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+The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Martins Of Cro' Martin, Vol. II (of II), by
+Charles James Lever
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: The Martins Of Cro' Martin, Vol. II (of II)
+
+Author: Charles James Lever
+
+Illustrator: Phiz.
+
+Release Date: February 2, 2011 [EBook #35144]
+Last Updated: February 28, 2018
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: UTF-8
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE MARTINS OF CRO' MARTIN ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by David Widger
+
+
+
+
+
+
+THE MARTINS OF CRO' MARTIN
+
+By Charles Lever
+
+With Illustrations By Phiz.
+
+In Two Volumes
+
+Vol. II.
+
+Boston: Little, Brown, And Company.
+
+1906
+
+
+
+
+THE MARTINS OF CRO' MARTIN.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER I. MR. HERMAN MERL
+
+This much-abused world of ours, railed at by divines, sneered down by
+cynics, slighted by philosophers, has still some marvellously pleasant
+things about it, amongst which, first and foremost, _facile princeps_,
+is Paris! In every other city of Europe there is a life to be learned
+and acquired just like a new language. You have to gain the acquaintance
+of certain people, obtain admission to certain houses, submit yourself
+to ways, habits, hours, all peculiar to the locality, and conform to
+usages in which--at first, at least--you rarely find anything beyond
+penalties on your time and your patience. But Paris demands no such
+sacrifices. To enjoy it, no apprenticeship is required. You become
+free of the guild at the Porte St. Denis. By the time you reach the
+Boulevards you have ceased to be a stranger. You enter the “Frères” at
+dinner hour like an old habitué. The atmosphere of light, elastic gayety
+around you, the tone of charming politeness that meets your commonest
+inquiry, the courtesy bestowed upon your character as a foreigner, are
+all as exhilarating in their own way as your sparkling glass of Moët,
+sipped in the window, from which you look down on plashing fountains,
+laughing children, and dark-eyed grisettes! The whole thing, in its
+bustle and movement, its splendor, sunlight, gilded furniture,
+mirrors, and smart toilettes, is a piece of natural magic, with this
+difference,--that its effect is ever new, ever surprising!
+
+Sad and sorrowful faces are, of course, to be met with, since grief has
+its portion everywhere; but that air of languid indifference, that
+look of wearied endurance, which we characterize by the classic term of
+“boredom,” is, indeed, a rare spectacle in this capital; and yet now
+at the window of a splendid apartment in the Place Vendôme, listlessly
+looking down into the square beneath, stood a young man, every line
+of whose features conveyed this same expression. He had, although not
+really above twenty-four or twenty-five, the appearance of one ten
+years older. On a face of singular regularity, and decidedly handsome,
+dissipation had left its indelible traces. The eyes were deep sunk,
+the cheeks colorless, and around the angles of the mouth were those
+tell-tale circles which betray the action of an oft-tried temper, and
+the spirit that has gone through many a hard conflict. In figure he was
+very tall, and seemed more so in the folds of a long dressing-gown
+of antique brocade, which reached to his feet; a small, dark green
+skull-cap, with a heavy silver tassel, covered one side of his head, and
+in his hand he held a handsome meerschaum, which, half mechanically, he
+placed from time to time to his lips, although its bowl was empty.
+
+At a breakfast-table covered with all that could provoke appetite, sat a
+figure as much unlike him as could be. He was under the middle size,
+and slightly inclined to flesh, with a face which, but for some strange
+resemblance to what one has seen in pictures by the older artists, would
+have been unequivocally vulgar. The eyes were small, keen, and furtive;
+the nose, slightly concave in its outline, expanded beneath into
+nostrils wide and full; but the mouth, thick-lipped, sensual, and
+coarse, was more distinctive than all, and showed that Mr. Herman Merl
+was a gentleman of the Jewish persuasion,--a fact well corroborated by
+the splendor of a very flashy silk waistcoat, and various studs, gold
+chain, rings, and trinkets profusely scattered over his costume. And
+yet there was little of what we commonly recognize as the Jew in the
+character of his face. The eyes were not dark, the nose not aquiline;
+the hair, indeed, had the wavy massiveness of the Hebrew race; but Mr.
+Merl was a “Red Jew,” and the Red Jew, like the red partridge, is a
+species _per se_.
+
+[Illustration: 018]
+
+There was an ostentatious pretension in the “get up” of this gentleman.
+His moustache, his beard, his wrist-buttons, his shirt-studs, the
+camellia in his coat,--all, even to the heels of his boots, had been
+made studies, either to correct a natural defect, or show off what he
+fancied a natural advantage. He seemed to have studied color like a
+painter, for his dark brown frock was in true keeping with the tint
+of his skin; and yet, despite these painstaking efforts, the man was
+indelibly, hopelessly vulgar. Everything about him was imitation, but it
+was imitation that only displayed its own shortcomings.
+
+“I wonder how you can resist these oysters, Captain,” said he, as he
+daintily adjusted one of these delicacies on his fork; “and the Chablis,
+I assure you, is excellent.”
+
+“I never eat breakfast,” said the other, turning away from the window,
+and pacing the room with slow and measured tread.
+
+“Why, you are forgetting all the speculations that used to amuse us
+on the voyage,--the delicious little dinners we were to enjoy at the
+'Rocher,' the tempting dejeuners at 'Véfour's.' By Jove! how hungry you
+used to make me, with your descriptions of the appetizing fare before
+us; and here we have it now: Ardennes ham, fried in champagne; Ostend
+oysters, salmi of quails with truffles--and such truffles! Won't that
+tempt you?”
+
+But his friend paid no attention to the appeal, and walking again to the
+window, looked out.
+
+“Those little drummers yonder have a busy day of it,” said he, lazily;
+“that's the fourth time they have had to beat the salute to Generals
+this morning.”
+
+“Is there anything going on, then?”
+
+But he never deigned an answer, and resumed his walk.
+
+“I wish you'd send away that hissing teakettle, it reminds me of a
+steamboat,” said the Captain, peevishly; “that is, if you have done with
+it.”
+
+“So it does,” said the other, rising to ring the bell; “there's the same
+discordant noise, and the--the--the--” But the rest of the similitude
+would n't come, and Mr. Merl covered his retreat with the process of
+lighting a cigar,--an invaluable expedient that had served to aid many a
+more ready debater in like difficulty.
+
+It would be a somewhat tedious, perhaps not a very profitable task, to
+inquire how two men, so palpably dissimilar, had thus become what the
+world calls friends. Enough if we say that Captain Martin,--the heir of
+Cro' Martin,--when returning from India on leave, passed some time at
+the Cape, where, in the not very select society of the place, he met Mr.
+Merl. Now Mr. Merl had been at Ceylon, where he had something to do with
+a coffee plantation; and he had been at Benares, where opium interested
+him; and now again, at the Cape, a question of wine had probably some
+relation to his sojourn. In fact, he was a man travelling about the
+world with abundance of leisure, a well-stocked purse, and what our
+friends over the Strait would term an “industrial spirit.” Messes had
+occasionally invited him to their tables. Men in society got the habit
+of seeing him “about,” and he was in the enjoyment of that kind of
+tolerance which made every man feel, “He's not _my_ friend,--_I_ didn't
+introduce him; but he seems a good sort of fellow enough!” And so he
+was,--very good-tempered, very obliging, most liberal of his cigars,
+his lodgings always open to loungers, with pale ale, and even iced
+champagne, to be had |for asking. There was play, too; and although Merl
+was a considerable winner, he managed never to incur the jealous enmity
+that winning so often imposes. He was the most courteous of gamblers; he
+never did a sharp thing; never enforced a strict rule upon a novice of
+the game; tolerated every imaginable blunder of his partner with bland
+equanimity; and, in a word, if this great globe of ours had been a
+green-baize cloth, and all the men and women whist-players, Mr. Herman
+Merl had been the first gentleman in it, and carried off “all the
+honors” in his own hand.
+
+If he was highly skilled in every game, it was remarked of him that he
+never proposed play himself, nor was he ever known to make a wager: he
+always waited to be asked to make up a party, or to take or give the
+odds, as the case might be. To a very shrewd observer, this might have
+savored a little too much of a system; but shrewd observers are, after
+all, not the current coin in the society of young men, and Merl's
+conduct was eminently successful.
+
+Merl suited Martin admirably. Martin was that species of man which,
+of all others, is most assailable by flattery. A man of small
+accomplishments, he sang a little, rode a little, played, drew, fenced,
+fished, shot--all, a little--that is, somewhat better than others in
+general, and giving him that dangerous kind of pre-eminence from which,
+though the tumble never kills, it occurs often enough to bruise and
+humiliate. But, worse than this, it shrouds its possessor in a triple
+mail of vanity, that makes him the easy prey of all who minister to it.
+
+We seldom consider how much locality influences our intimacies, and how
+impossible it had been for us even to know in some places the people we
+have made friends of in another. Harry Martin would as soon have thought
+of proposing his valet at “Brookes's,” as walk down Bond Street with Mr.
+Merl. Had he met him in London, every characteristic of the man would
+there have stood out in all the strong glare of contrast, but at the
+Cape it was different. Criticism would have been misplaced where all was
+irregular, and the hundred little traits--any one of which would have
+shocked him in England--were only smiled at as the eccentricities of a
+“good-natured poor fellow, who had no harm in him.”
+
+Martin and Merl came to England in the same ship. It was a sudden
+thought of Merl's, only conceived the evening before she sailed; but
+Martin had lost a considerable sum at piquet to him on that night, and
+when signing the acceptances for payment, since he had not the ready
+money, somewhat peevishly remarked that it was hard he should not have
+his revenge. Whereupon Merl, tossing off a bumper of champagne, and
+appearing to speak under the influence of its stimulation, cried out,
+“Hang me, Captain, if you shall say that! I 'll go and take my passage
+in the 'Elphinstone.'” And he did so, and he gave the Captain his
+revenge! But of all the passions, there is not one less profitable to
+indulge in. They played morning, noon, and night, through long days of
+sickening calm, through dreary nights of storm and hurricane, and they
+scarcely lifted their heads at the tidings that the Needles were in
+sight, nor even questioned the pilot for news of England, when he
+boarded them in the Downs. Martin had grown much older during that same
+voyage; his temper, too, usually imbued with the easy indolence of his
+father's nature, had grown impatient and fretful. A galling sense of
+inferiority to Merl poisoned every minute of his life. He would not
+admit it; he rejected it, but back it came; and if it did not enter into
+his heart, it stood there knocking,--knocking for admission. Each time
+they sat down to play was a perfect duel to Martin.
+
+As for Merl, his well-schooled faculties never were ruffled nor excited.
+The game had no power to fascinate _him_, its vicissitudes had nothing
+new or surprising to him; intervals of ill-luck, days even of dubious
+fortune might occur, but he knew he would win in the end, just as
+he knew that though there might intervene periods of bad weather and
+adverse winds, the good ship “Elphinstone” would arrive at last, and, a
+day sooner or a day later, discharge passengers and freight on the banks
+of the Thames.
+
+You may forgive the man who has rivalled you in love, the banker whose
+“smash” has engulfed all your fortune, the violent political antagonist
+who has assailed you personally, and in the House, perhaps, answered the
+best speech you ever made by a withering reply. You may extend feelings
+of Christian charity to the reviewer who has “slashed” your new novel,
+the lawyer whose vindictive eloquence has exposed, the artist in “Punch”
+ who has immortalized, you; but there is one man you never forgive, of
+whom you will never believe one good thing, and to whom you would wish a
+thousand evil ones,--he is your natural enemy, brought into the world
+to be your bane, born that he may be your tormentor; and this is the man
+who _always_ beats you at play! Happily, good reader, you may have no
+feelings of the gambler,--you may be of those to whom this fatal vice
+has never appealed, or appealed in vain; but if you _have_ “played,” or
+even mixed with those who have, you could n't have failed to be struck
+with the fact that there is that one certain man from whom you never
+win! Wherever he is, there, too, is present your evil destiny! Now,
+there is no pardoning this,--the double injury of insult to your skill
+and damage to your pocket. Such a man as this becomes at last your
+master. You may sneer at his manners, scoff at his abilities, ridicule
+his dress, laugh at his vulgarity,--poor reprisals these! In his
+presence, the sense of that one superiority he possesses over you makes
+you quail! In the stern conflict, where your destiny and your capacity
+seem alike at issue, he conquers you,--not to-day or to-morrow, but ever
+and always! There he sits, arbiter of your fate,--only doubtful how long
+he may defer the day of your sentence!
+
+It is something in the vague indistinctness of this power--something
+that seems to typify the agency of the Evil One himself--that at once
+tortures and subdues you; and you ever hurry into fresh conflict with
+the ever-present consciousness of fresh defeat! We might have spared our
+reader this discursive essay, but that it pertains to our story. Such
+was the precise feeling entertained by Martin towards Merl. He hated
+him with all the concentration of his great hatred, and yet he could not
+disembarrass himself of his presence. He was ashamed of the man amongst
+his friends; he avoided him in all public places; he shrunk from
+his very contact as though infected; but he could not throw off his
+acquaintance, and he nourished in his heart a small ember of hope that
+one day or other the scale of fortune would turn, and he might win back
+again all he had ever lost, and stand free and unembarrassed as in the
+first hour he had met him! Fifty times had he consulted Fortune, as
+it were, to ask if this moment had yet arrived; but hitherto ever
+unsuccessfully,--Merl won on as before. Martin, however, invariably
+ceased playing when he discovered that his ill-luck continued. It was
+an experiment,--a mere pilot balloon to Destiny; and when he saw the
+direction adverse, he did not adventure on the grand ascent. It was
+impossible that a man of Merl's temperament and training should not have
+detected this game. There was not a phase of the gambler's mind with
+which he was not thoroughly familiar.
+
+Close intimacies, popularly called friendships, have always their
+secret motive, if we be but skilful enough to detect it. We see people
+associate together of widely different habits, and dispositions the most
+opposite, with nothing in common of station, rank, object, or pursuit.
+In such cases the riddle has always its key, could we only find it.
+
+Mr. Martin had been some weeks in Paris with his family, when a brief
+note informed him that Merl had arrived there. He despatched an answer
+still briefer, asking him to breakfast on the following morning; and it
+was in the acceptance of this same invitation we have now seen him.
+
+“Who's here just now?” said Merl, throwing down his napkin, and pushing
+his chair a little back from the table, while he disposed his short, fat
+legs into what he fancied was a most graceful attitude.
+
+“Here? Do you mean in Paris?” rejoined Martin, pettishly,--for he never
+suffered so painfully under this man's intimacy as when his manners
+assumed the pretension of fashion.
+
+“Yes,--of course,--I mean, who's in Paris?”
+
+“There are, I believe, about forty-odd thousand of our countrymen and
+countrywomen,” said the other, half contemptuously.
+
+“Oh, I've no doubt; but my question took narrower bounds. I meant, who
+of _our_ set,--who of us?”
+
+Martin turned round, and fixing his eyes on him, scanned him from head
+to foot with a gaze of such intense insolence as no words could have
+equalled. For a while the Jew bore it admirably; but these efforts,
+after all, are only like the brief intervals a man can live under water,
+and where the initiated beats the inexperienced only by a matter of
+seconds. As Martin continued his stare, Merl's cheek tingled, grew red,
+and finally his whole face and forehead became scarlet.
+
+With an instinct like that of a surgeon who feels he has gone deep
+enough with his knife, Martin resumed his walk along the room without
+uttering a word.
+
+Merl opened the newspaper, and affected to read; his hand, however,
+trembled, and his eyes wandered listlessly over the columns, and then
+furtively were turned towards Martin as he paced the chamber in silence.
+
+“Do you think you can manage that little matter for me, Captain?” said
+he at last, and in a voice attuned to its very humblest key.
+
+“What little matter? Those two bills do you mean?” said Martin,
+suddenly.
+
+“Not at all. I 'm not the least pressed for cash. I alluded to the Club;
+you promised you 'd put me up, and get one of your popular friends to
+second me.”
+
+“I remember,” said Martin, evidently relieved from a momentary terror.
+“Lord Claude Willoughby or Sir Spencer Cavendish would be the men if we
+could find them.”
+
+“Lord Claude, I perceive, is here; the paper mentions his name in the
+dinner company at the Embassy yesterday.”
+
+“Do you know him?” asked Martin, with an air of innocence that Merl well
+comprehended as insult.
+
+“No. We 've met,--I think we 've played together; I remember once at
+Baden--”
+
+“Lord Claude Willoughby, sir,” said a servant, entering with a card,
+“desires to know if you 're at home?”
+
+“And won't be denied if you are not,” said his Lordship, entering at the
+same instant, and saluting Martin with great cordiality.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER II. MR. MERL
+
+The French have invented a slang word for a quality that deserves a
+more recognized epithet, and by the expression _chic_ have designated
+a certain property by which objects assert their undoubted superiority
+over all their counterfeits. Thus, your coat from Nugee's, your carriage
+from Leader's, your bracelet from Storr's, and your bonnet from Madame
+Palmyre, have all their own peculiar _chic_, or, in other words, possess
+a certain invisible, indescribable essence that stamps them as the best
+of their kind, with an excellence unattainable by imitation, and a charm
+all their own!
+
+Of all the products in which this magical property insinuates itself,
+there is not one to which it contributes so much as the man of fashion.
+He is the very type of _chic_. To describe him you are driven to
+a catalogue of negatives, and you only arrive at anything like a
+resemblance by an enumeration of the different things he is not.
+
+The gentleman who presented himself to Martin at the close of our
+last chapter was in many respects a good specimen of his order. He had
+entered the room, believing Martin to be there alone; but no sooner had
+he perceived another, and that other one not known to him, than all
+the buoyant gayety of his manner was suddenly toned down into a
+quiet seriousness; while, taking his friend's arm, he said in a low
+voice,--“If you 're busy, my dear Martin, don't hesitate for a moment
+about sending me off; I had not the slightest suspicion there was any
+one with you.”
+
+“Nor is there,” said Martin, with a supercilious glance at Merl, who
+was endeavoring in a dozen unsuccessful ways to seem unaware of the new
+arrival's presence.
+
+“I want to introduce him to you,” said Martin.
+
+“No, no, my dear friend, on no account.”
+
+“I must; there's no help for it,” said Martin, impatiently, while he
+whispered something eagerly in the other's ear.
+
+“Well, then, some other day; another time--”
+
+“Here and now, Claude,” said Martin, peremptorily; while, without
+waiting for reply, he said aloud, “Merl, I wish to present you to Lord
+Claude Willoughby,--Lord Claude, Mr. Herman Merl.”
+
+Merl bowed and smirked and writhed as his Lordship, with a bland smile
+and a very slight bow, acknowledged the presentation.
+
+“Had the pleasure of meeting your Lordship at Baden two summers ago,”
+ said the Jew, with an air meant to be the ideal of fashionable ease.
+
+“I was at Baden at the time you mention,” said he, coldly.
+
+“I used to watch your Lordship's game with great attention; you won
+heavily, I think?”
+
+“I don't remember, just now,” said he, carelessly; not, indeed, that
+such was the fact, or that he desired it should be thought so; he only
+wished to mark his sense of what he deemed an impertinence.
+
+“The man who can win at rouge-et-noir can do anything, in my opinion,”
+ said Merl.
+
+“What odds are you taking on Rufus?” said Martin to Willoughby, and
+without paying the slightest attention to Merl's remark.
+
+“Eleven to one; but I'll not take it again. Hecuba is rising hourly, and
+some say she 'll be the favorite yet.”
+
+“Is Rufus your Lordship's horse?” said the Jew, insinuatingly.
+
+Willoughby bowed, and continued to write in his note-book.
+
+“And you said the betting was eleven to one on the field, my Lord?”
+
+“It ought to be fourteen to one, at least.”
+
+“I 'll give you fourteen to one, my Lord, just for the sake of a little
+interest in the race.”
+
+Willoughby ceased writing, and looked at him steadfastly for a second or
+two. “I have not said that the odds were fourteen to one.”
+
+“I understand you perfectly, my Lord; you merely thought that they would
+be, or, at least, ought to be.”
+
+“Merl wants a bet with you, in fact,” said Martin, as he applied alight
+to his meerschaum; “and if you won't have him, I will.”
+
+“What shall it be, sir,” said Lord Claude, pencil in hand; “in
+ponies--fifties?”
+
+“Oh, ponies, my Lord. I only meant it, just as I said, to give me
+something to care for in the race.”
+
+“Will you put him up at the 'Cercle' after that?” whispered Martin, with
+a look of sly malice.
+
+“I'll tell you when the match is over,” said Willoughby, laughing;
+“but if I won't, here 's one that will. That's a neat phaeton of
+Cavendish's.” And at the same instant Martin opened the window, and made
+a signal with his handkerchief.
+
+“That's the thing for _you_, Merl,” said Martin, pointing down to a
+splendid pair of dark chestnuts harnessed to a handsome phaeton. “It's
+worth five hundred pounds to any fellow starting an equipage to chance
+upon one of Cavendish's. He has not only such consummate taste in
+carriage and harness, but he makes his nags perfection.”
+
+“He drives very neatly,” said Willoughby.
+
+“What was it he gave for that near-side horse?--a thousand pounds, I
+think.”
+
+“Twelve hundred and fifty, and refused a hundred for my bargain,” said
+a very diminutive, shrewd-looking man of about five-and-thirty, who
+entered the room with great affectation of juvenility. “I bought him for
+a cab, never expecting to 'see his like again,' as Shakspeare says.”
+
+“And you offered the whole concern yesterday to Damre-mont for fifty
+thousand francs?”
+
+“No, Harry, that's a mistake. I said I 'd play him a match at piquet,
+whether he gave seventy thousand for the equipage or nothing. It was he
+that proposed fifty thousand. Mine was a handsome offer, I think.”
+
+“I call it a most munificent one,” said Martin. “By the way, you don't
+know my friend here, Mr. Merl, Sir Spencer Cavendish.” And the baronet
+stuck his glass in his eye, and scanned the stranger as unscrupulously
+as though he were a hack at Tattersairs.
+
+“Where did he dig him up, Claude?” whispered he, after a second.
+
+“In India, I fancy; or at the Cape.”
+
+“That fellow has something to do with the hell in St. James's Street; I
+'ll swear I know his face.”
+
+[Illustration: 029]
+
+“I 've been telling Merl that he 's in rare luck to find such a turn-out
+as that in the market; that is, if you still are disposed to sell.”
+
+“Oh, yes, I'll sell it; give him the tiger, boots, cockade, and
+all,--everything except that Skye terrier. You shall have the whole,
+sir, for two thousand pounds; or, if you prefer it--”
+
+A certain warning look from Lord Claude suddenly arrested his words, and
+he added, after a moment,--“But I 'd rather sell it off, and think no
+more of it.”
+
+“Try the nags; Sir Spencer, I'm sure, will have no objection,” said
+Martin. But the baronet's face looked anything but concurrence with the
+proposal.
+
+“Take them a turn round the Bois de Boulogne, Merl,” said Martin,
+laughing at his friend's distress.
+
+“And he may have the turn-out at his own price after the trial,”
+ muttered Lord Claude, with a quiet smile.
+
+“Egad! I should think so,” whispered Cavendish; “for, assuredly, I
+should never think of being seen in it again.”
+
+“If Sir Spencer Cavendish has no objection,--if he would permit his
+groom to drive me just down the Boulevards and the Rue Rivoli--”
+
+The cool stare of the baronet did not permit him to finish. It was
+really a look far more intelligible than common observers might have
+imagined, for it conveyed something like recognition,--a faint approach
+to an intimation that said, “I 'm persuaded that we have met before.”
+
+“Yes, that is the best plan. Let the groom have the ribbons,” said
+Martin, laughing with an almost schoolboy enjoyment of a trick. “And
+don't lose time, Merl, for Sir Spencer would n't miss his drive in the
+Champs Elysees for any consideration.”
+
+“Gentlemen, I am your very humble and much obliged servant!” said
+Cavendish, as soon as Merl had quitted the room. “If that distinguished
+friend of yours should not buy my carriage--”
+
+“But he will,” broke in Martin; “he must buy it.”
+
+“He ought, I think,” said Lord Claude. “If I were in his place, there's
+only one condition I 'd stipulate for.”
+
+“And that is--”
+
+“That you should drive with him one day--one would be enough--from the
+Barrière de l'Étoile to the Louvre.”
+
+“This is all very amusing, gentlemen, most entertaining,” said
+Cavendish, tartly; “but who is he?--I don't mean that,--but what is he?”
+
+“Martin's banker, I fancy,” said Lord Claude.
+
+“Does he lend any sum from five hundred to twenty thousand on equitable
+terms on approved personal security?” said Cavendish, imitating the
+terms of the advertisements.
+
+“He 'll allow all he wins from you to remain in your hands at sixty per
+cent interest, if he doesn't want cash!” said Martin, angrily.
+
+“Oh, then, I 'm right. It is my little Moses of St. James's Street. He
+was n't always as flourishing as we see him now. Oh dear, if any man,
+three years back, had told me that this fellow would have proposed
+seating himself in my phaeton for a drive round Paris, I don't
+believe--nay, I 'm sure--my head couldn't have stood it.”
+
+“You know him, then?” said Willoughby.
+
+“I should think every man about town a dozen years ago must know him.
+There was a kind of brood of these fellows; we used to call them Joseph
+and his brethren. One sold cigars, another vended maraschino; this
+discounted your bills, that took your plate or your horses--ay, or your
+wardrobe--on a bill of sale, and handed you over two hundred pounds to
+lose at his brother's hell in the evening. Most useful scoundrels they
+were,--equally expert on 'Change and in the Coulisses of the Opera!”
+
+“I will say this for him,” said Martin, “he 's not a hard fellow to deal
+with; he does not drive a bargain ungenerously.”
+
+“Your hangman is the tenderest fellow in the world,” said Cavendish,
+“till the final moment. It's only in adjusting the last turn under the
+ear that he shows himself 'ungenerous.'”
+
+“Are you deep with him, Harry?” said Willoughby, who saw a sudden
+paleness come over Martin's face.
+
+“Too deep!” said he, with a bitter effort at a laugh,--“a great deal too
+deep.”
+
+“We 're all too deep with those fellows,” said Cavendish, as, stretching
+out his legs, he contemplated the shape and lustre of his admirably
+fitting boots. “One begins by some trumpery loan or so; thence you go
+on to a play transaction or a betting-book with them, and you end--egad,
+you end by having the fellow at dinner!”
+
+“Martin wants his friend to be put up for the Club,” said Willoughby.
+
+“Eh, what? At the 'Cercle,' do you mean?”
+
+“Why not? Is it so very select?”
+
+“No, not exactly that; there are the due proportions of odd reputations,
+half reputations, and no reputations; but remember, Martin, that however
+black they be now, they all began white. When they started, at least,
+they were gentlemen.”
+
+“I suspect that does not make the case much better.”
+
+“No; but it makes _ours_ better, in associating with them. Come, come,
+you know as well as any one that this is impossible, and that if you
+should do it to-day, I should follow the lead to-morrow, and our
+Club become only an asylum for unpayable tailors and unappeasable
+bootmakers!”
+
+“You go too fast, sir,” exclaimed Martin, in a tone of anger. “I never
+intended to pay my debts by a white ball in the ballot-box, nor do I
+think that Mr. Merl would relinquish his claim on some thousand
+pounds, even for the honor of being the club colleague of Sir Spencer
+Cavendish.”
+
+“Then I know him better,” said the other, tapping his-boot with his
+cane; “he would, and he 'd think it a right good bargain besides. From
+seeing these fellows at racecourses and betting-rooms, always cold,
+calm, and impassive, never depressed by ill-luck, as little elated
+by good, we fall into the mistake of esteeming them as a kind of
+philosophers in life, without any of those detracting influences that
+make you and Willoughby, and even myself, sometimes rash and headstrong.
+It is a mistake, though; they have a weakness,--and a terrible
+weakness,--which is, their passion to be thought in fashionable society.
+Yes, they can't resist that! All their shrewd calculations, all their
+artful schemes, dissolve into thin air, at the bare prospect of being
+recognized 'in society.' I have studied this flaw in them for many a
+year back. I 'll not say I haven't derived advantage from it.”
+
+“And yet you 'd refuse him admission into a club,” cried Martin.
+
+“Certainly. A club is a Democracy, where each man, once elected, is
+the equal of his neighbor. Society is, on the other hand, an absolute
+monarchy, where your rank flows from the fountain of honor,--the host.
+Take him along with you to her Grace's 'tea,' or my Lady's reception
+this evening, and see if the manner of the mistress of the house does
+not assign him his place, as certainly as if he were marshalled to it by
+a lackey. All his mock tranquillity and assumed ease of manner will not
+be proof against the icy dignity of a grande dame; but in the Club he's
+as good as the best, or he'll think so, which comes to the same thing.”
+
+“Cavendish is right,--that is, as much so as he can be in anything,”
+ said Willoughby, laughing. “Don't put him up, Martin.”
+
+“Then what am I to do? I have given a sort of a pledge. He is not easily
+put off; he does not lightly relinquish an object.”
+
+“Take him off the scent. Introduce him at the Embassy. Take him to the
+Courcelles.”
+
+“This is intolerable,” broke in Martin, angrily. “I ask for advice, and
+you reply by a sneer and a mockery.”
+
+“Not at all. I never was more serious. But here he comes! Look only how
+the fellow lolls back in the phaeton. Just see how contemptuously he
+looks down on the foot-travellers. I'd lay on another hundred for that
+stare; for, assuredly, he has already made the purchase in his own
+mind.”
+
+“Well, Merl, what do you say to Sir Spencer's taste in horseflesh?” said
+Martin, as he entered.
+
+“They 're nice hacks; very smart.”
+
+“Nice hacks!” broke in Cavendish, “why, sir, they're both thoroughbred;
+the near horse is by Tiger out of a Crescent mare, and the off one won
+the Acton steeple-chase. When you said hacks, therefore, you made a
+cruel blunder.”
+
+“Well, it's what a friend of mine called them just now,” said Merl;
+“and remarked, moreover, that the large horse had been slightly fired on
+the--the--I forget the name he gave it.”
+
+“You probably remember your friend's name better,” said Cavendish,
+sneeringly. “Who was he, pray?”
+
+“Massingbred,--we call him Jack Massingbred; he's the Member for
+somewhere in Ireland.”
+
+“Poor Jack!” muttered Cavendish, “how hard up he must be!”
+
+“But you like the equipage, Merl?” said Martin, who had a secret
+suspicion that it was now Cavendish's turn for a little humiliation.
+
+“Well, it's neat. The buggy--”
+
+“The buggy! By Jove, sir, you have a precious choice of epithets! Please
+to let me inform you that full-blooded horses are not called hacks, nor
+one of Leader's park-phaetons is not styled a buggy.”
+
+Martin threw himself into a chair, and after a moment's struggle, burst
+out into a fit of laughter.
+
+“I think we may make a deal after all, Sir Spencer,” said Merl, who
+accepted the baronet's correction with admirable self-control.
+
+“No, sir; perfectly impossible; take my word for it, any transaction
+would be difficult between us. Good-bye, Martin; adieu, Claude.” And
+with this brief leave-taking the peppery Sir Spencer left the room, more
+flushed and fussy than he had entered it.
+
+“If you knew Sir Spencer Cavendish as long as we have known him, Mr.
+Merl,” said Lord Claude, in his blandest of voices, “you'd not be
+surprised at this little display of warmth. It is the only weakness in a
+very excellent fellow.”
+
+“I 'm hot, too, my Lord,” said Merl, with the very slightest
+accentuation of the “initial H,” “and he was right in saying that
+dealings would be difficult between us.”
+
+“You mentioned Massingbred awhile ago, Merl. Why not ask him to second
+you at the Club?” said Martin, rousing himself suddenly from a train of
+thought.
+
+“Well, somehow, I thought that he and you did n't exactly pull together;
+that there was an election contest,--a kind of a squabble.”
+
+“I 'm sure that _he_ never gave you any reason to suspect a coldness
+between us; I know that _I_ never did,” said Martin, calmly. “We are but
+slightly acquainted, it is true, but I should be surprised to learn that
+there was any ill-feeling between us.”
+
+“One's opponent at the hustings is pretty much the same thing as one's
+adversary at a game,--he is against you to-day, and may be your partner
+to-morrow; so that, putting even better motives aside, it were bad
+policy to treat him as an implacable enemy,” said Lord Claude, with his
+accustomed suavity. “Besides, Mr. Merl, you know the crafty maxim of the
+French moralist, 'Always treat your enemies as though one day they were
+to become your friends.'” And with this commonplace, uttered in a tone
+and with a manner that gave it all the semblance of a piece of special
+advice, his Lordship took his hat, and, squeezing Martin's hand, moved
+towards the door.
+
+“Come in here for a moment,” said Martin, pushing open the door into an
+adjoining dressing-room, and closing it carefully after them. “So much
+for wanting to do a good-natured thing,” cried he, peevishly. “I thought
+to help Cavendish to get rid of those 'screws,' and the return he makes
+me is to outrage this man.”
+
+“What are your dealings with him?” asked Willoughby» anxiously.
+
+“Play matters, play debts, loans, securities, post-obits, and every
+other blessed contrivance you can think of to swamp a man's present
+fortune and future prospects. I don't think he is a bad fellow; I mean,
+I don't suspect he 'd press heavily upon me, with any fair treatment on
+my part. My impression, in short, is that he'd forgive my not meeting
+his bill, but he 'd never get over my not inviting him to a dinner!”
+
+“Well,” said Willoughby, encouragingly, “we live in admirable times for
+such practices. There used to be a vulgar prejudice in favor of men
+that one knew, and names that the world was familiar with. It is gone
+by entirely; and if you only present your friend--don't wince at the
+title--your friend, I say--as the rich Mr. Merl, the man who owns shares
+in mines, canals, and collieries, whose speculations count by tens of
+thousands, and whose credit rises to millions, you'll never be called on
+to apologize for his parts of speech, or make excuse for his solecisms
+in good breeding.”
+
+“Will you put up his name, then, at the Club?” asked Martin, eagerly.
+“It would not do for _me_ to do so.”
+
+“To be sure I will, and Massingbred shall be his seconder.” And with
+this cheering pledge Lord Claude bade him good-bye, and left him free
+to return to Mr. Merl in the drawing-room. That gentleman had, however,
+already departed, to the no small astonishment of Martin, who now threw
+himself lazily down on a sofa, to ponder over his difficulties and weave
+all manner of impracticable schemes to meet them.
+
+They were, indeed, very considerable embarrassments. He had raised
+heavy sums at most exorbitant rates, and obtained money--for the
+play-table--by pledging valuable reversions of various kinds, for Merl
+somehow was the easiest of all people to deal with; one might have
+fancied that he lent his money only to afford himself an occasion of
+sympathy with the borrower, just as he professed that he merely
+betted “to have a little interest in the race.” Whatever Martin, then,
+suggested in the way of security never came amiss; whether it were a
+farm, a mill, a quarry, or a lead mine, he accepted it at once, and, as
+Martin deemed, without the slightest knowledge or investigation, little
+suspecting that there was not a detail of his estate, nor a resource
+of his property, with which the wily Jew was not more familiar than
+himself. In fact, Mr. Merl was an astonishing instance of knowledge on
+every subject by which money was to be made, and he no more advanced
+loans upon an encumbered estate than he backed the wrong horse or
+bid for a copied picture. There is a species of practical information
+excessively difficult to describe, which is not connoisseurship, but
+which supplies the place of that quality, enabling him who possesses
+it to estimate the value of an object, without any admixture of those
+weakening prejudices which beset your mere man of taste. Now, Mr. Merl
+had no caprices about the color of the horse he backed, no more than
+for the winning seat at cards; he could not be warped from his true
+interests by any passing whim, and whether he cheapened a Correggio or
+discounted a bill, he was the same calm, dispassionate calculator of the
+profit to come of the transaction.
+
+Latterly, however, he had thrown out a hint to Martin that he was
+curious to see some of that property on which he had made such large
+advances; and this wish--which, according to the frame of mind he
+happened to be in at the moment, struck Martin as a mere caprice or a
+direct menace--was now the object of his gloomy reveries. We have
+not tracked his steps through the tortuous windings of his moneyed
+difficulties; it is a chapter in life wherein there is wonderfully
+little new to record; the Jew-lender and his associates, the renewed
+bill and the sixty per cent, the non-restored acceptances flitting about
+the world, sold and resold as damaged articles, but always in the end
+falling into the hands of a “most respectable party,” and proceeded
+on as a true debt; then, the compromises for time, for silence, for
+secrecy,--since these transactions are rarely, if ever, devoid of some
+unhappy incident that would not bear publicity; and there are invariably
+little notes beginning “Dear Moses,” which would argue most ill-chosen
+intimacies. These are all old stories, and the “Times” and the
+“Chronicle” are full of them. There is a terrible sameness about them,
+too. The dupe and the villain are stock characters that never change,
+and the incidents are precisely alike in every case. Humble folk, who
+are too low for fashionable follies, wonder how the self-same artifices
+have always the same success, and cannot conceal their astonishment at
+the innocence of our young men about town; and yet the mystery is
+easily solved. The dupe is, in these cases, just as unprincipled as
+his betrayer, and their negotiation is simply a game of skill, in which
+Israel is not always the winner.
+
+If we have not followed Martin's steps through these dreary labyrinths,
+it is because the path is a worn one; for the same reason, too, we
+decline to keep him company in his ponderings over them. All that his
+troubles had taught him was an humble imitation of the tricky natures of
+those he dealt with; so that he plotted and schemed and contrived, till
+his very head grew weary with the labor. And so we leave him.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER III. A YOUNG DUCHESS AND AN OLD FRIEND
+
+Like a vast number of people who have passed years in retirement, Lady
+Dorothea was marvellously disappointed with “the world” when she went
+back to it. It was not at all the kind of thing she remembered, or
+at least fancied it to be. There were not the old gradations of class
+strictly defined; there was not the old veneration for rank and station;
+“society” was invaded by hosts of unknown people, “names one had never
+heard of.” The great stars of fashion of her own day had long since set,
+and the new celebrities had never as much as heard of her. The great
+houses of the Faubourg were there, it is true; but with reduced
+households and dimly lighted salons, they were but sorry representatives
+of the splendor her memory had invested them with.
+
+Now the Martins were installed in one of the finest apartments of the
+finest quarter in Paris. They were people of unquestionable station,
+they had ample means, lacked for none of the advantages which the world
+demands from those who seek its favors; and yet there they were, just as
+unknown, unvisited, and unsought after, as if they were the Joneses or
+the Smiths, “out” for a month's pleasuring on the Continent.
+
+A solitary invitation to the Embassy to dinner was not followed by any
+other attention; and so they drove along the Boulevards and through the
+Bois de Boulogne, and saw some thousands of gay, bright-costumed people,
+all eager for pleasure, all hurrying on to some scheme of amusement or
+enjoyment, while they returned moodily to their handsome quarter, as
+much excluded from all participation in what went on around them as
+though they were natives of Hayti.
+
+Martin sauntered down to the reading-room, hoping vainly to fall in with
+some one he knew. He lounged listlessly along the bright streets, till
+their very glare addled him; he stared at the thousand new inventions of
+luxury and ease the world had discovered since he had last seen it, and
+then he plodded gloomily homeward, to dine and listen to her Ladyship's
+discontented criticism upon the tiresome place and the odious people who
+filled it. Paris was, indeed, a deception and a snare to them! So
+far from finding it cheap, the expense of living--as they lived--was
+considerably greater than at London. It was a city abounding in
+luxuries, but all costly. The details which are in England reserved for
+days of parade and display, were here daily habits, and these were now
+to be indulged in with all the gloom of solitude and isolation.
+
+What wonder, then, if her Ladyship's temper was ruffled, and her
+equanimity unbalanced by such disappointments? In vain she perused the
+list of arrivals to find out some distinguished acquaintance; in vain
+she interrogated her son as to what was going on, and who were there.
+The Captain only frequented the club, and could best chronicle the names
+that were great at whist or illustrious at billiards.
+
+“It surely cannot be the season here,” cried she, one morning,
+peevishly, “for really there isn't a single person one has ever heard of
+at Paris.”
+
+“And yet this is a strong catalogue,” cried the Captain, with a
+malicious twinkle in his eye. “Here are two columns of somebodies,
+who were present at Madame de Luygnes' last night.”
+
+“You can always fill salons, if that be all,” said she, angrily.
+
+“Yes, but not with Tour du Pins, Tavannes, Rochefoucaulds, Howards
+of Maiden, and Greys of Allington, besides such folk as Pahlen,
+Lichtenstein, Colonna, and so forth.”
+
+“How is it then, that one never sees them?” cried she, more eagerly.
+
+“Say, rather, how is it one doesn't know them,” cried Martin, “for here
+we are seven weeks, and, except to that gorgeous fellow in the cocked
+hat at the porter's lodge, I have never exchanged a salute with a human
+being.”
+
+“There are just three houses, they say, in all Paris, to one or other of
+which one must be presented,” said the Captain--“Madame de Luygnes, the
+Duchesse de Cour-celles, and Madame de Mirecourt.”
+
+“That Madame de Luygnes was your old mistress, was she not, Miss
+Henderson?” asked Lady Dorothea, haughtily.
+
+“Yes, my Lady,” was the calm reply.
+
+“And who are these other people?”
+
+“The Duc de Mirecourt was married to 'Mademoiselle,' the daughter of the
+Duchesse de Luygnes.”
+
+“Have you heard or seen anything of them since you came here?” asked her
+Ladyship.
+
+“No, my Lady, except a hurried salute yesterday from a carriage as we
+drove in. I just caught sight of the Duchesse as she waved her hand to
+me.”
+
+“Oh, I saw it. I returned the salutation, never suspecting it was meant
+for _you_. And she was your companion--your dear friend--long ago?”
+
+“Yes, my Lady,” said Kate, bending down over her work, but showing in
+the crimson flush that spread over her neck how the speech had touched
+her.
+
+“And you used to correspond, I think?” continued her Ladyship.
+
+“We did so, my Lady.”
+
+“And she dropped it, of course, when she married,--she had other things
+to think of?”
+
+“I 'm afraid, my Lady, the lapse was on _my_ side,” said Kate, scarcely
+repressing a smile at her own hardihood.
+
+“_Your_ side! Do you mean to say that you so far forgot what was due
+to the station of the Duchesse de Mirecourt, that you left her letter
+unreplied to?”
+
+“Not exactly, my Lady.”
+
+“Then, pray, what do you mean?”
+
+Kate paused for a second or two, and then, in a very calm and collected
+voice, replied,--“I told the Duchesse, in my last letter, that I should
+write no more,--that my life was thrown in a wild, unfrequented region,
+where no incident broke the monotony, and that were I to continue our
+correspondence, my letters must degenerate into a mere selfish record of
+my own sentiments, as unprofitable to read as ungraceful to write; and
+so I said good-bye--or _au revoir_, at least--till other scenes might
+suggest other thoughts.”
+
+“A most complimentary character of our Land of the West, certainly!
+I really was not aware before that Cro' Martin was regarded as an
+'oubliette.'”
+
+Kate made no answer,--a silence which seemed rather to irritate than
+appease her Ladyship.
+
+“I hope you included the family in your dreary picture. I trust it was
+not a mere piece of what artists call still life, Miss Henderson?”
+
+“No, my Lady,” said she, with a deep sigh; but the tone and manner of
+the rejoinder were anything but apologetic.
+
+“Now I call that as well done as anything one sees in Hyde Park,” cried
+the Captain, directing attention as he spoke to a very handsome chariot
+which had just driven up to the door. “They're inquiring for somebody
+here,” continued he, as he watched the Chasseur as he came and went from
+the carriage to the house.
+
+“There's a Grandee of Spain, or something of that kind, lives on the
+fourth floor, I think,” said Martin, dryly.
+
+“The Duchesse de Mirecourt, my Lady,” said a servant, entering, “begs to
+know if your Ladyship will receive her?”
+
+Kate started at the words, and her color rose till her cheeks were
+crimsoned.
+
+“A visit, I suspect, rather for you than me, Miss Henderson,” said Lady
+Dorothea, in a half-whisper; and then turning to her servant, nodded her
+acquiescence.
+
+“I 'm off,” said Martin, rising suddenly to make his escape.
+
+“And I too,” said the Captain, as he made his exit by an opposite door.
+
+The folding-doors of the apartment were at the same moment thrown wide,
+and the Duchess entered. Very young,--almost girlish, indeed,--she
+combined in her appearance the charming freshness of youth with that
+perfection of gracefulness which attaches to the higher classes
+of French society, and although handsome, more striking from the
+fascination of manner than for any traits of beauty. Courtesying
+slightly, but deferentially, to Lady Dorothea, she apologized for her
+intrusion by the circumstance of having, the day before, caught sight of
+her “dear governess and dear friend--” And as she reached thus far, the
+deep-drawn breathing of another attracted her. She turned and saw Kate,
+who, pale as a statue, stood leaning on a chair. In an instant she
+was in her arms, exclaiming, in a rapture of delight, “My dear, dear
+Kate,--my more than sister! You would forgive me, madam,” said she,
+addressing Lady Dorothea, “if you but knew what we were to each other.
+Is it not so, Kate?”
+
+A faint tremulous motion of the lips--all colorless as they were--was
+the only reply to the speech; but the young Frenchwoman needed none, but
+turning to her Ladyship, poured forth with native volubility a story of
+their friendship, the graceful language in which she uttered it lending
+those choice phrases which never seem exaggerations of sentiment till
+they be translated into other tongues. Mingling her praises with half
+reproaches, she drew a picture of Kate so flattering that Lady Dorothea
+could not help a sense of shrinking terror that one should speak in such
+terms of the governess.
+
+“And now, dearest,” added she, turning to Kate, “are we to see a great
+deal of each other? When can you come to me? Pardon me, madam, this
+question should be addressed to you.”
+
+“Miss Henderson is my secretary, Madame la Duchesse; she is also my
+companion,” said Lady Dorothea, haughtily; “but I can acknowledge claims
+which take date before my own. She shall be always at liberty when you
+wish for her.”
+
+“How kind, how good of you!” cried the Duchess. “I could have been
+certain of that. I knew that my dear Kate must be loved by all around
+her. We have a little _fête_ on Wednesday at St. Germain. May I bespeak
+her for that day?”
+
+“Her Ladyship suffers her generosity to trench upon her too far,” said
+Kate, in a low voice. “I am in a manner necessary to her,--that is, my
+absence would be inconvenient.”
+
+“But her Ladyship will doubtless be in the world herself that evening.
+There is a ball at the Duchesse de Sargance, and the Austrian Minister
+has something,” rattled on the lively Duchess. “Paris is so gay just
+now, so full of pleasant people, and all so eager for enjoyment. Don't
+you find it so, my Lady?”
+
+“I go but little into society!” said Lady Dorothea, stiffly.
+
+“How strange! and I--I cannot live without it. Even when we go to our
+Château at Roche-Mire I carry away with me all my friends who will
+consent to come. We try to imitate that delightful life of your country
+houses, and make up that great family party which is the _beau idéal_ of
+social enjoyment.”
+
+“And you like a country life, then?” asked her Ladyship.
+
+“To be sure. I love the excursions on horseback, the forest drives, the
+evening walks in the trellised vines, the parties one makes to see a
+thousand things one never looks at afterwards; the little dinners on the
+grass, with all their disasters, and the moonlight drive homewards, half
+joyous, half romantic,--not to speak of that charming frankness by which
+every one makes confession of his besetting weakness, and each has some
+little secret episode of his own life to tell the others. All but Kate
+here,” cried she, laughingly, “who never revealed anything.”
+
+“Madame la Duchesse will, I 'm sure, excuse my absence; she has
+doubtless many things she would like to say to her friend alone,” said
+Lady Dorothea, rising and courtesying formally; and the young Duchess
+returned the salutation with equal courtesy and respect.
+
+“My dear, dear Kate,” cried she, throwing her arms around her as the
+door closed after her Ladyship, “how I have longed for this moment,
+to tell you ten thousand things about myself and hear from you as many
+more! And first, dearest, are you happy? for you look more serious, more
+thoughtful than you used,--and paler, too.”
+
+“Am I so?” asked Kate, faintly.
+
+“Yes. When you're not speaking, your brows grow stern and your lips
+compressed. Your features have not that dear repose, as Giorgevo used to
+call it. Poor fellow! how much in love he was, and you 've never asked
+for him!”
+
+“I never thought of him!” said she, with a smile.
+
+“Nor of Florian, Kate!”
+
+“Nor even of him.”
+
+[Illustration: 044]
+
+“And yet that poor fellow was really in love,--nay, don't laugh, Kate,
+I know it. He gave up his career, everything he had in life,--he was
+a Secretary of Legation, with good prospects,--all to win your favor,
+becoming a 'Carbonaro,' or a 'Montagnard,' or something or other that
+swears to annihilate all kings and extirpate monarchy.”
+
+“And after that?” asked Kate, with more of interest.
+
+“After that, ma chère, they sent him to the galleys; I forget exactly
+where, but I think it was in Sicily. And then there was that Hungarian
+Count Nemescz, that wanted to kill somebody who picked up your bouquet
+out of the Grand Canal at Venice.”
+
+“And whom, strangely enough, I met and made acquaintance with in
+Ireland. His name is Massingbred.”
+
+“Not the celebrity, surely,--the young politician who made such a
+sensation by a first speech in Parliament t'other day? He's all the rage
+here. Could it be him?”
+
+“Possibly enough,” said she, carelessly. “He had very good abilities,
+and knew it.”
+
+“He comes to us occasionally, but I scarcely have any acquaintance with
+him. But this is not telling me of yourself, child. Who and what are
+these people you are living with? Do they value my dear Kate as they
+ought? Are they worthy of having her amongst them?”
+
+“I 'm afraid not,” said Kate, with a smile. “They do not seem at all
+impressed with the blessing they enjoy, and only treat me as one of
+themselves.”
+
+“But, seriously, child, are they as kind as they should be? That old
+lady is, to my thinking, as austere as an Archduchess.”
+
+“I like her,” said Kate; “that is, I like her cold, reserved manner,
+unbending as it is, which only demands the quiet duties of servitude,
+and neither asks nor wishes for affection. She admits me to no
+friendship, but she exacts no attachment.”
+
+“And you like this?”
+
+“I did not say I should like it from _you!_ said Kate, pressing the hand
+she held fervently to her lips, while her pale cheek grew faintly red.
+
+“And you go into the world with her,--at least _her_ world?”
+
+“She has none here. Too haughty for second-rate society, and unknown to
+those who form the first class at Paris, she never goes out.”
+
+“But she would--she would like to do so?”
+
+“I 'm sure she would.”
+
+“Then mamma shall visit her. You know she is everything here; her house
+is the rendezvous of all the distinguished people, and, once seen in her
+salons, my Lady--how do you call her?”
+
+“Lady Dorothea Martin.”
+
+“I can't repeat it--but no matter--her Ladyship shall not want for
+attentions. Perhaps she would condescend to come to me on Wednesday?
+Dare I venture to ask her?”
+
+Kate hesitated, and the Duchess quickly rejoined,--“No, dearest, you are
+quite right; it would be hazardous, too abrupt, too unceremonious. You
+will, however, be with us; and I long to present you to all my friends,
+and show them one to whom I owe so much, and ought to be indebted to
+for far more. I 'll send for you early, that we may have a long morning
+together.” And so saying, she arose to take leave.
+
+“I feel as though I 'll scarcely believe I had seen you when you have
+gone,” said Kate, earnestly. “I'll fancy it all a dream--or rather, that
+my life since we met has been one, and that we had never parted.”
+
+“Were we not very happy then, Kate?” said the Duchess, with a half-sigh;
+“happier, perhaps, than we may ever be again.”
+
+“_You_ must not say so, at all events,” said Kate, once more embracing
+her. And they parted.
+
+Kate arose and watched the splendid equipage as it drove away, and then
+slowly returned to her place at the work-table. She did not, however,
+resume her embroidery, but sat deep in reflection, with her hands
+clasped before her.
+
+“Poor fellow!” said she, at length, “a galley-slave, and Massingbred a
+celebrity! So much for honesty and truth in this good world of ours! Can
+it always go on thus? That is the question I'm curious to hear solved.
+A little time may, perhaps, reveal it!” So saying to herself, she leaned
+her head upon her hand, deep lost in thought.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IV. A VERY GREAT FAVOR
+
+Amongst the embarrassments of story-telling there is one which, to be
+appreciated, must have been experienced; it is, however, sufficiently
+intelligible to claim sympathy even by indicating,--we mean the
+difficulty a narrator has in the choice of those incidents by which
+his tale is to be marked out, and the characters who fill it adequately
+depicted.
+
+It is quite clear that a great number of events must occur in the story
+of every life of which no record can be made; some seem too trivial,
+some too irrelevant for mention, and yet, when we come to reflect upon
+real life itself, how many times do we discover that what appeared to be
+but the veriest trifles were the mainsprings of an entire existence,
+and the incidents which we deemed irrelevant were the hidden links
+that connected a whole chain of events? How easy, then, to err in the
+selection! This difficulty presents itself strongly to us at present; a
+vast number of circumstances rise before us from which we must refrain,
+lest they should appear to indicate a road we are not about to travel;
+and, at the same time, we feel the want of those very events to
+reconcile what may well seem contradictions in our history.
+
+It not unfrequently happens that an apology is just as tiresome as
+the offence it should excuse; and so, without further explanation, we
+proceed. Lady Dorothea soon found herself as much sought after as she
+had previously been neglected. The Duchesse de Luygnes was the great
+leader of fashion at Paris; and the marked attentions by which she
+distinguished her Ladyship at once established her position. Of course
+her unquestionable claim to station, and her own high connections
+rendered the task less difficult; while it imparted to Lady Dorothea's
+own manner and bearing that degree of dignity and calm which never
+accompany an insecure elevation.
+
+With such refinement of delicacy, such exquisite tact, was every step
+managed that her Ladyship was left to suppose every attention she
+received sprung out of her own undeniable right to them, and to the
+grace and charm of a manner which really had had its share of success
+some five-and-thirty years before. The gloomy isolation she had passed
+through gave a stronger contrast to the enjoyment of her present life;
+and for the first time for years she regained some of that courtly
+elegance of address which in her youth had pre-eminently distinguished
+her. The change had worked favorably in her temper also; and Martin
+perceived, with astonishment, that she neither made injurious
+comparisons between the present and the past, nor deemed the age they
+lived in one of insufferable vulgarity. It would scarcely have been
+possible for Lady Dorothea not to connect her altered position with the
+friendship between Kate Henderson and her former pupil; she knew it, and
+she felt it. All her self-esteem could not get over this consciousness;
+but it was a humiliation reserved for her own heart, since nothing in
+Kate's manner indicated even a suspicion of the fact. On the contrary,
+never had she shown herself more submissive and dependent. The duties
+of her office, multiplied as they were tenfold by her Ladyship's
+engagements, were all punctually acquitted, and with a degree of tact
+and cleverness that obtained from Lady Dorothea the credit of a charming
+note-writer. Nor was she indifferent to the effect Kate produced in
+society, where her beauty and fascination had already made a deep
+impression.
+
+Reserving a peculiar deference and respect for all her intercourse with
+Lady Dorothea, Kate Henderson assumed to the world at large the ease and
+dignity of one whose station was the equal of any. There was nothing in
+her air or bearing that denoted the dependant; there was rather a dash
+of haughty superiority, which did not scruple to avow itself and bid
+defiance to any bold enough to question its claims. Even this was a
+secret flattery to Lady Dorothea's heart; and she saw with satisfaction
+the success of that imperious tone which to herself was subdued to
+actual humility.
+
+Lady Dorothea Martin and her beautiful companion were now celebrities
+at Paris; and, assuredly, no city of the world knows how to shower
+more fascinations on those it favors. Life became to them a round of
+brilliant festivities. They received invitations from every quarter, and
+everywhere were met with that graceful welcome so sure to greet those
+whose airs and whose dress are the ornaments of a salon. They “received”
+ at home, too; and her Ladyship's Saturdays were about the most exclusive
+of all Parisian receptions. Tacitly, at least, the whole management and
+direction of these “Evenings” was committed to Kate. Martin strictly
+abstained from a society in every way distasteful to him. The Captain
+had come to care for nothing but play, so that the Club was his only
+haunt; and it was the rarest of all events to see him pass even a few
+minutes in the drawing-room. He had, besides, that degree of shrinking
+dislike to Kate Henderson which a weak man very often experiences
+towards a clever and accomplished girl. When he first joined his family
+at Paris, he was struck by her great beauty and the elegance of a manner
+that might have dignified any station, and he fell partly in love,--that
+is to say, as much in love as a captain of hussars could permit himself
+to feel for a governess. He condescended to make small advances, show
+her petty attentions, and even distinguish her by that flattering stare,
+with his glass to his eye, which he had known to be what the poet calls
+“blush-compelling” in many a fair cheek in provincial circles.
+
+To his marvellous discomfiture, however, these measures were not
+followed by any success. She never as much as seemed aware of them, and
+treated him with the same polite indifference, as though he had been
+neither a hussar nor a lady-killer. Of course he interpreted this as a
+piece of consummate cunning; he had no other measure for her capacity
+than would have been suited to his own. She was a deep one, evidently
+bent on drawing him on, and entangling him in some stupid declaration,
+and so he grew cautious. But, somehow, his reserve provoked as little
+as his boldness. She did not change in the least; she treated him with a
+quiet, easy sort of no-notice,--the most offensive thing possible to one
+bent upon being impressive, and firmly persuaded that he need only wish,
+to be the conqueror.
+
+Self-worship was too strong in him to suffer a single doubt as to his
+own capacity for success, and therefore the only solution to the mystery
+of her manner was its being an artful scheme, which time and a little
+watching would surely explain. Time went on, and yet he grew none the
+wiser; Kate continued the same impassive creature as at first. She never
+sought,--never avoided him. She met him without constraint,--without
+pleasure, too. They never became intimate, while there was no distance
+in their intercourse; till at last, wounded in his self-esteem, he
+began to feel that discomfort in her presence which only waits for the
+slightest provocation to become actual dislike.
+
+With that peevishness that belongs to small minds, he would have been
+glad to have discovered some good ground for hating her; and a dozen
+times a day did he fancy that he had “hit the blot,” but somehow he
+always detected his mistake erelong; and thus did he live on in that
+tantalizing state of uncertainty and indecision which combines about as
+much suffering as men of his stamp are capable of feeling.
+
+If Lady Dorothea never suspected the degree of influence Kate silently
+exercised over her, the Captain saw it palpably, and tried to nourish
+the knowledge into a ground for dislike. But somehow she would no more
+suffer herself to be hated than to be loved, and invariably baffled
+all his attempts to “get up” an indignation against her. By numberless
+devices--too slight, too evanescent to be called regular coquetry--she
+understood how to conciliate him, even in his roughest moods, while she
+had only to make the very least possible display of her attractions to
+fascinate him in his happier moments. The gallant hussar was not much
+given to self-examination. It was one of the last positions he would
+have selected; and yet he had confessed to his own heart that, though he
+'d not like to marry her himself, he 'd be sorely tempted to shoot any
+man who made her his wife.
+
+Lady Dorothea and Kate Henderson were seated one morning engaged in the
+very important task of revising the invitation-book,--weeding out the
+names of departed acquaintance, and canvassing the claims of those who
+should succeed them. The rigid criticism as to eligibility showed how
+great an honor was the card for her Ladyship's “Tea.” While they were
+thus occupied, Captain Martin entered the room with an open letter in
+his hand, his air and manner indicating flurry, if not actual agitation.
+
+“Sorry to interrupt a privy council,” said he, “but I've come to ask
+a favor,--don't look frightened; it's not for a woman, my Lady,--but I
+want a card for your next Saturday, for a male friend of mine.”
+
+“Kate has just been telling me that 'our men' are too numerous.”
+
+“Impossible. Miss Henderson knows better than any one that the success
+of these things depends on having a host of men,--all ages, all classes,
+all sorts of people,” said he, indolently.
+
+“I think we have complied with your theory,” said she, pointing to the
+book before her. “If our ladies are chosen for their real qualities, the
+men have been accepted with a most generous forbearance.”
+
+“One more, then, will not damage the mixture.”
+
+“Of course, Captain Martin, it is quite sufficient that he is a friend
+of yours--that you wish it--”
+
+“But it is no such thing, Miss Henderson,” broke in Lady Dorothea. “We
+have already given deep umbrage in many quarters--very high quarters,
+too--by refusals; and a single mistake would be fatal to us.”
+
+“But why need this be a mistake?” cried Captain Martin, peevishly. “The
+man is an acquaintance of mine,--a friend, if you like to call him so.”
+
+“And who is he?” asked my Lady, with all the solemnity of a judge.
+
+“A person I met at the Cape. We travelled home together--saw a great
+deal of each other--in fact--I know him as intimately as I do--any
+officer in my regiment,” said the Captain, blundering and faltering at
+every second word.
+
+“Oh! then he is one of your own corps?” said her Ladyship.
+
+“I never said so,” broke he in. “If he had been, I don't fancy I should
+need to employ much solicitation in his behalf; the--they are not
+usually treated in that fashion!”
+
+“I trust we should know how to recognize their merits,” said Kate,
+with a look which sorely puzzled him whether it meant conciliation or
+raillery.
+
+“And his name?” asked my Lady. “His name ought to be decisive, without
+anything more!”
+
+“He's quite a stranger here, knows nobody, so that you incur no risk as
+to any impertinent inquiries, and when he leaves this, to-morrow or next
+day, you 'll never see him again.” This the Captain said with all the
+confusion of an inexpert man in a weak cause.
+
+“Shall I address his card, or will you take it yourself, Captain
+Martin?” said Kate, in a low voice.
+
+“Write Merl,--Mr. Herman Merl,” said he, dropping his own voice to the
+same tone.
+
+“Merl!” exclaimed Lady Dorothea, whose quick hearing detected the words.
+“Why, where on earth could you have made acquaintance with a man called
+Merl?”
+
+“I have told you already where and how we met; and if it be
+any satisfaction to you to know that I am under considerable
+obligations--heavy obligations--to this same gentleman, perhaps it might
+incline you to show him some mark of attention.”
+
+“You could have him to dinner at your Club,--you might even bring him
+here, when we're alone, Harry; but really, to receive him at one of
+our Evenings! You know how curious people are, what questions they will
+ask:--'Who is that queer-looking man?'--I 'm certain he is so.--'Is he
+English?'--'Who does he belong to?'--'Does he know any one?'”
+
+“Let them ask me, then,” said Martin, “and I may, perhaps, be able to
+satisfy them.” At the same moment he took up from the table the card
+which Kate had just written, giving her a look of grateful recognition
+as he did so.
+
+“You 've done this at your own peril, Miss Henderson,” said Lady
+Dorothea, half upbraidingly.
+
+“At _mine_, be it rather,” said the Captain, sternly.
+
+“I accept my share of it willingly,” said Kate, with a glance which
+brought a deep flush over the hussar's cheek, and sent through him a
+strange thrill of pleasure.
+
+“Then I am to suppose we shall be honored with your own presence on this
+occasion,--rare favor that it is,” said her Ladyship.
+
+“Yes, I 'll look in. I promised Merl to present him.”
+
+“Oh, you need n't!” said she, peevishly. “Half the men merely make their
+bow when they meet me, and neither expect me to remember who they are
+or to notice them. I may leave your distinguished friend in the same
+category.”
+
+A quick glance from Kate--fleeting, but full of meaning--stopped Martin
+as he was about to make a hasty reply. And, crumpling up the card with
+suppressed passion, he turned and left the room.
+
+“Don't put that odious name on our list, Miss Henderson,” said Lady
+Dorothea; “we shall never have him again.”
+
+“I 'm rather curious to see him,” said Kate. “All this discussion has
+imparted a kind of interest to him, not to say that there would seem
+something like a mystery in Captain Martin's connection with him.”
+
+“I confess to no such curiosity,” said my Lady, haughtily. “The taste
+to be amused by vulgarity is like the passion some people have to see an
+hospital; you may be interested by the sight, but you may catch a malady
+for your pains.” And with this observation of mingled truth and fallacy
+her Ladyship sailed proudly out of the room in all the conscious
+importance of her own cleverness.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER V. A LETTER FROM HOME
+
+While this discussion was going on, Martin was seated in his own room,
+examining the contents of his letter-bag, which the post had just
+delivered to him. A very casual glance at his features would have
+discovered that the tidings which met his eye were very rarely of a
+pleasant character. For the most part the letters were importunate
+appeals for money, subscriptions, loans, small sums to be repaid when
+the borrower had risen above his present difficulties, aids to effect
+some little enterprise on whose very face was failure. Then there were
+the more formal demands for sums actually due, written in the perfection
+of coercive courtesy, subjecting the reader to all the tortures of a
+moral surgical operation, a suffering actually increased by the very
+dexterity of the manipulator. Then came, in rugged hand and gnarled
+shape, urgent entreaties for abatements and allowances, pathetic
+pictures of failing crops, sickness and sorrow! Somewhat in contrast to
+these in matter--most strikingly unlike them in manner--was a short note
+from Mr. Maurice Scanlan. Like a rebutting witness in a cause, he spoke
+of everything as going on favorably; prices were fair, the oat crop a
+reasonable one. There was distress, to be sure, but who ever saw the
+West without it? The potatoes had partially failed; but as there was a
+great deal of typhus and a threat of cholera, there would be fewer to
+eat them. The late storms had done a good deal of mischief, but as the
+timber thrown down might be sold without any regard to the entail, some
+thousand pounds would thus be realized; and as the gale had carried away
+the new pier at Kilkieran, there would be no need to give a bounty to
+the fishermen who could not venture out to sea. The damage done to the
+house and the conservatories at Cro' Martin offered an opportunity to
+congratulate the owner on the happiness of living in a milder climate;
+while the local squabbles of the borough suggested a pleasant contrast
+with all the enjoyments of a life abroad.
+
+On the whole, Mr. Scanlan's letter was rather agreeable than the
+reverse, since he contrived to accompany all the inevitable ills of
+fortune by some side-wind consolations, and when pushed hard for these,
+skilfully insinuated in what way “things might have been worse.” If the
+letter did not reflect very favorably on either the heart or brain that
+conceived it, it well suited him to whom it was addressed. To screen
+himself from whatever might irritate him, to escape an unpleasant
+thought or unhappy reflection, to avoid, above all things, the slightest
+approach of self-censure, was Martin's great philosophy; and he esteemed
+the man who gave him any aid in this road. Now newspapers might croak
+their dark predictions about the coming winter, prophesy famine, fever,
+and pestilence; Scanlan's letter, “written from the spot,” by “one who
+enjoyed every opportunity for forming a correct opinion,” was there,
+and _he_ said matters were pretty much as usual. The West of Ireland had
+never been a land of milk and honey, and nobody expected it ever would
+be,--the people could live in it, however, and pay rents too; and as
+Martin felt that he had no undue severity to reproach himself with,
+he folded up the epistle, saying that “when a man left his house and
+property for a while, it was a real blessing to have such a fellow as
+Scanlan to manage for him;” and truly, if one could have his conscience
+kept for a few hundreds a year, the compact might be a pleasant one. But
+even to the most self-indulgent this plan is impracticable; and so might
+it now be seen in Martin's heightened color and fidgety manner, and
+that even _he_ was not as much at ease within as he wished to persuade
+himself he was.
+
+Amid the mass of correspondence, pamphlets and newspapers, one note,
+very small and neatly folded, had escaped Martin's notice till the very
+last; and it was only as he heaped up a whole bundle to throw into the
+fire that he discovered this, in Mary's well-known hand. He held it
+for some time ere he broke the seal, and his features assumed a sadder,
+graver cast than before. His desertion of her--and he had not blinked
+the word to himself--had never ceased to grieve him; and however
+disposed he often felt to throw upon others the blame which attached to
+himself here, he attempted no casuistry, but stood quietly, without one
+plea in his favor, before his own heart.
+
+The very consciousness of his culpability had prevented him writing to
+her as he ought; his letters were few, short, and constrained. Not all
+the generous frankness of hers could restore to him the candid ease of
+his former intercourse with her; and every chance expression he used was
+conned over and canvassed by him, lest it might convey some sentiment,
+or indicate some feeling foreign to his intention. At length so painful
+had the task become that he had ceased writing altogether, contenting
+himself with a message through Kate Henderson,--some excuse about his
+health, fatigue,-and so forth, ever coupled with a promise that he
+would soon be himself again, and as active a correspondent as she could
+desire.
+
+To these apologies Mary always replied in a kindly spirit. Whatever
+sorrow they might have cost her she kept for herself; they never
+awakened one expression of impatience, not a word of reproach. She
+understood him thoroughly,--his easy indolence of disposition, his
+dislike to a task, his avoidance of whatever was possible to defer;
+more even than all these, his own unforgiveness of himself for his part
+towards her. To alleviate, so far as she might, the poignancy of the
+last, was for a while the great object of all her letters; and so
+she continued to expatiate on the happy life she was leading, her
+contentment with the choice she had made of remaining there, throwing
+in little playful sallies of condolence at her uncle's banishment, and
+jestingly assuring him how much happier he would be at home!
+
+In whatever mood, however, she wrote, there was a striking absence of
+whatever could fret or grieve her uncle throughout all her letters. She
+selected every pleasant topic and the favorable side of every theme to
+tell of. She never forgot any little locality which he had been partial
+to, or any of the people who were his favorites; and, in fact, it might
+have seemed that the great object she had in view was to attach him more
+and more to the home he had left, and strengthen every tie that bound
+him to his own country. And all this was done lightly and playfully, and
+with a pleasant promise of the happiness he should feel on the day of
+his return.
+
+These letters were about the pleasantest incidents in Martin's present
+life; and the day which brought him one was sure to pass agreeably,
+while he made vigorous resolutions about writing a reply, and sometimes
+got even so far as to open a desk and ruminate over an answer. It so
+chanced that now a much longer interval had occurred since Mary's last
+letter, and the appearance of the present note, so unlike the voluminous
+epistle she usually despatched, struck him with a certain dismay. “Poor
+Molly,” said he, as he broke the seal, “she is growing weary at last;
+this continued neglect is beginning to tell upon her. A little more,
+and she 'll believe--as well she may--that we have forgotten her
+altogether.”
+
+The note was even briefer than he had suspected. It was written, too,
+in what might seem haste, or agitation, and the signature forgotten.
+Martin's hand trembled, and his chest heaved heavily as he read the
+following lines:--
+
+“Cro' Martin, Wednesday Night
+
+“Dearest Uncle,--You will not suffer these few lines to remain
+unanswered, since they are written in all the pressure of a great
+emergency. Our worst fears for the harvest are more than realized; a
+total failure in the potatoes--a great diminution in the oat crop; the
+incessant rains have flooded all the low meadows, and the cattle are
+almost without forage, while from the same cause no turf can be cut, and
+even that already cut and stacked cannot be drawn away from the bogs.
+But, worse than all these, typhus is amongst us, and cholera, they say,
+coming. I might stretch out this dreary catalogue, but here is enough,
+more than enough, to awaken your sympathies and arouse you to action.
+There is a blight on the land; the people are starving--dying. If every
+sense of duty was dead within us, if we could harden our hearts against
+every claim of those from whose labor we derive ease, from whose toil we
+draw wealth and leisure, we might still be recalled to better things
+by the glorious heroism of these poor people, so nobly courageous, so
+patient are they in their trials. It is not now that I can speak of
+the traits I have witnessed of their affection, their charity, their
+self-denial, and their daring--but now is the moment to show them that
+we, who have been dealt with more favorably by fortune, are not devoid
+of the qualities which adorn their nature.
+
+“I feel all the cruelty of narrating these things to you, too far away
+from the scene of sorrow to aid by your counsel and encourage by your
+assistance; but it would be worse than cruelty to conceal from you
+that a terrible crisis is at hand, which will need all your energy to
+mitigate.
+
+“Some measures are in your power, and must be adopted at once. There
+must be a remission of rent almost universally, for the calamity has
+involved all; and such as are a little richer than their neighbors
+should be aided, that they may be the more able to help them. Some
+stores of provisions must be provided to be sold at reduced rates, or
+even given gratuitously. Medical aid must be had, and an hospital
+of some sort established. The able-bodied must be employed on some
+permanent work; and for these, we want power from you and some present
+moneyed assistance. I will not harrow your feelings with tales of
+sufferings. You have seen misery here--enough, I say--you have witnessed
+nothing like this, and we are at but the beginning.
+
+“Write to me at once yourself--this is no occasion to employ a
+deputy--and forgive me, dearest uncle, for I know not what faults of
+presumption I may have here committed. My head is confused; the crash
+of misfortunes has addled me, and each succeed so rapidly on each other,
+that remedies are scarcely employed than they have to be abandoned.
+When, however, I can tell the people that it is their own old friend and
+master that sends them help, and bids them to be of good cheer,--when
+I can show them that, although separated by distance, your heart never
+ceases to live amongst them,--I know well the magic working of such a
+spell upon them, and how, with a bravery that the boldest soldier never
+surpassed, they will rise up against the stern foes of sickness and
+famine, and do battle with hard fortune manfully.
+
+“You have often smiled at what you deemed my exaggerated opinion of
+these poor people,--my over-confidence in their capacity for good.
+Oh--take my word for it--I never gave them credit for one half the
+excellence of their natures. They are on their trial now, and nobly do
+they sustain it!
+
+“I have no heart to answer all your kind questions about myself,--enough
+that I am well; as little can I ask you about all your doings in Paris.
+I 'm afraid I should but lose temper if I heard that they were pleasant
+ones; and yet, with my whole soul, I wish you to be happy; and with
+this,
+
+“Believe me your affectionate
+
+“Mr. Repton has written me the kindest of letters, full of good advice
+and good sense; he has also enclosed me a check for £100, with an offer
+of more if wanted. I was low and depressed when his note reached me,
+but it gave me fresh energy and hope. He proposed to come down here if
+I wished; but how could I ask such a sacrifice,--how entreat him to face
+the peril?”
+
+“Tell Captain Martin I wish to speak to him,” said Martin, as he
+finished the perusal of this letter. And in a few minutes after, that
+gallant personage appeared, not a little surprised at the summons.
+
+“I have got a letter from Mary here,” said Martin, vainly endeavoring
+to conceal his agitation as he spoke, “which I want to show you. Matters
+are in a sad plight in the West. She never exaggerates a gloomy story,
+and her account is very afflicting. Read it.”
+
+The Captain lounged towards the window, and, leaning listlessly against
+the wall, opened the epistle.
+
+“You have not written to her lately, then?” asked he, as he perused the
+opening sentence.
+
+“I am ashamed to say I have not; every day I made a resolution; but
+somehow--”
+
+“Is all this anything strange or new?” broke in the Captain. “I 'm
+certain I have forty letters from my mother with exactly the same story.
+In fact, before I ever broke the seal, I 'd have wagered an equal
+fifty that the potatoes had failed, the bogs were flooded, the roads
+impassable, and the people dying in thousands; and yet, when spring came
+round, by some happy miracle they were all alive and merry again!”
+
+“Read on,” said Martin, impatiently, and barely able to control himself
+at this heartless commentary.
+
+“Egad! I 'd have sworn I had read all this before, except these same
+suggestions about not exacting the rents, building hospitals, and so
+forth; that _is_ new. And why does she say, 'Don't write by deputy'? Who
+_was_ your deputy?”
+
+“Kate Henderson has written for me latterly.”
+
+“And I should say she 's quite equal to that sort of thing; she dashes
+off my mother's notes at score, and talks away, too, all the time she 's
+writing.”
+
+“That is not the question before us,” said Martin, sternly.
+
+“When I sent for you to read that letter, it was that you might advise
+and counsel me what course to take.”
+
+“If you can afford to give away a year's income in the shape of rent,
+and about as much more in the shape of a donation, of course you 're
+quite free to do it. I only wish that your generosity would begin at
+home, though; for I own to you I 'm very hard-up at this moment.” This
+the Captain spoke with an attempted jocularity which decreased with
+every word, till it subsided into downright seriousness ere he finished.
+
+“So far from being in a position to do an act of munificence, I am
+sorely pressed for money,” said Martin.
+
+The Captain started; the half-smile with which he had begun to receive
+this speech died away on his lips as he asked, “Is this really the
+case?”
+
+“Most truly so,” said Martin, solemnly.
+
+“But how, in the name of everything absurd--how is this possible? By
+what stratagem could you have spent five thousand a year at Cro' Martin,
+and your estate was worth almost three times as much? Giving a very wide
+margin for waste and robbery, I 'd say five thousand could not be made
+away with there in a twelvemonth.”
+
+“Your question only shows me how carelessly you must have read my
+letters to you, in India,” said Martin; “otherwise you could not have
+failed to see the vast improvements we have been carrying out on the
+property,--the roads, the harbors, the new quarries opened, the extent
+of ground covered by plantation,--all the plans, in fact, which Mary had
+matured--”
+
+“Mary! Mary!” exclaimed the Captain. “And do you tell me that all these
+things were done at the instigation of a young girl of nineteen or
+twenty, without any knowledge, or even advice--”
+
+“And who said she was deficient in knowledge?” cried Martin. “Take up
+the map of the estate; see the lands she has reclaimed; look at the
+swamps you used to shoot snipe over bearing corn crops; see the thriving
+village, where once the boatmen were starving, for they dared not
+venture out to sea without a harbor against bad weather.”
+
+“Tell me the cost of all this. What's the figure?” said the Captain;
+“that's the real test of all these matters, for if _your_ income could
+only feed this outlay, I pronounce the whole scheme the maddest thing
+in Christendom. My mother's taste for carved oak cabinets and historical
+pictures is the quintessence of wisdom in comparison.”
+
+Martin was overwhelmed and silent, and the other went on,--“Half the
+fellows in 'ours' had the same story to tell,--of estates wasted,
+and fine fortunes squandered in what are called improvements. If the
+possession of a good property entails the necessity to spend it all in
+this fashion, one is very little better than a kind of land-steward to
+one's own estate; and, for my part, I 'd rather call two thousand a year
+my own, to do what I pleased with, than have a nominal twenty, of which
+I must disburse nineteen.”
+
+“Am I again to remind you that this is not the question before us?” said
+Martin, with increased sternness.
+
+“That is exactly the very question,” rejoined the Captain. “Mary here
+coolly asks you, in the spirit of this same improvement-scheme, to
+relinquish a year's income, and make a present of I know not how much
+more, simply because things are going badly with them, just as if
+everybody has n't their turn of ill-fortune. Egad, I can answer for it,
+_mine_ has n't been flourishing latterly, and yet I have heard of no
+benevolent plan on foot to aid or release me!”
+
+To this heartless speech, uttered, however, in most perfect sincerity,
+Martin made no reply whatever, but sat with folded arms, deep in
+contemplation. At length, raising his head, he asked, “And have you,
+then, no counsel to give,--no suggestion to make me?”
+
+“Well,” said he, suddenly, “if Mary has not greatly overcharged all this
+story--”
+
+“That she has not,” cried Martin, interrupting him. “There 's not a
+line, not a word of her letter, I 'd not guarantee with all I 'm worth
+in the world.”
+
+“In that case,” resumed the Captain, in the same indolent tone, “they
+must be in a sorry plight, and _I_ think ought to cut and run as fast as
+they can. I know that's what _we_ do in India; when the cholera comes,
+we break up the encampment, and move off somewhere else. Tell Mary,
+then, to advise them to keep out of 'the jungle,' and make for the hill
+country.'”
+
+Martin stared at the speaker for some seconds, and it was evident how
+difficult he found it to believe that the words he had just listened to
+were uttered in deliberate seriousness.
+
+“If you have read that letter, you certainly have not understood it,”
+ said he at last, in a voice full of melancholy meaning.
+
+“Egad, it's only too easy of comprehension,” replied the Captain; “of
+all things in life, there's no mistaking a demand for money.”
+
+“Just take it with you to your own room, Harry,” said Martin, with
+a manner of more affection than he had yet employed. “It is my firm
+persuasion that when you have re-read and thought over it, your
+impression will be a different one. Con it over in solitude, and then
+come back and give me your advice.”
+
+The Captain was not sorry to adopt a plan which relieved him so speedily
+from a very embarrassing situation, and, folding up the note, he turned
+and left the room.
+
+There are a great number of excellent people in this world who believe
+that “Thought,” like “Écarté,” is a game which requires two people to
+play. The Captain was one of these; nor was it within his comprehension
+to imagine how any one individual could suffice to raise the doubts he
+was called on to canvass or decide. “Who should he now have recourse
+to?” was his first question; and he had scarcely proposed it to himself
+when a soft low voice said, “What is puzzling Captain Martin?--can I be
+of any service to him?” He turned and saw Kate Henderson.
+
+“Only think how fortunate!” exclaimed he. “Just come in here to this
+drawing-room, and give me your advice.”
+
+“Willingly,” said she, with a courtesy the more marked because his
+manner indicated a seriousness that betokened trouble.
+
+“My father has just dismissed me to cogitate over this epistle; as
+if, after all, when one has read a letter, that any secret or mystical
+interpretation is to come by all the reconsideration and reflection in
+the world.”
+
+“Am I to read it?” asked Kate, as he placed it in her hand.
+
+“Of course you are,” said he.
+
+“There is nothing confidential or private in it which I ought not to
+see?”
+
+“Nothing; and if there were,” added he, warmly, “_you_ are one of
+ourselves, I trust,--at least _I_ think you so.”
+
+Kate's lips closed with almost stern % impressiveness, but her color
+never changed at this speech, and she opened the letter in silence. For
+some minutes she continued to read with the same impassive expression;
+but gradually her cheek became paler, and a haughty, almost scornful,
+expression settled on her lips. “So patient are they in their trials,”
+ said she, reading aloud the expression of Mary's note. “Is it not
+possible, Captain Martin, that patience may be pushed a little beyond a
+virtue, and become something very like cowardice,--abject cowardice?
+And then,” cried she impetuously, and not waiting for his reply, “to
+say that now is the time to show these poor people the saving care and
+protection that the rich owe them, as if the duty dated from the hour of
+their being struck down by famine, laid low by pestilence, or that the
+debt could ever be acquitted by the relief accorded to pauperism! Why
+not have taught these same famished creatures self-dependence, elevated
+them to the rank of civilized beings by the enjoyment of rights that
+give men self-esteem as well as liberty? What do you mean to do,
+sir?--or is that your difficulty?” cried she, hastily changing her tone
+to one of less energy.
+
+“Exactly,--that is _my difficulty_. My father, I suspect, wishes me to
+concur in the pleasant project struck out by Mary, and that, by way of
+helping _them_, we should ruin _ourselves_.”
+
+“And _you_ are for--” She stopped, as if to let him finish her question
+for her.
+
+“Egad, I don't know well what I'm for, except it be self-preservation.
+I mean,” said he, correcting himself, as a sudden glance of almost
+insolent scorn shot from Kate's eyes towards him,--“I mean that I 'm
+certain more than half of this account is sheer exaggeration. Mary is
+frightened,--as well she may be,--finding herself all alone, and
+hearing nothing but the high-colored stories the people brings her, and
+listening to calamities from morning to night.”
+
+“But still it _may_ be all true,” said Kate, solemnly. “It may be--as
+Miss Martin writes--that 'there is a blight on the land.'”
+
+“What's to be done, then?” asked he, in deep embarrassment.
+
+“The first step is to ascertain what is fact,--the real extent of the
+misfortune.”
+
+“And how is that to be accomplished?” asked he.
+
+“Can you not think of some means?” said she, with a scarcely perceptible
+approach to a smile.
+
+“No, by Jove! that I cannot, except by going over there one's self.”
+
+“And why not that?” asked she, more boldly, while she fixed her large
+full eyes directly upon him.
+
+“If _you_ thought that I ought to go,--if you advised it and would
+actually say 'Go'--”
+
+“Well, if I should?”
+
+“Then I'd set off to-night; though, to say truth, neither the journey
+nor the business are much to my fancy.”
+
+“Were they ten times less so, sir, I'd say, 'Go,'” said she, resolutely.
+
+“Then go I will,” cried the Captain; “and I'll start within two hours.”
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VI. MR. MERL'S DEPARTURE
+
+Worthy reader, you are neither weak of purpose nor undecided in action;
+as little are you easily moved by soft influences, when aided by long
+eyelashes. But had you been so, it would have been no difficult effort
+for you to comprehend the state of mind in which Captain Martin repaired
+to his room to make preparation for his journey. There was a kind of
+half chivalry in his present purpose that nerved and supported him. It
+was like a knight-errant of old setting out to confront a peril at the
+behest of his lady-love; but against this animating conviction there
+arose that besetting sin of small minds,--a sense of distrust,--a
+lurking suspicion that he might be, all this while, nothing but the dupe
+of a very artful woman.
+
+“Who can tell,” said he to himself, “what plan she may have in all this,
+or what object she may propose to herself in getting _me_ out of the
+way? I don't think she really cares one farthing about the distress of
+these people, supposing it all to be true; and as to the typhus fever
+and cholera, egad! if they be there, one ought to think twice before
+rushing into the midst of them. And then, again, what do I know about
+the country or its habits? I have no means of judging if it be poorer or
+sicklier or; more wretched than usual. To _my_ eyes, it always seemed
+at the lowest depth of want and misery; every one went half starved and
+more than half naked. I 'm sure there is no necessity for my going some
+few hundred and odd miles to refresh my memory on this pleasant fact;
+and yet this is precisely what I 'm about to do. Is it by way of trying
+her power over me? By Jove, I 've hit it!” cried he, suddenly, as he
+stopped arranging a mass of letters which he was reducing to order
+before his departure. “That's her game; there's no doubt of it! She
+has said to herself, 'This will prove him. If he do this at my bidding,
+he'll do more.' Ay, but will he, mademoiselle? that's the question. A
+young hussar may turn out to be a very old soldier. What if I were just
+to tell her so. Girls of her stamp like a man all the better when he
+shows himself to be wide-awake. I 'd lay a fifty on it she 'll care more
+for me when she sees I 'm her own equal in shrewdness. And, after all,
+why should _I_ go? I could send my valet, Fletcher,--just the kind of
+fellow for such a mission,--never knew the secret he could n't worm out;
+there never was a bit of barrack scandal he did n't get to the bottom
+of. He 'd be back here within a fortnight, with the whole state of the
+case, and I'll be bound there will be no humbugging _him_.”
+
+This bright idea was not, however, without its share of detracting
+reflections, for what became of all that personal heroism on which he
+reposed such hope, if the danger were to be encountered by deputy? This
+was a puzzle, not the less that he had not yet made up his mind whether
+he 'd really be in love with Kate Henderson, or only involve _her_ in an
+unfortunate attachment for _him_. While he thus pondered and hesitated,
+strewing his room with the contents of drawers and cabinets, by way of
+aiding the labor of preparation, his door was suddenly opened, and Mr.
+Merl made his appearance. Although dressed with all his habitual regard
+to effect, and more than an ordinary display of chains and trinkets,
+that gentleman's aspect betokened trouble and anxiety; at least, there
+was a certain restlessness in his eye that Martin well understood as an
+evidence of something wrong within.
+
+“Are you getting ready for a journey, Captain?” asked he, as he entered.
+
+“I was thinking of it; but I believe I shall not go. I 'm undecided.”
+
+“Up the Rhine?”
+
+“No; not in that direction.”
+
+“South,--towards Italy, perhaps?”
+
+“Nor there, either. I was meditating a trip to England.”
+
+“We should be on the road together,” said Merl. “I'm off by four
+o'clock.”
+
+“How so? What's the reason of this sudden start?”
+
+“There's going to be a crash here,” said Merl, speaking in a lower tone.
+“The Government have been doing the thing with too high a hand, and
+there's mischief brewing.”
+
+“Are you sure of this?” asked Martin.
+
+“Only too sure, that's all. I bought in, on Tuesday last, at sixty-four
+and an eighth, and the same stock is now fifty-one and a quarter, and
+will be forty to-morrow. The day after--” Here Mr. Merl made a motion
+with his outstretched arm, to indicate utter extinction.
+
+“You're a heavy loser, then?” asked Martin, eagerly.
+
+“I shall be, to the tune of some thirteen thousand pounds. It was just
+on that account I came in here. I shall need money within the week, and
+must turn those Irish securities of yours into cash,--some of them at
+least,--and I want a hint from you as to which I ought to dispose of
+and which hold over. You told me one day, I remember, that there was a
+portion of the property likely to rise greatly in value--”
+
+“_You_ told me, sir,” said Captain Martin, breaking suddenly in, “when
+I gave you these same bonds, that they should remain in your own hands,
+and never leave them. That was the condition on which I gave them.”
+
+“I suppose, Captain, you gave them for something; you did not make a
+present of them,” said the Jew, coloring slightly.
+
+“If I did not make a present of them,” rejoined Martin, “the transaction
+was about as profitable to me.”
+
+“You owed me the money, sir; that, at least, is the way I regard the
+matter.”
+
+“And when I paid it by these securities, you pledged yourself not to
+negotiate them. I explained to you how the entail was settled,--that the
+property must eventually be mine,--and you accepted the arrangement on
+these conditions.”
+
+“All true, Captain; but nobody told me, at that time, there was going
+to be a revolution in Paris,--which there will be within forty-eight
+hours.”
+
+“Confounded fool that I was to trust the fellow!” said Martin to
+himself, but quite loud enough to be heard; then turning to Merl, he
+said, “What do you mean by converting them into cash? Are you about to
+sell part of our estate?”
+
+“Nothing of the kind, Captain,” said Merl, smiling at the innocence of
+the question. “I am simply going to deposit these where I can obtain
+an advance upon them. I promise you, besides, it shall not be in any
+quarter by which the transaction can reach the ears of your family.
+This assurance will, I trust, satisfy _you_, and entitle _me_ to the
+information I ask for.”
+
+“What information do you allude to?” asked Martin, who had totally
+forgotten what the Jew announced as the reason of his visit.
+
+“I asked you, Captain,” said Merl, resuming the mincing softness of
+his usual manner, “as to which of these securities might be the more
+eligible for immediate negotiation?”
+
+“And how should I know, sir?” replied the other, rudely. “I am very
+little acquainted with the property itself; I know still less about the
+kind of dealings you speak of. It does not concern me in the least
+what you do, or how you do it. I believe I may have given you bonds for
+something very like double the amount of all you ever advanced to me.
+I hear of nothing from my father but the immense resources of this, and
+the great capabilities of that; but as these same eventualities are
+not destined to better _my_ condition, I have not troubled my head to
+remember anything about them. You have a claim of about twenty thousand
+against me.”
+
+“Thirty-two thousand four hundred and seventy-eight pounds,” said the
+Jew, reading from a small note-book which he had just taken from his
+waistcoat pocket.
+
+“That is some ten thousand more than ever I heard of,” said Martin, with
+an hysterical sort of laugh. “Egad, Merl, the fellows were right that
+would not have you in the 'Cercle.' You 'd have 'cleared every man of
+them out,'--as well let a ferret into a rabbit warren.”
+
+“I was n't aware,--I had not heard that I was put up--”
+
+“To be sure you were; in all form proposed, seconded, and duly
+blackballed. I own to you, I thought it very hard, very illiberal. There
+are plenty of fellows there that have no right to be particular; and so
+Jack Massingbred as much as told them. The fact is, Merl, you ought to
+have waited awhile, and by the time that Harlowe and Spencer Cavendish
+and a few more such were as deep in your books as I am, you 'd have had
+a walk over. Willoughby says the same. It might have cost you something
+smart, but you 'd have made it pay in the end,--eh, Merl?”
+
+To this speech, uttered in a strain of jocular impertinence, Merl made
+no reply. He had just torn one of his gloves in pieces in the effort
+to draw it on, and he was busily exerting himself to get rid of the
+fragments.
+
+“Lady Dorothea had given me a card for you for Saturday,” resumed the
+Captain; “but as you 're going away--Besides, after this defeat at
+the Club, you could n't well come amongst all these people; so there's
+nothing for it but patience, Merl, patience--”
+
+“A lesson that may be found profitable to others, perhaps,” said the
+Jew, with one of his furtive looks at the Captain, who quailed under it
+at once.
+
+“I was going to give you a piece of advice, Merl,” said he, in a tone
+the very opposite to his late bantering one. “It was, that you should
+just take a run over to Ireland yourself, and see the property.”
+
+“I mean to do so, Captain Martin,” said the other, calmly.
+
+“I can't offer you letters, for they would defeat what you desire to
+accomplish; besides, there is no member of the family there at present
+but a young lady-cousin of mine.”
+
+“Just the kind of introduction I 'd like,” said the Jew, with all the
+zest of a man glad to say what he knew would be deemed an impertinence.
+
+Martin grew crimson with suppressed anger, but never spoke a word.
+
+“Is this the Cousin Mary I have heard you speak of,” said Merl,--“the
+great horsewoman, and she that ventures out alone on the Atlantic in a
+mere skiff?”
+
+Martin nodded. His temper was almost an overmatch for him, and he dared
+not trust himself to speak.
+
+“I should like to see her amazingly, Captain,” resumed Merl.
+
+“Remember, sir, you have no lien upon _her_,” said Martin, sternly.
+
+The Jew smirked and ran his fingers through his hair with the air of one
+who deemed such an eventuality by no means so very remote.
+
+“Do you know, Master Merl,” said Martin, staring at him from head
+to foot with an expression the reverse of complimentary, “I 'm half
+disposed to give you a few lines to my cousin; and if you 'll not take
+the thing as a _mauvais plaisanterie_ on my part, I will do so.”. “Quite
+the contrary, Captain. I 'll deem it a great favor, indeed,” said Merl,
+with an admirable affectation of unconsciousness.
+
+“Here goes, then,” said Martin, sitting down to a table, and preparing
+his writing materials, while in a hurried hand he began:--
+
+“'Dear Cousin Mary,--This will introduce to you Mr. Herman Merl, who
+visits your remote regions on a tour of----What shall I say?”
+
+“Pleasure,--amusement,” interposed Merl.
+
+“No, when I _am_ telling a fib, I like a big one,--I 'll say,
+philanthropy, Merl; and there's nothing so well adapted to cover those
+secret investigations you are bent upon,--a tour of philanthropy.
+
+“'You will, I am sure, lend him all possible assistance in his
+benevolent object,--the same being to dispose of the family acres,--and
+at the same time direct his attention to whatever may be matter of
+interest,--whether mines, quarries, or other property easily convertible
+into cash,--treating him in all respects as one to whom I owe many
+obligations--and several thousand pounds.'
+
+“Will that do, think you?”
+
+“Perfectly; nothing better.”
+
+“In return, I shall ask one favor at your hands,” said Martin, as
+he folded and addressed the epistle. “It is that you write me a full
+account of what you see in the West,--how the country looks, and the
+people. Of course it will all seem terribly poor and destitute, and all
+that sort of thing, to your eyes; but just try and find out if it be
+worse than usual. Paddy is such a shrewd fellow, Merl, that it will
+require all your own sharpness not to be taken in by him. A long letter
+full of detail--a dash of figures in it--as to how many sheep have the
+rot, or how many people have caught the fever, will improve it,--you
+know the kind of thing I mean; and--I don't suppose you care about
+shooting, yourself, but you 'll get some one to tell you--are the birds
+plenty and in good condition. There's a certain Mr. Scanlan, if you
+chance upon him; he 's up to everything, and not a bad performer at
+dummy whist,--though I think _you_ could teach him a thing or two.” Merl
+smiled and tried to look flattered, while the other went on: “And there
+'s another, called Henderson,--the steward,--a very shrewd person,--but
+_you_ don't need all these particulars; you may be trusted to your own
+good guidance,--eh, Merl?”
+
+Merl again smiled in the same fashion as before; in fact, so completely
+had he resumed the bland expression habitual to him, that the
+Captain almost forgot the unpleasant cause of his visit, and all the
+disagreeable incidents of the interview.
+
+“You could n't give me a few lines to this Mr. Scanlan?” asked Merl,
+with an air of easy indifference.
+
+“Nothing easier,” cried the Captain, reseating himself; then suddenly
+rising, with the expression of one to whom a sudden thought had just
+crossed the mind, “Wait one second for me here, Merl; I'll be back with
+you at once.” And as he spoke he dashed out of the room, and hastened to
+his father.
+
+“By a rare piece of luck,” cried he, as he entered, “I 've just chanced
+upon the very fellow we want; an acquaintance I picked up at the
+Cape,--up to everything; he goes over to Ireland to-night, and he 'll
+take a run down to Cro' Martin, and send us his report of all he sees.
+Whatever he tells us may be relied upon; for, depend upon 't, no lady
+can humbug _him_. I 've just given him a note for Mary, and I 'll write
+a few lines also by way of introducing him to Scanlan.”
+
+Martin could barely follow the Captain, as with rapid utterance he
+poured forth this plan. “Do I know him? What's his name?” asked he at
+last.
+
+“You never saw him. His name is Merl,--Herman Merl,--a fellow of
+considerable wealth; a great speculator,--one of those Stock Exchange
+worthies who never deal in less than tens of thousands. He has a
+crotchet in his head about buying up half the West of Ireland,--some
+scheme about flax and the deep-sea fishery. I don't understand it, but
+I suppose _he_ does. At all events, he has plenty of money, and the head
+to make it fructify; and if he only take a liking to it, he 's the very
+fellow to buy up Kilkieran, and the islands, and the rest of that waste
+district you were telling me of t'other night. But I must n't detain
+him. He starts at four o'clock; and I only ran over here to tell you not
+to worry yourself any more about Mary's letter. He 'll look to it all.”
+
+And with this consolatory assurance the Captain hastened away, leaving
+Martin as much relieved in mind as an indolent nature and an easy
+conscience were sure to make him. To get anybody “to look to” anything
+had been his whole object in life; to know that, whatever happened,
+there was always somebody who misstated this, or neglected that, at
+whose door all the culpability--where there was such--could be laid
+and but for whom he had himself performed miracles of energy and
+devotedness, and endured all the tortures and trials of a martyr. He
+was, indeed, as are a great many others in this world, an excellent man
+to his own heart,--kind, charitable, and affectionate; a well-wisher
+to his kind, and hopeful of almost every one; but, all this while, his
+virtues, like a miser's gold, had no circulation; they remained locked
+up within him for his own use alone, and there he sat, counting them
+over and gazing at them, speculating upon all that this affluence could
+do, and--never doing it!
+
+Life abounds with such men. They win respect while they live, and white
+marble records their virtues when they die! Nor are they all useless.
+Their outward bearing at least simulates whatever we revere in good men,
+and we accept them in the same spirit of compromise as we take stucco
+for stone; if they do no more, they show our appreciation of the “real
+article.”
+
+The Captain was not long in inditing a short note to Scanlan, to whom,
+“strictly confidential,” Mr. Merl was introduced as a great capitalist
+and speculator, desirous to ascertain all the resources of the land.
+Scanlan was enjoined to show him every attention, making his visit in
+all respects as agreeable as possible.
+
+“This fellow will treat you well, Merl,” said the Captain, as he folded
+the letter; “will give you the best salmon you ever tasted, and a glass
+of Gordon's Madeira such as few could sport now-a-days. And if you
+have a fancy for a day with my Cousin Mary's hounds, he 'll mount you
+admirably, and show you the way besides.” And with this speech Martin
+wished him good-bye; and closing the door after him, added, “And if
+he'll kindly assist you to a broken neck, it's about the greatest
+service he could render me!”
+
+The laugh, silly and meaningless, that followed his utterance of this
+speech, showed that it was spoken in all the listlessness of one who had
+not really character enough to be even a “good hater.”
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VII. THE CLUB
+
+So little impression had Merl's gloomy forebodings made upon Captain
+Martin, that he actually forgot everything that this shrewd gentleman
+predicted, and only partially recalled them when the conversation the
+next morning at the Club turned on the disturbed state of the capital.
+People in “society” find it excessively difficult to believe in anything
+like an organized opposition to the authorities of a government. They
+are so accustomed to hear of street assemblages being scattered by a few
+soldiers, mobs routed by a handful of mounted policemen, that they are
+slow to imagine how any formidable movement can take its rise in such a
+source. But the maladies of states, like those of the human frame,
+are often mere trifles in their origin; chance, and the concurrence of
+events swell their importance, till they assume an aspect of perhaps
+greater menace than they deserve. This is essentially the case in
+revolutionary struggles, where, at the outset, none ever contemplates
+the extent to which the mischief may reach. The proclamation of the
+“Ordinances,” as they were called, had produced a great excitement
+in Paris. Groups of men in every street were gathered around some one
+reading aloud the violent commentaries of the public papers; thoughtful
+and stern faces were met at every corner; a look of expectancy--an
+expression that seemed to say, What next?--was perceptible on all sides.
+Many of the shops were half closed, and in some the objects of great
+value were withdrawn to places of greater security. It was clear to see
+that men apprehended some great crisis; but whence it should come, or by
+whose instrumentality promoted, none seemed able to guess. Now and then
+a mounted orderly would ride by at a smart trot, or a patrol party
+of dragoons dash past; and the significant glance that followed them
+indicated how full of meaning these signs appeared.
+
+The day passed in this state of anxious uncertainty; and although the
+journals discussed the condition of the capital as full of danger and
+menace, an ostentatious announcement in the “Moniteur” proclaimed Paris
+to be tranquil. In society--at least in the world of fashion and high
+life--there were very few who would have disputed the official despatch.
+“Who and what were they who could dispute the King's Government? Who and
+where were there either leaders or followers? In what way should they
+attempt it? The troops in and around Paris numbered something over forty
+thousand, commanded by an old Marshal of the Empire, now the trustiest
+adherent of royalty. The days of Mirabeaus and Robespierres and Dantons
+had passed away; nor were these times in which men would like to recall
+the reigns of terror and the guillotine.” So they reasoned--or, if the
+phrase be too strong, so they talked--who lounged on soft-cushioned
+ottomans, or moved listlessly over luxurious carpets; all agreeing that
+it would be treasonable in the Ministers to retreat or abate one jot of
+the high prerogative of the Crown. Powdered heads shook significantly,
+and gold-embroidered vests heaved indignantly at the bare thought that
+the old spirit of '95 should have survived amongst them; but not one
+dreamed that the event boded seriously, or that the destinies of a great
+nation were then in the balance.
+
+It is but five-and-twenty years ago; and how much more have we learned
+of the manufacture of revolutions in the interval! Barricades and street
+warfare have become a science, and the amount of resistance a half-armed
+populace can offer to a regular force is as much a matter of certainty
+as a mathematical theorem. At that period, however, men were but in
+the infancy of this knowledge; the traditions of the Great Revolution
+scarcely were remembered, and, for the most part, they were
+inapplicable.
+
+What wonder, then, if people in society smiled scornfully at the
+purposeless masses that occasionally moved past beneath their windows,
+shouting with discordant voices some fragments of the “Marseillaise,”
+ or, as they approached the residence of any in authority, venturing
+on the more daring cry of “Down with the Ordinances!” The same tone of
+haughty contempt pervaded the “Club.” Young men of fashion, little given
+to the cares of political life, and really indifferent to the action of
+laws which never invaded the privileges of the play-table, or curtailed
+one prerogative of the “Coulisses,” felt an angry impatience at all the
+turbulence and riot of the public streets.
+
+In a magnificently furnished salon of the Club a number of these young
+men were now assembled. Gathered from every nation of Europe,--many of
+them bearing names of high historical interest,--they were, so far as
+dress, air, and appearance went, no ignoble representatives of the
+class they belonged to. The proud and haughty Spaniard, the fierce-eyed,
+daring-looking Pole, the pale, intellectual-faced Italian, the courteous
+Russian, and the fair-haired, stalwart Saxon were all there; and,
+however dissimilar in type, banded together by the magic influence of
+the “set” they moved in, to an almost perfect uniformity of sentiment
+and opinion.
+
+“I vote that any man be fined ten Louis that alludes, however remotely,
+to this confounded question again,” cried Count Gardoni, rising
+impatiently from his chair and approaching a card-table.
+
+“And I second you!” exclaimed a Polish prince, with a Russian decoration
+at his button-hole.
+
+“Carried _nem. con._” said Captain Martin, seating himself at the
+play-table. “And now for the 'Lansquenet.'” And in a moment every seat
+was occupied, and purses of gold and pocket-books of bank-notes were
+strewed over the board. They were all men who played high; and the game
+soon assumed the grave character that so invariably accompanies large
+wagers. Wonderfully little passed, except the terms of the game itself.
+Gambling is a jealous passion, and never admits its votaries to wander
+in their attention. And now large sums passed from hand to hand, and all
+the passions of hope and fear racked heads and hearts around, while a
+decorous silence prevailed; or, when broken, some softly toned voice
+alone interrupted the stillness.
+
+“Are you going, Martin?” whispered the young French Count de Nevers, as
+the other moved noiselessly back from the table.
+
+“It is high time, I think,” said Martin; “this is my seventeenth night
+of losing,--losing heavily, too. I'm sick of it!”
+
+“Here 's a chance for you, Martin,” said a Russian prince, who had just
+assumed “the bank.” “You shall have your choice of color, and your own
+stake.”
+
+“Thanks; but I'll not be tempted.”
+
+“I say red, and a thousand francs,” cried a Neapolitan.
+
+“There 's heavier play outside, I suspect,” said Martin, as a wild,
+hoarse shout from the streets re-echoed through the room.
+
+“A fine,--a fine,--Martin is fined!” cried several around the table.
+
+“You have n't left me wherewithal to pay it, gentlemen,” said he,
+laughing. “I was just about to retire, a bankrupt, into private life.”
+
+“That's platoon fire,” exclaimed the Pole, as the loud detonation of
+small arms seemed to shake the very room.
+
+“Czernavitz also fined,” cried two together.
+
+“I bow in submission to the Court,” said the Pole, throwing down the
+money on the table.
+
+“Lend _me_ as much more,” said Martin; “it may change my luck.” And with
+this gambler's philosophy, he again drew nigh the table.
+
+This slight interruption over, the game proceeded as before. Martin,
+however, was now a winner, every wager succeeding, and every bet he made
+a gain.
+
+“There's nothing like a dogged persistence,” said the Russian. “Fortune
+never turns her back on him who shows constancy. See Martin, now; by
+that very resolution he has conquered, and here we are, all cleared
+out!”
+
+“I am, for one,” cried an Italian, flinging his empty purse on the
+table.
+
+“There's my last Louis,” said Nevers. “I reserve it to pay for my
+supper.”
+
+“Martin shall treat us all to supper!” exclaimed another.
+
+“Where shall it be, then?” said Martin; “here, or at my own quarters?”
+
+“Here, by all means,” cried some.
+
+“I 'm for the Place Vendôme,” said the Pole, “for who knows but we shall
+catch a glimpse of that beautiful girl, Martin's 'Belle Irlandaise.'”
+
+“I saw her to-night,” said the Italian, “and I own she _is_ all you say.
+She was speaking to Villemart, and I assure you the old Minister won't
+forget it in a hurry. Something or other he said about the noise in the
+street drew from him the word _canaille_. She turned round at once and
+attacked him. He replied, and the controversy grew warm; so much so,
+that many gathered around them to listen, amongst whom I saw the Duc
+de Guiche, Prince du Saulx, and the Austrian Minister. Nothing could be
+more perfect than her manner,--calm, without any effrontery; assured,
+and yet no sacrifice of delicacy. It was easy to see, too, that the
+theme was not one into which she stumbled by an accident; she knew every
+event of the Great Revolution, and used the knowledge with consummate
+skill, and, but for one slip, with consummate temper also.
+
+“What was the slip you allude to?” cried the Russian.
+
+“It was when Villemart, after a boastful enumeration of the superior
+merits of his order, called them the 'Enlighteners of the People.'
+
+“'You played that part on one occasion,' said she; 'but I scarcely
+thought you 'd like to refer to it.'
+
+“'How so? When do you mean?' asked he.
+
+“'When they hung you to the lanterns,' said she, with the energy of
+a tigress in her look. Pardié! at that moment I never saw anything so
+beautiful or so terrible.”
+
+A loud uproar in the street without, in which the sound of troop-horses
+passaging to and fro could be distinguished, now interrupted the
+colloquy. As the noise increased, a low, deep roar, like the sound of
+distant thunder, could be heard, and the Pole cried out,--“Messieurs les
+Sans-culottes, I strongly advise you to turn homewards, for, if I be not
+much mistaken, here comes the artillery.”
+
+“The affair may turn out a serious one, after all,” broke in the
+Italian.
+
+“A serious one!” echoed the Pole, scornfully. “How can it? Forty
+battalions of infantry, ten thousand sabres, and eight batteries; are
+they not enough, think you, to rout this contemptible herd of street
+rioters?”
+
+“There--listen! It has begun already!” exclaimed Martin, as the sharp
+report of fire-arms, quite close to the windows, was followed by a
+crash, and then a wild, mad shout, half rage, half defiance.
+
+“There's nothing for it, in these things, but speedy action,” said
+the Pole; “grape and cavalry charges to clear the streets, and rifle
+practice at anything that shows itself at the windows.”
+
+“It is so easy, so very easy, to crush a mob,” said the Russian, “if you
+only direct your attention to the leader,--think of nothing but _him_.
+Once you show that, whatever may be the fate of others, death must be
+his, the whole assemblage becomes a disorganized, unwieldy mass, to be
+sabred or shot down at pleasure.”
+
+“Soldiers have no fancy for this kind of warfare,” said De Nevers,
+haughtily; “victory is never glorious, defeat always humiliation.”
+
+“But who talks of defeat?” exclaimed the Pole, passionately. “The
+officer who could fail against such an enemy should be shot by a
+court-martial. We have, I believe, every man of us here, served; and
+I asked you, what disproportion of force could suggest a doubt of
+success?”
+
+As he spoke, the door of the room was suddenly opened, and a young
+man, with dress all disordered, and the fragment of a hat in his hand,
+entered.
+
+“What, Massingbred!” cried one, “how came you to be so roughly handled?”
+
+“So much for popular politeness!” exclaimed the Russian, as he took up
+the tattered remains of a dress-coat, and exhibited it to the others.
+
+“Pardon me, Prince,” replied Massingbred, as he filled a glass of
+water and drank it off, “this courtesy I received at the hands of the
+military. I was turning my cab from the Boulevard to enter this street,
+when a hoarse challenge of a sentry, saying I know not what, attracted
+my attention. I drew up short to learn, and then suddenly came a rush
+of the people from behind, which terrified my horse, and set him off at
+speed; the uproar increasing, the affrighted animal dashed madly onward,
+the crowd flying on every side, when suddenly a bullet whizzed past my
+head, cutting my hat in two; a second, at the same instant, struck my
+horse, and killed him on the spot, cab and all rolling over as he fell.
+How I arose, gained my legs, and was swept away by the dense torrent of
+the populace, are events of which I am very far from clear. I only know
+that although the occurrence happened within half an hour ago, it seems
+to _me_ an affair of days since.”
+
+“You were, doubtless, within some line of outposts when first
+challenged,” said the Pole, “and the speed at which you drove was
+believed to be an arranged plan of attack, for you say the mob followed
+you.”
+
+“Very possibly your explanation is the correct one,” said Massingbred,
+coolly; “but I looked for more steadiness and composure from the troops,
+while I certainly did not anticipate so much true courtesy and kindness
+as I met with from the people.”
+
+“Parbleu! here's Massingbred becoming Democrat,” said one. “The next
+thing we shall hear is his defence of a barricade.”
+
+“You'll assuredly not hear that I attacked one in such company as
+inflicted all this upon me,” rejoined he, with an easy smile.
+
+“Here's the man to captivate your 'Belle Irlandaise,' Martin,” cried
+one. “Already is he a hero and a martyr to Royal cruelty.”
+
+“Ah! you came too late to hear that,” said the Pole, in a whisper to
+Massingbred; “but it seems La Henderson became quite a Charlotte Corday
+this evening, and talked more violent Republicanism than has been heard
+in a salon since the days of old Égalité.”
+
+“All lights must be extinguished, gentlemen,” said the waiter, entering
+hastily. “The street is occupied by troops, and you must pass out by the
+Rue de Grenelle.”
+
+“Are the mobs not dispersing, then?” asked the Russian.
+
+“No, your Highness. They have beaten back the troops from the Quai
+Voltaire, and are already advancing on the Louvre.”
+
+“What absurdity!” exclaimed the Pole. “If the troops permit this, there
+is treason amongst them.”
+
+“I can answer for it there is terror, at least,” said Massingbred.
+“All the high daring and spirit is with what you would call the
+Sans-culottes.”
+
+“That a man should talk this way because he has lost a cab-horse!” cried
+the Pole, insolently.
+
+“There are men who can bear the loss of a country with more
+equanimity,--I know that,” whispered Massingbred in his ear, with all
+the calm sternness of an insult.
+
+“You mean this for _me?_” said the Pole, in a low voice.
+
+“Of course I do,” was the answer.
+
+“Where?--when?--how?” muttered the Pole, in suppressed passion.
+
+“I leave all at your disposal,” said Massingbred, smiling at the other's
+effort to control his rage.
+
+“At Versailles,--to-morrow morning,--pistols.”
+
+Massingbred bowed, and turned away. At the same instant the waiter
+entered to say that the house must be cleared at once, or all within it
+consent to remain close prisoners.
+
+“Come along, Martin,” said Massingbred, taking his arm. “I shall want
+you to do me a favor. Let us make our escape by the Rue de Grenelle, and
+I 'll engage to pilot you safely to your own quarters.”
+
+“Has anything passed between you and Czernavitz?” asked Martin, as they
+gained the street.
+
+“A slight exchange of civilities which requires an exchange of shots,”
+ said Jack, calmly.
+
+“By George! I 'm sorry for it. He can hit a franc-piece at thirty
+paces.”
+
+“So can I, Martin; and, what's more, Anatole knows it. He's as brave
+as a lion, and it is my confounded skill has pushed him on to this
+provocation.”
+
+“He 'll shoot you,” muttered Martin, in a half revery.
+
+“Not impossible,” said Massingbred. “He's a fellow who cannot conceal
+his emotions, and will show at once what he means to do.”
+
+“Well, what of that?”
+
+“Simply, that if he intends mischief I shall know it, and send a bullet
+through his heart.”
+
+Little as Martin had seen of Massingbred,--they were but Club
+acquaintances of a few weeks back,--he believed that he was one of those
+smart, versatile men who, with abundance of social ability, acquire
+reputation for higher capacity than they possess; but, above all, he
+never gave him credit for anything like a settled purpose or a stern
+resolution. It was, then, with considerable astonishment that he now
+heard him avow this deadly determination with all the composure that
+could vouch for its sincerity. There was, however, little time to think
+of these things. The course they were driven to follow, by by-streets
+and alleys, necessitated a long and difficult way. The great
+thoroughfares which they crossed at intervals were entirely in the
+possession of the troops, who challenged them as they approached, and
+only suffered them to proceed when well satisfied with their account.
+The crowds had all dispersed, and to the late din and tumult there had
+succeeded the deep silence of a city sunk in sleep, only broken by the
+hoarse call of the sentinels, or the distant tramp of a patrol.
+
+“It is all over, I suppose,” said Martin. “The sight of the
+eight-pounders and the dark caissons has done the work.”
+
+“I don't think so,” said Massingbred, “nor do the troops think so.
+These mobs are not like ours in England, who, with plenty of individual
+courage, are always poltroons in the mass. These fellows understand
+fighting as an art, know how to combine their movements, arrange
+the modes of attack or defence, can measure accurately the means
+of resistance opposed to them, and, above all, understand how to be
+led,--something far more difficult than it seems. In _my_ good borough
+of Oughterard,--or yours, rather, Martin, for I have only a loan of
+it,--a few soldiers--the army, as they would call them--would sweep the
+whole population before them. Our countrymen can get up a row, these
+fellows can accomplish a revolt,--there's the difference.”
+
+“And have they any real, substantial grievance that demands such an
+expiation?”
+
+“Who knows?” said he, laughingly. “There never was a Government too bad
+to live under,--there never was one exempt from great vices. Half the
+political disturbances the world has witnessed have arisen from causes
+remote from State Government; a deficient harvest, a dear loaf, the
+liberty of the Press invaded,--a tyranny always resented by those who
+can't read,--are common causes enough. But here we are now at the Place
+Vendôme, and certainly one should say the odds are against the people.”
+
+Massingbred said truly. Two battalions of infantry, with a battery of
+guns in position, were flanked by four squadrons of Cuirassiers, the
+formidable array filling the entire “Place,” and showing by their air
+and attitude their readiness for any eventuality. A chance acquaintance
+with one of the staff enabled Massingbred and Martin to pass through
+their lines and arrive at their hotel.
+
+“Remember,” said the officer who accompanied them, “that you are close
+prisoners now. My orders are that nobody is to leave the Place under any
+pretext.”
+
+“Why, you can scarcely suspect that the Government has enemies in this
+aristocratic quarter?” said Massingbred, smiling.
+
+“We have them everywhere,” was the brief answer, as he bowed and turned
+away.
+
+“I scarcely see how I'm to keep my appointment at Versailles to-morrow
+morning,” said Massingbred, as he followed Martin up the spacious
+stairs. “Happily, Czernavitz knows me, and will not misinterpret my
+absence.”
+
+“Not to say that he may be unable himself to get there,” said Martin.
+As he spoke, they had reached the door, opening which with his key, the
+Captain motioned to Massingbred to enter.
+
+Massingbred stopped suddenly, and in a voice of deep meaning said, “Your
+father lives here?”
+
+“Yes,--what then?” asked Martin.
+
+“Only that I have no right to pass his threshold,” said the other, in
+a low voice. “I was his guest once, and I 'm not sure that I repaid the
+hospitality as became me. You were away at the time.”
+
+“You allude to that stupid election affair,” said Martin. “I can only
+say that I never did, never could understand it. My only feeling was
+one of gratitude to you for saving me from being member for the
+borough. Come along,” said he, taking his arm; “this is no time for your
+scruples, at all events.”
+
+“No, Martin, I cannot,” said the other. “I 'd rather walk up to one of
+those nine-pounders there than present myself to your lady-mother--”
+
+“But you needn't. You are _my_ guest; these are _my_ quarters. You shall
+see nobody but myself till you leave this. Remember what the Captain
+told us; we are prisoners here.” And without waiting for a reply, Martin
+pushed him before him into the room.
+
+“Two o'clock,” said Massingbred, looking at his watch; “and we are to be
+at Versailles by eight.”
+
+“Well, leave all the care of that to me,” said Martin; “and do you throw
+yourself on the bed there, and take some rest. Without you prefer to sup
+first?”
+
+“No, an hour's sleep is what I stand most in need of; and so I 'll say
+good-night.”
+
+Massingbred said this less that he wanted repose than a brief interval
+to be alone with his own thoughts. And now, as he closed his eyes to
+affect sleep, it was really to commune with his own heart, and reflect
+over what had just occurred.
+
+Independently that he liked Czernavitz personally, he was sorry for a
+quarrel at such a moment. There was a great game about to be played, and
+a mere personal altercation seemed something small and contemptible in
+the face of such events. “What will be said of us,” thought he, “but
+that we were a pair of hot-headed fools, thinking more of a miserable
+interchange of weak sarcasms than of the high destinies of a whole
+nation? And it was _my_ fault,” added he to himself; “I had no right to
+reproach him with a calamity hard enough to bear, even without its
+being a reproach. What a strange thing is life, after all!” thought
+he; “everything of greatest moment that occurs in it the upshot of an
+accident,--my going to Ireland, my visit to the West, my election, my
+meeting with Kate Henderson, and now this duel.” And, so ruminating, he
+dropped off into a sound sleep, undisturbed by sounds that might well
+have broken the heaviest slumber.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VIII. AN EVENING OF ONE OP THE “THREE DAYS”
+
+On the evening which witnessed these events Lady Dorothea's “reception”
+ had been more than usually brilliant. Numbers had come to show of
+how little moment they deemed this “street disturbance,” as they were
+pleased to call it; others, again, were curious to pick up in society
+the opinions formed on what was passing, among whom were several high
+in the favor of the Court and the confidence of the Government. All, as
+they arrived, had some little anecdote or adventure to relate as to the
+difficulties which beset them on the way,--the distances which they were
+obliged to travel, the obstructions and passwords and explanations which
+met them at every turn. These were all narrated in the easy, jocular
+tone of passing trifles, the very inconvenience of which suggested its
+share of amusement.
+
+As the evening wore on, even these became less frequent; the streets
+were already thinning, and, except in some remote, unimportant parts of
+the capital, the troops were in possession of all the thoroughfares. Of
+course, the great topic of conversation was the bold stroke of policy
+then enacting,--a measure which all pronounced wise and just, and
+eminently called for.
+
+To have heard the sentiments then uttered, the disparaging opinions
+expressed of the middle and humbler classes, the hopelessness of ever
+seeing them sufficiently impressed with their own inferiority, the
+adulation bestowed on the monarch and all around him, one might really
+have fancied himself back again at the Tuileries in the time of Louis
+the Fourteenth. All agreed in deeming the occasion an excellent one to
+give the people a salutary lesson; and it was really pleasant to see
+the warm interest taken by these high and distinguished persons in the
+fortunes of their less happy countrymen.
+
+To Lady Dorothea's ears no theme could be more grateful; and she moved
+from group to group, delighted to mingle her congratulations with those
+around, and exchange her hopes and aspirations and wishes with theirs.
+Kate Henderson, upon whom habitually devolved the chief part in these
+“receptions,” was excited and flurried in manner; a more than ordinary
+effort to please being dashed, as it were, by some secret anxiety, and
+the expectation of some coming event. Had there been any one to watch
+her movements, he might have seen the eagerness with which she listened
+to each new account of the state of the capital, and how impatiently
+she drank in the last tidings from the streets; nor less marked was the
+expression of proud scorn upon her features, as she heard the insulting
+estimate of the populace, and the vainglorious confidence in the
+soldiery. But more than all these was her haughty indignation as she
+listened to the confused, mistaken opinions uttered on every side as to
+the policy of the Government and the benevolent intentions of the king.
+Once, and only once, did she forget the prudent resolve she wished to
+impose upon herself; but temper and caution and reserve gave way, as
+she heard a very distinguished person amusing a circle around him by an
+unfair and unfaithful portraiture of the great leaders of '92. It was
+then, when stung by the odious epithet of _canaille_ applied to those
+for whose characters she entertained a deep devotion, that she forgot
+everything, and in a burst of indignant eloquence overwhelmed and
+refuted the speaker. This was the moment, too, in which she replied to
+Villemart by a word of terrible ferocity. Had the red cap of Liberty
+itself been suddenly hoisted in that brilliant assemblage, the dread and
+terror which arose could scarcely have been greater.
+
+“Where are we?” cried the Marquise de Longueville. “I thought we were in
+the Place de Vendôme, and I find myself in the Faubourg St. Antoine!”
+
+“Does my Lady know that her friend and confidante is a Girondist of the
+first water?” said an ex-Minister.
+
+“Who could have suspected the spirit of Marat under the mask of Ninon de
+l'Enclos?” muttered Villemart.
+
+“What is this I hear, dearest Kate?” cried the Duchesse de Mirecourt,
+as she drew the young girl's arm within her own. “They tell me you have
+terrified every one,--that Madame de Soissons has gone home ill, and the
+old Chevalier de Gardonnes has sent for his confessor.”
+
+“I have been very rash, very foolish,” said Kate, as a deadly pallor
+came over her; “but I could bear it no longer. Besides, what does it
+matter? They 'll hear worse, and bear it too, before three days are
+over.”
+
+“Then it is all true?” cried the Duchess, eagerly. “You told Villemart
+that when the Government spoke with grape-shot, the people replied with
+the guillotine!”
+
+“Not exactly,” said Kate, with a faint smile. “But are they all going?”
+
+“Of course they are. You have frightened them almost to death; and I
+know you only meant it for jest,--one of those little half-cruel jests
+you were ever fond of. Come with me and say so,--come, dearest.” And she
+drew her, as she spoke, into the crowded salon, now already a scene of
+excited leave-taking. The brilliant company, however, fell back as they
+came forward, and an expression of mingled dismay and compassion was
+turned towards the young Duchess, who with a kind of heroic courage drew
+Kate's arm closer within her own.
+
+“I am come to make an explanation, messieurs et mesdames,” said the
+Duchess, with her most captivating smile; “pray vouchsafe me a hearing.
+My friend--my dearest, best friend here--has, in a moment of sportive
+pleasantry, suffered herself to jest--”
+
+“It was a jest, then?” broke in Madame de Longueville, haughtily.
+
+“Just as that is,” replied Kate, lifting her hand and pointing in the
+direction whence came a terrible crash of artillery, followed by the
+rattle of musketry.
+
+“Let us go,--let us away!” was now heard in affrighted accents on every
+side; and the splendid assemblage, with less of ceremony than might be
+expected, began to depart. Lady Dorothea alone was ignorant of what had
+occurred, and witnessed this sudden leave-taking with amazement. “You
+are surely not afraid?” said she to one; “there is nothing serious in
+all this.”
+
+“She has told us the reverse, my Lady,” was the reply. “We should be
+compromised to remain longer in her company.”
+
+“Adieu, my Lady. I wish we left you in safer companionship.”
+
+“Farewell, Madame, and pray be warned of your danger,” whispered
+another.
+
+“Your Ladyship may be called upon to acquit debts contracted by another,
+if Mademoiselle continues a member of your family,” said Villemart, as
+he bowed his departure.
+
+“Believe me, Madame, none of us include _you_ in the terrible sentiments
+we have listened to.”
+
+These, and a vast number of similar speeches attended the leave-taking
+of nearly each of her guests, till Lady Dorothea, confused, almost
+stunned by reiterated shocks, sat silently accepting these mysterious
+announcements, and almost imagining herself in all the bewilderment of a
+dream.
+
+Twice she made an effort to ask some explanation, but failed; and it was
+only as the Duchesse de Mirecourt drew nigh to say farewell, that in a
+faint, weak voice she said,--“Can you tell me what all are hinting at,
+or am I only confusing myself with the terrible scenes without?”
+
+“I 'd have prevented it had I been near. I only heard it when too late,
+my Lady,” said the Duchess, sorrowfully.
+
+“Prevented what?--heard what?” cried Lady Dorothea.
+
+“Besides, she has often said as much amongst ourselves; we only laughed,
+as indeed every one would do now, did not events present so formidable
+an aspect.”
+
+“Who is she you speak of? Tell me, I beseech you. What does this mean?”
+
+“I am the culprit, my Lady,” said Kate, approaching with all the
+quiet stateliness of her peculiar manner. “I have routed this gorgeous
+assembly, shocked your most distinguished guests, and horrified all
+whose sentiments breathe loyalty! I am sincerely sorry for my offence;
+and it is a grave one.”
+
+“_You--you_ have dared to do this?”
+
+“Too true, madam,” rejoined Kate.
+
+“How and to whom have you had the insolence--”
+
+She stopped, overcome by passion; and Kate replied,--“To all who pleased
+to listen, my Lady, I have said what doubtless is not often uttered in
+such choice company, but what, if I mistake not greatly, their ears will
+grow familiar with erelong.”
+
+“Nay, nay,” said the Duchess, in a tone of apology, “the matter is not
+so serious as all this. Every one now is terrified. This disturbance,
+the soldiery, the vast crowds that beset the streets, have all produced
+so much excitement that even a few words spoken at random are enough
+to cause fear. It is one of Kate's fancies to terrorize thus over weak
+minds. She has the cruel triumph of not knowing what fear is. In a word,
+it is a mere trifling event, sure to be forgotten in the midst of such
+scenes as we are passing through.”
+
+This attempt at explanation, poured forth with rapid utterance, did not
+produce on Lady Dorothea the conviction it was intended to impose, and
+her Ladyship received the last adieus of the Duchess with a cold and
+stately formality; and then, as the door closed after her, turned to
+Kate Henderson, and said,--“I want _your_ explanation of all this. Let
+me have it.”
+
+“It is easily given, my Lady,” said Kate, calmly. And then, in a voice
+that never trembled nor varied, she narrated briefly the scene which
+had just occurred, not extenuating in the slightest her own share in the
+transaction, or offering a single syllable of excuse.
+
+“And you, being who and what you are, dared thus to outrage the best
+blood of France!” exclaimed Lady Dorothea, trembling all over with
+passion.
+
+“Perhaps, my Lady, if I sought for an apology, it would be in the fact
+of being who and what I am.”
+
+“And do you imagine that after conduct such as this, after exposing me
+to a partnership in the shame that attaches to yourself, that you are
+any longer to enjoy the shelter of my roof?”
+
+“It never occurred to me to think of that, madam,” said Kate, with an
+ill-repressed scorn.
+
+“Then it is for _me_ to remind you of it,” said her Ladyship, sternly.
+“You shall, first of all, write me an humble apology for this vulgar
+tirade, this outrage upon my company, and then you shall leave the
+house. Sit down there, and write as I shall dictate to you.”
+
+Kate seated herself with an air of implicit obedience at a
+writing-table, and took up a pen.
+
+“Write,” cried Lady Dorothea, sternly. “Begin, 'My Lady.' No. 'I
+approach your Ladyship for the last time.' No, not that. 'If the sincere
+sorrow in which I pen these lines.' No. Do it yourself. You best can
+express the shame your heart should feel in such a moment. Let the words
+be your own!”
+
+Kate leaned over the paper and wrote rapidly for a few seconds. Having
+finished, she read over the lines, and seemed to reflect on them.
+
+“Show me that paper!” cried Lady Dorothea, impatiently. But, without
+obeying the command, Kate said,--“Your Ladyship will not be able to
+leave Paris for at least forty hours. By that time the Monarchy will
+have run its course in France. You will probably desire, however, to
+escape from the scenes of turbulence sure to ensue. This will secure you
+a free passage, whichever road you take.”
+
+“What raving is all this?” said Lady Dorothea, snatching the paper
+from her hand, and then reading aloud in French,-- “'The authorities
+are required to aid and tender all assistance in their power to Lady
+Dorothea Martin and all who accompany her, neither giving nor suffering
+any opposition to be given to her or them in the prosecution of their
+journey.'
+
+(Signed) “Jules Lagrange,
+
+“'Minister of Police _ad interim_'
+
+“And this in your own hand, too!” exclaimed Lady Dorothea,
+contemptuously.
+
+“Yes, madam; but it will entitle it to the seal of the Prefecture, and
+entitle _you_ to all that it professes.”
+
+“So that I have the honor to shelter within my walls a chief of this
+insurrection,--if it be worthy of such a name; one in the confidence of
+this stupid _canaille_, who fancy that the fall of a Monarchy is like a
+row in a _guinguette!_”
+
+“Your Ladyship is no longer in a position to question me or arraign
+my actions. Before two days are over, the pageant of a king will have
+passed off the stage, and men of a different stamp take the direction
+of affairs. One of these will be he whose name I have affixed to that
+paper,--not without due warranty to do so. Your Ladyship may or may not
+choose to avail yourself of it.”
+
+“I spurn the imposition,” said Lady Dorothea, tearing it in fragments.
+“So poor a cheat could not deceive _me_. As for yourself--”
+
+“Oh, do not bestow a thought upon _me_, my Lady. I can suffice for my
+own guidance. I only wait for morning to leave this house.”
+
+“And it is to a city in such a state as this you would confide yourself.
+Truly, mademoiselle, Republicanism has a right to be proud of you. You
+are no half-convert to its principles.”
+
+“Am I again to say, my Lady, that your control over me has ceased?”
+
+“It has not. It shall not cease till I have restored you to the humble
+roof from which I took you,” said Lady Dorothea, passionately. “Your
+father is our creature; he has no other subsistence than what we
+condescend to bestow on him. He shall know, when you re-enter his doors,
+why and for what cause you are there. Till that time come, you are, as
+you have been, in my service.”
+
+“No, my Lady, the tie between us is snapped. Dependence is but a sad
+part at the best; but so long as it is coupled with a certain show of
+respect it is bearable. Destroy _that_, and it is mere slavery, abject
+and degrading. I cannot go back to your Ladyship's service.” And she
+gave to the last word an emphasis of intense scorn.
+
+“You must and you shall,” said Lady Dorothea. “If _you_ are forgetful
+of what it is your duty to remember, I am not. Here you shall remain;
+without,” added she, in an accent of supreme contempt, “your counsel and
+direction shall be sought after by the high and mighty individuals who
+are so soon to administer the affairs of this nation.”
+
+The loud roll of a drum, followed by the louder clank of sabres and
+musketry, here startled the speakers; and Kate, hastening to the window,
+opened it, and stepped out upon the balcony. Day was just dawning; a
+gray half-light covered the sky, but the dark shadows of the tall
+houses still stretched over the Place. Here, now, the troops were all in
+motion; a sudden summons having roused them to form in rank. The hasty
+character of the movement showed that some emergency was imminent,--a
+fact confirmed by the frequent arrival and departure of orderlies at
+full speed.
+
+After a brief interval of preparation the infantry formed in column,
+and, followed by the artillery and cavalry, moved out of the Place at
+a quick step. The measured tramp of the foot-soldiers, the clattering
+noise of the train and the dragoons could be heard long after they had
+passed out of sight; and Kate stood listening eagerly as to what would
+come next, when suddenly a man in plain clothes rode hastily from one of
+the side-streets into the centre of the Place. He looked around him for
+a moment or two, and then disappeared. Within a few seconds after, a
+dull, indistinct sound seemed to rise from the ground, which swelled
+gradually louder and louder, and at last grew into the regular footfall
+of a great multitude moving in measured time; and now a vast crowd
+poured into the Place, silent and wordless. On they came from the
+various quarters that opened into the square,--men, for the most part
+clad in blouses or in the coarse garb of laborers. They were armed
+either with musket or sword, and in many instances wore the cross-belt
+of the soldier. They proceeded at once to barricade the square at its
+opening into the Rue de la Paix,--a work which they accomplished with
+astonishing speed and regularity; for, while Kate still looked, a
+formidable rampart was thrown up across the entire street, along which a
+line of armed men was stationed, every one of whom, by his attitude and
+gesture, betrayed the old discipline of a soldier's life. Orders were
+given and obeyed, movements made, and dispositions effected, with
+all the regularity and precision of regular troops; and by the ready
+obedience of all, and the steady attitude observed, it was easy to see
+that these men were trained to arms and to habits of discipline. Not
+less evident was it that they who commanded them were not new to such
+duties. But, more important than all such signs was the fact that here
+and there through the mass might be seen the uniform of a soldier, or
+the epaulette of an officer, showing that desertion to the ranks of the
+people had already begun.
+
+Kate was so occupied in attentive observation of the scene that she had
+not noticed the arrival of another person in the apartment, and whose
+voice now suddenly attracted her. It was Martin himself, hastily aroused
+from his bed by his servant, who in great alarm told him that the
+capital was in open revolt, the king's troops beaten back, and the
+people victorious everywhere. “There 's not a moment to lose,” cried
+he; “we must escape while we can. The road to Versailles is yet in
+possession of the troops, and we can take that way.”
+
+Lady Dorothea, partly overcome by the late scene, partly stunned by the
+repeated shocks she experienced, made no reply whatever; and Martin,
+judging from the expression of her features the anxiety she was
+suffering, hastily added, “Let me see Kate Henderson,--where is she?”
+
+Lady Dorothea merely pointed towards the balcony, but did not utter a
+word.
+
+“Oh, have I found you?” said Martin, stepping out upon the balcony. “You
+see what is doing,--I might say what is done,” added he; “for I believe
+the game is well-nigh decided. Nothing but an overwhelming force will
+now crush this populace. We must get away, and at once. Will you give
+the orders? Send for post-horses; tell them to pack up whatever they
+can,--direct everything, in fact. My Lady is too ill,--too much overcome
+to act, or think of anything. Our whole reliance is upon you.” While he
+was yet uttering these broken, disjointed sentences, he had drawn Kate
+by the arm within the room, and now stood beside Lady Dorothea's chair.
+Her Ladyship raised her head and fixed her eyes upon Kate, who sustained
+the gaze calmly and steadily, nor by the slightest movement displayed
+one touch of any emotion. The glance, at first haughty and defiant,
+seemed at length to grow weaker under the unmoved stare of the young
+girl, and finally she bent down her head and sat as though overcome.
+
+“Come, Dora,” said Martin, kindly, “rouse yourself; you are always equal
+to an effort when necessity presses. Tell Kate here what you wish, and
+she 'll do it.”
+
+“I want no aid,--no assistance, sir. Miss Henderson is her own
+mistress,--she may do what, or go where she pleases.”
+
+Martin made a sign to Kate not to mind what he believed to be the mere
+wandering of an over-excited brain; and then bending down over the
+chair, said, “Dear Dora, we must be active and stirring; the people will
+soon be masters of the capital,--for a while, at least,--and there is no
+saying what excesses they will commit.”
+
+“Do not offend Miss Henderson, sir,” interposed Lady Dorothea; “she has
+equal confidence in their valor and their virtue.”
+
+“What does this mean?--when did she fall into this state?” asked he,
+eagerly. And although only spoken in a whisper, Lady Dorothea overheard
+them, and said,--“Let _her_ tell you. She can give you the very fullest
+explanation.”
+
+“But, Dora, this is no time for trifling; we are here, in the midst of
+an enraged populace and a maddened soldiery. There, listen!--that was
+artillery; and now, hear!--the bells of the churches are sounding the
+alarm.”
+
+“They are ringing the knell of the Monarchy!” said Kate, solemnly.
+
+A hoarse, wild shout--aery like that of enraged wild beasts--arose
+from the Place beneath, and all rushed to the window to see what had
+occurred. It was a charge of heavy cavalry endeavoring to force the
+barricade; and now, vigorously repulsed by the defenders, men and horses
+were rolling on the ground in terrible confusion, while on the barricade
+itself a hand-to-hand conflict was raging.
+
+“Sharp work, by George!” said a voice behind Kate's shoulder. She turned
+and saw Captain Martin, who had just joined them unobserved.
+
+“I thought you many a mile away,” said Kate, in a whisper.
+
+“So I should have been,” replied he, in the same tone, “but I was n't
+going to lose this. I knew it was to come off to-day, and I thought it
+would have been a thousand pities to be absent.”
+
+“And are your wishes, then, with these gallant fellows?” said she,
+eagerly. “Do I hear you aright, that it was to aid them you remained?
+There! see how they bear down on the soldiery; they will not be
+restrained; they are crossing the barricade, and charging with the
+bayonet. It is only for liberty that men can fight thus. Oh that I were
+a man, to be amongst them!”
+
+A stray shot from beneath here struck the architrave above their heads,
+and sent down a mass of plaster over them.
+
+“Come, Dora, this is needless peril,” said Martin, drawing her within
+the room. “If you will not leave this, at least do not expose yourself
+unnecessarily.”
+
+“But it is exactly to get away--to escape while there is time--that I
+came for,” said the Captain. “They tell me that the mob are getting the
+best of it, and, worse again, that the troops are joining them; so,
+to make sure, I 've sent off Fenton to the post for horses, and I 'm
+expecting him every moment. But here he is. Well, have you got the
+horses?”
+
+“No, sir: the horses have all been taken by the people to mount
+orderlies; the postmaster, too, has fled, and everything is in
+confusion. But if we had horses the streets are impassable; from here to
+the Boulevard there are no less than five barricades.”
+
+“Then what is to be done?” cried Martin.
+
+“They say, sir,” replied Fenton, “that by gaining the outer Boulevard on
+foot, carriages and horses are easily found there, to reach Belleville,
+St. Germain, or Versailles.”
+
+“He is right,” said the Captain; “there is nothing else to be done. What
+do _you_ think?” said he, addressing Kate, who stood intently watching
+the movements in the Place beneath.
+
+“Yes; do you agree with this plan?” asked Martin, approaching her.
+
+“Look!” cried she, eagerly, and not heeding the question; “the troops
+are rapidly joining the people,--they come in numbers now,--and yonder
+is an officer in his uniform.”
+
+“Shame on him!” exclaimed Lady Dorothea, indignantly.
+
+“So say I too,” said Kate. “He who wears a livery should not assume the
+port and bearing of a free man. This struggle is for liberty, and should
+only be maintained by the free!”
+
+“How are we to pass these barricades?” cried Martin, anxiously.
+
+“I will be your guide, sir, if that be all,” said Kate. “You may trust
+me. I promise no more than I can perform.”
+
+“She speaks truly,” said Lady Dorothea. “Alas that we should see the day
+when we cannot reject the aid!”
+
+“There is a matter I want to speak to you about,” said Martin,
+drawing his father aside, and speaking in a low, confidential tone.
+“Massingbred--Jack Massingbred--is now here, in my room. I know all
+about my mother's dislike to him, and _he_ knows it; indeed, he has as
+much as owned to me that he deserved it all. But what is to be done? We
+cannot leave him here.”
+
+“How came he to be here?” asked Martin.
+
+“He accompanied me from the Club, where, in an altercation of some sort,
+he had just involved himself in a serious quarrel. He came here to be
+ready to start this morning for Versailles, where the meeting was to
+take place; but indeed he had no thought of accepting shelter under
+our roof; and when he found where he was, it was with the greatest
+difficulty I could persuade him to enter. None of us anticipated such a
+serious turn of affairs as this; and now, of course, a meeting will be
+scarcely possible. What are we to do with him?”
+
+“Ask him frankly to join us if we obtain the horses.”
+
+“But my mother?”
+
+“I 'll speak to her,--but it were better you did it, Harry. These are
+not times to weigh scruples and balance difficulties. I don't myself
+think that Massingbred treated us fairly, but it is not now I 'd like to
+remember it. There, go; tell her what you have told me, and all will be
+well.”
+
+The Captain drew nigh Lady Dorothea, and, leaning over her chair,
+whispered to her for some minutes. At first, a slight gesture of
+impatience burst from her, but afterwards she seemed to hear him calmly
+and tranquilly.
+
+“It would seem as though the humiliations of this night are never to
+have an end,” said she, with a sigh. “But I'll bear my share of them.”
+
+“Remember,” said the other, “that it was by no choice of _his_ he came
+here. His foot was on the threshold before he suspected it.”
+
+“Miss Henderson sent me, my Lady,” said a servant, entering hastily, “to
+say that there is not a minute to be lost. They are expecting an attack
+on the barricade in the Rue de la Paix, and we ought to pass through at
+once.”
+
+“By whose orders?” began she, haughtily; then, checking herself
+suddenly, and in a voice weak and broken, added: “I am ready. Give me
+your arm, Harry, and do not leave me. Where is Mr. Martin?” asked she.
+
+“He is waiting for your Ladyship at the foot of the stairs with another
+gentleman,” said the servant.
+
+“That must be Massingbred, for I told them to call him,” said the
+Captain.
+
+When Lady Dorothea, supported by the arm of her son, had reached
+the gate, she found Martin and Massingbred standing to receive them,
+surrounded by a numerous escort of servants, each loaded with some
+portion of the family baggage.
+
+“A hasty summons, sir,” said she, addressing Massingbred, and thus
+abruptly avoiding the awkwardness of a more ceremonious meeting. “A
+few hours back none of us anticipated anything like this. Will it end
+seriously, think you?”
+
+“There is every prospect of such, madam,” said he, bowing respectfully
+to her salutation. “Every moment brings fresh tidings of defection among
+the troops, while the Marshal is paralyzed by contradictory orders.”
+
+“Is it always to be the fate of monarchy to be badly served in times of
+peril?” said she, bitterly.
+
+“It is very difficult to awaken loyalty against one's convictions of
+right, madam. I mean,” added he, as a gesture of impatience broke from
+her, “that these acts of the king, having no support from his real
+friends, are weak stimulants to evoke deeds of daring and courage.”
+
+“They are unworthy supporters of a Crown who only defend what they
+approve of. This is but Democracy at best, and smacks of the policy
+which has little to lose and everything to gain by times of trouble.”
+
+“And yet, madam, such cannot be the case here; at least, it is assuredly
+not so in the instance of him who is now speaking with Miss Henderson.”
+ And he pointed to a man who, holding the bridle of his horse on his arm,
+walked slowly at Kate's side in the street before the door.
+
+“And who is he?” asked she, eagerly.
+
+“The greatest banker in Paris, madam,--one of the richest capitalists of
+Europe,--ready to resign all his fortune in the struggle against a rule
+which he foresees intended to bring back the days of a worn-out, effete
+monarchy, rather than a system which shall invigorate the nation, and
+enrich it by the arts of commerce and trade.”
+
+“But his name--who is he?” asked she, more impatiently.
+
+“Charles Lagrange, madam.”
+
+“I have heard the name before. I have seen it somewhere lately,” said
+she, trying to remember where and how.
+
+“You could scarcely have paid your respects at Neuilly, madam,
+without seeing him. He was, besides, the favored guest at Madame de
+Mirecourt's.”
+
+“You would not imply, sir, that the Duchess condescended to any sympathy
+with this party?”
+
+“More than half the Court, madam, are against the Crown; I will not say,
+however, that they are, on that account, for the people.”
+
+“There! she is making a sign to us to follow her,” said Martin, pointing
+towards Kate, who, still conversing with her companion, motioned to the
+others to come up.
+
+“It is from that quarter we receive our orders,” said Lady Dorothea,
+sneeringly, as she prepared to follow.
+
+“What has she to do with it?” exclaimed the Captain. “To look at her,
+one would say she was deep in the whole business.”
+
+A second gesture, more urgent than before, now summoned the party to
+make haste.
+
+Through the Place, crowded as it was by an armed and excited multitude,
+way was rapidly made for the little party who now issued from the door
+of the hotel. Kate Henderson walked in front, with Massingbred at her
+side talking eagerly, and by his gestures seeming as though endeavoring
+to extenuate or explain away something in his conduct; next came Lady
+Dorothea, supported between her husband and her son, and while walking
+slowly and with faltering steps, still carrying her head proudly erect,
+and gazing on the stern faces around her with looks of haughty contempt.
+After them were a numerous retinue of servants, with such effects as
+they had got hurriedly together,--a terror-struck set, scarcely able to
+crawl along from fear.
+
+As they drew nigh the barricade, some men proceeded to remove a heavy
+wagon which adjoined a house, and by the speed and activity of their
+movements, urged on as they were by the orders of one in command, it
+might be seen that the operation demanded promptitude.
+
+“We are scarcely safe in this,” cried the officer. “See! they are making
+signs to us from the windows,--the troops are coming. If you pass out
+now, you will be between two fires.”
+
+“There is yet time,” said Kate, eagerly. “Our presence in the street,
+too, will delay them, and give you some minutes to prepare. And as for
+ourselves, we shall gain one of the side-streets easily enough.”
+
+“Tie your handkerchief to your cane, sir,” said the officer to
+Massingbred.
+
+“My flag is ready,” said Jack, gayly; “I only hope they may respect it.”
+
+“Now--now!” cried Kate, with eagerness, and beckoning to Lady Dorothea
+to hasten, “the passage is free, and not a second to be lost!”
+
+“Are you not coming with us?” whispered Martin to her, as they passed
+out.
+
+“Yes; I'll follow. But,” added she, in a lower tone, “were the choice
+given me, it is here I 'd take my stand.”
+
+She looked full at Massingbred as she spoke, and, bending down his head,
+he said, “Had it been your place, it were mine also!”
+
+“Quick,--quick, my Lady,” said Kate. “They must close up the passage at
+once. They are expecting an attack.” And so saying, she motioned rapidly
+to Martin to move on.
+
+“The woman is a fiend,” said Lady Dorothea; “see how her eyes sparkle,
+and mark the wild exultation of her features.”
+
+“Adieu, sir,--adieu!” said Kate, waving her hand to one who seemed the
+chief of the party. “All my wishes are with you. Were I a man, my hand
+should guarantee my heart.”
+
+“Come--come back!” cried the officer. “You are too late. There comes the
+head of the column.”
+
+“No, never--never!” exclamed Lady Dorothea, haughtily; “protection from
+such as these is worse than any death.”
+
+“Give me the flag, then,” cried Kate, snatching it from Massingbred's
+hand, and hastening on before the others. And now the heavy wagon had
+fallen back to its place, and a serried file of muskets peeped over it.
+
+“Where's Massingbred?” asked the Captain, eagerly.
+
+“Yonder,--where he ought to be!” exclaimed Kate, proudly, pointing
+to the barricade, upon which, now, Jack was standing conspicuously, a
+musket on his arm.
+
+The troops in front were not the head of a column, but the advanced
+guard of a force evidently at some distance off, and instead of
+advancing on the barricade, they drew up and halted in triple file
+across the street. Their attitude of silent, stern defiance--for it was
+such--evoked a wild burst of popular fury, and epithets of abuse and
+insult were heaped upon them from windows and parapets.
+
+“They are the famous Twenty-Second of the Line,” said the Captain, “who
+forced the Pont-Neuf yesterday and drove the mob before them.”
+
+“It is fortunate for us that we fall into such hands,” said Lady
+Dorothea, waving her handkerchief as she advanced. But Kate had already
+approached the line, and now halted at a command from the officer. While
+she endeavored to explain how and why they were there, the cries and
+menaces of the populace grew louder and wilder. The officer, a
+very young subaltern, seemed confused and flurried; his eyes turned
+constantly towards the street from which they had advanced, and he
+seemed anxiously expecting the arrival of the regiment.
+
+“I cannot give you a convoy, Mademoiselle,” he said; “I. scarcely know
+if I have the right to let you pass. We may be attacked at any moment;
+for aught I can tell, _you_ may be in the interests of the insurgents--”
+
+“We are cut off, Lieutenant,” cried a sergeant, running up at the
+moment. “They have thrown up a barrier behind us, and it is armed
+already.”
+
+“Lay down your arms, then,” said Kate, “and do not sacrifice your brave
+fellows in a hopeless straggle.”
+
+“Listen not to her, young man, but give heed to your honor and your
+loyalty,” cried Lady Dorothea. “Is it against such an enemy as this
+French soldiers fear to advance?”
+
+“Forward!” cried the officer, waving his sword above his head. “Let
+us carry the barricade!” And a wild yell of defiance from the windows
+repeated the speech in derision.
+
+“You are going to certain death!” cried Kate, throwing herself before
+him. “Let _me_ make terms for you, and they shall not bring dishonor on
+you.”
+
+“Here comes the regiment!” called out the sergeant. “They have forced
+the barricade.” And the quick tramp of a column, as they came at a run,
+now shook the street.
+
+“Remember your cause and your King, sir,” cried Lady Dorothea to the
+officer.
+
+“Bethink you of your country,--of France,--and of Liberty!” said Kate,
+as she grasped his arm.
+
+“Stand back!--back to the houses!” said he, waving his sword.
+“Voltigeurs, to the front!”
+
+The command was scarcely issued, when a hail of balls rattled through
+the air. The defenders of the barricade had opened their fire, and with
+a deadly precision, too, for several fell at the very first discharge.
+
+“Back to the houses!” exclaimed Martin, dragging Lady Dorothea along,
+who, in her eagerness, now forgot all personal danger, and only thought
+of the contest before her.
+
+“Get under cover of the troops,--to the rear!” cried the Captain, as he
+endeavored to bear her away.
+
+“Back--back--beneath the archway!” cried Kate, as, throwing her arms
+around Lady Dorothea, she lifted her fairly from the ground, and carried
+her within the deep recess of a _porte cochère_. Scarcely, however, had
+she deposited her in safety, than she fell tottering backwards and sank
+to the ground.
+
+“Good Heavens! she is struck,” exclaimed Martin, bending over her.
+
+“It is nothing,--a spent shot, and no more,” said Kate, as she showed
+the bullet which had perforated her dress beneath the arm.
+
+“A good soldier, by Jove!” said the Captain, gazing with real admiration
+on the beautiful features before him; the faint smile she wore
+heightening their loveliness, and contrasting happily with their pallor.
+
+“There they go! They are up the barricade already; they are over
+it,--through it!” cried the Captain. “Gallantly done!--gloriously done!
+No, by Jove! they are falling back; the fire is murderous. See how they
+bayonet them. The troops must win. They move together; they are like a
+wall! In vain, in vain; they cannot do it! They are beaten,--they are
+lost!”
+
+“Who are lost?” said Kate, in a half-fainting voice.
+
+“The soldiers. And there 's Massingbred on the top of the
+barricade, in the midst of it all. I see his hat They are driven
+back--beaten--beaten!”
+
+“Come in quickly,” cried a voice from behind; and a small portion of the
+door was opened to admit them. “The soldiers are retiring, and will kill
+all before them.”
+
+“Let _me_ aid you; it is _my_ turn now,” said Lady Dorothea, assisting
+Kate to rise. “Good Heavens! her arm is broken,--it is smashed in two.”
+ And she caught the fainting girl in her arms.
+
+Gathering around, they bore her within the gate, and had but time to bar
+and bolt it when the hurried tramp without, and the wild yell of popular
+triumph, told that the soldiers were retreating, beaten and defeated.
+
+“And this to save me!” said Lady Dorothea, as she stooped over her. And
+the scalding tears dropped one by one on Kate's cheek.
+
+“Tear this handkerchief, and bind it around my arm,” said Kate, calmly;
+“the pain is not very great, and there will be no bleeding, the doctors
+say, from a gun-shot wound.”
+
+“I'll be the surgeon,” said the Captain, addressing himself to the task
+with more of skill than might be expected. “I 've seen many a fellow
+struck down who did n't bear it as calmly,” muttered he, as he bent over
+her. “Am I giving you any pain?”
+
+“Not in the least; and if I were in torture, that glorious cheer outside
+would rally me. Hear!--listen!--the soldiers are in full retreat; the
+people, the noble-hearted people, are the conquerors!”
+
+“Be calm, and think of yourself,” said Lady Dorothea, mildly, to her;
+“such excitement may peril your very life.”
+
+“And it is worth a thousand lives to taste of it,” said she, while her
+cheek flushed, and her dark eyes gleamed with added lustre.
+
+“The street is clear now,” said one of the servants to Martin, “and we
+might reach the Boulevard with ease.”
+
+“Let us go, then,” said Lady Dorothea. “Let us look to _her_ and think
+of nothing till she be cared for.”
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IX. SOME CONFESSIONS OF JACK MASSINGBRED
+
+Upon two several occasions have we committed to Jack Massingbred the
+task of conducting this truthful history; for the third time do we now
+purpose to make his correspondence the link between the past and what is
+to follow. We are not quite sure that the course we thus adopt is free
+from its share of inconvenience, but we take it to avoid the evils of
+reiteration inseparable from following out the same events from merely
+different points of view. There is also another advantage to be gained.
+Jack is before our readers; we are not. Jack is an acquaintance; we
+cannot aspire to that honor. Jack's opinions, right or wrong as they may
+be, are part and parcel of a character already awaiting their verdict.
+What he thought and felt, hoped, feared, or wished, are the materials by
+which he is to be judged; and so we leave his cause in his own hands.
+
+His letter is addressed to the same correspondent to whom he wrote
+before. It is written, too, at different intervals, and in different
+moods of mind. Like the letters of many men who practise concealment
+with the world at large, it is remarkable for great frankness and
+sincerity. He throws away his mask with such evident signs of enjoyment
+that we only wonder if he can ever resume it; but crafty men like to
+relax into candor, as royalty is said to indulge with pleasure in the
+chance moments of pretended equality. It is, at all events, a novel
+sensation; and even that much, in this routine life of ours, is
+something!
+
+He writes from Spa, and after some replies to matters with which we have
+no concern, proceeds thus:--
+
+“Of the Revolution, then, and the Three Glorious Days as they are
+called, I can tell you next to nothing, and for this simple reason,
+that I was there fighting, shouting, throwing up barricades, singing the
+'Marseillaise,' smashing furniture, and shooting my 'Swiss,' like the
+rest. As to who beat the troops, forced the Tuileries, and drove Marmont
+back, you must consult the newspapers. Personal adventures I could give
+you to satiety, hairbreadth 'scapes and acts of heroism by the dozen;
+but these narratives are never new, and always tiresome. The serious
+reflectiveness sounds like humbug, and, if one treats them lightly,
+the flippancy is an offence. Jocular heroism is ever an insult to the
+reader.
+
+“You say, '_Que diable allait-il faire dans cette galère?_' and I
+answer, it was all _her_ doing. Yes, Harry, _she_ was there. I was
+thinking of nothing less in the world than a great 'blow for freedom,'
+as the 'Globe' has it. I had troubled my head wonderfully little about
+the whole affair. Any little interest I took was in the notion that if
+our 'natural enemies,' the French, were to fall to and kill each other,
+there would be so much the fewer left to fight against us; but as to who
+was to get the upper hand, or what they were to do when they had it,
+I gave myself no imaginable concern. I had a vague, shadowy kind of
+impression that the government was a bad one, but I had a much
+stronger conviction that the people deserved no better. My leanings--my
+instincts, if you prefer it--were with the Crown. The mob and its
+sentiments are always repulsive. Popular enthusiasm is a great ocean,
+but it is an ocean of dirty water, and you cannot come out clean from
+the contact; and so I should have wished well to royalty, but for an
+accident,--a mere trifle in its way, but one quite sufficient, even on
+historic grounds, to account for a man's change of opinions. The troops
+shot my cab-horse, sent a bullet through poor 'Beverley,' and seriously
+damaged a new hat which I wore at the time, accompanying these acts with
+expressions the reverse of compliment or civility. I was pitched out
+into the gutter, and, most appropriately you will say, I got up a
+Radical, a Democrat, a Fourierist,--anything, in short, that shouts
+'Down with Kings, and up with the Sovereign People!'
+
+“My principles--don't smile at the word--led me into a stupid
+altercation with a very pleasant acquaintance, and we parted to meet the
+next morning in hostility,--at least, such was our understanding; but by
+the time that our difference should have been settled, _I_ was carried
+away on a stretcher to the Hôtel Dieu, wounded, and he was flung, a
+corpse, into the Seine. I intended to have been a most accurate narrator
+of events, journalizing for you, hour by hour, with all the stirring
+excitement of the present tense, but I cannot; the crash and the hubbub
+are still in my brain, and the infernal chaos of the streets is yet
+over me. Not to speak of my wound,--a very ugly sabre-cut in the
+neck,--severing I don't know what amount of nerves, arteries, and
+such-like 'small deer,' every one of which, however, has its own
+peculiar perils in the shape of aneurisms, tetanus, and so forth, in
+case I am not a miracle of patience, calmness, and composure.
+
+“The Martins are nursing and comforting and chicken-brothing me to my
+heart's content, and La Henderson, herself an invalid, with a terrible
+broken arm, comes and reads to me from time to time. What a girl it is!
+Wounded in a street encounter, she actually carried Lady Dorothea into
+a porte-cochère, and when they had lost their heads in terror, could
+neither issue an order to the servants nor know what way to turn, she
+took the guidance of the whole party, obtained horses and carriages and
+an escort, escaped from Paris, and reached Versailles in the midst of
+flying courtiers and dismayed ministers, and actually was the very first
+to bring the tidings that the game of monarchy was up,--that the king
+had nothing left for it but an inglorious flight. To the Duchesse de
+Mire-court she made this communication, which it seems none of the
+court-followers had the courage or honesty to do before. The Duchess, in
+her terror, actually dragged her into the presence of the king, and made
+her repeat what she had said. The scene, as told me, was quite dramatic;
+the king took her hand to lead her to a seat, but it was unfortunately
+of the wounded arm, and she fainted. The sight of the wounded limb so
+affected the nerves of monarchy that he gave immediate orders to depart,
+and was off within an hour.
+
+“How they found me out a patient in a ward of the Hôtel Dieu, rescued
+and carried me away with them, I have heard full half a dozen times, but
+I 'm far from being clear enough to repeat the story; and, indeed, when
+I try to recall the period, the only images which rise up before me
+are long ranges of white coverlids, pale faces, and groans and cries of
+suffering, with the dark curly head of a great master of torture
+peeping at me, and whom, I am told, is the Baron Dupuytren,
+the Surgeon-in-Chief. After these comes a vision of litters and
+_charrettes_,--sore joltings and stoppages to drink water--But I shall
+rave if I go on. Better I should tell you of my pleasant little bedroom
+here, opening on a small garden, with a tiny fountain trying to sprinkle
+the wild myrtle and blush-roses around it, and sportively sending its
+little plash over me, as the wind wafts it into my chamber. My luxurious
+chair and easy-cushioned sofa, and my table littered with everything,
+from flowers to French romances; not to speak of the small rustic seat
+beside the window, where she has been sitting the last hour, and has
+only quitted to give me time to write this to you. I know it--I see
+it--all you can say, all that you are saying at this moment, is fifty
+times more forcibly echoing within my own heart, and repeating in fitful
+sentences: 'A ruined man--a broken fortune--a mad attachment--a life of
+struggle, difficulty, and failure!' But why should it be failure? Such a
+girl for a wife ought in itself to be an earnest of success. Are not her
+qualities exactly those that do battle with the difficulties of fortune?
+Self-denial--ambition--courage--an intense, an intuitive knowledge of
+the world--and then, a purpose-like devotion to whatever she undertakes,
+that throws an air of heroism over all her actions.
+
+“Birth--blood--family connections--what have they done for me, except it
+be to entail upon me the necessity of selecting a career amidst the
+two or three that are supposed to suit the well-born? I may be a Life
+Guardsman, or an unpaid attaché, but I must not be a physician or a
+merchant. Nor is it alone that certain careers are closed against
+us, but certain opinions too. I must not think ill of the governing
+class,--I must never think well of the governed.
+
+“Well, Harry, the colonies are the remedy for all this. There, at least,
+a man can fashion existence as arbitrarily as he can the shape and
+size of his house. None shall dictate his etiquette, no more than his
+architecture; and I am well weary of the slavery of this old-world life,
+with our worship of old notions and old china, both because they are
+cracked, damaged, and useless. I 'll marry her. I have made up my mind
+on 't. Spare me all your remonstrances, all your mock compassion. Nor
+is it like a fellow who has not seen the world in its best gala suit,
+affecting to despise rank, splendor, and high station. _I have_ seen
+the thing. I have cantered my thoroughbred along Rotten Row, eaten my
+truffled dinners in Belgravia, whispered my nonsense over the white
+shoulders of the fairest and best-born of England's daughters. I know
+to a decimal fraction the value of all these; and, what 's more, I know
+what one pays for them,--the miserable vassalage, the poor slavery of
+mind, soul, and body they cost!
+
+“It is the terror of exclusion here, the dread of coldness there--the
+possibility of offence to 'his Grace' on this side, or misconception by
+'her Ladyship' on that--sway and rule a man so that he may neither eat,
+drink, nor sleep without a 'Court Guide' in his pocket. I 've done with
+it! now and forever,--I tell you frankly,--I return no more to this
+bondage.
+
+“I have written a farewell address to my worthy constituents of
+Oughterard. I have told them that, 'feeling an instinct of independence
+within me, I can no longer remain their representative; that, as a man
+of honor, I shrink from the jobbery of the little borough politicians,
+and, as a gentleman, I beg to decline their intimacy.' They took me for
+want of a better--I leave them for the same reason.
+
+“To my father I have said: 'Let us make a compromise. As your son I
+have a claim on the House. Now, what will you give for my share? I 'll
+neither importune you for place, nor embarrass you with solicitations
+for employment. Help me to stock my knapsack, and I 'll find my road
+myself.' _She_ knows nothing of these steps on my part; nor shall she,
+till they have become irrevocable. She is too proud ever to consent to
+what would cost me thus heavily; but the expense once incurred,--the
+outlay made,--she cannot object to what has become the law of my future
+life.
+
+“I send off these two documents to-night; this done, I shall write to
+her an offer of marriage. What a fever I 'm in! and all because I feel
+the necessity of defending myself to _you_,--to you of all men the most
+headstrong, reckless, and self-indulgent,--a fellow who never curbed a
+caprice nor restrained a passing fancy; and yet you are just the man
+to light your cigar, and while you puff away your blue cloud, mutter on
+about rashness, folly, insanity, and the rest of it, as if the state of
+your bank account should make that wisdom in _you_, which with _me_ is
+but mere madness! But I tell you, Harry, it is your very thousands per
+annum that preclude you from doing what I can. It is your house in town,
+your stud at Tattersall's, your yacht at Cowes, your grouse-lodge in the
+Highlands, that tie and fetter you to live like some scores of others,
+with whom you have n't one solitary sympathy, save in income! You are
+bound up in all the recognizances of your wealth to dine stupidly, sup
+languidly, and sink down at last into a marriage of convenience,--to
+make a wife of her whom 'her Grace' has chosen for you without a single
+speculation in the contract save the thought of the earl you will be
+allied to, and the four noble families you 'll have the right to go in
+mourning for.
+
+“And what worse than cant it is to talk of what they call an indiscreet
+match! What does--what can the world know as to the reasons that impel
+you, or me, or anybody else, to form a certain attachment? Are they
+acquainted with our secret and most hidden emotions? Do they understand
+the project of life we have planned to ourselves? Have they read our
+utter weariness and contempt for forms that _they_ venerate, and social
+distinctions that _they_ worship? I am aware that in some cases it
+requires courage to do this; and in doing it a man virtually throws down
+the glove to the whole world, and says, 'This woman's love is to me more
+than all of you'--and so say I at this moment. I must cry halt, I see,
+Harry. I have set these nerves at work in my wound, and the pain is
+agony. Tomorrow--to-night, if I 'm able--I shall continue.
+
+“Midnight.” They have just wished me good-night, after having spent the
+evening here reading out the newspapers for me, commenting upon them,
+and exerting themselves to amuse me in a hundred good-natured ways. You
+would like this same stately old Lady Dorothea. She is really 'Grande
+Dame' in every respect,--dress, air, carriage, gesture, even her slow
+and measured speech is imposing, and her prejudices, uttered as they are
+in such perfect sincerity of heart, have something touching about them,
+and her sorrowful pity for the mob sounded more gracefully than Kate's
+enthusiastic estimate of their high deservings. It does go terribly
+against the grain to fancy an alliance between coarse natures and noble
+sentiments, and to believe in the native nobility of those who never
+touch soap! I have had a kind of skirmish with La Henderson upon this
+theme to-night. She was cross and out of temper, and bore my bantering
+badly. The fact is, she is utterly disgusted at the turn things have
+taken in France; and not altogether without reason, since, after all
+their bluster and bloodshed and barricades, they have gone back to a
+monarchy again. They barred out the master to make 'the head usher' top
+of the school. Let us see if he won't be as fond of the birch as his
+predecessor. Like all mutineers, they found they could n't steer the
+ship when they had murdered the captain! How hopeless it makes one of
+humanity to see such a spectacle as this, Harry, and how low is one's
+estimate of the species after such experience! You meet some half-dozen
+semi-bald, spectacled old gentlemen in society, somewhat more reserved
+than the rest of the company, fond of talking to each other, and rather
+distrustful of strangers; you find them slow conversers at dinner, sorry
+whist-players in the drawing-room; you are told, however, that one is a
+President of the Council, another the Secretary for Foreign Affairs,
+and a third something equally important. You venerate them
+accordingly, while you mutter the old Swede's apothegm about the 'small
+intelligences' that rule mankind. Wait awhile! There is a row in the
+streets: a pickpocket has appealed to the public to rescue him from the
+ignoble hands of the police; an escaped felon has fired at the judge who
+sentenced him, in the name of Liberty and Fraternity. No matter what
+the cause, there _is_ a row. The troops are called out; some
+are beaten, some join the insurgents. The government grows
+frightened--temporizes--offers terms--and sends for more soldiers.
+The people--I never clearly knew what the word meant--the people
+make extravagant demands, and will not even give time to have them
+granted,--in a word, the whole state is subverted, the king, if there
+be one, in flight, the royal family missing, the ministers nowhere! No
+great loss you 'll say, if the four or five smooth-faced imbecilities
+we have spoken of are not to the fore! But there is your error,
+Harry,--your great error. These men, used to conduct and carry on
+the government, cannot be replaced. The new capacities do nothing but
+blunder, and maybe issue contradictory orders and impede each other's
+actions. To improvise a Secretary of State is about as wise a proceeding
+as to take at hazard a third-class passenger and set him to guide the
+engine of a train. The only difference is that the machinery of state
+is ten thousand times more complex than that of a steam-engine, and the
+powers for mischief and misfortune in due proportion.
+
+“But why talk of these things? I have had enough and too much of them
+already this evening; women, too, are unpleasant disputants in politics.
+They attach their faith to persons, not parties. Miss Henderson is,
+besides, a little spoiled by the notice of those maxim-mongers who write
+leaders in the 'Débats, and articles for the 'Deux Mondes.' They
+have, or affect to have, a kind of pitying estimate for our English
+constitutional forms, which is rather offensive. At least, she provoked
+me, and I am relapsing into bad temper, just by thinking of it.
+
+“You tell me that you once served with Captain Martin, and I see you
+understand him; not that it requires much study to do so. You say he was
+reckoned a good officer; what a sneer is that on the art military!
+
+“There are, however, many suitable qualities about him, and he certainly
+possesses the true and distinctive element of a gentleman,--he knows how
+to be idle. Ay, Harry, that is a privilege that your retired banker
+or enriched cotton-spinner never attains to. They must be up and
+doing,--where there is nothing to do. They carry the spirit of the
+counting-house and the loom into society with them, and having found
+a pleasure in business, they want to make a business of pleasure. Now,
+Martin understands idling to perfection. His tea and toast, his mutton
+cutlet, and his mustachios are abundant occupation for him. With
+luncheon about two o'clock, he saunters through the stables, sucking a
+lighted cigar, filing his nails, and admiring his boots, till it 's time
+to ride out. He comes to me about nine of an evening, and we play piquet
+till I get sleepy; after which he goes to 'the rooms,' and, I believe,
+plays high; at least, I suspect so; for he has, at times, the forced
+calm--that semi-jocular resignation--one sees in a heavy loser. He has
+been occasionally, too, probing me about Merl,--you remember the fellow
+who had the rooms near Knightsbridge,--so that I opine he has been
+dabbling in loans. What a sorry spectacle such a creature as this in the
+toils of the Israelite, for he is the 'softest of the soft.' I see it
+from the effect La Henderson has produced upon him. He is in love with
+her,--actually in love. He even wanted to make me his confidant--and I
+narrowly escaped the confession--only yesterday evening. Of course, he
+has no suspicion of my attachment in the same quarter, so that it would
+be downright treachery in me to listen to his avowal. Another feeling,
+too, sways me, Harry,--I don't think I could hear a man profess
+admiration for the woman that I mean to marry, without the self-same
+sense of resentment I should experience were I already her husband. I 'm
+certain I 'd shoot him for it.
+
+“La belle Kate and I parted coldly--dryly, I should call it--this
+evening. I had fancied she was above coquetry, but she is not. Is
+any woman? She certainly gave the Captain what the world would
+call encouragement all the night; listened attentively to tiresome
+tiger-huntings and stories of the new country; questioned him about his
+Mahratta campaigns, and even hinted at how much she would like an Indian
+life. Perhaps the torment she was inflicting on Lady Dorothea amused
+her; perhaps it was the irritation she witnessed in me gave the zest to
+this pastime. It is seldom that she condescends to be either amused or
+amusing; and I own it is a part does not suit her. She is a thousand
+times more attractive sitting over her embroidery-frame, raising
+her head at times to say a few words,--ever apposite and well
+chosen,--always simple, too, and to the purpose; or even by a slight
+gesture bearing agreement with what is said around her; till, with a
+sudden impulse, she pours forth fast, rapidly, and fluently some glowing
+sentiment of praise or censure, some glorious eulogy of the good, or
+some withering depreciation of the wrong. Then it is that you see
+how dark those eyes can be, how deep-toned that voice, and with what
+delicacy of expression she can mould and fashion every mood of mind, and
+give utterance to sentiments that till then none have ever known how to
+embody.
+
+“It is such a descent to her to play coquette! Cleopatra cannot--should
+not be an Abigail. I am low and depressed to-night; I scarcely know
+why: indeed, I have less reason than usual for heavy-heartedness. These
+people are singularly kind and attentive to me, and seem to have totally
+forgotten how ungratefully once before I repaid their civilities. What
+a stupid mistake do we commit in not separating our public life from our
+social one, so as to show that our opinions upon measures of state
+are disconnected with all the sentiments we maintain for our private
+friendships. I detect a hundred sympathies, inconceivable points of
+contact, between these people and myself. We pass hours praising the
+same things, and abusing the same people; and how could it possibly
+sever our relations that I would endow Maynooth when they would pull it
+down, or that I liked forty-shilling freeholders better than ten-pound
+householders? You 'll say that a certain earnestness accompanies strong
+convictions, and that when a man is deeply impressed with some supposed
+truths, he 'll not measure his reprobation of those who assail them.
+But a lawyer does all this, and forfeits nothing of the esteem of 'his
+learned brother on the opposite side.' Nay, they exchange very-ugly
+knocks at times, and inflict very unseemly marks even with the gloves
+on; still they go homeward, arm-in-arm, after, and laugh heartily at
+both plaintiff and defendant. By Jove! Harry, it may sound ill, but
+somehow it seems as though to secure even a moderate share of enjoyment
+in this life one must throne Expediency in the seat of Principle. I 'll
+add the conclusion to-morrow, and now say good-night.
+
+“Three days have passed over since I wrote the last time to you, and
+it would require as many weeks were I to chronicle all that has passed
+through my mind in the interval. Events there have been few; but
+sensations--emotions, enough for a lifetime. Nor dare I recall them!
+Faintly endeavoring to trace a few broken memories, my pains of mind and
+body come back again, so that you must bear with me if I be incoherent,
+almost unintelligible.
+
+“The day after I wrote to you, I never saw her. My Lady, who came as
+usual to visit me in the day, said something about Miss Henderson having
+a headache. Unpleasant letters from her family--obliged to give up
+the day to answering them; but all so confused and with such evident
+constraint as to show me that something disagreeable loomed in view.
+
+“The Captain dropped in about four o'clock, and as the weather was
+unfavorable, we sat down to our party of piquet. By a little address,
+I continued to lose nearly every game, and so gradually led him into a
+conversation while we played; but I soon saw that he only knew something
+had occurred 'upstairs,' but knew not what.
+
+“' I suspect, however,' added he, 'it is only the old question as to
+Kate's going away.' “'Going away! Going where?' cried I.
+
+“'Home to her father; she is resolutely bent upon it,--has been so ever
+since we left Paris. My mother, who evidently--but on what score I know
+not--had some serious difference with her, is now most eager to make
+concessions, and would stoop to--what for her is no trifle--even
+solicitation to induce her to stay, has utterly failed; so, too, has
+my father. Persuasion and entreaty not succeeding, I suspect--but it is
+only suspicion--that they have had recourse to parental authority,
+and asked old Henderson to interfere. At least, a letter has come this
+morning from the West of Ireland, for Kate, which I surmise to be in his
+hand. She gave it, immediately on reading it, to my mother, and I could
+detect in her Ladyship's face, while she perused it, unmistakable
+signs of satisfaction. When she handed it back, too, she gave a certain
+condescending smile, which, in my mother, implies victory, and seems
+to say, “Let us be friends now,--I 'm going to signal--cease firing.”'
+
+“'And Kate, did she make any remark--say anything?' “'Not a syllable.
+She folded up the document, carefully and steadily, and placed it in
+her work-box, and then resumed her embroidery in silence. I watched her
+narrowly, while I affected to read the paper, and saw that she had to
+rip out half she had done. After a while my mother said,--“'”You 'll not
+answer that letter to-day, probably?”
+
+“'“I mean to do so, my Lady,” said she; “and, with your permission, will
+beg you to read my reply.”
+
+“'“Very well,” said my mother, and left the room. I was standing outside
+on the balcony at the time, so that Kate believed, after my mother's
+departure, she was quite alone. It was then she opened the letter, and
+re-read it carefully. I never took my eyes off her; and yet what was
+passing in her mind, whether joy, grief, disappointment, or pleasure,
+I defy any man to declare; nor when, having laid it down once more, she
+took up her work, not a line or a lineament betrayed her. It was plain
+enough the letter was no pleasant one, and I expected to have heard her
+sigh perhaps, or at least show some sign of depression; but no, she
+went on calmly, and at last began to sing, in a low, faint voice, barely
+audible where I stood, one of her little barcarole songs she is so fond
+of; and if there was no sorrow in her own heart, by Jove! she made mine
+throb heavily as I listened! I stood it as long as I was able, and then
+coughed to show that I was there, and entered the room. She never lifted
+her head, or noticed me, not even when I drew a chair close to her, and
+sat down at her side.
+
+“'I suppose, Massingbred,' said he, after a pause, 'you 'll laugh at
+me, if I tell you I was in love with the Governess! Well, I should have
+laughed too, some six months ago, if any man had prophesied it; but
+the way I put the matter to myself is this: If I do succeed to a
+good estate, I have a right to indulge my own fancy in a wife; if I
+don't,--that is, if I be a ruined man,--where 's the harm in marrying
+beneath me?'
+
+“'Quite right, admirably argued,' said I, impatiently; 'go on.'
+
+“'I 'm glad you agree with me,' said he, with the stupid satisfaction of
+imbecility. 'I thought I had reduced the question to its very narrowest
+bounds.'
+
+“'So you have; go on,' cried I.
+
+“'“Miss Henderson,” said I,--for I determined to show that I was
+speaking seriously, and so I did n't call her Kate,-- “Miss Henderson, I
+want to speak to you. I have been long seeking this opportunity; and if
+you will vouchsafe me a few minutes now, and hear me, on a subject upon
+which all my happiness in life depends--”
+
+“'When I got that far, she put her work down on her knee, and stared at
+me with those large, full eyes of hers so steadily--ay, so haughtily,
+too--that I half wished myself fifty miles away.
+
+“'“Captain Martin,” said she, in a low, distinct voice, “has it ever
+occurred to you in life to have, by a mere moment of reflection, a
+sudden flash of intelligence, saved yourself from some step, some act,
+which, if accomplished, had brought nothing but outrage to your feeling,
+and insult to your self-esteem? Let such now rescue you from resuming
+this theme.”
+
+“'“But you# don't understand me,” said I. “What I wish to say--” Just at
+that instant my father came into the room in search of her, and I made
+my escape to hide the confusion that I felt ready to overwhelm me.'
+
+“'And have you not seen her since?'
+
+“'No. Indeed, I think it quite as well, too. She 'll have time to think
+over what I said, and see what a deuced good offer it is; for though I
+know she was going to make objections about inequality of station and
+all that at the time, reflection will bring better thoughts.'
+
+“'And she 'll consent, you think?'
+
+“'I wish I had a bet on it,' said he.
+
+“'So you shall, then,' said I, endeavoring to seem thoroughly at my
+ease. 'It's a very unworthy occasion for a wager, Martin; but I'll lay
+five hundred to one she refuses you.'
+
+“'Taken, and booked,' cried he, writing it down in his note-book. “I
+only regret it is not in thousands.'
+
+“'So it should be, if I could honestly stake what I have n't got.'
+
+“'You are so sanguine of winning? '
+
+“' So certain, you ought to say.'
+
+“' Of course you use no influence against me,--you take no step of any
+kind to affect her decision.'
+
+“'Certainly not.'
+
+“'Nor are you--But,' added he, laughing, 'I need n't make that proviso.
+I was going to say, you are not to ask her yourself.'
+
+“'I 'll even promise you that, if you like,' said I.
+
+“'Then what can you mean?' said he, with a puzzled look. 'But whatever
+it be, I can stand the loss. I 've won very close to double as much from
+you this evening.'
+
+“'And as to the disappointment?'
+
+“'Oh, _you_ 'll not mention it, I 'm certain, neither will she, so none
+will be the wiser; and, after all, the real bore in all these cases is
+the gossip.' And with this consolatory reflection he left me to dress
+for dinner. How well bred a fellow seems who has no feeling, but just
+tact enough to detect the tone of the world and follow it! That's
+Martin's case, and his manners are perfect! After he was gone, I
+was miserable for not having quarrelled with him,--said something
+outrageous, insolent, and unbearable. That he should have dared to
+insult the young girl by such presumption as the offer of _his_ hand
+is really too much. What difference of station--wide as the poles
+asunder--could compare with their real inequality? The fop, the idler,
+the incompetent, to aspire to _her!_ Even his very narrative proclaimed
+his mean nature, wandering on, as it did, from a lounge on the balcony
+to an offer of marriage!
+
+“Now, to conclude this wearisome story--and I fancy, Harry, that already
+you half deem me a fitting rival for the tiresome Captain,--but to
+finish, Martin came early into my room, and laying a bank-note for £100
+on the bed, merely added, 'You were right; there's your money.' I'd have
+given double the sum to hear the details of this affair,--in what terms
+the refusal was conveyed,--on what grounds she based it; but he would
+not afford me the slightest satisfaction on any of these points. Indeed,
+he displayed more vigor of character than I suspected in him, in the way
+he arrested my inquiries. He left this for Paris immediately after, so
+that the mystery of that interview will doubtless remain impenetrable to
+me.
+
+“We are all at sixes and sevens to-day. Old Martin, shocked by some
+tidings of Ireland that he chanced upon in the public papers, I believe,
+has had a stroke of paralysis, or a seizure resembling that malady.
+Lady Dorothea is quite helpless from terror, and but for Kate, the whole
+household would be in utter chaos and disorganization; but she goes
+about, with her arm in a sling, calm and tranquil, but with the energy
+and activity of one who feels that all depends upon her guidance and
+direction. The servants obey her with a promptitude that proclaims
+instinct; and even the doctor lays aside the mysterious jargon of
+his craft, and condescends to talk sense to her. I have not seen her;
+passing rumors only reach me in my solitude, and I sit here writing and
+brooding alternately.
+
+“P. S. Martin is a little better; no immediate danger to life, but
+slight hopes of ultimate recovery. I was wrong as to the cause. It was a
+proclamation of outlawry against his son, the Captain, which he read in
+the 'Times.' Some implacable creditor or other had pushed his claim so
+far, as I believe is easy enough to do nowadays; and poor Martin, who
+connected this stigma with all the disgrace that once accompanied such a
+sentence, fell senseless to the ground, and was taken up palsied. He is
+perfectly collected and even tranquil now, and they wheeled me in to sit
+with him for an hour or so. Lady Dorothea behaves admirably; the first
+shock overwhelmed her, but that passed off, and she is now all that
+could be imagined of tenderness and zeal.
+
+“Kate I saw but for a second. She asked me to write to Captain Martin,
+and request him to hasten home. It was no time to trifle with her; so I
+simply promised to do so, adding,--“'_You,_ I trust, will not leave this
+at such a moment?'
+
+“'Assuredly not,' said she, slightly coloring at what implied my
+knowledge of her plans.
+
+“'Then all will go on well in that case,' said I.
+
+“'I never knew that I was reckoned what people call lucky,' said she,
+smiling. 'Indeed, most of those with whom I have been associated in life
+might say the opposite.' And then, without waiting to hear me, she left
+the room.
+
+“My brain is throbbing and my cheeks burning; some feverish access is
+upon me. So I send off this ere I grow worse.
+
+“Your faithful friend,
+
+“Jack Massingbred.”
+
+
+
+CHAPTER X. HOW ROGUES AGREE!
+
+Leaving the Martins in their quiet retreat at Spa, nor dwelling any
+longer on a life whose daily monotony was unbroken by an incident,
+we once more turn our glance westward. Were we assured that our kind
+readers' sympathies were with us, the change would be a pleasure to us,
+since it is there, in that wild mountain tract, that pathless region of
+fern and wild furze, that we love to linger, rambling half listlessly
+through silent glens and shady gorges, or sitting pensively on the
+storm-lashed shore, till sea and sky melt into one, and naught lowers
+through the gloom save the tall crags above us.
+
+We are once more back again at the little watering-place of Kilkieran,
+to which we introduced our readers in an early chapter of this
+narrative; but another change has come over that humble locality.
+The Osprey's Nest, the ornamented villa, on which her Ladyship had
+squandered so lavishly good money and bad taste, was now an inn! A
+vulgar sign-board, representing a small boat in a heavy sea, hung over
+the door, with the words “The Corragh” written underneath. The spacious
+saloon, whose bay-windows opened on the Atlantic, was now a coffee-room,
+and the small boudoir that adjoined it--desecration of desecrations--the
+bar!
+
+It needs not to have been the friend or favored guest beneath a roof
+where elegance and refinement have prevailed to feel the shock at
+seeing them replaced by all that ministers to coarse pleasure and
+vulgar association. The merest stranger cannot but experience a sense of
+disgust at the contrast. Whichever way you turned, some object met the
+eye recalling past splendor and present degradation; indeed, Toby Shea,
+the landlord, seemed to feel as one of his brightest prerogatives the
+right of insulting the memory of his predecessors, and throwing into
+stronger antithesis the “former” and the “now.”
+
+“Here ye are now, sir, in my Lady's own parlor; and that's her bedroom,
+where I left your trunk,” said he, as he ushered in a newly arrived
+traveller, whose wet and road-stained drapery bore traces of an Irish
+winter's day. “Mr. Scanlan told me that your honor would be here at four
+o'clock, and he ordered dinner for two, at five, and a good dinner you
+'ll have.”
+
+“There; let them open my traps, and fetch me a pair of slippers and a
+dressing-gown,” broke in the traveller; “and be sure to have a good fire
+in my bedroom. What an infernal climate! It has rained since the day
+I landed at Dublin; and now that I have come down here, it has blown a
+hurricane besides. And how cold this room is!” added he, shuddering.
+
+“That's all by reason of them windows,” said Toby,--“French windows they
+call them; but I'll get real Irish sashes put up next season, if I live.
+It was a fancy of that ould woman that built the place to have nothing
+that was n't foreign.”
+
+“They are not popular, then,--the Martins?” asked the stranger.
+
+“Popular!” echoed Toby. “Begorra, they are not. Why would they be? Is it
+rack-renting, process sarving, extirminating, would make them popular?
+Sure we're all ruined on the estate. There isn't a mother's son of
+us might n't be in jail; and it's not Maurice's fault, either,--Mr.
+Scanlan's, I mean. Your honor's a friend of his, I believe,” added he,
+stealthily. The stranger gave a short nod. “Sure he only does what he's
+ordered; and it's breaking his heart it is to do them cruel things they
+force him to.”
+
+“Was the management of the estate better when they lived at home?” asked
+the stranger.
+
+“Some say yes, more says no. I never was their tenant myself, for I
+lived in Oughterard, and kept the 'Goose and Griddle' in John Street;
+but I believe, if the truth was told, it was always pretty much the
+same. They were azy and moderate when they did n't want money, but ready
+to take your skin off your back when they were hard up.”
+
+“And is that their present condition?”
+
+“I think it is,” said he, with a confident grin. “They 're spending
+thousands for hundreds since they went abroad; and that chap in the
+dragoons--the Captain they call him--sells a farm, or a plot of ground,
+just the way ye 'd tear a leaf out of a book. There 's Mr. Maurice
+now,--and I 'll go and hurry the dinner, for he 'll give us no peace if
+we 're a minute late.”
+
+The stranger--or, to give him his proper name, Mr. Merl--now approached
+the window, and watched, not without admiration, the skilful management
+by which Scanlan skimmed along the strand, zigzagging his smart nag
+through all the awkward impediments of the way, and wending his tandem
+through what appeared a labyrinth of confusion.
+
+Men bred and born in great cities are somewhat prone to fancy that
+certain accomplishments, such as tandem-driving, steeple-chasing, and
+such like, are the exclusive acquirements of rank and station. They have
+only witnessed them as the gifts of guardsmen and “young squires of high
+degree,” never suspecting that in the country a very inferior class
+is often endowed with these skilful arts. Mr. Merl felt, therefore, no
+ordinary reverence for Maurice Scanlan, a sentiment fully reciprocated
+by the attorney, as he beheld the gorgeous dressing-gown, rich tasselled
+cap, and Turkish trousers of the other.
+
+“I thought I'd arrive before you, sir,” said Scanlan, with a profound
+bow, as he entered the room; “but I'm glad you got in first. What a
+shower that was!”
+
+“Shower!” said Merl; “a West India hurricane is a zephyr to it. I 'd not
+live in this climate if you 'd give me the whole Martin estate!”
+
+“I 'm sure of it, sir; one must be bred in the place, and know no
+better, to stand it.” And although the speech was uttered in all
+humility, Merl gave the speaker a searching glance, as though to say,
+“Don't lose your time trying to humbug me; I'm 'York,' too.” Indeed,
+there was species of freemasonry in the looks that now passed between
+the two; each seemed instinctively to feel that he was in the presence
+of an equal, and that artifice and deceit might be laid aside for the
+nonce.
+
+“I hope you agree with me,” said Scanlan, in a lower and more
+confidential voice, “that this was the best place to come to. Here you
+can stay as long as you like, and nobody the wiser; but in the town
+of Oughterard they'd be at you morning, noon, and night, tracking your
+steps, questioning the waiter, ay, and maybe taking a peep at your
+letters. I 've known that same before now.”
+
+“Well, I suppose you 're right; only this place does look a little dull,
+I confess.”
+
+“It's not the season, to be sure,” said Scanlan, apologetically.
+
+“Oh! and there is a season here?”
+
+“Isn't there, by George!” said Maurice, smacking his lips. “I 've seen
+two heifers killed here of a morning, and not so much as a beefsteak
+to be got before twelve o'clock. 'T is the height of fashion comes down
+here in July,--the Rams of Kiltimmon, and the Bodkins of Crossmaglin;
+and there was talk last year of a lord,--I forget his name; but he ran
+away from Newmarket, and the story went that he was making for this.”
+
+“Any play?” asked Merl.
+
+“Play is it? That there is; whist every night, and backgammon.”
+
+Merl threw up his eyebrows with pretty much the same feeling with which
+the Great Napoleon repeated the words “Bows and Arrows!” as the weapons
+of a force that offered him alliance.
+
+“If you'd allow me to dine in this trim, Mr. Scanlan,” said he, “I'd ask
+you to order dinner.”
+
+“I was only waiting for you to give the word, sir,” said Maurice,
+reverting to the habit of respect at any fresh display of the other's
+pretensions; and opening the door, he gave a shrill whistle.
+
+The landlord himself answered the summons, and whispered a few words in
+Scanlan's ear.
+
+“That's it, always,” cried Maurice, angrily. “I never came into the
+house for the last ten days without hearing the same story. I 'd like to
+know who and what he is, that must always have the best that 's going?”
+ Then turning to Merl, he added: “It's a lodger he has upstairs; an old
+fellow that came about a fortnight back; and if there's a fine fish or a
+fat turkey or a good saddle of mutton to be got, he 'll have it.”
+
+“Faix, he pays well,” said Toby, “whoever he is.”
+
+“And he has secured our salmon, I find, and left us to dine on whiting,”
+ said Maurice.
+
+“An eighteen-pound fish!” echoed Toby; “and it would be as much as my
+life is worth to cut it in two.”
+
+“And he's alone, too?”
+
+“No, sir. Mr. Crow, the painter, is to dine with him. He's making
+drawings for him of all the wonderful places down the coast.”
+
+“Well, give us what we 're to have at once,” said Maurice, angrily. “The
+basket of wine was taken out of the gig?”
+
+“Yes, sir; all right and ready for you; and barrin' the fish you 'll
+have an elegant dinner.”
+
+This little annoyance over, the guests relished their fare like hungry
+men; nor, time and place considered, was it to be despised.
+
+“Digestion is a great leveller.” Mr. Merl and Mr. Scan-Ian felt far more
+on an equality when, the dinner over and the door closed, they drew
+the table close to the fire, and drank to each other in a glass of racy
+port.
+
+“Well, I believe a man might live here, after all,” said Merl, as he
+gazed admiringly on the bright hues of his variegated lower garments.
+
+“I 'm proud to hear you say so,” said Scanlan; “for, of course, you've
+seen a deal of life; and when I say life, I mean fashion and high
+style,--nobs and swells.”
+
+“Yes; I believe I have,” said Merl, lighting his cigar; “that was always
+my 'line.' I fancy there's few fellows going have more experience of the
+really great world than Herman Merl.”
+
+“And you like it?” asked Maurice, confidentially.
+
+“I do, and I do not,” said the Jew, hesitatingly. “To one like myself,
+who knows them all, always on terms of close intimacy,--friendship, I
+may say,--it 's all very well; but take a new hand just launched into
+life, a fellow not of their own set,--why, sir, there 's no name for the
+insults and outrage he'll meet with.”
+
+“But what could they do?” asked Scanlan, inquiringly.
+
+“What?--anything, everything; laugh at him, live on him, win his last
+guinea,--and then, blackball him!”
+
+“And could n't he get a crack at them?”
+
+“A what?”
+
+“Couldn't he have a shot at some of them, at least?” asked Maurice.
+
+“No, no,” said Mr. Merl, half contemptuously; “they don't do _that_.”
+
+“Faix! and we 'd do it down here,” said Scanlan, “devil may care who or
+what he was that tried the game.”
+
+“But I 'm speaking of London and Paris; I 'm not alluding to the
+Sandwich Islands,” said Merl, on whose brain the port and the strong
+fire were already producing their effects.
+
+Scanlan's face flushed angrily; but a glance at the other checked the
+reply he was about to make, and he merely pushed the decanter across the
+table.
+
+“You see, sir,” said Merl, in the tone of a man laying down a great
+dictum, “there 's worlds and worlds. There's Claude Willoughby's world,
+which is young Martin's and Stanhope's and mine. There, we are all young
+fellows of fortune, good family, good prospects, you understand,--no,
+thank you, no more wine;--I feel that what I 've taken has got into my
+head; and this cigar, too, is none of the best. Would it be taking too
+great a liberty with you if I were to snatch a ten minutes' doze,--just
+ten minutes?”
+
+“Treat me like an old friend; make yourself quite at home,” said
+Maurice. “There 's enough here”--and he pointed to the bottles on the
+table--“to keep me company; and I 'll wake you up when I 've finished
+them.”
+
+Mr. Merl made no reply; but drawing a chair for his legs, and disposing
+his drapery gracefully around him, he closed his eyes, and before
+Maurice had replenished his glass, gave audible evidence of a sound
+sleep.
+
+Now, worthy reader, we practise no deceptions with you; nor so far as
+we are able, do we allow others to do so. It is but fair, therefore, to
+tell you that Mr. Merl was not asleep, nor had he any tendency whatever
+to slumber about him. That astute gentleman, however, had detected that
+the port was, with the addition of a great fire, too much for him; he
+recognized in himself certain indications of confusion that implied
+wandering and uncertain faculties, and he resolved to arrest the
+progress of such symptoms by a little repose. He felt, in short, that if
+he had been engaged in play, that he should have at once “cut out,” and
+so he resolved to give himself the advantage of the prerogative
+which attaches to a tired traveller. There he lay, then, with closed
+eyes,--breathing heavily,--to all appearance sound asleep.
+
+Maurice Scanlan, meanwhile, scanned the recumbent figure before him with
+the eye of a connoisseur. We have once before said that Mr. Scanlan's
+jockey experiences had marvellously aided his worldly craft, and that
+he scrutinized those with whom he came in contact through life, with all
+the shrewd acumen he would have bestowed upon a horse whose purchase he
+meditated. It was easy to see that the investigation puzzled him. Mr.
+Merl did not belong to any one category he had ever seen before. Maurice
+was acquainted with various ranks and conditions of men; but here was a
+new order, not referable to any known class. He opened Captain Martin's
+letter, which he carried in his pocket-book, and re-read it; but it
+was vague and uninstructive. He merely requested that “every attention
+might be paid to his friend Mr. Merl, who wanted to see something of
+the West, and know all about the condition of the people, and such like.
+He's up to everything, Master Maurice,” continued the writer, “and
+so just the man for _you_.” There was little to be gleaned from this
+source, and so he felt, as he folded and replaced the epistle in his
+pocket.
+
+“What can he be,” thought Scanlan, “and what brings him down here? Is he
+a member of Parliament, that wants to make himself up about Ireland and
+Irish grievances? Is he a money-lender, that wants to see the security
+before he makes a loan? Are they thinking of him for the agency?”--and
+Maurice flushed as the suspicion crossed him,--“or is it after Miss Mary
+he is?” And a sudden paleness covered his face at the thought. “I 'd
+give a cool hundred, this minute, if I could read you,” said he to
+himself, “Ay, and I'd not ask any one's help how to deal with us
+afterwards,” added he, as he drained off his glass. While he was thus
+ruminating, a gentle tap was heard at the door, and, anxious not to
+disturb the sleeper, Scanlan crossed the room with noiseless steps, and
+opened it.
+
+[Illustration: 124]
+
+“Oh, it's you, Simmy,” said he, in a low voice. “Come in, and make no
+noise; he's asleep.”
+
+“And that's him!” said Crow, standing still to gaze on the recumbent
+figure before him, which he scrutinized with all an artist's
+appreciation.
+
+“Ay, and what do you think of him?” whispered Scanlan.
+
+“That chap is a Jew,” said Sim, in the same cautious tone. “I know
+the features well; you see the very image of him in the old Venetian
+pictures. Whenever they wanted cunning and cruelty--but more cunning
+than cruelty--they always took that type.”
+
+“I would n't wonder if you were right, Simmy,” said Scanlan, on whom a
+new light was breaking.
+
+“I know I am; look at the spread of the nostrils, and the thick, full
+lips, and the coarse, projecting under-jaw. Faix!” said he to himself,
+“I 've seen the day I 'd like to have had a study of your face.”
+
+“Indeed!” said Scanlan.
+
+“Just so; he'd make a great Judas!” said Crow, enthusiastically. “It
+is the miser all over. You know,” added he, “if one took him in the
+historical way, you 'd get rid of the vulgarity, and make him grander
+and finer; for, looking at him now, he might be a dog-stealer.”
+
+Scanlan gave a low, cautious laugh as he placed a chair beside his own
+for the artist, and filled out for him a bumper of port.
+
+“I was just dying for a glass of this,” said Crow. “I dined with Mr.
+Barry upstairs; and though he's a fine-hearted old fellow in many
+respects, he's too abstemious; a pint of sherry for two at dinner, and a
+pint of port after, that's the allowance. Throw out as many hints as you
+like, suggest how and what you will, but devil a drop more you'll get.”
+
+“And who is he?” asked Scanlan.
+
+“I wish you could tell me,” said Crow.
+
+“You haven't a notion; nor what he is?”
+
+“Not the slightest. I think, indeed, he said he was in the army; but
+I'm not clear it wasn't a commissary or a surgeon; maybe he was, but
+he knows a little about everything. Take him on naval matters, and he
+understands them well; ask him about foreign countries,--egad, he was
+everywhere. Ireland seems the only place new to him, and it won't be
+so long; for he goes among the people, and talks to them, and hears
+all they have to say, with a patience that breaks my heart. Like all
+strangers, he's astonished with the acuteness he meets with, and never
+ceases saying, 'Ain't they a wonderful people? Who ever saw their equal
+for intelligence?'”
+
+“Bother!” said Scanlan, contemptuously.
+
+“But it is not bother! Maurice; he's right. They are just what he says.”
+
+“Arrah! don't be humbugging _me_, Mr. Crow,” said the other. “They 're
+a set of scheming, plotting vagabonds, that are unmanageable by any one,
+except a fellow that has the key to them as I have.”
+
+“_You_ know them, that's true,” said Crow, half apologetically, for he
+liked the port, and did not feel he ought to push contradiction too far.
+
+“And that's more than your friend Barry does, or ever will,” said
+Scanlan. “I defy an Englishman--I don't care how shrewd he is--to
+understand Paddy.”
+
+A slight movement on Mr. Merl's part here admonished the speaker to
+speak lower.
+
+“Ay,” continued Maurice, “that fellow there--whoever he is or whatever
+he is--is no fool! he 's deep enough; and yet there 's not a bare-legged
+gossoon on the estate I won't back to take him in.”
+
+“But Barry's another kind of man entirely. You wouldn't call him cute or
+cunning; but he's a sensible, well-judging man, that has seen a deal of
+life.”
+
+“And what is it, he says, brings him here?” asked Scanlan.
+
+“He never said a word about that yet,” replied Crow, “further than his
+desire to visit a country he had heard much of, and, if I understand him
+aright, where some of his ancestors came from; for, you see, at times
+he's not so easy for one to follow, for he has a kind of a foreign twang
+in his tongue, and often mumbles to himself in a strange language.”
+
+“I mistrust all these fellows that go about the world, pretending they
+want to see this and observe that,” said Scanlan, sententiously.
+
+“It's mighty hard to mistrust a man that gives you the likes of that,”
+ said Crow, as he drew a neatly folded banknote from his pocket, and
+handed it to Scanlan. “Twenty pounds! And he gave you that?” “This very
+evening. 'It is a little more than our bargain, Mr. Crow,' said he, 'but
+not more than I can afford to give; and so I hope you 'll not refuse
+it.' These were his words, as he took my lot of drawings--poor daubs
+they were--and placed them in his portfolio.”
+
+“So that he is rich?” said Maurice, pensively, “There seems no end of
+his money; there's not a day goes over he does n't spend fifteen or
+sixteen pounds in meat, potatoes, barley, and the like. Sure, you may
+say he 's been feeding the two islands himself for the last fortnight;
+and what's more, one must n't as much as allude to it. He gets angry at
+the slightest word that can bring the subject forward. It was the other
+day he said to myself, 'If you can relieve destitution without too much
+parade of its sufferings, you are not only obviating the vulgar display
+of rich benevolence, but you are inculcating high sentiments and
+delicacy of feeling in those that are relieved. Take care how you
+pauperize the heart of a people, for you 'll have to make a workhouse of
+the nation.'”
+
+“Sure, they're paupers already!” exclaimed Scanlan, contemptuously.
+“When I hear all these elegant sentiments uttered about Ireland, I know
+a man is an ass! This is a poor country,--the people is poor, the gentry
+is poor, the climate is n't the best, and bad as it is, you 're never
+sure of it. All that anybody can hope to do is to make his living out
+of it; but as to improving it,--raising the intellectual standard of the
+people, and all that balderdash we hear of,--you might just as well tell
+me that there was an Act of Parliament to make everybody in Connaught
+six feet high. Nature says one thing, and it signifies mighty little if
+the House of Commons says the other.”
+
+“And you 're telling me this in the very spot that contradicts every
+word you say!” cried Crow, half angrily; for the port had given him
+courage, and the decanter waxed low.
+
+“How so?” exclaimed Scanlan.
+
+“Here, where we sit--on this very estate of Cro' Martin--where a young
+girl--a child the other day--has done more to raise the condition of
+the people, to educate and civilize, than the last six generations
+together.”
+
+A long wailing whistle from Scanlan was the insulting reply to the
+assertion.
+
+“What do you mean by that?” cried Crow, passionately.
+
+“I mean that she has done more mischief to the property than
+five-and-forty years' good management will ever repair, Now don't be
+angry, Simmy; keep your temper, and draw your chair back again to the
+table. I 'm not going to say one word against her intentions; but when
+I see the waste of thousands of pounds on useless improvements, elegant
+roads that lead nowhere, bridges that nobody will ever pass, and harbors
+without boats, not to say the habits of dependence the people have got
+by finding everything done for them. I tell you again, ten years more of
+Miss Mary's rule will finish the estate.”
+
+[Illustration: 130]
+
+“I don't believe a word of it!” blurted out Simmy, boldly. “I saw her
+yesterday coming out of a cabin, where she passed above an hour, nursing
+typhus fever and cholera. The cloak she took off the door--for she left
+it there to dry--was still soaked with rain; her wet hair hung down her
+shoulders, and as she stood bridling her own pony,--for there was not a
+living soul to help her--”
+
+“She 'd have made an elegant picture,” broke in Scanlan, with a laugh.
+“But that's exactly the fault of us in Ireland,--we are all picturesque;
+I wish we were prosperous! But come, Simmy, finish your wine; it's not
+worth disputing about. If all I hear about matters be true, there will
+be very little left of Cro' Martin when the debts are paid.”
+
+“What! do you mean to say that they 're in difficulty?”
+
+“Far worse; the stories that reach me call it--ruin!”
+
+Simmy drew his chair closer to the table, and in a whisper scarcely
+breathed, said, “That chap's not asleep, Maurice.”
+
+“I know it,” whispered the other; and added, aloud, “Many a fellow that
+thinks he has the first charge on the property will soon discover his
+mistake; there are mortgages of more than eighty years' standing on the
+estate. You've had a great sleep, sir,” said he, addressing Merl, who
+now yawned and opened his eyes; “I hope our talking did n't disturb
+you?”
+
+“Not in the least,” said Merl, rising and stretching his legs. “I'm all
+right now, and quite fresh for anything.”
+
+“Let me introduce Mr. Crow to you, sir,--a native artist that we 're all
+proud of.”
+
+“That's exactly what you are not then,” said Crow; “nor would you be if
+I deserved it. You 'd rather gain a cause at the Quarter Sessions, or
+take in a friend about a horse, than be the man that painted the Madonna
+at Florence.”
+
+“He's cross this evening,--cross and ill-humored,” said Scanlan,
+laughing. “Maybe he 'll be better tempered when we have tea.”
+
+“I was just going to ask for it,” said Merl, as he arranged his
+whiskers, and performed a small impromptu toilet before the glass, while
+Simmy issued forth to give the necessary orders.
+
+“We 'll have tea, and a rubber of dummy afterwards,” said Scanlan, “if
+you've no objection.”
+
+“Whatever you like,--I 'm quite at your disposal,” replied Merl, who now
+seated himself with an air of bland amiability, ready, according to the
+amount of the stake, to win pounds or lose sixpences.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XI. MR. MERL “AT FENCE”
+
+All the projects which Mr. Scanlan had struck out for Merl's occupation
+on the following day were marred by the unfavorable weather. It blew
+fiercely from the westward, driving upon shore a tremendous sea, and
+sending white masses of drift and foam far inland. The rain, too, came
+down in torrents. The low-lying clouds, which scarcely reached more than
+half-way up the mountain sides, seemed as if rent asunder at times,
+and from them came a deluge, filling all the watercourses, and swelling
+rivulets to the size of mighty torrents. The unceasing roll of thunder,
+now near, now rumbling along in distant volleys, swelled the wild
+uproar, and helped to make up a scene of grand but desolate meaning.
+
+What could well be drearier than that little line of cabins that formed
+the village of Kilkieran, as with strongly barricaded doors, and
+with roofs secured by ropes and spars, they stood exposed to the full
+violence of the wild Atlantic! Not a man, not a living thing was to be
+seen. The fishermen were all within doors, cowering in gloomy indolence
+over the scanty turf fires, and brooding darkly on the coming winter.
+
+With a thorough conviction of all the dreariness of this scene, Mr.
+Merl stood at the window and looked out. He had been all his life too
+actively engaged in his pursuits of one kind or other to know much about
+what is called “being bored.” Let rain fall ever so heavily, a cab could
+take him down to “'Change,”--the worst weather never marred a sale of
+stock, and Consols could rise even while the mercury was falling. The
+business-life of a great city seems to care little for weather, and
+possibly they whose intent faculties are bent on gain, scarcely remember
+whether the sun shines upon their labors.
+
+Merl felt differently now; the scene before him was wilder and gloomier
+than anything he had ever beheld. Beyond and behind the village steep
+mountains rose on every side, of barren and rugged surface,--not a
+vestige of any culture to be seen; while on the road, which led along a
+narrow gorge, nothing moved. All was dreary and deserted.
+
+“I suppose you'll keep the roof over you to-day, Mr. Merl?” said
+Scanlan, as he entered the room, buttoned up to the chin in a coarse
+frieze coat, while his head was protected by a genuine “sou'-wester” of
+oilskin.
+
+“And are _you_ going out in such weather?” asked Merl.
+
+“'Needs must,' sir, as the proverb says. I have to be at the assizes
+at Oughterard this morning, to prosecute some scoundrels for cutting
+brambles in the wood; and I want to serve notices on a townland about
+eight miles from this; and then I 'll have to go round by Cro' Martin
+and see Miss Mary. That's not the worst of it,” added he, with an
+impudent leer, “for she's a fine girl, and has the prettiest eyes in the
+kingdom.”
+
+“I have a letter for her,” said Merl,--“a letter of introduction from
+Captain Martin. I suppose I might as well send it by you, and ask if I
+might pay my respects to-morrow or next day?”
+
+“To be sure; I'll take it with pleasure. You'll like her when you see
+her. She's not a bit like the rest: no pride, no stand-off,--that
+is, when she takes a fancy; but she is full of life and courage for
+anything.”
+
+“Ah, yes,--the Captain said we should get on very well together,”
+ drawled out Merl.
+
+“Did he, though!” cried Scanlan, eagerly. Then as suddenly checking
+his anxiety, he added: “But what does _he_ know about Miss Mary? Surely
+they're as good as strangers to each other. And for the matter of that,
+even when he was here, they did n't take to each other,--she was always
+laughing at the way he rode.”
+
+“Wasn't he in the dragoons?” asked Merl, in a half-rebutting tone.
+
+“So he was; but what does that signify? Sure it's not a cavalry seat,
+with your head down and your elbows squared, will teach you to cross
+country,--at least, with Mary Martin beside you. You'll see her one of
+these day yourself, Mr. Merl. May I never, if you don't see her now!”
+ cried Scanlan, suddenly, as he pointed to the road along which a horse
+was seen coming at speed, the rider breasting the storm fearlessly, and
+only crouching to the saddle as the gusts swept past. “What in the name
+of all that's wonderful brings her here?” cried Maurice. “She wasn't
+down at Kilkieran for four months.”
+
+“She'll stop at this inn here, I suppose?” said Merl who was already
+performing an imaginary toilet for her visit.
+
+“You may take your oath she'll not!” said Scanlan half roughly; “she
+'d not cross the threshold of it! She 's going to some cabin or other.
+There she goes,--is n't that riding?” cried he, in animation. “Did you
+ever see a horse held neater? And see how she picks the road for him!
+Easy as she's sitting, she 'd take a four-foot wall this minute, without
+stirring in her saddle.”
+
+“She hasn't got a nice day for pleasuring!” said the Jew, with a vulgar
+cackle.
+
+“If ye call it pleasure,” rejoined Scanlan, “what she's after; but I
+suspect there's somebody sick down at the end of the village. There, I
+'m right; she's pulling up at Mat Landy's,--I wonder if it's old Mat is
+bad.”
+
+“You know him?” asked Merl.
+
+“To be sure I do. He 's known down the coast for forty miles. He
+saved more men from shipwreck himself than everybody in the barony put
+together; but his heart is all but broke about a granddaughter that ran
+away. Sure enough, she's going in there.”
+
+“Did you see Miss Mary?” cried Crow, entering suddenly. “She's just gone
+down the beach. They say there's a case now down there.”
+
+“A case--of what?” said Merl.
+
+“Cholera or typhus, as it may be,” said Crow, not a little surprised at
+the unmistakable terror of the other's face.
+
+“And she's gone to see it!” exclaimed the Jew.
+
+“To do more than see it. She 'll nurse the sick man, and bring him
+medicine and whatever he wants.”
+
+“And not afraid?”
+
+“Afraid!” broke in Crow. “I'd like to know what she's afraid of. Ask Mr.
+Scanlan what would frighten her.” But Mr. Scanlan had already slipped
+noiselessly from the room, and was already on his way down the shore.
+
+“Well,” said Merl, lighting his cigar, and drawing an arm-chair close
+to the fire, “I don't see the advantage of all that. She could send
+the doctor, I suppose, and make her servants take down to these people
+whatever she wanted to send them. What especial utility there is in
+going herself, I can't perceive.”
+
+“I'll tell you, then,” said Crow. “It's more likely the doctor is busy
+this minute, ten or fifteen miles away,--for the whole country is down
+in sickness; but even if he was n't, if it were not for her courage in
+going everywhere, braving danger and death every hour, there would be
+a general flight of all that could escape. They'd rush into the
+towns,--where already there's more sickness than they know how to deal
+with. She encourages some,--she shames more; and not a few are proud
+to be brave in such company, for she is an angel,--that's her name,--an
+angel.”
+
+“Well, I should like to see her,” drawled out Merl, as he smoothed down
+his scrubby mustachios.
+
+“Nothing easier, then,” rejoined Crow. “Put on your coat and hat, and we
+'ll stroll down the beach till she comes out; it can't be very long, for
+she has enough on her hands elsewhere.”
+
+The proposition of a “stroll” in such weather was very little to Mr.
+Merl's taste; but his curiosity was stronger than even his fear of a
+drenching, and having muffled and shawled himself as if for an Arctic
+winter, they set out together from the inn.
+
+“And you tell me,” said he, “that the Martins used to live
+here,--actually pass their lives in this atrocious climate?”
+
+“That they did,--and the worst mistake they ever made was to leave it,”
+ said Crow.
+
+“I confess you puzzle me,” said Merl.
+
+“Very possibly I do, sir,” was the calm reply; “but you'd have
+understood me at once had you known this country while they resided at
+Cro' Martin. It was n't only that the superfluities of their wealth ran
+over, and filled the cup of the poor man, but there was a sense of hope
+cherished, by seeing that however hard the times, however adverse the
+season, there was always 'his Honor,' as they called Mr. Martin, whom
+they could appeal to for aid or for lenient treatment.”
+
+“Very strange, very odd, all this,” said Merl, musing. “But all that I
+hear of Ireland represents the people as if in a continual struggle for
+mere existence, and actually in a daily state of dependence on the will
+of somebody above them.”
+
+“And if that same condition were never to be exaggerated into downright
+want, or pushed to an actual slavery, we could be very happy with it,”
+ said Crow, “and not thank you, or any other Englishman that came here,
+to disturb it.”
+
+“I assure you I have no ambition to indulge in any such interference,”
+ said Merl, with a half-contemptuous laugh.
+
+“And so you're not thinking of settling in Ireland?” asked Crow, in some
+surprise.
+
+“Never dreamed of it!”
+
+“Well, the story goes that you wanted to buy an estate, and came down to
+have a look at this property here.”
+
+“I'd not live on it if Martin were to make me a present of it
+to-morrow.”
+
+“I don't think he will,” said Crow, gravely. “I am afraid he could n't,
+if he wished it.”
+
+“What, do you mean on account of the entail?” asked Merl.
+
+“Not exactly.” He paused, and after some silence said, “If the truth
+were told, there's a great deal of debt on this property,--more than any
+one suspects.”
+
+“The Captain's encumbrances?” asked Merl, eagerly.
+
+“His grandfather's and his great-grandfather's! As for the present man,
+they say that he's tied up some way not to sell, except for the sake of
+redeeming some of the mortgages. But who knows what is true and what is
+false about all this?”
+
+Merl was silent; grave fears were crossing his mind how far his claims
+were valid; and terrible misgivings shot across him lest the Captain
+might have been paying him with valueless securities.
+
+“I gather from what you say,” said he, at last, “that it would be rather
+difficult to make out a title for any purchaser of this estate.”
+
+“Don't be afraid of that, sir. They'll make you out a fair title.”
+
+“I tell you again, I'd not take it as a present,” said Merl, half
+angrily.
+
+“I see,” said Crow, nodding his head sententiously. And then fixing his
+eyes steadily on him, he said, “You are a mortgagee.”
+
+Merl reddened,--partly anger, partly shame. Indeed, the feeling that
+such a capacity as Mr. Crow's should have pushed him hard, was anything
+but complimentary to his self-esteem.
+
+“I don't want to pry into any man's affairs,” said Crow, easily. “Heaven
+knows it's mighty little matter to Simmy Crow who lives in the big house
+there. I 'd rather, if I had my choice, be able to walk the wood with my
+sketch-book and brushes than be the richest man that ever was heartsore
+with the cares of wealth.”
+
+“And if a friend--a sincere, well-wishing friend--were to bind himself
+that you should enjoy this same happiness you speak of, Mr. Crow, what
+would you do in return?”
+
+“Anything he asked me,--anything, at least, that a fair man could ask,
+and an honest one could do.”
+
+“There's my hand on it, then,” said Merl. “It's a bargain.”
+
+“Ay, but let us hear the conditions,” said Crow. “What could I possibly
+serve you in, that would be worth this price?”
+
+“Simply this: that you'll answer all my inquiries, so far as you know
+about this estate; and where your knowledge fails, that you'll endeavor
+to obtain the information for me.”
+
+“Maybe I could tell you nothing at all--or next to nothing,” said Crow.
+“Just ask me, now, what's the kind of question you 'd put; for, to tell
+truth, I 'm not over bright or clever,--the best of me is when I've a
+canvas before me.”
+
+Merl peered stealthily at the speaker over the great folds of the shawl
+that enveloped his throat; he was not without his misgivings that the
+artist was a “deep fellow,” assuming a manner of simplicity to draw him
+into a confidence. “And yet,” he thought, “had he really been shrewd
+and cunning, he 'd never have blurted out his suspicion as to my being
+a mortgagee. Besides,” said he to himself, “there, and with that fact,
+must end all his knowledge of me.” “You can dine with me to-day, Mr.
+Crow, can't you?”
+
+“I 'm engaged to the stranger in No. 4,--the man I'm making the drawings
+for.”
+
+“But you could get off. You could ask him to excuse you by saying that
+something of importance required you elsewhere?”
+
+“And dine in the room underneath?” asked Crow, with a comical look of
+distress at this suggestion.
+
+“Well, let us go somewhere else. Is there no other inn in the
+neighborhood?”
+
+“There's a small public-house near the gate of Cro' Martin, to be sure.”
+
+“Then we'll dine there. I'll order a chaise at four o'clock, and we 'll
+drive over together. And now, I 'll just return to the house, for this
+wading here is not much to my taste.”
+
+Mr. Merl returned gloomily to the house, his mind too deeply occupied
+with his own immediate interests to bestow any thought upon Mary Martin.
+The weather assuredly offered but little inducement to linger out of
+doors, for, as the morning wore on, the rain and wind increased in
+violence, while vast masses of mist swept over the sea and were carried
+on shore, leaving only, at intervals, little patches of the village to
+be seen,--dreary, storm-beaten, and desolate! Merl shuddered, as he cast
+one last look at this sad-colored picture, and entered the inn.
+
+Has it ever been your ill-fortune, good reader, to find yourself alone
+in some dreary, unfrequented spot, the weather-bound denizen of a sorry
+inn, without books or newspapers, thrown upon the resources of your own
+thoughts, so sure to take their color from the dreary scene around them?
+It is a trying ordeal for the best of tempers. Your man of business
+chafes and frets against the inactivity; your man of leisure sorrows
+over monotony that makes idleness a penalty. He whose thoroughfare in
+life is the pursuit of wealth thinks of all those more fortunate than
+himself then hurrying on to gain, while he who is the mark of the
+world's flatteries and attentions laments over the dismal desolation of
+an uncompanionable existence.
+
+If Mr. Merl did not exactly occupy any one of these categories, he
+fancied, at least, that he oscillated amidst them all. It was, indeed,
+his good pleasure to imagine himself a “man upon town,” who played a
+little, discounted a little, dealt a little in old pictures, old china,
+old cabinets, and old plate, but all for mere pastime,--something, as he
+would say, “to give him an interest in it;” and there, certainly, he was
+right. Nothing so surely imparted an “interest” in Mr. Merl's eyes as
+having an investment. Objects of art, the greatest triumphs of genius,
+landscape the richest eye ever ranged over, political events that would
+have awakened a sense of patriotism in the dullest and coldest, all came
+before him as simple questions of profit and loss.
+
+If he was not actually a philosopher, some of his views of life were
+characterized by great shrewdness. He had remarked, for instance, that
+the changeful fashions of the world are ever alternating; and that not
+only dress and costume and social customs undergo mutations, but that
+objects of positive sterling value are liable to the same wayward
+influences. We are all modern to-day, to-morrow we may be “Louis
+Quatorze,” the next day “Cinque Centi” in our tastes. Now we are
+mad after Italian art, yesterday the Dutch school was in vogue. Our
+galleries, our libraries, our houses, our gardens, all feel the caprices
+of these passing moods. There was but one thing that Mr. Merl had
+perceived never changed, and that was the estimation men felt for money.
+Religions might decay, and states crumble, thrones totter, and kings be
+exiled, Cuyps might be depreciated and marquetry be held in mean esteem;
+but gold was always within a fraction at least of four pounds eleven
+shillings the ounce!
+
+He remarked, too, that men gradually grow tired of almost everything;
+the pursuits of the young are not those of the middle-aged, still less
+of advanced life. The books which we once cried over are now thrown down
+with languor; the society we imagined perfection we now smile at for its
+very absurdities. We see vulgarity where we once beheld vigor; we detect
+exaggeration where we used to attribute power. There is only one theme
+of which our estimation never varies,--wealth! Mr. Merl had never yet
+met the man nor the woman who really despised it; nay, he had seen kings
+trafficking on 'Change. He had known great ministers deep speculators
+on the Bourse; valiant admirals, distinguished generals, learned judges,
+and even divines, had bought and sold with him, all eager in the pursuit
+of gain, and all employing, to the best of their ability, the high
+faculties of their intelligence to assist them in making crafty
+bargains.
+
+If these experiences taught him the universal veneration men feel
+for wealth, they also conveyed another lesson, which was, the extreme
+gullibility of mankind. He met every day men who ruled cabinets and
+commanded fleets,--the reputed great of the earth,--and saw them easier
+victims in his hand than the commonest capacity in “Leadenhall Street.”
+ They had the earliest information, but could not profit by it; they
+never understood the temper on 'Change, knew nothing of the variations
+of the money-barometer, and invariably fell into snares that your city
+man never incurred. Hence Mr. Merl came to conceive a very low general
+opinion of what he himself called “the swells,” and a very high one of
+Herman Merl.
+
+If we have dwelt upon these traits of this interesting individual in
+this place, it is simply to place before our reader's mind the kind
+of lucubrations such a man might be disposed to indulge in. In fact,
+story-tellers like ourselves have very little pretension to go beyond
+the narrow limit; and having given to the reader the traits of a
+character, they must leave their secret working more or less to his
+ingenuity. So much, however, we are at liberty to declare, that Mr. Merl
+was terribly bored, and made no scruple of confessing it.
+
+“What the deuce are you staring at? Is there anything really to be seen
+in that confounded dreary sea?” cried he, as Crow stood shading his eyes
+from the lightning flashes, and intently gazing on the scene without.
+
+“That's one of the effects Backhuysen was so fond of!” exclaimed Crow,
+eagerly,--“a sullen sea, lead-colored and cold, with a white curl just
+crisping the top of the waves, over it a dreary expanse of dark sky,
+low-lying and black, till you come near the horizon, where there is a
+faint line of grayish white, just enough to show that you are on the
+wide, wide ocean, out of sight of land, and nothing living near, except
+that solitary sea-gull perched upon the breakers there. There's real
+poetry in a bit like that; it sets one a thinking over the desolation of
+those whose life is little better than a voyage on such a sea!”
+
+“Better be drowned at once,” broke in Merl, impatiently.
+
+Crow started and looked at him; and had Merl but seen that glance, so
+scornful and contemptuous was it, even his self-esteem might have felt
+outraged. But he had not remarked it; and as little did he guess what
+was then passing in the poor artist's mind, as Crow muttered to himself,
+“I know one that will not be your guest to-day, if he dines on a cold
+potato, or does n't dine at all.”
+
+“Did I tell you,” cried he, suddenly, “that there's no horses to be
+had?”
+
+“No horses!” exclaimed Merl; “how so?”
+
+“There's a great trial going on at the assizes to-day, and Mr. Barry is
+gone on to Oughterard to hear it, and he has the only pair of posters in
+the place.”
+
+“What a confounded hole!” burst out Merl, passionately. “That I ever
+should have set my foot in it! How are we to get through the day here?
+Have you thought of anything to be done?”
+
+“_I'll_ go down and find out how poor Landy is,” said Crow; “for Miss
+Mary's horse is still at the door, and he must be very bad, indeed, or
+she wouldn't delay so long.”
+
+“And what if it should turn out the cholera, or typhus, or something as
+bad?”
+
+“Well?” said Crow, interrogatively; for he could not guess the drift of
+the suggestion.
+
+“Simply this, my worthy friend,” resumed Merl,--“that I have no fancy
+for the pleasure of your company at dinner after such an excursion as
+you speak of.”
+
+“I was just going to say that myself,” said Crow. “Good-bye!” And before
+Merl could interpose a word, he was gone.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XII. MR. MERL'S MEDITATIONS.
+
+Our last chapter left Mr. Herman Merl in bad company,--he was alone.
+Now, very few men's thoughts are companionable in the dreary solitude
+of a sorry inn. None of us, it is to be feared, are totally exempt from
+“this world's crosses;” and though the sorrows of life do fall very
+unequally, the light afflictions are accepted as very heavy burdens by
+those to whose lot they fall!
+
+Just as it happens, then, on some gloomy day of winter, when we have
+“finished our book,” and the newspapers are tiresome, we take the
+opportunity to look through our letters and papers,--to arrange
+our desk, and put a little order in our scattered and littered
+memoranda,--somewhat in the same spirit will Conscience grasp a similar
+moment to go over the past, glance at bygone events, and make, as it
+were, a clearance of whatever weighs upon our memory. I 'm not quite
+certain that the best of us come out of this Bankruptcy Court with a
+first-class certificate. Even the most merciful to his own errors will
+acknowledge that in many things he should do differently were they to
+be done over again; and he must, indeed, have fallen upon a happy lot
+in life who has not some self-reproach on the score of kindness
+unrequited,--slight injuries either unforgiven or unequally
+avenged,--friendships jeopardized, mayhap lost, by some mere indulgence
+of temper,--and enmities unreconciled, just for lack of the veriest
+sacrifice of self-love.
+
+Were there any such court in morals as in law, what a sad spectacle
+would our schedule show, and how poor even the most solvent amongst us,
+if called on for a list of his liabilities!
+
+Lest our moralizing should grow uncomfortable, dear reader, let us
+return to Mr. Merl, now occupied, as he was, in this same process of
+self-examination. He sat with a little note-book before him, recalling
+various incidents of the past. And if the lowering expression of his
+face might be trusted, his reveries were not rose-colored; and yet, as
+he turned over the pages, it might be seen that moments of gratulation
+alternated with the intervals of self-reproach.
+
+“Wednesday, the 10th,” muttered he to himself, “dined at
+Philippe's--supped with Arkright and Bailey--whist at double Nap.
+points--won four hundred and ten--might have made it a thousand, but
+B. flung the cards out of the window in a passion, and had to cease
+playing.
+
+“Thursday--toothache--stayed at home, and played piquet with
+myself--discovered two new combinations, in taking in cards--Irving came
+to see me--won from him twenty pounds his mother had just sent him.
+
+“Friday--a good day's work--walked into Martin for two thousand seven
+hundred, and took his bill at three months, with promise to renew--dined
+with Sitwell, and sold him my Perugino for six hundred--cost myself not
+as many francs--am to have the refusal of all Vanderbrett's cabinets for
+letting him off his match with Columbine, which, by the way, he was sure
+to win, as Mope is dead lame.
+
+“Martin again--Saturday--came to have his revenge, but seemed
+quarrelsome; so I affected an engagement, and declined play.
+
+“Sunday--gave him his revenge, to the tune of twelve hundred in my
+own favor--'Lansquenet' in the evening at his rooms--several swells
+present--thought it prudent to drop some tin, and so, lost one hundred
+and forty Naps.--Sir Giles Bruce the chief winner--rich, and within two
+months of being of age.
+
+“Monday--the Perugino returned as a bad copy by Fava--took it at once,
+and said I was taken in myself--Sitwell so pleased that he sat down to
+écarté, and lost two hundred to me. I dine with him to-morrow.
+
+“Tuesday--blank--dinner at Sitwell's--met Colonel Cardie, whom I saw at
+Hombourg, and so refused to play. It was, I suspect, a plan of Sitwell's
+to pit us against each other.
+
+“Wednesday--sold out my African at seventy-one and an eighth--realized
+well, and bought in Poyais, which will rise for at least ten days to
+come--took Canchard's château at Ghent for his old debt at écarté--don't
+like it, as it may be talked about.
+
+“Gave a dinner to Wilson, Morris, Leader, Whyte, and Martin--Lescour
+could n't come--played little whist afterwards--changed for hazard after
+supper--won a few Naps., and home to bed.
+
+“Took Rigby's curricle and horses for the two hundred he owes me--glad
+to have done with him--he evidently wanted a row--and so play with him
+no more.
+
+“Sent ten Naps, to the fund for the poor injured by the late
+inundations, as the police called to ask about my passport, &c.
+
+“Saturday--the Curé of St. Rochette, to ask for alms--gave three hundred
+francs, and secured his services against the police--the curé mentions
+some curious drawings in the sacristy--promised to go and see them.
+
+“Bought Walrond's library for a franc a volume--the Elzevirs alone
+worth double the amount paid--Bailey bolted, and so lose his last
+bills--Martin quarrelsome--said he never yet won at any sitting with
+me--lost seventy to him, and sent him home satisfied.
+
+“Gave five hundred francs for the drawings at St. R------, abominable
+daubs; but the police grow more troublesome every day--besides,
+Crowthorpe is collecting early studies of Rembrandt--these sketches are
+marked R.
+
+“A great evening--cleared Martin out--suspect that this night's work
+makes me an Irish estated gentleman--must obtain legal opinion as to
+these same Irish securities and post-obits, involving, as they do, a
+heavy sum.”
+
+Mr. Merl paused at this _entrée_ in his diary, and began to reflect in
+no very gratulatory mood on the little progress he had as yet made in
+this same object of inquiry; in fact, he was just discovering what a
+vast number of more shrewd observers than himself have long since found
+out, that exploring in Ireland is rather tough work. Everything looks so
+easy and simple and plain upon the surface, and yet is so puzteling and
+complicated beneath; all seems so intelligible, where there is nothing
+in reality that is not a contradiction. It is true he was not harassing
+himself with problems of labor and wages, the condition of the people,
+the effects of emigration, and so forth. He wanted to ascertain some
+few facts as to the value of a certain estate, and what incumbrances it
+might be charged with; and to the questions he put on this head, every
+reply was an insinuated interrogatory to himself. “Why are _you_ here,
+Mr. Merl?” “How does it concern _you?_” “What may be _your_ interest in
+the same investigation?” This peculiar dialectic met him as he landed;
+it followed him to the West. Scanlan, the landlord, even that poor
+simpleton the painter--as he called Crow--had submitted him to its harsh
+rule, till Mr. Merl felt that, instead of pursuing an examination, he
+was himself everlastingly in the witness-box.
+
+Wearied of these speculations, dissatisfied with himself and his
+fruitless journey, he summoned the landlord to ask if that “old gent”
+ above stairs had not a book of some kind, or a newspaper, he could lend
+him. A ragged urchin speedily returned with a key in his hand, saying,
+“That's the key of No. 4. Joe says you may go up and search for
+yourself.”
+
+One more scrupulous might not exactly have fancied the office
+thus suggested to him. He, however, was rather pleased with the
+investigation, and having satisfied himself that the mission was safe,
+set forth to fulfil it. No. 4, as the stranger's room was called, was a
+large and lofty chamber, lighted by a single bay-window, the deep recess
+of which was occupied by a writing-table. Books, maps, letters, and
+drawings littered every part of the room. Costly weapons, too, such as
+richly chased daggers and inlaid pistols, lay carelessly about, with
+curiously shaped pipes and gold-embroidered tobacco-bags; a richly lined
+fur pelisse covered the sofa, and a skull-cap of the very finest sable
+lay beside it. All these were signs of affluence and comfort, and Mr.
+Merl pondered over them as he went from place to place, tossing over one
+thing after another, and losing himself in wild conjectures about the
+owner.
+
+The writing-table, we have said, was thickly strewn with letters, and to
+these he now addressed himself in all form, taking his seat comfortably
+for the investigation. Many of the letters were in foreign languages,
+and from remote and far-away lands. Some he was enabled to spell out,
+but they referred to places and events he had never heard of, and were
+filled with allusions he could not fathom. At length, however, he came
+to documents which interested him more closely. They were notes, most
+probably in the stranger's own hand, of his late tour along the coast.
+Mournful records were they all,--sad stories of destitution and want, a
+whole people struck down by famine and sickness, and a land perishing in
+utter misery. No personal narrative broke the dreary monotony of these
+gloomy records, and Merl searched in vain for what might give a clew
+to the writer's station or his object. Carefully drawn-up statistics,
+tables of the varying results of emigration, notes upon the tenure of
+land and the price of labor were all there, interspersed with replies
+from different quarters to researches of the writer's making. Numerous
+appeals to charity, entreaties for small loans of money, were mingled
+with grateful acknowledgments for benefits already received. There was
+much, had he been so minded, that Mr. Merl might have learned in this
+same unauthorized inquiry. There were abundant traits of the people
+displayed, strange insight into customs and ways peculiar to them,
+accurate knowledge, too, of the evils of their social condition;
+and, above all, there were the evidences of that curious compound of
+credulity and distrust, hope and fatalism, energy and inertness, which
+make up the Irish nature.
+
+He threw these aside, however, as themes that had no interest for him.
+What had he to do with the people? His care was with the soil, and less
+even with it than with its burdens and incumbrances. One conviction
+certainly did impress itself strongly upon him,--that he 'd part with
+his claims on the estate for almost anything, in preference to himself
+assuming the cares and duties of an Irish landlord,--a position which he
+summed up by muttering to himself, “is simply to have so many acres of
+bad land, with the charge of feeding so many thousands of bad people.”
+ Here were suggestions, it is true, how to make them better, coupled
+with details that showed the writer to be one well acquainted with the
+difficulties of his task; here, also, were dark catalogues of crime,
+showing how destitution and vice went hand in hand, and that the seasons
+of suffering were those of lawlessness and violence. Various hands were
+detectable in these documents. Some evinced the easy style and graceful
+penmanship of education; others were written in the gnarled hand of the
+daily, laborer. Many of these were interlined in what Merl soon detected
+to be the stranger's own handwriting; and brief as such remarks were,
+they sufficed to show how carefully their contents had been studied by
+him.
+
+“What could be the object of all this research? Was he some emissary of
+the Government, sent expressly to obtain this knowledge? Was he employed
+by some section of party politicians, or was he one of those literary
+philanthropists who trade upon the cheap luxury of pitying the poor and
+detailing their sorrows? At all events,” thought Mr. Merl, “this same
+information seems to have cost him considerable research, and not
+a little money; and as I am under a pledge to give the Captain some
+account of his dear country, here is a capital opportunity to do so,
+not only with ease, but actually with honor.” And having formed this
+resolve, he instantly proceeded to its execution. That wonderful little
+note-book, with its strong silver clasps, so full of strange and curious
+information, was now produced; but he soon saw that the various facts to
+be recorded demanded a wider space, and so he set himself to write down
+on a loose sheet of paper notices of the land in tillage or in pasture,
+the numerical condition of the people as compared with former years,
+their state, their prospects; but when he came to tell of the ravages
+made and still making by pestilence amongst them, he actually stopped to
+reread the records, so terrible and astounding were the facts narrated.
+A dreadful malady walked the land, and its victims lay in every house!
+The villages were depopulated, the little clusters of houses at cross
+roads were stricken, the lone shealing on the mountain side, the
+miserable cottage of the dreary moor, were each the scenes of desolation
+and death. It was as though the land were about to be devastated, and
+the race of man swept from its surface! As he read on, he came upon
+some strictures in the stranger's own hand upon these sad events, and
+perceived how terribly had the deserted, neglected state of the people
+aided the fatal course of the epidemic. No hospitals had been provided,
+no stores of any remedial kind, not a doctor for miles around, save an
+old physician who had been retained at Miss Martin's special charge, and
+who was himself nigh exhausted by the fatigue of his office.
+
+Mr. Merl laid down his pen to think,--not, indeed, in any compassionate
+spirit of that suffering people; his sorrows were not for those who lay
+on beds of want and sickness; his whole anxiety was for a certain person
+very dear to his own heart, who had rashly accepted securities on a
+property which, to all seeming, was verging upon ruin; this conviction
+being strongly impressed by the lawless state of the country, and the
+hopelessness of expecting payment from a tenantry so circumstanced.
+
+“Sympathy, indeed!” cried he; “I should like to hear of a little
+sympathy for the unlucky fellow who has accepted a mortgage on this
+confounded estate! These wretched creatures have little to lose,--and
+even death itself ought to be no unwelcome relief to a life like
+theirs,--but to a man such as I am, with abundance of projects for his
+spare cash, this is a pretty investment! It is not impossible that this
+philanthropic stranger, whoever he be, might buy up my bonds. He should
+have them a bargain,--ay, by Jove! I'd take off a jolly percentage to
+touch the 'ready;' and who knows, what with all his benevolence, his
+charity, and his Christian kindliness, if he 'd not come down handsomely
+to rescue this unhappy people from the hands of a Jew!”
+
+And Mr. Merl laughed pleasantly, for the conceit amused him, and it
+sounded gratefully to his imagination that even his faith could be put
+out to interest, and the tabernacle be turned to good account. The noise
+of a chaise approaching at a sharp trot along the shingly beach startled
+him from his musings, and he had barely time to snatch up the paper
+on which he had scrawled his notes, and hasten downstairs, when the
+obsequious landlord, rushing to the door, ushered in Mr. Barry, and
+welcomed him back again.
+
+Merl suffered his door to stand ajar, that he might take a look at
+the stranger as he passed. He was a very large, powerfully built man,
+somewhat stooped by age, but showing even in advanced years signs of a
+vigorous frame and stout constitution; his head was massive, and covered
+with snow-white hair, which descended on the back of his neck. His
+countenance must in youth have been handsome, and even yet bore the
+expression of a frank, generous, but somewhat impetuous nature,--so
+at least it struck him who now observed it; a character not improbably
+aided by his temper as he entered, for he had returned from scenes of
+misery and suffering, and was in a mood of indignation at the neglect he
+had just witnessed.
+
+“You said truly,” said he to the landlord. “You told me I shouldn't
+see a gentleman for twenty miles round; that all had fled and left the
+people to their fate, and I see now it is a fact.”
+
+“Faix, and no wonder,” answered the host. “Wet potatoes and the shaking
+ague, not to speak of cholera morbus, is n't great inducements to stay
+and keep company with. I 'd be off, too, if I had the means.”
+
+“But I spoke of gentlemen, sir,” said the stranger, with a strong
+emphasis on the word,--“men who should be the first to prove their birth
+and blood when a season of peril was near.”
+
+“Thrue for you, sir,” chimed in Joe, who suddenly detected the blunder
+he had committed. “The Martins ought not to have run away in the middle
+of our distress.”
+
+“They left the ship in a storm; they 'll find a sorry wreck when they
+return to it,” muttered the stranger, as he ascended the stairs.
+
+“By Jacob! just what I suspected,” said Merl to himself, while he closed
+the door; “this property won't be worth sixpence, and I am regularly
+'done.'”
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIII. A NIGHT OF STORM
+
+The curtains were closely drawn, and a cheerful turf fire blazed in
+the room where Mr. Merl sat at dinner. The fare was excellent, and even
+rustic cookery sufficed to make fresh salmon and mountain mutton and
+fat woodcocks delectable; while the remains of Mr. Scanlan's hamper set
+forth some choice Madeira and several bottles of Sneyd's claret. Nor was
+he for whose entertainment these good things were provided in any way
+incapable of enjoying them. With the peculiar sensuality of his race,
+he loved his dinner all to himself and alone. He delighted in the
+privileged selfishness that isolation conferred, and he revelled in a
+sort of complacent flattery at the thought of all the people who were
+dining worse than himself, and the stray thousands besides who were not
+destined on that day to dine at all.
+
+The self-caressing shudder that came over him as the sound of a horse at
+speed on the shore outside was heard, spoke plainly as words themselves
+the pleasant comparison that crossed his mind between the condition of
+the rider and his own. He drew nearer the fire, he threw on a fresh log
+of pine, and, filling up a bumper, seemed to linger as he viewed it, as
+though wishing health and innumerable blessings to Mr. Herman Merl.
+
+The noise of the clattering hoofs died away in distance and in the
+greater uproar of the storm, and Mr. Merl thought no more of them. How
+often happens it, dear reader, that some brief interruption flashes
+through our seasons of enjoyment; we are startled, perhaps; we even
+need a word or two to reassure us that all is well, and then the work of
+pleasure goes on, and we forget that it had ever been retarded; and
+yet, depend upon it, in that fleeting second of time some sad episode of
+human life has, like a spectre, crossed our path, and some deep sorrow
+gone wearily past us.
+
+Let us follow that rider, then, who now, quitting the bleak shore,
+has entered a deep gorge between the mountain. The rain swept along in
+torrents; the wind in fitful gusts dashes the mountain stream in many a
+wayward shape, and snaps the stems of old trees in pieces; landslips and
+broken rocks impede the way; and yet that brave horse holds ever onward,
+now stretching to a fast gallop, now gathering himself to clear some
+foaming torrent, or some fragment of fallen timber.
+
+The night is so dark that the rider cannot see the horse's length in
+advance; but every feature of the way is well known, and an instinctive
+sense of the peril to be apprehended at each particular spot guides that
+hand and nerves that heart. Mary Martin--for she it is--had ridden that
+same path at all seasons and all hours, but never on a wilder night,
+nor through a more terrible hurricane than this. At moments her speed
+relaxed, as if to breathe her horse; and twice she pulled up short, to
+listen and distinguish between the sound of thunder and the crashing
+noise of rocks rolling from the mountain. There was a sublimity in the
+scene, lit up at moments by the lightning; and a sense of peril, too,
+that exalted the adventurous spirit of the girl, and imparted to her
+heart a high heroic feeling. The glorious sentiment of confronting
+danger animated and excited her; and her courage rose with each new
+difficulty of the way, till her very brain seemed to reel with the wild
+transport of her emotions.
+
+As she emerged from the gorge, she gained a high tableland, over which
+the wind swept unimpeded. Not a cliff, not a rock, not a tree, broke the
+force of the gale, which raged with all the violence of a storm at sea.
+Crouching low upon the saddle, stooping at times to the mane, she could
+barely make way against the hurricane; and more than once her noble
+charger was driven backward, and forced to turn his back to the storm.
+_Her_ courage never failed. Taking advantage of every passing lull, she
+dashed forward, ready to wheel and halt when the wind shot past with
+violence.
+
+Descending at last from this elevated plateau, she again entered a deep
+cleft between the mountain, the road littered with fallen earth and
+branches of trees, so as almost to defy a passage. After traversing
+upwards of a mile of this wearisome way, she arrived at the door of a
+small cabin, the first trace of habitation since she had quitted the
+village. It was a mere hovel, abutting against a rock, and in its dreary
+solitude seemed the last refuge of direst poverty.
+
+She bent down from her saddle to look in at the window; but, except some
+faint embers on the hearth, all was dark within. She then knocked with
+her whip against the door, and called “Morris” two or three times; but
+no reply was given. Springing from her horse, Mary fastened the bridle
+to the hasp of the door-post, and entered. The heavy breathing of one
+in deep sleep at once caught her attention > and, approaching the
+fireplace, she lighted a piece of pine-wood to examine about her. On a
+low settle in one corner lay the figure of a young woman, whose pale,
+pinched features contrasted strongly with the bright ribbons of her cap
+floating loosely at either side. Mary tottered as she drew nigher; a
+terrible sense of fear was over her,--a terror of she knew not what.
+She held the flickering flame closer, and saw that she was dead! Poor
+Margaret, she had been one of Mary's chief favorites; the very cap that
+now decked her cold forehead was Mary's wedding-gift to her. But a few
+days before, her little child had been carried to the churchyard; and
+it was said that the mother never held up her head after. Sick almost
+to fainting, Mary Martin sank into a chair, and then saw, for the first
+time, the figure of a man, who, half kneeling, lay with his head on the
+foot of the bed, fast asleep! Weariness, utter exhaustion, were
+marked in his pale-worn features, while his attitude bespoke complete
+prostration. His hand still clasped a little rosary.
+
+[Illustration: 156]
+
+It seemed but the other day that she had wished them “joy” upon their
+wedding, and they had gone home to their little cabin in hopefulness
+and high-hearted spirit, and there she lay now a cold corpse, and he,
+bereaved and childless. What a deal of sad philosophy do these words
+reveal! What dark contrasts do we bring up when we say, “It was but the
+other day.” It was but “the other day,” and Cro' Martin was the home
+of one whose thriving tenantry reflected back all his efforts for their
+welfare, when movement and occupation bespoke a condition of activity
+and cheerful industry; when, even in their poverty, the people bore
+bravely up, and the cases of suffering but sufficed to call out traits
+of benevolence and kind feeling. It was but “the other day,” and Mary
+herself rode out amidst the people, like some beloved sovereign in the
+middle of her subjects; happy faces beamed brighter when she came, and
+even misery half forgot itself in her presence. But “the other day” and
+the flag waved proudly from the great tower, to show that Cro' Martin
+was the residence of its owner, and Mary the life and soul of all that
+household!
+
+Such-like were her thoughts as she stood still gazing on the sad scene
+before her. She could not bring herself to awaken the poor fellow, who
+thus, perchance, stole a short respite from his sorrows; but leaving
+some money beside him on a chair, and taking one farewell look of poor
+Margaret, she stole silently away, and remounted her horse.
+
+Again she is away through the storm and the tempest! Her pace is now
+urged to speed, for she knows every field and every fence,--where to
+press her horse to his gallop, where to spare and husband his strength.
+At one moment she steals carefully along amid fragments of fallen rocks
+and broken timber; at another, she flies, with racing speed, over the
+smooth sward. At length, through the gloom and darkness, the tall towers
+of Cro' Martin are seen over the deep woods; but her horse's head is not
+turned thitherward. No; she has taken another direction, and, skirting
+the wall of the demesne, she is off towards the wild, bleak country
+beyond. It is past midnight; not a light gleams from a cabin window as
+she dashes past; all is silent save the plashing rain, which, though the
+wind has abated, continues to fall in torrents. Crossing the bleak moor,
+whose yawning pits even in daylight suggest care and watchfulness, she
+gains the foot of the barren mountain on which Barnagheela stands,
+and descries in the distance the flickering of a light dimly traceable
+through the falling rain.
+
+For the first time her horse shows signs of fatigue, and Mary caresses
+him with her hand, and speaks encouragingly to him as she slackens her
+pace, ascending the hill at a slow walk. After about half an hour of
+this toilsome progress, for the surface is stony and rock-covered, she
+reaches the little “boreen” road which forms the approach to the house.
+Mary has never been there before, and advances now slowly and carefully
+between two rude walls of dry masonry which lead to the hall-door. As
+she nears the house, the gleam of lights from between the ill-closed
+shutters attracts her, and suddenly through the swooping rain come the
+sounds of several voices in tones of riot and revelry. She listens; and
+it is now the rude burst of applause that breaks forth,--a din of voices
+loudly proclaiming the hearty approval of some sentiment or opinion.
+
+While she halts to determine what course next to follow,--for these
+signs of revelry have disconcerted her,--she hears a rough, loud voice
+from within call out, “There's another toast you must drink now, and
+fill for it to the brim. Come, Peter Hayes, no skulking; the liquor is
+good, and the sentiment the same. Gentlemen, you came here to-night to
+honor my poor house--my ancestral house, I may call it--on the victory
+we 've gained over tyranny and oppression.” Loud cheers here interrupted
+him, but he resumed: “They tried--by the aid of the law that they made
+themselves--to turn me out of my house and home. They did all that false
+swearing and forged writing could do, to drive me--me, Tom Magennis,
+the last of an ancient stock--out upon the highways.” (Groans from the
+hearers.) “But they failed,--ay, gentlemen, they failed. Old Repton,
+with all his skill, and Scanlan, with all his treachery, could n't do
+it. Joe Nelligan, like Goliath--no, like David, I mean--put a stone
+between their two eyes, and laid them low.” (Loud cheering, and cries of
+“Why is n't he here?” “Where is he to-night?”) “Ay, gentlemen,” resumed
+the speaker, “ye may well ask where is he this night? when we are
+celebrating not only our triumph, but his; for it was the first brief he
+ever held,--the first guinea he ever touched for a fee! I 'll tell
+you where he is. Skulking--ay, that's the word for it--skulking in
+Oughterard,--hiding himself for shame because he beat the Martins!” (
+Loud expressions of anger, and some of dissent, here broke forth; some
+inveighing against this cowardice, others defending him against the
+charge.) “Say what you like,” roared Magennis; “I know, and he knows
+that I know it. What was it he said when Mahony went to him with my
+brief? 'I'll not refuse to undertake the case,' said he, 'but I 'll not
+lend myself to any scurrilous attack upon the family at Cro' Martin!'”
+ (Groans.) “Ay, but listen,” continued he: “'And if I find,' said he--'if
+I find that in the course of the case such an attempt should be made, I
+'ll throw down my brief though I never should hold another.' There's Joe
+Nelligan for you! There's the stuff you thought you 'd make a Patriot
+out of!”
+
+“Say what you like, Tom Magennis, he's a credit to the town,” said old
+Hayes, “and he won your cause this day against one of the 'cutest of the
+Dublin counsellors.”
+
+“He did so, sir,” resumed Magennis, “and he got his pay, and there's
+nothing between us; and I told him so, and more besides; for I said,
+'You may flatter them and crawl to them; you may be as servile as a
+serpent or a boa-constrictor to them; but take _my_ word for it, Mister
+Joe,--or Counsellor Nelligan, if you like it better,--they'll never
+forget who and what you are,--the son of old Dan there, of the High
+Street,--and you 've a better chance to be the Chief Justice than the
+husband of Mary Martin!'”
+
+“You told him that!” cried several together. “I did, sir; and I believe
+for a minute he meant to strike me; he got pale with passion, and then
+he got red--blood red; and, in that thick way he has when he 's angry,
+he said, 'Whatever may be my hopes of the Bench, I'll not win my way
+to it by ever again undertaking the cause of a ruffian!' 'Do you mean
+_me?_' said I,--'do you mean _me?_' But he turned away into the house,
+and I never saw him since. If it had n't been for Father Neal there, I
+'d have had him out for it, sir!”
+
+“We've other work before us than quarrelling amongst ourselves,” said
+the bland voice of Father Rafferty; “and now for your toast, Tom, for I
+'m dry waiting for it.”
+
+“Here it is, then,” cried Magennis. “A speedy downfall to the Martins!”
+
+“A speedy downfall to the Martins!” was repeated solemnly in chorus;
+while old Hayes interposed, “Barring the niece,--barring Miss Mary.”
+
+“I won't except one,” cried Magennis. “My august leader remarked,
+'It was false pity for individuals destroyed the great revolution of
+France.' It was--” Mary did not wait for more, but, turning her horse's
+head, moved slowly around towards the back of the house.
+
+Through a wide space, of which the rickety broken gate hung by a single
+hinge, Mary entered a large yard, a court littered with disabled carts,
+harrows, and other field implements, all equally unserviceable. Beneath
+a low shed along one of the walls stood three or four horses, with
+harness on them, evidently belonging to the guests assembled within. All
+these details were plainly visible by the glare of an immense fire which
+blazed on the kitchen hearth, and threw its light more than half-way
+across the yard. Having disposed of her horse at one end of the shed,
+Mary stealthily drew nigh the kitchen window, and looked in. An old,
+very old woman, in the meanest attire, sat crouching beside the fire;
+and although she held a huge wooden ladle in her hand, seemed, by her
+drooped head and bent-down attitude, either moping or asleep. Various
+cooking utensils were on the fire, and two or three joints of meat hung
+roasting before it, while the hearth was strewn with dishes, awaiting
+the savory fare that was to fill them.
+
+These, and many other indications of the festivity then going on within,
+Mary rapidly noticed; but it was evident, from the increasing eagerness
+of her gaze, that the object which she sought had not yet met her eye.
+Suddenly, however, the door of the kitchen opened and a figure entered,
+on which the young girl bent all her attention. It was Joan Landy, but
+how different from the half-timid, half-reckless peasant girl that last
+we saw her! Dressed in a heavy gown of white satin, looped up on either
+side with wreaths of flowers, and wearing a rich lace cap on her head,
+she rushed hurriedly in, her face deeply flushed, and her eyes sparkling
+with excitement. Hastily snatching up a check apron that lay on a chair,
+she fastened it about her, and drew near the fire. It was plain from her
+gesture, as she took the ladle from the old woman's hand, that she
+was angry, and by her manner seemed as if rebuking her. The old crone,
+however, only crouched lower, and spreading out her wasted fingers
+towards the blaze, appeared insensible to everything addressed to
+her. Meanwhile Joan busied herself about the fire with all the zealous
+activity of one accustomed to the task. Mary watched her intently; she
+scrutinized with piercing keenness every lineament of that face, now
+moved by its passing emotions, and she muttered to herself, “Alas, I
+have come in vain!” Nor was this depressing sentiment less felt as Joan,
+turning from the fire, approached a fragment of a broken looking-glass
+that stood against the wall. Drawing herself up to her full height, she
+stood gazing proudly, delightedly, at her own figure. The humble apron,
+too, was speedily discarded, and as she trampled it beneath her feet
+she seemed to spurn the mean condition of which it was the symbol. Mary
+Martin sighed deeply as she looked, and muttered once more, “In vain!”
+
+Then suddenly starting, with one of those bursts of energy which
+so often had steeled her heart against peril, she walked to the
+kitchen-door, raised the latch, and entered. She had made but one step
+within the door when Joan turned and beheld her; and there they both
+stood, silently, each surveying the other. Mary felt too intensely the
+difficulty of the task before her to utter a word without well weighing
+the consequences. She knew how the merest accident might frustrate all
+she had in view, and stood hesitating and uncertain, when Joan, who now
+recognized her, vacillated between her instinctive sense of respect and
+a feeling of defiance in the consciousness of where she was. Happily
+for Mary the former sentiment prevailed, and in a tone of kindly anxiety
+Joan drew near her and said,--“Has anything happened? I trust in God no
+accident has befell you.”
+
+“Thank God, nothing worse than a wetting,” said Mary,--“some little
+fatigue; and I'll think but little of either if they have brought me
+here to a good end. May I speak with you alone,--quite alone?”
+
+“Come in here,” said Joan, pushing open the door of a small room off the
+kitchen which served for a species of larder,--“come in here.”
+
+“I have come on a sad errand,” said Mary, taking her hand between both
+her own, “and I would that it had fallen to any other than myself. It is
+for you to decide that! have not come in vain.”
+
+“What is it? tell me what it is?” cried Joan, as a sudden paleness
+spread over her features.
+
+“These are days of sorrow and mourning everywhere,” said Mary, gloomily.
+“Can you not guess what my tidings may be? No, no,” cried she, as a
+sudden gesture of Joan interrupted her,--“no, not yet; he is still
+alive, and entreats to see you.”
+
+“To curse me again, is it?” cried the other, wildly; “to turn me from
+the door, and pray down curses on me,--is it for that he wants to see
+me?”
+
+“Not for that, indeed,” said Mary; “it is to see you--to give you his
+last kiss--his last blessing--to forgive you and be forgiven. Remember
+that he is alone, deserted by all that once were his. Your father and
+mother and sisters are all gone to America, and poor old Mat lingers
+on,--nay, the journey is nigh ended. Oh, do not delay, lest it be too
+late. Come now--now.”
+
+“And if I see him once, can I ever come back to this?” cried Joan, in
+bitter agony. “Will I ever be able to hear his words and live as I do
+now?”
+
+[Illustration: 162]
+
+“Let your own good heart guide you for that,” cried Mary; “all I ask is
+that you should see him and be with him. I have pledged myself for your
+coming, and you will not dishonor my words to one on his death-bed.”
+
+“And I 'll be an outcast for it. Tom will drive me from the door and
+never see me again. I know it,--I know _him_!”
+
+“You are wrong, Joan Landy.”
+
+“Joan!--who dares to call me Joan Landy when I'm Mrs. Magennis of
+Barnagheela? and if _I'm_ not _your_ equal, I 'm as good as any other in
+the barony. Was it to insult me you came here to-night, to bring up to
+me who I am and where I came from? That 's the errand that brought you
+through the storm! Ay,” cried she, lashed to a wilder passion by her own
+words,--“ay! ay! and if you and yours had their will we 'd not have the
+roof to shelter us this night. It 's only to-day that we won the trial
+against you.”
+
+“Whatever my errand here this night,” said Mary, with a calm dignity,
+“it was meant to serve and not insult you. I know, as well as your
+bitterest words can tell me, that this is not my place; but I know, too,
+if from yielding to my selfish pride I had refused your old grandfather
+this last request, it had been many a year of bitter reproach to me.”
+
+“Oh, you 'll break my heart, you will, you will!” cried Joan, bitterly.
+“You 'll turn the only one that's left against me, and I 'll be alone in
+the world.”
+
+“Come with me this night, and whatever happen I 'll befriend you,” said
+Mary.
+
+“And not desert me because I 'm what I am?”
+
+“Never, Joan, never!”
+
+“Oh, my blessings on you,--if the blessing of one like me is any good,”
+ cried she, kissing Mary's hand fervently. “Oh, they that praised you
+said the truth; you have goodness enough in your heart to make up for us
+all! I 'll go with you to the world's end.”
+
+“We'll pass Cro' Martin, and you shall have my horse--”
+
+“No, no, Miss Mary, I 'll go on my feet; it best becomes me. I 'll go by
+Burnane--by the Gap--I know it well--too well!” added she, as the tears
+rushed to her eyes. As she was speaking, she took off the cap she wore
+and threw it from her; and then removing her dress, put on the coarse
+woollen gown of her daily wear. “Oh, God forgive me!” cried she, “if I
+curse the day that I ever wore better than this.”
+
+Mary assisted her with her dress, fastening the hood of her cloak over
+her head, and preparing her, as best she might, for the severe storm
+she was to encounter; and it was plain to see that Joan accepted these
+little services without a thought of by whom they were rendered, so
+intensely occupied was her mind by the enterprise before her. A feverish
+haste to be away marked all she did. It was partly terror lest her
+escape might be prevented; partly a sense of distrust in herself, and
+that she might abandon her own resolution.
+
+“Oh, tell me,” she cried, as the tears streamed from her eyes, and her
+lips quivered with agony,--“oh, tell me I'm doing right; tell me that
+God's blessing is going with me this night, or I can't do it.”
+
+“And so it is, dear Joan,” said Mary; “be of good heart, and Heaven will
+support you. I 'm sure the trial is a sore one.”
+
+“Oh, is it not to leave this--to leave him--maybe forever? To be sure,
+it's forever,” cried she, bitterly. “He 'll never forgive me!”
+
+A wild burst of revelry now resounded from the parlor, and the
+discordant sounds of half-drunken voices burst upon their ears.
+
+Joan started, and gazed wildly around her. The agonized look of her
+features bespoke her dread of detection; and then with a bound she
+sprung madly from the spot, and was away. Mary followed quickly; but
+before she had secured her horse and mounted, the other was already
+half-way down the mountain. Now catching, now losing sight of her again,
+Mary at last came up with her.
+
+“Remember, dear Joan,” said Mary, “there are nine weary miles of
+mountain before you.”
+
+“I know it well,” was the brief reply.
+
+“And if you go by Burnane the rocks are slippy with the rain, and the
+path to the shore is full of danger.”
+
+“If I was afeard of danger, would I be here?” cried she. “Oh, Miss
+Mary,” added she, stopping and grasping her hand in both her own, “leave
+me to myself; don't come with me,--it's not one like you ought to keep
+me company.”
+
+“But Joan,--dear Joan,--I have promised to be your friend, and I am not
+one who forgets a pledge.”
+
+“My heart will break; it will break in two if you talk to me. Leave me,
+for the love of Heaven, and let me go my road all alone. There, at the
+two trees there, is the way to Cro' Martin; take it, and may the Saints
+guide you safe home!”
+
+“And if I do, Joan, will you promise me to come straight back to Cro'
+Martin after you 've seen him? Will you do this?”
+
+“I will,--I will,” cried she, bathing Mary's hand with her tears as she
+kissed it.
+
+“Then God bless and protect you, poor girl!” said Mary. “It is not for
+me to dictate to your own full heart. Goodbye,--good-bye.”
+
+Before Mary had dried the warm tears that rose to her eyes, Joan was
+gone.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIV. THE END OF A BAR MESS
+
+There are few things more puzzling to the uninitiated than the total
+separation lawyers are able to exercise between their private sentiments
+and the emotions they display in the wear and tear of their profession.
+So widely apart are these two characters, that it is actually difficult
+to understand how they ever can unite in one man. But so it is. He can
+pass his morning in the most virulent assaults upon his learned brother,
+ridiculing his law, laughing at his logic, arraigning his motives,--nay,
+sometimes ascribing to him some actually base and wicked. Altercations,
+heightened by all that passion stimulated by wit can produce, ensue.
+Nothing that can taunt, provoke, or irritate, is omitted. Personalities
+even are introduced to swell the acrimony of the contest; and yet,
+when the jury have given in their verdict and the court breaks up, the
+gladiators, who seemed only thirsting for each other's blood, are seen
+laughingly going homeward arm-in-arm, mayhap discoursing over the very
+cause which, but an hour back, seemed to have stamped them enemies for
+the rest of life.
+
+Doubtless there is a great deal to be pleased at in all this, and, we
+ought to rejoice in the admirable temper by which men can discriminate
+between the faithful performance of a duty and the natural course of
+their affections. Still, small-minded folk--of which wide category
+we own ourselves to be a part--may have their misgivings that the
+excellence of this system is not without its alloy, and that even the
+least ingenious of men will ultimately discover how much principle is
+sapped, and how much truthfulness of character is sacrificed in this
+continual struggle between fiction and reality.
+
+The Bar is the nursery of the Senate, and it would not be a very
+fanciful speculation were we to ascribe the laxity of purpose, the
+deficient earnestness, and the insincerity of principle we often deplore
+in our public men, to this same legal training.
+
+The old lawyer, however, finds no difficulty in the double character.
+With his wig and gown he puts on his sarcasm, his insolence, and his
+incredulity. His brief bag opens to him a Pandora's box of noxious
+influences; and as he passes the precincts of the court, he leaves
+behind him all the amenities of life and all the charities of his
+nature. The young barrister does not find the transmutation so easy. He
+gives himself unreservedly to his client, and does not measure his ardor
+by the instructions in his brief. Let us ask pardon of our reader for
+what may seem _a mal à propos_ digression; but we have been led to these
+remarks by the interests of our story.
+
+It was in the large dining-room of the “Martin Arms” at Oughterard, that
+a party of lawyers spent the evening, some of whose events, elsewhere,
+our last chapter has recorded. It was the Bar mess of the Western
+Circuit, and the chair was filled by no less a person than “Father
+Repton.” This able “leader” had determined not to visit the West of
+Ireland so long as his friend Martin remained abroad; but a very urgent
+entreaty from Scanlan, and a pressing request for his presence, had
+induced him to waive that resolve, and come down special to Oughterard
+for the Magennis case.
+
+A simple case of ejectment could scarcely have called for that imposing
+array of learned counsel who had repaired to this unfrequented spot;
+so small a skirmish could never have called for the horse, foot, and
+dragoons of law,--the wily conveyancer, the clap-trap orator, the
+browbeater of witnesses, and the light sharpshooter at technicalities;
+and yet there they were all met, and--with all reverence be it
+spoken--very jolly companions they were.
+
+An admirable rule precluded the introduction of, or even an allusion
+to, professional subjects, save when the burden of a joke, whose
+success might excuse the transgression; and thus these crafty, keen
+intelligences argued, disputed, jested, and disported together, in a
+vein which less practised talkers would find it hard to rival. To the
+practice of these social amenities is doubtless ascribable the absence
+of any rancor from the rough contests and collisions of public life, and
+thus men of every shade of politics and party, differing even in class
+and condition, formed admirable social elements, and cohered together to
+perfection.
+
+As the evening wore on, the company insensibly thinned off. Some of the
+hard-workers retired early; a few, whose affectation it was to pretend
+engagements, followed. The “juniors” repaired in different groups to the
+chambers of their friends, where loo and brandy-and-water awaited them;
+and at last Repton was left, with only two others, sole occupants of
+that spacious apartment. His companions were, like himself, soldiers of
+the “Vieille Garde” veterans who remembered Curran and Lawrence Parsons,
+John Toler and Saurin, and a host of others, who only needed that the
+sphere should have been greater to be themselves among the great of the
+nation.
+
+Rawlins was Repton's schoolfellow, and had been his rival at the Bar
+for nigh fifty years. Niel, a few years younger than either, was the
+greatest orator of his time. Both had been opposed to Repton in the
+present suit, and had held heavy retainers for their services.
+
+“Well, Repton,” said Rawlins, as soon as they were left thus to
+themselves, “are you pondering over it still? I see that you can't get
+it out of your head.”
+
+“It is quite true, I cannot,” said Repton. “To summon us all down
+here,--to bring us some fifty miles away from our accustomed beat, for a
+trumpery affair like this, is totally beyond me. Had it been an election
+time, I should probably have understood it.”
+
+“How so?” cried Niel, in the shrill piercing voice peculiar to him,
+and which imparted to him, even in society, an air of querulous
+irritability.
+
+“On the principle that Bob Mahon always puts a thoroughbred horse in his
+gig when he drives over to a country race. He's always ready for a match
+with what he jocularly calls 'the old screw I 'm driving this minute;'
+so, Niel, I thought that the retainer for the ejectment might have
+turned out to be a special fee for the election.”
+
+“And he 'd have given them a speech, and a rare good one, too, I promise
+you,” said Rawlins; “and even if he had not time to speak it, the county
+paper would have had it all printed and corrected from his own hand,
+with all the appropriate interruption of 'vociferous cheering,' and the
+places where the orator was obliged to pause, from the wild tumult of
+acclamation that surrounded him.”
+
+“Which all resolves itself into this,” screamed Niel,--“that some men's
+after-grass is better than other men's meadows.”
+
+“Mine has fallen to the scythe many a day ago,” said Rawlins,
+plaintively; “but I remember glorious times and glorious fellows. It
+was, indeed, worth something to say, '_Vixissi cum illis_.'”
+
+“There 's another still better, Rawlins,” cried Repton, joyously, “which
+is to have survived them!”
+
+“Very true,” cried Niel. “I 'd always plead a demurrer to any notice to
+quit; for, take it all in all, this life has many enjoyments.”
+
+“Such as Attorney-Generalships, Masters of the Rolls, and such like,”
+ said Repton.
+
+“By the way,” said Rawlins, “who put that squib in the papers about your
+having refused the rolls,--eh, Niel?”
+
+“Who but Niel himself?” chimed in Repton. “It was filing a bill of
+discovery. He wanted to know the intentions of the Government.”
+
+“I could have had but little doubt of them,” broke in Niel. “It was my
+advice, man, cancelled your appointment as Crown Counsel, Repton. I told
+Massingbred, 'If you do keep a watch-dog, let it be, at least, one who
+'ll bite some one beside the family.'”
+
+“He has muzzled you there, Repton,” said Rawlins, laughing. “Eh, that
+was a bitter draught!”
+
+“So it was,” said Repton. “It was Curran wine run to the lees! and
+very unlike the racy flavor of the true liquor. And to speak in all
+seriousness, what has come over us all to be thus degenerate and fallen?
+It is not alone that we have not the equals of the first-rate men, but
+we really have nothing to compare with O'Grady, and Parsons, and a score
+of others.”
+
+“I 'll tell you why,” cried Niel,--“the commodity is n't marketable. The
+stupid men, who will always be the majority everywhere, have got up the
+cry, that to be agreeable is to be vulgar. We know how large cravats
+came into fashion; tiresome people came in with high neckcloths.”
+
+“I wish they 'd go out with hempen ones, then,” muttered Repton.
+
+“I 'd not refuse them the benefit of the clergy,” said Niel, with a
+malicious twinkle of the eye, that showed how gladly, when occasion
+offered, he flung a pebble at the Church.
+
+“They were very brilliant,--they were very splendid, I own,” said
+Rawlins; “but I have certain misgivings that they gave themselves too
+much to society.”
+
+“Expended too much of their powder in fireworks,” cried Niel,
+sharply,--“so they did; but their rockets showed how high they could
+rise to.”
+
+“Ay, Niel, and we only burn our fingers with ours,” said Repton,
+sarcastically.
+
+“Depend upon it,” resumed Rawlins, “as the world grows more practical,
+you will have less of great convivial display. Agreeability will cease
+to be the prerogative of first-rate men, but be left to the smart people
+of society, who earn their soup by their sayings.”
+
+“He's right,” cried Niel, in his shrillest tone. “The age of alchemists
+is gone; the sleight-of-hand man and the juggler have succeeded him.”
+
+“And were they not alchemists?” exclaimed old Repton, enthusiastically.
+“Did they not transmute the veriest dross of the earth, and pour
+it forth from the crucible of their minds a stream of liquid
+gold?--glorious fellows, who, in the rich abundance of their minds,
+brought the learning of their early days to illustrate the wisdom of
+their age, and gave the fresh-heartedness of the schoolboy to the ripe
+intelligence of manhood.”
+
+“And yet how little have they bequeathed to us!” said Niel.
+
+“Would it were even less,” broke in Repton. “We read the witticism
+of brilliant conversera in some diary or journal, often ill recorded,
+imperfectly given, always unaccompanied by the accessories of the scene
+wherein they occurred. We have not the crash, the tumult, the headlong
+flow of social intercourse, where the impromptu fell like a thunderbolt,
+and the bon mots rattled like a fire of musketry. To attempt to convey
+an impression of these great talkers by a memoir, is like to picture a
+battle by reading out a list of the killed and wounded.”
+
+“Repton is right!” exclaimed Niel. “The recorded bon mot is the words of
+a song without the music.”
+
+“And often where it was the melody that inspired the verses,” added
+Repton, always glad to follow up an illustration.
+
+“After all,” said Rawlins, “the fashion of the day is changed in other
+respects as well as in conversational excellence. Nothing is like what
+we remember it!--literature, dress, social habits, oratory. There, for
+instance, was that young fellow to-day; his speech to the jury,--a very
+good and sensible one, no doubt,--but how unlike what it would have been
+some five-and-thirty or forty years ago.”
+
+“It was first-rate,” said Repton, with enthusiasm. “I say it frankly,
+and 'fas est ab hoste,' for he tripped me up in a point of law, and
+I have, therefore, a right to applaud him. To tell you the truth,” he
+added slyly, “I knew I was making a revoke, but I thought none of the
+players were shrewd enough to detect me.”
+
+“Niel and I are doubtless much complimented by the remark,” said
+Rawlins.
+
+“Pooh, pooh!” cried Repton, “what did great guns like you and Niel care
+for such 'small deer.' You were only brought down here as a great _corps
+de réserve_. It was young Nelligan who fought the battle, and admirably
+he did it. While I was listening to him to-day, I could not help saying
+to myself, 'It's well for us that there were no fellows of this stamp
+in our day.' Ay, Rawlins, you know it well. We were speech-makers; these
+fellows are lawyers.”
+
+“Why didn't he dine with us to-day?” asked Niel, sharply.
+
+“Heaven knows. I believe his father lives in the town here; perhaps,
+too, he had no fancy for a dress-parade before such drill-sergeants as
+you and Rawlins there.”
+
+“You are acquainted with him, I think?” asked Rawlins.
+
+“Yes, slightly; we met strangely enough, at Cro' Martin last year. He
+was then on a visit there, a quiet, timid youth, who actually seemed to
+feel as though his college successes were embarrassing recollections in
+a society who knew nothing of deans or proctors. There was another young
+fellow also there at the time,--young Massingbred,--with about a tenth
+of this man's knowledge, and a fiftieth of his capacity, who took the
+lead of him on every subject, and by the bare force of an admirable
+manner and a most unabashed impudence, threw poor Nelligan completely
+into the background. It was the same kind of thing I 've often seen Niel
+there perform at the Four Courts, where he has actually picked up his
+law from a worsted opponent, as a highwayman arms himself with the
+pistols of the man he has robbed.”
+
+“I never pillaged _you_, Repton,” said Niel, with a sarcastic smile.
+“_You_ had always the privilege the poet ascribes to him who laughs
+'before a robber.'”
+
+“Vacuus sed non Inanis,” replied Repton, laughing good-humoredly.
+
+“But tell us more of this man, Nelligan,” said Rawlins. “I 'm curious to
+hear about him.”
+
+“And so you are sure to do some of these days, Rawlins. That fellow is
+the man to attain high eminence.”
+
+“His religion will stop him!” cried Niel, sharply; for, being himself
+a Romanist, he was not sorry to have an opportunity of alluding to the
+disqualifying element.
+
+“Say, rather, it will promote him,” chimed in Repton. “Take my word for
+it, Niel, there is a spirit of mawkish reparation abroad which affects
+to feel that all your coreligionists have a long arrear due to them, and
+that all the places and emoluments so long withheld from their ancestors
+should be showered down upon the present generation;--pretty much upon
+the same principle that you 'd pension a man now because his grandfather
+had been hanged for rebellion!”
+
+“And very justly, too, if you discovered that what you once called
+rebellion had been very good loyalty!” cried Niel.
+
+“We have not, however, made the discovery you speak of,” said Rep ton;
+“we have only commuted a sentence, in the sincere hope that you are
+wiser than your forefathers. But to come back. You may trust me when I
+say that a day is coming when you 'll not only bless yourself because
+you're a Papist, but that you _are_ one! Ay, sir, it is in 'Liffey
+Street Chapel' we 'll seek for an attorney-general, and out of the
+Church of the Conception, if that be the name of it, we 'll cull our law
+advisers of the Crown. For the next five-and-twenty years, at least,”
+ said he, solemnly, “the fourth-rate Catholic will be preferred to the
+first-rate Protestant.”
+
+“I only hope you may be better at Prophecy than you are in Logic,” cried
+Niel, as he tossed off his glass; “and so, I 'm sure, does Nelligan!”
+
+“And Nelligan is exactly the man who will never need the preference,
+sir. His abilities will raise him, even if there were obstacles to
+be surmounted. It is men of a different stamp that the system
+will favor,--fellows without industry for the toils of a laborious
+profession, or talents for the subtleties of a difficult career; men who
+cherish ambition and are yet devoid of capacity, and will plead the old
+disabilities of their faith,--pretty much as a man might claim his right
+to be thought a good dancer because his father had a club foot.”
+
+“A most lame conclusion!” cried Niel. “Ah, Rawlins,” added he, with much
+compassion, “our poor friend here is breaking terribly. Sad signs there
+are of decay about him. Even his utterance begins to fail him.”
+
+“No, no,” said Repton, gayly. “I know what you allude to. It is an
+old imperfection of mine not to be able to enunciate the letter _r_
+correctly, and that was the reason today in court that I called you my
+ingenious Bother; but I meant Brother, I assure you.”
+
+They all laughed good-humoredly at the old man's sally; in good truth,
+so trained were they to these sort of combats, that they cared little
+for the wounds such warfare inflicted. And although the tilt was ever
+understood as with “reversed lances,” none ever cherished an evil memory
+if an unlucky stroke smote too heavily.
+
+“I have asked young Nelligan to breakfast with me tomorrow,” said
+Repton; “will you both come and meet him?”
+
+“We 're off at cock-crow!” cried Kiel. “Tell him, however, from me that
+I am delighted with his _débuts_ and that all the best wishes of my
+friends and myself are with him.”
+
+And so they parted.
+
+Repton, however, did not retire to bed at once; his mind was still
+intent upon the subject which had engaged him during the day, and as
+he walked to and fro in his room, he still dwelt upon it. Scanlan's
+instructions had led him to believe that the Martins were in this case
+to have been “put upon their title;” and the formidable array of counsel
+employed by Magennis seemed to favor the impression. Now it was true
+that a trifling informality in the service of the writ had quashed the
+proceedings for the present; but the question remained, “Was the great
+struggle only reserved for a future day?”
+
+It was clear that a man embarrassed as was Magennis could never have
+retained that strong bar of eminent lawyers. From what fund, then, came
+these resources? Was there a combination at work? And if so, to what
+end, and with what object?
+
+The crafty old lawyer pondered long and patiently over these things.
+His feelings might not inaptly be compared to those of a commandant of
+a garrison, who sees his stronghold menaced by an enemy he had never
+suspected. Confident as he is in the resources of his position, he yet
+cannot resist the impression that the very threat of attack has been
+prompted by some weakness of which he is unaware.
+
+“To put us on our title,” said he, “implies a great war. Let us try and
+find out who and what are they who presume to declare it!”
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XV. A FIRST BRIEF
+
+The reader has been already told that Joe Nelligan had achieved a great
+success in his first case. A disputed point of law had been raised,
+in itself insignificant, but involving in its train a vast variety
+of momentous interests. Repton, with an ingenuity all his own, had
+contrived to draw the discussion beyond its original limits, that he
+might entangle and embarrass the ambitious junior who had dared to
+confute him. Nelligan accepted the challenge at once, and after a stormy
+discussion of some hours came out the victor. For a while his timid
+manner, and an overpowering sense of the great odds against him, seemed
+to weigh oppressively on him. The very successes he had won elsewhere
+were really so many disparagements to him now, giving promise, as it
+were, of his ability. But, despite all these disadvantages, he entered
+the lists manfully and courageously.
+
+What a many-sided virtue is this same courage, and how prone is the
+world to award its praises unequally for it! We are enthusiastic for the
+gallant soldier the earliest in the breach, or the glorious sailor who
+first jumps upon the enemy's quarter-deck, and yet we never dream of
+investing with heroism him who dares to combat with the most powerful
+intellects of debate, or enters the field of argument against minds
+stored with vast resources of knowledge, and practised in all the
+subtleties of disputation.
+
+It is time, existence is not in the issue; but are there not things a
+thousand times dearer than life at peril? Think of him who has gone on
+from success to success; whose school triumphs have but heralded the
+riper glories of college life; who, rising with each new victory,
+is hailed by that dearest and best of all testimonies,--the prideful
+enthusiasm of his own age. Fancy him, the victor in every struggle,
+who has carried all before him,--the vaunted chief of his
+contemporaries,--fancy him beaten and worsted on his first real field of
+action. Imagine such a man, with all the prestige of his college fame,
+rudely encountered and overcome in the contest of public life, and say
+if any death ever equalled the suffering!
+
+Happily, our task has not to record any such failure in the present
+case. Young Nelligan sat down amidst the buzzing sound of approving
+voices, and received a warm eulogy from the Court on the promise of so
+conspicuous an opening. And a proud man was Dan Nelligan on that day!
+At any other time how deeply honored had he felt by the distinguished
+notice of the great dignitaries who now congratulated him on his son's
+success! With what pride had he accepted the polite recognition of Chief
+Barons and silk-gowned “leaders”! Now, however, his heart had but room
+for one thought,--Joe himself,--his own boy,--the little child as it
+were of yesterday, now a man of mark and note, already stamped with the
+impress of success in what, to every Irishman's heart at least, is the
+first of all professions. The High Sheriff shook old Nelligan's hand in
+open court, and said, “It is an honor to our county, Nelligan, to
+claim him.” The Judge sent a message that he wished to see him in his
+robing-room, and spoke his warm praises of the “admirable speech, as
+remarkable for its legal soundness as for its eloquence;” and Repton
+overtook him in the street, and, catching his hand, said, “Be proud of
+him, sir, for we are all proud of him.”
+
+Mayhap the hope is not a too ambitious one, that some one of those who
+may glance over these humble lines may himself have once stood in the
+position of Joe Nelligan, in so far as regards the hour of his triumph,
+and have felt in his heart the ecstasy of covering with his fame the
+“dear head” of a father.
+
+If so, I ask him boldly,--whatever may have been the high rewards of
+his later fire, whatever honors may have been showered upon him, however
+great his career, and however brilliant its recognitions,--has he ever,
+in his proudest moments, tasted such a glorious thrill of delight as
+when he has fallen into his father's arms overcome by the happiness that
+he has made that father proud of him? Oh, ye who have experienced this
+thrill of joy within you, cherish and preserve it. The most glowing
+eulogies of eloquence, the most ornate paragraphs of a flattering press,
+are sorry things in comparison to it. For ourselves, we had rather have
+been Joe Nelligan when, with his father's warm tears dimming his eyes,
+he said, “God bless you, my boy!” than have gained all the honors that
+even talents like his can command!
+
+He could not bear to absent himself from home that day; and although his
+father would gladly have celebrated his triumph by gathering his friends
+about him, Joe entreated that they might be alone. And they were so. The
+great excitement of the day over, a sense of weariness, almost sadness,
+stole over the young man; and while his father continued to relate for
+his mother's hearing various little incidents of the trial, he listened
+with a half-apathetic dreaminess, as though the theme oppressed him. The
+old man dwelt with delight on the flattering attention bestowed by the
+Court on Joseph's address, the signs of concurrence vouchsafed from time
+to time by the Bench, the approving murmur of the Bar while he spoke,
+and then the honest outburst of enthusiasm that shook the very walls as
+he concluded. “I tried,” continued Dan Nelligan,--“I tried to force my
+way through the crowd, and come and tell you that he had gained the day,
+but I couldn't; they were all around me, shaking my hands, patting me on
+the shoulders, and saying, as if I did n't know it in my own heart, 'He
+'ll make you a proud man yet, Mr. Nelligan.'”
+
+“I heard it all, five minutes after it was over,” said Mrs. Nelligan;
+“and you 'd never guess who told me.”
+
+“Counsellor Walsh,” cried Nelligan.
+
+“No, indeed; I never seen him.”
+
+“It was Hosey Lynch, then, for I saw him running like mad through the
+town, spreading the news everywhere.”
+
+“It was not Hosey,” said she, half contemptuously. “I wish, Joe, you'd
+give a guess yourself who told me.”
+
+“Guess, mother,--guess who told you what?” said he, suddenly starting
+from some deep meditation.
+
+
+“Who told me that you won the cause, and beat all the great counsellors
+from Dublin.”
+
+“I'm sure, mother, it would be hard for me to say,” said Joseph, smiling
+faintly; “some of our kind townsfolk, perhaps. Father Neal, old Peter
+Hayes, or--”
+
+“I'll just tell you at once,” broke she in, half irritated at the
+suggested source of her information. “It was Miss Mary herself, and no
+other.”
+
+“Miss Martin!” exclaimed old Nelligan.
+
+“Miss Mary Martin!” echoed Joe; while a sickly paleness crept over his
+features, and his lips trembled as he spoke.
+
+“How came you to see her? Where was she?” asked Nelligan, eagerly.
+
+“I 'll tell you,” replied she, with all the methodical preparation by
+which she heralded in the least important communications,--“I 'll tell
+you. I was sitting here, working at the window, and wondering when the
+trial would be over, for the goose that was for dinner was too near the
+fire, and I said to myself--”
+
+“Never mind what you said to yourself,--confound the goose,” broke in
+old Dan, fiercely.
+
+“Faith, then, I 'd like to know if you 'd be pleased to eat your dinner
+on the cold loin of veal--”
+
+“But Miss Martin, mother,--Miss Martin,” urged Joe, impatiently.
+
+“I'm coming to her, if you'll let me; but when you flurry me and
+frighten me, I 'm ready to faint. It was last Candlemas you gave me a
+start, Dan, about--what was it, now? Lucky Mason's dog, I believe. No,
+it was the chimney took fire--”
+
+“Will you just go back to Miss Martin, if you please,” said old
+Nelligan, sternly.
+
+“I wish I knew where I was,--what I was saying last,” said she, in a
+tone of deep sorrow and contrition.
+
+“You were going to say how Miss Mary told you all about the trial,
+mother,” said Joe, taking her hand kindly within his own.
+
+“Yes, darling; now I remember it all. I was sitting here at the window
+hemming them handkerchiefs of yours, and I heard a sharp sound of a
+horse coming along quick, and, by the way he cantered, I said to myself,
+'I know _you_,' and, sure enough, when I opened the window, there she
+was, Miss Mary herself, all dripping with wet, and her hat flattened on
+her face, at the door.
+
+“'Don't ask me to get down, Mrs. Nelligan,' said she, 'for I'm in a
+great hurry. I have to ride out to Kilkieran with this'--and she showed
+me a bottle she had in the pocket of her saddle. 'I only called to tell
+you that your son has gained another--' What was it she called it?--a
+victory, or a battle,--no, it was something else--”
+
+“Never mind--go on,” cried Joe; “and then?”
+
+“'But, my dear Miss Mary,' says I, 'you 're wet through and through.
+It's more than your life's worth to go off now another ten miles. I'll
+send our gossoon, Mickey Slater, with the medicine, if you 'll just come
+in and stay with us.' I did n't say to dinner, for I was ashamed to ask
+her to that.
+
+“'I should be delighted, Mrs. Nelligan,' said she, 'but it is impossible
+to-day. I 'd have stayed and asked you for my dinner,'--her very
+words,--'asked you for my dinner, but I have promised poor Mat Landy to
+go back to him. But perhaps it is as well as it is; and my aunt Dorothy
+might say, if she heard of it, that it was a strange choice I had made
+of a festive occasion,--the day on which we were beaten, and the society
+of him that worsted us.'
+
+“'Oh, but, Miss Mary,' says I, 'sure you don't think the worse of poor
+Joe--'
+
+“'I never thought more highly of him, my dear Mrs. Nelligan,' said
+she, 'than at this moment; and, whatever others may say or think, I'll
+maintain my opinion, that he is a credit to us all. Good-bye! good-bye!'
+and then she turned short round, and said, 'I can't answer for how
+my uncle may feel about what has occurred to-day, but you know _my_
+sentiments. Farewell!' And with that she was off; indeed, before I had
+time to shut down the window, she was out of sight and away.”
+
+“She ought to know, and she will know, that Joe never said one hard
+thing of her family. And though he had in his brief enough to tempt him
+to bring the Martins up for judgment, not a word, not a syllable did he
+utter.” This old Nelligan spoke with a proud consciousness of his son's
+honorable conduct.
+
+“Good heavens!” exclaimed Joe, “is it not enough that a man sells his
+intellect, pawns his capacity, and makes traffic of his brains, without
+being called on to market his very nature, and set up his very emotions
+for sale? If my calling demands this at my hands, I have done with
+it,--I renounce it.”
+
+“But I said you refrained, Joe. I remarked that you would not suffer the
+heat of discussion to draw you into an angry attack--”
+
+“And you praise me for it!” broke in Joe, passionately. “You deem it an
+occasion to compliment me, that, in defending the cause of a worthless
+debauchee, I did not seize with avidity the happy moment to assail
+an honorable gentleman; and not alone you, but a dozen others,
+congratulated me on this reserve,--this constraint,--as though the
+lawyer were but a bravo, and, his stiletto once paid for, he must
+produce the body of his victim. I regard my profession in another and
+a higher light; but if even its practice were the noblest that could
+engage human faculties, and its rewards the highest that could crown
+them, I'd quit it tomorrow, were its price to be the sacrifice of an
+honorable self-esteem and the regard of--of those we care for.” And in
+the difficult utterance of the last words his cheek became crimson, and
+his lip trembled.
+
+“I 'll tell you what you 'll do, Joe,” said his mother, whose kindness
+was not invariably distinguished by tact,--“just come over with _me_
+to-morrow to Cro' Martin. I 'm going to get slips of the oak-leaf
+geranium and the dwarf rose, and we 'll just go together in a friendly
+way, and when we 're there you 'll have some opportunity or other to
+tell Miss Mary that it wasn't your fault for being against them.”
+
+“He 'll do no such thing,” broke in Nelligan, fiercely. “Miss Mary
+Martin wants no apologies,--her family have no right to any. Joe is a
+member of a high and powerful profession. If he does n't fill as great a
+place now, who knows where he 'll not be this day fifteen years, eh, my
+boy? Maybe I 'll not be here to see,--indeed, it's more than likely I
+'ll not,--but I know it now. I feel as sure of it as I do that my name
+'s Dan.”
+
+“And if you are not to see it, father,” said Joe, as he pressed his
+father's hand between both his own,--“you and my dearest mother,--the
+prize will be nigh valueless. If I cannot, when my reward is won, come
+home,--to such a home as this,--the victory will be too late.” And so
+saying he rose abruptly, and hurried from the room. The moment after he
+had locked his door, and, flinging himself upon his bed, buried his face
+between his hands.
+
+With all the proud sensations of having achieved a great success, his
+heart was heavily oppressed. It seemed to him as though Destiny had
+decreed that his duty should ever place him in antagonism to his
+affections. Up to a short period before this trial came on he had
+frequently been in Miss Martin's company. Now, it was some trifling
+message for his mother; now, some book he had himself promised to
+fetch her; then visits to the sick--and Joe, latterly, had taken a most
+benevolent turn--had constantly brought them together; and often, when
+Mary was on foot, Joe had accompanied her to the gates of the demesne.
+In these meetings one subject usually occupied them,--the sad condition
+of the country, the destitution of the poor,--and on this theme their
+sympathies and hopes and fears all agreed. It was not only that they
+concurred in their views of the national character, but that they
+attributed its traits of good or evil to the very same causes; and while
+Nelligan was amazed at finding the daughter of a proud house deeply
+conversant with the daily life of the humblest peasant, she, too,
+was astonished how sincere in his respect for rank, how loyal in
+his devotion to the claims of blood, was one whose birth might have
+proclaimed him a democrat and a destroyer.
+
+These daily discussions led them closer and closer to each other, till
+at length confidences grew up between them, and Mary owned to many of
+the difficulties that her lone and solitary station exposed her to.
+Many things were done on the property without--some in direct opposition
+to--her concurrence. As she once said herself, “We are so ready to
+satisfy our consciences by assuming that whatever we may do legally
+we have a right to do morally, and at the same time, in the actual
+condition of Ireland, what is just may be practically the very heaviest
+of all hardships.” This observation was made with reference to some law
+proceedings of Scanlan's instituting, and the day after she chanced to
+make it Joe started for Dublin. It was there that Magennis's attorney
+had sent him the brief in that cause,--a charge which the etiquette of
+his profession precluded his declining.
+
+In what way he discharged the trust we have seen,--what sorrow it cost
+him is more than we can describe. “Miss Martin,” thought he, “would know
+nothing of the rules which prescribe our practice, and will look upon my
+conduct here as a treason. For weeks long she has conversed with me in
+candor over the state of the county and its people; we separate for a
+few days, and she finds me arrayed with others against the interests of
+her family, and actually paid to employ against her the very knowledge
+she has imparted to me! What a career have I chosen,” cried he, in his
+agony, “if every success is to be purchased at such a price!” With such
+men as Magennis he had nothing in common; their society, their habits,
+their opinions were all distasteful to him, and yet it was for him and
+his he was to sacrifice the dearest hope of his heart,--to lose the good
+esteem of one whose praise he had accounted more costly than the highest
+distinction a sovereign could bestow on him. “And what a false position
+mine!” cried he again. “Associated by the very closest ties with a party
+not one of whose objects have my sympathies, I see myself separated by
+blood, birth, and station from all that I venerate and respect. I must
+either be a traitor to my own or to myself; declare my enmity to all I
+think most highly of, or suffer my motives to be impugned and my fame
+tarnished.”
+
+There was, indeed, one circumstance in this transaction which displeased
+him greatly, and of which he was only aware when too late. The Magennis
+defence had been “got up” by a subscription,--a fund to which Joseph's
+own father had contributed. Amongst the machinery of attack upon the
+landed gentry, Father Neal Rafferty had suggested the expediency
+of “putting them on their titles” in cases the most trivial and
+insignificant. Forfeiture and confiscation had followed each other so
+frequently in Irish history,--grants and revocations were so mixed
+up together,--some attested in all formality, others irregular and
+imperfect,--that it was currently believed there was scarcely one single
+estate of the whole province could establish a clear and indisputable
+title. The project was, therefore, a bold one which, while disturbing
+the rights of property, should also bring under discussion so many vexed
+questions of English rule and tyranny over the Irish. Libraries and
+cabinets were ransacked for ancient maps of the counties; and old
+records were consulted to ascertain how far the original conditions of
+service, and so forth, had been complied with on which these estates
+were held.
+
+Joseph had frequently carried home books from the library of Cro'
+Martin, rare and curious volumes, which bore upon the ancient history of
+the country. And now there crossed him the horrible suspicion that the
+whole scheme of this attack might be laid to his charge, the information
+to substantiate which he had thus surreptitiously-obtained. It was clear
+enough, from what his mother had said, that such was not Miss Martin's
+present impression; but who could say what representations might be made
+to her, and what change effected in her sentiments? “And this,” cried
+he, in indignation--“and this is the great career I used to long
+for!--this the broad highway I once fancied was to lead me to honor
+and distinction! Or is it, after all, my own fault, for endeavoring
+to reconcile two-things which never can have any agreement,--an humble
+origin and high aspirings? Were I an Englishman, the difficulty would
+not be impassable; but here, in Ireland, the brand of a lowly fortune
+and a despised race is upon me. Can I--dare I resist it?”
+
+A long and arduous conflict was that in which he passed the night,--now
+inclining to abandon his profession forever, now to leave Ireland
+and join the English or some Colonial Bar; and at length, as day was
+breaking, and as though the fresh morning air which now blew upon him
+from his open window had given fresh energy to his nature, he determined
+he would persist in his career in his own country. “_My_ fate shall be
+an example or a warning!” cried he. “They who come after me shall know
+whether there be rewards within reach of honest toil and steady industry
+without the contamination of a mock patriotism! If I _do_ rise, it shall
+be from no aid derived from a party or a faction; and if I fail, I bring
+no discredit upon 'my order.'”
+
+There are men who can so discipline their minds that they have but to
+establish a law to their actions to make their whole lives “a system.”
+ Such individuals the Germans not inaptly call “self-contained men,” and
+of these was Joe Nelligan one.
+
+A certain concentration of his faculties, and the fatigues of a whole
+night passed thus in thought, gave a careworn, exhausted look to his
+features as he entered the room where Repton sat awaiting him for
+breakfast.
+
+“I see what's the matter with you,” said the old lawyer, as he entered.
+“You have passed the night after a 'first brief.' This day ten years
+you'll speak five hours before the Lords 'in error,' and never lose a
+wink of sleep after it's over!”
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVI. MR. REPTON LOOKS IN
+
+On the day after that some of whose events we have just recorded, and
+towards nightfall, Mary Martin slowly drove along the darkly wooded
+avenue of Cro' Martin. An unusual sadness overweighed her. She was just
+returning from the funeral of poor old Mat Landy, one of her oldest
+favorites as a child. He it was who first taught her to hold an oar;
+and, seated beside him, she first learned to steer a “corragh” through
+the wild waves of the Atlantic. His honest, simple nature, his fine
+manly contentedness with a very humble lot, and a cheerful gayety of
+heart that seemed never to desert him, were all traits likely to impress
+such a child as she had been and make his companionship a pleasure. With
+a heavy heart was it, therefore, now that she thought over these things,
+muttering to herself as she went along snatches of the old songs he used
+to sing, and repeating mournfully the little simple proverbs he would
+utter about the weather.
+
+The last scene itself had been singularly mournful. Two fishermen of the
+coast alone accompanied the car which bore the coffin; death or sickness
+was in every house; few could be spared to minister to the dead, and
+even of those, the pale shrunk features and tottering limbs bespoke how
+dearly the duty cost them. Old Mat had chosen for his last resting-place
+a little churchyard that crowned a cliff over the sea,--a wild, solitary
+spot,--an old gable, a ruined wall, a few low gravestones, and no more.
+The cliff itself, rising abruptly from the sea to some four hundred
+feet, was perforated with the nests of sea-fowl, whose melancholy cries,
+as they circled overhead, seemed to ring out a last requiem. There it
+was they now laid him. Many a time from that bleak summit had he lighted
+a beacon fire to ships in distress.
+
+Often and often, from that same spot, had he gazed out over the sea,
+to catch signs of those who needed succor, and now that bold heart was
+still and that strong arm stiffened, and the rough, deep voice that used
+to sound above the tempest, silent forever.
+
+[Illustration: 188]
+
+“Never mind, Patsey,” said Mary, to one of the fishermen, who was
+endeavoring with some stray fragments of a wreck to raise a little
+monument over the spot, “I'll look to that hereafter.” And so saying,
+she turned mournfully away to descend the cliff. A stranger, wrapped in
+a large boat-cloak, had been standing for some time near the place; and
+as Mary left it, he drew nigh and asked who she was.
+
+“Who would she be?” said the fisherman, gruffly, and evidently in no
+humor to converse.
+
+“A wife, or a daughter, perhaps?” asked the other again.
+
+“Neither one nor the other,” replied the fisherman.
+
+“It is Miss Mary, sir,--Miss Martin,--God bless her!” broke in the
+other; “one that never deserts the poor, living or dead. Musha! but
+she's what keeps despair out of many a heart!”
+
+“And has she come all this way alone?” asked he.
+
+“What other way could she come, I wonder?” said the man he had first
+addressed. “Did n't they leave her there by herself, just as if she was
+n't belonging to them? They were kinder to old Henderson's daughter than
+to their own flesh and blood.”
+
+“Hush, Jerry, hush!--she 'll hear you,” cried the other. And saluting
+the stranger respectfully, he began to follow down the cliff.
+
+“Are there strangers stopping at the inn?” asked Mary, as she saw lights
+gleaming from some of the windows as she passed.
+
+“Yes, miss, there's him that was up there at the churchyard--ye didn't
+remark him, maybe--and one or two more.”
+
+“I did not notice him,” said Mary; and, wishing the men good-night, set
+out homeward. So frequent were the halts she made at different cabins as
+she drove along, so many times was she stopped to give a word of advice
+or counsel, that it was already duskish as she reached Cro' Martin,
+and found herself once more near home. “You're late with the post this
+evening, Billy,” said she, overtaking the little fellow who carried the
+mail from Oughterard.
+
+“Yes, miss, there was great work sortin' the letters that came in this
+morning, for I believe there's going to be another election; at least I
+heard Hosey Lynch say it was all about that made the bag so full.”
+
+“I 'm sorry for it, Billy,” said she. “We have enough to think of,
+ay, and troubles enough, too, not to need the strife and bitterness of
+another contest amongst us.”
+
+“Thrue for ye, miss, indeed,” rejoined Billy. '“Tis wishing them far
+enough I am, them same elections; the bag does be a stone heavier every
+day till it's over.”
+
+“Indeed!” said Mary, half smiling at the remark.
+
+“Thrue as I 'm here, miss. I would n't wonder if it was the goold for
+bribin' the chaps makes it weigh so much.”
+
+“And is there any other news stirring in the town, Billy?”
+
+“Next to none, miss. They were talkin' of putting up ould Nelligan's son
+for the mimber; and more says the Magennis of Barnagheela will stand.”
+
+“A most excellent choice that would be, certainly,” said Mary, laughing.
+
+“Faix! I heerd of another that wasn't much better, miss.”
+
+“And who could that be?” asked Mary, in astonishment.
+
+“But sure you'd know better than me, if it was thrue, more by token it
+would be the master's own orders.”
+
+“I don't understand you, Billy.”
+
+“I mean, miss, that it's only his Honer, Mr. Martin, could have the
+power to make Maurice Scanlan a Parlimint man.”
+
+“And has any one hinted at such a possibility?” said she, in
+astonishment.
+
+“Indeed, then, it was the talk of the market this mornin', and many a
+one said he's the very fellow would get in.”
+
+“Is he such a general favorite in Oughterard?”
+
+“I'm not sure it's that, miss,” said Billy, thoughtfully.
+
+“Maybe some likes him, and more is afraid of him; but he himself knows
+everybody and everybody's business. He can raise the rent upon this man,
+take it off that; 'tis his word can make a barony-constable or one of
+the watch. They say he has the taxes, too, in his power, and can cess
+you just as he likes. Be my conscience, he 's all as one as the Prime
+Minister.”
+
+Just as Billy had delivered this sage reflection they had reached the
+hall door, where, having consigned the letter-bag to the hands of a
+servant, he turned his steps to the kitchen, to take an “air of the
+fire” before he set out homeward. Mary Martin had not advanced many
+steps within the hall when both her hands were cordially grasped, and a
+kind voice, which she at once recognized as Mr. Repton's, said, “Here
+I am, my dear Miss Martin; arrived in time, too, to welcome you home
+again. You paid me a visit yesterday--”
+
+“Yes,” broke she in; “but you were shaking your ambrosial curls at the
+time, browbeating the bench, or cajoling the jury, or something of that
+sort.”
+
+“That I was; but I must own with scant success. You 've heard how that
+young David of Oughterard slew the old Goliath of Dublin? Well, shall
+I confess it? I'm glad of it. I feel proud to think that the crop of
+clever fellows in Ireland is flourishing, and that when I, and a dozen
+like me, pass away, our places will be filled by others that will keep
+the repute of our great profession high in the public estimation.”
+
+“This is worthy of you, sir,” cried Mary, pressing the arm ahe leaned on
+more closely.
+
+“And now, my dear Miss Mary,” said he, as they entered the
+drawing-room,--“now that I have light to look at you, let me make
+my compliments on your appearance. Handsomer than ever, I positively
+declare. They told me in the town that you half killed yourself with
+fatigue; that you frequently were days long on horseback, and nights
+watching by sick-beds; but if this be the result, benevolence is indeed
+its own reward.”
+
+“Ah, my dear Mr. Repton, I see you do not keep all your flatteries for
+the jury-box.”
+
+“My moments are too limited here to allow me time for an untruth. I
+must be off; to-night I have a special retainer for a great record at
+Roscommon, and at this very instant I should be poring over deeds
+and parchments, instead of gazing at 'orbs divinely blue;' not but, I
+believe, now that I look closer, yours are hazel.”
+
+“Let me order dinner, then, at once,” said she, approaching the bell.
+
+“I have done that already, my dear,” said he, gayly; “and what is more,
+I have dictated the bill of fare. I guessed what a young lady's simple
+meal might be, and I have been down to the cook, and you shall see the
+result.”
+
+“Then it only remains for me to think of the cellar. What shall it be,
+sir? The Burgundy that you praised so highly last winter, or the Port
+that my uncle preferred to it?”
+
+“I declare that I half suspect your uncle was right. Let us move for a
+new trial, and try both over again,” said he, laughing, as she left the
+room.
+
+“Just to think of such a girl in such a spot,” cried he to himself, as
+he walked alone, up and down the room; “beauty, grace, fascination,--all
+that can charm and attract; and then, such a nature, childlike in
+gayety, and chivalrous,--ay, chivalrous as a chevalier!”
+
+“I see, sir, you are rehearsing for Roscommon,” said Mary, who entered
+the room while he was yet declaiming alone; “but I must interrupt you,
+for the soup is waiting.”
+
+“I obey the summons,” said he tendering his arm. And they both entered
+the dinner-room.
+
+So long as the meal lasted, Repton's conversation was entirely devoted
+to such topics as he might have discussed at a formal dinner-party. He
+talked of the world of society, its deaths, births, and marriages; its
+changes of place and amusement. He narrated the latest smart things that
+were going the round of the clubs, and hinted at the political events
+that were passing. But the servants gone, and the chairs drawn closer
+to the blazing hearth, his tone changed at once, and in a voice of
+tremulous kindness he said,--“I can't bear to think of the solitude of
+this life of yours!--nay, hear me out. I say this, not for _you_, since
+in the high devotion of a noble purpose you are above all its penalties;
+but I cannot endure to think that _we_ should permit it.”
+
+“First of all,” said Mary, rapidly, “what you deem solitude is scarcely
+such; each day is so filled with its duties, that when I come back here
+of an evening, it often happens that my greatest enjoyment is the very
+sense of isolation that awaits me. Do you know,” added she, “that
+very often the letter-bag lies unopened by me till morning? And as to
+newspapers, there they lie in heaps, their covers unbroken to this hour.
+Such is actually the case to-day. I haven't read my letters yet.”
+
+“I read mine in my bed,” cried Repton. “I have them brought to me by
+candlelight in winter, and I reflect over all the answers while I am
+dressing. Some of the sharpest things I have ever said have occurred to
+me while I was shaving; not,” added he, hastily, “but one's really
+best things are always impromptu. Just as I said t' other day to the
+Viceroy,--a somewhat felicitous one. He was wishing that some historian
+would choose for his subject the lives of Irish Lord-Lieutenants;
+not, he remarked, in a mere spirit of party, or with the levity of
+partisanship, but in a spirit becoming the dignity of history,--such
+as Hume himself might have done. 'Yes, my Lord,' I replied, 'your
+observation is most just; it should be a continuation of Rapine.' Eh! it
+was a home-thrust, wasn't it?--'a continuation of Rapine.'” And the old
+man laughed till his eyes ran over.
+
+“Do these great folk ever thoroughly forgive such things?” asked Mary.
+
+“My dear child, their self-esteem is so powerful they never feel them;
+and even when they do, the chances are that they store them up in their
+memories, to retail afterwards as their own. I have detected my own
+stolen property more than once; but always so damaged by wear, and
+disfigured by ill-usage, that I never thought of reclaiming it.”
+
+“The affluent need never fret for a little robbery,” said Mary, smiling.
+
+“Ay, but they may like to be the dispensers of their own riches,”
+ rejoined Repton, who never was happier than when able to carry out
+another's illustration.
+
+“Is Lord Reckington agreeable?” asked Mary, trying to lead him on to any
+other theme than that of herself.
+
+“He is eminently so. Like all men of his class, he makes more of a small
+stock in trade than we with our heads full can ever pretend to. Such men
+talk well, for they think fluently. Their tact teaches them the popular
+tone on every subject, and they have the good sense never to rise above
+it.”
+
+“And Massingbred, the secretary, what of him?”
+
+“A very well-bred gentleman, strongly cased in the triple armor of
+official dulness. Such men converse as stupid whist-players play
+cards; they are always asking to 'let them see the last trick;' and the
+consequence is they are ever half an hour behind the rest of the world.
+Ay, Miss Mary, and this is an age where one must never be half a second
+in arrear. This is really delicious Port; and now that the Burgundy is
+finished, I think I prefer it. Tell Martin I said so when you write to
+him. I hope the cellar is well stocked with it.”
+
+“It was so when my uncle went away, but I fear I have made great inroads
+upon it. It was my chief remedy with the poor.”
+
+“With the poor! such wine as this,--the richest grape that ever purpled
+over the Douro! Do you tell me that you gave this to these--Heaven
+forgive me, what am I saying? Of course you gave it; you gave them
+what was fifty times more precious,--the kind ministerings of your own
+angelic nature, the soft words and soft looks and smiles that a prince
+might have knelt for. I 'm not worthy to drink another glass of it,”
+ added he, as he pushed the decanter from him towards the centre of the
+table.
+
+“But you shall, though,” said Mary, filling his glass, “and it shall be
+a bumper to my health.”
+
+“A toast I'd stake my life for,” said he, reverently, as he lifted her
+hand to his lips and kissed it with all the deference of a courtier.
+“And now,” added he, refilling his glass, “I drink this to the worthy
+fellow whose portrait is before me; and may he soon come back again.”
+ He arose as he spoke, and giving his hand to Mary, led her into the
+drawing-room. “Ay, my dear Miss Mary,” said he, following up the theme
+in his own thoughts, “it is here your uncle ought to be. When the army
+is in rout and dismay, the general's presence is the talisman that
+restores discipline. Everything around us at this moment is full of
+threatening danger. The catalogue of the assizes is a dark record; I
+never saw its equal, no more have I ever witnessed anything to compare
+with the dogged indifference of the men arraigned. The Irishman is half
+a fatalist by nature; it will be an evil hour that makes him wholly
+one!”
+
+“But still,” said Mary, “you 'd scarcely counsel his return here at this
+time. The changes that have taken place would fret him deeply, not to
+speak of even worse!”
+
+She delivered the last few words in a voice broken and trembling; and
+Repton, turning quickly towards her, said,--“I know what you point at:
+the irritated feeling of the people, and that insolent menace they dared
+to affix to his own door.”
+
+“You heard of that, then?” cried she, eagerly.
+
+“To be sure, I heard of it; and I heard how your own hands tore it down,
+and riding with it into the midst of them at Kiltimmon market, you said,
+'I 'll give five hundred pounds to him who shows me who did this, and I
+'ll forfeit five hundred more if I do not horsewhip the coward from the
+county.'”
+
+Mary hid her face within her hands; but closely as she pressed them
+there, the warm tears would force their way through, and fall, dropping
+on her bosom.
+
+“You are a noble girl,” cried he, in ecstasy; “and in all your
+great trials there is nothing finer than this, that the work of your
+benevolence has never been stayed by the sense of ill-requital, and you
+have never involved the character of a people in the foul crime of a
+miscreant.”
+
+“How could I so wrong them, sir?” broke she out. “Who better than myself
+can speak of their glorious courage, their patient resignation, their
+noble self-devotion? Has not the man, sinking under fever, crawled
+from his bed to lead me to the house of another deeper in misery than
+himself? Have I not seen the very poorest sharing the little alms
+bestowed upon their wretchedness? Have I not heard the most touching
+words of gratitude from lips growing cold in death? You may easily
+show me lands of greater comfort, where the blessings of wealth and
+civilization are more widely spread; but I defy you to point to any
+where the trials of a whole people have been so great and so splendidly
+sustained.”
+
+“I'll not ask the privilege of reply,” said Repton; “perhaps I 'd rather
+be convinced by you than attempt to gainsay one word of your argument.”
+
+“At your peril, sir,” said she, menacing him with her finger, while a
+bright smile lit up her features.
+
+“The chaise is at the door, sir,” said a servant, entering and
+addressing Repton.
+
+“Already!” exclaimed he. “Why, my dear Miss Mary, it can't surely be
+eight o'clock. No; but,” added he, looking at his watch, “it only wants
+a quarter of ten, and I have not said one half of what I had to say, nor
+heard a fourth of what you had to tell me.”
+
+“Let the postboy put up his horses, William,” said Miss Martin, “and
+bring tea.”
+
+“A most excellent suggestion,” chimed in Repton. “Do you know, my dear,
+that we old bachelors never thoroughly appreciate all that we have
+missed in domesticity till we approach a tea-table. We surround
+ourselves with fifty mockeries of home-life; we can manage soft carpets,
+warm curtains, snug dinners, but somehow our cup of tea is a rude
+imitation that only depicts the inaccuracy of the copy. Without the
+priestess the tea-urn sings forth no incantation.”
+
+“How came it that Mr. Repton remained a Benedict?” asked she, gayly.
+
+“By the old accident, that he would n't take what he might have, and
+could n't get what he wished. Add to that,” continued he, after a pause,
+“when a man comes to a certain time of life without marrying, the world
+has given to him a certain place, assigned to him, as it were, a certain
+part which would be utterly marred by a wife. The familiarity of one's
+female acquaintance--the pleasantest spot in old bachelorhood--could n't
+stand such an ordeal; and the hundred-and-one eccentricities pardonable
+and pardoned in the single man would be condemned in the married one.
+You shake your head. Well, now, I 'll put it to the test. Would you, or
+could you, make me your confidant so unreservedly if there were such a
+person as Mrs. Repton in the world? Not a bit of it, my dear child. We
+old bachelors are the lay priests of society, and many come to us with
+confessions they 'd scruple about making to the regular authorities.”
+
+“Perhaps you are right,” said she, thoughtfully; “at all events, _I_
+should have no objection to you as my confessor.”
+
+“I may have to claim that promise one of these day yet,” said he,
+significantly. “Eh, here comes William again. Well, the postboy won't
+wait, or something has gone wrong. Eh, William, what is it?”
+
+“The boy's afraid, sir, if you don't go soon, that there will be no
+passing the river at Barnagheela,--the flood is rising every minute.”
+
+“And already the water is too deep,” cried Mary. “Give the lad his
+supper, William. Let him make up his cattle, and say that Mr. Repton
+remains here for the night.”
+
+“And Mr. Repton obeys,” said he, bowing; “though what is to become of
+'Kelly _versus_ Lenaham and another,' is more than I can say.”
+
+“They 'll have so many great guns, sir,” said Mary, laughing; “won't
+they be able to spare a twenty-four pounder?”
+
+“But I ought, at least, to appear in the battery, my dear. They 'll say
+that I stayed away on account of that young fellow Nelligan; he has a
+brief in that cause, and I know he 'd like another tussle with me. By
+the way, Miss Mary, that reminds me that I promised him to make his--no,
+not his excuses, he was too manly for that; but his--his explanations
+to you about yesterday's business. He was sorely grieved at the part
+assigned him; he spoke feelingly of all the attentions he once met at
+your uncle's hands, but far more so of certain kindnesses shown to
+his mother by yourself; and surmising that you might be unaware of the
+exacting nature of our bar etiquette, that leaves no man at liberty
+to decline a cause, he tortured himself inventing means to set himself
+right with you.”
+
+“But I know your etiquette, sir, and I respect it; and Mr. Nelligan
+never stood higher in my estimation than by his conduct of yesterday.
+You can tell him, therefore, that you saw there was no necessity to
+touch on the topic; it will leave less unpleasantness if we should meet
+again.”
+
+“What a diplomatist it is!” said Repton, smiling affectionately at her.
+“How successful must all this tact be when engaged with the people! Nay,
+no denial; you know in your heart what subtle devices it supplies you
+with.”
+
+“And yet, I 'm not so certain that what you call my diplomacy may not
+have involved me in some trouble,--at least, there is the chance of it.”
+
+“As how, my dear child?”
+
+“You shall hear, sir. You know the story of that poor girl at
+Barnagheela, whom they call Mrs. Magennis? Well, her old grandfather--as
+noble a heart as ever beat--had never ceased to pine after her fall. She
+had been the very light of his life, and he loved her on, through
+her sorrow, if not her shame, till, as death drew nigh him, unable to
+restrain his craving desire, he asked me to go and fetch her, to give
+her his last kiss and receive his last blessing. It was a task I had
+fain have declined, were such an escape open to me, but I could not. In
+a word, I went and did his bidding. She stayed with him till he breathed
+his last breath, and then--in virtue of some pledge I hear that she
+made him--she fled, no one knows whither. All trace of her is lost; and
+though I have sent messengers on every side, none have yet discovered
+her.”
+
+“Suicide is not the vice of our people,” said Repton, gravely.
+
+“I know that well, and the knowledge makes me hopeful. But what
+sufferings are yet before her, what fearful trials has she to meet!”
+
+“By Jove!” cried Repton, rising and pacing the room, “you have courage,
+young lady, that would do honor to a man. You brave the greatest perils
+with a stout-heartedness that the best of us could scarcely summon.”
+
+“But, in this case, the peril is not mine, sir.”
+
+“I am not so sure of that, Miss Mary,” said Repton, doubtingly,--“I
+'m not so sure of that.” And, with crossed arms and bent-down head, he
+paced the room slowly back and forwards. “Ay,” muttered he to himself,
+“Thursday night--Friday, at all events--will close the record. I can
+speak to evidence on the morning, and be back here again some time in
+the night. Of course it is a duty,--it is more than a duty.” Then he
+added, aloud, “There 's the moon breaking out, and a fine breezy sky. I
+'ll take the road, Miss Mary, and, with your good leave, I 'll drink tea
+with you on Friday evening. Nay, my dear, the rule is made absolute.”
+
+“I agree,” said she, “if it secures me a longer visit on your return.”
+
+A few moments afterwards saw Repton seated in the corner of his chaise,
+and hurrying onward at speed. His eyes soon closed in slumber, and as
+he sank off to rest, his lips murmured gently, “My Lord, in rising to
+address the Court, under circumstances of no ordinary difficulty, and in
+a case where vast interest, considerable influence, and, I may add--may
+add--” The words died away, and he was asleep.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVII. LADY DOROTHEA'S LETTER
+
+Though it was late when Repton took his departure, Mary Martin felt
+no inclination for sleep, but addressed herself at once to examine the
+letter bag, whose contents seemed more than usually bulky. Amid a mass
+of correspondence about the estate, she came at length upon the foreign
+letters, of which there were several from the servants to their friends
+or relations at Cro' Martin,--all, as usual, under cover to Miss Martin;
+and at last she found one in Lady Dorothea's own hand, for herself,--a
+very rare occurrence; nay, indeed, it was the first epistle her Ladyship
+had favored her with since her departure.
+
+It was not, then, without curiosity as to the cause that Mary broke the
+large seal and read as follows:--
+
+“Carlsruhe, Saturday Evening, Cour de Bade.
+
+“My dear Niece,--It was only yesterday, when looking over your uncle's
+papers, I chanced upon a letter of yours, dated some five or six weeks
+back, and which, to my great astonishment, I discovered had never been
+communicated to me,--though this mark of deficient confidence will
+doubtless seem less surprising to _you_.
+
+“To bring your letter to your mind, _I_ may observe it is one in which
+you describe the condition of the people on the estate, and the fatal
+inroads then making upon them by famine and pestilence. It is not my
+intention here to advert to what may possibly be a very natural error
+in your account,--the exaggerated picture you draw of their sufferings;
+your sympathy with them, and your presence to witness much of what they
+are enduring, will explain and excuse the highly colored statement of
+their sorrows. It were to be wished that an equally valid apology could
+be made for what I am forced to call the importunity of your demands in
+their favor. Five of your six last letters now before me are filled
+with appeals for abatements of rent, loans to carry out improvements,
+stipends for schoolmasters, doctors, scripture-readers, and a tribe of
+other hangers-on, that really seem to augment in number as the pauperism
+of the people increases. However ungracious the task of disparaging the
+accuracy of your view, I have no other alternative but to accept it, and
+hence I am forced to pen these lines myself in preference to committing
+the office to another.
+
+“It really seems to me that you regard our position as landed
+proprietors in the light of a mere stewardship, and that it is our
+bounden duty to expend upon the tenantry the proceeds of the estate,
+reserving a scanty percentage, perhaps, for ourselves to live upon. How
+you came to this opinion, and whence you acquired it, I have no means of
+knowing. If, however, it has been the suggestion of your own genius, it
+is right you should know that you hold doctrines in common with the most
+distinguished communists of modern times, and are quite worthy of a seat
+of honor beside those who are now convulsing society throughout Europe.
+
+“I am unwilling to utter anything like severity towards errors, many
+of which take their rise in a mistaken and ill-directed benevolence,
+because the original fault of committing the management of this property
+to your hands was the work of another. Let me hope that sincere sorrow
+for so fatal a mistake may not be the primary cause of his present
+attack--”
+
+When Mary read so far, she started with a sudden fear; and turning over
+the pages of the long letter, she sought for some allusion to her uncle.
+At length she found the following lines:--“Your cousin would have
+left this for Ireland, but for the sudden seizure your poor uncle has
+suffered from, and which came upon him after breakfast, in apparently
+his ordinary health. The entire of the left side is attacked,--the face
+particularly,--and his utterance quite inarticulate.”
+
+For some minutes she could read no more; the warm tears rolled down her
+cheeks and dropped heavily on the paper, and she could only mutter to
+herself, “My poor, dear uncle,--my last, my only friend in the world!”
+ Drying her eyes, with a great effort she read on:--
+
+“The remedies have been so far successful as to arrest the progress
+of the malady, and his appetite is good, and his spirits, everything
+considered, are excellent. Of course, all details of business are
+strictly excluded from his presence; and your cousin has assumed
+whatever authority is necessary to the management of the property. We
+thought at one time your presence here might have been desirable, but,
+considering the distance, the difficulty of travelling without suitable
+companionship, and other circumstances, it would, on the whole, be a
+step we should not recommend; and, indeed, your uncle himself has not
+expressed any wishes on the subject.”
+
+She dropped the letter at these words, and, covering her face with her
+hands, sobbed bitterly and long; at length, and with an effort which
+taxed her strength to the utmost, she read on:--
+
+“Although, however, you are to remain at Cro' Martin, it will be more
+than ever imperative you should reduce the establishment there within
+the very strictest possible limits; and to begin this-reform, I 'm fully
+assured it is necessary you should depose old Mrs. Broon, who is really
+incapable of her duties, while her long-acquired habits of expense
+render her incompatible with any new regulations to enforce economy. A
+moderate pension--something, however, in accordance with her real
+wants and requirements, rather than what might be called her
+expectations--should be settled upon her, and there are several farmers
+on the estate, any one of whom would gladly take charge of her. The
+gardens still figure largely in the account, and considering the very
+little probability of our makings the place a residence again, might
+be turned to more profitable use. You will confer with Henderson on
+the subject, and inquire how far it might be advisable to cultivate
+vegetables for market, or convert them into paddocks for calves, or,
+in short, anything which, if less remunerative, should still save the
+enormous outlay we now hear of I scarcely like to allude to the stable,
+knowing how much you lean to the enjoyment of riding and driving; but
+really these are times when retrenchment is called for at every hand;
+and I am persuaded that for purposes of health walking is infinitely
+better than carriage exercise. I know myself, that since I have taken to
+the habit of getting out of the carriage at the wells, and walking twice
+round the parterre, I feel myself braced and better for the day.
+
+“It is not improbable but when the changes I thus suggest, and others
+similar to them, are enacted, that you will see to what little purpose
+a large house is maintained for the mere accommodation of a single
+individual, without suitable means, or indeed any reason whatever, to
+dispense them. If then, I say, you should come to this conviction,--at
+which I have already arrived,--a very great saving might be effected
+by obtaining a tenant for Cro' Martin, while you, if still desirous of
+remaining in the county, might be most comfortably accommodated at the
+Hendersons'.”
+
+Three times did Mary Martin read over this passage before she could
+bring herself to believe in its meaning; and hot tears of sorrow coursed
+down her cheeks as she became assured of its import.
+
+“It is not,” went on the epistle--“it is not in your uncle's present
+most critical state that I could confer with him on this project,
+nor strengthen my advice by what most probably would be _his_ also. I
+therefore make the appeal simply to your own sense of what you may
+think in accordance with our greatly increased outlay and your own
+requirements. Should you receive this suggestion in the spirit in which
+it is offered, I think that both for your uncle's satisfaction and your
+own dignity, the proposal ought to come from yourself. You could make it
+to me in a letter, stating all the reasons in its favor, and of course
+not omitting to lay suitable stress upon the isolation of your present
+life, and the comfort and security you would derive from the protection
+of a family. Mrs. H. is really a very nice person, and her tastes and
+habits would render her most companionable; and she would, of course,
+make you an object of especial attention and respect. It is, besides,
+not impossible that the daughter may soon return--though this is a point
+I have not leisure to enter upon at present. A hundred a year would he a
+very handsome allowance for Henderson, and indeed for that sum he ought
+to keep your pony, if you still continue your taste for equipage. You
+would thus be more comfortable, and really richer,--that is, have
+more disposable means--than you have hitherto had. I forbear to insist
+further upon what--till it has your own approval--may be a vain advocacy
+on my part. I can only say, in conclusion, that in adopting this plan
+you would equally consult what is due to your own dignity, as what is
+required by your uncle's interests. Your cousin, I am forced to avow it,
+has been very silly, very inconsiderate, not alone in contracting heavy
+debts, but in raising large sums to meet them at fabulous rates of
+interest. The involvements threaten, from what I can gather, to imperil
+a considerable part of the estate, and we are obliged to send for
+Scanlan to come out here, and confer with him as to the means of
+extrication. I feel there is much to be said in palliation of errors
+which have their origin in high and generous qualities. Plantagenet
+was thrown at a very early age into the society of a most expensive
+regiment, and naturally contracted the tastes and habits around him.
+Poor fellow, he is suffering severely from the memory of these early
+indiscretions, and I see that nothing but a speedy settlement of his
+difficulties will ever restore him to his wonted spirits. You will thus
+perceive, that if my suggested change of life to you should not conform
+entirely to your wishes, that you are in reality only accepting your
+share of the sacrifices called for from each of us.
+
+“There are a great number of other matters on which I wished to
+touch,--some, indeed, are not exactly within your province, such as
+the political fortunes of the borough, whose seat Mr. Massingbred has
+determined to vacate. Although not admitting the reason for his conduct,
+I am strongly convinced that the step is a mere acknowledgment of
+an error on his part, and an effort, however late, at the _amende
+honorable_. The restitution, for so I am forced to regard it, comes most
+inopportunely, since it would be a most ill-chosen moment in which to
+incur the expense of a contested election; besides that, really your
+cousin has no desire whatever for Parliamentary honors. Plantagenet,
+however, would seem to have some especial intentions on the subject
+which he keeps secret, and has asked of Massingbred not to send off
+his farewell address to the constituency for some days. But I will not
+continue a theme so little attractive to you.
+
+“Dr. Schubart has just called to see your uncle. He is not altogether
+so satisfied with his state as I could have hoped; he advises change of
+scene, and a little more intercourse with the world, and we have some
+thought of Nice, if we cannot get on to Naples. Dr. S., to whom I spoke
+on the subject of your Irish miseries, tells me that cholera is now
+the most manageable of all maladies, if only taken early; that you must
+enjoin the persons attacked to a more liberal diet, no vegetables, and
+a sparing use of French wines, excepting, he says, the generous 'Vins du
+Midi.' There is also a mixture to be taken--of which he promised me
+the prescription--and a pill every night of arnica or aconite--I 'm not
+quite certain which--but it is a perfect specific. He also adds, what
+must be felt as most reassuring, that the disease never attacks but the
+very poorest of the population. As to typhus, he smiled when I spoke
+of it. It is, he says, a mere 'Gastrite,' a malady which modern science
+actually despises. In fact, my dear niece, these would seem, like all
+other Irish misfortunes, the mere offshoots of her own dark ignorance
+and barbarism. If it were not for the great expense--and of course that
+consideration decides the question--I should have requested you to send
+over your doctor here to confer with Dr. Schubart. Indeed, I think
+it might be a very reasonable demand to make of the Government, but
+unhappily my present 'relations' with my relative Lord Reckington
+preclude any advances of mine in that quarter.
+
+“I was forgetting to add that, with respect to cholera, and indeed fever
+generally, that Dr. S. lays great stress upon what he calls the moral
+treatment of the people, amusing their minds by easily learned games and
+simple pleasures. I fear me, however, that the coarser natures of our
+population may not derive adequate amusement from the resources which
+would have such eminent success with the enlightened peasant of the
+Rhine land. Dr. S., I may remark, is a very distinguished writer on
+politics, and daily amazes us with the astounding speculations he is
+forming as to the future condition of Europe. His conviction is that our
+great peril is Turkey, and that Mohammedanism will be the religion
+of Europe before the end of the present century. Those new baths
+established at Brighton by a certain Hamet are a mere political agency,
+a secret propaganda, which his acuteness has alone penetrated. Miss
+Henderson has ventured to oppose these views with something not very far
+from impertinent ridicule, and for some time back, Dr. S. only discusses
+them with myself alone.
+
+“I had left the remainder of the sheet for any intelligence that might
+occur before post hour, but I am suddenly called away, and shall close
+it at once. When I was sitting with your uncle awhile ago, I _half_
+broached the project I was suggesting to you, and he seemed highly to
+approve of so much as I ventured to tell him. Nothing then is wanting
+but your own concurrence to make it as practicable as it is deemed
+advisable by your affectionate aunt,
+
+“Dorothea Martin.”
+
+
+The eccentricities of her aunt's character had always served as
+extenuating circumstances with Mary Martin. She knew the violence of
+her prejudices, the enormous amount of her self-esteem, and the facility
+with which she was ever able to persuade herself that whatever she
+wished to do assumed at once all the importance and gravity of a duty!
+This thorough appreciation of her peculiarities enabled Mary to bear
+up patiently under many sore trials and some actual wrongs. Where the
+occasion was a light one, she could afford to smile at such trials, and,
+even in serious cases, they palliated the injustice; but here was an
+instance wherein all her forgiveness was in vain. To take the moment of
+her poor uncle's illness--that terrible seizure, which left him without
+self-guidance, if even a will--to dictate these hard and humiliating
+terms, was a downright cruelty. Nor did it diminish the suffering which
+that letter cost her that its harsh conditions seemed dictated by a
+spirit of contempt for Ireland and its people. As Mary re-read the
+letter, she felt that every line breathed this tone of depreciation. It
+was to her Ladyship a matter of less than indifference what became of
+the demesne, who inhabited the house,--the home of “the Martins” for
+centuries! She was as little concerned for the prestige of “the old
+family,” as she was interested for the sorrows of the people. If Mary
+endeavored to treat these things dispassionately to her own heart,
+by dwelling upon all the points which affected others, still, her own
+individual wrong would work to the surface, and the bitter and insulting
+suggestion made to her rose up before her in all its enormity.
+
+She did her very best to turn her thoughts into some other channel,--to
+fix them upon her poor uncle, on his sick-bed, and sorrowing as he
+was sure to be; to think of her cousin Harry, struggling against the
+embarrassments of his own imprudence; of the old housekeeper, Catty
+Broon, to whom she could not summon courage to speak the cruel tidings
+of her changed lot,--but all, all in vain; back she would come to the
+humiliation that foreshadowed her own fortune, and threatened to depose
+her from her station forever.
+
+An indignant appeal to her uncle--her own father's brother--was her
+first resolve. “Let me learn,” said she to herself, “from his own lips,
+that such is the destiny he assigns me; that in return for my tried
+affection, my devotion, he has no other recompense than to lower me in
+self-esteem and condition together. Time enough, when assured of
+this, to decide upon what I shall do. But to whom shall I address this
+demand?” thought she again. “That dear, kind uncle is now struck down
+by illness. It were worse than cruelty to add to his own sorrows any
+thought of _mine_. If he have concurred in Lady Dorothea's suggestion,
+who knows in what light it may have been presented to him, by what
+arguments strengthened, with what perils contrasted? Is it impossible,
+too, that the sacrifice may be imperative? The sale of part of the
+property, the pressure of heavy claims,--all show that it may be
+necessary to dispose of Cro' Martin. Oh,” exclaimed she, in agony,
+“it is but a year ago, that when Mr. Repton hinted vaguely at such a
+casualty, how stoutly and indignantly did I reject it!
+
+“'Your uncle may choose to live abroad,' said he; 'to sell the estate,
+perhaps.' And I heard him with almost scornful defiance; and now the
+hour is come! and even yet I cannot bring myself to believe it. When
+Repton drew the picture of the tenantry, forsaken and neglected, the
+poor unnoticed, and the sick uncared for, he still forgot to assign me
+my place in the sad 'tableau,' and show that in destitution my lot was
+equal to their own; the very poorest and meanest had yet some spot, poor
+and mean though it were, they called a home, that Mary Martin was the
+only one an outcast!”
+
+These gloomy thoughts were darkened as she bethought her that of her
+little fortune--on which, by Scanlan's aid, she had raised a loan--a
+mere fragment remained,--a few hundred pounds at most. The outlay on
+hospitals and medical assistance for the sick had more than quadrupled
+what she had estimated. The expense once begun, she had persevered with
+almost reckless determination. She had despatched to Dublin, one by one,
+the few articles of jewelry and value she possessed for sale; she had
+limited her own expenditure to the very narrowest bounds, nor was it
+till driven by the utmost urgency that she wrote the appeal to her uncle
+of which the reader already knows.
+
+“How I once envied Kate Henderson,” cried she, aloud, “the brilliant
+accomplishments she possessed, the graceful charm that her cultivation
+threw over society, and the fascination she wielded, by acquirements of
+which I knew nothing; but how much more now do I envy her, that in those
+same gifts her independence was secured,--that, high above the chances
+of the world, she could build upon her own efforts, and never descend to
+a condition of dependence!”
+
+Her diminished power amongst the people had been fully compensated by
+the sincere love and affection she had won from them by acts of charity
+and devotion. Even these, however, owed much of their efficacy to the
+prestige of her station. No peasant in Europe puts so high a value on
+the intercourse with a rank above his own as does the Irish. The most
+pleasant flattery to his nature is the notice of “the gentleman,” and
+it was more than half the boon Mary bestowed upon the poor, that she
+who sat down beside the bed, who heated the little drink, who raised the
+head to swallow it, was the daughter of the Great House! Would not her
+altered fortune destroy this charm? was now her bitter reflection. Up
+to this hour, greatly reduced as were the means she dispensed, and the
+influence she wielded, she still lived in the proud home of her family,
+and all regarded her as the representative of her honored name. But
+now--No, she could not endure the thought! “If I must descend to further
+privations,” said she to herself, “let me seek out some new scene,--some
+spot where I am unknown, have never been heard of; there, at least, I
+shall be spared the contrast of the past with the present, nor see in
+every incident the cruel mockery of my former life.
+
+“And yet,” thought she, “how narrow-minded and selfish is all this, how
+mean-spirited, to limit the question to my own feelings! Is there no
+duty involved in this sacrifice? Shall I not still--reduced though I be
+in fortune--shall I not still be a source of comfort to many here? Will
+not the very fact of my presence assure them that they are not deserted?
+They have seen me under some trials, and the lesson has not been
+fruitless. Let them then behold me, under heavier ones, not dismayed nor
+cast down. What I lose in the prestige of station I shall more than gain
+in sympathy; and so I remain!” No sooner was the resolve formed than
+all her wonted courage came back. Rallying with the stimulus of action
+before her, she began to plan out a new life, in which her relation
+to the people should be closer and nearer than ever. There was a small
+ornamental cottage on the demesne, known as the Chalet, built by
+Lady Dorothea after one she had seen in the Oberland; this Mary now
+determined on for her home, and there, with Catty Broon alone, she
+resolved to live.
+
+“My aunt,” thought she, “can scarcely be so wedded to the Henderson
+scheme but that this will equally satisfy her wishes; and while it
+secures a home and a resting-place for-poor Catty, it rescues _me_ from
+what I should feel as a humiliation.”
+
+The day was already beginning to dawn as Mary sat down to answer Lady
+Dorothea's letter. Most of her reply referred to her uncle, to whose
+affection she clung all the more as her fortunes darkened. She saw all
+the embarrassment of proffering her services to nurse and tend him,
+living, as he was, amidst his own; but still, she said that of the
+journey or its difficulties she should never waste a thought, if her
+presence at his sick-bed could afford him the slightest satisfaction.
+“He knows me as a nurse already,” said she. “But tell him that I have
+grown, if not wiser, calmer and quieter than he knew me formerly; that
+I should not disturb him by foolish stories, but sit patiently save when
+he would have me to talk. Tell him, too, that if changed in many things,
+in my love to_ him_ I am unaltered.” She tried to add more, but could
+not. The thought that these lines were to be read to her uncle by Lady
+Dorothea chilled her, and the very tones of that supercilious voice
+seemed to ring in her ears, and she imagined some haughty or insolent
+comment to follow them as they were uttered.
+
+With regard to her own future, she, in a few words, remarked upon the
+unnecessary expense of maintaining a large house for the accommodation
+of a single person, and said that, if her Ladyship concurred in the
+plan, she would prefer taking up her home at the Chalet with old Catty
+for companion and housekeeper.
+
+She pointed out the advantages of a change which, while securing a
+comfortable home to them, would equally suggest to their dependants
+lessons of thrift and self-sacrifice, and added, half sportively, “As
+for me, when I find myself _en Suisse_, I 'm sure I shall less regret
+horses and dogs, and such-like vanities, and take to the delights of
+a dairy and cream cheeses with a good grace. Indeed, I 'm not quite
+certain but that Fortune, instead of displacing, will in reality be
+only installing me in the position best suited to me. Do not, then, be
+surprised, if at your return you find me in sabots and an embroidered
+bodice, deep in the mystery of all cottage economics, and well content
+to be so.
+
+“You are quite right, my dear aunt,” she continued, “not to entertain
+me with politics. The theme is as much above as it is distasteful to
+me; and so grovelling are my sentiments, that I 'd rather hear of
+the arrival of a cargo of oatmeal at Kilkieran than learn that the
+profoundest statesman of Great Britain had condescended to stand for
+our dear borough of Oughterard. At the same time, if Cousin Harry should
+change his mind, and turn his ambition towards the Senate, tell him I
+'m quite ready to turn out and canvass for him to-morrow, and that the
+hospitalities of the Chalet shall do honor to the cause. As you speak
+of sending for Mr. Scanlan, I leave to him to tell you all the events of
+our late assizes here,--a task I escape from the more willingly, since
+I have no successes to record. Mr. Repton, however,--he paid me a visit
+yesterday, and stopped here to dinner,--says that he has no fears for
+the result at the next trial, and honestly confesses that our present
+defeat was entirely owing to the skill and ability of the counsel
+opposed to us. By some delay or mistake, I don't exactly know which,
+Scanlan omitted to send a retainer to young Mr. Nelligan, and who, being
+employed for the other side, was the chief cause of our failure. My
+uncle will be pleased to learn that Mr. N.'s address to the jury was
+scrupulously free from any of that invective or attack so frequently
+levelled at landlords when defending the rights of property. Repton
+called it 'a model of legal argument, delivered with the eloquence of a
+first-rate speaker, and the taste and temper of a gentleman.' Indeed,
+I understand that the tone of the speech has rendered all the ribaldry
+usual on such occasions in local journals impossible, and that the young
+barrister has acquired anything but popularity in consequence. Even
+in this much, is there a dawn of better things; and under such
+circumstances a defeat may be more profitable than a victory.”
+
+With a few kind messages to her uncle, and an earnest entreaty for
+early tidings of his state, Mary concluded a letter in which her great
+difficulty lay in saying far less than her thoughts dictated, and
+conveying as much as she dare trust to Lady Dorothea's interpretation.
+The letter concluded and sealed, she lay down, dressed as she was, on
+her bed, and fell a-thinking over the future.
+
+There are natures to whom the opening of any new vista in life suggests
+fully as much of pleasure as anxiety. The prospect of the unknown and
+the untried has something of the adventurous about it which more than
+counterbalances the casualties of a future. Such a temperament was hers;
+and the first sense of sorrowful indignation over, she really began
+to speculate upon her cottage life with a certain vague and dreamy
+enjoyment. She foresaw, that when Cro' Martin Castle fell into other
+hands, that her own career ceased, her occupation was gone, and that
+she should at once fashion out some new road, and conform herself to new
+habits. The cares of her little household would probably not suffice to
+engage one whose active mind had hitherto embraced so wide a field of
+action, and Mary then bethought her how this leisure might be devoted to
+study and improvement. It was only in the eager enthusiasm of her many
+pursuits that she buried her sorrows over her neglected and imperfect
+education; and now a time was approaching when that reflection could no
+longer be resisted. She pondered long and deeply over these thoughts,
+when suddenly they were interrupted; but in what way, deserves a chapter
+of its own,--albeit a very brief one.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVIII. MR. MERL'S EXPERIENCES IN THE WEST
+
+“What card is this?--who left it?” said Mary, as she took up one from
+her breakfast-table.
+
+“It is a gentleman that came to the inn late last night, miss, and sent
+a boy over to ask when he could pay his respects at the castle.”
+
+“'Mr. Herman Merl,'--a name I never heard of,” muttered Mary to herself.
+“Doubtless some stranger wishing to see the house. Say, whenever he
+pleases, George; and order Sorrel to be ready, saddled and at the door,
+within an hour. This must be a busy day,” said she, still speaking to
+herself, as the servant left the room. “At Oughterard before one; a
+meeting of the Loan Fund--I shall need some aid for my hospital; the
+Government order for the meal to be countersigned by a justice--Mr.
+Nelligan will do it. Then there 's Taite's little boy to be balloted
+for in the Orphan House; and Cassidy's son to be sent up to Dublin.
+Poor fellow, he has a terrible operation to go through. And I shall
+need Priest Rafferty's name to this memorial from the widows; the castle
+authorities seem to require it. After that, a visit to Kyle-a-Noe, to
+see all my poor sick folk: that will be a long business. I hope I may be
+able to get down to the shore and learn some tidings of poor Joan. She
+never leaves my thoughts, and yet I feel that no ill has befallen her.”
+
+“The gentleman that sent the card, miss, is below stairs. He is with Mr.
+Crow, at the hall-door,” said George.
+
+“Show him into the drawing-room, George, and tell Mr. Crow to come here,
+I wish to speak to him.” And before Mary had put away the papers and
+letters which littered the table, the artist entered.
+
+“Good morning, Mr. Crow,” said Mary, in return for a number of most
+courteous salutations, which he was performing in a small semicircle in
+front of her. “Who is your friend Mr.--'Mr. Herman Merl '?” read she,
+taking up the card.
+
+“A friend of your cousin's, Miss Mary,--of the Captain's. He brought a
+letter from him; but he gave it to Scanlan, and somehow Mr. Maurice, I
+believe, forgot to deliver it.”
+
+“I have no recollection of it,” said she, still assorting the papers
+before her. “What is this visit meant for,--curiosity, pleasure,
+business? Does he wish to see the house?”
+
+“I think it's Miss Martin herself he'd like to see,” said Crow, half
+slyly.
+
+“But why so? It's quite clear that I cannot show him any attentions. A
+young girl, living as I do here, cannot be expected to receive guests.
+Besides, I have other things to attend to. You must do the honors of
+Cro' Martin, Mr. Crow. You must entertain this gentleman for me. I 'll
+order luncheon before I go out, and I 'm sure you 'll not refuse me this
+service.”
+
+“I wish I knew a real service to render you, Miss Mary,” said he, with
+unfeigned devotedness in his look as he spoke.
+
+“I think I could promise myself as much,” said Mary, smiling kindly on
+him. “Do you happen to know anything of this stranger, Mr. Crow?”
+
+“Nothing, miss, beyond seeing him this week back at Kilkieran.”
+
+“Oh, I have heard of him, then,” broke in Mary. “It is of him the people
+tell me such stories of benevolence and goodness. It was he that sent
+the yawl out to Murran Island with oatmeal and potatoes for the poor.
+But I thought they called him Mr. Barry?”
+
+“To be sure they do; and he's another guess man from him below stairs.
+This one here”--Mr. Crow now spoke in a whisper--“this one here is a
+Jew, I 'd take the Testament on it, and I 'd not be surprised if he was
+one of them thieving villains that they say robbed the Captain! All the
+questions he does be asking about the property, and the rents, if they
+'re well paid, and what arrears there are, shows me that he isn't here
+for nothing.”
+
+“I know nothing of what you allude to, Mr. Crow,” said she, half
+proudly; “it would ill become _me_ to pry into my cousin's affairs. At
+the same time, if the gentleman has no actual business with me, I shall
+decline to receive him.”
+
+“He says he has, miss,” replied Crow. “He says that he wants to speak to
+you about a letter he got by yesterday's post from the Captain.”
+
+Mary heard this announcement with evident impatience; her head was,
+indeed, too full of other cares to wish to occupy her attention with a
+ceremonial visit. She was in no mood to accept the unmeaning compliments
+of a new acquaintance. Shall we dare to insinuate, what after all is
+a mere suspicion on our part, that a casual glance at her pale cheeks,
+sunken eyes, and careworn features had some share in the obstinacy of
+her refusal? She was not, indeed, “in looks,” and she knew it. “Must I
+repeat it, Mr. Crow,” said she, peevishly, “that you can do all this for
+me, and save me a world of trouble and inconvenience besides? If there
+should be--a very unlikely circumstance--anything confidential to
+communicate, this gentleman may write it.” And with this she left the
+room, leaving poor Mr. Crow in a state of considerable embarrassment.
+Resolving to make the best of his difficulty, he returned to the
+drawing-room, and apologizing to Merl for Miss Martin's absence on
+matters of great necessity, he conveyed her request that he would stop
+for luncheon.
+
+“She ain't afraid of me, I hope?” said Merl.
+
+“I trust not. I rather suspect she is little subject to fear upon any
+score,” replied Crow.
+
+“Well, I must say it's not exactly what I expected. The letter I hold
+here from the Captain gives me to understand that his cousin will not
+only receive me, but confer with and counsel me, too, in a somewhat
+important affair.”
+
+“Oh, I forgot,” broke in Crow; “you are to write to her, she said,--that
+is, if there really were anything of consequence, which you deemed
+confidential, you know,--you were to write to her.”
+
+“I never put my hand to paper, Mr. Crow, without well knowing why. When
+Herman Merl signs anything, he takes time to consider what's in it,”
+ said the Jew, knowingly.
+
+“Well, shall I show you the house,--there are some clever specimens of
+the Dutch masters here?” asked Crow, anxious to change the topic.
+
+“Ay, with all my heart. I suppose I must accept this privilege as my
+experience of the much-boasted Irish hospitality,” said he with a sneer,
+which required all Crow's self-control to resist answering. To master
+the temptation, and give himself a few moments' repose, he went about
+opening windows and drawing back curtains, so as to admit a fuller and
+stronger light upon the pictures along the walls.
+
+“There now,” said he, pointing to a large landscape, “there's a Both,
+and a fine one too; as mellow in color and as soft in distance as ever
+he painted.”
+
+“That's a copy,” said the other. “That picture was painted by Woeffel,
+and I 'll show you his initials, too, A. W., before we leave it.”
+
+“It came from the Dordrecht gallery, and is an undoubted Both!”
+ exclaimed Crow, angrily.
+
+“I saw it there myself, and in very suitable company, too, with a
+Snyders on one side and a Rubens on t' other, the Snyders being a Faltk,
+and the Rubens a Metziger; the whole three being positively dear at
+twenty pounds. Ay, here it is,” continued he, pointing to the hollow
+trunk of a decayed tree: “there's the initials. So much for your
+original by Both.”
+
+“I hope you'll allow that to be a Mieris?” said Crow, passing on to
+another.
+
+“If you hadn't opened the shutters, perhaps I might,” said Merl; “but
+with a good dash of light I see it is by Jansens,--and a clever copy,
+too.”
+
+“A copy!” exclaimed the other.
+
+“A good copy,” I said. “The King of Bavaria has the original. It is in the
+small collection at Hohen Schwangau.”
+
+“There, that's good!” cried he, turning to a small unfinished sketch in
+oils.
+
+“I often wondered who did it,” cried Crow.
+
+“That! Why, can you doubt, sir? That's a bit of Vandyke's own. It was
+one of the hundred and fifty rough things he threw off as studies for
+his great picture of St. Martin parting his cloak.”
+
+“I'm glad to hear you say so,” said Crow, in delight. “I felt, when I
+looked at it, that it was a great hand threw in them colors.”
+
+“You call this a Salvator Rosa, don't you?” said Merl, as he stood
+before a large piece representing a bandit's bivouac in a forest, with a
+pale moonlight stealing through the trees.
+
+“Yes, that we do,” said Crow, stoutly.
+
+“Of course, it's quite sufficient to have blended lights, rugged
+foregrounds, and plenty of action to make a Salvator; but let me tell
+you, sir, that it's not even a copy of him. It is a bad--ay, and a very
+bad--Haemlens,--an Antwerp fellow that lived by poor facsimiles.”
+
+“Oh dear, oh dear!” cried Crow, despairingly. “Did I ever hear the like
+of this!”
+
+“Are these your best things, Mr. Crow?” said Merl, surveying the room
+with an air of consummate depreciation.
+
+“There are others. There are some portraits and a number of small
+cabinet pictures.”
+
+“Gerard Dows, and Jansens, and such like?” resumed Merl; “I understand:
+a mellow brown tint makes them, just as a glossy white satin petticoat
+makes a Terburg. Mr. Crow, you 've caught a Tartar,” said he, with a
+grin. “There's not a man in Europe can detect a copy from the original
+sooner than him before you. Now seven out of every eight of these here
+are veritable 'croûtes,'--what we call 'croûtes,' sir,--things sold at
+Christie's, and sent off to the Continent to be hung up in old châteaux
+in Flanders, or dilapidated villas in Italy, where your exploring
+Englishman discovers them by rare good luck, and brings them home with
+him as Cuyps or Claudes or Vandykes. I'll undertake,” said he, looking
+around him,--“I'll undertake to furnish you with a gallery, in every
+respect the duplicate of this, for--let me see--say three hundred
+pounds. Now, Mr. Crow,” said Merl, taking a chair, and spreading out his
+legs before the fire, “will you candidly answer me one question?”
+
+“Tell me what it is,” said Crow, cautiously.
+
+“I suppose by this time,” said Merl, “you are tolerably well satisfied
+that Herman Merl is not very easily duped? I mean to say that at least
+there are _softer_ fellows to be found than the humble individual who
+addresses you.”
+
+“I trust there are, indeed,” said the other, sighing, “or it would be a
+mighty poor world for Simmy Crow and the likes of him.”
+
+“Well, I think so too,” said Merl, chuckling to himself. “The wide-awake
+ones have rather the best of it. But, to come back to my question, I
+was simply going to ask you if the whole of the Martin estate--house,
+demesne, woods, gardens, quarries, farms, and fisheries--was not pretty
+much of the same sort of thing as this here gallery?”
+
+“How? What do you mean?” asked Crow, whose temper was barely, and with
+some difficulty, restrainable.
+
+“I mean, in plain words, a regular humbug,--that's all! and no more the
+representative of real value than these daubs here are the works of the
+great masters whose names they counterfeit.”
+
+“Look here, sir,” said Crow, rising, and approaching the other with a
+face of angry indignation, “for aught I know, you may be right about
+these pictures. The chances are you are a dealer in such wares,--at
+least you talk like one,--but of the family that lived under this roof,
+and whose bread I have eaten for many a day, if you utter one word that
+even borders on disrespect,--if you as much as hint at--”
+
+What was to be the conclusion of Mr. Crow's menace we have no means of
+recording, for a servant, rushing in at the instant, summoned the artist
+with all speed to Miss Martin's presence. He found her, as he entered,
+with flushed cheeks and eyes flashing angrily, in one of the deep
+recesses of a window that looked out upon the lawn.
+
+“Come here, sir,” cried she, hurriedly,--“come here, and behold a sight
+such as you scarcely ever thought to look upon from these windows. Look
+here!” And she pointed to an assemblage of about a hundred people,
+many of whom were rudely armed with stakes, gathered around the chief
+entrance of the castle. In the midst was a tall man, mounted upon a
+wretched horse, who seemed from his gestures to be haranguing the mob,
+and whom Crow speedily recognized to be Magennis of Barnagheela.
+
+“What does all this mean?” asked he, in astonishment.
+
+“It means this, sir,” said she, grasping his arm and speaking in a voice
+thick from passionate eagerness. “That these people whom you see there
+have demanded the right to enter the house and search it from basement
+to roof. They are in quest of one that is missing; and although I have
+given my word of honor that none such is concealed here, they have dared
+to disbelieve me, and declare they will see for themselves. They might
+know me better,” added she, with a bitter smile,--“they might know me
+better, and that I no more utter a falsehood than I yield to a menace.
+See!” exclaimed she, “they are passing through the flower-garden,--they
+are approaching the lower windows. Take a horse, Mr. Crow, and ride for
+Kiltimmon; there is a police-station there,--bring up the force with
+you,--lose no time, I entreat you.”
+
+“But how--leave you here all alone?”
+
+“Have no fears on that score, sir,” said she, proudly; “they may insult
+the roof that shelters me, to myself they will offer no outrage. But be
+quick; away at once, and with speed!”
+
+Had Mr. Crow been, what it must be owned had been difficult, a worse
+horseman than he was, he would never have hesitated to obey this behest.
+Ere many minutes, therefore, he was in the saddle and flying across
+country at a pace such as he never imagined any energy could have
+exacted from him.
+
+“They have got a ladder up to the windows of the large drawing-room,
+Miss Mary,” said a servant; “they'll be in before many minutes.”
+
+Taking down two splendidly ornamented pistols from above the
+chimney-piece, Mary examined the priming, and ordering the servant away,
+she descended by a small private stair to the drawing-room beneath.
+Scarcely, however, had she crossed the threshold than she was met by
+a man eagerly hurrying away. Stepping back in astonishment, and with a
+face pale as death, he exclaimed, “Is it Miss Martin?”
+
+“Yes, sir,” replied she, firmly; “and your name?”
+
+“Mr. Merl--Herman Merl,” said he, with a stealthy glance towards
+the windows, on the outside of which two fellows were now seated,
+communicating with those below.
+
+“This is not a moment for much ceremony, sir,” said she, promptly; “but
+you are here opportunely. These people will have it that I am harboring
+here one that they are in pursuit of. I have assured them of their
+error, I have pledged my word of honor upon it, but they are not
+satisfied. They declare that they will search the house, and _I_ as
+firmly declare they-shall not.”
+
+“But the person is really not here?” broke in Merl.
+
+“I have said so, sir,” rejoined she, haughtily.
+
+“Then why not let them search? Egad, I'd say, look away to your heart's
+content, pry into every hole and corner you please, only don't do any
+mischief to the furniture--don't let any--”
+
+“I was about to ask your assistance, sir, but your counsel saves me from
+the false step. To one who proffers such wise advice, arguments like
+these”--and she pointed to the pistols--“arguments like these would be
+most distasteful; and yet let us see if others may not be of your mind
+too.” And steadily aiming her weapon for a second or two, she sent
+a ball through the window, about a foot above the head of one of the
+fellows without. Scarcely had the report rung out and the splintering
+glass fallen, than the two men leaped to the ground, while a wild cheer,
+half derision, half anger, burst from the mob beneath. “Now, sir,”
+ continued she, with a smile of a very peculiar meaning, as she turned
+towards Merl,--“now, sir, you will perceive that you have got into very
+indiscreet company, such as I 'm sure Captain Martin's letter never
+prepared you for; and although it is not exactly in accordance with the
+usual notions of Irish hospitality to point to the door, perhaps you
+will be grateful to me when I say that you can escape by that corridor.
+It leads to a stair which will conduct you to the stable-yard. I'll
+order a saddle-horse for you. I suppose you ride?” And really the glance
+which accompanied these words was not a flattery.
+
+[Illustration: 222]
+
+However the proposition might have met Mr.' Merl's wishes there is no
+means of knowing, for a tremendous crash now interrupted the colloquy,
+and the same instant the door of the drawing-room was burst open, and
+Magennis, followed by a number of country people, entered.
+
+“I told you,” cried he, rudely, “that I'd not be denied. It's your own
+fault if you would drive me to enter here by force.”
+
+“Well, sir, force has done it,” said she, taking a seat as she spoke. “I
+am here alone, and you may be proud of the achievement!” The glance she
+directed towards Merl made that gentleman shrink back, and eventually
+slide noiselessly from the room, and escape from the scene altogether.
+
+“If you'll send any one with me through the house, Miss Martin,” began
+Magennis, in a tone of much subdued meaning--“No, sir,” broke she
+in--“no, sir, I'll give no such order. You have already had my solemn
+word of honor, assuring you that there was not any one concealed
+here. The same incredulous disrespect you have shown to my word would
+accompany whatever direction I gave to my servants. Go wherever you
+please; for the time you are the master here. Mark me, sir,” said she,
+as, half crestfallen and in evident shame, he was about to move from
+the room--“mark me, sir, if I feel sorry that one who calls himself
+a gentleman should dishonor his station by discrediting the word, the
+plighted word, of a lady, yet I can forgive much to him whose feelings
+are under the impulse of passion. But how shall I speak my contempt
+for _you_,”--and she turned a withering look of scorn on the men who
+followed him,--“for you, who have dared to come here to insult me,--I,
+that if you had the least spark of honest manhood in your natures, you
+had died rather than have offended? Is this your requital for the part I
+have borne amongst you? Is it thus that you repay the devotion by which
+I have squandered all that I possessed, and would have given my life,
+too, for you and yours? Is it thus, think you, that your mothers and
+wives and sisters would requite me? Or will they welcome you back from
+your day's work, and say, Bravely done? You have insulted a lone girl in
+her home, outraged the roof whence she never issued save to serve you,
+and taught her to believe that the taunts your enemies cast upon you,
+and which she once took as personal affronts to herself, that they are
+just and true, and as less than you merited. Go back, men,” added she,
+in a voice trembling with emotion,--“go back, while it is time. Go back
+in shame, and let me never know who has dared to offer me this insult!”
+ And she hid her face between her hands, and bent down her head upon her
+lap. For several minutes she remained thus, overwhelmed and absorbed by
+intensely painful emotion, and when she lifted up her head, and looked
+around, they were gone! A solemn silence reigned on every side; not a
+word, nor a footfall, could be heard. She rushed to the window just in
+time to see a number of men slowly entering the wood, amidst whom she
+recognized Magennis, leading his horse by the bridle, and following the
+others, with bent-down head and sorrowful mien.
+
+“Oh, thank Heaven for this!” cried she, passionately, as the tears
+gushed out and coursed down her face. “Thank Heaven that they are not as
+others call them--cold-hearted and treacherous, craven in their hour of
+trial, and cruel in the day of their vengeance! I knew them better!”
+ It was long before she could sufficiently subdue her emotion to think
+calmly of what had occurred. At last she bethought her of Mr. Merl, and
+despatched a servant in his pursuit, with a polite request that he would
+return. The man came up with Merl as he had reached the small gate
+of the park, but no persuasions, no entreaties, could prevail on that
+gentleman to retrace his steps; nay, he was frank enough to say, “He
+had seen quite enough of the West,” and to invoke something very unlike
+benediction on his head if he ever passed another day in Galway.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIX. MR. MERL'S “LAST” IRISH IMPRESSION
+
+Never once turning his head towards Cro' Martin, Mr. Merl set out for
+Oughterard, where, weary and footsore, he arrived that same evening. His
+first care was to take some refreshment; his next to order horses for
+Dublin early for the following morning. This done, he sat down to write
+to Captain Martin, to convey to him what Merl designated as a “piece of
+his mind,” a phrase which, in popular currency, is always understood to
+imply the very reverse of any flattery. The truth was, Mr. Merl began to
+suspect that his Irish liens were a very bad investment, that property
+in that country was held under something like a double title, the one
+conferred by law, the other maintained by a resolute spirit and a stout
+heart; that parchments required to be seconded by pistols, and that he
+who owned an estate must always hold himself in readiness to fight for
+it.
+
+Now, these were all very unpalatable considerations. They rendered
+possession perilous, they made sale almost impossible. In the cant
+phrase of Ceylon, the Captain had sold him a wild elephant; or, to speak
+less figuratively, disposed of what he well knew the purchaser could
+never avail himself of. If Mr. Merl was an emblem of blandness and good
+temper at the play-table, courteous and conceding at every incident of
+the game, it was upon the very wise calculation that the politeness was
+profitable. The little irregularities that he pardoned all gave him an
+insight into the character of his antagonists; and where he appeared to
+have lost a battle, he had gained more than a victory in knowledge of
+the enemy.
+
+These blandishments were, however, no real part of the man's natural
+temperament, which was eminently distrustful and suspicious, wary to
+detect a blot, prompt and sharp to hit it. A vague, undefined impression
+had now come over him that the Captain had overreached him; that even if
+unincumbered,--which was far from the case,--this same estate was like a
+forfeited territory, which to own a man must assert his mastery with the
+strong hand of force. “I should like to see myself settling down amongst
+those savages,” thought he, “collecting my rents with dragoons, or
+levying a fine with artillery. Property, indeed! You might as well
+convey to me by bill of sale the right over a drove of wild buffaloes in
+South America, or give me a title to a given number of tigers in Bengal.
+He'd be a bold man that would even venture to come and have a look at
+'his own.'”
+
+It was in this spirit, therefore, that he composed his epistle, which
+assuredly lacked nothing on the score of frankness and candor. All his
+“Irish impressions” had been unfavorable. He had eaten badly, he had
+slept worse; the travelling was rude, the climate detestable; and
+lastly, where he had expected to have been charmed with the ready
+wit, and amused with the racy humor of the people, he had only been
+terrified--terrified almost to death--by their wild demeanor, and a
+ferocity that made his heart quake. “Your cousin,” said he,--“your
+cousin, whom, by the way, I only saw for a few minutes, seemed admirably
+adapted to the exigencies of the social state around her; and although
+ball practice has not been included amongst the ordinary items of young
+ladies' acquirements, I am satisfied that it might advantageously form
+part of an Irish education.
+
+“As to your offer of a seat in Parliament, I can only say,” continued
+he, “that as the Member of Oughterard I should always feel as though I
+were seated over a barrel of gunpowder; while the very idea of meeting
+my constituency makes me shudder. I am, however, quite sensible of
+the honor intended me, both upon that score and in your proposal of
+my taking up my residence at Cro' Martin. The social elevation, and
+so forth, to ensue from such a course of proceeding would have this
+disadvantage,--it would not pay! No, Captain Martin, the settlement
+between us must stand upon another basis,--the very simple and
+matter-of-fact one called £ s. d. I shall leave this to-morrow, and
+be in town, I hope, by Wednesday; you can, therefore, give your man of
+business, Mr. Saunders, his instructions to meet me at Wimpole's, and
+state what terms of liquidation he is prepared to offer. Suffice it for
+the present to say that I decline any arrangement which should transfer
+to me any portion of the estate. I declare to you, frankly, I'd
+not accept the whole of it on the condition of retaining the
+proprietorship.”
+
+When Mr. Merl had just penned the last sentence, the door slowly and
+cautiously was opened behind him, and a very much carbuncled face
+protruded into the room. “Yes, that's himself,” muttered a voice; and
+ere Merl had been able to detect the speaker, the door was closed. These
+casual interruptions to his privacy had so frequently occurred since the
+commencement of his tour, that he only included them amongst his other
+Irish “disagreeables;” and so he was preparing to enter on another
+paragraph, when a very decisive knock at the door startled him, and
+before he could say “Come in,” a tall, red-faced, vulgar-looking man,
+somewhat stooped in the shoulders, and with that blear-eyed watery
+expression so distinctive in hard drinkers, slowly entered, and shutting
+the door behind him, advanced to the fire.
+
+“My name, sir, is Brierley,” said he, with a full, rich brogue.
+
+“Brierley--Brierley--never heard of Brierley before,” said Mr. Merl,
+affecting a flippant ease that was very remote from his heart.
+
+“Better late than never, sir,” rejoined the other, coolly seating
+himself, and crossing his arms on his breast. “I have come here on the
+part of my friend Tom,--Mr. Magennis, I mean,--of Barnagheela, who told
+me to track you out.”
+
+“Much obliged, I'm sure, for the attention,” said Merl, with an assumed
+smartness.
+
+“That 's all right; so you should,” continued Brierley. “Tom told
+me that you were present at Cro' Martin when he was outraged and
+insulted,--by a female of course, or he wouldn't be making a complaint
+of it now,--and as he is not the man that ever lay under a thing of the
+kind, or ever will, he sent me here to you, to arrange where you 'd like
+to have it, and when.”
+
+“To have what?” asked Merl, with a look of unfeigned terror.
+
+“Baythershin! how dull we are!” said Mr. Brierley, with a finger to his
+very red nose. “Sure it's not thinking of the King's Bench you are, that
+you want me to speak clearer.”
+
+“I want to know your meaning, sir,--if you have a meaning.”
+
+“Be cool, honey; keep yourself cool. Without you happen to find that
+warmth raises your heart, I 'd say again, be cool. I've one simple
+question to ask you,”--here he dropped his voice to a low, cautious
+whisper,--“Will ye blaze?”
+
+“Will I what?” cried Merl.
+
+Mr. Brierley arose, and drawing himself up to his full height, extended
+his arm in the attitude of one taking aim with a pistol. “Eh!” cried he,
+“you comprehend me now, don't you?”
+
+“Fight--fight a duel!” exclaimed Merl, aloud.
+
+“Whisht! whisht! speak lower,” said Brierley; “there's maybe a chap
+listening at the door this minute!”
+
+Accepting the intimation in a very different spirit from that in
+which it was offered, Merl rushed to the door, and threw it wide open.
+“Waiter!--landlord!--house!--waiter!” screamed he, at the top of his
+voice. And in an instant three or four slovenly-looking fellows, with
+dirty napkins in dirtier hands, surrounded him.
+
+“What is it, your honer?--what is it?” asked they, in a breath.
+
+“Don't you hear what the gentleman's asking for?” said Brierley, with a
+half-serious face. “He wants a chaise-to the door as quick as lightning.
+He 's off this minute.”
+
+“Yes, by Jupiter! that I am,” said Merl, wiping the perspiration from
+his forehead.
+
+“Take your last look at the West, dear, as you pass the Shannon, for I
+don't think you 'll ever come so far again,” said Brierley, with a grin,
+as he moved by him to descend the stairs.
+
+“If I do, may--” But the slam of his room-door, and the rattle of the
+key as he locked it, cut short Mr. Merl's denunciation.
+
+In less than half an hour afterwards a yellow post-chaise left the
+“Martin Arms” at full speed, a wild yell of insult and derision greeting
+it as it swept by, showing how the Oughterard public appreciated its
+inmate!
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XX. SOMETHING NOT EXACTLY FLIRTATION.
+
+Most travelled reader, have you ever stood upon the plateau at the foot
+of the Alten-Schloss in Baden, just before sunset, and seen the golden
+glory spread out like a sheen over the vast plain beneath you, with
+waving forests, the meandering Rhine, and the blue Vosges mountains
+beyond all? It is a noble landscape, where every feature is bold, and
+throughout which light and shade alternate in broad, effective masses,
+showing that you are gazing on a scene of great extent, and taking in
+miles of country with your eye. It is essentially German, too, in its
+characteristics. The swelling undulations of the soil, the deep, dark
+forests, the picturesque homesteads, with shadowy eaves and carved
+quaint balconies, the great gigantic wagons slowly toiling through the
+narrow lanes, over which the “Lindens” spread a leafy canopy,--all are
+of the Vaterland.
+
+Some fancied resemblance--it was in reality no more--to a view from a
+window at Cro' Martin had especially endeared this spot to Martin, who
+regularly was carried up each evening to pass an hour or so, dreaming
+away in that half-unconsciousness to which his malady had reduced him.
+There he sat, scarcely a remnant of his former self, a leaden dulness
+in his eye, and a massive immobility in the features which once were
+plastic with every passing mood that stirred him. The clasped hands and
+slightly bent-down head gave a character of patient, unresisting meaning
+to his figure, which the few words he dropped from time to time seemed
+to confirm.
+
+At a little distance off, and on the very verge of the cliff, Kate
+Henderson was seated sketching; and behind her, occasionally turning to
+walk up and down the terraced space, was Massingbred, once more in full
+health, and bearing in appearance the signs of his old, impatient humor.
+Throwing away his half-smoked cigar, and with a face whose expression
+betokened the very opposite of all calm and ease of mind, he drew nigh
+to where she sat, and watched her over her shoulder. For a while she
+worked away without noticing his presence. At last she turned slightly
+about, and looking up at him, said, “You see, it's very nearly
+finished.”
+
+[Illustration: 232]
+
+“Well, and what then?” asked he, bluntly.
+
+“Do you forget that I gave you until that time to change your opinion?
+that when I was shadowing in this foreground I said, 'Wait 'till I have
+done this sketch, and see if you be of the same mind,' and you agreed?”
+
+“This might be very pleasant trifling if nothing were at stake, Miss
+Henderson,” said he; “but remember that I cannot hold all my worldly
+chances as cheaply as _you_ seem to do them.”
+
+“Light another cigar, and sit down here beside me,--I don't dislike
+smoke, and it may, perchance, be a peace calumet between us; and let us
+talk, if possible, reasonably and calmly.”
+
+He obeyed like one who seemed to feel that her word was a command, and
+sat down on the cliff at her side.
+
+“There, now,” said she, “be useful; hold that color-case for me, and
+give me your most critical counsel. Do you like my sketch?”
+
+“Very much indeed.”
+
+“Where do you find fault with it? There must be a fault, or your
+criticism is worth nothing.”
+
+“Its greatest blemish in my eyes is the time it has occupied you. Since
+you began it you have very rarely condescended to speak of anything
+else.”
+
+“A most unjust speech, and an ungrateful one. It was when throwing in
+those trees yonder, I persuaded you to recall your farewell address to
+your borough friends; it was the same day that I sketched that figure
+there, that I showed you the great mistake of your present life. There
+is no greater error, believe me, than supposing that a Parliamentary
+success, like a social one, can be achieved by mere brilliancy. Party
+is an army, and you must serve in the ranks before you can wear your
+epaulets.”
+
+“I have told you already,--I tell you again,--I 'm tired of the theme
+that has myself alone for its object.”
+
+“Of whom would you speak, then?” said she, still intently busied with
+her drawing.
+
+“You ask me when you know well of whom,” said he, hurriedly. “Nay, no
+menaces; I could not if I would be silent. It is impossible for me any
+longer to continue this struggle with myself. Here now, before I leave
+this spot, you shall answer me--” He stopped suddenly, as though he had
+said more than he intended, or more than he well knew how to continue.
+
+“Go on,” said she, calmly. And her fingers never trembled as they held
+the brush.
+
+“I confess I do envy that tranquil spirit of yours,” said he, bitterly.
+“It is such a triumph to be calm, cold, and impassive at a moment when
+others feel their reason tottering and their brain a chaos.”
+
+“There is nothing so easy, sir,” said she, proudly. “All that I can
+boast of is not to have indulged in illusions which seem to have a charm
+for _you_. You say you want explicit-ness. You shall have it. There was
+one condition on which I offered you my friendship and my advice. You
+accepted the bargain, and we were friends. After a while you came and
+said that you rued your compact; that you discovered your feelings for
+me went further; that mere friendship, as you phrased it, would not
+suffice--”
+
+“I told you, rather,” broke he in, “that I wished to put that feeling to
+the last test, by linking your fortune with my own forever.”
+
+“Very well, I accept that version. You offered to make me your wife, and
+in return, I asked you to retract your words,--to suffer our relations
+to continue on their old footing, nor subject me to the necessity of an
+explanation painful to both of us. For a while you consented; now you
+seem impatient at your concession, and ask me to resume the subject. Be
+it so, but for the last time.”
+
+Massingbred's cheeks grew deadly pale, but he never uttered a word.
+
+After a second's pause, she resumed: “Your affections are less engaged
+in this case than you think. You would make me your wife just as you
+would do anything else that gave a bold defiance to the world, to show
+a consciousness of your own power, to break down any obstacle, and make
+the prejudices or opinions of society give way before you. You have
+energy and self-esteem enough to make this succeed. Your wife--albeit
+the steward's daughter--the governess! would be received, invited,
+visited, and the rest of it; and so far as _you_ were concerned the
+triumph would be complete. Now, however, turn a little attention to the
+other side of the medal. What is to requite _me_ for all this courtesy
+on sufferance, all this mockery of consideration? Where am I to find my
+friendships, where even discover my duties? You only know of one kind
+of pride, that of station and social eminence. I can tell you there is
+another, loftier far,--the consciousness that no inequality of position
+can obliterate, what I feel and know in myself of superiority to those
+fine ladies whose favorable notice you would entreat for me. Smile at
+the vanity of this declaration if you like, sir, but, at least, own
+that I am consistent; for I am prouder in the independence of my present
+dependence than I should be in all the state of Mr. Massingbred's wife.
+You can see, therefore, that I could not accept this change as the great
+elevation you would deem it. You would be stooping to raise one who
+could never persuade herself that she was exalted. I am well aware that
+inequality of one sort or another is the condition of most marriages.
+The rank of one compensates for the wealth of the other. Here it is
+affluence and age, there it is beauty and poverty. People treat the
+question in a good commercial spirit, and balance the profit and loss
+like tradesfolk; but even in this sense our compact would be impossible,
+since _you_ would endow me with what has no value in my eyes, and _I_,
+worse off still, have absolutely nothing to give in return.”
+
+“Give me your love, dearest Kate,” cried he, “and, supported by that,
+you shall see that I deserve it. Believe me, it is your own proud spirit
+that exaggerates the difficulties that would await us in society.”
+
+“I should scorn myself if I thought of them,” broke she in, haughtily;
+“and remember, sir, these are not the words of one who speaks in
+ignorance. I, too, have seen that great world, on which your affections
+are so fixed. I have mixed with it, and know it. Notwithstanding all
+the cant of moralists, I do not believe it to be more hollow or
+more heartless than other classes. Its great besetting sin is not of
+self-growth, for it comes of the slavish adulation offered by those
+beneath it,--the grovelling worship of the would-be fine folk, who
+would leave friends and home and hearth to be admitted even to the
+antechambers of the great. They who offer up this incense are in my eyes
+far more despicable than they who accept the sacrifice; but I would not
+cast my lot with either. Do not smile, sir, as if these were high-flown
+sentiments; they are the veriest commonplaces of one who loves
+commonplace, who neither seeks affections with coronets nor friendships
+in gold coaches, but who would still less be of that herd--mute,
+astonished, and awe-struck--who worship them!”
+
+“You deem me, then, deficient in this same independence of spirit?”
+ cried Massingbred, half indignantly.
+
+“I certainly do not accept your intention of marrying beneath you as a
+proof of it. Must I again tell you, sir, that in such cases it is the
+poor, weak, patient, forgotten woman pays all the penalty, and that, in
+the very conflict with the world the man has his reward?”
+
+“If you loved me, Kate,” said he, in a tone of deep sorrow, “it is not
+thus you would discuss this question.”
+
+She made no reply, but bending down lower over her drawing, worked away
+with increased rapidity.
+
+“Still,” cried he, passionately, “I am not to be deterred by a defeat.
+Tell me, at least, how I can win that love, which is to me the great
+prize of life. You read my faults, you see my shortcomings clearly
+enough; be equally just, then, to anything there is of good or hopeful
+about me. Do this, Kate, and I will put my fate upon the issue.”
+
+“In plain words,” said she, calmly, “you ask me what manner of man I
+would consent to marry. I 'll tell you. One who with ability enough
+to attain any station, and talents to gain any eminence, has lived
+satisfied with that in which he was born; one who has made the
+independence of his character so felt by the world that his actions have
+been regarded as standards, a man of honor and of his word; employing
+his knowledge of life, not for the purposes of overreaching, but for
+self-correction and improvement; well bred enough to be a peer, simple
+as a peasant; such a man, in fact, as could afford to marry a governess,
+and, while elevating her to his station, never compromise his own with
+his equals. I don't flatter myself,” said she, smiling, “that I 'm
+likely to draw this prize; but I console myself by thinking that I could
+not accept aught beneath it as great fortune. I see, sir, the humility
+of my pretensions amuses you, and it is all the better for both of us if
+we can treat these things jestingly.”
+
+“Nay, Kate, you are unfair--unjust,” broke in Mas-singbred.
+
+“Mr. Martin begins to feel it chilly, Miss Henderson,” said a servant at
+this moment. “Shall we return to the hotel?”
+
+“Yes, by all means,” said she, rising hastily. The next instant she
+was busily engaged shawling and muffling the sick man, who accepted her
+attentions with the submissive-ness of a child.
+
+“That will do, Molly, thank you, darling,” said he, in a feeble voice;
+“you are so kind, so good to me.”
+
+“The evening is fresh, sir, almost cold,” said she.
+
+“Yes, dear, the climate is not what it used to be. We have cut down
+too many of those trees, Molly, yonder.” And he pointed with his thin
+fingers towards the Rhine. “We have thinned the wood overmuch, but
+they'll grow again, dear, though I shall not be here to see them.”
+
+“He thinks I am his niece,” whispered Kate, “and fancies himself at Cro'
+Martin.”
+
+“I suppose they'll advise my trying a warm country, Molly, a milder
+air,” muttered he, as they slowly carried him along. “But home, after
+all, is home; one likes to see the old faces and the old objects around
+them,--all the more when about to leave them forever!” And as the last
+words came, two heavy tears stole slowly along his cheeks, and his
+pale lips quivered with emotion. Now speaking in a low, weak voice to
+himself, now sighing heavily, as though in deep depression, he was borne
+along towards the hotel. Nor did the gay and noisy groups which thronged
+the thoroughfares arouse him. He saw them, but seemed not to heed them.
+His dreary gaze wandered over the brilliant panorama without interest or
+speculation. Some painful and difficult thoughts, perhaps, did all these
+unaccustomed sights and sounds bring across his mind, embarrassing him
+to reconcile their presence with the scene he fancied himself beholding;
+but even these impressions were faint and fleeting.
+
+As they turned to cross the little rustic bridge in front of the hotel,
+a knot of persons moved off the path to make way for them, one of whom
+fixed his eyes steadily on the sick man, gazing with the keen scrutiny
+of intense interest; then suddenly recalling himself to recollection, he
+hastily retreated within the group.
+
+“You are right,” muttered he to one near him, “he _is_ 'booked;' my bond
+will come due before the month ends.”
+
+“And you'll be an estated gent, Herman, eh?” said a very dark-eyed,
+hook-nosed man at his side.
+
+“Well, I hope I shall act the part as well as my neighbors,” said Mr.
+Merl, with that mingled assurance and humility that made up his manner.
+
+“Was n't that Massingbred that followed them,--he that made the famous
+speech the other day in Parliament?”
+
+“Yes,” said Merl. “I 've got a bit of 'stiff' with his endorsement in my
+pocket this minute for one hundred and fifty.”
+
+“What's it worth, Merl?”
+
+“Perhaps ten shillings; but I 'd not part with it quite so cheaply.
+He'll not always be an M.P., and we shall see if he can afford to
+swagger by an old acquaintance without so much as a 'How d' ye do?'”
+
+“There, he is coming back again,” said the other. And at the same moment
+Massingbred walked slowly up to the spot, his easy smile upon his face,
+and his whole expression that of a careless, unburdened nature.
+
+“I just caught a glimpse of you as I passed, Merl,” said he, with a
+familiar nod; “and you were exactly the man I wanted to see.”
+
+“Too much honor, sir,” said Merl, affecting a degree of haughty distance
+at the familiarity of this address.
+
+Massingbred smiled at the mock dignity, and went on; “I have something
+to say to you. Will you give me a call this evening at the Cour de Bade,
+say about nine or half-past?”
+
+“I have an engagement this evening.”
+
+“Put it off, then, that's all, Master Merl, for mine is an important
+matter, and very nearly concerns yourself.”
+
+Merl was silent. He would have liked much to display before his friends
+a little of the easy dash and swagger that he had just been exhibiting,
+to have shown them how cavalierly he could treat a rising statesman and
+a young Parliamentary star of the first order; but the question crossed
+him, Was it safe? what might the luxury cost him? “Am I to bring that
+little acceptance of yours along with me?” said he, in a half whisper,
+while a malicious sparkle twinkled in his eye.
+
+“Why not, man? Certainly, if it gives you the least pleasure in life;
+only don't be later than half-past nine.” And with one of his sauciest
+laughs Massingbred moved away, leaving the Jew very far from content
+with “the situation.”
+
+Merl, however, soon rallied. He had been amusing his friends, just
+before this interruption, with a narrative of his Irish journey: he now
+resumed the theme. All that he found faulty, all even that he deemed new
+or strange or unintelligible in that unhappy country, he had dressed up
+in the charming colors of his cockney vocabulary, and his hearers were
+worthy of him! There is but little temptation, however, to linger in
+their company, and so we leave them.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXI. LADY DOROTHEA
+
+The Cour de Bade, at which excellent hotel the Martins were installed,
+received on the day we have just chronicled a new arrival. He had come
+by the diligence, one of that undistinguishable ten thousand England
+sends off every week from her shores to represent her virtues or her
+vices, her oddities, vulgarities, and pretensions, to the critical eyes
+of continental Europe.
+
+Perfectly innocent of any foreign language, and with a delightful
+ambiguity as to the precise geography of where he stood, he succeeded,
+after some few failures, in finding out where the Martins stopped, and
+had now sent up his name to Lady Dorothea, that name being “Mr. Maurice
+Scanlan.”
+
+Lady Dorothea Martin had given positive orders that except in the
+particular case of this individual she was not to be interrupted by any
+visitor. She glanced her eye at the card, and then handed it across the
+table to her son, who coolly read it, and threw it from him with the air
+of one saying to himself, “Here's more of it! more complication, more
+investigation, deeper research into my miserable difficulties, and
+consequently more unhappiness.” The table at which they were seated was
+thickly covered with parchments, papers, documents, and letters of every
+shape and size. There were deeds, and bonds, and leases, rent-rolls,
+and valuations, and powers of attorney, and all the other imposing
+accessories of estated property. There were also voluminous bills of
+costs, formidable long columns of figures, “carried over” and “carried
+over” till the very eye of the reader wearied of the dread numerals and
+turned recklessly to meet the awful total at the bottom! Terrified by
+the menacing applications addressed to Mr. Martin on his son's account,
+and which arrived by every post, Lady Dorothea had resolved upon herself
+entering upon the whole state of the Captain's liabilities, as well as
+the complicated questions of the property generally.
+
+Distrust of her own powers was not in the number of her Ladyship's
+defects. Sufficiently affluent to be always able to surround herself
+with competent subordinates, she fancied--a not very uncommon error, by
+the way--that she individually accomplished all that she had obtained
+through another. Her taste in the fine arts, her skill in music, her
+excellence as a letter-writer, were all accomplishments in this wise;
+and it is not improbable that, had she been satisfied to accept her
+success in finance through a similar channel, the result might have
+proved just as fortunate. A shrinking dislike, however, to expose the
+moneyed circumstances of the family, and a feeling of dread as to the
+possible disclosures which should come out, prevented her from accepting
+such co-operation. She had, therefore, addressed herself to the task
+with no other aid than that of her son,--a partnership, it must be
+owned, which relieved her very little of her burden.
+
+Had the Captain been called away from the pleasures and amusements
+of life to investigate the dry records of some far-away cousin's
+embarrassments,--to dive into the wearisome narrative of
+money-borrowing, bill-renewing, and the rest of it, by one whom he had
+scarcely known or seen,--his manner and bearing could not possibly
+have betrayed stronger signs of utter weariness and apathy than he
+now exhibited. Smoking his cigar, and trimming his nails with a
+very magnificent penknife, he gave short and listless replies to her
+Ladyship's queries, and did but glance at the papers which from time to
+time she handed to him for explanation or inquiry.
+
+“So he is come at last!” exclaimed she, as the Captain threw down the
+visiting-card. “Shall we see him at once?”
+
+“By Jove! I think we've had enough of 'business,' as they call it, for
+one morning,” cried he. “Here have we been since a little after eleven,
+and it is now four, and I am as sick of accounts and figures as though I
+were a Treasury clerk.”
+
+“We have done next to nothing, after all!” said she, peevishly.
+
+“And I told you as much when you began,” said he, lighting a fresh
+cigar. “There's no seeing one's way through these kind of things after
+the lapse of a year or two. Fordyce gets hold of the bills you gave
+Mossop, and Rawkins buys up some of the things you had given renewals
+for, and then all that trash you took in part payment of your
+acceptances turns up, some day or other, to be paid for; and what
+between the bills that never were to be negotiated--but somehow do get
+abroad--and the sums sent to meet others applied in quite a different
+direction, I'll lay eighty to fifty in tens or ponies there's no
+gentleman living ever mastered one of these embarrassments. One must be
+bred to it, my Lady, take my word for it. It's like being a crack rider
+or a poet,--it's born with a man. 'The Henderson,'” added he, after a
+pause, “she can do it, and I should like to see what she couldn't!”
+
+“I am curious to learn how you became acquainted with these financial
+abilities of Miss Henderson?” said Lady Dorothea, haughtily.
+
+“Simply enough. I was poring over these confounded accounts one day at
+Manheim, and I chanced to ask her a question,--something about compound
+interest, I think it was,--and so she came and looked over what I was
+doing, or rather endeavoring to do. It was that affair with Throgmorton,
+where I was to meet one third of the bills, and Merl and he were to
+look to the remainder; but there was a reservation that if Comus won the
+Oaks, I was to stand free--no, that's not it--if Comus won the double
+event--”
+
+“Never mind your stupid contract. What of Miss Henderson?” broke in Lady
+Dorothea.
+
+“Well, she came over, as I told you, and took up a pencil and began
+working away with all sorts of signs and crosses,--regular algebra, by
+Jove!--and in about five minutes out came the whole thing, all square,
+showing that I stood to win on either event, and came off splendidly
+if the double should turn up. 'I wish,' said I to her, 'you 'd just
+run your eye over my book and see how I stand.' She took it over to the
+fire, and before I could well believe she had glanced at it, she said:
+'This is all full of blunders. You have left yourself open to three
+casualties, any one of which will sweep away all your winnings. Take
+the odds on Roehampton, and lay on Slingsby a couple of hundred
+more,--three, if you can get it,--and you 'll be safe enough. And when
+you 've done that,' said she, 'I have another piece of counsel to give;
+but first say will you take it?' 'I give you my word upon it,' said
+I. 'Then it is this,' said she: 'make no more wagers on the turf. You
+haven't skill to make what is called a “good book,” and you 'll always
+be a sufferer.'”
+
+“Did n't she vouchsafe to offer you her admirable assistance?” asked her
+Ladyship, with a sneer.
+
+“No, by Jove!” said he, not noticing the tone of sarcasm; “and when I
+asked her, 'Would not she afford me a little aid?' she quickly said,
+'Not on any account. You are now in a difficulty, and I willingly come
+forward to extricate you. Far different were the case should I conspire
+with you to place others in a similar predicament. Besides, I have your
+pledge that you have now done with these transactions, and forever.'”
+
+“What an admirable monitor! One only wonders how so much morality
+coexists with such very intimate knowledge of ignoble pursuits.”
+
+“By Jove! she knows everything,” broke in the Captain. “Such a canter as
+she gave me t' other morning about idleness and the rest of it, saying
+how I ought to study Hindostanee, and get a staff appointment, and
+so on,--that every one ought to place himself above the accidents of
+fortune; and when I said something about having no opportunity at hand,
+she replied, 'Never complain of that; begin with _me_. I know quite
+enough to initiate you; and as to Sanscrit, I 'm rather “up” in it.'”
+
+“I trust you accepted the offer?” said her Ladyship, with an ambiguous
+smile.
+
+“Well, I can't say I did. I hate work,--at least that kind of work.
+Besides, one doesn't like to come out 'stupid' in these kind of things,
+and so I merely said, 'I 'd think of it--very kind of her,' and so on.”
+
+“Did it never occur to you all this while,” began her Ladyship; and then
+suddenly correcting herself, she stopped short, and said, “By the way,
+Mr. Scanlan is waiting for his answer. Ring the bell, and let him come
+in.”
+
+Perhaps it was the imperfect recollection of that eminent
+individual,--perhaps the altered circumstances in which she now saw him,
+and possibly some actual changes in the man himself,--but really Lady
+Dorothea almost started with surprise as he entered the room, dressed
+in a dark pelisse, richly braided and frogged, an embroidered
+travelling-cap in his hand, and an incipient moustache on his upper
+lip,--all evidencing how rapidly he had turned his foreign experiences
+to advantage. There was, too, in his address a certain confident
+assurance that told how quickly the habits of the “Table d'hôte” had
+impressed him, and how instantaneously his nature had imbibed the vulgar
+ease of the “Continent.”
+
+“You have just arrived, Mr. Scanlan?” said her Ladyship, haughtily, and
+not a little provoked at the shake-hand salutation her son had accorded
+him.
+
+“Yes, my Lady, this instant, and such a journey as we 've had! No water
+on the Rhine for the steamers; and then, when we took to the land, a
+perfect deluge of rain, that nearly swept us away. At Eisleben, or some
+such name, we had an upset.”
+
+“What day did you leave Ireland?” asked she, in utter indifference as to
+the casualty.
+
+“Tuesday fortnight last, my Lady. I was detained two days in Dublin
+making searches--”
+
+“Have you brought us any letters, sir?”
+
+“One from Miss Mary, my Lady, and another from Mr. Repton--very pressing
+he said it was. I hope Mr. Martin is better? Your Ladyship's last--”
+
+“Not much improvement,” said she, stiffly, while her thin lips were
+compressed with an expression that might mean pride or sorrow, or both.
+
+“And the country, sir? How did you leave it looking?”
+
+“Pretty well, my Lady. More frightened than hurt, as a body might say.
+They 've had a severe winter, and a great deal of sickness; the rains,
+too, have done a deal of mischief; but on the whole matters are looking
+up again.”
+
+“Will the rents be paid, sir?” asked she, sharply.
+
+“Indeed, I hope so, my Lady. Some, of course, will be backward, and beg
+for time, and a few more will take advantage of Magennis's success, and
+strive to fight us off.”
+
+“There must have been some gross mismanagement in that business, sir,”
+ broke in her Ladyship. “Had I been at home, I promise you the matter
+would have ended differently.”
+
+“Mr. Repton directed all the proceedings himself, my Lady. He conferred
+with Miss Mary.”
+
+“What could a young lady know about such matters?” said she, angrily.
+“Any prospect of a tenant for the house, sir?”
+
+“If your Ladyship really decides on not going back--”
+
+“Not the slightest intention of doing so, sir. If it depended upon
+me, I'd rather pull it down and sell the materials than return to live
+there. You know yourself, sir, the utter barbarism we were obliged to
+submit to. No intercourse with the world--no society--very frequently
+no communication by post. Surrounded by a set of ragged creatures, all
+importunity and idleness, at one moment all defiance and insolence, at
+the next crawling and abject. But it is really a theme I cannot dwell
+upon. Give me your letters, sir, and let me see you this evening.” And
+taking the papers from his hand, she swept out of the room in a haughty
+state.
+
+The Captain and Mr. Scanlan exchanged looks, and were silent, but their
+glances were far more intelligible than aught either of them would have
+ventured to say aloud; and when the attorney's eyes, having followed her
+Ladyship to the door, turned and rested on the Captain, the other gave a
+brief short nod of assent, as though to say, “Yes, you are right; she's
+just the same as ever.”
+
+“And _you_, Captain,” said Scanlan, in his tone of natural
+familiarity,--“how is the world treating _you?_”
+
+“Devilish badly, Master Scanlan.”
+
+“Why, what is it doing, then?”
+
+“I'll tell you what it's doing! It's charging me fifty--ay, sixty per
+cent; it's protesting my bills, stimulating my blessed creditors to
+proceed against me, worrying my very life out of me with letters.
+Letters to the governor, letters to the Horse Guards, and, last of all,
+it has just lamed Bonesetter, the horse 'I stood to win' on for the
+Chester Cup, I would n't have taken four thousand for my book yesterday
+morning!”
+
+“Bad news all this.”
+
+“I believe you,” said he, lighting a cigar, and throwing another across
+the table to Scanlan. “It's just bad news, and I have nothing else for
+many a long day past. A fellow of your sort, Master Maurice, punting
+away at county races and small sweepstakes, has a precious deal better
+time of it than a captain of the King's Hussars with his head and
+shoulders in the Fleet.”
+
+“Come, come, who knows but luck will turn, Captain? Make a book on the
+Oaks.”
+
+“I've done it; and I'm in for it, too,” said the other, savagely.
+
+“Raise a few thousands, you can always sell a reversion.”
+
+“I have done that also,” said he, still more angrily.
+
+“With your position and advantages you could always marry well. If you'd
+just beat up the manufacturing districts, you'd get your eighty thousand
+as sure as I'm here! And then matrimony admits of a man's changing all
+his habits. He can sell off hunters, get rid of a racing stable, and
+twenty other little embarrassments, and only gain character by the
+economy.”
+
+“I don't care a brass farthing for that part of the matter, Scanlan. No
+man shall dictate to me how I 'm to spend my money. Do you just find me
+the tin, and I 'll find the talent to scatter it.”
+
+“If it can't be done by a post-obit--”
+
+“I tell you, sir,” cried Martin, peevishly, “as I have told you before,
+that has been done. There is such a thing as pumping a well dry, is n't
+there?”
+
+Scanlan made a sudden exclamation of horror; and after a pause, said,
+“Already!”
+
+“Ay, sir, already!”
+
+“I had my suspicions about it,” muttered Scanlan, gloomily.
+
+“You had? And how so, may I beg to ask?” said Martin, angrily.
+
+“I saw him down there, myself.”
+
+“Saw whom? Whom are you talking of?”
+
+“Of that Jew, of course. Mr. Merl, he calls himself.”
+
+A faint groan was all Martin's reply, as he turned away to hide his
+face.
+
+Scanlan watched him for a minute or so, and then resumed: “I guessed
+at once what he was at; _he_ never deceived me, talking about snipe and
+woodcocks, and pretending to care about hare-hunting. I saw my man at a
+glance. 'It's not sporting ever brought you down to these parts,' said
+I. '_Your_ game is young fellows, hard up for cash, willing to give up
+their birthright for a few thousands down, and never giving a second
+thought whether they paid twenty per cent, or a hundred and twenty.'
+Well, well, Captain, you ought to have told me all about it. There
+wasn't a man in Ireland could have putted you through like myself.”
+
+“How do you mean?” cried Martin, hurriedly.
+
+“Sure, when he was down in the West, what was easier? Faix, if I had
+only had the wind of a word that matters were so bad, I 'd have had
+the papers out of him long ago. You shake your head as if you did n't
+believe me; but take my word for it, I 'm right, sir. I 'd put a quarrel
+on him.”
+
+“_He'd_ not fight you!” said Martin, turning away in disappointment.
+
+“Maybe he wouldn't; but mightn't he be robbed? Couldn't he be waylaid,
+and carried off to the Islands? There was no need to kill him.
+Intimidation would do it all! I'd lay my head upon a block this minute
+if I would n't send him back to London without the back of a letter
+in his company; and what's more, a pledge that he 'd never tell what's
+happened to him!”
+
+“These cockney gents are more 'wide awake' than you suspect, Master
+Maurice, and the chances are that he never carried a single paper or
+parchment along with him.”
+
+“Worse for him, then,” said Scanlan. “He'd have to pass the rest of
+his days in the Arran Islands. But I'm not so sure he's as 'cute as you
+think him,” added Maurice, after a pause. “He left a little note-book
+once behind him that told some strange stories, by all accounts.”
+
+“What was that you speak of?” cried Martin, eagerly.
+
+“I did n't see it myself, but Simmy Crow told me of it; and that it was
+full of all the fellows he ruined,--how much he won from this man, what
+he carried off from that; and, moreover, there was your own name, and
+the date of the very evening that he finished you off! It was something
+in this wise: 'This night's work makes me an estated gentleman, _vice_
+Harry Martin, Esquire, retired upon less than half-pay!'”
+
+A terrible oath, uttered in all the vehemence of a malediction, burst
+from Martin, and seizing Scanlan's wrist, he shook his arm in an agony
+of passion.
+
+“I wish I had given you a hint about him, Master Scanlan,” said he,
+savagely.
+
+“It's too late to think of it now, Captain,” said the other; “the fellow
+is in Baden.”
+
+“Here?” asked Martin.
+
+“Ay. He came up the Rhine along with me; but he never recognized me,--on
+account of my moustaches perhaps,--he took me for a Frenchman or a
+German, I think. We parted at Mayence, and I saw no more of him.”
+
+“I would that I was to see no more of him!” said Martin, gloomily, as he
+walked into another room, banging the door heavily behind him.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXII. HOW PRIDE MEETS PRIDE
+
+Kate Henderson sat alone in her room reading a letter from her father,
+her thoughtful brow a shade more serious perhaps than its wont, and at
+times a faint, half-sickly smile moving her dimpled cheek. The interests
+of our story have no concern with that letter, save passingly, nor do
+we regret it. Enough, if we say it was in reply to one of her own,
+requesting permission to return home, until, as she phrased it, she
+could “obtain another service.” That the request had met scant favor was
+easy to see, as, folding up the letter, she laid it down beside her with
+a sigh and a muttered “I thought as much!--'So long as her Ladyship
+is pleased to accept of your services,'” said she, repeating aloud an
+expression of the writer. “Well, I suppose he's right; such is the true
+reading of the compact, as it is of every compact where there is wealth
+on one side, dependence on the other! Nor should I complain,” said
+she, still more resolutely, “if these same services could be rendered
+toilfully, but costing nothing of self-sacrifice in honorable feeling. I
+could be a drudge--a slave--to-morrow; I could stoop to any labor; but I
+cannot--no, I cannot--descend to companionship! They who hire us,” cried
+she, rising, and pacing the room in slow and measured tread, “have a
+right to our capacity. We are here to do their bidding; but they can
+lay no claim to that over which we ourselves have no control--our
+sympathies, our affections--we cannot sell these; we cannot always give
+them, even as a gift.” She paused, and opening the letter, read it for
+some seconds, and then flinging it down with a haughty gesture, said,
+“'Nothing menial--nothing to complain of in my station!' Can he not see
+that there is no such servitude as that which drags out existence, by
+subjecting, not head and hands, but heart and soul, to the dictates of
+another? The menial--the menial has the best of it. Some stipulate that
+they are not to wear a livery; but what livery exacts such degradation
+as this?” And she shook the rich folds of her heavy silk dress as she
+spoke. The tears rose up and dimmed her eyes, but they were tears of
+offended pride, and as they stole slowly along her cheeks, her features
+acquired an expression of intense haughtiness. “They who train their
+children to this career are but sorry calculators!--educating them but
+to feel the bitter smart of their station, to see more clearly the wide
+gulf that separates them from what they live amongst!” said she, in a
+voice of deep emotion.
+
+“Her Ladyship, Miss Henderson,” said a servant, throwing wide the door,
+and closing it after the entrance of Lady Dorothea, who swept into
+the room in her haughtiest of moods, and seated herself with all that
+preparation that betokened a visit of importance.
+
+“Take a seat, Miss Henderson,” said she. And Kate obeyed in silence.
+“If in the course of what I shall have to say to you,” resumed her
+Ladyship,--“if in what I shall feel it my _duty_ to say to you, I may
+be betrayed into any expression stronger than in a calmer moment would
+occur to me,--stronger in fact, than strict justice might warrant--”
+
+“I beg your Ladyship's pardon if I interrupt, but I would beg to
+remark--”
+
+“What?” said Lady Dorothea, proudly.
+
+“That simply your Ladyship's present caution is the best security for
+future propriety. I ask no other.”
+
+“You presume too far, young lady. I cannot answer that _my_ temper may
+not reveal sentiments that my judgment or my breeding might prefer to
+keep in abeyance.”
+
+“If the sentiments be there, my Lady, I should certainly say, better to
+avow them,” said Kate, with an air of most impassive coldness.
+
+“I 'm not aware that I have asked your advice on that head, Miss
+Henderson,” said she, almost insolently. “At the same time, your habits
+of late in this family may have suggested the delusion.”
+
+“Will your Ladyship pardon me if I confess I do not understand you?”
+
+“You shall have little to complain of on that score, Miss Henderson;
+I shall not speak in riddles, depend upon it. Nor should that be an
+obstacle if your intelligence were only the equal of your ambition.”
+
+“Now, indeed, is your Ladyship completely beyond me.”
+
+“Had you felt that I was as much 'above' you, Miss Henderson, it were
+more to the purpose.”
+
+“I sincerely hope that I have never forgotten all the deference I owe
+your Ladyship,” said Kate. Nor could humble words have taken a more
+humble accent; and yet they availed little to conciliate her to whom
+they were addressed; nay, this very humility seemed to irritate and
+provoke her to a greater show of temper, as with an insolent laugh she
+said,--“This mockery of respect never imposed on we, young lady. I have
+been bred and born in a rank where real deference is so invariable that
+the fictitious article is soon detected, had there been any hardy enough
+to attempt it.”
+
+Kate made no other answer to this speech than a deep inclination of her
+head. It might mean assent, submission, anything.
+
+“You may remember, Miss Henderson,” said her Ladyship, with all the
+formality of a charge in her manner,--“you may remember that on the day
+I engaged your services you were obliging enough to furnish me with a
+brief summary of your acquirements.” She paused, as if expecting some
+intimation of assent, and after an interval of a few seconds, Kate
+smiled, and said,--“It must have been a very meagre catalogue, my Lady.”
+
+“Quite the reverse. It was a perfect marvel to me how you ever
+found time to store your mind with such varied information; and yet,
+notwithstanding that imposing array of accomplishments, I now find that
+your modesty--perhaps out of deference to my ignorance--withheld fully
+as many more.”
+
+Kate's look of bewilderment at this speech was the only reply she made.
+
+“Oh, of course you do not understand me,” said Lady Dorothea,
+sneeringly; “but I mean to be most explicit. Have you any recollection
+of the circumstance I allude to?”
+
+“I remember perfectly the day, madam, I waited on you for the first
+time.”
+
+“That's exactly what I mean. Now, pray, has any portion of our discourse
+dwelt upon your mind?”
+
+“Yes, my Lady; a remark of your Ladyship's made a considerable
+impression upon me at the moment, and has continued frequently to rise
+to my recollection since that.”
+
+“May I ask what it was?”
+
+“It was with reference to the treatment I had been so long accustomed
+to in the family of the Duchesse de Luygnes, and which your Ladyship
+characterized by an epithet I have never forgotten. At the time I
+thought it severe; I have learned to see it just. You called it an
+'irreparable mischief.' Your Ladyship said most truly.”
+
+“I was never more convinced of the fact than at this very moment,” said
+Lady Dorothea, as a flush of anger covered her cheek. “The ill-judging
+condescension of your first protectors has left a very troublesome
+legacy for their successors. Your youth and inexperience--I do not
+desire to attribute it to anything more reprehensible--led you,
+probably, into an error regarding the privileges you thus enjoyed, and
+you fancied that you owed to your own claims what you were entirely
+indebted to from the favor of others.”
+
+“I have no doubt that the observation of your Ladyship is quite
+correct,” said Kate, calmly.
+
+“I sincerely wish that the conviction had impressed itself upon your
+conduct then,” said Lady Dorothea, whose temper was never so outraged
+as by the other's self-possession. “Had such been the case, I might have
+spared myself the unpleasantness of my present task.” Her passion
+was now fully roused, and with redoubled energy she continued:
+“Your ambition has taken a high flight, young lady, and, from the
+condescension by which I accorded you a certain degree of influence
+in this family, you have aspired to become its head. Do not
+affect any misconception of my meaning. My son has told me
+everything--everything--from your invaluable aid to him in his pecuniary
+difficulties, to your sage counsels on his betting-book; from the
+admirable advice you gave him as to his studies, to the disinterested
+offer of your own tuition. Be assured if _he_ has not understood all the
+advantages so generously presented to him, I, at least, appreciate them
+fully. I must acknowledge you have played your game cleverly, and you
+have made the mock independence of your character the mask of your
+designs. With another than myself you might have succeeded, too,”
+ said her Ladyship, with a smile of bitter irony; “but _I_ have few
+self-delusions, Miss Henderson, nor is there amongst the number that of
+believing that any one serves me, in any capacity, from any devotion
+to my own person. I natter myself, at least, that I have so much of
+humility.”
+
+“If I understand your Ladyship aright, I am charged with some designs on
+Captain Martin?” said Kate, calmly.
+
+“Yes; precisely so,” said Lady Dorothea, haughtily.
+
+“I can only protest that I am innocent of all such, my Lady,” said she,
+with an expression of great deference. “It is a charge that does not
+admit of any other refutation, since, if I appeal to my conduct, your
+Ladyship's suspicions would not exculpate me.”
+
+“Certainly not.”
+
+“I thought so. What, then, can I adduce? I'm sure your Ladyship's
+own delicacy will see that this is not a case where testimony can be
+invoked. I cannot--you would not ask me to--require an acquittal from
+the lips of Captain Martin himself; humble as I stand here, my Lady, you
+never could mean to expose me to this humiliation.” For the first time
+did her voice falter, and a sickly paleness came over her as she uttered
+the last words.
+
+“The humiliation which you had intended for this family, Miss Henderson,
+is alone what demands consideration from _me_. If what you call your
+exculpation requires Captain Martin's presence, I confess I see no
+objection to it.”
+
+“It is only, then, because your Ladyship is angry with me that you could
+bring yourself to think so, especially since another and much easier
+solution of the difficulty offers itself.”
+
+“How so? What do you mean?”
+
+“To send me home, madam.”
+
+“I understand you, young lady. I am to send you back to your father's
+house as one whose presence here was too dangerous, whose attractions
+could only be resisted by means of absence and distance. A very
+interesting martyrdom might have been made of it, I 've no doubt, and
+even some speculation as to the conduct of a young gentleman so suddenly
+bereaved of the object of his affections. But all this is much too
+dignified for me. _My_ son shall be taught to respect himself without
+the intervention of any contrivance.”
+
+[Illustration: 256]
+
+As she uttered the last words, she arose and approached the bell.
+
+“Your Ladyship surely is not going--”
+
+“I am going to send for Captain Martin, Miss Henderson.”
+
+“Do not, I entreat of you,--I implore your Ladyship,” cried Kate, with
+her clasped hands trembling as she spoke.
+
+“This agitation is not without a cause, and would alone decide me to
+call for my son.”
+
+“If I have ever deserved well at your hands, my Lady,--if I have served
+you faithfully in anything,--if my devotion has lightened you of one
+care, or aided you through one difficulty,--spare me, oh, spare me, I
+beseech you, this--degradation!”
+
+“I have a higher consideration to consult here, Miss Henderson, than
+any which can have reference to you.” She pulled the bell violently, and
+while her hand still held the cord, the servant entered. “Tell Captain
+Martin to come here,” said she, and sat down.
+
+Kate leaned her arm upon the chimney-piece, and, resting her head on it,
+never uttered a word.
+
+For several minutes the silence was unbroken on either side. At last
+Lady Dorothea started suddenly, and said,--“We cannot receive Captain
+Martin here.”
+
+“Your Ladyship is full of consideration,” said Kate, bitterly. “For a
+moment I had thought it was only an additional humiliation to which you
+had destined me.”
+
+“Follow me into the drawing-room, Miss Henderson,” said Lady Dorothea,
+proudly, as she left the room. And with slow, submissive mien Kate
+quitted the chamber, and walked after her.
+
+Scarcely had the door of the drawing-room been closed upon them than it
+was re-opened to admit Captain Martin. He was booted and spurred for
+his afternoon canter, and seemed in no wise pleased at the sudden
+interruption to his project.
+
+“They said you wanted me,” cried he; “and here have I been searching for
+you in your dressing-room, and all over the house.”
+
+“I desire to speak with you,” said she, proudly; and she motioned to a
+chair.
+
+“I trust the _séance_ is to be a brief one, otherwise I 'll beg a
+postponement,” said he, half laughingly. Then turning his glance towards
+Kate, he remarked for the first time the deathlike color of her face,
+and an expression of repressed suffering that all her self-control
+could not conceal. “Has anything happened? What is it?” said he, in a
+half-whisper.
+
+But she never replied, nor even seemed to heed his question.
+
+“Tell me, I beseech you,” cried he, turning to Lady Dorothea,--“tell me,
+has anything gone wrong?”
+
+“It is precisely on that account I have sent for you, Captain Martin,”
+ said her Ladyship, as she assigned to him a seat with a motion of her
+hand. “It is because a great deal has gone wrong here--and were it not
+for my vigilance, much more still likely to follow it--I have sent for
+you, sir, that you should hear from this young lady's lips a denial
+which, I own, has not satisfied _me_; nor shall it, till it be made
+in your presence and meet with your corroboration. Your looks, Miss
+Henderson,” said she, addressing her, “would imply that all the
+suffering of the present moment falls to _your_ share; but I would beg
+you to bear in mind what a person in _my_ sphere must endure at the bare
+possibility of the event which now demands investigation.”
+
+“Good heavens! will not you tell me what it is?” exclaimed Martin, in
+the last extremity of impatience.
+
+“I have sent for you, sir,” resumed she, “that you should hear Miss
+Henderson declare that no attentions on your part--no assiduities, I
+should perhaps call them--have ever been addressed to her; that, in
+fact”--here her Ladyship became embarrassed in her explanation,--“that,
+in fact, those counsels--those very admirable aids to your conduct
+which she on so many occasions has vouchsafed to afford you--have had
+no object--no ulterior object, I should perhaps call it--and that
+your--your intercourse has ever been such as beseems the heir of Cro'
+Martin, and the daughter of the steward on that property!”
+
+“By Jove, I can make nothing of all this!” cried the Captain, whose
+bewildered looks fully corroborated the assertion.
+
+“Lady Dorothea, sir, requires you to assure her that I have never
+made love to you,” said Kate Henderson, with a look of scorn that her
+Ladyship did not dare to reply to. “_I_,” added she, “have already given
+my pledge on this subject. I trust that your testimony will not gainsay
+me.”
+
+“Confound me if I can fathom it at all!” said he, more distracted than
+ever. “If you are alluding to the offer I made you--”
+
+“The offer you made,” cried Lady Dorothea. “When?--how?--in what wise?”
+
+“No, no, I will speak out,” said he, addressing Kate. “I am certain
+_you_ never divulged it; but I cannot accept that all the honorable
+dealing should be on one side only. Yes, my Lady, however you learned
+it, I cannot guess, but it is perfectly true; I asked Miss Henderson to
+be my wife, and she refused me.”
+
+A low, faint sigh broke from Lady Dorothea, and she fell back into her
+chair.
+
+“She would have it,--it's not my fault,--you are witness it's not,”
+ muttered he to Kate. But she motioned him in silence to the door, and
+then opening the window, that the fresh air might enter, stood silently
+beside the chair.
+
+A slight shivering shook her; and Lady Dorothea--her cheeks almost
+lividly pale--raised her eyes and fixed them on Kate Henderson.
+
+“You have had your triumph!” said she, in a low but firm voice.
+
+“I do not feel it such, madam,” said Kate, calmly. “Nor is it in a
+moment of humiliation like this that a thought of triumph can enter.”
+
+“Hear me,--stoop down lower. You can leave this--tomorrow, if you wish
+it.”
+
+Kate bowed slowly in acquiescence.
+
+“I have no need to ask you that what has occurred here should never be
+mentioned.”
+
+“You may trust me, madam.”
+
+“I feel that I may. There--I am better--quite well, now! You may leave
+me.” Kate courtesied deeply, and moved towards the door. “One word
+before you go. Will you answer me one question? I'll ask but one; but
+your answer must be full, or not at all.”
+
+“So it shall be, madam. What is it?”
+
+“I want to know the reason--on what grounds--you declined the proposal
+of my son?”
+
+“For the same good reason, madam, that should have prevented his ever
+making it.”
+
+“Disparity--inequality of station, you mean?”
+
+“Something like it, madam. Our union would have been both a blunder
+and a paradox. Each would have married beneath him!” And once more
+courtesying, and with an air of haughty dignity, Kate withdrew, and left
+her Ladyship to her own thoughts.
+
+Strange and conflicting were the same thoughts; at one moment
+stimulating her to projects of passionate vengeance, at the next
+suggesting the warmest measures of reconciliation and affection. These
+indeed predominated, for in her heart pride seemed the emblem of all
+that was great, noble, or exalted; and when she saw that sentiment,
+not fostered by the accidents of fortune, not associated with birth,
+lineage, and high station, but actually rising superior to the absence
+of all these, she almost felt a species of worship for one so gloriously
+endowed.
+
+“She might be a duchess!” was the only speech she uttered, and the words
+revealed a whole volume of her meditations. It was curious enough
+how completely all recollection of her son was merged and lost in the
+greater interest Kate's character supplied. But so is it frequently in
+life. The traits which most resemble our own are those we alone attach
+importance to, and what we fancy admiration of another is very often
+nothing more than the gratified contemplation of ourselves.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIII. MAURICE SCANLAN ADVISES WITH “HIS COUNSEL”
+
+Jack Massingbred sat in expectation of Mr. Merl's arrival till nigh ten
+o'clock; and if not manifesting any great degree of impatience at the
+delay, still showing unmistakable signs of uneasiness, as though the
+event were not destitute of some cause for anxiety. At last a note
+arrived to say that a sudden and imperative necessity to start at once
+for England would prevent Mr. Merl from keeping his appointment. “I
+shall be in town by Tuesday,” continued the writer, “and if Captain
+Martin has any communication to make to me respecting his affairs, let
+it be addressed to Messrs. Twining and Scape's, solicitors, Furnival's
+Inn. I hope that with regard to your own matter, you will make suitable
+provision for the acceptance due on the ninth of next month. Any further
+renewal would prove a great inconvenience to yours
+
+“Very sincerely and to command,
+
+“Herman Merl.”
+
+“Negotiations have ended ere they were opened, and war is proclaimed at
+once,” said Massingbred, as he read over this brief epistle. “You may
+come forth, Master Scanlan,” added he, opening the door of his bedroom,
+and admitting that gentleman. “Our Hebrew is an overmatch for us. He
+declines to appear.”
+
+“Why so? How is that?” asked Scanlan.
+
+“There 's his note,” said the other; “read and digest it.”
+
+“This smacks of suspicion,” said Scanlan. “He evidently suspects that we
+have concerted some scheme to entangle him, and he is resolved not to be
+caught.”
+
+“Precisely; he 'll do nothing without advice. Well, well, if he but knew
+how unprepared we are, how utterly deficient not only in resources,
+but actually in the commonest information of our subject, he might have
+ventured here in all safety.”
+
+“Has Captain Martin not put you in possession of the whole case, then?”
+
+“Why, my good Scanlan, the Captain knows nothing, actually nothing, of
+his difficulties. He has, it is true, a perfect conviction that he is
+out of his depth; but whether he be in five fathom water or fifty, he
+doesn't know; and, what 's stranger, he does n't care!”
+
+“After all, if it be over his head, I suppose it's pretty much the same
+thing,” said Scanlan, with a bitter laugh.
+
+“I beg to offer my dissent to that doctrine,” said Mas-singbred, gently.
+“Where the water is only just out of a man's depth, the shore is usually
+not very distant. Now, if we were quite certain such were the case here,
+we might hope to save him. If, on the contrary, he has gone down out
+of all sight of land--” He stopped, gazed steadily at Scanlan for a few
+seconds, and then in a lower tone, not devoid of a touch of anxiety,
+said, “Eh, do you really know this to be so?”
+
+“I'll tell you all I know, Mr. Massingbred,” said he, as having turned
+the key in the door, he took his seat at the table. “And I 'll tell you,
+besides, how I came by the knowledge, and I 'll leave it to your own
+judgment to say what his chance is worth. When Merl was stopping at
+Kilkieran, he left there a little pocket-book, with memorandums of all
+his secret transactions. Mighty nice doings they were,--and profitable,
+too,--as you 'll perceive when you look over it.”
+
+“You have it, then,” cried Jack, eagerly.
+
+“Here it is,” said he, producing the precious volume, and laying his
+hand firmly on it. “Here it is now. I got it under a pledge to hand
+it to himself, which I need n't tell you I never had the slightest
+intention of performing. It's not every day in the week one has the good
+luck to get a peep into the enemy's brief, and this is exactly what you
+'ll find here.”
+
+Massingbred stretched out his hand to take the book, but Scanlan quietly
+replaced it in his pocket, and, with a dry and very peculiar smile,
+said,--“Have a little patience, sir. We must go regularly to work here.
+You shall see this book--you shall examine it--and even retain it--but
+it must be on conditions.” “Oh, you may confide in me, Scanlan. Even
+if Mr. Merl were my friend,--which I assure you he is not,--I could not
+venture to betray _you_.”
+
+“That's not exactly what I 'm thinking of, Mr. Massingbred. I 'm certain
+you 'd say nothing to Merl of what you saw here. My mind is easy enough
+upon that score.”
+
+“Well, then, in what direction do your suspicions point?”
+
+“They 're not suspicions, sir,” was the dry response.
+
+“Fears,--hesitations,--whatever you like to call them.”
+
+“Are we on honor here, Mr. Massingbred?” said Scanlan, after a pause.
+
+“For myself, I say decidedly so,” was the firm reply.
+
+“That will do, sir. I ask only one pledge, and I 'm sure you 'll not
+refuse it: if you should think, on reflection, that what I propose to
+you this evening is neither practicable nor advisable,--that, in fact,
+you could neither concur in it nor aid it,--that you'll never, so long
+as you live, divulge it to any one,--man, woman, or child. Have I that
+promise?”
+
+“I think I may safely say that.”
+
+“Ay, but do you say it?”
+
+“I do; here is my promise.”
+
+“That will do. I don't ask a word more. Now, Mr. Massingbred,” said he,
+replacing the book on the table, “I 'll tell you in the fewest words I
+can how the case stands,--and brevity is essential, for we have not an
+hour to lose. Merl is gone to London about this business, and we
+'ll have to follow him. _He 'd_ be very glad to be rid of the affair
+to-morrow, and he 'll not waste many days till he is so. Read that bit
+there, sir,” said he, pointing to a few closely written lines in the
+note-book.
+
+“Good heavens!” cried Jack, “this is downright impossible. This is a
+vile falsehood, devised for some infernal scheme of roguery. Who 'd
+believe such a trumpery piece of imposition? Ah, Scanlan, you are not
+the wily fellow I took you for. This same precious note-book was
+dropped as a decoy, as I once knew a certain noble lord to have left his
+betting-book behind him. An artful device, that can only succeed once,
+however. And you really believed all this?”
+
+“I did, and I do believe it,” said Scanlan, firmly.
+
+“If you really say so, we must put the matter to the test. Captain
+Martin is here,--we 'll send for him, and ask him the question; but I
+must say I don't think your position will be a pleasant one after that
+reply is given.”
+
+“I must remind you of your promise already, it seems,” said Scanlan.
+“You are pledged to say nothing of this, if you cannot persuade yourself
+to act along with me in it.”
+
+“Very true,” said Massingbred, slowly; “but I never pledged myself to
+credit an impossibility.”
+
+“I ask nothing of the kind. I only claim that you should adhere to what
+you have said already. If this statement be untrue, all my speculations
+about it fall to the ground at once. I am the dupe of a stale trick, and
+there's an end of it.”
+
+“Ay, so far all well, Master Scanlan; but _I_ have no fancy to be
+associated in the deception. Can't you see that?”
+
+“I can, sir, and I do. But perhaps there may be a readier way of
+satisfying your doubts than calling for the Captain's evidence. There is
+a little page in this same volume devoted to one Mr. Massingbred. _You_
+surely may have some knowledge about _his_ affairs. Throw your eye over
+that, sir, and say what you think of it.”
+
+Massingbred took the book in his hand and perused the place pointed out
+to him.
+
+“By Jove! this _is_ very strange,” said he, after a pause. “Here is my
+betting-book on the St. Hubert all transcribed in full,--however the Jew
+boy got hold of it; and here 's mention of a blessed hundred-pound note,
+which, in less than five years, has grown to upwards of a thousand!”
+
+“And all true? All fact?”
+
+“Perfectly true,--most lamentable fact, Master Scanlan!
+How precise the scoundrel is in recording this loan as 'after supper at
+Dubos'!' Ay, and here again is my unlucky wager about Martingale for
+the 'Chester,' and the handicap with Armytage. Scanlan, I recant my
+rash impression. This is a real work of its great author! _Aut Merl--aut
+Diabolus_.”
+
+“I could have sworn it,” said Scanlan.
+
+“To be sure you could, man, and have done, ere this time o' day, fifty
+other things on fainter evidence. But let me tell you it requires strong
+testimony to make one believe that there should live such a consummate
+fool in the world as would sell his whole reversionary right to a
+splendid state of some twelve thousand--”
+
+“Fifteen at the lowest,” broke in Scanlan.
+
+“Worse again. Fifteen thousand a year for twenty-two thousand seven
+hundred and sixty-four pounds sterling.”
+
+“And he has done it.”
+
+“No, no; the thing is utterly incredible, man. Any one must see that
+if he did want to make away with his inheritance, that he could have
+obtained ten, twenty times that sum amongst the tribe of Merl.”
+
+“No doubt, if he were free to negotiate the transaction. But you 'll
+see, on looking over these pages, in what a network of debt he was
+involved,--how, as early as four years ago, at the Cape, he owed Merl
+large sums, lost at play, and borrowed at heavy interest. So that,
+at length, this same twenty-two thousand, assumed as paid for the
+reversion, was in reality but the balance of an immense demand for money
+lost, bills renewed, sums lent, debts discharged, and so on. But to
+avoid the legal difficulty of an 'immoral obligation,' the bale of the
+reversion is limited to this simple payment of twenty-two thousand--”
+
+“Seven hundred and sixty-four pounds, sir. Don't let us diminish the
+price by a fraction,” said Massingbred. “Wonderful people ye are, to be
+sure; and whether in your talent for savings, or dislike for sausages,
+alike admirable and praiseworthy! What a strange circle do events
+observe, and how irrevocable is the law of the material, the stern rule
+of the moral world, decay, decomposition, and regeneration following
+on each other; and as great men's ashes beget grubs, so do illustrious
+houses generate in their rottenness the race of Herman Merls.”
+
+Scanlan tried to smile at the rhapsodical conceit, but for some private
+reason of his own he did not relish nor enjoy it.
+
+“So, then, according to the record,” said Massingbred, holding up the
+book, “there is an end of the 'Martins of Cro' Martin'?”
+
+“That's it, sir, in one word.”
+
+“It is too shocking--too horrible to believe,” said Mas-singbred, with
+more of sincerity than his manner usually displayed. “Eh, Scanlan,--is
+it not so?” added he, as waiting in vain for some show of concurrence.
+
+“I believe, however,” said the other, “it's the history of every great
+family's downfall: small liabilities growing in secrecy to become heavy
+charges, severe pressure exerted by those out of whose pockets came
+eventually the loans to meet the difficulties,--shrewdness and rapacity
+on one side, folly and wastefulness on the other.”
+
+“Ay, ay; but who ever heard of a whole estate disposed of for less than
+two years of its rental?”
+
+“That's exactly the case, sir,” said he, in the same calm tone as
+before; “and what makes matters worse, we have little time to look out
+for expedients. Magennis will put us on our title at the new trial
+next assizes. Merl will take fright at the insecurity of his claim, and
+dispose of it,--Heaven knows to whom,--perhaps to that very league now
+formed to raise litigation against all the old tenures.”
+
+“Stop, stop, Scanlan! There is quite enough difficulty before us,
+without conjuring up new complications,” cried Massingbred. “Have you
+anything to suggest? What ought to be done here?”
+
+Scanlan was silent, and leaning his head on his hand seemed lost in
+thought.
+
+“Come, Scanlan, you 've thought over all this ere now. Tell me, man,
+what do you advise?”
+
+Scanlan was silent.
+
+“Out with it, Scanlan. I know, I feel that you have a resource in store
+against all these perils! Out with it, man.”
+
+“Have I any need to remind you of your promise, Mr. Massingbred?” asked
+the other, stealthily.
+
+“Not the slightest, Scanlan. I never forget a pledge.”
+
+“Very well, sir; that's enough,” said Scanlan, speaking rapidly, and
+like one anxious to overcome his confusion by an effort. “We have just
+one thing to do. We must buy out Merl. Of course as reasonably as we
+can, but buy him out we must. What between his own short experiences of
+Ireland, and the exposure that any litigation is sure to bring with it,
+he's not likely to be hard to deal with, particularly when we are in
+possession, as I suppose we may be, through _your_ intimacy with the
+Captain, of all the secret history of these transactions. I take it for
+granted that he 'll be as glad of a settlement that keeps all 'snug,'
+as ourselves. Less than the twenty-two thousand we can't expect he'll
+take.”
+
+“And how are we to raise that sum without Mr. Martin's concurrence?”
+
+“I wish that was the only difficulty,” said Scanlan.
+
+“What do you mean?”
+
+“Just this: that in his present state no act of his would stand. Sure
+his mind is gone. There isn't a servant about him could n't swear to his
+fancies and imaginations. No, sir, the whole thing must be done amongst
+ourselves. I have eight thousand some hundred pounds of my own available
+at a moment; old Nelligan would readily--for an assignment of the
+Brewery and the Market Square--advance us ten thousand more;--the money,
+in short, could be had--more if we wanted it--the question--”
+
+“As to the dealing with Merl?” broke in Jack.
+
+“No, sir, not that, though of course it is a most important
+consideration.”
+
+“Well, what then?”
+
+“As to the dealing with Maurice Scanlan, sir,” said he, making a great
+effort. “There's the whole question in one word.”
+
+“I don't see that there can be any grave obstacle against that. You know
+the property.”
+
+“Every acre of it.”
+
+“You know how you'd like your advance to be secured to you--on what part
+of the estate. The conditions, I am certain, might be fairly left in
+your own hands; I feel assured you'd not ask nor expect anything beyond
+what was equitable and just.”
+
+“Mr. Massingbred, we might talk this way a twelvemonth, and never be a
+bit nearer our object than when we began,” said Scanlan, resolutely. “I
+want two things, and I won't take less than the two together. One is to
+be secured in the agency of the estate, under nobody's control whatever
+but the Martins themselves. No Mister Repton to say 'Do this, sign
+that, seal the other.' I 'll have nobody over me but him that owns the
+property.”
+
+“Well, and the other condition?”
+
+“The other--the other--” said Scanlan, growing very red--“the other, I
+suppose, will be made the great difficulty--at least, on my Lady's side.
+She 'll be bristling up about her uncle the Marquis, and her half-cousin
+the Duke, and she'll be throwing in my teeth who I am, and what I was,
+and all the rest of it, forgetting all the while where they 'll be if
+they reject my terms, and how much the most noble Viceroy will do for
+her when she has n't a roof over her head, and how many letters his
+Grace will write when she has n't a place to address them to,--not to
+say that the way they're treating the girl at this very moment shows
+how much they think of her as one of themselves, living with old Catty
+Broon, and cantering over the country without as much as a boy after
+her. Sure, if they were n't Pride itself, it's glad they might be
+that a--a--a respectable man, that is sure to be devoted to their own
+interests forever, and one that knows the estate well, and, moreover
+than that, that doesn't want to be going over to London,--no, nor even
+to Dublin,--that doesn't care a brass farthing for the castle and the
+lodge in the park,--that, in short, Mr. Massingbred, asks nothing for
+anybody, but is willing to trust to his industry and what he knows of
+life--There it is now,--there's my whole case,” said he, stammering,
+and growing more and more embarrassed. “I haven't a word to add to it,
+except this: that if they'd rather be ruined entirely, left without
+stick or stone, roof or rafter in the world, than take my offer, they
+'ve nothing to blame but themselves and their own infernal pride!” And
+with this peroration, to deliver which cost him an effort like a small
+apoplexy, Maurice Scanlan sat down at the table, and crossed his arms on
+his breast like one prepared to await his verdict with a stout heart.
+
+At last, and with the start of one who “suddenly bethought him of a
+precaution that ought not to be neglected,” he said,--“Of course, this is
+so far all between ourselves, for if I was to go up straight to my Lady,
+and say, 'I want to marry your niece,' I think I know what the answer
+would be.”
+
+Although Massingbred had followed this rambling and incoherent effort
+at explanation with considerable attention, it was only by the very
+concluding words that he was quite certain of having comprehended
+its meaning. If we acknowledge that he felt almost astounded by the
+pretension, it is but fair to add that nothing in his manner or air
+betokened this feeling. Nay, he even by a slight gesture of the head
+invited the other to continue; and when the very abrupt conclusion did
+ensue, he sat patiently, as it were revolving the question in his own
+mind.
+
+Had Scanlan been waiting for the few words which from a jury-box
+determine a man's fate forever, he could not have suffered more acute
+anxiety than he felt while contemplating the other's calm and unmoved
+countenance. A bold, open rejection of his plan, a defiant repudiation
+of his presumption, would not probably have pained him more, if as much
+as the impassive quietness of Jack's demeanor.
+
+“If you think that this is a piece of impudence on my part, Mr.
+Massingbred,--if it's your opinion that in aspiring to be connected with
+the Martins I'm forgetting my place and my station, just say so at once.
+Tell it to me frankly, and I'll know how to bear it,” said he, at last,
+when all further endurance had become impossible.
+
+“Nothing of the kind, my dear Scanlan,” said Jack, smiling blandly.
+“Whatever snobbery once used to prevail on these subjects, we have come
+to live in a more generous age. The man of character, the man who unites
+an untarnished reputation to very considerable abilities, with talent to
+win any station, and virtues to adorn it, such a man wants no blazonry
+to illustrate his name, and it is mainly by such accessions that our
+English aristocracy, refreshed and invigorated as it is, preserves its
+great acknowledged superiority.”
+
+It would have required a more acute critic than Maurice Scanlan to have
+detected the spirit in which this rhapsody was uttered. The apparent
+earnestness of the manner did not exactly consort with a certain
+pomposity of enunciation and an over-exactness in the tone of the
+declamation. On the whole Maurice did not like it. It smacked to his
+ears very like what he had often listened to in the Four Courts at the
+close of a “junior's” address; and there was a Nisi Prius jingle in it
+that sounded marvellously unlike conviction.
+
+“If, then,” resumed Massingbred, “they who by the accidents of fortune,
+or the meritorious services of their forefathers, represent rather in
+their elevation the gratitude of their country than--”
+
+“I 'm sorry to interrupt you, sir,--indeed, I'm ashamed of myself for
+doing it,--for your remarks are beautiful, downright eloquent; but the
+truth is, this is a case touches me too closely to make me care for
+a grand speech about it. I 'd rather have just a few words--to the
+evidence, as one might say,--or a simple answer to a plain question, Can
+this thing be done?”
+
+“There's where you beat us, Scanlan. There's where we cannot approach
+you. You are practical. You reduce a matter at once to the simple
+dimension of efficacy first, then possibility, and with these two
+conditions before you you reject the fifty extraneous considerations,
+outlying contingencies, that distract and embarrass such fellows as me.
+
+“I have no pretension to abilities like yours, Mr. Massingbred,” said
+Scanlan, with unassumed modesty.
+
+“Ah, Scanlan, yours are the true gifts, take my word for it!--the
+recognized currency by which a man obtains what he seeks for; and
+there never was an era in which such qualities bore a higher value. Our
+statesmen, our diplomatists, our essay-writers,--nay, our very poets,
+addressing themselves as they do to the correction of social wrongs and
+class inequalities,--they are all 'practical'! That is the type of our
+time, and future historians will talk of this as the 'Age of Fact'!”
+
+If one were to judge from Maurice Scanlan's face during the delivery of
+this peroration, it might be possibly inferred that he scarcely accepted
+the speech as an illustration in point, since anything less practical he
+had never listened to.
+
+“When I think,” resumed he, “what a different effect I should have
+produced in the 'House' had I possessed this requisite! You, possibly,
+may be under the impression that I achieved a great success?”
+
+“Well, I did hear as much,” said Scanlan, half doggedly.
+
+“Perhaps it was so. A first speech, you are aware, is always listened to
+indulgently; not so a second, especially if a man rises soon after his
+first effort. They begin to suspect they have got a talkative fellow,
+eager and ready to speak on every question; they dread that, and even if
+he be clever, they 'll vote him a bore!”
+
+“Faith! I don't wonder at it!” said Maurice, with a hearty sincerity in
+the tone.
+
+“Yet, after all, Scanlan, let us be just! How in Heaven's name, are men
+to become debaters, except by this same training? You require men not
+alone to be strong upon the mass of questions that come up in debate,
+but you expect them to be prompt with their explanations, always
+prepared with their replies. Not ransacking history, or searching
+through 'Hansard,' you want a man who, at the spur of the moment,
+can rise to defend, to explain, to simplify, or mayhap to assail, to
+denounce, to annihilate. Is n't that true?”
+
+“I don't want any such thing, sir!” said Scanlan, with a sulky
+determination that there was no misunderstanding.
+
+“You don't. Well, what _do_ you ask for?”
+
+“I'll tell you, sir, and in very few words, too, what I do _not_ ask
+for! I don't ask to be humbugged, listening to this, that, and the
+other, that I have nothing to say to; to hear how you failed or why you
+succeeded; what you did or what you could n't do. I put a plain case to
+you, and I wanted as plain an answer. And as to your flattering me about
+being practical, or whatever you call it, it's a clean waste of time,
+neither less nor more!”
+
+“The agency and the niece!” said Massingbred, with a calm solemnity that
+this speech had never disconcerted.
+
+“Them 's the conditions!” said Scanlan, reddening over face and
+forehead.
+
+“You 're a plucky fellow, Scanlan, and by Jove I like you for it!” said
+Massingbred. And for once there was a hearty sincerity in the way
+he spoke. “If a man _is_ to have a fall, let it be at least over a
+'rasper,' not be thrown over a furrow in a ploughed field! You fly
+at high game, but I'm far from saying you'll not succeed.” And with a
+jocular laugh he turned away and left him.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIV. A CONSULTATION
+
+Jack Massingbred was one of those who, in questions of difficulty,
+resort to the pen in preference to personal interference. It was a fancy
+of his that he wrote better than he talked. Very probably he thought
+so because the contrary was the fact. On the present occasion another
+motive had also its influence. It was Lady Dorothea that he addressed,
+and he had no especial desire to commit himself to a direct interview.
+
+His object was to convey Mr. Scanlan's propositions,--to place them
+fully and intelligibly before her Ladyship without a syllable of comment
+on his own part, or one word which could be construed into advocacy or
+reprobation of them. In truth, had he been called upon for an opinion,
+it would have sorely puzzled him what to say. To rescue a large estate
+from ruin was, to be sure, a very considerable service, but to accept
+Maurice Scanlan as a near member of one's family seemed a very heavy
+price even for that. Still, if the young lady liked him, singular as the
+choice might appear, other objections need not be insurmountable. The
+Martins were very unlikely ever to make Ireland their residence again,
+they would see little or nothing of this same Scanlan connection, “and,
+after all,” thought Jack, “if we can only keep the disagreeables of
+this life away from daily intercourse, only knowing them through the
+post-office and at rare intervals, the compact is not a bad one.”
+
+Massingbred would have liked much to consult Miss Henderson upon the
+question itself, and also upon his manner of treating it; but to touch
+upon the point of a marriage of inequality with her, would have been
+dangerous ground. It was scarcely possible he could introduce the topic
+without dropping a word, or letting fall a remark she could not seize
+hold of. It was the theme, of all others, in which her sensitiveness
+was extreme; nor could he exactly say whether she sneered at a
+_mésalliance,_ or at the insolent tone of society regarding it.
+
+Again he bethought him of the ungraciousness of the task he had assumed,
+if, as was most probable, Lady Dorothea should feel Mr. Scanlan's
+pretensions an actual outrage. “She'll never forgive me for stating
+them, that's certain,” said he; “but will she do so if I decline to
+declare them, or worse still, leave them to the vulgar interpretation
+Scanlan himself is sure to impart to them?” While he thus hesitated and
+debated with himself, now altering a phrase here, now changing a word
+there, Captain Martin entered the room, and threw himself into a chair
+with a more than ordinary amount of weariness and exhaustion.
+
+“The governor's worse to-day, Massingbred,” said he, with a sigh.
+
+“No serious change, I hope?” said Jack.
+
+“I suspect there is, though,” replied the other. “They sent for me from
+Lescour's last night, where I was winning smartly. Just like _my_ luck
+always, to be called away when I was 'in vein,' and when I got here,
+I found Schubart, and a French fellow whom I don't know, had just bled
+him. It must have been touch and go, for when I saw him he was very
+ill--very ill indeed--and they call him better.”
+
+“It was a distinct attack, then,--a seizure of some sort?” asked
+Massingbred.
+
+“Yes, I think they said so,” said he, lighting his cigar.
+
+“But he has rallied, has n't he?”
+
+“Well, I don't fancy he has. He lifts his eyes at times, and seems to
+look about for some one, and moves his lips a little, but you could
+scarcely say that he was conscious, though my mother insists he is.”
+
+“What does Schubart think?”
+
+“Who minds these fellows?” said he, impatiently. “They're only
+speculating on what will be said of themselves, and so they go on: 'If
+this does not occur, and the other does not happen, we shall see him
+better this evening.'”
+
+“This is all very bad,” said Massingbred, gloomily--“It's a deuced deal
+worse than you know of, old fellow,” said Martin, bitterly.
+
+“Perhaps not worse than I suspect,” said Massingbred.
+
+“What do you mean by that?”
+
+Massingbred did not reply, but sat deep in thought for some time. “Come,
+Martin,” said he, at last, “let us be frank; in a few hours it may be,
+perhaps, too late for frankness. Is this true?” And he handed to him
+Merl's pocket-book, open at a particular page.
+
+Martin took it, and as his eyes traced the lines a sickly paleness
+covered his features, and in a voice scarcely stronger than an infant's,
+he said, “It is so.”
+
+“The whole reversionary right?”
+
+“Every acre--every stick and stone of it--except,” added he, with a
+sickly attempt at a smile, “a beggarly tract, near Kiltimmon, Mary has a
+charge upon.”
+
+“Read that, now,” said Jack, handing him his recently written letter.
+“I was about to send it without showing it to you; but it is as well you
+saw it.”
+
+While Martin was reading, Massingbred never took his eyes from him. He
+watched with all his own practised keenness the varying emotions the
+letter cost; but he saw that, as he finished, selfishness had triumphed,
+and that the prospect of safety had blunted every sentiment as to the
+price.
+
+“Well,” said Jack, “what say you to that?”
+
+“I say it's a right good offer, and on no account to be refused. There
+is some hitch or other--I can't say what, but it exists, I know--which
+ties us up against selling. Old Repton and the governor, and I think
+my mother, too, are in the secret; but I never was, so that Scanlan's
+proposal is exactly what meets the difficulty.”
+
+“But do you like his conditions?” asked Jack.
+
+“I can't say I do. But what 's that to the purpose? One must play the
+hand that is dealt to them; there 's no choice! I know that, as agent
+over the property, he 'll make a deuced good thing of it for himself. It
+will not be five nor ten per cent will satisfy Master Maurice.”
+
+“Yes; but there is another condition, also,” said Jack, quietly.
+
+“About Mary? Well, of course it's not the kind of thing one likes.
+The fellow is the lowest of the low; but even that's better, in some
+respects, than a species of half gentility, for he actually has n't
+one in the world belonging to him. No one ever heard of his father or
+mother, and he's not the fellow to go in search of them.”
+
+“I confess that _is_ a consideration,” said Massingbred, with a tone
+that might mean equally raillery or the reverse, “so that you see no
+great objection on that score?”
+
+“I won't say I 'd choose the connection; but 'with a bad book it's at
+least a hedge,'--eh, Massy, is n't it?”
+
+“Perhaps so,” said the other, dryly.
+
+“It does n't strike me,” said Martin, as he glanced his eye again over
+the letter, “that you have advocated Scanlan's plan. You have left it
+without, apparently, one word of comment. Does that mean that you don't
+approve of it?”
+
+“I never promised him I would advocate it,” said Jack.
+
+“I have no doubt, Massingbred, you think me a deuced selfish fellow for
+treating the question in this fashion; but just reflect a little,
+and see how innocently, as I may say, I was led into all these
+embarrassments. I never suspected how deep I was getting. Merl used to
+laugh at me if I asked him how we stood; he always induced me to regard
+our dealings as trifles, to be arranged to-day, to-morrow, or ten years
+hence.”
+
+“I am not unversed in that sort of thing, unluckily,” said Massingbred,
+interrupting him. “There is another consideration, however, in the
+present case, to which I do not think you have given sufficient weight.”
+
+“As to Mary, my dear fellow, the matter is simple enough. Our consent
+is a mere form. If she liked Scanlan, she 'd marry him against all the
+Martins that ever were born; and if she did n't, she 'd not swerve an
+inch if the whole family were to go to the stake for it. She 's not one
+for half measures, I promise you; and then, remember, that though she
+is one 'of us,' and well born, she has never mingled with the society
+of her equals; she has always lived that kind of life you saw
+yourself,--taking a cast with the hounds one day, nursing some old hag
+with the rheumatism the next. I 've seen her hearing a class in the
+village school, and half an hour after, breaking in a young horse to
+harness. And what between her habits and her tastes, she is really not
+fit for what you and I would call the world.” As Massingbred made no
+reply, Martin ascribed his silence to a part conviction, and went on:
+“Mind, I 'm not going to say that she is not a deuced deal too good for
+Maurice Scanlan, who is as vulgar a hound as walks on two legs; but, as
+I said before, Massy, we haven't much choice.”
+
+“Will Lady Dorothea be likely to view the matter in this light?” asked
+Jack, calmly.
+
+“That is a mere matter of chance. She 's equally likely to embrace the
+proposal with ardor, or tell a footman to kick Scanlan out of the house
+for his impertinence; and I own the latter is the more probable of the
+two,--not, mark you, from any exaggerated regard for Mary, but out of
+consideration to the insult offered to herself.”
+
+“Will she not weigh well all the perils that menace the estate?”
+
+“She'll take a short method with them,--she'll not believe them.”
+
+“Egad! I must say the whole negotiation is in a very promising state!”
+ exclaimed Jack, as he arose and walked the room. “There is only one
+amongst us has much head for a case of difficulty.”
+
+“You mean Kate Henderson?” broke in Martin.
+
+“Yes.”
+
+“Well, we 've lost _her_ just when we most needed her.”
+
+“Lost her! How--what do you mean?”
+
+“Why, that she is gone--gone home. She started this morning before
+daybreak. She had a tiff with my mother last night. I will say the girl
+was shamefully treated,--shamefully! My Lady completely forgot herself.
+She was in one of those blessed paroxysms in which, had she been born a
+Pasha, heads would have been rolling about like shot in a dockyard, and
+she consequently said all manner of atrocities; and instead of giving
+her time to make the _amende_, Kate beat a retreat at once, and by this
+time she is some twenty miles on her journey.”
+
+Massingbred walked to the window to hide the emotion these tidings
+produced; for, with all his self-command, the suddenness of the
+intelligence had unmanned him, and a cold and sickly feeling came over
+him. There was far more of outraged and insulted pride than love in the
+emotions which then moved him. The bitter thought of the moment was,
+how indifferent she felt about _him_,--how little _he_ weighed in
+any resolve she determined to follow. She had gone without a word of
+farewell,--perhaps without a thought of him. “Be it so,” said he to
+himself; “there has been more than enough of humiliation to me in our
+intercourse. It is time to end it! The whole was a dream, from which the
+awaking was sure to be painful. Better meet it at once, and have done
+with it.” There was that much of passion in this resolve that proved how
+far more it came from wounded pride than calm conviction; and so deeply
+was his mind engrossed with this feeling, that Martin had twice spoken
+to him ere he noticed his question.
+
+“Do you mean, then, to show that letter to my mother?”
+
+“Ay; I have written it with that object Scanlan asked me to be
+his interpreter, and I have kept my pledge.--And did she go
+alone,--unaccompanied?”
+
+“I fancy so; but, in truth, I never asked. The doctors were here, and
+all that fuss and confusion going on, so that I had really little head
+for anything. After all, I suspect she's a girl might be able to take
+care of herself,--should n't you say so?”
+
+Massingbred was silent for a while, and then said: “You 'll have to be
+on the alert about this business of yours, Martin; and if I can be of
+service to you, command me. I mean to start for London immediately.”
+
+“I 'll see my mother at once, then,” said he, taking up Massingbred's
+letter.
+
+“Shall I meet you in about an hour, in the Lichtenthal Avenue?”
+
+“Agreed,” said he; and they parted.
+
+We have no need, nor have we any right, to follow Massingbred as he
+strolled out to walk alone in an alley of the wood. Irresolution is an
+intense suffering to men of action; and such was the present condition
+of his mind. Week after week, month after month, had he lingered on
+in companionship with the Martins, till such had become the intimacy
+between them that they scrupled not to discuss before him the most
+confidential circumstances, and ask his counsel on the most private
+concerns. He fancied that he was “of them;” he grew to think that he
+was, somehow, part and parcel of the family, little suspecting the
+while that Kate Henderson was the link that bound him to them, and that
+without her presence they resolved themselves into three individuals for
+whom he felt wonderfully little of interest or affection. “She is gone,
+and what have I to stay for?” was the question he put to himself; and
+for answer he could only repeat it.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXV. A COMPROMISE
+
+There are many who think that our law of primogeniture is a sad hardener
+of the heart,--estranging the father from the son, widening petty
+misunderstandings to the breadth of grievances, engendering suspicions
+where there should be trustfulness, and opening two roads in life to
+those who should rightfully have trod one path together. If one half of
+this be the price we pay for our “great houses,” the bargain is a bad
+one! But even taking a wide margin for exaggeration,--allowing much
+for the prejudices of those who assail this institution,--there is that
+which revolts against one's better nature, in the ever-present question
+of money, between the father and his heir. The very fact that separate
+rights suggest separate interests is a source of discord; while the
+inevitable law of succession is a stern defiance to that sense of
+protection on one side, and dependence on the other, that should mark
+their relations to each other.
+
+Captain Martin was not devoid of affection for his family. He had, it
+is true, been very little at home, but he did not dislike it, beyond
+the “boredom” of a rather monotonous kind of life. He was naturally of
+a plastic temperament, however, and he lived amongst a set whose
+good pleasure it is to criticise all who belong to them with the very
+frankest of candor. One told how his governor, though rolling in wealth,
+kept him on a most beggarly allowance, illustrating, with many an
+amusing story, traits of avarice that set the table in a roar. Another
+exhibited his as such a reckless spendthrift that the family estate
+would never cover the debts. There was a species of rivalry on seeing
+who should lay most open to public view details and incidents purely
+belonging to a family. It was even a principle of this new school
+to discuss, and suffer others to discuss before them, the class and
+condition of life of their parents in a tone of mockery and derision,
+whenever the occasion might admit it; and the son of the manufacturer
+or the trader listened to allusions to his birth and parentage, and even
+jested upon them himself, in a spirit more flattering to his philosophy
+than to his pride.
+
+Martin had lived amidst all this for years. He had been often
+complimented upon the “jolly good thing he was to have one of these
+days;” he had been bantered out of many a wise and prudent economy, by
+being reminded of that “deuced fine property nobody could keep him out
+of.” “What can it signify to _you_ old fellow, a few hundreds more or
+less. You must have fifteen thousand a year yet. The governor can't live
+forever, I take it.” Others, too, as self-invited guests, speculated on
+all the pleasures of a visit to Cro' Martin; and if at first the young
+man heard such projects with shame and repugnance, he learned at last to
+listen to them with indifference, perhaps with something less!
+
+Was it some self-accusing on this score that now overwhelmed him as he
+sat alone in his room, trying to think, endeavoring to arouse himself to
+action, but so overcome that he sat there only half conscious, and
+but dimly discerning the course of events about him? At such moments
+external objects mingle their influences with our thoughts, and the
+sound of voices, the tread of footsteps, the mere shutting of a door,
+seem to blend themselves with our reveries, and give somewhat of reality
+to our dreamy fancies. A large clock upon the mantelpiece had thus fixed
+his attention, and he watched the minute-hand as though its course was
+meting out the last moments of existence. “Ere it reach that hour,”
+ thought he, fixing his gaze upon the dial, “what a change may have come
+over all my fortunes!” Years--long years--seemed to pass over as he
+waited thus; scenes of childhood, of infancy itself, mingled with the
+gay dissipations of his after-life; school days and nights at mess,
+wild orgies of the play-table and sad wakings on the morrow, all moved
+through his distracted brain, till at length it was only by an effort
+that he could shake off these flitting fancies and remember where he
+was.
+
+He at once bethought him that there was much to be done. He had given
+Massingbred's letter to his mother, entreating a prompt answer, but
+two hours had now elapsed and she had not sent her reply. There was a
+struggle between his better nature and his selfishness whether to seek
+her. The thought of that sick-room, dark and silent, appalled him. “Is
+it at such a time I dare ask her to address her mind to this? and yet
+hours are now stealing over which may decide my whole fate in life.”
+ While he thus hesitated, Lady Dorothea entered the room. Nights of
+anxiety and watching, the workings of a spirit that fought inch by
+inch with fortune, were deeply marked upon her features. Weariness
+and fatigue had not brought depression on her, but rather imparted a
+feverish lustre to her eyes, and an expression of haughty energy to her
+face.
+
+“Am I to take this for true,” said she, as, seating herself in front
+of him, she held out Massingbred's letter,--“I mean, of course, what
+relates to yourself?”
+
+He nodded sorrowfully, but did not speak.
+
+“All literally the fact?” said she, speaking slowly, and dwelling on
+every word. “You have actually sold the reversion of the estate?”
+
+“And am beggared!” said he, sternly.
+
+Lady Dorothea tried to speak. She coughed, cleared her throat, made
+another effort, but without succeeding; and then, in a slightly broken
+voice, said, “Fetch me a glass of water. No, sit down; I don't want it.”
+ The blood again mounted to her pale cheeks, and she was herself again.
+
+“These are hard terms of Scanlan's,” said she, in a dry, stern tone. “He
+has waited, too, till we have little choice remaining. Your father is
+worse.”
+
+“Worse than when I saw him this morning?”
+
+“Weaker, and less able to bear treatment. He is irritable, too, at that
+girl's absence. He asks for her constantly, and confuses her in his mind
+with Mary.”
+
+“And what does Schubart think?”
+
+“I'll tell you what he _says_,” replied she, with a marked emphasis on
+the last word. “He says the case is hopeless; he has seen such linger
+for weeks, but even a day--a day--” She tried to go on; but her voice
+faltered, her lip trembled, and she was silent.
+
+“I had begun to believe it so,” muttered Martin, gloomily. “He scarcely
+recognized me yesterday.”
+
+“He is perfectly collected and sensible now,” said Lady Dorothea, in her
+former calm tone. “He spoke of business matters clearly and well, and
+wished to see Scanlan.”
+
+“Which I trust you did not permit?” asked Martin, hurriedly.
+
+“I told him he should see him this evening, but there is no necessity
+for it. Scanlan may have left this before evening.”
+
+“You suspect that Scanlan would say something,--would mention to him
+something of this affair?”
+
+“Discretion is not the quality of the low-born and the vulgar,”
+ said she, haughtily; “self-importance alone would render him unsafe.
+Besides,”--and this she said rapidly,--“there is nothing to detain the
+man here, when he knows that we accept his conditions.”
+
+“And are we to accept them?” said Martin, anxiously.
+
+“Dare we refuse them? What is the alternative? I suppose what you have
+done with your Jew friend has been executed legally--formally?”
+
+“Trust _him_ for that; he has left no flaw there!” said Martin,
+bitterly.
+
+“I was certain of it,” said she, with a scarcely perceptible sneer.
+“Everything, therefore, has been effected according to law?”
+
+“Yes, I believe so,” replied he, doggedly.
+
+“Then really there is nothing left to us but Scanlan. He objects to
+Repton; so do I. I always deemed him obtrusive and familiar. In the
+management of an Irish estate such qualities may be reckoned essential.
+I know what we should think of them in England, and I know where we
+should place their possessor.”
+
+“I believe the main question that presses now is, are we to have an
+estate at all?” said the Captain, bitterly.
+
+“Yes, sir, you have really brought it to that,” rejoined she, with equal
+asperity.
+
+“Do you consent to his having the agency?” asked Martin, with an immense
+effort to suppress passion.
+
+“Yes.”
+
+“And you agree, also, to his proposal for Mary?”
+
+“It is matter of complete indifference to me who Miss Martin marries, if
+she only continue to reside where she does at present. I 'm certain she
+'d not consult _me_ on the subject; I'm sure I'd never control _her_. It
+is a _mésalliance_, to be sure; but it would be equally so, if she,
+with her rustic habits and uneducated mind, were to marry what would be
+called her equal. In the present case, she 'll be a little better than
+her station; in the other, she 'd be vastly beneath it!”
+
+“Poor Molly!” said he, half aloud; and, for the first time, there was a
+touch of his father's tone and manner in the words.
+
+Lady Dorothea looked at him, and with a slight shrug of the shoulders
+seemed to sneer at his low-priced compassion.
+
+“Scoff away!” said he, sternly; “but if I thought that any consent we
+gave to this scheme could take the shape of a coercion, I 'd send the
+estate to the--”
+
+“You have, sir; you have done all that already,” broke in Lady Dorothea.
+“When the troubled breathing that we hear from yonder room ceases, there
+is no longer a Martin of Cro' Martin!”
+
+“Then what are we losing time for?” cried he, eagerly. “Are moments
+so precious to be spent in attack and recrimination? There's Scanlan
+sitting on a bench before the door. Call him up--tell him you accept
+his terms--let him start for London, post haste. With every speed he can
+master he 'll not be a minute too soon. Shall I call him? Shall I beckon
+to him?”
+
+“Send a servant for him,” said Lady Dorothea, calmly, while she folded
+up the letter, and laid it on the table at her side.
+
+Martin rang the bell and gave the order, and then, assuming an air of
+composure he was very far from feeling, sat silently awaiting Scanlan's
+entrance. That gentleman did not long detain them. He had been sitting,
+watch in hand, for above an hour, looking occasionally up at the
+windows, and wondering why he had not been summoned. It was, then, with
+an almost abrupt haste that he at last presented himself.
+
+“Read over that letter, sir,” said Lady Dorothea, “and please to inform
+me if it rightly conveys your propositions.”
+
+Scanlan perused Massingbred's letter carefully, and folding it up,
+returned it. “Yes, my Lady,” said he, “I think it embraces the chief
+points. Of course there is nothing specified as to the mode of carrying
+them out,--I mean, as to the security I should naturally look for. I
+believe your Ladyship does not comprehend me?”
+
+“Not in the least, sir.”
+
+“Well, if I must speak plainer, I want to be sure that your concurrence
+is no mere barren concession, my Lady; that, in admitting my
+pretensions, your Ladyship favors them. This is, of course,” said he, in
+a tone of deference, “if your Ladyship condescends to accept the terms
+at all; for, as yet, you have not said so.”
+
+“If I had not been so minded, sir, this interview would not have taken
+place.”
+
+“Well, indeed, I thought as much myself,” said he; “and so I at once
+entered upon what one might call the working details of the measure.”
+
+“How long will it take you to reach London, sir?” asked she, coldly.
+
+“Four days, my Lady, travelling night and day.”
+
+“How soon after your arrival there can you make such arrangements as
+will put this affair out of all danger, using every endeavor in your
+power?”
+
+“I hope I could answer for that within a week,--maybe, less.”
+
+“You'll have to effect it in half that time, sir,” said she, solemnly.
+
+“Well, I don't despair of that same, if I have only your Ladyship's
+promise to all that is set down there. I 'll neither eat nor sleep till
+the matter is in good train.”
+
+“I repeat, sir, that if this settlement be not accomplished in less than
+a week from the present moment, it may prove utterly valueless.”
+
+“I can only say I'll do my best, my Lady. I'd be on the road this
+minute, if your Ladyship would dismiss me.”
+
+“Very well, sir,--you are free. I pledge myself to the full conditions
+of this letter. Captain Martin binds himself equally to observe them.”
+
+“I 'd like it in writing under your Ladyship's hand,” said Scanlan, in
+a half whisper, as though afraid to speak such doubts aloud. “It is
+not that I have the least suspicion or misgiving in life about your
+Ladyship's word,--I'd take it for a million of money,--but when I come
+to make my proposals in person to Miss Mary--”
+
+“There, sir, that will do!” said she, with a disdainful look, as if to
+repress an explanation so disagreeable. “You need not enter further upon
+the question. If you address me by letter, I will reply to it.”
+
+“There it is, my Lady,” said he, producing a sealed epistle, and placing
+it on the table before her. “I had it ready, just not to be losing time.
+My London address is inside; and if you'll write to me by to-morrow's
+post,--or the day after,” added he, remarking a movement of impatience
+in her face--“You shall have your bond, sir,--you shall have your bond,”
+ broke she in, haughtily.
+
+“That ought to be enough, I think,” said the Captain, with a degree of
+irritation that bespoke a long internal conflict.
+
+“I want nothing beyond what I shall earn, Captain Martin,” said Scanlan,
+as a flash of angry meaning covered his features.
+
+“And we have agreed to the terms, Mr. Scanlan,” said her Ladyship, with
+a great effort to conciliate. “It only remains for us to say, a good
+journey, and every success attend you.”
+
+“Thank you, my Lady; I'm your most obedient. Captain, I wish you
+good-bye, and hope soon to send you happy tidings. I trust, if Mr.
+Martin asks after me, that you 'll give him my respectful duty; and
+if--”
+
+“We'll forget nothing, sir,” said Lady Dorothea, rising; and Scanlan,
+after a moment's hesitation as to whether he should venture to offer
+his hand,--a measure for which, happily, he could not muster the
+courage,--bowed himself out of the room, and closed the door.
+
+“Not a very cordial leave-taking for one that's to be her nephew,”
+ muttered he, with a bitter laugh, as he descended the stairs. “And,
+indeed, my first cousin, the Captain, is n't the model of family
+affection. Never mind, Maurice, your day is coming!” And with this
+assuring reflection he issued forth to give orders for his journey.
+
+A weary sigh--the outpouring of an oppressed and jaded spirit--broke
+from Lady Dorothea as the door closed after him. “Insufferable
+creature!” muttered she to herself? and then, turning to the Captain,
+said aloud, “Is that man capable of playing us false?--or, rather, has
+he the power of doing so?”
+
+“It is just what I have been turning over in my own mind,” replied he.
+“I don't quite trust him; and, in fact, I'd follow him over to London,
+if I were free at this moment.”
+
+“Perhaps you ought to do so; it might be the wisest course,” said she,
+hesitatingly.
+
+“Do you think I could leave this with safety?” asked he. But she did
+not seem to have heard the question. He repeated it, and she was still
+silent. “If the doctors could be relied on, they should be able to tell
+us.”
+
+“To tell us what?” asked she, abruptly, almost sternly.
+
+“I meant that they'd know--that they'd perhaps be in a position to
+judge--that they at least could warn us--” Here he stopped, confused and
+embarrassed, and quite unable to continue. That sense of embarrassment,
+however, came less of his own reflections than of the cold, steady, and
+searching look which his mother never ceased to bend on him. It was a
+gaze that seemed to imply, “Say on, and let me hear how destitute of
+all feeling you will avow yourself.” It was, indeed, the meaning of her
+stare, and so he felt it, as the color came and went in his cheek, and a
+sense of faintish sickness crept over him.
+
+“The post has arrived, my Lady, and I have left your Ladyship's letters
+on the dressing-table,” said a servant. And Lady Dorothea, who had been
+impatiently awaiting the mall, hastened at once to her room.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXVI. A LETTER THAT NEVER REACHES ITS ADDRESS
+
+It was not without a very painful emotion that Lady Dorothea turned
+over a mass of letters addressed to her husband. They came from various
+quarters, written in all the moods of many minds. Some were the mere
+gossip of clubs and dinnerparties,--some were kindly and affectionate
+inquiries, gentle reproachings on his silence, and banterings about his
+pretended low spirits. A somewhat favorite tone is that same raillery
+towards those whose lot in life seems elevated above the casualties of
+fortune, forgetting the while that the sunniest path has its shadows,
+and they whom we deem exempt from the sore trials of the world have
+their share of its sorrows. These read strangely now, as he to whom they
+were addressed lay breathing the heavy and labored breath, and muttering
+the low broken murmurs that prelude the one still deeper sleep!
+
+With a tremulous hand, and a gesture of fretful impatience, she threw
+them from her one after the other. The topics and the tone alike jarred
+upon her nerves. They seemed so unfeeling, too, and so heartless at such
+a moment. Oh, if we wanted to moralize over the uncertainty of life,
+what a theme might we have in the simple fact that, quicker than the
+lines we are writing fall from our pen, are oftentimes changing the
+whole fate and fortune of him for whom we destine them! We are telling
+of hope where despair has already entered,--we are speaking joy to a
+house of mourning! But one letter alone remained unopened. It was in
+Repton's hand, and she broke the seal, wondering how he, who of all men
+hated writing, should have turned a correspondent.
+
+The “strictly confidential” of the cover was repeated within; but the
+hour had come when she could violate the caution, and she read on. The
+first few lines were a half-jesting allusion to Martin's croakings about
+his health; but even these had a forced, constrained air, and none of
+the jocular ease of the old man's manner. “And yet,” continued he, “it
+is exactly about your health I am most anxious. I want you to be strong
+and stout, body and mind, ready for action, and resolute. I know the
+tone and style that an absentee loves and even requires to be addressed
+in. He wants to be told that, however he may be personally regretted,
+matters go on wonderfully well in his absence, that rent is paid, farms
+improved, good markets abound, and the county a pattern of quietness. I
+could tell you all this, Martin, and not a syllable of it be true. The
+rents are not paid, partly from a season of great pressure, but, more
+still, from an expectancy on the side of the people that something--they
+know not what--is coming. The Relief Bill only relieved those who wanted
+to job in politics and make market of their opinions; the masses it has
+scarcely touched. They are told they are emancipated, but I am at a loss
+to know in what way they realize to their minds the new privilege. Their
+leaders have seen this. Shrewd fellows as they are, they have guessed
+what disappointment must inevitably ensue when the long-promised boon
+can show nothing as its results but certain noisy mob-orators made
+Parliament men; and so they have slyly hinted,--as yet it is only a
+hint,--'this is but the first step--an instalment they call it--of a
+large debt, every fraction of which must yet be paid!'
+
+“Now there is not in all Europe a more cunning or a deeper fellow than
+Paddy. He has an Italian's subtlety and a Celt's suspicion; but enlist
+his self-love, his vanity, and his acquisitiveness in any scheme, and
+all his shrewdness deserts him. The old hackney coach-horses never
+followed the hay on the end of the pole more hopefully than will he
+travel after some promised future of 'fine times,' with plenty to eat
+and drink, and nothing to do for it! They have booked themselves now for
+this journey, and the delusion must run its course. Meanwhile rents will
+not be paid, farms not improved, bad prices and poverty will abound, and
+the usual crop of discontent and its consequent crime. I 'm not going
+to inflict you with my own opinions on this theme. You know well enough
+already that I never regarded these 'Agrarian disturbances,' as they are
+called, in the light of passing infractions of the peace, but traced in
+them the continuous working of a long preconcerted plan,--the scheme of
+very different heads from those who worked it,--by which the law should
+ever be assailed and the right of property everlastingly put in dispute.
+In plain words, the system was a standing protest against the sway of
+the Saxons in Ireland! 'The agitators' understood thoroughly how to
+profit by this, and they worked these alternate moods of outrage and
+peace pretty much as the priests of old guided their auguries. They
+brought the game to that perfection that a murder could shake a
+ministry, or a blank calendar become the triumph of an Administration!
+
+“Such is, at the moment I am writing, the actual condition of Ireland!
+Come home, then, at once,--but come alone. Come back resolved to see and
+act for yourself. There is a lingering spark of the old feudalism
+yet left in the people. Try and kindle it up once more into the old
+healthful glow of love to the landlord. Some would say it is too late
+for all this; but I will not think so. Magennis has given us an open
+defiance; we are to be put on our title. Now, you are well aware there
+is a complication here, and I shall want to consult you personally;
+besides, we must have a search through those registries that are locked
+up in the strong-room. Mary tells me you carried away the key of it.
+I tell you frankly, I wish we could hit upon some means of
+stopping Magennis. The suit is a small war, that demands grand
+preparation,--always a considerable evil! The fellow, I am told, is also
+concocting another attack,--an action against your niece and others for
+the forcible abduction of his wife. It would read fabulously enough,
+such a charge, but as old Casey said, 'There never yet was anything you
+could n't impute at law, if you only employed the word “conspiracy;”'
+and I believe it! The woman certainly has deserted him, and her
+whereabouts cannot be ascertained. The scandal of such a cause would of
+course be very great; but if you were here we might chance upon some
+mode of averting it,--at all events, your niece shouldn't be deserted at
+such a moment. What a noble girl it is, Martin, and how gloriously she
+comprehends her station! Give me a dozen like her, and I 'll bid
+defiance to all the machinations of all the agitators; and they know it!
+
+“If your estate has resisted longer than those of your neighbors the
+demoralizing influences that are now at work here, you owe it to Mary.
+If crime has not left its track of blood along your avenue or on your
+door-sill, it is she who has saved you. If the midnight hour has not
+been scared by the flame of your burning house or haggard, thank _her_
+for it,--ay, Martin, _her_ courage, _her_ devotion, _her_ watchful
+charity, _her_ unceasing benevolence, the glorious guarantee her daily
+life gives, that _she_, at least, is with the people in all their
+sufferings and their trials! You or I had abandoned with impatience the
+cause that she had succored against every disappointment. Her woman's
+nature has endowed her with a higher and a nobler energy than ever a man
+possessed. She _will not_ be defeated.
+
+“Henderson may bewail, and Maurice Scanlan deride, the shortcomings of
+the people. But through evil and good report she is there to hear from
+their own lips, to see with her own eyes, the story of their sorrows. Is
+this nothing? Is there no lesson in the fact that she, nurtured in
+every luxury, braves the wildest day of winter in her mission of
+charity?--that the most squalid misery, the most pestilent disease never
+deterred her? I saw her a few days back coming home at daybreak; she
+had passed the night in a hovel where neither you nor I would have taken
+shelter in a storm. The hectic flush of fatigue and anxiety was on her
+cheek; her eyes, deep sunk, showed weariness; and her very voice, as
+she spoke to me, was tremulous and weak; and of what, think you, was her
+mind full? Of the noble calm, the glorious, patient endurance of
+those she had just quitted. 'What lessons might we not learn,' said
+she, 'beneath the wet thatch of poverty! There are three struck down with
+fever in that cabin; she who remains to nurse them is a little girl of
+scarcely thirteen. There is all that can render sickness wretched around
+them. They are in pain and in want; cold winds and rain sweep across
+their beds, if we could call them such. If they cherish the love of
+life, it must be through some instinct above all reason; and there they
+lie, uncomplaining. The little remnant of their strength exhausts itself
+in a look of thankfulness,--a faint effort to say their gratitude. Oh,
+if querulous hypochondriacism could but see them, what teaching it might
+learn! Sufferings that call forth from us not alone peevishness and
+impatience, but actually traits of rude and ungenerous meaning, develop
+in them an almost refined courtesy, and a trustfulness that supplies all
+that is most choice in words of gratitude.'
+
+“And this is the girl whose life every day, every hour is
+imperilling,--who encounters all the hazards of our treacherous climate,
+and all the more fatal dangers of a season of pestilence, without
+friends, without a home! Now, Martin, apart from all higher and better
+considerations on the subject, this was not your compact,--such was not
+the text of your bargain with poor Barry. The pledge you gave him at
+your last parting was that she should be your daughter. That you made
+her feel all the affection of one, none can tell more surely than
+myself. That your own heart responds to her love I am as fully convinced
+of. But this is not enough, my dear Martin. She has rights--actual
+rights--that no special pleading on the score of intentions or good
+wishes can satisfy. I should but unworthily discharge my office, as your
+oldest friend in the world, if I did not place this before you broadly
+and plainly. The country is dull and wearisome, devoid of society, and
+without resources, and you leave it; but you leave behind you, to endure
+all its monotony, all its weariness, one who possesses every charm and
+every attention that are valued in the great world! There is fever and
+plague abroad, insurrection threatens, and midnight disturbances are
+rife, and she who is to confront these perils is a girl of twenty. The
+spirit of an invading party threatens to break down all the prestige of
+old family name and property,--a cunningly devised scheme menaces the
+existence of an influence that has endured for centuries; and to oppose
+its working, or fall victim to its onslaught, you leave a young lady,
+whose very impulses of generous meaning may be made snares to entrap
+her. In a word, you neglect duty, desert danger, shun the path of
+honorable exertion, and retreat before the menace of an encounter, to
+place, where you should stand yourself, the frail figure and gentle
+nature of one who was a child, as it were, but yesterday. Neither
+your health nor your happiness can be purchased at such a price,--your
+conscience is too sound for that,--nor can your ease! No, Martin, your
+thoughts will stray over here, and linger amongst these lonely glens
+that she is treading. Your fancy will follow her through the dark nights
+of winter, as alone she goes forth on her mission of mercy. You will
+think of her, stooping to teach the young--bending over the sick-bed of
+age. And then, tracing her footsteps homeward, you will see her sit down
+by a solitary hearth,--none of her own around her,--not one to advise,
+to counsel, to encourage her! I will say no more on this theme; your own
+true heart has already anticipated all that _I_ could _speak_,--all that
+_you_ should _do_.
+
+“Now for one more question, and I shall have finished the most painful
+letter I ever wrote in my life. There are rumors--I cannot trace them,
+nor fully understand them, but they imply that Captain Martin has been
+raising very considerable sums by reversionary bonds and post-obits.
+Without being able to give even a guess, as to the truth of this, I
+draw your attention to the bare possibility, as of a case full of very
+serious complications. Speak to your son at once on the subject, and
+learn the truth,--the whole truth. My own fears upon the matter have
+been considerably strengthened by hearing of a person who has been
+for several weeks back making inquiries on the estate. He has resided
+usually at Kilkieran, and spends his time traversing the property in all
+directions, investigating questions of rent, wages, and tenure of land.
+They tell marvellous stories of his charity and so forth,--blinds,
+doubtless, to cover his own immediate objects. Mary, however, I ought to
+say, takes a very different view of his character, and is so anxious to
+know him personally that I promised her to visit him, and bring him to
+visit her at the cottage. And, by the way, Martin, why should she be
+at the cottage,--why not at Cro' Martin? What miserable economy has
+dictated a change that must reflect upon her influence, not to speak of
+what is justly due to her own station? I could swear that you never
+gave a willing consent to this arrangement. No, no, Martin, the plan was
+never yours.
+
+“I 'm not going to bore you with borough politics. To tell truth, I
+can't comprehend them. They want to get rid of Massingbred, but they
+don't see who is to succeed him. Young Nelligan ought to be the man, but
+he will not. He despises his party,--or at least what would call
+itself his party,--and is resolved never to concern himself with public
+affairs. Meanwhile he is carrying all before him at the Bar, and is as
+sure of the Bench as though he were on it.
+
+“When he heard of Magennis's intention of bringing this action against
+Mary, he came up to town to ask me to engage him on our side, 'since,'
+said he, 'if they send me a brief I cannot refuse it, and if I accept
+it, I promise you it shall be my last cause, for I have resolved to
+abandon the Bar the day after.' This, of course, was in strictest
+secrecy, and so you must regard it. He is a cold, calm fellow, and yet
+on this occasion he seemed full of impulsive action.
+
+“I had something to tell you about Henderson, but I actually forget what
+it was. I can only remember it was disagreeable; and as this epistle has
+its due share of bitters, my want of memory is perhaps a benefit; and so
+to release you at once, I 'll write myself, as I have never ceased to be
+for forty years,
+
+“Your attached friend,
+
+“Val. Repton.”
+
+
+“I believe I was wrong about Henderson; at least the disagreeable went
+no further than that he is supposed to be the channel through which Lady
+Dorothea occasionally issues directions, not always in agreement with
+Mary's notions. And as your niece never liked the man, the measures are
+not more palatable when they come through his intervention.”
+
+Lady Dorothea was still pondering over this letter, in which there were
+so many things to consider, when a hurried message called her to the
+sick-room. As she approached the room, she could hear Martin's voice
+calling imperiously and angrily to the servants, and ordering them
+to dress him. The difficulty of utterance seemed to increase his
+irritation, and gave to his words a harsh, discordant tone, very unlike
+his natural voice.
+
+“So,” cried he, as she entered, “you have come at last. I am nigh
+exhausted with telling them what I want. I must get up, Dora. They must
+help me to dress.”
+
+As he was thus speaking, the servants, at a gesture from her Ladyship,
+quietly stole from the chamber, leaving her alone at his bedside.
+
+“You are too weak for this exertion, Godfrey,” said she, calmly. “Any
+effort like this is certain to injure you.”
+
+“You think so?” asked he, with the tone of deference that he generally
+used towards her. “Perhaps you are right, Dora; but how can it be
+helped?--there is so much to do, such a long way to travel. What a
+strange confusion is over me! Do you know, Dolly,”--here his voice fell
+to a mere whisper,--“you'll scarcely credit it; but all the time I have
+been fancying myself at Cro' Martin, and here we are in--in--what do you
+call the place?”
+
+“Baden.”
+
+“Yes--yes--but the country?”
+
+“Germany.”
+
+“Ay, to be sure, Germany; hundreds of miles away from home!” Here
+he raised himself on one arm, and cast a look of searching eagerness
+through the room. “Is he gone?” whispered he, timidly.
+
+“Of whom are you speaking?” said she.
+
+“Hush, Dolly, hush!” whispered he, still lower. “I promised I 'd not
+tell any one, even you, of his being here. But I must speak of it--I
+must--or my brain will turn. He was here--he sat in that very chair--he
+held my hand within both his own. Poor, poor fellow! how his eyes filled
+when he saw me! He little knew how changed he himself was!--his hair
+white as snow, and his eyes so dimmed!”
+
+“This was a dream, Godfrey,--only a dream!”
+
+“I thought you 'd say so,--I knew it,” said he, sorrowfully; “but _I_
+know better. The dear old voice rang in my heart as I used to hear it
+when a child, as he said, 'Do you remember me?' To be sure I remembered
+him, and told him to go and fetch Molly; and his brow darkened when
+I said this, and he drew back his hand and said, 'You have deserted
+her,--she is not here!'”
+
+“All this is mere fancy, Godfrey; you have been dreaming of home.”
+
+“Ay,” muttered he, gloomily, “it was but too true; we did desert her,
+and that was not our bargain, Dolly. It was all the poor fellow asked
+at our hands,--his last, his only condition. What's that letter you have
+there?” cried he, impatiently, as Lady Dorothea, in the agitation of the
+moment, continued to crumple Repton's letter between her fingers.
+
+“A letter I have been reading,” said she, sternly.
+
+“From whom--from whom?” asked he, still more eagerly.
+
+“A letter from Mr. Repton. You shall read it when you are better. You
+are too weak for all this exertion, God-frey; you must submit--”
+
+“Submit!” broke he in; “the very word he said. You submit yourself to
+anything, if it only purchase your selfish ease. No, Dolly, no, I am
+wrong. It was I that said so. I owned to him how unworthily I had acted.
+Give me that letter, madam. Let me see it,” said he, imperiously.
+
+“When you are more tranquil, Godfrey,--in a fitting state.”
+
+“I tell you, madam,” cried he, fiercely, “this, is no time for trifling
+or deception. Repton knows all our affairs. If he has written now, it is
+because matters are imminent. My head is clear now. I can think--I can
+speak. It is full time Harry should hear the truth. Let him come here.”
+
+“Take a little rest, Godfrey, be it only half an hour, and you shall
+have everything as you wish it.”
+
+“Half an hour! you speak of half an hour to one whose years are minutes
+now!” said he, in a broken voice. “This poor brain, Dora, is already
+wandering. The strange things I have seen so lately--that poor fellow
+come back after so many years--so changed, so sadly changed--but I knew
+him through all the mist and vapor of this feverish state; I saw him
+clearly, my own dear Barry!” The word, as it were the last barrier to
+his emotion, brought forth a gush of tears; and burying his face within
+the bedclothes, he sobbed himself to sleep. As he slept, however, he
+continued to mutter about home and long passed years,--of boyish sports
+with his brother; childish joys and sorrows were all mingled there, with
+now and then some gloomier reveries of later days.
+
+“He has been wandering in his mind!” whispered Lady Dorothea to her son,
+as he joined her in the darkened room. “He woke up, believing that he
+had seen his brother, and the effect was very painful.”
+
+“Has he asked for _me?_” inquired the other.
+
+“No; he rambled on about Mary, and having deserted her, and all that;
+and just as ill-luck would have it, here is a letter from Repton,
+exactly filled with the very same theme. He insists on seeing it; but of
+course he will have forgotten it when he awakes.”
+
+“You have written to Scanlan?” asked he.
+
+“Yes; my letter has been sent off.”
+
+“Minutes are precious now. If anything should occur here,”--his eyes
+turned towards the sick-bed as he spoke,--“Merl will refuse to treat.
+His people--I know they are his--are hovering about the hotel all the
+morning. I heard the waiter whispering as I passed, and caught the
+words, 'No better; worse, if anything.' The tidings would be in London
+before the post.”
+
+Lady Dorothea made no reply, and all was now silent, save the unequal
+but heavy breathings of the sick man, and the faint, low mutterings of
+his dream. “In the arras--between the window and the wall--there it is,
+Barry,” cried he, in a clear, distinct voice. “Repton has a copy of it,
+too, with Catty's signature,--old Catty Broon.”
+
+“What is he dreaming of?” asked the young man.
+
+But, instead of replying to the question, Lady Dorothea bent down her
+head to catch the now muttered words of the sleeper.
+
+“He says something of a key. What key does he mean?” asked he.
+
+[Illustration: 297]
+
+“Fetch me that writing-desk,” said Lady Dorothea, as she took several
+keys from her pockets; and noiselessly unlocking the box, she began to
+search amidst its contents. As she continued, her gestures grew more and
+more hurried; she threw papers recklessly here and there, and at last
+emptied the entire contents upon the table before her. “See, search if
+there be a key here,” cried she, in a broken voice; “I saw it here three
+days ago.”
+
+“There is none here,” said he, wondering at her eagerness.
+
+“Look carefully,--look well for it,” said she, her voice trembling at
+every word.
+
+“Is it of such consequence--”
+
+“It is of such consequence,” broke she in, “that he into whose hands it
+falls can leave you and me beggars on the world!” An effort at awaking
+by the sick man here made her hastily restore the papers to the desk,
+which she locked, and replaced upon the table.
+
+“Was it the Henderson did this?” said she aloud, as if asking the
+question of herself. “Could she have known this secret?”
+
+“Did what? What secret?” asked he, anxiously.
+
+A low, long sigh announced that the sick man was awaking; and in a
+faint voice he said, “I feel better, Dora. I have had a sleep, and been
+dreaming of home and long ago. To-morrow, or next day, perhaps, I may be
+strong enough to leave this. I want to be back there again. Nay, don't
+refuse me,” said he, timidly.
+
+“When you are equal to the journey--”
+
+“I have a still longer one before me, Dora, and even less preparation
+for it. Harry, I have something to say to you, if I were strong enough
+to say it,--this evening, perhaps.” Wearied by the efforts he had made,
+he lay back again with a heavy sigh, and was silent.
+
+“Is he worse--is he weaker?” asked his son.
+
+A mournful nod of the head was her reply.
+
+Young Martin arose and stole noiselessly from the room, he scarcely knew
+whither; he indeed cared not which way he turned. The future threw its
+darkest shadows before him. He had little to hope for, as little to
+love. His servant gave him a letter which Massingbred had left on his
+departure, but he never opened it; and in a listless vacuity he wandered
+out into the wood.
+
+It was evening as he turned homeward. His first glance was towards the
+windows of his father's room. They were wont to be closely shuttered and
+fastened; now one of them lay partly open, and a slight breeze stirred
+the curtain within. A faint, sickly fear of he knew not what crept over
+him. He walked on quicker; but as he drew nigh the door, his servant met
+him. “Well!” cried he, as though expecting a message.
+
+“Yes, sir, it is all over; he went off about an hour since.” The man
+added something; but Martin heard no more, but hurried to his room, and
+locked the door.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXVII. A VERY BRIEF INTERVIEW.
+
+When Jack Massingbred found himself once more “in town,” and saw that
+the tide of the mighty world there rolled on the same full, boiling
+flood he had remembered it of yore, he began to wonder where and how
+he had latterly been spending his life. There were questions of
+politics--mighty interests of which every one was talking--of which he
+knew nothing; party changes and new social combinations had arisen of
+which he was utterly ignorant. But what he still more acutely deplored
+was that he himself had, so to say, dropped out of the memory of his
+friends, who accosted him with that half-embarrassed air that says,
+“Have you been ill?--or in India?--or how is it that we have n't met you
+about?” It was last session he had made a flash speech,--an effort that
+his own party extolled to the skies, and even the Opposition could only
+criticise the hardihood and presumption of so very young a member of the
+House,--and now already people had ceased to bear him in mind.
+
+The least egotistical of men--and Massingbred did not enter into this
+category--find it occasionally very hard to bear the cool “go-by” the
+world gives them whenever a chance interval has withdrawn them from
+public view. The stern truth of how little each atom of the social
+scheme affects the working of the whole machinery is far from palatable
+in its personal application. Massingbred was probably sensitive enough
+on this score, but too consummate a tactician to let any one guess his
+feelings; and so he lounged down to the “House,” and lolled at his Club,
+and took his airings in the Park with all the seeming routine of one who
+had never abdicated these enjoyments for a day.
+
+He had promised, and really meant, to have looked after Martin's affairs
+on his reaching London; but it was almost a week after his return that
+he bethought him of his pledge, his attention being then called to
+the subject by finding on his table the visiting-card of Mr. Maurice
+Scanlan. Perhaps he was not sorry to have something to do; perhaps
+he had some compunctions of conscience for his forgetfulness; at all
+events, he sent his servant at once to Scanlan's hotel, with a request
+that he would call upon him as early as might be. An answer was speedily
+returned that Mr. Scanlan was about to start for Ireland that same
+afternoon, but would wait upon him immediately. The message was scarcely
+delivered when Scanlan himself appeared.
+
+Dressed in deep mourning, but with an easy complacency of manner that
+indicated very little of real grief, he threw himself into a chair,
+saying, “I pledge you my word of honor, it is only to yourself I 'd
+have come this morning, Mr. Massingbred, for I 'm actually killed with
+business. No man would believe the letters I've had to read and
+answer, the documents to examine, the deeds to compare, the papers to
+investigate--”
+
+“Is the business settled, then--or in train of settlement?” broke in
+Jack.
+
+“I suppose it _is_ settled,” replied Scanlan, with a slight laugh. “Of
+course you know Mr. Martin is dead?”
+
+“Dead! Good heavens! When did this occur?”
+
+“We got the news--that is, Merl did--the day before yesterday. A friend
+of his who had remained at Baden to watch events started the moment he
+breathed his last, and reached town thirty hours before the mail; not,
+indeed, that the Captain has yet written a line on the subject to any
+one.”
+
+“And what of the arrangement? Had you come to terms previously with
+Merl?”
+
+“No; he kept negotiating and fencing with us from day to day, now
+asking for this, now insisting on that, till the evening of his friend's
+arrival, when, by special appointment, I had called to confer with him.
+Then, indeed, he showed no disposition for further delay, but frankly
+told me the news, and said, 'The Conferences are over, Scanlan. I 'm the
+Lord of Cro' Martin.'”
+
+“And is this actually the case,--has he really established his claim in
+such a manner as will stand the test of law and the courts?”
+
+“He owns every acre of it; there's not a flaw in his title; he has
+managed to make all Martin's debts assume the shape of advances in hard
+cash. There is no trace of play transactions throughout the whole. I
+must be off, Mr. Massing-bred; there 's the chaise now at the door.”
+
+“Wait one moment, I entreat of you. Can nothing be done? Is it too late
+to attempt any compromise?”
+
+“To be sure it is. He has sent off instructions already to serve the
+notice for ejectment. I 've got orders myself to warn the tenants not to
+pay the last half-year, except into court.”
+
+“Why, are _you_ in Mr. Merl's service, then?” asked Jack, with one of
+his quiet laughs.
+
+“I am, and I am not,” said Scanlan, reddening. “You know the compact I
+made with Lady Dorothea at Baden. Well, of course there is no longer
+any question about that. Still, if Miss Mary agrees to accept me, I 'll
+stand by the old family! There 's no end of trouble and annoyance we
+could n't give Merl before he got possession. I know the estate well,
+and where the worst fellows on it are to be found! It's one thing to
+have the parchments of a property, and it is another to be able to
+go live on it, and draw the rents. But I can't stay another minute.
+Good-bye, air. Any chance of seeing you in the West soon?”
+
+“I 'm not sure I 'll not go over to-morrow,” said Jack, musing.
+
+“I suppose you are going to blarney the constituency?” said Maurice,
+laughing heartily at his coarse conceit. Then suddenly seeing that
+Massingbred did not seem to relish the freedom, he hurriedly repeated
+his leave-takings, and departed.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXVIII. THE DARK SIDE OF A CHARACTER.
+
+“Ye might ken the style of these epistles by this time, Dinah,” said Mr.
+Henderson, as he walked leisurely up and down a long low-ceilinged room,
+and addressed himself to a piece of very faded gentility, who sat at a
+writing-table. “She wants to hear naething but what she likes, and, as
+near as may be, in her ain words too.”
+
+“I always feel as if I was copying out the same letter every time I
+write,” whined out a weak, sickly voice.
+
+“The safest thing ye could do,” replied he, gravely. “She never tires
+o' reading that everybody on the estate is a fule or a scoundrel, and
+ye canna be far wrang when ye say the worst o' them all. Hae ye told her
+aboot the burnin' at Kyle-a-Noe?”
+
+“Yes, I have said that you have little doubt it was malicious.”
+
+“And hae ye said that there's not a sixpence to be had out of the whole
+townland of Kiltimmon?”
+
+“I have. I have told her that, except Miss Mary herself, nobody would
+venture into the barony.”
+
+“The greater fule yerself, then,” said he, angrily. “Couldna ye see that
+she'll score this as a praise o' the young leddy's courage? Ye maun just
+strike it out, ma'am, and say that the place is in open rebellion--”
+
+“I thought you bade me say that Miss Mary had gone down there and spoken
+to the people--”
+
+“I bade ye say,” broke he angrily in, “that Miss Mary declared no rent
+should be demanded o' them in their present distress; that she threw
+the warrants into the fire, and vowed that if we called a sale o' their
+chattels, she 'd do the same at the castle, and give the people the
+proceeds.”
+
+“You only said that she was in such a passion that she declared she 'd
+be right in doing so.”
+
+“I hae nae time for hair-splitting, ma'am. I suppose if she had a right
+she 'd exercise it! Put down the words as I gie them to ye! Ye hae no
+forgotten the conspeeracy?”
+
+“I gave it exactly as you told me, and I copied out the two paragraphs
+in the papers about it, beginning, 'Great scandal,' and 'If our landed
+gentry expect--'”
+
+“That's right; and ye hae added the private history of Joan? They 'll
+make a fine thing o' that on the trial, showing the chosen associate
+o' a young leddy to hae been naething better than--Ech! what are ye
+blubberin' aboot,--is it yer feelin's agen? Ech! ma'am, ye are too
+sentimental for a plain man like me!”
+
+This rude speech was called up by a smothering effort to conceal
+emotion, which would not be repressed, but burst forth in a violent fit
+of sobbing.
+
+“I know you didn't mean it. I know you were not thinking--”
+
+“If ye canna keep your ain counsel, ye must just pay the cost o' it,”
+ said he, savagely. “Finish the letter there, and let me send it to the
+post. I wanted ye to say a' about the Nelligans comin' up to visit
+Miss Mary, and she goin' ower the grounds wi' them, and sendin' them
+pineapples and grapes, and how that the doctor's girls are a'ways wi'
+her, and that she takes old Catty out to drive along wi' herself in
+the pony phaeton, which is condescendin' in a way her Leddyship will no
+approve o'. There was mony a thing beside I had in my head, but ye hae
+driven them a' clean awa' wi' your feelin's!” And he gave the last word
+with an almost savage severity.
+
+“Bide a wee!” cried he, as she was folding up the letter. “Ye may add
+that Mister Scanlan has taken to shootin' over the preserves we were
+keepin' for the Captain, and if her Leddyship does not wish to banish
+the woodcocks a'the-gither, she 'd better gie an order to stop him.
+Young Nelli-gan had a special permission from Miss Mary hersel' and if
+it was na that he canna hit a haystack at twenty yards, there 'd no be
+a cock pheasant in the demesne! I think I 'm looking at her as she reads
+this,” said he, with a malicious grin. “Ech, sirs, won't her great black
+eyebrows meet on her forehead, and her mouth be drawn in till never a
+bit of a red lip be seen! Is na that a chaise I see comin' up the road?”
+ cried he, suddenly. “Look yonder!”
+
+“I thought I saw something pass,” said she, trying to strain her eyes
+through the tears that now rose to them.
+
+“It's a post-chaise wi' twa trunks on the top. I wonder who's comin' in
+it?” said Henderson, as he opened the sash-door, and stood awaiting the
+arrival. The chaise swept rapidly round the beech copse, and drew up
+before the door; the postilion, dismounting, lowered the steps, and
+assisted a lady to alight. She threw back her veil as she stood on the
+ground, and Kate Henderson, somewhat jaded-looking and pale from her
+journey, was before her father. A slight flush--very slight--rose to
+his face as he beheld her, and without uttering a word he turned and
+re-entered the house.
+
+“Ye are aboot to see a visitor, ma'am,” said he to his wife; and, taking
+his hat, passed out of the room. Meanwhile Kate watched the postboy as
+he untied the luggage and deposited it at her side.
+
+“Did n't I rowl you along well, my Lady?--ten miles in little more than
+an hour,” said he, pointing to his smoking cattle.
+
+“More speed than we needed,” said she, with a melancholy smile, while
+she placed some silver in his hand.
+
+“What's this here, my Lady? It's like one of the owld tenpenny bits,”
+ said he, turning over and over a coin as he spoke.
+
+“It's French money,” said she, “and unfortunately I have got none other
+left me.”
+
+“Sure they'll give you what you want inside,” said he, pointing towards
+the house.
+
+“No, no; take this. It is a crown piece, and they'll surely change it
+for you in the town.” And so saying, she turned towards the door.
+When she made one step towards it, however, she stopped. A painful
+irresolution seemed to possess her; but, recovering it, she turned the
+handle and entered.
+
+“We did not know you were coming; at least, he never told me,” said her
+stepmother, in a weak, broken voice, as she arose from her seat.
+
+“There was no time to apprise you,” said Kate, as she walked towards the
+fire and leaned her arm on the chimney-piece.
+
+“You came away suddenly, then? Had anything unpleasant--was there any
+reason--”
+
+“I had been desirous of leaving for some time back. Lady Dorothea only
+gave her consent on Tuesday last,--I think it was Tuesday; but my head
+is not very clear, for I am somewhat tired.” There was an indescribable
+sadness in the way these simple words were uttered and in the sigh which
+followed them.
+
+“I 'm afraid he 'll not be pleased at it!” said the other, timidly.
+
+Another sigh, but still weaker than the former, was Kate's only reply.
+
+“And how did you leave Mr. Martin? They tell us here that his case is
+hopeless,” said Mrs. Henderson.
+
+“He is very ill, indeed; the doctors give no hope of saving him. Is Miss
+Martin fully aware of his state?”
+
+“Who can tell? We scarcely ever see her. You know that she never was
+very partial to your father, and latterly there has been a greater
+distance than ever between them. They differ about everything; and with
+that independent way he has--”
+
+A wide stare from Kate's full dark eyes, an expression of astonishment,
+mingled with raillery, in her features, here arrested the speaker, who
+blushed deeply in her embarrassment.
+
+“Go on,” said Kate, gently. “Pray continue, and let me hear what it is
+that his independence accomplishes.”
+
+“Oh, dear!” sighed the other. “I see well you are not changed, Kate.
+You have come back with your old haughty spirit, and sure you know well,
+dear, that he 'll not bear it.”
+
+“I 'll not impose any burden on his forbearance. A few days' shelter--a
+week or two at furthest--will not be, perhaps, too much to ask.”
+
+“So, then, you have a situation in view, Kate?” asked she, more eagerly.
+
+“The world is a tolerably wide one, and I 'm sure there is room for me
+somewhere, even without displacing another. But let us talk of anything
+else. How are the Nelligans? and Joe, what is he doing?”
+
+“The old people are just as you left them; but Mr. Joseph is a great
+man now,--dines with the Lord-Lieutenant, and goes into all the grand
+society of Dublin.”
+
+“Is he spoiled by his elevation?”
+
+“Your father thinks him haughtier than he used to be; but many say that
+he is exactly what he always was. Mrs. Nelligan comes up frequently to
+the cottage now, and dines with Miss Martin. I 'm sure I don't know how
+my Lady would like to see her there.”
+
+“She is not very likely,” said Kate, dryly.
+
+“Why not?”
+
+“I mean, that nothing is less probable than Lady Dorothea's return
+here.”
+
+“I suppose not!” half sighed Mrs. Henderson, for hers was one of those
+sorrowful temperaments that extract only the bitter from the cup of
+life. In reality, she had little reason to wish for Lady Dorothea's
+presence, but still she could make a “very good grievance” out of her
+absence, and find it a fitting theme for regret. “What reason do you
+mean to give for your coming home, Kate, if he should ask you?” inquired
+she, after a pause.
+
+“That I felt dissatisfied with my place,” replied Kate, coldly.
+
+“And we were always saying what a piece of good luck it was for you to
+be there! Miss Mary told Mrs. Nelligan--it was only the other day--that
+her uncle could n't live without you,--that you nursed him, and read to
+him, and what not; and as to her Ladyship, that she never took a drive
+in the carriage, or answered a note, without asking your advice first.”
+
+“What a profound impression Miss Martin must have received of my talents
+for intrigue!” said Kate, sneeringly.
+
+“I believe not. I think she said something very kind and good-natured,
+just as if it was only people who had really very great gifts that could
+condescend to make themselves subservient without humiliation. I know
+she said 'without humiliation,' because your father laughed when he
+heard of it, and remarked, 'If it's Kate's humility they like, they are
+assuredly thankful for small mercies!”
+
+“I should like to go over and see Miss Martin. What distance is it from
+this to the cottage?”
+
+“It's full three miles; but it's all through the demesne.”
+
+“I'm a good walker, and I'll go,” said she, rising. “But first, might I
+ask for a little refreshment,--a cup of tea? Oh, I forgot,” added she,
+smiling, “tea is one of the forbidden luxuries here.”
+
+“No; but your father doesn't like to see it in the daytime. If you'd
+take it in your own room--”
+
+“Of course, and be most thankful. Am I to have the little room with the
+green paper, where I used to be, long ago?”
+
+“Well, indeed, I can scarcely tell. The bed was taken down last autumn;
+and as we never thought of your coming home--”
+
+“Home!” sighed Kate, involuntarily.
+
+“But come into my room, and I 'll fetch you a cup of tea directly.”
+
+“No, no; it is better not to risk offending him,” said Kate, calmly. “I
+remember, now, that this was one of his antipathies. Give me anything
+else, for I have not eaten to-day.”
+
+While her stepmother went in search of something to offer her, Kate sat
+down beside the fire, deep in thought. She had removed her bonnet, and
+her long silky hair fell in rich masses over her neck and shoulders,
+giving a more fixed expression to her features, which were of deathlike
+paleness. And so she sat, gazing intently on the fire, as though
+she were reading her very destiny in the red embers before her. Her
+preoccupation of mind was such that she never noticed the opening of
+the door, nor remarked that her father had entered. The noise of a chair
+being moved suddenly startled her. She looked up, and there he stood,
+his hat on his head and his arms closely folded on his breast, at the
+opposite side of the fire.
+
+“Well, lassie,” said he, after a long and steady stare at her, “ye hae
+left your place, or been turned oot o' it,--whilk is the case?”
+
+“I came away of my own accord,” said she, calmly.
+
+“And against my Leddy's wish?”
+
+“No, with her full consent.”
+
+“And how did ye do it? for in her last letter to my sel', she says, 'I
+desire ye, therefore, to bear in mind that any step she takes on this
+head'--meaning about going away--'shall have been adopted in direct
+opposition to my wishes.' What has ye done since that?”
+
+“I have succeeded in convincing her Ladyship that I was right in leaving
+her!” said Kate.
+
+“Was it the force of your poleetical convictions that impelled ye to
+this course?” said he, with a bitter grin, “for they tell me ye are a
+rare champion o' the rights o' the people, and scruple not to denounce
+the upper classes, while ye eat their bread.”
+
+“I denounce no one; nor, so far as I know myself, is ingratitude amongst
+my faults.”
+
+“Maybe, if one were to tak' your ain narrative for it, ye hae nae faults
+worse than mere failings! But this is na telling me why ye left my
+Leddy.”
+
+Kate made no answer, but sat steadily watching the fire.
+
+“Ye wad rayther, mayhap, that I asked hersel' aboot it! Well, be it so.
+And noo comes anither point. Do ye think that if your conduct has in
+any way given displeasure to your mistress, or offended those in whose
+service ye were,--do ye think, I say, that ye hae the right to involve
+_me_ in your shame and disgrace?”
+
+“Do you mean,” said she, calmly, “that I had no right to come here?”
+
+“It 's just exactly what I mean; that if ye canna mak' friends for
+yoursel', ye ought not to turn away those whilk befriend your family.”
+
+“But what was I to have done, then?” said she, gently. “There were
+circumstances that required--imperatively required me--to leave Lady
+Dorothea--”
+
+“Let me hear them,” said he, breaking in, “It would lead me to speak of
+others than myself,--of events which are purely family matters,--were I
+to enter upon this theme. Besides,” said she, rising, “I am not, so far
+as I know, on my trial. There is not anything laid to my charge. I have
+no apologies to render.”
+
+At this moment her stepmother appeared with a tray at the door, and
+seeing Henderson, endeavored to retire unobserved, but his quick eye
+had already detected her, and he cried out, “Come here,--ye canna do
+too much honor to a young leddy who has such a vara profound esteem
+for hersel'! Cake and wine! my faith! No but ye 'll deem it vara vulgar
+fare, after the dainties ye hae been used to! And yet, lassie, these are
+nae the habits here!”
+
+“She has eaten nothing to-day!” meekly observed her stepmother.
+
+“My fayther wad hae askit her hoo much has she earned the day?” said
+Henderson, severely.
+
+“You are quite right, sir,” broke in Kate,--“I have earned nothing. Not
+just yet,” added she, as her stepmother pressed a glass of wine on her
+acceptance; “a little later, perhaps. I have no appetite now.”
+
+“Are ye sae stupid, ma'am, that ye canna see ye are dealin' wi' a fine
+leddy, wha is no obleeged to hae the same mind twa minutes thegither?
+Ye 'll hae to train wee Janet to be a' ready for whate'er caprice is
+uppermost. But mine me, lassie,”--here he turned a look of stern meaning
+towards her,--“ye hae tried for mony a lang day to subdue _me_ to your
+whims and fancies, as they tell me ye hae done wi' sae mony others, and
+ye are just as far fra it noo as the first time ye tried it. Ye canna
+cheat nor cajole _me! I_ know ye!” And with these words, uttered in a
+tone of intense passion, he slowly walked out of the room.
+
+“Had he been angry with you?--had anything occurred before I came in?”
+ asked her stepmother.
+
+“Very little,” sighed Kate, wearily. “He was asking me why I came here,
+I believe. I could scarcely tell him; perhaps I don't very well know,
+myself.”
+
+“He can't get it out of his head,” said the other, in a low, stealthy
+whisper, “that, if you should leave Lady Dorothea, he will be turned
+away out of the stewardship. He is always saying it,--he repeats it even
+in his dreams. But for that, he 'd not have met you so--so--unkindly.”
+
+Kate pressed her hand affectionately, and smiled a thankful
+acknowledgment of this speech. “And the cottage,” said she, rallying
+suddenly, “is about three miles off?”
+
+“Not more. But you could scarcely walk there and back again. Besides, it
+is already growing late, and you have no chance of seeing Miss Mary if
+you 're not there by breakfast-time, since, when she comes home of an
+evening, she admits no one. She reads or studies, I believe, all the
+evening.”
+
+“I think she'd see me,” said Kate; “I should have so much to tell her
+about her friends. I 'm sure she 'd see _me_,--at least, I'll try.”
+
+“But you'll eat something,--you 'll at least drink a glass of wine
+before you set out?”
+
+“I do not like to refuse you,” said Kate, smiling good-naturedly, “but I
+could n't swallow now. I have a choking feeling here in my throat, like
+a heavy cold, that seems as though it would suffocate me. Good-bye, for
+a while. I shall be quite well, once I 'm in the open air. Good-bye!”
+ And, so saying, she wrapped her shawl around her, and motioning a
+farewell with her hand, set out on her errand.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIX. THE COTTAGE.
+
+It was one of those fresh and breezy days where brilliant flashes
+of sunlight alternate with deep shadow, making of every landscape a
+succession of pictures, that Kate Henderson set out on her way to the
+cottage. Her path led through the demesne, but it was as wild as any
+forest scene in Germany, now wending through dark woods, now issuing
+forth over swelling lawns, from which the view extended many a mile
+away,--at one moment displaying the great rugged mountains of Connemara,
+and at another, the broad blue sea, heaving heavily, and thundering in
+sullen roar against the rocks.
+
+The fast-flitting clouds, the breezy grass, the wind-shaken foliage, and
+the white-crested waves, all were emblems of life; there was motion and
+sound and conflict! and yet to her heart, as she walked along, these
+influences imparted no sense of pleasure or relief. For a few seconds,
+perhaps, would she suddenly awake to the consciousness of the fair scene
+before her, and murmur to herself, perchance, the lines of some favorite
+poet; but in another moment her gloomy thoughtfulness was back again,
+and with bent-down head was she again moving onward. At times she
+walked rapidly forward, and then, relaxing her pace, she would stroll
+listlessly along, as though no object engaged her. And so was it in
+reality,--her main desire being to be free, in the open air; to be from
+beneath that roof whose shadow seemed to darken her very heart! Could
+that haughty spirit have humbled itself in sorrow, she might have found
+relief; but her proud nature had no such resource, and in her full heart
+injury and wrong had alone their place.
+
+“And this,” burst she forth at length,--“and this is Home! this the
+dreamland of those far away over the seas,--the cherished spot of all
+affections,--the quiet nook wherein we breathe an atmosphere of love,
+blending our lives with all dearest to us. Is it, then, that all is
+hollow, false, and untrue; or is it that I alone have no part in the
+happiness that is diffused around me? I know not which would be the
+sadder!”
+
+Thus, reasoning sadly, she went along, when suddenly, on the slope of a
+gentle hill in front of her, gracefully encircled with a young wood
+of larch and copper-beech, she caught sight of the cottage. It was a
+tasteful imitation of those seen in the Oberland, and with its wild
+background of lofty mountain, an appropriate ornament to the landscape.
+
+A small stream running over a rocky, broken bed formed the boundary of
+the little grounds, and over this a bridge of a single plank conducted
+the way to the cottage. The whole was simple and unpretending; there
+was none of that smart trimness which gives to such scenes the air of
+an imitation. The lawn, it is true, was neatly shaven, and the
+flower-plots, which broke its uniformity, clean from weeds; but the
+flowers were of the simplest kind,--the crocus and the daffodil had to
+stand no dangerous rivalry, and the hyacinth had nothing to vie with.
+
+Kate loitered for some time here, now gazing at the wild, stern
+landscape, now listening to the brawling rivulet, whose sounds were the
+only ones in the stillness. As she drew nigh the cottage, she found
+the windows of a little drawing-room open. She looked in: all was
+comfortable and neat-looking, but of the strictest simplicity. She next
+turned to the little porch, and pulled the bell; in a few seconds the
+sounds of feet were heard approaching, and a very old woman, whose
+appearance and dress were the perfection of neatness, appeared.
+
+“Don't you know me, Mrs. Broon?” said Kate, gently.
+
+“I do not, then, my Lady,” said she, respectfully, “for my eyes is
+gettin' dimmer every day.”
+
+“I 'm Kate Henderson, Mrs. Broon. Do you forget me?”
+
+“Indeed I do not,” said Catty, gravely. “You were here with the master
+and my Lady?”
+
+“Yes. I went away with them to Germany; but I have come home for a
+while, and wish to pay my respects to Miss Mary.”
+
+“She isn't at home to-day,” was the dry response.
+
+“But she will return soon, I conclude. She'll be back some time in the
+evening, won't she?”
+
+“If she plazes it, she will. There's nobody to control or make her do
+but what she likes herself,” said Catty.
+
+“I ask,” said Kate, “because I'm a little tired. I've come off a long
+journey, and if you'd allow me to rest myself, and wait awhile in the
+hope of seeing Miss Martin, I'd be very thankful.”
+
+“Come in, then,” said Catty; but the faint sigh with which the words
+were uttered, gave but a scant significance of welcome.
+
+Kate followed her into the little drawing-room, and at a sign from the
+old woman, took a seat.
+
+“Miss Mary is quite well, I'm glad to hear,” said Kate, endeavoring to
+introduce some conversation.
+
+“Will they ever come back?” asked the old woman, in a stern, harsh
+voice, while she paid no attention whatever to Kate's remark.
+
+“It is very unlikely,” said Kate. “Your poor master had not long to live
+when I came away. He was sinking rapidly.”
+
+“So I heard,” muttered the other, dryly; “the last letter from Mr.
+Repton said 'he was n't expected.'”
+
+“I fear it will be a great shock to Miss Mary,” said Kate.
+
+The old woman nodded her head slowly several times without speaking.
+
+“And, perhaps, cause great changes here?” continued Kate.
+
+“There's changes enough, and too many already,” muttered Catty. “I
+remember the place upwards of eighty years. I was born in the little
+house to the right of the road as you come up from Kelly's mills. There
+was no mill there then, nor a school-house, no, nor a dispensary either!
+Musha, but the people was better off, and happier, when they had none of
+them.”
+
+Kate smiled at the energy with which these words were uttered,
+surmising, rightfully, that Catty's condemnation of progress had a
+direct application to herself.
+
+“Now it's all readin' and writin', teachin' honest people to be rogues,
+and givin' them new contrivances to cheat their masters. When I knew
+Cro' Martin first,” added she, almost fiercely, “there was n't a Scotch
+steward on the estate; but there was nobody turned out of his houldin',
+and there was n't a cabin unroofed to make the people seek shelter under
+a ditch.”
+
+“The world would then seem growing worse every day,” remarked Kate,
+quietly.
+
+“To be sure it is. Why would n't it? Money is in every one's heart.
+Nobody cares for his own flesh and blood. 'T is all money! What will I
+get if I take that farm over another man's head, or marry that girl that
+likes somebody better than me? 'Tis to be rich they're all strivin',
+and the devil never made people his own children so completely as by
+teachin' them to love goold!”
+
+“Your young mistress has but little of this spirit in her heart?” said
+Kate.
+
+“Signs on it! look at the life she leads: up before daybreak, and away
+many times before I 'm awake. She makes a cup of coffee herself, and
+saddles the pony, too, if Patsey is n't there to do it; and she 's off
+to Glentocher, or Knock-mullen, twelve, fourteen miles down the coast,
+with barley for one, and a bottle of wine for the other. Sometimes she
+has a basket with her, just a load to carry, with tay and shugar; ay,
+and--for she forgets nothing--toys for the children, too, and clothes,
+and even books. And then to see herself, she 's not as well dressed
+as her own maid used to be. There 's not a night she does n't sit up
+patchin' and piecin' her clothes. 'T is Billy at the cross-roads made
+her shoes last time for her, just because he was starvin' with nothing'
+to do. She ordered them, and she wears them, too; it makes him so proud,
+she says, to see them. And this is the niece of the Martins of
+Cro' Martin! without one of her kith or kin to welcome her home at
+nightfall,--without father or mother, brother or sister,--without a kind
+voice to say 'God bless her,' as she falls off to sleep many a time in
+that big chair there; and I take off her shoes without her knowin' it,
+she does be so weary and tired; and in her dhrames it 's always talking
+to the people, givin' them courage, and cheerin' them up, tellin' them
+there 's good times for every one; and once, the other evenin', she
+sang a bit of a song, thinkin' she was in Mat Leahy's cabin amusin' the
+children, and she woke up laughin', and said, 'Catty, I 've had such a
+pleasant dhrame. I thought I had little Nora, my godchild, on my knee,
+and was teachin' her “Why are the daisies in the grass?” I can't tell
+you how happy I felt!' There it was: the only thing like company to her
+poor heart was a dhrame!”
+
+“I do not wonder that you love her, Catty,” said Kate; and the words
+fell tremulously from her lips.
+
+“Love her! what's the use of such as me lovin' her?” cried the old
+woman, querulously. “Sure, it's not one of my kind knows how good she
+is! If you only seen her comin' in here, after dark, maybe, wet and
+weary and footsore, half famished with cold and hunger,--out the whole
+livelong day, over the mountains, where there was fever and shakin'
+ague, and starvin' people, ravin' mad between disease and destitution;
+and the first word out of her mouth will be, 'Oh, Catty, how grateful
+you and I ought to be with our warm roof over us, and our snug fire to
+sit at,' never thinkin' of who she is and what she has the right to, but
+just makin' herself the same as _me_. And then she 'd tell me where she
+was, and what she seen, and how well the people was bearin' up under
+their trials,--all the things they said to her, for they 'd tell her
+things they would n't tell the priest. 'Catty,' said she, t' other
+night, 'it looks like heartlessness in me to be in such high spirits
+in the midst of all this misery here; but I feel as if my courage was a
+well that others were drinking out of; and when I go into a cabin, the
+sick man, as he turns his head round, looks happier, and I feel as if
+it was my spirit that was warmin' and cheerin' him; and when a poor
+sick sufferin' child looks up at me and smiles, I 'm ready to drop on my
+knees and thank God in gratitude.'”
+
+Kate covered her face with her hands, and never spoke; and now the old
+woman, warming with the theme she loved best, went on to tell various
+incidents and events of Mary's life,--the perilous accidents which
+befell her, the dangers she braved, the fatigues she encountered. Even
+recounted by _her_, there was a strange adventurous character that ran
+through these recitals, showing that Mary Martin, in all she thought and
+said and acted, was buoyed and sustained by a sort of native chivalry
+that made her actually court the incidents where she incurred the
+greatest hazard. It was plain to see what charm such traits possessed
+for her who recorded them, and how in her old Celtic blood ran the
+strong current of delight in all that pertained to the adventurous and
+the wild.
+
+“'Tis her own father's nature is strong in her,” said Catty, with
+enthusiasm. “Show him the horse that nobody could back, tell him of a
+storm where no fisherman would launch his boat, point out a cliff that
+no man could climb, and let me see who 'd hould him! She 's so like him,
+that when there 's anything daring to be done you would n't know her
+voice from his own. There, now, I hear her without,” cried the old
+woman, as, rising suddenly, she approached the window. “Don't you hear
+something?”
+
+“Nothing but the wind through the trees,” said Kate.
+
+“Ay, but _I_ did, and my ears are older than yours. She's riding through
+the river now; I hear the water splashin'.”
+
+Kate tried to catch the sounds, but could not; she walked out upon the
+lawn to listen, but except the brawling of the stream among the rocks,
+there was nothing to be heard.
+
+“D' ye see her comin'?” asked Catty, eagerly.
+
+“No. Your ears must have deceived you. There is no one coming.”
+
+“I heard her voice, as I hear yours now. I heard her spake to the mare,
+as she always does when she 's plungin' into the river. There, now,
+don't you hear that?”
+
+“I hear nothing, I assure you, my dear Mrs. Broon. It is your own
+anxiety that is misleading you; but if you like, I 'll go down towards
+the river and see.” And without waiting for a reply Kate hastened
+down the slope. As she went, she could not help reflecting over the
+superstition which attaches so much importance to these delusions,
+giving them the character of actual warnings. It was doubtless from the
+mind dwelling so forcibly on Miss Martin's perilous life that the old
+woman's apprehensions had assumed this palpable form, and thus invented
+the very images which should react upon her with terror.
+
+“Just as I thought,” cried Kate, as she stood on the bank of the stream;
+“all silent and deserted, no one within sight.” And slowly she retraced
+her steps towards the cottage. The old woman stood at the door, pale and
+trembling; an attempt to smile was on her features, but her heart denied
+the courage of the effort.
+
+“Where is she now?” cried Catty, wildly. “She rang the bell this minute,
+and I heerd the mare trottin' round to the stable by herself, as she
+always does. But where 's Miss Mary?”
+
+“My dear Mrs. Broon,” said Kate, in her kindest accents, “it is just as
+I told you. Your mind is anxious and uneasy about Miss Martin; you are
+unhappy at her absence, and you think at every stir you hear her coming;
+but I have been to the river-side, and there is no one there. I 'll go
+round to the stables, if you wish it.”
+
+“There 's no tracks of a hoof on the gravel,” muttered the old woman, in
+a broken voice; “there was nobody here!”
+
+“So I said,” replied Kate. “It was a mere delusion,--a fancy.”
+
+“A delusion,--a fancy!” cried Catty, scornfully; “that's the way they
+always spake of whatever they don't understand. It's easier to say that
+than confess you don't see how to explain a thing; but I heerd the same
+sounds before you came to-day; ay, and I went down to see why she was
+n't comin', and at the pool there was bubbles and froth on the water,
+just as if a baste had passed through, but no livin' thing to be seen.
+Was n't that a delusion, too?”
+
+“An accident, perchance. Only think, what lives of misery we should lead
+were we ever tracing our own fears, and connecting them with all the
+changes that go on around us!”
+
+“It's two days she's away, now,” muttered the old woman, who only
+heeded her own thoughts; “she was to be back last night, or early this
+mornin'.”
+
+“Where had she gone to?” asked Kate, who now saw that the other had
+lapsed into confidence.
+
+“She's gone to the islands!--to Innishmore, and maybe, on to Brannock!”
+
+“That's a long way out to sea,” said Kate, thoughtfully; “but still, the
+weather is fine, and the day favorable. Had she any other object than
+pleasure in this excursion?”
+
+“Pleasure is it?” croaked Catty. “'Tis much pleasure she does be given
+herself! Her pleasure is to be where there 's fever and want,--in the
+lonely cabin, where the sick is lyin'! It 's to find a poor crayture
+that run away from home she 's gone now,--one Joan Landy. She's missin'
+this two months, and nobody knows where she 's gone to! and Miss Mary
+got so uneasy at last that she could n't sleep by night nor rest by
+day,--always talkin' about her, and say in' as much as it was all her
+fault; as if _she_ could know why she went, or where?”
+
+“Did she go alone on this errand, then?”
+
+“To be sure she did. Who could she have with her? She towld Loony she 'd
+want the boat with four men in it, and maybe to stay out three days, for
+she 'd go to all the islands before she came back.”
+
+“Loony 's the best sailor on the coast, I 've heard; and with such
+weather as this there is no cause for alarm.”
+
+Catty did not seem to heed the remark; she felt that within her against
+which the words of consolation availed but little, and she sat brooding
+sorrowfully and in silence.
+
+“The night will soon be fallin' now,” said she, at last. “I hope she's
+not at sea!”
+
+In spite of herself, Kate Henderson caught the contagion of the old
+woman's terrors, and felt a dreamy, undefined dread of coming evil. As
+she looked out, however, at the calm and fair landscape, which, as
+day declined, grew each moment more still, she rallied from the gloomy
+thoughts, and said,--“I wish I knew how to be of any service to you,
+Mrs. Broon. If you could think of anything I could do--anywhere I could
+go--” She stopped suddenly at a gesture from the old woman, who, lifting
+her hand to impress silence, stood a perfect picture of eager anxiety
+to hear. Bending down her head, old Catty stood for several seconds
+motionless.
+
+“Don't ye hear it now?” broke she in. “Listen! I thought I heerd
+something like a wailin' sound far off, but it is the wind. See how the
+tree-tops are bendin'!--That's three times I heerd it now,” said Catty.
+“If ye live to be as old as me, you 'll not think light of a warnin'.
+You think your hearin' better because you're younger; but I tell you
+that there 's sounds that only reach ears that are goin' to where the
+voices came from. When eyes grow dim to sights of this world, they are
+strainin' to catch a glimpse of them that's beyond it.” Although no
+tears rose to her eyes, the withered face trembled in her agony, and her
+clasped hands shook in the suffering of her sorrow.
+
+Against impressions of this sort, Kate knew well enough how little
+reasoning availed, and she forbore to press arguments which she was
+aware would be unsuccessful. She tried, however, to turn the current of
+the old woman's thoughts, by leading her to speak of the condition of
+the country and the state of the people. Catty gave short, abrupt, and
+unwilling answers to all she asked, and Kate at length arose to take her
+leave.
+
+“You're goin' away, are ye?” said Catty, half angrily.
+
+“I have only just remembered that I have a long way to walk, and it is
+already growing late.”
+
+“Ay, and ye 're impatient to be back again, at home, beside your own
+fire, with your own people. But _she_ has no home, and her own has
+deserted her!”
+
+“Mine has not many charms for me!” muttered Kate to herself.
+
+“It's happy for you that has father and mother,” went on the old woman.
+“Them 's the only ones, after all!--the only ones that never loves the
+less, the less we desarve it! I don't wonder ye came back again!” And in
+a sort of envious bitterness Catty wished her a good-night.
+
+If the distance she had to walk was not shortened by the tenor of her
+thoughts, as little did she feel impatient to press onward. Dreary and
+sad enough were her reveries. Of the wild visionary ambitions which once
+had stirred her heart, there remained nothing but disappointments. She
+had but passed the threshold of life to find all dreary and desolate;
+but perhaps the most painful feeling of the moment was the fact that now
+pressed conviction on her, and told that in the humble career of such a
+one as Mary Martin there lay a nobler heroism and a higher devotion
+than in the most soaring path of political ambition, and that all the
+theorizing as to popular rights made but a sorry figure beside the
+actual benefits conferred by one true-hearted lover of her kind. “She
+is right, and I am wrong!” muttered she to herself. “In declining to
+entertain questions of statecraft she showed herself above, and not
+beneath, the proud position she had taken. The very lowliness of
+this task is its glory. Oh, if I could but win her confidence and be
+associated in such a labor! and yet my very birth denies me the prestige
+that hers confers.” And then she thought of home, and all the coldness
+of that cheerless greeting smote upon her heart.
+
+The moon was up ere Kate arrived at her father's door. She tapped at
+it gently, almost timidly. Her stepmother, as if expecting her, came
+quickly, and in a low, cautious whisper told her that she would find her
+supper ready in her bedroom.
+
+“To-morrow, perhaps, he may be in better humor or better spirits.
+Good-night.” And so Kate silently stole along to her room, her proud
+heart swelling painfully, and her tearless eye burning with all the heat
+of a burning brain.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXX. “A TEA-PARTY” AT MRS. CRONAN'S
+
+Once more, but for the last time, we are at Kilkieran. To a dreary day
+of incessant rain succeeded an evening still drearier. Wild gusts swept
+along the little shore, and shook the frail windows and ill-fitting
+doors of the cottages, while foam and sea-drift were wafted over the
+roofs, settling like snow-flakes on the tall cliffs above them. And yet
+it was midsummer! By the almanac the time was vouched to be the opening
+of the season; a fact amply corroborated by the fashionable assemblage
+then enjoying the hospitalities of Mrs. Cronan's tea-table. There they
+were, with a single exception, the same goodly company already presented
+to the reader in an early chapter of our story. We have already
+mentioned the great changes which time had worked in the appearance
+of the little watering-place. The fostering care of proprietorship
+withdrawn, the ornamental villa of the Martins converted into a
+miserable village inn, the works of the pier and harbor suspended, and
+presenting in their unfinished aspect the dreary semblance of ruin and
+decay,--all conspired with the falling fortunes of the people to make
+the scene a sad one. Little evidence of this decline, however, could be
+traced in the aspect of that pleasant gathering, animated with all its
+ancient taste for whist, scandal, and shrimps; their appetite for such
+luxuries seeming rather to have increased than diminished by years.
+Not that we presume to say they could claim any immunity against the
+irrevocable decrees of age. Unhappily, the confession may be deemed not
+exactly in accordance with gallantry; but it is strictly true, time
+had no more forgotten the living than the inanimate accessories of
+the picture. Miss Busk, of the Emporium, had grown more sour and more
+stately. The vinegar of her temperament was verging upon verjuice, and
+the ill opinion of mankind experience enforced had written itself
+very legibly on her features. The world had not improved upon her by
+acquaintance. Not so Captain Bodkin; fatter and more wheezy than ever,
+he seemed to relish life rather more than when younger. He had given up,
+too, that long struggle with himself about bathing, and making up his
+mind to suffer no “sea-change;” he was, therefore, more cheerful than
+before.
+
+As for Mrs. Cronan, “the little comforts she was used to” had sorely
+diminished by the pressure of the times, and, in consequence, she
+drew unlimited drafts upon the past to fill up the deficiencies of the
+present. Strange enough is it, that the faults and follies of society
+are just as adhesive ingredients as its higher qualities! These
+people had grown so used to each other in all their eccentric ways
+and oddities, that they had become fond of them; like a pilot long
+accustomed to rocks and sandbanks, they could only steer their course
+where there was something to avoid!
+
+The remainder of the goodly company had grown stouter or thinner,
+jollier or more peevish, as temperament inclined; for it is with human
+nature as with wine: if the liquor does not get racier with years, it
+degenerates sadly.
+
+The first act of the whist and backgammon playing was over, and the
+party now sat, stood, crouched, lounged, or lay, as chance and the state
+of the furniture permitted, at supper. At the grand table, of course,
+were the higher dignitaries, such as Father Maher, the Captain, Miss
+Busk, and Mrs. Clinch; but cockles were eaten, and punch discussed in
+various very odd quarters; bursts of joyous laughter, too, came from
+dark pantries, and sounds of merriment mingled with the jangling crash
+of kitchen utensils. Reputations were roasted and pancakes fried,
+characters and chickens alike mangled, and all the hubbub of a festival
+prevailed in a scene where the efforts of the fair hostess were directed
+to produce an air of unblemished elegance and gentility.
+
+Poor Clinch, the revenue officer, who invariably eat what he called “his
+bit” in some obscure quarter, alone and companionless, was twice “had
+up” before the authorities for the row and uproar that prevailed, and
+underwent a severe cross-examination, “as to where he was when Miss
+Cullenane was making the salad,” and, indeed, cut a very sorry figure
+at the conclusion of the inquiry. All the gayeties and gravities of
+the scene, however, gradually toned down as the serious debate of the
+evening came on; which was no other than the lamentable condition of
+the prospects of Kilkieran, and the unanimous opinion of the ruinous
+consequences that must ensue from the absence of the proprietor.
+
+“We 've little chance of getting up the news-room now,” said the
+Captain. “The Martins won't give a sixpence for anything.”
+
+“It is something to give trade an impulse we want, sir,” broke in
+Miss Busk,--“balls and assemblies; evening reunions of the _élite_ of
+society, where the elegance of the toilet should rival the _distingué_
+air of the company.”
+
+“That's word for word out of the 'Intelligence,'” cried the Captain.
+“It's unparliamentary to quote the newspapers.”
+
+“I detest the newspapers,” broke in Miss Busk, angrily; “after
+advertising the Emporium for two seasons in the 'Galway Celt,' they gave
+me a leading article beginning, 'As the hot weather is now commencing,
+and the season for fashion approaches, we cannot better serve the
+interests of our readers than by directing attention to the elegant
+“Symposium!”' 'Symposium!'--I give you my word of honor that's what they
+put it.”
+
+“On my conscience! it might have been worse,” chuckled out the Captain.
+
+“It was young Nelligan explained to me what it was,” resumed Miss Busk;
+“and Scanlan said, 'I'd have an action against them for damages.'”
+
+“Keep out of law, my dear!--keep out of law!” sighed Mrs. Cronan. “See
+to what it has reduced me! I, that used to go out in my own coach, with
+two men in green and gold; that had my house in town, and my house in
+the country; that had gems and ornaments such as a queen might wear! And
+there's all that's left me now!” And she pointed to a brooch about the
+size of a cheese-plate, where a melancholy gentleman in uniform was
+represented, with a border of mock pearls around him. “The last pledge
+of affection!” sobbed she.
+
+“Of course you wouldn't pledge it, my dear,” muttered the deaf old Mrs.
+Few; “and they'd give you next to nothing on it, besides.”
+
+[Illustration: 324]
+
+“We 'll have law enough here soon, it seems,” said Mrs. Cronan, angrily;
+for the laugh this blunder excited was by no means flattering and
+pleasant. “There 's Magennis's action first for trial at the Assizes.”
+
+“That will be worth hearing,” said Mrs. Clinch. “They 'll have the first
+lawyers from Dublin on each side.”
+
+“Did you hear the trick they played off on Joe Nelligan about it?” asked
+the Captain. “It was cleverly done. Magennis found out, some way or
+other, that Joe wanted to be engaged against him; and so what does he
+do but gets a servant dressed up in the Martin livery, and sends him to
+Joe's house on the box of a coach, inside of which was a gentleman
+that begged a word with the Counsellor. 'You 're not engaged, I hope,
+Counsellor Nelligan,' says he, 'in Magennis against Martin?' 'No,' says
+Joe, for he caught a glimpse of the livery. 'You're quite free?' says
+the other. 'Quite free,' says he. 'That's all I want, then,' says he;
+'here's your brief, and here's your retainer;' and he put both down on
+the table, and when Joe looked down he saw he was booked for Magennis.
+You may imagine how he felt; but he never uttered a word, for there was
+no help for it.”
+
+“And do you mean to tell me,” cried Mrs. Clinch, “that the lawyers can't
+help themselves, but must just talk and rant and swear for any one that
+asks them first?”
+
+“It's exactly what I mean, ma'am,” responded the Captain. “They 've no
+more choice in the matter than the hangman has as to who be 'll hang.”
+
+“Then I'd as soon be a gauger!” exclaimed the lady, with a contemptuous
+glance at poor Clinch, who winced under the observation.
+
+“But I don't see what they wanted young Nelligan for,” said Miss Busk;
+“what experience or knowledge has _he?_”
+
+“He's just the first man of the day,” said Bodkin. “They tell me that
+whether it be to crook out a flaw in the enemy's case, to pick a hole in
+a statement, to crush a witness, or cajole the jury, old Repton himself
+is n't his equal.”
+
+“I suppose, from the airs he gives himself, he must be something
+wonderful,” said Mrs. Cronan.
+
+“Well, now, I differ from you there, ma'am,” replied Bodkin. “I think
+Joe is just what he always was. He was cold, silent, and distant as a
+boy, and he 's the same as a man. Look at him when he comes down here at
+the Assizes, down to the town where his father is selling glue and hides
+and tenpenny-nails, and he 's just as easy and unconstrained as if the
+old man was Lord of Cro' Martin Castle.”
+
+“That's the height of impertinence,” broke in Miss Busk; “it's only
+real blood has any right to rise above the depreciating accidents of
+condition. I know it by myself.”
+
+“Well, I wonder what he 'll make of this case, anyhow,” said feodkin, to
+escape a controversy he had no fancy for. “They tell me that no action
+can lie on it. It's not abduction--”
+
+“For shame, Captain; you forget there are ladies here,” said Mrs.
+Clinch.
+
+“Indeed I don't,” sighed he, with a half-comic melancholy in his look.
+
+“I'll tell you how they do it, sir,” chimed in Father Maher. “Whenever
+there 's anything in law that never was foreseen or provided for,
+against which there is neither act nor statute, they 've one grand and
+unfailing resource,--they charge it as a conspiracy. I 've a brother an
+attorney, and he tells me that there is n't a man, woman, or child in
+the kingdom but could be indicted for doing something by a conspiracy.”
+
+“It's a great comfort to know that,” said Bodkin, gravely.
+
+“And what can they do to her if she's found guilty?” asked Mrs. Cronan.
+
+“Make her smart for the damages, ma'am; leave her something less to
+expend on perversion and interference with the people,” said the priest.
+“The parish isn't the same since she began visiting this one and reading
+to that. Instead of respect and confidence in their spiritual guides,
+the people are running after a young girl with a head full of wild
+schemes and contrivances. We all know by this time how these things end,
+and the best receipt to make a Protestant begins, 'First starve your
+Papist.'”
+
+“I rise to order,” called out Bodkin. “We agreed we'd have no polemics
+nor party discussions.”
+
+“Why am I appealed to, then, for explanations that involve them?”
+ cried the priest, angrily. “I'm supported, too, in my observations by a
+witness none will dispute,--that Scotchman, Henderson--”
+
+“By the way, isn't his daughter come home to him?” asked Bodkin, eager
+for a diversion.
+
+“Indeed she is, sir; and a pretty story there is about it, too. Miss
+Busk knows it all,” said Mrs. Cronan.
+
+“I have it in confidence, ma'am, from Jemima Davis,--Lady Dorothea's
+second maid; but I don't think it a fit subject for public
+conversation.”
+
+“And ain't we in committee here?” chimed in Bodkin; “have we any secrets
+from each other?” The racy laugh of the old fellow, as he threw a
+knowing glance around the table, rather disconcerted the company. “Let's
+hear about Henderson's daughter.”
+
+“The story is soon told, sir. Lady Dorothea detected her endeavoring to
+draw young Martin into a private marriage. The artful creature, by
+some means or other, had obtained such an insight into the young man's
+difficulties that she actually terrorized over his weak mind.
+She discovered, too, it is suspected, something rather more than
+indiscretions on his part.”
+
+A long low whistle from the priest seemed to impart a kind of gratified
+surprise at this announcement.
+
+“He had got into a habit of signing his name, they say; and whether he
+signed it to something he had no right to, or signed another name by
+mistake--”
+
+“Oh, for shame,” broke in Bodkin; “that wouldn't be one bit like a
+Martin.”
+
+“Perhaps you are acquainted with all the circumstances better than
+myself, sir?” said Miss Busk, bristling up with anger. “Maybe you 've
+heard how the Henderson girl was turned away out of the French duke's
+family,--how she was found in correspondence with the leaders of the mob
+in Paris? Maybe, sir, you are aware that she has some mysterious hold
+over her father, and he dares not gainsay one word she says?”
+
+“I don't know one word of it; and if it wasn't thought rude, I'd say I
+don't believe it, either,” said Bodkin, stoutly.
+
+“I believe the worst that could be said of her,” said Mrs. Clinch.
+
+“Well, well, make her as bad as you like; but how does that prove
+anything against young Martin? and if you can find nothing heavier to
+say of him than that he wanted to marry a very handsome girl--”
+
+“A low creature!” broke in Miss Busk.
+
+“The lowest of the low!” chimed in Mrs. Cronan.
+
+“An impudent, upsetting minx!” added Mrs. Clinch. “Nothing would serve
+her but a post-chaise the morning she arrived by the mail for Dublin;
+and, signs on it, when she got home she had n't money to pay for it.”
+
+“It was n't that she left her place empty-handed, then,” said Miss Busk.
+“Jemima tells me that she managed the whole house,--paid for everything;
+and we all know what comes of that.”
+
+Miss Busk, in delivering this sentiment, was seated with her back to
+the door, towards which suddenly every eye was now turned in mingled
+astonishment and confusion; she moved round to see the cause, and there
+beheld the very object of her commentary standing close behind her
+chair. Closely wrapped in a large cloak, the hood of which she wore
+over her head, her tall figure looked taller and more imposing in its
+motionless attitude.
+
+“I have to ask pardon for this intrusion, ladies,” said she, calmly;
+“but you will forgive me when I tell the reason of it. I have just
+received very sad tidings, which ought to be conveyed to Miss Martin;
+she is at the islands, and I have no means of following her, unless Mr.
+Clinch will kindly lend me the revenue boat--”
+
+“And accompany you, I hope,” broke in Mrs. Clinch, with a sneer.
+
+Kate did not notice the taunting remark, but went on, “You will be
+grieved to hear that Mr. Martin is no more.”
+
+“Martin dead!” muttered the Captain.
+
+“Dead! When did he die?” “Where did it happen?” “How?” “Of what
+malady?” “Are his remains coming home?” were asked in quick succession
+by several voices.
+
+“This letter will tell you all that I know myself,” said she, laying it
+on the table. “May I venture to hope Mr. Clinch will so far oblige me?
+The fishermen say the sea is too rough for their craft.”
+
+“It's not exactly on the King's service, I opine, ma'am,” broke in Mrs.
+Clinch; “but of course he is too gallant to oppose your wishes.”
+
+“Faith! if you wanted any one with you, and would accept of myself,”
+ broke in Bodkin, “I'm ready this minute; not that exactly salt water is
+my element.”
+
+“The young lady is accustomed to travel alone, or she is much belied,”
+ said Miss Busk, with a sneer.
+
+“I suppose you'd better let her have the boat, Clinch,” said his wife,
+in a whisper. “There's no knowing what might come of it if you refused.”
+
+“I 'll go down and muster the crew for you, Miss Henderson,” said
+Clinch, not sorry to escape, although the exchange was from a warm cabin
+to the beating rain without.
+
+“Poor Martin!” sighed Bodkin; “he was the first of the family for many a
+long year that did n't breathe his last under his own roof. I 'm sure it
+weighed heavily on him.”
+
+“I trust his son will follow his example, nevertheless,” said the
+priest. “I don't want to see one of the name amongst us.”
+
+“You might have worse, Father Maher,” said Bodkin, angrily.
+
+And now a lively discussion ensued as to the merits of him they
+had lost, for the most part with more of charity than many of their
+dissertations; from this they branched off into speculations about the
+future. Would the “present man” reside at home? would her Ladyship come
+back? what would be Mary's position? how would Scanlan fare? what of
+Henderson, too? In fact, casualties of every kind were debated,
+and difficulties started, that they might be as readily reconciled.
+Meanwhile Kate was hastening down to the shore, followed, rather than
+escorted, by little Clinch, who even in the darkness felt that the
+conjugal eye was upon him.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXI. THE BRANNOCK ISLANDS
+
+A little to the northwest of the island of Innishmore are scattered a
+number of small islets, some scarcely more than barren rocks, called
+the Brannocks. One of these alone was inhabited, and that by a single
+family. No isolation could be more complete than that of these poor
+people, who thus dwelt amid the wide waste of waters, never seeing the
+face of a stranger, and only at long intervals visiting the mainland.
+Indeed the only intercourse they could be said to maintain with their
+fellow-men was when by chance they fell in with some homeward-bound ship
+at sea, and sold the little produce of their nets; for they lived by
+fishing, and had no other subsistence.
+
+The largest of these islands was called “Brannock-buoy,” or the Yellow
+Brannock, from the flower of a kind of crocus which grew profusely over
+it. It was a wild, desolate spot, scarcely rising above the waves around
+it, save in one quarter, where a massive column of rock rose to the
+height of several hundred feet, and formed the only shelter against the
+swooping wind, which came without break or hindrance from the far-away
+shores of Labrador. At the foot of this strong barrier--so small and
+insignificant as to escape notice from the sea--stood the little cabin
+of Owen Joyce. Built in a circular form, the chimney in the middle, the
+rude structure resembled some wigwam of the prairies rather than the
+home of civilized beings.
+
+Certain low partitions within subdivided the space into different
+chambers, making the centre the common apartment of the family, where
+they cooked and ate and chatted; for, with all their poverty and
+privation, theirs was a life not devoid of its own happiness, nor did
+they believe that their lot was one to repine at.
+
+Seasons of unprofitable labor, years of more or less pressure, they had
+indeed experienced, but actual want had never visited them; sickness,
+too, was almost as rare. Owen Joyce was, at the time we speak of,
+upwards of eighty; and although his hair was white as snow, his cheek
+was ruddy, his white teeth were perfect, and his eye--like that of
+Moses--“was not dim.” Surrounded by his children and grandchildren, the
+old man lived happy and contented, his daily teaching being to impress
+upon them the blessings they derived from a life so sheltered from all
+the accidents of fortune; to have, as he called the island, “the little
+craft all their own.”
+
+The traits of race and family, the limited range of their intercourse
+with the world, served to make them all wonderfully alike, not only in
+feature but expression; so that even the youngest child had something of
+the calm, steadfast look which characterized the old man. The jet-black
+hair and eyes and the swarthy skin seemed to indicate a Spanish origin,
+and gave them a type perfectly distinctive and peculiar.
+
+In the midst of them moved one who, though dressed in the light-blue
+woollen kirtle, the favorite costume of the islands, bore in her fresh
+bright features the traces of a different blood; her deep blue eye, soft
+and almost sleepy, her full, well-curved lips, were strong contrasts to
+the traits around her. The most passing glance would have detected
+that she was not “one of them,” nor had she been long an inmate of this
+dwelling.
+
+It chanced that some short time before, one of Joyce's sons, in boarding
+an outward-bound American ship, had heard of a young countrywoman
+who, having taken her passage for New York, no sooner found herself at
+sea--parted, as she deemed it, forever from home and country--than she
+gave way to the most violent grief; so poignant, indeed, was her sorrow
+that the captain compassionately offered to relinquish her passage-money
+if Joyce would take charge of her, and re-land her on the shores of
+Ireland. The offer was accepted, and the same evening saw her safely
+deposited on the rocky island of Brannock. Partly in gratitude to her
+deliverer, partly in the indulgence of a secret wish, she asked leave
+to remain with them and be their servant; the compact was agreed to, and
+thus was she there.
+
+Theirs was not a life to engender the suspicions and distrusts which
+are current in the busier walks of men. None asked her a reason for her
+self-banishment, none inquired whether the cause of her exile was
+crime or misfortune. They had grown to feel attachment to her for the
+qualities of her gentle, quiet nature, a mild submissive temper, and a
+disposition to oblige, that forgot nothing save herself. Her habits had
+taught her resources and ways which their isolated existence had denied
+them, and she made herself useful by various arts, which, simple as they
+were, seemed marvellous to the apprehension of her hosts; and thus, day
+by day, gaining on their love and esteem, they came at length to regard
+her with an affection mingled with a sort of homage.
+
+Poor Joan Landy--for we have not to explain that it was she--was
+happy,--happier than ever she had been before. The one great sorrow of
+her life was, it is true, treasured in her heart; her lost home,
+her blighted hope, her severed affection--for she actually loved
+Magennis--were griefs over which she wept many an hour in secret;
+but there was a sense of duty, a conscious feeling of rectitude,
+that supported her in her sacrifice, and as she thought of her old
+grandfather's death-bed, she could say to her heart, “I have been true
+to my word with him.”
+
+The unbroken quiet, the unchanging character of the life she led,--its
+very duties following a routine that nothing ever disturbed,--gave her
+ample time for thought; and thought, though tinged with melancholy, has
+its own store of consolation; and if poor Joan sorrowed, she sorrowed
+like one who rather deplored the past than desired to re-live it! As
+time wore on, a dreamy indistinctness seemed to spread itself over the
+memory of her former life: it appeared little other than a mind-drawn
+picture. Nothing actual or tangible remained to convince her of its
+reality. It was only at rare intervals, and in the very clearest
+weather, the outline of the mountains of the mainland could be seen; and
+when she did behold them, they brought only some vague recollection to
+her; and so, too, the memories of her once home came through the haze of
+distance, dim and indistinct.
+
+It was at the close of a day in June that the Joyces sat in front of
+the little cabin, repairing their nets, and getting their tackle in
+readiness for the sea. For some time previous the weather had been
+broken and unfavorable. Strong west winds and heavy seas--far from
+infrequent in these regions, even in midsummer--had rendered fishing
+impracticable; but now the aspect of a new moon, rising full an hour
+before sunset, gave promise of better, and old Joyce had got the launch
+drawn up on shore to refit, and sails were spread out upon the rocks to
+dry, and coils of rope, and anchors, and loose spars littered the little
+space before the door. The scene was a busy and not an unpicturesque
+one. There was every age, from the oldest to very infancy, all active,
+all employed. Some were calking the seams of the boat, others overhauled
+sails and cordage; some were preparing the nets, attaching cork floats
+or sinkers; and two chubby urchins, mere infants, laughing, fed the
+fire that blazed beneath a large pitch-pot, the light blue smoke rising
+calmly into the air, and telling those far away that the lone rock
+was not without inhabitants. To all seeming, these signs of life and
+habitation bad attracted notice; for a small boat which had quitted
+Innishmore for the mainland some time before, now altered her course,
+and was seen slowly bearing up towards the Brannocks. Though the sea was
+calm and waveless, the wind was only sufficient to waft her along at the
+slowest rate; a twinkling flash of the sea at intervals showed, however,
+that her crew were rowing, and at length the measured beat of the oars
+could be distinctly heard.
+
+Many were the speculations of those who watched her course. They knew
+she was not a fishing-craft; her light spars and white sails were
+sufficient to refute that opinion. Neither was she one of the
+revenue-boats. What could she be, then, since no large ship was in sight
+to which she could have belonged? It is only to those who have at some
+one period or other of life sojourned in some lone spot of earth, away
+from human intercourse, that the anxiety of these poor people could be
+intelligible. If, good reader,--for to you we now appeal,--it has not
+been your lot to have once on a time lived remote from the world and
+its ways, you cannot imagine how intensely interesting can become the
+commonest of those incidents which mark ordinary existence. They assume,
+indeed, very different proportions from the real, and come charged with
+innumerable imaginings about that wondrous life, far, far away, where
+there are thoughts and passions and deeds and events which never enter
+into the dreamland of exile! It was a little after sunset that the boat
+glided into the small creek which formed the only harbor of the island;
+and the moment after, a young girl sprang on the shore, and hastened
+towards them.
+
+[Illustration: 334]
+
+Before the Joyces had recovered from their first surprise, they saw Joan
+burst from the spot, and, rushing down the slope, throw herself at the
+stranger's feet.
+
+“And have I found you at last, dear Joan?” cried a soft, low voice,
+while the speaker raised her tenderly from the ground, and took her hand
+kindly within both her own.
+
+“Oh, Miss Mary, to think you 'd come after me this far! over the say!”
+ burst out Joan, sobbing through her joy; for joy it was that now lit
+up her features, and made her eyes sparkle even through the fresh tears
+that filled them.
+
+“They told me you had sailed from Galway,” resumed Mary, “and I wrote
+to the ship-agent and found it was correct: your name was in the list of
+passengers, and the date of the day you sailed; but, I know not how it
+was, Joan, I still clung to the notion that you had contrived this plan
+to escape being discovered, and that you were concealed somewhere along
+the coast or in the islands. I believe I used to dream of this at first,
+but at last I thought of it all day long.”
+
+“Thought of _me_ all day long?” broke in Joan, sobbing.
+
+“And why not, poor child? Was I not the cause of your leaving your
+home? Was it not my persuasion that induced you to leave the roof that
+sheltered you? I have often wondered whether I had right and reason on
+my side. I know at the time I believed I had such. At all events, but
+for me you had never quitted that home; but see, Joan, how what we are
+led to do with an honest purpose, if it fail to effect what we had in
+view, often leads to better and happier ends than we ever dreamed of.
+I only thought of conveying to you the last message of your poor
+grandfather. I little imagined how so simple an act could influence
+all your future fortune in life; and such it has done. Mr. Magennis,
+suspecting or discovering what share I had in your flight, has begun a
+law proceeding against me, and to give him a rightful claim for redress,
+has declared you to be--all that you wish, dear Joan--his lawful, wedded
+wife.”
+
+It was some time before the poor girl could stifle the sobbing which
+burst from her very heart. She kissed Mary's hands over and over with
+rapture, and cried out at length, in broken, faltering accents, “Did
+n't they say well that called you a saint from heaven? Didn't they tell
+truth that said, God gave you as a blessing to us?”
+
+“My poor Joan, you are grateful to me for what I have no share in. I am
+nothing but the bearer of good tidings. But tell me, how have you fared
+since we parted? Let me hear all that has happened to you.”
+
+Joan told her simple story in a few words, never deviating from the
+narrative, save to speak her heartfelt gratitude to the poor people who
+had sheltered and befriended her.
+
+“There they are!” cried she, pointing to the group, who, with a delicacy
+of sentiment that might have graced the most refined class, sat
+apart, never venturing by a look to obtrude upon the confidence of the
+others,--“there they are; and if the world was like them, life would n't
+have many crosses!”
+
+Mary rose, and drew nigh the old man, who stood up respectfully to
+receive her.
+
+“He does n't know much English, Miss Mary,” whispered Joan in her ear.
+
+“Nor am I well skilled in Irish,” said Mary, smiling; “but I 'll do my
+best to thank him.”
+
+However imperfectly she spoke the native tongue, the words seemed to
+act like a charm on those who heard them; and as, young and old, they
+gathered around her, their eager looks and delighted faces beamed with a
+triumphant joy. They had learned from the boatmen that it was the young
+princess--as in the language of the people she was called--was before
+them, and their pride and happiness knew no bounds.
+
+Oh, if courtiers could feel one tithe of the personal devotion to the
+sovereign that did these poor peasants to her they regarded as their
+chief, what an atmosphere of chivalry would breathe within the palace
+of royalty! There was nothing they would not have done or dared at her
+bidding; and as she crossed their threshold, and sat down beside their
+hearth, the tears of joy that rose to every eye showed that this was an
+event to be treasured till memory could retain no more!
+
+If Mary did not speak the native dialect fluently, there was a grace and
+a charm about the turn of the expressions she used that never failed to
+delight those who heard her. That imaginative thread that runs through
+the woof of Irish nature in every rank and condition of life--more
+conspicuous, probably, in the very humblest--imparted an intense
+pleasure to hearing and listening to her; and she, on her side, roused
+and stimulated by the adventurous character of the incident, the strange
+wild spot, the simple people, their isolation and their innocence, spoke
+with a warmth and an enthusiasm that were perfectly captivating.
+
+She had seen much of the peasantry,--known them in the most unfrequented
+tracts, remote from all their fellow-men,--in far-away glens, by dreary
+mountains, where no footpaths led; but anything so purely simple and
+unsophisticated as these poor people she had never met with. The sons
+had been--and that rarely, too--on the mainland, but the children and
+their mothers had never left the Brannocks; they had never beheld a
+tree, nor even a flower, save the wild crocus on their native rock. With
+what eager delight, then, did they hear Mary describe the gardens of the
+castle,--pictures that glowed with all the gorgeous colors of a fairy
+tale. “You shall all come and see me, some of these days. I'll send you
+a messenger, to say the time,” said Mary; “and I'll promise that what
+you 'll witness will be far above my description of it!”
+
+It was a sad moment when Mary arose to say good-bye. Joan, too, was to
+accompany her, and the grief at parting with her was extreme. Again and
+again the children clung round her, entreating her not to leave them;
+and she herself half faltered in her resolution. That lonely rock, that
+rude cabin, had been her refuge in the darkest hour of her life, and she
+felt the superstitious terror of her class at now deserting them.
+
+“Come, come, dear Joan, remember that you have a home now that you
+can rightfully return to,” whispered Mary. “It is not in shame, but in
+honor, that you go back to it.”
+
+It was already dark ere they left the Brannocks: a long, heavy swell,
+too, the signs of a storm, coming from the westward, made the boatmen
+eager to hasten their departure. As yet, however, the air was calm and
+still, but it was with that oppressive stillness that forebodes change.
+They hoisted their sail, but soon saw that they must, for a while at
+least, trust to their oars. The unbroken stillness, save by the measured
+stroke of the rowers, the dense dark atmosphere, and the reaction, after
+a day of toil and an event of a most moving kind, so overcame Mary that,
+leaning on Joan's shoulder, she fell off fast asleep. For a while Joan,
+proud of the burden she supported, devoted all her care to watch
+and protect her from the night air; but at last weariness stole over
+herself, and she dropped off to slumber.
+
+Meanwhile the sea was rising; heavy waves struck the boat, and washed
+over her in sheets of spray, although no wind was stirring.
+
+“We 'll have rain, or a gale of wind before long,” said one of the men.
+
+“There 's some heavy drops falling now,” muttered another.
+
+“Throw that sail over Miss Mary, for it will soon come down heavily.”
+
+A loud clap of thunder burst forth, and as suddenly, like a torrent, the
+rain poured down, hissing over the dark sea, and filling the air with a
+dull, discordant noise. Still they slept on, nor heard nor felt aught of
+that gathering storm.
+
+“There now, sure enough, it 's coming,” cried a boatman, as the sail
+shook tremulously; and two great waves, in quick succession, broke over
+the bow.
+
+“We'll have to run for Innishmore,” said another, “and lucky if we get
+there before it comes on worse.”
+
+“You ought to wake her up, Loony, and ask her what we are to do.”
+
+“I 'll make straight for the harbor of Kilkieran,” replied the helmsman.
+“The wind is with us, and she's a good sea-boat. Take in the jib,
+Maurice, and we'll shorten all sail on her, and--”
+
+The rest of his speech was drowned in the uproar of a tremendous sea,
+which struck the boat on her quarter and nearly overset her. Not another
+word was now uttered, as, with the instinct of their calling, they
+set about to prepare for the coming conflict. The mainsail was quickly
+lowered and reefed, the oars and loose spars secured, and then, seating
+themselves in the bottom of the boat, they waited in silence. By this
+time the rain had passed over, and a strong wind swept over the sea.
+
+“She's going fast through the water, anyway!” said one of the men. But
+though the speech was meant to cheer, none felt or acknowledged the
+encouragement.
+
+“I 'd rather than own Cro' Martin Castle Miss Mary was safe at home!”
+ said Loony, as he drew the rough sleeve of his coat across his eyes,
+“for it's thicker it's getting over yonder!”
+
+“It would be a black day that anything happened her!” muttered another.
+
+“Musha! we've wives and childer,” said a third, “but she's worth a
+thousand of us!”
+
+And thus, in broken whispers, they spoke; not a thought save of her, not
+a care save for her safety. They prayed, too, fervently, and her name
+was in all their supplications.
+
+“She's singing to herself in her sleep,” whispered Loony. And the rough
+sailors hushed to hear her.
+
+Louder and louder, however, grew the storm, sheets of spray and drift
+falling over the boat in showers, and all her timbers quivering as she
+labored in the stormy sea. A sailor whispered something in Loony's ear,
+and he grumbled out in reply,--“Why would I wake her up?”
+
+“But I _am_ awake, Loony,” said Mary, in a low, calm voice, “and I see
+all our danger; but I see, too, that you are meeting it like brave men,
+and, better still, like good ones.”
+
+“The men was thinking we ought to bear up for Innish-more, Miss Mary,”
+ said Loony, as though ashamed of offering on his own part such counsel.
+
+“You'll do what you think best and safest for us all, Loony.”
+
+“But you were always the captain, miss, when you were aboord!” replied
+he, with an effort to smile.
+
+“And so I should be now, Loony, but that my heart is too full to be as
+calm and resolute as I ought to be. This poor thing had not been here
+now, but for _me_.” And she wrapped her shawl around Joan as she spoke.
+“Maybe it's anxiety, perhaps fatigue, but I have not my old courage
+to-night!”
+
+“Faix! it will never be fear that will distress you!” said he.
+
+“If you mean for myself and my own safety, Loony, you are right. It is
+not for me to repine at the hour that calls me away, but I cannot
+bear to think how you and others, with so many dear to you, should be
+perilled just to serve _me!_ And poor Joan, too, at the moment when life
+was about to brighten for her!” She held down her head for a minute or
+two, and then suddenly, as it were, rallying, she cried out, “The boat
+is laboring too much for'ard, Loony; set the jib on her!”
+
+“To be sure, if you ordher it, Miss Mary; but she has more sail now than
+she can carry.”
+
+“Set the jib, Loony. I know the craft well; she 'll ride the waves all
+the lighter for it. If it were but daylight, I almost think I 'd enjoy
+this. We 've been out in as bad before.”
+
+Loony shook his head as he went forward to bend the additional sail.
+
+“You see she won't bear it, miss,” cried he, as the boat plunged
+fearfully into the trough of the sea.
+
+“Let us try,” said she, calmly. “Stand by, ready to slack off, if I
+give the word.” And so saying, she took the tiller from the sailor, and
+seated herself on the weather-gunwale. “There, see how she does it now!
+Ah, Loony, confess, I am the true pilot. I knew my nerve would come back
+when I took my old post here. I was always a coward in a carriage, if I
+was n't on the box and the reins in my hands; and the same at sea.
+Sit up to windward, men, and don't move; never mind baling, only keep
+quiet.”
+
+“Miss Mary was right,” muttered one of the men; “the head-sail is
+drawing her high out of the water!”
+
+“Is that dark mass before us cloud, or the land?” cried she.
+
+“It's the mountains, miss. There to the left, where you see the dip in
+the ridge, that's Kilkieran. I think I see the lights on shore now.”
+
+“I see them now myself,” cried Mary. “Oh, how the sight of land gives
+love of life! They called earth truly who named her mother!” said she to
+herself. “What was that which swept past us, Loony?”
+
+“A boat, miss; and they're hailing us now,” cried he, peeping over the
+gunwale. “They've put her about, and are following our course. They came
+out after us.”
+
+“It was gallantly done, on such a night as this! I was just thinking to
+myself that poor old Mat Landy would have been out, were he living. You
+must take the tiller now, Loony, for I don't understand the lights on
+shore.”
+
+“Because they're shifting every minute, miss. It's torches they have,
+and they 're moving from place to place; but we 'll soon be safe now.”
+
+“Let us not forget this night, men,” said Mary, in a fervent voice. And
+then, burying her face within her hands, she spoke no more.
+
+It was already daybreak when they gained the little harbor, well-nigh
+exhausted, and worn out with fatigue and anxiety. As for Mary, wet
+through and cold, she could not rise from her seat without assistance,
+and almost fainted as she put her foot on shore. She turned one glance
+seaward to where the other boat was seen following them, and then,
+holding Joan's hand, she slowly toiled up the rocky ascent to the
+village. To the crowd of every age that surrounded her she could only
+give a faint, sickly smile of recognition, and they, in deep reverence,
+stood without speaking, gazing on her wan features and the dripping
+garments which clung to her.
+
+“No, not to the inn, Loony,” said she, to a question from him. “The
+first cabin we meet will shelter us, and then--home!” There was
+something of intense sorrow in the thought that passed then through her
+mind, for her eyes suddenly filled up, and heavy tears rolled along her
+cheeks. “Have they got in yet?” said she, looking towards the sea.
+
+“Yes, miss; they're close alongside now. It's the revenue boat that went
+after us.”
+
+“Wirra, wirra! but that's bad news for her now,” muttered a boatman, in
+conversation with an old woman at his side.
+
+“What's the bad news, Patsey?” said Mary, overhearing him.
+
+But the man did not dare to answer; and though he looked around on every
+side, none would speak for him.
+
+“You used to be more frank with me,” said Mary, calmly. “Tell me what
+has happened.”
+
+Still not a word was uttered, a mournful silence brooded over the crowd,
+and each seemed to shun the task of breaking it.
+
+“You will make me fear worse than the reality, perhaps,” said she,
+tremulously. “Is the calamity near home? No. Is it then my uncle?” A
+low faint cry burst from her, and she dropped down on her knees; but
+scarcely had she joined her hands to pray, than she fell back, fainting,
+to the ground.
+
+They carried her, still insensible as she was, into a fisherman's cabin,
+till they went in search of a conveyance to take her to the cottage.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXII. LETTER FROM MASSINGBRED.
+
+“Martin Arms, Oughterard.
+
+“In spite of all your reasonings, all your cautions, and all your
+warnings, here I am once more, Harry, denizen of the little dreary
+parlor whence I first looked out at Dan Nelligan's shop something
+more than a year since. What changes of fortune has that brief space
+accomplished I what changes has it effected even in my own nature! I
+feel this in nothing more than in my altered relations with others. If
+the first evidence of amendment in a man be shame and sorrow for the
+past, I may probably be on the right road now, since I heartily grieve
+over the worthless, purposeless life I have led hitherto.
+
+“I am well aware that you would not accept the reason I gave you for
+coming here. You said that, as to taking leave of my constituents, a
+letter was the ordinary and the sufficient course. You also hinted that
+our intercourse had not been of that close and friendly nature which
+requires a personal farewell, and then you suggested that other and less
+defensible motives had probably their share in this step. Well, you
+are right, perfectly right; I wanted to see the spot which has so far
+exerted an immense influence over me; I wanted--if you will have the
+confession--to see _her_ too,--to see her in the humble station she
+belongs to, in the lowly garb of the steward's daughter. I was curious
+to ascertain what change her bearing would undergo in the change of
+position; would she conform to the lowlier condition at once and
+without struggle, or would her haughty nature chafe and fret against the
+obstacles of a small and mean existence? If you were right in guessing
+this, you are equally wrong in the motive you ascribe to me. Not,
+indeed, that you palpably express, but only hint at it; still I cannot
+endure even the shadow of such a surmise without a flat and full denial.
+Perhaps, after all, I have mistaken your meaning,--would it were so! I
+do indeed wish that you should not ascribe to me motives so unworthy
+and so mean. A revenge for her refusal of me! a reprisal for the proud
+rejection of my hand and fortune! No, my dear Harry, I feel, as I write
+the words, that they never were yours. You say, however, that I am
+curious to know if I should think her as lovable and attractive in the
+humble dress and humble station that pertain to her, as when I saw her
+moving more than equal amongst the proudest and haughtiest of Europe.
+To have any doubt on this score would be to distrust her sincerity of
+character. She must be what I have ever seen her, or she is an actress.
+Difference of condition, different associates, different duties will
+exact different discipline, but she herself must be the same, or she is
+a falsehood,--a deception.
+
+“And then you add, it is perhaps as well that I should 'submit to the
+rude test of a disenchantment.' Well, I accept the challenge, and I am
+here.
+
+“These thoughts of self would obtrude in the very beginning of a letter
+I had destined for other objects. You ask me for a narrative of my
+journey and its accidents, and you shall have it. On my way over here
+in the packet, I made acquaintance with an elderly man, who seemed
+thoroughly acquainted with all the circumstances of the Martins and
+their misfortunes. From him I ascertained that all Scanlan had told me
+was perfectly correct. The reversion of the estate has been sold for a
+sum incredibly small in proportion to its value, and in great part
+the proceeds of gambling transactions. Martin is, therefore, utterly,
+irretrievably ruined. Merl has taken every step with all the security
+of the best advice, and in a few months, weeks perhaps, will be declared
+owner of Cro' Martin. Even in the 'fast times' we live in, such rapid
+ruin as this stands alone! You tell me that of your own college and mess
+associates not more than one in five or six have survived the wreck
+of fortune the first few years of extravagance accomplish, and
+that Manheim, Brussels, and Munich can show the white-seamed,
+mock-smartened-up gentilities which once were the glories of Bond
+Street and the Park; but for poor Martin, I suspect, even these last
+sanctuaries do not remain,--as I hear it, he is totally gone.
+
+“From the very inn where I am staying Merls agents are issuing notices
+of all kinds to the tenants and 'others' to desist and refrain from
+cutting timber, quarrying marbles, and what not, on certain unspeakable
+localities, with threats in case of non-compliance. Great placards cover
+the walls of the town, headed 'Caution to all Tenants on the Estate
+of Cro' Martin.' The excitement in the neighborhood is intense,
+overwhelming. Whatever differences of political opinion existed between
+the Martins and the people of the borough, whatever jealousies grew out
+of disparity of station, seemed suddenly merged in sympathy for this
+great misfortune. They are, of course, ignorant of the cause of this
+sudden calamity, and ask each other how, when, and where such a fortune
+because engulfed.
+
+“But to proceed regularly. On my reaching Dublin, after a hurried visit
+to my father, I drove off to Mr. Repton's house. You may remember his
+name as that of the old lawyer, some of whose bar stories amused you
+so highly. I found him in a spacious mansion of an old neglected
+street,--Henrietta Street,--once the great aristocratic quarter of
+Ancient Dublin, and even to this day showing traces of real splendor.
+The old man received me in a room of immense proportions, furnished as
+it was when Flood was the proprietor. He was at luncheon when I entered;
+and for company had the very same stranger with whom I made acquaintance
+in the packet.
+
+“Repton started as we recognized each other, but at a sign or a word,
+I'm not certain which, from the other, merely said, 'My friend was just
+speaking of his having met you, Mr. Massingbred.' This somewhat informal
+presentation over, I joined them, and we fell a chatting over the story
+of Cro' Martin.
+
+“They were both eager to hear something about Merl, his character,
+pursuits, and position; and you would have been amazed to see how
+surprised they were at my account of a man whose type we are all so
+familiar with.
+
+“You would scarcely credit the unfeigned astonishment manifested by
+these two shrewd and crafty men at the sketch I gave them of our Hebrew
+friend. One thing is quite clear,--it was not the habit, some forty or
+fifty years ago, to admit the Merls of the world to terms of intimacy,
+far less of friendship.
+
+“'As I said, Repton,' broke in the stranger, sternly, 'it all comes of
+that degenerate tone which has crept in of late, making society like a
+tavern, where he who can pay his bill cannot be denied entrance. Such
+fellows as this Merl had no footing in our day. The man who associated
+with such would have forfeited his own place in the world.'
+
+“'Very true,' said Repton, 'though we borrowed their money we never
+bowed to them.'
+
+“'And we did wisely, sir,' retorted the other. 'The corruption of their
+manners was fifty times worse than all their usury! The gallant Hussar
+Captain, as we see here, never scrupled about admitting to his closest
+intimacy a fellow not fit company for his valet. Can't you perceive that
+when a man will descend to such baseness to obtain money, there is no
+measuring the depth he will go to when pressed to pay it?'
+
+“'I am intimate with Martin,' said I, interrupting, 'and I can honestly
+assure you that it was rather to an easy, careless, uncalculating
+disposition he owes his misfortunes, than to anything like a spendthrift
+habit.'
+
+“'Mere hair-splitting this, sir,' replied he, almost rudely. 'He who
+spends what is not his own, I have but one name for. It matters little
+in my estimation whether he extorts the supply by a bill or a bullet.'
+
+“I own to you, Harry, I burned to retort to a speech the tone and manner
+of which were both more offensive than the words; but the stranger's
+age, his venerable appearance, and something like deep and recent sorrow
+about him, restrained me, and I caught, by a look from Repton, that he
+was grateful for my forbearance.
+
+“'Come, sir,' said he, addressing me, 'you say you know Captain Martin;
+now let me ask you one question: Is there any one trait or feature of
+his character to which, if his present misfortunes were to pass
+away, you could attach a hope of amendment? Has not this life of
+bill-renewing, these eternal straits for cash--with all the humiliations
+that accompany them,--made him a mere creature of schemes and plots,--a
+usurer in spirit, though a pauper in fact?'
+
+“'When I say, sir, that you are addressing this demand to one whom
+Captain Martin deems his friend, you will see the impropriety you have
+fallen into.'
+
+“'My young friend is right,' broke in Repton. 'The Court rules against
+the question; nor would it be evidence even if answered.'
+
+“I was angry at this interference of Repton's. I wanted to reply to this
+man myself; but still, as I looked at his sorrow-struck features, and
+saw what I fancied the marks of a proud suffering spirit, I was well
+satisfied at not having given way to temper; still more so did I feel as
+he turned towards me, and, with a manner of ineffable gentleness, said,
+'I entreat you to pardon me, sir, for an outburst of which I am already
+ashamed. A rude life and some bitter experiences have made me hard
+of heart and coarse in speech; still, it is only in moments of
+forgetfulness that I cease to remember what indulgence he owes to others
+who has such need of forgiveness himself.'
+
+“I grasped his hand at once, and felt that his pressed mine like a
+friend's.
+
+“'You spoke of going down to the West,' said he, after a brief pause.
+'I start for that country to-night; you would do me a great favor should
+you accompany me.'
+
+“I acceded at once, and he went on. 'Repton was to have been of the
+party, but business delays him a few days in town.'
+
+“'I 'll join you before the end of the week,' said Repton; 'by that time
+Mr. Massingbred will have expended all his borough blandishments and be
+free to give us his society.'
+
+“Though the old lawyer now tried, and tried cleverly, to lead us away
+to lighter, pleasanter themes, the attempt was a failure; each felt, I
+suspect, some oppressive weight on his spirits that indisposed him to
+less serious talk; and again we came back to the Martins, the stranger
+evidently seeking to learn all he could of the disposition and temper of
+the young man.
+
+“'It is as I thought,' said he, at last. 'It is the weak, sickly tone
+of the day has brought all this corruption upon us! Once upon a time
+the vices and follies of young men took their rise in their several
+natures,--this one gambled, the other drank, and so on,--the mass,
+however, was wonderfully sound and healthy; the present school, however,
+is to ape a uniformity, so that each may show himself in the livery of
+his fellows, thus imbibing wickedness he has no taste for, and none be
+less depraved and heartless than those around him. Let the women but
+follow the fashion, and there 's an end of us, as the great people we
+boasted to be!'
+
+“I give you, so well as I can trust my memory, his words, Harry, but I
+cannot give you a certain sardonic bitterness,--a tone of mingled scorn
+and sorrow, such as I never before witnessed. He gave me the impression
+of being one who, originally frank, generous, and trustful, had, by
+intercourse with the world and commerce with mankind, grown to suspect
+every one and disbelieve in honesty, and yet could not bring his heart
+to acknowledge what his head had determined. In this wise, at least, I
+read his character from the opportunities I had of conversing with him
+on our journey. It was easy to see that he was a gentleman,--taking the
+word in the widest of its acceptations,--but from things that dropped
+from him, I could gather that his life had been that of an adventurer.
+He had been in the sea and land services of many of those new states
+of Southern America, had even risen to political importance in some of
+them; had possessed mines and vast tracts of territory one day, and
+the next saw himself 'without a piastre.' He had conducted operations
+against the Indians, and made treaties with them, and latterly had lived
+as the elected chief of a tribe in the west of the Rocky Mountains. But
+he knew civilized as well as savage life, had visited Spain in the rank
+of an envoy, and was familiar with all the great society of Rome, and
+the intrigues of its prince-bishops. The only theme, however, on which
+he really warmed was sport. The prairies brought out all his enthusiasm,
+and then he spoke like one carried away by glorious recollections of
+a time when, as he said himself, 'heart and hand and eye never failed
+him.'
+
+“When he spoke of family ties or home affections, it was in a spirit of
+almost mockery, which puzzled me. His reasoning was that the attachments
+we form are only emanations of our own selfishness. We love, simply to
+be loved again. Whereas, were we single-hearted, we should be satisfied
+to know that those dear to us were well and happy, and only seek to
+serve them without demonstration or display.
+
+“Am I wearying you, Harry, by dwelling on the traits of a man who, for
+the brief space I have known him, has made the most profound impression
+upon me? Even where I dissent--as is often the case--from his views,
+I have to own to myself that were I _he_, I should think and reason
+precisely as he does. I fancied at first that, like many men who had
+quitted civilized life for the rude ways of the 'bush,' he would have
+contrasted the man of refinement unfavorably with the savage, but he was
+too keen and acute for such a sweeping fallacy; he saw the good and evil
+in both, and sensibly remarked how independent of all education were
+the really strong characteristics of human nature. 'There is not a great
+quality of our first men,' said he, 'that I have not found to exist
+among the wild tribes of the Far West, nor is there an excellence
+of savage nature I have not witnessed amidst the polished and the
+pampered.'
+
+“From what I can collect, he is only here passingly; some family matter
+has brought him over to this country; but he is already impatient to be
+back to his old haunts and associates, and his home beside the Orinoco.
+He has even asked me to come and visit him there; and from all I can see
+I should be as likely to attain distinction among the Chaymas as in
+the House of Commons, and should find the soft turf of the Savannahs as
+pleasant as the Opposition benches. In fact, Harry, I have half
+promised to accept his invitation; and if he renew it with anything like
+earnestness, I am resolved to go.
+
+“I am just setting out for the Hendersons', and while the horses are
+being harnessed I have re-read your letter. Of course I have 'counted
+the cost,'--I have weighed the question to a pennyweight! I could
+already write down the list of those who will not know me at all, those
+who will know me a little, and the still fewer who will know my wife!
+Can you not see, my dear friend, that where one drags the anchor so
+easily, the mooring-ground was never good? The society to which you
+belong by such slender attachments gives no wound by separation from it.
+
+“My anxiety now is on a very different score: it is that she will still
+refuse me. The hope I cling to is that she will see in my persistence a
+proof of sincerity. I would not, if I could, bring any family influence
+to my aid, and yet, short of this, there is nothing I would not do to
+insure success.
+
+“I wish I had never re-opened your letter; that vein of sarcastic
+coolness which runs through it will never turn me from my purpose. You
+seem to forget, besides, that you are talking to a man of the world,
+just as hackneyed, just as 'used up' as yourself. I should like to see
+you assume this indolent dalliance before La Henderson! Take my word for
+it, Harry, you 'd be safer with the impertinence amongst some of your
+duchesses in Pall Mall. You say that great beauty in a woman, like
+genius in a man, is a kind of brevet nobility, and yet you add that
+the envy of the world will never weary of putting the possessor 'on his
+title.' How gladly would I accept this challenge! Ay, Harry, I tell you,
+in all defiance, that your proudest could not vie with her!
+
+“If I wanted a proof of the vassalage of the social state we live in, I
+have it before me in the fact that a man like yourself, wellborn, young,
+rich, and high-hearted, should place the judgments and prejudices of
+half a dozen old tabbies of either sex above all the promptings of a
+noble ambition--all the sentiments of a generous devotion. Your
+starling cry of 'the Steward's daughter,' then, does not deter, it only
+determines the purpose
+
+“Of yours faithfully,
+
+“Jack Massingbred.”
+
+
+“You 'll see by the papers that I have accepted the Chiltern Hundreds.
+This is the first step.--now for the second!”
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXIII. A DINNER AT “THE LODGE”
+
+While the “Morning Post” of a certain day, some twenty years ago,
+was chronicling the illustrious guests who partook of his Majesty's
+hospitalities at Windsor, the “Dublin Evening Mail,” under the less
+pretentious heading of “Viceregal Court,” gave a list of those who had
+dined with his Excellency at the Lodge.
+
+There was not anything very striking or very new in the announcement.
+Our _dramatis personæ,_ in this wise, are limited; and after the
+accustomed names of the Lord Chancellor and Mrs. Dobbs, the Master of
+the Rolls and Mrs. Wiggins, Colonel Somebody of the 105th, Sir Felix
+and Miss Slasher, you invariably find the catalogue close with an
+un-der-secretary, a king-at-arms, and the inevitable Captain Lawrence
+Belcour, the aide-de-camp in waiting!--these latter recorded somewhat in
+the same spirit that the manager of a provincial theatre swells the roll
+of his company, by the names of the machinist, the scene-painter, and
+the leader of the band! We have no peculiar concern, however, with this
+fact, save that on the day in question our old friend Joseph Nelligan
+figured as a vice-regal guest. It was the first time he had been so
+honored, and, although not of a stamp to attach any great prize to the
+distinction, he was well aware that the recognition was intended as an
+honor; the more, when an aide-de-camp signified to him that his place at
+table was on one side of his Excellency.
+
+When this veracious history first displayed young Nelligan at a
+dinner-party, his manner was shy and constrained; his secluded,
+student-like habits had given him none of that hardihood so essential in
+society. If he knew little of passing topics, he knew less of the tone
+men used in discussing them; and now, although more conversant with
+the world and its ways, daily brought into contact with the business of
+life, his social manner remained pretty nearly the same cold, awkward,
+and diffident thing it had been at first. Enlist him in a great subject,
+or call upon him on a great occasion, and he could rise above it; place
+him in a position to escape notice, and you never heard more of him.
+
+The dinner company on this day contained nothing very formidable, either
+on the score of station or ability,--a few bar celebrities with their
+wives, an eccentric dean with a daughter, a garrison colonel or two,
+three country squires, and a doctor from Merrion Square. It was that
+interregnal period between the time when the castle parties included
+the first gentry of the land, and that later era when the priest and
+the agitator became the favored guests of vice-royalty. It is scarce
+necessary to say it was, as regards agreeability, inferior to either.
+There was not the courtly urbanity and polished pleasantry of a very
+accomplished class; nor was there the shrewd and coarse but racy
+intelligence of Mr. O'Connell's followers.
+
+The Marquis of Reckington had come over to Ireland to “inaugurate,” as
+the newspapers called it, a new policy; that is, he was to give to the
+working of the relief bill an extension and a significance which few
+either of its supporters or opposers in Parliament ever contemplated.
+The inequality of the Romanist before the law he might have borne;
+social depreciation was a heavier evil, and one quite intolerable. Now,
+as the change to the new system required considerable tact and address,
+they intrusted the task to a most accomplished and well-bred gentleman;
+and were Ireland only to be won by dinner-parties, Lord Reckington must
+have been its victor.
+
+To very high rank and great personal advantages he united a manner of
+the most perfect kind. Dignified enough always to mark his station and
+his own consciousness of it, it was cordial without effort, frank
+and easy without display. If he could speak with all the weight of
+authority, he knew how to listen with actual deference; and there
+was that amount of change and “play” in his demeanor that made his
+companion, whoever for the moment he might be, believe that his views
+and arguments had made a deep impression on the Viceroy. To those
+unacquainted with such men, and the school to which they belong, there
+might have appeared something unreal, almost dramatic, in the elegant
+gracefulness of his bow, the gentle affability of his smile, the
+undeviating courtesy which he bestowed on all around him; but they were
+all of the man himself,--his very instincts,--his nature.
+
+It had apparently been amongst his Excellency's instructions from his
+government to seek out such rising men of the Roman Catholic party as
+might be elevated and promoted on the just claims of their individual
+merits,--men, in fact, whose conduct and bearing would be certain to
+justify their selection for high office. It could not be supposed that
+a party long proscribed, long estranged from all participation in power,
+could be rich in such qualifications. At the bar, the ablest men usually
+threw themselves into the career of politics, and of course by strong
+partisanship more or less prejudiced their claims to office. It was
+rare indeed to find one who, with the highest order of abilities, was
+satisfied to follow a profession whose best rewards were denied him.
+Such was Joseph Nelligan when he was first “called,” and such he
+continued to the very hour we now see him. Great as had been his
+college successes, his triumphs at the bar overtopped them all. They who
+remembered his shy and reserved manner wondered whence he came by his
+dignity; they who knew his youth could not imagine how he came by his
+“law.”
+
+Mr. M'Casky, the castle law-adviser, an old recruiting-serjeant of
+capacities, who had “tipped the shilling” to men of every party, had
+whispered his name to the Under-Secretary, who had again repeated it to
+the Viceroy. He was, as M'Casky said, “the man they wanted, with talent
+enough to confront the best of the opposite party, and wealthy enough to
+want nothing that can figure in a budget.” Hence was he, then, there a
+favored guest, and seated on his Excellency's left hand.
+
+For the magic influence of that manner which we have mentioned as
+pertaining to the Viceroy, we ask for no better evidence than the sense
+of perfect ease which Joe Nelligan now enjoyed. The _suave_ dignity
+of the Marquis was blended with a something like personal regard, a
+mysterious intimation that seemed to say, “This is the sort of man I
+have long been looking for; how gratifying that I should have found him
+at last!” They concurred in so many points, too, not merely in opinions,
+but actually in the very expressions by which they characterized them;
+and when at last his Excellency, having occasion to quote something he
+had said, called him “Nelligan,” the spell was complete.
+
+Oh dear! when we torture our brains to legislate for apothecaries,
+endeavoring in some way or other to restrict the sale of those subtle
+ingredients on every grain or drop of which a human life may hang,
+why do we never think of those far more subtle elements of which great
+people are the dispensers,--flatteries more soothing than chloroform,
+smiles more lulling than poppy-juice! Imagine poor Nelligan under a
+course of this treatment, dear reader; fancy the delicious poison as
+it insinuates itself through his veins, and if you have ever been so
+drugged yourself, picture to your mind all the enjoyment he experienced.
+
+By one of those adroit turns your social magician is master of, the
+Viceroy had drawn the conversation towards Nelligan's county and his
+native town.
+
+“I was to have paid a visit to poor Martin there,” said he, “and I
+certainly should have looked in upon _you_.”
+
+Nelligan's cheek was in a flame; pride and shame were both there,
+warring for the mastery.
+
+“Poor fellow!” said his Excellency, who saw the necessity of a
+diversion, “I fear that he has left that immense estate greatly
+embarrassed. Some one mentioned to me, the other day, that the heir will
+not succeed to even a fourth of the old property.”
+
+“I have heard even worse, my Lord,” said Nelligan. “There is a rumor
+that he is left without a shilling.”
+
+“How very shocking! They are connections of my own!” said the Viceroy;
+as though what he said made the misery attain its climax.
+
+“I am aware, my Lord, that Lady Dorothea is related to your Excellency,
+and I am surprised you have not heard the stories I allude to.”
+
+“But perhaps I am incorrect,” said the Marquis. “It may be that I _have_
+heard them; so many things pass through one's ears every day. But here
+is Colonel Mas-singbred; he 's sure to know it. Massingbred, we want
+some news of the Martins--the Martins of--what is it called?”
+
+“Cro' Martin, my Lord,” said Nelligan, reddening.
+
+“I hold the very latest news of that county in my hand, my Lord,”
+ replied the Secretary. “It is an express from my son, who writes from
+Oughterard.”
+
+Nelligan stood, scarcely breathing, with impatience to hear the tidings.
+
+Colonel Massingbred ran his eyes over the first page of the letter,
+murmuring to himself the words; then turning over, he said: “Yes, here
+it is,--'While I write this, the whole town is in a state of intense
+excitement; the magistrates have sent in for an increased force of
+police, and even soldiery, to repress some very serious disturbances on
+the Martin property. It would appear that Merl--the man who assumes
+to claim the property, as having purchased the reversion from young
+Martin--was set upon by a large mob, and pursued, himself and his
+friends, for several miles across the country. They escaped with their
+lives, but have arrived here in a lamentable plight. There is really no
+understanding these people. It was but the other day, and there was no
+surer road to their favor than to abuse and vilify these same Martins,
+and now they are quite ready to murder any one who aspires to take
+their place. If one was to credit the stories afloat, they have already
+wreaked a fatal vengeance on some fellows employed by Merl to serve
+notices on the tenantry; but I believe that the outrages have really
+gone no further than such maltreatment as Irishmen like to give, and are
+accustomed to take.'”
+
+Here his Excellency laughed heartily, and Joe Nelligan looked grave.
+
+Massingbred read on: “'Without being myself a witness to it, I never
+could have credited the almost feudal attachment of these people to
+an “Old House.” The Radical party in the borough are, for the moment,
+proscribed, and dare not show themselves in the streets; and even
+Magennis, who so lately figured as an enemy to the Martins, passed
+through the town this morning with his wife, with a great banner flying
+over his jaunting-car, inscribed “The Martins for Ever!” This burst of
+sentiment on his part, I ought to mention, was owing to a most devoted
+piece of heroism performed by Miss Martin, who sought out the lost one
+and brought her safely back, through a night of such storm and hurricane
+as few ever remember. Such an act, amidst such a people, is sure of its
+reward. The peasantry would, to a man, lay down their lives for her; and
+coming critically, as the incident did, just when a new proprietor
+was about to enforce his claim, you can fancy the added bitterness
+it imparted to their spirit of resistance. I sincerely trust that the
+magistrates will not accede to the demand for an increased force. A
+terrible collision is sure to be the result, and I know enough of
+these people to be aware of what can be done by a little diplomacy,
+particularly when the right negotiator is employed. I mean, therefore,
+to go over and speak to Mr. Nelligan, who is the only man of brains
+amongst the magistrates here.'”
+
+“A relative, I presume,” said his Excellency.
+
+“My father, my Lord,” replied Joe, blushing.
+
+“Oh! here is the result of his interview,” said Massing-bred, turning to
+the foot of the page. “'Nelligan quite agreed in the view I had taken,
+and said the people would assuredly disarm and perhaps destroy any force
+we could send against them. He is greatly puzzled what course to adopt;
+and when I suggested the propriety of invoking Miss Martin's aid, told
+me that this is out of the question, since she is on a sick-bed. While
+we were speaking, a Dublin physician passed through on his way to visit
+her. This really does add to the complication, for she is, perhaps, the
+only one who could exert a great influence over the excited populace. In
+any other country it might read strangely, that it was to a young lady
+men should have recourse in a moment of such peril; but this is like no
+other country, the people like no other people, the young lady herself,
+perhaps, like no other young lady!'”
+
+By a scarcely perceptible movement of his head, and a very slight change
+of voice, Colonel Massingbred intimated to the Viceroy that there was
+something for his private ear, and Lord Reckington stepped back to hear
+it. Nelligan, too deeply occupied in his own thoughts to remark the
+circumstance, stood in the same place, silent and motionless.
+
+“It is to this passage,” whispered the Secretary, “I want to direct your
+Excellency's attention: 'All that I see here,' my son writes,--'all that
+I see here is a type of what is going on, at large, over the island. Old
+families uprooted, old ties severed; the people, with no other instinct
+than lawlessness, hesitating which side to take. Their old leaders, only
+bent upon the political, have forgotten the social struggle, and
+thus the masses are left without guidance or direction. It is my firm
+conviction that the Church of Rome will seize the happy moment to usurp
+an authority thus unclaimed, and the priest step in between the landlord
+and the demagogue; and it is equally my belief that you can only retard,
+not prevent, this consummation. If you should be of _my_ opinion, and
+be able to induce his Excellency to think with us, act promptly and
+decisively. Enlist the Roman Catholic laity in your cause before you
+be driven to the harder compact of having to deal with the clergy. And
+first of all, make--for fortunately you have the vacancy,--make young
+Nelligan your solicitor-general.'”
+
+The Viceroy gave a slight start, and smiled. He had not, as yet,
+accustomed his mind to such bold exercise of his patronage. He lived,
+however, to get over this sensation.
+
+“My son,” resumed Massingbred, “argues this at some length. If you
+permit, I 'll leave the letter in your Excellency's hands. In fact, I
+read it very hurriedly, and came over here the moment I glanced my eyes
+over this passage.”
+
+His Excellency took the letter, and turned to address a word to Joe
+Nelligan, but he had left the spot.
+
+“Belcour,” said the Viceroy, “tell Mr. Nelligan I wish to speak to
+him. I shall be in the small drawing-room. I 'll talk with him alone.
+Massingbred, be ready to come when I shall send for you.”
+
+The Viceroy sat alone by the fire, pondering over all he had heard.
+There was, indeed, that to ponder over, even in the brief, vague
+description of the writer. “The difficulties of Ireland,” as it was the
+fashion of the day to call them, were not such as government commissions
+discover, or blue books describe; they lay deeper than the legislative
+lead-line ever reaches,--many a fathom down below statutes and Acts
+of Parliament. They were in the instincts, the natures, the blood of a
+people who had never acknowledged themselves a conquered nation. Perhaps
+his Excellency lost himself in speculations, mazy and confused enough to
+addle deeper heads. Perhaps he was puzzled to think how he could bring
+the Cabinet to see these things, or the importance that pertained to
+them; who knows? At all events, time glided on, and still he was alone.
+At length the aide-de-camp appeared, and with an air of some confusion,
+said,--“It would appear, my Lord, that Mr. Nelligan has gone away.”
+
+“Why, he never said good-night; he did n't take leave of me!” said the
+Viceroy, smiling.
+
+The aide-de-camp slightly elevated his brows, as though to imply his
+sense of what it might not have become him to characterize in words.
+
+“Very strange, indeed!” repeated his Excellency; “is n't it, Belcour?”
+
+“Very strange, indeed, your Excellency,” said the other, bowing.
+
+“There could have been no disrespect in it,” said his Lordship,
+good-humoredly; “of _that_ I'm quite certain. Send Colonel Massingbred
+here.”
+
+“He's gone off, Massingbred,” said the Viceroy, as the other appeared.
+
+“So I have just learned, my Lord. I conclude he was not aware--that he
+was unacquainted with--”
+
+“Oh, of course, Massingbred,” broke in the Viceroy, laughing, “the fault
+is all with my predecessors in office; they never invited these men
+as they ought to have done. Have you sounded M'Casky as to the
+appointment?”
+
+“Yes, my Lord; he thinks 'we might do worse.'”
+
+“A qualified approval, certainly. Perhaps he meant we might select
+himself!”
+
+“I rather opine, my Lord, that he regards Nelligan's promotion as likely
+to give offence to Mr. O'Connell, unless that he be himself consulted
+upon it.”
+
+“Then comes the question, Who is it governs this country, Colonel
+Massingbred?” said the Marquis; and for the first time a flash of
+angry meaning darkened his cheeks. “If I be here,”--he stopped and
+hesitated,--“if you and I be here only to ratify appointments made by
+irresponsible individuals,--if we hold the reins of power only to
+be told where we 're to drive to,--I must own the office is not very
+dignified, nor am I patient enough to think it endurable.”
+
+“M'Casky only suggested that it might be advisable to see O'Connell
+on the subject, not, as it were, to pass him over in conferring the
+appointment.”
+
+“I cannot at all concur in this view, Massingbred,” said the Marquis,
+proudly; “there could be no such humiliation in the world as a patronage
+administered in this wise. Write to Nelligan; write to him to-night. Say
+that his abrupt departure alone prevented my making to him personally
+the offer of the solicitorship; add that you have my directions to place
+the office in his hands, and express a strong wish, on your own part,
+that he may not decline it.”
+
+Massingbred bowed in acquiescence, and after a pause his Excellency went
+on:--
+
+“There would be no objection to your adding something to the effect that
+my selection of him was prompted by motives in which party has no share;
+that his acknowledged eminence at the bar,--a character to which even
+political opponents bear honorable testimony,--in fact, Massingbred,”
+ added he, impatiently, “if the appointment should come to be questioned
+in the House, let us have it on record that we made it solely on motives
+directed to the public service. You understand me?”
+
+“I think so, my Lord,” said Massingbred, and withdrew.
+
+If it were not that other cares and other interests call us away,
+we would gladly linger a little longer to speculate on the Viceroy's
+thoughts as he reseated himself by the fire. His brow was overcast and
+his features clouded. Was it that he felt he had entered the lists, and
+thrown down the glove to a strong and resolute opponent? Had he before
+him a vista of the terrible conflict between expediency and honor that
+was soon to be his fate? Had he his doubts as to the support his own
+Cabinet would afford him? Was his pride the ruling sentiment of the
+moment, or did there enter into his calculations the subtle hope of all
+the eager expectancy this appointment would create, all the disposable
+venality it would lay at his discretion? Who can answer these questions?
+who solve these doubts? Is it not very possible that his mind wandered
+amidst them all? Is it not more than likely that they passed in review
+before him? for when he rejoined his company his manner was more absent,
+his courtesy less easy than usual.
+
+At length Mr. M'Casky came forward to say goodnight.
+
+“Colonel Massingbred has told you of those disturbances in the West, has
+he not?” asked the Viceroy.
+
+“Yes, my Lord,” replied the other.
+
+“And what opinion--what advice did you give?”
+
+“To let matters alone, my Lord; to be always a little behind time,
+particularly in sending a force. 'Never despatch the police to quell
+a riot,' said John Toler, 'unless one of the factions be completely
+beaten, otherwise you 'll have them both on your back;' and I assure
+your Excellency, Ireland has been very successfully governed under that
+maxim for years past.”
+
+“Thank you, M'Casky; thank you for the advice,” said his Excellency,
+laughing, and wished him good-night.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXIV. AN HONORED GUEST
+
+It was a time of unusual stir and bustle at the Martin Arms; the house
+was crammed with company. Messengers--some mounted, others on foot--came
+and went at every moment; horses stood ready saddled and harnessed in
+the stables, in waiting for any emergency; in fact, there was a degree
+of movement and animation only second to that of a contested election.
+In the midst of this confusion a chaise with four smoking posters drew
+up at the door, and a sharp, clear voice called out,--“Morrissy, are my
+rooms ready?”
+
+“No, indeed, Mr. Repton,” stammered out the abashed landlord; “the house
+is full; there's not a spot in it to put a child in.”
+
+“You got my letter, I suppose?” said Repton, angrily.
+
+“I did, sir, but it was too late; the whole house was engaged by
+Mr. Scanlan, and the same evening the company arrived in two
+coaches-and-four.”
+
+“And who is the precious company you speak of?”
+
+“Mr. Merl, sir,” said the other, dropping his voice to a whisper, “the
+new owner of Cro' Martin; he's here, with two or three great lawyers and
+one or two of his friends. They came down to serve the notices and give
+warning--”
+
+“Well, what is to be done? where can I be accommodated?” broke in
+Repton, hastily. “Isn't Mr. Massing-bred in the house?”
+
+“No, sir, he had to move out, too; but, sure enough, he left a bit of a
+note for you in the bar.” And he hastened off at once to fetch it.
+
+Repton broke open the seal impatiently, and read:--
+
+“My dear Mr. Repton,--I regret that you 'll find the inn full on your
+arrival; they turned me out yesterday to make room for Mr. Merl and his
+followers. Happily, Mr. Nelligan heard of my destitution, and offered me
+a quarter at his house. He also desires me to say that he will deem it
+a very great favor if you will accept the shelter of his roof, and in
+hopeful anticipation of your consenting, he will wait dinner for your
+arrival. From my own knowledge, I can safely assure you that the offer
+is made in a spirit of true hospitality, and I sincerely wish that you
+may accept it.
+
+“Yours very faithfully,
+
+“J. Massingbred.”
+
+
+“Where does Mr. Nelligan live?” asked Repton, as he refolded the letter.
+
+“Just across the street, sir. There it is.”
+
+“Set me down there, then,” said Repton. And the next moment he was at
+Nelligan's door.
+
+“This is a very great honor, sir,” said old Dan, as he appeared in a
+suit of decorous black. “It is, indeed, a proud day that gives me the
+pleasure of seeing you here.”
+
+“My dear sir, if you had no other distinction than being the father of
+Joseph Nelligan, the honor and the pride lie all in the opposite scale.
+I am sincerely glad to be your guest, and to know you where every true
+Irishman is seen to the greatest advantage,--at the head of his own
+board.”
+
+While Nelligan conducted his guest to his room, he mentioned that
+Massingbred had ridden over to Cro' Martin early in the morning, but
+would be certainly back for dinner.
+
+“And what 's the news of Miss Martin? Is she better?”
+
+“They say not, sir. The last accounts are far from favorable.”
+
+“Sir Henry Laurie saw her, did n't he?”
+
+“Yes, sir; he passed all Sunday here, and only returned to town
+yesterday. He spoke doubtfully,--I might even say, gloomily. He said,
+however, that we cannot know anything for certain before Friday or,
+perhaps, Saturday.”
+
+“It is fever, then?”
+
+“Yes, he told my wife, the worst character of typhus.”
+
+“Brought on, as I've been told, by exposure to wet and cold on that
+night at sea. Is n't that the case?”
+
+“I believe so. Mrs. Nelligan went over the next morning to the cottage.
+She had heard of poor Mr. Martin's death, and thought she might be
+of some use to Miss Mary; but when she arrived, it was to find her in
+fever, talking wildly, and insisting that she must be up and away to
+Kyle-a-Noe to look after a poor sick family there.”
+
+“Has Mrs. Nelligan seen her since that?”
+
+“She never left her,--never quitted her. She relieves Henderson's
+daughter in watching beside her bed; for the old housekeeper is quite
+too infirm to bear the fatigue.”
+
+“What a sad change has come over this little spot, and in so brief
+a space too! It seems just like yesterday that I was a guest at Cro'
+Martin,--poor Martin himself so happy and light-hearted; his dear girl,
+as he called her, full of life and spirits. Your son was there the night
+I speak of. I remember it well, for the madcap girls would make a fool
+of me, and insisted on my singing them a song; and I shall not readily
+forget the shame my compliance inflicted on my learned brother's face.”
+
+“Joe told me of it afterwards.”
+
+“Ah, he told you, did he? He doubtless remarked with asperity on the
+little sense of my own dignity I possessed?”
+
+“On the contrary, sir, he said, 'Great as are Mr. Rep-ton's gifts, and
+brilliant as are his acquirements, I envy him more the happy buoyancy of
+his nature than all his other qualities.'”
+
+“He's a fine fellow, and it was a generous speech; not but I will be
+vain enough to say he was right,--ay, sir, perfectly right. Of all the
+blessings that pertain to temperament, there is not one to compare with
+the spirit that renews in an old man the racy enjoyment of youth, keeps
+his heart fresh and his mind hopeful. With these, age brings no terrors.
+I shall be seventy-five, sir, if I live to the second of next month, and
+I have not lived long enough to dull the enjoyment life affords me, nor
+diminish the pleasure my heart derives upon hearing of a noble action or
+a generous sentiment.”
+
+Nelligan gazed at the speaker in mingled astonishment and admiration.
+Somehow, it was not altogether the man he had expected; but he was far
+from being disappointed at the difference. The Valentine Repton of his
+imagination was a crafty pleader, a subtle cross-examiner, an ingenious
+flatterer of juries; but he was not a man whose nature was assailable by
+anything “not found in the books.”
+
+Now, though Nelligan was himself essentially a worldly man, he was
+touched by these traits of one whom he had regarded as a hardened old
+lawyer, distrustful and suspicious.
+
+“Ay, sir,” said Repton, as, leaning on the other's arm, he entered the
+drawing-room, “a wiser man than either of us has left it on record, that
+after a long life and much experience of the world, he met far more of
+good and noble qualities in mankind than of their opposite. Take my word
+for it, whenever we are inclined to the contrary opinion, the fault lies
+with ourselves.”
+
+While they sat awaiting Massingbred's return, a servant entered with a
+note, which Nelligan, having read, handed over to Repton. It was very
+brief, and ran thus:--
+
+“My dear Mr. Nelligan,--Forgive my not appearing at dinner, and make my
+excuses to Mr. Repton, if he be with you, for I have just fallen in
+with Magennis, who insists on carrying me off to Barnagheela. You can
+understand, I 'm sure, that there are reasons why I could not well
+decline this invitation. Meanwhile, till to-morrow, at breakfast,
+
+“I am yours,
+
+“Jack Massingbred.”
+
+
+If there was a little constraint on Nelligan's part at finding himself
+alone to do the honors to his distinguished guest, the feeling soon wore
+away, and a frank, hearty confidence was soon established between these
+two men, who up to the present moment had been following very different
+roads in life. Apart from a lurking soreness, the remnants of long-past
+bitterness, Nelligan's political opinions were fair and moderate, and
+agreed with Repton's now to a great extent. His views as to the people,
+their habits and their natures, were also strikingly just and true. He
+was not over-hopeful, nor was he despondent; too acute an observer to
+refer their faults to any single source, he regarded their complex,
+intricate characters as the consequence of many causes, the issue of
+many struggles. There was about all he said the calm judgment of a man
+desirous of truth; and yet, when he came to speak of the higher classes,
+the great country gentry, he displayed prejudices and mistakes
+quite incredible in one of his discernment. The old grudge of social
+disqualification had eaten deep into his heart, and, as Repton saw, it
+would take at least two generations of men, well-to-do and successful,
+to eradicate the sentiment.
+
+Nelligan was quick enough to see that these opinions of his were not
+shared by his guest, and said, “I cannot expect, Mr. Repton, that you
+will join me in these views; you have seen these people always as an
+equal, if not their superior; they met _you_ with their best faces and
+sweetest flatteries. Not so with us. They draw a line, as though to say,
+go on: make your fortunes; purchase estates; educate your children;
+send them to the universities with our own; teach them our ways, our
+instincts, our manners, and yet, at the end of all, you shall remain
+exactly where you began. You shall never be 'of us.'”
+
+“I am happy to say that I disagree with you,” said Repton; “I am a much
+older man than you, and I can draw, therefore, on a longer experience.
+Now the change that I myself have seen come over the tone and temper of
+the world since I was a boy is far more marvellous to me than all the
+new-fangled discoveries around us in steam and electricity. Why, sir,
+the man who now addresses you, born of an ancient stock, as good blood
+as any untitled gentleman of the land, was treated once as Jack Cade
+might be in a London drawing-room. The repute of liberal notions or
+politics at that day stamped you as a democrat and atheist If you sided
+with a popular measure, you were deemed capable of all the crimes of a
+'Danton.'
+
+“Do I not remember it!--Ay, as a student, young, ardent, and
+high-hearted, when I was summoned before the visitors of the university,
+and sternly asked by the dark-browed Lord Chancellor if I belonged to
+a society called the 'Friends of Ireland,' and on my acknowledging the
+fact, without inquiry, without examination, deprived of my scholarship,
+and sent back to my chambers, admonished to be more cautious, and
+menaced with expulsion. I had very little to live on in those days;
+my family had suffered great losses in fortune, and I disliked to be a
+burden to them. I took pupils, therefore, to assist me in my support.
+The Vice-Provost stepped in, however, and interdicted this. 'Young men,'
+he said, 'ran a greater chance of coming out of my hands followers of
+Paine than disciples of Newton.' I starved on till I was called to the
+bar. There fresh insults and mortifications met me. My name on a brief
+seemed a signal for a field-day against Jacobinism and infidelity. The
+very bench forgot its dignity in its zeal. I remember well one day,
+when, stung and maddened by these outrages, I so far forgot myself as
+to reply, and the Court of King's Bench was closed against me for
+twelve long years,--ay, till I came back to it as the first man in my
+profession. It was a trumpery cause,--I forget what; a suit about some
+petty bill of exchange. I disputed the evidence, and sought to show its
+invalidity. The Chief Justice stopped me, and said, 'The Court is aware
+of the point on which you rely; we have known evidence of this nature
+admitted in cases of trial for treason,--cases with which Mr. Repton, we
+know, is very familiar. I stopped; my blood boiled with indignation,
+my temples throbbed to bursting, to be thus singled out amongst my
+brethren--before the public--as a mark of scorn and reprobation. 'It is
+true, my Lord,' said I, with a slow, measured utterance, 'I am familiar
+with such cases. Who is there in this unhappy land that is not? I am
+aware, too, that if I stood in that dock arraigned on such a charge,
+your Lordship would rule that this evidence was admissible; you would
+charge against me, sentence, and hang me; but the present is an action
+for eleven pounds ten, and, therefore, I trust to your Lordship's lenity
+and mercy to reject it.'
+
+“That reply, sir, cost me twelve years of exile from the court wherein I
+uttered it. Those were times when the brow-beating judge could crush
+the bar; nor were the jury always safe in the sanctuary of the jury-box.
+Now, such abuses are no longer in existence; and if we have made no
+other stride in progress, even that is considerable.”
+
+“In all that regards the law and its administration, I am sure you are
+correct, sir,” said Nelligan, submissively.
+
+“At the period I speak of,” resumed Repton, who now was only following
+out his own thoughts and reminiscences, “the judges were little else
+than prefects, administering the country through the channel of the
+penal code, and the jury a set of vulgar partisans, who wielded the
+power of a verdict with all the caprice of a faction; and as to their
+ignorance, why, sir, Crookshank, who afterwards sat on the bench, used
+to tell of a trial for murder at Kells, where the 'murdered man' was two
+hours under cross-examination on the table! Yes, but that is not all;
+the jury retired to deliberate, and came out at length with a verdict of
+'manslaughter,' as the prisoner was 'a bad fellow, and had once stolen a
+saddle from the foreman.' You talk of law and civilization; why, I tell
+you, sir, that the barbaric code of the red man is a higher agent
+of enlightenment than the boasted institutions of England, when thus
+perverted and degraded. No, no, Mr. Nelligan, it may be a fine theme
+for declamation, there may be grand descriptive capabilities about the
+Ireland of sixty or seventy years ago, but be assured, it was a social
+chaos of the worst kind; and as a maxim, sir, remember, that the
+inhabitants of a country are never so much to be pitied as when the
+aspect of their social condition is picturesque!”
+
+Repton fell into a musing fit when he had finished these observations,
+and Nelligan felt too much deference for his guest to disturb him,
+and they sat thus silent for some time, when the old lawyer suddenly
+arousing himself, said,--“What's all this I hear about disturbances, and
+attacks on the police, down here?”
+
+“There's nothing political in it,” rejoined Nelligan. “It was resistance
+offered by the people to the service of certain notices on the part of
+this London Jew--Merl, I think they call him.”
+
+“Yes, that's the name,” quickly responded Repton. “You are aware of the
+circumstances under which he claims the estate?”
+
+“I had it from Brierley, who was told by Scanlan, that he purchased, or
+rather won at play, the entire and sole reversion.”
+
+Repton nodded.
+
+“And such is a legal compact, I presume?” said Nelligan.
+
+“If the immoral obligation be well concealed in the negotiation, I don't
+see how it is to be broken. The law, sir,” added he, solemnly, “never
+undertakes the charge of fools till a commission be taken out in their
+behalf! This young fellow's pleasure it was to squander his succession
+to a princely estate, and he chanced to meet with one who could
+appreciate his intentions.”
+
+“Massingbred told me, however, that some arrangement, some compromise
+was in contemplation; that Merl, knowing that to enforce his claim would
+subject him to a trial and all its disclosures, had shown a disposition
+to treat; in fact, Massingbred has already had an interview with him,
+and but for Scanlan, who desires to push matters to extremity, the
+affair might possibly be accommodated.”
+
+“The Jew possibly sees, too, that an Irish succession is not a bloodless
+triumph. He has been frightened, I have no doubt.”
+
+“I believe so; they say he took to his bed the day he got back here, and
+has never quitted it since. The people hunted them for four miles across
+the country, and as Merl couldn't leap his horse over the walls, they
+were several times nearly caught by the delay in making gaps for him.”
+
+“I'd have given fifty pounds to be in at it,” broke out Repton.
+Then suddenly remembering that the aspiration did not sound as very
+dignified, he hemmed and corrected himself, saying, “It must, indeed,
+have been a strange spectacle!”
+
+“They started at Kyle's Wood, and ran them over the low grounds beside
+Kelly's Mills, and then doubling, brought them along the foot of
+Barnagheela Mountain, where, it seems, Magennis joined the chase; he was
+fast closing with them when his gun burst, and rather damaged his hand.”
+
+“He fired, then?”
+
+[Illustration: 368]
+
+“Yes, he put a heavy charge of slugs into Merl's horse as he was getting
+through the mill-race, and the beast flung up and threw his rider into
+the stream. Scanlan dismounted and gathered him up, discharging his
+pistol at some country fellow who was rushing forward; they say the man
+has lost an eye. They got off, however, and, gaining the shelter of the
+Cro' Martin wood, they managed to escape at last, and reached this
+about six o'clock, their clothes in tatters, their horses lamed, and
+themselves lamentable objects of fatigue and exhaustion. Since that,
+no one but the doctor has seen Merl, and Scanlan only goes out with an
+escort of police.”
+
+“All this sounds very like 'sixty years ago,'” said Repton, laughing.
+
+“I'm afraid it does, and I half dread what the English newspapers may
+say under the heading of 'Galway Barbarities.'”
+
+“By Jove! I must say I like it; that is,” said Repton, hesitating and
+confused, “I can see some palliation for the people in such an outburst
+of generous but misdirected feeling. The old name has still its
+spell for their hearts; and even superstitions, sir, are better than
+incredulity!”
+
+“But of what avail is all this? The law must and will be vindicated. It
+may cost some lives, on the road, but Mr. Merl must reach his journey's
+end, at last.”
+
+“He may deem the sport, as I have known some men do tiger-hunting, not
+worth the danger,” said Repton. “You and I, Mr. Nelligan, acclimated, as
+I may say, to such incidents, would probably not decline the title to
+an estate, whose first step in possession should be enforced by the
+blunderbuss; but make the scene Africa, and say what extent of territory
+would you accept of, on the compact of enforcing your claim against
+the natives? Now, for all the purposes of argument, to this cockney's
+appreciation, these countrymen of ours are Africans.”
+
+“I can well understand his terror,” said Nelligan, thoughtfully. “I 'm
+sure the yell that followed him through the gap of Kyle-a-Noe will ring
+in his heart for many a day. It was there the pursuit was hottest. As
+they came out, a stranger, who had been here during the winter,--a Mr.
+Barry--”
+
+“What of _him?_ What did _he_ do?” broke in Repton, with great
+eagerness.
+
+“He stood upon an old wall, and hurrahed the people on, calling out,
+'Five gold guineas to the man who will hurl that fellow into the lake.'”
+
+“He said that?” cried Repton.
+
+“Yes, and waved his hat in encouragement to the mob! This was deposed in
+evidence before the bench; and Scanlan's affidavit went on to say, that
+when the temper of the people seemed to relent, and the ardor of
+their pursuit to relax, this man's presence invariably rallied all the
+energies of mischief, and excited the wildest passions of the populace.”
+
+“Who or what is he supposed to be?” asked the lawyer.
+
+“Some say, a returned convict,--a banker that was transported thirty
+years ago for forgery; others, that he is Con O'Hara, that killed Major
+Stackpoole in the famous duel at Bunratty Castle. Magennis swears that
+he remembers the face well; at all events, there is a mystery about him,
+and when he came into the shop below stairs--”
+
+“Oh, then, you have seen him yourself?”
+
+“Yes; he came in on Monday last, and asked for some glazed gunpowder,
+and if we had bullets of a large mould to fit his pistols. They were
+curiosities in their way; they were made in America, and had a bore
+large as your thumb.”
+
+“You had some conversation with him?”
+
+“A few words about the country and the crops. He said he thought we had
+good prospects for the wheat, and, if we should have a fine harvest,
+a good winter was like to follow. Meaning that, with enough to eat, we
+should have fewer outrages in the dark nights, and by that I knew he
+was one acquainted with the country. I said as much, and then he turned
+fiercely on me, and remarked, 'I never questioned you, sir, about your
+hides and tallow and ten-penny nails, for they were _your_ affairs;
+please, then, to pay the same deference to _me_ and _mine_.' And before
+I could reply he was gone.”
+
+“It was a rude speech,” said Repton, thoughtfully; “but many men are
+morose from circumstances whose natures are full of kindliness and
+gentleness.”
+
+“It was precisely the impression this stranger made upon me. There was
+that in his manner which implied a hard lot in life,--no small share of
+the shadiest side of fortune; and even when his somewhat coarse rebuke
+was uttered, I was more disposed to be angry with myself for being the
+cause than with him who made it.”
+
+“Where is he stopping just now?”
+
+“At Kilkieran, I have heard; but he has been repeatedly back and forward
+in the town here during the week, though for the last few days I have
+not seen him. Perhaps he has heard of Scanlan's intention to summons
+him for aiding and abetting an assault, and has kept out of the way in
+consequence.”
+
+“_He_ keep out of the way!” cried Repton; “you never mistook a man more
+in your life!”
+
+“You are acquainted with him, then?” said Nelligan, in amazement.
+
+“That am I, sir. No one knows him better, and on my knowledge of the man
+it was that I apologized for his incivility to yourself. If I cannot
+say more, Mr. Nelligan, it is not because I have any mistrust in your
+confidence, but that my friend's secret is, in his own charge, and only
+to be revealed at his own pleasure.”
+
+“I wish you would tell him that I never meant to play the spy upon
+him,--that my remark was a merely chance observation--”
+
+“I promise you to do so,” broke in Repton. “I promise you still more,
+that before he leaves this you shall have an apology from his own lips
+for his accidental rudeness; nay, two men that would know how to respect
+each other should never part under even a passing misunderstanding. It
+is an old theory of mine, Mr. Nelligan, that good men's good opinions of
+us form the pleasantest store of our reminiscences, and I 'd willingly
+go a hundred miles to remove a misconception that might bring me back to
+the esteem of an honorable heart, though I never were to set eyes again
+on him who possessed it.”
+
+“I like your theory well, sir,” said Nelligan, cordially.
+
+“You 'll find the practice will reward you,” said Repton.
+
+“I confess this stranger has inspired me with great curiosity.”
+
+“I can well understand the feeling,” said Repton, musing. “It is with
+men as with certain spots in landscape, there are chance glimpses which
+suggest to us the fair scenes that lie beyond our view! Poor fellow!
+poor fellow!” muttered he once or twice to himself; and then starting
+abruptly, said, “You have made me so cordially welcome here that I
+am going to profit by every privilege of a guest. I 'm going to say
+good-night, for I have much before me on the morrow.”
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXV. HOW DIPLOMACY FAILED
+
+Repton was up at daybreak, and at his desk. Immense folios littered the
+table, and even the floor around him, and the old lawyer sat amidst a
+chaos that it was difficult to believe was only the growth of an hour or
+two. All the intentness of his occupation, however, did not prevent him
+hearing a well-known voice in the little stable-yard beneath his window,
+and opening the sash he called out, “Mas-singbred, is that you?”
+
+“Ah, Mr. Repton, are you stirring so early? I had not expected to see
+you for at least two hours to come. May I join you?”
+
+“By all means; at once,” was the answer. And the next moment they were
+together. “Where's Barry? When did you see him last?” was Repton's first
+question.
+
+“For a moment, on Tuesday last; he came up here to learn if you had
+arrived, or when you might be expected. He seemed disappointed when I
+said not before the latter end of the week, and muttered something about
+being too late. He seemed flurried and excited. I heard afterwards
+that he had been somehow mixed up with that tumultuous assemblage that
+resisted the police, and I offered to go back with him to Kilkieran, but
+he stopped me short, saying, 'I am not at Kilkieran;' and so abruptly as
+to show that my proposal was not acceptable. He then sat down and wrote
+a short letter, which he desired me to give you on arriving; but to
+deliver it with my own hand, as, if any reply were necessary, I should
+be ready to carry it to him. This is the letter.”
+
+Repton read it rapidly, and then, walking to the window, stood pondering
+over the contents.
+
+“You know this man Merl, don't you, Massingbred?” asked Repton.
+
+“Yes, thoroughly.”
+
+“The object of this letter is to try one last chance for an arrangement.
+Barry suspects that the Jew's ambition for Irish proprietorship may have
+been somewhat dashed by the experience of the last few days; that he
+will be likely enough to weigh the advantages and disadvantages with a
+juster appreciation than if he had never come here, and, if such be the
+case, we are ready to meet with a fair and equitable offer. We'll repay
+him all that he advanced in cash to young Martin, and all that he won
+from him at play, if he surrender his reversionary claim. We'll ask no
+questions as to how this loan was made, or how that debt incurred. It
+shall be the briefest of all transactions,--a sum in simple addition,
+and a check for the total.”
+
+“He'll refuse,--flatly refuse it,” said Massingbred. “The very offer
+will restore any confidence the last few days may have shaken; he'll
+judge the matter like the shares of a stock that are quoted higher in
+the market.”
+
+“You think so?”
+
+“I'm sure of it. I'm ashamed to say, Mr. Repton, that my knowledge of
+the Herman Merl class may be greater than yours. It is the one solitary
+point in the realm of information wherein I am probably your superior.”
+
+“There are others, and of a very different order, in which I would
+own you the master,” said Repton. “But to our case. Suppose,--a mere
+supposition, if you like,--but suppose that it could be demonstrated to
+Mr. Merl that his claim will be not only resisted, but defeated; that
+the right on which he relies is valueless,--the deed not worth the
+stamps it bears; that this offer is made to avoid a publicity and
+exposure far more injurious to him than to those who now shrink from it.
+What think you then?”
+
+“Simply that he'd not believe it! He'd say, and many others would say,
+'If the right lay so incontestably with these others, they 'd not give
+some twenty thousand pounds to compromise what they could enforce for
+the mere cost of a trial.'”
+
+“Mr. Massingbred, too, would perhaps take the same view of the
+transaction,” said Repton, half tartly.
+
+“Not if Mr. Repton assured me that he backed the opposite opinion,” said
+Jack, politely.
+
+“I thank you heartily for that speech,” said the old man, as he grasped
+the other's hand cordially; “you deserve, and shall have my fullest
+confidence.”
+
+“May I ask,” said Jack, “if this offer to buy off Merl be made in the
+interest of the Martins, for otherwise I really see no great object, so
+far as they are concerned, in the change of mastery?”
+
+“You'll have to take _my_ word for that,” said Repton, “or rather, to
+take the part I assume in this transaction as the evidence of it; and
+now, as I see that you are satisfied, will you accept of the duty of
+this negotiation? Will you see and speak with Merl? Urge upon him all
+the arguments your own ingenuity will furnish, and when you come, if
+you should be so driven, to the coercive category, and that you want
+the siege artillery, then send for _me_. Depend upon it, it will be no
+_brutum fulmen_ that I 'll bring up; nor will I, as Pelham said, fire
+with 'government powder.' My cannon shall be inscribed, like those of
+the old volunteers, independence or--”
+
+At any other moment Jack might have smiled at the haughty air and
+martial stride of the old man, as, stimulated by his words, he paced the
+room; but there was a sincerity and a resolution about him that offered
+no scope for ridicule. His very features wore a look of intrepidity that
+bespoke the courage that animated him.
+
+“Now, Massingbred,” said he, laying his hand on the young man's arm, “it
+is only because I am not free to tell another man's secret that I do
+not at once place you fully in possession of all I myself know of this
+transaction; but rely on it, you shall be informed on every point, and
+immediately after the issue of this negotiation with Merl, whatever be
+the result, you shall stand on the same footing with myself.”
+
+“You cannot suppose that I exact this confidence?” began Jack.
+
+“I only know it is your due, sir,” said Repton. “Go now,--it is not too
+early; see this man, and let the meeting be of the briefest, for if I
+were to tell you my own mind, I'd say I'd rather he should reject our
+offer.”
+
+“You are, I own, a little incomprehensible this morning,” said
+Massingbred, “but I am determined to yield you a blind obedience; and so
+I'm off.”
+
+“I 'll wait breakfast for you,” said Repton, as he reseated himself to
+his work.
+
+Repton requested Mr. Nelligan's permission to have his breakfast
+served in his own room, and sat for a long time impatiently awaiting
+Massingbred's return. He was at one time aroused by a noise below
+stairs, but it was not the announcement of him he looked for; and he
+walked anxiously to and fro in his chamber, each moment adding to the
+uneasiness that he felt.
+
+“Who was it that arrived half an hour ago?” asked he of the servant.
+
+“Mr. Joe, sir, the counsellor, has just come from Dublin, and is at
+breakfast with the master.”
+
+“Ah! he 's come, is he? So much the better,” muttered Repton, “we may
+want his calm, clear head to assist us here; not that we shall have to
+fear a contest,--there is no enemy in the field,--and if there were,
+Val Repton is ready to meet him!” And the old man crossed his arms, and
+stood erect in all the consciousness of his undiminished vigor. “Here
+he comes at last,--I know his step on the stair.” And he flung open the
+door for Massingbred.
+
+“I read failure in your flushed cheek, Massingbred; failure and anger
+both, eh?”
+
+Massingbred tried to smile. If there was any quality on which he
+especially prided himself, it was the bland semblance of equanimity he
+could assume in circumstances of difficulty and irritation. It was
+his boast to be able to hide his most intense emotions at moments
+of passion, and there was a period in which, indeed, he wielded this
+acquirement. Of later times, however, he had grown more natural
+and impulsive; he had not yet lost the sense of pain this yielding
+occasioned, and it was with evident irritation that he found Repton had
+read his thoughts.
+
+“You perceive, then, that I am unsuccessful?” said he, with a faint
+smile. “So much the better if my face betrays me; it will save a world
+of explanation!”
+
+“Make your report, sir, and I'll make the tea,” said Repton, as he
+proceeded to that office.
+
+“The fellow was in bed,--he refused to see me, and it was only by some
+insistence that I succeeded in gaining admittance. He has had leeches
+to his temples. He was bruised, it seems, when he fell, but far more
+frightened than hurt. He looks the very picture of terror, and lies
+with a perfect armory of pistols beside his bed. Scanlan was there,
+and thought to remain during our interview; but I insisted on his
+withdrawing, and he went. The amiable attorney, somehow, has a kind of
+respect for me that is rather amusing. As for Merl, he broke out into a
+vulgar tirade of passion, abused the country and the people, cursed the
+hour he came amongst them, and said, if he only knew the nature of the
+property before he made his investment, he 'd rather have purchased
+Guatemala bonds, or Santa Fé securities.
+
+“'Then I have come fortunately,' said I, 'for I bring you an offer to
+reimburse all your outlay, and to rid you of a charge so little to your
+inclination.'
+
+“'Oh! you do, do you?' said he, with one of his cunningest leers.
+'You may not be able, perhaps, to effect that bargain, though. It's one
+thing to pay down a smart sum of money and wait your time for recovering
+it, and it's another to surrender your compact when the hour of
+acquisition has arrived. I bought this reversion--at least, I paid the
+first instalment of the price--four years ago, when the late man's life
+was worth twenty years' purchase. Well, he 's gone now, and do you think
+that I 'm going to give up my claim for what it cost me?'
+
+“I gently insinuated that the investigation of the claim might lead to
+unpleasant revelations. There were various incidents of the play-table,
+feasible and successful enough after a supper with champagne, and in the
+short hours before day, which came off with an ill-grace on the table of
+a court of justice, with three barons of the exchequer to witness them.
+That I myself might prove an awkward evidence, if unhappily cited to
+appear; that of my own knowledge I could mention three young fellows of
+good fortune who had been drained to their last shilling in his company.
+In fact, we were both remarkably candid with each other, and while _I_
+reminded _him_ of some dark passages at _écarté, he_ brought to _my_
+memory certain protested bills and dishonored notes that 'non jucundum
+esset meminisse.' I must say, for both of us, we did the thing well, and
+in good breeding; we told and listened to our several shortcomings with
+a temper that might have graced a better cause, and I defy the world to
+produce two men who could have exchanged the epithets of swindler and
+scamp with more thorough calm and good manners. Unhappily, however, high
+as one rises in his own esteem by such contests, he scarcely makes the
+same ascent in that of his neighbor, and so we came, in our overflowing
+frankness, to admit to each other more of our respective opinions than
+amounts to flattery. I believe, and, indeed, I hope, I should have
+maintained my temper to the end, had not the fellow pretty broadly
+insinuated that some motive of personal advantage had prompted my
+interference, and actually pushed his insolence so far as to insinuate
+that 'I should make a better thing' by adhering to his fortunes.”
+
+Repton started at these words, and Massingbred resumed: “True, upon my
+honor; I exaggerate nothing. It was a gross outrage, and very difficult
+to put up with; so I just expressed my sincere regret that instead of
+being in bed he was not up and stirring, inasmuch as I should have tried
+what change of air might have done for him, by pitching him out of the
+window. He tugged violently at the bell-rope, as though I were about to
+execute my menace, and so I left him. My diplomacy has, therefore, been
+a sad failure. I only hope that I may not have increased the difficulty
+of the case by my treatment of it.”
+
+“You never thought of _me_ at all, then?” asked Repton.
+
+“Never, till I was once more in the street; then I remembered something
+of what you said about coercive means, but of what avail a mere menace?
+This fellow is not new to such transactions,--he has gone through all
+the phases of 'bulleydom.' Besides, there is a dash of Shylock in every
+Jew that ever breathed. They will 'have their bond,' unless it can be
+distinctly proved to them that the thing is impossible.”
+
+“Now then for our breaching battery,” said Repton, rising and pacing
+the room. “This attempt at a compromise never had any favor in my eyes;
+Barry wished it, and I yielded. Now for a very different course. Can
+you find a saddle-horse here? Well, then, be ready to set out in half an
+hour, and search out Barry for me. He'll be found at Kilkieran, or the
+neighborhood; say we must meet at once; arrange time and place for the
+conference, and come back to me.”
+
+Repton issued his directions with an air of command, and Massingbred
+prepared as implicitly to obey them.
+
+“Mr. Nelligan has lent me his own pad,” said Massingbred, entering soon
+after, “and his son will accompany me, so that I am at your orders at
+once.”
+
+“There are your despatches,” said Repton, giving him a sealed packet.
+“Let me see you here as soon as may be.”
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXVI. A GREAT DISCOVERY
+
+About an hour after Massingbred's departure for Kilkieran, Mr. Repton
+set out for Cro' Martin Castle. The inn had furnished him its best
+chaise and four of its primest horses; and had the old lawyer been
+disposed to enjoy the pleasure which a great moralist has rated so
+highly, of rapid motion through the air, he might have been gratified on
+that occasion. Unhappily, however, he was not so minded. Many and very
+serious cares pressed upon him. He was travelling a road, too, which he
+had so often journeyed in high spirits, fancying to himself the pleasant
+welcome before him, and even rehearsing to his own mind the stores of
+agreeability he was to display,--and now it was to a deserted mansion,
+lonely and desolate, he was turning! Death and ruin both had done their
+work on that ancient family, whose very name in the land seemed already
+hastening to oblivion!
+
+Few men could resist the influence of depression better than Repton. It
+was not alone that his temperament was still buoyant and energetic,
+but the habits of his profession had taught him the necessity of being
+prepared for emergencies, and he would have felt it a dereliction of
+duty were his sentiments to overmaster his power of action.
+
+Still, as he went along, the well-known features of the spot would
+recall memories of the past. There lay a dense wood, of which he
+remembered the very day, the very hour, poor Martin had commenced the
+planting. There was the little trout-stream, where, under pretence
+of fishing, he had lounged along the summer day, with Horace for his
+companion; that, the school-house Mary had sketched, and built out of
+her own pocket-money. And now the great massive gates slowly opened, and
+they were within the demesne,--all silent and noiseless. As they came in
+sight of the castle, Repton covered his face with his hands, and sat for
+some minutes thus. Then, as if mastering his emotion, he raised his head
+and folded his arms on his chest.
+
+“You are true to time, I perceive, Dr. Leslie,” said he, as the chaise
+stopped at the door and the venerable clergyman came forward to greet
+him.
+
+“I got your note last night, sir, but I determined not to keep you
+waiting, for I perceive you say that time is precious now.”
+
+“I thank you heartily,” said Repton, as he shook the other's hand. “I am
+grateful to you also for being here to meet me, for I begin to feel my
+courage fail me as to crossing that threshold again!”
+
+“Age has its penalties as well as its blessings, sir,” said Leslie,
+“and amongst these is to outlive those dear to us!” There was a painful
+significance to his own desolate condition that made these words doubly
+impressive.
+
+Repton made no reply, but pulled the bell strongly; and the loud, deep
+sounds rung out clearly through the silent house. After a brief interval
+a small window above the door was opened, and a man with a blunderbuss
+in his hand sternly demanded their business.
+
+“Oh, I ax pardon, sir,” said he, as suddenly correcting himself. “I
+thought it was that man that 's come to take the place,--'the Jew,'
+they call him,--and Mr. Magennis said I was n't to let him in, or one
+belonging to him.”
+
+“No, Barney, we are not his friends,” said Dr. Leslie; “this is Mr.
+Repton.”
+
+“Sure I know the Counsellor well, sir,” said Barney. “I 'll be down in a
+minute and open the door.”
+
+“I must go to work at once,” said Repton, in a low and somewhat broken
+voice, “or this place will be too much for me. Every step I go is
+calling up old times and old scenes. I had thought my heart was
+of sterner stuff. Isn't this the way to the library? No, not that
+way,--that was poor Martin's own breakfast-room!” He spoke hurriedly,
+like one who wished to suppress emotion by very activity of thought.
+
+
+While the man who conducted them opened the window-shutters and the
+windows, Repton and his companion sat down without speaking. At last he
+withdrew, and Repton, rising, said,--“Some of the happiest hours of my
+life were passed in this same room. I used to come up here after the
+fatigues of circuit, and, throwing myself into one of those easy-chairs,
+dream away for a day or two, gazing out on that bold mountain yonder,
+above the trees, and wondering how those fellows who never relaxed, in
+this wise, could sustain the wear and tear of life; for that junketing
+to Harrow-gate, that rattling, noisy steamboating up the Rhine, that
+Cockney heroism of Swiss travel, is my aversion. The calm forenoon
+for thought, the pleasant dinner-table for genial enjoyment
+afterwards,--these are true recreations. And what evenings we have had
+here! But I must not dwell on these.” And now he threw upon the table a
+mass of papers and letters, amongst which he sought out one, from which
+he took a small key. “Dr. Leslie,” said he, “you might have been assured
+that I have not called upon you to meet me to-day without a sufficient
+reason. I know that, from certain causes, of which I am not well
+informed, you were not on terms of much intimacy with my poor friend
+here. This is not a time to think of these things; _you_, I am well
+assured, will never remember them.”
+
+Leslie made a motion of assent; and the other went on, his voice
+gradually gaining in strength and fulness, and his whole manner by
+degrees assuming the characteristic of the lawyer.
+
+“To the few questions to which I will ask your answers, now, I have to
+request all your attention. They are of great importance; they may, very
+probably, be re-asked of you under more solemn circumstances; and I have
+to bespeak, not alone all your accuracy for the replies, but that you
+may be able, if asked, to state the manner and even the words in which
+I now address you.--You have been the incumbent of this parish for a
+length of time,--what number of years?”
+
+“Sixty-three. I was appointed to the vicarage on my ordination, and
+never held any other charge.”
+
+“You knew the late Darcy Martin, father of the last proprietor of this
+estate?”
+
+“Intimately.”
+
+“You baptized his two children, born at the same birth. State what you
+remember of the circumstance.”
+
+“I was sent for to the castle to give a private baptism to the two
+infants, and requested that I would bring the vestry-book along with
+me for the registration. I did so. The children were accordingly
+christened, and their births duly registered and witnessed.”
+
+“Can you remember the names by which they were called?”
+
+“Not from the incident in question, though I know the names from
+subsequent knowledge of them, as they grew up to manhood.”
+
+“What means, if any, were adopted at the time to distinguish the
+priority of birth?”
+
+“The eldest was first baptized, and his birth specially entered in
+the vestry-book as such; all the witnesses who signed the entry
+corroborating the fact by special mention of it under their signature.
+We also heard that the child wore a gold bracelet on one arm; but I did
+not remark it.”
+
+“You have this vestry-book in your keeping?”
+
+“No; Mr. Martin retained it, with some object of more formal
+registration. I repeatedly asked for it, but never could obtain it. At
+length some coolness grew up between us, and I could not, or did not
+wish to press my demand; and at last it lapsed entirely from my memory,
+so that from that day I never saw it.”
+
+“You could, however, recognize it, and be able to verify your
+signature?”
+
+“Certainly.”
+
+“Was there, so far as you could see, any marked distinction made between
+the children while yet young?”
+
+“I can remember that at the age of three or four the eldest boy wore a
+piece of red or blue ribbon on his sleeve; but any other mark I never
+observed. They were treated, so far as I could perceive, precisely
+alike; and their resemblance to each other was then so striking, it
+would have been a matter of great nicety to distinguish them. Even
+at school, I am told, mistakes constantly occurred, and one boy once
+received the punishment incurred by the other.”
+
+“As they grew up, you came to recognize the eldest by his name?”
+
+“Yes. Old Mr. Darcy Martin used to take the elder boy more about with
+him. He was then a child of ten or eleven years old. He was particular
+in calling attention to him, saying, 'This fellow is to be my heir;
+he 'll be the Martin of Cro' Martin yet'”
+
+“And what name did the boy bear?”
+
+“Godfrey,--Godfrey Martin. The second boy's name was Barry.”
+
+“You are sure of this?”
+
+“Quite sure. I have dined a number of times at the castle, when Godfrey
+was called in after dinner, and the other boy was generally in disgrace;
+and I could remark that his father spoke of him in a tone of irritation
+and bitterness, which he did not employ towards the other.”
+
+“Mr. Martin died before his sons came of age?”
+
+“Yes; they were only nineteen at his death.”
+
+“He made a will, I believe, to which you were a witness?”
+
+“I was; but somehow the will was lost or mislaid, and it was only by
+a letter to the Honorable Colonel Forbes, of Lisvally, that Martin's
+intentions about appointing him guardian to his elder boy were
+ascertained. I myself was named guardian to the second son, an office
+of which he soon relieved me by going abroad, and never returned for a
+number of years.”
+
+“Godfrey Martin then succeeded to the estate in due course?”
+
+“Yes, and we were very intimate for a time, till after his marriage,
+when estrangement grew up between us, and at last we ceased to visit at
+all.”
+
+“Were the brothers supposed to be on good terms with each other?”
+
+“I have heard two opposite versions on that subject. My own impression
+was that Lady Dorothea disliked Barry Martin, who had made a marriage
+that was considered beneath him; and then his brother was, from easiness
+of disposition, gradually weaned of his old affection for him. Many
+thought Barry, with all his faults, the better-hearted of the two.”
+
+“Can you tell what ultimately became of this Barry Martin?”
+
+“I only know, from common report, that after the death of his wife,
+having given his infant child, a girl, in charge to his brother, he
+engaged in the service of some of the Southern American Republics,
+and is supposed yet to be living there,--some say in great affluence;
+others, that he is utterly ruined by a failure in a mining speculation.
+The last time I ever heard Godfrey speak of him was in terms of sincere
+affection, adding the words, 'Poor Barry will befriend every one but
+himself.'”
+
+“So that he never returned?”
+
+“I believe not; at least I never heard of it.”
+
+“I have written down these questions and your answers to them,” said
+Repton; “will you read them over, and if you find them correct, append
+your signature. I am expecting Mr. Nelligan here, and I 'll go and see
+if there be any sign of his arrival.”
+
+Repton just reached the door as Mr. Nelligan drove up to it.
+
+“All goes on well and promptly to-day,” said the old lawyer. “I have got
+through a good deal of business already, and I expect to do as much more
+ere evening sets in. I have asked you to be present, as a magistrate,
+while I examine the contents of a certain closet in this house. I am led
+to believe that very important documents are deposited there, and it is
+in your presence, and that of Mr. Leslie, I purpose to make the inquiry.
+Before I do so, however, I will entreat your attention to a number of
+questions, and the answers to them, which will be read out to you. You
+will then be in a better position to judge of any discovery which the
+present investigation may reveal. All this sounds enigmatically enough,
+Mr. Nelligan; but you will extend your patience to me for a short while,
+and I hope to repay it.”
+
+Nelligan bowed in silence, and followed him into the house.
+
+“There,” said Mr. Leslie, “I have written my name to that paper; it is,
+so far as I can see, perfectly correct.”
+
+“Now, let me read it for Mr. Nelligan,” said Repton; and, without
+further preface, recited aloud the contents of the document. “I
+conclude, sir,” said he, as he finished, “that there is nothing in what
+you have just heard very new or very strange to your ears. You knew
+before that Darcy Martin had two sons; that they were twins; and that
+one of them, Godfrey, inherited the estate. You may also have heard
+something of the brother's history; more, perhaps, than is here alluded
+to.”
+
+“I have always heard him spoken of as a wild, reckless fellow, and that
+it was a piece of special good fortune he was not born to the property,
+or he had squandered every shilling of it,” said Nelligan.
+
+“Yes,” said Leslie, “such was the character he bore.”
+
+“That will do,” said Repton, rising. “Now, gentlemen, I'm about to
+unlock this cabinet, and, if I be correctly informed, we shall find
+the vestry-book with the entries spoken of by Mr. Leslie, and the long
+missing will of Darcy Martin. Such, I repeat, are the objects I expect
+to discover; and it is in your presence I proceed to this examination.”
+
+In some astonishment at his words, the others followed him to the corner
+of the room, where, half concealed in the wainscot, a small door was
+at length discovered, unlocking which, Repton and the others entered a
+little chamber, lighted by a narrow, loopholed window. Not stopping to
+examine the shelves loaded with old documents and account-books, Repton
+walked straight to a small ebony cabinet, on a bracket, opening which,
+he drew forth a square vellum-bound book, with massive clasps.
+
+“The old vestry-book. I know it well,” said Leslie.
+
+“Here are the documents in parchment,” continued Repton, “and a sealed
+paper. What are the lines in the corner, Mr. Nelligan,--your eyes are
+better than mine?”
+
+“'Agreement between Godfrey and Barry Martin. To be opened by whichever
+shall survive the other.' The initials of each are underneath.”
+
+“With this we have no concern,” said Repton; “our business lies with
+these.” And he pointed to the vestry-book. “Let us look for the entry
+you spoke of.”
+
+“It is easily found,” said Leslie. “It was the last ever made in that
+book. Here it is.” And he read aloud: “'February 8th, 1772. Privately
+baptized, at Cro' Martin Castle, by me, Henry Leslie, Incumbent and
+Vicar of the said parish, Barry and Godfrey, sons of Darcy Martin and
+Eleanor his wife, both born on the fourth day of the aforesaid month;
+and, for the better discrimination of their priority in age, it is
+hereby added that Barry Martin is the elder, and Godfrey the second
+son, to which fact the following are attesting witnesses: Michael Keirn,
+house-steward; George Dorcas, butler; and Catharine Broon, maid of
+still-room.'”
+
+“Is that in your handwriting, sir?” asked Repton.
+
+“Yes, every word of it, except the superscription of the witnesses.”
+
+“Why, then it would appear that the eldest son never enjoyed his
+rights,” cried Nelligan. “Is that possible?”
+
+“It is the strict truth, sir,” said Repton. “The whole history of the
+case adds one to the thousand instances of the miserable failures men
+make who seek by the indulgence of their own caprices to obstruct the
+decrees of Providence. Darcy Martin died in the belief that he had
+so succeeded; and here, now, after more than half a century, are the
+evidences which reverse his whole policy, and subvert all his plans.”
+
+“But what could have been the object here?” asked Nelligan.
+
+“Simply his preference for the younger-born. No sooner had the children
+arrived at that time of life when dispositions display themselves, than
+he singled out Godfrey as his favorite. He distinguished him in every
+way, and as markedly showed that he felt little affection for the other.
+Whether this favoritism, so openly expressed, had its influence on the
+rest of the household, or that really they grew to believe that the
+boy thus selected for peculiar honor was the heir, it would be very
+difficult now to say. Each cause may have contributed its share; all we
+know is, that when sent to Dr. Harley's school, at Oughterard, Godfrey
+was called the elder, and distinguished as such by a bit of red ribbon
+in his button-hole. And thus they grew up to youth and manhood,--the
+one flattered, indulged, and caressed; the other equally depreciated and
+undervalued. Men are, in a great measure, what others make them.
+Godfrey became proud, indolent, and overbearing; Barry, reckless and a
+spendthrift Darcy Martin died, and Godfrey succeeded him as matter of
+course; while Barry, disposing of the small property bequeathed to him,
+set out to seek adventures in the Spanish Main.
+
+“I am not able to tell, had you even the patience to hear, of what
+befell him there; the very strangest, wildest incidents are recorded
+of his life, but they have no bearing on what we are now engaged in. He
+came back, however, with a wife, to find his brother also married. This
+is a period of his life of which little is known. The brothers did not
+live well together. There were serious differences between them; and
+Lady Dorothea's conduct towards her sister-in-law, needlessly cruel and
+offensive, as I have heard, imbittered the relations between them.
+At last Barry's wife died, it was said, of a broken heart, and Barry
+arrived at Cro' Martin to deposit his infant child with his brother, and
+take leave of home and country forever.
+
+“Some incident of more than usual importance, and with circumstances
+of no common pain, must now have occurred; for one night Barry left the
+castle, vowing nevermore to enter it. Godfrey followed, and tried to
+detain him. A scene ensued of entreaty on one side, and passionate
+vehemence on the other, which brought some of the servants to the spot.
+Godfrey imperiously ordered them away; they all obeyed but Catty. Catty
+Broon followed Barry, and never quitted him that night, which he spent
+walking up and down the long avenue of the demesne, watching and waiting
+for daybreak. We can only conjecture what, in the violence of her grief
+and indignation, this old attached follower of the house might have
+revealed. Barry had always been her favorite of the two boys; she knew
+his rights; she had never forgotten them. She could not tell by what
+subtleties of law they had been transferred to another, but she felt in
+her heart assured that in the sight of God they were sacred. How far,
+then, she revealed this to him, or only hinted it, we have no means of
+knowing. We can only say that, armed with a certain fact, Barry demanded
+the next day a formal meeting with his brother and his sister-in-law. Of
+what passed then and there, no record remains, save, possibly, in
+that sealed packet; for it bears the date of that eventful morning.
+I, however, am in a position to prove that Barry declared he would not
+disturb the possession Godfrey was then enjoying. 'Make that poor
+child,' said he, alluding to his little girl, your own daughter, and it
+matters little what becomes of _me_.' Godfrey has more than once
+adverted to this distressing scene to me. He told me how Lady Dorothea's
+passion was such that she alternately inveighed against himself for
+having betrayed her into a marriage beneath her, and abjectly implored
+Barry not to expose them to the shame and disgrace of the whole world by
+the assertion of his claim. From this she would burst out into fits of
+open defiance of him, daring him as an impostor; in fact, Martin said,
+'That morning has darkened my life forever; the shadow of it will be
+over me to the last hour I live!' And so it was! Self-reproach never
+left him: at one time, for his usurpation of what never was his; at
+another, for the neglect of poor Mary, who was suffered to grow up
+without any care of her education, or, indeed, of any attention whatever
+bestowed upon her.
+
+“I believe that, in spite of herself, Lady Dorothea visited the
+dislike she bore Barry on his daughter. It was a sense of hate from the
+consciousness of a wrong,--one of the bitterest sources of enmity!
+At all events, she showed her little affection,--no tenderness. Poor
+Godfrey did all that his weak and yielding nature would permit to repair
+this injustice; his consciousness that to that girl's father he owed
+position, fortune, station, everything, was ever rising up in his mind,
+and urging him to some generous effort in her behalf. But you knew him;
+you knew how a fatal indolence, a shrinking horror of whatever demanded
+action or energy overcame all his better nature, and made him as
+useless to all the exigencies of life as one whose heart was eaten up by
+selfishness.
+
+“The remainder of this sad story is told in very few words. Barry Martin,
+from whom for several years before no tidings had been received, came
+suddenly back to England. At first it had not been his intention to
+revisit Ireland. There was something of magnanimity in the resolve to
+stay away. He would not come back to impose upon his brother a renewal
+of that lease of gratitude he derived from him; he would rather spare
+him the inevitable conflict of feeling which the contrast of his own
+affluence with the humble condition of an exile would evoke. Besides, he
+was one of those men whom, whatever Nature may have disposed them to be,
+the world has so crushed and hardened that they live rather to indulge
+strong resentments and stern duties than to gratify warm affections.
+Something he had accidentally heard in a coffee-room--the chance mention
+by a traveller recently returned from Ireland--about a young lady of
+rank and fortune whom he had met hunting her own harriers alone in the
+wildest glen of Connemara, decided him to go over there, and, under the
+name of Mr. Barry, to visit the scenes of his youth.
+
+“I have but to tell you that it was in that dreary month of November,
+when plague and famine came together upon us, that he saw this country;
+the people dying on every side, the land until led, the very crops in
+some places uncut, terror and dismay on every side, and they who alone
+could have inspired confidence, or afforded aid, gone! Even Cro' Martin
+was deserted,--worse than deserted; for one was left to struggle alone
+against difficulties that the boldest and the bravest might have shrunk
+from. Had Barry Martin been like any other man, he would at once have
+placed himself at her side. It was a glorious occasion to have shown
+her that she was not the lone and friendless orphan, but the loved and
+cherished child of a doting father. But the hard, stern nature of the
+man had other and very different impulses; and though he tracked her
+from cottage to cottage, followed her in her lonely rambles, and watched
+her in her daily duties, no impulse of affection ever moved him to call
+her his daughter and bring her home to his heart. I know not whether it
+was to afford him these occasions of meeting her, or really in a spirit
+of benevolence, but he dispensed large sums in acts of charity among the
+people, and Mary herself recounted to me, with tears of delight in her
+eyes, the splendid generosity of this unknown stranger. I must hasten
+on. An accident, the mere circumstance of a note-book dropped by some
+strange chance in Barry's room, revealed to him the whole story of
+Captain Martin's spendthrift life; he saw that this young man had
+squandered away not only immense sums obtained by loans, but actually
+bartered his own reversionary right to the entire estate for money
+already lost at the gaming-table.
+
+“Barry at once set out for Dublin to call upon me and declare himself;
+but I was, unfortunately, absent at the assizes. He endeavored next to
+see Scanlan. Scanlan was in London; he followed him there. To Scanlan he
+represented himself as a money-lender, who, having come to the knowledge
+of Merl's dealings with young Martin, and the perilous condition of the
+property in consequence, offered his aid to re-purchase the reversion
+while it was yet time. To effect this bargain, Scanlan hastened over to
+Baden, accompanied by Barry, who, however, for secrecy' sake, remained
+at a town in the neighborhood. Scanlan, it seems, resolved to profit
+by an emergency so full of moment, and exacted from Lady Dorothea--for
+Martin was then too ill to be consulted--the most advantageous terms for
+himself. I need not mention one of the conditions,--a formal consent to
+his marriage with Miss Martin! and this, remember, when that young lady
+had not the slightest, vaguest suspicion that such an indignity could
+be offered her, far less concurred in by her nearest relatives! In the
+exuberance of his triumph, Scanlan showed the formal letter of assent
+from Lady Dorothea to Barry. It was from this latter I had the account,
+and I can give you no details, for all he said was, 'As I crushed it in
+my hand, I clenched my fist to fell him to the ground! but I refrained.
+I muttered a word or two, and got out into the street. I know very
+little more.'
+
+“That night he set out for Baden; but of his journey I know nothing. The
+only hint of it he ever dropped was when, giving me this key, he said,
+'I saw Godfrey.'
+
+“He is now back here once more; come to insist upon his long unasserted
+rights, and by a title so indisputable that it will leave no doubt of
+the result.
+
+“He is silent and uncommunicative; but he has said enough to show me
+that he is possessed of evidence of the compact between Godfrey and
+himself; nor is he the man to fail for lack of energy.
+
+“I have now come to the end of this strange history, in which it is not
+impossible you yourselves may be called to play a part, in confirmation
+of what you have seen this day.”
+
+“Then this was the same Mr. Barry of whom we spoke last night?” said
+Nelligan, thoughtfully. “When about to describe him to you, I was really
+going to say, something like what Mr. Martin might look, if ten years
+older and white-haired.”
+
+“There is a strong resemblance still!” said Repton, as he busied himself
+sealing up the vestry-book and the other documents. “These I mean to
+deposit in your keeping, Mr. Nelligan, till they be called for. I have
+sent over Massingbred to Barry to learn what his wishes may be as to the
+next legal steps; and now I am ready to return with you to Oughterard.”
+
+Talking over this singular story, they reached the town, where
+Massingbred had just arrived a short time before.
+
+“I have had a long chase,” said Jack, “and only found him late in the
+afternoon at the cottage.”
+
+“You gave him the packet, then, and asked when we should meet?” asked
+Repton, hurriedly.
+
+“Yes; he was walking up and down before the door with the doctor, when
+we rode up. He scarcely noticed us; and taking your letter in his hand
+he placed it, without breaking the seal, on a seat in the porch. I then
+gave him your message, and he seemed so lost in thought that I fancied
+he had not attended to me. I was about to repeat it, when he interrupted
+me, saying, 'I have heard you, sir; there is no answer.' As I stood
+for a moment or two, uncertain what to do or say, I perceived that
+Joe Nelligan, who had been speaking to the doctor, had just staggered
+towards a bench, ill and fainting. 'Yes,' said Barry, turning his eyes
+towards him, 'she is very--very ill; tell Repton so, and he 'll feel for
+me!'”
+
+Repton pressed his handkerchief to his face and turned away.
+
+“I 'm afraid,” said Massingbred, “that her state is highly dangerous.
+The few words the doctor dropped were full of serious meaning.”
+
+“Let us hope, and pray,” said Repton, fervently, “that, amidst all the
+calamities of this sorrow-struck land, it may be spared the loss of one
+who never opened a cabin door without a blessing, nor closed it but to
+shut a hope within.”
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXVII. A DARK DAY
+
+A mild, soft day, with low-lying clouds, and rich odors of wild-flowers
+rising from the ground, a certain dreamy quiet pervading earth and sky
+and sea, over which faint shadows lingered lazily; some drops of the
+night dew still glittered on the feathery larches, and bluebells hung
+down their heads, heavy with moisture; so still the scene that the plash
+of the leaping trout could be heard as he rose in the dark stream. And
+yet there was a vast multitude of people there. The whole surface of the
+lawn that sloped from the cottage to the river was densely crowded, with
+every age, from the oldest to very infancy; with all conditions, from
+the well-clad peasant to the humblest “tramper” of the high-roads.
+Weariness, exhaustion, and even hunger were depicted on many of their
+faces. Some had passed the night there; others had come long distances,
+faint and footsore; but as they sat, stood, or lay in groups around,
+not a murmur, not a whisper escaped them; with aching eyes they looked
+towards an open window, where the muslin curtain was gently stirred in
+the faint air.
+
+The tidings of Mary Martin's illness had spread rapidly: far-away glens
+down the coast, lonely cabins on the bleak mountains, wild remote spots
+out of human intercourse had heard the news, and their dwellers had
+travelled many a mile to satisfy their aching hearts.
+
+From a late hour of the evening before they had learnt nothing of her
+state; then a few words whispered by old Catty to those nearest the door
+told “that she was no better,--if anything, weaker!” These sad tidings
+were soon passed from lip to lip; and thus they spent the night, praying
+or watching wearily, their steadfast gaze directed towards that spot
+where the object of all their fears and hopes lay suffering.
+
+Of those there, there was scarcely one to whom she was not endeared by
+some personal benefit. She had aided this one in distress, the other she
+had nursed in fever; here were the old she had comforted and cheered,
+there the children she had taught and trained beside her chair. Her
+gentle voice yet vibrated in every heart, her ways of kindness were in
+every memory. Sickness and sorrow were familiar enough to themselves.
+Life was, at least to most of them, one long struggle; but they could
+not bring themselves to think of _her_ thus stricken down! She! that
+seemed an angel, as much above the casualties of such fortune as theirs
+as she was their superior in station,--that _she_ should be sick and
+suffering was too terrible to think of.
+
+There was a stir and movement in the multitude, a wavy, surging motion,
+for the doctor was seen to issue from the stable-yard, and lead his pony
+towards the bridge. He stopped to say a word or two as he went. They
+were sad words; and many a sobbing voice and many a tearful eye told
+what his tidings had been. “Sinking,--sinking rapidly!”
+
+A faint low cry burst from one in the crowd at this moment, and the
+rumor ran that a woman had fainted. It was poor Joan, who had come that
+night over the mountain, and, overcome by grief and exhaustion together,
+had at last given way.
+
+“Get a glass of wine for her, or even a cup of water,” cried out three
+or four voices; and one nigh the door entered the cottage in search of
+aid. The moment after a tall and handsome girl forced her way through
+the crowd, and gave directions that Joan might be carried into the
+house.
+
+“Why did ye call her my Lady?” muttered an old hag to one of the men
+near her; “sure, she's Henderson's daughter!”
+
+“Is she, faith? By my conscience, then, she might be a better man's!
+She's as fine a crayture as ever I seen!”
+
+“If she has a purty face, she has a proud heart!” muttered another.
+
+“Ayeh! she'll never be like _her_ that's going to leave us!” sighed a
+young woman with a black ribbon in her cap.
+
+Meanwhile Kate had Joan assisted into the cottage, and was busily
+occupied in restoring her. Slowly, and with difficulty, the poor
+creature came to herself, and gazing wildly around, asked where she was;
+then suddenly bursting out in tears, she said,--“Sure, I know well where
+I am; sure, it's my own self, brought grief and sorrow under this roof.
+But for _me_ she 'd be well and hearty this day!”
+
+“Let us still hope,” said Kate, softly. “Let us hope that one so dear
+to us all may be left here. You are better now. I 'll join you again
+presently.” And with noiseless footsteps she stole up the stairs. As she
+came to the door, she halted and pressed her hands to her heart, as if
+in pain. There was a low murmuring sound, as if of voices, from within,
+and Kate turned away and sat down on the stairs.
+
+Within the sick-room a subdued light came, and a soft air, mild and
+balmy, for the rose-trees and the jessamine clustered over the window,
+and mingled their blossoms across it. Mary had just awoke from a
+short sleep, and lay with her hand clasped within that of a large and
+white-haired man at the bedside.
+
+“What a good, kind doctor!” said she, faintly; “I'm sure to find you
+ever beside me when I awake.”
+
+“Oh, darlin', dear,” broke in old Catty, “sure you ought to know who he
+is. Sure it 's your own--”
+
+“Hush! be silent!” muttered the old man, in a low, stern voice.
+
+“Is it Tuesday to-day?” asked Mary, softly.
+
+“Yes, dear, Tuesday,” said the old man.
+
+“It was on Thursday my poor uncle died. Could I live till Thursday,
+doctor?”
+
+The old man tried to speak, but could not.
+
+“You are afraid to shock me,” said she, with a faint attempt to smile,
+“but if you knew how happy I am,--happy even to leave a life I loved
+so well. It never could have been the same again, though--the spell was
+breaking, hardship and hunger were maddening them--who knows to what
+counsels they 'd have listened soon! Tell Harry to be kind to them,
+won't you? Tell him not to trust to others, but to know them himself; to
+go, as I have done, amongst them. They 'll love him _so_ for doing it.
+He is a man, young, rich, and high-hearted,--how they 'll dote upon him!
+Catty used to say it was my father they 'd have worshipped; but that was
+in flattery to me, Catty, you always said we were so like--”
+
+“Oh dear! oh dear! why won't you tell her?” broke in Catty. But a severe
+gesture from the old man again checked her words.
+
+“How that wild night at sea dwells in my thoughts! I never sleep but to
+dream of it. Cousin Harry must not forget those brave fellows. I
+have nothing to requite them with. I make no will, doctor,” said she,
+smiling, “for my only legacy is that nosegay there. Will you keep it for
+my sake?”
+
+The old man hid his face, but his strong frame shook and quivered in the
+agony of the moment.
+
+“Hush!” said she, softly; “I hear voices without. Who are they?”
+
+“They're the country-people, darlin', come from Kiltimmon and beyond
+Kyle-a-Noe, to ax after you. They passed the night there, most of them.”
+
+“Catty, dear, take care that you look after them; they will be hungry
+and famished, poor creatures! Oh, how unspeakably grateful to one's
+heart is this proof of feeling! Doctor, you will tell Harry how _I_
+loved _them_ and how _they_ loved _me_. Tell him, too, that this bond
+of affection is the safest and best of all ties. Tell him that their old
+love for a Martin still survives in their hearts, and it will be his
+own fault if he does not transmit it to his children. There's some one
+sobbing there without. Oh, bid them be of good heart, Catty; there is
+none who could go with less of loss to those behind. There--there come
+the great waves again before me! How my courage must have failed me to
+make this impression so deep! And poor Joan, and that dear fond girl
+who has been as a sister to me,--so full of gentleness and love,--Kate,
+where is she? No, do not call her; say that I asked for her--that I
+blessed her--and sent her this kiss!” She pressed a rose to her hot,
+parched lips as she spoke, and then closing her eyes seemed to fall off
+to sleep. Her breathing, at first strong and frequent, grew fainter and
+fainter, and her color came and went, while her lips slightly moved, and
+a low, soft murmur came from them.
+
+“She's asleep,” muttered Catty, as she crouched down beside the bed.
+
+The old man bent over the bed, and watched the calm features. He sat
+thus long, for hours, but no change was there; he put his lips to hers,
+and then a sickly shuddering came over him, and a low, deep groan, that
+seemed to rend his very heart!
+
+Three days after, the great gateway of Cro' Martin Castle opened to
+admit a stately hearse drawn by six horses, all mournfully caparisoned,
+shaking with plumes and black-fringed drapery. Two mourning-coaches
+followed, and then the massive gates were closed, and the sad pageant
+wound its slow course through the demesne. At the same moment another
+funeral was approaching the churchyard by a different road. It was a
+coffin borne by men bareheaded and sorrow-struck. An immense multitude
+followed, of every rank and age; sobs and sighs broke from them as they
+went. Not an eye was tearless, not a lip that did not tremble. At the
+head of this procession walked a small group whose dress and bearing
+bespoke their class. These were Barry Martin, leaning on Repton;
+Massingbred and the two Nelligans came behind.
+
+The two coffins entered the churchyard at the same instant The uncle
+and the niece were laid side by side in the turf! The same sacred words
+consigned them both to their last bed; the same second of time heard the
+dank reverberation that pronounced “earth” had returned “to earth.” A
+kind of reverential awe pervaded the immense crowd during the ceremony,
+and if here and there a sob would burst from some overburdened
+heart, all the rest were silent; respecting, with a deference of true
+refinement, a sorrow deeper and greater than their own, they never
+uttered a word, but with bent-down heads stole quietly away. And now
+by each grave the mourners stood, silently gazing on the little mounds
+which typify so much of human sorrow!
+
+Barry Martin's bronzed and weather-beaten features were a thought paler,
+perhaps. There was a dark shade of color round the eyes, but on the
+whole the expression conveyed far more of sternness than sorrow. Such,
+indeed, is no uncommon form for grief to take in certain natures. There
+are men who regard calamity like a foe, and go out to meet it in a
+spirit of haughty defiance. A poor philosophy! He who accepts it as
+chastisement is both a braver and a better man!
+
+Repton stood for a while beside him, not daring to interrupt his
+thoughts. At length he whispered a few words in his ear. Barry started
+suddenly, and his dark brow grew sterner and more resolute.
+
+“Yes, Martin, you must,” said Repton, eagerly, “I insist upon it. Good
+heavens! is it at such a time, in such a place as this, you can harbor a
+thought that is not forgiveness? Remember he is poor Godfrey's son, the
+last of the race now.” As he spoke, passing his arm within the other's,
+he drew him gently along, and led him to where a solitary mourner was
+standing beside the other grave.
+
+Barry Martin stood erect and motionless, while Repton spoke to the young
+man. At first the words seemed to confuse and puzzle him, for he
+looked vaguely around, and passed his hand across his brow in evident
+difficulty.
+
+“Did you say here, in this country? Do I understand you aright?”
+
+“Here, in this very spot; there, standing now before you!” said Repton,
+as he pushed young Martin towards his uncle.
+
+Barry held out his hand, which the young man grasped eagerly; and then,
+as if unable to resist his emotions longer, fell, sobbing violently,
+into the other's arms.
+
+“Let us leave them for a while,” said Repton, hurrying over to where
+Massingbred and the Nelligans were yet standing in silent sorrow.
+
+They left the spot together without a word. Grief had its own part for
+each. It is not for us to say where sorrow eat deepest, or in which
+heart the desolation was most complete.
+
+“I'd not have known young Martin,” whispered Nelligan in Repton's ear;
+“he looks full twelve years older than when last I saw him.”
+
+“The fast men of this age, sir, live their youth rapidly,” replied the
+other. “It is rarely their fortune to survive to be like me, or heaven
+knows what hearts they would be left with!”
+
+While they thus talked, Massingbred and Joe Nelligan had strolled away
+into the wood. Neither spoke. Massingbred felt the violent trembling
+of the other's arm as it rested on his own, and saw a gulping effort by
+which more than once he suppressed his rising emotion. For hours they
+thus loitered along, and at length, as they issued from the demesne,
+they found Repton and Mr. Nelligan awaiting them.
+
+“Barry Martin has taken his nephew back with him to the cottage,” said
+Repton, “and we 'll not intrude upon them for the rest of the evening.”
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXVIII. REPTON'S LAST CAUSE
+
+We have no right, as little have we the inclination, to inflict our
+reader with the details by which Barry Martin asserted and obtained his
+own. A suit in which young Martin assumed to be the defendant developed
+the whole history to the world, and proclaimed his title to the estate.
+It was a memorable case in many ways; it was the last brief Val Repton
+ever held. Never was his clear and searching intellect more conspicuous;
+never did he display more logical acuteness, nor trace out a difficult
+narrative with more easy perspicuity.
+
+“My Lords,” said he, as he drew nigh the conclusion of his speech, “it
+would have been no ordinary satisfaction to me to close a long life of
+labor in these courts by an effort which restores to an ancient name the
+noble heritage it had held for centuries. I should have deemed such
+an occasion no unfitting close to a career not altogether void of its
+successes; but the event has still stronger claims upon my gratitude. It
+enables me in all the unembellished sternness of legal proof to display
+to an age little credulous of much affection the force of a brother's
+love,--the high-hearted devotion by which a man encountered a long life
+of poverty and privation, rather than disturb the peaceful possession of
+a brother.
+
+“Romance has its own way of treating such themes; but I do not
+believe romance can add one feature to the simple fact of this man's
+self-denial.
+
+“We should probably be lost in our speculations as to the noble motives
+of this sacrifice, if our attention was not called away to something
+infinitely finer and more exalted than even this. I mean the glorious
+life and martyr's death of her who has made a part of this case less
+like a legal investigation than the page of an affecting story. Story,
+do I say! Shame on the word! It is in truth and reality alone are such
+virtues inscribed. Fiction cannot deal with the humble materials that
+make up such an existence,--the long hours of watching by sickness; the
+weary care of teaching the young; the trying disappointments to hope
+bravely met by fresh efforts; the cheery encouragement drawn from a
+heart exhausting itself to supply others. Think of a young girl--a very
+child in the world's wisdom, more than a man in heroism and daring, with
+a heart made for every high ambition, and a station that might command
+the highest--calmly consenting to be the friend of destitution, the
+companion of misery, the daily associate of every wretchedness; devoting
+grace that might have adorned a court to shed happiness in a cabin,
+and making of beauty that would have shed lustre around a palace the
+sunshine that pierced the gloom of a peasant's misery! Picture to
+yourself the hand a prince might have knelt to kiss, holding the cup to
+the lips of fever; fancy the form whose elegance would have fascinated,
+crouched down beside the embers as she spoke words of consolation or
+hope to some bereaved mother or some desolate orphan!
+
+“These are not the scenes we are wont to look on here. Our cares are,
+unhappily, more with the wiles and snares of crafty men than with the
+sorrows and sufferings of the good! It is not often human nature wears
+its best colors in this place; the spirit of litigious contest little
+favors the virtues that are the best adornments of our kind. Thrice
+happy am I, then, that I end my day where a glorious sunset gilds
+its last hours; that I close my labors not in reprobating crime or
+stigmatizing baseness, but with a full heart, thanking God that my last
+words are an elegy over the grave of the best of The Martins of Cro'
+Martin.'”
+
+The inaccurate record from which we take these passages--for the only
+report of the trial is in a newspaper of the time--adds that the emotion
+of the speaker had so far pervaded the court that the conclusion was
+drowned in mingled expressions of applause and sorrow; and when Repton
+retired, he was followed by the whole bar, eagerly pressing to take
+their last farewell of its honored father.
+
+The same column of the paper mentions that Mr. Joseph Nelligan was to
+have made his first motion that day as Solicitor-General, but had left
+the court from a sudden indisposition, and the cause was consequently
+deferred.
+
+If Val Repton never again took his place in court, he did not entirely
+abdicate his functions. Barry Martin had determined on making a
+conveyance of the estate to his nephew, and the old lawyer was for
+several weeks busily employed in that duty. Although Merl's claim became
+extinguished when young Martin's right to the property was annulled,
+Barry Martin insisted on arrangements being made to repay him all that
+he had advanced,--a course which Repton, with some little hesitation, at
+last concurred in. He urged Barry to reserve a life-interest to himself
+in the property, representing the various duties which more properly
+would fall to his lot than to that of a young and inexperienced
+proprietor. But he would not hear of it.
+
+“He cannot abide the place,” said Repton, when talking the matter over
+with Massingbred. “He is one of those men who never can forgive the
+locality where they have been miserable, nor the individual who has had
+a share in their sorrow. When he settles his account with Henderson,
+then he 'll leave the West forever.”
+
+“And will he still leave Henderson in his charge?” asked Jack.
+
+“That is as it may be,” said Repton, cautiously. “There is, as I
+understand, some very serious reckoning between them. It is the only
+subject on which Martin has kept mystery with me, and I do not like even
+to advert to it.”
+
+Massingbred pondered long over these words, without being able to make
+anything of them.
+
+It might be that Henderson's conduct had involved him in some grave
+charge; and if so, Jack's own intentions with regard to the daughter
+would be burdened with fresh complications. “The steward” was bad
+enough; but if he turned out to be the “unjust steward”--“I 'll start
+for Galway to-night,” thought he. “I 'll anticipate the discovery,
+whatever it be. She can no longer refuse to see me on the pretext of
+recent sorrow. It is now two months and more since this bereavement
+befell her. I can no longer combat this life of anxiety and doubt.--What
+can I do for you in the West, sir?” asked he of Repton, suddenly.
+
+“Many things, my young friend,” said Repton, “if you will delay your
+departure two days, since they are matters on which I must instruct you
+personally.”
+
+Massingbred gave a kind of half-consent, and the other went on to speak
+of the necessity for some nice diplomacy between the uncle and his
+nephew. “They know each other but little; they are on the verge of
+misunderstandings a dozen times a day. Benefits are, after all, but
+sorry ties between man and man. They may ratify the treaty of affection;
+they rarely inscribe the contract!”
+
+“Still Martin cannot but feel that to the noblest act of his uncle's
+generosity he is indebted for all he possesses.”
+
+“Of course he knows, and he feels it; but who is to say whether that
+same consciousness is not a load too oppressive to bear. I know already
+Barry Martin's suggestions as to certain changes have not been well
+taken, and he is eager and pressing to leave Ireland, lest anything
+should disturb the concord, frail as it is, between them.”
+
+“By Jove!” exclaimed Massingbred, passionately, “there is wonderfully
+little real good in this world; wonderfully little that can stand the
+test of the very basest of all motives,--mere gain.”
+
+“Don't say so!” cried Repton. “Men have far better natures than you
+think; the fault lies in their tempers. Ay, sir, we are always entering
+into heavy recognizances with our passions, to do fifty things we never
+cared for. We have said this, we have heard the other; somebody sneered
+at that, and some one else agreed with him; and away we go, pitching all
+reason behind us, like an old shoe, and only seeking to gratify a whim,
+or a mere caprice, suggested by temper. Why do people maintain friendly
+intercourse at a distance for years, who could not pass twenty-four
+hours amicably under the same roof? Simply because it is their natures,
+and not their tempers, are in exercise.”
+
+“I scarcely can separate the two in my mind,” said Jack, doubtingly.
+
+“Can't you, sir? Why, nature is your skin, temper only your great-coat.”
+ And the old lawyer laughed heartily at his own conceit. “But here comes
+the postman.”
+
+The double knock had scarcely reverberated through the spacious hall
+when the servant entered with a letter.
+
+“Ah! Barry Martin's hand. What have we here?” said Repton, as he ran his
+eyes over it. “So-so; just as I was saying this minute, only that Barry
+has the good sense to see it himself. 'My nephew,' he writes, 'has his
+own ideas on all these subjects, which are not mine; and as it is no
+part of my plan to hamper my gift with conditions that might impair its
+value, I mean to leave this at once.
+
+“'I have had my full share of calamity since I set foot in this land;
+and if this rugged old nature could be crushed by mere misfortune, the
+last two months might have done it. But no, Repton, the years by which
+we survive friends serve equally to make us survive affections, and we
+live on, untouched by time!
+
+“'I mean to be with you this evening. Let us dine alone together, for I
+have much to say to you.
+
+“' Yours ever,
+
+“'Barry Martin.
+
+“'I hope I may see Massingbred before I sail. I 'd like to shake hands
+with him once again. Say so to him, at all events.'”
+
+“Come in to-morrow to breakfast,” said Repton; “by that time we'll have
+finished all mere business affairs.” And Massingbred having assented,
+they parted.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXIX. TOWARDS THE END
+
+Repton was standing at his parlor window, anxiously awaiting his
+friend's arrival, when the chaise with four posters came to the door.
+“What have we here?” said the old lawyer to himself, as Barry assisted
+a lady dressed in deep mourning to alight, and hurried out to receive
+them.
+
+“I have not come alone, Repton,” said the other. “I have brought my
+daughter with me.” Before Repton could master his amazement at these
+words, she had thrown back her veil, revealing the well-known features
+of Kate Henderson.
+
+“Is this possible?--is this really the case?” cried Repton, as he
+grasped her hand between both his own. “Do I, indeed, see one I have so
+long regarded and admired, as the child of my old friend?”
+
+“Fate, that dealt me so many heavy blows of late, had a kindness in
+reserve for me, after all,” said Barry. “I am not to be quite alone in
+this world!”
+
+“If _you_ be grateful, what ought not to be _my_ thankfulness?” said
+Kate, tremulously.
+
+“Leave us for a moment together, Kate,” said Barry; and taking Repton's
+arm, he led him into an inner room.
+
+“I have met with many a sore cut from fortune, Repton,” said he, in the
+fierce tone that was most natural to him; “the nearest and dearest to
+me not the last to treat me harshly. I need not tell you how I have been
+requited in life; not, indeed, that I seek to acquit myself of my own
+share of ill. My whole career has been a fault; it could not bring other
+fruit than misery.” He paused, and for a while seemed laboring in strong
+emotion. At last he went on:--
+
+“When that girl was born--it was two years before I married--I intrusted
+the charge of her to Henderson, who placed her with a sister
+of his in Bruges. I made arrangements for her maintenance and
+education,--liberally for one as poor as I was. I made but one condition
+about her. It was that under no circumstances save actual want should
+she ever be reduced to earn her own bread; but if the sad hour did come,
+never--as had been her poor mothers fate--never as a governess! It was
+in that fearful struggle of condition I first knew her. I continued,
+year after year, to hear of her; remitting regularly the sums I
+promised,--doubling, tripling them, when fortune favored me with a
+chance prosperity. The letters spoke of her as well and happy, in humble
+but sufficient circumstances, equally remote from privation as from the
+seductions of a more exalted state. I insisted eagerly on my original
+condition, and hoped some day to hear of her being married to
+some honest but humble man. It was not often that I had time for
+self-reproach; but when such seasons would beset me, I thought of this
+girl, and her poor mother long dead and gone--But let me finish. While I
+struggled--and it was often a hard struggle--to maintain my side of the
+compact, selling at ruinous loss acquisitions it had cost me years of
+labor to obtain, this fellow, this Henderson, was basely betraying the
+trust I placed in him! The girl, for whose protection, whose safety
+I was toiling, was thrown by him into the very world for which I had
+distinctly excepted her; her talents, her accomplishments, her very
+graces, farmed out and hired for his own profit! Launched into the very
+sea where her own mother met shipwreck, she was a mere child, sent to
+thread her way through the perils of the most dissipated society. Hear
+her own account of it, Repton. Let _her_ tell you what is the tone of
+that high life to which foreign nobility imparts its fascinations. Not
+that I want to make invidious comparisons; our own country sends its
+high tributaries to every vice of Europe! I know not what accident saved
+her amidst this pollution. Some fancied theory of popular wrongs, she
+thinks, gave her a kind of factitious heroism; elevating her, at least
+to her own mind, above the frivolous corruptions around her. She was a
+democrat, to rescue her from being worse.
+
+“At last came a year of unusual pressure; my remittance was delayed, but
+when sent was never acknowledged. From that hour out I never heard of
+her. How she came into my brother's family, you yourself know. What was
+her life there, she has told me! Not in any spirit of complaint,--nay,
+she acknowledges to many kindnesses and much trust. Even my cold
+sister-in-law showed traits for which I had not given her credit. I have
+already forgotten her wrongs towards myself, in requital of her conduct
+to this poor girl.”
+
+“I'll spare you the scene with Henderson, Repton,” said he, after a long
+pause. “When the fellow told me that the girl was the same I had seen
+watching by another's sickbed, that she it was whose never-ceasing cares
+had soothed the last hours of one dearer than herself, I never gave
+another thought to him. I rushed out in search of her, to tell her
+myself the tidings.”
+
+“How did she hear it?” asked Repton, eagerly.
+
+“More calmly than I could tell it. Her first words were, 'Thank God for
+this, for I never could love that man I had called my father!'”
+
+“She knows, then, every circumstance of her birth?”
+
+“I told her everything. We know each other as well as though we had
+lived under the same roof for years. She is my own child in every
+sentiment and feeling. She is frank and fearless, Repton,--two qualities
+that will do well enough in the wild savannahs of the New World, but
+would be unmanageable gifts in the Old, and thither we are bound. I have
+written to Liverpool about a ship, and we shall sail on Saturday.”
+
+“How warmly do I sympathize in this your good fortune, Martin!” said
+Repton. “She is a noble creature, and worthy of belonging to you.”
+
+“I ask for nothing more, Repton,” said he, solemnly. “Fortune and
+station, such as they exist here, I have no mind for! I'm too old now
+to go to school about party tactics and politics; I'm too stubborn,
+besides, to yield up a single conviction for the sake of unity with a
+party,--so much for my unfitness for public life. As to private, I am
+rough and untrained; the forms of society so pleasant to others would be
+penalties to _me_. And then,” said he, rising, and drawing up his figure
+to its full height, “I love the forest and the prairie; I glory in the
+vastness of a landscape where the earth seems boundless as the sky, and
+where, if I hunt down a buffalo-ox, after twenty miles of a chase,
+I have neither a game-law nor a gamekeeper nor a charge of trespass
+hanging over me.”
+
+“There's some one knocking at the door,” said Repton, as he arose and
+opened it.
+
+“A thousand pardons for this interruption,” said Mas-singbred, in a low
+and eager voice, “but I cannot keep my promise to you; I cannot defer my
+journey to the West. I start to-night. Don't ask me the reasons. I 'll
+be free enough to give them if they justify me.”
+
+“But here is one who wishes to shake hands with you, Massingbred,” said
+Repton, as he led him forward into the room.
+
+“I hope you are going to keep your pledge with me, though,” said Barry.
+“Have you forgotten you have promised to be my guest over the sea?”
+
+“Ah,” said Jack, sighing, “I 've had many a day-dream of late!”
+
+“The man's in love,” said Repton. “Nay, prisoner, you are not called on
+to say what may criminate you. I 'll tell you what, Barry, you 'll do
+the boy good service by taking him along with you. There 's a healthful
+sincerity in the active life of the New World well fitted to dispel
+illusions that take their rise in the indolent voluptuousness of the
+Old. Carry him off then, I say; accept no excuses nor apologies. Send
+him away to buy powder and shot, leather gaiters, and the rest of it.
+When I saw him first myself, it was in the character of a poacher, and
+he filled the part well. Ah! he is gone,” added he, perceiving that
+Martin had just quitted the room. “Poor fellow, he is so full of his
+present happiness,--the first gleam of real sunshine on a long day of
+lowering gloom! He has just found a daughter,--an illegitimate one, but
+worthy to be the rightful-born child to the first man in the land. The
+discovery has carried him back twenty years of life, and freshened a
+heart whose wells of feeling were all but dried up forever. If I mistake
+not, you must have met her long ago at Cro' Martin.”
+
+“Possibly. I have no recollection of it,” said Jack, musing.
+
+“An ignoble confession, sir,” said Repton; “no less shocked should I
+be were she to tell me she was uncertain if she had ever met Mr.
+Massingbred. As Burke once remarked to me, 'Active intelligences,
+like appropriate ingredients in chemistry, never meet without fresh
+combinations.' It is then a shame to ignore such products. I 'd swear
+that when you did meet you understood each other thoroughly; agreed
+well,--ay, and what is more to the purpose, differed in the right places
+too.”
+
+“I'm certain we did,” said Jack, smiling, “though I'm ungrateful enough
+to forget all about it.”
+
+“Well,” said Martin, entering, “I have sent for another advocate to
+plead my cause. My daughter will tell you, sir, that she, at least, is
+not afraid to encounter the uncivilized glens beside the Orinoco. Come
+in, Kate. You tell me that you and Mr. Massingbred are old friends.”
+
+Massingbred started as he heard the name, looked up, and there stood
+Kate before him, with her hand extended in welcome.
+
+“Good heavens! what is this? Am I in a dream? Can this be real?” cried
+Jack, pressing his hands to his temples, and trembling from head to foot
+in the intensity of his anxiety.
+
+“My father tells me of an invitation he has given you, Mr. Massingbred,”
+ said she, smiling faintly at his embarrassment, “and asks me to repeat
+it; but I know far better than he does all that you would surrender by
+exile from the great world wherein you are destined to eminence. The
+great debater, the witty conversationalist, the smart reviewer, might
+prove but a sorry trapper, and even a bad shot! I have my scruples,
+then, about supporting a cause where my conscience does not go along
+with me.”
+
+“My head on't, but he 'll like the life well,” said Barry, half
+impatiently.
+
+“Am I to think that you will not ask me to be your guest?” said Jack, in
+a whisper, only audible by Kate.
+
+“I have not said so,” said she, in the same low tone. “Will you go
+further, Kate,” muttered he, in tremulous eagerness, “and say, 'Come'?”
+ “Yes!” said she. “Come!”
+
+[Illustration: 410]
+
+“I accept!” cried Jack, rushing over, and grasping Martin's hands
+between his own. “I 'm ready,--this hour, this instant, if you like it.”
+
+“We find the prisoner guilty, my Lords,” said Repton; “but we recommend
+him to mercy, as his manner on this occasion convinces us it is a first
+offence.”
+
+We have now done with the Martins of Cro' Martin. Should any of our
+readers feel a curiosity as to the future fortunes of the estate, its
+story, like that of many another Irish property, is written in the
+Encumbered Estates Court. Captain Martin only grew wiser by the especial
+experience of one class of difficulties. His indolent, easy disposition
+and a taste for expense led him once again into embarrassments from
+which there was but one issue,--the sale of his property. He has still,
+however, a handsome subsistence remaining, and lives with Lady Dorothea,
+notable and somewhat distinguished residents of a city on the Continent.
+
+We cannot persuade ourselves that we have inspired interest for the
+humbler characters of our piece. Nor dare we ask the reader to hear
+more about Mrs. Cronan and her set, nor learn how Kilkieran fared in the
+changes around it.
+
+For Joseph Nelligan, however, we claim a parting word. He was the first
+of an order of men who have contributed no small share to the great
+social revolution of Ireland in late years. With talents fully equal
+to the best in the opposite scale of party, and a character above all
+reproach, he stood a rebuking witness to all the taunts and sarcasms
+once indiscriminately levelled at his class; and, at the same time,
+inspired his own party with the happy knowledge that there was a nobler
+and more legitimate road to eminence than by factious display and
+popular declamation.
+
+We do not wish to inquire how far the one great blow to his
+happiness--the disappointment of his early life--contributed to his
+success by concentrating his ambition on his career. Certain is it,
+no man achieved a higher or more rapid elevation, and old Dan lived
+to receive at his board the Chief Justice of the Queen's Bench in the
+person of his own son.
+
+Poor Simmy Crow! for if we would forget him, he has taken care that
+oblivion is not to be his fate. He has sent from the Rocky Mountains,
+where he is now wandering with Barry Martin, some sketches of Indian
+Life to the Irish Art Exhibition.
+
+If it be a pleasure to trace in our friends the traits we have admired
+in them in youth, and remark the embers of the fires that once wanned
+their hearts, Simmy affords us this gratification, since his drawings
+reveal the inspirations that first filled his early mind. The Chief
+in his war-paint has a fac-simile likeness to his St. John in the
+Wilderness; and as for the infant the squaw is bathing in the stream, we
+can produce twelve respectable witnesses to depose that it is “Moses.”
+
+We are much tempted to add a word about the Exiles themselves, but
+we abstain. It is enough to say that all the attractive prospects of
+ambition held out by friends, all the seductions of generous offers from
+family, have never tempted them to return to the Old World; but that
+they live on happily, far away from the jarring collisions of life, the
+tranquil existence they had longed for.
+
+THE END.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Martins Of Cro' Martin, Vol. II
+(of II), by Charles James Lever
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+The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Martins Of Cro' Martin, Vol. II (of II), by 
+Charles James Lever
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: The Martins Of Cro' Martin, Vol. II (of II)
+
+Author: Charles James Lever
+
+Illustrator: Phiz.
+
+Release Date: February 2, 2011 [EBook #35144]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE MARTINS OF CRO' MARTIN ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by David Widger
+
+
+
+
+
+
+THE MARTINS OF CRO' MARTIN
+
+By Charles Lever
+
+With Illustrations By Phiz.
+
+In Two Volumes
+
+Vol. II.
+
+Boston: Little, Brown, And Company.
+
+1906
+
+
+
+
+THE MARTINS OF CRO' MARTIN.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER I. MR. HERMAN MERL
+
+This much-abused world of ours, railed at by divines, sneered down by
+cynics, slighted by philosophers, has still some marvellously pleasant
+things about it, amongst which, first and foremost, _facile princeps_,
+is Paris! In every other city of Europe there is a life to be learned
+and acquired just like a new language. You have to gain the acquaintance
+of certain people, obtain admission to certain houses, submit yourself
+to ways, habits, hours, all peculiar to the locality, and conform to
+usages in which--at first, at least--you rarely find anything beyond
+penalties on your time and your patience. But Paris demands no such
+sacrifices. To enjoy it, no apprenticeship is required. You become
+free of the guild at the Porte St. Denis. By the time you reach the
+Boulevards you have ceased to be a stranger. You enter the "Fr�res" at
+dinner hour like an old habitu�. The atmosphere of light, elastic gayety
+around you, the tone of charming politeness that meets your commonest
+inquiry, the courtesy bestowed upon your character as a foreigner, are
+all as exhilarating in their own way as your sparkling glass of Mo�t,
+sipped in the window, from which you look down on plashing fountains,
+laughing children, and dark-eyed grisettes! The whole thing, in its
+bustle and movement, its splendor, sunlight, gilded furniture,
+mirrors, and smart toilettes, is a piece of natural magic, with this
+difference,--that its effect is ever new, ever surprising!
+
+Sad and sorrowful faces are, of course, to be met with, since grief has
+its portion everywhere; but that air of languid indifference, that
+look of wearied endurance, which we characterize by the classic term of
+"boredom," is, indeed, a rare spectacle in this capital; and yet now
+at the window of a splendid apartment in the Place Vend�me, listlessly
+looking down into the square beneath, stood a young man, every line
+of whose features conveyed this same expression. He had, although not
+really above twenty-four or twenty-five, the appearance of one ten
+years older. On a face of singular regularity, and decidedly handsome,
+dissipation had left its indelible traces. The eyes were deep sunk,
+the cheeks colorless, and around the angles of the mouth were those
+tell-tale circles which betray the action of an oft-tried temper, and
+the spirit that has gone through many a hard conflict. In figure he was
+very tall, and seemed more so in the folds of a long dressing-gown
+of antique brocade, which reached to his feet; a small, dark green
+skull-cap, with a heavy silver tassel, covered one side of his head, and
+in his hand he held a handsome meerschaum, which, half mechanically, he
+placed from time to time to his lips, although its bowl was empty.
+
+At a breakfast-table covered with all that could provoke appetite, sat a
+figure as much unlike him as could be. He was under the middle size,
+and slightly inclined to flesh, with a face which, but for some strange
+resemblance to what one has seen in pictures by the older artists, would
+have been unequivocally vulgar. The eyes were small, keen, and furtive;
+the nose, slightly concave in its outline, expanded beneath into
+nostrils wide and full; but the mouth, thick-lipped, sensual, and
+coarse, was more distinctive than all, and showed that Mr. Herman Merl
+was a gentleman of the Jewish persuasion,--a fact well corroborated by
+the splendor of a very flashy silk waistcoat, and various studs, gold
+chain, rings, and trinkets profusely scattered over his costume. And
+yet there was little of what we commonly recognize as the Jew in the
+character of his face. The eyes were not dark, the nose not aquiline;
+the hair, indeed, had the wavy massiveness of the Hebrew race; but Mr.
+Merl was a "Red Jew," and the Red Jew, like the red partridge, is a
+species _per se_.
+
+[Illustration: 018]
+
+There was an ostentatious pretension in the "get up" of this gentleman.
+His moustache, his beard, his wrist-buttons, his shirt-studs, the
+camellia in his coat,--all, even to the heels of his boots, had been
+made studies, either to correct a natural defect, or show off what he
+fancied a natural advantage. He seemed to have studied color like a
+painter, for his dark brown frock was in true keeping with the tint
+of his skin; and yet, despite these painstaking efforts, the man was
+indelibly, hopelessly vulgar. Everything about him was imitation, but it
+was imitation that only displayed its own shortcomings.
+
+"I wonder how you can resist these oysters, Captain," said he, as he
+daintily adjusted one of these delicacies on his fork; "and the Chablis,
+I assure you, is excellent."
+
+"I never eat breakfast," said the other, turning away from the window,
+and pacing the room with slow and measured tread.
+
+"Why, you are forgetting all the speculations that used to amuse us
+on the voyage,--the delicious little dinners we were to enjoy at the
+'Rocher,' the tempting dejeuners at 'V�four's.' By Jove! how hungry you
+used to make me, with your descriptions of the appetizing fare before
+us; and here we have it now: Ardennes ham, fried in champagne; Ostend
+oysters, salmi of quails with truffles--and such truffles! Won't that
+tempt you?"
+
+But his friend paid no attention to the appeal, and walking again to the
+window, looked out.
+
+"Those little drummers yonder have a busy day of it," said he, lazily;
+"that's the fourth time they have had to beat the salute to Generals
+this morning."
+
+"Is there anything going on, then?"
+
+But he never deigned an answer, and resumed his walk.
+
+"I wish you'd send away that hissing teakettle, it reminds me of a
+steamboat," said the Captain, peevishly; "that is, if you have done with
+it."
+
+"So it does," said the other, rising to ring the bell; "there's the same
+discordant noise, and the--the--the--" But the rest of the similitude
+would n't come, and Mr. Merl covered his retreat with the process of
+lighting a cigar,--an invaluable expedient that had served to aid many a
+more ready debater in like difficulty.
+
+It would be a somewhat tedious, perhaps not a very profitable task, to
+inquire how two men, so palpably dissimilar, had thus become what the
+world calls friends. Enough if we say that Captain Martin,--the heir of
+Cro' Martin,--when returning from India on leave, passed some time at
+the Cape, where, in the not very select society of the place, he met Mr.
+Merl. Now Mr. Merl had been at Ceylon, where he had something to do with
+a coffee plantation; and he had been at Benares, where opium interested
+him; and now again, at the Cape, a question of wine had probably some
+relation to his sojourn. In fact, he was a man travelling about the
+world with abundance of leisure, a well-stocked purse, and what our
+friends over the Strait would term an "industrial spirit." Messes had
+occasionally invited him to their tables. Men in society got the habit
+of seeing him "about," and he was in the enjoyment of that kind of
+tolerance which made every man feel, "He's not _my_ friend,--_I_ didn't
+introduce him; but he seems a good sort of fellow enough!" And so he
+was,--very good-tempered, very obliging, most liberal of his cigars,
+his lodgings always open to loungers, with pale ale, and even iced
+champagne, to be had |for asking. There was play, too; and although Merl
+was a considerable winner, he managed never to incur the jealous enmity
+that winning so often imposes. He was the most courteous of gamblers; he
+never did a sharp thing; never enforced a strict rule upon a novice of
+the game; tolerated every imaginable blunder of his partner with bland
+equanimity; and, in a word, if this great globe of ours had been a
+green-baize cloth, and all the men and women whist-players, Mr. Herman
+Merl had been the first gentleman in it, and carried off "all the
+honors" in his own hand.
+
+If he was highly skilled in every game, it was remarked of him that he
+never proposed play himself, nor was he ever known to make a wager: he
+always waited to be asked to make up a party, or to take or give the
+odds, as the case might be. To a very shrewd observer, this might have
+savored a little too much of a system; but shrewd observers are, after
+all, not the current coin in the society of young men, and Merl's
+conduct was eminently successful.
+
+Merl suited Martin admirably. Martin was that species of man which,
+of all others, is most assailable by flattery. A man of small
+accomplishments, he sang a little, rode a little, played, drew, fenced,
+fished, shot--all, a little--that is, somewhat better than others in
+general, and giving him that dangerous kind of pre-eminence from which,
+though the tumble never kills, it occurs often enough to bruise and
+humiliate. But, worse than this, it shrouds its possessor in a triple
+mail of vanity, that makes him the easy prey of all who minister to it.
+
+We seldom consider how much locality influences our intimacies, and how
+impossible it had been for us even to know in some places the people we
+have made friends of in another. Harry Martin would as soon have thought
+of proposing his valet at "Brookes's," as walk down Bond Street with Mr.
+Merl. Had he met him in London, every characteristic of the man would
+there have stood out in all the strong glare of contrast, but at the
+Cape it was different. Criticism would have been misplaced where all was
+irregular, and the hundred little traits--any one of which would have
+shocked him in England--were only smiled at as the eccentricities of a
+"good-natured poor fellow, who had no harm in him."
+
+Martin and Merl came to England in the same ship. It was a sudden
+thought of Merl's, only conceived the evening before she sailed; but
+Martin had lost a considerable sum at piquet to him on that night, and
+when signing the acceptances for payment, since he had not the ready
+money, somewhat peevishly remarked that it was hard he should not have
+his revenge. Whereupon Merl, tossing off a bumper of champagne, and
+appearing to speak under the influence of its stimulation, cried out,
+"Hang me, Captain, if you shall say that! I 'll go and take my passage
+in the 'Elphinstone.'" And he did so, and he gave the Captain his
+revenge! But of all the passions, there is not one less profitable to
+indulge in. They played morning, noon, and night, through long days of
+sickening calm, through dreary nights of storm and hurricane, and they
+scarcely lifted their heads at the tidings that the Needles were in
+sight, nor even questioned the pilot for news of England, when he
+boarded them in the Downs. Martin had grown much older during that same
+voyage; his temper, too, usually imbued with the easy indolence of his
+father's nature, had grown impatient and fretful. A galling sense of
+inferiority to Merl poisoned every minute of his life. He would not
+admit it; he rejected it, but back it came; and if it did not enter into
+his heart, it stood there knocking,--knocking for admission. Each time
+they sat down to play was a perfect duel to Martin.
+
+As for Merl, his well-schooled faculties never were ruffled nor excited.
+The game had no power to fascinate _him_, its vicissitudes had nothing
+new or surprising to him; intervals of ill-luck, days even of dubious
+fortune might occur, but he knew he would win in the end, just as
+he knew that though there might intervene periods of bad weather and
+adverse winds, the good ship "Elphinstone" would arrive at last, and, a
+day sooner or a day later, discharge passengers and freight on the banks
+of the Thames.
+
+You may forgive the man who has rivalled you in love, the banker whose
+"smash" has engulfed all your fortune, the violent political antagonist
+who has assailed you personally, and in the House, perhaps, answered the
+best speech you ever made by a withering reply. You may extend feelings
+of Christian charity to the reviewer who has "slashed" your new novel,
+the lawyer whose vindictive eloquence has exposed, the artist in "Punch"
+who has immortalized, you; but there is one man you never forgive, of
+whom you will never believe one good thing, and to whom you would wish a
+thousand evil ones,--he is your natural enemy, brought into the world
+to be your bane, born that he may be your tormentor; and this is the man
+who _always_ beats you at play! Happily, good reader, you may have no
+feelings of the gambler,--you may be of those to whom this fatal vice
+has never appealed, or appealed in vain; but if you _have_ "played," or
+even mixed with those who have, you could n't have failed to be struck
+with the fact that there is that one certain man from whom you never
+win! Wherever he is, there, too, is present your evil destiny! Now,
+there is no pardoning this,--the double injury of insult to your skill
+and damage to your pocket. Such a man as this becomes at last your
+master. You may sneer at his manners, scoff at his abilities, ridicule
+his dress, laugh at his vulgarity,--poor reprisals these! In his
+presence, the sense of that one superiority he possesses over you makes
+you quail! In the stern conflict, where your destiny and your capacity
+seem alike at issue, he conquers you,--not to-day or to-morrow, but ever
+and always! There he sits, arbiter of your fate,--only doubtful how long
+he may defer the day of your sentence!
+
+It is something in the vague indistinctness of this power--something
+that seems to typify the agency of the Evil One himself--that at once
+tortures and subdues you; and you ever hurry into fresh conflict with
+the ever-present consciousness of fresh defeat! We might have spared our
+reader this discursive essay, but that it pertains to our story. Such
+was the precise feeling entertained by Martin towards Merl. He hated
+him with all the concentration of his great hatred, and yet he could not
+disembarrass himself of his presence. He was ashamed of the man amongst
+his friends; he avoided him in all public places; he shrunk from
+his very contact as though infected; but he could not throw off his
+acquaintance, and he nourished in his heart a small ember of hope that
+one day or other the scale of fortune would turn, and he might win back
+again all he had ever lost, and stand free and unembarrassed as in the
+first hour he had met him! Fifty times had he consulted Fortune, as
+it were, to ask if this moment had yet arrived; but hitherto ever
+unsuccessfully,--Merl won on as before. Martin, however, invariably
+ceased playing when he discovered that his ill-luck continued. It was
+an experiment,--a mere pilot balloon to Destiny; and when he saw the
+direction adverse, he did not adventure on the grand ascent. It was
+impossible that a man of Merl's temperament and training should not have
+detected this game. There was not a phase of the gambler's mind with
+which he was not thoroughly familiar.
+
+Close intimacies, popularly called friendships, have always their
+secret motive, if we be but skilful enough to detect it. We see people
+associate together of widely different habits, and dispositions the most
+opposite, with nothing in common of station, rank, object, or pursuit.
+In such cases the riddle has always its key, could we only find it.
+
+Mr. Martin had been some weeks in Paris with his family, when a brief
+note informed him that Merl had arrived there. He despatched an answer
+still briefer, asking him to breakfast on the following morning; and it
+was in the acceptance of this same invitation we have now seen him.
+
+"Who's here just now?" said Merl, throwing down his napkin, and pushing
+his chair a little back from the table, while he disposed his short, fat
+legs into what he fancied was a most graceful attitude.
+
+"Here? Do you mean in Paris?" rejoined Martin, pettishly,--for he never
+suffered so painfully under this man's intimacy as when his manners
+assumed the pretension of fashion.
+
+"Yes,--of course,--I mean, who's in Paris?"
+
+"There are, I believe, about forty-odd thousand of our countrymen and
+countrywomen," said the other, half contemptuously.
+
+"Oh, I've no doubt; but my question took narrower bounds. I meant, who
+of _our_ set,--who of us?"
+
+Martin turned round, and fixing his eyes on him, scanned him from head
+to foot with a gaze of such intense insolence as no words could have
+equalled. For a while the Jew bore it admirably; but these efforts,
+after all, are only like the brief intervals a man can live under water,
+and where the initiated beats the inexperienced only by a matter of
+seconds. As Martin continued his stare, Merl's cheek tingled, grew red,
+and finally his whole face and forehead became scarlet.
+
+With an instinct like that of a surgeon who feels he has gone deep
+enough with his knife, Martin resumed his walk along the room without
+uttering a word.
+
+Merl opened the newspaper, and affected to read; his hand, however,
+trembled, and his eyes wandered listlessly over the columns, and then
+furtively were turned towards Martin as he paced the chamber in silence.
+
+"Do you think you can manage that little matter for me, Captain?" said
+he at last, and in a voice attuned to its very humblest key.
+
+"What little matter? Those two bills do you mean?" said Martin,
+suddenly.
+
+"Not at all. I 'm not the least pressed for cash. I alluded to the Club;
+you promised you 'd put me up, and get one of your popular friends to
+second me."
+
+"I remember," said Martin, evidently relieved from a momentary terror.
+"Lord Claude Willoughby or Sir Spencer Cavendish would be the men if we
+could find them."
+
+"Lord Claude, I perceive, is here; the paper mentions his name in the
+dinner company at the Embassy yesterday."
+
+"Do you know him?" asked Martin, with an air of innocence that Merl well
+comprehended as insult.
+
+"No. We 've met,--I think we 've played together; I remember once at
+Baden--"
+
+"Lord Claude Willoughby, sir," said a servant, entering with a card,
+"desires to know if you 're at home?"
+
+"And won't be denied if you are not," said his Lordship, entering at the
+same instant, and saluting Martin with great cordiality.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER II. MR. MERL
+
+The French have invented a slang word for a quality that deserves a
+more recognized epithet, and by the expression _chic_ have designated
+a certain property by which objects assert their undoubted superiority
+over all their counterfeits. Thus, your coat from Nugee's, your carriage
+from Leader's, your bracelet from Storr's, and your bonnet from Madame
+Palmyre, have all their own peculiar _chic_, or, in other words, possess
+a certain invisible, indescribable essence that stamps them as the best
+of their kind, with an excellence unattainable by imitation, and a charm
+all their own!
+
+Of all the products in which this magical property insinuates itself,
+there is not one to which it contributes so much as the man of fashion.
+He is the very type of _chic_. To describe him you are driven to
+a catalogue of negatives, and you only arrive at anything like a
+resemblance by an enumeration of the different things he is not.
+
+The gentleman who presented himself to Martin at the close of our
+last chapter was in many respects a good specimen of his order. He had
+entered the room, believing Martin to be there alone; but no sooner had
+he perceived another, and that other one not known to him, than all
+the buoyant gayety of his manner was suddenly toned down into a
+quiet seriousness; while, taking his friend's arm, he said in a low
+voice,--"If you 're busy, my dear Martin, don't hesitate for a moment
+about sending me off; I had not the slightest suspicion there was any
+one with you."
+
+"Nor is there," said Martin, with a supercilious glance at Merl, who
+was endeavoring in a dozen unsuccessful ways to seem unaware of the new
+arrival's presence.
+
+"I want to introduce him to you," said Martin.
+
+"No, no, my dear friend, on no account."
+
+"I must; there's no help for it," said Martin, impatiently, while he
+whispered something eagerly in the other's ear.
+
+"Well, then, some other day; another time--"
+
+"Here and now, Claude," said Martin, peremptorily; while, without
+waiting for reply, he said aloud, "Merl, I wish to present you to Lord
+Claude Willoughby,--Lord Claude, Mr. Herman Merl."
+
+Merl bowed and smirked and writhed as his Lordship, with a bland smile
+and a very slight bow, acknowledged the presentation.
+
+"Had the pleasure of meeting your Lordship at Baden two summers ago,"
+said the Jew, with an air meant to be the ideal of fashionable ease.
+
+"I was at Baden at the time you mention," said he, coldly.
+
+"I used to watch your Lordship's game with great attention; you won
+heavily, I think?"
+
+"I don't remember, just now," said he, carelessly; not, indeed, that
+such was the fact, or that he desired it should be thought so; he only
+wished to mark his sense of what he deemed an impertinence.
+
+"The man who can win at rouge-et-noir can do anything, in my opinion,"
+said Merl.
+
+"What odds are you taking on Rufus?" said Martin to Willoughby, and
+without paying the slightest attention to Merl's remark.
+
+"Eleven to one; but I'll not take it again. Hecuba is rising hourly, and
+some say she 'll be the favorite yet."
+
+"Is Rufus your Lordship's horse?" said the Jew, insinuatingly.
+
+Willoughby bowed, and continued to write in his note-book.
+
+"And you said the betting was eleven to one on the field, my Lord?"
+
+"It ought to be fourteen to one, at least."
+
+"I 'll give you fourteen to one, my Lord, just for the sake of a little
+interest in the race."
+
+Willoughby ceased writing, and looked at him steadfastly for a second or
+two. "I have not said that the odds were fourteen to one."
+
+"I understand you perfectly, my Lord; you merely thought that they would
+be, or, at least, ought to be."
+
+"Merl wants a bet with you, in fact," said Martin, as he applied alight
+to his meerschaum; "and if you won't have him, I will."
+
+"What shall it be, sir," said Lord Claude, pencil in hand; "in
+ponies--fifties?"
+
+"Oh, ponies, my Lord. I only meant it, just as I said, to give me
+something to care for in the race."
+
+"Will you put him up at the 'Cercle' after that?" whispered Martin, with
+a look of sly malice.
+
+"I'll tell you when the match is over," said Willoughby, laughing;
+"but if I won't, here 's one that will. That's a neat phaeton of
+Cavendish's." And at the same instant Martin opened the window, and made
+a signal with his handkerchief.
+
+"That's the thing for _you_, Merl," said Martin, pointing down to a
+splendid pair of dark chestnuts harnessed to a handsome phaeton. "It's
+worth five hundred pounds to any fellow starting an equipage to chance
+upon one of Cavendish's. He has not only such consummate taste in
+carriage and harness, but he makes his nags perfection."
+
+"He drives very neatly," said Willoughby.
+
+"What was it he gave for that near-side horse?--a thousand pounds, I
+think."
+
+"Twelve hundred and fifty, and refused a hundred for my bargain," said
+a very diminutive, shrewd-looking man of about five-and-thirty, who
+entered the room with great affectation of juvenility. "I bought him for
+a cab, never expecting to 'see his like again,' as Shakspeare says."
+
+"And you offered the whole concern yesterday to Damre-mont for fifty
+thousand francs?"
+
+"No, Harry, that's a mistake. I said I 'd play him a match at piquet,
+whether he gave seventy thousand for the equipage or nothing. It was he
+that proposed fifty thousand. Mine was a handsome offer, I think."
+
+"I call it a most munificent one," said Martin. "By the way, you don't
+know my friend here, Mr. Merl, Sir Spencer Cavendish." And the baronet
+stuck his glass in his eye, and scanned the stranger as unscrupulously
+as though he were a hack at Tattersairs.
+
+"Where did he dig him up, Claude?" whispered he, after a second.
+
+"In India, I fancy; or at the Cape."
+
+"That fellow has something to do with the hell in St. James's Street; I
+'ll swear I know his face."
+
+[Illustration: 029]
+
+"I 've been telling Merl that he 's in rare luck to find such a turn-out
+as that in the market; that is, if you still are disposed to sell."
+
+"Oh, yes, I'll sell it; give him the tiger, boots, cockade, and
+all,--everything except that Skye terrier. You shall have the whole,
+sir, for two thousand pounds; or, if you prefer it--"
+
+A certain warning look from Lord Claude suddenly arrested his words, and
+he added, after a moment,--"But I 'd rather sell it off, and think no
+more of it."
+
+"Try the nags; Sir Spencer, I'm sure, will have no objection," said
+Martin. But the baronet's face looked anything but concurrence with the
+proposal.
+
+"Take them a turn round the Bois de Boulogne, Merl," said Martin,
+laughing at his friend's distress.
+
+"And he may have the turn-out at his own price after the trial,"
+muttered Lord Claude, with a quiet smile.
+
+"Egad! I should think so," whispered Cavendish; "for, assuredly, I
+should never think of being seen in it again."
+
+"If Sir Spencer Cavendish has no objection,--if he would permit his
+groom to drive me just down the Boulevards and the Rue Rivoli--"
+
+The cool stare of the baronet did not permit him to finish. It was
+really a look far more intelligible than common observers might have
+imagined, for it conveyed something like recognition,--a faint approach
+to an intimation that said, "I 'm persuaded that we have met before."
+
+"Yes, that is the best plan. Let the groom have the ribbons," said
+Martin, laughing with an almost schoolboy enjoyment of a trick. "And
+don't lose time, Merl, for Sir Spencer would n't miss his drive in the
+Champs Elysees for any consideration."
+
+"Gentlemen, I am your very humble and much obliged servant!" said
+Cavendish, as soon as Merl had quitted the room. "If that distinguished
+friend of yours should not buy my carriage--"
+
+"But he will," broke in Martin; "he must buy it."
+
+"He ought, I think," said Lord Claude. "If I were in his place, there's
+only one condition I 'd stipulate for."
+
+"And that is--"
+
+"That you should drive with him one day--one would be enough--from the
+Barri�re de l'�toile to the Louvre."
+
+"This is all very amusing, gentlemen, most entertaining," said
+Cavendish, tartly; "but who is he?--I don't mean that,--but what is he?"
+
+"Martin's banker, I fancy," said Lord Claude.
+
+"Does he lend any sum from five hundred to twenty thousand on equitable
+terms on approved personal security?" said Cavendish, imitating the
+terms of the advertisements.
+
+"He 'll allow all he wins from you to remain in your hands at sixty per
+cent interest, if he doesn't want cash!" said Martin, angrily.
+
+"Oh, then, I 'm right. It is my little Moses of St. James's Street. He
+was n't always as flourishing as we see him now. Oh dear, if any man,
+three years back, had told me that this fellow would have proposed
+seating himself in my phaeton for a drive round Paris, I don't
+believe--nay, I 'm sure--my head couldn't have stood it."
+
+"You know him, then?" said Willoughby.
+
+"I should think every man about town a dozen years ago must know him.
+There was a kind of brood of these fellows; we used to call them Joseph
+and his brethren. One sold cigars, another vended maraschino; this
+discounted your bills, that took your plate or your horses--ay, or your
+wardrobe--on a bill of sale, and handed you over two hundred pounds to
+lose at his brother's hell in the evening. Most useful scoundrels they
+were,--equally expert on 'Change and in the Coulisses of the Opera!"
+
+"I will say this for him," said Martin, "he 's not a hard fellow to deal
+with; he does not drive a bargain ungenerously."
+
+"Your hangman is the tenderest fellow in the world," said Cavendish,
+"till the final moment. It's only in adjusting the last turn under the
+ear that he shows himself 'ungenerous.'"
+
+"Are you deep with him, Harry?" said Willoughby, who saw a sudden
+paleness come over Martin's face.
+
+"Too deep!" said he, with a bitter effort at a laugh,--"a great deal too
+deep."
+
+"We 're all too deep with those fellows," said Cavendish, as, stretching
+out his legs, he contemplated the shape and lustre of his admirably
+fitting boots. "One begins by some trumpery loan or so; thence you go
+on to a play transaction or a betting-book with them, and you end--egad,
+you end by having the fellow at dinner!"
+
+"Martin wants his friend to be put up for the Club," said Willoughby.
+
+"Eh, what? At the 'Cercle,' do you mean?"
+
+"Why not? Is it so very select?"
+
+"No, not exactly that; there are the due proportions of odd reputations,
+half reputations, and no reputations; but remember, Martin, that however
+black they be now, they all began white. When they started, at least,
+they were gentlemen."
+
+"I suspect that does not make the case much better."
+
+"No; but it makes _ours_ better, in associating with them. Come, come,
+you know as well as any one that this is impossible, and that if you
+should do it to-day, I should follow the lead to-morrow, and our
+Club become only an asylum for unpayable tailors and unappeasable
+bootmakers!"
+
+"You go too fast, sir," exclaimed Martin, in a tone of anger. "I never
+intended to pay my debts by a white ball in the ballot-box, nor do I
+think that Mr. Merl would relinquish his claim on some thousand
+pounds, even for the honor of being the club colleague of Sir Spencer
+Cavendish."
+
+"Then I know him better," said the other, tapping his-boot with his
+cane; "he would, and he 'd think it a right good bargain besides. From
+seeing these fellows at racecourses and betting-rooms, always cold,
+calm, and impassive, never depressed by ill-luck, as little elated
+by good, we fall into the mistake of esteeming them as a kind of
+philosophers in life, without any of those detracting influences that
+make you and Willoughby, and even myself, sometimes rash and headstrong.
+It is a mistake, though; they have a weakness,--and a terrible
+weakness,--which is, their passion to be thought in fashionable society.
+Yes, they can't resist that! All their shrewd calculations, all their
+artful schemes, dissolve into thin air, at the bare prospect of being
+recognized 'in society.' I have studied this flaw in them for many a
+year back. I 'll not say I haven't derived advantage from it."
+
+"And yet you 'd refuse him admission into a club," cried Martin.
+
+"Certainly. A club is a Democracy, where each man, once elected, is
+the equal of his neighbor. Society is, on the other hand, an absolute
+monarchy, where your rank flows from the fountain of honor,--the host.
+Take him along with you to her Grace's 'tea,' or my Lady's reception
+this evening, and see if the manner of the mistress of the house does
+not assign him his place, as certainly as if he were marshalled to it by
+a lackey. All his mock tranquillity and assumed ease of manner will not
+be proof against the icy dignity of a grande dame; but in the Club he's
+as good as the best, or he'll think so, which comes to the same thing."
+
+"Cavendish is right,--that is, as much so as he can be in anything,"
+said Willoughby, laughing. "Don't put him up, Martin."
+
+"Then what am I to do? I have given a sort of a pledge. He is not easily
+put off; he does not lightly relinquish an object."
+
+"Take him off the scent. Introduce him at the Embassy. Take him to the
+Courcelles."
+
+"This is intolerable," broke in Martin, angrily. "I ask for advice, and
+you reply by a sneer and a mockery."
+
+"Not at all. I never was more serious. But here he comes! Look only how
+the fellow lolls back in the phaeton. Just see how contemptuously he
+looks down on the foot-travellers. I'd lay on another hundred for that
+stare; for, assuredly, he has already made the purchase in his own
+mind."
+
+"Well, Merl, what do you say to Sir Spencer's taste in horseflesh?" said
+Martin, as he entered.
+
+"They 're nice hacks; very smart."
+
+"Nice hacks!" broke in Cavendish, "why, sir, they're both thoroughbred;
+the near horse is by Tiger out of a Crescent mare, and the off one won
+the Acton steeple-chase. When you said hacks, therefore, you made a
+cruel blunder."
+
+"Well, it's what a friend of mine called them just now," said Merl;
+"and remarked, moreover, that the large horse had been slightly fired on
+the--the--I forget the name he gave it."
+
+"You probably remember your friend's name better," said Cavendish,
+sneeringly. "Who was he, pray?"
+
+"Massingbred,--we call him Jack Massingbred; he's the Member for
+somewhere in Ireland."
+
+"Poor Jack!" muttered Cavendish, "how hard up he must be!"
+
+"But you like the equipage, Merl?" said Martin, who had a secret
+suspicion that it was now Cavendish's turn for a little humiliation.
+
+"Well, it's neat. The buggy--"
+
+"The buggy! By Jove, sir, you have a precious choice of epithets! Please
+to let me inform you that full-blooded horses are not called hacks, nor
+one of Leader's park-phaetons is not styled a buggy."
+
+Martin threw himself into a chair, and after a moment's struggle, burst
+out into a fit of laughter.
+
+"I think we may make a deal after all, Sir Spencer," said Merl, who
+accepted the baronet's correction with admirable self-control.
+
+"No, sir; perfectly impossible; take my word for it, any transaction
+would be difficult between us. Good-bye, Martin; adieu, Claude." And
+with this brief leave-taking the peppery Sir Spencer left the room, more
+flushed and fussy than he had entered it.
+
+"If you knew Sir Spencer Cavendish as long as we have known him, Mr.
+Merl," said Lord Claude, in his blandest of voices, "you'd not be
+surprised at this little display of warmth. It is the only weakness in a
+very excellent fellow."
+
+"I 'm hot, too, my Lord," said Merl, with the very slightest
+accentuation of the "initial H," "and he was right in saying that
+dealings would be difficult between us."
+
+"You mentioned Massingbred awhile ago, Merl. Why not ask him to second
+you at the Club?" said Martin, rousing himself suddenly from a train of
+thought.
+
+"Well, somehow, I thought that he and you did n't exactly pull together;
+that there was an election contest,--a kind of a squabble."
+
+"I 'm sure that _he_ never gave you any reason to suspect a coldness
+between us; I know that _I_ never did," said Martin, calmly. "We are but
+slightly acquainted, it is true, but I should be surprised to learn that
+there was any ill-feeling between us."
+
+"One's opponent at the hustings is pretty much the same thing as one's
+adversary at a game,--he is against you to-day, and may be your partner
+to-morrow; so that, putting even better motives aside, it were bad
+policy to treat him as an implacable enemy," said Lord Claude, with his
+accustomed suavity. "Besides, Mr. Merl, you know the crafty maxim of the
+French moralist, 'Always treat your enemies as though one day they were
+to become your friends.'" And with this commonplace, uttered in a tone
+and with a manner that gave it all the semblance of a piece of special
+advice, his Lordship took his hat, and, squeezing Martin's hand, moved
+towards the door.
+
+"Come in here for a moment," said Martin, pushing open the door into an
+adjoining dressing-room, and closing it carefully after them. "So much
+for wanting to do a good-natured thing," cried he, peevishly. "I thought
+to help Cavendish to get rid of those 'screws,' and the return he makes
+me is to outrage this man."
+
+"What are your dealings with him?" asked Willoughby� anxiously.
+
+"Play matters, play debts, loans, securities, post-obits, and every
+other blessed contrivance you can think of to swamp a man's present
+fortune and future prospects. I don't think he is a bad fellow; I mean,
+I don't suspect he 'd press heavily upon me, with any fair treatment on
+my part. My impression, in short, is that he'd forgive my not meeting
+his bill, but he 'd never get over my not inviting him to a dinner!"
+
+"Well," said Willoughby, encouragingly, "we live in admirable times for
+such practices. There used to be a vulgar prejudice in favor of men
+that one knew, and names that the world was familiar with. It is gone
+by entirely; and if you only present your friend--don't wince at the
+title--your friend, I say--as the rich Mr. Merl, the man who owns shares
+in mines, canals, and collieries, whose speculations count by tens of
+thousands, and whose credit rises to millions, you'll never be called on
+to apologize for his parts of speech, or make excuse for his solecisms
+in good breeding."
+
+"Will you put up his name, then, at the Club?" asked Martin, eagerly.
+"It would not do for _me_ to do so."
+
+"To be sure I will, and Massingbred shall be his seconder." And with
+this cheering pledge Lord Claude bade him good-bye, and left him free
+to return to Mr. Merl in the drawing-room. That gentleman had, however,
+already departed, to the no small astonishment of Martin, who now threw
+himself lazily down on a sofa, to ponder over his difficulties and weave
+all manner of impracticable schemes to meet them.
+
+They were, indeed, very considerable embarrassments. He had raised
+heavy sums at most exorbitant rates, and obtained money--for the
+play-table--by pledging valuable reversions of various kinds, for Merl
+somehow was the easiest of all people to deal with; one might have
+fancied that he lent his money only to afford himself an occasion of
+sympathy with the borrower, just as he professed that he merely
+betted "to have a little interest in the race." Whatever Martin, then,
+suggested in the way of security never came amiss; whether it were a
+farm, a mill, a quarry, or a lead mine, he accepted it at once, and, as
+Martin deemed, without the slightest knowledge or investigation, little
+suspecting that there was not a detail of his estate, nor a resource
+of his property, with which the wily Jew was not more familiar than
+himself. In fact, Mr. Merl was an astonishing instance of knowledge on
+every subject by which money was to be made, and he no more advanced
+loans upon an encumbered estate than he backed the wrong horse or
+bid for a copied picture. There is a species of practical information
+excessively difficult to describe, which is not connoisseurship, but
+which supplies the place of that quality, enabling him who possesses
+it to estimate the value of an object, without any admixture of those
+weakening prejudices which beset your mere man of taste. Now, Mr. Merl
+had no caprices about the color of the horse he backed, no more than
+for the winning seat at cards; he could not be warped from his true
+interests by any passing whim, and whether he cheapened a Correggio or
+discounted a bill, he was the same calm, dispassionate calculator of the
+profit to come of the transaction.
+
+Latterly, however, he had thrown out a hint to Martin that he was
+curious to see some of that property on which he had made such large
+advances; and this wish--which, according to the frame of mind he
+happened to be in at the moment, struck Martin as a mere caprice or a
+direct menace--was now the object of his gloomy reveries. We have
+not tracked his steps through the tortuous windings of his moneyed
+difficulties; it is a chapter in life wherein there is wonderfully
+little new to record; the Jew-lender and his associates, the renewed
+bill and the sixty per cent, the non-restored acceptances flitting about
+the world, sold and resold as damaged articles, but always in the end
+falling into the hands of a "most respectable party," and proceeded
+on as a true debt; then, the compromises for time, for silence, for
+secrecy,--since these transactions are rarely, if ever, devoid of some
+unhappy incident that would not bear publicity; and there are invariably
+little notes beginning "Dear Moses," which would argue most ill-chosen
+intimacies. These are all old stories, and the "Times" and the
+"Chronicle" are full of them. There is a terrible sameness about them,
+too. The dupe and the villain are stock characters that never change,
+and the incidents are precisely alike in every case. Humble folk, who
+are too low for fashionable follies, wonder how the self-same artifices
+have always the same success, and cannot conceal their astonishment at
+the innocence of our young men about town; and yet the mystery is
+easily solved. The dupe is, in these cases, just as unprincipled as
+his betrayer, and their negotiation is simply a game of skill, in which
+Israel is not always the winner.
+
+If we have not followed Martin's steps through these dreary labyrinths,
+it is because the path is a worn one; for the same reason, too, we
+decline to keep him company in his ponderings over them. All that his
+troubles had taught him was an humble imitation of the tricky natures of
+those he dealt with; so that he plotted and schemed and contrived, till
+his very head grew weary with the labor. And so we leave him.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER III. A YOUNG DUCHESS AND AN OLD FRIEND
+
+Like a vast number of people who have passed years in retirement, Lady
+Dorothea was marvellously disappointed with "the world" when she went
+back to it. It was not at all the kind of thing she remembered, or
+at least fancied it to be. There were not the old gradations of class
+strictly defined; there was not the old veneration for rank and station;
+"society" was invaded by hosts of unknown people, "names one had never
+heard of." The great stars of fashion of her own day had long since set,
+and the new celebrities had never as much as heard of her. The great
+houses of the Faubourg were there, it is true; but with reduced
+households and dimly lighted salons, they were but sorry representatives
+of the splendor her memory had invested them with.
+
+Now the Martins were installed in one of the finest apartments of the
+finest quarter in Paris. They were people of unquestionable station,
+they had ample means, lacked for none of the advantages which the world
+demands from those who seek its favors; and yet there they were, just as
+unknown, unvisited, and unsought after, as if they were the Joneses or
+the Smiths, "out" for a month's pleasuring on the Continent.
+
+A solitary invitation to the Embassy to dinner was not followed by any
+other attention; and so they drove along the Boulevards and through the
+Bois de Boulogne, and saw some thousands of gay, bright-costumed people,
+all eager for pleasure, all hurrying on to some scheme of amusement or
+enjoyment, while they returned moodily to their handsome quarter, as
+much excluded from all participation in what went on around them as
+though they were natives of Hayti.
+
+Martin sauntered down to the reading-room, hoping vainly to fall in with
+some one he knew. He lounged listlessly along the bright streets, till
+their very glare addled him; he stared at the thousand new inventions of
+luxury and ease the world had discovered since he had last seen it, and
+then he plodded gloomily homeward, to dine and listen to her Ladyship's
+discontented criticism upon the tiresome place and the odious people who
+filled it. Paris was, indeed, a deception and a snare to them! So
+far from finding it cheap, the expense of living--as they lived--was
+considerably greater than at London. It was a city abounding in
+luxuries, but all costly. The details which are in England reserved for
+days of parade and display, were here daily habits, and these were now
+to be indulged in with all the gloom of solitude and isolation.
+
+What wonder, then, if her Ladyship's temper was ruffled, and her
+equanimity unbalanced by such disappointments? In vain she perused the
+list of arrivals to find out some distinguished acquaintance; in vain
+she interrogated her son as to what was going on, and who were there.
+The Captain only frequented the club, and could best chronicle the names
+that were great at whist or illustrious at billiards.
+
+"It surely cannot be the season here," cried she, one morning,
+peevishly, "for really there isn't a single person one has ever heard of
+at Paris."
+
+"And yet this is a strong catalogue," cried the Captain, with a
+malicious twinkle in his eye. "Here are two columns of somebodies,
+who were present at Madame de Luygnes' last night."
+
+"You can always fill salons, if that be all," said she, angrily.
+
+"Yes, but not with Tour du Pins, Tavannes, Rochefoucaulds, Howards
+of Maiden, and Greys of Allington, besides such folk as Pahlen,
+Lichtenstein, Colonna, and so forth."
+
+"How is it then, that one never sees them?" cried she, more eagerly.
+
+"Say, rather, how is it one doesn't know them," cried Martin, "for here
+we are seven weeks, and, except to that gorgeous fellow in the cocked
+hat at the porter's lodge, I have never exchanged a salute with a human
+being."
+
+"There are just three houses, they say, in all Paris, to one or other of
+which one must be presented," said the Captain--"Madame de Luygnes, the
+Duchesse de Cour-celles, and Madame de Mirecourt."
+
+"That Madame de Luygnes was your old mistress, was she not, Miss
+Henderson?" asked Lady Dorothea, haughtily.
+
+"Yes, my Lady," was the calm reply.
+
+"And who are these other people?"
+
+"The Duc de Mirecourt was married to 'Mademoiselle,' the daughter of the
+Duchesse de Luygnes."
+
+"Have you heard or seen anything of them since you came here?" asked her
+Ladyship.
+
+"No, my Lady, except a hurried salute yesterday from a carriage as we
+drove in. I just caught sight of the Duchesse as she waved her hand to
+me."
+
+"Oh, I saw it. I returned the salutation, never suspecting it was meant
+for _you_. And she was your companion--your dear friend--long ago?"
+
+"Yes, my Lady," said Kate, bending down over her work, but showing in
+the crimson flush that spread over her neck how the speech had touched
+her.
+
+"And you used to correspond, I think?" continued her Ladyship.
+
+"We did so, my Lady."
+
+"And she dropped it, of course, when she married,--she had other things
+to think of?"
+
+"I 'm afraid, my Lady, the lapse was on _my_ side," said Kate, scarcely
+repressing a smile at her own hardihood.
+
+"_Your_ side! Do you mean to say that you so far forgot what was due
+to the station of the Duchesse de Mirecourt, that you left her letter
+unreplied to?"
+
+"Not exactly, my Lady."
+
+"Then, pray, what do you mean?"
+
+Kate paused for a second or two, and then, in a very calm and collected
+voice, replied,--"I told the Duchesse, in my last letter, that I should
+write no more,--that my life was thrown in a wild, unfrequented region,
+where no incident broke the monotony, and that were I to continue our
+correspondence, my letters must degenerate into a mere selfish record of
+my own sentiments, as unprofitable to read as ungraceful to write; and
+so I said good-bye--or _au revoir_, at least--till other scenes might
+suggest other thoughts."
+
+"A most complimentary character of our Land of the West, certainly!
+I really was not aware before that Cro' Martin was regarded as an
+'oubliette.'"
+
+Kate made no answer,--a silence which seemed rather to irritate than
+appease her Ladyship.
+
+"I hope you included the family in your dreary picture. I trust it was
+not a mere piece of what artists call still life, Miss Henderson?"
+
+"No, my Lady," said she, with a deep sigh; but the tone and manner of
+the rejoinder were anything but apologetic.
+
+"Now I call that as well done as anything one sees in Hyde Park," cried
+the Captain, directing attention as he spoke to a very handsome chariot
+which had just driven up to the door. "They're inquiring for somebody
+here," continued he, as he watched the Chasseur as he came and went from
+the carriage to the house.
+
+"There's a Grandee of Spain, or something of that kind, lives on the
+fourth floor, I think," said Martin, dryly.
+
+"The Duchesse de Mirecourt, my Lady," said a servant, entering, "begs to
+know if your Ladyship will receive her?"
+
+Kate started at the words, and her color rose till her cheeks were
+crimsoned.
+
+"A visit, I suspect, rather for you than me, Miss Henderson," said Lady
+Dorothea, in a half-whisper; and then turning to her servant, nodded her
+acquiescence.
+
+"I 'm off," said Martin, rising suddenly to make his escape.
+
+"And I too," said the Captain, as he made his exit by an opposite door.
+
+The folding-doors of the apartment were at the same moment thrown wide,
+and the Duchess entered. Very young,--almost girlish, indeed,--she
+combined in her appearance the charming freshness of youth with that
+perfection of gracefulness which attaches to the higher classes
+of French society, and although handsome, more striking from the
+fascination of manner than for any traits of beauty. Courtesying
+slightly, but deferentially, to Lady Dorothea, she apologized for her
+intrusion by the circumstance of having, the day before, caught sight of
+her "dear governess and dear friend--" And as she reached thus far, the
+deep-drawn breathing of another attracted her. She turned and saw Kate,
+who, pale as a statue, stood leaning on a chair. In an instant she
+was in her arms, exclaiming, in a rapture of delight, "My dear, dear
+Kate,--my more than sister! You would forgive me, madam," said she,
+addressing Lady Dorothea, "if you but knew what we were to each other.
+Is it not so, Kate?"
+
+A faint tremulous motion of the lips--all colorless as they were--was
+the only reply to the speech; but the young Frenchwoman needed none, but
+turning to her Ladyship, poured forth with native volubility a story of
+their friendship, the graceful language in which she uttered it lending
+those choice phrases which never seem exaggerations of sentiment till
+they be translated into other tongues. Mingling her praises with half
+reproaches, she drew a picture of Kate so flattering that Lady Dorothea
+could not help a sense of shrinking terror that one should speak in such
+terms of the governess.
+
+"And now, dearest," added she, turning to Kate, "are we to see a great
+deal of each other? When can you come to me? Pardon me, madam, this
+question should be addressed to you."
+
+"Miss Henderson is my secretary, Madame la Duchesse; she is also my
+companion," said Lady Dorothea, haughtily; "but I can acknowledge claims
+which take date before my own. She shall be always at liberty when you
+wish for her."
+
+"How kind, how good of you!" cried the Duchess. "I could have been
+certain of that. I knew that my dear Kate must be loved by all around
+her. We have a little _f�te_ on Wednesday at St. Germain. May I bespeak
+her for that day?"
+
+"Her Ladyship suffers her generosity to trench upon her too far," said
+Kate, in a low voice. "I am in a manner necessary to her,--that is, my
+absence would be inconvenient."
+
+"But her Ladyship will doubtless be in the world herself that evening.
+There is a ball at the Duchesse de Sargance, and the Austrian Minister
+has something," rattled on the lively Duchess. "Paris is so gay just
+now, so full of pleasant people, and all so eager for enjoyment. Don't
+you find it so, my Lady?"
+
+"I go but little into society!" said Lady Dorothea, stiffly.
+
+"How strange! and I--I cannot live without it. Even when we go to our
+Ch�teau at Roche-Mire I carry away with me all my friends who will
+consent to come. We try to imitate that delightful life of your country
+houses, and make up that great family party which is the _beau id�al_ of
+social enjoyment."
+
+"And you like a country life, then?" asked her Ladyship.
+
+"To be sure. I love the excursions on horseback, the forest drives, the
+evening walks in the trellised vines, the parties one makes to see a
+thousand things one never looks at afterwards; the little dinners on the
+grass, with all their disasters, and the moonlight drive homewards, half
+joyous, half romantic,--not to speak of that charming frankness by which
+every one makes confession of his besetting weakness, and each has some
+little secret episode of his own life to tell the others. All but Kate
+here," cried she, laughingly, "who never revealed anything."
+
+"Madame la Duchesse will, I 'm sure, excuse my absence; she has
+doubtless many things she would like to say to her friend alone," said
+Lady Dorothea, rising and courtesying formally; and the young Duchess
+returned the salutation with equal courtesy and respect.
+
+"My dear, dear Kate," cried she, throwing her arms around her as the
+door closed after her Ladyship, "how I have longed for this moment,
+to tell you ten thousand things about myself and hear from you as many
+more! And first, dearest, are you happy? for you look more serious, more
+thoughtful than you used,--and paler, too."
+
+"Am I so?" asked Kate, faintly.
+
+"Yes. When you're not speaking, your brows grow stern and your lips
+compressed. Your features have not that dear repose, as Giorgevo used to
+call it. Poor fellow! how much in love he was, and you 've never asked
+for him!"
+
+"I never thought of him!" said she, with a smile.
+
+"Nor of Florian, Kate!"
+
+"Nor even of him."
+
+[Illustration: 044]
+
+"And yet that poor fellow was really in love,--nay, don't laugh, Kate,
+I know it. He gave up his career, everything he had in life,--he was
+a Secretary of Legation, with good prospects,--all to win your favor,
+becoming a 'Carbonaro,' or a 'Montagnard,' or something or other that
+swears to annihilate all kings and extirpate monarchy."
+
+"And after that?" asked Kate, with more of interest.
+
+"After that, ma ch�re, they sent him to the galleys; I forget exactly
+where, but I think it was in Sicily. And then there was that Hungarian
+Count Nemescz, that wanted to kill somebody who picked up your bouquet
+out of the Grand Canal at Venice."
+
+"And whom, strangely enough, I met and made acquaintance with in
+Ireland. His name is Massingbred."
+
+"Not the celebrity, surely,--the young politician who made such a
+sensation by a first speech in Parliament t'other day? He's all the rage
+here. Could it be him?"
+
+"Possibly enough," said she, carelessly. "He had very good abilities,
+and knew it."
+
+"He comes to us occasionally, but I scarcely have any acquaintance with
+him. But this is not telling me of yourself, child. Who and what are
+these people you are living with? Do they value my dear Kate as they
+ought? Are they worthy of having her amongst them?"
+
+"I 'm afraid not," said Kate, with a smile. "They do not seem at all
+impressed with the blessing they enjoy, and only treat me as one of
+themselves."
+
+"But, seriously, child, are they as kind as they should be? That old
+lady is, to my thinking, as austere as an Archduchess."
+
+"I like her," said Kate; "that is, I like her cold, reserved manner,
+unbending as it is, which only demands the quiet duties of servitude,
+and neither asks nor wishes for affection. She admits me to no
+friendship, but she exacts no attachment."
+
+"And you like this?"
+
+"I did not say I should like it from _you!_ said Kate, pressing the hand
+she held fervently to her lips, while her pale cheek grew faintly red.
+
+"And you go into the world with her,--at least _her_ world?"
+
+"She has none here. Too haughty for second-rate society, and unknown to
+those who form the first class at Paris, she never goes out."
+
+"But she would--she would like to do so?"
+
+"I 'm sure she would."
+
+"Then mamma shall visit her. You know she is everything here; her house
+is the rendezvous of all the distinguished people, and, once seen in her
+salons, my Lady--how do you call her?"
+
+"Lady Dorothea Martin."
+
+"I can't repeat it--but no matter--her Ladyship shall not want for
+attentions. Perhaps she would condescend to come to me on Wednesday?
+Dare I venture to ask her?"
+
+Kate hesitated, and the Duchess quickly rejoined,--"No, dearest, you are
+quite right; it would be hazardous, too abrupt, too unceremonious. You
+will, however, be with us; and I long to present you to all my friends,
+and show them one to whom I owe so much, and ought to be indebted to
+for far more. I 'll send for you early, that we may have a long morning
+together." And so saying, she arose to take leave.
+
+"I feel as though I 'll scarcely believe I had seen you when you have
+gone," said Kate, earnestly. "I'll fancy it all a dream--or rather, that
+my life since we met has been one, and that we had never parted."
+
+"Were we not very happy then, Kate?" said the Duchess, with a half-sigh;
+"happier, perhaps, than we may ever be again."
+
+"_You_ must not say so, at all events," said Kate, once more embracing
+her. And they parted.
+
+Kate arose and watched the splendid equipage as it drove away, and then
+slowly returned to her place at the work-table. She did not, however,
+resume her embroidery, but sat deep in reflection, with her hands
+clasped before her.
+
+"Poor fellow!" said she, at length, "a galley-slave, and Massingbred a
+celebrity! So much for honesty and truth in this good world of ours! Can
+it always go on thus? That is the question I'm curious to hear solved.
+A little time may, perhaps, reveal it!" So saying to herself, she leaned
+her head upon her hand, deep lost in thought.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IV. A VERY GREAT FAVOR
+
+Amongst the embarrassments of story-telling there is one which, to be
+appreciated, must have been experienced; it is, however, sufficiently
+intelligible to claim sympathy even by indicating,--we mean the
+difficulty a narrator has in the choice of those incidents by which
+his tale is to be marked out, and the characters who fill it adequately
+depicted.
+
+It is quite clear that a great number of events must occur in the story
+of every life of which no record can be made; some seem too trivial,
+some too irrelevant for mention, and yet, when we come to reflect upon
+real life itself, how many times do we discover that what appeared to be
+but the veriest trifles were the mainsprings of an entire existence,
+and the incidents which we deemed irrelevant were the hidden links
+that connected a whole chain of events? How easy, then, to err in the
+selection! This difficulty presents itself strongly to us at present; a
+vast number of circumstances rise before us from which we must refrain,
+lest they should appear to indicate a road we are not about to travel;
+and, at the same time, we feel the want of those very events to
+reconcile what may well seem contradictions in our history.
+
+It not unfrequently happens that an apology is just as tiresome as
+the offence it should excuse; and so, without further explanation, we
+proceed. Lady Dorothea soon found herself as much sought after as she
+had previously been neglected. The Duchesse de Luygnes was the great
+leader of fashion at Paris; and the marked attentions by which she
+distinguished her Ladyship at once established her position. Of course
+her unquestionable claim to station, and her own high connections
+rendered the task less difficult; while it imparted to Lady Dorothea's
+own manner and bearing that degree of dignity and calm which never
+accompany an insecure elevation.
+
+With such refinement of delicacy, such exquisite tact, was every step
+managed that her Ladyship was left to suppose every attention she
+received sprung out of her own undeniable right to them, and to the
+grace and charm of a manner which really had had its share of success
+some five-and-thirty years before. The gloomy isolation she had passed
+through gave a stronger contrast to the enjoyment of her present life;
+and for the first time for years she regained some of that courtly
+elegance of address which in her youth had pre-eminently distinguished
+her. The change had worked favorably in her temper also; and Martin
+perceived, with astonishment, that she neither made injurious
+comparisons between the present and the past, nor deemed the age they
+lived in one of insufferable vulgarity. It would scarcely have been
+possible for Lady Dorothea not to connect her altered position with the
+friendship between Kate Henderson and her former pupil; she knew it, and
+she felt it. All her self-esteem could not get over this consciousness;
+but it was a humiliation reserved for her own heart, since nothing in
+Kate's manner indicated even a suspicion of the fact. On the contrary,
+never had she shown herself more submissive and dependent. The duties
+of her office, multiplied as they were tenfold by her Ladyship's
+engagements, were all punctually acquitted, and with a degree of tact
+and cleverness that obtained from Lady Dorothea the credit of a charming
+note-writer. Nor was she indifferent to the effect Kate produced in
+society, where her beauty and fascination had already made a deep
+impression.
+
+Reserving a peculiar deference and respect for all her intercourse with
+Lady Dorothea, Kate Henderson assumed to the world at large the ease and
+dignity of one whose station was the equal of any. There was nothing in
+her air or bearing that denoted the dependant; there was rather a dash
+of haughty superiority, which did not scruple to avow itself and bid
+defiance to any bold enough to question its claims. Even this was a
+secret flattery to Lady Dorothea's heart; and she saw with satisfaction
+the success of that imperious tone which to herself was subdued to
+actual humility.
+
+Lady Dorothea Martin and her beautiful companion were now celebrities
+at Paris; and, assuredly, no city of the world knows how to shower
+more fascinations on those it favors. Life became to them a round of
+brilliant festivities. They received invitations from every quarter, and
+everywhere were met with that graceful welcome so sure to greet those
+whose airs and whose dress are the ornaments of a salon. They "received"
+at home, too; and her Ladyship's Saturdays were about the most exclusive
+of all Parisian receptions. Tacitly, at least, the whole management and
+direction of these "Evenings" was committed to Kate. Martin strictly
+abstained from a society in every way distasteful to him. The Captain
+had come to care for nothing but play, so that the Club was his only
+haunt; and it was the rarest of all events to see him pass even a few
+minutes in the drawing-room. He had, besides, that degree of shrinking
+dislike to Kate Henderson which a weak man very often experiences
+towards a clever and accomplished girl. When he first joined his family
+at Paris, he was struck by her great beauty and the elegance of a manner
+that might have dignified any station, and he fell partly in love,--that
+is to say, as much in love as a captain of hussars could permit himself
+to feel for a governess. He condescended to make small advances, show
+her petty attentions, and even distinguish her by that flattering stare,
+with his glass to his eye, which he had known to be what the poet calls
+"blush-compelling" in many a fair cheek in provincial circles.
+
+To his marvellous discomfiture, however, these measures were not
+followed by any success. She never as much as seemed aware of them, and
+treated him with the same polite indifference, as though he had been
+neither a hussar nor a lady-killer. Of course he interpreted this as a
+piece of consummate cunning; he had no other measure for her capacity
+than would have been suited to his own. She was a deep one, evidently
+bent on drawing him on, and entangling him in some stupid declaration,
+and so he grew cautious. But, somehow, his reserve provoked as little
+as his boldness. She did not change in the least; she treated him with a
+quiet, easy sort of no-notice,--the most offensive thing possible to one
+bent upon being impressive, and firmly persuaded that he need only wish,
+to be the conqueror.
+
+Self-worship was too strong in him to suffer a single doubt as to his
+own capacity for success, and therefore the only solution to the mystery
+of her manner was its being an artful scheme, which time and a little
+watching would surely explain. Time went on, and yet he grew none the
+wiser; Kate continued the same impassive creature as at first. She never
+sought,--never avoided him. She met him without constraint,--without
+pleasure, too. They never became intimate, while there was no distance
+in their intercourse; till at last, wounded in his self-esteem, he
+began to feel that discomfort in her presence which only waits for the
+slightest provocation to become actual dislike.
+
+With that peevishness that belongs to small minds, he would have been
+glad to have discovered some good ground for hating her; and a dozen
+times a day did he fancy that he had "hit the blot," but somehow he
+always detected his mistake erelong; and thus did he live on in that
+tantalizing state of uncertainty and indecision which combines about as
+much suffering as men of his stamp are capable of feeling.
+
+If Lady Dorothea never suspected the degree of influence Kate silently
+exercised over her, the Captain saw it palpably, and tried to nourish
+the knowledge into a ground for dislike. But somehow she would no more
+suffer herself to be hated than to be loved, and invariably baffled
+all his attempts to "get up" an indignation against her. By numberless
+devices--too slight, too evanescent to be called regular coquetry--she
+understood how to conciliate him, even in his roughest moods, while she
+had only to make the very least possible display of her attractions to
+fascinate him in his happier moments. The gallant hussar was not much
+given to self-examination. It was one of the last positions he would
+have selected; and yet he had confessed to his own heart that, though he
+'d not like to marry her himself, he 'd be sorely tempted to shoot any
+man who made her his wife.
+
+Lady Dorothea and Kate Henderson were seated one morning engaged in the
+very important task of revising the invitation-book,--weeding out the
+names of departed acquaintance, and canvassing the claims of those who
+should succeed them. The rigid criticism as to eligibility showed how
+great an honor was the card for her Ladyship's "Tea." While they were
+thus occupied, Captain Martin entered the room with an open letter in
+his hand, his air and manner indicating flurry, if not actual agitation.
+
+"Sorry to interrupt a privy council," said he, "but I've come to ask
+a favor,--don't look frightened; it's not for a woman, my Lady,--but I
+want a card for your next Saturday, for a male friend of mine."
+
+"Kate has just been telling me that 'our men' are too numerous."
+
+"Impossible. Miss Henderson knows better than any one that the success
+of these things depends on having a host of men,--all ages, all classes,
+all sorts of people," said he, indolently.
+
+"I think we have complied with your theory," said she, pointing to the
+book before her. "If our ladies are chosen for their real qualities, the
+men have been accepted with a most generous forbearance."
+
+"One more, then, will not damage the mixture."
+
+"Of course, Captain Martin, it is quite sufficient that he is a friend
+of yours--that you wish it--"
+
+"But it is no such thing, Miss Henderson," broke in Lady Dorothea. "We
+have already given deep umbrage in many quarters--very high quarters,
+too--by refusals; and a single mistake would be fatal to us."
+
+"But why need this be a mistake?" cried Captain Martin, peevishly. "The
+man is an acquaintance of mine,--a friend, if you like to call him so."
+
+"And who is he?" asked my Lady, with all the solemnity of a judge.
+
+"A person I met at the Cape. We travelled home together--saw a great
+deal of each other--in fact--I know him as intimately as I do--any
+officer in my regiment," said the Captain, blundering and faltering at
+every second word.
+
+"Oh! then he is one of your own corps?" said her Ladyship.
+
+"I never said so," broke he in. "If he had been, I don't fancy I should
+need to employ much solicitation in his behalf; the--they are not
+usually treated in that fashion!"
+
+"I trust we should know how to recognize their merits," said Kate,
+with a look which sorely puzzled him whether it meant conciliation or
+raillery.
+
+"And his name?" asked my Lady. "His name ought to be decisive, without
+anything more!"
+
+"He's quite a stranger here, knows nobody, so that you incur no risk as
+to any impertinent inquiries, and when he leaves this, to-morrow or next
+day, you 'll never see him again." This the Captain said with all the
+confusion of an inexpert man in a weak cause.
+
+"Shall I address his card, or will you take it yourself, Captain
+Martin?" said Kate, in a low voice.
+
+"Write Merl,--Mr. Herman Merl," said he, dropping his own voice to the
+same tone.
+
+"Merl!" exclaimed Lady Dorothea, whose quick hearing detected the words.
+"Why, where on earth could you have made acquaintance with a man called
+Merl?"
+
+"I have told you already where and how we met; and if it be
+any satisfaction to you to know that I am under considerable
+obligations--heavy obligations--to this same gentleman, perhaps it might
+incline you to show him some mark of attention."
+
+"You could have him to dinner at your Club,--you might even bring him
+here, when we're alone, Harry; but really, to receive him at one of
+our Evenings! You know how curious people are, what questions they will
+ask:--'Who is that queer-looking man?'--I 'm certain he is so.--'Is he
+English?'--'Who does he belong to?'--'Does he know any one?'"
+
+"Let them ask me, then," said Martin, "and I may, perhaps, be able to
+satisfy them." At the same moment he took up from the table the card
+which Kate had just written, giving her a look of grateful recognition
+as he did so.
+
+"You 've done this at your own peril, Miss Henderson," said Lady
+Dorothea, half upbraidingly.
+
+"At _mine_, be it rather," said the Captain, sternly.
+
+"I accept my share of it willingly," said Kate, with a glance which
+brought a deep flush over the hussar's cheek, and sent through him a
+strange thrill of pleasure.
+
+"Then I am to suppose we shall be honored with your own presence on this
+occasion,--rare favor that it is," said her Ladyship.
+
+"Yes, I 'll look in. I promised Merl to present him."
+
+"Oh, you need n't!" said she, peevishly. "Half the men merely make their
+bow when they meet me, and neither expect me to remember who they are
+or to notice them. I may leave your distinguished friend in the same
+category."
+
+A quick glance from Kate--fleeting, but full of meaning--stopped Martin
+as he was about to make a hasty reply. And, crumpling up the card with
+suppressed passion, he turned and left the room.
+
+"Don't put that odious name on our list, Miss Henderson," said Lady
+Dorothea; "we shall never have him again."
+
+"I 'm rather curious to see him," said Kate. "All this discussion has
+imparted a kind of interest to him, not to say that there would seem
+something like a mystery in Captain Martin's connection with him."
+
+"I confess to no such curiosity," said my Lady, haughtily. "The taste
+to be amused by vulgarity is like the passion some people have to see an
+hospital; you may be interested by the sight, but you may catch a malady
+for your pains." And with this observation of mingled truth and fallacy
+her Ladyship sailed proudly out of the room in all the conscious
+importance of her own cleverness.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER V. A LETTER FROM HOME
+
+While this discussion was going on, Martin was seated in his own room,
+examining the contents of his letter-bag, which the post had just
+delivered to him. A very casual glance at his features would have
+discovered that the tidings which met his eye were very rarely of a
+pleasant character. For the most part the letters were importunate
+appeals for money, subscriptions, loans, small sums to be repaid when
+the borrower had risen above his present difficulties, aids to effect
+some little enterprise on whose very face was failure. Then there were
+the more formal demands for sums actually due, written in the perfection
+of coercive courtesy, subjecting the reader to all the tortures of a
+moral surgical operation, a suffering actually increased by the very
+dexterity of the manipulator. Then came, in rugged hand and gnarled
+shape, urgent entreaties for abatements and allowances, pathetic
+pictures of failing crops, sickness and sorrow! Somewhat in contrast to
+these in matter--most strikingly unlike them in manner--was a short note
+from Mr. Maurice Scanlan. Like a rebutting witness in a cause, he spoke
+of everything as going on favorably; prices were fair, the oat crop a
+reasonable one. There was distress, to be sure, but who ever saw the
+West without it? The potatoes had partially failed; but as there was a
+great deal of typhus and a threat of cholera, there would be fewer to
+eat them. The late storms had done a good deal of mischief, but as the
+timber thrown down might be sold without any regard to the entail, some
+thousand pounds would thus be realized; and as the gale had carried away
+the new pier at Kilkieran, there would be no need to give a bounty to
+the fishermen who could not venture out to sea. The damage done to the
+house and the conservatories at Cro' Martin offered an opportunity to
+congratulate the owner on the happiness of living in a milder climate;
+while the local squabbles of the borough suggested a pleasant contrast
+with all the enjoyments of a life abroad.
+
+On the whole, Mr. Scanlan's letter was rather agreeable than the
+reverse, since he contrived to accompany all the inevitable ills of
+fortune by some side-wind consolations, and when pushed hard for these,
+skilfully insinuated in what way "things might have been worse." If the
+letter did not reflect very favorably on either the heart or brain that
+conceived it, it well suited him to whom it was addressed. To screen
+himself from whatever might irritate him, to escape an unpleasant
+thought or unhappy reflection, to avoid, above all things, the slightest
+approach of self-censure, was Martin's great philosophy; and he esteemed
+the man who gave him any aid in this road. Now newspapers might croak
+their dark predictions about the coming winter, prophesy famine, fever,
+and pestilence; Scanlan's letter, "written from the spot," by "one who
+enjoyed every opportunity for forming a correct opinion," was there,
+and _he_ said matters were pretty much as usual. The West of Ireland had
+never been a land of milk and honey, and nobody expected it ever would
+be,--the people could live in it, however, and pay rents too; and as
+Martin felt that he had no undue severity to reproach himself with,
+he folded up the epistle, saying that "when a man left his house and
+property for a while, it was a real blessing to have such a fellow as
+Scanlan to manage for him;" and truly, if one could have his conscience
+kept for a few hundreds a year, the compact might be a pleasant one. But
+even to the most self-indulgent this plan is impracticable; and so might
+it now be seen in Martin's heightened color and fidgety manner, and
+that even _he_ was not as much at ease within as he wished to persuade
+himself he was.
+
+Amid the mass of correspondence, pamphlets and newspapers, one note,
+very small and neatly folded, had escaped Martin's notice till the very
+last; and it was only as he heaped up a whole bundle to throw into the
+fire that he discovered this, in Mary's well-known hand. He held it
+for some time ere he broke the seal, and his features assumed a sadder,
+graver cast than before. His desertion of her--and he had not blinked
+the word to himself--had never ceased to grieve him; and however
+disposed he often felt to throw upon others the blame which attached to
+himself here, he attempted no casuistry, but stood quietly, without one
+plea in his favor, before his own heart.
+
+The very consciousness of his culpability had prevented him writing to
+her as he ought; his letters were few, short, and constrained. Not all
+the generous frankness of hers could restore to him the candid ease of
+his former intercourse with her; and every chance expression he used was
+conned over and canvassed by him, lest it might convey some sentiment,
+or indicate some feeling foreign to his intention. At length so painful
+had the task become that he had ceased writing altogether, contenting
+himself with a message through Kate Henderson,--some excuse about his
+health, fatigue,-and so forth, ever coupled with a promise that he
+would soon be himself again, and as active a correspondent as she could
+desire.
+
+To these apologies Mary always replied in a kindly spirit. Whatever
+sorrow they might have cost her she kept for herself; they never
+awakened one expression of impatience, not a word of reproach. She
+understood him thoroughly,--his easy indolence of disposition, his
+dislike to a task, his avoidance of whatever was possible to defer;
+more even than all these, his own unforgiveness of himself for his part
+towards her. To alleviate, so far as she might, the poignancy of the
+last, was for a while the great object of all her letters; and so
+she continued to expatiate on the happy life she was leading, her
+contentment with the choice she had made of remaining there, throwing
+in little playful sallies of condolence at her uncle's banishment, and
+jestingly assuring him how much happier he would be at home!
+
+In whatever mood, however, she wrote, there was a striking absence of
+whatever could fret or grieve her uncle throughout all her letters. She
+selected every pleasant topic and the favorable side of every theme to
+tell of. She never forgot any little locality which he had been partial
+to, or any of the people who were his favorites; and, in fact, it might
+have seemed that the great object she had in view was to attach him more
+and more to the home he had left, and strengthen every tie that bound
+him to his own country. And all this was done lightly and playfully, and
+with a pleasant promise of the happiness he should feel on the day of
+his return.
+
+These letters were about the pleasantest incidents in Martin's present
+life; and the day which brought him one was sure to pass agreeably,
+while he made vigorous resolutions about writing a reply, and sometimes
+got even so far as to open a desk and ruminate over an answer. It so
+chanced that now a much longer interval had occurred since Mary's last
+letter, and the appearance of the present note, so unlike the voluminous
+epistle she usually despatched, struck him with a certain dismay. "Poor
+Molly," said he, as he broke the seal, "she is growing weary at last;
+this continued neglect is beginning to tell upon her. A little more,
+and she 'll believe--as well she may--that we have forgotten her
+altogether."
+
+The note was even briefer than he had suspected. It was written, too,
+in what might seem haste, or agitation, and the signature forgotten.
+Martin's hand trembled, and his chest heaved heavily as he read the
+following lines:--
+
+"Cro' Martin, Wednesday Night
+
+"Dearest Uncle,--You will not suffer these few lines to remain
+unanswered, since they are written in all the pressure of a great
+emergency. Our worst fears for the harvest are more than realized; a
+total failure in the potatoes--a great diminution in the oat crop; the
+incessant rains have flooded all the low meadows, and the cattle are
+almost without forage, while from the same cause no turf can be cut, and
+even that already cut and stacked cannot be drawn away from the bogs.
+But, worse than all these, typhus is amongst us, and cholera, they say,
+coming. I might stretch out this dreary catalogue, but here is enough,
+more than enough, to awaken your sympathies and arouse you to action.
+There is a blight on the land; the people are starving--dying. If every
+sense of duty was dead within us, if we could harden our hearts against
+every claim of those from whose labor we derive ease, from whose toil we
+draw wealth and leisure, we might still be recalled to better things
+by the glorious heroism of these poor people, so nobly courageous, so
+patient are they in their trials. It is not now that I can speak of
+the traits I have witnessed of their affection, their charity, their
+self-denial, and their daring--but now is the moment to show them that
+we, who have been dealt with more favorably by fortune, are not devoid
+of the qualities which adorn their nature.
+
+"I feel all the cruelty of narrating these things to you, too far away
+from the scene of sorrow to aid by your counsel and encourage by your
+assistance; but it would be worse than cruelty to conceal from you
+that a terrible crisis is at hand, which will need all your energy to
+mitigate.
+
+"Some measures are in your power, and must be adopted at once. There
+must be a remission of rent almost universally, for the calamity has
+involved all; and such as are a little richer than their neighbors
+should be aided, that they may be the more able to help them. Some
+stores of provisions must be provided to be sold at reduced rates, or
+even given gratuitously. Medical aid must be had, and an hospital
+of some sort established. The able-bodied must be employed on some
+permanent work; and for these, we want power from you and some present
+moneyed assistance. I will not harrow your feelings with tales of
+sufferings. You have seen misery here--enough, I say--you have witnessed
+nothing like this, and we are at but the beginning.
+
+"Write to me at once yourself--this is no occasion to employ a
+deputy--and forgive me, dearest uncle, for I know not what faults of
+presumption I may have here committed. My head is confused; the crash
+of misfortunes has addled me, and each succeed so rapidly on each other,
+that remedies are scarcely employed than they have to be abandoned.
+When, however, I can tell the people that it is their own old friend and
+master that sends them help, and bids them to be of good cheer,--when
+I can show them that, although separated by distance, your heart never
+ceases to live amongst them,--I know well the magic working of such a
+spell upon them, and how, with a bravery that the boldest soldier never
+surpassed, they will rise up against the stern foes of sickness and
+famine, and do battle with hard fortune manfully.
+
+"You have often smiled at what you deemed my exaggerated opinion of
+these poor people,--my over-confidence in their capacity for good.
+Oh--take my word for it--I never gave them credit for one half the
+excellence of their natures. They are on their trial now, and nobly do
+they sustain it!
+
+"I have no heart to answer all your kind questions about myself,--enough
+that I am well; as little can I ask you about all your doings in Paris.
+I 'm afraid I should but lose temper if I heard that they were pleasant
+ones; and yet, with my whole soul, I wish you to be happy; and with
+this,
+
+"Believe me your affectionate
+
+"Mr. Repton has written me the kindest of letters, full of good advice
+and good sense; he has also enclosed me a check for �100, with an offer
+of more if wanted. I was low and depressed when his note reached me,
+but it gave me fresh energy and hope. He proposed to come down here if
+I wished; but how could I ask such a sacrifice,--how entreat him to face
+the peril?"
+
+"Tell Captain Martin I wish to speak to him," said Martin, as he
+finished the perusal of this letter. And in a few minutes after, that
+gallant personage appeared, not a little surprised at the summons.
+
+"I have got a letter from Mary here," said Martin, vainly endeavoring
+to conceal his agitation as he spoke, "which I want to show you. Matters
+are in a sad plight in the West. She never exaggerates a gloomy story,
+and her account is very afflicting. Read it."
+
+The Captain lounged towards the window, and, leaning listlessly against
+the wall, opened the epistle.
+
+"You have not written to her lately, then?" asked he, as he perused the
+opening sentence.
+
+"I am ashamed to say I have not; every day I made a resolution; but
+somehow--"
+
+"Is all this anything strange or new?" broke in the Captain. "I 'm
+certain I have forty letters from my mother with exactly the same story.
+In fact, before I ever broke the seal, I 'd have wagered an equal
+fifty that the potatoes had failed, the bogs were flooded, the roads
+impassable, and the people dying in thousands; and yet, when spring came
+round, by some happy miracle they were all alive and merry again!"
+
+"Read on," said Martin, impatiently, and barely able to control himself
+at this heartless commentary.
+
+"Egad! I 'd have sworn I had read all this before, except these same
+suggestions about not exacting the rents, building hospitals, and so
+forth; that _is_ new. And why does she say, 'Don't write by deputy'? Who
+_was_ your deputy?"
+
+"Kate Henderson has written for me latterly."
+
+"And I should say she 's quite equal to that sort of thing; she dashes
+off my mother's notes at score, and talks away, too, all the time she 's
+writing."
+
+"That is not the question before us," said Martin, sternly.
+
+"When I sent for you to read that letter, it was that you might advise
+and counsel me what course to take."
+
+"If you can afford to give away a year's income in the shape of rent,
+and about as much more in the shape of a donation, of course you 're
+quite free to do it. I only wish that your generosity would begin at
+home, though; for I own to you I 'm very hard-up at this moment." This
+the Captain spoke with an attempted jocularity which decreased with
+every word, till it subsided into downright seriousness ere he finished.
+
+"So far from being in a position to do an act of munificence, I am
+sorely pressed for money," said Martin.
+
+The Captain started; the half-smile with which he had begun to receive
+this speech died away on his lips as he asked, "Is this really the
+case?"
+
+"Most truly so," said Martin, solemnly.
+
+"But how, in the name of everything absurd--how is this possible? By
+what stratagem could you have spent five thousand a year at Cro' Martin,
+and your estate was worth almost three times as much? Giving a very wide
+margin for waste and robbery, I 'd say five thousand could not be made
+away with there in a twelvemonth."
+
+"Your question only shows me how carelessly you must have read my
+letters to you, in India," said Martin; "otherwise you could not have
+failed to see the vast improvements we have been carrying out on the
+property,--the roads, the harbors, the new quarries opened, the extent
+of ground covered by plantation,--all the plans, in fact, which Mary had
+matured--"
+
+"Mary! Mary!" exclaimed the Captain. "And do you tell me that all these
+things were done at the instigation of a young girl of nineteen or
+twenty, without any knowledge, or even advice--"
+
+"And who said she was deficient in knowledge?" cried Martin. "Take up
+the map of the estate; see the lands she has reclaimed; look at the
+swamps you used to shoot snipe over bearing corn crops; see the thriving
+village, where once the boatmen were starving, for they dared not
+venture out to sea without a harbor against bad weather."
+
+"Tell me the cost of all this. What's the figure?" said the Captain;
+"that's the real test of all these matters, for if _your_ income could
+only feed this outlay, I pronounce the whole scheme the maddest thing
+in Christendom. My mother's taste for carved oak cabinets and historical
+pictures is the quintessence of wisdom in comparison."
+
+Martin was overwhelmed and silent, and the other went on,--"Half the
+fellows in 'ours' had the same story to tell,--of estates wasted,
+and fine fortunes squandered in what are called improvements. If the
+possession of a good property entails the necessity to spend it all in
+this fashion, one is very little better than a kind of land-steward to
+one's own estate; and, for my part, I 'd rather call two thousand a year
+my own, to do what I pleased with, than have a nominal twenty, of which
+I must disburse nineteen."
+
+"Am I again to remind you that this is not the question before us?" said
+Martin, with increased sternness.
+
+"That is exactly the very question," rejoined the Captain. "Mary here
+coolly asks you, in the spirit of this same improvement-scheme, to
+relinquish a year's income, and make a present of I know not how much
+more, simply because things are going badly with them, just as if
+everybody has n't their turn of ill-fortune. Egad, I can answer for it,
+_mine_ has n't been flourishing latterly, and yet I have heard of no
+benevolent plan on foot to aid or release me!"
+
+To this heartless speech, uttered, however, in most perfect sincerity,
+Martin made no reply whatever, but sat with folded arms, deep in
+contemplation. At length, raising his head, he asked, "And have you,
+then, no counsel to give,--no suggestion to make me?"
+
+"Well," said he, suddenly, "if Mary has not greatly overcharged all this
+story--"
+
+"That she has not," cried Martin, interrupting him. "There 's not a
+line, not a word of her letter, I 'd not guarantee with all I 'm worth
+in the world."
+
+"In that case," resumed the Captain, in the same indolent tone, "they
+must be in a sorry plight, and _I_ think ought to cut and run as fast as
+they can. I know that's what _we_ do in India; when the cholera comes,
+we break up the encampment, and move off somewhere else. Tell Mary,
+then, to advise them to keep out of 'the jungle,' and make for the hill
+country.'"
+
+Martin stared at the speaker for some seconds, and it was evident how
+difficult he found it to believe that the words he had just listened to
+were uttered in deliberate seriousness.
+
+"If you have read that letter, you certainly have not understood it,"
+said he at last, in a voice full of melancholy meaning.
+
+"Egad, it's only too easy of comprehension," replied the Captain; "of
+all things in life, there's no mistaking a demand for money."
+
+"Just take it with you to your own room, Harry," said Martin, with
+a manner of more affection than he had yet employed. "It is my firm
+persuasion that when you have re-read and thought over it, your
+impression will be a different one. Con it over in solitude, and then
+come back and give me your advice."
+
+The Captain was not sorry to adopt a plan which relieved him so speedily
+from a very embarrassing situation, and, folding up the note, he turned
+and left the room.
+
+There are a great number of excellent people in this world who believe
+that "Thought," like "�cart�," is a game which requires two people to
+play. The Captain was one of these; nor was it within his comprehension
+to imagine how any one individual could suffice to raise the doubts he
+was called on to canvass or decide. "Who should he now have recourse
+to?" was his first question; and he had scarcely proposed it to himself
+when a soft low voice said, "What is puzzling Captain Martin?--can I be
+of any service to him?" He turned and saw Kate Henderson.
+
+"Only think how fortunate!" exclaimed he. "Just come in here to this
+drawing-room, and give me your advice."
+
+"Willingly," said she, with a courtesy the more marked because his
+manner indicated a seriousness that betokened trouble.
+
+"My father has just dismissed me to cogitate over this epistle; as
+if, after all, when one has read a letter, that any secret or mystical
+interpretation is to come by all the reconsideration and reflection in
+the world."
+
+"Am I to read it?" asked Kate, as he placed it in her hand.
+
+"Of course you are," said he.
+
+"There is nothing confidential or private in it which I ought not to
+see?"
+
+"Nothing; and if there were," added he, warmly, "_you_ are one of
+ourselves, I trust,--at least _I_ think you so."
+
+Kate's lips closed with almost stern % impressiveness, but her color
+never changed at this speech, and she opened the letter in silence. For
+some minutes she continued to read with the same impassive expression;
+but gradually her cheek became paler, and a haughty, almost scornful,
+expression settled on her lips. "So patient are they in their trials,"
+said she, reading aloud the expression of Mary's note. "Is it not
+possible, Captain Martin, that patience may be pushed a little beyond a
+virtue, and become something very like cowardice,--abject cowardice?
+And then," cried she impetuously, and not waiting for his reply, "to
+say that now is the time to show these poor people the saving care and
+protection that the rich owe them, as if the duty dated from the hour of
+their being struck down by famine, laid low by pestilence, or that the
+debt could ever be acquitted by the relief accorded to pauperism! Why
+not have taught these same famished creatures self-dependence, elevated
+them to the rank of civilized beings by the enjoyment of rights that
+give men self-esteem as well as liberty? What do you mean to do,
+sir?--or is that your difficulty?" cried she, hastily changing her tone
+to one of less energy.
+
+"Exactly,--that is _my difficulty_. My father, I suspect, wishes me to
+concur in the pleasant project struck out by Mary, and that, by way of
+helping _them_, we should ruin _ourselves_."
+
+"And _you_ are for--" She stopped, as if to let him finish her question
+for her.
+
+"Egad, I don't know well what I'm for, except it be self-preservation.
+I mean," said he, correcting himself, as a sudden glance of almost
+insolent scorn shot from Kate's eyes towards him,--"I mean that I 'm
+certain more than half of this account is sheer exaggeration. Mary is
+frightened,--as well she may be,--finding herself all alone, and
+hearing nothing but the high-colored stories the people brings her, and
+listening to calamities from morning to night."
+
+"But still it _may_ be all true," said Kate, solemnly. "It may be--as
+Miss Martin writes--that 'there is a blight on the land.'"
+
+"What's to be done, then?" asked he, in deep embarrassment.
+
+"The first step is to ascertain what is fact,--the real extent of the
+misfortune."
+
+"And how is that to be accomplished?" asked he.
+
+"Can you not think of some means?" said she, with a scarcely perceptible
+approach to a smile.
+
+"No, by Jove! that I cannot, except by going over there one's self."
+
+"And why not that?" asked she, more boldly, while she fixed her large
+full eyes directly upon him.
+
+"If _you_ thought that I ought to go,--if you advised it and would
+actually say 'Go'--"
+
+"Well, if I should?"
+
+"Then I'd set off to-night; though, to say truth, neither the journey
+nor the business are much to my fancy."
+
+"Were they ten times less so, sir, I'd say, 'Go,'" said she, resolutely.
+
+"Then go I will," cried the Captain; "and I'll start within two hours."
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VI. MR. MERL'S DEPARTURE
+
+Worthy reader, you are neither weak of purpose nor undecided in action;
+as little are you easily moved by soft influences, when aided by long
+eyelashes. But had you been so, it would have been no difficult effort
+for you to comprehend the state of mind in which Captain Martin repaired
+to his room to make preparation for his journey. There was a kind of
+half chivalry in his present purpose that nerved and supported him. It
+was like a knight-errant of old setting out to confront a peril at the
+behest of his lady-love; but against this animating conviction there
+arose that besetting sin of small minds,--a sense of distrust,--a
+lurking suspicion that he might be, all this while, nothing but the dupe
+of a very artful woman.
+
+"Who can tell," said he to himself, "what plan she may have in all this,
+or what object she may propose to herself in getting _me_ out of the
+way? I don't think she really cares one farthing about the distress of
+these people, supposing it all to be true; and as to the typhus fever
+and cholera, egad! if they be there, one ought to think twice before
+rushing into the midst of them. And then, again, what do I know about
+the country or its habits? I have no means of judging if it be poorer or
+sicklier or; more wretched than usual. To _my_ eyes, it always seemed
+at the lowest depth of want and misery; every one went half starved and
+more than half naked. I 'm sure there is no necessity for my going some
+few hundred and odd miles to refresh my memory on this pleasant fact;
+and yet this is precisely what I 'm about to do. Is it by way of trying
+her power over me? By Jove, I 've hit it!" cried he, suddenly, as he
+stopped arranging a mass of letters which he was reducing to order
+before his departure. "That's her game; there's no doubt of it! She
+has said to herself, 'This will prove him. If he do this at my bidding,
+he'll do more.' Ay, but will he, mademoiselle? that's the question. A
+young hussar may turn out to be a very old soldier. What if I were just
+to tell her so. Girls of her stamp like a man all the better when he
+shows himself to be wide-awake. I 'd lay a fifty on it she 'll care more
+for me when she sees I 'm her own equal in shrewdness. And, after all,
+why should _I_ go? I could send my valet, Fletcher,--just the kind of
+fellow for such a mission,--never knew the secret he could n't worm out;
+there never was a bit of barrack scandal he did n't get to the bottom
+of. He 'd be back here within a fortnight, with the whole state of the
+case, and I'll be bound there will be no humbugging _him_."
+
+This bright idea was not, however, without its share of detracting
+reflections, for what became of all that personal heroism on which he
+reposed such hope, if the danger were to be encountered by deputy? This
+was a puzzle, not the less that he had not yet made up his mind whether
+he 'd really be in love with Kate Henderson, or only involve _her_ in an
+unfortunate attachment for _him_. While he thus pondered and hesitated,
+strewing his room with the contents of drawers and cabinets, by way of
+aiding the labor of preparation, his door was suddenly opened, and Mr.
+Merl made his appearance. Although dressed with all his habitual regard
+to effect, and more than an ordinary display of chains and trinkets,
+that gentleman's aspect betokened trouble and anxiety; at least, there
+was a certain restlessness in his eye that Martin well understood as an
+evidence of something wrong within.
+
+"Are you getting ready for a journey, Captain?" asked he, as he entered.
+
+"I was thinking of it; but I believe I shall not go. I 'm undecided."
+
+"Up the Rhine?"
+
+"No; not in that direction."
+
+"South,--towards Italy, perhaps?"
+
+"Nor there, either. I was meditating a trip to England."
+
+"We should be on the road together," said Merl. "I'm off by four
+o'clock."
+
+"How so? What's the reason of this sudden start?"
+
+"There's going to be a crash here," said Merl, speaking in a lower tone.
+"The Government have been doing the thing with too high a hand, and
+there's mischief brewing."
+
+"Are you sure of this?" asked Martin.
+
+"Only too sure, that's all. I bought in, on Tuesday last, at sixty-four
+and an eighth, and the same stock is now fifty-one and a quarter, and
+will be forty to-morrow. The day after--" Here Mr. Merl made a motion
+with his outstretched arm, to indicate utter extinction.
+
+"You're a heavy loser, then?" asked Martin, eagerly.
+
+"I shall be, to the tune of some thirteen thousand pounds. It was just
+on that account I came in here. I shall need money within the week, and
+must turn those Irish securities of yours into cash,--some of them at
+least,--and I want a hint from you as to which I ought to dispose of
+and which hold over. You told me one day, I remember, that there was a
+portion of the property likely to rise greatly in value--"
+
+"_You_ told me, sir," said Captain Martin, breaking suddenly in, "when
+I gave you these same bonds, that they should remain in your own hands,
+and never leave them. That was the condition on which I gave them."
+
+"I suppose, Captain, you gave them for something; you did not make a
+present of them," said the Jew, coloring slightly.
+
+"If I did not make a present of them," rejoined Martin, "the transaction
+was about as profitable to me."
+
+"You owed me the money, sir; that, at least, is the way I regard the
+matter."
+
+"And when I paid it by these securities, you pledged yourself not to
+negotiate them. I explained to you how the entail was settled,--that the
+property must eventually be mine,--and you accepted the arrangement on
+these conditions."
+
+"All true, Captain; but nobody told me, at that time, there was going
+to be a revolution in Paris,--which there will be within forty-eight
+hours."
+
+"Confounded fool that I was to trust the fellow!" said Martin to
+himself, but quite loud enough to be heard; then turning to Merl, he
+said, "What do you mean by converting them into cash? Are you about to
+sell part of our estate?"
+
+"Nothing of the kind, Captain," said Merl, smiling at the innocence of
+the question. "I am simply going to deposit these where I can obtain
+an advance upon them. I promise you, besides, it shall not be in any
+quarter by which the transaction can reach the ears of your family.
+This assurance will, I trust, satisfy _you_, and entitle _me_ to the
+information I ask for."
+
+"What information do you allude to?" asked Martin, who had totally
+forgotten what the Jew announced as the reason of his visit.
+
+"I asked you, Captain," said Merl, resuming the mincing softness of
+his usual manner, "as to which of these securities might be the more
+eligible for immediate negotiation?"
+
+"And how should I know, sir?" replied the other, rudely. "I am very
+little acquainted with the property itself; I know still less about the
+kind of dealings you speak of. It does not concern me in the least
+what you do, or how you do it. I believe I may have given you bonds for
+something very like double the amount of all you ever advanced to me.
+I hear of nothing from my father but the immense resources of this, and
+the great capabilities of that; but as these same eventualities are
+not destined to better _my_ condition, I have not troubled my head to
+remember anything about them. You have a claim of about twenty thousand
+against me."
+
+"Thirty-two thousand four hundred and seventy-eight pounds," said the
+Jew, reading from a small note-book which he had just taken from his
+waistcoat pocket.
+
+"That is some ten thousand more than ever I heard of," said Martin, with
+an hysterical sort of laugh. "Egad, Merl, the fellows were right that
+would not have you in the 'Cercle.' You 'd have 'cleared every man of
+them out,'--as well let a ferret into a rabbit warren."
+
+"I was n't aware,--I had not heard that I was put up--"
+
+"To be sure you were; in all form proposed, seconded, and duly
+blackballed. I own to you, I thought it very hard, very illiberal. There
+are plenty of fellows there that have no right to be particular; and so
+Jack Massingbred as much as told them. The fact is, Merl, you ought to
+have waited awhile, and by the time that Harlowe and Spencer Cavendish
+and a few more such were as deep in your books as I am, you 'd have had
+a walk over. Willoughby says the same. It might have cost you something
+smart, but you 'd have made it pay in the end,--eh, Merl?"
+
+To this speech, uttered in a strain of jocular impertinence, Merl made
+no reply. He had just torn one of his gloves in pieces in the effort
+to draw it on, and he was busily exerting himself to get rid of the
+fragments.
+
+"Lady Dorothea had given me a card for you for Saturday," resumed the
+Captain; "but as you 're going away--Besides, after this defeat at
+the Club, you could n't well come amongst all these people; so there's
+nothing for it but patience, Merl, patience--"
+
+"A lesson that may be found profitable to others, perhaps," said the
+Jew, with one of his furtive looks at the Captain, who quailed under it
+at once.
+
+"I was going to give you a piece of advice, Merl," said he, in a tone
+the very opposite to his late bantering one. "It was, that you should
+just take a run over to Ireland yourself, and see the property."
+
+"I mean to do so, Captain Martin," said the other, calmly.
+
+"I can't offer you letters, for they would defeat what you desire to
+accomplish; besides, there is no member of the family there at present
+but a young lady-cousin of mine."
+
+"Just the kind of introduction I 'd like," said the Jew, with all the
+zest of a man glad to say what he knew would be deemed an impertinence.
+
+Martin grew crimson with suppressed anger, but never spoke a word.
+
+"Is this the Cousin Mary I have heard you speak of," said Merl,--"the
+great horsewoman, and she that ventures out alone on the Atlantic in a
+mere skiff?"
+
+Martin nodded. His temper was almost an overmatch for him, and he dared
+not trust himself to speak.
+
+"I should like to see her amazingly, Captain," resumed Merl.
+
+"Remember, sir, you have no lien upon _her_," said Martin, sternly.
+
+The Jew smirked and ran his fingers through his hair with the air of one
+who deemed such an eventuality by no means so very remote.
+
+"Do you know, Master Merl," said Martin, staring at him from head
+to foot with an expression the reverse of complimentary, "I 'm half
+disposed to give you a few lines to my cousin; and if you 'll not take
+the thing as a _mauvais plaisanterie_ on my part, I will do so.". "Quite
+the contrary, Captain. I 'll deem it a great favor, indeed," said Merl,
+with an admirable affectation of unconsciousness.
+
+"Here goes, then," said Martin, sitting down to a table, and preparing
+his writing materials, while in a hurried hand he began:--
+
+"'Dear Cousin Mary,--This will introduce to you Mr. Herman Merl, who
+visits your remote regions on a tour of----What shall I say?"
+
+"Pleasure,--amusement," interposed Merl.
+
+"No, when I _am_ telling a fib, I like a big one,--I 'll say,
+philanthropy, Merl; and there's nothing so well adapted to cover those
+secret investigations you are bent upon,--a tour of philanthropy.
+
+"'You will, I am sure, lend him all possible assistance in his
+benevolent object,--the same being to dispose of the family acres,--and
+at the same time direct his attention to whatever may be matter of
+interest,--whether mines, quarries, or other property easily convertible
+into cash,--treating him in all respects as one to whom I owe many
+obligations--and several thousand pounds.'
+
+"Will that do, think you?"
+
+"Perfectly; nothing better."
+
+"In return, I shall ask one favor at your hands," said Martin, as
+he folded and addressed the epistle. "It is that you write me a full
+account of what you see in the West,--how the country looks, and the
+people. Of course it will all seem terribly poor and destitute, and all
+that sort of thing, to your eyes; but just try and find out if it be
+worse than usual. Paddy is such a shrewd fellow, Merl, that it will
+require all your own sharpness not to be taken in by him. A long letter
+full of detail--a dash of figures in it--as to how many sheep have the
+rot, or how many people have caught the fever, will improve it,--you
+know the kind of thing I mean; and--I don't suppose you care about
+shooting, yourself, but you 'll get some one to tell you--are the birds
+plenty and in good condition. There's a certain Mr. Scanlan, if you
+chance upon him; he 's up to everything, and not a bad performer at
+dummy whist,--though I think _you_ could teach him a thing or two." Merl
+smiled and tried to look flattered, while the other went on: "And there
+'s another, called Henderson,--the steward,--a very shrewd person,--but
+_you_ don't need all these particulars; you may be trusted to your own
+good guidance,--eh, Merl?"
+
+Merl again smiled in the same fashion as before; in fact, so completely
+had he resumed the bland expression habitual to him, that the
+Captain almost forgot the unpleasant cause of his visit, and all the
+disagreeable incidents of the interview.
+
+"You could n't give me a few lines to this Mr. Scanlan?" asked Merl,
+with an air of easy indifference.
+
+"Nothing easier," cried the Captain, reseating himself; then suddenly
+rising, with the expression of one to whom a sudden thought had just
+crossed the mind, "Wait one second for me here, Merl; I'll be back with
+you at once." And as he spoke he dashed out of the room, and hastened to
+his father.
+
+"By a rare piece of luck," cried he, as he entered, "I 've just chanced
+upon the very fellow we want; an acquaintance I picked up at the
+Cape,--up to everything; he goes over to Ireland to-night, and he 'll
+take a run down to Cro' Martin, and send us his report of all he sees.
+Whatever he tells us may be relied upon; for, depend upon 't, no lady
+can humbug _him_. I 've just given him a note for Mary, and I 'll write
+a few lines also by way of introducing him to Scanlan."
+
+Martin could barely follow the Captain, as with rapid utterance he
+poured forth this plan. "Do I know him? What's his name?" asked he at
+last.
+
+"You never saw him. His name is Merl,--Herman Merl,--a fellow of
+considerable wealth; a great speculator,--one of those Stock Exchange
+worthies who never deal in less than tens of thousands. He has a
+crotchet in his head about buying up half the West of Ireland,--some
+scheme about flax and the deep-sea fishery. I don't understand it, but
+I suppose _he_ does. At all events, he has plenty of money, and the head
+to make it fructify; and if he only take a liking to it, he 's the very
+fellow to buy up Kilkieran, and the islands, and the rest of that waste
+district you were telling me of t'other night. But I must n't detain
+him. He starts at four o'clock; and I only ran over here to tell you not
+to worry yourself any more about Mary's letter. He 'll look to it all."
+
+And with this consolatory assurance the Captain hastened away, leaving
+Martin as much relieved in mind as an indolent nature and an easy
+conscience were sure to make him. To get anybody "to look to" anything
+had been his whole object in life; to know that, whatever happened,
+there was always somebody who misstated this, or neglected that, at
+whose door all the culpability--where there was such--could be laid
+and but for whom he had himself performed miracles of energy and
+devotedness, and endured all the tortures and trials of a martyr. He
+was, indeed, as are a great many others in this world, an excellent man
+to his own heart,--kind, charitable, and affectionate; a well-wisher
+to his kind, and hopeful of almost every one; but, all this while, his
+virtues, like a miser's gold, had no circulation; they remained locked
+up within him for his own use alone, and there he sat, counting them
+over and gazing at them, speculating upon all that this affluence could
+do, and--never doing it!
+
+Life abounds with such men. They win respect while they live, and white
+marble records their virtues when they die! Nor are they all useless.
+Their outward bearing at least simulates whatever we revere in good men,
+and we accept them in the same spirit of compromise as we take stucco
+for stone; if they do no more, they show our appreciation of the "real
+article."
+
+The Captain was not long in inditing a short note to Scanlan, to whom,
+"strictly confidential," Mr. Merl was introduced as a great capitalist
+and speculator, desirous to ascertain all the resources of the land.
+Scanlan was enjoined to show him every attention, making his visit in
+all respects as agreeable as possible.
+
+"This fellow will treat you well, Merl," said the Captain, as he folded
+the letter; "will give you the best salmon you ever tasted, and a glass
+of Gordon's Madeira such as few could sport now-a-days. And if you
+have a fancy for a day with my Cousin Mary's hounds, he 'll mount you
+admirably, and show you the way besides." And with this speech Martin
+wished him good-bye; and closing the door after him, added, "And if
+he'll kindly assist you to a broken neck, it's about the greatest
+service he could render me!"
+
+The laugh, silly and meaningless, that followed his utterance of this
+speech, showed that it was spoken in all the listlessness of one who had
+not really character enough to be even a "good hater."
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VII. THE CLUB
+
+So little impression had Merl's gloomy forebodings made upon Captain
+Martin, that he actually forgot everything that this shrewd gentleman
+predicted, and only partially recalled them when the conversation the
+next morning at the Club turned on the disturbed state of the capital.
+People in "society" find it excessively difficult to believe in anything
+like an organized opposition to the authorities of a government. They
+are so accustomed to hear of street assemblages being scattered by a few
+soldiers, mobs routed by a handful of mounted policemen, that they are
+slow to imagine how any formidable movement can take its rise in such a
+source. But the maladies of states, like those of the human frame,
+are often mere trifles in their origin; chance, and the concurrence of
+events swell their importance, till they assume an aspect of perhaps
+greater menace than they deserve. This is essentially the case in
+revolutionary struggles, where, at the outset, none ever contemplates
+the extent to which the mischief may reach. The proclamation of the
+"Ordinances," as they were called, had produced a great excitement
+in Paris. Groups of men in every street were gathered around some one
+reading aloud the violent commentaries of the public papers; thoughtful
+and stern faces were met at every corner; a look of expectancy--an
+expression that seemed to say, What next?--was perceptible on all sides.
+Many of the shops were half closed, and in some the objects of great
+value were withdrawn to places of greater security. It was clear to see
+that men apprehended some great crisis; but whence it should come, or by
+whose instrumentality promoted, none seemed able to guess. Now and then
+a mounted orderly would ride by at a smart trot, or a patrol party
+of dragoons dash past; and the significant glance that followed them
+indicated how full of meaning these signs appeared.
+
+The day passed in this state of anxious uncertainty; and although the
+journals discussed the condition of the capital as full of danger and
+menace, an ostentatious announcement in the "Moniteur" proclaimed Paris
+to be tranquil. In society--at least in the world of fashion and high
+life--there were very few who would have disputed the official despatch.
+"Who and what were they who could dispute the King's Government? Who and
+where were there either leaders or followers? In what way should they
+attempt it? The troops in and around Paris numbered something over forty
+thousand, commanded by an old Marshal of the Empire, now the trustiest
+adherent of royalty. The days of Mirabeaus and Robespierres and Dantons
+had passed away; nor were these times in which men would like to recall
+the reigns of terror and the guillotine." So they reasoned--or, if the
+phrase be too strong, so they talked--who lounged on soft-cushioned
+ottomans, or moved listlessly over luxurious carpets; all agreeing that
+it would be treasonable in the Ministers to retreat or abate one jot of
+the high prerogative of the Crown. Powdered heads shook significantly,
+and gold-embroidered vests heaved indignantly at the bare thought that
+the old spirit of '95 should have survived amongst them; but not one
+dreamed that the event boded seriously, or that the destinies of a great
+nation were then in the balance.
+
+It is but five-and-twenty years ago; and how much more have we learned
+of the manufacture of revolutions in the interval! Barricades and street
+warfare have become a science, and the amount of resistance a half-armed
+populace can offer to a regular force is as much a matter of certainty
+as a mathematical theorem. At that period, however, men were but in
+the infancy of this knowledge; the traditions of the Great Revolution
+scarcely were remembered, and, for the most part, they were
+inapplicable.
+
+What wonder, then, if people in society smiled scornfully at the
+purposeless masses that occasionally moved past beneath their windows,
+shouting with discordant voices some fragments of the "Marseillaise,"
+or, as they approached the residence of any in authority, venturing
+on the more daring cry of "Down with the Ordinances!" The same tone of
+haughty contempt pervaded the "Club." Young men of fashion, little given
+to the cares of political life, and really indifferent to the action of
+laws which never invaded the privileges of the play-table, or curtailed
+one prerogative of the "Coulisses," felt an angry impatience at all the
+turbulence and riot of the public streets.
+
+In a magnificently furnished salon of the Club a number of these young
+men were now assembled. Gathered from every nation of Europe,--many of
+them bearing names of high historical interest,--they were, so far as
+dress, air, and appearance went, no ignoble representatives of the
+class they belonged to. The proud and haughty Spaniard, the fierce-eyed,
+daring-looking Pole, the pale, intellectual-faced Italian, the courteous
+Russian, and the fair-haired, stalwart Saxon were all there; and,
+however dissimilar in type, banded together by the magic influence of
+the "set" they moved in, to an almost perfect uniformity of sentiment
+and opinion.
+
+"I vote that any man be fined ten Louis that alludes, however remotely,
+to this confounded question again," cried Count Gardoni, rising
+impatiently from his chair and approaching a card-table.
+
+"And I second you!" exclaimed a Polish prince, with a Russian decoration
+at his button-hole.
+
+"Carried _nem. con._" said Captain Martin, seating himself at the
+play-table. "And now for the 'Lansquenet.'" And in a moment every seat
+was occupied, and purses of gold and pocket-books of bank-notes were
+strewed over the board. They were all men who played high; and the game
+soon assumed the grave character that so invariably accompanies large
+wagers. Wonderfully little passed, except the terms of the game itself.
+Gambling is a jealous passion, and never admits its votaries to wander
+in their attention. And now large sums passed from hand to hand, and all
+the passions of hope and fear racked heads and hearts around, while a
+decorous silence prevailed; or, when broken, some softly toned voice
+alone interrupted the stillness.
+
+"Are you going, Martin?" whispered the young French Count de Nevers, as
+the other moved noiselessly back from the table.
+
+"It is high time, I think," said Martin; "this is my seventeenth night
+of losing,--losing heavily, too. I'm sick of it!"
+
+"Here 's a chance for you, Martin," said a Russian prince, who had just
+assumed "the bank." "You shall have your choice of color, and your own
+stake."
+
+"Thanks; but I'll not be tempted."
+
+"I say red, and a thousand francs," cried a Neapolitan.
+
+"There 's heavier play outside, I suspect," said Martin, as a wild,
+hoarse shout from the streets re-echoed through the room.
+
+"A fine,--a fine,--Martin is fined!" cried several around the table.
+
+"You have n't left me wherewithal to pay it, gentlemen," said he,
+laughing. "I was just about to retire, a bankrupt, into private life."
+
+"That's platoon fire," exclaimed the Pole, as the loud detonation of
+small arms seemed to shake the very room.
+
+"Czernavitz also fined," cried two together.
+
+"I bow in submission to the Court," said the Pole, throwing down the
+money on the table.
+
+"Lend _me_ as much more," said Martin; "it may change my luck." And with
+this gambler's philosophy, he again drew nigh the table.
+
+This slight interruption over, the game proceeded as before. Martin,
+however, was now a winner, every wager succeeding, and every bet he made
+a gain.
+
+"There's nothing like a dogged persistence," said the Russian. "Fortune
+never turns her back on him who shows constancy. See Martin, now; by
+that very resolution he has conquered, and here we are, all cleared
+out!"
+
+"I am, for one," cried an Italian, flinging his empty purse on the
+table.
+
+"There's my last Louis," said Nevers. "I reserve it to pay for my
+supper."
+
+"Martin shall treat us all to supper!" exclaimed another.
+
+"Where shall it be, then?" said Martin; "here, or at my own quarters?"
+
+"Here, by all means," cried some.
+
+"I 'm for the Place Vend�me," said the Pole, "for who knows but we shall
+catch a glimpse of that beautiful girl, Martin's 'Belle Irlandaise.'"
+
+"I saw her to-night," said the Italian, "and I own she _is_ all you say.
+She was speaking to Villemart, and I assure you the old Minister won't
+forget it in a hurry. Something or other he said about the noise in the
+street drew from him the word _canaille_. She turned round at once and
+attacked him. He replied, and the controversy grew warm; so much so,
+that many gathered around them to listen, amongst whom I saw the Duc
+de Guiche, Prince du Saulx, and the Austrian Minister. Nothing could be
+more perfect than her manner,--calm, without any effrontery; assured,
+and yet no sacrifice of delicacy. It was easy to see, too, that the
+theme was not one into which she stumbled by an accident; she knew every
+event of the Great Revolution, and used the knowledge with consummate
+skill, and, but for one slip, with consummate temper also.
+
+"What was the slip you allude to?" cried the Russian.
+
+"It was when Villemart, after a boastful enumeration of the superior
+merits of his order, called them the 'Enlighteners of the People.'
+
+"'You played that part on one occasion,' said she; 'but I scarcely
+thought you 'd like to refer to it.'
+
+"'How so? When do you mean?' asked he.
+
+"'When they hung you to the lanterns,' said she, with the energy of
+a tigress in her look. Pardi�! at that moment I never saw anything so
+beautiful or so terrible."
+
+A loud uproar in the street without, in which the sound of troop-horses
+passaging to and fro could be distinguished, now interrupted the
+colloquy. As the noise increased, a low, deep roar, like the sound of
+distant thunder, could be heard, and the Pole cried out,--"Messieurs les
+Sans-culottes, I strongly advise you to turn homewards, for, if I be not
+much mistaken, here comes the artillery."
+
+"The affair may turn out a serious one, after all," broke in the
+Italian.
+
+"A serious one!" echoed the Pole, scornfully. "How can it? Forty
+battalions of infantry, ten thousand sabres, and eight batteries; are
+they not enough, think you, to rout this contemptible herd of street
+rioters?"
+
+"There--listen! It has begun already!" exclaimed Martin, as the sharp
+report of fire-arms, quite close to the windows, was followed by a
+crash, and then a wild, mad shout, half rage, half defiance.
+
+"There's nothing for it, in these things, but speedy action," said
+the Pole; "grape and cavalry charges to clear the streets, and rifle
+practice at anything that shows itself at the windows."
+
+"It is so easy, so very easy, to crush a mob," said the Russian, "if you
+only direct your attention to the leader,--think of nothing but _him_.
+Once you show that, whatever may be the fate of others, death must be
+his, the whole assemblage becomes a disorganized, unwieldy mass, to be
+sabred or shot down at pleasure."
+
+"Soldiers have no fancy for this kind of warfare," said De Nevers,
+haughtily; "victory is never glorious, defeat always humiliation."
+
+"But who talks of defeat?" exclaimed the Pole, passionately. "The
+officer who could fail against such an enemy should be shot by a
+court-martial. We have, I believe, every man of us here, served; and
+I asked you, what disproportion of force could suggest a doubt of
+success?"
+
+As he spoke, the door of the room was suddenly opened, and a young
+man, with dress all disordered, and the fragment of a hat in his hand,
+entered.
+
+"What, Massingbred!" cried one, "how came you to be so roughly handled?"
+
+"So much for popular politeness!" exclaimed the Russian, as he took up
+the tattered remains of a dress-coat, and exhibited it to the others.
+
+"Pardon me, Prince," replied Massingbred, as he filled a glass of
+water and drank it off, "this courtesy I received at the hands of the
+military. I was turning my cab from the Boulevard to enter this street,
+when a hoarse challenge of a sentry, saying I know not what, attracted
+my attention. I drew up short to learn, and then suddenly came a rush
+of the people from behind, which terrified my horse, and set him off at
+speed; the uproar increasing, the affrighted animal dashed madly onward,
+the crowd flying on every side, when suddenly a bullet whizzed past my
+head, cutting my hat in two; a second, at the same instant, struck my
+horse, and killed him on the spot, cab and all rolling over as he fell.
+How I arose, gained my legs, and was swept away by the dense torrent of
+the populace, are events of which I am very far from clear. I only know
+that although the occurrence happened within half an hour ago, it seems
+to _me_ an affair of days since."
+
+"You were, doubtless, within some line of outposts when first
+challenged," said the Pole, "and the speed at which you drove was
+believed to be an arranged plan of attack, for you say the mob followed
+you."
+
+"Very possibly your explanation is the correct one," said Massingbred,
+coolly; "but I looked for more steadiness and composure from the troops,
+while I certainly did not anticipate so much true courtesy and kindness
+as I met with from the people."
+
+"Parbleu! here's Massingbred becoming Democrat," said one. "The next
+thing we shall hear is his defence of a barricade."
+
+"You'll assuredly not hear that I attacked one in such company as
+inflicted all this upon me," rejoined he, with an easy smile.
+
+"Here's the man to captivate your 'Belle Irlandaise,' Martin," cried
+one. "Already is he a hero and a martyr to Royal cruelty."
+
+"Ah! you came too late to hear that," said the Pole, in a whisper to
+Massingbred; "but it seems La Henderson became quite a Charlotte Corday
+this evening, and talked more violent Republicanism than has been heard
+in a salon since the days of old �galit�."
+
+"All lights must be extinguished, gentlemen," said the waiter, entering
+hastily. "The street is occupied by troops, and you must pass out by the
+Rue de Grenelle."
+
+"Are the mobs not dispersing, then?" asked the Russian.
+
+"No, your Highness. They have beaten back the troops from the Quai
+Voltaire, and are already advancing on the Louvre."
+
+"What absurdity!" exclaimed the Pole. "If the troops permit this, there
+is treason amongst them."
+
+"I can answer for it there is terror, at least," said Massingbred.
+"All the high daring and spirit is with what you would call the
+Sans-culottes."
+
+"That a man should talk this way because he has lost a cab-horse!" cried
+the Pole, insolently.
+
+"There are men who can bear the loss of a country with more
+equanimity,--I know that," whispered Massingbred in his ear, with all
+the calm sternness of an insult.
+
+"You mean this for _me?_" said the Pole, in a low voice.
+
+"Of course I do," was the answer.
+
+"Where?--when?--how?" muttered the Pole, in suppressed passion.
+
+"I leave all at your disposal," said Massingbred, smiling at the other's
+effort to control his rage.
+
+"At Versailles,--to-morrow morning,--pistols."
+
+Massingbred bowed, and turned away. At the same instant the waiter
+entered to say that the house must be cleared at once, or all within it
+consent to remain close prisoners.
+
+"Come along, Martin," said Massingbred, taking his arm. "I shall want
+you to do me a favor. Let us make our escape by the Rue de Grenelle, and
+I 'll engage to pilot you safely to your own quarters."
+
+"Has anything passed between you and Czernavitz?" asked Martin, as they
+gained the street.
+
+"A slight exchange of civilities which requires an exchange of shots,"
+said Jack, calmly.
+
+"By George! I 'm sorry for it. He can hit a franc-piece at thirty
+paces."
+
+"So can I, Martin; and, what's more, Anatole knows it. He's as brave
+as a lion, and it is my confounded skill has pushed him on to this
+provocation."
+
+"He 'll shoot you," muttered Martin, in a half revery.
+
+"Not impossible," said Massingbred. "He's a fellow who cannot conceal
+his emotions, and will show at once what he means to do."
+
+"Well, what of that?"
+
+"Simply, that if he intends mischief I shall know it, and send a bullet
+through his heart."
+
+Little as Martin had seen of Massingbred,--they were but Club
+acquaintances of a few weeks back,--he believed that he was one of those
+smart, versatile men who, with abundance of social ability, acquire
+reputation for higher capacity than they possess; but, above all, he
+never gave him credit for anything like a settled purpose or a stern
+resolution. It was, then, with considerable astonishment that he now
+heard him avow this deadly determination with all the composure that
+could vouch for its sincerity. There was, however, little time to think
+of these things. The course they were driven to follow, by by-streets
+and alleys, necessitated a long and difficult way. The great
+thoroughfares which they crossed at intervals were entirely in the
+possession of the troops, who challenged them as they approached, and
+only suffered them to proceed when well satisfied with their account.
+The crowds had all dispersed, and to the late din and tumult there had
+succeeded the deep silence of a city sunk in sleep, only broken by the
+hoarse call of the sentinels, or the distant tramp of a patrol.
+
+"It is all over, I suppose," said Martin. "The sight of the
+eight-pounders and the dark caissons has done the work."
+
+"I don't think so," said Massingbred, "nor do the troops think so.
+These mobs are not like ours in England, who, with plenty of individual
+courage, are always poltroons in the mass. These fellows understand
+fighting as an art, know how to combine their movements, arrange
+the modes of attack or defence, can measure accurately the means
+of resistance opposed to them, and, above all, understand how to be
+led,--something far more difficult than it seems. In _my_ good borough
+of Oughterard,--or yours, rather, Martin, for I have only a loan of
+it,--a few soldiers--the army, as they would call them--would sweep the
+whole population before them. Our countrymen can get up a row, these
+fellows can accomplish a revolt,--there's the difference."
+
+"And have they any real, substantial grievance that demands such an
+expiation?"
+
+"Who knows?" said he, laughingly. "There never was a Government too bad
+to live under,--there never was one exempt from great vices. Half the
+political disturbances the world has witnessed have arisen from causes
+remote from State Government; a deficient harvest, a dear loaf, the
+liberty of the Press invaded,--a tyranny always resented by those who
+can't read,--are common causes enough. But here we are now at the Place
+Vend�me, and certainly one should say the odds are against the people."
+
+Massingbred said truly. Two battalions of infantry, with a battery of
+guns in position, were flanked by four squadrons of Cuirassiers, the
+formidable array filling the entire "Place," and showing by their air
+and attitude their readiness for any eventuality. A chance acquaintance
+with one of the staff enabled Massingbred and Martin to pass through
+their lines and arrive at their hotel.
+
+"Remember," said the officer who accompanied them, "that you are close
+prisoners now. My orders are that nobody is to leave the Place under any
+pretext."
+
+"Why, you can scarcely suspect that the Government has enemies in this
+aristocratic quarter?" said Massingbred, smiling.
+
+"We have them everywhere," was the brief answer, as he bowed and turned
+away.
+
+"I scarcely see how I'm to keep my appointment at Versailles to-morrow
+morning," said Massingbred, as he followed Martin up the spacious
+stairs. "Happily, Czernavitz knows me, and will not misinterpret my
+absence."
+
+"Not to say that he may be unable himself to get there," said Martin.
+As he spoke, they had reached the door, opening which with his key, the
+Captain motioned to Massingbred to enter.
+
+Massingbred stopped suddenly, and in a voice of deep meaning said, "Your
+father lives here?"
+
+"Yes,--what then?" asked Martin.
+
+"Only that I have no right to pass his threshold," said the other, in
+a low voice. "I was his guest once, and I 'm not sure that I repaid the
+hospitality as became me. You were away at the time."
+
+"You allude to that stupid election affair," said Martin. "I can only
+say that I never did, never could understand it. My only feeling was
+one of gratitude to you for saving me from being member for the
+borough. Come along," said he, taking his arm; "this is no time for your
+scruples, at all events."
+
+"No, Martin, I cannot," said the other. "I 'd rather walk up to one of
+those nine-pounders there than present myself to your lady-mother--"
+
+"But you needn't. You are _my_ guest; these are _my_ quarters. You shall
+see nobody but myself till you leave this. Remember what the Captain
+told us; we are prisoners here." And without waiting for a reply, Martin
+pushed him before him into the room.
+
+"Two o'clock," said Massingbred, looking at his watch; "and we are to be
+at Versailles by eight."
+
+"Well, leave all the care of that to me," said Martin; "and do you throw
+yourself on the bed there, and take some rest. Without you prefer to sup
+first?"
+
+"No, an hour's sleep is what I stand most in need of; and so I 'll say
+good-night."
+
+Massingbred said this less that he wanted repose than a brief interval
+to be alone with his own thoughts. And now, as he closed his eyes to
+affect sleep, it was really to commune with his own heart, and reflect
+over what had just occurred.
+
+Independently that he liked Czernavitz personally, he was sorry for a
+quarrel at such a moment. There was a great game about to be played, and
+a mere personal altercation seemed something small and contemptible in
+the face of such events. "What will be said of us," thought he, "but
+that we were a pair of hot-headed fools, thinking more of a miserable
+interchange of weak sarcasms than of the high destinies of a whole
+nation? And it was _my_ fault," added he to himself; "I had no right to
+reproach him with a calamity hard enough to bear, even without its
+being a reproach. What a strange thing is life, after all!" thought
+he; "everything of greatest moment that occurs in it the upshot of an
+accident,--my going to Ireland, my visit to the West, my election, my
+meeting with Kate Henderson, and now this duel." And, so ruminating, he
+dropped off into a sound sleep, undisturbed by sounds that might well
+have broken the heaviest slumber.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VIII. AN EVENING OF ONE OP THE "THREE DAYS"
+
+On the evening which witnessed these events Lady Dorothea's "reception"
+had been more than usually brilliant. Numbers had come to show of
+how little moment they deemed this "street disturbance," as they were
+pleased to call it; others, again, were curious to pick up in society
+the opinions formed on what was passing, among whom were several high
+in the favor of the Court and the confidence of the Government. All, as
+they arrived, had some little anecdote or adventure to relate as to the
+difficulties which beset them on the way,--the distances which they were
+obliged to travel, the obstructions and passwords and explanations which
+met them at every turn. These were all narrated in the easy, jocular
+tone of passing trifles, the very inconvenience of which suggested its
+share of amusement.
+
+As the evening wore on, even these became less frequent; the streets
+were already thinning, and, except in some remote, unimportant parts of
+the capital, the troops were in possession of all the thoroughfares. Of
+course, the great topic of conversation was the bold stroke of policy
+then enacting,--a measure which all pronounced wise and just, and
+eminently called for.
+
+To have heard the sentiments then uttered, the disparaging opinions
+expressed of the middle and humbler classes, the hopelessness of ever
+seeing them sufficiently impressed with their own inferiority, the
+adulation bestowed on the monarch and all around him, one might really
+have fancied himself back again at the Tuileries in the time of Louis
+the Fourteenth. All agreed in deeming the occasion an excellent one to
+give the people a salutary lesson; and it was really pleasant to see
+the warm interest taken by these high and distinguished persons in the
+fortunes of their less happy countrymen.
+
+To Lady Dorothea's ears no theme could be more grateful; and she moved
+from group to group, delighted to mingle her congratulations with those
+around, and exchange her hopes and aspirations and wishes with theirs.
+Kate Henderson, upon whom habitually devolved the chief part in these
+"receptions," was excited and flurried in manner; a more than ordinary
+effort to please being dashed, as it were, by some secret anxiety, and
+the expectation of some coming event. Had there been any one to watch
+her movements, he might have seen the eagerness with which she listened
+to each new account of the state of the capital, and how impatiently
+she drank in the last tidings from the streets; nor less marked was the
+expression of proud scorn upon her features, as she heard the insulting
+estimate of the populace, and the vainglorious confidence in the
+soldiery. But more than all these was her haughty indignation as she
+listened to the confused, mistaken opinions uttered on every side as to
+the policy of the Government and the benevolent intentions of the king.
+Once, and only once, did she forget the prudent resolve she wished to
+impose upon herself; but temper and caution and reserve gave way, as
+she heard a very distinguished person amusing a circle around him by an
+unfair and unfaithful portraiture of the great leaders of '92. It was
+then, when stung by the odious epithet of _canaille_ applied to those
+for whose characters she entertained a deep devotion, that she forgot
+everything, and in a burst of indignant eloquence overwhelmed and
+refuted the speaker. This was the moment, too, in which she replied to
+Villemart by a word of terrible ferocity. Had the red cap of Liberty
+itself been suddenly hoisted in that brilliant assemblage, the dread and
+terror which arose could scarcely have been greater.
+
+"Where are we?" cried the Marquise de Longueville. "I thought we were in
+the Place de Vend�me, and I find myself in the Faubourg St. Antoine!"
+
+"Does my Lady know that her friend and confidante is a Girondist of the
+first water?" said an ex-Minister.
+
+"Who could have suspected the spirit of Marat under the mask of Ninon de
+l'Enclos?" muttered Villemart.
+
+"What is this I hear, dearest Kate?" cried the Duchesse de Mirecourt,
+as she drew the young girl's arm within her own. "They tell me you have
+terrified every one,--that Madame de Soissons has gone home ill, and the
+old Chevalier de Gardonnes has sent for his confessor."
+
+"I have been very rash, very foolish," said Kate, as a deadly pallor
+came over her; "but I could bear it no longer. Besides, what does it
+matter? They 'll hear worse, and bear it too, before three days are
+over."
+
+"Then it is all true?" cried the Duchess, eagerly. "You told Villemart
+that when the Government spoke with grape-shot, the people replied with
+the guillotine!"
+
+"Not exactly," said Kate, with a faint smile. "But are they all going?"
+
+"Of course they are. You have frightened them almost to death; and I
+know you only meant it for jest,--one of those little half-cruel jests
+you were ever fond of. Come with me and say so,--come, dearest." And she
+drew her, as she spoke, into the crowded salon, now already a scene of
+excited leave-taking. The brilliant company, however, fell back as they
+came forward, and an expression of mingled dismay and compassion was
+turned towards the young Duchess, who with a kind of heroic courage drew
+Kate's arm closer within her own.
+
+"I am come to make an explanation, messieurs et mesdames," said the
+Duchess, with her most captivating smile; "pray vouchsafe me a hearing.
+My friend--my dearest, best friend here--has, in a moment of sportive
+pleasantry, suffered herself to jest--"
+
+"It was a jest, then?" broke in Madame de Longueville, haughtily.
+
+"Just as that is," replied Kate, lifting her hand and pointing in the
+direction whence came a terrible crash of artillery, followed by the
+rattle of musketry.
+
+"Let us go,--let us away!" was now heard in affrighted accents on every
+side; and the splendid assemblage, with less of ceremony than might be
+expected, began to depart. Lady Dorothea alone was ignorant of what had
+occurred, and witnessed this sudden leave-taking with amazement. "You
+are surely not afraid?" said she to one; "there is nothing serious in
+all this."
+
+"She has told us the reverse, my Lady," was the reply. "We should be
+compromised to remain longer in her company."
+
+"Adieu, my Lady. I wish we left you in safer companionship."
+
+"Farewell, Madame, and pray be warned of your danger," whispered
+another.
+
+"Your Ladyship may be called upon to acquit debts contracted by another,
+if Mademoiselle continues a member of your family," said Villemart, as
+he bowed his departure.
+
+"Believe me, Madame, none of us include _you_ in the terrible sentiments
+we have listened to."
+
+These, and a vast number of similar speeches attended the leave-taking
+of nearly each of her guests, till Lady Dorothea, confused, almost
+stunned by reiterated shocks, sat silently accepting these mysterious
+announcements, and almost imagining herself in all the bewilderment of a
+dream.
+
+Twice she made an effort to ask some explanation, but failed; and it was
+only as the Duchesse de Mirecourt drew nigh to say farewell, that in a
+faint, weak voice she said,--"Can you tell me what all are hinting at,
+or am I only confusing myself with the terrible scenes without?"
+
+"I 'd have prevented it had I been near. I only heard it when too late,
+my Lady," said the Duchess, sorrowfully.
+
+"Prevented what?--heard what?" cried Lady Dorothea.
+
+"Besides, she has often said as much amongst ourselves; we only laughed,
+as indeed every one would do now, did not events present so formidable
+an aspect."
+
+"Who is she you speak of? Tell me, I beseech you. What does this mean?"
+
+"I am the culprit, my Lady," said Kate, approaching with all the
+quiet stateliness of her peculiar manner. "I have routed this gorgeous
+assembly, shocked your most distinguished guests, and horrified all
+whose sentiments breathe loyalty! I am sincerely sorry for my offence;
+and it is a grave one."
+
+"_You--you_ have dared to do this?"
+
+"Too true, madam," rejoined Kate.
+
+"How and to whom have you had the insolence--"
+
+She stopped, overcome by passion; and Kate replied,--"To all who pleased
+to listen, my Lady, I have said what doubtless is not often uttered in
+such choice company, but what, if I mistake not greatly, their ears will
+grow familiar with erelong."
+
+"Nay, nay," said the Duchess, in a tone of apology, "the matter is not
+so serious as all this. Every one now is terrified. This disturbance,
+the soldiery, the vast crowds that beset the streets, have all produced
+so much excitement that even a few words spoken at random are enough
+to cause fear. It is one of Kate's fancies to terrorize thus over weak
+minds. She has the cruel triumph of not knowing what fear is. In a word,
+it is a mere trifling event, sure to be forgotten in the midst of such
+scenes as we are passing through."
+
+This attempt at explanation, poured forth with rapid utterance, did not
+produce on Lady Dorothea the conviction it was intended to impose, and
+her Ladyship received the last adieus of the Duchess with a cold and
+stately formality; and then, as the door closed after her, turned to
+Kate Henderson, and said,--"I want _your_ explanation of all this. Let
+me have it."
+
+"It is easily given, my Lady," said Kate, calmly. And then, in a voice
+that never trembled nor varied, she narrated briefly the scene which
+had just occurred, not extenuating in the slightest her own share in the
+transaction, or offering a single syllable of excuse.
+
+"And you, being who and what you are, dared thus to outrage the best
+blood of France!" exclaimed Lady Dorothea, trembling all over with
+passion.
+
+"Perhaps, my Lady, if I sought for an apology, it would be in the fact
+of being who and what I am."
+
+"And do you imagine that after conduct such as this, after exposing me
+to a partnership in the shame that attaches to yourself, that you are
+any longer to enjoy the shelter of my roof?"
+
+"It never occurred to me to think of that, madam," said Kate, with an
+ill-repressed scorn.
+
+"Then it is for _me_ to remind you of it," said her Ladyship, sternly.
+"You shall, first of all, write me an humble apology for this vulgar
+tirade, this outrage upon my company, and then you shall leave the
+house. Sit down there, and write as I shall dictate to you."
+
+Kate seated herself with an air of implicit obedience at a
+writing-table, and took up a pen.
+
+"Write," cried Lady Dorothea, sternly. "Begin, 'My Lady.' No. 'I
+approach your Ladyship for the last time.' No, not that. 'If the sincere
+sorrow in which I pen these lines.' No. Do it yourself. You best can
+express the shame your heart should feel in such a moment. Let the words
+be your own!"
+
+Kate leaned over the paper and wrote rapidly for a few seconds. Having
+finished, she read over the lines, and seemed to reflect on them.
+
+"Show me that paper!" cried Lady Dorothea, impatiently. But, without
+obeying the command, Kate said,--"Your Ladyship will not be able to
+leave Paris for at least forty hours. By that time the Monarchy will
+have run its course in France. You will probably desire, however, to
+escape from the scenes of turbulence sure to ensue. This will secure you
+a free passage, whichever road you take."
+
+"What raving is all this?" said Lady Dorothea, snatching the paper
+from her hand, and then reading aloud in French,-- "'The authorities
+are required to aid and tender all assistance in their power to Lady
+Dorothea Martin and all who accompany her, neither giving nor suffering
+any opposition to be given to her or them in the prosecution of their
+journey.'
+
+(Signed) "Jules Lagrange,
+
+"'Minister of Police _ad interim_'
+
+"And this in your own hand, too!" exclaimed Lady Dorothea,
+contemptuously.
+
+"Yes, madam; but it will entitle it to the seal of the Prefecture, and
+entitle _you_ to all that it professes."
+
+"So that I have the honor to shelter within my walls a chief of this
+insurrection,--if it be worthy of such a name; one in the confidence of
+this stupid _canaille_, who fancy that the fall of a Monarchy is like a
+row in a _guinguette!_"
+
+"Your Ladyship is no longer in a position to question me or arraign
+my actions. Before two days are over, the pageant of a king will have
+passed off the stage, and men of a different stamp take the direction
+of affairs. One of these will be he whose name I have affixed to that
+paper,--not without due warranty to do so. Your Ladyship may or may not
+choose to avail yourself of it."
+
+"I spurn the imposition," said Lady Dorothea, tearing it in fragments.
+"So poor a cheat could not deceive _me_. As for yourself--"
+
+"Oh, do not bestow a thought upon _me_, my Lady. I can suffice for my
+own guidance. I only wait for morning to leave this house."
+
+"And it is to a city in such a state as this you would confide yourself.
+Truly, mademoiselle, Republicanism has a right to be proud of you. You
+are no half-convert to its principles."
+
+"Am I again to say, my Lady, that your control over me has ceased?"
+
+"It has not. It shall not cease till I have restored you to the humble
+roof from which I took you," said Lady Dorothea, passionately. "Your
+father is our creature; he has no other subsistence than what we
+condescend to bestow on him. He shall know, when you re-enter his doors,
+why and for what cause you are there. Till that time come, you are, as
+you have been, in my service."
+
+"No, my Lady, the tie between us is snapped. Dependence is but a sad
+part at the best; but so long as it is coupled with a certain show of
+respect it is bearable. Destroy _that_, and it is mere slavery, abject
+and degrading. I cannot go back to your Ladyship's service." And she
+gave to the last word an emphasis of intense scorn.
+
+"You must and you shall," said Lady Dorothea. "If _you_ are forgetful
+of what it is your duty to remember, I am not. Here you shall remain;
+without," added she, in an accent of supreme contempt, "your counsel and
+direction shall be sought after by the high and mighty individuals who
+are so soon to administer the affairs of this nation."
+
+The loud roll of a drum, followed by the louder clank of sabres and
+musketry, here startled the speakers; and Kate, hastening to the window,
+opened it, and stepped out upon the balcony. Day was just dawning; a
+gray half-light covered the sky, but the dark shadows of the tall
+houses still stretched over the Place. Here, now, the troops were all in
+motion; a sudden summons having roused them to form in rank. The hasty
+character of the movement showed that some emergency was imminent,--a
+fact confirmed by the frequent arrival and departure of orderlies at
+full speed.
+
+After a brief interval of preparation the infantry formed in column,
+and, followed by the artillery and cavalry, moved out of the Place at
+a quick step. The measured tramp of the foot-soldiers, the clattering
+noise of the train and the dragoons could be heard long after they had
+passed out of sight; and Kate stood listening eagerly as to what would
+come next, when suddenly a man in plain clothes rode hastily from one of
+the side-streets into the centre of the Place. He looked around him for
+a moment or two, and then disappeared. Within a few seconds after, a
+dull, indistinct sound seemed to rise from the ground, which swelled
+gradually louder and louder, and at last grew into the regular footfall
+of a great multitude moving in measured time; and now a vast crowd
+poured into the Place, silent and wordless. On they came from the
+various quarters that opened into the square,--men, for the most part
+clad in blouses or in the coarse garb of laborers. They were armed
+either with musket or sword, and in many instances wore the cross-belt
+of the soldier. They proceeded at once to barricade the square at its
+opening into the Rue de la Paix,--a work which they accomplished with
+astonishing speed and regularity; for, while Kate still looked, a
+formidable rampart was thrown up across the entire street, along which a
+line of armed men was stationed, every one of whom, by his attitude and
+gesture, betrayed the old discipline of a soldier's life. Orders were
+given and obeyed, movements made, and dispositions effected, with
+all the regularity and precision of regular troops; and by the ready
+obedience of all, and the steady attitude observed, it was easy to see
+that these men were trained to arms and to habits of discipline. Not
+less evident was it that they who commanded them were not new to such
+duties. But, more important than all such signs was the fact that here
+and there through the mass might be seen the uniform of a soldier, or
+the epaulette of an officer, showing that desertion to the ranks of the
+people had already begun.
+
+Kate was so occupied in attentive observation of the scene that she had
+not noticed the arrival of another person in the apartment, and whose
+voice now suddenly attracted her. It was Martin himself, hastily aroused
+from his bed by his servant, who in great alarm told him that the
+capital was in open revolt, the king's troops beaten back, and the
+people victorious everywhere. "There 's not a moment to lose," cried
+he; "we must escape while we can. The road to Versailles is yet in
+possession of the troops, and we can take that way."
+
+Lady Dorothea, partly overcome by the late scene, partly stunned by the
+repeated shocks she experienced, made no reply whatever; and Martin,
+judging from the expression of her features the anxiety she was
+suffering, hastily added, "Let me see Kate Henderson,--where is she?"
+
+Lady Dorothea merely pointed towards the balcony, but did not utter a
+word.
+
+"Oh, have I found you?" said Martin, stepping out upon the balcony. "You
+see what is doing,--I might say what is done," added he; "for I believe
+the game is well-nigh decided. Nothing but an overwhelming force will
+now crush this populace. We must get away, and at once. Will you give
+the orders? Send for post-horses; tell them to pack up whatever they
+can,--direct everything, in fact. My Lady is too ill,--too much overcome
+to act, or think of anything. Our whole reliance is upon you." While he
+was yet uttering these broken, disjointed sentences, he had drawn Kate
+by the arm within the room, and now stood beside Lady Dorothea's chair.
+Her Ladyship raised her head and fixed her eyes upon Kate, who sustained
+the gaze calmly and steadily, nor by the slightest movement displayed
+one touch of any emotion. The glance, at first haughty and defiant,
+seemed at length to grow weaker under the unmoved stare of the young
+girl, and finally she bent down her head and sat as though overcome.
+
+"Come, Dora," said Martin, kindly, "rouse yourself; you are always equal
+to an effort when necessity presses. Tell Kate here what you wish, and
+she 'll do it."
+
+"I want no aid,--no assistance, sir. Miss Henderson is her own
+mistress,--she may do what, or go where she pleases."
+
+Martin made a sign to Kate not to mind what he believed to be the mere
+wandering of an over-excited brain; and then bending down over the
+chair, said, "Dear Dora, we must be active and stirring; the people will
+soon be masters of the capital,--for a while, at least,--and there is no
+saying what excesses they will commit."
+
+"Do not offend Miss Henderson, sir," interposed Lady Dorothea; "she has
+equal confidence in their valor and their virtue."
+
+"What does this mean?--when did she fall into this state?" asked he,
+eagerly. And although only spoken in a whisper, Lady Dorothea overheard
+them, and said,--"Let _her_ tell you. She can give you the very fullest
+explanation."
+
+"But, Dora, this is no time for trifling; we are here, in the midst of
+an enraged populace and a maddened soldiery. There, listen!--that was
+artillery; and now, hear!--the bells of the churches are sounding the
+alarm."
+
+"They are ringing the knell of the Monarchy!" said Kate, solemnly.
+
+A hoarse, wild shout--aery like that of enraged wild beasts--arose
+from the Place beneath, and all rushed to the window to see what had
+occurred. It was a charge of heavy cavalry endeavoring to force the
+barricade; and now, vigorously repulsed by the defenders, men and horses
+were rolling on the ground in terrible confusion, while on the barricade
+itself a hand-to-hand conflict was raging.
+
+"Sharp work, by George!" said a voice behind Kate's shoulder. She turned
+and saw Captain Martin, who had just joined them unobserved.
+
+"I thought you many a mile away," said Kate, in a whisper.
+
+"So I should have been," replied he, in the same tone, "but I was n't
+going to lose this. I knew it was to come off to-day, and I thought it
+would have been a thousand pities to be absent."
+
+"And are your wishes, then, with these gallant fellows?" said she,
+eagerly. "Do I hear you aright, that it was to aid them you remained?
+There! see how they bear down on the soldiery; they will not be
+restrained; they are crossing the barricade, and charging with the
+bayonet. It is only for liberty that men can fight thus. Oh that I were
+a man, to be amongst them!"
+
+A stray shot from beneath here struck the architrave above their heads,
+and sent down a mass of plaster over them.
+
+"Come, Dora, this is needless peril," said Martin, drawing her within
+the room. "If you will not leave this, at least do not expose yourself
+unnecessarily."
+
+"But it is exactly to get away--to escape while there is time--that I
+came for," said the Captain. "They tell me that the mob are getting the
+best of it, and, worse again, that the troops are joining them; so,
+to make sure, I 've sent off Fenton to the post for horses, and I 'm
+expecting him every moment. But here he is. Well, have you got the
+horses?"
+
+"No, sir: the horses have all been taken by the people to mount
+orderlies; the postmaster, too, has fled, and everything is in
+confusion. But if we had horses the streets are impassable; from here to
+the Boulevard there are no less than five barricades."
+
+"Then what is to be done?" cried Martin.
+
+"They say, sir," replied Fenton, "that by gaining the outer Boulevard on
+foot, carriages and horses are easily found there, to reach Belleville,
+St. Germain, or Versailles."
+
+"He is right," said the Captain; "there is nothing else to be done. What
+do _you_ think?" said he, addressing Kate, who stood intently watching
+the movements in the Place beneath.
+
+"Yes; do you agree with this plan?" asked Martin, approaching her.
+
+"Look!" cried she, eagerly, and not heeding the question; "the troops
+are rapidly joining the people,--they come in numbers now,--and yonder
+is an officer in his uniform."
+
+"Shame on him!" exclaimed Lady Dorothea, indignantly.
+
+"So say I too," said Kate. "He who wears a livery should not assume the
+port and bearing of a free man. This struggle is for liberty, and should
+only be maintained by the free!"
+
+"How are we to pass these barricades?" cried Martin, anxiously.
+
+"I will be your guide, sir, if that be all," said Kate. "You may trust
+me. I promise no more than I can perform."
+
+"She speaks truly," said Lady Dorothea. "Alas that we should see the day
+when we cannot reject the aid!"
+
+"There is a matter I want to speak to you about," said Martin,
+drawing his father aside, and speaking in a low, confidential tone.
+"Massingbred--Jack Massingbred--is now here, in my room. I know all
+about my mother's dislike to him, and _he_ knows it; indeed, he has as
+much as owned to me that he deserved it all. But what is to be done? We
+cannot leave him here."
+
+"How came he to be here?" asked Martin.
+
+"He accompanied me from the Club, where, in an altercation of some sort,
+he had just involved himself in a serious quarrel. He came here to be
+ready to start this morning for Versailles, where the meeting was to
+take place; but indeed he had no thought of accepting shelter under
+our roof; and when he found where he was, it was with the greatest
+difficulty I could persuade him to enter. None of us anticipated such a
+serious turn of affairs as this; and now, of course, a meeting will be
+scarcely possible. What are we to do with him?"
+
+"Ask him frankly to join us if we obtain the horses."
+
+"But my mother?"
+
+"I 'll speak to her,--but it were better you did it, Harry. These are
+not times to weigh scruples and balance difficulties. I don't myself
+think that Massingbred treated us fairly, but it is not now I 'd like to
+remember it. There, go; tell her what you have told me, and all will be
+well."
+
+The Captain drew nigh Lady Dorothea, and, leaning over her chair,
+whispered to her for some minutes. At first, a slight gesture of
+impatience burst from her, but afterwards she seemed to hear him calmly
+and tranquilly.
+
+"It would seem as though the humiliations of this night are never to
+have an end," said she, with a sigh. "But I'll bear my share of them."
+
+"Remember," said the other, "that it was by no choice of _his_ he came
+here. His foot was on the threshold before he suspected it."
+
+"Miss Henderson sent me, my Lady," said a servant, entering hastily, "to
+say that there is not a minute to be lost. They are expecting an attack
+on the barricade in the Rue de la Paix, and we ought to pass through at
+once."
+
+"By whose orders?" began she, haughtily; then, checking herself
+suddenly, and in a voice weak and broken, added: "I am ready. Give me
+your arm, Harry, and do not leave me. Where is Mr. Martin?" asked she.
+
+"He is waiting for your Ladyship at the foot of the stairs with another
+gentleman," said the servant.
+
+"That must be Massingbred, for I told them to call him," said the
+Captain.
+
+When Lady Dorothea, supported by the arm of her son, had reached
+the gate, she found Martin and Massingbred standing to receive them,
+surrounded by a numerous escort of servants, each loaded with some
+portion of the family baggage.
+
+"A hasty summons, sir," said she, addressing Massingbred, and thus
+abruptly avoiding the awkwardness of a more ceremonious meeting. "A
+few hours back none of us anticipated anything like this. Will it end
+seriously, think you?"
+
+"There is every prospect of such, madam," said he, bowing respectfully
+to her salutation. "Every moment brings fresh tidings of defection among
+the troops, while the Marshal is paralyzed by contradictory orders."
+
+"Is it always to be the fate of monarchy to be badly served in times of
+peril?" said she, bitterly.
+
+"It is very difficult to awaken loyalty against one's convictions of
+right, madam. I mean," added he, as a gesture of impatience broke from
+her, "that these acts of the king, having no support from his real
+friends, are weak stimulants to evoke deeds of daring and courage."
+
+"They are unworthy supporters of a Crown who only defend what they
+approve of. This is but Democracy at best, and smacks of the policy
+which has little to lose and everything to gain by times of trouble."
+
+"And yet, madam, such cannot be the case here; at least, it is assuredly
+not so in the instance of him who is now speaking with Miss Henderson."
+And he pointed to a man who, holding the bridle of his horse on his arm,
+walked slowly at Kate's side in the street before the door.
+
+"And who is he?" asked she, eagerly.
+
+"The greatest banker in Paris, madam,--one of the richest capitalists of
+Europe,--ready to resign all his fortune in the struggle against a rule
+which he foresees intended to bring back the days of a worn-out, effete
+monarchy, rather than a system which shall invigorate the nation, and
+enrich it by the arts of commerce and trade."
+
+"But his name--who is he?" asked she, more impatiently.
+
+"Charles Lagrange, madam."
+
+"I have heard the name before. I have seen it somewhere lately," said
+she, trying to remember where and how.
+
+"You could scarcely have paid your respects at Neuilly, madam,
+without seeing him. He was, besides, the favored guest at Madame de
+Mirecourt's."
+
+"You would not imply, sir, that the Duchess condescended to any sympathy
+with this party?"
+
+"More than half the Court, madam, are against the Crown; I will not say,
+however, that they are, on that account, for the people."
+
+"There! she is making a sign to us to follow her," said Martin, pointing
+towards Kate, who, still conversing with her companion, motioned to the
+others to come up.
+
+"It is from that quarter we receive our orders," said Lady Dorothea,
+sneeringly, as she prepared to follow.
+
+"What has she to do with it?" exclaimed the Captain. "To look at her,
+one would say she was deep in the whole business."
+
+A second gesture, more urgent than before, now summoned the party to
+make haste.
+
+Through the Place, crowded as it was by an armed and excited multitude,
+way was rapidly made for the little party who now issued from the door
+of the hotel. Kate Henderson walked in front, with Massingbred at her
+side talking eagerly, and by his gestures seeming as though endeavoring
+to extenuate or explain away something in his conduct; next came Lady
+Dorothea, supported between her husband and her son, and while walking
+slowly and with faltering steps, still carrying her head proudly erect,
+and gazing on the stern faces around her with looks of haughty contempt.
+After them were a numerous retinue of servants, with such effects as
+they had got hurriedly together,--a terror-struck set, scarcely able to
+crawl along from fear.
+
+As they drew nigh the barricade, some men proceeded to remove a heavy
+wagon which adjoined a house, and by the speed and activity of their
+movements, urged on as they were by the orders of one in command, it
+might be seen that the operation demanded promptitude.
+
+"We are scarcely safe in this," cried the officer. "See! they are making
+signs to us from the windows,--the troops are coming. If you pass out
+now, you will be between two fires."
+
+"There is yet time," said Kate, eagerly. "Our presence in the street,
+too, will delay them, and give you some minutes to prepare. And as for
+ourselves, we shall gain one of the side-streets easily enough."
+
+"Tie your handkerchief to your cane, sir," said the officer to
+Massingbred.
+
+"My flag is ready," said Jack, gayly; "I only hope they may respect it."
+
+"Now--now!" cried Kate, with eagerness, and beckoning to Lady Dorothea
+to hasten, "the passage is free, and not a second to be lost!"
+
+"Are you not coming with us?" whispered Martin to her, as they passed
+out.
+
+"Yes; I'll follow. But," added she, in a lower tone, "were the choice
+given me, it is here I 'd take my stand."
+
+She looked full at Massingbred as she spoke, and, bending down his head,
+he said, "Had it been your place, it were mine also!"
+
+"Quick,--quick, my Lady," said Kate. "They must close up the passage at
+once. They are expecting an attack." And so saying, she motioned rapidly
+to Martin to move on.
+
+"The woman is a fiend," said Lady Dorothea; "see how her eyes sparkle,
+and mark the wild exultation of her features."
+
+"Adieu, sir,--adieu!" said Kate, waving her hand to one who seemed the
+chief of the party. "All my wishes are with you. Were I a man, my hand
+should guarantee my heart."
+
+"Come--come back!" cried the officer. "You are too late. There comes the
+head of the column."
+
+"No, never--never!" exclamed Lady Dorothea, haughtily; "protection from
+such as these is worse than any death."
+
+"Give me the flag, then," cried Kate, snatching it from Massingbred's
+hand, and hastening on before the others. And now the heavy wagon had
+fallen back to its place, and a serried file of muskets peeped over it.
+
+"Where's Massingbred?" asked the Captain, eagerly.
+
+"Yonder,--where he ought to be!" exclaimed Kate, proudly, pointing
+to the barricade, upon which, now, Jack was standing conspicuously, a
+musket on his arm.
+
+The troops in front were not the head of a column, but the advanced
+guard of a force evidently at some distance off, and instead of
+advancing on the barricade, they drew up and halted in triple file
+across the street. Their attitude of silent, stern defiance--for it was
+such--evoked a wild burst of popular fury, and epithets of abuse and
+insult were heaped upon them from windows and parapets.
+
+"They are the famous Twenty-Second of the Line," said the Captain, "who
+forced the Pont-Neuf yesterday and drove the mob before them."
+
+"It is fortunate for us that we fall into such hands," said Lady
+Dorothea, waving her handkerchief as she advanced. But Kate had already
+approached the line, and now halted at a command from the officer. While
+she endeavored to explain how and why they were there, the cries and
+menaces of the populace grew louder and wilder. The officer, a
+very young subaltern, seemed confused and flurried; his eyes turned
+constantly towards the street from which they had advanced, and he
+seemed anxiously expecting the arrival of the regiment.
+
+"I cannot give you a convoy, Mademoiselle," he said; "I. scarcely know
+if I have the right to let you pass. We may be attacked at any moment;
+for aught I can tell, _you_ may be in the interests of the insurgents--"
+
+"We are cut off, Lieutenant," cried a sergeant, running up at the
+moment. "They have thrown up a barrier behind us, and it is armed
+already."
+
+"Lay down your arms, then," said Kate, "and do not sacrifice your brave
+fellows in a hopeless straggle."
+
+"Listen not to her, young man, but give heed to your honor and your
+loyalty," cried Lady Dorothea. "Is it against such an enemy as this
+French soldiers fear to advance?"
+
+"Forward!" cried the officer, waving his sword above his head. "Let
+us carry the barricade!" And a wild yell of defiance from the windows
+repeated the speech in derision.
+
+"You are going to certain death!" cried Kate, throwing herself before
+him. "Let _me_ make terms for you, and they shall not bring dishonor on
+you."
+
+"Here comes the regiment!" called out the sergeant. "They have forced
+the barricade." And the quick tramp of a column, as they came at a run,
+now shook the street.
+
+"Remember your cause and your King, sir," cried Lady Dorothea to the
+officer.
+
+"Bethink you of your country,--of France,--and of Liberty!" said Kate,
+as she grasped his arm.
+
+"Stand back!--back to the houses!" said he, waving his sword.
+"Voltigeurs, to the front!"
+
+The command was scarcely issued, when a hail of balls rattled through
+the air. The defenders of the barricade had opened their fire, and with
+a deadly precision, too, for several fell at the very first discharge.
+
+"Back to the houses!" exclaimed Martin, dragging Lady Dorothea along,
+who, in her eagerness, now forgot all personal danger, and only thought
+of the contest before her.
+
+"Get under cover of the troops,--to the rear!" cried the Captain, as he
+endeavored to bear her away.
+
+"Back--back--beneath the archway!" cried Kate, as, throwing her arms
+around Lady Dorothea, she lifted her fairly from the ground, and carried
+her within the deep recess of a _porte coch�re_. Scarcely, however, had
+she deposited her in safety, than she fell tottering backwards and sank
+to the ground.
+
+"Good Heavens! she is struck," exclaimed Martin, bending over her.
+
+"It is nothing,--a spent shot, and no more," said Kate, as she showed
+the bullet which had perforated her dress beneath the arm.
+
+"A good soldier, by Jove!" said the Captain, gazing with real admiration
+on the beautiful features before him; the faint smile she wore
+heightening their loveliness, and contrasting happily with their pallor.
+
+"There they go! They are up the barricade already; they are over
+it,--through it!" cried the Captain. "Gallantly done!--gloriously done!
+No, by Jove! they are falling back; the fire is murderous. See how they
+bayonet them. The troops must win. They move together; they are like a
+wall! In vain, in vain; they cannot do it! They are beaten,--they are
+lost!"
+
+"Who are lost?" said Kate, in a half-fainting voice.
+
+"The soldiers. And there 's Massingbred on the top of the
+barricade, in the midst of it all. I see his hat They are driven
+back--beaten--beaten!"
+
+"Come in quickly," cried a voice from behind; and a small portion of the
+door was opened to admit them. "The soldiers are retiring, and will kill
+all before them."
+
+"Let _me_ aid you; it is _my_ turn now," said Lady Dorothea, assisting
+Kate to rise. "Good Heavens! her arm is broken,--it is smashed in two."
+And she caught the fainting girl in her arms.
+
+Gathering around, they bore her within the gate, and had but time to bar
+and bolt it when the hurried tramp without, and the wild yell of popular
+triumph, told that the soldiers were retreating, beaten and defeated.
+
+"And this to save me!" said Lady Dorothea, as she stooped over her. And
+the scalding tears dropped one by one on Kate's cheek.
+
+"Tear this handkerchief, and bind it around my arm," said Kate, calmly;
+"the pain is not very great, and there will be no bleeding, the doctors
+say, from a gun-shot wound."
+
+"I'll be the surgeon," said the Captain, addressing himself to the task
+with more of skill than might be expected. "I 've seen many a fellow
+struck down who did n't bear it as calmly," muttered he, as he bent over
+her. "Am I giving you any pain?"
+
+"Not in the least; and if I were in torture, that glorious cheer outside
+would rally me. Hear!--listen!--the soldiers are in full retreat; the
+people, the noble-hearted people, are the conquerors!"
+
+"Be calm, and think of yourself," said Lady Dorothea, mildly, to her;
+"such excitement may peril your very life."
+
+"And it is worth a thousand lives to taste of it," said she, while her
+cheek flushed, and her dark eyes gleamed with added lustre.
+
+"The street is clear now," said one of the servants to Martin, "and we
+might reach the Boulevard with ease."
+
+"Let us go, then," said Lady Dorothea. "Let us look to _her_ and think
+of nothing till she be cared for."
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IX. SOME CONFESSIONS OF JACK MASSINGBRED
+
+Upon two several occasions have we committed to Jack Massingbred the
+task of conducting this truthful history; for the third time do we now
+purpose to make his correspondence the link between the past and what is
+to follow. We are not quite sure that the course we thus adopt is free
+from its share of inconvenience, but we take it to avoid the evils of
+reiteration inseparable from following out the same events from merely
+different points of view. There is also another advantage to be gained.
+Jack is before our readers; we are not. Jack is an acquaintance; we
+cannot aspire to that honor. Jack's opinions, right or wrong as they may
+be, are part and parcel of a character already awaiting their verdict.
+What he thought and felt, hoped, feared, or wished, are the materials by
+which he is to be judged; and so we leave his cause in his own hands.
+
+His letter is addressed to the same correspondent to whom he wrote
+before. It is written, too, at different intervals, and in different
+moods of mind. Like the letters of many men who practise concealment
+with the world at large, it is remarkable for great frankness and
+sincerity. He throws away his mask with such evident signs of enjoyment
+that we only wonder if he can ever resume it; but crafty men like to
+relax into candor, as royalty is said to indulge with pleasure in the
+chance moments of pretended equality. It is, at all events, a novel
+sensation; and even that much, in this routine life of ours, is
+something!
+
+He writes from Spa, and after some replies to matters with which we have
+no concern, proceeds thus:--
+
+"Of the Revolution, then, and the Three Glorious Days as they are
+called, I can tell you next to nothing, and for this simple reason,
+that I was there fighting, shouting, throwing up barricades, singing the
+'Marseillaise,' smashing furniture, and shooting my 'Swiss,' like the
+rest. As to who beat the troops, forced the Tuileries, and drove Marmont
+back, you must consult the newspapers. Personal adventures I could give
+you to satiety, hairbreadth 'scapes and acts of heroism by the dozen;
+but these narratives are never new, and always tiresome. The serious
+reflectiveness sounds like humbug, and, if one treats them lightly,
+the flippancy is an offence. Jocular heroism is ever an insult to the
+reader.
+
+"You say, '_Que diable allait-il faire dans cette gal�re?_' and I
+answer, it was all _her_ doing. Yes, Harry, _she_ was there. I was
+thinking of nothing less in the world than a great 'blow for freedom,'
+as the 'Globe' has it. I had troubled my head wonderfully little about
+the whole affair. Any little interest I took was in the notion that if
+our 'natural enemies,' the French, were to fall to and kill each other,
+there would be so much the fewer left to fight against us; but as to who
+was to get the upper hand, or what they were to do when they had it,
+I gave myself no imaginable concern. I had a vague, shadowy kind of
+impression that the government was a bad one, but I had a much
+stronger conviction that the people deserved no better. My leanings--my
+instincts, if you prefer it--were with the Crown. The mob and its
+sentiments are always repulsive. Popular enthusiasm is a great ocean,
+but it is an ocean of dirty water, and you cannot come out clean from
+the contact; and so I should have wished well to royalty, but for an
+accident,--a mere trifle in its way, but one quite sufficient, even on
+historic grounds, to account for a man's change of opinions. The troops
+shot my cab-horse, sent a bullet through poor 'Beverley,' and seriously
+damaged a new hat which I wore at the time, accompanying these acts with
+expressions the reverse of compliment or civility. I was pitched out
+into the gutter, and, most appropriately you will say, I got up a
+Radical, a Democrat, a Fourierist,--anything, in short, that shouts
+'Down with Kings, and up with the Sovereign People!'
+
+"My principles--don't smile at the word--led me into a stupid
+altercation with a very pleasant acquaintance, and we parted to meet the
+next morning in hostility,--at least, such was our understanding; but by
+the time that our difference should have been settled, _I_ was carried
+away on a stretcher to the H�tel Dieu, wounded, and he was flung, a
+corpse, into the Seine. I intended to have been a most accurate narrator
+of events, journalizing for you, hour by hour, with all the stirring
+excitement of the present tense, but I cannot; the crash and the hubbub
+are still in my brain, and the infernal chaos of the streets is yet
+over me. Not to speak of my wound,--a very ugly sabre-cut in the
+neck,--severing I don't know what amount of nerves, arteries, and
+such-like 'small deer,' every one of which, however, has its own
+peculiar perils in the shape of aneurisms, tetanus, and so forth, in
+case I am not a miracle of patience, calmness, and composure.
+
+"The Martins are nursing and comforting and chicken-brothing me to my
+heart's content, and La Henderson, herself an invalid, with a terrible
+broken arm, comes and reads to me from time to time. What a girl it is!
+Wounded in a street encounter, she actually carried Lady Dorothea into
+a porte-coch�re, and when they had lost their heads in terror, could
+neither issue an order to the servants nor know what way to turn, she
+took the guidance of the whole party, obtained horses and carriages and
+an escort, escaped from Paris, and reached Versailles in the midst of
+flying courtiers and dismayed ministers, and actually was the very first
+to bring the tidings that the game of monarchy was up,--that the king
+had nothing left for it but an inglorious flight. To the Duchesse de
+Mire-court she made this communication, which it seems none of the
+court-followers had the courage or honesty to do before. The Duchess, in
+her terror, actually dragged her into the presence of the king, and made
+her repeat what she had said. The scene, as told me, was quite dramatic;
+the king took her hand to lead her to a seat, but it was unfortunately
+of the wounded arm, and she fainted. The sight of the wounded limb so
+affected the nerves of monarchy that he gave immediate orders to depart,
+and was off within an hour.
+
+"How they found me out a patient in a ward of the H�tel Dieu, rescued
+and carried me away with them, I have heard full half a dozen times, but
+I 'm far from being clear enough to repeat the story; and, indeed, when
+I try to recall the period, the only images which rise up before me
+are long ranges of white coverlids, pale faces, and groans and cries of
+suffering, with the dark curly head of a great master of torture
+peeping at me, and whom, I am told, is the Baron Dupuytren,
+the Surgeon-in-Chief. After these comes a vision of litters and
+_charrettes_,--sore joltings and stoppages to drink water--But I shall
+rave if I go on. Better I should tell you of my pleasant little bedroom
+here, opening on a small garden, with a tiny fountain trying to sprinkle
+the wild myrtle and blush-roses around it, and sportively sending its
+little plash over me, as the wind wafts it into my chamber. My luxurious
+chair and easy-cushioned sofa, and my table littered with everything,
+from flowers to French romances; not to speak of the small rustic seat
+beside the window, where she has been sitting the last hour, and has
+only quitted to give me time to write this to you. I know it--I see
+it--all you can say, all that you are saying at this moment, is fifty
+times more forcibly echoing within my own heart, and repeating in fitful
+sentences: 'A ruined man--a broken fortune--a mad attachment--a life of
+struggle, difficulty, and failure!' But why should it be failure? Such a
+girl for a wife ought in itself to be an earnest of success. Are not her
+qualities exactly those that do battle with the difficulties of fortune?
+Self-denial--ambition--courage--an intense, an intuitive knowledge of
+the world--and then, a purpose-like devotion to whatever she undertakes,
+that throws an air of heroism over all her actions.
+
+"Birth--blood--family connections--what have they done for me, except it
+be to entail upon me the necessity of selecting a career amidst the
+two or three that are supposed to suit the well-born? I may be a Life
+Guardsman, or an unpaid attach�, but I must not be a physician or a
+merchant. Nor is it alone that certain careers are closed against
+us, but certain opinions too. I must not think ill of the governing
+class,--I must never think well of the governed.
+
+"Well, Harry, the colonies are the remedy for all this. There, at least,
+a man can fashion existence as arbitrarily as he can the shape and
+size of his house. None shall dictate his etiquette, no more than his
+architecture; and I am well weary of the slavery of this old-world life,
+with our worship of old notions and old china, both because they are
+cracked, damaged, and useless. I 'll marry her. I have made up my mind
+on 't. Spare me all your remonstrances, all your mock compassion. Nor
+is it like a fellow who has not seen the world in its best gala suit,
+affecting to despise rank, splendor, and high station. _I have_ seen
+the thing. I have cantered my thoroughbred along Rotten Row, eaten my
+truffled dinners in Belgravia, whispered my nonsense over the white
+shoulders of the fairest and best-born of England's daughters. I know
+to a decimal fraction the value of all these; and, what 's more, I know
+what one pays for them,--the miserable vassalage, the poor slavery of
+mind, soul, and body they cost!
+
+"It is the terror of exclusion here, the dread of coldness there--the
+possibility of offence to 'his Grace' on this side, or misconception by
+'her Ladyship' on that--sway and rule a man so that he may neither eat,
+drink, nor sleep without a 'Court Guide' in his pocket. I 've done with
+it! now and forever,--I tell you frankly,--I return no more to this
+bondage.
+
+"I have written a farewell address to my worthy constituents of
+Oughterard. I have told them that, 'feeling an instinct of independence
+within me, I can no longer remain their representative; that, as a man
+of honor, I shrink from the jobbery of the little borough politicians,
+and, as a gentleman, I beg to decline their intimacy.' They took me for
+want of a better--I leave them for the same reason.
+
+"To my father I have said: 'Let us make a compromise. As your son I
+have a claim on the House. Now, what will you give for my share? I 'll
+neither importune you for place, nor embarrass you with solicitations
+for employment. Help me to stock my knapsack, and I 'll find my road
+myself.' _She_ knows nothing of these steps on my part; nor shall she,
+till they have become irrevocable. She is too proud ever to consent to
+what would cost me thus heavily; but the expense once incurred,--the
+outlay made,--she cannot object to what has become the law of my future
+life.
+
+"I send off these two documents to-night; this done, I shall write to
+her an offer of marriage. What a fever I 'm in! and all because I feel
+the necessity of defending myself to _you_,--to you of all men the most
+headstrong, reckless, and self-indulgent,--a fellow who never curbed a
+caprice nor restrained a passing fancy; and yet you are just the man
+to light your cigar, and while you puff away your blue cloud, mutter on
+about rashness, folly, insanity, and the rest of it, as if the state of
+your bank account should make that wisdom in _you_, which with _me_ is
+but mere madness! But I tell you, Harry, it is your very thousands per
+annum that preclude you from doing what I can. It is your house in town,
+your stud at Tattersall's, your yacht at Cowes, your grouse-lodge in the
+Highlands, that tie and fetter you to live like some scores of others,
+with whom you have n't one solitary sympathy, save in income! You are
+bound up in all the recognizances of your wealth to dine stupidly, sup
+languidly, and sink down at last into a marriage of convenience,--to
+make a wife of her whom 'her Grace' has chosen for you without a single
+speculation in the contract save the thought of the earl you will be
+allied to, and the four noble families you 'll have the right to go in
+mourning for.
+
+"And what worse than cant it is to talk of what they call an indiscreet
+match! What does--what can the world know as to the reasons that impel
+you, or me, or anybody else, to form a certain attachment? Are they
+acquainted with our secret and most hidden emotions? Do they understand
+the project of life we have planned to ourselves? Have they read our
+utter weariness and contempt for forms that _they_ venerate, and social
+distinctions that _they_ worship? I am aware that in some cases it
+requires courage to do this; and in doing it a man virtually throws down
+the glove to the whole world, and says, 'This woman's love is to me more
+than all of you'--and so say I at this moment. I must cry halt, I see,
+Harry. I have set these nerves at work in my wound, and the pain is
+agony. Tomorrow--to-night, if I 'm able--I shall continue.
+
+"Midnight." They have just wished me good-night, after having spent the
+evening here reading out the newspapers for me, commenting upon them,
+and exerting themselves to amuse me in a hundred good-natured ways. You
+would like this same stately old Lady Dorothea. She is really 'Grande
+Dame' in every respect,--dress, air, carriage, gesture, even her slow
+and measured speech is imposing, and her prejudices, uttered as they are
+in such perfect sincerity of heart, have something touching about them,
+and her sorrowful pity for the mob sounded more gracefully than Kate's
+enthusiastic estimate of their high deservings. It does go terribly
+against the grain to fancy an alliance between coarse natures and noble
+sentiments, and to believe in the native nobility of those who never
+touch soap! I have had a kind of skirmish with La Henderson upon this
+theme to-night. She was cross and out of temper, and bore my bantering
+badly. The fact is, she is utterly disgusted at the turn things have
+taken in France; and not altogether without reason, since, after all
+their bluster and bloodshed and barricades, they have gone back to a
+monarchy again. They barred out the master to make 'the head usher' top
+of the school. Let us see if he won't be as fond of the birch as his
+predecessor. Like all mutineers, they found they could n't steer the
+ship when they had murdered the captain! How hopeless it makes one of
+humanity to see such a spectacle as this, Harry, and how low is one's
+estimate of the species after such experience! You meet some half-dozen
+semi-bald, spectacled old gentlemen in society, somewhat more reserved
+than the rest of the company, fond of talking to each other, and rather
+distrustful of strangers; you find them slow conversers at dinner, sorry
+whist-players in the drawing-room; you are told, however, that one is a
+President of the Council, another the Secretary for Foreign Affairs,
+and a third something equally important. You venerate them
+accordingly, while you mutter the old Swede's apothegm about the 'small
+intelligences' that rule mankind. Wait awhile! There is a row in the
+streets: a pickpocket has appealed to the public to rescue him from the
+ignoble hands of the police; an escaped felon has fired at the judge who
+sentenced him, in the name of Liberty and Fraternity. No matter what
+the cause, there _is_ a row. The troops are called out; some
+are beaten, some join the insurgents. The government grows
+frightened--temporizes--offers terms--and sends for more soldiers.
+The people--I never clearly knew what the word meant--the people
+make extravagant demands, and will not even give time to have them
+granted,--in a word, the whole state is subverted, the king, if there
+be one, in flight, the royal family missing, the ministers nowhere! No
+great loss you 'll say, if the four or five smooth-faced imbecilities
+we have spoken of are not to the fore! But there is your error,
+Harry,--your great error. These men, used to conduct and carry on
+the government, cannot be replaced. The new capacities do nothing but
+blunder, and maybe issue contradictory orders and impede each other's
+actions. To improvise a Secretary of State is about as wise a proceeding
+as to take at hazard a third-class passenger and set him to guide the
+engine of a train. The only difference is that the machinery of state
+is ten thousand times more complex than that of a steam-engine, and the
+powers for mischief and misfortune in due proportion.
+
+"But why talk of these things? I have had enough and too much of them
+already this evening; women, too, are unpleasant disputants in politics.
+They attach their faith to persons, not parties. Miss Henderson is,
+besides, a little spoiled by the notice of those maxim-mongers who write
+leaders in the 'D�bats, and articles for the 'Deux Mondes.' They
+have, or affect to have, a kind of pitying estimate for our English
+constitutional forms, which is rather offensive. At least, she provoked
+me, and I am relapsing into bad temper, just by thinking of it.
+
+"You tell me that you once served with Captain Martin, and I see you
+understand him; not that it requires much study to do so. You say he was
+reckoned a good officer; what a sneer is that on the art military!
+
+"There are, however, many suitable qualities about him, and he certainly
+possesses the true and distinctive element of a gentleman,--he knows how
+to be idle. Ay, Harry, that is a privilege that your retired banker
+or enriched cotton-spinner never attains to. They must be up and
+doing,--where there is nothing to do. They carry the spirit of the
+counting-house and the loom into society with them, and having found
+a pleasure in business, they want to make a business of pleasure. Now,
+Martin understands idling to perfection. His tea and toast, his mutton
+cutlet, and his mustachios are abundant occupation for him. With
+luncheon about two o'clock, he saunters through the stables, sucking a
+lighted cigar, filing his nails, and admiring his boots, till it 's time
+to ride out. He comes to me about nine of an evening, and we play piquet
+till I get sleepy; after which he goes to 'the rooms,' and, I believe,
+plays high; at least, I suspect so; for he has, at times, the forced
+calm--that semi-jocular resignation--one sees in a heavy loser. He has
+been occasionally, too, probing me about Merl,--you remember the fellow
+who had the rooms near Knightsbridge,--so that I opine he has been
+dabbling in loans. What a sorry spectacle such a creature as this in the
+toils of the Israelite, for he is the 'softest of the soft.' I see it
+from the effect La Henderson has produced upon him. He is in love with
+her,--actually in love. He even wanted to make me his confidant--and I
+narrowly escaped the confession--only yesterday evening. Of course, he
+has no suspicion of my attachment in the same quarter, so that it would
+be downright treachery in me to listen to his avowal. Another feeling,
+too, sways me, Harry,--I don't think I could hear a man profess
+admiration for the woman that I mean to marry, without the self-same
+sense of resentment I should experience were I already her husband. I 'm
+certain I 'd shoot him for it.
+
+"La belle Kate and I parted coldly--dryly, I should call it--this
+evening. I had fancied she was above coquetry, but she is not. Is
+any woman? She certainly gave the Captain what the world would
+call encouragement all the night; listened attentively to tiresome
+tiger-huntings and stories of the new country; questioned him about his
+Mahratta campaigns, and even hinted at how much she would like an Indian
+life. Perhaps the torment she was inflicting on Lady Dorothea amused
+her; perhaps it was the irritation she witnessed in me gave the zest to
+this pastime. It is seldom that she condescends to be either amused or
+amusing; and I own it is a part does not suit her. She is a thousand
+times more attractive sitting over her embroidery-frame, raising
+her head at times to say a few words,--ever apposite and well
+chosen,--always simple, too, and to the purpose; or even by a slight
+gesture bearing agreement with what is said around her; till, with a
+sudden impulse, she pours forth fast, rapidly, and fluently some glowing
+sentiment of praise or censure, some glorious eulogy of the good, or
+some withering depreciation of the wrong. Then it is that you see
+how dark those eyes can be, how deep-toned that voice, and with what
+delicacy of expression she can mould and fashion every mood of mind, and
+give utterance to sentiments that till then none have ever known how to
+embody.
+
+"It is such a descent to her to play coquette! Cleopatra cannot--should
+not be an Abigail. I am low and depressed to-night; I scarcely know
+why: indeed, I have less reason than usual for heavy-heartedness. These
+people are singularly kind and attentive to me, and seem to have totally
+forgotten how ungratefully once before I repaid their civilities. What
+a stupid mistake do we commit in not separating our public life from our
+social one, so as to show that our opinions upon measures of state
+are disconnected with all the sentiments we maintain for our private
+friendships. I detect a hundred sympathies, inconceivable points of
+contact, between these people and myself. We pass hours praising the
+same things, and abusing the same people; and how could it possibly
+sever our relations that I would endow Maynooth when they would pull it
+down, or that I liked forty-shilling freeholders better than ten-pound
+householders? You 'll say that a certain earnestness accompanies strong
+convictions, and that when a man is deeply impressed with some supposed
+truths, he 'll not measure his reprobation of those who assail them.
+But a lawyer does all this, and forfeits nothing of the esteem of 'his
+learned brother on the opposite side.' Nay, they exchange very-ugly
+knocks at times, and inflict very unseemly marks even with the gloves
+on; still they go homeward, arm-in-arm, after, and laugh heartily at
+both plaintiff and defendant. By Jove! Harry, it may sound ill, but
+somehow it seems as though to secure even a moderate share of enjoyment
+in this life one must throne Expediency in the seat of Principle. I 'll
+add the conclusion to-morrow, and now say good-night.
+
+"Three days have passed over since I wrote the last time to you, and
+it would require as many weeks were I to chronicle all that has passed
+through my mind in the interval. Events there have been few; but
+sensations--emotions, enough for a lifetime. Nor dare I recall them!
+Faintly endeavoring to trace a few broken memories, my pains of mind and
+body come back again, so that you must bear with me if I be incoherent,
+almost unintelligible.
+
+"The day after I wrote to you, I never saw her. My Lady, who came as
+usual to visit me in the day, said something about Miss Henderson having
+a headache. Unpleasant letters from her family--obliged to give up
+the day to answering them; but all so confused and with such evident
+constraint as to show me that something disagreeable loomed in view.
+
+"The Captain dropped in about four o'clock, and as the weather was
+unfavorable, we sat down to our party of piquet. By a little address,
+I continued to lose nearly every game, and so gradually led him into a
+conversation while we played; but I soon saw that he only knew something
+had occurred 'upstairs,' but knew not what.
+
+"' I suspect, however,' added he, 'it is only the old question as to
+Kate's going away.' "'Going away! Going where?' cried I.
+
+"'Home to her father; she is resolutely bent upon it,--has been so ever
+since we left Paris. My mother, who evidently--but on what score I know
+not--had some serious difference with her, is now most eager to make
+concessions, and would stoop to--what for her is no trifle--even
+solicitation to induce her to stay, has utterly failed; so, too, has
+my father. Persuasion and entreaty not succeeding, I suspect--but it is
+only suspicion--that they have had recourse to parental authority,
+and asked old Henderson to interfere. At least, a letter has come this
+morning from the West of Ireland, for Kate, which I surmise to be in his
+hand. She gave it, immediately on reading it, to my mother, and I could
+detect in her Ladyship's face, while she perused it, unmistakable
+signs of satisfaction. When she handed it back, too, she gave a certain
+condescending smile, which, in my mother, implies victory, and seems
+to say, "Let us be friends now,--I 'm going to signal--cease firing."'
+
+"'And Kate, did she make any remark--say anything?' "'Not a syllable.
+She folded up the document, carefully and steadily, and placed it in
+her work-box, and then resumed her embroidery in silence. I watched her
+narrowly, while I affected to read the paper, and saw that she had to
+rip out half she had done. After a while my mother said,--"'"You 'll not
+answer that letter to-day, probably?"
+
+"'"I mean to do so, my Lady," said she; "and, with your permission, will
+beg you to read my reply."
+
+"'"Very well," said my mother, and left the room. I was standing outside
+on the balcony at the time, so that Kate believed, after my mother's
+departure, she was quite alone. It was then she opened the letter, and
+re-read it carefully. I never took my eyes off her; and yet what was
+passing in her mind, whether joy, grief, disappointment, or pleasure,
+I defy any man to declare; nor when, having laid it down once more, she
+took up her work, not a line or a lineament betrayed her. It was plain
+enough the letter was no pleasant one, and I expected to have heard her
+sigh perhaps, or at least show some sign of depression; but no, she
+went on calmly, and at last began to sing, in a low, faint voice, barely
+audible where I stood, one of her little barcarole songs she is so fond
+of; and if there was no sorrow in her own heart, by Jove! she made mine
+throb heavily as I listened! I stood it as long as I was able, and then
+coughed to show that I was there, and entered the room. She never lifted
+her head, or noticed me, not even when I drew a chair close to her, and
+sat down at her side.
+
+"'I suppose, Massingbred,' said he, after a pause, 'you 'll laugh at
+me, if I tell you I was in love with the Governess! Well, I should have
+laughed too, some six months ago, if any man had prophesied it; but
+the way I put the matter to myself is this: If I do succeed to a
+good estate, I have a right to indulge my own fancy in a wife; if I
+don't,--that is, if I be a ruined man,--where 's the harm in marrying
+beneath me?'
+
+"'Quite right, admirably argued,' said I, impatiently; 'go on.'
+
+"'I 'm glad you agree with me,' said he, with the stupid satisfaction of
+imbecility. 'I thought I had reduced the question to its very narrowest
+bounds.'
+
+"'So you have; go on,' cried I.
+
+"'"Miss Henderson," said I,--for I determined to show that I was
+speaking seriously, and so I did n't call her Kate,-- "Miss Henderson, I
+want to speak to you. I have been long seeking this opportunity; and if
+you will vouchsafe me a few minutes now, and hear me, on a subject upon
+which all my happiness in life depends--"
+
+"'When I got that far, she put her work down on her knee, and stared at
+me with those large, full eyes of hers so steadily--ay, so haughtily,
+too--that I half wished myself fifty miles away.
+
+"'"Captain Martin," said she, in a low, distinct voice, "has it ever
+occurred to you in life to have, by a mere moment of reflection, a
+sudden flash of intelligence, saved yourself from some step, some act,
+which, if accomplished, had brought nothing but outrage to your feeling,
+and insult to your self-esteem? Let such now rescue you from resuming
+this theme."
+
+"'"But you# don't understand me," said I. "What I wish to say--" Just at
+that instant my father came into the room in search of her, and I made
+my escape to hide the confusion that I felt ready to overwhelm me.'
+
+"'And have you not seen her since?'
+
+"'No. Indeed, I think it quite as well, too. She 'll have time to think
+over what I said, and see what a deuced good offer it is; for though I
+know she was going to make objections about inequality of station and
+all that at the time, reflection will bring better thoughts.'
+
+"'And she 'll consent, you think?'
+
+"'I wish I had a bet on it,' said he.
+
+"'So you shall, then,' said I, endeavoring to seem thoroughly at my
+ease. 'It's a very unworthy occasion for a wager, Martin; but I'll lay
+five hundred to one she refuses you.'
+
+"'Taken, and booked,' cried he, writing it down in his note-book. "I
+only regret it is not in thousands.'
+
+"'So it should be, if I could honestly stake what I have n't got.'
+
+"'You are so sanguine of winning? '
+
+"' So certain, you ought to say.'
+
+"' Of course you use no influence against me,--you take no step of any
+kind to affect her decision.'
+
+"'Certainly not.'
+
+"'Nor are you--But,' added he, laughing, 'I need n't make that proviso.
+I was going to say, you are not to ask her yourself.'
+
+"'I 'll even promise you that, if you like,' said I.
+
+"'Then what can you mean?' said he, with a puzzled look. 'But whatever
+it be, I can stand the loss. I 've won very close to double as much from
+you this evening.'
+
+"'And as to the disappointment?'
+
+"'Oh, _you_ 'll not mention it, I 'm certain, neither will she, so none
+will be the wiser; and, after all, the real bore in all these cases is
+the gossip.' And with this consolatory reflection he left me to dress
+for dinner. How well bred a fellow seems who has no feeling, but just
+tact enough to detect the tone of the world and follow it! That's
+Martin's case, and his manners are perfect! After he was gone, I
+was miserable for not having quarrelled with him,--said something
+outrageous, insolent, and unbearable. That he should have dared to
+insult the young girl by such presumption as the offer of _his_ hand
+is really too much. What difference of station--wide as the poles
+asunder--could compare with their real inequality? The fop, the idler,
+the incompetent, to aspire to _her!_ Even his very narrative proclaimed
+his mean nature, wandering on, as it did, from a lounge on the balcony
+to an offer of marriage!
+
+"Now, to conclude this wearisome story--and I fancy, Harry, that already
+you half deem me a fitting rival for the tiresome Captain,--but to
+finish, Martin came early into my room, and laying a bank-note for �100
+on the bed, merely added, 'You were right; there's your money.' I'd have
+given double the sum to hear the details of this affair,--in what terms
+the refusal was conveyed,--on what grounds she based it; but he would
+not afford me the slightest satisfaction on any of these points. Indeed,
+he displayed more vigor of character than I suspected in him, in the way
+he arrested my inquiries. He left this for Paris immediately after, so
+that the mystery of that interview will doubtless remain impenetrable to
+me.
+
+"We are all at sixes and sevens to-day. Old Martin, shocked by some
+tidings of Ireland that he chanced upon in the public papers, I believe,
+has had a stroke of paralysis, or a seizure resembling that malady.
+Lady Dorothea is quite helpless from terror, and but for Kate, the whole
+household would be in utter chaos and disorganization; but she goes
+about, with her arm in a sling, calm and tranquil, but with the energy
+and activity of one who feels that all depends upon her guidance and
+direction. The servants obey her with a promptitude that proclaims
+instinct; and even the doctor lays aside the mysterious jargon of
+his craft, and condescends to talk sense to her. I have not seen her;
+passing rumors only reach me in my solitude, and I sit here writing and
+brooding alternately.
+
+"P. S. Martin is a little better; no immediate danger to life, but
+slight hopes of ultimate recovery. I was wrong as to the cause. It was a
+proclamation of outlawry against his son, the Captain, which he read in
+the 'Times.' Some implacable creditor or other had pushed his claim so
+far, as I believe is easy enough to do nowadays; and poor Martin, who
+connected this stigma with all the disgrace that once accompanied such a
+sentence, fell senseless to the ground, and was taken up palsied. He is
+perfectly collected and even tranquil now, and they wheeled me in to sit
+with him for an hour or so. Lady Dorothea behaves admirably; the first
+shock overwhelmed her, but that passed off, and she is now all that
+could be imagined of tenderness and zeal.
+
+"Kate I saw but for a second. She asked me to write to Captain Martin,
+and request him to hasten home. It was no time to trifle with her; so I
+simply promised to do so, adding,--"'_You,_ I trust, will not leave this
+at such a moment?'
+
+"'Assuredly not,' said she, slightly coloring at what implied my
+knowledge of her plans.
+
+"'Then all will go on well in that case,' said I.
+
+"'I never knew that I was reckoned what people call lucky,' said she,
+smiling. 'Indeed, most of those with whom I have been associated in life
+might say the opposite.' And then, without waiting to hear me, she left
+the room.
+
+"My brain is throbbing and my cheeks burning; some feverish access is
+upon me. So I send off this ere I grow worse.
+
+"Your faithful friend,
+
+"Jack Massingbred."
+
+
+
+CHAPTER X. HOW ROGUES AGREE!
+
+Leaving the Martins in their quiet retreat at Spa, nor dwelling any
+longer on a life whose daily monotony was unbroken by an incident,
+we once more turn our glance westward. Were we assured that our kind
+readers' sympathies were with us, the change would be a pleasure to us,
+since it is there, in that wild mountain tract, that pathless region of
+fern and wild furze, that we love to linger, rambling half listlessly
+through silent glens and shady gorges, or sitting pensively on the
+storm-lashed shore, till sea and sky melt into one, and naught lowers
+through the gloom save the tall crags above us.
+
+We are once more back again at the little watering-place of Kilkieran,
+to which we introduced our readers in an early chapter of this
+narrative; but another change has come over that humble locality.
+The Osprey's Nest, the ornamented villa, on which her Ladyship had
+squandered so lavishly good money and bad taste, was now an inn! A
+vulgar sign-board, representing a small boat in a heavy sea, hung over
+the door, with the words "The Corragh" written underneath. The spacious
+saloon, whose bay-windows opened on the Atlantic, was now a coffee-room,
+and the small boudoir that adjoined it--desecration of desecrations--the
+bar!
+
+It needs not to have been the friend or favored guest beneath a roof
+where elegance and refinement have prevailed to feel the shock at
+seeing them replaced by all that ministers to coarse pleasure and
+vulgar association. The merest stranger cannot but experience a sense of
+disgust at the contrast. Whichever way you turned, some object met the
+eye recalling past splendor and present degradation; indeed, Toby Shea,
+the landlord, seemed to feel as one of his brightest prerogatives the
+right of insulting the memory of his predecessors, and throwing into
+stronger antithesis the "former" and the "now."
+
+"Here ye are now, sir, in my Lady's own parlor; and that's her bedroom,
+where I left your trunk," said he, as he ushered in a newly arrived
+traveller, whose wet and road-stained drapery bore traces of an Irish
+winter's day. "Mr. Scanlan told me that your honor would be here at four
+o'clock, and he ordered dinner for two, at five, and a good dinner you
+'ll have."
+
+"There; let them open my traps, and fetch me a pair of slippers and a
+dressing-gown," broke in the traveller; "and be sure to have a good fire
+in my bedroom. What an infernal climate! It has rained since the day
+I landed at Dublin; and now that I have come down here, it has blown a
+hurricane besides. And how cold this room is!" added he, shuddering.
+
+"That's all by reason of them windows," said Toby,--"French windows they
+call them; but I'll get real Irish sashes put up next season, if I live.
+It was a fancy of that ould woman that built the place to have nothing
+that was n't foreign."
+
+"They are not popular, then,--the Martins?" asked the stranger.
+
+"Popular!" echoed Toby. "Begorra, they are not. Why would they be? Is it
+rack-renting, process sarving, extirminating, would make them popular?
+Sure we're all ruined on the estate. There isn't a mother's son of
+us might n't be in jail; and it's not Maurice's fault, either,--Mr.
+Scanlan's, I mean. Your honor's a friend of his, I believe," added he,
+stealthily. The stranger gave a short nod. "Sure he only does what he's
+ordered; and it's breaking his heart it is to do them cruel things they
+force him to."
+
+"Was the management of the estate better when they lived at home?" asked
+the stranger.
+
+"Some say yes, more says no. I never was their tenant myself, for I
+lived in Oughterard, and kept the 'Goose and Griddle' in John Street;
+but I believe, if the truth was told, it was always pretty much the
+same. They were azy and moderate when they did n't want money, but ready
+to take your skin off your back when they were hard up."
+
+"And is that their present condition?"
+
+"I think it is," said he, with a confident grin. "They 're spending
+thousands for hundreds since they went abroad; and that chap in the
+dragoons--the Captain they call him--sells a farm, or a plot of ground,
+just the way ye 'd tear a leaf out of a book. There 's Mr. Maurice
+now,--and I 'll go and hurry the dinner, for he 'll give us no peace if
+we 're a minute late."
+
+The stranger--or, to give him his proper name, Mr. Merl--now approached
+the window, and watched, not without admiration, the skilful management
+by which Scanlan skimmed along the strand, zigzagging his smart nag
+through all the awkward impediments of the way, and wending his tandem
+through what appeared a labyrinth of confusion.
+
+Men bred and born in great cities are somewhat prone to fancy that
+certain accomplishments, such as tandem-driving, steeple-chasing, and
+such like, are the exclusive acquirements of rank and station. They have
+only witnessed them as the gifts of guardsmen and "young squires of high
+degree," never suspecting that in the country a very inferior class
+is often endowed with these skilful arts. Mr. Merl felt, therefore, no
+ordinary reverence for Maurice Scanlan, a sentiment fully reciprocated
+by the attorney, as he beheld the gorgeous dressing-gown, rich tasselled
+cap, and Turkish trousers of the other.
+
+"I thought I'd arrive before you, sir," said Scanlan, with a profound
+bow, as he entered the room; "but I'm glad you got in first. What a
+shower that was!"
+
+"Shower!" said Merl; "a West India hurricane is a zephyr to it. I 'd not
+live in this climate if you 'd give me the whole Martin estate!"
+
+"I 'm sure of it, sir; one must be bred in the place, and know no
+better, to stand it." And although the speech was uttered in all
+humility, Merl gave the speaker a searching glance, as though to say,
+"Don't lose your time trying to humbug me; I'm 'York,' too." Indeed,
+there was species of freemasonry in the looks that now passed between
+the two; each seemed instinctively to feel that he was in the presence
+of an equal, and that artifice and deceit might be laid aside for the
+nonce.
+
+"I hope you agree with me," said Scanlan, in a lower and more
+confidential voice, "that this was the best place to come to. Here you
+can stay as long as you like, and nobody the wiser; but in the town
+of Oughterard they'd be at you morning, noon, and night, tracking your
+steps, questioning the waiter, ay, and maybe taking a peep at your
+letters. I 've known that same before now."
+
+"Well, I suppose you 're right; only this place does look a little dull,
+I confess."
+
+"It's not the season, to be sure," said Scanlan, apologetically.
+
+"Oh! and there is a season here?"
+
+"Isn't there, by George!" said Maurice, smacking his lips. "I 've seen
+two heifers killed here of a morning, and not so much as a beefsteak
+to be got before twelve o'clock. 'T is the height of fashion comes down
+here in July,--the Rams of Kiltimmon, and the Bodkins of Crossmaglin;
+and there was talk last year of a lord,--I forget his name; but he ran
+away from Newmarket, and the story went that he was making for this."
+
+"Any play?" asked Merl.
+
+"Play is it? That there is; whist every night, and backgammon."
+
+Merl threw up his eyebrows with pretty much the same feeling with which
+the Great Napoleon repeated the words "Bows and Arrows!" as the weapons
+of a force that offered him alliance.
+
+"If you'd allow me to dine in this trim, Mr. Scanlan," said he, "I'd ask
+you to order dinner."
+
+"I was only waiting for you to give the word, sir," said Maurice,
+reverting to the habit of respect at any fresh display of the other's
+pretensions; and opening the door, he gave a shrill whistle.
+
+The landlord himself answered the summons, and whispered a few words in
+Scanlan's ear.
+
+"That's it, always," cried Maurice, angrily. "I never came into the
+house for the last ten days without hearing the same story. I 'd like to
+know who and what he is, that must always have the best that 's going?"
+Then turning to Merl, he added: "It's a lodger he has upstairs; an old
+fellow that came about a fortnight back; and if there's a fine fish or a
+fat turkey or a good saddle of mutton to be got, he 'll have it."
+
+"Faix, he pays well," said Toby, "whoever he is."
+
+"And he has secured our salmon, I find, and left us to dine on whiting,"
+said Maurice.
+
+"An eighteen-pound fish!" echoed Toby; "and it would be as much as my
+life is worth to cut it in two."
+
+"And he's alone, too?"
+
+"No, sir. Mr. Crow, the painter, is to dine with him. He's making
+drawings for him of all the wonderful places down the coast."
+
+"Well, give us what we 're to have at once," said Maurice, angrily. "The
+basket of wine was taken out of the gig?"
+
+"Yes, sir; all right and ready for you; and barrin' the fish you 'll
+have an elegant dinner."
+
+This little annoyance over, the guests relished their fare like hungry
+men; nor, time and place considered, was it to be despised.
+
+"Digestion is a great leveller." Mr. Merl and Mr. Scan-Ian felt far more
+on an equality when, the dinner over and the door closed, they drew
+the table close to the fire, and drank to each other in a glass of racy
+port.
+
+"Well, I believe a man might live here, after all," said Merl, as he
+gazed admiringly on the bright hues of his variegated lower garments.
+
+"I 'm proud to hear you say so," said Scanlan; "for, of course, you've
+seen a deal of life; and when I say life, I mean fashion and high
+style,--nobs and swells."
+
+"Yes; I believe I have," said Merl, lighting his cigar; "that was always
+my 'line.' I fancy there's few fellows going have more experience of the
+really great world than Herman Merl."
+
+"And you like it?" asked Maurice, confidentially.
+
+"I do, and I do not," said the Jew, hesitatingly. "To one like myself,
+who knows them all, always on terms of close intimacy,--friendship, I
+may say,--it 's all very well; but take a new hand just launched into
+life, a fellow not of their own set,--why, sir, there 's no name for the
+insults and outrage he'll meet with."
+
+"But what could they do?" asked Scanlan, inquiringly.
+
+"What?--anything, everything; laugh at him, live on him, win his last
+guinea,--and then, blackball him!"
+
+"And could n't he get a crack at them?"
+
+"A what?"
+
+"Couldn't he have a shot at some of them, at least?" asked Maurice.
+
+"No, no," said Mr. Merl, half contemptuously; "they don't do _that_."
+
+"Faix! and we 'd do it down here," said Scanlan, "devil may care who or
+what he was that tried the game."
+
+"But I 'm speaking of London and Paris; I 'm not alluding to the
+Sandwich Islands," said Merl, on whose brain the port and the strong
+fire were already producing their effects.
+
+Scanlan's face flushed angrily; but a glance at the other checked the
+reply he was about to make, and he merely pushed the decanter across the
+table.
+
+"You see, sir," said Merl, in the tone of a man laying down a great
+dictum, "there 's worlds and worlds. There's Claude Willoughby's world,
+which is young Martin's and Stanhope's and mine. There, we are all young
+fellows of fortune, good family, good prospects, you understand,--no,
+thank you, no more wine;--I feel that what I 've taken has got into my
+head; and this cigar, too, is none of the best. Would it be taking too
+great a liberty with you if I were to snatch a ten minutes' doze,--just
+ten minutes?"
+
+"Treat me like an old friend; make yourself quite at home," said
+Maurice. "There 's enough here"--and he pointed to the bottles on the
+table--"to keep me company; and I 'll wake you up when I 've finished
+them."
+
+Mr. Merl made no reply; but drawing a chair for his legs, and disposing
+his drapery gracefully around him, he closed his eyes, and before
+Maurice had replenished his glass, gave audible evidence of a sound
+sleep.
+
+Now, worthy reader, we practise no deceptions with you; nor so far as
+we are able, do we allow others to do so. It is but fair, therefore, to
+tell you that Mr. Merl was not asleep, nor had he any tendency whatever
+to slumber about him. That astute gentleman, however, had detected that
+the port was, with the addition of a great fire, too much for him; he
+recognized in himself certain indications of confusion that implied
+wandering and uncertain faculties, and he resolved to arrest the
+progress of such symptoms by a little repose. He felt, in short, that if
+he had been engaged in play, that he should have at once "cut out," and
+so he resolved to give himself the advantage of the prerogative
+which attaches to a tired traveller. There he lay, then, with closed
+eyes,--breathing heavily,--to all appearance sound asleep.
+
+Maurice Scanlan, meanwhile, scanned the recumbent figure before him with
+the eye of a connoisseur. We have once before said that Mr. Scanlan's
+jockey experiences had marvellously aided his worldly craft, and that
+he scrutinized those with whom he came in contact through life, with all
+the shrewd acumen he would have bestowed upon a horse whose purchase he
+meditated. It was easy to see that the investigation puzzled him. Mr.
+Merl did not belong to any one category he had ever seen before. Maurice
+was acquainted with various ranks and conditions of men; but here was a
+new order, not referable to any known class. He opened Captain Martin's
+letter, which he carried in his pocket-book, and re-read it; but it
+was vague and uninstructive. He merely requested that "every attention
+might be paid to his friend Mr. Merl, who wanted to see something of
+the West, and know all about the condition of the people, and such like.
+He's up to everything, Master Maurice," continued the writer, "and
+so just the man for _you_." There was little to be gleaned from this
+source, and so he felt, as he folded and replaced the epistle in his
+pocket.
+
+"What can he be," thought Scanlan, "and what brings him down here? Is he
+a member of Parliament, that wants to make himself up about Ireland and
+Irish grievances? Is he a money-lender, that wants to see the security
+before he makes a loan? Are they thinking of him for the agency?"--and
+Maurice flushed as the suspicion crossed him,--"or is it after Miss Mary
+he is?" And a sudden paleness covered his face at the thought. "I 'd
+give a cool hundred, this minute, if I could read you," said he to
+himself, "Ay, and I'd not ask any one's help how to deal with us
+afterwards," added he, as he drained off his glass. While he was thus
+ruminating, a gentle tap was heard at the door, and, anxious not to
+disturb the sleeper, Scanlan crossed the room with noiseless steps, and
+opened it.
+
+[Illustration: 124]
+
+"Oh, it's you, Simmy," said he, in a low voice. "Come in, and make no
+noise; he's asleep."
+
+"And that's him!" said Crow, standing still to gaze on the recumbent
+figure before him, which he scrutinized with all an artist's
+appreciation.
+
+"Ay, and what do you think of him?" whispered Scanlan.
+
+"That chap is a Jew," said Sim, in the same cautious tone. "I know
+the features well; you see the very image of him in the old Venetian
+pictures. Whenever they wanted cunning and cruelty--but more cunning
+than cruelty--they always took that type."
+
+"I would n't wonder if you were right, Simmy," said Scanlan, on whom a
+new light was breaking.
+
+"I know I am; look at the spread of the nostrils, and the thick, full
+lips, and the coarse, projecting under-jaw. Faix!" said he to himself,
+"I 've seen the day I 'd like to have had a study of your face."
+
+"Indeed!" said Scanlan.
+
+"Just so; he'd make a great Judas!" said Crow, enthusiastically. "It
+is the miser all over. You know," added he, "if one took him in the
+historical way, you 'd get rid of the vulgarity, and make him grander
+and finer; for, looking at him now, he might be a dog-stealer."
+
+Scanlan gave a low, cautious laugh as he placed a chair beside his own
+for the artist, and filled out for him a bumper of port.
+
+"I was just dying for a glass of this," said Crow. "I dined with Mr.
+Barry upstairs; and though he's a fine-hearted old fellow in many
+respects, he's too abstemious; a pint of sherry for two at dinner, and a
+pint of port after, that's the allowance. Throw out as many hints as you
+like, suggest how and what you will, but devil a drop more you'll get."
+
+"And who is he?" asked Scanlan.
+
+"I wish you could tell me," said Crow.
+
+"You haven't a notion; nor what he is?"
+
+"Not the slightest. I think, indeed, he said he was in the army; but
+I'm not clear it wasn't a commissary or a surgeon; maybe he was, but
+he knows a little about everything. Take him on naval matters, and he
+understands them well; ask him about foreign countries,--egad, he was
+everywhere. Ireland seems the only place new to him, and it won't be
+so long; for he goes among the people, and talks to them, and hears
+all they have to say, with a patience that breaks my heart. Like all
+strangers, he's astonished with the acuteness he meets with, and never
+ceases saying, 'Ain't they a wonderful people? Who ever saw their equal
+for intelligence?'"
+
+"Bother!" said Scanlan, contemptuously.
+
+"But it is not bother! Maurice; he's right. They are just what he says."
+
+"Arrah! don't be humbugging _me_, Mr. Crow," said the other. "They 're
+a set of scheming, plotting vagabonds, that are unmanageable by any one,
+except a fellow that has the key to them as I have."
+
+"_You_ know them, that's true," said Crow, half apologetically, for he
+liked the port, and did not feel he ought to push contradiction too far.
+
+"And that's more than your friend Barry does, or ever will," said
+Scanlan. "I defy an Englishman--I don't care how shrewd he is--to
+understand Paddy."
+
+A slight movement on Mr. Merl's part here admonished the speaker to
+speak lower.
+
+"Ay," continued Maurice, "that fellow there--whoever he is or whatever
+he is--is no fool! he 's deep enough; and yet there 's not a bare-legged
+gossoon on the estate I won't back to take him in."
+
+"But Barry's another kind of man entirely. You wouldn't call him cute or
+cunning; but he's a sensible, well-judging man, that has seen a deal of
+life."
+
+"And what is it, he says, brings him here?" asked Scanlan.
+
+"He never said a word about that yet," replied Crow, "further than his
+desire to visit a country he had heard much of, and, if I understand him
+aright, where some of his ancestors came from; for, you see, at times
+he's not so easy for one to follow, for he has a kind of a foreign twang
+in his tongue, and often mumbles to himself in a strange language."
+
+"I mistrust all these fellows that go about the world, pretending they
+want to see this and observe that," said Scanlan, sententiously.
+
+"It's mighty hard to mistrust a man that gives you the likes of that,"
+said Crow, as he drew a neatly folded banknote from his pocket, and
+handed it to Scanlan. "Twenty pounds! And he gave you that?" "This very
+evening. 'It is a little more than our bargain, Mr. Crow,' said he, 'but
+not more than I can afford to give; and so I hope you 'll not refuse
+it.' These were his words, as he took my lot of drawings--poor daubs
+they were--and placed them in his portfolio."
+
+"So that he is rich?" said Maurice, pensively, "There seems no end of
+his money; there's not a day goes over he does n't spend fifteen or
+sixteen pounds in meat, potatoes, barley, and the like. Sure, you may
+say he 's been feeding the two islands himself for the last fortnight;
+and what's more, one must n't as much as allude to it. He gets angry at
+the slightest word that can bring the subject forward. It was the other
+day he said to myself, 'If you can relieve destitution without too much
+parade of its sufferings, you are not only obviating the vulgar display
+of rich benevolence, but you are inculcating high sentiments and
+delicacy of feeling in those that are relieved. Take care how you
+pauperize the heart of a people, for you 'll have to make a workhouse of
+the nation.'"
+
+"Sure, they're paupers already!" exclaimed Scanlan, contemptuously.
+"When I hear all these elegant sentiments uttered about Ireland, I know
+a man is an ass! This is a poor country,--the people is poor, the gentry
+is poor, the climate is n't the best, and bad as it is, you 're never
+sure of it. All that anybody can hope to do is to make his living out
+of it; but as to improving it,--raising the intellectual standard of the
+people, and all that balderdash we hear of,--you might just as well tell
+me that there was an Act of Parliament to make everybody in Connaught
+six feet high. Nature says one thing, and it signifies mighty little if
+the House of Commons says the other."
+
+"And you 're telling me this in the very spot that contradicts every
+word you say!" cried Crow, half angrily; for the port had given him
+courage, and the decanter waxed low.
+
+"How so?" exclaimed Scanlan.
+
+"Here, where we sit--on this very estate of Cro' Martin--where a young
+girl--a child the other day--has done more to raise the condition of
+the people, to educate and civilize, than the last six generations
+together."
+
+A long wailing whistle from Scanlan was the insulting reply to the
+assertion.
+
+"What do you mean by that?" cried Crow, passionately.
+
+"I mean that she has done more mischief to the property than
+five-and-forty years' good management will ever repair, Now don't be
+angry, Simmy; keep your temper, and draw your chair back again to the
+table. I 'm not going to say one word against her intentions; but when
+I see the waste of thousands of pounds on useless improvements, elegant
+roads that lead nowhere, bridges that nobody will ever pass, and harbors
+without boats, not to say the habits of dependence the people have got
+by finding everything done for them. I tell you again, ten years more of
+Miss Mary's rule will finish the estate."
+
+[Illustration: 130]
+
+"I don't believe a word of it!" blurted out Simmy, boldly. "I saw her
+yesterday coming out of a cabin, where she passed above an hour, nursing
+typhus fever and cholera. The cloak she took off the door--for she left
+it there to dry--was still soaked with rain; her wet hair hung down her
+shoulders, and as she stood bridling her own pony,--for there was not a
+living soul to help her--"
+
+"She 'd have made an elegant picture," broke in Scanlan, with a laugh.
+"But that's exactly the fault of us in Ireland,--we are all picturesque;
+I wish we were prosperous! But come, Simmy, finish your wine; it's not
+worth disputing about. If all I hear about matters be true, there will
+be very little left of Cro' Martin when the debts are paid."
+
+"What! do you mean to say that they 're in difficulty?"
+
+"Far worse; the stories that reach me call it--ruin!"
+
+Simmy drew his chair closer to the table, and in a whisper scarcely
+breathed, said, "That chap's not asleep, Maurice."
+
+"I know it," whispered the other; and added, aloud, "Many a fellow that
+thinks he has the first charge on the property will soon discover his
+mistake; there are mortgages of more than eighty years' standing on the
+estate. You've had a great sleep, sir," said he, addressing Merl, who
+now yawned and opened his eyes; "I hope our talking did n't disturb
+you?"
+
+"Not in the least," said Merl, rising and stretching his legs. "I'm all
+right now, and quite fresh for anything."
+
+"Let me introduce Mr. Crow to you, sir,--a native artist that we 're all
+proud of."
+
+"That's exactly what you are not then," said Crow; "nor would you be if
+I deserved it. You 'd rather gain a cause at the Quarter Sessions, or
+take in a friend about a horse, than be the man that painted the Madonna
+at Florence."
+
+"He's cross this evening,--cross and ill-humored," said Scanlan,
+laughing. "Maybe he 'll be better tempered when we have tea."
+
+"I was just going to ask for it," said Merl, as he arranged his
+whiskers, and performed a small impromptu toilet before the glass, while
+Simmy issued forth to give the necessary orders.
+
+"We 'll have tea, and a rubber of dummy afterwards," said Scanlan, "if
+you've no objection."
+
+"Whatever you like,--I 'm quite at your disposal," replied Merl, who now
+seated himself with an air of bland amiability, ready, according to the
+amount of the stake, to win pounds or lose sixpences.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XI. MR. MERL "AT FENCE"
+
+All the projects which Mr. Scanlan had struck out for Merl's occupation
+on the following day were marred by the unfavorable weather. It blew
+fiercely from the westward, driving upon shore a tremendous sea, and
+sending white masses of drift and foam far inland. The rain, too, came
+down in torrents. The low-lying clouds, which scarcely reached more than
+half-way up the mountain sides, seemed as if rent asunder at times,
+and from them came a deluge, filling all the watercourses, and swelling
+rivulets to the size of mighty torrents. The unceasing roll of thunder,
+now near, now rumbling along in distant volleys, swelled the wild
+uproar, and helped to make up a scene of grand but desolate meaning.
+
+What could well be drearier than that little line of cabins that formed
+the village of Kilkieran, as with strongly barricaded doors, and
+with roofs secured by ropes and spars, they stood exposed to the full
+violence of the wild Atlantic! Not a man, not a living thing was to be
+seen. The fishermen were all within doors, cowering in gloomy indolence
+over the scanty turf fires, and brooding darkly on the coming winter.
+
+With a thorough conviction of all the dreariness of this scene, Mr.
+Merl stood at the window and looked out. He had been all his life too
+actively engaged in his pursuits of one kind or other to know much about
+what is called "being bored." Let rain fall ever so heavily, a cab could
+take him down to "'Change,"--the worst weather never marred a sale of
+stock, and Consols could rise even while the mercury was falling. The
+business-life of a great city seems to care little for weather, and
+possibly they whose intent faculties are bent on gain, scarcely remember
+whether the sun shines upon their labors.
+
+Merl felt differently now; the scene before him was wilder and gloomier
+than anything he had ever beheld. Beyond and behind the village steep
+mountains rose on every side, of barren and rugged surface,--not a
+vestige of any culture to be seen; while on the road, which led along a
+narrow gorge, nothing moved. All was dreary and deserted.
+
+"I suppose you'll keep the roof over you to-day, Mr. Merl?" said
+Scanlan, as he entered the room, buttoned up to the chin in a coarse
+frieze coat, while his head was protected by a genuine "sou'-wester" of
+oilskin.
+
+"And are _you_ going out in such weather?" asked Merl.
+
+"'Needs must,' sir, as the proverb says. I have to be at the assizes
+at Oughterard this morning, to prosecute some scoundrels for cutting
+brambles in the wood; and I want to serve notices on a townland about
+eight miles from this; and then I 'll have to go round by Cro' Martin
+and see Miss Mary. That's not the worst of it," added he, with an
+impudent leer, "for she's a fine girl, and has the prettiest eyes in the
+kingdom."
+
+"I have a letter for her," said Merl,--"a letter of introduction from
+Captain Martin. I suppose I might as well send it by you, and ask if I
+might pay my respects to-morrow or next day?"
+
+"To be sure; I'll take it with pleasure. You'll like her when you see
+her. She's not a bit like the rest: no pride, no stand-off,--that
+is, when she takes a fancy; but she is full of life and courage for
+anything."
+
+"Ah, yes,--the Captain said we should get on very well together,"
+drawled out Merl.
+
+"Did he, though!" cried Scanlan, eagerly. Then as suddenly checking
+his anxiety, he added: "But what does _he_ know about Miss Mary? Surely
+they're as good as strangers to each other. And for the matter of that,
+even when he was here, they did n't take to each other,--she was always
+laughing at the way he rode."
+
+"Wasn't he in the dragoons?" asked Merl, in a half-rebutting tone.
+
+"So he was; but what does that signify? Sure it's not a cavalry seat,
+with your head down and your elbows squared, will teach you to cross
+country,--at least, with Mary Martin beside you. You'll see her one of
+these day yourself, Mr. Merl. May I never, if you don't see her now!"
+cried Scanlan, suddenly, as he pointed to the road along which a horse
+was seen coming at speed, the rider breasting the storm fearlessly, and
+only crouching to the saddle as the gusts swept past. "What in the name
+of all that's wonderful brings her here?" cried Maurice. "She wasn't
+down at Kilkieran for four months."
+
+"She'll stop at this inn here, I suppose?" said Merl who was already
+performing an imaginary toilet for her visit.
+
+"You may take your oath she'll not!" said Scanlan half roughly; "she
+'d not cross the threshold of it! She 's going to some cabin or other.
+There she goes,--is n't that riding?" cried he, in animation. "Did you
+ever see a horse held neater? And see how she picks the road for him!
+Easy as she's sitting, she 'd take a four-foot wall this minute, without
+stirring in her saddle."
+
+"She hasn't got a nice day for pleasuring!" said the Jew, with a vulgar
+cackle.
+
+"If ye call it pleasure," rejoined Scanlan, "what she's after; but I
+suspect there's somebody sick down at the end of the village. There, I
+'m right; she's pulling up at Mat Landy's,--I wonder if it's old Mat is
+bad."
+
+"You know him?" asked Merl.
+
+"To be sure I do. He 's known down the coast for forty miles. He
+saved more men from shipwreck himself than everybody in the barony put
+together; but his heart is all but broke about a granddaughter that ran
+away. Sure enough, she's going in there."
+
+"Did you see Miss Mary?" cried Crow, entering suddenly. "She's just gone
+down the beach. They say there's a case now down there."
+
+"A case--of what?" said Merl.
+
+"Cholera or typhus, as it may be," said Crow, not a little surprised at
+the unmistakable terror of the other's face.
+
+"And she's gone to see it!" exclaimed the Jew.
+
+"To do more than see it. She 'll nurse the sick man, and bring him
+medicine and whatever he wants."
+
+"And not afraid?"
+
+"Afraid!" broke in Crow. "I'd like to know what she's afraid of. Ask Mr.
+Scanlan what would frighten her." But Mr. Scanlan had already slipped
+noiselessly from the room, and was already on his way down the shore.
+
+"Well," said Merl, lighting his cigar, and drawing an arm-chair close
+to the fire, "I don't see the advantage of all that. She could send
+the doctor, I suppose, and make her servants take down to these people
+whatever she wanted to send them. What especial utility there is in
+going herself, I can't perceive."
+
+"I'll tell you, then," said Crow. "It's more likely the doctor is busy
+this minute, ten or fifteen miles away,--for the whole country is down
+in sickness; but even if he was n't, if it were not for her courage in
+going everywhere, braving danger and death every hour, there would be
+a general flight of all that could escape. They'd rush into the
+towns,--where already there's more sickness than they know how to deal
+with. She encourages some,--she shames more; and not a few are proud
+to be brave in such company, for she is an angel,--that's her name,--an
+angel."
+
+"Well, I should like to see her," drawled out Merl, as he smoothed down
+his scrubby mustachios.
+
+"Nothing easier, then," rejoined Crow. "Put on your coat and hat, and we
+'ll stroll down the beach till she comes out; it can't be very long, for
+she has enough on her hands elsewhere."
+
+The proposition of a "stroll" in such weather was very little to Mr.
+Merl's taste; but his curiosity was stronger than even his fear of a
+drenching, and having muffled and shawled himself as if for an Arctic
+winter, they set out together from the inn.
+
+"And you tell me," said he, "that the Martins used to live
+here,--actually pass their lives in this atrocious climate?"
+
+"That they did,--and the worst mistake they ever made was to leave it,"
+said Crow.
+
+"I confess you puzzle me," said Merl.
+
+"Very possibly I do, sir," was the calm reply; "but you'd have
+understood me at once had you known this country while they resided at
+Cro' Martin. It was n't only that the superfluities of their wealth ran
+over, and filled the cup of the poor man, but there was a sense of hope
+cherished, by seeing that however hard the times, however adverse the
+season, there was always 'his Honor,' as they called Mr. Martin, whom
+they could appeal to for aid or for lenient treatment."
+
+"Very strange, very odd, all this," said Merl, musing. "But all that I
+hear of Ireland represents the people as if in a continual struggle for
+mere existence, and actually in a daily state of dependence on the will
+of somebody above them."
+
+"And if that same condition were never to be exaggerated into downright
+want, or pushed to an actual slavery, we could be very happy with it,"
+said Crow, "and not thank you, or any other Englishman that came here,
+to disturb it."
+
+"I assure you I have no ambition to indulge in any such interference,"
+said Merl, with a half-contemptuous laugh.
+
+"And so you're not thinking of settling in Ireland?" asked Crow, in some
+surprise.
+
+"Never dreamed of it!"
+
+"Well, the story goes that you wanted to buy an estate, and came down to
+have a look at this property here."
+
+"I'd not live on it if Martin were to make me a present of it
+to-morrow."
+
+"I don't think he will," said Crow, gravely. "I am afraid he could n't,
+if he wished it."
+
+"What, do you mean on account of the entail?" asked Merl.
+
+"Not exactly." He paused, and after some silence said, "If the truth
+were told, there's a great deal of debt on this property,--more than any
+one suspects."
+
+"The Captain's encumbrances?" asked Merl, eagerly.
+
+"His grandfather's and his great-grandfather's! As for the present man,
+they say that he's tied up some way not to sell, except for the sake of
+redeeming some of the mortgages. But who knows what is true and what is
+false about all this?"
+
+Merl was silent; grave fears were crossing his mind how far his claims
+were valid; and terrible misgivings shot across him lest the Captain
+might have been paying him with valueless securities.
+
+"I gather from what you say," said he, at last, "that it would be rather
+difficult to make out a title for any purchaser of this estate."
+
+"Don't be afraid of that, sir. They'll make you out a fair title."
+
+"I tell you again, I'd not take it as a present," said Merl, half
+angrily.
+
+"I see," said Crow, nodding his head sententiously. And then fixing his
+eyes steadily on him, he said, "You are a mortgagee."
+
+Merl reddened,--partly anger, partly shame. Indeed, the feeling that
+such a capacity as Mr. Crow's should have pushed him hard, was anything
+but complimentary to his self-esteem.
+
+"I don't want to pry into any man's affairs," said Crow, easily. "Heaven
+knows it's mighty little matter to Simmy Crow who lives in the big house
+there. I 'd rather, if I had my choice, be able to walk the wood with my
+sketch-book and brushes than be the richest man that ever was heartsore
+with the cares of wealth."
+
+"And if a friend--a sincere, well-wishing friend--were to bind himself
+that you should enjoy this same happiness you speak of, Mr. Crow, what
+would you do in return?"
+
+"Anything he asked me,--anything, at least, that a fair man could ask,
+and an honest one could do."
+
+"There's my hand on it, then," said Merl. "It's a bargain."
+
+"Ay, but let us hear the conditions," said Crow. "What could I possibly
+serve you in, that would be worth this price?"
+
+"Simply this: that you'll answer all my inquiries, so far as you know
+about this estate; and where your knowledge fails, that you'll endeavor
+to obtain the information for me."
+
+"Maybe I could tell you nothing at all--or next to nothing," said Crow.
+"Just ask me, now, what's the kind of question you 'd put; for, to tell
+truth, I 'm not over bright or clever,--the best of me is when I've a
+canvas before me."
+
+Merl peered stealthily at the speaker over the great folds of the shawl
+that enveloped his throat; he was not without his misgivings that the
+artist was a "deep fellow," assuming a manner of simplicity to draw him
+into a confidence. "And yet," he thought, "had he really been shrewd
+and cunning, he 'd never have blurted out his suspicion as to my being
+a mortgagee. Besides," said he to himself, "there, and with that fact,
+must end all his knowledge of me." "You can dine with me to-day, Mr.
+Crow, can't you?"
+
+"I 'm engaged to the stranger in No. 4,--the man I'm making the drawings
+for."
+
+"But you could get off. You could ask him to excuse you by saying that
+something of importance required you elsewhere?"
+
+"And dine in the room underneath?" asked Crow, with a comical look of
+distress at this suggestion.
+
+"Well, let us go somewhere else. Is there no other inn in the
+neighborhood?"
+
+"There's a small public-house near the gate of Cro' Martin, to be sure."
+
+"Then we'll dine there. I'll order a chaise at four o'clock, and we 'll
+drive over together. And now, I 'll just return to the house, for this
+wading here is not much to my taste."
+
+Mr. Merl returned gloomily to the house, his mind too deeply occupied
+with his own immediate interests to bestow any thought upon Mary Martin.
+The weather assuredly offered but little inducement to linger out of
+doors, for, as the morning wore on, the rain and wind increased in
+violence, while vast masses of mist swept over the sea and were carried
+on shore, leaving only, at intervals, little patches of the village to
+be seen,--dreary, storm-beaten, and desolate! Merl shuddered, as he cast
+one last look at this sad-colored picture, and entered the inn.
+
+Has it ever been your ill-fortune, good reader, to find yourself alone
+in some dreary, unfrequented spot, the weather-bound denizen of a sorry
+inn, without books or newspapers, thrown upon the resources of your own
+thoughts, so sure to take their color from the dreary scene around them?
+It is a trying ordeal for the best of tempers. Your man of business
+chafes and frets against the inactivity; your man of leisure sorrows
+over monotony that makes idleness a penalty. He whose thoroughfare in
+life is the pursuit of wealth thinks of all those more fortunate than
+himself then hurrying on to gain, while he who is the mark of the
+world's flatteries and attentions laments over the dismal desolation of
+an uncompanionable existence.
+
+If Mr. Merl did not exactly occupy any one of these categories, he
+fancied, at least, that he oscillated amidst them all. It was, indeed,
+his good pleasure to imagine himself a "man upon town," who played a
+little, discounted a little, dealt a little in old pictures, old china,
+old cabinets, and old plate, but all for mere pastime,--something, as he
+would say, "to give him an interest in it;" and there, certainly, he was
+right. Nothing so surely imparted an "interest" in Mr. Merl's eyes as
+having an investment. Objects of art, the greatest triumphs of genius,
+landscape the richest eye ever ranged over, political events that would
+have awakened a sense of patriotism in the dullest and coldest, all came
+before him as simple questions of profit and loss.
+
+If he was not actually a philosopher, some of his views of life were
+characterized by great shrewdness. He had remarked, for instance, that
+the changeful fashions of the world are ever alternating; and that not
+only dress and costume and social customs undergo mutations, but that
+objects of positive sterling value are liable to the same wayward
+influences. We are all modern to-day, to-morrow we may be "Louis
+Quatorze," the next day "Cinque Centi" in our tastes. Now we are
+mad after Italian art, yesterday the Dutch school was in vogue. Our
+galleries, our libraries, our houses, our gardens, all feel the caprices
+of these passing moods. There was but one thing that Mr. Merl had
+perceived never changed, and that was the estimation men felt for money.
+Religions might decay, and states crumble, thrones totter, and kings be
+exiled, Cuyps might be depreciated and marquetry be held in mean esteem;
+but gold was always within a fraction at least of four pounds eleven
+shillings the ounce!
+
+He remarked, too, that men gradually grow tired of almost everything;
+the pursuits of the young are not those of the middle-aged, still less
+of advanced life. The books which we once cried over are now thrown down
+with languor; the society we imagined perfection we now smile at for its
+very absurdities. We see vulgarity where we once beheld vigor; we detect
+exaggeration where we used to attribute power. There is only one theme
+of which our estimation never varies,--wealth! Mr. Merl had never yet
+met the man nor the woman who really despised it; nay, he had seen kings
+trafficking on 'Change. He had known great ministers deep speculators
+on the Bourse; valiant admirals, distinguished generals, learned judges,
+and even divines, had bought and sold with him, all eager in the pursuit
+of gain, and all employing, to the best of their ability, the high
+faculties of their intelligence to assist them in making crafty
+bargains.
+
+If these experiences taught him the universal veneration men feel
+for wealth, they also conveyed another lesson, which was, the extreme
+gullibility of mankind. He met every day men who ruled cabinets and
+commanded fleets,--the reputed great of the earth,--and saw them easier
+victims in his hand than the commonest capacity in "Leadenhall Street."
+They had the earliest information, but could not profit by it; they
+never understood the temper on 'Change, knew nothing of the variations
+of the money-barometer, and invariably fell into snares that your city
+man never incurred. Hence Mr. Merl came to conceive a very low general
+opinion of what he himself called "the swells," and a very high one of
+Herman Merl.
+
+If we have dwelt upon these traits of this interesting individual in
+this place, it is simply to place before our reader's mind the kind
+of lucubrations such a man might be disposed to indulge in. In fact,
+story-tellers like ourselves have very little pretension to go beyond
+the narrow limit; and having given to the reader the traits of a
+character, they must leave their secret working more or less to his
+ingenuity. So much, however, we are at liberty to declare, that Mr. Merl
+was terribly bored, and made no scruple of confessing it.
+
+"What the deuce are you staring at? Is there anything really to be seen
+in that confounded dreary sea?" cried he, as Crow stood shading his eyes
+from the lightning flashes, and intently gazing on the scene without.
+
+"That's one of the effects Backhuysen was so fond of!" exclaimed Crow,
+eagerly,--"a sullen sea, lead-colored and cold, with a white curl just
+crisping the top of the waves, over it a dreary expanse of dark sky,
+low-lying and black, till you come near the horizon, where there is a
+faint line of grayish white, just enough to show that you are on the
+wide, wide ocean, out of sight of land, and nothing living near, except
+that solitary sea-gull perched upon the breakers there. There's real
+poetry in a bit like that; it sets one a thinking over the desolation of
+those whose life is little better than a voyage on such a sea!"
+
+"Better be drowned at once," broke in Merl, impatiently.
+
+Crow started and looked at him; and had Merl but seen that glance, so
+scornful and contemptuous was it, even his self-esteem might have felt
+outraged. But he had not remarked it; and as little did he guess what
+was then passing in the poor artist's mind, as Crow muttered to himself,
+"I know one that will not be your guest to-day, if he dines on a cold
+potato, or does n't dine at all."
+
+"Did I tell you," cried he, suddenly, "that there's no horses to be
+had?"
+
+"No horses!" exclaimed Merl; "how so?"
+
+"There's a great trial going on at the assizes to-day, and Mr. Barry is
+gone on to Oughterard to hear it, and he has the only pair of posters in
+the place."
+
+"What a confounded hole!" burst out Merl, passionately. "That I ever
+should have set my foot in it! How are we to get through the day here?
+Have you thought of anything to be done?"
+
+"_I'll_ go down and find out how poor Landy is," said Crow; "for Miss
+Mary's horse is still at the door, and he must be very bad, indeed, or
+she wouldn't delay so long."
+
+"And what if it should turn out the cholera, or typhus, or something as
+bad?"
+
+"Well?" said Crow, interrogatively; for he could not guess the drift of
+the suggestion.
+
+"Simply this, my worthy friend," resumed Merl,--"that I have no fancy
+for the pleasure of your company at dinner after such an excursion as
+you speak of."
+
+"I was just going to say that myself," said Crow. "Good-bye!" And before
+Merl could interpose a word, he was gone.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XII. MR. MERL'S MEDITATIONS.
+
+Our last chapter left Mr. Herman Merl in bad company,--he was alone.
+Now, very few men's thoughts are companionable in the dreary solitude
+of a sorry inn. None of us, it is to be feared, are totally exempt from
+"this world's crosses;" and though the sorrows of life do fall very
+unequally, the light afflictions are accepted as very heavy burdens by
+those to whose lot they fall!
+
+Just as it happens, then, on some gloomy day of winter, when we have
+"finished our book," and the newspapers are tiresome, we take the
+opportunity to look through our letters and papers,--to arrange
+our desk, and put a little order in our scattered and littered
+memoranda,--somewhat in the same spirit will Conscience grasp a similar
+moment to go over the past, glance at bygone events, and make, as it
+were, a clearance of whatever weighs upon our memory. I 'm not quite
+certain that the best of us come out of this Bankruptcy Court with a
+first-class certificate. Even the most merciful to his own errors will
+acknowledge that in many things he should do differently were they to
+be done over again; and he must, indeed, have fallen upon a happy lot
+in life who has not some self-reproach on the score of kindness
+unrequited,--slight injuries either unforgiven or unequally
+avenged,--friendships jeopardized, mayhap lost, by some mere indulgence
+of temper,--and enmities unreconciled, just for lack of the veriest
+sacrifice of self-love.
+
+Were there any such court in morals as in law, what a sad spectacle
+would our schedule show, and how poor even the most solvent amongst us,
+if called on for a list of his liabilities!
+
+Lest our moralizing should grow uncomfortable, dear reader, let us
+return to Mr. Merl, now occupied, as he was, in this same process of
+self-examination. He sat with a little note-book before him, recalling
+various incidents of the past. And if the lowering expression of his
+face might be trusted, his reveries were not rose-colored; and yet, as
+he turned over the pages, it might be seen that moments of gratulation
+alternated with the intervals of self-reproach.
+
+"Wednesday, the 10th," muttered he to himself, "dined at
+Philippe's--supped with Arkright and Bailey--whist at double Nap.
+points--won four hundred and ten--might have made it a thousand, but
+B. flung the cards out of the window in a passion, and had to cease
+playing.
+
+"Thursday--toothache--stayed at home, and played piquet with
+myself--discovered two new combinations, in taking in cards--Irving came
+to see me--won from him twenty pounds his mother had just sent him.
+
+"Friday--a good day's work--walked into Martin for two thousand seven
+hundred, and took his bill at three months, with promise to renew--dined
+with Sitwell, and sold him my Perugino for six hundred--cost myself not
+as many francs--am to have the refusal of all Vanderbrett's cabinets for
+letting him off his match with Columbine, which, by the way, he was sure
+to win, as Mope is dead lame.
+
+"Martin again--Saturday--came to have his revenge, but seemed
+quarrelsome; so I affected an engagement, and declined play.
+
+"Sunday--gave him his revenge, to the tune of twelve hundred in my
+own favor--'Lansquenet' in the evening at his rooms--several swells
+present--thought it prudent to drop some tin, and so, lost one hundred
+and forty Naps.--Sir Giles Bruce the chief winner--rich, and within two
+months of being of age.
+
+"Monday--the Perugino returned as a bad copy by Fava--took it at once,
+and said I was taken in myself--Sitwell so pleased that he sat down to
+�cart�, and lost two hundred to me. I dine with him to-morrow.
+
+"Tuesday--blank--dinner at Sitwell's--met Colonel Cardie, whom I saw at
+Hombourg, and so refused to play. It was, I suspect, a plan of Sitwell's
+to pit us against each other.
+
+"Wednesday--sold out my African at seventy-one and an eighth--realized
+well, and bought in Poyais, which will rise for at least ten days to
+come--took Canchard's ch�teau at Ghent for his old debt at �cart�--don't
+like it, as it may be talked about.
+
+"Gave a dinner to Wilson, Morris, Leader, Whyte, and Martin--Lescour
+could n't come--played little whist afterwards--changed for hazard after
+supper--won a few Naps., and home to bed.
+
+"Took Rigby's curricle and horses for the two hundred he owes me--glad
+to have done with him--he evidently wanted a row--and so play with him
+no more.
+
+"Sent ten Naps, to the fund for the poor injured by the late
+inundations, as the police called to ask about my passport, &c.
+
+"Saturday--the Cur� of St. Rochette, to ask for alms--gave three hundred
+francs, and secured his services against the police--the cur� mentions
+some curious drawings in the sacristy--promised to go and see them.
+
+"Bought Walrond's library for a franc a volume--the Elzevirs alone
+worth double the amount paid--Bailey bolted, and so lose his last
+bills--Martin quarrelsome--said he never yet won at any sitting with
+me--lost seventy to him, and sent him home satisfied.
+
+"Gave five hundred francs for the drawings at St. R------, abominable
+daubs; but the police grow more troublesome every day--besides,
+Crowthorpe is collecting early studies of Rembrandt--these sketches are
+marked R.
+
+"A great evening--cleared Martin out--suspect that this night's work
+makes me an Irish estated gentleman--must obtain legal opinion as to
+these same Irish securities and post-obits, involving, as they do, a
+heavy sum."
+
+Mr. Merl paused at this _entr�e_ in his diary, and began to reflect in
+no very gratulatory mood on the little progress he had as yet made in
+this same object of inquiry; in fact, he was just discovering what a
+vast number of more shrewd observers than himself have long since found
+out, that exploring in Ireland is rather tough work. Everything looks so
+easy and simple and plain upon the surface, and yet is so puzteling and
+complicated beneath; all seems so intelligible, where there is nothing
+in reality that is not a contradiction. It is true he was not harassing
+himself with problems of labor and wages, the condition of the people,
+the effects of emigration, and so forth. He wanted to ascertain some
+few facts as to the value of a certain estate, and what incumbrances it
+might be charged with; and to the questions he put on this head, every
+reply was an insinuated interrogatory to himself. "Why are _you_ here,
+Mr. Merl?" "How does it concern _you?_" "What may be _your_ interest in
+the same investigation?" This peculiar dialectic met him as he landed;
+it followed him to the West. Scanlan, the landlord, even that poor
+simpleton the painter--as he called Crow--had submitted him to its harsh
+rule, till Mr. Merl felt that, instead of pursuing an examination, he
+was himself everlastingly in the witness-box.
+
+Wearied of these speculations, dissatisfied with himself and his
+fruitless journey, he summoned the landlord to ask if that "old gent"
+above stairs had not a book of some kind, or a newspaper, he could lend
+him. A ragged urchin speedily returned with a key in his hand, saying,
+"That's the key of No. 4. Joe says you may go up and search for
+yourself."
+
+One more scrupulous might not exactly have fancied the office
+thus suggested to him. He, however, was rather pleased with the
+investigation, and having satisfied himself that the mission was safe,
+set forth to fulfil it. No. 4, as the stranger's room was called, was a
+large and lofty chamber, lighted by a single bay-window, the deep recess
+of which was occupied by a writing-table. Books, maps, letters, and
+drawings littered every part of the room. Costly weapons, too, such as
+richly chased daggers and inlaid pistols, lay carelessly about, with
+curiously shaped pipes and gold-embroidered tobacco-bags; a richly lined
+fur pelisse covered the sofa, and a skull-cap of the very finest sable
+lay beside it. All these were signs of affluence and comfort, and Mr.
+Merl pondered over them as he went from place to place, tossing over one
+thing after another, and losing himself in wild conjectures about the
+owner.
+
+The writing-table, we have said, was thickly strewn with letters, and to
+these he now addressed himself in all form, taking his seat comfortably
+for the investigation. Many of the letters were in foreign languages,
+and from remote and far-away lands. Some he was enabled to spell out,
+but they referred to places and events he had never heard of, and were
+filled with allusions he could not fathom. At length, however, he came
+to documents which interested him more closely. They were notes, most
+probably in the stranger's own hand, of his late tour along the coast.
+Mournful records were they all,--sad stories of destitution and want, a
+whole people struck down by famine and sickness, and a land perishing in
+utter misery. No personal narrative broke the dreary monotony of these
+gloomy records, and Merl searched in vain for what might give a clew
+to the writer's station or his object. Carefully drawn-up statistics,
+tables of the varying results of emigration, notes upon the tenure of
+land and the price of labor were all there, interspersed with replies
+from different quarters to researches of the writer's making. Numerous
+appeals to charity, entreaties for small loans of money, were mingled
+with grateful acknowledgments for benefits already received. There was
+much, had he been so minded, that Mr. Merl might have learned in this
+same unauthorized inquiry. There were abundant traits of the people
+displayed, strange insight into customs and ways peculiar to them,
+accurate knowledge, too, of the evils of their social condition;
+and, above all, there were the evidences of that curious compound of
+credulity and distrust, hope and fatalism, energy and inertness, which
+make up the Irish nature.
+
+He threw these aside, however, as themes that had no interest for him.
+What had he to do with the people? His care was with the soil, and less
+even with it than with its burdens and incumbrances. One conviction
+certainly did impress itself strongly upon him,--that he 'd part with
+his claims on the estate for almost anything, in preference to himself
+assuming the cares and duties of an Irish landlord,--a position which he
+summed up by muttering to himself, "is simply to have so many acres of
+bad land, with the charge of feeding so many thousands of bad people."
+Here were suggestions, it is true, how to make them better, coupled
+with details that showed the writer to be one well acquainted with the
+difficulties of his task; here, also, were dark catalogues of crime,
+showing how destitution and vice went hand in hand, and that the seasons
+of suffering were those of lawlessness and violence. Various hands were
+detectable in these documents. Some evinced the easy style and graceful
+penmanship of education; others were written in the gnarled hand of the
+daily, laborer. Many of these were interlined in what Merl soon detected
+to be the stranger's own handwriting; and brief as such remarks were,
+they sufficed to show how carefully their contents had been studied by
+him.
+
+"What could be the object of all this research? Was he some emissary of
+the Government, sent expressly to obtain this knowledge? Was he employed
+by some section of party politicians, or was he one of those literary
+philanthropists who trade upon the cheap luxury of pitying the poor and
+detailing their sorrows? At all events," thought Mr. Merl, "this same
+information seems to have cost him considerable research, and not
+a little money; and as I am under a pledge to give the Captain some
+account of his dear country, here is a capital opportunity to do so,
+not only with ease, but actually with honor." And having formed this
+resolve, he instantly proceeded to its execution. That wonderful little
+note-book, with its strong silver clasps, so full of strange and curious
+information, was now produced; but he soon saw that the various facts to
+be recorded demanded a wider space, and so he set himself to write down
+on a loose sheet of paper notices of the land in tillage or in pasture,
+the numerical condition of the people as compared with former years,
+their state, their prospects; but when he came to tell of the ravages
+made and still making by pestilence amongst them, he actually stopped to
+reread the records, so terrible and astounding were the facts narrated.
+A dreadful malady walked the land, and its victims lay in every house!
+The villages were depopulated, the little clusters of houses at cross
+roads were stricken, the lone shealing on the mountain side, the
+miserable cottage of the dreary moor, were each the scenes of desolation
+and death. It was as though the land were about to be devastated, and
+the race of man swept from its surface! As he read on, he came upon
+some strictures in the stranger's own hand upon these sad events, and
+perceived how terribly had the deserted, neglected state of the people
+aided the fatal course of the epidemic. No hospitals had been provided,
+no stores of any remedial kind, not a doctor for miles around, save an
+old physician who had been retained at Miss Martin's special charge, and
+who was himself nigh exhausted by the fatigue of his office.
+
+Mr. Merl laid down his pen to think,--not, indeed, in any compassionate
+spirit of that suffering people; his sorrows were not for those who lay
+on beds of want and sickness; his whole anxiety was for a certain person
+very dear to his own heart, who had rashly accepted securities on a
+property which, to all seeming, was verging upon ruin; this conviction
+being strongly impressed by the lawless state of the country, and the
+hopelessness of expecting payment from a tenantry so circumstanced.
+
+"Sympathy, indeed!" cried he; "I should like to hear of a little
+sympathy for the unlucky fellow who has accepted a mortgage on this
+confounded estate! These wretched creatures have little to lose,--and
+even death itself ought to be no unwelcome relief to a life like
+theirs,--but to a man such as I am, with abundance of projects for his
+spare cash, this is a pretty investment! It is not impossible that this
+philanthropic stranger, whoever he be, might buy up my bonds. He should
+have them a bargain,--ay, by Jove! I'd take off a jolly percentage to
+touch the 'ready;' and who knows, what with all his benevolence, his
+charity, and his Christian kindliness, if he 'd not come down handsomely
+to rescue this unhappy people from the hands of a Jew!"
+
+And Mr. Merl laughed pleasantly, for the conceit amused him, and it
+sounded gratefully to his imagination that even his faith could be put
+out to interest, and the tabernacle be turned to good account. The noise
+of a chaise approaching at a sharp trot along the shingly beach startled
+him from his musings, and he had barely time to snatch up the paper
+on which he had scrawled his notes, and hasten downstairs, when the
+obsequious landlord, rushing to the door, ushered in Mr. Barry, and
+welcomed him back again.
+
+Merl suffered his door to stand ajar, that he might take a look at
+the stranger as he passed. He was a very large, powerfully built man,
+somewhat stooped by age, but showing even in advanced years signs of a
+vigorous frame and stout constitution; his head was massive, and covered
+with snow-white hair, which descended on the back of his neck. His
+countenance must in youth have been handsome, and even yet bore the
+expression of a frank, generous, but somewhat impetuous nature,--so
+at least it struck him who now observed it; a character not improbably
+aided by his temper as he entered, for he had returned from scenes of
+misery and suffering, and was in a mood of indignation at the neglect he
+had just witnessed.
+
+"You said truly," said he to the landlord. "You told me I shouldn't
+see a gentleman for twenty miles round; that all had fled and left the
+people to their fate, and I see now it is a fact."
+
+"Faix, and no wonder," answered the host. "Wet potatoes and the shaking
+ague, not to speak of cholera morbus, is n't great inducements to stay
+and keep company with. I 'd be off, too, if I had the means."
+
+"But I spoke of gentlemen, sir," said the stranger, with a strong
+emphasis on the word,--"men who should be the first to prove their birth
+and blood when a season of peril was near."
+
+"Thrue for you, sir," chimed in Joe, who suddenly detected the blunder
+he had committed. "The Martins ought not to have run away in the middle
+of our distress."
+
+"They left the ship in a storm; they 'll find a sorry wreck when they
+return to it," muttered the stranger, as he ascended the stairs.
+
+"By Jacob! just what I suspected," said Merl to himself, while he closed
+the door; "this property won't be worth sixpence, and I am regularly
+'done.'"
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIII. A NIGHT OF STORM
+
+The curtains were closely drawn, and a cheerful turf fire blazed in
+the room where Mr. Merl sat at dinner. The fare was excellent, and even
+rustic cookery sufficed to make fresh salmon and mountain mutton and
+fat woodcocks delectable; while the remains of Mr. Scanlan's hamper set
+forth some choice Madeira and several bottles of Sneyd's claret. Nor was
+he for whose entertainment these good things were provided in any way
+incapable of enjoying them. With the peculiar sensuality of his race,
+he loved his dinner all to himself and alone. He delighted in the
+privileged selfishness that isolation conferred, and he revelled in a
+sort of complacent flattery at the thought of all the people who were
+dining worse than himself, and the stray thousands besides who were not
+destined on that day to dine at all.
+
+The self-caressing shudder that came over him as the sound of a horse at
+speed on the shore outside was heard, spoke plainly as words themselves
+the pleasant comparison that crossed his mind between the condition of
+the rider and his own. He drew nearer the fire, he threw on a fresh log
+of pine, and, filling up a bumper, seemed to linger as he viewed it, as
+though wishing health and innumerable blessings to Mr. Herman Merl.
+
+The noise of the clattering hoofs died away in distance and in the
+greater uproar of the storm, and Mr. Merl thought no more of them. How
+often happens it, dear reader, that some brief interruption flashes
+through our seasons of enjoyment; we are startled, perhaps; we even
+need a word or two to reassure us that all is well, and then the work of
+pleasure goes on, and we forget that it had ever been retarded; and
+yet, depend upon it, in that fleeting second of time some sad episode of
+human life has, like a spectre, crossed our path, and some deep sorrow
+gone wearily past us.
+
+Let us follow that rider, then, who now, quitting the bleak shore,
+has entered a deep gorge between the mountain. The rain swept along in
+torrents; the wind in fitful gusts dashes the mountain stream in many a
+wayward shape, and snaps the stems of old trees in pieces; landslips and
+broken rocks impede the way; and yet that brave horse holds ever onward,
+now stretching to a fast gallop, now gathering himself to clear some
+foaming torrent, or some fragment of fallen timber.
+
+The night is so dark that the rider cannot see the horse's length in
+advance; but every feature of the way is well known, and an instinctive
+sense of the peril to be apprehended at each particular spot guides that
+hand and nerves that heart. Mary Martin--for she it is--had ridden that
+same path at all seasons and all hours, but never on a wilder night,
+nor through a more terrible hurricane than this. At moments her speed
+relaxed, as if to breathe her horse; and twice she pulled up short, to
+listen and distinguish between the sound of thunder and the crashing
+noise of rocks rolling from the mountain. There was a sublimity in the
+scene, lit up at moments by the lightning; and a sense of peril, too,
+that exalted the adventurous spirit of the girl, and imparted to her
+heart a high heroic feeling. The glorious sentiment of confronting
+danger animated and excited her; and her courage rose with each new
+difficulty of the way, till her very brain seemed to reel with the wild
+transport of her emotions.
+
+As she emerged from the gorge, she gained a high tableland, over which
+the wind swept unimpeded. Not a cliff, not a rock, not a tree, broke the
+force of the gale, which raged with all the violence of a storm at sea.
+Crouching low upon the saddle, stooping at times to the mane, she could
+barely make way against the hurricane; and more than once her noble
+charger was driven backward, and forced to turn his back to the storm.
+_Her_ courage never failed. Taking advantage of every passing lull, she
+dashed forward, ready to wheel and halt when the wind shot past with
+violence.
+
+Descending at last from this elevated plateau, she again entered a deep
+cleft between the mountain, the road littered with fallen earth and
+branches of trees, so as almost to defy a passage. After traversing
+upwards of a mile of this wearisome way, she arrived at the door of a
+small cabin, the first trace of habitation since she had quitted the
+village. It was a mere hovel, abutting against a rock, and in its dreary
+solitude seemed the last refuge of direst poverty.
+
+She bent down from her saddle to look in at the window; but, except some
+faint embers on the hearth, all was dark within. She then knocked with
+her whip against the door, and called "Morris" two or three times; but
+no reply was given. Springing from her horse, Mary fastened the bridle
+to the hasp of the door-post, and entered. The heavy breathing of one
+in deep sleep at once caught her attention > and, approaching the
+fireplace, she lighted a piece of pine-wood to examine about her. On a
+low settle in one corner lay the figure of a young woman, whose pale,
+pinched features contrasted strongly with the bright ribbons of her cap
+floating loosely at either side. Mary tottered as she drew nigher; a
+terrible sense of fear was over her,--a terror of she knew not what.
+She held the flickering flame closer, and saw that she was dead! Poor
+Margaret, she had been one of Mary's chief favorites; the very cap that
+now decked her cold forehead was Mary's wedding-gift to her. But a few
+days before, her little child had been carried to the churchyard; and
+it was said that the mother never held up her head after. Sick almost
+to fainting, Mary Martin sank into a chair, and then saw, for the first
+time, the figure of a man, who, half kneeling, lay with his head on the
+foot of the bed, fast asleep! Weariness, utter exhaustion, were
+marked in his pale-worn features, while his attitude bespoke complete
+prostration. His hand still clasped a little rosary.
+
+[Illustration: 156]
+
+It seemed but the other day that she had wished them "joy" upon their
+wedding, and they had gone home to their little cabin in hopefulness
+and high-hearted spirit, and there she lay now a cold corpse, and he,
+bereaved and childless. What a deal of sad philosophy do these words
+reveal! What dark contrasts do we bring up when we say, "It was but the
+other day." It was but "the other day," and Cro' Martin was the home
+of one whose thriving tenantry reflected back all his efforts for their
+welfare, when movement and occupation bespoke a condition of activity
+and cheerful industry; when, even in their poverty, the people bore
+bravely up, and the cases of suffering but sufficed to call out traits
+of benevolence and kind feeling. It was but "the other day," and Mary
+herself rode out amidst the people, like some beloved sovereign in the
+middle of her subjects; happy faces beamed brighter when she came, and
+even misery half forgot itself in her presence. But "the other day" and
+the flag waved proudly from the great tower, to show that Cro' Martin
+was the residence of its owner, and Mary the life and soul of all that
+household!
+
+Such-like were her thoughts as she stood still gazing on the sad scene
+before her. She could not bring herself to awaken the poor fellow, who
+thus, perchance, stole a short respite from his sorrows; but leaving
+some money beside him on a chair, and taking one farewell look of poor
+Margaret, she stole silently away, and remounted her horse.
+
+Again she is away through the storm and the tempest! Her pace is now
+urged to speed, for she knows every field and every fence,--where to
+press her horse to his gallop, where to spare and husband his strength.
+At one moment she steals carefully along amid fragments of fallen rocks
+and broken timber; at another, she flies, with racing speed, over the
+smooth sward. At length, through the gloom and darkness, the tall towers
+of Cro' Martin are seen over the deep woods; but her horse's head is not
+turned thitherward. No; she has taken another direction, and, skirting
+the wall of the demesne, she is off towards the wild, bleak country
+beyond. It is past midnight; not a light gleams from a cabin window as
+she dashes past; all is silent save the plashing rain, which, though the
+wind has abated, continues to fall in torrents. Crossing the bleak moor,
+whose yawning pits even in daylight suggest care and watchfulness, she
+gains the foot of the barren mountain on which Barnagheela stands,
+and descries in the distance the flickering of a light dimly traceable
+through the falling rain.
+
+For the first time her horse shows signs of fatigue, and Mary caresses
+him with her hand, and speaks encouragingly to him as she slackens her
+pace, ascending the hill at a slow walk. After about half an hour of
+this toilsome progress, for the surface is stony and rock-covered, she
+reaches the little "boreen" road which forms the approach to the house.
+Mary has never been there before, and advances now slowly and carefully
+between two rude walls of dry masonry which lead to the hall-door. As
+she nears the house, the gleam of lights from between the ill-closed
+shutters attracts her, and suddenly through the swooping rain come the
+sounds of several voices in tones of riot and revelry. She listens; and
+it is now the rude burst of applause that breaks forth,--a din of voices
+loudly proclaiming the hearty approval of some sentiment or opinion.
+
+While she halts to determine what course next to follow,--for these
+signs of revelry have disconcerted her,--she hears a rough, loud voice
+from within call out, "There's another toast you must drink now, and
+fill for it to the brim. Come, Peter Hayes, no skulking; the liquor is
+good, and the sentiment the same. Gentlemen, you came here to-night to
+honor my poor house--my ancestral house, I may call it--on the victory
+we 've gained over tyranny and oppression." Loud cheers here interrupted
+him, but he resumed: "They tried--by the aid of the law that they made
+themselves--to turn me out of my house and home. They did all that false
+swearing and forged writing could do, to drive me--me, Tom Magennis,
+the last of an ancient stock--out upon the highways." (Groans from the
+hearers.) "But they failed,--ay, gentlemen, they failed. Old Repton,
+with all his skill, and Scanlan, with all his treachery, could n't do
+it. Joe Nelligan, like Goliath--no, like David, I mean--put a stone
+between their two eyes, and laid them low." (Loud cheering, and cries of
+"Why is n't he here?" "Where is he to-night?") "Ay, gentlemen," resumed
+the speaker, "ye may well ask where is he this night? when we are
+celebrating not only our triumph, but his; for it was the first brief he
+ever held,--the first guinea he ever touched for a fee! I 'll tell
+you where he is. Skulking--ay, that's the word for it--skulking in
+Oughterard,--hiding himself for shame because he beat the Martins!" (
+Loud expressions of anger, and some of dissent, here broke forth; some
+inveighing against this cowardice, others defending him against the
+charge.) "Say what you like," roared Magennis; "I know, and he knows
+that I know it. What was it he said when Mahony went to him with my
+brief? 'I'll not refuse to undertake the case,' said he, 'but I 'll not
+lend myself to any scurrilous attack upon the family at Cro' Martin!'"
+(Groans.) "Ay, but listen," continued he: "'And if I find,' said he--'if
+I find that in the course of the case such an attempt should be made, I
+'ll throw down my brief though I never should hold another.' There's Joe
+Nelligan for you! There's the stuff you thought you 'd make a Patriot
+out of!"
+
+"Say what you like, Tom Magennis, he's a credit to the town," said old
+Hayes, "and he won your cause this day against one of the 'cutest of the
+Dublin counsellors."
+
+"He did so, sir," resumed Magennis, "and he got his pay, and there's
+nothing between us; and I told him so, and more besides; for I said,
+'You may flatter them and crawl to them; you may be as servile as a
+serpent or a boa-constrictor to them; but take _my_ word for it, Mister
+Joe,--or Counsellor Nelligan, if you like it better,--they'll never
+forget who and what you are,--the son of old Dan there, of the High
+Street,--and you 've a better chance to be the Chief Justice than the
+husband of Mary Martin!'"
+
+"You told him that!" cried several together. "I did, sir; and I believe
+for a minute he meant to strike me; he got pale with passion, and then
+he got red--blood red; and, in that thick way he has when he 's angry,
+he said, 'Whatever may be my hopes of the Bench, I'll not win my way
+to it by ever again undertaking the cause of a ruffian!' 'Do you mean
+_me?_' said I,--'do you mean _me?_' But he turned away into the house,
+and I never saw him since. If it had n't been for Father Neal there, I
+'d have had him out for it, sir!"
+
+"We've other work before us than quarrelling amongst ourselves," said
+the bland voice of Father Rafferty; "and now for your toast, Tom, for I
+'m dry waiting for it."
+
+"Here it is, then," cried Magennis. "A speedy downfall to the Martins!"
+
+"A speedy downfall to the Martins!" was repeated solemnly in chorus;
+while old Hayes interposed, "Barring the niece,--barring Miss Mary."
+
+"I won't except one," cried Magennis. "My august leader remarked,
+'It was false pity for individuals destroyed the great revolution of
+France.' It was--" Mary did not wait for more, but, turning her horse's
+head, moved slowly around towards the back of the house.
+
+Through a wide space, of which the rickety broken gate hung by a single
+hinge, Mary entered a large yard, a court littered with disabled carts,
+harrows, and other field implements, all equally unserviceable. Beneath
+a low shed along one of the walls stood three or four horses, with
+harness on them, evidently belonging to the guests assembled within. All
+these details were plainly visible by the glare of an immense fire which
+blazed on the kitchen hearth, and threw its light more than half-way
+across the yard. Having disposed of her horse at one end of the shed,
+Mary stealthily drew nigh the kitchen window, and looked in. An old,
+very old woman, in the meanest attire, sat crouching beside the fire;
+and although she held a huge wooden ladle in her hand, seemed, by her
+drooped head and bent-down attitude, either moping or asleep. Various
+cooking utensils were on the fire, and two or three joints of meat hung
+roasting before it, while the hearth was strewn with dishes, awaiting
+the savory fare that was to fill them.
+
+These, and many other indications of the festivity then going on within,
+Mary rapidly noticed; but it was evident, from the increasing eagerness
+of her gaze, that the object which she sought had not yet met her eye.
+Suddenly, however, the door of the kitchen opened and a figure entered,
+on which the young girl bent all her attention. It was Joan Landy, but
+how different from the half-timid, half-reckless peasant girl that last
+we saw her! Dressed in a heavy gown of white satin, looped up on either
+side with wreaths of flowers, and wearing a rich lace cap on her head,
+she rushed hurriedly in, her face deeply flushed, and her eyes sparkling
+with excitement. Hastily snatching up a check apron that lay on a chair,
+she fastened it about her, and drew near the fire. It was plain from her
+gesture, as she took the ladle from the old woman's hand, that she
+was angry, and by her manner seemed as if rebuking her. The old crone,
+however, only crouched lower, and spreading out her wasted fingers
+towards the blaze, appeared insensible to everything addressed to
+her. Meanwhile Joan busied herself about the fire with all the zealous
+activity of one accustomed to the task. Mary watched her intently; she
+scrutinized with piercing keenness every lineament of that face, now
+moved by its passing emotions, and she muttered to herself, "Alas, I
+have come in vain!" Nor was this depressing sentiment less felt as Joan,
+turning from the fire, approached a fragment of a broken looking-glass
+that stood against the wall. Drawing herself up to her full height, she
+stood gazing proudly, delightedly, at her own figure. The humble apron,
+too, was speedily discarded, and as she trampled it beneath her feet
+she seemed to spurn the mean condition of which it was the symbol. Mary
+Martin sighed deeply as she looked, and muttered once more, "In vain!"
+
+Then suddenly starting, with one of those bursts of energy which
+so often had steeled her heart against peril, she walked to the
+kitchen-door, raised the latch, and entered. She had made but one step
+within the door when Joan turned and beheld her; and there they both
+stood, silently, each surveying the other. Mary felt too intensely the
+difficulty of the task before her to utter a word without well weighing
+the consequences. She knew how the merest accident might frustrate all
+she had in view, and stood hesitating and uncertain, when Joan, who now
+recognized her, vacillated between her instinctive sense of respect and
+a feeling of defiance in the consciousness of where she was. Happily
+for Mary the former sentiment prevailed, and in a tone of kindly anxiety
+Joan drew near her and said,--"Has anything happened? I trust in God no
+accident has befell you."
+
+"Thank God, nothing worse than a wetting," said Mary,--"some little
+fatigue; and I'll think but little of either if they have brought me
+here to a good end. May I speak with you alone,--quite alone?"
+
+"Come in here," said Joan, pushing open the door of a small room off the
+kitchen which served for a species of larder,--"come in here."
+
+"I have come on a sad errand," said Mary, taking her hand between both
+her own, "and I would that it had fallen to any other than myself. It is
+for you to decide that! have not come in vain."
+
+"What is it? tell me what it is?" cried Joan, as a sudden paleness
+spread over her features.
+
+"These are days of sorrow and mourning everywhere," said Mary, gloomily.
+"Can you not guess what my tidings may be? No, no," cried she, as a
+sudden gesture of Joan interrupted her,--"no, not yet; he is still
+alive, and entreats to see you."
+
+"To curse me again, is it?" cried the other, wildly; "to turn me from
+the door, and pray down curses on me,--is it for that he wants to see
+me?"
+
+"Not for that, indeed," said Mary; "it is to see you--to give you his
+last kiss--his last blessing--to forgive you and be forgiven. Remember
+that he is alone, deserted by all that once were his. Your father and
+mother and sisters are all gone to America, and poor old Mat lingers
+on,--nay, the journey is nigh ended. Oh, do not delay, lest it be too
+late. Come now--now."
+
+"And if I see him once, can I ever come back to this?" cried Joan, in
+bitter agony. "Will I ever be able to hear his words and live as I do
+now?"
+
+[Illustration: 162]
+
+"Let your own good heart guide you for that," cried Mary; "all I ask is
+that you should see him and be with him. I have pledged myself for your
+coming, and you will not dishonor my words to one on his death-bed."
+
+"And I 'll be an outcast for it. Tom will drive me from the door and
+never see me again. I know it,--I know _him_!"
+
+"You are wrong, Joan Landy."
+
+"Joan!--who dares to call me Joan Landy when I'm Mrs. Magennis of
+Barnagheela? and if _I'm_ not _your_ equal, I 'm as good as any other in
+the barony. Was it to insult me you came here to-night, to bring up to
+me who I am and where I came from? That 's the errand that brought you
+through the storm! Ay," cried she, lashed to a wilder passion by her own
+words,--"ay! ay! and if you and yours had their will we 'd not have the
+roof to shelter us this night. It 's only to-day that we won the trial
+against you."
+
+"Whatever my errand here this night," said Mary, with a calm dignity,
+"it was meant to serve and not insult you. I know, as well as your
+bitterest words can tell me, that this is not my place; but I know, too,
+if from yielding to my selfish pride I had refused your old grandfather
+this last request, it had been many a year of bitter reproach to me."
+
+"Oh, you 'll break my heart, you will, you will!" cried Joan, bitterly.
+"You 'll turn the only one that's left against me, and I 'll be alone in
+the world."
+
+"Come with me this night, and whatever happen I 'll befriend you," said
+Mary.
+
+"And not desert me because I 'm what I am?"
+
+"Never, Joan, never!"
+
+"Oh, my blessings on you,--if the blessing of one like me is any good,"
+cried she, kissing Mary's hand fervently. "Oh, they that praised you
+said the truth; you have goodness enough in your heart to make up for us
+all! I 'll go with you to the world's end."
+
+"We'll pass Cro' Martin, and you shall have my horse--"
+
+"No, no, Miss Mary, I 'll go on my feet; it best becomes me. I 'll go by
+Burnane--by the Gap--I know it well--too well!" added she, as the tears
+rushed to her eyes. As she was speaking, she took off the cap she wore
+and threw it from her; and then removing her dress, put on the coarse
+woollen gown of her daily wear. "Oh, God forgive me!" cried she, "if I
+curse the day that I ever wore better than this."
+
+Mary assisted her with her dress, fastening the hood of her cloak over
+her head, and preparing her, as best she might, for the severe storm
+she was to encounter; and it was plain to see that Joan accepted these
+little services without a thought of by whom they were rendered, so
+intensely occupied was her mind by the enterprise before her. A feverish
+haste to be away marked all she did. It was partly terror lest her
+escape might be prevented; partly a sense of distrust in herself, and
+that she might abandon her own resolution.
+
+"Oh, tell me," she cried, as the tears streamed from her eyes, and her
+lips quivered with agony,--"oh, tell me I'm doing right; tell me that
+God's blessing is going with me this night, or I can't do it."
+
+"And so it is, dear Joan," said Mary; "be of good heart, and Heaven will
+support you. I 'm sure the trial is a sore one."
+
+"Oh, is it not to leave this--to leave him--maybe forever? To be sure,
+it's forever," cried she, bitterly. "He 'll never forgive me!"
+
+A wild burst of revelry now resounded from the parlor, and the
+discordant sounds of half-drunken voices burst upon their ears.
+
+Joan started, and gazed wildly around her. The agonized look of her
+features bespoke her dread of detection; and then with a bound she
+sprung madly from the spot, and was away. Mary followed quickly; but
+before she had secured her horse and mounted, the other was already
+half-way down the mountain. Now catching, now losing sight of her again,
+Mary at last came up with her.
+
+"Remember, dear Joan," said Mary, "there are nine weary miles of
+mountain before you."
+
+"I know it well," was the brief reply.
+
+"And if you go by Burnane the rocks are slippy with the rain, and the
+path to the shore is full of danger."
+
+"If I was afeard of danger, would I be here?" cried she. "Oh, Miss
+Mary," added she, stopping and grasping her hand in both her own, "leave
+me to myself; don't come with me,--it's not one like you ought to keep
+me company."
+
+"But Joan,--dear Joan,--I have promised to be your friend, and I am not
+one who forgets a pledge."
+
+"My heart will break; it will break in two if you talk to me. Leave me,
+for the love of Heaven, and let me go my road all alone. There, at the
+two trees there, is the way to Cro' Martin; take it, and may the Saints
+guide you safe home!"
+
+"And if I do, Joan, will you promise me to come straight back to Cro'
+Martin after you 've seen him? Will you do this?"
+
+"I will,--I will," cried she, bathing Mary's hand with her tears as she
+kissed it.
+
+"Then God bless and protect you, poor girl!" said Mary. "It is not for
+me to dictate to your own full heart. Goodbye,--good-bye."
+
+Before Mary had dried the warm tears that rose to her eyes, Joan was
+gone.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIV. THE END OF A BAR MESS
+
+There are few things more puzzling to the uninitiated than the total
+separation lawyers are able to exercise between their private sentiments
+and the emotions they display in the wear and tear of their profession.
+So widely apart are these two characters, that it is actually difficult
+to understand how they ever can unite in one man. But so it is. He can
+pass his morning in the most virulent assaults upon his learned brother,
+ridiculing his law, laughing at his logic, arraigning his motives,--nay,
+sometimes ascribing to him some actually base and wicked. Altercations,
+heightened by all that passion stimulated by wit can produce, ensue.
+Nothing that can taunt, provoke, or irritate, is omitted. Personalities
+even are introduced to swell the acrimony of the contest; and yet,
+when the jury have given in their verdict and the court breaks up, the
+gladiators, who seemed only thirsting for each other's blood, are seen
+laughingly going homeward arm-in-arm, mayhap discoursing over the very
+cause which, but an hour back, seemed to have stamped them enemies for
+the rest of life.
+
+Doubtless there is a great deal to be pleased at in all this, and, we
+ought to rejoice in the admirable temper by which men can discriminate
+between the faithful performance of a duty and the natural course of
+their affections. Still, small-minded folk--of which wide category
+we own ourselves to be a part--may have their misgivings that the
+excellence of this system is not without its alloy, and that even the
+least ingenious of men will ultimately discover how much principle is
+sapped, and how much truthfulness of character is sacrificed in this
+continual struggle between fiction and reality.
+
+The Bar is the nursery of the Senate, and it would not be a very
+fanciful speculation were we to ascribe the laxity of purpose, the
+deficient earnestness, and the insincerity of principle we often deplore
+in our public men, to this same legal training.
+
+The old lawyer, however, finds no difficulty in the double character.
+With his wig and gown he puts on his sarcasm, his insolence, and his
+incredulity. His brief bag opens to him a Pandora's box of noxious
+influences; and as he passes the precincts of the court, he leaves
+behind him all the amenities of life and all the charities of his
+nature. The young barrister does not find the transmutation so easy. He
+gives himself unreservedly to his client, and does not measure his ardor
+by the instructions in his brief. Let us ask pardon of our reader for
+what may seem _a mal � propos_ digression; but we have been led to these
+remarks by the interests of our story.
+
+It was in the large dining-room of the "Martin Arms" at Oughterard, that
+a party of lawyers spent the evening, some of whose events, elsewhere,
+our last chapter has recorded. It was the Bar mess of the Western
+Circuit, and the chair was filled by no less a person than "Father
+Repton." This able "leader" had determined not to visit the West of
+Ireland so long as his friend Martin remained abroad; but a very urgent
+entreaty from Scanlan, and a pressing request for his presence, had
+induced him to waive that resolve, and come down special to Oughterard
+for the Magennis case.
+
+A simple case of ejectment could scarcely have called for that imposing
+array of learned counsel who had repaired to this unfrequented spot;
+so small a skirmish could never have called for the horse, foot, and
+dragoons of law,--the wily conveyancer, the clap-trap orator, the
+browbeater of witnesses, and the light sharpshooter at technicalities;
+and yet there they were all met, and--with all reverence be it
+spoken--very jolly companions they were.
+
+An admirable rule precluded the introduction of, or even an allusion
+to, professional subjects, save when the burden of a joke, whose
+success might excuse the transgression; and thus these crafty, keen
+intelligences argued, disputed, jested, and disported together, in a
+vein which less practised talkers would find it hard to rival. To the
+practice of these social amenities is doubtless ascribable the absence
+of any rancor from the rough contests and collisions of public life, and
+thus men of every shade of politics and party, differing even in class
+and condition, formed admirable social elements, and cohered together to
+perfection.
+
+As the evening wore on, the company insensibly thinned off. Some of the
+hard-workers retired early; a few, whose affectation it was to pretend
+engagements, followed. The "juniors" repaired in different groups to the
+chambers of their friends, where loo and brandy-and-water awaited them;
+and at last Repton was left, with only two others, sole occupants of
+that spacious apartment. His companions were, like himself, soldiers of
+the "Vieille Garde" veterans who remembered Curran and Lawrence Parsons,
+John Toler and Saurin, and a host of others, who only needed that the
+sphere should have been greater to be themselves among the great of the
+nation.
+
+Rawlins was Repton's schoolfellow, and had been his rival at the Bar
+for nigh fifty years. Niel, a few years younger than either, was the
+greatest orator of his time. Both had been opposed to Repton in the
+present suit, and had held heavy retainers for their services.
+
+"Well, Repton," said Rawlins, as soon as they were left thus to
+themselves, "are you pondering over it still? I see that you can't get
+it out of your head."
+
+"It is quite true, I cannot," said Repton. "To summon us all down
+here,--to bring us some fifty miles away from our accustomed beat, for a
+trumpery affair like this, is totally beyond me. Had it been an election
+time, I should probably have understood it."
+
+"How so?" cried Niel, in the shrill piercing voice peculiar to him,
+and which imparted to him, even in society, an air of querulous
+irritability.
+
+"On the principle that Bob Mahon always puts a thoroughbred horse in his
+gig when he drives over to a country race. He's always ready for a match
+with what he jocularly calls 'the old screw I 'm driving this minute;'
+so, Niel, I thought that the retainer for the ejectment might have
+turned out to be a special fee for the election."
+
+"And he 'd have given them a speech, and a rare good one, too, I promise
+you," said Rawlins; "and even if he had not time to speak it, the county
+paper would have had it all printed and corrected from his own hand,
+with all the appropriate interruption of 'vociferous cheering,' and the
+places where the orator was obliged to pause, from the wild tumult of
+acclamation that surrounded him."
+
+"Which all resolves itself into this," screamed Niel,--"that some men's
+after-grass is better than other men's meadows."
+
+"Mine has fallen to the scythe many a day ago," said Rawlins,
+plaintively; "but I remember glorious times and glorious fellows. It
+was, indeed, worth something to say, '_Vixissi cum illis_.'"
+
+"There 's another still better, Rawlins," cried Repton, joyously, "which
+is to have survived them!"
+
+"Very true," cried Niel. "I 'd always plead a demurrer to any notice to
+quit; for, take it all in all, this life has many enjoyments."
+
+"Such as Attorney-Generalships, Masters of the Rolls, and such like,"
+said Repton.
+
+"By the way," said Rawlins, "who put that squib in the papers about your
+having refused the rolls,--eh, Niel?"
+
+"Who but Niel himself?" chimed in Repton. "It was filing a bill of
+discovery. He wanted to know the intentions of the Government."
+
+"I could have had but little doubt of them," broke in Niel. "It was my
+advice, man, cancelled your appointment as Crown Counsel, Repton. I told
+Massingbred, 'If you do keep a watch-dog, let it be, at least, one who
+'ll bite some one beside the family.'"
+
+"He has muzzled you there, Repton," said Rawlins, laughing. "Eh, that
+was a bitter draught!"
+
+"So it was," said Repton. "It was Curran wine run to the lees! and
+very unlike the racy flavor of the true liquor. And to speak in all
+seriousness, what has come over us all to be thus degenerate and fallen?
+It is not alone that we have not the equals of the first-rate men, but
+we really have nothing to compare with O'Grady, and Parsons, and a score
+of others."
+
+"I 'll tell you why," cried Niel,--"the commodity is n't marketable. The
+stupid men, who will always be the majority everywhere, have got up the
+cry, that to be agreeable is to be vulgar. We know how large cravats
+came into fashion; tiresome people came in with high neckcloths."
+
+"I wish they 'd go out with hempen ones, then," muttered Repton.
+
+"I 'd not refuse them the benefit of the clergy," said Niel, with a
+malicious twinkle of the eye, that showed how gladly, when occasion
+offered, he flung a pebble at the Church.
+
+"They were very brilliant,--they were very splendid, I own," said
+Rawlins; "but I have certain misgivings that they gave themselves too
+much to society."
+
+"Expended too much of their powder in fireworks," cried Niel,
+sharply,--"so they did; but their rockets showed how high they could
+rise to."
+
+"Ay, Niel, and we only burn our fingers with ours," said Repton,
+sarcastically.
+
+"Depend upon it," resumed Rawlins, "as the world grows more practical,
+you will have less of great convivial display. Agreeability will cease
+to be the prerogative of first-rate men, but be left to the smart people
+of society, who earn their soup by their sayings."
+
+"He's right," cried Niel, in his shrillest tone. "The age of alchemists
+is gone; the sleight-of-hand man and the juggler have succeeded him."
+
+"And were they not alchemists?" exclaimed old Repton, enthusiastically.
+"Did they not transmute the veriest dross of the earth, and pour
+it forth from the crucible of their minds a stream of liquid
+gold?--glorious fellows, who, in the rich abundance of their minds,
+brought the learning of their early days to illustrate the wisdom of
+their age, and gave the fresh-heartedness of the schoolboy to the ripe
+intelligence of manhood."
+
+"And yet how little have they bequeathed to us!" said Niel.
+
+"Would it were even less," broke in Repton. "We read the witticism
+of brilliant conversera in some diary or journal, often ill recorded,
+imperfectly given, always unaccompanied by the accessories of the scene
+wherein they occurred. We have not the crash, the tumult, the headlong
+flow of social intercourse, where the impromptu fell like a thunderbolt,
+and the bon mots rattled like a fire of musketry. To attempt to convey
+an impression of these great talkers by a memoir, is like to picture a
+battle by reading out a list of the killed and wounded."
+
+"Repton is right!" exclaimed Niel. "The recorded bon mot is the words of
+a song without the music."
+
+"And often where it was the melody that inspired the verses," added
+Repton, always glad to follow up an illustration.
+
+"After all," said Rawlins, "the fashion of the day is changed in other
+respects as well as in conversational excellence. Nothing is like what
+we remember it!--literature, dress, social habits, oratory. There, for
+instance, was that young fellow to-day; his speech to the jury,--a very
+good and sensible one, no doubt,--but how unlike what it would have been
+some five-and-thirty or forty years ago."
+
+"It was first-rate," said Repton, with enthusiasm. "I say it frankly,
+and 'fas est ab hoste,' for he tripped me up in a point of law, and
+I have, therefore, a right to applaud him. To tell you the truth," he
+added slyly, "I knew I was making a revoke, but I thought none of the
+players were shrewd enough to detect me."
+
+"Niel and I are doubtless much complimented by the remark," said
+Rawlins.
+
+"Pooh, pooh!" cried Repton, "what did great guns like you and Niel care
+for such 'small deer.' You were only brought down here as a great _corps
+de r�serve_. It was young Nelligan who fought the battle, and admirably
+he did it. While I was listening to him to-day, I could not help saying
+to myself, 'It's well for us that there were no fellows of this stamp
+in our day.' Ay, Rawlins, you know it well. We were speech-makers; these
+fellows are lawyers."
+
+"Why didn't he dine with us to-day?" asked Niel, sharply.
+
+"Heaven knows. I believe his father lives in the town here; perhaps,
+too, he had no fancy for a dress-parade before such drill-sergeants as
+you and Rawlins there."
+
+"You are acquainted with him, I think?" asked Rawlins.
+
+"Yes, slightly; we met strangely enough, at Cro' Martin last year. He
+was then on a visit there, a quiet, timid youth, who actually seemed to
+feel as though his college successes were embarrassing recollections in
+a society who knew nothing of deans or proctors. There was another young
+fellow also there at the time,--young Massingbred,--with about a tenth
+of this man's knowledge, and a fiftieth of his capacity, who took the
+lead of him on every subject, and by the bare force of an admirable
+manner and a most unabashed impudence, threw poor Nelligan completely
+into the background. It was the same kind of thing I 've often seen Niel
+there perform at the Four Courts, where he has actually picked up his
+law from a worsted opponent, as a highwayman arms himself with the
+pistols of the man he has robbed."
+
+"I never pillaged _you_, Repton," said Niel, with a sarcastic smile.
+"_You_ had always the privilege the poet ascribes to him who laughs
+'before a robber.'"
+
+"Vacuus sed non Inanis," replied Repton, laughing good-humoredly.
+
+"But tell us more of this man, Nelligan," said Rawlins. "I 'm curious to
+hear about him."
+
+"And so you are sure to do some of these days, Rawlins. That fellow is
+the man to attain high eminence."
+
+"His religion will stop him!" cried Niel, sharply; for, being himself
+a Romanist, he was not sorry to have an opportunity of alluding to the
+disqualifying element.
+
+"Say, rather, it will promote him," chimed in Repton. "Take my word for
+it, Niel, there is a spirit of mawkish reparation abroad which affects
+to feel that all your coreligionists have a long arrear due to them, and
+that all the places and emoluments so long withheld from their ancestors
+should be showered down upon the present generation;--pretty much upon
+the same principle that you 'd pension a man now because his grandfather
+had been hanged for rebellion!"
+
+"And very justly, too, if you discovered that what you once called
+rebellion had been very good loyalty!" cried Niel.
+
+"We have not, however, made the discovery you speak of," said Rep ton;
+"we have only commuted a sentence, in the sincere hope that you are
+wiser than your forefathers. But to come back. You may trust me when I
+say that a day is coming when you 'll not only bless yourself because
+you're a Papist, but that you _are_ one! Ay, sir, it is in 'Liffey
+Street Chapel' we 'll seek for an attorney-general, and out of the
+Church of the Conception, if that be the name of it, we 'll cull our law
+advisers of the Crown. For the next five-and-twenty years, at least,"
+said he, solemnly, "the fourth-rate Catholic will be preferred to the
+first-rate Protestant."
+
+"I only hope you may be better at Prophecy than you are in Logic," cried
+Niel, as he tossed off his glass; "and so, I 'm sure, does Nelligan!"
+
+"And Nelligan is exactly the man who will never need the preference,
+sir. His abilities will raise him, even if there were obstacles to
+be surmounted. It is men of a different stamp that the system
+will favor,--fellows without industry for the toils of a laborious
+profession, or talents for the subtleties of a difficult career; men who
+cherish ambition and are yet devoid of capacity, and will plead the old
+disabilities of their faith,--pretty much as a man might claim his right
+to be thought a good dancer because his father had a club foot."
+
+"A most lame conclusion!" cried Niel. "Ah, Rawlins," added he, with much
+compassion, "our poor friend here is breaking terribly. Sad signs there
+are of decay about him. Even his utterance begins to fail him."
+
+"No, no," said Repton, gayly. "I know what you allude to. It is an
+old imperfection of mine not to be able to enunciate the letter _r_
+correctly, and that was the reason today in court that I called you my
+ingenious Bother; but I meant Brother, I assure you."
+
+They all laughed good-humoredly at the old man's sally; in good truth,
+so trained were they to these sort of combats, that they cared little
+for the wounds such warfare inflicted. And although the tilt was ever
+understood as with "reversed lances," none ever cherished an evil memory
+if an unlucky stroke smote too heavily.
+
+"I have asked young Nelligan to breakfast with me tomorrow," said
+Repton; "will you both come and meet him?"
+
+"We 're off at cock-crow!" cried Kiel. "Tell him, however, from me that
+I am delighted with his _d�buts_ and that all the best wishes of my
+friends and myself are with him."
+
+And so they parted.
+
+Repton, however, did not retire to bed at once; his mind was still
+intent upon the subject which had engaged him during the day, and as
+he walked to and fro in his room, he still dwelt upon it. Scanlan's
+instructions had led him to believe that the Martins were in this case
+to have been "put upon their title;" and the formidable array of counsel
+employed by Magennis seemed to favor the impression. Now it was true
+that a trifling informality in the service of the writ had quashed the
+proceedings for the present; but the question remained, "Was the great
+struggle only reserved for a future day?"
+
+It was clear that a man embarrassed as was Magennis could never have
+retained that strong bar of eminent lawyers. From what fund, then, came
+these resources? Was there a combination at work? And if so, to what
+end, and with what object?
+
+The crafty old lawyer pondered long and patiently over these things.
+His feelings might not inaptly be compared to those of a commandant of
+a garrison, who sees his stronghold menaced by an enemy he had never
+suspected. Confident as he is in the resources of his position, he yet
+cannot resist the impression that the very threat of attack has been
+prompted by some weakness of which he is unaware.
+
+"To put us on our title," said he, "implies a great war. Let us try and
+find out who and what are they who presume to declare it!"
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XV. A FIRST BRIEF
+
+The reader has been already told that Joe Nelligan had achieved a great
+success in his first case. A disputed point of law had been raised,
+in itself insignificant, but involving in its train a vast variety
+of momentous interests. Repton, with an ingenuity all his own, had
+contrived to draw the discussion beyond its original limits, that he
+might entangle and embarrass the ambitious junior who had dared to
+confute him. Nelligan accepted the challenge at once, and after a stormy
+discussion of some hours came out the victor. For a while his timid
+manner, and an overpowering sense of the great odds against him, seemed
+to weigh oppressively on him. The very successes he had won elsewhere
+were really so many disparagements to him now, giving promise, as it
+were, of his ability. But, despite all these disadvantages, he entered
+the lists manfully and courageously.
+
+What a many-sided virtue is this same courage, and how prone is the
+world to award its praises unequally for it! We are enthusiastic for the
+gallant soldier the earliest in the breach, or the glorious sailor who
+first jumps upon the enemy's quarter-deck, and yet we never dream of
+investing with heroism him who dares to combat with the most powerful
+intellects of debate, or enters the field of argument against minds
+stored with vast resources of knowledge, and practised in all the
+subtleties of disputation.
+
+It is time, existence is not in the issue; but are there not things a
+thousand times dearer than life at peril? Think of him who has gone on
+from success to success; whose school triumphs have but heralded the
+riper glories of college life; who, rising with each new victory,
+is hailed by that dearest and best of all testimonies,--the prideful
+enthusiasm of his own age. Fancy him, the victor in every struggle,
+who has carried all before him,--the vaunted chief of his
+contemporaries,--fancy him beaten and worsted on his first real field of
+action. Imagine such a man, with all the prestige of his college fame,
+rudely encountered and overcome in the contest of public life, and say
+if any death ever equalled the suffering!
+
+Happily, our task has not to record any such failure in the present
+case. Young Nelligan sat down amidst the buzzing sound of approving
+voices, and received a warm eulogy from the Court on the promise of so
+conspicuous an opening. And a proud man was Dan Nelligan on that day!
+At any other time how deeply honored had he felt by the distinguished
+notice of the great dignitaries who now congratulated him on his son's
+success! With what pride had he accepted the polite recognition of Chief
+Barons and silk-gowned "leaders"! Now, however, his heart had but room
+for one thought,--Joe himself,--his own boy,--the little child as it
+were of yesterday, now a man of mark and note, already stamped with the
+impress of success in what, to every Irishman's heart at least, is the
+first of all professions. The High Sheriff shook old Nelligan's hand in
+open court, and said, "It is an honor to our county, Nelligan, to
+claim him." The Judge sent a message that he wished to see him in his
+robing-room, and spoke his warm praises of the "admirable speech, as
+remarkable for its legal soundness as for its eloquence;" and Repton
+overtook him in the street, and, catching his hand, said, "Be proud of
+him, sir, for we are all proud of him."
+
+Mayhap the hope is not a too ambitious one, that some one of those who
+may glance over these humble lines may himself have once stood in the
+position of Joe Nelligan, in so far as regards the hour of his triumph,
+and have felt in his heart the ecstasy of covering with his fame the
+"dear head" of a father.
+
+If so, I ask him boldly,--whatever may have been the high rewards of
+his later fire, whatever honors may have been showered upon him, however
+great his career, and however brilliant its recognitions,--has he ever,
+in his proudest moments, tasted such a glorious thrill of delight as
+when he has fallen into his father's arms overcome by the happiness that
+he has made that father proud of him? Oh, ye who have experienced this
+thrill of joy within you, cherish and preserve it. The most glowing
+eulogies of eloquence, the most ornate paragraphs of a flattering press,
+are sorry things in comparison to it. For ourselves, we had rather have
+been Joe Nelligan when, with his father's warm tears dimming his eyes,
+he said, "God bless you, my boy!" than have gained all the honors that
+even talents like his can command!
+
+He could not bear to absent himself from home that day; and although his
+father would gladly have celebrated his triumph by gathering his friends
+about him, Joe entreated that they might be alone. And they were so. The
+great excitement of the day over, a sense of weariness, almost sadness,
+stole over the young man; and while his father continued to relate for
+his mother's hearing various little incidents of the trial, he listened
+with a half-apathetic dreaminess, as though the theme oppressed him. The
+old man dwelt with delight on the flattering attention bestowed by the
+Court on Joseph's address, the signs of concurrence vouchsafed from time
+to time by the Bench, the approving murmur of the Bar while he spoke,
+and then the honest outburst of enthusiasm that shook the very walls as
+he concluded. "I tried," continued Dan Nelligan,--"I tried to force my
+way through the crowd, and come and tell you that he had gained the day,
+but I couldn't; they were all around me, shaking my hands, patting me on
+the shoulders, and saying, as if I did n't know it in my own heart, 'He
+'ll make you a proud man yet, Mr. Nelligan.'"
+
+"I heard it all, five minutes after it was over," said Mrs. Nelligan;
+"and you 'd never guess who told me."
+
+"Counsellor Walsh," cried Nelligan.
+
+"No, indeed; I never seen him."
+
+"It was Hosey Lynch, then, for I saw him running like mad through the
+town, spreading the news everywhere."
+
+"It was not Hosey," said she, half contemptuously. "I wish, Joe, you'd
+give a guess yourself who told me."
+
+"Guess, mother,--guess who told you what?" said he, suddenly starting
+from some deep meditation.
+
+
+"Who told me that you won the cause, and beat all the great counsellors
+from Dublin."
+
+"I'm sure, mother, it would be hard for me to say," said Joseph, smiling
+faintly; "some of our kind townsfolk, perhaps. Father Neal, old Peter
+Hayes, or--"
+
+"I'll just tell you at once," broke she in, half irritated at the
+suggested source of her information. "It was Miss Mary herself, and no
+other."
+
+"Miss Martin!" exclaimed old Nelligan.
+
+"Miss Mary Martin!" echoed Joe; while a sickly paleness crept over his
+features, and his lips trembled as he spoke.
+
+"How came you to see her? Where was she?" asked Nelligan, eagerly.
+
+"I 'll tell you," replied she, with all the methodical preparation by
+which she heralded in the least important communications,--"I 'll tell
+you. I was sitting here, working at the window, and wondering when the
+trial would be over, for the goose that was for dinner was too near the
+fire, and I said to myself--"
+
+"Never mind what you said to yourself,--confound the goose," broke in
+old Dan, fiercely.
+
+"Faith, then, I 'd like to know if you 'd be pleased to eat your dinner
+on the cold loin of veal--"
+
+"But Miss Martin, mother,--Miss Martin," urged Joe, impatiently.
+
+"I'm coming to her, if you'll let me; but when you flurry me and
+frighten me, I 'm ready to faint. It was last Candlemas you gave me a
+start, Dan, about--what was it, now? Lucky Mason's dog, I believe. No,
+it was the chimney took fire--"
+
+"Will you just go back to Miss Martin, if you please," said old
+Nelligan, sternly.
+
+"I wish I knew where I was,--what I was saying last," said she, in a
+tone of deep sorrow and contrition.
+
+"You were going to say how Miss Mary told you all about the trial,
+mother," said Joe, taking her hand kindly within his own.
+
+"Yes, darling; now I remember it all. I was sitting here at the window
+hemming them handkerchiefs of yours, and I heard a sharp sound of a
+horse coming along quick, and, by the way he cantered, I said to myself,
+'I know _you_,' and, sure enough, when I opened the window, there she
+was, Miss Mary herself, all dripping with wet, and her hat flattened on
+her face, at the door.
+
+"'Don't ask me to get down, Mrs. Nelligan,' said she, 'for I'm in a
+great hurry. I have to ride out to Kilkieran with this'--and she showed
+me a bottle she had in the pocket of her saddle. 'I only called to tell
+you that your son has gained another--' What was it she called it?--a
+victory, or a battle,--no, it was something else--"
+
+"Never mind--go on," cried Joe; "and then?"
+
+"'But, my dear Miss Mary,' says I, 'you 're wet through and through.
+It's more than your life's worth to go off now another ten miles. I'll
+send our gossoon, Mickey Slater, with the medicine, if you 'll just come
+in and stay with us.' I did n't say to dinner, for I was ashamed to ask
+her to that.
+
+"'I should be delighted, Mrs. Nelligan,' said she, 'but it is impossible
+to-day. I 'd have stayed and asked you for my dinner,'--her very
+words,--'asked you for my dinner, but I have promised poor Mat Landy to
+go back to him. But perhaps it is as well as it is; and my aunt Dorothy
+might say, if she heard of it, that it was a strange choice I had made
+of a festive occasion,--the day on which we were beaten, and the society
+of him that worsted us.'
+
+"'Oh, but, Miss Mary,' says I, 'sure you don't think the worse of poor
+Joe--'
+
+"'I never thought more highly of him, my dear Mrs. Nelligan,' said
+she, 'than at this moment; and, whatever others may say or think, I'll
+maintain my opinion, that he is a credit to us all. Good-bye! good-bye!'
+and then she turned short round, and said, 'I can't answer for how
+my uncle may feel about what has occurred to-day, but you know _my_
+sentiments. Farewell!' And with that she was off; indeed, before I had
+time to shut down the window, she was out of sight and away."
+
+"She ought to know, and she will know, that Joe never said one hard
+thing of her family. And though he had in his brief enough to tempt him
+to bring the Martins up for judgment, not a word, not a syllable did he
+utter." This old Nelligan spoke with a proud consciousness of his son's
+honorable conduct.
+
+"Good heavens!" exclaimed Joe, "is it not enough that a man sells his
+intellect, pawns his capacity, and makes traffic of his brains, without
+being called on to market his very nature, and set up his very emotions
+for sale? If my calling demands this at my hands, I have done with
+it,--I renounce it."
+
+"But I said you refrained, Joe. I remarked that you would not suffer the
+heat of discussion to draw you into an angry attack--"
+
+"And you praise me for it!" broke in Joe, passionately. "You deem it an
+occasion to compliment me, that, in defending the cause of a worthless
+debauchee, I did not seize with avidity the happy moment to assail
+an honorable gentleman; and not alone you, but a dozen others,
+congratulated me on this reserve,--this constraint,--as though the
+lawyer were but a bravo, and, his stiletto once paid for, he must
+produce the body of his victim. I regard my profession in another and
+a higher light; but if even its practice were the noblest that could
+engage human faculties, and its rewards the highest that could crown
+them, I'd quit it tomorrow, were its price to be the sacrifice of an
+honorable self-esteem and the regard of--of those we care for." And in
+the difficult utterance of the last words his cheek became crimson, and
+his lip trembled.
+
+"I 'll tell you what you 'll do, Joe," said his mother, whose kindness
+was not invariably distinguished by tact,--"just come over with _me_
+to-morrow to Cro' Martin. I 'm going to get slips of the oak-leaf
+geranium and the dwarf rose, and we 'll just go together in a friendly
+way, and when we 're there you 'll have some opportunity or other to
+tell Miss Mary that it wasn't your fault for being against them."
+
+"He 'll do no such thing," broke in Nelligan, fiercely. "Miss Mary
+Martin wants no apologies,--her family have no right to any. Joe is a
+member of a high and powerful profession. If he does n't fill as great a
+place now, who knows where he 'll not be this day fifteen years, eh, my
+boy? Maybe I 'll not be here to see,--indeed, it's more than likely I
+'ll not,--but I know it now. I feel as sure of it as I do that my name
+'s Dan."
+
+"And if you are not to see it, father," said Joe, as he pressed his
+father's hand between both his own,--"you and my dearest mother,--the
+prize will be nigh valueless. If I cannot, when my reward is won, come
+home,--to such a home as this,--the victory will be too late." And so
+saying he rose abruptly, and hurried from the room. The moment after he
+had locked his door, and, flinging himself upon his bed, buried his face
+between his hands.
+
+With all the proud sensations of having achieved a great success, his
+heart was heavily oppressed. It seemed to him as though Destiny had
+decreed that his duty should ever place him in antagonism to his
+affections. Up to a short period before this trial came on he had
+frequently been in Miss Martin's company. Now, it was some trifling
+message for his mother; now, some book he had himself promised to
+fetch her; then visits to the sick--and Joe, latterly, had taken a most
+benevolent turn--had constantly brought them together; and often, when
+Mary was on foot, Joe had accompanied her to the gates of the demesne.
+In these meetings one subject usually occupied them,--the sad condition
+of the country, the destitution of the poor,--and on this theme their
+sympathies and hopes and fears all agreed. It was not only that they
+concurred in their views of the national character, but that they
+attributed its traits of good or evil to the very same causes; and while
+Nelligan was amazed at finding the daughter of a proud house deeply
+conversant with the daily life of the humblest peasant, she, too,
+was astonished how sincere in his respect for rank, how loyal in
+his devotion to the claims of blood, was one whose birth might have
+proclaimed him a democrat and a destroyer.
+
+These daily discussions led them closer and closer to each other, till
+at length confidences grew up between them, and Mary owned to many of
+the difficulties that her lone and solitary station exposed her to.
+Many things were done on the property without--some in direct opposition
+to--her concurrence. As she once said herself, "We are so ready to
+satisfy our consciences by assuming that whatever we may do legally
+we have a right to do morally, and at the same time, in the actual
+condition of Ireland, what is just may be practically the very heaviest
+of all hardships." This observation was made with reference to some law
+proceedings of Scanlan's instituting, and the day after she chanced to
+make it Joe started for Dublin. It was there that Magennis's attorney
+had sent him the brief in that cause,--a charge which the etiquette of
+his profession precluded his declining.
+
+In what way he discharged the trust we have seen,--what sorrow it cost
+him is more than we can describe. "Miss Martin," thought he, "would know
+nothing of the rules which prescribe our practice, and will look upon my
+conduct here as a treason. For weeks long she has conversed with me in
+candor over the state of the county and its people; we separate for a
+few days, and she finds me arrayed with others against the interests of
+her family, and actually paid to employ against her the very knowledge
+she has imparted to me! What a career have I chosen," cried he, in his
+agony, "if every success is to be purchased at such a price!" With such
+men as Magennis he had nothing in common; their society, their habits,
+their opinions were all distasteful to him, and yet it was for him and
+his he was to sacrifice the dearest hope of his heart,--to lose the good
+esteem of one whose praise he had accounted more costly than the highest
+distinction a sovereign could bestow on him. "And what a false position
+mine!" cried he again. "Associated by the very closest ties with a party
+not one of whose objects have my sympathies, I see myself separated by
+blood, birth, and station from all that I venerate and respect. I must
+either be a traitor to my own or to myself; declare my enmity to all I
+think most highly of, or suffer my motives to be impugned and my fame
+tarnished."
+
+There was, indeed, one circumstance in this transaction which displeased
+him greatly, and of which he was only aware when too late. The Magennis
+defence had been "got up" by a subscription,--a fund to which Joseph's
+own father had contributed. Amongst the machinery of attack upon the
+landed gentry, Father Neal Rafferty had suggested the expediency
+of "putting them on their titles" in cases the most trivial and
+insignificant. Forfeiture and confiscation had followed each other so
+frequently in Irish history,--grants and revocations were so mixed
+up together,--some attested in all formality, others irregular and
+imperfect,--that it was currently believed there was scarcely one single
+estate of the whole province could establish a clear and indisputable
+title. The project was, therefore, a bold one which, while disturbing
+the rights of property, should also bring under discussion so many vexed
+questions of English rule and tyranny over the Irish. Libraries and
+cabinets were ransacked for ancient maps of the counties; and old
+records were consulted to ascertain how far the original conditions of
+service, and so forth, had been complied with on which these estates
+were held.
+
+Joseph had frequently carried home books from the library of Cro'
+Martin, rare and curious volumes, which bore upon the ancient history of
+the country. And now there crossed him the horrible suspicion that the
+whole scheme of this attack might be laid to his charge, the information
+to substantiate which he had thus surreptitiously-obtained. It was clear
+enough, from what his mother had said, that such was not Miss Martin's
+present impression; but who could say what representations might be made
+to her, and what change effected in her sentiments? "And this," cried
+he, in indignation--"and this is the great career I used to long
+for!--this the broad highway I once fancied was to lead me to honor
+and distinction! Or is it, after all, my own fault, for endeavoring
+to reconcile two-things which never can have any agreement,--an humble
+origin and high aspirings? Were I an Englishman, the difficulty would
+not be impassable; but here, in Ireland, the brand of a lowly fortune
+and a despised race is upon me. Can I--dare I resist it?"
+
+A long and arduous conflict was that in which he passed the night,--now
+inclining to abandon his profession forever, now to leave Ireland
+and join the English or some Colonial Bar; and at length, as day was
+breaking, and as though the fresh morning air which now blew upon him
+from his open window had given fresh energy to his nature, he determined
+he would persist in his career in his own country. "_My_ fate shall be
+an example or a warning!" cried he. "They who come after me shall know
+whether there be rewards within reach of honest toil and steady industry
+without the contamination of a mock patriotism! If I _do_ rise, it shall
+be from no aid derived from a party or a faction; and if I fail, I bring
+no discredit upon 'my order.'"
+
+There are men who can so discipline their minds that they have but to
+establish a law to their actions to make their whole lives "a system."
+Such individuals the Germans not inaptly call "self-contained men," and
+of these was Joe Nelligan one.
+
+A certain concentration of his faculties, and the fatigues of a whole
+night passed thus in thought, gave a careworn, exhausted look to his
+features as he entered the room where Repton sat awaiting him for
+breakfast.
+
+"I see what's the matter with you," said the old lawyer, as he entered.
+"You have passed the night after a 'first brief.' This day ten years
+you'll speak five hours before the Lords 'in error,' and never lose a
+wink of sleep after it's over!"
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVI. MR. REPTON LOOKS IN
+
+On the day after that some of whose events we have just recorded, and
+towards nightfall, Mary Martin slowly drove along the darkly wooded
+avenue of Cro' Martin. An unusual sadness overweighed her. She was just
+returning from the funeral of poor old Mat Landy, one of her oldest
+favorites as a child. He it was who first taught her to hold an oar;
+and, seated beside him, she first learned to steer a "corragh" through
+the wild waves of the Atlantic. His honest, simple nature, his fine
+manly contentedness with a very humble lot, and a cheerful gayety of
+heart that seemed never to desert him, were all traits likely to impress
+such a child as she had been and make his companionship a pleasure. With
+a heavy heart was it, therefore, now that she thought over these things,
+muttering to herself as she went along snatches of the old songs he used
+to sing, and repeating mournfully the little simple proverbs he would
+utter about the weather.
+
+The last scene itself had been singularly mournful. Two fishermen of the
+coast alone accompanied the car which bore the coffin; death or sickness
+was in every house; few could be spared to minister to the dead, and
+even of those, the pale shrunk features and tottering limbs bespoke how
+dearly the duty cost them. Old Mat had chosen for his last resting-place
+a little churchyard that crowned a cliff over the sea,--a wild, solitary
+spot,--an old gable, a ruined wall, a few low gravestones, and no more.
+The cliff itself, rising abruptly from the sea to some four hundred
+feet, was perforated with the nests of sea-fowl, whose melancholy cries,
+as they circled overhead, seemed to ring out a last requiem. There it
+was they now laid him. Many a time from that bleak summit had he lighted
+a beacon fire to ships in distress.
+
+Often and often, from that same spot, had he gazed out over the sea,
+to catch signs of those who needed succor, and now that bold heart was
+still and that strong arm stiffened, and the rough, deep voice that used
+to sound above the tempest, silent forever.
+
+[Illustration: 188]
+
+"Never mind, Patsey," said Mary, to one of the fishermen, who was
+endeavoring with some stray fragments of a wreck to raise a little
+monument over the spot, "I'll look to that hereafter." And so saying,
+she turned mournfully away to descend the cliff. A stranger, wrapped in
+a large boat-cloak, had been standing for some time near the place; and
+as Mary left it, he drew nigh and asked who she was.
+
+"Who would she be?" said the fisherman, gruffly, and evidently in no
+humor to converse.
+
+"A wife, or a daughter, perhaps?" asked the other again.
+
+"Neither one nor the other," replied the fisherman.
+
+"It is Miss Mary, sir,--Miss Martin,--God bless her!" broke in the
+other; "one that never deserts the poor, living or dead. Musha! but
+she's what keeps despair out of many a heart!"
+
+"And has she come all this way alone?" asked he.
+
+"What other way could she come, I wonder?" said the man he had first
+addressed. "Did n't they leave her there by herself, just as if she was
+n't belonging to them? They were kinder to old Henderson's daughter than
+to their own flesh and blood."
+
+"Hush, Jerry, hush!--she 'll hear you," cried the other. And saluting
+the stranger respectfully, he began to follow down the cliff.
+
+"Are there strangers stopping at the inn?" asked Mary, as she saw lights
+gleaming from some of the windows as she passed.
+
+"Yes, miss, there's him that was up there at the churchyard--ye didn't
+remark him, maybe--and one or two more."
+
+"I did not notice him," said Mary; and, wishing the men good-night, set
+out homeward. So frequent were the halts she made at different cabins as
+she drove along, so many times was she stopped to give a word of advice
+or counsel, that it was already duskish as she reached Cro' Martin,
+and found herself once more near home. "You're late with the post this
+evening, Billy," said she, overtaking the little fellow who carried the
+mail from Oughterard.
+
+"Yes, miss, there was great work sortin' the letters that came in this
+morning, for I believe there's going to be another election; at least I
+heard Hosey Lynch say it was all about that made the bag so full."
+
+"I 'm sorry for it, Billy," said she. "We have enough to think of,
+ay, and troubles enough, too, not to need the strife and bitterness of
+another contest amongst us."
+
+"Thrue for ye, miss, indeed," rejoined Billy. '"Tis wishing them far
+enough I am, them same elections; the bag does be a stone heavier every
+day till it's over."
+
+"Indeed!" said Mary, half smiling at the remark.
+
+"Thrue as I 'm here, miss. I would n't wonder if it was the goold for
+bribin' the chaps makes it weigh so much."
+
+"And is there any other news stirring in the town, Billy?"
+
+"Next to none, miss. They were talkin' of putting up ould Nelligan's son
+for the mimber; and more says the Magennis of Barnagheela will stand."
+
+"A most excellent choice that would be, certainly," said Mary, laughing.
+
+"Faix! I heerd of another that wasn't much better, miss."
+
+"And who could that be?" asked Mary, in astonishment.
+
+"But sure you'd know better than me, if it was thrue, more by token it
+would be the master's own orders."
+
+"I don't understand you, Billy."
+
+"I mean, miss, that it's only his Honer, Mr. Martin, could have the
+power to make Maurice Scanlan a Parlimint man."
+
+"And has any one hinted at such a possibility?" said she, in
+astonishment.
+
+"Indeed, then, it was the talk of the market this mornin', and many a
+one said he's the very fellow would get in."
+
+"Is he such a general favorite in Oughterard?"
+
+"I'm not sure it's that, miss," said Billy, thoughtfully.
+
+"Maybe some likes him, and more is afraid of him; but he himself knows
+everybody and everybody's business. He can raise the rent upon this man,
+take it off that; 'tis his word can make a barony-constable or one of
+the watch. They say he has the taxes, too, in his power, and can cess
+you just as he likes. Be my conscience, he 's all as one as the Prime
+Minister."
+
+Just as Billy had delivered this sage reflection they had reached the
+hall door, where, having consigned the letter-bag to the hands of a
+servant, he turned his steps to the kitchen, to take an "air of the
+fire" before he set out homeward. Mary Martin had not advanced many
+steps within the hall when both her hands were cordially grasped, and a
+kind voice, which she at once recognized as Mr. Repton's, said, "Here
+I am, my dear Miss Martin; arrived in time, too, to welcome you home
+again. You paid me a visit yesterday--"
+
+"Yes," broke she in; "but you were shaking your ambrosial curls at the
+time, browbeating the bench, or cajoling the jury, or something of that
+sort."
+
+"That I was; but I must own with scant success. You 've heard how that
+young David of Oughterard slew the old Goliath of Dublin? Well, shall
+I confess it? I'm glad of it. I feel proud to think that the crop of
+clever fellows in Ireland is flourishing, and that when I, and a dozen
+like me, pass away, our places will be filled by others that will keep
+the repute of our great profession high in the public estimation."
+
+"This is worthy of you, sir," cried Mary, pressing the arm ahe leaned on
+more closely.
+
+"And now, my dear Miss Mary," said he, as they entered the
+drawing-room,--"now that I have light to look at you, let me make
+my compliments on your appearance. Handsomer than ever, I positively
+declare. They told me in the town that you half killed yourself with
+fatigue; that you frequently were days long on horseback, and nights
+watching by sick-beds; but if this be the result, benevolence is indeed
+its own reward."
+
+"Ah, my dear Mr. Repton, I see you do not keep all your flatteries for
+the jury-box."
+
+"My moments are too limited here to allow me time for an untruth. I
+must be off; to-night I have a special retainer for a great record at
+Roscommon, and at this very instant I should be poring over deeds
+and parchments, instead of gazing at 'orbs divinely blue;' not but, I
+believe, now that I look closer, yours are hazel."
+
+"Let me order dinner, then, at once," said she, approaching the bell.
+
+"I have done that already, my dear," said he, gayly; "and what is more,
+I have dictated the bill of fare. I guessed what a young lady's simple
+meal might be, and I have been down to the cook, and you shall see the
+result."
+
+"Then it only remains for me to think of the cellar. What shall it be,
+sir? The Burgundy that you praised so highly last winter, or the Port
+that my uncle preferred to it?"
+
+"I declare that I half suspect your uncle was right. Let us move for a
+new trial, and try both over again," said he, laughing, as she left the
+room.
+
+"Just to think of such a girl in such a spot," cried he to himself, as
+he walked alone, up and down the room; "beauty, grace, fascination,--all
+that can charm and attract; and then, such a nature, childlike in
+gayety, and chivalrous,--ay, chivalrous as a chevalier!"
+
+"I see, sir, you are rehearsing for Roscommon," said Mary, who entered
+the room while he was yet declaiming alone; "but I must interrupt you,
+for the soup is waiting."
+
+"I obey the summons," said he tendering his arm. And they both entered
+the dinner-room.
+
+So long as the meal lasted, Repton's conversation was entirely devoted
+to such topics as he might have discussed at a formal dinner-party. He
+talked of the world of society, its deaths, births, and marriages; its
+changes of place and amusement. He narrated the latest smart things that
+were going the round of the clubs, and hinted at the political events
+that were passing. But the servants gone, and the chairs drawn closer
+to the blazing hearth, his tone changed at once, and in a voice of
+tremulous kindness he said,--"I can't bear to think of the solitude of
+this life of yours!--nay, hear me out. I say this, not for _you_, since
+in the high devotion of a noble purpose you are above all its penalties;
+but I cannot endure to think that _we_ should permit it."
+
+"First of all," said Mary, rapidly, "what you deem solitude is scarcely
+such; each day is so filled with its duties, that when I come back here
+of an evening, it often happens that my greatest enjoyment is the very
+sense of isolation that awaits me. Do you know," added she, "that
+very often the letter-bag lies unopened by me till morning? And as to
+newspapers, there they lie in heaps, their covers unbroken to this hour.
+Such is actually the case to-day. I haven't read my letters yet."
+
+"I read mine in my bed," cried Repton. "I have them brought to me by
+candlelight in winter, and I reflect over all the answers while I am
+dressing. Some of the sharpest things I have ever said have occurred to
+me while I was shaving; not," added he, hastily, "but one's really
+best things are always impromptu. Just as I said t' other day to the
+Viceroy,--a somewhat felicitous one. He was wishing that some historian
+would choose for his subject the lives of Irish Lord-Lieutenants;
+not, he remarked, in a mere spirit of party, or with the levity of
+partisanship, but in a spirit becoming the dignity of history,--such
+as Hume himself might have done. 'Yes, my Lord,' I replied, 'your
+observation is most just; it should be a continuation of Rapine.' Eh! it
+was a home-thrust, wasn't it?--'a continuation of Rapine.'" And the old
+man laughed till his eyes ran over.
+
+"Do these great folk ever thoroughly forgive such things?" asked Mary.
+
+"My dear child, their self-esteem is so powerful they never feel them;
+and even when they do, the chances are that they store them up in their
+memories, to retail afterwards as their own. I have detected my own
+stolen property more than once; but always so damaged by wear, and
+disfigured by ill-usage, that I never thought of reclaiming it."
+
+"The affluent need never fret for a little robbery," said Mary, smiling.
+
+"Ay, but they may like to be the dispensers of their own riches,"
+rejoined Repton, who never was happier than when able to carry out
+another's illustration.
+
+"Is Lord Reckington agreeable?" asked Mary, trying to lead him on to any
+other theme than that of herself.
+
+"He is eminently so. Like all men of his class, he makes more of a small
+stock in trade than we with our heads full can ever pretend to. Such men
+talk well, for they think fluently. Their tact teaches them the popular
+tone on every subject, and they have the good sense never to rise above
+it."
+
+"And Massingbred, the secretary, what of him?"
+
+"A very well-bred gentleman, strongly cased in the triple armor of
+official dulness. Such men converse as stupid whist-players play
+cards; they are always asking to 'let them see the last trick;' and the
+consequence is they are ever half an hour behind the rest of the world.
+Ay, Miss Mary, and this is an age where one must never be half a second
+in arrear. This is really delicious Port; and now that the Burgundy is
+finished, I think I prefer it. Tell Martin I said so when you write to
+him. I hope the cellar is well stocked with it."
+
+"It was so when my uncle went away, but I fear I have made great inroads
+upon it. It was my chief remedy with the poor."
+
+"With the poor! such wine as this,--the richest grape that ever purpled
+over the Douro! Do you tell me that you gave this to these--Heaven
+forgive me, what am I saying? Of course you gave it; you gave them
+what was fifty times more precious,--the kind ministerings of your own
+angelic nature, the soft words and soft looks and smiles that a prince
+might have knelt for. I 'm not worthy to drink another glass of it,"
+added he, as he pushed the decanter from him towards the centre of the
+table.
+
+"But you shall, though," said Mary, filling his glass, "and it shall be
+a bumper to my health."
+
+"A toast I'd stake my life for," said he, reverently, as he lifted her
+hand to his lips and kissed it with all the deference of a courtier.
+"And now," added he, refilling his glass, "I drink this to the worthy
+fellow whose portrait is before me; and may he soon come back again."
+He arose as he spoke, and giving his hand to Mary, led her into the
+drawing-room. "Ay, my dear Miss Mary," said he, following up the theme
+in his own thoughts, "it is here your uncle ought to be. When the army
+is in rout and dismay, the general's presence is the talisman that
+restores discipline. Everything around us at this moment is full of
+threatening danger. The catalogue of the assizes is a dark record; I
+never saw its equal, no more have I ever witnessed anything to compare
+with the dogged indifference of the men arraigned. The Irishman is half
+a fatalist by nature; it will be an evil hour that makes him wholly
+one!"
+
+"But still," said Mary, "you 'd scarcely counsel his return here at this
+time. The changes that have taken place would fret him deeply, not to
+speak of even worse!"
+
+She delivered the last few words in a voice broken and trembling; and
+Repton, turning quickly towards her, said,--"I know what you point at:
+the irritated feeling of the people, and that insolent menace they dared
+to affix to his own door."
+
+"You heard of that, then?" cried she, eagerly.
+
+"To be sure, I heard of it; and I heard how your own hands tore it down,
+and riding with it into the midst of them at Kiltimmon market, you said,
+'I 'll give five hundred pounds to him who shows me who did this, and I
+'ll forfeit five hundred more if I do not horsewhip the coward from the
+county.'"
+
+Mary hid her face within her hands; but closely as she pressed them
+there, the warm tears would force their way through, and fall, dropping
+on her bosom.
+
+"You are a noble girl," cried he, in ecstasy; "and in all your
+great trials there is nothing finer than this, that the work of your
+benevolence has never been stayed by the sense of ill-requital, and you
+have never involved the character of a people in the foul crime of a
+miscreant."
+
+"How could I so wrong them, sir?" broke she out. "Who better than myself
+can speak of their glorious courage, their patient resignation, their
+noble self-devotion? Has not the man, sinking under fever, crawled
+from his bed to lead me to the house of another deeper in misery than
+himself? Have I not seen the very poorest sharing the little alms
+bestowed upon their wretchedness? Have I not heard the most touching
+words of gratitude from lips growing cold in death? You may easily
+show me lands of greater comfort, where the blessings of wealth and
+civilization are more widely spread; but I defy you to point to any
+where the trials of a whole people have been so great and so splendidly
+sustained."
+
+"I'll not ask the privilege of reply," said Repton; "perhaps I 'd rather
+be convinced by you than attempt to gainsay one word of your argument."
+
+"At your peril, sir," said she, menacing him with her finger, while a
+bright smile lit up her features.
+
+"The chaise is at the door, sir," said a servant, entering and
+addressing Repton.
+
+"Already!" exclaimed he. "Why, my dear Miss Mary, it can't surely be
+eight o'clock. No; but," added he, looking at his watch, "it only wants
+a quarter of ten, and I have not said one half of what I had to say, nor
+heard a fourth of what you had to tell me."
+
+"Let the postboy put up his horses, William," said Miss Martin, "and
+bring tea."
+
+"A most excellent suggestion," chimed in Repton. "Do you know, my dear,
+that we old bachelors never thoroughly appreciate all that we have
+missed in domesticity till we approach a tea-table. We surround
+ourselves with fifty mockeries of home-life; we can manage soft carpets,
+warm curtains, snug dinners, but somehow our cup of tea is a rude
+imitation that only depicts the inaccuracy of the copy. Without the
+priestess the tea-urn sings forth no incantation."
+
+"How came it that Mr. Repton remained a Benedict?" asked she, gayly.
+
+"By the old accident, that he would n't take what he might have, and
+could n't get what he wished. Add to that," continued he, after a pause,
+"when a man comes to a certain time of life without marrying, the world
+has given to him a certain place, assigned to him, as it were, a certain
+part which would be utterly marred by a wife. The familiarity of one's
+female acquaintance--the pleasantest spot in old bachelorhood--could n't
+stand such an ordeal; and the hundred-and-one eccentricities pardonable
+and pardoned in the single man would be condemned in the married one.
+You shake your head. Well, now, I 'll put it to the test. Would you, or
+could you, make me your confidant so unreservedly if there were such a
+person as Mrs. Repton in the world? Not a bit of it, my dear child. We
+old bachelors are the lay priests of society, and many come to us with
+confessions they 'd scruple about making to the regular authorities."
+
+"Perhaps you are right," said she, thoughtfully; "at all events, _I_
+should have no objection to you as my confessor."
+
+"I may have to claim that promise one of these day yet," said he,
+significantly. "Eh, here comes William again. Well, the postboy won't
+wait, or something has gone wrong. Eh, William, what is it?"
+
+"The boy's afraid, sir, if you don't go soon, that there will be no
+passing the river at Barnagheela,--the flood is rising every minute."
+
+"And already the water is too deep," cried Mary. "Give the lad his
+supper, William. Let him make up his cattle, and say that Mr. Repton
+remains here for the night."
+
+"And Mr. Repton obeys," said he, bowing; "though what is to become of
+'Kelly _versus_ Lenaham and another,' is more than I can say."
+
+"They 'll have so many great guns, sir," said Mary, laughing; "won't
+they be able to spare a twenty-four pounder?"
+
+"But I ought, at least, to appear in the battery, my dear. They 'll say
+that I stayed away on account of that young fellow Nelligan; he has a
+brief in that cause, and I know he 'd like another tussle with me. By
+the way, Miss Mary, that reminds me that I promised him to make his--no,
+not his excuses, he was too manly for that; but his--his explanations
+to you about yesterday's business. He was sorely grieved at the part
+assigned him; he spoke feelingly of all the attentions he once met at
+your uncle's hands, but far more so of certain kindnesses shown to
+his mother by yourself; and surmising that you might be unaware of the
+exacting nature of our bar etiquette, that leaves no man at liberty
+to decline a cause, he tortured himself inventing means to set himself
+right with you."
+
+"But I know your etiquette, sir, and I respect it; and Mr. Nelligan
+never stood higher in my estimation than by his conduct of yesterday.
+You can tell him, therefore, that you saw there was no necessity to
+touch on the topic; it will leave less unpleasantness if we should meet
+again."
+
+"What a diplomatist it is!" said Repton, smiling affectionately at her.
+"How successful must all this tact be when engaged with the people! Nay,
+no denial; you know in your heart what subtle devices it supplies you
+with."
+
+"And yet, I 'm not so certain that what you call my diplomacy may not
+have involved me in some trouble,--at least, there is the chance of it."
+
+"As how, my dear child?"
+
+"You shall hear, sir. You know the story of that poor girl at
+Barnagheela, whom they call Mrs. Magennis? Well, her old grandfather--as
+noble a heart as ever beat--had never ceased to pine after her fall. She
+had been the very light of his life, and he loved her on, through
+her sorrow, if not her shame, till, as death drew nigh him, unable to
+restrain his craving desire, he asked me to go and fetch her, to give
+her his last kiss and receive his last blessing. It was a task I had
+fain have declined, were such an escape open to me, but I could not. In
+a word, I went and did his bidding. She stayed with him till he breathed
+his last breath, and then--in virtue of some pledge I hear that she
+made him--she fled, no one knows whither. All trace of her is lost; and
+though I have sent messengers on every side, none have yet discovered
+her."
+
+"Suicide is not the vice of our people," said Repton, gravely.
+
+"I know that well, and the knowledge makes me hopeful. But what
+sufferings are yet before her, what fearful trials has she to meet!"
+
+"By Jove!" cried Repton, rising and pacing the room, "you have courage,
+young lady, that would do honor to a man. You brave the greatest perils
+with a stout-heartedness that the best of us could scarcely summon."
+
+"But, in this case, the peril is not mine, sir."
+
+"I am not so sure of that, Miss Mary," said Repton, doubtingly,--"I
+'m not so sure of that." And, with crossed arms and bent-down head, he
+paced the room slowly back and forwards. "Ay," muttered he to himself,
+"Thursday night--Friday, at all events--will close the record. I can
+speak to evidence on the morning, and be back here again some time in
+the night. Of course it is a duty,--it is more than a duty." Then he
+added, aloud, "There 's the moon breaking out, and a fine breezy sky. I
+'ll take the road, Miss Mary, and, with your good leave, I 'll drink tea
+with you on Friday evening. Nay, my dear, the rule is made absolute."
+
+"I agree," said she, "if it secures me a longer visit on your return."
+
+A few moments afterwards saw Repton seated in the corner of his chaise,
+and hurrying onward at speed. His eyes soon closed in slumber, and as
+he sank off to rest, his lips murmured gently, "My Lord, in rising to
+address the Court, under circumstances of no ordinary difficulty, and in
+a case where vast interest, considerable influence, and, I may add--may
+add--" The words died away, and he was asleep.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVII. LADY DOROTHEA'S LETTER
+
+Though it was late when Repton took his departure, Mary Martin felt
+no inclination for sleep, but addressed herself at once to examine the
+letter bag, whose contents seemed more than usually bulky. Amid a mass
+of correspondence about the estate, she came at length upon the foreign
+letters, of which there were several from the servants to their friends
+or relations at Cro' Martin,--all, as usual, under cover to Miss Martin;
+and at last she found one in Lady Dorothea's own hand, for herself,--a
+very rare occurrence; nay, indeed, it was the first epistle her Ladyship
+had favored her with since her departure.
+
+It was not, then, without curiosity as to the cause that Mary broke the
+large seal and read as follows:--
+
+"Carlsruhe, Saturday Evening, Cour de Bade.
+
+"My dear Niece,--It was only yesterday, when looking over your uncle's
+papers, I chanced upon a letter of yours, dated some five or six weeks
+back, and which, to my great astonishment, I discovered had never been
+communicated to me,--though this mark of deficient confidence will
+doubtless seem less surprising to _you_.
+
+"To bring your letter to your mind, _I_ may observe it is one in which
+you describe the condition of the people on the estate, and the fatal
+inroads then making upon them by famine and pestilence. It is not my
+intention here to advert to what may possibly be a very natural error
+in your account,--the exaggerated picture you draw of their sufferings;
+your sympathy with them, and your presence to witness much of what they
+are enduring, will explain and excuse the highly colored statement of
+their sorrows. It were to be wished that an equally valid apology could
+be made for what I am forced to call the importunity of your demands in
+their favor. Five of your six last letters now before me are filled
+with appeals for abatements of rent, loans to carry out improvements,
+stipends for schoolmasters, doctors, scripture-readers, and a tribe of
+other hangers-on, that really seem to augment in number as the pauperism
+of the people increases. However ungracious the task of disparaging the
+accuracy of your view, I have no other alternative but to accept it, and
+hence I am forced to pen these lines myself in preference to committing
+the office to another.
+
+"It really seems to me that you regard our position as landed
+proprietors in the light of a mere stewardship, and that it is our
+bounden duty to expend upon the tenantry the proceeds of the estate,
+reserving a scanty percentage, perhaps, for ourselves to live upon. How
+you came to this opinion, and whence you acquired it, I have no means of
+knowing. If, however, it has been the suggestion of your own genius, it
+is right you should know that you hold doctrines in common with the most
+distinguished communists of modern times, and are quite worthy of a seat
+of honor beside those who are now convulsing society throughout Europe.
+
+"I am unwilling to utter anything like severity towards errors, many
+of which take their rise in a mistaken and ill-directed benevolence,
+because the original fault of committing the management of this property
+to your hands was the work of another. Let me hope that sincere sorrow
+for so fatal a mistake may not be the primary cause of his present
+attack--"
+
+When Mary read so far, she started with a sudden fear; and turning over
+the pages of the long letter, she sought for some allusion to her uncle.
+At length she found the following lines:--"Your cousin would have
+left this for Ireland, but for the sudden seizure your poor uncle has
+suffered from, and which came upon him after breakfast, in apparently
+his ordinary health. The entire of the left side is attacked,--the face
+particularly,--and his utterance quite inarticulate."
+
+For some minutes she could read no more; the warm tears rolled down her
+cheeks and dropped heavily on the paper, and she could only mutter to
+herself, "My poor, dear uncle,--my last, my only friend in the world!"
+Drying her eyes, with a great effort she read on:--
+
+"The remedies have been so far successful as to arrest the progress
+of the malady, and his appetite is good, and his spirits, everything
+considered, are excellent. Of course, all details of business are
+strictly excluded from his presence; and your cousin has assumed
+whatever authority is necessary to the management of the property. We
+thought at one time your presence here might have been desirable, but,
+considering the distance, the difficulty of travelling without suitable
+companionship, and other circumstances, it would, on the whole, be a
+step we should not recommend; and, indeed, your uncle himself has not
+expressed any wishes on the subject."
+
+She dropped the letter at these words, and, covering her face with her
+hands, sobbed bitterly and long; at length, and with an effort which
+taxed her strength to the utmost, she read on:--
+
+"Although, however, you are to remain at Cro' Martin, it will be more
+than ever imperative you should reduce the establishment there within
+the very strictest possible limits; and to begin this-reform, I 'm fully
+assured it is necessary you should depose old Mrs. Broon, who is really
+incapable of her duties, while her long-acquired habits of expense
+render her incompatible with any new regulations to enforce economy. A
+moderate pension--something, however, in accordance with her real
+wants and requirements, rather than what might be called her
+expectations--should be settled upon her, and there are several farmers
+on the estate, any one of whom would gladly take charge of her. The
+gardens still figure largely in the account, and considering the very
+little probability of our makings the place a residence again, might
+be turned to more profitable use. You will confer with Henderson on
+the subject, and inquire how far it might be advisable to cultivate
+vegetables for market, or convert them into paddocks for calves, or,
+in short, anything which, if less remunerative, should still save the
+enormous outlay we now hear of I scarcely like to allude to the stable,
+knowing how much you lean to the enjoyment of riding and driving; but
+really these are times when retrenchment is called for at every hand;
+and I am persuaded that for purposes of health walking is infinitely
+better than carriage exercise. I know myself, that since I have taken to
+the habit of getting out of the carriage at the wells, and walking twice
+round the parterre, I feel myself braced and better for the day.
+
+"It is not improbable but when the changes I thus suggest, and others
+similar to them, are enacted, that you will see to what little purpose
+a large house is maintained for the mere accommodation of a single
+individual, without suitable means, or indeed any reason whatever, to
+dispense them. If then, I say, you should come to this conviction,--at
+which I have already arrived,--a very great saving might be effected
+by obtaining a tenant for Cro' Martin, while you, if still desirous of
+remaining in the county, might be most comfortably accommodated at the
+Hendersons'."
+
+Three times did Mary Martin read over this passage before she could
+bring herself to believe in its meaning; and hot tears of sorrow coursed
+down her cheeks as she became assured of its import.
+
+"It is not," went on the epistle--"it is not in your uncle's present
+most critical state that I could confer with him on this project,
+nor strengthen my advice by what most probably would be _his_ also. I
+therefore make the appeal simply to your own sense of what you may
+think in accordance with our greatly increased outlay and your own
+requirements. Should you receive this suggestion in the spirit in which
+it is offered, I think that both for your uncle's satisfaction and your
+own dignity, the proposal ought to come from yourself. You could make it
+to me in a letter, stating all the reasons in its favor, and of course
+not omitting to lay suitable stress upon the isolation of your present
+life, and the comfort and security you would derive from the protection
+of a family. Mrs. H. is really a very nice person, and her tastes and
+habits would render her most companionable; and she would, of course,
+make you an object of especial attention and respect. It is, besides,
+not impossible that the daughter may soon return--though this is a point
+I have not leisure to enter upon at present. A hundred a year would he a
+very handsome allowance for Henderson, and indeed for that sum he ought
+to keep your pony, if you still continue your taste for equipage. You
+would thus be more comfortable, and really richer,--that is, have
+more disposable means--than you have hitherto had. I forbear to insist
+further upon what--till it has your own approval--may be a vain advocacy
+on my part. I can only say, in conclusion, that in adopting this plan
+you would equally consult what is due to your own dignity, as what is
+required by your uncle's interests. Your cousin, I am forced to avow it,
+has been very silly, very inconsiderate, not alone in contracting heavy
+debts, but in raising large sums to meet them at fabulous rates of
+interest. The involvements threaten, from what I can gather, to imperil
+a considerable part of the estate, and we are obliged to send for
+Scanlan to come out here, and confer with him as to the means of
+extrication. I feel there is much to be said in palliation of errors
+which have their origin in high and generous qualities. Plantagenet
+was thrown at a very early age into the society of a most expensive
+regiment, and naturally contracted the tastes and habits around him.
+Poor fellow, he is suffering severely from the memory of these early
+indiscretions, and I see that nothing but a speedy settlement of his
+difficulties will ever restore him to his wonted spirits. You will thus
+perceive, that if my suggested change of life to you should not conform
+entirely to your wishes, that you are in reality only accepting your
+share of the sacrifices called for from each of us.
+
+"There are a great number of other matters on which I wished to
+touch,--some, indeed, are not exactly within your province, such as
+the political fortunes of the borough, whose seat Mr. Massingbred has
+determined to vacate. Although not admitting the reason for his conduct,
+I am strongly convinced that the step is a mere acknowledgment of
+an error on his part, and an effort, however late, at the _amende
+honorable_. The restitution, for so I am forced to regard it, comes most
+inopportunely, since it would be a most ill-chosen moment in which to
+incur the expense of a contested election; besides that, really your
+cousin has no desire whatever for Parliamentary honors. Plantagenet,
+however, would seem to have some especial intentions on the subject
+which he keeps secret, and has asked of Massingbred not to send off
+his farewell address to the constituency for some days. But I will not
+continue a theme so little attractive to you.
+
+"Dr. Schubart has just called to see your uncle. He is not altogether
+so satisfied with his state as I could have hoped; he advises change of
+scene, and a little more intercourse with the world, and we have some
+thought of Nice, if we cannot get on to Naples. Dr. S., to whom I spoke
+on the subject of your Irish miseries, tells me that cholera is now
+the most manageable of all maladies, if only taken early; that you must
+enjoin the persons attacked to a more liberal diet, no vegetables, and
+a sparing use of French wines, excepting, he says, the generous 'Vins du
+Midi.' There is also a mixture to be taken--of which he promised me
+the prescription--and a pill every night of arnica or aconite--I 'm not
+quite certain which--but it is a perfect specific. He also adds, what
+must be felt as most reassuring, that the disease never attacks but the
+very poorest of the population. As to typhus, he smiled when I spoke
+of it. It is, he says, a mere 'Gastrite,' a malady which modern science
+actually despises. In fact, my dear niece, these would seem, like all
+other Irish misfortunes, the mere offshoots of her own dark ignorance
+and barbarism. If it were not for the great expense--and of course that
+consideration decides the question--I should have requested you to send
+over your doctor here to confer with Dr. Schubart. Indeed, I think
+it might be a very reasonable demand to make of the Government, but
+unhappily my present 'relations' with my relative Lord Reckington
+preclude any advances of mine in that quarter.
+
+"I was forgetting to add that, with respect to cholera, and indeed fever
+generally, that Dr. S. lays great stress upon what he calls the moral
+treatment of the people, amusing their minds by easily learned games and
+simple pleasures. I fear me, however, that the coarser natures of our
+population may not derive adequate amusement from the resources which
+would have such eminent success with the enlightened peasant of the
+Rhine land. Dr. S., I may remark, is a very distinguished writer on
+politics, and daily amazes us with the astounding speculations he is
+forming as to the future condition of Europe. His conviction is that our
+great peril is Turkey, and that Mohammedanism will be the religion
+of Europe before the end of the present century. Those new baths
+established at Brighton by a certain Hamet are a mere political agency,
+a secret propaganda, which his acuteness has alone penetrated. Miss
+Henderson has ventured to oppose these views with something not very far
+from impertinent ridicule, and for some time back, Dr. S. only discusses
+them with myself alone.
+
+"I had left the remainder of the sheet for any intelligence that might
+occur before post hour, but I am suddenly called away, and shall close
+it at once. When I was sitting with your uncle awhile ago, I _half_
+broached the project I was suggesting to you, and he seemed highly to
+approve of so much as I ventured to tell him. Nothing then is wanting
+but your own concurrence to make it as practicable as it is deemed
+advisable by your affectionate aunt,
+
+"Dorothea Martin."
+
+
+The eccentricities of her aunt's character had always served as
+extenuating circumstances with Mary Martin. She knew the violence of
+her prejudices, the enormous amount of her self-esteem, and the facility
+with which she was ever able to persuade herself that whatever she
+wished to do assumed at once all the importance and gravity of a duty!
+This thorough appreciation of her peculiarities enabled Mary to bear
+up patiently under many sore trials and some actual wrongs. Where the
+occasion was a light one, she could afford to smile at such trials, and,
+even in serious cases, they palliated the injustice; but here was an
+instance wherein all her forgiveness was in vain. To take the moment of
+her poor uncle's illness--that terrible seizure, which left him without
+self-guidance, if even a will--to dictate these hard and humiliating
+terms, was a downright cruelty. Nor did it diminish the suffering which
+that letter cost her that its harsh conditions seemed dictated by a
+spirit of contempt for Ireland and its people. As Mary re-read the
+letter, she felt that every line breathed this tone of depreciation. It
+was to her Ladyship a matter of less than indifference what became of
+the demesne, who inhabited the house,--the home of "the Martins" for
+centuries! She was as little concerned for the prestige of "the old
+family," as she was interested for the sorrows of the people. If Mary
+endeavored to treat these things dispassionately to her own heart,
+by dwelling upon all the points which affected others, still, her own
+individual wrong would work to the surface, and the bitter and insulting
+suggestion made to her rose up before her in all its enormity.
+
+She did her very best to turn her thoughts into some other channel,--to
+fix them upon her poor uncle, on his sick-bed, and sorrowing as he
+was sure to be; to think of her cousin Harry, struggling against the
+embarrassments of his own imprudence; of the old housekeeper, Catty
+Broon, to whom she could not summon courage to speak the cruel tidings
+of her changed lot,--but all, all in vain; back she would come to the
+humiliation that foreshadowed her own fortune, and threatened to depose
+her from her station forever.
+
+An indignant appeal to her uncle--her own father's brother--was her
+first resolve. "Let me learn," said she to herself, "from his own lips,
+that such is the destiny he assigns me; that in return for my tried
+affection, my devotion, he has no other recompense than to lower me in
+self-esteem and condition together. Time enough, when assured of
+this, to decide upon what I shall do. But to whom shall I address this
+demand?" thought she again. "That dear, kind uncle is now struck down
+by illness. It were worse than cruelty to add to his own sorrows any
+thought of _mine_. If he have concurred in Lady Dorothea's suggestion,
+who knows in what light it may have been presented to him, by what
+arguments strengthened, with what perils contrasted? Is it impossible,
+too, that the sacrifice may be imperative? The sale of part of the
+property, the pressure of heavy claims,--all show that it may be
+necessary to dispose of Cro' Martin. Oh," exclaimed she, in agony,
+"it is but a year ago, that when Mr. Repton hinted vaguely at such a
+casualty, how stoutly and indignantly did I reject it!
+
+"'Your uncle may choose to live abroad,' said he; 'to sell the estate,
+perhaps.' And I heard him with almost scornful defiance; and now the
+hour is come! and even yet I cannot bring myself to believe it. When
+Repton drew the picture of the tenantry, forsaken and neglected, the
+poor unnoticed, and the sick uncared for, he still forgot to assign me
+my place in the sad 'tableau,' and show that in destitution my lot was
+equal to their own; the very poorest and meanest had yet some spot, poor
+and mean though it were, they called a home, that Mary Martin was the
+only one an outcast!"
+
+These gloomy thoughts were darkened as she bethought her that of her
+little fortune--on which, by Scanlan's aid, she had raised a loan--a
+mere fragment remained,--a few hundred pounds at most. The outlay on
+hospitals and medical assistance for the sick had more than quadrupled
+what she had estimated. The expense once begun, she had persevered with
+almost reckless determination. She had despatched to Dublin, one by one,
+the few articles of jewelry and value she possessed for sale; she had
+limited her own expenditure to the very narrowest bounds, nor was it
+till driven by the utmost urgency that she wrote the appeal to her uncle
+of which the reader already knows.
+
+"How I once envied Kate Henderson," cried she, aloud, "the brilliant
+accomplishments she possessed, the graceful charm that her cultivation
+threw over society, and the fascination she wielded, by acquirements of
+which I knew nothing; but how much more now do I envy her, that in those
+same gifts her independence was secured,--that, high above the chances
+of the world, she could build upon her own efforts, and never descend to
+a condition of dependence!"
+
+Her diminished power amongst the people had been fully compensated by
+the sincere love and affection she had won from them by acts of charity
+and devotion. Even these, however, owed much of their efficacy to the
+prestige of her station. No peasant in Europe puts so high a value on
+the intercourse with a rank above his own as does the Irish. The most
+pleasant flattery to his nature is the notice of "the gentleman," and
+it was more than half the boon Mary bestowed upon the poor, that she
+who sat down beside the bed, who heated the little drink, who raised the
+head to swallow it, was the daughter of the Great House! Would not her
+altered fortune destroy this charm? was now her bitter reflection. Up
+to this hour, greatly reduced as were the means she dispensed, and the
+influence she wielded, she still lived in the proud home of her family,
+and all regarded her as the representative of her honored name. But
+now--No, she could not endure the thought! "If I must descend to further
+privations," said she to herself, "let me seek out some new scene,--some
+spot where I am unknown, have never been heard of; there, at least, I
+shall be spared the contrast of the past with the present, nor see in
+every incident the cruel mockery of my former life.
+
+"And yet," thought she, "how narrow-minded and selfish is all this, how
+mean-spirited, to limit the question to my own feelings! Is there no
+duty involved in this sacrifice? Shall I not still--reduced though I be
+in fortune--shall I not still be a source of comfort to many here? Will
+not the very fact of my presence assure them that they are not deserted?
+They have seen me under some trials, and the lesson has not been
+fruitless. Let them then behold me, under heavier ones, not dismayed nor
+cast down. What I lose in the prestige of station I shall more than gain
+in sympathy; and so I remain!" No sooner was the resolve formed than
+all her wonted courage came back. Rallying with the stimulus of action
+before her, she began to plan out a new life, in which her relation
+to the people should be closer and nearer than ever. There was a small
+ornamental cottage on the demesne, known as the Chalet, built by
+Lady Dorothea after one she had seen in the Oberland; this Mary now
+determined on for her home, and there, with Catty Broon alone, she
+resolved to live.
+
+"My aunt," thought she, "can scarcely be so wedded to the Henderson
+scheme but that this will equally satisfy her wishes; and while it
+secures a home and a resting-place for-poor Catty, it rescues _me_ from
+what I should feel as a humiliation."
+
+The day was already beginning to dawn as Mary sat down to answer Lady
+Dorothea's letter. Most of her reply referred to her uncle, to whose
+affection she clung all the more as her fortunes darkened. She saw all
+the embarrassment of proffering her services to nurse and tend him,
+living, as he was, amidst his own; but still, she said that of the
+journey or its difficulties she should never waste a thought, if her
+presence at his sick-bed could afford him the slightest satisfaction.
+"He knows me as a nurse already," said she. "But tell him that I have
+grown, if not wiser, calmer and quieter than he knew me formerly; that
+I should not disturb him by foolish stories, but sit patiently save when
+he would have me to talk. Tell him, too, that if changed in many things,
+in my love to_ him_ I am unaltered." She tried to add more, but could
+not. The thought that these lines were to be read to her uncle by Lady
+Dorothea chilled her, and the very tones of that supercilious voice
+seemed to ring in her ears, and she imagined some haughty or insolent
+comment to follow them as they were uttered.
+
+With regard to her own future, she, in a few words, remarked upon the
+unnecessary expense of maintaining a large house for the accommodation
+of a single person, and said that, if her Ladyship concurred in the
+plan, she would prefer taking up her home at the Chalet with old Catty
+for companion and housekeeper.
+
+She pointed out the advantages of a change which, while securing a
+comfortable home to them, would equally suggest to their dependants
+lessons of thrift and self-sacrifice, and added, half sportively, "As
+for me, when I find myself _en Suisse_, I 'm sure I shall less regret
+horses and dogs, and such-like vanities, and take to the delights of
+a dairy and cream cheeses with a good grace. Indeed, I 'm not quite
+certain but that Fortune, instead of displacing, will in reality be
+only installing me in the position best suited to me. Do not, then, be
+surprised, if at your return you find me in sabots and an embroidered
+bodice, deep in the mystery of all cottage economics, and well content
+to be so.
+
+"You are quite right, my dear aunt," she continued, "not to entertain
+me with politics. The theme is as much above as it is distasteful to
+me; and so grovelling are my sentiments, that I 'd rather hear of
+the arrival of a cargo of oatmeal at Kilkieran than learn that the
+profoundest statesman of Great Britain had condescended to stand for
+our dear borough of Oughterard. At the same time, if Cousin Harry should
+change his mind, and turn his ambition towards the Senate, tell him I
+'m quite ready to turn out and canvass for him to-morrow, and that the
+hospitalities of the Chalet shall do honor to the cause. As you speak
+of sending for Mr. Scanlan, I leave to him to tell you all the events of
+our late assizes here,--a task I escape from the more willingly, since
+I have no successes to record. Mr. Repton, however,--he paid me a visit
+yesterday, and stopped here to dinner,--says that he has no fears for
+the result at the next trial, and honestly confesses that our present
+defeat was entirely owing to the skill and ability of the counsel
+opposed to us. By some delay or mistake, I don't exactly know which,
+Scanlan omitted to send a retainer to young Mr. Nelligan, and who, being
+employed for the other side, was the chief cause of our failure. My
+uncle will be pleased to learn that Mr. N.'s address to the jury was
+scrupulously free from any of that invective or attack so frequently
+levelled at landlords when defending the rights of property. Repton
+called it 'a model of legal argument, delivered with the eloquence of a
+first-rate speaker, and the taste and temper of a gentleman.' Indeed,
+I understand that the tone of the speech has rendered all the ribaldry
+usual on such occasions in local journals impossible, and that the young
+barrister has acquired anything but popularity in consequence. Even
+in this much, is there a dawn of better things; and under such
+circumstances a defeat may be more profitable than a victory."
+
+With a few kind messages to her uncle, and an earnest entreaty for
+early tidings of his state, Mary concluded a letter in which her great
+difficulty lay in saying far less than her thoughts dictated, and
+conveying as much as she dare trust to Lady Dorothea's interpretation.
+The letter concluded and sealed, she lay down, dressed as she was, on
+her bed, and fell a-thinking over the future.
+
+There are natures to whom the opening of any new vista in life suggests
+fully as much of pleasure as anxiety. The prospect of the unknown and
+the untried has something of the adventurous about it which more than
+counterbalances the casualties of a future. Such a temperament was hers;
+and the first sense of sorrowful indignation over, she really began
+to speculate upon her cottage life with a certain vague and dreamy
+enjoyment. She foresaw, that when Cro' Martin Castle fell into other
+hands, that her own career ceased, her occupation was gone, and that
+she should at once fashion out some new road, and conform herself to new
+habits. The cares of her little household would probably not suffice to
+engage one whose active mind had hitherto embraced so wide a field of
+action, and Mary then bethought her how this leisure might be devoted to
+study and improvement. It was only in the eager enthusiasm of her many
+pursuits that she buried her sorrows over her neglected and imperfect
+education; and now a time was approaching when that reflection could no
+longer be resisted. She pondered long and deeply over these thoughts,
+when suddenly they were interrupted; but in what way, deserves a chapter
+of its own,--albeit a very brief one.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVIII. MR. MERL'S EXPERIENCES IN THE WEST
+
+"What card is this?--who left it?" said Mary, as she took up one from
+her breakfast-table.
+
+"It is a gentleman that came to the inn late last night, miss, and sent
+a boy over to ask when he could pay his respects at the castle."
+
+"'Mr. Herman Merl,'--a name I never heard of," muttered Mary to herself.
+"Doubtless some stranger wishing to see the house. Say, whenever he
+pleases, George; and order Sorrel to be ready, saddled and at the door,
+within an hour. This must be a busy day," said she, still speaking to
+herself, as the servant left the room. "At Oughterard before one; a
+meeting of the Loan Fund--I shall need some aid for my hospital; the
+Government order for the meal to be countersigned by a justice--Mr.
+Nelligan will do it. Then there 's Taite's little boy to be balloted
+for in the Orphan House; and Cassidy's son to be sent up to Dublin.
+Poor fellow, he has a terrible operation to go through. And I shall
+need Priest Rafferty's name to this memorial from the widows; the castle
+authorities seem to require it. After that, a visit to Kyle-a-Noe, to
+see all my poor sick folk: that will be a long business. I hope I may be
+able to get down to the shore and learn some tidings of poor Joan. She
+never leaves my thoughts, and yet I feel that no ill has befallen her."
+
+"The gentleman that sent the card, miss, is below stairs. He is with Mr.
+Crow, at the hall-door," said George.
+
+"Show him into the drawing-room, George, and tell Mr. Crow to come here,
+I wish to speak to him." And before Mary had put away the papers and
+letters which littered the table, the artist entered.
+
+"Good morning, Mr. Crow," said Mary, in return for a number of most
+courteous salutations, which he was performing in a small semicircle in
+front of her. "Who is your friend Mr.--'Mr. Herman Merl '?" read she,
+taking up the card.
+
+"A friend of your cousin's, Miss Mary,--of the Captain's. He brought a
+letter from him; but he gave it to Scanlan, and somehow Mr. Maurice, I
+believe, forgot to deliver it."
+
+"I have no recollection of it," said she, still assorting the papers
+before her. "What is this visit meant for,--curiosity, pleasure,
+business? Does he wish to see the house?"
+
+"I think it's Miss Martin herself he'd like to see," said Crow, half
+slyly.
+
+"But why so? It's quite clear that I cannot show him any attentions. A
+young girl, living as I do here, cannot be expected to receive guests.
+Besides, I have other things to attend to. You must do the honors of
+Cro' Martin, Mr. Crow. You must entertain this gentleman for me. I 'll
+order luncheon before I go out, and I 'm sure you 'll not refuse me this
+service."
+
+"I wish I knew a real service to render you, Miss Mary," said he, with
+unfeigned devotedness in his look as he spoke.
+
+"I think I could promise myself as much," said Mary, smiling kindly on
+him. "Do you happen to know anything of this stranger, Mr. Crow?"
+
+"Nothing, miss, beyond seeing him this week back at Kilkieran."
+
+"Oh, I have heard of him, then," broke in Mary. "It is of him the people
+tell me such stories of benevolence and goodness. It was he that sent
+the yawl out to Murran Island with oatmeal and potatoes for the poor.
+But I thought they called him Mr. Barry?"
+
+"To be sure they do; and he's another guess man from him below stairs.
+This one here"--Mr. Crow now spoke in a whisper--"this one here is a
+Jew, I 'd take the Testament on it, and I 'd not be surprised if he was
+one of them thieving villains that they say robbed the Captain! All the
+questions he does be asking about the property, and the rents, if they
+'re well paid, and what arrears there are, shows me that he isn't here
+for nothing."
+
+"I know nothing of what you allude to, Mr. Crow," said she, half
+proudly; "it would ill become _me_ to pry into my cousin's affairs. At
+the same time, if the gentleman has no actual business with me, I shall
+decline to receive him."
+
+"He says he has, miss," replied Crow. "He says that he wants to speak to
+you about a letter he got by yesterday's post from the Captain."
+
+Mary heard this announcement with evident impatience; her head was,
+indeed, too full of other cares to wish to occupy her attention with a
+ceremonial visit. She was in no mood to accept the unmeaning compliments
+of a new acquaintance. Shall we dare to insinuate, what after all is
+a mere suspicion on our part, that a casual glance at her pale cheeks,
+sunken eyes, and careworn features had some share in the obstinacy of
+her refusal? She was not, indeed, "in looks," and she knew it. "Must I
+repeat it, Mr. Crow," said she, peevishly, "that you can do all this for
+me, and save me a world of trouble and inconvenience besides? If there
+should be--a very unlikely circumstance--anything confidential to
+communicate, this gentleman may write it." And with this she left the
+room, leaving poor Mr. Crow in a state of considerable embarrassment.
+Resolving to make the best of his difficulty, he returned to the
+drawing-room, and apologizing to Merl for Miss Martin's absence on
+matters of great necessity, he conveyed her request that he would stop
+for luncheon.
+
+"She ain't afraid of me, I hope?" said Merl.
+
+"I trust not. I rather suspect she is little subject to fear upon any
+score," replied Crow.
+
+"Well, I must say it's not exactly what I expected. The letter I hold
+here from the Captain gives me to understand that his cousin will not
+only receive me, but confer with and counsel me, too, in a somewhat
+important affair."
+
+"Oh, I forgot," broke in Crow; "you are to write to her, she said,--that
+is, if there really were anything of consequence, which you deemed
+confidential, you know,--you were to write to her."
+
+"I never put my hand to paper, Mr. Crow, without well knowing why. When
+Herman Merl signs anything, he takes time to consider what's in it,"
+said the Jew, knowingly.
+
+"Well, shall I show you the house,--there are some clever specimens of
+the Dutch masters here?" asked Crow, anxious to change the topic.
+
+"Ay, with all my heart. I suppose I must accept this privilege as my
+experience of the much-boasted Irish hospitality," said he with a sneer,
+which required all Crow's self-control to resist answering. To master
+the temptation, and give himself a few moments' repose, he went about
+opening windows and drawing back curtains, so as to admit a fuller and
+stronger light upon the pictures along the walls.
+
+"There now," said he, pointing to a large landscape, "there's a Both,
+and a fine one too; as mellow in color and as soft in distance as ever
+he painted."
+
+"That's a copy," said the other. "That picture was painted by Woeffel,
+and I 'll show you his initials, too, A. W., before we leave it."
+
+"It came from the Dordrecht gallery, and is an undoubted Both!"
+exclaimed Crow, angrily.
+
+"I saw it there myself, and in very suitable company, too, with a
+Snyders on one side and a Rubens on t' other, the Snyders being a Faltk,
+and the Rubens a Metziger; the whole three being positively dear at
+twenty pounds. Ay, here it is," continued he, pointing to the hollow
+trunk of a decayed tree: "there's the initials. So much for your
+original by Both."
+
+"I hope you'll allow that to be a Mieris?" said Crow, passing on to
+another.
+
+"If you hadn't opened the shutters, perhaps I might," said Merl; "but
+with a good dash of light I see it is by Jansens,--and a clever copy,
+too."
+
+"A copy!" exclaimed the other.
+
+"A good copy," I said. "The King of Bavaria has the original. It is in the
+small collection at Hohen Schwangau."
+
+"There, that's good!" cried he, turning to a small unfinished sketch in
+oils.
+
+"I often wondered who did it," cried Crow.
+
+"That! Why, can you doubt, sir? That's a bit of Vandyke's own. It was
+one of the hundred and fifty rough things he threw off as studies for
+his great picture of St. Martin parting his cloak."
+
+"I'm glad to hear you say so," said Crow, in delight. "I felt, when I
+looked at it, that it was a great hand threw in them colors."
+
+"You call this a Salvator Rosa, don't you?" said Merl, as he stood
+before a large piece representing a bandit's bivouac in a forest, with a
+pale moonlight stealing through the trees.
+
+"Yes, that we do," said Crow, stoutly.
+
+"Of course, it's quite sufficient to have blended lights, rugged
+foregrounds, and plenty of action to make a Salvator; but let me tell
+you, sir, that it's not even a copy of him. It is a bad--ay, and a very
+bad--Haemlens,--an Antwerp fellow that lived by poor facsimiles."
+
+"Oh dear, oh dear!" cried Crow, despairingly. "Did I ever hear the like
+of this!"
+
+"Are these your best things, Mr. Crow?" said Merl, surveying the room
+with an air of consummate depreciation.
+
+"There are others. There are some portraits and a number of small
+cabinet pictures."
+
+"Gerard Dows, and Jansens, and such like?" resumed Merl; "I understand:
+a mellow brown tint makes them, just as a glossy white satin petticoat
+makes a Terburg. Mr. Crow, you 've caught a Tartar," said he, with a
+grin. "There's not a man in Europe can detect a copy from the original
+sooner than him before you. Now seven out of every eight of these here
+are veritable 'cro�tes,'--what we call 'cro�tes,' sir,--things sold at
+Christie's, and sent off to the Continent to be hung up in old ch�teaux
+in Flanders, or dilapidated villas in Italy, where your exploring
+Englishman discovers them by rare good luck, and brings them home with
+him as Cuyps or Claudes or Vandykes. I'll undertake," said he, looking
+around him,--"I'll undertake to furnish you with a gallery, in every
+respect the duplicate of this, for--let me see--say three hundred
+pounds. Now, Mr. Crow," said Merl, taking a chair, and spreading out his
+legs before the fire, "will you candidly answer me one question?"
+
+"Tell me what it is," said Crow, cautiously.
+
+"I suppose by this time," said Merl, "you are tolerably well satisfied
+that Herman Merl is not very easily duped? I mean to say that at least
+there are _softer_ fellows to be found than the humble individual who
+addresses you."
+
+"I trust there are, indeed," said the other, sighing, "or it would be a
+mighty poor world for Simmy Crow and the likes of him."
+
+"Well, I think so too," said Merl, chuckling to himself. "The wide-awake
+ones have rather the best of it. But, to come back to my question, I
+was simply going to ask you if the whole of the Martin estate--house,
+demesne, woods, gardens, quarries, farms, and fisheries--was not pretty
+much of the same sort of thing as this here gallery?"
+
+"How? What do you mean?" asked Crow, whose temper was barely, and with
+some difficulty, restrainable.
+
+"I mean, in plain words, a regular humbug,--that's all! and no more the
+representative of real value than these daubs here are the works of the
+great masters whose names they counterfeit."
+
+"Look here, sir," said Crow, rising, and approaching the other with a
+face of angry indignation, "for aught I know, you may be right about
+these pictures. The chances are you are a dealer in such wares,--at
+least you talk like one,--but of the family that lived under this roof,
+and whose bread I have eaten for many a day, if you utter one word that
+even borders on disrespect,--if you as much as hint at--"
+
+What was to be the conclusion of Mr. Crow's menace we have no means of
+recording, for a servant, rushing in at the instant, summoned the artist
+with all speed to Miss Martin's presence. He found her, as he entered,
+with flushed cheeks and eyes flashing angrily, in one of the deep
+recesses of a window that looked out upon the lawn.
+
+"Come here, sir," cried she, hurriedly,--"come here, and behold a sight
+such as you scarcely ever thought to look upon from these windows. Look
+here!" And she pointed to an assemblage of about a hundred people,
+many of whom were rudely armed with stakes, gathered around the chief
+entrance of the castle. In the midst was a tall man, mounted upon a
+wretched horse, who seemed from his gestures to be haranguing the mob,
+and whom Crow speedily recognized to be Magennis of Barnagheela.
+
+"What does all this mean?" asked he, in astonishment.
+
+"It means this, sir," said she, grasping his arm and speaking in a voice
+thick from passionate eagerness. "That these people whom you see there
+have demanded the right to enter the house and search it from basement
+to roof. They are in quest of one that is missing; and although I have
+given my word of honor that none such is concealed here, they have dared
+to disbelieve me, and declare they will see for themselves. They might
+know me better," added she, with a bitter smile,--"they might know me
+better, and that I no more utter a falsehood than I yield to a menace.
+See!" exclaimed she, "they are passing through the flower-garden,--they
+are approaching the lower windows. Take a horse, Mr. Crow, and ride for
+Kiltimmon; there is a police-station there,--bring up the force with
+you,--lose no time, I entreat you."
+
+"But how--leave you here all alone?"
+
+"Have no fears on that score, sir," said she, proudly; "they may insult
+the roof that shelters me, to myself they will offer no outrage. But be
+quick; away at once, and with speed!"
+
+Had Mr. Crow been, what it must be owned had been difficult, a worse
+horseman than he was, he would never have hesitated to obey this behest.
+Ere many minutes, therefore, he was in the saddle and flying across
+country at a pace such as he never imagined any energy could have
+exacted from him.
+
+"They have got a ladder up to the windows of the large drawing-room,
+Miss Mary," said a servant; "they'll be in before many minutes."
+
+Taking down two splendidly ornamented pistols from above the
+chimney-piece, Mary examined the priming, and ordering the servant away,
+she descended by a small private stair to the drawing-room beneath.
+Scarcely, however, had she crossed the threshold than she was met by
+a man eagerly hurrying away. Stepping back in astonishment, and with a
+face pale as death, he exclaimed, "Is it Miss Martin?"
+
+"Yes, sir," replied she, firmly; "and your name?"
+
+"Mr. Merl--Herman Merl," said he, with a stealthy glance towards
+the windows, on the outside of which two fellows were now seated,
+communicating with those below.
+
+"This is not a moment for much ceremony, sir," said she, promptly; "but
+you are here opportunely. These people will have it that I am harboring
+here one that they are in pursuit of. I have assured them of their
+error, I have pledged my word of honor upon it, but they are not
+satisfied. They declare that they will search the house, and _I_ as
+firmly declare they-shall not."
+
+"But the person is really not here?" broke in Merl.
+
+"I have said so, sir," rejoined she, haughtily.
+
+"Then why not let them search? Egad, I'd say, look away to your heart's
+content, pry into every hole and corner you please, only don't do any
+mischief to the furniture--don't let any--"
+
+"I was about to ask your assistance, sir, but your counsel saves me from
+the false step. To one who proffers such wise advice, arguments like
+these"--and she pointed to the pistols--"arguments like these would be
+most distasteful; and yet let us see if others may not be of your mind
+too." And steadily aiming her weapon for a second or two, she sent
+a ball through the window, about a foot above the head of one of the
+fellows without. Scarcely had the report rung out and the splintering
+glass fallen, than the two men leaped to the ground, while a wild cheer,
+half derision, half anger, burst from the mob beneath. "Now, sir,"
+continued she, with a smile of a very peculiar meaning, as she turned
+towards Merl,--"now, sir, you will perceive that you have got into very
+indiscreet company, such as I 'm sure Captain Martin's letter never
+prepared you for; and although it is not exactly in accordance with the
+usual notions of Irish hospitality to point to the door, perhaps you
+will be grateful to me when I say that you can escape by that corridor.
+It leads to a stair which will conduct you to the stable-yard. I'll
+order a saddle-horse for you. I suppose you ride?" And really the glance
+which accompanied these words was not a flattery.
+
+[Illustration: 222]
+
+However the proposition might have met Mr.' Merl's wishes there is no
+means of knowing, for a tremendous crash now interrupted the colloquy,
+and the same instant the door of the drawing-room was burst open, and
+Magennis, followed by a number of country people, entered.
+
+"I told you," cried he, rudely, "that I'd not be denied. It's your own
+fault if you would drive me to enter here by force."
+
+"Well, sir, force has done it," said she, taking a seat as she spoke. "I
+am here alone, and you may be proud of the achievement!" The glance she
+directed towards Merl made that gentleman shrink back, and eventually
+slide noiselessly from the room, and escape from the scene altogether.
+
+"If you'll send any one with me through the house, Miss Martin," began
+Magennis, in a tone of much subdued meaning--"No, sir," broke she
+in--"no, sir, I'll give no such order. You have already had my solemn
+word of honor, assuring you that there was not any one concealed
+here. The same incredulous disrespect you have shown to my word would
+accompany whatever direction I gave to my servants. Go wherever you
+please; for the time you are the master here. Mark me, sir," said she,
+as, half crestfallen and in evident shame, he was about to move from
+the room--"mark me, sir, if I feel sorry that one who calls himself
+a gentleman should dishonor his station by discrediting the word, the
+plighted word, of a lady, yet I can forgive much to him whose feelings
+are under the impulse of passion. But how shall I speak my contempt
+for _you_,"--and she turned a withering look of scorn on the men who
+followed him,--"for you, who have dared to come here to insult me,--I,
+that if you had the least spark of honest manhood in your natures, you
+had died rather than have offended? Is this your requital for the part I
+have borne amongst you? Is it thus that you repay the devotion by which
+I have squandered all that I possessed, and would have given my life,
+too, for you and yours? Is it thus, think you, that your mothers and
+wives and sisters would requite me? Or will they welcome you back from
+your day's work, and say, Bravely done? You have insulted a lone girl in
+her home, outraged the roof whence she never issued save to serve you,
+and taught her to believe that the taunts your enemies cast upon you,
+and which she once took as personal affronts to herself, that they are
+just and true, and as less than you merited. Go back, men," added she,
+in a voice trembling with emotion,--"go back, while it is time. Go back
+in shame, and let me never know who has dared to offer me this insult!"
+And she hid her face between her hands, and bent down her head upon her
+lap. For several minutes she remained thus, overwhelmed and absorbed by
+intensely painful emotion, and when she lifted up her head, and looked
+around, they were gone! A solemn silence reigned on every side; not a
+word, nor a footfall, could be heard. She rushed to the window just in
+time to see a number of men slowly entering the wood, amidst whom she
+recognized Magennis, leading his horse by the bridle, and following the
+others, with bent-down head and sorrowful mien.
+
+"Oh, thank Heaven for this!" cried she, passionately, as the tears
+gushed out and coursed down her face. "Thank Heaven that they are not as
+others call them--cold-hearted and treacherous, craven in their hour of
+trial, and cruel in the day of their vengeance! I knew them better!"
+It was long before she could sufficiently subdue her emotion to think
+calmly of what had occurred. At last she bethought her of Mr. Merl, and
+despatched a servant in his pursuit, with a polite request that he would
+return. The man came up with Merl as he had reached the small gate
+of the park, but no persuasions, no entreaties, could prevail on that
+gentleman to retrace his steps; nay, he was frank enough to say, "He
+had seen quite enough of the West," and to invoke something very unlike
+benediction on his head if he ever passed another day in Galway.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIX. MR. MERL'S "LAST" IRISH IMPRESSION
+
+Never once turning his head towards Cro' Martin, Mr. Merl set out for
+Oughterard, where, weary and footsore, he arrived that same evening. His
+first care was to take some refreshment; his next to order horses for
+Dublin early for the following morning. This done, he sat down to write
+to Captain Martin, to convey to him what Merl designated as a "piece of
+his mind," a phrase which, in popular currency, is always understood to
+imply the very reverse of any flattery. The truth was, Mr. Merl began to
+suspect that his Irish liens were a very bad investment, that property
+in that country was held under something like a double title, the one
+conferred by law, the other maintained by a resolute spirit and a stout
+heart; that parchments required to be seconded by pistols, and that he
+who owned an estate must always hold himself in readiness to fight for
+it.
+
+Now, these were all very unpalatable considerations. They rendered
+possession perilous, they made sale almost impossible. In the cant
+phrase of Ceylon, the Captain had sold him a wild elephant; or, to speak
+less figuratively, disposed of what he well knew the purchaser could
+never avail himself of. If Mr. Merl was an emblem of blandness and good
+temper at the play-table, courteous and conceding at every incident of
+the game, it was upon the very wise calculation that the politeness was
+profitable. The little irregularities that he pardoned all gave him an
+insight into the character of his antagonists; and where he appeared to
+have lost a battle, he had gained more than a victory in knowledge of
+the enemy.
+
+These blandishments were, however, no real part of the man's natural
+temperament, which was eminently distrustful and suspicious, wary to
+detect a blot, prompt and sharp to hit it. A vague, undefined impression
+had now come over him that the Captain had overreached him; that even if
+unincumbered,--which was far from the case,--this same estate was like a
+forfeited territory, which to own a man must assert his mastery with the
+strong hand of force. "I should like to see myself settling down amongst
+those savages," thought he, "collecting my rents with dragoons, or
+levying a fine with artillery. Property, indeed! You might as well
+convey to me by bill of sale the right over a drove of wild buffaloes in
+South America, or give me a title to a given number of tigers in Bengal.
+He'd be a bold man that would even venture to come and have a look at
+'his own.'"
+
+It was in this spirit, therefore, that he composed his epistle, which
+assuredly lacked nothing on the score of frankness and candor. All his
+"Irish impressions" had been unfavorable. He had eaten badly, he had
+slept worse; the travelling was rude, the climate detestable; and
+lastly, where he had expected to have been charmed with the ready
+wit, and amused with the racy humor of the people, he had only been
+terrified--terrified almost to death--by their wild demeanor, and a
+ferocity that made his heart quake. "Your cousin," said he,--"your
+cousin, whom, by the way, I only saw for a few minutes, seemed admirably
+adapted to the exigencies of the social state around her; and although
+ball practice has not been included amongst the ordinary items of young
+ladies' acquirements, I am satisfied that it might advantageously form
+part of an Irish education.
+
+"As to your offer of a seat in Parliament, I can only say," continued
+he, "that as the Member of Oughterard I should always feel as though I
+were seated over a barrel of gunpowder; while the very idea of meeting
+my constituency makes me shudder. I am, however, quite sensible of
+the honor intended me, both upon that score and in your proposal of
+my taking up my residence at Cro' Martin. The social elevation, and
+so forth, to ensue from such a course of proceeding would have this
+disadvantage,--it would not pay! No, Captain Martin, the settlement
+between us must stand upon another basis,--the very simple and
+matter-of-fact one called � s. d. I shall leave this to-morrow, and
+be in town, I hope, by Wednesday; you can, therefore, give your man of
+business, Mr. Saunders, his instructions to meet me at Wimpole's, and
+state what terms of liquidation he is prepared to offer. Suffice it for
+the present to say that I decline any arrangement which should transfer
+to me any portion of the estate. I declare to you, frankly, I'd
+not accept the whole of it on the condition of retaining the
+proprietorship."
+
+When Mr. Merl had just penned the last sentence, the door slowly and
+cautiously was opened behind him, and a very much carbuncled face
+protruded into the room. "Yes, that's himself," muttered a voice; and
+ere Merl had been able to detect the speaker, the door was closed. These
+casual interruptions to his privacy had so frequently occurred since the
+commencement of his tour, that he only included them amongst his other
+Irish "disagreeables;" and so he was preparing to enter on another
+paragraph, when a very decisive knock at the door startled him, and
+before he could say "Come in," a tall, red-faced, vulgar-looking man,
+somewhat stooped in the shoulders, and with that blear-eyed watery
+expression so distinctive in hard drinkers, slowly entered, and shutting
+the door behind him, advanced to the fire.
+
+"My name, sir, is Brierley," said he, with a full, rich brogue.
+
+"Brierley--Brierley--never heard of Brierley before," said Mr. Merl,
+affecting a flippant ease that was very remote from his heart.
+
+"Better late than never, sir," rejoined the other, coolly seating
+himself, and crossing his arms on his breast. "I have come here on the
+part of my friend Tom,--Mr. Magennis, I mean,--of Barnagheela, who told
+me to track you out."
+
+"Much obliged, I'm sure, for the attention," said Merl, with an assumed
+smartness.
+
+"That 's all right; so you should," continued Brierley. "Tom told
+me that you were present at Cro' Martin when he was outraged and
+insulted,--by a female of course, or he wouldn't be making a complaint
+of it now,--and as he is not the man that ever lay under a thing of the
+kind, or ever will, he sent me here to you, to arrange where you 'd like
+to have it, and when."
+
+"To have what?" asked Merl, with a look of unfeigned terror.
+
+"Baythershin! how dull we are!" said Mr. Brierley, with a finger to his
+very red nose. "Sure it's not thinking of the King's Bench you are, that
+you want me to speak clearer."
+
+"I want to know your meaning, sir,--if you have a meaning."
+
+"Be cool, honey; keep yourself cool. Without you happen to find that
+warmth raises your heart, I 'd say again, be cool. I've one simple
+question to ask you,"--here he dropped his voice to a low, cautious
+whisper,--"Will ye blaze?"
+
+"Will I what?" cried Merl.
+
+Mr. Brierley arose, and drawing himself up to his full height, extended
+his arm in the attitude of one taking aim with a pistol. "Eh!" cried he,
+"you comprehend me now, don't you?"
+
+"Fight--fight a duel!" exclaimed Merl, aloud.
+
+"Whisht! whisht! speak lower," said Brierley; "there's maybe a chap
+listening at the door this minute!"
+
+Accepting the intimation in a very different spirit from that in
+which it was offered, Merl rushed to the door, and threw it wide open.
+"Waiter!--landlord!--house!--waiter!" screamed he, at the top of his
+voice. And in an instant three or four slovenly-looking fellows, with
+dirty napkins in dirtier hands, surrounded him.
+
+"What is it, your honer?--what is it?" asked they, in a breath.
+
+"Don't you hear what the gentleman's asking for?" said Brierley, with a
+half-serious face. "He wants a chaise-to the door as quick as lightning.
+He 's off this minute."
+
+"Yes, by Jupiter! that I am," said Merl, wiping the perspiration from
+his forehead.
+
+"Take your last look at the West, dear, as you pass the Shannon, for I
+don't think you 'll ever come so far again," said Brierley, with a grin,
+as he moved by him to descend the stairs.
+
+"If I do, may--" But the slam of his room-door, and the rattle of the
+key as he locked it, cut short Mr. Merl's denunciation.
+
+In less than half an hour afterwards a yellow post-chaise left the
+"Martin Arms" at full speed, a wild yell of insult and derision greeting
+it as it swept by, showing how the Oughterard public appreciated its
+inmate!
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XX. SOMETHING NOT EXACTLY FLIRTATION.
+
+Most travelled reader, have you ever stood upon the plateau at the foot
+of the Alten-Schloss in Baden, just before sunset, and seen the golden
+glory spread out like a sheen over the vast plain beneath you, with
+waving forests, the meandering Rhine, and the blue Vosges mountains
+beyond all? It is a noble landscape, where every feature is bold, and
+throughout which light and shade alternate in broad, effective masses,
+showing that you are gazing on a scene of great extent, and taking in
+miles of country with your eye. It is essentially German, too, in its
+characteristics. The swelling undulations of the soil, the deep, dark
+forests, the picturesque homesteads, with shadowy eaves and carved
+quaint balconies, the great gigantic wagons slowly toiling through the
+narrow lanes, over which the "Lindens" spread a leafy canopy,--all are
+of the Vaterland.
+
+Some fancied resemblance--it was in reality no more--to a view from a
+window at Cro' Martin had especially endeared this spot to Martin, who
+regularly was carried up each evening to pass an hour or so, dreaming
+away in that half-unconsciousness to which his malady had reduced him.
+There he sat, scarcely a remnant of his former self, a leaden dulness
+in his eye, and a massive immobility in the features which once were
+plastic with every passing mood that stirred him. The clasped hands and
+slightly bent-down head gave a character of patient, unresisting meaning
+to his figure, which the few words he dropped from time to time seemed
+to confirm.
+
+At a little distance off, and on the very verge of the cliff, Kate
+Henderson was seated sketching; and behind her, occasionally turning to
+walk up and down the terraced space, was Massingbred, once more in full
+health, and bearing in appearance the signs of his old, impatient humor.
+Throwing away his half-smoked cigar, and with a face whose expression
+betokened the very opposite of all calm and ease of mind, he drew nigh
+to where she sat, and watched her over her shoulder. For a while she
+worked away without noticing his presence. At last she turned slightly
+about, and looking up at him, said, "You see, it's very nearly
+finished."
+
+[Illustration: 232]
+
+"Well, and what then?" asked he, bluntly.
+
+"Do you forget that I gave you until that time to change your opinion?
+that when I was shadowing in this foreground I said, 'Wait 'till I have
+done this sketch, and see if you be of the same mind,' and you agreed?"
+
+"This might be very pleasant trifling if nothing were at stake, Miss
+Henderson," said he; "but remember that I cannot hold all my worldly
+chances as cheaply as _you_ seem to do them."
+
+"Light another cigar, and sit down here beside me,--I don't dislike
+smoke, and it may, perchance, be a peace calumet between us; and let us
+talk, if possible, reasonably and calmly."
+
+He obeyed like one who seemed to feel that her word was a command, and
+sat down on the cliff at her side.
+
+"There, now," said she, "be useful; hold that color-case for me, and
+give me your most critical counsel. Do you like my sketch?"
+
+"Very much indeed."
+
+"Where do you find fault with it? There must be a fault, or your
+criticism is worth nothing."
+
+"Its greatest blemish in my eyes is the time it has occupied you. Since
+you began it you have very rarely condescended to speak of anything
+else."
+
+"A most unjust speech, and an ungrateful one. It was when throwing in
+those trees yonder, I persuaded you to recall your farewell address to
+your borough friends; it was the same day that I sketched that figure
+there, that I showed you the great mistake of your present life. There
+is no greater error, believe me, than supposing that a Parliamentary
+success, like a social one, can be achieved by mere brilliancy. Party
+is an army, and you must serve in the ranks before you can wear your
+epaulets."
+
+"I have told you already,--I tell you again,--I 'm tired of the theme
+that has myself alone for its object."
+
+"Of whom would you speak, then?" said she, still intently busied with
+her drawing.
+
+"You ask me when you know well of whom," said he, hurriedly. "Nay, no
+menaces; I could not if I would be silent. It is impossible for me any
+longer to continue this struggle with myself. Here now, before I leave
+this spot, you shall answer me--" He stopped suddenly, as though he had
+said more than he intended, or more than he well knew how to continue.
+
+"Go on," said she, calmly. And her fingers never trembled as they held
+the brush.
+
+"I confess I do envy that tranquil spirit of yours," said he, bitterly.
+"It is such a triumph to be calm, cold, and impassive at a moment when
+others feel their reason tottering and their brain a chaos."
+
+"There is nothing so easy, sir," said she, proudly. "All that I can
+boast of is not to have indulged in illusions which seem to have a charm
+for _you_. You say you want explicit-ness. You shall have it. There was
+one condition on which I offered you my friendship and my advice. You
+accepted the bargain, and we were friends. After a while you came and
+said that you rued your compact; that you discovered your feelings for
+me went further; that mere friendship, as you phrased it, would not
+suffice--"
+
+"I told you, rather," broke he in, "that I wished to put that feeling to
+the last test, by linking your fortune with my own forever."
+
+"Very well, I accept that version. You offered to make me your wife, and
+in return, I asked you to retract your words,--to suffer our relations
+to continue on their old footing, nor subject me to the necessity of an
+explanation painful to both of us. For a while you consented; now you
+seem impatient at your concession, and ask me to resume the subject. Be
+it so, but for the last time."
+
+Massingbred's cheeks grew deadly pale, but he never uttered a word.
+
+After a second's pause, she resumed: "Your affections are less engaged
+in this case than you think. You would make me your wife just as you
+would do anything else that gave a bold defiance to the world, to show
+a consciousness of your own power, to break down any obstacle, and make
+the prejudices or opinions of society give way before you. You have
+energy and self-esteem enough to make this succeed. Your wife--albeit
+the steward's daughter--the governess! would be received, invited,
+visited, and the rest of it; and so far as _you_ were concerned the
+triumph would be complete. Now, however, turn a little attention to the
+other side of the medal. What is to requite _me_ for all this courtesy
+on sufferance, all this mockery of consideration? Where am I to find my
+friendships, where even discover my duties? You only know of one kind
+of pride, that of station and social eminence. I can tell you there is
+another, loftier far,--the consciousness that no inequality of position
+can obliterate, what I feel and know in myself of superiority to those
+fine ladies whose favorable notice you would entreat for me. Smile at
+the vanity of this declaration if you like, sir, but, at least, own
+that I am consistent; for I am prouder in the independence of my present
+dependence than I should be in all the state of Mr. Massingbred's wife.
+You can see, therefore, that I could not accept this change as the great
+elevation you would deem it. You would be stooping to raise one who
+could never persuade herself that she was exalted. I am well aware that
+inequality of one sort or another is the condition of most marriages.
+The rank of one compensates for the wealth of the other. Here it is
+affluence and age, there it is beauty and poverty. People treat the
+question in a good commercial spirit, and balance the profit and loss
+like tradesfolk; but even in this sense our compact would be impossible,
+since _you_ would endow me with what has no value in my eyes, and _I_,
+worse off still, have absolutely nothing to give in return."
+
+"Give me your love, dearest Kate," cried he, "and, supported by that,
+you shall see that I deserve it. Believe me, it is your own proud spirit
+that exaggerates the difficulties that would await us in society."
+
+"I should scorn myself if I thought of them," broke she in, haughtily;
+"and remember, sir, these are not the words of one who speaks in
+ignorance. I, too, have seen that great world, on which your affections
+are so fixed. I have mixed with it, and know it. Notwithstanding all
+the cant of moralists, I do not believe it to be more hollow or
+more heartless than other classes. Its great besetting sin is not of
+self-growth, for it comes of the slavish adulation offered by those
+beneath it,--the grovelling worship of the would-be fine folk, who
+would leave friends and home and hearth to be admitted even to the
+antechambers of the great. They who offer up this incense are in my eyes
+far more despicable than they who accept the sacrifice; but I would not
+cast my lot with either. Do not smile, sir, as if these were high-flown
+sentiments; they are the veriest commonplaces of one who loves
+commonplace, who neither seeks affections with coronets nor friendships
+in gold coaches, but who would still less be of that herd--mute,
+astonished, and awe-struck--who worship them!"
+
+"You deem me, then, deficient in this same independence of spirit?"
+cried Massingbred, half indignantly.
+
+"I certainly do not accept your intention of marrying beneath you as a
+proof of it. Must I again tell you, sir, that in such cases it is the
+poor, weak, patient, forgotten woman pays all the penalty, and that, in
+the very conflict with the world the man has his reward?"
+
+"If you loved me, Kate," said he, in a tone of deep sorrow, "it is not
+thus you would discuss this question."
+
+She made no reply, but bending down lower over her drawing, worked away
+with increased rapidity.
+
+"Still," cried he, passionately, "I am not to be deterred by a defeat.
+Tell me, at least, how I can win that love, which is to me the great
+prize of life. You read my faults, you see my shortcomings clearly
+enough; be equally just, then, to anything there is of good or hopeful
+about me. Do this, Kate, and I will put my fate upon the issue."
+
+"In plain words," said she, calmly, "you ask me what manner of man I
+would consent to marry. I 'll tell you. One who with ability enough
+to attain any station, and talents to gain any eminence, has lived
+satisfied with that in which he was born; one who has made the
+independence of his character so felt by the world that his actions have
+been regarded as standards, a man of honor and of his word; employing
+his knowledge of life, not for the purposes of overreaching, but for
+self-correction and improvement; well bred enough to be a peer, simple
+as a peasant; such a man, in fact, as could afford to marry a governess,
+and, while elevating her to his station, never compromise his own with
+his equals. I don't flatter myself," said she, smiling, "that I 'm
+likely to draw this prize; but I console myself by thinking that I could
+not accept aught beneath it as great fortune. I see, sir, the humility
+of my pretensions amuses you, and it is all the better for both of us if
+we can treat these things jestingly."
+
+"Nay, Kate, you are unfair--unjust," broke in Mas-singbred.
+
+"Mr. Martin begins to feel it chilly, Miss Henderson," said a servant at
+this moment. "Shall we return to the hotel?"
+
+"Yes, by all means," said she, rising hastily. The next instant she
+was busily engaged shawling and muffling the sick man, who accepted her
+attentions with the submissive-ness of a child.
+
+"That will do, Molly, thank you, darling," said he, in a feeble voice;
+"you are so kind, so good to me."
+
+"The evening is fresh, sir, almost cold," said she.
+
+"Yes, dear, the climate is not what it used to be. We have cut down
+too many of those trees, Molly, yonder." And he pointed with his thin
+fingers towards the Rhine. "We have thinned the wood overmuch, but
+they'll grow again, dear, though I shall not be here to see them."
+
+"He thinks I am his niece," whispered Kate, "and fancies himself at Cro'
+Martin."
+
+"I suppose they'll advise my trying a warm country, Molly, a milder
+air," muttered he, as they slowly carried him along. "But home, after
+all, is home; one likes to see the old faces and the old objects around
+them,--all the more when about to leave them forever!" And as the last
+words came, two heavy tears stole slowly along his cheeks, and his
+pale lips quivered with emotion. Now speaking in a low, weak voice to
+himself, now sighing heavily, as though in deep depression, he was borne
+along towards the hotel. Nor did the gay and noisy groups which thronged
+the thoroughfares arouse him. He saw them, but seemed not to heed them.
+His dreary gaze wandered over the brilliant panorama without interest or
+speculation. Some painful and difficult thoughts, perhaps, did all these
+unaccustomed sights and sounds bring across his mind, embarrassing him
+to reconcile their presence with the scene he fancied himself beholding;
+but even these impressions were faint and fleeting.
+
+As they turned to cross the little rustic bridge in front of the hotel,
+a knot of persons moved off the path to make way for them, one of whom
+fixed his eyes steadily on the sick man, gazing with the keen scrutiny
+of intense interest; then suddenly recalling himself to recollection, he
+hastily retreated within the group.
+
+"You are right," muttered he to one near him, "he _is_ 'booked;' my bond
+will come due before the month ends."
+
+"And you'll be an estated gent, Herman, eh?" said a very dark-eyed,
+hook-nosed man at his side.
+
+"Well, I hope I shall act the part as well as my neighbors," said Mr.
+Merl, with that mingled assurance and humility that made up his manner.
+
+"Was n't that Massingbred that followed them,--he that made the famous
+speech the other day in Parliament?"
+
+"Yes," said Merl. "I 've got a bit of 'stiff' with his endorsement in my
+pocket this minute for one hundred and fifty."
+
+"What's it worth, Merl?"
+
+"Perhaps ten shillings; but I 'd not part with it quite so cheaply.
+He'll not always be an M.P., and we shall see if he can afford to
+swagger by an old acquaintance without so much as a 'How d' ye do?'"
+
+"There, he is coming back again," said the other. And at the same moment
+Massingbred walked slowly up to the spot, his easy smile upon his face,
+and his whole expression that of a careless, unburdened nature.
+
+"I just caught a glimpse of you as I passed, Merl," said he, with a
+familiar nod; "and you were exactly the man I wanted to see."
+
+"Too much honor, sir," said Merl, affecting a degree of haughty distance
+at the familiarity of this address.
+
+Massingbred smiled at the mock dignity, and went on; "I have something
+to say to you. Will you give me a call this evening at the Cour de Bade,
+say about nine or half-past?"
+
+"I have an engagement this evening."
+
+"Put it off, then, that's all, Master Merl, for mine is an important
+matter, and very nearly concerns yourself."
+
+Merl was silent. He would have liked much to display before his friends
+a little of the easy dash and swagger that he had just been exhibiting,
+to have shown them how cavalierly he could treat a rising statesman and
+a young Parliamentary star of the first order; but the question crossed
+him, Was it safe? what might the luxury cost him? "Am I to bring that
+little acceptance of yours along with me?" said he, in a half whisper,
+while a malicious sparkle twinkled in his eye.
+
+"Why not, man? Certainly, if it gives you the least pleasure in life;
+only don't be later than half-past nine." And with one of his sauciest
+laughs Massingbred moved away, leaving the Jew very far from content
+with "the situation."
+
+Merl, however, soon rallied. He had been amusing his friends, just
+before this interruption, with a narrative of his Irish journey: he now
+resumed the theme. All that he found faulty, all even that he deemed new
+or strange or unintelligible in that unhappy country, he had dressed up
+in the charming colors of his cockney vocabulary, and his hearers were
+worthy of him! There is but little temptation, however, to linger in
+their company, and so we leave them.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXI. LADY DOROTHEA
+
+The Cour de Bade, at which excellent hotel the Martins were installed,
+received on the day we have just chronicled a new arrival. He had come
+by the diligence, one of that undistinguishable ten thousand England
+sends off every week from her shores to represent her virtues or her
+vices, her oddities, vulgarities, and pretensions, to the critical eyes
+of continental Europe.
+
+Perfectly innocent of any foreign language, and with a delightful
+ambiguity as to the precise geography of where he stood, he succeeded,
+after some few failures, in finding out where the Martins stopped, and
+had now sent up his name to Lady Dorothea, that name being "Mr. Maurice
+Scanlan."
+
+Lady Dorothea Martin had given positive orders that except in the
+particular case of this individual she was not to be interrupted by any
+visitor. She glanced her eye at the card, and then handed it across the
+table to her son, who coolly read it, and threw it from him with the air
+of one saying to himself, "Here's more of it! more complication, more
+investigation, deeper research into my miserable difficulties, and
+consequently more unhappiness." The table at which they were seated was
+thickly covered with parchments, papers, documents, and letters of every
+shape and size. There were deeds, and bonds, and leases, rent-rolls,
+and valuations, and powers of attorney, and all the other imposing
+accessories of estated property. There were also voluminous bills of
+costs, formidable long columns of figures, "carried over" and "carried
+over" till the very eye of the reader wearied of the dread numerals and
+turned recklessly to meet the awful total at the bottom! Terrified by
+the menacing applications addressed to Mr. Martin on his son's account,
+and which arrived by every post, Lady Dorothea had resolved upon herself
+entering upon the whole state of the Captain's liabilities, as well as
+the complicated questions of the property generally.
+
+Distrust of her own powers was not in the number of her Ladyship's
+defects. Sufficiently affluent to be always able to surround herself
+with competent subordinates, she fancied--a not very uncommon error, by
+the way--that she individually accomplished all that she had obtained
+through another. Her taste in the fine arts, her skill in music, her
+excellence as a letter-writer, were all accomplishments in this wise;
+and it is not improbable that, had she been satisfied to accept her
+success in finance through a similar channel, the result might have
+proved just as fortunate. A shrinking dislike, however, to expose the
+moneyed circumstances of the family, and a feeling of dread as to the
+possible disclosures which should come out, prevented her from accepting
+such co-operation. She had, therefore, addressed herself to the task
+with no other aid than that of her son,--a partnership, it must be
+owned, which relieved her very little of her burden.
+
+Had the Captain been called away from the pleasures and amusements
+of life to investigate the dry records of some far-away cousin's
+embarrassments,--to dive into the wearisome narrative of
+money-borrowing, bill-renewing, and the rest of it, by one whom he had
+scarcely known or seen,--his manner and bearing could not possibly
+have betrayed stronger signs of utter weariness and apathy than he
+now exhibited. Smoking his cigar, and trimming his nails with a
+very magnificent penknife, he gave short and listless replies to her
+Ladyship's queries, and did but glance at the papers which from time to
+time she handed to him for explanation or inquiry.
+
+"So he is come at last!" exclaimed she, as the Captain threw down the
+visiting-card. "Shall we see him at once?"
+
+"By Jove! I think we've had enough of 'business,'as they call it, for
+one morning," cried he. "Here have we been since a little after eleven,
+and it is now four, and I am as sick of accounts and figures as though I
+were a Treasury clerk."
+
+"We have done next to nothing, after all!" said she, peevishly.
+
+"And I told you as much when you began," said he, lighting a fresh
+cigar. "There's no seeing one's way through these kind of things after
+the lapse of a year or two. Fordyce gets hold of the bills you gave
+Mossop, and Rawkins buys up some of the things you had given renewals
+for, and then all that trash you took in part payment of your
+acceptances turns up, some day or other, to be paid for; and what
+between the bills that never were to be negotiated--but somehow do get
+abroad--and the sums sent to meet others applied in quite a different
+direction, I'll lay eighty to fifty in tens or ponies there's no
+gentleman living ever mastered one of these embarrassments. One must be
+bred to it, my Lady, take my word for it. It's like being a crack rider
+or a poet,--it's born with a man. 'The Henderson,'" added he, after a
+pause, "she can do it, and I should like to see what she couldn't!"
+
+"I am curious to learn how you became acquainted with these financial
+abilities of Miss Henderson?" said Lady Dorothea, haughtily.
+
+"Simply enough. I was poring over these confounded accounts one day at
+Manheim, and I chanced to ask her a question,--something about compound
+interest, I think it was,--and so she came and looked over what I was
+doing, or rather endeavoring to do. It was that affair with Throgmorton,
+where I was to meet one third of the bills, and Merl and he were to
+look to the remainder; but there was a reservation that if Comus won the
+Oaks, I was to stand free--no, that's not it--if Comus won the double
+event--"
+
+"Never mind your stupid contract. What of Miss Henderson?" broke in Lady
+Dorothea.
+
+"Well, she came over, as I told you, and took up a pencil and began
+working away with all sorts of signs and crosses,--regular algebra, by
+Jove!--and in about five minutes out came the whole thing, all square,
+showing that I stood to win on either event, and came off splendidly
+if the double should turn up. 'I wish,' said I to her, 'you 'd just
+run your eye over my book and see how I stand.' She took it over to the
+fire, and before I could well believe she had glanced at it, she said:
+'This is all full of blunders. You have left yourself open to three
+casualties, any one of which will sweep away all your winnings. Take
+the odds on Roehampton, and lay on Slingsby a couple of hundred
+more,--three, if you can get it,--and you 'll be safe enough. And when
+you 've done that,' said she, 'I have another piece of counsel to give;
+but first say will you take it?' 'I give you my word upon it,' said
+I. 'Then it is this,' said she: 'make no more wagers on the turf. You
+haven't skill to make what is called a "good book," and you 'll always
+be a sufferer.'"
+
+"Did n't she vouchsafe to offer you her admirable assistance?" asked her
+Ladyship, with a sneer.
+
+"No, by Jove!" said he, not noticing the tone of sarcasm; "and when I
+asked her, 'Would not she afford me a little aid?' she quickly said,
+'Not on any account. You are now in a difficulty, and I willingly come
+forward to extricate you. Far different were the case should I conspire
+with you to place others in a similar predicament. Besides, I have your
+pledge that you have now done with these transactions, and forever.'"
+
+"What an admirable monitor! One only wonders how so much morality
+coexists with such very intimate knowledge of ignoble pursuits."
+
+"By Jove! she knows everything," broke in the Captain. "Such a canter as
+she gave me t' other morning about idleness and the rest of it, saying
+how I ought to study Hindostanee, and get a staff appointment, and
+so on,--that every one ought to place himself above the accidents of
+fortune; and when I said something about having no opportunity at hand,
+she replied, 'Never complain of that; begin with _me_. I know quite
+enough to initiate you; and as to Sanscrit, I 'm rather "up" in it.'"
+
+"I trust you accepted the offer?" said her Ladyship, with an ambiguous
+smile.
+
+"Well, I can't say I did. I hate work,--at least that kind of work.
+Besides, one doesn't like to come out 'stupid' in these kind of things,
+and so I merely said, 'I 'd think of it--very kind of her,' and so on."
+
+"Did it never occur to you all this while," began her Ladyship; and then
+suddenly correcting herself, she stopped short, and said, "By the way,
+Mr. Scanlan is waiting for his answer. Ring the bell, and let him come
+in."
+
+Perhaps it was the imperfect recollection of that eminent
+individual,--perhaps the altered circumstances in which she now saw him,
+and possibly some actual changes in the man himself,--but really Lady
+Dorothea almost started with surprise as he entered the room, dressed
+in a dark pelisse, richly braided and frogged, an embroidered
+travelling-cap in his hand, and an incipient moustache on his upper
+lip,--all evidencing how rapidly he had turned his foreign experiences
+to advantage. There was, too, in his address a certain confident
+assurance that told how quickly the habits of the "Table d'h�te" had
+impressed him, and how instantaneously his nature had imbibed the vulgar
+ease of the "Continent."
+
+"You have just arrived, Mr. Scanlan?" said her Ladyship, haughtily, and
+not a little provoked at the shake-hand salutation her son had accorded
+him.
+
+"Yes, my Lady, this instant, and such a journey as we 've had! No water
+on the Rhine for the steamers; and then, when we took to the land, a
+perfect deluge of rain, that nearly swept us away. At Eisleben, or some
+such name, we had an upset."
+
+"What day did you leave Ireland?" asked she, in utter indifference as to
+the casualty.
+
+"Tuesday fortnight last, my Lady. I was detained two days in Dublin
+making searches--"
+
+"Have you brought us any letters, sir?"
+
+"One from Miss Mary, my Lady, and another from Mr. Repton--very pressing
+he said it was. I hope Mr. Martin is better? Your Ladyship's last--"
+
+"Not much improvement," said she, stiffly, while her thin lips were
+compressed with an expression that might mean pride or sorrow, or both.
+
+"And the country, sir? How did you leave it looking?"
+
+"Pretty well, my Lady. More frightened than hurt, as a body might say.
+They 've had a severe winter, and a great deal of sickness; the rains,
+too, have done a deal of mischief; but on the whole matters are looking
+up again."
+
+"Will the rents be paid, sir?" asked she, sharply.
+
+"Indeed, I hope so, my Lady. Some, of course, will be backward, and beg
+for time, and a few more will take advantage of Magennis's success, and
+strive to fight us off."
+
+"There must have been some gross mismanagement in that business, sir,"
+broke in her Ladyship. "Had I been at home, I promise you the matter
+would have ended differently."
+
+"Mr. Repton directed all the proceedings himself, my Lady. He conferred
+with Miss Mary."
+
+"What could a young lady know about such matters?" said she, angrily.
+"Any prospect of a tenant for the house, sir?"
+
+"If your Ladyship really decides on not going back--"
+
+"Not the slightest intention of doing so, sir. If it depended upon
+me, I'd rather pull it down and sell the materials than return to live
+there. You know yourself, sir, the utter barbarism we were obliged to
+submit to. No intercourse with the world--no society--very frequently
+no communication by post. Surrounded by a set of ragged creatures, all
+importunity and idleness, at one moment all defiance and insolence, at
+the next crawling and abject. But it is really a theme I cannot dwell
+upon. Give me your letters, sir, and let me see you this evening." And
+taking the papers from his hand, she swept out of the room in a haughty
+state.
+
+The Captain and Mr. Scanlan exchanged looks, and were silent, but their
+glances were far more intelligible than aught either of them would have
+ventured to say aloud; and when the attorney's eyes, having followed her
+Ladyship to the door, turned and rested on the Captain, the other gave a
+brief short nod of assent, as though to say, "Yes, you are right; she's
+just the same as ever."
+
+"And _you_, Captain," said Scanlan, in his tone of natural
+familiarity,--"how is the world treating _you?_"
+
+"Devilish badly, Master Scanlan."
+
+"Why, what is it doing, then?"
+
+"I'll tell you what it's doing! It's charging me fifty--ay, sixty per
+cent; it's protesting my bills, stimulating my blessed creditors to
+proceed against me, worrying my very life out of me with letters.
+Letters to the governor, letters to the Horse Guards, and, last of all,
+it has just lamed Bonesetter, the horse 'I stood to win' on for the
+Chester Cup, I would n't have taken four thousand for my book yesterday
+morning!"
+
+"Bad news all this."
+
+"I believe you," said he, lighting a cigar, and throwing another across
+the table to Scanlan. "It's just bad news, and I have nothing else for
+many a long day past. A fellow of your sort, Master Maurice, punting
+away at county races and small sweepstakes, has a precious deal better
+time of it than a captain of the King's Hussars with his head and
+shoulders in the Fleet."
+
+"Come, come, who knows but luck will turn, Captain? Make a book on the
+Oaks."
+
+"I've done it; and I'm in for it, too," said the other, savagely.
+
+"Raise a few thousands, you can always sell a reversion."
+
+"I have done that also," said he, still more angrily.
+
+"With your position and advantages you could always marry well. If you'd
+just beat up the manufacturing districts, you'd get your eighty thousand
+as sure as I'm here! And then matrimony admits of a man's changing all
+his habits. He can sell off hunters, get rid of a racing stable, and
+twenty other little embarrassments, and only gain character by the
+economy."
+
+"I don't care a brass farthing for that part of the matter, Scanlan. No
+man shall dictate to me how I 'm to spend my money. Do you just find me
+the tin, and I 'll find the talent to scatter it."
+
+"If it can't be done by a post-obit--"
+
+"I tell you, sir," cried Martin, peevishly, "as I have told you before,
+that has been done. There is such a thing as pumping a well dry, is n't
+there?"
+
+Scanlan made a sudden exclamation of horror; and after a pause, said,
+"Already!"
+
+"Ay, sir, already!"
+
+"I had my suspicions about it," muttered Scanlan, gloomily.
+
+"You had? And how so, may I beg to ask?" said Martin, angrily.
+
+"I saw him down there, myself."
+
+"Saw whom? Whom are you talking of?"
+
+"Of that Jew, of course. Mr. Merl, he calls himself."
+
+A faint groan was all Martin's reply, as he turned away to hide his
+face.
+
+Scanlan watched him for a minute or so, and then resumed: "I guessed
+at once what he was at; _he_ never deceived me, talking about snipe and
+woodcocks, and pretending to care about hare-hunting. I saw my man at a
+glance. 'It's not sporting ever brought you down to these parts,' said
+I. '_Your_ game is young fellows, hard up for cash, willing to give up
+their birthright for a few thousands down, and never giving a second
+thought whether they paid twenty per cent, or a hundred and twenty.'
+Well, well, Captain, you ought to have told me all about it. There
+wasn't a man in Ireland could have putted you through like myself."
+
+"How do you mean?" cried Martin, hurriedly.
+
+"Sure, when he was down in the West, what was easier? Faix, if I had
+only had the wind of a word that matters were so bad, I 'd have had
+the papers out of him long ago. You shake your head as if you did n't
+believe me; but take my word for it, I 'm right, sir. I 'd put a quarrel
+on him."
+
+"_He'd_ not fight you!" said Martin, turning away in disappointment.
+
+"Maybe he wouldn't; but mightn't he be robbed? Couldn't he be waylaid,
+and carried off to the Islands? There was no need to kill him.
+Intimidation would do it all! I'd lay my head upon a block this minute
+if I would n't send him back to London without the back of a letter
+in his company; and what's more, a pledge that he 'd never tell what's
+happened to him!"
+
+"These cockney gents are more 'wide awake' than you suspect, Master
+Maurice, and the chances are that he never carried a single paper or
+parchment along with him."
+
+"Worse for him, then," said Scanlan. "He'd have to pass the rest of
+his days in the Arran Islands. But I'm not so sure he's as 'cute as you
+think him," added Maurice, after a pause. "He left a little note-book
+once behind him that told some strange stories, by all accounts."
+
+"What was that you speak of?" cried Martin, eagerly.
+
+"I did n't see it myself, but Simmy Crow told me of it; and that it was
+full of all the fellows he ruined,--how much he won from this man, what
+he carried off from that; and, moreover, there was your own name, and
+the date of the very evening that he finished you off! It was something
+in this wise: 'This night's work makes me an estated gentleman, _vice_
+Harry Martin, Esquire, retired upon less than half-pay!'"
+
+A terrible oath, uttered in all the vehemence of a malediction, burst
+from Martin, and seizing Scanlan's wrist, he shook his arm in an agony
+of passion.
+
+"I wish I had given you a hint about him, Master Scanlan," said he,
+savagely.
+
+"It's too late to think of it now, Captain," said the other; "the fellow
+is in Baden."
+
+"Here?" asked Martin.
+
+"Ay. He came up the Rhine along with me; but he never recognized me,--on
+account of my moustaches perhaps,--he took me for a Frenchman or a
+German, I think. We parted at Mayence, and I saw no more of him."
+
+"I would that I was to see no more of him!" said Martin, gloomily, as he
+walked into another room, banging the door heavily behind him.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXII. HOW PRIDE MEETS PRIDE
+
+Kate Henderson sat alone in her room reading a letter from her father,
+her thoughtful brow a shade more serious perhaps than its wont, and at
+times a faint, half-sickly smile moving her dimpled cheek. The interests
+of our story have no concern with that letter, save passingly, nor do
+we regret it. Enough, if we say it was in reply to one of her own,
+requesting permission to return home, until, as she phrased it, she
+could "obtain another service." That the request had met scant favor was
+easy to see, as, folding up the letter, she laid it down beside her with
+a sigh and a muttered "I thought as much!--'So long as her Ladyship
+is pleased to accept of your services,'" said she, repeating aloud an
+expression of the writer. "Well, I suppose he's right; such is the true
+reading of the compact, as it is of every compact where there is wealth
+on one side, dependence on the other! Nor should I complain," said
+she, still more resolutely, "if these same services could be rendered
+toilfully, but costing nothing of self-sacrifice in honorable feeling. I
+could be a drudge--a slave--to-morrow; I could stoop to any labor; but I
+cannot--no, I cannot--descend to companionship! They who hire us," cried
+she, rising, and pacing the room in slow and measured tread, "have a
+right to our capacity. We are here to do their bidding; but they can
+lay no claim to that over which we ourselves have no control--our
+sympathies, our affections--we cannot sell these; we cannot always give
+them, even as a gift." She paused, and opening the letter, read it for
+some seconds, and then flinging it down with a haughty gesture, said,
+"'Nothing menial--nothing to complain of in my station!' Can he not see
+that there is no such servitude as that which drags out existence, by
+subjecting, not head and hands, but heart and soul, to the dictates of
+another? The menial--the menial has the best of it. Some stipulate that
+they are not to wear a livery; but what livery exacts such degradation
+as this?" And she shook the rich folds of her heavy silk dress as she
+spoke. The tears rose up and dimmed her eyes, but they were tears of
+offended pride, and as they stole slowly along her cheeks, her features
+acquired an expression of intense haughtiness. "They who train their
+children to this career are but sorry calculators!--educating them but
+to feel the bitter smart of their station, to see more clearly the wide
+gulf that separates them from what they live amongst!" said she, in a
+voice of deep emotion.
+
+"Her Ladyship, Miss Henderson," said a servant, throwing wide the door,
+and closing it after the entrance of Lady Dorothea, who swept into
+the room in her haughtiest of moods, and seated herself with all that
+preparation that betokened a visit of importance.
+
+"Take a seat, Miss Henderson," said she. And Kate obeyed in silence.
+"If in the course of what I shall have to say to you," resumed her
+Ladyship,--"if in what I shall feel it my _duty_ to say to you, I may
+be betrayed into any expression stronger than in a calmer moment would
+occur to me,--stronger in fact, than strict justice might warrant--"
+
+"I beg your Ladyship's pardon if I interrupt, but I would beg to
+remark--"
+
+"What?" said Lady Dorothea, proudly.
+
+"That simply your Ladyship's present caution is the best security for
+future propriety. I ask no other."
+
+"You presume too far, young lady. I cannot answer that _my_ temper may
+not reveal sentiments that my judgment or my breeding might prefer to
+keep in abeyance."
+
+"If the sentiments be there, my Lady, I should certainly say, better to
+avow them," said Kate, with an air of most impassive coldness.
+
+"I 'm not aware that I have asked your advice on that head, Miss
+Henderson," said she, almost insolently. "At the same time, your habits
+of late in this family may have suggested the delusion."
+
+"Will your Ladyship pardon me if I confess I do not understand you?"
+
+"You shall have little to complain of on that score, Miss Henderson;
+I shall not speak in riddles, depend upon it. Nor should that be an
+obstacle if your intelligence were only the equal of your ambition."
+
+"Now, indeed, is your Ladyship completely beyond me."
+
+"Had you felt that I was as much 'above' you, Miss Henderson, it were
+more to the purpose."
+
+"I sincerely hope that I have never forgotten all the deference I owe
+your Ladyship," said Kate. Nor could humble words have taken a more
+humble accent; and yet they availed little to conciliate her to whom
+they were addressed; nay, this very humility seemed to irritate and
+provoke her to a greater show of temper, as with an insolent laugh she
+said,--"This mockery of respect never imposed on we, young lady. I have
+been bred and born in a rank where real deference is so invariable that
+the fictitious article is soon detected, had there been any hardy enough
+to attempt it."
+
+Kate made no other answer to this speech than a deep inclination of her
+head. It might mean assent, submission, anything.
+
+"You may remember, Miss Henderson," said her Ladyship, with all the
+formality of a charge in her manner,--"you may remember that on the day
+I engaged your services you were obliging enough to furnish me with a
+brief summary of your acquirements." She paused, as if expecting some
+intimation of assent, and after an interval of a few seconds, Kate
+smiled, and said,--"It must have been a very meagre catalogue, my Lady."
+
+"Quite the reverse. It was a perfect marvel to me how you ever
+found time to store your mind with such varied information; and yet,
+notwithstanding that imposing array of accomplishments, I now find that
+your modesty--perhaps out of deference to my ignorance--withheld fully
+as many more."
+
+Kate's look of bewilderment at this speech was the only reply she made.
+
+"Oh, of course you do not understand me," said Lady Dorothea,
+sneeringly; "but I mean to be most explicit. Have you any recollection
+of the circumstance I allude to?"
+
+"I remember perfectly the day, madam, I waited on you for the first
+time."
+
+"That's exactly what I mean. Now, pray, has any portion of our discourse
+dwelt upon your mind?"
+
+"Yes, my Lady; a remark of your Ladyship's made a considerable
+impression upon me at the moment, and has continued frequently to rise
+to my recollection since that."
+
+"May I ask what it was?"
+
+"It was with reference to the treatment I had been so long accustomed
+to in the family of the Duchesse de Luygnes, and which your Ladyship
+characterized by an epithet I have never forgotten. At the time I
+thought it severe; I have learned to see it just. You called it an
+'irreparable mischief.' Your Ladyship said most truly."
+
+"I was never more convinced of the fact than at this very moment," said
+Lady Dorothea, as a flush of anger covered her cheek. "The ill-judging
+condescension of your first protectors has left a very troublesome
+legacy for their successors. Your youth and inexperience--I do not
+desire to attribute it to anything more reprehensible--led you,
+probably, into an error regarding the privileges you thus enjoyed, and
+you fancied that you owed to your own claims what you were entirely
+indebted to from the favor of others."
+
+"I have no doubt that the observation of your Ladyship is quite
+correct," said Kate, calmly.
+
+"I sincerely wish that the conviction had impressed itself upon your
+conduct then," said Lady Dorothea, whose temper was never so outraged
+as by the other's self-possession. "Had such been the case, I might have
+spared myself the unpleasantness of my present task." Her passion
+was now fully roused, and with redoubled energy she continued:
+"Your ambition has taken a high flight, young lady, and, from the
+condescension by which I accorded you a certain degree of influence
+in this family, you have aspired to become its head. Do not
+affect any misconception of my meaning. My son has told me
+everything--everything--from your invaluable aid to him in his pecuniary
+difficulties, to your sage counsels on his betting-book; from the
+admirable advice you gave him as to his studies, to the disinterested
+offer of your own tuition. Be assured if _he_ has not understood all the
+advantages so generously presented to him, I, at least, appreciate them
+fully. I must acknowledge you have played your game cleverly, and you
+have made the mock independence of your character the mask of your
+designs. With another than myself you might have succeeded, too,"
+said her Ladyship, with a smile of bitter irony; "but _I_ have few
+self-delusions, Miss Henderson, nor is there amongst the number that of
+believing that any one serves me, in any capacity, from any devotion
+to my own person. I natter myself, at least, that I have so much of
+humility."
+
+"If I understand your Ladyship aright, I am charged with some designs on
+Captain Martin?" said Kate, calmly.
+
+"Yes; precisely so," said Lady Dorothea, haughtily.
+
+"I can only protest that I am innocent of all such, my Lady," said she,
+with an expression of great deference. "It is a charge that does not
+admit of any other refutation, since, if I appeal to my conduct, your
+Ladyship's suspicions would not exculpate me."
+
+"Certainly not."
+
+"I thought so. What, then, can I adduce? I'm sure your Ladyship's
+own delicacy will see that this is not a case where testimony can be
+invoked. I cannot--you would not ask me to--require an acquittal from
+the lips of Captain Martin himself; humble as I stand here, my Lady, you
+never could mean to expose me to this humiliation." For the first time
+did her voice falter, and a sickly paleness came over her as she uttered
+the last words.
+
+"The humiliation which you had intended for this family, Miss Henderson,
+is alone what demands consideration from _me_. If what you call your
+exculpation requires Captain Martin's presence, I confess I see no
+objection to it."
+
+"It is only, then, because your Ladyship is angry with me that you could
+bring yourself to think so, especially since another and much easier
+solution of the difficulty offers itself."
+
+"How so? What do you mean?"
+
+"To send me home, madam."
+
+"I understand you, young lady. I am to send you back to your father's
+house as one whose presence here was too dangerous, whose attractions
+could only be resisted by means of absence and distance. A very
+interesting martyrdom might have been made of it, I 've no doubt, and
+even some speculation as to the conduct of a young gentleman so suddenly
+bereaved of the object of his affections. But all this is much too
+dignified for me. _My_ son shall be taught to respect himself without
+the intervention of any contrivance."
+
+[Illustration: 256]
+
+As she uttered the last words, she arose and approached the bell.
+
+"Your Ladyship surely is not going--"
+
+"I am going to send for Captain Martin, Miss Henderson."
+
+"Do not, I entreat of you,--I implore your Ladyship," cried Kate, with
+her clasped hands trembling as she spoke.
+
+"This agitation is not without a cause, and would alone decide me to
+call for my son."
+
+"If I have ever deserved well at your hands, my Lady,--if I have served
+you faithfully in anything,--if my devotion has lightened you of one
+care, or aided you through one difficulty,--spare me, oh, spare me, I
+beseech you, this--degradation!"
+
+"I have a higher consideration to consult here, Miss Henderson, than
+any which can have reference to you." She pulled the bell violently, and
+while her hand still held the cord, the servant entered. "Tell Captain
+Martin to come here," said she, and sat down.
+
+Kate leaned her arm upon the chimney-piece, and, resting her head on it,
+never uttered a word.
+
+For several minutes the silence was unbroken on either side. At last
+Lady Dorothea started suddenly, and said,--"We cannot receive Captain
+Martin here."
+
+"Your Ladyship is full of consideration," said Kate, bitterly. "For a
+moment I had thought it was only an additional humiliation to which you
+had destined me."
+
+"Follow me into the drawing-room, Miss Henderson," said Lady Dorothea,
+proudly, as she left the room. And with slow, submissive mien Kate
+quitted the chamber, and walked after her.
+
+Scarcely had the door of the drawing-room been closed upon them than it
+was re-opened to admit Captain Martin. He was booted and spurred for
+his afternoon canter, and seemed in no wise pleased at the sudden
+interruption to his project.
+
+"They said you wanted me," cried he; "and here have I been searching for
+you in your dressing-room, and all over the house."
+
+"I desire to speak with you," said she, proudly; and she motioned to a
+chair.
+
+"I trust the _s�ance_ is to be a brief one, otherwise I 'll beg a
+postponement," said he, half laughingly. Then turning his glance towards
+Kate, he remarked for the first time the deathlike color of her face,
+and an expression of repressed suffering that all her self-control
+could not conceal. "Has anything happened? What is it?" said he, in a
+half-whisper.
+
+But she never replied, nor even seemed to heed his question.
+
+"Tell me, I beseech you," cried he, turning to Lady Dorothea,--"tell me,
+has anything gone wrong?"
+
+"It is precisely on that account I have sent for you, Captain Martin,"
+said her Ladyship, as she assigned to him a seat with a motion of her
+hand. "It is because a great deal has gone wrong here--and were it not
+for my vigilance, much more still likely to follow it--I have sent for
+you, sir, that you should hear from this young lady's lips a denial
+which, I own, has not satisfied _me_; nor shall it, till it be made
+in your presence and meet with your corroboration. Your looks, Miss
+Henderson," said she, addressing her, "would imply that all the
+suffering of the present moment falls to _your_ share; but I would beg
+you to bear in mind what a person in _my_ sphere must endure at the bare
+possibility of the event which now demands investigation."
+
+"Good heavens! will not you tell me what it is?" exclaimed Martin, in
+the last extremity of impatience.
+
+"I have sent for you, sir," resumed she, "that you should hear Miss
+Henderson declare that no attentions on your part--no assiduities, I
+should perhaps call them--have ever been addressed to her; that, in
+fact"--here her Ladyship became embarrassed in her explanation,--"that,
+in fact, those counsels--those very admirable aids to your conduct
+which she on so many occasions has vouchsafed to afford you--have had
+no object--no ulterior object, I should perhaps call it--and that
+your--your intercourse has ever been such as beseems the heir of Cro'
+Martin, and the daughter of the steward on that property!"
+
+"By Jove, I can make nothing of all this!" cried the Captain, whose
+bewildered looks fully corroborated the assertion.
+
+"Lady Dorothea, sir, requires you to assure her that I have never
+made love to you," said Kate Henderson, with a look of scorn that her
+Ladyship did not dare to reply to. "_I_," added she, "have already given
+my pledge on this subject. I trust that your testimony will not gainsay
+me."
+
+"Confound me if I can fathom it at all!" said he, more distracted than
+ever. "If you are alluding to the offer I made you--"
+
+"The offer you made," cried Lady Dorothea. "When?--how?--in what wise?"
+
+"No, no, I will speak out," said he, addressing Kate. "I am certain
+_you_ never divulged it; but I cannot accept that all the honorable
+dealing should be on one side only. Yes, my Lady, however you learned
+it, I cannot guess, but it is perfectly true; I asked Miss Henderson to
+be my wife, and she refused me."
+
+A low, faint sigh broke from Lady Dorothea, and she fell back into her
+chair.
+
+"She would have it,--it's not my fault,--you are witness it's not,"
+muttered he to Kate. But she motioned him in silence to the door, and
+then opening the window, that the fresh air might enter, stood silently
+beside the chair.
+
+A slight shivering shook her; and Lady Dorothea--her cheeks almost
+lividly pale--raised her eyes and fixed them on Kate Henderson.
+
+"You have had your triumph!" said she, in a low but firm voice.
+
+"I do not feel it such, madam," said Kate, calmly. "Nor is it in a
+moment of humiliation like this that a thought of triumph can enter."
+
+"Hear me,--stoop down lower. You can leave this--tomorrow, if you wish
+it."
+
+Kate bowed slowly in acquiescence.
+
+"I have no need to ask you that what has occurred here should never be
+mentioned."
+
+"You may trust me, madam."
+
+"I feel that I may. There--I am better--quite well, now! You may leave
+me." Kate courtesied deeply, and moved towards the door. "One word
+before you go. Will you answer me one question? I'll ask but one; but
+your answer must be full, or not at all."
+
+"So it shall be, madam. What is it?"
+
+"I want to know the reason--on what grounds--you declined the proposal
+of my son?"
+
+"For the same good reason, madam, that should have prevented his ever
+making it."
+
+"Disparity--inequality of station, you mean?"
+
+"Something like it, madam. Our union would have been both a blunder
+and a paradox. Each would have married beneath him!" And once more
+courtesying, and with an air of haughty dignity, Kate withdrew, and left
+her Ladyship to her own thoughts.
+
+Strange and conflicting were the same thoughts; at one moment
+stimulating her to projects of passionate vengeance, at the next
+suggesting the warmest measures of reconciliation and affection. These
+indeed predominated, for in her heart pride seemed the emblem of all
+that was great, noble, or exalted; and when she saw that sentiment,
+not fostered by the accidents of fortune, not associated with birth,
+lineage, and high station, but actually rising superior to the absence
+of all these, she almost felt a species of worship for one so gloriously
+endowed.
+
+"She might be a duchess!" was the only speech she uttered, and the words
+revealed a whole volume of her meditations. It was curious enough
+how completely all recollection of her son was merged and lost in the
+greater interest Kate's character supplied. But so is it frequently in
+life. The traits which most resemble our own are those we alone attach
+importance to, and what we fancy admiration of another is very often
+nothing more than the gratified contemplation of ourselves.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIII. MAURICE SCANLAN ADVISES WITH "HIS COUNSEL"
+
+Jack Massingbred sat in expectation of Mr. Merl's arrival till nigh ten
+o'clock; and if not manifesting any great degree of impatience at the
+delay, still showing unmistakable signs of uneasiness, as though the
+event were not destitute of some cause for anxiety. At last a note
+arrived to say that a sudden and imperative necessity to start at once
+for England would prevent Mr. Merl from keeping his appointment. "I
+shall be in town by Tuesday," continued the writer, "and if Captain
+Martin has any communication to make to me respecting his affairs, let
+it be addressed to Messrs. Twining and Scape's, solicitors, Furnival's
+Inn. I hope that with regard to your own matter, you will make suitable
+provision for the acceptance due on the ninth of next month. Any further
+renewal would prove a great inconvenience to yours
+
+"Very sincerely and to command,
+
+"Herman Merl."
+
+"Negotiations have ended ere they were opened, and war is proclaimed at
+once," said Massingbred, as he read over this brief epistle. "You may
+come forth, Master Scanlan," added he, opening the door of his bedroom,
+and admitting that gentleman. "Our Hebrew is an overmatch for us. He
+declines to appear."
+
+"Why so? How is that?" asked Scanlan.
+
+"There 's his note," said the other; "read and digest it."
+
+"This smacks of suspicion," said Scanlan. "He evidently suspects that we
+have concerted some scheme to entangle him, and he is resolved not to be
+caught."
+
+"Precisely; he 'll do nothing without advice. Well, well, if he but knew
+how unprepared we are, how utterly deficient not only in resources,
+but actually in the commonest information of our subject, he might have
+ventured here in all safety."
+
+"Has Captain Martin not put you in possession of the whole case, then?"
+
+"Why, my good Scanlan, the Captain knows nothing, actually nothing, of
+his difficulties. He has, it is true, a perfect conviction that he is
+out of his depth; but whether he be in five fathom water or fifty, he
+doesn't know; and, what 's stranger, he does n't care!"
+
+"After all, if it be over his head, I suppose it's pretty much the same
+thing," said Scanlan, with a bitter laugh.
+
+"I beg to offer my dissent to that doctrine," said Mas-singbred, gently.
+"Where the water is only just out of a man's depth, the shore is usually
+not very distant. Now, if we were quite certain such were the case here,
+we might hope to save him. If, on the contrary, he has gone down out
+of all sight of land--" He stopped, gazed steadily at Scanlan for a few
+seconds, and then in a lower tone, not devoid of a touch of anxiety,
+said, "Eh, do you really know this to be so?"
+
+"I'll tell you all I know, Mr. Massingbred," said he, as having turned
+the key in the door, he took his seat at the table. "And I 'll tell you,
+besides, how I came by the knowledge, and I 'll leave it to your own
+judgment to say what his chance is worth. When Merl was stopping at
+Kilkieran, he left there a little pocket-book, with memorandums of all
+his secret transactions. Mighty nice doings they were,--and profitable,
+too,--as you 'll perceive when you look over it."
+
+"You have it, then," cried Jack, eagerly.
+
+"Here it is," said he, producing the precious volume, and laying his
+hand firmly on it. "Here it is now. I got it under a pledge to hand
+it to himself, which I need n't tell you I never had the slightest
+intention of performing. It's not every day in the week one has the good
+luck to get a peep into the enemy's brief, and this is exactly what you
+'ll find here."
+
+Massingbred stretched out his hand to take the book, but Scanlan quietly
+replaced it in his pocket, and, with a dry and very peculiar smile,
+said,--"Have a little patience, sir. We must go regularly to work here.
+You shall see this book--you shall examine it--and even retain it--but
+it must be on conditions." "Oh, you may confide in me, Scanlan. Even
+if Mr. Merl were my friend,--which I assure you he is not,--I could not
+venture to betray _you_."
+
+"That's not exactly what I 'm thinking of, Mr. Massingbred. I 'm certain
+you 'd say nothing to Merl of what you saw here. My mind is easy enough
+upon that score."
+
+"Well, then, in what direction do your suspicions point?"
+
+"They 're not suspicions, sir," was the dry response.
+
+"Fears,--hesitations,--whatever you like to call them."
+
+"Are we on honor here, Mr. Massingbred?" said Scanlan, after a pause.
+
+"For myself, I say decidedly so," was the firm reply.
+
+"That will do, sir. I ask only one pledge, and I 'm sure you 'll not
+refuse it: if you should think, on reflection, that what I propose to
+you this evening is neither practicable nor advisable,--that, in fact,
+you could neither concur in it nor aid it,--that you'll never, so long
+as you live, divulge it to any one,--man, woman, or child. Have I that
+promise?"
+
+"I think I may safely say that."
+
+"Ay, but do you say it?"
+
+"I do; here is my promise."
+
+"That will do. I don't ask a word more. Now, Mr. Massingbred," said he,
+replacing the book on the table, "I 'll tell you in the fewest words I
+can how the case stands,--and brevity is essential, for we have not an
+hour to lose. Merl is gone to London about this business, and we
+'ll have to follow him. _He 'd_ be very glad to be rid of the affair
+to-morrow, and he 'll not waste many days till he is so. Read that bit
+there, sir," said he, pointing to a few closely written lines in the
+note-book.
+
+"Good heavens!" cried Jack, "this is downright impossible. This is a
+vile falsehood, devised for some infernal scheme of roguery. Who 'd
+believe such a trumpery piece of imposition? Ah, Scanlan, you are not
+the wily fellow I took you for. This same precious note-book was
+dropped as a decoy, as I once knew a certain noble lord to have left his
+betting-book behind him. An artful device, that can only succeed once,
+however. And you really believed all this?"
+
+"I did, and I do believe it," said Scanlan, firmly.
+
+"If you really say so, we must put the matter to the test. Captain
+Martin is here,--we 'll send for him, and ask him the question; but I
+must say I don't think your position will be a pleasant one after that
+reply is given."
+
+"I must remind you of your promise already, it seems," said Scanlan.
+"You are pledged to say nothing of this, if you cannot persuade yourself
+to act along with me in it."
+
+"Very true," said Massingbred, slowly; "but I never pledged myself to
+credit an impossibility."
+
+"I ask nothing of the kind. I only claim that you should adhere to what
+you have said already. If this statement be untrue, all my speculations
+about it fall to the ground at once. I am the dupe of a stale trick, and
+there's an end of it."
+
+"Ay, so far all well, Master Scanlan; but _I_ have no fancy to be
+associated in the deception. Can't you see that?"
+
+"I can, sir, and I do. But perhaps there may be a readier way of
+satisfying your doubts than calling for the Captain's evidence. There is
+a little page in this same volume devoted to one Mr. Massingbred. _You_
+surely may have some knowledge about _his_ affairs. Throw your eye over
+that, sir, and say what you think of it."
+
+Massingbred took the book in his hand and perused the place pointed out
+to him.
+
+"By Jove! this _is_ very strange," said he, after a pause. "Here is my
+betting-book on the St. Hubert all transcribed in full,--however the Jew
+boy got hold of it; and here 's mention of a blessed hundred-pound note,
+which, in less than five years, has grown to upwards of a thousand!"
+
+"And all true? All fact?"
+
+"Perfectly true,--most lamentable fact, Master Scanlan!
+How precise the scoundrel is in recording this loan as 'after supper at
+Dubos'!' Ay, and here again is my unlucky wager about Martingale for
+the 'Chester,' and the handicap with Armytage. Scanlan, I recant my
+rash impression. This is a real work of its great author! _Aut Merl--aut
+Diabolus_."
+
+"I could have sworn it," said Scanlan.
+
+"To be sure you could, man, and have done, ere this time o' day, fifty
+other things on fainter evidence. But let me tell you it requires strong
+testimony to make one believe that there should live such a consummate
+fool in the world as would sell his whole reversionary right to a
+splendid state of some twelve thousand--"
+
+"Fifteen at the lowest," broke in Scanlan.
+
+"Worse again. Fifteen thousand a year for twenty-two thousand seven
+hundred and sixty-four pounds sterling."
+
+"And he has done it."
+
+"No, no; the thing is utterly incredible, man. Any one must see that
+if he did want to make away with his inheritance, that he could have
+obtained ten, twenty times that sum amongst the tribe of Merl."
+
+"No doubt, if he were free to negotiate the transaction. But you 'll
+see, on looking over these pages, in what a network of debt he was
+involved,--how, as early as four years ago, at the Cape, he owed Merl
+large sums, lost at play, and borrowed at heavy interest. So that,
+at length, this same twenty-two thousand, assumed as paid for the
+reversion, was in reality but the balance of an immense demand for money
+lost, bills renewed, sums lent, debts discharged, and so on. But to
+avoid the legal difficulty of an 'immoral obligation,' the bale of the
+reversion is limited to this simple payment of twenty-two thousand--"
+
+"Seven hundred and sixty-four pounds, sir. Don't let us diminish the
+price by a fraction," said Massingbred. "Wonderful people ye are, to be
+sure; and whether in your talent for savings, or dislike for sausages,
+alike admirable and praiseworthy! What a strange circle do events
+observe, and how irrevocable is the law of the material, the stern rule
+of the moral world, decay, decomposition, and regeneration following
+on each other; and as great men's ashes beget grubs, so do illustrious
+houses generate in their rottenness the race of Herman Merls."
+
+Scanlan tried to smile at the rhapsodical conceit, but for some private
+reason of his own he did not relish nor enjoy it.
+
+"So, then, according to the record," said Massingbred, holding up the
+book, "there is an end of the 'Martins of Cro' Martin'?"
+
+"That's it, sir, in one word."
+
+"It is too shocking--too horrible to believe," said Mas-singbred, with
+more of sincerity than his manner usually displayed. "Eh, Scanlan,--is
+it not so?" added he, as waiting in vain for some show of concurrence.
+
+"I believe, however," said the other, "it's the history of every great
+family's downfall: small liabilities growing in secrecy to become heavy
+charges, severe pressure exerted by those out of whose pockets came
+eventually the loans to meet the difficulties,--shrewdness and rapacity
+on one side, folly and wastefulness on the other."
+
+"Ay, ay; but who ever heard of a whole estate disposed of for less than
+two years of its rental?"
+
+"That's exactly the case, sir," said he, in the same calm tone as
+before; "and what makes matters worse, we have little time to look out
+for expedients. Magennis will put us on our title at the new trial
+next assizes. Merl will take fright at the insecurity of his claim, and
+dispose of it,--Heaven knows to whom,--perhaps to that very league now
+formed to raise litigation against all the old tenures."
+
+"Stop, stop, Scanlan! There is quite enough difficulty before us,
+without conjuring up new complications," cried Massingbred. "Have you
+anything to suggest? What ought to be done here?"
+
+Scanlan was silent, and leaning his head on his hand seemed lost in
+thought.
+
+"Come, Scanlan, you 've thought over all this ere now. Tell me, man,
+what do you advise?"
+
+Scanlan was silent.
+
+"Out with it, Scanlan. I know, I feel that you have a resource in store
+against all these perils! Out with it, man."
+
+"Have I any need to remind you of your promise, Mr. Massingbred?" asked
+the other, stealthily.
+
+"Not the slightest, Scanlan. I never forget a pledge."
+
+"Very well, sir; that's enough," said Scanlan, speaking rapidly, and
+like one anxious to overcome his confusion by an effort. "We have just
+one thing to do. We must buy out Merl. Of course as reasonably as we
+can, but buy him out we must. What between his own short experiences of
+Ireland, and the exposure that any litigation is sure to bring with it,
+he's not likely to be hard to deal with, particularly when we are in
+possession, as I suppose we may be, through _your_ intimacy with the
+Captain, of all the secret history of these transactions. I take it for
+granted that he 'll be as glad of a settlement that keeps all 'snug,'
+as ourselves. Less than the twenty-two thousand we can't expect he'll
+take."
+
+"And how are we to raise that sum without Mr. Martin's concurrence?"
+
+"I wish that was the only difficulty," said Scanlan.
+
+"What do you mean?"
+
+"Just this: that in his present state no act of his would stand. Sure
+his mind is gone. There isn't a servant about him could n't swear to his
+fancies and imaginations. No, sir, the whole thing must be done amongst
+ourselves. I have eight thousand some hundred pounds of my own available
+at a moment; old Nelligan would readily--for an assignment of the
+Brewery and the Market Square--advance us ten thousand more;--the money,
+in short, could be had--more if we wanted it--the question--"
+
+"As to the dealing with Merl?" broke in Jack.
+
+"No, sir, not that, though of course it is a most important
+consideration."
+
+"Well, what then?"
+
+"As to the dealing with Maurice Scanlan, sir," said he, making a great
+effort. "There's the whole question in one word."
+
+"I don't see that there can be any grave obstacle against that. You know
+the property."
+
+"Every acre of it."
+
+"You know how you'd like your advance to be secured to you--on what part
+of the estate. The conditions, I am certain, might be fairly left in
+your own hands; I feel assured you'd not ask nor expect anything beyond
+what was equitable and just."
+
+"Mr. Massingbred, we might talk this way a twelvemonth, and never be a
+bit nearer our object than when we began," said Scanlan, resolutely. "I
+want two things, and I won't take less than the two together. One is to
+be secured in the agency of the estate, under nobody's control whatever
+but the Martins themselves. No Mister Repton to say 'Do this, sign
+that, seal the other.' I 'll have nobody over me but him that owns the
+property."
+
+"Well, and the other condition?"
+
+"The other--the other--" said Scanlan, growing very red--"the other, I
+suppose, will be made the great difficulty--at least, on my Lady's side.
+She 'll be bristling up about her uncle the Marquis, and her half-cousin
+the Duke, and she'll be throwing in my teeth who I am, and what I was,
+and all the rest of it, forgetting all the while where they 'll be if
+they reject my terms, and how much the most noble Viceroy will do for
+her when she has n't a roof over her head, and how many letters his
+Grace will write when she has n't a place to address them to,--not to
+say that the way they're treating the girl at this very moment shows
+how much they think of her as one of themselves, living with old Catty
+Broon, and cantering over the country without as much as a boy after
+her. Sure, if they were n't Pride itself, it's glad they might be
+that a--a--a respectable man, that is sure to be devoted to their own
+interests forever, and one that knows the estate well, and, moreover
+than that, that doesn't want to be going over to London,--no, nor even
+to Dublin,--that doesn't care a brass farthing for the castle and the
+lodge in the park,--that, in short, Mr. Massingbred, asks nothing for
+anybody, but is willing to trust to his industry and what he knows of
+life--There it is now,--there's my whole case," said he, stammering,
+and growing more and more embarrassed. "I haven't a word to add to it,
+except this: that if they'd rather be ruined entirely, left without
+stick or stone, roof or rafter in the world, than take my offer, they
+'ve nothing to blame but themselves and their own infernal pride!" And
+with this peroration, to deliver which cost him an effort like a small
+apoplexy, Maurice Scanlan sat down at the table, and crossed his arms on
+his breast like one prepared to await his verdict with a stout heart.
+
+At last, and with the start of one who "suddenly bethought him of a
+precaution that ought not to be neglected," he said,--"Of course, this is
+so far all between ourselves, for if I was to go up straight to my Lady,
+and say, 'I want to marry your niece,' I think I know what the answer
+would be."
+
+Although Massingbred had followed this rambling and incoherent effort
+at explanation with considerable attention, it was only by the very
+concluding words that he was quite certain of having comprehended
+its meaning. If we acknowledge that he felt almost astounded by the
+pretension, it is but fair to add that nothing in his manner or air
+betokened this feeling. Nay, he even by a slight gesture of the head
+invited the other to continue; and when the very abrupt conclusion did
+ensue, he sat patiently, as it were revolving the question in his own
+mind.
+
+Had Scanlan been waiting for the few words which from a jury-box
+determine a man's fate forever, he could not have suffered more acute
+anxiety than he felt while contemplating the other's calm and unmoved
+countenance. A bold, open rejection of his plan, a defiant repudiation
+of his presumption, would not probably have pained him more, if as much
+as the impassive quietness of Jack's demeanor.
+
+"If you think that this is a piece of impudence on my part, Mr.
+Massingbred,--if it's your opinion that in aspiring to be connected with
+the Martins I'm forgetting my place and my station, just say so at once.
+Tell it to me frankly, and I'll know how to bear it," said he, at last,
+when all further endurance had become impossible.
+
+"Nothing of the kind, my dear Scanlan," said Jack, smiling blandly.
+"Whatever snobbery once used to prevail on these subjects, we have come
+to live in a more generous age. The man of character, the man who unites
+an untarnished reputation to very considerable abilities, with talent to
+win any station, and virtues to adorn it, such a man wants no blazonry
+to illustrate his name, and it is mainly by such accessions that our
+English aristocracy, refreshed and invigorated as it is, preserves its
+great acknowledged superiority."
+
+It would have required a more acute critic than Maurice Scanlan to have
+detected the spirit in which this rhapsody was uttered. The apparent
+earnestness of the manner did not exactly consort with a certain
+pomposity of enunciation and an over-exactness in the tone of the
+declamation. On the whole Maurice did not like it. It smacked to his
+ears very like what he had often listened to in the Four Courts at the
+close of a "junior's" address; and there was a Nisi Prius jingle in it
+that sounded marvellously unlike conviction.
+
+"If, then," resumed Massingbred, "they who by the accidents of fortune,
+or the meritorious services of their forefathers, represent rather in
+their elevation the gratitude of their country than--"
+
+"I 'm sorry to interrupt you, sir,--indeed, I'm ashamed of myself for
+doing it,--for your remarks are beautiful, downright eloquent; but the
+truth is, this is a case touches me too closely to make me care for
+a grand speech about it. I 'd rather have just a few words--to the
+evidence, as one might say,--or a simple answer to a plain question, Can
+this thing be done?"
+
+"There's where you beat us, Scanlan. There's where we cannot approach
+you. You are practical. You reduce a matter at once to the simple
+dimension of efficacy first, then possibility, and with these two
+conditions before you you reject the fifty extraneous considerations,
+outlying contingencies, that distract and embarrass such fellows as me.
+
+"I have no pretension to abilities like yours, Mr. Massingbred," said
+Scanlan, with unassumed modesty.
+
+"Ah, Scanlan, yours are the true gifts, take my word for it!--the
+recognized currency by which a man obtains what he seeks for; and
+there never was an era in which such qualities bore a higher value. Our
+statesmen, our diplomatists, our essay-writers,--nay, our very poets,
+addressing themselves as they do to the correction of social wrongs and
+class inequalities,--they are all 'practical'! That is the type of our
+time, and future historians will talk of this as the 'Age of Fact'!"
+
+If one were to judge from Maurice Scanlan's face during the delivery of
+this peroration, it might be possibly inferred that he scarcely accepted
+the speech as an illustration in point, since anything less practical he
+had never listened to.
+
+"When I think," resumed he, "what a different effect I should have
+produced in the 'House' had I possessed this requisite! You, possibly,
+may be under the impression that I achieved a great success?"
+
+"Well, I did hear as much," said Scanlan, half doggedly.
+
+"Perhaps it was so. A first speech, you are aware, is always listened to
+indulgently; not so a second, especially if a man rises soon after his
+first effort. They begin to suspect they have got a talkative fellow,
+eager and ready to speak on every question; they dread that, and even if
+he be clever, they 'll vote him a bore!"
+
+"Faith! I don't wonder at it!" said Maurice, with a hearty sincerity in
+the tone.
+
+"Yet, after all, Scanlan, let us be just! How in Heaven's name, are men
+to become debaters, except by this same training? You require men not
+alone to be strong upon the mass of questions that come up in debate,
+but you expect them to be prompt with their explanations, always
+prepared with their replies. Not ransacking history, or searching
+through 'Hansard,' you want a man who, at the spur of the moment,
+can rise to defend, to explain, to simplify, or mayhap to assail, to
+denounce, to annihilate. Is n't that true?"
+
+"I don't want any such thing, sir!" said Scanlan, with a sulky
+determination that there was no misunderstanding.
+
+"You don't. Well, what _do_ you ask for?"
+
+"I'll tell you, sir, and in very few words, too, what I do _not_ ask
+for! I don't ask to be humbugged, listening to this, that, and the
+other, that I have nothing to say to; to hear how you failed or why you
+succeeded; what you did or what you could n't do. I put a plain case to
+you, and I wanted as plain an answer. And as to your flattering me about
+being practical, or whatever you call it, it's a clean waste of time,
+neither less nor more!"
+
+"The agency and the niece!" said Massingbred, with a calm solemnity that
+this speech had never disconcerted.
+
+"Them 's the conditions!" said Scanlan, reddening over face and
+forehead.
+
+"You 're a plucky fellow, Scanlan, and by Jove I like you for it!" said
+Massingbred. And for once there was a hearty sincerity in the way
+he spoke. "If a man _is_ to have a fall, let it be at least over a
+'rasper,' not be thrown over a furrow in a ploughed field! You fly
+at high game, but I'm far from saying you'll not succeed." And with a
+jocular laugh he turned away and left him.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIV. A CONSULTATION
+
+Jack Massingbred was one of those who, in questions of difficulty,
+resort to the pen in preference to personal interference. It was a fancy
+of his that he wrote better than he talked. Very probably he thought
+so because the contrary was the fact. On the present occasion another
+motive had also its influence. It was Lady Dorothea that he addressed,
+and he had no especial desire to commit himself to a direct interview.
+
+His object was to convey Mr. Scanlan's propositions,--to place them
+fully and intelligibly before her Ladyship without a syllable of comment
+on his own part, or one word which could be construed into advocacy or
+reprobation of them. In truth, had he been called upon for an opinion,
+it would have sorely puzzled him what to say. To rescue a large estate
+from ruin was, to be sure, a very considerable service, but to accept
+Maurice Scanlan as a near member of one's family seemed a very heavy
+price even for that. Still, if the young lady liked him, singular as the
+choice might appear, other objections need not be insurmountable. The
+Martins were very unlikely ever to make Ireland their residence again,
+they would see little or nothing of this same Scanlan connection, "and,
+after all," thought Jack, "if we can only keep the disagreeables of
+this life away from daily intercourse, only knowing them through the
+post-office and at rare intervals, the compact is not a bad one."
+
+Massingbred would have liked much to consult Miss Henderson upon the
+question itself, and also upon his manner of treating it; but to touch
+upon the point of a marriage of inequality with her, would have been
+dangerous ground. It was scarcely possible he could introduce the topic
+without dropping a word, or letting fall a remark she could not seize
+hold of. It was the theme, of all others, in which her sensitiveness
+was extreme; nor could he exactly say whether she sneered at a
+_m�salliance,_ or at the insolent tone of society regarding it.
+
+Again he bethought him of the ungraciousness of the task he had assumed,
+if, as was most probable, Lady Dorothea should feel Mr. Scanlan's
+pretensions an actual outrage. "She'll never forgive me for stating
+them, that's certain," said he; "but will she do so if I decline to
+declare them, or worse still, leave them to the vulgar interpretation
+Scanlan himself is sure to impart to them?" While he thus hesitated and
+debated with himself, now altering a phrase here, now changing a word
+there, Captain Martin entered the room, and threw himself into a chair
+with a more than ordinary amount of weariness and exhaustion.
+
+"The governor's worse to-day, Massingbred," said he, with a sigh.
+
+"No serious change, I hope?" said Jack.
+
+"I suspect there is, though," replied the other. "They sent for me from
+Lescour's last night, where I was winning smartly. Just like _my_ luck
+always, to be called away when I was 'in vein,' and when I got here,
+I found Schubart, and a French fellow whom I don't know, had just bled
+him. It must have been touch and go, for when I saw him he was very
+ill--very ill indeed--and they call him better."
+
+"It was a distinct attack, then,--a seizure of some sort?" asked
+Massingbred.
+
+"Yes, I think they said so," said he, lighting his cigar.
+
+"But he has rallied, has n't he?"
+
+"Well, I don't fancy he has. He lifts his eyes at times, and seems to
+look about for some one, and moves his lips a little, but you could
+scarcely say that he was conscious, though my mother insists he is."
+
+"What does Schubart think?"
+
+"Who minds these fellows?" said he, impatiently. "They're only
+speculating on what will be said of themselves, and so they go on: 'If
+this does not occur, and the other does not happen, we shall see him
+better this evening.'"
+
+"This is all very bad," said Massingbred, gloomily--"It's a deuced deal
+worse than you know of, old fellow," said Martin, bitterly.
+
+"Perhaps not worse than I suspect," said Massingbred.
+
+"What do you mean by that?"
+
+Massingbred did not reply, but sat deep in thought for some time. "Come,
+Martin," said he, at last, "let us be frank; in a few hours it may be,
+perhaps, too late for frankness. Is this true?" And he handed to him
+Merl's pocket-book, open at a particular page.
+
+Martin took it, and as his eyes traced the lines a sickly paleness
+covered his features, and in a voice scarcely stronger than an infant's,
+he said, "It is so."
+
+"The whole reversionary right?"
+
+"Every acre--every stick and stone of it--except," added he, with a
+sickly attempt at a smile, "a beggarly tract, near Kiltimmon, Mary has a
+charge upon."
+
+"Read that, now," said Jack, handing him his recently written letter.
+"I was about to send it without showing it to you; but it is as well you
+saw it."
+
+While Martin was reading, Massingbred never took his eyes from him. He
+watched with all his own practised keenness the varying emotions the
+letter cost; but he saw that, as he finished, selfishness had triumphed,
+and that the prospect of safety had blunted every sentiment as to the
+price.
+
+"Well," said Jack, "what say you to that?"
+
+"I say it's a right good offer, and on no account to be refused. There
+is some hitch or other--I can't say what, but it exists, I know--which
+ties us up against selling. Old Repton and the governor, and I think
+my mother, too, are in the secret; but I never was, so that Scanlan's
+proposal is exactly what meets the difficulty."
+
+"But do you like his conditions?" asked Jack.
+
+"I can't say I do. But what 's that to the purpose? One must play the
+hand that is dealt to them; there 's no choice! I know that, as agent
+over the property, he 'll make a deuced good thing of it for himself. It
+will not be five nor ten per cent will satisfy Master Maurice."
+
+"Yes; but there is another condition, also," said Jack, quietly.
+
+"About Mary? Well, of course it's not the kind of thing one likes.
+The fellow is the lowest of the low; but even that's better, in some
+respects, than a species of half gentility, for he actually has n't
+one in the world belonging to him. No one ever heard of his father or
+mother, and he's not the fellow to go in search of them."
+
+"I confess that _is_ a consideration," said Massingbred, with a tone
+that might mean equally raillery or the reverse, "so that you see no
+great objection on that score?"
+
+"I won't say I 'd choose the connection; but 'with a bad book it's at
+least a hedge,'--eh, Massy, is n't it?"
+
+"Perhaps so," said the other, dryly.
+
+"It does n't strike me," said Martin, as he glanced his eye again over
+the letter, "that you have advocated Scanlan's plan. You have left it
+without, apparently, one word of comment. Does that mean that you don't
+approve of it?"
+
+"I never promised him I would advocate it," said Jack.
+
+"I have no doubt, Massingbred, you think me a deuced selfish fellow for
+treating the question in this fashion; but just reflect a little,
+and see how innocently, as I may say, I was led into all these
+embarrassments. I never suspected how deep I was getting. Merl used to
+laugh at me if I asked him how we stood; he always induced me to regard
+our dealings as trifles, to be arranged to-day, to-morrow, or ten years
+hence."
+
+"I am not unversed in that sort of thing, unluckily," said Massingbred,
+interrupting him. "There is another consideration, however, in the
+present case, to which I do not think you have given sufficient weight."
+
+"As to Mary, my dear fellow, the matter is simple enough. Our consent
+is a mere form. If she liked Scanlan, she 'd marry him against all the
+Martins that ever were born; and if she did n't, she 'd not swerve an
+inch if the whole family were to go to the stake for it. She 's not one
+for half measures, I promise you; and then, remember, that though she
+is one 'of us,' and well born, she has never mingled with the society
+of her equals; she has always lived that kind of life you saw
+yourself,--taking a cast with the hounds one day, nursing some old hag
+with the rheumatism the next. I 've seen her hearing a class in the
+village school, and half an hour after, breaking in a young horse to
+harness. And what between her habits and her tastes, she is really not
+fit for what you and I would call the world." As Massingbred made no
+reply, Martin ascribed his silence to a part conviction, and went on:
+"Mind, I 'm not going to say that she is not a deuced deal too good for
+Maurice Scanlan, who is as vulgar a hound as walks on two legs; but, as
+I said before, Massy, we haven't much choice."
+
+"Will Lady Dorothea be likely to view the matter in this light?" asked
+Jack, calmly.
+
+"That is a mere matter of chance. She 's equally likely to embrace the
+proposal with ardor, or tell a footman to kick Scanlan out of the house
+for his impertinence; and I own the latter is the more probable of the
+two,--not, mark you, from any exaggerated regard for Mary, but out of
+consideration to the insult offered to herself."
+
+"Will she not weigh well all the perils that menace the estate?"
+
+"She'll take a short method with them,--she'll not believe them."
+
+"Egad! I must say the whole negotiation is in a very promising state!"
+exclaimed Jack, as he arose and walked the room. "There is only one
+amongst us has much head for a case of difficulty."
+
+"You mean Kate Henderson?" broke in Martin.
+
+"Yes."
+
+"Well, we 've lost _her_ just when we most needed her."
+
+"Lost her! How--what do you mean?"
+
+"Why, that she is gone--gone home. She started this morning before
+daybreak. She had a tiff with my mother last night. I will say the girl
+was shamefully treated,--shamefully! My Lady completely forgot herself.
+She was in one of those blessed paroxysms in which, had she been born a
+Pasha, heads would have been rolling about like shot in a dockyard, and
+she consequently said all manner of atrocities; and instead of giving
+her time to make the _amende_, Kate beat a retreat at once, and by this
+time she is some twenty miles on her journey."
+
+Massingbred walked to the window to hide the emotion these tidings
+produced; for, with all his self-command, the suddenness of the
+intelligence had unmanned him, and a cold and sickly feeling came over
+him. There was far more of outraged and insulted pride than love in the
+emotions which then moved him. The bitter thought of the moment was,
+how indifferent she felt about _him_,--how little _he_ weighed in
+any resolve she determined to follow. She had gone without a word of
+farewell,--perhaps without a thought of him. "Be it so," said he to
+himself; "there has been more than enough of humiliation to me in our
+intercourse. It is time to end it! The whole was a dream, from which the
+awaking was sure to be painful. Better meet it at once, and have done
+with it." There was that much of passion in this resolve that proved how
+far more it came from wounded pride than calm conviction; and so deeply
+was his mind engrossed with this feeling, that Martin had twice spoken
+to him ere he noticed his question.
+
+"Do you mean, then, to show that letter to my mother?"
+
+"Ay; I have written it with that object Scanlan asked me to be
+his interpreter, and I have kept my pledge.--And did she go
+alone,--unaccompanied?"
+
+"I fancy so; but, in truth, I never asked. The doctors were here, and
+all that fuss and confusion going on, so that I had really little head
+for anything. After all, I suspect she's a girl might be able to take
+care of herself,--should n't you say so?"
+
+Massingbred was silent for a while, and then said: "You 'll have to be
+on the alert about this business of yours, Martin; and if I can be of
+service to you, command me. I mean to start for London immediately."
+
+"I 'll see my mother at once, then," said he, taking up Massingbred's
+letter.
+
+"Shall I meet you in about an hour, in the Lichtenthal Avenue?"
+
+"Agreed," said he; and they parted.
+
+We have no need, nor have we any right, to follow Massingbred as he
+strolled out to walk alone in an alley of the wood. Irresolution is an
+intense suffering to men of action; and such was the present condition
+of his mind. Week after week, month after month, had he lingered on
+in companionship with the Martins, till such had become the intimacy
+between them that they scrupled not to discuss before him the most
+confidential circumstances, and ask his counsel on the most private
+concerns. He fancied that he was "of them;" he grew to think that he
+was, somehow, part and parcel of the family, little suspecting the
+while that Kate Henderson was the link that bound him to them, and that
+without her presence they resolved themselves into three individuals for
+whom he felt wonderfully little of interest or affection. "She is gone,
+and what have I to stay for?" was the question he put to himself; and
+for answer he could only repeat it.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXV. A COMPROMISE
+
+There are many who think that our law of primogeniture is a sad hardener
+of the heart,--estranging the father from the son, widening petty
+misunderstandings to the breadth of grievances, engendering suspicions
+where there should be trustfulness, and opening two roads in life to
+those who should rightfully have trod one path together. If one half of
+this be the price we pay for our "great houses," the bargain is a bad
+one! But even taking a wide margin for exaggeration,--allowing much
+for the prejudices of those who assail this institution,--there is that
+which revolts against one's better nature, in the ever-present question
+of money, between the father and his heir. The very fact that separate
+rights suggest separate interests is a source of discord; while the
+inevitable law of succession is a stern defiance to that sense of
+protection on one side, and dependence on the other, that should mark
+their relations to each other.
+
+Captain Martin was not devoid of affection for his family. He had, it
+is true, been very little at home, but he did not dislike it, beyond
+the "boredom" of a rather monotonous kind of life. He was naturally of
+a plastic temperament, however, and he lived amongst a set whose
+good pleasure it is to criticise all who belong to them with the very
+frankest of candor. One told how his governor, though rolling in wealth,
+kept him on a most beggarly allowance, illustrating, with many an
+amusing story, traits of avarice that set the table in a roar. Another
+exhibited his as such a reckless spendthrift that the family estate
+would never cover the debts. There was a species of rivalry on seeing
+who should lay most open to public view details and incidents purely
+belonging to a family. It was even a principle of this new school
+to discuss, and suffer others to discuss before them, the class and
+condition of life of their parents in a tone of mockery and derision,
+whenever the occasion might admit it; and the son of the manufacturer
+or the trader listened to allusions to his birth and parentage, and even
+jested upon them himself, in a spirit more flattering to his philosophy
+than to his pride.
+
+Martin had lived amidst all this for years. He had been often
+complimented upon the "jolly good thing he was to have one of these
+days;" he had been bantered out of many a wise and prudent economy, by
+being reminded of that "deuced fine property nobody could keep him out
+of." "What can it signify to _you_ old fellow, a few hundreds more or
+less. You must have fifteen thousand a year yet. The governor can't live
+forever, I take it." Others, too, as self-invited guests, speculated on
+all the pleasures of a visit to Cro' Martin; and if at first the young
+man heard such projects with shame and repugnance, he learned at last to
+listen to them with indifference, perhaps with something less!
+
+Was it some self-accusing on this score that now overwhelmed him as he
+sat alone in his room, trying to think, endeavoring to arouse himself to
+action, but so overcome that he sat there only half conscious, and
+but dimly discerning the course of events about him? At such moments
+external objects mingle their influences with our thoughts, and the
+sound of voices, the tread of footsteps, the mere shutting of a door,
+seem to blend themselves with our reveries, and give somewhat of reality
+to our dreamy fancies. A large clock upon the mantelpiece had thus fixed
+his attention, and he watched the minute-hand as though its course was
+meting out the last moments of existence. "Ere it reach that hour,"
+thought he, fixing his gaze upon the dial, "what a change may have come
+over all my fortunes!" Years--long years--seemed to pass over as he
+waited thus; scenes of childhood, of infancy itself, mingled with the
+gay dissipations of his after-life; school days and nights at mess,
+wild orgies of the play-table and sad wakings on the morrow, all moved
+through his distracted brain, till at length it was only by an effort
+that he could shake off these flitting fancies and remember where he
+was.
+
+He at once bethought him that there was much to be done. He had given
+Massingbred's letter to his mother, entreating a prompt answer, but
+two hours had now elapsed and she had not sent her reply. There was a
+struggle between his better nature and his selfishness whether to seek
+her. The thought of that sick-room, dark and silent, appalled him. "Is
+it at such a time I dare ask her to address her mind to this? and yet
+hours are now stealing over which may decide my whole fate in life."
+While he thus hesitated, Lady Dorothea entered the room. Nights of
+anxiety and watching, the workings of a spirit that fought inch by
+inch with fortune, were deeply marked upon her features. Weariness
+and fatigue had not brought depression on her, but rather imparted a
+feverish lustre to her eyes, and an expression of haughty energy to her
+face.
+
+"Am I to take this for true," said she, as, seating herself in front
+of him, she held out Massingbred's letter,--"I mean, of course, what
+relates to yourself?"
+
+He nodded sorrowfully, but did not speak.
+
+"All literally the fact?" said she, speaking slowly, and dwelling on
+every word. "You have actually sold the reversion of the estate?"
+
+"And am beggared!" said he, sternly.
+
+Lady Dorothea tried to speak. She coughed, cleared her throat, made
+another effort, but without succeeding; and then, in a slightly broken
+voice, said, "Fetch me a glass of water. No, sit down; I don't want it."
+The blood again mounted to her pale cheeks, and she was herself again.
+
+"These are hard terms of Scanlan's," said she, in a dry, stern tone. "He
+has waited, too, till we have little choice remaining. Your father is
+worse."
+
+"Worse than when I saw him this morning?"
+
+"Weaker, and less able to bear treatment. He is irritable, too, at that
+girl's absence. He asks for her constantly, and confuses her in his mind
+with Mary."
+
+"And what does Schubart think?"
+
+"I'll tell you what he _says_," replied she, with a marked emphasis on
+the last word. "He says the case is hopeless; he has seen such linger
+for weeks, but even a day--a day--" She tried to go on; but her voice
+faltered, her lip trembled, and she was silent.
+
+"I had begun to believe it so," muttered Martin, gloomily. "He scarcely
+recognized me yesterday."
+
+"He is perfectly collected and sensible now," said Lady Dorothea, in her
+former calm tone. "He spoke of business matters clearly and well, and
+wished to see Scanlan."
+
+"Which I trust you did not permit?" asked Martin, hurriedly.
+
+"I told him he should see him this evening, but there is no necessity
+for it. Scanlan may have left this before evening."
+
+"You suspect that Scanlan would say something,--would mention to him
+something of this affair?"
+
+"Discretion is not the quality of the low-born and the vulgar,"
+said she, haughtily; "self-importance alone would render him unsafe.
+Besides,"--and this she said rapidly,--"there is nothing to detain the
+man here, when he knows that we accept his conditions."
+
+"And are we to accept them?" said Martin, anxiously.
+
+"Dare we refuse them? What is the alternative? I suppose what you have
+done with your Jew friend has been executed legally--formally?"
+
+"Trust _him_ for that; he has left no flaw there!" said Martin,
+bitterly.
+
+"I was certain of it," said she, with a scarcely perceptible sneer.
+"Everything, therefore, has been effected according to law?"
+
+"Yes, I believe so," replied he, doggedly.
+
+"Then really there is nothing left to us but Scanlan. He objects to
+Repton; so do I. I always deemed him obtrusive and familiar. In the
+management of an Irish estate such qualities may be reckoned essential.
+I know what we should think of them in England, and I know where we
+should place their possessor."
+
+"I believe the main question that presses now is, are we to have an
+estate at all?" said the Captain, bitterly.
+
+"Yes, sir, you have really brought it to that," rejoined she, with equal
+asperity.
+
+"Do you consent to his having the agency?" asked Martin, with an immense
+effort to suppress passion.
+
+"Yes."
+
+"And you agree, also, to his proposal for Mary?"
+
+"It is matter of complete indifference to me who Miss Martin marries, if
+she only continue to reside where she does at present. I 'm certain she
+'d not consult _me_ on the subject; I'm sure I'd never control _her_. It
+is a _m�salliance_, to be sure; but it would be equally so, if she,
+with her rustic habits and uneducated mind, were to marry what would be
+called her equal. In the present case, she 'll be a little better than
+her station; in the other, she 'd be vastly beneath it!"
+
+"Poor Molly!" said he, half aloud; and, for the first time, there was a
+touch of his father's tone and manner in the words.
+
+Lady Dorothea looked at him, and with a slight shrug of the shoulders
+seemed to sneer at his low-priced compassion.
+
+"Scoff away!" said he, sternly; "but if I thought that any consent we
+gave to this scheme could take the shape of a coercion, I 'd send the
+estate to the--"
+
+"You have, sir; you have done all that already," broke in Lady Dorothea.
+"When the troubled breathing that we hear from yonder room ceases, there
+is no longer a Martin of Cro' Martin!"
+
+"Then what are we losing time for?" cried he, eagerly. "Are moments
+so precious to be spent in attack and recrimination? There's Scanlan
+sitting on a bench before the door. Call him up--tell him you accept
+his terms--let him start for London, post haste. With every speed he can
+master he 'll not be a minute too soon. Shall I call him? Shall I beckon
+to him?"
+
+"Send a servant for him," said Lady Dorothea, calmly, while she folded
+up the letter, and laid it on the table at her side.
+
+Martin rang the bell and gave the order, and then, assuming an air of
+composure he was very far from feeling, sat silently awaiting Scanlan's
+entrance. That gentleman did not long detain them. He had been sitting,
+watch in hand, for above an hour, looking occasionally up at the
+windows, and wondering why he had not been summoned. It was, then, with
+an almost abrupt haste that he at last presented himself.
+
+"Read over that letter, sir," said Lady Dorothea, "and please to inform
+me if it rightly conveys your propositions."
+
+Scanlan perused Massingbred's letter carefully, and folding it up,
+returned it. "Yes, my Lady," said he, "I think it embraces the chief
+points. Of course there is nothing specified as to the mode of carrying
+them out,--I mean, as to the security I should naturally look for. I
+believe your Ladyship does not comprehend me?"
+
+"Not in the least, sir."
+
+"Well, if I must speak plainer, I want to be sure that your concurrence
+is no mere barren concession, my Lady; that, in admitting my
+pretensions, your Ladyship favors them. This is, of course," said he, in
+a tone of deference, "if your Ladyship condescends to accept the terms
+at all; for, as yet, you have not said so."
+
+"If I had not been so minded, sir, this interview would not have taken
+place."
+
+"Well, indeed, I thought as much myself," said he; "and so I at once
+entered upon what one might call the working details of the measure."
+
+"How long will it take you to reach London, sir?" asked she, coldly.
+
+"Four days, my Lady, travelling night and day."
+
+"How soon after your arrival there can you make such arrangements as
+will put this affair out of all danger, using every endeavor in your
+power?"
+
+"I hope I could answer for that within a week,--maybe, less."
+
+"You'll have to effect it in half that time, sir," said she, solemnly.
+
+"Well, I don't despair of that same, if I have only your Ladyship's
+promise to all that is set down there. I 'll neither eat nor sleep till
+the matter is in good train."
+
+"I repeat, sir, that if this settlement be not accomplished in less than
+a week from the present moment, it may prove utterly valueless."
+
+"I can only say I'll do my best, my Lady. I'd be on the road this
+minute, if your Ladyship would dismiss me."
+
+"Very well, sir,--you are free. I pledge myself to the full conditions
+of this letter. Captain Martin binds himself equally to observe them."
+
+"I 'd like it in writing under your Ladyship's hand," said Scanlan, in
+a half whisper, as though afraid to speak such doubts aloud. "It is
+not that I have the least suspicion or misgiving in life about your
+Ladyship's word,--I'd take it for a million of money,--but when I come
+to make my proposals in person to Miss Mary--"
+
+"There, sir, that will do!" said she, with a disdainful look, as if to
+repress an explanation so disagreeable. "You need not enter further upon
+the question. If you address me by letter, I will reply to it."
+
+"There it is, my Lady," said he, producing a sealed epistle, and placing
+it on the table before her. "I had it ready, just not to be losing time.
+My London address is inside; and if you'll write to me by to-morrow's
+post,--or the day after," added he, remarking a movement of impatience
+in her face--"You shall have your bond, sir,--you shall have your bond,"
+broke she in, haughtily.
+
+"That ought to be enough, I think," said the Captain, with a degree of
+irritation that bespoke a long internal conflict.
+
+"I want nothing beyond what I shall earn, Captain Martin," said Scanlan,
+as a flash of angry meaning covered his features.
+
+"And we have agreed to the terms, Mr. Scanlan," said her Ladyship, with
+a great effort to conciliate. "It only remains for us to say, a good
+journey, and every success attend you."
+
+"Thank you, my Lady; I'm your most obedient. Captain, I wish you
+good-bye, and hope soon to send you happy tidings. I trust, if Mr.
+Martin asks after me, that you 'll give him my respectful duty; and
+if--"
+
+"We'll forget nothing, sir," said Lady Dorothea, rising; and Scanlan,
+after a moment's hesitation as to whether he should venture to offer
+his hand,--a measure for which, happily, he could not muster the
+courage,--bowed himself out of the room, and closed the door.
+
+"Not a very cordial leave-taking for one that's to be her nephew,"
+muttered he, with a bitter laugh, as he descended the stairs. "And,
+indeed, my first cousin, the Captain, is n't the model of family
+affection. Never mind, Maurice, your day is coming!" And with this
+assuring reflection he issued forth to give orders for his journey.
+
+A weary sigh--the outpouring of an oppressed and jaded spirit--broke
+from Lady Dorothea as the door closed after him. "Insufferable
+creature!" muttered she to herself? and then, turning to the Captain,
+said aloud, "Is that man capable of playing us false?--or, rather, has
+he the power of doing so?"
+
+"It is just what I have been turning over in my own mind," replied he.
+"I don't quite trust him; and, in fact, I'd follow him over to London,
+if I were free at this moment."
+
+"Perhaps you ought to do so; it might be the wisest course," said she,
+hesitatingly.
+
+"Do you think I could leave this with safety?" asked he. But she did
+not seem to have heard the question. He repeated it, and she was still
+silent. "If the doctors could be relied on, they should be able to tell
+us."
+
+"To tell us what?" asked she, abruptly, almost sternly.
+
+"I meant that they'd know--that they'd perhaps be in a position to
+judge--that they at least could warn us--" Here he stopped, confused and
+embarrassed, and quite unable to continue. That sense of embarrassment,
+however, came less of his own reflections than of the cold, steady, and
+searching look which his mother never ceased to bend on him. It was a
+gaze that seemed to imply, "Say on, and let me hear how destitute of
+all feeling you will avow yourself." It was, indeed, the meaning of her
+stare, and so he felt it, as the color came and went in his cheek, and a
+sense of faintish sickness crept over him.
+
+"The post has arrived, my Lady, and I have left your Ladyship's letters
+on the dressing-table," said a servant. And Lady Dorothea, who had been
+impatiently awaiting the mall, hastened at once to her room.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXVI. A LETTER THAT NEVER REACHES ITS ADDRESS
+
+It was not without a very painful emotion that Lady Dorothea turned
+over a mass of letters addressed to her husband. They came from various
+quarters, written in all the moods of many minds. Some were the mere
+gossip of clubs and dinnerparties,--some were kindly and affectionate
+inquiries, gentle reproachings on his silence, and banterings about his
+pretended low spirits. A somewhat favorite tone is that same raillery
+towards those whose lot in life seems elevated above the casualties of
+fortune, forgetting the while that the sunniest path has its shadows,
+and they whom we deem exempt from the sore trials of the world have
+their share of its sorrows. These read strangely now, as he to whom they
+were addressed lay breathing the heavy and labored breath, and muttering
+the low broken murmurs that prelude the one still deeper sleep!
+
+With a tremulous hand, and a gesture of fretful impatience, she threw
+them from her one after the other. The topics and the tone alike jarred
+upon her nerves. They seemed so unfeeling, too, and so heartless at such
+a moment. Oh, if we wanted to moralize over the uncertainty of life,
+what a theme might we have in the simple fact that, quicker than the
+lines we are writing fall from our pen, are oftentimes changing the
+whole fate and fortune of him for whom we destine them! We are telling
+of hope where despair has already entered,--we are speaking joy to a
+house of mourning! But one letter alone remained unopened. It was in
+Repton's hand, and she broke the seal, wondering how he, who of all men
+hated writing, should have turned a correspondent.
+
+The "strictly confidential" of the cover was repeated within; but the
+hour had come when she could violate the caution, and she read on. The
+first few lines were a half-jesting allusion to Martin's croakings about
+his health; but even these had a forced, constrained air, and none of
+the jocular ease of the old man's manner. "And yet," continued he, "it
+is exactly about your health I am most anxious. I want you to be strong
+and stout, body and mind, ready for action, and resolute. I know the
+tone and style that an absentee loves and even requires to be addressed
+in. He wants to be told that, however he may be personally regretted,
+matters go on wonderfully well in his absence, that rent is paid, farms
+improved, good markets abound, and the county a pattern of quietness. I
+could tell you all this, Martin, and not a syllable of it be true. The
+rents are not paid, partly from a season of great pressure, but, more
+still, from an expectancy on the side of the people that something--they
+know not what--is coming. The Relief Bill only relieved those who wanted
+to job in politics and make market of their opinions; the masses it has
+scarcely touched. They are told they are emancipated, but I am at a loss
+to know in what way they realize to their minds the new privilege. Their
+leaders have seen this. Shrewd fellows as they are, they have guessed
+what disappointment must inevitably ensue when the long-promised boon
+can show nothing as its results but certain noisy mob-orators made
+Parliament men; and so they have slyly hinted,--as yet it is only a
+hint,--'this is but the first step--an instalment they call it--of a
+large debt, every fraction of which must yet be paid!'
+
+"Now there is not in all Europe a more cunning or a deeper fellow than
+Paddy. He has an Italian's subtlety and a Celt's suspicion; but enlist
+his self-love, his vanity, and his acquisitiveness in any scheme, and
+all his shrewdness deserts him. The old hackney coach-horses never
+followed the hay on the end of the pole more hopefully than will he
+travel after some promised future of 'fine times,' with plenty to eat
+and drink, and nothing to do for it! They have booked themselves now for
+this journey, and the delusion must run its course. Meanwhile rents will
+not be paid, farms not improved, bad prices and poverty will abound, and
+the usual crop of discontent and its consequent crime. I 'm not going
+to inflict you with my own opinions on this theme. You know well enough
+already that I never regarded these 'Agrarian disturbances,' as they are
+called, in the light of passing infractions of the peace, but traced in
+them the continuous working of a long preconcerted plan,--the scheme of
+very different heads from those who worked it,--by which the law should
+ever be assailed and the right of property everlastingly put in dispute.
+In plain words, the system was a standing protest against the sway of
+the Saxons in Ireland! 'The agitators' understood thoroughly how to
+profit by this, and they worked these alternate moods of outrage and
+peace pretty much as the priests of old guided their auguries. They
+brought the game to that perfection that a murder could shake a
+ministry, or a blank calendar become the triumph of an Administration!
+
+"Such is, at the moment I am writing, the actual condition of Ireland!
+Come home, then, at once,--but come alone. Come back resolved to see and
+act for yourself. There is a lingering spark of the old feudalism
+yet left in the people. Try and kindle it up once more into the old
+healthful glow of love to the landlord. Some would say it is too late
+for all this; but I will not think so. Magennis has given us an open
+defiance; we are to be put on our title. Now, you are well aware there
+is a complication here, and I shall want to consult you personally;
+besides, we must have a search through those registries that are locked
+up in the strong-room. Mary tells me you carried away the key of it.
+I tell you frankly, I wish we could hit upon some means of
+stopping Magennis. The suit is a small war, that demands grand
+preparation,--always a considerable evil! The fellow, I am told, is also
+concocting another attack,--an action against your niece and others for
+the forcible abduction of his wife. It would read fabulously enough,
+such a charge, but as old Casey said, 'There never yet was anything you
+could n't impute at law, if you only employed the word "conspiracy;"'
+and I believe it! The woman certainly has deserted him, and her
+whereabouts cannot be ascertained. The scandal of such a cause would of
+course be very great; but if you were here we might chance upon some
+mode of averting it,--at all events, your niece shouldn't be deserted at
+such a moment. What a noble girl it is, Martin, and how gloriously she
+comprehends her station! Give me a dozen like her, and I 'll bid
+defiance to all the machinations of all the agitators; and they know it!
+
+"If your estate has resisted longer than those of your neighbors the
+demoralizing influences that are now at work here, you owe it to Mary.
+If crime has not left its track of blood along your avenue or on your
+door-sill, it is she who has saved you. If the midnight hour has not
+been scared by the flame of your burning house or haggard, thank _her_
+for it,--ay, Martin, _her_ courage, _her_ devotion, _her_ watchful
+charity, _her_ unceasing benevolence, the glorious guarantee her daily
+life gives, that _she_, at least, is with the people in all their
+sufferings and their trials! You or I had abandoned with impatience the
+cause that she had succored against every disappointment. Her woman's
+nature has endowed her with a higher and a nobler energy than ever a man
+possessed. She _will not_ be defeated.
+
+"Henderson may bewail, and Maurice Scanlan deride, the shortcomings of
+the people. But through evil and good report she is there to hear from
+their own lips, to see with her own eyes, the story of their sorrows. Is
+this nothing? Is there no lesson in the fact that she, nurtured in
+every luxury, braves the wildest day of winter in her mission of
+charity?--that the most squalid misery, the most pestilent disease never
+deterred her? I saw her a few days back coming home at daybreak; she
+had passed the night in a hovel where neither you nor I would have taken
+shelter in a storm. The hectic flush of fatigue and anxiety was on her
+cheek; her eyes, deep sunk, showed weariness; and her very voice, as
+she spoke to me, was tremulous and weak; and of what, think you, was her
+mind full? Of the noble calm, the glorious, patient endurance of
+those she had just quitted. 'What lessons might we not learn,' said
+she,'beneath the wet thatch of poverty! There are three struck down with
+fever in that cabin; she who remains to nurse them is a little girl of
+scarcely thirteen. There is all that can render sickness wretched around
+them. They are in pain and in want; cold winds and rain sweep across
+their beds, if we could call them such. If they cherish the love of
+life, it must be through some instinct above all reason; and there they
+lie, uncomplaining. The little remnant of their strength exhausts itself
+in a look of thankfulness,--a faint effort to say their gratitude. Oh,
+if querulous hypochondriacism could but see them, what teaching it might
+learn! Sufferings that call forth from us not alone peevishness and
+impatience, but actually traits of rude and ungenerous meaning, develop
+in them an almost refined courtesy, and a trustfulness that supplies all
+that is most choice in words of gratitude.'
+
+"And this is the girl whose life every day, every hour is
+imperilling,--who encounters all the hazards of our treacherous climate,
+and all the more fatal dangers of a season of pestilence, without
+friends, without a home! Now, Martin, apart from all higher and better
+considerations on the subject, this was not your compact,--such was not
+the text of your bargain with poor Barry. The pledge you gave him at
+your last parting was that she should be your daughter. That you made
+her feel all the affection of one, none can tell more surely than
+myself. That your own heart responds to her love I am as fully convinced
+of. But this is not enough, my dear Martin. She has rights--actual
+rights--that no special pleading on the score of intentions or good
+wishes can satisfy. I should but unworthily discharge my office, as your
+oldest friend in the world, if I did not place this before you broadly
+and plainly. The country is dull and wearisome, devoid of society, and
+without resources, and you leave it; but you leave behind you, to endure
+all its monotony, all its weariness, one who possesses every charm and
+every attention that are valued in the great world! There is fever and
+plague abroad, insurrection threatens, and midnight disturbances are
+rife, and she who is to confront these perils is a girl of twenty. The
+spirit of an invading party threatens to break down all the prestige of
+old family name and property,--a cunningly devised scheme menaces the
+existence of an influence that has endured for centuries; and to oppose
+its working, or fall victim to its onslaught, you leave a young lady,
+whose very impulses of generous meaning may be made snares to entrap
+her. In a word, you neglect duty, desert danger, shun the path of
+honorable exertion, and retreat before the menace of an encounter, to
+place, where you should stand yourself, the frail figure and gentle
+nature of one who was a child, as it were, but yesterday. Neither
+your health nor your happiness can be purchased at such a price,--your
+conscience is too sound for that,--nor can your ease! No, Martin, your
+thoughts will stray over here, and linger amongst these lonely glens
+that she is treading. Your fancy will follow her through the dark nights
+of winter, as alone she goes forth on her mission of mercy. You will
+think of her, stooping to teach the young--bending over the sick-bed of
+age. And then, tracing her footsteps homeward, you will see her sit down
+by a solitary hearth,--none of her own around her,--not one to advise,
+to counsel, to encourage her! I will say no more on this theme; your own
+true heart has already anticipated all that _I_ could _speak_,--all that
+_you_ should _do_.
+
+"Now for one more question, and I shall have finished the most painful
+letter I ever wrote in my life. There are rumors--I cannot trace them,
+nor fully understand them, but they imply that Captain Martin has been
+raising very considerable sums by reversionary bonds and post-obits.
+Without being able to give even a guess, as to the truth of this, I
+draw your attention to the bare possibility, as of a case full of very
+serious complications. Speak to your son at once on the subject, and
+learn the truth,--the whole truth. My own fears upon the matter have
+been considerably strengthened by hearing of a person who has been
+for several weeks back making inquiries on the estate. He has resided
+usually at Kilkieran, and spends his time traversing the property in all
+directions, investigating questions of rent, wages, and tenure of land.
+They tell marvellous stories of his charity and so forth,--blinds,
+doubtless, to cover his own immediate objects. Mary, however, I ought to
+say, takes a very different view of his character, and is so anxious to
+know him personally that I promised her to visit him, and bring him to
+visit her at the cottage. And, by the way, Martin, why should she be
+at the cottage,--why not at Cro' Martin? What miserable economy has
+dictated a change that must reflect upon her influence, not to speak of
+what is justly due to her own station? I could swear that you never
+gave a willing consent to this arrangement. No, no, Martin, the plan was
+never yours.
+
+"I 'm not going to bore you with borough politics. To tell truth, I
+can't comprehend them. They want to get rid of Massingbred, but they
+don't see who is to succeed him. Young Nelligan ought to be the man, but
+he will not. He despises his party,--or at least what would call
+itself his party,--and is resolved never to concern himself with public
+affairs. Meanwhile he is carrying all before him at the Bar, and is as
+sure of the Bench as though he were on it.
+
+"When he heard of Magennis's intention of bringing this action against
+Mary, he came up to town to ask me to engage him on our side, 'since,'
+said he, 'if they send me a brief I cannot refuse it, and if I accept
+it, I promise you it shall be my last cause, for I have resolved to
+abandon the Bar the day after.' This, of course, was in strictest
+secrecy, and so you must regard it. He is a cold, calm fellow, and yet
+on this occasion he seemed full of impulsive action.
+
+"I had something to tell you about Henderson, but I actually forget what
+it was. I can only remember it was disagreeable; and as this epistle has
+its due share of bitters, my want of memory is perhaps a benefit; and so
+to release you at once, I 'll write myself, as I have never ceased to be
+for forty years,
+
+"Your attached friend,
+
+"Val. Repton."
+
+
+"I believe I was wrong about Henderson; at least the disagreeable went
+no further than that he is supposed to be the channel through which Lady
+Dorothea occasionally issues directions, not always in agreement with
+Mary's notions. And as your niece never liked the man, the measures are
+not more palatable when they come through his intervention."
+
+Lady Dorothea was still pondering over this letter, in which there were
+so many things to consider, when a hurried message called her to the
+sick-room. As she approached the room, she could hear Martin's voice
+calling imperiously and angrily to the servants, and ordering them
+to dress him. The difficulty of utterance seemed to increase his
+irritation, and gave to his words a harsh, discordant tone, very unlike
+his natural voice.
+
+"So," cried he, as she entered, "you have come at last. I am nigh
+exhausted with telling them what I want. I must get up, Dora. They must
+help me to dress."
+
+As he was thus speaking, the servants, at a gesture from her Ladyship,
+quietly stole from the chamber, leaving her alone at his bedside.
+
+"You are too weak for this exertion, Godfrey," said she, calmly. "Any
+effort like this is certain to injure you."
+
+"You think so?" asked he, with the tone of deference that he generally
+used towards her. "Perhaps you are right, Dora; but how can it be
+helped?--there is so much to do, such a long way to travel. What a
+strange confusion is over me! Do you know, Dolly,"--here his voice fell
+to a mere whisper,--"you'll scarcely credit it; but all the time I have
+been fancying myself at Cro' Martin, and here we are in--in--what do you
+call the place?"
+
+"Baden."
+
+"Yes--yes--but the country?"
+
+"Germany."
+
+"Ay, to be sure, Germany; hundreds of miles away from home!" Here
+he raised himself on one arm, and cast a look of searching eagerness
+through the room. "Is he gone?" whispered he, timidly.
+
+"Of whom are you speaking?" said she.
+
+"Hush, Dolly, hush!" whispered he, still lower. "I promised I 'd not
+tell any one, even you, of his being here. But I must speak of it--I
+must--or my brain will turn. He was here--he sat in that very chair--he
+held my hand within both his own. Poor, poor fellow! how his eyes filled
+when he saw me! He little knew how changed he himself was!--his hair
+white as snow, and his eyes so dimmed!"
+
+"This was a dream, Godfrey,--only a dream!"
+
+"I thought you 'd say so,--I knew it," said he, sorrowfully; "but _I_
+know better. The dear old voice rang in my heart as I used to hear it
+when a child, as he said, 'Do you remember me?' To be sure I remembered
+him, and told him to go and fetch Molly; and his brow darkened when
+I said this, and he drew back his hand and said, 'You have deserted
+her,--she is not here!'"
+
+"All this is mere fancy, Godfrey; you have been dreaming of home."
+
+"Ay," muttered he, gloomily, "it was but too true; we did desert her,
+and that was not our bargain, Dolly. It was all the poor fellow asked
+at our hands,--his last, his only condition. What's that letter you have
+there?" cried he, impatiently, as Lady Dorothea, in the agitation of the
+moment, continued to crumple Repton's letter between her fingers.
+
+"A letter I have been reading," said she, sternly.
+
+"From whom--from whom?" asked he, still more eagerly.
+
+"A letter from Mr. Repton. You shall read it when you are better. You
+are too weak for all this exertion, God-frey; you must submit--"
+
+"Submit!" broke he in; "the very word he said. You submit yourself to
+anything, if it only purchase your selfish ease. No, Dolly, no, I am
+wrong. It was I that said so. I owned to him how unworthily I had acted.
+Give me that letter, madam. Let me see it," said he, imperiously.
+
+"When you are more tranquil, Godfrey,--in a fitting state."
+
+"I tell you, madam," cried he, fiercely, "this, is no time for trifling
+or deception. Repton knows all our affairs. If he has written now, it is
+because matters are imminent. My head is clear now. I can think--I can
+speak. It is full time Harry should hear the truth. Let him come here."
+
+"Take a little rest, Godfrey, be it only half an hour, and you shall
+have everything as you wish it."
+
+"Half an hour! you speak of half an hour to one whose years are minutes
+now!" said he, in a broken voice. "This poor brain, Dora, is already
+wandering. The strange things I have seen so lately--that poor fellow
+come back after so many years--so changed, so sadly changed--but I knew
+him through all the mist and vapor of this feverish state; I saw him
+clearly, my own dear Barry!" The word, as it were the last barrier to
+his emotion, brought forth a gush of tears; and burying his face within
+the bedclothes, he sobbed himself to sleep. As he slept, however, he
+continued to mutter about home and long passed years,--of boyish sports
+with his brother; childish joys and sorrows were all mingled there, with
+now and then some gloomier reveries of later days.
+
+"He has been wandering in his mind!" whispered Lady Dorothea to her son,
+as he joined her in the darkened room. "He woke up, believing that he
+had seen his brother, and the effect was very painful."
+
+"Has he asked for _me?_" inquired the other.
+
+"No; he rambled on about Mary, and having deserted her, and all that;
+and just as ill-luck would have it, here is a letter from Repton,
+exactly filled with the very same theme. He insists on seeing it; but of
+course he will have forgotten it when he awakes."
+
+"You have written to Scanlan?" asked he.
+
+"Yes; my letter has been sent off."
+
+"Minutes are precious now. If anything should occur here,"--his eyes
+turned towards the sick-bed as he spoke,--"Merl will refuse to treat.
+His people--I know they are his--are hovering about the hotel all the
+morning. I heard the waiter whispering as I passed, and caught the
+words, 'No better; worse, if anything.' The tidings would be in London
+before the post."
+
+Lady Dorothea made no reply, and all was now silent, save the unequal
+but heavy breathings of the sick man, and the faint, low mutterings of
+his dream. "In the arras--between the window and the wall--there it is,
+Barry," cried he, in a clear, distinct voice. "Repton has a copy of it,
+too, with Catty's signature,--old Catty Broon."
+
+"What is he dreaming of?" asked the young man.
+
+But, instead of replying to the question, Lady Dorothea bent down her
+head to catch the now muttered words of the sleeper.
+
+"He says something of a key. What key does he mean?" asked he.
+
+[Illustration: 297]
+
+"Fetch me that writing-desk," said Lady Dorothea, as she took several
+keys from her pockets; and noiselessly unlocking the box, she began to
+search amidst its contents. As she continued, her gestures grew more and
+more hurried; she threw papers recklessly here and there, and at last
+emptied the entire contents upon the table before her. "See, search if
+there be a key here," cried she, in a broken voice; "I saw it here three
+days ago."
+
+"There is none here," said he, wondering at her eagerness.
+
+"Look carefully,--look well for it," said she, her voice trembling at
+every word.
+
+"Is it of such consequence--"
+
+"It is of such consequence," broke she in, "that he into whose hands it
+falls can leave you and me beggars on the world!" An effort at awaking
+by the sick man here made her hastily restore the papers to the desk,
+which she locked, and replaced upon the table.
+
+"Was it the Henderson did this?" said she aloud, as if asking the
+question of herself. "Could she have known this secret?"
+
+"Did what? What secret?" asked he, anxiously.
+
+A low, long sigh announced that the sick man was awaking; and in a
+faint voice he said, "I feel better, Dora. I have had a sleep, and been
+dreaming of home and long ago. To-morrow, or next day, perhaps, I may be
+strong enough to leave this. I want to be back there again. Nay, don't
+refuse me," said he, timidly.
+
+"When you are equal to the journey--"
+
+"I have a still longer one before me, Dora, and even less preparation
+for it. Harry, I have something to say to you, if I were strong enough
+to say it,--this evening, perhaps." Wearied by the efforts he had made,
+he lay back again with a heavy sigh, and was silent.
+
+"Is he worse--is he weaker?" asked his son.
+
+A mournful nod of the head was her reply.
+
+Young Martin arose and stole noiselessly from the room, he scarcely knew
+whither; he indeed cared not which way he turned. The future threw its
+darkest shadows before him. He had little to hope for, as little to
+love. His servant gave him a letter which Massingbred had left on his
+departure, but he never opened it; and in a listless vacuity he wandered
+out into the wood.
+
+It was evening as he turned homeward. His first glance was towards the
+windows of his father's room. They were wont to be closely shuttered and
+fastened; now one of them lay partly open, and a slight breeze stirred
+the curtain within. A faint, sickly fear of he knew not what crept over
+him. He walked on quicker; but as he drew nigh the door, his servant met
+him. "Well!" cried he, as though expecting a message.
+
+"Yes, sir, it is all over; he went off about an hour since." The man
+added something; but Martin heard no more, but hurried to his room, and
+locked the door.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXVII. A VERY BRIEF INTERVIEW.
+
+When Jack Massingbred found himself once more "in town," and saw that
+the tide of the mighty world there rolled on the same full, boiling
+flood he had remembered it of yore, he began to wonder where and how
+he had latterly been spending his life. There were questions of
+politics--mighty interests of which every one was talking--of which he
+knew nothing; party changes and new social combinations had arisen of
+which he was utterly ignorant. But what he still more acutely deplored
+was that he himself had, so to say, dropped out of the memory of his
+friends, who accosted him with that half-embarrassed air that says,
+"Have you been ill?--or in India?--or how is it that we have n't met you
+about?" It was last session he had made a flash speech,--an effort that
+his own party extolled to the skies, and even the Opposition could only
+criticise the hardihood and presumption of so very young a member of the
+House,--and now already people had ceased to bear him in mind.
+
+The least egotistical of men--and Massingbred did not enter into this
+category--find it occasionally very hard to bear the cool "go-by" the
+world gives them whenever a chance interval has withdrawn them from
+public view. The stern truth of how little each atom of the social
+scheme affects the working of the whole machinery is far from palatable
+in its personal application. Massingbred was probably sensitive enough
+on this score, but too consummate a tactician to let any one guess his
+feelings; and so he lounged down to the "House," and lolled at his Club,
+and took his airings in the Park with all the seeming routine of one who
+had never abdicated these enjoyments for a day.
+
+He had promised, and really meant, to have looked after Martin's affairs
+on his reaching London; but it was almost a week after his return that
+he bethought him of his pledge, his attention being then called to
+the subject by finding on his table the visiting-card of Mr. Maurice
+Scanlan. Perhaps he was not sorry to have something to do; perhaps
+he had some compunctions of conscience for his forgetfulness; at all
+events, he sent his servant at once to Scanlan's hotel, with a request
+that he would call upon him as early as might be. An answer was speedily
+returned that Mr. Scanlan was about to start for Ireland that same
+afternoon, but would wait upon him immediately. The message was scarcely
+delivered when Scanlan himself appeared.
+
+Dressed in deep mourning, but with an easy complacency of manner that
+indicated very little of real grief, he threw himself into a chair,
+saying, "I pledge you my word of honor, it is only to yourself I 'd
+have come this morning, Mr. Massingbred, for I 'm actually killed with
+business. No man would believe the letters I've had to read and
+answer, the documents to examine, the deeds to compare, the papers to
+investigate--"
+
+"Is the business settled, then--or in train of settlement?" broke in
+Jack.
+
+"I suppose it _is_ settled," replied Scanlan, with a slight laugh. "Of
+course you know Mr. Martin is dead?"
+
+"Dead! Good heavens! When did this occur?"
+
+"We got the news--that is, Merl did--the day before yesterday. A friend
+of his who had remained at Baden to watch events started the moment he
+breathed his last, and reached town thirty hours before the mail; not,
+indeed, that the Captain has yet written a line on the subject to any
+one."
+
+"And what of the arrangement? Had you come to terms previously with
+Merl?"
+
+"No; he kept negotiating and fencing with us from day to day, now
+asking for this, now insisting on that, till the evening of his friend's
+arrival, when, by special appointment, I had called to confer with him.
+Then, indeed, he showed no disposition for further delay, but frankly
+told me the news, and said, 'The Conferences are over, Scanlan. I 'm the
+Lord of Cro' Martin.'"
+
+"And is this actually the case,--has he really established his claim in
+such a manner as will stand the test of law and the courts?"
+
+"He owns every acre of it; there's not a flaw in his title; he has
+managed to make all Martin's debts assume the shape of advances in hard
+cash. There is no trace of play transactions throughout the whole. I
+must be off, Mr. Massing-bred; there 's the chaise now at the door."
+
+"Wait one moment, I entreat of you. Can nothing be done? Is it too late
+to attempt any compromise?"
+
+"To be sure it is. He has sent off instructions already to serve the
+notice for ejectment. I 've got orders myself to warn the tenants not to
+pay the last half-year, except into court."
+
+"Why, are _you_ in Mr. Merl's service, then?" asked Jack, with one of
+his quiet laughs.
+
+"I am, and I am not," said Scanlan, reddening. "You know the compact I
+made with Lady Dorothea at Baden. Well, of course there is no longer
+any question about that. Still, if Miss Mary agrees to accept me, I 'll
+stand by the old family! There 's no end of trouble and annoyance we
+could n't give Merl before he got possession. I know the estate well,
+and where the worst fellows on it are to be found! It's one thing to
+have the parchments of a property, and it is another to be able to
+go live on it, and draw the rents. But I can't stay another minute.
+Good-bye, air. Any chance of seeing you in the West soon?"
+
+"I 'm not sure I 'll not go over to-morrow," said Jack, musing.
+
+"I suppose you are going to blarney the constituency?" said Maurice,
+laughing heartily at his coarse conceit. Then suddenly seeing that
+Massingbred did not seem to relish the freedom, he hurriedly repeated
+his leave-takings, and departed.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXVIII. THE DARK SIDE OF A CHARACTER.
+
+"Ye might ken the style of these epistles by this time, Dinah," said Mr.
+Henderson, as he walked leisurely up and down a long low-ceilinged room,
+and addressed himself to a piece of very faded gentility, who sat at a
+writing-table. "She wants to hear naething but what she likes, and, as
+near as may be, in her ain words too."
+
+"I always feel as if I was copying out the same letter every time I
+write," whined out a weak, sickly voice.
+
+"The safest thing ye could do," replied he, gravely. "She never tires
+o' reading that everybody on the estate is a fule or a scoundrel, and
+ye canna be far wrang when ye say the worst o' them all. Hae ye told her
+aboot the burnin' at Kyle-a-Noe?"
+
+"Yes, I have said that you have little doubt it was malicious."
+
+"And hae ye said that there's not a sixpence to be had out of the whole
+townland of Kiltimmon?"
+
+"I have. I have told her that, except Miss Mary herself, nobody would
+venture into the barony."
+
+"The greater fule yerself, then," said he, angrily. "Couldna ye see that
+she'll score this as a praise o' the young leddy's courage? Ye maun just
+strike it out, ma'am, and say that the place is in open rebellion--"
+
+"I thought you bade me say that Miss Mary had gone down there and spoken
+to the people--"
+
+"I bade ye say," broke he angrily in, "that Miss Mary declared no rent
+should be demanded o' them in their present distress; that she threw
+the warrants into the fire, and vowed that if we called a sale o' their
+chattels, she 'd do the same at the castle, and give the people the
+proceeds."
+
+"You only said that she was in such a passion that she declared she 'd
+be right in doing so."
+
+"I hae nae time for hair-splitting, ma'am. I suppose if she had a right
+she 'd exercise it! Put down the words as I gie them to ye! Ye hae no
+forgotten the conspeeracy?"
+
+"I gave it exactly as you told me, and I copied out the two paragraphs
+in the papers about it, beginning, 'Great scandal,' and 'If our landed
+gentry expect--'"
+
+"That's right; and ye hae added the private history of Joan? They 'll
+make a fine thing o' that on the trial, showing the chosen associate
+o' a young leddy to hae been naething better than--Ech! what are ye
+blubberin' aboot,--is it yer feelin's agen? Ech! ma'am, ye are too
+sentimental for a plain man like me!"
+
+This rude speech was called up by a smothering effort to conceal
+emotion, which would not be repressed, but burst forth in a violent fit
+of sobbing.
+
+"I know you didn't mean it. I know you were not thinking--"
+
+"If ye canna keep your ain counsel, ye must just pay the cost o' it,"
+said he, savagely. "Finish the letter there, and let me send it to the
+post. I wanted ye to say a' about the Nelligans comin' up to visit
+Miss Mary, and she goin' ower the grounds wi' them, and sendin' them
+pineapples and grapes, and how that the doctor's girls are a'ways wi'
+her, and that she takes old Catty out to drive along wi' herself in
+the pony phaeton, which is condescendin' in a way her Leddyship will no
+approve o'. There was mony a thing beside I had in my head, but ye hae
+driven them a' clean awa' wi' your feelin's!" And he gave the last word
+with an almost savage severity.
+
+"Bide a wee!" cried he, as she was folding up the letter. "Ye may add
+that Mister Scanlan has taken to shootin' over the preserves we were
+keepin' for the Captain, and if her Leddyship does not wish to banish
+the woodcocks a'the-gither, she 'd better gie an order to stop him.
+Young Nelli-gan had a special permission from Miss Mary hersel' and if
+it was na that he canna hit a haystack at twenty yards, there 'd no be
+a cock pheasant in the demesne! I think I 'm looking at her as she reads
+this," said he, with a malicious grin. "Ech, sirs, won't her great black
+eyebrows meet on her forehead, and her mouth be drawn in till never a
+bit of a red lip be seen! Is na that a chaise I see comin' up the road?"
+cried he, suddenly. "Look yonder!"
+
+"I thought I saw something pass," said she, trying to strain her eyes
+through the tears that now rose to them.
+
+"It's a post-chaise wi' twa trunks on the top. I wonder who's comin' in
+it?" said Henderson, as he opened the sash-door, and stood awaiting the
+arrival. The chaise swept rapidly round the beech copse, and drew up
+before the door; the postilion, dismounting, lowered the steps, and
+assisted a lady to alight. She threw back her veil as she stood on the
+ground, and Kate Henderson, somewhat jaded-looking and pale from her
+journey, was before her father. A slight flush--very slight--rose to
+his face as he beheld her, and without uttering a word he turned and
+re-entered the house.
+
+"Ye are aboot to see a visitor, ma'am," said he to his wife; and, taking
+his hat, passed out of the room. Meanwhile Kate watched the postboy as
+he untied the luggage and deposited it at her side.
+
+"Did n't I rowl you along well, my Lady?--ten miles in little more than
+an hour," said he, pointing to his smoking cattle.
+
+"More speed than we needed," said she, with a melancholy smile, while
+she placed some silver in his hand.
+
+"What's this here, my Lady? It's like one of the owld tenpenny bits,"
+said he, turning over and over a coin as he spoke.
+
+"It's French money," said she, "and unfortunately I have got none other
+left me."
+
+"Sure they'll give you what you want inside," said he, pointing towards
+the house.
+
+"No, no; take this. It is a crown piece, and they'll surely change it
+for you in the town." And so saying, she turned towards the door.
+When she made one step towards it, however, she stopped. A painful
+irresolution seemed to possess her; but, recovering it, she turned the
+handle and entered.
+
+"We did not know you were coming; at least, he never told me," said her
+stepmother, in a weak, broken voice, as she arose from her seat.
+
+"There was no time to apprise you," said Kate, as she walked towards the
+fire and leaned her arm on the chimney-piece.
+
+"You came away suddenly, then? Had anything unpleasant--was there any
+reason--"
+
+"I had been desirous of leaving for some time back. Lady Dorothea only
+gave her consent on Tuesday last,--I think it was Tuesday; but my head
+is not very clear, for I am somewhat tired." There was an indescribable
+sadness in the way these simple words were uttered and in the sigh which
+followed them.
+
+"I 'm afraid he 'll not be pleased at it!" said the other, timidly.
+
+Another sigh, but still weaker than the former, was Kate's only reply.
+
+"And how did you leave Mr. Martin? They tell us here that his case is
+hopeless," said Mrs. Henderson.
+
+"He is very ill, indeed; the doctors give no hope of saving him. Is Miss
+Martin fully aware of his state?"
+
+"Who can tell? We scarcely ever see her. You know that she never was
+very partial to your father, and latterly there has been a greater
+distance than ever between them. They differ about everything; and with
+that independent way he has--"
+
+A wide stare from Kate's full dark eyes, an expression of astonishment,
+mingled with raillery, in her features, here arrested the speaker, who
+blushed deeply in her embarrassment.
+
+"Go on," said Kate, gently. "Pray continue, and let me hear what it is
+that his independence accomplishes."
+
+"Oh, dear!" sighed the other. "I see well you are not changed, Kate.
+You have come back with your old haughty spirit, and sure you know well,
+dear, that he 'll not bear it."
+
+"I 'll not impose any burden on his forbearance. A few days' shelter--a
+week or two at furthest--will not be, perhaps, too much to ask."
+
+"So, then, you have a situation in view, Kate?" asked she, more eagerly.
+
+"The world is a tolerably wide one, and I 'm sure there is room for me
+somewhere, even without displacing another. But let us talk of anything
+else. How are the Nelligans? and Joe, what is he doing?"
+
+"The old people are just as you left them; but Mr. Joseph is a great
+man now,--dines with the Lord-Lieutenant, and goes into all the grand
+society of Dublin."
+
+"Is he spoiled by his elevation?"
+
+"Your father thinks him haughtier than he used to be; but many say that
+he is exactly what he always was. Mrs. Nelligan comes up frequently to
+the cottage now, and dines with Miss Martin. I 'm sure I don't know how
+my Lady would like to see her there."
+
+"She is not very likely," said Kate, dryly.
+
+"Why not?"
+
+"I mean, that nothing is less probable than Lady Dorothea's return
+here."
+
+"I suppose not!" half sighed Mrs. Henderson, for hers was one of those
+sorrowful temperaments that extract only the bitter from the cup of
+life. In reality, she had little reason to wish for Lady Dorothea's
+presence, but still she could make a "very good grievance" out of her
+absence, and find it a fitting theme for regret. "What reason do you
+mean to give for your coming home, Kate, if he should ask you?" inquired
+she, after a pause.
+
+"That I felt dissatisfied with my place," replied Kate, coldly.
+
+"And we were always saying what a piece of good luck it was for you to
+be there! Miss Mary told Mrs. Nelligan--it was only the other day--that
+her uncle could n't live without you,--that you nursed him, and read to
+him, and what not; and as to her Ladyship, that she never took a drive
+in the carriage, or answered a note, without asking your advice first."
+
+"What a profound impression Miss Martin must have received of my talents
+for intrigue!" said Kate, sneeringly.
+
+"I believe not. I think she said something very kind and good-natured,
+just as if it was only people who had really very great gifts that could
+condescend to make themselves subservient without humiliation. I know
+she said 'without humiliation,' because your father laughed when he
+heard of it, and remarked, 'If it's Kate's humility they like, they are
+assuredly thankful for small mercies!"
+
+"I should like to go over and see Miss Martin. What distance is it from
+this to the cottage?"
+
+"It's full three miles; but it's all through the demesne."
+
+"I'm a good walker, and I'll go," said she, rising. "But first, might I
+ask for a little refreshment,--a cup of tea? Oh, I forgot," added she,
+smiling, "tea is one of the forbidden luxuries here."
+
+"No; but your father doesn't like to see it in the daytime. If you'd
+take it in your own room--"
+
+"Of course, and be most thankful. Am I to have the little room with the
+green paper, where I used to be, long ago?"
+
+"Well, indeed, I can scarcely tell. The bed was taken down last autumn;
+and as we never thought of your coming home--"
+
+"Home!" sighed Kate, involuntarily.
+
+"But come into my room, and I 'll fetch you a cup of tea directly."
+
+"No, no; it is better not to risk offending him," said Kate, calmly. "I
+remember, now, that this was one of his antipathies. Give me anything
+else, for I have not eaten to-day."
+
+While her stepmother went in search of something to offer her, Kate sat
+down beside the fire, deep in thought. She had removed her bonnet, and
+her long silky hair fell in rich masses over her neck and shoulders,
+giving a more fixed expression to her features, which were of deathlike
+paleness. And so she sat, gazing intently on the fire, as though
+she were reading her very destiny in the red embers before her. Her
+preoccupation of mind was such that she never noticed the opening of
+the door, nor remarked that her father had entered. The noise of a chair
+being moved suddenly startled her. She looked up, and there he stood,
+his hat on his head and his arms closely folded on his breast, at the
+opposite side of the fire.
+
+"Well, lassie," said he, after a long and steady stare at her, "ye hae
+left your place, or been turned oot o' it,--whilk is the case?"
+
+"I came away of my own accord," said she, calmly.
+
+"And against my Leddy's wish?"
+
+"No, with her full consent."
+
+"And how did ye do it? for in her last letter to my sel', she says, 'I
+desire ye, therefore, to bear in mind that any step she takes on this
+head'--meaning about going away--'shall have been adopted in direct
+opposition to my wishes.' What has ye done since that?"
+
+"I have succeeded in convincing her Ladyship that I was right in leaving
+her!" said Kate.
+
+"Was it the force of your poleetical convictions that impelled ye to
+this course?" said he, with a bitter grin, "for they tell me ye are a
+rare champion o' the rights o' the people, and scruple not to denounce
+the upper classes, while ye eat their bread."
+
+"I denounce no one; nor, so far as I know myself, is ingratitude amongst
+my faults."
+
+"Maybe, if one were to tak' your ain narrative for it, ye hae nae faults
+worse than mere failings! But this is na telling me why ye left my
+Leddy."
+
+Kate made no answer, but sat steadily watching the fire.
+
+"Ye wad rayther, mayhap, that I asked hersel' aboot it! Well, be it so.
+And noo comes anither point. Do ye think that if your conduct has in
+any way given displeasure to your mistress, or offended those in whose
+service ye were,--do ye think, I say, that ye hae the right to involve
+_me_ in your shame and disgrace?"
+
+"Do you mean," said she, calmly, "that I had no right to come here?"
+
+"It 's just exactly what I mean; that if ye canna mak' friends for
+yoursel', ye ought not to turn away those whilk befriend your family."
+
+"But what was I to have done, then?" said she, gently. "There were
+circumstances that required--imperatively required me--to leave Lady
+Dorothea--"
+
+"Let me hear them," said he, breaking in, "It would lead me to speak of
+others than myself,--of events which are purely family matters,--were I
+to enter upon this theme. Besides," said she, rising, "I am not, so far
+as I know, on my trial. There is not anything laid to my charge. I have
+no apologies to render."
+
+At this moment her stepmother appeared with a tray at the door, and
+seeing Henderson, endeavored to retire unobserved, but his quick eye
+had already detected her, and he cried out, "Come here,--ye canna do
+too much honor to a young leddy who has such a vara profound esteem
+for hersel'! Cake and wine! my faith! No but ye 'll deem it vara vulgar
+fare, after the dainties ye hae been used to! And yet, lassie, these are
+nae the habits here!"
+
+"She has eaten nothing to-day!" meekly observed her stepmother.
+
+"My fayther wad hae askit her hoo much has she earned the day?" said
+Henderson, severely.
+
+"You are quite right, sir," broke in Kate,--"I have earned nothing. Not
+just yet," added she, as her stepmother pressed a glass of wine on her
+acceptance; "a little later, perhaps. I have no appetite now."
+
+"Are ye sae stupid, ma'am, that ye canna see ye are dealin' wi' a fine
+leddy, wha is no obleeged to hae the same mind twa minutes thegither?
+Ye 'll hae to train wee Janet to be a' ready for whate'er caprice is
+uppermost. But mine me, lassie,"--here he turned a look of stern meaning
+towards her,--"ye hae tried for mony a lang day to subdue _me_ to your
+whims and fancies, as they tell me ye hae done wi' sae mony others, and
+ye are just as far fra it noo as the first time ye tried it. Ye canna
+cheat nor cajole _me! I_ know ye!" And with these words, uttered in a
+tone of intense passion, he slowly walked out of the room.
+
+"Had he been angry with you?--had anything occurred before I came in?"
+asked her stepmother.
+
+"Very little," sighed Kate, wearily. "He was asking me why I came here,
+I believe. I could scarcely tell him; perhaps I don't very well know,
+myself."
+
+"He can't get it out of his head," said the other, in a low, stealthy
+whisper, "that, if you should leave Lady Dorothea, he will be turned
+away out of the stewardship. He is always saying it,--he repeats it even
+in his dreams. But for that, he 'd not have met you so--so--unkindly."
+
+Kate pressed her hand affectionately, and smiled a thankful
+acknowledgment of this speech. "And the cottage," said she, rallying
+suddenly, "is about three miles off?"
+
+"Not more. But you could scarcely walk there and back again. Besides, it
+is already growing late, and you have no chance of seeing Miss Mary if
+you 're not there by breakfast-time, since, when she comes home of an
+evening, she admits no one. She reads or studies, I believe, all the
+evening."
+
+"I think she'd see me," said Kate; "I should have so much to tell her
+about her friends. I 'm sure she 'd see _me_,--at least, I'll try."
+
+"But you'll eat something,--you 'll at least drink a glass of wine
+before you set out?"
+
+"I do not like to refuse you," said Kate, smiling good-naturedly, "but I
+could n't swallow now. I have a choking feeling here in my throat, like
+a heavy cold, that seems as though it would suffocate me. Good-bye, for
+a while. I shall be quite well, once I 'm in the open air. Good-bye!"
+And, so saying, she wrapped her shawl around her, and motioning a
+farewell with her hand, set out on her errand.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIX. THE COTTAGE.
+
+It was one of those fresh and breezy days where brilliant flashes
+of sunlight alternate with deep shadow, making of every landscape a
+succession of pictures, that Kate Henderson set out on her way to the
+cottage. Her path led through the demesne, but it was as wild as any
+forest scene in Germany, now wending through dark woods, now issuing
+forth over swelling lawns, from which the view extended many a mile
+away,--at one moment displaying the great rugged mountains of Connemara,
+and at another, the broad blue sea, heaving heavily, and thundering in
+sullen roar against the rocks.
+
+The fast-flitting clouds, the breezy grass, the wind-shaken foliage, and
+the white-crested waves, all were emblems of life; there was motion and
+sound and conflict! and yet to her heart, as she walked along, these
+influences imparted no sense of pleasure or relief. For a few seconds,
+perhaps, would she suddenly awake to the consciousness of the fair scene
+before her, and murmur to herself, perchance, the lines of some favorite
+poet; but in another moment her gloomy thoughtfulness was back again,
+and with bent-down head was she again moving onward. At times she
+walked rapidly forward, and then, relaxing her pace, she would stroll
+listlessly along, as though no object engaged her. And so was it in
+reality,--her main desire being to be free, in the open air; to be from
+beneath that roof whose shadow seemed to darken her very heart! Could
+that haughty spirit have humbled itself in sorrow, she might have found
+relief; but her proud nature had no such resource, and in her full heart
+injury and wrong had alone their place.
+
+"And this," burst she forth at length,--"and this is Home! this the
+dreamland of those far away over the seas,--the cherished spot of all
+affections,--the quiet nook wherein we breathe an atmosphere of love,
+blending our lives with all dearest to us. Is it, then, that all is
+hollow, false, and untrue; or is it that I alone have no part in the
+happiness that is diffused around me? I know not which would be the
+sadder!"
+
+Thus, reasoning sadly, she went along, when suddenly, on the slope of a
+gentle hill in front of her, gracefully encircled with a young wood
+of larch and copper-beech, she caught sight of the cottage. It was a
+tasteful imitation of those seen in the Oberland, and with its wild
+background of lofty mountain, an appropriate ornament to the landscape.
+
+A small stream running over a rocky, broken bed formed the boundary of
+the little grounds, and over this a bridge of a single plank conducted
+the way to the cottage. The whole was simple and unpretending; there
+was none of that smart trimness which gives to such scenes the air of
+an imitation. The lawn, it is true, was neatly shaven, and the
+flower-plots, which broke its uniformity, clean from weeds; but the
+flowers were of the simplest kind,--the crocus and the daffodil had to
+stand no dangerous rivalry, and the hyacinth had nothing to vie with.
+
+Kate loitered for some time here, now gazing at the wild, stern
+landscape, now listening to the brawling rivulet, whose sounds were the
+only ones in the stillness. As she drew nigh the cottage, she found
+the windows of a little drawing-room open. She looked in: all was
+comfortable and neat-looking, but of the strictest simplicity. She next
+turned to the little porch, and pulled the bell; in a few seconds the
+sounds of feet were heard approaching, and a very old woman, whose
+appearance and dress were the perfection of neatness, appeared.
+
+"Don't you know me, Mrs. Broon?" said Kate, gently.
+
+"I do not, then, my Lady," said she, respectfully, "for my eyes is
+gettin' dimmer every day."
+
+"I 'm Kate Henderson, Mrs. Broon. Do you forget me?"
+
+"Indeed I do not," said Catty, gravely. "You were here with the master
+and my Lady?"
+
+"Yes. I went away with them to Germany; but I have come home for a
+while, and wish to pay my respects to Miss Mary."
+
+"She isn't at home to-day," was the dry response.
+
+"But she will return soon, I conclude. She'll be back some time in the
+evening, won't she?"
+
+"If she plazes it, she will. There's nobody to control or make her do
+but what she likes herself," said Catty.
+
+"I ask," said Kate, "because I'm a little tired. I've come off a long
+journey, and if you'd allow me to rest myself, and wait awhile in the
+hope of seeing Miss Martin, I'd be very thankful."
+
+"Come in, then," said Catty; but the faint sigh with which the words
+were uttered, gave but a scant significance of welcome.
+
+Kate followed her into the little drawing-room, and at a sign from the
+old woman, took a seat.
+
+"Miss Mary is quite well, I'm glad to hear," said Kate, endeavoring to
+introduce some conversation.
+
+"Will they ever come back?" asked the old woman, in a stern, harsh
+voice, while she paid no attention whatever to Kate's remark.
+
+"It is very unlikely," said Kate. "Your poor master had not long to live
+when I came away. He was sinking rapidly."
+
+"So I heard," muttered the other, dryly; "the last letter from Mr.
+Repton said 'he was n't expected.'"
+
+"I fear it will be a great shock to Miss Mary," said Kate.
+
+The old woman nodded her head slowly several times without speaking.
+
+"And, perhaps, cause great changes here?" continued Kate.
+
+"There's changes enough, and too many already," muttered Catty. "I
+remember the place upwards of eighty years. I was born in the little
+house to the right of the road as you come up from Kelly's mills. There
+was no mill there then, nor a school-house, no, nor a dispensary either!
+Musha, but the people was better off, and happier, when they had none of
+them."
+
+Kate smiled at the energy with which these words were uttered,
+surmising, rightfully, that Catty's condemnation of progress had a
+direct application to herself.
+
+"Now it's all readin' and writin', teachin' honest people to be rogues,
+and givin' them new contrivances to cheat their masters. When I knew
+Cro' Martin first," added she, almost fiercely, "there was n't a Scotch
+steward on the estate; but there was nobody turned out of his houldin',
+and there was n't a cabin unroofed to make the people seek shelter under
+a ditch."
+
+"The world would then seem growing worse every day," remarked Kate,
+quietly.
+
+"To be sure it is. Why would n't it? Money is in every one's heart.
+Nobody cares for his own flesh and blood. 'T is all money! What will I
+get if I take that farm over another man's head, or marry that girl that
+likes somebody better than me? 'Tis to be rich they're all strivin',
+and the devil never made people his own children so completely as by
+teachin' them to love goold!"
+
+"Your young mistress has but little of this spirit in her heart?" said
+Kate.
+
+"Signs on it! look at the life she leads: up before daybreak, and away
+many times before I 'm awake. She makes a cup of coffee herself, and
+saddles the pony, too, if Patsey is n't there to do it; and she 's off
+to Glentocher, or Knock-mullen, twelve, fourteen miles down the coast,
+with barley for one, and a bottle of wine for the other. Sometimes she
+has a basket with her, just a load to carry, with tay and shugar; ay,
+and--for she forgets nothing--toys for the children, too, and clothes,
+and even books. And then to see herself, she 's not as well dressed
+as her own maid used to be. There 's not a night she does n't sit up
+patchin' and piecin' her clothes. 'T is Billy at the cross-roads made
+her shoes last time for her, just because he was starvin' with nothing'
+to do. She ordered them, and she wears them, too; it makes him so proud,
+she says, to see them. And this is the niece of the Martins of
+Cro' Martin! without one of her kith or kin to welcome her home at
+nightfall,--without father or mother, brother or sister,--without a kind
+voice to say 'God bless her,' as she falls off to sleep many a time in
+that big chair there; and I take off her shoes without her knowin' it,
+she does be so weary and tired; and in her dhrames it 's always talking
+to the people, givin' them courage, and cheerin' them up, tellin' them
+there 's good times for every one; and once, the other evenin', she
+sang a bit of a song, thinkin' she was in Mat Leahy's cabin amusin' the
+children, and she woke up laughin', and said, 'Catty, I 've had such a
+pleasant dhrame. I thought I had little Nora, my godchild, on my knee,
+and was teachin' her "Why are the daisies in the grass?" I can't tell
+you how happy I felt!' There it was: the only thing like company to her
+poor heart was a dhrame!"
+
+"I do not wonder that you love her, Catty," said Kate; and the words
+fell tremulously from her lips.
+
+"Love her! what's the use of such as me lovin' her?" cried the old
+woman, querulously. "Sure, it's not one of my kind knows how good she
+is! If you only seen her comin' in here, after dark, maybe, wet and
+weary and footsore, half famished with cold and hunger,--out the whole
+livelong day, over the mountains, where there was fever and shakin'
+ague, and starvin' people, ravin' mad between disease and destitution;
+and the first word out of her mouth will be, 'Oh, Catty, how grateful
+you and I ought to be with our warm roof over us, and our snug fire to
+sit at,' never thinkin' of who she is and what she has the right to, but
+just makin' herself the same as _me_. And then she 'd tell me where she
+was, and what she seen, and how well the people was bearin' up under
+their trials,--all the things they said to her, for they 'd tell her
+things they would n't tell the priest. 'Catty,' said she, t' other
+night, 'it looks like heartlessness in me to be in such high spirits
+in the midst of all this misery here; but I feel as if my courage was a
+well that others were drinking out of; and when I go into a cabin, the
+sick man, as he turns his head round, looks happier, and I feel as if
+it was my spirit that was warmin' and cheerin' him; and when a poor
+sick sufferin' child looks up at me and smiles, I 'm ready to drop on my
+knees and thank God in gratitude.'"
+
+Kate covered her face with her hands, and never spoke; and now the old
+woman, warming with the theme she loved best, went on to tell various
+incidents and events of Mary's life,--the perilous accidents which
+befell her, the dangers she braved, the fatigues she encountered. Even
+recounted by _her_, there was a strange adventurous character that ran
+through these recitals, showing that Mary Martin, in all she thought and
+said and acted, was buoyed and sustained by a sort of native chivalry
+that made her actually court the incidents where she incurred the
+greatest hazard. It was plain to see what charm such traits possessed
+for her who recorded them, and how in her old Celtic blood ran the
+strong current of delight in all that pertained to the adventurous and
+the wild.
+
+"'Tis her own father's nature is strong in her," said Catty, with
+enthusiasm. "Show him the horse that nobody could back, tell him of a
+storm where no fisherman would launch his boat, point out a cliff that
+no man could climb, and let me see who 'd hould him! She 's so like him,
+that when there 's anything daring to be done you would n't know her
+voice from his own. There, now, I hear her without," cried the old
+woman, as, rising suddenly, she approached the window. "Don't you hear
+something?"
+
+"Nothing but the wind through the trees," said Kate.
+
+"Ay, but _I_ did, and my ears are older than yours. She's riding through
+the river now; I hear the water splashin'."
+
+Kate tried to catch the sounds, but could not; she walked out upon the
+lawn to listen, but except the brawling of the stream among the rocks,
+there was nothing to be heard.
+
+"D' ye see her comin'?" asked Catty, eagerly.
+
+"No. Your ears must have deceived you. There is no one coming."
+
+"I heard her voice, as I hear yours now. I heard her spake to the mare,
+as she always does when she 's plungin' into the river. There, now,
+don't you hear that?"
+
+"I hear nothing, I assure you, my dear Mrs. Broon. It is your own
+anxiety that is misleading you; but if you like, I 'll go down towards
+the river and see." And without waiting for a reply Kate hastened
+down the slope. As she went, she could not help reflecting over the
+superstition which attaches so much importance to these delusions,
+giving them the character of actual warnings. It was doubtless from the
+mind dwelling so forcibly on Miss Martin's perilous life that the old
+woman's apprehensions had assumed this palpable form, and thus invented
+the very images which should react upon her with terror.
+
+"Just as I thought," cried Kate, as she stood on the bank of the stream;
+"all silent and deserted, no one within sight." And slowly she retraced
+her steps towards the cottage. The old woman stood at the door, pale and
+trembling; an attempt to smile was on her features, but her heart denied
+the courage of the effort.
+
+"Where is she now?" cried Catty, wildly. "She rang the bell this minute,
+and I heerd the mare trottin' round to the stable by herself, as she
+always does. But where 's Miss Mary?"
+
+"My dear Mrs. Broon," said Kate, in her kindest accents, "it is just as
+I told you. Your mind is anxious and uneasy about Miss Martin; you are
+unhappy at her absence, and you think at every stir you hear her coming;
+but I have been to the river-side, and there is no one there. I 'll go
+round to the stables, if you wish it."
+
+"There 's no tracks of a hoof on the gravel," muttered the old woman, in
+a broken voice; "there was nobody here!"
+
+"So I said," replied Kate. "It was a mere delusion,--a fancy."
+
+"A delusion,--a fancy!" cried Catty, scornfully; "that's the way they
+always spake of whatever they don't understand. It's easier to say that
+than confess you don't see how to explain a thing; but I heerd the same
+sounds before you came to-day; ay, and I went down to see why she was
+n't comin', and at the pool there was bubbles and froth on the water,
+just as if a baste had passed through, but no livin' thing to be seen.
+Was n't that a delusion, too?"
+
+"An accident, perchance. Only think, what lives of misery we should lead
+were we ever tracing our own fears, and connecting them with all the
+changes that go on around us!"
+
+"It's two days she's away, now," muttered the old woman, who only
+heeded her own thoughts; "she was to be back last night, or early this
+mornin'."
+
+"Where had she gone to?" asked Kate, who now saw that the other had
+lapsed into confidence.
+
+"She's gone to the islands!--to Innishmore, and maybe, on to Brannock!"
+
+"That's a long way out to sea," said Kate, thoughtfully; "but still, the
+weather is fine, and the day favorable. Had she any other object than
+pleasure in this excursion?"
+
+"Pleasure is it?" croaked Catty. "'Tis much pleasure she does be given
+herself! Her pleasure is to be where there 's fever and want,--in the
+lonely cabin, where the sick is lyin'! It 's to find a poor crayture
+that run away from home she 's gone now,--one Joan Landy. She's missin'
+this two months, and nobody knows where she 's gone to! and Miss Mary
+got so uneasy at last that she could n't sleep by night nor rest by
+day,--always talkin' about her, and say in' as much as it was all her
+fault; as if _she_ could know why she went, or where?"
+
+"Did she go alone on this errand, then?"
+
+"To be sure she did. Who could she have with her? She towld Loony she 'd
+want the boat with four men in it, and maybe to stay out three days, for
+she 'd go to all the islands before she came back."
+
+"Loony 's the best sailor on the coast, I 've heard; and with such
+weather as this there is no cause for alarm."
+
+Catty did not seem to heed the remark; she felt that within her against
+which the words of consolation availed but little, and she sat brooding
+sorrowfully and in silence.
+
+"The night will soon be fallin' now," said she, at last. "I hope she's
+not at sea!"
+
+In spite of herself, Kate Henderson caught the contagion of the old
+woman's terrors, and felt a dreamy, undefined dread of coming evil. As
+she looked out, however, at the calm and fair landscape, which, as
+day declined, grew each moment more still, she rallied from the gloomy
+thoughts, and said,--"I wish I knew how to be of any service to you,
+Mrs. Broon. If you could think of anything I could do--anywhere I could
+go--" She stopped suddenly at a gesture from the old woman, who, lifting
+her hand to impress silence, stood a perfect picture of eager anxiety
+to hear. Bending down her head, old Catty stood for several seconds
+motionless.
+
+"Don't ye hear it now?" broke she in. "Listen! I thought I heerd
+something like a wailin' sound far off, but it is the wind. See how the
+tree-tops are bendin'!--That's three times I heerd it now," said Catty.
+"If ye live to be as old as me, you 'll not think light of a warnin'.
+You think your hearin' better because you're younger; but I tell you
+that there 's sounds that only reach ears that are goin' to where the
+voices came from. When eyes grow dim to sights of this world, they are
+strainin' to catch a glimpse of them that's beyond it." Although no
+tears rose to her eyes, the withered face trembled in her agony, and her
+clasped hands shook in the suffering of her sorrow.
+
+Against impressions of this sort, Kate knew well enough how little
+reasoning availed, and she forbore to press arguments which she was
+aware would be unsuccessful. She tried, however, to turn the current of
+the old woman's thoughts, by leading her to speak of the condition of
+the country and the state of the people. Catty gave short, abrupt, and
+unwilling answers to all she asked, and Kate at length arose to take her
+leave.
+
+"You're goin' away, are ye?" said Catty, half angrily.
+
+"I have only just remembered that I have a long way to walk, and it is
+already growing late."
+
+"Ay, and ye 're impatient to be back again, at home, beside your own
+fire, with your own people. But _she_ has no home, and her own has
+deserted her!"
+
+"Mine has not many charms for me!" muttered Kate to herself.
+
+"It's happy for you that has father and mother," went on the old woman.
+"Them 's the only ones, after all!--the only ones that never loves the
+less, the less we desarve it! I don't wonder ye came back again!" And in
+a sort of envious bitterness Catty wished her a good-night.
+
+If the distance she had to walk was not shortened by the tenor of her
+thoughts, as little did she feel impatient to press onward. Dreary and
+sad enough were her reveries. Of the wild visionary ambitions which once
+had stirred her heart, there remained nothing but disappointments. She
+had but passed the threshold of life to find all dreary and desolate;
+but perhaps the most painful feeling of the moment was the fact that now
+pressed conviction on her, and told that in the humble career of such a
+one as Mary Martin there lay a nobler heroism and a higher devotion
+than in the most soaring path of political ambition, and that all the
+theorizing as to popular rights made but a sorry figure beside the
+actual benefits conferred by one true-hearted lover of her kind. "She
+is right, and I am wrong!" muttered she to herself. "In declining to
+entertain questions of statecraft she showed herself above, and not
+beneath, the proud position she had taken. The very lowliness of
+this task is its glory. Oh, if I could but win her confidence and be
+associated in such a labor! and yet my very birth denies me the prestige
+that hers confers." And then she thought of home, and all the coldness
+of that cheerless greeting smote upon her heart.
+
+The moon was up ere Kate arrived at her father's door. She tapped at
+it gently, almost timidly. Her stepmother, as if expecting her, came
+quickly, and in a low, cautious whisper told her that she would find her
+supper ready in her bedroom.
+
+"To-morrow, perhaps, he may be in better humor or better spirits.
+Good-night." And so Kate silently stole along to her room, her proud
+heart swelling painfully, and her tearless eye burning with all the heat
+of a burning brain.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXX. "A TEA-PARTY" AT MRS. CRONAN'S
+
+Once more, but for the last time, we are at Kilkieran. To a dreary day
+of incessant rain succeeded an evening still drearier. Wild gusts swept
+along the little shore, and shook the frail windows and ill-fitting
+doors of the cottages, while foam and sea-drift were wafted over the
+roofs, settling like snow-flakes on the tall cliffs above them. And yet
+it was midsummer! By the almanac the time was vouched to be the opening
+of the season; a fact amply corroborated by the fashionable assemblage
+then enjoying the hospitalities of Mrs. Cronan's tea-table. There they
+were, with a single exception, the same goodly company already presented
+to the reader in an early chapter of our story. We have already
+mentioned the great changes which time had worked in the appearance
+of the little watering-place. The fostering care of proprietorship
+withdrawn, the ornamental villa of the Martins converted into a
+miserable village inn, the works of the pier and harbor suspended, and
+presenting in their unfinished aspect the dreary semblance of ruin and
+decay,--all conspired with the falling fortunes of the people to make
+the scene a sad one. Little evidence of this decline, however, could be
+traced in the aspect of that pleasant gathering, animated with all its
+ancient taste for whist, scandal, and shrimps; their appetite for such
+luxuries seeming rather to have increased than diminished by years.
+Not that we presume to say they could claim any immunity against the
+irrevocable decrees of age. Unhappily, the confession may be deemed not
+exactly in accordance with gallantry; but it is strictly true, time
+had no more forgotten the living than the inanimate accessories of
+the picture. Miss Busk, of the Emporium, had grown more sour and more
+stately. The vinegar of her temperament was verging upon verjuice, and
+the ill opinion of mankind experience enforced had written itself
+very legibly on her features. The world had not improved upon her by
+acquaintance. Not so Captain Bodkin; fatter and more wheezy than ever,
+he seemed to relish life rather more than when younger. He had given up,
+too, that long struggle with himself about bathing, and making up his
+mind to suffer no "sea-change;" he was, therefore, more cheerful than
+before.
+
+As for Mrs. Cronan, "the little comforts she was used to" had sorely
+diminished by the pressure of the times, and, in consequence, she
+drew unlimited drafts upon the past to fill up the deficiencies of the
+present. Strange enough is it, that the faults and follies of society
+are just as adhesive ingredients as its higher qualities! These
+people had grown so used to each other in all their eccentric ways
+and oddities, that they had become fond of them; like a pilot long
+accustomed to rocks and sandbanks, they could only steer their course
+where there was something to avoid!
+
+The remainder of the goodly company had grown stouter or thinner,
+jollier or more peevish, as temperament inclined; for it is with human
+nature as with wine: if the liquor does not get racier with years, it
+degenerates sadly.
+
+The first act of the whist and backgammon playing was over, and the
+party now sat, stood, crouched, lounged, or lay, as chance and the state
+of the furniture permitted, at supper. At the grand table, of course,
+were the higher dignitaries, such as Father Maher, the Captain, Miss
+Busk, and Mrs. Clinch; but cockles were eaten, and punch discussed in
+various very odd quarters; bursts of joyous laughter, too, came from
+dark pantries, and sounds of merriment mingled with the jangling crash
+of kitchen utensils. Reputations were roasted and pancakes fried,
+characters and chickens alike mangled, and all the hubbub of a festival
+prevailed in a scene where the efforts of the fair hostess were directed
+to produce an air of unblemished elegance and gentility.
+
+Poor Clinch, the revenue officer, who invariably eat what he called "his
+bit" in some obscure quarter, alone and companionless, was twice "had
+up" before the authorities for the row and uproar that prevailed, and
+underwent a severe cross-examination, "as to where he was when Miss
+Cullenane was making the salad," and, indeed, cut a very sorry figure
+at the conclusion of the inquiry. All the gayeties and gravities of
+the scene, however, gradually toned down as the serious debate of the
+evening came on; which was no other than the lamentable condition of
+the prospects of Kilkieran, and the unanimous opinion of the ruinous
+consequences that must ensue from the absence of the proprietor.
+
+"We 've little chance of getting up the news-room now," said the
+Captain. "The Martins won't give a sixpence for anything."
+
+"It is something to give trade an impulse we want, sir," broke in
+Miss Busk,--"balls and assemblies; evening reunions of the _�lite_ of
+society, where the elegance of the toilet should rival the _distingu�_
+air of the company."
+
+"That's word for word out of the 'Intelligence,'" cried the Captain.
+"It's unparliamentary to quote the newspapers."
+
+"I detest the newspapers," broke in Miss Busk, angrily; "after
+advertising the Emporium for two seasons in the 'Galway Celt,' they gave
+me a leading article beginning, 'As the hot weather is now commencing,
+and the season for fashion approaches, we cannot better serve the
+interests of our readers than by directing attention to the elegant
+"Symposium!"' 'Symposium!'--I give you my word of honor that's what they
+put it."
+
+"On my conscience! it might have been worse," chuckled out the Captain.
+
+"It was young Nelligan explained to me what it was," resumed Miss Busk;
+"and Scanlan said, 'I'd have an action against them for damages.'"
+
+"Keep out of law, my dear!--keep out of law!" sighed Mrs. Cronan. "See
+to what it has reduced me! I, that used to go out in my own coach, with
+two men in green and gold; that had my house in town, and my house in
+the country; that had gems and ornaments such as a queen might wear! And
+there's all that's left me now!" And she pointed to a brooch about the
+size of a cheese-plate, where a melancholy gentleman in uniform was
+represented, with a border of mock pearls around him. "The last pledge
+of affection!" sobbed she.
+
+"Of course you wouldn't pledge it, my dear," muttered the deaf old Mrs.
+Few; "and they'd give you next to nothing on it, besides."
+
+[Illustration: 324]
+
+"We 'll have law enough here soon, it seems," said Mrs. Cronan, angrily;
+for the laugh this blunder excited was by no means flattering and
+pleasant. "There 's Magennis's action first for trial at the Assizes."
+
+"That will be worth hearing," said Mrs. Clinch. "They 'll have the first
+lawyers from Dublin on each side."
+
+"Did you hear the trick they played off on Joe Nelligan about it?" asked
+the Captain. "It was cleverly done. Magennis found out, some way or
+other, that Joe wanted to be engaged against him; and so what does he
+do but gets a servant dressed up in the Martin livery, and sends him to
+Joe's house on the box of a coach, inside of which was a gentleman
+that begged a word with the Counsellor. 'You 're not engaged, I hope,
+Counsellor Nelligan,' says he, 'in Magennis against Martin?' 'No,' says
+Joe, for he caught a glimpse of the livery. 'You're quite free?' says
+the other. 'Quite free,' says he. 'That's all I want, then,' says he;
+'here's your brief, and here's your retainer;' and he put both down on
+the table, and when Joe looked down he saw he was booked for Magennis.
+You may imagine how he felt; but he never uttered a word, for there was
+no help for it."
+
+"And do you mean to tell me," cried Mrs. Clinch, "that the lawyers can't
+help themselves, but must just talk and rant and swear for any one that
+asks them first?"
+
+"It's exactly what I mean, ma'am," responded the Captain. "They 've no
+more choice in the matter than the hangman has as to who be 'll hang."
+
+"Then I'd as soon be a gauger!" exclaimed the lady, with a contemptuous
+glance at poor Clinch, who winced under the observation.
+
+"But I don't see what they wanted young Nelligan for," said Miss Busk;
+"what experience or knowledge has _he?_"
+
+"He's just the first man of the day," said Bodkin. "They tell me that
+whether it be to crook out a flaw in the enemy's case, to pick a hole in
+a statement, to crush a witness, or cajole the jury, old Repton himself
+is n't his equal."
+
+"I suppose, from the airs he gives himself, he must be something
+wonderful," said Mrs. Cronan.
+
+"Well, now, I differ from you there, ma'am," replied Bodkin. "I think
+Joe is just what he always was. He was cold, silent, and distant as a
+boy, and he 's the same as a man. Look at him when he comes down here at
+the Assizes, down to the town where his father is selling glue and hides
+and tenpenny-nails, and he 's just as easy and unconstrained as if the
+old man was Lord of Cro' Martin Castle."
+
+"That's the height of impertinence," broke in Miss Busk; "it's only
+real blood has any right to rise above the depreciating accidents of
+condition. I know it by myself."
+
+"Well, I wonder what he 'll make of this case, anyhow," said feodkin, to
+escape a controversy he had no fancy for. "They tell me that no action
+can lie on it. It's not abduction--"
+
+"For shame, Captain; you forget there are ladies here," said Mrs.
+Clinch.
+
+"Indeed I don't," sighed he, with a half-comic melancholy in his look.
+
+"I'll tell you how they do it, sir," chimed in Father Maher. "Whenever
+there 's anything in law that never was foreseen or provided for,
+against which there is neither act nor statute, they 've one grand and
+unfailing resource,--they charge it as a conspiracy. I 've a brother an
+attorney, and he tells me that there is n't a man, woman, or child in
+the kingdom but could be indicted for doing something by a conspiracy."
+
+"It's a great comfort to know that," said Bodkin, gravely.
+
+"And what can they do to her if she's found guilty?" asked Mrs. Cronan.
+
+"Make her smart for the damages, ma'am; leave her something less to
+expend on perversion and interference with the people," said the priest.
+"The parish isn't the same since she began visiting this one and reading
+to that. Instead of respect and confidence in their spiritual guides,
+the people are running after a young girl with a head full of wild
+schemes and contrivances. We all know by this time how these things end,
+and the best receipt to make a Protestant begins, 'First starve your
+Papist.'"
+
+"I rise to order," called out Bodkin. "We agreed we'd have no polemics
+nor party discussions."
+
+"Why am I appealed to, then, for explanations that involve them?"
+cried the priest, angrily. "I'm supported, too, in my observations by a
+witness none will dispute,--that Scotchman, Henderson--"
+
+"By the way, isn't his daughter come home to him?" asked Bodkin, eager
+for a diversion.
+
+"Indeed she is, sir; and a pretty story there is about it, too. Miss
+Busk knows it all," said Mrs. Cronan.
+
+"I have it in confidence, ma'am, from Jemima Davis,--Lady Dorothea's
+second maid; but I don't think it a fit subject for public
+conversation."
+
+"And ain't we in committee here?" chimed in Bodkin; "have we any secrets
+from each other?" The racy laugh of the old fellow, as he threw a
+knowing glance around the table, rather disconcerted the company. "Let's
+hear about Henderson's daughter."
+
+"The story is soon told, sir. Lady Dorothea detected her endeavoring to
+draw young Martin into a private marriage. The artful creature, by
+some means or other, had obtained such an insight into the young man's
+difficulties that she actually terrorized over his weak mind.
+She discovered, too, it is suspected, something rather more than
+indiscretions on his part."
+
+A long low whistle from the priest seemed to impart a kind of gratified
+surprise at this announcement.
+
+"He had got into a habit of signing his name, they say; and whether he
+signed it to something he had no right to, or signed another name by
+mistake--"
+
+"Oh, for shame," broke in Bodkin; "that wouldn't be one bit like a
+Martin."
+
+"Perhaps you are acquainted with all the circumstances better than
+myself, sir?" said Miss Busk, bristling up with anger. "Maybe you 've
+heard how the Henderson girl was turned away out of the French duke's
+family,--how she was found in correspondence with the leaders of the mob
+in Paris? Maybe, sir, you are aware that she has some mysterious hold
+over her father, and he dares not gainsay one word she says?"
+
+"I don't know one word of it; and if it wasn't thought rude, I'd say I
+don't believe it, either," said Bodkin, stoutly.
+
+"I believe the worst that could be said of her," said Mrs. Clinch.
+
+"Well, well, make her as bad as you like; but how does that prove
+anything against young Martin? and if you can find nothing heavier to
+say of him than that he wanted to marry a very handsome girl--"
+
+"A low creature!" broke in Miss Busk.
+
+"The lowest of the low!" chimed in Mrs. Cronan.
+
+"An impudent, upsetting minx!" added Mrs. Clinch. "Nothing would serve
+her but a post-chaise the morning she arrived by the mail for Dublin;
+and, signs on it, when she got home she had n't money to pay for it."
+
+"It was n't that she left her place empty-handed, then," said Miss Busk.
+"Jemima tells me that she managed the whole house,--paid for everything;
+and we all know what comes of that."
+
+Miss Busk, in delivering this sentiment, was seated with her back to
+the door, towards which suddenly every eye was now turned in mingled
+astonishment and confusion; she moved round to see the cause, and there
+beheld the very object of her commentary standing close behind her
+chair. Closely wrapped in a large cloak, the hood of which she wore
+over her head, her tall figure looked taller and more imposing in its
+motionless attitude.
+
+"I have to ask pardon for this intrusion, ladies," said she, calmly;
+"but you will forgive me when I tell the reason of it. I have just
+received very sad tidings, which ought to be conveyed to Miss Martin;
+she is at the islands, and I have no means of following her, unless Mr.
+Clinch will kindly lend me the revenue boat--"
+
+"And accompany you, I hope," broke in Mrs. Clinch, with a sneer.
+
+Kate did not notice the taunting remark, but went on, "You will be
+grieved to hear that Mr. Martin is no more."
+
+"Martin dead!" muttered the Captain.
+
+"Dead! When did he die?" "Where did it happen?" "How?" "Of what
+malady?" "Are his remains coming home?" were asked in quick succession
+by several voices.
+
+"This letter will tell you all that I know myself," said she, laying it
+on the table. "May I venture to hope Mr. Clinch will so far oblige me?
+The fishermen say the sea is too rough for their craft."
+
+"It's not exactly on the King's service, I opine, ma'am," broke in Mrs.
+Clinch; "but of course he is too gallant to oppose your wishes."
+
+"Faith! if you wanted any one with you, and would accept of myself,"
+broke in Bodkin, "I'm ready this minute; not that exactly salt water is
+my element."
+
+"The young lady is accustomed to travel alone, or she is much belied,"
+said Miss Busk, with a sneer.
+
+"I suppose you'd better let her have the boat, Clinch," said his wife,
+in a whisper. "There's no knowing what might come of it if you refused."
+
+"I 'll go down and muster the crew for you, Miss Henderson," said
+Clinch, not sorry to escape, although the exchange was from a warm cabin
+to the beating rain without.
+
+"Poor Martin!" sighed Bodkin; "he was the first of the family for many a
+long year that did n't breathe his last under his own roof. I 'm sure it
+weighed heavily on him."
+
+"I trust his son will follow his example, nevertheless," said the
+priest. "I don't want to see one of the name amongst us."
+
+"You might have worse, Father Maher," said Bodkin, angrily.
+
+And now a lively discussion ensued as to the merits of him they
+had lost, for the most part with more of charity than many of their
+dissertations; from this they branched off into speculations about the
+future. Would the "present man" reside at home? would her Ladyship come
+back? what would be Mary's position? how would Scanlan fare? what of
+Henderson, too? In fact, casualties of every kind were debated,
+and difficulties started, that they might be as readily reconciled.
+Meanwhile Kate was hastening down to the shore, followed, rather than
+escorted, by little Clinch, who even in the darkness felt that the
+conjugal eye was upon him.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXI. THE BRANNOCK ISLANDS
+
+A little to the northwest of the island of Innishmore are scattered a
+number of small islets, some scarcely more than barren rocks, called
+the Brannocks. One of these alone was inhabited, and that by a single
+family. No isolation could be more complete than that of these poor
+people, who thus dwelt amid the wide waste of waters, never seeing the
+face of a stranger, and only at long intervals visiting the mainland.
+Indeed the only intercourse they could be said to maintain with their
+fellow-men was when by chance they fell in with some homeward-bound ship
+at sea, and sold the little produce of their nets; for they lived by
+fishing, and had no other subsistence.
+
+The largest of these islands was called "Brannock-buoy," or the Yellow
+Brannock, from the flower of a kind of crocus which grew profusely over
+it. It was a wild, desolate spot, scarcely rising above the waves around
+it, save in one quarter, where a massive column of rock rose to the
+height of several hundred feet, and formed the only shelter against the
+swooping wind, which came without break or hindrance from the far-away
+shores of Labrador. At the foot of this strong barrier--so small and
+insignificant as to escape notice from the sea--stood the little cabin
+of Owen Joyce. Built in a circular form, the chimney in the middle, the
+rude structure resembled some wigwam of the prairies rather than the
+home of civilized beings.
+
+Certain low partitions within subdivided the space into different
+chambers, making the centre the common apartment of the family, where
+they cooked and ate and chatted; for, with all their poverty and
+privation, theirs was a life not devoid of its own happiness, nor did
+they believe that their lot was one to repine at.
+
+Seasons of unprofitable labor, years of more or less pressure, they had
+indeed experienced, but actual want had never visited them; sickness,
+too, was almost as rare. Owen Joyce was, at the time we speak of,
+upwards of eighty; and although his hair was white as snow, his cheek
+was ruddy, his white teeth were perfect, and his eye--like that of
+Moses--"was not dim." Surrounded by his children and grandchildren, the
+old man lived happy and contented, his daily teaching being to impress
+upon them the blessings they derived from a life so sheltered from all
+the accidents of fortune; to have, as he called the island, "the little
+craft all their own."
+
+The traits of race and family, the limited range of their intercourse
+with the world, served to make them all wonderfully alike, not only in
+feature but expression; so that even the youngest child had something of
+the calm, steadfast look which characterized the old man. The jet-black
+hair and eyes and the swarthy skin seemed to indicate a Spanish origin,
+and gave them a type perfectly distinctive and peculiar.
+
+In the midst of them moved one who, though dressed in the light-blue
+woollen kirtle, the favorite costume of the islands, bore in her fresh
+bright features the traces of a different blood; her deep blue eye, soft
+and almost sleepy, her full, well-curved lips, were strong contrasts to
+the traits around her. The most passing glance would have detected
+that she was not "one of them," nor had she been long an inmate of this
+dwelling.
+
+It chanced that some short time before, one of Joyce's sons, in boarding
+an outward-bound American ship, had heard of a young countrywoman
+who, having taken her passage for New York, no sooner found herself at
+sea--parted, as she deemed it, forever from home and country--than she
+gave way to the most violent grief; so poignant, indeed, was her sorrow
+that the captain compassionately offered to relinquish her passage-money
+if Joyce would take charge of her, and re-land her on the shores of
+Ireland. The offer was accepted, and the same evening saw her safely
+deposited on the rocky island of Brannock. Partly in gratitude to her
+deliverer, partly in the indulgence of a secret wish, she asked leave
+to remain with them and be their servant; the compact was agreed to, and
+thus was she there.
+
+Theirs was not a life to engender the suspicions and distrusts which
+are current in the busier walks of men. None asked her a reason for her
+self-banishment, none inquired whether the cause of her exile was
+crime or misfortune. They had grown to feel attachment to her for the
+qualities of her gentle, quiet nature, a mild submissive temper, and a
+disposition to oblige, that forgot nothing save herself. Her habits had
+taught her resources and ways which their isolated existence had denied
+them, and she made herself useful by various arts, which, simple as they
+were, seemed marvellous to the apprehension of her hosts; and thus, day
+by day, gaining on their love and esteem, they came at length to regard
+her with an affection mingled with a sort of homage.
+
+Poor Joan Landy--for we have not to explain that it was she--was
+happy,--happier than ever she had been before. The one great sorrow of
+her life was, it is true, treasured in her heart; her lost home,
+her blighted hope, her severed affection--for she actually loved
+Magennis--were griefs over which she wept many an hour in secret;
+but there was a sense of duty, a conscious feeling of rectitude,
+that supported her in her sacrifice, and as she thought of her old
+grandfather's death-bed, she could say to her heart, "I have been true
+to my word with him."
+
+The unbroken quiet, the unchanging character of the life she led,--its
+very duties following a routine that nothing ever disturbed,--gave her
+ample time for thought; and thought, though tinged with melancholy, has
+its own store of consolation; and if poor Joan sorrowed, she sorrowed
+like one who rather deplored the past than desired to re-live it! As
+time wore on, a dreamy indistinctness seemed to spread itself over the
+memory of her former life: it appeared little other than a mind-drawn
+picture. Nothing actual or tangible remained to convince her of its
+reality. It was only at rare intervals, and in the very clearest
+weather, the outline of the mountains of the mainland could be seen; and
+when she did behold them, they brought only some vague recollection to
+her; and so, too, the memories of her once home came through the haze of
+distance, dim and indistinct.
+
+It was at the close of a day in June that the Joyces sat in front of
+the little cabin, repairing their nets, and getting their tackle in
+readiness for the sea. For some time previous the weather had been
+broken and unfavorable. Strong west winds and heavy seas--far from
+infrequent in these regions, even in midsummer--had rendered fishing
+impracticable; but now the aspect of a new moon, rising full an hour
+before sunset, gave promise of better, and old Joyce had got the launch
+drawn up on shore to refit, and sails were spread out upon the rocks to
+dry, and coils of rope, and anchors, and loose spars littered the little
+space before the door. The scene was a busy and not an unpicturesque
+one. There was every age, from the oldest to very infancy, all active,
+all employed. Some were calking the seams of the boat, others overhauled
+sails and cordage; some were preparing the nets, attaching cork floats
+or sinkers; and two chubby urchins, mere infants, laughing, fed the
+fire that blazed beneath a large pitch-pot, the light blue smoke rising
+calmly into the air, and telling those far away that the lone rock
+was not without inhabitants. To all seeming, these signs of life and
+habitation bad attracted notice; for a small boat which had quitted
+Innishmore for the mainland some time before, now altered her course,
+and was seen slowly bearing up towards the Brannocks. Though the sea was
+calm and waveless, the wind was only sufficient to waft her along at the
+slowest rate; a twinkling flash of the sea at intervals showed, however,
+that her crew were rowing, and at length the measured beat of the oars
+could be distinctly heard.
+
+Many were the speculations of those who watched her course. They knew
+she was not a fishing-craft; her light spars and white sails were
+sufficient to refute that opinion. Neither was she one of the
+revenue-boats. What could she be, then, since no large ship was in sight
+to which she could have belonged? It is only to those who have at some
+one period or other of life sojourned in some lone spot of earth, away
+from human intercourse, that the anxiety of these poor people could be
+intelligible. If, good reader,--for to you we now appeal,--it has not
+been your lot to have once on a time lived remote from the world and
+its ways, you cannot imagine how intensely interesting can become the
+commonest of those incidents which mark ordinary existence. They assume,
+indeed, very different proportions from the real, and come charged with
+innumerable imaginings about that wondrous life, far, far away, where
+there are thoughts and passions and deeds and events which never enter
+into the dreamland of exile! It was a little after sunset that the boat
+glided into the small creek which formed the only harbor of the island;
+and the moment after, a young girl sprang on the shore, and hastened
+towards them.
+
+[Illustration: 334]
+
+Before the Joyces had recovered from their first surprise, they saw Joan
+burst from the spot, and, rushing down the slope, throw herself at the
+stranger's feet.
+
+"And have I found you at last, dear Joan?" cried a soft, low voice,
+while the speaker raised her tenderly from the ground, and took her hand
+kindly within both her own.
+
+"Oh, Miss Mary, to think you 'd come after me this far! over the say!"
+burst out Joan, sobbing through her joy; for joy it was that now lit
+up her features, and made her eyes sparkle even through the fresh tears
+that filled them.
+
+"They told me you had sailed from Galway," resumed Mary, "and I wrote
+to the ship-agent and found it was correct: your name was in the list of
+passengers, and the date of the day you sailed; but, I know not how it
+was, Joan, I still clung to the notion that you had contrived this plan
+to escape being discovered, and that you were concealed somewhere along
+the coast or in the islands. I believe I used to dream of this at first,
+but at last I thought of it all day long."
+
+"Thought of _me_ all day long?" broke in Joan, sobbing.
+
+"And why not, poor child? Was I not the cause of your leaving your
+home? Was it not my persuasion that induced you to leave the roof that
+sheltered you? I have often wondered whether I had right and reason on
+my side. I know at the time I believed I had such. At all events, but
+for me you had never quitted that home; but see, Joan, how what we are
+led to do with an honest purpose, if it fail to effect what we had in
+view, often leads to better and happier ends than we ever dreamed of.
+I only thought of conveying to you the last message of your poor
+grandfather. I little imagined how so simple an act could influence
+all your future fortune in life; and such it has done. Mr. Magennis,
+suspecting or discovering what share I had in your flight, has begun a
+law proceeding against me, and to give him a rightful claim for redress,
+has declared you to be--all that you wish, dear Joan--his lawful, wedded
+wife."
+
+It was some time before the poor girl could stifle the sobbing which
+burst from her very heart. She kissed Mary's hands over and over with
+rapture, and cried out at length, in broken, faltering accents, "Did
+n't they say well that called you a saint from heaven? Didn't they tell
+truth that said, God gave you as a blessing to us?"
+
+"My poor Joan, you are grateful to me for what I have no share in. I am
+nothing but the bearer of good tidings. But tell me, how have you fared
+since we parted? Let me hear all that has happened to you."
+
+Joan told her simple story in a few words, never deviating from the
+narrative, save to speak her heartfelt gratitude to the poor people who
+had sheltered and befriended her.
+
+"There they are!" cried she, pointing to the group, who, with a delicacy
+of sentiment that might have graced the most refined class, sat
+apart, never venturing by a look to obtrude upon the confidence of the
+others,--"there they are; and if the world was like them, life would n't
+have many crosses!"
+
+Mary rose, and drew nigh the old man, who stood up respectfully to
+receive her.
+
+"He does n't know much English, Miss Mary," whispered Joan in her ear.
+
+"Nor am I well skilled in Irish," said Mary, smiling; "but I 'll do my
+best to thank him."
+
+However imperfectly she spoke the native tongue, the words seemed to
+act like a charm on those who heard them; and as, young and old, they
+gathered around her, their eager looks and delighted faces beamed with a
+triumphant joy. They had learned from the boatmen that it was the young
+princess--as in the language of the people she was called--was before
+them, and their pride and happiness knew no bounds.
+
+Oh, if courtiers could feel one tithe of the personal devotion to the
+sovereign that did these poor peasants to her they regarded as their
+chief, what an atmosphere of chivalry would breathe within the palace
+of royalty! There was nothing they would not have done or dared at her
+bidding; and as she crossed their threshold, and sat down beside their
+hearth, the tears of joy that rose to every eye showed that this was an
+event to be treasured till memory could retain no more!
+
+If Mary did not speak the native dialect fluently, there was a grace and
+a charm about the turn of the expressions she used that never failed to
+delight those who heard her. That imaginative thread that runs through
+the woof of Irish nature in every rank and condition of life--more
+conspicuous, probably, in the very humblest--imparted an intense
+pleasure to hearing and listening to her; and she, on her side, roused
+and stimulated by the adventurous character of the incident, the strange
+wild spot, the simple people, their isolation and their innocence, spoke
+with a warmth and an enthusiasm that were perfectly captivating.
+
+She had seen much of the peasantry,--known them in the most unfrequented
+tracts, remote from all their fellow-men,--in far-away glens, by dreary
+mountains, where no footpaths led; but anything so purely simple and
+unsophisticated as these poor people she had never met with. The sons
+had been--and that rarely, too--on the mainland, but the children and
+their mothers had never left the Brannocks; they had never beheld a
+tree, nor even a flower, save the wild crocus on their native rock. With
+what eager delight, then, did they hear Mary describe the gardens of the
+castle,--pictures that glowed with all the gorgeous colors of a fairy
+tale. "You shall all come and see me, some of these days. I'll send you
+a messenger, to say the time," said Mary; "and I'll promise that what
+you 'll witness will be far above my description of it!"
+
+It was a sad moment when Mary arose to say good-bye. Joan, too, was to
+accompany her, and the grief at parting with her was extreme. Again and
+again the children clung round her, entreating her not to leave them;
+and she herself half faltered in her resolution. That lonely rock, that
+rude cabin, had been her refuge in the darkest hour of her life, and she
+felt the superstitious terror of her class at now deserting them.
+
+"Come, come, dear Joan, remember that you have a home now that you
+can rightfully return to," whispered Mary. "It is not in shame, but in
+honor, that you go back to it."
+
+It was already dark ere they left the Brannocks: a long, heavy swell,
+too, the signs of a storm, coming from the westward, made the boatmen
+eager to hasten their departure. As yet, however, the air was calm and
+still, but it was with that oppressive stillness that forebodes change.
+They hoisted their sail, but soon saw that they must, for a while at
+least, trust to their oars. The unbroken stillness, save by the measured
+stroke of the rowers, the dense dark atmosphere, and the reaction, after
+a day of toil and an event of a most moving kind, so overcame Mary that,
+leaning on Joan's shoulder, she fell off fast asleep. For a while Joan,
+proud of the burden she supported, devoted all her care to watch
+and protect her from the night air; but at last weariness stole over
+herself, and she dropped off to slumber.
+
+Meanwhile the sea was rising; heavy waves struck the boat, and washed
+over her in sheets of spray, although no wind was stirring.
+
+"We 'll have rain, or a gale of wind before long," said one of the men.
+
+"There 's some heavy drops falling now," muttered another.
+
+"Throw that sail over Miss Mary, for it will soon come down heavily."
+
+A loud clap of thunder burst forth, and as suddenly, like a torrent, the
+rain poured down, hissing over the dark sea, and filling the air with a
+dull, discordant noise. Still they slept on, nor heard nor felt aught of
+that gathering storm.
+
+"There now, sure enough, it 's coming," cried a boatman, as the sail
+shook tremulously; and two great waves, in quick succession, broke over
+the bow.
+
+"We'll have to run for Innishmore," said another, "and lucky if we get
+there before it comes on worse."
+
+"You ought to wake her up, Loony, and ask her what we are to do."
+
+"I 'll make straight for the harbor of Kilkieran," replied the helmsman.
+"The wind is with us, and she's a good sea-boat. Take in the jib,
+Maurice, and we'll shorten all sail on her, and--"
+
+The rest of his speech was drowned in the uproar of a tremendous sea,
+which struck the boat on her quarter and nearly overset her. Not another
+word was now uttered, as, with the instinct of their calling, they
+set about to prepare for the coming conflict. The mainsail was quickly
+lowered and reefed, the oars and loose spars secured, and then, seating
+themselves in the bottom of the boat, they waited in silence. By this
+time the rain had passed over, and a strong wind swept over the sea.
+
+"She's going fast through the water, anyway!" said one of the men. But
+though the speech was meant to cheer, none felt or acknowledged the
+encouragement.
+
+"I 'd rather than own Cro' Martin Castle Miss Mary was safe at home!"
+said Loony, as he drew the rough sleeve of his coat across his eyes,
+"for it's thicker it's getting over yonder!"
+
+"It would be a black day that anything happened her!" muttered another.
+
+"Musha! we've wives and childer," said a third, "but she's worth a
+thousand of us!"
+
+And thus, in broken whispers, they spoke; not a thought save of her, not
+a care save for her safety. They prayed, too, fervently, and her name
+was in all their supplications.
+
+"She's singing to herself in her sleep," whispered Loony. And the rough
+sailors hushed to hear her.
+
+Louder and louder, however, grew the storm, sheets of spray and drift
+falling over the boat in showers, and all her timbers quivering as she
+labored in the stormy sea. A sailor whispered something in Loony's ear,
+and he grumbled out in reply,--"Why would I wake her up?"
+
+"But I _am_ awake, Loony," said Mary, in a low, calm voice, "and I see
+all our danger; but I see, too, that you are meeting it like brave men,
+and, better still, like good ones."
+
+"The men was thinking we ought to bear up for Innish-more, Miss Mary,"
+said Loony, as though ashamed of offering on his own part such counsel.
+
+"You'll do what you think best and safest for us all, Loony."
+
+"But you were always the captain, miss, when you were aboord!" replied
+he, with an effort to smile.
+
+"And so I should be now, Loony, but that my heart is too full to be as
+calm and resolute as I ought to be. This poor thing had not been here
+now, but for _me_." And she wrapped her shawl around Joan as she spoke.
+"Maybe it's anxiety, perhaps fatigue, but I have not my old courage
+to-night!"
+
+"Faix! it will never be fear that will distress you!" said he.
+
+"If you mean for myself and my own safety, Loony, you are right. It is
+not for me to repine at the hour that calls me away, but I cannot
+bear to think how you and others, with so many dear to you, should be
+perilled just to serve _me!_ And poor Joan, too, at the moment when life
+was about to brighten for her!" She held down her head for a minute or
+two, and then suddenly, as it were, rallying, she cried out, "The boat
+is laboring too much for'ard, Loony; set the jib on her!"
+
+"To be sure, if you ordher it, Miss Mary; but she has more sail now than
+she can carry."
+
+"Set the jib, Loony. I know the craft well; she 'll ride the waves all
+the lighter for it. If it were but daylight, I almost think I 'd enjoy
+this. We 've been out in as bad before."
+
+Loony shook his head as he went forward to bend the additional sail.
+
+"You see she won't bear it, miss," cried he, as the boat plunged
+fearfully into the trough of the sea.
+
+"Let us try," said she, calmly. "Stand by, ready to slack off, if I
+give the word." And so saying, she took the tiller from the sailor, and
+seated herself on the weather-gunwale. "There, see how she does it now!
+Ah, Loony, confess, I am the true pilot. I knew my nerve would come back
+when I took my old post here. I was always a coward in a carriage, if I
+was n't on the box and the reins in my hands; and the same at sea.
+Sit up to windward, men, and don't move; never mind baling, only keep
+quiet."
+
+"Miss Mary was right," muttered one of the men; "the head-sail is
+drawing her high out of the water!"
+
+"Is that dark mass before us cloud, or the land?" cried she.
+
+"It's the mountains, miss. There to the left, where you see the dip in
+the ridge, that's Kilkieran. I think I see the lights on shore now."
+
+"I see them now myself," cried Mary. "Oh, how the sight of land gives
+love of life! They called earth truly who named her mother!" said she to
+herself. "What was that which swept past us, Loony?"
+
+"A boat, miss; and they're hailing us now," cried he, peeping over the
+gunwale. "They've put her about, and are following our course. They came
+out after us."
+
+"It was gallantly done, on such a night as this! I was just thinking to
+myself that poor old Mat Landy would have been out, were he living. You
+must take the tiller now, Loony, for I don't understand the lights on
+shore."
+
+"Because they're shifting every minute, miss. It's torches they have,
+and they 're moving from place to place; but we 'll soon be safe now."
+
+"Let us not forget this night, men," said Mary, in a fervent voice. And
+then, burying her face within her hands, she spoke no more.
+
+It was already daybreak when they gained the little harbor, well-nigh
+exhausted, and worn out with fatigue and anxiety. As for Mary, wet
+through and cold, she could not rise from her seat without assistance,
+and almost fainted as she put her foot on shore. She turned one glance
+seaward to where the other boat was seen following them, and then,
+holding Joan's hand, she slowly toiled up the rocky ascent to the
+village. To the crowd of every age that surrounded her she could only
+give a faint, sickly smile of recognition, and they, in deep reverence,
+stood without speaking, gazing on her wan features and the dripping
+garments which clung to her.
+
+"No, not to the inn, Loony," said she, to a question from him. "The
+first cabin we meet will shelter us, and then--home!" There was
+something of intense sorrow in the thought that passed then through her
+mind, for her eyes suddenly filled up, and heavy tears rolled along her
+cheeks. "Have they got in yet?" said she, looking towards the sea.
+
+"Yes, miss; they're close alongside now. It's the revenue boat that went
+after us."
+
+"Wirra, wirra! but that's bad news for her now," muttered a boatman, in
+conversation with an old woman at his side.
+
+"What's the bad news, Patsey?" said Mary, overhearing him.
+
+But the man did not dare to answer; and though he looked around on every
+side, none would speak for him.
+
+"You used to be more frank with me," said Mary, calmly. "Tell me what
+has happened."
+
+Still not a word was uttered, a mournful silence brooded over the crowd,
+and each seemed to shun the task of breaking it.
+
+"You will make me fear worse than the reality, perhaps," said she,
+tremulously. "Is the calamity near home? No. Is it then my uncle?" A
+low faint cry burst from her, and she dropped down on her knees; but
+scarcely had she joined her hands to pray, than she fell back, fainting,
+to the ground.
+
+They carried her, still insensible as she was, into a fisherman's cabin,
+till they went in search of a conveyance to take her to the cottage.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXII. LETTER FROM MASSINGBRED.
+
+"Martin Arms, Oughterard.
+
+"In spite of all your reasonings, all your cautions, and all your
+warnings, here I am once more, Harry, denizen of the little dreary
+parlor whence I first looked out at Dan Nelligan's shop something
+more than a year since. What changes of fortune has that brief space
+accomplished I what changes has it effected even in my own nature! I
+feel this in nothing more than in my altered relations with others. If
+the first evidence of amendment in a man be shame and sorrow for the
+past, I may probably be on the right road now, since I heartily grieve
+over the worthless, purposeless life I have led hitherto.
+
+"I am well aware that you would not accept the reason I gave you for
+coming here. You said that, as to taking leave of my constituents, a
+letter was the ordinary and the sufficient course. You also hinted that
+our intercourse had not been of that close and friendly nature which
+requires a personal farewell, and then you suggested that other and less
+defensible motives had probably their share in this step. Well, you
+are right, perfectly right; I wanted to see the spot which has so far
+exerted an immense influence over me; I wanted--if you will have the
+confession--to see _her_ too,--to see her in the humble station she
+belongs to, in the lowly garb of the steward's daughter. I was curious
+to ascertain what change her bearing would undergo in the change of
+position; would she conform to the lowlier condition at once and
+without struggle, or would her haughty nature chafe and fret against the
+obstacles of a small and mean existence? If you were right in guessing
+this, you are equally wrong in the motive you ascribe to me. Not,
+indeed, that you palpably express, but only hint at it; still I cannot
+endure even the shadow of such a surmise without a flat and full denial.
+Perhaps, after all, I have mistaken your meaning,--would it were so! I
+do indeed wish that you should not ascribe to me motives so unworthy
+and so mean. A revenge for her refusal of me! a reprisal for the proud
+rejection of my hand and fortune! No, my dear Harry, I feel, as I write
+the words, that they never were yours. You say, however, that I am
+curious to know if I should think her as lovable and attractive in the
+humble dress and humble station that pertain to her, as when I saw her
+moving more than equal amongst the proudest and haughtiest of Europe.
+To have any doubt on this score would be to distrust her sincerity of
+character. She must be what I have ever seen her, or she is an actress.
+Difference of condition, different associates, different duties will
+exact different discipline, but she herself must be the same, or she is
+a falsehood,--a deception.
+
+"And then you add, it is perhaps as well that I should 'submit to the
+rude test of a disenchantment.' Well, I accept the challenge, and I am
+here.
+
+"These thoughts of self would obtrude in the very beginning of a letter
+I had destined for other objects. You ask me for a narrative of my
+journey and its accidents, and you shall have it. On my way over here
+in the packet, I made acquaintance with an elderly man, who seemed
+thoroughly acquainted with all the circumstances of the Martins and
+their misfortunes. From him I ascertained that all Scanlan had told me
+was perfectly correct. The reversion of the estate has been sold for a
+sum incredibly small in proportion to its value, and in great part
+the proceeds of gambling transactions. Martin is, therefore, utterly,
+irretrievably ruined. Merl has taken every step with all the security
+of the best advice, and in a few months, weeks perhaps, will be declared
+owner of Cro' Martin. Even in the 'fast times' we live in, such rapid
+ruin as this stands alone! You tell me that of your own college and mess
+associates not more than one in five or six have survived the wreck
+of fortune the first few years of extravagance accomplish, and
+that Manheim, Brussels, and Munich can show the white-seamed,
+mock-smartened-up gentilities which once were the glories of Bond
+Street and the Park; but for poor Martin, I suspect, even these last
+sanctuaries do not remain,--as I hear it, he is totally gone.
+
+"From the very inn where I am staying Merls agents are issuing notices
+of all kinds to the tenants and 'others' to desist and refrain from
+cutting timber, quarrying marbles, and what not, on certain unspeakable
+localities, with threats in case of non-compliance. Great placards cover
+the walls of the town, headed 'Caution to all Tenants on the Estate
+of Cro' Martin.' The excitement in the neighborhood is intense,
+overwhelming. Whatever differences of political opinion existed between
+the Martins and the people of the borough, whatever jealousies grew out
+of disparity of station, seemed suddenly merged in sympathy for this
+great misfortune. They are, of course, ignorant of the cause of this
+sudden calamity, and ask each other how, when, and where such a fortune
+because engulfed.
+
+"But to proceed regularly. On my reaching Dublin, after a hurried visit
+to my father, I drove off to Mr. Repton's house. You may remember his
+name as that of the old lawyer, some of whose bar stories amused you
+so highly. I found him in a spacious mansion of an old neglected
+street,--Henrietta Street,--once the great aristocratic quarter of
+Ancient Dublin, and even to this day showing traces of real splendor.
+The old man received me in a room of immense proportions, furnished as
+it was when Flood was the proprietor. He was at luncheon when I entered;
+and for company had the very same stranger with whom I made acquaintance
+in the packet.
+
+"Repton started as we recognized each other, but at a sign or a word,
+I'm not certain which, from the other, merely said, 'My friend was just
+speaking of his having met you, Mr. Massingbred.' This somewhat informal
+presentation over, I joined them, and we fell a chatting over the story
+of Cro' Martin.
+
+"They were both eager to hear something about Merl, his character,
+pursuits, and position; and you would have been amazed to see how
+surprised they were at my account of a man whose type we are all so
+familiar with.
+
+"You would scarcely credit the unfeigned astonishment manifested by
+these two shrewd and crafty men at the sketch I gave them of our Hebrew
+friend. One thing is quite clear,--it was not the habit, some forty or
+fifty years ago, to admit the Merls of the world to terms of intimacy,
+far less of friendship.
+
+"'As I said, Repton,' broke in the stranger, sternly, 'it all comes of
+that degenerate tone which has crept in of late, making society like a
+tavern, where he who can pay his bill cannot be denied entrance. Such
+fellows as this Merl had no footing in our day. The man who associated
+with such would have forfeited his own place in the world.'
+
+"'Very true,' said Repton, 'though we borrowed their money we never
+bowed to them.'
+
+"'And we did wisely, sir,' retorted the other. 'The corruption of their
+manners was fifty times worse than all their usury! The gallant Hussar
+Captain, as we see here, never scrupled about admitting to his closest
+intimacy a fellow not fit company for his valet. Can't you perceive that
+when a man will descend to such baseness to obtain money, there is no
+measuring the depth he will go to when pressed to pay it?'
+
+"'I am intimate with Martin,' said I, interrupting, 'and I can honestly
+assure you that it was rather to an easy, careless, uncalculating
+disposition he owes his misfortunes, than to anything like a spendthrift
+habit.'
+
+"'Mere hair-splitting this, sir,' replied he, almost rudely. 'He who
+spends what is not his own, I have but one name for. It matters little
+in my estimation whether he extorts the supply by a bill or a bullet.'
+
+"I own to you, Harry, I burned to retort to a speech the tone and manner
+of which were both more offensive than the words; but the stranger's
+age, his venerable appearance, and something like deep and recent sorrow
+about him, restrained me, and I caught, by a look from Repton, that he
+was grateful for my forbearance.
+
+"'Come, sir,' said he, addressing me, 'you say you know Captain Martin;
+now let me ask you one question: Is there any one trait or feature of
+his character to which, if his present misfortunes were to pass
+away, you could attach a hope of amendment? Has not this life of
+bill-renewing, these eternal straits for cash--with all the humiliations
+that accompany them,--made him a mere creature of schemes and plots,--a
+usurer in spirit, though a pauper in fact?'
+
+"'When I say, sir, that you are addressing this demand to one whom
+Captain Martin deems his friend, you will see the impropriety you have
+fallen into.'
+
+"'My young friend is right,' broke in Repton. 'The Court rules against
+the question; nor would it be evidence even if answered.'
+
+"I was angry at this interference of Repton's. I wanted to reply to this
+man myself; but still, as I looked at his sorrow-struck features, and
+saw what I fancied the marks of a proud suffering spirit, I was well
+satisfied at not having given way to temper; still more so did I feel as
+he turned towards me, and, with a manner of ineffable gentleness, said,
+'I entreat you to pardon me, sir, for an outburst of which I am already
+ashamed. A rude life and some bitter experiences have made me hard
+of heart and coarse in speech; still, it is only in moments of
+forgetfulness that I cease to remember what indulgence he owes to others
+who has such need of forgiveness himself.'
+
+"I grasped his hand at once, and felt that his pressed mine like a
+friend's.
+
+"'You spoke of going down to the West,' said he, after a brief pause.
+'I start for that country to-night; you would do me a great favor should
+you accompany me.'
+
+"I acceded at once, and he went on. 'Repton was to have been of the
+party, but business delays him a few days in town.'
+
+"'I 'll join you before the end of the week,' said Repton; 'by that time
+Mr. Massingbred will have expended all his borough blandishments and be
+free to give us his society.'
+
+"Though the old lawyer now tried, and tried cleverly, to lead us away
+to lighter, pleasanter themes, the attempt was a failure; each felt, I
+suspect, some oppressive weight on his spirits that indisposed him to
+less serious talk; and again we came back to the Martins, the stranger
+evidently seeking to learn all he could of the disposition and temper of
+the young man.
+
+"'It is as I thought,' said he, at last. 'It is the weak, sickly tone
+of the day has brought all this corruption upon us! Once upon a time
+the vices and follies of young men took their rise in their several
+natures,--this one gambled, the other drank, and so on,--the mass,
+however, was wonderfully sound and healthy; the present school, however,
+is to ape a uniformity, so that each may show himself in the livery of
+his fellows, thus imbibing wickedness he has no taste for, and none be
+less depraved and heartless than those around him. Let the women but
+follow the fashion, and there 's an end of us, as the great people we
+boasted to be!'
+
+"I give you, so well as I can trust my memory, his words, Harry, but I
+cannot give you a certain sardonic bitterness,--a tone of mingled scorn
+and sorrow, such as I never before witnessed. He gave me the impression
+of being one who, originally frank, generous, and trustful, had, by
+intercourse with the world and commerce with mankind, grown to suspect
+every one and disbelieve in honesty, and yet could not bring his heart
+to acknowledge what his head had determined. In this wise, at least, I
+read his character from the opportunities I had of conversing with him
+on our journey. It was easy to see that he was a gentleman,--taking the
+word in the widest of its acceptations,--but from things that dropped
+from him, I could gather that his life had been that of an adventurer.
+He had been in the sea and land services of many of those new states
+of Southern America, had even risen to political importance in some of
+them; had possessed mines and vast tracts of territory one day, and
+the next saw himself 'without a piastre.' He had conducted operations
+against the Indians, and made treaties with them, and latterly had lived
+as the elected chief of a tribe in the west of the Rocky Mountains. But
+he knew civilized as well as savage life, had visited Spain in the rank
+of an envoy, and was familiar with all the great society of Rome, and
+the intrigues of its prince-bishops. The only theme, however, on which
+he really warmed was sport. The prairies brought out all his enthusiasm,
+and then he spoke like one carried away by glorious recollections of
+a time when, as he said himself, 'heart and hand and eye never failed
+him.'
+
+"When he spoke of family ties or home affections, it was in a spirit of
+almost mockery, which puzzled me. His reasoning was that the attachments
+we form are only emanations of our own selfishness. We love, simply to
+be loved again. Whereas, were we single-hearted, we should be satisfied
+to know that those dear to us were well and happy, and only seek to
+serve them without demonstration or display.
+
+"Am I wearying you, Harry, by dwelling on the traits of a man who, for
+the brief space I have known him, has made the most profound impression
+upon me? Even where I dissent--as is often the case--from his views,
+I have to own to myself that were I _he_, I should think and reason
+precisely as he does. I fancied at first that, like many men who had
+quitted civilized life for the rude ways of the 'bush,' he would have
+contrasted the man of refinement unfavorably with the savage, but he was
+too keen and acute for such a sweeping fallacy; he saw the good and evil
+in both, and sensibly remarked how independent of all education were
+the really strong characteristics of human nature. 'There is not a great
+quality of our first men,' said he, 'that I have not found to exist
+among the wild tribes of the Far West, nor is there an excellence
+of savage nature I have not witnessed amidst the polished and the
+pampered.'
+
+"From what I can collect, he is only here passingly; some family matter
+has brought him over to this country; but he is already impatient to be
+back to his old haunts and associates, and his home beside the Orinoco.
+He has even asked me to come and visit him there; and from all I can see
+I should be as likely to attain distinction among the Chaymas as in
+the House of Commons, and should find the soft turf of the Savannahs as
+pleasant as the Opposition benches. In fact, Harry, I have half
+promised to accept his invitation; and if he renew it with anything like
+earnestness, I am resolved to go.
+
+"I am just setting out for the Hendersons', and while the horses are
+being harnessed I have re-read your letter. Of course I have 'counted
+the cost,'--I have weighed the question to a pennyweight! I could
+already write down the list of those who will not know me at all, those
+who will know me a little, and the still fewer who will know my wife!
+Can you not see, my dear friend, that where one drags the anchor so
+easily, the mooring-ground was never good? The society to which you
+belong by such slender attachments gives no wound by separation from it.
+
+"My anxiety now is on a very different score: it is that she will still
+refuse me. The hope I cling to is that she will see in my persistence a
+proof of sincerity. I would not, if I could, bring any family influence
+to my aid, and yet, short of this, there is nothing I would not do to
+insure success.
+
+"I wish I had never re-opened your letter; that vein of sarcastic
+coolness which runs through it will never turn me from my purpose. You
+seem to forget, besides, that you are talking to a man of the world,
+just as hackneyed, just as 'used up' as yourself. I should like to see
+you assume this indolent dalliance before La Henderson! Take my word for
+it, Harry, you 'd be safer with the impertinence amongst some of your
+duchesses in Pall Mall. You say that great beauty in a woman, like
+genius in a man, is a kind of brevet nobility, and yet you add that
+the envy of the world will never weary of putting the possessor 'on his
+title.' How gladly would I accept this challenge! Ay, Harry, I tell you,
+in all defiance, that your proudest could not vie with her!
+
+"If I wanted a proof of the vassalage of the social state we live in, I
+have it before me in the fact that a man like yourself, wellborn, young,
+rich, and high-hearted, should place the judgments and prejudices of
+half a dozen old tabbies of either sex above all the promptings of a
+noble ambition--all the sentiments of a generous devotion. Your
+starling cry of 'the Steward's daughter,' then, does not deter, it only
+determines the purpose
+
+"Of yours faithfully,
+
+"Jack Massingbred."
+
+
+"You 'll see by the papers that I have accepted the Chiltern Hundreds.
+This is the first step.--now for the second!"
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXIII. A DINNER AT "THE LODGE"
+
+While the "Morning Post" of a certain day, some twenty years ago,
+was chronicling the illustrious guests who partook of his Majesty's
+hospitalities at Windsor, the "Dublin Evening Mail," under the less
+pretentious heading of "Viceregal Court," gave a list of those who had
+dined with his Excellency at the Lodge.
+
+There was not anything very striking or very new in the announcement.
+Our _dramatis person�,_ in this wise, are limited; and after the
+accustomed names of the Lord Chancellor and Mrs. Dobbs, the Master of
+the Rolls and Mrs. Wiggins, Colonel Somebody of the 105th, Sir Felix
+and Miss Slasher, you invariably find the catalogue close with an
+un-der-secretary, a king-at-arms, and the inevitable Captain Lawrence
+Belcour, the aide-de-camp in waiting!--these latter recorded somewhat in
+the same spirit that the manager of a provincial theatre swells the roll
+of his company, by the names of the machinist, the scene-painter, and
+the leader of the band! We have no peculiar concern, however, with this
+fact, save that on the day in question our old friend Joseph Nelligan
+figured as a vice-regal guest. It was the first time he had been so
+honored, and, although not of a stamp to attach any great prize to the
+distinction, he was well aware that the recognition was intended as an
+honor; the more, when an aide-de-camp signified to him that his place at
+table was on one side of his Excellency.
+
+When this veracious history first displayed young Nelligan at a
+dinner-party, his manner was shy and constrained; his secluded,
+student-like habits had given him none of that hardihood so essential in
+society. If he knew little of passing topics, he knew less of the tone
+men used in discussing them; and now, although more conversant with
+the world and its ways, daily brought into contact with the business of
+life, his social manner remained pretty nearly the same cold, awkward,
+and diffident thing it had been at first. Enlist him in a great subject,
+or call upon him on a great occasion, and he could rise above it; place
+him in a position to escape notice, and you never heard more of him.
+
+The dinner company on this day contained nothing very formidable, either
+on the score of station or ability,--a few bar celebrities with their
+wives, an eccentric dean with a daughter, a garrison colonel or two,
+three country squires, and a doctor from Merrion Square. It was that
+interregnal period between the time when the castle parties included
+the first gentry of the land, and that later era when the priest and
+the agitator became the favored guests of vice-royalty. It is scarce
+necessary to say it was, as regards agreeability, inferior to either.
+There was not the courtly urbanity and polished pleasantry of a very
+accomplished class; nor was there the shrewd and coarse but racy
+intelligence of Mr. O'Connell's followers.
+
+The Marquis of Reckington had come over to Ireland to "inaugurate," as
+the newspapers called it, a new policy; that is, he was to give to the
+working of the relief bill an extension and a significance which few
+either of its supporters or opposers in Parliament ever contemplated.
+The inequality of the Romanist before the law he might have borne;
+social depreciation was a heavier evil, and one quite intolerable. Now,
+as the change to the new system required considerable tact and address,
+they intrusted the task to a most accomplished and well-bred gentleman;
+and were Ireland only to be won by dinner-parties, Lord Reckington must
+have been its victor.
+
+To very high rank and great personal advantages he united a manner of
+the most perfect kind. Dignified enough always to mark his station and
+his own consciousness of it, it was cordial without effort, frank
+and easy without display. If he could speak with all the weight of
+authority, he knew how to listen with actual deference; and there
+was that amount of change and "play" in his demeanor that made his
+companion, whoever for the moment he might be, believe that his views
+and arguments had made a deep impression on the Viceroy. To those
+unacquainted with such men, and the school to which they belong, there
+might have appeared something unreal, almost dramatic, in the elegant
+gracefulness of his bow, the gentle affability of his smile, the
+undeviating courtesy which he bestowed on all around him; but they were
+all of the man himself,--his very instincts,--his nature.
+
+It had apparently been amongst his Excellency's instructions from his
+government to seek out such rising men of the Roman Catholic party as
+might be elevated and promoted on the just claims of their individual
+merits,--men, in fact, whose conduct and bearing would be certain to
+justify their selection for high office. It could not be supposed that
+a party long proscribed, long estranged from all participation in power,
+could be rich in such qualifications. At the bar, the ablest men usually
+threw themselves into the career of politics, and of course by strong
+partisanship more or less prejudiced their claims to office. It was
+rare indeed to find one who, with the highest order of abilities, was
+satisfied to follow a profession whose best rewards were denied him.
+Such was Joseph Nelligan when he was first "called," and such he
+continued to the very hour we now see him. Great as had been his
+college successes, his triumphs at the bar overtopped them all. They who
+remembered his shy and reserved manner wondered whence he came by his
+dignity; they who knew his youth could not imagine how he came by his
+"law."
+
+Mr. M'Casky, the castle law-adviser, an old recruiting-serjeant of
+capacities, who had "tipped the shilling" to men of every party, had
+whispered his name to the Under-Secretary, who had again repeated it to
+the Viceroy. He was, as M'Casky said, "the man they wanted, with talent
+enough to confront the best of the opposite party, and wealthy enough to
+want nothing that can figure in a budget." Hence was he, then, there a
+favored guest, and seated on his Excellency's left hand.
+
+For the magic influence of that manner which we have mentioned as
+pertaining to the Viceroy, we ask for no better evidence than the sense
+of perfect ease which Joe Nelligan now enjoyed. The _suave_ dignity
+of the Marquis was blended with a something like personal regard, a
+mysterious intimation that seemed to say, "This is the sort of man I
+have long been looking for; how gratifying that I should have found him
+at last!" They concurred in so many points, too, not merely in opinions,
+but actually in the very expressions by which they characterized them;
+and when at last his Excellency, having occasion to quote something he
+had said, called him "Nelligan," the spell was complete.
+
+Oh dear! when we torture our brains to legislate for apothecaries,
+endeavoring in some way or other to restrict the sale of those subtle
+ingredients on every grain or drop of which a human life may hang,
+why do we never think of those far more subtle elements of which great
+people are the dispensers,--flatteries more soothing than chloroform,
+smiles more lulling than poppy-juice! Imagine poor Nelligan under a
+course of this treatment, dear reader; fancy the delicious poison as
+it insinuates itself through his veins, and if you have ever been so
+drugged yourself, picture to your mind all the enjoyment he experienced.
+
+By one of those adroit turns your social magician is master of, the
+Viceroy had drawn the conversation towards Nelligan's county and his
+native town.
+
+"I was to have paid a visit to poor Martin there," said he, "and I
+certainly should have looked in upon _you_."
+
+Nelligan's cheek was in a flame; pride and shame were both there,
+warring for the mastery.
+
+"Poor fellow!" said his Excellency, who saw the necessity of a
+diversion, "I fear that he has left that immense estate greatly
+embarrassed. Some one mentioned to me, the other day, that the heir will
+not succeed to even a fourth of the old property."
+
+"I have heard even worse, my Lord," said Nelligan. "There is a rumor
+that he is left without a shilling."
+
+"How very shocking! They are connections of my own!" said the Viceroy;
+as though what he said made the misery attain its climax.
+
+"I am aware, my Lord, that Lady Dorothea is related to your Excellency,
+and I am surprised you have not heard the stories I allude to."
+
+"But perhaps I am incorrect," said the Marquis. "It may be that I _have_
+heard them; so many things pass through one's ears every day. But here
+is Colonel Mas-singbred; he 's sure to know it. Massingbred, we want
+some news of the Martins--the Martins of--what is it called?"
+
+"Cro' Martin, my Lord," said Nelligan, reddening.
+
+"I hold the very latest news of that county in my hand, my Lord,"
+replied the Secretary. "It is an express from my son, who writes from
+Oughterard."
+
+Nelligan stood, scarcely breathing, with impatience to hear the tidings.
+
+Colonel Massingbred ran his eyes over the first page of the letter,
+murmuring to himself the words; then turning over, he said: "Yes, here
+it is,--'While I write this, the whole town is in a state of intense
+excitement; the magistrates have sent in for an increased force of
+police, and even soldiery, to repress some very serious disturbances on
+the Martin property. It would appear that Merl--the man who assumes
+to claim the property, as having purchased the reversion from young
+Martin--was set upon by a large mob, and pursued, himself and his
+friends, for several miles across the country. They escaped with their
+lives, but have arrived here in a lamentable plight. There is really no
+understanding these people. It was but the other day, and there was no
+surer road to their favor than to abuse and vilify these same Martins,
+and now they are quite ready to murder any one who aspires to take
+their place. If one was to credit the stories afloat, they have already
+wreaked a fatal vengeance on some fellows employed by Merl to serve
+notices on the tenantry; but I believe that the outrages have really
+gone no further than such maltreatment as Irishmen like to give, and are
+accustomed to take.'"
+
+Here his Excellency laughed heartily, and Joe Nelligan looked grave.
+
+Massingbred read on: "'Without being myself a witness to it, I never
+could have credited the almost feudal attachment of these people to
+an "Old House." The Radical party in the borough are, for the moment,
+proscribed, and dare not show themselves in the streets; and even
+Magennis, who so lately figured as an enemy to the Martins, passed
+through the town this morning with his wife, with a great banner flying
+over his jaunting-car, inscribed "The Martins for Ever!" This burst of
+sentiment on his part, I ought to mention, was owing to a most devoted
+piece of heroism performed by Miss Martin, who sought out the lost one
+and brought her safely back, through a night of such storm and hurricane
+as few ever remember. Such an act, amidst such a people, is sure of its
+reward. The peasantry would, to a man, lay down their lives for her; and
+coming critically, as the incident did, just when a new proprietor
+was about to enforce his claim, you can fancy the added bitterness
+it imparted to their spirit of resistance. I sincerely trust that the
+magistrates will not accede to the demand for an increased force. A
+terrible collision is sure to be the result, and I know enough of
+these people to be aware of what can be done by a little diplomacy,
+particularly when the right negotiator is employed. I mean, therefore,
+to go over and speak to Mr. Nelligan, who is the only man of brains
+amongst the magistrates here.'"
+
+"A relative, I presume," said his Excellency.
+
+"My father, my Lord," replied Joe, blushing.
+
+"Oh! here is the result of his interview," said Massing-bred, turning to
+the foot of the page. "'Nelligan quite agreed in the view I had taken,
+and said the people would assuredly disarm and perhaps destroy any force
+we could send against them. He is greatly puzzled what course to adopt;
+and when I suggested the propriety of invoking Miss Martin's aid, told
+me that this is out of the question, since she is on a sick-bed. While
+we were speaking, a Dublin physician passed through on his way to visit
+her. This really does add to the complication, for she is, perhaps, the
+only one who could exert a great influence over the excited populace. In
+any other country it might read strangely, that it was to a young lady
+men should have recourse in a moment of such peril; but this is like no
+other country, the people like no other people, the young lady herself,
+perhaps, like no other young lady!'"
+
+By a scarcely perceptible movement of his head, and a very slight change
+of voice, Colonel Massingbred intimated to the Viceroy that there was
+something for his private ear, and Lord Reckington stepped back to hear
+it. Nelligan, too deeply occupied in his own thoughts to remark the
+circumstance, stood in the same place, silent and motionless.
+
+"It is to this passage," whispered the Secretary, "I want to direct your
+Excellency's attention: 'All that I see here,' my son writes,--'all that
+I see here is a type of what is going on, at large, over the island. Old
+families uprooted, old ties severed; the people, with no other instinct
+than lawlessness, hesitating which side to take. Their old leaders, only
+bent upon the political, have forgotten the social struggle, and
+thus the masses are left without guidance or direction. It is my firm
+conviction that the Church of Rome will seize the happy moment to usurp
+an authority thus unclaimed, and the priest step in between the landlord
+and the demagogue; and it is equally my belief that you can only retard,
+not prevent, this consummation. If you should be of _my_ opinion, and
+be able to induce his Excellency to think with us, act promptly and
+decisively. Enlist the Roman Catholic laity in your cause before you
+be driven to the harder compact of having to deal with the clergy. And
+first of all, make--for fortunately you have the vacancy,--make young
+Nelligan your solicitor-general.'"
+
+The Viceroy gave a slight start, and smiled. He had not, as yet,
+accustomed his mind to such bold exercise of his patronage. He lived,
+however, to get over this sensation.
+
+"My son," resumed Massingbred, "argues this at some length. If you
+permit, I 'll leave the letter in your Excellency's hands. In fact, I
+read it very hurriedly, and came over here the moment I glanced my eyes
+over this passage."
+
+His Excellency took the letter, and turned to address a word to Joe
+Nelligan, but he had left the spot.
+
+"Belcour," said the Viceroy, "tell Mr. Nelligan I wish to speak to
+him. I shall be in the small drawing-room. I 'll talk with him alone.
+Massingbred, be ready to come when I shall send for you."
+
+The Viceroy sat alone by the fire, pondering over all he had heard.
+There was, indeed, that to ponder over, even in the brief, vague
+description of the writer. "The difficulties of Ireland," as it was the
+fashion of the day to call them, were not such as government commissions
+discover, or blue books describe; they lay deeper than the legislative
+lead-line ever reaches,--many a fathom down below statutes and Acts
+of Parliament. They were in the instincts, the natures, the blood of a
+people who had never acknowledged themselves a conquered nation. Perhaps
+his Excellency lost himself in speculations, mazy and confused enough to
+addle deeper heads. Perhaps he was puzzled to think how he could bring
+the Cabinet to see these things, or the importance that pertained to
+them; who knows? At all events, time glided on, and still he was alone.
+At length the aide-de-camp appeared, and with an air of some confusion,
+said,--"It would appear, my Lord, that Mr. Nelligan has gone away."
+
+"Why, he never said good-night; he did n't take leave of me!" said the
+Viceroy, smiling.
+
+The aide-de-camp slightly elevated his brows, as though to imply his
+sense of what it might not have become him to characterize in words.
+
+"Very strange, indeed!" repeated his Excellency; "is n't it, Belcour?"
+
+"Very strange, indeed, your Excellency," said the other, bowing.
+
+"There could have been no disrespect in it," said his Lordship,
+good-humoredly; "of _that_ I'm quite certain. Send Colonel Massingbred
+here."
+
+"He's gone off, Massingbred," said the Viceroy, as the other appeared.
+
+"So I have just learned, my Lord. I conclude he was not aware--that he
+was unacquainted with--"
+
+"Oh, of course, Massingbred," broke in the Viceroy, laughing, "the fault
+is all with my predecessors in office; they never invited these men
+as they ought to have done. Have you sounded M'Casky as to the
+appointment?"
+
+"Yes, my Lord; he thinks 'we might do worse.'"
+
+"A qualified approval, certainly. Perhaps he meant we might select
+himself!"
+
+"I rather opine, my Lord, that he regards Nelligan's promotion as likely
+to give offence to Mr. O'Connell, unless that he be himself consulted
+upon it."
+
+"Then comes the question, Who is it governs this country, Colonel
+Massingbred?" said the Marquis; and for the first time a flash of
+angry meaning darkened his cheeks. "If I be here,"--he stopped and
+hesitated,--"if you and I be here only to ratify appointments made by
+irresponsible individuals,--if we hold the reins of power only to
+be told where we 're to drive to,--I must own the office is not very
+dignified, nor am I patient enough to think it endurable."
+
+"M'Casky only suggested that it might be advisable to see O'Connell
+on the subject, not, as it were, to pass him over in conferring the
+appointment."
+
+"I cannot at all concur in this view, Massingbred," said the Marquis,
+proudly; "there could be no such humiliation in the world as a patronage
+administered in this wise. Write to Nelligan; write to him to-night. Say
+that his abrupt departure alone prevented my making to him personally
+the offer of the solicitorship; add that you have my directions to place
+the office in his hands, and express a strong wish, on your own part,
+that he may not decline it."
+
+Massingbred bowed in acquiescence, and after a pause his Excellency went
+on:--
+
+"There would be no objection to your adding something to the effect that
+my selection of him was prompted by motives in which party has no share;
+that his acknowledged eminence at the bar,--a character to which even
+political opponents bear honorable testimony,--in fact, Massingbred,"
+added he, impatiently, "if the appointment should come to be questioned
+in the House, let us have it on record that we made it solely on motives
+directed to the public service. You understand me?"
+
+"I think so, my Lord," said Massingbred, and withdrew.
+
+If it were not that other cares and other interests call us away,
+we would gladly linger a little longer to speculate on the Viceroy's
+thoughts as he reseated himself by the fire. His brow was overcast and
+his features clouded. Was it that he felt he had entered the lists, and
+thrown down the glove to a strong and resolute opponent? Had he before
+him a vista of the terrible conflict between expediency and honor that
+was soon to be his fate? Had he his doubts as to the support his own
+Cabinet would afford him? Was his pride the ruling sentiment of the
+moment, or did there enter into his calculations the subtle hope of all
+the eager expectancy this appointment would create, all the disposable
+venality it would lay at his discretion? Who can answer these questions?
+who solve these doubts? Is it not very possible that his mind wandered
+amidst them all? Is it not more than likely that they passed in review
+before him? for when he rejoined his company his manner was more absent,
+his courtesy less easy than usual.
+
+At length Mr. M'Casky came forward to say goodnight.
+
+"Colonel Massingbred has told you of those disturbances in the West, has
+he not?" asked the Viceroy.
+
+"Yes, my Lord," replied the other.
+
+"And what opinion--what advice did you give?"
+
+"To let matters alone, my Lord; to be always a little behind time,
+particularly in sending a force. 'Never despatch the police to quell
+a riot,' said John Toler, 'unless one of the factions be completely
+beaten, otherwise you 'll have them both on your back;' and I assure
+your Excellency, Ireland has been very successfully governed under that
+maxim for years past."
+
+"Thank you, M'Casky; thank you for the advice," said his Excellency,
+laughing, and wished him good-night.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXIV. AN HONORED GUEST
+
+It was a time of unusual stir and bustle at the Martin Arms; the house
+was crammed with company. Messengers--some mounted, others on foot--came
+and went at every moment; horses stood ready saddled and harnessed in
+the stables, in waiting for any emergency; in fact, there was a degree
+of movement and animation only second to that of a contested election.
+In the midst of this confusion a chaise with four smoking posters drew
+up at the door, and a sharp, clear voice called out,--"Morrissy, are my
+rooms ready?"
+
+"No, indeed, Mr. Repton," stammered out the abashed landlord; "the house
+is full; there's not a spot in it to put a child in."
+
+"You got my letter, I suppose?" said Repton, angrily.
+
+"I did, sir, but it was too late; the whole house was engaged by
+Mr. Scanlan, and the same evening the company arrived in two
+coaches-and-four."
+
+"And who is the precious company you speak of?"
+
+"Mr. Merl, sir," said the other, dropping his voice to a whisper, "the
+new owner of Cro' Martin; he's here, with two or three great lawyers and
+one or two of his friends. They came down to serve the notices and give
+warning--"
+
+"Well, what is to be done? where can I be accommodated?" broke in
+Repton, hastily. "Isn't Mr. Massing-bred in the house?"
+
+"No, sir, he had to move out, too; but, sure enough, he left a bit of a
+note for you in the bar." And he hastened off at once to fetch it.
+
+Repton broke open the seal impatiently, and read:--
+
+"My dear Mr. Repton,--I regret that you 'll find the inn full on your
+arrival; they turned me out yesterday to make room for Mr. Merl and his
+followers. Happily, Mr. Nelligan heard of my destitution, and offered me
+a quarter at his house. He also desires me to say that he will deem it
+a very great favor if you will accept the shelter of his roof, and in
+hopeful anticipation of your consenting, he will wait dinner for your
+arrival. From my own knowledge, I can safely assure you that the offer
+is made in a spirit of true hospitality, and I sincerely wish that you
+may accept it.
+
+"Yours very faithfully,
+
+"J. Massingbred."
+
+
+"Where does Mr. Nelligan live?" asked Repton, as he refolded the letter.
+
+"Just across the street, sir. There it is."
+
+"Set me down there, then," said Repton. And the next moment he was at
+Nelligan's door.
+
+"This is a very great honor, sir," said old Dan, as he appeared in a
+suit of decorous black. "It is, indeed, a proud day that gives me the
+pleasure of seeing you here."
+
+"My dear sir, if you had no other distinction than being the father of
+Joseph Nelligan, the honor and the pride lie all in the opposite scale.
+I am sincerely glad to be your guest, and to know you where every true
+Irishman is seen to the greatest advantage,--at the head of his own
+board."
+
+While Nelligan conducted his guest to his room, he mentioned that
+Massingbred had ridden over to Cro' Martin early in the morning, but
+would be certainly back for dinner.
+
+"And what 's the news of Miss Martin? Is she better?"
+
+"They say not, sir. The last accounts are far from favorable."
+
+"Sir Henry Laurie saw her, did n't he?"
+
+"Yes, sir; he passed all Sunday here, and only returned to town
+yesterday. He spoke doubtfully,--I might even say, gloomily. He said,
+however, that we cannot know anything for certain before Friday or,
+perhaps, Saturday."
+
+"It is fever, then?"
+
+"Yes, he told my wife, the worst character of typhus."
+
+"Brought on, as I've been told, by exposure to wet and cold on that
+night at sea. Is n't that the case?"
+
+"I believe so. Mrs. Nelligan went over the next morning to the cottage.
+She had heard of poor Mr. Martin's death, and thought she might be
+of some use to Miss Mary; but when she arrived, it was to find her in
+fever, talking wildly, and insisting that she must be up and away to
+Kyle-a-Noe to look after a poor sick family there."
+
+"Has Mrs. Nelligan seen her since that?"
+
+"She never left her,--never quitted her. She relieves Henderson's
+daughter in watching beside her bed; for the old housekeeper is quite
+too infirm to bear the fatigue."
+
+"What a sad change has come over this little spot, and in so brief
+a space too! It seems just like yesterday that I was a guest at Cro'
+Martin,--poor Martin himself so happy and light-hearted; his dear girl,
+as he called her, full of life and spirits. Your son was there the night
+I speak of. I remember it well, for the madcap girls would make a fool
+of me, and insisted on my singing them a song; and I shall not readily
+forget the shame my compliance inflicted on my learned brother's face."
+
+"Joe told me of it afterwards."
+
+"Ah, he told you, did he? He doubtless remarked with asperity on the
+little sense of my own dignity I possessed?"
+
+"On the contrary, sir, he said, 'Great as are Mr. Rep-ton's gifts, and
+brilliant as are his acquirements, I envy him more the happy buoyancy of
+his nature than all his other qualities.'"
+
+"He's a fine fellow, and it was a generous speech; not but I will be
+vain enough to say he was right,--ay, sir, perfectly right. Of all the
+blessings that pertain to temperament, there is not one to compare with
+the spirit that renews in an old man the racy enjoyment of youth, keeps
+his heart fresh and his mind hopeful. With these, age brings no terrors.
+I shall be seventy-five, sir, if I live to the second of next month, and
+I have not lived long enough to dull the enjoyment life affords me, nor
+diminish the pleasure my heart derives upon hearing of a noble action or
+a generous sentiment."
+
+Nelligan gazed at the speaker in mingled astonishment and admiration.
+Somehow, it was not altogether the man he had expected; but he was far
+from being disappointed at the difference. The Valentine Repton of his
+imagination was a crafty pleader, a subtle cross-examiner, an ingenious
+flatterer of juries; but he was not a man whose nature was assailable by
+anything "not found in the books."
+
+Now, though Nelligan was himself essentially a worldly man, he was
+touched by these traits of one whom he had regarded as a hardened old
+lawyer, distrustful and suspicious.
+
+"Ay, sir," said Repton, as, leaning on the other's arm, he entered the
+drawing-room, "a wiser man than either of us has left it on record, that
+after a long life and much experience of the world, he met far more of
+good and noble qualities in mankind than of their opposite. Take my word
+for it, whenever we are inclined to the contrary opinion, the fault lies
+with ourselves."
+
+While they sat awaiting Massingbred's return, a servant entered with a
+note, which Nelligan, having read, handed over to Repton. It was very
+brief, and ran thus:--
+
+"My dear Mr. Nelligan,--Forgive my not appearing at dinner, and make my
+excuses to Mr. Repton, if he be with you, for I have just fallen in
+with Magennis, who insists on carrying me off to Barnagheela. You can
+understand, I 'm sure, that there are reasons why I could not well
+decline this invitation. Meanwhile, till to-morrow, at breakfast,
+
+"I am yours,
+
+"Jack Massingbred."
+
+
+If there was a little constraint on Nelligan's part at finding himself
+alone to do the honors to his distinguished guest, the feeling soon wore
+away, and a frank, hearty confidence was soon established between these
+two men, who up to the present moment had been following very different
+roads in life. Apart from a lurking soreness, the remnants of long-past
+bitterness, Nelligan's political opinions were fair and moderate, and
+agreed with Repton's now to a great extent. His views as to the people,
+their habits and their natures, were also strikingly just and true. He
+was not over-hopeful, nor was he despondent; too acute an observer to
+refer their faults to any single source, he regarded their complex,
+intricate characters as the consequence of many causes, the issue of
+many struggles. There was about all he said the calm judgment of a man
+desirous of truth; and yet, when he came to speak of the higher classes,
+the great country gentry, he displayed prejudices and mistakes
+quite incredible in one of his discernment. The old grudge of social
+disqualification had eaten deep into his heart, and, as Repton saw, it
+would take at least two generations of men, well-to-do and successful,
+to eradicate the sentiment.
+
+Nelligan was quick enough to see that these opinions of his were not
+shared by his guest, and said, "I cannot expect, Mr. Repton, that you
+will join me in these views; you have seen these people always as an
+equal, if not their superior; they met _you_ with their best faces and
+sweetest flatteries. Not so with us. They draw a line, as though to say,
+go on: make your fortunes; purchase estates; educate your children;
+send them to the universities with our own; teach them our ways, our
+instincts, our manners, and yet, at the end of all, you shall remain
+exactly where you began. You shall never be 'of us.'"
+
+"I am happy to say that I disagree with you," said Repton; "I am a much
+older man than you, and I can draw, therefore, on a longer experience.
+Now the change that I myself have seen come over the tone and temper of
+the world since I was a boy is far more marvellous to me than all the
+new-fangled discoveries around us in steam and electricity. Why, sir,
+the man who now addresses you, born of an ancient stock, as good blood
+as any untitled gentleman of the land, was treated once as Jack Cade
+might be in a London drawing-room. The repute of liberal notions or
+politics at that day stamped you as a democrat and atheist If you sided
+with a popular measure, you were deemed capable of all the crimes of a
+'Danton.'
+
+"Do I not remember it!--Ay, as a student, young, ardent, and
+high-hearted, when I was summoned before the visitors of the university,
+and sternly asked by the dark-browed Lord Chancellor if I belonged to
+a society called the 'Friends of Ireland,' and on my acknowledging the
+fact, without inquiry, without examination, deprived of my scholarship,
+and sent back to my chambers, admonished to be more cautious, and
+menaced with expulsion. I had very little to live on in those days;
+my family had suffered great losses in fortune, and I disliked to be a
+burden to them. I took pupils, therefore, to assist me in my support.
+The Vice-Provost stepped in, however, and interdicted this. 'Young men,'
+he said, 'ran a greater chance of coming out of my hands followers of
+Paine than disciples of Newton.' I starved on till I was called to the
+bar. There fresh insults and mortifications met me. My name on a brief
+seemed a signal for a field-day against Jacobinism and infidelity. The
+very bench forgot its dignity in its zeal. I remember well one day,
+when, stung and maddened by these outrages, I so far forgot myself as
+to reply, and the Court of King's Bench was closed against me for
+twelve long years,--ay, till I came back to it as the first man in my
+profession. It was a trumpery cause,--I forget what; a suit about some
+petty bill of exchange. I disputed the evidence, and sought to show its
+invalidity. The Chief Justice stopped me, and said, 'The Court is aware
+of the point on which you rely; we have known evidence of this nature
+admitted in cases of trial for treason,--cases with which Mr. Repton, we
+know, is very familiar. I stopped; my blood boiled with indignation,
+my temples throbbed to bursting, to be thus singled out amongst my
+brethren--before the public--as a mark of scorn and reprobation. 'It is
+true, my Lord,' said I, with a slow, measured utterance, 'I am familiar
+with such cases. Who is there in this unhappy land that is not? I am
+aware, too, that if I stood in that dock arraigned on such a charge,
+your Lordship would rule that this evidence was admissible; you would
+charge against me, sentence, and hang me; but the present is an action
+for eleven pounds ten, and, therefore, I trust to your Lordship's lenity
+and mercy to reject it.'
+
+"That reply, sir, cost me twelve years of exile from the court wherein I
+uttered it. Those were times when the brow-beating judge could crush
+the bar; nor were the jury always safe in the sanctuary of the jury-box.
+Now, such abuses are no longer in existence; and if we have made no
+other stride in progress, even that is considerable."
+
+"In all that regards the law and its administration, I am sure you are
+correct, sir," said Nelligan, submissively.
+
+"At the period I speak of," resumed Repton, who now was only following
+out his own thoughts and reminiscences, "the judges were little else
+than prefects, administering the country through the channel of the
+penal code, and the jury a set of vulgar partisans, who wielded the
+power of a verdict with all the caprice of a faction; and as to their
+ignorance, why, sir, Crookshank, who afterwards sat on the bench, used
+to tell of a trial for murder at Kells, where the 'murdered man' was two
+hours under cross-examination on the table! Yes, but that is not all;
+the jury retired to deliberate, and came out at length with a verdict of
+'manslaughter,' as the prisoner was 'a bad fellow, and had once stolen a
+saddle from the foreman.' You talk of law and civilization; why, I tell
+you, sir, that the barbaric code of the red man is a higher agent
+of enlightenment than the boasted institutions of England, when thus
+perverted and degraded. No, no, Mr. Nelligan, it may be a fine theme
+for declamation, there may be grand descriptive capabilities about the
+Ireland of sixty or seventy years ago, but be assured, it was a social
+chaos of the worst kind; and as a maxim, sir, remember, that the
+inhabitants of a country are never so much to be pitied as when the
+aspect of their social condition is picturesque!"
+
+Repton fell into a musing fit when he had finished these observations,
+and Nelligan felt too much deference for his guest to disturb him,
+and they sat thus silent for some time, when the old lawyer suddenly
+arousing himself, said,--"What's all this I hear about disturbances, and
+attacks on the police, down here?"
+
+"There's nothing political in it," rejoined Nelligan. "It was resistance
+offered by the people to the service of certain notices on the part of
+this London Jew--Merl, I think they call him."
+
+"Yes, that's the name," quickly responded Repton. "You are aware of the
+circumstances under which he claims the estate?"
+
+"I had it from Brierley, who was told by Scanlan, that he purchased, or
+rather won at play, the entire and sole reversion."
+
+Repton nodded.
+
+"And such is a legal compact, I presume?" said Nelligan.
+
+"If the immoral obligation be well concealed in the negotiation, I don't
+see how it is to be broken. The law, sir," added he, solemnly, "never
+undertakes the charge of fools till a commission be taken out in their
+behalf! This young fellow's pleasure it was to squander his succession
+to a princely estate, and he chanced to meet with one who could
+appreciate his intentions."
+
+"Massingbred told me, however, that some arrangement, some compromise
+was in contemplation; that Merl, knowing that to enforce his claim would
+subject him to a trial and all its disclosures, had shown a disposition
+to treat; in fact, Massingbred has already had an interview with him,
+and but for Scanlan, who desires to push matters to extremity, the
+affair might possibly be accommodated."
+
+"The Jew possibly sees, too, that an Irish succession is not a bloodless
+triumph. He has been frightened, I have no doubt."
+
+"I believe so; they say he took to his bed the day he got back here, and
+has never quitted it since. The people hunted them for four miles across
+the country, and as Merl couldn't leap his horse over the walls, they
+were several times nearly caught by the delay in making gaps for him."
+
+"I'd have given fifty pounds to be in at it," broke out Repton.
+Then suddenly remembering that the aspiration did not sound as very
+dignified, he hemmed and corrected himself, saying, "It must, indeed,
+have been a strange spectacle!"
+
+"They started at Kyle's Wood, and ran them over the low grounds beside
+Kelly's Mills, and then doubling, brought them along the foot of
+Barnagheela Mountain, where, it seems, Magennis joined the chase; he was
+fast closing with them when his gun burst, and rather damaged his hand."
+
+"He fired, then?"
+
+[Illustration: 368]
+
+"Yes, he put a heavy charge of slugs into Merl's horse as he was getting
+through the mill-race, and the beast flung up and threw his rider into
+the stream. Scanlan dismounted and gathered him up, discharging his
+pistol at some country fellow who was rushing forward; they say the man
+has lost an eye. They got off, however, and, gaining the shelter of the
+Cro' Martin wood, they managed to escape at last, and reached this
+about six o'clock, their clothes in tatters, their horses lamed, and
+themselves lamentable objects of fatigue and exhaustion. Since that,
+no one but the doctor has seen Merl, and Scanlan only goes out with an
+escort of police."
+
+"All this sounds very like 'sixty years ago,'" said Repton, laughing.
+
+"I'm afraid it does, and I half dread what the English newspapers may
+say under the heading of 'Galway Barbarities.'"
+
+"By Jove! I must say I like it; that is," said Repton, hesitating and
+confused, "I can see some palliation for the people in such an outburst
+of generous but misdirected feeling. The old name has still its
+spell for their hearts; and even superstitions, sir, are better than
+incredulity!"
+
+"But of what avail is all this? The law must and will be vindicated. It
+may cost some lives, on the road, but Mr. Merl must reach his journey's
+end, at last."
+
+"He may deem the sport, as I have known some men do tiger-hunting, not
+worth the danger," said Repton. "You and I, Mr. Nelligan, acclimated, as
+I may say, to such incidents, would probably not decline the title to
+an estate, whose first step in possession should be enforced by the
+blunderbuss; but make the scene Africa, and say what extent of territory
+would you accept of, on the compact of enforcing your claim against
+the natives? Now, for all the purposes of argument, to this cockney's
+appreciation, these countrymen of ours are Africans."
+
+"I can well understand his terror," said Nelligan, thoughtfully. "I 'm
+sure the yell that followed him through the gap of Kyle-a-Noe will ring
+in his heart for many a day. It was there the pursuit was hottest. As
+they came out, a stranger, who had been here during the winter,--a Mr.
+Barry--"
+
+"What of _him?_ What did _he_ do?" broke in Repton, with great
+eagerness.
+
+"He stood upon an old wall, and hurrahed the people on, calling out,
+'Five gold guineas to the man who will hurl that fellow into the lake.'"
+
+"He said that?" cried Repton.
+
+"Yes, and waved his hat in encouragement to the mob! This was deposed in
+evidence before the bench; and Scanlan's affidavit went on to say, that
+when the temper of the people seemed to relent, and the ardor of
+their pursuit to relax, this man's presence invariably rallied all the
+energies of mischief, and excited the wildest passions of the populace."
+
+"Who or what is he supposed to be?" asked the lawyer.
+
+"Some say, a returned convict,--a banker that was transported thirty
+years ago for forgery; others, that he is Con O'Hara, that killed Major
+Stackpoole in the famous duel at Bunratty Castle. Magennis swears that
+he remembers the face well; at all events, there is a mystery about him,
+and when he came into the shop below stairs--"
+
+"Oh, then, you have seen him yourself?"
+
+"Yes; he came in on Monday last, and asked for some glazed gunpowder,
+and if we had bullets of a large mould to fit his pistols. They were
+curiosities in their way; they were made in America, and had a bore
+large as your thumb."
+
+"You had some conversation with him?"
+
+"A few words about the country and the crops. He said he thought we had
+good prospects for the wheat, and, if we should have a fine harvest,
+a good winter was like to follow. Meaning that, with enough to eat, we
+should have fewer outrages in the dark nights, and by that I knew he
+was one acquainted with the country. I said as much, and then he turned
+fiercely on me, and remarked, 'I never questioned you, sir, about your
+hides and tallow and ten-penny nails, for they were _your_ affairs;
+please, then, to pay the same deference to _me_ and _mine_.' And before
+I could reply he was gone."
+
+"It was a rude speech," said Repton, thoughtfully; "but many men are
+morose from circumstances whose natures are full of kindliness and
+gentleness."
+
+"It was precisely the impression this stranger made upon me. There was
+that in his manner which implied a hard lot in life,--no small share of
+the shadiest side of fortune; and even when his somewhat coarse rebuke
+was uttered, I was more disposed to be angry with myself for being the
+cause than with him who made it."
+
+"Where is he stopping just now?"
+
+"At Kilkieran, I have heard; but he has been repeatedly back and forward
+in the town here during the week, though for the last few days I have
+not seen him. Perhaps he has heard of Scanlan's intention to summons
+him for aiding and abetting an assault, and has kept out of the way in
+consequence."
+
+"_He_ keep out of the way!" cried Repton; "you never mistook a man more
+in your life!"
+
+"You are acquainted with him, then?" said Nelligan, in amazement.
+
+"That am I, sir. No one knows him better, and on my knowledge of the man
+it was that I apologized for his incivility to yourself. If I cannot
+say more, Mr. Nelligan, it is not because I have any mistrust in your
+confidence, but that my friend's secret is, in his own charge, and only
+to be revealed at his own pleasure."
+
+"I wish you would tell him that I never meant to play the spy upon
+him,--that my remark was a merely chance observation--"
+
+"I promise you to do so," broke in Repton. "I promise you still more,
+that before he leaves this you shall have an apology from his own lips
+for his accidental rudeness; nay, two men that would know how to respect
+each other should never part under even a passing misunderstanding. It
+is an old theory of mine, Mr. Nelligan, that good men's good opinions of
+us form the pleasantest store of our reminiscences, and I 'd willingly
+go a hundred miles to remove a misconception that might bring me back to
+the esteem of an honorable heart, though I never were to set eyes again
+on him who possessed it."
+
+"I like your theory well, sir," said Nelligan, cordially.
+
+"You 'll find the practice will reward you," said Repton.
+
+"I confess this stranger has inspired me with great curiosity."
+
+"I can well understand the feeling," said Repton, musing. "It is with
+men as with certain spots in landscape, there are chance glimpses which
+suggest to us the fair scenes that lie beyond our view! Poor fellow!
+poor fellow!" muttered he once or twice to himself; and then starting
+abruptly, said, "You have made me so cordially welcome here that I
+am going to profit by every privilege of a guest. I 'm going to say
+good-night, for I have much before me on the morrow."
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXV. HOW DIPLOMACY FAILED
+
+Repton was up at daybreak, and at his desk. Immense folios littered the
+table, and even the floor around him, and the old lawyer sat amidst a
+chaos that it was difficult to believe was only the growth of an hour or
+two. All the intentness of his occupation, however, did not prevent him
+hearing a well-known voice in the little stable-yard beneath his window,
+and opening the sash he called out, "Mas-singbred, is that you?"
+
+"Ah, Mr. Repton, are you stirring so early? I had not expected to see
+you for at least two hours to come. May I join you?"
+
+"By all means; at once," was the answer. And the next moment they were
+together. "Where's Barry? When did you see him last?" was Repton's first
+question.
+
+"For a moment, on Tuesday last; he came up here to learn if you had
+arrived, or when you might be expected. He seemed disappointed when I
+said not before the latter end of the week, and muttered something about
+being too late. He seemed flurried and excited. I heard afterwards
+that he had been somehow mixed up with that tumultuous assemblage that
+resisted the police, and I offered to go back with him to Kilkieran, but
+he stopped me short, saying, 'I am not at Kilkieran;' and so abruptly as
+to show that my proposal was not acceptable. He then sat down and wrote
+a short letter, which he desired me to give you on arriving; but to
+deliver it with my own hand, as, if any reply were necessary, I should
+be ready to carry it to him. This is the letter."
+
+Repton read it rapidly, and then, walking to the window, stood pondering
+over the contents.
+
+"You know this man Merl, don't you, Massingbred?" asked Repton.
+
+"Yes, thoroughly."
+
+"The object of this letter is to try one last chance for an arrangement.
+Barry suspects that the Jew's ambition for Irish proprietorship may have
+been somewhat dashed by the experience of the last few days; that he
+will be likely enough to weigh the advantages and disadvantages with a
+juster appreciation than if he had never come here, and, if such be the
+case, we are ready to meet with a fair and equitable offer. We'll repay
+him all that he advanced in cash to young Martin, and all that he won
+from him at play, if he surrender his reversionary claim. We'll ask no
+questions as to how this loan was made, or how that debt incurred. It
+shall be the briefest of all transactions,--a sum in simple addition,
+and a check for the total."
+
+"He'll refuse,--flatly refuse it," said Massingbred. "The very offer
+will restore any confidence the last few days may have shaken; he'll
+judge the matter like the shares of a stock that are quoted higher in
+the market."
+
+"You think so?"
+
+"I'm sure of it. I'm ashamed to say, Mr. Repton, that my knowledge of
+the Herman Merl class may be greater than yours. It is the one solitary
+point in the realm of information wherein I am probably your superior."
+
+"There are others, and of a very different order, in which I would
+own you the master," said Repton. "But to our case. Suppose,--a mere
+supposition, if you like,--but suppose that it could be demonstrated to
+Mr. Merl that his claim will be not only resisted, but defeated; that
+the right on which he relies is valueless,--the deed not worth the
+stamps it bears; that this offer is made to avoid a publicity and
+exposure far more injurious to him than to those who now shrink from it.
+What think you then?"
+
+"Simply that he'd not believe it! He'd say, and many others would say,
+'If the right lay so incontestably with these others, they 'd not give
+some twenty thousand pounds to compromise what they could enforce for
+the mere cost of a trial.'"
+
+"Mr. Massingbred, too, would perhaps take the same view of the
+transaction," said Repton, half tartly.
+
+"Not if Mr. Repton assured me that he backed the opposite opinion," said
+Jack, politely.
+
+"I thank you heartily for that speech," said the old man, as he grasped
+the other's hand cordially; "you deserve, and shall have my fullest
+confidence."
+
+"May I ask," said Jack, "if this offer to buy off Merl be made in the
+interest of the Martins, for otherwise I really see no great object, so
+far as they are concerned, in the change of mastery?"
+
+"You'll have to take _my_ word for that," said Repton, "or rather, to
+take the part I assume in this transaction as the evidence of it; and
+now, as I see that you are satisfied, will you accept of the duty of
+this negotiation? Will you see and speak with Merl? Urge upon him all
+the arguments your own ingenuity will furnish, and when you come, if
+you should be so driven, to the coercive category, and that you want
+the siege artillery, then send for _me_. Depend upon it, it will be no
+_brutum fulmen_ that I 'll bring up; nor will I, as Pelham said, fire
+with 'government powder.' My cannon shall be inscribed, like those of
+the old volunteers, independence or--"
+
+At any other moment Jack might have smiled at the haughty air and
+martial stride of the old man, as, stimulated by his words, he paced the
+room; but there was a sincerity and a resolution about him that offered
+no scope for ridicule. His very features wore a look of intrepidity that
+bespoke the courage that animated him.
+
+"Now, Massingbred," said he, laying his hand on the young man's arm, "it
+is only because I am not free to tell another man's secret that I do
+not at once place you fully in possession of all I myself know of this
+transaction; but rely on it, you shall be informed on every point, and
+immediately after the issue of this negotiation with Merl, whatever be
+the result, you shall stand on the same footing with myself."
+
+"You cannot suppose that I exact this confidence?" began Jack.
+
+"I only know it is your due, sir," said Repton. "Go now,--it is not too
+early; see this man, and let the meeting be of the briefest, for if I
+were to tell you my own mind, I'd say I'd rather he should reject our
+offer."
+
+"You are, I own, a little incomprehensible this morning," said
+Massingbred, "but I am determined to yield you a blind obedience; and so
+I'm off."
+
+"I 'll wait breakfast for you," said Repton, as he reseated himself to
+his work.
+
+Repton requested Mr. Nelligan's permission to have his breakfast
+served in his own room, and sat for a long time impatiently awaiting
+Massingbred's return. He was at one time aroused by a noise below
+stairs, but it was not the announcement of him he looked for; and he
+walked anxiously to and fro in his chamber, each moment adding to the
+uneasiness that he felt.
+
+"Who was it that arrived half an hour ago?" asked he of the servant.
+
+"Mr. Joe, sir, the counsellor, has just come from Dublin, and is at
+breakfast with the master."
+
+"Ah! he 's come, is he? So much the better," muttered Repton, "we may
+want his calm, clear head to assist us here; not that we shall have to
+fear a contest,--there is no enemy in the field,--and if there were,
+Val Repton is ready to meet him!" And the old man crossed his arms, and
+stood erect in all the consciousness of his undiminished vigor. "Here
+he comes at last,--I know his step on the stair." And he flung open the
+door for Massingbred.
+
+"I read failure in your flushed cheek, Massingbred; failure and anger
+both, eh?"
+
+Massingbred tried to smile. If there was any quality on which he
+especially prided himself, it was the bland semblance of equanimity he
+could assume in circumstances of difficulty and irritation. It was
+his boast to be able to hide his most intense emotions at moments
+of passion, and there was a period in which, indeed, he wielded this
+acquirement. Of later times, however, he had grown more natural
+and impulsive; he had not yet lost the sense of pain this yielding
+occasioned, and it was with evident irritation that he found Repton had
+read his thoughts.
+
+"You perceive, then, that I am unsuccessful?" said he, with a faint
+smile. "So much the better if my face betrays me; it will save a world
+of explanation!"
+
+"Make your report, sir, and I'll make the tea," said Repton, as he
+proceeded to that office.
+
+"The fellow was in bed,--he refused to see me, and it was only by some
+insistence that I succeeded in gaining admittance. He has had leeches
+to his temples. He was bruised, it seems, when he fell, but far more
+frightened than hurt. He looks the very picture of terror, and lies
+with a perfect armory of pistols beside his bed. Scanlan was there,
+and thought to remain during our interview; but I insisted on his
+withdrawing, and he went. The amiable attorney, somehow, has a kind of
+respect for me that is rather amusing. As for Merl, he broke out into a
+vulgar tirade of passion, abused the country and the people, cursed the
+hour he came amongst them, and said, if he only knew the nature of the
+property before he made his investment, he 'd rather have purchased
+Guatemala bonds, or Santa F� securities.
+
+"'Then I have come fortunately,' said I, 'for I bring you an offer to
+reimburse all your outlay, and to rid you of a charge so little to your
+inclination.'
+
+"'Oh! you do, do you?' said he, with one of his cunningest leers.
+'You may not be able, perhaps, to effect that bargain, though. It's one
+thing to pay down a smart sum of money and wait your time for recovering
+it, and it's another to surrender your compact when the hour of
+acquisition has arrived. I bought this reversion--at least, I paid the
+first instalment of the price--four years ago, when the late man's life
+was worth twenty years' purchase. Well, he 's gone now, and do you think
+that I 'm going to give up my claim for what it cost me?'
+
+"I gently insinuated that the investigation of the claim might lead to
+unpleasant revelations. There were various incidents of the play-table,
+feasible and successful enough after a supper with champagne, and in the
+short hours before day, which came off with an ill-grace on the table of
+a court of justice, with three barons of the exchequer to witness them.
+That I myself might prove an awkward evidence, if unhappily cited to
+appear; that of my own knowledge I could mention three young fellows of
+good fortune who had been drained to their last shilling in his company.
+In fact, we were both remarkably candid with each other, and while _I_
+reminded _him_ of some dark passages at _�cart�, he_ brought to _my_
+memory certain protested bills and dishonored notes that 'non jucundum
+esset meminisse.' I must say, for both of us, we did the thing well, and
+in good breeding; we told and listened to our several shortcomings with
+a temper that might have graced a better cause, and I defy the world to
+produce two men who could have exchanged the epithets of swindler and
+scamp with more thorough calm and good manners. Unhappily, however, high
+as one rises in his own esteem by such contests, he scarcely makes the
+same ascent in that of his neighbor, and so we came, in our overflowing
+frankness, to admit to each other more of our respective opinions than
+amounts to flattery. I believe, and, indeed, I hope, I should have
+maintained my temper to the end, had not the fellow pretty broadly
+insinuated that some motive of personal advantage had prompted my
+interference, and actually pushed his insolence so far as to insinuate
+that 'I should make a better thing' by adhering to his fortunes."
+
+Repton started at these words, and Massingbred resumed: "True, upon my
+honor; I exaggerate nothing. It was a gross outrage, and very difficult
+to put up with; so I just expressed my sincere regret that instead of
+being in bed he was not up and stirring, inasmuch as I should have tried
+what change of air might have done for him, by pitching him out of the
+window. He tugged violently at the bell-rope, as though I were about to
+execute my menace, and so I left him. My diplomacy has, therefore, been
+a sad failure. I only hope that I may not have increased the difficulty
+of the case by my treatment of it."
+
+"You never thought of _me_ at all, then?" asked Repton.
+
+"Never, till I was once more in the street; then I remembered something
+of what you said about coercive means, but of what avail a mere menace?
+This fellow is not new to such transactions,--he has gone through all
+the phases of 'bulleydom.' Besides, there is a dash of Shylock in every
+Jew that ever breathed. They will 'have their bond,' unless it can be
+distinctly proved to them that the thing is impossible."
+
+"Now then for our breaching battery," said Repton, rising and pacing
+the room. "This attempt at a compromise never had any favor in my eyes;
+Barry wished it, and I yielded. Now for a very different course. Can
+you find a saddle-horse here? Well, then, be ready to set out in half an
+hour, and search out Barry for me. He'll be found at Kilkieran, or the
+neighborhood; say we must meet at once; arrange time and place for the
+conference, and come back to me."
+
+Repton issued his directions with an air of command, and Massingbred
+prepared as implicitly to obey them.
+
+"Mr. Nelligan has lent me his own pad," said Massingbred, entering soon
+after, "and his son will accompany me, so that I am at your orders at
+once."
+
+"There are your despatches," said Repton, giving him a sealed packet.
+"Let me see you here as soon as may be."
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXVI. A GREAT DISCOVERY
+
+About an hour after Massingbred's departure for Kilkieran, Mr. Repton
+set out for Cro' Martin Castle. The inn had furnished him its best
+chaise and four of its primest horses; and had the old lawyer been
+disposed to enjoy the pleasure which a great moralist has rated so
+highly, of rapid motion through the air, he might have been gratified on
+that occasion. Unhappily, however, he was not so minded. Many and very
+serious cares pressed upon him. He was travelling a road, too, which he
+had so often journeyed in high spirits, fancying to himself the pleasant
+welcome before him, and even rehearsing to his own mind the stores of
+agreeability he was to display,--and now it was to a deserted mansion,
+lonely and desolate, he was turning! Death and ruin both had done their
+work on that ancient family, whose very name in the land seemed already
+hastening to oblivion!
+
+Few men could resist the influence of depression better than Repton. It
+was not alone that his temperament was still buoyant and energetic,
+but the habits of his profession had taught him the necessity of being
+prepared for emergencies, and he would have felt it a dereliction of
+duty were his sentiments to overmaster his power of action.
+
+Still, as he went along, the well-known features of the spot would
+recall memories of the past. There lay a dense wood, of which he
+remembered the very day, the very hour, poor Martin had commenced the
+planting. There was the little trout-stream, where, under pretence
+of fishing, he had lounged along the summer day, with Horace for his
+companion; that, the school-house Mary had sketched, and built out of
+her own pocket-money. And now the great massive gates slowly opened, and
+they were within the demesne,--all silent and noiseless. As they came in
+sight of the castle, Repton covered his face with his hands, and sat for
+some minutes thus. Then, as if mastering his emotion, he raised his head
+and folded his arms on his chest.
+
+"You are true to time, I perceive, Dr. Leslie," said he, as the chaise
+stopped at the door and the venerable clergyman came forward to greet
+him.
+
+"I got your note last night, sir, but I determined not to keep you
+waiting, for I perceive you say that time is precious now."
+
+"I thank you heartily," said Repton, as he shook the other's hand. "I am
+grateful to you also for being here to meet me, for I begin to feel my
+courage fail me as to crossing that threshold again!"
+
+"Age has its penalties as well as its blessings, sir," said Leslie,
+"and amongst these is to outlive those dear to us!" There was a painful
+significance to his own desolate condition that made these words doubly
+impressive.
+
+Repton made no reply, but pulled the bell strongly; and the loud, deep
+sounds rung out clearly through the silent house. After a brief interval
+a small window above the door was opened, and a man with a blunderbuss
+in his hand sternly demanded their business.
+
+"Oh, I ax pardon, sir," said he, as suddenly correcting himself. "I
+thought it was that man that 's come to take the place,--'the Jew,'
+they call him,--and Mr. Magennis said I was n't to let him in, or one
+belonging to him."
+
+"No, Barney, we are not his friends," said Dr. Leslie; "this is Mr.
+Repton."
+
+"Sure I know the Counsellor well, sir," said Barney. "I 'll be down in a
+minute and open the door."
+
+"I must go to work at once," said Repton, in a low and somewhat broken
+voice, "or this place will be too much for me. Every step I go is
+calling up old times and old scenes. I had thought my heart was
+of sterner stuff. Isn't this the way to the library? No, not that
+way,--that was poor Martin's own breakfast-room!" He spoke hurriedly,
+like one who wished to suppress emotion by very activity of thought.
+
+
+While the man who conducted them opened the window-shutters and the
+windows, Repton and his companion sat down without speaking. At last he
+withdrew, and Repton, rising, said,--"Some of the happiest hours of my
+life were passed in this same room. I used to come up here after the
+fatigues of circuit, and, throwing myself into one of those easy-chairs,
+dream away for a day or two, gazing out on that bold mountain yonder,
+above the trees, and wondering how those fellows who never relaxed, in
+this wise, could sustain the wear and tear of life; for that junketing
+to Harrow-gate, that rattling, noisy steamboating up the Rhine, that
+Cockney heroism of Swiss travel, is my aversion. The calm forenoon
+for thought, the pleasant dinner-table for genial enjoyment
+afterwards,--these are true recreations. And what evenings we have had
+here! But I must not dwell on these." And now he threw upon the table a
+mass of papers and letters, amongst which he sought out one, from which
+he took a small key. "Dr. Leslie," said he, "you might have been assured
+that I have not called upon you to meet me to-day without a sufficient
+reason. I know that, from certain causes, of which I am not well
+informed, you were not on terms of much intimacy with my poor friend
+here. This is not a time to think of these things; _you_, I am well
+assured, will never remember them."
+
+Leslie made a motion of assent; and the other went on, his voice
+gradually gaining in strength and fulness, and his whole manner by
+degrees assuming the characteristic of the lawyer.
+
+"To the few questions to which I will ask your answers, now, I have to
+request all your attention. They are of great importance; they may, very
+probably, be re-asked of you under more solemn circumstances; and I have
+to bespeak, not alone all your accuracy for the replies, but that you
+may be able, if asked, to state the manner and even the words in which
+I now address you.--You have been the incumbent of this parish for a
+length of time,--what number of years?"
+
+"Sixty-three. I was appointed to the vicarage on my ordination, and
+never held any other charge."
+
+"You knew the late Darcy Martin, father of the last proprietor of this
+estate?"
+
+"Intimately."
+
+"You baptized his two children, born at the same birth. State what you
+remember of the circumstance."
+
+"I was sent for to the castle to give a private baptism to the two
+infants, and requested that I would bring the vestry-book along with
+me for the registration. I did so. The children were accordingly
+christened, and their births duly registered and witnessed."
+
+"Can you remember the names by which they were called?"
+
+"Not from the incident in question, though I know the names from
+subsequent knowledge of them, as they grew up to manhood."
+
+"What means, if any, were adopted at the time to distinguish the
+priority of birth?"
+
+"The eldest was first baptized, and his birth specially entered in
+the vestry-book as such; all the witnesses who signed the entry
+corroborating the fact by special mention of it under their signature.
+We also heard that the child wore a gold bracelet on one arm; but I did
+not remark it."
+
+"You have this vestry-book in your keeping?"
+
+"No; Mr. Martin retained it, with some object of more formal
+registration. I repeatedly asked for it, but never could obtain it. At
+length some coolness grew up between us, and I could not, or did not
+wish to press my demand; and at last it lapsed entirely from my memory,
+so that from that day I never saw it."
+
+"You could, however, recognize it, and be able to verify your
+signature?"
+
+"Certainly."
+
+"Was there, so far as you could see, any marked distinction made between
+the children while yet young?"
+
+"I can remember that at the age of three or four the eldest boy wore a
+piece of red or blue ribbon on his sleeve; but any other mark I never
+observed. They were treated, so far as I could perceive, precisely
+alike; and their resemblance to each other was then so striking, it
+would have been a matter of great nicety to distinguish them. Even
+at school, I am told, mistakes constantly occurred, and one boy once
+received the punishment incurred by the other."
+
+"As they grew up, you came to recognize the eldest by his name?"
+
+"Yes. Old Mr. Darcy Martin used to take the elder boy more about with
+him. He was then a child of ten or eleven years old. He was particular
+in calling attention to him, saying, 'This fellow is to be my heir;
+he 'll be the Martin of Cro' Martin yet'"
+
+"And what name did the boy bear?"
+
+"Godfrey,--Godfrey Martin. The second boy's name was Barry."
+
+"You are sure of this?"
+
+"Quite sure. I have dined a number of times at the castle, when Godfrey
+was called in after dinner, and the other boy was generally in disgrace;
+and I could remark that his father spoke of him in a tone of irritation
+and bitterness, which he did not employ towards the other."
+
+"Mr. Martin died before his sons came of age?"
+
+"Yes; they were only nineteen at his death."
+
+"He made a will, I believe, to which you were a witness?"
+
+"I was; but somehow the will was lost or mislaid, and it was only by
+a letter to the Honorable Colonel Forbes, of Lisvally, that Martin's
+intentions about appointing him guardian to his elder boy were
+ascertained. I myself was named guardian to the second son, an office
+of which he soon relieved me by going abroad, and never returned for a
+number of years."
+
+"Godfrey Martin then succeeded to the estate in due course?"
+
+"Yes, and we were very intimate for a time, till after his marriage,
+when estrangement grew up between us, and at last we ceased to visit at
+all."
+
+"Were the brothers supposed to be on good terms with each other?"
+
+"I have heard two opposite versions on that subject. My own impression
+was that Lady Dorothea disliked Barry Martin, who had made a marriage
+that was considered beneath him; and then his brother was, from easiness
+of disposition, gradually weaned of his old affection for him. Many
+thought Barry, with all his faults, the better-hearted of the two."
+
+"Can you tell what ultimately became of this Barry Martin?"
+
+"I only know, from common report, that after the death of his wife,
+having given his infant child, a girl, in charge to his brother, he
+engaged in the service of some of the Southern American Republics,
+and is supposed yet to be living there,--some say in great affluence;
+others, that he is utterly ruined by a failure in a mining speculation.
+The last time I ever heard Godfrey speak of him was in terms of sincere
+affection, adding the words, 'Poor Barry will befriend every one but
+himself.'"
+
+"So that he never returned?"
+
+"I believe not; at least I never heard of it."
+
+"I have written down these questions and your answers to them," said
+Repton; "will you read them over, and if you find them correct, append
+your signature. I am expecting Mr. Nelligan here, and I 'll go and see
+if there be any sign of his arrival."
+
+Repton just reached the door as Mr. Nelligan drove up to it.
+
+"All goes on well and promptly to-day," said the old lawyer. "I have got
+through a good deal of business already, and I expect to do as much more
+ere evening sets in. I have asked you to be present, as a magistrate,
+while I examine the contents of a certain closet in this house. I am led
+to believe that very important documents are deposited there, and it is
+in your presence, and that of Mr. Leslie, I purpose to make the inquiry.
+Before I do so, however, I will entreat your attention to a number of
+questions, and the answers to them, which will be read out to you. You
+will then be in a better position to judge of any discovery which the
+present investigation may reveal. All this sounds enigmatically enough,
+Mr. Nelligan; but you will extend your patience to me for a short while,
+and I hope to repay it."
+
+Nelligan bowed in silence, and followed him into the house.
+
+"There," said Mr. Leslie, "I have written my name to that paper; it is,
+so far as I can see, perfectly correct."
+
+"Now, let me read it for Mr. Nelligan," said Repton; and, without
+further preface, recited aloud the contents of the document. "I
+conclude, sir," said he, as he finished, "that there is nothing in what
+you have just heard very new or very strange to your ears. You knew
+before that Darcy Martin had two sons; that they were twins; and that
+one of them, Godfrey, inherited the estate. You may also have heard
+something of the brother's history; more, perhaps, than is here alluded
+to."
+
+"I have always heard him spoken of as a wild, reckless fellow, and that
+it was a piece of special good fortune he was not born to the property,
+or he had squandered every shilling of it," said Nelligan.
+
+"Yes," said Leslie, "such was the character he bore."
+
+"That will do," said Repton, rising. "Now, gentlemen, I'm about to
+unlock this cabinet, and, if I be correctly informed, we shall find
+the vestry-book with the entries spoken of by Mr. Leslie, and the long
+missing will of Darcy Martin. Such, I repeat, are the objects I expect
+to discover; and it is in your presence I proceed to this examination."
+
+In some astonishment at his words, the others followed him to the corner
+of the room, where, half concealed in the wainscot, a small door was
+at length discovered, unlocking which, Repton and the others entered a
+little chamber, lighted by a narrow, loopholed window. Not stopping to
+examine the shelves loaded with old documents and account-books, Repton
+walked straight to a small ebony cabinet, on a bracket, opening which,
+he drew forth a square vellum-bound book, with massive clasps.
+
+"The old vestry-book. I know it well," said Leslie.
+
+"Here are the documents in parchment," continued Repton, "and a sealed
+paper. What are the lines in the corner, Mr. Nelligan,--your eyes are
+better than mine?"
+
+"'Agreement between Godfrey and Barry Martin. To be opened by whichever
+shall survive the other.' The initials of each are underneath."
+
+"With this we have no concern," said Repton; "our business lies with
+these." And he pointed to the vestry-book. "Let us look for the entry
+you spoke of."
+
+"It is easily found," said Leslie. "It was the last ever made in that
+book. Here it is." And he read aloud: "'February 8th, 1772. Privately
+baptized, at Cro' Martin Castle, by me, Henry Leslie, Incumbent and
+Vicar of the said parish, Barry and Godfrey, sons of Darcy Martin and
+Eleanor his wife, both born on the fourth day of the aforesaid month;
+and, for the better discrimination of their priority in age, it is
+hereby added that Barry Martin is the elder, and Godfrey the second
+son, to which fact the following are attesting witnesses: Michael Keirn,
+house-steward; George Dorcas, butler; and Catharine Broon, maid of
+still-room.'"
+
+"Is that in your handwriting, sir?" asked Repton.
+
+"Yes, every word of it, except the superscription of the witnesses."
+
+"Why, then it would appear that the eldest son never enjoyed his
+rights," cried Nelligan. "Is that possible?"
+
+"It is the strict truth, sir," said Repton. "The whole history of the
+case adds one to the thousand instances of the miserable failures men
+make who seek by the indulgence of their own caprices to obstruct the
+decrees of Providence. Darcy Martin died in the belief that he had
+so succeeded; and here, now, after more than half a century, are the
+evidences which reverse his whole policy, and subvert all his plans."
+
+"But what could have been the object here?" asked Nelligan.
+
+"Simply his preference for the younger-born. No sooner had the children
+arrived at that time of life when dispositions display themselves, than
+he singled out Godfrey as his favorite. He distinguished him in every
+way, and as markedly showed that he felt little affection for the other.
+Whether this favoritism, so openly expressed, had its influence on the
+rest of the household, or that really they grew to believe that the
+boy thus selected for peculiar honor was the heir, it would be very
+difficult now to say. Each cause may have contributed its share; all we
+know is, that when sent to Dr. Harley's school, at Oughterard, Godfrey
+was called the elder, and distinguished as such by a bit of red ribbon
+in his button-hole. And thus they grew up to youth and manhood,--the
+one flattered, indulged, and caressed; the other equally depreciated and
+undervalued. Men are, in a great measure, what others make them.
+Godfrey became proud, indolent, and overbearing; Barry, reckless and a
+spendthrift Darcy Martin died, and Godfrey succeeded him as matter of
+course; while Barry, disposing of the small property bequeathed to him,
+set out to seek adventures in the Spanish Main.
+
+"I am not able to tell, had you even the patience to hear, of what
+befell him there; the very strangest, wildest incidents are recorded
+of his life, but they have no bearing on what we are now engaged in. He
+came back, however, with a wife, to find his brother also married. This
+is a period of his life of which little is known. The brothers did not
+live well together. There were serious differences between them; and
+Lady Dorothea's conduct towards her sister-in-law, needlessly cruel and
+offensive, as I have heard, imbittered the relations between them.
+At last Barry's wife died, it was said, of a broken heart, and Barry
+arrived at Cro' Martin to deposit his infant child with his brother, and
+take leave of home and country forever.
+
+"Some incident of more than usual importance, and with circumstances
+of no common pain, must now have occurred; for one night Barry left the
+castle, vowing nevermore to enter it. Godfrey followed, and tried to
+detain him. A scene ensued of entreaty on one side, and passionate
+vehemence on the other, which brought some of the servants to the spot.
+Godfrey imperiously ordered them away; they all obeyed but Catty. Catty
+Broon followed Barry, and never quitted him that night, which he spent
+walking up and down the long avenue of the demesne, watching and waiting
+for daybreak. We can only conjecture what, in the violence of her grief
+and indignation, this old attached follower of the house might have
+revealed. Barry had always been her favorite of the two boys; she knew
+his rights; she had never forgotten them. She could not tell by what
+subtleties of law they had been transferred to another, but she felt in
+her heart assured that in the sight of God they were sacred. How far,
+then, she revealed this to him, or only hinted it, we have no means of
+knowing. We can only say that, armed with a certain fact, Barry demanded
+the next day a formal meeting with his brother and his sister-in-law. Of
+what passed then and there, no record remains, save, possibly, in
+that sealed packet; for it bears the date of that eventful morning.
+I, however, am in a position to prove that Barry declared he would not
+disturb the possession Godfrey was then enjoying. 'Make that poor
+child,' said he, alluding to his little girl, your own daughter, and it
+matters little what becomes of _me_.' Godfrey has more than once
+adverted to this distressing scene to me. He told me how Lady Dorothea's
+passion was such that she alternately inveighed against himself for
+having betrayed her into a marriage beneath her, and abjectly implored
+Barry not to expose them to the shame and disgrace of the whole world by
+the assertion of his claim. From this she would burst out into fits of
+open defiance of him, daring him as an impostor; in fact, Martin said,
+'That morning has darkened my life forever; the shadow of it will be
+over me to the last hour I live!' And so it was! Self-reproach never
+left him: at one time, for his usurpation of what never was his; at
+another, for the neglect of poor Mary, who was suffered to grow up
+without any care of her education, or, indeed, of any attention whatever
+bestowed upon her.
+
+"I believe that, in spite of herself, Lady Dorothea visited the
+dislike she bore Barry on his daughter. It was a sense of hate from the
+consciousness of a wrong,--one of the bitterest sources of enmity!
+At all events, she showed her little affection,--no tenderness. Poor
+Godfrey did all that his weak and yielding nature would permit to repair
+this injustice; his consciousness that to that girl's father he owed
+position, fortune, station, everything, was ever rising up in his mind,
+and urging him to some generous effort in her behalf. But you knew him;
+you knew how a fatal indolence, a shrinking horror of whatever demanded
+action or energy overcame all his better nature, and made him as
+useless to all the exigencies of life as one whose heart was eaten up by
+selfishness.
+
+"The remainder of this sad story is told in very few words. Barry Martin,
+from whom for several years before no tidings had been received, came
+suddenly back to England. At first it had not been his intention to
+revisit Ireland. There was something of magnanimity in the resolve to
+stay away. He would not come back to impose upon his brother a renewal
+of that lease of gratitude he derived from him; he would rather spare
+him the inevitable conflict of feeling which the contrast of his own
+affluence with the humble condition of an exile would evoke. Besides, he
+was one of those men whom, whatever Nature may have disposed them to be,
+the world has so crushed and hardened that they live rather to indulge
+strong resentments and stern duties than to gratify warm affections.
+Something he had accidentally heard in a coffee-room--the chance mention
+by a traveller recently returned from Ireland--about a young lady of
+rank and fortune whom he had met hunting her own harriers alone in the
+wildest glen of Connemara, decided him to go over there, and, under the
+name of Mr. Barry, to visit the scenes of his youth.
+
+"I have but to tell you that it was in that dreary month of November,
+when plague and famine came together upon us, that he saw this country;
+the people dying on every side, the land until led, the very crops in
+some places uncut, terror and dismay on every side, and they who alone
+could have inspired confidence, or afforded aid, gone! Even Cro' Martin
+was deserted,--worse than deserted; for one was left to struggle alone
+against difficulties that the boldest and the bravest might have shrunk
+from. Had Barry Martin been like any other man, he would at once have
+placed himself at her side. It was a glorious occasion to have shown
+her that she was not the lone and friendless orphan, but the loved and
+cherished child of a doting father. But the hard, stern nature of the
+man had other and very different impulses; and though he tracked her
+from cottage to cottage, followed her in her lonely rambles, and watched
+her in her daily duties, no impulse of affection ever moved him to call
+her his daughter and bring her home to his heart. I know not whether it
+was to afford him these occasions of meeting her, or really in a spirit
+of benevolence, but he dispensed large sums in acts of charity among the
+people, and Mary herself recounted to me, with tears of delight in her
+eyes, the splendid generosity of this unknown stranger. I must hasten
+on. An accident, the mere circumstance of a note-book dropped by some
+strange chance in Barry's room, revealed to him the whole story of
+Captain Martin's spendthrift life; he saw that this young man had
+squandered away not only immense sums obtained by loans, but actually
+bartered his own reversionary right to the entire estate for money
+already lost at the gaming-table.
+
+"Barry at once set out for Dublin to call upon me and declare himself;
+but I was, unfortunately, absent at the assizes. He endeavored next to
+see Scanlan. Scanlan was in London; he followed him there. To Scanlan he
+represented himself as a money-lender, who, having come to the knowledge
+of Merl's dealings with young Martin, and the perilous condition of the
+property in consequence, offered his aid to re-purchase the reversion
+while it was yet time. To effect this bargain, Scanlan hastened over to
+Baden, accompanied by Barry, who, however, for secrecy' sake, remained
+at a town in the neighborhood. Scanlan, it seems, resolved to profit
+by an emergency so full of moment, and exacted from Lady Dorothea--for
+Martin was then too ill to be consulted--the most advantageous terms for
+himself. I need not mention one of the conditions,--a formal consent to
+his marriage with Miss Martin! and this, remember, when that young lady
+had not the slightest, vaguest suspicion that such an indignity could
+be offered her, far less concurred in by her nearest relatives! In the
+exuberance of his triumph, Scanlan showed the formal letter of assent
+from Lady Dorothea to Barry. It was from this latter I had the account,
+and I can give you no details, for all he said was, 'As I crushed it in
+my hand, I clenched my fist to fell him to the ground! but I refrained.
+I muttered a word or two, and got out into the street. I know very
+little more.'
+
+"That night he set out for Baden; but of his journey I know nothing. The
+only hint of it he ever dropped was when, giving me this key, he said,
+'I saw Godfrey.'
+
+"He is now back here once more; come to insist upon his long unasserted
+rights, and by a title so indisputable that it will leave no doubt of
+the result.
+
+"He is silent and uncommunicative; but he has said enough to show me
+that he is possessed of evidence of the compact between Godfrey and
+himself; nor is he the man to fail for lack of energy.
+
+"I have now come to the end of this strange history, in which it is not
+impossible you yourselves may be called to play a part, in confirmation
+of what you have seen this day."
+
+"Then this was the same Mr. Barry of whom we spoke last night?" said
+Nelligan, thoughtfully. "When about to describe him to you, I was really
+going to say, something like what Mr. Martin might look, if ten years
+older and white-haired."
+
+"There is a strong resemblance still!" said Repton, as he busied himself
+sealing up the vestry-book and the other documents. "These I mean to
+deposit in your keeping, Mr. Nelligan, till they be called for. I have
+sent over Massingbred to Barry to learn what his wishes may be as to the
+next legal steps; and now I am ready to return with you to Oughterard."
+
+Talking over this singular story, they reached the town, where
+Massingbred had just arrived a short time before.
+
+"I have had a long chase," said Jack, "and only found him late in the
+afternoon at the cottage."
+
+"You gave him the packet, then, and asked when we should meet?" asked
+Repton, hurriedly.
+
+"Yes; he was walking up and down before the door with the doctor, when
+we rode up. He scarcely noticed us; and taking your letter in his hand
+he placed it, without breaking the seal, on a seat in the porch. I then
+gave him your message, and he seemed so lost in thought that I fancied
+he had not attended to me. I was about to repeat it, when he interrupted
+me, saying, 'I have heard you, sir; there is no answer.' As I stood
+for a moment or two, uncertain what to do or say, I perceived that
+Joe Nelligan, who had been speaking to the doctor, had just staggered
+towards a bench, ill and fainting. 'Yes,' said Barry, turning his eyes
+towards him, 'she is very--very ill; tell Repton so, and he 'll feel for
+me!'"
+
+Repton pressed his handkerchief to his face and turned away.
+
+"I 'm afraid," said Massingbred, "that her state is highly dangerous.
+The few words the doctor dropped were full of serious meaning."
+
+"Let us hope, and pray," said Repton, fervently, "that, amidst all the
+calamities of this sorrow-struck land, it may be spared the loss of one
+who never opened a cabin door without a blessing, nor closed it but to
+shut a hope within."
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXVII. A DARK DAY
+
+A mild, soft day, with low-lying clouds, and rich odors of wild-flowers
+rising from the ground, a certain dreamy quiet pervading earth and sky
+and sea, over which faint shadows lingered lazily; some drops of the
+night dew still glittered on the feathery larches, and bluebells hung
+down their heads, heavy with moisture; so still the scene that the plash
+of the leaping trout could be heard as he rose in the dark stream. And
+yet there was a vast multitude of people there. The whole surface of the
+lawn that sloped from the cottage to the river was densely crowded, with
+every age, from the oldest to very infancy; with all conditions, from
+the well-clad peasant to the humblest "tramper" of the high-roads.
+Weariness, exhaustion, and even hunger were depicted on many of their
+faces. Some had passed the night there; others had come long distances,
+faint and footsore; but as they sat, stood, or lay in groups around,
+not a murmur, not a whisper escaped them; with aching eyes they looked
+towards an open window, where the muslin curtain was gently stirred in
+the faint air.
+
+The tidings of Mary Martin's illness had spread rapidly: far-away glens
+down the coast, lonely cabins on the bleak mountains, wild remote spots
+out of human intercourse had heard the news, and their dwellers had
+travelled many a mile to satisfy their aching hearts.
+
+From a late hour of the evening before they had learnt nothing of her
+state; then a few words whispered by old Catty to those nearest the door
+told "that she was no better,--if anything, weaker!" These sad tidings
+were soon passed from lip to lip; and thus they spent the night, praying
+or watching wearily, their steadfast gaze directed towards that spot
+where the object of all their fears and hopes lay suffering.
+
+Of those there, there was scarcely one to whom she was not endeared by
+some personal benefit. She had aided this one in distress, the other she
+had nursed in fever; here were the old she had comforted and cheered,
+there the children she had taught and trained beside her chair. Her
+gentle voice yet vibrated in every heart, her ways of kindness were in
+every memory. Sickness and sorrow were familiar enough to themselves.
+Life was, at least to most of them, one long struggle; but they could
+not bring themselves to think of _her_ thus stricken down! She! that
+seemed an angel, as much above the casualties of such fortune as theirs
+as she was their superior in station,--that _she_ should be sick and
+suffering was too terrible to think of.
+
+There was a stir and movement in the multitude, a wavy, surging motion,
+for the doctor was seen to issue from the stable-yard, and lead his pony
+towards the bridge. He stopped to say a word or two as he went. They
+were sad words; and many a sobbing voice and many a tearful eye told
+what his tidings had been. "Sinking,--sinking rapidly!"
+
+A faint low cry burst from one in the crowd at this moment, and the
+rumor ran that a woman had fainted. It was poor Joan, who had come that
+night over the mountain, and, overcome by grief and exhaustion together,
+had at last given way.
+
+"Get a glass of wine for her, or even a cup of water," cried out three
+or four voices; and one nigh the door entered the cottage in search of
+aid. The moment after a tall and handsome girl forced her way through
+the crowd, and gave directions that Joan might be carried into the
+house.
+
+"Why did ye call her my Lady?" muttered an old hag to one of the men
+near her; "sure, she's Henderson's daughter!"
+
+"Is she, faith? By my conscience, then, she might be a better man's!
+She's as fine a crayture as ever I seen!"
+
+"If she has a purty face, she has a proud heart!" muttered another.
+
+"Ayeh! she'll never be like _her_ that's going to leave us!" sighed a
+young woman with a black ribbon in her cap.
+
+Meanwhile Kate had Joan assisted into the cottage, and was busily
+occupied in restoring her. Slowly, and with difficulty, the poor
+creature came to herself, and gazing wildly around, asked where she was;
+then suddenly bursting out in tears, she said,--"Sure, I know well where
+I am; sure, it's my own self, brought grief and sorrow under this roof.
+But for _me_ she 'd be well and hearty this day!"
+
+"Let us still hope," said Kate, softly. "Let us hope that one so dear
+to us all may be left here. You are better now. I 'll join you again
+presently." And with noiseless footsteps she stole up the stairs. As she
+came to the door, she halted and pressed her hands to her heart, as if
+in pain. There was a low murmuring sound, as if of voices, from within,
+and Kate turned away and sat down on the stairs.
+
+Within the sick-room a subdued light came, and a soft air, mild and
+balmy, for the rose-trees and the jessamine clustered over the window,
+and mingled their blossoms across it. Mary had just awoke from a
+short sleep, and lay with her hand clasped within that of a large and
+white-haired man at the bedside.
+
+"What a good, kind doctor!" said she, faintly; "I'm sure to find you
+ever beside me when I awake."
+
+"Oh, darlin', dear," broke in old Catty, "sure you ought to know who he
+is. Sure it 's your own--"
+
+"Hush! be silent!" muttered the old man, in a low, stern voice.
+
+"Is it Tuesday to-day?" asked Mary, softly.
+
+"Yes, dear, Tuesday," said the old man.
+
+"It was on Thursday my poor uncle died. Could I live till Thursday,
+doctor?"
+
+The old man tried to speak, but could not.
+
+"You are afraid to shock me," said she, with a faint attempt to smile,
+"but if you knew how happy I am,--happy even to leave a life I loved
+so well. It never could have been the same again, though--the spell was
+breaking, hardship and hunger were maddening them--who knows to what
+counsels they 'd have listened soon! Tell Harry to be kind to them,
+won't you? Tell him not to trust to others, but to know them himself; to
+go, as I have done, amongst them. They 'll love him _so_ for doing it.
+He is a man, young, rich, and high-hearted,--how they 'll dote upon him!
+Catty used to say it was my father they 'd have worshipped; but that was
+in flattery to me, Catty, you always said we were so like--"
+
+"Oh dear! oh dear! why won't you tell her?" broke in Catty. But a severe
+gesture from the old man again checked her words.
+
+"How that wild night at sea dwells in my thoughts! I never sleep but to
+dream of it. Cousin Harry must not forget those brave fellows. I
+have nothing to requite them with. I make no will, doctor," said she,
+smiling, "for my only legacy is that nosegay there. Will you keep it for
+my sake?"
+
+The old man hid his face, but his strong frame shook and quivered in the
+agony of the moment.
+
+"Hush!" said she, softly; "I hear voices without. Who are they?"
+
+"They're the country-people, darlin', come from Kiltimmon and beyond
+Kyle-a-Noe, to ax after you. They passed the night there, most of them."
+
+"Catty, dear, take care that you look after them; they will be hungry
+and famished, poor creatures! Oh, how unspeakably grateful to one's
+heart is this proof of feeling! Doctor, you will tell Harry how _I_
+loved _them_ and how _they_ loved _me_. Tell him, too, that this bond
+of affection is the safest and best of all ties. Tell him that their old
+love for a Martin still survives in their hearts, and it will be his
+own fault if he does not transmit it to his children. There's some one
+sobbing there without. Oh, bid them be of good heart, Catty; there is
+none who could go with less of loss to those behind. There--there come
+the great waves again before me! How my courage must have failed me to
+make this impression so deep! And poor Joan, and that dear fond girl
+who has been as a sister to me,--so full of gentleness and love,--Kate,
+where is she? No, do not call her; say that I asked for her--that I
+blessed her--and sent her this kiss!" She pressed a rose to her hot,
+parched lips as she spoke, and then closing her eyes seemed to fall off
+to sleep. Her breathing, at first strong and frequent, grew fainter and
+fainter, and her color came and went, while her lips slightly moved, and
+a low, soft murmur came from them.
+
+"She's asleep," muttered Catty, as she crouched down beside the bed.
+
+The old man bent over the bed, and watched the calm features. He sat
+thus long, for hours, but no change was there; he put his lips to hers,
+and then a sickly shuddering came over him, and a low, deep groan, that
+seemed to rend his very heart!
+
+Three days after, the great gateway of Cro' Martin Castle opened to
+admit a stately hearse drawn by six horses, all mournfully caparisoned,
+shaking with plumes and black-fringed drapery. Two mourning-coaches
+followed, and then the massive gates were closed, and the sad pageant
+wound its slow course through the demesne. At the same moment another
+funeral was approaching the churchyard by a different road. It was a
+coffin borne by men bareheaded and sorrow-struck. An immense multitude
+followed, of every rank and age; sobs and sighs broke from them as they
+went. Not an eye was tearless, not a lip that did not tremble. At the
+head of this procession walked a small group whose dress and bearing
+bespoke their class. These were Barry Martin, leaning on Repton;
+Massingbred and the two Nelligans came behind.
+
+The two coffins entered the churchyard at the same instant The uncle
+and the niece were laid side by side in the turf! The same sacred words
+consigned them both to their last bed; the same second of time heard the
+dank reverberation that pronounced "earth" had returned "to earth." A
+kind of reverential awe pervaded the immense crowd during the ceremony,
+and if here and there a sob would burst from some overburdened
+heart, all the rest were silent; respecting, with a deference of true
+refinement, a sorrow deeper and greater than their own, they never
+uttered a word, but with bent-down heads stole quietly away. And now
+by each grave the mourners stood, silently gazing on the little mounds
+which typify so much of human sorrow!
+
+Barry Martin's bronzed and weather-beaten features were a thought paler,
+perhaps. There was a dark shade of color round the eyes, but on the
+whole the expression conveyed far more of sternness than sorrow. Such,
+indeed, is no uncommon form for grief to take in certain natures. There
+are men who regard calamity like a foe, and go out to meet it in a
+spirit of haughty defiance. A poor philosophy! He who accepts it as
+chastisement is both a braver and a better man!
+
+Repton stood for a while beside him, not daring to interrupt his
+thoughts. At length he whispered a few words in his ear. Barry started
+suddenly, and his dark brow grew sterner and more resolute.
+
+"Yes, Martin, you must," said Repton, eagerly, "I insist upon it. Good
+heavens! is it at such a time, in such a place as this, you can harbor a
+thought that is not forgiveness? Remember he is poor Godfrey's son, the
+last of the race now." As he spoke, passing his arm within the other's,
+he drew him gently along, and led him to where a solitary mourner was
+standing beside the other grave.
+
+Barry Martin stood erect and motionless, while Repton spoke to the young
+man. At first the words seemed to confuse and puzzle him, for he
+looked vaguely around, and passed his hand across his brow in evident
+difficulty.
+
+"Did you say here, in this country? Do I understand you aright?"
+
+"Here, in this very spot; there, standing now before you!" said Repton,
+as he pushed young Martin towards his uncle.
+
+Barry held out his hand, which the young man grasped eagerly; and then,
+as if unable to resist his emotions longer, fell, sobbing violently,
+into the other's arms.
+
+"Let us leave them for a while," said Repton, hurrying over to where
+Massingbred and the Nelligans were yet standing in silent sorrow.
+
+They left the spot together without a word. Grief had its own part for
+each. It is not for us to say where sorrow eat deepest, or in which
+heart the desolation was most complete.
+
+"I'd not have known young Martin," whispered Nelligan in Repton's ear;
+"he looks full twelve years older than when last I saw him."
+
+"The fast men of this age, sir, live their youth rapidly," replied the
+other. "It is rarely their fortune to survive to be like me, or heaven
+knows what hearts they would be left with!"
+
+While they thus talked, Massingbred and Joe Nelligan had strolled away
+into the wood. Neither spoke. Massingbred felt the violent trembling
+of the other's arm as it rested on his own, and saw a gulping effort by
+which more than once he suppressed his rising emotion. For hours they
+thus loitered along, and at length, as they issued from the demesne,
+they found Repton and Mr. Nelligan awaiting them.
+
+"Barry Martin has taken his nephew back with him to the cottage," said
+Repton, "and we 'll not intrude upon them for the rest of the evening."
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXVIII. REPTON'S LAST CAUSE
+
+We have no right, as little have we the inclination, to inflict our
+reader with the details by which Barry Martin asserted and obtained his
+own. A suit in which young Martin assumed to be the defendant developed
+the whole history to the world, and proclaimed his title to the estate.
+It was a memorable case in many ways; it was the last brief Val Repton
+ever held. Never was his clear and searching intellect more conspicuous;
+never did he display more logical acuteness, nor trace out a difficult
+narrative with more easy perspicuity.
+
+"My Lords," said he, as he drew nigh the conclusion of his speech, "it
+would have been no ordinary satisfaction to me to close a long life of
+labor in these courts by an effort which restores to an ancient name the
+noble heritage it had held for centuries. I should have deemed such
+an occasion no unfitting close to a career not altogether void of its
+successes; but the event has still stronger claims upon my gratitude. It
+enables me in all the unembellished sternness of legal proof to display
+to an age little credulous of much affection the force of a brother's
+love,--the high-hearted devotion by which a man encountered a long life
+of poverty and privation, rather than disturb the peaceful possession of
+a brother.
+
+"Romance has its own way of treating such themes; but I do not
+believe romance can add one feature to the simple fact of this man's
+self-denial.
+
+"We should probably be lost in our speculations as to the noble motives
+of this sacrifice, if our attention was not called away to something
+infinitely finer and more exalted than even this. I mean the glorious
+life and martyr's death of her who has made a part of this case less
+like a legal investigation than the page of an affecting story. Story,
+do I say! Shame on the word! It is in truth and reality alone are such
+virtues inscribed. Fiction cannot deal with the humble materials that
+make up such an existence,--the long hours of watching by sickness; the
+weary care of teaching the young; the trying disappointments to hope
+bravely met by fresh efforts; the cheery encouragement drawn from a
+heart exhausting itself to supply others. Think of a young girl--a very
+child in the world's wisdom, more than a man in heroism and daring, with
+a heart made for every high ambition, and a station that might command
+the highest--calmly consenting to be the friend of destitution, the
+companion of misery, the daily associate of every wretchedness; devoting
+grace that might have adorned a court to shed happiness in a cabin,
+and making of beauty that would have shed lustre around a palace the
+sunshine that pierced the gloom of a peasant's misery! Picture to
+yourself the hand a prince might have knelt to kiss, holding the cup to
+the lips of fever; fancy the form whose elegance would have fascinated,
+crouched down beside the embers as she spoke words of consolation or
+hope to some bereaved mother or some desolate orphan!
+
+"These are not the scenes we are wont to look on here. Our cares are,
+unhappily, more with the wiles and snares of crafty men than with the
+sorrows and sufferings of the good! It is not often human nature wears
+its best colors in this place; the spirit of litigious contest little
+favors the virtues that are the best adornments of our kind. Thrice
+happy am I, then, that I end my day where a glorious sunset gilds
+its last hours; that I close my labors not in reprobating crime or
+stigmatizing baseness, but with a full heart, thanking God that my last
+words are an elegy over the grave of the best of The Martins of Cro'
+Martin.'"
+
+The inaccurate record from which we take these passages--for the only
+report of the trial is in a newspaper of the time--adds that the emotion
+of the speaker had so far pervaded the court that the conclusion was
+drowned in mingled expressions of applause and sorrow; and when Repton
+retired, he was followed by the whole bar, eagerly pressing to take
+their last farewell of its honored father.
+
+The same column of the paper mentions that Mr. Joseph Nelligan was to
+have made his first motion that day as Solicitor-General, but had left
+the court from a sudden indisposition, and the cause was consequently
+deferred.
+
+If Val Repton never again took his place in court, he did not entirely
+abdicate his functions. Barry Martin had determined on making a
+conveyance of the estate to his nephew, and the old lawyer was for
+several weeks busily employed in that duty. Although Merl's claim became
+extinguished when young Martin's right to the property was annulled,
+Barry Martin insisted on arrangements being made to repay him all that
+he had advanced,--a course which Repton, with some little hesitation, at
+last concurred in. He urged Barry to reserve a life-interest to himself
+in the property, representing the various duties which more properly
+would fall to his lot than to that of a young and inexperienced
+proprietor. But he would not hear of it.
+
+"He cannot abide the place," said Repton, when talking the matter over
+with Massingbred. "He is one of those men who never can forgive the
+locality where they have been miserable, nor the individual who has had
+a share in their sorrow. When he settles his account with Henderson,
+then he 'll leave the West forever."
+
+"And will he still leave Henderson in his charge?" asked Jack.
+
+"That is as it may be," said Repton, cautiously. "There is, as I
+understand, some very serious reckoning between them. It is the only
+subject on which Martin has kept mystery with me, and I do not like even
+to advert to it."
+
+Massingbred pondered long over these words, without being able to make
+anything of them.
+
+It might be that Henderson's conduct had involved him in some grave
+charge; and if so, Jack's own intentions with regard to the daughter
+would be burdened with fresh complications. "The steward" was bad
+enough; but if he turned out to be the "unjust steward"--"I 'll start
+for Galway to-night," thought he. "I 'll anticipate the discovery,
+whatever it be. She can no longer refuse to see me on the pretext of
+recent sorrow. It is now two months and more since this bereavement
+befell her. I can no longer combat this life of anxiety and doubt.--What
+can I do for you in the West, sir?" asked he of Repton, suddenly.
+
+"Many things, my young friend," said Repton, "if you will delay your
+departure two days, since they are matters on which I must instruct you
+personally."
+
+Massingbred gave a kind of half-consent, and the other went on to speak
+of the necessity for some nice diplomacy between the uncle and his
+nephew. "They know each other but little; they are on the verge of
+misunderstandings a dozen times a day. Benefits are, after all, but
+sorry ties between man and man. They may ratify the treaty of affection;
+they rarely inscribe the contract!"
+
+"Still Martin cannot but feel that to the noblest act of his uncle's
+generosity he is indebted for all he possesses."
+
+"Of course he knows, and he feels it; but who is to say whether that
+same consciousness is not a load too oppressive to bear. I know already
+Barry Martin's suggestions as to certain changes have not been well
+taken, and he is eager and pressing to leave Ireland, lest anything
+should disturb the concord, frail as it is, between them."
+
+"By Jove!" exclaimed Massingbred, passionately, "there is wonderfully
+little real good in this world; wonderfully little that can stand the
+test of the very basest of all motives,--mere gain."
+
+"Don't say so!" cried Repton. "Men have far better natures than you
+think; the fault lies in their tempers. Ay, sir, we are always entering
+into heavy recognizances with our passions, to do fifty things we never
+cared for. We have said this, we have heard the other; somebody sneered
+at that, and some one else agreed with him; and away we go, pitching all
+reason behind us, like an old shoe, and only seeking to gratify a whim,
+or a mere caprice, suggested by temper. Why do people maintain friendly
+intercourse at a distance for years, who could not pass twenty-four
+hours amicably under the same roof? Simply because it is their natures,
+and not their tempers, are in exercise."
+
+"I scarcely can separate the two in my mind," said Jack, doubtingly.
+
+"Can't you, sir? Why, nature is your skin, temper only your great-coat."
+And the old lawyer laughed heartily at his own conceit. "But here comes
+the postman."
+
+The double knock had scarcely reverberated through the spacious hall
+when the servant entered with a letter.
+
+"Ah! Barry Martin's hand. What have we here?" said Repton, as he ran his
+eyes over it. "So-so; just as I was saying this minute, only that Barry
+has the good sense to see it himself. 'My nephew,' he writes, 'has his
+own ideas on all these subjects, which are not mine; and as it is no
+part of my plan to hamper my gift with conditions that might impair its
+value, I mean to leave this at once.
+
+"'I have had my full share of calamity since I set foot in this land;
+and if this rugged old nature could be crushed by mere misfortune, the
+last two months might have done it. But no, Repton, the years by which
+we survive friends serve equally to make us survive affections, and we
+live on, untouched by time!
+
+"'I mean to be with you this evening. Let us dine alone together, for I
+have much to say to you.
+
+"' Yours ever,
+
+"'Barry Martin.
+
+"'I hope I may see Massingbred before I sail. I 'd like to shake hands
+with him once again. Say so to him, at all events.'"
+
+"Come in to-morrow to breakfast," said Repton; "by that time we'll have
+finished all mere business affairs." And Massingbred having assented,
+they parted.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXIX. TOWARDS THE END
+
+Repton was standing at his parlor window, anxiously awaiting his
+friend's arrival, when the chaise with four posters came to the door.
+"What have we here?" said the old lawyer to himself, as Barry assisted
+a lady dressed in deep mourning to alight, and hurried out to receive
+them.
+
+"I have not come alone, Repton," said the other. "I have brought my
+daughter with me." Before Repton could master his amazement at these
+words, she had thrown back her veil, revealing the well-known features
+of Kate Henderson.
+
+"Is this possible?--is this really the case?" cried Repton, as he
+grasped her hand between both his own. "Do I, indeed, see one I have so
+long regarded and admired, as the child of my old friend?"
+
+"Fate, that dealt me so many heavy blows of late, had a kindness in
+reserve for me, after all," said Barry. "I am not to be quite alone in
+this world!"
+
+"If _you_ be grateful, what ought not to be _my_ thankfulness?" said
+Kate, tremulously.
+
+"Leave us for a moment together, Kate," said Barry; and taking Repton's
+arm, he led him into an inner room.
+
+"I have met with many a sore cut from fortune, Repton," said he, in the
+fierce tone that was most natural to him; "the nearest and dearest to
+me not the last to treat me harshly. I need not tell you how I have been
+requited in life; not, indeed, that I seek to acquit myself of my own
+share of ill. My whole career has been a fault; it could not bring other
+fruit than misery." He paused, and for a while seemed laboring in strong
+emotion. At last he went on:--
+
+"When that girl was born--it was two years before I married--I intrusted
+the charge of her to Henderson, who placed her with a sister
+of his in Bruges. I made arrangements for her maintenance and
+education,--liberally for one as poor as I was. I made but one condition
+about her. It was that under no circumstances save actual want should
+she ever be reduced to earn her own bread; but if the sad hour did come,
+never--as had been her poor mothers fate--never as a governess! It was
+in that fearful struggle of condition I first knew her. I continued,
+year after year, to hear of her; remitting regularly the sums I
+promised,--doubling, tripling them, when fortune favored me with a
+chance prosperity. The letters spoke of her as well and happy, in humble
+but sufficient circumstances, equally remote from privation as from the
+seductions of a more exalted state. I insisted eagerly on my original
+condition, and hoped some day to hear of her being married to
+some honest but humble man. It was not often that I had time for
+self-reproach; but when such seasons would beset me, I thought of this
+girl, and her poor mother long dead and gone--But let me finish. While I
+struggled--and it was often a hard struggle--to maintain my side of the
+compact, selling at ruinous loss acquisitions it had cost me years of
+labor to obtain, this fellow, this Henderson, was basely betraying the
+trust I placed in him! The girl, for whose protection, whose safety
+I was toiling, was thrown by him into the very world for which I had
+distinctly excepted her; her talents, her accomplishments, her very
+graces, farmed out and hired for his own profit! Launched into the very
+sea where her own mother met shipwreck, she was a mere child, sent to
+thread her way through the perils of the most dissipated society. Hear
+her own account of it, Repton. Let _her_ tell you what is the tone of
+that high life to which foreign nobility imparts its fascinations. Not
+that I want to make invidious comparisons; our own country sends its
+high tributaries to every vice of Europe! I know not what accident saved
+her amidst this pollution. Some fancied theory of popular wrongs, she
+thinks, gave her a kind of factitious heroism; elevating her, at least
+to her own mind, above the frivolous corruptions around her. She was a
+democrat, to rescue her from being worse.
+
+"At last came a year of unusual pressure; my remittance was delayed, but
+when sent was never acknowledged. From that hour out I never heard of
+her. How she came into my brother's family, you yourself know. What was
+her life there, she has told me! Not in any spirit of complaint,--nay,
+she acknowledges to many kindnesses and much trust. Even my cold
+sister-in-law showed traits for which I had not given her credit. I have
+already forgotten her wrongs towards myself, in requital of her conduct
+to this poor girl."
+
+"I'll spare you the scene with Henderson, Repton," said he, after a long
+pause. "When the fellow told me that the girl was the same I had seen
+watching by another's sickbed, that she it was whose never-ceasing cares
+had soothed the last hours of one dearer than herself, I never gave
+another thought to him. I rushed out in search of her, to tell her
+myself the tidings."
+
+"How did she hear it?" asked Repton, eagerly.
+
+"More calmly than I could tell it. Her first words were, 'Thank God for
+this, for I never could love that man I had called my father!'"
+
+"She knows, then, every circumstance of her birth?"
+
+"I told her everything. We know each other as well as though we had
+lived under the same roof for years. She is my own child in every
+sentiment and feeling. She is frank and fearless, Repton,--two qualities
+that will do well enough in the wild savannahs of the New World, but
+would be unmanageable gifts in the Old, and thither we are bound. I have
+written to Liverpool about a ship, and we shall sail on Saturday."
+
+"How warmly do I sympathize in this your good fortune, Martin!" said
+Repton. "She is a noble creature, and worthy of belonging to you."
+
+"I ask for nothing more, Repton," said he, solemnly. "Fortune and
+station, such as they exist here, I have no mind for! I'm too old now
+to go to school about party tactics and politics; I'm too stubborn,
+besides, to yield up a single conviction for the sake of unity with a
+party,--so much for my unfitness for public life. As to private, I am
+rough and untrained; the forms of society so pleasant to others would be
+penalties to _me_. And then," said he, rising, and drawing up his figure
+to its full height, "I love the forest and the prairie; I glory in the
+vastness of a landscape where the earth seems boundless as the sky, and
+where, if I hunt down a buffalo-ox, after twenty miles of a chase,
+I have neither a game-law nor a gamekeeper nor a charge of trespass
+hanging over me."
+
+"There's some one knocking at the door," said Repton, as he arose and
+opened it.
+
+"A thousand pardons for this interruption," said Mas-singbred, in a low
+and eager voice, "but I cannot keep my promise to you; I cannot defer my
+journey to the West. I start to-night. Don't ask me the reasons. I 'll
+be free enough to give them if they justify me."
+
+"But here is one who wishes to shake hands with you, Massingbred," said
+Repton, as he led him forward into the room.
+
+"I hope you are going to keep your pledge with me, though," said Barry.
+"Have you forgotten you have promised to be my guest over the sea?"
+
+"Ah," said Jack, sighing, "I 've had many a day-dream of late!"
+
+"The man's in love," said Repton. "Nay, prisoner, you are not called on
+to say what may criminate you. I 'll tell you what, Barry, you 'll do
+the boy good service by taking him along with you. There 's a healthful
+sincerity in the active life of the New World well fitted to dispel
+illusions that take their rise in the indolent voluptuousness of the
+Old. Carry him off then, I say; accept no excuses nor apologies. Send
+him away to buy powder and shot, leather gaiters, and the rest of it.
+When I saw him first myself, it was in the character of a poacher, and
+he filled the part well. Ah! he is gone," added he, perceiving that
+Martin had just quitted the room. "Poor fellow, he is so full of his
+present happiness,--the first gleam of real sunshine on a long day of
+lowering gloom! He has just found a daughter,--an illegitimate one, but
+worthy to be the rightful-born child to the first man in the land. The
+discovery has carried him back twenty years of life, and freshened a
+heart whose wells of feeling were all but dried up forever. If I mistake
+not, you must have met her long ago at Cro' Martin."
+
+"Possibly. I have no recollection of it," said Jack, musing.
+
+"An ignoble confession, sir," said Repton; "no less shocked should I
+be were she to tell me she was uncertain if she had ever met Mr.
+Massingbred. As Burke once remarked to me, 'Active intelligences,
+like appropriate ingredients in chemistry, never meet without fresh
+combinations.' It is then a shame to ignore such products. I 'd swear
+that when you did meet you understood each other thoroughly; agreed
+well,--ay, and what is more to the purpose, differed in the right places
+too."
+
+"I'm certain we did," said Jack, smiling, "though I'm ungrateful enough
+to forget all about it."
+
+"Well," said Martin, entering, "I have sent for another advocate to
+plead my cause. My daughter will tell you, sir, that she, at least, is
+not afraid to encounter the uncivilized glens beside the Orinoco. Come
+in, Kate. You tell me that you and Mr. Massingbred are old friends."
+
+Massingbred started as he heard the name, looked up, and there stood
+Kate before him, with her hand extended in welcome.
+
+"Good heavens! what is this? Am I in a dream? Can this be real?" cried
+Jack, pressing his hands to his temples, and trembling from head to foot
+in the intensity of his anxiety.
+
+"My father tells me of an invitation he has given you, Mr. Massingbred,"
+said she, smiling faintly at his embarrassment, "and asks me to repeat
+it; but I know far better than he does all that you would surrender by
+exile from the great world wherein you are destined to eminence. The
+great debater, the witty conversationalist, the smart reviewer, might
+prove but a sorry trapper, and even a bad shot! I have my scruples,
+then, about supporting a cause where my conscience does not go along
+with me."
+
+"My head on't, but he 'll like the life well," said Barry, half
+impatiently.
+
+"Am I to think that you will not ask me to be your guest?" said Jack, in
+a whisper, only audible by Kate.
+
+"I have not said so," said she, in the same low tone. "Will you go
+further, Kate," muttered he, in tremulous eagerness, "and say, 'Come'?"
+"Yes!" said she. "Come!"
+
+[Illustration: 410]
+
+"I accept!" cried Jack, rushing over, and grasping Martin's hands
+between his own. "I 'm ready,--this hour, this instant, if you like it."
+
+"We find the prisoner guilty, my Lords," said Repton; "but we recommend
+him to mercy, as his manner on this occasion convinces us it is a first
+offence."
+
+We have now done with the Martins of Cro' Martin. Should any of our
+readers feel a curiosity as to the future fortunes of the estate, its
+story, like that of many another Irish property, is written in the
+Encumbered Estates Court. Captain Martin only grew wiser by the especial
+experience of one class of difficulties. His indolent, easy disposition
+and a taste for expense led him once again into embarrassments from
+which there was but one issue,--the sale of his property. He has still,
+however, a handsome subsistence remaining, and lives with Lady Dorothea,
+notable and somewhat distinguished residents of a city on the Continent.
+
+We cannot persuade ourselves that we have inspired interest for the
+humbler characters of our piece. Nor dare we ask the reader to hear
+more about Mrs. Cronan and her set, nor learn how Kilkieran fared in the
+changes around it.
+
+For Joseph Nelligan, however, we claim a parting word. He was the first
+of an order of men who have contributed no small share to the great
+social revolution of Ireland in late years. With talents fully equal
+to the best in the opposite scale of party, and a character above all
+reproach, he stood a rebuking witness to all the taunts and sarcasms
+once indiscriminately levelled at his class; and, at the same time,
+inspired his own party with the happy knowledge that there was a nobler
+and more legitimate road to eminence than by factious display and
+popular declamation.
+
+We do not wish to inquire how far the one great blow to his
+happiness--the disappointment of his early life--contributed to his
+success by concentrating his ambition on his career. Certain is it,
+no man achieved a higher or more rapid elevation, and old Dan lived
+to receive at his board the Chief Justice of the Queen's Bench in the
+person of his own son.
+
+Poor Simmy Crow! for if we would forget him, he has taken care that
+oblivion is not to be his fate. He has sent from the Rocky Mountains,
+where he is now wandering with Barry Martin, some sketches of Indian
+Life to the Irish Art Exhibition.
+
+If it be a pleasure to trace in our friends the traits we have admired
+in them in youth, and remark the embers of the fires that once wanned
+their hearts, Simmy affords us this gratification, since his drawings
+reveal the inspirations that first filled his early mind. The Chief
+in his war-paint has a fac-simile likeness to his St. John in the
+Wilderness; and as for the infant the squaw is bathing in the stream, we
+can produce twelve respectable witnesses to depose that it is "Moses."
+
+We are much tempted to add a word about the Exiles themselves, but
+we abstain. It is enough to say that all the attractive prospects of
+ambition held out by friends, all the seductions of generous offers from
+family, have never tempted them to return to the Old World; but that
+they live on happily, far away from the jarring collisions of life, the
+tranquil existence they had longed for.
+
+THE END.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Martins Of Cro' Martin, Vol. II
+(of II), by Charles James Lever
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+  <head>
+    <meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=UTF-8" />
+    <title>
+      The Martins of Cro' Martin, by Charles James Lever
+    </title>
+    <style type="text/css" xml:space="preserve">
+
+    body { margin:5%; text-align:justify}
+    P { text-indent: 1em; margin-top: .25em; margin-bottom: .25em; }
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+    hr  { width: 50%; text-align: center;}
+    .foot { margin-left: 20%; margin-right: 20%; text-align: justify; text-indent: -3em; font-size: 90%; }
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+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+
+The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Martins Of Cro' Martin, Vol. II (of II), by
+Charles James Lever
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: The Martins Of Cro' Martin, Vol. II (of II)
+
+Author: Charles James Lever
+
+Illustrator: Phiz.
+
+Release Date: February 2, 2011 [EBook #35144]
+Last Updated: February 28, 2018
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: UTF-8
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE MARTINS OF CRO' MARTIN ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by David Widger
+
+
+
+
+
+</pre>
+
+<p>
+<br /><br />
+</p>
+<h1>
+THE MARTINS OF CRO' MARTIN
+</h1>
+<h2>
+By Charles James Lever
+</h2>
+<p>
+<br />
+</p>
+<h3>
+With Illustrations By Phiz.
+</h3>
+<p>
+<br /><br />
+</p>
+<h4>
+In Two Volumes
+</h4>
+<h3>
+Vol. II.
+</h3>
+<p>
+<br /><br />
+</p>
+<h4>
+Boston: Little, Brown, And Company.
+</h4>
+<h4>
+1906
+</h4>
+<p>
+<br /> <br />
+</p>
+<hr />
+<p>
+<br /> <br /> <br />
+</p>
+<div class="fig" style="width:80%;">
+<img alt="frontispiece (178K)" src="images/frontispiece.jpg" width="100%" />
+</div>
+<p>
+<br /> <br />
+</p>
+<div class="fig" style="width:80%;">
+<img alt="titelpage (24K)" src="images/titelpage.jpg" width="100%" />
+</div>
+<p>
+<br />
+</p>
+<blockquote>
+<p class="toc">
+<big><b>CONTENTS</b></big>
+</p>
+<p>
+<br /> <b><a href="#link2H_4_0001"> THE MARTINS OF CRO' MARTIN. </a></b><br />
+<br /> <a href="#link2HCH0001"> CHAPTER I. </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;MR. HERMAN
+MERL <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0002"> CHAPTER II. </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;MR.
+MERL <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0003"> CHAPTER III. </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;A
+YOUNG DUCHESS AND AN OLD FRIEND <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0004">
+CHAPTER IV. </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;A VERY GREAT FAVOR <br /><br /> <a
+href="#link2HCH0005"> CHAPTER V. </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;A LETTER FROM HOME
+<br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0006"> CHAPTER VI. </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;MR.
+MERL'S DEPARTURE <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0007"> CHAPTER VII. </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;THE
+CLUB <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0008"> CHAPTER VIII. </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;AN
+EVENING OF ONE OP THE &ldquo;THREE DAYS&rdquo; <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0009">
+CHAPTER IX. </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;SOME CONFESSIONS OF JACK MASSINGBRED <br /><br />
+<a href="#link2HCH0010"> CHAPTER X. </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;HOW ROGUES AGREE!
+<br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0011"> CHAPTER XI. </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;MR. MERL
+&ldquo;AT FENCE&rdquo; <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0012"> CHAPTER XII. </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;MR.
+MERL'S MEDITATIONS <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0013"> CHAPTER XIII.
+</a>&nbsp;&nbsp;A NIGHT OF STORM <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0014">
+CHAPTER XIV. </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;THE END OF A BAR MESS <br /><br /> <a
+href="#link2HCH0015"> CHAPTER XV. </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;A FIRST BRIEF <br /><br />
+<a href="#link2HCH0016"> CHAPTER XVI. </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;MR. REPTON LOOKS
+IN <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0017"> CHAPTER XVII. </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;LADY
+DOROTHEA'S LETTER <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0018"> CHAPTER XVIII.
+</a>&nbsp;&nbsp;MR. MERL'S EXPERIENCES IN THE WEST <br /><br /> <a
+href="#link2HCH0019"> CHAPTER XIX. </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;MR. MERL'S &ldquo;LAST&rdquo;
+ IRISH IMPRESSION <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0020"> CHAPTER XX. </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;SOMETHING
+NOT EXACTLY FLIRTATION <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0021"> CHAPTER XXI.
+</a>&nbsp;&nbsp;LADY DOROTHEA <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0022">
+CHAPTER XXII. </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;HOW PRIDE MEETS PRIDE <br /><br /> <a
+href="#link2HCH0023"> CHAPTER XXIII. </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;MAURICE SCANLAN
+ADVISES WITH &ldquo;HIS COUNSEL&rdquo; <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0024"> CHAPTER
+XXIV. </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;A CONSULTATION <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0025">
+CHAPTER XXV. </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;A COMPROMISE <br /><br /> <a
+href="#link2HCH0026"> CHAPTER XXVI. </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;A LETTER THAT NEVER
+REACHES ITS ADDRESS <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0027"> CHAPTER XXVII.
+</a>&nbsp;&nbsp;A VERY BRIEF INTERVIEW <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0028">
+CHAPTER XXVIII. </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;THE DARK SIDE OF A CHARACTER <br /><br />
+<a href="#link2HCH0029"> CHAPTER XXIX. </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;THE COTTAGE <br /><br />
+<a href="#link2HCH0030"> CHAPTER XXX. </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;"A TEA-PARTY&rdquo; AT
+MRS. CRONAN'S <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0031"> CHAPTER XXXI. </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;THE
+BRANNOCK ISLANDS <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0032"> CHAPTER XXXII. </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;LETTER
+FROM MASSINGBRED <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0033"> CHAPTER XXXIII.
+</a>&nbsp;&nbsp;A DINNER AT &ldquo;THE LODGE&rdquo; <br /><br /> <a
+href="#link2HCH0034"> CHAPTER XXXIV. </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;AN HONORED GUEST
+<br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0035"> CHAPTER XXXV. </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;HOW
+DIPLOMACY FAILED <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0036"> CHAPTER XXXVI. </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;A
+GREAT DISCOVERY <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0037"> CHAPTER XXXVII. </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;A
+DARK DAY <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0038"> CHAPTER XXXVIII. &nbsp;</a>&nbsp;&nbsp;REPTON'S
+LAST CAUSE <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0039"> CHAPTER XXXIX. </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;TOWARDS
+THE END <br /><br />
+</p>
+</blockquote>
+<p>
+<br /> <br />
+</p>
+<hr />
+<p>
+<br /> <br /> <a name="link2H_4_0001" id="link2H_4_0001">
+<!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+</p>
+<div style="height: 4em;">
+<br /><br /><br /><br />
+</div>
+<h1>
+THE MARTINS OF CRO' MARTIN.
+</h1>
+<p>
+<a name="link2HCH0001" id="link2HCH0001">
+<!--  H2 anchor --> </a> <br /><br />
+</p>
+<h2>
+CHAPTER I. MR. HERMAN MERL
+</h2>
+<p>
+This much-abused world of ours, railed at by divines, sneered down by
+cynics, slighted by philosophers, has still some marvellously pleasant
+things about it, amongst which, first and foremost, <i>facile princeps</i>,
+is Paris! In every other city of Europe there is a life to be learned and
+acquired just like a new language. You have to gain the acquaintance of
+certain people, obtain admission to certain houses, submit yourself to
+ways, habits, hours, all peculiar to the locality, and conform to usages
+in which&mdash;at first, at least&mdash;you rarely find anything beyond
+penalties on your time and your patience. But Paris demands no such
+sacrifices. To enjoy it, no apprenticeship is required. You become free of
+the guild at the Porte St. Denis. By the time you reach the Boulevards you
+have ceased to be a stranger. You enter the &ldquo;Frères&rdquo; at dinner hour like
+an old habitué. The atmosphere of light, elastic gayety around you, the
+tone of charming politeness that meets your commonest inquiry, the
+courtesy bestowed upon your character as a foreigner, are all as
+exhilarating in their own way as your sparkling glass of Moët, sipped in
+the window, from which you look down on plashing fountains, laughing
+children, and dark-eyed grisettes! The whole thing, in its bustle and
+movement, its splendor, sunlight, gilded furniture, mirrors, and smart
+toilettes, is a piece of natural magic, with this difference,&mdash;that
+its effect is ever new, ever surprising!
+</p>
+<p>
+Sad and sorrowful faces are, of course, to be met with, since grief has
+its portion everywhere; but that air of languid indifference, that look of
+wearied endurance, which we characterize by the classic term of &ldquo;boredom,&rdquo;
+ is, indeed, a rare spectacle in this capital; and yet now at the window of
+a splendid apartment in the Place Vendôme, listlessly looking down into
+the square beneath, stood a young man, every line of whose features
+conveyed this same expression. He had, although not really above
+twenty-four or twenty-five, the appearance of one ten years older. On a
+face of singular regularity, and decidedly handsome, dissipation had left
+its indelible traces. The eyes were deep sunk, the cheeks colorless, and
+around the angles of the mouth were those tell-tale circles which betray
+the action of an oft-tried temper, and the spirit that has gone through
+many a hard conflict. In figure he was very tall, and seemed more so in
+the folds of a long dressing-gown of antique brocade, which reached to his
+feet; a small, dark green skull-cap, with a heavy silver tassel, covered
+one side of his head, and in his hand he held a handsome meerschaum,
+which, half mechanically, he placed from time to time to his lips,
+although its bowl was empty.
+</p>
+<p>
+At a breakfast-table covered with all that could provoke appetite, sat a
+figure as much unlike him as could be. He was under the middle size, and
+slightly inclined to flesh, with a face which, but for some strange
+resemblance to what one has seen in pictures by the older artists, would
+have been unequivocally vulgar. The eyes were small, keen, and furtive;
+the nose, slightly concave in its outline, expanded beneath into nostrils
+wide and full; but the mouth, thick-lipped, sensual, and coarse, was more
+distinctive than all, and showed that Mr. Herman Merl was a gentleman of
+the Jewish persuasion,&mdash;a fact well corroborated by the splendor of a
+very flashy silk waistcoat, and various studs, gold chain, rings, and
+trinkets profusely scattered over his costume. And yet there was little of
+what we commonly recognize as the Jew in the character of his face. The
+eyes were not dark, the nose not aquiline; the hair, indeed, had the wavy
+massiveness of the Hebrew race; but Mr. Merl was a &ldquo;Red Jew,&rdquo; and the Red
+Jew, like the red partridge, is a species <i>per se</i>.
+</p>
+<p>
+<a name="linkimage-0001" id="linkimage-0001">
+<!-- IMG --></a>
+</p>
+<div class="fig" style="width:80%;">
+<img src="images/018.jpg" width="100%" alt="018 " />
+</div>
+<p>
+There was an ostentatious pretension in the &ldquo;get up&rdquo; of this gentleman.
+His moustache, his beard, his wrist-buttons, his shirt-studs, the camellia
+in his coat,&mdash;all, even to the heels of his boots, had been made
+studies, either to correct a natural defect, or show off what he fancied a
+natural advantage. He seemed to have studied color like a painter, for his
+dark brown frock was in true keeping with the tint of his skin; and yet,
+despite these painstaking efforts, the man was indelibly, hopelessly
+vulgar. Everything about him was imitation, but it was imitation that only
+displayed its own shortcomings.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I wonder how you can resist these oysters, Captain,&rdquo; said he, as he
+daintily adjusted one of these delicacies on his fork; &ldquo;and the Chablis, I
+assure you, is excellent.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I never eat breakfast,&rdquo; said the other, turning away from the window, and
+pacing the room with slow and measured tread.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Why, you are forgetting all the speculations that used to amuse us on the
+voyage,&mdash;the delicious little dinners we were to enjoy at the
+'Rocher,' the tempting dejeuners at 'Véfour's.' By Jove! how hungry you
+used to make me, with your descriptions of the appetizing fare before us;
+and here we have it now: Ardennes ham, fried in champagne; Ostend oysters,
+salmi of quails with truffles&mdash;and such truffles! Won't that tempt
+you?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+But his friend paid no attention to the appeal, and walking again to the
+window, looked out.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Those little drummers yonder have a busy day of it,&rdquo; said he, lazily;
+&ldquo;that's the fourth time they have had to beat the salute to Generals this
+morning.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Is there anything going on, then?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+But he never deigned an answer, and resumed his walk.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I wish you'd send away that hissing teakettle, it reminds me of a
+steamboat,&rdquo; said the Captain, peevishly; &ldquo;that is, if you have done with
+it.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;So it does,&rdquo; said the other, rising to ring the bell; &ldquo;there's the same
+discordant noise, and the&mdash;the&mdash;the&mdash;&rdquo; But the rest of the
+similitude would n't come, and Mr. Merl covered his retreat with the
+process of lighting a cigar,&mdash;an invaluable expedient that had served
+to aid many a more ready debater in like difficulty.
+</p>
+<p>
+It would be a somewhat tedious, perhaps not a very profitable task, to
+inquire how two men, so palpably dissimilar, had thus become what the
+world calls friends. Enough if we say that Captain Martin,&mdash;the heir
+of Cro' Martin,&mdash;when returning from India on leave, passed some time
+at the Cape, where, in the not very select society of the place, he met
+Mr. Merl. Now Mr. Merl had been at Ceylon, where he had something to do
+with a coffee plantation; and he had been at Benares, where opium
+interested him; and now again, at the Cape, a question of wine had
+probably some relation to his sojourn. In fact, he was a man travelling
+about the world with abundance of leisure, a well-stocked purse, and what
+our friends over the Strait would term an &ldquo;industrial spirit.&rdquo; Messes had
+occasionally invited him to their tables. Men in society got the habit of
+seeing him &ldquo;about,&rdquo; and he was in the enjoyment of that kind of tolerance
+which made every man feel, &ldquo;He's not <i>my</i> friend,&mdash;<i>I</i>
+didn't introduce him; but he seems a good sort of fellow enough!&rdquo; And so
+he was,&mdash;very good-tempered, very obliging, most liberal of his
+cigars, his lodgings always open to loungers, with pale ale, and even iced
+champagne, to be had |for asking. There was play, too; and although Merl
+was a considerable winner, he managed never to incur the jealous enmity
+that winning so often imposes. He was the most courteous of gamblers; he
+never did a sharp thing; never enforced a strict rule upon a novice of the
+game; tolerated every imaginable blunder of his partner with bland
+equanimity; and, in a word, if this great globe of ours had been a
+green-baize cloth, and all the men and women whist-players, Mr. Herman
+Merl had been the first gentleman in it, and carried off &ldquo;all the honors&rdquo;
+ in his own hand.
+</p>
+<p>
+If he was highly skilled in every game, it was remarked of him that he
+never proposed play himself, nor was he ever known to make a wager: he
+always waited to be asked to make up a party, or to take or give the odds,
+as the case might be. To a very shrewd observer, this might have savored a
+little too much of a system; but shrewd observers are, after all, not the
+current coin in the society of young men, and Merl's conduct was eminently
+successful.
+</p>
+<p>
+Merl suited Martin admirably. Martin was that species of man which, of all
+others, is most assailable by flattery. A man of small accomplishments, he
+sang a little, rode a little, played, drew, fenced, fished, shot&mdash;all,
+a little&mdash;that is, somewhat better than others in general, and giving
+him that dangerous kind of pre-eminence from which, though the tumble
+never kills, it occurs often enough to bruise and humiliate. But, worse
+than this, it shrouds its possessor in a triple mail of vanity, that makes
+him the easy prey of all who minister to it.
+</p>
+<p>
+We seldom consider how much locality influences our intimacies, and how
+impossible it had been for us even to know in some places the people we
+have made friends of in another. Harry Martin would as soon have thought
+of proposing his valet at &ldquo;Brookes's,&rdquo; as walk down Bond Street with Mr.
+Merl. Had he met him in London, every characteristic of the man would
+there have stood out in all the strong glare of contrast, but at the Cape
+it was different. Criticism would have been misplaced where all was
+irregular, and the hundred little traits&mdash;any one of which would have
+shocked him in England&mdash;were only smiled at as the eccentricities of
+a &ldquo;good-natured poor fellow, who had no harm in him.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Martin and Merl came to England in the same ship. It was a sudden thought
+of Merl's, only conceived the evening before she sailed; but Martin had
+lost a considerable sum at piquet to him on that night, and when signing
+the acceptances for payment, since he had not the ready money, somewhat
+peevishly remarked that it was hard he should not have his revenge.
+Whereupon Merl, tossing off a bumper of champagne, and appearing to speak
+under the influence of its stimulation, cried out, &ldquo;Hang me, Captain, if
+you shall say that! I 'll go and take my passage in the 'Elphinstone.'&rdquo;
+ And he did so, and he gave the Captain his revenge! But of all the
+passions, there is not one less profitable to indulge in. They played
+morning, noon, and night, through long days of sickening calm, through
+dreary nights of storm and hurricane, and they scarcely lifted their heads
+at the tidings that the Needles were in sight, nor even questioned the
+pilot for news of England, when he boarded them in the Downs. Martin had
+grown much older during that same voyage; his temper, too, usually imbued
+with the easy indolence of his father's nature, had grown impatient and
+fretful. A galling sense of inferiority to Merl poisoned every minute of
+his life. He would not admit it; he rejected it, but back it came; and if
+it did not enter into his heart, it stood there knocking,&mdash;knocking
+for admission. Each time they sat down to play was a perfect duel to
+Martin.
+</p>
+<p>
+As for Merl, his well-schooled faculties never were ruffled nor excited.
+The game had no power to fascinate <i>him</i>, its vicissitudes had
+nothing new or surprising to him; intervals of ill-luck, days even of
+dubious fortune might occur, but he knew he would win in the end, just as
+he knew that though there might intervene periods of bad weather and
+adverse winds, the good ship &ldquo;Elphinstone&rdquo; would arrive at last, and, a
+day sooner or a day later, discharge passengers and freight on the banks
+of the Thames.
+</p>
+<p>
+You may forgive the man who has rivalled you in love, the banker whose
+&ldquo;smash&rdquo; has engulfed all your fortune, the violent political antagonist
+who has assailed you personally, and in the House, perhaps, answered the
+best speech you ever made by a withering reply. You may extend feelings of
+Christian charity to the reviewer who has &ldquo;slashed&rdquo; your new novel, the
+lawyer whose vindictive eloquence has exposed, the artist in &ldquo;Punch&rdquo; who
+has immortalized, you; but there is one man you never forgive, of whom you
+will never believe one good thing, and to whom you would wish a thousand
+evil ones,&mdash;he is your natural enemy, brought into the world to be
+your bane, born that he may be your tormentor; and this is the man who <i>always</i>
+beats you at play! Happily, good reader, you may have no feelings of the
+gambler,&mdash;you may be of those to whom this fatal vice has never
+appealed, or appealed in vain; but if you <i>have</i> &ldquo;played,&rdquo; or even
+mixed with those who have, you could n't have failed to be struck with the
+fact that there is that one certain man from whom you never win! Wherever
+he is, there, too, is present your evil destiny! Now, there is no
+pardoning this,&mdash;the double injury of insult to your skill and damage
+to your pocket. Such a man as this becomes at last your master. You may
+sneer at his manners, scoff at his abilities, ridicule his dress, laugh at
+his vulgarity,&mdash;poor reprisals these! In his presence, the sense of
+that one superiority he possesses over you makes you quail! In the stern
+conflict, where your destiny and your capacity seem alike at issue, he
+conquers you,&mdash;not to-day or to-morrow, but ever and always! There he
+sits, arbiter of your fate,&mdash;only doubtful how long he may defer the
+day of your sentence!
+</p>
+<p>
+It is something in the vague indistinctness of this power&mdash;something
+that seems to typify the agency of the Evil One himself&mdash;that at once
+tortures and subdues you; and you ever hurry into fresh conflict with the
+ever-present consciousness of fresh defeat! We might have spared our
+reader this discursive essay, but that it pertains to our story. Such was
+the precise feeling entertained by Martin towards Merl. He hated him with
+all the concentration of his great hatred, and yet he could not
+disembarrass himself of his presence. He was ashamed of the man amongst
+his friends; he avoided him in all public places; he shrunk from his very
+contact as though infected; but he could not throw off his acquaintance,
+and he nourished in his heart a small ember of hope that one day or other
+the scale of fortune would turn, and he might win back again all he had
+ever lost, and stand free and unembarrassed as in the first hour he had
+met him! Fifty times had he consulted Fortune, as it were, to ask if this
+moment had yet arrived; but hitherto ever unsuccessfully,&mdash;Merl won
+on as before. Martin, however, invariably ceased playing when he
+discovered that his ill-luck continued. It was an experiment,&mdash;a mere
+pilot balloon to Destiny; and when he saw the direction adverse, he did
+not adventure on the grand ascent. It was impossible that a man of Merl's
+temperament and training should not have detected this game. There was not
+a phase of the gambler's mind with which he was not thoroughly familiar.
+</p>
+<p>
+Close intimacies, popularly called friendships, have always their secret
+motive, if we be but skilful enough to detect it. We see people associate
+together of widely different habits, and dispositions the most opposite,
+with nothing in common of station, rank, object, or pursuit. In such cases
+the riddle has always its key, could we only find it.
+</p>
+<p>
+Mr. Martin had been some weeks in Paris with his family, when a brief note
+informed him that Merl had arrived there. He despatched an answer still
+briefer, asking him to breakfast on the following morning; and it was in
+the acceptance of this same invitation we have now seen him.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Who's here just now?&rdquo; said Merl, throwing down his napkin, and pushing
+his chair a little back from the table, while he disposed his short, fat
+legs into what he fancied was a most graceful attitude.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Here? Do you mean in Paris?&rdquo; rejoined Martin, pettishly,&mdash;for he
+never suffered so painfully under this man's intimacy as when his manners
+assumed the pretension of fashion.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yes,&mdash;of course,&mdash;I mean, who's in Paris?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;There are, I believe, about forty-odd thousand of our countrymen and
+countrywomen,&rdquo; said the other, half contemptuously.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Oh, I've no doubt; but my question took narrower bounds. I meant, who of
+<i>our</i> set,&mdash;who of us?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Martin turned round, and fixing his eyes on him, scanned him from head to
+foot with a gaze of such intense insolence as no words could have
+equalled. For a while the Jew bore it admirably; but these efforts, after
+all, are only like the brief intervals a man can live under water, and
+where the initiated beats the inexperienced only by a matter of seconds.
+As Martin continued his stare, Merl's cheek tingled, grew red, and finally
+his whole face and forehead became scarlet.
+</p>
+<p>
+With an instinct like that of a surgeon who feels he has gone deep enough
+with his knife, Martin resumed his walk along the room without uttering a
+word.
+</p>
+<p>
+Merl opened the newspaper, and affected to read; his hand, however,
+trembled, and his eyes wandered listlessly over the columns, and then
+furtively were turned towards Martin as he paced the chamber in silence.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Do you think you can manage that little matter for me, Captain?&rdquo; said he
+at last, and in a voice attuned to its very humblest key.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;What little matter? Those two bills do you mean?&rdquo; said Martin, suddenly.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Not at all. I 'm not the least pressed for cash. I alluded to the Club;
+you promised you 'd put me up, and get one of your popular friends to
+second me.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I remember,&rdquo; said Martin, evidently relieved from a momentary terror.
+&ldquo;Lord Claude Willoughby or Sir Spencer Cavendish would be the men if we
+could find them.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Lord Claude, I perceive, is here; the paper mentions his name in the
+dinner company at the Embassy yesterday.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Do you know him?&rdquo; asked Martin, with an air of innocence that Merl well
+comprehended as insult.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;No. We 've met,&mdash;I think we 've played together; I remember once at
+Baden&mdash;&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Lord Claude Willoughby, sir,&rdquo; said a servant, entering with a card,
+&ldquo;desires to know if you 're at home?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And won't be denied if you are not,&rdquo; said his Lordship, entering at the
+same instant, and saluting Martin with great cordiality.
+</p>
+<p>
+<a name="link2HCH0002" id="link2HCH0002">
+<!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+</p>
+<div style="height: 4em;">
+<br /><br /><br /><br />
+</div>
+<h2>
+CHAPTER II. MR. MERL
+</h2>
+<p>
+The French have invented a slang word for a quality that deserves a more
+recognized epithet, and by the expression <i>chic</i> have designated a
+certain property by which objects assert their undoubted superiority over
+all their counterfeits. Thus, your coat from Nugee's, your carriage from
+Leader's, your bracelet from Storr's, and your bonnet from Madame Palmyre,
+have all their own peculiar <i>chic</i>, or, in other words, possess a
+certain invisible, indescribable essence that stamps them as the best of
+their kind, with an excellence unattainable by imitation, and a charm all
+their own!
+</p>
+<p>
+Of all the products in which this magical property insinuates itself,
+there is not one to which it contributes so much as the man of fashion. He
+is the very type of <i>chic</i>. To describe him you are driven to a
+catalogue of negatives, and you only arrive at anything like a resemblance
+by an enumeration of the different things he is not.
+</p>
+<p>
+The gentleman who presented himself to Martin at the close of our last
+chapter was in many respects a good specimen of his order. He had entered
+the room, believing Martin to be there alone; but no sooner had he
+perceived another, and that other one not known to him, than all the
+buoyant gayety of his manner was suddenly toned down into a quiet
+seriousness; while, taking his friend's arm, he said in a low voice,&mdash;&ldquo;If
+you 're busy, my dear Martin, don't hesitate for a moment about sending me
+off; I had not the slightest suspicion there was any one with you.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Nor is there,&rdquo; said Martin, with a supercilious glance at Merl, who was
+endeavoring in a dozen unsuccessful ways to seem unaware of the new
+arrival's presence.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I want to introduce him to you,&rdquo; said Martin.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;No, no, my dear friend, on no account.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I must; there's no help for it,&rdquo; said Martin, impatiently, while he
+whispered something eagerly in the other's ear.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Well, then, some other day; another time&mdash;&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Here and now, Claude,&rdquo; said Martin, peremptorily; while, without waiting
+for reply, he said aloud, &ldquo;Merl, I wish to present you to Lord Claude
+Willoughby,&mdash;Lord Claude, Mr. Herman Merl.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Merl bowed and smirked and writhed as his Lordship, with a bland smile and
+a very slight bow, acknowledged the presentation.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Had the pleasure of meeting your Lordship at Baden two summers ago,&rdquo; said
+the Jew, with an air meant to be the ideal of fashionable ease.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I was at Baden at the time you mention,&rdquo; said he, coldly.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I used to watch your Lordship's game with great attention; you won
+heavily, I think?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I don't remember, just now,&rdquo; said he, carelessly; not, indeed, that such
+was the fact, or that he desired it should be thought so; he only wished
+to mark his sense of what he deemed an impertinence.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;The man who can win at rouge-et-noir can do anything, in my opinion,&rdquo;
+ said Merl.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;What odds are you taking on Rufus?&rdquo; said Martin to Willoughby, and
+without paying the slightest attention to Merl's remark.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Eleven to one; but I'll not take it again. Hecuba is rising hourly, and
+some say she 'll be the favorite yet.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Is Rufus your Lordship's horse?&rdquo; said the Jew, insinuatingly.
+</p>
+<p>
+Willoughby bowed, and continued to write in his note-book.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And you said the betting was eleven to one on the field, my Lord?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;It ought to be fourteen to one, at least.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I 'll give you fourteen to one, my Lord, just for the sake of a little
+interest in the race.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Willoughby ceased writing, and looked at him steadfastly for a second or
+two. &ldquo;I have not said that the odds were fourteen to one.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I understand you perfectly, my Lord; you merely thought that they would
+be, or, at least, ought to be.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Merl wants a bet with you, in fact,&rdquo; said Martin, as he applied alight to
+his meerschaum; &ldquo;and if you won't have him, I will.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;What shall it be, sir,&rdquo; said Lord Claude, pencil in hand; &ldquo;in ponies&mdash;fifties?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Oh, ponies, my Lord. I only meant it, just as I said, to give me
+something to care for in the race.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Will you put him up at the 'Cercle' after that?&rdquo; whispered Martin, with a
+look of sly malice.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I'll tell you when the match is over,&rdquo; said Willoughby, laughing; &ldquo;but if
+I won't, here 's one that will. That's a neat phaeton of Cavendish's.&rdquo; And
+at the same instant Martin opened the window, and made a signal with his
+handkerchief.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;That's the thing for <i>you</i>, Merl,&rdquo; said Martin, pointing down to a
+splendid pair of dark chestnuts harnessed to a handsome phaeton. &ldquo;It's
+worth five hundred pounds to any fellow starting an equipage to chance
+upon one of Cavendish's. He has not only such consummate taste in carriage
+and harness, but he makes his nags perfection.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;He drives very neatly,&rdquo; said Willoughby.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;What was it he gave for that near-side horse?&mdash;a thousand pounds, I
+think.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Twelve hundred and fifty, and refused a hundred for my bargain,&rdquo; said a
+very diminutive, shrewd-looking man of about five-and-thirty, who entered
+the room with great affectation of juvenility. &ldquo;I bought him for a cab,
+never expecting to 'see his like again,' as Shakspeare says.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And you offered the whole concern yesterday to Damre-mont for fifty
+thousand francs?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;No, Harry, that's a mistake. I said I 'd play him a match at piquet,
+whether he gave seventy thousand for the equipage or nothing. It was he
+that proposed fifty thousand. Mine was a handsome offer, I think.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I call it a most munificent one,&rdquo; said Martin. &ldquo;By the way, you don't
+know my friend here, Mr. Merl, Sir Spencer Cavendish.&rdquo; And the baronet
+stuck his glass in his eye, and scanned the stranger as unscrupulously as
+though he were a hack at Tattersairs.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Where did he dig him up, Claude?&rdquo; whispered he, after a second.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;In India, I fancy; or at the Cape.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;That fellow has something to do with the hell in St. James's Street; I
+'ll swear I know his face.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+<a name="linkimage-0002" id="linkimage-0002">
+<!-- IMG --></a>
+</p>
+<div class="fig" style="width:80%;">
+<img src="images/029.jpg" width="100%" alt="029 " />
+</div>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I 've been telling Merl that he 's in rare luck to find such a turn-out
+as that in the market; that is, if you still are disposed to sell.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Oh, yes, I'll sell it; give him the tiger, boots, cockade, and all,&mdash;everything
+except that Skye terrier. You shall have the whole, sir, for two thousand
+pounds; or, if you prefer it&mdash;&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+A certain warning look from Lord Claude suddenly arrested his words, and
+he added, after a moment,&mdash;&ldquo;But I 'd rather sell it off, and think no
+more of it.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Try the nags; Sir Spencer, I'm sure, will have no objection,&rdquo; said
+Martin. But the baronet's face looked anything but concurrence with the
+proposal.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Take them a turn round the Bois de Boulogne, Merl,&rdquo; said Martin, laughing
+at his friend's distress.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And he may have the turn-out at his own price after the trial,&rdquo; muttered
+Lord Claude, with a quiet smile.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Egad! I should think so,&rdquo; whispered Cavendish; &ldquo;for, assuredly, I should
+never think of being seen in it again.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;If Sir Spencer Cavendish has no objection,&mdash;if he would permit his
+groom to drive me just down the Boulevards and the Rue Rivoli&mdash;&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+The cool stare of the baronet did not permit him to finish. It was really
+a look far more intelligible than common observers might have imagined,
+for it conveyed something like recognition,&mdash;a faint approach to an
+intimation that said, &ldquo;I 'm persuaded that we have met before.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yes, that is the best plan. Let the groom have the ribbons,&rdquo; said Martin,
+laughing with an almost schoolboy enjoyment of a trick. &ldquo;And don't lose
+time, Merl, for Sir Spencer would n't miss his drive in the Champs Elysees
+for any consideration.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Gentlemen, I am your very humble and much obliged servant!&rdquo; said
+Cavendish, as soon as Merl had quitted the room. &ldquo;If that distinguished
+friend of yours should not buy my carriage&mdash;&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;But he will,&rdquo; broke in Martin; &ldquo;he must buy it.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;He ought, I think,&rdquo; said Lord Claude. &ldquo;If I were in his place, there's
+only one condition I 'd stipulate for.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And that is&mdash;&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;That you should drive with him one day&mdash;one would be enough&mdash;from
+the Barrière de l'Étoile to the Louvre.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;This is all very amusing, gentlemen, most entertaining,&rdquo; said Cavendish,
+tartly; &ldquo;but who is he?&mdash;I don''t mean that,&mdash;but what is he?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Martin's banker, I fancy,&rdquo; said Lord Claude.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Does he lend any sum from five hundred to twenty thousand on equitable
+terms on approved personal security?&rdquo; said Cavendish, imitating the terms
+of the advertisements.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;He 'll allow all he wins from you to remain in your hands at sixty per
+cent interest, if he doesn't want cash!&rdquo; said Martin, angrily.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Oh, then, I 'm right. It is my little Moses of St. James's Street. He was
+n't always as flourishing as we see him now. Oh dear, if any man, three
+years back, had told me that this fellow would have proposed seating
+himself in my phaeton for a drive round Paris, I don't believe&mdash;nay,
+I 'm sure&mdash;my head couldn't have stood it.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You know him, then?&rdquo; said Willoughby.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I should think every man about town a dozen years ago must know him.
+There was a kind of brood of these fellows; we used to call them Joseph
+and his brethren. One sold cigars, another vended maraschino; this
+discounted your bills, that took your plate or your horses&mdash;ay, or
+your wardrobe&mdash;on a bill of sale, and handed you over two hundred
+pounds to lose at his brother's hell in the evening. Most useful
+scoundrels they were,&mdash;equally expert on 'Change and in the Coulisses
+of the Opera!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I will say this for him,&rdquo; said Martin, &ldquo;he 's not a hard fellow to deal
+with; he does not drive a bargain ungenerously.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Your hangman is the tenderest fellow in the world,&rdquo; said Cavendish, &ldquo;till
+the final moment. It's only in adjusting the last turn under the ear that
+he shows himself 'ungenerous.'&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Are you deep with him, Harry?&rdquo; said Willoughby, who saw a sudden paleness
+come over Martin's face.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Too deep!&rdquo; said he, with a bitter effort at a laugh,&mdash;&ldquo;a great deal
+too deep.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;We 're all too deep with those fellows,&rdquo; said Cavendish, as, stretching
+out his legs, he contemplated the shape and lustre of his admirably
+fitting boots. &ldquo;One begins by some trumpery loan or so; thence you go on
+to a play transaction or a betting-book with them, and you end&mdash;egad,
+you end by having the fellow at dinner!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Martin wants his friend to be put up for the Club,&rdquo; said Willoughby.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Eh, what? At the 'Cercle,' do you mean?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Why not? Is it so very select?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;No, not exactly that; there are the due proportions of odd reputations,
+half reputations, and no reputations; but remember, Martin, that however
+black they be now, they all began white. When they started, at least, they
+were gentlemen.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I suspect that does not make the case much better.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;No; but it makes <i>ours</i> better, in associating with them. Come,
+come, you know as well as any one that this is impossible, and that if you
+should do it to-day, I should follow the lead to-morrow, and our Club
+become only an asylum for unpayable tailors and unappeasable bootmakers!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You go too fast, sir,&rdquo; exclaimed Martin, in a tone of anger. &ldquo;I never
+intended to pay my debts by a white ball in the ballot-box, nor do I think
+that Mr. Merl would relinquish his claim on some thousand pounds, even for
+the honor of being the club colleague of Sir Spencer Cavendish.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Then I know him better,&rdquo; said the other, tapping his-boot with his cane;
+&ldquo;he would, and he 'd think it a right good bargain besides. From seeing
+these fellows at racecourses and betting-rooms, always cold, calm, and
+impassive, never depressed by ill-luck, as little elated by good, we fall
+into the mistake of esteeming them as a kind of philosophers in life,
+without any of those detracting influences that make you and Willoughby,
+and even myself, sometimes rash and headstrong. It is a mistake, though;
+they have a weakness,&mdash;and a terrible weakness,&mdash;which is, their
+passion to be thought in fashionable society. Yes, they can't resist that!
+All their shrewd calculations, all their artful schemes, dissolve into
+thin air, at the bare prospect of being recognized 'in society.' I have
+studied this flaw in them for many a year back. I 'll not say I haven't
+derived advantage from it.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And yet you 'd refuse him admission into a club,&rdquo; cried Martin.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Certainly. A club is a Democracy, where each man, once elected, is the
+equal of his neighbor. Society is, on the other hand, an absolute
+monarchy, where your rank flows from the fountain of honor,&mdash;the
+host. Take him along with you to her Grace's 'tea,' or my Lady's reception
+this evening, and see if the manner of the mistress of the house does not
+assign him his place, as certainly as if he were marshalled to it by a
+lackey. All his mock tranquillity and assumed ease of manner will not be
+proof against the icy dignity of a grande dame; but in the Club he's as
+good as the best, or he'll think so, which comes to the same thing.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Cavendish is right,&mdash;that is, as much so as he can be in anything,&rdquo;
+ said Willoughby, laughing. &ldquo;Don't put him up, Martin.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Then what am I to do? I have given a sort of a pledge. He is not easily
+put off; he does not lightly relinquish an object.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Take him off the scent. Introduce him at the Embassy. Take him to the
+Courcelles.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;This is intolerable,&rdquo; broke in Martin, angrily. &ldquo;I ask for advice, and
+you reply by a sneer and a mockery.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Not at all. I never was more serious. But here he comes! Look only how
+the fellow lolls back in the phaeton. Just see how contemptuously he looks
+down on the foot-travellers. I'd lay on another hundred for that stare;
+for, assuredly, he has already made the purchase in his own mind.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Well, Merl, what do you say to Sir Spencer's taste in horseflesh?&rdquo; said
+Martin, as he entered.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;They 're nice hacks; very smart.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Nice hacks!&rdquo; broke in Cavendish, &ldquo;why, sir, they're both thoroughbred;
+the near horse is by Tiger out of a Crescent mare, and the off one won the
+Acton steeple-chase. When you said hacks, therefore, you made a cruel
+blunder.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Well, it's what a friend of mine called them just now,&rdquo; said Merl; &ldquo;and
+remarked, moreover, that the large horse had been slightly fired on the&mdash;the&mdash;I
+forget the name he gave it.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You probably remember your friend's name better,&rdquo; said Cavendish,
+sneeringly. &ldquo;Who was he, pray?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Massingbred,&mdash;we call him Jack Massingbred; he's the Member for
+somewhere in Ireland.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Poor Jack!&rdquo; muttered Cavendish, &ldquo;how hard up he must be!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;But you like the equipage, Merl?&rdquo; said Martin, who had a secret suspicion
+that it was now Cavendish's turn for a little humiliation.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Well, it's neat. The buggy&mdash;&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;The buggy! By Jove, sir, you have a precious choice of epithets! Please
+to let me inform you that full-blooded horses are not called hacks, nor
+one of Leader's park-phaetons is not styled a buggy.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Martin threw himself into a chair, and after a moment's struggle, burst
+out into a fit of laughter.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I think we may make a deal after all, Sir Spencer,&rdquo; said Merl, who
+accepted the baronet's correction with admirable self-control.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;No, sir; perfectly impossible; take my word for it, any transaction would
+be difficult between us. Good-bye, Martin; adieu, Claude.&rdquo; And with this
+brief leave-taking the peppery Sir Spencer left the room, more flushed and
+fussy than he had entered it.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;If you knew Sir Spencer Cavendish as long as we have known him, Mr.
+Merl,&rdquo; said Lord Claude, in his blandest of voices, &ldquo;you'd not be
+surprised at this little display of warmth. It is the only weakness in a
+very excellent fellow.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I 'm hot, too, my Lord,&rdquo; said Merl, with the very slightest accentuation
+of the &ldquo;initial H,&rdquo; &ldquo;and he was right in saying that dealings would be
+difficult between us.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You mentioned Massingbred awhile ago, Merl. Why not ask him to second you
+at the Club?&rdquo; said Martin, rousing himself suddenly from a train of
+thought.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Well, somehow, I thought that he and you did n't exactly pull together;
+that there was an election contest,&mdash;a kind of a squabble.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I 'm sure that <i>he</i> never gave you any reason to suspect a coldness
+between us; I know that <i>I</i> never did,&rdquo; said Martin, calmly. &ldquo;We are
+but slightly acquainted, it is true, but I should be surprised to learn
+that there was any ill-feeling between us.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;One's opponent at the hustings is pretty much the same thing as one's
+adversary at a game,&mdash;he is against you to-day, and may be your
+partner to-morrow; so that, putting even better motives aside, it were bad
+policy to treat him as an implacable enemy,&rdquo; said Lord Claude, with his
+accustomed suavity. &ldquo;Besides, Mr. Merl, you know the crafty maxim of the
+French moralist, 'Always treat your enemies as though one day they were to
+become your friends.'&rdquo; And with this commonplace, uttered in a tone and
+with a manner that gave it all the semblance of a piece of special advice,
+his Lordship took his hat, and, squeezing Martin's hand, moved towards the
+door.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Come in here for a moment,&rdquo; said Martin, pushing open the door into an
+adjoining dressing-room, and closing it carefully after them. &ldquo;So much for
+wanting to do a good-natured thing,&rdquo; cried he, peevishly. &ldquo;I thought to
+help Cavendish to get rid of those 'screws,' and the return he makes me is
+to outrage this man.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;What are your dealings with him?&rdquo; asked Willoughby» anxiously.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Play matters, play debts, loans, securities, post-obits, and every other
+blessed contrivance you can think of to swamp a man's present fortune and
+future prospects. I don't think he is a bad fellow; I mean, I don't
+suspect he 'd press heavily upon me, with any fair treatment on my part.
+My impression, in short, is that he'd forgive my not meeting his bill, but
+he 'd never get over my not inviting him to a dinner!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Well,&rdquo; said Willoughby, encouragingly, &ldquo;we live in admirable times for
+such practices. There used to be a vulgar prejudice in favor of men that
+one knew, and names that the world was familiar with. It is gone by
+entirely; and if you only present your friend&mdash;don't wince at the
+title&mdash;your friend, I say&mdash;as the rich Mr. Merl, the man who
+owns shares in mines, canals, and collieries, whose speculations count by
+tens of thousands, and whose credit rises to millions, you'll never be
+called on to apologize for his parts of speech, or make excuse for his
+solecisms in good breeding.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Will you put up his name, then, at the Club?&rdquo; asked Martin, eagerly. &ldquo;It
+would not do for <i>me</i> to do so.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;To be sure I will, and Massingbred shall be his seconder.&rdquo; And with this
+cheering pledge Lord Claude bade him good-bye, and left him free to return
+to Mr. Merl in the drawing-room. That gentleman had, however, already
+departed, to the no small astonishment of Martin, who now threw himself
+lazily down on a sofa, to ponder over his difficulties and weave all
+manner of impracticable schemes to meet them.
+</p>
+<p>
+They were, indeed, very considerable embarrassments. He had raised heavy
+sums at most exorbitant rates, and obtained money&mdash;for the play-table&mdash;by
+pledging valuable reversions of various kinds, for Merl somehow was the
+easiest of all people to deal with; one might have fancied that he lent
+his money only to afford himself an occasion of sympathy with the
+borrower, just as he professed that he merely betted &ldquo;to have a little
+interest in the race.&rdquo; Whatever Martin, then, suggested in the way of
+security never came amiss; whether it were a farm, a mill, a quarry, or a
+lead mine, he accepted it at once, and, as Martin deemed, without the
+slightest knowledge or investigation, little suspecting that there was not
+a detail of his estate, nor a resource of his property, with which the
+wily Jew was not more familiar than himself. In fact, Mr. Merl was an
+astonishing instance of knowledge on every subject by which money was to
+be made, and he no more advanced loans upon an encumbered estate than he
+backed the wrong horse or bid for a copied picture. There is a species of
+practical information excessively difficult to describe, which is not
+connoisseurship, but which supplies the place of that quality, enabling
+him who possesses it to estimate the value of an object, without any
+admixture of those weakening prejudices which beset your mere man of
+taste. Now, Mr. Merl had no caprices about the color of the horse he
+backed, no more than for the winning seat at cards; he could not be warped
+from his true interests by any passing whim, and whether he cheapened a
+Correggio or discounted a bill, he was the same calm, dispassionate
+calculator of the profit to come of the transaction.
+</p>
+<p>
+Latterly, however, he had thrown out a hint to Martin that he was curious
+to see some of that property on which he had made such large advances; and
+this wish&mdash;which, according to the frame of mind he happened to be in
+at the moment, struck Martin as a mere caprice or a direct menace&mdash;was
+now the object of his gloomy reveries. We have not tracked his steps
+through the tortuous windings of his moneyed difficulties; it is a chapter
+in life wherein there is wonderfully little new to record; the Jew-lender
+and his associates, the renewed bill and the sixty per cent, the
+non-restored acceptances flitting about the world, sold and resold as
+damaged articles, but always in the end falling into the hands of a &ldquo;most
+respectable party,&rdquo; and proceeded on as a true debt; then, the compromises
+for time, for silence, for secrecy,&mdash;since these transactions are
+rarely, if ever, devoid of some unhappy incident that would not bear
+publicity; and there are invariably little notes beginning &ldquo;Dear Moses,&rdquo;
+ which would argue most ill-chosen intimacies. These are all old stories,
+and the &ldquo;Times&rdquo; and the &ldquo;Chronicle&rdquo; are full of them. There is a terrible
+sameness about them, too. The dupe and the villain are stock characters
+that never change, and the incidents are precisely alike in every case.
+Humble folk, who are too low for fashionable follies, wonder how the
+self-same artifices have always the same success, and cannot conceal their
+astonishment at the innocence of our young men about town; and yet the
+mystery is easily solved. The dupe is, in these cases, just as
+unprincipled as his betrayer, and their negotiation is simply a game of
+skill, in which Israel is not always the winner.
+</p>
+<p>
+If we have not followed Martin's steps through these dreary labyrinths, it
+is because the path is a worn one; for the same reason, too, we decline to
+keep him company in his ponderings over them. All that his troubles had
+taught him was an humble imitation of the tricky natures of those he dealt
+with; so that he plotted and schemed and contrived, till his very head
+grew weary with the labor. And so we leave him.
+</p>
+<p>
+<a name="link2HCH0003" id="link2HCH0003">
+<!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+</p>
+<div style="height: 4em;">
+<br /><br /><br /><br />
+</div>
+<h2>
+CHAPTER III. A YOUNG DUCHESS AND AN OLD FRIEND
+</h2>
+<p>
+Like a vast number of people who have passed years in retirement, Lady
+Dorothea was marvellously disappointed with &ldquo;the world&rdquo; when she went back
+to it. It was not at all the kind of thing she remembered, or at least
+fancied it to be. There were not the old gradations of class strictly
+defined; there was not the old veneration for rank and station; &ldquo;society&rdquo;
+ was invaded by hosts of unknown people, &ldquo;names one had never heard of.&rdquo;
+ The great stars of fashion of her own day had long since set, and the new
+celebrities had never as much as heard of her. The great houses of the
+Faubourg were there, it is true; but with reduced households and dimly
+lighted salons, they were but sorry representatives of the splendor her
+memory had invested them with.
+</p>
+<p>
+Now the Martins were installed in one of the finest apartments of the
+finest quarter in Paris. They were people of unquestionable station, they
+had ample means, lacked for none of the advantages which the world demands
+from those who seek its favors; and yet there they were, just as unknown,
+unvisited, and unsought after, as if they were the Joneses or the Smiths,
+&ldquo;out&rdquo; for a month's pleasuring on the Continent.
+</p>
+<p>
+A solitary invitation to the Embassy to dinner was not followed by any
+other attention; and so they drove along the Boulevards and through the
+Bois de Boulogne, and saw some thousands of gay, bright-costumed people,
+all eager for pleasure, all hurrying on to some scheme of amusement or
+enjoyment, while they returned moodily to their handsome quarter, as much
+excluded from all participation in what went on around them as though they
+were natives of Hayti.
+</p>
+<p>
+Martin sauntered down to the reading-room, hoping vainly to fall in with
+some one he knew. He lounged listlessly along the bright streets, till
+their very glare addled him; he stared at the thousand new inventions of
+luxury and ease the world had discovered since he had last seen it, and
+then he plodded gloomily homeward, to dine and listen to her Ladyship's
+discontented criticism upon the tiresome place and the odious people who
+filled it. Paris was, indeed, a deception and a snare to them! So far from
+finding it cheap, the expense of living&mdash;as they lived&mdash;was
+considerably greater than at London. It was a city abounding in luxuries,
+but all costly. The details which are in England reserved for days of
+parade and display, were here daily habits, and these were now to be
+indulged in with all the gloom of solitude and isolation.
+</p>
+<p>
+What wonder, then, if her Ladyship's temper was ruffled, and her
+equanimity unbalanced by such disappointments? In vain she perused the
+list of arrivals to find out some distinguished acquaintance; in vain she
+interrogated her son as to what was going on, and who were there. The
+Captain only frequented the club, and could best chronicle the names that
+were great at whist or illustrious at billiards.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;It surely cannot be the season here,&rdquo; cried she, one morning, peevishly,
+&ldquo;for really there isn't a single person one has ever heard of at Paris.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And yet this is a strong catalogue,&rdquo; cried the Captain, with a malicious
+twinkle in his eye. &ldquo;Here are two columns of somebodies, who were present
+at Madame de Luygnes' last night.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You can always fill salons, if that be all,&rdquo; said she, angrily.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yes, but not with Tour du Pins, Tavannes, Rochefoucaulds, Howards of
+Maiden, and Greys of Allington, besides such folk as Pahlen, Lichtenstein,
+Colonna, and so forth.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;How is it then, that one never sees them?&rdquo; cried she, more eagerly.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Say, rather, how is it one doesn't know them,&rdquo; cried Martin, &ldquo;for here we
+are seven weeks, and, except to that gorgeous fellow in the cocked hat at
+the porter's lodge, I have never exchanged a salute with a human being.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;There are just three houses, they say, in all Paris, to one or other of
+which one must be presented,&rdquo; said the Captain&mdash;&ldquo;Madame de Luygnes,
+the Duchesse de Cour-celles, and Madame de Mirecourt.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;That Madame de Luygnes was your old mistress, was she not, Miss
+Henderson?&rdquo; asked Lady Dorothea, haughtily.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yes, my Lady,&rdquo; was the calm reply.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And who are these other people?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;The Duc de Mirecourt was married to 'Mademoiselle,' the daughter of the
+Duchesse de Luygnes.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Have you heard or seen anything of them since you came here?&rdquo; asked her
+Ladyship.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;No, my Lady, except a hurried salute yesterday from a carriage as we
+drove in. I just caught sight of the Duchesse as she waved her hand to
+me.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Oh, I saw it. I returned the salutation, never suspecting it was meant
+for <i>you</i>. And she was your companion&mdash;your dear friend&mdash;long
+ago?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yes, my Lady,&rdquo; said Kate, bending down over her work, but showing in the
+crimson flush that spread over her neck how the speech had touched her.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And you used to correspond, I think?&rdquo; continued her Ladyship.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;We did so, my Lady.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And she dropped it, of course, when she married,&mdash;she had other
+things to think of?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I 'm afraid, my Lady, the lapse was on <i>my</i> side,&rdquo; said Kate,
+scarcely repressing a smile at her own hardihood.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;<i>Your</i> side! Do you mean to say that you so far forgot what was due
+to the station of the Duchesse de Mirecourt, that you left her letter
+unreplied to?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Not exactly, my Lady.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Then, pray, what do you mean?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Kate paused for a second or two, and then, in a very calm and collected
+voice, replied,&mdash;&ldquo;I told the Duchesse, in my last letter, that I
+should write no more,&mdash;that my life was thrown in a wild,
+unfrequented region, where no incident broke the monotony, and that were I
+to continue our correspondence, my letters must degenerate into a mere
+selfish record of my own sentiments, as unprofitable to read as ungraceful
+to write; and so I said good-bye&mdash;or <i>au revoir</i>, at least&mdash;till
+other scenes might suggest other thoughts.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;A most complimentary character of our Land of the West, certainly! I
+really was not aware before that Cro' Martin was regarded as an
+'oubliette.'&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Kate made no answer,&mdash;a silence which seemed rather to irritate than
+appease her Ladyship.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I hope you included the family in your dreary picture. I trust it was not
+a mere piece of what artists call still life, Miss Henderson?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;No, my Lady,&rdquo; said she, with a deep sigh; but the tone and manner of the
+rejoinder were anything but apologetic.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Now I call that as well done as anything one sees in Hyde Park,&rdquo; cried
+the Captain, directing attention as he spoke to a very handsome chariot
+which had just driven up to the door. &ldquo;They're inquiring for somebody
+here,&rdquo; continued he, as he watched the Chasseur as he came and went from
+the carriage to the house.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;There's a Grandee of Spain, or something of that kind, lives on the
+fourth floor, I think,&rdquo; said Martin, dryly.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;The Duchesse de Mirecourt, my Lady,&rdquo; said a servant, entering, &ldquo;begs to
+know if your Ladyship will receive her?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Kate started at the words, and her color rose till her cheeks were
+crimsoned.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;A visit, I suspect, rather for you than me, Miss Henderson,&rdquo; said Lady
+Dorothea, in a half-whisper; and then turning to her servant, nodded her
+acquiescence.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I 'm off,&rdquo; said Martin, rising suddenly to make his escape.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And I too,&rdquo; said the Captain, as he made his exit by an opposite door.
+</p>
+<p>
+The folding-doors of the apartment were at the same moment thrown wide,
+and the Duchess entered. Very young,&mdash;almost girlish, indeed,&mdash;she
+combined in her appearance the charming freshness of youth with that
+perfection of gracefulness which attaches to the higher classes of French
+society, and although handsome, more striking from the fascination of
+manner than for any traits of beauty. Courtesying slightly, but
+deferentially, to Lady Dorothea, she apologized for her intrusion by the
+circumstance of having, the day before, caught sight of her &ldquo;dear
+governess and dear friend&mdash;&rdquo; And as she reached thus far, the
+deep-drawn breathing of another attracted her. She turned and saw Kate,
+who, pale as a statue, stood leaning on a chair. In an instant she was in
+her arms, exclaiming, in a rapture of delight, &ldquo;My dear, dear Kate,&mdash;my
+more than sister! You would forgive me, madam,&rdquo; said she, addressing Lady
+Dorothea, &ldquo;if you but knew what we were to each other. Is it not so,
+Kate?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+A faint tremulous motion of the lips&mdash;all colorless as they were&mdash;was
+the only reply to the speech; but the young Frenchwoman needed none, but
+turning to her Ladyship, poured forth with native volubility a story of
+their friendship, the graceful language in which she uttered it lending
+those choice phrases which never seem exaggerations of sentiment till they
+be translated into other tongues. Mingling her praises with half
+reproaches, she drew a picture of Kate so flattering that Lady Dorothea
+could not help a sense of shrinking terror that one should speak in such
+terms of the governess.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And now, dearest,&rdquo; added she, turning to Kate, &ldquo;are we to see a great
+deal of each other? When can you come to me? Pardon me, madam, this
+question should be addressed to you.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Miss Henderson is my secretary, Madame la Duchesse; she is also my
+companion,&rdquo; said Lady Dorothea, haughtily; &ldquo;but I can acknowledge claims
+which take date before my own. She shall be always at liberty when you
+wish for her.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;How kind, how good of you!&rdquo; cried the Duchess. &ldquo;I could have been certain
+of that. I knew that my dear Kate must be loved by all around her. We have
+a little <i>fête</i> on Wednesday at St. Germain. May I bespeak her for
+that day?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Her Ladyship suffers her generosity to trench upon her too far,&rdquo; said
+Kate, in a low voice. &ldquo;I am in a manner necessary to her,&mdash;that is,
+my absence would be inconvenient.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;But her Ladyship will doubtless be in the world herself that evening.
+There is a ball at the Duchesse de Sargance, and the Austrian Minister has
+something,&rdquo; rattled on the lively Duchess. &ldquo;Paris is so gay just now, so
+full of pleasant people, and all so eager for enjoyment. Don't you find it
+so, my Lady?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I go but little into society!&rdquo; said Lady Dorothea, stiffly.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;How strange! and I&mdash;I cannot live without it. Even when we go to our
+Château at Roche-Mire I carry away with me all my friends who will consent
+to come. We try to imitate that delightful life of your country houses,
+and make up that great family party which is the <i>beau idéal</i> of
+social enjoyment.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And you like a country life, then?&rdquo; asked her Ladyship.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;To be sure. I love the excursions on horseback, the forest drives, the
+evening walks in the trellised vines, the parties one makes to see a
+thousand things one never looks at afterwards; the little dinners on the
+grass, with all their disasters, and the moonlight drive homewards, half
+joyous, half romantic,&mdash;not to speak of that charming frankness by
+which every one makes confession of his besetting weakness, and each has
+some little secret episode of his own life to tell the others. All but
+Kate here,&rdquo; cried she, laughingly, &ldquo;who never revealed anything.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Madame la Duchesse will, I 'm sure, excuse my absence; she has doubtless
+many things she would like to say to her friend alone,&rdquo; said Lady
+Dorothea, rising and courtesying formally; and the young Duchess returned
+the salutation with equal courtesy and respect.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;My dear, dear Kate,&rdquo; cried she, throwing her arms around her as the door
+closed after her Ladyship, &ldquo;how I have longed for this moment, to tell you
+ten thousand things about myself and hear from you as many more! And
+first, dearest, are you happy? for you look more serious, more thoughtful
+than you used,&mdash;and paler, too.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Am I so?&rdquo; asked Kate, faintly.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yes. When you're not speaking, your brows grow stern and your lips
+compressed. Your features have not that dear repose, as Giorgevo used to
+call it. Poor fellow! how much in love he was, and you 've never asked for
+him!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I never thought of him!&rdquo; said she, with a smile.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Nor of Florian, Kate!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Nor even of him.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+<a name="linkimage-0003" id="linkimage-0003">
+<!-- IMG --></a>
+</p>
+<div class="fig" style="width:80%;">
+<img src="images/044.jpg" width="100%" alt="044 " />
+</div>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And yet that poor fellow was really in love,&mdash;nay, don't laugh,
+Kate, I know it. He gave up his career, everything he had in life,&mdash;he
+was a Secretary of Legation, with good prospects,&mdash;all to win your
+favor, becoming a 'Carbonaro,' or a 'Montagnard,' or something or other
+that swears to annihilate all kings and extirpate monarchy.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And after that?&rdquo; asked Kate, with more of interest.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;After that, ma chère, they sent him to the galleys; I forget exactly
+where, but I think it was in Sicily. And then there was that Hungarian
+Count Nemescz, that wanted to kill somebody who picked up your bouquet out
+of the Grand Canal at Venice.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And whom, strangely enough, I met and made acquaintance with in Ireland.
+His name is Massingbred.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Not the celebrity, surely,&mdash;the young politician who made such a
+sensation by a first speech in Parliament t'other day? He's all the rage
+here. Could it be him?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Possibly enough,&rdquo; said she, carelessly. &ldquo;He had very good abilities, and
+knew it.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;He comes to us occasionally, but I scarcely have any acquaintance with
+him. But this is not telling me of yourself, child. Who and what are these
+people you are living with? Do they value my dear Kate as they ought? Are
+they worthy of having her amongst them?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I 'm afraid not,&rdquo; said Kate, with a smile. &ldquo;They do not seem at all
+impressed with the blessing they enjoy, and only treat me as one of
+themselves.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;But, seriously, child, are they as kind as they should be? That old lady
+is, to my thinking, as austere as an Archduchess.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I like her,&rdquo; said Kate; &ldquo;that is, I like her cold, reserved manner,
+unbending as it is, which only demands the quiet duties of servitude, and
+neither asks nor wishes for affection. She admits me to no friendship, but
+she exacts no attachment.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And you like this?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I did not say I should like it from <i>you!</i> said Kate, pressing the
+hand she held fervently to her lips, while her pale cheek grew faintly
+red.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And you go into the world with her,&mdash;at least <i>her</i> world?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;She has none here. Too haughty for second-rate society, and unknown to
+those who form the first class at Paris, she never goes out.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;But she would&mdash;she would like to do so?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I 'm sure she would.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Then mamma shall visit her. You know she is everything here; her house is
+the rendezvous of all the distinguished people, and, once seen in her
+salons, my Lady&mdash;how do you call her?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Lady Dorothea Martin.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I can't repeat it&mdash;but no matter&mdash;her Ladyship shall not want
+for attentions. Perhaps she would condescend to come to me on Wednesday?
+Dare I venture to ask her?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Kate hesitated, and the Duchess quickly rejoined,&mdash;&ldquo;No, dearest, you
+are quite right; it would be hazardous, too abrupt, too unceremonious. You
+will, however, be with us; and I long to present you to all my friends,
+and show them one to whom I owe so much, and ought to be indebted to for
+far more. I 'll send for you early, that we may have a long morning
+together.&rdquo; And so saying, she arose to take leave.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I feel as though I 'll scarcely believe I had seen you when you have
+gone,&rdquo; said Kate, earnestly. &ldquo;I'll fancy it all a dream&mdash;or rather,
+that my life since we met has been one, and that we had never parted.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Were we not very happy then, Kate?&rdquo; said the Duchess, with a half-sigh;
+&ldquo;happier, perhaps, than we may ever be again.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;<i>You</i> must not say so, at all events,&rdquo; said Kate, once more
+embracing her. And they parted.
+</p>
+<p>
+Kate arose and watched the splendid equipage as it drove away, and then
+slowly returned to her place at the work-table. She did not, however,
+resume her embroidery, but sat deep in reflection, with her hands clasped
+before her.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Poor fellow!&rdquo; said she, at length, &ldquo;a galley-slave, and Massingbred a
+celebrity! So much for honesty and truth in this good world of ours! Can
+it always go on thus? That is the question I'm curious to hear solved. A
+little time may, perhaps, reveal it!&rdquo; So saying to herself, she leaned her
+head upon her hand, deep lost in thought.
+</p>
+<p>
+<a name="link2HCH0004" id="link2HCH0004">
+<!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+</p>
+<div style="height: 4em;">
+<br /><br /><br /><br />
+</div>
+<h2>
+CHAPTER IV. A VERY GREAT FAVOR
+</h2>
+<p>
+Amongst the embarrassments of story-telling there is one which, to be
+appreciated, must have been experienced; it is, however, sufficiently
+intelligible to claim sympathy even by indicating,&mdash;we mean the
+difficulty a narrator has in the choice of those incidents by which his
+tale is to be marked out, and the characters who fill it adequately
+depicted.
+</p>
+<p>
+It is quite clear that a great number of events must occur in the story of
+every life of which no record can be made; some seem too trivial, some too
+irrelevant for mention, and yet, when we come to reflect upon real life
+itself, how many times do we discover that what appeared to be but the
+veriest trifles were the mainsprings of an entire existence, and the
+incidents which we deemed irrelevant were the hidden links that connected
+a whole chain of events? How easy, then, to err in the selection! This
+difficulty presents itself strongly to us at present; a vast number of
+circumstances rise before us from which we must refrain, lest they should
+appear to indicate a road we are not about to travel; and, at the same
+time, we feel the want of those very events to reconcile what may well
+seem contradictions in our history.
+</p>
+<p>
+It not unfrequently happens that an apology is just as tiresome as the
+offence it should excuse; and so, without further explanation, we proceed.
+Lady Dorothea soon found herself as much sought after as she had
+previously been neglected. The Duchesse de Luygnes was the great leader of
+fashion at Paris; and the marked attentions by which she distinguished her
+Ladyship at once established her position. Of course her unquestionable
+claim to station, and her own high connections rendered the task less
+difficult; while it imparted to Lady Dorothea's own manner and bearing
+that degree of dignity and calm which never accompany an insecure
+elevation.
+</p>
+<p>
+With such refinement of delicacy, such exquisite tact, was every step
+managed that her Ladyship was left to suppose every attention she received
+sprung out of her own undeniable right to them, and to the grace and charm
+of a manner which really had had its share of success some five-and-thirty
+years before. The gloomy isolation she had passed through gave a stronger
+contrast to the enjoyment of her present life; and for the first time for
+years she regained some of that courtly elegance of address which in her
+youth had pre-eminently distinguished her. The change had worked favorably
+in her temper also; and Martin perceived, with astonishment, that she
+neither made injurious comparisons between the present and the past, nor
+deemed the age they lived in one of insufferable vulgarity. It would
+scarcely have been possible for Lady Dorothea not to connect her altered
+position with the friendship between Kate Henderson and her former pupil;
+she knew it, and she felt it. All her self-esteem could not get over this
+consciousness; but it was a humiliation reserved for her own heart, since
+nothing in Kate's manner indicated even a suspicion of the fact. On the
+contrary, never had she shown herself more submissive and dependent. The
+duties of her office, multiplied as they were tenfold by her Ladyship's
+engagements, were all punctually acquitted, and with a degree of tact and
+cleverness that obtained from Lady Dorothea the credit of a charming
+note-writer. Nor was she indifferent to the effect Kate produced in
+society, where her beauty and fascination had already made a deep
+impression.
+</p>
+<p>
+Reserving a peculiar deference and respect for all her intercourse with
+Lady Dorothea, Kate Henderson assumed to the world at large the ease and
+dignity of one whose station was the equal of any. There was nothing in
+her air or bearing that denoted the dependant; there was rather a dash of
+haughty superiority, which did not scruple to avow itself and bid defiance
+to any bold enough to question its claims. Even this was a secret flattery
+to Lady Dorothea's heart; and she saw with satisfaction the success of
+that imperious tone which to herself was subdued to actual humility.
+</p>
+<p>
+Lady Dorothea Martin and her beautiful companion were now celebrities at
+Paris; and, assuredly, no city of the world knows how to shower more
+fascinations on those it favors. Life became to them a round of brilliant
+festivities. They received invitations from every quarter, and everywhere
+were met with that graceful welcome so sure to greet those whose airs and
+whose dress are the ornaments of a salon. They &ldquo;received&rdquo; at home, too;
+and her Ladyship's Saturdays were about the most exclusive of all Parisian
+receptions. Tacitly, at least, the whole management and direction of these
+&ldquo;Evenings&rdquo; was committed to Kate. Martin strictly abstained from a society
+in every way distasteful to him. The Captain had come to care for nothing
+but play, so that the Club was his only haunt; and it was the rarest of
+all events to see him pass even a few minutes in the drawing-room. He had,
+besides, that degree of shrinking dislike to Kate Henderson which a weak
+man very often experiences towards a clever and accomplished girl. When he
+first joined his family at Paris, he was struck by her great beauty and
+the elegance of a manner that might have dignified any station, and he
+fell partly in love,&mdash;that is to say, as much in love as a captain of
+hussars could permit himself to feel for a governess. He condescended to
+make small advances, show her petty attentions, and even distinguish her
+by that flattering stare, with his glass to his eye, which he had known to
+be what the poet calls &ldquo;blush-compelling&rdquo; in many a fair cheek in
+provincial circles.
+</p>
+<p>
+To his marvellous discomfiture, however, these measures were not followed
+by any success. She never as much as seemed aware of them, and treated him
+with the same polite indifference, as though he had been neither a hussar
+nor a lady-killer. Of course he interpreted this as a piece of consummate
+cunning; he had no other measure for her capacity than would have been
+suited to his own. She was a deep one, evidently bent on drawing him on,
+and entangling him in some stupid declaration, and so he grew cautious.
+But, somehow, his reserve provoked as little as his boldness. She did not
+change in the least; she treated him with a quiet, easy sort of no-notice,&mdash;the
+most offensive thing possible to one bent upon being impressive, and
+firmly persuaded that he need only wish, to be the conqueror.
+</p>
+<p>
+Self-worship was too strong in him to suffer a single doubt as to his own
+capacity for success, and therefore the only solution to the mystery of
+her manner was its being an artful scheme, which time and a little
+watching would surely explain. Time went on, and yet he grew none the
+wiser; Kate continued the same impassive creature as at first. She never
+sought,&mdash;never avoided him. She met him without constraint,&mdash;without
+pleasure, too. They never became intimate, while there was no distance in
+their intercourse; till at last, wounded in his self-esteem, he began to
+feel that discomfort in her presence which only waits for the slightest
+provocation to become actual dislike.
+</p>
+<p>
+With that peevishness that belongs to small minds, he would have been glad
+to have discovered some good ground for hating her; and a dozen times a
+day did he fancy that he had &ldquo;hit the blot,&rdquo; but somehow he always
+detected his mistake erelong; and thus did he live on in that tantalizing
+state of uncertainty and indecision which combines about as much suffering
+as men of his stamp are capable of feeling.
+</p>
+<p>
+If Lady Dorothea never suspected the degree of influence Kate silently
+exercised over her, the Captain saw it palpably, and tried to nourish the
+knowledge into a ground for dislike. But somehow she would no more suffer
+herself to be hated than to be loved, and invariably baffled all his
+attempts to &ldquo;get up&rdquo; an indignation against her. By numberless devices&mdash;too
+slight, too evanescent to be called regular coquetry&mdash;she understood
+how to conciliate him, even in his roughest moods, while she had only to
+make the very least possible display of her attractions to fascinate him
+in his happier moments. The gallant hussar was not much given to
+self-examination. It was one of the last positions he would have selected;
+and yet he had confessed to his own heart that, though he 'd not like to
+marry her himself, he 'd be sorely tempted to shoot any man who made her
+his wife.
+</p>
+<p>
+Lady Dorothea and Kate Henderson were seated one morning engaged in the
+very important task of revising the invitation-book,&mdash;weeding out the
+names of departed acquaintance, and canvassing the claims of those who
+should succeed them. The rigid criticism as to eligibility showed how
+great an honor was the card for her Ladyship's &ldquo;Tea.&rdquo; While they were thus
+occupied, Captain Martin entered the room with an open letter in his hand,
+his air and manner indicating flurry, if not actual agitation.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Sorry to interrupt a privy council,&rdquo; said he, &ldquo;but I've come to ask a
+favor,&mdash;don't look frightened; it's not for a woman, my Lady,&mdash;but
+I want a card for your next Saturday, for a male friend of mine.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Kate has just been telling me that 'our men' are too numerous.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Impossible. Miss Henderson knows better than any one that the success of
+these things depends on having a host of men,&mdash;all ages, all classes,
+all sorts of people,&rdquo; said he, indolently.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I think we have complied with your theory,&rdquo; said she, pointing to the
+book before her. &ldquo;If our ladies are chosen for their real qualities, the
+men have been accepted with a most generous forbearance.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;One more, then, will not damage the mixture.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Of course, Captain Martin, it is quite sufficient that he is a friend of
+yours&mdash;that you wish it&mdash;&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;But it is no such thing, Miss Henderson,&rdquo; broke in Lady Dorothea. &ldquo;We
+have already given deep umbrage in many quarters&mdash;very high quarters,
+too&mdash;by refusals; and a single mistake would be fatal to us.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;But why need this be a mistake?&rdquo; cried Captain Martin, peevishly. &ldquo;The
+man is an acquaintance of mine,&mdash;a friend, if you like to call him
+so.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And who is he?&rdquo; asked my Lady, with all the solemnity of a judge.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;A person I met at the Cape. We travelled home together&mdash;saw a great
+deal of each other&mdash;in fact&mdash;I know him as intimately as I do&mdash;any
+officer in my regiment,&rdquo; said the Captain, blundering and faltering at
+every second word.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Oh! then he is one of your own corps?&rdquo; said her Ladyship.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I never said so,&rdquo; broke he in. &ldquo;If he had been, I don't fancy I should
+need to employ much solicitation in his behalf; the&mdash;they are not
+usually treated in that fashion!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I trust we should know how to recognize their merits,&rdquo; said Kate, with a
+look which sorely puzzled him whether it meant conciliation or raillery.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And his name?&rdquo; asked my Lady. &ldquo;His name ought to be decisive, without
+anything more!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;He's quite a stranger here, knows nobody, so that you incur no risk as to
+any impertinent inquiries, and when he leaves this, to-morrow or next day,
+you 'll never see him again.&rdquo; This the Captain said with all the confusion
+of an inexpert man in a weak cause.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Shall I address his card, or will you take it yourself, Captain Martin?&rdquo;
+ said Kate, in a low voice.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Write Merl,&mdash;Mr. Herman Merl,&rdquo; said he, dropping his own voice to
+the same tone.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Merl!&rdquo; exclaimed Lady Dorothea, whose quick hearing detected the words.
+&ldquo;Why, where on earth could you have made acquaintance with a man called
+Merl?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I have told you already where and how we met; and if it be any
+satisfaction to you to know that I am under considerable obligations&mdash;heavy
+obligations&mdash;to this same gentleman, perhaps it might incline you to
+show him some mark of attention.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You could have him to dinner at your Club,&mdash;you might even bring him
+here, when we're alone, Harry; but really, to receive him at one of our
+Evenings! You know how curious people are, what questions they will ask:&mdash;'Who
+is that queer-looking man?'&mdash;I 'm certain he is so.&mdash;'Is he
+English?'&mdash;'Who does he belong to?'&mdash;'Does he know any one?'&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Let them ask me, then,&rdquo; said Martin, &ldquo;and I may, perhaps, be able to
+satisfy them.&rdquo; At the same moment he took up from the table the card which
+Kate had just written, giving her a look of grateful recognition as he did
+so.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You 've done this at your own peril, Miss Henderson,&rdquo; said Lady Dorothea,
+half upbraidingly.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;At <i>mine</i>, be it rather,&rdquo; said the Captain, sternly.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I accept my share of it willingly,&rdquo; said Kate, with a glance which
+brought a deep flush over the hussar's cheek, and sent through him a
+strange thrill of pleasure.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Then I am to suppose we shall be honored with your own presence on this
+occasion,&mdash;rare favor that it is,&rdquo; said her Ladyship.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yes, I 'll look in. I promised Merl to present him.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Oh, you need n't!&rdquo; said she, peevishly. &ldquo;Half the men merely make their
+bow when they meet me, and neither expect me to remember who they are or
+to notice them. I may leave your distinguished friend in the same
+category.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+A quick glance from Kate&mdash;fleeting, but full of meaning&mdash;stopped
+Martin as he was about to make a hasty reply. And, crumpling up the card
+with suppressed passion, he turned and left the room.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Don't put that odious name on our list, Miss Henderson,&rdquo; said Lady
+Dorothea; &ldquo;we shall never have him again.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I 'm rather curious to see him,&rdquo; said Kate. &ldquo;All this discussion has
+imparted a kind of interest to him, not to say that there would seem
+something like a mystery in Captain Martin's connection with him.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I confess to no such curiosity,&rdquo; said my Lady, haughtily. &ldquo;The taste to
+be amused by vulgarity is like the passion some people have to see an
+hospital; you may be interested by the sight, but you may catch a malady
+for your pains.&rdquo; And with this observation of mingled truth and fallacy
+her Ladyship sailed proudly out of the room in all the conscious
+importance of her own cleverness.
+</p>
+<p>
+<a name="link2HCH0005" id="link2HCH0005">
+<!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+</p>
+<div style="height: 4em;">
+<br /><br /><br /><br />
+</div>
+<h2>
+CHAPTER V. A LETTER FROM HOME
+</h2>
+<p>
+While this discussion was going on, Martin was seated in his own room,
+examining the contents of his letter-bag, which the post had just
+delivered to him. A very casual glance at his features would have
+discovered that the tidings which met his eye were very rarely of a
+pleasant character. For the most part the letters were importunate appeals
+for money, subscriptions, loans, small sums to be repaid when the borrower
+had risen above his present difficulties, aids to effect some little
+enterprise on whose very face was failure. Then there were the more formal
+demands for sums actually due, written in the perfection of coercive
+courtesy, subjecting the reader to all the tortures of a moral surgical
+operation, a suffering actually increased by the very dexterity of the
+manipulator. Then came, in rugged hand and gnarled shape, urgent
+entreaties for abatements and allowances, pathetic pictures of failing
+crops, sickness and sorrow! Somewhat in contrast to these in matter&mdash;most
+strikingly unlike them in manner&mdash;was a short note from Mr. Maurice
+Scanlan. Like a rebutting witness in a cause, he spoke of everything as
+going on favorably; prices were fair, the oat crop a reasonable one. There
+was distress, to be sure, but who ever saw the West without it? The
+potatoes had partially failed; but as there was a great deal of typhus and
+a threat of cholera, there would be fewer to eat them. The late storms had
+done a good deal of mischief, but as the timber thrown down might be sold
+without any regard to the entail, some thousand pounds would thus be
+realized; and as the gale had carried away the new pier at Kilkieran,
+there would be no need to give a bounty to the fishermen who could not
+venture out to sea. The damage done to the house and the conservatories at
+Cro' Martin offered an opportunity to congratulate the owner on the
+happiness of living in a milder climate; while the local squabbles of the
+borough suggested a pleasant contrast with all the enjoyments of a life
+abroad.
+</p>
+<p>
+On the whole, Mr. Scanlan's letter was rather agreeable than the reverse,
+since he contrived to accompany all the inevitable ills of fortune by some
+side-wind consolations, and when pushed hard for these, skilfully
+insinuated in what way &ldquo;things might have been worse.&rdquo; If the letter did
+not reflect very favorably on either the heart or brain that conceived it,
+it well suited him to whom it was addressed. To screen himself from
+whatever might irritate him, to escape an unpleasant thought or unhappy
+reflection, to avoid, above all things, the slightest approach of
+self-censure, was Martin's great philosophy; and he esteemed the man who
+gave him any aid in this road. Now newspapers might croak their dark
+predictions about the coming winter, prophesy famine, fever, and
+pestilence; Scanlan's letter, &ldquo;written from the spot,&rdquo; by &ldquo;one who enjoyed
+every opportunity for forming a correct opinion,&rdquo; was there, and <i>he</i>
+said matters were pretty much as usual. The West of Ireland had never been
+a land of milk and honey, and nobody expected it ever would be,&mdash;the
+people could live in it, however, and pay rents too; and as Martin felt
+that he had no undue severity to reproach himself with, he folded up the
+epistle, saying that &ldquo;when a man left his house and property for a while,
+it was a real blessing to have such a fellow as Scanlan to manage for
+him;&rdquo; and truly, if one could have his conscience kept for a few hundreds
+a year, the compact might be a pleasant one. But even to the most
+self-indulgent this plan is impracticable; and so might it now be seen in
+Martin's heightened color and fidgety manner, and that even <i>he</i> was
+not as much at ease within as he wished to persuade himself he was.
+</p>
+<p>
+Amid the mass of correspondence, pamphlets and newspapers, one note, very
+small and neatly folded, had escaped Martin's notice till the very last;
+and it was only as he heaped up a whole bundle to throw into the fire that
+he discovered this, in Mary's well-known hand. He held it for some time
+ere he broke the seal, and his features assumed a sadder, graver cast than
+before. His desertion of her&mdash;and he had not blinked the word to
+himself&mdash;had never ceased to grieve him; and however disposed he
+often felt to throw upon others the blame which attached to himself here,
+he attempted no casuistry, but stood quietly, without one plea in his
+favor, before his own heart.
+</p>
+<p>
+The very consciousness of his culpability had prevented him writing to her
+as he ought; his letters were few, short, and constrained. Not all the
+generous frankness of hers could restore to him the candid ease of his
+former intercourse with her; and every chance expression he used was
+conned over and canvassed by him, lest it might convey some sentiment, or
+indicate some feeling foreign to his intention. At length so painful had
+the task become that he had ceased writing altogether, contenting himself
+with a message through Kate Henderson,&mdash;some excuse about his health,
+fatigue,-and so forth, ever coupled with a promise that he would soon be
+himself again, and as active a correspondent as she could desire.
+</p>
+<p>
+To these apologies Mary always replied in a kindly spirit. Whatever sorrow
+they might have cost her she kept for herself; they never awakened one
+expression of impatience, not a word of reproach. She understood him
+thoroughly,&mdash;his easy indolence of disposition, his dislike to a
+task, his avoidance of whatever was possible to defer; more even than all
+these, his own unforgiveness of himself for his part towards her. To
+alleviate, so far as she might, the poignancy of the last, was for a while
+the great object of all her letters; and so she continued to expatiate on
+the happy life she was leading, her contentment with the choice she had
+made of remaining there, throwing in little playful sallies of condolence
+at her uncle's banishment, and jestingly assuring him how much happier he
+would be at home!
+</p>
+<p>
+In whatever mood, however, she wrote, there was a striking absence of
+whatever could fret or grieve her uncle throughout all her letters. She
+selected every pleasant topic and the favorable side of every theme to
+tell of. She never forgot any little locality which he had been partial
+to, or any of the people who were his favorites; and, in fact, it might
+have seemed that the great object she had in view was to attach him more
+and more to the home he had left, and strengthen every tie that bound him
+to his own country. And all this was done lightly and playfully, and with
+a pleasant promise of the happiness he should feel on the day of his
+return.
+</p>
+<p>
+These letters were about the pleasantest incidents in Martin's present
+life; and the day which brought him one was sure to pass agreeably, while
+he made vigorous resolutions about writing a reply, and sometimes got even
+so far as to open a desk and ruminate over an answer. It so chanced that
+now a much longer interval had occurred since Mary's last letter, and the
+appearance of the present note, so unlike the voluminous epistle she
+usually despatched, struck him with a certain dismay. &ldquo;Poor Molly,&rdquo; said
+he, as he broke the seal, &ldquo;she is growing weary at last; this continued
+neglect is beginning to tell upon her. A little more, and she 'll believe&mdash;as
+well she may&mdash;that we have forgotten her altogether.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+The note was even briefer than he had suspected. It was written, too, in
+what might seem haste, or agitation, and the signature forgotten. Martin's
+hand trembled, and his chest heaved heavily as he read the following
+lines:&mdash;
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Cro' Martin, Wednesday Night
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Dearest Uncle,&mdash;You will not suffer these few lines to remain
+unanswered, since they are written in all the pressure of a great
+emergency. Our worst fears for the harvest are more than realized; a total
+failure in the potatoes&mdash;a great diminution in the oat crop; the
+incessant rains have flooded all the low meadows, and the cattle are
+almost without forage, while from the same cause no turf can be cut, and
+even that already cut and stacked cannot be drawn away from the bogs. But,
+worse than all these, typhus is amongst us, and cholera, they say, coming.
+I might stretch out this dreary catalogue, but here is enough, more than
+enough, to awaken your sympathies and arouse you to action. There is a
+blight on the land; the people are starving&mdash;dying. If every sense of
+duty was dead within us, if we could harden our hearts against every claim
+of those from whose labor we derive ease, from whose toil we draw wealth
+and leisure, we might still be recalled to better things by the glorious
+heroism of these poor people, so nobly courageous, so patient are they in
+their trials. It is not now that I can speak of the traits I have
+witnessed of their affection, their charity, their self-denial, and their
+daring&mdash;but now is the moment to show them that we, who have been
+dealt with more favorably by fortune, are not devoid of the qualities
+which adorn their nature.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I feel all the cruelty of narrating these things to you, too far away
+from the scene of sorrow to aid by your counsel and encourage by your
+assistance; but it would be worse than cruelty to conceal from you that a
+terrible crisis is at hand, which will need all your energy to mitigate.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Some measures are in your power, and must be adopted at once. There must
+be a remission of rent almost universally, for the calamity has involved
+all; and such as are a little richer than their neighbors should be aided,
+that they may be the more able to help them. Some stores of provisions
+must be provided to be sold at reduced rates, or even given gratuitously.
+Medical aid must be had, and an hospital of some sort established. The
+able-bodied must be employed on some permanent work; and for these, we
+want power from you and some present moneyed assistance. I will not harrow
+your feelings with tales of sufferings. You have seen misery here&mdash;enough,
+I say&mdash;you have witnessed nothing like this, and we are at but the
+beginning.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Write to me at once yourself&mdash;this is no occasion to employ a deputy&mdash;and
+forgive me, dearest uncle, for I know not what faults of presumption I may
+have here committed. My head is confused; the crash of misfortunes has
+addled me, and each succeed so rapidly on each other, that remedies are
+scarcely employed than they have to be abandoned. When, however, I can
+tell the people that it is their own old friend and master that sends them
+help, and bids them to be of good cheer,&mdash;when I can show them that,
+although separated by distance, your heart never ceases to live amongst
+them,&mdash;I know well the magic working of such a spell upon them, and
+how, with a bravery that the boldest soldier never surpassed, they will
+rise up against the stern foes of sickness and famine, and do battle with
+hard fortune manfully.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You have often smiled at what you deemed my exaggerated opinion of these
+poor people,&mdash;my over-confidence in their capacity for good. Oh&mdash;take
+my word for it&mdash;I never gave them credit for one half the excellence
+of their natures. They are on their trial now, and nobly do they sustain
+it!
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I have no heart to answer all your kind questions about myself,&mdash;enough
+that I am well; as little can I ask you about all your doings in Paris. I
+'m afraid I should but lose temper if I heard that they were pleasant
+ones; and yet, with my whole soul, I wish you to be happy; and with this,
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Believe me your affectionate
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Mr. Repton has written me the kindest of letters, full of good advice and
+good sense; he has also enclosed me a check for £100, with an offer of
+more if wanted. I was low and depressed when his note reached me, but it
+gave me fresh energy and hope. He proposed to come down here if I wished;
+but how could I ask such a sacrifice,&mdash;how entreat him to face the
+peril?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Tell Captain Martin I wish to speak to him,&rdquo; said Martin, as he finished
+the perusal of this letter. And in a few minutes after, that gallant
+personage appeared, not a little surprised at the summons.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I have got a letter from Mary here,&rdquo; said Martin, vainly endeavoring to
+conceal his agitation as he spoke, &ldquo;which I want to show you. Matters are
+in a sad plight in the West. She never exaggerates a gloomy story, and her
+account is very afflicting. Read it.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+The Captain lounged towards the window, and, leaning listlessly against
+the wall, opened the epistle.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You have not written to her lately, then?&rdquo; asked he, as he perused the
+opening sentence.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I am ashamed to say I have not; every day I made a resolution; but
+somehow&mdash;&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Is all this anything strange or new?&rdquo; broke in the Captain. &ldquo;I 'm certain
+I have forty letters from my mother with exactly the same story. In fact,
+before I ever broke the seal, I 'd have wagered an equal fifty that the
+potatoes had failed, the bogs were flooded, the roads impassable, and the
+people dying in thousands; and yet, when spring came round, by some happy
+miracle they were all alive and merry again!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Read on,&rdquo; said Martin, impatiently, and barely able to control himself at
+this heartless commentary.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Egad! I 'd have sworn I had read all this before, except these same
+suggestions about not exacting the rents, building hospitals, and so
+forth; that <i>is</i> new. And why does she say, 'Don't write by deputy'?
+Who <i>was</i> your deputy?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Kate Henderson has written for me latterly.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And I should say she 's quite equal to that sort of thing; she dashes off
+my mother's notes at score, and talks away, too, all the time she 's
+writing.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;That is not the question before us,&rdquo; said Martin, sternly.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;When I sent for you to read that letter, it was that you might advise and
+counsel me what course to take.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;If you can afford to give away a year's income in the shape of rent, and
+about as much more in the shape of a donation, of course you 're quite
+free to do it. I only wish that your generosity would begin at home,
+though; for I own to you I 'm very hard-up at this moment.&rdquo; This the
+Captain spoke with an attempted jocularity which decreased with every
+word, till it subsided into downright seriousness ere he finished.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;So far from being in a position to do an act of munificence, I am sorely
+pressed for money,&rdquo; said Martin.
+</p>
+<p>
+The Captain started; the half-smile with which he had begun to receive
+this speech died away on his lips as he asked, &ldquo;Is this really the case?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Most truly so,&rdquo; said Martin, solemnly.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;But how, in the name of everything absurd&mdash;how is this possible? By
+what stratagem could you have spent five thousand a year at Cro' Martin,
+and your estate was worth almost three times as much? Giving a very wide
+margin for waste and robbery, I 'd say five thousand could not be made
+away with there in a twelvemonth.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Your question only shows me how carelessly you must have read my letters
+to you, in India,&rdquo; said Martin; &ldquo;otherwise you could not have failed to
+see the vast improvements we have been carrying out on the property,&mdash;the
+roads, the harbors, the new quarries opened, the extent of ground covered
+by plantation,&mdash;all the plans, in fact, which Mary had matured&mdash;&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Mary! Mary!&rdquo; exclaimed the Captain. &ldquo;And do you tell me that all these
+things were done at the instigation of a young girl of nineteen or twenty,
+without any knowledge, or even advice&mdash;&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And who said she was deficient in knowledge?&rdquo; cried Martin. &ldquo;Take up the
+map of the estate; see the lands she has reclaimed; look at the swamps you
+used to shoot snipe over bearing corn crops; see the thriving village,
+where once the boatmen were starving, for they dared not venture out to
+sea without a harbor against bad weather.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Tell me the cost of all this. What's the figure?&rdquo; said the Captain;
+&ldquo;that's the real test of all these matters, for if <i>your</i> income
+could only feed this outlay, I pronounce the whole scheme the maddest
+thing in Christendom. My mother's taste for carved oak cabinets and
+historical pictures is the quintessence of wisdom in comparison.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Martin was overwhelmed and silent, and the other went on,&mdash;&ldquo;Half the
+fellows in 'ours' had the same story to tell,&mdash;of estates wasted, and
+fine fortunes squandered in what are called improvements. If the
+possession of a good property entails the necessity to spend it all in
+this fashion, one is very little better than a kind of land-steward to
+one's own estate; and, for my part, I 'd rather call two thousand a year
+my own, to do what I pleased with, than have a nominal twenty, of which I
+must disburse nineteen.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Am I again to remind you that this is not the question before us?&rdquo; said
+Martin, with increased sternness.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;That is exactly the very question,&rdquo; rejoined the Captain. &ldquo;Mary here
+coolly asks you, in the spirit of this same improvement-scheme, to
+relinquish a year's income, and make a present of I know not how much
+more, simply because things are going badly with them, just as if
+everybody has n't their turn of ill-fortune. Egad, I can answer for it, <i>mine</i>
+has n't been flourishing latterly, and yet I have heard of no benevolent
+plan on foot to aid or release me!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+To this heartless speech, uttered, however, in most perfect sincerity,
+Martin made no reply whatever, but sat with folded arms, deep in
+contemplation. At length, raising his head, he asked, &ldquo;And have you, then,
+no counsel to give,&mdash;no suggestion to make me?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Well,&rdquo; said he, suddenly, &ldquo;if Mary has not greatly overcharged all this
+story&mdash;&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;That she has not,&rdquo; cried Martin, interrupting him. &ldquo;There 's not a line,
+not a word of her letter, I 'd not guarantee with all I 'm worth in the
+world.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;In that case,&rdquo; resumed the Captain, in the same indolent tone, &ldquo;they must
+be in a sorry plight, and <i>I</i> think ought to cut and run as fast as
+they can. I know that's what <i>we</i> do in India; when the cholera
+comes, we break up the encampment, and move off somewhere else. Tell Mary,
+then, to advise them to keep out of 'the jungle,' and make for the hill
+country.'&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Martin stared at the speaker for some seconds, and it was evident how
+difficult he found it to believe that the words he had just listened to
+were uttered in deliberate seriousness.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;If you have read that letter, you certainly have not understood it,&rdquo; said
+he at last, in a voice full of melancholy meaning.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Egad, it's only too easy of comprehension,&rdquo; replied the Captain; &ldquo;of all
+things in life, there's no mistaking a demand for money.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Just take it with you to your own room, Harry,&rdquo; said Martin, with a
+manner of more affection than he had yet employed. &ldquo;It is my firm
+persuasion that when you have re-read and thought over it, your impression
+will be a different one. Con it over in solitude, and then come back and
+give me your advice.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+The Captain was not sorry to adopt a plan which relieved him so speedily
+from a very embarrassing situation, and, folding up the note, he turned
+and left the room.
+</p>
+<p>
+There are a great number of excellent people in this world who believe
+that &ldquo;Thought,&rdquo; like &ldquo;Écarté,&rdquo; is a game which requires two people to
+play. The Captain was one of these; nor was it within his comprehension to
+imagine how any one individual could suffice to raise the doubts he was
+called on to canvass or decide. &ldquo;Who should he now have recourse to?&rdquo; was
+his first question; and he had scarcely proposed it to himself when a soft
+low voice said, &ldquo;What is puzzling Captain Martin?&mdash;can I be of any
+service to him?&rdquo; He turned and saw Kate Henderson.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Only think how fortunate!&rdquo; exclaimed he. &ldquo;Just come in here to this
+drawing-room, and give me your advice.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Willingly,&rdquo; said she, with a courtesy the more marked because his manner
+indicated a seriousness that betokened trouble.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;My father has just dismissed me to cogitate over this epistle; as if,
+after all, when one has read a letter, that any secret or mystical
+interpretation is to come by all the reconsideration and reflection in the
+world.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Am I to read it?&rdquo; asked Kate, as he placed it in her hand.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Of course you are,&rdquo; said he.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;There is nothing confidential or private in it which I ought not to see?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Nothing; and if there were,&rdquo; added he, warmly, &ldquo;<i>you</i> are one of
+ourselves, I trust,&mdash;at least <i>I</i> think you so.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Kate's lips closed with almost stern % impressiveness, but her color never
+changed at this speech, and she opened the letter in silence. For some
+minutes she continued to read with the same impassive expression; but
+gradually her cheek became paler, and a haughty, almost scornful,
+expression settled on her lips. &ldquo;So patient are they in their trials,&rdquo;
+ said she, reading aloud the expression of Mary's note. &ldquo;Is it not
+possible, Captain Martin, that patience may be pushed a little beyond a
+virtue, and become something very like cowardice,&mdash;abject cowardice?
+And then,&rdquo; cried she impetuously, and not waiting for his reply, &ldquo;to say
+that now is the time to show these poor people the saving care and
+protection that the rich owe them, as if the duty dated from the hour of
+their being struck down by famine, laid low by pestilence, or that the
+debt could ever be acquitted by the relief accorded to pauperism! Why not
+have taught these same famished creatures self-dependence, elevated them
+to the rank of civilized beings by the enjoyment of rights that give men
+self-esteem as well as liberty? What do you mean to do, sir?&mdash;or is
+that your difficulty?&rdquo; cried she, hastily changing her tone to one of less
+energy.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Exactly,&mdash;that is <i>my difficulty</i>. My father, I suspect, wishes
+me to concur in the pleasant project struck out by Mary, and that, by way
+of helping <i>them</i>, we should ruin <i>ourselves</i>.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And <i>you</i> are for&mdash;&rdquo; She stopped, as if to let him finish her
+question for her.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Egad, I don't know well what I'm for, except it be self-preservation. I
+mean,&rdquo; said he, correcting himself, as a sudden glance of almost insolent
+scorn shot from Kate's eyes towards him,&mdash;&ldquo;I mean that I 'm certain
+more than half of this account is sheer exaggeration. Mary is frightened,&mdash;as
+well she may be,&mdash;finding herself all alone, and hearing nothing but
+the high-colored stories the people brings her, and listening to
+calamities from morning to night.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;But still it <i>may</i> be all true,&rdquo; said Kate, solemnly. &ldquo;It may be&mdash;as
+Miss Martin writes&mdash;that 'there is a blight on the land.'&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;What's to be done, then?&rdquo; asked he, in deep embarrassment.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;The first step is to ascertain what is fact,&mdash;the real extent of the
+misfortune.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And how is that to be accomplished?&rdquo; asked he.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Can you not think of some means?&rdquo; said she, with a scarcely perceptible
+approach to a smile.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;No, by Jove! that I cannot, except by going over there one's self.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And why not that?&rdquo; asked she, more boldly, while she fixed her large full
+eyes directly upon him.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;If <i>you</i> thought that I ought to go,&mdash;if you advised it and
+would actually say 'Go'&mdash;&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Well, if I should?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Then I'd set off to-night; though, to say truth, neither the journey nor
+the business are much to my fancy.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Were they ten times less so, sir, I'd say, 'Go,'&rdquo; said she, resolutely.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Then go I will,&rdquo; cried the Captain; &ldquo;and I'll start within two hours.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+<a name="link2HCH0006" id="link2HCH0006">
+<!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+</p>
+<div style="height: 4em;">
+<br /><br /><br /><br />
+</div>
+<h2>
+CHAPTER VI. MR. MERL'S DEPARTURE
+</h2>
+<p>
+Worthy reader, you are neither weak of purpose nor undecided in action; as
+little are you easily moved by soft influences, when aided by long
+eyelashes. But had you been so, it would have been no difficult effort for
+you to comprehend the state of mind in which Captain Martin repaired to
+his room to make preparation for his journey. There was a kind of half
+chivalry in his present purpose that nerved and supported him. It was like
+a knight-errant of old setting out to confront a peril at the behest of
+his lady-love; but against this animating conviction there arose that
+besetting sin of small minds,&mdash;a sense of distrust,&mdash;a lurking
+suspicion that he might be, all this while, nothing but the dupe of a very
+artful woman.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Who can tell,&rdquo; said he to himself, &ldquo;what plan she may have in all this,
+or what object she may propose to herself in getting <i>me</i> out of the
+way? I don't think she really cares one farthing about the distress of
+these people, supposing it all to be true; and as to the typhus fever and
+cholera, egad! if they be there, one ought to think twice before rushing
+into the midst of them. And then, again, what do I know about the country
+or its habits? I have no means of judging if it be poorer or sicklier or;
+more wretched than usual. To <i>my</i> eyes, it always seemed at the
+lowest depth of want and misery; every one went half starved and more than
+half naked. I 'm sure there is no necessity for my going some few hundred
+and odd miles to refresh my memory on this pleasant fact; and yet this is
+precisely what I 'm about to do. Is it by way of trying her power over me?
+By Jove, I 've hit it!&rdquo; cried he, suddenly, as he stopped arranging a mass
+of letters which he was reducing to order before his departure. &ldquo;That's
+her game; there's no doubt of it! She has said to herself, 'This will
+prove him. If he do this at my bidding, he'll do more.' Ay, but will he,
+mademoiselle? that's the question. A young hussar may turn out to be a
+very old soldier. What if I were just to tell her so. Girls of her stamp
+like a man all the better when he shows himself to be wide-awake. I 'd lay
+a fifty on it she 'll care more for me when she sees I 'm her own equal in
+shrewdness. And, after all, why should <i>I</i> go? I could send my valet,
+Fletcher,&mdash;just the kind of fellow for such a mission,&mdash;never
+knew the secret he could n't worm out; there never was a bit of barrack
+scandal he did n't get to the bottom of. He 'd be back here within a
+fortnight, with the whole state of the case, and I'll be bound there will
+be no humbugging <i>him</i>.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+This bright idea was not, however, without its share of detracting
+reflections, for what became of all that personal heroism on which he
+reposed such hope, if the danger were to be encountered by deputy? This
+was a puzzle, not the less that he had not yet made up his mind whether he
+'d really be in love with Kate Henderson, or only involve <i>her</i> in an
+unfortunate attachment for <i>him</i>. While he thus pondered and
+hesitated, strewing his room with the contents of drawers and cabinets, by
+way of aiding the labor of preparation, his door was suddenly opened, and
+Mr. Merl made his appearance. Although dressed with all his habitual
+regard to effect, and more than an ordinary display of chains and
+trinkets, that gentleman's aspect betokened trouble and anxiety; at least,
+there was a certain restlessness in his eye that Martin well understood as
+an evidence of something wrong within.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Are you getting ready for a journey, Captain?&rdquo; asked he, as he entered.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I was thinking of it; but I believe I shall not go. I 'm undecided.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Up the Rhine?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;No; not in that direction.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;South,&mdash;towards Italy, perhaps?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Nor there, either. I was meditating a trip to England.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;We should be on the road together,&rdquo; said Merl. &ldquo;I'm off by four o'clock.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;How so? What's the reason of this sudden start?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;There's going to be a crash here,&rdquo; said Merl, speaking in a lower tone.
+&ldquo;The Government have been doing the thing with too high a hand, and
+there's mischief brewing.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Are you sure of this?&rdquo; asked Martin.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Only too sure, that's all. I bought in, on Tuesday last, at sixty-four
+and an eighth, and the same stock is now fifty-one and a quarter, and will
+be forty to-morrow. The day after&mdash;&rdquo; Here Mr. Merl made a motion with
+his outstretched arm, to indicate utter extinction.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You're a heavy loser, then?&rdquo; asked Martin, eagerly.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I shall be, to the tune of some thirteen thousand pounds. It was just on
+that account I came in here. I shall need money within the week, and must
+turn those Irish securities of yours into cash,&mdash;some of them at
+least,&mdash;and I want a hint from you as to which I ought to dispose of
+and which hold over. You told me one day, I remember, that there was a
+portion of the property likely to rise greatly in value&mdash;&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;<i>You</i> told me, sir,&rdquo; said Captain Martin, breaking suddenly in,
+&ldquo;when I gave you these same bonds, that they should remain in your own
+hands, and never leave them. That was the condition on which I gave them.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I suppose, Captain, you gave them for something; you did not make a
+present of them,&rdquo; said the Jew, coloring slightly.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;If I did not make a present of them,&rdquo; rejoined Martin, &ldquo;the transaction
+was about as profitable to me.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You owed me the money, sir; that, at least, is the way I regard the
+matter.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And when I paid it by these securities, you pledged yourself not to
+negotiate them. I explained to you how the entail was settled,&mdash;that
+the property must eventually be mine,&mdash;and you accepted the
+arrangement on these conditions.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;All true, Captain; but nobody told me, at that time, there was going to
+be a revolution in Paris,&mdash;which there will be within forty-eight
+hours.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Confounded fool that I was to trust the fellow!&rdquo; said Martin to himself,
+but quite loud enough to be heard; then turning to Merl, he said, &ldquo;What do
+you mean by converting them into cash? Are you about to sell part of our
+estate?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Nothing of the kind, Captain,&rdquo; said Merl, smiling at the innocence of the
+question. &ldquo;I am simply going to deposit these where I can obtain an
+advance upon them. I promise you, besides, it shall not be in any quarter
+by which the transaction can reach the ears of your family. This assurance
+will, I trust, satisfy <i>you</i>, and entitle <i>me</i> to the
+information I ask for.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;What information do you allude to?&rdquo; asked Martin, who had totally
+forgotten what the Jew announced as the reason of his visit.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I asked you, Captain,&rdquo; said Merl, resuming the mincing softness of his
+usual manner, &ldquo;as to which of these securities might be the more eligible
+for immediate negotiation?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And how should I know, sir?&rdquo; replied the other, rudely. &ldquo;I am very little
+acquainted with the property itself; I know still less about the kind of
+dealings you speak of. It does not concern me in the least what you do, or
+how you do it. I believe I may have given you bonds for something very
+like double the amount of all you ever advanced to me. I hear of nothing
+from my father but the immense resources of this, and the great
+capabilities of that; but as these same eventualities are not destined to
+better <i>my</i> condition, I have not troubled my head to remember
+anything about them. You have a claim of about twenty thousand against
+me.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Thirty-two thousand four hundred and seventy-eight pounds,&rdquo; said the Jew,
+reading from a small note-book which he had just taken from his waistcoat
+pocket.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;That is some ten thousand more than ever I heard of,&rdquo; said Martin, with
+an hysterical sort of laugh. &ldquo;Egad, Merl, the fellows were right that
+would not have you in the 'Cercle.' You 'd have 'cleared every man of them
+out,'&mdash;as well let a ferret into a rabbit warren.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I was n't aware,&mdash;I had not heard that I was put up&mdash;&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;To be sure you were; in all form proposed, seconded, and duly
+blackballed. I own to you, I thought it very hard, very illiberal. There
+are plenty of fellows there that have no right to be particular; and so
+Jack Massingbred as much as told them. The fact is, Merl, you ought to
+have waited awhile, and by the time that Harlowe and Spencer Cavendish and
+a few more such were as deep in your books as I am, you 'd have had a walk
+over. Willoughby says the same. It might have cost you something smart,
+but you 'd have made it pay in the end,&mdash;eh, Merl?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+To this speech, uttered in a strain of jocular impertinence, Merl made no
+reply. He had just torn one of his gloves in pieces in the effort to draw
+it on, and he was busily exerting himself to get rid of the fragments.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Lady Dorothea had given me a card for you for Saturday,&rdquo; resumed the
+Captain; &ldquo;but as you 're going away&mdash;Besides, after this defeat at
+the Club, you could n't well come amongst all these people; so there's
+nothing for it but patience, Merl, patience&mdash;&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;A lesson that may be found profitable to others, perhaps,&rdquo; said the Jew,
+with one of his furtive looks at the Captain, who quailed under it at
+once.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I was going to give you a piece of advice, Merl,&rdquo; said he, in a tone the
+very opposite to his late bantering one. &ldquo;It was, that you should just
+take a run over to Ireland yourself, and see the property.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I mean to do so, Captain Martin,&rdquo; said the other, calmly.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I can't offer you letters, for they would defeat what you desire to
+accomplish; besides, there is no member of the family there at present but
+a young lady-cousin of mine.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Just the kind of introduction I 'd like,&rdquo; said the Jew, with all the zest
+of a man glad to say what he knew would be deemed an impertinence.
+</p>
+<p>
+Martin grew crimson with suppressed anger, but never spoke a word.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Is this the Cousin Mary I have heard you speak of,&rdquo; said Merl,&mdash;&ldquo;the
+great horsewoman, and she that ventures out alone on the Atlantic in a
+mere skiff?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Martin nodded. His temper was almost an overmatch for him, and he dared
+not trust himself to speak.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I should like to see her amazingly, Captain,&rdquo; resumed Merl.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Remember, sir, you have no lien upon <i>her</i>,&rdquo; said Martin, sternly.
+</p>
+<p>
+The Jew smirked and ran his fingers through his hair with the air of one
+who deemed such an eventuality by no means so very remote.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Do you know, Master Merl,&rdquo; said Martin, staring at him from head to foot
+with an expression the reverse of complimentary, &ldquo;I 'm half disposed to
+give you a few lines to my cousin; and if you 'll not take the thing as a
+<i>mauvais plaisanterie</i> on my part, I will do so.&rdquo;. &ldquo;Quite the
+contrary, Captain. I 'll deem it a great favor, indeed,&rdquo; said Merl, with
+an admirable affectation of unconsciousness.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Here goes, then,&rdquo; said Martin, sitting down to a table, and preparing his
+writing materials, while in a hurried hand he began:&mdash;
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;'Dear Cousin Mary,&mdash;This will introduce to you Mr. Herman Merl, who
+visits your remote regions on a tour of&mdash;&mdash;What shall I say?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Pleasure,&mdash;amusement,&rdquo; interposed Merl.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;No, when I <i>am</i> telling a fib, I like a big one,&mdash;I 'll say,
+philanthropy, Merl; and there's nothing so well adapted to cover those
+secret investigations you are bent upon,&mdash;a tour of philanthropy.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;'You will, I am sure, lend him all possible assistance in his benevolent
+object,&mdash;the same being to dispose of the family acres,&mdash;and at
+the same time direct his attention to whatever may be matter of interest,&mdash;whether
+mines, quarries, or other property easily convertible into cash,&mdash;treating
+him in all respects as one to whom I owe many obligations&mdash;and
+several thousand pounds.'
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Will that do, think you?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Perfectly; nothing better.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;In return, I shall ask one favor at your hands,&rdquo; said Martin, as he
+folded and addressed the epistle. &ldquo;It is that you write me a full account
+of what you see in the West,&mdash;how the country looks, and the people.
+Of course it will all seem terribly poor and destitute, and all that sort
+of thing, to your eyes; but just try and find out if it be worse than
+usual. Paddy is such a shrewd fellow, Merl, that it will require all your
+own sharpness not to be taken in by him. A long letter full of detail&mdash;a
+dash of figures in it&mdash;as to how many sheep have the rot, or how many
+people have caught the fever, will improve it,&mdash;you know the kind of
+thing I mean; and&mdash;I don't suppose you care about shooting, yourself,
+but you 'll get some one to tell you&mdash;are the birds plenty and in
+good condition. There's a certain Mr. Scanlan, if you chance upon him; he
+'s up to everything, and not a bad performer at dummy whist,&mdash;though
+I think <i>you</i> could teach him a thing or two.&rdquo; Merl smiled and tried
+to look flattered, while the other went on: &ldquo;And there 's another, called
+Henderson,&mdash;the steward,&mdash;a very shrewd person,&mdash;but <i>you</i>
+don't need all these particulars; you may be trusted to your own good
+guidance,&mdash;eh, Merl?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Merl again smiled in the same fashion as before; in fact, so completely
+had he resumed the bland expression habitual to him, that the Captain
+almost forgot the unpleasant cause of his visit, and all the disagreeable
+incidents of the interview.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You could n't give me a few lines to this Mr. Scanlan?&rdquo; asked Merl, with
+an air of easy indifference.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Nothing easier,&rdquo; cried the Captain, reseating himself; then suddenly
+rising, with the expression of one to whom a sudden thought had just
+crossed the mind, &ldquo;Wait one second for me here, Merl; I'll be back with
+you at once.&rdquo; And as he spoke he dashed out of the room, and hastened to
+his father.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;By a rare piece of luck,&rdquo; cried he, as he entered, &ldquo;I 've just chanced
+upon the very fellow we want; an acquaintance I picked up at the Cape,&mdash;up
+to everything; he goes over to Ireland to-night, and he 'll take a run
+down to Cro' Martin, and send us his report of all he sees. Whatever he
+tells us may be relied upon; for, depend upon 't, no lady can humbug <i>him</i>.
+I 've just given him a note for Mary, and I 'll write a few lines also by
+way of introducing him to Scanlan.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Martin could barely follow the Captain, as with rapid utterance he poured
+forth this plan. &ldquo;Do I know him? What's his name?&rdquo; asked he at last.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You never saw him. His name is Merl,&mdash;Herman Merl,&mdash;a fellow of
+considerable wealth; a great speculator,&mdash;one of those Stock Exchange
+worthies who never deal in less than tens of thousands. He has a crotchet
+in his head about buying up half the West of Ireland,&mdash;some scheme
+about flax and the deep-sea fishery. I don't understand it, but I suppose
+<i>he</i> does. At all events, he has plenty of money, and the head to
+make it fructify; and if he only take a liking to it, he 's the very
+fellow to buy up Kilkieran, and the islands, and the rest of that waste
+district you were telling me of t'other night. But I must n't detain him.
+He starts at four o'clock; and I only ran over here to tell you not to
+worry yourself any more about Mary's letter. He 'll look to it all.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+And with this consolatory assurance the Captain hastened away, leaving
+Martin as much relieved in mind as an indolent nature and an easy
+conscience were sure to make him. To get anybody &ldquo;to look to&rdquo; anything had
+been his whole object in life; to know that, whatever happened, there was
+always somebody who misstated this, or neglected that, at whose door all
+the culpability&mdash;where there was such&mdash;could be laid and but for
+whom he had himself performed miracles of energy and devotedness, and
+endured all the tortures and trials of a martyr. He was, indeed, as are a
+great many others in this world, an excellent man to his own heart,&mdash;kind,
+charitable, and affectionate; a well-wisher to his kind, and hopeful of
+almost every one; but, all this while, his virtues, like a miser's gold,
+had no circulation; they remained locked up within him for his own use
+alone, and there he sat, counting them over and gazing at them,
+speculating upon all that this affluence could do, and&mdash;never doing
+it!
+</p>
+<p>
+Life abounds with such men. They win respect while they live, and white
+marble records their virtues when they die! Nor are they all useless.
+Their outward bearing at least simulates whatever we revere in good men,
+and we accept them in the same spirit of compromise as we take stucco for
+stone; if they do no more, they show our appreciation of the &ldquo;real
+article.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+The Captain was not long in inditing a short note to Scanlan, to whom,
+&ldquo;strictly confidential,&rdquo; Mr. Merl was introduced as a great capitalist and
+speculator, desirous to ascertain all the resources of the land. Scanlan
+was enjoined to show him every attention, making his visit in all respects
+as agreeable as possible.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;This fellow will treat you well, Merl,&rdquo; said the Captain, as he folded
+the letter; &ldquo;will give you the best salmon you ever tasted, and a glass of
+Gordon's Madeira such as few could sport now-a-days. And if you have a
+fancy for a day with my Cousin Mary's hounds, he 'll mount you admirably,
+and show you the way besides.&rdquo; And with this speech Martin wished him
+good-bye; and closing the door after him, added, &ldquo;And if he'll kindly
+assist you to a broken neck, it's about the greatest service he could
+render me!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+The laugh, silly and meaningless, that followed his utterance of this
+speech, showed that it was spoken in all the listlessness of one who had
+not really character enough to be even a &ldquo;good hater.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+<a name="link2HCH0007" id="link2HCH0007">
+<!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+</p>
+<div style="height: 4em;">
+<br /><br /><br /><br />
+</div>
+<h2>
+CHAPTER VII. THE CLUB
+</h2>
+<p>
+So little impression had Merl's gloomy forebodings made upon Captain
+Martin, that he actually forgot everything that this shrewd gentleman
+predicted, and only partially recalled them when the conversation the next
+morning at the Club turned on the disturbed state of the capital. People
+in &ldquo;society&rdquo; find it excessively difficult to believe in anything like an
+organized opposition to the authorities of a government. They are so
+accustomed to hear of street assemblages being scattered by a few
+soldiers, mobs routed by a handful of mounted policemen, that they are
+slow to imagine how any formidable movement can take its rise in such a
+source. But the maladies of states, like those of the human frame, are
+often mere trifles in their origin; chance, and the concurrence of events
+swell their importance, till they assume an aspect of perhaps greater
+menace than they deserve. This is essentially the case in revolutionary
+struggles, where, at the outset, none ever contemplates the extent to
+which the mischief may reach. The proclamation of the &ldquo;Ordinances,&rdquo; as
+they were called, had produced a great excitement in Paris. Groups of men
+in every street were gathered around some one reading aloud the violent
+commentaries of the public papers; thoughtful and stern faces were met at
+every corner; a look of expectancy&mdash;an expression that seemed to say,
+What next?&mdash;was perceptible on all sides. Many of the shops were half
+closed, and in some the objects of great value were withdrawn to places of
+greater security. It was clear to see that men apprehended some great
+crisis; but whence it should come, or by whose instrumentality promoted,
+none seemed able to guess. Now and then a mounted orderly would ride by at
+a smart trot, or a patrol party of dragoons dash past; and the significant
+glance that followed them indicated how full of meaning these signs
+appeared.
+</p>
+<p>
+The day passed in this state of anxious uncertainty; and although the
+journals discussed the condition of the capital as full of danger and
+menace, an ostentatious announcement in the &ldquo;Moniteur&rdquo; proclaimed Paris to
+be tranquil. In society&mdash;at least in the world of fashion and high
+life&mdash;there were very few who would have disputed the official
+despatch. &ldquo;Who and what were they who could dispute the King's Government?
+Who and where were there either leaders or followers? In what way should
+they attempt it? The troops in and around Paris numbered something over
+forty thousand, commanded by an old Marshal of the Empire, now the
+trustiest adherent of royalty. The days of Mirabeaus and Robespierres and
+Dantons had passed away; nor were these times in which men would like to
+recall the reigns of terror and the guillotine.&rdquo; So they reasoned&mdash;or,
+if the phrase be too strong, so they talked&mdash;who lounged on
+soft-cushioned ottomans, or moved listlessly over luxurious carpets; all
+agreeing that it would be treasonable in the Ministers to retreat or abate
+one jot of the high prerogative of the Crown. Powdered heads shook
+significantly, and gold-embroidered vests heaved indignantly at the bare
+thought that the old spirit of '95 should have survived amongst them; but
+not one dreamed that the event boded seriously, or that the destinies of a
+great nation were then in the balance.
+</p>
+<p>
+It is but five-and-twenty years ago; and how much more have we learned of
+the manufacture of revolutions in the interval! Barricades and street
+warfare have become a science, and the amount of resistance a half-armed
+populace can offer to a regular force is as much a matter of certainty as
+a mathematical theorem. At that period, however, men were but in the
+infancy of this knowledge; the traditions of the Great Revolution scarcely
+were remembered, and, for the most part, they were inapplicable.
+</p>
+<p>
+What wonder, then, if people in society smiled scornfully at the
+purposeless masses that occasionally moved past beneath their windows,
+shouting with discordant voices some fragments of the &ldquo;Marseillaise,&rdquo; or,
+as they approached the residence of any in authority, venturing on the
+more daring cry of &ldquo;Down with the Ordinances!&rdquo; The same tone of haughty
+contempt pervaded the &ldquo;Club.&rdquo; Young men of fashion, little given to the
+cares of political life, and really indifferent to the action of laws
+which never invaded the privileges of the play-table, or curtailed one
+prerogative of the &ldquo;Coulisses,&rdquo; felt an angry impatience at all the
+turbulence and riot of the public streets.
+</p>
+<p>
+In a magnificently furnished salon of the Club a number of these young men
+were now assembled. Gathered from every nation of Europe,&mdash;many of
+them bearing names of high historical interest,&mdash;they were, so far as
+dress, air, and appearance went, no ignoble representatives of the class
+they belonged to. The proud and haughty Spaniard, the fierce-eyed,
+daring-looking Pole, the pale, intellectual-faced Italian, the courteous
+Russian, and the fair-haired, stalwart Saxon were all there; and, however
+dissimilar in type, banded together by the magic influence of the &ldquo;set&rdquo;
+ they moved in, to an almost perfect uniformity of sentiment and opinion.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I vote that any man be fined ten Louis that alludes, however remotely, to
+this confounded question again,&rdquo; cried Count Gardoni, rising impatiently
+from his chair and approaching a card-table.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And I second you!&rdquo; exclaimed a Polish prince, with a Russian decoration
+at his button-hole.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Carried <i>nem. con.</i>&rdquo; said Captain Martin, seating himself at the
+play-table. &ldquo;And now for the 'Lansquenet.'&rdquo; And in a moment every seat was
+occupied, and purses of gold and pocket-books of bank-notes were strewed
+over the board. They were all men who played high; and the game soon
+assumed the grave character that so invariably accompanies large wagers.
+Wonderfully little passed, except the terms of the game itself. Gambling
+is a jealous passion, and never admits its votaries to wander in their
+attention. And now large sums passed from hand to hand, and all the
+passions of hope and fear racked heads and hearts around, while a decorous
+silence prevailed; or, when broken, some softly toned voice alone
+interrupted the stillness.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Are you going, Martin?&rdquo; whispered the young French Count de Nevers, as
+the other moved noiselessly back from the table.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;It is high time, I think,&rdquo; said Martin; &ldquo;this is my seventeenth night of
+losing,&mdash;losing heavily, too. I'm sick of it!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Here 's a chance for you, Martin,&rdquo; said a Russian prince, who had just
+assumed &ldquo;the bank.&rdquo; &ldquo;You shall have your choice of color, and your own
+stake.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Thanks; but I'll not be tempted.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I say red, and a thousand francs,&rdquo; cried a Neapolitan.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;There 's heavier play outside, I suspect,&rdquo; said Martin, as a wild, hoarse
+shout from the streets re-echoed through the room.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;A fine,&mdash;a fine,&mdash;Martin is fined!&rdquo; cried several around the
+table.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You have n't left me wherewithal to pay it, gentlemen,&rdquo; said he,
+laughing. &ldquo;I was just about to retire, a bankrupt, into private life.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;That's platoon fire,&rdquo; exclaimed the Pole, as the loud detonation of small
+arms seemed to shake the very room.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Czernavitz also fined,&rdquo; cried two together.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I bow in submission to the Court,&rdquo; said the Pole, throwing down the money
+on the table.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Lend <i>me</i> as much more,&rdquo; said Martin; &ldquo;it may change my luck.&rdquo; And
+with this gambler's philosophy, he again drew nigh the table.
+</p>
+<p>
+This slight interruption over, the game proceeded as before. Martin,
+however, was now a winner, every wager succeeding, and every bet he made a
+gain.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;There's nothing like a dogged persistence,&rdquo; said the Russian. &ldquo;Fortune
+never turns her back on him who shows constancy. See Martin, now; by that
+very resolution he has conquered, and here we are, all cleared out!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I am, for one,&rdquo; cried an Italian, flinging his empty purse on the table.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;There's my last Louis,&rdquo; said Nevers. &ldquo;I reserve it to pay for my supper.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Martin shall treat us all to supper!&rdquo; exclaimed another.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Where shall it be, then?&rdquo; said Martin; &ldquo;here, or at my own quarters?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Here, by all means,&rdquo; cried some.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I 'm for the Place Vendôme,&rdquo; said the Pole, &ldquo;for who knows but we shall
+catch a glimpse of that beautiful girl, Martin's 'Belle Irlandaise.'&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I saw her to-night,&rdquo; said the Italian, &ldquo;and I own she <i>is</i> all you
+say. She was speaking to Villemart, and I assure you the old Minister
+won't forget it in a hurry. Something or other he said about the noise in
+the street drew from him the word <i>canaille</i>. She turned round at
+once and attacked him. He replied, and the controversy grew warm; so much
+so, that many gathered around them to listen, amongst whom I saw the Duc
+de Guiche, Prince du Saulx, and the Austrian Minister. Nothing could be
+more perfect than her manner,&mdash;calm, without any effrontery; assured,
+and yet no sacrifice of delicacy. It was easy to see, too, that the theme
+was not one into which she stumbled by an accident; she knew every event
+of the Great Revolution, and used the knowledge with consummate skill,
+and, but for one slip, with consummate temper also.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;What was the slip you allude to?&rdquo; cried the Russian.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;It was when Villemart, after a boastful enumeration of the superior
+merits of his order, called them the 'Enlighteners of the People.'
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;'You played that part on one occasion,' said she; 'but I scarcely thought
+you 'd like to refer to it.'
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;'How so? When do you mean?' asked he.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;'When they hung you to the lanterns,' said she, with the energy of a
+tigress in her look. Pardié! at that moment I never saw anything so
+beautiful or so terrible.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+A loud uproar in the street without, in which the sound of troop-horses
+passaging to and fro could be distinguished, now interrupted the colloquy.
+As the noise increased, a low, deep roar, like the sound of distant
+thunder, could be heard, and the Pole cried out,&mdash;&ldquo;Messieurs les
+Sans-culottes, I strongly advise you to turn homewards, for, if I be not
+much mistaken, here comes the artillery.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;The affair may turn out a serious one, after all,&rdquo; broke in the Italian.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;A serious one!&rdquo; echoed the Pole, scornfully. &ldquo;How can it? Forty
+battalions of infantry, ten thousand sabres, and eight batteries; are they
+not enough, think you, to rout this contemptible herd of street rioters?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;There&mdash;listen! It has begun already!&rdquo; exclaimed Martin, as the sharp
+report of fire-arms, quite close to the windows, was followed by a crash,
+and then a wild, mad shout, half rage, half defiance.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;There's nothing for it, in these things, but speedy action,&rdquo; said the
+Pole; &ldquo;grape and cavalry charges to clear the streets, and rifle practice
+at anything that shows itself at the windows.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;It is so easy, so very easy, to crush a mob,&rdquo; said the Russian, &ldquo;if you
+only direct your attention to the leader,&mdash;think of nothing but <i>him</i>.
+Once you show that, whatever may be the fate of others, death must be his,
+the whole assemblage becomes a disorganized, unwieldy mass, to be sabred
+or shot down at pleasure.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Soldiers have no fancy for this kind of warfare,&rdquo; said De Nevers,
+haughtily; &ldquo;victory is never glorious, defeat always humiliation.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;But who talks of defeat?&rdquo; exclaimed the Pole, passionately. &ldquo;The officer
+who could fail against such an enemy should be shot by a court-martial. We
+have, I believe, every man of us here, served; and I asked you, what
+disproportion of force could suggest a doubt of success?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+As he spoke, the door of the room was suddenly opened, and a young man,
+with dress all disordered, and the fragment of a hat in his hand, entered.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;What, Massingbred!&rdquo; cried one, &ldquo;how came you to be so roughly handled?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;So much for popular politeness!&rdquo; exclaimed the Russian, as he took up the
+tattered remains of a dress-coat, and exhibited it to the others.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Pardon me, Prince,&rdquo; replied Massingbred, as he filled a glass of water
+and drank it off, &ldquo;this courtesy I received at the hands of the military.
+I was turning my cab from the Boulevard to enter this street, when a
+hoarse challenge of a sentry, saying I know not what, attracted my
+attention. I drew up short to learn, and then suddenly came a rush of the
+people from behind, which terrified my horse, and set him off at speed;
+the uproar increasing, the affrighted animal dashed madly onward, the
+crowd flying on every side, when suddenly a bullet whizzed past my head,
+cutting my hat in two; a second, at the same instant, struck my horse, and
+killed him on the spot, cab and all rolling over as he fell. How I arose,
+gained my legs, and was swept away by the dense torrent of the populace,
+are events of which I am very far from clear. I only know that although
+the occurrence happened within half an hour ago, it seems to <i>me</i> an
+affair of days since.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You were, doubtless, within some line of outposts when first challenged,&rdquo;
+ said the Pole, &ldquo;and the speed at which you drove was believed to be an
+arranged plan of attack, for you say the mob followed you.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Very possibly your explanation is the correct one,&rdquo; said Massingbred,
+coolly; &ldquo;but I looked for more steadiness and composure from the troops,
+while I certainly did not anticipate so much true courtesy and kindness as
+I met with from the people.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Parbleu! here's Massingbred becoming Democrat,&rdquo; said one. &ldquo;The next thing
+we shall hear is his defence of a barricade.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You'll assuredly not hear that I attacked one in such company as
+inflicted all this upon me,&rdquo; rejoined he, with an easy smile.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Here's the man to captivate your 'Belle Irlandaise,' Martin,&rdquo; cried one.
+&ldquo;Already is he a hero and a martyr to Royal cruelty.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Ah! you came too late to hear that,&rdquo; said the Pole, in a whisper to
+Massingbred; &ldquo;but it seems La Henderson became quite a Charlotte Corday
+this evening, and talked more violent Republicanism than has been heard in
+a salon since the days of old Égalité.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;All lights must be extinguished, gentlemen,&rdquo; said the waiter, entering
+hastily. &ldquo;The street is occupied by troops, and you must pass out by the
+Rue de Grenelle.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Are the mobs not dispersing, then?&rdquo; asked the Russian.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;No, your Highness. They have beaten back the troops from the Quai
+Voltaire, and are already advancing on the Louvre.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;What absurdity!&rdquo; exclaimed the Pole. &ldquo;If the troops permit this, there is
+treason amongst them.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I can answer for it there is terror, at least,&rdquo; said Massingbred. &ldquo;All
+the high daring and spirit is with what you would call the Sans-culottes.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;That a man should talk this way because he has lost a cab-horse!&rdquo; cried
+the Pole, insolently.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;There are men who can bear the loss of a country with more equanimity,&mdash;I
+know that,&rdquo; whispered Massingbred in his ear, with all the calm sternness
+of an insult.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You mean this for <i>me?</i>&rdquo; said the Pole, in a low voice.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Of course I do,&rdquo; was the answer.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Where?&mdash;when?&mdash;how?&rdquo; muttered the Pole, in suppressed passion.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I leave all at your disposal,&rdquo; said Massingbred, smiling at the other's
+effort to control his rage.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;At Versailles,&mdash;to-morrow morning,&mdash;pistols.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Massingbred bowed, and turned away. At the same instant the waiter entered
+to say that the house must be cleared at once, or all within it consent to
+remain close prisoners.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Come along, Martin,&rdquo; said Massingbred, taking his arm. &ldquo;I shall want you
+to do me a favor. Let us make our escape by the Rue de Grenelle, and I 'll
+engage to pilot you safely to your own quarters.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Has anything passed between you and Czernavitz?&rdquo; asked Martin, as they
+gained the street.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;A slight exchange of civilities which requires an exchange of shots,&rdquo;
+ said Jack, calmly.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;By George! I 'm sorry for it. He can hit a franc-piece at thirty paces.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;So can I, Martin; and, what's more, Anatole knows it. He's as brave as a
+lion, and it is my confounded skill has pushed him on to this
+provocation.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;He 'll shoot you,&rdquo; muttered Martin, in a half revery.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Not impossible,&rdquo; said Massingbred. &ldquo;He's a fellow who cannot conceal his
+emotions, and will show at once what he means to do.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Well, what of that?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Simply, that if he intends mischief I shall know it, and send a bullet
+through his heart.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Little as Martin had seen of Massingbred,&mdash;they were but Club
+acquaintances of a few weeks back,&mdash;he believed that he was one of
+those smart, versatile men who, with abundance of social ability, acquire
+reputation for higher capacity than they possess; but, above all, he never
+gave him credit for anything like a settled purpose or a stern resolution.
+It was, then, with considerable astonishment that he now heard him avow
+this deadly determination with all the composure that could vouch for its
+sincerity. There was, however, little time to think of these things. The
+course they were driven to follow, by by-streets and alleys, necessitated
+a long and difficult way. The great thoroughfares which they crossed at
+intervals were entirely in the possession of the troops, who challenged
+them as they approached, and only suffered them to proceed when well
+satisfied with their account. The crowds had all dispersed, and to the
+late din and tumult there had succeeded the deep silence of a city sunk in
+sleep, only broken by the hoarse call of the sentinels, or the distant
+tramp of a patrol.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;It is all over, I suppose,&rdquo; said Martin. &ldquo;The sight of the eight-pounders
+and the dark caissons has done the work.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I don't think so,&rdquo; said Massingbred, &ldquo;nor do the troops think so. These
+mobs are not like ours in England, who, with plenty of individual courage,
+are always poltroons in the mass. These fellows understand fighting as an
+art, know how to combine their movements, arrange the modes of attack or
+defence, can measure accurately the means of resistance opposed to them,
+and, above all, understand how to be led,&mdash;something far more
+difficult than it seems. In <i>my</i> good borough of Oughterard,&mdash;or
+yours, rather, Martin, for I have only a loan of it,&mdash;a few soldiers&mdash;the
+army, as they would call them&mdash;would sweep the whole population
+before them. Our countrymen can get up a row, these fellows can accomplish
+a revolt,&mdash;there's the difference.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And have they any real, substantial grievance that demands such an
+expiation?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Who knows?&rdquo; said he, laughingly. &ldquo;There never was a Government too bad to
+live under,&mdash;there never was one exempt from great vices. Half the
+political disturbances the world has witnessed have arisen from causes
+remote from State Government; a deficient harvest, a dear loaf, the
+liberty of the Press invaded,&mdash;a tyranny always resented by those who
+can't read,&mdash;are common causes enough. But here we are now at the
+Place Vendôme, and certainly one should say the odds are against the
+people.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Massingbred said truly. Two battalions of infantry, with a battery of guns
+in position, were flanked by four squadrons of Cuirassiers, the formidable
+array filling the entire &ldquo;Place,&rdquo; and showing by their air and attitude
+their readiness for any eventuality. A chance acquaintance with one of the
+staff enabled Massingbred and Martin to pass through their lines and
+arrive at their hotel.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Remember,&rdquo; said the officer who accompanied them, &ldquo;that you are close
+prisoners now. My orders are that nobody is to leave the Place under any
+pretext.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Why, you can scarcely suspect that the Government has enemies in this
+aristocratic quarter?&rdquo; said Massingbred, smiling.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;We have them everywhere,&rdquo; was the brief answer, as he bowed and turned
+away.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I scarcely see how I'm to keep my appointment at Versailles to-morrow
+morning,&rdquo; said Massingbred, as he followed Martin up the spacious stairs.
+&ldquo;Happily, Czernavitz knows me, and will not misinterpret my absence.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Not to say that he may be unable himself to get there,&rdquo; said Martin. As
+he spoke, they had reached the door, opening which with his key, the
+Captain motioned to Massingbred to enter.
+</p>
+<p>
+Massingbred stopped suddenly, and in a voice of deep meaning said, &ldquo;Your
+father lives here?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yes,&mdash;what then?&rdquo; asked Martin.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Only that I have no right to pass his threshold,&rdquo; said the other, in a
+low voice. &ldquo;I was his guest once, and I 'm not sure that I repaid the
+hospitality as became me. You were away at the time.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You allude to that stupid election affair,&rdquo; said Martin. &ldquo;I can only say
+that I never did, never could understand it. My only feeling was one of
+gratitude to you for saving me from being member for the borough. Come
+along,&rdquo; said he, taking his arm; &ldquo;this is no time for your scruples, at
+all events.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;No, Martin, I cannot,&rdquo; said the other. &ldquo;I 'd rather walk up to one of
+those nine-pounders there than present myself to your lady-mother&mdash;&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;But you needn't. You are <i>my</i> guest; these are <i>my</i> quarters.
+You shall see nobody but myself till you leave this. Remember what the
+Captain told us; we are prisoners here.&rdquo; And without waiting for a reply,
+Martin pushed him before him into the room.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Two o'clock,&rdquo; said Massingbred, looking at his watch; &ldquo;and we are to be
+at Versailles by eight.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Well, leave all the care of that to me,&rdquo; said Martin; &ldquo;and do you throw
+yourself on the bed there, and take some rest. Without you prefer to sup
+first?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;No, an hour's sleep is what I stand most in need of; and so I 'll say
+good-night.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Massingbred said this less that he wanted repose than a brief interval to
+be alone with his own thoughts. And now, as he closed his eyes to affect
+sleep, it was really to commune with his own heart, and reflect over what
+had just occurred.
+</p>
+<p>
+Independently that he liked Czernavitz personally, he was sorry for a
+quarrel at such a moment. There was a great game about to be played, and a
+mere personal altercation seemed something small and contemptible in the
+face of such events. &ldquo;What will be said of us,&rdquo; thought he, &ldquo;but that we
+were a pair of hot-headed fools, thinking more of a miserable interchange
+of weak sarcasms than of the high destinies of a whole nation? And it was
+<i>my</i> fault,&rdquo; added he to himself; &ldquo;I had no right to reproach him
+with a calamity hard enough to bear, even without its being a reproach.
+What a strange thing is life, after all!&rdquo; thought he; &ldquo;everything of
+greatest moment that occurs in it the upshot of an accident,&mdash;my
+going to Ireland, my visit to the West, my election, my meeting with Kate
+Henderson, and now this duel.&rdquo; And, so ruminating, he dropped off into a
+sound sleep, undisturbed by sounds that might well have broken the
+heaviest slumber.
+</p>
+<p>
+<a name="link2HCH0008" id="link2HCH0008">
+<!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+</p>
+<div style="height: 4em;">
+<br /><br /><br /><br />
+</div>
+<h2>
+CHAPTER VIII. AN EVENING OF ONE OP THE &ldquo;THREE DAYS&rdquo;
+ </h2>
+<p>
+On the evening which witnessed these events Lady Dorothea's &ldquo;reception&rdquo;
+ had been more than usually brilliant. Numbers had come to show of how
+little moment they deemed this &ldquo;street disturbance,&rdquo; as they were pleased
+to call it; others, again, were curious to pick up in society the opinions
+formed on what was passing, among whom were several high in the favor of
+the Court and the confidence of the Government. All, as they arrived, had
+some little anecdote or adventure to relate as to the difficulties which
+beset them on the way,&mdash;the distances which they were obliged to
+travel, the obstructions and passwords and explanations which met them at
+every turn. These were all narrated in the easy, jocular tone of passing
+trifles, the very inconvenience of which suggested its share of amusement.
+</p>
+<p>
+As the evening wore on, even these became less frequent; the streets were
+already thinning, and, except in some remote, unimportant parts of the
+capital, the troops were in possession of all the thoroughfares. Of
+course, the great topic of conversation was the bold stroke of policy then
+enacting,&mdash;a measure which all pronounced wise and just, and
+eminently called for.
+</p>
+<p>
+To have heard the sentiments then uttered, the disparaging opinions
+expressed of the middle and humbler classes, the hopelessness of ever
+seeing them sufficiently impressed with their own inferiority, the
+adulation bestowed on the monarch and all around him, one might really
+have fancied himself back again at the Tuileries in the time of Louis the
+Fourteenth. All agreed in deeming the occasion an excellent one to give
+the people a salutary lesson; and it was really pleasant to see the warm
+interest taken by these high and distinguished persons in the fortunes of
+their less happy countrymen.
+</p>
+<p>
+To Lady Dorothea's ears no theme could be more grateful; and she moved
+from group to group, delighted to mingle her congratulations with those
+around, and exchange her hopes and aspirations and wishes with theirs.
+Kate Henderson, upon whom habitually devolved the chief part in these
+&ldquo;receptions,&rdquo; was excited and flurried in manner; a more than ordinary
+effort to please being dashed, as it were, by some secret anxiety, and the
+expectation of some coming event. Had there been any one to watch her
+movements, he might have seen the eagerness with which she listened to
+each new account of the state of the capital, and how impatiently she
+drank in the last tidings from the streets; nor less marked was the
+expression of proud scorn upon her features, as she heard the insulting
+estimate of the populace, and the vainglorious confidence in the soldiery.
+But more than all these was her haughty indignation as she listened to the
+confused, mistaken opinions uttered on every side as to the policy of the
+Government and the benevolent intentions of the king. Once, and only once,
+did she forget the prudent resolve she wished to impose upon herself; but
+temper and caution and reserve gave way, as she heard a very distinguished
+person amusing a circle around him by an unfair and unfaithful portraiture
+of the great leaders of '92. It was then, when stung by the odious epithet
+of <i>canaille</i> applied to those for whose characters she entertained a
+deep devotion, that she forgot everything, and in a burst of indignant
+eloquence overwhelmed and refuted the speaker. This was the moment, too,
+in which she replied to Villemart by a word of terrible ferocity. Had the
+red cap of Liberty itself been suddenly hoisted in that brilliant
+assemblage, the dread and terror which arose could scarcely have been
+greater.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Where are we?&rdquo; cried the Marquise de Longueville. &ldquo;I thought we were in
+the Place de Vendôme, and I find myself in the Faubourg St. Antoine!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Does my Lady know that her friend and confidante is a Girondist of the
+first water?&rdquo; said an ex-Minister.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Who could have suspected the spirit of Marat under the mask of Ninon de
+l'Enclos?&rdquo; muttered Villemart.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;What is this I hear, dearest Kate?&rdquo; cried the Duchesse de Mirecourt, as
+she drew the young girl's arm within her own. &ldquo;They tell me you have
+terrified every one,&mdash;that Madame de Soissons has gone home ill, and
+the old Chevalier de Gardonnes has sent for his confessor.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I have been very rash, very foolish,&rdquo; said Kate, as a deadly pallor came
+over her; &ldquo;but I could bear it no longer. Besides, what does it matter?
+They 'll hear worse, and bear it too, before three days are over.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Then it is all true?&rdquo; cried the Duchess, eagerly. &ldquo;You told Villemart
+that when the Government spoke with grape-shot, the people replied with
+the guillotine!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Not exactly,&rdquo; said Kate, with a faint smile. &ldquo;But are they all going?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Of course they are. You have frightened them almost to death; and I know
+you only meant it for jest,&mdash;one of those little half-cruel jests you
+were ever fond of. Come with me and say so,&mdash;come, dearest.&rdquo; And she
+drew her, as she spoke, into the crowded salon, now already a scene of
+excited leave-taking. The brilliant company, however, fell back as they
+came forward, and an expression of mingled dismay and compassion was
+turned towards the young Duchess, who with a kind of heroic courage drew
+Kate's arm closer within her own.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I am come to make an explanation, messieurs et mesdames,&rdquo; said the
+Duchess, with her most captivating smile; &ldquo;pray vouchsafe me a hearing. My
+friend&mdash;my dearest, best friend here&mdash;has, in a moment of
+sportive pleasantry, suffered herself to jest&mdash;&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;It was a jest, then?&rdquo; broke in Madame de Longueville, haughtily.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Just as that is,&rdquo; replied Kate, lifting her hand and pointing in the
+direction whence came a terrible crash of artillery, followed by the
+rattle of musketry.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Let us go,&mdash;let us away!&rdquo; was now heard in affrighted accents on
+every side; and the splendid assemblage, with less of ceremony than might
+be expected, began to depart. Lady Dorothea alone was ignorant of what had
+occurred, and witnessed this sudden leave-taking with amazement. &ldquo;You are
+surely not afraid?&rdquo; said she to one; &ldquo;there is nothing serious in all
+this.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;She has told us the reverse, my Lady,&rdquo; was the reply. &ldquo;We should be
+compromised to remain longer in her company.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Adieu, my Lady. I wish we left you in safer companionship.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Farewell, Madame, and pray be warned of your danger,&rdquo; whispered another.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Your Ladyship may be called upon to acquit debts contracted by another,
+if Mademoiselle continues a member of your family,&rdquo; said Villemart, as he
+bowed his departure.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Believe me, Madame, none of us include <i>you</i> in the terrible
+sentiments we have listened to.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+These, and a vast number of similar speeches attended the leave-taking of
+nearly each of her guests, till Lady Dorothea, confused, almost stunned by
+reiterated shocks, sat silently accepting these mysterious announcements,
+and almost imagining herself in all the bewilderment of a dream.
+</p>
+<p>
+Twice she made an effort to ask some explanation, but failed; and it was
+only as the Duchesse de Mirecourt drew nigh to say farewell, that in a
+faint, weak voice she said,&mdash;&ldquo;Can you tell me what all are hinting
+at, or am I only confusing myself with the terrible scenes without?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I 'd have prevented it had I been near. I only heard it when too late, my
+Lady,&rdquo; said the Duchess, sorrowfully.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Prevented what?&mdash;heard what?&rdquo; cried Lady Dorothea.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Besides, she has often said as much amongst ourselves; we only laughed,
+as indeed every one would do now, did not events present so formidable an
+aspect.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Who is she you speak of? Tell me, I beseech you. What does this mean?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I am the culprit, my Lady,&rdquo; said Kate, approaching with all the quiet
+stateliness of her peculiar manner. &ldquo;I have routed this gorgeous assembly,
+shocked your most distinguished guests, and horrified all whose sentiments
+breathe loyalty! I am sincerely sorry for my offence; and it is a grave
+one.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;<i>You&mdash;you</i> have dared to do this?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Too true, madam,&rdquo; rejoined Kate.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;How and to whom have you had the insolence&mdash;&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+She stopped, overcome by passion; and Kate replied,&mdash;&ldquo;To all who
+pleased to listen, my Lady, I have said what doubtless is not often
+uttered in such choice company, but what, if I mistake not greatly, their
+ears will grow familiar with erelong.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Nay, nay,&rdquo; said the Duchess, in a tone of apology, &ldquo;the matter is not so
+serious as all this. Every one now is terrified. This disturbance, the
+soldiery, the vast crowds that beset the streets, have all produced so
+much excitement that even a few words spoken at random are enough to cause
+fear. It is one of Kate's fancies to terrorize thus over weak minds. She
+has the cruel triumph of not knowing what fear is. In a word, it is a mere
+trifling event, sure to be forgotten in the midst of such scenes as we are
+passing through.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+This attempt at explanation, poured forth with rapid utterance, did not
+produce on Lady Dorothea the conviction it was intended to impose, and her
+Ladyship received the last adieus of the Duchess with a cold and stately
+formality; and then, as the door closed after her, turned to Kate
+Henderson, and said,&mdash;&ldquo;I want <i>your</i> explanation of all this.
+Let me have it.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;It is easily given, my Lady,&rdquo; said Kate, calmly. And then, in a voice
+that never trembled nor varied, she narrated briefly the scene which had
+just occurred, not extenuating in the slightest her own share in the
+transaction, or offering a single syllable of excuse.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And you, being who and what you are, dared thus to outrage the best blood
+of France!&rdquo; exclaimed Lady Dorothea, trembling all over with passion.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Perhaps, my Lady, if I sought for an apology, it would be in the fact of
+being who and what I am.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And do you imagine that after conduct such as this, after exposing me to
+a partnership in the shame that attaches to yourself, that you are any
+longer to enjoy the shelter of my roof?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;It never occurred to me to think of that, madam,&rdquo; said Kate, with an
+ill-repressed scorn.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Then it is for <i>me</i> to remind you of it,&rdquo; said her Ladyship,
+sternly. &ldquo;You shall, first of all, write me an humble apology for this
+vulgar tirade, this outrage upon my company, and then you shall leave the
+house. Sit down there, and write as I shall dictate to you.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Kate seated herself with an air of implicit obedience at a writing-table,
+and took up a pen.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Write,&rdquo; cried Lady Dorothea, sternly. &ldquo;Begin, 'My Lady.' No. 'I approach
+your Ladyship for the last time.' No, not that. 'If the sincere sorrow in
+which I pen these lines.' No. Do it yourself. You best can express the
+shame your heart should feel in such a moment. Let the words be your own!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Kate leaned over the paper and wrote rapidly for a few seconds. Having
+finished, she read over the lines, and seemed to reflect on them.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Show me that paper!&rdquo; cried Lady Dorothea, impatiently. But, without
+obeying the command, Kate said,&mdash;&ldquo;Your Ladyship will not be able to
+leave Paris for at least forty hours. By that time the Monarchy will have
+run its course in France. You will probably desire, however, to escape
+from the scenes of turbulence sure to ensue. This will secure you a free
+passage, whichever road you take.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;What raving is all this?&rdquo; said Lady Dorothea, snatching the paper from
+her hand, and then reading aloud in French,&mdash; &ldquo;'The authorities are
+required to aid and tender all assistance in their power to Lady Dorothea
+Martin and all who accompany her, neither giving nor suffering any
+opposition to be given to her or them in the prosecution of their
+journey.'
+</p>
+<p>
+(Signed) &ldquo;Jules Lagrange,
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;'Minister of Police <i>ad interim</i>'
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And this in your own hand, too!&rdquo; exclaimed Lady Dorothea, contemptuously.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yes, madam; but it will entitle it to the seal of the Prefecture, and
+entitle <i>you</i> to all that it professes.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;So that I have the honor to shelter within my walls a chief of this
+insurrection,&mdash;if it be worthy of such a name; one in the confidence
+of this stupid <i>canaille</i>, who fancy that the fall of a Monarchy is
+like a row in a <i>guinguette!</i>&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Your Ladyship is no longer in a position to question me or arraign my
+actions. Before two days are over, the pageant of a king will have passed
+off the stage, and men of a different stamp take the direction of affairs.
+One of these will be he whose name I have affixed to that paper,&mdash;not
+without due warranty to do so. Your Ladyship may or may not choose to
+avail yourself of it.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I spurn the imposition,&rdquo; said Lady Dorothea, tearing it in fragments. &ldquo;So
+poor a cheat could not deceive <i>me</i>. As for yourself&mdash;&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Oh, do not bestow a thought upon <i>me</i>, my Lady. I can suffice for my
+own guidance. I only wait for morning to leave this house.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And it is to a city in such a state as this you would confide yourself.
+Truly, mademoiselle, Republicanism has a right to be proud of you. You are
+no half-convert to its principles.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Am I again to say, my Lady, that your control over me has ceased?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;It has not. It shall not cease till I have restored you to the humble
+roof from which I took you,&rdquo; said Lady Dorothea, passionately. &ldquo;Your
+father is our creature; he has no other subsistence than what we
+condescend to bestow on him. He shall know, when you re-enter his doors,
+why and for what cause you are there. Till that time come, you are, as you
+have been, in my service.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;No, my Lady, the tie between us is snapped. Dependence is but a sad part
+at the best; but so long as it is coupled with a certain show of respect
+it is bearable. Destroy <i>that</i>, and it is mere slavery, abject and
+degrading. I cannot go back to your Ladyship's service.&rdquo; And she gave to
+the last word an emphasis of intense scorn.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You must and you shall,&rdquo; said Lady Dorothea. &ldquo;If <i>you</i> are forgetful
+of what it is your duty to remember, I am not. Here you shall remain;
+without,&rdquo; added she, in an accent of supreme contempt, &ldquo;your counsel and
+direction shall be sought after by the high and mighty individuals who are
+so soon to administer the affairs of this nation.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+The loud roll of a drum, followed by the louder clank of sabres and
+musketry, here startled the speakers; and Kate, hastening to the window,
+opened it, and stepped out upon the balcony. Day was just dawning; a gray
+half-light covered the sky, but the dark shadows of the tall houses still
+stretched over the Place. Here, now, the troops were all in motion; a
+sudden summons having roused them to form in rank. The hasty character of
+the movement showed that some emergency was imminent,&mdash;a fact
+confirmed by the frequent arrival and departure of orderlies at full
+speed.
+</p>
+<p>
+After a brief interval of preparation the infantry formed in column, and,
+followed by the artillery and cavalry, moved out of the Place at a quick
+step. The measured tramp of the foot-soldiers, the clattering noise of the
+train and the dragoons could be heard long after they had passed out of
+sight; and Kate stood listening eagerly as to what would come next, when
+suddenly a man in plain clothes rode hastily from one of the side-streets
+into the centre of the Place. He looked around him for a moment or two,
+and then disappeared. Within a few seconds after, a dull, indistinct sound
+seemed to rise from the ground, which swelled gradually louder and louder,
+and at last grew into the regular footfall of a great multitude moving in
+measured time; and now a vast crowd poured into the Place, silent and
+wordless. On they came from the various quarters that opened into the
+square,&mdash;men, for the most part clad in blouses or in the coarse garb
+of laborers. They were armed either with musket or sword, and in many
+instances wore the cross-belt of the soldier. They proceeded at once to
+barricade the square at its opening into the Rue de la Paix,&mdash;a work
+which they accomplished with astonishing speed and regularity; for, while
+Kate still looked, a formidable rampart was thrown up across the entire
+street, along which a line of armed men was stationed, every one of whom,
+by his attitude and gesture, betrayed the old discipline of a soldier's
+life. Orders were given and obeyed, movements made, and dispositions
+effected, with all the regularity and precision of regular troops; and by
+the ready obedience of all, and the steady attitude observed, it was easy
+to see that these men were trained to arms and to habits of discipline.
+Not less evident was it that they who commanded them were not new to such
+duties. But, more important than all such signs was the fact that here and
+there through the mass might be seen the uniform of a soldier, or the
+epaulette of an officer, showing that desertion to the ranks of the people
+had already begun.
+</p>
+<p>
+Kate was so occupied in attentive observation of the scene that she had
+not noticed the arrival of another person in the apartment, and whose
+voice now suddenly attracted her. It was Martin himself, hastily aroused
+from his bed by his servant, who in great alarm told him that the capital
+was in open revolt, the king's troops beaten back, and the people
+victorious everywhere. &ldquo;There 's not a moment to lose,&rdquo; cried he; &ldquo;we must
+escape while we can. The road to Versailles is yet in possession of the
+troops, and we can take that way.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Lady Dorothea, partly overcome by the late scene, partly stunned by the
+repeated shocks she experienced, made no reply whatever; and Martin,
+judging from the expression of her features the anxiety she was suffering,
+hastily added, &ldquo;Let me see Kate Henderson,&mdash;where is she?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Lady Dorothea merely pointed towards the balcony, but did not utter a
+word.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Oh, have I found you?&rdquo; said Martin, stepping out upon the balcony. &ldquo;You
+see what is doing,&mdash;I might say what is done,&rdquo; added he; &ldquo;for I
+believe the game is well-nigh decided. Nothing but an overwhelming force
+will now crush this populace. We must get away, and at once. Will you give
+the orders? Send for post-horses; tell them to pack up whatever they can,&mdash;direct
+everything, in fact. My Lady is too ill,&mdash;too much overcome to act,
+or think of anything. Our whole reliance is upon you.&rdquo; While he was yet
+uttering these broken, disjointed sentences, he had drawn Kate by the arm
+within the room, and now stood beside Lady Dorothea's chair. Her Ladyship
+raised her head and fixed her eyes upon Kate, who sustained the gaze
+calmly and steadily, nor by the slightest movement displayed one touch of
+any emotion. The glance, at first haughty and defiant, seemed at length to
+grow weaker under the unmoved stare of the young girl, and finally she
+bent down her head and sat as though overcome.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Come, Dora,&rdquo; said Martin, kindly, &ldquo;rouse yourself; you are always equal
+to an effort when necessity presses. Tell Kate here what you wish, and she
+'ll do it.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I want no aid,&mdash;no assistance, sir. Miss Henderson is her own
+mistress,&mdash;she may do what, or go where she pleases.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Martin made a sign to Kate not to mind what he believed to be the mere
+wandering of an over-excited brain; and then bending down over the chair,
+said, &ldquo;Dear Dora, we must be active and stirring; the people will soon be
+masters of the capital,&mdash;for a while, at least,&mdash;and there is no
+saying what excesses they will commit.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Do not offend Miss Henderson, sir,&rdquo; interposed Lady Dorothea; &ldquo;she has
+equal confidence in their valor and their virtue.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;What does this mean?&mdash;when did she fall into this state?&rdquo; asked he,
+eagerly. And although only spoken in a whisper, Lady Dorothea overheard
+them, and said,&mdash;&ldquo;Let <i>her</i> tell you. She can give you the very
+fullest explanation.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;But, Dora, this is no time for trifling; we are here, in the midst of an
+enraged populace and a maddened soldiery. There, listen!&mdash;that was
+artillery; and now, hear!&mdash;the bells of the churches are sounding the
+alarm.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;They are ringing the knell of the Monarchy!&rdquo; said Kate, solemnly.
+</p>
+<p>
+A hoarse, wild shout&mdash;aery like that of enraged wild beasts&mdash;arose
+from the Place beneath, and all rushed to the window to see what had
+occurred. It was a charge of heavy cavalry endeavoring to force the
+barricade; and now, vigorously repulsed by the defenders, men and horses
+were rolling on the ground in terrible confusion, while on the barricade
+itself a hand-to-hand conflict was raging.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Sharp work, by George!&rdquo; said a voice behind Kate's shoulder. She turned
+and saw Captain Martin, who had just joined them unobserved.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I thought you many a mile away,&rdquo; said Kate, in a whisper.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;So I should have been,&rdquo; replied he, in the same tone, &ldquo;but I was n't
+going to lose this. I knew it was to come off to-day, and I thought it
+would have been a thousand pities to be absent.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And are your wishes, then, with these gallant fellows?&rdquo; said she,
+eagerly. &ldquo;Do I hear you aright, that it was to aid them you remained?
+There! see how they bear down on the soldiery; they will not be
+restrained; they are crossing the barricade, and charging with the
+bayonet. It is only for liberty that men can fight thus. Oh that I were a
+man, to be amongst them!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+A stray shot from beneath here struck the architrave above their heads,
+and sent down a mass of plaster over them.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Come, Dora, this is needless peril,&rdquo; said Martin, drawing her within the
+room. &ldquo;If you will not leave this, at least do not expose yourself
+unnecessarily.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;But it is exactly to get away&mdash;to escape while there is time&mdash;that
+I came for,&rdquo; said the Captain. &ldquo;They tell me that the mob are getting the
+best of it, and, worse again, that the troops are joining them; so, to
+make sure, I 've sent off Fenton to the post for horses, and I 'm
+expecting him every moment. But here he is. Well, have you got the
+horses?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;No, sir: the horses have all been taken by the people to mount orderlies;
+the postmaster, too, has fled, and everything is in confusion. But if we
+had horses the streets are impassable; from here to the Boulevard there
+are no less than five barricades.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Then what is to be done?&rdquo; cried Martin.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;They say, sir,&rdquo; replied Fenton, &ldquo;that by gaining the outer Boulevard on
+foot, carriages and horses are easily found there, to reach Belleville,
+St. Germain, or Versailles.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;He is right,&rdquo; said the Captain; &ldquo;there is nothing else to be done. What
+do <i>you</i> think?&rdquo; said he, addressing Kate, who stood intently
+watching the movements in the Place beneath.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yes; do you agree with this plan?&rdquo; asked Martin, approaching her.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Look!&rdquo; cried she, eagerly, and not heeding the question; &ldquo;the troops are
+rapidly joining the people,&mdash;they come in numbers now,&mdash;and
+yonder is an officer in his uniform.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Shame on him!&rdquo; exclaimed Lady Dorothea, indignantly.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;So say I too,&rdquo; said Kate. &ldquo;He who wears a livery should not assume the
+port and bearing of a free man. This struggle is for liberty, and should
+only be maintained by the free!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;How are we to pass these barricades?&rdquo; cried Martin, anxiously.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I will be your guide, sir, if that be all,&rdquo; said Kate. &ldquo;You may trust me.
+I promise no more than I can perform.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;She speaks truly,&rdquo; said Lady Dorothea. &ldquo;Alas that we should see the day
+when we cannot reject the aid!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;There is a matter I want to speak to you about,&rdquo; said Martin, drawing his
+father aside, and speaking in a low, confidential tone. &ldquo;Massingbred&mdash;Jack
+Massingbred&mdash;is now here, in my room. I know all about my mother's
+dislike to him, and <i>he</i> knows it; indeed, he has as much as owned to
+me that he deserved it all. But what is to be done? We cannot leave him
+here.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;How came he to be here?&rdquo; asked Martin.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;He accompanied me from the Club, where, in an altercation of some sort,
+he had just involved himself in a serious quarrel. He came here to be
+ready to start this morning for Versailles, where the meeting was to take
+place; but indeed he had no thought of accepting shelter under our roof;
+and when he found where he was, it was with the greatest difficulty I
+could persuade him to enter. None of us anticipated such a serious turn of
+affairs as this; and now, of course, a meeting will be scarcely possible.
+What are we to do with him?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Ask him frankly to join us if we obtain the horses.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;But my mother?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I 'll speak to her,&mdash;but it were better you did it, Harry. These are
+not times to weigh scruples and balance difficulties. I don't myself think
+that Massingbred treated us fairly, but it is not now I 'd like to
+remember it. There, go; tell her what you have told me, and all will be
+well.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+The Captain drew nigh Lady Dorothea, and, leaning over her chair,
+whispered to her for some minutes. At first, a slight gesture of
+impatience burst from her, but afterwards she seemed to hear him calmly
+and tranquilly.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;It would seem as though the humiliations of this night are never to have
+an end,&rdquo; said she, with a sigh. &ldquo;But I'll bear my share of them.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Remember,&rdquo; said the other, &ldquo;that it was by no choice of <i>his</i> he
+came here. His foot was on the threshold before he suspected it.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Miss Henderson sent me, my Lady,&rdquo; said a servant, entering hastily, &ldquo;to
+say that there is not a minute to be lost. They are expecting an attack on
+the barricade in the Rue de la Paix, and we ought to pass through at
+once.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;By whose orders?&rdquo; began she, haughtily; then, checking herself suddenly,
+and in a voice weak and broken, added: &ldquo;I am ready. Give me your arm,
+Harry, and do not leave me. Where is Mr. Martin?&rdquo; asked she.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;He is waiting for your Ladyship at the foot of the stairs with another
+gentleman,&rdquo; said the servant.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;That must be Massingbred, for I told them to call him,&rdquo; said the Captain.
+</p>
+<p>
+When Lady Dorothea, supported by the arm of her son, had reached the gate,
+she found Martin and Massingbred standing to receive them, surrounded by a
+numerous escort of servants, each loaded with some portion of the family
+baggage.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;A hasty summons, sir,&rdquo; said she, addressing Massingbred, and thus
+abruptly avoiding the awkwardness of a more ceremonious meeting. &ldquo;A few
+hours back none of us anticipated anything like this. Will it end
+seriously, think you?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;There is every prospect of such, madam,&rdquo; said he, bowing respectfully to
+her salutation. &ldquo;Every moment brings fresh tidings of defection among the
+troops, while the Marshal is paralyzed by contradictory orders.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Is it always to be the fate of monarchy to be badly served in times of
+peril?&rdquo; said she, bitterly.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;It is very difficult to awaken loyalty against one's convictions of
+right, madam. I mean,&rdquo; added he, as a gesture of impatience broke from
+her, &ldquo;that these acts of the king, having no support from his real
+friends, are weak stimulants to evoke deeds of daring and courage.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;They are unworthy supporters of a Crown who only defend what they approve
+of. This is but Democracy at best, and smacks of the policy which has
+little to lose and everything to gain by times of trouble.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And yet, madam, such cannot be the case here; at least, it is assuredly
+not so in the instance of him who is now speaking with Miss Henderson.&rdquo;
+ And he pointed to a man who, holding the bridle of his horse on his arm,
+walked slowly at Kate's side in the street before the door.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And who is he?&rdquo; asked she, eagerly.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;The greatest banker in Paris, madam,&mdash;one of the richest capitalists
+of Europe,&mdash;ready to resign all his fortune in the struggle against a
+rule which he foresees intended to bring back the days of a worn-out,
+effete monarchy, rather than a system which shall invigorate the nation,
+and enrich it by the arts of commerce and trade.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;But his name&mdash;who is he?&rdquo; asked she, more impatiently.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Charles Lagrange, madam.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I have heard the name before. I have seen it somewhere lately,&rdquo; said she,
+trying to remember where and how.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You could scarcely have paid your respects at Neuilly, madam, without
+seeing him. He was, besides, the favored guest at Madame de Mirecourt's.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You would not imply, sir, that the Duchess condescended to any sympathy
+with this party?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;More than half the Court, madam, are against the Crown; I will not say,
+however, that they are, on that account, for the people.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;There! she is making a sign to us to follow her,&rdquo; said Martin, pointing
+towards Kate, who, still conversing with her companion, motioned to the
+others to come up.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;It is from that quarter we receive our orders,&rdquo; said Lady Dorothea,
+sneeringly, as she prepared to follow.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;What has she to do with it?&rdquo; exclaimed the Captain. &ldquo;To look at her, one
+would say she was deep in the whole business.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+A second gesture, more urgent than before, now summoned the party to make
+haste.
+</p>
+<p>
+Through the Place, crowded as it was by an armed and excited multitude,
+way was rapidly made for the little party who now issued from the door of
+the hotel. Kate Henderson walked in front, with Massingbred at her side
+talking eagerly, and by his gestures seeming as though endeavoring to
+extenuate or explain away something in his conduct; next came Lady
+Dorothea, supported between her husband and her son, and while walking
+slowly and with faltering steps, still carrying her head proudly erect,
+and gazing on the stern faces around her with looks of haughty contempt.
+After them were a numerous retinue of servants, with such effects as they
+had got hurriedly together,&mdash;a terror-struck set, scarcely able to
+crawl along from fear.
+</p>
+<p>
+As they drew nigh the barricade, some men proceeded to remove a heavy
+wagon which adjoined a house, and by the speed and activity of their
+movements, urged on as they were by the orders of one in command, it might
+be seen that the operation demanded promptitude.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;We are scarcely safe in this,&rdquo; cried the officer. &ldquo;See! they are making
+signs to us from the windows,&mdash;the troops are coming. If you pass out
+now, you will be between two fires.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;There is yet time,&rdquo; said Kate, eagerly. &ldquo;Our presence in the street, too,
+will delay them, and give you some minutes to prepare. And as for
+ourselves, we shall gain one of the side-streets easily enough.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Tie your handkerchief to your cane, sir,&rdquo; said the officer to
+Massingbred.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;My flag is ready,&rdquo; said Jack, gayly; &ldquo;I only hope they may respect it.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Now&mdash;now!&rdquo; cried Kate, with eagerness, and beckoning to Lady
+Dorothea to hasten, &ldquo;the passage is free, and not a second to be lost!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Are you not coming with us?&rdquo; whispered Martin to her, as they passed out.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yes; I'll follow. But,&rdquo; added she, in a lower tone, &ldquo;were the choice
+given me, it is here I 'd take my stand.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+She looked full at Massingbred as she spoke, and, bending down his head,
+he said, &ldquo;Had it been your place, it were mine also!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Quick,&mdash;quick, my Lady,&rdquo; said Kate. &ldquo;They must close up the passage
+at once. They are expecting an attack.&rdquo; And so saying, she motioned
+rapidly to Martin to move on.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;The woman is a fiend,&rdquo; said Lady Dorothea; &ldquo;see how her eyes sparkle, and
+mark the wild exultation of her features.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Adieu, sir,&mdash;adieu!&rdquo; said Kate, waving her hand to one who seemed
+the chief of the party. &ldquo;All my wishes are with you. Were I a man, my hand
+should guarantee my heart.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Come&mdash;come back!&rdquo; cried the officer. &ldquo;You are too late. There comes
+the head of the column.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;No, never&mdash;never!&rdquo; exclamed Lady Dorothea, haughtily; &ldquo;protection
+from such as these is worse than any death.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Give me the flag, then,&rdquo; cried Kate, snatching it from Massingbred's
+hand, and hastening on before the others. And now the heavy wagon had
+fallen back to its place, and a serried file of muskets peeped over it.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Where's Massingbred?&rdquo; asked the Captain, eagerly.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yonder,&mdash;where he ought to be!&rdquo; exclaimed Kate, proudly, pointing to
+the barricade, upon which, now, Jack was standing conspicuously, a musket
+on his arm.
+</p>
+<p>
+The troops in front were not the head of a column, but the advanced guard
+of a force evidently at some distance off, and instead of advancing on the
+barricade, they drew up and halted in triple file across the street. Their
+attitude of silent, stern defiance&mdash;for it was such&mdash;evoked a
+wild burst of popular fury, and epithets of abuse and insult were heaped
+upon them from windows and parapets.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;They are the famous Twenty-Second of the Line,&rdquo; said the Captain, &ldquo;who
+forced the Pont-Neuf yesterday and drove the mob before them.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;It is fortunate for us that we fall into such hands,&rdquo; said Lady Dorothea,
+waving her handkerchief as she advanced. But Kate had already approached
+the line, and now halted at a command from the officer. While she
+endeavored to explain how and why they were there, the cries and menaces
+of the populace grew louder and wilder. The officer, a very young
+subaltern, seemed confused and flurried; his eyes turned constantly
+towards the street from which they had advanced, and he seemed anxiously
+expecting the arrival of the regiment.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I cannot give you a convoy, Mademoiselle,&rdquo; he said; &ldquo;I. scarcely know if
+I have the right to let you pass. We may be attacked at any moment; for
+aught I can tell, <i>you</i> may be in the interests of the insurgents&mdash;&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;We are cut off, Lieutenant,&rdquo; cried a sergeant, running up at the moment.
+&ldquo;They have thrown up a barrier behind us, and it is armed already.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Lay down your arms, then,&rdquo; said Kate, &ldquo;and do not sacrifice your brave
+fellows in a hopeless straggle.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Listen not to her, young man, but give heed to your honor and your
+loyalty,&rdquo; cried Lady Dorothea. &ldquo;Is it against such an enemy as this French
+soldiers fear to advance?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Forward!&rdquo; cried the officer, waving his sword above his head. &ldquo;Let us
+carry the barricade!&rdquo; And a wild yell of defiance from the windows
+repeated the speech in derision.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You are going to certain death!&rdquo; cried Kate, throwing herself before him.
+&ldquo;Let <i>me</i> make terms for you, and they shall not bring dishonor on
+you.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Here comes the regiment!&rdquo; called out the sergeant. &ldquo;They have forced the
+barricade.&rdquo; And the quick tramp of a column, as they came at a run, now
+shook the street.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Remember your cause and your King, sir,&rdquo; cried Lady Dorothea to the
+officer.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Bethink you of your country,&mdash;of France,&mdash;and of Liberty!&rdquo; said
+Kate, as she grasped his arm.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Stand back!&mdash;back to the houses!&rdquo; said he, waving his sword.
+&ldquo;Voltigeurs, to the front!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+The command was scarcely issued, when a hail of balls rattled through the
+air. The defenders of the barricade had opened their fire, and with a
+deadly precision, too, for several fell at the very first discharge.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Back to the houses!&rdquo; exclaimed Martin, dragging Lady Dorothea along, who,
+in her eagerness, now forgot all personal danger, and only thought of the
+contest before her.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Get under cover of the troops,&mdash;to the rear!&rdquo; cried the Captain, as
+he endeavored to bear her away.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Back&mdash;back&mdash;beneath the archway!&rdquo; cried Kate, as, throwing her
+arms around Lady Dorothea, she lifted her fairly from the ground, and
+carried her within the deep recess of a <i>porte cochère</i>. Scarcely,
+however, had she deposited her in safety, than she fell tottering
+backwards and sank to the ground.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Good Heavens! she is struck,&rdquo; exclaimed Martin, bending over her.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;It is nothing,&mdash;a spent shot, and no more,&rdquo; said Kate, as she showed
+the bullet which had perforated her dress beneath the arm.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;A good soldier, by Jove!&rdquo; said the Captain, gazing with real admiration
+on the beautiful features before him; the faint smile she wore heightening
+their loveliness, and contrasting happily with their pallor.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;There they go! They are up the barricade already; they are over it,&mdash;through
+it!&rdquo; cried the Captain. &ldquo;Gallantly done!&mdash;gloriously done! No, by
+Jove! they are falling back; the fire is murderous. See how they bayonet
+them. The troops must win. They move together; they are like a wall! In
+vain, in vain; they cannot do it! They are beaten,&mdash;they are lost!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Who are lost?&rdquo; said Kate, in a half-fainting voice.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;The soldiers. And there 's Massingbred on the top of the barricade, in
+the midst of it all. I see his hat They are driven back&mdash;beaten&mdash;beaten!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Come in quickly,&rdquo; cried a voice from behind; and a small portion of the
+door was opened to admit them. &ldquo;The soldiers are retiring, and will kill
+all before them.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Let <i>me</i> aid you; it is <i>my</i> turn now,&rdquo; said Lady Dorothea,
+assisting Kate to rise. &ldquo;Good Heavens! her arm is broken,&mdash;it is
+smashed in two.&rdquo; And she caught the fainting girl in her arms.
+</p>
+<p>
+Gathering around, they bore her within the gate, and had but time to bar
+and bolt it when the hurried tramp without, and the wild yell of popular
+triumph, told that the soldiers were retreating, beaten and defeated.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And this to save me!&rdquo; said Lady Dorothea, as she stooped over her. And
+the scalding tears dropped one by one on Kate's cheek.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Tear this handkerchief, and bind it around my arm,&rdquo; said Kate, calmly;
+&ldquo;the pain is not very great, and there will be no bleeding, the doctors
+say, from a gun-shot wound.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I'll be the surgeon,&rdquo; said the Captain, addressing himself to the task
+with more of skill than might be expected. &ldquo;I 've seen many a fellow
+struck down who did n't bear it as calmly,&rdquo; muttered he, as he bent over
+her. &ldquo;Am I giving you any pain?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Not in the least; and if I were in torture, that glorious cheer outside
+would rally me. Hear!&mdash;listen!&mdash;the soldiers are in full
+retreat; the people, the noble-hearted people, are the conquerors!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Be calm, and think of yourself,&rdquo; said Lady Dorothea, mildly, to her;
+&ldquo;such excitement may peril your very life.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And it is worth a thousand lives to taste of it,&rdquo; said she, while her
+cheek flushed, and her dark eyes gleamed with added lustre.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;The street is clear now,&rdquo; said one of the servants to Martin, &ldquo;and we
+might reach the Boulevard with ease.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Let us go, then,&rdquo; said Lady Dorothea. &ldquo;Let us look to <i>her</i> and
+think of nothing till she be cared for.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+<a name="link2HCH0009" id="link2HCH0009">
+<!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+</p>
+<div style="height: 4em;">
+<br /><br /><br /><br />
+</div>
+<h2>
+CHAPTER IX. SOME CONFESSIONS OF JACK MASSINGBRED
+</h2>
+<p>
+Upon two several occasions have we committed to Jack Massingbred the task
+of conducting this truthful history; for the third time do we now purpose
+to make his correspondence the link between the past and what is to
+follow. We are not quite sure that the course we thus adopt is free from
+its share of inconvenience, but we take it to avoid the evils of
+reiteration inseparable from following out the same events from merely
+different points of view. There is also another advantage to be gained.
+Jack is before our readers; we are not. Jack is an acquaintance; we cannot
+aspire to that honor. Jack's opinions, right or wrong as they may be, are
+part and parcel of a character already awaiting their verdict. What he
+thought and felt, hoped, feared, or wished, are the materials by which he
+is to be judged; and so we leave his cause in his own hands.
+</p>
+<p>
+His letter is addressed to the same correspondent to whom he wrote before.
+It is written, too, at different intervals, and in different moods of
+mind. Like the letters of many men who practise concealment with the world
+at large, it is remarkable for great frankness and sincerity. He throws
+away his mask with such evident signs of enjoyment that we only wonder if
+he can ever resume it; but crafty men like to relax into candor, as
+royalty is said to indulge with pleasure in the chance moments of
+pretended equality. It is, at all events, a novel sensation; and even that
+much, in this routine life of ours, is something!
+</p>
+<p>
+He writes from Spa, and after some replies to matters with which we have
+no concern, proceeds thus:&mdash;
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Of the Revolution, then, and the Three Glorious Days as they are called,
+I can tell you next to nothing, and for this simple reason, that I was
+there fighting, shouting, throwing up barricades, singing the
+'Marseillaise,' smashing furniture, and shooting my 'Swiss,' like the
+rest. As to who beat the troops, forced the Tuileries, and drove Marmont
+back, you must consult the newspapers. Personal adventures I could give
+you to satiety, hairbreadth 'scapes and acts of heroism by the dozen; but
+these narratives are never new, and always tiresome. The serious
+reflectiveness sounds like humbug, and, if one treats them lightly, the
+flippancy is an offence. Jocular heroism is ever an insult to the reader.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You say, '<i>Que diable allait-il faire dans cette galère?</i>' and I
+answer, it was all <i>her</i> doing. Yes, Harry, <i>she</i> was there. I
+was thinking of nothing less in the world than a great 'blow for freedom,'
+as the 'Globe' has it. I had troubled my head wonderfully little about the
+whole affair. Any little interest I took was in the notion that if our
+'natural enemies,' the French, were to fall to and kill each other, there
+would be so much the fewer left to fight against us; but as to who was to
+get the upper hand, or what they were to do when they had it, I gave
+myself no imaginable concern. I had a vague, shadowy kind of impression
+that the government was a bad one, but I had a much stronger conviction
+that the people deserved no better. My leanings&mdash;my instincts, if you
+prefer it&mdash;were with the Crown. The mob and its sentiments are always
+repulsive. Popular enthusiasm is a great ocean, but it is an ocean of
+dirty water, and you cannot come out clean from the contact; and so I
+should have wished well to royalty, but for an accident,&mdash;a mere
+trifle in its way, but one quite sufficient, even on historic grounds, to
+account for a man's change of opinions. The troops shot my cab-horse, sent
+a bullet through poor 'Beverley,' and seriously damaged a new hat which I
+wore at the time, accompanying these acts with expressions the reverse of
+compliment or civility. I was pitched out into the gutter, and, most
+appropriately you will say, I got up a Radical, a Democrat, a Fourierist,&mdash;anything,
+in short, that shouts 'Down with Kings, and up with the Sovereign People!'
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;My principles&mdash;don't smile at the word&mdash;led me into a stupid
+altercation with a very pleasant acquaintance, and we parted to meet the
+next morning in hostility,&mdash;at least, such was our understanding; but
+by the time that our difference should have been settled, <i>I</i> was
+carried away on a stretcher to the Hôtel Dieu, wounded, and he was flung,
+a corpse, into the Seine. I intended to have been a most accurate narrator
+of events, journalizing for you, hour by hour, with all the stirring
+excitement of the present tense, but I cannot; the crash and the hubbub
+are still in my brain, and the infernal chaos of the streets is yet over
+me. Not to speak of my wound,&mdash;a very ugly sabre-cut in the neck,&mdash;severing
+I don't know what amount of nerves, arteries, and such-like 'small deer,'
+every one of which, however, has its own peculiar perils in the shape of
+aneurisms, tetanus, and so forth, in case I am not a miracle of patience,
+calmness, and composure.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;The Martins are nursing and comforting and chicken-brothing me to my
+heart's content, and La Henderson, herself an invalid, with a terrible
+broken arm, comes and reads to me from time to time. What a girl it is!
+Wounded in a street encounter, she actually carried Lady Dorothea into a
+porte-cochère, and when they had lost their heads in terror, could neither
+issue an order to the servants nor know what way to turn, she took the
+guidance of the whole party, obtained horses and carriages and an escort,
+escaped from Paris, and reached Versailles in the midst of flying
+courtiers and dismayed ministers, and actually was the very first to bring
+the tidings that the game of monarchy was up,&mdash;that the king had
+nothing left for it but an inglorious flight. To the Duchesse de
+Mire-court she made this communication, which it seems none of the
+court-followers had the courage or honesty to do before. The Duchess, in
+her terror, actually dragged her into the presence of the king, and made
+her repeat what she had said. The scene, as told me, was quite dramatic;
+the king took her hand to lead her to a seat, but it was unfortunately of
+the wounded arm, and she fainted. The sight of the wounded limb so
+affected the nerves of monarchy that he gave immediate orders to depart,
+and was off within an hour.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;How they found me out a patient in a ward of the Hôtel Dieu, rescued and
+carried me away with them, I have heard full half a dozen times, but I 'm
+far from being clear enough to repeat the story; and, indeed, when I try
+to recall the period, the only images which rise up before me are long
+ranges of white coverlids, pale faces, and groans and cries of suffering,
+with the dark curly head of a great master of torture peeping at me, and
+whom, I am told, is the Baron Dupuytren, the Surgeon-in-Chief. After these
+comes a vision of litters and <i>charrettes</i>,&mdash;sore joltings and
+stoppages to drink water&mdash;But I shall rave if I go on. Better I
+should tell you of my pleasant little bedroom here, opening on a small
+garden, with a tiny fountain trying to sprinkle the wild myrtle and
+blush-roses around it, and sportively sending its little plash over me, as
+the wind wafts it into my chamber. My luxurious chair and easy-cushioned
+sofa, and my table littered with everything, from flowers to French
+romances; not to speak of the small rustic seat beside the window, where
+she has been sitting the last hour, and has only quitted to give me time
+to write this to you. I know it&mdash;I see it&mdash;all you can say, all
+that you are saying at this moment, is fifty times more forcibly echoing
+within my own heart, and repeating in fitful sentences: 'A ruined man&mdash;a
+broken fortune&mdash;a mad attachment&mdash;a life of struggle,
+difficulty, and failure!' But why should it be failure? Such a girl for a
+wife ought in itself to be an earnest of success. Are not her qualities
+exactly those that do battle with the difficulties of fortune? Self-denial&mdash;ambition&mdash;courage&mdash;an
+intense, an intuitive knowledge of the world&mdash;and then, a
+purpose-like devotion to whatever she undertakes, that throws an air of
+heroism over all her actions.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Birth&mdash;blood&mdash;family connections&mdash;what have they done for
+me, except it be to entail upon me the necessity of selecting a career
+amidst the two or three that are supposed to suit the well-born? I may be
+a Life Guardsman, or an unpaid attaché, but I must not be a physician or a
+merchant. Nor is it alone that certain careers are closed against us, but
+certain opinions too. I must not think ill of the governing class,&mdash;I
+must never think well of the governed.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Well, Harry, the colonies are the remedy for all this. There, at least, a
+man can fashion existence as arbitrarily as he can the shape and size of
+his house. None shall dictate his etiquette, no more than his
+architecture; and I am well weary of the slavery of this old-world life,
+with our worship of old notions and old china, both because they are
+cracked, damaged, and useless. I 'll marry her. I have made up my mind on
+'t. Spare me all your remonstrances, all your mock compassion. Nor is it
+like a fellow who has not seen the world in its best gala suit, affecting
+to despise rank, splendor, and high station. <i>I have</i> seen the thing.
+I have cantered my thoroughbred along Rotten Row, eaten my truffled
+dinners in Belgravia, whispered my nonsense over the white shoulders of
+the fairest and best-born of England's daughters. I know to a decimal
+fraction the value of all these; and, what 's more, I know what one pays
+for them,&mdash;the miserable vassalage, the poor slavery of mind, soul,
+and body they cost!
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;It is the terror of exclusion here, the dread of coldness there&mdash;the
+possibility of offence to 'his Grace' on this side, or misconception by
+'her Ladyship' on that&mdash;sway and rule a man so that he may neither
+eat, drink, nor sleep without a 'Court Guide' in his pocket. I 've done
+with it! now and forever,&mdash;I tell you frankly,&mdash;I return no more
+to this bondage.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I have written a farewell address to my worthy constituents of
+Oughterard. I have told them that, 'feeling an instinct of independence
+within me, I can no longer remain their representative; that, as a man of
+honor, I shrink from the jobbery of the little borough politicians, and,
+as a gentleman, I beg to decline their intimacy.' They took me for want of
+a better&mdash;I leave them for the same reason.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;To my father I have said: 'Let us make a compromise. As your son I have a
+claim on the House. Now, what will you give for my share? I 'll neither
+importune you for place, nor embarrass you with solicitations for
+employment. Help me to stock my knapsack, and I 'll find my road myself.'
+<i>She</i> knows nothing of these steps on my part; nor shall she, till
+they have become irrevocable. She is too proud ever to consent to what
+would cost me thus heavily; but the expense once incurred,&mdash;the
+outlay made,&mdash;she cannot object to what has become the law of my
+future life.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I send off these two documents to-night; this done, I shall write to her
+an offer of marriage. What a fever I 'm in! and all because I feel the
+necessity of defending myself to <i>you</i>,&mdash;to you of all men the
+most headstrong, reckless, and self-indulgent,&mdash;a fellow who never
+curbed a caprice nor restrained a passing fancy; and yet you are just the
+man to light your cigar, and while you puff away your blue cloud, mutter
+on about rashness, folly, insanity, and the rest of it, as if the state of
+your bank account should make that wisdom in <i>you</i>, which with <i>me</i>
+is but mere madness! But I tell you, Harry, it is your very thousands per
+annum that preclude you from doing what I can. It is your house in town,
+your stud at Tattersall's, your yacht at Cowes, your grouse-lodge in the
+Highlands, that tie and fetter you to live like some scores of others,
+with whom you have n't one solitary sympathy, save in income! You are
+bound up in all the recognizances of your wealth to dine stupidly, sup
+languidly, and sink down at last into a marriage of convenience,&mdash;to
+make a wife of her whom 'her Grace' has chosen for you without a single
+speculation in the contract save the thought of the earl you will be
+allied to, and the four noble families you 'll have the right to go in
+mourning for.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And what worse than cant it is to talk of what they call an indiscreet
+match! What does&mdash;what can the world know as to the reasons that
+impel you, or me, or anybody else, to form a certain attachment? Are they
+acquainted with our secret and most hidden emotions? Do they understand
+the project of life we have planned to ourselves? Have they read our utter
+weariness and contempt for forms that <i>they</i> venerate, and social
+distinctions that <i>they</i> worship? I am aware that in some cases it
+requires courage to do this; and in doing it a man virtually throws down
+the glove to the whole world, and says, 'This woman's love is to me more
+than all of you'&mdash;and so say I at this moment. I must cry halt, I
+see, Harry. I have set these nerves at work in my wound, and the pain is
+agony. Tomorrow&mdash;to-night, if I 'm able&mdash;I shall continue.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Midnight.&rdquo; They have just wished me good-night, after having spent the
+evening here reading out the newspapers for me, commenting upon them, and
+exerting themselves to amuse me in a hundred good-natured ways. You would
+like this same stately old Lady Dorothea. She is really 'Grande Dame' in
+every respect,&mdash;dress, air, carriage, gesture, even her slow and
+measured speech is imposing, and her prejudices, uttered as they are in
+such perfect sincerity of heart, have something touching about them, and
+her sorrowful pity for the mob sounded more gracefully than Kate's
+enthusiastic estimate of their high deservings. It does go terribly
+against the grain to fancy an alliance between coarse natures and noble
+sentiments, and to believe in the native nobility of those who never touch
+soap! I have had a kind of skirmish with La Henderson upon this theme
+to-night. She was cross and out of temper, and bore my bantering badly.
+The fact is, she is utterly disgusted at the turn things have taken in
+France; and not altogether without reason, since, after all their bluster
+and bloodshed and barricades, they have gone back to a monarchy again.
+They barred out the master to make 'the head usher' top of the school. Let
+us see if he won't be as fond of the birch as his predecessor. Like all
+mutineers, they found they could n't steer the ship when they had murdered
+the captain! How hopeless it makes one of humanity to see such a spectacle
+as this, Harry, and how low is one's estimate of the species after such
+experience! You meet some half-dozen semi-bald, spectacled old gentlemen
+in society, somewhat more reserved than the rest of the company, fond of
+talking to each other, and rather distrustful of strangers; you find them
+slow conversers at dinner, sorry whist-players in the drawing-room; you
+are told, however, that one is a President of the Council, another the
+Secretary for Foreign Affairs, and a third something equally important.
+You venerate them accordingly, while you mutter the old Swede's apothegm
+about the 'small intelligences' that rule mankind. Wait awhile! There is a
+row in the streets: a pickpocket has appealed to the public to rescue him
+from the ignoble hands of the police; an escaped felon has fired at the
+judge who sentenced him, in the name of Liberty and Fraternity. No matter
+what the cause, there <i>is</i> a row. The troops are called out; some are
+beaten, some join the insurgents. The government grows frightened&mdash;temporizes&mdash;offers
+terms&mdash;and sends for more soldiers. The people&mdash;I never clearly
+knew what the word meant&mdash;the people make extravagant demands, and
+will not even give time to have them granted,&mdash;in a word, the whole
+state is subverted, the king, if there be one, in flight, the royal family
+missing, the ministers nowhere! No great loss you 'll say, if the four or
+five smooth-faced imbecilities we have spoken of are not to the fore! But
+there is your error, Harry,&mdash;your great error. These men, used to
+conduct and carry on the government, cannot be replaced. The new
+capacities do nothing but blunder, and maybe issue contradictory orders
+and impede each other's actions. To improvise a Secretary of State is
+about as wise a proceeding as to take at hazard a third-class passenger
+and set him to guide the engine of a train. The only difference is that
+the machinery of state is ten thousand times more complex than that of a
+steam-engine, and the powers for mischief and misfortune in due
+proportion.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;But why talk of these things? I have had enough and too much of them
+already this evening; women, too, are unpleasant disputants in politics.
+They attach their faith to persons, not parties. Miss Henderson is,
+besides, a little spoiled by the notice of those maxim-mongers who write
+leaders in the 'Débats, and articles for the 'Deux Mondes.' They have, or
+affect to have, a kind of pitying estimate for our English constitutional
+forms, which is rather offensive. At least, she provoked me, and I am
+relapsing into bad temper, just by thinking of it.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You tell me that you once served with Captain Martin, and I see you
+understand him; not that it requires much study to do so. You say he was
+reckoned a good officer; what a sneer is that on the art military!
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;There are, however, many suitable qualities about him, and he certainly
+possesses the true and distinctive element of a gentleman,&mdash;he knows
+how to be idle. Ay, Harry, that is a privilege that your retired banker or
+enriched cotton-spinner never attains to. They must be up and doing,&mdash;where
+there is nothing to do. They carry the spirit of the counting-house and
+the loom into society with them, and having found a pleasure in business,
+they want to make a business of pleasure. Now, Martin understands idling
+to perfection. His tea and toast, his mutton cutlet, and his mustachios
+are abundant occupation for him. With luncheon about two o'clock, he
+saunters through the stables, sucking a lighted cigar, filing his nails,
+and admiring his boots, till it 's time to ride out. He comes to me about
+nine of an evening, and we play piquet till I get sleepy; after which he
+goes to 'the rooms,' and, I believe, plays high; at least, I suspect so;
+for he has, at times, the forced calm&mdash;that semi-jocular resignation&mdash;one
+sees in a heavy loser. He has been occasionally, too, probing me about
+Merl,&mdash;you remember the fellow who had the rooms near Knightsbridge,&mdash;so
+that I opine he has been dabbling in loans. What a sorry spectacle such a
+creature as this in the toils of the Israelite, for he is the 'softest of
+the soft.' I see it from the effect La Henderson has produced upon him. He
+is in love with her,&mdash;actually in love. He even wanted to make me his
+confidant&mdash;and I narrowly escaped the confession&mdash;only yesterday
+evening. Of course, he has no suspicion of my attachment in the same
+quarter, so that it would be downright treachery in me to listen to his
+avowal. Another feeling, too, sways me, Harry,&mdash;I don't think I could
+hear a man profess admiration for the woman that I mean to marry, without
+the self-same sense of resentment I should experience were I already her
+husband. I 'm certain I 'd shoot him for it.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;La belle Kate and I parted coldly&mdash;dryly, I should call it&mdash;this
+evening. I had fancied she was above coquetry, but she is not. Is any
+woman? She certainly gave the Captain what the world would call
+encouragement all the night; listened attentively to tiresome
+tiger-huntings and stories of the new country; questioned him about his
+Mahratta campaigns, and even hinted at how much she would like an Indian
+life. Perhaps the torment she was inflicting on Lady Dorothea amused her;
+perhaps it was the irritation she witnessed in me gave the zest to this
+pastime. It is seldom that she condescends to be either amused or amusing;
+and I own it is a part does not suit her. She is a thousand times more
+attractive sitting over her embroidery-frame, raising her head at times to
+say a few words,&mdash;ever apposite and well chosen,&mdash;always simple,
+too, and to the purpose; or even by a slight gesture bearing agreement
+with what is said around her; till, with a sudden impulse, she pours forth
+fast, rapidly, and fluently some glowing sentiment of praise or censure,
+some glorious eulogy of the good, or some withering depreciation of the
+wrong. Then it is that you see how dark those eyes can be, how deep-toned
+that voice, and with what delicacy of expression she can mould and fashion
+every mood of mind, and give utterance to sentiments that till then none
+have ever known how to embody.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;It is such a descent to her to play coquette! Cleopatra cannot&mdash;should
+not be an Abigail. I am low and depressed to-night; I scarcely know why:
+indeed, I have less reason than usual for heavy-heartedness. These people
+are singularly kind and attentive to me, and seem to have totally
+forgotten how ungratefully once before I repaid their civilities. What a
+stupid mistake do we commit in not separating our public life from our
+social one, so as to show that our opinions upon measures of state are
+disconnected with all the sentiments we maintain for our private
+friendships. I detect a hundred sympathies, inconceivable points of
+contact, between these people and myself. We pass hours praising the same
+things, and abusing the same people; and how could it possibly sever our
+relations that I would endow Maynooth when they would pull it down, or
+that I liked forty-shilling freeholders better than ten-pound
+householders? You 'll say that a certain earnestness accompanies strong
+convictions, and that when a man is deeply impressed with some supposed
+truths, he 'll not measure his reprobation of those who assail them. But a
+lawyer does all this, and forfeits nothing of the esteem of 'his learned
+brother on the opposite side.' Nay, they exchange very-ugly knocks at
+times, and inflict very unseemly marks even with the gloves on; still they
+go homeward, arm-in-arm, after, and laugh heartily at both plaintiff and
+defendant. By Jove! Harry, it may sound ill, but somehow it seems as
+though to secure even a moderate share of enjoyment in this life one must
+throne Expediency in the seat of Principle. I 'll add the conclusion
+to-morrow, and now say good-night.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Three days have passed over since I wrote the last time to you, and it
+would require as many weeks were I to chronicle all that has passed
+through my mind in the interval. Events there have been few; but
+sensations&mdash;emotions, enough for a lifetime. Nor dare I recall them!
+Faintly endeavoring to trace a few broken memories, my pains of mind and
+body come back again, so that you must bear with me if I be incoherent,
+almost unintelligible.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;The day after I wrote to you, I never saw her. My Lady, who came as usual
+to visit me in the day, said something about Miss Henderson having a
+headache. Unpleasant letters from her family&mdash;obliged to give up the
+day to answering them; but all so confused and with such evident
+constraint as to show me that something disagreeable loomed in view.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;The Captain dropped in about four o'clock, and as the weather was
+unfavorable, we sat down to our party of piquet. By a little address, I
+continued to lose nearly every game, and so gradually led him into a
+conversation while we played; but I soon saw that he only knew something
+had occurred 'upstairs,' but knew not what.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;' I suspect, however,' added he, 'it is only the old question as to
+Kate's going away.' &ldquo;'Going away! Going where?' cried I.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;'Home to her father; she is resolutely bent upon it,&mdash;has been so
+ever since we left Paris. My mother, who evidently&mdash;but on what score
+I know not&mdash;had some serious difference with her, is now most eager
+to make concessions, and would stoop to&mdash;what for her is no trifle&mdash;even
+solicitation to induce her to stay, has utterly failed; so, too, has my
+father. Persuasion and entreaty not succeeding, I suspect&mdash;but it is
+only suspicion&mdash;that they have had recourse to parental authority,
+and asked old Henderson to interfere. At least, a letter has come this
+morning from the West of Ireland, for Kate, which I surmise to be in his
+hand. She gave it, immediately on reading it, to my mother, and I could
+detect in her Ladyship's face, while she perused it, unmistakable signs of
+satisfaction. When she handed it back, too, she gave a certain
+condescending smile, which, in my mother, implies victory, and seems to
+say, &ldquo;Let us be friends now,&mdash;I 'm going to signal&mdash;cease
+firing.&rdquo;'
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;'And Kate, did she make any remark&mdash;say anything?' &ldquo;'Not a syllable.
+She folded up the document, carefully and steadily, and placed it in her
+work-box, and then resumed her embroidery in silence. I watched her
+narrowly, while I affected to read the paper, and saw that she had to rip
+out half she had done. After a while my mother said,&mdash;&ldquo;'&rdquo;You 'll not
+answer that letter to-day, probably?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;'"I mean to do so, my Lady,&rdquo; said she; &ldquo;and, with your permission, will
+beg you to read my reply.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;'"Very well,&rdquo; said my mother, and left the room. I was standing outside
+on the balcony at the time, so that Kate believed, after my mother's
+departure, she was quite alone. It was then she opened the letter, and
+re-read it carefully. I never took my eyes off her; and yet what was
+passing in her mind, whether joy, grief, disappointment, or pleasure, I
+defy any man to declare; nor when, having laid it down once more, she took
+up her work, not a line or a lineament betrayed her. It was plain enough
+the letter was no pleasant one, and I expected to have heard her sigh
+perhaps, or at least show some sign of depression; but no, she went on
+calmly, and at last began to sing, in a low, faint voice, barely audible
+where I stood, one of her little barcarole songs she is so fond of; and if
+there was no sorrow in her own heart, by Jove! she made mine throb heavily
+as I listened! I stood it as long as I was able, and then coughed to show
+that I was there, and entered the room. She never lifted her head, or
+noticed me, not even when I drew a chair close to her, and sat down at her
+side.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;'I suppose, Massingbred,' said he, after a pause, 'you 'll laugh at me,
+if I tell you I was in love with the Governess! Well, I should have
+laughed too, some six months ago, if any man had prophesied it; but the
+way I put the matter to myself is this: If I do succeed to a good estate,
+I have a right to indulge my own fancy in a wife; if I don't,&mdash;that
+is, if I be a ruined man,&mdash;where 's the harm in marrying beneath me?'
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;'Quite right, admirably argued,' said I, impatiently; 'go on.'
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;'I 'm glad you agree with me,' said he, with the stupid satisfaction of
+imbecility. 'I thought I had reduced the question to its very narrowest
+bounds.'
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;'So you have; go on,' cried I.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;'"Miss Henderson,&rdquo; said I,&mdash;for I determined to show that I was
+speaking seriously, and so I did n't call her Kate,&mdash; &ldquo;Miss
+Henderson, I want to speak to you. I have been long seeking this
+opportunity; and if you will vouchsafe me a few minutes now, and hear me,
+on a subject upon which all my happiness in life depends&mdash;&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;'When I got that far, she put her work down on her knee, and stared at me
+with those large, full eyes of hers so steadily&mdash;ay, so haughtily,
+too&mdash;that I half wished myself fifty miles away.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;'"Captain Martin,&rdquo; said she, in a low, distinct voice, &ldquo;has it ever
+occurred to you in life to have, by a mere moment of reflection, a sudden
+flash of intelligence, saved yourself from some step, some act, which, if
+accomplished, had brought nothing but outrage to your feeling, and insult
+to your self-esteem? Let such now rescue you from resuming this theme.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;'"But you# don't understand me,&rdquo; said I. &ldquo;What I wish to say&mdash;&rdquo; Just
+at that instant my father came into the room in search of her, and I made
+my escape to hide the confusion that I felt ready to overwhelm me.'
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;'And have you not seen her since?'
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;'No. Indeed, I think it quite as well, too. She 'll have time to think
+over what I said, and see what a deuced good offer it is; for though I
+know she was going to make objections about inequality of station and all
+that at the time, reflection will bring better thoughts.'
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;'And she 'll consent, you think?'
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;'I wish I had a bet on it,' said he.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;'So you shall, then,' said I, endeavoring to seem thoroughly at my ease.
+'It's a very unworthy occasion for a wager, Martin; but I'll lay five
+hundred to one she refuses you.'
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;'Taken, and booked,' cried he, writing it down in his note-book. &ldquo;I only
+regret it is not in thousands.'
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;'So it should be, if I could honestly stake what I have n't got.'
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;'You are so sanguine of winning? '
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;' So certain, you ought to say.'
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;' Of course you use no influence against me,&mdash;you take no step of
+any kind to affect her decision.'
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;'Certainly not.'
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;'Nor are you&mdash;But,' added he, laughing, 'I need n't make that
+proviso. I was going to say, you are not to ask her yourself.'
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;'I 'll even promise you that, if you like,' said I.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;'Then what can you mean?' said he, with a puzzled look. 'But whatever it
+be, I can stand the loss. I 've won very close to double as much from you
+this evening.'
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;'And as to the disappointment?'
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;'Oh, <i>you</i> 'll not mention it, I 'm certain, neither will she, so
+none will be the wiser; and, after all, the real bore in all these cases
+is the gossip.' And with this consolatory reflection he left me to dress
+for dinner. How well bred a fellow seems who has no feeling, but just tact
+enough to detect the tone of the world and follow it! That's Martin's
+case, and his manners are perfect! After he was gone, I was miserable for
+not having quarrelled with him,&mdash;said something outrageous, insolent,
+and unbearable. That he should have dared to insult the young girl by such
+presumption as the offer of <i>his</i> hand is really too much. What
+difference of station&mdash;wide as the poles asunder&mdash;could compare
+with their real inequality? The fop, the idler, the incompetent, to aspire
+to <i>her!</i> Even his very narrative proclaimed his mean nature,
+wandering on, as it did, from a lounge on the balcony to an offer of
+marriage!
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Now, to conclude this wearisome story&mdash;and I fancy, Harry, that
+already you half deem me a fitting rival for the tiresome Captain,&mdash;but
+to finish, Martin came early into my room, and laying a bank-note for £100
+on the bed, merely added, 'You were right; there's your money.' I'd have
+given double the sum to hear the details of this affair,&mdash;in what
+terms the refusal was conveyed,&mdash;on what grounds she based it; but he
+would not afford me the slightest satisfaction on any of these points.
+Indeed, he displayed more vigor of character than I suspected in him, in
+the way he arrested my inquiries. He left this for Paris immediately
+after, so that the mystery of that interview will doubtless remain
+impenetrable to me.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;We are all at sixes and sevens to-day. Old Martin, shocked by some
+tidings of Ireland that he chanced upon in the public papers, I believe,
+has had a stroke of paralysis, or a seizure resembling that malady. Lady
+Dorothea is quite helpless from terror, and but for Kate, the whole
+household would be in utter chaos and disorganization; but she goes about,
+with her arm in a sling, calm and tranquil, but with the energy and
+activity of one who feels that all depends upon her guidance and
+direction. The servants obey her with a promptitude that proclaims
+instinct; and even the doctor lays aside the mysterious jargon of his
+craft, and condescends to talk sense to her. I have not seen her; passing
+rumors only reach me in my solitude, and I sit here writing and brooding
+alternately.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;P. S. Martin is a little better; no immediate danger to life, but slight
+hopes of ultimate recovery. I was wrong as to the cause. It was a
+proclamation of outlawry against his son, the Captain, which he read in
+the 'Times.' Some implacable creditor or other had pushed his claim so
+far, as I believe is easy enough to do nowadays; and poor Martin, who
+connected this stigma with all the disgrace that once accompanied such a
+sentence, fell senseless to the ground, and was taken up palsied. He is
+perfectly collected and even tranquil now, and they wheeled me in to sit
+with him for an hour or so. Lady Dorothea behaves admirably; the first
+shock overwhelmed her, but that passed off, and she is now all that could
+be imagined of tenderness and zeal.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Kate I saw but for a second. She asked me to write to Captain Martin, and
+request him to hasten home. It was no time to trifle with her; so I simply
+promised to do so, adding,&mdash;&ldquo;'<i>You,</i> I trust, will not leave
+this at such a moment?'
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;'Assuredly not,' said she, slightly coloring at what implied my knowledge
+of her plans.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;'Then all will go on well in that case,' said I.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;'I never knew that I was reckoned what people call lucky,' said she,
+smiling. 'Indeed, most of those with whom I have been associated in life
+might say the opposite.' And then, without waiting to hear me, she left
+the room.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;My brain is throbbing and my cheeks burning; some feverish access is upon
+me. So I send off this ere I grow worse.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Your faithful friend,
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Jack Massingbred.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+<a name="link2HCH0010" id="link2HCH0010">
+<!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+</p>
+<div style="height: 4em;">
+<br /><br /><br /><br />
+</div>
+<h2>
+CHAPTER X. HOW ROGUES AGREE!
+</h2>
+<p>
+Leaving the Martins in their quiet retreat at Spa, nor dwelling any longer
+on a life whose daily monotony was unbroken by an incident, we once more
+turn our glance westward. Were we assured that our kind readers'
+sympathies were with us, the change would be a pleasure to us, since it is
+there, in that wild mountain tract, that pathless region of fern and wild
+furze, that we love to linger, rambling half listlessly through silent
+glens and shady gorges, or sitting pensively on the storm-lashed shore,
+till sea and sky melt into one, and naught lowers through the gloom save
+the tall crags above us.
+</p>
+<p>
+We are once more back again at the little watering-place of Kilkieran, to
+which we introduced our readers in an early chapter of this narrative; but
+another change has come over that humble locality. The Osprey's Nest, the
+ornamented villa, on which her Ladyship had squandered so lavishly good
+money and bad taste, was now an inn! A vulgar sign-board, representing a
+small boat in a heavy sea, hung over the door, with the words &ldquo;The
+Corragh&rdquo; written underneath. The spacious saloon, whose bay-windows opened
+on the Atlantic, was now a coffee-room, and the small boudoir that
+adjoined it&mdash;desecration of desecrations&mdash;the bar!
+</p>
+<p>
+It needs not to have been the friend or favored guest beneath a roof where
+elegance and refinement have prevailed to feel the shock at seeing them
+replaced by all that ministers to coarse pleasure and vulgar association.
+The merest stranger cannot but experience a sense of disgust at the
+contrast. Whichever way you turned, some object met the eye recalling past
+splendor and present degradation; indeed, Toby Shea, the landlord, seemed
+to feel as one of his brightest prerogatives the right of insulting the
+memory of his predecessors, and throwing into stronger antithesis the
+&ldquo;former&rdquo; and the &ldquo;now.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Here ye are now, sir, in my Lady's own parlor; and that's her bedroom,
+where I left your trunk,&rdquo; said he, as he ushered in a newly arrived
+traveller, whose wet and road-stained drapery bore traces of an Irish
+winter's day. &ldquo;Mr. Scanlan told me that your honor would be here at four
+o'clock, and he ordered dinner for two, at five, and a good dinner you 'll
+have.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;There; let them open my traps, and fetch me a pair of slippers and a
+dressing-gown,&rdquo; broke in the traveller; &ldquo;and be sure to have a good fire
+in my bedroom. What an infernal climate! It has rained since the day I
+landed at Dublin; and now that I have come down here, it has blown a
+hurricane besides. And how cold this room is!&rdquo; added he, shuddering.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;That's all by reason of them windows,&rdquo; said Toby,&mdash;&ldquo;French windows
+they call them; but I'll get real Irish sashes put up next season, if I
+live. It was a fancy of that ould woman that built the place to have
+nothing that was n't foreign.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;They are not popular, then,&mdash;the Martins?&rdquo; asked the stranger.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Popular!&rdquo; echoed Toby. &ldquo;Begorra, they are not. Why would they be? Is it
+rack-renting, process sarving, extirminating, would make them popular?
+Sure we're all ruined on the estate. There isn't a mother's son of us
+might n't be in jail; and it's not Maurice's fault, either,&mdash;Mr.
+Scanlan's, I mean. Your honor's a friend of his, I believe,&rdquo; added he,
+stealthily. The stranger gave a short nod. &ldquo;Sure he only does what he's
+ordered; and it's breaking his heart it is to do them cruel things they
+force him to.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Was the management of the estate better when they lived at home?&rdquo; asked
+the stranger.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Some say yes, more says no. I never was their tenant myself, for I lived
+in Oughterard, and kept the 'Goose and Griddle' in John Street; but I
+believe, if the truth was told, it was always pretty much the same. They
+were azy and moderate when they did n't want money, but ready to take your
+skin off your back when they were hard up.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And is that their present condition?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I think it is,&rdquo; said he, with a confident grin. &ldquo;They 're spending
+thousands for hundreds since they went abroad; and that chap in the
+dragoons&mdash;the Captain they call him&mdash;sells a farm, or a plot of
+ground, just the way ye 'd tear a leaf out of a book. There 's Mr. Maurice
+now,&mdash;and I 'll go and hurry the dinner, for he 'll give us no peace
+if we 're a minute late.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+The stranger&mdash;or, to give him his proper name, Mr. Merl&mdash;now
+approached the window, and watched, not without admiration, the skilful
+management by which Scanlan skimmed along the strand, zigzagging his smart
+nag through all the awkward impediments of the way, and wending his tandem
+through what appeared a labyrinth of confusion.
+</p>
+<p>
+Men bred and born in great cities are somewhat prone to fancy that certain
+accomplishments, such as tandem-driving, steeple-chasing, and such like,
+are the exclusive acquirements of rank and station. They have only
+witnessed them as the gifts of guardsmen and &ldquo;young squires of high
+degree,&rdquo; never suspecting that in the country a very inferior class is
+often endowed with these skilful arts. Mr. Merl felt, therefore, no
+ordinary reverence for Maurice Scanlan, a sentiment fully reciprocated by
+the attorney, as he beheld the gorgeous dressing-gown, rich tasselled cap,
+and Turkish trousers of the other.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I thought I'd arrive before you, sir,&rdquo; said Scanlan, with a profound bow,
+as he entered the room; &ldquo;but I'm glad you got in first. What a shower that
+was!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Shower!&rdquo; said Merl; &ldquo;a West India hurricane is a zephyr to it. I 'd not
+live in this climate if you 'd give me the whole Martin estate!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I 'm sure of it, sir; one must be bred in the place, and know no better,
+to stand it.&rdquo; And although the speech was uttered in all humility, Merl
+gave the speaker a searching glance, as though to say, &ldquo;Don't lose your
+time trying to humbug me; I'm 'York,' too.&rdquo; Indeed, there was species of
+freemasonry in the looks that now passed between the two; each seemed
+instinctively to feel that he was in the presence of an equal, and that
+artifice and deceit might be laid aside for the nonce.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I hope you agree with me,&rdquo; said Scanlan, in a lower and more confidential
+voice, &ldquo;that this was the best place to come to. Here you can stay as long
+as you like, and nobody the wiser; but in the town of Oughterard they'd be
+at you morning, noon, and night, tracking your steps, questioning the
+waiter, ay, and maybe taking a peep at your letters. I 've known that same
+before now.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Well, I suppose you 're right; only this place does look a little dull, I
+confess.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;It's not the season, to be sure,&rdquo; said Scanlan, apologetically.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Oh! and there is a season here?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Isn't there, by George!&rdquo; said Maurice, smacking his lips. &ldquo;I 've seen two
+heifers killed here of a morning, and not so much as a beefsteak to be got
+before twelve o'clock. 'T is the height of fashion comes down here in
+July,&mdash;the Rams of Kiltimmon, and the Bodkins of Crossmaglin; and
+there was talk last year of a lord,&mdash;I forget his name; but he ran
+away from Newmarket, and the story went that he was making for this.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Any play?&rdquo; asked Merl.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Play is it? That there is; whist every night, and backgammon.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Merl threw up his eyebrows with pretty much the same feeling with which
+the Great Napoleon repeated the words &ldquo;Bows and Arrows!&rdquo; as the weapons of
+a force that offered him alliance.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;If you'd allow me to dine in this trim, Mr. Scanlan,&rdquo; said he, &ldquo;I'd ask
+you to order dinner.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I was only waiting for you to give the word, sir,&rdquo; said Maurice,
+reverting to the habit of respect at any fresh display of the other's
+pretensions; and opening the door, he gave a shrill whistle.
+</p>
+<p>
+The landlord himself answered the summons, and whispered a few words in
+Scanlan's ear.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;That's it, always,&rdquo; cried Maurice, angrily. &ldquo;I never came into the house
+for the last ten days without hearing the same story. I 'd like to know
+who and what he is, that must always have the best that 's going?&rdquo; Then
+turning to Merl, he added: &ldquo;It's a lodger he has upstairs; an old fellow
+that came about a fortnight back; and if there's a fine fish or a fat
+turkey or a good saddle of mutton to be got, he 'll have it.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Faix, he pays well,&rdquo; said Toby, &ldquo;whoever he is.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And he has secured our salmon, I find, and left us to dine on whiting,&rdquo;
+ said Maurice.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;An eighteen-pound fish!&rdquo; echoed Toby; &ldquo;and it would be as much as my life
+is worth to cut it in two.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And he's alone, too?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;No, sir. Mr. Crow, the painter, is to dine with him. He's making drawings
+for him of all the wonderful places down the coast.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Well, give us what we 're to have at once,&rdquo; said Maurice, angrily. &ldquo;The
+basket of wine was taken out of the gig?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yes, sir; all right and ready for you; and barrin' the fish you 'll have
+an elegant dinner.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+This little annoyance over, the guests relished their fare like hungry
+men; nor, time and place considered, was it to be despised.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Digestion is a great leveller.&rdquo; Mr. Merl and Mr. Scan-Ian felt far more
+on an equality when, the dinner over and the door closed, they drew the
+table close to the fire, and drank to each other in a glass of racy port.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Well, I believe a man might live here, after all,&rdquo; said Merl, as he gazed
+admiringly on the bright hues of his variegated lower garments.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I 'm proud to hear you say so,&rdquo; said Scanlan; &ldquo;for, of course, you've
+seen a deal of life; and when I say life, I mean fashion and high style,&mdash;nobs
+and swells.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yes; I believe I have,&rdquo; said Merl, lighting his cigar; &ldquo;that was always
+my 'line.' I fancy there's few fellows going have more experience of the
+really great world than Herman Merl.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And you like it?&rdquo; asked Maurice, confidentially.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I do, and I do not,&rdquo; said the Jew, hesitatingly. &ldquo;To one like myself, who
+knows them all, always on terms of close intimacy,&mdash;friendship, I may
+say,&mdash;it 's all very well; but take a new hand just launched into
+life, a fellow not of their own set,&mdash;why, sir, there 's no name for
+the insults and outrage he'll meet with.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;But what could they do?&rdquo; asked Scanlan, inquiringly.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;What?&mdash;anything, everything; laugh at him, live on him, win his last
+guinea,&mdash;and then, blackball him!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And could n't he get a crack at them?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;A what?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Couldn't he have a shot at some of them, at least?&rdquo; asked Maurice.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;No, no,&rdquo; said Mr. Merl, half contemptuously; &ldquo;they don't do <i>that</i>.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Faix! and we 'd do it down here,&rdquo; said Scanlan, &ldquo;devil may care who or
+what he was that tried the game.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;But I 'm speaking of London and Paris; I 'm not alluding to the Sandwich
+Islands,&rdquo; said Merl, on whose brain the port and the strong fire were
+already producing their effects.
+</p>
+<p>
+Scanlan's face flushed angrily; but a glance at the other checked the
+reply he was about to make, and he merely pushed the decanter across the
+table.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You see, sir,&rdquo; said Merl, in the tone of a man laying down a great
+dictum, &ldquo;there 's worlds and worlds. There's Claude Willoughby's world,
+which is young Martin's and Stanhope's and mine. There, we are all young
+fellows of fortune, good family, good prospects, you understand,&mdash;no,
+thank you, no more wine;&mdash;I feel that what I 've taken has got into
+my head; and this cigar, too, is none of the best. Would it be taking too
+great a liberty with you if I were to snatch a ten minutes' doze,&mdash;just
+ten minutes?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Treat me like an old friend; make yourself quite at home,&rdquo; said Maurice.
+&ldquo;There 's enough here&rdquo;&mdash;and he pointed to the bottles on the table&mdash;&ldquo;to
+keep me company; and I 'll wake you up when I 've finished them.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Mr. Merl made no reply; but drawing a chair for his legs, and disposing
+his drapery gracefully around him, he closed his eyes, and before Maurice
+had replenished his glass, gave audible evidence of a sound sleep.
+</p>
+<p>
+Now, worthy reader, we practise no deceptions with you; nor so far as we
+are able, do we allow others to do so. It is but fair, therefore, to tell
+you that Mr. Merl was not asleep, nor had he any tendency whatever to
+slumber about him. That astute gentleman, however, had detected that the
+port was, with the addition of a great fire, too much for him; he
+recognized in himself certain indications of confusion that implied
+wandering and uncertain faculties, and he resolved to arrest the progress
+of such symptoms by a little repose. He felt, in short, that if he had
+been engaged in play, that he should have at once &ldquo;cut out,&rdquo; and so he
+resolved to give himself the advantage of the prerogative which attaches
+to a tired traveller. There he lay, then, with closed eyes,&mdash;breathing
+heavily,&mdash;to all appearance sound asleep.
+</p>
+<p>
+Maurice Scanlan, meanwhile, scanned the recumbent figure before him with
+the eye of a connoisseur. We have once before said that Mr. Scanlan's
+jockey experiences had marvellously aided his worldly craft, and that he
+scrutinized those with whom he came in contact through life, with all the
+shrewd acumen he would have bestowed upon a horse whose purchase he
+meditated. It was easy to see that the investigation puzzled him. Mr. Merl
+did not belong to any one category he had ever seen before. Maurice was
+acquainted with various ranks and conditions of men; but here was a new
+order, not referable to any known class. He opened Captain Martin's
+letter, which he carried in his pocket-book, and re-read it; but it was
+vague and uninstructive. He merely requested that &ldquo;every attention might
+be paid to his friend Mr. Merl, who wanted to see something of the West,
+and know all about the condition of the people, and such like. He's up to
+everything, Master Maurice,&rdquo; continued the writer, &ldquo;and so just the man
+for <i>you</i>.&rdquo; There was little to be gleaned from this source, and so
+he felt, as he folded and replaced the epistle in his pocket.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;What can he be,&rdquo; thought Scanlan, &ldquo;and what brings him down here? Is he a
+member of Parliament, that wants to make himself up about Ireland and
+Irish grievances? Is he a money-lender, that wants to see the security
+before he makes a loan? Are they thinking of him for the agency?&rdquo;&mdash;and
+Maurice flushed as the suspicion crossed him,&mdash;&ldquo;or is it after Miss
+Mary he is?&rdquo; And a sudden paleness covered his face at the thought. &ldquo;I 'd
+give a cool hundred, this minute, if I could read you,&rdquo; said he to
+himself, &ldquo;Ay, and I'd not ask any one's help how to deal with us
+afterwards,&rdquo; added he, as he drained off his glass. While he was thus
+ruminating, a gentle tap was heard at the door, and, anxious not to
+disturb the sleeper, Scanlan crossed the room with noiseless steps, and
+opened it.
+</p>
+<p>
+<a name="linkimage-0004" id="linkimage-0004">
+<!-- IMG --></a>
+</p>
+<div class="fig" style="width:80%;">
+<img src="images/124.jpg" width="100%" alt="124 " />
+</div>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Oh, it's you, Simmy,&rdquo; said he, in a low voice. &ldquo;Come in, and make no
+noise; he's asleep.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And that's him!&rdquo; said Crow, standing still to gaze on the recumbent
+figure before him, which he scrutinized with all an artist's appreciation.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Ay, and what do you think of him?&rdquo; whispered Scanlan.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;That chap is a Jew,&rdquo; said Sim, in the same cautious tone. &ldquo;I know the
+features well; you see the very image of him in the old Venetian pictures.
+Whenever they wanted cunning and cruelty&mdash;but more cunning than
+cruelty&mdash;they always took that type.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I would n't wonder if you were right, Simmy,&rdquo; said Scanlan, on whom a new
+light was breaking.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I know I am; look at the spread of the nostrils, and the thick, full
+lips, and the coarse, projecting under-jaw. Faix!&rdquo; said he to himself, &ldquo;I
+'ve seen the day I 'd like to have had a study of your face.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Indeed!&rdquo; said Scanlan.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Just so; he'd make a great Judas!&rdquo; said Crow, enthusiastically. &ldquo;It is
+the miser all over. You know,&rdquo; added he, &ldquo;if one took him in the
+historical way, you 'd get rid of the vulgarity, and make him grander and
+finer; for, looking at him now, he might be a dog-stealer.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Scanlan gave a low, cautious laugh as he placed a chair beside his own for
+the artist, and filled out for him a bumper of port.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I was just dying for a glass of this,&rdquo; said Crow. &ldquo;I dined with Mr. Barry
+upstairs; and though he's a fine-hearted old fellow in many respects, he's
+too abstemious; a pint of sherry for two at dinner, and a pint of port
+after, that's the allowance. Throw out as many hints as you like, suggest
+how and what you will, but devil a drop more you'll get.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And who is he?&rdquo; asked Scanlan.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I wish you could tell me,&rdquo; said Crow.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You haven't a notion; nor what he is?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Not the slightest. I think, indeed, he said he was in the army; but I'm
+not clear it wasn't a commissary or a surgeon; maybe he was, but he knows
+a little about everything. Take him on naval matters, and he understands
+them well; ask him about foreign countries,&mdash;egad, he was everywhere.
+Ireland seems the only place new to him, and it won't be so long; for he
+goes among the people, and talks to them, and hears all they have to say,
+with a patience that breaks my heart. Like all strangers, he's astonished
+with the acuteness he meets with, and never ceases saying, 'Ain't they a
+wonderful people? Who ever saw their equal for intelligence?'&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Bother!&rdquo; said Scanlan, contemptuously.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;But it is not bother! Maurice; he's right. They are just what he says.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Arrah! don't be humbugging <i>me</i>, Mr. Crow,&rdquo; said the other. &ldquo;They
+'re a set of scheming, plotting vagabonds, that are unmanageable by any
+one, except a fellow that has the key to them as I have.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;<i>You</i> know them, that's true,&rdquo; said Crow, half apologetically, for
+he liked the port, and did not feel he ought to push contradiction too
+far.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And that's more than your friend Barry does, or ever will,&rdquo; said Scanlan.
+&ldquo;I defy an Englishman&mdash;I don't care how shrewd he is&mdash;to
+understand Paddy.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+A slight movement on Mr. Merl's part here admonished the speaker to speak
+lower.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Ay,&rdquo; continued Maurice, &ldquo;that fellow there&mdash;whoever he is or
+whatever he is&mdash;is no fool! he 's deep enough; and yet there 's not a
+bare-legged gossoon on the estate I won't back to take him in.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;But Barry's another kind of man entirely. You wouldn't call him cute or
+cunning; but he's a sensible, well-judging man, that has seen a deal of
+life.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And what is it, he says, brings him here?&rdquo; asked Scanlan.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;He never said a word about that yet,&rdquo; replied Crow, &ldquo;further than his
+desire to visit a country he had heard much of, and, if I understand him
+aright, where some of his ancestors came from; for, you see, at times he's
+not so easy for one to follow, for he has a kind of a foreign twang in his
+tongue, and often mumbles to himself in a strange language.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I mistrust all these fellows that go about the world, pretending they
+want to see this and observe that,&rdquo; said Scanlan, sententiously.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;It's mighty hard to mistrust a man that gives you the likes of that,&rdquo;
+ said Crow, as he drew a neatly folded banknote from his pocket, and handed
+it to Scanlan. &ldquo;Twenty pounds! And he gave you that?&rdquo; &ldquo;This very evening.
+'It is a little more than our bargain, Mr. Crow,' said he, 'but not more
+than I can afford to give; and so I hope you 'll not refuse it.' These
+were his words, as he took my lot of drawings&mdash;poor daubs they were&mdash;and
+placed them in his portfolio.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;So that he is rich?&rdquo; said Maurice, pensively, &ldquo;There seems no end of his
+money; there's not a day goes over he does n't spend fifteen or sixteen
+pounds in meat, potatoes, barley, and the like. Sure, you may say he 's
+been feeding the two islands himself for the last fortnight; and what's
+more, one must n't as much as allude to it. He gets angry at the slightest
+word that can bring the subject forward. It was the other day he said to
+myself, 'If you can relieve destitution without too much parade of its
+sufferings, you are not only obviating the vulgar display of rich
+benevolence, but you are inculcating high sentiments and delicacy of
+feeling in those that are relieved. Take care how you pauperize the heart
+of a people, for you 'll have to make a workhouse of the nation.'&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Sure, they're paupers already!&rdquo; exclaimed Scanlan, contemptuously. &ldquo;When
+I hear all these elegant sentiments uttered about Ireland, I know a man is
+an ass! This is a poor country,&mdash;the people is poor, the gentry is
+poor, the climate is n't the best, and bad as it is, you 're never sure of
+it. All that anybody can hope to do is to make his living out of it; but
+as to improving it,&mdash;raising the intellectual standard of the people,
+and all that balderdash we hear of,&mdash;you might just as well tell me
+that there was an Act of Parliament to make everybody in Connaught six
+feet high. Nature says one thing, and it signifies mighty little if the
+House of Commons says the other.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And you 're telling me this in the very spot that contradicts every word
+you say!&rdquo; cried Crow, half angrily; for the port had given him courage,
+and the decanter waxed low.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;How so?&rdquo; exclaimed Scanlan.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Here, where we sit&mdash;on this very estate of Cro' Martin&mdash;where a
+young girl&mdash;a child the other day&mdash;has done more to raise the
+condition of the people, to educate and civilize, than the last six
+generations together.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+A long wailing whistle from Scanlan was the insulting reply to the
+assertion.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;What do you mean by that?&rdquo; cried Crow, passionately.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I mean that she has done more mischief to the property than
+five-and-forty years' good management will ever repair, Now don't be
+angry, Simmy; keep your temper, and draw your chair back again to the
+table. I 'm not going to say one word against her intentions; but when I
+see the waste of thousands of pounds on useless improvements, elegant
+roads that lead nowhere, bridges that nobody will ever pass, and harbors
+without boats, not to say the habits of dependence the people have got by
+finding everything done for them. I tell you again, ten years more of Miss
+Mary's rule will finish the estate.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+<a name="linkimage-0005" id="linkimage-0005">
+<!-- IMG --></a>
+</p>
+<div class="fig" style="width:80%;">
+<img src="images/130.jpg" width="100%" alt="" /><br />
+</div>
+<p>
+alt="130 &ldquo;>
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I don't believe a word of it!&rdquo; blurted out Simmy, boldly. &ldquo;I saw her
+yesterday coming out of a cabin, where she passed above an hour, nursing
+typhus fever and cholera. The cloak she took off the door&mdash;for she
+left it there to dry&mdash;was still soaked with rain; her wet hair hung
+down her shoulders, and as she stood bridling her own pony,&mdash;for
+there was not a living soul to help her&mdash;&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;She 'd have made an elegant picture,&rdquo; broke in Scanlan, with a laugh.
+&ldquo;But that's exactly the fault of us in Ireland,&mdash;we are all
+picturesque; I wish we were prosperous! But come, Simmy, finish your wine;
+it's not worth disputing about. If all I hear about matters be true, there
+will be very little left of Cro' Martin when the debts are paid.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;What! do you mean to say that they 're in difficulty?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Far worse; the stories that reach me call it&mdash;ruin!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Simmy drew his chair closer to the table, and in a whisper scarcely
+breathed, said, &ldquo;That chap's not asleep, Maurice.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I know it,&rdquo; whispered the other; and added, aloud, &ldquo;Many a fellow that
+thinks he has the first charge on the property will soon discover his
+mistake; there are mortgages of more than eighty years' standing on the
+estate. You've had a great sleep, sir,&rdquo; said he, addressing Merl, who now
+yawned and opened his eyes; &ldquo;I hope our talking did n't disturb you?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Not in the least,&rdquo; said Merl, rising and stretching his legs. &ldquo;I'm all
+right now, and quite fresh for anything.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Let me introduce Mr. Crow to you, sir,&mdash;a native artist that we 're
+all proud of.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;That's exactly what you are not then,&rdquo; said Crow; &ldquo;nor would you be if I
+deserved it. You 'd rather gain a cause at the Quarter Sessions, or take
+in a friend about a horse, than be the man that painted the Madonna at
+Florence.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;He's cross this evening,&mdash;cross and ill-humored,&rdquo; said Scanlan,
+laughing. &ldquo;Maybe he 'll be better tempered when we have tea.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I was just going to ask for it,&rdquo; said Merl, as he arranged his whiskers,
+and performed a small impromptu toilet before the glass, while Simmy
+issued forth to give the necessary orders.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;We 'll have tea, and a rubber of dummy afterwards,&rdquo; said Scanlan, &ldquo;if
+you've no objection.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Whatever you like,&mdash;I 'm quite at your disposal,&rdquo; replied Merl, who
+now seated himself with an air of bland amiability, ready, according to
+the amount of the stake, to win pounds or lose sixpences.
+</p>
+<p>
+<a name="link2HCH0011" id="link2HCH0011">
+<!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+</p>
+<div style="height: 4em;">
+<br /><br /><br /><br />
+</div>
+<h2>
+CHAPTER XI. MR. MERL &ldquo;AT FENCE&rdquo;
+ </h2>
+<p>
+All the projects which Mr. Scanlan had struck out for Merl's occupation on
+the following day were marred by the unfavorable weather. It blew fiercely
+from the westward, driving upon shore a tremendous sea, and sending white
+masses of drift and foam far inland. The rain, too, came down in torrents.
+The low-lying clouds, which scarcely reached more than half-way up the
+mountain sides, seemed as if rent asunder at times, and from them came a
+deluge, filling all the watercourses, and swelling rivulets to the size of
+mighty torrents. The unceasing roll of thunder, now near, now rumbling
+along in distant volleys, swelled the wild uproar, and helped to make up a
+scene of grand but desolate meaning.
+</p>
+<p>
+What could well be drearier than that little line of cabins that formed
+the village of Kilkieran, as with strongly barricaded doors, and with
+roofs secured by ropes and spars, they stood exposed to the full violence
+of the wild Atlantic! Not a man, not a living thing was to be seen. The
+fishermen were all within doors, cowering in gloomy indolence over the
+scanty turf fires, and brooding darkly on the coming winter.
+</p>
+<p>
+With a thorough conviction of all the dreariness of this scene, Mr. Merl
+stood at the window and looked out. He had been all his life too actively
+engaged in his pursuits of one kind or other to know much about what is
+called &ldquo;being bored.&rdquo; Let rain fall ever so heavily, a cab could take him
+down to &ldquo;'Change,&rdquo;&mdash;the worst weather never marred a sale of stock,
+and Consols could rise even while the mercury was falling. The
+business-life of a great city seems to care little for weather, and
+possibly they whose intent faculties are bent on gain, scarcely remember
+whether the sun shines upon their labors.
+</p>
+<p>
+Merl felt differently now; the scene before him was wilder and gloomier
+than anything he had ever beheld. Beyond and behind the village steep
+mountains rose on every side, of barren and rugged surface,&mdash;not a
+vestige of any culture to be seen; while on the road, which led along a
+narrow gorge, nothing moved. All was dreary and deserted.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I suppose you'll keep the roof over you to-day, Mr. Merl?&rdquo; said Scanlan,
+as he entered the room, buttoned up to the chin in a coarse frieze coat,
+while his head was protected by a genuine &ldquo;sou'-wester&rdquo; of oilskin.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And are <i>you</i> going out in such weather?&rdquo; asked Merl.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;'Needs must,' sir, as the proverb says. I have to be at the assizes at
+Oughterard this morning, to prosecute some scoundrels for cutting brambles
+in the wood; and I want to serve notices on a townland about eight miles
+from this; and then I 'll have to go round by Cro' Martin and see Miss
+Mary. That's not the worst of it,&rdquo; added he, with an impudent leer, &ldquo;for
+she's a fine girl, and has the prettiest eyes in the kingdom.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I have a letter for her,&rdquo; said Merl,&mdash;&ldquo;a letter of introduction from
+Captain Martin. I suppose I might as well send it by you, and ask if I
+might pay my respects to-morrow or next day?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;To be sure; I'll take it with pleasure. You'll like her when you see her.
+She's not a bit like the rest: no pride, no stand-off,&mdash;that is, when
+she takes a fancy; but she is full of life and courage for anything.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Ah, yes,&mdash;the Captain said we should get on very well together,&rdquo;
+ drawled out Merl.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Did he, though!&rdquo; cried Scanlan, eagerly. Then as suddenly checking his
+anxiety, he added: &ldquo;But what does <i>he</i> know about Miss Mary? Surely
+they're as good as strangers to each other. And for the matter of that,
+even when he was here, they did n't take to each other,&mdash;she was
+always laughing at the way he rode.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Wasn't he in the dragoons?&rdquo; asked Merl, in a half-rebutting tone.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;So he was; but what does that signify? Sure it's not a cavalry seat, with
+your head down and your elbows squared, will teach you to cross country,&mdash;at
+least, with Mary Martin beside you. You'll see her one of these day
+yourself, Mr. Merl. May I never, if you don't see her now!&rdquo; cried Scanlan,
+suddenly, as he pointed to the road along which a horse was seen coming at
+speed, the rider breasting the storm fearlessly, and only crouching to the
+saddle as the gusts swept past. &ldquo;What in the name of all that's wonderful
+brings her here?&rdquo; cried Maurice. &ldquo;She wasn't down at Kilkieran for four
+months.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;She'll stop at this inn here, I suppose?&rdquo; said Merl who was already
+performing an imaginary toilet for her visit.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You may take your oath she'll not!&rdquo; said Scanlan half roughly; &ldquo;she 'd
+not cross the threshold of it! She 's going to some cabin or other. There
+she goes,&mdash;is n't that riding?&rdquo; cried he, in animation. &ldquo;Did you ever
+see a horse held neater? And see how she picks the road for him! Easy as
+she's sitting, she 'd take a four-foot wall this minute, without stirring
+in her saddle.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;She hasn't got a nice day for pleasuring!&rdquo; said the Jew, with a vulgar
+cackle.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;If ye call it pleasure,&rdquo; rejoined Scanlan, &ldquo;what she's after; but I
+suspect there's somebody sick down at the end of the village. There, I 'm
+right; she's pulling up at Mat Landy's,&mdash;I wonder if it's old Mat is
+bad.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You know him?&rdquo; asked Merl.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;To be sure I do. He 's known down the coast for forty miles. He saved
+more men from shipwreck himself than everybody in the barony put together;
+but his heart is all but broke about a granddaughter that ran away. Sure
+enough, she's going in there.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Did you see Miss Mary?&rdquo; cried Crow, entering suddenly. &ldquo;She's just gone
+down the beach. They say there's a case now down there.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;A case&mdash;of what?&rdquo; said Merl.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Cholera or typhus, as it may be,&rdquo; said Crow, not a little surprised at
+the unmistakable terror of the other's face.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And she's gone to see it!&rdquo; exclaimed the Jew.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;To do more than see it. She 'll nurse the sick man, and bring him
+medicine and whatever he wants.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And not afraid?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Afraid!&rdquo; broke in Crow. &ldquo;I'd like to know what she's afraid of. Ask Mr.
+Scanlan what would frighten her.&rdquo; But Mr. Scanlan had already slipped
+noiselessly from the room, and was already on his way down the shore.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Well,&rdquo; said Merl, lighting his cigar, and drawing an arm-chair close to
+the fire, &ldquo;I don't see the advantage of all that. She could send the
+doctor, I suppose, and make her servants take down to these people
+whatever she wanted to send them. What especial utility there is in going
+herself, I can't perceive.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I'll tell you, then,&rdquo; said Crow. &ldquo;It's more likely the doctor is busy
+this minute, ten or fifteen miles away,&mdash;for the whole country is
+down in sickness; but even if he was n't, if it were not for her courage
+in going everywhere, braving danger and death every hour, there would be a
+general flight of all that could escape. They'd rush into the towns,&mdash;where
+already there's more sickness than they know how to deal with. She
+encourages some,&mdash;she shames more; and not a few are proud to be
+brave in such company, for she is an angel,&mdash;that's her name,&mdash;an
+angel.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Well, I should like to see her,&rdquo; drawled out Merl, as he smoothed down
+his scrubby mustachios.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Nothing easier, then,&rdquo; rejoined Crow. &ldquo;Put on your coat and hat, and we
+'ll stroll down the beach till she comes out; it can't be very long, for
+she has enough on her hands elsewhere.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+The proposition of a &ldquo;stroll&rdquo; in such weather was very little to Mr.
+Merl's taste; but his curiosity was stronger than even his fear of a
+drenching, and having muffled and shawled himself as if for an Arctic
+winter, they set out together from the inn.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And you tell me,&rdquo; said he, &ldquo;that the Martins used to live here,&mdash;actually
+pass their lives in this atrocious climate?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;That they did,&mdash;and the worst mistake they ever made was to leave
+it,&rdquo; said Crow.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I confess you puzzle me,&rdquo; said Merl.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Very possibly I do, sir,&rdquo; was the calm reply; &ldquo;but you'd have understood
+me at once had you known this country while they resided at Cro' Martin.
+It was n't only that the superfluities of their wealth ran over, and
+filled the cup of the poor man, but there was a sense of hope cherished,
+by seeing that however hard the times, however adverse the season, there
+was always 'his Honor,' as they called Mr. Martin, whom they could appeal
+to for aid or for lenient treatment.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Very strange, very odd, all this,&rdquo; said Merl, musing. &ldquo;But all that I
+hear of Ireland represents the people as if in a continual struggle for
+mere existence, and actually in a daily state of dependence on the will of
+somebody above them.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And if that same condition were never to be exaggerated into downright
+want, or pushed to an actual slavery, we could be very happy with it,&rdquo;
+ said Crow, &ldquo;and not thank you, or any other Englishman that came here, to
+disturb it.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I assure you I have no ambition to indulge in any such interference,&rdquo;
+ said Merl, with a half-contemptuous laugh.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And so you're not thinking of settling in Ireland?&rdquo; asked Crow, in some
+surprise.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Never dreamed of it!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Well, the story goes that you wanted to buy an estate, and came down to
+have a look at this property here.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I'd not live on it if Martin were to make me a present of it to-morrow.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I don't think he will,&rdquo; said Crow, gravely. &ldquo;I am afraid he could n't, if
+he wished it.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;What, do you mean on account of the entail?&rdquo; asked Merl.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Not exactly.&rdquo; He paused, and after some silence said, &ldquo;If the truth were
+told, there's a great deal of debt on this property,&mdash;more than any
+one suspects.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;The Captain's encumbrances?&rdquo; asked Merl, eagerly.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;His grandfather's and his great-grandfather's! As for the present man,
+they say that he's tied up some way not to sell, except for the sake of
+redeeming some of the mortgages. But who knows what is true and what is
+false about all this?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Merl was silent; grave fears were crossing his mind how far his claims
+were valid; and terrible misgivings shot across him lest the Captain might
+have been paying him with valueless securities.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I gather from what you say,&rdquo; said he, at last, &ldquo;that it would be rather
+difficult to make out a title for any purchaser of this estate.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Don't be afraid of that, sir. They'll make you out a fair title.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I tell you again, I'd not take it as a present,&rdquo; said Merl, half angrily.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I see,&rdquo; said Crow, nodding his head sententiously. And then fixing his
+eyes steadily on him, he said, &ldquo;You are a mortgagee.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Merl reddened,&mdash;partly anger, partly shame. Indeed, the feeling that
+such a capacity as Mr. Crow's should have pushed him hard, was anything
+but complimentary to his self-esteem.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I don't want to pry into any man's affairs,&rdquo; said Crow, easily. &ldquo;Heaven
+knows it's mighty little matter to Simmy Crow who lives in the big house
+there. I 'd rather, if I had my choice, be able to walk the wood with my
+sketch-book and brushes than be the richest man that ever was heartsore
+with the cares of wealth.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And if a friend&mdash;a sincere, well-wishing friend&mdash;were to bind
+himself that you should enjoy this same happiness you speak of, Mr. Crow,
+what would you do in return?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Anything he asked me,&mdash;anything, at least, that a fair man could
+ask, and an honest one could do.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;There's my hand on it, then,&rdquo; said Merl. &ldquo;It's a bargain.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Ay, but let us hear the conditions,&rdquo; said Crow. &ldquo;What could I possibly
+serve you in, that would be worth this price?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Simply this: that you'll answer all my inquiries, so far as you know
+about this estate; and where your knowledge fails, that you'll endeavor to
+obtain the information for me.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Maybe I could tell you nothing at all&mdash;or next to nothing,&rdquo; said
+Crow. &ldquo;Just ask me, now, what's the kind of question you 'd put; for, to
+tell truth, I 'm not over bright or clever,&mdash;the best of me is when
+I've a canvas before me.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Merl peered stealthily at the speaker over the great folds of the shawl
+that enveloped his throat; he was not without his misgivings that the
+artist was a &ldquo;deep fellow,&rdquo; assuming a manner of simplicity to draw him
+into a confidence. &ldquo;And yet,&rdquo; he thought, &ldquo;had he really been shrewd and
+cunning, he 'd never have blurted out his suspicion as to my being a
+mortgagee. Besides,&rdquo; said he to himself, &ldquo;there, and with that fact, must
+end all his knowledge of me.&rdquo; &ldquo;You can dine with me to-day, Mr. Crow,
+can't you?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I 'm engaged to the stranger in No. 4,&mdash;the man I'm making the
+drawings for.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;But you could get off. You could ask him to excuse you by saying that
+something of importance required you elsewhere?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And dine in the room underneath?&rdquo; asked Crow, with a comical look of
+distress at this suggestion.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Well, let us go somewhere else. Is there no other inn in the
+neighborhood?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;There's a small public-house near the gate of Cro' Martin, to be sure.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Then we'll dine there. I'll order a chaise at four o'clock, and we 'll
+drive over together. And now, I 'll just return to the house, for this
+wading here is not much to my taste.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Mr. Merl returned gloomily to the house, his mind too deeply occupied with
+his own immediate interests to bestow any thought upon Mary Martin. The
+weather assuredly offered but little inducement to linger out of doors,
+for, as the morning wore on, the rain and wind increased in violence,
+while vast masses of mist swept over the sea and were carried on shore,
+leaving only, at intervals, little patches of the village to be seen,&mdash;dreary,
+storm-beaten, and desolate! Merl shuddered, as he cast one last look at
+this sad-colored picture, and entered the inn.
+</p>
+<p>
+Has it ever been your ill-fortune, good reader, to find yourself alone in
+some dreary, unfrequented spot, the weather-bound denizen of a sorry inn,
+without books or newspapers, thrown upon the resources of your own
+thoughts, so sure to take their color from the dreary scene around them?
+It is a trying ordeal for the best of tempers. Your man of business chafes
+and frets against the inactivity; your man of leisure sorrows over
+monotony that makes idleness a penalty. He whose thoroughfare in life is
+the pursuit of wealth thinks of all those more fortunate than himself then
+hurrying on to gain, while he who is the mark of the world's flatteries
+and attentions laments over the dismal desolation of an uncompanionable
+existence.
+</p>
+<p>
+If Mr. Merl did not exactly occupy any one of these categories, he
+fancied, at least, that he oscillated amidst them all. It was, indeed, his
+good pleasure to imagine himself a &ldquo;man upon town,&rdquo; who played a little,
+discounted a little, dealt a little in old pictures, old china, old
+cabinets, and old plate, but all for mere pastime,&mdash;something, as he
+would say, &ldquo;to give him an interest in it;&rdquo; and there, certainly, he was
+right. Nothing so surely imparted an &ldquo;interest&rdquo; in Mr. Merl's eyes as
+having an investment. Objects of art, the greatest triumphs of genius,
+landscape the richest eye ever ranged over, political events that would
+have awakened a sense of patriotism in the dullest and coldest, all came
+before him as simple questions of profit and loss.
+</p>
+<p>
+If he was not actually a philosopher, some of his views of life were
+characterized by great shrewdness. He had remarked, for instance, that the
+changeful fashions of the world are ever alternating; and that not only
+dress and costume and social customs undergo mutations, but that objects
+of positive sterling value are liable to the same wayward influences. We
+are all modern to-day, to-morrow we may be &ldquo;Louis Quatorze,&rdquo; the next day
+&ldquo;Cinque Centi&rdquo; in our tastes. Now we are mad after Italian art, yesterday
+the Dutch school was in vogue. Our galleries, our libraries, our houses,
+our gardens, all feel the caprices of these passing moods. There was but
+one thing that Mr. Merl had perceived never changed, and that was the
+estimation men felt for money. Religions might decay, and states crumble,
+thrones totter, and kings be exiled, Cuyps might be depreciated and
+marquetry be held in mean esteem; but gold was always within a fraction at
+least of four pounds eleven shillings the ounce!
+</p>
+<p>
+He remarked, too, that men gradually grow tired of almost everything; the
+pursuits of the young are not those of the middle-aged, still less of
+advanced life. The books which we once cried over are now thrown down with
+languor; the society we imagined perfection we now smile at for its very
+absurdities. We see vulgarity where we once beheld vigor; we detect
+exaggeration where we used to attribute power. There is only one theme of
+which our estimation never varies,&mdash;wealth! Mr. Merl had never yet
+met the man nor the woman who really despised it; nay, he had seen kings
+trafficking on 'Change. He had known great ministers deep speculators on
+the Bourse; valiant admirals, distinguished generals, learned judges, and
+even divines, had bought and sold with him, all eager in the pursuit of
+gain, and all employing, to the best of their ability, the high faculties
+of their intelligence to assist them in making crafty bargains.
+</p>
+<p>
+If these experiences taught him the universal veneration men feel for
+wealth, they also conveyed another lesson, which was, the extreme
+gullibility of mankind. He met every day men who ruled cabinets and
+commanded fleets,&mdash;the reputed great of the earth,&mdash;and saw them
+easier victims in his hand than the commonest capacity in &ldquo;Leadenhall
+Street.&rdquo; They had the earliest information, but could not profit by it;
+they never understood the temper on 'Change, knew nothing of the
+variations of the money-barometer, and invariably fell into snares that
+your city man never incurred. Hence Mr. Merl came to conceive a very low
+general opinion of what he himself called &ldquo;the swells,&rdquo; and a very high
+one of Herman Merl.
+</p>
+<p>
+If we have dwelt upon these traits of this interesting individual in this
+place, it is simply to place before our reader's mind the kind of
+lucubrations such a man might be disposed to indulge in. In fact,
+story-tellers like ourselves have very little pretension to go beyond the
+narrow limit; and having given to the reader the traits of a character,
+they must leave their secret working more or less to his ingenuity. So
+much, however, we are at liberty to declare, that Mr. Merl was terribly
+bored, and made no scruple of confessing it.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;What the deuce are you staring at? Is there anything really to be seen in
+that confounded dreary sea?&rdquo; cried he, as Crow stood shading his eyes from
+the lightning flashes, and intently gazing on the scene without.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;That's one of the effects Backhuysen was so fond of!&rdquo; exclaimed Crow,
+eagerly,&mdash;&ldquo;a sullen sea, lead-colored and cold, with a white curl
+just crisping the top of the waves, over it a dreary expanse of dark sky,
+low-lying and black, till you come near the horizon, where there is a
+faint line of grayish white, just enough to show that you are on the wide,
+wide ocean, out of sight of land, and nothing living near, except that
+solitary sea-gull perched upon the breakers there. There's real poetry in
+a bit like that; it sets one a thinking over the desolation of those whose
+life is little better than a voyage on such a sea!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Better be drowned at once,&rdquo; broke in Merl, impatiently.
+</p>
+<p>
+Crow started and looked at him; and had Merl but seen that glance, so
+scornful and contemptuous was it, even his self-esteem might have felt
+outraged. But he had not remarked it; and as little did he guess what was
+then passing in the poor artist's mind, as Crow muttered to himself, &ldquo;I
+know one that will not be your guest to-day, if he dines on a cold potato,
+or does n't dine at all.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Did I tell you,&rdquo; cried he, suddenly, &ldquo;that there's no horses to be had?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;No horses!&rdquo; exclaimed Merl; &ldquo;how so?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;There's a great trial going on at the assizes to-day, and Mr. Barry is
+gone on to Oughterard to hear it, and he has the only pair of posters in
+the place.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;What a confounded hole!&rdquo; burst out Merl, passionately. &ldquo;That I ever
+should have set my foot in it! How are we to get through the day here?
+Have you thought of anything to be done?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;<i>I'll</i> go down and find out how poor Landy is,&rdquo; said Crow; &ldquo;for Miss
+Mary's horse is still at the door, and he must be very bad, indeed, or she
+wouldn't delay so long.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And what if it should turn out the cholera, or typhus, or something as
+bad?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Well?&rdquo; said Crow, interrogatively; for he could not guess the drift of
+the suggestion.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Simply this, my worthy friend,&rdquo; resumed Merl,&mdash;&ldquo;that I have no fancy
+for the pleasure of your company at dinner after such an excursion as you
+speak of.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I was just going to say that myself,&rdquo; said Crow. &ldquo;Good-bye!&rdquo; And before
+Merl could interpose a word, he was gone.
+</p>
+<p>
+<a name="link2HCH0012" id="link2HCH0012">
+<!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+</p>
+<div style="height: 4em;">
+<br /><br /><br /><br />
+</div>
+<h2>
+CHAPTER XII. MR. MERL'S MEDITATIONS.
+</h2>
+<p>
+Our last chapter left Mr. Herman Merl in bad company,&mdash;he was alone.
+Now, very few men's thoughts are companionable in the dreary solitude of a
+sorry inn. None of us, it is to be feared, are totally exempt from &ldquo;this
+world's crosses;&rdquo; and though the sorrows of life do fall very unequally,
+the light afflictions are accepted as very heavy burdens by those to whose
+lot they fall!
+</p>
+<p>
+Just as it happens, then, on some gloomy day of winter, when we have
+&ldquo;finished our book,&rdquo; and the newspapers are tiresome, we take the
+opportunity to look through our letters and papers,&mdash;to arrange our
+desk, and put a little order in our scattered and littered memoranda,&mdash;somewhat
+in the same spirit will Conscience grasp a similar moment to go over the
+past, glance at bygone events, and make, as it were, a clearance of
+whatever weighs upon our memory. I 'm not quite certain that the best of
+us come out of this Bankruptcy Court with a first-class certificate. Even
+the most merciful to his own errors will acknowledge that in many things
+he should do differently were they to be done over again; and he must,
+indeed, have fallen upon a happy lot in life who has not some
+self-reproach on the score of kindness unrequited,&mdash;slight injuries
+either unforgiven or unequally avenged,&mdash;friendships jeopardized,
+mayhap lost, by some mere indulgence of temper,&mdash;and enmities
+unreconciled, just for lack of the veriest sacrifice of self-love.
+</p>
+<p>
+Were there any such court in morals as in law, what a sad spectacle would
+our schedule show, and how poor even the most solvent amongst us, if
+called on for a list of his liabilities!
+</p>
+<p>
+Lest our moralizing should grow uncomfortable, dear reader, let us return
+to Mr. Merl, now occupied, as he was, in this same process of
+self-examination. He sat with a little note-book before him, recalling
+various incidents of the past. And if the lowering expression of his face
+might be trusted, his reveries were not rose-colored; and yet, as he
+turned over the pages, it might be seen that moments of gratulation
+alternated with the intervals of self-reproach.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Wednesday, the 10th,&rdquo; muttered he to himself, &ldquo;dined at Philippe's&mdash;supped
+with Arkright and Bailey&mdash;whist at double Nap. points&mdash;won four
+hundred and ten&mdash;might have made it a thousand, but B. flung the
+cards out of the window in a passion, and had to cease playing.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Thursday&mdash;toothache&mdash;stayed at home, and played piquet with
+myself&mdash;discovered two new combinations, in taking in cards&mdash;Irving
+came to see me&mdash;won from him twenty pounds his mother had just sent
+him.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Friday&mdash;a good day's work&mdash;walked into Martin for two thousand
+seven hundred, and took his bill at three months, with promise to renew&mdash;dined
+with Sitwell, and sold him my Perugino for six hundred&mdash;cost myself
+not as many francs&mdash;am to have the refusal of all Vanderbrett's
+cabinets for letting him off his match with Columbine, which, by the way,
+he was sure to win, as Mope is dead lame.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Martin again&mdash;Saturday&mdash;came to have his revenge, but seemed
+quarrelsome; so I affected an engagement, and declined play.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Sunday&mdash;gave him his revenge, to the tune of twelve hundred in my
+own favor&mdash;'Lansquenet' in the evening at his rooms&mdash;several
+swells present&mdash;thought it prudent to drop some tin, and so, lost one
+hundred and forty Naps.&mdash;Sir Giles Bruce the chief winner&mdash;rich,
+and within two months of being of age.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Monday&mdash;the Perugino returned as a bad copy by Fava&mdash;took it at
+once, and said I was taken in myself&mdash;Sitwell so pleased that he sat
+down to écarté, and lost two hundred to me. I dine with him to-morrow.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Tuesday&mdash;blank&mdash;dinner at Sitwell's&mdash;met Colonel Cardie,
+whom I saw at Hombourg, and so refused to play. It was, I suspect, a plan
+of Sitwell's to pit us against each other.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Wednesday&mdash;sold out my African at seventy-one and an eighth&mdash;realized
+well, and bought in Poyais, which will rise for at least ten days to come&mdash;took
+Canchard's château at Ghent for his old debt at écarté&mdash;don't like
+it, as it may be talked about.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Gave a dinner to Wilson, Morris, Leader, Whyte, and Martin&mdash;Lescour
+could n't come&mdash;played little whist afterwards&mdash;changed for
+hazard after supper&mdash;won a few Naps., and home to bed.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Took Rigby's curricle and horses for the two hundred he owes me&mdash;glad
+to have done with him&mdash;he evidently wanted a row&mdash;and so play
+with him no more.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Sent ten Naps, to the fund for the poor injured by the late inundations,
+as the police called to ask about my passport, &amp;c.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Saturday&mdash;the Curé of St. Rochette, to ask for alms&mdash;gave three
+hundred francs, and secured his services against the police&mdash;the curé
+mentions some curious drawings in the sacristy&mdash;promised to go and
+see them.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Bought Walrond's library for a franc a volume&mdash;the Elzevirs alone
+worth double the amount paid&mdash;Bailey bolted, and so lose his last
+bills&mdash;Martin quarrelsome&mdash;said he never yet won at any sitting
+with me&mdash;lost seventy to him, and sent him home satisfied.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Gave five hundred francs for the drawings at St. R&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;,
+abominable daubs; but the police grow more troublesome every day&mdash;besides,
+Crowthorpe is collecting early studies of Rembrandt&mdash;these sketches
+are marked R.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;A great evening&mdash;cleared Martin out&mdash;suspect that this night's
+work makes me an Irish estated gentleman&mdash;must obtain legal opinion
+as to these same Irish securities and post-obits, involving, as they do, a
+heavy sum.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Mr. Merl paused at this <i>entrée</i> in his diary, and began to reflect
+in no very gratulatory mood on the little progress he had as yet made in
+this same object of inquiry; in fact, he was just discovering what a vast
+number of more shrewd observers than himself have long since found out,
+that exploring in Ireland is rather tough work. Everything looks so easy
+and simple and plain upon the surface, and yet is so puzteling and
+complicated beneath; all seems so intelligible, where there is nothing in
+reality that is not a contradiction. It is true he was not harassing
+himself with problems of labor and wages, the condition of the people, the
+effects of emigration, and so forth. He wanted to ascertain some few facts
+as to the value of a certain estate, and what incumbrances it might be
+charged with; and to the questions he put on this head, every reply was an
+insinuated interrogatory to himself. &ldquo;Why are <i>you</i> here, Mr. Merl?&rdquo;
+ &ldquo;How does it concern <i>you?</i>&rdquo; &ldquo;What may be <i>your</i> interest in the
+same investigation?&rdquo; This peculiar dialectic met him as he landed; it
+followed him to the West. Scanlan, the landlord, even that poor simpleton
+the painter&mdash;as he called Crow&mdash;had submitted him to its harsh
+rule, till Mr. Merl felt that, instead of pursuing an examination, he was
+himself everlastingly in the witness-box.
+</p>
+<p>
+Wearied of these speculations, dissatisfied with himself and his fruitless
+journey, he summoned the landlord to ask if that &ldquo;old gent&rdquo; above stairs
+had not a book of some kind, or a newspaper, he could lend him. A ragged
+urchin speedily returned with a key in his hand, saying, &ldquo;That's the key
+of No. 4. Joe says you may go up and search for yourself.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+One more scrupulous might not exactly have fancied the office thus
+suggested to him. He, however, was rather pleased with the investigation,
+and having satisfied himself that the mission was safe, set forth to
+fulfil it. No. 4, as the stranger's room was called, was a large and lofty
+chamber, lighted by a single bay-window, the deep recess of which was
+occupied by a writing-table. Books, maps, letters, and drawings littered
+every part of the room. Costly weapons, too, such as richly chased daggers
+and inlaid pistols, lay carelessly about, with curiously shaped pipes and
+gold-embroidered tobacco-bags; a richly lined fur pelisse covered the
+sofa, and a skull-cap of the very finest sable lay beside it. All these
+were signs of affluence and comfort, and Mr. Merl pondered over them as he
+went from place to place, tossing over one thing after another, and losing
+himself in wild conjectures about the owner.
+</p>
+<p>
+The writing-table, we have said, was thickly strewn with letters, and to
+these he now addressed himself in all form, taking his seat comfortably
+for the investigation. Many of the letters were in foreign languages, and
+from remote and far-away lands. Some he was enabled to spell out, but they
+referred to places and events he had never heard of, and were filled with
+allusions he could not fathom. At length, however, he came to documents
+which interested him more closely. They were notes, most probably in the
+stranger's own hand, of his late tour along the coast. Mournful records
+were they all,&mdash;sad stories of destitution and want, a whole people
+struck down by famine and sickness, and a land perishing in utter misery.
+No personal narrative broke the dreary monotony of these gloomy records,
+and Merl searched in vain for what might give a clew to the writer's
+station or his object. Carefully drawn-up statistics, tables of the
+varying results of emigration, notes upon the tenure of land and the price
+of labor were all there, interspersed with replies from different quarters
+to researches of the writer's making. Numerous appeals to charity,
+entreaties for small loans of money, were mingled with grateful
+acknowledgments for benefits already received. There was much, had he been
+so minded, that Mr. Merl might have learned in this same unauthorized
+inquiry. There were abundant traits of the people displayed, strange
+insight into customs and ways peculiar to them, accurate knowledge, too,
+of the evils of their social condition; and, above all, there were the
+evidences of that curious compound of credulity and distrust, hope and
+fatalism, energy and inertness, which make up the Irish nature.
+</p>
+<p>
+He threw these aside, however, as themes that had no interest for him.
+What had he to do with the people? His care was with the soil, and less
+even with it than with its burdens and incumbrances. One conviction
+certainly did impress itself strongly upon him,&mdash;that he 'd part with
+his claims on the estate for almost anything, in preference to himself
+assuming the cares and duties of an Irish landlord,&mdash;a position which
+he summed up by muttering to himself, &ldquo;is simply to have so many acres of
+bad land, with the charge of feeding so many thousands of bad people.&rdquo;
+ Here were suggestions, it is true, how to make them better, coupled with
+details that showed the writer to be one well acquainted with the
+difficulties of his task; here, also, were dark catalogues of crime,
+showing how destitution and vice went hand in hand, and that the seasons
+of suffering were those of lawlessness and violence. Various hands were
+detectable in these documents. Some evinced the easy style and graceful
+penmanship of education; others were written in the gnarled hand of the
+daily, laborer. Many of these were interlined in what Merl soon detected
+to be the stranger's own handwriting; and brief as such remarks were, they
+sufficed to show how carefully their contents had been studied by him.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;What could be the object of all this research? Was he some emissary of
+the Government, sent expressly to obtain this knowledge? Was he employed
+by some section of party politicians, or was he one of those literary
+philanthropists who trade upon the cheap luxury of pitying the poor and
+detailing their sorrows? At all events,&rdquo; thought Mr. Merl, &ldquo;this same
+information seems to have cost him considerable research, and not a little
+money; and as I am under a pledge to give the Captain some account of his
+dear country, here is a capital opportunity to do so, not only with ease,
+but actually with honor.&rdquo; And having formed this resolve, he instantly
+proceeded to its execution. That wonderful little note-book, with its
+strong silver clasps, so full of strange and curious information, was now
+produced; but he soon saw that the various facts to be recorded demanded a
+wider space, and so he set himself to write down on a loose sheet of paper
+notices of the land in tillage or in pasture, the numerical condition of
+the people as compared with former years, their state, their prospects;
+but when he came to tell of the ravages made and still making by
+pestilence amongst them, he actually stopped to reread the records, so
+terrible and astounding were the facts narrated. A dreadful malady walked
+the land, and its victims lay in every house! The villages were
+depopulated, the little clusters of houses at cross roads were stricken,
+the lone shealing on the mountain side, the miserable cottage of the
+dreary moor, were each the scenes of desolation and death. It was as
+though the land were about to be devastated, and the race of man swept
+from its surface! As he read on, he came upon some strictures in the
+stranger's own hand upon these sad events, and perceived how terribly had
+the deserted, neglected state of the people aided the fatal course of the
+epidemic. No hospitals had been provided, no stores of any remedial kind,
+not a doctor for miles around, save an old physician who had been retained
+at Miss Martin's special charge, and who was himself nigh exhausted by the
+fatigue of his office.
+</p>
+<p>
+Mr. Merl laid down his pen to think,&mdash;not, indeed, in any
+compassionate spirit of that suffering people; his sorrows were not for
+those who lay on beds of want and sickness; his whole anxiety was for a
+certain person very dear to his own heart, who had rashly accepted
+securities on a property which, to all seeming, was verging upon ruin;
+this conviction being strongly impressed by the lawless state of the
+country, and the hopelessness of expecting payment from a tenantry so
+circumstanced.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Sympathy, indeed!&rdquo; cried he; &ldquo;I should like to hear of a little sympathy
+for the unlucky fellow who has accepted a mortgage on this confounded
+estate! These wretched creatures have little to lose,&mdash;and even death
+itself ought to be no unwelcome relief to a life like theirs,&mdash;but to
+a man such as I am, with abundance of projects for his spare cash, this is
+a pretty investment! It is not impossible that this philanthropic
+stranger, whoever he be, might buy up my bonds. He should have them a
+bargain,&mdash;ay, by Jove! I'd take off a jolly percentage to touch the
+'ready;' and who knows, what with all his benevolence, his charity, and
+his Christian kindliness, if he 'd not come down handsomely to rescue this
+unhappy people from the hands of a Jew!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+And Mr. Merl laughed pleasantly, for the conceit amused him, and it
+sounded gratefully to his imagination that even his faith could be put out
+to interest, and the tabernacle be turned to good account. The noise of a
+chaise approaching at a sharp trot along the shingly beach startled him
+from his musings, and he had barely time to snatch up the paper on which
+he had scrawled his notes, and hasten downstairs, when the obsequious
+landlord, rushing to the door, ushered in Mr. Barry, and welcomed him back
+again.
+</p>
+<p>
+Merl suffered his door to stand ajar, that he might take a look at the
+stranger as he passed. He was a very large, powerfully built man, somewhat
+stooped by age, but showing even in advanced years signs of a vigorous
+frame and stout constitution; his head was massive, and covered with
+snow-white hair, which descended on the back of his neck. His countenance
+must in youth have been handsome, and even yet bore the expression of a
+frank, generous, but somewhat impetuous nature,&mdash;so at least it
+struck him who now observed it; a character not improbably aided by his
+temper as he entered, for he had returned from scenes of misery and
+suffering, and was in a mood of indignation at the neglect he had just
+witnessed.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You said truly,&rdquo; said he to the landlord. &ldquo;You told me I shouldn't see a
+gentleman for twenty miles round; that all had fled and left the people to
+their fate, and I see now it is a fact.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Faix, and no wonder,&rdquo; answered the host. &ldquo;Wet potatoes and the shaking
+ague, not to speak of cholera morbus, is n't great inducements to stay and
+keep company with. I 'd be off, too, if I had the means.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;But I spoke of gentlemen, sir,&rdquo; said the stranger, with a strong emphasis
+on the word,&mdash;&ldquo;men who should be the first to prove their birth and
+blood when a season of peril was near.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Thrue for you, sir,&rdquo; chimed in Joe, who suddenly detected the blunder he
+had committed. &ldquo;The Martins ought not to have run away in the middle of
+our distress.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;They left the ship in a storm; they 'll find a sorry wreck when they
+return to it,&rdquo; muttered the stranger, as he ascended the stairs.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;By Jacob! just what I suspected,&rdquo; said Merl to himself, while he closed
+the door; &ldquo;this property won't be worth sixpence, and I am regularly
+'done.'&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+<a name="link2HCH0013" id="link2HCH0013">
+<!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+</p>
+<div style="height: 4em;">
+<br /><br /><br /><br />
+</div>
+<h2>
+CHAPTER XIII. A NIGHT OF STORM
+</h2>
+<p>
+The curtains were closely drawn, and a cheerful turf fire blazed in the
+room where Mr. Merl sat at dinner. The fare was excellent, and even rustic
+cookery sufficed to make fresh salmon and mountain mutton and fat
+woodcocks delectable; while the remains of Mr. Scanlan's hamper set forth
+some choice Madeira and several bottles of Sneyd's claret. Nor was he for
+whose entertainment these good things were provided in any way incapable
+of enjoying them. With the peculiar sensuality of his race, he loved his
+dinner all to himself and alone. He delighted in the privileged
+selfishness that isolation conferred, and he revelled in a sort of
+complacent flattery at the thought of all the people who were dining worse
+than himself, and the stray thousands besides who were not destined on
+that day to dine at all.
+</p>
+<p>
+The self-caressing shudder that came over him as the sound of a horse at
+speed on the shore outside was heard, spoke plainly as words themselves
+the pleasant comparison that crossed his mind between the condition of the
+rider and his own. He drew nearer the fire, he threw on a fresh log of
+pine, and, filling up a bumper, seemed to linger as he viewed it, as
+though wishing health and innumerable blessings to Mr. Herman Merl.
+</p>
+<p>
+The noise of the clattering hoofs died away in distance and in the greater
+uproar of the storm, and Mr. Merl thought no more of them. How often
+happens it, dear reader, that some brief interruption flashes through our
+seasons of enjoyment; we are startled, perhaps; we even need a word or two
+to reassure us that all is well, and then the work of pleasure goes on,
+and we forget that it had ever been retarded; and yet, depend upon it, in
+that fleeting second of time some sad episode of human life has, like a
+spectre, crossed our path, and some deep sorrow gone wearily past us.
+</p>
+<p>
+Let us follow that rider, then, who now, quitting the bleak shore, has
+entered a deep gorge between the mountain. The rain swept along in
+torrents; the wind in fitful gusts dashes the mountain stream in many a
+wayward shape, and snaps the stems of old trees in pieces; landslips and
+broken rocks impede the way; and yet that brave horse holds ever onward,
+now stretching to a fast gallop, now gathering himself to clear some
+foaming torrent, or some fragment of fallen timber.
+</p>
+<p>
+The night is so dark that the rider cannot see the horse's length in
+advance; but every feature of the way is well known, and an instinctive
+sense of the peril to be apprehended at each particular spot guides that
+hand and nerves that heart. Mary Martin&mdash;for she it is&mdash;had
+ridden that same path at all seasons and all hours, but never on a wilder
+night, nor through a more terrible hurricane than this. At moments her
+speed relaxed, as if to breathe her horse; and twice she pulled up short,
+to listen and distinguish between the sound of thunder and the crashing
+noise of rocks rolling from the mountain. There was a sublimity in the
+scene, lit up at moments by the lightning; and a sense of peril, too, that
+exalted the adventurous spirit of the girl, and imparted to her heart a
+high heroic feeling. The glorious sentiment of confronting danger animated
+and excited her; and her courage rose with each new difficulty of the way,
+till her very brain seemed to reel with the wild transport of her
+emotions.
+</p>
+<p>
+As she emerged from the gorge, she gained a high tableland, over which the
+wind swept unimpeded. Not a cliff, not a rock, not a tree, broke the force
+of the gale, which raged with all the violence of a storm at sea.
+Crouching low upon the saddle, stooping at times to the mane, she could
+barely make way against the hurricane; and more than once her noble
+charger was driven backward, and forced to turn his back to the storm. <i>Her</i>
+courage never failed. Taking advantage of every passing lull, she dashed
+forward, ready to wheel and halt when the wind shot past with violence.
+</p>
+<p>
+Descending at last from this elevated plateau, she again entered a deep
+cleft between the mountain, the road littered with fallen earth and
+branches of trees, so as almost to defy a passage. After traversing
+upwards of a mile of this wearisome way, she arrived at the door of a
+small cabin, the first trace of habitation since she had quitted the
+village. It was a mere hovel, abutting against a rock, and in its dreary
+solitude seemed the last refuge of direst poverty.
+</p>
+<p>
+She bent down from her saddle to look in at the window; but, except some
+faint embers on the hearth, all was dark within. She then knocked with her
+whip against the door, and called &ldquo;Morris&rdquo; two or three times; but no
+reply was given. Springing from her horse, Mary fastened the bridle to the
+hasp of the door-post, and entered. The heavy breathing of one in deep
+sleep at once caught her attention > and, approaching the fireplace, she
+lighted a piece of pine-wood to examine about her. On a low settle in one
+corner lay the figure of a young woman, whose pale, pinched features
+contrasted strongly with the bright ribbons of her cap floating loosely at
+either side. Mary tottered as she drew nigher; a terrible sense of fear
+was over her,&mdash;a terror of she knew not what. She held the flickering
+flame closer, and saw that she was dead! Poor Margaret, she had been one
+of Mary's chief favorites; the very cap that now decked her cold forehead
+was Mary's wedding-gift to her. But a few days before, her little child
+had been carried to the churchyard; and it was said that the mother never
+held up her head after. Sick almost to fainting, Mary Martin sank into a
+chair, and then saw, for the first time, the figure of a man, who, half
+kneeling, lay with his head on the foot of the bed, fast asleep!
+Weariness, utter exhaustion, were marked in his pale-worn features, while
+his attitude bespoke complete prostration. His hand still clasped a little
+rosary.
+</p>
+<p>
+<a name="linkimage-0006" id="linkimage-0006">
+<!-- IMG --></a>
+</p>
+<div class="fig" style="width:80%;">
+<img src="images/156.jpg" width="100%" alt="156 " />
+</div>
+<p>
+It seemed but the other day that she had wished them &ldquo;joy&rdquo; upon their
+wedding, and they had gone home to their little cabin in hopefulness and
+high-hearted spirit, and there she lay now a cold corpse, and he, bereaved
+and childless. What a deal of sad philosophy do these words reveal! What
+dark contrasts do we bring up when we say, &ldquo;It was but the other day.&rdquo; It
+was but &ldquo;the other day,&rdquo; and Cro' Martin was the home of one whose
+thriving tenantry reflected back all his efforts for their welfare, when
+movement and occupation bespoke a condition of activity and cheerful
+industry; when, even in their poverty, the people bore bravely up, and the
+cases of suffering but sufficed to call out traits of benevolence and kind
+feeling. It was but &ldquo;the other day,&rdquo; and Mary herself rode out amidst the
+people, like some beloved sovereign in the middle of her subjects; happy
+faces beamed brighter when she came, and even misery half forgot itself in
+her presence. But &ldquo;the other day&rdquo; and the flag waved proudly from the
+great tower, to show that Cro' Martin was the residence of its owner, and
+Mary the life and soul of all that household!
+</p>
+<p>
+Such-like were her thoughts as she stood still gazing on the sad scene
+before her. She could not bring herself to awaken the poor fellow, who
+thus, perchance, stole a short respite from his sorrows; but leaving some
+money beside him on a chair, and taking one farewell look of poor
+Margaret, she stole silently away, and remounted her horse.
+</p>
+<p>
+Again she is away through the storm and the tempest! Her pace is now urged
+to speed, for she knows every field and every fence,&mdash;where to press
+her horse to his gallop, where to spare and husband his strength. At one
+moment she steals carefully along amid fragments of fallen rocks and
+broken timber; at another, she flies, with racing speed, over the smooth
+sward. At length, through the gloom and darkness, the tall towers of Cro'
+Martin are seen over the deep woods; but her horse's head is not turned
+thitherward. No; she has taken another direction, and, skirting the wall
+of the demesne, she is off towards the wild, bleak country beyond. It is
+past midnight; not a light gleams from a cabin window as she dashes past;
+all is silent save the plashing rain, which, though the wind has abated,
+continues to fall in torrents. Crossing the bleak moor, whose yawning pits
+even in daylight suggest care and watchfulness, she gains the foot of the
+barren mountain on which Barnagheela stands, and descries in the distance
+the flickering of a light dimly traceable through the falling rain.
+</p>
+<p>
+For the first time her horse shows signs of fatigue, and Mary caresses him
+with her hand, and speaks encouragingly to him as she slackens her pace,
+ascending the hill at a slow walk. After about half an hour of this
+toilsome progress, for the surface is stony and rock-covered, she reaches
+the little &ldquo;boreen&rdquo; road which forms the approach to the house. Mary has
+never been there before, and advances now slowly and carefully between two
+rude walls of dry masonry which lead to the hall-door. As she nears the
+house, the gleam of lights from between the ill-closed shutters attracts
+her, and suddenly through the swooping rain come the sounds of several
+voices in tones of riot and revelry. She listens; and it is now the rude
+burst of applause that breaks forth,&mdash;a din of voices loudly
+proclaiming the hearty approval of some sentiment or opinion.
+</p>
+<p>
+While she halts to determine what course next to follow,&mdash;for these
+signs of revelry have disconcerted her,&mdash;she hears a rough, loud
+voice from within call out, &ldquo;There's another toast you must drink now, and
+fill for it to the brim. Come, Peter Hayes, no skulking; the liquor is
+good, and the sentiment the same. Gentlemen, you came here to-night to
+honor my poor house&mdash;my ancestral house, I may call it&mdash;on the
+victory we 've gained over tyranny and oppression.&rdquo; Loud cheers here
+interrupted him, but he resumed: &ldquo;They tried&mdash;by the aid of the law
+that they made themselves&mdash;to turn me out of my house and home. They
+did all that false swearing and forged writing could do, to drive me&mdash;me,
+Tom Magennis, the last of an ancient stock&mdash;out upon the highways.&rdquo;
+ (Groans from the hearers.) &ldquo;But they failed,&mdash;ay, gentlemen, they
+failed. Old Repton, with all his skill, and Scanlan, with all his
+treachery, could n't do it. Joe Nelligan, like Goliath&mdash;no, like
+David, I mean&mdash;put a stone between their two eyes, and laid them
+low.&rdquo; (Loud cheering, and cries of &ldquo;Why is n't he here?&rdquo; &ldquo;Where is he
+to-night?&rdquo;) &ldquo;Ay, gentlemen,&rdquo; resumed the speaker, &ldquo;ye may well ask where
+is he this night? when we are celebrating not only our triumph, but his;
+for it was the first brief he ever held,&mdash;the first guinea he ever
+touched for a fee! I 'll tell you where he is. Skulking&mdash;ay, that's
+the word for it&mdash;skulking in Oughterard,&mdash;hiding himself for
+shame because he beat the Martins!&rdquo; ( Loud expressions of anger, and some
+of dissent, here broke forth; some inveighing against this cowardice,
+others defending him against the charge.) &ldquo;Say what you like,&rdquo; roared
+Magennis; &ldquo;I know, and he knows that I know it. What was it he said when
+Mahony went to him with my brief? 'I'll not refuse to undertake the case,'
+said he, 'but I 'll not lend myself to any scurrilous attack upon the
+family at Cro' Martin!'&rdquo; (Groans.) &ldquo;Ay, but listen,&rdquo; continued he: &ldquo;'And
+if I find,' said he&mdash;'if I find that in the course of the case such
+an attempt should be made, I 'll throw down my brief though I never should
+hold another.' There's Joe Nelligan for you! There's the stuff you thought
+you 'd make a Patriot out of!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Say what you like, Tom Magennis, he's a credit to the town,&rdquo; said old
+Hayes, &ldquo;and he won your cause this day against one of the 'cutest of the
+Dublin counsellors.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;He did so, sir,&rdquo; resumed Magennis, &ldquo;and he got his pay, and there's
+nothing between us; and I told him so, and more besides; for I said, 'You
+may flatter them and crawl to them; you may be as servile as a serpent or
+a boa-constrictor to them; but take <i>my</i> word for it, Mister Joe,&mdash;or
+Counsellor Nelligan, if you like it better,&mdash;they'll never forget who
+and what you are,&mdash;the son of old Dan there, of the High Street,&mdash;and
+you 've a better chance to be the Chief Justice than the husband of Mary
+Martin!'&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You told him that!&rdquo; cried several together. &ldquo;I did, sir; and I believe
+for a minute he meant to strike me; he got pale with passion, and then he
+got red&mdash;blood red; and, in that thick way he has when he 's angry,
+he said, 'Whatever may be my hopes of the Bench, I'll not win my way to it
+by ever again undertaking the cause of a ruffian!' 'Do you mean <i>me?</i>'
+said I,&mdash;'do you mean <i>me?</i>' But he turned away into the house,
+and I never saw him since. If it had n't been for Father Neal there, I 'd
+have had him out for it, sir!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;We've other work before us than quarrelling amongst ourselves,&rdquo; said the
+bland voice of Father Rafferty; &ldquo;and now for your toast, Tom, for I 'm dry
+waiting for it.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Here it is, then,&rdquo; cried Magennis. &ldquo;A speedy downfall to the Martins!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;A speedy downfall to the Martins!&rdquo; was repeated solemnly in chorus; while
+old Hayes interposed, &ldquo;Barring the niece,&mdash;barring Miss Mary.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I won't except one,&rdquo; cried Magennis. &ldquo;My august leader remarked, 'It was
+false pity for individuals destroyed the great revolution of France.' It
+was&mdash;&rdquo; Mary did not wait for more, but, turning her horse's head,
+moved slowly around towards the back of the house.
+</p>
+<p>
+Through a wide space, of which the rickety broken gate hung by a single
+hinge, Mary entered a large yard, a court littered with disabled carts,
+harrows, and other field implements, all equally unserviceable. Beneath a
+low shed along one of the walls stood three or four horses, with harness
+on them, evidently belonging to the guests assembled within. All these
+details were plainly visible by the glare of an immense fire which blazed
+on the kitchen hearth, and threw its light more than half-way across the
+yard. Having disposed of her horse at one end of the shed, Mary stealthily
+drew nigh the kitchen window, and looked in. An old, very old woman, in
+the meanest attire, sat crouching beside the fire; and although she held a
+huge wooden ladle in her hand, seemed, by her drooped head and bent-down
+attitude, either moping or asleep. Various cooking utensils were on the
+fire, and two or three joints of meat hung roasting before it, while the
+hearth was strewn with dishes, awaiting the savory fare that was to fill
+them.
+</p>
+<p>
+These, and many other indications of the festivity then going on within,
+Mary rapidly noticed; but it was evident, from the increasing eagerness of
+her gaze, that the object which she sought had not yet met her eye.
+Suddenly, however, the door of the kitchen opened and a figure entered, on
+which the young girl bent all her attention. It was Joan Landy, but how
+different from the half-timid, half-reckless peasant girl that last we saw
+her! Dressed in a heavy gown of white satin, looped up on either side with
+wreaths of flowers, and wearing a rich lace cap on her head, she rushed
+hurriedly in, her face deeply flushed, and her eyes sparkling with
+excitement. Hastily snatching up a check apron that lay on a chair, she
+fastened it about her, and drew near the fire. It was plain from her
+gesture, as she took the ladle from the old woman's hand, that she was
+angry, and by her manner seemed as if rebuking her. The old crone,
+however, only crouched lower, and spreading out her wasted fingers towards
+the blaze, appeared insensible to everything addressed to her. Meanwhile
+Joan busied herself about the fire with all the zealous activity of one
+accustomed to the task. Mary watched her intently; she scrutinized with
+piercing keenness every lineament of that face, now moved by its passing
+emotions, and she muttered to herself, &ldquo;Alas, I have come in vain!&rdquo; Nor
+was this depressing sentiment less felt as Joan, turning from the fire,
+approached a fragment of a broken looking-glass that stood against the
+wall. Drawing herself up to her full height, she stood gazing proudly,
+delightedly, at her own figure. The humble apron, too, was speedily
+discarded, and as she trampled it beneath her feet she seemed to spurn the
+mean condition of which it was the symbol. Mary Martin sighed deeply as
+she looked, and muttered once more, &ldquo;In vain!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Then suddenly starting, with one of those bursts of energy which so often
+had steeled her heart against peril, she walked to the kitchen-door,
+raised the latch, and entered. She had made but one step within the door
+when Joan turned and beheld her; and there they both stood, silently, each
+surveying the other. Mary felt too intensely the difficulty of the task
+before her to utter a word without well weighing the consequences. She
+knew how the merest accident might frustrate all she had in view, and
+stood hesitating and uncertain, when Joan, who now recognized her,
+vacillated between her instinctive sense of respect and a feeling of
+defiance in the consciousness of where she was. Happily for Mary the
+former sentiment prevailed, and in a tone of kindly anxiety Joan drew near
+her and said,&mdash;&ldquo;Has anything happened? I trust in God no accident has
+befell you.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Thank God, nothing worse than a wetting,&rdquo; said Mary,&mdash;&ldquo;some little
+fatigue; and I'll think but little of either if they have brought me here
+to a good end. May I speak with you alone,&mdash;quite alone?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Come in here,&rdquo; said Joan, pushing open the door of a small room off the
+kitchen which served for a species of larder,&mdash;&ldquo;come in here.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I have come on a sad errand,&rdquo; said Mary, taking her hand between both her
+own, &ldquo;and I would that it had fallen to any other than myself. It is for
+you to decide that! have not come in vain.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;What is it? tell me what it is?&rdquo; cried Joan, as a sudden paleness spread
+over her features.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;These are days of sorrow and mourning everywhere,&rdquo; said Mary, gloomily.
+&ldquo;Can you not guess what my tidings may be? No, no,&rdquo; cried she, as a sudden
+gesture of Joan interrupted her,&mdash;&ldquo;no, not yet; he is still alive,
+and entreats to see you.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;To curse me again, is it?&rdquo; cried the other, wildly; &ldquo;to turn me from the
+door, and pray down curses on me,&mdash;is it for that he wants to see
+me?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Not for that, indeed,&rdquo; said Mary; &ldquo;it is to see you&mdash;to give you his
+last kiss&mdash;his last blessing&mdash;to forgive you and be forgiven.
+Remember that he is alone, deserted by all that once were his. Your father
+and mother and sisters are all gone to America, and poor old Mat lingers
+on,&mdash;nay, the journey is nigh ended. Oh, do not delay, lest it be too
+late. Come now&mdash;now.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And if I see him once, can I ever come back to this?&rdquo; cried Joan, in
+bitter agony. &ldquo;Will I ever be able to hear his words and live as I do
+now?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+<a name="linkimage-0007" id="linkimage-0007">
+<!-- IMG --></a>
+</p>
+<div class="fig" style="width:80%;">
+<img src="images/162.jpg" width="100%" alt="162 " />
+</div>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Let your own good heart guide you for that,&rdquo; cried Mary; &ldquo;all I ask is
+that you should see him and be with him. I have pledged myself for your
+coming, and you will not dishonor my words to one on his death-bed.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And I 'll be an outcast for it. Tom will drive me from the door and never
+see me again. I know it,&mdash;I know <i>him</i>!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You are wrong, Joan Landy.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Joan!&mdash;who dares to call me Joan Landy when I'm Mrs. Magennis of
+Barnagheela? and if <i>I'm</i> not <i>your</i> equal, I 'm as good as any
+other in the barony. Was it to insult me you came here to-night, to bring
+up to me who I am and where I came from? That 's the errand that brought
+you through the storm! Ay,&rdquo; cried she, lashed to a wilder passion by her
+own words,&mdash;&ldquo;ay! ay! and if you and yours had their will we 'd not
+have the roof to shelter us this night. It 's only to-day that we won the
+trial against you.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Whatever my errand here this night,&rdquo; said Mary, with a calm dignity, &ldquo;it
+was meant to serve and not insult you. I know, as well as your bitterest
+words can tell me, that this is not my place; but I know, too, if from
+yielding to my selfish pride I had refused your old grandfather this last
+request, it had been many a year of bitter reproach to me.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Oh, you 'll break my heart, you will, you will!&rdquo; cried Joan, bitterly.
+&ldquo;You 'll turn the only one that's left against me, and I 'll be alone in
+the world.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Come with me this night, and whatever happen I 'll befriend you,&rdquo; said
+Mary.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And not desert me because I 'm what I am?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Never, Joan, never!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Oh, my blessings on you,&mdash;if the blessing of one like me is any
+good,&rdquo; cried she, kissing Mary's hand fervently. &ldquo;Oh, they that praised
+you said the truth; you have goodness enough in your heart to make up for
+us all! I 'll go with you to the world's end.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;We'll pass Cro' Martin, and you shall have my horse&mdash;&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;No, no, Miss Mary, I 'll go on my feet; it best becomes me. I 'll go by
+Burnane&mdash;by the Gap&mdash;I know it well&mdash;too well!&rdquo; added she,
+as the tears rushed to her eyes. As she was speaking, she took off the cap
+she wore and threw it from her; and then removing her dress, put on the
+coarse woollen gown of her daily wear. &ldquo;Oh, God forgive me!&rdquo; cried she,
+&ldquo;if I curse the day that I ever wore better than this.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Mary assisted her with her dress, fastening the hood of her cloak over her
+head, and preparing her, as best she might, for the severe storm she was
+to encounter; and it was plain to see that Joan accepted these little
+services without a thought of by whom they were rendered, so intensely
+occupied was her mind by the enterprise before her. A feverish haste to be
+away marked all she did. It was partly terror lest her escape might be
+prevented; partly a sense of distrust in herself, and that she might
+abandon her own resolution.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Oh, tell me,&rdquo; she cried, as the tears streamed from her eyes, and her
+lips quivered with agony,&mdash;&ldquo;oh, tell me I'm doing right; tell me that
+God's blessing is going with me this night, or I can't do it.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And so it is, dear Joan,&rdquo; said Mary; &ldquo;be of good heart, and Heaven will
+support you. I 'm sure the trial is a sore one.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Oh, is it not to leave this&mdash;to leave him&mdash;maybe forever? To be
+sure, it's forever,&rdquo; cried she, bitterly. &ldquo;He 'll never forgive me!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+A wild burst of revelry now resounded from the parlor, and the discordant
+sounds of half-drunken voices burst upon their ears.
+</p>
+<p>
+Joan started, and gazed wildly around her. The agonized look of her
+features bespoke her dread of detection; and then with a bound she sprung
+madly from the spot, and was away. Mary followed quickly; but before she
+had secured her horse and mounted, the other was already half-way down the
+mountain. Now catching, now losing sight of her again, Mary at last came
+up with her.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Remember, dear Joan,&rdquo; said Mary, &ldquo;there are nine weary miles of mountain
+before you.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I know it well,&rdquo; was the brief reply.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And if you go by Burnane the rocks are slippy with the rain, and the path
+to the shore is full of danger.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;If I was afeard of danger, would I be here?&rdquo; cried she. &ldquo;Oh, Miss Mary,&rdquo;
+ added she, stopping and grasping her hand in both her own, &ldquo;leave me to
+myself; don't come with me,&mdash;it's not one like you ought to keep me
+company.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;But Joan,&mdash;dear Joan,&mdash;I have promised to be your friend, and I
+am not one who forgets a pledge.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;My heart will break; it will break in two if you talk to me. Leave me,
+for the love of Heaven, and let me go my road all alone. There, at the two
+trees there, is the way to Cro' Martin; take it, and may the Saints guide
+you safe home!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And if I do, Joan, will you promise me to come straight back to Cro'
+Martin after you 've seen him? Will you do this?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I will,&mdash;I will,&rdquo; cried she, bathing Mary's hand with her tears as
+she kissed it.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Then God bless and protect you, poor girl!&rdquo; said Mary. &ldquo;It is not for me
+to dictate to your own full heart. Goodbye,&mdash;good-bye.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Before Mary had dried the warm tears that rose to her eyes, Joan was gone.
+</p>
+<p>
+<a name="link2HCH0014" id="link2HCH0014">
+<!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+</p>
+<div style="height: 4em;">
+<br /><br /><br /><br />
+</div>
+<h2>
+CHAPTER XIV. THE END OF A BAR MESS
+</h2>
+<p>
+There are few things more puzzling to the uninitiated than the total
+separation lawyers are able to exercise between their private sentiments
+and the emotions they display in the wear and tear of their profession. So
+widely apart are these two characters, that it is actually difficult to
+understand how they ever can unite in one man. But so it is. He can pass
+his morning in the most virulent assaults upon his learned brother,
+ridiculing his law, laughing at his logic, arraigning his motives,&mdash;nay,
+sometimes ascribing to him some actually base and wicked. Altercations,
+heightened by all that passion stimulated by wit can produce, ensue.
+Nothing that can taunt, provoke, or irritate, is omitted. Personalities
+even are introduced to swell the acrimony of the contest; and yet, when
+the jury have given in their verdict and the court breaks up, the
+gladiators, who seemed only thirsting for each other's blood, are seen
+laughingly going homeward arm-in-arm, mayhap discoursing over the very
+cause which, but an hour back, seemed to have stamped them enemies for the
+rest of life.
+</p>
+<p>
+Doubtless there is a great deal to be pleased at in all this, and, we
+ought to rejoice in the admirable temper by which men can discriminate
+between the faithful performance of a duty and the natural course of their
+affections. Still, small-minded folk&mdash;of which wide category we own
+ourselves to be a part&mdash;may have their misgivings that the excellence
+of this system is not without its alloy, and that even the least ingenious
+of men will ultimately discover how much principle is sapped, and how much
+truthfulness of character is sacrificed in this continual struggle between
+fiction and reality.
+</p>
+<p>
+The Bar is the nursery of the Senate, and it would not be a very fanciful
+speculation were we to ascribe the laxity of purpose, the deficient
+earnestness, and the insincerity of principle we often deplore in our
+public men, to this same legal training.
+</p>
+<p>
+The old lawyer, however, finds no difficulty in the double character. With
+his wig and gown he puts on his sarcasm, his insolence, and his
+incredulity. His brief bag opens to him a Pandora's box of noxious
+influences; and as he passes the precincts of the court, he leaves behind
+him all the amenities of life and all the charities of his nature. The
+young barrister does not find the transmutation so easy. He gives himself
+unreservedly to his client, and does not measure his ardor by the
+instructions in his brief. Let us ask pardon of our reader for what may
+seem <i>a mal à propos</i> digression; but we have been led to these
+remarks by the interests of our story.
+</p>
+<p>
+It was in the large dining-room of the &ldquo;Martin Arms&rdquo; at Oughterard, that a
+party of lawyers spent the evening, some of whose events, elsewhere, our
+last chapter has recorded. It was the Bar mess of the Western Circuit, and
+the chair was filled by no less a person than &ldquo;Father Repton.&rdquo; This able
+&ldquo;leader&rdquo; had determined not to visit the West of Ireland so long as his
+friend Martin remained abroad; but a very urgent entreaty from Scanlan,
+and a pressing request for his presence, had induced him to waive that
+resolve, and come down special to Oughterard for the Magennis case.
+</p>
+<p>
+A simple case of ejectment could scarcely have called for that imposing
+array of learned counsel who had repaired to this unfrequented spot; so
+small a skirmish could never have called for the horse, foot, and dragoons
+of law,&mdash;the wily conveyancer, the clap-trap orator, the browbeater
+of witnesses, and the light sharpshooter at technicalities; and yet there
+they were all met, and&mdash;with all reverence be it spoken&mdash;very
+jolly companions they were.
+</p>
+<p>
+An admirable rule precluded the introduction of, or even an allusion to,
+professional subjects, save when the burden of a joke, whose success might
+excuse the transgression; and thus these crafty, keen intelligences
+argued, disputed, jested, and disported together, in a vein which less
+practised talkers would find it hard to rival. To the practice of these
+social amenities is doubtless ascribable the absence of any rancor from
+the rough contests and collisions of public life, and thus men of every
+shade of politics and party, differing even in class and condition, formed
+admirable social elements, and cohered together to perfection.
+</p>
+<p>
+As the evening wore on, the company insensibly thinned off. Some of the
+hard-workers retired early; a few, whose affectation it was to pretend
+engagements, followed. The &ldquo;juniors&rdquo; repaired in different groups to the
+chambers of their friends, where loo and brandy-and-water awaited them;
+and at last Repton was left, with only two others, sole occupants of that
+spacious apartment. His companions were, like himself, soldiers of the
+&ldquo;Vieille Garde&rdquo; veterans who remembered Curran and Lawrence Parsons, John
+Toler and Saurin, and a host of others, who only needed that the sphere
+should have been greater to be themselves among the great of the nation.
+</p>
+<p>
+Rawlins was Repton's schoolfellow, and had been his rival at the Bar for
+nigh fifty years. Niel, a few years younger than either, was the greatest
+orator of his time. Both had been opposed to Repton in the present suit,
+and had held heavy retainers for their services.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Well, Repton,&rdquo; said Rawlins, as soon as they were left thus to
+themselves, &ldquo;are you pondering over it still? I see that you can't get it
+out of your head.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;It is quite true, I cannot,&rdquo; said Repton. &ldquo;To summon us all down here,&mdash;to
+bring us some fifty miles away from our accustomed beat, for a trumpery
+affair like this, is totally beyond me. Had it been an election time, I
+should probably have understood it.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;How so?&rdquo; cried Niel, in the shrill piercing voice peculiar to him, and
+which imparted to him, even in society, an air of querulous irritability.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;On the principle that Bob Mahon always puts a thoroughbred horse in his
+gig when he drives over to a country race. He's always ready for a match
+with what he jocularly calls 'the old screw I 'm driving this minute;' so,
+Niel, I thought that the retainer for the ejectment might have turned out
+to be a special fee for the election.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And he 'd have given them a speech, and a rare good one, too, I promise
+you,&rdquo; said Rawlins; &ldquo;and even if he had not time to speak it, the county
+paper would have had it all printed and corrected from his own hand, with
+all the appropriate interruption of 'vociferous cheering,' and the places
+where the orator was obliged to pause, from the wild tumult of acclamation
+that surrounded him.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Which all resolves itself into this,&rdquo; screamed Niel,&mdash;&ldquo;that some
+men's after-grass is better than other men's meadows.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Mine has fallen to the scythe many a day ago,&rdquo; said Rawlins, plaintively;
+&ldquo;but I remember glorious times and glorious fellows. It was, indeed, worth
+something to say, '<i>Vixissi cum illis</i>.'&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;There 's another still better, Rawlins,&rdquo; cried Repton, joyously, &ldquo;which
+is to have survived them!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Very true,&rdquo; cried Niel. &ldquo;I 'd always plead a demurrer to any notice to
+quit; for, take it all in all, this life has many enjoyments.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Such as Attorney-Generalships, Masters of the Rolls, and such like,&rdquo; said
+Repton.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;By the way,&rdquo; said Rawlins, &ldquo;who put that squib in the papers about your
+having refused the rolls,&mdash;eh, Niel?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Who but Niel himself?&rdquo; chimed in Repton. &ldquo;It was filing a bill of
+discovery. He wanted to know the intentions of the Government.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I could have had but little doubt of them,&rdquo; broke in Niel. &ldquo;It was my
+advice, man, cancelled your appointment as Crown Counsel, Repton. I told
+Massingbred, 'If you do keep a watch-dog, let it be, at least, one who 'll
+bite some one beside the family.'&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;He has muzzled you there, Repton,&rdquo; said Rawlins, laughing. &ldquo;Eh, that was
+a bitter draught!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;So it was,&rdquo; said Repton. &ldquo;It was Curran wine run to the lees! and very
+unlike the racy flavor of the true liquor. And to speak in all
+seriousness, what has come over us all to be thus degenerate and fallen?
+It is not alone that we have not the equals of the first-rate men, but we
+really have nothing to compare with O'Grady, and Parsons, and a score of
+others.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I 'll tell you why,&rdquo; cried Niel,&mdash;&ldquo;the commodity is n't marketable.
+The stupid men, who will always be the majority everywhere, have got up
+the cry, that to be agreeable is to be vulgar. We know how large cravats
+came into fashion; tiresome people came in with high neckcloths.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I wish they 'd go out with hempen ones, then,&rdquo; muttered Repton.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I 'd not refuse them the benefit of the clergy,&rdquo; said Niel, with a
+malicious twinkle of the eye, that showed how gladly, when occasion
+offered, he flung a pebble at the Church.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;They were very brilliant,&mdash;they were very splendid, I own,&rdquo; said
+Rawlins; &ldquo;but I have certain misgivings that they gave themselves too much
+to society.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Expended too much of their powder in fireworks,&rdquo; cried Niel, sharply,&mdash;&ldquo;so
+they did; but their rockets showed how high they could rise to.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Ay, Niel, and we only burn our fingers with ours,&rdquo; said Repton,
+sarcastically.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Depend upon it,&rdquo; resumed Rawlins, &ldquo;as the world grows more practical, you
+will have less of great convivial display. Agreeability will cease to be
+the prerogative of first-rate men, but be left to the smart people of
+society, who earn their soup by their sayings.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;He's right,&rdquo; cried Niel, in his shrillest tone. &ldquo;The age of alchemists is
+gone; the sleight-of-hand man and the juggler have succeeded him.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And were they not alchemists?&rdquo; exclaimed old Repton, enthusiastically.
+&ldquo;Did they not transmute the veriest dross of the earth, and pour it forth
+from the crucible of their minds a stream of liquid gold?&mdash;glorious
+fellows, who, in the rich abundance of their minds, brought the learning
+of their early days to illustrate the wisdom of their age, and gave the
+fresh-heartedness of the schoolboy to the ripe intelligence of manhood.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And yet how little have they bequeathed to us!&rdquo; said Niel.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Would it were even less,&rdquo; broke in Repton. &ldquo;We read the witticism of
+brilliant conversera in some diary or journal, often ill recorded,
+imperfectly given, always unaccompanied by the accessories of the scene
+wherein they occurred. We have not the crash, the tumult, the headlong
+flow of social intercourse, where the impromptu fell like a thunderbolt,
+and the bon mots rattled like a fire of musketry. To attempt to convey an
+impression of these great talkers by a memoir, is like to picture a battle
+by reading out a list of the killed and wounded.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Repton is right!&rdquo; exclaimed Niel. &ldquo;The recorded bon mot is the words of a
+song without the music.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And often where it was the melody that inspired the verses,&rdquo; added
+Repton, always glad to follow up an illustration.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;After all,&rdquo; said Rawlins, &ldquo;the fashion of the day is changed in other
+respects as well as in conversational excellence. Nothing is like what we
+remember it!&mdash;literature, dress, social habits, oratory. There, for
+instance, was that young fellow to-day; his speech to the jury,&mdash;a
+very good and sensible one, no doubt,&mdash;but how unlike what it would
+have been some five-and-thirty or forty years ago.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;It was first-rate,&rdquo; said Repton, with enthusiasm. &ldquo;I say it frankly, and
+'fas est ab hoste,' for he tripped me up in a point of law, and I have,
+therefore, a right to applaud him. To tell you the truth,&rdquo; he added slyly,
+&ldquo;I knew I was making a revoke, but I thought none of the players were
+shrewd enough to detect me.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Niel and I are doubtless much complimented by the remark,&rdquo; said Rawlins.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Pooh, pooh!&rdquo; cried Repton, &ldquo;what did great guns like you and Niel care
+for such 'small deer.' You were only brought down here as a great <i>corps
+de réserve</i>. It was young Nelligan who fought the battle, and admirably
+he did it. While I was listening to him to-day, I could not help saying to
+myself, 'It's well for us that there were no fellows of this stamp in our
+day.' Ay, Rawlins, you know it well. We were speech-makers; these fellows
+are lawyers.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Why didn't he dine with us to-day?&rdquo; asked Niel, sharply.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Heaven knows. I believe his father lives in the town here; perhaps, too,
+he had no fancy for a dress-parade before such drill-sergeants as you and
+Rawlins there.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You are acquainted with him, I think?&rdquo; asked Rawlins.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yes, slightly; we met strangely enough, at Cro' Martin last year. He was
+then on a visit there, a quiet, timid youth, who actually seemed to feel
+as though his college successes were embarrassing recollections in a
+society who knew nothing of deans or proctors. There was another young
+fellow also there at the time,&mdash;young Massingbred,&mdash;with about a
+tenth of this man's knowledge, and a fiftieth of his capacity, who took
+the lead of him on every subject, and by the bare force of an admirable
+manner and a most unabashed impudence, threw poor Nelligan completely into
+the background. It was the same kind of thing I 've often seen Niel there
+perform at the Four Courts, where he has actually picked up his law from a
+worsted opponent, as a highwayman arms himself with the pistols of the man
+he has robbed.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I never pillaged <i>you</i>, Repton,&rdquo; said Niel, with a sarcastic smile.
+&ldquo;<i>You</i> had always the privilege the poet ascribes to him who laughs
+'before a robber.'&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Vacuus sed non Inanis,&rdquo; replied Repton, laughing good-humoredly.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;But tell us more of this man, Nelligan,&rdquo; said Rawlins. &ldquo;I 'm curious to
+hear about him.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And so you are sure to do some of these days, Rawlins. That fellow is the
+man to attain high eminence.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;His religion will stop him!&rdquo; cried Niel, sharply; for, being himself a
+Romanist, he was not sorry to have an opportunity of alluding to the
+disqualifying element.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Say, rather, it will promote him,&rdquo; chimed in Repton. &ldquo;Take my word for
+it, Niel, there is a spirit of mawkish reparation abroad which affects to
+feel that all your coreligionists have a long arrear due to them, and that
+all the places and emoluments so long withheld from their ancestors should
+be showered down upon the present generation;&mdash;pretty much upon the
+same principle that you 'd pension a man now because his grandfather had
+been hanged for rebellion!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And very justly, too, if you discovered that what you once called
+rebellion had been very good loyalty!&rdquo; cried Niel.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;We have not, however, made the discovery you speak of,&rdquo; said Rep ton; &ldquo;we
+have only commuted a sentence, in the sincere hope that you are wiser than
+your forefathers. But to come back. You may trust me when I say that a day
+is coming when you 'll not only bless yourself because you're a Papist,
+but that you <i>are</i> one! Ay, sir, it is in 'Liffey Street Chapel' we
+'ll seek for an attorney-general, and out of the Church of the Conception,
+if that be the name of it, we 'll cull our law advisers of the Crown. For
+the next five-and-twenty years, at least,&rdquo; said he, solemnly, &ldquo;the
+fourth-rate Catholic will be preferred to the first-rate Protestant.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I only hope you may be better at Prophecy than you are in Logic,&rdquo; cried
+Niel, as he tossed off his glass; &ldquo;and so, I 'm sure, does Nelligan!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And Nelligan is exactly the man who will never need the preference, sir.
+His abilities will raise him, even if there were obstacles to be
+surmounted. It is men of a different stamp that the system will favor,&mdash;fellows
+without industry for the toils of a laborious profession, or talents for
+the subtleties of a difficult career; men who cherish ambition and are yet
+devoid of capacity, and will plead the old disabilities of their faith,&mdash;pretty
+much as a man might claim his right to be thought a good dancer because
+his father had a club foot.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;A most lame conclusion!&rdquo; cried Niel. &ldquo;Ah, Rawlins,&rdquo; added he, with much
+compassion, &ldquo;our poor friend here is breaking terribly. Sad signs there
+are of decay about him. Even his utterance begins to fail him.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;No, no,&rdquo; said Repton, gayly. &ldquo;I know what you allude to. It is an old
+imperfection of mine not to be able to enunciate the letter <i>r</i>
+correctly, and that was the reason today in court that I called you my
+ingenious Bother; but I meant Brother, I assure you.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+They all laughed good-humoredly at the old man's sally; in good truth, so
+trained were they to these sort of combats, that they cared little for the
+wounds such warfare inflicted. And although the tilt was ever understood
+as with &ldquo;reversed lances,&rdquo; none ever cherished an evil memory if an
+unlucky stroke smote too heavily.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I have asked young Nelligan to breakfast with me tomorrow,&rdquo; said Repton;
+&ldquo;will you both come and meet him?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;We 're off at cock-crow!&rdquo; cried Kiel. &ldquo;Tell him, however, from me that I
+am delighted with his <i>débuts</i> and that all the best wishes of my
+friends and myself are with him.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+And so they parted.
+</p>
+<p>
+Repton, however, did not retire to bed at once; his mind was still intent
+upon the subject which had engaged him during the day, and as he walked to
+and fro in his room, he still dwelt upon it. Scanlan's instructions had
+led him to believe that the Martins were in this case to have been &ldquo;put
+upon their title;&rdquo; and the formidable array of counsel employed by
+Magennis seemed to favor the impression. Now it was true that a trifling
+informality in the service of the writ had quashed the proceedings for the
+present; but the question remained, &ldquo;Was the great struggle only reserved
+for a future day?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+It was clear that a man embarrassed as was Magennis could never have
+retained that strong bar of eminent lawyers. From what fund, then, came
+these resources? Was there a combination at work? And if so, to what end,
+and with what object?
+</p>
+<p>
+The crafty old lawyer pondered long and patiently over these things. His
+feelings might not inaptly be compared to those of a commandant of a
+garrison, who sees his stronghold menaced by an enemy he had never
+suspected. Confident as he is in the resources of his position, he yet
+cannot resist the impression that the very threat of attack has been
+prompted by some weakness of which he is unaware.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;To put us on our title,&rdquo; said he, &ldquo;implies a great war. Let us try and
+find out who and what are they who presume to declare it!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+<a name="link2HCH0015" id="link2HCH0015">
+<!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+</p>
+<div style="height: 4em;">
+<br /><br /><br /><br />
+</div>
+<h2>
+CHAPTER XV. A FIRST BRIEF
+</h2>
+<p>
+The reader has been already told that Joe Nelligan had achieved a great
+success in his first case. A disputed point of law had been raised, in
+itself insignificant, but involving in its train a vast variety of
+momentous interests. Repton, with an ingenuity all his own, had contrived
+to draw the discussion beyond its original limits, that he might entangle
+and embarrass the ambitious junior who had dared to confute him. Nelligan
+accepted the challenge at once, and after a stormy discussion of some
+hours came out the victor. For a while his timid manner, and an
+overpowering sense of the great odds against him, seemed to weigh
+oppressively on him. The very successes he had won elsewhere were really
+so many disparagements to him now, giving promise, as it were, of his
+ability. But, despite all these disadvantages, he entered the lists
+manfully and courageously.
+</p>
+<p>
+What a many-sided virtue is this same courage, and how prone is the world
+to award its praises unequally for it! We are enthusiastic for the gallant
+soldier the earliest in the breach, or the glorious sailor who first jumps
+upon the enemy's quarter-deck, and yet we never dream of investing with
+heroism him who dares to combat with the most powerful intellects of
+debate, or enters the field of argument against minds stored with vast
+resources of knowledge, and practised in all the subtleties of
+disputation.
+</p>
+<p>
+It is time, existence is not in the issue; but are there not things a
+thousand times dearer than life at peril? Think of him who has gone on
+from success to success; whose school triumphs have but heralded the riper
+glories of college life; who, rising with each new victory, is hailed by
+that dearest and best of all testimonies,&mdash;the prideful enthusiasm of
+his own age. Fancy him, the victor in every struggle, who has carried all
+before him,&mdash;the vaunted chief of his contemporaries,&mdash;fancy him
+beaten and worsted on his first real field of action. Imagine such a man,
+with all the prestige of his college fame, rudely encountered and overcome
+in the contest of public life, and say if any death ever equalled the
+suffering!
+</p>
+<p>
+Happily, our task has not to record any such failure in the present case.
+Young Nelligan sat down amidst the buzzing sound of approving voices, and
+received a warm eulogy from the Court on the promise of so conspicuous an
+opening. And a proud man was Dan Nelligan on that day! At any other time
+how deeply honored had he felt by the distinguished notice of the great
+dignitaries who now congratulated him on his son's success! With what
+pride had he accepted the polite recognition of Chief Barons and
+silk-gowned &ldquo;leaders&rdquo;! Now, however, his heart had but room for one
+thought,&mdash;Joe himself,&mdash;his own boy,&mdash;the little child as
+it were of yesterday, now a man of mark and note, already stamped with the
+impress of success in what, to every Irishman's heart at least, is the
+first of all professions. The High Sheriff shook old Nelligan's hand in
+open court, and said, &ldquo;It is an honor to our county, Nelligan, to claim
+him.&rdquo; The Judge sent a message that he wished to see him in his
+robing-room, and spoke his warm praises of the &ldquo;admirable speech, as
+remarkable for its legal soundness as for its eloquence;&rdquo; and Repton
+overtook him in the street, and, catching his hand, said, &ldquo;Be proud of
+him, sir, for we are all proud of him.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Mayhap the hope is not a too ambitious one, that some one of those who may
+glance over these humble lines may himself have once stood in the position
+of Joe Nelligan, in so far as regards the hour of his triumph, and have
+felt in his heart the ecstasy of covering with his fame the &ldquo;dear head&rdquo; of
+a father.
+</p>
+<p>
+If so, I ask him boldly,&mdash;whatever may have been the high rewards of
+his later fire, whatever honors may have been showered upon him, however
+great his career, and however brilliant its recognitions,&mdash;has he
+ever, in his proudest moments, tasted such a glorious thrill of delight as
+when he has fallen into his father's arms overcome by the happiness that
+he has made that father proud of him? Oh, ye who have experienced this
+thrill of joy within you, cherish and preserve it. The most glowing
+eulogies of eloquence, the most ornate paragraphs of a flattering press,
+are sorry things in comparison to it. For ourselves, we had rather have
+been Joe Nelligan when, with his father's warm tears dimming his eyes, he
+said, &ldquo;God bless you, my boy!&rdquo; than have gained all the honors that even
+talents like his can command!
+</p>
+<p>
+He could not bear to absent himself from home that day; and although his
+father would gladly have celebrated his triumph by gathering his friends
+about him, Joe entreated that they might be alone. And they were so. The
+great excitement of the day over, a sense of weariness, almost sadness,
+stole over the young man; and while his father continued to relate for his
+mother's hearing various little incidents of the trial, he listened with a
+half-apathetic dreaminess, as though the theme oppressed him. The old man
+dwelt with delight on the flattering attention bestowed by the Court on
+Joseph's address, the signs of concurrence vouchsafed from time to time by
+the Bench, the approving murmur of the Bar while he spoke, and then the
+honest outburst of enthusiasm that shook the very walls as he concluded.
+&ldquo;I tried,&rdquo; continued Dan Nelligan,&mdash;&ldquo;I tried to force my way through
+the crowd, and come and tell you that he had gained the day, but I
+couldn't; they were all around me, shaking my hands, patting me on the
+shoulders, and saying, as if I did n't know it in my own heart, 'He 'll
+make you a proud man yet, Mr. Nelligan.'&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I heard it all, five minutes after it was over,&rdquo; said Mrs. Nelligan; &ldquo;and
+you 'd never guess who told me.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Counsellor Walsh,&rdquo; cried Nelligan.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;No, indeed; I never seen him.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;It was Hosey Lynch, then, for I saw him running like mad through the
+town, spreading the news everywhere.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;It was not Hosey,&rdquo; said she, half contemptuously. &ldquo;I wish, Joe, you'd
+give a guess yourself who told me.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Guess, mother,&mdash;guess who told you what?&rdquo; said he, suddenly starting
+from some deep meditation.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Who told me that you won the cause, and beat all the great counsellors
+from Dublin.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I'm sure, mother, it would be hard for me to say,&rdquo; said Joseph, smiling
+faintly; &ldquo;some of our kind townsfolk, perhaps. Father Neal, old Peter
+Hayes, or&mdash;&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I'll just tell you at once,&rdquo; broke she in, half irritated at the
+suggested source of her information. &ldquo;It was Miss Mary herself, and no
+other.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Miss Martin!&rdquo; exclaimed old Nelligan.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Miss Mary Martin!&rdquo; echoed Joe; while a sickly paleness crept over his
+features, and his lips trembled as he spoke.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;How came you to see her? Where was she?&rdquo; asked Nelligan, eagerly.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I 'll tell you,&rdquo; replied she, with all the methodical preparation by
+which she heralded in the least important communications,&mdash;&ldquo;I 'll
+tell you. I was sitting here, working at the window, and wondering when
+the trial would be over, for the goose that was for dinner was too near
+the fire, and I said to myself&mdash;&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Never mind what you said to yourself,&mdash;confound the goose,&rdquo; broke in
+old Dan, fiercely.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Faith, then, I 'd like to know if you 'd be pleased to eat your dinner on
+the cold loin of veal&mdash;&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;But Miss Martin, mother,&mdash;Miss Martin,&rdquo; urged Joe, impatiently.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I'm coming to her, if you'll let me; but when you flurry me and frighten
+me, I 'm ready to faint. It was last Candlemas you gave me a start, Dan,
+about&mdash;what was it, now? Lucky Mason's dog, I believe. No, it was the
+chimney took fire&mdash;&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Will you just go back to Miss Martin, if you please,&rdquo; said old Nelligan,
+sternly.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I wish I knew where I was,&mdash;what I was saying last,&rdquo; said she, in a
+tone of deep sorrow and contrition.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You were going to say how Miss Mary told you all about the trial,
+mother,&rdquo; said Joe, taking her hand kindly within his own.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yes, darling; now I remember it all. I was sitting here at the window
+hemming them handkerchiefs of yours, and I heard a sharp sound of a horse
+coming along quick, and, by the way he cantered, I said to myself, 'I know
+<i>you</i>,' and, sure enough, when I opened the window, there she was,
+Miss Mary herself, all dripping with wet, and her hat flattened on her
+face, at the door.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;'Don't ask me to get down, Mrs. Nelligan,' said she, 'for I'm in a great
+hurry. I have to ride out to Kilkieran with this'&mdash;and she showed me
+a bottle she had in the pocket of her saddle. 'I only called to tell you
+that your son has gained another&mdash;' What was it she called it?&mdash;a
+victory, or a battle,&mdash;no, it was something else&mdash;&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Never mind&mdash;go on,&rdquo; cried Joe; &ldquo;and then?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;'But, my dear Miss Mary,' says I, 'you 're wet through and through. It's
+more than your life's worth to go off now another ten miles. I'll send our
+gossoon, Mickey Slater, with the medicine, if you 'll just come in and
+stay with us.' I did n't say to dinner, for I was ashamed to ask her to
+that.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;'I should be delighted, Mrs. Nelligan,' said she, 'but it is impossible
+to-day. I 'd have stayed and asked you for my dinner,'&mdash;her very
+words,&mdash;'asked you for my dinner, but I have promised poor Mat Landy
+to go back to him. But perhaps it is as well as it is; and my aunt Dorothy
+might say, if she heard of it, that it was a strange choice I had made of
+a festive occasion,&mdash;the day on which we were beaten, and the society
+of him that worsted us.'
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;'Oh, but, Miss Mary,' says I, 'sure you don't think the worse of poor Joe&mdash;'
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;'I never thought more highly of him, my dear Mrs. Nelligan,' said she,
+'than at this moment; and, whatever others may say or think, I'll maintain
+my opinion, that he is a credit to us all. Good-bye! good-bye!' and then
+she turned short round, and said, 'I can't answer for how my uncle may
+feel about what has occurred to-day, but you know <i>my</i> sentiments.
+Farewell!' And with that she was off; indeed, before I had time to shut
+down the window, she was out of sight and away.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;She ought to know, and she will know, that Joe never said one hard thing
+of her family. And though he had in his brief enough to tempt him to bring
+the Martins up for judgment, not a word, not a syllable did he utter.&rdquo;
+ This old Nelligan spoke with a proud consciousness of his son's honorable
+conduct.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Good heavens!&rdquo; exclaimed Joe, &ldquo;is it not enough that a man sells his
+intellect, pawns his capacity, and makes traffic of his brains, without
+being called on to market his very nature, and set up his very emotions
+for sale? If my calling demands this at my hands, I have done with it,&mdash;I
+renounce it.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;But I said you refrained, Joe. I remarked that you would not suffer the
+heat of discussion to draw you into an angry attack&mdash;&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And you praise me for it!&rdquo; broke in Joe, passionately. &ldquo;You deem it an
+occasion to compliment me, that, in defending the cause of a worthless
+debauchee, I did not seize with avidity the happy moment to assail an
+honorable gentleman; and not alone you, but a dozen others, congratulated
+me on this reserve,&mdash;this constraint,&mdash;as though the lawyer were
+but a bravo, and, his stiletto once paid for, he must produce the body of
+his victim. I regard my profession in another and a higher light; but if
+even its practice were the noblest that could engage human faculties, and
+its rewards the highest that could crown them, I'd quit it tomorrow, were
+its price to be the sacrifice of an honorable self-esteem and the regard
+of&mdash;of those we care for.&rdquo; And in the difficult utterance of the last
+words his cheek became crimson, and his lip trembled.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I 'll tell you what you 'll do, Joe,&rdquo; said his mother, whose kindness was
+not invariably distinguished by tact,&mdash;&ldquo;just come over with <i>me</i>
+to-morrow to Cro' Martin. I 'm going to get slips of the oak-leaf geranium
+and the dwarf rose, and we 'll just go together in a friendly way, and
+when we 're there you 'll have some opportunity or other to tell Miss Mary
+that it wasn't your fault for being against them.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;He 'll do no such thing,&rdquo; broke in Nelligan, fiercely. &ldquo;Miss Mary Martin
+wants no apologies,&mdash;her family have no right to any. Joe is a member
+of a high and powerful profession. If he does n't fill as great a place
+now, who knows where he 'll not be this day fifteen years, eh, my boy?
+Maybe I 'll not be here to see,&mdash;indeed, it's more than likely I 'll
+not,&mdash;but I know it now. I feel as sure of it as I do that my name 's
+Dan.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And if you are not to see it, father,&rdquo; said Joe, as he pressed his
+father's hand between both his own,&mdash;&ldquo;you and my dearest mother,&mdash;the
+prize will be nigh valueless. If I cannot, when my reward is won, come
+home,&mdash;to such a home as this,&mdash;the victory will be too late.&rdquo;
+ And so saying he rose abruptly, and hurried from the room. The moment
+after he had locked his door, and, flinging himself upon his bed, buried
+his face between his hands.
+</p>
+<p>
+With all the proud sensations of having achieved a great success, his
+heart was heavily oppressed. It seemed to him as though Destiny had
+decreed that his duty should ever place him in antagonism to his
+affections. Up to a short period before this trial came on he had
+frequently been in Miss Martin's company. Now, it was some trifling
+message for his mother; now, some book he had himself promised to fetch
+her; then visits to the sick&mdash;and Joe, latterly, had taken a most
+benevolent turn&mdash;had constantly brought them together; and often,
+when Mary was on foot, Joe had accompanied her to the gates of the
+demesne. In these meetings one subject usually occupied them,&mdash;the
+sad condition of the country, the destitution of the poor,&mdash;and on
+this theme their sympathies and hopes and fears all agreed. It was not
+only that they concurred in their views of the national character, but
+that they attributed its traits of good or evil to the very same causes;
+and while Nelligan was amazed at finding the daughter of a proud house
+deeply conversant with the daily life of the humblest peasant, she, too,
+was astonished how sincere in his respect for rank, how loyal in his
+devotion to the claims of blood, was one whose birth might have proclaimed
+him a democrat and a destroyer.
+</p>
+<p>
+These daily discussions led them closer and closer to each other, till at
+length confidences grew up between them, and Mary owned to many of the
+difficulties that her lone and solitary station exposed her to. Many
+things were done on the property without&mdash;some in direct opposition
+to&mdash;her concurrence. As she once said herself, &ldquo;We are so ready to
+satisfy our consciences by assuming that whatever we may do legally we
+have a right to do morally, and at the same time, in the actual condition
+of Ireland, what is just may be practically the very heaviest of all
+hardships.&rdquo; This observation was made with reference to some law
+proceedings of Scanlan's instituting, and the day after she chanced to
+make it Joe started for Dublin. It was there that Magennis's attorney had
+sent him the brief in that cause,&mdash;a charge which the etiquette of
+his profession precluded his declining.
+</p>
+<p>
+In what way he discharged the trust we have seen,&mdash;what sorrow it
+cost him is more than we can describe. &ldquo;Miss Martin,&rdquo; thought he, &ldquo;would
+know nothing of the rules which prescribe our practice, and will look upon
+my conduct here as a treason. For weeks long she has conversed with me in
+candor over the state of the county and its people; we separate for a few
+days, and she finds me arrayed with others against the interests of her
+family, and actually paid to employ against her the very knowledge she has
+imparted to me! What a career have I chosen,&rdquo; cried he, in his agony, &ldquo;if
+every success is to be purchased at such a price!&rdquo; With such men as
+Magennis he had nothing in common; their society, their habits, their
+opinions were all distasteful to him, and yet it was for him and his he
+was to sacrifice the dearest hope of his heart,&mdash;to lose the good
+esteem of one whose praise he had accounted more costly than the highest
+distinction a sovereign could bestow on him. &ldquo;And what a false position
+mine!&rdquo; cried he again. &ldquo;Associated by the very closest ties with a party
+not one of whose objects have my sympathies, I see myself separated by
+blood, birth, and station from all that I venerate and respect. I must
+either be a traitor to my own or to myself; declare my enmity to all I
+think most highly of, or suffer my motives to be impugned and my fame
+tarnished.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+There was, indeed, one circumstance in this transaction which displeased
+him greatly, and of which he was only aware when too late. The Magennis
+defence had been &ldquo;got up&rdquo; by a subscription,&mdash;a fund to which
+Joseph's own father had contributed. Amongst the machinery of attack upon
+the landed gentry, Father Neal Rafferty had suggested the expediency of
+&ldquo;putting them on their titles&rdquo; in cases the most trivial and
+insignificant. Forfeiture and confiscation had followed each other so
+frequently in Irish history,&mdash;grants and revocations were so mixed up
+together,&mdash;some attested in all formality, others irregular and
+imperfect,&mdash;that it was currently believed there was scarcely one
+single estate of the whole province could establish a clear and
+indisputable title. The project was, therefore, a bold one which, while
+disturbing the rights of property, should also bring under discussion so
+many vexed questions of English rule and tyranny over the Irish. Libraries
+and cabinets were ransacked for ancient maps of the counties; and old
+records were consulted to ascertain how far the original conditions of
+service, and so forth, had been complied with on which these estates were
+held.
+</p>
+<p>
+Joseph had frequently carried home books from the library of Cro' Martin,
+rare and curious volumes, which bore upon the ancient history of the
+country. And now there crossed him the horrible suspicion that the whole
+scheme of this attack might be laid to his charge, the information to
+substantiate which he had thus surreptitiously-obtained. It was clear
+enough, from what his mother had said, that such was not Miss Martin's
+present impression; but who could say what representations might be made
+to her, and what change effected in her sentiments? &ldquo;And this,&rdquo; cried he,
+in indignation&mdash;&ldquo;and this is the great career I used to long for!&mdash;this
+the broad highway I once fancied was to lead me to honor and distinction!
+Or is it, after all, my own fault, for endeavoring to reconcile two-things
+which never can have any agreement,&mdash;an humble origin and high
+aspirings? Were I an Englishman, the difficulty would not be impassable;
+but here, in Ireland, the brand of a lowly fortune and a despised race is
+upon me. Can I&mdash;dare I resist it?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+A long and arduous conflict was that in which he passed the night,&mdash;now
+inclining to abandon his profession forever, now to leave Ireland and join
+the English or some Colonial Bar; and at length, as day was breaking, and
+as though the fresh morning air which now blew upon him from his open
+window had given fresh energy to his nature, he determined he would
+persist in his career in his own country. &ldquo;<i>My</i> fate shall be an
+example or a warning!&rdquo; cried he. &ldquo;They who come after me shall know
+whether there be rewards within reach of honest toil and steady industry
+without the contamination of a mock patriotism! If I <i>do</i> rise, it
+shall be from no aid derived from a party or a faction; and if I fail, I
+bring no discredit upon 'my order.'&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+There are men who can so discipline their minds that they have but to
+establish a law to their actions to make their whole lives &ldquo;a system.&rdquo;
+ Such individuals the Germans not inaptly call &ldquo;self-contained men,&rdquo; and of
+these was Joe Nelligan one.
+</p>
+<p>
+A certain concentration of his faculties, and the fatigues of a whole
+night passed thus in thought, gave a careworn, exhausted look to his
+features as he entered the room where Repton sat awaiting him for
+breakfast.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I see what's the matter with you,&rdquo; said the old lawyer, as he entered.
+&ldquo;You have passed the night after a 'first brief.' This day ten years
+you'll speak five hours before the Lords 'in error,' and never lose a wink
+of sleep after it's over!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+<a name="link2HCH0016" id="link2HCH0016">
+<!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+</p>
+<div style="height: 4em;">
+<br /><br /><br /><br />
+</div>
+<h2>
+CHAPTER XVI. MR. REPTON LOOKS IN
+</h2>
+<p>
+On the day after that some of whose events we have just recorded, and
+towards nightfall, Mary Martin slowly drove along the darkly wooded avenue
+of Cro' Martin. An unusual sadness overweighed her. She was just returning
+from the funeral of poor old Mat Landy, one of her oldest favorites as a
+child. He it was who first taught her to hold an oar; and, seated beside
+him, she first learned to steer a &ldquo;corragh&rdquo; through the wild waves of the
+Atlantic. His honest, simple nature, his fine manly contentedness with a
+very humble lot, and a cheerful gayety of heart that seemed never to
+desert him, were all traits likely to impress such a child as she had been
+and make his companionship a pleasure. With a heavy heart was it,
+therefore, now that she thought over these things, muttering to herself as
+she went along snatches of the old songs he used to sing, and repeating
+mournfully the little simple proverbs he would utter about the weather.
+</p>
+<p>
+The last scene itself had been singularly mournful. Two fishermen of the
+coast alone accompanied the car which bore the coffin; death or sickness
+was in every house; few could be spared to minister to the dead, and even
+of those, the pale shrunk features and tottering limbs bespoke how dearly
+the duty cost them. Old Mat had chosen for his last resting-place a little
+churchyard that crowned a cliff over the sea,&mdash;a wild, solitary spot,&mdash;an
+old gable, a ruined wall, a few low gravestones, and no more. The cliff
+itself, rising abruptly from the sea to some four hundred feet, was
+perforated with the nests of sea-fowl, whose melancholy cries, as they
+circled overhead, seemed to ring out a last requiem. There it was they now
+laid him. Many a time from that bleak summit had he lighted a beacon fire
+to ships in distress.
+</p>
+<p>
+Often and often, from that same spot, had he gazed out over the sea, to
+catch signs of those who needed succor, and now that bold heart was still
+and that strong arm stiffened, and the rough, deep voice that used to
+sound above the tempest, silent forever.
+</p>
+<p>
+<a name="linkimage-0008" id="linkimage-0008">
+<!-- IMG --></a>
+</p>
+<div class="fig" style="width:80%;">
+<img src="images/188.jpg" width="100%" alt="" /><br />
+</div>
+<p>
+alt="188 &ldquo;>
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Never mind, Patsey,&rdquo; said Mary, to one of the fishermen, who was
+endeavoring with some stray fragments of a wreck to raise a little
+monument over the spot, &ldquo;I'll look to that hereafter.&rdquo; And so saying, she
+turned mournfully away to descend the cliff. A stranger, wrapped in a
+large boat-cloak, had been standing for some time near the place; and as
+Mary left it, he drew nigh and asked who she was.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Who would she be?&rdquo; said the fisherman, gruffly, and evidently in no humor
+to converse.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;A wife, or a daughter, perhaps?&rdquo; asked the other again.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Neither one nor the other,&rdquo; replied the fisherman.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;It is Miss Mary, sir,&mdash;Miss Martin,&mdash;God bless her!&rdquo; broke in
+the other; &ldquo;one that never deserts the poor, living or dead. Musha! but
+she's what keeps despair out of many a heart!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And has she come all this way alone?&rdquo; asked he.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;What other way could she come, I wonder?&rdquo; said the man he had first
+addressed. &ldquo;Did n't they leave her there by herself, just as if she was
+n't belonging to them? They were kinder to old Henderson's daughter than
+to their own flesh and blood.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Hush, Jerry, hush!&mdash;she 'll hear you,&rdquo; cried the other. And saluting
+the stranger respectfully, he began to follow down the cliff.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Are there strangers stopping at the inn?&rdquo; asked Mary, as she saw lights
+gleaming from some of the windows as she passed.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yes, miss, there's him that was up there at the churchyard&mdash;ye
+didn't remark him, maybe&mdash;and one or two more.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I did not notice him,&rdquo; said Mary; and, wishing the men good-night, set
+out homeward. So frequent were the halts she made at different cabins as
+she drove along, so many times was she stopped to give a word of advice or
+counsel, that it was already duskish as she reached Cro' Martin, and found
+herself once more near home. &ldquo;You're late with the post this evening,
+Billy,&rdquo; said she, overtaking the little fellow who carried the mail from
+Oughterard.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yes, miss, there was great work sortin' the letters that came in this
+morning, for I believe there's going to be another election; at least I
+heard Hosey Lynch say it was all about that made the bag so full.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I 'm sorry for it, Billy,&rdquo; said she. &ldquo;We have enough to think of, ay, and
+troubles enough, too, not to need the strife and bitterness of another
+contest amongst us.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Thrue for ye, miss, indeed,&rdquo; rejoined Billy. '&ldquo;Tis wishing them far
+enough I am, them same elections; the bag does be a stone heavier every
+day till it's over.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Indeed!&rdquo; said Mary, half smiling at the remark.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Thrue as I 'm here, miss. I would n't wonder if it was the goold for
+bribin' the chaps makes it weigh so much.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And is there any other news stirring in the town, Billy?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Next to none, miss. They were talkin' of putting up ould Nelligan's son
+for the mimber; and more says the Magennis of Barnagheela will stand.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;A most excellent choice that would be, certainly,&rdquo; said Mary, laughing.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Faix! I heerd of another that wasn't much better, miss.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And who could that be?&rdquo; asked Mary, in astonishment.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;But sure you'd know better than me, if it was thrue, more by token it
+would be the master's own orders.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I don't understand you, Billy.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I mean, miss, that it's only his Honer, Mr. Martin, could have the power
+to make Maurice Scanlan a Parlimint man.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And has any one hinted at such a possibility?&rdquo; said she, in astonishment.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Indeed, then, it was the talk of the market this mornin', and many a one
+said he's the very fellow would get in.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Is he such a general favorite in Oughterard?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I'm not sure it's that, miss,&rdquo; said Billy, thoughtfully.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Maybe some likes him, and more is afraid of him; but he himself knows
+everybody and everybody's business. He can raise the rent upon this man,
+take it off that; 'tis his word can make a barony-constable or one of the
+watch. They say he has the taxes, too, in his power, and can cess you just
+as he likes. Be my conscience, he 's all as one as the Prime Minister.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Just as Billy had delivered this sage reflection they had reached the hall
+door, where, having consigned the letter-bag to the hands of a servant, he
+turned his steps to the kitchen, to take an &ldquo;air of the fire&rdquo; before he
+set out homeward. Mary Martin had not advanced many steps within the hall
+when both her hands were cordially grasped, and a kind voice, which she at
+once recognized as Mr. Repton's, said, &ldquo;Here I am, my dear Miss Martin;
+arrived in time, too, to welcome you home again. You paid me a visit
+yesterday&mdash;&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; broke she in; &ldquo;but you were shaking your ambrosial curls at the
+time, browbeating the bench, or cajoling the jury, or something of that
+sort.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;That I was; but I must own with scant success. You 've heard how that
+young David of Oughterard slew the old Goliath of Dublin? Well, shall I
+confess it? I'm glad of it. I feel proud to think that the crop of clever
+fellows in Ireland is flourishing, and that when I, and a dozen like me,
+pass away, our places will be filled by others that will keep the repute
+of our great profession high in the public estimation.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;This is worthy of you, sir,&rdquo; cried Mary, pressing the arm ahe leaned on
+more closely.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And now, my dear Miss Mary,&rdquo; said he, as they entered the drawing-room,&mdash;&ldquo;now
+that I have light to look at you, let me make my compliments on your
+appearance. Handsomer than ever, I positively declare. They told me in the
+town that you half killed yourself with fatigue; that you frequently were
+days long on horseback, and nights watching by sick-beds; but if this be
+the result, benevolence is indeed its own reward.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Ah, my dear Mr. Repton, I see you do not keep all your flatteries for the
+jury-box.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;My moments are too limited here to allow me time for an untruth. I must
+be off; to-night I have a special retainer for a great record at
+Roscommon, and at this very instant I should be poring over deeds and
+parchments, instead of gazing at 'orbs divinely blue;' not but, I believe,
+now that I look closer, yours are hazel.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Let me order dinner, then, at once,&rdquo; said she, approaching the bell.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I have done that already, my dear,&rdquo; said he, gayly; &ldquo;and what is more, I
+have dictated the bill of fare. I guessed what a young lady's simple meal
+might be, and I have been down to the cook, and you shall see the result.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Then it only remains for me to think of the cellar. What shall it be,
+sir? The Burgundy that you praised so highly last winter, or the Port that
+my uncle preferred to it?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I declare that I half suspect your uncle was right. Let us move for a new
+trial, and try both over again,&rdquo; said he, laughing, as she left the room.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Just to think of such a girl in such a spot,&rdquo; cried he to himself, as he
+walked alone, up and down the room; &ldquo;beauty, grace, fascination,&mdash;all
+that can charm and attract; and then, such a nature, childlike in gayety,
+and chivalrous,&mdash;ay, chivalrous as a chevalier!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I see, sir, you are rehearsing for Roscommon,&rdquo; said Mary, who entered the
+room while he was yet declaiming alone; &ldquo;but I must interrupt you, for the
+soup is waiting.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I obey the summons,&rdquo; said he tendering his arm. And they both entered the
+dinner-room.
+</p>
+<p>
+So long as the meal lasted, Repton's conversation was entirely devoted to
+such topics as he might have discussed at a formal dinner-party. He talked
+of the world of society, its deaths, births, and marriages; its changes of
+place and amusement. He narrated the latest smart things that were going
+the round of the clubs, and hinted at the political events that were
+passing. But the servants gone, and the chairs drawn closer to the blazing
+hearth, his tone changed at once, and in a voice of tremulous kindness he
+said,&mdash;&ldquo;I can't bear to think of the solitude of this life of yours!&mdash;nay,
+hear me out. I say this, not for <i>you</i>, since in the high devotion of
+a noble purpose you are above all its penalties; but I cannot endure to
+think that <i>we</i> should permit it.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;First of all,&rdquo; said Mary, rapidly, &ldquo;what you deem solitude is scarcely
+such; each day is so filled with its duties, that when I come back here of
+an evening, it often happens that my greatest enjoyment is the very sense
+of isolation that awaits me. Do you know,&rdquo; added she, &ldquo;that very often the
+letter-bag lies unopened by me till morning? And as to newspapers, there
+they lie in heaps, their covers unbroken to this hour. Such is actually
+the case to-day. I haven't read my letters yet.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I read mine in my bed,&rdquo; cried Repton. &ldquo;I have them brought to me by
+candlelight in winter, and I reflect over all the answers while I am
+dressing. Some of the sharpest things I have ever said have occurred to me
+while I was shaving; not,&rdquo; added he, hastily, &ldquo;but one's really best
+things are always impromptu. Just as I said t' other day to the Viceroy,&mdash;a
+somewhat felicitous one. He was wishing that some historian would choose
+for his subject the lives of Irish Lord-Lieutenants; not, he remarked, in
+a mere spirit of party, or with the levity of partisanship, but in a
+spirit becoming the dignity of history,&mdash;such as Hume himself might
+have done. 'Yes, my Lord,' I replied, 'your observation is most just; it
+should be a continuation of Rapine.' Eh! it was a home-thrust, wasn't it?&mdash;'a
+continuation of Rapine.'&rdquo; And the old man laughed till his eyes ran over.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Do these great folk ever thoroughly forgive such things?&rdquo; asked Mary.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;My dear child, their self-esteem is so powerful they never feel them; and
+even when they do, the chances are that they store them up in their
+memories, to retail afterwards as their own. I have detected my own stolen
+property more than once; but always so damaged by wear, and disfigured by
+ill-usage, that I never thought of reclaiming it.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;The affluent need never fret for a little robbery,&rdquo; said Mary, smiling.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Ay, but they may like to be the dispensers of their own riches,&rdquo; rejoined
+Repton, who never was happier than when able to carry out another's
+illustration.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Is Lord Reckington agreeable?&rdquo; asked Mary, trying to lead him on to any
+other theme than that of herself.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;He is eminently so. Like all men of his class, he makes more of a small
+stock in trade than we with our heads full can ever pretend to. Such men
+talk well, for they think fluently. Their tact teaches them the popular
+tone on every subject, and they have the good sense never to rise above
+it.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And Massingbred, the secretary, what of him?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;A very well-bred gentleman, strongly cased in the triple armor of
+official dulness. Such men converse as stupid whist-players play cards;
+they are always asking to 'let them see the last trick;' and the
+consequence is they are ever half an hour behind the rest of the world.
+Ay, Miss Mary, and this is an age where one must never be half a second in
+arrear. This is really delicious Port; and now that the Burgundy is
+finished, I think I prefer it. Tell Martin I said so when you write to
+him. I hope the cellar is well stocked with it.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;It was so when my uncle went away, but I fear I have made great inroads
+upon it. It was my chief remedy with the poor.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;With the poor! such wine as this,&mdash;the richest grape that ever
+purpled over the Douro! Do you tell me that you gave this to these&mdash;Heaven
+forgive me, what am I saying? Of course you gave it; you gave them what
+was fifty times more precious,&mdash;the kind ministerings of your own
+angelic nature, the soft words and soft looks and smiles that a prince
+might have knelt for. I 'm not worthy to drink another glass of it,&rdquo; added
+he, as he pushed the decanter from him towards the centre of the table.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;But you shall, though,&rdquo; said Mary, filling his glass, &ldquo;and it shall be a
+bumper to my health.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;A toast I'd stake my life for,&rdquo; said he, reverently, as he lifted her
+hand to his lips and kissed it with all the deference of a courtier. &ldquo;And
+now,&rdquo; added he, refilling his glass, &ldquo;I drink this to the worthy fellow
+whose portrait is before me; and may he soon come back again.&rdquo; He arose as
+he spoke, and giving his hand to Mary, led her into the drawing-room. &ldquo;Ay,
+my dear Miss Mary,&rdquo; said he, following up the theme in his own thoughts,
+&ldquo;it is here your uncle ought to be. When the army is in rout and dismay,
+the general's presence is the talisman that restores discipline.
+Everything around us at this moment is full of threatening danger. The
+catalogue of the assizes is a dark record; I never saw its equal, no more
+have I ever witnessed anything to compare with the dogged indifference of
+the men arraigned. The Irishman is half a fatalist by nature; it will be
+an evil hour that makes him wholly one!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;But still,&rdquo; said Mary, &ldquo;you 'd scarcely counsel his return here at this
+time. The changes that have taken place would fret him deeply, not to
+speak of even worse!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+She delivered the last few words in a voice broken and trembling; and
+Repton, turning quickly towards her, said,&mdash;&ldquo;I know what you point
+at: the irritated feeling of the people, and that insolent menace they
+dared to affix to his own door.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You heard of that, then?&rdquo; cried she, eagerly.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;To be sure, I heard of it; and I heard how your own hands tore it down,
+and riding with it into the midst of them at Kiltimmon market, you said,
+'I 'll give five hundred pounds to him who shows me who did this, and I
+'ll forfeit five hundred more if I do not horsewhip the coward from the
+county.'&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Mary hid her face within her hands; but closely as she pressed them there,
+the warm tears would force their way through, and fall, dropping on her
+bosom.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You are a noble girl,&rdquo; cried he, in ecstasy; &ldquo;and in all your great
+trials there is nothing finer than this, that the work of your benevolence
+has never been stayed by the sense of ill-requital, and you have never
+involved the character of a people in the foul crime of a miscreant.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;How could I so wrong them, sir?&rdquo; broke she out. &ldquo;Who better than myself
+can speak of their glorious courage, their patient resignation, their
+noble self-devotion? Has not the man, sinking under fever, crawled from
+his bed to lead me to the house of another deeper in misery than himself?
+Have I not seen the very poorest sharing the little alms bestowed upon
+their wretchedness? Have I not heard the most touching words of gratitude
+from lips growing cold in death? You may easily show me lands of greater
+comfort, where the blessings of wealth and civilization are more widely
+spread; but I defy you to point to any where the trials of a whole people
+have been so great and so splendidly sustained.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I'll not ask the privilege of reply,&rdquo; said Repton; &ldquo;perhaps I 'd rather
+be convinced by you than attempt to gainsay one word of your argument.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;At your peril, sir,&rdquo; said she, menacing him with her finger, while a
+bright smile lit up her features.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;The chaise is at the door, sir,&rdquo; said a servant, entering and addressing
+Repton.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Already!&rdquo; exclaimed he. &ldquo;Why, my dear Miss Mary, it can't surely be eight
+o'clock. No; but,&rdquo; added he, looking at his watch, &ldquo;it only wants a
+quarter of ten, and I have not said one half of what I had to say, nor
+heard a fourth of what you had to tell me.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Let the postboy put up his horses, William,&rdquo; said Miss Martin, &ldquo;and bring
+tea.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;A most excellent suggestion,&rdquo; chimed in Repton. &ldquo;Do you know, my dear,
+that we old bachelors never thoroughly appreciate all that we have missed
+in domesticity till we approach a tea-table. We surround ourselves with
+fifty mockeries of home-life; we can manage soft carpets, warm curtains,
+snug dinners, but somehow our cup of tea is a rude imitation that only
+depicts the inaccuracy of the copy. Without the priestess the tea-urn
+sings forth no incantation.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;How came it that Mr. Repton remained a Benedict?&rdquo; asked she, gayly.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;By the old accident, that he would n't take what he might have, and could
+n't get what he wished. Add to that,&rdquo; continued he, after a pause, &ldquo;when a
+man comes to a certain time of life without marrying, the world has given
+to him a certain place, assigned to him, as it were, a certain part which
+would be utterly marred by a wife. The familiarity of one's female
+acquaintance&mdash;the pleasantest spot in old bachelorhood&mdash;could
+n't stand such an ordeal; and the hundred-and-one eccentricities
+pardonable and pardoned in the single man would be condemned in the
+married one. You shake your head. Well, now, I 'll put it to the test.
+Would you, or could you, make me your confidant so unreservedly if there
+were such a person as Mrs. Repton in the world? Not a bit of it, my dear
+child. We old bachelors are the lay priests of society, and many come to
+us with confessions they 'd scruple about making to the regular
+authorities.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Perhaps you are right,&rdquo; said she, thoughtfully; &ldquo;at all events, <i>I</i>
+should have no objection to you as my confessor.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I may have to claim that promise one of these day yet,&rdquo; said he,
+significantly. &ldquo;Eh, here comes William again. Well, the postboy won't
+wait, or something has gone wrong. Eh, William, what is it?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;The boy's afraid, sir, if you don't go soon, that there will be no
+passing the river at Barnagheela,&mdash;the flood is rising every minute.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And already the water is too deep,&rdquo; cried Mary. &ldquo;Give the lad his supper,
+William. Let him make up his cattle, and say that Mr. Repton remains here
+for the night.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And Mr. Repton obeys,&rdquo; said he, bowing; &ldquo;though what is to become of
+'Kelly <i>versus</i> Lenaham and another,' is more than I can say.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;They 'll have so many great guns, sir,&rdquo; said Mary, laughing; &ldquo;won't they
+be able to spare a twenty-four pounder?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;But I ought, at least, to appear in the battery, my dear. They 'll say
+that I stayed away on account of that young fellow Nelligan; he has a
+brief in that cause, and I know he 'd like another tussle with me. By the
+way, Miss Mary, that reminds me that I promised him to make his&mdash;no,
+not his excuses, he was too manly for that; but his&mdash;his explanations
+to you about yesterday's business. He was sorely grieved at the part
+assigned him; he spoke feelingly of all the attentions he once met at your
+uncle's hands, but far more so of certain kindnesses shown to his mother
+by yourself; and surmising that you might be unaware of the exacting
+nature of our bar etiquette, that leaves no man at liberty to decline a
+cause, he tortured himself inventing means to set himself right with you.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;But I know your etiquette, sir, and I respect it; and Mr. Nelligan never
+stood higher in my estimation than by his conduct of yesterday. You can
+tell him, therefore, that you saw there was no necessity to touch on the
+topic; it will leave less unpleasantness if we should meet again.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;What a diplomatist it is!&rdquo; said Repton, smiling affectionately at her.
+&ldquo;How successful must all this tact be when engaged with the people! Nay,
+no denial; you know in your heart what subtle devices it supplies you
+with.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And yet, I 'm not so certain that what you call my diplomacy may not have
+involved me in some trouble,&mdash;at least, there is the chance of it.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;As how, my dear child?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You shall hear, sir. You know the story of that poor girl at Barnagheela,
+whom they call Mrs. Magennis? Well, her old grandfather&mdash;as noble a
+heart as ever beat&mdash;had never ceased to pine after her fall. She had
+been the very light of his life, and he loved her on, through her sorrow,
+if not her shame, till, as death drew nigh him, unable to restrain his
+craving desire, he asked me to go and fetch her, to give her his last kiss
+and receive his last blessing. It was a task I had fain have declined,
+were such an escape open to me, but I could not. In a word, I went and did
+his bidding. She stayed with him till he breathed his last breath, and
+then&mdash;in virtue of some pledge I hear that she made him&mdash;she
+fled, no one knows whither. All trace of her is lost; and though I have
+sent messengers on every side, none have yet discovered her.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Suicide is not the vice of our people,&rdquo; said Repton, gravely.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I know that well, and the knowledge makes me hopeful. But what sufferings
+are yet before her, what fearful trials has she to meet!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;By Jove!&rdquo; cried Repton, rising and pacing the room, &ldquo;you have courage,
+young lady, that would do honor to a man. You brave the greatest perils
+with a stout-heartedness that the best of us could scarcely summon.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;But, in this case, the peril is not mine, sir.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I am not so sure of that, Miss Mary,&rdquo; said Repton, doubtingly,&mdash;&ldquo;I
+'m not so sure of that.&rdquo; And, with crossed arms and bent-down head, he
+paced the room slowly back and forwards. &ldquo;Ay,&rdquo; muttered he to himself,
+&ldquo;Thursday night&mdash;Friday, at all events&mdash;will close the record. I
+can speak to evidence on the morning, and be back here again some time in
+the night. Of course it is a duty,&mdash;it is more than a duty.&rdquo; Then he
+added, aloud, &ldquo;There 's the moon breaking out, and a fine breezy sky. I
+'ll take the road, Miss Mary, and, with your good leave, I 'll drink tea
+with you on Friday evening. Nay, my dear, the rule is made absolute.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I agree,&rdquo; said she, &ldquo;if it secures me a longer visit on your return.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+A few moments afterwards saw Repton seated in the corner of his chaise,
+and hurrying onward at speed. His eyes soon closed in slumber, and as he
+sank off to rest, his lips murmured gently, &ldquo;My Lord, in rising to address
+the Court, under circumstances of no ordinary difficulty, and in a case
+where vast interest, considerable influence, and, I may add&mdash;may add&mdash;&rdquo;
+ The words died away, and he was asleep.
+</p>
+<p>
+<a name="link2HCH0017" id="link2HCH0017">
+<!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+</p>
+<div style="height: 4em;">
+<br /><br /><br /><br />
+</div>
+<h2>
+CHAPTER XVII. LADY DOROTHEA'S LETTER
+</h2>
+<p>
+Though it was late when Repton took his departure, Mary Martin felt no
+inclination for sleep, but addressed herself at once to examine the letter
+bag, whose contents seemed more than usually bulky. Amid a mass of
+correspondence about the estate, she came at length upon the foreign
+letters, of which there were several from the servants to their friends or
+relations at Cro' Martin,&mdash;all, as usual, under cover to Miss Martin;
+and at last she found one in Lady Dorothea's own hand, for herself,&mdash;a
+very rare occurrence; nay, indeed, it was the first epistle her Ladyship
+had favored her with since her departure.
+</p>
+<p>
+It was not, then, without curiosity as to the cause that Mary broke the
+large seal and read as follows:&mdash;
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Carlsruhe, Saturday Evening, Cour de Bade.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;My dear Niece,&mdash;It was only yesterday, when looking over your
+uncle's papers, I chanced upon a letter of yours, dated some five or six
+weeks back, and which, to my great astonishment, I discovered had never
+been communicated to me,&mdash;though this mark of deficient confidence
+will doubtless seem less surprising to <i>you</i>.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;To bring your letter to your mind, <i>I</i> may observe it is one in
+which you describe the condition of the people on the estate, and the
+fatal inroads then making upon them by famine and pestilence. It is not my
+intention here to advert to what may possibly be a very natural error in
+your account,&mdash;the exaggerated picture you draw of their sufferings;
+your sympathy with them, and your presence to witness much of what they
+are enduring, will explain and excuse the highly colored statement of
+their sorrows. It were to be wished that an equally valid apology could be
+made for what I am forced to call the importunity of your demands in their
+favor. Five of your six last letters now before me are filled with appeals
+for abatements of rent, loans to carry out improvements, stipends for
+schoolmasters, doctors, scripture-readers, and a tribe of other
+hangers-on, that really seem to augment in number as the pauperism of the
+people increases. However ungracious the task of disparaging the accuracy
+of your view, I have no other alternative but to accept it, and hence I am
+forced to pen these lines myself in preference to committing the office to
+another.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;It really seems to me that you regard our position as landed proprietors
+in the light of a mere stewardship, and that it is our bounden duty to
+expend upon the tenantry the proceeds of the estate, reserving a scanty
+percentage, perhaps, for ourselves to live upon. How you came to this
+opinion, and whence you acquired it, I have no means of knowing. If,
+however, it has been the suggestion of your own genius, it is right you
+should know that you hold doctrines in common with the most distinguished
+communists of modern times, and are quite worthy of a seat of honor beside
+those who are now convulsing society throughout Europe.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I am unwilling to utter anything like severity towards errors, many of
+which take their rise in a mistaken and ill-directed benevolence, because
+the original fault of committing the management of this property to your
+hands was the work of another. Let me hope that sincere sorrow for so
+fatal a mistake may not be the primary cause of his present attack&mdash;&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+When Mary read so far, she started with a sudden fear; and turning over
+the pages of the long letter, she sought for some allusion to her uncle.
+At length she found the following lines:&mdash;&ldquo;Your cousin would have
+left this for Ireland, but for the sudden seizure your poor uncle has
+suffered from, and which came upon him after breakfast, in apparently his
+ordinary health. The entire of the left side is attacked,&mdash;the face
+particularly,&mdash;and his utterance quite inarticulate.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+For some minutes she could read no more; the warm tears rolled down her
+cheeks and dropped heavily on the paper, and she could only mutter to
+herself, &ldquo;My poor, dear uncle,&mdash;my last, my only friend in the
+world!&rdquo; Drying her eyes, with a great effort she read on:&mdash;
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;The remedies have been so far successful as to arrest the progress of the
+malady, and his appetite is good, and his spirits, everything considered,
+are excellent. Of course, all details of business are strictly excluded
+from his presence; and your cousin has assumed whatever authority is
+necessary to the management of the property. We thought at one time your
+presence here might have been desirable, but, considering the distance,
+the difficulty of travelling without suitable companionship, and other
+circumstances, it would, on the whole, be a step we should not recommend;
+and, indeed, your uncle himself has not expressed any wishes on the
+subject.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+She dropped the letter at these words, and, covering her face with her
+hands, sobbed bitterly and long; at length, and with an effort which taxed
+her strength to the utmost, she read on:&mdash;
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Although, however, you are to remain at Cro' Martin, it will be more than
+ever imperative you should reduce the establishment there within the very
+strictest possible limits; and to begin this-reform, I 'm fully assured it
+is necessary you should depose old Mrs. Broon, who is really incapable of
+her duties, while her long-acquired habits of expense render her
+incompatible with any new regulations to enforce economy. A moderate
+pension&mdash;something, however, in accordance with her real wants and
+requirements, rather than what might be called her expectations&mdash;should
+be settled upon her, and there are several farmers on the estate, any one
+of whom would gladly take charge of her. The gardens still figure largely
+in the account, and considering the very little probability of our makings
+the place a residence again, might be turned to more profitable use. You
+will confer with Henderson on the subject, and inquire how far it might be
+advisable to cultivate vegetables for market, or convert them into
+paddocks for calves, or, in short, anything which, if less remunerative,
+should still save the enormous outlay we now hear of I scarcely like to
+allude to the stable, knowing how much you lean to the enjoyment of riding
+and driving; but really these are times when retrenchment is called for at
+every hand; and I am persuaded that for purposes of health walking is
+infinitely better than carriage exercise. I know myself, that since I have
+taken to the habit of getting out of the carriage at the wells, and
+walking twice round the parterre, I feel myself braced and better for the
+day.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;It is not improbable but when the changes I thus suggest, and others
+similar to them, are enacted, that you will see to what little purpose a
+large house is maintained for the mere accommodation of a single
+individual, without suitable means, or indeed any reason whatever, to
+dispense them. If then, I say, you should come to this conviction,&mdash;at
+which I have already arrived,&mdash;a very great saving might be effected
+by obtaining a tenant for Cro' Martin, while you, if still desirous of
+remaining in the county, might be most comfortably accommodated at the
+Hendersons'.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Three times did Mary Martin read over this passage before she could bring
+herself to believe in its meaning; and hot tears of sorrow coursed down
+her cheeks as she became assured of its import.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;It is not,&rdquo; went on the epistle&mdash;&ldquo;it is not in your uncle's present
+most critical state that I could confer with him on this project, nor
+strengthen my advice by what most probably would be <i>his</i> also. I
+therefore make the appeal simply to your own sense of what you may think
+in accordance with our greatly increased outlay and your own requirements.
+Should you receive this suggestion in the spirit in which it is offered, I
+think that both for your uncle's satisfaction and your own dignity, the
+proposal ought to come from yourself. You could make it to me in a letter,
+stating all the reasons in its favor, and of course not omitting to lay
+suitable stress upon the isolation of your present life, and the comfort
+and security you would derive from the protection of a family. Mrs. H. is
+really a very nice person, and her tastes and habits would render her most
+companionable; and she would, of course, make you an object of especial
+attention and respect. It is, besides, not impossible that the daughter
+may soon return&mdash;though this is a point I have not leisure to enter
+upon at present. A hundred a year would he a very handsome allowance for
+Henderson, and indeed for that sum he ought to keep your pony, if you
+still continue your taste for equipage. You would thus be more
+comfortable, and really richer,&mdash;that is, have more disposable means&mdash;than
+you have hitherto had. I forbear to insist further upon what&mdash;till it
+has your own approval&mdash;may be a vain advocacy on my part. I can only
+say, in conclusion, that in adopting this plan you would equally consult
+what is due to your own dignity, as what is required by your uncle's
+interests. Your cousin, I am forced to avow it, has been very silly, very
+inconsiderate, not alone in contracting heavy debts, but in raising large
+sums to meet them at fabulous rates of interest. The involvements
+threaten, from what I can gather, to imperil a considerable part of the
+estate, and we are obliged to send for Scanlan to come out here, and
+confer with him as to the means of extrication. I feel there is much to be
+said in palliation of errors which have their origin in high and generous
+qualities. Plantagenet was thrown at a very early age into the society of
+a most expensive regiment, and naturally contracted the tastes and habits
+around him. Poor fellow, he is suffering severely from the memory of these
+early indiscretions, and I see that nothing but a speedy settlement of his
+difficulties will ever restore him to his wonted spirits. You will thus
+perceive, that if my suggested change of life to you should not conform
+entirely to your wishes, that you are in reality only accepting your share
+of the sacrifices called for from each of us.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;There are a great number of other matters on which I wished to touch,&mdash;some,
+indeed, are not exactly within your province, such as the political
+fortunes of the borough, whose seat Mr. Massingbred has determined to
+vacate. Although not admitting the reason for his conduct, I am strongly
+convinced that the step is a mere acknowledgment of an error on his part,
+and an effort, however late, at the <i>amende honorable</i>. The
+restitution, for so I am forced to regard it, comes most inopportunely,
+since it would be a most ill-chosen moment in which to incur the expense
+of a contested election; besides that, really your cousin has no desire
+whatever for Parliamentary honors. Plantagenet, however, would seem to
+have some especial intentions on the subject which he keeps secret, and
+has asked of Massingbred not to send off his farewell address to the
+constituency for some days. But I will not continue a theme so little
+attractive to you.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Dr. Schubart has just called to see your uncle. He is not altogether so
+satisfied with his state as I could have hoped; he advises change of
+scene, and a little more intercourse with the world, and we have some
+thought of Nice, if we cannot get on to Naples. Dr. S., to whom I spoke on
+the subject of your Irish miseries, tells me that cholera is now the most
+manageable of all maladies, if only taken early; that you must enjoin the
+persons attacked to a more liberal diet, no vegetables, and a sparing use
+of French wines, excepting, he says, the generous 'Vins du Midi.' There is
+also a mixture to be taken&mdash;of which he promised me the prescription&mdash;and
+a pill every night of arnica or aconite&mdash;I 'm not quite certain which&mdash;but
+it is a perfect specific. He also adds, what must be felt as most
+reassuring, that the disease never attacks but the very poorest of the
+population. As to typhus, he smiled when I spoke of it. It is, he says, a
+mere 'Gastrite,' a malady which modern science actually despises. In fact,
+my dear niece, these would seem, like all other Irish misfortunes, the
+mere offshoots of her own dark ignorance and barbarism. If it were not for
+the great expense&mdash;and of course that consideration decides the
+question&mdash;I should have requested you to send over your doctor here
+to confer with Dr. Schubart. Indeed, I think it might be a very reasonable
+demand to make of the Government, but unhappily my present 'relations'
+with my relative Lord Reckington preclude any advances of mine in that
+quarter.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I was forgetting to add that, with respect to cholera, and indeed fever
+generally, that Dr. S. lays great stress upon what he calls the moral
+treatment of the people, amusing their minds by easily learned games and
+simple pleasures. I fear me, however, that the coarser natures of our
+population may not derive adequate amusement from the resources which
+would have such eminent success with the enlightened peasant of the Rhine
+land. Dr. S., I may remark, is a very distinguished writer on politics,
+and daily amazes us with the astounding speculations he is forming as to
+the future condition of Europe. His conviction is that our great peril is
+Turkey, and that Mohammedanism will be the religion of Europe before the
+end of the present century. Those new baths established at Brighton by a
+certain Hamet are a mere political agency, a secret propaganda, which his
+acuteness has alone penetrated. Miss Henderson has ventured to oppose
+these views with something not very far from impertinent ridicule, and for
+some time back, Dr. S. only discusses them with myself alone.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I had left the remainder of the sheet for any intelligence that might
+occur before post hour, but I am suddenly called away, and shall close it
+at once. When I was sitting with your uncle awhile ago, I <i>half</i>
+broached the project I was suggesting to you, and he seemed highly to
+approve of so much as I ventured to tell him. Nothing then is wanting but
+your own concurrence to make it as practicable as it is deemed advisable
+by your affectionate aunt,
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Dorothea Martin.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+The eccentricities of her aunt's character had always served as
+extenuating circumstances with Mary Martin. She knew the violence of her
+prejudices, the enormous amount of her self-esteem, and the facility with
+which she was ever able to persuade herself that whatever she wished to do
+assumed at once all the importance and gravity of a duty! This thorough
+appreciation of her peculiarities enabled Mary to bear up patiently under
+many sore trials and some actual wrongs. Where the occasion was a light
+one, she could afford to smile at such trials, and, even in serious cases,
+they palliated the injustice; but here was an instance wherein all her
+forgiveness was in vain. To take the moment of her poor uncle's illness&mdash;that
+terrible seizure, which left him without self-guidance, if even a will&mdash;to
+dictate these hard and humiliating terms, was a downright cruelty. Nor did
+it diminish the suffering which that letter cost her that its harsh
+conditions seemed dictated by a spirit of contempt for Ireland and its
+people. As Mary re-read the letter, she felt that every line breathed this
+tone of depreciation. It was to her Ladyship a matter of less than
+indifference what became of the demesne, who inhabited the house,&mdash;the
+home of &ldquo;the Martins&rdquo; for centuries! She was as little concerned for the
+prestige of &ldquo;the old family,&rdquo; as she was interested for the sorrows of the
+people. If Mary endeavored to treat these things dispassionately to her
+own heart, by dwelling upon all the points which affected others, still,
+her own individual wrong would work to the surface, and the bitter and
+insulting suggestion made to her rose up before her in all its enormity.
+</p>
+<p>
+She did her very best to turn her thoughts into some other channel,&mdash;to
+fix them upon her poor uncle, on his sick-bed, and sorrowing as he was
+sure to be; to think of her cousin Harry, struggling against the
+embarrassments of his own imprudence; of the old housekeeper, Catty Broon,
+to whom she could not summon courage to speak the cruel tidings of her
+changed lot,&mdash;but all, all in vain; back she would come to the
+humiliation that foreshadowed her own fortune, and threatened to depose
+her from her station forever.
+</p>
+<p>
+An indignant appeal to her uncle&mdash;her own father's brother&mdash;was
+her first resolve. &ldquo;Let me learn,&rdquo; said she to herself, &ldquo;from his own
+lips, that such is the destiny he assigns me; that in return for my tried
+affection, my devotion, he has no other recompense than to lower me in
+self-esteem and condition together. Time enough, when assured of this, to
+decide upon what I shall do. But to whom shall I address this demand?&rdquo;
+ thought she again. &ldquo;That dear, kind uncle is now struck down by illness.
+It were worse than cruelty to add to his own sorrows any thought of <i>mine</i>.
+If he have concurred in Lady Dorothea's suggestion, who knows in what
+light it may have been presented to him, by what arguments strengthened,
+with what perils contrasted? Is it impossible, too, that the sacrifice may
+be imperative? The sale of part of the property, the pressure of heavy
+claims,&mdash;all show that it may be necessary to dispose of Cro' Martin.
+Oh,&rdquo; exclaimed she, in agony, &ldquo;it is but a year ago, that when Mr. Repton
+hinted vaguely at such a casualty, how stoutly and indignantly did I
+reject it!
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;'Your uncle may choose to live abroad,' said he; 'to sell the estate,
+perhaps.' And I heard him with almost scornful defiance; and now the hour
+is come! and even yet I cannot bring myself to believe it. When Repton
+drew the picture of the tenantry, forsaken and neglected, the poor
+unnoticed, and the sick uncared for, he still forgot to assign me my place
+in the sad 'tableau,' and show that in destitution my lot was equal to
+their own; the very poorest and meanest had yet some spot, poor and mean
+though it were, they called a home, that Mary Martin was the only one an
+outcast!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+These gloomy thoughts were darkened as she bethought her that of her
+little fortune&mdash;on which, by Scanlan's aid, she had raised a loan&mdash;a
+mere fragment remained,&mdash;a few hundred pounds at most. The outlay on
+hospitals and medical assistance for the sick had more than quadrupled
+what she had estimated. The expense once begun, she had persevered with
+almost reckless determination. She had despatched to Dublin, one by one,
+the few articles of jewelry and value she possessed for sale; she had
+limited her own expenditure to the very narrowest bounds, nor was it till
+driven by the utmost urgency that she wrote the appeal to her uncle of
+which the reader already knows.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;How I once envied Kate Henderson,&rdquo; cried she, aloud, &ldquo;the brilliant
+accomplishments she possessed, the graceful charm that her cultivation
+threw over society, and the fascination she wielded, by acquirements of
+which I knew nothing; but how much more now do I envy her, that in those
+same gifts her independence was secured,&mdash;that, high above the
+chances of the world, she could build upon her own efforts, and never
+descend to a condition of dependence!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Her diminished power amongst the people had been fully compensated by the
+sincere love and affection she had won from them by acts of charity and
+devotion. Even these, however, owed much of their efficacy to the prestige
+of her station. No peasant in Europe puts so high a value on the
+intercourse with a rank above his own as does the Irish. The most pleasant
+flattery to his nature is the notice of &ldquo;the gentleman,&rdquo; and it was more
+than half the boon Mary bestowed upon the poor, that she who sat down
+beside the bed, who heated the little drink, who raised the head to
+swallow it, was the daughter of the Great House! Would not her altered
+fortune destroy this charm? was now her bitter reflection. Up to this
+hour, greatly reduced as were the means she dispensed, and the influence
+she wielded, she still lived in the proud home of her family, and all
+regarded her as the representative of her honored name. But now&mdash;No,
+she could not endure the thought! &ldquo;If I must descend to further
+privations,&rdquo; said she to herself, &ldquo;let me seek out some new scene,&mdash;some
+spot where I am unknown, have never been heard of; there, at least, I
+shall be spared the contrast of the past with the present, nor see in
+every incident the cruel mockery of my former life.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And yet,&rdquo; thought she, &ldquo;how narrow-minded and selfish is all this, how
+mean-spirited, to limit the question to my own feelings! Is there no duty
+involved in this sacrifice? Shall I not still&mdash;reduced though I be in
+fortune&mdash;shall I not still be a source of comfort to many here? Will
+not the very fact of my presence assure them that they are not deserted?
+They have seen me under some trials, and the lesson has not been
+fruitless. Let them then behold me, under heavier ones, not dismayed nor
+cast down. What I lose in the prestige of station I shall more than gain
+in sympathy; and so I remain!&rdquo; No sooner was the resolve formed than all
+her wonted courage came back. Rallying with the stimulus of action before
+her, she began to plan out a new life, in which her relation to the people
+should be closer and nearer than ever. There was a small ornamental
+cottage on the demesne, known as the Chalet, built by Lady Dorothea after
+one she had seen in the Oberland; this Mary now determined on for her
+home, and there, with Catty Broon alone, she resolved to live.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;My aunt,&rdquo; thought she, &ldquo;can scarcely be so wedded to the Henderson scheme
+but that this will equally satisfy her wishes; and while it secures a home
+and a resting-place for-poor Catty, it rescues <i>me</i> from what I
+should feel as a humiliation.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+The day was already beginning to dawn as Mary sat down to answer Lady
+Dorothea's letter. Most of her reply referred to her uncle, to whose
+affection she clung all the more as her fortunes darkened. She saw all the
+embarrassment of proffering her services to nurse and tend him, living, as
+he was, amidst his own; but still, she said that of the journey or its
+difficulties she should never waste a thought, if her presence at his
+sick-bed could afford him the slightest satisfaction. &ldquo;He knows me as a
+nurse already,&rdquo; said she. &ldquo;But tell him that I have grown, if not wiser,
+calmer and quieter than he knew me formerly; that I should not disturb him
+by foolish stories, but sit patiently save when he would have me to talk.
+Tell him, too, that if changed in many things, in my love to<i> him</i> I
+am unaltered.&rdquo; She tried to add more, but could not. The thought that
+these lines were to be read to her uncle by Lady Dorothea chilled her, and
+the very tones of that supercilious voice seemed to ring in her ears, and
+she imagined some haughty or insolent comment to follow them as they were
+uttered.
+</p>
+<p>
+With regard to her own future, she, in a few words, remarked upon the
+unnecessary expense of maintaining a large house for the accommodation of
+a single person, and said that, if her Ladyship concurred in the plan, she
+would prefer taking up her home at the Chalet with old Catty for companion
+and housekeeper.
+</p>
+<p>
+She pointed out the advantages of a change which, while securing a
+comfortable home to them, would equally suggest to their dependants
+lessons of thrift and self-sacrifice, and added, half sportively, &ldquo;As for
+me, when I find myself <i>en Suisse</i>, I 'm sure I shall less regret
+horses and dogs, and such-like vanities, and take to the delights of a
+dairy and cream cheeses with a good grace. Indeed, I 'm not quite certain
+but that Fortune, instead of displacing, will in reality be only
+installing me in the position best suited to me. Do not, then, be
+surprised, if at your return you find me in sabots and an embroidered
+bodice, deep in the mystery of all cottage economics, and well content to
+be so.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You are quite right, my dear aunt,&rdquo; she continued, &ldquo;not to entertain me
+with politics. The theme is as much above as it is distasteful to me; and
+so grovelling are my sentiments, that I 'd rather hear of the arrival of a
+cargo of oatmeal at Kilkieran than learn that the profoundest statesman of
+Great Britain had condescended to stand for our dear borough of
+Oughterard. At the same time, if Cousin Harry should change his mind, and
+turn his ambition towards the Senate, tell him I 'm quite ready to turn
+out and canvass for him to-morrow, and that the hospitalities of the
+Chalet shall do honor to the cause. As you speak of sending for Mr.
+Scanlan, I leave to him to tell you all the events of our late assizes
+here,&mdash;a task I escape from the more willingly, since I have no
+successes to record. Mr. Repton, however,&mdash;he paid me a visit
+yesterday, and stopped here to dinner,&mdash;says that he has no fears for
+the result at the next trial, and honestly confesses that our present
+defeat was entirely owing to the skill and ability of the counsel opposed
+to us. By some delay or mistake, I don't exactly know which, Scanlan
+omitted to send a retainer to young Mr. Nelligan, and who, being employed
+for the other side, was the chief cause of our failure. My uncle will be
+pleased to learn that Mr. N.'s address to the jury was scrupulously free
+from any of that invective or attack so frequently levelled at landlords
+when defending the rights of property. Repton called it 'a model of legal
+argument, delivered with the eloquence of a first-rate speaker, and the
+taste and temper of a gentleman.' Indeed, I understand that the tone of
+the speech has rendered all the ribaldry usual on such occasions in local
+journals impossible, and that the young barrister has acquired anything
+but popularity in consequence. Even in this much, is there a dawn of
+better things; and under such circumstances a defeat may be more
+profitable than a victory.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+With a few kind messages to her uncle, and an earnest entreaty for early
+tidings of his state, Mary concluded a letter in which her great
+difficulty lay in saying far less than her thoughts dictated, and
+conveying as much as she dare trust to Lady Dorothea's interpretation. The
+letter concluded and sealed, she lay down, dressed as she was, on her bed,
+and fell a-thinking over the future.
+</p>
+<p>
+There are natures to whom the opening of any new vista in life suggests
+fully as much of pleasure as anxiety. The prospect of the unknown and the
+untried has something of the adventurous about it which more than
+counterbalances the casualties of a future. Such a temperament was hers;
+and the first sense of sorrowful indignation over, she really began to
+speculate upon her cottage life with a certain vague and dreamy enjoyment.
+She foresaw, that when Cro' Martin Castle fell into other hands, that her
+own career ceased, her occupation was gone, and that she should at once
+fashion out some new road, and conform herself to new habits. The cares of
+her little household would probably not suffice to engage one whose active
+mind had hitherto embraced so wide a field of action, and Mary then
+bethought her how this leisure might be devoted to study and improvement.
+It was only in the eager enthusiasm of her many pursuits that she buried
+her sorrows over her neglected and imperfect education; and now a time was
+approaching when that reflection could no longer be resisted. She pondered
+long and deeply over these thoughts, when suddenly they were interrupted;
+but in what way, deserves a chapter of its own,&mdash;albeit a very brief
+one.
+</p>
+<p>
+<a name="link2HCH0018" id="link2HCH0018">
+<!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+</p>
+<div style="height: 4em;">
+<br /><br /><br /><br />
+</div>
+<h2>
+CHAPTER XVIII. MR. MERL'S EXPERIENCES IN THE WEST
+</h2>
+<p>
+&ldquo;What card is this?&mdash;who left it?&rdquo; said Mary, as she took up one from
+her breakfast-table.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;It is a gentleman that came to the inn late last night, miss, and sent a
+boy over to ask when he could pay his respects at the castle.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;'Mr. Herman Merl,'&mdash;a name I never heard of,&rdquo; muttered Mary to
+herself. &ldquo;Doubtless some stranger wishing to see the house. Say, whenever
+he pleases, George; and order Sorrel to be ready, saddled and at the door,
+within an hour. This must be a busy day,&rdquo; said she, still speaking to
+herself, as the servant left the room. &ldquo;At Oughterard before one; a
+meeting of the Loan Fund&mdash;I shall need some aid for my hospital; the
+Government order for the meal to be countersigned by a justice&mdash;Mr.
+Nelligan will do it. Then there 's Taite's little boy to be balloted for
+in the Orphan House; and Cassidy's son to be sent up to Dublin. Poor
+fellow, he has a terrible operation to go through. And I shall need Priest
+Rafferty's name to this memorial from the widows; the castle authorities
+seem to require it. After that, a visit to Kyle-a-Noe, to see all my poor
+sick folk: that will be a long business. I hope I may be able to get down
+to the shore and learn some tidings of poor Joan. She never leaves my
+thoughts, and yet I feel that no ill has befallen her.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;The gentleman that sent the card, miss, is below stairs. He is with Mr.
+Crow, at the hall-door,&rdquo; said George.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Show him into the drawing-room, George, and tell Mr. Crow to come here, I
+wish to speak to him.&rdquo; And before Mary had put away the papers and letters
+which littered the table, the artist entered.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Good morning, Mr. Crow,&rdquo; said Mary, in return for a number of most
+courteous salutations, which he was performing in a small semicircle in
+front of her. &ldquo;Who is your friend Mr.&mdash;'Mr. Herman Merl '?&rdquo; read she,
+taking up the card.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;A friend of your cousin's, Miss Mary,&mdash;of the Captain's. He brought
+a letter from him; but he gave it to Scanlan, and somehow Mr. Maurice, I
+believe, forgot to deliver it.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I have no recollection of it,&rdquo; said she, still assorting the papers
+before her. &ldquo;What is this visit meant for,&mdash;curiosity, pleasure,
+business? Does he wish to see the house?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I think it's Miss Martin herself he'd like to see,&rdquo; said Crow, half
+slyly.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;But why so? It's quite clear that I cannot show him any attentions. A
+young girl, living as I do here, cannot be expected to receive guests.
+Besides, I have other things to attend to. You must do the honors of Cro'
+Martin, Mr. Crow. You must entertain this gentleman for me. I 'll order
+luncheon before I go out, and I 'm sure you 'll not refuse me this
+service.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I wish I knew a real service to render you, Miss Mary,&rdquo; said he, with
+unfeigned devotedness in his look as he spoke.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I think I could promise myself as much,&rdquo; said Mary, smiling kindly on
+him. &ldquo;Do you happen to know anything of this stranger, Mr. Crow?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Nothing, miss, beyond seeing him this week back at Kilkieran.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Oh, I have heard of him, then,&rdquo; broke in Mary. &ldquo;It is of him the people
+tell me such stories of benevolence and goodness. It was he that sent the
+yawl out to Murran Island with oatmeal and potatoes for the poor. But I
+thought they called him Mr. Barry?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;To be sure they do; and he's another guess man from him below stairs.
+This one here&rdquo;&mdash;Mr. Crow now spoke in a whisper&mdash;&ldquo;this one here
+is a Jew, I 'd take the Testament on it, and I 'd not be surprised if he
+was one of them thieving villains that they say robbed the Captain! All
+the questions he does be asking about the property, and the rents, if they
+'re well paid, and what arrears there are, shows me that he isn't here for
+nothing.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I know nothing of what you allude to, Mr. Crow,&rdquo; said she, half proudly;
+&ldquo;it would ill become <i>me</i> to pry into my cousin's affairs. At the
+same time, if the gentleman has no actual business with me, I shall
+decline to receive him.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;He says he has, miss,&rdquo; replied Crow. &ldquo;He says that he wants to speak to
+you about a letter he got by yesterday's post from the Captain.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Mary heard this announcement with evident impatience; her head was,
+indeed, too full of other cares to wish to occupy her attention with a
+ceremonial visit. She was in no mood to accept the unmeaning compliments
+of a new acquaintance. Shall we dare to insinuate, what after all is a
+mere suspicion on our part, that a casual glance at her pale cheeks,
+sunken eyes, and careworn features had some share in the obstinacy of her
+refusal? She was not, indeed, &ldquo;in looks,&rdquo; and she knew it. &ldquo;Must I repeat
+it, Mr. Crow,&rdquo; said she, peevishly, &ldquo;that you can do all this for me, and
+save me a world of trouble and inconvenience besides? If there should be&mdash;a
+very unlikely circumstance&mdash;anything confidential to communicate,
+this gentleman may write it.&rdquo; And with this she left the room, leaving
+poor Mr. Crow in a state of considerable embarrassment. Resolving to make
+the best of his difficulty, he returned to the drawing-room, and
+apologizing to Merl for Miss Martin's absence on matters of great
+necessity, he conveyed her request that he would stop for luncheon.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;She ain't afraid of me, I hope?&rdquo; said Merl.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I trust not. I rather suspect she is little subject to fear upon any
+score,&rdquo; replied Crow.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Well, I must say it's not exactly what I expected. The letter I hold here
+from the Captain gives me to understand that his cousin will not only
+receive me, but confer with and counsel me, too, in a somewhat important
+affair.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Oh, I forgot,&rdquo; broke in Crow; &ldquo;you are to write to her, she said,&mdash;that
+is, if there really were anything of consequence, which you deemed
+confidential, you know,&mdash;you were to write to her.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I never put my hand to paper, Mr. Crow, without well knowing why. When
+Herman Merl signs anything, he takes time to consider what's in it,&rdquo; said
+the Jew, knowingly.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Well, shall I show you the house,&mdash;there are some clever specimens
+of the Dutch masters here?&rdquo; asked Crow, anxious to change the topic.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Ay, with all my heart. I suppose I must accept this privilege as my
+experience of the much-boasted Irish hospitality,&rdquo; said he with a sneer,
+which required all Crow's self-control to resist answering. To master the
+temptation, and give himself a few moments' repose, he went about opening
+windows and drawing back curtains, so as to admit a fuller and stronger
+light upon the pictures along the walls.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;There now,&rdquo; said he, pointing to a large landscape, &ldquo;there's a Both, and
+a fine one too; as mellow in color and as soft in distance as ever he
+painted.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;That's a copy,&rdquo; said the other. &ldquo;That picture was painted by Woeffel, and
+I 'll show you his initials, too, A. W., before we leave it.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;It came from the Dordrecht gallery, and is an undoubted Both!&rdquo; exclaimed
+Crow, angrily.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I saw it there myself, and in very suitable company, too, with a Snyders
+on one side and a Rubens on t' other, the Snyders being a Faltk, and the
+Rubens a Metziger; the whole three being positively dear at twenty pounds.
+Ay, here it is,&rdquo; continued he, pointing to the hollow trunk of a decayed
+tree: &ldquo;there's the initials. So much for your original by Both.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I hope you'll allow that to be a Mieris?&rdquo; said Crow, passing on to
+another.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;If you hadn't opened the shutters, perhaps I might,&rdquo; said Merl; &ldquo;but with
+a good dash of light I see it is by Jansens,&mdash;and a clever copy,
+too.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;A copy!&rdquo; exclaimed the other.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;A good copy,&rdquo; I said. &ldquo;The King of Bavaria has the original. It is in the
+small collection at Hohen Schwangau.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;There, that's good!&rdquo; cried he, turning to a small unfinished sketch in
+oils.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I often wondered who did it,&rdquo; cried Crow.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;That! Why, can you doubt, sir? That's a bit of Vandyke's own. It was one
+of the hundred and fifty rough things he threw off as studies for his
+great picture of St. Martin parting his cloak.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I'm glad to hear you say so,&rdquo; said Crow, in delight. &ldquo;I felt, when I
+looked at it, that it was a great hand threw in them colors.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You call this a Salvator Rosa, don't you?&rdquo; said Merl, as he stood before
+a large piece representing a bandit's bivouac in a forest, with a pale
+moonlight stealing through the trees.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yes, that we do,&rdquo; said Crow, stoutly.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Of course, it's quite sufficient to have blended lights, rugged
+foregrounds, and plenty of action to make a Salvator; but let me tell you,
+sir, that it's not even a copy of him. It is a bad&mdash;ay, and a very
+bad&mdash;Haemlens,&mdash;an Antwerp fellow that lived by poor
+facsimiles.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Oh dear, oh dear!&rdquo; cried Crow, despairingly. &ldquo;Did I ever hear the like of
+this!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Are these your best things, Mr. Crow?&rdquo; said Merl, surveying the room with
+an air of consummate depreciation.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;There are others. There are some portraits and a number of small cabinet
+pictures.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Gerard Dows, and Jansens, and such like?&rdquo; resumed Merl; &ldquo;I understand: a
+mellow brown tint makes them, just as a glossy white satin petticoat makes
+a Terburg. Mr. Crow, you 've caught a Tartar,&rdquo; said he, with a grin.
+&ldquo;There's not a man in Europe can detect a copy from the original sooner
+than him before you. Now seven out of every eight of these here are
+veritable 'croûtes,'&mdash;what we call 'croûtes,' sir,&mdash;things sold
+at Christie's, and sent off to the Continent to be hung up in old châteaux
+in Flanders, or dilapidated villas in Italy, where your exploring
+Englishman discovers them by rare good luck, and brings them home with him
+as Cuyps or Claudes or Vandykes. I'll undertake,&rdquo; said he, looking around
+him,&mdash;&ldquo;I'll undertake to furnish you with a gallery, in every respect
+the duplicate of this, for&mdash;let me see&mdash;say three hundred
+pounds. Now, Mr. Crow,&rdquo; said Merl, taking a chair, and spreading out his
+legs before the fire, &ldquo;will you candidly answer me one question?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Tell me what it is,&rdquo; said Crow, cautiously.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I suppose by this time,&rdquo; said Merl, &ldquo;you are tolerably well satisfied
+that Herman Merl is not very easily duped? I mean to say that at least
+there are <i>softer</i> fellows to be found than the humble individual who
+addresses you.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I trust there are, indeed,&rdquo; said the other, sighing, &ldquo;or it would be a
+mighty poor world for Simmy Crow and the likes of him.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Well, I think so too,&rdquo; said Merl, chuckling to himself. &ldquo;The wide-awake
+ones have rather the best of it. But, to come back to my question, I was
+simply going to ask you if the whole of the Martin estate&mdash;house,
+demesne, woods, gardens, quarries, farms, and fisheries&mdash;was not
+pretty much of the same sort of thing as this here gallery?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;How? What do you mean?&rdquo; asked Crow, whose temper was barely, and with
+some difficulty, restrainable.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I mean, in plain words, a regular humbug,&mdash;that's all! and no more
+the representative of real value than these daubs here are the works of
+the great masters whose names they counterfeit.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Look here, sir,&rdquo; said Crow, rising, and approaching the other with a face
+of angry indignation, &ldquo;for aught I know, you may be right about these
+pictures. The chances are you are a dealer in such wares,&mdash;at least
+you talk like one,&mdash;but of the family that lived under this roof, and
+whose bread I have eaten for many a day, if you utter one word that even
+borders on disrespect,&mdash;if you as much as hint at&mdash;&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+What was to be the conclusion of Mr. Crow's menace we have no means of
+recording, for a servant, rushing in at the instant, summoned the artist
+with all speed to Miss Martin's presence. He found her, as he entered,
+with flushed cheeks and eyes flashing angrily, in one of the deep recesses
+of a window that looked out upon the lawn.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Come here, sir,&rdquo; cried she, hurriedly,&mdash;&ldquo;come here, and behold a
+sight such as you scarcely ever thought to look upon from these windows.
+Look here!&rdquo; And she pointed to an assemblage of about a hundred people,
+many of whom were rudely armed with stakes, gathered around the chief
+entrance of the castle. In the midst was a tall man, mounted upon a
+wretched horse, who seemed from his gestures to be haranguing the mob, and
+whom Crow speedily recognized to be Magennis of Barnagheela.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;What does all this mean?&rdquo; asked he, in astonishment.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;It means this, sir,&rdquo; said she, grasping his arm and speaking in a voice
+thick from passionate eagerness. &ldquo;That these people whom you see there
+have demanded the right to enter the house and search it from basement to
+roof. They are in quest of one that is missing; and although I have given
+my word of honor that none such is concealed here, they have dared to
+disbelieve me, and declare they will see for themselves. They might know
+me better,&rdquo; added she, with a bitter smile,&mdash;&ldquo;they might know me
+better, and that I no more utter a falsehood than I yield to a menace.
+See!&rdquo; exclaimed she, &ldquo;they are passing through the flower-garden,&mdash;they
+are approaching the lower windows. Take a horse, Mr. Crow, and ride for
+Kiltimmon; there is a police-station there,&mdash;bring up the force with
+you,&mdash;lose no time, I entreat you.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;But how&mdash;leave you here all alone?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Have no fears on that score, sir,&rdquo; said she, proudly; &ldquo;they may insult
+the roof that shelters me, to myself they will offer no outrage. But be
+quick; away at once, and with speed!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Had Mr. Crow been, what it must be owned had been difficult, a worse
+horseman than he was, he would never have hesitated to obey this behest.
+Ere many minutes, therefore, he was in the saddle and flying across
+country at a pace such as he never imagined any energy could have exacted
+from him.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;They have got a ladder up to the windows of the large drawing-room, Miss
+Mary,&rdquo; said a servant; &ldquo;they'll be in before many minutes.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Taking down two splendidly ornamented pistols from above the
+chimney-piece, Mary examined the priming, and ordering the servant away,
+she descended by a small private stair to the drawing-room beneath.
+Scarcely, however, had she crossed the threshold than she was met by a man
+eagerly hurrying away. Stepping back in astonishment, and with a face pale
+as death, he exclaimed, &ldquo;Is it Miss Martin?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yes, sir,&rdquo; replied she, firmly; &ldquo;and your name?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Mr. Merl&mdash;Herman Merl,&rdquo; said he, with a stealthy glance towards the
+windows, on the outside of which two fellows were now seated,
+communicating with those below.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;This is not a moment for much ceremony, sir,&rdquo; said she, promptly; &ldquo;but
+you are here opportunely. These people will have it that I am harboring
+here one that they are in pursuit of. I have assured them of their error,
+I have pledged my word of honor upon it, but they are not satisfied. They
+declare that they will search the house, and <i>I</i> as firmly declare
+they-shall not.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;But the person is really not here?&rdquo; broke in Merl.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I have said so, sir,&rdquo; rejoined she, haughtily.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Then why not let them search? Egad, I'd say, look away to your heart's
+content, pry into every hole and corner you please, only don't do any
+mischief to the furniture&mdash;don't let any&mdash;&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I was about to ask your assistance, sir, but your counsel saves me from
+the false step. To one who proffers such wise advice, arguments like
+these&rdquo;&mdash;and she pointed to the pistols&mdash;&ldquo;arguments like these
+would be most distasteful; and yet let us see if others may not be of your
+mind too.&rdquo; And steadily aiming her weapon for a second or two, she sent a
+ball through the window, about a foot above the head of one of the fellows
+without. Scarcely had the report rung out and the splintering glass
+fallen, than the two men leaped to the ground, while a wild cheer, half
+derision, half anger, burst from the mob beneath. &ldquo;Now, sir,&rdquo; continued
+she, with a smile of a very peculiar meaning, as she turned towards Merl,&mdash;&ldquo;now,
+sir, you will perceive that you have got into very indiscreet company,
+such as I 'm sure Captain Martin's letter never prepared you for; and
+although it is not exactly in accordance with the usual notions of Irish
+hospitality to point to the door, perhaps you will be grateful to me when
+I say that you can escape by that corridor. It leads to a stair which will
+conduct you to the stable-yard. I'll order a saddle-horse for you. I
+suppose you ride?&rdquo; And really the glance which accompanied these words was
+not a flattery.
+</p>
+<p>
+<a name="linkimage-0009" id="linkimage-0009">
+<!-- IMG --></a>
+</p>
+<div class="fig" style="width:80%;">
+<img src="images/222.jpg" width="100%" alt="222 " />
+</div>
+<p>
+However the proposition might have met Mr.' Merl's wishes there is no
+means of knowing, for a tremendous crash now interrupted the colloquy, and
+the same instant the door of the drawing-room was burst open, and
+Magennis, followed by a number of country people, entered.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I told you,&rdquo; cried he, rudely, &ldquo;that I'd not be denied. It's your own
+fault if you would drive me to enter here by force.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Well, sir, force has done it,&rdquo; said she, taking a seat as she spoke. &ldquo;I
+am here alone, and you may be proud of the achievement!&rdquo; The glance she
+directed towards Merl made that gentleman shrink back, and eventually
+slide noiselessly from the room, and escape from the scene altogether.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;If you'll send any one with me through the house, Miss Martin,&rdquo; began
+Magennis, in a tone of much subdued meaning&mdash;&ldquo;No, sir,&rdquo; broke she in&mdash;&ldquo;no,
+sir, I'll give no such order. You have already had my solemn word of
+honor, assuring you that there was not any one concealed here. The same
+incredulous disrespect you have shown to my word would accompany whatever
+direction I gave to my servants. Go wherever you please; for the time you
+are the master here. Mark me, sir,&rdquo; said she, as, half crestfallen and in
+evident shame, he was about to move from the room&mdash;&ldquo;mark me, sir, if
+I feel sorry that one who calls himself a gentleman should dishonor his
+station by discrediting the word, the plighted word, of a lady, yet I can
+forgive much to him whose feelings are under the impulse of passion. But
+how shall I speak my contempt for <i>you</i>,&rdquo;&mdash;and she turned a
+withering look of scorn on the men who followed him,&mdash;&ldquo;for you, who
+have dared to come here to insult me,&mdash;I, that if you had the least
+spark of honest manhood in your natures, you had died rather than have
+offended? Is this your requital for the part I have borne amongst you? Is
+it thus that you repay the devotion by which I have squandered all that I
+possessed, and would have given my life, too, for you and yours? Is it
+thus, think you, that your mothers and wives and sisters would requite me?
+Or will they welcome you back from your day's work, and say, Bravely done?
+You have insulted a lone girl in her home, outraged the roof whence she
+never issued save to serve you, and taught her to believe that the taunts
+your enemies cast upon you, and which she once took as personal affronts
+to herself, that they are just and true, and as less than you merited. Go
+back, men,&rdquo; added she, in a voice trembling with emotion,&mdash;&ldquo;go back,
+while it is time. Go back in shame, and let me never know who has dared to
+offer me this insult!&rdquo; And she hid her face between her hands, and bent
+down her head upon her lap. For several minutes she remained thus,
+overwhelmed and absorbed by intensely painful emotion, and when she lifted
+up her head, and looked around, they were gone! A solemn silence reigned
+on every side; not a word, nor a footfall, could be heard. She rushed to
+the window just in time to see a number of men slowly entering the wood,
+amidst whom she recognized Magennis, leading his horse by the bridle, and
+following the others, with bent-down head and sorrowful mien.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Oh, thank Heaven for this!&rdquo; cried she, passionately, as the tears gushed
+out and coursed down her face. &ldquo;Thank Heaven that they are not as others
+call them&mdash;cold-hearted and treacherous, craven in their hour of
+trial, and cruel in the day of their vengeance! I knew them better!&rdquo; It
+was long before she could sufficiently subdue her emotion to think calmly
+of what had occurred. At last she bethought her of Mr. Merl, and
+despatched a servant in his pursuit, with a polite request that he would
+return. The man came up with Merl as he had reached the small gate of the
+park, but no persuasions, no entreaties, could prevail on that gentleman
+to retrace his steps; nay, he was frank enough to say, &ldquo;He had seen quite
+enough of the West,&rdquo; and to invoke something very unlike benediction on
+his head if he ever passed another day in Galway.
+</p>
+<p>
+<a name="link2HCH0019" id="link2HCH0019">
+<!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+</p>
+<div style="height: 4em;">
+<br /><br /><br /><br />
+</div>
+<h2>
+CHAPTER XIX. MR. MERL'S &ldquo;LAST&rdquo; IRISH IMPRESSION
+</h2>
+<p>
+Never once turning his head towards Cro' Martin, Mr. Merl set out for
+Oughterard, where, weary and footsore, he arrived that same evening. His
+first care was to take some refreshment; his next to order horses for
+Dublin early for the following morning. This done, he sat down to write to
+Captain Martin, to convey to him what Merl designated as a &ldquo;piece of his
+mind,&rdquo; a phrase which, in popular currency, is always understood to imply
+the very reverse of any flattery. The truth was, Mr. Merl began to suspect
+that his Irish liens were a very bad investment, that property in that
+country was held under something like a double title, the one conferred by
+law, the other maintained by a resolute spirit and a stout heart; that
+parchments required to be seconded by pistols, and that he who owned an
+estate must always hold himself in readiness to fight for it.
+</p>
+<p>
+Now, these were all very unpalatable considerations. They rendered
+possession perilous, they made sale almost impossible. In the cant phrase
+of Ceylon, the Captain had sold him a wild elephant; or, to speak less
+figuratively, disposed of what he well knew the purchaser could never
+avail himself of. If Mr. Merl was an emblem of blandness and good temper
+at the play-table, courteous and conceding at every incident of the game,
+it was upon the very wise calculation that the politeness was profitable.
+The little irregularities that he pardoned all gave him an insight into
+the character of his antagonists; and where he appeared to have lost a
+battle, he had gained more than a victory in knowledge of the enemy.
+</p>
+<p>
+These blandishments were, however, no real part of the man's natural
+temperament, which was eminently distrustful and suspicious, wary to
+detect a blot, prompt and sharp to hit it. A vague, undefined impression
+had now come over him that the Captain had overreached him; that even if
+unincumbered,&mdash;which was far from the case,&mdash;this same estate
+was like a forfeited territory, which to own a man must assert his mastery
+with the strong hand of force. &ldquo;I should like to see myself settling down
+amongst those savages,&rdquo; thought he, &ldquo;collecting my rents with dragoons, or
+levying a fine with artillery. Property, indeed! You might as well convey
+to me by bill of sale the right over a drove of wild buffaloes in South
+America, or give me a title to a given number of tigers in Bengal. He'd be
+a bold man that would even venture to come and have a look at 'his own.'&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+It was in this spirit, therefore, that he composed his epistle, which
+assuredly lacked nothing on the score of frankness and candor. All his
+&ldquo;Irish impressions&rdquo; had been unfavorable. He had eaten badly, he had slept
+worse; the travelling was rude, the climate detestable; and lastly, where
+he had expected to have been charmed with the ready wit, and amused with
+the racy humor of the people, he had only been terrified&mdash;terrified
+almost to death&mdash;by their wild demeanor, and a ferocity that made his
+heart quake. &ldquo;Your cousin,&rdquo; said he,&mdash;&ldquo;your cousin, whom, by the way,
+I only saw for a few minutes, seemed admirably adapted to the exigencies
+of the social state around her; and although ball practice has not been
+included amongst the ordinary items of young ladies' acquirements, I am
+satisfied that it might advantageously form part of an Irish education.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;As to your offer of a seat in Parliament, I can only say,&rdquo; continued he,
+&ldquo;that as the Member of Oughterard I should always feel as though I were
+seated over a barrel of gunpowder; while the very idea of meeting my
+constituency makes me shudder. I am, however, quite sensible of the honor
+intended me, both upon that score and in your proposal of my taking up my
+residence at Cro' Martin. The social elevation, and so forth, to ensue
+from such a course of proceeding would have this disadvantage,&mdash;it
+would not pay! No, Captain Martin, the settlement between us must stand
+upon another basis,&mdash;the very simple and matter-of-fact one called £
+s. d. I shall leave this to-morrow, and be in town, I hope, by Wednesday;
+you can, therefore, give your man of business, Mr. Saunders, his
+instructions to meet me at Wimpole's, and state what terms of liquidation
+he is prepared to offer. Suffice it for the present to say that I decline
+any arrangement which should transfer to me any portion of the estate. I
+declare to you, frankly, I'd not accept the whole of it on the condition
+of retaining the proprietorship.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+When Mr. Merl had just penned the last sentence, the door slowly and
+cautiously was opened behind him, and a very much carbuncled face
+protruded into the room. &ldquo;Yes, that's himself,&rdquo; muttered a voice; and ere
+Merl had been able to detect the speaker, the door was closed. These
+casual interruptions to his privacy had so frequently occurred since the
+commencement of his tour, that he only included them amongst his other
+Irish &ldquo;disagreeables;&rdquo; and so he was preparing to enter on another
+paragraph, when a very decisive knock at the door startled him, and before
+he could say &ldquo;Come in,&rdquo; a tall, red-faced, vulgar-looking man, somewhat
+stooped in the shoulders, and with that blear-eyed watery expression so
+distinctive in hard drinkers, slowly entered, and shutting the door behind
+him, advanced to the fire.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;My name, sir, is Brierley,&rdquo; said he, with a full, rich brogue.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Brierley&mdash;Brierley&mdash;never heard of Brierley before,&rdquo; said Mr.
+Merl, affecting a flippant ease that was very remote from his heart.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Better late than never, sir,&rdquo; rejoined the other, coolly seating himself,
+and crossing his arms on his breast. &ldquo;I have come here on the part of my
+friend Tom,&mdash;Mr. Magennis, I mean,&mdash;of Barnagheela, who told me
+to track you out.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Much obliged, I'm sure, for the attention,&rdquo; said Merl, with an assumed
+smartness.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;That 's all right; so you should,&rdquo; continued Brierley. &ldquo;Tom told me that
+you were present at Cro' Martin when he was outraged and insulted,&mdash;by
+a female of course, or he wouldn't be making a complaint of it now,&mdash;and
+as he is not the man that ever lay under a thing of the kind, or ever
+will, he sent me here to you, to arrange where you 'd like to have it, and
+when.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;To have what?&rdquo; asked Merl, with a look of unfeigned terror.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Baythershin! how dull we are!&rdquo; said Mr. Brierley, with a finger to his
+very red nose. &ldquo;Sure it's not thinking of the King's Bench you are, that
+you want me to speak clearer.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I want to know your meaning, sir,&mdash;if you have a meaning.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Be cool, honey; keep yourself cool. Without you happen to find that
+warmth raises your heart, I 'd say again, be cool. I've one simple
+question to ask you,&rdquo;&mdash;here he dropped his voice to a low, cautious
+whisper,&mdash;&ldquo;Will ye blaze?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Will I what?&rdquo; cried Merl.
+</p>
+<p>
+Mr. Brierley arose, and drawing himself up to his full height, extended
+his arm in the attitude of one taking aim with a pistol. &ldquo;Eh!&rdquo; cried he,
+&ldquo;you comprehend me now, don't you?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Fight&mdash;fight a duel!&rdquo; exclaimed Merl, aloud.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Whisht! whisht! speak lower,&rdquo; said Brierley; &ldquo;there's maybe a chap
+listening at the door this minute!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Accepting the intimation in a very different spirit from that in which it
+was offered, Merl rushed to the door, and threw it wide open. &ldquo;Waiter!&mdash;landlord!&mdash;house!&mdash;waiter!&rdquo;
+ screamed he, at the top of his voice. And in an instant three or four
+slovenly-looking fellows, with dirty napkins in dirtier hands, surrounded
+him.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;What is it, your honer?&mdash;what is it?&rdquo; asked they, in a breath.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Don't you hear what the gentleman's asking for?&rdquo; said Brierley, with a
+half-serious face. &ldquo;He wants a chaise-to the door as quick as lightning.
+He 's off this minute.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yes, by Jupiter! that I am,&rdquo; said Merl, wiping the perspiration from his
+forehead.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Take your last look at the West, dear, as you pass the Shannon, for I
+don't think you 'll ever come so far again,&rdquo; said Brierley, with a grin,
+as he moved by him to descend the stairs.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;If I do, may&mdash;&rdquo; But the slam of his room-door, and the rattle of the
+key as he locked it, cut short Mr. Merl's denunciation.
+</p>
+<p>
+In less than half an hour afterwards a yellow post-chaise left the &ldquo;Martin
+Arms&rdquo; at full speed, a wild yell of insult and derision greeting it as it
+swept by, showing how the Oughterard public appreciated its inmate!
+</p>
+<p>
+<a name="link2HCH0020" id="link2HCH0020">
+<!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+</p>
+<div style="height: 4em;">
+<br /><br /><br /><br />
+</div>
+<h2>
+CHAPTER XX. SOMETHING NOT EXACTLY FLIRTATION.
+</h2>
+<p>
+Most travelled reader, have you ever stood upon the plateau at the foot of
+the Alten-Schloss in Baden, just before sunset, and seen the golden glory
+spread out like a sheen over the vast plain beneath you, with waving
+forests, the meandering Rhine, and the blue Vosges mountains beyond all?
+It is a noble landscape, where every feature is bold, and throughout which
+light and shade alternate in broad, effective masses, showing that you are
+gazing on a scene of great extent, and taking in miles of country with
+your eye. It is essentially German, too, in its characteristics. The
+swelling undulations of the soil, the deep, dark forests, the picturesque
+homesteads, with shadowy eaves and carved quaint balconies, the great
+gigantic wagons slowly toiling through the narrow lanes, over which the
+&ldquo;Lindens&rdquo; spread a leafy canopy,&mdash;all are of the Vaterland.
+</p>
+<p>
+Some fancied resemblance&mdash;it was in reality no more&mdash;to a view
+from a window at Cro' Martin had especially endeared this spot to Martin,
+who regularly was carried up each evening to pass an hour or so, dreaming
+away in that half-unconsciousness to which his malady had reduced him.
+There he sat, scarcely a remnant of his former self, a leaden dulness in
+his eye, and a massive immobility in the features which once were plastic
+with every passing mood that stirred him. The clasped hands and slightly
+bent-down head gave a character of patient, unresisting meaning to his
+figure, which the few words he dropped from time to time seemed to
+confirm.
+</p>
+<p>
+At a little distance off, and on the very verge of the cliff, Kate
+Henderson was seated sketching; and behind her, occasionally turning to
+walk up and down the terraced space, was Massingbred, once more in full
+health, and bearing in appearance the signs of his old, impatient humor.
+Throwing away his half-smoked cigar, and with a face whose expression
+betokened the very opposite of all calm and ease of mind, he drew nigh to
+where she sat, and watched her over her shoulder. For a while she worked
+away without noticing his presence. At last she turned slightly about, and
+looking up at him, said, &ldquo;You see, it's very nearly finished.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+<a name="linkimage-0010" id="linkimage-0010">
+<!-- IMG --></a>
+</p>
+<div class="fig" style="width:80%;">
+<img src="images/232.jpg" width="100%" alt="" /><br />
+</div>
+<p>
+alt="232 &ldquo;>
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Well, and what then?&rdquo; asked he, bluntly.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Do you forget that I gave you until that time to change your opinion?
+that when I was shadowing in this foreground I said, 'Wait 'till I have
+done this sketch, and see if you be of the same mind,' and you agreed?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;This might be very pleasant trifling if nothing were at stake, Miss
+Henderson,&rdquo; said he; &ldquo;but remember that I cannot hold all my worldly
+chances as cheaply as <i>you</i> seem to do them.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Light another cigar, and sit down here beside me,&mdash;I don't dislike
+smoke, and it may, perchance, be a peace calumet between us; and let us
+talk, if possible, reasonably and calmly.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+He obeyed like one who seemed to feel that her word was a command, and sat
+down on the cliff at her side.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;There, now,&rdquo; said she, &ldquo;be useful; hold that color-case for me, and give
+me your most critical counsel. Do you like my sketch?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Very much indeed.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Where do you find fault with it? There must be a fault, or your criticism
+is worth nothing.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Its greatest blemish in my eyes is the time it has occupied you. Since
+you began it you have very rarely condescended to speak of anything else.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;A most unjust speech, and an ungrateful one. It was when throwing in
+those trees yonder, I persuaded you to recall your farewell address to
+your borough friends; it was the same day that I sketched that figure
+there, that I showed you the great mistake of your present life. There is
+no greater error, believe me, than supposing that a Parliamentary success,
+like a social one, can be achieved by mere brilliancy. Party is an army,
+and you must serve in the ranks before you can wear your epaulets.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I have told you already,&mdash;I tell you again,&mdash;I 'm tired of the
+theme that has myself alone for its object.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Of whom would you speak, then?&rdquo; said she, still intently busied with her
+drawing.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You ask me when you know well of whom,&rdquo; said he, hurriedly. &ldquo;Nay, no
+menaces; I could not if I would be silent. It is impossible for me any
+longer to continue this struggle with myself. Here now, before I leave
+this spot, you shall answer me&mdash;&rdquo; He stopped suddenly, as though he
+had said more than he intended, or more than he well knew how to continue.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Go on,&rdquo; said she, calmly. And her fingers never trembled as they held the
+brush.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I confess I do envy that tranquil spirit of yours,&rdquo; said he, bitterly.
+&ldquo;It is such a triumph to be calm, cold, and impassive at a moment when
+others feel their reason tottering and their brain a chaos.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;There is nothing so easy, sir,&rdquo; said she, proudly. &ldquo;All that I can boast
+of is not to have indulged in illusions which seem to have a charm for <i>you</i>.
+You say you want explicit-ness. You shall have it. There was one condition
+on which I offered you my friendship and my advice. You accepted the
+bargain, and we were friends. After a while you came and said that you
+rued your compact; that you discovered your feelings for me went further;
+that mere friendship, as you phrased it, would not suffice&mdash;&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I told you, rather,&rdquo; broke he in, &ldquo;that I wished to put that feeling to
+the last test, by linking your fortune with my own forever.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Very well, I accept that version. You offered to make me your wife, and
+in return, I asked you to retract your words,&mdash;to suffer our
+relations to continue on their old footing, nor subject me to the
+necessity of an explanation painful to both of us. For a while you
+consented; now you seem impatient at your concession, and ask me to resume
+the subject. Be it so, but for the last time.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Massingbred's cheeks grew deadly pale, but he never uttered a word.
+</p>
+<p>
+After a second's pause, she resumed: &ldquo;Your affections are less engaged in
+this case than you think. You would make me your wife just as you would do
+anything else that gave a bold defiance to the world, to show a
+consciousness of your own power, to break down any obstacle, and make the
+prejudices or opinions of society give way before you. You have energy and
+self-esteem enough to make this succeed. Your wife&mdash;albeit the
+steward's daughter&mdash;the governess! would be received, invited,
+visited, and the rest of it; and so far as <i>you</i> were concerned the
+triumph would be complete. Now, however, turn a little attention to the
+other side of the medal. What is to requite <i>me</i> for all this
+courtesy on sufferance, all this mockery of consideration? Where am I to
+find my friendships, where even discover my duties? You only know of one
+kind of pride, that of station and social eminence. I can tell you there
+is another, loftier far,&mdash;the consciousness that no inequality of
+position can obliterate, what I feel and know in myself of superiority to
+those fine ladies whose favorable notice you would entreat for me. Smile
+at the vanity of this declaration if you like, sir, but, at least, own
+that I am consistent; for I am prouder in the independence of my present
+dependence than I should be in all the state of Mr. Massingbred's wife.
+You can see, therefore, that I could not accept this change as the great
+elevation you would deem it. You would be stooping to raise one who could
+never persuade herself that she was exalted. I am well aware that
+inequality of one sort or another is the condition of most marriages. The
+rank of one compensates for the wealth of the other. Here it is affluence
+and age, there it is beauty and poverty. People treat the question in a
+good commercial spirit, and balance the profit and loss like tradesfolk;
+but even in this sense our compact would be impossible, since <i>you</i>
+would endow me with what has no value in my eyes, and <i>I</i>, worse off
+still, have absolutely nothing to give in return.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Give me your love, dearest Kate,&rdquo; cried he, &ldquo;and, supported by that, you
+shall see that I deserve it. Believe me, it is your own proud spirit that
+exaggerates the difficulties that would await us in society.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I should scorn myself if I thought of them,&rdquo; broke she in, haughtily;
+&ldquo;and remember, sir, these are not the words of one who speaks in
+ignorance. I, too, have seen that great world, on which your affections
+are so fixed. I have mixed with it, and know it. Notwithstanding all the
+cant of moralists, I do not believe it to be more hollow or more heartless
+than other classes. Its great besetting sin is not of self-growth, for it
+comes of the slavish adulation offered by those beneath it,&mdash;the
+grovelling worship of the would-be fine folk, who would leave friends and
+home and hearth to be admitted even to the antechambers of the great. They
+who offer up this incense are in my eyes far more despicable than they who
+accept the sacrifice; but I would not cast my lot with either. Do not
+smile, sir, as if these were high-flown sentiments; they are the veriest
+commonplaces of one who loves commonplace, who neither seeks affections
+with coronets nor friendships in gold coaches, but who would still less be
+of that herd&mdash;mute, astonished, and awe-struck&mdash;who worship
+them!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You deem me, then, deficient in this same independence of spirit?&rdquo; cried
+Massingbred, half indignantly.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I certainly do not accept your intention of marrying beneath you as a
+proof of it. Must I again tell you, sir, that in such cases it is the
+poor, weak, patient, forgotten woman pays all the penalty, and that, in
+the very conflict with the world the man has his reward?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;If you loved me, Kate,&rdquo; said he, in a tone of deep sorrow, &ldquo;it is not
+thus you would discuss this question.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+She made no reply, but bending down lower over her drawing, worked away
+with increased rapidity.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Still,&rdquo; cried he, passionately, &ldquo;I am not to be deterred by a defeat.
+Tell me, at least, how I can win that love, which is to me the great prize
+of life. You read my faults, you see my shortcomings clearly enough; be
+equally just, then, to anything there is of good or hopeful about me. Do
+this, Kate, and I will put my fate upon the issue.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;In plain words,&rdquo; said she, calmly, &ldquo;you ask me what manner of man I would
+consent to marry. I 'll tell you. One who with ability enough to attain
+any station, and talents to gain any eminence, has lived satisfied with
+that in which he was born; one who has made the independence of his
+character so felt by the world that his actions have been regarded as
+standards, a man of honor and of his word; employing his knowledge of
+life, not for the purposes of overreaching, but for self-correction and
+improvement; well bred enough to be a peer, simple as a peasant; such a
+man, in fact, as could afford to marry a governess, and, while elevating
+her to his station, never compromise his own with his equals. I don't
+flatter myself,&rdquo; said she, smiling, &ldquo;that I 'm likely to draw this prize;
+but I console myself by thinking that I could not accept aught beneath it
+as great fortune. I see, sir, the humility of my pretensions amuses you,
+and it is all the better for both of us if we can treat these things
+jestingly.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Nay, Kate, you are unfair&mdash;unjust,&rdquo; broke in Mas-singbred.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Mr. Martin begins to feel it chilly, Miss Henderson,&rdquo; said a servant at
+this moment. &ldquo;Shall we return to the hotel?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yes, by all means,&rdquo; said she, rising hastily. The next instant she was
+busily engaged shawling and muffling the sick man, who accepted her
+attentions with the submissive-ness of a child.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;That will do, Molly, thank you, darling,&rdquo; said he, in a feeble voice;
+&ldquo;you are so kind, so good to me.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;The evening is fresh, sir, almost cold,&rdquo; said she.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yes, dear, the climate is not what it used to be. We have cut down too
+many of those trees, Molly, yonder.&rdquo; And he pointed with his thin fingers
+towards the Rhine. &ldquo;We have thinned the wood overmuch, but they'll grow
+again, dear, though I shall not be here to see them.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;He thinks I am his niece,&rdquo; whispered Kate, &ldquo;and fancies himself at Cro'
+Martin.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I suppose they'll advise my trying a warm country, Molly, a milder air,&rdquo;
+ muttered he, as they slowly carried him along. &ldquo;But home, after all, is
+home; one likes to see the old faces and the old objects around them,&mdash;all
+the more when about to leave them forever!&rdquo; And as the last words came,
+two heavy tears stole slowly along his cheeks, and his pale lips quivered
+with emotion. Now speaking in a low, weak voice to himself, now sighing
+heavily, as though in deep depression, he was borne along towards the
+hotel. Nor did the gay and noisy groups which thronged the thoroughfares
+arouse him. He saw them, but seemed not to heed them. His dreary gaze
+wandered over the brilliant panorama without interest or speculation. Some
+painful and difficult thoughts, perhaps, did all these unaccustomed sights
+and sounds bring across his mind, embarrassing him to reconcile their
+presence with the scene he fancied himself beholding; but even these
+impressions were faint and fleeting.
+</p>
+<p>
+As they turned to cross the little rustic bridge in front of the hotel, a
+knot of persons moved off the path to make way for them, one of whom fixed
+his eyes steadily on the sick man, gazing with the keen scrutiny of
+intense interest; then suddenly recalling himself to recollection, he
+hastily retreated within the group.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You are right,&rdquo; muttered he to one near him, &ldquo;he <i>is</i> 'booked;' my
+bond will come due before the month ends.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And you'll be an estated gent, Herman, eh?&rdquo; said a very dark-eyed,
+hook-nosed man at his side.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Well, I hope I shall act the part as well as my neighbors,&rdquo; said Mr.
+Merl, with that mingled assurance and humility that made up his manner.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Was n't that Massingbred that followed them,&mdash;he that made the
+famous speech the other day in Parliament?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; said Merl. &ldquo;I 've got a bit of 'stiff' with his endorsement in my
+pocket this minute for one hundred and fifty.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;What's it worth, Merl?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Perhaps ten shillings; but I 'd not part with it quite so cheaply. He'll
+not always be an M.P., and we shall see if he can afford to swagger by an
+old acquaintance without so much as a 'How d' ye do?'&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;There, he is coming back again,&rdquo; said the other. And at the same moment
+Massingbred walked slowly up to the spot, his easy smile upon his face,
+and his whole expression that of a careless, unburdened nature.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I just caught a glimpse of you as I passed, Merl,&rdquo; said he, with a
+familiar nod; &ldquo;and you were exactly the man I wanted to see.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Too much honor, sir,&rdquo; said Merl, affecting a degree of haughty distance
+at the familiarity of this address.
+</p>
+<p>
+Massingbred smiled at the mock dignity, and went on; &ldquo;I have something to
+say to you. Will you give me a call this evening at the Cour de Bade, say
+about nine or half-past?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I have an engagement this evening.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Put it off, then, that's all, Master Merl, for mine is an important
+matter, and very nearly concerns yourself.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Merl was silent. He would have liked much to display before his friends a
+little of the easy dash and swagger that he had just been exhibiting, to
+have shown them how cavalierly he could treat a rising statesman and a
+young Parliamentary star of the first order; but the question crossed him,
+Was it safe? what might the luxury cost him? &ldquo;Am I to bring that little
+acceptance of yours along with me?&rdquo; said he, in a half whisper, while a
+malicious sparkle twinkled in his eye.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Why not, man? Certainly, if it gives you the least pleasure in life; only
+don't be later than half-past nine.&rdquo; And with one of his sauciest laughs
+Massingbred moved away, leaving the Jew very far from content with &ldquo;the
+situation.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Merl, however, soon rallied. He had been amusing his friends, just before
+this interruption, with a narrative of his Irish journey: he now resumed
+the theme. All that he found faulty, all even that he deemed new or
+strange or unintelligible in that unhappy country, he had dressed up in
+the charming colors of his cockney vocabulary, and his hearers were worthy
+of him! There is but little temptation, however, to linger in their
+company, and so we leave them.
+</p>
+<p>
+<a name="link2HCH0021" id="link2HCH0021">
+<!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+</p>
+<div style="height: 4em;">
+<br /><br /><br /><br />
+</div>
+<h2>
+CHAPTER XXI. LADY DOROTHEA
+</h2>
+<p>
+The Cour de Bade, at which excellent hotel the Martins were installed,
+received on the day we have just chronicled a new arrival. He had come by
+the diligence, one of that undistinguishable ten thousand England sends
+off every week from her shores to represent her virtues or her vices, her
+oddities, vulgarities, and pretensions, to the critical eyes of
+continental Europe.
+</p>
+<p>
+Perfectly innocent of any foreign language, and with a delightful
+ambiguity as to the precise geography of where he stood, he succeeded,
+after some few failures, in finding out where the Martins stopped, and had
+now sent up his name to Lady Dorothea, that name being &ldquo;Mr. Maurice
+Scanlan.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Lady Dorothea Martin had given positive orders that except in the
+particular case of this individual she was not to be interrupted by any
+visitor. She glanced her eye at the card, and then handed it across the
+table to her son, who coolly read it, and threw it from him with the air
+of one saying to himself, &ldquo;Here's more of it! more complication, more
+investigation, deeper research into my miserable difficulties, and
+consequently more unhappiness.&rdquo; The table at which they were seated was
+thickly covered with parchments, papers, documents, and letters of every
+shape and size. There were deeds, and bonds, and leases, rent-rolls, and
+valuations, and powers of attorney, and all the other imposing accessories
+of estated property. There were also voluminous bills of costs, formidable
+long columns of figures, &ldquo;carried over&rdquo; and &ldquo;carried over&rdquo; till the very
+eye of the reader wearied of the dread numerals and turned recklessly to
+meet the awful total at the bottom! Terrified by the menacing applications
+addressed to Mr. Martin on his son's account, and which arrived by every
+post, Lady Dorothea had resolved upon herself entering upon the whole
+state of the Captain's liabilities, as well as the complicated questions
+of the property generally.
+</p>
+<p>
+Distrust of her own powers was not in the number of her Ladyship's
+defects. Sufficiently affluent to be always able to surround herself with
+competent subordinates, she fancied&mdash;a not very uncommon error, by
+the way&mdash;that she individually accomplished all that she had obtained
+through another. Her taste in the fine arts, her skill in music, her
+excellence as a letter-writer, were all accomplishments in this wise; and
+it is not improbable that, had she been satisfied to accept her success in
+finance through a similar channel, the result might have proved just as
+fortunate. A shrinking dislike, however, to expose the moneyed
+circumstances of the family, and a feeling of dread as to the possible
+disclosures which should come out, prevented her from accepting such
+co-operation. She had, therefore, addressed herself to the task with no
+other aid than that of her son,&mdash;a partnership, it must be owned,
+which relieved her very little of her burden.
+</p>
+<p>
+Had the Captain been called away from the pleasures and amusements of life
+to investigate the dry records of some far-away cousin's embarrassments,&mdash;to
+dive into the wearisome narrative of money-borrowing, bill-renewing, and
+the rest of it, by one whom he had scarcely known or seen,&mdash;his
+manner and bearing could not possibly have betrayed stronger signs of
+utter weariness and apathy than he now exhibited. Smoking his cigar, and
+trimming his nails with a very magnificent penknife, he gave short and
+listless replies to her Ladyship's queries, and did but glance at the
+papers which from time to time she handed to him for explanation or
+inquiry.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;So he is come at last!&rdquo; exclaimed she, as the Captain threw down the
+visiting-card. &ldquo;Shall we see him at once?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;By Jove! I think we've had enough of 'business,' as they call it, for one
+morning,&rdquo; cried he. &ldquo;Here have we been since a little after eleven, and it
+is now four, and I am as sick of accounts and figures as though I were a
+Treasury clerk.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;We have done next to nothing, after all!&rdquo; said she, peevishly.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And I told you as much when you began,&rdquo; said he, lighting a fresh cigar.
+&ldquo;There's no seeing one's way through these kind of things after the lapse
+of a year or two. Fordyce gets hold of the bills you gave Mossop, and
+Rawkins buys up some of the things you had given renewals for, and then
+all that trash you took in part payment of your acceptances turns up, some
+day or other, to be paid for; and what between the bills that never were
+to be negotiated&mdash;but somehow do get abroad&mdash;and the sums sent
+to meet others applied in quite a different direction, I'll lay eighty to
+fifty in tens or ponies there's no gentleman living ever mastered one of
+these embarrassments. One must be bred to it, my Lady, take my word for
+it. It's like being a crack rider or a poet,&mdash;it's born with a man.
+'The Henderson,'&rdquo; added he, after a pause, &ldquo;she can do it, and I should
+like to see what she couldn't!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I am curious to learn how you became acquainted with these financial
+abilities of Miss Henderson?&rdquo; said Lady Dorothea, haughtily.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Simply enough. I was poring over these confounded accounts one day at
+Manheim, and I chanced to ask her a question,&mdash;something about
+compound interest, I think it was,&mdash;and so she came and looked over
+what I was doing, or rather endeavoring to do. It was that affair with
+Throgmorton, where I was to meet one third of the bills, and Merl and he
+were to look to the remainder; but there was a reservation that if Comus
+won the Oaks, I was to stand free&mdash;no, that's not it&mdash;if Comus
+won the double event&mdash;&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Never mind your stupid contract. What of Miss Henderson?&rdquo; broke in Lady
+Dorothea.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Well, she came over, as I told you, and took up a pencil and began
+working away with all sorts of signs and crosses,&mdash;regular algebra,
+by Jove!&mdash;and in about five minutes out came the whole thing, all
+square, showing that I stood to win on either event, and came off
+splendidly if the double should turn up. 'I wish,' said I to her, 'you 'd
+just run your eye over my book and see how I stand.' She took it over to
+the fire, and before I could well believe she had glanced at it, she said:
+'This is all full of blunders. You have left yourself open to three
+casualties, any one of which will sweep away all your winnings. Take the
+odds on Roehampton, and lay on Slingsby a couple of hundred more,&mdash;three,
+if you can get it,&mdash;and you 'll be safe enough. And when you 've done
+that,' said she, 'I have another piece of counsel to give; but first say
+will you take it?' 'I give you my word upon it,' said I. 'Then it is
+this,' said she: 'make no more wagers on the turf. You haven't skill to
+make what is called a &ldquo;good book,&rdquo; and you 'll always be a sufferer.'&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Did n't she vouchsafe to offer you her admirable assistance?&rdquo; asked her
+Ladyship, with a sneer.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;No, by Jove!&rdquo; said he, not noticing the tone of sarcasm; &ldquo;and when I
+asked her, 'Would not she afford me a little aid?' she quickly said, 'Not
+on any account. You are now in a difficulty, and I willingly come forward
+to extricate you. Far different were the case should I conspire with you
+to place others in a similar predicament. Besides, I have your pledge that
+you have now done with these transactions, and forever.'&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;What an admirable monitor! One only wonders how so much morality coexists
+with such very intimate knowledge of ignoble pursuits.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;By Jove! she knows everything,&rdquo; broke in the Captain. &ldquo;Such a canter as
+she gave me t' other morning about idleness and the rest of it, saying how
+I ought to study Hindostanee, and get a staff appointment, and so on,&mdash;that
+every one ought to place himself above the accidents of fortune; and when
+I said something about having no opportunity at hand, she replied, 'Never
+complain of that; begin with <i>me</i>. I know quite enough to initiate
+you; and as to Sanscrit, I 'm rather &ldquo;up&rdquo; in it.'&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I trust you accepted the offer?&rdquo; said her Ladyship, with an ambiguous
+smile.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Well, I can't say I did. I hate work,&mdash;at least that kind of work.
+Besides, one doesn't like to come out 'stupid' in these kind of things,
+and so I merely said, 'I 'd think of it&mdash;very kind of her,' and so
+on.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Did it never occur to you all this while,&rdquo; began her Ladyship; and then
+suddenly correcting herself, she stopped short, and said, &ldquo;By the way, Mr.
+Scanlan is waiting for his answer. Ring the bell, and let him come in.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Perhaps it was the imperfect recollection of that eminent individual,&mdash;perhaps
+the altered circumstances in which she now saw him, and possibly some
+actual changes in the man himself,&mdash;but really Lady Dorothea almost
+started with surprise as he entered the room, dressed in a dark pelisse,
+richly braided and frogged, an embroidered travelling-cap in his hand, and
+an incipient moustache on his upper lip,&mdash;all evidencing how rapidly
+he had turned his foreign experiences to advantage. There was, too, in his
+address a certain confident assurance that told how quickly the habits of
+the &ldquo;Table d'hôte&rdquo; had impressed him, and how instantaneously his nature
+had imbibed the vulgar ease of the &ldquo;Continent.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You have just arrived, Mr. Scanlan?&rdquo; said her Ladyship, haughtily, and
+not a little provoked at the shake-hand salutation her son had accorded
+him.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yes, my Lady, this instant, and such a journey as we 've had! No water on
+the Rhine for the steamers; and then, when we took to the land, a perfect
+deluge of rain, that nearly swept us away. At Eisleben, or some such name,
+we had an upset.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;What day did you leave Ireland?&rdquo; asked she, in utter indifference as to
+the casualty.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Tuesday fortnight last, my Lady. I was detained two days in Dublin making
+searches&mdash;&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Have you brought us any letters, sir?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;One from Miss Mary, my Lady, and another from Mr. Repton&mdash;very
+pressing he said it was. I hope Mr. Martin is better? Your Ladyship's last&mdash;&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Not much improvement,&rdquo; said she, stiffly, while her thin lips were
+compressed with an expression that might mean pride or sorrow, or both.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And the country, sir? How did you leave it looking?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Pretty well, my Lady. More frightened than hurt, as a body might say.
+They 've had a severe winter, and a great deal of sickness; the rains,
+too, have done a deal of mischief; but on the whole matters are looking up
+again.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Will the rents be paid, sir?&rdquo; asked she, sharply.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Indeed, I hope so, my Lady. Some, of course, will be backward, and beg
+for time, and a few more will take advantage of Magennis's success, and
+strive to fight us off.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;There must have been some gross mismanagement in that business, sir,&rdquo;
+ broke in her Ladyship. &ldquo;Had I been at home, I promise you the matter would
+have ended differently.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Mr. Repton directed all the proceedings himself, my Lady. He conferred
+with Miss Mary.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;What could a young lady know about such matters?&rdquo; said she, angrily. &ldquo;Any
+prospect of a tenant for the house, sir?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;If your Ladyship really decides on not going back&mdash;&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Not the slightest intention of doing so, sir. If it depended upon me, I'd
+rather pull it down and sell the materials than return to live there. You
+know yourself, sir, the utter barbarism we were obliged to submit to. No
+intercourse with the world&mdash;no society&mdash;very frequently no
+communication by post. Surrounded by a set of ragged creatures, all
+importunity and idleness, at one moment all defiance and insolence, at the
+next crawling and abject. But it is really a theme I cannot dwell upon.
+Give me your letters, sir, and let me see you this evening.&rdquo; And taking
+the papers from his hand, she swept out of the room in a haughty state.
+</p>
+<p>
+The Captain and Mr. Scanlan exchanged looks, and were silent, but their
+glances were far more intelligible than aught either of them would have
+ventured to say aloud; and when the attorney's eyes, having followed her
+Ladyship to the door, turned and rested on the Captain, the other gave a
+brief short nod of assent, as though to say, &ldquo;Yes, you are right; she's
+just the same as ever.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And <i>you</i>, Captain,&rdquo; said Scanlan, in his tone of natural
+familiarity,&mdash;&ldquo;how is the world treating <i>you?</i>&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Devilish badly, Master Scanlan.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Why, what is it doing, then?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I'll tell you what it's doing! It's charging me fifty&mdash;ay, sixty per
+cent; it's protesting my bills, stimulating my blessed creditors to
+proceed against me, worrying my very life out of me with letters. Letters
+to the governor, letters to the Horse Guards, and, last of all, it has
+just lamed Bonesetter, the horse 'I stood to win' on for the Chester Cup,
+I would n't have taken four thousand for my book yesterday morning!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Bad news all this.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I believe you,&rdquo; said he, lighting a cigar, and throwing another across
+the table to Scanlan. &ldquo;It's just bad news, and I have nothing else for
+many a long day past. A fellow of your sort, Master Maurice, punting away
+at county races and small sweepstakes, has a precious deal better time of
+it than a captain of the King's Hussars with his head and shoulders in the
+Fleet.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Come, come, who knows but luck will turn, Captain? Make a book on the
+Oaks.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I've done it; and I'm in for it, too,&rdquo; said the other, savagely.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Raise a few thousands, you can always sell a reversion.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I have done that also,&rdquo; said he, still more angrily.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;With your position and advantages you could always marry well. If you'd
+just beat up the manufacturing districts, you'd get your eighty thousand
+as sure as I'm here! And then matrimony admits of a man's changing all his
+habits. He can sell off hunters, get rid of a racing stable, and twenty
+other little embarrassments, and only gain character by the economy.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I don't care a brass farthing for that part of the matter, Scanlan. No
+man shall dictate to me how I 'm to spend my money. Do you just find me
+the tin, and I 'll find the talent to scatter it.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;If it can't be done by a post-obit&mdash;&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I tell you, sir,&rdquo; cried Martin, peevishly, &ldquo;as I have told you before,
+that has been done. There is such a thing as pumping a well dry, is n't
+there?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Scanlan made a sudden exclamation of horror; and after a pause, said,
+&ldquo;Already!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Ay, sir, already!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I had my suspicions about it,&rdquo; muttered Scanlan, gloomily.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You had? And how so, may I beg to ask?&rdquo; said Martin, angrily.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I saw him down there, myself.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Saw whom? Whom are you talking of?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Of that Jew, of course. Mr. Merl, he calls himself.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+A faint groan was all Martin's reply, as he turned away to hide his face.
+</p>
+<p>
+Scanlan watched him for a minute or so, and then resumed: &ldquo;I guessed at
+once what he was at; <i>he</i> never deceived me, talking about snipe and
+woodcocks, and pretending to care about hare-hunting. I saw my man at a
+glance. 'It's not sporting ever brought you down to these parts,' said I.
+'<i>Your</i> game is young fellows, hard up for cash, willing to give up
+their birthright for a few thousands down, and never giving a second
+thought whether they paid twenty per cent, or a hundred and twenty.' Well,
+well, Captain, you ought to have told me all about it. There wasn't a man
+in Ireland could have putted you through like myself.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;How do you mean?&rdquo; cried Martin, hurriedly.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Sure, when he was down in the West, what was easier? Faix, if I had only
+had the wind of a word that matters were so bad, I 'd have had the papers
+out of him long ago. You shake your head as if you did n't believe me; but
+take my word for it, I 'm right, sir. I 'd put a quarrel on him.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;<i>He'd</i> not fight you!&rdquo; said Martin, turning away in disappointment.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Maybe he wouldn't; but mightn't he be robbed? Couldn't he be waylaid, and
+carried off to the Islands? There was no need to kill him. Intimidation
+would do it all! I'd lay my head upon a block this minute if I would n't
+send him back to London without the back of a letter in his company; and
+what's more, a pledge that he 'd never tell what's happened to him!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;These cockney gents are more 'wide awake' than you suspect, Master
+Maurice, and the chances are that he never carried a single paper or
+parchment along with him.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Worse for him, then,&rdquo; said Scanlan. &ldquo;He'd have to pass the rest of his
+days in the Arran Islands. But I'm not so sure he's as 'cute as you think
+him,&rdquo; added Maurice, after a pause. &ldquo;He left a little note-book once
+behind him that told some strange stories, by all accounts.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;What was that you speak of?&rdquo; cried Martin, eagerly.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I did n't see it myself, but Simmy Crow told me of it; and that it was
+full of all the fellows he ruined,&mdash;how much he won from this man,
+what he carried off from that; and, moreover, there was your own name, and
+the date of the very evening that he finished you off! It was something in
+this wise: 'This night's work makes me an estated gentleman, <i>vice</i>
+Harry Martin, Esquire, retired upon less than half-pay!'&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+A terrible oath, uttered in all the vehemence of a malediction, burst from
+Martin, and seizing Scanlan's wrist, he shook his arm in an agony of
+passion.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I wish I had given you a hint about him, Master Scanlan,&rdquo; said he,
+savagely.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;It's too late to think of it now, Captain,&rdquo; said the other; &ldquo;the fellow
+is in Baden.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Here?&rdquo; asked Martin.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Ay. He came up the Rhine along with me; but he never recognized me,&mdash;on
+account of my moustaches perhaps,&mdash;he took me for a Frenchman or a
+German, I think. We parted at Mayence, and I saw no more of him.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I would that I was to see no more of him!&rdquo; said Martin, gloomily, as he
+walked into another room, banging the door heavily behind him.
+</p>
+<p>
+<a name="link2HCH0022" id="link2HCH0022">
+<!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+</p>
+<div style="height: 4em;">
+<br /><br /><br /><br />
+</div>
+<h2>
+CHAPTER XXII. HOW PRIDE MEETS PRIDE
+</h2>
+<p>
+Kate Henderson sat alone in her room reading a letter from her father, her
+thoughtful brow a shade more serious perhaps than its wont, and at times a
+faint, half-sickly smile moving her dimpled cheek. The interests of our
+story have no concern with that letter, save passingly, nor do we regret
+it. Enough, if we say it was in reply to one of her own, requesting
+permission to return home, until, as she phrased it, she could &ldquo;obtain
+another service.&rdquo; That the request had met scant favor was easy to see,
+as, folding up the letter, she laid it down beside her with a sigh and a
+muttered &ldquo;I thought as much!&mdash;'So long as her Ladyship is pleased to
+accept of your services,'&rdquo; said she, repeating aloud an expression of the
+writer. &ldquo;Well, I suppose he's right; such is the true reading of the
+compact, as it is of every compact where there is wealth on one side,
+dependence on the other! Nor should I complain,&rdquo; said she, still more
+resolutely, &ldquo;if these same services could be rendered toilfully, but
+costing nothing of self-sacrifice in honorable feeling. I could be a
+drudge&mdash;a slave&mdash;to-morrow; I could stoop to any labor; but I
+cannot&mdash;no, I cannot&mdash;descend to companionship! They who hire
+us,&rdquo; cried she, rising, and pacing the room in slow and measured tread,
+&ldquo;have a right to our capacity. We are here to do their bidding; but they
+can lay no claim to that over which we ourselves have no control&mdash;our
+sympathies, our affections&mdash;we cannot sell these; we cannot always
+give them, even as a gift.&rdquo; She paused, and opening the letter, read it
+for some seconds, and then flinging it down with a haughty gesture, said,
+&ldquo;'Nothing menial&mdash;nothing to complain of in my station!' Can he not
+see that there is no such servitude as that which drags out existence, by
+subjecting, not head and hands, but heart and soul, to the dictates of
+another? The menial&mdash;the menial has the best of it. Some stipulate
+that they are not to wear a livery; but what livery exacts such
+degradation as this?&rdquo; And she shook the rich folds of her heavy silk dress
+as she spoke. The tears rose up and dimmed her eyes, but they were tears
+of offended pride, and as they stole slowly along her cheeks, her features
+acquired an expression of intense haughtiness. &ldquo;They who train their
+children to this career are but sorry calculators!&mdash;educating them
+but to feel the bitter smart of their station, to see more clearly the
+wide gulf that separates them from what they live amongst!&rdquo; said she, in a
+voice of deep emotion.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Her Ladyship, Miss Henderson,&rdquo; said a servant, throwing wide the door,
+and closing it after the entrance of Lady Dorothea, who swept into the
+room in her haughtiest of moods, and seated herself with all that
+preparation that betokened a visit of importance.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Take a seat, Miss Henderson,&rdquo; said she. And Kate obeyed in silence. &ldquo;If
+in the course of what I shall have to say to you,&rdquo; resumed her Ladyship,&mdash;&ldquo;if
+in what I shall feel it my <i>duty</i> to say to you, I may be betrayed
+into any expression stronger than in a calmer moment would occur to me,&mdash;stronger
+in fact, than strict justice might warrant&mdash;&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I beg your Ladyship's pardon if I interrupt, but I would beg to remark&mdash;&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;What?&rdquo; said Lady Dorothea, proudly.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;That simply your Ladyship's present caution is the best security for
+future propriety. I ask no other.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You presume too far, young lady. I cannot answer that <i>my</i> temper
+may not reveal sentiments that my judgment or my breeding might prefer to
+keep in abeyance.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;If the sentiments be there, my Lady, I should certainly say, better to
+avow them,&rdquo; said Kate, with an air of most impassive coldness.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I 'm not aware that I have asked your advice on that head, Miss
+Henderson,&rdquo; said she, almost insolently. &ldquo;At the same time, your habits of
+late in this family may have suggested the delusion.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Will your Ladyship pardon me if I confess I do not understand you?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You shall have little to complain of on that score, Miss Henderson; I
+shall not speak in riddles, depend upon it. Nor should that be an obstacle
+if your intelligence were only the equal of your ambition.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Now, indeed, is your Ladyship completely beyond me.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Had you felt that I was as much 'above' you, Miss Henderson, it were more
+to the purpose.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I sincerely hope that I have never forgotten all the deference I owe your
+Ladyship,&rdquo; said Kate. Nor could humble words have taken a more humble
+accent; and yet they availed little to conciliate her to whom they were
+addressed; nay, this very humility seemed to irritate and provoke her to a
+greater show of temper, as with an insolent laugh she said,&mdash;&ldquo;This
+mockery of respect never imposed on we, young lady. I have been bred and
+born in a rank where real deference is so invariable that the fictitious
+article is soon detected, had there been any hardy enough to attempt it.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Kate made no other answer to this speech than a deep inclination of her
+head. It might mean assent, submission, anything.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You may remember, Miss Henderson,&rdquo; said her Ladyship, with all the
+formality of a charge in her manner,&mdash;&ldquo;you may remember that on the
+day I engaged your services you were obliging enough to furnish me with a
+brief summary of your acquirements.&rdquo; She paused, as if expecting some
+intimation of assent, and after an interval of a few seconds, Kate smiled,
+and said,&mdash;&ldquo;It must have been a very meagre catalogue, my Lady.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Quite the reverse. It was a perfect marvel to me how you ever found time
+to store your mind with such varied information; and yet, notwithstanding
+that imposing array of accomplishments, I now find that your modesty&mdash;perhaps
+out of deference to my ignorance&mdash;withheld fully as many more.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Kate's look of bewilderment at this speech was the only reply she made.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Oh, of course you do not understand me,&rdquo; said Lady Dorothea, sneeringly;
+&ldquo;but I mean to be most explicit. Have you any recollection of the
+circumstance I allude to?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I remember perfectly the day, madam, I waited on you for the first time.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;That's exactly what I mean. Now, pray, has any portion of our discourse
+dwelt upon your mind?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yes, my Lady; a remark of your Ladyship's made a considerable impression
+upon me at the moment, and has continued frequently to rise to my
+recollection since that.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;May I ask what it was?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;It was with reference to the treatment I had been so long accustomed to
+in the family of the Duchesse de Luygnes, and which your Ladyship
+characterized by an epithet I have never forgotten. At the time I thought
+it severe; I have learned to see it just. You called it an 'irreparable
+mischief.' Your Ladyship said most truly.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I was never more convinced of the fact than at this very moment,&rdquo; said
+Lady Dorothea, as a flush of anger covered her cheek. &ldquo;The ill-judging
+condescension of your first protectors has left a very troublesome legacy
+for their successors. Your youth and inexperience&mdash;I do not desire to
+attribute it to anything more reprehensible&mdash;led you, probably, into
+an error regarding the privileges you thus enjoyed, and you fancied that
+you owed to your own claims what you were entirely indebted to from the
+favor of others.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I have no doubt that the observation of your Ladyship is quite correct,&rdquo;
+ said Kate, calmly.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I sincerely wish that the conviction had impressed itself upon your
+conduct then,&rdquo; said Lady Dorothea, whose temper was never so outraged as
+by the other's self-possession. &ldquo;Had such been the case, I might have
+spared myself the unpleasantness of my present task.&rdquo; Her passion was now
+fully roused, and with redoubled energy she continued: &ldquo;Your ambition has
+taken a high flight, young lady, and, from the condescension by which I
+accorded you a certain degree of influence in this family, you have
+aspired to become its head. Do not affect any misconception of my meaning.
+My son has told me everything&mdash;everything&mdash;from your invaluable
+aid to him in his pecuniary difficulties, to your sage counsels on his
+betting-book; from the admirable advice you gave him as to his studies, to
+the disinterested offer of your own tuition. Be assured if <i>he</i> has
+not understood all the advantages so generously presented to him, I, at
+least, appreciate them fully. I must acknowledge you have played your game
+cleverly, and you have made the mock independence of your character the
+mask of your designs. With another than myself you might have succeeded,
+too,&rdquo; said her Ladyship, with a smile of bitter irony; &ldquo;but <i>I</i> have
+few self-delusions, Miss Henderson, nor is there amongst the number that
+of believing that any one serves me, in any capacity, from any devotion to
+my own person. I natter myself, at least, that I have so much of
+humility.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;If I understand your Ladyship aright, I am charged with some designs on
+Captain Martin?&rdquo; said Kate, calmly.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yes; precisely so,&rdquo; said Lady Dorothea, haughtily.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I can only protest that I am innocent of all such, my Lady,&rdquo; said she,
+with an expression of great deference. &ldquo;It is a charge that does not admit
+of any other refutation, since, if I appeal to my conduct, your Ladyship's
+suspicions would not exculpate me.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Certainly not.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I thought so. What, then, can I adduce? I'm sure your Ladyship's own
+delicacy will see that this is not a case where testimony can be invoked.
+I cannot&mdash;you would not ask me to&mdash;require an acquittal from the
+lips of Captain Martin himself; humble as I stand here, my Lady, you never
+could mean to expose me to this humiliation.&rdquo; For the first time did her
+voice falter, and a sickly paleness came over her as she uttered the last
+words.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;The humiliation which you had intended for this family, Miss Henderson,
+is alone what demands consideration from <i>me</i>. If what you call your
+exculpation requires Captain Martin's presence, I confess I see no
+objection to it.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;It is only, then, because your Ladyship is angry with me that you could
+bring yourself to think so, especially since another and much easier
+solution of the difficulty offers itself.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;How so? What do you mean?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;To send me home, madam.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I understand you, young lady. I am to send you back to your father's
+house as one whose presence here was too dangerous, whose attractions
+could only be resisted by means of absence and distance. A very
+interesting martyrdom might have been made of it, I 've no doubt, and even
+some speculation as to the conduct of a young gentleman so suddenly
+bereaved of the object of his affections. But all this is much too
+dignified for me. <i>My</i> son shall be taught to respect himself without
+the intervention of any contrivance.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+<a name="linkimage-0011" id="linkimage-0011">
+<!-- IMG --></a>
+</p>
+<div class="fig" style="width:80%;">
+<img src="images/256.jpg" width="100%" alt="256 " />
+</div>
+<p>
+As she uttered the last words, she arose and approached the bell.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Your Ladyship surely is not going&mdash;&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I am going to send for Captain Martin, Miss Henderson.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Do not, I entreat of you,&mdash;I implore your Ladyship,&rdquo; cried Kate,
+with her clasped hands trembling as she spoke.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;This agitation is not without a cause, and would alone decide me to call
+for my son.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;If I have ever deserved well at your hands, my Lady,&mdash;if I have
+served you faithfully in anything,&mdash;if my devotion has lightened you
+of one care, or aided you through one difficulty,&mdash;spare me, oh,
+spare me, I beseech you, this&mdash;degradation!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I have a higher consideration to consult here, Miss Henderson, than any
+which can have reference to you.&rdquo; She pulled the bell violently, and while
+her hand still held the cord, the servant entered. &ldquo;Tell Captain Martin to
+come here,&rdquo; said she, and sat down.
+</p>
+<p>
+Kate leaned her arm upon the chimney-piece, and, resting her head on it,
+never uttered a word.
+</p>
+<p>
+For several minutes the silence was unbroken on either side. At last Lady
+Dorothea started suddenly, and said,&mdash;&ldquo;We cannot receive Captain
+Martin here.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Your Ladyship is full of consideration,&rdquo; said Kate, bitterly. &ldquo;For a
+moment I had thought it was only an additional humiliation to which you
+had destined me.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Follow me into the drawing-room, Miss Henderson,&rdquo; said Lady Dorothea,
+proudly, as she left the room. And with slow, submissive mien Kate quitted
+the chamber, and walked after her.
+</p>
+<p>
+Scarcely had the door of the drawing-room been closed upon them than it
+was re-opened to admit Captain Martin. He was booted and spurred for his
+afternoon canter, and seemed in no wise pleased at the sudden interruption
+to his project.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;They said you wanted me,&rdquo; cried he; &ldquo;and here have I been searching for
+you in your dressing-room, and all over the house.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I desire to speak with you,&rdquo; said she, proudly; and she motioned to a
+chair.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I trust the <i>séance</i> is to be a brief one, otherwise I 'll beg a
+postponement,&rdquo; said he, half laughingly. Then turning his glance towards
+Kate, he remarked for the first time the deathlike color of her face, and
+an expression of repressed suffering that all her self-control could not
+conceal. &ldquo;Has anything happened? What is it?&rdquo; said he, in a half-whisper.
+</p>
+<p>
+But she never replied, nor even seemed to heed his question.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Tell me, I beseech you,&rdquo; cried he, turning to Lady Dorothea,&mdash;&ldquo;tell
+me, has anything gone wrong?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;It is precisely on that account I have sent for you, Captain Martin,&rdquo;
+ said her Ladyship, as she assigned to him a seat with a motion of her
+hand. &ldquo;It is because a great deal has gone wrong here&mdash;and were it
+not for my vigilance, much more still likely to follow it&mdash;I have
+sent for you, sir, that you should hear from this young lady's lips a
+denial which, I own, has not satisfied <i>me</i>; nor shall it, till it be
+made in your presence and meet with your corroboration. Your looks, Miss
+Henderson,&rdquo; said she, addressing her, &ldquo;would imply that all the suffering
+of the present moment falls to <i>your</i> share; but I would beg you to
+bear in mind what a person in <i>my</i> sphere must endure at the bare
+possibility of the event which now demands investigation.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Good heavens! will not you tell me what it is?&rdquo; exclaimed Martin, in the
+last extremity of impatience.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I have sent for you, sir,&rdquo; resumed she, &ldquo;that you should hear Miss
+Henderson declare that no attentions on your part&mdash;no assiduities, I
+should perhaps call them&mdash;have ever been addressed to her; that, in
+fact&rdquo;&mdash;here her Ladyship became embarrassed in her explanation,&mdash;&ldquo;that,
+in fact, those counsels&mdash;those very admirable aids to your conduct
+which she on so many occasions has vouchsafed to afford you&mdash;have had
+no object&mdash;no ulterior object, I should perhaps call it&mdash;and
+that your&mdash;your intercourse has ever been such as beseems the heir of
+Cro' Martin, and the daughter of the steward on that property!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;By Jove, I can make nothing of all this!&rdquo; cried the Captain, whose
+bewildered looks fully corroborated the assertion.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Lady Dorothea, sir, requires you to assure her that I have never made
+love to you,&rdquo; said Kate Henderson, with a look of scorn that her Ladyship
+did not dare to reply to. &ldquo;<i>I</i>,&rdquo; added she, &ldquo;have already given my
+pledge on this subject. I trust that your testimony will not gainsay me.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Confound me if I can fathom it at all!&rdquo; said he, more distracted than
+ever. &ldquo;If you are alluding to the offer I made you&mdash;&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;The offer you made,&rdquo; cried Lady Dorothea. &ldquo;When?&mdash;how?&mdash;in what
+wise?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;No, no, I will speak out,&rdquo; said he, addressing Kate. &ldquo;I am certain <i>you</i>
+never divulged it; but I cannot accept that all the honorable dealing
+should be on one side only. Yes, my Lady, however you learned it, I cannot
+guess, but it is perfectly true; I asked Miss Henderson to be my wife, and
+she refused me.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+A low, faint sigh broke from Lady Dorothea, and she fell back into her
+chair.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;She would have it,&mdash;it's not my fault,&mdash;you are witness it's
+not,&rdquo; muttered he to Kate. But she motioned him in silence to the door,
+and then opening the window, that the fresh air might enter, stood
+silently beside the chair.
+</p>
+<p>
+A slight shivering shook her; and Lady Dorothea&mdash;her cheeks almost
+lividly pale&mdash;raised her eyes and fixed them on Kate Henderson.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You have had your triumph!&rdquo; said she, in a low but firm voice.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I do not feel it such, madam,&rdquo; said Kate, calmly. &ldquo;Nor is it in a moment
+of humiliation like this that a thought of triumph can enter.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Hear me,&mdash;stoop down lower. You can leave this&mdash;tomorrow, if
+you wish it.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Kate bowed slowly in acquiescence.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I have no need to ask you that what has occurred here should never be
+mentioned.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You may trust me, madam.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I feel that I may. There&mdash;I am better&mdash;quite well, now! You may
+leave me.&rdquo; Kate courtesied deeply, and moved towards the door. &ldquo;One word
+before you go. Will you answer me one question? I'll ask but one; but your
+answer must be full, or not at all.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;So it shall be, madam. What is it?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I want to know the reason&mdash;on what grounds&mdash;you declined the
+proposal of my son?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;For the same good reason, madam, that should have prevented his ever
+making it.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Disparity&mdash;inequality of station, you mean?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Something like it, madam. Our union would have been both a blunder and a
+paradox. Each would have married beneath him!&rdquo; And once more courtesying,
+and with an air of haughty dignity, Kate withdrew, and left her Ladyship
+to her own thoughts.
+</p>
+<p>
+Strange and conflicting were the same thoughts; at one moment stimulating
+her to projects of passionate vengeance, at the next suggesting the
+warmest measures of reconciliation and affection. These indeed
+predominated, for in her heart pride seemed the emblem of all that was
+great, noble, or exalted; and when she saw that sentiment, not fostered by
+the accidents of fortune, not associated with birth, lineage, and high
+station, but actually rising superior to the absence of all these, she
+almost felt a species of worship for one so gloriously endowed.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;She might be a duchess!&rdquo; was the only speech she uttered, and the words
+revealed a whole volume of her meditations. It was curious enough how
+completely all recollection of her son was merged and lost in the greater
+interest Kate's character supplied. But so is it frequently in life. The
+traits which most resemble our own are those we alone attach importance
+to, and what we fancy admiration of another is very often nothing more
+than the gratified contemplation of ourselves.
+</p>
+<p>
+<a name="link2HCH0023" id="link2HCH0023">
+<!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+</p>
+<div style="height: 4em;">
+<br /><br /><br /><br />
+</div>
+<h2>
+CHAPTER XXIII. MAURICE SCANLAN ADVISES WITH &ldquo;HIS COUNSEL&rdquo;
+ </h2>
+<p>
+Jack Massingbred sat in expectation of Mr. Merl's arrival till nigh ten
+o'clock; and if not manifesting any great degree of impatience at the
+delay, still showing unmistakable signs of uneasiness, as though the event
+were not destitute of some cause for anxiety. At last a note arrived to
+say that a sudden and imperative necessity to start at once for England
+would prevent Mr. Merl from keeping his appointment. &ldquo;I shall be in town
+by Tuesday,&rdquo; continued the writer, &ldquo;and if Captain Martin has any
+communication to make to me respecting his affairs, let it be addressed to
+Messrs. Twining and Scape's, solicitors, Furnival's Inn. I hope that with
+regard to your own matter, you will make suitable provision for the
+acceptance due on the ninth of next month. Any further renewal would prove
+a great inconvenience to yours
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Very sincerely and to command,
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Herman Merl.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Negotiations have ended ere they were opened, and war is proclaimed at
+once,&rdquo; said Massingbred, as he read over this brief epistle. &ldquo;You may come
+forth, Master Scanlan,&rdquo; added he, opening the door of his bedroom, and
+admitting that gentleman. &ldquo;Our Hebrew is an overmatch for us. He declines
+to appear.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Why so? How is that?&rdquo; asked Scanlan.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;There 's his note,&rdquo; said the other; &ldquo;read and digest it.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;This smacks of suspicion,&rdquo; said Scanlan. &ldquo;He evidently suspects that we
+have concerted some scheme to entangle him, and he is resolved not to be
+caught.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Precisely; he 'll do nothing without advice. Well, well, if he but knew
+how unprepared we are, how utterly deficient not only in resources, but
+actually in the commonest information of our subject, he might have
+ventured here in all safety.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Has Captain Martin not put you in possession of the whole case, then?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Why, my good Scanlan, the Captain knows nothing, actually nothing, of his
+difficulties. He has, it is true, a perfect conviction that he is out of
+his depth; but whether he be in five fathom water or fifty, he doesn't
+know; and, what 's stranger, he does n't care!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;After all, if it be over his head, I suppose it's pretty much the same
+thing,&rdquo; said Scanlan, with a bitter laugh.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I beg to offer my dissent to that doctrine,&rdquo; said Mas-singbred, gently.
+&ldquo;Where the water is only just out of a man's depth, the shore is usually
+not very distant. Now, if we were quite certain such were the case here,
+we might hope to save him. If, on the contrary, he has gone down out of
+all sight of land&mdash;&rdquo; He stopped, gazed steadily at Scanlan for a few
+seconds, and then in a lower tone, not devoid of a touch of anxiety, said,
+&ldquo;Eh, do you really know this to be so?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I'll tell you all I know, Mr. Massingbred,&rdquo; said he, as having turned the
+key in the door, he took his seat at the table. &ldquo;And I 'll tell you,
+besides, how I came by the knowledge, and I 'll leave it to your own
+judgment to say what his chance is worth. When Merl was stopping at
+Kilkieran, he left there a little pocket-book, with memorandums of all his
+secret transactions. Mighty nice doings they were,&mdash;and profitable,
+too,&mdash;as you 'll perceive when you look over it.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You have it, then,&rdquo; cried Jack, eagerly.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Here it is,&rdquo; said he, producing the precious volume, and laying his hand
+firmly on it. &ldquo;Here it is now. I got it under a pledge to hand it to
+himself, which I need n't tell you I never had the slightest intention of
+performing. It's not every day in the week one has the good luck to get a
+peep into the enemy's brief, and this is exactly what you 'll find here.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Massingbred stretched out his hand to take the book, but Scanlan quietly
+replaced it in his pocket, and, with a dry and very peculiar smile, said,&mdash;&ldquo;Have
+a little patience, sir. We must go regularly to work here. You shall see
+this book&mdash;you shall examine it&mdash;and even retain it&mdash;but it
+must be on conditions.&rdquo; &ldquo;Oh, you may confide in me, Scanlan. Even if Mr.
+Merl were my friend,&mdash;which I assure you he is not,&mdash;I could not
+venture to betray <i>you</i>.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;That's not exactly what I 'm thinking of, Mr. Massingbred. I 'm certain
+you 'd say nothing to Merl of what you saw here. My mind is easy enough
+upon that score.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Well, then, in what direction do your suspicions point?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;They 're not suspicions, sir,&rdquo; was the dry response.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Fears,&mdash;hesitations,&mdash;whatever you like to call them.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Are we on honor here, Mr. Massingbred?&rdquo; said Scanlan, after a pause.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;For myself, I say decidedly so,&rdquo; was the firm reply.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;That will do, sir. I ask only one pledge, and I 'm sure you 'll not
+refuse it: if you should think, on reflection, that what I propose to you
+this evening is neither practicable nor advisable,&mdash;that, in fact,
+you could neither concur in it nor aid it,&mdash;that you'll never, so
+long as you live, divulge it to any one,&mdash;man, woman, or child. Have
+I that promise?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I think I may safely say that.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Ay, but do you say it?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I do; here is my promise.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;That will do. I don't ask a word more. Now, Mr. Massingbred,&rdquo; said he,
+replacing the book on the table, &ldquo;I 'll tell you in the fewest words I can
+how the case stands,&mdash;and brevity is essential, for we have not an
+hour to lose. Merl is gone to London about this business, and we 'll have
+to follow him. <i>He 'd</i> be very glad to be rid of the affair
+to-morrow, and he 'll not waste many days till he is so. Read that bit
+there, sir,&rdquo; said he, pointing to a few closely written lines in the
+note-book.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Good heavens!&rdquo; cried Jack, &ldquo;this is downright impossible. This is a vile
+falsehood, devised for some infernal scheme of roguery. Who 'd believe
+such a trumpery piece of imposition? Ah, Scanlan, you are not the wily
+fellow I took you for. This same precious note-book was dropped as a
+decoy, as I once knew a certain noble lord to have left his betting-book
+behind him. An artful device, that can only succeed once, however. And you
+really believed all this?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I did, and I do believe it,&rdquo; said Scanlan, firmly.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;If you really say so, we must put the matter to the test. Captain Martin
+is here,&mdash;we 'll send for him, and ask him the question; but I must
+say I don't think your position will be a pleasant one after that reply is
+given.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I must remind you of your promise already, it seems,&rdquo; said Scanlan. &ldquo;You
+are pledged to say nothing of this, if you cannot persuade yourself to act
+along with me in it.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Very true,&rdquo; said Massingbred, slowly; &ldquo;but I never pledged myself to
+credit an impossibility.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I ask nothing of the kind. I only claim that you should adhere to what
+you have said already. If this statement be untrue, all my speculations
+about it fall to the ground at once. I am the dupe of a stale trick, and
+there's an end of it.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Ay, so far all well, Master Scanlan; but <i>I</i> have no fancy to be
+associated in the deception. Can't you see that?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I can, sir, and I do. But perhaps there may be a readier way of
+satisfying your doubts than calling for the Captain's evidence. There is a
+little page in this same volume devoted to one Mr. Massingbred. <i>You</i>
+surely may have some knowledge about <i>his</i> affairs. Throw your eye
+over that, sir, and say what you think of it.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Massingbred took the book in his hand and perused the place pointed out to
+him.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;By Jove! this <i>is</i> very strange,&rdquo; said he, after a pause. &ldquo;Here is
+my betting-book on the St. Hubert all transcribed in full,&mdash;however
+the Jew boy got hold of it; and here 's mention of a blessed hundred-pound
+note, which, in less than five years, has grown to upwards of a thousand!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And all true? All fact?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Perfectly true,&mdash;most lamentable fact, Master Scanlan! How precise
+the scoundrel is in recording this loan as 'after supper at Dubos'!' Ay,
+and here again is my unlucky wager about Martingale for the 'Chester,' and
+the handicap with Armytage. Scanlan, I recant my rash impression. This is
+a real work of its great author! <i>Aut Merl&mdash;aut Diabolus</i>.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I could have sworn it,&rdquo; said Scanlan.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;To be sure you could, man, and have done, ere this time o' day, fifty
+other things on fainter evidence. But let me tell you it requires strong
+testimony to make one believe that there should live such a consummate
+fool in the world as would sell his whole reversionary right to a splendid
+state of some twelve thousand&mdash;&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Fifteen at the lowest,&rdquo; broke in Scanlan.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Worse again. Fifteen thousand a year for twenty-two thousand seven
+hundred and sixty-four pounds sterling.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And he has done it.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;No, no; the thing is utterly incredible, man. Any one must see that if he
+did want to make away with his inheritance, that he could have obtained
+ten, twenty times that sum amongst the tribe of Merl.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;No doubt, if he were free to negotiate the transaction. But you 'll see,
+on looking over these pages, in what a network of debt he was involved,&mdash;how,
+as early as four years ago, at the Cape, he owed Merl large sums, lost at
+play, and borrowed at heavy interest. So that, at length, this same
+twenty-two thousand, assumed as paid for the reversion, was in reality but
+the balance of an immense demand for money lost, bills renewed, sums lent,
+debts discharged, and so on. But to avoid the legal difficulty of an
+'immoral obligation,' the bale of the reversion is limited to this simple
+payment of twenty-two thousand&mdash;&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Seven hundred and sixty-four pounds, sir. Don't let us diminish the price
+by a fraction,&rdquo; said Massingbred. &ldquo;Wonderful people ye are, to be sure;
+and whether in your talent for savings, or dislike for sausages, alike
+admirable and praiseworthy! What a strange circle do events observe, and
+how irrevocable is the law of the material, the stern rule of the moral
+world, decay, decomposition, and regeneration following on each other; and
+as great men's ashes beget grubs, so do illustrious houses generate in
+their rottenness the race of Herman Merls.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Scanlan tried to smile at the rhapsodical conceit, but for some private
+reason of his own he did not relish nor enjoy it.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;So, then, according to the record,&rdquo; said Massingbred, holding up the
+book, &ldquo;there is an end of the 'Martins of Cro' Martin'?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;That's it, sir, in one word.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;It is too shocking&mdash;too horrible to believe,&rdquo; said Mas-singbred,
+with more of sincerity than his manner usually displayed. &ldquo;Eh, Scanlan,&mdash;is
+it not so?&rdquo; added he, as waiting in vain for some show of concurrence.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I believe, however,&rdquo; said the other, &ldquo;it's the history of every great
+family's downfall: small liabilities growing in secrecy to become heavy
+charges, severe pressure exerted by those out of whose pockets came
+eventually the loans to meet the difficulties,&mdash;shrewdness and
+rapacity on one side, folly and wastefulness on the other.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Ay, ay; but who ever heard of a whole estate disposed of for less than
+two years of its rental?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;That's exactly the case, sir,&rdquo; said he, in the same calm tone as before;
+&ldquo;and what makes matters worse, we have little time to look out for
+expedients. Magennis will put us on our title at the new trial next
+assizes. Merl will take fright at the insecurity of his claim, and dispose
+of it,&mdash;Heaven knows to whom,&mdash;perhaps to that very league now
+formed to raise litigation against all the old tenures.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Stop, stop, Scanlan! There is quite enough difficulty before us, without
+conjuring up new complications,&rdquo; cried Massingbred. &ldquo;Have you anything to
+suggest? What ought to be done here?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Scanlan was silent, and leaning his head on his hand seemed lost in
+thought.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Come, Scanlan, you 've thought over all this ere now. Tell me, man, what
+do you advise?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Scanlan was silent.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Out with it, Scanlan. I know, I feel that you have a resource in store
+against all these perils! Out with it, man.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Have I any need to remind you of your promise, Mr. Massingbred?&rdquo; asked
+the other, stealthily.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Not the slightest, Scanlan. I never forget a pledge.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Very well, sir; that's enough,&rdquo; said Scanlan, speaking rapidly, and like
+one anxious to overcome his confusion by an effort. &ldquo;We have just one
+thing to do. We must buy out Merl. Of course as reasonably as we can, but
+buy him out we must. What between his own short experiences of Ireland,
+and the exposure that any litigation is sure to bring with it, he's not
+likely to be hard to deal with, particularly when we are in possession, as
+I suppose we may be, through <i>your</i> intimacy with the Captain, of all
+the secret history of these transactions. I take it for granted that he
+'ll be as glad of a settlement that keeps all 'snug,' as ourselves. Less
+than the twenty-two thousand we can't expect he'll take.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And how are we to raise that sum without Mr. Martin's concurrence?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I wish that was the only difficulty,&rdquo; said Scanlan.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;What do you mean?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Just this: that in his present state no act of his would stand. Sure his
+mind is gone. There isn't a servant about him could n't swear to his
+fancies and imaginations. No, sir, the whole thing must be done amongst
+ourselves. I have eight thousand some hundred pounds of my own available
+at a moment; old Nelligan would readily&mdash;for an assignment of the
+Brewery and the Market Square&mdash;advance us ten thousand more;&mdash;the
+money, in short, could be had&mdash;more if we wanted it&mdash;the
+question&mdash;&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;As to the dealing with Merl?&rdquo; broke in Jack.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;No, sir, not that, though of course it is a most important
+consideration.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Well, what then?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;As to the dealing with Maurice Scanlan, sir,&rdquo; said he, making a great
+effort. &ldquo;There's the whole question in one word.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I don't see that there can be any grave obstacle against that. You know
+the property.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Every acre of it.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You know how you'd like your advance to be secured to you&mdash;on what
+part of the estate. The conditions, I am certain, might be fairly left in
+your own hands; I feel assured you'd not ask nor expect anything beyond
+what was equitable and just.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Mr. Massingbred, we might talk this way a twelvemonth, and never be a bit
+nearer our object than when we began,&rdquo; said Scanlan, resolutely. &ldquo;I want
+two things, and I won't take less than the two together. One is to be
+secured in the agency of the estate, under nobody's control whatever but
+the Martins themselves. No Mister Repton to say 'Do this, sign that, seal
+the other.' I 'll have nobody over me but him that owns the property.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Well, and the other condition?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;The other&mdash;the other&mdash;&rdquo; said Scanlan, growing very red&mdash;&ldquo;the
+other, I suppose, will be made the great difficulty&mdash;at least, on my
+Lady's side. She 'll be bristling up about her uncle the Marquis, and her
+half-cousin the Duke, and she'll be throwing in my teeth who I am, and
+what I was, and all the rest of it, forgetting all the while where they
+'ll be if they reject my terms, and how much the most noble Viceroy will
+do for her when she has n't a roof over her head, and how many letters his
+Grace will write when she has n't a place to address them to,&mdash;not to
+say that the way they're treating the girl at this very moment shows how
+much they think of her as one of themselves, living with old Catty Broon,
+and cantering over the country without as much as a boy after her. Sure,
+if they were n't Pride itself, it's glad they might be that a&mdash;a&mdash;a
+respectable man, that is sure to be devoted to their own interests
+forever, and one that knows the estate well, and, moreover than that, that
+doesn't want to be going over to London,&mdash;no, nor even to Dublin,&mdash;that
+doesn't care a brass farthing for the castle and the lodge in the park,&mdash;that,
+in short, Mr. Massingbred, asks nothing for anybody, but is willing to
+trust to his industry and what he knows of life&mdash;There it is now,&mdash;there's
+my whole case,&rdquo; said he, stammering, and growing more and more
+embarrassed. &ldquo;I haven't a word to add to it, except this: that if they'd
+rather be ruined entirely, left without stick or stone, roof or rafter in
+the world, than take my offer, they 've nothing to blame but themselves
+and their own infernal pride!&rdquo; And with this peroration, to deliver which
+cost him an effort like a small apoplexy, Maurice Scanlan sat down at the
+table, and crossed his arms on his breast like one prepared to await his
+verdict with a stout heart.
+</p>
+<p>
+At last, and with the start of one who &ldquo;suddenly bethought him of a
+precaution that ought not to be neglected,&rdquo; he said,&mdash;&ldquo;Of course,
+this is so far all between ourselves, for if I was to go up straight to my
+Lady, and say, 'I want to marry your niece,' I think I know what the
+answer would be.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Although Massingbred had followed this rambling and incoherent effort at
+explanation with considerable attention, it was only by the very
+concluding words that he was quite certain of having comprehended its
+meaning. If we acknowledge that he felt almost astounded by the
+pretension, it is but fair to add that nothing in his manner or air
+betokened this feeling. Nay, he even by a slight gesture of the head
+invited the other to continue; and when the very abrupt conclusion did
+ensue, he sat patiently, as it were revolving the question in his own
+mind.
+</p>
+<p>
+Had Scanlan been waiting for the few words which from a jury-box determine
+a man's fate forever, he could not have suffered more acute anxiety than
+he felt while contemplating the other's calm and unmoved countenance. A
+bold, open rejection of his plan, a defiant repudiation of his
+presumption, would not probably have pained him more, if as much as the
+impassive quietness of Jack's demeanor.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;If you think that this is a piece of impudence on my part, Mr.
+Massingbred,&mdash;if it's your opinion that in aspiring to be connected
+with the Martins I'm forgetting my place and my station, just say so at
+once. Tell it to me frankly, and I'll know how to bear it,&rdquo; said he, at
+last, when all further endurance had become impossible.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Nothing of the kind, my dear Scanlan,&rdquo; said Jack, smiling blandly.
+&ldquo;Whatever snobbery once used to prevail on these subjects, we have come to
+live in a more generous age. The man of character, the man who unites an
+untarnished reputation to very considerable abilities, with talent to win
+any station, and virtues to adorn it, such a man wants no blazonry to
+illustrate his name, and it is mainly by such accessions that our English
+aristocracy, refreshed and invigorated as it is, preserves its great
+acknowledged superiority.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+It would have required a more acute critic than Maurice Scanlan to have
+detected the spirit in which this rhapsody was uttered. The apparent
+earnestness of the manner did not exactly consort with a certain pomposity
+of enunciation and an over-exactness in the tone of the declamation. On
+the whole Maurice did not like it. It smacked to his ears very like what
+he had often listened to in the Four Courts at the close of a &ldquo;junior's&rdquo;
+ address; and there was a Nisi Prius jingle in it that sounded marvellously
+unlike conviction.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;If, then,&rdquo; resumed Massingbred, &ldquo;they who by the accidents of fortune, or
+the meritorious services of their forefathers, represent rather in their
+elevation the gratitude of their country than&mdash;&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I 'm sorry to interrupt you, sir,&mdash;indeed, I'm ashamed of myself for
+doing it,&mdash;for your remarks are beautiful, downright eloquent; but
+the truth is, this is a case touches me too closely to make me care for a
+grand speech about it. I 'd rather have just a few words&mdash;to the
+evidence, as one might say,&mdash;or a simple answer to a plain question,
+Can this thing be done?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;There's where you beat us, Scanlan. There's where we cannot approach you.
+You are practical. You reduce a matter at once to the simple dimension of
+efficacy first, then possibility, and with these two conditions before you
+you reject the fifty extraneous considerations, outlying contingencies,
+that distract and embarrass such fellows as me.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I have no pretension to abilities like yours, Mr. Massingbred,&rdquo; said
+Scanlan, with unassumed modesty.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Ah, Scanlan, yours are the true gifts, take my word for it!&mdash;the
+recognized currency by which a man obtains what he seeks for; and there
+never was an era in which such qualities bore a higher value. Our
+statesmen, our diplomatists, our essay-writers,&mdash;nay, our very poets,
+addressing themselves as they do to the correction of social wrongs and
+class inequalities,&mdash;they are all 'practical'! That is the type of
+our time, and future historians will talk of this as the 'Age of Fact'!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+If one were to judge from Maurice Scanlan's face during the delivery of
+this peroration, it might be possibly inferred that he scarcely accepted
+the speech as an illustration in point, since anything less practical he
+had never listened to.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;When I think,&rdquo; resumed he, &ldquo;what a different effect I should have
+produced in the 'House' had I possessed this requisite! You, possibly, may
+be under the impression that I achieved a great success?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Well, I did hear as much,&rdquo; said Scanlan, half doggedly.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Perhaps it was so. A first speech, you are aware, is always listened to
+indulgently; not so a second, especially if a man rises soon after his
+first effort. They begin to suspect they have got a talkative fellow,
+eager and ready to speak on every question; they dread that, and even if
+he be clever, they 'll vote him a bore!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Faith! I don't wonder at it!&rdquo; said Maurice, with a hearty sincerity in
+the tone.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yet, after all, Scanlan, let us be just! How in Heaven's name, are men to
+become debaters, except by this same training? You require men not alone
+to be strong upon the mass of questions that come up in debate, but you
+expect them to be prompt with their explanations, always prepared with
+their replies. Not ransacking history, or searching through 'Hansard,' you
+want a man who, at the spur of the moment, can rise to defend, to explain,
+to simplify, or mayhap to assail, to denounce, to annihilate. Is n't that
+true?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I don't want any such thing, sir!&rdquo; said Scanlan, with a sulky
+determination that there was no misunderstanding.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You don't. Well, what <i>do</i> you ask for?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I'll tell you, sir, and in very few words, too, what I do <i>not</i> ask
+for! I don't ask to be humbugged, listening to this, that, and the other,
+that I have nothing to say to; to hear how you failed or why you
+succeeded; what you did or what you could n't do. I put a plain case to
+you, and I wanted as plain an answer. And as to your flattering me about
+being practical, or whatever you call it, it's a clean waste of time,
+neither less nor more!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;The agency and the niece!&rdquo; said Massingbred, with a calm solemnity that
+this speech had never disconcerted.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Them 's the conditions!&rdquo; said Scanlan, reddening over face and forehead.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You 're a plucky fellow, Scanlan, and by Jove I like you for it!&rdquo; said
+Massingbred. And for once there was a hearty sincerity in the way he
+spoke. &ldquo;If a man <i>is</i> to have a fall, let it be at least over a
+'rasper,' not be thrown over a furrow in a ploughed field! You fly at high
+game, but I'm far from saying you'll not succeed.&rdquo; And with a jocular
+laugh he turned away and left him.
+</p>
+<p>
+<a name="link2HCH0024" id="link2HCH0024">
+<!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+</p>
+<div style="height: 4em;">
+<br /><br /><br /><br />
+</div>
+<h2>
+CHAPTER XXIV. A CONSULTATION
+</h2>
+<p>
+Jack Massingbred was one of those who, in questions of difficulty, resort
+to the pen in preference to personal interference. It was a fancy of his
+that he wrote better than he talked. Very probably he thought so because
+the contrary was the fact. On the present occasion another motive had also
+its influence. It was Lady Dorothea that he addressed, and he had no
+especial desire to commit himself to a direct interview.
+</p>
+<p>
+His object was to convey Mr. Scanlan's propositions,&mdash;to place them
+fully and intelligibly before her Ladyship without a syllable of comment
+on his own part, or one word which could be construed into advocacy or
+reprobation of them. In truth, had he been called upon for an opinion, it
+would have sorely puzzled him what to say. To rescue a large estate from
+ruin was, to be sure, a very considerable service, but to accept Maurice
+Scanlan as a near member of one's family seemed a very heavy price even
+for that. Still, if the young lady liked him, singular as the choice might
+appear, other objections need not be insurmountable. The Martins were very
+unlikely ever to make Ireland their residence again, they would see little
+or nothing of this same Scanlan connection, &ldquo;and, after all,&rdquo; thought
+Jack, &ldquo;if we can only keep the disagreeables of this life away from daily
+intercourse, only knowing them through the post-office and at rare
+intervals, the compact is not a bad one.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Massingbred would have liked much to consult Miss Henderson upon the
+question itself, and also upon his manner of treating it; but to touch
+upon the point of a marriage of inequality with her, would have been
+dangerous ground. It was scarcely possible he could introduce the topic
+without dropping a word, or letting fall a remark she could not seize hold
+of. It was the theme, of all others, in which her sensitiveness was
+extreme; nor could he exactly say whether she sneered at a <i>mésalliance,</i>
+or at the insolent tone of society regarding it.
+</p>
+<p>
+Again he bethought him of the ungraciousness of the task he had assumed,
+if, as was most probable, Lady Dorothea should feel Mr. Scanlan's
+pretensions an actual outrage. &ldquo;She'll never forgive me for stating them,
+that's certain,&rdquo; said he; &ldquo;but will she do so if I decline to declare
+them, or worse still, leave them to the vulgar interpretation Scanlan
+himself is sure to impart to them?&rdquo; While he thus hesitated and debated
+with himself, now altering a phrase here, now changing a word there,
+Captain Martin entered the room, and threw himself into a chair with a
+more than ordinary amount of weariness and exhaustion.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;The governor's worse to-day, Massingbred,&rdquo; said he, with a sigh.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;No serious change, I hope?&rdquo; said Jack.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I suspect there is, though,&rdquo; replied the other. &ldquo;They sent for me from
+Lescour's last night, where I was winning smartly. Just like <i>my</i>
+luck always, to be called away when I was 'in vein,' and when I got here,
+I found Schubart, and a French fellow whom I don't know, had just bled
+him. It must have been touch and go, for when I saw him he was very ill&mdash;very
+ill indeed&mdash;and they call him better.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;It was a distinct attack, then,&mdash;a seizure of some sort?&rdquo; asked
+Massingbred.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yes, I think they said so,&rdquo; said he, lighting his cigar.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;But he has rallied, has n't he?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Well, I don't fancy he has. He lifts his eyes at times, and seems to look
+about for some one, and moves his lips a little, but you could scarcely
+say that he was conscious, though my mother insists he is.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;What does Schubart think?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Who minds these fellows?&rdquo; said he, impatiently. &ldquo;They're only speculating
+on what will be said of themselves, and so they go on: 'If this does not
+occur, and the other does not happen, we shall see him better this
+evening.'&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;This is all very bad,&rdquo; said Massingbred, gloomily&mdash;&ldquo;It's a deuced
+deal worse than you know of, old fellow,&rdquo; said Martin, bitterly.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Perhaps not worse than I suspect,&rdquo; said Massingbred.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;What do you mean by that?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Massingbred did not reply, but sat deep in thought for some time. &ldquo;Come,
+Martin,&rdquo; said he, at last, &ldquo;let us be frank; in a few hours it may be,
+perhaps, too late for frankness. Is this true?&rdquo; And he handed to him
+Merl's pocket-book, open at a particular page.
+</p>
+<p>
+Martin took it, and as his eyes traced the lines a sickly paleness covered
+his features, and in a voice scarcely stronger than an infant's, he said,
+&ldquo;It is so.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;The whole reversionary right?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Every acre&mdash;every stick and stone of it&mdash;except,&rdquo; added he,
+with a sickly attempt at a smile, &ldquo;a beggarly tract, near Kiltimmon, Mary
+has a charge upon.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Read that, now,&rdquo; said Jack, handing him his recently written letter. &ldquo;I
+was about to send it without showing it to you; but it is as well you saw
+it.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+While Martin was reading, Massingbred never took his eyes from him. He
+watched with all his own practised keenness the varying emotions the
+letter cost; but he saw that, as he finished, selfishness had triumphed,
+and that the prospect of safety had blunted every sentiment as to the
+price.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Well,&rdquo; said Jack, &ldquo;what say you to that?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I say it's a right good offer, and on no account to be refused. There is
+some hitch or other&mdash;I can't say what, but it exists, I know&mdash;which
+ties us up against selling. Old Repton and the governor, and I think my
+mother, too, are in the secret; but I never was, so that Scanlan's
+proposal is exactly what meets the difficulty.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;But do you like his conditions?&rdquo; asked Jack.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I can't say I do. But what 's that to the purpose? One must play the hand
+that is dealt to them; there 's no choice! I know that, as agent over the
+property, he 'll make a deuced good thing of it for himself. It will not
+be five nor ten per cent will satisfy Master Maurice.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yes; but there is another condition, also,&rdquo; said Jack, quietly.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;About Mary? Well, of course it's not the kind of thing one likes. The
+fellow is the lowest of the low; but even that's better, in some respects,
+than a species of half gentility, for he actually has n't one in the world
+belonging to him. No one ever heard of his father or mother, and he's not
+the fellow to go in search of them.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I confess that <i>is</i> a consideration,&rdquo; said Massingbred, with a tone
+that might mean equally raillery or the reverse, &ldquo;so that you see no great
+objection on that score?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I won't say I 'd choose the connection; but 'with a bad book it's at
+least a hedge,'&mdash;eh, Massy, is n't it?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Perhaps so,&rdquo; said the other, dryly.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;It does n't strike me,&rdquo; said Martin, as he glanced his eye again over the
+letter, &ldquo;that you have advocated Scanlan's plan. You have left it without,
+apparently, one word of comment. Does that mean that you don't approve of
+it?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I never promised him I would advocate it,&rdquo; said Jack.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I have no doubt, Massingbred, you think me a deuced selfish fellow for
+treating the question in this fashion; but just reflect a little, and see
+how innocently, as I may say, I was led into all these embarrassments. I
+never suspected how deep I was getting. Merl used to laugh at me if I
+asked him how we stood; he always induced me to regard our dealings as
+trifles, to be arranged to-day, to-morrow, or ten years hence.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I am not unversed in that sort of thing, unluckily,&rdquo; said Massingbred,
+interrupting him. &ldquo;There is another consideration, however, in the present
+case, to which I do not think you have given sufficient weight.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;As to Mary, my dear fellow, the matter is simple enough. Our consent is a
+mere form. If she liked Scanlan, she 'd marry him against all the Martins
+that ever were born; and if she did n't, she 'd not swerve an inch if the
+whole family were to go to the stake for it. She 's not one for half
+measures, I promise you; and then, remember, that though she is one 'of
+us,' and well born, she has never mingled with the society of her equals;
+she has always lived that kind of life you saw yourself,&mdash;taking a
+cast with the hounds one day, nursing some old hag with the rheumatism the
+next. I 've seen her hearing a class in the village school, and half an
+hour after, breaking in a young horse to harness. And what between her
+habits and her tastes, she is really not fit for what you and I would call
+the world.&rdquo; As Massingbred made no reply, Martin ascribed his silence to a
+part conviction, and went on: &ldquo;Mind, I 'm not going to say that she is not
+a deuced deal too good for Maurice Scanlan, who is as vulgar a hound as
+walks on two legs; but, as I said before, Massy, we haven't much choice.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Will Lady Dorothea be likely to view the matter in this light?&rdquo; asked
+Jack, calmly.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;That is a mere matter of chance. She 's equally likely to embrace the
+proposal with ardor, or tell a footman to kick Scanlan out of the house
+for his impertinence; and I own the latter is the more probable of the
+two,&mdash;not, mark you, from any exaggerated regard for Mary, but out of
+consideration to the insult offered to herself.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Will she not weigh well all the perils that menace the estate?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;She'll take a short method with them,&mdash;she'll not believe them.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Egad! I must say the whole negotiation is in a very promising state!&rdquo;
+ exclaimed Jack, as he arose and walked the room. &ldquo;There is only one
+amongst us has much head for a case of difficulty.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You mean Kate Henderson?&rdquo; broke in Martin.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yes.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Well, we 've lost <i>her</i> just when we most needed her.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Lost her! How&mdash;what do you mean?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Why, that she is gone&mdash;gone home. She started this morning before
+daybreak. She had a tiff with my mother last night. I will say the girl
+was shamefully treated,&mdash;shamefully! My Lady completely forgot
+herself. She was in one of those blessed paroxysms in which, had she been
+born a Pasha, heads would have been rolling about like shot in a dockyard,
+and she consequently said all manner of atrocities; and instead of giving
+her time to make the <i>amende</i>, Kate beat a retreat at once, and by
+this time she is some twenty miles on her journey.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Massingbred walked to the window to hide the emotion these tidings
+produced; for, with all his self-command, the suddenness of the
+intelligence had unmanned him, and a cold and sickly feeling came over
+him. There was far more of outraged and insulted pride than love in the
+emotions which then moved him. The bitter thought of the moment was, how
+indifferent she felt about <i>him</i>,&mdash;how little <i>he</i> weighed
+in any resolve she determined to follow. She had gone without a word of
+farewell,&mdash;perhaps without a thought of him. &ldquo;Be it so,&rdquo; said he to
+himself; &ldquo;there has been more than enough of humiliation to me in our
+intercourse. It is time to end it! The whole was a dream, from which the
+awaking was sure to be painful. Better meet it at once, and have done with
+it.&rdquo; There was that much of passion in this resolve that proved how far
+more it came from wounded pride than calm conviction; and so deeply was
+his mind engrossed with this feeling, that Martin had twice spoken to him
+ere he noticed his question.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Do you mean, then, to show that letter to my mother?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Ay; I have written it with that object Scanlan asked me to be his
+interpreter, and I have kept my pledge.&mdash;And did she go alone,&mdash;unaccompanied?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I fancy so; but, in truth, I never asked. The doctors were here, and all
+that fuss and confusion going on, so that I had really little head for
+anything. After all, I suspect she's a girl might be able to take care of
+herself,&mdash;should n't you say so?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Massingbred was silent for a while, and then said: &ldquo;You 'll have to be on
+the alert about this business of yours, Martin; and if I can be of service
+to you, command me. I mean to start for London immediately.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I 'll see my mother at once, then,&rdquo; said he, taking up Massingbred's
+letter.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Shall I meet you in about an hour, in the Lichtenthal Avenue?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Agreed,&rdquo; said he; and they parted.
+</p>
+<p>
+We have no need, nor have we any right, to follow Massingbred as he
+strolled out to walk alone in an alley of the wood. Irresolution is an
+intense suffering to men of action; and such was the present condition of
+his mind. Week after week, month after month, had he lingered on in
+companionship with the Martins, till such had become the intimacy between
+them that they scrupled not to discuss before him the most confidential
+circumstances, and ask his counsel on the most private concerns. He
+fancied that he was &ldquo;of them;&rdquo; he grew to think that he was, somehow, part
+and parcel of the family, little suspecting the while that Kate Henderson
+was the link that bound him to them, and that without her presence they
+resolved themselves into three individuals for whom he felt wonderfully
+little of interest or affection. &ldquo;She is gone, and what have I to stay
+for?&rdquo; was the question he put to himself; and for answer he could only
+repeat it.
+</p>
+<p>
+<a name="link2HCH0025" id="link2HCH0025">
+<!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+</p>
+<div style="height: 4em;">
+<br /><br /><br /><br />
+</div>
+<h2>
+CHAPTER XXV. A COMPROMISE
+</h2>
+<p>
+There are many who think that our law of primogeniture is a sad hardener
+of the heart,&mdash;estranging the father from the son, widening petty
+misunderstandings to the breadth of grievances, engendering suspicions
+where there should be trustfulness, and opening two roads in life to those
+who should rightfully have trod one path together. If one half of this be
+the price we pay for our &ldquo;great houses,&rdquo; the bargain is a bad one! But
+even taking a wide margin for exaggeration,&mdash;allowing much for the
+prejudices of those who assail this institution,&mdash;there is that which
+revolts against one's better nature, in the ever-present question of
+money, between the father and his heir. The very fact that separate rights
+suggest separate interests is a source of discord; while the inevitable
+law of succession is a stern defiance to that sense of protection on one
+side, and dependence on the other, that should mark their relations to
+each other.
+</p>
+<p>
+Captain Martin was not devoid of affection for his family. He had, it is
+true, been very little at home, but he did not dislike it, beyond the
+&ldquo;boredom&rdquo; of a rather monotonous kind of life. He was naturally of a
+plastic temperament, however, and he lived amongst a set whose good
+pleasure it is to criticise all who belong to them with the very frankest
+of candor. One told how his governor, though rolling in wealth, kept him
+on a most beggarly allowance, illustrating, with many an amusing story,
+traits of avarice that set the table in a roar. Another exhibited his as
+such a reckless spendthrift that the family estate would never cover the
+debts. There was a species of rivalry on seeing who should lay most open
+to public view details and incidents purely belonging to a family. It was
+even a principle of this new school to discuss, and suffer others to
+discuss before them, the class and condition of life of their parents in a
+tone of mockery and derision, whenever the occasion might admit it; and
+the son of the manufacturer or the trader listened to allusions to his
+birth and parentage, and even jested upon them himself, in a spirit more
+flattering to his philosophy than to his pride.
+</p>
+<p>
+Martin had lived amidst all this for years. He had been often complimented
+upon the &ldquo;jolly good thing he was to have one of these days;&rdquo; he had been
+bantered out of many a wise and prudent economy, by being reminded of that
+&ldquo;deuced fine property nobody could keep him out of.&rdquo; &ldquo;What can it signify
+to <i>you</i> old fellow, a few hundreds more or less. You must have
+fifteen thousand a year yet. The governor can't live forever, I take it.&rdquo;
+ Others, too, as self-invited guests, speculated on all the pleasures of a
+visit to Cro' Martin; and if at first the young man heard such projects
+with shame and repugnance, he learned at last to listen to them with
+indifference, perhaps with something less!
+</p>
+<p>
+Was it some self-accusing on this score that now overwhelmed him as he sat
+alone in his room, trying to think, endeavoring to arouse himself to
+action, but so overcome that he sat there only half conscious, and but
+dimly discerning the course of events about him? At such moments external
+objects mingle their influences with our thoughts, and the sound of
+voices, the tread of footsteps, the mere shutting of a door, seem to blend
+themselves with our reveries, and give somewhat of reality to our dreamy
+fancies. A large clock upon the mantelpiece had thus fixed his attention,
+and he watched the minute-hand as though its course was meting out the
+last moments of existence. &ldquo;Ere it reach that hour,&rdquo; thought he, fixing
+his gaze upon the dial, &ldquo;what a change may have come over all my
+fortunes!&rdquo; Years&mdash;long years&mdash;seemed to pass over as he waited
+thus; scenes of childhood, of infancy itself, mingled with the gay
+dissipations of his after-life; school days and nights at mess, wild
+orgies of the play-table and sad wakings on the morrow, all moved through
+his distracted brain, till at length it was only by an effort that he
+could shake off these flitting fancies and remember where he was.
+</p>
+<p>
+He at once bethought him that there was much to be done. He had given
+Massingbred's letter to his mother, entreating a prompt answer, but two
+hours had now elapsed and she had not sent her reply. There was a struggle
+between his better nature and his selfishness whether to seek her. The
+thought of that sick-room, dark and silent, appalled him. &ldquo;Is it at such a
+time I dare ask her to address her mind to this? and yet hours are now
+stealing over which may decide my whole fate in life.&rdquo; While he thus
+hesitated, Lady Dorothea entered the room. Nights of anxiety and watching,
+the workings of a spirit that fought inch by inch with fortune, were
+deeply marked upon her features. Weariness and fatigue had not brought
+depression on her, but rather imparted a feverish lustre to her eyes, and
+an expression of haughty energy to her face.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Am I to take this for true,&rdquo; said she, as, seating herself in front of
+him, she held out Massingbred's letter,&mdash;&ldquo;I mean, of course, what
+relates to yourself?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+He nodded sorrowfully, but did not speak.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;All literally the fact?&rdquo; said she, speaking slowly, and dwelling on every
+word. &ldquo;You have actually sold the reversion of the estate?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And am beggared!&rdquo; said he, sternly.
+</p>
+<p>
+Lady Dorothea tried to speak. She coughed, cleared her throat, made
+another effort, but without succeeding; and then, in a slightly broken
+voice, said, &ldquo;Fetch me a glass of water. No, sit down; I don't want it.&rdquo;
+ The blood again mounted to her pale cheeks, and she was herself again.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;These are hard terms of Scanlan's,&rdquo; said she, in a dry, stern tone. &ldquo;He
+has waited, too, till we have little choice remaining. Your father is
+worse.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Worse than when I saw him this morning?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Weaker, and less able to bear treatment. He is irritable, too, at that
+girl's absence. He asks for her constantly, and confuses her in his mind
+with Mary.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And what does Schubart think?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I'll tell you what he <i>says</i>,&rdquo; replied she, with a marked emphasis
+on the last word. &ldquo;He says the case is hopeless; he has seen such linger
+for weeks, but even a day&mdash;a day&mdash;&rdquo; She tried to go on; but her
+voice faltered, her lip trembled, and she was silent.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I had begun to believe it so,&rdquo; muttered Martin, gloomily. &ldquo;He scarcely
+recognized me yesterday.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;He is perfectly collected and sensible now,&rdquo; said Lady Dorothea, in her
+former calm tone. &ldquo;He spoke of business matters clearly and well, and
+wished to see Scanlan.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Which I trust you did not permit?&rdquo; asked Martin, hurriedly.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I told him he should see him this evening, but there is no necessity for
+it. Scanlan may have left this before evening.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You suspect that Scanlan would say something,&mdash;would mention to him
+something of this affair?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Discretion is not the quality of the low-born and the vulgar,&rdquo; said she,
+haughtily; &ldquo;self-importance alone would render him unsafe. Besides,&rdquo;&mdash;and
+this she said rapidly,&mdash;&ldquo;there is nothing to detain the man here,
+when he knows that we accept his conditions.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And are we to accept them?&rdquo; said Martin, anxiously.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Dare we refuse them? What is the alternative? I suppose what you have
+done with your Jew friend has been executed legally&mdash;formally?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Trust <i>him</i> for that; he has left no flaw there!&rdquo; said Martin,
+bitterly.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I was certain of it,&rdquo; said she, with a scarcely perceptible sneer.
+&ldquo;Everything, therefore, has been effected according to law?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yes, I believe so,&rdquo; replied he, doggedly.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Then really there is nothing left to us but Scanlan. He objects to
+Repton; so do I. I always deemed him obtrusive and familiar. In the
+management of an Irish estate such qualities may be reckoned essential. I
+know what we should think of them in England, and I know where we should
+place their possessor.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I believe the main question that presses now is, are we to have an estate
+at all?&rdquo; said the Captain, bitterly.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yes, sir, you have really brought it to that,&rdquo; rejoined she, with equal
+asperity.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Do you consent to his having the agency?&rdquo; asked Martin, with an immense
+effort to suppress passion.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yes.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And you agree, also, to his proposal for Mary?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;It is matter of complete indifference to me who Miss Martin marries, if
+she only continue to reside where she does at present. I 'm certain she 'd
+not consult <i>me</i> on the subject; I'm sure I'd never control <i>her</i>.
+It is a <i>mésalliance</i>, to be sure; but it would be equally so, if
+she, with her rustic habits and uneducated mind, were to marry what would
+be called her equal. In the present case, she 'll be a little better than
+her station; in the other, she 'd be vastly beneath it!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Poor Molly!&rdquo; said he, half aloud; and, for the first time, there was a
+touch of his father's tone and manner in the words.
+</p>
+<p>
+Lady Dorothea looked at him, and with a slight shrug of the shoulders
+seemed to sneer at his low-priced compassion.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Scoff away!&rdquo; said he, sternly; &ldquo;but if I thought that any consent we gave
+to this scheme could take the shape of a coercion, I 'd send the estate to
+the&mdash;&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You have, sir; you have done all that already,&rdquo; broke in Lady Dorothea.
+&ldquo;When the troubled breathing that we hear from yonder room ceases, there
+is no longer a Martin of Cro' Martin!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Then what are we losing time for?&rdquo; cried he, eagerly. &ldquo;Are moments so
+precious to be spent in attack and recrimination? There's Scanlan sitting
+on a bench before the door. Call him up&mdash;tell him you accept his
+terms&mdash;let him start for London, post haste. With every speed he can
+master he 'll not be a minute too soon. Shall I call him? Shall I beckon
+to him?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Send a servant for him,&rdquo; said Lady Dorothea, calmly, while she folded up
+the letter, and laid it on the table at her side.
+</p>
+<p>
+Martin rang the bell and gave the order, and then, assuming an air of
+composure he was very far from feeling, sat silently awaiting Scanlan's
+entrance. That gentleman did not long detain them. He had been sitting,
+watch in hand, for above an hour, looking occasionally up at the windows,
+and wondering why he had not been summoned. It was, then, with an almost
+abrupt haste that he at last presented himself.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Read over that letter, sir,&rdquo; said Lady Dorothea, &ldquo;and please to inform me
+if it rightly conveys your propositions.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Scanlan perused Massingbred's letter carefully, and folding it up,
+returned it. &ldquo;Yes, my Lady,&rdquo; said he, &ldquo;I think it embraces the chief
+points. Of course there is nothing specified as to the mode of carrying
+them out,&mdash;I mean, as to the security I should naturally look for. I
+believe your Ladyship does not comprehend me?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Not in the least, sir.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Well, if I must speak plainer, I want to be sure that your concurrence is
+no mere barren concession, my Lady; that, in admitting my pretensions,
+your Ladyship favors them. This is, of course,&rdquo; said he, in a tone of
+deference, &ldquo;if your Ladyship condescends to accept the terms at all; for,
+as yet, you have not said so.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;If I had not been so minded, sir, this interview would not have taken
+place.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Well, indeed, I thought as much myself,&rdquo; said he; &ldquo;and so I at once
+entered upon what one might call the working details of the measure.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;How long will it take you to reach London, sir?&rdquo; asked she, coldly.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Four days, my Lady, travelling night and day.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;How soon after your arrival there can you make such arrangements as will
+put this affair out of all danger, using every endeavor in your power?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I hope I could answer for that within a week,&mdash;maybe, less.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You'll have to effect it in half that time, sir,&rdquo; said she, solemnly.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Well, I don't despair of that same, if I have only your Ladyship's
+promise to all that is set down there. I 'll neither eat nor sleep till
+the matter is in good train.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I repeat, sir, that if this settlement be not accomplished in less than a
+week from the present moment, it may prove utterly valueless.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I can only say I'll do my best, my Lady. I'd be on the road this minute,
+if your Ladyship would dismiss me.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Very well, sir,&mdash;you are free. I pledge myself to the full
+conditions of this letter. Captain Martin binds himself equally to observe
+them.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I 'd like it in writing under your Ladyship's hand,&rdquo; said Scanlan, in a
+half whisper, as though afraid to speak such doubts aloud. &ldquo;It is not that
+I have the least suspicion or misgiving in life about your Ladyship's
+word,&mdash;I'd take it for a million of money,&mdash;but when I come to
+make my proposals in person to Miss Mary&mdash;&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;There, sir, that will do!&rdquo; said she, with a disdainful look, as if to
+repress an explanation so disagreeable. &ldquo;You need not enter further upon
+the question. If you address me by letter, I will reply to it.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;There it is, my Lady,&rdquo; said he, producing a sealed epistle, and placing
+it on the table before her. &ldquo;I had it ready, just not to be losing time.
+My London address is inside; and if you'll write to me by to-morrow's
+post,&mdash;or the day after,&rdquo; added he, remarking a movement of
+impatience in her face&mdash;&ldquo;You shall have your bond, sir,&mdash;you
+shall have your bond,&rdquo; broke she in, haughtily.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;That ought to be enough, I think,&rdquo; said the Captain, with a degree of
+irritation that bespoke a long internal conflict.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I want nothing beyond what I shall earn, Captain Martin,&rdquo; said Scanlan,
+as a flash of angry meaning covered his features.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And we have agreed to the terms, Mr. Scanlan,&rdquo; said her Ladyship, with a
+great effort to conciliate. &ldquo;It only remains for us to say, a good
+journey, and every success attend you.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Thank you, my Lady; I'm your most obedient. Captain, I wish you good-bye,
+and hope soon to send you happy tidings. I trust, if Mr. Martin asks after
+me, that you 'll give him my respectful duty; and if&mdash;&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;We'll forget nothing, sir,&rdquo; said Lady Dorothea, rising; and Scanlan,
+after a moment's hesitation as to whether he should venture to offer his
+hand,&mdash;a measure for which, happily, he could not muster the courage,&mdash;bowed
+himself out of the room, and closed the door.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Not a very cordial leave-taking for one that's to be her nephew,&rdquo;
+ muttered he, with a bitter laugh, as he descended the stairs. &ldquo;And,
+indeed, my first cousin, the Captain, is n't the model of family
+affection. Never mind, Maurice, your day is coming!&rdquo; And with this
+assuring reflection he issued forth to give orders for his journey.
+</p>
+<p>
+A weary sigh&mdash;the outpouring of an oppressed and jaded spirit&mdash;broke
+from Lady Dorothea as the door closed after him. &ldquo;Insufferable creature!&rdquo;
+ muttered she to herself? and then, turning to the Captain, said aloud, &ldquo;Is
+that man capable of playing us false?&mdash;or, rather, has he the power
+of doing so?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;It is just what I have been turning over in my own mind,&rdquo; replied he. &ldquo;I
+don't quite trust him; and, in fact, I'd follow him over to London, if I
+were free at this moment.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Perhaps you ought to do so; it might be the wisest course,&rdquo; said she,
+hesitatingly.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Do you think I could leave this with safety?&rdquo; asked he. But she did not
+seem to have heard the question. He repeated it, and she was still silent.
+&ldquo;If the doctors could be relied on, they should be able to tell us.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;To tell us what?&rdquo; asked she, abruptly, almost sternly.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I meant that they'd know&mdash;that they'd perhaps be in a position to
+judge&mdash;that they at least could warn us&mdash;&rdquo; Here he stopped,
+confused and embarrassed, and quite unable to continue. That sense of
+embarrassment, however, came less of his own reflections than of the cold,
+steady, and searching look which his mother never ceased to bend on him.
+It was a gaze that seemed to imply, &ldquo;Say on, and let me hear how destitute
+of all feeling you will avow yourself.&rdquo; It was, indeed, the meaning of her
+stare, and so he felt it, as the color came and went in his cheek, and a
+sense of faintish sickness crept over him.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;The post has arrived, my Lady, and I have left your Ladyship's letters on
+the dressing-table,&rdquo; said a servant. And Lady Dorothea, who had been
+impatiently awaiting the mall, hastened at once to her room.
+</p>
+<p>
+<a name="link2HCH0026" id="link2HCH0026">
+<!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+</p>
+<div style="height: 4em;">
+<br /><br /><br /><br />
+</div>
+<h2>
+CHAPTER XXVI. A LETTER THAT NEVER REACHES ITS ADDRESS
+</h2>
+<p>
+It was not without a very painful emotion that Lady Dorothea turned over a
+mass of letters addressed to her husband. They came from various quarters,
+written in all the moods of many minds. Some were the mere gossip of clubs
+and dinnerparties,&mdash;some were kindly and affectionate inquiries,
+gentle reproachings on his silence, and banterings about his pretended low
+spirits. A somewhat favorite tone is that same raillery towards those
+whose lot in life seems elevated above the casualties of fortune,
+forgetting the while that the sunniest path has its shadows, and they whom
+we deem exempt from the sore trials of the world have their share of its
+sorrows. These read strangely now, as he to whom they were addressed lay
+breathing the heavy and labored breath, and muttering the low broken
+murmurs that prelude the one still deeper sleep!
+</p>
+<p>
+With a tremulous hand, and a gesture of fretful impatience, she threw them
+from her one after the other. The topics and the tone alike jarred upon
+her nerves. They seemed so unfeeling, too, and so heartless at such a
+moment. Oh, if we wanted to moralize over the uncertainty of life, what a
+theme might we have in the simple fact that, quicker than the lines we are
+writing fall from our pen, are oftentimes changing the whole fate and
+fortune of him for whom we destine them! We are telling of hope where
+despair has already entered,&mdash;we are speaking joy to a house of
+mourning! But one letter alone remained unopened. It was in Repton's hand,
+and she broke the seal, wondering how he, who of all men hated writing,
+should have turned a correspondent.
+</p>
+<p>
+The &ldquo;strictly confidential&rdquo; of the cover was repeated within; but the hour
+had come when she could violate the caution, and she read on. The first
+few lines were a half-jesting allusion to Martin's croakings about his
+health; but even these had a forced, constrained air, and none of the
+jocular ease of the old man's manner. &ldquo;And yet,&rdquo; continued he, &ldquo;it is
+exactly about your health I am most anxious. I want you to be strong and
+stout, body and mind, ready for action, and resolute. I know the tone and
+style that an absentee loves and even requires to be addressed in. He
+wants to be told that, however he may be personally regretted, matters go
+on wonderfully well in his absence, that rent is paid, farms improved,
+good markets abound, and the county a pattern of quietness. I could tell
+you all this, Martin, and not a syllable of it be true. The rents are not
+paid, partly from a season of great pressure, but, more still, from an
+expectancy on the side of the people that something&mdash;they know not
+what&mdash;is coming. The Relief Bill only relieved those who wanted to
+job in politics and make market of their opinions; the masses it has
+scarcely touched. They are told they are emancipated, but I am at a loss
+to know in what way they realize to their minds the new privilege. Their
+leaders have seen this. Shrewd fellows as they are, they have guessed what
+disappointment must inevitably ensue when the long-promised boon can show
+nothing as its results but certain noisy mob-orators made Parliament men;
+and so they have slyly hinted,&mdash;as yet it is only a hint,&mdash;'this
+is but the first step&mdash;an instalment they call it&mdash;of a large
+debt, every fraction of which must yet be paid!'
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Now there is not in all Europe a more cunning or a deeper fellow than
+Paddy. He has an Italian's subtlety and a Celt's suspicion; but enlist his
+self-love, his vanity, and his acquisitiveness in any scheme, and all his
+shrewdness deserts him. The old hackney coach-horses never followed the
+hay on the end of the pole more hopefully than will he travel after some
+promised future of 'fine times,' with plenty to eat and drink, and nothing
+to do for it! They have booked themselves now for this journey, and the
+delusion must run its course. Meanwhile rents will not be paid, farms not
+improved, bad prices and poverty will abound, and the usual crop of
+discontent and its consequent crime. I 'm not going to inflict you with my
+own opinions on this theme. You know well enough already that I never
+regarded these 'Agrarian disturbances,' as they are called, in the light
+of passing infractions of the peace, but traced in them the continuous
+working of a long preconcerted plan,&mdash;the scheme of very different
+heads from those who worked it,&mdash;by which the law should ever be
+assailed and the right of property everlastingly put in dispute. In plain
+words, the system was a standing protest against the sway of the Saxons in
+Ireland! 'The agitators' understood thoroughly how to profit by this, and
+they worked these alternate moods of outrage and peace pretty much as the
+priests of old guided their auguries. They brought the game to that
+perfection that a murder could shake a ministry, or a blank calendar
+become the triumph of an Administration!
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Such is, at the moment I am writing, the actual condition of Ireland!
+Come home, then, at once,&mdash;but come alone. Come back resolved to see
+and act for yourself. There is a lingering spark of the old feudalism yet
+left in the people. Try and kindle it up once more into the old healthful
+glow of love to the landlord. Some would say it is too late for all this;
+but I will not think so. Magennis has given us an open defiance; we are to
+be put on our title. Now, you are well aware there is a complication here,
+and I shall want to consult you personally; besides, we must have a search
+through those registries that are locked up in the strong-room. Mary tells
+me you carried away the key of it. I tell you frankly, I wish we could hit
+upon some means of stopping Magennis. The suit is a small war, that
+demands grand preparation,&mdash;always a considerable evil! The fellow, I
+am told, is also concocting another attack,&mdash;an action against your
+niece and others for the forcible abduction of his wife. It would read
+fabulously enough, such a charge, but as old Casey said, 'There never yet
+was anything you could n't impute at law, if you only employed the word
+&ldquo;conspiracy;&rdquo;' and I believe it! The woman certainly has deserted him, and
+her whereabouts cannot be ascertained. The scandal of such a cause would
+of course be very great; but if you were here we might chance upon some
+mode of averting it,&mdash;at all events, your niece shouldn't be deserted
+at such a moment. What a noble girl it is, Martin, and how gloriously she
+comprehends her station! Give me a dozen like her, and I 'll bid defiance
+to all the machinations of all the agitators; and they know it!
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;If your estate has resisted longer than those of your neighbors the
+demoralizing influences that are now at work here, you owe it to Mary. If
+crime has not left its track of blood along your avenue or on your
+door-sill, it is she who has saved you. If the midnight hour has not been
+scared by the flame of your burning house or haggard, thank <i>her</i> for
+it,&mdash;ay, Martin, <i>her</i> courage, <i>her</i> devotion, <i>her</i>
+watchful charity, <i>her</i> unceasing benevolence, the glorious guarantee
+her daily life gives, that <i>she</i>, at least, is with the people in all
+their sufferings and their trials! You or I had abandoned with impatience
+the cause that she had succored against every disappointment. Her woman's
+nature has endowed her with a higher and a nobler energy than ever a man
+possessed. She <i>will not</i> be defeated.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Henderson may bewail, and Maurice Scanlan deride, the shortcomings of the
+people. But through evil and good report she is there to hear from their
+own lips, to see with her own eyes, the story of their sorrows. Is this
+nothing? Is there no lesson in the fact that she, nurtured in every
+luxury, braves the wildest day of winter in her mission of charity?&mdash;that
+the most squalid misery, the most pestilent disease never deterred her? I
+saw her a few days back coming home at daybreak; she had passed the night
+in a hovel where neither you nor I would have taken shelter in a storm.
+The hectic flush of fatigue and anxiety was on her cheek; her eyes, deep
+sunk, showed weariness; and her very voice, as she spoke to me, was
+tremulous and weak; and of what, think you, was her mind full? Of the
+noble calm, the glorious, patient endurance of those she had just quitted.
+'What lessons might we not learn,' said she, 'beneath the wet thatch of
+poverty! There are three struck down with fever in that cabin; she who
+remains to nurse them is a little girl of scarcely thirteen. There is all
+that can render sickness wretched around them. They are in pain and in
+want; cold winds and rain sweep across their beds, if we could call them
+such. If they cherish the love of life, it must be through some instinct
+above all reason; and there they lie, uncomplaining. The little remnant of
+their strength exhausts itself in a look of thankfulness,&mdash;a faint
+effort to say their gratitude. Oh, if querulous hypochondriacism could but
+see them, what teaching it might learn! Sufferings that call forth from us
+not alone peevishness and impatience, but actually traits of rude and
+ungenerous meaning, develop in them an almost refined courtesy, and a
+trustfulness that supplies all that is most choice in words of gratitude.'
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And this is the girl whose life every day, every hour is imperilling,&mdash;who
+encounters all the hazards of our treacherous climate, and all the more
+fatal dangers of a season of pestilence, without friends, without a home!
+Now, Martin, apart from all higher and better considerations on the
+subject, this was not your compact,&mdash;such was not the text of your
+bargain with poor Barry. The pledge you gave him at your last parting was
+that she should be your daughter. That you made her feel all the affection
+of one, none can tell more surely than myself. That your own heart
+responds to her love I am as fully convinced of. But this is not enough,
+my dear Martin. She has rights&mdash;actual rights&mdash;that no special
+pleading on the score of intentions or good wishes can satisfy. I should
+but unworthily discharge my office, as your oldest friend in the world, if
+I did not place this before you broadly and plainly. The country is dull
+and wearisome, devoid of society, and without resources, and you leave it;
+but you leave behind you, to endure all its monotony, all its weariness,
+one who possesses every charm and every attention that are valued in the
+great world! There is fever and plague abroad, insurrection threatens, and
+midnight disturbances are rife, and she who is to confront these perils is
+a girl of twenty. The spirit of an invading party threatens to break down
+all the prestige of old family name and property,&mdash;a cunningly
+devised scheme menaces the existence of an influence that has endured for
+centuries; and to oppose its working, or fall victim to its onslaught, you
+leave a young lady, whose very impulses of generous meaning may be made
+snares to entrap her. In a word, you neglect duty, desert danger, shun the
+path of honorable exertion, and retreat before the menace of an encounter,
+to place, where you should stand yourself, the frail figure and gentle
+nature of one who was a child, as it were, but yesterday. Neither your
+health nor your happiness can be purchased at such a price,&mdash;your
+conscience is too sound for that,&mdash;nor can your ease! No, Martin,
+your thoughts will stray over here, and linger amongst these lonely glens
+that she is treading. Your fancy will follow her through the dark nights
+of winter, as alone she goes forth on her mission of mercy. You will think
+of her, stooping to teach the young&mdash;bending over the sick-bed of
+age. And then, tracing her footsteps homeward, you will see her sit down
+by a solitary hearth,&mdash;none of her own around her,&mdash;not one to
+advise, to counsel, to encourage her! I will say no more on this theme;
+your own true heart has already anticipated all that <i>I</i> could <i>speak</i>,&mdash;all
+that <i>you</i> should <i>do</i>.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Now for one more question, and I shall have finished the most painful
+letter I ever wrote in my life. There are rumors&mdash;I cannot trace
+them, nor fully understand them, but they imply that Captain Martin has
+been raising very considerable sums by reversionary bonds and post-obits.
+Without being able to give even a guess, as to the truth of this, I draw
+your attention to the bare possibility, as of a case full of very serious
+complications. Speak to your son at once on the subject, and learn the
+truth,&mdash;the whole truth. My own fears upon the matter have been
+considerably strengthened by hearing of a person who has been for several
+weeks back making inquiries on the estate. He has resided usually at
+Kilkieran, and spends his time traversing the property in all directions,
+investigating questions of rent, wages, and tenure of land. They tell
+marvellous stories of his charity and so forth,&mdash;blinds, doubtless,
+to cover his own immediate objects. Mary, however, I ought to say, takes a
+very different view of his character, and is so anxious to know him
+personally that I promised her to visit him, and bring him to visit her at
+the cottage. And, by the way, Martin, why should she be at the cottage,&mdash;why
+not at Cro' Martin? What miserable economy has dictated a change that must
+reflect upon her influence, not to speak of what is justly due to her own
+station? I could swear that you never gave a willing consent to this
+arrangement. No, no, Martin, the plan was never yours.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I 'm not going to bore you with borough politics. To tell truth, I can't
+comprehend them. They want to get rid of Massingbred, but they don't see
+who is to succeed him. Young Nelligan ought to be the man, but he will
+not. He despises his party,&mdash;or at least what would call itself his
+party,&mdash;and is resolved never to concern himself with public affairs.
+Meanwhile he is carrying all before him at the Bar, and is as sure of the
+Bench as though he were on it.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;When he heard of Magennis's intention of bringing this action against
+Mary, he came up to town to ask me to engage him on our side, 'since,'
+said he, 'if they send me a brief I cannot refuse it, and if I accept it,
+I promise you it shall be my last cause, for I have resolved to abandon
+the Bar the day after.' This, of course, was in strictest secrecy, and so
+you must regard it. He is a cold, calm fellow, and yet on this occasion he
+seemed full of impulsive action.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I had something to tell you about Henderson, but I actually forget what
+it was. I can only remember it was disagreeable; and as this epistle has
+its due share of bitters, my want of memory is perhaps a benefit; and so
+to release you at once, I 'll write myself, as I have never ceased to be
+for forty years,
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Your attached friend,
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Val. Repton.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I believe I was wrong about Henderson; at least the disagreeable went no
+further than that he is supposed to be the channel through which Lady
+Dorothea occasionally issues directions, not always in agreement with
+Mary's notions. And as your niece never liked the man, the measures are
+not more palatable when they come through his intervention.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Lady Dorothea was still pondering over this letter, in which there were so
+many things to consider, when a hurried message called her to the
+sick-room. As she approached the room, she could hear Martin's voice
+calling imperiously and angrily to the servants, and ordering them to
+dress him. The difficulty of utterance seemed to increase his irritation,
+and gave to his words a harsh, discordant tone, very unlike his natural
+voice.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;So,&rdquo; cried he, as she entered, &ldquo;you have come at last. I am nigh
+exhausted with telling them what I want. I must get up, Dora. They must
+help me to dress.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+As he was thus speaking, the servants, at a gesture from her Ladyship,
+quietly stole from the chamber, leaving her alone at his bedside.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You are too weak for this exertion, Godfrey,&rdquo; said she, calmly. &ldquo;Any
+effort like this is certain to injure you.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You think so?&rdquo; asked he, with the tone of deference that he generally
+used towards her. &ldquo;Perhaps you are right, Dora; but how can it be helped?&mdash;there
+is so much to do, such a long way to travel. What a strange confusion is
+over me! Do you know, Dolly,&rdquo;&mdash;here his voice fell to a mere whisper,&mdash;&ldquo;you'll
+scarcely credit it; but all the time I have been fancying myself at Cro'
+Martin, and here we are in&mdash;in&mdash;what do you call the place?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Baden.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yes&mdash;yes&mdash;but the country?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Germany.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Ay, to be sure, Germany; hundreds of miles away from home!&rdquo; Here he
+raised himself on one arm, and cast a look of searching eagerness through
+the room. &ldquo;Is he gone?&rdquo; whispered he, timidly.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Of whom are you speaking?&rdquo; said she.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Hush, Dolly, hush!&rdquo; whispered he, still lower. &ldquo;I promised I 'd not tell
+any one, even you, of his being here. But I must speak of it&mdash;I must&mdash;or
+my brain will turn. He was here&mdash;he sat in that very chair&mdash;he
+held my hand within both his own. Poor, poor fellow! how his eyes filled
+when he saw me! He little knew how changed he himself was!&mdash;his hair
+white as snow, and his eyes so dimmed!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;This was a dream, Godfrey,&mdash;only a dream!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I thought you 'd say so,&mdash;I knew it,&rdquo; said he, sorrowfully; &ldquo;but <i>I</i>
+know better. The dear old voice rang in my heart as I used to hear it when
+a child, as he said, 'Do you remember me?' To be sure I remembered him,
+and told him to go and fetch Molly; and his brow darkened when I said
+this, and he drew back his hand and said, 'You have deserted her,&mdash;she
+is not here!'&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;All this is mere fancy, Godfrey; you have been dreaming of home.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Ay,&rdquo; muttered he, gloomily, &ldquo;it was but too true; we did desert her, and
+that was not our bargain, Dolly. It was all the poor fellow asked at our
+hands,&mdash;his last, his only condition. What's that letter you have
+there?&rdquo; cried he, impatiently, as Lady Dorothea, in the agitation of the
+moment, continued to crumple Repton's letter between her fingers.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;A letter I have been reading,&rdquo; said she, sternly.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;From whom&mdash;from whom?&rdquo; asked he, still more eagerly.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;A letter from Mr. Repton. You shall read it when you are better. You are
+too weak for all this exertion, God-frey; you must submit&mdash;&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Submit!&rdquo; broke he in; &ldquo;the very word he said. You submit yourself to
+anything, if it only purchase your selfish ease. No, Dolly, no, I am
+wrong. It was I that said so. I owned to him how unworthily I had acted.
+Give me that letter, madam. Let me see it,&rdquo; said he, imperiously.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;When you are more tranquil, Godfrey,&mdash;in a fitting state.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I tell you, madam,&rdquo; cried he, fiercely, &ldquo;this, is no time for trifling or
+deception. Repton knows all our affairs. If he has written now, it is
+because matters are imminent. My head is clear now. I can think&mdash;I
+can speak. It is full time Harry should hear the truth. Let him come
+here.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Take a little rest, Godfrey, be it only half an hour, and you shall have
+everything as you wish it.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Half an hour! you speak of half an hour to one whose years are minutes
+now!&rdquo; said he, in a broken voice. &ldquo;This poor brain, Dora, is already
+wandering. The strange things I have seen so lately&mdash;that poor fellow
+come back after so many years&mdash;so changed, so sadly changed&mdash;but
+I knew him through all the mist and vapor of this feverish state; I saw
+him clearly, my own dear Barry!&rdquo; The word, as it were the last barrier to
+his emotion, brought forth a gush of tears; and burying his face within
+the bedclothes, he sobbed himself to sleep. As he slept, however, he
+continued to mutter about home and long passed years,&mdash;of boyish
+sports with his brother; childish joys and sorrows were all mingled there,
+with now and then some gloomier reveries of later days.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;He has been wandering in his mind!&rdquo; whispered Lady Dorothea to her son,
+as he joined her in the darkened room. &ldquo;He woke up, believing that he had
+seen his brother, and the effect was very painful.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Has he asked for <i>me?</i>&rdquo; inquired the other.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;No; he rambled on about Mary, and having deserted her, and all that; and
+just as ill-luck would have it, here is a letter from Repton, exactly
+filled with the very same theme. He insists on seeing it; but of course he
+will have forgotten it when he awakes.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You have written to Scanlan?&rdquo; asked he.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yes; my letter has been sent off.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Minutes are precious now. If anything should occur here,&rdquo;&mdash;his eyes
+turned towards the sick-bed as he spoke,&mdash;&ldquo;Merl will refuse to treat.
+His people&mdash;I know they are his&mdash;are hovering about the hotel
+all the morning. I heard the waiter whispering as I passed, and caught the
+words, 'No better; worse, if anything.' The tidings would be in London
+before the post.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Lady Dorothea made no reply, and all was now silent, save the unequal but
+heavy breathings of the sick man, and the faint, low mutterings of his
+dream. &ldquo;In the arras&mdash;between the window and the wall&mdash;there it
+is, Barry,&rdquo; cried he, in a clear, distinct voice. &ldquo;Repton has a copy of
+it, too, with Catty's signature,&mdash;old Catty Broon.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;What is he dreaming of?&rdquo; asked the young man.
+</p>
+<p>
+But, instead of replying to the question, Lady Dorothea bent down her head
+to catch the now muttered words of the sleeper.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;He says something of a key. What key does he mean?&rdquo; asked he.
+</p>
+<p>
+<a name="linkimage-0012" id="linkimage-0012">
+<!-- IMG --></a>
+</p>
+<div class="fig" style="width:80%;">
+<img src="images/297.jpg" width="100%" alt="297 " />
+</div>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Fetch me that writing-desk,&rdquo; said Lady Dorothea, as she took several keys
+from her pockets; and noiselessly unlocking the box, she began to search
+amidst its contents. As she continued, her gestures grew more and more
+hurried; she threw papers recklessly here and there, and at last emptied
+the entire contents upon the table before her. &ldquo;See, search if there be a
+key here,&rdquo; cried she, in a broken voice; &ldquo;I saw it here three days ago.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;There is none here,&rdquo; said he, wondering at her eagerness.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Look carefully,&mdash;look well for it,&rdquo; said she, her voice trembling at
+every word.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Is it of such consequence&mdash;&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;It is of such consequence,&rdquo; broke she in, &ldquo;that he into whose hands it
+falls can leave you and me beggars on the world!&rdquo; An effort at awaking by
+the sick man here made her hastily restore the papers to the desk, which
+she locked, and replaced upon the table.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Was it the Henderson did this?&rdquo; said she aloud, as if asking the question
+of herself. &ldquo;Could she have known this secret?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Did what? What secret?&rdquo; asked he, anxiously.
+</p>
+<p>
+A low, long sigh announced that the sick man was awaking; and in a faint
+voice he said, &ldquo;I feel better, Dora. I have had a sleep, and been dreaming
+of home and long ago. To-morrow, or next day, perhaps, I may be strong
+enough to leave this. I want to be back there again. Nay, don't refuse
+me,&rdquo; said he, timidly.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;When you are equal to the journey&mdash;&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I have a still longer one before me, Dora, and even less preparation for
+it. Harry, I have something to say to you, if I were strong enough to say
+it,&mdash;this evening, perhaps.&rdquo; Wearied by the efforts he had made, he
+lay back again with a heavy sigh, and was silent.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Is he worse&mdash;is he weaker?&rdquo; asked his son.
+</p>
+<p>
+A mournful nod of the head was her reply.
+</p>
+<p>
+Young Martin arose and stole noiselessly from the room, he scarcely knew
+whither; he indeed cared not which way he turned. The future threw its
+darkest shadows before him. He had little to hope for, as little to love.
+His servant gave him a letter which Massingbred had left on his departure,
+but he never opened it; and in a listless vacuity he wandered out into the
+wood.
+</p>
+<p>
+It was evening as he turned homeward. His first glance was towards the
+windows of his father's room. They were wont to be closely shuttered and
+fastened; now one of them lay partly open, and a slight breeze stirred the
+curtain within. A faint, sickly fear of he knew not what crept over him.
+He walked on quicker; but as he drew nigh the door, his servant met him.
+&ldquo;Well!&rdquo; cried he, as though expecting a message.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yes, sir, it is all over; he went off about an hour since.&rdquo; The man added
+something; but Martin heard no more, but hurried to his room, and locked
+the door.
+</p>
+<p>
+<a name="link2HCH0027" id="link2HCH0027">
+<!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+</p>
+<div style="height: 4em;">
+<br /><br /><br /><br />
+</div>
+<h2>
+CHAPTER XXVII. A VERY BRIEF INTERVIEW.
+</h2>
+<p>
+When Jack Massingbred found himself once more &ldquo;in town,&rdquo; and saw that the
+tide of the mighty world there rolled on the same full, boiling flood he
+had remembered it of yore, he began to wonder where and how he had
+latterly been spending his life. There were questions of politics&mdash;mighty
+interests of which every one was talking&mdash;of which he knew nothing;
+party changes and new social combinations had arisen of which he was
+utterly ignorant. But what he still more acutely deplored was that he
+himself had, so to say, dropped out of the memory of his friends, who
+accosted him with that half-embarrassed air that says, &ldquo;Have you been ill?&mdash;or
+in India?&mdash;or how is it that we have n't met you about?&rdquo; It was last
+session he had made a flash speech,&mdash;an effort that his own party
+extolled to the skies, and even the Opposition could only criticise the
+hardihood and presumption of so very young a member of the House,&mdash;and
+now already people had ceased to bear him in mind.
+</p>
+<p>
+The least egotistical of men&mdash;and Massingbred did not enter into this
+category&mdash;find it occasionally very hard to bear the cool &ldquo;go-by&rdquo; the
+world gives them whenever a chance interval has withdrawn them from public
+view. The stern truth of how little each atom of the social scheme affects
+the working of the whole machinery is far from palatable in its personal
+application. Massingbred was probably sensitive enough on this score, but
+too consummate a tactician to let any one guess his feelings; and so he
+lounged down to the &ldquo;House,&rdquo; and lolled at his Club, and took his airings
+in the Park with all the seeming routine of one who had never abdicated
+these enjoyments for a day.
+</p>
+<p>
+He had promised, and really meant, to have looked after Martin's affairs
+on his reaching London; but it was almost a week after his return that he
+bethought him of his pledge, his attention being then called to the
+subject by finding on his table the visiting-card of Mr. Maurice Scanlan.
+Perhaps he was not sorry to have something to do; perhaps he had some
+compunctions of conscience for his forgetfulness; at all events, he sent
+his servant at once to Scanlan's hotel, with a request that he would call
+upon him as early as might be. An answer was speedily returned that Mr.
+Scanlan was about to start for Ireland that same afternoon, but would wait
+upon him immediately. The message was scarcely delivered when Scanlan
+himself appeared.
+</p>
+<p>
+Dressed in deep mourning, but with an easy complacency of manner that
+indicated very little of real grief, he threw himself into a chair,
+saying, &ldquo;I pledge you my word of honor, it is only to yourself I 'd have
+come this morning, Mr. Massingbred, for I 'm actually killed with
+business. No man would believe the letters I've had to read and answer,
+the documents to examine, the deeds to compare, the papers to investigate&mdash;&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Is the business settled, then&mdash;or in train of settlement?&rdquo; broke in
+Jack.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I suppose it <i>is</i> settled,&rdquo; replied Scanlan, with a slight laugh.
+&ldquo;Of course you know Mr. Martin is dead?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Dead! Good heavens! When did this occur?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;We got the news&mdash;that is, Merl did&mdash;the day before yesterday. A
+friend of his who had remained at Baden to watch events started the moment
+he breathed his last, and reached town thirty hours before the mail; not,
+indeed, that the Captain has yet written a line on the subject to any
+one.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And what of the arrangement? Had you come to terms previously with Merl?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;No; he kept negotiating and fencing with us from day to day, now asking
+for this, now insisting on that, till the evening of his friend's arrival,
+when, by special appointment, I had called to confer with him. Then,
+indeed, he showed no disposition for further delay, but frankly told me
+the news, and said, 'The Conferences are over, Scanlan. I 'm the Lord of
+Cro' Martin.'&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And is this actually the case,&mdash;has he really established his claim
+in such a manner as will stand the test of law and the courts?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;He owns every acre of it; there's not a flaw in his title; he has managed
+to make all Martin's debts assume the shape of advances in hard cash.
+There is no trace of play transactions throughout the whole. I must be
+off, Mr. Massing-bred; there 's the chaise now at the door.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Wait one moment, I entreat of you. Can nothing be done? Is it too late to
+attempt any compromise?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;To be sure it is. He has sent off instructions already to serve the
+notice for ejectment. I 've got orders myself to warn the tenants not to
+pay the last half-year, except into court.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Why, are <i>you</i> in Mr. Merl's service, then?&rdquo; asked Jack, with one of
+his quiet laughs.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I am, and I am not,&rdquo; said Scanlan, reddening. &ldquo;You know the compact I
+made with Lady Dorothea at Baden. Well, of course there is no longer any
+question about that. Still, if Miss Mary agrees to accept me, I 'll stand
+by the old family! There 's no end of trouble and annoyance we could n't
+give Merl before he got possession. I know the estate well, and where the
+worst fellows on it are to be found! It's one thing to have the parchments
+of a property, and it is another to be able to go live on it, and draw the
+rents. But I can't stay another minute. Good-bye, air. Any chance of
+seeing you in the West soon?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I 'm not sure I 'll not go over to-morrow,&rdquo; said Jack, musing.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I suppose you are going to blarney the constituency?&rdquo; said Maurice,
+laughing heartily at his coarse conceit. Then suddenly seeing that
+Massingbred did not seem to relish the freedom, he hurriedly repeated his
+leave-takings, and departed.
+</p>
+<p>
+<a name="link2HCH0028" id="link2HCH0028">
+<!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+</p>
+<div style="height: 4em;">
+<br /><br /><br /><br />
+</div>
+<h2>
+CHAPTER XXVIII. THE DARK SIDE OF A CHARACTER.
+</h2>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Ye might ken the style of these epistles by this time, Dinah,&rdquo; said Mr.
+Henderson, as he walked leisurely up and down a long low-ceilinged room,
+and addressed himself to a piece of very faded gentility, who sat at a
+writing-table. &ldquo;She wants to hear naething but what she likes, and, as
+near as may be, in her ain words too.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I always feel as if I was copying out the same letter every time I
+write,&rdquo; whined out a weak, sickly voice.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;The safest thing ye could do,&rdquo; replied he, gravely. &ldquo;She never tires o'
+reading that everybody on the estate is a fule or a scoundrel, and ye
+canna be far wrang when ye say the worst o' them all. Hae ye told her
+aboot the burnin' at Kyle-a-Noe?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yes, I have said that you have little doubt it was malicious.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And hae ye said that there's not a sixpence to be had out of the whole
+townland of Kiltimmon?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I have. I have told her that, except Miss Mary herself, nobody would
+venture into the barony.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;The greater fule yerself, then,&rdquo; said he, angrily. &ldquo;Couldna ye see that
+she'll score this as a praise o' the young leddy's courage? Ye maun just
+strike it out, ma'am, and say that the place is in open rebellion&mdash;&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I thought you bade me say that Miss Mary had gone down there and spoken
+to the people&mdash;&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I bade ye say,&rdquo; broke he angrily in, &ldquo;that Miss Mary declared no rent
+should be demanded o' them in their present distress; that she threw the
+warrants into the fire, and vowed that if we called a sale o' their
+chattels, she 'd do the same at the castle, and give the people the
+proceeds.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You only said that she was in such a passion that she declared she 'd be
+right in doing so.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I hae nae time for hair-splitting, ma'am. I suppose if she had a right
+she 'd exercise it! Put down the words as I gie them to ye! Ye hae no
+forgotten the conspeeracy?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I gave it exactly as you told me, and I copied out the two paragraphs in
+the papers about it, beginning, 'Great scandal,' and 'If our landed gentry
+expect&mdash;'&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;That's right; and ye hae added the private history of Joan? They 'll make
+a fine thing o' that on the trial, showing the chosen associate o' a young
+leddy to hae been naething better than&mdash;Ech! what are ye blubberin'
+aboot,&mdash;is it yer feelin's agen? Ech! ma'am, ye are too sentimental
+for a plain man like me!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+This rude speech was called up by a smothering effort to conceal emotion,
+which would not be repressed, but burst forth in a violent fit of sobbing.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I know you didn't mean it. I know you were not thinking&mdash;&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;If ye canna keep your ain counsel, ye must just pay the cost o' it,&rdquo; said
+he, savagely. &ldquo;Finish the letter there, and let me send it to the post. I
+wanted ye to say a' about the Nelligans comin' up to visit Miss Mary, and
+she goin' ower the grounds wi' them, and sendin' them pineapples and
+grapes, and how that the doctor's girls are a'ways wi' her, and that she
+takes old Catty out to drive along wi' herself in the pony phaeton, which
+is condescendin' in a way her Leddyship will no approve o'. There was mony
+a thing beside I had in my head, but ye hae driven them a' clean awa' wi'
+your feelin's!&rdquo; And he gave the last word with an almost savage severity.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Bide a wee!&rdquo; cried he, as she was folding up the letter. &ldquo;Ye may add that
+Mister Scanlan has taken to shootin' over the preserves we were keepin'
+for the Captain, and if her Leddyship does not wish to banish the
+woodcocks a'the-gither, she 'd better gie an order to stop him. Young
+Nelli-gan had a special permission from Miss Mary hersel' and if it was na
+that he canna hit a haystack at twenty yards, there 'd no be a cock
+pheasant in the demesne! I think I 'm looking at her as she reads this,&rdquo;
+ said he, with a malicious grin. &ldquo;Ech, sirs, won't her great black eyebrows
+meet on her forehead, and her mouth be drawn in till never a bit of a red
+lip be seen! Is na that a chaise I see comin' up the road?&rdquo; cried he,
+suddenly. &ldquo;Look yonder!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I thought I saw something pass,&rdquo; said she, trying to strain her eyes
+through the tears that now rose to them.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;It's a post-chaise wi' twa trunks on the top. I wonder who's comin' in
+it?&rdquo; said Henderson, as he opened the sash-door, and stood awaiting the
+arrival. The chaise swept rapidly round the beech copse, and drew up
+before the door; the postilion, dismounting, lowered the steps, and
+assisted a lady to alight. She threw back her veil as she stood on the
+ground, and Kate Henderson, somewhat jaded-looking and pale from her
+journey, was before her father. A slight flush&mdash;very slight&mdash;rose
+to his face as he beheld her, and without uttering a word he turned and
+re-entered the house.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Ye are aboot to see a visitor, ma'am,&rdquo; said he to his wife; and, taking
+his hat, passed out of the room. Meanwhile Kate watched the postboy as he
+untied the luggage and deposited it at her side.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Did n't I rowl you along well, my Lady?&mdash;ten miles in little more
+than an hour,&rdquo; said he, pointing to his smoking cattle.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;More speed than we needed,&rdquo; said she, with a melancholy smile, while she
+placed some silver in his hand.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;What's this here, my Lady? It's like one of the owld tenpenny bits,&rdquo; said
+he, turning over and over a coin as he spoke.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;It's French money,&rdquo; said she, &ldquo;and unfortunately I have got none other
+left me.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Sure they'll give you what you want inside,&rdquo; said he, pointing towards
+the house.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;No, no; take this. It is a crown piece, and they'll surely change it for
+you in the town.&rdquo; And so saying, she turned towards the door. When she
+made one step towards it, however, she stopped. A painful irresolution
+seemed to possess her; but, recovering it, she turned the handle and
+entered.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;We did not know you were coming; at least, he never told me,&rdquo; said her
+stepmother, in a weak, broken voice, as she arose from her seat.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;There was no time to apprise you,&rdquo; said Kate, as she walked towards the
+fire and leaned her arm on the chimney-piece.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You came away suddenly, then? Had anything unpleasant&mdash;was there any
+reason&mdash;&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I had been desirous of leaving for some time back. Lady Dorothea only
+gave her consent on Tuesday last,&mdash;I think it was Tuesday; but my
+head is not very clear, for I am somewhat tired.&rdquo; There was an
+indescribable sadness in the way these simple words were uttered and in
+the sigh which followed them.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I 'm afraid he 'll not be pleased at it!&rdquo; said the other, timidly.
+</p>
+<p>
+Another sigh, but still weaker than the former, was Kate's only reply.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And how did you leave Mr. Martin? They tell us here that his case is
+hopeless,&rdquo; said Mrs. Henderson.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;He is very ill, indeed; the doctors give no hope of saving him. Is Miss
+Martin fully aware of his state?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Who can tell? We scarcely ever see her. You know that she never was very
+partial to your father, and latterly there has been a greater distance
+than ever between them. They differ about everything; and with that
+independent way he has&mdash;&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+A wide stare from Kate's full dark eyes, an expression of astonishment,
+mingled with raillery, in her features, here arrested the speaker, who
+blushed deeply in her embarrassment.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Go on,&rdquo; said Kate, gently. &ldquo;Pray continue, and let me hear what it is
+that his independence accomplishes.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Oh, dear!&rdquo; sighed the other. &ldquo;I see well you are not changed, Kate. You
+have come back with your old haughty spirit, and sure you know well, dear,
+that he 'll not bear it.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I 'll not impose any burden on his forbearance. A few days' shelter&mdash;a
+week or two at furthest&mdash;will not be, perhaps, too much to ask.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;So, then, you have a situation in view, Kate?&rdquo; asked she, more eagerly.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;The world is a tolerably wide one, and I 'm sure there is room for me
+somewhere, even without displacing another. But let us talk of anything
+else. How are the Nelligans? and Joe, what is he doing?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;The old people are just as you left them; but Mr. Joseph is a great man
+now,&mdash;dines with the Lord-Lieutenant, and goes into all the grand
+society of Dublin.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Is he spoiled by his elevation?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Your father thinks him haughtier than he used to be; but many say that he
+is exactly what he always was. Mrs. Nelligan comes up frequently to the
+cottage now, and dines with Miss Martin. I 'm sure I don't know how my
+Lady would like to see her there.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;She is not very likely,&rdquo; said Kate, dryly.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Why not?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I mean, that nothing is less probable than Lady Dorothea's return here.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I suppose not!&rdquo; half sighed Mrs. Henderson, for hers was one of those
+sorrowful temperaments that extract only the bitter from the cup of life.
+In reality, she had little reason to wish for Lady Dorothea's presence,
+but still she could make a &ldquo;very good grievance&rdquo; out of her absence, and
+find it a fitting theme for regret. &ldquo;What reason do you mean to give for
+your coming home, Kate, if he should ask you?&rdquo; inquired she, after a
+pause.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;That I felt dissatisfied with my place,&rdquo; replied Kate, coldly.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And we were always saying what a piece of good luck it was for you to be
+there! Miss Mary told Mrs. Nelligan&mdash;it was only the other day&mdash;that
+her uncle could n't live without you,&mdash;that you nursed him, and read
+to him, and what not; and as to her Ladyship, that she never took a drive
+in the carriage, or answered a note, without asking your advice first.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;What a profound impression Miss Martin must have received of my talents
+for intrigue!&rdquo; said Kate, sneeringly.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I believe not. I think she said something very kind and good-natured,
+just as if it was only people who had really very great gifts that could
+condescend to make themselves subservient without humiliation. I know she
+said 'without humiliation,' because your father laughed when he heard of
+it, and remarked, 'If it's Kate's humility they like, they are assuredly
+thankful for small mercies!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I should like to go over and see Miss Martin. What distance is it from
+this to the cottage?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;It's full three miles; but it's all through the demesne.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I'm a good walker, and I'll go,&rdquo; said she, rising. &ldquo;But first, might I
+ask for a little refreshment,&mdash;a cup of tea? Oh, I forgot,&rdquo; added
+she, smiling, &ldquo;tea is one of the forbidden luxuries here.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;No; but your father doesn't like to see it in the daytime. If you'd take
+it in your own room&mdash;&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Of course, and be most thankful. Am I to have the little room with the
+green paper, where I used to be, long ago?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Well, indeed, I can scarcely tell. The bed was taken down last autumn;
+and as we never thought of your coming home&mdash;&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Home!&rdquo; sighed Kate, involuntarily.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;But come into my room, and I 'll fetch you a cup of tea directly.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;No, no; it is better not to risk offending him,&rdquo; said Kate, calmly. &ldquo;I
+remember, now, that this was one of his antipathies. Give me anything
+else, for I have not eaten to-day.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+While her stepmother went in search of something to offer her, Kate sat
+down beside the fire, deep in thought. She had removed her bonnet, and her
+long silky hair fell in rich masses over her neck and shoulders, giving a
+more fixed expression to her features, which were of deathlike paleness.
+And so she sat, gazing intently on the fire, as though she were reading
+her very destiny in the red embers before her. Her preoccupation of mind
+was such that she never noticed the opening of the door, nor remarked that
+her father had entered. The noise of a chair being moved suddenly startled
+her. She looked up, and there he stood, his hat on his head and his arms
+closely folded on his breast, at the opposite side of the fire.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Well, lassie,&rdquo; said he, after a long and steady stare at her, &ldquo;ye hae
+left your place, or been turned oot o' it,&mdash;whilk is the case?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I came away of my own accord,&rdquo; said she, calmly.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And against my Leddy's wish?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;No, with her full consent.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And how did ye do it? for in her last letter to my sel', she says, 'I
+desire ye, therefore, to bear in mind that any step she takes on this
+head'&mdash;meaning about going away&mdash;'shall have been adopted in
+direct opposition to my wishes.' What has ye done since that?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I have succeeded in convincing her Ladyship that I was right in leaving
+her!&rdquo; said Kate.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Was it the force of your poleetical convictions that impelled ye to this
+course?&rdquo; said he, with a bitter grin, &ldquo;for they tell me ye are a rare
+champion o' the rights o' the people, and scruple not to denounce the
+upper classes, while ye eat their bread.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I denounce no one; nor, so far as I know myself, is ingratitude amongst
+my faults.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Maybe, if one were to tak' your ain narrative for it, ye hae nae faults
+worse than mere failings! But this is na telling me why ye left my Leddy.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Kate made no answer, but sat steadily watching the fire.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Ye wad rayther, mayhap, that I asked hersel' aboot it! Well, be it so.
+And noo comes anither point. Do ye think that if your conduct has in any
+way given displeasure to your mistress, or offended those in whose service
+ye were,&mdash;do ye think, I say, that ye hae the right to involve <i>me</i>
+in your shame and disgrace?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Do you mean,&rdquo; said she, calmly, &ldquo;that I had no right to come here?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;It 's just exactly what I mean; that if ye canna mak' friends for
+yoursel', ye ought not to turn away those whilk befriend your family.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;But what was I to have done, then?&rdquo; said she, gently. &ldquo;There were
+circumstances that required&mdash;imperatively required me&mdash;to leave
+Lady Dorothea&mdash;&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Let me hear them,&rdquo; said he, breaking in, &ldquo;It would lead me to speak of
+others than myself,&mdash;of events which are purely family matters,&mdash;were
+I to enter upon this theme. Besides,&rdquo; said she, rising, &ldquo;I am not, so far
+as I know, on my trial. There is not anything laid to my charge. I have no
+apologies to render.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+At this moment her stepmother appeared with a tray at the door, and seeing
+Henderson, endeavored to retire unobserved, but his quick eye had already
+detected her, and he cried out, &ldquo;Come here,&mdash;ye canna do too much
+honor to a young leddy who has such a vara profound esteem for hersel'!
+Cake and wine! my faith! No but ye 'll deem it vara vulgar fare, after the
+dainties ye hae been used to! And yet, lassie, these are nae the habits
+here!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;She has eaten nothing to-day!&rdquo; meekly observed her stepmother.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;My fayther wad hae askit her hoo much has she earned the day?&rdquo; said
+Henderson, severely.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You are quite right, sir,&rdquo; broke in Kate,&mdash;&ldquo;I have earned nothing.
+Not just yet,&rdquo; added she, as her stepmother pressed a glass of wine on her
+acceptance; &ldquo;a little later, perhaps. I have no appetite now.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Are ye sae stupid, ma'am, that ye canna see ye are dealin' wi' a fine
+leddy, wha is no obleeged to hae the same mind twa minutes thegither? Ye
+'ll hae to train wee Janet to be a' ready for whate'er caprice is
+uppermost. But mine me, lassie,&rdquo;&mdash;here he turned a look of stern
+meaning towards her,&mdash;&ldquo;ye hae tried for mony a lang day to subdue <i>me</i>
+to your whims and fancies, as they tell me ye hae done wi' sae mony
+others, and ye are just as far fra it noo as the first time ye tried it.
+Ye canna cheat nor cajole <i>me! I</i> know ye!&rdquo; And with these words,
+uttered in a tone of intense passion, he slowly walked out of the room.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Had he been angry with you?&mdash;had anything occurred before I came
+in?&rdquo; asked her stepmother.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Very little,&rdquo; sighed Kate, wearily. &ldquo;He was asking me why I came here, I
+believe. I could scarcely tell him; perhaps I don't very well know,
+myself.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;He can't get it out of his head,&rdquo; said the other, in a low, stealthy
+whisper, &ldquo;that, if you should leave Lady Dorothea, he will be turned away
+out of the stewardship. He is always saying it,&mdash;he repeats it even
+in his dreams. But for that, he 'd not have met you so&mdash;so&mdash;unkindly.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Kate pressed her hand affectionately, and smiled a thankful acknowledgment
+of this speech. &ldquo;And the cottage,&rdquo; said she, rallying suddenly, &ldquo;is about
+three miles off?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Not more. But you could scarcely walk there and back again. Besides, it
+is already growing late, and you have no chance of seeing Miss Mary if you
+'re not there by breakfast-time, since, when she comes home of an evening,
+she admits no one. She reads or studies, I believe, all the evening.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I think she'd see me,&rdquo; said Kate; &ldquo;I should have so much to tell her
+about her friends. I 'm sure she 'd see <i>me</i>,&mdash;at least, I'll
+try.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;But you'll eat something,&mdash;you 'll at least drink a glass of wine
+before you set out?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I do not like to refuse you,&rdquo; said Kate, smiling good-naturedly, &ldquo;but I
+could n't swallow now. I have a choking feeling here in my throat, like a
+heavy cold, that seems as though it would suffocate me. Good-bye, for a
+while. I shall be quite well, once I 'm in the open air. Good-bye!&rdquo; And,
+so saying, she wrapped her shawl around her, and motioning a farewell with
+her hand, set out on her errand.
+</p>
+<p>
+<a name="link2HCH0029" id="link2HCH0029">
+<!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+</p>
+<div style="height: 4em;">
+<br /><br /><br /><br />
+</div>
+<h2>
+CHAPTER XXIX. THE COTTAGE.
+</h2>
+<p>
+It was one of those fresh and breezy days where brilliant flashes of
+sunlight alternate with deep shadow, making of every landscape a
+succession of pictures, that Kate Henderson set out on her way to the
+cottage. Her path led through the demesne, but it was as wild as any
+forest scene in Germany, now wending through dark woods, now issuing forth
+over swelling lawns, from which the view extended many a mile away,&mdash;at
+one moment displaying the great rugged mountains of Connemara, and at
+another, the broad blue sea, heaving heavily, and thundering in sullen
+roar against the rocks.
+</p>
+<p>
+The fast-flitting clouds, the breezy grass, the wind-shaken foliage, and
+the white-crested waves, all were emblems of life; there was motion and
+sound and conflict! and yet to her heart, as she walked along, these
+influences imparted no sense of pleasure or relief. For a few seconds,
+perhaps, would she suddenly awake to the consciousness of the fair scene
+before her, and murmur to herself, perchance, the lines of some favorite
+poet; but in another moment her gloomy thoughtfulness was back again, and
+with bent-down head was she again moving onward. At times she walked
+rapidly forward, and then, relaxing her pace, she would stroll listlessly
+along, as though no object engaged her. And so was it in reality,&mdash;her
+main desire being to be free, in the open air; to be from beneath that
+roof whose shadow seemed to darken her very heart! Could that haughty
+spirit have humbled itself in sorrow, she might have found relief; but her
+proud nature had no such resource, and in her full heart injury and wrong
+had alone their place.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And this,&rdquo; burst she forth at length,&mdash;&ldquo;and this is Home! this the
+dreamland of those far away over the seas,&mdash;the cherished spot of all
+affections,&mdash;the quiet nook wherein we breathe an atmosphere of love,
+blending our lives with all dearest to us. Is it, then, that all is
+hollow, false, and untrue; or is it that I alone have no part in the
+happiness that is diffused around me? I know not which would be the
+sadder!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Thus, reasoning sadly, she went along, when suddenly, on the slope of a
+gentle hill in front of her, gracefully encircled with a young wood of
+larch and copper-beech, she caught sight of the cottage. It was a tasteful
+imitation of those seen in the Oberland, and with its wild background of
+lofty mountain, an appropriate ornament to the landscape.
+</p>
+<p>
+A small stream running over a rocky, broken bed formed the boundary of the
+little grounds, and over this a bridge of a single plank conducted the way
+to the cottage. The whole was simple and unpretending; there was none of
+that smart trimness which gives to such scenes the air of an imitation.
+The lawn, it is true, was neatly shaven, and the flower-plots, which broke
+its uniformity, clean from weeds; but the flowers were of the simplest
+kind,&mdash;the crocus and the daffodil had to stand no dangerous rivalry,
+and the hyacinth had nothing to vie with.
+</p>
+<p>
+Kate loitered for some time here, now gazing at the wild, stern landscape,
+now listening to the brawling rivulet, whose sounds were the only ones in
+the stillness. As she drew nigh the cottage, she found the windows of a
+little drawing-room open. She looked in: all was comfortable and
+neat-looking, but of the strictest simplicity. She next turned to the
+little porch, and pulled the bell; in a few seconds the sounds of feet
+were heard approaching, and a very old woman, whose appearance and dress
+were the perfection of neatness, appeared.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Don't you know me, Mrs. Broon?&rdquo; said Kate, gently.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I do not, then, my Lady,&rdquo; said she, respectfully, &ldquo;for my eyes is gettin'
+dimmer every day.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I 'm Kate Henderson, Mrs. Broon. Do you forget me?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Indeed I do not,&rdquo; said Catty, gravely. &ldquo;You were here with the master and
+my Lady?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yes. I went away with them to Germany; but I have come home for a while,
+and wish to pay my respects to Miss Mary.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;She isn't at home to-day,&rdquo; was the dry response.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;But she will return soon, I conclude. She'll be back some time in the
+evening, won't she?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;If she plazes it, she will. There's nobody to control or make her do but
+what she likes herself,&rdquo; said Catty.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I ask,&rdquo; said Kate, &ldquo;because I'm a little tired. I've come off a long
+journey, and if you'd allow me to rest myself, and wait awhile in the hope
+of seeing Miss Martin, I'd be very thankful.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Come in, then,&rdquo; said Catty; but the faint sigh with which the words were
+uttered, gave but a scant significance of welcome.
+</p>
+<p>
+Kate followed her into the little drawing-room, and at a sign from the old
+woman, took a seat.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Miss Mary is quite well, I'm glad to hear,&rdquo; said Kate, endeavoring to
+introduce some conversation.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Will they ever come back?&rdquo; asked the old woman, in a stern, harsh voice,
+while she paid no attention whatever to Kate's remark.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;It is very unlikely,&rdquo; said Kate. &ldquo;Your poor master had not long to live
+when I came away. He was sinking rapidly.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;So I heard,&rdquo; muttered the other, dryly; &ldquo;the last letter from Mr. Repton
+said 'he was n't expected.'&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I fear it will be a great shock to Miss Mary,&rdquo; said Kate.
+</p>
+<p>
+The old woman nodded her head slowly several times without speaking.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And, perhaps, cause great changes here?&rdquo; continued Kate.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;There's changes enough, and too many already,&rdquo; muttered Catty. &ldquo;I
+remember the place upwards of eighty years. I was born in the little house
+to the right of the road as you come up from Kelly's mills. There was no
+mill there then, nor a school-house, no, nor a dispensary either! Musha,
+but the people was better off, and happier, when they had none of them.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Kate smiled at the energy with which these words were uttered, surmising,
+rightfully, that Catty's condemnation of progress had a direct application
+to herself.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Now it's all readin' and writin', teachin' honest people to be rogues,
+and givin' them new contrivances to cheat their masters. When I knew Cro'
+Martin first,&rdquo; added she, almost fiercely, &ldquo;there was n't a Scotch steward
+on the estate; but there was nobody turned out of his houldin', and there
+was n't a cabin unroofed to make the people seek shelter under a ditch.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;The world would then seem growing worse every day,&rdquo; remarked Kate,
+quietly.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;To be sure it is. Why would n't it? Money is in every one's heart. Nobody
+cares for his own flesh and blood. 'T is all money! What will I get if I
+take that farm over another man's head, or marry that girl that likes
+somebody better than me? 'Tis to be rich they're all strivin', and the
+devil never made people his own children so completely as by teachin' them
+to love goold!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Your young mistress has but little of this spirit in her heart?&rdquo; said
+Kate.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Signs on it! look at the life she leads: up before daybreak, and away
+many times before I 'm awake. She makes a cup of coffee herself, and
+saddles the pony, too, if Patsey is n't there to do it; and she 's off to
+Glentocher, or Knock-mullen, twelve, fourteen miles down the coast, with
+barley for one, and a bottle of wine for the other. Sometimes she has a
+basket with her, just a load to carry, with tay and shugar; ay, and&mdash;for
+she forgets nothing&mdash;toys for the children, too, and clothes, and
+even books. And then to see herself, she 's not as well dressed as her own
+maid used to be. There 's not a night she does n't sit up patchin' and
+piecin' her clothes. 'T is Billy at the cross-roads made her shoes last
+time for her, just because he was starvin' with nothing' to do. She
+ordered them, and she wears them, too; it makes him so proud, she says, to
+see them. And this is the niece of the Martins of Cro' Martin! without one
+of her kith or kin to welcome her home at nightfall,&mdash;without father
+or mother, brother or sister,&mdash;without a kind voice to say 'God bless
+her,' as she falls off to sleep many a time in that big chair there; and I
+take off her shoes without her knowin' it, she does be so weary and tired;
+and in her dhrames it 's always talking to the people, givin' them
+courage, and cheerin' them up, tellin' them there 's good times for every
+one; and once, the other evenin', she sang a bit of a song, thinkin' she
+was in Mat Leahy's cabin amusin' the children, and she woke up laughin',
+and said, 'Catty, I 've had such a pleasant dhrame. I thought I had little
+Nora, my godchild, on my knee, and was teachin' her &ldquo;Why are the daisies
+in the grass?&rdquo; I can't tell you how happy I felt!' There it was: the only
+thing like company to her poor heart was a dhrame!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I do not wonder that you love her, Catty,&rdquo; said Kate; and the words fell
+tremulously from her lips.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Love her! what's the use of such as me lovin' her?&rdquo; cried the old woman,
+querulously. &ldquo;Sure, it's not one of my kind knows how good she is! If you
+only seen her comin' in here, after dark, maybe, wet and weary and
+footsore, half famished with cold and hunger,&mdash;out the whole livelong
+day, over the mountains, where there was fever and shakin' ague, and
+starvin' people, ravin' mad between disease and destitution; and the first
+word out of her mouth will be, 'Oh, Catty, how grateful you and I ought to
+be with our warm roof over us, and our snug fire to sit at,' never
+thinkin' of who she is and what she has the right to, but just makin'
+herself the same as <i>me</i>. And then she 'd tell me where she was, and
+what she seen, and how well the people was bearin' up under their trials,&mdash;all
+the things they said to her, for they 'd tell her things they would n't
+tell the priest. 'Catty,' said she, t' other night, 'it looks like
+heartlessness in me to be in such high spirits in the midst of all this
+misery here; but I feel as if my courage was a well that others were
+drinking out of; and when I go into a cabin, the sick man, as he turns his
+head round, looks happier, and I feel as if it was my spirit that was
+warmin' and cheerin' him; and when a poor sick sufferin' child looks up at
+me and smiles, I 'm ready to drop on my knees and thank God in
+gratitude.'&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Kate covered her face with her hands, and never spoke; and now the old
+woman, warming with the theme she loved best, went on to tell various
+incidents and events of Mary's life,&mdash;the perilous accidents which
+befell her, the dangers she braved, the fatigues she encountered. Even
+recounted by <i>her</i>, there was a strange adventurous character that
+ran through these recitals, showing that Mary Martin, in all she thought
+and said and acted, was buoyed and sustained by a sort of native chivalry
+that made her actually court the incidents where she incurred the greatest
+hazard. It was plain to see what charm such traits possessed for her who
+recorded them, and how in her old Celtic blood ran the strong current of
+delight in all that pertained to the adventurous and the wild.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;'Tis her own father's nature is strong in her,&rdquo; said Catty, with
+enthusiasm. &ldquo;Show him the horse that nobody could back, tell him of a
+storm where no fisherman would launch his boat, point out a cliff that no
+man could climb, and let me see who 'd hould him! She 's so like him, that
+when there 's anything daring to be done you would n't know her voice from
+his own. There, now, I hear her without,&rdquo; cried the old woman, as, rising
+suddenly, she approached the window. &ldquo;Don't you hear something?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Nothing but the wind through the trees,&rdquo; said Kate.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Ay, but <i>I</i> did, and my ears are older than yours. She's riding
+through the river now; I hear the water splashin'.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Kate tried to catch the sounds, but could not; she walked out upon the
+lawn to listen, but except the brawling of the stream among the rocks,
+there was nothing to be heard.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;D' ye see her comin'?&rdquo; asked Catty, eagerly.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;No. Your ears must have deceived you. There is no one coming.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I heard her voice, as I hear yours now. I heard her spake to the mare, as
+she always does when she 's plungin' into the river. There, now, don't you
+hear that?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I hear nothing, I assure you, my dear Mrs. Broon. It is your own anxiety
+that is misleading you; but if you like, I 'll go down towards the river
+and see.&rdquo; And without waiting for a reply Kate hastened down the slope. As
+she went, she could not help reflecting over the superstition which
+attaches so much importance to these delusions, giving them the character
+of actual warnings. It was doubtless from the mind dwelling so forcibly on
+Miss Martin's perilous life that the old woman's apprehensions had assumed
+this palpable form, and thus invented the very images which should react
+upon her with terror.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Just as I thought,&rdquo; cried Kate, as she stood on the bank of the stream;
+&ldquo;all silent and deserted, no one within sight.&rdquo; And slowly she retraced
+her steps towards the cottage. The old woman stood at the door, pale and
+trembling; an attempt to smile was on her features, but her heart denied
+the courage of the effort.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Where is she now?&rdquo; cried Catty, wildly. &ldquo;She rang the bell this minute,
+and I heerd the mare trottin' round to the stable by herself, as she
+always does. But where 's Miss Mary?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;My dear Mrs. Broon,&rdquo; said Kate, in her kindest accents, &ldquo;it is just as I
+told you. Your mind is anxious and uneasy about Miss Martin; you are
+unhappy at her absence, and you think at every stir you hear her coming;
+but I have been to the river-side, and there is no one there. I 'll go
+round to the stables, if you wish it.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;There 's no tracks of a hoof on the gravel,&rdquo; muttered the old woman, in a
+broken voice; &ldquo;there was nobody here!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;So I said,&rdquo; replied Kate. &ldquo;It was a mere delusion,&mdash;a fancy.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;A delusion,&mdash;a fancy!&rdquo; cried Catty, scornfully; &ldquo;that's the way they
+always spake of whatever they don't understand. It's easier to say that
+than confess you don't see how to explain a thing; but I heerd the same
+sounds before you came to-day; ay, and I went down to see why she was n't
+comin', and at the pool there was bubbles and froth on the water, just as
+if a baste had passed through, but no livin' thing to be seen. Was n't
+that a delusion, too?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;An accident, perchance. Only think, what lives of misery we should lead
+were we ever tracing our own fears, and connecting them with all the
+changes that go on around us!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;It's two days she's away, now,&rdquo; muttered the old woman, who only heeded
+her own thoughts; &ldquo;she was to be back last night, or early this mornin'.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Where had she gone to?&rdquo; asked Kate, who now saw that the other had lapsed
+into confidence.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;She's gone to the islands!&mdash;to Innishmore, and maybe, on to
+Brannock!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;That's a long way out to sea,&rdquo; said Kate, thoughtfully; &ldquo;but still, the
+weather is fine, and the day favorable. Had she any other object than
+pleasure in this excursion?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Pleasure is it?&rdquo; croaked Catty. &ldquo;'Tis much pleasure she does be given
+herself! Her pleasure is to be where there 's fever and want,&mdash;in the
+lonely cabin, where the sick is lyin'! It 's to find a poor crayture that
+run away from home she 's gone now,&mdash;one Joan Landy. She's missin'
+this two months, and nobody knows where she 's gone to! and Miss Mary got
+so uneasy at last that she could n't sleep by night nor rest by day,&mdash;always
+talkin' about her, and say in' as much as it was all her fault; as if <i>she</i>
+could know why she went, or where?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Did she go alone on this errand, then?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;To be sure she did. Who could she have with her? She towld Loony she 'd
+want the boat with four men in it, and maybe to stay out three days, for
+she 'd go to all the islands before she came back.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Loony 's the best sailor on the coast, I 've heard; and with such weather
+as this there is no cause for alarm.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Catty did not seem to heed the remark; she felt that within her against
+which the words of consolation availed but little, and she sat brooding
+sorrowfully and in silence.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;The night will soon be fallin' now,&rdquo; said she, at last. &ldquo;I hope she's not
+at sea!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+In spite of herself, Kate Henderson caught the contagion of the old
+woman's terrors, and felt a dreamy, undefined dread of coming evil. As she
+looked out, however, at the calm and fair landscape, which, as day
+declined, grew each moment more still, she rallied from the gloomy
+thoughts, and said,&mdash;&ldquo;I wish I knew how to be of any service to you,
+Mrs. Broon. If you could think of anything I could do&mdash;anywhere I
+could go&mdash;&rdquo; She stopped suddenly at a gesture from the old woman,
+who, lifting her hand to impress silence, stood a perfect picture of eager
+anxiety to hear. Bending down her head, old Catty stood for several
+seconds motionless.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Don't ye hear it now?&rdquo; broke she in. &ldquo;Listen! I thought I heerd something
+like a wailin' sound far off, but it is the wind. See how the tree-tops
+are bendin'!&mdash;That's three times I heerd it now,&rdquo; said Catty. &ldquo;If ye
+live to be as old as me, you 'll not think light of a warnin'. You think
+your hearin' better because you're younger; but I tell you that there 's
+sounds that only reach ears that are goin' to where the voices came from.
+When eyes grow dim to sights of this world, they are strainin' to catch a
+glimpse of them that's beyond it.&rdquo; Although no tears rose to her eyes, the
+withered face trembled in her agony, and her clasped hands shook in the
+suffering of her sorrow.
+</p>
+<p>
+Against impressions of this sort, Kate knew well enough how little
+reasoning availed, and she forbore to press arguments which she was aware
+would be unsuccessful. She tried, however, to turn the current of the old
+woman's thoughts, by leading her to speak of the condition of the country
+and the state of the people. Catty gave short, abrupt, and unwilling
+answers to all she asked, and Kate at length arose to take her leave.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You're goin' away, are ye?&rdquo; said Catty, half angrily.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I have only just remembered that I have a long way to walk, and it is
+already growing late.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Ay, and ye 're impatient to be back again, at home, beside your own fire,
+with your own people. But <i>she</i> has no home, and her own has deserted
+her!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Mine has not many charms for me!&rdquo; muttered Kate to herself.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;It's happy for you that has father and mother,&rdquo; went on the old woman.
+&ldquo;Them 's the only ones, after all!&mdash;the only ones that never loves
+the less, the less we desarve it! I don't wonder ye came back again!&rdquo; And
+in a sort of envious bitterness Catty wished her a good-night.
+</p>
+<p>
+If the distance she had to walk was not shortened by the tenor of her
+thoughts, as little did she feel impatient to press onward. Dreary and sad
+enough were her reveries. Of the wild visionary ambitions which once had
+stirred her heart, there remained nothing but disappointments. She had but
+passed the threshold of life to find all dreary and desolate; but perhaps
+the most painful feeling of the moment was the fact that now pressed
+conviction on her, and told that in the humble career of such a one as
+Mary Martin there lay a nobler heroism and a higher devotion than in the
+most soaring path of political ambition, and that all the theorizing as to
+popular rights made but a sorry figure beside the actual benefits
+conferred by one true-hearted lover of her kind. &ldquo;She is right, and I am
+wrong!&rdquo; muttered she to herself. &ldquo;In declining to entertain questions of
+statecraft she showed herself above, and not beneath, the proud position
+she had taken. The very lowliness of this task is its glory. Oh, if I
+could but win her confidence and be associated in such a labor! and yet my
+very birth denies me the prestige that hers confers.&rdquo; And then she thought
+of home, and all the coldness of that cheerless greeting smote upon her
+heart.
+</p>
+<p>
+The moon was up ere Kate arrived at her father's door. She tapped at it
+gently, almost timidly. Her stepmother, as if expecting her, came quickly,
+and in a low, cautious whisper told her that she would find her supper
+ready in her bedroom.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;To-morrow, perhaps, he may be in better humor or better spirits.
+Good-night.&rdquo; And so Kate silently stole along to her room, her proud heart
+swelling painfully, and her tearless eye burning with all the heat of a
+burning brain.
+</p>
+<p>
+<a name="link2HCH0030" id="link2HCH0030">
+<!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+</p>
+<div style="height: 4em;">
+<br /><br /><br /><br />
+</div>
+<h2>
+CHAPTER XXX. &ldquo;A TEA-PARTY&rdquo; AT MRS. CRONAN'S
+</h2>
+<p>
+Once more, but for the last time, we are at Kilkieran. To a dreary day of
+incessant rain succeeded an evening still drearier. Wild gusts swept along
+the little shore, and shook the frail windows and ill-fitting doors of the
+cottages, while foam and sea-drift were wafted over the roofs, settling
+like snow-flakes on the tall cliffs above them. And yet it was midsummer!
+By the almanac the time was vouched to be the opening of the season; a
+fact amply corroborated by the fashionable assemblage then enjoying the
+hospitalities of Mrs. Cronan's tea-table. There they were, with a single
+exception, the same goodly company already presented to the reader in an
+early chapter of our story. We have already mentioned the great changes
+which time had worked in the appearance of the little watering-place. The
+fostering care of proprietorship withdrawn, the ornamental villa of the
+Martins converted into a miserable village inn, the works of the pier and
+harbor suspended, and presenting in their unfinished aspect the dreary
+semblance of ruin and decay,&mdash;all conspired with the falling fortunes
+of the people to make the scene a sad one. Little evidence of this
+decline, however, could be traced in the aspect of that pleasant
+gathering, animated with all its ancient taste for whist, scandal, and
+shrimps; their appetite for such luxuries seeming rather to have increased
+than diminished by years. Not that we presume to say they could claim any
+immunity against the irrevocable decrees of age. Unhappily, the confession
+may be deemed not exactly in accordance with gallantry; but it is strictly
+true, time had no more forgotten the living than the inanimate accessories
+of the picture. Miss Busk, of the Emporium, had grown more sour and more
+stately. The vinegar of her temperament was verging upon verjuice, and the
+ill opinion of mankind experience enforced had written itself very legibly
+on her features. The world had not improved upon her by acquaintance. Not
+so Captain Bodkin; fatter and more wheezy than ever, he seemed to relish
+life rather more than when younger. He had given up, too, that long
+struggle with himself about bathing, and making up his mind to suffer no
+&ldquo;sea-change;&rdquo; he was, therefore, more cheerful than before.
+</p>
+<p>
+As for Mrs. Cronan, &ldquo;the little comforts she was used to&rdquo; had sorely
+diminished by the pressure of the times, and, in consequence, she drew
+unlimited drafts upon the past to fill up the deficiencies of the present.
+Strange enough is it, that the faults and follies of society are just as
+adhesive ingredients as its higher qualities! These people had grown so
+used to each other in all their eccentric ways and oddities, that they had
+become fond of them; like a pilot long accustomed to rocks and sandbanks,
+they could only steer their course where there was something to avoid!
+</p>
+<p>
+The remainder of the goodly company had grown stouter or thinner, jollier
+or more peevish, as temperament inclined; for it is with human nature as
+with wine: if the liquor does not get racier with years, it degenerates
+sadly.
+</p>
+<p>
+The first act of the whist and backgammon playing was over, and the party
+now sat, stood, crouched, lounged, or lay, as chance and the state of the
+furniture permitted, at supper. At the grand table, of course, were the
+higher dignitaries, such as Father Maher, the Captain, Miss Busk, and Mrs.
+Clinch; but cockles were eaten, and punch discussed in various very odd
+quarters; bursts of joyous laughter, too, came from dark pantries, and
+sounds of merriment mingled with the jangling crash of kitchen utensils.
+Reputations were roasted and pancakes fried, characters and chickens alike
+mangled, and all the hubbub of a festival prevailed in a scene where the
+efforts of the fair hostess were directed to produce an air of unblemished
+elegance and gentility.
+</p>
+<p>
+Poor Clinch, the revenue officer, who invariably eat what he called &ldquo;his
+bit&rdquo; in some obscure quarter, alone and companionless, was twice &ldquo;had up&rdquo;
+ before the authorities for the row and uproar that prevailed, and
+underwent a severe cross-examination, &ldquo;as to where he was when Miss
+Cullenane was making the salad,&rdquo; and, indeed, cut a very sorry figure at
+the conclusion of the inquiry. All the gayeties and gravities of the
+scene, however, gradually toned down as the serious debate of the evening
+came on; which was no other than the lamentable condition of the prospects
+of Kilkieran, and the unanimous opinion of the ruinous consequences that
+must ensue from the absence of the proprietor.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;We 've little chance of getting up the news-room now,&rdquo; said the Captain.
+&ldquo;The Martins won't give a sixpence for anything.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;It is something to give trade an impulse we want, sir,&rdquo; broke in Miss
+Busk,&mdash;&ldquo;balls and assemblies; evening reunions of the <i>élite</i> of
+society, where the elegance of the toilet should rival the <i>distingué</i>
+air of the company.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;That's word for word out of the 'Intelligence,'&rdquo; cried the Captain. &ldquo;It's
+unparliamentary to quote the newspapers.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I detest the newspapers,&rdquo; broke in Miss Busk, angrily; &ldquo;after advertising
+the Emporium for two seasons in the 'Galway Celt,' they gave me a leading
+article beginning, 'As the hot weather is now commencing, and the season
+for fashion approaches, we cannot better serve the interests of our
+readers than by directing attention to the elegant &ldquo;Symposium!&rdquo;'
+'Symposium!'&mdash;I give you my word of honor that's what they put it.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;On my conscience! it might have been worse,&rdquo; chuckled out the Captain.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;It was young Nelligan explained to me what it was,&rdquo; resumed Miss Busk;
+&ldquo;and Scanlan said, 'I'd have an action against them for damages.'&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Keep out of law, my dear!&mdash;keep out of law!&rdquo; sighed Mrs. Cronan.
+&ldquo;See to what it has reduced me! I, that used to go out in my own coach,
+with two men in green and gold; that had my house in town, and my house in
+the country; that had gems and ornaments such as a queen might wear! And
+there's all that's left me now!&rdquo; And she pointed to a brooch about the
+size of a cheese-plate, where a melancholy gentleman in uniform was
+represented, with a border of mock pearls around him. &ldquo;The last pledge of
+affection!&rdquo; sobbed she.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Of course you wouldn't pledge it, my dear,&rdquo; muttered the deaf old Mrs.
+Few; &ldquo;and they'd give you next to nothing on it, besides.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+<a name="linkimage-0013" id="linkimage-0013">
+<!-- IMG --></a>
+</p>
+<div class="fig" style="width:80%;">
+<img src="images/324.jpg" width="100%" alt="324 " />
+</div>
+<p>
+&ldquo;We 'll have law enough here soon, it seems,&rdquo; said Mrs. Cronan, angrily;
+for the laugh this blunder excited was by no means flattering and
+pleasant. &ldquo;There 's Magennis's action first for trial at the Assizes.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;That will be worth hearing,&rdquo; said Mrs. Clinch. &ldquo;They 'll have the first
+lawyers from Dublin on each side.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Did you hear the trick they played off on Joe Nelligan about it?&rdquo; asked
+the Captain. &ldquo;It was cleverly done. Magennis found out, some way or other,
+that Joe wanted to be engaged against him; and so what does he do but gets
+a servant dressed up in the Martin livery, and sends him to Joe's house on
+the box of a coach, inside of which was a gentleman that begged a word
+with the Counsellor. 'You 're not engaged, I hope, Counsellor Nelligan,'
+says he, 'in Magennis against Martin?' 'No,' says Joe, for he caught a
+glimpse of the livery. 'You're quite free?' says the other. 'Quite free,'
+says he. 'That's all I want, then,' says he; 'here's your brief, and
+here's your retainer;' and he put both down on the table, and when Joe
+looked down he saw he was booked for Magennis. You may imagine how he
+felt; but he never uttered a word, for there was no help for it.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And do you mean to tell me,&rdquo; cried Mrs. Clinch, &ldquo;that the lawyers can't
+help themselves, but must just talk and rant and swear for any one that
+asks them first?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;It's exactly what I mean, ma'am,&rdquo; responded the Captain. &ldquo;They 've no
+more choice in the matter than the hangman has as to who be 'll hang.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Then I'd as soon be a gauger!&rdquo; exclaimed the lady, with a contemptuous
+glance at poor Clinch, who winced under the observation.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;But I don't see what they wanted young Nelligan for,&rdquo; said Miss Busk;
+&ldquo;what experience or knowledge has <i>he?</i>&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;He's just the first man of the day,&rdquo; said Bodkin. &ldquo;They tell me that
+whether it be to crook out a flaw in the enemy's case, to pick a hole in a
+statement, to crush a witness, or cajole the jury, old Repton himself is
+n't his equal.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I suppose, from the airs he gives himself, he must be something
+wonderful,&rdquo; said Mrs. Cronan.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Well, now, I differ from you there, ma'am,&rdquo; replied Bodkin. &ldquo;I think Joe
+is just what he always was. He was cold, silent, and distant as a boy, and
+he 's the same as a man. Look at him when he comes down here at the
+Assizes, down to the town where his father is selling glue and hides and
+tenpenny-nails, and he 's just as easy and unconstrained as if the old man
+was Lord of Cro' Martin Castle.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;That's the height of impertinence,&rdquo; broke in Miss Busk; &ldquo;it's only real
+blood has any right to rise above the depreciating accidents of condition.
+I know it by myself.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Well, I wonder what he 'll make of this case, anyhow,&rdquo; said feodkin, to
+escape a controversy he had no fancy for. &ldquo;They tell me that no action can
+lie on it. It's not abduction&mdash;&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;For shame, Captain; you forget there are ladies here,&rdquo; said Mrs. Clinch.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Indeed I don't,&rdquo; sighed he, with a half-comic melancholy in his look.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I'll tell you how they do it, sir,&rdquo; chimed in Father Maher. &ldquo;Whenever
+there 's anything in law that never was foreseen or provided for, against
+which there is neither act nor statute, they 've one grand and unfailing
+resource,&mdash;they charge it as a conspiracy. I 've a brother an
+attorney, and he tells me that there is n't a man, woman, or child in the
+kingdom but could be indicted for doing something by a conspiracy.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;It's a great comfort to know that,&rdquo; said Bodkin, gravely.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And what can they do to her if she's found guilty?&rdquo; asked Mrs. Cronan.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Make her smart for the damages, ma'am; leave her something less to expend
+on perversion and interference with the people,&rdquo; said the priest. &ldquo;The
+parish isn't the same since she began visiting this one and reading to
+that. Instead of respect and confidence in their spiritual guides, the
+people are running after a young girl with a head full of wild schemes and
+contrivances. We all know by this time how these things end, and the best
+receipt to make a Protestant begins, 'First starve your Papist.'&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I rise to order,&rdquo; called out Bodkin. &ldquo;We agreed we'd have no polemics nor
+party discussions.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Why am I appealed to, then, for explanations that involve them?&rdquo; cried
+the priest, angrily. &ldquo;I'm supported, too, in my observations by a witness
+none will dispute,&mdash;that Scotchman, Henderson&mdash;&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;By the way, isn't his daughter come home to him?&rdquo; asked Bodkin, eager for
+a diversion.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Indeed she is, sir; and a pretty story there is about it, too. Miss Busk
+knows it all,&rdquo; said Mrs. Cronan.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I have it in confidence, ma'am, from Jemima Davis,&mdash;Lady Dorothea's
+second maid; but I don't think it a fit subject for public conversation.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And ain't we in committee here?&rdquo; chimed in Bodkin; &ldquo;have we any secrets
+from each other?&rdquo; The racy laugh of the old fellow, as he threw a knowing
+glance around the table, rather disconcerted the company. &ldquo;Let's hear
+about Henderson's daughter.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;The story is soon told, sir. Lady Dorothea detected her endeavoring to
+draw young Martin into a private marriage. The artful creature, by some
+means or other, had obtained such an insight into the young man's
+difficulties that she actually terrorized over his weak mind. She
+discovered, too, it is suspected, something rather more than indiscretions
+on his part.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+A long low whistle from the priest seemed to impart a kind of gratified
+surprise at this announcement.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;He had got into a habit of signing his name, they say; and whether he
+signed it to something he had no right to, or signed another name by
+mistake&mdash;&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Oh, for shame,&rdquo; broke in Bodkin; &ldquo;that wouldn't be one bit like a
+Martin.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Perhaps you are acquainted with all the circumstances better than myself,
+sir?&rdquo; said Miss Busk, bristling up with anger. &ldquo;Maybe you 've heard how
+the Henderson girl was turned away out of the French duke's family,&mdash;how
+she was found in correspondence with the leaders of the mob in Paris?
+Maybe, sir, you are aware that she has some mysterious hold over her
+father, and he dares not gainsay one word she says?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I don't know one word of it; and if it wasn't thought rude, I'd say I
+don't believe it, either,&rdquo; said Bodkin, stoutly.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I believe the worst that could be said of her,&rdquo; said Mrs. Clinch.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Well, well, make her as bad as you like; but how does that prove anything
+against young Martin? and if you can find nothing heavier to say of him
+than that he wanted to marry a very handsome girl&mdash;&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;A low creature!&rdquo; broke in Miss Busk.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;The lowest of the low!&rdquo; chimed in Mrs. Cronan.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;An impudent, upsetting minx!&rdquo; added Mrs. Clinch. &ldquo;Nothing would serve her
+but a post-chaise the morning she arrived by the mail for Dublin; and,
+signs on it, when she got home she had n't money to pay for it.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;It was n't that she left her place empty-handed, then,&rdquo; said Miss Busk.
+&ldquo;Jemima tells me that she managed the whole house,&mdash;paid for
+everything; and we all know what comes of that.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Miss Busk, in delivering this sentiment, was seated with her back to the
+door, towards which suddenly every eye was now turned in mingled
+astonishment and confusion; she moved round to see the cause, and there
+beheld the very object of her commentary standing close behind her chair.
+Closely wrapped in a large cloak, the hood of which she wore over her
+head, her tall figure looked taller and more imposing in its motionless
+attitude.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I have to ask pardon for this intrusion, ladies,&rdquo; said she, calmly; &ldquo;but
+you will forgive me when I tell the reason of it. I have just received
+very sad tidings, which ought to be conveyed to Miss Martin; she is at the
+islands, and I have no means of following her, unless Mr. Clinch will
+kindly lend me the revenue boat&mdash;&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And accompany you, I hope,&rdquo; broke in Mrs. Clinch, with a sneer.
+</p>
+<p>
+Kate did not notice the taunting remark, but went on, &ldquo;You will be grieved
+to hear that Mr. Martin is no more.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Martin dead!&rdquo; muttered the Captain.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Dead! When did he die?&rdquo; &ldquo;Where did it happen?&rdquo; &ldquo;How?&rdquo; &ldquo;Of what malady?&rdquo;
+ &ldquo;Are his remains coming home?&rdquo; were asked in quick succession by several
+voices.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;This letter will tell you all that I know myself,&rdquo; said she, laying it on
+the table. &ldquo;May I venture to hope Mr. Clinch will so far oblige me? The
+fishermen say the sea is too rough for their craft.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;It's not exactly on the King's service, I opine, ma'am,&rdquo; broke in Mrs.
+Clinch; &ldquo;but of course he is too gallant to oppose your wishes.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Faith! if you wanted any one with you, and would accept of myself,&rdquo; broke
+in Bodkin, &ldquo;I'm ready this minute; not that exactly salt water is my
+element.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;The young lady is accustomed to travel alone, or she is much belied,&rdquo;
+ said Miss Busk, with a sneer.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I suppose you'd better let her have the boat, Clinch,&rdquo; said his wife, in
+a whisper. &ldquo;There's no knowing what might come of it if you refused.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I 'll go down and muster the crew for you, Miss Henderson,&rdquo; said Clinch,
+not sorry to escape, although the exchange was from a warm cabin to the
+beating rain without.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Poor Martin!&rdquo; sighed Bodkin; &ldquo;he was the first of the family for many a
+long year that did n't breathe his last under his own roof. I 'm sure it
+weighed heavily on him.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I trust his son will follow his example, nevertheless,&rdquo; said the priest.
+&ldquo;I don't want to see one of the name amongst us.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You might have worse, Father Maher,&rdquo; said Bodkin, angrily.
+</p>
+<p>
+And now a lively discussion ensued as to the merits of him they had lost,
+for the most part with more of charity than many of their dissertations;
+from this they branched off into speculations about the future. Would the
+&ldquo;present man&rdquo; reside at home? would her Ladyship come back? what would be
+Mary's position? how would Scanlan fare? what of Henderson, too? In fact,
+casualties of every kind were debated, and difficulties started, that they
+might be as readily reconciled. Meanwhile Kate was hastening down to the
+shore, followed, rather than escorted, by little Clinch, who even in the
+darkness felt that the conjugal eye was upon him.
+</p>
+<p>
+<a name="link2HCH0031" id="link2HCH0031">
+<!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+</p>
+<div style="height: 4em;">
+<br /><br /><br /><br />
+</div>
+<h2>
+CHAPTER XXXI. THE BRANNOCK ISLANDS
+</h2>
+<p>
+A little to the northwest of the island of Innishmore are scattered a
+number of small islets, some scarcely more than barren rocks, called the
+Brannocks. One of these alone was inhabited, and that by a single family.
+No isolation could be more complete than that of these poor people, who
+thus dwelt amid the wide waste of waters, never seeing the face of a
+stranger, and only at long intervals visiting the mainland. Indeed the
+only intercourse they could be said to maintain with their fellow-men was
+when by chance they fell in with some homeward-bound ship at sea, and sold
+the little produce of their nets; for they lived by fishing, and had no
+other subsistence.
+</p>
+<p>
+The largest of these islands was called &ldquo;Brannock-buoy,&rdquo; or the Yellow
+Brannock, from the flower of a kind of crocus which grew profusely over
+it. It was a wild, desolate spot, scarcely rising above the waves around
+it, save in one quarter, where a massive column of rock rose to the height
+of several hundred feet, and formed the only shelter against the swooping
+wind, which came without break or hindrance from the far-away shores of
+Labrador. At the foot of this strong barrier&mdash;so small and
+insignificant as to escape notice from the sea&mdash;stood the little
+cabin of Owen Joyce. Built in a circular form, the chimney in the middle,
+the rude structure resembled some wigwam of the prairies rather than the
+home of civilized beings.
+</p>
+<p>
+Certain low partitions within subdivided the space into different
+chambers, making the centre the common apartment of the family, where they
+cooked and ate and chatted; for, with all their poverty and privation,
+theirs was a life not devoid of its own happiness, nor did they believe
+that their lot was one to repine at.
+</p>
+<p>
+Seasons of unprofitable labor, years of more or less pressure, they had
+indeed experienced, but actual want had never visited them; sickness, too,
+was almost as rare. Owen Joyce was, at the time we speak of, upwards of
+eighty; and although his hair was white as snow, his cheek was ruddy, his
+white teeth were perfect, and his eye&mdash;like that of Moses&mdash;&ldquo;was
+not dim.&rdquo; Surrounded by his children and grandchildren, the old man lived
+happy and contented, his daily teaching being to impress upon them the
+blessings they derived from a life so sheltered from all the accidents of
+fortune; to have, as he called the island, &ldquo;the little craft all their
+own.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+The traits of race and family, the limited range of their intercourse with
+the world, served to make them all wonderfully alike, not only in feature
+but expression; so that even the youngest child had something of the calm,
+steadfast look which characterized the old man. The jet-black hair and
+eyes and the swarthy skin seemed to indicate a Spanish origin, and gave
+them a type perfectly distinctive and peculiar.
+</p>
+<p>
+In the midst of them moved one who, though dressed in the light-blue
+woollen kirtle, the favorite costume of the islands, bore in her fresh
+bright features the traces of a different blood; her deep blue eye, soft
+and almost sleepy, her full, well-curved lips, were strong contrasts to
+the traits around her. The most passing glance would have detected that
+she was not &ldquo;one of them,&rdquo; nor had she been long an inmate of this
+dwelling.
+</p>
+<p>
+It chanced that some short time before, one of Joyce's sons, in boarding
+an outward-bound American ship, had heard of a young countrywoman who,
+having taken her passage for New York, no sooner found herself at sea&mdash;parted,
+as she deemed it, forever from home and country&mdash;than she gave way to
+the most violent grief; so poignant, indeed, was her sorrow that the
+captain compassionately offered to relinquish her passage-money if Joyce
+would take charge of her, and re-land her on the shores of Ireland. The
+offer was accepted, and the same evening saw her safely deposited on the
+rocky island of Brannock. Partly in gratitude to her deliverer, partly in
+the indulgence of a secret wish, she asked leave to remain with them and
+be their servant; the compact was agreed to, and thus was she there.
+</p>
+<p>
+Theirs was not a life to engender the suspicions and distrusts which are
+current in the busier walks of men. None asked her a reason for her
+self-banishment, none inquired whether the cause of her exile was crime or
+misfortune. They had grown to feel attachment to her for the qualities of
+her gentle, quiet nature, a mild submissive temper, and a disposition to
+oblige, that forgot nothing save herself. Her habits had taught her
+resources and ways which their isolated existence had denied them, and she
+made herself useful by various arts, which, simple as they were, seemed
+marvellous to the apprehension of her hosts; and thus, day by day, gaining
+on their love and esteem, they came at length to regard her with an
+affection mingled with a sort of homage.
+</p>
+<p>
+Poor Joan Landy&mdash;for we have not to explain that it was she&mdash;was
+happy,&mdash;happier than ever she had been before. The one great sorrow
+of her life was, it is true, treasured in her heart; her lost home, her
+blighted hope, her severed affection&mdash;for she actually loved Magennis&mdash;were
+griefs over which she wept many an hour in secret; but there was a sense
+of duty, a conscious feeling of rectitude, that supported her in her
+sacrifice, and as she thought of her old grandfather's death-bed, she
+could say to her heart, &ldquo;I have been true to my word with him.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+The unbroken quiet, the unchanging character of the life she led,&mdash;its
+very duties following a routine that nothing ever disturbed,&mdash;gave
+her ample time for thought; and thought, though tinged with melancholy,
+has its own store of consolation; and if poor Joan sorrowed, she sorrowed
+like one who rather deplored the past than desired to re-live it! As time
+wore on, a dreamy indistinctness seemed to spread itself over the memory
+of her former life: it appeared little other than a mind-drawn picture.
+Nothing actual or tangible remained to convince her of its reality. It was
+only at rare intervals, and in the very clearest weather, the outline of
+the mountains of the mainland could be seen; and when she did behold them,
+they brought only some vague recollection to her; and so, too, the
+memories of her once home came through the haze of distance, dim and
+indistinct.
+</p>
+<p>
+It was at the close of a day in June that the Joyces sat in front of the
+little cabin, repairing their nets, and getting their tackle in readiness
+for the sea. For some time previous the weather had been broken and
+unfavorable. Strong west winds and heavy seas&mdash;far from infrequent in
+these regions, even in midsummer&mdash;had rendered fishing impracticable;
+but now the aspect of a new moon, rising full an hour before sunset, gave
+promise of better, and old Joyce had got the launch drawn up on shore to
+refit, and sails were spread out upon the rocks to dry, and coils of rope,
+and anchors, and loose spars littered the little space before the door.
+The scene was a busy and not an unpicturesque one. There was every age,
+from the oldest to very infancy, all active, all employed. Some were
+calking the seams of the boat, others overhauled sails and cordage; some
+were preparing the nets, attaching cork floats or sinkers; and two chubby
+urchins, mere infants, laughing, fed the fire that blazed beneath a large
+pitch-pot, the light blue smoke rising calmly into the air, and telling
+those far away that the lone rock was not without inhabitants. To all
+seeming, these signs of life and habitation bad attracted notice; for a
+small boat which had quitted Innishmore for the mainland some time before,
+now altered her course, and was seen slowly bearing up towards the
+Brannocks. Though the sea was calm and waveless, the wind was only
+sufficient to waft her along at the slowest rate; a twinkling flash of the
+sea at intervals showed, however, that her crew were rowing, and at length
+the measured beat of the oars could be distinctly heard.
+</p>
+<p>
+Many were the speculations of those who watched her course. They knew she
+was not a fishing-craft; her light spars and white sails were sufficient
+to refute that opinion. Neither was she one of the revenue-boats. What
+could she be, then, since no large ship was in sight to which she could
+have belonged? It is only to those who have at some one period or other of
+life sojourned in some lone spot of earth, away from human intercourse,
+that the anxiety of these poor people could be intelligible. If, good
+reader,&mdash;for to you we now appeal,&mdash;it has not been your lot to
+have once on a time lived remote from the world and its ways, you cannot
+imagine how intensely interesting can become the commonest of those
+incidents which mark ordinary existence. They assume, indeed, very
+different proportions from the real, and come charged with innumerable
+imaginings about that wondrous life, far, far away, where there are
+thoughts and passions and deeds and events which never enter into the
+dreamland of exile! It was a little after sunset that the boat glided into
+the small creek which formed the only harbor of the island; and the moment
+after, a young girl sprang on the shore, and hastened towards them.
+</p>
+<p>
+<a name="linkimage-0014" id="linkimage-0014">
+<!-- IMG --></a>
+</p>
+<div class="fig" style="width:80%;">
+<img src="images/334.jpg" width="100%" alt="334 " />
+</div>
+<p>
+Before the Joyces had recovered from their first surprise, they saw Joan
+burst from the spot, and, rushing down the slope, throw herself at the
+stranger's feet.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And have I found you at last, dear Joan?&rdquo; cried a soft, low voice, while
+the speaker raised her tenderly from the ground, and took her hand kindly
+within both her own.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Oh, Miss Mary, to think you 'd come after me this far! over the say!&rdquo;
+ burst out Joan, sobbing through her joy; for joy it was that now lit up
+her features, and made her eyes sparkle even through the fresh tears that
+filled them.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;They told me you had sailed from Galway,&rdquo; resumed Mary, &ldquo;and I wrote to
+the ship-agent and found it was correct: your name was in the list of
+passengers, and the date of the day you sailed; but, I know not how it
+was, Joan, I still clung to the notion that you had contrived this plan to
+escape being discovered, and that you were concealed somewhere along the
+coast or in the islands. I believe I used to dream of this at first, but
+at last I thought of it all day long.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Thought of <i>me</i> all day long?&rdquo; broke in Joan, sobbing.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And why not, poor child? Was I not the cause of your leaving your home?
+Was it not my persuasion that induced you to leave the roof that sheltered
+you? I have often wondered whether I had right and reason on my side. I
+know at the time I believed I had such. At all events, but for me you had
+never quitted that home; but see, Joan, how what we are led to do with an
+honest purpose, if it fail to effect what we had in view, often leads to
+better and happier ends than we ever dreamed of. I only thought of
+conveying to you the last message of your poor grandfather. I little
+imagined how so simple an act could influence all your future fortune in
+life; and such it has done. Mr. Magennis, suspecting or discovering what
+share I had in your flight, has begun a law proceeding against me, and to
+give him a rightful claim for redress, has declared you to be&mdash;all
+that you wish, dear Joan&mdash;his lawful, wedded wife.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+It was some time before the poor girl could stifle the sobbing which burst
+from her very heart. She kissed Mary's hands over and over with rapture,
+and cried out at length, in broken, faltering accents, &ldquo;Did n't they say
+well that called you a saint from heaven? Didn't they tell truth that
+said, God gave you as a blessing to us?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;My poor Joan, you are grateful to me for what I have no share in. I am
+nothing but the bearer of good tidings. But tell me, how have you fared
+since we parted? Let me hear all that has happened to you.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Joan told her simple story in a few words, never deviating from the
+narrative, save to speak her heartfelt gratitude to the poor people who
+had sheltered and befriended her.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;There they are!&rdquo; cried she, pointing to the group, who, with a delicacy
+of sentiment that might have graced the most refined class, sat apart,
+never venturing by a look to obtrude upon the confidence of the others,&mdash;&ldquo;there
+they are; and if the world was like them, life would n't have many
+crosses!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Mary rose, and drew nigh the old man, who stood up respectfully to receive
+her.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;He does n't know much English, Miss Mary,&rdquo; whispered Joan in her ear.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Nor am I well skilled in Irish,&rdquo; said Mary, smiling; &ldquo;but I 'll do my
+best to thank him.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+However imperfectly she spoke the native tongue, the words seemed to act
+like a charm on those who heard them; and as, young and old, they gathered
+around her, their eager looks and delighted faces beamed with a triumphant
+joy. They had learned from the boatmen that it was the young princess&mdash;as
+in the language of the people she was called&mdash;was before them, and
+their pride and happiness knew no bounds.
+</p>
+<p>
+Oh, if courtiers could feel one tithe of the personal devotion to the
+sovereign that did these poor peasants to her they regarded as their
+chief, what an atmosphere of chivalry would breathe within the palace of
+royalty! There was nothing they would not have done or dared at her
+bidding; and as she crossed their threshold, and sat down beside their
+hearth, the tears of joy that rose to every eye showed that this was an
+event to be treasured till memory could retain no more!
+</p>
+<p>
+If Mary did not speak the native dialect fluently, there was a grace and a
+charm about the turn of the expressions she used that never failed to
+delight those who heard her. That imaginative thread that runs through the
+woof of Irish nature in every rank and condition of life&mdash;more
+conspicuous, probably, in the very humblest&mdash;imparted an intense
+pleasure to hearing and listening to her; and she, on her side, roused and
+stimulated by the adventurous character of the incident, the strange wild
+spot, the simple people, their isolation and their innocence, spoke with a
+warmth and an enthusiasm that were perfectly captivating.
+</p>
+<p>
+She had seen much of the peasantry,&mdash;known them in the most
+unfrequented tracts, remote from all their fellow-men,&mdash;in far-away
+glens, by dreary mountains, where no footpaths led; but anything so purely
+simple and unsophisticated as these poor people she had never met with.
+The sons had been&mdash;and that rarely, too&mdash;on the mainland, but
+the children and their mothers had never left the Brannocks; they had
+never beheld a tree, nor even a flower, save the wild crocus on their
+native rock. With what eager delight, then, did they hear Mary describe
+the gardens of the castle,&mdash;pictures that glowed with all the
+gorgeous colors of a fairy tale. &ldquo;You shall all come and see me, some of
+these days. I'll send you a messenger, to say the time,&rdquo; said Mary; &ldquo;and
+I'll promise that what you 'll witness will be far above my description of
+it!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+It was a sad moment when Mary arose to say good-bye. Joan, too, was to
+accompany her, and the grief at parting with her was extreme. Again and
+again the children clung round her, entreating her not to leave them; and
+she herself half faltered in her resolution. That lonely rock, that rude
+cabin, had been her refuge in the darkest hour of her life, and she felt
+the superstitious terror of her class at now deserting them.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Come, come, dear Joan, remember that you have a home now that you can
+rightfully return to,&rdquo; whispered Mary. &ldquo;It is not in shame, but in honor,
+that you go back to it.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+It was already dark ere they left the Brannocks: a long, heavy swell, too,
+the signs of a storm, coming from the westward, made the boatmen eager to
+hasten their departure. As yet, however, the air was calm and still, but
+it was with that oppressive stillness that forebodes change. They hoisted
+their sail, but soon saw that they must, for a while at least, trust to
+their oars. The unbroken stillness, save by the measured stroke of the
+rowers, the dense dark atmosphere, and the reaction, after a day of toil
+and an event of a most moving kind, so overcame Mary that, leaning on
+Joan's shoulder, she fell off fast asleep. For a while Joan, proud of the
+burden she supported, devoted all her care to watch and protect her from
+the night air; but at last weariness stole over herself, and she dropped
+off to slumber.
+</p>
+<p>
+Meanwhile the sea was rising; heavy waves struck the boat, and washed over
+her in sheets of spray, although no wind was stirring.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;We 'll have rain, or a gale of wind before long,&rdquo; said one of the men.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;There 's some heavy drops falling now,&rdquo; muttered another.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Throw that sail over Miss Mary, for it will soon come down heavily.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+A loud clap of thunder burst forth, and as suddenly, like a torrent, the
+rain poured down, hissing over the dark sea, and filling the air with a
+dull, discordant noise. Still they slept on, nor heard nor felt aught of
+that gathering storm.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;There now, sure enough, it 's coming,&rdquo; cried a boatman, as the sail shook
+tremulously; and two great waves, in quick succession, broke over the bow.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;We'll have to run for Innishmore,&rdquo; said another, &ldquo;and lucky if we get
+there before it comes on worse.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You ought to wake her up, Loony, and ask her what we are to do.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I 'll make straight for the harbor of Kilkieran,&rdquo; replied the helmsman.
+&ldquo;The wind is with us, and she's a good sea-boat. Take in the jib, Maurice,
+and we'll shorten all sail on her, and&mdash;&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+The rest of his speech was drowned in the uproar of a tremendous sea,
+which struck the boat on her quarter and nearly overset her. Not another
+word was now uttered, as, with the instinct of their calling, they set
+about to prepare for the coming conflict. The mainsail was quickly lowered
+and reefed, the oars and loose spars secured, and then, seating themselves
+in the bottom of the boat, they waited in silence. By this time the rain
+had passed over, and a strong wind swept over the sea.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;She's going fast through the water, anyway!&rdquo; said one of the men. But
+though the speech was meant to cheer, none felt or acknowledged the
+encouragement.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I 'd rather than own Cro' Martin Castle Miss Mary was safe at home!&rdquo; said
+Loony, as he drew the rough sleeve of his coat across his eyes, &ldquo;for it's
+thicker it's getting over yonder!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;It would be a black day that anything happened her!&rdquo; muttered another.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Musha! we've wives and childer,&rdquo; said a third, &ldquo;but she's worth a
+thousand of us!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+And thus, in broken whispers, they spoke; not a thought save of her, not a
+care save for her safety. They prayed, too, fervently, and her name was in
+all their supplications.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;She's singing to herself in her sleep,&rdquo; whispered Loony. And the rough
+sailors hushed to hear her.
+</p>
+<p>
+Louder and louder, however, grew the storm, sheets of spray and drift
+falling over the boat in showers, and all her timbers quivering as she
+labored in the stormy sea. A sailor whispered something in Loony's ear,
+and he grumbled out in reply,&mdash;&ldquo;Why would I wake her up?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;But I <i>am</i> awake, Loony,&rdquo; said Mary, in a low, calm voice, &ldquo;and I
+see all our danger; but I see, too, that you are meeting it like brave
+men, and, better still, like good ones.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;The men was thinking we ought to bear up for Innish-more, Miss Mary,&rdquo;
+ said Loony, as though ashamed of offering on his own part such counsel.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You'll do what you think best and safest for us all, Loony.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;But you were always the captain, miss, when you were aboord!&rdquo; replied he,
+with an effort to smile.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And so I should be now, Loony, but that my heart is too full to be as
+calm and resolute as I ought to be. This poor thing had not been here now,
+but for <i>me</i>.&rdquo; And she wrapped her shawl around Joan as she spoke.
+&ldquo;Maybe it's anxiety, perhaps fatigue, but I have not my old courage
+to-night!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Faix! it will never be fear that will distress you!&rdquo; said he.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;If you mean for myself and my own safety, Loony, you are right. It is not
+for me to repine at the hour that calls me away, but I cannot bear to
+think how you and others, with so many dear to you, should be perilled
+just to serve <i>me!</i> And poor Joan, too, at the moment when life was
+about to brighten for her!&rdquo; She held down her head for a minute or two,
+and then suddenly, as it were, rallying, she cried out, &ldquo;The boat is
+laboring too much for'ard, Loony; set the jib on her!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;To be sure, if you ordher it, Miss Mary; but she has more sail now than
+she can carry.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Set the jib, Loony. I know the craft well; she 'll ride the waves all the
+lighter for it. If it were but daylight, I almost think I 'd enjoy this.
+We 've been out in as bad before.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Loony shook his head as he went forward to bend the additional sail.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You see she won't bear it, miss,&rdquo; cried he, as the boat plunged fearfully
+into the trough of the sea.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Let us try,&rdquo; said she, calmly. &ldquo;Stand by, ready to slack off, if I give
+the word.&rdquo; And so saying, she took the tiller from the sailor, and seated
+herself on the weather-gunwale. &ldquo;There, see how she does it now! Ah,
+Loony, confess, I am the true pilot. I knew my nerve would come back when
+I took my old post here. I was always a coward in a carriage, if I was n't
+on the box and the reins in my hands; and the same at sea. Sit up to
+windward, men, and don't move; never mind baling, only keep quiet.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Miss Mary was right,&rdquo; muttered one of the men; &ldquo;the head-sail is drawing
+her high out of the water!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Is that dark mass before us cloud, or the land?&rdquo; cried she.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;It's the mountains, miss. There to the left, where you see the dip in the
+ridge, that's Kilkieran. I think I see the lights on shore now.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I see them now myself,&rdquo; cried Mary. &ldquo;Oh, how the sight of land gives love
+of life! They called earth truly who named her mother!&rdquo; said she to
+herself. &ldquo;What was that which swept past us, Loony?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;A boat, miss; and they're hailing us now,&rdquo; cried he, peeping over the
+gunwale. &ldquo;They've put her about, and are following our course. They came
+out after us.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;It was gallantly done, on such a night as this! I was just thinking to
+myself that poor old Mat Landy would have been out, were he living. You
+must take the tiller now, Loony, for I don't understand the lights on
+shore.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Because they're shifting every minute, miss. It's torches they have, and
+they 're moving from place to place; but we 'll soon be safe now.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Let us not forget this night, men,&rdquo; said Mary, in a fervent voice. And
+then, burying her face within her hands, she spoke no more.
+</p>
+<p>
+It was already daybreak when they gained the little harbor, well-nigh
+exhausted, and worn out with fatigue and anxiety. As for Mary, wet through
+and cold, she could not rise from her seat without assistance, and almost
+fainted as she put her foot on shore. She turned one glance seaward to
+where the other boat was seen following them, and then, holding Joan's
+hand, she slowly toiled up the rocky ascent to the village. To the crowd
+of every age that surrounded her she could only give a faint, sickly smile
+of recognition, and they, in deep reverence, stood without speaking,
+gazing on her wan features and the dripping garments which clung to her.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;No, not to the inn, Loony,&rdquo; said she, to a question from him. &ldquo;The first
+cabin we meet will shelter us, and then&mdash;home!&rdquo; There was something
+of intense sorrow in the thought that passed then through her mind, for
+her eyes suddenly filled up, and heavy tears rolled along her cheeks.
+&ldquo;Have they got in yet?&rdquo; said she, looking towards the sea.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yes, miss; they're close alongside now. It's the revenue boat that went
+after us.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Wirra, wirra! but that's bad news for her now,&rdquo; muttered a boatman, in
+conversation with an old woman at his side.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;What's the bad news, Patsey?&rdquo; said Mary, overhearing him.
+</p>
+<p>
+But the man did not dare to answer; and though he looked around on every
+side, none would speak for him.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You used to be more frank with me,&rdquo; said Mary, calmly. &ldquo;Tell me what has
+happened.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Still not a word was uttered, a mournful silence brooded over the crowd,
+and each seemed to shun the task of breaking it.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You will make me fear worse than the reality, perhaps,&rdquo; said she,
+tremulously. &ldquo;Is the calamity near home? No. Is it then my uncle?&rdquo; A low
+faint cry burst from her, and she dropped down on her knees; but scarcely
+had she joined her hands to pray, than she fell back, fainting, to the
+ground.
+</p>
+<p>
+They carried her, still insensible as she was, into a fisherman's cabin,
+till they went in search of a conveyance to take her to the cottage.
+</p>
+<p>
+<a name="link2HCH0032" id="link2HCH0032">
+<!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+</p>
+<div style="height: 4em;">
+<br /><br /><br /><br />
+</div>
+<h2>
+CHAPTER XXXII. LETTER FROM MASSINGBRED.
+</h2>
+<h3>
+&ldquo;Martin Arms, Oughterard.
+</h3>
+<p>
+&ldquo;In spite of all your reasonings, all your cautions, and all your
+warnings, here I am once more, Harry, denizen of the little dreary parlor
+whence I first looked out at Dan Nelligan's shop something more than a
+year since. What changes of fortune has that brief space accomplished I
+what changes has it effected even in my own nature! I feel this in nothing
+more than in my altered relations with others. If the first evidence of
+amendment in a man be shame and sorrow for the past, I may probably be on
+the right road now, since I heartily grieve over the worthless,
+purposeless life I have led hitherto.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I am well aware that you would not accept the reason I gave you for
+coming here. You said that, as to taking leave of my constituents, a
+letter was the ordinary and the sufficient course. You also hinted that
+our intercourse had not been of that close and friendly nature which
+requires a personal farewell, and then you suggested that other and less
+defensible motives had probably their share in this step. Well, you are
+right, perfectly right; I wanted to see the spot which has so far exerted
+an immense influence over me; I wanted&mdash;if you will have the
+confession&mdash;to see <i>her</i> too,&mdash;to see her in the humble
+station she belongs to, in the lowly garb of the steward's daughter. I was
+curious to ascertain what change her bearing would undergo in the change
+of position; would she conform to the lowlier condition at once and
+without struggle, or would her haughty nature chafe and fret against the
+obstacles of a small and mean existence? If you were right in guessing
+this, you are equally wrong in the motive you ascribe to me. Not, indeed,
+that you palpably express, but only hint at it; still I cannot endure even
+the shadow of such a surmise without a flat and full denial. Perhaps,
+after all, I have mistaken your meaning,&mdash;would it were so! I do
+indeed wish that you should not ascribe to me motives so unworthy and so
+mean. A revenge for her refusal of me! a reprisal for the proud rejection
+of my hand and fortune! No, my dear Harry, I feel, as I write the words,
+that they never were yours. You say, however, that I am curious to know if
+I should think her as lovable and attractive in the humble dress and
+humble station that pertain to her, as when I saw her moving more than
+equal amongst the proudest and haughtiest of Europe. To have any doubt on
+this score would be to distrust her sincerity of character. She must be
+what I have ever seen her, or she is an actress. Difference of condition,
+different associates, different duties will exact different discipline,
+but she herself must be the same, or she is a falsehood,&mdash;a
+deception.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And then you add, it is perhaps as well that I should 'submit to the rude
+test of a disenchantment.' Well, I accept the challenge, and I am here.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;These thoughts of self would obtrude in the very beginning of a letter I
+had destined for other objects. You ask me for a narrative of my journey
+and its accidents, and you shall have it. On my way over here in the
+packet, I made acquaintance with an elderly man, who seemed thoroughly
+acquainted with all the circumstances of the Martins and their
+misfortunes. From him I ascertained that all Scanlan had told me was
+perfectly correct. The reversion of the estate has been sold for a sum
+incredibly small in proportion to its value, and in great part the
+proceeds of gambling transactions. Martin is, therefore, utterly,
+irretrievably ruined. Merl has taken every step with all the security of
+the best advice, and in a few months, weeks perhaps, will be declared
+owner of Cro' Martin. Even in the 'fast times' we live in, such rapid ruin
+as this stands alone! You tell me that of your own college and mess
+associates not more than one in five or six have survived the wreck of
+fortune the first few years of extravagance accomplish, and that Manheim,
+Brussels, and Munich can show the white-seamed, mock-smartened-up
+gentilities which once were the glories of Bond Street and the Park; but
+for poor Martin, I suspect, even these last sanctuaries do not remain,&mdash;as
+I hear it, he is totally gone.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;From the very inn where I am staying Merls agents are issuing notices of
+all kinds to the tenants and 'others' to desist and refrain from cutting
+timber, quarrying marbles, and what not, on certain unspeakable
+localities, with threats in case of non-compliance. Great placards cover
+the walls of the town, headed 'Caution to all Tenants on the Estate of
+Cro' Martin.' The excitement in the neighborhood is intense, overwhelming.
+Whatever differences of political opinion existed between the Martins and
+the people of the borough, whatever jealousies grew out of disparity of
+station, seemed suddenly merged in sympathy for this great misfortune.
+They are, of course, ignorant of the cause of this sudden calamity, and
+ask each other how, when, and where such a fortune because engulfed.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;But to proceed regularly. On my reaching Dublin, after a hurried visit to
+my father, I drove off to Mr. Repton's house. You may remember his name as
+that of the old lawyer, some of whose bar stories amused you so highly. I
+found him in a spacious mansion of an old neglected street,&mdash;Henrietta
+Street,&mdash;once the great aristocratic quarter of Ancient Dublin, and
+even to this day showing traces of real splendor. The old man received me
+in a room of immense proportions, furnished as it was when Flood was the
+proprietor. He was at luncheon when I entered; and for company had the
+very same stranger with whom I made acquaintance in the packet.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Repton started as we recognized each other, but at a sign or a word, I'm
+not certain which, from the other, merely said, 'My friend was just
+speaking of his having met you, Mr. Massingbred.' This somewhat informal
+presentation over, I joined them, and we fell a chatting over the story of
+Cro' Martin.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;They were both eager to hear something about Merl, his character,
+pursuits, and position; and you would have been amazed to see how
+surprised they were at my account of a man whose type we are all so
+familiar with.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You would scarcely credit the unfeigned astonishment manifested by these
+two shrewd and crafty men at the sketch I gave them of our Hebrew friend.
+One thing is quite clear,&mdash;it was not the habit, some forty or fifty
+years ago, to admit the Merls of the world to terms of intimacy, far less
+of friendship.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;'As I said, Repton,' broke in the stranger, sternly, 'it all comes of
+that degenerate tone which has crept in of late, making society like a
+tavern, where he who can pay his bill cannot be denied entrance. Such
+fellows as this Merl had no footing in our day. The man who associated
+with such would have forfeited his own place in the world.'
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;'Very true,' said Repton, 'though we borrowed their money we never bowed
+to them.'
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;'And we did wisely, sir,' retorted the other. 'The corruption of their
+manners was fifty times worse than all their usury! The gallant Hussar
+Captain, as we see here, never scrupled about admitting to his closest
+intimacy a fellow not fit company for his valet. Can't you perceive that
+when a man will descend to such baseness to obtain money, there is no
+measuring the depth he will go to when pressed to pay it?'
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;'I am intimate with Martin,' said I, interrupting, 'and I can honestly
+assure you that it was rather to an easy, careless, uncalculating
+disposition he owes his misfortunes, than to anything like a spendthrift
+habit.'
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;'Mere hair-splitting this, sir,' replied he, almost rudely. 'He who
+spends what is not his own, I have but one name for. It matters little in
+my estimation whether he extorts the supply by a bill or a bullet.'
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I own to you, Harry, I burned to retort to a speech the tone and manner
+of which were both more offensive than the words; but the stranger's age,
+his venerable appearance, and something like deep and recent sorrow about
+him, restrained me, and I caught, by a look from Repton, that he was
+grateful for my forbearance.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;'Come, sir,' said he, addressing me, 'you say you know Captain Martin;
+now let me ask you one question: Is there any one trait or feature of his
+character to which, if his present misfortunes were to pass away, you
+could attach a hope of amendment? Has not this life of bill-renewing,
+these eternal straits for cash&mdash;with all the humiliations that
+accompany them,&mdash;made him a mere creature of schemes and plots,&mdash;a
+usurer in spirit, though a pauper in fact?'
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;'When I say, sir, that you are addressing this demand to one whom Captain
+Martin deems his friend, you will see the impropriety you have fallen
+into.'
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;'My young friend is right,' broke in Repton. 'The Court rules against the
+question; nor would it be evidence even if answered.'
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I was angry at this interference of Repton's. I wanted to reply to this
+man myself; but still, as I looked at his sorrow-struck features, and saw
+what I fancied the marks of a proud suffering spirit, I was well satisfied
+at not having given way to temper; still more so did I feel as he turned
+towards me, and, with a manner of ineffable gentleness, said, 'I entreat
+you to pardon me, sir, for an outburst of which I am already ashamed. A
+rude life and some bitter experiences have made me hard of heart and
+coarse in speech; still, it is only in moments of forgetfulness that I
+cease to remember what indulgence he owes to others who has such need of
+forgiveness himself.'
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I grasped his hand at once, and felt that his pressed mine like a
+friend's.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;'You spoke of going down to the West,' said he, after a brief pause. 'I
+start for that country to-night; you would do me a great favor should you
+accompany me.'
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I acceded at once, and he went on. 'Repton was to have been of the party,
+but business delays him a few days in town.'
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;'I 'll join you before the end of the week,' said Repton; 'by that time
+Mr. Massingbred will have expended all his borough blandishments and be
+free to give us his society.'
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Though the old lawyer now tried, and tried cleverly, to lead us away to
+lighter, pleasanter themes, the attempt was a failure; each felt, I
+suspect, some oppressive weight on his spirits that indisposed him to less
+serious talk; and again we came back to the Martins, the stranger
+evidently seeking to learn all he could of the disposition and temper of
+the young man.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;'It is as I thought,' said he, at last. 'It is the weak, sickly tone of
+the day has brought all this corruption upon us! Once upon a time the
+vices and follies of young men took their rise in their several natures,&mdash;this
+one gambled, the other drank, and so on,&mdash;the mass, however, was
+wonderfully sound and healthy; the present school, however, is to ape a
+uniformity, so that each may show himself in the livery of his fellows,
+thus imbibing wickedness he has no taste for, and none be less depraved
+and heartless than those around him. Let the women but follow the fashion,
+and there 's an end of us, as the great people we boasted to be!'
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I give you, so well as I can trust my memory, his words, Harry, but I
+cannot give you a certain sardonic bitterness,&mdash;a tone of mingled
+scorn and sorrow, such as I never before witnessed. He gave me the
+impression of being one who, originally frank, generous, and trustful,
+had, by intercourse with the world and commerce with mankind, grown to
+suspect every one and disbelieve in honesty, and yet could not bring his
+heart to acknowledge what his head had determined. In this wise, at least,
+I read his character from the opportunities I had of conversing with him
+on our journey. It was easy to see that he was a gentleman,&mdash;taking
+the word in the widest of its acceptations,&mdash;but from things that
+dropped from him, I could gather that his life had been that of an
+adventurer. He had been in the sea and land services of many of those new
+states of Southern America, had even risen to political importance in some
+of them; had possessed mines and vast tracts of territory one day, and the
+next saw himself 'without a piastre.' He had conducted operations against
+the Indians, and made treaties with them, and latterly had lived as the
+elected chief of a tribe in the west of the Rocky Mountains. But he knew
+civilized as well as savage life, had visited Spain in the rank of an
+envoy, and was familiar with all the great society of Rome, and the
+intrigues of its prince-bishops. The only theme, however, on which he
+really warmed was sport. The prairies brought out all his enthusiasm, and
+then he spoke like one carried away by glorious recollections of a time
+when, as he said himself, 'heart and hand and eye never failed him.'
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;When he spoke of family ties or home affections, it was in a spirit of
+almost mockery, which puzzled me. His reasoning was that the attachments
+we form are only emanations of our own selfishness. We love, simply to be
+loved again. Whereas, were we single-hearted, we should be satisfied to
+know that those dear to us were well and happy, and only seek to serve
+them without demonstration or display.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Am I wearying you, Harry, by dwelling on the traits of a man who, for the
+brief space I have known him, has made the most profound impression upon
+me? Even where I dissent&mdash;as is often the case&mdash;from his views,
+I have to own to myself that were I <i>he</i>, I should think and reason
+precisely as he does. I fancied at first that, like many men who had
+quitted civilized life for the rude ways of the 'bush,' he would have
+contrasted the man of refinement unfavorably with the savage, but he was
+too keen and acute for such a sweeping fallacy; he saw the good and evil
+in both, and sensibly remarked how independent of all education were the
+really strong characteristics of human nature. 'There is not a great
+quality of our first men,' said he, 'that I have not found to exist among
+the wild tribes of the Far West, nor is there an excellence of savage
+nature I have not witnessed amidst the polished and the pampered.'
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;From what I can collect, he is only here passingly; some family matter
+has brought him over to this country; but he is already impatient to be
+back to his old haunts and associates, and his home beside the Orinoco. He
+has even asked me to come and visit him there; and from all I can see I
+should be as likely to attain distinction among the Chaymas as in the
+House of Commons, and should find the soft turf of the Savannahs as
+pleasant as the Opposition benches. In fact, Harry, I have half promised
+to accept his invitation; and if he renew it with anything like
+earnestness, I am resolved to go.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I am just setting out for the Hendersons', and while the horses are being
+harnessed I have re-read your letter. Of course I have 'counted the cost,'&mdash;I
+have weighed the question to a pennyweight! I could already write down the
+list of those who will not know me at all, those who will know me a
+little, and the still fewer who will know my wife! Can you not see, my
+dear friend, that where one drags the anchor so easily, the mooring-ground
+was never good? The society to which you belong by such slender
+attachments gives no wound by separation from it.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;My anxiety now is on a very different score: it is that she will still
+refuse me. The hope I cling to is that she will see in my persistence a
+proof of sincerity. I would not, if I could, bring any family influence to
+my aid, and yet, short of this, there is nothing I would not do to insure
+success.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I wish I had never re-opened your letter; that vein of sarcastic coolness
+which runs through it will never turn me from my purpose. You seem to
+forget, besides, that you are talking to a man of the world, just as
+hackneyed, just as 'used up' as yourself. I should like to see you assume
+this indolent dalliance before La Henderson! Take my word for it, Harry,
+you 'd be safer with the impertinence amongst some of your duchesses in
+Pall Mall. You say that great beauty in a woman, like genius in a man, is
+a kind of brevet nobility, and yet you add that the envy of the world will
+never weary of putting the possessor 'on his title.' How gladly would I
+accept this challenge! Ay, Harry, I tell you, in all defiance, that your
+proudest could not vie with her!
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;If I wanted a proof of the vassalage of the social state we live in, I
+have it before me in the fact that a man like yourself, wellborn, young,
+rich, and high-hearted, should place the judgments and prejudices of half
+a dozen old tabbies of either sex above all the promptings of a noble
+ambition&mdash;all the sentiments of a generous devotion. Your starling
+cry of 'the Steward's daughter,' then, does not deter, it only determines
+the purpose
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Of yours faithfully,
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Jack Massingbred.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You 'll see by the papers that I have accepted the Chiltern Hundreds.
+This is the first step.&mdash;now for the second!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+<a name="link2HCH0033" id="link2HCH0033">
+<!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+</p>
+<div style="height: 4em;">
+<br /><br /><br /><br />
+</div>
+<h2>
+CHAPTER XXXIII. A DINNER AT &ldquo;THE LODGE&rdquo;
+ </h2>
+<p>
+While the &ldquo;Morning Post&rdquo; of a certain day, some twenty years ago, was
+chronicling the illustrious guests who partook of his Majesty's
+hospitalities at Windsor, the &ldquo;Dublin Evening Mail,&rdquo; under the less
+pretentious heading of &ldquo;Viceregal Court,&rdquo; gave a list of those who had
+dined with his Excellency at the Lodge.
+</p>
+<p>
+There was not anything very striking or very new in the announcement. Our
+<i>dramatis personæ,</i> in this wise, are limited; and after the
+accustomed names of the Lord Chancellor and Mrs. Dobbs, the Master of the
+Rolls and Mrs. Wiggins, Colonel Somebody of the 105th, Sir Felix and Miss
+Slasher, you invariably find the catalogue close with an un-der-secretary,
+a king-at-arms, and the inevitable Captain Lawrence Belcour, the
+aide-de-camp in waiting!&mdash;these latter recorded somewhat in the same
+spirit that the manager of a provincial theatre swells the roll of his
+company, by the names of the machinist, the scene-painter, and the leader
+of the band! We have no peculiar concern, however, with this fact, save
+that on the day in question our old friend Joseph Nelligan figured as a
+vice-regal guest. It was the first time he had been so honored, and,
+although not of a stamp to attach any great prize to the distinction, he
+was well aware that the recognition was intended as an honor; the more,
+when an aide-de-camp signified to him that his place at table was on one
+side of his Excellency.
+</p>
+<p>
+When this veracious history first displayed young Nelligan at a
+dinner-party, his manner was shy and constrained; his secluded,
+student-like habits had given him none of that hardihood so essential in
+society. If he knew little of passing topics, he knew less of the tone men
+used in discussing them; and now, although more conversant with the world
+and its ways, daily brought into contact with the business of life, his
+social manner remained pretty nearly the same cold, awkward, and diffident
+thing it had been at first. Enlist him in a great subject, or call upon
+him on a great occasion, and he could rise above it; place him in a
+position to escape notice, and you never heard more of him.
+</p>
+<p>
+The dinner company on this day contained nothing very formidable, either
+on the score of station or ability,&mdash;a few bar celebrities with their
+wives, an eccentric dean with a daughter, a garrison colonel or two, three
+country squires, and a doctor from Merrion Square. It was that interregnal
+period between the time when the castle parties included the first gentry
+of the land, and that later era when the priest and the agitator became
+the favored guests of vice-royalty. It is scarce necessary to say it was,
+as regards agreeability, inferior to either. There was not the courtly
+urbanity and polished pleasantry of a very accomplished class; nor was
+there the shrewd and coarse but racy intelligence of Mr. O'Connell's
+followers.
+</p>
+<p>
+The Marquis of Reckington had come over to Ireland to &ldquo;inaugurate,&rdquo; as the
+newspapers called it, a new policy; that is, he was to give to the working
+of the relief bill an extension and a significance which few either of its
+supporters or opposers in Parliament ever contemplated. The inequality of
+the Romanist before the law he might have borne; social depreciation was a
+heavier evil, and one quite intolerable. Now, as the change to the new
+system required considerable tact and address, they intrusted the task to
+a most accomplished and well-bred gentleman; and were Ireland only to be
+won by dinner-parties, Lord Reckington must have been its victor.
+</p>
+<p>
+To very high rank and great personal advantages he united a manner of the
+most perfect kind. Dignified enough always to mark his station and his own
+consciousness of it, it was cordial without effort, frank and easy without
+display. If he could speak with all the weight of authority, he knew how
+to listen with actual deference; and there was that amount of change and
+&ldquo;play&rdquo; in his demeanor that made his companion, whoever for the moment he
+might be, believe that his views and arguments had made a deep impression
+on the Viceroy. To those unacquainted with such men, and the school to
+which they belong, there might have appeared something unreal, almost
+dramatic, in the elegant gracefulness of his bow, the gentle affability of
+his smile, the undeviating courtesy which he bestowed on all around him;
+but they were all of the man himself,&mdash;his very instincts,&mdash;his
+nature.
+</p>
+<p>
+It had apparently been amongst his Excellency's instructions from his
+government to seek out such rising men of the Roman Catholic party as
+might be elevated and promoted on the just claims of their individual
+merits,&mdash;men, in fact, whose conduct and bearing would be certain to
+justify their selection for high office. It could not be supposed that a
+party long proscribed, long estranged from all participation in power,
+could be rich in such qualifications. At the bar, the ablest men usually
+threw themselves into the career of politics, and of course by strong
+partisanship more or less prejudiced their claims to office. It was rare
+indeed to find one who, with the highest order of abilities, was satisfied
+to follow a profession whose best rewards were denied him. Such was Joseph
+Nelligan when he was first &ldquo;called,&rdquo; and such he continued to the very
+hour we now see him. Great as had been his college successes, his triumphs
+at the bar overtopped them all. They who remembered his shy and reserved
+manner wondered whence he came by his dignity; they who knew his youth
+could not imagine how he came by his &ldquo;law.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Mr. M'Casky, the castle law-adviser, an old recruiting-serjeant of
+capacities, who had &ldquo;tipped the shilling&rdquo; to men of every party, had
+whispered his name to the Under-Secretary, who had again repeated it to
+the Viceroy. He was, as M'Casky said, &ldquo;the man they wanted, with talent
+enough to confront the best of the opposite party, and wealthy enough to
+want nothing that can figure in a budget.&rdquo; Hence was he, then, there a
+favored guest, and seated on his Excellency's left hand.
+</p>
+<p>
+For the magic influence of that manner which we have mentioned as
+pertaining to the Viceroy, we ask for no better evidence than the sense of
+perfect ease which Joe Nelligan now enjoyed. The <i>suave</i> dignity of
+the Marquis was blended with a something like personal regard, a
+mysterious intimation that seemed to say, &ldquo;This is the sort of man I have
+long been looking for; how gratifying that I should have found him at
+last!&rdquo; They concurred in so many points, too, not merely in opinions, but
+actually in the very expressions by which they characterized them; and
+when at last his Excellency, having occasion to quote something he had
+said, called him &ldquo;Nelligan,&rdquo; the spell was complete.
+</p>
+<p>
+Oh dear! when we torture our brains to legislate for apothecaries,
+endeavoring in some way or other to restrict the sale of those subtle
+ingredients on every grain or drop of which a human life may hang, why do
+we never think of those far more subtle elements of which great people are
+the dispensers,&mdash;flatteries more soothing than chloroform, smiles
+more lulling than poppy-juice! Imagine poor Nelligan under a course of
+this treatment, dear reader; fancy the delicious poison as it insinuates
+itself through his veins, and if you have ever been so drugged yourself,
+picture to your mind all the enjoyment he experienced.
+</p>
+<p>
+By one of those adroit turns your social magician is master of, the
+Viceroy had drawn the conversation towards Nelligan's county and his
+native town.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I was to have paid a visit to poor Martin there,&rdquo; said he, &ldquo;and I
+certainly should have looked in upon <i>you</i>.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Nelligan's cheek was in a flame; pride and shame were both there, warring
+for the mastery.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Poor fellow!&rdquo; said his Excellency, who saw the necessity of a diversion,
+&ldquo;I fear that he has left that immense estate greatly embarrassed. Some one
+mentioned to me, the other day, that the heir will not succeed to even a
+fourth of the old property.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I have heard even worse, my Lord,&rdquo; said Nelligan. &ldquo;There is a rumor that
+he is left without a shilling.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;How very shocking! They are connections of my own!&rdquo; said the Viceroy; as
+though what he said made the misery attain its climax.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I am aware, my Lord, that Lady Dorothea is related to your Excellency,
+and I am surprised you have not heard the stories I allude to.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;But perhaps I am incorrect,&rdquo; said the Marquis. &ldquo;It may be that I <i>have</i>
+heard them; so many things pass through one's ears every day. But here is
+Colonel Mas-singbred; he 's sure to know it. Massingbred, we want some
+news of the Martins&mdash;the Martins of&mdash;what is it called?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Cro' Martin, my Lord,&rdquo; said Nelligan, reddening.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I hold the very latest news of that county in my hand, my Lord,&rdquo; replied
+the Secretary. &ldquo;It is an express from my son, who writes from Oughterard.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Nelligan stood, scarcely breathing, with impatience to hear the tidings.
+</p>
+<p>
+Colonel Massingbred ran his eyes over the first page of the letter,
+murmuring to himself the words; then turning over, he said: &ldquo;Yes, here it
+is,&mdash;'While I write this, the whole town is in a state of intense
+excitement; the magistrates have sent in for an increased force of police,
+and even soldiery, to repress some very serious disturbances on the Martin
+property. It would appear that Merl&mdash;the man who assumes to claim the
+property, as having purchased the reversion from young Martin&mdash;was
+set upon by a large mob, and pursued, himself and his friends, for several
+miles across the country. They escaped with their lives, but have arrived
+here in a lamentable plight. There is really no understanding these
+people. It was but the other day, and there was no surer road to their
+favor than to abuse and vilify these same Martins, and now they are quite
+ready to murder any one who aspires to take their place. If one was to
+credit the stories afloat, they have already wreaked a fatal vengeance on
+some fellows employed by Merl to serve notices on the tenantry; but I
+believe that the outrages have really gone no further than such
+maltreatment as Irishmen like to give, and are accustomed to take.'&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Here his Excellency laughed heartily, and Joe Nelligan looked grave.
+</p>
+<p>
+Massingbred read on: &ldquo;'Without being myself a witness to it, I never could
+have credited the almost feudal attachment of these people to an &ldquo;Old
+House.&rdquo; The Radical party in the borough are, for the moment, proscribed,
+and dare not show themselves in the streets; and even Magennis, who so
+lately figured as an enemy to the Martins, passed through the town this
+morning with his wife, with a great banner flying over his jaunting-car,
+inscribed &ldquo;The Martins for Ever!&rdquo; This burst of sentiment on his part, I
+ought to mention, was owing to a most devoted piece of heroism performed
+by Miss Martin, who sought out the lost one and brought her safely back,
+through a night of such storm and hurricane as few ever remember. Such an
+act, amidst such a people, is sure of its reward. The peasantry would, to
+a man, lay down their lives for her; and coming critically, as the
+incident did, just when a new proprietor was about to enforce his claim,
+you can fancy the added bitterness it imparted to their spirit of
+resistance. I sincerely trust that the magistrates will not accede to the
+demand for an increased force. A terrible collision is sure to be the
+result, and I know enough of these people to be aware of what can be done
+by a little diplomacy, particularly when the right negotiator is employed.
+I mean, therefore, to go over and speak to Mr. Nelligan, who is the only
+man of brains amongst the magistrates here.'&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;A relative, I presume,&rdquo; said his Excellency.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;My father, my Lord,&rdquo; replied Joe, blushing.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Oh! here is the result of his interview,&rdquo; said Massing-bred, turning to
+the foot of the page. &ldquo;'Nelligan quite agreed in the view I had taken, and
+said the people would assuredly disarm and perhaps destroy any force we
+could send against them. He is greatly puzzled what course to adopt; and
+when I suggested the propriety of invoking Miss Martin's aid, told me that
+this is out of the question, since she is on a sick-bed. While we were
+speaking, a Dublin physician passed through on his way to visit her. This
+really does add to the complication, for she is, perhaps, the only one who
+could exert a great influence over the excited populace. In any other
+country it might read strangely, that it was to a young lady men should
+have recourse in a moment of such peril; but this is like no other
+country, the people like no other people, the young lady herself, perhaps,
+like no other young lady!'&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+By a scarcely perceptible movement of his head, and a very slight change
+of voice, Colonel Massingbred intimated to the Viceroy that there was
+something for his private ear, and Lord Reckington stepped back to hear
+it. Nelligan, too deeply occupied in his own thoughts to remark the
+circumstance, stood in the same place, silent and motionless.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;It is to this passage,&rdquo; whispered the Secretary, &ldquo;I want to direct your
+Excellency's attention: 'All that I see here,' my son writes,&mdash;'all
+that I see here is a type of what is going on, at large, over the island.
+Old families uprooted, old ties severed; the people, with no other
+instinct than lawlessness, hesitating which side to take. Their old
+leaders, only bent upon the political, have forgotten the social struggle,
+and thus the masses are left without guidance or direction. It is my firm
+conviction that the Church of Rome will seize the happy moment to usurp an
+authority thus unclaimed, and the priest step in between the landlord and
+the demagogue; and it is equally my belief that you can only retard, not
+prevent, this consummation. If you should be of <i>my</i> opinion, and be
+able to induce his Excellency to think with us, act promptly and
+decisively. Enlist the Roman Catholic laity in your cause before you be
+driven to the harder compact of having to deal with the clergy. And first
+of all, make&mdash;for fortunately you have the vacancy,&mdash;make young
+Nelligan your solicitor-general.'&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+The Viceroy gave a slight start, and smiled. He had not, as yet,
+accustomed his mind to such bold exercise of his patronage. He lived,
+however, to get over this sensation.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;My son,&rdquo; resumed Massingbred, &ldquo;argues this at some length. If you permit,
+I 'll leave the letter in your Excellency's hands. In fact, I read it very
+hurriedly, and came over here the moment I glanced my eyes over this
+passage.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+His Excellency took the letter, and turned to address a word to Joe
+Nelligan, but he had left the spot.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Belcour,&rdquo; said the Viceroy, &ldquo;tell Mr. Nelligan I wish to speak to him. I
+shall be in the small drawing-room. I 'll talk with him alone.
+Massingbred, be ready to come when I shall send for you.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+The Viceroy sat alone by the fire, pondering over all he had heard. There
+was, indeed, that to ponder over, even in the brief, vague description of
+the writer. &ldquo;The difficulties of Ireland,&rdquo; as it was the fashion of the
+day to call them, were not such as government commissions discover, or
+blue books describe; they lay deeper than the legislative lead-line ever
+reaches,&mdash;many a fathom down below statutes and Acts of Parliament.
+They were in the instincts, the natures, the blood of a people who had
+never acknowledged themselves a conquered nation. Perhaps his Excellency
+lost himself in speculations, mazy and confused enough to addle deeper
+heads. Perhaps he was puzzled to think how he could bring the Cabinet to
+see these things, or the importance that pertained to them; who knows? At
+all events, time glided on, and still he was alone. At length the
+aide-de-camp appeared, and with an air of some confusion, said,&mdash;&ldquo;It
+would appear, my Lord, that Mr. Nelligan has gone away.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Why, he never said good-night; he did n't take leave of me!&rdquo; said the
+Viceroy, smiling.
+</p>
+<p>
+The aide-de-camp slightly elevated his brows, as though to imply his sense
+of what it might not have become him to characterize in words.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Very strange, indeed!&rdquo; repeated his Excellency; &ldquo;is n't it, Belcour?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Very strange, indeed, your Excellency,&rdquo; said the other, bowing.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;There could have been no disrespect in it,&rdquo; said his Lordship,
+good-humoredly; &ldquo;of <i>that</i> I'm quite certain. Send Colonel
+Massingbred here.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;He's gone off, Massingbred,&rdquo; said the Viceroy, as the other appeared.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;So I have just learned, my Lord. I conclude he was not aware&mdash;that
+he was unacquainted with&mdash;&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Oh, of course, Massingbred,&rdquo; broke in the Viceroy, laughing, &ldquo;the fault
+is all with my predecessors in office; they never invited these men as
+they ought to have done. Have you sounded M'Casky as to the appointment?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yes, my Lord; he thinks 'we might do worse.'&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;A qualified approval, certainly. Perhaps he meant we might select
+himself!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I rather opine, my Lord, that he regards Nelligan's promotion as likely
+to give offence to Mr. O'Connell, unless that he be himself consulted upon
+it.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Then comes the question, Who is it governs this country, Colonel
+Massingbred?&rdquo; said the Marquis; and for the first time a flash of angry
+meaning darkened his cheeks. &ldquo;If I be here,&rdquo;&mdash;he stopped and
+hesitated,&mdash;&ldquo;if you and I be here only to ratify appointments made by
+irresponsible individuals,&mdash;if we hold the reins of power only to be
+told where we 're to drive to,&mdash;I must own the office is not very
+dignified, nor am I patient enough to think it endurable.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;M'Casky only suggested that it might be advisable to see O'Connell on the
+subject, not, as it were, to pass him over in conferring the appointment.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I cannot at all concur in this view, Massingbred,&rdquo; said the Marquis,
+proudly; &ldquo;there could be no such humiliation in the world as a patronage
+administered in this wise. Write to Nelligan; write to him to-night. Say
+that his abrupt departure alone prevented my making to him personally the
+offer of the solicitorship; add that you have my directions to place the
+office in his hands, and express a strong wish, on your own part, that he
+may not decline it.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Massingbred bowed in acquiescence, and after a pause his Excellency went
+on:&mdash;
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;There would be no objection to your adding something to the effect that
+my selection of him was prompted by motives in which party has no share;
+that his acknowledged eminence at the bar,&mdash;a character to which even
+political opponents bear honorable testimony,&mdash;in fact, Massingbred,&rdquo;
+ added he, impatiently, &ldquo;if the appointment should come to be questioned in
+the House, let us have it on record that we made it solely on motives
+directed to the public service. You understand me?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I think so, my Lord,&rdquo; said Massingbred, and withdrew.
+</p>
+<p>
+If it were not that other cares and other interests call us away, we would
+gladly linger a little longer to speculate on the Viceroy's thoughts as he
+reseated himself by the fire. His brow was overcast and his features
+clouded. Was it that he felt he had entered the lists, and thrown down the
+glove to a strong and resolute opponent? Had he before him a vista of the
+terrible conflict between expediency and honor that was soon to be his
+fate? Had he his doubts as to the support his own Cabinet would afford
+him? Was his pride the ruling sentiment of the moment, or did there enter
+into his calculations the subtle hope of all the eager expectancy this
+appointment would create, all the disposable venality it would lay at his
+discretion? Who can answer these questions? who solve these doubts? Is it
+not very possible that his mind wandered amidst them all? Is it not more
+than likely that they passed in review before him? for when he rejoined
+his company his manner was more absent, his courtesy less easy than usual.
+</p>
+<p>
+At length Mr. M'Casky came forward to say goodnight.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Colonel Massingbred has told you of those disturbances in the West, has
+he not?&rdquo; asked the Viceroy.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yes, my Lord,&rdquo; replied the other.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And what opinion&mdash;what advice did you give?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;To let matters alone, my Lord; to be always a little behind time,
+particularly in sending a force. 'Never despatch the police to quell a
+riot,' said John Toler, 'unless one of the factions be completely beaten,
+otherwise you 'll have them both on your back;' and I assure your
+Excellency, Ireland has been very successfully governed under that maxim
+for years past.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Thank you, M'Casky; thank you for the advice,&rdquo; said his Excellency,
+laughing, and wished him good-night.
+</p>
+<p>
+<a name="link2HCH0034" id="link2HCH0034">
+<!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+</p>
+<div style="height: 4em;">
+<br /><br /><br /><br />
+</div>
+<h2>
+CHAPTER XXXIV. AN HONORED GUEST
+</h2>
+<p>
+It was a time of unusual stir and bustle at the Martin Arms; the house was
+crammed with company. Messengers&mdash;some mounted, others on foot&mdash;came
+and went at every moment; horses stood ready saddled and harnessed in the
+stables, in waiting for any emergency; in fact, there was a degree of
+movement and animation only second to that of a contested election. In the
+midst of this confusion a chaise with four smoking posters drew up at the
+door, and a sharp, clear voice called out,&mdash;&ldquo;Morrissy, are my rooms
+ready?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;No, indeed, Mr. Repton,&rdquo; stammered out the abashed landlord; &ldquo;the house
+is full; there's not a spot in it to put a child in.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You got my letter, I suppose?&rdquo; said Repton, angrily.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I did, sir, but it was too late; the whole house was engaged by Mr.
+Scanlan, and the same evening the company arrived in two
+coaches-and-four.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And who is the precious company you speak of?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Mr. Merl, sir,&rdquo; said the other, dropping his voice to a whisper, &ldquo;the new
+owner of Cro' Martin; he's here, with two or three great lawyers and one
+or two of his friends. They came down to serve the notices and give
+warning&mdash;&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Well, what is to be done? where can I be accommodated?&rdquo; broke in Repton,
+hastily. &ldquo;Isn't Mr. Massing-bred in the house?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;No, sir, he had to move out, too; but, sure enough, he left a bit of a
+note for you in the bar.&rdquo; And he hastened off at once to fetch it.
+</p>
+<p>
+Repton broke open the seal impatiently, and read:&mdash;
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;My dear Mr. Repton,&mdash;I regret that you 'll find the inn full on your
+arrival; they turned me out yesterday to make room for Mr. Merl and his
+followers. Happily, Mr. Nelligan heard of my destitution, and offered me a
+quarter at his house. He also desires me to say that he will deem it a
+very great favor if you will accept the shelter of his roof, and in
+hopeful anticipation of your consenting, he will wait dinner for your
+arrival. From my own knowledge, I can safely assure you that the offer is
+made in a spirit of true hospitality, and I sincerely wish that you may
+accept it.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yours very faithfully,
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;J. Massingbred.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Where does Mr. Nelligan live?&rdquo; asked Repton, as he refolded the letter.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Just across the street, sir. There it is.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Set me down there, then,&rdquo; said Repton. And the next moment he was at
+Nelligan's door.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;This is a very great honor, sir,&rdquo; said old Dan, as he appeared in a suit
+of decorous black. &ldquo;It is, indeed, a proud day that gives me the pleasure
+of seeing you here.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;My dear sir, if you had no other distinction than being the father of
+Joseph Nelligan, the honor and the pride lie all in the opposite scale. I
+am sincerely glad to be your guest, and to know you where every true
+Irishman is seen to the greatest advantage,&mdash;at the head of his own
+board.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+While Nelligan conducted his guest to his room, he mentioned that
+Massingbred had ridden over to Cro' Martin early in the morning, but would
+be certainly back for dinner.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And what 's the news of Miss Martin? Is she better?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;They say not, sir. The last accounts are far from favorable.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Sir Henry Laurie saw her, did n't he?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yes, sir; he passed all Sunday here, and only returned to town yesterday.
+He spoke doubtfully,&mdash;I might even say, gloomily. He said, however,
+that we cannot know anything for certain before Friday or, perhaps,
+Saturday.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;It is fever, then?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yes, he told my wife, the worst character of typhus.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Brought on, as I've been told, by exposure to wet and cold on that night
+at sea. Is n't that the case?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I believe so. Mrs. Nelligan went over the next morning to the cottage.
+She had heard of poor Mr. Martin's death, and thought she might be of some
+use to Miss Mary; but when she arrived, it was to find her in fever,
+talking wildly, and insisting that she must be up and away to Kyle-a-Noe
+to look after a poor sick family there.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Has Mrs. Nelligan seen her since that?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;She never left her,&mdash;never quitted her. She relieves Henderson's
+daughter in watching beside her bed; for the old housekeeper is quite too
+infirm to bear the fatigue.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;What a sad change has come over this little spot, and in so brief a space
+too! It seems just like yesterday that I was a guest at Cro' Martin,&mdash;poor
+Martin himself so happy and light-hearted; his dear girl, as he called
+her, full of life and spirits. Your son was there the night I speak of. I
+remember it well, for the madcap girls would make a fool of me, and
+insisted on my singing them a song; and I shall not readily forget the
+shame my compliance inflicted on my learned brother's face.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Joe told me of it afterwards.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Ah, he told you, did he? He doubtless remarked with asperity on the
+little sense of my own dignity I possessed?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;On the contrary, sir, he said, 'Great as are Mr. Rep-ton's gifts, and
+brilliant as are his acquirements, I envy him more the happy buoyancy of
+his nature than all his other qualities.'&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;He's a fine fellow, and it was a generous speech; not but I will be vain
+enough to say he was right,&mdash;ay, sir, perfectly right. Of all the
+blessings that pertain to temperament, there is not one to compare with
+the spirit that renews in an old man the racy enjoyment of youth, keeps
+his heart fresh and his mind hopeful. With these, age brings no terrors. I
+shall be seventy-five, sir, if I live to the second of next month, and I
+have not lived long enough to dull the enjoyment life affords me, nor
+diminish the pleasure my heart derives upon hearing of a noble action or a
+generous sentiment.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Nelligan gazed at the speaker in mingled astonishment and admiration.
+Somehow, it was not altogether the man he had expected; but he was far
+from being disappointed at the difference. The Valentine Repton of his
+imagination was a crafty pleader, a subtle cross-examiner, an ingenious
+flatterer of juries; but he was not a man whose nature was assailable by
+anything &ldquo;not found in the books.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Now, though Nelligan was himself essentially a worldly man, he was touched
+by these traits of one whom he had regarded as a hardened old lawyer,
+distrustful and suspicious.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Ay, sir,&rdquo; said Repton, as, leaning on the other's arm, he entered the
+drawing-room, &ldquo;a wiser man than either of us has left it on record, that
+after a long life and much experience of the world, he met far more of
+good and noble qualities in mankind than of their opposite. Take my word
+for it, whenever we are inclined to the contrary opinion, the fault lies
+with ourselves.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+While they sat awaiting Massingbred's return, a servant entered with a
+note, which Nelligan, having read, handed over to Repton. It was very
+brief, and ran thus:&mdash;
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;My dear Mr. Nelligan,&mdash;Forgive my not appearing at dinner, and make
+my excuses to Mr. Repton, if he be with you, for I have just fallen in
+with Magennis, who insists on carrying me off to Barnagheela. You can
+understand, I 'm sure, that there are reasons why I could not well decline
+this invitation. Meanwhile, till to-morrow, at breakfast,
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I am yours,
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Jack Massingbred.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+If there was a little constraint on Nelligan's part at finding himself
+alone to do the honors to his distinguished guest, the feeling soon wore
+away, and a frank, hearty confidence was soon established between these
+two men, who up to the present moment had been following very different
+roads in life. Apart from a lurking soreness, the remnants of long-past
+bitterness, Nelligan's political opinions were fair and moderate, and
+agreed with Repton's now to a great extent. His views as to the people,
+their habits and their natures, were also strikingly just and true. He was
+not over-hopeful, nor was he despondent; too acute an observer to refer
+their faults to any single source, he regarded their complex, intricate
+characters as the consequence of many causes, the issue of many struggles.
+There was about all he said the calm judgment of a man desirous of truth;
+and yet, when he came to speak of the higher classes, the great country
+gentry, he displayed prejudices and mistakes quite incredible in one of
+his discernment. The old grudge of social disqualification had eaten deep
+into his heart, and, as Repton saw, it would take at least two generations
+of men, well-to-do and successful, to eradicate the sentiment.
+</p>
+<p>
+Nelligan was quick enough to see that these opinions of his were not
+shared by his guest, and said, &ldquo;I cannot expect, Mr. Repton, that you will
+join me in these views; you have seen these people always as an equal, if
+not their superior; they met <i>you</i> with their best faces and sweetest
+flatteries. Not so with us. They draw a line, as though to say, go on:
+make your fortunes; purchase estates; educate your children; send them to
+the universities with our own; teach them our ways, our instincts, our
+manners, and yet, at the end of all, you shall remain exactly where you
+began. You shall never be 'of us.'&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I am happy to say that I disagree with you,&rdquo; said Repton; &ldquo;I am a much
+older man than you, and I can draw, therefore, on a longer experience. Now
+the change that I myself have seen come over the tone and temper of the
+world since I was a boy is far more marvellous to me than all the
+new-fangled discoveries around us in steam and electricity. Why, sir, the
+man who now addresses you, born of an ancient stock, as good blood as any
+untitled gentleman of the land, was treated once as Jack Cade might be in
+a London drawing-room. The repute of liberal notions or politics at that
+day stamped you as a democrat and atheist If you sided with a popular
+measure, you were deemed capable of all the crimes of a 'Danton.'
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Do I not remember it!&mdash;Ay, as a student, young, ardent, and
+high-hearted, when I was summoned before the visitors of the university,
+and sternly asked by the dark-browed Lord Chancellor if I belonged to a
+society called the 'Friends of Ireland,' and on my acknowledging the fact,
+without inquiry, without examination, deprived of my scholarship, and sent
+back to my chambers, admonished to be more cautious, and menaced with
+expulsion. I had very little to live on in those days; my family had
+suffered great losses in fortune, and I disliked to be a burden to them. I
+took pupils, therefore, to assist me in my support. The Vice-Provost
+stepped in, however, and interdicted this. 'Young men,' he said, 'ran a
+greater chance of coming out of my hands followers of Paine than disciples
+of Newton.' I starved on till I was called to the bar. There fresh insults
+and mortifications met me. My name on a brief seemed a signal for a
+field-day against Jacobinism and infidelity. The very bench forgot its
+dignity in its zeal. I remember well one day, when, stung and maddened by
+these outrages, I so far forgot myself as to reply, and the Court of
+King's Bench was closed against me for twelve long years,&mdash;ay, till I
+came back to it as the first man in my profession. It was a trumpery
+cause,&mdash;I forget what; a suit about some petty bill of exchange. I
+disputed the evidence, and sought to show its invalidity. The Chief
+Justice stopped me, and said, 'The Court is aware of the point on which
+you rely; we have known evidence of this nature admitted in cases of trial
+for treason,&mdash;cases with which Mr. Repton, we know, is very familiar.
+I stopped; my blood boiled with indignation, my temples throbbed to
+bursting, to be thus singled out amongst my brethren&mdash;before the
+public&mdash;as a mark of scorn and reprobation. 'It is true, my Lord,'
+said I, with a slow, measured utterance, 'I am familiar with such cases.
+Who is there in this unhappy land that is not? I am aware, too, that if I
+stood in that dock arraigned on such a charge, your Lordship would rule
+that this evidence was admissible; you would charge against me, sentence,
+and hang me; but the present is an action for eleven pounds ten, and,
+therefore, I trust to your Lordship's lenity and mercy to reject it.'
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;That reply, sir, cost me twelve years of exile from the court wherein I
+uttered it. Those were times when the brow-beating judge could crush the
+bar; nor were the jury always safe in the sanctuary of the jury-box. Now,
+such abuses are no longer in existence; and if we have made no other
+stride in progress, even that is considerable.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;In all that regards the law and its administration, I am sure you are
+correct, sir,&rdquo; said Nelligan, submissively.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;At the period I speak of,&rdquo; resumed Repton, who now was only following out
+his own thoughts and reminiscences, &ldquo;the judges were little else than
+prefects, administering the country through the channel of the penal code,
+and the jury a set of vulgar partisans, who wielded the power of a verdict
+with all the caprice of a faction; and as to their ignorance, why, sir,
+Crookshank, who afterwards sat on the bench, used to tell of a trial for
+murder at Kells, where the 'murdered man' was two hours under
+cross-examination on the table! Yes, but that is not all; the jury retired
+to deliberate, and came out at length with a verdict of 'manslaughter,' as
+the prisoner was 'a bad fellow, and had once stolen a saddle from the
+foreman.' You talk of law and civilization; why, I tell you, sir, that the
+barbaric code of the red man is a higher agent of enlightenment than the
+boasted institutions of England, when thus perverted and degraded. No, no,
+Mr. Nelligan, it may be a fine theme for declamation, there may be grand
+descriptive capabilities about the Ireland of sixty or seventy years ago,
+but be assured, it was a social chaos of the worst kind; and as a maxim,
+sir, remember, that the inhabitants of a country are never so much to be
+pitied as when the aspect of their social condition is picturesque!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Repton fell into a musing fit when he had finished these observations, and
+Nelligan felt too much deference for his guest to disturb him, and they
+sat thus silent for some time, when the old lawyer suddenly arousing
+himself, said,&mdash;&ldquo;What's all this I hear about disturbances, and
+attacks on the police, down here?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;There's nothing political in it,&rdquo; rejoined Nelligan. &ldquo;It was resistance
+offered by the people to the service of certain notices on the part of
+this London Jew&mdash;Merl, I think they call him.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yes, that's the name,&rdquo; quickly responded Repton. &ldquo;You are aware of the
+circumstances under which he claims the estate?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I had it from Brierley, who was told by Scanlan, that he purchased, or
+rather won at play, the entire and sole reversion.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Repton nodded.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And such is a legal compact, I presume?&rdquo; said Nelligan.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;If the immoral obligation be well concealed in the negotiation, I don't
+see how it is to be broken. The law, sir,&rdquo; added he, solemnly, &ldquo;never
+undertakes the charge of fools till a commission be taken out in their
+behalf! This young fellow's pleasure it was to squander his succession to
+a princely estate, and he chanced to meet with one who could appreciate
+his intentions.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Massingbred told me, however, that some arrangement, some compromise was
+in contemplation; that Merl, knowing that to enforce his claim would
+subject him to a trial and all its disclosures, had shown a disposition to
+treat; in fact, Massingbred has already had an interview with him, and but
+for Scanlan, who desires to push matters to extremity, the affair might
+possibly be accommodated.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;The Jew possibly sees, too, that an Irish succession is not a bloodless
+triumph. He has been frightened, I have no doubt.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I believe so; they say he took to his bed the day he got back here, and
+has never quitted it since. The people hunted them for four miles across
+the country, and as Merl couldn't leap his horse over the walls, they were
+several times nearly caught by the delay in making gaps for him.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I'd have given fifty pounds to be in at it,&rdquo; broke out Repton. Then
+suddenly remembering that the aspiration did not sound as very dignified,
+he hemmed and corrected himself, saying, &ldquo;It must, indeed, have been a
+strange spectacle!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;They started at Kyle's Wood, and ran them over the low grounds beside
+Kelly's Mills, and then doubling, brought them along the foot of
+Barnagheela Mountain, where, it seems, Magennis joined the chase; he was
+fast closing with them when his gun burst, and rather damaged his hand.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;He fired, then?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+<a name="linkimage-0015" id="linkimage-0015">
+<!-- IMG --></a>
+</p>
+<div class="fig" style="width:80%;">
+<img src="images/368.jpg" width="100%" alt="368 " />
+</div>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yes, he put a heavy charge of slugs into Merl's horse as he was getting
+through the mill-race, and the beast flung up and threw his rider into the
+stream. Scanlan dismounted and gathered him up, discharging his pistol at
+some country fellow who was rushing forward; they say the man has lost an
+eye. They got off, however, and, gaining the shelter of the Cro' Martin
+wood, they managed to escape at last, and reached this about six o'clock,
+their clothes in tatters, their horses lamed, and themselves lamentable
+objects of fatigue and exhaustion. Since that, no one but the doctor has
+seen Merl, and Scanlan only goes out with an escort of police.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;All this sounds very like 'sixty years ago,'&rdquo; said Repton, laughing.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I'm afraid it does, and I half dread what the English newspapers may say
+under the heading of 'Galway Barbarities.'&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;By Jove! I must say I like it; that is,&rdquo; said Repton, hesitating and
+confused, &ldquo;I can see some palliation for the people in such an outburst of
+generous but misdirected feeling. The old name has still its spell for
+their hearts; and even superstitions, sir, are better than incredulity!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;But of what avail is all this? The law must and will be vindicated. It
+may cost some lives, on the road, but Mr. Merl must reach his journey's
+end, at last.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;He may deem the sport, as I have known some men do tiger-hunting, not
+worth the danger,&rdquo; said Repton. &ldquo;You and I, Mr. Nelligan, acclimated, as I
+may say, to such incidents, would probably not decline the title to an
+estate, whose first step in possession should be enforced by the
+blunderbuss; but make the scene Africa, and say what extent of territory
+would you accept of, on the compact of enforcing your claim against the
+natives? Now, for all the purposes of argument, to this cockney's
+appreciation, these countrymen of ours are Africans.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I can well understand his terror,&rdquo; said Nelligan, thoughtfully. &ldquo;I 'm
+sure the yell that followed him through the gap of Kyle-a-Noe will ring in
+his heart for many a day. It was there the pursuit was hottest. As they
+came out, a stranger, who had been here during the winter,&mdash;a Mr.
+Barry&mdash;&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;What of <i>him?</i> What did <i>he</i> do?&rdquo; broke in Repton, with great
+eagerness.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;He stood upon an old wall, and hurrahed the people on, calling out, 'Five
+gold guineas to the man who will hurl that fellow into the lake.'&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;He said that?&rdquo; cried Repton.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yes, and waved his hat in encouragement to the mob! This was deposed in
+evidence before the bench; and Scanlan's affidavit went on to say, that
+when the temper of the people seemed to relent, and the ardor of their
+pursuit to relax, this man's presence invariably rallied all the energies
+of mischief, and excited the wildest passions of the populace.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Who or what is he supposed to be?&rdquo; asked the lawyer.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Some say, a returned convict,&mdash;a banker that was transported thirty
+years ago for forgery; others, that he is Con O'Hara, that killed Major
+Stackpoole in the famous duel at Bunratty Castle. Magennis swears that he
+remembers the face well; at all events, there is a mystery about him, and
+when he came into the shop below stairs&mdash;&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Oh, then, you have seen him yourself?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yes; he came in on Monday last, and asked for some glazed gunpowder, and
+if we had bullets of a large mould to fit his pistols. They were
+curiosities in their way; they were made in America, and had a bore large
+as your thumb.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You had some conversation with him?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;A few words about the country and the crops. He said he thought we had
+good prospects for the wheat, and, if we should have a fine harvest, a
+good winter was like to follow. Meaning that, with enough to eat, we
+should have fewer outrages in the dark nights, and by that I knew he was
+one acquainted with the country. I said as much, and then he turned
+fiercely on me, and remarked, 'I never questioned you, sir, about your
+hides and tallow and ten-penny nails, for they were <i>your</i> affairs;
+please, then, to pay the same deference to <i>me</i> and <i>mine</i>.' And
+before I could reply he was gone.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;It was a rude speech,&rdquo; said Repton, thoughtfully; &ldquo;but many men are
+morose from circumstances whose natures are full of kindliness and
+gentleness.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;It was precisely the impression this stranger made upon me. There was
+that in his manner which implied a hard lot in life,&mdash;no small share
+of the shadiest side of fortune; and even when his somewhat coarse rebuke
+was uttered, I was more disposed to be angry with myself for being the
+cause than with him who made it.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Where is he stopping just now?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;At Kilkieran, I have heard; but he has been repeatedly back and forward
+in the town here during the week, though for the last few days I have not
+seen him. Perhaps he has heard of Scanlan's intention to summons him for
+aiding and abetting an assault, and has kept out of the way in
+consequence.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;<i>He</i> keep out of the way!&rdquo; cried Repton; &ldquo;you never mistook a man
+more in your life!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You are acquainted with him, then?&rdquo; said Nelligan, in amazement.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;That am I, sir. No one knows him better, and on my knowledge of the man
+it was that I apologized for his incivility to yourself. If I cannot say
+more, Mr. Nelligan, it is not because I have any mistrust in your
+confidence, but that my friend's secret is, in his own charge, and only to
+be revealed at his own pleasure.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I wish you would tell him that I never meant to play the spy upon him,&mdash;that
+my remark was a merely chance observation&mdash;&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I promise you to do so,&rdquo; broke in Repton. &ldquo;I promise you still more, that
+before he leaves this you shall have an apology from his own lips for his
+accidental rudeness; nay, two men that would know how to respect each
+other should never part under even a passing misunderstanding. It is an
+old theory of mine, Mr. Nelligan, that good men's good opinions of us form
+the pleasantest store of our reminiscences, and I 'd willingly go a
+hundred miles to remove a misconception that might bring me back to the
+esteem of an honorable heart, though I never were to set eyes again on him
+who possessed it.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I like your theory well, sir,&rdquo; said Nelligan, cordially.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You 'll find the practice will reward you,&rdquo; said Repton.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I confess this stranger has inspired me with great curiosity.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I can well understand the feeling,&rdquo; said Repton, musing. &ldquo;It is with men
+as with certain spots in landscape, there are chance glimpses which
+suggest to us the fair scenes that lie beyond our view! Poor fellow! poor
+fellow!&rdquo; muttered he once or twice to himself; and then starting abruptly,
+said, &ldquo;You have made me so cordially welcome here that I am going to
+profit by every privilege of a guest. I 'm going to say good-night, for I
+have much before me on the morrow.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+<a name="link2HCH0035" id="link2HCH0035">
+<!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+</p>
+<div style="height: 4em;">
+<br /><br /><br /><br />
+</div>
+<h2>
+CHAPTER XXXV. HOW DIPLOMACY FAILED
+</h2>
+<p>
+Repton was up at daybreak, and at his desk. Immense folios littered the
+table, and even the floor around him, and the old lawyer sat amidst a
+chaos that it was difficult to believe was only the growth of an hour or
+two. All the intentness of his occupation, however, did not prevent him
+hearing a well-known voice in the little stable-yard beneath his window,
+and opening the sash he called out, &ldquo;Mas-singbred, is that you?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Ah, Mr. Repton, are you stirring so early? I had not expected to see you
+for at least two hours to come. May I join you?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;By all means; at once,&rdquo; was the answer. And the next moment they were
+together. &ldquo;Where's Barry? When did you see him last?&rdquo; was Repton's first
+question.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;For a moment, on Tuesday last; he came up here to learn if you had
+arrived, or when you might be expected. He seemed disappointed when I said
+not before the latter end of the week, and muttered something about being
+too late. He seemed flurried and excited. I heard afterwards that he had
+been somehow mixed up with that tumultuous assemblage that resisted the
+police, and I offered to go back with him to Kilkieran, but he stopped me
+short, saying, 'I am not at Kilkieran;' and so abruptly as to show that my
+proposal was not acceptable. He then sat down and wrote a short letter,
+which he desired me to give you on arriving; but to deliver it with my own
+hand, as, if any reply were necessary, I should be ready to carry it to
+him. This is the letter.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Repton read it rapidly, and then, walking to the window, stood pondering
+over the contents.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You know this man Merl, don't you, Massingbred?&rdquo; asked Repton.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yes, thoroughly.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;The object of this letter is to try one last chance for an arrangement.
+Barry suspects that the Jew's ambition for Irish proprietorship may have
+been somewhat dashed by the experience of the last few days; that he will
+be likely enough to weigh the advantages and disadvantages with a juster
+appreciation than if he had never come here, and, if such be the case, we
+are ready to meet with a fair and equitable offer. We'll repay him all
+that he advanced in cash to young Martin, and all that he won from him at
+play, if he surrender his reversionary claim. We'll ask no questions as to
+how this loan was made, or how that debt incurred. It shall be the
+briefest of all transactions,&mdash;a sum in simple addition, and a check
+for the total.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;He'll refuse,&mdash;flatly refuse it,&rdquo; said Massingbred. &ldquo;The very offer
+will restore any confidence the last few days may have shaken; he'll judge
+the matter like the shares of a stock that are quoted higher in the
+market.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You think so?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I'm sure of it. I'm ashamed to say, Mr. Repton, that my knowledge of the
+Herman Merl class may be greater than yours. It is the one solitary point
+in the realm of information wherein I am probably your superior.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;There are others, and of a very different order, in which I would own you
+the master,&rdquo; said Repton. &ldquo;But to our case. Suppose,&mdash;a mere
+supposition, if you like,&mdash;but suppose that it could be demonstrated
+to Mr. Merl that his claim will be not only resisted, but defeated; that
+the right on which he relies is valueless,&mdash;the deed not worth the
+stamps it bears; that this offer is made to avoid a publicity and exposure
+far more injurious to him than to those who now shrink from it. What think
+you then?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Simply that he'd not believe it! He'd say, and many others would say, 'If
+the right lay so incontestably with these others, they 'd not give some
+twenty thousand pounds to compromise what they could enforce for the mere
+cost of a trial.'&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Mr. Massingbred, too, would perhaps take the same view of the
+transaction,&rdquo; said Repton, half tartly.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Not if Mr. Repton assured me that he backed the opposite opinion,&rdquo; said
+Jack, politely.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I thank you heartily for that speech,&rdquo; said the old man, as he grasped
+the other's hand cordially; &ldquo;you deserve, and shall have my fullest
+confidence.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;May I ask,&rdquo; said Jack, &ldquo;if this offer to buy off Merl be made in the
+interest of the Martins, for otherwise I really see no great object, so
+far as they are concerned, in the change of mastery?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You'll have to take <i>my</i> word for that,&rdquo; said Repton, &ldquo;or rather, to
+take the part I assume in this transaction as the evidence of it; and now,
+as I see that you are satisfied, will you accept of the duty of this
+negotiation? Will you see and speak with Merl? Urge upon him all the
+arguments your own ingenuity will furnish, and when you come, if you
+should be so driven, to the coercive category, and that you want the siege
+artillery, then send for <i>me</i>. Depend upon it, it will be no <i>brutum
+fulmen</i> that I 'll bring up; nor will I, as Pelham said, fire with
+'government powder.' My cannon shall be inscribed, like those of the old
+volunteers, independence or&mdash;&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+At any other moment Jack might have smiled at the haughty air and martial
+stride of the old man, as, stimulated by his words, he paced the room; but
+there was a sincerity and a resolution about him that offered no scope for
+ridicule. His very features wore a look of intrepidity that bespoke the
+courage that animated him.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Now, Massingbred,&rdquo; said he, laying his hand on the young man's arm, &ldquo;it
+is only because I am not free to tell another man's secret that I do not
+at once place you fully in possession of all I myself know of this
+transaction; but rely on it, you shall be informed on every point, and
+immediately after the issue of this negotiation with Merl, whatever be the
+result, you shall stand on the same footing with myself.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You cannot suppose that I exact this confidence?&rdquo; began Jack.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I only know it is your due, sir,&rdquo; said Repton. &ldquo;Go now,&mdash;it is not
+too early; see this man, and let the meeting be of the briefest, for if I
+were to tell you my own mind, I'd say I'd rather he should reject our
+offer.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You are, I own, a little incomprehensible this morning,&rdquo; said
+Massingbred, &ldquo;but I am determined to yield you a blind obedience; and so
+I'm off.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I 'll wait breakfast for you,&rdquo; said Repton, as he reseated himself to his
+work.
+</p>
+<p>
+Repton requested Mr. Nelligan's permission to have his breakfast served in
+his own room, and sat for a long time impatiently awaiting Massingbred's
+return. He was at one time aroused by a noise below stairs, but it was not
+the announcement of him he looked for; and he walked anxiously to and fro
+in his chamber, each moment adding to the uneasiness that he felt.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Who was it that arrived half an hour ago?&rdquo; asked he of the servant.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Mr. Joe, sir, the counsellor, has just come from Dublin, and is at
+breakfast with the master.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Ah! he 's come, is he? So much the better,&rdquo; muttered Repton, &ldquo;we may want
+his calm, clear head to assist us here; not that we shall have to fear a
+contest,&mdash;there is no enemy in the field,&mdash;and if there were,
+Val Repton is ready to meet him!&rdquo; And the old man crossed his arms, and
+stood erect in all the consciousness of his undiminished vigor. &ldquo;Here he
+comes at last,&mdash;I know his step on the stair.&rdquo; And he flung open the
+door for Massingbred.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I read failure in your flushed cheek, Massingbred; failure and anger
+both, eh?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Massingbred tried to smile. If there was any quality on which he
+especially prided himself, it was the bland semblance of equanimity he
+could assume in circumstances of difficulty and irritation. It was his
+boast to be able to hide his most intense emotions at moments of passion,
+and there was a period in which, indeed, he wielded this acquirement. Of
+later times, however, he had grown more natural and impulsive; he had not
+yet lost the sense of pain this yielding occasioned, and it was with
+evident irritation that he found Repton had read his thoughts.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You perceive, then, that I am unsuccessful?&rdquo; said he, with a faint smile.
+&ldquo;So much the better if my face betrays me; it will save a world of
+explanation!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Make your report, sir, and I'll make the tea,&rdquo; said Repton, as he
+proceeded to that office.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;The fellow was in bed,&mdash;he refused to see me, and it was only by
+some insistence that I succeeded in gaining admittance. He has had leeches
+to his temples. He was bruised, it seems, when he fell, but far more
+frightened than hurt. He looks the very picture of terror, and lies with a
+perfect armory of pistols beside his bed. Scanlan was there, and thought
+to remain during our interview; but I insisted on his withdrawing, and he
+went. The amiable attorney, somehow, has a kind of respect for me that is
+rather amusing. As for Merl, he broke out into a vulgar tirade of passion,
+abused the country and the people, cursed the hour he came amongst them,
+and said, if he only knew the nature of the property before he made his
+investment, he 'd rather have purchased Guatemala bonds, or Santa Fé
+securities.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;'Then I have come fortunately,' said I, 'for I bring you an offer to
+reimburse all your outlay, and to rid you of a charge so little to your
+inclination.'
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;'Oh! you do, do you?' said he, with one of his cunningest leers. 'You may
+not be able, perhaps, to effect that bargain, though. It's one thing to
+pay down a smart sum of money and wait your time for recovering it, and
+it's another to surrender your compact when the hour of acquisition has
+arrived. I bought this reversion&mdash;at least, I paid the first
+instalment of the price&mdash;four years ago, when the late man's life was
+worth twenty years' purchase. Well, he 's gone now, and do you think that
+I 'm going to give up my claim for what it cost me?'
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I gently insinuated that the investigation of the claim might lead to
+unpleasant revelations. There were various incidents of the play-table,
+feasible and successful enough after a supper with champagne, and in the
+short hours before day, which came off with an ill-grace on the table of a
+court of justice, with three barons of the exchequer to witness them. That
+I myself might prove an awkward evidence, if unhappily cited to appear;
+that of my own knowledge I could mention three young fellows of good
+fortune who had been drained to their last shilling in his company. In
+fact, we were both remarkably candid with each other, and while <i>I</i>
+reminded <i>him</i> of some dark passages at <i>écarté, he</i> brought to
+<i>my</i> memory certain protested bills and dishonored notes that 'non
+jucundum esset meminisse.' I must say, for both of us, we did the thing
+well, and in good breeding; we told and listened to our several
+shortcomings with a temper that might have graced a better cause, and I
+defy the world to produce two men who could have exchanged the epithets of
+swindler and scamp with more thorough calm and good manners. Unhappily,
+however, high as one rises in his own esteem by such contests, he scarcely
+makes the same ascent in that of his neighbor, and so we came, in our
+overflowing frankness, to admit to each other more of our respective
+opinions than amounts to flattery. I believe, and, indeed, I hope, I
+should have maintained my temper to the end, had not the fellow pretty
+broadly insinuated that some motive of personal advantage had prompted my
+interference, and actually pushed his insolence so far as to insinuate
+that 'I should make a better thing' by adhering to his fortunes.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Repton started at these words, and Massingbred resumed: &ldquo;True, upon my
+honor; I exaggerate nothing. It was a gross outrage, and very difficult to
+put up with; so I just expressed my sincere regret that instead of being
+in bed he was not up and stirring, inasmuch as I should have tried what
+change of air might have done for him, by pitching him out of the window.
+He tugged violently at the bell-rope, as though I were about to execute my
+menace, and so I left him. My diplomacy has, therefore, been a sad
+failure. I only hope that I may not have increased the difficulty of the
+case by my treatment of it.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You never thought of <i>me</i> at all, then?&rdquo; asked Repton.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Never, till I was once more in the street; then I remembered something of
+what you said about coercive means, but of what avail a mere menace? This
+fellow is not new to such transactions,&mdash;he has gone through all the
+phases of 'bulleydom.' Besides, there is a dash of Shylock in every Jew
+that ever breathed. They will 'have their bond,' unless it can be
+distinctly proved to them that the thing is impossible.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Now then for our breaching battery,&rdquo; said Repton, rising and pacing the
+room. &ldquo;This attempt at a compromise never had any favor in my eyes; Barry
+wished it, and I yielded. Now for a very different course. Can you find a
+saddle-horse here? Well, then, be ready to set out in half an hour, and
+search out Barry for me. He'll be found at Kilkieran, or the neighborhood;
+say we must meet at once; arrange time and place for the conference, and
+come back to me.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Repton issued his directions with an air of command, and Massingbred
+prepared as implicitly to obey them.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Mr. Nelligan has lent me his own pad,&rdquo; said Massingbred, entering soon
+after, &ldquo;and his son will accompany me, so that I am at your orders at
+once.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;There are your despatches,&rdquo; said Repton, giving him a sealed packet. &ldquo;Let
+me see you here as soon as may be.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+<a name="link2HCH0036" id="link2HCH0036">
+<!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+</p>
+<div style="height: 4em;">
+<br /><br /><br /><br />
+</div>
+<h2>
+CHAPTER XXXVI. A GREAT DISCOVERY
+</h2>
+<p>
+About an hour after Massingbred's departure for Kilkieran, Mr. Repton set
+out for Cro' Martin Castle. The inn had furnished him its best chaise and
+four of its primest horses; and had the old lawyer been disposed to enjoy
+the pleasure which a great moralist has rated so highly, of rapid motion
+through the air, he might have been gratified on that occasion. Unhappily,
+however, he was not so minded. Many and very serious cares pressed upon
+him. He was travelling a road, too, which he had so often journeyed in
+high spirits, fancying to himself the pleasant welcome before him, and
+even rehearsing to his own mind the stores of agreeability he was to
+display,&mdash;and now it was to a deserted mansion, lonely and desolate,
+he was turning! Death and ruin both had done their work on that ancient
+family, whose very name in the land seemed already hastening to oblivion!
+</p>
+<p>
+Few men could resist the influence of depression better than Repton. It
+was not alone that his temperament was still buoyant and energetic, but
+the habits of his profession had taught him the necessity of being
+prepared for emergencies, and he would have felt it a dereliction of duty
+were his sentiments to overmaster his power of action.
+</p>
+<p>
+Still, as he went along, the well-known features of the spot would recall
+memories of the past. There lay a dense wood, of which he remembered the
+very day, the very hour, poor Martin had commenced the planting. There was
+the little trout-stream, where, under pretence of fishing, he had lounged
+along the summer day, with Horace for his companion; that, the
+school-house Mary had sketched, and built out of her own pocket-money. And
+now the great massive gates slowly opened, and they were within the
+demesne,&mdash;all silent and noiseless. As they came in sight of the
+castle, Repton covered his face with his hands, and sat for some minutes
+thus. Then, as if mastering his emotion, he raised his head and folded his
+arms on his chest.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You are true to time, I perceive, Dr. Leslie,&rdquo; said he, as the chaise
+stopped at the door and the venerable clergyman came forward to greet him.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I got your note last night, sir, but I determined not to keep you
+waiting, for I perceive you say that time is precious now.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I thank you heartily,&rdquo; said Repton, as he shook the other's hand. &ldquo;I am
+grateful to you also for being here to meet me, for I begin to feel my
+courage fail me as to crossing that threshold again!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Age has its penalties as well as its blessings, sir,&rdquo; said Leslie, &ldquo;and
+amongst these is to outlive those dear to us!&rdquo; There was a painful
+significance to his own desolate condition that made these words doubly
+impressive.
+</p>
+<p>
+Repton made no reply, but pulled the bell strongly; and the loud, deep
+sounds rung out clearly through the silent house. After a brief interval a
+small window above the door was opened, and a man with a blunderbuss in
+his hand sternly demanded their business.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Oh, I ax pardon, sir,&rdquo; said he, as suddenly correcting himself. &ldquo;I
+thought it was that man that 's come to take the place,&mdash;'the Jew,'
+they call him,&mdash;and Mr. Magennis said I was n't to let him in, or one
+belonging to him.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;No, Barney, we are not his friends,&rdquo; said Dr. Leslie; &ldquo;this is Mr.
+Repton.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Sure I know the Counsellor well, sir,&rdquo; said Barney. &ldquo;I 'll be down in a
+minute and open the door.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I must go to work at once,&rdquo; said Repton, in a low and somewhat broken
+voice, &ldquo;or this place will be too much for me. Every step I go is calling
+up old times and old scenes. I had thought my heart was of sterner stuff.
+Isn't this the way to the library? No, not that way,&mdash;that was poor
+Martin's own breakfast-room!&rdquo; He spoke hurriedly, like one who wished to
+suppress emotion by very activity of thought.
+</p>
+<p>
+While the man who conducted them opened the window-shutters and the
+windows, Repton and his companion sat down without speaking. At last he
+withdrew, and Repton, rising, said,&mdash;&ldquo;Some of the happiest hours of
+my life were passed in this same room. I used to come up here after the
+fatigues of circuit, and, throwing myself into one of those easy-chairs,
+dream away for a day or two, gazing out on that bold mountain yonder,
+above the trees, and wondering how those fellows who never relaxed, in
+this wise, could sustain the wear and tear of life; for that junketing to
+Harrow-gate, that rattling, noisy steamboating up the Rhine, that Cockney
+heroism of Swiss travel, is my aversion. The calm forenoon for thought,
+the pleasant dinner-table for genial enjoyment afterwards,&mdash;these are
+true recreations. And what evenings we have had here! But I must not dwell
+on these.&rdquo; And now he threw upon the table a mass of papers and letters,
+amongst which he sought out one, from which he took a small key. &ldquo;Dr.
+Leslie,&rdquo; said he, &ldquo;you might have been assured that I have not called upon
+you to meet me to-day without a sufficient reason. I know that, from
+certain causes, of which I am not well informed, you were not on terms of
+much intimacy with my poor friend here. This is not a time to think of
+these things; <i>you</i>, I am well assured, will never remember them.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Leslie made a motion of assent; and the other went on, his voice gradually
+gaining in strength and fulness, and his whole manner by degrees assuming
+the characteristic of the lawyer.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;To the few questions to which I will ask your answers, now, I have to
+request all your attention. They are of great importance; they may, very
+probably, be re-asked of you under more solemn circumstances; and I have
+to bespeak, not alone all your accuracy for the replies, but that you may
+be able, if asked, to state the manner and even the words in which I now
+address you.&mdash;You have been the incumbent of this parish for a length
+of time,&mdash;what number of years?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Sixty-three. I was appointed to the vicarage on my ordination, and never
+held any other charge.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You knew the late Darcy Martin, father of the last proprietor of this
+estate?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Intimately.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You baptized his two children, born at the same birth. State what you
+remember of the circumstance.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I was sent for to the castle to give a private baptism to the two
+infants, and requested that I would bring the vestry-book along with me
+for the registration. I did so. The children were accordingly christened,
+and their births duly registered and witnessed.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Can you remember the names by which they were called?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Not from the incident in question, though I know the names from
+subsequent knowledge of them, as they grew up to manhood.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;What means, if any, were adopted at the time to distinguish the priority
+of birth?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;The eldest was first baptized, and his birth specially entered in the
+vestry-book as such; all the witnesses who signed the entry corroborating
+the fact by special mention of it under their signature. We also heard
+that the child wore a gold bracelet on one arm; but I did not remark it.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You have this vestry-book in your keeping?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;No; Mr. Martin retained it, with some object of more formal registration.
+I repeatedly asked for it, but never could obtain it. At length some
+coolness grew up between us, and I could not, or did not wish to press my
+demand; and at last it lapsed entirely from my memory, so that from that
+day I never saw it.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You could, however, recognize it, and be able to verify your signature?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Certainly.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Was there, so far as you could see, any marked distinction made between
+the children while yet young?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I can remember that at the age of three or four the eldest boy wore a
+piece of red or blue ribbon on his sleeve; but any other mark I never
+observed. They were treated, so far as I could perceive, precisely alike;
+and their resemblance to each other was then so striking, it would have
+been a matter of great nicety to distinguish them. Even at school, I am
+told, mistakes constantly occurred, and one boy once received the
+punishment incurred by the other.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;As they grew up, you came to recognize the eldest by his name?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yes. Old Mr. Darcy Martin used to take the elder boy more about with him.
+He was then a child of ten or eleven years old. He was particular in
+calling attention to him, saying, 'This fellow is to be my heir; he 'll be
+the Martin of Cro' Martin yet'&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And what name did the boy bear?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Godfrey,&mdash;Godfrey Martin. The second boy's name was Barry.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You are sure of this?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Quite sure. I have dined a number of times at the castle, when Godfrey
+was called in after dinner, and the other boy was generally in disgrace;
+and I could remark that his father spoke of him in a tone of irritation
+and bitterness, which he did not employ towards the other.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Mr. Martin died before his sons came of age?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yes; they were only nineteen at his death.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;He made a will, I believe, to which you were a witness?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I was; but somehow the will was lost or mislaid, and it was only by a
+letter to the Honorable Colonel Forbes, of Lisvally, that Martin's
+intentions about appointing him guardian to his elder boy were
+ascertained. I myself was named guardian to the second son, an office of
+which he soon relieved me by going abroad, and never returned for a number
+of years.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Godfrey Martin then succeeded to the estate in due course?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yes, and we were very intimate for a time, till after his marriage, when
+estrangement grew up between us, and at last we ceased to visit at all.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Were the brothers supposed to be on good terms with each other?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I have heard two opposite versions on that subject. My own impression was
+that Lady Dorothea disliked Barry Martin, who had made a marriage that was
+considered beneath him; and then his brother was, from easiness of
+disposition, gradually weaned of his old affection for him. Many thought
+Barry, with all his faults, the better-hearted of the two.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Can you tell what ultimately became of this Barry Martin?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I only know, from common report, that after the death of his wife, having
+given his infant child, a girl, in charge to his brother, he engaged in
+the service of some of the Southern American Republics, and is supposed
+yet to be living there,&mdash;some say in great affluence; others, that he
+is utterly ruined by a failure in a mining speculation. The last time I
+ever heard Godfrey speak of him was in terms of sincere affection, adding
+the words, 'Poor Barry will befriend every one but himself.'&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;So that he never returned?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I believe not; at least I never heard of it.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I have written down these questions and your answers to them,&rdquo; said
+Repton; &ldquo;will you read them over, and if you find them correct, append
+your signature. I am expecting Mr. Nelligan here, and I 'll go and see if
+there be any sign of his arrival.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Repton just reached the door as Mr. Nelligan drove up to it.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;All goes on well and promptly to-day,&rdquo; said the old lawyer. &ldquo;I have got
+through a good deal of business already, and I expect to do as much more
+ere evening sets in. I have asked you to be present, as a magistrate,
+while I examine the contents of a certain closet in this house. I am led
+to believe that very important documents are deposited there, and it is in
+your presence, and that of Mr. Leslie, I purpose to make the inquiry.
+Before I do so, however, I will entreat your attention to a number of
+questions, and the answers to them, which will be read out to you. You
+will then be in a better position to judge of any discovery which the
+present investigation may reveal. All this sounds enigmatically enough,
+Mr. Nelligan; but you will extend your patience to me for a short while,
+and I hope to repay it.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Nelligan bowed in silence, and followed him into the house.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;There,&rdquo; said Mr. Leslie, &ldquo;I have written my name to that paper; it is, so
+far as I can see, perfectly correct.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Now, let me read it for Mr. Nelligan,&rdquo; said Repton; and, without further
+preface, recited aloud the contents of the document. &ldquo;I conclude, sir,&rdquo;
+ said he, as he finished, &ldquo;that there is nothing in what you have just
+heard very new or very strange to your ears. You knew before that Darcy
+Martin had two sons; that they were twins; and that one of them, Godfrey,
+inherited the estate. You may also have heard something of the brother's
+history; more, perhaps, than is here alluded to.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I have always heard him spoken of as a wild, reckless fellow, and that it
+was a piece of special good fortune he was not born to the property, or he
+had squandered every shilling of it,&rdquo; said Nelligan.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; said Leslie, &ldquo;such was the character he bore.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;That will do,&rdquo; said Repton, rising. &ldquo;Now, gentlemen, I'm about to unlock
+this cabinet, and, if I be correctly informed, we shall find the
+vestry-book with the entries spoken of by Mr. Leslie, and the long missing
+will of Darcy Martin. Such, I repeat, are the objects I expect to
+discover; and it is in your presence I proceed to this examination.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+In some astonishment at his words, the others followed him to the corner
+of the room, where, half concealed in the wainscot, a small door was at
+length discovered, unlocking which, Repton and the others entered a little
+chamber, lighted by a narrow, loopholed window. Not stopping to examine
+the shelves loaded with old documents and account-books, Repton walked
+straight to a small ebony cabinet, on a bracket, opening which, he drew
+forth a square vellum-bound book, with massive clasps.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;The old vestry-book. I know it well,&rdquo; said Leslie.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Here are the documents in parchment,&rdquo; continued Repton, &ldquo;and a sealed
+paper. What are the lines in the corner, Mr. Nelligan,&mdash;your eyes are
+better than mine?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;'Agreement between Godfrey and Barry Martin. To be opened by whichever
+shall survive the other.' The initials of each are underneath.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;With this we have no concern,&rdquo; said Repton; &ldquo;our business lies with
+these.&rdquo; And he pointed to the vestry-book. &ldquo;Let us look for the entry you
+spoke of.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;It is easily found,&rdquo; said Leslie. &ldquo;It was the last ever made in that
+book. Here it is.&rdquo; And he read aloud: &ldquo;'February 8th, 1772. Privately
+baptized, at Cro' Martin Castle, by me, Henry Leslie, Incumbent and Vicar
+of the said parish, Barry and Godfrey, sons of Darcy Martin and Eleanor
+his wife, both born on the fourth day of the aforesaid month; and, for the
+better discrimination of their priority in age, it is hereby added that
+Barry Martin is the elder, and Godfrey the second son, to which fact the
+following are attesting witnesses: Michael Keirn, house-steward; George
+Dorcas, butler; and Catharine Broon, maid of still-room.'&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Is that in your handwriting, sir?&rdquo; asked Repton.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yes, every word of it, except the superscription of the witnesses.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Why, then it would appear that the eldest son never enjoyed his rights,&rdquo;
+ cried Nelligan. &ldquo;Is that possible?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;It is the strict truth, sir,&rdquo; said Repton. &ldquo;The whole history of the case
+adds one to the thousand instances of the miserable failures men make who
+seek by the indulgence of their own caprices to obstruct the decrees of
+Providence. Darcy Martin died in the belief that he had so succeeded; and
+here, now, after more than half a century, are the evidences which reverse
+his whole policy, and subvert all his plans.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;But what could have been the object here?&rdquo; asked Nelligan.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Simply his preference for the younger-born. No sooner had the children
+arrived at that time of life when dispositions display themselves, than he
+singled out Godfrey as his favorite. He distinguished him in every way,
+and as markedly showed that he felt little affection for the other.
+Whether this favoritism, so openly expressed, had its influence on the
+rest of the household, or that really they grew to believe that the boy
+thus selected for peculiar honor was the heir, it would be very difficult
+now to say. Each cause may have contributed its share; all we know is,
+that when sent to Dr. Harley's school, at Oughterard, Godfrey was called
+the elder, and distinguished as such by a bit of red ribbon in his
+button-hole. And thus they grew up to youth and manhood,&mdash;the one
+flattered, indulged, and caressed; the other equally depreciated and
+undervalued. Men are, in a great measure, what others make them. Godfrey
+became proud, indolent, and overbearing; Barry, reckless and a spendthrift
+Darcy Martin died, and Godfrey succeeded him as matter of course; while
+Barry, disposing of the small property bequeathed to him, set out to seek
+adventures in the Spanish Main.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I am not able to tell, had you even the patience to hear, of what befell
+him there; the very strangest, wildest incidents are recorded of his life,
+but they have no bearing on what we are now engaged in. He came back,
+however, with a wife, to find his brother also married. This is a period
+of his life of which little is known. The brothers did not live well
+together. There were serious differences between them; and Lady Dorothea's
+conduct towards her sister-in-law, needlessly cruel and offensive, as I
+have heard, imbittered the relations between them. At last Barry's wife
+died, it was said, of a broken heart, and Barry arrived at Cro' Martin to
+deposit his infant child with his brother, and take leave of home and
+country forever.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Some incident of more than usual importance, and with circumstances of no
+common pain, must now have occurred; for one night Barry left the castle,
+vowing nevermore to enter it. Godfrey followed, and tried to detain him. A
+scene ensued of entreaty on one side, and passionate vehemence on the
+other, which brought some of the servants to the spot. Godfrey imperiously
+ordered them away; they all obeyed but Catty. Catty Broon followed Barry,
+and never quitted him that night, which he spent walking up and down the
+long avenue of the demesne, watching and waiting for daybreak. We can only
+conjecture what, in the violence of her grief and indignation, this old
+attached follower of the house might have revealed. Barry had always been
+her favorite of the two boys; she knew his rights; she had never forgotten
+them. She could not tell by what subtleties of law they had been
+transferred to another, but she felt in her heart assured that in the
+sight of God they were sacred. How far, then, she revealed this to him, or
+only hinted it, we have no means of knowing. We can only say that, armed
+with a certain fact, Barry demanded the next day a formal meeting with his
+brother and his sister-in-law. Of what passed then and there, no record
+remains, save, possibly, in that sealed packet; for it bears the date of
+that eventful morning. I, however, am in a position to prove that Barry
+declared he would not disturb the possession Godfrey was then enjoying.
+'Make that poor child,' said he, alluding to his little girl, your own
+daughter, and it matters little what becomes of <i>me</i>.' Godfrey has
+more than once adverted to this distressing scene to me. He told me how
+Lady Dorothea's passion was such that she alternately inveighed against
+himself for having betrayed her into a marriage beneath her, and abjectly
+implored Barry not to expose them to the shame and disgrace of the whole
+world by the assertion of his claim. From this she would burst out into
+fits of open defiance of him, daring him as an impostor; in fact, Martin
+said, 'That morning has darkened my life forever; the shadow of it will be
+over me to the last hour I live!' And so it was! Self-reproach never left
+him: at one time, for his usurpation of what never was his; at another,
+for the neglect of poor Mary, who was suffered to grow up without any care
+of her education, or, indeed, of any attention whatever bestowed upon her.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I believe that, in spite of herself, Lady Dorothea visited the dislike
+she bore Barry on his daughter. It was a sense of hate from the
+consciousness of a wrong,&mdash;one of the bitterest sources of enmity! At
+all events, she showed her little affection,&mdash;no tenderness. Poor
+Godfrey did all that his weak and yielding nature would permit to repair
+this injustice; his consciousness that to that girl's father he owed
+position, fortune, station, everything, was ever rising up in his mind,
+and urging him to some generous effort in her behalf. But you knew him;
+you knew how a fatal indolence, a shrinking horror of whatever demanded
+action or energy overcame all his better nature, and made him as useless
+to all the exigencies of life as one whose heart was eaten up by
+selfishness.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;The remainder of this sad story is told in very few words. Barry Martin,
+from whom for several years before no tidings had been received, came
+suddenly back to England. At first it had not been his intention to
+revisit Ireland. There was something of magnanimity in the resolve to stay
+away. He would not come back to impose upon his brother a renewal of that
+lease of gratitude he derived from him; he would rather spare him the
+inevitable conflict of feeling which the contrast of his own affluence
+with the humble condition of an exile would evoke. Besides, he was one of
+those men whom, whatever Nature may have disposed them to be, the world
+has so crushed and hardened that they live rather to indulge strong
+resentments and stern duties than to gratify warm affections. Something he
+had accidentally heard in a coffee-room&mdash;the chance mention by a
+traveller recently returned from Ireland&mdash;about a young lady of rank
+and fortune whom he had met hunting her own harriers alone in the wildest
+glen of Connemara, decided him to go over there, and, under the name of
+Mr. Barry, to visit the scenes of his youth.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I have but to tell you that it was in that dreary month of November, when
+plague and famine came together upon us, that he saw this country; the
+people dying on every side, the land until led, the very crops in some
+places uncut, terror and dismay on every side, and they who alone could
+have inspired confidence, or afforded aid, gone! Even Cro' Martin was
+deserted,&mdash;worse than deserted; for one was left to struggle alone
+against difficulties that the boldest and the bravest might have shrunk
+from. Had Barry Martin been like any other man, he would at once have
+placed himself at her side. It was a glorious occasion to have shown her
+that she was not the lone and friendless orphan, but the loved and
+cherished child of a doting father. But the hard, stern nature of the man
+had other and very different impulses; and though he tracked her from
+cottage to cottage, followed her in her lonely rambles, and watched her in
+her daily duties, no impulse of affection ever moved him to call her his
+daughter and bring her home to his heart. I know not whether it was to
+afford him these occasions of meeting her, or really in a spirit of
+benevolence, but he dispensed large sums in acts of charity among the
+people, and Mary herself recounted to me, with tears of delight in her
+eyes, the splendid generosity of this unknown stranger. I must hasten on.
+An accident, the mere circumstance of a note-book dropped by some strange
+chance in Barry's room, revealed to him the whole story of Captain
+Martin's spendthrift life; he saw that this young man had squandered away
+not only immense sums obtained by loans, but actually bartered his own
+reversionary right to the entire estate for money already lost at the
+gaming-table.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Barry at once set out for Dublin to call upon me and declare himself; but
+I was, unfortunately, absent at the assizes. He endeavored next to see
+Scanlan. Scanlan was in London; he followed him there. To Scanlan he
+represented himself as a money-lender, who, having come to the knowledge
+of Merl's dealings with young Martin, and the perilous condition of the
+property in consequence, offered his aid to re-purchase the reversion
+while it was yet time. To effect this bargain, Scanlan hastened over to
+Baden, accompanied by Barry, who, however, for secrecy' sake, remained at
+a town in the neighborhood. Scanlan, it seems, resolved to profit by an
+emergency so full of moment, and exacted from Lady Dorothea&mdash;for
+Martin was then too ill to be consulted&mdash;the most advantageous terms
+for himself. I need not mention one of the conditions,&mdash;a formal
+consent to his marriage with Miss Martin! and this, remember, when that
+young lady had not the slightest, vaguest suspicion that such an indignity
+could be offered her, far less concurred in by her nearest relatives! In
+the exuberance of his triumph, Scanlan showed the formal letter of assent
+from Lady Dorothea to Barry. It was from this latter I had the account,
+and I can give you no details, for all he said was, 'As I crushed it in my
+hand, I clenched my fist to fell him to the ground! but I refrained. I
+muttered a word or two, and got out into the street. I know very little
+more.'
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;That night he set out for Baden; but of his journey I know nothing. The
+only hint of it he ever dropped was when, giving me this key, he said, 'I
+saw Godfrey.'
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;He is now back here once more; come to insist upon his long unasserted
+rights, and by a title so indisputable that it will leave no doubt of the
+result.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;He is silent and uncommunicative; but he has said enough to show me that
+he is possessed of evidence of the compact between Godfrey and himself;
+nor is he the man to fail for lack of energy.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I have now come to the end of this strange history, in which it is not
+impossible you yourselves may be called to play a part, in confirmation of
+what you have seen this day.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Then this was the same Mr. Barry of whom we spoke last night?&rdquo; said
+Nelligan, thoughtfully. &ldquo;When about to describe him to you, I was really
+going to say, something like what Mr. Martin might look, if ten years
+older and white-haired.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;There is a strong resemblance still!&rdquo; said Repton, as he busied himself
+sealing up the vestry-book and the other documents. &ldquo;These I mean to
+deposit in your keeping, Mr. Nelligan, till they be called for. I have
+sent over Massingbred to Barry to learn what his wishes may be as to the
+next legal steps; and now I am ready to return with you to Oughterard.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Talking over this singular story, they reached the town, where Massingbred
+had just arrived a short time before.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I have had a long chase,&rdquo; said Jack, &ldquo;and only found him late in the
+afternoon at the cottage.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You gave him the packet, then, and asked when we should meet?&rdquo; asked
+Repton, hurriedly.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yes; he was walking up and down before the door with the doctor, when we
+rode up. He scarcely noticed us; and taking your letter in his hand he
+placed it, without breaking the seal, on a seat in the porch. I then gave
+him your message, and he seemed so lost in thought that I fancied he had
+not attended to me. I was about to repeat it, when he interrupted me,
+saying, 'I have heard you, sir; there is no answer.' As I stood for a
+moment or two, uncertain what to do or say, I perceived that Joe Nelligan,
+who had been speaking to the doctor, had just staggered towards a bench,
+ill and fainting. 'Yes,' said Barry, turning his eyes towards him, 'she is
+very&mdash;very ill; tell Repton so, and he 'll feel for me!'&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Repton pressed his handkerchief to his face and turned away.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I 'm afraid,&rdquo; said Massingbred, &ldquo;that her state is highly dangerous. The
+few words the doctor dropped were full of serious meaning.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Let us hope, and pray,&rdquo; said Repton, fervently, &ldquo;that, amidst all the
+calamities of this sorrow-struck land, it may be spared the loss of one
+who never opened a cabin door without a blessing, nor closed it but to
+shut a hope within.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+<a name="link2HCH0037" id="link2HCH0037">
+<!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+</p>
+<div style="height: 4em;">
+<br /><br /><br /><br />
+</div>
+<h2>
+CHAPTER XXXVII. A DARK DAY
+</h2>
+<p>
+A mild, soft day, with low-lying clouds, and rich odors of wild-flowers
+rising from the ground, a certain dreamy quiet pervading earth and sky and
+sea, over which faint shadows lingered lazily; some drops of the night dew
+still glittered on the feathery larches, and bluebells hung down their
+heads, heavy with moisture; so still the scene that the plash of the
+leaping trout could be heard as he rose in the dark stream. And yet there
+was a vast multitude of people there. The whole surface of the lawn that
+sloped from the cottage to the river was densely crowded, with every age,
+from the oldest to very infancy; with all conditions, from the well-clad
+peasant to the humblest &ldquo;tramper&rdquo; of the high-roads. Weariness,
+exhaustion, and even hunger were depicted on many of their faces. Some had
+passed the night there; others had come long distances, faint and
+footsore; but as they sat, stood, or lay in groups around, not a murmur,
+not a whisper escaped them; with aching eyes they looked towards an open
+window, where the muslin curtain was gently stirred in the faint air.
+</p>
+<p>
+The tidings of Mary Martin's illness had spread rapidly: far-away glens
+down the coast, lonely cabins on the bleak mountains, wild remote spots
+out of human intercourse had heard the news, and their dwellers had
+travelled many a mile to satisfy their aching hearts.
+</p>
+<p>
+From a late hour of the evening before they had learnt nothing of her
+state; then a few words whispered by old Catty to those nearest the door
+told &ldquo;that she was no better,&mdash;if anything, weaker!&rdquo; These sad
+tidings were soon passed from lip to lip; and thus they spent the night,
+praying or watching wearily, their steadfast gaze directed towards that
+spot where the object of all their fears and hopes lay suffering.
+</p>
+<p>
+Of those there, there was scarcely one to whom she was not endeared by
+some personal benefit. She had aided this one in distress, the other she
+had nursed in fever; here were the old she had comforted and cheered,
+there the children she had taught and trained beside her chair. Her gentle
+voice yet vibrated in every heart, her ways of kindness were in every
+memory. Sickness and sorrow were familiar enough to themselves. Life was,
+at least to most of them, one long struggle; but they could not bring
+themselves to think of <i>her</i> thus stricken down! She! that seemed an
+angel, as much above the casualties of such fortune as theirs as she was
+their superior in station,&mdash;that <i>she</i> should be sick and
+suffering was too terrible to think of.
+</p>
+<p>
+There was a stir and movement in the multitude, a wavy, surging motion,
+for the doctor was seen to issue from the stable-yard, and lead his pony
+towards the bridge. He stopped to say a word or two as he went. They were
+sad words; and many a sobbing voice and many a tearful eye told what his
+tidings had been. &ldquo;Sinking,&mdash;sinking rapidly!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+A faint low cry burst from one in the crowd at this moment, and the rumor
+ran that a woman had fainted. It was poor Joan, who had come that night
+over the mountain, and, overcome by grief and exhaustion together, had at
+last given way.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Get a glass of wine for her, or even a cup of water,&rdquo; cried out three or
+four voices; and one nigh the door entered the cottage in search of aid.
+The moment after a tall and handsome girl forced her way through the
+crowd, and gave directions that Joan might be carried into the house.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Why did ye call her my Lady?&rdquo; muttered an old hag to one of the men near
+her; &ldquo;sure, she's Henderson's daughter!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Is she, faith? By my conscience, then, she might be a better man's! She's
+as fine a crayture as ever I seen!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;If she has a purty face, she has a proud heart!&rdquo; muttered another.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Ayeh! she'll never be like <i>her</i> that's going to leave us!&rdquo; sighed a
+young woman with a black ribbon in her cap.
+</p>
+<p>
+Meanwhile Kate had Joan assisted into the cottage, and was busily occupied
+in restoring her. Slowly, and with difficulty, the poor creature came to
+herself, and gazing wildly around, asked where she was; then suddenly
+bursting out in tears, she said,&mdash;&ldquo;Sure, I know well where I am;
+sure, it's my own self, brought grief and sorrow under this roof. But for
+<i>me</i> she 'd be well and hearty this day!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Let us still hope,&rdquo; said Kate, softly. &ldquo;Let us hope that one so dear to
+us all may be left here. You are better now. I 'll join you again
+presently.&rdquo; And with noiseless footsteps she stole up the stairs. As she
+came to the door, she halted and pressed her hands to her heart, as if in
+pain. There was a low murmuring sound, as if of voices, from within, and
+Kate turned away and sat down on the stairs.
+</p>
+<p>
+Within the sick-room a subdued light came, and a soft air, mild and balmy,
+for the rose-trees and the jessamine clustered over the window, and
+mingled their blossoms across it. Mary had just awoke from a short sleep,
+and lay with her hand clasped within that of a large and white-haired man
+at the bedside.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;What a good, kind doctor!&rdquo; said she, faintly; &ldquo;I'm sure to find you ever
+beside me when I awake.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Oh, darlin', dear,&rdquo; broke in old Catty, &ldquo;sure you ought to know who he
+is. Sure it 's your own&mdash;&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Hush! be silent!&rdquo; muttered the old man, in a low, stern voice.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Is it Tuesday to-day?&rdquo; asked Mary, softly.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yes, dear, Tuesday,&rdquo; said the old man.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;It was on Thursday my poor uncle died. Could I live till Thursday,
+doctor?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+The old man tried to speak, but could not.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You are afraid to shock me,&rdquo; said she, with a faint attempt to smile,
+&ldquo;but if you knew how happy I am,&mdash;happy even to leave a life I loved
+so well. It never could have been the same again, though&mdash;the spell
+was breaking, hardship and hunger were maddening them&mdash;who knows to
+what counsels they 'd have listened soon! Tell Harry to be kind to them,
+won't you? Tell him not to trust to others, but to know them himself; to
+go, as I have done, amongst them. They 'll love him <i>so</i> for doing
+it. He is a man, young, rich, and high-hearted,&mdash;how they 'll dote
+upon him! Catty used to say it was my father they 'd have worshipped; but
+that was in flattery to me, Catty, you always said we were so like&mdash;&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Oh dear! oh dear! why won't you tell her?&rdquo; broke in Catty. But a severe
+gesture from the old man again checked her words.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;How that wild night at sea dwells in my thoughts! I never sleep but to
+dream of it. Cousin Harry must not forget those brave fellows. I have
+nothing to requite them with. I make no will, doctor,&rdquo; said she, smiling,
+&ldquo;for my only legacy is that nosegay there. Will you keep it for my sake?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+The old man hid his face, but his strong frame shook and quivered in the
+agony of the moment.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Hush!&rdquo; said she, softly; &ldquo;I hear voices without. Who are they?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;They're the country-people, darlin', come from Kiltimmon and beyond
+Kyle-a-Noe, to ax after you. They passed the night there, most of them.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Catty, dear, take care that you look after them; they will be hungry and
+famished, poor creatures! Oh, how unspeakably grateful to one's heart is
+this proof of feeling! Doctor, you will tell Harry how <i>I</i> loved <i>them</i>
+and how <i>they</i> loved <i>me</i>. Tell him, too, that this bond of
+affection is the safest and best of all ties. Tell him that their old love
+for a Martin still survives in their hearts, and it will be his own fault
+if he does not transmit it to his children. There's some one sobbing there
+without. Oh, bid them be of good heart, Catty; there is none who could go
+with less of loss to those behind. There&mdash;there come the great waves
+again before me! How my courage must have failed me to make this
+impression so deep! And poor Joan, and that dear fond girl who has been as
+a sister to me,&mdash;so full of gentleness and love,&mdash;Kate, where is
+she? No, do not call her; say that I asked for her&mdash;that I blessed
+her&mdash;and sent her this kiss!&rdquo; She pressed a rose to her hot, parched
+lips as she spoke, and then closing her eyes seemed to fall off to sleep.
+Her breathing, at first strong and frequent, grew fainter and fainter, and
+her color came and went, while her lips slightly moved, and a low, soft
+murmur came from them.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;She's asleep,&rdquo; muttered Catty, as she crouched down beside the bed.
+</p>
+<p>
+The old man bent over the bed, and watched the calm features. He sat thus
+long, for hours, but no change was there; he put his lips to hers, and
+then a sickly shuddering came over him, and a low, deep groan, that seemed
+to rend his very heart!
+</p>
+<p>
+Three days after, the great gateway of Cro' Martin Castle opened to admit
+a stately hearse drawn by six horses, all mournfully caparisoned, shaking
+with plumes and black-fringed drapery. Two mourning-coaches followed, and
+then the massive gates were closed, and the sad pageant wound its slow
+course through the demesne. At the same moment another funeral was
+approaching the churchyard by a different road. It was a coffin borne by
+men bareheaded and sorrow-struck. An immense multitude followed, of every
+rank and age; sobs and sighs broke from them as they went. Not an eye was
+tearless, not a lip that did not tremble. At the head of this procession
+walked a small group whose dress and bearing bespoke their class. These
+were Barry Martin, leaning on Repton; Massingbred and the two Nelligans
+came behind.
+</p>
+<p>
+The two coffins entered the churchyard at the same instant The uncle and
+the niece were laid side by side in the turf! The same sacred words
+consigned them both to their last bed; the same second of time heard the
+dank reverberation that pronounced &ldquo;earth&rdquo; had returned &ldquo;to earth.&rdquo; A kind
+of reverential awe pervaded the immense crowd during the ceremony, and if
+here and there a sob would burst from some overburdened heart, all the
+rest were silent; respecting, with a deference of true refinement, a
+sorrow deeper and greater than their own, they never uttered a word, but
+with bent-down heads stole quietly away. And now by each grave the
+mourners stood, silently gazing on the little mounds which typify so much
+of human sorrow!
+</p>
+<p>
+Barry Martin's bronzed and weather-beaten features were a thought paler,
+perhaps. There was a dark shade of color round the eyes, but on the whole
+the expression conveyed far more of sternness than sorrow. Such, indeed,
+is no uncommon form for grief to take in certain natures. There are men
+who regard calamity like a foe, and go out to meet it in a spirit of
+haughty defiance. A poor philosophy! He who accepts it as chastisement is
+both a braver and a better man!
+</p>
+<p>
+Repton stood for a while beside him, not daring to interrupt his thoughts.
+At length he whispered a few words in his ear. Barry started suddenly, and
+his dark brow grew sterner and more resolute.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yes, Martin, you must,&rdquo; said Repton, eagerly, &ldquo;I insist upon it. Good
+heavens! is it at such a time, in such a place as this, you can harbor a
+thought that is not forgiveness? Remember he is poor Godfrey's son, the
+last of the race now.&rdquo; As he spoke, passing his arm within the other's, he
+drew him gently along, and led him to where a solitary mourner was
+standing beside the other grave.
+</p>
+<p>
+Barry Martin stood erect and motionless, while Repton spoke to the young
+man. At first the words seemed to confuse and puzzle him, for he looked
+vaguely around, and passed his hand across his brow in evident difficulty.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Did you say here, in this country? Do I understand you aright?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Here, in this very spot; there, standing now before you!&rdquo; said Repton, as
+he pushed young Martin towards his uncle.
+</p>
+<p>
+Barry held out his hand, which the young man grasped eagerly; and then, as
+if unable to resist his emotions longer, fell, sobbing violently, into the
+other's arms.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Let us leave them for a while,&rdquo; said Repton, hurrying over to where
+Massingbred and the Nelligans were yet standing in silent sorrow.
+</p>
+<p>
+They left the spot together without a word. Grief had its own part for
+each. It is not for us to say where sorrow eat deepest, or in which heart
+the desolation was most complete.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I'd not have known young Martin,&rdquo; whispered Nelligan in Repton's ear; &ldquo;he
+looks full twelve years older than when last I saw him.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;The fast men of this age, sir, live their youth rapidly,&rdquo; replied the
+other. &ldquo;It is rarely their fortune to survive to be like me, or heaven
+knows what hearts they would be left with!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+While they thus talked, Massingbred and Joe Nelligan had strolled away
+into the wood. Neither spoke. Massingbred felt the violent trembling of
+the other's arm as it rested on his own, and saw a gulping effort by which
+more than once he suppressed his rising emotion. For hours they thus
+loitered along, and at length, as they issued from the demesne, they found
+Repton and Mr. Nelligan awaiting them.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Barry Martin has taken his nephew back with him to the cottage,&rdquo; said
+Repton, &ldquo;and we 'll not intrude upon them for the rest of the evening.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+<a name="link2HCH0038" id="link2HCH0038">
+<!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+</p>
+<div style="height: 4em;">
+<br /><br /><br /><br />
+</div>
+<h2>
+CHAPTER XXXVIII. REPTON'S LAST CAUSE
+</h2>
+<p>
+We have no right, as little have we the inclination, to inflict our reader
+with the details by which Barry Martin asserted and obtained his own. A
+suit in which young Martin assumed to be the defendant developed the whole
+history to the world, and proclaimed his title to the estate. It was a
+memorable case in many ways; it was the last brief Val Repton ever held.
+Never was his clear and searching intellect more conspicuous; never did he
+display more logical acuteness, nor trace out a difficult narrative with
+more easy perspicuity.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;My Lords,&rdquo; said he, as he drew nigh the conclusion of his speech, &ldquo;it
+would have been no ordinary satisfaction to me to close a long life of
+labor in these courts by an effort which restores to an ancient name the
+noble heritage it had held for centuries. I should have deemed such an
+occasion no unfitting close to a career not altogether void of its
+successes; but the event has still stronger claims upon my gratitude. It
+enables me in all the unembellished sternness of legal proof to display to
+an age little credulous of much affection the force of a brother's love,&mdash;the
+high-hearted devotion by which a man encountered a long life of poverty
+and privation, rather than disturb the peaceful possession of a brother.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Romance has its own way of treating such themes; but I do not believe
+romance can add one feature to the simple fact of this man's self-denial.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;We should probably be lost in our speculations as to the noble motives of
+this sacrifice, if our attention was not called away to something
+infinitely finer and more exalted than even this. I mean the glorious life
+and martyr's death of her who has made a part of this case less like a
+legal investigation than the page of an affecting story. Story, do I say!
+Shame on the word! It is in truth and reality alone are such virtues
+inscribed. Fiction cannot deal with the humble materials that make up such
+an existence,&mdash;the long hours of watching by sickness; the weary care
+of teaching the young; the trying disappointments to hope bravely met by
+fresh efforts; the cheery encouragement drawn from a heart exhausting
+itself to supply others. Think of a young girl&mdash;a very child in the
+world's wisdom, more than a man in heroism and daring, with a heart made
+for every high ambition, and a station that might command the highest&mdash;calmly
+consenting to be the friend of destitution, the companion of misery, the
+daily associate of every wretchedness; devoting grace that might have
+adorned a court to shed happiness in a cabin, and making of beauty that
+would have shed lustre around a palace the sunshine that pierced the gloom
+of a peasant's misery! Picture to yourself the hand a prince might have
+knelt to kiss, holding the cup to the lips of fever; fancy the form whose
+elegance would have fascinated, crouched down beside the embers as she
+spoke words of consolation or hope to some bereaved mother or some
+desolate orphan!
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;These are not the scenes we are wont to look on here. Our cares are,
+unhappily, more with the wiles and snares of crafty men than with the
+sorrows and sufferings of the good! It is not often human nature wears its
+best colors in this place; the spirit of litigious contest little favors
+the virtues that are the best adornments of our kind. Thrice happy am I,
+then, that I end my day where a glorious sunset gilds its last hours; that
+I close my labors not in reprobating crime or stigmatizing baseness, but
+with a full heart, thanking God that my last words are an elegy over the
+grave of the best of The Martins of Cro' Martin.'&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+The inaccurate record from which we take these passages&mdash;for the only
+report of the trial is in a newspaper of the time&mdash;adds that the
+emotion of the speaker had so far pervaded the court that the conclusion
+was drowned in mingled expressions of applause and sorrow; and when Repton
+retired, he was followed by the whole bar, eagerly pressing to take their
+last farewell of its honored father.
+</p>
+<p>
+The same column of the paper mentions that Mr. Joseph Nelligan was to have
+made his first motion that day as Solicitor-General, but had left the
+court from a sudden indisposition, and the cause was consequently
+deferred.
+</p>
+<p>
+If Val Repton never again took his place in court, he did not entirely
+abdicate his functions. Barry Martin had determined on making a conveyance
+of the estate to his nephew, and the old lawyer was for several weeks
+busily employed in that duty. Although Merl's claim became extinguished
+when young Martin's right to the property was annulled, Barry Martin
+insisted on arrangements being made to repay him all that he had advanced,&mdash;a
+course which Repton, with some little hesitation, at last concurred in. He
+urged Barry to reserve a life-interest to himself in the property,
+representing the various duties which more properly would fall to his lot
+than to that of a young and inexperienced proprietor. But he would not
+hear of it.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;He cannot abide the place,&rdquo; said Repton, when talking the matter over
+with Massingbred. &ldquo;He is one of those men who never can forgive the
+locality where they have been miserable, nor the individual who has had a
+share in their sorrow. When he settles his account with Henderson, then he
+'ll leave the West forever.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And will he still leave Henderson in his charge?&rdquo; asked Jack.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;That is as it may be,&rdquo; said Repton, cautiously. &ldquo;There is, as I
+understand, some very serious reckoning between them. It is the only
+subject on which Martin has kept mystery with me, and I do not like even
+to advert to it.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Massingbred pondered long over these words, without being able to make
+anything of them.
+</p>
+<p>
+It might be that Henderson's conduct had involved him in some grave
+charge; and if so, Jack's own intentions with regard to the daughter would
+be burdened with fresh complications. &ldquo;The steward&rdquo; was bad enough; but if
+he turned out to be the &ldquo;unjust steward&rdquo;&mdash;&ldquo;I 'll start for Galway
+to-night,&rdquo; thought he. &ldquo;I 'll anticipate the discovery, whatever it be.
+She can no longer refuse to see me on the pretext of recent sorrow. It is
+now two months and more since this bereavement befell her. I can no longer
+combat this life of anxiety and doubt.&mdash;What can I do for you in the
+West, sir?&rdquo; asked he of Repton, suddenly.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Many things, my young friend,&rdquo; said Repton, &ldquo;if you will delay your
+departure two days, since they are matters on which I must instruct you
+personally.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Massingbred gave a kind of half-consent, and the other went on to speak of
+the necessity for some nice diplomacy between the uncle and his nephew.
+&ldquo;They know each other but little; they are on the verge of
+misunderstandings a dozen times a day. Benefits are, after all, but sorry
+ties between man and man. They may ratify the treaty of affection; they
+rarely inscribe the contract!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Still Martin cannot but feel that to the noblest act of his uncle's
+generosity he is indebted for all he possesses.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Of course he knows, and he feels it; but who is to say whether that same
+consciousness is not a load too oppressive to bear. I know already Barry
+Martin's suggestions as to certain changes have not been well taken, and
+he is eager and pressing to leave Ireland, lest anything should disturb
+the concord, frail as it is, between them.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;By Jove!&rdquo; exclaimed Massingbred, passionately, &ldquo;there is wonderfully
+little real good in this world; wonderfully little that can stand the test
+of the very basest of all motives,&mdash;mere gain.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Don't say so!&rdquo; cried Repton. &ldquo;Men have far better natures than you think;
+the fault lies in their tempers. Ay, sir, we are always entering into
+heavy recognizances with our passions, to do fifty things we never cared
+for. We have said this, we have heard the other; somebody sneered at that,
+and some one else agreed with him; and away we go, pitching all reason
+behind us, like an old shoe, and only seeking to gratify a whim, or a mere
+caprice, suggested by temper. Why do people maintain friendly intercourse
+at a distance for years, who could not pass twenty-four hours amicably
+under the same roof? Simply because it is their natures, and not their
+tempers, are in exercise.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I scarcely can separate the two in my mind,&rdquo; said Jack, doubtingly.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Can't you, sir? Why, nature is your skin, temper only your great-coat.&rdquo;
+ And the old lawyer laughed heartily at his own conceit. &ldquo;But here comes
+the postman.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+The double knock had scarcely reverberated through the spacious hall when
+the servant entered with a letter.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Ah! Barry Martin's hand. What have we here?&rdquo; said Repton, as he ran his
+eyes over it. &ldquo;So-so; just as I was saying this minute, only that Barry
+has the good sense to see it himself. 'My nephew,' he writes, 'has his own
+ideas on all these subjects, which are not mine; and as it is no part of
+my plan to hamper my gift with conditions that might impair its value, I
+mean to leave this at once.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;'I have had my full share of calamity since I set foot in this land; and
+if this rugged old nature could be crushed by mere misfortune, the last
+two months might have done it. But no, Repton, the years by which we
+survive friends serve equally to make us survive affections, and we live
+on, untouched by time!
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;'I mean to be with you this evening. Let us dine alone together, for I
+have much to say to you.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;' Yours ever,
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;'Barry Martin.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;'I hope I may see Massingbred before I sail. I 'd like to shake hands
+with him once again. Say so to him, at all events.'&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Come in to-morrow to breakfast,&rdquo; said Repton; &ldquo;by that time we'll have
+finished all mere business affairs.&rdquo; And Massingbred having assented, they
+parted.
+</p>
+<p>
+<a name="link2HCH0039" id="link2HCH0039">
+<!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+</p>
+<div style="height: 4em;">
+<br /><br /><br /><br />
+</div>
+<h2>
+CHAPTER XXXIX. TOWARDS THE END
+</h2>
+<p>
+Repton was standing at his parlor window, anxiously awaiting his friend's
+arrival, when the chaise with four posters came to the door. &ldquo;What have we
+here?&rdquo; said the old lawyer to himself, as Barry assisted a lady dressed in
+deep mourning to alight, and hurried out to receive them.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I have not come alone, Repton,&rdquo; said the other. &ldquo;I have brought my
+daughter with me.&rdquo; Before Repton could master his amazement at these
+words, she had thrown back her veil, revealing the well-known features of
+Kate Henderson.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Is this possible?&mdash;is this really the case?&rdquo; cried Repton, as he
+grasped her hand between both his own. &ldquo;Do I, indeed, see one I have so
+long regarded and admired, as the child of my old friend?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Fate, that dealt me so many heavy blows of late, had a kindness in
+reserve for me, after all,&rdquo; said Barry. &ldquo;I am not to be quite alone in
+this world!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;If <i>you</i> be grateful, what ought not to be <i>my</i> thankfulness?&rdquo;
+ said Kate, tremulously.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Leave us for a moment together, Kate,&rdquo; said Barry; and taking Repton's
+arm, he led him into an inner room.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I have met with many a sore cut from fortune, Repton,&rdquo; said he, in the
+fierce tone that was most natural to him; &ldquo;the nearest and dearest to me
+not the last to treat me harshly. I need not tell you how I have been
+requited in life; not, indeed, that I seek to acquit myself of my own
+share of ill. My whole career has been a fault; it could not bring other
+fruit than misery.&rdquo; He paused, and for a while seemed laboring in strong
+emotion. At last he went on:&mdash;
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;When that girl was born&mdash;it was two years before I married&mdash;I
+intrusted the charge of her to Henderson, who placed her with a sister of
+his in Bruges. I made arrangements for her maintenance and education,&mdash;liberally
+for one as poor as I was. I made but one condition about her. It was that
+under no circumstances save actual want should she ever be reduced to earn
+her own bread; but if the sad hour did come, never&mdash;as had been her
+poor mothers fate&mdash;never as a governess! It was in that fearful
+struggle of condition I first knew her. I continued, year after year, to
+hear of her; remitting regularly the sums I promised,&mdash;doubling,
+tripling them, when fortune favored me with a chance prosperity. The
+letters spoke of her as well and happy, in humble but sufficient
+circumstances, equally remote from privation as from the seductions of a
+more exalted state. I insisted eagerly on my original condition, and hoped
+some day to hear of her being married to some honest but humble man. It
+was not often that I had time for self-reproach; but when such seasons
+would beset me, I thought of this girl, and her poor mother long dead and
+gone&mdash;But let me finish. While I struggled&mdash;and it was often a
+hard struggle&mdash;to maintain my side of the compact, selling at ruinous
+loss acquisitions it had cost me years of labor to obtain, this fellow,
+this Henderson, was basely betraying the trust I placed in him! The girl,
+for whose protection, whose safety I was toiling, was thrown by him into
+the very world for which I had distinctly excepted her; her talents, her
+accomplishments, her very graces, farmed out and hired for his own profit!
+Launched into the very sea where her own mother met shipwreck, she was a
+mere child, sent to thread her way through the perils of the most
+dissipated society. Hear her own account of it, Repton. Let <i>her</i>
+tell you what is the tone of that high life to which foreign nobility
+imparts its fascinations. Not that I want to make invidious comparisons;
+our own country sends its high tributaries to every vice of Europe! I know
+not what accident saved her amidst this pollution. Some fancied theory of
+popular wrongs, she thinks, gave her a kind of factitious heroism;
+elevating her, at least to her own mind, above the frivolous corruptions
+around her. She was a democrat, to rescue her from being worse.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;At last came a year of unusual pressure; my remittance was delayed, but
+when sent was never acknowledged. From that hour out I never heard of her.
+How she came into my brother's family, you yourself know. What was her
+life there, she has told me! Not in any spirit of complaint,&mdash;nay,
+she acknowledges to many kindnesses and much trust. Even my cold
+sister-in-law showed traits for which I had not given her credit. I have
+already forgotten her wrongs towards myself, in requital of her conduct to
+this poor girl.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I'll spare you the scene with Henderson, Repton,&rdquo; said he, after a long
+pause. &ldquo;When the fellow told me that the girl was the same I had seen
+watching by another's sickbed, that she it was whose never-ceasing cares
+had soothed the last hours of one dearer than herself, I never gave
+another thought to him. I rushed out in search of her, to tell her myself
+the tidings.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;How did she hear it?&rdquo; asked Repton, eagerly.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;More calmly than I could tell it. Her first words were, 'Thank God for
+this, for I never could love that man I had called my father!'&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;She knows, then, every circumstance of her birth?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I told her everything. We know each other as well as though we had lived
+under the same roof for years. She is my own child in every sentiment and
+feeling. She is frank and fearless, Repton,&mdash;two qualities that will
+do well enough in the wild savannahs of the New World, but would be
+unmanageable gifts in the Old, and thither we are bound. I have written to
+Liverpool about a ship, and we shall sail on Saturday.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;How warmly do I sympathize in this your good fortune, Martin!&rdquo; said
+Repton. &ldquo;She is a noble creature, and worthy of belonging to you.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I ask for nothing more, Repton,&rdquo; said he, solemnly. &ldquo;Fortune and station,
+such as they exist here, I have no mind for! I'm too old now to go to
+school about party tactics and politics; I'm too stubborn, besides, to
+yield up a single conviction for the sake of unity with a party,&mdash;so
+much for my unfitness for public life. As to private, I am rough and
+untrained; the forms of society so pleasant to others would be penalties
+to <i>me</i>. And then,&rdquo; said he, rising, and drawing up his figure to its
+full height, &ldquo;I love the forest and the prairie; I glory in the vastness
+of a landscape where the earth seems boundless as the sky, and where, if I
+hunt down a buffalo-ox, after twenty miles of a chase, I have neither a
+game-law nor a gamekeeper nor a charge of trespass hanging over me.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;There's some one knocking at the door,&rdquo; said Repton, as he arose and
+opened it.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;A thousand pardons for this interruption,&rdquo; said Mas-singbred, in a low
+and eager voice, &ldquo;but I cannot keep my promise to you; I cannot defer my
+journey to the West. I start to-night. Don't ask me the reasons. I 'll be
+free enough to give them if they justify me.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;But here is one who wishes to shake hands with you, Massingbred,&rdquo; said
+Repton, as he led him forward into the room.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I hope you are going to keep your pledge with me, though,&rdquo; said Barry.
+&ldquo;Have you forgotten you have promised to be my guest over the sea?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Ah,&rdquo; said Jack, sighing, &ldquo;I 've had many a day-dream of late!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;The man's in love,&rdquo; said Repton. &ldquo;Nay, prisoner, you are not called on to
+say what may criminate you. I 'll tell you what, Barry, you 'll do the boy
+good service by taking him along with you. There 's a healthful sincerity
+in the active life of the New World well fitted to dispel illusions that
+take their rise in the indolent voluptuousness of the Old. Carry him off
+then, I say; accept no excuses nor apologies. Send him away to buy powder
+and shot, leather gaiters, and the rest of it. When I saw him first
+myself, it was in the character of a poacher, and he filled the part well.
+Ah! he is gone,&rdquo; added he, perceiving that Martin had just quitted the
+room. &ldquo;Poor fellow, he is so full of his present happiness,&mdash;the
+first gleam of real sunshine on a long day of lowering gloom! He has just
+found a daughter,&mdash;an illegitimate one, but worthy to be the
+rightful-born child to the first man in the land. The discovery has
+carried him back twenty years of life, and freshened a heart whose wells
+of feeling were all but dried up forever. If I mistake not, you must have
+met her long ago at Cro' Martin.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Possibly. I have no recollection of it,&rdquo; said Jack, musing.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;An ignoble confession, sir,&rdquo; said Repton; &ldquo;no less shocked should I be
+were she to tell me she was uncertain if she had ever met Mr. Massingbred.
+As Burke once remarked to me, 'Active intelligences, like appropriate
+ingredients in chemistry, never meet without fresh combinations.' It is
+then a shame to ignore such products. I 'd swear that when you did meet
+you understood each other thoroughly; agreed well,&mdash;ay, and what is
+more to the purpose, differed in the right places too.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I'm certain we did,&rdquo; said Jack, smiling, &ldquo;though I'm ungrateful enough to
+forget all about it.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Well,&rdquo; said Martin, entering, &ldquo;I have sent for another advocate to plead
+my cause. My daughter will tell you, sir, that she, at least, is not
+afraid to encounter the uncivilized glens beside the Orinoco. Come in,
+Kate. You tell me that you and Mr. Massingbred are old friends.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Massingbred started as he heard the name, looked up, and there stood Kate
+before him, with her hand extended in welcome.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Good heavens! what is this? Am I in a dream? Can this be real?&rdquo; cried
+Jack, pressing his hands to his temples, and trembling from head to foot
+in the intensity of his anxiety.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;My father tells me of an invitation he has given you, Mr. Massingbred,&rdquo;
+ said she, smiling faintly at his embarrassment, &ldquo;and asks me to repeat it;
+but I know far better than he does all that you would surrender by exile
+from the great world wherein you are destined to eminence. The great
+debater, the witty conversationalist, the smart reviewer, might prove but
+a sorry trapper, and even a bad shot! I have my scruples, then, about
+supporting a cause where my conscience does not go along with me.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;My head on't, but he 'll like the life well,&rdquo; said Barry, half
+impatiently.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Am I to think that you will not ask me to be your guest?&rdquo; said Jack, in a
+whisper, only audible by Kate.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I have not said so,&rdquo; said she, in the same low tone. &ldquo;Will you go
+further, Kate,&rdquo; muttered he, in tremulous eagerness, &ldquo;and say, 'Come'?&rdquo;
+ &ldquo;Yes!&rdquo; said she. &ldquo;Come!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+<a name="linkimage-0016" id="linkimage-0016">
+<!-- IMG --></a>
+</p>
+<div class="fig" style="width:80%;">
+<img src="images/410.jpg" width="100%" alt="410 " />
+</div>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I accept!&rdquo; cried Jack, rushing over, and grasping Martin's hands between
+his own. &ldquo;I 'm ready,&mdash;this hour, this instant, if you like it.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;We find the prisoner guilty, my Lords,&rdquo; said Repton; &ldquo;but we recommend
+him to mercy, as his manner on this occasion convinces us it is a first
+offence.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+We have now done with the Martins of Cro' Martin. Should any of our
+readers feel a curiosity as to the future fortunes of the estate, its
+story, like that of many another Irish property, is written in the
+Encumbered Estates Court. Captain Martin only grew wiser by the especial
+experience of one class of difficulties. His indolent, easy disposition
+and a taste for expense led him once again into embarrassments from which
+there was but one issue,&mdash;the sale of his property. He has still,
+however, a handsome subsistence remaining, and lives with Lady Dorothea,
+notable and somewhat distinguished residents of a city on the Continent.
+</p>
+<p>
+We cannot persuade ourselves that we have inspired interest for the
+humbler characters of our piece. Nor dare we ask the reader to hear more
+about Mrs. Cronan and her set, nor learn how Kilkieran fared in the
+changes around it.
+</p>
+<p>
+For Joseph Nelligan, however, we claim a parting word. He was the first of
+an order of men who have contributed no small share to the great social
+revolution of Ireland in late years. With talents fully equal to the best
+in the opposite scale of party, and a character above all reproach, he
+stood a rebuking witness to all the taunts and sarcasms once
+indiscriminately levelled at his class; and, at the same time, inspired
+his own party with the happy knowledge that there was a nobler and more
+legitimate road to eminence than by factious display and popular
+declamation.
+</p>
+<p>
+We do not wish to inquire how far the one great blow to his happiness&mdash;the
+disappointment of his early life&mdash;contributed to his success by
+concentrating his ambition on his career. Certain is it, no man achieved a
+higher or more rapid elevation, and old Dan lived to receive at his board
+the Chief Justice of the Queen's Bench in the person of his own son.
+</p>
+<p>
+Poor Simmy Crow! for if we would forget him, he has taken care that
+oblivion is not to be his fate. He has sent from the Rocky Mountains,
+where he is now wandering with Barry Martin, some sketches of Indian Life
+to the Irish Art Exhibition.
+</p>
+<p>
+If it be a pleasure to trace in our friends the traits we have admired in
+them in youth, and remark the embers of the fires that once wanned their
+hearts, Simmy affords us this gratification, since his drawings reveal the
+inspirations that first filled his early mind. The Chief in his war-paint
+has a fac-simile likeness to his St. John in the Wilderness; and as for
+the infant the squaw is bathing in the stream, we can produce twelve
+respectable witnesses to depose that it is &ldquo;Moses.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+We are much tempted to add a word about the Exiles themselves, but we
+abstain. It is enough to say that all the attractive prospects of ambition
+held out by friends, all the seductions of generous offers from family,
+have never tempted them to return to the Old World; but that they live on
+happily, far away from the jarring collisions of life, the tranquil
+existence they had longed for.
+</p>
+<p>
+THE END. <br /> <br />
+</p>
+<hr />
+<p>
+<br /> <br />
+</p>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+
+
+
+
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+</pre>
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+The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Martins Of Cro' Martin, Vol. II (of II), by
+Charles James Lever
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: The Martins Of Cro' Martin, Vol. II (of II)
+
+Author: Charles James Lever
+
+Illustrator: Phiz.
+
+Release Date: February 2, 2011 [EBook #35144]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ASCII
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE MARTINS OF CRO' MARTIN ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by David Widger
+
+
+
+
+
+
+THE MARTINS OF CRO' MARTIN
+
+By Charles Lever
+
+With Illustrations By Phiz.
+
+In Two Volumes
+
+Vol. II.
+
+Boston: Little, Brown, And Company.
+
+1906
+
+
+
+
+THE MARTINS OF CRO' MARTIN.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER I. MR. HERMAN MERL
+
+This much-abused world of ours, railed at by divines, sneered down by
+cynics, slighted by philosophers, has still some marvellously pleasant
+things about it, amongst which, first and foremost, _facile princeps_,
+is Paris! In every other city of Europe there is a life to be learned
+and acquired just like a new language. You have to gain the acquaintance
+of certain people, obtain admission to certain houses, submit yourself
+to ways, habits, hours, all peculiar to the locality, and conform to
+usages in which--at first, at least--you rarely find anything beyond
+penalties on your time and your patience. But Paris demands no such
+sacrifices. To enjoy it, no apprenticeship is required. You become
+free of the guild at the Porte St. Denis. By the time you reach the
+Boulevards you have ceased to be a stranger. You enter the "Freres" at
+dinner hour like an old habitue. The atmosphere of light, elastic gayety
+around you, the tone of charming politeness that meets your commonest
+inquiry, the courtesy bestowed upon your character as a foreigner, are
+all as exhilarating in their own way as your sparkling glass of Moet,
+sipped in the window, from which you look down on plashing fountains,
+laughing children, and dark-eyed grisettes! The whole thing, in its
+bustle and movement, its splendor, sunlight, gilded furniture,
+mirrors, and smart toilettes, is a piece of natural magic, with this
+difference,--that its effect is ever new, ever surprising!
+
+Sad and sorrowful faces are, of course, to be met with, since grief has
+its portion everywhere; but that air of languid indifference, that
+look of wearied endurance, which we characterize by the classic term of
+"boredom," is, indeed, a rare spectacle in this capital; and yet now
+at the window of a splendid apartment in the Place Vendome, listlessly
+looking down into the square beneath, stood a young man, every line
+of whose features conveyed this same expression. He had, although not
+really above twenty-four or twenty-five, the appearance of one ten
+years older. On a face of singular regularity, and decidedly handsome,
+dissipation had left its indelible traces. The eyes were deep sunk,
+the cheeks colorless, and around the angles of the mouth were those
+tell-tale circles which betray the action of an oft-tried temper, and
+the spirit that has gone through many a hard conflict. In figure he was
+very tall, and seemed more so in the folds of a long dressing-gown
+of antique brocade, which reached to his feet; a small, dark green
+skull-cap, with a heavy silver tassel, covered one side of his head, and
+in his hand he held a handsome meerschaum, which, half mechanically, he
+placed from time to time to his lips, although its bowl was empty.
+
+At a breakfast-table covered with all that could provoke appetite, sat a
+figure as much unlike him as could be. He was under the middle size,
+and slightly inclined to flesh, with a face which, but for some strange
+resemblance to what one has seen in pictures by the older artists, would
+have been unequivocally vulgar. The eyes were small, keen, and furtive;
+the nose, slightly concave in its outline, expanded beneath into
+nostrils wide and full; but the mouth, thick-lipped, sensual, and
+coarse, was more distinctive than all, and showed that Mr. Herman Merl
+was a gentleman of the Jewish persuasion,--a fact well corroborated by
+the splendor of a very flashy silk waistcoat, and various studs, gold
+chain, rings, and trinkets profusely scattered over his costume. And
+yet there was little of what we commonly recognize as the Jew in the
+character of his face. The eyes were not dark, the nose not aquiline;
+the hair, indeed, had the wavy massiveness of the Hebrew race; but Mr.
+Merl was a "Red Jew," and the Red Jew, like the red partridge, is a
+species _per se_.
+
+[Illustration: 018]
+
+There was an ostentatious pretension in the "get up" of this gentleman.
+His moustache, his beard, his wrist-buttons, his shirt-studs, the
+camellia in his coat,--all, even to the heels of his boots, had been
+made studies, either to correct a natural defect, or show off what he
+fancied a natural advantage. He seemed to have studied color like a
+painter, for his dark brown frock was in true keeping with the tint
+of his skin; and yet, despite these painstaking efforts, the man was
+indelibly, hopelessly vulgar. Everything about him was imitation, but it
+was imitation that only displayed its own shortcomings.
+
+"I wonder how you can resist these oysters, Captain," said he, as he
+daintily adjusted one of these delicacies on his fork; "and the Chablis,
+I assure you, is excellent."
+
+"I never eat breakfast," said the other, turning away from the window,
+and pacing the room with slow and measured tread.
+
+"Why, you are forgetting all the speculations that used to amuse us
+on the voyage,--the delicious little dinners we were to enjoy at the
+'Rocher,' the tempting dejeuners at 'Vefour's.' By Jove! how hungry you
+used to make me, with your descriptions of the appetizing fare before
+us; and here we have it now: Ardennes ham, fried in champagne; Ostend
+oysters, salmi of quails with truffles--and such truffles! Won't that
+tempt you?"
+
+But his friend paid no attention to the appeal, and walking again to the
+window, looked out.
+
+"Those little drummers yonder have a busy day of it," said he, lazily;
+"that's the fourth time they have had to beat the salute to Generals
+this morning."
+
+"Is there anything going on, then?"
+
+But he never deigned an answer, and resumed his walk.
+
+"I wish you'd send away that hissing teakettle, it reminds me of a
+steamboat," said the Captain, peevishly; "that is, if you have done with
+it."
+
+"So it does," said the other, rising to ring the bell; "there's the same
+discordant noise, and the--the--the--" But the rest of the similitude
+would n't come, and Mr. Merl covered his retreat with the process of
+lighting a cigar,--an invaluable expedient that had served to aid many a
+more ready debater in like difficulty.
+
+It would be a somewhat tedious, perhaps not a very profitable task, to
+inquire how two men, so palpably dissimilar, had thus become what the
+world calls friends. Enough if we say that Captain Martin,--the heir of
+Cro' Martin,--when returning from India on leave, passed some time at
+the Cape, where, in the not very select society of the place, he met Mr.
+Merl. Now Mr. Merl had been at Ceylon, where he had something to do with
+a coffee plantation; and he had been at Benares, where opium interested
+him; and now again, at the Cape, a question of wine had probably some
+relation to his sojourn. In fact, he was a man travelling about the
+world with abundance of leisure, a well-stocked purse, and what our
+friends over the Strait would term an "industrial spirit." Messes had
+occasionally invited him to their tables. Men in society got the habit
+of seeing him "about," and he was in the enjoyment of that kind of
+tolerance which made every man feel, "He's not _my_ friend,--_I_ didn't
+introduce him; but he seems a good sort of fellow enough!" And so he
+was,--very good-tempered, very obliging, most liberal of his cigars,
+his lodgings always open to loungers, with pale ale, and even iced
+champagne, to be had |for asking. There was play, too; and although Merl
+was a considerable winner, he managed never to incur the jealous enmity
+that winning so often imposes. He was the most courteous of gamblers; he
+never did a sharp thing; never enforced a strict rule upon a novice of
+the game; tolerated every imaginable blunder of his partner with bland
+equanimity; and, in a word, if this great globe of ours had been a
+green-baize cloth, and all the men and women whist-players, Mr. Herman
+Merl had been the first gentleman in it, and carried off "all the
+honors" in his own hand.
+
+If he was highly skilled in every game, it was remarked of him that he
+never proposed play himself, nor was he ever known to make a wager: he
+always waited to be asked to make up a party, or to take or give the
+odds, as the case might be. To a very shrewd observer, this might have
+savored a little too much of a system; but shrewd observers are, after
+all, not the current coin in the society of young men, and Merl's
+conduct was eminently successful.
+
+Merl suited Martin admirably. Martin was that species of man which,
+of all others, is most assailable by flattery. A man of small
+accomplishments, he sang a little, rode a little, played, drew, fenced,
+fished, shot--all, a little--that is, somewhat better than others in
+general, and giving him that dangerous kind of pre-eminence from which,
+though the tumble never kills, it occurs often enough to bruise and
+humiliate. But, worse than this, it shrouds its possessor in a triple
+mail of vanity, that makes him the easy prey of all who minister to it.
+
+We seldom consider how much locality influences our intimacies, and how
+impossible it had been for us even to know in some places the people we
+have made friends of in another. Harry Martin would as soon have thought
+of proposing his valet at "Brookes's," as walk down Bond Street with Mr.
+Merl. Had he met him in London, every characteristic of the man would
+there have stood out in all the strong glare of contrast, but at the
+Cape it was different. Criticism would have been misplaced where all was
+irregular, and the hundred little traits--any one of which would have
+shocked him in England--were only smiled at as the eccentricities of a
+"good-natured poor fellow, who had no harm in him."
+
+Martin and Merl came to England in the same ship. It was a sudden
+thought of Merl's, only conceived the evening before she sailed; but
+Martin had lost a considerable sum at piquet to him on that night, and
+when signing the acceptances for payment, since he had not the ready
+money, somewhat peevishly remarked that it was hard he should not have
+his revenge. Whereupon Merl, tossing off a bumper of champagne, and
+appearing to speak under the influence of its stimulation, cried out,
+"Hang me, Captain, if you shall say that! I 'll go and take my passage
+in the 'Elphinstone.'" And he did so, and he gave the Captain his
+revenge! But of all the passions, there is not one less profitable to
+indulge in. They played morning, noon, and night, through long days of
+sickening calm, through dreary nights of storm and hurricane, and they
+scarcely lifted their heads at the tidings that the Needles were in
+sight, nor even questioned the pilot for news of England, when he
+boarded them in the Downs. Martin had grown much older during that same
+voyage; his temper, too, usually imbued with the easy indolence of his
+father's nature, had grown impatient and fretful. A galling sense of
+inferiority to Merl poisoned every minute of his life. He would not
+admit it; he rejected it, but back it came; and if it did not enter into
+his heart, it stood there knocking,--knocking for admission. Each time
+they sat down to play was a perfect duel to Martin.
+
+As for Merl, his well-schooled faculties never were ruffled nor excited.
+The game had no power to fascinate _him_, its vicissitudes had nothing
+new or surprising to him; intervals of ill-luck, days even of dubious
+fortune might occur, but he knew he would win in the end, just as
+he knew that though there might intervene periods of bad weather and
+adverse winds, the good ship "Elphinstone" would arrive at last, and, a
+day sooner or a day later, discharge passengers and freight on the banks
+of the Thames.
+
+You may forgive the man who has rivalled you in love, the banker whose
+"smash" has engulfed all your fortune, the violent political antagonist
+who has assailed you personally, and in the House, perhaps, answered the
+best speech you ever made by a withering reply. You may extend feelings
+of Christian charity to the reviewer who has "slashed" your new novel,
+the lawyer whose vindictive eloquence has exposed, the artist in "Punch"
+who has immortalized, you; but there is one man you never forgive, of
+whom you will never believe one good thing, and to whom you would wish a
+thousand evil ones,--he is your natural enemy, brought into the world
+to be your bane, born that he may be your tormentor; and this is the man
+who _always_ beats you at play! Happily, good reader, you may have no
+feelings of the gambler,--you may be of those to whom this fatal vice
+has never appealed, or appealed in vain; but if you _have_ "played," or
+even mixed with those who have, you could n't have failed to be struck
+with the fact that there is that one certain man from whom you never
+win! Wherever he is, there, too, is present your evil destiny! Now,
+there is no pardoning this,--the double injury of insult to your skill
+and damage to your pocket. Such a man as this becomes at last your
+master. You may sneer at his manners, scoff at his abilities, ridicule
+his dress, laugh at his vulgarity,--poor reprisals these! In his
+presence, the sense of that one superiority he possesses over you makes
+you quail! In the stern conflict, where your destiny and your capacity
+seem alike at issue, he conquers you,--not to-day or to-morrow, but ever
+and always! There he sits, arbiter of your fate,--only doubtful how long
+he may defer the day of your sentence!
+
+It is something in the vague indistinctness of this power--something
+that seems to typify the agency of the Evil One himself--that at once
+tortures and subdues you; and you ever hurry into fresh conflict with
+the ever-present consciousness of fresh defeat! We might have spared our
+reader this discursive essay, but that it pertains to our story. Such
+was the precise feeling entertained by Martin towards Merl. He hated
+him with all the concentration of his great hatred, and yet he could not
+disembarrass himself of his presence. He was ashamed of the man amongst
+his friends; he avoided him in all public places; he shrunk from
+his very contact as though infected; but he could not throw off his
+acquaintance, and he nourished in his heart a small ember of hope that
+one day or other the scale of fortune would turn, and he might win back
+again all he had ever lost, and stand free and unembarrassed as in the
+first hour he had met him! Fifty times had he consulted Fortune, as
+it were, to ask if this moment had yet arrived; but hitherto ever
+unsuccessfully,--Merl won on as before. Martin, however, invariably
+ceased playing when he discovered that his ill-luck continued. It was
+an experiment,--a mere pilot balloon to Destiny; and when he saw the
+direction adverse, he did not adventure on the grand ascent. It was
+impossible that a man of Merl's temperament and training should not have
+detected this game. There was not a phase of the gambler's mind with
+which he was not thoroughly familiar.
+
+Close intimacies, popularly called friendships, have always their
+secret motive, if we be but skilful enough to detect it. We see people
+associate together of widely different habits, and dispositions the most
+opposite, with nothing in common of station, rank, object, or pursuit.
+In such cases the riddle has always its key, could we only find it.
+
+Mr. Martin had been some weeks in Paris with his family, when a brief
+note informed him that Merl had arrived there. He despatched an answer
+still briefer, asking him to breakfast on the following morning; and it
+was in the acceptance of this same invitation we have now seen him.
+
+"Who's here just now?" said Merl, throwing down his napkin, and pushing
+his chair a little back from the table, while he disposed his short, fat
+legs into what he fancied was a most graceful attitude.
+
+"Here? Do you mean in Paris?" rejoined Martin, pettishly,--for he never
+suffered so painfully under this man's intimacy as when his manners
+assumed the pretension of fashion.
+
+"Yes,--of course,--I mean, who's in Paris?"
+
+"There are, I believe, about forty-odd thousand of our countrymen and
+countrywomen," said the other, half contemptuously.
+
+"Oh, I've no doubt; but my question took narrower bounds. I meant, who
+of _our_ set,--who of us?"
+
+Martin turned round, and fixing his eyes on him, scanned him from head
+to foot with a gaze of such intense insolence as no words could have
+equalled. For a while the Jew bore it admirably; but these efforts,
+after all, are only like the brief intervals a man can live under water,
+and where the initiated beats the inexperienced only by a matter of
+seconds. As Martin continued his stare, Merl's cheek tingled, grew red,
+and finally his whole face and forehead became scarlet.
+
+With an instinct like that of a surgeon who feels he has gone deep
+enough with his knife, Martin resumed his walk along the room without
+uttering a word.
+
+Merl opened the newspaper, and affected to read; his hand, however,
+trembled, and his eyes wandered listlessly over the columns, and then
+furtively were turned towards Martin as he paced the chamber in silence.
+
+"Do you think you can manage that little matter for me, Captain?" said
+he at last, and in a voice attuned to its very humblest key.
+
+"What little matter? Those two bills do you mean?" said Martin,
+suddenly.
+
+"Not at all. I 'm not the least pressed for cash. I alluded to the Club;
+you promised you 'd put me up, and get one of your popular friends to
+second me."
+
+"I remember," said Martin, evidently relieved from a momentary terror.
+"Lord Claude Willoughby or Sir Spencer Cavendish would be the men if we
+could find them."
+
+"Lord Claude, I perceive, is here; the paper mentions his name in the
+dinner company at the Embassy yesterday."
+
+"Do you know him?" asked Martin, with an air of innocence that Merl well
+comprehended as insult.
+
+"No. We 've met,--I think we 've played together; I remember once at
+Baden--"
+
+"Lord Claude Willoughby, sir," said a servant, entering with a card,
+"desires to know if you 're at home?"
+
+"And won't be denied if you are not," said his Lordship, entering at the
+same instant, and saluting Martin with great cordiality.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER II. MR. MERL
+
+The French have invented a slang word for a quality that deserves a
+more recognized epithet, and by the expression _chic_ have designated
+a certain property by which objects assert their undoubted superiority
+over all their counterfeits. Thus, your coat from Nugee's, your carriage
+from Leader's, your bracelet from Storr's, and your bonnet from Madame
+Palmyre, have all their own peculiar _chic_, or, in other words, possess
+a certain invisible, indescribable essence that stamps them as the best
+of their kind, with an excellence unattainable by imitation, and a charm
+all their own!
+
+Of all the products in which this magical property insinuates itself,
+there is not one to which it contributes so much as the man of fashion.
+He is the very type of _chic_. To describe him you are driven to
+a catalogue of negatives, and you only arrive at anything like a
+resemblance by an enumeration of the different things he is not.
+
+The gentleman who presented himself to Martin at the close of our
+last chapter was in many respects a good specimen of his order. He had
+entered the room, believing Martin to be there alone; but no sooner had
+he perceived another, and that other one not known to him, than all
+the buoyant gayety of his manner was suddenly toned down into a
+quiet seriousness; while, taking his friend's arm, he said in a low
+voice,--"If you 're busy, my dear Martin, don't hesitate for a moment
+about sending me off; I had not the slightest suspicion there was any
+one with you."
+
+"Nor is there," said Martin, with a supercilious glance at Merl, who
+was endeavoring in a dozen unsuccessful ways to seem unaware of the new
+arrival's presence.
+
+"I want to introduce him to you," said Martin.
+
+"No, no, my dear friend, on no account."
+
+"I must; there's no help for it," said Martin, impatiently, while he
+whispered something eagerly in the other's ear.
+
+"Well, then, some other day; another time--"
+
+"Here and now, Claude," said Martin, peremptorily; while, without
+waiting for reply, he said aloud, "Merl, I wish to present you to Lord
+Claude Willoughby,--Lord Claude, Mr. Herman Merl."
+
+Merl bowed and smirked and writhed as his Lordship, with a bland smile
+and a very slight bow, acknowledged the presentation.
+
+"Had the pleasure of meeting your Lordship at Baden two summers ago,"
+said the Jew, with an air meant to be the ideal of fashionable ease.
+
+"I was at Baden at the time you mention," said he, coldly.
+
+"I used to watch your Lordship's game with great attention; you won
+heavily, I think?"
+
+"I don't remember, just now," said he, carelessly; not, indeed, that
+such was the fact, or that he desired it should be thought so; he only
+wished to mark his sense of what he deemed an impertinence.
+
+"The man who can win at rouge-et-noir can do anything, in my opinion,"
+said Merl.
+
+"What odds are you taking on Rufus?" said Martin to Willoughby, and
+without paying the slightest attention to Merl's remark.
+
+"Eleven to one; but I'll not take it again. Hecuba is rising hourly, and
+some say she 'll be the favorite yet."
+
+"Is Rufus your Lordship's horse?" said the Jew, insinuatingly.
+
+Willoughby bowed, and continued to write in his note-book.
+
+"And you said the betting was eleven to one on the field, my Lord?"
+
+"It ought to be fourteen to one, at least."
+
+"I 'll give you fourteen to one, my Lord, just for the sake of a little
+interest in the race."
+
+Willoughby ceased writing, and looked at him steadfastly for a second or
+two. "I have not said that the odds were fourteen to one."
+
+"I understand you perfectly, my Lord; you merely thought that they would
+be, or, at least, ought to be."
+
+"Merl wants a bet with you, in fact," said Martin, as he applied alight
+to his meerschaum; "and if you won't have him, I will."
+
+"What shall it be, sir," said Lord Claude, pencil in hand; "in
+ponies--fifties?"
+
+"Oh, ponies, my Lord. I only meant it, just as I said, to give me
+something to care for in the race."
+
+"Will you put him up at the 'Cercle' after that?" whispered Martin, with
+a look of sly malice.
+
+"I'll tell you when the match is over," said Willoughby, laughing;
+"but if I won't, here 's one that will. That's a neat phaeton of
+Cavendish's." And at the same instant Martin opened the window, and made
+a signal with his handkerchief.
+
+"That's the thing for _you_, Merl," said Martin, pointing down to a
+splendid pair of dark chestnuts harnessed to a handsome phaeton. "It's
+worth five hundred pounds to any fellow starting an equipage to chance
+upon one of Cavendish's. He has not only such consummate taste in
+carriage and harness, but he makes his nags perfection."
+
+"He drives very neatly," said Willoughby.
+
+"What was it he gave for that near-side horse?--a thousand pounds, I
+think."
+
+"Twelve hundred and fifty, and refused a hundred for my bargain," said
+a very diminutive, shrewd-looking man of about five-and-thirty, who
+entered the room with great affectation of juvenility. "I bought him for
+a cab, never expecting to 'see his like again,' as Shakspeare says."
+
+"And you offered the whole concern yesterday to Damre-mont for fifty
+thousand francs?"
+
+"No, Harry, that's a mistake. I said I 'd play him a match at piquet,
+whether he gave seventy thousand for the equipage or nothing. It was he
+that proposed fifty thousand. Mine was a handsome offer, I think."
+
+"I call it a most munificent one," said Martin. "By the way, you don't
+know my friend here, Mr. Merl, Sir Spencer Cavendish." And the baronet
+stuck his glass in his eye, and scanned the stranger as unscrupulously
+as though he were a hack at Tattersairs.
+
+"Where did he dig him up, Claude?" whispered he, after a second.
+
+"In India, I fancy; or at the Cape."
+
+"That fellow has something to do with the hell in St. James's Street; I
+'ll swear I know his face."
+
+[Illustration: 029]
+
+"I 've been telling Merl that he 's in rare luck to find such a turn-out
+as that in the market; that is, if you still are disposed to sell."
+
+"Oh, yes, I'll sell it; give him the tiger, boots, cockade, and
+all,--everything except that Skye terrier. You shall have the whole,
+sir, for two thousand pounds; or, if you prefer it--"
+
+A certain warning look from Lord Claude suddenly arrested his words, and
+he added, after a moment,--"But I 'd rather sell it off, and think no
+more of it."
+
+"Try the nags; Sir Spencer, I'm sure, will have no objection," said
+Martin. But the baronet's face looked anything but concurrence with the
+proposal.
+
+"Take them a turn round the Bois de Boulogne, Merl," said Martin,
+laughing at his friend's distress.
+
+"And he may have the turn-out at his own price after the trial,"
+muttered Lord Claude, with a quiet smile.
+
+"Egad! I should think so," whispered Cavendish; "for, assuredly, I
+should never think of being seen in it again."
+
+"If Sir Spencer Cavendish has no objection,--if he would permit his
+groom to drive me just down the Boulevards and the Rue Rivoli--"
+
+The cool stare of the baronet did not permit him to finish. It was
+really a look far more intelligible than common observers might have
+imagined, for it conveyed something like recognition,--a faint approach
+to an intimation that said, "I 'm persuaded that we have met before."
+
+"Yes, that is the best plan. Let the groom have the ribbons," said
+Martin, laughing with an almost schoolboy enjoyment of a trick. "And
+don't lose time, Merl, for Sir Spencer would n't miss his drive in the
+Champs Elysees for any consideration."
+
+"Gentlemen, I am your very humble and much obliged servant!" said
+Cavendish, as soon as Merl had quitted the room. "If that distinguished
+friend of yours should not buy my carriage--"
+
+"But he will," broke in Martin; "he must buy it."
+
+"He ought, I think," said Lord Claude. "If I were in his place, there's
+only one condition I 'd stipulate for."
+
+"And that is--"
+
+"That you should drive with him one day--one would be enough--from the
+Barriere de l'Etoile to the Louvre."
+
+"This is all very amusing, gentlemen, most entertaining," said
+Cavendish, tartly; "but who is he?--I don't mean that,--but what is he?"
+
+"Martin's banker, I fancy," said Lord Claude.
+
+"Does he lend any sum from five hundred to twenty thousand on equitable
+terms on approved personal security?" said Cavendish, imitating the
+terms of the advertisements.
+
+"He 'll allow all he wins from you to remain in your hands at sixty per
+cent interest, if he doesn't want cash!" said Martin, angrily.
+
+"Oh, then, I 'm right. It is my little Moses of St. James's Street. He
+was n't always as flourishing as we see him now. Oh dear, if any man,
+three years back, had told me that this fellow would have proposed
+seating himself in my phaeton for a drive round Paris, I don't
+believe--nay, I 'm sure--my head couldn't have stood it."
+
+"You know him, then?" said Willoughby.
+
+"I should think every man about town a dozen years ago must know him.
+There was a kind of brood of these fellows; we used to call them Joseph
+and his brethren. One sold cigars, another vended maraschino; this
+discounted your bills, that took your plate or your horses--ay, or your
+wardrobe--on a bill of sale, and handed you over two hundred pounds to
+lose at his brother's hell in the evening. Most useful scoundrels they
+were,--equally expert on 'Change and in the Coulisses of the Opera!"
+
+"I will say this for him," said Martin, "he 's not a hard fellow to deal
+with; he does not drive a bargain ungenerously."
+
+"Your hangman is the tenderest fellow in the world," said Cavendish,
+"till the final moment. It's only in adjusting the last turn under the
+ear that he shows himself 'ungenerous.'"
+
+"Are you deep with him, Harry?" said Willoughby, who saw a sudden
+paleness come over Martin's face.
+
+"Too deep!" said he, with a bitter effort at a laugh,--"a great deal too
+deep."
+
+"We 're all too deep with those fellows," said Cavendish, as, stretching
+out his legs, he contemplated the shape and lustre of his admirably
+fitting boots. "One begins by some trumpery loan or so; thence you go
+on to a play transaction or a betting-book with them, and you end--egad,
+you end by having the fellow at dinner!"
+
+"Martin wants his friend to be put up for the Club," said Willoughby.
+
+"Eh, what? At the 'Cercle,' do you mean?"
+
+"Why not? Is it so very select?"
+
+"No, not exactly that; there are the due proportions of odd reputations,
+half reputations, and no reputations; but remember, Martin, that however
+black they be now, they all began white. When they started, at least,
+they were gentlemen."
+
+"I suspect that does not make the case much better."
+
+"No; but it makes _ours_ better, in associating with them. Come, come,
+you know as well as any one that this is impossible, and that if you
+should do it to-day, I should follow the lead to-morrow, and our
+Club become only an asylum for unpayable tailors and unappeasable
+bootmakers!"
+
+"You go too fast, sir," exclaimed Martin, in a tone of anger. "I never
+intended to pay my debts by a white ball in the ballot-box, nor do I
+think that Mr. Merl would relinquish his claim on some thousand
+pounds, even for the honor of being the club colleague of Sir Spencer
+Cavendish."
+
+"Then I know him better," said the other, tapping his-boot with his
+cane; "he would, and he 'd think it a right good bargain besides. From
+seeing these fellows at racecourses and betting-rooms, always cold,
+calm, and impassive, never depressed by ill-luck, as little elated
+by good, we fall into the mistake of esteeming them as a kind of
+philosophers in life, without any of those detracting influences that
+make you and Willoughby, and even myself, sometimes rash and headstrong.
+It is a mistake, though; they have a weakness,--and a terrible
+weakness,--which is, their passion to be thought in fashionable society.
+Yes, they can't resist that! All their shrewd calculations, all their
+artful schemes, dissolve into thin air, at the bare prospect of being
+recognized 'in society.' I have studied this flaw in them for many a
+year back. I 'll not say I haven't derived advantage from it."
+
+"And yet you 'd refuse him admission into a club," cried Martin.
+
+"Certainly. A club is a Democracy, where each man, once elected, is
+the equal of his neighbor. Society is, on the other hand, an absolute
+monarchy, where your rank flows from the fountain of honor,--the host.
+Take him along with you to her Grace's 'tea,' or my Lady's reception
+this evening, and see if the manner of the mistress of the house does
+not assign him his place, as certainly as if he were marshalled to it by
+a lackey. All his mock tranquillity and assumed ease of manner will not
+be proof against the icy dignity of a grande dame; but in the Club he's
+as good as the best, or he'll think so, which comes to the same thing."
+
+"Cavendish is right,--that is, as much so as he can be in anything,"
+said Willoughby, laughing. "Don't put him up, Martin."
+
+"Then what am I to do? I have given a sort of a pledge. He is not easily
+put off; he does not lightly relinquish an object."
+
+"Take him off the scent. Introduce him at the Embassy. Take him to the
+Courcelles."
+
+"This is intolerable," broke in Martin, angrily. "I ask for advice, and
+you reply by a sneer and a mockery."
+
+"Not at all. I never was more serious. But here he comes! Look only how
+the fellow lolls back in the phaeton. Just see how contemptuously he
+looks down on the foot-travellers. I'd lay on another hundred for that
+stare; for, assuredly, he has already made the purchase in his own
+mind."
+
+"Well, Merl, what do you say to Sir Spencer's taste in horseflesh?" said
+Martin, as he entered.
+
+"They 're nice hacks; very smart."
+
+"Nice hacks!" broke in Cavendish, "why, sir, they're both thoroughbred;
+the near horse is by Tiger out of a Crescent mare, and the off one won
+the Acton steeple-chase. When you said hacks, therefore, you made a
+cruel blunder."
+
+"Well, it's what a friend of mine called them just now," said Merl;
+"and remarked, moreover, that the large horse had been slightly fired on
+the--the--I forget the name he gave it."
+
+"You probably remember your friend's name better," said Cavendish,
+sneeringly. "Who was he, pray?"
+
+"Massingbred,--we call him Jack Massingbred; he's the Member for
+somewhere in Ireland."
+
+"Poor Jack!" muttered Cavendish, "how hard up he must be!"
+
+"But you like the equipage, Merl?" said Martin, who had a secret
+suspicion that it was now Cavendish's turn for a little humiliation.
+
+"Well, it's neat. The buggy--"
+
+"The buggy! By Jove, sir, you have a precious choice of epithets! Please
+to let me inform you that full-blooded horses are not called hacks, nor
+one of Leader's park-phaetons is not styled a buggy."
+
+Martin threw himself into a chair, and after a moment's struggle, burst
+out into a fit of laughter.
+
+"I think we may make a deal after all, Sir Spencer," said Merl, who
+accepted the baronet's correction with admirable self-control.
+
+"No, sir; perfectly impossible; take my word for it, any transaction
+would be difficult between us. Good-bye, Martin; adieu, Claude." And
+with this brief leave-taking the peppery Sir Spencer left the room, more
+flushed and fussy than he had entered it.
+
+"If you knew Sir Spencer Cavendish as long as we have known him, Mr.
+Merl," said Lord Claude, in his blandest of voices, "you'd not be
+surprised at this little display of warmth. It is the only weakness in a
+very excellent fellow."
+
+"I 'm hot, too, my Lord," said Merl, with the very slightest
+accentuation of the "initial H," "and he was right in saying that
+dealings would be difficult between us."
+
+"You mentioned Massingbred awhile ago, Merl. Why not ask him to second
+you at the Club?" said Martin, rousing himself suddenly from a train of
+thought.
+
+"Well, somehow, I thought that he and you did n't exactly pull together;
+that there was an election contest,--a kind of a squabble."
+
+"I 'm sure that _he_ never gave you any reason to suspect a coldness
+between us; I know that _I_ never did," said Martin, calmly. "We are but
+slightly acquainted, it is true, but I should be surprised to learn that
+there was any ill-feeling between us."
+
+"One's opponent at the hustings is pretty much the same thing as one's
+adversary at a game,--he is against you to-day, and may be your partner
+to-morrow; so that, putting even better motives aside, it were bad
+policy to treat him as an implacable enemy," said Lord Claude, with his
+accustomed suavity. "Besides, Mr. Merl, you know the crafty maxim of the
+French moralist, 'Always treat your enemies as though one day they were
+to become your friends.'" And with this commonplace, uttered in a tone
+and with a manner that gave it all the semblance of a piece of special
+advice, his Lordship took his hat, and, squeezing Martin's hand, moved
+towards the door.
+
+"Come in here for a moment," said Martin, pushing open the door into an
+adjoining dressing-room, and closing it carefully after them. "So much
+for wanting to do a good-natured thing," cried he, peevishly. "I thought
+to help Cavendish to get rid of those 'screws,' and the return he makes
+me is to outrage this man."
+
+"What are your dealings with him?" asked Willoughby" anxiously.
+
+"Play matters, play debts, loans, securities, post-obits, and every
+other blessed contrivance you can think of to swamp a man's present
+fortune and future prospects. I don't think he is a bad fellow; I mean,
+I don't suspect he 'd press heavily upon me, with any fair treatment on
+my part. My impression, in short, is that he'd forgive my not meeting
+his bill, but he 'd never get over my not inviting him to a dinner!"
+
+"Well," said Willoughby, encouragingly, "we live in admirable times for
+such practices. There used to be a vulgar prejudice in favor of men
+that one knew, and names that the world was familiar with. It is gone
+by entirely; and if you only present your friend--don't wince at the
+title--your friend, I say--as the rich Mr. Merl, the man who owns shares
+in mines, canals, and collieries, whose speculations count by tens of
+thousands, and whose credit rises to millions, you'll never be called on
+to apologize for his parts of speech, or make excuse for his solecisms
+in good breeding."
+
+"Will you put up his name, then, at the Club?" asked Martin, eagerly.
+"It would not do for _me_ to do so."
+
+"To be sure I will, and Massingbred shall be his seconder." And with
+this cheering pledge Lord Claude bade him good-bye, and left him free
+to return to Mr. Merl in the drawing-room. That gentleman had, however,
+already departed, to the no small astonishment of Martin, who now threw
+himself lazily down on a sofa, to ponder over his difficulties and weave
+all manner of impracticable schemes to meet them.
+
+They were, indeed, very considerable embarrassments. He had raised
+heavy sums at most exorbitant rates, and obtained money--for the
+play-table--by pledging valuable reversions of various kinds, for Merl
+somehow was the easiest of all people to deal with; one might have
+fancied that he lent his money only to afford himself an occasion of
+sympathy with the borrower, just as he professed that he merely
+betted "to have a little interest in the race." Whatever Martin, then,
+suggested in the way of security never came amiss; whether it were a
+farm, a mill, a quarry, or a lead mine, he accepted it at once, and, as
+Martin deemed, without the slightest knowledge or investigation, little
+suspecting that there was not a detail of his estate, nor a resource
+of his property, with which the wily Jew was not more familiar than
+himself. In fact, Mr. Merl was an astonishing instance of knowledge on
+every subject by which money was to be made, and he no more advanced
+loans upon an encumbered estate than he backed the wrong horse or
+bid for a copied picture. There is a species of practical information
+excessively difficult to describe, which is not connoisseurship, but
+which supplies the place of that quality, enabling him who possesses
+it to estimate the value of an object, without any admixture of those
+weakening prejudices which beset your mere man of taste. Now, Mr. Merl
+had no caprices about the color of the horse he backed, no more than
+for the winning seat at cards; he could not be warped from his true
+interests by any passing whim, and whether he cheapened a Correggio or
+discounted a bill, he was the same calm, dispassionate calculator of the
+profit to come of the transaction.
+
+Latterly, however, he had thrown out a hint to Martin that he was
+curious to see some of that property on which he had made such large
+advances; and this wish--which, according to the frame of mind he
+happened to be in at the moment, struck Martin as a mere caprice or a
+direct menace--was now the object of his gloomy reveries. We have
+not tracked his steps through the tortuous windings of his moneyed
+difficulties; it is a chapter in life wherein there is wonderfully
+little new to record; the Jew-lender and his associates, the renewed
+bill and the sixty per cent, the non-restored acceptances flitting about
+the world, sold and resold as damaged articles, but always in the end
+falling into the hands of a "most respectable party," and proceeded
+on as a true debt; then, the compromises for time, for silence, for
+secrecy,--since these transactions are rarely, if ever, devoid of some
+unhappy incident that would not bear publicity; and there are invariably
+little notes beginning "Dear Moses," which would argue most ill-chosen
+intimacies. These are all old stories, and the "Times" and the
+"Chronicle" are full of them. There is a terrible sameness about them,
+too. The dupe and the villain are stock characters that never change,
+and the incidents are precisely alike in every case. Humble folk, who
+are too low for fashionable follies, wonder how the self-same artifices
+have always the same success, and cannot conceal their astonishment at
+the innocence of our young men about town; and yet the mystery is
+easily solved. The dupe is, in these cases, just as unprincipled as
+his betrayer, and their negotiation is simply a game of skill, in which
+Israel is not always the winner.
+
+If we have not followed Martin's steps through these dreary labyrinths,
+it is because the path is a worn one; for the same reason, too, we
+decline to keep him company in his ponderings over them. All that his
+troubles had taught him was an humble imitation of the tricky natures of
+those he dealt with; so that he plotted and schemed and contrived, till
+his very head grew weary with the labor. And so we leave him.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER III. A YOUNG DUCHESS AND AN OLD FRIEND
+
+Like a vast number of people who have passed years in retirement, Lady
+Dorothea was marvellously disappointed with "the world" when she went
+back to it. It was not at all the kind of thing she remembered, or
+at least fancied it to be. There were not the old gradations of class
+strictly defined; there was not the old veneration for rank and station;
+"society" was invaded by hosts of unknown people, "names one had never
+heard of." The great stars of fashion of her own day had long since set,
+and the new celebrities had never as much as heard of her. The great
+houses of the Faubourg were there, it is true; but with reduced
+households and dimly lighted salons, they were but sorry representatives
+of the splendor her memory had invested them with.
+
+Now the Martins were installed in one of the finest apartments of the
+finest quarter in Paris. They were people of unquestionable station,
+they had ample means, lacked for none of the advantages which the world
+demands from those who seek its favors; and yet there they were, just as
+unknown, unvisited, and unsought after, as if they were the Joneses or
+the Smiths, "out" for a month's pleasuring on the Continent.
+
+A solitary invitation to the Embassy to dinner was not followed by any
+other attention; and so they drove along the Boulevards and through the
+Bois de Boulogne, and saw some thousands of gay, bright-costumed people,
+all eager for pleasure, all hurrying on to some scheme of amusement or
+enjoyment, while they returned moodily to their handsome quarter, as
+much excluded from all participation in what went on around them as
+though they were natives of Hayti.
+
+Martin sauntered down to the reading-room, hoping vainly to fall in with
+some one he knew. He lounged listlessly along the bright streets, till
+their very glare addled him; he stared at the thousand new inventions of
+luxury and ease the world had discovered since he had last seen it, and
+then he plodded gloomily homeward, to dine and listen to her Ladyship's
+discontented criticism upon the tiresome place and the odious people who
+filled it. Paris was, indeed, a deception and a snare to them! So
+far from finding it cheap, the expense of living--as they lived--was
+considerably greater than at London. It was a city abounding in
+luxuries, but all costly. The details which are in England reserved for
+days of parade and display, were here daily habits, and these were now
+to be indulged in with all the gloom of solitude and isolation.
+
+What wonder, then, if her Ladyship's temper was ruffled, and her
+equanimity unbalanced by such disappointments? In vain she perused the
+list of arrivals to find out some distinguished acquaintance; in vain
+she interrogated her son as to what was going on, and who were there.
+The Captain only frequented the club, and could best chronicle the names
+that were great at whist or illustrious at billiards.
+
+"It surely cannot be the season here," cried she, one morning,
+peevishly, "for really there isn't a single person one has ever heard of
+at Paris."
+
+"And yet this is a strong catalogue," cried the Captain, with a
+malicious twinkle in his eye. "Here are two columns of somebodies,
+who were present at Madame de Luygnes' last night."
+
+"You can always fill salons, if that be all," said she, angrily.
+
+"Yes, but not with Tour du Pins, Tavannes, Rochefoucaulds, Howards
+of Maiden, and Greys of Allington, besides such folk as Pahlen,
+Lichtenstein, Colonna, and so forth."
+
+"How is it then, that one never sees them?" cried she, more eagerly.
+
+"Say, rather, how is it one doesn't know them," cried Martin, "for here
+we are seven weeks, and, except to that gorgeous fellow in the cocked
+hat at the porter's lodge, I have never exchanged a salute with a human
+being."
+
+"There are just three houses, they say, in all Paris, to one or other of
+which one must be presented," said the Captain--"Madame de Luygnes, the
+Duchesse de Cour-celles, and Madame de Mirecourt."
+
+"That Madame de Luygnes was your old mistress, was she not, Miss
+Henderson?" asked Lady Dorothea, haughtily.
+
+"Yes, my Lady," was the calm reply.
+
+"And who are these other people?"
+
+"The Duc de Mirecourt was married to 'Mademoiselle,' the daughter of the
+Duchesse de Luygnes."
+
+"Have you heard or seen anything of them since you came here?" asked her
+Ladyship.
+
+"No, my Lady, except a hurried salute yesterday from a carriage as we
+drove in. I just caught sight of the Duchesse as she waved her hand to
+me."
+
+"Oh, I saw it. I returned the salutation, never suspecting it was meant
+for _you_. And she was your companion--your dear friend--long ago?"
+
+"Yes, my Lady," said Kate, bending down over her work, but showing in
+the crimson flush that spread over her neck how the speech had touched
+her.
+
+"And you used to correspond, I think?" continued her Ladyship.
+
+"We did so, my Lady."
+
+"And she dropped it, of course, when she married,--she had other things
+to think of?"
+
+"I 'm afraid, my Lady, the lapse was on _my_ side," said Kate, scarcely
+repressing a smile at her own hardihood.
+
+"_Your_ side! Do you mean to say that you so far forgot what was due
+to the station of the Duchesse de Mirecourt, that you left her letter
+unreplied to?"
+
+"Not exactly, my Lady."
+
+"Then, pray, what do you mean?"
+
+Kate paused for a second or two, and then, in a very calm and collected
+voice, replied,--"I told the Duchesse, in my last letter, that I should
+write no more,--that my life was thrown in a wild, unfrequented region,
+where no incident broke the monotony, and that were I to continue our
+correspondence, my letters must degenerate into a mere selfish record of
+my own sentiments, as unprofitable to read as ungraceful to write; and
+so I said good-bye--or _au revoir_, at least--till other scenes might
+suggest other thoughts."
+
+"A most complimentary character of our Land of the West, certainly!
+I really was not aware before that Cro' Martin was regarded as an
+'oubliette.'"
+
+Kate made no answer,--a silence which seemed rather to irritate than
+appease her Ladyship.
+
+"I hope you included the family in your dreary picture. I trust it was
+not a mere piece of what artists call still life, Miss Henderson?"
+
+"No, my Lady," said she, with a deep sigh; but the tone and manner of
+the rejoinder were anything but apologetic.
+
+"Now I call that as well done as anything one sees in Hyde Park," cried
+the Captain, directing attention as he spoke to a very handsome chariot
+which had just driven up to the door. "They're inquiring for somebody
+here," continued he, as he watched the Chasseur as he came and went from
+the carriage to the house.
+
+"There's a Grandee of Spain, or something of that kind, lives on the
+fourth floor, I think," said Martin, dryly.
+
+"The Duchesse de Mirecourt, my Lady," said a servant, entering, "begs to
+know if your Ladyship will receive her?"
+
+Kate started at the words, and her color rose till her cheeks were
+crimsoned.
+
+"A visit, I suspect, rather for you than me, Miss Henderson," said Lady
+Dorothea, in a half-whisper; and then turning to her servant, nodded her
+acquiescence.
+
+"I 'm off," said Martin, rising suddenly to make his escape.
+
+"And I too," said the Captain, as he made his exit by an opposite door.
+
+The folding-doors of the apartment were at the same moment thrown wide,
+and the Duchess entered. Very young,--almost girlish, indeed,--she
+combined in her appearance the charming freshness of youth with that
+perfection of gracefulness which attaches to the higher classes
+of French society, and although handsome, more striking from the
+fascination of manner than for any traits of beauty. Courtesying
+slightly, but deferentially, to Lady Dorothea, she apologized for her
+intrusion by the circumstance of having, the day before, caught sight of
+her "dear governess and dear friend--" And as she reached thus far, the
+deep-drawn breathing of another attracted her. She turned and saw Kate,
+who, pale as a statue, stood leaning on a chair. In an instant she
+was in her arms, exclaiming, in a rapture of delight, "My dear, dear
+Kate,--my more than sister! You would forgive me, madam," said she,
+addressing Lady Dorothea, "if you but knew what we were to each other.
+Is it not so, Kate?"
+
+A faint tremulous motion of the lips--all colorless as they were--was
+the only reply to the speech; but the young Frenchwoman needed none, but
+turning to her Ladyship, poured forth with native volubility a story of
+their friendship, the graceful language in which she uttered it lending
+those choice phrases which never seem exaggerations of sentiment till
+they be translated into other tongues. Mingling her praises with half
+reproaches, she drew a picture of Kate so flattering that Lady Dorothea
+could not help a sense of shrinking terror that one should speak in such
+terms of the governess.
+
+"And now, dearest," added she, turning to Kate, "are we to see a great
+deal of each other? When can you come to me? Pardon me, madam, this
+question should be addressed to you."
+
+"Miss Henderson is my secretary, Madame la Duchesse; she is also my
+companion," said Lady Dorothea, haughtily; "but I can acknowledge claims
+which take date before my own. She shall be always at liberty when you
+wish for her."
+
+"How kind, how good of you!" cried the Duchess. "I could have been
+certain of that. I knew that my dear Kate must be loved by all around
+her. We have a little _fete_ on Wednesday at St. Germain. May I bespeak
+her for that day?"
+
+"Her Ladyship suffers her generosity to trench upon her too far," said
+Kate, in a low voice. "I am in a manner necessary to her,--that is, my
+absence would be inconvenient."
+
+"But her Ladyship will doubtless be in the world herself that evening.
+There is a ball at the Duchesse de Sargance, and the Austrian Minister
+has something," rattled on the lively Duchess. "Paris is so gay just
+now, so full of pleasant people, and all so eager for enjoyment. Don't
+you find it so, my Lady?"
+
+"I go but little into society!" said Lady Dorothea, stiffly.
+
+"How strange! and I--I cannot live without it. Even when we go to our
+Chateau at Roche-Mire I carry away with me all my friends who will
+consent to come. We try to imitate that delightful life of your country
+houses, and make up that great family party which is the _beau ideal_ of
+social enjoyment."
+
+"And you like a country life, then?" asked her Ladyship.
+
+"To be sure. I love the excursions on horseback, the forest drives, the
+evening walks in the trellised vines, the parties one makes to see a
+thousand things one never looks at afterwards; the little dinners on the
+grass, with all their disasters, and the moonlight drive homewards, half
+joyous, half romantic,--not to speak of that charming frankness by which
+every one makes confession of his besetting weakness, and each has some
+little secret episode of his own life to tell the others. All but Kate
+here," cried she, laughingly, "who never revealed anything."
+
+"Madame la Duchesse will, I 'm sure, excuse my absence; she has
+doubtless many things she would like to say to her friend alone," said
+Lady Dorothea, rising and courtesying formally; and the young Duchess
+returned the salutation with equal courtesy and respect.
+
+"My dear, dear Kate," cried she, throwing her arms around her as the
+door closed after her Ladyship, "how I have longed for this moment,
+to tell you ten thousand things about myself and hear from you as many
+more! And first, dearest, are you happy? for you look more serious, more
+thoughtful than you used,--and paler, too."
+
+"Am I so?" asked Kate, faintly.
+
+"Yes. When you're not speaking, your brows grow stern and your lips
+compressed. Your features have not that dear repose, as Giorgevo used to
+call it. Poor fellow! how much in love he was, and you 've never asked
+for him!"
+
+"I never thought of him!" said she, with a smile.
+
+"Nor of Florian, Kate!"
+
+"Nor even of him."
+
+[Illustration: 044]
+
+"And yet that poor fellow was really in love,--nay, don't laugh, Kate,
+I know it. He gave up his career, everything he had in life,--he was
+a Secretary of Legation, with good prospects,--all to win your favor,
+becoming a 'Carbonaro,' or a 'Montagnard,' or something or other that
+swears to annihilate all kings and extirpate monarchy."
+
+"And after that?" asked Kate, with more of interest.
+
+"After that, ma chere, they sent him to the galleys; I forget exactly
+where, but I think it was in Sicily. And then there was that Hungarian
+Count Nemescz, that wanted to kill somebody who picked up your bouquet
+out of the Grand Canal at Venice."
+
+"And whom, strangely enough, I met and made acquaintance with in
+Ireland. His name is Massingbred."
+
+"Not the celebrity, surely,--the young politician who made such a
+sensation by a first speech in Parliament t'other day? He's all the rage
+here. Could it be him?"
+
+"Possibly enough," said she, carelessly. "He had very good abilities,
+and knew it."
+
+"He comes to us occasionally, but I scarcely have any acquaintance with
+him. But this is not telling me of yourself, child. Who and what are
+these people you are living with? Do they value my dear Kate as they
+ought? Are they worthy of having her amongst them?"
+
+"I 'm afraid not," said Kate, with a smile. "They do not seem at all
+impressed with the blessing they enjoy, and only treat me as one of
+themselves."
+
+"But, seriously, child, are they as kind as they should be? That old
+lady is, to my thinking, as austere as an Archduchess."
+
+"I like her," said Kate; "that is, I like her cold, reserved manner,
+unbending as it is, which only demands the quiet duties of servitude,
+and neither asks nor wishes for affection. She admits me to no
+friendship, but she exacts no attachment."
+
+"And you like this?"
+
+"I did not say I should like it from _you!_ said Kate, pressing the hand
+she held fervently to her lips, while her pale cheek grew faintly red.
+
+"And you go into the world with her,--at least _her_ world?"
+
+"She has none here. Too haughty for second-rate society, and unknown to
+those who form the first class at Paris, she never goes out."
+
+"But she would--she would like to do so?"
+
+"I 'm sure she would."
+
+"Then mamma shall visit her. You know she is everything here; her house
+is the rendezvous of all the distinguished people, and, once seen in her
+salons, my Lady--how do you call her?"
+
+"Lady Dorothea Martin."
+
+"I can't repeat it--but no matter--her Ladyship shall not want for
+attentions. Perhaps she would condescend to come to me on Wednesday?
+Dare I venture to ask her?"
+
+Kate hesitated, and the Duchess quickly rejoined,--"No, dearest, you are
+quite right; it would be hazardous, too abrupt, too unceremonious. You
+will, however, be with us; and I long to present you to all my friends,
+and show them one to whom I owe so much, and ought to be indebted to
+for far more. I 'll send for you early, that we may have a long morning
+together." And so saying, she arose to take leave.
+
+"I feel as though I 'll scarcely believe I had seen you when you have
+gone," said Kate, earnestly. "I'll fancy it all a dream--or rather, that
+my life since we met has been one, and that we had never parted."
+
+"Were we not very happy then, Kate?" said the Duchess, with a half-sigh;
+"happier, perhaps, than we may ever be again."
+
+"_You_ must not say so, at all events," said Kate, once more embracing
+her. And they parted.
+
+Kate arose and watched the splendid equipage as it drove away, and then
+slowly returned to her place at the work-table. She did not, however,
+resume her embroidery, but sat deep in reflection, with her hands
+clasped before her.
+
+"Poor fellow!" said she, at length, "a galley-slave, and Massingbred a
+celebrity! So much for honesty and truth in this good world of ours! Can
+it always go on thus? That is the question I'm curious to hear solved.
+A little time may, perhaps, reveal it!" So saying to herself, she leaned
+her head upon her hand, deep lost in thought.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IV. A VERY GREAT FAVOR
+
+Amongst the embarrassments of story-telling there is one which, to be
+appreciated, must have been experienced; it is, however, sufficiently
+intelligible to claim sympathy even by indicating,--we mean the
+difficulty a narrator has in the choice of those incidents by which
+his tale is to be marked out, and the characters who fill it adequately
+depicted.
+
+It is quite clear that a great number of events must occur in the story
+of every life of which no record can be made; some seem too trivial,
+some too irrelevant for mention, and yet, when we come to reflect upon
+real life itself, how many times do we discover that what appeared to be
+but the veriest trifles were the mainsprings of an entire existence,
+and the incidents which we deemed irrelevant were the hidden links
+that connected a whole chain of events? How easy, then, to err in the
+selection! This difficulty presents itself strongly to us at present; a
+vast number of circumstances rise before us from which we must refrain,
+lest they should appear to indicate a road we are not about to travel;
+and, at the same time, we feel the want of those very events to
+reconcile what may well seem contradictions in our history.
+
+It not unfrequently happens that an apology is just as tiresome as
+the offence it should excuse; and so, without further explanation, we
+proceed. Lady Dorothea soon found herself as much sought after as she
+had previously been neglected. The Duchesse de Luygnes was the great
+leader of fashion at Paris; and the marked attentions by which she
+distinguished her Ladyship at once established her position. Of course
+her unquestionable claim to station, and her own high connections
+rendered the task less difficult; while it imparted to Lady Dorothea's
+own manner and bearing that degree of dignity and calm which never
+accompany an insecure elevation.
+
+With such refinement of delicacy, such exquisite tact, was every step
+managed that her Ladyship was left to suppose every attention she
+received sprung out of her own undeniable right to them, and to the
+grace and charm of a manner which really had had its share of success
+some five-and-thirty years before. The gloomy isolation she had passed
+through gave a stronger contrast to the enjoyment of her present life;
+and for the first time for years she regained some of that courtly
+elegance of address which in her youth had pre-eminently distinguished
+her. The change had worked favorably in her temper also; and Martin
+perceived, with astonishment, that she neither made injurious
+comparisons between the present and the past, nor deemed the age they
+lived in one of insufferable vulgarity. It would scarcely have been
+possible for Lady Dorothea not to connect her altered position with the
+friendship between Kate Henderson and her former pupil; she knew it, and
+she felt it. All her self-esteem could not get over this consciousness;
+but it was a humiliation reserved for her own heart, since nothing in
+Kate's manner indicated even a suspicion of the fact. On the contrary,
+never had she shown herself more submissive and dependent. The duties
+of her office, multiplied as they were tenfold by her Ladyship's
+engagements, were all punctually acquitted, and with a degree of tact
+and cleverness that obtained from Lady Dorothea the credit of a charming
+note-writer. Nor was she indifferent to the effect Kate produced in
+society, where her beauty and fascination had already made a deep
+impression.
+
+Reserving a peculiar deference and respect for all her intercourse with
+Lady Dorothea, Kate Henderson assumed to the world at large the ease and
+dignity of one whose station was the equal of any. There was nothing in
+her air or bearing that denoted the dependant; there was rather a dash
+of haughty superiority, which did not scruple to avow itself and bid
+defiance to any bold enough to question its claims. Even this was a
+secret flattery to Lady Dorothea's heart; and she saw with satisfaction
+the success of that imperious tone which to herself was subdued to
+actual humility.
+
+Lady Dorothea Martin and her beautiful companion were now celebrities
+at Paris; and, assuredly, no city of the world knows how to shower
+more fascinations on those it favors. Life became to them a round of
+brilliant festivities. They received invitations from every quarter, and
+everywhere were met with that graceful welcome so sure to greet those
+whose airs and whose dress are the ornaments of a salon. They "received"
+at home, too; and her Ladyship's Saturdays were about the most exclusive
+of all Parisian receptions. Tacitly, at least, the whole management and
+direction of these "Evenings" was committed to Kate. Martin strictly
+abstained from a society in every way distasteful to him. The Captain
+had come to care for nothing but play, so that the Club was his only
+haunt; and it was the rarest of all events to see him pass even a few
+minutes in the drawing-room. He had, besides, that degree of shrinking
+dislike to Kate Henderson which a weak man very often experiences
+towards a clever and accomplished girl. When he first joined his family
+at Paris, he was struck by her great beauty and the elegance of a manner
+that might have dignified any station, and he fell partly in love,--that
+is to say, as much in love as a captain of hussars could permit himself
+to feel for a governess. He condescended to make small advances, show
+her petty attentions, and even distinguish her by that flattering stare,
+with his glass to his eye, which he had known to be what the poet calls
+"blush-compelling" in many a fair cheek in provincial circles.
+
+To his marvellous discomfiture, however, these measures were not
+followed by any success. She never as much as seemed aware of them, and
+treated him with the same polite indifference, as though he had been
+neither a hussar nor a lady-killer. Of course he interpreted this as a
+piece of consummate cunning; he had no other measure for her capacity
+than would have been suited to his own. She was a deep one, evidently
+bent on drawing him on, and entangling him in some stupid declaration,
+and so he grew cautious. But, somehow, his reserve provoked as little
+as his boldness. She did not change in the least; she treated him with a
+quiet, easy sort of no-notice,--the most offensive thing possible to one
+bent upon being impressive, and firmly persuaded that he need only wish,
+to be the conqueror.
+
+Self-worship was too strong in him to suffer a single doubt as to his
+own capacity for success, and therefore the only solution to the mystery
+of her manner was its being an artful scheme, which time and a little
+watching would surely explain. Time went on, and yet he grew none the
+wiser; Kate continued the same impassive creature as at first. She never
+sought,--never avoided him. She met him without constraint,--without
+pleasure, too. They never became intimate, while there was no distance
+in their intercourse; till at last, wounded in his self-esteem, he
+began to feel that discomfort in her presence which only waits for the
+slightest provocation to become actual dislike.
+
+With that peevishness that belongs to small minds, he would have been
+glad to have discovered some good ground for hating her; and a dozen
+times a day did he fancy that he had "hit the blot," but somehow he
+always detected his mistake erelong; and thus did he live on in that
+tantalizing state of uncertainty and indecision which combines about as
+much suffering as men of his stamp are capable of feeling.
+
+If Lady Dorothea never suspected the degree of influence Kate silently
+exercised over her, the Captain saw it palpably, and tried to nourish
+the knowledge into a ground for dislike. But somehow she would no more
+suffer herself to be hated than to be loved, and invariably baffled
+all his attempts to "get up" an indignation against her. By numberless
+devices--too slight, too evanescent to be called regular coquetry--she
+understood how to conciliate him, even in his roughest moods, while she
+had only to make the very least possible display of her attractions to
+fascinate him in his happier moments. The gallant hussar was not much
+given to self-examination. It was one of the last positions he would
+have selected; and yet he had confessed to his own heart that, though he
+'d not like to marry her himself, he 'd be sorely tempted to shoot any
+man who made her his wife.
+
+Lady Dorothea and Kate Henderson were seated one morning engaged in the
+very important task of revising the invitation-book,--weeding out the
+names of departed acquaintance, and canvassing the claims of those who
+should succeed them. The rigid criticism as to eligibility showed how
+great an honor was the card for her Ladyship's "Tea." While they were
+thus occupied, Captain Martin entered the room with an open letter in
+his hand, his air and manner indicating flurry, if not actual agitation.
+
+"Sorry to interrupt a privy council," said he, "but I've come to ask
+a favor,--don't look frightened; it's not for a woman, my Lady,--but I
+want a card for your next Saturday, for a male friend of mine."
+
+"Kate has just been telling me that 'our men' are too numerous."
+
+"Impossible. Miss Henderson knows better than any one that the success
+of these things depends on having a host of men,--all ages, all classes,
+all sorts of people," said he, indolently.
+
+"I think we have complied with your theory," said she, pointing to the
+book before her. "If our ladies are chosen for their real qualities, the
+men have been accepted with a most generous forbearance."
+
+"One more, then, will not damage the mixture."
+
+"Of course, Captain Martin, it is quite sufficient that he is a friend
+of yours--that you wish it--"
+
+"But it is no such thing, Miss Henderson," broke in Lady Dorothea. "We
+have already given deep umbrage in many quarters--very high quarters,
+too--by refusals; and a single mistake would be fatal to us."
+
+"But why need this be a mistake?" cried Captain Martin, peevishly. "The
+man is an acquaintance of mine,--a friend, if you like to call him so."
+
+"And who is he?" asked my Lady, with all the solemnity of a judge.
+
+"A person I met at the Cape. We travelled home together--saw a great
+deal of each other--in fact--I know him as intimately as I do--any
+officer in my regiment," said the Captain, blundering and faltering at
+every second word.
+
+"Oh! then he is one of your own corps?" said her Ladyship.
+
+"I never said so," broke he in. "If he had been, I don't fancy I should
+need to employ much solicitation in his behalf; the--they are not
+usually treated in that fashion!"
+
+"I trust we should know how to recognize their merits," said Kate,
+with a look which sorely puzzled him whether it meant conciliation or
+raillery.
+
+"And his name?" asked my Lady. "His name ought to be decisive, without
+anything more!"
+
+"He's quite a stranger here, knows nobody, so that you incur no risk as
+to any impertinent inquiries, and when he leaves this, to-morrow or next
+day, you 'll never see him again." This the Captain said with all the
+confusion of an inexpert man in a weak cause.
+
+"Shall I address his card, or will you take it yourself, Captain
+Martin?" said Kate, in a low voice.
+
+"Write Merl,--Mr. Herman Merl," said he, dropping his own voice to the
+same tone.
+
+"Merl!" exclaimed Lady Dorothea, whose quick hearing detected the words.
+"Why, where on earth could you have made acquaintance with a man called
+Merl?"
+
+"I have told you already where and how we met; and if it be
+any satisfaction to you to know that I am under considerable
+obligations--heavy obligations--to this same gentleman, perhaps it might
+incline you to show him some mark of attention."
+
+"You could have him to dinner at your Club,--you might even bring him
+here, when we're alone, Harry; but really, to receive him at one of
+our Evenings! You know how curious people are, what questions they will
+ask:--'Who is that queer-looking man?'--I 'm certain he is so.--'Is he
+English?'--'Who does he belong to?'--'Does he know any one?'"
+
+"Let them ask me, then," said Martin, "and I may, perhaps, be able to
+satisfy them." At the same moment he took up from the table the card
+which Kate had just written, giving her a look of grateful recognition
+as he did so.
+
+"You 've done this at your own peril, Miss Henderson," said Lady
+Dorothea, half upbraidingly.
+
+"At _mine_, be it rather," said the Captain, sternly.
+
+"I accept my share of it willingly," said Kate, with a glance which
+brought a deep flush over the hussar's cheek, and sent through him a
+strange thrill of pleasure.
+
+"Then I am to suppose we shall be honored with your own presence on this
+occasion,--rare favor that it is," said her Ladyship.
+
+"Yes, I 'll look in. I promised Merl to present him."
+
+"Oh, you need n't!" said she, peevishly. "Half the men merely make their
+bow when they meet me, and neither expect me to remember who they are
+or to notice them. I may leave your distinguished friend in the same
+category."
+
+A quick glance from Kate--fleeting, but full of meaning--stopped Martin
+as he was about to make a hasty reply. And, crumpling up the card with
+suppressed passion, he turned and left the room.
+
+"Don't put that odious name on our list, Miss Henderson," said Lady
+Dorothea; "we shall never have him again."
+
+"I 'm rather curious to see him," said Kate. "All this discussion has
+imparted a kind of interest to him, not to say that there would seem
+something like a mystery in Captain Martin's connection with him."
+
+"I confess to no such curiosity," said my Lady, haughtily. "The taste
+to be amused by vulgarity is like the passion some people have to see an
+hospital; you may be interested by the sight, but you may catch a malady
+for your pains." And with this observation of mingled truth and fallacy
+her Ladyship sailed proudly out of the room in all the conscious
+importance of her own cleverness.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER V. A LETTER FROM HOME
+
+While this discussion was going on, Martin was seated in his own room,
+examining the contents of his letter-bag, which the post had just
+delivered to him. A very casual glance at his features would have
+discovered that the tidings which met his eye were very rarely of a
+pleasant character. For the most part the letters were importunate
+appeals for money, subscriptions, loans, small sums to be repaid when
+the borrower had risen above his present difficulties, aids to effect
+some little enterprise on whose very face was failure. Then there were
+the more formal demands for sums actually due, written in the perfection
+of coercive courtesy, subjecting the reader to all the tortures of a
+moral surgical operation, a suffering actually increased by the very
+dexterity of the manipulator. Then came, in rugged hand and gnarled
+shape, urgent entreaties for abatements and allowances, pathetic
+pictures of failing crops, sickness and sorrow! Somewhat in contrast to
+these in matter--most strikingly unlike them in manner--was a short note
+from Mr. Maurice Scanlan. Like a rebutting witness in a cause, he spoke
+of everything as going on favorably; prices were fair, the oat crop a
+reasonable one. There was distress, to be sure, but who ever saw the
+West without it? The potatoes had partially failed; but as there was a
+great deal of typhus and a threat of cholera, there would be fewer to
+eat them. The late storms had done a good deal of mischief, but as the
+timber thrown down might be sold without any regard to the entail, some
+thousand pounds would thus be realized; and as the gale had carried away
+the new pier at Kilkieran, there would be no need to give a bounty to
+the fishermen who could not venture out to sea. The damage done to the
+house and the conservatories at Cro' Martin offered an opportunity to
+congratulate the owner on the happiness of living in a milder climate;
+while the local squabbles of the borough suggested a pleasant contrast
+with all the enjoyments of a life abroad.
+
+On the whole, Mr. Scanlan's letter was rather agreeable than the
+reverse, since he contrived to accompany all the inevitable ills of
+fortune by some side-wind consolations, and when pushed hard for these,
+skilfully insinuated in what way "things might have been worse." If the
+letter did not reflect very favorably on either the heart or brain that
+conceived it, it well suited him to whom it was addressed. To screen
+himself from whatever might irritate him, to escape an unpleasant
+thought or unhappy reflection, to avoid, above all things, the slightest
+approach of self-censure, was Martin's great philosophy; and he esteemed
+the man who gave him any aid in this road. Now newspapers might croak
+their dark predictions about the coming winter, prophesy famine, fever,
+and pestilence; Scanlan's letter, "written from the spot," by "one who
+enjoyed every opportunity for forming a correct opinion," was there,
+and _he_ said matters were pretty much as usual. The West of Ireland had
+never been a land of milk and honey, and nobody expected it ever would
+be,--the people could live in it, however, and pay rents too; and as
+Martin felt that he had no undue severity to reproach himself with,
+he folded up the epistle, saying that "when a man left his house and
+property for a while, it was a real blessing to have such a fellow as
+Scanlan to manage for him;" and truly, if one could have his conscience
+kept for a few hundreds a year, the compact might be a pleasant one. But
+even to the most self-indulgent this plan is impracticable; and so might
+it now be seen in Martin's heightened color and fidgety manner, and
+that even _he_ was not as much at ease within as he wished to persuade
+himself he was.
+
+Amid the mass of correspondence, pamphlets and newspapers, one note,
+very small and neatly folded, had escaped Martin's notice till the very
+last; and it was only as he heaped up a whole bundle to throw into the
+fire that he discovered this, in Mary's well-known hand. He held it
+for some time ere he broke the seal, and his features assumed a sadder,
+graver cast than before. His desertion of her--and he had not blinked
+the word to himself--had never ceased to grieve him; and however
+disposed he often felt to throw upon others the blame which attached to
+himself here, he attempted no casuistry, but stood quietly, without one
+plea in his favor, before his own heart.
+
+The very consciousness of his culpability had prevented him writing to
+her as he ought; his letters were few, short, and constrained. Not all
+the generous frankness of hers could restore to him the candid ease of
+his former intercourse with her; and every chance expression he used was
+conned over and canvassed by him, lest it might convey some sentiment,
+or indicate some feeling foreign to his intention. At length so painful
+had the task become that he had ceased writing altogether, contenting
+himself with a message through Kate Henderson,--some excuse about his
+health, fatigue,-and so forth, ever coupled with a promise that he
+would soon be himself again, and as active a correspondent as she could
+desire.
+
+To these apologies Mary always replied in a kindly spirit. Whatever
+sorrow they might have cost her she kept for herself; they never
+awakened one expression of impatience, not a word of reproach. She
+understood him thoroughly,--his easy indolence of disposition, his
+dislike to a task, his avoidance of whatever was possible to defer;
+more even than all these, his own unforgiveness of himself for his part
+towards her. To alleviate, so far as she might, the poignancy of the
+last, was for a while the great object of all her letters; and so
+she continued to expatiate on the happy life she was leading, her
+contentment with the choice she had made of remaining there, throwing
+in little playful sallies of condolence at her uncle's banishment, and
+jestingly assuring him how much happier he would be at home!
+
+In whatever mood, however, she wrote, there was a striking absence of
+whatever could fret or grieve her uncle throughout all her letters. She
+selected every pleasant topic and the favorable side of every theme to
+tell of. She never forgot any little locality which he had been partial
+to, or any of the people who were his favorites; and, in fact, it might
+have seemed that the great object she had in view was to attach him more
+and more to the home he had left, and strengthen every tie that bound
+him to his own country. And all this was done lightly and playfully, and
+with a pleasant promise of the happiness he should feel on the day of
+his return.
+
+These letters were about the pleasantest incidents in Martin's present
+life; and the day which brought him one was sure to pass agreeably,
+while he made vigorous resolutions about writing a reply, and sometimes
+got even so far as to open a desk and ruminate over an answer. It so
+chanced that now a much longer interval had occurred since Mary's last
+letter, and the appearance of the present note, so unlike the voluminous
+epistle she usually despatched, struck him with a certain dismay. "Poor
+Molly," said he, as he broke the seal, "she is growing weary at last;
+this continued neglect is beginning to tell upon her. A little more,
+and she 'll believe--as well she may--that we have forgotten her
+altogether."
+
+The note was even briefer than he had suspected. It was written, too,
+in what might seem haste, or agitation, and the signature forgotten.
+Martin's hand trembled, and his chest heaved heavily as he read the
+following lines:--
+
+"Cro' Martin, Wednesday Night
+
+"Dearest Uncle,--You will not suffer these few lines to remain
+unanswered, since they are written in all the pressure of a great
+emergency. Our worst fears for the harvest are more than realized; a
+total failure in the potatoes--a great diminution in the oat crop; the
+incessant rains have flooded all the low meadows, and the cattle are
+almost without forage, while from the same cause no turf can be cut, and
+even that already cut and stacked cannot be drawn away from the bogs.
+But, worse than all these, typhus is amongst us, and cholera, they say,
+coming. I might stretch out this dreary catalogue, but here is enough,
+more than enough, to awaken your sympathies and arouse you to action.
+There is a blight on the land; the people are starving--dying. If every
+sense of duty was dead within us, if we could harden our hearts against
+every claim of those from whose labor we derive ease, from whose toil we
+draw wealth and leisure, we might still be recalled to better things
+by the glorious heroism of these poor people, so nobly courageous, so
+patient are they in their trials. It is not now that I can speak of
+the traits I have witnessed of their affection, their charity, their
+self-denial, and their daring--but now is the moment to show them that
+we, who have been dealt with more favorably by fortune, are not devoid
+of the qualities which adorn their nature.
+
+"I feel all the cruelty of narrating these things to you, too far away
+from the scene of sorrow to aid by your counsel and encourage by your
+assistance; but it would be worse than cruelty to conceal from you
+that a terrible crisis is at hand, which will need all your energy to
+mitigate.
+
+"Some measures are in your power, and must be adopted at once. There
+must be a remission of rent almost universally, for the calamity has
+involved all; and such as are a little richer than their neighbors
+should be aided, that they may be the more able to help them. Some
+stores of provisions must be provided to be sold at reduced rates, or
+even given gratuitously. Medical aid must be had, and an hospital
+of some sort established. The able-bodied must be employed on some
+permanent work; and for these, we want power from you and some present
+moneyed assistance. I will not harrow your feelings with tales of
+sufferings. You have seen misery here--enough, I say--you have witnessed
+nothing like this, and we are at but the beginning.
+
+"Write to me at once yourself--this is no occasion to employ a
+deputy--and forgive me, dearest uncle, for I know not what faults of
+presumption I may have here committed. My head is confused; the crash
+of misfortunes has addled me, and each succeed so rapidly on each other,
+that remedies are scarcely employed than they have to be abandoned.
+When, however, I can tell the people that it is their own old friend and
+master that sends them help, and bids them to be of good cheer,--when
+I can show them that, although separated by distance, your heart never
+ceases to live amongst them,--I know well the magic working of such a
+spell upon them, and how, with a bravery that the boldest soldier never
+surpassed, they will rise up against the stern foes of sickness and
+famine, and do battle with hard fortune manfully.
+
+"You have often smiled at what you deemed my exaggerated opinion of
+these poor people,--my over-confidence in their capacity for good.
+Oh--take my word for it--I never gave them credit for one half the
+excellence of their natures. They are on their trial now, and nobly do
+they sustain it!
+
+"I have no heart to answer all your kind questions about myself,--enough
+that I am well; as little can I ask you about all your doings in Paris.
+I 'm afraid I should but lose temper if I heard that they were pleasant
+ones; and yet, with my whole soul, I wish you to be happy; and with
+this,
+
+"Believe me your affectionate
+
+"Mr. Repton has written me the kindest of letters, full of good advice
+and good sense; he has also enclosed me a check for L100, with an offer
+of more if wanted. I was low and depressed when his note reached me,
+but it gave me fresh energy and hope. He proposed to come down here if
+I wished; but how could I ask such a sacrifice,--how entreat him to face
+the peril?"
+
+"Tell Captain Martin I wish to speak to him," said Martin, as he
+finished the perusal of this letter. And in a few minutes after, that
+gallant personage appeared, not a little surprised at the summons.
+
+"I have got a letter from Mary here," said Martin, vainly endeavoring
+to conceal his agitation as he spoke, "which I want to show you. Matters
+are in a sad plight in the West. She never exaggerates a gloomy story,
+and her account is very afflicting. Read it."
+
+The Captain lounged towards the window, and, leaning listlessly against
+the wall, opened the epistle.
+
+"You have not written to her lately, then?" asked he, as he perused the
+opening sentence.
+
+"I am ashamed to say I have not; every day I made a resolution; but
+somehow--"
+
+"Is all this anything strange or new?" broke in the Captain. "I 'm
+certain I have forty letters from my mother with exactly the same story.
+In fact, before I ever broke the seal, I 'd have wagered an equal
+fifty that the potatoes had failed, the bogs were flooded, the roads
+impassable, and the people dying in thousands; and yet, when spring came
+round, by some happy miracle they were all alive and merry again!"
+
+"Read on," said Martin, impatiently, and barely able to control himself
+at this heartless commentary.
+
+"Egad! I 'd have sworn I had read all this before, except these same
+suggestions about not exacting the rents, building hospitals, and so
+forth; that _is_ new. And why does she say, 'Don't write by deputy'? Who
+_was_ your deputy?"
+
+"Kate Henderson has written for me latterly."
+
+"And I should say she 's quite equal to that sort of thing; she dashes
+off my mother's notes at score, and talks away, too, all the time she 's
+writing."
+
+"That is not the question before us," said Martin, sternly.
+
+"When I sent for you to read that letter, it was that you might advise
+and counsel me what course to take."
+
+"If you can afford to give away a year's income in the shape of rent,
+and about as much more in the shape of a donation, of course you 're
+quite free to do it. I only wish that your generosity would begin at
+home, though; for I own to you I 'm very hard-up at this moment." This
+the Captain spoke with an attempted jocularity which decreased with
+every word, till it subsided into downright seriousness ere he finished.
+
+"So far from being in a position to do an act of munificence, I am
+sorely pressed for money," said Martin.
+
+The Captain started; the half-smile with which he had begun to receive
+this speech died away on his lips as he asked, "Is this really the
+case?"
+
+"Most truly so," said Martin, solemnly.
+
+"But how, in the name of everything absurd--how is this possible? By
+what stratagem could you have spent five thousand a year at Cro' Martin,
+and your estate was worth almost three times as much? Giving a very wide
+margin for waste and robbery, I 'd say five thousand could not be made
+away with there in a twelvemonth."
+
+"Your question only shows me how carelessly you must have read my
+letters to you, in India," said Martin; "otherwise you could not have
+failed to see the vast improvements we have been carrying out on the
+property,--the roads, the harbors, the new quarries opened, the extent
+of ground covered by plantation,--all the plans, in fact, which Mary had
+matured--"
+
+"Mary! Mary!" exclaimed the Captain. "And do you tell me that all these
+things were done at the instigation of a young girl of nineteen or
+twenty, without any knowledge, or even advice--"
+
+"And who said she was deficient in knowledge?" cried Martin. "Take up
+the map of the estate; see the lands she has reclaimed; look at the
+swamps you used to shoot snipe over bearing corn crops; see the thriving
+village, where once the boatmen were starving, for they dared not
+venture out to sea without a harbor against bad weather."
+
+"Tell me the cost of all this. What's the figure?" said the Captain;
+"that's the real test of all these matters, for if _your_ income could
+only feed this outlay, I pronounce the whole scheme the maddest thing
+in Christendom. My mother's taste for carved oak cabinets and historical
+pictures is the quintessence of wisdom in comparison."
+
+Martin was overwhelmed and silent, and the other went on,--"Half the
+fellows in 'ours' had the same story to tell,--of estates wasted,
+and fine fortunes squandered in what are called improvements. If the
+possession of a good property entails the necessity to spend it all in
+this fashion, one is very little better than a kind of land-steward to
+one's own estate; and, for my part, I 'd rather call two thousand a year
+my own, to do what I pleased with, than have a nominal twenty, of which
+I must disburse nineteen."
+
+"Am I again to remind you that this is not the question before us?" said
+Martin, with increased sternness.
+
+"That is exactly the very question," rejoined the Captain. "Mary here
+coolly asks you, in the spirit of this same improvement-scheme, to
+relinquish a year's income, and make a present of I know not how much
+more, simply because things are going badly with them, just as if
+everybody has n't their turn of ill-fortune. Egad, I can answer for it,
+_mine_ has n't been flourishing latterly, and yet I have heard of no
+benevolent plan on foot to aid or release me!"
+
+To this heartless speech, uttered, however, in most perfect sincerity,
+Martin made no reply whatever, but sat with folded arms, deep in
+contemplation. At length, raising his head, he asked, "And have you,
+then, no counsel to give,--no suggestion to make me?"
+
+"Well," said he, suddenly, "if Mary has not greatly overcharged all this
+story--"
+
+"That she has not," cried Martin, interrupting him. "There 's not a
+line, not a word of her letter, I 'd not guarantee with all I 'm worth
+in the world."
+
+"In that case," resumed the Captain, in the same indolent tone, "they
+must be in a sorry plight, and _I_ think ought to cut and run as fast as
+they can. I know that's what _we_ do in India; when the cholera comes,
+we break up the encampment, and move off somewhere else. Tell Mary,
+then, to advise them to keep out of 'the jungle,' and make for the hill
+country.'"
+
+Martin stared at the speaker for some seconds, and it was evident how
+difficult he found it to believe that the words he had just listened to
+were uttered in deliberate seriousness.
+
+"If you have read that letter, you certainly have not understood it,"
+said he at last, in a voice full of melancholy meaning.
+
+"Egad, it's only too easy of comprehension," replied the Captain; "of
+all things in life, there's no mistaking a demand for money."
+
+"Just take it with you to your own room, Harry," said Martin, with
+a manner of more affection than he had yet employed. "It is my firm
+persuasion that when you have re-read and thought over it, your
+impression will be a different one. Con it over in solitude, and then
+come back and give me your advice."
+
+The Captain was not sorry to adopt a plan which relieved him so speedily
+from a very embarrassing situation, and, folding up the note, he turned
+and left the room.
+
+There are a great number of excellent people in this world who believe
+that "Thought," like "Ecarte," is a game which requires two people to
+play. The Captain was one of these; nor was it within his comprehension
+to imagine how any one individual could suffice to raise the doubts he
+was called on to canvass or decide. "Who should he now have recourse
+to?" was his first question; and he had scarcely proposed it to himself
+when a soft low voice said, "What is puzzling Captain Martin?--can I be
+of any service to him?" He turned and saw Kate Henderson.
+
+"Only think how fortunate!" exclaimed he. "Just come in here to this
+drawing-room, and give me your advice."
+
+"Willingly," said she, with a courtesy the more marked because his
+manner indicated a seriousness that betokened trouble.
+
+"My father has just dismissed me to cogitate over this epistle; as
+if, after all, when one has read a letter, that any secret or mystical
+interpretation is to come by all the reconsideration and reflection in
+the world."
+
+"Am I to read it?" asked Kate, as he placed it in her hand.
+
+"Of course you are," said he.
+
+"There is nothing confidential or private in it which I ought not to
+see?"
+
+"Nothing; and if there were," added he, warmly, "_you_ are one of
+ourselves, I trust,--at least _I_ think you so."
+
+Kate's lips closed with almost stern % impressiveness, but her color
+never changed at this speech, and she opened the letter in silence. For
+some minutes she continued to read with the same impassive expression;
+but gradually her cheek became paler, and a haughty, almost scornful,
+expression settled on her lips. "So patient are they in their trials,"
+said she, reading aloud the expression of Mary's note. "Is it not
+possible, Captain Martin, that patience may be pushed a little beyond a
+virtue, and become something very like cowardice,--abject cowardice?
+And then," cried she impetuously, and not waiting for his reply, "to
+say that now is the time to show these poor people the saving care and
+protection that the rich owe them, as if the duty dated from the hour of
+their being struck down by famine, laid low by pestilence, or that the
+debt could ever be acquitted by the relief accorded to pauperism! Why
+not have taught these same famished creatures self-dependence, elevated
+them to the rank of civilized beings by the enjoyment of rights that
+give men self-esteem as well as liberty? What do you mean to do,
+sir?--or is that your difficulty?" cried she, hastily changing her tone
+to one of less energy.
+
+"Exactly,--that is _my difficulty_. My father, I suspect, wishes me to
+concur in the pleasant project struck out by Mary, and that, by way of
+helping _them_, we should ruin _ourselves_."
+
+"And _you_ are for--" She stopped, as if to let him finish her question
+for her.
+
+"Egad, I don't know well what I'm for, except it be self-preservation.
+I mean," said he, correcting himself, as a sudden glance of almost
+insolent scorn shot from Kate's eyes towards him,--"I mean that I 'm
+certain more than half of this account is sheer exaggeration. Mary is
+frightened,--as well she may be,--finding herself all alone, and
+hearing nothing but the high-colored stories the people brings her, and
+listening to calamities from morning to night."
+
+"But still it _may_ be all true," said Kate, solemnly. "It may be--as
+Miss Martin writes--that 'there is a blight on the land.'"
+
+"What's to be done, then?" asked he, in deep embarrassment.
+
+"The first step is to ascertain what is fact,--the real extent of the
+misfortune."
+
+"And how is that to be accomplished?" asked he.
+
+"Can you not think of some means?" said she, with a scarcely perceptible
+approach to a smile.
+
+"No, by Jove! that I cannot, except by going over there one's self."
+
+"And why not that?" asked she, more boldly, while she fixed her large
+full eyes directly upon him.
+
+"If _you_ thought that I ought to go,--if you advised it and would
+actually say 'Go'--"
+
+"Well, if I should?"
+
+"Then I'd set off to-night; though, to say truth, neither the journey
+nor the business are much to my fancy."
+
+"Were they ten times less so, sir, I'd say, 'Go,'" said she, resolutely.
+
+"Then go I will," cried the Captain; "and I'll start within two hours."
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VI. MR. MERL'S DEPARTURE
+
+Worthy reader, you are neither weak of purpose nor undecided in action;
+as little are you easily moved by soft influences, when aided by long
+eyelashes. But had you been so, it would have been no difficult effort
+for you to comprehend the state of mind in which Captain Martin repaired
+to his room to make preparation for his journey. There was a kind of
+half chivalry in his present purpose that nerved and supported him. It
+was like a knight-errant of old setting out to confront a peril at the
+behest of his lady-love; but against this animating conviction there
+arose that besetting sin of small minds,--a sense of distrust,--a
+lurking suspicion that he might be, all this while, nothing but the dupe
+of a very artful woman.
+
+"Who can tell," said he to himself, "what plan she may have in all this,
+or what object she may propose to herself in getting _me_ out of the
+way? I don't think she really cares one farthing about the distress of
+these people, supposing it all to be true; and as to the typhus fever
+and cholera, egad! if they be there, one ought to think twice before
+rushing into the midst of them. And then, again, what do I know about
+the country or its habits? I have no means of judging if it be poorer or
+sicklier or; more wretched than usual. To _my_ eyes, it always seemed
+at the lowest depth of want and misery; every one went half starved and
+more than half naked. I 'm sure there is no necessity for my going some
+few hundred and odd miles to refresh my memory on this pleasant fact;
+and yet this is precisely what I 'm about to do. Is it by way of trying
+her power over me? By Jove, I 've hit it!" cried he, suddenly, as he
+stopped arranging a mass of letters which he was reducing to order
+before his departure. "That's her game; there's no doubt of it! She
+has said to herself, 'This will prove him. If he do this at my bidding,
+he'll do more.' Ay, but will he, mademoiselle? that's the question. A
+young hussar may turn out to be a very old soldier. What if I were just
+to tell her so. Girls of her stamp like a man all the better when he
+shows himself to be wide-awake. I 'd lay a fifty on it she 'll care more
+for me when she sees I 'm her own equal in shrewdness. And, after all,
+why should _I_ go? I could send my valet, Fletcher,--just the kind of
+fellow for such a mission,--never knew the secret he could n't worm out;
+there never was a bit of barrack scandal he did n't get to the bottom
+of. He 'd be back here within a fortnight, with the whole state of the
+case, and I'll be bound there will be no humbugging _him_."
+
+This bright idea was not, however, without its share of detracting
+reflections, for what became of all that personal heroism on which he
+reposed such hope, if the danger were to be encountered by deputy? This
+was a puzzle, not the less that he had not yet made up his mind whether
+he 'd really be in love with Kate Henderson, or only involve _her_ in an
+unfortunate attachment for _him_. While he thus pondered and hesitated,
+strewing his room with the contents of drawers and cabinets, by way of
+aiding the labor of preparation, his door was suddenly opened, and Mr.
+Merl made his appearance. Although dressed with all his habitual regard
+to effect, and more than an ordinary display of chains and trinkets,
+that gentleman's aspect betokened trouble and anxiety; at least, there
+was a certain restlessness in his eye that Martin well understood as an
+evidence of something wrong within.
+
+"Are you getting ready for a journey, Captain?" asked he, as he entered.
+
+"I was thinking of it; but I believe I shall not go. I 'm undecided."
+
+"Up the Rhine?"
+
+"No; not in that direction."
+
+"South,--towards Italy, perhaps?"
+
+"Nor there, either. I was meditating a trip to England."
+
+"We should be on the road together," said Merl. "I'm off by four
+o'clock."
+
+"How so? What's the reason of this sudden start?"
+
+"There's going to be a crash here," said Merl, speaking in a lower tone.
+"The Government have been doing the thing with too high a hand, and
+there's mischief brewing."
+
+"Are you sure of this?" asked Martin.
+
+"Only too sure, that's all. I bought in, on Tuesday last, at sixty-four
+and an eighth, and the same stock is now fifty-one and a quarter, and
+will be forty to-morrow. The day after--" Here Mr. Merl made a motion
+with his outstretched arm, to indicate utter extinction.
+
+"You're a heavy loser, then?" asked Martin, eagerly.
+
+"I shall be, to the tune of some thirteen thousand pounds. It was just
+on that account I came in here. I shall need money within the week, and
+must turn those Irish securities of yours into cash,--some of them at
+least,--and I want a hint from you as to which I ought to dispose of
+and which hold over. You told me one day, I remember, that there was a
+portion of the property likely to rise greatly in value--"
+
+"_You_ told me, sir," said Captain Martin, breaking suddenly in, "when
+I gave you these same bonds, that they should remain in your own hands,
+and never leave them. That was the condition on which I gave them."
+
+"I suppose, Captain, you gave them for something; you did not make a
+present of them," said the Jew, coloring slightly.
+
+"If I did not make a present of them," rejoined Martin, "the transaction
+was about as profitable to me."
+
+"You owed me the money, sir; that, at least, is the way I regard the
+matter."
+
+"And when I paid it by these securities, you pledged yourself not to
+negotiate them. I explained to you how the entail was settled,--that the
+property must eventually be mine,--and you accepted the arrangement on
+these conditions."
+
+"All true, Captain; but nobody told me, at that time, there was going
+to be a revolution in Paris,--which there will be within forty-eight
+hours."
+
+"Confounded fool that I was to trust the fellow!" said Martin to
+himself, but quite loud enough to be heard; then turning to Merl, he
+said, "What do you mean by converting them into cash? Are you about to
+sell part of our estate?"
+
+"Nothing of the kind, Captain," said Merl, smiling at the innocence of
+the question. "I am simply going to deposit these where I can obtain
+an advance upon them. I promise you, besides, it shall not be in any
+quarter by which the transaction can reach the ears of your family.
+This assurance will, I trust, satisfy _you_, and entitle _me_ to the
+information I ask for."
+
+"What information do you allude to?" asked Martin, who had totally
+forgotten what the Jew announced as the reason of his visit.
+
+"I asked you, Captain," said Merl, resuming the mincing softness of
+his usual manner, "as to which of these securities might be the more
+eligible for immediate negotiation?"
+
+"And how should I know, sir?" replied the other, rudely. "I am very
+little acquainted with the property itself; I know still less about the
+kind of dealings you speak of. It does not concern me in the least
+what you do, or how you do it. I believe I may have given you bonds for
+something very like double the amount of all you ever advanced to me.
+I hear of nothing from my father but the immense resources of this, and
+the great capabilities of that; but as these same eventualities are
+not destined to better _my_ condition, I have not troubled my head to
+remember anything about them. You have a claim of about twenty thousand
+against me."
+
+"Thirty-two thousand four hundred and seventy-eight pounds," said the
+Jew, reading from a small note-book which he had just taken from his
+waistcoat pocket.
+
+"That is some ten thousand more than ever I heard of," said Martin, with
+an hysterical sort of laugh. "Egad, Merl, the fellows were right that
+would not have you in the 'Cercle.' You 'd have 'cleared every man of
+them out,'--as well let a ferret into a rabbit warren."
+
+"I was n't aware,--I had not heard that I was put up--"
+
+"To be sure you were; in all form proposed, seconded, and duly
+blackballed. I own to you, I thought it very hard, very illiberal. There
+are plenty of fellows there that have no right to be particular; and so
+Jack Massingbred as much as told them. The fact is, Merl, you ought to
+have waited awhile, and by the time that Harlowe and Spencer Cavendish
+and a few more such were as deep in your books as I am, you 'd have had
+a walk over. Willoughby says the same. It might have cost you something
+smart, but you 'd have made it pay in the end,--eh, Merl?"
+
+To this speech, uttered in a strain of jocular impertinence, Merl made
+no reply. He had just torn one of his gloves in pieces in the effort
+to draw it on, and he was busily exerting himself to get rid of the
+fragments.
+
+"Lady Dorothea had given me a card for you for Saturday," resumed the
+Captain; "but as you 're going away--Besides, after this defeat at
+the Club, you could n't well come amongst all these people; so there's
+nothing for it but patience, Merl, patience--"
+
+"A lesson that may be found profitable to others, perhaps," said the
+Jew, with one of his furtive looks at the Captain, who quailed under it
+at once.
+
+"I was going to give you a piece of advice, Merl," said he, in a tone
+the very opposite to his late bantering one. "It was, that you should
+just take a run over to Ireland yourself, and see the property."
+
+"I mean to do so, Captain Martin," said the other, calmly.
+
+"I can't offer you letters, for they would defeat what you desire to
+accomplish; besides, there is no member of the family there at present
+but a young lady-cousin of mine."
+
+"Just the kind of introduction I 'd like," said the Jew, with all the
+zest of a man glad to say what he knew would be deemed an impertinence.
+
+Martin grew crimson with suppressed anger, but never spoke a word.
+
+"Is this the Cousin Mary I have heard you speak of," said Merl,--"the
+great horsewoman, and she that ventures out alone on the Atlantic in a
+mere skiff?"
+
+Martin nodded. His temper was almost an overmatch for him, and he dared
+not trust himself to speak.
+
+"I should like to see her amazingly, Captain," resumed Merl.
+
+"Remember, sir, you have no lien upon _her_," said Martin, sternly.
+
+The Jew smirked and ran his fingers through his hair with the air of one
+who deemed such an eventuality by no means so very remote.
+
+"Do you know, Master Merl," said Martin, staring at him from head
+to foot with an expression the reverse of complimentary, "I 'm half
+disposed to give you a few lines to my cousin; and if you 'll not take
+the thing as a _mauvais plaisanterie_ on my part, I will do so.". "Quite
+the contrary, Captain. I 'll deem it a great favor, indeed," said Merl,
+with an admirable affectation of unconsciousness.
+
+"Here goes, then," said Martin, sitting down to a table, and preparing
+his writing materials, while in a hurried hand he began:--
+
+"'Dear Cousin Mary,--This will introduce to you Mr. Herman Merl, who
+visits your remote regions on a tour of----What shall I say?"
+
+"Pleasure,--amusement," interposed Merl.
+
+"No, when I _am_ telling a fib, I like a big one,--I 'll say,
+philanthropy, Merl; and there's nothing so well adapted to cover those
+secret investigations you are bent upon,--a tour of philanthropy.
+
+"'You will, I am sure, lend him all possible assistance in his
+benevolent object,--the same being to dispose of the family acres,--and
+at the same time direct his attention to whatever may be matter of
+interest,--whether mines, quarries, or other property easily convertible
+into cash,--treating him in all respects as one to whom I owe many
+obligations--and several thousand pounds.'
+
+"Will that do, think you?"
+
+"Perfectly; nothing better."
+
+"In return, I shall ask one favor at your hands," said Martin, as
+he folded and addressed the epistle. "It is that you write me a full
+account of what you see in the West,--how the country looks, and the
+people. Of course it will all seem terribly poor and destitute, and all
+that sort of thing, to your eyes; but just try and find out if it be
+worse than usual. Paddy is such a shrewd fellow, Merl, that it will
+require all your own sharpness not to be taken in by him. A long letter
+full of detail--a dash of figures in it--as to how many sheep have the
+rot, or how many people have caught the fever, will improve it,--you
+know the kind of thing I mean; and--I don't suppose you care about
+shooting, yourself, but you 'll get some one to tell you--are the birds
+plenty and in good condition. There's a certain Mr. Scanlan, if you
+chance upon him; he 's up to everything, and not a bad performer at
+dummy whist,--though I think _you_ could teach him a thing or two." Merl
+smiled and tried to look flattered, while the other went on: "And there
+'s another, called Henderson,--the steward,--a very shrewd person,--but
+_you_ don't need all these particulars; you may be trusted to your own
+good guidance,--eh, Merl?"
+
+Merl again smiled in the same fashion as before; in fact, so completely
+had he resumed the bland expression habitual to him, that the
+Captain almost forgot the unpleasant cause of his visit, and all the
+disagreeable incidents of the interview.
+
+"You could n't give me a few lines to this Mr. Scanlan?" asked Merl,
+with an air of easy indifference.
+
+"Nothing easier," cried the Captain, reseating himself; then suddenly
+rising, with the expression of one to whom a sudden thought had just
+crossed the mind, "Wait one second for me here, Merl; I'll be back with
+you at once." And as he spoke he dashed out of the room, and hastened to
+his father.
+
+"By a rare piece of luck," cried he, as he entered, "I 've just chanced
+upon the very fellow we want; an acquaintance I picked up at the
+Cape,--up to everything; he goes over to Ireland to-night, and he 'll
+take a run down to Cro' Martin, and send us his report of all he sees.
+Whatever he tells us may be relied upon; for, depend upon 't, no lady
+can humbug _him_. I 've just given him a note for Mary, and I 'll write
+a few lines also by way of introducing him to Scanlan."
+
+Martin could barely follow the Captain, as with rapid utterance he
+poured forth this plan. "Do I know him? What's his name?" asked he at
+last.
+
+"You never saw him. His name is Merl,--Herman Merl,--a fellow of
+considerable wealth; a great speculator,--one of those Stock Exchange
+worthies who never deal in less than tens of thousands. He has a
+crotchet in his head about buying up half the West of Ireland,--some
+scheme about flax and the deep-sea fishery. I don't understand it, but
+I suppose _he_ does. At all events, he has plenty of money, and the head
+to make it fructify; and if he only take a liking to it, he 's the very
+fellow to buy up Kilkieran, and the islands, and the rest of that waste
+district you were telling me of t'other night. But I must n't detain
+him. He starts at four o'clock; and I only ran over here to tell you not
+to worry yourself any more about Mary's letter. He 'll look to it all."
+
+And with this consolatory assurance the Captain hastened away, leaving
+Martin as much relieved in mind as an indolent nature and an easy
+conscience were sure to make him. To get anybody "to look to" anything
+had been his whole object in life; to know that, whatever happened,
+there was always somebody who misstated this, or neglected that, at
+whose door all the culpability--where there was such--could be laid
+and but for whom he had himself performed miracles of energy and
+devotedness, and endured all the tortures and trials of a martyr. He
+was, indeed, as are a great many others in this world, an excellent man
+to his own heart,--kind, charitable, and affectionate; a well-wisher
+to his kind, and hopeful of almost every one; but, all this while, his
+virtues, like a miser's gold, had no circulation; they remained locked
+up within him for his own use alone, and there he sat, counting them
+over and gazing at them, speculating upon all that this affluence could
+do, and--never doing it!
+
+Life abounds with such men. They win respect while they live, and white
+marble records their virtues when they die! Nor are they all useless.
+Their outward bearing at least simulates whatever we revere in good men,
+and we accept them in the same spirit of compromise as we take stucco
+for stone; if they do no more, they show our appreciation of the "real
+article."
+
+The Captain was not long in inditing a short note to Scanlan, to whom,
+"strictly confidential," Mr. Merl was introduced as a great capitalist
+and speculator, desirous to ascertain all the resources of the land.
+Scanlan was enjoined to show him every attention, making his visit in
+all respects as agreeable as possible.
+
+"This fellow will treat you well, Merl," said the Captain, as he folded
+the letter; "will give you the best salmon you ever tasted, and a glass
+of Gordon's Madeira such as few could sport now-a-days. And if you
+have a fancy for a day with my Cousin Mary's hounds, he 'll mount you
+admirably, and show you the way besides." And with this speech Martin
+wished him good-bye; and closing the door after him, added, "And if
+he'll kindly assist you to a broken neck, it's about the greatest
+service he could render me!"
+
+The laugh, silly and meaningless, that followed his utterance of this
+speech, showed that it was spoken in all the listlessness of one who had
+not really character enough to be even a "good hater."
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VII. THE CLUB
+
+So little impression had Merl's gloomy forebodings made upon Captain
+Martin, that he actually forgot everything that this shrewd gentleman
+predicted, and only partially recalled them when the conversation the
+next morning at the Club turned on the disturbed state of the capital.
+People in "society" find it excessively difficult to believe in anything
+like an organized opposition to the authorities of a government. They
+are so accustomed to hear of street assemblages being scattered by a few
+soldiers, mobs routed by a handful of mounted policemen, that they are
+slow to imagine how any formidable movement can take its rise in such a
+source. But the maladies of states, like those of the human frame,
+are often mere trifles in their origin; chance, and the concurrence of
+events swell their importance, till they assume an aspect of perhaps
+greater menace than they deserve. This is essentially the case in
+revolutionary struggles, where, at the outset, none ever contemplates
+the extent to which the mischief may reach. The proclamation of the
+"Ordinances," as they were called, had produced a great excitement
+in Paris. Groups of men in every street were gathered around some one
+reading aloud the violent commentaries of the public papers; thoughtful
+and stern faces were met at every corner; a look of expectancy--an
+expression that seemed to say, What next?--was perceptible on all sides.
+Many of the shops were half closed, and in some the objects of great
+value were withdrawn to places of greater security. It was clear to see
+that men apprehended some great crisis; but whence it should come, or by
+whose instrumentality promoted, none seemed able to guess. Now and then
+a mounted orderly would ride by at a smart trot, or a patrol party
+of dragoons dash past; and the significant glance that followed them
+indicated how full of meaning these signs appeared.
+
+The day passed in this state of anxious uncertainty; and although the
+journals discussed the condition of the capital as full of danger and
+menace, an ostentatious announcement in the "Moniteur" proclaimed Paris
+to be tranquil. In society--at least in the world of fashion and high
+life--there were very few who would have disputed the official despatch.
+"Who and what were they who could dispute the King's Government? Who and
+where were there either leaders or followers? In what way should they
+attempt it? The troops in and around Paris numbered something over forty
+thousand, commanded by an old Marshal of the Empire, now the trustiest
+adherent of royalty. The days of Mirabeaus and Robespierres and Dantons
+had passed away; nor were these times in which men would like to recall
+the reigns of terror and the guillotine." So they reasoned--or, if the
+phrase be too strong, so they talked--who lounged on soft-cushioned
+ottomans, or moved listlessly over luxurious carpets; all agreeing that
+it would be treasonable in the Ministers to retreat or abate one jot of
+the high prerogative of the Crown. Powdered heads shook significantly,
+and gold-embroidered vests heaved indignantly at the bare thought that
+the old spirit of '95 should have survived amongst them; but not one
+dreamed that the event boded seriously, or that the destinies of a great
+nation were then in the balance.
+
+It is but five-and-twenty years ago; and how much more have we learned
+of the manufacture of revolutions in the interval! Barricades and street
+warfare have become a science, and the amount of resistance a half-armed
+populace can offer to a regular force is as much a matter of certainty
+as a mathematical theorem. At that period, however, men were but in
+the infancy of this knowledge; the traditions of the Great Revolution
+scarcely were remembered, and, for the most part, they were
+inapplicable.
+
+What wonder, then, if people in society smiled scornfully at the
+purposeless masses that occasionally moved past beneath their windows,
+shouting with discordant voices some fragments of the "Marseillaise,"
+or, as they approached the residence of any in authority, venturing
+on the more daring cry of "Down with the Ordinances!" The same tone of
+haughty contempt pervaded the "Club." Young men of fashion, little given
+to the cares of political life, and really indifferent to the action of
+laws which never invaded the privileges of the play-table, or curtailed
+one prerogative of the "Coulisses," felt an angry impatience at all the
+turbulence and riot of the public streets.
+
+In a magnificently furnished salon of the Club a number of these young
+men were now assembled. Gathered from every nation of Europe,--many of
+them bearing names of high historical interest,--they were, so far as
+dress, air, and appearance went, no ignoble representatives of the
+class they belonged to. The proud and haughty Spaniard, the fierce-eyed,
+daring-looking Pole, the pale, intellectual-faced Italian, the courteous
+Russian, and the fair-haired, stalwart Saxon were all there; and,
+however dissimilar in type, banded together by the magic influence of
+the "set" they moved in, to an almost perfect uniformity of sentiment
+and opinion.
+
+"I vote that any man be fined ten Louis that alludes, however remotely,
+to this confounded question again," cried Count Gardoni, rising
+impatiently from his chair and approaching a card-table.
+
+"And I second you!" exclaimed a Polish prince, with a Russian decoration
+at his button-hole.
+
+"Carried _nem. con._" said Captain Martin, seating himself at the
+play-table. "And now for the 'Lansquenet.'" And in a moment every seat
+was occupied, and purses of gold and pocket-books of bank-notes were
+strewed over the board. They were all men who played high; and the game
+soon assumed the grave character that so invariably accompanies large
+wagers. Wonderfully little passed, except the terms of the game itself.
+Gambling is a jealous passion, and never admits its votaries to wander
+in their attention. And now large sums passed from hand to hand, and all
+the passions of hope and fear racked heads and hearts around, while a
+decorous silence prevailed; or, when broken, some softly toned voice
+alone interrupted the stillness.
+
+"Are you going, Martin?" whispered the young French Count de Nevers, as
+the other moved noiselessly back from the table.
+
+"It is high time, I think," said Martin; "this is my seventeenth night
+of losing,--losing heavily, too. I'm sick of it!"
+
+"Here 's a chance for you, Martin," said a Russian prince, who had just
+assumed "the bank." "You shall have your choice of color, and your own
+stake."
+
+"Thanks; but I'll not be tempted."
+
+"I say red, and a thousand francs," cried a Neapolitan.
+
+"There 's heavier play outside, I suspect," said Martin, as a wild,
+hoarse shout from the streets re-echoed through the room.
+
+"A fine,--a fine,--Martin is fined!" cried several around the table.
+
+"You have n't left me wherewithal to pay it, gentlemen," said he,
+laughing. "I was just about to retire, a bankrupt, into private life."
+
+"That's platoon fire," exclaimed the Pole, as the loud detonation of
+small arms seemed to shake the very room.
+
+"Czernavitz also fined," cried two together.
+
+"I bow in submission to the Court," said the Pole, throwing down the
+money on the table.
+
+"Lend _me_ as much more," said Martin; "it may change my luck." And with
+this gambler's philosophy, he again drew nigh the table.
+
+This slight interruption over, the game proceeded as before. Martin,
+however, was now a winner, every wager succeeding, and every bet he made
+a gain.
+
+"There's nothing like a dogged persistence," said the Russian. "Fortune
+never turns her back on him who shows constancy. See Martin, now; by
+that very resolution he has conquered, and here we are, all cleared
+out!"
+
+"I am, for one," cried an Italian, flinging his empty purse on the
+table.
+
+"There's my last Louis," said Nevers. "I reserve it to pay for my
+supper."
+
+"Martin shall treat us all to supper!" exclaimed another.
+
+"Where shall it be, then?" said Martin; "here, or at my own quarters?"
+
+"Here, by all means," cried some.
+
+"I 'm for the Place Vendome," said the Pole, "for who knows but we shall
+catch a glimpse of that beautiful girl, Martin's 'Belle Irlandaise.'"
+
+"I saw her to-night," said the Italian, "and I own she _is_ all you say.
+She was speaking to Villemart, and I assure you the old Minister won't
+forget it in a hurry. Something or other he said about the noise in the
+street drew from him the word _canaille_. She turned round at once and
+attacked him. He replied, and the controversy grew warm; so much so,
+that many gathered around them to listen, amongst whom I saw the Duc
+de Guiche, Prince du Saulx, and the Austrian Minister. Nothing could be
+more perfect than her manner,--calm, without any effrontery; assured,
+and yet no sacrifice of delicacy. It was easy to see, too, that the
+theme was not one into which she stumbled by an accident; she knew every
+event of the Great Revolution, and used the knowledge with consummate
+skill, and, but for one slip, with consummate temper also.
+
+"What was the slip you allude to?" cried the Russian.
+
+"It was when Villemart, after a boastful enumeration of the superior
+merits of his order, called them the 'Enlighteners of the People.'
+
+"'You played that part on one occasion,' said she; 'but I scarcely
+thought you 'd like to refer to it.'
+
+"'How so? When do you mean?' asked he.
+
+"'When they hung you to the lanterns,' said she, with the energy of
+a tigress in her look. Pardie! at that moment I never saw anything so
+beautiful or so terrible."
+
+A loud uproar in the street without, in which the sound of troop-horses
+passaging to and fro could be distinguished, now interrupted the
+colloquy. As the noise increased, a low, deep roar, like the sound of
+distant thunder, could be heard, and the Pole cried out,--"Messieurs les
+Sans-culottes, I strongly advise you to turn homewards, for, if I be not
+much mistaken, here comes the artillery."
+
+"The affair may turn out a serious one, after all," broke in the
+Italian.
+
+"A serious one!" echoed the Pole, scornfully. "How can it? Forty
+battalions of infantry, ten thousand sabres, and eight batteries; are
+they not enough, think you, to rout this contemptible herd of street
+rioters?"
+
+"There--listen! It has begun already!" exclaimed Martin, as the sharp
+report of fire-arms, quite close to the windows, was followed by a
+crash, and then a wild, mad shout, half rage, half defiance.
+
+"There's nothing for it, in these things, but speedy action," said
+the Pole; "grape and cavalry charges to clear the streets, and rifle
+practice at anything that shows itself at the windows."
+
+"It is so easy, so very easy, to crush a mob," said the Russian, "if you
+only direct your attention to the leader,--think of nothing but _him_.
+Once you show that, whatever may be the fate of others, death must be
+his, the whole assemblage becomes a disorganized, unwieldy mass, to be
+sabred or shot down at pleasure."
+
+"Soldiers have no fancy for this kind of warfare," said De Nevers,
+haughtily; "victory is never glorious, defeat always humiliation."
+
+"But who talks of defeat?" exclaimed the Pole, passionately. "The
+officer who could fail against such an enemy should be shot by a
+court-martial. We have, I believe, every man of us here, served; and
+I asked you, what disproportion of force could suggest a doubt of
+success?"
+
+As he spoke, the door of the room was suddenly opened, and a young
+man, with dress all disordered, and the fragment of a hat in his hand,
+entered.
+
+"What, Massingbred!" cried one, "how came you to be so roughly handled?"
+
+"So much for popular politeness!" exclaimed the Russian, as he took up
+the tattered remains of a dress-coat, and exhibited it to the others.
+
+"Pardon me, Prince," replied Massingbred, as he filled a glass of
+water and drank it off, "this courtesy I received at the hands of the
+military. I was turning my cab from the Boulevard to enter this street,
+when a hoarse challenge of a sentry, saying I know not what, attracted
+my attention. I drew up short to learn, and then suddenly came a rush
+of the people from behind, which terrified my horse, and set him off at
+speed; the uproar increasing, the affrighted animal dashed madly onward,
+the crowd flying on every side, when suddenly a bullet whizzed past my
+head, cutting my hat in two; a second, at the same instant, struck my
+horse, and killed him on the spot, cab and all rolling over as he fell.
+How I arose, gained my legs, and was swept away by the dense torrent of
+the populace, are events of which I am very far from clear. I only know
+that although the occurrence happened within half an hour ago, it seems
+to _me_ an affair of days since."
+
+"You were, doubtless, within some line of outposts when first
+challenged," said the Pole, "and the speed at which you drove was
+believed to be an arranged plan of attack, for you say the mob followed
+you."
+
+"Very possibly your explanation is the correct one," said Massingbred,
+coolly; "but I looked for more steadiness and composure from the troops,
+while I certainly did not anticipate so much true courtesy and kindness
+as I met with from the people."
+
+"Parbleu! here's Massingbred becoming Democrat," said one. "The next
+thing we shall hear is his defence of a barricade."
+
+"You'll assuredly not hear that I attacked one in such company as
+inflicted all this upon me," rejoined he, with an easy smile.
+
+"Here's the man to captivate your 'Belle Irlandaise,' Martin," cried
+one. "Already is he a hero and a martyr to Royal cruelty."
+
+"Ah! you came too late to hear that," said the Pole, in a whisper to
+Massingbred; "but it seems La Henderson became quite a Charlotte Corday
+this evening, and talked more violent Republicanism than has been heard
+in a salon since the days of old Egalite."
+
+"All lights must be extinguished, gentlemen," said the waiter, entering
+hastily. "The street is occupied by troops, and you must pass out by the
+Rue de Grenelle."
+
+"Are the mobs not dispersing, then?" asked the Russian.
+
+"No, your Highness. They have beaten back the troops from the Quai
+Voltaire, and are already advancing on the Louvre."
+
+"What absurdity!" exclaimed the Pole. "If the troops permit this, there
+is treason amongst them."
+
+"I can answer for it there is terror, at least," said Massingbred.
+"All the high daring and spirit is with what you would call the
+Sans-culottes."
+
+"That a man should talk this way because he has lost a cab-horse!" cried
+the Pole, insolently.
+
+"There are men who can bear the loss of a country with more
+equanimity,--I know that," whispered Massingbred in his ear, with all
+the calm sternness of an insult.
+
+"You mean this for _me?_" said the Pole, in a low voice.
+
+"Of course I do," was the answer.
+
+"Where?--when?--how?" muttered the Pole, in suppressed passion.
+
+"I leave all at your disposal," said Massingbred, smiling at the other's
+effort to control his rage.
+
+"At Versailles,--to-morrow morning,--pistols."
+
+Massingbred bowed, and turned away. At the same instant the waiter
+entered to say that the house must be cleared at once, or all within it
+consent to remain close prisoners.
+
+"Come along, Martin," said Massingbred, taking his arm. "I shall want
+you to do me a favor. Let us make our escape by the Rue de Grenelle, and
+I 'll engage to pilot you safely to your own quarters."
+
+"Has anything passed between you and Czernavitz?" asked Martin, as they
+gained the street.
+
+"A slight exchange of civilities which requires an exchange of shots,"
+said Jack, calmly.
+
+"By George! I 'm sorry for it. He can hit a franc-piece at thirty
+paces."
+
+"So can I, Martin; and, what's more, Anatole knows it. He's as brave
+as a lion, and it is my confounded skill has pushed him on to this
+provocation."
+
+"He 'll shoot you," muttered Martin, in a half revery.
+
+"Not impossible," said Massingbred. "He's a fellow who cannot conceal
+his emotions, and will show at once what he means to do."
+
+"Well, what of that?"
+
+"Simply, that if he intends mischief I shall know it, and send a bullet
+through his heart."
+
+Little as Martin had seen of Massingbred,--they were but Club
+acquaintances of a few weeks back,--he believed that he was one of those
+smart, versatile men who, with abundance of social ability, acquire
+reputation for higher capacity than they possess; but, above all, he
+never gave him credit for anything like a settled purpose or a stern
+resolution. It was, then, with considerable astonishment that he now
+heard him avow this deadly determination with all the composure that
+could vouch for its sincerity. There was, however, little time to think
+of these things. The course they were driven to follow, by by-streets
+and alleys, necessitated a long and difficult way. The great
+thoroughfares which they crossed at intervals were entirely in the
+possession of the troops, who challenged them as they approached, and
+only suffered them to proceed when well satisfied with their account.
+The crowds had all dispersed, and to the late din and tumult there had
+succeeded the deep silence of a city sunk in sleep, only broken by the
+hoarse call of the sentinels, or the distant tramp of a patrol.
+
+"It is all over, I suppose," said Martin. "The sight of the
+eight-pounders and the dark caissons has done the work."
+
+"I don't think so," said Massingbred, "nor do the troops think so.
+These mobs are not like ours in England, who, with plenty of individual
+courage, are always poltroons in the mass. These fellows understand
+fighting as an art, know how to combine their movements, arrange
+the modes of attack or defence, can measure accurately the means
+of resistance opposed to them, and, above all, understand how to be
+led,--something far more difficult than it seems. In _my_ good borough
+of Oughterard,--or yours, rather, Martin, for I have only a loan of
+it,--a few soldiers--the army, as they would call them--would sweep the
+whole population before them. Our countrymen can get up a row, these
+fellows can accomplish a revolt,--there's the difference."
+
+"And have they any real, substantial grievance that demands such an
+expiation?"
+
+"Who knows?" said he, laughingly. "There never was a Government too bad
+to live under,--there never was one exempt from great vices. Half the
+political disturbances the world has witnessed have arisen from causes
+remote from State Government; a deficient harvest, a dear loaf, the
+liberty of the Press invaded,--a tyranny always resented by those who
+can't read,--are common causes enough. But here we are now at the Place
+Vendome, and certainly one should say the odds are against the people."
+
+Massingbred said truly. Two battalions of infantry, with a battery of
+guns in position, were flanked by four squadrons of Cuirassiers, the
+formidable array filling the entire "Place," and showing by their air
+and attitude their readiness for any eventuality. A chance acquaintance
+with one of the staff enabled Massingbred and Martin to pass through
+their lines and arrive at their hotel.
+
+"Remember," said the officer who accompanied them, "that you are close
+prisoners now. My orders are that nobody is to leave the Place under any
+pretext."
+
+"Why, you can scarcely suspect that the Government has enemies in this
+aristocratic quarter?" said Massingbred, smiling.
+
+"We have them everywhere," was the brief answer, as he bowed and turned
+away.
+
+"I scarcely see how I'm to keep my appointment at Versailles to-morrow
+morning," said Massingbred, as he followed Martin up the spacious
+stairs. "Happily, Czernavitz knows me, and will not misinterpret my
+absence."
+
+"Not to say that he may be unable himself to get there," said Martin.
+As he spoke, they had reached the door, opening which with his key, the
+Captain motioned to Massingbred to enter.
+
+Massingbred stopped suddenly, and in a voice of deep meaning said, "Your
+father lives here?"
+
+"Yes,--what then?" asked Martin.
+
+"Only that I have no right to pass his threshold," said the other, in
+a low voice. "I was his guest once, and I 'm not sure that I repaid the
+hospitality as became me. You were away at the time."
+
+"You allude to that stupid election affair," said Martin. "I can only
+say that I never did, never could understand it. My only feeling was
+one of gratitude to you for saving me from being member for the
+borough. Come along," said he, taking his arm; "this is no time for your
+scruples, at all events."
+
+"No, Martin, I cannot," said the other. "I 'd rather walk up to one of
+those nine-pounders there than present myself to your lady-mother--"
+
+"But you needn't. You are _my_ guest; these are _my_ quarters. You shall
+see nobody but myself till you leave this. Remember what the Captain
+told us; we are prisoners here." And without waiting for a reply, Martin
+pushed him before him into the room.
+
+"Two o'clock," said Massingbred, looking at his watch; "and we are to be
+at Versailles by eight."
+
+"Well, leave all the care of that to me," said Martin; "and do you throw
+yourself on the bed there, and take some rest. Without you prefer to sup
+first?"
+
+"No, an hour's sleep is what I stand most in need of; and so I 'll say
+good-night."
+
+Massingbred said this less that he wanted repose than a brief interval
+to be alone with his own thoughts. And now, as he closed his eyes to
+affect sleep, it was really to commune with his own heart, and reflect
+over what had just occurred.
+
+Independently that he liked Czernavitz personally, he was sorry for a
+quarrel at such a moment. There was a great game about to be played, and
+a mere personal altercation seemed something small and contemptible in
+the face of such events. "What will be said of us," thought he, "but
+that we were a pair of hot-headed fools, thinking more of a miserable
+interchange of weak sarcasms than of the high destinies of a whole
+nation? And it was _my_ fault," added he to himself; "I had no right to
+reproach him with a calamity hard enough to bear, even without its
+being a reproach. What a strange thing is life, after all!" thought
+he; "everything of greatest moment that occurs in it the upshot of an
+accident,--my going to Ireland, my visit to the West, my election, my
+meeting with Kate Henderson, and now this duel." And, so ruminating, he
+dropped off into a sound sleep, undisturbed by sounds that might well
+have broken the heaviest slumber.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VIII. AN EVENING OF ONE OP THE "THREE DAYS"
+
+On the evening which witnessed these events Lady Dorothea's "reception"
+had been more than usually brilliant. Numbers had come to show of
+how little moment they deemed this "street disturbance," as they were
+pleased to call it; others, again, were curious to pick up in society
+the opinions formed on what was passing, among whom were several high
+in the favor of the Court and the confidence of the Government. All, as
+they arrived, had some little anecdote or adventure to relate as to the
+difficulties which beset them on the way,--the distances which they were
+obliged to travel, the obstructions and passwords and explanations which
+met them at every turn. These were all narrated in the easy, jocular
+tone of passing trifles, the very inconvenience of which suggested its
+share of amusement.
+
+As the evening wore on, even these became less frequent; the streets
+were already thinning, and, except in some remote, unimportant parts of
+the capital, the troops were in possession of all the thoroughfares. Of
+course, the great topic of conversation was the bold stroke of policy
+then enacting,--a measure which all pronounced wise and just, and
+eminently called for.
+
+To have heard the sentiments then uttered, the disparaging opinions
+expressed of the middle and humbler classes, the hopelessness of ever
+seeing them sufficiently impressed with their own inferiority, the
+adulation bestowed on the monarch and all around him, one might really
+have fancied himself back again at the Tuileries in the time of Louis
+the Fourteenth. All agreed in deeming the occasion an excellent one to
+give the people a salutary lesson; and it was really pleasant to see
+the warm interest taken by these high and distinguished persons in the
+fortunes of their less happy countrymen.
+
+To Lady Dorothea's ears no theme could be more grateful; and she moved
+from group to group, delighted to mingle her congratulations with those
+around, and exchange her hopes and aspirations and wishes with theirs.
+Kate Henderson, upon whom habitually devolved the chief part in these
+"receptions," was excited and flurried in manner; a more than ordinary
+effort to please being dashed, as it were, by some secret anxiety, and
+the expectation of some coming event. Had there been any one to watch
+her movements, he might have seen the eagerness with which she listened
+to each new account of the state of the capital, and how impatiently
+she drank in the last tidings from the streets; nor less marked was the
+expression of proud scorn upon her features, as she heard the insulting
+estimate of the populace, and the vainglorious confidence in the
+soldiery. But more than all these was her haughty indignation as she
+listened to the confused, mistaken opinions uttered on every side as to
+the policy of the Government and the benevolent intentions of the king.
+Once, and only once, did she forget the prudent resolve she wished to
+impose upon herself; but temper and caution and reserve gave way, as
+she heard a very distinguished person amusing a circle around him by an
+unfair and unfaithful portraiture of the great leaders of '92. It was
+then, when stung by the odious epithet of _canaille_ applied to those
+for whose characters she entertained a deep devotion, that she forgot
+everything, and in a burst of indignant eloquence overwhelmed and
+refuted the speaker. This was the moment, too, in which she replied to
+Villemart by a word of terrible ferocity. Had the red cap of Liberty
+itself been suddenly hoisted in that brilliant assemblage, the dread and
+terror which arose could scarcely have been greater.
+
+"Where are we?" cried the Marquise de Longueville. "I thought we were in
+the Place de Vendome, and I find myself in the Faubourg St. Antoine!"
+
+"Does my Lady know that her friend and confidante is a Girondist of the
+first water?" said an ex-Minister.
+
+"Who could have suspected the spirit of Marat under the mask of Ninon de
+l'Enclos?" muttered Villemart.
+
+"What is this I hear, dearest Kate?" cried the Duchesse de Mirecourt,
+as she drew the young girl's arm within her own. "They tell me you have
+terrified every one,--that Madame de Soissons has gone home ill, and the
+old Chevalier de Gardonnes has sent for his confessor."
+
+"I have been very rash, very foolish," said Kate, as a deadly pallor
+came over her; "but I could bear it no longer. Besides, what does it
+matter? They 'll hear worse, and bear it too, before three days are
+over."
+
+"Then it is all true?" cried the Duchess, eagerly. "You told Villemart
+that when the Government spoke with grape-shot, the people replied with
+the guillotine!"
+
+"Not exactly," said Kate, with a faint smile. "But are they all going?"
+
+"Of course they are. You have frightened them almost to death; and I
+know you only meant it for jest,--one of those little half-cruel jests
+you were ever fond of. Come with me and say so,--come, dearest." And she
+drew her, as she spoke, into the crowded salon, now already a scene of
+excited leave-taking. The brilliant company, however, fell back as they
+came forward, and an expression of mingled dismay and compassion was
+turned towards the young Duchess, who with a kind of heroic courage drew
+Kate's arm closer within her own.
+
+"I am come to make an explanation, messieurs et mesdames," said the
+Duchess, with her most captivating smile; "pray vouchsafe me a hearing.
+My friend--my dearest, best friend here--has, in a moment of sportive
+pleasantry, suffered herself to jest--"
+
+"It was a jest, then?" broke in Madame de Longueville, haughtily.
+
+"Just as that is," replied Kate, lifting her hand and pointing in the
+direction whence came a terrible crash of artillery, followed by the
+rattle of musketry.
+
+"Let us go,--let us away!" was now heard in affrighted accents on every
+side; and the splendid assemblage, with less of ceremony than might be
+expected, began to depart. Lady Dorothea alone was ignorant of what had
+occurred, and witnessed this sudden leave-taking with amazement. "You
+are surely not afraid?" said she to one; "there is nothing serious in
+all this."
+
+"She has told us the reverse, my Lady," was the reply. "We should be
+compromised to remain longer in her company."
+
+"Adieu, my Lady. I wish we left you in safer companionship."
+
+"Farewell, Madame, and pray be warned of your danger," whispered
+another.
+
+"Your Ladyship may be called upon to acquit debts contracted by another,
+if Mademoiselle continues a member of your family," said Villemart, as
+he bowed his departure.
+
+"Believe me, Madame, none of us include _you_ in the terrible sentiments
+we have listened to."
+
+These, and a vast number of similar speeches attended the leave-taking
+of nearly each of her guests, till Lady Dorothea, confused, almost
+stunned by reiterated shocks, sat silently accepting these mysterious
+announcements, and almost imagining herself in all the bewilderment of a
+dream.
+
+Twice she made an effort to ask some explanation, but failed; and it was
+only as the Duchesse de Mirecourt drew nigh to say farewell, that in a
+faint, weak voice she said,--"Can you tell me what all are hinting at,
+or am I only confusing myself with the terrible scenes without?"
+
+"I 'd have prevented it had I been near. I only heard it when too late,
+my Lady," said the Duchess, sorrowfully.
+
+"Prevented what?--heard what?" cried Lady Dorothea.
+
+"Besides, she has often said as much amongst ourselves; we only laughed,
+as indeed every one would do now, did not events present so formidable
+an aspect."
+
+"Who is she you speak of? Tell me, I beseech you. What does this mean?"
+
+"I am the culprit, my Lady," said Kate, approaching with all the
+quiet stateliness of her peculiar manner. "I have routed this gorgeous
+assembly, shocked your most distinguished guests, and horrified all
+whose sentiments breathe loyalty! I am sincerely sorry for my offence;
+and it is a grave one."
+
+"_You--you_ have dared to do this?"
+
+"Too true, madam," rejoined Kate.
+
+"How and to whom have you had the insolence--"
+
+She stopped, overcome by passion; and Kate replied,--"To all who pleased
+to listen, my Lady, I have said what doubtless is not often uttered in
+such choice company, but what, if I mistake not greatly, their ears will
+grow familiar with erelong."
+
+"Nay, nay," said the Duchess, in a tone of apology, "the matter is not
+so serious as all this. Every one now is terrified. This disturbance,
+the soldiery, the vast crowds that beset the streets, have all produced
+so much excitement that even a few words spoken at random are enough
+to cause fear. It is one of Kate's fancies to terrorize thus over weak
+minds. She has the cruel triumph of not knowing what fear is. In a word,
+it is a mere trifling event, sure to be forgotten in the midst of such
+scenes as we are passing through."
+
+This attempt at explanation, poured forth with rapid utterance, did not
+produce on Lady Dorothea the conviction it was intended to impose, and
+her Ladyship received the last adieus of the Duchess with a cold and
+stately formality; and then, as the door closed after her, turned to
+Kate Henderson, and said,--"I want _your_ explanation of all this. Let
+me have it."
+
+"It is easily given, my Lady," said Kate, calmly. And then, in a voice
+that never trembled nor varied, she narrated briefly the scene which
+had just occurred, not extenuating in the slightest her own share in the
+transaction, or offering a single syllable of excuse.
+
+"And you, being who and what you are, dared thus to outrage the best
+blood of France!" exclaimed Lady Dorothea, trembling all over with
+passion.
+
+"Perhaps, my Lady, if I sought for an apology, it would be in the fact
+of being who and what I am."
+
+"And do you imagine that after conduct such as this, after exposing me
+to a partnership in the shame that attaches to yourself, that you are
+any longer to enjoy the shelter of my roof?"
+
+"It never occurred to me to think of that, madam," said Kate, with an
+ill-repressed scorn.
+
+"Then it is for _me_ to remind you of it," said her Ladyship, sternly.
+"You shall, first of all, write me an humble apology for this vulgar
+tirade, this outrage upon my company, and then you shall leave the
+house. Sit down there, and write as I shall dictate to you."
+
+Kate seated herself with an air of implicit obedience at a
+writing-table, and took up a pen.
+
+"Write," cried Lady Dorothea, sternly. "Begin, 'My Lady.' No. 'I
+approach your Ladyship for the last time.' No, not that. 'If the sincere
+sorrow in which I pen these lines.' No. Do it yourself. You best can
+express the shame your heart should feel in such a moment. Let the words
+be your own!"
+
+Kate leaned over the paper and wrote rapidly for a few seconds. Having
+finished, she read over the lines, and seemed to reflect on them.
+
+"Show me that paper!" cried Lady Dorothea, impatiently. But, without
+obeying the command, Kate said,--"Your Ladyship will not be able to
+leave Paris for at least forty hours. By that time the Monarchy will
+have run its course in France. You will probably desire, however, to
+escape from the scenes of turbulence sure to ensue. This will secure you
+a free passage, whichever road you take."
+
+"What raving is all this?" said Lady Dorothea, snatching the paper
+from her hand, and then reading aloud in French,-- "'The authorities
+are required to aid and tender all assistance in their power to Lady
+Dorothea Martin and all who accompany her, neither giving nor suffering
+any opposition to be given to her or them in the prosecution of their
+journey.'
+
+(Signed) "Jules Lagrange,
+
+"'Minister of Police _ad interim_'
+
+"And this in your own hand, too!" exclaimed Lady Dorothea,
+contemptuously.
+
+"Yes, madam; but it will entitle it to the seal of the Prefecture, and
+entitle _you_ to all that it professes."
+
+"So that I have the honor to shelter within my walls a chief of this
+insurrection,--if it be worthy of such a name; one in the confidence of
+this stupid _canaille_, who fancy that the fall of a Monarchy is like a
+row in a _guinguette!_"
+
+"Your Ladyship is no longer in a position to question me or arraign
+my actions. Before two days are over, the pageant of a king will have
+passed off the stage, and men of a different stamp take the direction
+of affairs. One of these will be he whose name I have affixed to that
+paper,--not without due warranty to do so. Your Ladyship may or may not
+choose to avail yourself of it."
+
+"I spurn the imposition," said Lady Dorothea, tearing it in fragments.
+"So poor a cheat could not deceive _me_. As for yourself--"
+
+"Oh, do not bestow a thought upon _me_, my Lady. I can suffice for my
+own guidance. I only wait for morning to leave this house."
+
+"And it is to a city in such a state as this you would confide yourself.
+Truly, mademoiselle, Republicanism has a right to be proud of you. You
+are no half-convert to its principles."
+
+"Am I again to say, my Lady, that your control over me has ceased?"
+
+"It has not. It shall not cease till I have restored you to the humble
+roof from which I took you," said Lady Dorothea, passionately. "Your
+father is our creature; he has no other subsistence than what we
+condescend to bestow on him. He shall know, when you re-enter his doors,
+why and for what cause you are there. Till that time come, you are, as
+you have been, in my service."
+
+"No, my Lady, the tie between us is snapped. Dependence is but a sad
+part at the best; but so long as it is coupled with a certain show of
+respect it is bearable. Destroy _that_, and it is mere slavery, abject
+and degrading. I cannot go back to your Ladyship's service." And she
+gave to the last word an emphasis of intense scorn.
+
+"You must and you shall," said Lady Dorothea. "If _you_ are forgetful
+of what it is your duty to remember, I am not. Here you shall remain;
+without," added she, in an accent of supreme contempt, "your counsel and
+direction shall be sought after by the high and mighty individuals who
+are so soon to administer the affairs of this nation."
+
+The loud roll of a drum, followed by the louder clank of sabres and
+musketry, here startled the speakers; and Kate, hastening to the window,
+opened it, and stepped out upon the balcony. Day was just dawning; a
+gray half-light covered the sky, but the dark shadows of the tall
+houses still stretched over the Place. Here, now, the troops were all in
+motion; a sudden summons having roused them to form in rank. The hasty
+character of the movement showed that some emergency was imminent,--a
+fact confirmed by the frequent arrival and departure of orderlies at
+full speed.
+
+After a brief interval of preparation the infantry formed in column,
+and, followed by the artillery and cavalry, moved out of the Place at
+a quick step. The measured tramp of the foot-soldiers, the clattering
+noise of the train and the dragoons could be heard long after they had
+passed out of sight; and Kate stood listening eagerly as to what would
+come next, when suddenly a man in plain clothes rode hastily from one of
+the side-streets into the centre of the Place. He looked around him for
+a moment or two, and then disappeared. Within a few seconds after, a
+dull, indistinct sound seemed to rise from the ground, which swelled
+gradually louder and louder, and at last grew into the regular footfall
+of a great multitude moving in measured time; and now a vast crowd
+poured into the Place, silent and wordless. On they came from the
+various quarters that opened into the square,--men, for the most part
+clad in blouses or in the coarse garb of laborers. They were armed
+either with musket or sword, and in many instances wore the cross-belt
+of the soldier. They proceeded at once to barricade the square at its
+opening into the Rue de la Paix,--a work which they accomplished with
+astonishing speed and regularity; for, while Kate still looked, a
+formidable rampart was thrown up across the entire street, along which a
+line of armed men was stationed, every one of whom, by his attitude and
+gesture, betrayed the old discipline of a soldier's life. Orders were
+given and obeyed, movements made, and dispositions effected, with
+all the regularity and precision of regular troops; and by the ready
+obedience of all, and the steady attitude observed, it was easy to see
+that these men were trained to arms and to habits of discipline. Not
+less evident was it that they who commanded them were not new to such
+duties. But, more important than all such signs was the fact that here
+and there through the mass might be seen the uniform of a soldier, or
+the epaulette of an officer, showing that desertion to the ranks of the
+people had already begun.
+
+Kate was so occupied in attentive observation of the scene that she had
+not noticed the arrival of another person in the apartment, and whose
+voice now suddenly attracted her. It was Martin himself, hastily aroused
+from his bed by his servant, who in great alarm told him that the
+capital was in open revolt, the king's troops beaten back, and the
+people victorious everywhere. "There 's not a moment to lose," cried
+he; "we must escape while we can. The road to Versailles is yet in
+possession of the troops, and we can take that way."
+
+Lady Dorothea, partly overcome by the late scene, partly stunned by the
+repeated shocks she experienced, made no reply whatever; and Martin,
+judging from the expression of her features the anxiety she was
+suffering, hastily added, "Let me see Kate Henderson,--where is she?"
+
+Lady Dorothea merely pointed towards the balcony, but did not utter a
+word.
+
+"Oh, have I found you?" said Martin, stepping out upon the balcony. "You
+see what is doing,--I might say what is done," added he; "for I believe
+the game is well-nigh decided. Nothing but an overwhelming force will
+now crush this populace. We must get away, and at once. Will you give
+the orders? Send for post-horses; tell them to pack up whatever they
+can,--direct everything, in fact. My Lady is too ill,--too much overcome
+to act, or think of anything. Our whole reliance is upon you." While he
+was yet uttering these broken, disjointed sentences, he had drawn Kate
+by the arm within the room, and now stood beside Lady Dorothea's chair.
+Her Ladyship raised her head and fixed her eyes upon Kate, who sustained
+the gaze calmly and steadily, nor by the slightest movement displayed
+one touch of any emotion. The glance, at first haughty and defiant,
+seemed at length to grow weaker under the unmoved stare of the young
+girl, and finally she bent down her head and sat as though overcome.
+
+"Come, Dora," said Martin, kindly, "rouse yourself; you are always equal
+to an effort when necessity presses. Tell Kate here what you wish, and
+she 'll do it."
+
+"I want no aid,--no assistance, sir. Miss Henderson is her own
+mistress,--she may do what, or go where she pleases."
+
+Martin made a sign to Kate not to mind what he believed to be the mere
+wandering of an over-excited brain; and then bending down over the
+chair, said, "Dear Dora, we must be active and stirring; the people will
+soon be masters of the capital,--for a while, at least,--and there is no
+saying what excesses they will commit."
+
+"Do not offend Miss Henderson, sir," interposed Lady Dorothea; "she has
+equal confidence in their valor and their virtue."
+
+"What does this mean?--when did she fall into this state?" asked he,
+eagerly. And although only spoken in a whisper, Lady Dorothea overheard
+them, and said,--"Let _her_ tell you. She can give you the very fullest
+explanation."
+
+"But, Dora, this is no time for trifling; we are here, in the midst of
+an enraged populace and a maddened soldiery. There, listen!--that was
+artillery; and now, hear!--the bells of the churches are sounding the
+alarm."
+
+"They are ringing the knell of the Monarchy!" said Kate, solemnly.
+
+A hoarse, wild shout--aery like that of enraged wild beasts--arose
+from the Place beneath, and all rushed to the window to see what had
+occurred. It was a charge of heavy cavalry endeavoring to force the
+barricade; and now, vigorously repulsed by the defenders, men and horses
+were rolling on the ground in terrible confusion, while on the barricade
+itself a hand-to-hand conflict was raging.
+
+"Sharp work, by George!" said a voice behind Kate's shoulder. She turned
+and saw Captain Martin, who had just joined them unobserved.
+
+"I thought you many a mile away," said Kate, in a whisper.
+
+"So I should have been," replied he, in the same tone, "but I was n't
+going to lose this. I knew it was to come off to-day, and I thought it
+would have been a thousand pities to be absent."
+
+"And are your wishes, then, with these gallant fellows?" said she,
+eagerly. "Do I hear you aright, that it was to aid them you remained?
+There! see how they bear down on the soldiery; they will not be
+restrained; they are crossing the barricade, and charging with the
+bayonet. It is only for liberty that men can fight thus. Oh that I were
+a man, to be amongst them!"
+
+A stray shot from beneath here struck the architrave above their heads,
+and sent down a mass of plaster over them.
+
+"Come, Dora, this is needless peril," said Martin, drawing her within
+the room. "If you will not leave this, at least do not expose yourself
+unnecessarily."
+
+"But it is exactly to get away--to escape while there is time--that I
+came for," said the Captain. "They tell me that the mob are getting the
+best of it, and, worse again, that the troops are joining them; so,
+to make sure, I 've sent off Fenton to the post for horses, and I 'm
+expecting him every moment. But here he is. Well, have you got the
+horses?"
+
+"No, sir: the horses have all been taken by the people to mount
+orderlies; the postmaster, too, has fled, and everything is in
+confusion. But if we had horses the streets are impassable; from here to
+the Boulevard there are no less than five barricades."
+
+"Then what is to be done?" cried Martin.
+
+"They say, sir," replied Fenton, "that by gaining the outer Boulevard on
+foot, carriages and horses are easily found there, to reach Belleville,
+St. Germain, or Versailles."
+
+"He is right," said the Captain; "there is nothing else to be done. What
+do _you_ think?" said he, addressing Kate, who stood intently watching
+the movements in the Place beneath.
+
+"Yes; do you agree with this plan?" asked Martin, approaching her.
+
+"Look!" cried she, eagerly, and not heeding the question; "the troops
+are rapidly joining the people,--they come in numbers now,--and yonder
+is an officer in his uniform."
+
+"Shame on him!" exclaimed Lady Dorothea, indignantly.
+
+"So say I too," said Kate. "He who wears a livery should not assume the
+port and bearing of a free man. This struggle is for liberty, and should
+only be maintained by the free!"
+
+"How are we to pass these barricades?" cried Martin, anxiously.
+
+"I will be your guide, sir, if that be all," said Kate. "You may trust
+me. I promise no more than I can perform."
+
+"She speaks truly," said Lady Dorothea. "Alas that we should see the day
+when we cannot reject the aid!"
+
+"There is a matter I want to speak to you about," said Martin,
+drawing his father aside, and speaking in a low, confidential tone.
+"Massingbred--Jack Massingbred--is now here, in my room. I know all
+about my mother's dislike to him, and _he_ knows it; indeed, he has as
+much as owned to me that he deserved it all. But what is to be done? We
+cannot leave him here."
+
+"How came he to be here?" asked Martin.
+
+"He accompanied me from the Club, where, in an altercation of some sort,
+he had just involved himself in a serious quarrel. He came here to be
+ready to start this morning for Versailles, where the meeting was to
+take place; but indeed he had no thought of accepting shelter under
+our roof; and when he found where he was, it was with the greatest
+difficulty I could persuade him to enter. None of us anticipated such a
+serious turn of affairs as this; and now, of course, a meeting will be
+scarcely possible. What are we to do with him?"
+
+"Ask him frankly to join us if we obtain the horses."
+
+"But my mother?"
+
+"I 'll speak to her,--but it were better you did it, Harry. These are
+not times to weigh scruples and balance difficulties. I don't myself
+think that Massingbred treated us fairly, but it is not now I 'd like to
+remember it. There, go; tell her what you have told me, and all will be
+well."
+
+The Captain drew nigh Lady Dorothea, and, leaning over her chair,
+whispered to her for some minutes. At first, a slight gesture of
+impatience burst from her, but afterwards she seemed to hear him calmly
+and tranquilly.
+
+"It would seem as though the humiliations of this night are never to
+have an end," said she, with a sigh. "But I'll bear my share of them."
+
+"Remember," said the other, "that it was by no choice of _his_ he came
+here. His foot was on the threshold before he suspected it."
+
+"Miss Henderson sent me, my Lady," said a servant, entering hastily, "to
+say that there is not a minute to be lost. They are expecting an attack
+on the barricade in the Rue de la Paix, and we ought to pass through at
+once."
+
+"By whose orders?" began she, haughtily; then, checking herself
+suddenly, and in a voice weak and broken, added: "I am ready. Give me
+your arm, Harry, and do not leave me. Where is Mr. Martin?" asked she.
+
+"He is waiting for your Ladyship at the foot of the stairs with another
+gentleman," said the servant.
+
+"That must be Massingbred, for I told them to call him," said the
+Captain.
+
+When Lady Dorothea, supported by the arm of her son, had reached
+the gate, she found Martin and Massingbred standing to receive them,
+surrounded by a numerous escort of servants, each loaded with some
+portion of the family baggage.
+
+"A hasty summons, sir," said she, addressing Massingbred, and thus
+abruptly avoiding the awkwardness of a more ceremonious meeting. "A
+few hours back none of us anticipated anything like this. Will it end
+seriously, think you?"
+
+"There is every prospect of such, madam," said he, bowing respectfully
+to her salutation. "Every moment brings fresh tidings of defection among
+the troops, while the Marshal is paralyzed by contradictory orders."
+
+"Is it always to be the fate of monarchy to be badly served in times of
+peril?" said she, bitterly.
+
+"It is very difficult to awaken loyalty against one's convictions of
+right, madam. I mean," added he, as a gesture of impatience broke from
+her, "that these acts of the king, having no support from his real
+friends, are weak stimulants to evoke deeds of daring and courage."
+
+"They are unworthy supporters of a Crown who only defend what they
+approve of. This is but Democracy at best, and smacks of the policy
+which has little to lose and everything to gain by times of trouble."
+
+"And yet, madam, such cannot be the case here; at least, it is assuredly
+not so in the instance of him who is now speaking with Miss Henderson."
+And he pointed to a man who, holding the bridle of his horse on his arm,
+walked slowly at Kate's side in the street before the door.
+
+"And who is he?" asked she, eagerly.
+
+"The greatest banker in Paris, madam,--one of the richest capitalists of
+Europe,--ready to resign all his fortune in the struggle against a rule
+which he foresees intended to bring back the days of a worn-out, effete
+monarchy, rather than a system which shall invigorate the nation, and
+enrich it by the arts of commerce and trade."
+
+"But his name--who is he?" asked she, more impatiently.
+
+"Charles Lagrange, madam."
+
+"I have heard the name before. I have seen it somewhere lately," said
+she, trying to remember where and how.
+
+"You could scarcely have paid your respects at Neuilly, madam,
+without seeing him. He was, besides, the favored guest at Madame de
+Mirecourt's."
+
+"You would not imply, sir, that the Duchess condescended to any sympathy
+with this party?"
+
+"More than half the Court, madam, are against the Crown; I will not say,
+however, that they are, on that account, for the people."
+
+"There! she is making a sign to us to follow her," said Martin, pointing
+towards Kate, who, still conversing with her companion, motioned to the
+others to come up.
+
+"It is from that quarter we receive our orders," said Lady Dorothea,
+sneeringly, as she prepared to follow.
+
+"What has she to do with it?" exclaimed the Captain. "To look at her,
+one would say she was deep in the whole business."
+
+A second gesture, more urgent than before, now summoned the party to
+make haste.
+
+Through the Place, crowded as it was by an armed and excited multitude,
+way was rapidly made for the little party who now issued from the door
+of the hotel. Kate Henderson walked in front, with Massingbred at her
+side talking eagerly, and by his gestures seeming as though endeavoring
+to extenuate or explain away something in his conduct; next came Lady
+Dorothea, supported between her husband and her son, and while walking
+slowly and with faltering steps, still carrying her head proudly erect,
+and gazing on the stern faces around her with looks of haughty contempt.
+After them were a numerous retinue of servants, with such effects as
+they had got hurriedly together,--a terror-struck set, scarcely able to
+crawl along from fear.
+
+As they drew nigh the barricade, some men proceeded to remove a heavy
+wagon which adjoined a house, and by the speed and activity of their
+movements, urged on as they were by the orders of one in command, it
+might be seen that the operation demanded promptitude.
+
+"We are scarcely safe in this," cried the officer. "See! they are making
+signs to us from the windows,--the troops are coming. If you pass out
+now, you will be between two fires."
+
+"There is yet time," said Kate, eagerly. "Our presence in the street,
+too, will delay them, and give you some minutes to prepare. And as for
+ourselves, we shall gain one of the side-streets easily enough."
+
+"Tie your handkerchief to your cane, sir," said the officer to
+Massingbred.
+
+"My flag is ready," said Jack, gayly; "I only hope they may respect it."
+
+"Now--now!" cried Kate, with eagerness, and beckoning to Lady Dorothea
+to hasten, "the passage is free, and not a second to be lost!"
+
+"Are you not coming with us?" whispered Martin to her, as they passed
+out.
+
+"Yes; I'll follow. But," added she, in a lower tone, "were the choice
+given me, it is here I 'd take my stand."
+
+She looked full at Massingbred as she spoke, and, bending down his head,
+he said, "Had it been your place, it were mine also!"
+
+"Quick,--quick, my Lady," said Kate. "They must close up the passage at
+once. They are expecting an attack." And so saying, she motioned rapidly
+to Martin to move on.
+
+"The woman is a fiend," said Lady Dorothea; "see how her eyes sparkle,
+and mark the wild exultation of her features."
+
+"Adieu, sir,--adieu!" said Kate, waving her hand to one who seemed the
+chief of the party. "All my wishes are with you. Were I a man, my hand
+should guarantee my heart."
+
+"Come--come back!" cried the officer. "You are too late. There comes the
+head of the column."
+
+"No, never--never!" exclamed Lady Dorothea, haughtily; "protection from
+such as these is worse than any death."
+
+"Give me the flag, then," cried Kate, snatching it from Massingbred's
+hand, and hastening on before the others. And now the heavy wagon had
+fallen back to its place, and a serried file of muskets peeped over it.
+
+"Where's Massingbred?" asked the Captain, eagerly.
+
+"Yonder,--where he ought to be!" exclaimed Kate, proudly, pointing
+to the barricade, upon which, now, Jack was standing conspicuously, a
+musket on his arm.
+
+The troops in front were not the head of a column, but the advanced
+guard of a force evidently at some distance off, and instead of
+advancing on the barricade, they drew up and halted in triple file
+across the street. Their attitude of silent, stern defiance--for it was
+such--evoked a wild burst of popular fury, and epithets of abuse and
+insult were heaped upon them from windows and parapets.
+
+"They are the famous Twenty-Second of the Line," said the Captain, "who
+forced the Pont-Neuf yesterday and drove the mob before them."
+
+"It is fortunate for us that we fall into such hands," said Lady
+Dorothea, waving her handkerchief as she advanced. But Kate had already
+approached the line, and now halted at a command from the officer. While
+she endeavored to explain how and why they were there, the cries and
+menaces of the populace grew louder and wilder. The officer, a
+very young subaltern, seemed confused and flurried; his eyes turned
+constantly towards the street from which they had advanced, and he
+seemed anxiously expecting the arrival of the regiment.
+
+"I cannot give you a convoy, Mademoiselle," he said; "I. scarcely know
+if I have the right to let you pass. We may be attacked at any moment;
+for aught I can tell, _you_ may be in the interests of the insurgents--"
+
+"We are cut off, Lieutenant," cried a sergeant, running up at the
+moment. "They have thrown up a barrier behind us, and it is armed
+already."
+
+"Lay down your arms, then," said Kate, "and do not sacrifice your brave
+fellows in a hopeless straggle."
+
+"Listen not to her, young man, but give heed to your honor and your
+loyalty," cried Lady Dorothea. "Is it against such an enemy as this
+French soldiers fear to advance?"
+
+"Forward!" cried the officer, waving his sword above his head. "Let
+us carry the barricade!" And a wild yell of defiance from the windows
+repeated the speech in derision.
+
+"You are going to certain death!" cried Kate, throwing herself before
+him. "Let _me_ make terms for you, and they shall not bring dishonor on
+you."
+
+"Here comes the regiment!" called out the sergeant. "They have forced
+the barricade." And the quick tramp of a column, as they came at a run,
+now shook the street.
+
+"Remember your cause and your King, sir," cried Lady Dorothea to the
+officer.
+
+"Bethink you of your country,--of France,--and of Liberty!" said Kate,
+as she grasped his arm.
+
+"Stand back!--back to the houses!" said he, waving his sword.
+"Voltigeurs, to the front!"
+
+The command was scarcely issued, when a hail of balls rattled through
+the air. The defenders of the barricade had opened their fire, and with
+a deadly precision, too, for several fell at the very first discharge.
+
+"Back to the houses!" exclaimed Martin, dragging Lady Dorothea along,
+who, in her eagerness, now forgot all personal danger, and only thought
+of the contest before her.
+
+"Get under cover of the troops,--to the rear!" cried the Captain, as he
+endeavored to bear her away.
+
+"Back--back--beneath the archway!" cried Kate, as, throwing her arms
+around Lady Dorothea, she lifted her fairly from the ground, and carried
+her within the deep recess of a _porte cochere_. Scarcely, however, had
+she deposited her in safety, than she fell tottering backwards and sank
+to the ground.
+
+"Good Heavens! she is struck," exclaimed Martin, bending over her.
+
+"It is nothing,--a spent shot, and no more," said Kate, as she showed
+the bullet which had perforated her dress beneath the arm.
+
+"A good soldier, by Jove!" said the Captain, gazing with real admiration
+on the beautiful features before him; the faint smile she wore
+heightening their loveliness, and contrasting happily with their pallor.
+
+"There they go! They are up the barricade already; they are over
+it,--through it!" cried the Captain. "Gallantly done!--gloriously done!
+No, by Jove! they are falling back; the fire is murderous. See how they
+bayonet them. The troops must win. They move together; they are like a
+wall! In vain, in vain; they cannot do it! They are beaten,--they are
+lost!"
+
+"Who are lost?" said Kate, in a half-fainting voice.
+
+"The soldiers. And there 's Massingbred on the top of the
+barricade, in the midst of it all. I see his hat They are driven
+back--beaten--beaten!"
+
+"Come in quickly," cried a voice from behind; and a small portion of the
+door was opened to admit them. "The soldiers are retiring, and will kill
+all before them."
+
+"Let _me_ aid you; it is _my_ turn now," said Lady Dorothea, assisting
+Kate to rise. "Good Heavens! her arm is broken,--it is smashed in two."
+And she caught the fainting girl in her arms.
+
+Gathering around, they bore her within the gate, and had but time to bar
+and bolt it when the hurried tramp without, and the wild yell of popular
+triumph, told that the soldiers were retreating, beaten and defeated.
+
+"And this to save me!" said Lady Dorothea, as she stooped over her. And
+the scalding tears dropped one by one on Kate's cheek.
+
+"Tear this handkerchief, and bind it around my arm," said Kate, calmly;
+"the pain is not very great, and there will be no bleeding, the doctors
+say, from a gun-shot wound."
+
+"I'll be the surgeon," said the Captain, addressing himself to the task
+with more of skill than might be expected. "I 've seen many a fellow
+struck down who did n't bear it as calmly," muttered he, as he bent over
+her. "Am I giving you any pain?"
+
+"Not in the least; and if I were in torture, that glorious cheer outside
+would rally me. Hear!--listen!--the soldiers are in full retreat; the
+people, the noble-hearted people, are the conquerors!"
+
+"Be calm, and think of yourself," said Lady Dorothea, mildly, to her;
+"such excitement may peril your very life."
+
+"And it is worth a thousand lives to taste of it," said she, while her
+cheek flushed, and her dark eyes gleamed with added lustre.
+
+"The street is clear now," said one of the servants to Martin, "and we
+might reach the Boulevard with ease."
+
+"Let us go, then," said Lady Dorothea. "Let us look to _her_ and think
+of nothing till she be cared for."
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IX. SOME CONFESSIONS OF JACK MASSINGBRED
+
+Upon two several occasions have we committed to Jack Massingbred the
+task of conducting this truthful history; for the third time do we now
+purpose to make his correspondence the link between the past and what is
+to follow. We are not quite sure that the course we thus adopt is free
+from its share of inconvenience, but we take it to avoid the evils of
+reiteration inseparable from following out the same events from merely
+different points of view. There is also another advantage to be gained.
+Jack is before our readers; we are not. Jack is an acquaintance; we
+cannot aspire to that honor. Jack's opinions, right or wrong as they may
+be, are part and parcel of a character already awaiting their verdict.
+What he thought and felt, hoped, feared, or wished, are the materials by
+which he is to be judged; and so we leave his cause in his own hands.
+
+His letter is addressed to the same correspondent to whom he wrote
+before. It is written, too, at different intervals, and in different
+moods of mind. Like the letters of many men who practise concealment
+with the world at large, it is remarkable for great frankness and
+sincerity. He throws away his mask with such evident signs of enjoyment
+that we only wonder if he can ever resume it; but crafty men like to
+relax into candor, as royalty is said to indulge with pleasure in the
+chance moments of pretended equality. It is, at all events, a novel
+sensation; and even that much, in this routine life of ours, is
+something!
+
+He writes from Spa, and after some replies to matters with which we have
+no concern, proceeds thus:--
+
+"Of the Revolution, then, and the Three Glorious Days as they are
+called, I can tell you next to nothing, and for this simple reason,
+that I was there fighting, shouting, throwing up barricades, singing the
+'Marseillaise,' smashing furniture, and shooting my 'Swiss,' like the
+rest. As to who beat the troops, forced the Tuileries, and drove Marmont
+back, you must consult the newspapers. Personal adventures I could give
+you to satiety, hairbreadth 'scapes and acts of heroism by the dozen;
+but these narratives are never new, and always tiresome. The serious
+reflectiveness sounds like humbug, and, if one treats them lightly,
+the flippancy is an offence. Jocular heroism is ever an insult to the
+reader.
+
+"You say, '_Que diable allait-il faire dans cette galere?_' and I
+answer, it was all _her_ doing. Yes, Harry, _she_ was there. I was
+thinking of nothing less in the world than a great 'blow for freedom,'
+as the 'Globe' has it. I had troubled my head wonderfully little about
+the whole affair. Any little interest I took was in the notion that if
+our 'natural enemies,' the French, were to fall to and kill each other,
+there would be so much the fewer left to fight against us; but as to who
+was to get the upper hand, or what they were to do when they had it,
+I gave myself no imaginable concern. I had a vague, shadowy kind of
+impression that the government was a bad one, but I had a much
+stronger conviction that the people deserved no better. My leanings--my
+instincts, if you prefer it--were with the Crown. The mob and its
+sentiments are always repulsive. Popular enthusiasm is a great ocean,
+but it is an ocean of dirty water, and you cannot come out clean from
+the contact; and so I should have wished well to royalty, but for an
+accident,--a mere trifle in its way, but one quite sufficient, even on
+historic grounds, to account for a man's change of opinions. The troops
+shot my cab-horse, sent a bullet through poor 'Beverley,' and seriously
+damaged a new hat which I wore at the time, accompanying these acts with
+expressions the reverse of compliment or civility. I was pitched out
+into the gutter, and, most appropriately you will say, I got up a
+Radical, a Democrat, a Fourierist,--anything, in short, that shouts
+'Down with Kings, and up with the Sovereign People!'
+
+"My principles--don't smile at the word--led me into a stupid
+altercation with a very pleasant acquaintance, and we parted to meet the
+next morning in hostility,--at least, such was our understanding; but by
+the time that our difference should have been settled, _I_ was carried
+away on a stretcher to the Hotel Dieu, wounded, and he was flung, a
+corpse, into the Seine. I intended to have been a most accurate narrator
+of events, journalizing for you, hour by hour, with all the stirring
+excitement of the present tense, but I cannot; the crash and the hubbub
+are still in my brain, and the infernal chaos of the streets is yet
+over me. Not to speak of my wound,--a very ugly sabre-cut in the
+neck,--severing I don't know what amount of nerves, arteries, and
+such-like 'small deer,' every one of which, however, has its own
+peculiar perils in the shape of aneurisms, tetanus, and so forth, in
+case I am not a miracle of patience, calmness, and composure.
+
+"The Martins are nursing and comforting and chicken-brothing me to my
+heart's content, and La Henderson, herself an invalid, with a terrible
+broken arm, comes and reads to me from time to time. What a girl it is!
+Wounded in a street encounter, she actually carried Lady Dorothea into
+a porte-cochere, and when they had lost their heads in terror, could
+neither issue an order to the servants nor know what way to turn, she
+took the guidance of the whole party, obtained horses and carriages and
+an escort, escaped from Paris, and reached Versailles in the midst of
+flying courtiers and dismayed ministers, and actually was the very first
+to bring the tidings that the game of monarchy was up,--that the king
+had nothing left for it but an inglorious flight. To the Duchesse de
+Mire-court she made this communication, which it seems none of the
+court-followers had the courage or honesty to do before. The Duchess, in
+her terror, actually dragged her into the presence of the king, and made
+her repeat what she had said. The scene, as told me, was quite dramatic;
+the king took her hand to lead her to a seat, but it was unfortunately
+of the wounded arm, and she fainted. The sight of the wounded limb so
+affected the nerves of monarchy that he gave immediate orders to depart,
+and was off within an hour.
+
+"How they found me out a patient in a ward of the Hotel Dieu, rescued
+and carried me away with them, I have heard full half a dozen times, but
+I 'm far from being clear enough to repeat the story; and, indeed, when
+I try to recall the period, the only images which rise up before me
+are long ranges of white coverlids, pale faces, and groans and cries of
+suffering, with the dark curly head of a great master of torture
+peeping at me, and whom, I am told, is the Baron Dupuytren,
+the Surgeon-in-Chief. After these comes a vision of litters and
+_charrettes_,--sore joltings and stoppages to drink water--But I shall
+rave if I go on. Better I should tell you of my pleasant little bedroom
+here, opening on a small garden, with a tiny fountain trying to sprinkle
+the wild myrtle and blush-roses around it, and sportively sending its
+little plash over me, as the wind wafts it into my chamber. My luxurious
+chair and easy-cushioned sofa, and my table littered with everything,
+from flowers to French romances; not to speak of the small rustic seat
+beside the window, where she has been sitting the last hour, and has
+only quitted to give me time to write this to you. I know it--I see
+it--all you can say, all that you are saying at this moment, is fifty
+times more forcibly echoing within my own heart, and repeating in fitful
+sentences: 'A ruined man--a broken fortune--a mad attachment--a life of
+struggle, difficulty, and failure!' But why should it be failure? Such a
+girl for a wife ought in itself to be an earnest of success. Are not her
+qualities exactly those that do battle with the difficulties of fortune?
+Self-denial--ambition--courage--an intense, an intuitive knowledge of
+the world--and then, a purpose-like devotion to whatever she undertakes,
+that throws an air of heroism over all her actions.
+
+"Birth--blood--family connections--what have they done for me, except it
+be to entail upon me the necessity of selecting a career amidst the
+two or three that are supposed to suit the well-born? I may be a Life
+Guardsman, or an unpaid attache, but I must not be a physician or a
+merchant. Nor is it alone that certain careers are closed against
+us, but certain opinions too. I must not think ill of the governing
+class,--I must never think well of the governed.
+
+"Well, Harry, the colonies are the remedy for all this. There, at least,
+a man can fashion existence as arbitrarily as he can the shape and
+size of his house. None shall dictate his etiquette, no more than his
+architecture; and I am well weary of the slavery of this old-world life,
+with our worship of old notions and old china, both because they are
+cracked, damaged, and useless. I 'll marry her. I have made up my mind
+on 't. Spare me all your remonstrances, all your mock compassion. Nor
+is it like a fellow who has not seen the world in its best gala suit,
+affecting to despise rank, splendor, and high station. _I have_ seen
+the thing. I have cantered my thoroughbred along Rotten Row, eaten my
+truffled dinners in Belgravia, whispered my nonsense over the white
+shoulders of the fairest and best-born of England's daughters. I know
+to a decimal fraction the value of all these; and, what 's more, I know
+what one pays for them,--the miserable vassalage, the poor slavery of
+mind, soul, and body they cost!
+
+"It is the terror of exclusion here, the dread of coldness there--the
+possibility of offence to 'his Grace' on this side, or misconception by
+'her Ladyship' on that--sway and rule a man so that he may neither eat,
+drink, nor sleep without a 'Court Guide' in his pocket. I 've done with
+it! now and forever,--I tell you frankly,--I return no more to this
+bondage.
+
+"I have written a farewell address to my worthy constituents of
+Oughterard. I have told them that, 'feeling an instinct of independence
+within me, I can no longer remain their representative; that, as a man
+of honor, I shrink from the jobbery of the little borough politicians,
+and, as a gentleman, I beg to decline their intimacy.' They took me for
+want of a better--I leave them for the same reason.
+
+"To my father I have said: 'Let us make a compromise. As your son I
+have a claim on the House. Now, what will you give for my share? I 'll
+neither importune you for place, nor embarrass you with solicitations
+for employment. Help me to stock my knapsack, and I 'll find my road
+myself.' _She_ knows nothing of these steps on my part; nor shall she,
+till they have become irrevocable. She is too proud ever to consent to
+what would cost me thus heavily; but the expense once incurred,--the
+outlay made,--she cannot object to what has become the law of my future
+life.
+
+"I send off these two documents to-night; this done, I shall write to
+her an offer of marriage. What a fever I 'm in! and all because I feel
+the necessity of defending myself to _you_,--to you of all men the most
+headstrong, reckless, and self-indulgent,--a fellow who never curbed a
+caprice nor restrained a passing fancy; and yet you are just the man
+to light your cigar, and while you puff away your blue cloud, mutter on
+about rashness, folly, insanity, and the rest of it, as if the state of
+your bank account should make that wisdom in _you_, which with _me_ is
+but mere madness! But I tell you, Harry, it is your very thousands per
+annum that preclude you from doing what I can. It is your house in town,
+your stud at Tattersall's, your yacht at Cowes, your grouse-lodge in the
+Highlands, that tie and fetter you to live like some scores of others,
+with whom you have n't one solitary sympathy, save in income! You are
+bound up in all the recognizances of your wealth to dine stupidly, sup
+languidly, and sink down at last into a marriage of convenience,--to
+make a wife of her whom 'her Grace' has chosen for you without a single
+speculation in the contract save the thought of the earl you will be
+allied to, and the four noble families you 'll have the right to go in
+mourning for.
+
+"And what worse than cant it is to talk of what they call an indiscreet
+match! What does--what can the world know as to the reasons that impel
+you, or me, or anybody else, to form a certain attachment? Are they
+acquainted with our secret and most hidden emotions? Do they understand
+the project of life we have planned to ourselves? Have they read our
+utter weariness and contempt for forms that _they_ venerate, and social
+distinctions that _they_ worship? I am aware that in some cases it
+requires courage to do this; and in doing it a man virtually throws down
+the glove to the whole world, and says, 'This woman's love is to me more
+than all of you'--and so say I at this moment. I must cry halt, I see,
+Harry. I have set these nerves at work in my wound, and the pain is
+agony. Tomorrow--to-night, if I 'm able--I shall continue.
+
+"Midnight." They have just wished me good-night, after having spent the
+evening here reading out the newspapers for me, commenting upon them,
+and exerting themselves to amuse me in a hundred good-natured ways. You
+would like this same stately old Lady Dorothea. She is really 'Grande
+Dame' in every respect,--dress, air, carriage, gesture, even her slow
+and measured speech is imposing, and her prejudices, uttered as they are
+in such perfect sincerity of heart, have something touching about them,
+and her sorrowful pity for the mob sounded more gracefully than Kate's
+enthusiastic estimate of their high deservings. It does go terribly
+against the grain to fancy an alliance between coarse natures and noble
+sentiments, and to believe in the native nobility of those who never
+touch soap! I have had a kind of skirmish with La Henderson upon this
+theme to-night. She was cross and out of temper, and bore my bantering
+badly. The fact is, she is utterly disgusted at the turn things have
+taken in France; and not altogether without reason, since, after all
+their bluster and bloodshed and barricades, they have gone back to a
+monarchy again. They barred out the master to make 'the head usher' top
+of the school. Let us see if he won't be as fond of the birch as his
+predecessor. Like all mutineers, they found they could n't steer the
+ship when they had murdered the captain! How hopeless it makes one of
+humanity to see such a spectacle as this, Harry, and how low is one's
+estimate of the species after such experience! You meet some half-dozen
+semi-bald, spectacled old gentlemen in society, somewhat more reserved
+than the rest of the company, fond of talking to each other, and rather
+distrustful of strangers; you find them slow conversers at dinner, sorry
+whist-players in the drawing-room; you are told, however, that one is a
+President of the Council, another the Secretary for Foreign Affairs,
+and a third something equally important. You venerate them
+accordingly, while you mutter the old Swede's apothegm about the 'small
+intelligences' that rule mankind. Wait awhile! There is a row in the
+streets: a pickpocket has appealed to the public to rescue him from the
+ignoble hands of the police; an escaped felon has fired at the judge who
+sentenced him, in the name of Liberty and Fraternity. No matter what
+the cause, there _is_ a row. The troops are called out; some
+are beaten, some join the insurgents. The government grows
+frightened--temporizes--offers terms--and sends for more soldiers.
+The people--I never clearly knew what the word meant--the people
+make extravagant demands, and will not even give time to have them
+granted,--in a word, the whole state is subverted, the king, if there
+be one, in flight, the royal family missing, the ministers nowhere! No
+great loss you 'll say, if the four or five smooth-faced imbecilities
+we have spoken of are not to the fore! But there is your error,
+Harry,--your great error. These men, used to conduct and carry on
+the government, cannot be replaced. The new capacities do nothing but
+blunder, and maybe issue contradictory orders and impede each other's
+actions. To improvise a Secretary of State is about as wise a proceeding
+as to take at hazard a third-class passenger and set him to guide the
+engine of a train. The only difference is that the machinery of state
+is ten thousand times more complex than that of a steam-engine, and the
+powers for mischief and misfortune in due proportion.
+
+"But why talk of these things? I have had enough and too much of them
+already this evening; women, too, are unpleasant disputants in politics.
+They attach their faith to persons, not parties. Miss Henderson is,
+besides, a little spoiled by the notice of those maxim-mongers who write
+leaders in the 'Debats, and articles for the 'Deux Mondes.' They
+have, or affect to have, a kind of pitying estimate for our English
+constitutional forms, which is rather offensive. At least, she provoked
+me, and I am relapsing into bad temper, just by thinking of it.
+
+"You tell me that you once served with Captain Martin, and I see you
+understand him; not that it requires much study to do so. You say he was
+reckoned a good officer; what a sneer is that on the art military!
+
+"There are, however, many suitable qualities about him, and he certainly
+possesses the true and distinctive element of a gentleman,--he knows how
+to be idle. Ay, Harry, that is a privilege that your retired banker
+or enriched cotton-spinner never attains to. They must be up and
+doing,--where there is nothing to do. They carry the spirit of the
+counting-house and the loom into society with them, and having found
+a pleasure in business, they want to make a business of pleasure. Now,
+Martin understands idling to perfection. His tea and toast, his mutton
+cutlet, and his mustachios are abundant occupation for him. With
+luncheon about two o'clock, he saunters through the stables, sucking a
+lighted cigar, filing his nails, and admiring his boots, till it 's time
+to ride out. He comes to me about nine of an evening, and we play piquet
+till I get sleepy; after which he goes to 'the rooms,' and, I believe,
+plays high; at least, I suspect so; for he has, at times, the forced
+calm--that semi-jocular resignation--one sees in a heavy loser. He has
+been occasionally, too, probing me about Merl,--you remember the fellow
+who had the rooms near Knightsbridge,--so that I opine he has been
+dabbling in loans. What a sorry spectacle such a creature as this in the
+toils of the Israelite, for he is the 'softest of the soft.' I see it
+from the effect La Henderson has produced upon him. He is in love with
+her,--actually in love. He even wanted to make me his confidant--and I
+narrowly escaped the confession--only yesterday evening. Of course, he
+has no suspicion of my attachment in the same quarter, so that it would
+be downright treachery in me to listen to his avowal. Another feeling,
+too, sways me, Harry,--I don't think I could hear a man profess
+admiration for the woman that I mean to marry, without the self-same
+sense of resentment I should experience were I already her husband. I 'm
+certain I 'd shoot him for it.
+
+"La belle Kate and I parted coldly--dryly, I should call it--this
+evening. I had fancied she was above coquetry, but she is not. Is
+any woman? She certainly gave the Captain what the world would
+call encouragement all the night; listened attentively to tiresome
+tiger-huntings and stories of the new country; questioned him about his
+Mahratta campaigns, and even hinted at how much she would like an Indian
+life. Perhaps the torment she was inflicting on Lady Dorothea amused
+her; perhaps it was the irritation she witnessed in me gave the zest to
+this pastime. It is seldom that she condescends to be either amused or
+amusing; and I own it is a part does not suit her. She is a thousand
+times more attractive sitting over her embroidery-frame, raising
+her head at times to say a few words,--ever apposite and well
+chosen,--always simple, too, and to the purpose; or even by a slight
+gesture bearing agreement with what is said around her; till, with a
+sudden impulse, she pours forth fast, rapidly, and fluently some glowing
+sentiment of praise or censure, some glorious eulogy of the good, or
+some withering depreciation of the wrong. Then it is that you see
+how dark those eyes can be, how deep-toned that voice, and with what
+delicacy of expression she can mould and fashion every mood of mind, and
+give utterance to sentiments that till then none have ever known how to
+embody.
+
+"It is such a descent to her to play coquette! Cleopatra cannot--should
+not be an Abigail. I am low and depressed to-night; I scarcely know
+why: indeed, I have less reason than usual for heavy-heartedness. These
+people are singularly kind and attentive to me, and seem to have totally
+forgotten how ungratefully once before I repaid their civilities. What
+a stupid mistake do we commit in not separating our public life from our
+social one, so as to show that our opinions upon measures of state
+are disconnected with all the sentiments we maintain for our private
+friendships. I detect a hundred sympathies, inconceivable points of
+contact, between these people and myself. We pass hours praising the
+same things, and abusing the same people; and how could it possibly
+sever our relations that I would endow Maynooth when they would pull it
+down, or that I liked forty-shilling freeholders better than ten-pound
+householders? You 'll say that a certain earnestness accompanies strong
+convictions, and that when a man is deeply impressed with some supposed
+truths, he 'll not measure his reprobation of those who assail them.
+But a lawyer does all this, and forfeits nothing of the esteem of 'his
+learned brother on the opposite side.' Nay, they exchange very-ugly
+knocks at times, and inflict very unseemly marks even with the gloves
+on; still they go homeward, arm-in-arm, after, and laugh heartily at
+both plaintiff and defendant. By Jove! Harry, it may sound ill, but
+somehow it seems as though to secure even a moderate share of enjoyment
+in this life one must throne Expediency in the seat of Principle. I 'll
+add the conclusion to-morrow, and now say good-night.
+
+"Three days have passed over since I wrote the last time to you, and
+it would require as many weeks were I to chronicle all that has passed
+through my mind in the interval. Events there have been few; but
+sensations--emotions, enough for a lifetime. Nor dare I recall them!
+Faintly endeavoring to trace a few broken memories, my pains of mind and
+body come back again, so that you must bear with me if I be incoherent,
+almost unintelligible.
+
+"The day after I wrote to you, I never saw her. My Lady, who came as
+usual to visit me in the day, said something about Miss Henderson having
+a headache. Unpleasant letters from her family--obliged to give up
+the day to answering them; but all so confused and with such evident
+constraint as to show me that something disagreeable loomed in view.
+
+"The Captain dropped in about four o'clock, and as the weather was
+unfavorable, we sat down to our party of piquet. By a little address,
+I continued to lose nearly every game, and so gradually led him into a
+conversation while we played; but I soon saw that he only knew something
+had occurred 'upstairs,' but knew not what.
+
+"' I suspect, however,' added he, 'it is only the old question as to
+Kate's going away.' "'Going away! Going where?' cried I.
+
+"'Home to her father; she is resolutely bent upon it,--has been so ever
+since we left Paris. My mother, who evidently--but on what score I know
+not--had some serious difference with her, is now most eager to make
+concessions, and would stoop to--what for her is no trifle--even
+solicitation to induce her to stay, has utterly failed; so, too, has
+my father. Persuasion and entreaty not succeeding, I suspect--but it is
+only suspicion--that they have had recourse to parental authority,
+and asked old Henderson to interfere. At least, a letter has come this
+morning from the West of Ireland, for Kate, which I surmise to be in his
+hand. She gave it, immediately on reading it, to my mother, and I could
+detect in her Ladyship's face, while she perused it, unmistakable
+signs of satisfaction. When she handed it back, too, she gave a certain
+condescending smile, which, in my mother, implies victory, and seems
+to say, "Let us be friends now,--I 'm going to signal--cease firing."'
+
+"'And Kate, did she make any remark--say anything?' "'Not a syllable.
+She folded up the document, carefully and steadily, and placed it in
+her work-box, and then resumed her embroidery in silence. I watched her
+narrowly, while I affected to read the paper, and saw that she had to
+rip out half she had done. After a while my mother said,--"'"You 'll not
+answer that letter to-day, probably?"
+
+"'"I mean to do so, my Lady," said she; "and, with your permission, will
+beg you to read my reply."
+
+"'"Very well," said my mother, and left the room. I was standing outside
+on the balcony at the time, so that Kate believed, after my mother's
+departure, she was quite alone. It was then she opened the letter, and
+re-read it carefully. I never took my eyes off her; and yet what was
+passing in her mind, whether joy, grief, disappointment, or pleasure,
+I defy any man to declare; nor when, having laid it down once more, she
+took up her work, not a line or a lineament betrayed her. It was plain
+enough the letter was no pleasant one, and I expected to have heard her
+sigh perhaps, or at least show some sign of depression; but no, she
+went on calmly, and at last began to sing, in a low, faint voice, barely
+audible where I stood, one of her little barcarole songs she is so fond
+of; and if there was no sorrow in her own heart, by Jove! she made mine
+throb heavily as I listened! I stood it as long as I was able, and then
+coughed to show that I was there, and entered the room. She never lifted
+her head, or noticed me, not even when I drew a chair close to her, and
+sat down at her side.
+
+"'I suppose, Massingbred,' said he, after a pause, 'you 'll laugh at
+me, if I tell you I was in love with the Governess! Well, I should have
+laughed too, some six months ago, if any man had prophesied it; but
+the way I put the matter to myself is this: If I do succeed to a
+good estate, I have a right to indulge my own fancy in a wife; if I
+don't,--that is, if I be a ruined man,--where 's the harm in marrying
+beneath me?'
+
+"'Quite right, admirably argued,' said I, impatiently; 'go on.'
+
+"'I 'm glad you agree with me,' said he, with the stupid satisfaction of
+imbecility. 'I thought I had reduced the question to its very narrowest
+bounds.'
+
+"'So you have; go on,' cried I.
+
+"'"Miss Henderson," said I,--for I determined to show that I was
+speaking seriously, and so I did n't call her Kate,-- "Miss Henderson, I
+want to speak to you. I have been long seeking this opportunity; and if
+you will vouchsafe me a few minutes now, and hear me, on a subject upon
+which all my happiness in life depends--"
+
+"'When I got that far, she put her work down on her knee, and stared at
+me with those large, full eyes of hers so steadily--ay, so haughtily,
+too--that I half wished myself fifty miles away.
+
+"'"Captain Martin," said she, in a low, distinct voice, "has it ever
+occurred to you in life to have, by a mere moment of reflection, a
+sudden flash of intelligence, saved yourself from some step, some act,
+which, if accomplished, had brought nothing but outrage to your feeling,
+and insult to your self-esteem? Let such now rescue you from resuming
+this theme."
+
+"'"But you# don't understand me," said I. "What I wish to say--" Just at
+that instant my father came into the room in search of her, and I made
+my escape to hide the confusion that I felt ready to overwhelm me.'
+
+"'And have you not seen her since?'
+
+"'No. Indeed, I think it quite as well, too. She 'll have time to think
+over what I said, and see what a deuced good offer it is; for though I
+know she was going to make objections about inequality of station and
+all that at the time, reflection will bring better thoughts.'
+
+"'And she 'll consent, you think?'
+
+"'I wish I had a bet on it,' said he.
+
+"'So you shall, then,' said I, endeavoring to seem thoroughly at my
+ease. 'It's a very unworthy occasion for a wager, Martin; but I'll lay
+five hundred to one she refuses you.'
+
+"'Taken, and booked,' cried he, writing it down in his note-book. "I
+only regret it is not in thousands.'
+
+"'So it should be, if I could honestly stake what I have n't got.'
+
+"'You are so sanguine of winning? '
+
+"' So certain, you ought to say.'
+
+"' Of course you use no influence against me,--you take no step of any
+kind to affect her decision.'
+
+"'Certainly not.'
+
+"'Nor are you--But,' added he, laughing, 'I need n't make that proviso.
+I was going to say, you are not to ask her yourself.'
+
+"'I 'll even promise you that, if you like,' said I.
+
+"'Then what can you mean?' said he, with a puzzled look. 'But whatever
+it be, I can stand the loss. I 've won very close to double as much from
+you this evening.'
+
+"'And as to the disappointment?'
+
+"'Oh, _you_ 'll not mention it, I 'm certain, neither will she, so none
+will be the wiser; and, after all, the real bore in all these cases is
+the gossip.' And with this consolatory reflection he left me to dress
+for dinner. How well bred a fellow seems who has no feeling, but just
+tact enough to detect the tone of the world and follow it! That's
+Martin's case, and his manners are perfect! After he was gone, I
+was miserable for not having quarrelled with him,--said something
+outrageous, insolent, and unbearable. That he should have dared to
+insult the young girl by such presumption as the offer of _his_ hand
+is really too much. What difference of station--wide as the poles
+asunder--could compare with their real inequality? The fop, the idler,
+the incompetent, to aspire to _her!_ Even his very narrative proclaimed
+his mean nature, wandering on, as it did, from a lounge on the balcony
+to an offer of marriage!
+
+"Now, to conclude this wearisome story--and I fancy, Harry, that already
+you half deem me a fitting rival for the tiresome Captain,--but to
+finish, Martin came early into my room, and laying a bank-note for L100
+on the bed, merely added, 'You were right; there's your money.' I'd have
+given double the sum to hear the details of this affair,--in what terms
+the refusal was conveyed,--on what grounds she based it; but he would
+not afford me the slightest satisfaction on any of these points. Indeed,
+he displayed more vigor of character than I suspected in him, in the way
+he arrested my inquiries. He left this for Paris immediately after, so
+that the mystery of that interview will doubtless remain impenetrable to
+me.
+
+"We are all at sixes and sevens to-day. Old Martin, shocked by some
+tidings of Ireland that he chanced upon in the public papers, I believe,
+has had a stroke of paralysis, or a seizure resembling that malady.
+Lady Dorothea is quite helpless from terror, and but for Kate, the whole
+household would be in utter chaos and disorganization; but she goes
+about, with her arm in a sling, calm and tranquil, but with the energy
+and activity of one who feels that all depends upon her guidance and
+direction. The servants obey her with a promptitude that proclaims
+instinct; and even the doctor lays aside the mysterious jargon of
+his craft, and condescends to talk sense to her. I have not seen her;
+passing rumors only reach me in my solitude, and I sit here writing and
+brooding alternately.
+
+"P. S. Martin is a little better; no immediate danger to life, but
+slight hopes of ultimate recovery. I was wrong as to the cause. It was a
+proclamation of outlawry against his son, the Captain, which he read in
+the 'Times.' Some implacable creditor or other had pushed his claim so
+far, as I believe is easy enough to do nowadays; and poor Martin, who
+connected this stigma with all the disgrace that once accompanied such a
+sentence, fell senseless to the ground, and was taken up palsied. He is
+perfectly collected and even tranquil now, and they wheeled me in to sit
+with him for an hour or so. Lady Dorothea behaves admirably; the first
+shock overwhelmed her, but that passed off, and she is now all that
+could be imagined of tenderness and zeal.
+
+"Kate I saw but for a second. She asked me to write to Captain Martin,
+and request him to hasten home. It was no time to trifle with her; so I
+simply promised to do so, adding,--"'_You,_ I trust, will not leave this
+at such a moment?'
+
+"'Assuredly not,' said she, slightly coloring at what implied my
+knowledge of her plans.
+
+"'Then all will go on well in that case,' said I.
+
+"'I never knew that I was reckoned what people call lucky,' said she,
+smiling. 'Indeed, most of those with whom I have been associated in life
+might say the opposite.' And then, without waiting to hear me, she left
+the room.
+
+"My brain is throbbing and my cheeks burning; some feverish access is
+upon me. So I send off this ere I grow worse.
+
+"Your faithful friend,
+
+"Jack Massingbred."
+
+
+
+CHAPTER X. HOW ROGUES AGREE!
+
+Leaving the Martins in their quiet retreat at Spa, nor dwelling any
+longer on a life whose daily monotony was unbroken by an incident,
+we once more turn our glance westward. Were we assured that our kind
+readers' sympathies were with us, the change would be a pleasure to us,
+since it is there, in that wild mountain tract, that pathless region of
+fern and wild furze, that we love to linger, rambling half listlessly
+through silent glens and shady gorges, or sitting pensively on the
+storm-lashed shore, till sea and sky melt into one, and naught lowers
+through the gloom save the tall crags above us.
+
+We are once more back again at the little watering-place of Kilkieran,
+to which we introduced our readers in an early chapter of this
+narrative; but another change has come over that humble locality.
+The Osprey's Nest, the ornamented villa, on which her Ladyship had
+squandered so lavishly good money and bad taste, was now an inn! A
+vulgar sign-board, representing a small boat in a heavy sea, hung over
+the door, with the words "The Corragh" written underneath. The spacious
+saloon, whose bay-windows opened on the Atlantic, was now a coffee-room,
+and the small boudoir that adjoined it--desecration of desecrations--the
+bar!
+
+It needs not to have been the friend or favored guest beneath a roof
+where elegance and refinement have prevailed to feel the shock at
+seeing them replaced by all that ministers to coarse pleasure and
+vulgar association. The merest stranger cannot but experience a sense of
+disgust at the contrast. Whichever way you turned, some object met the
+eye recalling past splendor and present degradation; indeed, Toby Shea,
+the landlord, seemed to feel as one of his brightest prerogatives the
+right of insulting the memory of his predecessors, and throwing into
+stronger antithesis the "former" and the "now."
+
+"Here ye are now, sir, in my Lady's own parlor; and that's her bedroom,
+where I left your trunk," said he, as he ushered in a newly arrived
+traveller, whose wet and road-stained drapery bore traces of an Irish
+winter's day. "Mr. Scanlan told me that your honor would be here at four
+o'clock, and he ordered dinner for two, at five, and a good dinner you
+'ll have."
+
+"There; let them open my traps, and fetch me a pair of slippers and a
+dressing-gown," broke in the traveller; "and be sure to have a good fire
+in my bedroom. What an infernal climate! It has rained since the day
+I landed at Dublin; and now that I have come down here, it has blown a
+hurricane besides. And how cold this room is!" added he, shuddering.
+
+"That's all by reason of them windows," said Toby,--"French windows they
+call them; but I'll get real Irish sashes put up next season, if I live.
+It was a fancy of that ould woman that built the place to have nothing
+that was n't foreign."
+
+"They are not popular, then,--the Martins?" asked the stranger.
+
+"Popular!" echoed Toby. "Begorra, they are not. Why would they be? Is it
+rack-renting, process sarving, extirminating, would make them popular?
+Sure we're all ruined on the estate. There isn't a mother's son of
+us might n't be in jail; and it's not Maurice's fault, either,--Mr.
+Scanlan's, I mean. Your honor's a friend of his, I believe," added he,
+stealthily. The stranger gave a short nod. "Sure he only does what he's
+ordered; and it's breaking his heart it is to do them cruel things they
+force him to."
+
+"Was the management of the estate better when they lived at home?" asked
+the stranger.
+
+"Some say yes, more says no. I never was their tenant myself, for I
+lived in Oughterard, and kept the 'Goose and Griddle' in John Street;
+but I believe, if the truth was told, it was always pretty much the
+same. They were azy and moderate when they did n't want money, but ready
+to take your skin off your back when they were hard up."
+
+"And is that their present condition?"
+
+"I think it is," said he, with a confident grin. "They 're spending
+thousands for hundreds since they went abroad; and that chap in the
+dragoons--the Captain they call him--sells a farm, or a plot of ground,
+just the way ye 'd tear a leaf out of a book. There 's Mr. Maurice
+now,--and I 'll go and hurry the dinner, for he 'll give us no peace if
+we 're a minute late."
+
+The stranger--or, to give him his proper name, Mr. Merl--now approached
+the window, and watched, not without admiration, the skilful management
+by which Scanlan skimmed along the strand, zigzagging his smart nag
+through all the awkward impediments of the way, and wending his tandem
+through what appeared a labyrinth of confusion.
+
+Men bred and born in great cities are somewhat prone to fancy that
+certain accomplishments, such as tandem-driving, steeple-chasing, and
+such like, are the exclusive acquirements of rank and station. They have
+only witnessed them as the gifts of guardsmen and "young squires of high
+degree," never suspecting that in the country a very inferior class
+is often endowed with these skilful arts. Mr. Merl felt, therefore, no
+ordinary reverence for Maurice Scanlan, a sentiment fully reciprocated
+by the attorney, as he beheld the gorgeous dressing-gown, rich tasselled
+cap, and Turkish trousers of the other.
+
+"I thought I'd arrive before you, sir," said Scanlan, with a profound
+bow, as he entered the room; "but I'm glad you got in first. What a
+shower that was!"
+
+"Shower!" said Merl; "a West India hurricane is a zephyr to it. I 'd not
+live in this climate if you 'd give me the whole Martin estate!"
+
+"I 'm sure of it, sir; one must be bred in the place, and know no
+better, to stand it." And although the speech was uttered in all
+humility, Merl gave the speaker a searching glance, as though to say,
+"Don't lose your time trying to humbug me; I'm 'York,' too." Indeed,
+there was species of freemasonry in the looks that now passed between
+the two; each seemed instinctively to feel that he was in the presence
+of an equal, and that artifice and deceit might be laid aside for the
+nonce.
+
+"I hope you agree with me," said Scanlan, in a lower and more
+confidential voice, "that this was the best place to come to. Here you
+can stay as long as you like, and nobody the wiser; but in the town
+of Oughterard they'd be at you morning, noon, and night, tracking your
+steps, questioning the waiter, ay, and maybe taking a peep at your
+letters. I 've known that same before now."
+
+"Well, I suppose you 're right; only this place does look a little dull,
+I confess."
+
+"It's not the season, to be sure," said Scanlan, apologetically.
+
+"Oh! and there is a season here?"
+
+"Isn't there, by George!" said Maurice, smacking his lips. "I 've seen
+two heifers killed here of a morning, and not so much as a beefsteak
+to be got before twelve o'clock. 'T is the height of fashion comes down
+here in July,--the Rams of Kiltimmon, and the Bodkins of Crossmaglin;
+and there was talk last year of a lord,--I forget his name; but he ran
+away from Newmarket, and the story went that he was making for this."
+
+"Any play?" asked Merl.
+
+"Play is it? That there is; whist every night, and backgammon."
+
+Merl threw up his eyebrows with pretty much the same feeling with which
+the Great Napoleon repeated the words "Bows and Arrows!" as the weapons
+of a force that offered him alliance.
+
+"If you'd allow me to dine in this trim, Mr. Scanlan," said he, "I'd ask
+you to order dinner."
+
+"I was only waiting for you to give the word, sir," said Maurice,
+reverting to the habit of respect at any fresh display of the other's
+pretensions; and opening the door, he gave a shrill whistle.
+
+The landlord himself answered the summons, and whispered a few words in
+Scanlan's ear.
+
+"That's it, always," cried Maurice, angrily. "I never came into the
+house for the last ten days without hearing the same story. I 'd like to
+know who and what he is, that must always have the best that 's going?"
+Then turning to Merl, he added: "It's a lodger he has upstairs; an old
+fellow that came about a fortnight back; and if there's a fine fish or a
+fat turkey or a good saddle of mutton to be got, he 'll have it."
+
+"Faix, he pays well," said Toby, "whoever he is."
+
+"And he has secured our salmon, I find, and left us to dine on whiting,"
+said Maurice.
+
+"An eighteen-pound fish!" echoed Toby; "and it would be as much as my
+life is worth to cut it in two."
+
+"And he's alone, too?"
+
+"No, sir. Mr. Crow, the painter, is to dine with him. He's making
+drawings for him of all the wonderful places down the coast."
+
+"Well, give us what we 're to have at once," said Maurice, angrily. "The
+basket of wine was taken out of the gig?"
+
+"Yes, sir; all right and ready for you; and barrin' the fish you 'll
+have an elegant dinner."
+
+This little annoyance over, the guests relished their fare like hungry
+men; nor, time and place considered, was it to be despised.
+
+"Digestion is a great leveller." Mr. Merl and Mr. Scan-Ian felt far more
+on an equality when, the dinner over and the door closed, they drew
+the table close to the fire, and drank to each other in a glass of racy
+port.
+
+"Well, I believe a man might live here, after all," said Merl, as he
+gazed admiringly on the bright hues of his variegated lower garments.
+
+"I 'm proud to hear you say so," said Scanlan; "for, of course, you've
+seen a deal of life; and when I say life, I mean fashion and high
+style,--nobs and swells."
+
+"Yes; I believe I have," said Merl, lighting his cigar; "that was always
+my 'line.' I fancy there's few fellows going have more experience of the
+really great world than Herman Merl."
+
+"And you like it?" asked Maurice, confidentially.
+
+"I do, and I do not," said the Jew, hesitatingly. "To one like myself,
+who knows them all, always on terms of close intimacy,--friendship, I
+may say,--it 's all very well; but take a new hand just launched into
+life, a fellow not of their own set,--why, sir, there 's no name for the
+insults and outrage he'll meet with."
+
+"But what could they do?" asked Scanlan, inquiringly.
+
+"What?--anything, everything; laugh at him, live on him, win his last
+guinea,--and then, blackball him!"
+
+"And could n't he get a crack at them?"
+
+"A what?"
+
+"Couldn't he have a shot at some of them, at least?" asked Maurice.
+
+"No, no," said Mr. Merl, half contemptuously; "they don't do _that_."
+
+"Faix! and we 'd do it down here," said Scanlan, "devil may care who or
+what he was that tried the game."
+
+"But I 'm speaking of London and Paris; I 'm not alluding to the
+Sandwich Islands," said Merl, on whose brain the port and the strong
+fire were already producing their effects.
+
+Scanlan's face flushed angrily; but a glance at the other checked the
+reply he was about to make, and he merely pushed the decanter across the
+table.
+
+"You see, sir," said Merl, in the tone of a man laying down a great
+dictum, "there 's worlds and worlds. There's Claude Willoughby's world,
+which is young Martin's and Stanhope's and mine. There, we are all young
+fellows of fortune, good family, good prospects, you understand,--no,
+thank you, no more wine;--I feel that what I 've taken has got into my
+head; and this cigar, too, is none of the best. Would it be taking too
+great a liberty with you if I were to snatch a ten minutes' doze,--just
+ten minutes?"
+
+"Treat me like an old friend; make yourself quite at home," said
+Maurice. "There 's enough here"--and he pointed to the bottles on the
+table--"to keep me company; and I 'll wake you up when I 've finished
+them."
+
+Mr. Merl made no reply; but drawing a chair for his legs, and disposing
+his drapery gracefully around him, he closed his eyes, and before
+Maurice had replenished his glass, gave audible evidence of a sound
+sleep.
+
+Now, worthy reader, we practise no deceptions with you; nor so far as
+we are able, do we allow others to do so. It is but fair, therefore, to
+tell you that Mr. Merl was not asleep, nor had he any tendency whatever
+to slumber about him. That astute gentleman, however, had detected that
+the port was, with the addition of a great fire, too much for him; he
+recognized in himself certain indications of confusion that implied
+wandering and uncertain faculties, and he resolved to arrest the
+progress of such symptoms by a little repose. He felt, in short, that if
+he had been engaged in play, that he should have at once "cut out," and
+so he resolved to give himself the advantage of the prerogative
+which attaches to a tired traveller. There he lay, then, with closed
+eyes,--breathing heavily,--to all appearance sound asleep.
+
+Maurice Scanlan, meanwhile, scanned the recumbent figure before him with
+the eye of a connoisseur. We have once before said that Mr. Scanlan's
+jockey experiences had marvellously aided his worldly craft, and that
+he scrutinized those with whom he came in contact through life, with all
+the shrewd acumen he would have bestowed upon a horse whose purchase he
+meditated. It was easy to see that the investigation puzzled him. Mr.
+Merl did not belong to any one category he had ever seen before. Maurice
+was acquainted with various ranks and conditions of men; but here was a
+new order, not referable to any known class. He opened Captain Martin's
+letter, which he carried in his pocket-book, and re-read it; but it
+was vague and uninstructive. He merely requested that "every attention
+might be paid to his friend Mr. Merl, who wanted to see something of
+the West, and know all about the condition of the people, and such like.
+He's up to everything, Master Maurice," continued the writer, "and
+so just the man for _you_." There was little to be gleaned from this
+source, and so he felt, as he folded and replaced the epistle in his
+pocket.
+
+"What can he be," thought Scanlan, "and what brings him down here? Is he
+a member of Parliament, that wants to make himself up about Ireland and
+Irish grievances? Is he a money-lender, that wants to see the security
+before he makes a loan? Are they thinking of him for the agency?"--and
+Maurice flushed as the suspicion crossed him,--"or is it after Miss Mary
+he is?" And a sudden paleness covered his face at the thought. "I 'd
+give a cool hundred, this minute, if I could read you," said he to
+himself, "Ay, and I'd not ask any one's help how to deal with us
+afterwards," added he, as he drained off his glass. While he was thus
+ruminating, a gentle tap was heard at the door, and, anxious not to
+disturb the sleeper, Scanlan crossed the room with noiseless steps, and
+opened it.
+
+[Illustration: 124]
+
+"Oh, it's you, Simmy," said he, in a low voice. "Come in, and make no
+noise; he's asleep."
+
+"And that's him!" said Crow, standing still to gaze on the recumbent
+figure before him, which he scrutinized with all an artist's
+appreciation.
+
+"Ay, and what do you think of him?" whispered Scanlan.
+
+"That chap is a Jew," said Sim, in the same cautious tone. "I know
+the features well; you see the very image of him in the old Venetian
+pictures. Whenever they wanted cunning and cruelty--but more cunning
+than cruelty--they always took that type."
+
+"I would n't wonder if you were right, Simmy," said Scanlan, on whom a
+new light was breaking.
+
+"I know I am; look at the spread of the nostrils, and the thick, full
+lips, and the coarse, projecting under-jaw. Faix!" said he to himself,
+"I 've seen the day I 'd like to have had a study of your face."
+
+"Indeed!" said Scanlan.
+
+"Just so; he'd make a great Judas!" said Crow, enthusiastically. "It
+is the miser all over. You know," added he, "if one took him in the
+historical way, you 'd get rid of the vulgarity, and make him grander
+and finer; for, looking at him now, he might be a dog-stealer."
+
+Scanlan gave a low, cautious laugh as he placed a chair beside his own
+for the artist, and filled out for him a bumper of port.
+
+"I was just dying for a glass of this," said Crow. "I dined with Mr.
+Barry upstairs; and though he's a fine-hearted old fellow in many
+respects, he's too abstemious; a pint of sherry for two at dinner, and a
+pint of port after, that's the allowance. Throw out as many hints as you
+like, suggest how and what you will, but devil a drop more you'll get."
+
+"And who is he?" asked Scanlan.
+
+"I wish you could tell me," said Crow.
+
+"You haven't a notion; nor what he is?"
+
+"Not the slightest. I think, indeed, he said he was in the army; but
+I'm not clear it wasn't a commissary or a surgeon; maybe he was, but
+he knows a little about everything. Take him on naval matters, and he
+understands them well; ask him about foreign countries,--egad, he was
+everywhere. Ireland seems the only place new to him, and it won't be
+so long; for he goes among the people, and talks to them, and hears
+all they have to say, with a patience that breaks my heart. Like all
+strangers, he's astonished with the acuteness he meets with, and never
+ceases saying, 'Ain't they a wonderful people? Who ever saw their equal
+for intelligence?'"
+
+"Bother!" said Scanlan, contemptuously.
+
+"But it is not bother! Maurice; he's right. They are just what he says."
+
+"Arrah! don't be humbugging _me_, Mr. Crow," said the other. "They 're
+a set of scheming, plotting vagabonds, that are unmanageable by any one,
+except a fellow that has the key to them as I have."
+
+"_You_ know them, that's true," said Crow, half apologetically, for he
+liked the port, and did not feel he ought to push contradiction too far.
+
+"And that's more than your friend Barry does, or ever will," said
+Scanlan. "I defy an Englishman--I don't care how shrewd he is--to
+understand Paddy."
+
+A slight movement on Mr. Merl's part here admonished the speaker to
+speak lower.
+
+"Ay," continued Maurice, "that fellow there--whoever he is or whatever
+he is--is no fool! he 's deep enough; and yet there 's not a bare-legged
+gossoon on the estate I won't back to take him in."
+
+"But Barry's another kind of man entirely. You wouldn't call him cute or
+cunning; but he's a sensible, well-judging man, that has seen a deal of
+life."
+
+"And what is it, he says, brings him here?" asked Scanlan.
+
+"He never said a word about that yet," replied Crow, "further than his
+desire to visit a country he had heard much of, and, if I understand him
+aright, where some of his ancestors came from; for, you see, at times
+he's not so easy for one to follow, for he has a kind of a foreign twang
+in his tongue, and often mumbles to himself in a strange language."
+
+"I mistrust all these fellows that go about the world, pretending they
+want to see this and observe that," said Scanlan, sententiously.
+
+"It's mighty hard to mistrust a man that gives you the likes of that,"
+said Crow, as he drew a neatly folded banknote from his pocket, and
+handed it to Scanlan. "Twenty pounds! And he gave you that?" "This very
+evening. 'It is a little more than our bargain, Mr. Crow,' said he, 'but
+not more than I can afford to give; and so I hope you 'll not refuse
+it.' These were his words, as he took my lot of drawings--poor daubs
+they were--and placed them in his portfolio."
+
+"So that he is rich?" said Maurice, pensively, "There seems no end of
+his money; there's not a day goes over he does n't spend fifteen or
+sixteen pounds in meat, potatoes, barley, and the like. Sure, you may
+say he 's been feeding the two islands himself for the last fortnight;
+and what's more, one must n't as much as allude to it. He gets angry at
+the slightest word that can bring the subject forward. It was the other
+day he said to myself, 'If you can relieve destitution without too much
+parade of its sufferings, you are not only obviating the vulgar display
+of rich benevolence, but you are inculcating high sentiments and
+delicacy of feeling in those that are relieved. Take care how you
+pauperize the heart of a people, for you 'll have to make a workhouse of
+the nation.'"
+
+"Sure, they're paupers already!" exclaimed Scanlan, contemptuously.
+"When I hear all these elegant sentiments uttered about Ireland, I know
+a man is an ass! This is a poor country,--the people is poor, the gentry
+is poor, the climate is n't the best, and bad as it is, you 're never
+sure of it. All that anybody can hope to do is to make his living out
+of it; but as to improving it,--raising the intellectual standard of the
+people, and all that balderdash we hear of,--you might just as well tell
+me that there was an Act of Parliament to make everybody in Connaught
+six feet high. Nature says one thing, and it signifies mighty little if
+the House of Commons says the other."
+
+"And you 're telling me this in the very spot that contradicts every
+word you say!" cried Crow, half angrily; for the port had given him
+courage, and the decanter waxed low.
+
+"How so?" exclaimed Scanlan.
+
+"Here, where we sit--on this very estate of Cro' Martin--where a young
+girl--a child the other day--has done more to raise the condition of
+the people, to educate and civilize, than the last six generations
+together."
+
+A long wailing whistle from Scanlan was the insulting reply to the
+assertion.
+
+"What do you mean by that?" cried Crow, passionately.
+
+"I mean that she has done more mischief to the property than
+five-and-forty years' good management will ever repair, Now don't be
+angry, Simmy; keep your temper, and draw your chair back again to the
+table. I 'm not going to say one word against her intentions; but when
+I see the waste of thousands of pounds on useless improvements, elegant
+roads that lead nowhere, bridges that nobody will ever pass, and harbors
+without boats, not to say the habits of dependence the people have got
+by finding everything done for them. I tell you again, ten years more of
+Miss Mary's rule will finish the estate."
+
+[Illustration: 130]
+
+"I don't believe a word of it!" blurted out Simmy, boldly. "I saw her
+yesterday coming out of a cabin, where she passed above an hour, nursing
+typhus fever and cholera. The cloak she took off the door--for she left
+it there to dry--was still soaked with rain; her wet hair hung down her
+shoulders, and as she stood bridling her own pony,--for there was not a
+living soul to help her--"
+
+"She 'd have made an elegant picture," broke in Scanlan, with a laugh.
+"But that's exactly the fault of us in Ireland,--we are all picturesque;
+I wish we were prosperous! But come, Simmy, finish your wine; it's not
+worth disputing about. If all I hear about matters be true, there will
+be very little left of Cro' Martin when the debts are paid."
+
+"What! do you mean to say that they 're in difficulty?"
+
+"Far worse; the stories that reach me call it--ruin!"
+
+Simmy drew his chair closer to the table, and in a whisper scarcely
+breathed, said, "That chap's not asleep, Maurice."
+
+"I know it," whispered the other; and added, aloud, "Many a fellow that
+thinks he has the first charge on the property will soon discover his
+mistake; there are mortgages of more than eighty years' standing on the
+estate. You've had a great sleep, sir," said he, addressing Merl, who
+now yawned and opened his eyes; "I hope our talking did n't disturb
+you?"
+
+"Not in the least," said Merl, rising and stretching his legs. "I'm all
+right now, and quite fresh for anything."
+
+"Let me introduce Mr. Crow to you, sir,--a native artist that we 're all
+proud of."
+
+"That's exactly what you are not then," said Crow; "nor would you be if
+I deserved it. You 'd rather gain a cause at the Quarter Sessions, or
+take in a friend about a horse, than be the man that painted the Madonna
+at Florence."
+
+"He's cross this evening,--cross and ill-humored," said Scanlan,
+laughing. "Maybe he 'll be better tempered when we have tea."
+
+"I was just going to ask for it," said Merl, as he arranged his
+whiskers, and performed a small impromptu toilet before the glass, while
+Simmy issued forth to give the necessary orders.
+
+"We 'll have tea, and a rubber of dummy afterwards," said Scanlan, "if
+you've no objection."
+
+"Whatever you like,--I 'm quite at your disposal," replied Merl, who now
+seated himself with an air of bland amiability, ready, according to the
+amount of the stake, to win pounds or lose sixpences.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XI. MR. MERL "AT FENCE"
+
+All the projects which Mr. Scanlan had struck out for Merl's occupation
+on the following day were marred by the unfavorable weather. It blew
+fiercely from the westward, driving upon shore a tremendous sea, and
+sending white masses of drift and foam far inland. The rain, too, came
+down in torrents. The low-lying clouds, which scarcely reached more than
+half-way up the mountain sides, seemed as if rent asunder at times,
+and from them came a deluge, filling all the watercourses, and swelling
+rivulets to the size of mighty torrents. The unceasing roll of thunder,
+now near, now rumbling along in distant volleys, swelled the wild
+uproar, and helped to make up a scene of grand but desolate meaning.
+
+What could well be drearier than that little line of cabins that formed
+the village of Kilkieran, as with strongly barricaded doors, and
+with roofs secured by ropes and spars, they stood exposed to the full
+violence of the wild Atlantic! Not a man, not a living thing was to be
+seen. The fishermen were all within doors, cowering in gloomy indolence
+over the scanty turf fires, and brooding darkly on the coming winter.
+
+With a thorough conviction of all the dreariness of this scene, Mr.
+Merl stood at the window and looked out. He had been all his life too
+actively engaged in his pursuits of one kind or other to know much about
+what is called "being bored." Let rain fall ever so heavily, a cab could
+take him down to "'Change,"--the worst weather never marred a sale of
+stock, and Consols could rise even while the mercury was falling. The
+business-life of a great city seems to care little for weather, and
+possibly they whose intent faculties are bent on gain, scarcely remember
+whether the sun shines upon their labors.
+
+Merl felt differently now; the scene before him was wilder and gloomier
+than anything he had ever beheld. Beyond and behind the village steep
+mountains rose on every side, of barren and rugged surface,--not a
+vestige of any culture to be seen; while on the road, which led along a
+narrow gorge, nothing moved. All was dreary and deserted.
+
+"I suppose you'll keep the roof over you to-day, Mr. Merl?" said
+Scanlan, as he entered the room, buttoned up to the chin in a coarse
+frieze coat, while his head was protected by a genuine "sou'-wester" of
+oilskin.
+
+"And are _you_ going out in such weather?" asked Merl.
+
+"'Needs must,' sir, as the proverb says. I have to be at the assizes
+at Oughterard this morning, to prosecute some scoundrels for cutting
+brambles in the wood; and I want to serve notices on a townland about
+eight miles from this; and then I 'll have to go round by Cro' Martin
+and see Miss Mary. That's not the worst of it," added he, with an
+impudent leer, "for she's a fine girl, and has the prettiest eyes in the
+kingdom."
+
+"I have a letter for her," said Merl,--"a letter of introduction from
+Captain Martin. I suppose I might as well send it by you, and ask if I
+might pay my respects to-morrow or next day?"
+
+"To be sure; I'll take it with pleasure. You'll like her when you see
+her. She's not a bit like the rest: no pride, no stand-off,--that
+is, when she takes a fancy; but she is full of life and courage for
+anything."
+
+"Ah, yes,--the Captain said we should get on very well together,"
+drawled out Merl.
+
+"Did he, though!" cried Scanlan, eagerly. Then as suddenly checking
+his anxiety, he added: "But what does _he_ know about Miss Mary? Surely
+they're as good as strangers to each other. And for the matter of that,
+even when he was here, they did n't take to each other,--she was always
+laughing at the way he rode."
+
+"Wasn't he in the dragoons?" asked Merl, in a half-rebutting tone.
+
+"So he was; but what does that signify? Sure it's not a cavalry seat,
+with your head down and your elbows squared, will teach you to cross
+country,--at least, with Mary Martin beside you. You'll see her one of
+these day yourself, Mr. Merl. May I never, if you don't see her now!"
+cried Scanlan, suddenly, as he pointed to the road along which a horse
+was seen coming at speed, the rider breasting the storm fearlessly, and
+only crouching to the saddle as the gusts swept past. "What in the name
+of all that's wonderful brings her here?" cried Maurice. "She wasn't
+down at Kilkieran for four months."
+
+"She'll stop at this inn here, I suppose?" said Merl who was already
+performing an imaginary toilet for her visit.
+
+"You may take your oath she'll not!" said Scanlan half roughly; "she
+'d not cross the threshold of it! She 's going to some cabin or other.
+There she goes,--is n't that riding?" cried he, in animation. "Did you
+ever see a horse held neater? And see how she picks the road for him!
+Easy as she's sitting, she 'd take a four-foot wall this minute, without
+stirring in her saddle."
+
+"She hasn't got a nice day for pleasuring!" said the Jew, with a vulgar
+cackle.
+
+"If ye call it pleasure," rejoined Scanlan, "what she's after; but I
+suspect there's somebody sick down at the end of the village. There, I
+'m right; she's pulling up at Mat Landy's,--I wonder if it's old Mat is
+bad."
+
+"You know him?" asked Merl.
+
+"To be sure I do. He 's known down the coast for forty miles. He
+saved more men from shipwreck himself than everybody in the barony put
+together; but his heart is all but broke about a granddaughter that ran
+away. Sure enough, she's going in there."
+
+"Did you see Miss Mary?" cried Crow, entering suddenly. "She's just gone
+down the beach. They say there's a case now down there."
+
+"A case--of what?" said Merl.
+
+"Cholera or typhus, as it may be," said Crow, not a little surprised at
+the unmistakable terror of the other's face.
+
+"And she's gone to see it!" exclaimed the Jew.
+
+"To do more than see it. She 'll nurse the sick man, and bring him
+medicine and whatever he wants."
+
+"And not afraid?"
+
+"Afraid!" broke in Crow. "I'd like to know what she's afraid of. Ask Mr.
+Scanlan what would frighten her." But Mr. Scanlan had already slipped
+noiselessly from the room, and was already on his way down the shore.
+
+"Well," said Merl, lighting his cigar, and drawing an arm-chair close
+to the fire, "I don't see the advantage of all that. She could send
+the doctor, I suppose, and make her servants take down to these people
+whatever she wanted to send them. What especial utility there is in
+going herself, I can't perceive."
+
+"I'll tell you, then," said Crow. "It's more likely the doctor is busy
+this minute, ten or fifteen miles away,--for the whole country is down
+in sickness; but even if he was n't, if it were not for her courage in
+going everywhere, braving danger and death every hour, there would be
+a general flight of all that could escape. They'd rush into the
+towns,--where already there's more sickness than they know how to deal
+with. She encourages some,--she shames more; and not a few are proud
+to be brave in such company, for she is an angel,--that's her name,--an
+angel."
+
+"Well, I should like to see her," drawled out Merl, as he smoothed down
+his scrubby mustachios.
+
+"Nothing easier, then," rejoined Crow. "Put on your coat and hat, and we
+'ll stroll down the beach till she comes out; it can't be very long, for
+she has enough on her hands elsewhere."
+
+The proposition of a "stroll" in such weather was very little to Mr.
+Merl's taste; but his curiosity was stronger than even his fear of a
+drenching, and having muffled and shawled himself as if for an Arctic
+winter, they set out together from the inn.
+
+"And you tell me," said he, "that the Martins used to live
+here,--actually pass their lives in this atrocious climate?"
+
+"That they did,--and the worst mistake they ever made was to leave it,"
+said Crow.
+
+"I confess you puzzle me," said Merl.
+
+"Very possibly I do, sir," was the calm reply; "but you'd have
+understood me at once had you known this country while they resided at
+Cro' Martin. It was n't only that the superfluities of their wealth ran
+over, and filled the cup of the poor man, but there was a sense of hope
+cherished, by seeing that however hard the times, however adverse the
+season, there was always 'his Honor,' as they called Mr. Martin, whom
+they could appeal to for aid or for lenient treatment."
+
+"Very strange, very odd, all this," said Merl, musing. "But all that I
+hear of Ireland represents the people as if in a continual struggle for
+mere existence, and actually in a daily state of dependence on the will
+of somebody above them."
+
+"And if that same condition were never to be exaggerated into downright
+want, or pushed to an actual slavery, we could be very happy with it,"
+said Crow, "and not thank you, or any other Englishman that came here,
+to disturb it."
+
+"I assure you I have no ambition to indulge in any such interference,"
+said Merl, with a half-contemptuous laugh.
+
+"And so you're not thinking of settling in Ireland?" asked Crow, in some
+surprise.
+
+"Never dreamed of it!"
+
+"Well, the story goes that you wanted to buy an estate, and came down to
+have a look at this property here."
+
+"I'd not live on it if Martin were to make me a present of it
+to-morrow."
+
+"I don't think he will," said Crow, gravely. "I am afraid he could n't,
+if he wished it."
+
+"What, do you mean on account of the entail?" asked Merl.
+
+"Not exactly." He paused, and after some silence said, "If the truth
+were told, there's a great deal of debt on this property,--more than any
+one suspects."
+
+"The Captain's encumbrances?" asked Merl, eagerly.
+
+"His grandfather's and his great-grandfather's! As for the present man,
+they say that he's tied up some way not to sell, except for the sake of
+redeeming some of the mortgages. But who knows what is true and what is
+false about all this?"
+
+Merl was silent; grave fears were crossing his mind how far his claims
+were valid; and terrible misgivings shot across him lest the Captain
+might have been paying him with valueless securities.
+
+"I gather from what you say," said he, at last, "that it would be rather
+difficult to make out a title for any purchaser of this estate."
+
+"Don't be afraid of that, sir. They'll make you out a fair title."
+
+"I tell you again, I'd not take it as a present," said Merl, half
+angrily.
+
+"I see," said Crow, nodding his head sententiously. And then fixing his
+eyes steadily on him, he said, "You are a mortgagee."
+
+Merl reddened,--partly anger, partly shame. Indeed, the feeling that
+such a capacity as Mr. Crow's should have pushed him hard, was anything
+but complimentary to his self-esteem.
+
+"I don't want to pry into any man's affairs," said Crow, easily. "Heaven
+knows it's mighty little matter to Simmy Crow who lives in the big house
+there. I 'd rather, if I had my choice, be able to walk the wood with my
+sketch-book and brushes than be the richest man that ever was heartsore
+with the cares of wealth."
+
+"And if a friend--a sincere, well-wishing friend--were to bind himself
+that you should enjoy this same happiness you speak of, Mr. Crow, what
+would you do in return?"
+
+"Anything he asked me,--anything, at least, that a fair man could ask,
+and an honest one could do."
+
+"There's my hand on it, then," said Merl. "It's a bargain."
+
+"Ay, but let us hear the conditions," said Crow. "What could I possibly
+serve you in, that would be worth this price?"
+
+"Simply this: that you'll answer all my inquiries, so far as you know
+about this estate; and where your knowledge fails, that you'll endeavor
+to obtain the information for me."
+
+"Maybe I could tell you nothing at all--or next to nothing," said Crow.
+"Just ask me, now, what's the kind of question you 'd put; for, to tell
+truth, I 'm not over bright or clever,--the best of me is when I've a
+canvas before me."
+
+Merl peered stealthily at the speaker over the great folds of the shawl
+that enveloped his throat; he was not without his misgivings that the
+artist was a "deep fellow," assuming a manner of simplicity to draw him
+into a confidence. "And yet," he thought, "had he really been shrewd
+and cunning, he 'd never have blurted out his suspicion as to my being
+a mortgagee. Besides," said he to himself, "there, and with that fact,
+must end all his knowledge of me." "You can dine with me to-day, Mr.
+Crow, can't you?"
+
+"I 'm engaged to the stranger in No. 4,--the man I'm making the drawings
+for."
+
+"But you could get off. You could ask him to excuse you by saying that
+something of importance required you elsewhere?"
+
+"And dine in the room underneath?" asked Crow, with a comical look of
+distress at this suggestion.
+
+"Well, let us go somewhere else. Is there no other inn in the
+neighborhood?"
+
+"There's a small public-house near the gate of Cro' Martin, to be sure."
+
+"Then we'll dine there. I'll order a chaise at four o'clock, and we 'll
+drive over together. And now, I 'll just return to the house, for this
+wading here is not much to my taste."
+
+Mr. Merl returned gloomily to the house, his mind too deeply occupied
+with his own immediate interests to bestow any thought upon Mary Martin.
+The weather assuredly offered but little inducement to linger out of
+doors, for, as the morning wore on, the rain and wind increased in
+violence, while vast masses of mist swept over the sea and were carried
+on shore, leaving only, at intervals, little patches of the village to
+be seen,--dreary, storm-beaten, and desolate! Merl shuddered, as he cast
+one last look at this sad-colored picture, and entered the inn.
+
+Has it ever been your ill-fortune, good reader, to find yourself alone
+in some dreary, unfrequented spot, the weather-bound denizen of a sorry
+inn, without books or newspapers, thrown upon the resources of your own
+thoughts, so sure to take their color from the dreary scene around them?
+It is a trying ordeal for the best of tempers. Your man of business
+chafes and frets against the inactivity; your man of leisure sorrows
+over monotony that makes idleness a penalty. He whose thoroughfare in
+life is the pursuit of wealth thinks of all those more fortunate than
+himself then hurrying on to gain, while he who is the mark of the
+world's flatteries and attentions laments over the dismal desolation of
+an uncompanionable existence.
+
+If Mr. Merl did not exactly occupy any one of these categories, he
+fancied, at least, that he oscillated amidst them all. It was, indeed,
+his good pleasure to imagine himself a "man upon town," who played a
+little, discounted a little, dealt a little in old pictures, old china,
+old cabinets, and old plate, but all for mere pastime,--something, as he
+would say, "to give him an interest in it;" and there, certainly, he was
+right. Nothing so surely imparted an "interest" in Mr. Merl's eyes as
+having an investment. Objects of art, the greatest triumphs of genius,
+landscape the richest eye ever ranged over, political events that would
+have awakened a sense of patriotism in the dullest and coldest, all came
+before him as simple questions of profit and loss.
+
+If he was not actually a philosopher, some of his views of life were
+characterized by great shrewdness. He had remarked, for instance, that
+the changeful fashions of the world are ever alternating; and that not
+only dress and costume and social customs undergo mutations, but that
+objects of positive sterling value are liable to the same wayward
+influences. We are all modern to-day, to-morrow we may be "Louis
+Quatorze," the next day "Cinque Centi" in our tastes. Now we are
+mad after Italian art, yesterday the Dutch school was in vogue. Our
+galleries, our libraries, our houses, our gardens, all feel the caprices
+of these passing moods. There was but one thing that Mr. Merl had
+perceived never changed, and that was the estimation men felt for money.
+Religions might decay, and states crumble, thrones totter, and kings be
+exiled, Cuyps might be depreciated and marquetry be held in mean esteem;
+but gold was always within a fraction at least of four pounds eleven
+shillings the ounce!
+
+He remarked, too, that men gradually grow tired of almost everything;
+the pursuits of the young are not those of the middle-aged, still less
+of advanced life. The books which we once cried over are now thrown down
+with languor; the society we imagined perfection we now smile at for its
+very absurdities. We see vulgarity where we once beheld vigor; we detect
+exaggeration where we used to attribute power. There is only one theme
+of which our estimation never varies,--wealth! Mr. Merl had never yet
+met the man nor the woman who really despised it; nay, he had seen kings
+trafficking on 'Change. He had known great ministers deep speculators
+on the Bourse; valiant admirals, distinguished generals, learned judges,
+and even divines, had bought and sold with him, all eager in the pursuit
+of gain, and all employing, to the best of their ability, the high
+faculties of their intelligence to assist them in making crafty
+bargains.
+
+If these experiences taught him the universal veneration men feel
+for wealth, they also conveyed another lesson, which was, the extreme
+gullibility of mankind. He met every day men who ruled cabinets and
+commanded fleets,--the reputed great of the earth,--and saw them easier
+victims in his hand than the commonest capacity in "Leadenhall Street."
+They had the earliest information, but could not profit by it; they
+never understood the temper on 'Change, knew nothing of the variations
+of the money-barometer, and invariably fell into snares that your city
+man never incurred. Hence Mr. Merl came to conceive a very low general
+opinion of what he himself called "the swells," and a very high one of
+Herman Merl.
+
+If we have dwelt upon these traits of this interesting individual in
+this place, it is simply to place before our reader's mind the kind
+of lucubrations such a man might be disposed to indulge in. In fact,
+story-tellers like ourselves have very little pretension to go beyond
+the narrow limit; and having given to the reader the traits of a
+character, they must leave their secret working more or less to his
+ingenuity. So much, however, we are at liberty to declare, that Mr. Merl
+was terribly bored, and made no scruple of confessing it.
+
+"What the deuce are you staring at? Is there anything really to be seen
+in that confounded dreary sea?" cried he, as Crow stood shading his eyes
+from the lightning flashes, and intently gazing on the scene without.
+
+"That's one of the effects Backhuysen was so fond of!" exclaimed Crow,
+eagerly,--"a sullen sea, lead-colored and cold, with a white curl just
+crisping the top of the waves, over it a dreary expanse of dark sky,
+low-lying and black, till you come near the horizon, where there is a
+faint line of grayish white, just enough to show that you are on the
+wide, wide ocean, out of sight of land, and nothing living near, except
+that solitary sea-gull perched upon the breakers there. There's real
+poetry in a bit like that; it sets one a thinking over the desolation of
+those whose life is little better than a voyage on such a sea!"
+
+"Better be drowned at once," broke in Merl, impatiently.
+
+Crow started and looked at him; and had Merl but seen that glance, so
+scornful and contemptuous was it, even his self-esteem might have felt
+outraged. But he had not remarked it; and as little did he guess what
+was then passing in the poor artist's mind, as Crow muttered to himself,
+"I know one that will not be your guest to-day, if he dines on a cold
+potato, or does n't dine at all."
+
+"Did I tell you," cried he, suddenly, "that there's no horses to be
+had?"
+
+"No horses!" exclaimed Merl; "how so?"
+
+"There's a great trial going on at the assizes to-day, and Mr. Barry is
+gone on to Oughterard to hear it, and he has the only pair of posters in
+the place."
+
+"What a confounded hole!" burst out Merl, passionately. "That I ever
+should have set my foot in it! How are we to get through the day here?
+Have you thought of anything to be done?"
+
+"_I'll_ go down and find out how poor Landy is," said Crow; "for Miss
+Mary's horse is still at the door, and he must be very bad, indeed, or
+she wouldn't delay so long."
+
+"And what if it should turn out the cholera, or typhus, or something as
+bad?"
+
+"Well?" said Crow, interrogatively; for he could not guess the drift of
+the suggestion.
+
+"Simply this, my worthy friend," resumed Merl,--"that I have no fancy
+for the pleasure of your company at dinner after such an excursion as
+you speak of."
+
+"I was just going to say that myself," said Crow. "Good-bye!" And before
+Merl could interpose a word, he was gone.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XII. MR. MERL'S MEDITATIONS.
+
+Our last chapter left Mr. Herman Merl in bad company,--he was alone.
+Now, very few men's thoughts are companionable in the dreary solitude
+of a sorry inn. None of us, it is to be feared, are totally exempt from
+"this world's crosses;" and though the sorrows of life do fall very
+unequally, the light afflictions are accepted as very heavy burdens by
+those to whose lot they fall!
+
+Just as it happens, then, on some gloomy day of winter, when we have
+"finished our book," and the newspapers are tiresome, we take the
+opportunity to look through our letters and papers,--to arrange
+our desk, and put a little order in our scattered and littered
+memoranda,--somewhat in the same spirit will Conscience grasp a similar
+moment to go over the past, glance at bygone events, and make, as it
+were, a clearance of whatever weighs upon our memory. I 'm not quite
+certain that the best of us come out of this Bankruptcy Court with a
+first-class certificate. Even the most merciful to his own errors will
+acknowledge that in many things he should do differently were they to
+be done over again; and he must, indeed, have fallen upon a happy lot
+in life who has not some self-reproach on the score of kindness
+unrequited,--slight injuries either unforgiven or unequally
+avenged,--friendships jeopardized, mayhap lost, by some mere indulgence
+of temper,--and enmities unreconciled, just for lack of the veriest
+sacrifice of self-love.
+
+Were there any such court in morals as in law, what a sad spectacle
+would our schedule show, and how poor even the most solvent amongst us,
+if called on for a list of his liabilities!
+
+Lest our moralizing should grow uncomfortable, dear reader, let us
+return to Mr. Merl, now occupied, as he was, in this same process of
+self-examination. He sat with a little note-book before him, recalling
+various incidents of the past. And if the lowering expression of his
+face might be trusted, his reveries were not rose-colored; and yet, as
+he turned over the pages, it might be seen that moments of gratulation
+alternated with the intervals of self-reproach.
+
+"Wednesday, the 10th," muttered he to himself, "dined at
+Philippe's--supped with Arkright and Bailey--whist at double Nap.
+points--won four hundred and ten--might have made it a thousand, but
+B. flung the cards out of the window in a passion, and had to cease
+playing.
+
+"Thursday--toothache--stayed at home, and played piquet with
+myself--discovered two new combinations, in taking in cards--Irving came
+to see me--won from him twenty pounds his mother had just sent him.
+
+"Friday--a good day's work--walked into Martin for two thousand seven
+hundred, and took his bill at three months, with promise to renew--dined
+with Sitwell, and sold him my Perugino for six hundred--cost myself not
+as many francs--am to have the refusal of all Vanderbrett's cabinets for
+letting him off his match with Columbine, which, by the way, he was sure
+to win, as Mope is dead lame.
+
+"Martin again--Saturday--came to have his revenge, but seemed
+quarrelsome; so I affected an engagement, and declined play.
+
+"Sunday--gave him his revenge, to the tune of twelve hundred in my
+own favor--'Lansquenet' in the evening at his rooms--several swells
+present--thought it prudent to drop some tin, and so, lost one hundred
+and forty Naps.--Sir Giles Bruce the chief winner--rich, and within two
+months of being of age.
+
+"Monday--the Perugino returned as a bad copy by Fava--took it at once,
+and said I was taken in myself--Sitwell so pleased that he sat down to
+ecarte, and lost two hundred to me. I dine with him to-morrow.
+
+"Tuesday--blank--dinner at Sitwell's--met Colonel Cardie, whom I saw at
+Hombourg, and so refused to play. It was, I suspect, a plan of Sitwell's
+to pit us against each other.
+
+"Wednesday--sold out my African at seventy-one and an eighth--realized
+well, and bought in Poyais, which will rise for at least ten days to
+come--took Canchard's chateau at Ghent for his old debt at ecarte--don't
+like it, as it may be talked about.
+
+"Gave a dinner to Wilson, Morris, Leader, Whyte, and Martin--Lescour
+could n't come--played little whist afterwards--changed for hazard after
+supper--won a few Naps., and home to bed.
+
+"Took Rigby's curricle and horses for the two hundred he owes me--glad
+to have done with him--he evidently wanted a row--and so play with him
+no more.
+
+"Sent ten Naps, to the fund for the poor injured by the late
+inundations, as the police called to ask about my passport, &c.
+
+"Saturday--the Cure of St. Rochette, to ask for alms--gave three hundred
+francs, and secured his services against the police--the cure mentions
+some curious drawings in the sacristy--promised to go and see them.
+
+"Bought Walrond's library for a franc a volume--the Elzevirs alone
+worth double the amount paid--Bailey bolted, and so lose his last
+bills--Martin quarrelsome--said he never yet won at any sitting with
+me--lost seventy to him, and sent him home satisfied.
+
+"Gave five hundred francs for the drawings at St. R------, abominable
+daubs; but the police grow more troublesome every day--besides,
+Crowthorpe is collecting early studies of Rembrandt--these sketches are
+marked R.
+
+"A great evening--cleared Martin out--suspect that this night's work
+makes me an Irish estated gentleman--must obtain legal opinion as to
+these same Irish securities and post-obits, involving, as they do, a
+heavy sum."
+
+Mr. Merl paused at this _entree_ in his diary, and began to reflect in
+no very gratulatory mood on the little progress he had as yet made in
+this same object of inquiry; in fact, he was just discovering what a
+vast number of more shrewd observers than himself have long since found
+out, that exploring in Ireland is rather tough work. Everything looks so
+easy and simple and plain upon the surface, and yet is so puzteling and
+complicated beneath; all seems so intelligible, where there is nothing
+in reality that is not a contradiction. It is true he was not harassing
+himself with problems of labor and wages, the condition of the people,
+the effects of emigration, and so forth. He wanted to ascertain some
+few facts as to the value of a certain estate, and what incumbrances it
+might be charged with; and to the questions he put on this head, every
+reply was an insinuated interrogatory to himself. "Why are _you_ here,
+Mr. Merl?" "How does it concern _you?_" "What may be _your_ interest in
+the same investigation?" This peculiar dialectic met him as he landed;
+it followed him to the West. Scanlan, the landlord, even that poor
+simpleton the painter--as he called Crow--had submitted him to its harsh
+rule, till Mr. Merl felt that, instead of pursuing an examination, he
+was himself everlastingly in the witness-box.
+
+Wearied of these speculations, dissatisfied with himself and his
+fruitless journey, he summoned the landlord to ask if that "old gent"
+above stairs had not a book of some kind, or a newspaper, he could lend
+him. A ragged urchin speedily returned with a key in his hand, saying,
+"That's the key of No. 4. Joe says you may go up and search for
+yourself."
+
+One more scrupulous might not exactly have fancied the office
+thus suggested to him. He, however, was rather pleased with the
+investigation, and having satisfied himself that the mission was safe,
+set forth to fulfil it. No. 4, as the stranger's room was called, was a
+large and lofty chamber, lighted by a single bay-window, the deep recess
+of which was occupied by a writing-table. Books, maps, letters, and
+drawings littered every part of the room. Costly weapons, too, such as
+richly chased daggers and inlaid pistols, lay carelessly about, with
+curiously shaped pipes and gold-embroidered tobacco-bags; a richly lined
+fur pelisse covered the sofa, and a skull-cap of the very finest sable
+lay beside it. All these were signs of affluence and comfort, and Mr.
+Merl pondered over them as he went from place to place, tossing over one
+thing after another, and losing himself in wild conjectures about the
+owner.
+
+The writing-table, we have said, was thickly strewn with letters, and to
+these he now addressed himself in all form, taking his seat comfortably
+for the investigation. Many of the letters were in foreign languages,
+and from remote and far-away lands. Some he was enabled to spell out,
+but they referred to places and events he had never heard of, and were
+filled with allusions he could not fathom. At length, however, he came
+to documents which interested him more closely. They were notes, most
+probably in the stranger's own hand, of his late tour along the coast.
+Mournful records were they all,--sad stories of destitution and want, a
+whole people struck down by famine and sickness, and a land perishing in
+utter misery. No personal narrative broke the dreary monotony of these
+gloomy records, and Merl searched in vain for what might give a clew
+to the writer's station or his object. Carefully drawn-up statistics,
+tables of the varying results of emigration, notes upon the tenure of
+land and the price of labor were all there, interspersed with replies
+from different quarters to researches of the writer's making. Numerous
+appeals to charity, entreaties for small loans of money, were mingled
+with grateful acknowledgments for benefits already received. There was
+much, had he been so minded, that Mr. Merl might have learned in this
+same unauthorized inquiry. There were abundant traits of the people
+displayed, strange insight into customs and ways peculiar to them,
+accurate knowledge, too, of the evils of their social condition;
+and, above all, there were the evidences of that curious compound of
+credulity and distrust, hope and fatalism, energy and inertness, which
+make up the Irish nature.
+
+He threw these aside, however, as themes that had no interest for him.
+What had he to do with the people? His care was with the soil, and less
+even with it than with its burdens and incumbrances. One conviction
+certainly did impress itself strongly upon him,--that he 'd part with
+his claims on the estate for almost anything, in preference to himself
+assuming the cares and duties of an Irish landlord,--a position which he
+summed up by muttering to himself, "is simply to have so many acres of
+bad land, with the charge of feeding so many thousands of bad people."
+Here were suggestions, it is true, how to make them better, coupled
+with details that showed the writer to be one well acquainted with the
+difficulties of his task; here, also, were dark catalogues of crime,
+showing how destitution and vice went hand in hand, and that the seasons
+of suffering were those of lawlessness and violence. Various hands were
+detectable in these documents. Some evinced the easy style and graceful
+penmanship of education; others were written in the gnarled hand of the
+daily, laborer. Many of these were interlined in what Merl soon detected
+to be the stranger's own handwriting; and brief as such remarks were,
+they sufficed to show how carefully their contents had been studied by
+him.
+
+"What could be the object of all this research? Was he some emissary of
+the Government, sent expressly to obtain this knowledge? Was he employed
+by some section of party politicians, or was he one of those literary
+philanthropists who trade upon the cheap luxury of pitying the poor and
+detailing their sorrows? At all events," thought Mr. Merl, "this same
+information seems to have cost him considerable research, and not
+a little money; and as I am under a pledge to give the Captain some
+account of his dear country, here is a capital opportunity to do so,
+not only with ease, but actually with honor." And having formed this
+resolve, he instantly proceeded to its execution. That wonderful little
+note-book, with its strong silver clasps, so full of strange and curious
+information, was now produced; but he soon saw that the various facts to
+be recorded demanded a wider space, and so he set himself to write down
+on a loose sheet of paper notices of the land in tillage or in pasture,
+the numerical condition of the people as compared with former years,
+their state, their prospects; but when he came to tell of the ravages
+made and still making by pestilence amongst them, he actually stopped to
+reread the records, so terrible and astounding were the facts narrated.
+A dreadful malady walked the land, and its victims lay in every house!
+The villages were depopulated, the little clusters of houses at cross
+roads were stricken, the lone shealing on the mountain side, the
+miserable cottage of the dreary moor, were each the scenes of desolation
+and death. It was as though the land were about to be devastated, and
+the race of man swept from its surface! As he read on, he came upon
+some strictures in the stranger's own hand upon these sad events, and
+perceived how terribly had the deserted, neglected state of the people
+aided the fatal course of the epidemic. No hospitals had been provided,
+no stores of any remedial kind, not a doctor for miles around, save an
+old physician who had been retained at Miss Martin's special charge, and
+who was himself nigh exhausted by the fatigue of his office.
+
+Mr. Merl laid down his pen to think,--not, indeed, in any compassionate
+spirit of that suffering people; his sorrows were not for those who lay
+on beds of want and sickness; his whole anxiety was for a certain person
+very dear to his own heart, who had rashly accepted securities on a
+property which, to all seeming, was verging upon ruin; this conviction
+being strongly impressed by the lawless state of the country, and the
+hopelessness of expecting payment from a tenantry so circumstanced.
+
+"Sympathy, indeed!" cried he; "I should like to hear of a little
+sympathy for the unlucky fellow who has accepted a mortgage on this
+confounded estate! These wretched creatures have little to lose,--and
+even death itself ought to be no unwelcome relief to a life like
+theirs,--but to a man such as I am, with abundance of projects for his
+spare cash, this is a pretty investment! It is not impossible that this
+philanthropic stranger, whoever he be, might buy up my bonds. He should
+have them a bargain,--ay, by Jove! I'd take off a jolly percentage to
+touch the 'ready;' and who knows, what with all his benevolence, his
+charity, and his Christian kindliness, if he 'd not come down handsomely
+to rescue this unhappy people from the hands of a Jew!"
+
+And Mr. Merl laughed pleasantly, for the conceit amused him, and it
+sounded gratefully to his imagination that even his faith could be put
+out to interest, and the tabernacle be turned to good account. The noise
+of a chaise approaching at a sharp trot along the shingly beach startled
+him from his musings, and he had barely time to snatch up the paper
+on which he had scrawled his notes, and hasten downstairs, when the
+obsequious landlord, rushing to the door, ushered in Mr. Barry, and
+welcomed him back again.
+
+Merl suffered his door to stand ajar, that he might take a look at
+the stranger as he passed. He was a very large, powerfully built man,
+somewhat stooped by age, but showing even in advanced years signs of a
+vigorous frame and stout constitution; his head was massive, and covered
+with snow-white hair, which descended on the back of his neck. His
+countenance must in youth have been handsome, and even yet bore the
+expression of a frank, generous, but somewhat impetuous nature,--so
+at least it struck him who now observed it; a character not improbably
+aided by his temper as he entered, for he had returned from scenes of
+misery and suffering, and was in a mood of indignation at the neglect he
+had just witnessed.
+
+"You said truly," said he to the landlord. "You told me I shouldn't
+see a gentleman for twenty miles round; that all had fled and left the
+people to their fate, and I see now it is a fact."
+
+"Faix, and no wonder," answered the host. "Wet potatoes and the shaking
+ague, not to speak of cholera morbus, is n't great inducements to stay
+and keep company with. I 'd be off, too, if I had the means."
+
+"But I spoke of gentlemen, sir," said the stranger, with a strong
+emphasis on the word,--"men who should be the first to prove their birth
+and blood when a season of peril was near."
+
+"Thrue for you, sir," chimed in Joe, who suddenly detected the blunder
+he had committed. "The Martins ought not to have run away in the middle
+of our distress."
+
+"They left the ship in a storm; they 'll find a sorry wreck when they
+return to it," muttered the stranger, as he ascended the stairs.
+
+"By Jacob! just what I suspected," said Merl to himself, while he closed
+the door; "this property won't be worth sixpence, and I am regularly
+'done.'"
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIII. A NIGHT OF STORM
+
+The curtains were closely drawn, and a cheerful turf fire blazed in
+the room where Mr. Merl sat at dinner. The fare was excellent, and even
+rustic cookery sufficed to make fresh salmon and mountain mutton and
+fat woodcocks delectable; while the remains of Mr. Scanlan's hamper set
+forth some choice Madeira and several bottles of Sneyd's claret. Nor was
+he for whose entertainment these good things were provided in any way
+incapable of enjoying them. With the peculiar sensuality of his race,
+he loved his dinner all to himself and alone. He delighted in the
+privileged selfishness that isolation conferred, and he revelled in a
+sort of complacent flattery at the thought of all the people who were
+dining worse than himself, and the stray thousands besides who were not
+destined on that day to dine at all.
+
+The self-caressing shudder that came over him as the sound of a horse at
+speed on the shore outside was heard, spoke plainly as words themselves
+the pleasant comparison that crossed his mind between the condition of
+the rider and his own. He drew nearer the fire, he threw on a fresh log
+of pine, and, filling up a bumper, seemed to linger as he viewed it, as
+though wishing health and innumerable blessings to Mr. Herman Merl.
+
+The noise of the clattering hoofs died away in distance and in the
+greater uproar of the storm, and Mr. Merl thought no more of them. How
+often happens it, dear reader, that some brief interruption flashes
+through our seasons of enjoyment; we are startled, perhaps; we even
+need a word or two to reassure us that all is well, and then the work of
+pleasure goes on, and we forget that it had ever been retarded; and
+yet, depend upon it, in that fleeting second of time some sad episode of
+human life has, like a spectre, crossed our path, and some deep sorrow
+gone wearily past us.
+
+Let us follow that rider, then, who now, quitting the bleak shore,
+has entered a deep gorge between the mountain. The rain swept along in
+torrents; the wind in fitful gusts dashes the mountain stream in many a
+wayward shape, and snaps the stems of old trees in pieces; landslips and
+broken rocks impede the way; and yet that brave horse holds ever onward,
+now stretching to a fast gallop, now gathering himself to clear some
+foaming torrent, or some fragment of fallen timber.
+
+The night is so dark that the rider cannot see the horse's length in
+advance; but every feature of the way is well known, and an instinctive
+sense of the peril to be apprehended at each particular spot guides that
+hand and nerves that heart. Mary Martin--for she it is--had ridden that
+same path at all seasons and all hours, but never on a wilder night,
+nor through a more terrible hurricane than this. At moments her speed
+relaxed, as if to breathe her horse; and twice she pulled up short, to
+listen and distinguish between the sound of thunder and the crashing
+noise of rocks rolling from the mountain. There was a sublimity in the
+scene, lit up at moments by the lightning; and a sense of peril, too,
+that exalted the adventurous spirit of the girl, and imparted to her
+heart a high heroic feeling. The glorious sentiment of confronting
+danger animated and excited her; and her courage rose with each new
+difficulty of the way, till her very brain seemed to reel with the wild
+transport of her emotions.
+
+As she emerged from the gorge, she gained a high tableland, over which
+the wind swept unimpeded. Not a cliff, not a rock, not a tree, broke the
+force of the gale, which raged with all the violence of a storm at sea.
+Crouching low upon the saddle, stooping at times to the mane, she could
+barely make way against the hurricane; and more than once her noble
+charger was driven backward, and forced to turn his back to the storm.
+_Her_ courage never failed. Taking advantage of every passing lull, she
+dashed forward, ready to wheel and halt when the wind shot past with
+violence.
+
+Descending at last from this elevated plateau, she again entered a deep
+cleft between the mountain, the road littered with fallen earth and
+branches of trees, so as almost to defy a passage. After traversing
+upwards of a mile of this wearisome way, she arrived at the door of a
+small cabin, the first trace of habitation since she had quitted the
+village. It was a mere hovel, abutting against a rock, and in its dreary
+solitude seemed the last refuge of direst poverty.
+
+She bent down from her saddle to look in at the window; but, except some
+faint embers on the hearth, all was dark within. She then knocked with
+her whip against the door, and called "Morris" two or three times; but
+no reply was given. Springing from her horse, Mary fastened the bridle
+to the hasp of the door-post, and entered. The heavy breathing of one
+in deep sleep at once caught her attention > and, approaching the
+fireplace, she lighted a piece of pine-wood to examine about her. On a
+low settle in one corner lay the figure of a young woman, whose pale,
+pinched features contrasted strongly with the bright ribbons of her cap
+floating loosely at either side. Mary tottered as she drew nigher; a
+terrible sense of fear was over her,--a terror of she knew not what.
+She held the flickering flame closer, and saw that she was dead! Poor
+Margaret, she had been one of Mary's chief favorites; the very cap that
+now decked her cold forehead was Mary's wedding-gift to her. But a few
+days before, her little child had been carried to the churchyard; and
+it was said that the mother never held up her head after. Sick almost
+to fainting, Mary Martin sank into a chair, and then saw, for the first
+time, the figure of a man, who, half kneeling, lay with his head on the
+foot of the bed, fast asleep! Weariness, utter exhaustion, were
+marked in his pale-worn features, while his attitude bespoke complete
+prostration. His hand still clasped a little rosary.
+
+[Illustration: 156]
+
+It seemed but the other day that she had wished them "joy" upon their
+wedding, and they had gone home to their little cabin in hopefulness
+and high-hearted spirit, and there she lay now a cold corpse, and he,
+bereaved and childless. What a deal of sad philosophy do these words
+reveal! What dark contrasts do we bring up when we say, "It was but the
+other day." It was but "the other day," and Cro' Martin was the home
+of one whose thriving tenantry reflected back all his efforts for their
+welfare, when movement and occupation bespoke a condition of activity
+and cheerful industry; when, even in their poverty, the people bore
+bravely up, and the cases of suffering but sufficed to call out traits
+of benevolence and kind feeling. It was but "the other day," and Mary
+herself rode out amidst the people, like some beloved sovereign in the
+middle of her subjects; happy faces beamed brighter when she came, and
+even misery half forgot itself in her presence. But "the other day" and
+the flag waved proudly from the great tower, to show that Cro' Martin
+was the residence of its owner, and Mary the life and soul of all that
+household!
+
+Such-like were her thoughts as she stood still gazing on the sad scene
+before her. She could not bring herself to awaken the poor fellow, who
+thus, perchance, stole a short respite from his sorrows; but leaving
+some money beside him on a chair, and taking one farewell look of poor
+Margaret, she stole silently away, and remounted her horse.
+
+Again she is away through the storm and the tempest! Her pace is now
+urged to speed, for she knows every field and every fence,--where to
+press her horse to his gallop, where to spare and husband his strength.
+At one moment she steals carefully along amid fragments of fallen rocks
+and broken timber; at another, she flies, with racing speed, over the
+smooth sward. At length, through the gloom and darkness, the tall towers
+of Cro' Martin are seen over the deep woods; but her horse's head is not
+turned thitherward. No; she has taken another direction, and, skirting
+the wall of the demesne, she is off towards the wild, bleak country
+beyond. It is past midnight; not a light gleams from a cabin window as
+she dashes past; all is silent save the plashing rain, which, though the
+wind has abated, continues to fall in torrents. Crossing the bleak moor,
+whose yawning pits even in daylight suggest care and watchfulness, she
+gains the foot of the barren mountain on which Barnagheela stands,
+and descries in the distance the flickering of a light dimly traceable
+through the falling rain.
+
+For the first time her horse shows signs of fatigue, and Mary caresses
+him with her hand, and speaks encouragingly to him as she slackens her
+pace, ascending the hill at a slow walk. After about half an hour of
+this toilsome progress, for the surface is stony and rock-covered, she
+reaches the little "boreen" road which forms the approach to the house.
+Mary has never been there before, and advances now slowly and carefully
+between two rude walls of dry masonry which lead to the hall-door. As
+she nears the house, the gleam of lights from between the ill-closed
+shutters attracts her, and suddenly through the swooping rain come the
+sounds of several voices in tones of riot and revelry. She listens; and
+it is now the rude burst of applause that breaks forth,--a din of voices
+loudly proclaiming the hearty approval of some sentiment or opinion.
+
+While she halts to determine what course next to follow,--for these
+signs of revelry have disconcerted her,--she hears a rough, loud voice
+from within call out, "There's another toast you must drink now, and
+fill for it to the brim. Come, Peter Hayes, no skulking; the liquor is
+good, and the sentiment the same. Gentlemen, you came here to-night to
+honor my poor house--my ancestral house, I may call it--on the victory
+we 've gained over tyranny and oppression." Loud cheers here interrupted
+him, but he resumed: "They tried--by the aid of the law that they made
+themselves--to turn me out of my house and home. They did all that false
+swearing and forged writing could do, to drive me--me, Tom Magennis,
+the last of an ancient stock--out upon the highways." (Groans from the
+hearers.) "But they failed,--ay, gentlemen, they failed. Old Repton,
+with all his skill, and Scanlan, with all his treachery, could n't do
+it. Joe Nelligan, like Goliath--no, like David, I mean--put a stone
+between their two eyes, and laid them low." (Loud cheering, and cries of
+"Why is n't he here?" "Where is he to-night?") "Ay, gentlemen," resumed
+the speaker, "ye may well ask where is he this night? when we are
+celebrating not only our triumph, but his; for it was the first brief he
+ever held,--the first guinea he ever touched for a fee! I 'll tell
+you where he is. Skulking--ay, that's the word for it--skulking in
+Oughterard,--hiding himself for shame because he beat the Martins!" (
+Loud expressions of anger, and some of dissent, here broke forth; some
+inveighing against this cowardice, others defending him against the
+charge.) "Say what you like," roared Magennis; "I know, and he knows
+that I know it. What was it he said when Mahony went to him with my
+brief? 'I'll not refuse to undertake the case,' said he, 'but I 'll not
+lend myself to any scurrilous attack upon the family at Cro' Martin!'"
+(Groans.) "Ay, but listen," continued he: "'And if I find,' said he--'if
+I find that in the course of the case such an attempt should be made, I
+'ll throw down my brief though I never should hold another.' There's Joe
+Nelligan for you! There's the stuff you thought you 'd make a Patriot
+out of!"
+
+"Say what you like, Tom Magennis, he's a credit to the town," said old
+Hayes, "and he won your cause this day against one of the 'cutest of the
+Dublin counsellors."
+
+"He did so, sir," resumed Magennis, "and he got his pay, and there's
+nothing between us; and I told him so, and more besides; for I said,
+'You may flatter them and crawl to them; you may be as servile as a
+serpent or a boa-constrictor to them; but take _my_ word for it, Mister
+Joe,--or Counsellor Nelligan, if you like it better,--they'll never
+forget who and what you are,--the son of old Dan there, of the High
+Street,--and you 've a better chance to be the Chief Justice than the
+husband of Mary Martin!'"
+
+"You told him that!" cried several together. "I did, sir; and I believe
+for a minute he meant to strike me; he got pale with passion, and then
+he got red--blood red; and, in that thick way he has when he 's angry,
+he said, 'Whatever may be my hopes of the Bench, I'll not win my way
+to it by ever again undertaking the cause of a ruffian!' 'Do you mean
+_me?_' said I,--'do you mean _me?_' But he turned away into the house,
+and I never saw him since. If it had n't been for Father Neal there, I
+'d have had him out for it, sir!"
+
+"We've other work before us than quarrelling amongst ourselves," said
+the bland voice of Father Rafferty; "and now for your toast, Tom, for I
+'m dry waiting for it."
+
+"Here it is, then," cried Magennis. "A speedy downfall to the Martins!"
+
+"A speedy downfall to the Martins!" was repeated solemnly in chorus;
+while old Hayes interposed, "Barring the niece,--barring Miss Mary."
+
+"I won't except one," cried Magennis. "My august leader remarked,
+'It was false pity for individuals destroyed the great revolution of
+France.' It was--" Mary did not wait for more, but, turning her horse's
+head, moved slowly around towards the back of the house.
+
+Through a wide space, of which the rickety broken gate hung by a single
+hinge, Mary entered a large yard, a court littered with disabled carts,
+harrows, and other field implements, all equally unserviceable. Beneath
+a low shed along one of the walls stood three or four horses, with
+harness on them, evidently belonging to the guests assembled within. All
+these details were plainly visible by the glare of an immense fire which
+blazed on the kitchen hearth, and threw its light more than half-way
+across the yard. Having disposed of her horse at one end of the shed,
+Mary stealthily drew nigh the kitchen window, and looked in. An old,
+very old woman, in the meanest attire, sat crouching beside the fire;
+and although she held a huge wooden ladle in her hand, seemed, by her
+drooped head and bent-down attitude, either moping or asleep. Various
+cooking utensils were on the fire, and two or three joints of meat hung
+roasting before it, while the hearth was strewn with dishes, awaiting
+the savory fare that was to fill them.
+
+These, and many other indications of the festivity then going on within,
+Mary rapidly noticed; but it was evident, from the increasing eagerness
+of her gaze, that the object which she sought had not yet met her eye.
+Suddenly, however, the door of the kitchen opened and a figure entered,
+on which the young girl bent all her attention. It was Joan Landy, but
+how different from the half-timid, half-reckless peasant girl that last
+we saw her! Dressed in a heavy gown of white satin, looped up on either
+side with wreaths of flowers, and wearing a rich lace cap on her head,
+she rushed hurriedly in, her face deeply flushed, and her eyes sparkling
+with excitement. Hastily snatching up a check apron that lay on a chair,
+she fastened it about her, and drew near the fire. It was plain from her
+gesture, as she took the ladle from the old woman's hand, that she
+was angry, and by her manner seemed as if rebuking her. The old crone,
+however, only crouched lower, and spreading out her wasted fingers
+towards the blaze, appeared insensible to everything addressed to
+her. Meanwhile Joan busied herself about the fire with all the zealous
+activity of one accustomed to the task. Mary watched her intently; she
+scrutinized with piercing keenness every lineament of that face, now
+moved by its passing emotions, and she muttered to herself, "Alas, I
+have come in vain!" Nor was this depressing sentiment less felt as Joan,
+turning from the fire, approached a fragment of a broken looking-glass
+that stood against the wall. Drawing herself up to her full height, she
+stood gazing proudly, delightedly, at her own figure. The humble apron,
+too, was speedily discarded, and as she trampled it beneath her feet
+she seemed to spurn the mean condition of which it was the symbol. Mary
+Martin sighed deeply as she looked, and muttered once more, "In vain!"
+
+Then suddenly starting, with one of those bursts of energy which
+so often had steeled her heart against peril, she walked to the
+kitchen-door, raised the latch, and entered. She had made but one step
+within the door when Joan turned and beheld her; and there they both
+stood, silently, each surveying the other. Mary felt too intensely the
+difficulty of the task before her to utter a word without well weighing
+the consequences. She knew how the merest accident might frustrate all
+she had in view, and stood hesitating and uncertain, when Joan, who now
+recognized her, vacillated between her instinctive sense of respect and
+a feeling of defiance in the consciousness of where she was. Happily
+for Mary the former sentiment prevailed, and in a tone of kindly anxiety
+Joan drew near her and said,--"Has anything happened? I trust in God no
+accident has befell you."
+
+"Thank God, nothing worse than a wetting," said Mary,--"some little
+fatigue; and I'll think but little of either if they have brought me
+here to a good end. May I speak with you alone,--quite alone?"
+
+"Come in here," said Joan, pushing open the door of a small room off the
+kitchen which served for a species of larder,--"come in here."
+
+"I have come on a sad errand," said Mary, taking her hand between both
+her own, "and I would that it had fallen to any other than myself. It is
+for you to decide that! have not come in vain."
+
+"What is it? tell me what it is?" cried Joan, as a sudden paleness
+spread over her features.
+
+"These are days of sorrow and mourning everywhere," said Mary, gloomily.
+"Can you not guess what my tidings may be? No, no," cried she, as a
+sudden gesture of Joan interrupted her,--"no, not yet; he is still
+alive, and entreats to see you."
+
+"To curse me again, is it?" cried the other, wildly; "to turn me from
+the door, and pray down curses on me,--is it for that he wants to see
+me?"
+
+"Not for that, indeed," said Mary; "it is to see you--to give you his
+last kiss--his last blessing--to forgive you and be forgiven. Remember
+that he is alone, deserted by all that once were his. Your father and
+mother and sisters are all gone to America, and poor old Mat lingers
+on,--nay, the journey is nigh ended. Oh, do not delay, lest it be too
+late. Come now--now."
+
+"And if I see him once, can I ever come back to this?" cried Joan, in
+bitter agony. "Will I ever be able to hear his words and live as I do
+now?"
+
+[Illustration: 162]
+
+"Let your own good heart guide you for that," cried Mary; "all I ask is
+that you should see him and be with him. I have pledged myself for your
+coming, and you will not dishonor my words to one on his death-bed."
+
+"And I 'll be an outcast for it. Tom will drive me from the door and
+never see me again. I know it,--I know _him_!"
+
+"You are wrong, Joan Landy."
+
+"Joan!--who dares to call me Joan Landy when I'm Mrs. Magennis of
+Barnagheela? and if _I'm_ not _your_ equal, I 'm as good as any other in
+the barony. Was it to insult me you came here to-night, to bring up to
+me who I am and where I came from? That 's the errand that brought you
+through the storm! Ay," cried she, lashed to a wilder passion by her own
+words,--"ay! ay! and if you and yours had their will we 'd not have the
+roof to shelter us this night. It 's only to-day that we won the trial
+against you."
+
+"Whatever my errand here this night," said Mary, with a calm dignity,
+"it was meant to serve and not insult you. I know, as well as your
+bitterest words can tell me, that this is not my place; but I know, too,
+if from yielding to my selfish pride I had refused your old grandfather
+this last request, it had been many a year of bitter reproach to me."
+
+"Oh, you 'll break my heart, you will, you will!" cried Joan, bitterly.
+"You 'll turn the only one that's left against me, and I 'll be alone in
+the world."
+
+"Come with me this night, and whatever happen I 'll befriend you," said
+Mary.
+
+"And not desert me because I 'm what I am?"
+
+"Never, Joan, never!"
+
+"Oh, my blessings on you,--if the blessing of one like me is any good,"
+cried she, kissing Mary's hand fervently. "Oh, they that praised you
+said the truth; you have goodness enough in your heart to make up for us
+all! I 'll go with you to the world's end."
+
+"We'll pass Cro' Martin, and you shall have my horse--"
+
+"No, no, Miss Mary, I 'll go on my feet; it best becomes me. I 'll go by
+Burnane--by the Gap--I know it well--too well!" added she, as the tears
+rushed to her eyes. As she was speaking, she took off the cap she wore
+and threw it from her; and then removing her dress, put on the coarse
+woollen gown of her daily wear. "Oh, God forgive me!" cried she, "if I
+curse the day that I ever wore better than this."
+
+Mary assisted her with her dress, fastening the hood of her cloak over
+her head, and preparing her, as best she might, for the severe storm
+she was to encounter; and it was plain to see that Joan accepted these
+little services without a thought of by whom they were rendered, so
+intensely occupied was her mind by the enterprise before her. A feverish
+haste to be away marked all she did. It was partly terror lest her
+escape might be prevented; partly a sense of distrust in herself, and
+that she might abandon her own resolution.
+
+"Oh, tell me," she cried, as the tears streamed from her eyes, and her
+lips quivered with agony,--"oh, tell me I'm doing right; tell me that
+God's blessing is going with me this night, or I can't do it."
+
+"And so it is, dear Joan," said Mary; "be of good heart, and Heaven will
+support you. I 'm sure the trial is a sore one."
+
+"Oh, is it not to leave this--to leave him--maybe forever? To be sure,
+it's forever," cried she, bitterly. "He 'll never forgive me!"
+
+A wild burst of revelry now resounded from the parlor, and the
+discordant sounds of half-drunken voices burst upon their ears.
+
+Joan started, and gazed wildly around her. The agonized look of her
+features bespoke her dread of detection; and then with a bound she
+sprung madly from the spot, and was away. Mary followed quickly; but
+before she had secured her horse and mounted, the other was already
+half-way down the mountain. Now catching, now losing sight of her again,
+Mary at last came up with her.
+
+"Remember, dear Joan," said Mary, "there are nine weary miles of
+mountain before you."
+
+"I know it well," was the brief reply.
+
+"And if you go by Burnane the rocks are slippy with the rain, and the
+path to the shore is full of danger."
+
+"If I was afeard of danger, would I be here?" cried she. "Oh, Miss
+Mary," added she, stopping and grasping her hand in both her own, "leave
+me to myself; don't come with me,--it's not one like you ought to keep
+me company."
+
+"But Joan,--dear Joan,--I have promised to be your friend, and I am not
+one who forgets a pledge."
+
+"My heart will break; it will break in two if you talk to me. Leave me,
+for the love of Heaven, and let me go my road all alone. There, at the
+two trees there, is the way to Cro' Martin; take it, and may the Saints
+guide you safe home!"
+
+"And if I do, Joan, will you promise me to come straight back to Cro'
+Martin after you 've seen him? Will you do this?"
+
+"I will,--I will," cried she, bathing Mary's hand with her tears as she
+kissed it.
+
+"Then God bless and protect you, poor girl!" said Mary. "It is not for
+me to dictate to your own full heart. Goodbye,--good-bye."
+
+Before Mary had dried the warm tears that rose to her eyes, Joan was
+gone.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIV. THE END OF A BAR MESS
+
+There are few things more puzzling to the uninitiated than the total
+separation lawyers are able to exercise between their private sentiments
+and the emotions they display in the wear and tear of their profession.
+So widely apart are these two characters, that it is actually difficult
+to understand how they ever can unite in one man. But so it is. He can
+pass his morning in the most virulent assaults upon his learned brother,
+ridiculing his law, laughing at his logic, arraigning his motives,--nay,
+sometimes ascribing to him some actually base and wicked. Altercations,
+heightened by all that passion stimulated by wit can produce, ensue.
+Nothing that can taunt, provoke, or irritate, is omitted. Personalities
+even are introduced to swell the acrimony of the contest; and yet,
+when the jury have given in their verdict and the court breaks up, the
+gladiators, who seemed only thirsting for each other's blood, are seen
+laughingly going homeward arm-in-arm, mayhap discoursing over the very
+cause which, but an hour back, seemed to have stamped them enemies for
+the rest of life.
+
+Doubtless there is a great deal to be pleased at in all this, and, we
+ought to rejoice in the admirable temper by which men can discriminate
+between the faithful performance of a duty and the natural course of
+their affections. Still, small-minded folk--of which wide category
+we own ourselves to be a part--may have their misgivings that the
+excellence of this system is not without its alloy, and that even the
+least ingenious of men will ultimately discover how much principle is
+sapped, and how much truthfulness of character is sacrificed in this
+continual struggle between fiction and reality.
+
+The Bar is the nursery of the Senate, and it would not be a very
+fanciful speculation were we to ascribe the laxity of purpose, the
+deficient earnestness, and the insincerity of principle we often deplore
+in our public men, to this same legal training.
+
+The old lawyer, however, finds no difficulty in the double character.
+With his wig and gown he puts on his sarcasm, his insolence, and his
+incredulity. His brief bag opens to him a Pandora's box of noxious
+influences; and as he passes the precincts of the court, he leaves
+behind him all the amenities of life and all the charities of his
+nature. The young barrister does not find the transmutation so easy. He
+gives himself unreservedly to his client, and does not measure his ardor
+by the instructions in his brief. Let us ask pardon of our reader for
+what may seem _a mal a propos_ digression; but we have been led to these
+remarks by the interests of our story.
+
+It was in the large dining-room of the "Martin Arms" at Oughterard, that
+a party of lawyers spent the evening, some of whose events, elsewhere,
+our last chapter has recorded. It was the Bar mess of the Western
+Circuit, and the chair was filled by no less a person than "Father
+Repton." This able "leader" had determined not to visit the West of
+Ireland so long as his friend Martin remained abroad; but a very urgent
+entreaty from Scanlan, and a pressing request for his presence, had
+induced him to waive that resolve, and come down special to Oughterard
+for the Magennis case.
+
+A simple case of ejectment could scarcely have called for that imposing
+array of learned counsel who had repaired to this unfrequented spot;
+so small a skirmish could never have called for the horse, foot, and
+dragoons of law,--the wily conveyancer, the clap-trap orator, the
+browbeater of witnesses, and the light sharpshooter at technicalities;
+and yet there they were all met, and--with all reverence be it
+spoken--very jolly companions they were.
+
+An admirable rule precluded the introduction of, or even an allusion
+to, professional subjects, save when the burden of a joke, whose
+success might excuse the transgression; and thus these crafty, keen
+intelligences argued, disputed, jested, and disported together, in a
+vein which less practised talkers would find it hard to rival. To the
+practice of these social amenities is doubtless ascribable the absence
+of any rancor from the rough contests and collisions of public life, and
+thus men of every shade of politics and party, differing even in class
+and condition, formed admirable social elements, and cohered together to
+perfection.
+
+As the evening wore on, the company insensibly thinned off. Some of the
+hard-workers retired early; a few, whose affectation it was to pretend
+engagements, followed. The "juniors" repaired in different groups to the
+chambers of their friends, where loo and brandy-and-water awaited them;
+and at last Repton was left, with only two others, sole occupants of
+that spacious apartment. His companions were, like himself, soldiers of
+the "Vieille Garde" veterans who remembered Curran and Lawrence Parsons,
+John Toler and Saurin, and a host of others, who only needed that the
+sphere should have been greater to be themselves among the great of the
+nation.
+
+Rawlins was Repton's schoolfellow, and had been his rival at the Bar
+for nigh fifty years. Niel, a few years younger than either, was the
+greatest orator of his time. Both had been opposed to Repton in the
+present suit, and had held heavy retainers for their services.
+
+"Well, Repton," said Rawlins, as soon as they were left thus to
+themselves, "are you pondering over it still? I see that you can't get
+it out of your head."
+
+"It is quite true, I cannot," said Repton. "To summon us all down
+here,--to bring us some fifty miles away from our accustomed beat, for a
+trumpery affair like this, is totally beyond me. Had it been an election
+time, I should probably have understood it."
+
+"How so?" cried Niel, in the shrill piercing voice peculiar to him,
+and which imparted to him, even in society, an air of querulous
+irritability.
+
+"On the principle that Bob Mahon always puts a thoroughbred horse in his
+gig when he drives over to a country race. He's always ready for a match
+with what he jocularly calls 'the old screw I 'm driving this minute;'
+so, Niel, I thought that the retainer for the ejectment might have
+turned out to be a special fee for the election."
+
+"And he 'd have given them a speech, and a rare good one, too, I promise
+you," said Rawlins; "and even if he had not time to speak it, the county
+paper would have had it all printed and corrected from his own hand,
+with all the appropriate interruption of 'vociferous cheering,' and the
+places where the orator was obliged to pause, from the wild tumult of
+acclamation that surrounded him."
+
+"Which all resolves itself into this," screamed Niel,--"that some men's
+after-grass is better than other men's meadows."
+
+"Mine has fallen to the scythe many a day ago," said Rawlins,
+plaintively; "but I remember glorious times and glorious fellows. It
+was, indeed, worth something to say, '_Vixissi cum illis_.'"
+
+"There 's another still better, Rawlins," cried Repton, joyously, "which
+is to have survived them!"
+
+"Very true," cried Niel. "I 'd always plead a demurrer to any notice to
+quit; for, take it all in all, this life has many enjoyments."
+
+"Such as Attorney-Generalships, Masters of the Rolls, and such like,"
+said Repton.
+
+"By the way," said Rawlins, "who put that squib in the papers about your
+having refused the rolls,--eh, Niel?"
+
+"Who but Niel himself?" chimed in Repton. "It was filing a bill of
+discovery. He wanted to know the intentions of the Government."
+
+"I could have had but little doubt of them," broke in Niel. "It was my
+advice, man, cancelled your appointment as Crown Counsel, Repton. I told
+Massingbred, 'If you do keep a watch-dog, let it be, at least, one who
+'ll bite some one beside the family.'"
+
+"He has muzzled you there, Repton," said Rawlins, laughing. "Eh, that
+was a bitter draught!"
+
+"So it was," said Repton. "It was Curran wine run to the lees! and
+very unlike the racy flavor of the true liquor. And to speak in all
+seriousness, what has come over us all to be thus degenerate and fallen?
+It is not alone that we have not the equals of the first-rate men, but
+we really have nothing to compare with O'Grady, and Parsons, and a score
+of others."
+
+"I 'll tell you why," cried Niel,--"the commodity is n't marketable. The
+stupid men, who will always be the majority everywhere, have got up the
+cry, that to be agreeable is to be vulgar. We know how large cravats
+came into fashion; tiresome people came in with high neckcloths."
+
+"I wish they 'd go out with hempen ones, then," muttered Repton.
+
+"I 'd not refuse them the benefit of the clergy," said Niel, with a
+malicious twinkle of the eye, that showed how gladly, when occasion
+offered, he flung a pebble at the Church.
+
+"They were very brilliant,--they were very splendid, I own," said
+Rawlins; "but I have certain misgivings that they gave themselves too
+much to society."
+
+"Expended too much of their powder in fireworks," cried Niel,
+sharply,--"so they did; but their rockets showed how high they could
+rise to."
+
+"Ay, Niel, and we only burn our fingers with ours," said Repton,
+sarcastically.
+
+"Depend upon it," resumed Rawlins, "as the world grows more practical,
+you will have less of great convivial display. Agreeability will cease
+to be the prerogative of first-rate men, but be left to the smart people
+of society, who earn their soup by their sayings."
+
+"He's right," cried Niel, in his shrillest tone. "The age of alchemists
+is gone; the sleight-of-hand man and the juggler have succeeded him."
+
+"And were they not alchemists?" exclaimed old Repton, enthusiastically.
+"Did they not transmute the veriest dross of the earth, and pour
+it forth from the crucible of their minds a stream of liquid
+gold?--glorious fellows, who, in the rich abundance of their minds,
+brought the learning of their early days to illustrate the wisdom of
+their age, and gave the fresh-heartedness of the schoolboy to the ripe
+intelligence of manhood."
+
+"And yet how little have they bequeathed to us!" said Niel.
+
+"Would it were even less," broke in Repton. "We read the witticism
+of brilliant conversera in some diary or journal, often ill recorded,
+imperfectly given, always unaccompanied by the accessories of the scene
+wherein they occurred. We have not the crash, the tumult, the headlong
+flow of social intercourse, where the impromptu fell like a thunderbolt,
+and the bon mots rattled like a fire of musketry. To attempt to convey
+an impression of these great talkers by a memoir, is like to picture a
+battle by reading out a list of the killed and wounded."
+
+"Repton is right!" exclaimed Niel. "The recorded bon mot is the words of
+a song without the music."
+
+"And often where it was the melody that inspired the verses," added
+Repton, always glad to follow up an illustration.
+
+"After all," said Rawlins, "the fashion of the day is changed in other
+respects as well as in conversational excellence. Nothing is like what
+we remember it!--literature, dress, social habits, oratory. There, for
+instance, was that young fellow to-day; his speech to the jury,--a very
+good and sensible one, no doubt,--but how unlike what it would have been
+some five-and-thirty or forty years ago."
+
+"It was first-rate," said Repton, with enthusiasm. "I say it frankly,
+and 'fas est ab hoste,' for he tripped me up in a point of law, and
+I have, therefore, a right to applaud him. To tell you the truth," he
+added slyly, "I knew I was making a revoke, but I thought none of the
+players were shrewd enough to detect me."
+
+"Niel and I are doubtless much complimented by the remark," said
+Rawlins.
+
+"Pooh, pooh!" cried Repton, "what did great guns like you and Niel care
+for such 'small deer.' You were only brought down here as a great _corps
+de reserve_. It was young Nelligan who fought the battle, and admirably
+he did it. While I was listening to him to-day, I could not help saying
+to myself, 'It's well for us that there were no fellows of this stamp
+in our day.' Ay, Rawlins, you know it well. We were speech-makers; these
+fellows are lawyers."
+
+"Why didn't he dine with us to-day?" asked Niel, sharply.
+
+"Heaven knows. I believe his father lives in the town here; perhaps,
+too, he had no fancy for a dress-parade before such drill-sergeants as
+you and Rawlins there."
+
+"You are acquainted with him, I think?" asked Rawlins.
+
+"Yes, slightly; we met strangely enough, at Cro' Martin last year. He
+was then on a visit there, a quiet, timid youth, who actually seemed to
+feel as though his college successes were embarrassing recollections in
+a society who knew nothing of deans or proctors. There was another young
+fellow also there at the time,--young Massingbred,--with about a tenth
+of this man's knowledge, and a fiftieth of his capacity, who took the
+lead of him on every subject, and by the bare force of an admirable
+manner and a most unabashed impudence, threw poor Nelligan completely
+into the background. It was the same kind of thing I 've often seen Niel
+there perform at the Four Courts, where he has actually picked up his
+law from a worsted opponent, as a highwayman arms himself with the
+pistols of the man he has robbed."
+
+"I never pillaged _you_, Repton," said Niel, with a sarcastic smile.
+"_You_ had always the privilege the poet ascribes to him who laughs
+'before a robber.'"
+
+"Vacuus sed non Inanis," replied Repton, laughing good-humoredly.
+
+"But tell us more of this man, Nelligan," said Rawlins. "I 'm curious to
+hear about him."
+
+"And so you are sure to do some of these days, Rawlins. That fellow is
+the man to attain high eminence."
+
+"His religion will stop him!" cried Niel, sharply; for, being himself
+a Romanist, he was not sorry to have an opportunity of alluding to the
+disqualifying element.
+
+"Say, rather, it will promote him," chimed in Repton. "Take my word for
+it, Niel, there is a spirit of mawkish reparation abroad which affects
+to feel that all your coreligionists have a long arrear due to them, and
+that all the places and emoluments so long withheld from their ancestors
+should be showered down upon the present generation;--pretty much upon
+the same principle that you 'd pension a man now because his grandfather
+had been hanged for rebellion!"
+
+"And very justly, too, if you discovered that what you once called
+rebellion had been very good loyalty!" cried Niel.
+
+"We have not, however, made the discovery you speak of," said Rep ton;
+"we have only commuted a sentence, in the sincere hope that you are
+wiser than your forefathers. But to come back. You may trust me when I
+say that a day is coming when you 'll not only bless yourself because
+you're a Papist, but that you _are_ one! Ay, sir, it is in 'Liffey
+Street Chapel' we 'll seek for an attorney-general, and out of the
+Church of the Conception, if that be the name of it, we 'll cull our law
+advisers of the Crown. For the next five-and-twenty years, at least,"
+said he, solemnly, "the fourth-rate Catholic will be preferred to the
+first-rate Protestant."
+
+"I only hope you may be better at Prophecy than you are in Logic," cried
+Niel, as he tossed off his glass; "and so, I 'm sure, does Nelligan!"
+
+"And Nelligan is exactly the man who will never need the preference,
+sir. His abilities will raise him, even if there were obstacles to
+be surmounted. It is men of a different stamp that the system
+will favor,--fellows without industry for the toils of a laborious
+profession, or talents for the subtleties of a difficult career; men who
+cherish ambition and are yet devoid of capacity, and will plead the old
+disabilities of their faith,--pretty much as a man might claim his right
+to be thought a good dancer because his father had a club foot."
+
+"A most lame conclusion!" cried Niel. "Ah, Rawlins," added he, with much
+compassion, "our poor friend here is breaking terribly. Sad signs there
+are of decay about him. Even his utterance begins to fail him."
+
+"No, no," said Repton, gayly. "I know what you allude to. It is an
+old imperfection of mine not to be able to enunciate the letter _r_
+correctly, and that was the reason today in court that I called you my
+ingenious Bother; but I meant Brother, I assure you."
+
+They all laughed good-humoredly at the old man's sally; in good truth,
+so trained were they to these sort of combats, that they cared little
+for the wounds such warfare inflicted. And although the tilt was ever
+understood as with "reversed lances," none ever cherished an evil memory
+if an unlucky stroke smote too heavily.
+
+"I have asked young Nelligan to breakfast with me tomorrow," said
+Repton; "will you both come and meet him?"
+
+"We 're off at cock-crow!" cried Kiel. "Tell him, however, from me that
+I am delighted with his _debuts_ and that all the best wishes of my
+friends and myself are with him."
+
+And so they parted.
+
+Repton, however, did not retire to bed at once; his mind was still
+intent upon the subject which had engaged him during the day, and as
+he walked to and fro in his room, he still dwelt upon it. Scanlan's
+instructions had led him to believe that the Martins were in this case
+to have been "put upon their title;" and the formidable array of counsel
+employed by Magennis seemed to favor the impression. Now it was true
+that a trifling informality in the service of the writ had quashed the
+proceedings for the present; but the question remained, "Was the great
+struggle only reserved for a future day?"
+
+It was clear that a man embarrassed as was Magennis could never have
+retained that strong bar of eminent lawyers. From what fund, then, came
+these resources? Was there a combination at work? And if so, to what
+end, and with what object?
+
+The crafty old lawyer pondered long and patiently over these things.
+His feelings might not inaptly be compared to those of a commandant of
+a garrison, who sees his stronghold menaced by an enemy he had never
+suspected. Confident as he is in the resources of his position, he yet
+cannot resist the impression that the very threat of attack has been
+prompted by some weakness of which he is unaware.
+
+"To put us on our title," said he, "implies a great war. Let us try and
+find out who and what are they who presume to declare it!"
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XV. A FIRST BRIEF
+
+The reader has been already told that Joe Nelligan had achieved a great
+success in his first case. A disputed point of law had been raised,
+in itself insignificant, but involving in its train a vast variety
+of momentous interests. Repton, with an ingenuity all his own, had
+contrived to draw the discussion beyond its original limits, that he
+might entangle and embarrass the ambitious junior who had dared to
+confute him. Nelligan accepted the challenge at once, and after a stormy
+discussion of some hours came out the victor. For a while his timid
+manner, and an overpowering sense of the great odds against him, seemed
+to weigh oppressively on him. The very successes he had won elsewhere
+were really so many disparagements to him now, giving promise, as it
+were, of his ability. But, despite all these disadvantages, he entered
+the lists manfully and courageously.
+
+What a many-sided virtue is this same courage, and how prone is the
+world to award its praises unequally for it! We are enthusiastic for the
+gallant soldier the earliest in the breach, or the glorious sailor who
+first jumps upon the enemy's quarter-deck, and yet we never dream of
+investing with heroism him who dares to combat with the most powerful
+intellects of debate, or enters the field of argument against minds
+stored with vast resources of knowledge, and practised in all the
+subtleties of disputation.
+
+It is time, existence is not in the issue; but are there not things a
+thousand times dearer than life at peril? Think of him who has gone on
+from success to success; whose school triumphs have but heralded the
+riper glories of college life; who, rising with each new victory,
+is hailed by that dearest and best of all testimonies,--the prideful
+enthusiasm of his own age. Fancy him, the victor in every struggle,
+who has carried all before him,--the vaunted chief of his
+contemporaries,--fancy him beaten and worsted on his first real field of
+action. Imagine such a man, with all the prestige of his college fame,
+rudely encountered and overcome in the contest of public life, and say
+if any death ever equalled the suffering!
+
+Happily, our task has not to record any such failure in the present
+case. Young Nelligan sat down amidst the buzzing sound of approving
+voices, and received a warm eulogy from the Court on the promise of so
+conspicuous an opening. And a proud man was Dan Nelligan on that day!
+At any other time how deeply honored had he felt by the distinguished
+notice of the great dignitaries who now congratulated him on his son's
+success! With what pride had he accepted the polite recognition of Chief
+Barons and silk-gowned "leaders"! Now, however, his heart had but room
+for one thought,--Joe himself,--his own boy,--the little child as it
+were of yesterday, now a man of mark and note, already stamped with the
+impress of success in what, to every Irishman's heart at least, is the
+first of all professions. The High Sheriff shook old Nelligan's hand in
+open court, and said, "It is an honor to our county, Nelligan, to
+claim him." The Judge sent a message that he wished to see him in his
+robing-room, and spoke his warm praises of the "admirable speech, as
+remarkable for its legal soundness as for its eloquence;" and Repton
+overtook him in the street, and, catching his hand, said, "Be proud of
+him, sir, for we are all proud of him."
+
+Mayhap the hope is not a too ambitious one, that some one of those who
+may glance over these humble lines may himself have once stood in the
+position of Joe Nelligan, in so far as regards the hour of his triumph,
+and have felt in his heart the ecstasy of covering with his fame the
+"dear head" of a father.
+
+If so, I ask him boldly,--whatever may have been the high rewards of
+his later fire, whatever honors may have been showered upon him, however
+great his career, and however brilliant its recognitions,--has he ever,
+in his proudest moments, tasted such a glorious thrill of delight as
+when he has fallen into his father's arms overcome by the happiness that
+he has made that father proud of him? Oh, ye who have experienced this
+thrill of joy within you, cherish and preserve it. The most glowing
+eulogies of eloquence, the most ornate paragraphs of a flattering press,
+are sorry things in comparison to it. For ourselves, we had rather have
+been Joe Nelligan when, with his father's warm tears dimming his eyes,
+he said, "God bless you, my boy!" than have gained all the honors that
+even talents like his can command!
+
+He could not bear to absent himself from home that day; and although his
+father would gladly have celebrated his triumph by gathering his friends
+about him, Joe entreated that they might be alone. And they were so. The
+great excitement of the day over, a sense of weariness, almost sadness,
+stole over the young man; and while his father continued to relate for
+his mother's hearing various little incidents of the trial, he listened
+with a half-apathetic dreaminess, as though the theme oppressed him. The
+old man dwelt with delight on the flattering attention bestowed by the
+Court on Joseph's address, the signs of concurrence vouchsafed from time
+to time by the Bench, the approving murmur of the Bar while he spoke,
+and then the honest outburst of enthusiasm that shook the very walls as
+he concluded. "I tried," continued Dan Nelligan,--"I tried to force my
+way through the crowd, and come and tell you that he had gained the day,
+but I couldn't; they were all around me, shaking my hands, patting me on
+the shoulders, and saying, as if I did n't know it in my own heart, 'He
+'ll make you a proud man yet, Mr. Nelligan.'"
+
+"I heard it all, five minutes after it was over," said Mrs. Nelligan;
+"and you 'd never guess who told me."
+
+"Counsellor Walsh," cried Nelligan.
+
+"No, indeed; I never seen him."
+
+"It was Hosey Lynch, then, for I saw him running like mad through the
+town, spreading the news everywhere."
+
+"It was not Hosey," said she, half contemptuously. "I wish, Joe, you'd
+give a guess yourself who told me."
+
+"Guess, mother,--guess who told you what?" said he, suddenly starting
+from some deep meditation.
+
+
+"Who told me that you won the cause, and beat all the great counsellors
+from Dublin."
+
+"I'm sure, mother, it would be hard for me to say," said Joseph, smiling
+faintly; "some of our kind townsfolk, perhaps. Father Neal, old Peter
+Hayes, or--"
+
+"I'll just tell you at once," broke she in, half irritated at the
+suggested source of her information. "It was Miss Mary herself, and no
+other."
+
+"Miss Martin!" exclaimed old Nelligan.
+
+"Miss Mary Martin!" echoed Joe; while a sickly paleness crept over his
+features, and his lips trembled as he spoke.
+
+"How came you to see her? Where was she?" asked Nelligan, eagerly.
+
+"I 'll tell you," replied she, with all the methodical preparation by
+which she heralded in the least important communications,--"I 'll tell
+you. I was sitting here, working at the window, and wondering when the
+trial would be over, for the goose that was for dinner was too near the
+fire, and I said to myself--"
+
+"Never mind what you said to yourself,--confound the goose," broke in
+old Dan, fiercely.
+
+"Faith, then, I 'd like to know if you 'd be pleased to eat your dinner
+on the cold loin of veal--"
+
+"But Miss Martin, mother,--Miss Martin," urged Joe, impatiently.
+
+"I'm coming to her, if you'll let me; but when you flurry me and
+frighten me, I 'm ready to faint. It was last Candlemas you gave me a
+start, Dan, about--what was it, now? Lucky Mason's dog, I believe. No,
+it was the chimney took fire--"
+
+"Will you just go back to Miss Martin, if you please," said old
+Nelligan, sternly.
+
+"I wish I knew where I was,--what I was saying last," said she, in a
+tone of deep sorrow and contrition.
+
+"You were going to say how Miss Mary told you all about the trial,
+mother," said Joe, taking her hand kindly within his own.
+
+"Yes, darling; now I remember it all. I was sitting here at the window
+hemming them handkerchiefs of yours, and I heard a sharp sound of a
+horse coming along quick, and, by the way he cantered, I said to myself,
+'I know _you_,' and, sure enough, when I opened the window, there she
+was, Miss Mary herself, all dripping with wet, and her hat flattened on
+her face, at the door.
+
+"'Don't ask me to get down, Mrs. Nelligan,' said she, 'for I'm in a
+great hurry. I have to ride out to Kilkieran with this'--and she showed
+me a bottle she had in the pocket of her saddle. 'I only called to tell
+you that your son has gained another--' What was it she called it?--a
+victory, or a battle,--no, it was something else--"
+
+"Never mind--go on," cried Joe; "and then?"
+
+"'But, my dear Miss Mary,' says I, 'you 're wet through and through.
+It's more than your life's worth to go off now another ten miles. I'll
+send our gossoon, Mickey Slater, with the medicine, if you 'll just come
+in and stay with us.' I did n't say to dinner, for I was ashamed to ask
+her to that.
+
+"'I should be delighted, Mrs. Nelligan,' said she, 'but it is impossible
+to-day. I 'd have stayed and asked you for my dinner,'--her very
+words,--'asked you for my dinner, but I have promised poor Mat Landy to
+go back to him. But perhaps it is as well as it is; and my aunt Dorothy
+might say, if she heard of it, that it was a strange choice I had made
+of a festive occasion,--the day on which we were beaten, and the society
+of him that worsted us.'
+
+"'Oh, but, Miss Mary,' says I, 'sure you don't think the worse of poor
+Joe--'
+
+"'I never thought more highly of him, my dear Mrs. Nelligan,' said
+she, 'than at this moment; and, whatever others may say or think, I'll
+maintain my opinion, that he is a credit to us all. Good-bye! good-bye!'
+and then she turned short round, and said, 'I can't answer for how
+my uncle may feel about what has occurred to-day, but you know _my_
+sentiments. Farewell!' And with that she was off; indeed, before I had
+time to shut down the window, she was out of sight and away."
+
+"She ought to know, and she will know, that Joe never said one hard
+thing of her family. And though he had in his brief enough to tempt him
+to bring the Martins up for judgment, not a word, not a syllable did he
+utter." This old Nelligan spoke with a proud consciousness of his son's
+honorable conduct.
+
+"Good heavens!" exclaimed Joe, "is it not enough that a man sells his
+intellect, pawns his capacity, and makes traffic of his brains, without
+being called on to market his very nature, and set up his very emotions
+for sale? If my calling demands this at my hands, I have done with
+it,--I renounce it."
+
+"But I said you refrained, Joe. I remarked that you would not suffer the
+heat of discussion to draw you into an angry attack--"
+
+"And you praise me for it!" broke in Joe, passionately. "You deem it an
+occasion to compliment me, that, in defending the cause of a worthless
+debauchee, I did not seize with avidity the happy moment to assail
+an honorable gentleman; and not alone you, but a dozen others,
+congratulated me on this reserve,--this constraint,--as though the
+lawyer were but a bravo, and, his stiletto once paid for, he must
+produce the body of his victim. I regard my profession in another and
+a higher light; but if even its practice were the noblest that could
+engage human faculties, and its rewards the highest that could crown
+them, I'd quit it tomorrow, were its price to be the sacrifice of an
+honorable self-esteem and the regard of--of those we care for." And in
+the difficult utterance of the last words his cheek became crimson, and
+his lip trembled.
+
+"I 'll tell you what you 'll do, Joe," said his mother, whose kindness
+was not invariably distinguished by tact,--"just come over with _me_
+to-morrow to Cro' Martin. I 'm going to get slips of the oak-leaf
+geranium and the dwarf rose, and we 'll just go together in a friendly
+way, and when we 're there you 'll have some opportunity or other to
+tell Miss Mary that it wasn't your fault for being against them."
+
+"He 'll do no such thing," broke in Nelligan, fiercely. "Miss Mary
+Martin wants no apologies,--her family have no right to any. Joe is a
+member of a high and powerful profession. If he does n't fill as great a
+place now, who knows where he 'll not be this day fifteen years, eh, my
+boy? Maybe I 'll not be here to see,--indeed, it's more than likely I
+'ll not,--but I know it now. I feel as sure of it as I do that my name
+'s Dan."
+
+"And if you are not to see it, father," said Joe, as he pressed his
+father's hand between both his own,--"you and my dearest mother,--the
+prize will be nigh valueless. If I cannot, when my reward is won, come
+home,--to such a home as this,--the victory will be too late." And so
+saying he rose abruptly, and hurried from the room. The moment after he
+had locked his door, and, flinging himself upon his bed, buried his face
+between his hands.
+
+With all the proud sensations of having achieved a great success, his
+heart was heavily oppressed. It seemed to him as though Destiny had
+decreed that his duty should ever place him in antagonism to his
+affections. Up to a short period before this trial came on he had
+frequently been in Miss Martin's company. Now, it was some trifling
+message for his mother; now, some book he had himself promised to
+fetch her; then visits to the sick--and Joe, latterly, had taken a most
+benevolent turn--had constantly brought them together; and often, when
+Mary was on foot, Joe had accompanied her to the gates of the demesne.
+In these meetings one subject usually occupied them,--the sad condition
+of the country, the destitution of the poor,--and on this theme their
+sympathies and hopes and fears all agreed. It was not only that they
+concurred in their views of the national character, but that they
+attributed its traits of good or evil to the very same causes; and while
+Nelligan was amazed at finding the daughter of a proud house deeply
+conversant with the daily life of the humblest peasant, she, too,
+was astonished how sincere in his respect for rank, how loyal in
+his devotion to the claims of blood, was one whose birth might have
+proclaimed him a democrat and a destroyer.
+
+These daily discussions led them closer and closer to each other, till
+at length confidences grew up between them, and Mary owned to many of
+the difficulties that her lone and solitary station exposed her to.
+Many things were done on the property without--some in direct opposition
+to--her concurrence. As she once said herself, "We are so ready to
+satisfy our consciences by assuming that whatever we may do legally
+we have a right to do morally, and at the same time, in the actual
+condition of Ireland, what is just may be practically the very heaviest
+of all hardships." This observation was made with reference to some law
+proceedings of Scanlan's instituting, and the day after she chanced to
+make it Joe started for Dublin. It was there that Magennis's attorney
+had sent him the brief in that cause,--a charge which the etiquette of
+his profession precluded his declining.
+
+In what way he discharged the trust we have seen,--what sorrow it cost
+him is more than we can describe. "Miss Martin," thought he, "would know
+nothing of the rules which prescribe our practice, and will look upon my
+conduct here as a treason. For weeks long she has conversed with me in
+candor over the state of the county and its people; we separate for a
+few days, and she finds me arrayed with others against the interests of
+her family, and actually paid to employ against her the very knowledge
+she has imparted to me! What a career have I chosen," cried he, in his
+agony, "if every success is to be purchased at such a price!" With such
+men as Magennis he had nothing in common; their society, their habits,
+their opinions were all distasteful to him, and yet it was for him and
+his he was to sacrifice the dearest hope of his heart,--to lose the good
+esteem of one whose praise he had accounted more costly than the highest
+distinction a sovereign could bestow on him. "And what a false position
+mine!" cried he again. "Associated by the very closest ties with a party
+not one of whose objects have my sympathies, I see myself separated by
+blood, birth, and station from all that I venerate and respect. I must
+either be a traitor to my own or to myself; declare my enmity to all I
+think most highly of, or suffer my motives to be impugned and my fame
+tarnished."
+
+There was, indeed, one circumstance in this transaction which displeased
+him greatly, and of which he was only aware when too late. The Magennis
+defence had been "got up" by a subscription,--a fund to which Joseph's
+own father had contributed. Amongst the machinery of attack upon the
+landed gentry, Father Neal Rafferty had suggested the expediency
+of "putting them on their titles" in cases the most trivial and
+insignificant. Forfeiture and confiscation had followed each other so
+frequently in Irish history,--grants and revocations were so mixed
+up together,--some attested in all formality, others irregular and
+imperfect,--that it was currently believed there was scarcely one single
+estate of the whole province could establish a clear and indisputable
+title. The project was, therefore, a bold one which, while disturbing
+the rights of property, should also bring under discussion so many vexed
+questions of English rule and tyranny over the Irish. Libraries and
+cabinets were ransacked for ancient maps of the counties; and old
+records were consulted to ascertain how far the original conditions of
+service, and so forth, had been complied with on which these estates
+were held.
+
+Joseph had frequently carried home books from the library of Cro'
+Martin, rare and curious volumes, which bore upon the ancient history of
+the country. And now there crossed him the horrible suspicion that the
+whole scheme of this attack might be laid to his charge, the information
+to substantiate which he had thus surreptitiously-obtained. It was clear
+enough, from what his mother had said, that such was not Miss Martin's
+present impression; but who could say what representations might be made
+to her, and what change effected in her sentiments? "And this," cried
+he, in indignation--"and this is the great career I used to long
+for!--this the broad highway I once fancied was to lead me to honor
+and distinction! Or is it, after all, my own fault, for endeavoring
+to reconcile two-things which never can have any agreement,--an humble
+origin and high aspirings? Were I an Englishman, the difficulty would
+not be impassable; but here, in Ireland, the brand of a lowly fortune
+and a despised race is upon me. Can I--dare I resist it?"
+
+A long and arduous conflict was that in which he passed the night,--now
+inclining to abandon his profession forever, now to leave Ireland
+and join the English or some Colonial Bar; and at length, as day was
+breaking, and as though the fresh morning air which now blew upon him
+from his open window had given fresh energy to his nature, he determined
+he would persist in his career in his own country. "_My_ fate shall be
+an example or a warning!" cried he. "They who come after me shall know
+whether there be rewards within reach of honest toil and steady industry
+without the contamination of a mock patriotism! If I _do_ rise, it shall
+be from no aid derived from a party or a faction; and if I fail, I bring
+no discredit upon 'my order.'"
+
+There are men who can so discipline their minds that they have but to
+establish a law to their actions to make their whole lives "a system."
+Such individuals the Germans not inaptly call "self-contained men," and
+of these was Joe Nelligan one.
+
+A certain concentration of his faculties, and the fatigues of a whole
+night passed thus in thought, gave a careworn, exhausted look to his
+features as he entered the room where Repton sat awaiting him for
+breakfast.
+
+"I see what's the matter with you," said the old lawyer, as he entered.
+"You have passed the night after a 'first brief.' This day ten years
+you'll speak five hours before the Lords 'in error,' and never lose a
+wink of sleep after it's over!"
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVI. MR. REPTON LOOKS IN
+
+On the day after that some of whose events we have just recorded, and
+towards nightfall, Mary Martin slowly drove along the darkly wooded
+avenue of Cro' Martin. An unusual sadness overweighed her. She was just
+returning from the funeral of poor old Mat Landy, one of her oldest
+favorites as a child. He it was who first taught her to hold an oar;
+and, seated beside him, she first learned to steer a "corragh" through
+the wild waves of the Atlantic. His honest, simple nature, his fine
+manly contentedness with a very humble lot, and a cheerful gayety of
+heart that seemed never to desert him, were all traits likely to impress
+such a child as she had been and make his companionship a pleasure. With
+a heavy heart was it, therefore, now that she thought over these things,
+muttering to herself as she went along snatches of the old songs he used
+to sing, and repeating mournfully the little simple proverbs he would
+utter about the weather.
+
+The last scene itself had been singularly mournful. Two fishermen of the
+coast alone accompanied the car which bore the coffin; death or sickness
+was in every house; few could be spared to minister to the dead, and
+even of those, the pale shrunk features and tottering limbs bespoke how
+dearly the duty cost them. Old Mat had chosen for his last resting-place
+a little churchyard that crowned a cliff over the sea,--a wild, solitary
+spot,--an old gable, a ruined wall, a few low gravestones, and no more.
+The cliff itself, rising abruptly from the sea to some four hundred
+feet, was perforated with the nests of sea-fowl, whose melancholy cries,
+as they circled overhead, seemed to ring out a last requiem. There it
+was they now laid him. Many a time from that bleak summit had he lighted
+a beacon fire to ships in distress.
+
+Often and often, from that same spot, had he gazed out over the sea,
+to catch signs of those who needed succor, and now that bold heart was
+still and that strong arm stiffened, and the rough, deep voice that used
+to sound above the tempest, silent forever.
+
+[Illustration: 188]
+
+"Never mind, Patsey," said Mary, to one of the fishermen, who was
+endeavoring with some stray fragments of a wreck to raise a little
+monument over the spot, "I'll look to that hereafter." And so saying,
+she turned mournfully away to descend the cliff. A stranger, wrapped in
+a large boat-cloak, had been standing for some time near the place; and
+as Mary left it, he drew nigh and asked who she was.
+
+"Who would she be?" said the fisherman, gruffly, and evidently in no
+humor to converse.
+
+"A wife, or a daughter, perhaps?" asked the other again.
+
+"Neither one nor the other," replied the fisherman.
+
+"It is Miss Mary, sir,--Miss Martin,--God bless her!" broke in the
+other; "one that never deserts the poor, living or dead. Musha! but
+she's what keeps despair out of many a heart!"
+
+"And has she come all this way alone?" asked he.
+
+"What other way could she come, I wonder?" said the man he had first
+addressed. "Did n't they leave her there by herself, just as if she was
+n't belonging to them? They were kinder to old Henderson's daughter than
+to their own flesh and blood."
+
+"Hush, Jerry, hush!--she 'll hear you," cried the other. And saluting
+the stranger respectfully, he began to follow down the cliff.
+
+"Are there strangers stopping at the inn?" asked Mary, as she saw lights
+gleaming from some of the windows as she passed.
+
+"Yes, miss, there's him that was up there at the churchyard--ye didn't
+remark him, maybe--and one or two more."
+
+"I did not notice him," said Mary; and, wishing the men good-night, set
+out homeward. So frequent were the halts she made at different cabins as
+she drove along, so many times was she stopped to give a word of advice
+or counsel, that it was already duskish as she reached Cro' Martin,
+and found herself once more near home. "You're late with the post this
+evening, Billy," said she, overtaking the little fellow who carried the
+mail from Oughterard.
+
+"Yes, miss, there was great work sortin' the letters that came in this
+morning, for I believe there's going to be another election; at least I
+heard Hosey Lynch say it was all about that made the bag so full."
+
+"I 'm sorry for it, Billy," said she. "We have enough to think of,
+ay, and troubles enough, too, not to need the strife and bitterness of
+another contest amongst us."
+
+"Thrue for ye, miss, indeed," rejoined Billy. '"Tis wishing them far
+enough I am, them same elections; the bag does be a stone heavier every
+day till it's over."
+
+"Indeed!" said Mary, half smiling at the remark.
+
+"Thrue as I 'm here, miss. I would n't wonder if it was the goold for
+bribin' the chaps makes it weigh so much."
+
+"And is there any other news stirring in the town, Billy?"
+
+"Next to none, miss. They were talkin' of putting up ould Nelligan's son
+for the mimber; and more says the Magennis of Barnagheela will stand."
+
+"A most excellent choice that would be, certainly," said Mary, laughing.
+
+"Faix! I heerd of another that wasn't much better, miss."
+
+"And who could that be?" asked Mary, in astonishment.
+
+"But sure you'd know better than me, if it was thrue, more by token it
+would be the master's own orders."
+
+"I don't understand you, Billy."
+
+"I mean, miss, that it's only his Honer, Mr. Martin, could have the
+power to make Maurice Scanlan a Parlimint man."
+
+"And has any one hinted at such a possibility?" said she, in
+astonishment.
+
+"Indeed, then, it was the talk of the market this mornin', and many a
+one said he's the very fellow would get in."
+
+"Is he such a general favorite in Oughterard?"
+
+"I'm not sure it's that, miss," said Billy, thoughtfully.
+
+"Maybe some likes him, and more is afraid of him; but he himself knows
+everybody and everybody's business. He can raise the rent upon this man,
+take it off that; 'tis his word can make a barony-constable or one of
+the watch. They say he has the taxes, too, in his power, and can cess
+you just as he likes. Be my conscience, he 's all as one as the Prime
+Minister."
+
+Just as Billy had delivered this sage reflection they had reached the
+hall door, where, having consigned the letter-bag to the hands of a
+servant, he turned his steps to the kitchen, to take an "air of the
+fire" before he set out homeward. Mary Martin had not advanced many
+steps within the hall when both her hands were cordially grasped, and a
+kind voice, which she at once recognized as Mr. Repton's, said, "Here
+I am, my dear Miss Martin; arrived in time, too, to welcome you home
+again. You paid me a visit yesterday--"
+
+"Yes," broke she in; "but you were shaking your ambrosial curls at the
+time, browbeating the bench, or cajoling the jury, or something of that
+sort."
+
+"That I was; but I must own with scant success. You 've heard how that
+young David of Oughterard slew the old Goliath of Dublin? Well, shall
+I confess it? I'm glad of it. I feel proud to think that the crop of
+clever fellows in Ireland is flourishing, and that when I, and a dozen
+like me, pass away, our places will be filled by others that will keep
+the repute of our great profession high in the public estimation."
+
+"This is worthy of you, sir," cried Mary, pressing the arm ahe leaned on
+more closely.
+
+"And now, my dear Miss Mary," said he, as they entered the
+drawing-room,--"now that I have light to look at you, let me make
+my compliments on your appearance. Handsomer than ever, I positively
+declare. They told me in the town that you half killed yourself with
+fatigue; that you frequently were days long on horseback, and nights
+watching by sick-beds; but if this be the result, benevolence is indeed
+its own reward."
+
+"Ah, my dear Mr. Repton, I see you do not keep all your flatteries for
+the jury-box."
+
+"My moments are too limited here to allow me time for an untruth. I
+must be off; to-night I have a special retainer for a great record at
+Roscommon, and at this very instant I should be poring over deeds
+and parchments, instead of gazing at 'orbs divinely blue;' not but, I
+believe, now that I look closer, yours are hazel."
+
+"Let me order dinner, then, at once," said she, approaching the bell.
+
+"I have done that already, my dear," said he, gayly; "and what is more,
+I have dictated the bill of fare. I guessed what a young lady's simple
+meal might be, and I have been down to the cook, and you shall see the
+result."
+
+"Then it only remains for me to think of the cellar. What shall it be,
+sir? The Burgundy that you praised so highly last winter, or the Port
+that my uncle preferred to it?"
+
+"I declare that I half suspect your uncle was right. Let us move for a
+new trial, and try both over again," said he, laughing, as she left the
+room.
+
+"Just to think of such a girl in such a spot," cried he to himself, as
+he walked alone, up and down the room; "beauty, grace, fascination,--all
+that can charm and attract; and then, such a nature, childlike in
+gayety, and chivalrous,--ay, chivalrous as a chevalier!"
+
+"I see, sir, you are rehearsing for Roscommon," said Mary, who entered
+the room while he was yet declaiming alone; "but I must interrupt you,
+for the soup is waiting."
+
+"I obey the summons," said he tendering his arm. And they both entered
+the dinner-room.
+
+So long as the meal lasted, Repton's conversation was entirely devoted
+to such topics as he might have discussed at a formal dinner-party. He
+talked of the world of society, its deaths, births, and marriages; its
+changes of place and amusement. He narrated the latest smart things that
+were going the round of the clubs, and hinted at the political events
+that were passing. But the servants gone, and the chairs drawn closer
+to the blazing hearth, his tone changed at once, and in a voice of
+tremulous kindness he said,--"I can't bear to think of the solitude of
+this life of yours!--nay, hear me out. I say this, not for _you_, since
+in the high devotion of a noble purpose you are above all its penalties;
+but I cannot endure to think that _we_ should permit it."
+
+"First of all," said Mary, rapidly, "what you deem solitude is scarcely
+such; each day is so filled with its duties, that when I come back here
+of an evening, it often happens that my greatest enjoyment is the very
+sense of isolation that awaits me. Do you know," added she, "that
+very often the letter-bag lies unopened by me till morning? And as to
+newspapers, there they lie in heaps, their covers unbroken to this hour.
+Such is actually the case to-day. I haven't read my letters yet."
+
+"I read mine in my bed," cried Repton. "I have them brought to me by
+candlelight in winter, and I reflect over all the answers while I am
+dressing. Some of the sharpest things I have ever said have occurred to
+me while I was shaving; not," added he, hastily, "but one's really
+best things are always impromptu. Just as I said t' other day to the
+Viceroy,--a somewhat felicitous one. He was wishing that some historian
+would choose for his subject the lives of Irish Lord-Lieutenants;
+not, he remarked, in a mere spirit of party, or with the levity of
+partisanship, but in a spirit becoming the dignity of history,--such
+as Hume himself might have done. 'Yes, my Lord,' I replied, 'your
+observation is most just; it should be a continuation of Rapine.' Eh! it
+was a home-thrust, wasn't it?--'a continuation of Rapine.'" And the old
+man laughed till his eyes ran over.
+
+"Do these great folk ever thoroughly forgive such things?" asked Mary.
+
+"My dear child, their self-esteem is so powerful they never feel them;
+and even when they do, the chances are that they store them up in their
+memories, to retail afterwards as their own. I have detected my own
+stolen property more than once; but always so damaged by wear, and
+disfigured by ill-usage, that I never thought of reclaiming it."
+
+"The affluent need never fret for a little robbery," said Mary, smiling.
+
+"Ay, but they may like to be the dispensers of their own riches,"
+rejoined Repton, who never was happier than when able to carry out
+another's illustration.
+
+"Is Lord Reckington agreeable?" asked Mary, trying to lead him on to any
+other theme than that of herself.
+
+"He is eminently so. Like all men of his class, he makes more of a small
+stock in trade than we with our heads full can ever pretend to. Such men
+talk well, for they think fluently. Their tact teaches them the popular
+tone on every subject, and they have the good sense never to rise above
+it."
+
+"And Massingbred, the secretary, what of him?"
+
+"A very well-bred gentleman, strongly cased in the triple armor of
+official dulness. Such men converse as stupid whist-players play
+cards; they are always asking to 'let them see the last trick;' and the
+consequence is they are ever half an hour behind the rest of the world.
+Ay, Miss Mary, and this is an age where one must never be half a second
+in arrear. This is really delicious Port; and now that the Burgundy is
+finished, I think I prefer it. Tell Martin I said so when you write to
+him. I hope the cellar is well stocked with it."
+
+"It was so when my uncle went away, but I fear I have made great inroads
+upon it. It was my chief remedy with the poor."
+
+"With the poor! such wine as this,--the richest grape that ever purpled
+over the Douro! Do you tell me that you gave this to these--Heaven
+forgive me, what am I saying? Of course you gave it; you gave them
+what was fifty times more precious,--the kind ministerings of your own
+angelic nature, the soft words and soft looks and smiles that a prince
+might have knelt for. I 'm not worthy to drink another glass of it,"
+added he, as he pushed the decanter from him towards the centre of the
+table.
+
+"But you shall, though," said Mary, filling his glass, "and it shall be
+a bumper to my health."
+
+"A toast I'd stake my life for," said he, reverently, as he lifted her
+hand to his lips and kissed it with all the deference of a courtier.
+"And now," added he, refilling his glass, "I drink this to the worthy
+fellow whose portrait is before me; and may he soon come back again."
+He arose as he spoke, and giving his hand to Mary, led her into the
+drawing-room. "Ay, my dear Miss Mary," said he, following up the theme
+in his own thoughts, "it is here your uncle ought to be. When the army
+is in rout and dismay, the general's presence is the talisman that
+restores discipline. Everything around us at this moment is full of
+threatening danger. The catalogue of the assizes is a dark record; I
+never saw its equal, no more have I ever witnessed anything to compare
+with the dogged indifference of the men arraigned. The Irishman is half
+a fatalist by nature; it will be an evil hour that makes him wholly
+one!"
+
+"But still," said Mary, "you 'd scarcely counsel his return here at this
+time. The changes that have taken place would fret him deeply, not to
+speak of even worse!"
+
+She delivered the last few words in a voice broken and trembling; and
+Repton, turning quickly towards her, said,--"I know what you point at:
+the irritated feeling of the people, and that insolent menace they dared
+to affix to his own door."
+
+"You heard of that, then?" cried she, eagerly.
+
+"To be sure, I heard of it; and I heard how your own hands tore it down,
+and riding with it into the midst of them at Kiltimmon market, you said,
+'I 'll give five hundred pounds to him who shows me who did this, and I
+'ll forfeit five hundred more if I do not horsewhip the coward from the
+county.'"
+
+Mary hid her face within her hands; but closely as she pressed them
+there, the warm tears would force their way through, and fall, dropping
+on her bosom.
+
+"You are a noble girl," cried he, in ecstasy; "and in all your
+great trials there is nothing finer than this, that the work of your
+benevolence has never been stayed by the sense of ill-requital, and you
+have never involved the character of a people in the foul crime of a
+miscreant."
+
+"How could I so wrong them, sir?" broke she out. "Who better than myself
+can speak of their glorious courage, their patient resignation, their
+noble self-devotion? Has not the man, sinking under fever, crawled
+from his bed to lead me to the house of another deeper in misery than
+himself? Have I not seen the very poorest sharing the little alms
+bestowed upon their wretchedness? Have I not heard the most touching
+words of gratitude from lips growing cold in death? You may easily
+show me lands of greater comfort, where the blessings of wealth and
+civilization are more widely spread; but I defy you to point to any
+where the trials of a whole people have been so great and so splendidly
+sustained."
+
+"I'll not ask the privilege of reply," said Repton; "perhaps I 'd rather
+be convinced by you than attempt to gainsay one word of your argument."
+
+"At your peril, sir," said she, menacing him with her finger, while a
+bright smile lit up her features.
+
+"The chaise is at the door, sir," said a servant, entering and
+addressing Repton.
+
+"Already!" exclaimed he. "Why, my dear Miss Mary, it can't surely be
+eight o'clock. No; but," added he, looking at his watch, "it only wants
+a quarter of ten, and I have not said one half of what I had to say, nor
+heard a fourth of what you had to tell me."
+
+"Let the postboy put up his horses, William," said Miss Martin, "and
+bring tea."
+
+"A most excellent suggestion," chimed in Repton. "Do you know, my dear,
+that we old bachelors never thoroughly appreciate all that we have
+missed in domesticity till we approach a tea-table. We surround
+ourselves with fifty mockeries of home-life; we can manage soft carpets,
+warm curtains, snug dinners, but somehow our cup of tea is a rude
+imitation that only depicts the inaccuracy of the copy. Without the
+priestess the tea-urn sings forth no incantation."
+
+"How came it that Mr. Repton remained a Benedict?" asked she, gayly.
+
+"By the old accident, that he would n't take what he might have, and
+could n't get what he wished. Add to that," continued he, after a pause,
+"when a man comes to a certain time of life without marrying, the world
+has given to him a certain place, assigned to him, as it were, a certain
+part which would be utterly marred by a wife. The familiarity of one's
+female acquaintance--the pleasantest spot in old bachelorhood--could n't
+stand such an ordeal; and the hundred-and-one eccentricities pardonable
+and pardoned in the single man would be condemned in the married one.
+You shake your head. Well, now, I 'll put it to the test. Would you, or
+could you, make me your confidant so unreservedly if there were such a
+person as Mrs. Repton in the world? Not a bit of it, my dear child. We
+old bachelors are the lay priests of society, and many come to us with
+confessions they 'd scruple about making to the regular authorities."
+
+"Perhaps you are right," said she, thoughtfully; "at all events, _I_
+should have no objection to you as my confessor."
+
+"I may have to claim that promise one of these day yet," said he,
+significantly. "Eh, here comes William again. Well, the postboy won't
+wait, or something has gone wrong. Eh, William, what is it?"
+
+"The boy's afraid, sir, if you don't go soon, that there will be no
+passing the river at Barnagheela,--the flood is rising every minute."
+
+"And already the water is too deep," cried Mary. "Give the lad his
+supper, William. Let him make up his cattle, and say that Mr. Repton
+remains here for the night."
+
+"And Mr. Repton obeys," said he, bowing; "though what is to become of
+'Kelly _versus_ Lenaham and another,' is more than I can say."
+
+"They 'll have so many great guns, sir," said Mary, laughing; "won't
+they be able to spare a twenty-four pounder?"
+
+"But I ought, at least, to appear in the battery, my dear. They 'll say
+that I stayed away on account of that young fellow Nelligan; he has a
+brief in that cause, and I know he 'd like another tussle with me. By
+the way, Miss Mary, that reminds me that I promised him to make his--no,
+not his excuses, he was too manly for that; but his--his explanations
+to you about yesterday's business. He was sorely grieved at the part
+assigned him; he spoke feelingly of all the attentions he once met at
+your uncle's hands, but far more so of certain kindnesses shown to
+his mother by yourself; and surmising that you might be unaware of the
+exacting nature of our bar etiquette, that leaves no man at liberty
+to decline a cause, he tortured himself inventing means to set himself
+right with you."
+
+"But I know your etiquette, sir, and I respect it; and Mr. Nelligan
+never stood higher in my estimation than by his conduct of yesterday.
+You can tell him, therefore, that you saw there was no necessity to
+touch on the topic; it will leave less unpleasantness if we should meet
+again."
+
+"What a diplomatist it is!" said Repton, smiling affectionately at her.
+"How successful must all this tact be when engaged with the people! Nay,
+no denial; you know in your heart what subtle devices it supplies you
+with."
+
+"And yet, I 'm not so certain that what you call my diplomacy may not
+have involved me in some trouble,--at least, there is the chance of it."
+
+"As how, my dear child?"
+
+"You shall hear, sir. You know the story of that poor girl at
+Barnagheela, whom they call Mrs. Magennis? Well, her old grandfather--as
+noble a heart as ever beat--had never ceased to pine after her fall. She
+had been the very light of his life, and he loved her on, through
+her sorrow, if not her shame, till, as death drew nigh him, unable to
+restrain his craving desire, he asked me to go and fetch her, to give
+her his last kiss and receive his last blessing. It was a task I had
+fain have declined, were such an escape open to me, but I could not. In
+a word, I went and did his bidding. She stayed with him till he breathed
+his last breath, and then--in virtue of some pledge I hear that she
+made him--she fled, no one knows whither. All trace of her is lost; and
+though I have sent messengers on every side, none have yet discovered
+her."
+
+"Suicide is not the vice of our people," said Repton, gravely.
+
+"I know that well, and the knowledge makes me hopeful. But what
+sufferings are yet before her, what fearful trials has she to meet!"
+
+"By Jove!" cried Repton, rising and pacing the room, "you have courage,
+young lady, that would do honor to a man. You brave the greatest perils
+with a stout-heartedness that the best of us could scarcely summon."
+
+"But, in this case, the peril is not mine, sir."
+
+"I am not so sure of that, Miss Mary," said Repton, doubtingly,--"I
+'m not so sure of that." And, with crossed arms and bent-down head, he
+paced the room slowly back and forwards. "Ay," muttered he to himself,
+"Thursday night--Friday, at all events--will close the record. I can
+speak to evidence on the morning, and be back here again some time in
+the night. Of course it is a duty,--it is more than a duty." Then he
+added, aloud, "There 's the moon breaking out, and a fine breezy sky. I
+'ll take the road, Miss Mary, and, with your good leave, I 'll drink tea
+with you on Friday evening. Nay, my dear, the rule is made absolute."
+
+"I agree," said she, "if it secures me a longer visit on your return."
+
+A few moments afterwards saw Repton seated in the corner of his chaise,
+and hurrying onward at speed. His eyes soon closed in slumber, and as
+he sank off to rest, his lips murmured gently, "My Lord, in rising to
+address the Court, under circumstances of no ordinary difficulty, and in
+a case where vast interest, considerable influence, and, I may add--may
+add--" The words died away, and he was asleep.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVII. LADY DOROTHEA'S LETTER
+
+Though it was late when Repton took his departure, Mary Martin felt
+no inclination for sleep, but addressed herself at once to examine the
+letter bag, whose contents seemed more than usually bulky. Amid a mass
+of correspondence about the estate, she came at length upon the foreign
+letters, of which there were several from the servants to their friends
+or relations at Cro' Martin,--all, as usual, under cover to Miss Martin;
+and at last she found one in Lady Dorothea's own hand, for herself,--a
+very rare occurrence; nay, indeed, it was the first epistle her Ladyship
+had favored her with since her departure.
+
+It was not, then, without curiosity as to the cause that Mary broke the
+large seal and read as follows:--
+
+"Carlsruhe, Saturday Evening, Cour de Bade.
+
+"My dear Niece,--It was only yesterday, when looking over your uncle's
+papers, I chanced upon a letter of yours, dated some five or six weeks
+back, and which, to my great astonishment, I discovered had never been
+communicated to me,--though this mark of deficient confidence will
+doubtless seem less surprising to _you_.
+
+"To bring your letter to your mind, _I_ may observe it is one in which
+you describe the condition of the people on the estate, and the fatal
+inroads then making upon them by famine and pestilence. It is not my
+intention here to advert to what may possibly be a very natural error
+in your account,--the exaggerated picture you draw of their sufferings;
+your sympathy with them, and your presence to witness much of what they
+are enduring, will explain and excuse the highly colored statement of
+their sorrows. It were to be wished that an equally valid apology could
+be made for what I am forced to call the importunity of your demands in
+their favor. Five of your six last letters now before me are filled
+with appeals for abatements of rent, loans to carry out improvements,
+stipends for schoolmasters, doctors, scripture-readers, and a tribe of
+other hangers-on, that really seem to augment in number as the pauperism
+of the people increases. However ungracious the task of disparaging the
+accuracy of your view, I have no other alternative but to accept it, and
+hence I am forced to pen these lines myself in preference to committing
+the office to another.
+
+"It really seems to me that you regard our position as landed
+proprietors in the light of a mere stewardship, and that it is our
+bounden duty to expend upon the tenantry the proceeds of the estate,
+reserving a scanty percentage, perhaps, for ourselves to live upon. How
+you came to this opinion, and whence you acquired it, I have no means of
+knowing. If, however, it has been the suggestion of your own genius, it
+is right you should know that you hold doctrines in common with the most
+distinguished communists of modern times, and are quite worthy of a seat
+of honor beside those who are now convulsing society throughout Europe.
+
+"I am unwilling to utter anything like severity towards errors, many
+of which take their rise in a mistaken and ill-directed benevolence,
+because the original fault of committing the management of this property
+to your hands was the work of another. Let me hope that sincere sorrow
+for so fatal a mistake may not be the primary cause of his present
+attack--"
+
+When Mary read so far, she started with a sudden fear; and turning over
+the pages of the long letter, she sought for some allusion to her uncle.
+At length she found the following lines:--"Your cousin would have
+left this for Ireland, but for the sudden seizure your poor uncle has
+suffered from, and which came upon him after breakfast, in apparently
+his ordinary health. The entire of the left side is attacked,--the face
+particularly,--and his utterance quite inarticulate."
+
+For some minutes she could read no more; the warm tears rolled down her
+cheeks and dropped heavily on the paper, and she could only mutter to
+herself, "My poor, dear uncle,--my last, my only friend in the world!"
+Drying her eyes, with a great effort she read on:--
+
+"The remedies have been so far successful as to arrest the progress
+of the malady, and his appetite is good, and his spirits, everything
+considered, are excellent. Of course, all details of business are
+strictly excluded from his presence; and your cousin has assumed
+whatever authority is necessary to the management of the property. We
+thought at one time your presence here might have been desirable, but,
+considering the distance, the difficulty of travelling without suitable
+companionship, and other circumstances, it would, on the whole, be a
+step we should not recommend; and, indeed, your uncle himself has not
+expressed any wishes on the subject."
+
+She dropped the letter at these words, and, covering her face with her
+hands, sobbed bitterly and long; at length, and with an effort which
+taxed her strength to the utmost, she read on:--
+
+"Although, however, you are to remain at Cro' Martin, it will be more
+than ever imperative you should reduce the establishment there within
+the very strictest possible limits; and to begin this-reform, I 'm fully
+assured it is necessary you should depose old Mrs. Broon, who is really
+incapable of her duties, while her long-acquired habits of expense
+render her incompatible with any new regulations to enforce economy. A
+moderate pension--something, however, in accordance with her real
+wants and requirements, rather than what might be called her
+expectations--should be settled upon her, and there are several farmers
+on the estate, any one of whom would gladly take charge of her. The
+gardens still figure largely in the account, and considering the very
+little probability of our makings the place a residence again, might
+be turned to more profitable use. You will confer with Henderson on
+the subject, and inquire how far it might be advisable to cultivate
+vegetables for market, or convert them into paddocks for calves, or,
+in short, anything which, if less remunerative, should still save the
+enormous outlay we now hear of I scarcely like to allude to the stable,
+knowing how much you lean to the enjoyment of riding and driving; but
+really these are times when retrenchment is called for at every hand;
+and I am persuaded that for purposes of health walking is infinitely
+better than carriage exercise. I know myself, that since I have taken to
+the habit of getting out of the carriage at the wells, and walking twice
+round the parterre, I feel myself braced and better for the day.
+
+"It is not improbable but when the changes I thus suggest, and others
+similar to them, are enacted, that you will see to what little purpose
+a large house is maintained for the mere accommodation of a single
+individual, without suitable means, or indeed any reason whatever, to
+dispense them. If then, I say, you should come to this conviction,--at
+which I have already arrived,--a very great saving might be effected
+by obtaining a tenant for Cro' Martin, while you, if still desirous of
+remaining in the county, might be most comfortably accommodated at the
+Hendersons'."
+
+Three times did Mary Martin read over this passage before she could
+bring herself to believe in its meaning; and hot tears of sorrow coursed
+down her cheeks as she became assured of its import.
+
+"It is not," went on the epistle--"it is not in your uncle's present
+most critical state that I could confer with him on this project,
+nor strengthen my advice by what most probably would be _his_ also. I
+therefore make the appeal simply to your own sense of what you may
+think in accordance with our greatly increased outlay and your own
+requirements. Should you receive this suggestion in the spirit in which
+it is offered, I think that both for your uncle's satisfaction and your
+own dignity, the proposal ought to come from yourself. You could make it
+to me in a letter, stating all the reasons in its favor, and of course
+not omitting to lay suitable stress upon the isolation of your present
+life, and the comfort and security you would derive from the protection
+of a family. Mrs. H. is really a very nice person, and her tastes and
+habits would render her most companionable; and she would, of course,
+make you an object of especial attention and respect. It is, besides,
+not impossible that the daughter may soon return--though this is a point
+I have not leisure to enter upon at present. A hundred a year would he a
+very handsome allowance for Henderson, and indeed for that sum he ought
+to keep your pony, if you still continue your taste for equipage. You
+would thus be more comfortable, and really richer,--that is, have
+more disposable means--than you have hitherto had. I forbear to insist
+further upon what--till it has your own approval--may be a vain advocacy
+on my part. I can only say, in conclusion, that in adopting this plan
+you would equally consult what is due to your own dignity, as what is
+required by your uncle's interests. Your cousin, I am forced to avow it,
+has been very silly, very inconsiderate, not alone in contracting heavy
+debts, but in raising large sums to meet them at fabulous rates of
+interest. The involvements threaten, from what I can gather, to imperil
+a considerable part of the estate, and we are obliged to send for
+Scanlan to come out here, and confer with him as to the means of
+extrication. I feel there is much to be said in palliation of errors
+which have their origin in high and generous qualities. Plantagenet
+was thrown at a very early age into the society of a most expensive
+regiment, and naturally contracted the tastes and habits around him.
+Poor fellow, he is suffering severely from the memory of these early
+indiscretions, and I see that nothing but a speedy settlement of his
+difficulties will ever restore him to his wonted spirits. You will thus
+perceive, that if my suggested change of life to you should not conform
+entirely to your wishes, that you are in reality only accepting your
+share of the sacrifices called for from each of us.
+
+"There are a great number of other matters on which I wished to
+touch,--some, indeed, are not exactly within your province, such as
+the political fortunes of the borough, whose seat Mr. Massingbred has
+determined to vacate. Although not admitting the reason for his conduct,
+I am strongly convinced that the step is a mere acknowledgment of
+an error on his part, and an effort, however late, at the _amende
+honorable_. The restitution, for so I am forced to regard it, comes most
+inopportunely, since it would be a most ill-chosen moment in which to
+incur the expense of a contested election; besides that, really your
+cousin has no desire whatever for Parliamentary honors. Plantagenet,
+however, would seem to have some especial intentions on the subject
+which he keeps secret, and has asked of Massingbred not to send off
+his farewell address to the constituency for some days. But I will not
+continue a theme so little attractive to you.
+
+"Dr. Schubart has just called to see your uncle. He is not altogether
+so satisfied with his state as I could have hoped; he advises change of
+scene, and a little more intercourse with the world, and we have some
+thought of Nice, if we cannot get on to Naples. Dr. S., to whom I spoke
+on the subject of your Irish miseries, tells me that cholera is now
+the most manageable of all maladies, if only taken early; that you must
+enjoin the persons attacked to a more liberal diet, no vegetables, and
+a sparing use of French wines, excepting, he says, the generous 'Vins du
+Midi.' There is also a mixture to be taken--of which he promised me
+the prescription--and a pill every night of arnica or aconite--I 'm not
+quite certain which--but it is a perfect specific. He also adds, what
+must be felt as most reassuring, that the disease never attacks but the
+very poorest of the population. As to typhus, he smiled when I spoke
+of it. It is, he says, a mere 'Gastrite,' a malady which modern science
+actually despises. In fact, my dear niece, these would seem, like all
+other Irish misfortunes, the mere offshoots of her own dark ignorance
+and barbarism. If it were not for the great expense--and of course that
+consideration decides the question--I should have requested you to send
+over your doctor here to confer with Dr. Schubart. Indeed, I think
+it might be a very reasonable demand to make of the Government, but
+unhappily my present 'relations' with my relative Lord Reckington
+preclude any advances of mine in that quarter.
+
+"I was forgetting to add that, with respect to cholera, and indeed fever
+generally, that Dr. S. lays great stress upon what he calls the moral
+treatment of the people, amusing their minds by easily learned games and
+simple pleasures. I fear me, however, that the coarser natures of our
+population may not derive adequate amusement from the resources which
+would have such eminent success with the enlightened peasant of the
+Rhine land. Dr. S., I may remark, is a very distinguished writer on
+politics, and daily amazes us with the astounding speculations he is
+forming as to the future condition of Europe. His conviction is that our
+great peril is Turkey, and that Mohammedanism will be the religion
+of Europe before the end of the present century. Those new baths
+established at Brighton by a certain Hamet are a mere political agency,
+a secret propaganda, which his acuteness has alone penetrated. Miss
+Henderson has ventured to oppose these views with something not very far
+from impertinent ridicule, and for some time back, Dr. S. only discusses
+them with myself alone.
+
+"I had left the remainder of the sheet for any intelligence that might
+occur before post hour, but I am suddenly called away, and shall close
+it at once. When I was sitting with your uncle awhile ago, I _half_
+broached the project I was suggesting to you, and he seemed highly to
+approve of so much as I ventured to tell him. Nothing then is wanting
+but your own concurrence to make it as practicable as it is deemed
+advisable by your affectionate aunt,
+
+"Dorothea Martin."
+
+
+The eccentricities of her aunt's character had always served as
+extenuating circumstances with Mary Martin. She knew the violence of
+her prejudices, the enormous amount of her self-esteem, and the facility
+with which she was ever able to persuade herself that whatever she
+wished to do assumed at once all the importance and gravity of a duty!
+This thorough appreciation of her peculiarities enabled Mary to bear
+up patiently under many sore trials and some actual wrongs. Where the
+occasion was a light one, she could afford to smile at such trials, and,
+even in serious cases, they palliated the injustice; but here was an
+instance wherein all her forgiveness was in vain. To take the moment of
+her poor uncle's illness--that terrible seizure, which left him without
+self-guidance, if even a will--to dictate these hard and humiliating
+terms, was a downright cruelty. Nor did it diminish the suffering which
+that letter cost her that its harsh conditions seemed dictated by a
+spirit of contempt for Ireland and its people. As Mary re-read the
+letter, she felt that every line breathed this tone of depreciation. It
+was to her Ladyship a matter of less than indifference what became of
+the demesne, who inhabited the house,--the home of "the Martins" for
+centuries! She was as little concerned for the prestige of "the old
+family," as she was interested for the sorrows of the people. If Mary
+endeavored to treat these things dispassionately to her own heart,
+by dwelling upon all the points which affected others, still, her own
+individual wrong would work to the surface, and the bitter and insulting
+suggestion made to her rose up before her in all its enormity.
+
+She did her very best to turn her thoughts into some other channel,--to
+fix them upon her poor uncle, on his sick-bed, and sorrowing as he
+was sure to be; to think of her cousin Harry, struggling against the
+embarrassments of his own imprudence; of the old housekeeper, Catty
+Broon, to whom she could not summon courage to speak the cruel tidings
+of her changed lot,--but all, all in vain; back she would come to the
+humiliation that foreshadowed her own fortune, and threatened to depose
+her from her station forever.
+
+An indignant appeal to her uncle--her own father's brother--was her
+first resolve. "Let me learn," said she to herself, "from his own lips,
+that such is the destiny he assigns me; that in return for my tried
+affection, my devotion, he has no other recompense than to lower me in
+self-esteem and condition together. Time enough, when assured of
+this, to decide upon what I shall do. But to whom shall I address this
+demand?" thought she again. "That dear, kind uncle is now struck down
+by illness. It were worse than cruelty to add to his own sorrows any
+thought of _mine_. If he have concurred in Lady Dorothea's suggestion,
+who knows in what light it may have been presented to him, by what
+arguments strengthened, with what perils contrasted? Is it impossible,
+too, that the sacrifice may be imperative? The sale of part of the
+property, the pressure of heavy claims,--all show that it may be
+necessary to dispose of Cro' Martin. Oh," exclaimed she, in agony,
+"it is but a year ago, that when Mr. Repton hinted vaguely at such a
+casualty, how stoutly and indignantly did I reject it!
+
+"'Your uncle may choose to live abroad,' said he; 'to sell the estate,
+perhaps.' And I heard him with almost scornful defiance; and now the
+hour is come! and even yet I cannot bring myself to believe it. When
+Repton drew the picture of the tenantry, forsaken and neglected, the
+poor unnoticed, and the sick uncared for, he still forgot to assign me
+my place in the sad 'tableau,' and show that in destitution my lot was
+equal to their own; the very poorest and meanest had yet some spot, poor
+and mean though it were, they called a home, that Mary Martin was the
+only one an outcast!"
+
+These gloomy thoughts were darkened as she bethought her that of her
+little fortune--on which, by Scanlan's aid, she had raised a loan--a
+mere fragment remained,--a few hundred pounds at most. The outlay on
+hospitals and medical assistance for the sick had more than quadrupled
+what she had estimated. The expense once begun, she had persevered with
+almost reckless determination. She had despatched to Dublin, one by one,
+the few articles of jewelry and value she possessed for sale; she had
+limited her own expenditure to the very narrowest bounds, nor was it
+till driven by the utmost urgency that she wrote the appeal to her uncle
+of which the reader already knows.
+
+"How I once envied Kate Henderson," cried she, aloud, "the brilliant
+accomplishments she possessed, the graceful charm that her cultivation
+threw over society, and the fascination she wielded, by acquirements of
+which I knew nothing; but how much more now do I envy her, that in those
+same gifts her independence was secured,--that, high above the chances
+of the world, she could build upon her own efforts, and never descend to
+a condition of dependence!"
+
+Her diminished power amongst the people had been fully compensated by
+the sincere love and affection she had won from them by acts of charity
+and devotion. Even these, however, owed much of their efficacy to the
+prestige of her station. No peasant in Europe puts so high a value on
+the intercourse with a rank above his own as does the Irish. The most
+pleasant flattery to his nature is the notice of "the gentleman," and
+it was more than half the boon Mary bestowed upon the poor, that she
+who sat down beside the bed, who heated the little drink, who raised the
+head to swallow it, was the daughter of the Great House! Would not her
+altered fortune destroy this charm? was now her bitter reflection. Up
+to this hour, greatly reduced as were the means she dispensed, and the
+influence she wielded, she still lived in the proud home of her family,
+and all regarded her as the representative of her honored name. But
+now--No, she could not endure the thought! "If I must descend to further
+privations," said she to herself, "let me seek out some new scene,--some
+spot where I am unknown, have never been heard of; there, at least, I
+shall be spared the contrast of the past with the present, nor see in
+every incident the cruel mockery of my former life.
+
+"And yet," thought she, "how narrow-minded and selfish is all this, how
+mean-spirited, to limit the question to my own feelings! Is there no
+duty involved in this sacrifice? Shall I not still--reduced though I be
+in fortune--shall I not still be a source of comfort to many here? Will
+not the very fact of my presence assure them that they are not deserted?
+They have seen me under some trials, and the lesson has not been
+fruitless. Let them then behold me, under heavier ones, not dismayed nor
+cast down. What I lose in the prestige of station I shall more than gain
+in sympathy; and so I remain!" No sooner was the resolve formed than
+all her wonted courage came back. Rallying with the stimulus of action
+before her, she began to plan out a new life, in which her relation
+to the people should be closer and nearer than ever. There was a small
+ornamental cottage on the demesne, known as the Chalet, built by
+Lady Dorothea after one she had seen in the Oberland; this Mary now
+determined on for her home, and there, with Catty Broon alone, she
+resolved to live.
+
+"My aunt," thought she, "can scarcely be so wedded to the Henderson
+scheme but that this will equally satisfy her wishes; and while it
+secures a home and a resting-place for-poor Catty, it rescues _me_ from
+what I should feel as a humiliation."
+
+The day was already beginning to dawn as Mary sat down to answer Lady
+Dorothea's letter. Most of her reply referred to her uncle, to whose
+affection she clung all the more as her fortunes darkened. She saw all
+the embarrassment of proffering her services to nurse and tend him,
+living, as he was, amidst his own; but still, she said that of the
+journey or its difficulties she should never waste a thought, if her
+presence at his sick-bed could afford him the slightest satisfaction.
+"He knows me as a nurse already," said she. "But tell him that I have
+grown, if not wiser, calmer and quieter than he knew me formerly; that
+I should not disturb him by foolish stories, but sit patiently save when
+he would have me to talk. Tell him, too, that if changed in many things,
+in my love to_ him_ I am unaltered." She tried to add more, but could
+not. The thought that these lines were to be read to her uncle by Lady
+Dorothea chilled her, and the very tones of that supercilious voice
+seemed to ring in her ears, and she imagined some haughty or insolent
+comment to follow them as they were uttered.
+
+With regard to her own future, she, in a few words, remarked upon the
+unnecessary expense of maintaining a large house for the accommodation
+of a single person, and said that, if her Ladyship concurred in the
+plan, she would prefer taking up her home at the Chalet with old Catty
+for companion and housekeeper.
+
+She pointed out the advantages of a change which, while securing a
+comfortable home to them, would equally suggest to their dependants
+lessons of thrift and self-sacrifice, and added, half sportively, "As
+for me, when I find myself _en Suisse_, I 'm sure I shall less regret
+horses and dogs, and such-like vanities, and take to the delights of
+a dairy and cream cheeses with a good grace. Indeed, I 'm not quite
+certain but that Fortune, instead of displacing, will in reality be
+only installing me in the position best suited to me. Do not, then, be
+surprised, if at your return you find me in sabots and an embroidered
+bodice, deep in the mystery of all cottage economics, and well content
+to be so.
+
+"You are quite right, my dear aunt," she continued, "not to entertain
+me with politics. The theme is as much above as it is distasteful to
+me; and so grovelling are my sentiments, that I 'd rather hear of
+the arrival of a cargo of oatmeal at Kilkieran than learn that the
+profoundest statesman of Great Britain had condescended to stand for
+our dear borough of Oughterard. At the same time, if Cousin Harry should
+change his mind, and turn his ambition towards the Senate, tell him I
+'m quite ready to turn out and canvass for him to-morrow, and that the
+hospitalities of the Chalet shall do honor to the cause. As you speak
+of sending for Mr. Scanlan, I leave to him to tell you all the events of
+our late assizes here,--a task I escape from the more willingly, since
+I have no successes to record. Mr. Repton, however,--he paid me a visit
+yesterday, and stopped here to dinner,--says that he has no fears for
+the result at the next trial, and honestly confesses that our present
+defeat was entirely owing to the skill and ability of the counsel
+opposed to us. By some delay or mistake, I don't exactly know which,
+Scanlan omitted to send a retainer to young Mr. Nelligan, and who, being
+employed for the other side, was the chief cause of our failure. My
+uncle will be pleased to learn that Mr. N.'s address to the jury was
+scrupulously free from any of that invective or attack so frequently
+levelled at landlords when defending the rights of property. Repton
+called it 'a model of legal argument, delivered with the eloquence of a
+first-rate speaker, and the taste and temper of a gentleman.' Indeed,
+I understand that the tone of the speech has rendered all the ribaldry
+usual on such occasions in local journals impossible, and that the young
+barrister has acquired anything but popularity in consequence. Even
+in this much, is there a dawn of better things; and under such
+circumstances a defeat may be more profitable than a victory."
+
+With a few kind messages to her uncle, and an earnest entreaty for
+early tidings of his state, Mary concluded a letter in which her great
+difficulty lay in saying far less than her thoughts dictated, and
+conveying as much as she dare trust to Lady Dorothea's interpretation.
+The letter concluded and sealed, she lay down, dressed as she was, on
+her bed, and fell a-thinking over the future.
+
+There are natures to whom the opening of any new vista in life suggests
+fully as much of pleasure as anxiety. The prospect of the unknown and
+the untried has something of the adventurous about it which more than
+counterbalances the casualties of a future. Such a temperament was hers;
+and the first sense of sorrowful indignation over, she really began
+to speculate upon her cottage life with a certain vague and dreamy
+enjoyment. She foresaw, that when Cro' Martin Castle fell into other
+hands, that her own career ceased, her occupation was gone, and that
+she should at once fashion out some new road, and conform herself to new
+habits. The cares of her little household would probably not suffice to
+engage one whose active mind had hitherto embraced so wide a field of
+action, and Mary then bethought her how this leisure might be devoted to
+study and improvement. It was only in the eager enthusiasm of her many
+pursuits that she buried her sorrows over her neglected and imperfect
+education; and now a time was approaching when that reflection could no
+longer be resisted. She pondered long and deeply over these thoughts,
+when suddenly they were interrupted; but in what way, deserves a chapter
+of its own,--albeit a very brief one.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVIII. MR. MERL'S EXPERIENCES IN THE WEST
+
+"What card is this?--who left it?" said Mary, as she took up one from
+her breakfast-table.
+
+"It is a gentleman that came to the inn late last night, miss, and sent
+a boy over to ask when he could pay his respects at the castle."
+
+"'Mr. Herman Merl,'--a name I never heard of," muttered Mary to herself.
+"Doubtless some stranger wishing to see the house. Say, whenever he
+pleases, George; and order Sorrel to be ready, saddled and at the door,
+within an hour. This must be a busy day," said she, still speaking to
+herself, as the servant left the room. "At Oughterard before one; a
+meeting of the Loan Fund--I shall need some aid for my hospital; the
+Government order for the meal to be countersigned by a justice--Mr.
+Nelligan will do it. Then there 's Taite's little boy to be balloted
+for in the Orphan House; and Cassidy's son to be sent up to Dublin.
+Poor fellow, he has a terrible operation to go through. And I shall
+need Priest Rafferty's name to this memorial from the widows; the castle
+authorities seem to require it. After that, a visit to Kyle-a-Noe, to
+see all my poor sick folk: that will be a long business. I hope I may be
+able to get down to the shore and learn some tidings of poor Joan. She
+never leaves my thoughts, and yet I feel that no ill has befallen her."
+
+"The gentleman that sent the card, miss, is below stairs. He is with Mr.
+Crow, at the hall-door," said George.
+
+"Show him into the drawing-room, George, and tell Mr. Crow to come here,
+I wish to speak to him." And before Mary had put away the papers and
+letters which littered the table, the artist entered.
+
+"Good morning, Mr. Crow," said Mary, in return for a number of most
+courteous salutations, which he was performing in a small semicircle in
+front of her. "Who is your friend Mr.--'Mr. Herman Merl '?" read she,
+taking up the card.
+
+"A friend of your cousin's, Miss Mary,--of the Captain's. He brought a
+letter from him; but he gave it to Scanlan, and somehow Mr. Maurice, I
+believe, forgot to deliver it."
+
+"I have no recollection of it," said she, still assorting the papers
+before her. "What is this visit meant for,--curiosity, pleasure,
+business? Does he wish to see the house?"
+
+"I think it's Miss Martin herself he'd like to see," said Crow, half
+slyly.
+
+"But why so? It's quite clear that I cannot show him any attentions. A
+young girl, living as I do here, cannot be expected to receive guests.
+Besides, I have other things to attend to. You must do the honors of
+Cro' Martin, Mr. Crow. You must entertain this gentleman for me. I 'll
+order luncheon before I go out, and I 'm sure you 'll not refuse me this
+service."
+
+"I wish I knew a real service to render you, Miss Mary," said he, with
+unfeigned devotedness in his look as he spoke.
+
+"I think I could promise myself as much," said Mary, smiling kindly on
+him. "Do you happen to know anything of this stranger, Mr. Crow?"
+
+"Nothing, miss, beyond seeing him this week back at Kilkieran."
+
+"Oh, I have heard of him, then," broke in Mary. "It is of him the people
+tell me such stories of benevolence and goodness. It was he that sent
+the yawl out to Murran Island with oatmeal and potatoes for the poor.
+But I thought they called him Mr. Barry?"
+
+"To be sure they do; and he's another guess man from him below stairs.
+This one here"--Mr. Crow now spoke in a whisper--"this one here is a
+Jew, I 'd take the Testament on it, and I 'd not be surprised if he was
+one of them thieving villains that they say robbed the Captain! All the
+questions he does be asking about the property, and the rents, if they
+'re well paid, and what arrears there are, shows me that he isn't here
+for nothing."
+
+"I know nothing of what you allude to, Mr. Crow," said she, half
+proudly; "it would ill become _me_ to pry into my cousin's affairs. At
+the same time, if the gentleman has no actual business with me, I shall
+decline to receive him."
+
+"He says he has, miss," replied Crow. "He says that he wants to speak to
+you about a letter he got by yesterday's post from the Captain."
+
+Mary heard this announcement with evident impatience; her head was,
+indeed, too full of other cares to wish to occupy her attention with a
+ceremonial visit. She was in no mood to accept the unmeaning compliments
+of a new acquaintance. Shall we dare to insinuate, what after all is
+a mere suspicion on our part, that a casual glance at her pale cheeks,
+sunken eyes, and careworn features had some share in the obstinacy of
+her refusal? She was not, indeed, "in looks," and she knew it. "Must I
+repeat it, Mr. Crow," said she, peevishly, "that you can do all this for
+me, and save me a world of trouble and inconvenience besides? If there
+should be--a very unlikely circumstance--anything confidential to
+communicate, this gentleman may write it." And with this she left the
+room, leaving poor Mr. Crow in a state of considerable embarrassment.
+Resolving to make the best of his difficulty, he returned to the
+drawing-room, and apologizing to Merl for Miss Martin's absence on
+matters of great necessity, he conveyed her request that he would stop
+for luncheon.
+
+"She ain't afraid of me, I hope?" said Merl.
+
+"I trust not. I rather suspect she is little subject to fear upon any
+score," replied Crow.
+
+"Well, I must say it's not exactly what I expected. The letter I hold
+here from the Captain gives me to understand that his cousin will not
+only receive me, but confer with and counsel me, too, in a somewhat
+important affair."
+
+"Oh, I forgot," broke in Crow; "you are to write to her, she said,--that
+is, if there really were anything of consequence, which you deemed
+confidential, you know,--you were to write to her."
+
+"I never put my hand to paper, Mr. Crow, without well knowing why. When
+Herman Merl signs anything, he takes time to consider what's in it,"
+said the Jew, knowingly.
+
+"Well, shall I show you the house,--there are some clever specimens of
+the Dutch masters here?" asked Crow, anxious to change the topic.
+
+"Ay, with all my heart. I suppose I must accept this privilege as my
+experience of the much-boasted Irish hospitality," said he with a sneer,
+which required all Crow's self-control to resist answering. To master
+the temptation, and give himself a few moments' repose, he went about
+opening windows and drawing back curtains, so as to admit a fuller and
+stronger light upon the pictures along the walls.
+
+"There now," said he, pointing to a large landscape, "there's a Both,
+and a fine one too; as mellow in color and as soft in distance as ever
+he painted."
+
+"That's a copy," said the other. "That picture was painted by Woeffel,
+and I 'll show you his initials, too, A. W., before we leave it."
+
+"It came from the Dordrecht gallery, and is an undoubted Both!"
+exclaimed Crow, angrily.
+
+"I saw it there myself, and in very suitable company, too, with a
+Snyders on one side and a Rubens on t' other, the Snyders being a Faltk,
+and the Rubens a Metziger; the whole three being positively dear at
+twenty pounds. Ay, here it is," continued he, pointing to the hollow
+trunk of a decayed tree: "there's the initials. So much for your
+original by Both."
+
+"I hope you'll allow that to be a Mieris?" said Crow, passing on to
+another.
+
+"If you hadn't opened the shutters, perhaps I might," said Merl; "but
+with a good dash of light I see it is by Jansens,--and a clever copy,
+too."
+
+"A copy!" exclaimed the other.
+
+"A good copy," I said. "The King of Bavaria has the original. It is in the
+small collection at Hohen Schwangau."
+
+"There, that's good!" cried he, turning to a small unfinished sketch in
+oils.
+
+"I often wondered who did it," cried Crow.
+
+"That! Why, can you doubt, sir? That's a bit of Vandyke's own. It was
+one of the hundred and fifty rough things he threw off as studies for
+his great picture of St. Martin parting his cloak."
+
+"I'm glad to hear you say so," said Crow, in delight. "I felt, when I
+looked at it, that it was a great hand threw in them colors."
+
+"You call this a Salvator Rosa, don't you?" said Merl, as he stood
+before a large piece representing a bandit's bivouac in a forest, with a
+pale moonlight stealing through the trees.
+
+"Yes, that we do," said Crow, stoutly.
+
+"Of course, it's quite sufficient to have blended lights, rugged
+foregrounds, and plenty of action to make a Salvator; but let me tell
+you, sir, that it's not even a copy of him. It is a bad--ay, and a very
+bad--Haemlens,--an Antwerp fellow that lived by poor facsimiles."
+
+"Oh dear, oh dear!" cried Crow, despairingly. "Did I ever hear the like
+of this!"
+
+"Are these your best things, Mr. Crow?" said Merl, surveying the room
+with an air of consummate depreciation.
+
+"There are others. There are some portraits and a number of small
+cabinet pictures."
+
+"Gerard Dows, and Jansens, and such like?" resumed Merl; "I understand:
+a mellow brown tint makes them, just as a glossy white satin petticoat
+makes a Terburg. Mr. Crow, you 've caught a Tartar," said he, with a
+grin. "There's not a man in Europe can detect a copy from the original
+sooner than him before you. Now seven out of every eight of these here
+are veritable 'croutes,'--what we call 'croutes,' sir,--things sold at
+Christie's, and sent off to the Continent to be hung up in old chateaux
+in Flanders, or dilapidated villas in Italy, where your exploring
+Englishman discovers them by rare good luck, and brings them home with
+him as Cuyps or Claudes or Vandykes. I'll undertake," said he, looking
+around him,--"I'll undertake to furnish you with a gallery, in every
+respect the duplicate of this, for--let me see--say three hundred
+pounds. Now, Mr. Crow," said Merl, taking a chair, and spreading out his
+legs before the fire, "will you candidly answer me one question?"
+
+"Tell me what it is," said Crow, cautiously.
+
+"I suppose by this time," said Merl, "you are tolerably well satisfied
+that Herman Merl is not very easily duped? I mean to say that at least
+there are _softer_ fellows to be found than the humble individual who
+addresses you."
+
+"I trust there are, indeed," said the other, sighing, "or it would be a
+mighty poor world for Simmy Crow and the likes of him."
+
+"Well, I think so too," said Merl, chuckling to himself. "The wide-awake
+ones have rather the best of it. But, to come back to my question, I
+was simply going to ask you if the whole of the Martin estate--house,
+demesne, woods, gardens, quarries, farms, and fisheries--was not pretty
+much of the same sort of thing as this here gallery?"
+
+"How? What do you mean?" asked Crow, whose temper was barely, and with
+some difficulty, restrainable.
+
+"I mean, in plain words, a regular humbug,--that's all! and no more the
+representative of real value than these daubs here are the works of the
+great masters whose names they counterfeit."
+
+"Look here, sir," said Crow, rising, and approaching the other with a
+face of angry indignation, "for aught I know, you may be right about
+these pictures. The chances are you are a dealer in such wares,--at
+least you talk like one,--but of the family that lived under this roof,
+and whose bread I have eaten for many a day, if you utter one word that
+even borders on disrespect,--if you as much as hint at--"
+
+What was to be the conclusion of Mr. Crow's menace we have no means of
+recording, for a servant, rushing in at the instant, summoned the artist
+with all speed to Miss Martin's presence. He found her, as he entered,
+with flushed cheeks and eyes flashing angrily, in one of the deep
+recesses of a window that looked out upon the lawn.
+
+"Come here, sir," cried she, hurriedly,--"come here, and behold a sight
+such as you scarcely ever thought to look upon from these windows. Look
+here!" And she pointed to an assemblage of about a hundred people,
+many of whom were rudely armed with stakes, gathered around the chief
+entrance of the castle. In the midst was a tall man, mounted upon a
+wretched horse, who seemed from his gestures to be haranguing the mob,
+and whom Crow speedily recognized to be Magennis of Barnagheela.
+
+"What does all this mean?" asked he, in astonishment.
+
+"It means this, sir," said she, grasping his arm and speaking in a voice
+thick from passionate eagerness. "That these people whom you see there
+have demanded the right to enter the house and search it from basement
+to roof. They are in quest of one that is missing; and although I have
+given my word of honor that none such is concealed here, they have dared
+to disbelieve me, and declare they will see for themselves. They might
+know me better," added she, with a bitter smile,--"they might know me
+better, and that I no more utter a falsehood than I yield to a menace.
+See!" exclaimed she, "they are passing through the flower-garden,--they
+are approaching the lower windows. Take a horse, Mr. Crow, and ride for
+Kiltimmon; there is a police-station there,--bring up the force with
+you,--lose no time, I entreat you."
+
+"But how--leave you here all alone?"
+
+"Have no fears on that score, sir," said she, proudly; "they may insult
+the roof that shelters me, to myself they will offer no outrage. But be
+quick; away at once, and with speed!"
+
+Had Mr. Crow been, what it must be owned had been difficult, a worse
+horseman than he was, he would never have hesitated to obey this behest.
+Ere many minutes, therefore, he was in the saddle and flying across
+country at a pace such as he never imagined any energy could have
+exacted from him.
+
+"They have got a ladder up to the windows of the large drawing-room,
+Miss Mary," said a servant; "they'll be in before many minutes."
+
+Taking down two splendidly ornamented pistols from above the
+chimney-piece, Mary examined the priming, and ordering the servant away,
+she descended by a small private stair to the drawing-room beneath.
+Scarcely, however, had she crossed the threshold than she was met by
+a man eagerly hurrying away. Stepping back in astonishment, and with a
+face pale as death, he exclaimed, "Is it Miss Martin?"
+
+"Yes, sir," replied she, firmly; "and your name?"
+
+"Mr. Merl--Herman Merl," said he, with a stealthy glance towards
+the windows, on the outside of which two fellows were now seated,
+communicating with those below.
+
+"This is not a moment for much ceremony, sir," said she, promptly; "but
+you are here opportunely. These people will have it that I am harboring
+here one that they are in pursuit of. I have assured them of their
+error, I have pledged my word of honor upon it, but they are not
+satisfied. They declare that they will search the house, and _I_ as
+firmly declare they-shall not."
+
+"But the person is really not here?" broke in Merl.
+
+"I have said so, sir," rejoined she, haughtily.
+
+"Then why not let them search? Egad, I'd say, look away to your heart's
+content, pry into every hole and corner you please, only don't do any
+mischief to the furniture--don't let any--"
+
+"I was about to ask your assistance, sir, but your counsel saves me from
+the false step. To one who proffers such wise advice, arguments like
+these"--and she pointed to the pistols--"arguments like these would be
+most distasteful; and yet let us see if others may not be of your mind
+too." And steadily aiming her weapon for a second or two, she sent
+a ball through the window, about a foot above the head of one of the
+fellows without. Scarcely had the report rung out and the splintering
+glass fallen, than the two men leaped to the ground, while a wild cheer,
+half derision, half anger, burst from the mob beneath. "Now, sir,"
+continued she, with a smile of a very peculiar meaning, as she turned
+towards Merl,--"now, sir, you will perceive that you have got into very
+indiscreet company, such as I 'm sure Captain Martin's letter never
+prepared you for; and although it is not exactly in accordance with the
+usual notions of Irish hospitality to point to the door, perhaps you
+will be grateful to me when I say that you can escape by that corridor.
+It leads to a stair which will conduct you to the stable-yard. I'll
+order a saddle-horse for you. I suppose you ride?" And really the glance
+which accompanied these words was not a flattery.
+
+[Illustration: 222]
+
+However the proposition might have met Mr.' Merl's wishes there is no
+means of knowing, for a tremendous crash now interrupted the colloquy,
+and the same instant the door of the drawing-room was burst open, and
+Magennis, followed by a number of country people, entered.
+
+"I told you," cried he, rudely, "that I'd not be denied. It's your own
+fault if you would drive me to enter here by force."
+
+"Well, sir, force has done it," said she, taking a seat as she spoke. "I
+am here alone, and you may be proud of the achievement!" The glance she
+directed towards Merl made that gentleman shrink back, and eventually
+slide noiselessly from the room, and escape from the scene altogether.
+
+"If you'll send any one with me through the house, Miss Martin," began
+Magennis, in a tone of much subdued meaning--"No, sir," broke she
+in--"no, sir, I'll give no such order. You have already had my solemn
+word of honor, assuring you that there was not any one concealed
+here. The same incredulous disrespect you have shown to my word would
+accompany whatever direction I gave to my servants. Go wherever you
+please; for the time you are the master here. Mark me, sir," said she,
+as, half crestfallen and in evident shame, he was about to move from
+the room--"mark me, sir, if I feel sorry that one who calls himself
+a gentleman should dishonor his station by discrediting the word, the
+plighted word, of a lady, yet I can forgive much to him whose feelings
+are under the impulse of passion. But how shall I speak my contempt
+for _you_,"--and she turned a withering look of scorn on the men who
+followed him,--"for you, who have dared to come here to insult me,--I,
+that if you had the least spark of honest manhood in your natures, you
+had died rather than have offended? Is this your requital for the part I
+have borne amongst you? Is it thus that you repay the devotion by which
+I have squandered all that I possessed, and would have given my life,
+too, for you and yours? Is it thus, think you, that your mothers and
+wives and sisters would requite me? Or will they welcome you back from
+your day's work, and say, Bravely done? You have insulted a lone girl in
+her home, outraged the roof whence she never issued save to serve you,
+and taught her to believe that the taunts your enemies cast upon you,
+and which she once took as personal affronts to herself, that they are
+just and true, and as less than you merited. Go back, men," added she,
+in a voice trembling with emotion,--"go back, while it is time. Go back
+in shame, and let me never know who has dared to offer me this insult!"
+And she hid her face between her hands, and bent down her head upon her
+lap. For several minutes she remained thus, overwhelmed and absorbed by
+intensely painful emotion, and when she lifted up her head, and looked
+around, they were gone! A solemn silence reigned on every side; not a
+word, nor a footfall, could be heard. She rushed to the window just in
+time to see a number of men slowly entering the wood, amidst whom she
+recognized Magennis, leading his horse by the bridle, and following the
+others, with bent-down head and sorrowful mien.
+
+"Oh, thank Heaven for this!" cried she, passionately, as the tears
+gushed out and coursed down her face. "Thank Heaven that they are not as
+others call them--cold-hearted and treacherous, craven in their hour of
+trial, and cruel in the day of their vengeance! I knew them better!"
+It was long before she could sufficiently subdue her emotion to think
+calmly of what had occurred. At last she bethought her of Mr. Merl, and
+despatched a servant in his pursuit, with a polite request that he would
+return. The man came up with Merl as he had reached the small gate
+of the park, but no persuasions, no entreaties, could prevail on that
+gentleman to retrace his steps; nay, he was frank enough to say, "He
+had seen quite enough of the West," and to invoke something very unlike
+benediction on his head if he ever passed another day in Galway.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIX. MR. MERL'S "LAST" IRISH IMPRESSION
+
+Never once turning his head towards Cro' Martin, Mr. Merl set out for
+Oughterard, where, weary and footsore, he arrived that same evening. His
+first care was to take some refreshment; his next to order horses for
+Dublin early for the following morning. This done, he sat down to write
+to Captain Martin, to convey to him what Merl designated as a "piece of
+his mind," a phrase which, in popular currency, is always understood to
+imply the very reverse of any flattery. The truth was, Mr. Merl began to
+suspect that his Irish liens were a very bad investment, that property
+in that country was held under something like a double title, the one
+conferred by law, the other maintained by a resolute spirit and a stout
+heart; that parchments required to be seconded by pistols, and that he
+who owned an estate must always hold himself in readiness to fight for
+it.
+
+Now, these were all very unpalatable considerations. They rendered
+possession perilous, they made sale almost impossible. In the cant
+phrase of Ceylon, the Captain had sold him a wild elephant; or, to speak
+less figuratively, disposed of what he well knew the purchaser could
+never avail himself of. If Mr. Merl was an emblem of blandness and good
+temper at the play-table, courteous and conceding at every incident of
+the game, it was upon the very wise calculation that the politeness was
+profitable. The little irregularities that he pardoned all gave him an
+insight into the character of his antagonists; and where he appeared to
+have lost a battle, he had gained more than a victory in knowledge of
+the enemy.
+
+These blandishments were, however, no real part of the man's natural
+temperament, which was eminently distrustful and suspicious, wary to
+detect a blot, prompt and sharp to hit it. A vague, undefined impression
+had now come over him that the Captain had overreached him; that even if
+unincumbered,--which was far from the case,--this same estate was like a
+forfeited territory, which to own a man must assert his mastery with the
+strong hand of force. "I should like to see myself settling down amongst
+those savages," thought he, "collecting my rents with dragoons, or
+levying a fine with artillery. Property, indeed! You might as well
+convey to me by bill of sale the right over a drove of wild buffaloes in
+South America, or give me a title to a given number of tigers in Bengal.
+He'd be a bold man that would even venture to come and have a look at
+'his own.'"
+
+It was in this spirit, therefore, that he composed his epistle, which
+assuredly lacked nothing on the score of frankness and candor. All his
+"Irish impressions" had been unfavorable. He had eaten badly, he had
+slept worse; the travelling was rude, the climate detestable; and
+lastly, where he had expected to have been charmed with the ready
+wit, and amused with the racy humor of the people, he had only been
+terrified--terrified almost to death--by their wild demeanor, and a
+ferocity that made his heart quake. "Your cousin," said he,--"your
+cousin, whom, by the way, I only saw for a few minutes, seemed admirably
+adapted to the exigencies of the social state around her; and although
+ball practice has not been included amongst the ordinary items of young
+ladies' acquirements, I am satisfied that it might advantageously form
+part of an Irish education.
+
+"As to your offer of a seat in Parliament, I can only say," continued
+he, "that as the Member of Oughterard I should always feel as though I
+were seated over a barrel of gunpowder; while the very idea of meeting
+my constituency makes me shudder. I am, however, quite sensible of
+the honor intended me, both upon that score and in your proposal of
+my taking up my residence at Cro' Martin. The social elevation, and
+so forth, to ensue from such a course of proceeding would have this
+disadvantage,--it would not pay! No, Captain Martin, the settlement
+between us must stand upon another basis,--the very simple and
+matter-of-fact one called L s. d. I shall leave this to-morrow, and
+be in town, I hope, by Wednesday; you can, therefore, give your man of
+business, Mr. Saunders, his instructions to meet me at Wimpole's, and
+state what terms of liquidation he is prepared to offer. Suffice it for
+the present to say that I decline any arrangement which should transfer
+to me any portion of the estate. I declare to you, frankly, I'd
+not accept the whole of it on the condition of retaining the
+proprietorship."
+
+When Mr. Merl had just penned the last sentence, the door slowly and
+cautiously was opened behind him, and a very much carbuncled face
+protruded into the room. "Yes, that's himself," muttered a voice; and
+ere Merl had been able to detect the speaker, the door was closed. These
+casual interruptions to his privacy had so frequently occurred since the
+commencement of his tour, that he only included them amongst his other
+Irish "disagreeables;" and so he was preparing to enter on another
+paragraph, when a very decisive knock at the door startled him, and
+before he could say "Come in," a tall, red-faced, vulgar-looking man,
+somewhat stooped in the shoulders, and with that blear-eyed watery
+expression so distinctive in hard drinkers, slowly entered, and shutting
+the door behind him, advanced to the fire.
+
+"My name, sir, is Brierley," said he, with a full, rich brogue.
+
+"Brierley--Brierley--never heard of Brierley before," said Mr. Merl,
+affecting a flippant ease that was very remote from his heart.
+
+"Better late than never, sir," rejoined the other, coolly seating
+himself, and crossing his arms on his breast. "I have come here on the
+part of my friend Tom,--Mr. Magennis, I mean,--of Barnagheela, who told
+me to track you out."
+
+"Much obliged, I'm sure, for the attention," said Merl, with an assumed
+smartness.
+
+"That 's all right; so you should," continued Brierley. "Tom told
+me that you were present at Cro' Martin when he was outraged and
+insulted,--by a female of course, or he wouldn't be making a complaint
+of it now,--and as he is not the man that ever lay under a thing of the
+kind, or ever will, he sent me here to you, to arrange where you 'd like
+to have it, and when."
+
+"To have what?" asked Merl, with a look of unfeigned terror.
+
+"Baythershin! how dull we are!" said Mr. Brierley, with a finger to his
+very red nose. "Sure it's not thinking of the King's Bench you are, that
+you want me to speak clearer."
+
+"I want to know your meaning, sir,--if you have a meaning."
+
+"Be cool, honey; keep yourself cool. Without you happen to find that
+warmth raises your heart, I 'd say again, be cool. I've one simple
+question to ask you,"--here he dropped his voice to a low, cautious
+whisper,--"Will ye blaze?"
+
+"Will I what?" cried Merl.
+
+Mr. Brierley arose, and drawing himself up to his full height, extended
+his arm in the attitude of one taking aim with a pistol. "Eh!" cried he,
+"you comprehend me now, don't you?"
+
+"Fight--fight a duel!" exclaimed Merl, aloud.
+
+"Whisht! whisht! speak lower," said Brierley; "there's maybe a chap
+listening at the door this minute!"
+
+Accepting the intimation in a very different spirit from that in
+which it was offered, Merl rushed to the door, and threw it wide open.
+"Waiter!--landlord!--house!--waiter!" screamed he, at the top of his
+voice. And in an instant three or four slovenly-looking fellows, with
+dirty napkins in dirtier hands, surrounded him.
+
+"What is it, your honer?--what is it?" asked they, in a breath.
+
+"Don't you hear what the gentleman's asking for?" said Brierley, with a
+half-serious face. "He wants a chaise-to the door as quick as lightning.
+He 's off this minute."
+
+"Yes, by Jupiter! that I am," said Merl, wiping the perspiration from
+his forehead.
+
+"Take your last look at the West, dear, as you pass the Shannon, for I
+don't think you 'll ever come so far again," said Brierley, with a grin,
+as he moved by him to descend the stairs.
+
+"If I do, may--" But the slam of his room-door, and the rattle of the
+key as he locked it, cut short Mr. Merl's denunciation.
+
+In less than half an hour afterwards a yellow post-chaise left the
+"Martin Arms" at full speed, a wild yell of insult and derision greeting
+it as it swept by, showing how the Oughterard public appreciated its
+inmate!
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XX. SOMETHING NOT EXACTLY FLIRTATION.
+
+Most travelled reader, have you ever stood upon the plateau at the foot
+of the Alten-Schloss in Baden, just before sunset, and seen the golden
+glory spread out like a sheen over the vast plain beneath you, with
+waving forests, the meandering Rhine, and the blue Vosges mountains
+beyond all? It is a noble landscape, where every feature is bold, and
+throughout which light and shade alternate in broad, effective masses,
+showing that you are gazing on a scene of great extent, and taking in
+miles of country with your eye. It is essentially German, too, in its
+characteristics. The swelling undulations of the soil, the deep, dark
+forests, the picturesque homesteads, with shadowy eaves and carved
+quaint balconies, the great gigantic wagons slowly toiling through the
+narrow lanes, over which the "Lindens" spread a leafy canopy,--all are
+of the Vaterland.
+
+Some fancied resemblance--it was in reality no more--to a view from a
+window at Cro' Martin had especially endeared this spot to Martin, who
+regularly was carried up each evening to pass an hour or so, dreaming
+away in that half-unconsciousness to which his malady had reduced him.
+There he sat, scarcely a remnant of his former self, a leaden dulness
+in his eye, and a massive immobility in the features which once were
+plastic with every passing mood that stirred him. The clasped hands and
+slightly bent-down head gave a character of patient, unresisting meaning
+to his figure, which the few words he dropped from time to time seemed
+to confirm.
+
+At a little distance off, and on the very verge of the cliff, Kate
+Henderson was seated sketching; and behind her, occasionally turning to
+walk up and down the terraced space, was Massingbred, once more in full
+health, and bearing in appearance the signs of his old, impatient humor.
+Throwing away his half-smoked cigar, and with a face whose expression
+betokened the very opposite of all calm and ease of mind, he drew nigh
+to where she sat, and watched her over her shoulder. For a while she
+worked away without noticing his presence. At last she turned slightly
+about, and looking up at him, said, "You see, it's very nearly
+finished."
+
+[Illustration: 232]
+
+"Well, and what then?" asked he, bluntly.
+
+"Do you forget that I gave you until that time to change your opinion?
+that when I was shadowing in this foreground I said, 'Wait 'till I have
+done this sketch, and see if you be of the same mind,' and you agreed?"
+
+"This might be very pleasant trifling if nothing were at stake, Miss
+Henderson," said he; "but remember that I cannot hold all my worldly
+chances as cheaply as _you_ seem to do them."
+
+"Light another cigar, and sit down here beside me,--I don't dislike
+smoke, and it may, perchance, be a peace calumet between us; and let us
+talk, if possible, reasonably and calmly."
+
+He obeyed like one who seemed to feel that her word was a command, and
+sat down on the cliff at her side.
+
+"There, now," said she, "be useful; hold that color-case for me, and
+give me your most critical counsel. Do you like my sketch?"
+
+"Very much indeed."
+
+"Where do you find fault with it? There must be a fault, or your
+criticism is worth nothing."
+
+"Its greatest blemish in my eyes is the time it has occupied you. Since
+you began it you have very rarely condescended to speak of anything
+else."
+
+"A most unjust speech, and an ungrateful one. It was when throwing in
+those trees yonder, I persuaded you to recall your farewell address to
+your borough friends; it was the same day that I sketched that figure
+there, that I showed you the great mistake of your present life. There
+is no greater error, believe me, than supposing that a Parliamentary
+success, like a social one, can be achieved by mere brilliancy. Party
+is an army, and you must serve in the ranks before you can wear your
+epaulets."
+
+"I have told you already,--I tell you again,--I 'm tired of the theme
+that has myself alone for its object."
+
+"Of whom would you speak, then?" said she, still intently busied with
+her drawing.
+
+"You ask me when you know well of whom," said he, hurriedly. "Nay, no
+menaces; I could not if I would be silent. It is impossible for me any
+longer to continue this struggle with myself. Here now, before I leave
+this spot, you shall answer me--" He stopped suddenly, as though he had
+said more than he intended, or more than he well knew how to continue.
+
+"Go on," said she, calmly. And her fingers never trembled as they held
+the brush.
+
+"I confess I do envy that tranquil spirit of yours," said he, bitterly.
+"It is such a triumph to be calm, cold, and impassive at a moment when
+others feel their reason tottering and their brain a chaos."
+
+"There is nothing so easy, sir," said she, proudly. "All that I can
+boast of is not to have indulged in illusions which seem to have a charm
+for _you_. You say you want explicit-ness. You shall have it. There was
+one condition on which I offered you my friendship and my advice. You
+accepted the bargain, and we were friends. After a while you came and
+said that you rued your compact; that you discovered your feelings for
+me went further; that mere friendship, as you phrased it, would not
+suffice--"
+
+"I told you, rather," broke he in, "that I wished to put that feeling to
+the last test, by linking your fortune with my own forever."
+
+"Very well, I accept that version. You offered to make me your wife, and
+in return, I asked you to retract your words,--to suffer our relations
+to continue on their old footing, nor subject me to the necessity of an
+explanation painful to both of us. For a while you consented; now you
+seem impatient at your concession, and ask me to resume the subject. Be
+it so, but for the last time."
+
+Massingbred's cheeks grew deadly pale, but he never uttered a word.
+
+After a second's pause, she resumed: "Your affections are less engaged
+in this case than you think. You would make me your wife just as you
+would do anything else that gave a bold defiance to the world, to show
+a consciousness of your own power, to break down any obstacle, and make
+the prejudices or opinions of society give way before you. You have
+energy and self-esteem enough to make this succeed. Your wife--albeit
+the steward's daughter--the governess! would be received, invited,
+visited, and the rest of it; and so far as _you_ were concerned the
+triumph would be complete. Now, however, turn a little attention to the
+other side of the medal. What is to requite _me_ for all this courtesy
+on sufferance, all this mockery of consideration? Where am I to find my
+friendships, where even discover my duties? You only know of one kind
+of pride, that of station and social eminence. I can tell you there is
+another, loftier far,--the consciousness that no inequality of position
+can obliterate, what I feel and know in myself of superiority to those
+fine ladies whose favorable notice you would entreat for me. Smile at
+the vanity of this declaration if you like, sir, but, at least, own
+that I am consistent; for I am prouder in the independence of my present
+dependence than I should be in all the state of Mr. Massingbred's wife.
+You can see, therefore, that I could not accept this change as the great
+elevation you would deem it. You would be stooping to raise one who
+could never persuade herself that she was exalted. I am well aware that
+inequality of one sort or another is the condition of most marriages.
+The rank of one compensates for the wealth of the other. Here it is
+affluence and age, there it is beauty and poverty. People treat the
+question in a good commercial spirit, and balance the profit and loss
+like tradesfolk; but even in this sense our compact would be impossible,
+since _you_ would endow me with what has no value in my eyes, and _I_,
+worse off still, have absolutely nothing to give in return."
+
+"Give me your love, dearest Kate," cried he, "and, supported by that,
+you shall see that I deserve it. Believe me, it is your own proud spirit
+that exaggerates the difficulties that would await us in society."
+
+"I should scorn myself if I thought of them," broke she in, haughtily;
+"and remember, sir, these are not the words of one who speaks in
+ignorance. I, too, have seen that great world, on which your affections
+are so fixed. I have mixed with it, and know it. Notwithstanding all
+the cant of moralists, I do not believe it to be more hollow or
+more heartless than other classes. Its great besetting sin is not of
+self-growth, for it comes of the slavish adulation offered by those
+beneath it,--the grovelling worship of the would-be fine folk, who
+would leave friends and home and hearth to be admitted even to the
+antechambers of the great. They who offer up this incense are in my eyes
+far more despicable than they who accept the sacrifice; but I would not
+cast my lot with either. Do not smile, sir, as if these were high-flown
+sentiments; they are the veriest commonplaces of one who loves
+commonplace, who neither seeks affections with coronets nor friendships
+in gold coaches, but who would still less be of that herd--mute,
+astonished, and awe-struck--who worship them!"
+
+"You deem me, then, deficient in this same independence of spirit?"
+cried Massingbred, half indignantly.
+
+"I certainly do not accept your intention of marrying beneath you as a
+proof of it. Must I again tell you, sir, that in such cases it is the
+poor, weak, patient, forgotten woman pays all the penalty, and that, in
+the very conflict with the world the man has his reward?"
+
+"If you loved me, Kate," said he, in a tone of deep sorrow, "it is not
+thus you would discuss this question."
+
+She made no reply, but bending down lower over her drawing, worked away
+with increased rapidity.
+
+"Still," cried he, passionately, "I am not to be deterred by a defeat.
+Tell me, at least, how I can win that love, which is to me the great
+prize of life. You read my faults, you see my shortcomings clearly
+enough; be equally just, then, to anything there is of good or hopeful
+about me. Do this, Kate, and I will put my fate upon the issue."
+
+"In plain words," said she, calmly, "you ask me what manner of man I
+would consent to marry. I 'll tell you. One who with ability enough
+to attain any station, and talents to gain any eminence, has lived
+satisfied with that in which he was born; one who has made the
+independence of his character so felt by the world that his actions have
+been regarded as standards, a man of honor and of his word; employing
+his knowledge of life, not for the purposes of overreaching, but for
+self-correction and improvement; well bred enough to be a peer, simple
+as a peasant; such a man, in fact, as could afford to marry a governess,
+and, while elevating her to his station, never compromise his own with
+his equals. I don't flatter myself," said she, smiling, "that I 'm
+likely to draw this prize; but I console myself by thinking that I could
+not accept aught beneath it as great fortune. I see, sir, the humility
+of my pretensions amuses you, and it is all the better for both of us if
+we can treat these things jestingly."
+
+"Nay, Kate, you are unfair--unjust," broke in Mas-singbred.
+
+"Mr. Martin begins to feel it chilly, Miss Henderson," said a servant at
+this moment. "Shall we return to the hotel?"
+
+"Yes, by all means," said she, rising hastily. The next instant she
+was busily engaged shawling and muffling the sick man, who accepted her
+attentions with the submissive-ness of a child.
+
+"That will do, Molly, thank you, darling," said he, in a feeble voice;
+"you are so kind, so good to me."
+
+"The evening is fresh, sir, almost cold," said she.
+
+"Yes, dear, the climate is not what it used to be. We have cut down
+too many of those trees, Molly, yonder." And he pointed with his thin
+fingers towards the Rhine. "We have thinned the wood overmuch, but
+they'll grow again, dear, though I shall not be here to see them."
+
+"He thinks I am his niece," whispered Kate, "and fancies himself at Cro'
+Martin."
+
+"I suppose they'll advise my trying a warm country, Molly, a milder
+air," muttered he, as they slowly carried him along. "But home, after
+all, is home; one likes to see the old faces and the old objects around
+them,--all the more when about to leave them forever!" And as the last
+words came, two heavy tears stole slowly along his cheeks, and his
+pale lips quivered with emotion. Now speaking in a low, weak voice to
+himself, now sighing heavily, as though in deep depression, he was borne
+along towards the hotel. Nor did the gay and noisy groups which thronged
+the thoroughfares arouse him. He saw them, but seemed not to heed them.
+His dreary gaze wandered over the brilliant panorama without interest or
+speculation. Some painful and difficult thoughts, perhaps, did all these
+unaccustomed sights and sounds bring across his mind, embarrassing him
+to reconcile their presence with the scene he fancied himself beholding;
+but even these impressions were faint and fleeting.
+
+As they turned to cross the little rustic bridge in front of the hotel,
+a knot of persons moved off the path to make way for them, one of whom
+fixed his eyes steadily on the sick man, gazing with the keen scrutiny
+of intense interest; then suddenly recalling himself to recollection, he
+hastily retreated within the group.
+
+"You are right," muttered he to one near him, "he _is_ 'booked;' my bond
+will come due before the month ends."
+
+"And you'll be an estated gent, Herman, eh?" said a very dark-eyed,
+hook-nosed man at his side.
+
+"Well, I hope I shall act the part as well as my neighbors," said Mr.
+Merl, with that mingled assurance and humility that made up his manner.
+
+"Was n't that Massingbred that followed them,--he that made the famous
+speech the other day in Parliament?"
+
+"Yes," said Merl. "I 've got a bit of 'stiff' with his endorsement in my
+pocket this minute for one hundred and fifty."
+
+"What's it worth, Merl?"
+
+"Perhaps ten shillings; but I 'd not part with it quite so cheaply.
+He'll not always be an M.P., and we shall see if he can afford to
+swagger by an old acquaintance without so much as a 'How d' ye do?'"
+
+"There, he is coming back again," said the other. And at the same moment
+Massingbred walked slowly up to the spot, his easy smile upon his face,
+and his whole expression that of a careless, unburdened nature.
+
+"I just caught a glimpse of you as I passed, Merl," said he, with a
+familiar nod; "and you were exactly the man I wanted to see."
+
+"Too much honor, sir," said Merl, affecting a degree of haughty distance
+at the familiarity of this address.
+
+Massingbred smiled at the mock dignity, and went on; "I have something
+to say to you. Will you give me a call this evening at the Cour de Bade,
+say about nine or half-past?"
+
+"I have an engagement this evening."
+
+"Put it off, then, that's all, Master Merl, for mine is an important
+matter, and very nearly concerns yourself."
+
+Merl was silent. He would have liked much to display before his friends
+a little of the easy dash and swagger that he had just been exhibiting,
+to have shown them how cavalierly he could treat a rising statesman and
+a young Parliamentary star of the first order; but the question crossed
+him, Was it safe? what might the luxury cost him? "Am I to bring that
+little acceptance of yours along with me?" said he, in a half whisper,
+while a malicious sparkle twinkled in his eye.
+
+"Why not, man? Certainly, if it gives you the least pleasure in life;
+only don't be later than half-past nine." And with one of his sauciest
+laughs Massingbred moved away, leaving the Jew very far from content
+with "the situation."
+
+Merl, however, soon rallied. He had been amusing his friends, just
+before this interruption, with a narrative of his Irish journey: he now
+resumed the theme. All that he found faulty, all even that he deemed new
+or strange or unintelligible in that unhappy country, he had dressed up
+in the charming colors of his cockney vocabulary, and his hearers were
+worthy of him! There is but little temptation, however, to linger in
+their company, and so we leave them.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXI. LADY DOROTHEA
+
+The Cour de Bade, at which excellent hotel the Martins were installed,
+received on the day we have just chronicled a new arrival. He had come
+by the diligence, one of that undistinguishable ten thousand England
+sends off every week from her shores to represent her virtues or her
+vices, her oddities, vulgarities, and pretensions, to the critical eyes
+of continental Europe.
+
+Perfectly innocent of any foreign language, and with a delightful
+ambiguity as to the precise geography of where he stood, he succeeded,
+after some few failures, in finding out where the Martins stopped, and
+had now sent up his name to Lady Dorothea, that name being "Mr. Maurice
+Scanlan."
+
+Lady Dorothea Martin had given positive orders that except in the
+particular case of this individual she was not to be interrupted by any
+visitor. She glanced her eye at the card, and then handed it across the
+table to her son, who coolly read it, and threw it from him with the air
+of one saying to himself, "Here's more of it! more complication, more
+investigation, deeper research into my miserable difficulties, and
+consequently more unhappiness." The table at which they were seated was
+thickly covered with parchments, papers, documents, and letters of every
+shape and size. There were deeds, and bonds, and leases, rent-rolls,
+and valuations, and powers of attorney, and all the other imposing
+accessories of estated property. There were also voluminous bills of
+costs, formidable long columns of figures, "carried over" and "carried
+over" till the very eye of the reader wearied of the dread numerals and
+turned recklessly to meet the awful total at the bottom! Terrified by
+the menacing applications addressed to Mr. Martin on his son's account,
+and which arrived by every post, Lady Dorothea had resolved upon herself
+entering upon the whole state of the Captain's liabilities, as well as
+the complicated questions of the property generally.
+
+Distrust of her own powers was not in the number of her Ladyship's
+defects. Sufficiently affluent to be always able to surround herself
+with competent subordinates, she fancied--a not very uncommon error, by
+the way--that she individually accomplished all that she had obtained
+through another. Her taste in the fine arts, her skill in music, her
+excellence as a letter-writer, were all accomplishments in this wise;
+and it is not improbable that, had she been satisfied to accept her
+success in finance through a similar channel, the result might have
+proved just as fortunate. A shrinking dislike, however, to expose the
+moneyed circumstances of the family, and a feeling of dread as to the
+possible disclosures which should come out, prevented her from accepting
+such co-operation. She had, therefore, addressed herself to the task
+with no other aid than that of her son,--a partnership, it must be
+owned, which relieved her very little of her burden.
+
+Had the Captain been called away from the pleasures and amusements
+of life to investigate the dry records of some far-away cousin's
+embarrassments,--to dive into the wearisome narrative of
+money-borrowing, bill-renewing, and the rest of it, by one whom he had
+scarcely known or seen,--his manner and bearing could not possibly
+have betrayed stronger signs of utter weariness and apathy than he
+now exhibited. Smoking his cigar, and trimming his nails with a
+very magnificent penknife, he gave short and listless replies to her
+Ladyship's queries, and did but glance at the papers which from time to
+time she handed to him for explanation or inquiry.
+
+"So he is come at last!" exclaimed she, as the Captain threw down the
+visiting-card. "Shall we see him at once?"
+
+"By Jove! I think we've had enough of 'business,'as they call it, for
+one morning," cried he. "Here have we been since a little after eleven,
+and it is now four, and I am as sick of accounts and figures as though I
+were a Treasury clerk."
+
+"We have done next to nothing, after all!" said she, peevishly.
+
+"And I told you as much when you began," said he, lighting a fresh
+cigar. "There's no seeing one's way through these kind of things after
+the lapse of a year or two. Fordyce gets hold of the bills you gave
+Mossop, and Rawkins buys up some of the things you had given renewals
+for, and then all that trash you took in part payment of your
+acceptances turns up, some day or other, to be paid for; and what
+between the bills that never were to be negotiated--but somehow do get
+abroad--and the sums sent to meet others applied in quite a different
+direction, I'll lay eighty to fifty in tens or ponies there's no
+gentleman living ever mastered one of these embarrassments. One must be
+bred to it, my Lady, take my word for it. It's like being a crack rider
+or a poet,--it's born with a man. 'The Henderson,'" added he, after a
+pause, "she can do it, and I should like to see what she couldn't!"
+
+"I am curious to learn how you became acquainted with these financial
+abilities of Miss Henderson?" said Lady Dorothea, haughtily.
+
+"Simply enough. I was poring over these confounded accounts one day at
+Manheim, and I chanced to ask her a question,--something about compound
+interest, I think it was,--and so she came and looked over what I was
+doing, or rather endeavoring to do. It was that affair with Throgmorton,
+where I was to meet one third of the bills, and Merl and he were to
+look to the remainder; but there was a reservation that if Comus won the
+Oaks, I was to stand free--no, that's not it--if Comus won the double
+event--"
+
+"Never mind your stupid contract. What of Miss Henderson?" broke in Lady
+Dorothea.
+
+"Well, she came over, as I told you, and took up a pencil and began
+working away with all sorts of signs and crosses,--regular algebra, by
+Jove!--and in about five minutes out came the whole thing, all square,
+showing that I stood to win on either event, and came off splendidly
+if the double should turn up. 'I wish,' said I to her, 'you 'd just
+run your eye over my book and see how I stand.' She took it over to the
+fire, and before I could well believe she had glanced at it, she said:
+'This is all full of blunders. You have left yourself open to three
+casualties, any one of which will sweep away all your winnings. Take
+the odds on Roehampton, and lay on Slingsby a couple of hundred
+more,--three, if you can get it,--and you 'll be safe enough. And when
+you 've done that,' said she, 'I have another piece of counsel to give;
+but first say will you take it?' 'I give you my word upon it,' said
+I. 'Then it is this,' said she: 'make no more wagers on the turf. You
+haven't skill to make what is called a "good book," and you 'll always
+be a sufferer.'"
+
+"Did n't she vouchsafe to offer you her admirable assistance?" asked her
+Ladyship, with a sneer.
+
+"No, by Jove!" said he, not noticing the tone of sarcasm; "and when I
+asked her, 'Would not she afford me a little aid?' she quickly said,
+'Not on any account. You are now in a difficulty, and I willingly come
+forward to extricate you. Far different were the case should I conspire
+with you to place others in a similar predicament. Besides, I have your
+pledge that you have now done with these transactions, and forever.'"
+
+"What an admirable monitor! One only wonders how so much morality
+coexists with such very intimate knowledge of ignoble pursuits."
+
+"By Jove! she knows everything," broke in the Captain. "Such a canter as
+she gave me t' other morning about idleness and the rest of it, saying
+how I ought to study Hindostanee, and get a staff appointment, and
+so on,--that every one ought to place himself above the accidents of
+fortune; and when I said something about having no opportunity at hand,
+she replied, 'Never complain of that; begin with _me_. I know quite
+enough to initiate you; and as to Sanscrit, I 'm rather "up" in it.'"
+
+"I trust you accepted the offer?" said her Ladyship, with an ambiguous
+smile.
+
+"Well, I can't say I did. I hate work,--at least that kind of work.
+Besides, one doesn't like to come out 'stupid' in these kind of things,
+and so I merely said, 'I 'd think of it--very kind of her,' and so on."
+
+"Did it never occur to you all this while," began her Ladyship; and then
+suddenly correcting herself, she stopped short, and said, "By the way,
+Mr. Scanlan is waiting for his answer. Ring the bell, and let him come
+in."
+
+Perhaps it was the imperfect recollection of that eminent
+individual,--perhaps the altered circumstances in which she now saw him,
+and possibly some actual changes in the man himself,--but really Lady
+Dorothea almost started with surprise as he entered the room, dressed
+in a dark pelisse, richly braided and frogged, an embroidered
+travelling-cap in his hand, and an incipient moustache on his upper
+lip,--all evidencing how rapidly he had turned his foreign experiences
+to advantage. There was, too, in his address a certain confident
+assurance that told how quickly the habits of the "Table d'hote" had
+impressed him, and how instantaneously his nature had imbibed the vulgar
+ease of the "Continent."
+
+"You have just arrived, Mr. Scanlan?" said her Ladyship, haughtily, and
+not a little provoked at the shake-hand salutation her son had accorded
+him.
+
+"Yes, my Lady, this instant, and such a journey as we 've had! No water
+on the Rhine for the steamers; and then, when we took to the land, a
+perfect deluge of rain, that nearly swept us away. At Eisleben, or some
+such name, we had an upset."
+
+"What day did you leave Ireland?" asked she, in utter indifference as to
+the casualty.
+
+"Tuesday fortnight last, my Lady. I was detained two days in Dublin
+making searches--"
+
+"Have you brought us any letters, sir?"
+
+"One from Miss Mary, my Lady, and another from Mr. Repton--very pressing
+he said it was. I hope Mr. Martin is better? Your Ladyship's last--"
+
+"Not much improvement," said she, stiffly, while her thin lips were
+compressed with an expression that might mean pride or sorrow, or both.
+
+"And the country, sir? How did you leave it looking?"
+
+"Pretty well, my Lady. More frightened than hurt, as a body might say.
+They 've had a severe winter, and a great deal of sickness; the rains,
+too, have done a deal of mischief; but on the whole matters are looking
+up again."
+
+"Will the rents be paid, sir?" asked she, sharply.
+
+"Indeed, I hope so, my Lady. Some, of course, will be backward, and beg
+for time, and a few more will take advantage of Magennis's success, and
+strive to fight us off."
+
+"There must have been some gross mismanagement in that business, sir,"
+broke in her Ladyship. "Had I been at home, I promise you the matter
+would have ended differently."
+
+"Mr. Repton directed all the proceedings himself, my Lady. He conferred
+with Miss Mary."
+
+"What could a young lady know about such matters?" said she, angrily.
+"Any prospect of a tenant for the house, sir?"
+
+"If your Ladyship really decides on not going back--"
+
+"Not the slightest intention of doing so, sir. If it depended upon
+me, I'd rather pull it down and sell the materials than return to live
+there. You know yourself, sir, the utter barbarism we were obliged to
+submit to. No intercourse with the world--no society--very frequently
+no communication by post. Surrounded by a set of ragged creatures, all
+importunity and idleness, at one moment all defiance and insolence, at
+the next crawling and abject. But it is really a theme I cannot dwell
+upon. Give me your letters, sir, and let me see you this evening." And
+taking the papers from his hand, she swept out of the room in a haughty
+state.
+
+The Captain and Mr. Scanlan exchanged looks, and were silent, but their
+glances were far more intelligible than aught either of them would have
+ventured to say aloud; and when the attorney's eyes, having followed her
+Ladyship to the door, turned and rested on the Captain, the other gave a
+brief short nod of assent, as though to say, "Yes, you are right; she's
+just the same as ever."
+
+"And _you_, Captain," said Scanlan, in his tone of natural
+familiarity,--"how is the world treating _you?_"
+
+"Devilish badly, Master Scanlan."
+
+"Why, what is it doing, then?"
+
+"I'll tell you what it's doing! It's charging me fifty--ay, sixty per
+cent; it's protesting my bills, stimulating my blessed creditors to
+proceed against me, worrying my very life out of me with letters.
+Letters to the governor, letters to the Horse Guards, and, last of all,
+it has just lamed Bonesetter, the horse 'I stood to win' on for the
+Chester Cup, I would n't have taken four thousand for my book yesterday
+morning!"
+
+"Bad news all this."
+
+"I believe you," said he, lighting a cigar, and throwing another across
+the table to Scanlan. "It's just bad news, and I have nothing else for
+many a long day past. A fellow of your sort, Master Maurice, punting
+away at county races and small sweepstakes, has a precious deal better
+time of it than a captain of the King's Hussars with his head and
+shoulders in the Fleet."
+
+"Come, come, who knows but luck will turn, Captain? Make a book on the
+Oaks."
+
+"I've done it; and I'm in for it, too," said the other, savagely.
+
+"Raise a few thousands, you can always sell a reversion."
+
+"I have done that also," said he, still more angrily.
+
+"With your position and advantages you could always marry well. If you'd
+just beat up the manufacturing districts, you'd get your eighty thousand
+as sure as I'm here! And then matrimony admits of a man's changing all
+his habits. He can sell off hunters, get rid of a racing stable, and
+twenty other little embarrassments, and only gain character by the
+economy."
+
+"I don't care a brass farthing for that part of the matter, Scanlan. No
+man shall dictate to me how I 'm to spend my money. Do you just find me
+the tin, and I 'll find the talent to scatter it."
+
+"If it can't be done by a post-obit--"
+
+"I tell you, sir," cried Martin, peevishly, "as I have told you before,
+that has been done. There is such a thing as pumping a well dry, is n't
+there?"
+
+Scanlan made a sudden exclamation of horror; and after a pause, said,
+"Already!"
+
+"Ay, sir, already!"
+
+"I had my suspicions about it," muttered Scanlan, gloomily.
+
+"You had? And how so, may I beg to ask?" said Martin, angrily.
+
+"I saw him down there, myself."
+
+"Saw whom? Whom are you talking of?"
+
+"Of that Jew, of course. Mr. Merl, he calls himself."
+
+A faint groan was all Martin's reply, as he turned away to hide his
+face.
+
+Scanlan watched him for a minute or so, and then resumed: "I guessed
+at once what he was at; _he_ never deceived me, talking about snipe and
+woodcocks, and pretending to care about hare-hunting. I saw my man at a
+glance. 'It's not sporting ever brought you down to these parts,' said
+I. '_Your_ game is young fellows, hard up for cash, willing to give up
+their birthright for a few thousands down, and never giving a second
+thought whether they paid twenty per cent, or a hundred and twenty.'
+Well, well, Captain, you ought to have told me all about it. There
+wasn't a man in Ireland could have putted you through like myself."
+
+"How do you mean?" cried Martin, hurriedly.
+
+"Sure, when he was down in the West, what was easier? Faix, if I had
+only had the wind of a word that matters were so bad, I 'd have had
+the papers out of him long ago. You shake your head as if you did n't
+believe me; but take my word for it, I 'm right, sir. I 'd put a quarrel
+on him."
+
+"_He'd_ not fight you!" said Martin, turning away in disappointment.
+
+"Maybe he wouldn't; but mightn't he be robbed? Couldn't he be waylaid,
+and carried off to the Islands? There was no need to kill him.
+Intimidation would do it all! I'd lay my head upon a block this minute
+if I would n't send him back to London without the back of a letter
+in his company; and what's more, a pledge that he 'd never tell what's
+happened to him!"
+
+"These cockney gents are more 'wide awake' than you suspect, Master
+Maurice, and the chances are that he never carried a single paper or
+parchment along with him."
+
+"Worse for him, then," said Scanlan. "He'd have to pass the rest of
+his days in the Arran Islands. But I'm not so sure he's as 'cute as you
+think him," added Maurice, after a pause. "He left a little note-book
+once behind him that told some strange stories, by all accounts."
+
+"What was that you speak of?" cried Martin, eagerly.
+
+"I did n't see it myself, but Simmy Crow told me of it; and that it was
+full of all the fellows he ruined,--how much he won from this man, what
+he carried off from that; and, moreover, there was your own name, and
+the date of the very evening that he finished you off! It was something
+in this wise: 'This night's work makes me an estated gentleman, _vice_
+Harry Martin, Esquire, retired upon less than half-pay!'"
+
+A terrible oath, uttered in all the vehemence of a malediction, burst
+from Martin, and seizing Scanlan's wrist, he shook his arm in an agony
+of passion.
+
+"I wish I had given you a hint about him, Master Scanlan," said he,
+savagely.
+
+"It's too late to think of it now, Captain," said the other; "the fellow
+is in Baden."
+
+"Here?" asked Martin.
+
+"Ay. He came up the Rhine along with me; but he never recognized me,--on
+account of my moustaches perhaps,--he took me for a Frenchman or a
+German, I think. We parted at Mayence, and I saw no more of him."
+
+"I would that I was to see no more of him!" said Martin, gloomily, as he
+walked into another room, banging the door heavily behind him.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXII. HOW PRIDE MEETS PRIDE
+
+Kate Henderson sat alone in her room reading a letter from her father,
+her thoughtful brow a shade more serious perhaps than its wont, and at
+times a faint, half-sickly smile moving her dimpled cheek. The interests
+of our story have no concern with that letter, save passingly, nor do
+we regret it. Enough, if we say it was in reply to one of her own,
+requesting permission to return home, until, as she phrased it, she
+could "obtain another service." That the request had met scant favor was
+easy to see, as, folding up the letter, she laid it down beside her with
+a sigh and a muttered "I thought as much!--'So long as her Ladyship
+is pleased to accept of your services,'" said she, repeating aloud an
+expression of the writer. "Well, I suppose he's right; such is the true
+reading of the compact, as it is of every compact where there is wealth
+on one side, dependence on the other! Nor should I complain," said
+she, still more resolutely, "if these same services could be rendered
+toilfully, but costing nothing of self-sacrifice in honorable feeling. I
+could be a drudge--a slave--to-morrow; I could stoop to any labor; but I
+cannot--no, I cannot--descend to companionship! They who hire us," cried
+she, rising, and pacing the room in slow and measured tread, "have a
+right to our capacity. We are here to do their bidding; but they can
+lay no claim to that over which we ourselves have no control--our
+sympathies, our affections--we cannot sell these; we cannot always give
+them, even as a gift." She paused, and opening the letter, read it for
+some seconds, and then flinging it down with a haughty gesture, said,
+"'Nothing menial--nothing to complain of in my station!' Can he not see
+that there is no such servitude as that which drags out existence, by
+subjecting, not head and hands, but heart and soul, to the dictates of
+another? The menial--the menial has the best of it. Some stipulate that
+they are not to wear a livery; but what livery exacts such degradation
+as this?" And she shook the rich folds of her heavy silk dress as she
+spoke. The tears rose up and dimmed her eyes, but they were tears of
+offended pride, and as they stole slowly along her cheeks, her features
+acquired an expression of intense haughtiness. "They who train their
+children to this career are but sorry calculators!--educating them but
+to feel the bitter smart of their station, to see more clearly the wide
+gulf that separates them from what they live amongst!" said she, in a
+voice of deep emotion.
+
+"Her Ladyship, Miss Henderson," said a servant, throwing wide the door,
+and closing it after the entrance of Lady Dorothea, who swept into
+the room in her haughtiest of moods, and seated herself with all that
+preparation that betokened a visit of importance.
+
+"Take a seat, Miss Henderson," said she. And Kate obeyed in silence.
+"If in the course of what I shall have to say to you," resumed her
+Ladyship,--"if in what I shall feel it my _duty_ to say to you, I may
+be betrayed into any expression stronger than in a calmer moment would
+occur to me,--stronger in fact, than strict justice might warrant--"
+
+"I beg your Ladyship's pardon if I interrupt, but I would beg to
+remark--"
+
+"What?" said Lady Dorothea, proudly.
+
+"That simply your Ladyship's present caution is the best security for
+future propriety. I ask no other."
+
+"You presume too far, young lady. I cannot answer that _my_ temper may
+not reveal sentiments that my judgment or my breeding might prefer to
+keep in abeyance."
+
+"If the sentiments be there, my Lady, I should certainly say, better to
+avow them," said Kate, with an air of most impassive coldness.
+
+"I 'm not aware that I have asked your advice on that head, Miss
+Henderson," said she, almost insolently. "At the same time, your habits
+of late in this family may have suggested the delusion."
+
+"Will your Ladyship pardon me if I confess I do not understand you?"
+
+"You shall have little to complain of on that score, Miss Henderson;
+I shall not speak in riddles, depend upon it. Nor should that be an
+obstacle if your intelligence were only the equal of your ambition."
+
+"Now, indeed, is your Ladyship completely beyond me."
+
+"Had you felt that I was as much 'above' you, Miss Henderson, it were
+more to the purpose."
+
+"I sincerely hope that I have never forgotten all the deference I owe
+your Ladyship," said Kate. Nor could humble words have taken a more
+humble accent; and yet they availed little to conciliate her to whom
+they were addressed; nay, this very humility seemed to irritate and
+provoke her to a greater show of temper, as with an insolent laugh she
+said,--"This mockery of respect never imposed on we, young lady. I have
+been bred and born in a rank where real deference is so invariable that
+the fictitious article is soon detected, had there been any hardy enough
+to attempt it."
+
+Kate made no other answer to this speech than a deep inclination of her
+head. It might mean assent, submission, anything.
+
+"You may remember, Miss Henderson," said her Ladyship, with all the
+formality of a charge in her manner,--"you may remember that on the day
+I engaged your services you were obliging enough to furnish me with a
+brief summary of your acquirements." She paused, as if expecting some
+intimation of assent, and after an interval of a few seconds, Kate
+smiled, and said,--"It must have been a very meagre catalogue, my Lady."
+
+"Quite the reverse. It was a perfect marvel to me how you ever
+found time to store your mind with such varied information; and yet,
+notwithstanding that imposing array of accomplishments, I now find that
+your modesty--perhaps out of deference to my ignorance--withheld fully
+as many more."
+
+Kate's look of bewilderment at this speech was the only reply she made.
+
+"Oh, of course you do not understand me," said Lady Dorothea,
+sneeringly; "but I mean to be most explicit. Have you any recollection
+of the circumstance I allude to?"
+
+"I remember perfectly the day, madam, I waited on you for the first
+time."
+
+"That's exactly what I mean. Now, pray, has any portion of our discourse
+dwelt upon your mind?"
+
+"Yes, my Lady; a remark of your Ladyship's made a considerable
+impression upon me at the moment, and has continued frequently to rise
+to my recollection since that."
+
+"May I ask what it was?"
+
+"It was with reference to the treatment I had been so long accustomed
+to in the family of the Duchesse de Luygnes, and which your Ladyship
+characterized by an epithet I have never forgotten. At the time I
+thought it severe; I have learned to see it just. You called it an
+'irreparable mischief.' Your Ladyship said most truly."
+
+"I was never more convinced of the fact than at this very moment," said
+Lady Dorothea, as a flush of anger covered her cheek. "The ill-judging
+condescension of your first protectors has left a very troublesome
+legacy for their successors. Your youth and inexperience--I do not
+desire to attribute it to anything more reprehensible--led you,
+probably, into an error regarding the privileges you thus enjoyed, and
+you fancied that you owed to your own claims what you were entirely
+indebted to from the favor of others."
+
+"I have no doubt that the observation of your Ladyship is quite
+correct," said Kate, calmly.
+
+"I sincerely wish that the conviction had impressed itself upon your
+conduct then," said Lady Dorothea, whose temper was never so outraged
+as by the other's self-possession. "Had such been the case, I might have
+spared myself the unpleasantness of my present task." Her passion
+was now fully roused, and with redoubled energy she continued:
+"Your ambition has taken a high flight, young lady, and, from the
+condescension by which I accorded you a certain degree of influence
+in this family, you have aspired to become its head. Do not
+affect any misconception of my meaning. My son has told me
+everything--everything--from your invaluable aid to him in his pecuniary
+difficulties, to your sage counsels on his betting-book; from the
+admirable advice you gave him as to his studies, to the disinterested
+offer of your own tuition. Be assured if _he_ has not understood all the
+advantages so generously presented to him, I, at least, appreciate them
+fully. I must acknowledge you have played your game cleverly, and you
+have made the mock independence of your character the mask of your
+designs. With another than myself you might have succeeded, too,"
+said her Ladyship, with a smile of bitter irony; "but _I_ have few
+self-delusions, Miss Henderson, nor is there amongst the number that of
+believing that any one serves me, in any capacity, from any devotion
+to my own person. I natter myself, at least, that I have so much of
+humility."
+
+"If I understand your Ladyship aright, I am charged with some designs on
+Captain Martin?" said Kate, calmly.
+
+"Yes; precisely so," said Lady Dorothea, haughtily.
+
+"I can only protest that I am innocent of all such, my Lady," said she,
+with an expression of great deference. "It is a charge that does not
+admit of any other refutation, since, if I appeal to my conduct, your
+Ladyship's suspicions would not exculpate me."
+
+"Certainly not."
+
+"I thought so. What, then, can I adduce? I'm sure your Ladyship's
+own delicacy will see that this is not a case where testimony can be
+invoked. I cannot--you would not ask me to--require an acquittal from
+the lips of Captain Martin himself; humble as I stand here, my Lady, you
+never could mean to expose me to this humiliation." For the first time
+did her voice falter, and a sickly paleness came over her as she uttered
+the last words.
+
+"The humiliation which you had intended for this family, Miss Henderson,
+is alone what demands consideration from _me_. If what you call your
+exculpation requires Captain Martin's presence, I confess I see no
+objection to it."
+
+"It is only, then, because your Ladyship is angry with me that you could
+bring yourself to think so, especially since another and much easier
+solution of the difficulty offers itself."
+
+"How so? What do you mean?"
+
+"To send me home, madam."
+
+"I understand you, young lady. I am to send you back to your father's
+house as one whose presence here was too dangerous, whose attractions
+could only be resisted by means of absence and distance. A very
+interesting martyrdom might have been made of it, I 've no doubt, and
+even some speculation as to the conduct of a young gentleman so suddenly
+bereaved of the object of his affections. But all this is much too
+dignified for me. _My_ son shall be taught to respect himself without
+the intervention of any contrivance."
+
+[Illustration: 256]
+
+As she uttered the last words, she arose and approached the bell.
+
+"Your Ladyship surely is not going--"
+
+"I am going to send for Captain Martin, Miss Henderson."
+
+"Do not, I entreat of you,--I implore your Ladyship," cried Kate, with
+her clasped hands trembling as she spoke.
+
+"This agitation is not without a cause, and would alone decide me to
+call for my son."
+
+"If I have ever deserved well at your hands, my Lady,--if I have served
+you faithfully in anything,--if my devotion has lightened you of one
+care, or aided you through one difficulty,--spare me, oh, spare me, I
+beseech you, this--degradation!"
+
+"I have a higher consideration to consult here, Miss Henderson, than
+any which can have reference to you." She pulled the bell violently, and
+while her hand still held the cord, the servant entered. "Tell Captain
+Martin to come here," said she, and sat down.
+
+Kate leaned her arm upon the chimney-piece, and, resting her head on it,
+never uttered a word.
+
+For several minutes the silence was unbroken on either side. At last
+Lady Dorothea started suddenly, and said,--"We cannot receive Captain
+Martin here."
+
+"Your Ladyship is full of consideration," said Kate, bitterly. "For a
+moment I had thought it was only an additional humiliation to which you
+had destined me."
+
+"Follow me into the drawing-room, Miss Henderson," said Lady Dorothea,
+proudly, as she left the room. And with slow, submissive mien Kate
+quitted the chamber, and walked after her.
+
+Scarcely had the door of the drawing-room been closed upon them than it
+was re-opened to admit Captain Martin. He was booted and spurred for
+his afternoon canter, and seemed in no wise pleased at the sudden
+interruption to his project.
+
+"They said you wanted me," cried he; "and here have I been searching for
+you in your dressing-room, and all over the house."
+
+"I desire to speak with you," said she, proudly; and she motioned to a
+chair.
+
+"I trust the _seance_ is to be a brief one, otherwise I 'll beg a
+postponement," said he, half laughingly. Then turning his glance towards
+Kate, he remarked for the first time the deathlike color of her face,
+and an expression of repressed suffering that all her self-control
+could not conceal. "Has anything happened? What is it?" said he, in a
+half-whisper.
+
+But she never replied, nor even seemed to heed his question.
+
+"Tell me, I beseech you," cried he, turning to Lady Dorothea,--"tell me,
+has anything gone wrong?"
+
+"It is precisely on that account I have sent for you, Captain Martin,"
+said her Ladyship, as she assigned to him a seat with a motion of her
+hand. "It is because a great deal has gone wrong here--and were it not
+for my vigilance, much more still likely to follow it--I have sent for
+you, sir, that you should hear from this young lady's lips a denial
+which, I own, has not satisfied _me_; nor shall it, till it be made
+in your presence and meet with your corroboration. Your looks, Miss
+Henderson," said she, addressing her, "would imply that all the
+suffering of the present moment falls to _your_ share; but I would beg
+you to bear in mind what a person in _my_ sphere must endure at the bare
+possibility of the event which now demands investigation."
+
+"Good heavens! will not you tell me what it is?" exclaimed Martin, in
+the last extremity of impatience.
+
+"I have sent for you, sir," resumed she, "that you should hear Miss
+Henderson declare that no attentions on your part--no assiduities, I
+should perhaps call them--have ever been addressed to her; that, in
+fact"--here her Ladyship became embarrassed in her explanation,--"that,
+in fact, those counsels--those very admirable aids to your conduct
+which she on so many occasions has vouchsafed to afford you--have had
+no object--no ulterior object, I should perhaps call it--and that
+your--your intercourse has ever been such as beseems the heir of Cro'
+Martin, and the daughter of the steward on that property!"
+
+"By Jove, I can make nothing of all this!" cried the Captain, whose
+bewildered looks fully corroborated the assertion.
+
+"Lady Dorothea, sir, requires you to assure her that I have never
+made love to you," said Kate Henderson, with a look of scorn that her
+Ladyship did not dare to reply to. "_I_," added she, "have already given
+my pledge on this subject. I trust that your testimony will not gainsay
+me."
+
+"Confound me if I can fathom it at all!" said he, more distracted than
+ever. "If you are alluding to the offer I made you--"
+
+"The offer you made," cried Lady Dorothea. "When?--how?--in what wise?"
+
+"No, no, I will speak out," said he, addressing Kate. "I am certain
+_you_ never divulged it; but I cannot accept that all the honorable
+dealing should be on one side only. Yes, my Lady, however you learned
+it, I cannot guess, but it is perfectly true; I asked Miss Henderson to
+be my wife, and she refused me."
+
+A low, faint sigh broke from Lady Dorothea, and she fell back into her
+chair.
+
+"She would have it,--it's not my fault,--you are witness it's not,"
+muttered he to Kate. But she motioned him in silence to the door, and
+then opening the window, that the fresh air might enter, stood silently
+beside the chair.
+
+A slight shivering shook her; and Lady Dorothea--her cheeks almost
+lividly pale--raised her eyes and fixed them on Kate Henderson.
+
+"You have had your triumph!" said she, in a low but firm voice.
+
+"I do not feel it such, madam," said Kate, calmly. "Nor is it in a
+moment of humiliation like this that a thought of triumph can enter."
+
+"Hear me,--stoop down lower. You can leave this--tomorrow, if you wish
+it."
+
+Kate bowed slowly in acquiescence.
+
+"I have no need to ask you that what has occurred here should never be
+mentioned."
+
+"You may trust me, madam."
+
+"I feel that I may. There--I am better--quite well, now! You may leave
+me." Kate courtesied deeply, and moved towards the door. "One word
+before you go. Will you answer me one question? I'll ask but one; but
+your answer must be full, or not at all."
+
+"So it shall be, madam. What is it?"
+
+"I want to know the reason--on what grounds--you declined the proposal
+of my son?"
+
+"For the same good reason, madam, that should have prevented his ever
+making it."
+
+"Disparity--inequality of station, you mean?"
+
+"Something like it, madam. Our union would have been both a blunder
+and a paradox. Each would have married beneath him!" And once more
+courtesying, and with an air of haughty dignity, Kate withdrew, and left
+her Ladyship to her own thoughts.
+
+Strange and conflicting were the same thoughts; at one moment
+stimulating her to projects of passionate vengeance, at the next
+suggesting the warmest measures of reconciliation and affection. These
+indeed predominated, for in her heart pride seemed the emblem of all
+that was great, noble, or exalted; and when she saw that sentiment,
+not fostered by the accidents of fortune, not associated with birth,
+lineage, and high station, but actually rising superior to the absence
+of all these, she almost felt a species of worship for one so gloriously
+endowed.
+
+"She might be a duchess!" was the only speech she uttered, and the words
+revealed a whole volume of her meditations. It was curious enough
+how completely all recollection of her son was merged and lost in the
+greater interest Kate's character supplied. But so is it frequently in
+life. The traits which most resemble our own are those we alone attach
+importance to, and what we fancy admiration of another is very often
+nothing more than the gratified contemplation of ourselves.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIII. MAURICE SCANLAN ADVISES WITH "HIS COUNSEL"
+
+Jack Massingbred sat in expectation of Mr. Merl's arrival till nigh ten
+o'clock; and if not manifesting any great degree of impatience at the
+delay, still showing unmistakable signs of uneasiness, as though the
+event were not destitute of some cause for anxiety. At last a note
+arrived to say that a sudden and imperative necessity to start at once
+for England would prevent Mr. Merl from keeping his appointment. "I
+shall be in town by Tuesday," continued the writer, "and if Captain
+Martin has any communication to make to me respecting his affairs, let
+it be addressed to Messrs. Twining and Scape's, solicitors, Furnival's
+Inn. I hope that with regard to your own matter, you will make suitable
+provision for the acceptance due on the ninth of next month. Any further
+renewal would prove a great inconvenience to yours
+
+"Very sincerely and to command,
+
+"Herman Merl."
+
+"Negotiations have ended ere they were opened, and war is proclaimed at
+once," said Massingbred, as he read over this brief epistle. "You may
+come forth, Master Scanlan," added he, opening the door of his bedroom,
+and admitting that gentleman. "Our Hebrew is an overmatch for us. He
+declines to appear."
+
+"Why so? How is that?" asked Scanlan.
+
+"There 's his note," said the other; "read and digest it."
+
+"This smacks of suspicion," said Scanlan. "He evidently suspects that we
+have concerted some scheme to entangle him, and he is resolved not to be
+caught."
+
+"Precisely; he 'll do nothing without advice. Well, well, if he but knew
+how unprepared we are, how utterly deficient not only in resources,
+but actually in the commonest information of our subject, he might have
+ventured here in all safety."
+
+"Has Captain Martin not put you in possession of the whole case, then?"
+
+"Why, my good Scanlan, the Captain knows nothing, actually nothing, of
+his difficulties. He has, it is true, a perfect conviction that he is
+out of his depth; but whether he be in five fathom water or fifty, he
+doesn't know; and, what 's stranger, he does n't care!"
+
+"After all, if it be over his head, I suppose it's pretty much the same
+thing," said Scanlan, with a bitter laugh.
+
+"I beg to offer my dissent to that doctrine," said Mas-singbred, gently.
+"Where the water is only just out of a man's depth, the shore is usually
+not very distant. Now, if we were quite certain such were the case here,
+we might hope to save him. If, on the contrary, he has gone down out
+of all sight of land--" He stopped, gazed steadily at Scanlan for a few
+seconds, and then in a lower tone, not devoid of a touch of anxiety,
+said, "Eh, do you really know this to be so?"
+
+"I'll tell you all I know, Mr. Massingbred," said he, as having turned
+the key in the door, he took his seat at the table. "And I 'll tell you,
+besides, how I came by the knowledge, and I 'll leave it to your own
+judgment to say what his chance is worth. When Merl was stopping at
+Kilkieran, he left there a little pocket-book, with memorandums of all
+his secret transactions. Mighty nice doings they were,--and profitable,
+too,--as you 'll perceive when you look over it."
+
+"You have it, then," cried Jack, eagerly.
+
+"Here it is," said he, producing the precious volume, and laying his
+hand firmly on it. "Here it is now. I got it under a pledge to hand
+it to himself, which I need n't tell you I never had the slightest
+intention of performing. It's not every day in the week one has the good
+luck to get a peep into the enemy's brief, and this is exactly what you
+'ll find here."
+
+Massingbred stretched out his hand to take the book, but Scanlan quietly
+replaced it in his pocket, and, with a dry and very peculiar smile,
+said,--"Have a little patience, sir. We must go regularly to work here.
+You shall see this book--you shall examine it--and even retain it--but
+it must be on conditions." "Oh, you may confide in me, Scanlan. Even
+if Mr. Merl were my friend,--which I assure you he is not,--I could not
+venture to betray _you_."
+
+"That's not exactly what I 'm thinking of, Mr. Massingbred. I 'm certain
+you 'd say nothing to Merl of what you saw here. My mind is easy enough
+upon that score."
+
+"Well, then, in what direction do your suspicions point?"
+
+"They 're not suspicions, sir," was the dry response.
+
+"Fears,--hesitations,--whatever you like to call them."
+
+"Are we on honor here, Mr. Massingbred?" said Scanlan, after a pause.
+
+"For myself, I say decidedly so," was the firm reply.
+
+"That will do, sir. I ask only one pledge, and I 'm sure you 'll not
+refuse it: if you should think, on reflection, that what I propose to
+you this evening is neither practicable nor advisable,--that, in fact,
+you could neither concur in it nor aid it,--that you'll never, so long
+as you live, divulge it to any one,--man, woman, or child. Have I that
+promise?"
+
+"I think I may safely say that."
+
+"Ay, but do you say it?"
+
+"I do; here is my promise."
+
+"That will do. I don't ask a word more. Now, Mr. Massingbred," said he,
+replacing the book on the table, "I 'll tell you in the fewest words I
+can how the case stands,--and brevity is essential, for we have not an
+hour to lose. Merl is gone to London about this business, and we
+'ll have to follow him. _He 'd_ be very glad to be rid of the affair
+to-morrow, and he 'll not waste many days till he is so. Read that bit
+there, sir," said he, pointing to a few closely written lines in the
+note-book.
+
+"Good heavens!" cried Jack, "this is downright impossible. This is a
+vile falsehood, devised for some infernal scheme of roguery. Who 'd
+believe such a trumpery piece of imposition? Ah, Scanlan, you are not
+the wily fellow I took you for. This same precious note-book was
+dropped as a decoy, as I once knew a certain noble lord to have left his
+betting-book behind him. An artful device, that can only succeed once,
+however. And you really believed all this?"
+
+"I did, and I do believe it," said Scanlan, firmly.
+
+"If you really say so, we must put the matter to the test. Captain
+Martin is here,--we 'll send for him, and ask him the question; but I
+must say I don't think your position will be a pleasant one after that
+reply is given."
+
+"I must remind you of your promise already, it seems," said Scanlan.
+"You are pledged to say nothing of this, if you cannot persuade yourself
+to act along with me in it."
+
+"Very true," said Massingbred, slowly; "but I never pledged myself to
+credit an impossibility."
+
+"I ask nothing of the kind. I only claim that you should adhere to what
+you have said already. If this statement be untrue, all my speculations
+about it fall to the ground at once. I am the dupe of a stale trick, and
+there's an end of it."
+
+"Ay, so far all well, Master Scanlan; but _I_ have no fancy to be
+associated in the deception. Can't you see that?"
+
+"I can, sir, and I do. But perhaps there may be a readier way of
+satisfying your doubts than calling for the Captain's evidence. There is
+a little page in this same volume devoted to one Mr. Massingbred. _You_
+surely may have some knowledge about _his_ affairs. Throw your eye over
+that, sir, and say what you think of it."
+
+Massingbred took the book in his hand and perused the place pointed out
+to him.
+
+"By Jove! this _is_ very strange," said he, after a pause. "Here is my
+betting-book on the St. Hubert all transcribed in full,--however the Jew
+boy got hold of it; and here 's mention of a blessed hundred-pound note,
+which, in less than five years, has grown to upwards of a thousand!"
+
+"And all true? All fact?"
+
+"Perfectly true,--most lamentable fact, Master Scanlan!
+How precise the scoundrel is in recording this loan as 'after supper at
+Dubos'!' Ay, and here again is my unlucky wager about Martingale for
+the 'Chester,' and the handicap with Armytage. Scanlan, I recant my
+rash impression. This is a real work of its great author! _Aut Merl--aut
+Diabolus_."
+
+"I could have sworn it," said Scanlan.
+
+"To be sure you could, man, and have done, ere this time o' day, fifty
+other things on fainter evidence. But let me tell you it requires strong
+testimony to make one believe that there should live such a consummate
+fool in the world as would sell his whole reversionary right to a
+splendid state of some twelve thousand--"
+
+"Fifteen at the lowest," broke in Scanlan.
+
+"Worse again. Fifteen thousand a year for twenty-two thousand seven
+hundred and sixty-four pounds sterling."
+
+"And he has done it."
+
+"No, no; the thing is utterly incredible, man. Any one must see that
+if he did want to make away with his inheritance, that he could have
+obtained ten, twenty times that sum amongst the tribe of Merl."
+
+"No doubt, if he were free to negotiate the transaction. But you 'll
+see, on looking over these pages, in what a network of debt he was
+involved,--how, as early as four years ago, at the Cape, he owed Merl
+large sums, lost at play, and borrowed at heavy interest. So that,
+at length, this same twenty-two thousand, assumed as paid for the
+reversion, was in reality but the balance of an immense demand for money
+lost, bills renewed, sums lent, debts discharged, and so on. But to
+avoid the legal difficulty of an 'immoral obligation,' the bale of the
+reversion is limited to this simple payment of twenty-two thousand--"
+
+"Seven hundred and sixty-four pounds, sir. Don't let us diminish the
+price by a fraction," said Massingbred. "Wonderful people ye are, to be
+sure; and whether in your talent for savings, or dislike for sausages,
+alike admirable and praiseworthy! What a strange circle do events
+observe, and how irrevocable is the law of the material, the stern rule
+of the moral world, decay, decomposition, and regeneration following
+on each other; and as great men's ashes beget grubs, so do illustrious
+houses generate in their rottenness the race of Herman Merls."
+
+Scanlan tried to smile at the rhapsodical conceit, but for some private
+reason of his own he did not relish nor enjoy it.
+
+"So, then, according to the record," said Massingbred, holding up the
+book, "there is an end of the 'Martins of Cro' Martin'?"
+
+"That's it, sir, in one word."
+
+"It is too shocking--too horrible to believe," said Mas-singbred, with
+more of sincerity than his manner usually displayed. "Eh, Scanlan,--is
+it not so?" added he, as waiting in vain for some show of concurrence.
+
+"I believe, however," said the other, "it's the history of every great
+family's downfall: small liabilities growing in secrecy to become heavy
+charges, severe pressure exerted by those out of whose pockets came
+eventually the loans to meet the difficulties,--shrewdness and rapacity
+on one side, folly and wastefulness on the other."
+
+"Ay, ay; but who ever heard of a whole estate disposed of for less than
+two years of its rental?"
+
+"That's exactly the case, sir," said he, in the same calm tone as
+before; "and what makes matters worse, we have little time to look out
+for expedients. Magennis will put us on our title at the new trial
+next assizes. Merl will take fright at the insecurity of his claim, and
+dispose of it,--Heaven knows to whom,--perhaps to that very league now
+formed to raise litigation against all the old tenures."
+
+"Stop, stop, Scanlan! There is quite enough difficulty before us,
+without conjuring up new complications," cried Massingbred. "Have you
+anything to suggest? What ought to be done here?"
+
+Scanlan was silent, and leaning his head on his hand seemed lost in
+thought.
+
+"Come, Scanlan, you 've thought over all this ere now. Tell me, man,
+what do you advise?"
+
+Scanlan was silent.
+
+"Out with it, Scanlan. I know, I feel that you have a resource in store
+against all these perils! Out with it, man."
+
+"Have I any need to remind you of your promise, Mr. Massingbred?" asked
+the other, stealthily.
+
+"Not the slightest, Scanlan. I never forget a pledge."
+
+"Very well, sir; that's enough," said Scanlan, speaking rapidly, and
+like one anxious to overcome his confusion by an effort. "We have just
+one thing to do. We must buy out Merl. Of course as reasonably as we
+can, but buy him out we must. What between his own short experiences of
+Ireland, and the exposure that any litigation is sure to bring with it,
+he's not likely to be hard to deal with, particularly when we are in
+possession, as I suppose we may be, through _your_ intimacy with the
+Captain, of all the secret history of these transactions. I take it for
+granted that he 'll be as glad of a settlement that keeps all 'snug,'
+as ourselves. Less than the twenty-two thousand we can't expect he'll
+take."
+
+"And how are we to raise that sum without Mr. Martin's concurrence?"
+
+"I wish that was the only difficulty," said Scanlan.
+
+"What do you mean?"
+
+"Just this: that in his present state no act of his would stand. Sure
+his mind is gone. There isn't a servant about him could n't swear to his
+fancies and imaginations. No, sir, the whole thing must be done amongst
+ourselves. I have eight thousand some hundred pounds of my own available
+at a moment; old Nelligan would readily--for an assignment of the
+Brewery and the Market Square--advance us ten thousand more;--the money,
+in short, could be had--more if we wanted it--the question--"
+
+"As to the dealing with Merl?" broke in Jack.
+
+"No, sir, not that, though of course it is a most important
+consideration."
+
+"Well, what then?"
+
+"As to the dealing with Maurice Scanlan, sir," said he, making a great
+effort. "There's the whole question in one word."
+
+"I don't see that there can be any grave obstacle against that. You know
+the property."
+
+"Every acre of it."
+
+"You know how you'd like your advance to be secured to you--on what part
+of the estate. The conditions, I am certain, might be fairly left in
+your own hands; I feel assured you'd not ask nor expect anything beyond
+what was equitable and just."
+
+"Mr. Massingbred, we might talk this way a twelvemonth, and never be a
+bit nearer our object than when we began," said Scanlan, resolutely. "I
+want two things, and I won't take less than the two together. One is to
+be secured in the agency of the estate, under nobody's control whatever
+but the Martins themselves. No Mister Repton to say 'Do this, sign
+that, seal the other.' I 'll have nobody over me but him that owns the
+property."
+
+"Well, and the other condition?"
+
+"The other--the other--" said Scanlan, growing very red--"the other, I
+suppose, will be made the great difficulty--at least, on my Lady's side.
+She 'll be bristling up about her uncle the Marquis, and her half-cousin
+the Duke, and she'll be throwing in my teeth who I am, and what I was,
+and all the rest of it, forgetting all the while where they 'll be if
+they reject my terms, and how much the most noble Viceroy will do for
+her when she has n't a roof over her head, and how many letters his
+Grace will write when she has n't a place to address them to,--not to
+say that the way they're treating the girl at this very moment shows
+how much they think of her as one of themselves, living with old Catty
+Broon, and cantering over the country without as much as a boy after
+her. Sure, if they were n't Pride itself, it's glad they might be
+that a--a--a respectable man, that is sure to be devoted to their own
+interests forever, and one that knows the estate well, and, moreover
+than that, that doesn't want to be going over to London,--no, nor even
+to Dublin,--that doesn't care a brass farthing for the castle and the
+lodge in the park,--that, in short, Mr. Massingbred, asks nothing for
+anybody, but is willing to trust to his industry and what he knows of
+life--There it is now,--there's my whole case," said he, stammering,
+and growing more and more embarrassed. "I haven't a word to add to it,
+except this: that if they'd rather be ruined entirely, left without
+stick or stone, roof or rafter in the world, than take my offer, they
+'ve nothing to blame but themselves and their own infernal pride!" And
+with this peroration, to deliver which cost him an effort like a small
+apoplexy, Maurice Scanlan sat down at the table, and crossed his arms on
+his breast like one prepared to await his verdict with a stout heart.
+
+At last, and with the start of one who "suddenly bethought him of a
+precaution that ought not to be neglected," he said,--"Of course, this is
+so far all between ourselves, for if I was to go up straight to my Lady,
+and say, 'I want to marry your niece,' I think I know what the answer
+would be."
+
+Although Massingbred had followed this rambling and incoherent effort
+at explanation with considerable attention, it was only by the very
+concluding words that he was quite certain of having comprehended
+its meaning. If we acknowledge that he felt almost astounded by the
+pretension, it is but fair to add that nothing in his manner or air
+betokened this feeling. Nay, he even by a slight gesture of the head
+invited the other to continue; and when the very abrupt conclusion did
+ensue, he sat patiently, as it were revolving the question in his own
+mind.
+
+Had Scanlan been waiting for the few words which from a jury-box
+determine a man's fate forever, he could not have suffered more acute
+anxiety than he felt while contemplating the other's calm and unmoved
+countenance. A bold, open rejection of his plan, a defiant repudiation
+of his presumption, would not probably have pained him more, if as much
+as the impassive quietness of Jack's demeanor.
+
+"If you think that this is a piece of impudence on my part, Mr.
+Massingbred,--if it's your opinion that in aspiring to be connected with
+the Martins I'm forgetting my place and my station, just say so at once.
+Tell it to me frankly, and I'll know how to bear it," said he, at last,
+when all further endurance had become impossible.
+
+"Nothing of the kind, my dear Scanlan," said Jack, smiling blandly.
+"Whatever snobbery once used to prevail on these subjects, we have come
+to live in a more generous age. The man of character, the man who unites
+an untarnished reputation to very considerable abilities, with talent to
+win any station, and virtues to adorn it, such a man wants no blazonry
+to illustrate his name, and it is mainly by such accessions that our
+English aristocracy, refreshed and invigorated as it is, preserves its
+great acknowledged superiority."
+
+It would have required a more acute critic than Maurice Scanlan to have
+detected the spirit in which this rhapsody was uttered. The apparent
+earnestness of the manner did not exactly consort with a certain
+pomposity of enunciation and an over-exactness in the tone of the
+declamation. On the whole Maurice did not like it. It smacked to his
+ears very like what he had often listened to in the Four Courts at the
+close of a "junior's" address; and there was a Nisi Prius jingle in it
+that sounded marvellously unlike conviction.
+
+"If, then," resumed Massingbred, "they who by the accidents of fortune,
+or the meritorious services of their forefathers, represent rather in
+their elevation the gratitude of their country than--"
+
+"I 'm sorry to interrupt you, sir,--indeed, I'm ashamed of myself for
+doing it,--for your remarks are beautiful, downright eloquent; but the
+truth is, this is a case touches me too closely to make me care for
+a grand speech about it. I 'd rather have just a few words--to the
+evidence, as one might say,--or a simple answer to a plain question, Can
+this thing be done?"
+
+"There's where you beat us, Scanlan. There's where we cannot approach
+you. You are practical. You reduce a matter at once to the simple
+dimension of efficacy first, then possibility, and with these two
+conditions before you you reject the fifty extraneous considerations,
+outlying contingencies, that distract and embarrass such fellows as me.
+
+"I have no pretension to abilities like yours, Mr. Massingbred," said
+Scanlan, with unassumed modesty.
+
+"Ah, Scanlan, yours are the true gifts, take my word for it!--the
+recognized currency by which a man obtains what he seeks for; and
+there never was an era in which such qualities bore a higher value. Our
+statesmen, our diplomatists, our essay-writers,--nay, our very poets,
+addressing themselves as they do to the correction of social wrongs and
+class inequalities,--they are all 'practical'! That is the type of our
+time, and future historians will talk of this as the 'Age of Fact'!"
+
+If one were to judge from Maurice Scanlan's face during the delivery of
+this peroration, it might be possibly inferred that he scarcely accepted
+the speech as an illustration in point, since anything less practical he
+had never listened to.
+
+"When I think," resumed he, "what a different effect I should have
+produced in the 'House' had I possessed this requisite! You, possibly,
+may be under the impression that I achieved a great success?"
+
+"Well, I did hear as much," said Scanlan, half doggedly.
+
+"Perhaps it was so. A first speech, you are aware, is always listened to
+indulgently; not so a second, especially if a man rises soon after his
+first effort. They begin to suspect they have got a talkative fellow,
+eager and ready to speak on every question; they dread that, and even if
+he be clever, they 'll vote him a bore!"
+
+"Faith! I don't wonder at it!" said Maurice, with a hearty sincerity in
+the tone.
+
+"Yet, after all, Scanlan, let us be just! How in Heaven's name, are men
+to become debaters, except by this same training? You require men not
+alone to be strong upon the mass of questions that come up in debate,
+but you expect them to be prompt with their explanations, always
+prepared with their replies. Not ransacking history, or searching
+through 'Hansard,' you want a man who, at the spur of the moment,
+can rise to defend, to explain, to simplify, or mayhap to assail, to
+denounce, to annihilate. Is n't that true?"
+
+"I don't want any such thing, sir!" said Scanlan, with a sulky
+determination that there was no misunderstanding.
+
+"You don't. Well, what _do_ you ask for?"
+
+"I'll tell you, sir, and in very few words, too, what I do _not_ ask
+for! I don't ask to be humbugged, listening to this, that, and the
+other, that I have nothing to say to; to hear how you failed or why you
+succeeded; what you did or what you could n't do. I put a plain case to
+you, and I wanted as plain an answer. And as to your flattering me about
+being practical, or whatever you call it, it's a clean waste of time,
+neither less nor more!"
+
+"The agency and the niece!" said Massingbred, with a calm solemnity that
+this speech had never disconcerted.
+
+"Them 's the conditions!" said Scanlan, reddening over face and
+forehead.
+
+"You 're a plucky fellow, Scanlan, and by Jove I like you for it!" said
+Massingbred. And for once there was a hearty sincerity in the way
+he spoke. "If a man _is_ to have a fall, let it be at least over a
+'rasper,' not be thrown over a furrow in a ploughed field! You fly
+at high game, but I'm far from saying you'll not succeed." And with a
+jocular laugh he turned away and left him.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIV. A CONSULTATION
+
+Jack Massingbred was one of those who, in questions of difficulty,
+resort to the pen in preference to personal interference. It was a fancy
+of his that he wrote better than he talked. Very probably he thought
+so because the contrary was the fact. On the present occasion another
+motive had also its influence. It was Lady Dorothea that he addressed,
+and he had no especial desire to commit himself to a direct interview.
+
+His object was to convey Mr. Scanlan's propositions,--to place them
+fully and intelligibly before her Ladyship without a syllable of comment
+on his own part, or one word which could be construed into advocacy or
+reprobation of them. In truth, had he been called upon for an opinion,
+it would have sorely puzzled him what to say. To rescue a large estate
+from ruin was, to be sure, a very considerable service, but to accept
+Maurice Scanlan as a near member of one's family seemed a very heavy
+price even for that. Still, if the young lady liked him, singular as the
+choice might appear, other objections need not be insurmountable. The
+Martins were very unlikely ever to make Ireland their residence again,
+they would see little or nothing of this same Scanlan connection, "and,
+after all," thought Jack, "if we can only keep the disagreeables of
+this life away from daily intercourse, only knowing them through the
+post-office and at rare intervals, the compact is not a bad one."
+
+Massingbred would have liked much to consult Miss Henderson upon the
+question itself, and also upon his manner of treating it; but to touch
+upon the point of a marriage of inequality with her, would have been
+dangerous ground. It was scarcely possible he could introduce the topic
+without dropping a word, or letting fall a remark she could not seize
+hold of. It was the theme, of all others, in which her sensitiveness
+was extreme; nor could he exactly say whether she sneered at a
+_mesalliance,_ or at the insolent tone of society regarding it.
+
+Again he bethought him of the ungraciousness of the task he had assumed,
+if, as was most probable, Lady Dorothea should feel Mr. Scanlan's
+pretensions an actual outrage. "She'll never forgive me for stating
+them, that's certain," said he; "but will she do so if I decline to
+declare them, or worse still, leave them to the vulgar interpretation
+Scanlan himself is sure to impart to them?" While he thus hesitated and
+debated with himself, now altering a phrase here, now changing a word
+there, Captain Martin entered the room, and threw himself into a chair
+with a more than ordinary amount of weariness and exhaustion.
+
+"The governor's worse to-day, Massingbred," said he, with a sigh.
+
+"No serious change, I hope?" said Jack.
+
+"I suspect there is, though," replied the other. "They sent for me from
+Lescour's last night, where I was winning smartly. Just like _my_ luck
+always, to be called away when I was 'in vein,' and when I got here,
+I found Schubart, and a French fellow whom I don't know, had just bled
+him. It must have been touch and go, for when I saw him he was very
+ill--very ill indeed--and they call him better."
+
+"It was a distinct attack, then,--a seizure of some sort?" asked
+Massingbred.
+
+"Yes, I think they said so," said he, lighting his cigar.
+
+"But he has rallied, has n't he?"
+
+"Well, I don't fancy he has. He lifts his eyes at times, and seems to
+look about for some one, and moves his lips a little, but you could
+scarcely say that he was conscious, though my mother insists he is."
+
+"What does Schubart think?"
+
+"Who minds these fellows?" said he, impatiently. "They're only
+speculating on what will be said of themselves, and so they go on: 'If
+this does not occur, and the other does not happen, we shall see him
+better this evening.'"
+
+"This is all very bad," said Massingbred, gloomily--"It's a deuced deal
+worse than you know of, old fellow," said Martin, bitterly.
+
+"Perhaps not worse than I suspect," said Massingbred.
+
+"What do you mean by that?"
+
+Massingbred did not reply, but sat deep in thought for some time. "Come,
+Martin," said he, at last, "let us be frank; in a few hours it may be,
+perhaps, too late for frankness. Is this true?" And he handed to him
+Merl's pocket-book, open at a particular page.
+
+Martin took it, and as his eyes traced the lines a sickly paleness
+covered his features, and in a voice scarcely stronger than an infant's,
+he said, "It is so."
+
+"The whole reversionary right?"
+
+"Every acre--every stick and stone of it--except," added he, with a
+sickly attempt at a smile, "a beggarly tract, near Kiltimmon, Mary has a
+charge upon."
+
+"Read that, now," said Jack, handing him his recently written letter.
+"I was about to send it without showing it to you; but it is as well you
+saw it."
+
+While Martin was reading, Massingbred never took his eyes from him. He
+watched with all his own practised keenness the varying emotions the
+letter cost; but he saw that, as he finished, selfishness had triumphed,
+and that the prospect of safety had blunted every sentiment as to the
+price.
+
+"Well," said Jack, "what say you to that?"
+
+"I say it's a right good offer, and on no account to be refused. There
+is some hitch or other--I can't say what, but it exists, I know--which
+ties us up against selling. Old Repton and the governor, and I think
+my mother, too, are in the secret; but I never was, so that Scanlan's
+proposal is exactly what meets the difficulty."
+
+"But do you like his conditions?" asked Jack.
+
+"I can't say I do. But what 's that to the purpose? One must play the
+hand that is dealt to them; there 's no choice! I know that, as agent
+over the property, he 'll make a deuced good thing of it for himself. It
+will not be five nor ten per cent will satisfy Master Maurice."
+
+"Yes; but there is another condition, also," said Jack, quietly.
+
+"About Mary? Well, of course it's not the kind of thing one likes.
+The fellow is the lowest of the low; but even that's better, in some
+respects, than a species of half gentility, for he actually has n't
+one in the world belonging to him. No one ever heard of his father or
+mother, and he's not the fellow to go in search of them."
+
+"I confess that _is_ a consideration," said Massingbred, with a tone
+that might mean equally raillery or the reverse, "so that you see no
+great objection on that score?"
+
+"I won't say I 'd choose the connection; but 'with a bad book it's at
+least a hedge,'--eh, Massy, is n't it?"
+
+"Perhaps so," said the other, dryly.
+
+"It does n't strike me," said Martin, as he glanced his eye again over
+the letter, "that you have advocated Scanlan's plan. You have left it
+without, apparently, one word of comment. Does that mean that you don't
+approve of it?"
+
+"I never promised him I would advocate it," said Jack.
+
+"I have no doubt, Massingbred, you think me a deuced selfish fellow for
+treating the question in this fashion; but just reflect a little,
+and see how innocently, as I may say, I was led into all these
+embarrassments. I never suspected how deep I was getting. Merl used to
+laugh at me if I asked him how we stood; he always induced me to regard
+our dealings as trifles, to be arranged to-day, to-morrow, or ten years
+hence."
+
+"I am not unversed in that sort of thing, unluckily," said Massingbred,
+interrupting him. "There is another consideration, however, in the
+present case, to which I do not think you have given sufficient weight."
+
+"As to Mary, my dear fellow, the matter is simple enough. Our consent
+is a mere form. If she liked Scanlan, she 'd marry him against all the
+Martins that ever were born; and if she did n't, she 'd not swerve an
+inch if the whole family were to go to the stake for it. She 's not one
+for half measures, I promise you; and then, remember, that though she
+is one 'of us,' and well born, she has never mingled with the society
+of her equals; she has always lived that kind of life you saw
+yourself,--taking a cast with the hounds one day, nursing some old hag
+with the rheumatism the next. I 've seen her hearing a class in the
+village school, and half an hour after, breaking in a young horse to
+harness. And what between her habits and her tastes, she is really not
+fit for what you and I would call the world." As Massingbred made no
+reply, Martin ascribed his silence to a part conviction, and went on:
+"Mind, I 'm not going to say that she is not a deuced deal too good for
+Maurice Scanlan, who is as vulgar a hound as walks on two legs; but, as
+I said before, Massy, we haven't much choice."
+
+"Will Lady Dorothea be likely to view the matter in this light?" asked
+Jack, calmly.
+
+"That is a mere matter of chance. She 's equally likely to embrace the
+proposal with ardor, or tell a footman to kick Scanlan out of the house
+for his impertinence; and I own the latter is the more probable of the
+two,--not, mark you, from any exaggerated regard for Mary, but out of
+consideration to the insult offered to herself."
+
+"Will she not weigh well all the perils that menace the estate?"
+
+"She'll take a short method with them,--she'll not believe them."
+
+"Egad! I must say the whole negotiation is in a very promising state!"
+exclaimed Jack, as he arose and walked the room. "There is only one
+amongst us has much head for a case of difficulty."
+
+"You mean Kate Henderson?" broke in Martin.
+
+"Yes."
+
+"Well, we 've lost _her_ just when we most needed her."
+
+"Lost her! How--what do you mean?"
+
+"Why, that she is gone--gone home. She started this morning before
+daybreak. She had a tiff with my mother last night. I will say the girl
+was shamefully treated,--shamefully! My Lady completely forgot herself.
+She was in one of those blessed paroxysms in which, had she been born a
+Pasha, heads would have been rolling about like shot in a dockyard, and
+she consequently said all manner of atrocities; and instead of giving
+her time to make the _amende_, Kate beat a retreat at once, and by this
+time she is some twenty miles on her journey."
+
+Massingbred walked to the window to hide the emotion these tidings
+produced; for, with all his self-command, the suddenness of the
+intelligence had unmanned him, and a cold and sickly feeling came over
+him. There was far more of outraged and insulted pride than love in the
+emotions which then moved him. The bitter thought of the moment was,
+how indifferent she felt about _him_,--how little _he_ weighed in
+any resolve she determined to follow. She had gone without a word of
+farewell,--perhaps without a thought of him. "Be it so," said he to
+himself; "there has been more than enough of humiliation to me in our
+intercourse. It is time to end it! The whole was a dream, from which the
+awaking was sure to be painful. Better meet it at once, and have done
+with it." There was that much of passion in this resolve that proved how
+far more it came from wounded pride than calm conviction; and so deeply
+was his mind engrossed with this feeling, that Martin had twice spoken
+to him ere he noticed his question.
+
+"Do you mean, then, to show that letter to my mother?"
+
+"Ay; I have written it with that object Scanlan asked me to be
+his interpreter, and I have kept my pledge.--And did she go
+alone,--unaccompanied?"
+
+"I fancy so; but, in truth, I never asked. The doctors were here, and
+all that fuss and confusion going on, so that I had really little head
+for anything. After all, I suspect she's a girl might be able to take
+care of herself,--should n't you say so?"
+
+Massingbred was silent for a while, and then said: "You 'll have to be
+on the alert about this business of yours, Martin; and if I can be of
+service to you, command me. I mean to start for London immediately."
+
+"I 'll see my mother at once, then," said he, taking up Massingbred's
+letter.
+
+"Shall I meet you in about an hour, in the Lichtenthal Avenue?"
+
+"Agreed," said he; and they parted.
+
+We have no need, nor have we any right, to follow Massingbred as he
+strolled out to walk alone in an alley of the wood. Irresolution is an
+intense suffering to men of action; and such was the present condition
+of his mind. Week after week, month after month, had he lingered on
+in companionship with the Martins, till such had become the intimacy
+between them that they scrupled not to discuss before him the most
+confidential circumstances, and ask his counsel on the most private
+concerns. He fancied that he was "of them;" he grew to think that he
+was, somehow, part and parcel of the family, little suspecting the
+while that Kate Henderson was the link that bound him to them, and that
+without her presence they resolved themselves into three individuals for
+whom he felt wonderfully little of interest or affection. "She is gone,
+and what have I to stay for?" was the question he put to himself; and
+for answer he could only repeat it.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXV. A COMPROMISE
+
+There are many who think that our law of primogeniture is a sad hardener
+of the heart,--estranging the father from the son, widening petty
+misunderstandings to the breadth of grievances, engendering suspicions
+where there should be trustfulness, and opening two roads in life to
+those who should rightfully have trod one path together. If one half of
+this be the price we pay for our "great houses," the bargain is a bad
+one! But even taking a wide margin for exaggeration,--allowing much
+for the prejudices of those who assail this institution,--there is that
+which revolts against one's better nature, in the ever-present question
+of money, between the father and his heir. The very fact that separate
+rights suggest separate interests is a source of discord; while the
+inevitable law of succession is a stern defiance to that sense of
+protection on one side, and dependence on the other, that should mark
+their relations to each other.
+
+Captain Martin was not devoid of affection for his family. He had, it
+is true, been very little at home, but he did not dislike it, beyond
+the "boredom" of a rather monotonous kind of life. He was naturally of
+a plastic temperament, however, and he lived amongst a set whose
+good pleasure it is to criticise all who belong to them with the very
+frankest of candor. One told how his governor, though rolling in wealth,
+kept him on a most beggarly allowance, illustrating, with many an
+amusing story, traits of avarice that set the table in a roar. Another
+exhibited his as such a reckless spendthrift that the family estate
+would never cover the debts. There was a species of rivalry on seeing
+who should lay most open to public view details and incidents purely
+belonging to a family. It was even a principle of this new school
+to discuss, and suffer others to discuss before them, the class and
+condition of life of their parents in a tone of mockery and derision,
+whenever the occasion might admit it; and the son of the manufacturer
+or the trader listened to allusions to his birth and parentage, and even
+jested upon them himself, in a spirit more flattering to his philosophy
+than to his pride.
+
+Martin had lived amidst all this for years. He had been often
+complimented upon the "jolly good thing he was to have one of these
+days;" he had been bantered out of many a wise and prudent economy, by
+being reminded of that "deuced fine property nobody could keep him out
+of." "What can it signify to _you_ old fellow, a few hundreds more or
+less. You must have fifteen thousand a year yet. The governor can't live
+forever, I take it." Others, too, as self-invited guests, speculated on
+all the pleasures of a visit to Cro' Martin; and if at first the young
+man heard such projects with shame and repugnance, he learned at last to
+listen to them with indifference, perhaps with something less!
+
+Was it some self-accusing on this score that now overwhelmed him as he
+sat alone in his room, trying to think, endeavoring to arouse himself to
+action, but so overcome that he sat there only half conscious, and
+but dimly discerning the course of events about him? At such moments
+external objects mingle their influences with our thoughts, and the
+sound of voices, the tread of footsteps, the mere shutting of a door,
+seem to blend themselves with our reveries, and give somewhat of reality
+to our dreamy fancies. A large clock upon the mantelpiece had thus fixed
+his attention, and he watched the minute-hand as though its course was
+meting out the last moments of existence. "Ere it reach that hour,"
+thought he, fixing his gaze upon the dial, "what a change may have come
+over all my fortunes!" Years--long years--seemed to pass over as he
+waited thus; scenes of childhood, of infancy itself, mingled with the
+gay dissipations of his after-life; school days and nights at mess,
+wild orgies of the play-table and sad wakings on the morrow, all moved
+through his distracted brain, till at length it was only by an effort
+that he could shake off these flitting fancies and remember where he
+was.
+
+He at once bethought him that there was much to be done. He had given
+Massingbred's letter to his mother, entreating a prompt answer, but
+two hours had now elapsed and she had not sent her reply. There was a
+struggle between his better nature and his selfishness whether to seek
+her. The thought of that sick-room, dark and silent, appalled him. "Is
+it at such a time I dare ask her to address her mind to this? and yet
+hours are now stealing over which may decide my whole fate in life."
+While he thus hesitated, Lady Dorothea entered the room. Nights of
+anxiety and watching, the workings of a spirit that fought inch by
+inch with fortune, were deeply marked upon her features. Weariness
+and fatigue had not brought depression on her, but rather imparted a
+feverish lustre to her eyes, and an expression of haughty energy to her
+face.
+
+"Am I to take this for true," said she, as, seating herself in front
+of him, she held out Massingbred's letter,--"I mean, of course, what
+relates to yourself?"
+
+He nodded sorrowfully, but did not speak.
+
+"All literally the fact?" said she, speaking slowly, and dwelling on
+every word. "You have actually sold the reversion of the estate?"
+
+"And am beggared!" said he, sternly.
+
+Lady Dorothea tried to speak. She coughed, cleared her throat, made
+another effort, but without succeeding; and then, in a slightly broken
+voice, said, "Fetch me a glass of water. No, sit down; I don't want it."
+The blood again mounted to her pale cheeks, and she was herself again.
+
+"These are hard terms of Scanlan's," said she, in a dry, stern tone. "He
+has waited, too, till we have little choice remaining. Your father is
+worse."
+
+"Worse than when I saw him this morning?"
+
+"Weaker, and less able to bear treatment. He is irritable, too, at that
+girl's absence. He asks for her constantly, and confuses her in his mind
+with Mary."
+
+"And what does Schubart think?"
+
+"I'll tell you what he _says_," replied she, with a marked emphasis on
+the last word. "He says the case is hopeless; he has seen such linger
+for weeks, but even a day--a day--" She tried to go on; but her voice
+faltered, her lip trembled, and she was silent.
+
+"I had begun to believe it so," muttered Martin, gloomily. "He scarcely
+recognized me yesterday."
+
+"He is perfectly collected and sensible now," said Lady Dorothea, in her
+former calm tone. "He spoke of business matters clearly and well, and
+wished to see Scanlan."
+
+"Which I trust you did not permit?" asked Martin, hurriedly.
+
+"I told him he should see him this evening, but there is no necessity
+for it. Scanlan may have left this before evening."
+
+"You suspect that Scanlan would say something,--would mention to him
+something of this affair?"
+
+"Discretion is not the quality of the low-born and the vulgar,"
+said she, haughtily; "self-importance alone would render him unsafe.
+Besides,"--and this she said rapidly,--"there is nothing to detain the
+man here, when he knows that we accept his conditions."
+
+"And are we to accept them?" said Martin, anxiously.
+
+"Dare we refuse them? What is the alternative? I suppose what you have
+done with your Jew friend has been executed legally--formally?"
+
+"Trust _him_ for that; he has left no flaw there!" said Martin,
+bitterly.
+
+"I was certain of it," said she, with a scarcely perceptible sneer.
+"Everything, therefore, has been effected according to law?"
+
+"Yes, I believe so," replied he, doggedly.
+
+"Then really there is nothing left to us but Scanlan. He objects to
+Repton; so do I. I always deemed him obtrusive and familiar. In the
+management of an Irish estate such qualities may be reckoned essential.
+I know what we should think of them in England, and I know where we
+should place their possessor."
+
+"I believe the main question that presses now is, are we to have an
+estate at all?" said the Captain, bitterly.
+
+"Yes, sir, you have really brought it to that," rejoined she, with equal
+asperity.
+
+"Do you consent to his having the agency?" asked Martin, with an immense
+effort to suppress passion.
+
+"Yes."
+
+"And you agree, also, to his proposal for Mary?"
+
+"It is matter of complete indifference to me who Miss Martin marries, if
+she only continue to reside where she does at present. I 'm certain she
+'d not consult _me_ on the subject; I'm sure I'd never control _her_. It
+is a _mesalliance_, to be sure; but it would be equally so, if she,
+with her rustic habits and uneducated mind, were to marry what would be
+called her equal. In the present case, she 'll be a little better than
+her station; in the other, she 'd be vastly beneath it!"
+
+"Poor Molly!" said he, half aloud; and, for the first time, there was a
+touch of his father's tone and manner in the words.
+
+Lady Dorothea looked at him, and with a slight shrug of the shoulders
+seemed to sneer at his low-priced compassion.
+
+"Scoff away!" said he, sternly; "but if I thought that any consent we
+gave to this scheme could take the shape of a coercion, I 'd send the
+estate to the--"
+
+"You have, sir; you have done all that already," broke in Lady Dorothea.
+"When the troubled breathing that we hear from yonder room ceases, there
+is no longer a Martin of Cro' Martin!"
+
+"Then what are we losing time for?" cried he, eagerly. "Are moments
+so precious to be spent in attack and recrimination? There's Scanlan
+sitting on a bench before the door. Call him up--tell him you accept
+his terms--let him start for London, post haste. With every speed he can
+master he 'll not be a minute too soon. Shall I call him? Shall I beckon
+to him?"
+
+"Send a servant for him," said Lady Dorothea, calmly, while she folded
+up the letter, and laid it on the table at her side.
+
+Martin rang the bell and gave the order, and then, assuming an air of
+composure he was very far from feeling, sat silently awaiting Scanlan's
+entrance. That gentleman did not long detain them. He had been sitting,
+watch in hand, for above an hour, looking occasionally up at the
+windows, and wondering why he had not been summoned. It was, then, with
+an almost abrupt haste that he at last presented himself.
+
+"Read over that letter, sir," said Lady Dorothea, "and please to inform
+me if it rightly conveys your propositions."
+
+Scanlan perused Massingbred's letter carefully, and folding it up,
+returned it. "Yes, my Lady," said he, "I think it embraces the chief
+points. Of course there is nothing specified as to the mode of carrying
+them out,--I mean, as to the security I should naturally look for. I
+believe your Ladyship does not comprehend me?"
+
+"Not in the least, sir."
+
+"Well, if I must speak plainer, I want to be sure that your concurrence
+is no mere barren concession, my Lady; that, in admitting my
+pretensions, your Ladyship favors them. This is, of course," said he, in
+a tone of deference, "if your Ladyship condescends to accept the terms
+at all; for, as yet, you have not said so."
+
+"If I had not been so minded, sir, this interview would not have taken
+place."
+
+"Well, indeed, I thought as much myself," said he; "and so I at once
+entered upon what one might call the working details of the measure."
+
+"How long will it take you to reach London, sir?" asked she, coldly.
+
+"Four days, my Lady, travelling night and day."
+
+"How soon after your arrival there can you make such arrangements as
+will put this affair out of all danger, using every endeavor in your
+power?"
+
+"I hope I could answer for that within a week,--maybe, less."
+
+"You'll have to effect it in half that time, sir," said she, solemnly.
+
+"Well, I don't despair of that same, if I have only your Ladyship's
+promise to all that is set down there. I 'll neither eat nor sleep till
+the matter is in good train."
+
+"I repeat, sir, that if this settlement be not accomplished in less than
+a week from the present moment, it may prove utterly valueless."
+
+"I can only say I'll do my best, my Lady. I'd be on the road this
+minute, if your Ladyship would dismiss me."
+
+"Very well, sir,--you are free. I pledge myself to the full conditions
+of this letter. Captain Martin binds himself equally to observe them."
+
+"I 'd like it in writing under your Ladyship's hand," said Scanlan, in
+a half whisper, as though afraid to speak such doubts aloud. "It is
+not that I have the least suspicion or misgiving in life about your
+Ladyship's word,--I'd take it for a million of money,--but when I come
+to make my proposals in person to Miss Mary--"
+
+"There, sir, that will do!" said she, with a disdainful look, as if to
+repress an explanation so disagreeable. "You need not enter further upon
+the question. If you address me by letter, I will reply to it."
+
+"There it is, my Lady," said he, producing a sealed epistle, and placing
+it on the table before her. "I had it ready, just not to be losing time.
+My London address is inside; and if you'll write to me by to-morrow's
+post,--or the day after," added he, remarking a movement of impatience
+in her face--"You shall have your bond, sir,--you shall have your bond,"
+broke she in, haughtily.
+
+"That ought to be enough, I think," said the Captain, with a degree of
+irritation that bespoke a long internal conflict.
+
+"I want nothing beyond what I shall earn, Captain Martin," said Scanlan,
+as a flash of angry meaning covered his features.
+
+"And we have agreed to the terms, Mr. Scanlan," said her Ladyship, with
+a great effort to conciliate. "It only remains for us to say, a good
+journey, and every success attend you."
+
+"Thank you, my Lady; I'm your most obedient. Captain, I wish you
+good-bye, and hope soon to send you happy tidings. I trust, if Mr.
+Martin asks after me, that you 'll give him my respectful duty; and
+if--"
+
+"We'll forget nothing, sir," said Lady Dorothea, rising; and Scanlan,
+after a moment's hesitation as to whether he should venture to offer
+his hand,--a measure for which, happily, he could not muster the
+courage,--bowed himself out of the room, and closed the door.
+
+"Not a very cordial leave-taking for one that's to be her nephew,"
+muttered he, with a bitter laugh, as he descended the stairs. "And,
+indeed, my first cousin, the Captain, is n't the model of family
+affection. Never mind, Maurice, your day is coming!" And with this
+assuring reflection he issued forth to give orders for his journey.
+
+A weary sigh--the outpouring of an oppressed and jaded spirit--broke
+from Lady Dorothea as the door closed after him. "Insufferable
+creature!" muttered she to herself? and then, turning to the Captain,
+said aloud, "Is that man capable of playing us false?--or, rather, has
+he the power of doing so?"
+
+"It is just what I have been turning over in my own mind," replied he.
+"I don't quite trust him; and, in fact, I'd follow him over to London,
+if I were free at this moment."
+
+"Perhaps you ought to do so; it might be the wisest course," said she,
+hesitatingly.
+
+"Do you think I could leave this with safety?" asked he. But she did
+not seem to have heard the question. He repeated it, and she was still
+silent. "If the doctors could be relied on, they should be able to tell
+us."
+
+"To tell us what?" asked she, abruptly, almost sternly.
+
+"I meant that they'd know--that they'd perhaps be in a position to
+judge--that they at least could warn us--" Here he stopped, confused and
+embarrassed, and quite unable to continue. That sense of embarrassment,
+however, came less of his own reflections than of the cold, steady, and
+searching look which his mother never ceased to bend on him. It was a
+gaze that seemed to imply, "Say on, and let me hear how destitute of
+all feeling you will avow yourself." It was, indeed, the meaning of her
+stare, and so he felt it, as the color came and went in his cheek, and a
+sense of faintish sickness crept over him.
+
+"The post has arrived, my Lady, and I have left your Ladyship's letters
+on the dressing-table," said a servant. And Lady Dorothea, who had been
+impatiently awaiting the mall, hastened at once to her room.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXVI. A LETTER THAT NEVER REACHES ITS ADDRESS
+
+It was not without a very painful emotion that Lady Dorothea turned
+over a mass of letters addressed to her husband. They came from various
+quarters, written in all the moods of many minds. Some were the mere
+gossip of clubs and dinnerparties,--some were kindly and affectionate
+inquiries, gentle reproachings on his silence, and banterings about his
+pretended low spirits. A somewhat favorite tone is that same raillery
+towards those whose lot in life seems elevated above the casualties of
+fortune, forgetting the while that the sunniest path has its shadows,
+and they whom we deem exempt from the sore trials of the world have
+their share of its sorrows. These read strangely now, as he to whom they
+were addressed lay breathing the heavy and labored breath, and muttering
+the low broken murmurs that prelude the one still deeper sleep!
+
+With a tremulous hand, and a gesture of fretful impatience, she threw
+them from her one after the other. The topics and the tone alike jarred
+upon her nerves. They seemed so unfeeling, too, and so heartless at such
+a moment. Oh, if we wanted to moralize over the uncertainty of life,
+what a theme might we have in the simple fact that, quicker than the
+lines we are writing fall from our pen, are oftentimes changing the
+whole fate and fortune of him for whom we destine them! We are telling
+of hope where despair has already entered,--we are speaking joy to a
+house of mourning! But one letter alone remained unopened. It was in
+Repton's hand, and she broke the seal, wondering how he, who of all men
+hated writing, should have turned a correspondent.
+
+The "strictly confidential" of the cover was repeated within; but the
+hour had come when she could violate the caution, and she read on. The
+first few lines were a half-jesting allusion to Martin's croakings about
+his health; but even these had a forced, constrained air, and none of
+the jocular ease of the old man's manner. "And yet," continued he, "it
+is exactly about your health I am most anxious. I want you to be strong
+and stout, body and mind, ready for action, and resolute. I know the
+tone and style that an absentee loves and even requires to be addressed
+in. He wants to be told that, however he may be personally regretted,
+matters go on wonderfully well in his absence, that rent is paid, farms
+improved, good markets abound, and the county a pattern of quietness. I
+could tell you all this, Martin, and not a syllable of it be true. The
+rents are not paid, partly from a season of great pressure, but, more
+still, from an expectancy on the side of the people that something--they
+know not what--is coming. The Relief Bill only relieved those who wanted
+to job in politics and make market of their opinions; the masses it has
+scarcely touched. They are told they are emancipated, but I am at a loss
+to know in what way they realize to their minds the new privilege. Their
+leaders have seen this. Shrewd fellows as they are, they have guessed
+what disappointment must inevitably ensue when the long-promised boon
+can show nothing as its results but certain noisy mob-orators made
+Parliament men; and so they have slyly hinted,--as yet it is only a
+hint,--'this is but the first step--an instalment they call it--of a
+large debt, every fraction of which must yet be paid!'
+
+"Now there is not in all Europe a more cunning or a deeper fellow than
+Paddy. He has an Italian's subtlety and a Celt's suspicion; but enlist
+his self-love, his vanity, and his acquisitiveness in any scheme, and
+all his shrewdness deserts him. The old hackney coach-horses never
+followed the hay on the end of the pole more hopefully than will he
+travel after some promised future of 'fine times,' with plenty to eat
+and drink, and nothing to do for it! They have booked themselves now for
+this journey, and the delusion must run its course. Meanwhile rents will
+not be paid, farms not improved, bad prices and poverty will abound, and
+the usual crop of discontent and its consequent crime. I 'm not going
+to inflict you with my own opinions on this theme. You know well enough
+already that I never regarded these 'Agrarian disturbances,' as they are
+called, in the light of passing infractions of the peace, but traced in
+them the continuous working of a long preconcerted plan,--the scheme of
+very different heads from those who worked it,--by which the law should
+ever be assailed and the right of property everlastingly put in dispute.
+In plain words, the system was a standing protest against the sway of
+the Saxons in Ireland! 'The agitators' understood thoroughly how to
+profit by this, and they worked these alternate moods of outrage and
+peace pretty much as the priests of old guided their auguries. They
+brought the game to that perfection that a murder could shake a
+ministry, or a blank calendar become the triumph of an Administration!
+
+"Such is, at the moment I am writing, the actual condition of Ireland!
+Come home, then, at once,--but come alone. Come back resolved to see and
+act for yourself. There is a lingering spark of the old feudalism
+yet left in the people. Try and kindle it up once more into the old
+healthful glow of love to the landlord. Some would say it is too late
+for all this; but I will not think so. Magennis has given us an open
+defiance; we are to be put on our title. Now, you are well aware there
+is a complication here, and I shall want to consult you personally;
+besides, we must have a search through those registries that are locked
+up in the strong-room. Mary tells me you carried away the key of it.
+I tell you frankly, I wish we could hit upon some means of
+stopping Magennis. The suit is a small war, that demands grand
+preparation,--always a considerable evil! The fellow, I am told, is also
+concocting another attack,--an action against your niece and others for
+the forcible abduction of his wife. It would read fabulously enough,
+such a charge, but as old Casey said, 'There never yet was anything you
+could n't impute at law, if you only employed the word "conspiracy;"'
+and I believe it! The woman certainly has deserted him, and her
+whereabouts cannot be ascertained. The scandal of such a cause would of
+course be very great; but if you were here we might chance upon some
+mode of averting it,--at all events, your niece shouldn't be deserted at
+such a moment. What a noble girl it is, Martin, and how gloriously she
+comprehends her station! Give me a dozen like her, and I 'll bid
+defiance to all the machinations of all the agitators; and they know it!
+
+"If your estate has resisted longer than those of your neighbors the
+demoralizing influences that are now at work here, you owe it to Mary.
+If crime has not left its track of blood along your avenue or on your
+door-sill, it is she who has saved you. If the midnight hour has not
+been scared by the flame of your burning house or haggard, thank _her_
+for it,--ay, Martin, _her_ courage, _her_ devotion, _her_ watchful
+charity, _her_ unceasing benevolence, the glorious guarantee her daily
+life gives, that _she_, at least, is with the people in all their
+sufferings and their trials! You or I had abandoned with impatience the
+cause that she had succored against every disappointment. Her woman's
+nature has endowed her with a higher and a nobler energy than ever a man
+possessed. She _will not_ be defeated.
+
+"Henderson may bewail, and Maurice Scanlan deride, the shortcomings of
+the people. But through evil and good report she is there to hear from
+their own lips, to see with her own eyes, the story of their sorrows. Is
+this nothing? Is there no lesson in the fact that she, nurtured in
+every luxury, braves the wildest day of winter in her mission of
+charity?--that the most squalid misery, the most pestilent disease never
+deterred her? I saw her a few days back coming home at daybreak; she
+had passed the night in a hovel where neither you nor I would have taken
+shelter in a storm. The hectic flush of fatigue and anxiety was on her
+cheek; her eyes, deep sunk, showed weariness; and her very voice, as
+she spoke to me, was tremulous and weak; and of what, think you, was her
+mind full? Of the noble calm, the glorious, patient endurance of
+those she had just quitted. 'What lessons might we not learn,' said
+she,'beneath the wet thatch of poverty! There are three struck down with
+fever in that cabin; she who remains to nurse them is a little girl of
+scarcely thirteen. There is all that can render sickness wretched around
+them. They are in pain and in want; cold winds and rain sweep across
+their beds, if we could call them such. If they cherish the love of
+life, it must be through some instinct above all reason; and there they
+lie, uncomplaining. The little remnant of their strength exhausts itself
+in a look of thankfulness,--a faint effort to say their gratitude. Oh,
+if querulous hypochondriacism could but see them, what teaching it might
+learn! Sufferings that call forth from us not alone peevishness and
+impatience, but actually traits of rude and ungenerous meaning, develop
+in them an almost refined courtesy, and a trustfulness that supplies all
+that is most choice in words of gratitude.'
+
+"And this is the girl whose life every day, every hour is
+imperilling,--who encounters all the hazards of our treacherous climate,
+and all the more fatal dangers of a season of pestilence, without
+friends, without a home! Now, Martin, apart from all higher and better
+considerations on the subject, this was not your compact,--such was not
+the text of your bargain with poor Barry. The pledge you gave him at
+your last parting was that she should be your daughter. That you made
+her feel all the affection of one, none can tell more surely than
+myself. That your own heart responds to her love I am as fully convinced
+of. But this is not enough, my dear Martin. She has rights--actual
+rights--that no special pleading on the score of intentions or good
+wishes can satisfy. I should but unworthily discharge my office, as your
+oldest friend in the world, if I did not place this before you broadly
+and plainly. The country is dull and wearisome, devoid of society, and
+without resources, and you leave it; but you leave behind you, to endure
+all its monotony, all its weariness, one who possesses every charm and
+every attention that are valued in the great world! There is fever and
+plague abroad, insurrection threatens, and midnight disturbances are
+rife, and she who is to confront these perils is a girl of twenty. The
+spirit of an invading party threatens to break down all the prestige of
+old family name and property,--a cunningly devised scheme menaces the
+existence of an influence that has endured for centuries; and to oppose
+its working, or fall victim to its onslaught, you leave a young lady,
+whose very impulses of generous meaning may be made snares to entrap
+her. In a word, you neglect duty, desert danger, shun the path of
+honorable exertion, and retreat before the menace of an encounter, to
+place, where you should stand yourself, the frail figure and gentle
+nature of one who was a child, as it were, but yesterday. Neither
+your health nor your happiness can be purchased at such a price,--your
+conscience is too sound for that,--nor can your ease! No, Martin, your
+thoughts will stray over here, and linger amongst these lonely glens
+that she is treading. Your fancy will follow her through the dark nights
+of winter, as alone she goes forth on her mission of mercy. You will
+think of her, stooping to teach the young--bending over the sick-bed of
+age. And then, tracing her footsteps homeward, you will see her sit down
+by a solitary hearth,--none of her own around her,--not one to advise,
+to counsel, to encourage her! I will say no more on this theme; your own
+true heart has already anticipated all that _I_ could _speak_,--all that
+_you_ should _do_.
+
+"Now for one more question, and I shall have finished the most painful
+letter I ever wrote in my life. There are rumors--I cannot trace them,
+nor fully understand them, but they imply that Captain Martin has been
+raising very considerable sums by reversionary bonds and post-obits.
+Without being able to give even a guess, as to the truth of this, I
+draw your attention to the bare possibility, as of a case full of very
+serious complications. Speak to your son at once on the subject, and
+learn the truth,--the whole truth. My own fears upon the matter have
+been considerably strengthened by hearing of a person who has been
+for several weeks back making inquiries on the estate. He has resided
+usually at Kilkieran, and spends his time traversing the property in all
+directions, investigating questions of rent, wages, and tenure of land.
+They tell marvellous stories of his charity and so forth,--blinds,
+doubtless, to cover his own immediate objects. Mary, however, I ought to
+say, takes a very different view of his character, and is so anxious to
+know him personally that I promised her to visit him, and bring him to
+visit her at the cottage. And, by the way, Martin, why should she be
+at the cottage,--why not at Cro' Martin? What miserable economy has
+dictated a change that must reflect upon her influence, not to speak of
+what is justly due to her own station? I could swear that you never
+gave a willing consent to this arrangement. No, no, Martin, the plan was
+never yours.
+
+"I 'm not going to bore you with borough politics. To tell truth, I
+can't comprehend them. They want to get rid of Massingbred, but they
+don't see who is to succeed him. Young Nelligan ought to be the man, but
+he will not. He despises his party,--or at least what would call
+itself his party,--and is resolved never to concern himself with public
+affairs. Meanwhile he is carrying all before him at the Bar, and is as
+sure of the Bench as though he were on it.
+
+"When he heard of Magennis's intention of bringing this action against
+Mary, he came up to town to ask me to engage him on our side, 'since,'
+said he, 'if they send me a brief I cannot refuse it, and if I accept
+it, I promise you it shall be my last cause, for I have resolved to
+abandon the Bar the day after.' This, of course, was in strictest
+secrecy, and so you must regard it. He is a cold, calm fellow, and yet
+on this occasion he seemed full of impulsive action.
+
+"I had something to tell you about Henderson, but I actually forget what
+it was. I can only remember it was disagreeable; and as this epistle has
+its due share of bitters, my want of memory is perhaps a benefit; and so
+to release you at once, I 'll write myself, as I have never ceased to be
+for forty years,
+
+"Your attached friend,
+
+"Val. Repton."
+
+
+"I believe I was wrong about Henderson; at least the disagreeable went
+no further than that he is supposed to be the channel through which Lady
+Dorothea occasionally issues directions, not always in agreement with
+Mary's notions. And as your niece never liked the man, the measures are
+not more palatable when they come through his intervention."
+
+Lady Dorothea was still pondering over this letter, in which there were
+so many things to consider, when a hurried message called her to the
+sick-room. As she approached the room, she could hear Martin's voice
+calling imperiously and angrily to the servants, and ordering them
+to dress him. The difficulty of utterance seemed to increase his
+irritation, and gave to his words a harsh, discordant tone, very unlike
+his natural voice.
+
+"So," cried he, as she entered, "you have come at last. I am nigh
+exhausted with telling them what I want. I must get up, Dora. They must
+help me to dress."
+
+As he was thus speaking, the servants, at a gesture from her Ladyship,
+quietly stole from the chamber, leaving her alone at his bedside.
+
+"You are too weak for this exertion, Godfrey," said she, calmly. "Any
+effort like this is certain to injure you."
+
+"You think so?" asked he, with the tone of deference that he generally
+used towards her. "Perhaps you are right, Dora; but how can it be
+helped?--there is so much to do, such a long way to travel. What a
+strange confusion is over me! Do you know, Dolly,"--here his voice fell
+to a mere whisper,--"you'll scarcely credit it; but all the time I have
+been fancying myself at Cro' Martin, and here we are in--in--what do you
+call the place?"
+
+"Baden."
+
+"Yes--yes--but the country?"
+
+"Germany."
+
+"Ay, to be sure, Germany; hundreds of miles away from home!" Here
+he raised himself on one arm, and cast a look of searching eagerness
+through the room. "Is he gone?" whispered he, timidly.
+
+"Of whom are you speaking?" said she.
+
+"Hush, Dolly, hush!" whispered he, still lower. "I promised I 'd not
+tell any one, even you, of his being here. But I must speak of it--I
+must--or my brain will turn. He was here--he sat in that very chair--he
+held my hand within both his own. Poor, poor fellow! how his eyes filled
+when he saw me! He little knew how changed he himself was!--his hair
+white as snow, and his eyes so dimmed!"
+
+"This was a dream, Godfrey,--only a dream!"
+
+"I thought you 'd say so,--I knew it," said he, sorrowfully; "but _I_
+know better. The dear old voice rang in my heart as I used to hear it
+when a child, as he said, 'Do you remember me?' To be sure I remembered
+him, and told him to go and fetch Molly; and his brow darkened when
+I said this, and he drew back his hand and said, 'You have deserted
+her,--she is not here!'"
+
+"All this is mere fancy, Godfrey; you have been dreaming of home."
+
+"Ay," muttered he, gloomily, "it was but too true; we did desert her,
+and that was not our bargain, Dolly. It was all the poor fellow asked
+at our hands,--his last, his only condition. What's that letter you have
+there?" cried he, impatiently, as Lady Dorothea, in the agitation of the
+moment, continued to crumple Repton's letter between her fingers.
+
+"A letter I have been reading," said she, sternly.
+
+"From whom--from whom?" asked he, still more eagerly.
+
+"A letter from Mr. Repton. You shall read it when you are better. You
+are too weak for all this exertion, God-frey; you must submit--"
+
+"Submit!" broke he in; "the very word he said. You submit yourself to
+anything, if it only purchase your selfish ease. No, Dolly, no, I am
+wrong. It was I that said so. I owned to him how unworthily I had acted.
+Give me that letter, madam. Let me see it," said he, imperiously.
+
+"When you are more tranquil, Godfrey,--in a fitting state."
+
+"I tell you, madam," cried he, fiercely, "this, is no time for trifling
+or deception. Repton knows all our affairs. If he has written now, it is
+because matters are imminent. My head is clear now. I can think--I can
+speak. It is full time Harry should hear the truth. Let him come here."
+
+"Take a little rest, Godfrey, be it only half an hour, and you shall
+have everything as you wish it."
+
+"Half an hour! you speak of half an hour to one whose years are minutes
+now!" said he, in a broken voice. "This poor brain, Dora, is already
+wandering. The strange things I have seen so lately--that poor fellow
+come back after so many years--so changed, so sadly changed--but I knew
+him through all the mist and vapor of this feverish state; I saw him
+clearly, my own dear Barry!" The word, as it were the last barrier to
+his emotion, brought forth a gush of tears; and burying his face within
+the bedclothes, he sobbed himself to sleep. As he slept, however, he
+continued to mutter about home and long passed years,--of boyish sports
+with his brother; childish joys and sorrows were all mingled there, with
+now and then some gloomier reveries of later days.
+
+"He has been wandering in his mind!" whispered Lady Dorothea to her son,
+as he joined her in the darkened room. "He woke up, believing that he
+had seen his brother, and the effect was very painful."
+
+"Has he asked for _me?_" inquired the other.
+
+"No; he rambled on about Mary, and having deserted her, and all that;
+and just as ill-luck would have it, here is a letter from Repton,
+exactly filled with the very same theme. He insists on seeing it; but of
+course he will have forgotten it when he awakes."
+
+"You have written to Scanlan?" asked he.
+
+"Yes; my letter has been sent off."
+
+"Minutes are precious now. If anything should occur here,"--his eyes
+turned towards the sick-bed as he spoke,--"Merl will refuse to treat.
+His people--I know they are his--are hovering about the hotel all the
+morning. I heard the waiter whispering as I passed, and caught the
+words, 'No better; worse, if anything.' The tidings would be in London
+before the post."
+
+Lady Dorothea made no reply, and all was now silent, save the unequal
+but heavy breathings of the sick man, and the faint, low mutterings of
+his dream. "In the arras--between the window and the wall--there it is,
+Barry," cried he, in a clear, distinct voice. "Repton has a copy of it,
+too, with Catty's signature,--old Catty Broon."
+
+"What is he dreaming of?" asked the young man.
+
+But, instead of replying to the question, Lady Dorothea bent down her
+head to catch the now muttered words of the sleeper.
+
+"He says something of a key. What key does he mean?" asked he.
+
+[Illustration: 297]
+
+"Fetch me that writing-desk," said Lady Dorothea, as she took several
+keys from her pockets; and noiselessly unlocking the box, she began to
+search amidst its contents. As she continued, her gestures grew more and
+more hurried; she threw papers recklessly here and there, and at last
+emptied the entire contents upon the table before her. "See, search if
+there be a key here," cried she, in a broken voice; "I saw it here three
+days ago."
+
+"There is none here," said he, wondering at her eagerness.
+
+"Look carefully,--look well for it," said she, her voice trembling at
+every word.
+
+"Is it of such consequence--"
+
+"It is of such consequence," broke she in, "that he into whose hands it
+falls can leave you and me beggars on the world!" An effort at awaking
+by the sick man here made her hastily restore the papers to the desk,
+which she locked, and replaced upon the table.
+
+"Was it the Henderson did this?" said she aloud, as if asking the
+question of herself. "Could she have known this secret?"
+
+"Did what? What secret?" asked he, anxiously.
+
+A low, long sigh announced that the sick man was awaking; and in a
+faint voice he said, "I feel better, Dora. I have had a sleep, and been
+dreaming of home and long ago. To-morrow, or next day, perhaps, I may be
+strong enough to leave this. I want to be back there again. Nay, don't
+refuse me," said he, timidly.
+
+"When you are equal to the journey--"
+
+"I have a still longer one before me, Dora, and even less preparation
+for it. Harry, I have something to say to you, if I were strong enough
+to say it,--this evening, perhaps." Wearied by the efforts he had made,
+he lay back again with a heavy sigh, and was silent.
+
+"Is he worse--is he weaker?" asked his son.
+
+A mournful nod of the head was her reply.
+
+Young Martin arose and stole noiselessly from the room, he scarcely knew
+whither; he indeed cared not which way he turned. The future threw its
+darkest shadows before him. He had little to hope for, as little to
+love. His servant gave him a letter which Massingbred had left on his
+departure, but he never opened it; and in a listless vacuity he wandered
+out into the wood.
+
+It was evening as he turned homeward. His first glance was towards the
+windows of his father's room. They were wont to be closely shuttered and
+fastened; now one of them lay partly open, and a slight breeze stirred
+the curtain within. A faint, sickly fear of he knew not what crept over
+him. He walked on quicker; but as he drew nigh the door, his servant met
+him. "Well!" cried he, as though expecting a message.
+
+"Yes, sir, it is all over; he went off about an hour since." The man
+added something; but Martin heard no more, but hurried to his room, and
+locked the door.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXVII. A VERY BRIEF INTERVIEW.
+
+When Jack Massingbred found himself once more "in town," and saw that
+the tide of the mighty world there rolled on the same full, boiling
+flood he had remembered it of yore, he began to wonder where and how
+he had latterly been spending his life. There were questions of
+politics--mighty interests of which every one was talking--of which he
+knew nothing; party changes and new social combinations had arisen of
+which he was utterly ignorant. But what he still more acutely deplored
+was that he himself had, so to say, dropped out of the memory of his
+friends, who accosted him with that half-embarrassed air that says,
+"Have you been ill?--or in India?--or how is it that we have n't met you
+about?" It was last session he had made a flash speech,--an effort that
+his own party extolled to the skies, and even the Opposition could only
+criticise the hardihood and presumption of so very young a member of the
+House,--and now already people had ceased to bear him in mind.
+
+The least egotistical of men--and Massingbred did not enter into this
+category--find it occasionally very hard to bear the cool "go-by" the
+world gives them whenever a chance interval has withdrawn them from
+public view. The stern truth of how little each atom of the social
+scheme affects the working of the whole machinery is far from palatable
+in its personal application. Massingbred was probably sensitive enough
+on this score, but too consummate a tactician to let any one guess his
+feelings; and so he lounged down to the "House," and lolled at his Club,
+and took his airings in the Park with all the seeming routine of one who
+had never abdicated these enjoyments for a day.
+
+He had promised, and really meant, to have looked after Martin's affairs
+on his reaching London; but it was almost a week after his return that
+he bethought him of his pledge, his attention being then called to
+the subject by finding on his table the visiting-card of Mr. Maurice
+Scanlan. Perhaps he was not sorry to have something to do; perhaps
+he had some compunctions of conscience for his forgetfulness; at all
+events, he sent his servant at once to Scanlan's hotel, with a request
+that he would call upon him as early as might be. An answer was speedily
+returned that Mr. Scanlan was about to start for Ireland that same
+afternoon, but would wait upon him immediately. The message was scarcely
+delivered when Scanlan himself appeared.
+
+Dressed in deep mourning, but with an easy complacency of manner that
+indicated very little of real grief, he threw himself into a chair,
+saying, "I pledge you my word of honor, it is only to yourself I 'd
+have come this morning, Mr. Massingbred, for I 'm actually killed with
+business. No man would believe the letters I've had to read and
+answer, the documents to examine, the deeds to compare, the papers to
+investigate--"
+
+"Is the business settled, then--or in train of settlement?" broke in
+Jack.
+
+"I suppose it _is_ settled," replied Scanlan, with a slight laugh. "Of
+course you know Mr. Martin is dead?"
+
+"Dead! Good heavens! When did this occur?"
+
+"We got the news--that is, Merl did--the day before yesterday. A friend
+of his who had remained at Baden to watch events started the moment he
+breathed his last, and reached town thirty hours before the mail; not,
+indeed, that the Captain has yet written a line on the subject to any
+one."
+
+"And what of the arrangement? Had you come to terms previously with
+Merl?"
+
+"No; he kept negotiating and fencing with us from day to day, now
+asking for this, now insisting on that, till the evening of his friend's
+arrival, when, by special appointment, I had called to confer with him.
+Then, indeed, he showed no disposition for further delay, but frankly
+told me the news, and said, 'The Conferences are over, Scanlan. I 'm the
+Lord of Cro' Martin.'"
+
+"And is this actually the case,--has he really established his claim in
+such a manner as will stand the test of law and the courts?"
+
+"He owns every acre of it; there's not a flaw in his title; he has
+managed to make all Martin's debts assume the shape of advances in hard
+cash. There is no trace of play transactions throughout the whole. I
+must be off, Mr. Massing-bred; there 's the chaise now at the door."
+
+"Wait one moment, I entreat of you. Can nothing be done? Is it too late
+to attempt any compromise?"
+
+"To be sure it is. He has sent off instructions already to serve the
+notice for ejectment. I 've got orders myself to warn the tenants not to
+pay the last half-year, except into court."
+
+"Why, are _you_ in Mr. Merl's service, then?" asked Jack, with one of
+his quiet laughs.
+
+"I am, and I am not," said Scanlan, reddening. "You know the compact I
+made with Lady Dorothea at Baden. Well, of course there is no longer
+any question about that. Still, if Miss Mary agrees to accept me, I 'll
+stand by the old family! There 's no end of trouble and annoyance we
+could n't give Merl before he got possession. I know the estate well,
+and where the worst fellows on it are to be found! It's one thing to
+have the parchments of a property, and it is another to be able to
+go live on it, and draw the rents. But I can't stay another minute.
+Good-bye, air. Any chance of seeing you in the West soon?"
+
+"I 'm not sure I 'll not go over to-morrow," said Jack, musing.
+
+"I suppose you are going to blarney the constituency?" said Maurice,
+laughing heartily at his coarse conceit. Then suddenly seeing that
+Massingbred did not seem to relish the freedom, he hurriedly repeated
+his leave-takings, and departed.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXVIII. THE DARK SIDE OF A CHARACTER.
+
+"Ye might ken the style of these epistles by this time, Dinah," said Mr.
+Henderson, as he walked leisurely up and down a long low-ceilinged room,
+and addressed himself to a piece of very faded gentility, who sat at a
+writing-table. "She wants to hear naething but what she likes, and, as
+near as may be, in her ain words too."
+
+"I always feel as if I was copying out the same letter every time I
+write," whined out a weak, sickly voice.
+
+"The safest thing ye could do," replied he, gravely. "She never tires
+o' reading that everybody on the estate is a fule or a scoundrel, and
+ye canna be far wrang when ye say the worst o' them all. Hae ye told her
+aboot the burnin' at Kyle-a-Noe?"
+
+"Yes, I have said that you have little doubt it was malicious."
+
+"And hae ye said that there's not a sixpence to be had out of the whole
+townland of Kiltimmon?"
+
+"I have. I have told her that, except Miss Mary herself, nobody would
+venture into the barony."
+
+"The greater fule yerself, then," said he, angrily. "Couldna ye see that
+she'll score this as a praise o' the young leddy's courage? Ye maun just
+strike it out, ma'am, and say that the place is in open rebellion--"
+
+"I thought you bade me say that Miss Mary had gone down there and spoken
+to the people--"
+
+"I bade ye say," broke he angrily in, "that Miss Mary declared no rent
+should be demanded o' them in their present distress; that she threw
+the warrants into the fire, and vowed that if we called a sale o' their
+chattels, she 'd do the same at the castle, and give the people the
+proceeds."
+
+"You only said that she was in such a passion that she declared she 'd
+be right in doing so."
+
+"I hae nae time for hair-splitting, ma'am. I suppose if she had a right
+she 'd exercise it! Put down the words as I gie them to ye! Ye hae no
+forgotten the conspeeracy?"
+
+"I gave it exactly as you told me, and I copied out the two paragraphs
+in the papers about it, beginning, 'Great scandal,' and 'If our landed
+gentry expect--'"
+
+"That's right; and ye hae added the private history of Joan? They 'll
+make a fine thing o' that on the trial, showing the chosen associate
+o' a young leddy to hae been naething better than--Ech! what are ye
+blubberin' aboot,--is it yer feelin's agen? Ech! ma'am, ye are too
+sentimental for a plain man like me!"
+
+This rude speech was called up by a smothering effort to conceal
+emotion, which would not be repressed, but burst forth in a violent fit
+of sobbing.
+
+"I know you didn't mean it. I know you were not thinking--"
+
+"If ye canna keep your ain counsel, ye must just pay the cost o' it,"
+said he, savagely. "Finish the letter there, and let me send it to the
+post. I wanted ye to say a' about the Nelligans comin' up to visit
+Miss Mary, and she goin' ower the grounds wi' them, and sendin' them
+pineapples and grapes, and how that the doctor's girls are a'ways wi'
+her, and that she takes old Catty out to drive along wi' herself in
+the pony phaeton, which is condescendin' in a way her Leddyship will no
+approve o'. There was mony a thing beside I had in my head, but ye hae
+driven them a' clean awa' wi' your feelin's!" And he gave the last word
+with an almost savage severity.
+
+"Bide a wee!" cried he, as she was folding up the letter. "Ye may add
+that Mister Scanlan has taken to shootin' over the preserves we were
+keepin' for the Captain, and if her Leddyship does not wish to banish
+the woodcocks a'the-gither, she 'd better gie an order to stop him.
+Young Nelli-gan had a special permission from Miss Mary hersel' and if
+it was na that he canna hit a haystack at twenty yards, there 'd no be
+a cock pheasant in the demesne! I think I 'm looking at her as she reads
+this," said he, with a malicious grin. "Ech, sirs, won't her great black
+eyebrows meet on her forehead, and her mouth be drawn in till never a
+bit of a red lip be seen! Is na that a chaise I see comin' up the road?"
+cried he, suddenly. "Look yonder!"
+
+"I thought I saw something pass," said she, trying to strain her eyes
+through the tears that now rose to them.
+
+"It's a post-chaise wi' twa trunks on the top. I wonder who's comin' in
+it?" said Henderson, as he opened the sash-door, and stood awaiting the
+arrival. The chaise swept rapidly round the beech copse, and drew up
+before the door; the postilion, dismounting, lowered the steps, and
+assisted a lady to alight. She threw back her veil as she stood on the
+ground, and Kate Henderson, somewhat jaded-looking and pale from her
+journey, was before her father. A slight flush--very slight--rose to
+his face as he beheld her, and without uttering a word he turned and
+re-entered the house.
+
+"Ye are aboot to see a visitor, ma'am," said he to his wife; and, taking
+his hat, passed out of the room. Meanwhile Kate watched the postboy as
+he untied the luggage and deposited it at her side.
+
+"Did n't I rowl you along well, my Lady?--ten miles in little more than
+an hour," said he, pointing to his smoking cattle.
+
+"More speed than we needed," said she, with a melancholy smile, while
+she placed some silver in his hand.
+
+"What's this here, my Lady? It's like one of the owld tenpenny bits,"
+said he, turning over and over a coin as he spoke.
+
+"It's French money," said she, "and unfortunately I have got none other
+left me."
+
+"Sure they'll give you what you want inside," said he, pointing towards
+the house.
+
+"No, no; take this. It is a crown piece, and they'll surely change it
+for you in the town." And so saying, she turned towards the door.
+When she made one step towards it, however, she stopped. A painful
+irresolution seemed to possess her; but, recovering it, she turned the
+handle and entered.
+
+"We did not know you were coming; at least, he never told me," said her
+stepmother, in a weak, broken voice, as she arose from her seat.
+
+"There was no time to apprise you," said Kate, as she walked towards the
+fire and leaned her arm on the chimney-piece.
+
+"You came away suddenly, then? Had anything unpleasant--was there any
+reason--"
+
+"I had been desirous of leaving for some time back. Lady Dorothea only
+gave her consent on Tuesday last,--I think it was Tuesday; but my head
+is not very clear, for I am somewhat tired." There was an indescribable
+sadness in the way these simple words were uttered and in the sigh which
+followed them.
+
+"I 'm afraid he 'll not be pleased at it!" said the other, timidly.
+
+Another sigh, but still weaker than the former, was Kate's only reply.
+
+"And how did you leave Mr. Martin? They tell us here that his case is
+hopeless," said Mrs. Henderson.
+
+"He is very ill, indeed; the doctors give no hope of saving him. Is Miss
+Martin fully aware of his state?"
+
+"Who can tell? We scarcely ever see her. You know that she never was
+very partial to your father, and latterly there has been a greater
+distance than ever between them. They differ about everything; and with
+that independent way he has--"
+
+A wide stare from Kate's full dark eyes, an expression of astonishment,
+mingled with raillery, in her features, here arrested the speaker, who
+blushed deeply in her embarrassment.
+
+"Go on," said Kate, gently. "Pray continue, and let me hear what it is
+that his independence accomplishes."
+
+"Oh, dear!" sighed the other. "I see well you are not changed, Kate.
+You have come back with your old haughty spirit, and sure you know well,
+dear, that he 'll not bear it."
+
+"I 'll not impose any burden on his forbearance. A few days' shelter--a
+week or two at furthest--will not be, perhaps, too much to ask."
+
+"So, then, you have a situation in view, Kate?" asked she, more eagerly.
+
+"The world is a tolerably wide one, and I 'm sure there is room for me
+somewhere, even without displacing another. But let us talk of anything
+else. How are the Nelligans? and Joe, what is he doing?"
+
+"The old people are just as you left them; but Mr. Joseph is a great
+man now,--dines with the Lord-Lieutenant, and goes into all the grand
+society of Dublin."
+
+"Is he spoiled by his elevation?"
+
+"Your father thinks him haughtier than he used to be; but many say that
+he is exactly what he always was. Mrs. Nelligan comes up frequently to
+the cottage now, and dines with Miss Martin. I 'm sure I don't know how
+my Lady would like to see her there."
+
+"She is not very likely," said Kate, dryly.
+
+"Why not?"
+
+"I mean, that nothing is less probable than Lady Dorothea's return
+here."
+
+"I suppose not!" half sighed Mrs. Henderson, for hers was one of those
+sorrowful temperaments that extract only the bitter from the cup of
+life. In reality, she had little reason to wish for Lady Dorothea's
+presence, but still she could make a "very good grievance" out of her
+absence, and find it a fitting theme for regret. "What reason do you
+mean to give for your coming home, Kate, if he should ask you?" inquired
+she, after a pause.
+
+"That I felt dissatisfied with my place," replied Kate, coldly.
+
+"And we were always saying what a piece of good luck it was for you to
+be there! Miss Mary told Mrs. Nelligan--it was only the other day--that
+her uncle could n't live without you,--that you nursed him, and read to
+him, and what not; and as to her Ladyship, that she never took a drive
+in the carriage, or answered a note, without asking your advice first."
+
+"What a profound impression Miss Martin must have received of my talents
+for intrigue!" said Kate, sneeringly.
+
+"I believe not. I think she said something very kind and good-natured,
+just as if it was only people who had really very great gifts that could
+condescend to make themselves subservient without humiliation. I know
+she said 'without humiliation,' because your father laughed when he
+heard of it, and remarked, 'If it's Kate's humility they like, they are
+assuredly thankful for small mercies!"
+
+"I should like to go over and see Miss Martin. What distance is it from
+this to the cottage?"
+
+"It's full three miles; but it's all through the demesne."
+
+"I'm a good walker, and I'll go," said she, rising. "But first, might I
+ask for a little refreshment,--a cup of tea? Oh, I forgot," added she,
+smiling, "tea is one of the forbidden luxuries here."
+
+"No; but your father doesn't like to see it in the daytime. If you'd
+take it in your own room--"
+
+"Of course, and be most thankful. Am I to have the little room with the
+green paper, where I used to be, long ago?"
+
+"Well, indeed, I can scarcely tell. The bed was taken down last autumn;
+and as we never thought of your coming home--"
+
+"Home!" sighed Kate, involuntarily.
+
+"But come into my room, and I 'll fetch you a cup of tea directly."
+
+"No, no; it is better not to risk offending him," said Kate, calmly. "I
+remember, now, that this was one of his antipathies. Give me anything
+else, for I have not eaten to-day."
+
+While her stepmother went in search of something to offer her, Kate sat
+down beside the fire, deep in thought. She had removed her bonnet, and
+her long silky hair fell in rich masses over her neck and shoulders,
+giving a more fixed expression to her features, which were of deathlike
+paleness. And so she sat, gazing intently on the fire, as though
+she were reading her very destiny in the red embers before her. Her
+preoccupation of mind was such that she never noticed the opening of
+the door, nor remarked that her father had entered. The noise of a chair
+being moved suddenly startled her. She looked up, and there he stood,
+his hat on his head and his arms closely folded on his breast, at the
+opposite side of the fire.
+
+"Well, lassie," said he, after a long and steady stare at her, "ye hae
+left your place, or been turned oot o' it,--whilk is the case?"
+
+"I came away of my own accord," said she, calmly.
+
+"And against my Leddy's wish?"
+
+"No, with her full consent."
+
+"And how did ye do it? for in her last letter to my sel', she says, 'I
+desire ye, therefore, to bear in mind that any step she takes on this
+head'--meaning about going away--'shall have been adopted in direct
+opposition to my wishes.' What has ye done since that?"
+
+"I have succeeded in convincing her Ladyship that I was right in leaving
+her!" said Kate.
+
+"Was it the force of your poleetical convictions that impelled ye to
+this course?" said he, with a bitter grin, "for they tell me ye are a
+rare champion o' the rights o' the people, and scruple not to denounce
+the upper classes, while ye eat their bread."
+
+"I denounce no one; nor, so far as I know myself, is ingratitude amongst
+my faults."
+
+"Maybe, if one were to tak' your ain narrative for it, ye hae nae faults
+worse than mere failings! But this is na telling me why ye left my
+Leddy."
+
+Kate made no answer, but sat steadily watching the fire.
+
+"Ye wad rayther, mayhap, that I asked hersel' aboot it! Well, be it so.
+And noo comes anither point. Do ye think that if your conduct has in
+any way given displeasure to your mistress, or offended those in whose
+service ye were,--do ye think, I say, that ye hae the right to involve
+_me_ in your shame and disgrace?"
+
+"Do you mean," said she, calmly, "that I had no right to come here?"
+
+"It 's just exactly what I mean; that if ye canna mak' friends for
+yoursel', ye ought not to turn away those whilk befriend your family."
+
+"But what was I to have done, then?" said she, gently. "There were
+circumstances that required--imperatively required me--to leave Lady
+Dorothea--"
+
+"Let me hear them," said he, breaking in, "It would lead me to speak of
+others than myself,--of events which are purely family matters,--were I
+to enter upon this theme. Besides," said she, rising, "I am not, so far
+as I know, on my trial. There is not anything laid to my charge. I have
+no apologies to render."
+
+At this moment her stepmother appeared with a tray at the door, and
+seeing Henderson, endeavored to retire unobserved, but his quick eye
+had already detected her, and he cried out, "Come here,--ye canna do
+too much honor to a young leddy who has such a vara profound esteem
+for hersel'! Cake and wine! my faith! No but ye 'll deem it vara vulgar
+fare, after the dainties ye hae been used to! And yet, lassie, these are
+nae the habits here!"
+
+"She has eaten nothing to-day!" meekly observed her stepmother.
+
+"My fayther wad hae askit her hoo much has she earned the day?" said
+Henderson, severely.
+
+"You are quite right, sir," broke in Kate,--"I have earned nothing. Not
+just yet," added she, as her stepmother pressed a glass of wine on her
+acceptance; "a little later, perhaps. I have no appetite now."
+
+"Are ye sae stupid, ma'am, that ye canna see ye are dealin' wi' a fine
+leddy, wha is no obleeged to hae the same mind twa minutes thegither?
+Ye 'll hae to train wee Janet to be a' ready for whate'er caprice is
+uppermost. But mine me, lassie,"--here he turned a look of stern meaning
+towards her,--"ye hae tried for mony a lang day to subdue _me_ to your
+whims and fancies, as they tell me ye hae done wi' sae mony others, and
+ye are just as far fra it noo as the first time ye tried it. Ye canna
+cheat nor cajole _me! I_ know ye!" And with these words, uttered in a
+tone of intense passion, he slowly walked out of the room.
+
+"Had he been angry with you?--had anything occurred before I came in?"
+asked her stepmother.
+
+"Very little," sighed Kate, wearily. "He was asking me why I came here,
+I believe. I could scarcely tell him; perhaps I don't very well know,
+myself."
+
+"He can't get it out of his head," said the other, in a low, stealthy
+whisper, "that, if you should leave Lady Dorothea, he will be turned
+away out of the stewardship. He is always saying it,--he repeats it even
+in his dreams. But for that, he 'd not have met you so--so--unkindly."
+
+Kate pressed her hand affectionately, and smiled a thankful
+acknowledgment of this speech. "And the cottage," said she, rallying
+suddenly, "is about three miles off?"
+
+"Not more. But you could scarcely walk there and back again. Besides, it
+is already growing late, and you have no chance of seeing Miss Mary if
+you 're not there by breakfast-time, since, when she comes home of an
+evening, she admits no one. She reads or studies, I believe, all the
+evening."
+
+"I think she'd see me," said Kate; "I should have so much to tell her
+about her friends. I 'm sure she 'd see _me_,--at least, I'll try."
+
+"But you'll eat something,--you 'll at least drink a glass of wine
+before you set out?"
+
+"I do not like to refuse you," said Kate, smiling good-naturedly, "but I
+could n't swallow now. I have a choking feeling here in my throat, like
+a heavy cold, that seems as though it would suffocate me. Good-bye, for
+a while. I shall be quite well, once I 'm in the open air. Good-bye!"
+And, so saying, she wrapped her shawl around her, and motioning a
+farewell with her hand, set out on her errand.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIX. THE COTTAGE.
+
+It was one of those fresh and breezy days where brilliant flashes
+of sunlight alternate with deep shadow, making of every landscape a
+succession of pictures, that Kate Henderson set out on her way to the
+cottage. Her path led through the demesne, but it was as wild as any
+forest scene in Germany, now wending through dark woods, now issuing
+forth over swelling lawns, from which the view extended many a mile
+away,--at one moment displaying the great rugged mountains of Connemara,
+and at another, the broad blue sea, heaving heavily, and thundering in
+sullen roar against the rocks.
+
+The fast-flitting clouds, the breezy grass, the wind-shaken foliage, and
+the white-crested waves, all were emblems of life; there was motion and
+sound and conflict! and yet to her heart, as she walked along, these
+influences imparted no sense of pleasure or relief. For a few seconds,
+perhaps, would she suddenly awake to the consciousness of the fair scene
+before her, and murmur to herself, perchance, the lines of some favorite
+poet; but in another moment her gloomy thoughtfulness was back again,
+and with bent-down head was she again moving onward. At times she
+walked rapidly forward, and then, relaxing her pace, she would stroll
+listlessly along, as though no object engaged her. And so was it in
+reality,--her main desire being to be free, in the open air; to be from
+beneath that roof whose shadow seemed to darken her very heart! Could
+that haughty spirit have humbled itself in sorrow, she might have found
+relief; but her proud nature had no such resource, and in her full heart
+injury and wrong had alone their place.
+
+"And this," burst she forth at length,--"and this is Home! this the
+dreamland of those far away over the seas,--the cherished spot of all
+affections,--the quiet nook wherein we breathe an atmosphere of love,
+blending our lives with all dearest to us. Is it, then, that all is
+hollow, false, and untrue; or is it that I alone have no part in the
+happiness that is diffused around me? I know not which would be the
+sadder!"
+
+Thus, reasoning sadly, she went along, when suddenly, on the slope of a
+gentle hill in front of her, gracefully encircled with a young wood
+of larch and copper-beech, she caught sight of the cottage. It was a
+tasteful imitation of those seen in the Oberland, and with its wild
+background of lofty mountain, an appropriate ornament to the landscape.
+
+A small stream running over a rocky, broken bed formed the boundary of
+the little grounds, and over this a bridge of a single plank conducted
+the way to the cottage. The whole was simple and unpretending; there
+was none of that smart trimness which gives to such scenes the air of
+an imitation. The lawn, it is true, was neatly shaven, and the
+flower-plots, which broke its uniformity, clean from weeds; but the
+flowers were of the simplest kind,--the crocus and the daffodil had to
+stand no dangerous rivalry, and the hyacinth had nothing to vie with.
+
+Kate loitered for some time here, now gazing at the wild, stern
+landscape, now listening to the brawling rivulet, whose sounds were the
+only ones in the stillness. As she drew nigh the cottage, she found
+the windows of a little drawing-room open. She looked in: all was
+comfortable and neat-looking, but of the strictest simplicity. She next
+turned to the little porch, and pulled the bell; in a few seconds the
+sounds of feet were heard approaching, and a very old woman, whose
+appearance and dress were the perfection of neatness, appeared.
+
+"Don't you know me, Mrs. Broon?" said Kate, gently.
+
+"I do not, then, my Lady," said she, respectfully, "for my eyes is
+gettin' dimmer every day."
+
+"I 'm Kate Henderson, Mrs. Broon. Do you forget me?"
+
+"Indeed I do not," said Catty, gravely. "You were here with the master
+and my Lady?"
+
+"Yes. I went away with them to Germany; but I have come home for a
+while, and wish to pay my respects to Miss Mary."
+
+"She isn't at home to-day," was the dry response.
+
+"But she will return soon, I conclude. She'll be back some time in the
+evening, won't she?"
+
+"If she plazes it, she will. There's nobody to control or make her do
+but what she likes herself," said Catty.
+
+"I ask," said Kate, "because I'm a little tired. I've come off a long
+journey, and if you'd allow me to rest myself, and wait awhile in the
+hope of seeing Miss Martin, I'd be very thankful."
+
+"Come in, then," said Catty; but the faint sigh with which the words
+were uttered, gave but a scant significance of welcome.
+
+Kate followed her into the little drawing-room, and at a sign from the
+old woman, took a seat.
+
+"Miss Mary is quite well, I'm glad to hear," said Kate, endeavoring to
+introduce some conversation.
+
+"Will they ever come back?" asked the old woman, in a stern, harsh
+voice, while she paid no attention whatever to Kate's remark.
+
+"It is very unlikely," said Kate. "Your poor master had not long to live
+when I came away. He was sinking rapidly."
+
+"So I heard," muttered the other, dryly; "the last letter from Mr.
+Repton said 'he was n't expected.'"
+
+"I fear it will be a great shock to Miss Mary," said Kate.
+
+The old woman nodded her head slowly several times without speaking.
+
+"And, perhaps, cause great changes here?" continued Kate.
+
+"There's changes enough, and too many already," muttered Catty. "I
+remember the place upwards of eighty years. I was born in the little
+house to the right of the road as you come up from Kelly's mills. There
+was no mill there then, nor a school-house, no, nor a dispensary either!
+Musha, but the people was better off, and happier, when they had none of
+them."
+
+Kate smiled at the energy with which these words were uttered,
+surmising, rightfully, that Catty's condemnation of progress had a
+direct application to herself.
+
+"Now it's all readin' and writin', teachin' honest people to be rogues,
+and givin' them new contrivances to cheat their masters. When I knew
+Cro' Martin first," added she, almost fiercely, "there was n't a Scotch
+steward on the estate; but there was nobody turned out of his houldin',
+and there was n't a cabin unroofed to make the people seek shelter under
+a ditch."
+
+"The world would then seem growing worse every day," remarked Kate,
+quietly.
+
+"To be sure it is. Why would n't it? Money is in every one's heart.
+Nobody cares for his own flesh and blood. 'T is all money! What will I
+get if I take that farm over another man's head, or marry that girl that
+likes somebody better than me? 'Tis to be rich they're all strivin',
+and the devil never made people his own children so completely as by
+teachin' them to love goold!"
+
+"Your young mistress has but little of this spirit in her heart?" said
+Kate.
+
+"Signs on it! look at the life she leads: up before daybreak, and away
+many times before I 'm awake. She makes a cup of coffee herself, and
+saddles the pony, too, if Patsey is n't there to do it; and she 's off
+to Glentocher, or Knock-mullen, twelve, fourteen miles down the coast,
+with barley for one, and a bottle of wine for the other. Sometimes she
+has a basket with her, just a load to carry, with tay and shugar; ay,
+and--for she forgets nothing--toys for the children, too, and clothes,
+and even books. And then to see herself, she 's not as well dressed
+as her own maid used to be. There 's not a night she does n't sit up
+patchin' and piecin' her clothes. 'T is Billy at the cross-roads made
+her shoes last time for her, just because he was starvin' with nothing'
+to do. She ordered them, and she wears them, too; it makes him so proud,
+she says, to see them. And this is the niece of the Martins of
+Cro' Martin! without one of her kith or kin to welcome her home at
+nightfall,--without father or mother, brother or sister,--without a kind
+voice to say 'God bless her,' as she falls off to sleep many a time in
+that big chair there; and I take off her shoes without her knowin' it,
+she does be so weary and tired; and in her dhrames it 's always talking
+to the people, givin' them courage, and cheerin' them up, tellin' them
+there 's good times for every one; and once, the other evenin', she
+sang a bit of a song, thinkin' she was in Mat Leahy's cabin amusin' the
+children, and she woke up laughin', and said, 'Catty, I 've had such a
+pleasant dhrame. I thought I had little Nora, my godchild, on my knee,
+and was teachin' her "Why are the daisies in the grass?" I can't tell
+you how happy I felt!' There it was: the only thing like company to her
+poor heart was a dhrame!"
+
+"I do not wonder that you love her, Catty," said Kate; and the words
+fell tremulously from her lips.
+
+"Love her! what's the use of such as me lovin' her?" cried the old
+woman, querulously. "Sure, it's not one of my kind knows how good she
+is! If you only seen her comin' in here, after dark, maybe, wet and
+weary and footsore, half famished with cold and hunger,--out the whole
+livelong day, over the mountains, where there was fever and shakin'
+ague, and starvin' people, ravin' mad between disease and destitution;
+and the first word out of her mouth will be, 'Oh, Catty, how grateful
+you and I ought to be with our warm roof over us, and our snug fire to
+sit at,' never thinkin' of who she is and what she has the right to, but
+just makin' herself the same as _me_. And then she 'd tell me where she
+was, and what she seen, and how well the people was bearin' up under
+their trials,--all the things they said to her, for they 'd tell her
+things they would n't tell the priest. 'Catty,' said she, t' other
+night, 'it looks like heartlessness in me to be in such high spirits
+in the midst of all this misery here; but I feel as if my courage was a
+well that others were drinking out of; and when I go into a cabin, the
+sick man, as he turns his head round, looks happier, and I feel as if
+it was my spirit that was warmin' and cheerin' him; and when a poor
+sick sufferin' child looks up at me and smiles, I 'm ready to drop on my
+knees and thank God in gratitude.'"
+
+Kate covered her face with her hands, and never spoke; and now the old
+woman, warming with the theme she loved best, went on to tell various
+incidents and events of Mary's life,--the perilous accidents which
+befell her, the dangers she braved, the fatigues she encountered. Even
+recounted by _her_, there was a strange adventurous character that ran
+through these recitals, showing that Mary Martin, in all she thought and
+said and acted, was buoyed and sustained by a sort of native chivalry
+that made her actually court the incidents where she incurred the
+greatest hazard. It was plain to see what charm such traits possessed
+for her who recorded them, and how in her old Celtic blood ran the
+strong current of delight in all that pertained to the adventurous and
+the wild.
+
+"'Tis her own father's nature is strong in her," said Catty, with
+enthusiasm. "Show him the horse that nobody could back, tell him of a
+storm where no fisherman would launch his boat, point out a cliff that
+no man could climb, and let me see who 'd hould him! She 's so like him,
+that when there 's anything daring to be done you would n't know her
+voice from his own. There, now, I hear her without," cried the old
+woman, as, rising suddenly, she approached the window. "Don't you hear
+something?"
+
+"Nothing but the wind through the trees," said Kate.
+
+"Ay, but _I_ did, and my ears are older than yours. She's riding through
+the river now; I hear the water splashin'."
+
+Kate tried to catch the sounds, but could not; she walked out upon the
+lawn to listen, but except the brawling of the stream among the rocks,
+there was nothing to be heard.
+
+"D' ye see her comin'?" asked Catty, eagerly.
+
+"No. Your ears must have deceived you. There is no one coming."
+
+"I heard her voice, as I hear yours now. I heard her spake to the mare,
+as she always does when she 's plungin' into the river. There, now,
+don't you hear that?"
+
+"I hear nothing, I assure you, my dear Mrs. Broon. It is your own
+anxiety that is misleading you; but if you like, I 'll go down towards
+the river and see." And without waiting for a reply Kate hastened
+down the slope. As she went, she could not help reflecting over the
+superstition which attaches so much importance to these delusions,
+giving them the character of actual warnings. It was doubtless from the
+mind dwelling so forcibly on Miss Martin's perilous life that the old
+woman's apprehensions had assumed this palpable form, and thus invented
+the very images which should react upon her with terror.
+
+"Just as I thought," cried Kate, as she stood on the bank of the stream;
+"all silent and deserted, no one within sight." And slowly she retraced
+her steps towards the cottage. The old woman stood at the door, pale and
+trembling; an attempt to smile was on her features, but her heart denied
+the courage of the effort.
+
+"Where is she now?" cried Catty, wildly. "She rang the bell this minute,
+and I heerd the mare trottin' round to the stable by herself, as she
+always does. But where 's Miss Mary?"
+
+"My dear Mrs. Broon," said Kate, in her kindest accents, "it is just as
+I told you. Your mind is anxious and uneasy about Miss Martin; you are
+unhappy at her absence, and you think at every stir you hear her coming;
+but I have been to the river-side, and there is no one there. I 'll go
+round to the stables, if you wish it."
+
+"There 's no tracks of a hoof on the gravel," muttered the old woman, in
+a broken voice; "there was nobody here!"
+
+"So I said," replied Kate. "It was a mere delusion,--a fancy."
+
+"A delusion,--a fancy!" cried Catty, scornfully; "that's the way they
+always spake of whatever they don't understand. It's easier to say that
+than confess you don't see how to explain a thing; but I heerd the same
+sounds before you came to-day; ay, and I went down to see why she was
+n't comin', and at the pool there was bubbles and froth on the water,
+just as if a baste had passed through, but no livin' thing to be seen.
+Was n't that a delusion, too?"
+
+"An accident, perchance. Only think, what lives of misery we should lead
+were we ever tracing our own fears, and connecting them with all the
+changes that go on around us!"
+
+"It's two days she's away, now," muttered the old woman, who only
+heeded her own thoughts; "she was to be back last night, or early this
+mornin'."
+
+"Where had she gone to?" asked Kate, who now saw that the other had
+lapsed into confidence.
+
+"She's gone to the islands!--to Innishmore, and maybe, on to Brannock!"
+
+"That's a long way out to sea," said Kate, thoughtfully; "but still, the
+weather is fine, and the day favorable. Had she any other object than
+pleasure in this excursion?"
+
+"Pleasure is it?" croaked Catty. "'Tis much pleasure she does be given
+herself! Her pleasure is to be where there 's fever and want,--in the
+lonely cabin, where the sick is lyin'! It 's to find a poor crayture
+that run away from home she 's gone now,--one Joan Landy. She's missin'
+this two months, and nobody knows where she 's gone to! and Miss Mary
+got so uneasy at last that she could n't sleep by night nor rest by
+day,--always talkin' about her, and say in' as much as it was all her
+fault; as if _she_ could know why she went, or where?"
+
+"Did she go alone on this errand, then?"
+
+"To be sure she did. Who could she have with her? She towld Loony she 'd
+want the boat with four men in it, and maybe to stay out three days, for
+she 'd go to all the islands before she came back."
+
+"Loony 's the best sailor on the coast, I 've heard; and with such
+weather as this there is no cause for alarm."
+
+Catty did not seem to heed the remark; she felt that within her against
+which the words of consolation availed but little, and she sat brooding
+sorrowfully and in silence.
+
+"The night will soon be fallin' now," said she, at last. "I hope she's
+not at sea!"
+
+In spite of herself, Kate Henderson caught the contagion of the old
+woman's terrors, and felt a dreamy, undefined dread of coming evil. As
+she looked out, however, at the calm and fair landscape, which, as
+day declined, grew each moment more still, she rallied from the gloomy
+thoughts, and said,--"I wish I knew how to be of any service to you,
+Mrs. Broon. If you could think of anything I could do--anywhere I could
+go--" She stopped suddenly at a gesture from the old woman, who, lifting
+her hand to impress silence, stood a perfect picture of eager anxiety
+to hear. Bending down her head, old Catty stood for several seconds
+motionless.
+
+"Don't ye hear it now?" broke she in. "Listen! I thought I heerd
+something like a wailin' sound far off, but it is the wind. See how the
+tree-tops are bendin'!--That's three times I heerd it now," said Catty.
+"If ye live to be as old as me, you 'll not think light of a warnin'.
+You think your hearin' better because you're younger; but I tell you
+that there 's sounds that only reach ears that are goin' to where the
+voices came from. When eyes grow dim to sights of this world, they are
+strainin' to catch a glimpse of them that's beyond it." Although no
+tears rose to her eyes, the withered face trembled in her agony, and her
+clasped hands shook in the suffering of her sorrow.
+
+Against impressions of this sort, Kate knew well enough how little
+reasoning availed, and she forbore to press arguments which she was
+aware would be unsuccessful. She tried, however, to turn the current of
+the old woman's thoughts, by leading her to speak of the condition of
+the country and the state of the people. Catty gave short, abrupt, and
+unwilling answers to all she asked, and Kate at length arose to take her
+leave.
+
+"You're goin' away, are ye?" said Catty, half angrily.
+
+"I have only just remembered that I have a long way to walk, and it is
+already growing late."
+
+"Ay, and ye 're impatient to be back again, at home, beside your own
+fire, with your own people. But _she_ has no home, and her own has
+deserted her!"
+
+"Mine has not many charms for me!" muttered Kate to herself.
+
+"It's happy for you that has father and mother," went on the old woman.
+"Them 's the only ones, after all!--the only ones that never loves the
+less, the less we desarve it! I don't wonder ye came back again!" And in
+a sort of envious bitterness Catty wished her a good-night.
+
+If the distance she had to walk was not shortened by the tenor of her
+thoughts, as little did she feel impatient to press onward. Dreary and
+sad enough were her reveries. Of the wild visionary ambitions which once
+had stirred her heart, there remained nothing but disappointments. She
+had but passed the threshold of life to find all dreary and desolate;
+but perhaps the most painful feeling of the moment was the fact that now
+pressed conviction on her, and told that in the humble career of such a
+one as Mary Martin there lay a nobler heroism and a higher devotion
+than in the most soaring path of political ambition, and that all the
+theorizing as to popular rights made but a sorry figure beside the
+actual benefits conferred by one true-hearted lover of her kind. "She
+is right, and I am wrong!" muttered she to herself. "In declining to
+entertain questions of statecraft she showed herself above, and not
+beneath, the proud position she had taken. The very lowliness of
+this task is its glory. Oh, if I could but win her confidence and be
+associated in such a labor! and yet my very birth denies me the prestige
+that hers confers." And then she thought of home, and all the coldness
+of that cheerless greeting smote upon her heart.
+
+The moon was up ere Kate arrived at her father's door. She tapped at
+it gently, almost timidly. Her stepmother, as if expecting her, came
+quickly, and in a low, cautious whisper told her that she would find her
+supper ready in her bedroom.
+
+"To-morrow, perhaps, he may be in better humor or better spirits.
+Good-night." And so Kate silently stole along to her room, her proud
+heart swelling painfully, and her tearless eye burning with all the heat
+of a burning brain.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXX. "A TEA-PARTY" AT MRS. CRONAN'S
+
+Once more, but for the last time, we are at Kilkieran. To a dreary day
+of incessant rain succeeded an evening still drearier. Wild gusts swept
+along the little shore, and shook the frail windows and ill-fitting
+doors of the cottages, while foam and sea-drift were wafted over the
+roofs, settling like snow-flakes on the tall cliffs above them. And yet
+it was midsummer! By the almanac the time was vouched to be the opening
+of the season; a fact amply corroborated by the fashionable assemblage
+then enjoying the hospitalities of Mrs. Cronan's tea-table. There they
+were, with a single exception, the same goodly company already presented
+to the reader in an early chapter of our story. We have already
+mentioned the great changes which time had worked in the appearance
+of the little watering-place. The fostering care of proprietorship
+withdrawn, the ornamental villa of the Martins converted into a
+miserable village inn, the works of the pier and harbor suspended, and
+presenting in their unfinished aspect the dreary semblance of ruin and
+decay,--all conspired with the falling fortunes of the people to make
+the scene a sad one. Little evidence of this decline, however, could be
+traced in the aspect of that pleasant gathering, animated with all its
+ancient taste for whist, scandal, and shrimps; their appetite for such
+luxuries seeming rather to have increased than diminished by years.
+Not that we presume to say they could claim any immunity against the
+irrevocable decrees of age. Unhappily, the confession may be deemed not
+exactly in accordance with gallantry; but it is strictly true, time
+had no more forgotten the living than the inanimate accessories of
+the picture. Miss Busk, of the Emporium, had grown more sour and more
+stately. The vinegar of her temperament was verging upon verjuice, and
+the ill opinion of mankind experience enforced had written itself
+very legibly on her features. The world had not improved upon her by
+acquaintance. Not so Captain Bodkin; fatter and more wheezy than ever,
+he seemed to relish life rather more than when younger. He had given up,
+too, that long struggle with himself about bathing, and making up his
+mind to suffer no "sea-change;" he was, therefore, more cheerful than
+before.
+
+As for Mrs. Cronan, "the little comforts she was used to" had sorely
+diminished by the pressure of the times, and, in consequence, she
+drew unlimited drafts upon the past to fill up the deficiencies of the
+present. Strange enough is it, that the faults and follies of society
+are just as adhesive ingredients as its higher qualities! These
+people had grown so used to each other in all their eccentric ways
+and oddities, that they had become fond of them; like a pilot long
+accustomed to rocks and sandbanks, they could only steer their course
+where there was something to avoid!
+
+The remainder of the goodly company had grown stouter or thinner,
+jollier or more peevish, as temperament inclined; for it is with human
+nature as with wine: if the liquor does not get racier with years, it
+degenerates sadly.
+
+The first act of the whist and backgammon playing was over, and the
+party now sat, stood, crouched, lounged, or lay, as chance and the state
+of the furniture permitted, at supper. At the grand table, of course,
+were the higher dignitaries, such as Father Maher, the Captain, Miss
+Busk, and Mrs. Clinch; but cockles were eaten, and punch discussed in
+various very odd quarters; bursts of joyous laughter, too, came from
+dark pantries, and sounds of merriment mingled with the jangling crash
+of kitchen utensils. Reputations were roasted and pancakes fried,
+characters and chickens alike mangled, and all the hubbub of a festival
+prevailed in a scene where the efforts of the fair hostess were directed
+to produce an air of unblemished elegance and gentility.
+
+Poor Clinch, the revenue officer, who invariably eat what he called "his
+bit" in some obscure quarter, alone and companionless, was twice "had
+up" before the authorities for the row and uproar that prevailed, and
+underwent a severe cross-examination, "as to where he was when Miss
+Cullenane was making the salad," and, indeed, cut a very sorry figure
+at the conclusion of the inquiry. All the gayeties and gravities of
+the scene, however, gradually toned down as the serious debate of the
+evening came on; which was no other than the lamentable condition of
+the prospects of Kilkieran, and the unanimous opinion of the ruinous
+consequences that must ensue from the absence of the proprietor.
+
+"We 've little chance of getting up the news-room now," said the
+Captain. "The Martins won't give a sixpence for anything."
+
+"It is something to give trade an impulse we want, sir," broke in
+Miss Busk,--"balls and assemblies; evening reunions of the _elite_ of
+society, where the elegance of the toilet should rival the _distingue_
+air of the company."
+
+"That's word for word out of the 'Intelligence,'" cried the Captain.
+"It's unparliamentary to quote the newspapers."
+
+"I detest the newspapers," broke in Miss Busk, angrily; "after
+advertising the Emporium for two seasons in the 'Galway Celt,' they gave
+me a leading article beginning, 'As the hot weather is now commencing,
+and the season for fashion approaches, we cannot better serve the
+interests of our readers than by directing attention to the elegant
+"Symposium!"' 'Symposium!'--I give you my word of honor that's what they
+put it."
+
+"On my conscience! it might have been worse," chuckled out the Captain.
+
+"It was young Nelligan explained to me what it was," resumed Miss Busk;
+"and Scanlan said, 'I'd have an action against them for damages.'"
+
+"Keep out of law, my dear!--keep out of law!" sighed Mrs. Cronan. "See
+to what it has reduced me! I, that used to go out in my own coach, with
+two men in green and gold; that had my house in town, and my house in
+the country; that had gems and ornaments such as a queen might wear! And
+there's all that's left me now!" And she pointed to a brooch about the
+size of a cheese-plate, where a melancholy gentleman in uniform was
+represented, with a border of mock pearls around him. "The last pledge
+of affection!" sobbed she.
+
+"Of course you wouldn't pledge it, my dear," muttered the deaf old Mrs.
+Few; "and they'd give you next to nothing on it, besides."
+
+[Illustration: 324]
+
+"We 'll have law enough here soon, it seems," said Mrs. Cronan, angrily;
+for the laugh this blunder excited was by no means flattering and
+pleasant. "There 's Magennis's action first for trial at the Assizes."
+
+"That will be worth hearing," said Mrs. Clinch. "They 'll have the first
+lawyers from Dublin on each side."
+
+"Did you hear the trick they played off on Joe Nelligan about it?" asked
+the Captain. "It was cleverly done. Magennis found out, some way or
+other, that Joe wanted to be engaged against him; and so what does he
+do but gets a servant dressed up in the Martin livery, and sends him to
+Joe's house on the box of a coach, inside of which was a gentleman
+that begged a word with the Counsellor. 'You 're not engaged, I hope,
+Counsellor Nelligan,' says he, 'in Magennis against Martin?' 'No,' says
+Joe, for he caught a glimpse of the livery. 'You're quite free?' says
+the other. 'Quite free,' says he. 'That's all I want, then,' says he;
+'here's your brief, and here's your retainer;' and he put both down on
+the table, and when Joe looked down he saw he was booked for Magennis.
+You may imagine how he felt; but he never uttered a word, for there was
+no help for it."
+
+"And do you mean to tell me," cried Mrs. Clinch, "that the lawyers can't
+help themselves, but must just talk and rant and swear for any one that
+asks them first?"
+
+"It's exactly what I mean, ma'am," responded the Captain. "They 've no
+more choice in the matter than the hangman has as to who be 'll hang."
+
+"Then I'd as soon be a gauger!" exclaimed the lady, with a contemptuous
+glance at poor Clinch, who winced under the observation.
+
+"But I don't see what they wanted young Nelligan for," said Miss Busk;
+"what experience or knowledge has _he?_"
+
+"He's just the first man of the day," said Bodkin. "They tell me that
+whether it be to crook out a flaw in the enemy's case, to pick a hole in
+a statement, to crush a witness, or cajole the jury, old Repton himself
+is n't his equal."
+
+"I suppose, from the airs he gives himself, he must be something
+wonderful," said Mrs. Cronan.
+
+"Well, now, I differ from you there, ma'am," replied Bodkin. "I think
+Joe is just what he always was. He was cold, silent, and distant as a
+boy, and he 's the same as a man. Look at him when he comes down here at
+the Assizes, down to the town where his father is selling glue and hides
+and tenpenny-nails, and he 's just as easy and unconstrained as if the
+old man was Lord of Cro' Martin Castle."
+
+"That's the height of impertinence," broke in Miss Busk; "it's only
+real blood has any right to rise above the depreciating accidents of
+condition. I know it by myself."
+
+"Well, I wonder what he 'll make of this case, anyhow," said feodkin, to
+escape a controversy he had no fancy for. "They tell me that no action
+can lie on it. It's not abduction--"
+
+"For shame, Captain; you forget there are ladies here," said Mrs.
+Clinch.
+
+"Indeed I don't," sighed he, with a half-comic melancholy in his look.
+
+"I'll tell you how they do it, sir," chimed in Father Maher. "Whenever
+there 's anything in law that never was foreseen or provided for,
+against which there is neither act nor statute, they 've one grand and
+unfailing resource,--they charge it as a conspiracy. I 've a brother an
+attorney, and he tells me that there is n't a man, woman, or child in
+the kingdom but could be indicted for doing something by a conspiracy."
+
+"It's a great comfort to know that," said Bodkin, gravely.
+
+"And what can they do to her if she's found guilty?" asked Mrs. Cronan.
+
+"Make her smart for the damages, ma'am; leave her something less to
+expend on perversion and interference with the people," said the priest.
+"The parish isn't the same since she began visiting this one and reading
+to that. Instead of respect and confidence in their spiritual guides,
+the people are running after a young girl with a head full of wild
+schemes and contrivances. We all know by this time how these things end,
+and the best receipt to make a Protestant begins, 'First starve your
+Papist.'"
+
+"I rise to order," called out Bodkin. "We agreed we'd have no polemics
+nor party discussions."
+
+"Why am I appealed to, then, for explanations that involve them?"
+cried the priest, angrily. "I'm supported, too, in my observations by a
+witness none will dispute,--that Scotchman, Henderson--"
+
+"By the way, isn't his daughter come home to him?" asked Bodkin, eager
+for a diversion.
+
+"Indeed she is, sir; and a pretty story there is about it, too. Miss
+Busk knows it all," said Mrs. Cronan.
+
+"I have it in confidence, ma'am, from Jemima Davis,--Lady Dorothea's
+second maid; but I don't think it a fit subject for public
+conversation."
+
+"And ain't we in committee here?" chimed in Bodkin; "have we any secrets
+from each other?" The racy laugh of the old fellow, as he threw a
+knowing glance around the table, rather disconcerted the company. "Let's
+hear about Henderson's daughter."
+
+"The story is soon told, sir. Lady Dorothea detected her endeavoring to
+draw young Martin into a private marriage. The artful creature, by
+some means or other, had obtained such an insight into the young man's
+difficulties that she actually terrorized over his weak mind.
+She discovered, too, it is suspected, something rather more than
+indiscretions on his part."
+
+A long low whistle from the priest seemed to impart a kind of gratified
+surprise at this announcement.
+
+"He had got into a habit of signing his name, they say; and whether he
+signed it to something he had no right to, or signed another name by
+mistake--"
+
+"Oh, for shame," broke in Bodkin; "that wouldn't be one bit like a
+Martin."
+
+"Perhaps you are acquainted with all the circumstances better than
+myself, sir?" said Miss Busk, bristling up with anger. "Maybe you 've
+heard how the Henderson girl was turned away out of the French duke's
+family,--how she was found in correspondence with the leaders of the mob
+in Paris? Maybe, sir, you are aware that she has some mysterious hold
+over her father, and he dares not gainsay one word she says?"
+
+"I don't know one word of it; and if it wasn't thought rude, I'd say I
+don't believe it, either," said Bodkin, stoutly.
+
+"I believe the worst that could be said of her," said Mrs. Clinch.
+
+"Well, well, make her as bad as you like; but how does that prove
+anything against young Martin? and if you can find nothing heavier to
+say of him than that he wanted to marry a very handsome girl--"
+
+"A low creature!" broke in Miss Busk.
+
+"The lowest of the low!" chimed in Mrs. Cronan.
+
+"An impudent, upsetting minx!" added Mrs. Clinch. "Nothing would serve
+her but a post-chaise the morning she arrived by the mail for Dublin;
+and, signs on it, when she got home she had n't money to pay for it."
+
+"It was n't that she left her place empty-handed, then," said Miss Busk.
+"Jemima tells me that she managed the whole house,--paid for everything;
+and we all know what comes of that."
+
+Miss Busk, in delivering this sentiment, was seated with her back to
+the door, towards which suddenly every eye was now turned in mingled
+astonishment and confusion; she moved round to see the cause, and there
+beheld the very object of her commentary standing close behind her
+chair. Closely wrapped in a large cloak, the hood of which she wore
+over her head, her tall figure looked taller and more imposing in its
+motionless attitude.
+
+"I have to ask pardon for this intrusion, ladies," said she, calmly;
+"but you will forgive me when I tell the reason of it. I have just
+received very sad tidings, which ought to be conveyed to Miss Martin;
+she is at the islands, and I have no means of following her, unless Mr.
+Clinch will kindly lend me the revenue boat--"
+
+"And accompany you, I hope," broke in Mrs. Clinch, with a sneer.
+
+Kate did not notice the taunting remark, but went on, "You will be
+grieved to hear that Mr. Martin is no more."
+
+"Martin dead!" muttered the Captain.
+
+"Dead! When did he die?" "Where did it happen?" "How?" "Of what
+malady?" "Are his remains coming home?" were asked in quick succession
+by several voices.
+
+"This letter will tell you all that I know myself," said she, laying it
+on the table. "May I venture to hope Mr. Clinch will so far oblige me?
+The fishermen say the sea is too rough for their craft."
+
+"It's not exactly on the King's service, I opine, ma'am," broke in Mrs.
+Clinch; "but of course he is too gallant to oppose your wishes."
+
+"Faith! if you wanted any one with you, and would accept of myself,"
+broke in Bodkin, "I'm ready this minute; not that exactly salt water is
+my element."
+
+"The young lady is accustomed to travel alone, or she is much belied,"
+said Miss Busk, with a sneer.
+
+"I suppose you'd better let her have the boat, Clinch," said his wife,
+in a whisper. "There's no knowing what might come of it if you refused."
+
+"I 'll go down and muster the crew for you, Miss Henderson," said
+Clinch, not sorry to escape, although the exchange was from a warm cabin
+to the beating rain without.
+
+"Poor Martin!" sighed Bodkin; "he was the first of the family for many a
+long year that did n't breathe his last under his own roof. I 'm sure it
+weighed heavily on him."
+
+"I trust his son will follow his example, nevertheless," said the
+priest. "I don't want to see one of the name amongst us."
+
+"You might have worse, Father Maher," said Bodkin, angrily.
+
+And now a lively discussion ensued as to the merits of him they
+had lost, for the most part with more of charity than many of their
+dissertations; from this they branched off into speculations about the
+future. Would the "present man" reside at home? would her Ladyship come
+back? what would be Mary's position? how would Scanlan fare? what of
+Henderson, too? In fact, casualties of every kind were debated,
+and difficulties started, that they might be as readily reconciled.
+Meanwhile Kate was hastening down to the shore, followed, rather than
+escorted, by little Clinch, who even in the darkness felt that the
+conjugal eye was upon him.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXI. THE BRANNOCK ISLANDS
+
+A little to the northwest of the island of Innishmore are scattered a
+number of small islets, some scarcely more than barren rocks, called
+the Brannocks. One of these alone was inhabited, and that by a single
+family. No isolation could be more complete than that of these poor
+people, who thus dwelt amid the wide waste of waters, never seeing the
+face of a stranger, and only at long intervals visiting the mainland.
+Indeed the only intercourse they could be said to maintain with their
+fellow-men was when by chance they fell in with some homeward-bound ship
+at sea, and sold the little produce of their nets; for they lived by
+fishing, and had no other subsistence.
+
+The largest of these islands was called "Brannock-buoy," or the Yellow
+Brannock, from the flower of a kind of crocus which grew profusely over
+it. It was a wild, desolate spot, scarcely rising above the waves around
+it, save in one quarter, where a massive column of rock rose to the
+height of several hundred feet, and formed the only shelter against the
+swooping wind, which came without break or hindrance from the far-away
+shores of Labrador. At the foot of this strong barrier--so small and
+insignificant as to escape notice from the sea--stood the little cabin
+of Owen Joyce. Built in a circular form, the chimney in the middle, the
+rude structure resembled some wigwam of the prairies rather than the
+home of civilized beings.
+
+Certain low partitions within subdivided the space into different
+chambers, making the centre the common apartment of the family, where
+they cooked and ate and chatted; for, with all their poverty and
+privation, theirs was a life not devoid of its own happiness, nor did
+they believe that their lot was one to repine at.
+
+Seasons of unprofitable labor, years of more or less pressure, they had
+indeed experienced, but actual want had never visited them; sickness,
+too, was almost as rare. Owen Joyce was, at the time we speak of,
+upwards of eighty; and although his hair was white as snow, his cheek
+was ruddy, his white teeth were perfect, and his eye--like that of
+Moses--"was not dim." Surrounded by his children and grandchildren, the
+old man lived happy and contented, his daily teaching being to impress
+upon them the blessings they derived from a life so sheltered from all
+the accidents of fortune; to have, as he called the island, "the little
+craft all their own."
+
+The traits of race and family, the limited range of their intercourse
+with the world, served to make them all wonderfully alike, not only in
+feature but expression; so that even the youngest child had something of
+the calm, steadfast look which characterized the old man. The jet-black
+hair and eyes and the swarthy skin seemed to indicate a Spanish origin,
+and gave them a type perfectly distinctive and peculiar.
+
+In the midst of them moved one who, though dressed in the light-blue
+woollen kirtle, the favorite costume of the islands, bore in her fresh
+bright features the traces of a different blood; her deep blue eye, soft
+and almost sleepy, her full, well-curved lips, were strong contrasts to
+the traits around her. The most passing glance would have detected
+that she was not "one of them," nor had she been long an inmate of this
+dwelling.
+
+It chanced that some short time before, one of Joyce's sons, in boarding
+an outward-bound American ship, had heard of a young countrywoman
+who, having taken her passage for New York, no sooner found herself at
+sea--parted, as she deemed it, forever from home and country--than she
+gave way to the most violent grief; so poignant, indeed, was her sorrow
+that the captain compassionately offered to relinquish her passage-money
+if Joyce would take charge of her, and re-land her on the shores of
+Ireland. The offer was accepted, and the same evening saw her safely
+deposited on the rocky island of Brannock. Partly in gratitude to her
+deliverer, partly in the indulgence of a secret wish, she asked leave
+to remain with them and be their servant; the compact was agreed to, and
+thus was she there.
+
+Theirs was not a life to engender the suspicions and distrusts which
+are current in the busier walks of men. None asked her a reason for her
+self-banishment, none inquired whether the cause of her exile was
+crime or misfortune. They had grown to feel attachment to her for the
+qualities of her gentle, quiet nature, a mild submissive temper, and a
+disposition to oblige, that forgot nothing save herself. Her habits had
+taught her resources and ways which their isolated existence had denied
+them, and she made herself useful by various arts, which, simple as they
+were, seemed marvellous to the apprehension of her hosts; and thus, day
+by day, gaining on their love and esteem, they came at length to regard
+her with an affection mingled with a sort of homage.
+
+Poor Joan Landy--for we have not to explain that it was she--was
+happy,--happier than ever she had been before. The one great sorrow of
+her life was, it is true, treasured in her heart; her lost home,
+her blighted hope, her severed affection--for she actually loved
+Magennis--were griefs over which she wept many an hour in secret;
+but there was a sense of duty, a conscious feeling of rectitude,
+that supported her in her sacrifice, and as she thought of her old
+grandfather's death-bed, she could say to her heart, "I have been true
+to my word with him."
+
+The unbroken quiet, the unchanging character of the life she led,--its
+very duties following a routine that nothing ever disturbed,--gave her
+ample time for thought; and thought, though tinged with melancholy, has
+its own store of consolation; and if poor Joan sorrowed, she sorrowed
+like one who rather deplored the past than desired to re-live it! As
+time wore on, a dreamy indistinctness seemed to spread itself over the
+memory of her former life: it appeared little other than a mind-drawn
+picture. Nothing actual or tangible remained to convince her of its
+reality. It was only at rare intervals, and in the very clearest
+weather, the outline of the mountains of the mainland could be seen; and
+when she did behold them, they brought only some vague recollection to
+her; and so, too, the memories of her once home came through the haze of
+distance, dim and indistinct.
+
+It was at the close of a day in June that the Joyces sat in front of
+the little cabin, repairing their nets, and getting their tackle in
+readiness for the sea. For some time previous the weather had been
+broken and unfavorable. Strong west winds and heavy seas--far from
+infrequent in these regions, even in midsummer--had rendered fishing
+impracticable; but now the aspect of a new moon, rising full an hour
+before sunset, gave promise of better, and old Joyce had got the launch
+drawn up on shore to refit, and sails were spread out upon the rocks to
+dry, and coils of rope, and anchors, and loose spars littered the little
+space before the door. The scene was a busy and not an unpicturesque
+one. There was every age, from the oldest to very infancy, all active,
+all employed. Some were calking the seams of the boat, others overhauled
+sails and cordage; some were preparing the nets, attaching cork floats
+or sinkers; and two chubby urchins, mere infants, laughing, fed the
+fire that blazed beneath a large pitch-pot, the light blue smoke rising
+calmly into the air, and telling those far away that the lone rock
+was not without inhabitants. To all seeming, these signs of life and
+habitation bad attracted notice; for a small boat which had quitted
+Innishmore for the mainland some time before, now altered her course,
+and was seen slowly bearing up towards the Brannocks. Though the sea was
+calm and waveless, the wind was only sufficient to waft her along at the
+slowest rate; a twinkling flash of the sea at intervals showed, however,
+that her crew were rowing, and at length the measured beat of the oars
+could be distinctly heard.
+
+Many were the speculations of those who watched her course. They knew
+she was not a fishing-craft; her light spars and white sails were
+sufficient to refute that opinion. Neither was she one of the
+revenue-boats. What could she be, then, since no large ship was in sight
+to which she could have belonged? It is only to those who have at some
+one period or other of life sojourned in some lone spot of earth, away
+from human intercourse, that the anxiety of these poor people could be
+intelligible. If, good reader,--for to you we now appeal,--it has not
+been your lot to have once on a time lived remote from the world and
+its ways, you cannot imagine how intensely interesting can become the
+commonest of those incidents which mark ordinary existence. They assume,
+indeed, very different proportions from the real, and come charged with
+innumerable imaginings about that wondrous life, far, far away, where
+there are thoughts and passions and deeds and events which never enter
+into the dreamland of exile! It was a little after sunset that the boat
+glided into the small creek which formed the only harbor of the island;
+and the moment after, a young girl sprang on the shore, and hastened
+towards them.
+
+[Illustration: 334]
+
+Before the Joyces had recovered from their first surprise, they saw Joan
+burst from the spot, and, rushing down the slope, throw herself at the
+stranger's feet.
+
+"And have I found you at last, dear Joan?" cried a soft, low voice,
+while the speaker raised her tenderly from the ground, and took her hand
+kindly within both her own.
+
+"Oh, Miss Mary, to think you 'd come after me this far! over the say!"
+burst out Joan, sobbing through her joy; for joy it was that now lit
+up her features, and made her eyes sparkle even through the fresh tears
+that filled them.
+
+"They told me you had sailed from Galway," resumed Mary, "and I wrote
+to the ship-agent and found it was correct: your name was in the list of
+passengers, and the date of the day you sailed; but, I know not how it
+was, Joan, I still clung to the notion that you had contrived this plan
+to escape being discovered, and that you were concealed somewhere along
+the coast or in the islands. I believe I used to dream of this at first,
+but at last I thought of it all day long."
+
+"Thought of _me_ all day long?" broke in Joan, sobbing.
+
+"And why not, poor child? Was I not the cause of your leaving your
+home? Was it not my persuasion that induced you to leave the roof that
+sheltered you? I have often wondered whether I had right and reason on
+my side. I know at the time I believed I had such. At all events, but
+for me you had never quitted that home; but see, Joan, how what we are
+led to do with an honest purpose, if it fail to effect what we had in
+view, often leads to better and happier ends than we ever dreamed of.
+I only thought of conveying to you the last message of your poor
+grandfather. I little imagined how so simple an act could influence
+all your future fortune in life; and such it has done. Mr. Magennis,
+suspecting or discovering what share I had in your flight, has begun a
+law proceeding against me, and to give him a rightful claim for redress,
+has declared you to be--all that you wish, dear Joan--his lawful, wedded
+wife."
+
+It was some time before the poor girl could stifle the sobbing which
+burst from her very heart. She kissed Mary's hands over and over with
+rapture, and cried out at length, in broken, faltering accents, "Did
+n't they say well that called you a saint from heaven? Didn't they tell
+truth that said, God gave you as a blessing to us?"
+
+"My poor Joan, you are grateful to me for what I have no share in. I am
+nothing but the bearer of good tidings. But tell me, how have you fared
+since we parted? Let me hear all that has happened to you."
+
+Joan told her simple story in a few words, never deviating from the
+narrative, save to speak her heartfelt gratitude to the poor people who
+had sheltered and befriended her.
+
+"There they are!" cried she, pointing to the group, who, with a delicacy
+of sentiment that might have graced the most refined class, sat
+apart, never venturing by a look to obtrude upon the confidence of the
+others,--"there they are; and if the world was like them, life would n't
+have many crosses!"
+
+Mary rose, and drew nigh the old man, who stood up respectfully to
+receive her.
+
+"He does n't know much English, Miss Mary," whispered Joan in her ear.
+
+"Nor am I well skilled in Irish," said Mary, smiling; "but I 'll do my
+best to thank him."
+
+However imperfectly she spoke the native tongue, the words seemed to
+act like a charm on those who heard them; and as, young and old, they
+gathered around her, their eager looks and delighted faces beamed with a
+triumphant joy. They had learned from the boatmen that it was the young
+princess--as in the language of the people she was called--was before
+them, and their pride and happiness knew no bounds.
+
+Oh, if courtiers could feel one tithe of the personal devotion to the
+sovereign that did these poor peasants to her they regarded as their
+chief, what an atmosphere of chivalry would breathe within the palace
+of royalty! There was nothing they would not have done or dared at her
+bidding; and as she crossed their threshold, and sat down beside their
+hearth, the tears of joy that rose to every eye showed that this was an
+event to be treasured till memory could retain no more!
+
+If Mary did not speak the native dialect fluently, there was a grace and
+a charm about the turn of the expressions she used that never failed to
+delight those who heard her. That imaginative thread that runs through
+the woof of Irish nature in every rank and condition of life--more
+conspicuous, probably, in the very humblest--imparted an intense
+pleasure to hearing and listening to her; and she, on her side, roused
+and stimulated by the adventurous character of the incident, the strange
+wild spot, the simple people, their isolation and their innocence, spoke
+with a warmth and an enthusiasm that were perfectly captivating.
+
+She had seen much of the peasantry,--known them in the most unfrequented
+tracts, remote from all their fellow-men,--in far-away glens, by dreary
+mountains, where no footpaths led; but anything so purely simple and
+unsophisticated as these poor people she had never met with. The sons
+had been--and that rarely, too--on the mainland, but the children and
+their mothers had never left the Brannocks; they had never beheld a
+tree, nor even a flower, save the wild crocus on their native rock. With
+what eager delight, then, did they hear Mary describe the gardens of the
+castle,--pictures that glowed with all the gorgeous colors of a fairy
+tale. "You shall all come and see me, some of these days. I'll send you
+a messenger, to say the time," said Mary; "and I'll promise that what
+you 'll witness will be far above my description of it!"
+
+It was a sad moment when Mary arose to say good-bye. Joan, too, was to
+accompany her, and the grief at parting with her was extreme. Again and
+again the children clung round her, entreating her not to leave them;
+and she herself half faltered in her resolution. That lonely rock, that
+rude cabin, had been her refuge in the darkest hour of her life, and she
+felt the superstitious terror of her class at now deserting them.
+
+"Come, come, dear Joan, remember that you have a home now that you
+can rightfully return to," whispered Mary. "It is not in shame, but in
+honor, that you go back to it."
+
+It was already dark ere they left the Brannocks: a long, heavy swell,
+too, the signs of a storm, coming from the westward, made the boatmen
+eager to hasten their departure. As yet, however, the air was calm and
+still, but it was with that oppressive stillness that forebodes change.
+They hoisted their sail, but soon saw that they must, for a while at
+least, trust to their oars. The unbroken stillness, save by the measured
+stroke of the rowers, the dense dark atmosphere, and the reaction, after
+a day of toil and an event of a most moving kind, so overcame Mary that,
+leaning on Joan's shoulder, she fell off fast asleep. For a while Joan,
+proud of the burden she supported, devoted all her care to watch
+and protect her from the night air; but at last weariness stole over
+herself, and she dropped off to slumber.
+
+Meanwhile the sea was rising; heavy waves struck the boat, and washed
+over her in sheets of spray, although no wind was stirring.
+
+"We 'll have rain, or a gale of wind before long," said one of the men.
+
+"There 's some heavy drops falling now," muttered another.
+
+"Throw that sail over Miss Mary, for it will soon come down heavily."
+
+A loud clap of thunder burst forth, and as suddenly, like a torrent, the
+rain poured down, hissing over the dark sea, and filling the air with a
+dull, discordant noise. Still they slept on, nor heard nor felt aught of
+that gathering storm.
+
+"There now, sure enough, it 's coming," cried a boatman, as the sail
+shook tremulously; and two great waves, in quick succession, broke over
+the bow.
+
+"We'll have to run for Innishmore," said another, "and lucky if we get
+there before it comes on worse."
+
+"You ought to wake her up, Loony, and ask her what we are to do."
+
+"I 'll make straight for the harbor of Kilkieran," replied the helmsman.
+"The wind is with us, and she's a good sea-boat. Take in the jib,
+Maurice, and we'll shorten all sail on her, and--"
+
+The rest of his speech was drowned in the uproar of a tremendous sea,
+which struck the boat on her quarter and nearly overset her. Not another
+word was now uttered, as, with the instinct of their calling, they
+set about to prepare for the coming conflict. The mainsail was quickly
+lowered and reefed, the oars and loose spars secured, and then, seating
+themselves in the bottom of the boat, they waited in silence. By this
+time the rain had passed over, and a strong wind swept over the sea.
+
+"She's going fast through the water, anyway!" said one of the men. But
+though the speech was meant to cheer, none felt or acknowledged the
+encouragement.
+
+"I 'd rather than own Cro' Martin Castle Miss Mary was safe at home!"
+said Loony, as he drew the rough sleeve of his coat across his eyes,
+"for it's thicker it's getting over yonder!"
+
+"It would be a black day that anything happened her!" muttered another.
+
+"Musha! we've wives and childer," said a third, "but she's worth a
+thousand of us!"
+
+And thus, in broken whispers, they spoke; not a thought save of her, not
+a care save for her safety. They prayed, too, fervently, and her name
+was in all their supplications.
+
+"She's singing to herself in her sleep," whispered Loony. And the rough
+sailors hushed to hear her.
+
+Louder and louder, however, grew the storm, sheets of spray and drift
+falling over the boat in showers, and all her timbers quivering as she
+labored in the stormy sea. A sailor whispered something in Loony's ear,
+and he grumbled out in reply,--"Why would I wake her up?"
+
+"But I _am_ awake, Loony," said Mary, in a low, calm voice, "and I see
+all our danger; but I see, too, that you are meeting it like brave men,
+and, better still, like good ones."
+
+"The men was thinking we ought to bear up for Innish-more, Miss Mary,"
+said Loony, as though ashamed of offering on his own part such counsel.
+
+"You'll do what you think best and safest for us all, Loony."
+
+"But you were always the captain, miss, when you were aboord!" replied
+he, with an effort to smile.
+
+"And so I should be now, Loony, but that my heart is too full to be as
+calm and resolute as I ought to be. This poor thing had not been here
+now, but for _me_." And she wrapped her shawl around Joan as she spoke.
+"Maybe it's anxiety, perhaps fatigue, but I have not my old courage
+to-night!"
+
+"Faix! it will never be fear that will distress you!" said he.
+
+"If you mean for myself and my own safety, Loony, you are right. It is
+not for me to repine at the hour that calls me away, but I cannot
+bear to think how you and others, with so many dear to you, should be
+perilled just to serve _me!_ And poor Joan, too, at the moment when life
+was about to brighten for her!" She held down her head for a minute or
+two, and then suddenly, as it were, rallying, she cried out, "The boat
+is laboring too much for'ard, Loony; set the jib on her!"
+
+"To be sure, if you ordher it, Miss Mary; but she has more sail now than
+she can carry."
+
+"Set the jib, Loony. I know the craft well; she 'll ride the waves all
+the lighter for it. If it were but daylight, I almost think I 'd enjoy
+this. We 've been out in as bad before."
+
+Loony shook his head as he went forward to bend the additional sail.
+
+"You see she won't bear it, miss," cried he, as the boat plunged
+fearfully into the trough of the sea.
+
+"Let us try," said she, calmly. "Stand by, ready to slack off, if I
+give the word." And so saying, she took the tiller from the sailor, and
+seated herself on the weather-gunwale. "There, see how she does it now!
+Ah, Loony, confess, I am the true pilot. I knew my nerve would come back
+when I took my old post here. I was always a coward in a carriage, if I
+was n't on the box and the reins in my hands; and the same at sea.
+Sit up to windward, men, and don't move; never mind baling, only keep
+quiet."
+
+"Miss Mary was right," muttered one of the men; "the head-sail is
+drawing her high out of the water!"
+
+"Is that dark mass before us cloud, or the land?" cried she.
+
+"It's the mountains, miss. There to the left, where you see the dip in
+the ridge, that's Kilkieran. I think I see the lights on shore now."
+
+"I see them now myself," cried Mary. "Oh, how the sight of land gives
+love of life! They called earth truly who named her mother!" said she to
+herself. "What was that which swept past us, Loony?"
+
+"A boat, miss; and they're hailing us now," cried he, peeping over the
+gunwale. "They've put her about, and are following our course. They came
+out after us."
+
+"It was gallantly done, on such a night as this! I was just thinking to
+myself that poor old Mat Landy would have been out, were he living. You
+must take the tiller now, Loony, for I don't understand the lights on
+shore."
+
+"Because they're shifting every minute, miss. It's torches they have,
+and they 're moving from place to place; but we 'll soon be safe now."
+
+"Let us not forget this night, men," said Mary, in a fervent voice. And
+then, burying her face within her hands, she spoke no more.
+
+It was already daybreak when they gained the little harbor, well-nigh
+exhausted, and worn out with fatigue and anxiety. As for Mary, wet
+through and cold, she could not rise from her seat without assistance,
+and almost fainted as she put her foot on shore. She turned one glance
+seaward to where the other boat was seen following them, and then,
+holding Joan's hand, she slowly toiled up the rocky ascent to the
+village. To the crowd of every age that surrounded her she could only
+give a faint, sickly smile of recognition, and they, in deep reverence,
+stood without speaking, gazing on her wan features and the dripping
+garments which clung to her.
+
+"No, not to the inn, Loony," said she, to a question from him. "The
+first cabin we meet will shelter us, and then--home!" There was
+something of intense sorrow in the thought that passed then through her
+mind, for her eyes suddenly filled up, and heavy tears rolled along her
+cheeks. "Have they got in yet?" said she, looking towards the sea.
+
+"Yes, miss; they're close alongside now. It's the revenue boat that went
+after us."
+
+"Wirra, wirra! but that's bad news for her now," muttered a boatman, in
+conversation with an old woman at his side.
+
+"What's the bad news, Patsey?" said Mary, overhearing him.
+
+But the man did not dare to answer; and though he looked around on every
+side, none would speak for him.
+
+"You used to be more frank with me," said Mary, calmly. "Tell me what
+has happened."
+
+Still not a word was uttered, a mournful silence brooded over the crowd,
+and each seemed to shun the task of breaking it.
+
+"You will make me fear worse than the reality, perhaps," said she,
+tremulously. "Is the calamity near home? No. Is it then my uncle?" A
+low faint cry burst from her, and she dropped down on her knees; but
+scarcely had she joined her hands to pray, than she fell back, fainting,
+to the ground.
+
+They carried her, still insensible as she was, into a fisherman's cabin,
+till they went in search of a conveyance to take her to the cottage.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXII. LETTER FROM MASSINGBRED.
+
+"Martin Arms, Oughterard.
+
+"In spite of all your reasonings, all your cautions, and all your
+warnings, here I am once more, Harry, denizen of the little dreary
+parlor whence I first looked out at Dan Nelligan's shop something
+more than a year since. What changes of fortune has that brief space
+accomplished I what changes has it effected even in my own nature! I
+feel this in nothing more than in my altered relations with others. If
+the first evidence of amendment in a man be shame and sorrow for the
+past, I may probably be on the right road now, since I heartily grieve
+over the worthless, purposeless life I have led hitherto.
+
+"I am well aware that you would not accept the reason I gave you for
+coming here. You said that, as to taking leave of my constituents, a
+letter was the ordinary and the sufficient course. You also hinted that
+our intercourse had not been of that close and friendly nature which
+requires a personal farewell, and then you suggested that other and less
+defensible motives had probably their share in this step. Well, you
+are right, perfectly right; I wanted to see the spot which has so far
+exerted an immense influence over me; I wanted--if you will have the
+confession--to see _her_ too,--to see her in the humble station she
+belongs to, in the lowly garb of the steward's daughter. I was curious
+to ascertain what change her bearing would undergo in the change of
+position; would she conform to the lowlier condition at once and
+without struggle, or would her haughty nature chafe and fret against the
+obstacles of a small and mean existence? If you were right in guessing
+this, you are equally wrong in the motive you ascribe to me. Not,
+indeed, that you palpably express, but only hint at it; still I cannot
+endure even the shadow of such a surmise without a flat and full denial.
+Perhaps, after all, I have mistaken your meaning,--would it were so! I
+do indeed wish that you should not ascribe to me motives so unworthy
+and so mean. A revenge for her refusal of me! a reprisal for the proud
+rejection of my hand and fortune! No, my dear Harry, I feel, as I write
+the words, that they never were yours. You say, however, that I am
+curious to know if I should think her as lovable and attractive in the
+humble dress and humble station that pertain to her, as when I saw her
+moving more than equal amongst the proudest and haughtiest of Europe.
+To have any doubt on this score would be to distrust her sincerity of
+character. She must be what I have ever seen her, or she is an actress.
+Difference of condition, different associates, different duties will
+exact different discipline, but she herself must be the same, or she is
+a falsehood,--a deception.
+
+"And then you add, it is perhaps as well that I should 'submit to the
+rude test of a disenchantment.' Well, I accept the challenge, and I am
+here.
+
+"These thoughts of self would obtrude in the very beginning of a letter
+I had destined for other objects. You ask me for a narrative of my
+journey and its accidents, and you shall have it. On my way over here
+in the packet, I made acquaintance with an elderly man, who seemed
+thoroughly acquainted with all the circumstances of the Martins and
+their misfortunes. From him I ascertained that all Scanlan had told me
+was perfectly correct. The reversion of the estate has been sold for a
+sum incredibly small in proportion to its value, and in great part
+the proceeds of gambling transactions. Martin is, therefore, utterly,
+irretrievably ruined. Merl has taken every step with all the security
+of the best advice, and in a few months, weeks perhaps, will be declared
+owner of Cro' Martin. Even in the 'fast times' we live in, such rapid
+ruin as this stands alone! You tell me that of your own college and mess
+associates not more than one in five or six have survived the wreck
+of fortune the first few years of extravagance accomplish, and
+that Manheim, Brussels, and Munich can show the white-seamed,
+mock-smartened-up gentilities which once were the glories of Bond
+Street and the Park; but for poor Martin, I suspect, even these last
+sanctuaries do not remain,--as I hear it, he is totally gone.
+
+"From the very inn where I am staying Merls agents are issuing notices
+of all kinds to the tenants and 'others' to desist and refrain from
+cutting timber, quarrying marbles, and what not, on certain unspeakable
+localities, with threats in case of non-compliance. Great placards cover
+the walls of the town, headed 'Caution to all Tenants on the Estate
+of Cro' Martin.' The excitement in the neighborhood is intense,
+overwhelming. Whatever differences of political opinion existed between
+the Martins and the people of the borough, whatever jealousies grew out
+of disparity of station, seemed suddenly merged in sympathy for this
+great misfortune. They are, of course, ignorant of the cause of this
+sudden calamity, and ask each other how, when, and where such a fortune
+because engulfed.
+
+"But to proceed regularly. On my reaching Dublin, after a hurried visit
+to my father, I drove off to Mr. Repton's house. You may remember his
+name as that of the old lawyer, some of whose bar stories amused you
+so highly. I found him in a spacious mansion of an old neglected
+street,--Henrietta Street,--once the great aristocratic quarter of
+Ancient Dublin, and even to this day showing traces of real splendor.
+The old man received me in a room of immense proportions, furnished as
+it was when Flood was the proprietor. He was at luncheon when I entered;
+and for company had the very same stranger with whom I made acquaintance
+in the packet.
+
+"Repton started as we recognized each other, but at a sign or a word,
+I'm not certain which, from the other, merely said, 'My friend was just
+speaking of his having met you, Mr. Massingbred.' This somewhat informal
+presentation over, I joined them, and we fell a chatting over the story
+of Cro' Martin.
+
+"They were both eager to hear something about Merl, his character,
+pursuits, and position; and you would have been amazed to see how
+surprised they were at my account of a man whose type we are all so
+familiar with.
+
+"You would scarcely credit the unfeigned astonishment manifested by
+these two shrewd and crafty men at the sketch I gave them of our Hebrew
+friend. One thing is quite clear,--it was not the habit, some forty or
+fifty years ago, to admit the Merls of the world to terms of intimacy,
+far less of friendship.
+
+"'As I said, Repton,' broke in the stranger, sternly, 'it all comes of
+that degenerate tone which has crept in of late, making society like a
+tavern, where he who can pay his bill cannot be denied entrance. Such
+fellows as this Merl had no footing in our day. The man who associated
+with such would have forfeited his own place in the world.'
+
+"'Very true,' said Repton, 'though we borrowed their money we never
+bowed to them.'
+
+"'And we did wisely, sir,' retorted the other. 'The corruption of their
+manners was fifty times worse than all their usury! The gallant Hussar
+Captain, as we see here, never scrupled about admitting to his closest
+intimacy a fellow not fit company for his valet. Can't you perceive that
+when a man will descend to such baseness to obtain money, there is no
+measuring the depth he will go to when pressed to pay it?'
+
+"'I am intimate with Martin,' said I, interrupting, 'and I can honestly
+assure you that it was rather to an easy, careless, uncalculating
+disposition he owes his misfortunes, than to anything like a spendthrift
+habit.'
+
+"'Mere hair-splitting this, sir,' replied he, almost rudely. 'He who
+spends what is not his own, I have but one name for. It matters little
+in my estimation whether he extorts the supply by a bill or a bullet.'
+
+"I own to you, Harry, I burned to retort to a speech the tone and manner
+of which were both more offensive than the words; but the stranger's
+age, his venerable appearance, and something like deep and recent sorrow
+about him, restrained me, and I caught, by a look from Repton, that he
+was grateful for my forbearance.
+
+"'Come, sir,' said he, addressing me, 'you say you know Captain Martin;
+now let me ask you one question: Is there any one trait or feature of
+his character to which, if his present misfortunes were to pass
+away, you could attach a hope of amendment? Has not this life of
+bill-renewing, these eternal straits for cash--with all the humiliations
+that accompany them,--made him a mere creature of schemes and plots,--a
+usurer in spirit, though a pauper in fact?'
+
+"'When I say, sir, that you are addressing this demand to one whom
+Captain Martin deems his friend, you will see the impropriety you have
+fallen into.'
+
+"'My young friend is right,' broke in Repton. 'The Court rules against
+the question; nor would it be evidence even if answered.'
+
+"I was angry at this interference of Repton's. I wanted to reply to this
+man myself; but still, as I looked at his sorrow-struck features, and
+saw what I fancied the marks of a proud suffering spirit, I was well
+satisfied at not having given way to temper; still more so did I feel as
+he turned towards me, and, with a manner of ineffable gentleness, said,
+'I entreat you to pardon me, sir, for an outburst of which I am already
+ashamed. A rude life and some bitter experiences have made me hard
+of heart and coarse in speech; still, it is only in moments of
+forgetfulness that I cease to remember what indulgence he owes to others
+who has such need of forgiveness himself.'
+
+"I grasped his hand at once, and felt that his pressed mine like a
+friend's.
+
+"'You spoke of going down to the West,' said he, after a brief pause.
+'I start for that country to-night; you would do me a great favor should
+you accompany me.'
+
+"I acceded at once, and he went on. 'Repton was to have been of the
+party, but business delays him a few days in town.'
+
+"'I 'll join you before the end of the week,' said Repton; 'by that time
+Mr. Massingbred will have expended all his borough blandishments and be
+free to give us his society.'
+
+"Though the old lawyer now tried, and tried cleverly, to lead us away
+to lighter, pleasanter themes, the attempt was a failure; each felt, I
+suspect, some oppressive weight on his spirits that indisposed him to
+less serious talk; and again we came back to the Martins, the stranger
+evidently seeking to learn all he could of the disposition and temper of
+the young man.
+
+"'It is as I thought,' said he, at last. 'It is the weak, sickly tone
+of the day has brought all this corruption upon us! Once upon a time
+the vices and follies of young men took their rise in their several
+natures,--this one gambled, the other drank, and so on,--the mass,
+however, was wonderfully sound and healthy; the present school, however,
+is to ape a uniformity, so that each may show himself in the livery of
+his fellows, thus imbibing wickedness he has no taste for, and none be
+less depraved and heartless than those around him. Let the women but
+follow the fashion, and there 's an end of us, as the great people we
+boasted to be!'
+
+"I give you, so well as I can trust my memory, his words, Harry, but I
+cannot give you a certain sardonic bitterness,--a tone of mingled scorn
+and sorrow, such as I never before witnessed. He gave me the impression
+of being one who, originally frank, generous, and trustful, had, by
+intercourse with the world and commerce with mankind, grown to suspect
+every one and disbelieve in honesty, and yet could not bring his heart
+to acknowledge what his head had determined. In this wise, at least, I
+read his character from the opportunities I had of conversing with him
+on our journey. It was easy to see that he was a gentleman,--taking the
+word in the widest of its acceptations,--but from things that dropped
+from him, I could gather that his life had been that of an adventurer.
+He had been in the sea and land services of many of those new states
+of Southern America, had even risen to political importance in some of
+them; had possessed mines and vast tracts of territory one day, and
+the next saw himself 'without a piastre.' He had conducted operations
+against the Indians, and made treaties with them, and latterly had lived
+as the elected chief of a tribe in the west of the Rocky Mountains. But
+he knew civilized as well as savage life, had visited Spain in the rank
+of an envoy, and was familiar with all the great society of Rome, and
+the intrigues of its prince-bishops. The only theme, however, on which
+he really warmed was sport. The prairies brought out all his enthusiasm,
+and then he spoke like one carried away by glorious recollections of
+a time when, as he said himself, 'heart and hand and eye never failed
+him.'
+
+"When he spoke of family ties or home affections, it was in a spirit of
+almost mockery, which puzzled me. His reasoning was that the attachments
+we form are only emanations of our own selfishness. We love, simply to
+be loved again. Whereas, were we single-hearted, we should be satisfied
+to know that those dear to us were well and happy, and only seek to
+serve them without demonstration or display.
+
+"Am I wearying you, Harry, by dwelling on the traits of a man who, for
+the brief space I have known him, has made the most profound impression
+upon me? Even where I dissent--as is often the case--from his views,
+I have to own to myself that were I _he_, I should think and reason
+precisely as he does. I fancied at first that, like many men who had
+quitted civilized life for the rude ways of the 'bush,' he would have
+contrasted the man of refinement unfavorably with the savage, but he was
+too keen and acute for such a sweeping fallacy; he saw the good and evil
+in both, and sensibly remarked how independent of all education were
+the really strong characteristics of human nature. 'There is not a great
+quality of our first men,' said he, 'that I have not found to exist
+among the wild tribes of the Far West, nor is there an excellence
+of savage nature I have not witnessed amidst the polished and the
+pampered.'
+
+"From what I can collect, he is only here passingly; some family matter
+has brought him over to this country; but he is already impatient to be
+back to his old haunts and associates, and his home beside the Orinoco.
+He has even asked me to come and visit him there; and from all I can see
+I should be as likely to attain distinction among the Chaymas as in
+the House of Commons, and should find the soft turf of the Savannahs as
+pleasant as the Opposition benches. In fact, Harry, I have half
+promised to accept his invitation; and if he renew it with anything like
+earnestness, I am resolved to go.
+
+"I am just setting out for the Hendersons', and while the horses are
+being harnessed I have re-read your letter. Of course I have 'counted
+the cost,'--I have weighed the question to a pennyweight! I could
+already write down the list of those who will not know me at all, those
+who will know me a little, and the still fewer who will know my wife!
+Can you not see, my dear friend, that where one drags the anchor so
+easily, the mooring-ground was never good? The society to which you
+belong by such slender attachments gives no wound by separation from it.
+
+"My anxiety now is on a very different score: it is that she will still
+refuse me. The hope I cling to is that she will see in my persistence a
+proof of sincerity. I would not, if I could, bring any family influence
+to my aid, and yet, short of this, there is nothing I would not do to
+insure success.
+
+"I wish I had never re-opened your letter; that vein of sarcastic
+coolness which runs through it will never turn me from my purpose. You
+seem to forget, besides, that you are talking to a man of the world,
+just as hackneyed, just as 'used up' as yourself. I should like to see
+you assume this indolent dalliance before La Henderson! Take my word for
+it, Harry, you 'd be safer with the impertinence amongst some of your
+duchesses in Pall Mall. You say that great beauty in a woman, like
+genius in a man, is a kind of brevet nobility, and yet you add that
+the envy of the world will never weary of putting the possessor 'on his
+title.' How gladly would I accept this challenge! Ay, Harry, I tell you,
+in all defiance, that your proudest could not vie with her!
+
+"If I wanted a proof of the vassalage of the social state we live in, I
+have it before me in the fact that a man like yourself, wellborn, young,
+rich, and high-hearted, should place the judgments and prejudices of
+half a dozen old tabbies of either sex above all the promptings of a
+noble ambition--all the sentiments of a generous devotion. Your
+starling cry of 'the Steward's daughter,' then, does not deter, it only
+determines the purpose
+
+"Of yours faithfully,
+
+"Jack Massingbred."
+
+
+"You 'll see by the papers that I have accepted the Chiltern Hundreds.
+This is the first step.--now for the second!"
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXIII. A DINNER AT "THE LODGE"
+
+While the "Morning Post" of a certain day, some twenty years ago,
+was chronicling the illustrious guests who partook of his Majesty's
+hospitalities at Windsor, the "Dublin Evening Mail," under the less
+pretentious heading of "Viceregal Court," gave a list of those who had
+dined with his Excellency at the Lodge.
+
+There was not anything very striking or very new in the announcement.
+Our _dramatis personae,_ in this wise, are limited; and after the
+accustomed names of the Lord Chancellor and Mrs. Dobbs, the Master of
+the Rolls and Mrs. Wiggins, Colonel Somebody of the 105th, Sir Felix
+and Miss Slasher, you invariably find the catalogue close with an
+un-der-secretary, a king-at-arms, and the inevitable Captain Lawrence
+Belcour, the aide-de-camp in waiting!--these latter recorded somewhat in
+the same spirit that the manager of a provincial theatre swells the roll
+of his company, by the names of the machinist, the scene-painter, and
+the leader of the band! We have no peculiar concern, however, with this
+fact, save that on the day in question our old friend Joseph Nelligan
+figured as a vice-regal guest. It was the first time he had been so
+honored, and, although not of a stamp to attach any great prize to the
+distinction, he was well aware that the recognition was intended as an
+honor; the more, when an aide-de-camp signified to him that his place at
+table was on one side of his Excellency.
+
+When this veracious history first displayed young Nelligan at a
+dinner-party, his manner was shy and constrained; his secluded,
+student-like habits had given him none of that hardihood so essential in
+society. If he knew little of passing topics, he knew less of the tone
+men used in discussing them; and now, although more conversant with
+the world and its ways, daily brought into contact with the business of
+life, his social manner remained pretty nearly the same cold, awkward,
+and diffident thing it had been at first. Enlist him in a great subject,
+or call upon him on a great occasion, and he could rise above it; place
+him in a position to escape notice, and you never heard more of him.
+
+The dinner company on this day contained nothing very formidable, either
+on the score of station or ability,--a few bar celebrities with their
+wives, an eccentric dean with a daughter, a garrison colonel or two,
+three country squires, and a doctor from Merrion Square. It was that
+interregnal period between the time when the castle parties included
+the first gentry of the land, and that later era when the priest and
+the agitator became the favored guests of vice-royalty. It is scarce
+necessary to say it was, as regards agreeability, inferior to either.
+There was not the courtly urbanity and polished pleasantry of a very
+accomplished class; nor was there the shrewd and coarse but racy
+intelligence of Mr. O'Connell's followers.
+
+The Marquis of Reckington had come over to Ireland to "inaugurate," as
+the newspapers called it, a new policy; that is, he was to give to the
+working of the relief bill an extension and a significance which few
+either of its supporters or opposers in Parliament ever contemplated.
+The inequality of the Romanist before the law he might have borne;
+social depreciation was a heavier evil, and one quite intolerable. Now,
+as the change to the new system required considerable tact and address,
+they intrusted the task to a most accomplished and well-bred gentleman;
+and were Ireland only to be won by dinner-parties, Lord Reckington must
+have been its victor.
+
+To very high rank and great personal advantages he united a manner of
+the most perfect kind. Dignified enough always to mark his station and
+his own consciousness of it, it was cordial without effort, frank
+and easy without display. If he could speak with all the weight of
+authority, he knew how to listen with actual deference; and there
+was that amount of change and "play" in his demeanor that made his
+companion, whoever for the moment he might be, believe that his views
+and arguments had made a deep impression on the Viceroy. To those
+unacquainted with such men, and the school to which they belong, there
+might have appeared something unreal, almost dramatic, in the elegant
+gracefulness of his bow, the gentle affability of his smile, the
+undeviating courtesy which he bestowed on all around him; but they were
+all of the man himself,--his very instincts,--his nature.
+
+It had apparently been amongst his Excellency's instructions from his
+government to seek out such rising men of the Roman Catholic party as
+might be elevated and promoted on the just claims of their individual
+merits,--men, in fact, whose conduct and bearing would be certain to
+justify their selection for high office. It could not be supposed that
+a party long proscribed, long estranged from all participation in power,
+could be rich in such qualifications. At the bar, the ablest men usually
+threw themselves into the career of politics, and of course by strong
+partisanship more or less prejudiced their claims to office. It was
+rare indeed to find one who, with the highest order of abilities, was
+satisfied to follow a profession whose best rewards were denied him.
+Such was Joseph Nelligan when he was first "called," and such he
+continued to the very hour we now see him. Great as had been his
+college successes, his triumphs at the bar overtopped them all. They who
+remembered his shy and reserved manner wondered whence he came by his
+dignity; they who knew his youth could not imagine how he came by his
+"law."
+
+Mr. M'Casky, the castle law-adviser, an old recruiting-serjeant of
+capacities, who had "tipped the shilling" to men of every party, had
+whispered his name to the Under-Secretary, who had again repeated it to
+the Viceroy. He was, as M'Casky said, "the man they wanted, with talent
+enough to confront the best of the opposite party, and wealthy enough to
+want nothing that can figure in a budget." Hence was he, then, there a
+favored guest, and seated on his Excellency's left hand.
+
+For the magic influence of that manner which we have mentioned as
+pertaining to the Viceroy, we ask for no better evidence than the sense
+of perfect ease which Joe Nelligan now enjoyed. The _suave_ dignity
+of the Marquis was blended with a something like personal regard, a
+mysterious intimation that seemed to say, "This is the sort of man I
+have long been looking for; how gratifying that I should have found him
+at last!" They concurred in so many points, too, not merely in opinions,
+but actually in the very expressions by which they characterized them;
+and when at last his Excellency, having occasion to quote something he
+had said, called him "Nelligan," the spell was complete.
+
+Oh dear! when we torture our brains to legislate for apothecaries,
+endeavoring in some way or other to restrict the sale of those subtle
+ingredients on every grain or drop of which a human life may hang,
+why do we never think of those far more subtle elements of which great
+people are the dispensers,--flatteries more soothing than chloroform,
+smiles more lulling than poppy-juice! Imagine poor Nelligan under a
+course of this treatment, dear reader; fancy the delicious poison as
+it insinuates itself through his veins, and if you have ever been so
+drugged yourself, picture to your mind all the enjoyment he experienced.
+
+By one of those adroit turns your social magician is master of, the
+Viceroy had drawn the conversation towards Nelligan's county and his
+native town.
+
+"I was to have paid a visit to poor Martin there," said he, "and I
+certainly should have looked in upon _you_."
+
+Nelligan's cheek was in a flame; pride and shame were both there,
+warring for the mastery.
+
+"Poor fellow!" said his Excellency, who saw the necessity of a
+diversion, "I fear that he has left that immense estate greatly
+embarrassed. Some one mentioned to me, the other day, that the heir will
+not succeed to even a fourth of the old property."
+
+"I have heard even worse, my Lord," said Nelligan. "There is a rumor
+that he is left without a shilling."
+
+"How very shocking! They are connections of my own!" said the Viceroy;
+as though what he said made the misery attain its climax.
+
+"I am aware, my Lord, that Lady Dorothea is related to your Excellency,
+and I am surprised you have not heard the stories I allude to."
+
+"But perhaps I am incorrect," said the Marquis. "It may be that I _have_
+heard them; so many things pass through one's ears every day. But here
+is Colonel Mas-singbred; he 's sure to know it. Massingbred, we want
+some news of the Martins--the Martins of--what is it called?"
+
+"Cro' Martin, my Lord," said Nelligan, reddening.
+
+"I hold the very latest news of that county in my hand, my Lord,"
+replied the Secretary. "It is an express from my son, who writes from
+Oughterard."
+
+Nelligan stood, scarcely breathing, with impatience to hear the tidings.
+
+Colonel Massingbred ran his eyes over the first page of the letter,
+murmuring to himself the words; then turning over, he said: "Yes, here
+it is,--'While I write this, the whole town is in a state of intense
+excitement; the magistrates have sent in for an increased force of
+police, and even soldiery, to repress some very serious disturbances on
+the Martin property. It would appear that Merl--the man who assumes
+to claim the property, as having purchased the reversion from young
+Martin--was set upon by a large mob, and pursued, himself and his
+friends, for several miles across the country. They escaped with their
+lives, but have arrived here in a lamentable plight. There is really no
+understanding these people. It was but the other day, and there was no
+surer road to their favor than to abuse and vilify these same Martins,
+and now they are quite ready to murder any one who aspires to take
+their place. If one was to credit the stories afloat, they have already
+wreaked a fatal vengeance on some fellows employed by Merl to serve
+notices on the tenantry; but I believe that the outrages have really
+gone no further than such maltreatment as Irishmen like to give, and are
+accustomed to take.'"
+
+Here his Excellency laughed heartily, and Joe Nelligan looked grave.
+
+Massingbred read on: "'Without being myself a witness to it, I never
+could have credited the almost feudal attachment of these people to
+an "Old House." The Radical party in the borough are, for the moment,
+proscribed, and dare not show themselves in the streets; and even
+Magennis, who so lately figured as an enemy to the Martins, passed
+through the town this morning with his wife, with a great banner flying
+over his jaunting-car, inscribed "The Martins for Ever!" This burst of
+sentiment on his part, I ought to mention, was owing to a most devoted
+piece of heroism performed by Miss Martin, who sought out the lost one
+and brought her safely back, through a night of such storm and hurricane
+as few ever remember. Such an act, amidst such a people, is sure of its
+reward. The peasantry would, to a man, lay down their lives for her; and
+coming critically, as the incident did, just when a new proprietor
+was about to enforce his claim, you can fancy the added bitterness
+it imparted to their spirit of resistance. I sincerely trust that the
+magistrates will not accede to the demand for an increased force. A
+terrible collision is sure to be the result, and I know enough of
+these people to be aware of what can be done by a little diplomacy,
+particularly when the right negotiator is employed. I mean, therefore,
+to go over and speak to Mr. Nelligan, who is the only man of brains
+amongst the magistrates here.'"
+
+"A relative, I presume," said his Excellency.
+
+"My father, my Lord," replied Joe, blushing.
+
+"Oh! here is the result of his interview," said Massing-bred, turning to
+the foot of the page. "'Nelligan quite agreed in the view I had taken,
+and said the people would assuredly disarm and perhaps destroy any force
+we could send against them. He is greatly puzzled what course to adopt;
+and when I suggested the propriety of invoking Miss Martin's aid, told
+me that this is out of the question, since she is on a sick-bed. While
+we were speaking, a Dublin physician passed through on his way to visit
+her. This really does add to the complication, for she is, perhaps, the
+only one who could exert a great influence over the excited populace. In
+any other country it might read strangely, that it was to a young lady
+men should have recourse in a moment of such peril; but this is like no
+other country, the people like no other people, the young lady herself,
+perhaps, like no other young lady!'"
+
+By a scarcely perceptible movement of his head, and a very slight change
+of voice, Colonel Massingbred intimated to the Viceroy that there was
+something for his private ear, and Lord Reckington stepped back to hear
+it. Nelligan, too deeply occupied in his own thoughts to remark the
+circumstance, stood in the same place, silent and motionless.
+
+"It is to this passage," whispered the Secretary, "I want to direct your
+Excellency's attention: 'All that I see here,' my son writes,--'all that
+I see here is a type of what is going on, at large, over the island. Old
+families uprooted, old ties severed; the people, with no other instinct
+than lawlessness, hesitating which side to take. Their old leaders, only
+bent upon the political, have forgotten the social struggle, and
+thus the masses are left without guidance or direction. It is my firm
+conviction that the Church of Rome will seize the happy moment to usurp
+an authority thus unclaimed, and the priest step in between the landlord
+and the demagogue; and it is equally my belief that you can only retard,
+not prevent, this consummation. If you should be of _my_ opinion, and
+be able to induce his Excellency to think with us, act promptly and
+decisively. Enlist the Roman Catholic laity in your cause before you
+be driven to the harder compact of having to deal with the clergy. And
+first of all, make--for fortunately you have the vacancy,--make young
+Nelligan your solicitor-general.'"
+
+The Viceroy gave a slight start, and smiled. He had not, as yet,
+accustomed his mind to such bold exercise of his patronage. He lived,
+however, to get over this sensation.
+
+"My son," resumed Massingbred, "argues this at some length. If you
+permit, I 'll leave the letter in your Excellency's hands. In fact, I
+read it very hurriedly, and came over here the moment I glanced my eyes
+over this passage."
+
+His Excellency took the letter, and turned to address a word to Joe
+Nelligan, but he had left the spot.
+
+"Belcour," said the Viceroy, "tell Mr. Nelligan I wish to speak to
+him. I shall be in the small drawing-room. I 'll talk with him alone.
+Massingbred, be ready to come when I shall send for you."
+
+The Viceroy sat alone by the fire, pondering over all he had heard.
+There was, indeed, that to ponder over, even in the brief, vague
+description of the writer. "The difficulties of Ireland," as it was the
+fashion of the day to call them, were not such as government commissions
+discover, or blue books describe; they lay deeper than the legislative
+lead-line ever reaches,--many a fathom down below statutes and Acts
+of Parliament. They were in the instincts, the natures, the blood of a
+people who had never acknowledged themselves a conquered nation. Perhaps
+his Excellency lost himself in speculations, mazy and confused enough to
+addle deeper heads. Perhaps he was puzzled to think how he could bring
+the Cabinet to see these things, or the importance that pertained to
+them; who knows? At all events, time glided on, and still he was alone.
+At length the aide-de-camp appeared, and with an air of some confusion,
+said,--"It would appear, my Lord, that Mr. Nelligan has gone away."
+
+"Why, he never said good-night; he did n't take leave of me!" said the
+Viceroy, smiling.
+
+The aide-de-camp slightly elevated his brows, as though to imply his
+sense of what it might not have become him to characterize in words.
+
+"Very strange, indeed!" repeated his Excellency; "is n't it, Belcour?"
+
+"Very strange, indeed, your Excellency," said the other, bowing.
+
+"There could have been no disrespect in it," said his Lordship,
+good-humoredly; "of _that_ I'm quite certain. Send Colonel Massingbred
+here."
+
+"He's gone off, Massingbred," said the Viceroy, as the other appeared.
+
+"So I have just learned, my Lord. I conclude he was not aware--that he
+was unacquainted with--"
+
+"Oh, of course, Massingbred," broke in the Viceroy, laughing, "the fault
+is all with my predecessors in office; they never invited these men
+as they ought to have done. Have you sounded M'Casky as to the
+appointment?"
+
+"Yes, my Lord; he thinks 'we might do worse.'"
+
+"A qualified approval, certainly. Perhaps he meant we might select
+himself!"
+
+"I rather opine, my Lord, that he regards Nelligan's promotion as likely
+to give offence to Mr. O'Connell, unless that he be himself consulted
+upon it."
+
+"Then comes the question, Who is it governs this country, Colonel
+Massingbred?" said the Marquis; and for the first time a flash of
+angry meaning darkened his cheeks. "If I be here,"--he stopped and
+hesitated,--"if you and I be here only to ratify appointments made by
+irresponsible individuals,--if we hold the reins of power only to
+be told where we 're to drive to,--I must own the office is not very
+dignified, nor am I patient enough to think it endurable."
+
+"M'Casky only suggested that it might be advisable to see O'Connell
+on the subject, not, as it were, to pass him over in conferring the
+appointment."
+
+"I cannot at all concur in this view, Massingbred," said the Marquis,
+proudly; "there could be no such humiliation in the world as a patronage
+administered in this wise. Write to Nelligan; write to him to-night. Say
+that his abrupt departure alone prevented my making to him personally
+the offer of the solicitorship; add that you have my directions to place
+the office in his hands, and express a strong wish, on your own part,
+that he may not decline it."
+
+Massingbred bowed in acquiescence, and after a pause his Excellency went
+on:--
+
+"There would be no objection to your adding something to the effect that
+my selection of him was prompted by motives in which party has no share;
+that his acknowledged eminence at the bar,--a character to which even
+political opponents bear honorable testimony,--in fact, Massingbred,"
+added he, impatiently, "if the appointment should come to be questioned
+in the House, let us have it on record that we made it solely on motives
+directed to the public service. You understand me?"
+
+"I think so, my Lord," said Massingbred, and withdrew.
+
+If it were not that other cares and other interests call us away,
+we would gladly linger a little longer to speculate on the Viceroy's
+thoughts as he reseated himself by the fire. His brow was overcast and
+his features clouded. Was it that he felt he had entered the lists, and
+thrown down the glove to a strong and resolute opponent? Had he before
+him a vista of the terrible conflict between expediency and honor that
+was soon to be his fate? Had he his doubts as to the support his own
+Cabinet would afford him? Was his pride the ruling sentiment of the
+moment, or did there enter into his calculations the subtle hope of all
+the eager expectancy this appointment would create, all the disposable
+venality it would lay at his discretion? Who can answer these questions?
+who solve these doubts? Is it not very possible that his mind wandered
+amidst them all? Is it not more than likely that they passed in review
+before him? for when he rejoined his company his manner was more absent,
+his courtesy less easy than usual.
+
+At length Mr. M'Casky came forward to say goodnight.
+
+"Colonel Massingbred has told you of those disturbances in the West, has
+he not?" asked the Viceroy.
+
+"Yes, my Lord," replied the other.
+
+"And what opinion--what advice did you give?"
+
+"To let matters alone, my Lord; to be always a little behind time,
+particularly in sending a force. 'Never despatch the police to quell
+a riot,' said John Toler, 'unless one of the factions be completely
+beaten, otherwise you 'll have them both on your back;' and I assure
+your Excellency, Ireland has been very successfully governed under that
+maxim for years past."
+
+"Thank you, M'Casky; thank you for the advice," said his Excellency,
+laughing, and wished him good-night.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXIV. AN HONORED GUEST
+
+It was a time of unusual stir and bustle at the Martin Arms; the house
+was crammed with company. Messengers--some mounted, others on foot--came
+and went at every moment; horses stood ready saddled and harnessed in
+the stables, in waiting for any emergency; in fact, there was a degree
+of movement and animation only second to that of a contested election.
+In the midst of this confusion a chaise with four smoking posters drew
+up at the door, and a sharp, clear voice called out,--"Morrissy, are my
+rooms ready?"
+
+"No, indeed, Mr. Repton," stammered out the abashed landlord; "the house
+is full; there's not a spot in it to put a child in."
+
+"You got my letter, I suppose?" said Repton, angrily.
+
+"I did, sir, but it was too late; the whole house was engaged by
+Mr. Scanlan, and the same evening the company arrived in two
+coaches-and-four."
+
+"And who is the precious company you speak of?"
+
+"Mr. Merl, sir," said the other, dropping his voice to a whisper, "the
+new owner of Cro' Martin; he's here, with two or three great lawyers and
+one or two of his friends. They came down to serve the notices and give
+warning--"
+
+"Well, what is to be done? where can I be accommodated?" broke in
+Repton, hastily. "Isn't Mr. Massing-bred in the house?"
+
+"No, sir, he had to move out, too; but, sure enough, he left a bit of a
+note for you in the bar." And he hastened off at once to fetch it.
+
+Repton broke open the seal impatiently, and read:--
+
+"My dear Mr. Repton,--I regret that you 'll find the inn full on your
+arrival; they turned me out yesterday to make room for Mr. Merl and his
+followers. Happily, Mr. Nelligan heard of my destitution, and offered me
+a quarter at his house. He also desires me to say that he will deem it
+a very great favor if you will accept the shelter of his roof, and in
+hopeful anticipation of your consenting, he will wait dinner for your
+arrival. From my own knowledge, I can safely assure you that the offer
+is made in a spirit of true hospitality, and I sincerely wish that you
+may accept it.
+
+"Yours very faithfully,
+
+"J. Massingbred."
+
+
+"Where does Mr. Nelligan live?" asked Repton, as he refolded the letter.
+
+"Just across the street, sir. There it is."
+
+"Set me down there, then," said Repton. And the next moment he was at
+Nelligan's door.
+
+"This is a very great honor, sir," said old Dan, as he appeared in a
+suit of decorous black. "It is, indeed, a proud day that gives me the
+pleasure of seeing you here."
+
+"My dear sir, if you had no other distinction than being the father of
+Joseph Nelligan, the honor and the pride lie all in the opposite scale.
+I am sincerely glad to be your guest, and to know you where every true
+Irishman is seen to the greatest advantage,--at the head of his own
+board."
+
+While Nelligan conducted his guest to his room, he mentioned that
+Massingbred had ridden over to Cro' Martin early in the morning, but
+would be certainly back for dinner.
+
+"And what 's the news of Miss Martin? Is she better?"
+
+"They say not, sir. The last accounts are far from favorable."
+
+"Sir Henry Laurie saw her, did n't he?"
+
+"Yes, sir; he passed all Sunday here, and only returned to town
+yesterday. He spoke doubtfully,--I might even say, gloomily. He said,
+however, that we cannot know anything for certain before Friday or,
+perhaps, Saturday."
+
+"It is fever, then?"
+
+"Yes, he told my wife, the worst character of typhus."
+
+"Brought on, as I've been told, by exposure to wet and cold on that
+night at sea. Is n't that the case?"
+
+"I believe so. Mrs. Nelligan went over the next morning to the cottage.
+She had heard of poor Mr. Martin's death, and thought she might be
+of some use to Miss Mary; but when she arrived, it was to find her in
+fever, talking wildly, and insisting that she must be up and away to
+Kyle-a-Noe to look after a poor sick family there."
+
+"Has Mrs. Nelligan seen her since that?"
+
+"She never left her,--never quitted her. She relieves Henderson's
+daughter in watching beside her bed; for the old housekeeper is quite
+too infirm to bear the fatigue."
+
+"What a sad change has come over this little spot, and in so brief
+a space too! It seems just like yesterday that I was a guest at Cro'
+Martin,--poor Martin himself so happy and light-hearted; his dear girl,
+as he called her, full of life and spirits. Your son was there the night
+I speak of. I remember it well, for the madcap girls would make a fool
+of me, and insisted on my singing them a song; and I shall not readily
+forget the shame my compliance inflicted on my learned brother's face."
+
+"Joe told me of it afterwards."
+
+"Ah, he told you, did he? He doubtless remarked with asperity on the
+little sense of my own dignity I possessed?"
+
+"On the contrary, sir, he said, 'Great as are Mr. Rep-ton's gifts, and
+brilliant as are his acquirements, I envy him more the happy buoyancy of
+his nature than all his other qualities.'"
+
+"He's a fine fellow, and it was a generous speech; not but I will be
+vain enough to say he was right,--ay, sir, perfectly right. Of all the
+blessings that pertain to temperament, there is not one to compare with
+the spirit that renews in an old man the racy enjoyment of youth, keeps
+his heart fresh and his mind hopeful. With these, age brings no terrors.
+I shall be seventy-five, sir, if I live to the second of next month, and
+I have not lived long enough to dull the enjoyment life affords me, nor
+diminish the pleasure my heart derives upon hearing of a noble action or
+a generous sentiment."
+
+Nelligan gazed at the speaker in mingled astonishment and admiration.
+Somehow, it was not altogether the man he had expected; but he was far
+from being disappointed at the difference. The Valentine Repton of his
+imagination was a crafty pleader, a subtle cross-examiner, an ingenious
+flatterer of juries; but he was not a man whose nature was assailable by
+anything "not found in the books."
+
+Now, though Nelligan was himself essentially a worldly man, he was
+touched by these traits of one whom he had regarded as a hardened old
+lawyer, distrustful and suspicious.
+
+"Ay, sir," said Repton, as, leaning on the other's arm, he entered the
+drawing-room, "a wiser man than either of us has left it on record, that
+after a long life and much experience of the world, he met far more of
+good and noble qualities in mankind than of their opposite. Take my word
+for it, whenever we are inclined to the contrary opinion, the fault lies
+with ourselves."
+
+While they sat awaiting Massingbred's return, a servant entered with a
+note, which Nelligan, having read, handed over to Repton. It was very
+brief, and ran thus:--
+
+"My dear Mr. Nelligan,--Forgive my not appearing at dinner, and make my
+excuses to Mr. Repton, if he be with you, for I have just fallen in
+with Magennis, who insists on carrying me off to Barnagheela. You can
+understand, I 'm sure, that there are reasons why I could not well
+decline this invitation. Meanwhile, till to-morrow, at breakfast,
+
+"I am yours,
+
+"Jack Massingbred."
+
+
+If there was a little constraint on Nelligan's part at finding himself
+alone to do the honors to his distinguished guest, the feeling soon wore
+away, and a frank, hearty confidence was soon established between these
+two men, who up to the present moment had been following very different
+roads in life. Apart from a lurking soreness, the remnants of long-past
+bitterness, Nelligan's political opinions were fair and moderate, and
+agreed with Repton's now to a great extent. His views as to the people,
+their habits and their natures, were also strikingly just and true. He
+was not over-hopeful, nor was he despondent; too acute an observer to
+refer their faults to any single source, he regarded their complex,
+intricate characters as the consequence of many causes, the issue of
+many struggles. There was about all he said the calm judgment of a man
+desirous of truth; and yet, when he came to speak of the higher classes,
+the great country gentry, he displayed prejudices and mistakes
+quite incredible in one of his discernment. The old grudge of social
+disqualification had eaten deep into his heart, and, as Repton saw, it
+would take at least two generations of men, well-to-do and successful,
+to eradicate the sentiment.
+
+Nelligan was quick enough to see that these opinions of his were not
+shared by his guest, and said, "I cannot expect, Mr. Repton, that you
+will join me in these views; you have seen these people always as an
+equal, if not their superior; they met _you_ with their best faces and
+sweetest flatteries. Not so with us. They draw a line, as though to say,
+go on: make your fortunes; purchase estates; educate your children;
+send them to the universities with our own; teach them our ways, our
+instincts, our manners, and yet, at the end of all, you shall remain
+exactly where you began. You shall never be 'of us.'"
+
+"I am happy to say that I disagree with you," said Repton; "I am a much
+older man than you, and I can draw, therefore, on a longer experience.
+Now the change that I myself have seen come over the tone and temper of
+the world since I was a boy is far more marvellous to me than all the
+new-fangled discoveries around us in steam and electricity. Why, sir,
+the man who now addresses you, born of an ancient stock, as good blood
+as any untitled gentleman of the land, was treated once as Jack Cade
+might be in a London drawing-room. The repute of liberal notions or
+politics at that day stamped you as a democrat and atheist If you sided
+with a popular measure, you were deemed capable of all the crimes of a
+'Danton.'
+
+"Do I not remember it!--Ay, as a student, young, ardent, and
+high-hearted, when I was summoned before the visitors of the university,
+and sternly asked by the dark-browed Lord Chancellor if I belonged to
+a society called the 'Friends of Ireland,' and on my acknowledging the
+fact, without inquiry, without examination, deprived of my scholarship,
+and sent back to my chambers, admonished to be more cautious, and
+menaced with expulsion. I had very little to live on in those days;
+my family had suffered great losses in fortune, and I disliked to be a
+burden to them. I took pupils, therefore, to assist me in my support.
+The Vice-Provost stepped in, however, and interdicted this. 'Young men,'
+he said, 'ran a greater chance of coming out of my hands followers of
+Paine than disciples of Newton.' I starved on till I was called to the
+bar. There fresh insults and mortifications met me. My name on a brief
+seemed a signal for a field-day against Jacobinism and infidelity. The
+very bench forgot its dignity in its zeal. I remember well one day,
+when, stung and maddened by these outrages, I so far forgot myself as
+to reply, and the Court of King's Bench was closed against me for
+twelve long years,--ay, till I came back to it as the first man in my
+profession. It was a trumpery cause,--I forget what; a suit about some
+petty bill of exchange. I disputed the evidence, and sought to show its
+invalidity. The Chief Justice stopped me, and said, 'The Court is aware
+of the point on which you rely; we have known evidence of this nature
+admitted in cases of trial for treason,--cases with which Mr. Repton, we
+know, is very familiar. I stopped; my blood boiled with indignation,
+my temples throbbed to bursting, to be thus singled out amongst my
+brethren--before the public--as a mark of scorn and reprobation. 'It is
+true, my Lord,' said I, with a slow, measured utterance, 'I am familiar
+with such cases. Who is there in this unhappy land that is not? I am
+aware, too, that if I stood in that dock arraigned on such a charge,
+your Lordship would rule that this evidence was admissible; you would
+charge against me, sentence, and hang me; but the present is an action
+for eleven pounds ten, and, therefore, I trust to your Lordship's lenity
+and mercy to reject it.'
+
+"That reply, sir, cost me twelve years of exile from the court wherein I
+uttered it. Those were times when the brow-beating judge could crush
+the bar; nor were the jury always safe in the sanctuary of the jury-box.
+Now, such abuses are no longer in existence; and if we have made no
+other stride in progress, even that is considerable."
+
+"In all that regards the law and its administration, I am sure you are
+correct, sir," said Nelligan, submissively.
+
+"At the period I speak of," resumed Repton, who now was only following
+out his own thoughts and reminiscences, "the judges were little else
+than prefects, administering the country through the channel of the
+penal code, and the jury a set of vulgar partisans, who wielded the
+power of a verdict with all the caprice of a faction; and as to their
+ignorance, why, sir, Crookshank, who afterwards sat on the bench, used
+to tell of a trial for murder at Kells, where the 'murdered man' was two
+hours under cross-examination on the table! Yes, but that is not all;
+the jury retired to deliberate, and came out at length with a verdict of
+'manslaughter,' as the prisoner was 'a bad fellow, and had once stolen a
+saddle from the foreman.' You talk of law and civilization; why, I tell
+you, sir, that the barbaric code of the red man is a higher agent
+of enlightenment than the boasted institutions of England, when thus
+perverted and degraded. No, no, Mr. Nelligan, it may be a fine theme
+for declamation, there may be grand descriptive capabilities about the
+Ireland of sixty or seventy years ago, but be assured, it was a social
+chaos of the worst kind; and as a maxim, sir, remember, that the
+inhabitants of a country are never so much to be pitied as when the
+aspect of their social condition is picturesque!"
+
+Repton fell into a musing fit when he had finished these observations,
+and Nelligan felt too much deference for his guest to disturb him,
+and they sat thus silent for some time, when the old lawyer suddenly
+arousing himself, said,--"What's all this I hear about disturbances, and
+attacks on the police, down here?"
+
+"There's nothing political in it," rejoined Nelligan. "It was resistance
+offered by the people to the service of certain notices on the part of
+this London Jew--Merl, I think they call him."
+
+"Yes, that's the name," quickly responded Repton. "You are aware of the
+circumstances under which he claims the estate?"
+
+"I had it from Brierley, who was told by Scanlan, that he purchased, or
+rather won at play, the entire and sole reversion."
+
+Repton nodded.
+
+"And such is a legal compact, I presume?" said Nelligan.
+
+"If the immoral obligation be well concealed in the negotiation, I don't
+see how it is to be broken. The law, sir," added he, solemnly, "never
+undertakes the charge of fools till a commission be taken out in their
+behalf! This young fellow's pleasure it was to squander his succession
+to a princely estate, and he chanced to meet with one who could
+appreciate his intentions."
+
+"Massingbred told me, however, that some arrangement, some compromise
+was in contemplation; that Merl, knowing that to enforce his claim would
+subject him to a trial and all its disclosures, had shown a disposition
+to treat; in fact, Massingbred has already had an interview with him,
+and but for Scanlan, who desires to push matters to extremity, the
+affair might possibly be accommodated."
+
+"The Jew possibly sees, too, that an Irish succession is not a bloodless
+triumph. He has been frightened, I have no doubt."
+
+"I believe so; they say he took to his bed the day he got back here, and
+has never quitted it since. The people hunted them for four miles across
+the country, and as Merl couldn't leap his horse over the walls, they
+were several times nearly caught by the delay in making gaps for him."
+
+"I'd have given fifty pounds to be in at it," broke out Repton.
+Then suddenly remembering that the aspiration did not sound as very
+dignified, he hemmed and corrected himself, saying, "It must, indeed,
+have been a strange spectacle!"
+
+"They started at Kyle's Wood, and ran them over the low grounds beside
+Kelly's Mills, and then doubling, brought them along the foot of
+Barnagheela Mountain, where, it seems, Magennis joined the chase; he was
+fast closing with them when his gun burst, and rather damaged his hand."
+
+"He fired, then?"
+
+[Illustration: 368]
+
+"Yes, he put a heavy charge of slugs into Merl's horse as he was getting
+through the mill-race, and the beast flung up and threw his rider into
+the stream. Scanlan dismounted and gathered him up, discharging his
+pistol at some country fellow who was rushing forward; they say the man
+has lost an eye. They got off, however, and, gaining the shelter of the
+Cro' Martin wood, they managed to escape at last, and reached this
+about six o'clock, their clothes in tatters, their horses lamed, and
+themselves lamentable objects of fatigue and exhaustion. Since that,
+no one but the doctor has seen Merl, and Scanlan only goes out with an
+escort of police."
+
+"All this sounds very like 'sixty years ago,'" said Repton, laughing.
+
+"I'm afraid it does, and I half dread what the English newspapers may
+say under the heading of 'Galway Barbarities.'"
+
+"By Jove! I must say I like it; that is," said Repton, hesitating and
+confused, "I can see some palliation for the people in such an outburst
+of generous but misdirected feeling. The old name has still its
+spell for their hearts; and even superstitions, sir, are better than
+incredulity!"
+
+"But of what avail is all this? The law must and will be vindicated. It
+may cost some lives, on the road, but Mr. Merl must reach his journey's
+end, at last."
+
+"He may deem the sport, as I have known some men do tiger-hunting, not
+worth the danger," said Repton. "You and I, Mr. Nelligan, acclimated, as
+I may say, to such incidents, would probably not decline the title to
+an estate, whose first step in possession should be enforced by the
+blunderbuss; but make the scene Africa, and say what extent of territory
+would you accept of, on the compact of enforcing your claim against
+the natives? Now, for all the purposes of argument, to this cockney's
+appreciation, these countrymen of ours are Africans."
+
+"I can well understand his terror," said Nelligan, thoughtfully. "I 'm
+sure the yell that followed him through the gap of Kyle-a-Noe will ring
+in his heart for many a day. It was there the pursuit was hottest. As
+they came out, a stranger, who had been here during the winter,--a Mr.
+Barry--"
+
+"What of _him?_ What did _he_ do?" broke in Repton, with great
+eagerness.
+
+"He stood upon an old wall, and hurrahed the people on, calling out,
+'Five gold guineas to the man who will hurl that fellow into the lake.'"
+
+"He said that?" cried Repton.
+
+"Yes, and waved his hat in encouragement to the mob! This was deposed in
+evidence before the bench; and Scanlan's affidavit went on to say, that
+when the temper of the people seemed to relent, and the ardor of
+their pursuit to relax, this man's presence invariably rallied all the
+energies of mischief, and excited the wildest passions of the populace."
+
+"Who or what is he supposed to be?" asked the lawyer.
+
+"Some say, a returned convict,--a banker that was transported thirty
+years ago for forgery; others, that he is Con O'Hara, that killed Major
+Stackpoole in the famous duel at Bunratty Castle. Magennis swears that
+he remembers the face well; at all events, there is a mystery about him,
+and when he came into the shop below stairs--"
+
+"Oh, then, you have seen him yourself?"
+
+"Yes; he came in on Monday last, and asked for some glazed gunpowder,
+and if we had bullets of a large mould to fit his pistols. They were
+curiosities in their way; they were made in America, and had a bore
+large as your thumb."
+
+"You had some conversation with him?"
+
+"A few words about the country and the crops. He said he thought we had
+good prospects for the wheat, and, if we should have a fine harvest,
+a good winter was like to follow. Meaning that, with enough to eat, we
+should have fewer outrages in the dark nights, and by that I knew he
+was one acquainted with the country. I said as much, and then he turned
+fiercely on me, and remarked, 'I never questioned you, sir, about your
+hides and tallow and ten-penny nails, for they were _your_ affairs;
+please, then, to pay the same deference to _me_ and _mine_.' And before
+I could reply he was gone."
+
+"It was a rude speech," said Repton, thoughtfully; "but many men are
+morose from circumstances whose natures are full of kindliness and
+gentleness."
+
+"It was precisely the impression this stranger made upon me. There was
+that in his manner which implied a hard lot in life,--no small share of
+the shadiest side of fortune; and even when his somewhat coarse rebuke
+was uttered, I was more disposed to be angry with myself for being the
+cause than with him who made it."
+
+"Where is he stopping just now?"
+
+"At Kilkieran, I have heard; but he has been repeatedly back and forward
+in the town here during the week, though for the last few days I have
+not seen him. Perhaps he has heard of Scanlan's intention to summons
+him for aiding and abetting an assault, and has kept out of the way in
+consequence."
+
+"_He_ keep out of the way!" cried Repton; "you never mistook a man more
+in your life!"
+
+"You are acquainted with him, then?" said Nelligan, in amazement.
+
+"That am I, sir. No one knows him better, and on my knowledge of the man
+it was that I apologized for his incivility to yourself. If I cannot
+say more, Mr. Nelligan, it is not because I have any mistrust in your
+confidence, but that my friend's secret is, in his own charge, and only
+to be revealed at his own pleasure."
+
+"I wish you would tell him that I never meant to play the spy upon
+him,--that my remark was a merely chance observation--"
+
+"I promise you to do so," broke in Repton. "I promise you still more,
+that before he leaves this you shall have an apology from his own lips
+for his accidental rudeness; nay, two men that would know how to respect
+each other should never part under even a passing misunderstanding. It
+is an old theory of mine, Mr. Nelligan, that good men's good opinions of
+us form the pleasantest store of our reminiscences, and I 'd willingly
+go a hundred miles to remove a misconception that might bring me back to
+the esteem of an honorable heart, though I never were to set eyes again
+on him who possessed it."
+
+"I like your theory well, sir," said Nelligan, cordially.
+
+"You 'll find the practice will reward you," said Repton.
+
+"I confess this stranger has inspired me with great curiosity."
+
+"I can well understand the feeling," said Repton, musing. "It is with
+men as with certain spots in landscape, there are chance glimpses which
+suggest to us the fair scenes that lie beyond our view! Poor fellow!
+poor fellow!" muttered he once or twice to himself; and then starting
+abruptly, said, "You have made me so cordially welcome here that I
+am going to profit by every privilege of a guest. I 'm going to say
+good-night, for I have much before me on the morrow."
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXV. HOW DIPLOMACY FAILED
+
+Repton was up at daybreak, and at his desk. Immense folios littered the
+table, and even the floor around him, and the old lawyer sat amidst a
+chaos that it was difficult to believe was only the growth of an hour or
+two. All the intentness of his occupation, however, did not prevent him
+hearing a well-known voice in the little stable-yard beneath his window,
+and opening the sash he called out, "Mas-singbred, is that you?"
+
+"Ah, Mr. Repton, are you stirring so early? I had not expected to see
+you for at least two hours to come. May I join you?"
+
+"By all means; at once," was the answer. And the next moment they were
+together. "Where's Barry? When did you see him last?" was Repton's first
+question.
+
+"For a moment, on Tuesday last; he came up here to learn if you had
+arrived, or when you might be expected. He seemed disappointed when I
+said not before the latter end of the week, and muttered something about
+being too late. He seemed flurried and excited. I heard afterwards
+that he had been somehow mixed up with that tumultuous assemblage that
+resisted the police, and I offered to go back with him to Kilkieran, but
+he stopped me short, saying, 'I am not at Kilkieran;' and so abruptly as
+to show that my proposal was not acceptable. He then sat down and wrote
+a short letter, which he desired me to give you on arriving; but to
+deliver it with my own hand, as, if any reply were necessary, I should
+be ready to carry it to him. This is the letter."
+
+Repton read it rapidly, and then, walking to the window, stood pondering
+over the contents.
+
+"You know this man Merl, don't you, Massingbred?" asked Repton.
+
+"Yes, thoroughly."
+
+"The object of this letter is to try one last chance for an arrangement.
+Barry suspects that the Jew's ambition for Irish proprietorship may have
+been somewhat dashed by the experience of the last few days; that he
+will be likely enough to weigh the advantages and disadvantages with a
+juster appreciation than if he had never come here, and, if such be the
+case, we are ready to meet with a fair and equitable offer. We'll repay
+him all that he advanced in cash to young Martin, and all that he won
+from him at play, if he surrender his reversionary claim. We'll ask no
+questions as to how this loan was made, or how that debt incurred. It
+shall be the briefest of all transactions,--a sum in simple addition,
+and a check for the total."
+
+"He'll refuse,--flatly refuse it," said Massingbred. "The very offer
+will restore any confidence the last few days may have shaken; he'll
+judge the matter like the shares of a stock that are quoted higher in
+the market."
+
+"You think so?"
+
+"I'm sure of it. I'm ashamed to say, Mr. Repton, that my knowledge of
+the Herman Merl class may be greater than yours. It is the one solitary
+point in the realm of information wherein I am probably your superior."
+
+"There are others, and of a very different order, in which I would
+own you the master," said Repton. "But to our case. Suppose,--a mere
+supposition, if you like,--but suppose that it could be demonstrated to
+Mr. Merl that his claim will be not only resisted, but defeated; that
+the right on which he relies is valueless,--the deed not worth the
+stamps it bears; that this offer is made to avoid a publicity and
+exposure far more injurious to him than to those who now shrink from it.
+What think you then?"
+
+"Simply that he'd not believe it! He'd say, and many others would say,
+'If the right lay so incontestably with these others, they 'd not give
+some twenty thousand pounds to compromise what they could enforce for
+the mere cost of a trial.'"
+
+"Mr. Massingbred, too, would perhaps take the same view of the
+transaction," said Repton, half tartly.
+
+"Not if Mr. Repton assured me that he backed the opposite opinion," said
+Jack, politely.
+
+"I thank you heartily for that speech," said the old man, as he grasped
+the other's hand cordially; "you deserve, and shall have my fullest
+confidence."
+
+"May I ask," said Jack, "if this offer to buy off Merl be made in the
+interest of the Martins, for otherwise I really see no great object, so
+far as they are concerned, in the change of mastery?"
+
+"You'll have to take _my_ word for that," said Repton, "or rather, to
+take the part I assume in this transaction as the evidence of it; and
+now, as I see that you are satisfied, will you accept of the duty of
+this negotiation? Will you see and speak with Merl? Urge upon him all
+the arguments your own ingenuity will furnish, and when you come, if
+you should be so driven, to the coercive category, and that you want
+the siege artillery, then send for _me_. Depend upon it, it will be no
+_brutum fulmen_ that I 'll bring up; nor will I, as Pelham said, fire
+with 'government powder.' My cannon shall be inscribed, like those of
+the old volunteers, independence or--"
+
+At any other moment Jack might have smiled at the haughty air and
+martial stride of the old man, as, stimulated by his words, he paced the
+room; but there was a sincerity and a resolution about him that offered
+no scope for ridicule. His very features wore a look of intrepidity that
+bespoke the courage that animated him.
+
+"Now, Massingbred," said he, laying his hand on the young man's arm, "it
+is only because I am not free to tell another man's secret that I do
+not at once place you fully in possession of all I myself know of this
+transaction; but rely on it, you shall be informed on every point, and
+immediately after the issue of this negotiation with Merl, whatever be
+the result, you shall stand on the same footing with myself."
+
+"You cannot suppose that I exact this confidence?" began Jack.
+
+"I only know it is your due, sir," said Repton. "Go now,--it is not too
+early; see this man, and let the meeting be of the briefest, for if I
+were to tell you my own mind, I'd say I'd rather he should reject our
+offer."
+
+"You are, I own, a little incomprehensible this morning," said
+Massingbred, "but I am determined to yield you a blind obedience; and so
+I'm off."
+
+"I 'll wait breakfast for you," said Repton, as he reseated himself to
+his work.
+
+Repton requested Mr. Nelligan's permission to have his breakfast
+served in his own room, and sat for a long time impatiently awaiting
+Massingbred's return. He was at one time aroused by a noise below
+stairs, but it was not the announcement of him he looked for; and he
+walked anxiously to and fro in his chamber, each moment adding to the
+uneasiness that he felt.
+
+"Who was it that arrived half an hour ago?" asked he of the servant.
+
+"Mr. Joe, sir, the counsellor, has just come from Dublin, and is at
+breakfast with the master."
+
+"Ah! he 's come, is he? So much the better," muttered Repton, "we may
+want his calm, clear head to assist us here; not that we shall have to
+fear a contest,--there is no enemy in the field,--and if there were,
+Val Repton is ready to meet him!" And the old man crossed his arms, and
+stood erect in all the consciousness of his undiminished vigor. "Here
+he comes at last,--I know his step on the stair." And he flung open the
+door for Massingbred.
+
+"I read failure in your flushed cheek, Massingbred; failure and anger
+both, eh?"
+
+Massingbred tried to smile. If there was any quality on which he
+especially prided himself, it was the bland semblance of equanimity he
+could assume in circumstances of difficulty and irritation. It was
+his boast to be able to hide his most intense emotions at moments
+of passion, and there was a period in which, indeed, he wielded this
+acquirement. Of later times, however, he had grown more natural
+and impulsive; he had not yet lost the sense of pain this yielding
+occasioned, and it was with evident irritation that he found Repton had
+read his thoughts.
+
+"You perceive, then, that I am unsuccessful?" said he, with a faint
+smile. "So much the better if my face betrays me; it will save a world
+of explanation!"
+
+"Make your report, sir, and I'll make the tea," said Repton, as he
+proceeded to that office.
+
+"The fellow was in bed,--he refused to see me, and it was only by some
+insistence that I succeeded in gaining admittance. He has had leeches
+to his temples. He was bruised, it seems, when he fell, but far more
+frightened than hurt. He looks the very picture of terror, and lies
+with a perfect armory of pistols beside his bed. Scanlan was there,
+and thought to remain during our interview; but I insisted on his
+withdrawing, and he went. The amiable attorney, somehow, has a kind of
+respect for me that is rather amusing. As for Merl, he broke out into a
+vulgar tirade of passion, abused the country and the people, cursed the
+hour he came amongst them, and said, if he only knew the nature of the
+property before he made his investment, he 'd rather have purchased
+Guatemala bonds, or Santa Fe securities.
+
+"'Then I have come fortunately,' said I, 'for I bring you an offer to
+reimburse all your outlay, and to rid you of a charge so little to your
+inclination.'
+
+"'Oh! you do, do you?' said he, with one of his cunningest leers.
+'You may not be able, perhaps, to effect that bargain, though. It's one
+thing to pay down a smart sum of money and wait your time for recovering
+it, and it's another to surrender your compact when the hour of
+acquisition has arrived. I bought this reversion--at least, I paid the
+first instalment of the price--four years ago, when the late man's life
+was worth twenty years' purchase. Well, he 's gone now, and do you think
+that I 'm going to give up my claim for what it cost me?'
+
+"I gently insinuated that the investigation of the claim might lead to
+unpleasant revelations. There were various incidents of the play-table,
+feasible and successful enough after a supper with champagne, and in the
+short hours before day, which came off with an ill-grace on the table of
+a court of justice, with three barons of the exchequer to witness them.
+That I myself might prove an awkward evidence, if unhappily cited to
+appear; that of my own knowledge I could mention three young fellows of
+good fortune who had been drained to their last shilling in his company.
+In fact, we were both remarkably candid with each other, and while _I_
+reminded _him_ of some dark passages at _ecarte, he_ brought to _my_
+memory certain protested bills and dishonored notes that 'non jucundum
+esset meminisse.' I must say, for both of us, we did the thing well, and
+in good breeding; we told and listened to our several shortcomings with
+a temper that might have graced a better cause, and I defy the world to
+produce two men who could have exchanged the epithets of swindler and
+scamp with more thorough calm and good manners. Unhappily, however, high
+as one rises in his own esteem by such contests, he scarcely makes the
+same ascent in that of his neighbor, and so we came, in our overflowing
+frankness, to admit to each other more of our respective opinions than
+amounts to flattery. I believe, and, indeed, I hope, I should have
+maintained my temper to the end, had not the fellow pretty broadly
+insinuated that some motive of personal advantage had prompted my
+interference, and actually pushed his insolence so far as to insinuate
+that 'I should make a better thing' by adhering to his fortunes."
+
+Repton started at these words, and Massingbred resumed: "True, upon my
+honor; I exaggerate nothing. It was a gross outrage, and very difficult
+to put up with; so I just expressed my sincere regret that instead of
+being in bed he was not up and stirring, inasmuch as I should have tried
+what change of air might have done for him, by pitching him out of the
+window. He tugged violently at the bell-rope, as though I were about to
+execute my menace, and so I left him. My diplomacy has, therefore, been
+a sad failure. I only hope that I may not have increased the difficulty
+of the case by my treatment of it."
+
+"You never thought of _me_ at all, then?" asked Repton.
+
+"Never, till I was once more in the street; then I remembered something
+of what you said about coercive means, but of what avail a mere menace?
+This fellow is not new to such transactions,--he has gone through all
+the phases of 'bulleydom.' Besides, there is a dash of Shylock in every
+Jew that ever breathed. They will 'have their bond,' unless it can be
+distinctly proved to them that the thing is impossible."
+
+"Now then for our breaching battery," said Repton, rising and pacing
+the room. "This attempt at a compromise never had any favor in my eyes;
+Barry wished it, and I yielded. Now for a very different course. Can
+you find a saddle-horse here? Well, then, be ready to set out in half an
+hour, and search out Barry for me. He'll be found at Kilkieran, or the
+neighborhood; say we must meet at once; arrange time and place for the
+conference, and come back to me."
+
+Repton issued his directions with an air of command, and Massingbred
+prepared as implicitly to obey them.
+
+"Mr. Nelligan has lent me his own pad," said Massingbred, entering soon
+after, "and his son will accompany me, so that I am at your orders at
+once."
+
+"There are your despatches," said Repton, giving him a sealed packet.
+"Let me see you here as soon as may be."
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXVI. A GREAT DISCOVERY
+
+About an hour after Massingbred's departure for Kilkieran, Mr. Repton
+set out for Cro' Martin Castle. The inn had furnished him its best
+chaise and four of its primest horses; and had the old lawyer been
+disposed to enjoy the pleasure which a great moralist has rated so
+highly, of rapid motion through the air, he might have been gratified on
+that occasion. Unhappily, however, he was not so minded. Many and very
+serious cares pressed upon him. He was travelling a road, too, which he
+had so often journeyed in high spirits, fancying to himself the pleasant
+welcome before him, and even rehearsing to his own mind the stores of
+agreeability he was to display,--and now it was to a deserted mansion,
+lonely and desolate, he was turning! Death and ruin both had done their
+work on that ancient family, whose very name in the land seemed already
+hastening to oblivion!
+
+Few men could resist the influence of depression better than Repton. It
+was not alone that his temperament was still buoyant and energetic,
+but the habits of his profession had taught him the necessity of being
+prepared for emergencies, and he would have felt it a dereliction of
+duty were his sentiments to overmaster his power of action.
+
+Still, as he went along, the well-known features of the spot would
+recall memories of the past. There lay a dense wood, of which he
+remembered the very day, the very hour, poor Martin had commenced the
+planting. There was the little trout-stream, where, under pretence
+of fishing, he had lounged along the summer day, with Horace for his
+companion; that, the school-house Mary had sketched, and built out of
+her own pocket-money. And now the great massive gates slowly opened, and
+they were within the demesne,--all silent and noiseless. As they came in
+sight of the castle, Repton covered his face with his hands, and sat for
+some minutes thus. Then, as if mastering his emotion, he raised his head
+and folded his arms on his chest.
+
+"You are true to time, I perceive, Dr. Leslie," said he, as the chaise
+stopped at the door and the venerable clergyman came forward to greet
+him.
+
+"I got your note last night, sir, but I determined not to keep you
+waiting, for I perceive you say that time is precious now."
+
+"I thank you heartily," said Repton, as he shook the other's hand. "I am
+grateful to you also for being here to meet me, for I begin to feel my
+courage fail me as to crossing that threshold again!"
+
+"Age has its penalties as well as its blessings, sir," said Leslie,
+"and amongst these is to outlive those dear to us!" There was a painful
+significance to his own desolate condition that made these words doubly
+impressive.
+
+Repton made no reply, but pulled the bell strongly; and the loud, deep
+sounds rung out clearly through the silent house. After a brief interval
+a small window above the door was opened, and a man with a blunderbuss
+in his hand sternly demanded their business.
+
+"Oh, I ax pardon, sir," said he, as suddenly correcting himself. "I
+thought it was that man that 's come to take the place,--'the Jew,'
+they call him,--and Mr. Magennis said I was n't to let him in, or one
+belonging to him."
+
+"No, Barney, we are not his friends," said Dr. Leslie; "this is Mr.
+Repton."
+
+"Sure I know the Counsellor well, sir," said Barney. "I 'll be down in a
+minute and open the door."
+
+"I must go to work at once," said Repton, in a low and somewhat broken
+voice, "or this place will be too much for me. Every step I go is
+calling up old times and old scenes. I had thought my heart was
+of sterner stuff. Isn't this the way to the library? No, not that
+way,--that was poor Martin's own breakfast-room!" He spoke hurriedly,
+like one who wished to suppress emotion by very activity of thought.
+
+
+While the man who conducted them opened the window-shutters and the
+windows, Repton and his companion sat down without speaking. At last he
+withdrew, and Repton, rising, said,--"Some of the happiest hours of my
+life were passed in this same room. I used to come up here after the
+fatigues of circuit, and, throwing myself into one of those easy-chairs,
+dream away for a day or two, gazing out on that bold mountain yonder,
+above the trees, and wondering how those fellows who never relaxed, in
+this wise, could sustain the wear and tear of life; for that junketing
+to Harrow-gate, that rattling, noisy steamboating up the Rhine, that
+Cockney heroism of Swiss travel, is my aversion. The calm forenoon
+for thought, the pleasant dinner-table for genial enjoyment
+afterwards,--these are true recreations. And what evenings we have had
+here! But I must not dwell on these." And now he threw upon the table a
+mass of papers and letters, amongst which he sought out one, from which
+he took a small key. "Dr. Leslie," said he, "you might have been assured
+that I have not called upon you to meet me to-day without a sufficient
+reason. I know that, from certain causes, of which I am not well
+informed, you were not on terms of much intimacy with my poor friend
+here. This is not a time to think of these things; _you_, I am well
+assured, will never remember them."
+
+Leslie made a motion of assent; and the other went on, his voice
+gradually gaining in strength and fulness, and his whole manner by
+degrees assuming the characteristic of the lawyer.
+
+"To the few questions to which I will ask your answers, now, I have to
+request all your attention. They are of great importance; they may, very
+probably, be re-asked of you under more solemn circumstances; and I have
+to bespeak, not alone all your accuracy for the replies, but that you
+may be able, if asked, to state the manner and even the words in which
+I now address you.--You have been the incumbent of this parish for a
+length of time,--what number of years?"
+
+"Sixty-three. I was appointed to the vicarage on my ordination, and
+never held any other charge."
+
+"You knew the late Darcy Martin, father of the last proprietor of this
+estate?"
+
+"Intimately."
+
+"You baptized his two children, born at the same birth. State what you
+remember of the circumstance."
+
+"I was sent for to the castle to give a private baptism to the two
+infants, and requested that I would bring the vestry-book along with
+me for the registration. I did so. The children were accordingly
+christened, and their births duly registered and witnessed."
+
+"Can you remember the names by which they were called?"
+
+"Not from the incident in question, though I know the names from
+subsequent knowledge of them, as they grew up to manhood."
+
+"What means, if any, were adopted at the time to distinguish the
+priority of birth?"
+
+"The eldest was first baptized, and his birth specially entered in
+the vestry-book as such; all the witnesses who signed the entry
+corroborating the fact by special mention of it under their signature.
+We also heard that the child wore a gold bracelet on one arm; but I did
+not remark it."
+
+"You have this vestry-book in your keeping?"
+
+"No; Mr. Martin retained it, with some object of more formal
+registration. I repeatedly asked for it, but never could obtain it. At
+length some coolness grew up between us, and I could not, or did not
+wish to press my demand; and at last it lapsed entirely from my memory,
+so that from that day I never saw it."
+
+"You could, however, recognize it, and be able to verify your
+signature?"
+
+"Certainly."
+
+"Was there, so far as you could see, any marked distinction made between
+the children while yet young?"
+
+"I can remember that at the age of three or four the eldest boy wore a
+piece of red or blue ribbon on his sleeve; but any other mark I never
+observed. They were treated, so far as I could perceive, precisely
+alike; and their resemblance to each other was then so striking, it
+would have been a matter of great nicety to distinguish them. Even
+at school, I am told, mistakes constantly occurred, and one boy once
+received the punishment incurred by the other."
+
+"As they grew up, you came to recognize the eldest by his name?"
+
+"Yes. Old Mr. Darcy Martin used to take the elder boy more about with
+him. He was then a child of ten or eleven years old. He was particular
+in calling attention to him, saying, 'This fellow is to be my heir;
+he 'll be the Martin of Cro' Martin yet'"
+
+"And what name did the boy bear?"
+
+"Godfrey,--Godfrey Martin. The second boy's name was Barry."
+
+"You are sure of this?"
+
+"Quite sure. I have dined a number of times at the castle, when Godfrey
+was called in after dinner, and the other boy was generally in disgrace;
+and I could remark that his father spoke of him in a tone of irritation
+and bitterness, which he did not employ towards the other."
+
+"Mr. Martin died before his sons came of age?"
+
+"Yes; they were only nineteen at his death."
+
+"He made a will, I believe, to which you were a witness?"
+
+"I was; but somehow the will was lost or mislaid, and it was only by
+a letter to the Honorable Colonel Forbes, of Lisvally, that Martin's
+intentions about appointing him guardian to his elder boy were
+ascertained. I myself was named guardian to the second son, an office
+of which he soon relieved me by going abroad, and never returned for a
+number of years."
+
+"Godfrey Martin then succeeded to the estate in due course?"
+
+"Yes, and we were very intimate for a time, till after his marriage,
+when estrangement grew up between us, and at last we ceased to visit at
+all."
+
+"Were the brothers supposed to be on good terms with each other?"
+
+"I have heard two opposite versions on that subject. My own impression
+was that Lady Dorothea disliked Barry Martin, who had made a marriage
+that was considered beneath him; and then his brother was, from easiness
+of disposition, gradually weaned of his old affection for him. Many
+thought Barry, with all his faults, the better-hearted of the two."
+
+"Can you tell what ultimately became of this Barry Martin?"
+
+"I only know, from common report, that after the death of his wife,
+having given his infant child, a girl, in charge to his brother, he
+engaged in the service of some of the Southern American Republics,
+and is supposed yet to be living there,--some say in great affluence;
+others, that he is utterly ruined by a failure in a mining speculation.
+The last time I ever heard Godfrey speak of him was in terms of sincere
+affection, adding the words, 'Poor Barry will befriend every one but
+himself.'"
+
+"So that he never returned?"
+
+"I believe not; at least I never heard of it."
+
+"I have written down these questions and your answers to them," said
+Repton; "will you read them over, and if you find them correct, append
+your signature. I am expecting Mr. Nelligan here, and I 'll go and see
+if there be any sign of his arrival."
+
+Repton just reached the door as Mr. Nelligan drove up to it.
+
+"All goes on well and promptly to-day," said the old lawyer. "I have got
+through a good deal of business already, and I expect to do as much more
+ere evening sets in. I have asked you to be present, as a magistrate,
+while I examine the contents of a certain closet in this house. I am led
+to believe that very important documents are deposited there, and it is
+in your presence, and that of Mr. Leslie, I purpose to make the inquiry.
+Before I do so, however, I will entreat your attention to a number of
+questions, and the answers to them, which will be read out to you. You
+will then be in a better position to judge of any discovery which the
+present investigation may reveal. All this sounds enigmatically enough,
+Mr. Nelligan; but you will extend your patience to me for a short while,
+and I hope to repay it."
+
+Nelligan bowed in silence, and followed him into the house.
+
+"There," said Mr. Leslie, "I have written my name to that paper; it is,
+so far as I can see, perfectly correct."
+
+"Now, let me read it for Mr. Nelligan," said Repton; and, without
+further preface, recited aloud the contents of the document. "I
+conclude, sir," said he, as he finished, "that there is nothing in what
+you have just heard very new or very strange to your ears. You knew
+before that Darcy Martin had two sons; that they were twins; and that
+one of them, Godfrey, inherited the estate. You may also have heard
+something of the brother's history; more, perhaps, than is here alluded
+to."
+
+"I have always heard him spoken of as a wild, reckless fellow, and that
+it was a piece of special good fortune he was not born to the property,
+or he had squandered every shilling of it," said Nelligan.
+
+"Yes," said Leslie, "such was the character he bore."
+
+"That will do," said Repton, rising. "Now, gentlemen, I'm about to
+unlock this cabinet, and, if I be correctly informed, we shall find
+the vestry-book with the entries spoken of by Mr. Leslie, and the long
+missing will of Darcy Martin. Such, I repeat, are the objects I expect
+to discover; and it is in your presence I proceed to this examination."
+
+In some astonishment at his words, the others followed him to the corner
+of the room, where, half concealed in the wainscot, a small door was
+at length discovered, unlocking which, Repton and the others entered a
+little chamber, lighted by a narrow, loopholed window. Not stopping to
+examine the shelves loaded with old documents and account-books, Repton
+walked straight to a small ebony cabinet, on a bracket, opening which,
+he drew forth a square vellum-bound book, with massive clasps.
+
+"The old vestry-book. I know it well," said Leslie.
+
+"Here are the documents in parchment," continued Repton, "and a sealed
+paper. What are the lines in the corner, Mr. Nelligan,--your eyes are
+better than mine?"
+
+"'Agreement between Godfrey and Barry Martin. To be opened by whichever
+shall survive the other.' The initials of each are underneath."
+
+"With this we have no concern," said Repton; "our business lies with
+these." And he pointed to the vestry-book. "Let us look for the entry
+you spoke of."
+
+"It is easily found," said Leslie. "It was the last ever made in that
+book. Here it is." And he read aloud: "'February 8th, 1772. Privately
+baptized, at Cro' Martin Castle, by me, Henry Leslie, Incumbent and
+Vicar of the said parish, Barry and Godfrey, sons of Darcy Martin and
+Eleanor his wife, both born on the fourth day of the aforesaid month;
+and, for the better discrimination of their priority in age, it is
+hereby added that Barry Martin is the elder, and Godfrey the second
+son, to which fact the following are attesting witnesses: Michael Keirn,
+house-steward; George Dorcas, butler; and Catharine Broon, maid of
+still-room.'"
+
+"Is that in your handwriting, sir?" asked Repton.
+
+"Yes, every word of it, except the superscription of the witnesses."
+
+"Why, then it would appear that the eldest son never enjoyed his
+rights," cried Nelligan. "Is that possible?"
+
+"It is the strict truth, sir," said Repton. "The whole history of the
+case adds one to the thousand instances of the miserable failures men
+make who seek by the indulgence of their own caprices to obstruct the
+decrees of Providence. Darcy Martin died in the belief that he had
+so succeeded; and here, now, after more than half a century, are the
+evidences which reverse his whole policy, and subvert all his plans."
+
+"But what could have been the object here?" asked Nelligan.
+
+"Simply his preference for the younger-born. No sooner had the children
+arrived at that time of life when dispositions display themselves, than
+he singled out Godfrey as his favorite. He distinguished him in every
+way, and as markedly showed that he felt little affection for the other.
+Whether this favoritism, so openly expressed, had its influence on the
+rest of the household, or that really they grew to believe that the
+boy thus selected for peculiar honor was the heir, it would be very
+difficult now to say. Each cause may have contributed its share; all we
+know is, that when sent to Dr. Harley's school, at Oughterard, Godfrey
+was called the elder, and distinguished as such by a bit of red ribbon
+in his button-hole. And thus they grew up to youth and manhood,--the
+one flattered, indulged, and caressed; the other equally depreciated and
+undervalued. Men are, in a great measure, what others make them.
+Godfrey became proud, indolent, and overbearing; Barry, reckless and a
+spendthrift Darcy Martin died, and Godfrey succeeded him as matter of
+course; while Barry, disposing of the small property bequeathed to him,
+set out to seek adventures in the Spanish Main.
+
+"I am not able to tell, had you even the patience to hear, of what
+befell him there; the very strangest, wildest incidents are recorded
+of his life, but they have no bearing on what we are now engaged in. He
+came back, however, with a wife, to find his brother also married. This
+is a period of his life of which little is known. The brothers did not
+live well together. There were serious differences between them; and
+Lady Dorothea's conduct towards her sister-in-law, needlessly cruel and
+offensive, as I have heard, imbittered the relations between them.
+At last Barry's wife died, it was said, of a broken heart, and Barry
+arrived at Cro' Martin to deposit his infant child with his brother, and
+take leave of home and country forever.
+
+"Some incident of more than usual importance, and with circumstances
+of no common pain, must now have occurred; for one night Barry left the
+castle, vowing nevermore to enter it. Godfrey followed, and tried to
+detain him. A scene ensued of entreaty on one side, and passionate
+vehemence on the other, which brought some of the servants to the spot.
+Godfrey imperiously ordered them away; they all obeyed but Catty. Catty
+Broon followed Barry, and never quitted him that night, which he spent
+walking up and down the long avenue of the demesne, watching and waiting
+for daybreak. We can only conjecture what, in the violence of her grief
+and indignation, this old attached follower of the house might have
+revealed. Barry had always been her favorite of the two boys; she knew
+his rights; she had never forgotten them. She could not tell by what
+subtleties of law they had been transferred to another, but she felt in
+her heart assured that in the sight of God they were sacred. How far,
+then, she revealed this to him, or only hinted it, we have no means of
+knowing. We can only say that, armed with a certain fact, Barry demanded
+the next day a formal meeting with his brother and his sister-in-law. Of
+what passed then and there, no record remains, save, possibly, in
+that sealed packet; for it bears the date of that eventful morning.
+I, however, am in a position to prove that Barry declared he would not
+disturb the possession Godfrey was then enjoying. 'Make that poor
+child,' said he, alluding to his little girl, your own daughter, and it
+matters little what becomes of _me_.' Godfrey has more than once
+adverted to this distressing scene to me. He told me how Lady Dorothea's
+passion was such that she alternately inveighed against himself for
+having betrayed her into a marriage beneath her, and abjectly implored
+Barry not to expose them to the shame and disgrace of the whole world by
+the assertion of his claim. From this she would burst out into fits of
+open defiance of him, daring him as an impostor; in fact, Martin said,
+'That morning has darkened my life forever; the shadow of it will be
+over me to the last hour I live!' And so it was! Self-reproach never
+left him: at one time, for his usurpation of what never was his; at
+another, for the neglect of poor Mary, who was suffered to grow up
+without any care of her education, or, indeed, of any attention whatever
+bestowed upon her.
+
+"I believe that, in spite of herself, Lady Dorothea visited the
+dislike she bore Barry on his daughter. It was a sense of hate from the
+consciousness of a wrong,--one of the bitterest sources of enmity!
+At all events, she showed her little affection,--no tenderness. Poor
+Godfrey did all that his weak and yielding nature would permit to repair
+this injustice; his consciousness that to that girl's father he owed
+position, fortune, station, everything, was ever rising up in his mind,
+and urging him to some generous effort in her behalf. But you knew him;
+you knew how a fatal indolence, a shrinking horror of whatever demanded
+action or energy overcame all his better nature, and made him as
+useless to all the exigencies of life as one whose heart was eaten up by
+selfishness.
+
+"The remainder of this sad story is told in very few words. Barry Martin,
+from whom for several years before no tidings had been received, came
+suddenly back to England. At first it had not been his intention to
+revisit Ireland. There was something of magnanimity in the resolve to
+stay away. He would not come back to impose upon his brother a renewal
+of that lease of gratitude he derived from him; he would rather spare
+him the inevitable conflict of feeling which the contrast of his own
+affluence with the humble condition of an exile would evoke. Besides, he
+was one of those men whom, whatever Nature may have disposed them to be,
+the world has so crushed and hardened that they live rather to indulge
+strong resentments and stern duties than to gratify warm affections.
+Something he had accidentally heard in a coffee-room--the chance mention
+by a traveller recently returned from Ireland--about a young lady of
+rank and fortune whom he had met hunting her own harriers alone in the
+wildest glen of Connemara, decided him to go over there, and, under the
+name of Mr. Barry, to visit the scenes of his youth.
+
+"I have but to tell you that it was in that dreary month of November,
+when plague and famine came together upon us, that he saw this country;
+the people dying on every side, the land until led, the very crops in
+some places uncut, terror and dismay on every side, and they who alone
+could have inspired confidence, or afforded aid, gone! Even Cro' Martin
+was deserted,--worse than deserted; for one was left to struggle alone
+against difficulties that the boldest and the bravest might have shrunk
+from. Had Barry Martin been like any other man, he would at once have
+placed himself at her side. It was a glorious occasion to have shown
+her that she was not the lone and friendless orphan, but the loved and
+cherished child of a doting father. But the hard, stern nature of the
+man had other and very different impulses; and though he tracked her
+from cottage to cottage, followed her in her lonely rambles, and watched
+her in her daily duties, no impulse of affection ever moved him to call
+her his daughter and bring her home to his heart. I know not whether it
+was to afford him these occasions of meeting her, or really in a spirit
+of benevolence, but he dispensed large sums in acts of charity among the
+people, and Mary herself recounted to me, with tears of delight in her
+eyes, the splendid generosity of this unknown stranger. I must hasten
+on. An accident, the mere circumstance of a note-book dropped by some
+strange chance in Barry's room, revealed to him the whole story of
+Captain Martin's spendthrift life; he saw that this young man had
+squandered away not only immense sums obtained by loans, but actually
+bartered his own reversionary right to the entire estate for money
+already lost at the gaming-table.
+
+"Barry at once set out for Dublin to call upon me and declare himself;
+but I was, unfortunately, absent at the assizes. He endeavored next to
+see Scanlan. Scanlan was in London; he followed him there. To Scanlan he
+represented himself as a money-lender, who, having come to the knowledge
+of Merl's dealings with young Martin, and the perilous condition of the
+property in consequence, offered his aid to re-purchase the reversion
+while it was yet time. To effect this bargain, Scanlan hastened over to
+Baden, accompanied by Barry, who, however, for secrecy' sake, remained
+at a town in the neighborhood. Scanlan, it seems, resolved to profit
+by an emergency so full of moment, and exacted from Lady Dorothea--for
+Martin was then too ill to be consulted--the most advantageous terms for
+himself. I need not mention one of the conditions,--a formal consent to
+his marriage with Miss Martin! and this, remember, when that young lady
+had not the slightest, vaguest suspicion that such an indignity could
+be offered her, far less concurred in by her nearest relatives! In the
+exuberance of his triumph, Scanlan showed the formal letter of assent
+from Lady Dorothea to Barry. It was from this latter I had the account,
+and I can give you no details, for all he said was, 'As I crushed it in
+my hand, I clenched my fist to fell him to the ground! but I refrained.
+I muttered a word or two, and got out into the street. I know very
+little more.'
+
+"That night he set out for Baden; but of his journey I know nothing. The
+only hint of it he ever dropped was when, giving me this key, he said,
+'I saw Godfrey.'
+
+"He is now back here once more; come to insist upon his long unasserted
+rights, and by a title so indisputable that it will leave no doubt of
+the result.
+
+"He is silent and uncommunicative; but he has said enough to show me
+that he is possessed of evidence of the compact between Godfrey and
+himself; nor is he the man to fail for lack of energy.
+
+"I have now come to the end of this strange history, in which it is not
+impossible you yourselves may be called to play a part, in confirmation
+of what you have seen this day."
+
+"Then this was the same Mr. Barry of whom we spoke last night?" said
+Nelligan, thoughtfully. "When about to describe him to you, I was really
+going to say, something like what Mr. Martin might look, if ten years
+older and white-haired."
+
+"There is a strong resemblance still!" said Repton, as he busied himself
+sealing up the vestry-book and the other documents. "These I mean to
+deposit in your keeping, Mr. Nelligan, till they be called for. I have
+sent over Massingbred to Barry to learn what his wishes may be as to the
+next legal steps; and now I am ready to return with you to Oughterard."
+
+Talking over this singular story, they reached the town, where
+Massingbred had just arrived a short time before.
+
+"I have had a long chase," said Jack, "and only found him late in the
+afternoon at the cottage."
+
+"You gave him the packet, then, and asked when we should meet?" asked
+Repton, hurriedly.
+
+"Yes; he was walking up and down before the door with the doctor, when
+we rode up. He scarcely noticed us; and taking your letter in his hand
+he placed it, without breaking the seal, on a seat in the porch. I then
+gave him your message, and he seemed so lost in thought that I fancied
+he had not attended to me. I was about to repeat it, when he interrupted
+me, saying, 'I have heard you, sir; there is no answer.' As I stood
+for a moment or two, uncertain what to do or say, I perceived that
+Joe Nelligan, who had been speaking to the doctor, had just staggered
+towards a bench, ill and fainting. 'Yes,' said Barry, turning his eyes
+towards him, 'she is very--very ill; tell Repton so, and he 'll feel for
+me!'"
+
+Repton pressed his handkerchief to his face and turned away.
+
+"I 'm afraid," said Massingbred, "that her state is highly dangerous.
+The few words the doctor dropped were full of serious meaning."
+
+"Let us hope, and pray," said Repton, fervently, "that, amidst all the
+calamities of this sorrow-struck land, it may be spared the loss of one
+who never opened a cabin door without a blessing, nor closed it but to
+shut a hope within."
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXVII. A DARK DAY
+
+A mild, soft day, with low-lying clouds, and rich odors of wild-flowers
+rising from the ground, a certain dreamy quiet pervading earth and sky
+and sea, over which faint shadows lingered lazily; some drops of the
+night dew still glittered on the feathery larches, and bluebells hung
+down their heads, heavy with moisture; so still the scene that the plash
+of the leaping trout could be heard as he rose in the dark stream. And
+yet there was a vast multitude of people there. The whole surface of the
+lawn that sloped from the cottage to the river was densely crowded, with
+every age, from the oldest to very infancy; with all conditions, from
+the well-clad peasant to the humblest "tramper" of the high-roads.
+Weariness, exhaustion, and even hunger were depicted on many of their
+faces. Some had passed the night there; others had come long distances,
+faint and footsore; but as they sat, stood, or lay in groups around,
+not a murmur, not a whisper escaped them; with aching eyes they looked
+towards an open window, where the muslin curtain was gently stirred in
+the faint air.
+
+The tidings of Mary Martin's illness had spread rapidly: far-away glens
+down the coast, lonely cabins on the bleak mountains, wild remote spots
+out of human intercourse had heard the news, and their dwellers had
+travelled many a mile to satisfy their aching hearts.
+
+From a late hour of the evening before they had learnt nothing of her
+state; then a few words whispered by old Catty to those nearest the door
+told "that she was no better,--if anything, weaker!" These sad tidings
+were soon passed from lip to lip; and thus they spent the night, praying
+or watching wearily, their steadfast gaze directed towards that spot
+where the object of all their fears and hopes lay suffering.
+
+Of those there, there was scarcely one to whom she was not endeared by
+some personal benefit. She had aided this one in distress, the other she
+had nursed in fever; here were the old she had comforted and cheered,
+there the children she had taught and trained beside her chair. Her
+gentle voice yet vibrated in every heart, her ways of kindness were in
+every memory. Sickness and sorrow were familiar enough to themselves.
+Life was, at least to most of them, one long struggle; but they could
+not bring themselves to think of _her_ thus stricken down! She! that
+seemed an angel, as much above the casualties of such fortune as theirs
+as she was their superior in station,--that _she_ should be sick and
+suffering was too terrible to think of.
+
+There was a stir and movement in the multitude, a wavy, surging motion,
+for the doctor was seen to issue from the stable-yard, and lead his pony
+towards the bridge. He stopped to say a word or two as he went. They
+were sad words; and many a sobbing voice and many a tearful eye told
+what his tidings had been. "Sinking,--sinking rapidly!"
+
+A faint low cry burst from one in the crowd at this moment, and the
+rumor ran that a woman had fainted. It was poor Joan, who had come that
+night over the mountain, and, overcome by grief and exhaustion together,
+had at last given way.
+
+"Get a glass of wine for her, or even a cup of water," cried out three
+or four voices; and one nigh the door entered the cottage in search of
+aid. The moment after a tall and handsome girl forced her way through
+the crowd, and gave directions that Joan might be carried into the
+house.
+
+"Why did ye call her my Lady?" muttered an old hag to one of the men
+near her; "sure, she's Henderson's daughter!"
+
+"Is she, faith? By my conscience, then, she might be a better man's!
+She's as fine a crayture as ever I seen!"
+
+"If she has a purty face, she has a proud heart!" muttered another.
+
+"Ayeh! she'll never be like _her_ that's going to leave us!" sighed a
+young woman with a black ribbon in her cap.
+
+Meanwhile Kate had Joan assisted into the cottage, and was busily
+occupied in restoring her. Slowly, and with difficulty, the poor
+creature came to herself, and gazing wildly around, asked where she was;
+then suddenly bursting out in tears, she said,--"Sure, I know well where
+I am; sure, it's my own self, brought grief and sorrow under this roof.
+But for _me_ she 'd be well and hearty this day!"
+
+"Let us still hope," said Kate, softly. "Let us hope that one so dear
+to us all may be left here. You are better now. I 'll join you again
+presently." And with noiseless footsteps she stole up the stairs. As she
+came to the door, she halted and pressed her hands to her heart, as if
+in pain. There was a low murmuring sound, as if of voices, from within,
+and Kate turned away and sat down on the stairs.
+
+Within the sick-room a subdued light came, and a soft air, mild and
+balmy, for the rose-trees and the jessamine clustered over the window,
+and mingled their blossoms across it. Mary had just awoke from a
+short sleep, and lay with her hand clasped within that of a large and
+white-haired man at the bedside.
+
+"What a good, kind doctor!" said she, faintly; "I'm sure to find you
+ever beside me when I awake."
+
+"Oh, darlin', dear," broke in old Catty, "sure you ought to know who he
+is. Sure it 's your own--"
+
+"Hush! be silent!" muttered the old man, in a low, stern voice.
+
+"Is it Tuesday to-day?" asked Mary, softly.
+
+"Yes, dear, Tuesday," said the old man.
+
+"It was on Thursday my poor uncle died. Could I live till Thursday,
+doctor?"
+
+The old man tried to speak, but could not.
+
+"You are afraid to shock me," said she, with a faint attempt to smile,
+"but if you knew how happy I am,--happy even to leave a life I loved
+so well. It never could have been the same again, though--the spell was
+breaking, hardship and hunger were maddening them--who knows to what
+counsels they 'd have listened soon! Tell Harry to be kind to them,
+won't you? Tell him not to trust to others, but to know them himself; to
+go, as I have done, amongst them. They 'll love him _so_ for doing it.
+He is a man, young, rich, and high-hearted,--how they 'll dote upon him!
+Catty used to say it was my father they 'd have worshipped; but that was
+in flattery to me, Catty, you always said we were so like--"
+
+"Oh dear! oh dear! why won't you tell her?" broke in Catty. But a severe
+gesture from the old man again checked her words.
+
+"How that wild night at sea dwells in my thoughts! I never sleep but to
+dream of it. Cousin Harry must not forget those brave fellows. I
+have nothing to requite them with. I make no will, doctor," said she,
+smiling, "for my only legacy is that nosegay there. Will you keep it for
+my sake?"
+
+The old man hid his face, but his strong frame shook and quivered in the
+agony of the moment.
+
+"Hush!" said she, softly; "I hear voices without. Who are they?"
+
+"They're the country-people, darlin', come from Kiltimmon and beyond
+Kyle-a-Noe, to ax after you. They passed the night there, most of them."
+
+"Catty, dear, take care that you look after them; they will be hungry
+and famished, poor creatures! Oh, how unspeakably grateful to one's
+heart is this proof of feeling! Doctor, you will tell Harry how _I_
+loved _them_ and how _they_ loved _me_. Tell him, too, that this bond
+of affection is the safest and best of all ties. Tell him that their old
+love for a Martin still survives in their hearts, and it will be his
+own fault if he does not transmit it to his children. There's some one
+sobbing there without. Oh, bid them be of good heart, Catty; there is
+none who could go with less of loss to those behind. There--there come
+the great waves again before me! How my courage must have failed me to
+make this impression so deep! And poor Joan, and that dear fond girl
+who has been as a sister to me,--so full of gentleness and love,--Kate,
+where is she? No, do not call her; say that I asked for her--that I
+blessed her--and sent her this kiss!" She pressed a rose to her hot,
+parched lips as she spoke, and then closing her eyes seemed to fall off
+to sleep. Her breathing, at first strong and frequent, grew fainter and
+fainter, and her color came and went, while her lips slightly moved, and
+a low, soft murmur came from them.
+
+"She's asleep," muttered Catty, as she crouched down beside the bed.
+
+The old man bent over the bed, and watched the calm features. He sat
+thus long, for hours, but no change was there; he put his lips to hers,
+and then a sickly shuddering came over him, and a low, deep groan, that
+seemed to rend his very heart!
+
+Three days after, the great gateway of Cro' Martin Castle opened to
+admit a stately hearse drawn by six horses, all mournfully caparisoned,
+shaking with plumes and black-fringed drapery. Two mourning-coaches
+followed, and then the massive gates were closed, and the sad pageant
+wound its slow course through the demesne. At the same moment another
+funeral was approaching the churchyard by a different road. It was a
+coffin borne by men bareheaded and sorrow-struck. An immense multitude
+followed, of every rank and age; sobs and sighs broke from them as they
+went. Not an eye was tearless, not a lip that did not tremble. At the
+head of this procession walked a small group whose dress and bearing
+bespoke their class. These were Barry Martin, leaning on Repton;
+Massingbred and the two Nelligans came behind.
+
+The two coffins entered the churchyard at the same instant The uncle
+and the niece were laid side by side in the turf! The same sacred words
+consigned them both to their last bed; the same second of time heard the
+dank reverberation that pronounced "earth" had returned "to earth." A
+kind of reverential awe pervaded the immense crowd during the ceremony,
+and if here and there a sob would burst from some overburdened
+heart, all the rest were silent; respecting, with a deference of true
+refinement, a sorrow deeper and greater than their own, they never
+uttered a word, but with bent-down heads stole quietly away. And now
+by each grave the mourners stood, silently gazing on the little mounds
+which typify so much of human sorrow!
+
+Barry Martin's bronzed and weather-beaten features were a thought paler,
+perhaps. There was a dark shade of color round the eyes, but on the
+whole the expression conveyed far more of sternness than sorrow. Such,
+indeed, is no uncommon form for grief to take in certain natures. There
+are men who regard calamity like a foe, and go out to meet it in a
+spirit of haughty defiance. A poor philosophy! He who accepts it as
+chastisement is both a braver and a better man!
+
+Repton stood for a while beside him, not daring to interrupt his
+thoughts. At length he whispered a few words in his ear. Barry started
+suddenly, and his dark brow grew sterner and more resolute.
+
+"Yes, Martin, you must," said Repton, eagerly, "I insist upon it. Good
+heavens! is it at such a time, in such a place as this, you can harbor a
+thought that is not forgiveness? Remember he is poor Godfrey's son, the
+last of the race now." As he spoke, passing his arm within the other's,
+he drew him gently along, and led him to where a solitary mourner was
+standing beside the other grave.
+
+Barry Martin stood erect and motionless, while Repton spoke to the young
+man. At first the words seemed to confuse and puzzle him, for he
+looked vaguely around, and passed his hand across his brow in evident
+difficulty.
+
+"Did you say here, in this country? Do I understand you aright?"
+
+"Here, in this very spot; there, standing now before you!" said Repton,
+as he pushed young Martin towards his uncle.
+
+Barry held out his hand, which the young man grasped eagerly; and then,
+as if unable to resist his emotions longer, fell, sobbing violently,
+into the other's arms.
+
+"Let us leave them for a while," said Repton, hurrying over to where
+Massingbred and the Nelligans were yet standing in silent sorrow.
+
+They left the spot together without a word. Grief had its own part for
+each. It is not for us to say where sorrow eat deepest, or in which
+heart the desolation was most complete.
+
+"I'd not have known young Martin," whispered Nelligan in Repton's ear;
+"he looks full twelve years older than when last I saw him."
+
+"The fast men of this age, sir, live their youth rapidly," replied the
+other. "It is rarely their fortune to survive to be like me, or heaven
+knows what hearts they would be left with!"
+
+While they thus talked, Massingbred and Joe Nelligan had strolled away
+into the wood. Neither spoke. Massingbred felt the violent trembling
+of the other's arm as it rested on his own, and saw a gulping effort by
+which more than once he suppressed his rising emotion. For hours they
+thus loitered along, and at length, as they issued from the demesne,
+they found Repton and Mr. Nelligan awaiting them.
+
+"Barry Martin has taken his nephew back with him to the cottage," said
+Repton, "and we 'll not intrude upon them for the rest of the evening."
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXVIII. REPTON'S LAST CAUSE
+
+We have no right, as little have we the inclination, to inflict our
+reader with the details by which Barry Martin asserted and obtained his
+own. A suit in which young Martin assumed to be the defendant developed
+the whole history to the world, and proclaimed his title to the estate.
+It was a memorable case in many ways; it was the last brief Val Repton
+ever held. Never was his clear and searching intellect more conspicuous;
+never did he display more logical acuteness, nor trace out a difficult
+narrative with more easy perspicuity.
+
+"My Lords," said he, as he drew nigh the conclusion of his speech, "it
+would have been no ordinary satisfaction to me to close a long life of
+labor in these courts by an effort which restores to an ancient name the
+noble heritage it had held for centuries. I should have deemed such
+an occasion no unfitting close to a career not altogether void of its
+successes; but the event has still stronger claims upon my gratitude. It
+enables me in all the unembellished sternness of legal proof to display
+to an age little credulous of much affection the force of a brother's
+love,--the high-hearted devotion by which a man encountered a long life
+of poverty and privation, rather than disturb the peaceful possession of
+a brother.
+
+"Romance has its own way of treating such themes; but I do not
+believe romance can add one feature to the simple fact of this man's
+self-denial.
+
+"We should probably be lost in our speculations as to the noble motives
+of this sacrifice, if our attention was not called away to something
+infinitely finer and more exalted than even this. I mean the glorious
+life and martyr's death of her who has made a part of this case less
+like a legal investigation than the page of an affecting story. Story,
+do I say! Shame on the word! It is in truth and reality alone are such
+virtues inscribed. Fiction cannot deal with the humble materials that
+make up such an existence,--the long hours of watching by sickness; the
+weary care of teaching the young; the trying disappointments to hope
+bravely met by fresh efforts; the cheery encouragement drawn from a
+heart exhausting itself to supply others. Think of a young girl--a very
+child in the world's wisdom, more than a man in heroism and daring, with
+a heart made for every high ambition, and a station that might command
+the highest--calmly consenting to be the friend of destitution, the
+companion of misery, the daily associate of every wretchedness; devoting
+grace that might have adorned a court to shed happiness in a cabin,
+and making of beauty that would have shed lustre around a palace the
+sunshine that pierced the gloom of a peasant's misery! Picture to
+yourself the hand a prince might have knelt to kiss, holding the cup to
+the lips of fever; fancy the form whose elegance would have fascinated,
+crouched down beside the embers as she spoke words of consolation or
+hope to some bereaved mother or some desolate orphan!
+
+"These are not the scenes we are wont to look on here. Our cares are,
+unhappily, more with the wiles and snares of crafty men than with the
+sorrows and sufferings of the good! It is not often human nature wears
+its best colors in this place; the spirit of litigious contest little
+favors the virtues that are the best adornments of our kind. Thrice
+happy am I, then, that I end my day where a glorious sunset gilds
+its last hours; that I close my labors not in reprobating crime or
+stigmatizing baseness, but with a full heart, thanking God that my last
+words are an elegy over the grave of the best of The Martins of Cro'
+Martin.'"
+
+The inaccurate record from which we take these passages--for the only
+report of the trial is in a newspaper of the time--adds that the emotion
+of the speaker had so far pervaded the court that the conclusion was
+drowned in mingled expressions of applause and sorrow; and when Repton
+retired, he was followed by the whole bar, eagerly pressing to take
+their last farewell of its honored father.
+
+The same column of the paper mentions that Mr. Joseph Nelligan was to
+have made his first motion that day as Solicitor-General, but had left
+the court from a sudden indisposition, and the cause was consequently
+deferred.
+
+If Val Repton never again took his place in court, he did not entirely
+abdicate his functions. Barry Martin had determined on making a
+conveyance of the estate to his nephew, and the old lawyer was for
+several weeks busily employed in that duty. Although Merl's claim became
+extinguished when young Martin's right to the property was annulled,
+Barry Martin insisted on arrangements being made to repay him all that
+he had advanced,--a course which Repton, with some little hesitation, at
+last concurred in. He urged Barry to reserve a life-interest to himself
+in the property, representing the various duties which more properly
+would fall to his lot than to that of a young and inexperienced
+proprietor. But he would not hear of it.
+
+"He cannot abide the place," said Repton, when talking the matter over
+with Massingbred. "He is one of those men who never can forgive the
+locality where they have been miserable, nor the individual who has had
+a share in their sorrow. When he settles his account with Henderson,
+then he 'll leave the West forever."
+
+"And will he still leave Henderson in his charge?" asked Jack.
+
+"That is as it may be," said Repton, cautiously. "There is, as I
+understand, some very serious reckoning between them. It is the only
+subject on which Martin has kept mystery with me, and I do not like even
+to advert to it."
+
+Massingbred pondered long over these words, without being able to make
+anything of them.
+
+It might be that Henderson's conduct had involved him in some grave
+charge; and if so, Jack's own intentions with regard to the daughter
+would be burdened with fresh complications. "The steward" was bad
+enough; but if he turned out to be the "unjust steward"--"I 'll start
+for Galway to-night," thought he. "I 'll anticipate the discovery,
+whatever it be. She can no longer refuse to see me on the pretext of
+recent sorrow. It is now two months and more since this bereavement
+befell her. I can no longer combat this life of anxiety and doubt.--What
+can I do for you in the West, sir?" asked he of Repton, suddenly.
+
+"Many things, my young friend," said Repton, "if you will delay your
+departure two days, since they are matters on which I must instruct you
+personally."
+
+Massingbred gave a kind of half-consent, and the other went on to speak
+of the necessity for some nice diplomacy between the uncle and his
+nephew. "They know each other but little; they are on the verge of
+misunderstandings a dozen times a day. Benefits are, after all, but
+sorry ties between man and man. They may ratify the treaty of affection;
+they rarely inscribe the contract!"
+
+"Still Martin cannot but feel that to the noblest act of his uncle's
+generosity he is indebted for all he possesses."
+
+"Of course he knows, and he feels it; but who is to say whether that
+same consciousness is not a load too oppressive to bear. I know already
+Barry Martin's suggestions as to certain changes have not been well
+taken, and he is eager and pressing to leave Ireland, lest anything
+should disturb the concord, frail as it is, between them."
+
+"By Jove!" exclaimed Massingbred, passionately, "there is wonderfully
+little real good in this world; wonderfully little that can stand the
+test of the very basest of all motives,--mere gain."
+
+"Don't say so!" cried Repton. "Men have far better natures than you
+think; the fault lies in their tempers. Ay, sir, we are always entering
+into heavy recognizances with our passions, to do fifty things we never
+cared for. We have said this, we have heard the other; somebody sneered
+at that, and some one else agreed with him; and away we go, pitching all
+reason behind us, like an old shoe, and only seeking to gratify a whim,
+or a mere caprice, suggested by temper. Why do people maintain friendly
+intercourse at a distance for years, who could not pass twenty-four
+hours amicably under the same roof? Simply because it is their natures,
+and not their tempers, are in exercise."
+
+"I scarcely can separate the two in my mind," said Jack, doubtingly.
+
+"Can't you, sir? Why, nature is your skin, temper only your great-coat."
+And the old lawyer laughed heartily at his own conceit. "But here comes
+the postman."
+
+The double knock had scarcely reverberated through the spacious hall
+when the servant entered with a letter.
+
+"Ah! Barry Martin's hand. What have we here?" said Repton, as he ran his
+eyes over it. "So-so; just as I was saying this minute, only that Barry
+has the good sense to see it himself. 'My nephew,' he writes, 'has his
+own ideas on all these subjects, which are not mine; and as it is no
+part of my plan to hamper my gift with conditions that might impair its
+value, I mean to leave this at once.
+
+"'I have had my full share of calamity since I set foot in this land;
+and if this rugged old nature could be crushed by mere misfortune, the
+last two months might have done it. But no, Repton, the years by which
+we survive friends serve equally to make us survive affections, and we
+live on, untouched by time!
+
+"'I mean to be with you this evening. Let us dine alone together, for I
+have much to say to you.
+
+"' Yours ever,
+
+"'Barry Martin.
+
+"'I hope I may see Massingbred before I sail. I 'd like to shake hands
+with him once again. Say so to him, at all events.'"
+
+"Come in to-morrow to breakfast," said Repton; "by that time we'll have
+finished all mere business affairs." And Massingbred having assented,
+they parted.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXIX. TOWARDS THE END
+
+Repton was standing at his parlor window, anxiously awaiting his
+friend's arrival, when the chaise with four posters came to the door.
+"What have we here?" said the old lawyer to himself, as Barry assisted
+a lady dressed in deep mourning to alight, and hurried out to receive
+them.
+
+"I have not come alone, Repton," said the other. "I have brought my
+daughter with me." Before Repton could master his amazement at these
+words, she had thrown back her veil, revealing the well-known features
+of Kate Henderson.
+
+"Is this possible?--is this really the case?" cried Repton, as he
+grasped her hand between both his own. "Do I, indeed, see one I have so
+long regarded and admired, as the child of my old friend?"
+
+"Fate, that dealt me so many heavy blows of late, had a kindness in
+reserve for me, after all," said Barry. "I am not to be quite alone in
+this world!"
+
+"If _you_ be grateful, what ought not to be _my_ thankfulness?" said
+Kate, tremulously.
+
+"Leave us for a moment together, Kate," said Barry; and taking Repton's
+arm, he led him into an inner room.
+
+"I have met with many a sore cut from fortune, Repton," said he, in the
+fierce tone that was most natural to him; "the nearest and dearest to
+me not the last to treat me harshly. I need not tell you how I have been
+requited in life; not, indeed, that I seek to acquit myself of my own
+share of ill. My whole career has been a fault; it could not bring other
+fruit than misery." He paused, and for a while seemed laboring in strong
+emotion. At last he went on:--
+
+"When that girl was born--it was two years before I married--I intrusted
+the charge of her to Henderson, who placed her with a sister
+of his in Bruges. I made arrangements for her maintenance and
+education,--liberally for one as poor as I was. I made but one condition
+about her. It was that under no circumstances save actual want should
+she ever be reduced to earn her own bread; but if the sad hour did come,
+never--as had been her poor mothers fate--never as a governess! It was
+in that fearful struggle of condition I first knew her. I continued,
+year after year, to hear of her; remitting regularly the sums I
+promised,--doubling, tripling them, when fortune favored me with a
+chance prosperity. The letters spoke of her as well and happy, in humble
+but sufficient circumstances, equally remote from privation as from the
+seductions of a more exalted state. I insisted eagerly on my original
+condition, and hoped some day to hear of her being married to
+some honest but humble man. It was not often that I had time for
+self-reproach; but when such seasons would beset me, I thought of this
+girl, and her poor mother long dead and gone--But let me finish. While I
+struggled--and it was often a hard struggle--to maintain my side of the
+compact, selling at ruinous loss acquisitions it had cost me years of
+labor to obtain, this fellow, this Henderson, was basely betraying the
+trust I placed in him! The girl, for whose protection, whose safety
+I was toiling, was thrown by him into the very world for which I had
+distinctly excepted her; her talents, her accomplishments, her very
+graces, farmed out and hired for his own profit! Launched into the very
+sea where her own mother met shipwreck, she was a mere child, sent to
+thread her way through the perils of the most dissipated society. Hear
+her own account of it, Repton. Let _her_ tell you what is the tone of
+that high life to which foreign nobility imparts its fascinations. Not
+that I want to make invidious comparisons; our own country sends its
+high tributaries to every vice of Europe! I know not what accident saved
+her amidst this pollution. Some fancied theory of popular wrongs, she
+thinks, gave her a kind of factitious heroism; elevating her, at least
+to her own mind, above the frivolous corruptions around her. She was a
+democrat, to rescue her from being worse.
+
+"At last came a year of unusual pressure; my remittance was delayed, but
+when sent was never acknowledged. From that hour out I never heard of
+her. How she came into my brother's family, you yourself know. What was
+her life there, she has told me! Not in any spirit of complaint,--nay,
+she acknowledges to many kindnesses and much trust. Even my cold
+sister-in-law showed traits for which I had not given her credit. I have
+already forgotten her wrongs towards myself, in requital of her conduct
+to this poor girl."
+
+"I'll spare you the scene with Henderson, Repton," said he, after a long
+pause. "When the fellow told me that the girl was the same I had seen
+watching by another's sickbed, that she it was whose never-ceasing cares
+had soothed the last hours of one dearer than herself, I never gave
+another thought to him. I rushed out in search of her, to tell her
+myself the tidings."
+
+"How did she hear it?" asked Repton, eagerly.
+
+"More calmly than I could tell it. Her first words were, 'Thank God for
+this, for I never could love that man I had called my father!'"
+
+"She knows, then, every circumstance of her birth?"
+
+"I told her everything. We know each other as well as though we had
+lived under the same roof for years. She is my own child in every
+sentiment and feeling. She is frank and fearless, Repton,--two qualities
+that will do well enough in the wild savannahs of the New World, but
+would be unmanageable gifts in the Old, and thither we are bound. I have
+written to Liverpool about a ship, and we shall sail on Saturday."
+
+"How warmly do I sympathize in this your good fortune, Martin!" said
+Repton. "She is a noble creature, and worthy of belonging to you."
+
+"I ask for nothing more, Repton," said he, solemnly. "Fortune and
+station, such as they exist here, I have no mind for! I'm too old now
+to go to school about party tactics and politics; I'm too stubborn,
+besides, to yield up a single conviction for the sake of unity with a
+party,--so much for my unfitness for public life. As to private, I am
+rough and untrained; the forms of society so pleasant to others would be
+penalties to _me_. And then," said he, rising, and drawing up his figure
+to its full height, "I love the forest and the prairie; I glory in the
+vastness of a landscape where the earth seems boundless as the sky, and
+where, if I hunt down a buffalo-ox, after twenty miles of a chase,
+I have neither a game-law nor a gamekeeper nor a charge of trespass
+hanging over me."
+
+"There's some one knocking at the door," said Repton, as he arose and
+opened it.
+
+"A thousand pardons for this interruption," said Mas-singbred, in a low
+and eager voice, "but I cannot keep my promise to you; I cannot defer my
+journey to the West. I start to-night. Don't ask me the reasons. I 'll
+be free enough to give them if they justify me."
+
+"But here is one who wishes to shake hands with you, Massingbred," said
+Repton, as he led him forward into the room.
+
+"I hope you are going to keep your pledge with me, though," said Barry.
+"Have you forgotten you have promised to be my guest over the sea?"
+
+"Ah," said Jack, sighing, "I 've had many a day-dream of late!"
+
+"The man's in love," said Repton. "Nay, prisoner, you are not called on
+to say what may criminate you. I 'll tell you what, Barry, you 'll do
+the boy good service by taking him along with you. There 's a healthful
+sincerity in the active life of the New World well fitted to dispel
+illusions that take their rise in the indolent voluptuousness of the
+Old. Carry him off then, I say; accept no excuses nor apologies. Send
+him away to buy powder and shot, leather gaiters, and the rest of it.
+When I saw him first myself, it was in the character of a poacher, and
+he filled the part well. Ah! he is gone," added he, perceiving that
+Martin had just quitted the room. "Poor fellow, he is so full of his
+present happiness,--the first gleam of real sunshine on a long day of
+lowering gloom! He has just found a daughter,--an illegitimate one, but
+worthy to be the rightful-born child to the first man in the land. The
+discovery has carried him back twenty years of life, and freshened a
+heart whose wells of feeling were all but dried up forever. If I mistake
+not, you must have met her long ago at Cro' Martin."
+
+"Possibly. I have no recollection of it," said Jack, musing.
+
+"An ignoble confession, sir," said Repton; "no less shocked should I
+be were she to tell me she was uncertain if she had ever met Mr.
+Massingbred. As Burke once remarked to me, 'Active intelligences,
+like appropriate ingredients in chemistry, never meet without fresh
+combinations.' It is then a shame to ignore such products. I 'd swear
+that when you did meet you understood each other thoroughly; agreed
+well,--ay, and what is more to the purpose, differed in the right places
+too."
+
+"I'm certain we did," said Jack, smiling, "though I'm ungrateful enough
+to forget all about it."
+
+"Well," said Martin, entering, "I have sent for another advocate to
+plead my cause. My daughter will tell you, sir, that she, at least, is
+not afraid to encounter the uncivilized glens beside the Orinoco. Come
+in, Kate. You tell me that you and Mr. Massingbred are old friends."
+
+Massingbred started as he heard the name, looked up, and there stood
+Kate before him, with her hand extended in welcome.
+
+"Good heavens! what is this? Am I in a dream? Can this be real?" cried
+Jack, pressing his hands to his temples, and trembling from head to foot
+in the intensity of his anxiety.
+
+"My father tells me of an invitation he has given you, Mr. Massingbred,"
+said she, smiling faintly at his embarrassment, "and asks me to repeat
+it; but I know far better than he does all that you would surrender by
+exile from the great world wherein you are destined to eminence. The
+great debater, the witty conversationalist, the smart reviewer, might
+prove but a sorry trapper, and even a bad shot! I have my scruples,
+then, about supporting a cause where my conscience does not go along
+with me."
+
+"My head on't, but he 'll like the life well," said Barry, half
+impatiently.
+
+"Am I to think that you will not ask me to be your guest?" said Jack, in
+a whisper, only audible by Kate.
+
+"I have not said so," said she, in the same low tone. "Will you go
+further, Kate," muttered he, in tremulous eagerness, "and say, 'Come'?"
+"Yes!" said she. "Come!"
+
+[Illustration: 410]
+
+"I accept!" cried Jack, rushing over, and grasping Martin's hands
+between his own. "I 'm ready,--this hour, this instant, if you like it."
+
+"We find the prisoner guilty, my Lords," said Repton; "but we recommend
+him to mercy, as his manner on this occasion convinces us it is a first
+offence."
+
+We have now done with the Martins of Cro' Martin. Should any of our
+readers feel a curiosity as to the future fortunes of the estate, its
+story, like that of many another Irish property, is written in the
+Encumbered Estates Court. Captain Martin only grew wiser by the especial
+experience of one class of difficulties. His indolent, easy disposition
+and a taste for expense led him once again into embarrassments from
+which there was but one issue,--the sale of his property. He has still,
+however, a handsome subsistence remaining, and lives with Lady Dorothea,
+notable and somewhat distinguished residents of a city on the Continent.
+
+We cannot persuade ourselves that we have inspired interest for the
+humbler characters of our piece. Nor dare we ask the reader to hear
+more about Mrs. Cronan and her set, nor learn how Kilkieran fared in the
+changes around it.
+
+For Joseph Nelligan, however, we claim a parting word. He was the first
+of an order of men who have contributed no small share to the great
+social revolution of Ireland in late years. With talents fully equal
+to the best in the opposite scale of party, and a character above all
+reproach, he stood a rebuking witness to all the taunts and sarcasms
+once indiscriminately levelled at his class; and, at the same time,
+inspired his own party with the happy knowledge that there was a nobler
+and more legitimate road to eminence than by factious display and
+popular declamation.
+
+We do not wish to inquire how far the one great blow to his
+happiness--the disappointment of his early life--contributed to his
+success by concentrating his ambition on his career. Certain is it,
+no man achieved a higher or more rapid elevation, and old Dan lived
+to receive at his board the Chief Justice of the Queen's Bench in the
+person of his own son.
+
+Poor Simmy Crow! for if we would forget him, he has taken care that
+oblivion is not to be his fate. He has sent from the Rocky Mountains,
+where he is now wandering with Barry Martin, some sketches of Indian
+Life to the Irish Art Exhibition.
+
+If it be a pleasure to trace in our friends the traits we have admired
+in them in youth, and remark the embers of the fires that once wanned
+their hearts, Simmy affords us this gratification, since his drawings
+reveal the inspirations that first filled his early mind. The Chief
+in his war-paint has a fac-simile likeness to his St. John in the
+Wilderness; and as for the infant the squaw is bathing in the stream, we
+can produce twelve respectable witnesses to depose that it is "Moses."
+
+We are much tempted to add a word about the Exiles themselves, but
+we abstain. It is enough to say that all the attractive prospects of
+ambition held out by friends, all the seductions of generous offers from
+family, have never tempted them to return to the Old World; but that
+they live on happily, far away from the jarring collisions of life, the
+tranquil existence they had longed for.
+
+THE END.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Martins Of Cro' Martin, Vol. II
+(of II), by Charles James Lever
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+Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for
+eBook #35144 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/35144)
diff --git a/old/35144-h.htm.2021-01-25 b/old/35144-h.htm.2021-01-25
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+
+<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" lang="en">
+  <head>
+    <title>
+      The Martins of Cro' Martin, by Charles James Lever
+    </title>
+    <style type="text/css" xml:space="preserve">
+
+    body { margin:5%; text-align:justify}
+    P { text-indent: 1em; margin-top: .25em; margin-bottom: .25em; }
+    H1,H2,H3,H4,H5,H6 { text-align: center; margin-left: 15%; margin-right: 15%; }
+    hr  { width: 50%; text-align: center;}
+    .foot { margin-left: 20%; margin-right: 20%; text-align: justify; text-indent: -3em; font-size: 90%; }
+    blockquote {font-size: 97%; font-style: italic; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%;}
+    .mynote    {background-color: #DDE; color: #000; padding: .5em; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 95%;}
+    .toc       { margin-left: 10%; margin-bottom: .75em;}
+    .toc2      { margin-left: 20%;}
+    div.fig { display:block; margin:0 auto; text-align:center; }
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+    pre     { font-style: italic; font-size: 90%; margin-left: 10%;}
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+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+
+The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Martins Of Cro' Martin, Vol. II (of II), by
+Charles James Lever
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: The Martins Of Cro' Martin, Vol. II (of II)
+
+Author: Charles James Lever
+
+Illustrator: Phiz.
+
+Release Date: February 2, 2011 [EBook #35144]
+Last Updated: February 28, 2018
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: UTF-8
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE MARTINS OF CRO' MARTIN ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by David Widger
+
+
+
+
+
+</pre>
+
+<p>
+<br /><br />
+</p>
+<h1>
+THE MARTINS OF CRO' MARTIN
+</h1>
+<h2>
+By Charles James Lever
+</h2>
+<p>
+<br />
+</p>
+<h3>
+With Illustrations By Phiz.
+</h3>
+<p>
+<br /><br />
+</p>
+<h4>
+In Two Volumes
+</h4>
+<h3>
+Vol. II.
+</h3>
+<p>
+<br /><br />
+</p>
+<h4>
+Boston: Little, Brown, And Company.
+</h4>
+<h4>
+1906
+</h4>
+<p>
+<br /> <br />
+</p>
+<hr />
+<p>
+<br /> <br /> <br />
+</p>
+<div class="fig" style="width:80%;">
+<img alt="frontispiece (178K)" src="images/frontispiece.jpg" width="100%" />
+</div>
+<p>
+<br /> <br />
+</p>
+<div class="fig" style="width:80%;">
+<img alt="titelpage (24K)" src="images/titelpage.jpg" width="100%" />
+</div>
+<p>
+<br />
+</p>
+<blockquote>
+<p class="toc">
+<big><b>CONTENTS</b></big>
+</p>
+<p>
+<br /> <b><a href="#link2H_4_0001"> THE MARTINS OF CRO' MARTIN. </a></b><br />
+<br /> <a href="#link2HCH0001"> CHAPTER I. </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;MR. HERMAN
+MERL <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0002"> CHAPTER II. </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;MR.
+MERL <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0003"> CHAPTER III. </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;A
+YOUNG DUCHESS AND AN OLD FRIEND <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0004">
+CHAPTER IV. </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;A VERY GREAT FAVOR <br /><br /> <a
+href="#link2HCH0005"> CHAPTER V. </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;A LETTER FROM HOME
+<br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0006"> CHAPTER VI. </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;MR.
+MERL'S DEPARTURE <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0007"> CHAPTER VII. </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;THE
+CLUB <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0008"> CHAPTER VIII. </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;AN
+EVENING OF ONE OP THE &ldquo;THREE DAYS&rdquo; <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0009">
+CHAPTER IX. </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;SOME CONFESSIONS OF JACK MASSINGBRED <br /><br />
+<a href="#link2HCH0010"> CHAPTER X. </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;HOW ROGUES AGREE!
+<br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0011"> CHAPTER XI. </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;MR. MERL
+&ldquo;AT FENCE&rdquo; <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0012"> CHAPTER XII. </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;MR.
+MERL'S MEDITATIONS <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0013"> CHAPTER XIII.
+</a>&nbsp;&nbsp;A NIGHT OF STORM <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0014">
+CHAPTER XIV. </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;THE END OF A BAR MESS <br /><br /> <a
+href="#link2HCH0015"> CHAPTER XV. </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;A FIRST BRIEF <br /><br />
+<a href="#link2HCH0016"> CHAPTER XVI. </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;MR. REPTON LOOKS
+IN <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0017"> CHAPTER XVII. </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;LADY
+DOROTHEA'S LETTER <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0018"> CHAPTER XVIII.
+</a>&nbsp;&nbsp;MR. MERL'S EXPERIENCES IN THE WEST <br /><br /> <a
+href="#link2HCH0019"> CHAPTER XIX. </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;MR. MERL'S &ldquo;LAST&rdquo;
+ IRISH IMPRESSION <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0020"> CHAPTER XX. </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;SOMETHING
+NOT EXACTLY FLIRTATION <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0021"> CHAPTER XXI.
+</a>&nbsp;&nbsp;LADY DOROTHEA <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0022">
+CHAPTER XXII. </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;HOW PRIDE MEETS PRIDE <br /><br /> <a
+href="#link2HCH0023"> CHAPTER XXIII. </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;MAURICE SCANLAN
+ADVISES WITH &ldquo;HIS COUNSEL&rdquo; <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0024"> CHAPTER
+XXIV. </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;A CONSULTATION <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0025">
+CHAPTER XXV. </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;A COMPROMISE <br /><br /> <a
+href="#link2HCH0026"> CHAPTER XXVI. </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;A LETTER THAT NEVER
+REACHES ITS ADDRESS <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0027"> CHAPTER XXVII.
+</a>&nbsp;&nbsp;A VERY BRIEF INTERVIEW <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0028">
+CHAPTER XXVIII. </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;THE DARK SIDE OF A CHARACTER <br /><br />
+<a href="#link2HCH0029"> CHAPTER XXIX. </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;THE COTTAGE <br /><br />
+<a href="#link2HCH0030"> CHAPTER XXX. </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;"A TEA-PARTY&rdquo; AT
+MRS. CRONAN'S <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0031"> CHAPTER XXXI. </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;THE
+BRANNOCK ISLANDS <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0032"> CHAPTER XXXII. </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;LETTER
+FROM MASSINGBRED <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0033"> CHAPTER XXXIII.
+</a>&nbsp;&nbsp;A DINNER AT &ldquo;THE LODGE&rdquo; <br /><br /> <a
+href="#link2HCH0034"> CHAPTER XXXIV. </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;AN HONORED GUEST
+<br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0035"> CHAPTER XXXV. </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;HOW
+DIPLOMACY FAILED <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0036"> CHAPTER XXXVI. </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;A
+GREAT DISCOVERY <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0037"> CHAPTER XXXVII. </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;A
+DARK DAY <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0038"> CHAPTER XXXVIII. &nbsp;</a>&nbsp;&nbsp;REPTON'S
+LAST CAUSE <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0039"> CHAPTER XXXIX. </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;TOWARDS
+THE END <br /><br />
+</p>
+</blockquote>
+<p>
+<br /> <br />
+</p>
+<hr />
+<p>
+<br /> <br /> <a name="link2H_4_0001" id="link2H_4_0001">
+<!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+</p>
+<div style="height: 4em;">
+<br /><br /><br /><br />
+</div>
+<h1>
+THE MARTINS OF CRO' MARTIN.
+</h1>
+<p>
+<a name="link2HCH0001" id="link2HCH0001">
+<!--  H2 anchor --> </a> <br /><br />
+</p>
+<h2>
+CHAPTER I. MR. HERMAN MERL
+</h2>
+<p>
+This much-abused world of ours, railed at by divines, sneered down by
+cynics, slighted by philosophers, has still some marvellously pleasant
+things about it, amongst which, first and foremost, <i>facile princeps</i>,
+is Paris! In every other city of Europe there is a life to be learned and
+acquired just like a new language. You have to gain the acquaintance of
+certain people, obtain admission to certain houses, submit yourself to
+ways, habits, hours, all peculiar to the locality, and conform to usages
+in which&mdash;at first, at least&mdash;you rarely find anything beyond
+penalties on your time and your patience. But Paris demands no such
+sacrifices. To enjoy it, no apprenticeship is required. You become free of
+the guild at the Porte St. Denis. By the time you reach the Boulevards you
+have ceased to be a stranger. You enter the &ldquo;Frères&rdquo; at dinner hour like
+an old habitué. The atmosphere of light, elastic gayety around you, the
+tone of charming politeness that meets your commonest inquiry, the
+courtesy bestowed upon your character as a foreigner, are all as
+exhilarating in their own way as your sparkling glass of Moët, sipped in
+the window, from which you look down on plashing fountains, laughing
+children, and dark-eyed grisettes! The whole thing, in its bustle and
+movement, its splendor, sunlight, gilded furniture, mirrors, and smart
+toilettes, is a piece of natural magic, with this difference,&mdash;that
+its effect is ever new, ever surprising!
+</p>
+<p>
+Sad and sorrowful faces are, of course, to be met with, since grief has
+its portion everywhere; but that air of languid indifference, that look of
+wearied endurance, which we characterize by the classic term of &ldquo;boredom,&rdquo;
+ is, indeed, a rare spectacle in this capital; and yet now at the window of
+a splendid apartment in the Place Vendôme, listlessly looking down into
+the square beneath, stood a young man, every line of whose features
+conveyed this same expression. He had, although not really above
+twenty-four or twenty-five, the appearance of one ten years older. On a
+face of singular regularity, and decidedly handsome, dissipation had left
+its indelible traces. The eyes were deep sunk, the cheeks colorless, and
+around the angles of the mouth were those tell-tale circles which betray
+the action of an oft-tried temper, and the spirit that has gone through
+many a hard conflict. In figure he was very tall, and seemed more so in
+the folds of a long dressing-gown of antique brocade, which reached to his
+feet; a small, dark green skull-cap, with a heavy silver tassel, covered
+one side of his head, and in his hand he held a handsome meerschaum,
+which, half mechanically, he placed from time to time to his lips,
+although its bowl was empty.
+</p>
+<p>
+At a breakfast-table covered with all that could provoke appetite, sat a
+figure as much unlike him as could be. He was under the middle size, and
+slightly inclined to flesh, with a face which, but for some strange
+resemblance to what one has seen in pictures by the older artists, would
+have been unequivocally vulgar. The eyes were small, keen, and furtive;
+the nose, slightly concave in its outline, expanded beneath into nostrils
+wide and full; but the mouth, thick-lipped, sensual, and coarse, was more
+distinctive than all, and showed that Mr. Herman Merl was a gentleman of
+the Jewish persuasion,&mdash;a fact well corroborated by the splendor of a
+very flashy silk waistcoat, and various studs, gold chain, rings, and
+trinkets profusely scattered over his costume. And yet there was little of
+what we commonly recognize as the Jew in the character of his face. The
+eyes were not dark, the nose not aquiline; the hair, indeed, had the wavy
+massiveness of the Hebrew race; but Mr. Merl was a &ldquo;Red Jew,&rdquo; and the Red
+Jew, like the red partridge, is a species <i>per se</i>.
+</p>
+<p>
+<a name="linkimage-0001" id="linkimage-0001">
+<!-- IMG --></a>
+</p>
+<div class="fig" style="width:80%;">
+<img src="images/018.jpg" width="100%" alt="018 " />
+</div>
+<p>
+There was an ostentatious pretension in the &ldquo;get up&rdquo; of this gentleman.
+His moustache, his beard, his wrist-buttons, his shirt-studs, the camellia
+in his coat,&mdash;all, even to the heels of his boots, had been made
+studies, either to correct a natural defect, or show off what he fancied a
+natural advantage. He seemed to have studied color like a painter, for his
+dark brown frock was in true keeping with the tint of his skin; and yet,
+despite these painstaking efforts, the man was indelibly, hopelessly
+vulgar. Everything about him was imitation, but it was imitation that only
+displayed its own shortcomings.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I wonder how you can resist these oysters, Captain,&rdquo; said he, as he
+daintily adjusted one of these delicacies on his fork; &ldquo;and the Chablis, I
+assure you, is excellent.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I never eat breakfast,&rdquo; said the other, turning away from the window, and
+pacing the room with slow and measured tread.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Why, you are forgetting all the speculations that used to amuse us on the
+voyage,&mdash;the delicious little dinners we were to enjoy at the
+'Rocher,' the tempting dejeuners at 'Véfour's.' By Jove! how hungry you
+used to make me, with your descriptions of the appetizing fare before us;
+and here we have it now: Ardennes ham, fried in champagne; Ostend oysters,
+salmi of quails with truffles&mdash;and such truffles! Won't that tempt
+you?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+But his friend paid no attention to the appeal, and walking again to the
+window, looked out.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Those little drummers yonder have a busy day of it,&rdquo; said he, lazily;
+&ldquo;that's the fourth time they have had to beat the salute to Generals this
+morning.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Is there anything going on, then?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+But he never deigned an answer, and resumed his walk.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I wish you'd send away that hissing teakettle, it reminds me of a
+steamboat,&rdquo; said the Captain, peevishly; &ldquo;that is, if you have done with
+it.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;So it does,&rdquo; said the other, rising to ring the bell; &ldquo;there's the same
+discordant noise, and the&mdash;the&mdash;the&mdash;&rdquo; But the rest of the
+similitude would n't come, and Mr. Merl covered his retreat with the
+process of lighting a cigar,&mdash;an invaluable expedient that had served
+to aid many a more ready debater in like difficulty.
+</p>
+<p>
+It would be a somewhat tedious, perhaps not a very profitable task, to
+inquire how two men, so palpably dissimilar, had thus become what the
+world calls friends. Enough if we say that Captain Martin,&mdash;the heir
+of Cro' Martin,&mdash;when returning from India on leave, passed some time
+at the Cape, where, in the not very select society of the place, he met
+Mr. Merl. Now Mr. Merl had been at Ceylon, where he had something to do
+with a coffee plantation; and he had been at Benares, where opium
+interested him; and now again, at the Cape, a question of wine had
+probably some relation to his sojourn. In fact, he was a man travelling
+about the world with abundance of leisure, a well-stocked purse, and what
+our friends over the Strait would term an &ldquo;industrial spirit.&rdquo; Messes had
+occasionally invited him to their tables. Men in society got the habit of
+seeing him &ldquo;about,&rdquo; and he was in the enjoyment of that kind of tolerance
+which made every man feel, &ldquo;He's not <i>my</i> friend,&mdash;<i>I</i>
+didn't introduce him; but he seems a good sort of fellow enough!&rdquo; And so
+he was,&mdash;very good-tempered, very obliging, most liberal of his
+cigars, his lodgings always open to loungers, with pale ale, and even iced
+champagne, to be had |for asking. There was play, too; and although Merl
+was a considerable winner, he managed never to incur the jealous enmity
+that winning so often imposes. He was the most courteous of gamblers; he
+never did a sharp thing; never enforced a strict rule upon a novice of the
+game; tolerated every imaginable blunder of his partner with bland
+equanimity; and, in a word, if this great globe of ours had been a
+green-baize cloth, and all the men and women whist-players, Mr. Herman
+Merl had been the first gentleman in it, and carried off &ldquo;all the honors&rdquo;
+ in his own hand.
+</p>
+<p>
+If he was highly skilled in every game, it was remarked of him that he
+never proposed play himself, nor was he ever known to make a wager: he
+always waited to be asked to make up a party, or to take or give the odds,
+as the case might be. To a very shrewd observer, this might have savored a
+little too much of a system; but shrewd observers are, after all, not the
+current coin in the society of young men, and Merl's conduct was eminently
+successful.
+</p>
+<p>
+Merl suited Martin admirably. Martin was that species of man which, of all
+others, is most assailable by flattery. A man of small accomplishments, he
+sang a little, rode a little, played, drew, fenced, fished, shot&mdash;all,
+a little&mdash;that is, somewhat better than others in general, and giving
+him that dangerous kind of pre-eminence from which, though the tumble
+never kills, it occurs often enough to bruise and humiliate. But, worse
+than this, it shrouds its possessor in a triple mail of vanity, that makes
+him the easy prey of all who minister to it.
+</p>
+<p>
+We seldom consider how much locality influences our intimacies, and how
+impossible it had been for us even to know in some places the people we
+have made friends of in another. Harry Martin would as soon have thought
+of proposing his valet at &ldquo;Brookes's,&rdquo; as walk down Bond Street with Mr.
+Merl. Had he met him in London, every characteristic of the man would
+there have stood out in all the strong glare of contrast, but at the Cape
+it was different. Criticism would have been misplaced where all was
+irregular, and the hundred little traits&mdash;any one of which would have
+shocked him in England&mdash;were only smiled at as the eccentricities of
+a &ldquo;good-natured poor fellow, who had no harm in him.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Martin and Merl came to England in the same ship. It was a sudden thought
+of Merl's, only conceived the evening before she sailed; but Martin had
+lost a considerable sum at piquet to him on that night, and when signing
+the acceptances for payment, since he had not the ready money, somewhat
+peevishly remarked that it was hard he should not have his revenge.
+Whereupon Merl, tossing off a bumper of champagne, and appearing to speak
+under the influence of its stimulation, cried out, &ldquo;Hang me, Captain, if
+you shall say that! I 'll go and take my passage in the 'Elphinstone.'&rdquo;
+ And he did so, and he gave the Captain his revenge! But of all the
+passions, there is not one less profitable to indulge in. They played
+morning, noon, and night, through long days of sickening calm, through
+dreary nights of storm and hurricane, and they scarcely lifted their heads
+at the tidings that the Needles were in sight, nor even questioned the
+pilot for news of England, when he boarded them in the Downs. Martin had
+grown much older during that same voyage; his temper, too, usually imbued
+with the easy indolence of his father's nature, had grown impatient and
+fretful. A galling sense of inferiority to Merl poisoned every minute of
+his life. He would not admit it; he rejected it, but back it came; and if
+it did not enter into his heart, it stood there knocking,&mdash;knocking
+for admission. Each time they sat down to play was a perfect duel to
+Martin.
+</p>
+<p>
+As for Merl, his well-schooled faculties never were ruffled nor excited.
+The game had no power to fascinate <i>him</i>, its vicissitudes had
+nothing new or surprising to him; intervals of ill-luck, days even of
+dubious fortune might occur, but he knew he would win in the end, just as
+he knew that though there might intervene periods of bad weather and
+adverse winds, the good ship &ldquo;Elphinstone&rdquo; would arrive at last, and, a
+day sooner or a day later, discharge passengers and freight on the banks
+of the Thames.
+</p>
+<p>
+You may forgive the man who has rivalled you in love, the banker whose
+&ldquo;smash&rdquo; has engulfed all your fortune, the violent political antagonist
+who has assailed you personally, and in the House, perhaps, answered the
+best speech you ever made by a withering reply. You may extend feelings of
+Christian charity to the reviewer who has &ldquo;slashed&rdquo; your new novel, the
+lawyer whose vindictive eloquence has exposed, the artist in &ldquo;Punch&rdquo; who
+has immortalized, you; but there is one man you never forgive, of whom you
+will never believe one good thing, and to whom you would wish a thousand
+evil ones,&mdash;he is your natural enemy, brought into the world to be
+your bane, born that he may be your tormentor; and this is the man who <i>always</i>
+beats you at play! Happily, good reader, you may have no feelings of the
+gambler,&mdash;you may be of those to whom this fatal vice has never
+appealed, or appealed in vain; but if you <i>have</i> &ldquo;played,&rdquo; or even
+mixed with those who have, you could n't have failed to be struck with the
+fact that there is that one certain man from whom you never win! Wherever
+he is, there, too, is present your evil destiny! Now, there is no
+pardoning this,&mdash;the double injury of insult to your skill and damage
+to your pocket. Such a man as this becomes at last your master. You may
+sneer at his manners, scoff at his abilities, ridicule his dress, laugh at
+his vulgarity,&mdash;poor reprisals these! In his presence, the sense of
+that one superiority he possesses over you makes you quail! In the stern
+conflict, where your destiny and your capacity seem alike at issue, he
+conquers you,&mdash;not to-day or to-morrow, but ever and always! There he
+sits, arbiter of your fate,&mdash;only doubtful how long he may defer the
+day of your sentence!
+</p>
+<p>
+It is something in the vague indistinctness of this power&mdash;something
+that seems to typify the agency of the Evil One himself&mdash;that at once
+tortures and subdues you; and you ever hurry into fresh conflict with the
+ever-present consciousness of fresh defeat! We might have spared our
+reader this discursive essay, but that it pertains to our story. Such was
+the precise feeling entertained by Martin towards Merl. He hated him with
+all the concentration of his great hatred, and yet he could not
+disembarrass himself of his presence. He was ashamed of the man amongst
+his friends; he avoided him in all public places; he shrunk from his very
+contact as though infected; but he could not throw off his acquaintance,
+and he nourished in his heart a small ember of hope that one day or other
+the scale of fortune would turn, and he might win back again all he had
+ever lost, and stand free and unembarrassed as in the first hour he had
+met him! Fifty times had he consulted Fortune, as it were, to ask if this
+moment had yet arrived; but hitherto ever unsuccessfully,&mdash;Merl won
+on as before. Martin, however, invariably ceased playing when he
+discovered that his ill-luck continued. It was an experiment,&mdash;a mere
+pilot balloon to Destiny; and when he saw the direction adverse, he did
+not adventure on the grand ascent. It was impossible that a man of Merl's
+temperament and training should not have detected this game. There was not
+a phase of the gambler's mind with which he was not thoroughly familiar.
+</p>
+<p>
+Close intimacies, popularly called friendships, have always their secret
+motive, if we be but skilful enough to detect it. We see people associate
+together of widely different habits, and dispositions the most opposite,
+with nothing in common of station, rank, object, or pursuit. In such cases
+the riddle has always its key, could we only find it.
+</p>
+<p>
+Mr. Martin had been some weeks in Paris with his family, when a brief note
+informed him that Merl had arrived there. He despatched an answer still
+briefer, asking him to breakfast on the following morning; and it was in
+the acceptance of this same invitation we have now seen him.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Who's here just now?&rdquo; said Merl, throwing down his napkin, and pushing
+his chair a little back from the table, while he disposed his short, fat
+legs into what he fancied was a most graceful attitude.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Here? Do you mean in Paris?&rdquo; rejoined Martin, pettishly,&mdash;for he
+never suffered so painfully under this man's intimacy as when his manners
+assumed the pretension of fashion.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yes,&mdash;of course,&mdash;I mean, who's in Paris?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;There are, I believe, about forty-odd thousand of our countrymen and
+countrywomen,&rdquo; said the other, half contemptuously.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Oh, I've no doubt; but my question took narrower bounds. I meant, who of
+<i>our</i> set,&mdash;who of us?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Martin turned round, and fixing his eyes on him, scanned him from head to
+foot with a gaze of such intense insolence as no words could have
+equalled. For a while the Jew bore it admirably; but these efforts, after
+all, are only like the brief intervals a man can live under water, and
+where the initiated beats the inexperienced only by a matter of seconds.
+As Martin continued his stare, Merl's cheek tingled, grew red, and finally
+his whole face and forehead became scarlet.
+</p>
+<p>
+With an instinct like that of a surgeon who feels he has gone deep enough
+with his knife, Martin resumed his walk along the room without uttering a
+word.
+</p>
+<p>
+Merl opened the newspaper, and affected to read; his hand, however,
+trembled, and his eyes wandered listlessly over the columns, and then
+furtively were turned towards Martin as he paced the chamber in silence.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Do you think you can manage that little matter for me, Captain?&rdquo; said he
+at last, and in a voice attuned to its very humblest key.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;What little matter? Those two bills do you mean?&rdquo; said Martin, suddenly.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Not at all. I 'm not the least pressed for cash. I alluded to the Club;
+you promised you 'd put me up, and get one of your popular friends to
+second me.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I remember,&rdquo; said Martin, evidently relieved from a momentary terror.
+&ldquo;Lord Claude Willoughby or Sir Spencer Cavendish would be the men if we
+could find them.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Lord Claude, I perceive, is here; the paper mentions his name in the
+dinner company at the Embassy yesterday.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Do you know him?&rdquo; asked Martin, with an air of innocence that Merl well
+comprehended as insult.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;No. We 've met,&mdash;I think we 've played together; I remember once at
+Baden&mdash;&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Lord Claude Willoughby, sir,&rdquo; said a servant, entering with a card,
+&ldquo;desires to know if you 're at home?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And won't be denied if you are not,&rdquo; said his Lordship, entering at the
+same instant, and saluting Martin with great cordiality.
+</p>
+<p>
+<a name="link2HCH0002" id="link2HCH0002">
+<!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+</p>
+<div style="height: 4em;">
+<br /><br /><br /><br />
+</div>
+<h2>
+CHAPTER II. MR. MERL
+</h2>
+<p>
+The French have invented a slang word for a quality that deserves a more
+recognized epithet, and by the expression <i>chic</i> have designated a
+certain property by which objects assert their undoubted superiority over
+all their counterfeits. Thus, your coat from Nugee's, your carriage from
+Leader's, your bracelet from Storr's, and your bonnet from Madame Palmyre,
+have all their own peculiar <i>chic</i>, or, in other words, possess a
+certain invisible, indescribable essence that stamps them as the best of
+their kind, with an excellence unattainable by imitation, and a charm all
+their own!
+</p>
+<p>
+Of all the products in which this magical property insinuates itself,
+there is not one to which it contributes so much as the man of fashion. He
+is the very type of <i>chic</i>. To describe him you are driven to a
+catalogue of negatives, and you only arrive at anything like a resemblance
+by an enumeration of the different things he is not.
+</p>
+<p>
+The gentleman who presented himself to Martin at the close of our last
+chapter was in many respects a good specimen of his order. He had entered
+the room, believing Martin to be there alone; but no sooner had he
+perceived another, and that other one not known to him, than all the
+buoyant gayety of his manner was suddenly toned down into a quiet
+seriousness; while, taking his friend's arm, he said in a low voice,&mdash;&ldquo;If
+you 're busy, my dear Martin, don't hesitate for a moment about sending me
+off; I had not the slightest suspicion there was any one with you.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Nor is there,&rdquo; said Martin, with a supercilious glance at Merl, who was
+endeavoring in a dozen unsuccessful ways to seem unaware of the new
+arrival's presence.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I want to introduce him to you,&rdquo; said Martin.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;No, no, my dear friend, on no account.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I must; there's no help for it,&rdquo; said Martin, impatiently, while he
+whispered something eagerly in the other's ear.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Well, then, some other day; another time&mdash;&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Here and now, Claude,&rdquo; said Martin, peremptorily; while, without waiting
+for reply, he said aloud, &ldquo;Merl, I wish to present you to Lord Claude
+Willoughby,&mdash;Lord Claude, Mr. Herman Merl.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Merl bowed and smirked and writhed as his Lordship, with a bland smile and
+a very slight bow, acknowledged the presentation.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Had the pleasure of meeting your Lordship at Baden two summers ago,&rdquo; said
+the Jew, with an air meant to be the ideal of fashionable ease.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I was at Baden at the time you mention,&rdquo; said he, coldly.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I used to watch your Lordship's game with great attention; you won
+heavily, I think?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I don't remember, just now,&rdquo; said he, carelessly; not, indeed, that such
+was the fact, or that he desired it should be thought so; he only wished
+to mark his sense of what he deemed an impertinence.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;The man who can win at rouge-et-noir can do anything, in my opinion,&rdquo;
+ said Merl.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;What odds are you taking on Rufus?&rdquo; said Martin to Willoughby, and
+without paying the slightest attention to Merl's remark.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Eleven to one; but I'll not take it again. Hecuba is rising hourly, and
+some say she 'll be the favorite yet.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Is Rufus your Lordship's horse?&rdquo; said the Jew, insinuatingly.
+</p>
+<p>
+Willoughby bowed, and continued to write in his note-book.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And you said the betting was eleven to one on the field, my Lord?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;It ought to be fourteen to one, at least.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I 'll give you fourteen to one, my Lord, just for the sake of a little
+interest in the race.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Willoughby ceased writing, and looked at him steadfastly for a second or
+two. &ldquo;I have not said that the odds were fourteen to one.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I understand you perfectly, my Lord; you merely thought that they would
+be, or, at least, ought to be.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Merl wants a bet with you, in fact,&rdquo; said Martin, as he applied alight to
+his meerschaum; &ldquo;and if you won't have him, I will.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;What shall it be, sir,&rdquo; said Lord Claude, pencil in hand; &ldquo;in ponies&mdash;fifties?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Oh, ponies, my Lord. I only meant it, just as I said, to give me
+something to care for in the race.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Will you put him up at the 'Cercle' after that?&rdquo; whispered Martin, with a
+look of sly malice.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I'll tell you when the match is over,&rdquo; said Willoughby, laughing; &ldquo;but if
+I won't, here 's one that will. That's a neat phaeton of Cavendish's.&rdquo; And
+at the same instant Martin opened the window, and made a signal with his
+handkerchief.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;That's the thing for <i>you</i>, Merl,&rdquo; said Martin, pointing down to a
+splendid pair of dark chestnuts harnessed to a handsome phaeton. &ldquo;It's
+worth five hundred pounds to any fellow starting an equipage to chance
+upon one of Cavendish's. He has not only such consummate taste in carriage
+and harness, but he makes his nags perfection.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;He drives very neatly,&rdquo; said Willoughby.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;What was it he gave for that near-side horse?&mdash;a thousand pounds, I
+think.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Twelve hundred and fifty, and refused a hundred for my bargain,&rdquo; said a
+very diminutive, shrewd-looking man of about five-and-thirty, who entered
+the room with great affectation of juvenility. &ldquo;I bought him for a cab,
+never expecting to 'see his like again,' as Shakspeare says.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And you offered the whole concern yesterday to Damre-mont for fifty
+thousand francs?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;No, Harry, that's a mistake. I said I 'd play him a match at piquet,
+whether he gave seventy thousand for the equipage or nothing. It was he
+that proposed fifty thousand. Mine was a handsome offer, I think.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I call it a most munificent one,&rdquo; said Martin. &ldquo;By the way, you don't
+know my friend here, Mr. Merl, Sir Spencer Cavendish.&rdquo; And the baronet
+stuck his glass in his eye, and scanned the stranger as unscrupulously as
+though he were a hack at Tattersairs.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Where did he dig him up, Claude?&rdquo; whispered he, after a second.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;In India, I fancy; or at the Cape.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;That fellow has something to do with the hell in St. James's Street; I
+'ll swear I know his face.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+<a name="linkimage-0002" id="linkimage-0002">
+<!-- IMG --></a>
+</p>
+<div class="fig" style="width:80%;">
+<img src="images/029.jpg" width="100%" alt="029 " />
+</div>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I 've been telling Merl that he 's in rare luck to find such a turn-out
+as that in the market; that is, if you still are disposed to sell.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Oh, yes, I'll sell it; give him the tiger, boots, cockade, and all,&mdash;everything
+except that Skye terrier. You shall have the whole, sir, for two thousand
+pounds; or, if you prefer it&mdash;&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+A certain warning look from Lord Claude suddenly arrested his words, and
+he added, after a moment,&mdash;&ldquo;But I 'd rather sell it off, and think no
+more of it.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Try the nags; Sir Spencer, I'm sure, will have no objection,&rdquo; said
+Martin. But the baronet's face looked anything but concurrence with the
+proposal.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Take them a turn round the Bois de Boulogne, Merl,&rdquo; said Martin, laughing
+at his friend's distress.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And he may have the turn-out at his own price after the trial,&rdquo; muttered
+Lord Claude, with a quiet smile.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Egad! I should think so,&rdquo; whispered Cavendish; &ldquo;for, assuredly, I should
+never think of being seen in it again.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;If Sir Spencer Cavendish has no objection,&mdash;if he would permit his
+groom to drive me just down the Boulevards and the Rue Rivoli&mdash;&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+The cool stare of the baronet did not permit him to finish. It was really
+a look far more intelligible than common observers might have imagined,
+for it conveyed something like recognition,&mdash;a faint approach to an
+intimation that said, &ldquo;I 'm persuaded that we have met before.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yes, that is the best plan. Let the groom have the ribbons,&rdquo; said Martin,
+laughing with an almost schoolboy enjoyment of a trick. &ldquo;And don't lose
+time, Merl, for Sir Spencer would n't miss his drive in the Champs Elysees
+for any consideration.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Gentlemen, I am your very humble and much obliged servant!&rdquo; said
+Cavendish, as soon as Merl had quitted the room. &ldquo;If that distinguished
+friend of yours should not buy my carriage&mdash;&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;But he will,&rdquo; broke in Martin; &ldquo;he must buy it.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;He ought, I think,&rdquo; said Lord Claude. &ldquo;If I were in his place, there's
+only one condition I 'd stipulate for.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And that is&mdash;&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;That you should drive with him one day&mdash;one would be enough&mdash;from
+the Barrière de l'Étoile to the Louvre.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;This is all very amusing, gentlemen, most entertaining,&rdquo; said Cavendish,
+tartly; &ldquo;but who is he?&mdash;I don''t mean that,&mdash;but what is he?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Martin's banker, I fancy,&rdquo; said Lord Claude.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Does he lend any sum from five hundred to twenty thousand on equitable
+terms on approved personal security?&rdquo; said Cavendish, imitating the terms
+of the advertisements.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;He 'll allow all he wins from you to remain in your hands at sixty per
+cent interest, if he doesn't want cash!&rdquo; said Martin, angrily.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Oh, then, I 'm right. It is my little Moses of St. James's Street. He was
+n't always as flourishing as we see him now. Oh dear, if any man, three
+years back, had told me that this fellow would have proposed seating
+himself in my phaeton for a drive round Paris, I don't believe&mdash;nay,
+I 'm sure&mdash;my head couldn't have stood it.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You know him, then?&rdquo; said Willoughby.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I should think every man about town a dozen years ago must know him.
+There was a kind of brood of these fellows; we used to call them Joseph
+and his brethren. One sold cigars, another vended maraschino; this
+discounted your bills, that took your plate or your horses&mdash;ay, or
+your wardrobe&mdash;on a bill of sale, and handed you over two hundred
+pounds to lose at his brother's hell in the evening. Most useful
+scoundrels they were,&mdash;equally expert on 'Change and in the Coulisses
+of the Opera!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I will say this for him,&rdquo; said Martin, &ldquo;he 's not a hard fellow to deal
+with; he does not drive a bargain ungenerously.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Your hangman is the tenderest fellow in the world,&rdquo; said Cavendish, &ldquo;till
+the final moment. It's only in adjusting the last turn under the ear that
+he shows himself 'ungenerous.'&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Are you deep with him, Harry?&rdquo; said Willoughby, who saw a sudden paleness
+come over Martin's face.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Too deep!&rdquo; said he, with a bitter effort at a laugh,&mdash;&ldquo;a great deal
+too deep.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;We 're all too deep with those fellows,&rdquo; said Cavendish, as, stretching
+out his legs, he contemplated the shape and lustre of his admirably
+fitting boots. &ldquo;One begins by some trumpery loan or so; thence you go on
+to a play transaction or a betting-book with them, and you end&mdash;egad,
+you end by having the fellow at dinner!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Martin wants his friend to be put up for the Club,&rdquo; said Willoughby.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Eh, what? At the 'Cercle,' do you mean?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Why not? Is it so very select?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;No, not exactly that; there are the due proportions of odd reputations,
+half reputations, and no reputations; but remember, Martin, that however
+black they be now, they all began white. When they started, at least, they
+were gentlemen.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I suspect that does not make the case much better.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;No; but it makes <i>ours</i> better, in associating with them. Come,
+come, you know as well as any one that this is impossible, and that if you
+should do it to-day, I should follow the lead to-morrow, and our Club
+become only an asylum for unpayable tailors and unappeasable bootmakers!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You go too fast, sir,&rdquo; exclaimed Martin, in a tone of anger. &ldquo;I never
+intended to pay my debts by a white ball in the ballot-box, nor do I think
+that Mr. Merl would relinquish his claim on some thousand pounds, even for
+the honor of being the club colleague of Sir Spencer Cavendish.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Then I know him better,&rdquo; said the other, tapping his-boot with his cane;
+&ldquo;he would, and he 'd think it a right good bargain besides. From seeing
+these fellows at racecourses and betting-rooms, always cold, calm, and
+impassive, never depressed by ill-luck, as little elated by good, we fall
+into the mistake of esteeming them as a kind of philosophers in life,
+without any of those detracting influences that make you and Willoughby,
+and even myself, sometimes rash and headstrong. It is a mistake, though;
+they have a weakness,&mdash;and a terrible weakness,&mdash;which is, their
+passion to be thought in fashionable society. Yes, they can't resist that!
+All their shrewd calculations, all their artful schemes, dissolve into
+thin air, at the bare prospect of being recognized 'in society.' I have
+studied this flaw in them for many a year back. I 'll not say I haven't
+derived advantage from it.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And yet you 'd refuse him admission into a club,&rdquo; cried Martin.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Certainly. A club is a Democracy, where each man, once elected, is the
+equal of his neighbor. Society is, on the other hand, an absolute
+monarchy, where your rank flows from the fountain of honor,&mdash;the
+host. Take him along with you to her Grace's 'tea,' or my Lady's reception
+this evening, and see if the manner of the mistress of the house does not
+assign him his place, as certainly as if he were marshalled to it by a
+lackey. All his mock tranquillity and assumed ease of manner will not be
+proof against the icy dignity of a grande dame; but in the Club he's as
+good as the best, or he'll think so, which comes to the same thing.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Cavendish is right,&mdash;that is, as much so as he can be in anything,&rdquo;
+ said Willoughby, laughing. &ldquo;Don't put him up, Martin.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Then what am I to do? I have given a sort of a pledge. He is not easily
+put off; he does not lightly relinquish an object.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Take him off the scent. Introduce him at the Embassy. Take him to the
+Courcelles.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;This is intolerable,&rdquo; broke in Martin, angrily. &ldquo;I ask for advice, and
+you reply by a sneer and a mockery.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Not at all. I never was more serious. But here he comes! Look only how
+the fellow lolls back in the phaeton. Just see how contemptuously he looks
+down on the foot-travellers. I'd lay on another hundred for that stare;
+for, assuredly, he has already made the purchase in his own mind.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Well, Merl, what do you say to Sir Spencer's taste in horseflesh?&rdquo; said
+Martin, as he entered.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;They 're nice hacks; very smart.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Nice hacks!&rdquo; broke in Cavendish, &ldquo;why, sir, they're both thoroughbred;
+the near horse is by Tiger out of a Crescent mare, and the off one won the
+Acton steeple-chase. When you said hacks, therefore, you made a cruel
+blunder.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Well, it's what a friend of mine called them just now,&rdquo; said Merl; &ldquo;and
+remarked, moreover, that the large horse had been slightly fired on the&mdash;the&mdash;I
+forget the name he gave it.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You probably remember your friend's name better,&rdquo; said Cavendish,
+sneeringly. &ldquo;Who was he, pray?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Massingbred,&mdash;we call him Jack Massingbred; he's the Member for
+somewhere in Ireland.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Poor Jack!&rdquo; muttered Cavendish, &ldquo;how hard up he must be!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;But you like the equipage, Merl?&rdquo; said Martin, who had a secret suspicion
+that it was now Cavendish's turn for a little humiliation.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Well, it's neat. The buggy&mdash;&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;The buggy! By Jove, sir, you have a precious choice of epithets! Please
+to let me inform you that full-blooded horses are not called hacks, nor
+one of Leader's park-phaetons is not styled a buggy.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Martin threw himself into a chair, and after a moment's struggle, burst
+out into a fit of laughter.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I think we may make a deal after all, Sir Spencer,&rdquo; said Merl, who
+accepted the baronet's correction with admirable self-control.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;No, sir; perfectly impossible; take my word for it, any transaction would
+be difficult between us. Good-bye, Martin; adieu, Claude.&rdquo; And with this
+brief leave-taking the peppery Sir Spencer left the room, more flushed and
+fussy than he had entered it.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;If you knew Sir Spencer Cavendish as long as we have known him, Mr.
+Merl,&rdquo; said Lord Claude, in his blandest of voices, &ldquo;you'd not be
+surprised at this little display of warmth. It is the only weakness in a
+very excellent fellow.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I 'm hot, too, my Lord,&rdquo; said Merl, with the very slightest accentuation
+of the &ldquo;initial H,&rdquo; &ldquo;and he was right in saying that dealings would be
+difficult between us.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You mentioned Massingbred awhile ago, Merl. Why not ask him to second you
+at the Club?&rdquo; said Martin, rousing himself suddenly from a train of
+thought.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Well, somehow, I thought that he and you did n't exactly pull together;
+that there was an election contest,&mdash;a kind of a squabble.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I 'm sure that <i>he</i> never gave you any reason to suspect a coldness
+between us; I know that <i>I</i> never did,&rdquo; said Martin, calmly. &ldquo;We are
+but slightly acquainted, it is true, but I should be surprised to learn
+that there was any ill-feeling between us.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;One's opponent at the hustings is pretty much the same thing as one's
+adversary at a game,&mdash;he is against you to-day, and may be your
+partner to-morrow; so that, putting even better motives aside, it were bad
+policy to treat him as an implacable enemy,&rdquo; said Lord Claude, with his
+accustomed suavity. &ldquo;Besides, Mr. Merl, you know the crafty maxim of the
+French moralist, 'Always treat your enemies as though one day they were to
+become your friends.'&rdquo; And with this commonplace, uttered in a tone and
+with a manner that gave it all the semblance of a piece of special advice,
+his Lordship took his hat, and, squeezing Martin's hand, moved towards the
+door.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Come in here for a moment,&rdquo; said Martin, pushing open the door into an
+adjoining dressing-room, and closing it carefully after them. &ldquo;So much for
+wanting to do a good-natured thing,&rdquo; cried he, peevishly. &ldquo;I thought to
+help Cavendish to get rid of those 'screws,' and the return he makes me is
+to outrage this man.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;What are your dealings with him?&rdquo; asked Willoughby» anxiously.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Play matters, play debts, loans, securities, post-obits, and every other
+blessed contrivance you can think of to swamp a man's present fortune and
+future prospects. I don't think he is a bad fellow; I mean, I don't
+suspect he 'd press heavily upon me, with any fair treatment on my part.
+My impression, in short, is that he'd forgive my not meeting his bill, but
+he 'd never get over my not inviting him to a dinner!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Well,&rdquo; said Willoughby, encouragingly, &ldquo;we live in admirable times for
+such practices. There used to be a vulgar prejudice in favor of men that
+one knew, and names that the world was familiar with. It is gone by
+entirely; and if you only present your friend&mdash;don't wince at the
+title&mdash;your friend, I say&mdash;as the rich Mr. Merl, the man who
+owns shares in mines, canals, and collieries, whose speculations count by
+tens of thousands, and whose credit rises to millions, you'll never be
+called on to apologize for his parts of speech, or make excuse for his
+solecisms in good breeding.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Will you put up his name, then, at the Club?&rdquo; asked Martin, eagerly. &ldquo;It
+would not do for <i>me</i> to do so.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;To be sure I will, and Massingbred shall be his seconder.&rdquo; And with this
+cheering pledge Lord Claude bade him good-bye, and left him free to return
+to Mr. Merl in the drawing-room. That gentleman had, however, already
+departed, to the no small astonishment of Martin, who now threw himself
+lazily down on a sofa, to ponder over his difficulties and weave all
+manner of impracticable schemes to meet them.
+</p>
+<p>
+They were, indeed, very considerable embarrassments. He had raised heavy
+sums at most exorbitant rates, and obtained money&mdash;for the play-table&mdash;by
+pledging valuable reversions of various kinds, for Merl somehow was the
+easiest of all people to deal with; one might have fancied that he lent
+his money only to afford himself an occasion of sympathy with the
+borrower, just as he professed that he merely betted &ldquo;to have a little
+interest in the race.&rdquo; Whatever Martin, then, suggested in the way of
+security never came amiss; whether it were a farm, a mill, a quarry, or a
+lead mine, he accepted it at once, and, as Martin deemed, without the
+slightest knowledge or investigation, little suspecting that there was not
+a detail of his estate, nor a resource of his property, with which the
+wily Jew was not more familiar than himself. In fact, Mr. Merl was an
+astonishing instance of knowledge on every subject by which money was to
+be made, and he no more advanced loans upon an encumbered estate than he
+backed the wrong horse or bid for a copied picture. There is a species of
+practical information excessively difficult to describe, which is not
+connoisseurship, but which supplies the place of that quality, enabling
+him who possesses it to estimate the value of an object, without any
+admixture of those weakening prejudices which beset your mere man of
+taste. Now, Mr. Merl had no caprices about the color of the horse he
+backed, no more than for the winning seat at cards; he could not be warped
+from his true interests by any passing whim, and whether he cheapened a
+Correggio or discounted a bill, he was the same calm, dispassionate
+calculator of the profit to come of the transaction.
+</p>
+<p>
+Latterly, however, he had thrown out a hint to Martin that he was curious
+to see some of that property on which he had made such large advances; and
+this wish&mdash;which, according to the frame of mind he happened to be in
+at the moment, struck Martin as a mere caprice or a direct menace&mdash;was
+now the object of his gloomy reveries. We have not tracked his steps
+through the tortuous windings of his moneyed difficulties; it is a chapter
+in life wherein there is wonderfully little new to record; the Jew-lender
+and his associates, the renewed bill and the sixty per cent, the
+non-restored acceptances flitting about the world, sold and resold as
+damaged articles, but always in the end falling into the hands of a &ldquo;most
+respectable party,&rdquo; and proceeded on as a true debt; then, the compromises
+for time, for silence, for secrecy,&mdash;since these transactions are
+rarely, if ever, devoid of some unhappy incident that would not bear
+publicity; and there are invariably little notes beginning &ldquo;Dear Moses,&rdquo;
+ which would argue most ill-chosen intimacies. These are all old stories,
+and the &ldquo;Times&rdquo; and the &ldquo;Chronicle&rdquo; are full of them. There is a terrible
+sameness about them, too. The dupe and the villain are stock characters
+that never change, and the incidents are precisely alike in every case.
+Humble folk, who are too low for fashionable follies, wonder how the
+self-same artifices have always the same success, and cannot conceal their
+astonishment at the innocence of our young men about town; and yet the
+mystery is easily solved. The dupe is, in these cases, just as
+unprincipled as his betrayer, and their negotiation is simply a game of
+skill, in which Israel is not always the winner.
+</p>
+<p>
+If we have not followed Martin's steps through these dreary labyrinths, it
+is because the path is a worn one; for the same reason, too, we decline to
+keep him company in his ponderings over them. All that his troubles had
+taught him was an humble imitation of the tricky natures of those he dealt
+with; so that he plotted and schemed and contrived, till his very head
+grew weary with the labor. And so we leave him.
+</p>
+<p>
+<a name="link2HCH0003" id="link2HCH0003">
+<!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+</p>
+<div style="height: 4em;">
+<br /><br /><br /><br />
+</div>
+<h2>
+CHAPTER III. A YOUNG DUCHESS AND AN OLD FRIEND
+</h2>
+<p>
+Like a vast number of people who have passed years in retirement, Lady
+Dorothea was marvellously disappointed with &ldquo;the world&rdquo; when she went back
+to it. It was not at all the kind of thing she remembered, or at least
+fancied it to be. There were not the old gradations of class strictly
+defined; there was not the old veneration for rank and station; &ldquo;society&rdquo;
+ was invaded by hosts of unknown people, &ldquo;names one had never heard of.&rdquo;
+ The great stars of fashion of her own day had long since set, and the new
+celebrities had never as much as heard of her. The great houses of the
+Faubourg were there, it is true; but with reduced households and dimly
+lighted salons, they were but sorry representatives of the splendor her
+memory had invested them with.
+</p>
+<p>
+Now the Martins were installed in one of the finest apartments of the
+finest quarter in Paris. They were people of unquestionable station, they
+had ample means, lacked for none of the advantages which the world demands
+from those who seek its favors; and yet there they were, just as unknown,
+unvisited, and unsought after, as if they were the Joneses or the Smiths,
+&ldquo;out&rdquo; for a month's pleasuring on the Continent.
+</p>
+<p>
+A solitary invitation to the Embassy to dinner was not followed by any
+other attention; and so they drove along the Boulevards and through the
+Bois de Boulogne, and saw some thousands of gay, bright-costumed people,
+all eager for pleasure, all hurrying on to some scheme of amusement or
+enjoyment, while they returned moodily to their handsome quarter, as much
+excluded from all participation in what went on around them as though they
+were natives of Hayti.
+</p>
+<p>
+Martin sauntered down to the reading-room, hoping vainly to fall in with
+some one he knew. He lounged listlessly along the bright streets, till
+their very glare addled him; he stared at the thousand new inventions of
+luxury and ease the world had discovered since he had last seen it, and
+then he plodded gloomily homeward, to dine and listen to her Ladyship's
+discontented criticism upon the tiresome place and the odious people who
+filled it. Paris was, indeed, a deception and a snare to them! So far from
+finding it cheap, the expense of living&mdash;as they lived&mdash;was
+considerably greater than at London. It was a city abounding in luxuries,
+but all costly. The details which are in England reserved for days of
+parade and display, were here daily habits, and these were now to be
+indulged in with all the gloom of solitude and isolation.
+</p>
+<p>
+What wonder, then, if her Ladyship's temper was ruffled, and her
+equanimity unbalanced by such disappointments? In vain she perused the
+list of arrivals to find out some distinguished acquaintance; in vain she
+interrogated her son as to what was going on, and who were there. The
+Captain only frequented the club, and could best chronicle the names that
+were great at whist or illustrious at billiards.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;It surely cannot be the season here,&rdquo; cried she, one morning, peevishly,
+&ldquo;for really there isn't a single person one has ever heard of at Paris.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And yet this is a strong catalogue,&rdquo; cried the Captain, with a malicious
+twinkle in his eye. &ldquo;Here are two columns of somebodies, who were present
+at Madame de Luygnes' last night.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You can always fill salons, if that be all,&rdquo; said she, angrily.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yes, but not with Tour du Pins, Tavannes, Rochefoucaulds, Howards of
+Maiden, and Greys of Allington, besides such folk as Pahlen, Lichtenstein,
+Colonna, and so forth.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;How is it then, that one never sees them?&rdquo; cried she, more eagerly.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Say, rather, how is it one doesn't know them,&rdquo; cried Martin, &ldquo;for here we
+are seven weeks, and, except to that gorgeous fellow in the cocked hat at
+the porter's lodge, I have never exchanged a salute with a human being.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;There are just three houses, they say, in all Paris, to one or other of
+which one must be presented,&rdquo; said the Captain&mdash;&ldquo;Madame de Luygnes,
+the Duchesse de Cour-celles, and Madame de Mirecourt.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;That Madame de Luygnes was your old mistress, was she not, Miss
+Henderson?&rdquo; asked Lady Dorothea, haughtily.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yes, my Lady,&rdquo; was the calm reply.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And who are these other people?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;The Duc de Mirecourt was married to 'Mademoiselle,' the daughter of the
+Duchesse de Luygnes.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Have you heard or seen anything of them since you came here?&rdquo; asked her
+Ladyship.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;No, my Lady, except a hurried salute yesterday from a carriage as we
+drove in. I just caught sight of the Duchesse as she waved her hand to
+me.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Oh, I saw it. I returned the salutation, never suspecting it was meant
+for <i>you</i>. And she was your companion&mdash;your dear friend&mdash;long
+ago?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yes, my Lady,&rdquo; said Kate, bending down over her work, but showing in the
+crimson flush that spread over her neck how the speech had touched her.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And you used to correspond, I think?&rdquo; continued her Ladyship.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;We did so, my Lady.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And she dropped it, of course, when she married,&mdash;she had other
+things to think of?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I 'm afraid, my Lady, the lapse was on <i>my</i> side,&rdquo; said Kate,
+scarcely repressing a smile at her own hardihood.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;<i>Your</i> side! Do you mean to say that you so far forgot what was due
+to the station of the Duchesse de Mirecourt, that you left her letter
+unreplied to?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Not exactly, my Lady.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Then, pray, what do you mean?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Kate paused for a second or two, and then, in a very calm and collected
+voice, replied,&mdash;&ldquo;I told the Duchesse, in my last letter, that I
+should write no more,&mdash;that my life was thrown in a wild,
+unfrequented region, where no incident broke the monotony, and that were I
+to continue our correspondence, my letters must degenerate into a mere
+selfish record of my own sentiments, as unprofitable to read as ungraceful
+to write; and so I said good-bye&mdash;or <i>au revoir</i>, at least&mdash;till
+other scenes might suggest other thoughts.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;A most complimentary character of our Land of the West, certainly! I
+really was not aware before that Cro' Martin was regarded as an
+'oubliette.'&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Kate made no answer,&mdash;a silence which seemed rather to irritate than
+appease her Ladyship.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I hope you included the family in your dreary picture. I trust it was not
+a mere piece of what artists call still life, Miss Henderson?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;No, my Lady,&rdquo; said she, with a deep sigh; but the tone and manner of the
+rejoinder were anything but apologetic.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Now I call that as well done as anything one sees in Hyde Park,&rdquo; cried
+the Captain, directing attention as he spoke to a very handsome chariot
+which had just driven up to the door. &ldquo;They're inquiring for somebody
+here,&rdquo; continued he, as he watched the Chasseur as he came and went from
+the carriage to the house.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;There's a Grandee of Spain, or something of that kind, lives on the
+fourth floor, I think,&rdquo; said Martin, dryly.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;The Duchesse de Mirecourt, my Lady,&rdquo; said a servant, entering, &ldquo;begs to
+know if your Ladyship will receive her?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Kate started at the words, and her color rose till her cheeks were
+crimsoned.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;A visit, I suspect, rather for you than me, Miss Henderson,&rdquo; said Lady
+Dorothea, in a half-whisper; and then turning to her servant, nodded her
+acquiescence.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I 'm off,&rdquo; said Martin, rising suddenly to make his escape.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And I too,&rdquo; said the Captain, as he made his exit by an opposite door.
+</p>
+<p>
+The folding-doors of the apartment were at the same moment thrown wide,
+and the Duchess entered. Very young,&mdash;almost girlish, indeed,&mdash;she
+combined in her appearance the charming freshness of youth with that
+perfection of gracefulness which attaches to the higher classes of French
+society, and although handsome, more striking from the fascination of
+manner than for any traits of beauty. Courtesying slightly, but
+deferentially, to Lady Dorothea, she apologized for her intrusion by the
+circumstance of having, the day before, caught sight of her &ldquo;dear
+governess and dear friend&mdash;&rdquo; And as she reached thus far, the
+deep-drawn breathing of another attracted her. She turned and saw Kate,
+who, pale as a statue, stood leaning on a chair. In an instant she was in
+her arms, exclaiming, in a rapture of delight, &ldquo;My dear, dear Kate,&mdash;my
+more than sister! You would forgive me, madam,&rdquo; said she, addressing Lady
+Dorothea, &ldquo;if you but knew what we were to each other. Is it not so,
+Kate?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+A faint tremulous motion of the lips&mdash;all colorless as they were&mdash;was
+the only reply to the speech; but the young Frenchwoman needed none, but
+turning to her Ladyship, poured forth with native volubility a story of
+their friendship, the graceful language in which she uttered it lending
+those choice phrases which never seem exaggerations of sentiment till they
+be translated into other tongues. Mingling her praises with half
+reproaches, she drew a picture of Kate so flattering that Lady Dorothea
+could not help a sense of shrinking terror that one should speak in such
+terms of the governess.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And now, dearest,&rdquo; added she, turning to Kate, &ldquo;are we to see a great
+deal of each other? When can you come to me? Pardon me, madam, this
+question should be addressed to you.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Miss Henderson is my secretary, Madame la Duchesse; she is also my
+companion,&rdquo; said Lady Dorothea, haughtily; &ldquo;but I can acknowledge claims
+which take date before my own. She shall be always at liberty when you
+wish for her.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;How kind, how good of you!&rdquo; cried the Duchess. &ldquo;I could have been certain
+of that. I knew that my dear Kate must be loved by all around her. We have
+a little <i>fête</i> on Wednesday at St. Germain. May I bespeak her for
+that day?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Her Ladyship suffers her generosity to trench upon her too far,&rdquo; said
+Kate, in a low voice. &ldquo;I am in a manner necessary to her,&mdash;that is,
+my absence would be inconvenient.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;But her Ladyship will doubtless be in the world herself that evening.
+There is a ball at the Duchesse de Sargance, and the Austrian Minister has
+something,&rdquo; rattled on the lively Duchess. &ldquo;Paris is so gay just now, so
+full of pleasant people, and all so eager for enjoyment. Don't you find it
+so, my Lady?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I go but little into society!&rdquo; said Lady Dorothea, stiffly.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;How strange! and I&mdash;I cannot live without it. Even when we go to our
+Château at Roche-Mire I carry away with me all my friends who will consent
+to come. We try to imitate that delightful life of your country houses,
+and make up that great family party which is the <i>beau idéal</i> of
+social enjoyment.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And you like a country life, then?&rdquo; asked her Ladyship.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;To be sure. I love the excursions on horseback, the forest drives, the
+evening walks in the trellised vines, the parties one makes to see a
+thousand things one never looks at afterwards; the little dinners on the
+grass, with all their disasters, and the moonlight drive homewards, half
+joyous, half romantic,&mdash;not to speak of that charming frankness by
+which every one makes confession of his besetting weakness, and each has
+some little secret episode of his own life to tell the others. All but
+Kate here,&rdquo; cried she, laughingly, &ldquo;who never revealed anything.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Madame la Duchesse will, I 'm sure, excuse my absence; she has doubtless
+many things she would like to say to her friend alone,&rdquo; said Lady
+Dorothea, rising and courtesying formally; and the young Duchess returned
+the salutation with equal courtesy and respect.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;My dear, dear Kate,&rdquo; cried she, throwing her arms around her as the door
+closed after her Ladyship, &ldquo;how I have longed for this moment, to tell you
+ten thousand things about myself and hear from you as many more! And
+first, dearest, are you happy? for you look more serious, more thoughtful
+than you used,&mdash;and paler, too.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Am I so?&rdquo; asked Kate, faintly.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yes. When you're not speaking, your brows grow stern and your lips
+compressed. Your features have not that dear repose, as Giorgevo used to
+call it. Poor fellow! how much in love he was, and you 've never asked for
+him!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I never thought of him!&rdquo; said she, with a smile.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Nor of Florian, Kate!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Nor even of him.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+<a name="linkimage-0003" id="linkimage-0003">
+<!-- IMG --></a>
+</p>
+<div class="fig" style="width:80%;">
+<img src="images/044.jpg" width="100%" alt="044 " />
+</div>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And yet that poor fellow was really in love,&mdash;nay, don't laugh,
+Kate, I know it. He gave up his career, everything he had in life,&mdash;he
+was a Secretary of Legation, with good prospects,&mdash;all to win your
+favor, becoming a 'Carbonaro,' or a 'Montagnard,' or something or other
+that swears to annihilate all kings and extirpate monarchy.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And after that?&rdquo; asked Kate, with more of interest.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;After that, ma chère, they sent him to the galleys; I forget exactly
+where, but I think it was in Sicily. And then there was that Hungarian
+Count Nemescz, that wanted to kill somebody who picked up your bouquet out
+of the Grand Canal at Venice.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And whom, strangely enough, I met and made acquaintance with in Ireland.
+His name is Massingbred.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Not the celebrity, surely,&mdash;the young politician who made such a
+sensation by a first speech in Parliament t'other day? He's all the rage
+here. Could it be him?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Possibly enough,&rdquo; said she, carelessly. &ldquo;He had very good abilities, and
+knew it.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;He comes to us occasionally, but I scarcely have any acquaintance with
+him. But this is not telling me of yourself, child. Who and what are these
+people you are living with? Do they value my dear Kate as they ought? Are
+they worthy of having her amongst them?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I 'm afraid not,&rdquo; said Kate, with a smile. &ldquo;They do not seem at all
+impressed with the blessing they enjoy, and only treat me as one of
+themselves.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;But, seriously, child, are they as kind as they should be? That old lady
+is, to my thinking, as austere as an Archduchess.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I like her,&rdquo; said Kate; &ldquo;that is, I like her cold, reserved manner,
+unbending as it is, which only demands the quiet duties of servitude, and
+neither asks nor wishes for affection. She admits me to no friendship, but
+she exacts no attachment.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And you like this?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I did not say I should like it from <i>you!</i> said Kate, pressing the
+hand she held fervently to her lips, while her pale cheek grew faintly
+red.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And you go into the world with her,&mdash;at least <i>her</i> world?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;She has none here. Too haughty for second-rate society, and unknown to
+those who form the first class at Paris, she never goes out.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;But she would&mdash;she would like to do so?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I 'm sure she would.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Then mamma shall visit her. You know she is everything here; her house is
+the rendezvous of all the distinguished people, and, once seen in her
+salons, my Lady&mdash;how do you call her?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Lady Dorothea Martin.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I can't repeat it&mdash;but no matter&mdash;her Ladyship shall not want
+for attentions. Perhaps she would condescend to come to me on Wednesday?
+Dare I venture to ask her?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Kate hesitated, and the Duchess quickly rejoined,&mdash;&ldquo;No, dearest, you
+are quite right; it would be hazardous, too abrupt, too unceremonious. You
+will, however, be with us; and I long to present you to all my friends,
+and show them one to whom I owe so much, and ought to be indebted to for
+far more. I 'll send for you early, that we may have a long morning
+together.&rdquo; And so saying, she arose to take leave.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I feel as though I 'll scarcely believe I had seen you when you have
+gone,&rdquo; said Kate, earnestly. &ldquo;I'll fancy it all a dream&mdash;or rather,
+that my life since we met has been one, and that we had never parted.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Were we not very happy then, Kate?&rdquo; said the Duchess, with a half-sigh;
+&ldquo;happier, perhaps, than we may ever be again.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;<i>You</i> must not say so, at all events,&rdquo; said Kate, once more
+embracing her. And they parted.
+</p>
+<p>
+Kate arose and watched the splendid equipage as it drove away, and then
+slowly returned to her place at the work-table. She did not, however,
+resume her embroidery, but sat deep in reflection, with her hands clasped
+before her.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Poor fellow!&rdquo; said she, at length, &ldquo;a galley-slave, and Massingbred a
+celebrity! So much for honesty and truth in this good world of ours! Can
+it always go on thus? That is the question I'm curious to hear solved. A
+little time may, perhaps, reveal it!&rdquo; So saying to herself, she leaned her
+head upon her hand, deep lost in thought.
+</p>
+<p>
+<a name="link2HCH0004" id="link2HCH0004">
+<!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+</p>
+<div style="height: 4em;">
+<br /><br /><br /><br />
+</div>
+<h2>
+CHAPTER IV. A VERY GREAT FAVOR
+</h2>
+<p>
+Amongst the embarrassments of story-telling there is one which, to be
+appreciated, must have been experienced; it is, however, sufficiently
+intelligible to claim sympathy even by indicating,&mdash;we mean the
+difficulty a narrator has in the choice of those incidents by which his
+tale is to be marked out, and the characters who fill it adequately
+depicted.
+</p>
+<p>
+It is quite clear that a great number of events must occur in the story of
+every life of which no record can be made; some seem too trivial, some too
+irrelevant for mention, and yet, when we come to reflect upon real life
+itself, how many times do we discover that what appeared to be but the
+veriest trifles were the mainsprings of an entire existence, and the
+incidents which we deemed irrelevant were the hidden links that connected
+a whole chain of events? How easy, then, to err in the selection! This
+difficulty presents itself strongly to us at present; a vast number of
+circumstances rise before us from which we must refrain, lest they should
+appear to indicate a road we are not about to travel; and, at the same
+time, we feel the want of those very events to reconcile what may well
+seem contradictions in our history.
+</p>
+<p>
+It not unfrequently happens that an apology is just as tiresome as the
+offence it should excuse; and so, without further explanation, we proceed.
+Lady Dorothea soon found herself as much sought after as she had
+previously been neglected. The Duchesse de Luygnes was the great leader of
+fashion at Paris; and the marked attentions by which she distinguished her
+Ladyship at once established her position. Of course her unquestionable
+claim to station, and her own high connections rendered the task less
+difficult; while it imparted to Lady Dorothea's own manner and bearing
+that degree of dignity and calm which never accompany an insecure
+elevation.
+</p>
+<p>
+With such refinement of delicacy, such exquisite tact, was every step
+managed that her Ladyship was left to suppose every attention she received
+sprung out of her own undeniable right to them, and to the grace and charm
+of a manner which really had had its share of success some five-and-thirty
+years before. The gloomy isolation she had passed through gave a stronger
+contrast to the enjoyment of her present life; and for the first time for
+years she regained some of that courtly elegance of address which in her
+youth had pre-eminently distinguished her. The change had worked favorably
+in her temper also; and Martin perceived, with astonishment, that she
+neither made injurious comparisons between the present and the past, nor
+deemed the age they lived in one of insufferable vulgarity. It would
+scarcely have been possible for Lady Dorothea not to connect her altered
+position with the friendship between Kate Henderson and her former pupil;
+she knew it, and she felt it. All her self-esteem could not get over this
+consciousness; but it was a humiliation reserved for her own heart, since
+nothing in Kate's manner indicated even a suspicion of the fact. On the
+contrary, never had she shown herself more submissive and dependent. The
+duties of her office, multiplied as they were tenfold by her Ladyship's
+engagements, were all punctually acquitted, and with a degree of tact and
+cleverness that obtained from Lady Dorothea the credit of a charming
+note-writer. Nor was she indifferent to the effect Kate produced in
+society, where her beauty and fascination had already made a deep
+impression.
+</p>
+<p>
+Reserving a peculiar deference and respect for all her intercourse with
+Lady Dorothea, Kate Henderson assumed to the world at large the ease and
+dignity of one whose station was the equal of any. There was nothing in
+her air or bearing that denoted the dependant; there was rather a dash of
+haughty superiority, which did not scruple to avow itself and bid defiance
+to any bold enough to question its claims. Even this was a secret flattery
+to Lady Dorothea's heart; and she saw with satisfaction the success of
+that imperious tone which to herself was subdued to actual humility.
+</p>
+<p>
+Lady Dorothea Martin and her beautiful companion were now celebrities at
+Paris; and, assuredly, no city of the world knows how to shower more
+fascinations on those it favors. Life became to them a round of brilliant
+festivities. They received invitations from every quarter, and everywhere
+were met with that graceful welcome so sure to greet those whose airs and
+whose dress are the ornaments of a salon. They &ldquo;received&rdquo; at home, too;
+and her Ladyship's Saturdays were about the most exclusive of all Parisian
+receptions. Tacitly, at least, the whole management and direction of these
+&ldquo;Evenings&rdquo; was committed to Kate. Martin strictly abstained from a society
+in every way distasteful to him. The Captain had come to care for nothing
+but play, so that the Club was his only haunt; and it was the rarest of
+all events to see him pass even a few minutes in the drawing-room. He had,
+besides, that degree of shrinking dislike to Kate Henderson which a weak
+man very often experiences towards a clever and accomplished girl. When he
+first joined his family at Paris, he was struck by her great beauty and
+the elegance of a manner that might have dignified any station, and he
+fell partly in love,&mdash;that is to say, as much in love as a captain of
+hussars could permit himself to feel for a governess. He condescended to
+make small advances, show her petty attentions, and even distinguish her
+by that flattering stare, with his glass to his eye, which he had known to
+be what the poet calls &ldquo;blush-compelling&rdquo; in many a fair cheek in
+provincial circles.
+</p>
+<p>
+To his marvellous discomfiture, however, these measures were not followed
+by any success. She never as much as seemed aware of them, and treated him
+with the same polite indifference, as though he had been neither a hussar
+nor a lady-killer. Of course he interpreted this as a piece of consummate
+cunning; he had no other measure for her capacity than would have been
+suited to his own. She was a deep one, evidently bent on drawing him on,
+and entangling him in some stupid declaration, and so he grew cautious.
+But, somehow, his reserve provoked as little as his boldness. She did not
+change in the least; she treated him with a quiet, easy sort of no-notice,&mdash;the
+most offensive thing possible to one bent upon being impressive, and
+firmly persuaded that he need only wish, to be the conqueror.
+</p>
+<p>
+Self-worship was too strong in him to suffer a single doubt as to his own
+capacity for success, and therefore the only solution to the mystery of
+her manner was its being an artful scheme, which time and a little
+watching would surely explain. Time went on, and yet he grew none the
+wiser; Kate continued the same impassive creature as at first. She never
+sought,&mdash;never avoided him. She met him without constraint,&mdash;without
+pleasure, too. They never became intimate, while there was no distance in
+their intercourse; till at last, wounded in his self-esteem, he began to
+feel that discomfort in her presence which only waits for the slightest
+provocation to become actual dislike.
+</p>
+<p>
+With that peevishness that belongs to small minds, he would have been glad
+to have discovered some good ground for hating her; and a dozen times a
+day did he fancy that he had &ldquo;hit the blot,&rdquo; but somehow he always
+detected his mistake erelong; and thus did he live on in that tantalizing
+state of uncertainty and indecision which combines about as much suffering
+as men of his stamp are capable of feeling.
+</p>
+<p>
+If Lady Dorothea never suspected the degree of influence Kate silently
+exercised over her, the Captain saw it palpably, and tried to nourish the
+knowledge into a ground for dislike. But somehow she would no more suffer
+herself to be hated than to be loved, and invariably baffled all his
+attempts to &ldquo;get up&rdquo; an indignation against her. By numberless devices&mdash;too
+slight, too evanescent to be called regular coquetry&mdash;she understood
+how to conciliate him, even in his roughest moods, while she had only to
+make the very least possible display of her attractions to fascinate him
+in his happier moments. The gallant hussar was not much given to
+self-examination. It was one of the last positions he would have selected;
+and yet he had confessed to his own heart that, though he 'd not like to
+marry her himself, he 'd be sorely tempted to shoot any man who made her
+his wife.
+</p>
+<p>
+Lady Dorothea and Kate Henderson were seated one morning engaged in the
+very important task of revising the invitation-book,&mdash;weeding out the
+names of departed acquaintance, and canvassing the claims of those who
+should succeed them. The rigid criticism as to eligibility showed how
+great an honor was the card for her Ladyship's &ldquo;Tea.&rdquo; While they were thus
+occupied, Captain Martin entered the room with an open letter in his hand,
+his air and manner indicating flurry, if not actual agitation.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Sorry to interrupt a privy council,&rdquo; said he, &ldquo;but I've come to ask a
+favor,&mdash;don't look frightened; it's not for a woman, my Lady,&mdash;but
+I want a card for your next Saturday, for a male friend of mine.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Kate has just been telling me that 'our men' are too numerous.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Impossible. Miss Henderson knows better than any one that the success of
+these things depends on having a host of men,&mdash;all ages, all classes,
+all sorts of people,&rdquo; said he, indolently.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I think we have complied with your theory,&rdquo; said she, pointing to the
+book before her. &ldquo;If our ladies are chosen for their real qualities, the
+men have been accepted with a most generous forbearance.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;One more, then, will not damage the mixture.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Of course, Captain Martin, it is quite sufficient that he is a friend of
+yours&mdash;that you wish it&mdash;&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;But it is no such thing, Miss Henderson,&rdquo; broke in Lady Dorothea. &ldquo;We
+have already given deep umbrage in many quarters&mdash;very high quarters,
+too&mdash;by refusals; and a single mistake would be fatal to us.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;But why need this be a mistake?&rdquo; cried Captain Martin, peevishly. &ldquo;The
+man is an acquaintance of mine,&mdash;a friend, if you like to call him
+so.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And who is he?&rdquo; asked my Lady, with all the solemnity of a judge.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;A person I met at the Cape. We travelled home together&mdash;saw a great
+deal of each other&mdash;in fact&mdash;I know him as intimately as I do&mdash;any
+officer in my regiment,&rdquo; said the Captain, blundering and faltering at
+every second word.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Oh! then he is one of your own corps?&rdquo; said her Ladyship.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I never said so,&rdquo; broke he in. &ldquo;If he had been, I don't fancy I should
+need to employ much solicitation in his behalf; the&mdash;they are not
+usually treated in that fashion!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I trust we should know how to recognize their merits,&rdquo; said Kate, with a
+look which sorely puzzled him whether it meant conciliation or raillery.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And his name?&rdquo; asked my Lady. &ldquo;His name ought to be decisive, without
+anything more!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;He's quite a stranger here, knows nobody, so that you incur no risk as to
+any impertinent inquiries, and when he leaves this, to-morrow or next day,
+you 'll never see him again.&rdquo; This the Captain said with all the confusion
+of an inexpert man in a weak cause.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Shall I address his card, or will you take it yourself, Captain Martin?&rdquo;
+ said Kate, in a low voice.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Write Merl,&mdash;Mr. Herman Merl,&rdquo; said he, dropping his own voice to
+the same tone.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Merl!&rdquo; exclaimed Lady Dorothea, whose quick hearing detected the words.
+&ldquo;Why, where on earth could you have made acquaintance with a man called
+Merl?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I have told you already where and how we met; and if it be any
+satisfaction to you to know that I am under considerable obligations&mdash;heavy
+obligations&mdash;to this same gentleman, perhaps it might incline you to
+show him some mark of attention.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You could have him to dinner at your Club,&mdash;you might even bring him
+here, when we're alone, Harry; but really, to receive him at one of our
+Evenings! You know how curious people are, what questions they will ask:&mdash;'Who
+is that queer-looking man?'&mdash;I 'm certain he is so.&mdash;'Is he
+English?'&mdash;'Who does he belong to?'&mdash;'Does he know any one?'&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Let them ask me, then,&rdquo; said Martin, &ldquo;and I may, perhaps, be able to
+satisfy them.&rdquo; At the same moment he took up from the table the card which
+Kate had just written, giving her a look of grateful recognition as he did
+so.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You 've done this at your own peril, Miss Henderson,&rdquo; said Lady Dorothea,
+half upbraidingly.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;At <i>mine</i>, be it rather,&rdquo; said the Captain, sternly.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I accept my share of it willingly,&rdquo; said Kate, with a glance which
+brought a deep flush over the hussar's cheek, and sent through him a
+strange thrill of pleasure.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Then I am to suppose we shall be honored with your own presence on this
+occasion,&mdash;rare favor that it is,&rdquo; said her Ladyship.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yes, I 'll look in. I promised Merl to present him.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Oh, you need n't!&rdquo; said she, peevishly. &ldquo;Half the men merely make their
+bow when they meet me, and neither expect me to remember who they are or
+to notice them. I may leave your distinguished friend in the same
+category.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+A quick glance from Kate&mdash;fleeting, but full of meaning&mdash;stopped
+Martin as he was about to make a hasty reply. And, crumpling up the card
+with suppressed passion, he turned and left the room.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Don't put that odious name on our list, Miss Henderson,&rdquo; said Lady
+Dorothea; &ldquo;we shall never have him again.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I 'm rather curious to see him,&rdquo; said Kate. &ldquo;All this discussion has
+imparted a kind of interest to him, not to say that there would seem
+something like a mystery in Captain Martin's connection with him.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I confess to no such curiosity,&rdquo; said my Lady, haughtily. &ldquo;The taste to
+be amused by vulgarity is like the passion some people have to see an
+hospital; you may be interested by the sight, but you may catch a malady
+for your pains.&rdquo; And with this observation of mingled truth and fallacy
+her Ladyship sailed proudly out of the room in all the conscious
+importance of her own cleverness.
+</p>
+<p>
+<a name="link2HCH0005" id="link2HCH0005">
+<!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+</p>
+<div style="height: 4em;">
+<br /><br /><br /><br />
+</div>
+<h2>
+CHAPTER V. A LETTER FROM HOME
+</h2>
+<p>
+While this discussion was going on, Martin was seated in his own room,
+examining the contents of his letter-bag, which the post had just
+delivered to him. A very casual glance at his features would have
+discovered that the tidings which met his eye were very rarely of a
+pleasant character. For the most part the letters were importunate appeals
+for money, subscriptions, loans, small sums to be repaid when the borrower
+had risen above his present difficulties, aids to effect some little
+enterprise on whose very face was failure. Then there were the more formal
+demands for sums actually due, written in the perfection of coercive
+courtesy, subjecting the reader to all the tortures of a moral surgical
+operation, a suffering actually increased by the very dexterity of the
+manipulator. Then came, in rugged hand and gnarled shape, urgent
+entreaties for abatements and allowances, pathetic pictures of failing
+crops, sickness and sorrow! Somewhat in contrast to these in matter&mdash;most
+strikingly unlike them in manner&mdash;was a short note from Mr. Maurice
+Scanlan. Like a rebutting witness in a cause, he spoke of everything as
+going on favorably; prices were fair, the oat crop a reasonable one. There
+was distress, to be sure, but who ever saw the West without it? The
+potatoes had partially failed; but as there was a great deal of typhus and
+a threat of cholera, there would be fewer to eat them. The late storms had
+done a good deal of mischief, but as the timber thrown down might be sold
+without any regard to the entail, some thousand pounds would thus be
+realized; and as the gale had carried away the new pier at Kilkieran,
+there would be no need to give a bounty to the fishermen who could not
+venture out to sea. The damage done to the house and the conservatories at
+Cro' Martin offered an opportunity to congratulate the owner on the
+happiness of living in a milder climate; while the local squabbles of the
+borough suggested a pleasant contrast with all the enjoyments of a life
+abroad.
+</p>
+<p>
+On the whole, Mr. Scanlan's letter was rather agreeable than the reverse,
+since he contrived to accompany all the inevitable ills of fortune by some
+side-wind consolations, and when pushed hard for these, skilfully
+insinuated in what way &ldquo;things might have been worse.&rdquo; If the letter did
+not reflect very favorably on either the heart or brain that conceived it,
+it well suited him to whom it was addressed. To screen himself from
+whatever might irritate him, to escape an unpleasant thought or unhappy
+reflection, to avoid, above all things, the slightest approach of
+self-censure, was Martin's great philosophy; and he esteemed the man who
+gave him any aid in this road. Now newspapers might croak their dark
+predictions about the coming winter, prophesy famine, fever, and
+pestilence; Scanlan's letter, &ldquo;written from the spot,&rdquo; by &ldquo;one who enjoyed
+every opportunity for forming a correct opinion,&rdquo; was there, and <i>he</i>
+said matters were pretty much as usual. The West of Ireland had never been
+a land of milk and honey, and nobody expected it ever would be,&mdash;the
+people could live in it, however, and pay rents too; and as Martin felt
+that he had no undue severity to reproach himself with, he folded up the
+epistle, saying that &ldquo;when a man left his house and property for a while,
+it was a real blessing to have such a fellow as Scanlan to manage for
+him;&rdquo; and truly, if one could have his conscience kept for a few hundreds
+a year, the compact might be a pleasant one. But even to the most
+self-indulgent this plan is impracticable; and so might it now be seen in
+Martin's heightened color and fidgety manner, and that even <i>he</i> was
+not as much at ease within as he wished to persuade himself he was.
+</p>
+<p>
+Amid the mass of correspondence, pamphlets and newspapers, one note, very
+small and neatly folded, had escaped Martin's notice till the very last;
+and it was only as he heaped up a whole bundle to throw into the fire that
+he discovered this, in Mary's well-known hand. He held it for some time
+ere he broke the seal, and his features assumed a sadder, graver cast than
+before. His desertion of her&mdash;and he had not blinked the word to
+himself&mdash;had never ceased to grieve him; and however disposed he
+often felt to throw upon others the blame which attached to himself here,
+he attempted no casuistry, but stood quietly, without one plea in his
+favor, before his own heart.
+</p>
+<p>
+The very consciousness of his culpability had prevented him writing to her
+as he ought; his letters were few, short, and constrained. Not all the
+generous frankness of hers could restore to him the candid ease of his
+former intercourse with her; and every chance expression he used was
+conned over and canvassed by him, lest it might convey some sentiment, or
+indicate some feeling foreign to his intention. At length so painful had
+the task become that he had ceased writing altogether, contenting himself
+with a message through Kate Henderson,&mdash;some excuse about his health,
+fatigue,-and so forth, ever coupled with a promise that he would soon be
+himself again, and as active a correspondent as she could desire.
+</p>
+<p>
+To these apologies Mary always replied in a kindly spirit. Whatever sorrow
+they might have cost her she kept for herself; they never awakened one
+expression of impatience, not a word of reproach. She understood him
+thoroughly,&mdash;his easy indolence of disposition, his dislike to a
+task, his avoidance of whatever was possible to defer; more even than all
+these, his own unforgiveness of himself for his part towards her. To
+alleviate, so far as she might, the poignancy of the last, was for a while
+the great object of all her letters; and so she continued to expatiate on
+the happy life she was leading, her contentment with the choice she had
+made of remaining there, throwing in little playful sallies of condolence
+at her uncle's banishment, and jestingly assuring him how much happier he
+would be at home!
+</p>
+<p>
+In whatever mood, however, she wrote, there was a striking absence of
+whatever could fret or grieve her uncle throughout all her letters. She
+selected every pleasant topic and the favorable side of every theme to
+tell of. She never forgot any little locality which he had been partial
+to, or any of the people who were his favorites; and, in fact, it might
+have seemed that the great object she had in view was to attach him more
+and more to the home he had left, and strengthen every tie that bound him
+to his own country. And all this was done lightly and playfully, and with
+a pleasant promise of the happiness he should feel on the day of his
+return.
+</p>
+<p>
+These letters were about the pleasantest incidents in Martin's present
+life; and the day which brought him one was sure to pass agreeably, while
+he made vigorous resolutions about writing a reply, and sometimes got even
+so far as to open a desk and ruminate over an answer. It so chanced that
+now a much longer interval had occurred since Mary's last letter, and the
+appearance of the present note, so unlike the voluminous epistle she
+usually despatched, struck him with a certain dismay. &ldquo;Poor Molly,&rdquo; said
+he, as he broke the seal, &ldquo;she is growing weary at last; this continued
+neglect is beginning to tell upon her. A little more, and she 'll believe&mdash;as
+well she may&mdash;that we have forgotten her altogether.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+The note was even briefer than he had suspected. It was written, too, in
+what might seem haste, or agitation, and the signature forgotten. Martin's
+hand trembled, and his chest heaved heavily as he read the following
+lines:&mdash;
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Cro' Martin, Wednesday Night
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Dearest Uncle,&mdash;You will not suffer these few lines to remain
+unanswered, since they are written in all the pressure of a great
+emergency. Our worst fears for the harvest are more than realized; a total
+failure in the potatoes&mdash;a great diminution in the oat crop; the
+incessant rains have flooded all the low meadows, and the cattle are
+almost without forage, while from the same cause no turf can be cut, and
+even that already cut and stacked cannot be drawn away from the bogs. But,
+worse than all these, typhus is amongst us, and cholera, they say, coming.
+I might stretch out this dreary catalogue, but here is enough, more than
+enough, to awaken your sympathies and arouse you to action. There is a
+blight on the land; the people are starving&mdash;dying. If every sense of
+duty was dead within us, if we could harden our hearts against every claim
+of those from whose labor we derive ease, from whose toil we draw wealth
+and leisure, we might still be recalled to better things by the glorious
+heroism of these poor people, so nobly courageous, so patient are they in
+their trials. It is not now that I can speak of the traits I have
+witnessed of their affection, their charity, their self-denial, and their
+daring&mdash;but now is the moment to show them that we, who have been
+dealt with more favorably by fortune, are not devoid of the qualities
+which adorn their nature.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I feel all the cruelty of narrating these things to you, too far away
+from the scene of sorrow to aid by your counsel and encourage by your
+assistance; but it would be worse than cruelty to conceal from you that a
+terrible crisis is at hand, which will need all your energy to mitigate.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Some measures are in your power, and must be adopted at once. There must
+be a remission of rent almost universally, for the calamity has involved
+all; and such as are a little richer than their neighbors should be aided,
+that they may be the more able to help them. Some stores of provisions
+must be provided to be sold at reduced rates, or even given gratuitously.
+Medical aid must be had, and an hospital of some sort established. The
+able-bodied must be employed on some permanent work; and for these, we
+want power from you and some present moneyed assistance. I will not harrow
+your feelings with tales of sufferings. You have seen misery here&mdash;enough,
+I say&mdash;you have witnessed nothing like this, and we are at but the
+beginning.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Write to me at once yourself&mdash;this is no occasion to employ a deputy&mdash;and
+forgive me, dearest uncle, for I know not what faults of presumption I may
+have here committed. My head is confused; the crash of misfortunes has
+addled me, and each succeed so rapidly on each other, that remedies are
+scarcely employed than they have to be abandoned. When, however, I can
+tell the people that it is their own old friend and master that sends them
+help, and bids them to be of good cheer,&mdash;when I can show them that,
+although separated by distance, your heart never ceases to live amongst
+them,&mdash;I know well the magic working of such a spell upon them, and
+how, with a bravery that the boldest soldier never surpassed, they will
+rise up against the stern foes of sickness and famine, and do battle with
+hard fortune manfully.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You have often smiled at what you deemed my exaggerated opinion of these
+poor people,&mdash;my over-confidence in their capacity for good. Oh&mdash;take
+my word for it&mdash;I never gave them credit for one half the excellence
+of their natures. They are on their trial now, and nobly do they sustain
+it!
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I have no heart to answer all your kind questions about myself,&mdash;enough
+that I am well; as little can I ask you about all your doings in Paris. I
+'m afraid I should but lose temper if I heard that they were pleasant
+ones; and yet, with my whole soul, I wish you to be happy; and with this,
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Believe me your affectionate
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Mr. Repton has written me the kindest of letters, full of good advice and
+good sense; he has also enclosed me a check for £100, with an offer of
+more if wanted. I was low and depressed when his note reached me, but it
+gave me fresh energy and hope. He proposed to come down here if I wished;
+but how could I ask such a sacrifice,&mdash;how entreat him to face the
+peril?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Tell Captain Martin I wish to speak to him,&rdquo; said Martin, as he finished
+the perusal of this letter. And in a few minutes after, that gallant
+personage appeared, not a little surprised at the summons.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I have got a letter from Mary here,&rdquo; said Martin, vainly endeavoring to
+conceal his agitation as he spoke, &ldquo;which I want to show you. Matters are
+in a sad plight in the West. She never exaggerates a gloomy story, and her
+account is very afflicting. Read it.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+The Captain lounged towards the window, and, leaning listlessly against
+the wall, opened the epistle.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You have not written to her lately, then?&rdquo; asked he, as he perused the
+opening sentence.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I am ashamed to say I have not; every day I made a resolution; but
+somehow&mdash;&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Is all this anything strange or new?&rdquo; broke in the Captain. &ldquo;I 'm certain
+I have forty letters from my mother with exactly the same story. In fact,
+before I ever broke the seal, I 'd have wagered an equal fifty that the
+potatoes had failed, the bogs were flooded, the roads impassable, and the
+people dying in thousands; and yet, when spring came round, by some happy
+miracle they were all alive and merry again!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Read on,&rdquo; said Martin, impatiently, and barely able to control himself at
+this heartless commentary.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Egad! I 'd have sworn I had read all this before, except these same
+suggestions about not exacting the rents, building hospitals, and so
+forth; that <i>is</i> new. And why does she say, 'Don't write by deputy'?
+Who <i>was</i> your deputy?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Kate Henderson has written for me latterly.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And I should say she 's quite equal to that sort of thing; she dashes off
+my mother's notes at score, and talks away, too, all the time she 's
+writing.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;That is not the question before us,&rdquo; said Martin, sternly.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;When I sent for you to read that letter, it was that you might advise and
+counsel me what course to take.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;If you can afford to give away a year's income in the shape of rent, and
+about as much more in the shape of a donation, of course you 're quite
+free to do it. I only wish that your generosity would begin at home,
+though; for I own to you I 'm very hard-up at this moment.&rdquo; This the
+Captain spoke with an attempted jocularity which decreased with every
+word, till it subsided into downright seriousness ere he finished.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;So far from being in a position to do an act of munificence, I am sorely
+pressed for money,&rdquo; said Martin.
+</p>
+<p>
+The Captain started; the half-smile with which he had begun to receive
+this speech died away on his lips as he asked, &ldquo;Is this really the case?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Most truly so,&rdquo; said Martin, solemnly.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;But how, in the name of everything absurd&mdash;how is this possible? By
+what stratagem could you have spent five thousand a year at Cro' Martin,
+and your estate was worth almost three times as much? Giving a very wide
+margin for waste and robbery, I 'd say five thousand could not be made
+away with there in a twelvemonth.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Your question only shows me how carelessly you must have read my letters
+to you, in India,&rdquo; said Martin; &ldquo;otherwise you could not have failed to
+see the vast improvements we have been carrying out on the property,&mdash;the
+roads, the harbors, the new quarries opened, the extent of ground covered
+by plantation,&mdash;all the plans, in fact, which Mary had matured&mdash;&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Mary! Mary!&rdquo; exclaimed the Captain. &ldquo;And do you tell me that all these
+things were done at the instigation of a young girl of nineteen or twenty,
+without any knowledge, or even advice&mdash;&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And who said she was deficient in knowledge?&rdquo; cried Martin. &ldquo;Take up the
+map of the estate; see the lands she has reclaimed; look at the swamps you
+used to shoot snipe over bearing corn crops; see the thriving village,
+where once the boatmen were starving, for they dared not venture out to
+sea without a harbor against bad weather.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Tell me the cost of all this. What's the figure?&rdquo; said the Captain;
+&ldquo;that's the real test of all these matters, for if <i>your</i> income
+could only feed this outlay, I pronounce the whole scheme the maddest
+thing in Christendom. My mother's taste for carved oak cabinets and
+historical pictures is the quintessence of wisdom in comparison.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Martin was overwhelmed and silent, and the other went on,&mdash;&ldquo;Half the
+fellows in 'ours' had the same story to tell,&mdash;of estates wasted, and
+fine fortunes squandered in what are called improvements. If the
+possession of a good property entails the necessity to spend it all in
+this fashion, one is very little better than a kind of land-steward to
+one's own estate; and, for my part, I 'd rather call two thousand a year
+my own, to do what I pleased with, than have a nominal twenty, of which I
+must disburse nineteen.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Am I again to remind you that this is not the question before us?&rdquo; said
+Martin, with increased sternness.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;That is exactly the very question,&rdquo; rejoined the Captain. &ldquo;Mary here
+coolly asks you, in the spirit of this same improvement-scheme, to
+relinquish a year's income, and make a present of I know not how much
+more, simply because things are going badly with them, just as if
+everybody has n't their turn of ill-fortune. Egad, I can answer for it, <i>mine</i>
+has n't been flourishing latterly, and yet I have heard of no benevolent
+plan on foot to aid or release me!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+To this heartless speech, uttered, however, in most perfect sincerity,
+Martin made no reply whatever, but sat with folded arms, deep in
+contemplation. At length, raising his head, he asked, &ldquo;And have you, then,
+no counsel to give,&mdash;no suggestion to make me?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Well,&rdquo; said he, suddenly, &ldquo;if Mary has not greatly overcharged all this
+story&mdash;&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;That she has not,&rdquo; cried Martin, interrupting him. &ldquo;There 's not a line,
+not a word of her letter, I 'd not guarantee with all I 'm worth in the
+world.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;In that case,&rdquo; resumed the Captain, in the same indolent tone, &ldquo;they must
+be in a sorry plight, and <i>I</i> think ought to cut and run as fast as
+they can. I know that's what <i>we</i> do in India; when the cholera
+comes, we break up the encampment, and move off somewhere else. Tell Mary,
+then, to advise them to keep out of 'the jungle,' and make for the hill
+country.'&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Martin stared at the speaker for some seconds, and it was evident how
+difficult he found it to believe that the words he had just listened to
+were uttered in deliberate seriousness.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;If you have read that letter, you certainly have not understood it,&rdquo; said
+he at last, in a voice full of melancholy meaning.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Egad, it's only too easy of comprehension,&rdquo; replied the Captain; &ldquo;of all
+things in life, there's no mistaking a demand for money.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Just take it with you to your own room, Harry,&rdquo; said Martin, with a
+manner of more affection than he had yet employed. &ldquo;It is my firm
+persuasion that when you have re-read and thought over it, your impression
+will be a different one. Con it over in solitude, and then come back and
+give me your advice.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+The Captain was not sorry to adopt a plan which relieved him so speedily
+from a very embarrassing situation, and, folding up the note, he turned
+and left the room.
+</p>
+<p>
+There are a great number of excellent people in this world who believe
+that &ldquo;Thought,&rdquo; like &ldquo;Écarté,&rdquo; is a game which requires two people to
+play. The Captain was one of these; nor was it within his comprehension to
+imagine how any one individual could suffice to raise the doubts he was
+called on to canvass or decide. &ldquo;Who should he now have recourse to?&rdquo; was
+his first question; and he had scarcely proposed it to himself when a soft
+low voice said, &ldquo;What is puzzling Captain Martin?&mdash;can I be of any
+service to him?&rdquo; He turned and saw Kate Henderson.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Only think how fortunate!&rdquo; exclaimed he. &ldquo;Just come in here to this
+drawing-room, and give me your advice.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Willingly,&rdquo; said she, with a courtesy the more marked because his manner
+indicated a seriousness that betokened trouble.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;My father has just dismissed me to cogitate over this epistle; as if,
+after all, when one has read a letter, that any secret or mystical
+interpretation is to come by all the reconsideration and reflection in the
+world.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Am I to read it?&rdquo; asked Kate, as he placed it in her hand.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Of course you are,&rdquo; said he.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;There is nothing confidential or private in it which I ought not to see?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Nothing; and if there were,&rdquo; added he, warmly, &ldquo;<i>you</i> are one of
+ourselves, I trust,&mdash;at least <i>I</i> think you so.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Kate's lips closed with almost stern % impressiveness, but her color never
+changed at this speech, and she opened the letter in silence. For some
+minutes she continued to read with the same impassive expression; but
+gradually her cheek became paler, and a haughty, almost scornful,
+expression settled on her lips. &ldquo;So patient are they in their trials,&rdquo;
+ said she, reading aloud the expression of Mary's note. &ldquo;Is it not
+possible, Captain Martin, that patience may be pushed a little beyond a
+virtue, and become something very like cowardice,&mdash;abject cowardice?
+And then,&rdquo; cried she impetuously, and not waiting for his reply, &ldquo;to say
+that now is the time to show these poor people the saving care and
+protection that the rich owe them, as if the duty dated from the hour of
+their being struck down by famine, laid low by pestilence, or that the
+debt could ever be acquitted by the relief accorded to pauperism! Why not
+have taught these same famished creatures self-dependence, elevated them
+to the rank of civilized beings by the enjoyment of rights that give men
+self-esteem as well as liberty? What do you mean to do, sir?&mdash;or is
+that your difficulty?&rdquo; cried she, hastily changing her tone to one of less
+energy.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Exactly,&mdash;that is <i>my difficulty</i>. My father, I suspect, wishes
+me to concur in the pleasant project struck out by Mary, and that, by way
+of helping <i>them</i>, we should ruin <i>ourselves</i>.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And <i>you</i> are for&mdash;&rdquo; She stopped, as if to let him finish her
+question for her.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Egad, I don't know well what I'm for, except it be self-preservation. I
+mean,&rdquo; said he, correcting himself, as a sudden glance of almost insolent
+scorn shot from Kate's eyes towards him,&mdash;&ldquo;I mean that I 'm certain
+more than half of this account is sheer exaggeration. Mary is frightened,&mdash;as
+well she may be,&mdash;finding herself all alone, and hearing nothing but
+the high-colored stories the people brings her, and listening to
+calamities from morning to night.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;But still it <i>may</i> be all true,&rdquo; said Kate, solemnly. &ldquo;It may be&mdash;as
+Miss Martin writes&mdash;that 'there is a blight on the land.'&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;What's to be done, then?&rdquo; asked he, in deep embarrassment.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;The first step is to ascertain what is fact,&mdash;the real extent of the
+misfortune.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And how is that to be accomplished?&rdquo; asked he.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Can you not think of some means?&rdquo; said she, with a scarcely perceptible
+approach to a smile.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;No, by Jove! that I cannot, except by going over there one's self.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And why not that?&rdquo; asked she, more boldly, while she fixed her large full
+eyes directly upon him.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;If <i>you</i> thought that I ought to go,&mdash;if you advised it and
+would actually say 'Go'&mdash;&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Well, if I should?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Then I'd set off to-night; though, to say truth, neither the journey nor
+the business are much to my fancy.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Were they ten times less so, sir, I'd say, 'Go,'&rdquo; said she, resolutely.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Then go I will,&rdquo; cried the Captain; &ldquo;and I'll start within two hours.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+<a name="link2HCH0006" id="link2HCH0006">
+<!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+</p>
+<div style="height: 4em;">
+<br /><br /><br /><br />
+</div>
+<h2>
+CHAPTER VI. MR. MERL'S DEPARTURE
+</h2>
+<p>
+Worthy reader, you are neither weak of purpose nor undecided in action; as
+little are you easily moved by soft influences, when aided by long
+eyelashes. But had you been so, it would have been no difficult effort for
+you to comprehend the state of mind in which Captain Martin repaired to
+his room to make preparation for his journey. There was a kind of half
+chivalry in his present purpose that nerved and supported him. It was like
+a knight-errant of old setting out to confront a peril at the behest of
+his lady-love; but against this animating conviction there arose that
+besetting sin of small minds,&mdash;a sense of distrust,&mdash;a lurking
+suspicion that he might be, all this while, nothing but the dupe of a very
+artful woman.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Who can tell,&rdquo; said he to himself, &ldquo;what plan she may have in all this,
+or what object she may propose to herself in getting <i>me</i> out of the
+way? I don't think she really cares one farthing about the distress of
+these people, supposing it all to be true; and as to the typhus fever and
+cholera, egad! if they be there, one ought to think twice before rushing
+into the midst of them. And then, again, what do I know about the country
+or its habits? I have no means of judging if it be poorer or sicklier or;
+more wretched than usual. To <i>my</i> eyes, it always seemed at the
+lowest depth of want and misery; every one went half starved and more than
+half naked. I 'm sure there is no necessity for my going some few hundred
+and odd miles to refresh my memory on this pleasant fact; and yet this is
+precisely what I 'm about to do. Is it by way of trying her power over me?
+By Jove, I 've hit it!&rdquo; cried he, suddenly, as he stopped arranging a mass
+of letters which he was reducing to order before his departure. &ldquo;That's
+her game; there's no doubt of it! She has said to herself, 'This will
+prove him. If he do this at my bidding, he'll do more.' Ay, but will he,
+mademoiselle? that's the question. A young hussar may turn out to be a
+very old soldier. What if I were just to tell her so. Girls of her stamp
+like a man all the better when he shows himself to be wide-awake. I 'd lay
+a fifty on it she 'll care more for me when she sees I 'm her own equal in
+shrewdness. And, after all, why should <i>I</i> go? I could send my valet,
+Fletcher,&mdash;just the kind of fellow for such a mission,&mdash;never
+knew the secret he could n't worm out; there never was a bit of barrack
+scandal he did n't get to the bottom of. He 'd be back here within a
+fortnight, with the whole state of the case, and I'll be bound there will
+be no humbugging <i>him</i>.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+This bright idea was not, however, without its share of detracting
+reflections, for what became of all that personal heroism on which he
+reposed such hope, if the danger were to be encountered by deputy? This
+was a puzzle, not the less that he had not yet made up his mind whether he
+'d really be in love with Kate Henderson, or only involve <i>her</i> in an
+unfortunate attachment for <i>him</i>. While he thus pondered and
+hesitated, strewing his room with the contents of drawers and cabinets, by
+way of aiding the labor of preparation, his door was suddenly opened, and
+Mr. Merl made his appearance. Although dressed with all his habitual
+regard to effect, and more than an ordinary display of chains and
+trinkets, that gentleman's aspect betokened trouble and anxiety; at least,
+there was a certain restlessness in his eye that Martin well understood as
+an evidence of something wrong within.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Are you getting ready for a journey, Captain?&rdquo; asked he, as he entered.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I was thinking of it; but I believe I shall not go. I 'm undecided.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Up the Rhine?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;No; not in that direction.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;South,&mdash;towards Italy, perhaps?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Nor there, either. I was meditating a trip to England.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;We should be on the road together,&rdquo; said Merl. &ldquo;I'm off by four o'clock.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;How so? What's the reason of this sudden start?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;There's going to be a crash here,&rdquo; said Merl, speaking in a lower tone.
+&ldquo;The Government have been doing the thing with too high a hand, and
+there's mischief brewing.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Are you sure of this?&rdquo; asked Martin.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Only too sure, that's all. I bought in, on Tuesday last, at sixty-four
+and an eighth, and the same stock is now fifty-one and a quarter, and will
+be forty to-morrow. The day after&mdash;&rdquo; Here Mr. Merl made a motion with
+his outstretched arm, to indicate utter extinction.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You're a heavy loser, then?&rdquo; asked Martin, eagerly.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I shall be, to the tune of some thirteen thousand pounds. It was just on
+that account I came in here. I shall need money within the week, and must
+turn those Irish securities of yours into cash,&mdash;some of them at
+least,&mdash;and I want a hint from you as to which I ought to dispose of
+and which hold over. You told me one day, I remember, that there was a
+portion of the property likely to rise greatly in value&mdash;&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;<i>You</i> told me, sir,&rdquo; said Captain Martin, breaking suddenly in,
+&ldquo;when I gave you these same bonds, that they should remain in your own
+hands, and never leave them. That was the condition on which I gave them.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I suppose, Captain, you gave them for something; you did not make a
+present of them,&rdquo; said the Jew, coloring slightly.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;If I did not make a present of them,&rdquo; rejoined Martin, &ldquo;the transaction
+was about as profitable to me.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You owed me the money, sir; that, at least, is the way I regard the
+matter.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And when I paid it by these securities, you pledged yourself not to
+negotiate them. I explained to you how the entail was settled,&mdash;that
+the property must eventually be mine,&mdash;and you accepted the
+arrangement on these conditions.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;All true, Captain; but nobody told me, at that time, there was going to
+be a revolution in Paris,&mdash;which there will be within forty-eight
+hours.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Confounded fool that I was to trust the fellow!&rdquo; said Martin to himself,
+but quite loud enough to be heard; then turning to Merl, he said, &ldquo;What do
+you mean by converting them into cash? Are you about to sell part of our
+estate?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Nothing of the kind, Captain,&rdquo; said Merl, smiling at the innocence of the
+question. &ldquo;I am simply going to deposit these where I can obtain an
+advance upon them. I promise you, besides, it shall not be in any quarter
+by which the transaction can reach the ears of your family. This assurance
+will, I trust, satisfy <i>you</i>, and entitle <i>me</i> to the
+information I ask for.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;What information do you allude to?&rdquo; asked Martin, who had totally
+forgotten what the Jew announced as the reason of his visit.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I asked you, Captain,&rdquo; said Merl, resuming the mincing softness of his
+usual manner, &ldquo;as to which of these securities might be the more eligible
+for immediate negotiation?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And how should I know, sir?&rdquo; replied the other, rudely. &ldquo;I am very little
+acquainted with the property itself; I know still less about the kind of
+dealings you speak of. It does not concern me in the least what you do, or
+how you do it. I believe I may have given you bonds for something very
+like double the amount of all you ever advanced to me. I hear of nothing
+from my father but the immense resources of this, and the great
+capabilities of that; but as these same eventualities are not destined to
+better <i>my</i> condition, I have not troubled my head to remember
+anything about them. You have a claim of about twenty thousand against
+me.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Thirty-two thousand four hundred and seventy-eight pounds,&rdquo; said the Jew,
+reading from a small note-book which he had just taken from his waistcoat
+pocket.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;That is some ten thousand more than ever I heard of,&rdquo; said Martin, with
+an hysterical sort of laugh. &ldquo;Egad, Merl, the fellows were right that
+would not have you in the 'Cercle.' You 'd have 'cleared every man of them
+out,'&mdash;as well let a ferret into a rabbit warren.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I was n't aware,&mdash;I had not heard that I was put up&mdash;&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;To be sure you were; in all form proposed, seconded, and duly
+blackballed. I own to you, I thought it very hard, very illiberal. There
+are plenty of fellows there that have no right to be particular; and so
+Jack Massingbred as much as told them. The fact is, Merl, you ought to
+have waited awhile, and by the time that Harlowe and Spencer Cavendish and
+a few more such were as deep in your books as I am, you 'd have had a walk
+over. Willoughby says the same. It might have cost you something smart,
+but you 'd have made it pay in the end,&mdash;eh, Merl?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+To this speech, uttered in a strain of jocular impertinence, Merl made no
+reply. He had just torn one of his gloves in pieces in the effort to draw
+it on, and he was busily exerting himself to get rid of the fragments.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Lady Dorothea had given me a card for you for Saturday,&rdquo; resumed the
+Captain; &ldquo;but as you 're going away&mdash;Besides, after this defeat at
+the Club, you could n't well come amongst all these people; so there's
+nothing for it but patience, Merl, patience&mdash;&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;A lesson that may be found profitable to others, perhaps,&rdquo; said the Jew,
+with one of his furtive looks at the Captain, who quailed under it at
+once.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I was going to give you a piece of advice, Merl,&rdquo; said he, in a tone the
+very opposite to his late bantering one. &ldquo;It was, that you should just
+take a run over to Ireland yourself, and see the property.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I mean to do so, Captain Martin,&rdquo; said the other, calmly.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I can't offer you letters, for they would defeat what you desire to
+accomplish; besides, there is no member of the family there at present but
+a young lady-cousin of mine.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Just the kind of introduction I 'd like,&rdquo; said the Jew, with all the zest
+of a man glad to say what he knew would be deemed an impertinence.
+</p>
+<p>
+Martin grew crimson with suppressed anger, but never spoke a word.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Is this the Cousin Mary I have heard you speak of,&rdquo; said Merl,&mdash;&ldquo;the
+great horsewoman, and she that ventures out alone on the Atlantic in a
+mere skiff?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Martin nodded. His temper was almost an overmatch for him, and he dared
+not trust himself to speak.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I should like to see her amazingly, Captain,&rdquo; resumed Merl.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Remember, sir, you have no lien upon <i>her</i>,&rdquo; said Martin, sternly.
+</p>
+<p>
+The Jew smirked and ran his fingers through his hair with the air of one
+who deemed such an eventuality by no means so very remote.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Do you know, Master Merl,&rdquo; said Martin, staring at him from head to foot
+with an expression the reverse of complimentary, &ldquo;I 'm half disposed to
+give you a few lines to my cousin; and if you 'll not take the thing as a
+<i>mauvais plaisanterie</i> on my part, I will do so.&rdquo;. &ldquo;Quite the
+contrary, Captain. I 'll deem it a great favor, indeed,&rdquo; said Merl, with
+an admirable affectation of unconsciousness.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Here goes, then,&rdquo; said Martin, sitting down to a table, and preparing his
+writing materials, while in a hurried hand he began:&mdash;
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;'Dear Cousin Mary,&mdash;This will introduce to you Mr. Herman Merl, who
+visits your remote regions on a tour of&mdash;&mdash;What shall I say?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Pleasure,&mdash;amusement,&rdquo; interposed Merl.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;No, when I <i>am</i> telling a fib, I like a big one,&mdash;I 'll say,
+philanthropy, Merl; and there's nothing so well adapted to cover those
+secret investigations you are bent upon,&mdash;a tour of philanthropy.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;'You will, I am sure, lend him all possible assistance in his benevolent
+object,&mdash;the same being to dispose of the family acres,&mdash;and at
+the same time direct his attention to whatever may be matter of interest,&mdash;whether
+mines, quarries, or other property easily convertible into cash,&mdash;treating
+him in all respects as one to whom I owe many obligations&mdash;and
+several thousand pounds.'
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Will that do, think you?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Perfectly; nothing better.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;In return, I shall ask one favor at your hands,&rdquo; said Martin, as he
+folded and addressed the epistle. &ldquo;It is that you write me a full account
+of what you see in the West,&mdash;how the country looks, and the people.
+Of course it will all seem terribly poor and destitute, and all that sort
+of thing, to your eyes; but just try and find out if it be worse than
+usual. Paddy is such a shrewd fellow, Merl, that it will require all your
+own sharpness not to be taken in by him. A long letter full of detail&mdash;a
+dash of figures in it&mdash;as to how many sheep have the rot, or how many
+people have caught the fever, will improve it,&mdash;you know the kind of
+thing I mean; and&mdash;I don't suppose you care about shooting, yourself,
+but you 'll get some one to tell you&mdash;are the birds plenty and in
+good condition. There's a certain Mr. Scanlan, if you chance upon him; he
+'s up to everything, and not a bad performer at dummy whist,&mdash;though
+I think <i>you</i> could teach him a thing or two.&rdquo; Merl smiled and tried
+to look flattered, while the other went on: &ldquo;And there 's another, called
+Henderson,&mdash;the steward,&mdash;a very shrewd person,&mdash;but <i>you</i>
+don't need all these particulars; you may be trusted to your own good
+guidance,&mdash;eh, Merl?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Merl again smiled in the same fashion as before; in fact, so completely
+had he resumed the bland expression habitual to him, that the Captain
+almost forgot the unpleasant cause of his visit, and all the disagreeable
+incidents of the interview.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You could n't give me a few lines to this Mr. Scanlan?&rdquo; asked Merl, with
+an air of easy indifference.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Nothing easier,&rdquo; cried the Captain, reseating himself; then suddenly
+rising, with the expression of one to whom a sudden thought had just
+crossed the mind, &ldquo;Wait one second for me here, Merl; I'll be back with
+you at once.&rdquo; And as he spoke he dashed out of the room, and hastened to
+his father.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;By a rare piece of luck,&rdquo; cried he, as he entered, &ldquo;I 've just chanced
+upon the very fellow we want; an acquaintance I picked up at the Cape,&mdash;up
+to everything; he goes over to Ireland to-night, and he 'll take a run
+down to Cro' Martin, and send us his report of all he sees. Whatever he
+tells us may be relied upon; for, depend upon 't, no lady can humbug <i>him</i>.
+I 've just given him a note for Mary, and I 'll write a few lines also by
+way of introducing him to Scanlan.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Martin could barely follow the Captain, as with rapid utterance he poured
+forth this plan. &ldquo;Do I know him? What's his name?&rdquo; asked he at last.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You never saw him. His name is Merl,&mdash;Herman Merl,&mdash;a fellow of
+considerable wealth; a great speculator,&mdash;one of those Stock Exchange
+worthies who never deal in less than tens of thousands. He has a crotchet
+in his head about buying up half the West of Ireland,&mdash;some scheme
+about flax and the deep-sea fishery. I don't understand it, but I suppose
+<i>he</i> does. At all events, he has plenty of money, and the head to
+make it fructify; and if he only take a liking to it, he 's the very
+fellow to buy up Kilkieran, and the islands, and the rest of that waste
+district you were telling me of t'other night. But I must n't detain him.
+He starts at four o'clock; and I only ran over here to tell you not to
+worry yourself any more about Mary's letter. He 'll look to it all.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+And with this consolatory assurance the Captain hastened away, leaving
+Martin as much relieved in mind as an indolent nature and an easy
+conscience were sure to make him. To get anybody &ldquo;to look to&rdquo; anything had
+been his whole object in life; to know that, whatever happened, there was
+always somebody who misstated this, or neglected that, at whose door all
+the culpability&mdash;where there was such&mdash;could be laid and but for
+whom he had himself performed miracles of energy and devotedness, and
+endured all the tortures and trials of a martyr. He was, indeed, as are a
+great many others in this world, an excellent man to his own heart,&mdash;kind,
+charitable, and affectionate; a well-wisher to his kind, and hopeful of
+almost every one; but, all this while, his virtues, like a miser's gold,
+had no circulation; they remained locked up within him for his own use
+alone, and there he sat, counting them over and gazing at them,
+speculating upon all that this affluence could do, and&mdash;never doing
+it!
+</p>
+<p>
+Life abounds with such men. They win respect while they live, and white
+marble records their virtues when they die! Nor are they all useless.
+Their outward bearing at least simulates whatever we revere in good men,
+and we accept them in the same spirit of compromise as we take stucco for
+stone; if they do no more, they show our appreciation of the &ldquo;real
+article.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+The Captain was not long in inditing a short note to Scanlan, to whom,
+&ldquo;strictly confidential,&rdquo; Mr. Merl was introduced as a great capitalist and
+speculator, desirous to ascertain all the resources of the land. Scanlan
+was enjoined to show him every attention, making his visit in all respects
+as agreeable as possible.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;This fellow will treat you well, Merl,&rdquo; said the Captain, as he folded
+the letter; &ldquo;will give you the best salmon you ever tasted, and a glass of
+Gordon's Madeira such as few could sport now-a-days. And if you have a
+fancy for a day with my Cousin Mary's hounds, he 'll mount you admirably,
+and show you the way besides.&rdquo; And with this speech Martin wished him
+good-bye; and closing the door after him, added, &ldquo;And if he'll kindly
+assist you to a broken neck, it's about the greatest service he could
+render me!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+The laugh, silly and meaningless, that followed his utterance of this
+speech, showed that it was spoken in all the listlessness of one who had
+not really character enough to be even a &ldquo;good hater.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+<a name="link2HCH0007" id="link2HCH0007">
+<!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+</p>
+<div style="height: 4em;">
+<br /><br /><br /><br />
+</div>
+<h2>
+CHAPTER VII. THE CLUB
+</h2>
+<p>
+So little impression had Merl's gloomy forebodings made upon Captain
+Martin, that he actually forgot everything that this shrewd gentleman
+predicted, and only partially recalled them when the conversation the next
+morning at the Club turned on the disturbed state of the capital. People
+in &ldquo;society&rdquo; find it excessively difficult to believe in anything like an
+organized opposition to the authorities of a government. They are so
+accustomed to hear of street assemblages being scattered by a few
+soldiers, mobs routed by a handful of mounted policemen, that they are
+slow to imagine how any formidable movement can take its rise in such a
+source. But the maladies of states, like those of the human frame, are
+often mere trifles in their origin; chance, and the concurrence of events
+swell their importance, till they assume an aspect of perhaps greater
+menace than they deserve. This is essentially the case in revolutionary
+struggles, where, at the outset, none ever contemplates the extent to
+which the mischief may reach. The proclamation of the &ldquo;Ordinances,&rdquo; as
+they were called, had produced a great excitement in Paris. Groups of men
+in every street were gathered around some one reading aloud the violent
+commentaries of the public papers; thoughtful and stern faces were met at
+every corner; a look of expectancy&mdash;an expression that seemed to say,
+What next?&mdash;was perceptible on all sides. Many of the shops were half
+closed, and in some the objects of great value were withdrawn to places of
+greater security. It was clear to see that men apprehended some great
+crisis; but whence it should come, or by whose instrumentality promoted,
+none seemed able to guess. Now and then a mounted orderly would ride by at
+a smart trot, or a patrol party of dragoons dash past; and the significant
+glance that followed them indicated how full of meaning these signs
+appeared.
+</p>
+<p>
+The day passed in this state of anxious uncertainty; and although the
+journals discussed the condition of the capital as full of danger and
+menace, an ostentatious announcement in the &ldquo;Moniteur&rdquo; proclaimed Paris to
+be tranquil. In society&mdash;at least in the world of fashion and high
+life&mdash;there were very few who would have disputed the official
+despatch. &ldquo;Who and what were they who could dispute the King's Government?
+Who and where were there either leaders or followers? In what way should
+they attempt it? The troops in and around Paris numbered something over
+forty thousand, commanded by an old Marshal of the Empire, now the
+trustiest adherent of royalty. The days of Mirabeaus and Robespierres and
+Dantons had passed away; nor were these times in which men would like to
+recall the reigns of terror and the guillotine.&rdquo; So they reasoned&mdash;or,
+if the phrase be too strong, so they talked&mdash;who lounged on
+soft-cushioned ottomans, or moved listlessly over luxurious carpets; all
+agreeing that it would be treasonable in the Ministers to retreat or abate
+one jot of the high prerogative of the Crown. Powdered heads shook
+significantly, and gold-embroidered vests heaved indignantly at the bare
+thought that the old spirit of '95 should have survived amongst them; but
+not one dreamed that the event boded seriously, or that the destinies of a
+great nation were then in the balance.
+</p>
+<p>
+It is but five-and-twenty years ago; and how much more have we learned of
+the manufacture of revolutions in the interval! Barricades and street
+warfare have become a science, and the amount of resistance a half-armed
+populace can offer to a regular force is as much a matter of certainty as
+a mathematical theorem. At that period, however, men were but in the
+infancy of this knowledge; the traditions of the Great Revolution scarcely
+were remembered, and, for the most part, they were inapplicable.
+</p>
+<p>
+What wonder, then, if people in society smiled scornfully at the
+purposeless masses that occasionally moved past beneath their windows,
+shouting with discordant voices some fragments of the &ldquo;Marseillaise,&rdquo; or,
+as they approached the residence of any in authority, venturing on the
+more daring cry of &ldquo;Down with the Ordinances!&rdquo; The same tone of haughty
+contempt pervaded the &ldquo;Club.&rdquo; Young men of fashion, little given to the
+cares of political life, and really indifferent to the action of laws
+which never invaded the privileges of the play-table, or curtailed one
+prerogative of the &ldquo;Coulisses,&rdquo; felt an angry impatience at all the
+turbulence and riot of the public streets.
+</p>
+<p>
+In a magnificently furnished salon of the Club a number of these young men
+were now assembled. Gathered from every nation of Europe,&mdash;many of
+them bearing names of high historical interest,&mdash;they were, so far as
+dress, air, and appearance went, no ignoble representatives of the class
+they belonged to. The proud and haughty Spaniard, the fierce-eyed,
+daring-looking Pole, the pale, intellectual-faced Italian, the courteous
+Russian, and the fair-haired, stalwart Saxon were all there; and, however
+dissimilar in type, banded together by the magic influence of the &ldquo;set&rdquo;
+ they moved in, to an almost perfect uniformity of sentiment and opinion.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I vote that any man be fined ten Louis that alludes, however remotely, to
+this confounded question again,&rdquo; cried Count Gardoni, rising impatiently
+from his chair and approaching a card-table.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And I second you!&rdquo; exclaimed a Polish prince, with a Russian decoration
+at his button-hole.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Carried <i>nem. con.</i>&rdquo; said Captain Martin, seating himself at the
+play-table. &ldquo;And now for the 'Lansquenet.'&rdquo; And in a moment every seat was
+occupied, and purses of gold and pocket-books of bank-notes were strewed
+over the board. They were all men who played high; and the game soon
+assumed the grave character that so invariably accompanies large wagers.
+Wonderfully little passed, except the terms of the game itself. Gambling
+is a jealous passion, and never admits its votaries to wander in their
+attention. And now large sums passed from hand to hand, and all the
+passions of hope and fear racked heads and hearts around, while a decorous
+silence prevailed; or, when broken, some softly toned voice alone
+interrupted the stillness.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Are you going, Martin?&rdquo; whispered the young French Count de Nevers, as
+the other moved noiselessly back from the table.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;It is high time, I think,&rdquo; said Martin; &ldquo;this is my seventeenth night of
+losing,&mdash;losing heavily, too. I'm sick of it!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Here 's a chance for you, Martin,&rdquo; said a Russian prince, who had just
+assumed &ldquo;the bank.&rdquo; &ldquo;You shall have your choice of color, and your own
+stake.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Thanks; but I'll not be tempted.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I say red, and a thousand francs,&rdquo; cried a Neapolitan.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;There 's heavier play outside, I suspect,&rdquo; said Martin, as a wild, hoarse
+shout from the streets re-echoed through the room.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;A fine,&mdash;a fine,&mdash;Martin is fined!&rdquo; cried several around the
+table.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You have n't left me wherewithal to pay it, gentlemen,&rdquo; said he,
+laughing. &ldquo;I was just about to retire, a bankrupt, into private life.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;That's platoon fire,&rdquo; exclaimed the Pole, as the loud detonation of small
+arms seemed to shake the very room.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Czernavitz also fined,&rdquo; cried two together.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I bow in submission to the Court,&rdquo; said the Pole, throwing down the money
+on the table.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Lend <i>me</i> as much more,&rdquo; said Martin; &ldquo;it may change my luck.&rdquo; And
+with this gambler's philosophy, he again drew nigh the table.
+</p>
+<p>
+This slight interruption over, the game proceeded as before. Martin,
+however, was now a winner, every wager succeeding, and every bet he made a
+gain.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;There's nothing like a dogged persistence,&rdquo; said the Russian. &ldquo;Fortune
+never turns her back on him who shows constancy. See Martin, now; by that
+very resolution he has conquered, and here we are, all cleared out!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I am, for one,&rdquo; cried an Italian, flinging his empty purse on the table.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;There's my last Louis,&rdquo; said Nevers. &ldquo;I reserve it to pay for my supper.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Martin shall treat us all to supper!&rdquo; exclaimed another.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Where shall it be, then?&rdquo; said Martin; &ldquo;here, or at my own quarters?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Here, by all means,&rdquo; cried some.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I 'm for the Place Vendôme,&rdquo; said the Pole, &ldquo;for who knows but we shall
+catch a glimpse of that beautiful girl, Martin's 'Belle Irlandaise.'&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I saw her to-night,&rdquo; said the Italian, &ldquo;and I own she <i>is</i> all you
+say. She was speaking to Villemart, and I assure you the old Minister
+won't forget it in a hurry. Something or other he said about the noise in
+the street drew from him the word <i>canaille</i>. She turned round at
+once and attacked him. He replied, and the controversy grew warm; so much
+so, that many gathered around them to listen, amongst whom I saw the Duc
+de Guiche, Prince du Saulx, and the Austrian Minister. Nothing could be
+more perfect than her manner,&mdash;calm, without any effrontery; assured,
+and yet no sacrifice of delicacy. It was easy to see, too, that the theme
+was not one into which she stumbled by an accident; she knew every event
+of the Great Revolution, and used the knowledge with consummate skill,
+and, but for one slip, with consummate temper also.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;What was the slip you allude to?&rdquo; cried the Russian.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;It was when Villemart, after a boastful enumeration of the superior
+merits of his order, called them the 'Enlighteners of the People.'
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;'You played that part on one occasion,' said she; 'but I scarcely thought
+you 'd like to refer to it.'
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;'How so? When do you mean?' asked he.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;'When they hung you to the lanterns,' said she, with the energy of a
+tigress in her look. Pardié! at that moment I never saw anything so
+beautiful or so terrible.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+A loud uproar in the street without, in which the sound of troop-horses
+passaging to and fro could be distinguished, now interrupted the colloquy.
+As the noise increased, a low, deep roar, like the sound of distant
+thunder, could be heard, and the Pole cried out,&mdash;&ldquo;Messieurs les
+Sans-culottes, I strongly advise you to turn homewards, for, if I be not
+much mistaken, here comes the artillery.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;The affair may turn out a serious one, after all,&rdquo; broke in the Italian.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;A serious one!&rdquo; echoed the Pole, scornfully. &ldquo;How can it? Forty
+battalions of infantry, ten thousand sabres, and eight batteries; are they
+not enough, think you, to rout this contemptible herd of street rioters?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;There&mdash;listen! It has begun already!&rdquo; exclaimed Martin, as the sharp
+report of fire-arms, quite close to the windows, was followed by a crash,
+and then a wild, mad shout, half rage, half defiance.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;There's nothing for it, in these things, but speedy action,&rdquo; said the
+Pole; &ldquo;grape and cavalry charges to clear the streets, and rifle practice
+at anything that shows itself at the windows.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;It is so easy, so very easy, to crush a mob,&rdquo; said the Russian, &ldquo;if you
+only direct your attention to the leader,&mdash;think of nothing but <i>him</i>.
+Once you show that, whatever may be the fate of others, death must be his,
+the whole assemblage becomes a disorganized, unwieldy mass, to be sabred
+or shot down at pleasure.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Soldiers have no fancy for this kind of warfare,&rdquo; said De Nevers,
+haughtily; &ldquo;victory is never glorious, defeat always humiliation.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;But who talks of defeat?&rdquo; exclaimed the Pole, passionately. &ldquo;The officer
+who could fail against such an enemy should be shot by a court-martial. We
+have, I believe, every man of us here, served; and I asked you, what
+disproportion of force could suggest a doubt of success?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+As he spoke, the door of the room was suddenly opened, and a young man,
+with dress all disordered, and the fragment of a hat in his hand, entered.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;What, Massingbred!&rdquo; cried one, &ldquo;how came you to be so roughly handled?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;So much for popular politeness!&rdquo; exclaimed the Russian, as he took up the
+tattered remains of a dress-coat, and exhibited it to the others.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Pardon me, Prince,&rdquo; replied Massingbred, as he filled a glass of water
+and drank it off, &ldquo;this courtesy I received at the hands of the military.
+I was turning my cab from the Boulevard to enter this street, when a
+hoarse challenge of a sentry, saying I know not what, attracted my
+attention. I drew up short to learn, and then suddenly came a rush of the
+people from behind, which terrified my horse, and set him off at speed;
+the uproar increasing, the affrighted animal dashed madly onward, the
+crowd flying on every side, when suddenly a bullet whizzed past my head,
+cutting my hat in two; a second, at the same instant, struck my horse, and
+killed him on the spot, cab and all rolling over as he fell. How I arose,
+gained my legs, and was swept away by the dense torrent of the populace,
+are events of which I am very far from clear. I only know that although
+the occurrence happened within half an hour ago, it seems to <i>me</i> an
+affair of days since.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You were, doubtless, within some line of outposts when first challenged,&rdquo;
+ said the Pole, &ldquo;and the speed at which you drove was believed to be an
+arranged plan of attack, for you say the mob followed you.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Very possibly your explanation is the correct one,&rdquo; said Massingbred,
+coolly; &ldquo;but I looked for more steadiness and composure from the troops,
+while I certainly did not anticipate so much true courtesy and kindness as
+I met with from the people.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Parbleu! here's Massingbred becoming Democrat,&rdquo; said one. &ldquo;The next thing
+we shall hear is his defence of a barricade.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You'll assuredly not hear that I attacked one in such company as
+inflicted all this upon me,&rdquo; rejoined he, with an easy smile.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Here's the man to captivate your 'Belle Irlandaise,' Martin,&rdquo; cried one.
+&ldquo;Already is he a hero and a martyr to Royal cruelty.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Ah! you came too late to hear that,&rdquo; said the Pole, in a whisper to
+Massingbred; &ldquo;but it seems La Henderson became quite a Charlotte Corday
+this evening, and talked more violent Republicanism than has been heard in
+a salon since the days of old Égalité.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;All lights must be extinguished, gentlemen,&rdquo; said the waiter, entering
+hastily. &ldquo;The street is occupied by troops, and you must pass out by the
+Rue de Grenelle.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Are the mobs not dispersing, then?&rdquo; asked the Russian.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;No, your Highness. They have beaten back the troops from the Quai
+Voltaire, and are already advancing on the Louvre.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;What absurdity!&rdquo; exclaimed the Pole. &ldquo;If the troops permit this, there is
+treason amongst them.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I can answer for it there is terror, at least,&rdquo; said Massingbred. &ldquo;All
+the high daring and spirit is with what you would call the Sans-culottes.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;That a man should talk this way because he has lost a cab-horse!&rdquo; cried
+the Pole, insolently.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;There are men who can bear the loss of a country with more equanimity,&mdash;I
+know that,&rdquo; whispered Massingbred in his ear, with all the calm sternness
+of an insult.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You mean this for <i>me?</i>&rdquo; said the Pole, in a low voice.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Of course I do,&rdquo; was the answer.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Where?&mdash;when?&mdash;how?&rdquo; muttered the Pole, in suppressed passion.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I leave all at your disposal,&rdquo; said Massingbred, smiling at the other's
+effort to control his rage.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;At Versailles,&mdash;to-morrow morning,&mdash;pistols.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Massingbred bowed, and turned away. At the same instant the waiter entered
+to say that the house must be cleared at once, or all within it consent to
+remain close prisoners.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Come along, Martin,&rdquo; said Massingbred, taking his arm. &ldquo;I shall want you
+to do me a favor. Let us make our escape by the Rue de Grenelle, and I 'll
+engage to pilot you safely to your own quarters.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Has anything passed between you and Czernavitz?&rdquo; asked Martin, as they
+gained the street.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;A slight exchange of civilities which requires an exchange of shots,&rdquo;
+ said Jack, calmly.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;By George! I 'm sorry for it. He can hit a franc-piece at thirty paces.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;So can I, Martin; and, what's more, Anatole knows it. He's as brave as a
+lion, and it is my confounded skill has pushed him on to this
+provocation.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;He 'll shoot you,&rdquo; muttered Martin, in a half revery.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Not impossible,&rdquo; said Massingbred. &ldquo;He's a fellow who cannot conceal his
+emotions, and will show at once what he means to do.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Well, what of that?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Simply, that if he intends mischief I shall know it, and send a bullet
+through his heart.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Little as Martin had seen of Massingbred,&mdash;they were but Club
+acquaintances of a few weeks back,&mdash;he believed that he was one of
+those smart, versatile men who, with abundance of social ability, acquire
+reputation for higher capacity than they possess; but, above all, he never
+gave him credit for anything like a settled purpose or a stern resolution.
+It was, then, with considerable astonishment that he now heard him avow
+this deadly determination with all the composure that could vouch for its
+sincerity. There was, however, little time to think of these things. The
+course they were driven to follow, by by-streets and alleys, necessitated
+a long and difficult way. The great thoroughfares which they crossed at
+intervals were entirely in the possession of the troops, who challenged
+them as they approached, and only suffered them to proceed when well
+satisfied with their account. The crowds had all dispersed, and to the
+late din and tumult there had succeeded the deep silence of a city sunk in
+sleep, only broken by the hoarse call of the sentinels, or the distant
+tramp of a patrol.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;It is all over, I suppose,&rdquo; said Martin. &ldquo;The sight of the eight-pounders
+and the dark caissons has done the work.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I don't think so,&rdquo; said Massingbred, &ldquo;nor do the troops think so. These
+mobs are not like ours in England, who, with plenty of individual courage,
+are always poltroons in the mass. These fellows understand fighting as an
+art, know how to combine their movements, arrange the modes of attack or
+defence, can measure accurately the means of resistance opposed to them,
+and, above all, understand how to be led,&mdash;something far more
+difficult than it seems. In <i>my</i> good borough of Oughterard,&mdash;or
+yours, rather, Martin, for I have only a loan of it,&mdash;a few soldiers&mdash;the
+army, as they would call them&mdash;would sweep the whole population
+before them. Our countrymen can get up a row, these fellows can accomplish
+a revolt,&mdash;there's the difference.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And have they any real, substantial grievance that demands such an
+expiation?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Who knows?&rdquo; said he, laughingly. &ldquo;There never was a Government too bad to
+live under,&mdash;there never was one exempt from great vices. Half the
+political disturbances the world has witnessed have arisen from causes
+remote from State Government; a deficient harvest, a dear loaf, the
+liberty of the Press invaded,&mdash;a tyranny always resented by those who
+can't read,&mdash;are common causes enough. But here we are now at the
+Place Vendôme, and certainly one should say the odds are against the
+people.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Massingbred said truly. Two battalions of infantry, with a battery of guns
+in position, were flanked by four squadrons of Cuirassiers, the formidable
+array filling the entire &ldquo;Place,&rdquo; and showing by their air and attitude
+their readiness for any eventuality. A chance acquaintance with one of the
+staff enabled Massingbred and Martin to pass through their lines and
+arrive at their hotel.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Remember,&rdquo; said the officer who accompanied them, &ldquo;that you are close
+prisoners now. My orders are that nobody is to leave the Place under any
+pretext.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Why, you can scarcely suspect that the Government has enemies in this
+aristocratic quarter?&rdquo; said Massingbred, smiling.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;We have them everywhere,&rdquo; was the brief answer, as he bowed and turned
+away.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I scarcely see how I'm to keep my appointment at Versailles to-morrow
+morning,&rdquo; said Massingbred, as he followed Martin up the spacious stairs.
+&ldquo;Happily, Czernavitz knows me, and will not misinterpret my absence.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Not to say that he may be unable himself to get there,&rdquo; said Martin. As
+he spoke, they had reached the door, opening which with his key, the
+Captain motioned to Massingbred to enter.
+</p>
+<p>
+Massingbred stopped suddenly, and in a voice of deep meaning said, &ldquo;Your
+father lives here?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yes,&mdash;what then?&rdquo; asked Martin.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Only that I have no right to pass his threshold,&rdquo; said the other, in a
+low voice. &ldquo;I was his guest once, and I 'm not sure that I repaid the
+hospitality as became me. You were away at the time.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You allude to that stupid election affair,&rdquo; said Martin. &ldquo;I can only say
+that I never did, never could understand it. My only feeling was one of
+gratitude to you for saving me from being member for the borough. Come
+along,&rdquo; said he, taking his arm; &ldquo;this is no time for your scruples, at
+all events.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;No, Martin, I cannot,&rdquo; said the other. &ldquo;I 'd rather walk up to one of
+those nine-pounders there than present myself to your lady-mother&mdash;&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;But you needn't. You are <i>my</i> guest; these are <i>my</i> quarters.
+You shall see nobody but myself till you leave this. Remember what the
+Captain told us; we are prisoners here.&rdquo; And without waiting for a reply,
+Martin pushed him before him into the room.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Two o'clock,&rdquo; said Massingbred, looking at his watch; &ldquo;and we are to be
+at Versailles by eight.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Well, leave all the care of that to me,&rdquo; said Martin; &ldquo;and do you throw
+yourself on the bed there, and take some rest. Without you prefer to sup
+first?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;No, an hour's sleep is what I stand most in need of; and so I 'll say
+good-night.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Massingbred said this less that he wanted repose than a brief interval to
+be alone with his own thoughts. And now, as he closed his eyes to affect
+sleep, it was really to commune with his own heart, and reflect over what
+had just occurred.
+</p>
+<p>
+Independently that he liked Czernavitz personally, he was sorry for a
+quarrel at such a moment. There was a great game about to be played, and a
+mere personal altercation seemed something small and contemptible in the
+face of such events. &ldquo;What will be said of us,&rdquo; thought he, &ldquo;but that we
+were a pair of hot-headed fools, thinking more of a miserable interchange
+of weak sarcasms than of the high destinies of a whole nation? And it was
+<i>my</i> fault,&rdquo; added he to himself; &ldquo;I had no right to reproach him
+with a calamity hard enough to bear, even without its being a reproach.
+What a strange thing is life, after all!&rdquo; thought he; &ldquo;everything of
+greatest moment that occurs in it the upshot of an accident,&mdash;my
+going to Ireland, my visit to the West, my election, my meeting with Kate
+Henderson, and now this duel.&rdquo; And, so ruminating, he dropped off into a
+sound sleep, undisturbed by sounds that might well have broken the
+heaviest slumber.
+</p>
+<p>
+<a name="link2HCH0008" id="link2HCH0008">
+<!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+</p>
+<div style="height: 4em;">
+<br /><br /><br /><br />
+</div>
+<h2>
+CHAPTER VIII. AN EVENING OF ONE OP THE &ldquo;THREE DAYS&rdquo;
+ </h2>
+<p>
+On the evening which witnessed these events Lady Dorothea's &ldquo;reception&rdquo;
+ had been more than usually brilliant. Numbers had come to show of how
+little moment they deemed this &ldquo;street disturbance,&rdquo; as they were pleased
+to call it; others, again, were curious to pick up in society the opinions
+formed on what was passing, among whom were several high in the favor of
+the Court and the confidence of the Government. All, as they arrived, had
+some little anecdote or adventure to relate as to the difficulties which
+beset them on the way,&mdash;the distances which they were obliged to
+travel, the obstructions and passwords and explanations which met them at
+every turn. These were all narrated in the easy, jocular tone of passing
+trifles, the very inconvenience of which suggested its share of amusement.
+</p>
+<p>
+As the evening wore on, even these became less frequent; the streets were
+already thinning, and, except in some remote, unimportant parts of the
+capital, the troops were in possession of all the thoroughfares. Of
+course, the great topic of conversation was the bold stroke of policy then
+enacting,&mdash;a measure which all pronounced wise and just, and
+eminently called for.
+</p>
+<p>
+To have heard the sentiments then uttered, the disparaging opinions
+expressed of the middle and humbler classes, the hopelessness of ever
+seeing them sufficiently impressed with their own inferiority, the
+adulation bestowed on the monarch and all around him, one might really
+have fancied himself back again at the Tuileries in the time of Louis the
+Fourteenth. All agreed in deeming the occasion an excellent one to give
+the people a salutary lesson; and it was really pleasant to see the warm
+interest taken by these high and distinguished persons in the fortunes of
+their less happy countrymen.
+</p>
+<p>
+To Lady Dorothea's ears no theme could be more grateful; and she moved
+from group to group, delighted to mingle her congratulations with those
+around, and exchange her hopes and aspirations and wishes with theirs.
+Kate Henderson, upon whom habitually devolved the chief part in these
+&ldquo;receptions,&rdquo; was excited and flurried in manner; a more than ordinary
+effort to please being dashed, as it were, by some secret anxiety, and the
+expectation of some coming event. Had there been any one to watch her
+movements, he might have seen the eagerness with which she listened to
+each new account of the state of the capital, and how impatiently she
+drank in the last tidings from the streets; nor less marked was the
+expression of proud scorn upon her features, as she heard the insulting
+estimate of the populace, and the vainglorious confidence in the soldiery.
+But more than all these was her haughty indignation as she listened to the
+confused, mistaken opinions uttered on every side as to the policy of the
+Government and the benevolent intentions of the king. Once, and only once,
+did she forget the prudent resolve she wished to impose upon herself; but
+temper and caution and reserve gave way, as she heard a very distinguished
+person amusing a circle around him by an unfair and unfaithful portraiture
+of the great leaders of '92. It was then, when stung by the odious epithet
+of <i>canaille</i> applied to those for whose characters she entertained a
+deep devotion, that she forgot everything, and in a burst of indignant
+eloquence overwhelmed and refuted the speaker. This was the moment, too,
+in which she replied to Villemart by a word of terrible ferocity. Had the
+red cap of Liberty itself been suddenly hoisted in that brilliant
+assemblage, the dread and terror which arose could scarcely have been
+greater.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Where are we?&rdquo; cried the Marquise de Longueville. &ldquo;I thought we were in
+the Place de Vendôme, and I find myself in the Faubourg St. Antoine!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Does my Lady know that her friend and confidante is a Girondist of the
+first water?&rdquo; said an ex-Minister.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Who could have suspected the spirit of Marat under the mask of Ninon de
+l'Enclos?&rdquo; muttered Villemart.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;What is this I hear, dearest Kate?&rdquo; cried the Duchesse de Mirecourt, as
+she drew the young girl's arm within her own. &ldquo;They tell me you have
+terrified every one,&mdash;that Madame de Soissons has gone home ill, and
+the old Chevalier de Gardonnes has sent for his confessor.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I have been very rash, very foolish,&rdquo; said Kate, as a deadly pallor came
+over her; &ldquo;but I could bear it no longer. Besides, what does it matter?
+They 'll hear worse, and bear it too, before three days are over.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Then it is all true?&rdquo; cried the Duchess, eagerly. &ldquo;You told Villemart
+that when the Government spoke with grape-shot, the people replied with
+the guillotine!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Not exactly,&rdquo; said Kate, with a faint smile. &ldquo;But are they all going?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Of course they are. You have frightened them almost to death; and I know
+you only meant it for jest,&mdash;one of those little half-cruel jests you
+were ever fond of. Come with me and say so,&mdash;come, dearest.&rdquo; And she
+drew her, as she spoke, into the crowded salon, now already a scene of
+excited leave-taking. The brilliant company, however, fell back as they
+came forward, and an expression of mingled dismay and compassion was
+turned towards the young Duchess, who with a kind of heroic courage drew
+Kate's arm closer within her own.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I am come to make an explanation, messieurs et mesdames,&rdquo; said the
+Duchess, with her most captivating smile; &ldquo;pray vouchsafe me a hearing. My
+friend&mdash;my dearest, best friend here&mdash;has, in a moment of
+sportive pleasantry, suffered herself to jest&mdash;&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;It was a jest, then?&rdquo; broke in Madame de Longueville, haughtily.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Just as that is,&rdquo; replied Kate, lifting her hand and pointing in the
+direction whence came a terrible crash of artillery, followed by the
+rattle of musketry.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Let us go,&mdash;let us away!&rdquo; was now heard in affrighted accents on
+every side; and the splendid assemblage, with less of ceremony than might
+be expected, began to depart. Lady Dorothea alone was ignorant of what had
+occurred, and witnessed this sudden leave-taking with amazement. &ldquo;You are
+surely not afraid?&rdquo; said she to one; &ldquo;there is nothing serious in all
+this.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;She has told us the reverse, my Lady,&rdquo; was the reply. &ldquo;We should be
+compromised to remain longer in her company.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Adieu, my Lady. I wish we left you in safer companionship.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Farewell, Madame, and pray be warned of your danger,&rdquo; whispered another.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Your Ladyship may be called upon to acquit debts contracted by another,
+if Mademoiselle continues a member of your family,&rdquo; said Villemart, as he
+bowed his departure.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Believe me, Madame, none of us include <i>you</i> in the terrible
+sentiments we have listened to.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+These, and a vast number of similar speeches attended the leave-taking of
+nearly each of her guests, till Lady Dorothea, confused, almost stunned by
+reiterated shocks, sat silently accepting these mysterious announcements,
+and almost imagining herself in all the bewilderment of a dream.
+</p>
+<p>
+Twice she made an effort to ask some explanation, but failed; and it was
+only as the Duchesse de Mirecourt drew nigh to say farewell, that in a
+faint, weak voice she said,&mdash;&ldquo;Can you tell me what all are hinting
+at, or am I only confusing myself with the terrible scenes without?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I 'd have prevented it had I been near. I only heard it when too late, my
+Lady,&rdquo; said the Duchess, sorrowfully.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Prevented what?&mdash;heard what?&rdquo; cried Lady Dorothea.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Besides, she has often said as much amongst ourselves; we only laughed,
+as indeed every one would do now, did not events present so formidable an
+aspect.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Who is she you speak of? Tell me, I beseech you. What does this mean?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I am the culprit, my Lady,&rdquo; said Kate, approaching with all the quiet
+stateliness of her peculiar manner. &ldquo;I have routed this gorgeous assembly,
+shocked your most distinguished guests, and horrified all whose sentiments
+breathe loyalty! I am sincerely sorry for my offence; and it is a grave
+one.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;<i>You&mdash;you</i> have dared to do this?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Too true, madam,&rdquo; rejoined Kate.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;How and to whom have you had the insolence&mdash;&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+She stopped, overcome by passion; and Kate replied,&mdash;&ldquo;To all who
+pleased to listen, my Lady, I have said what doubtless is not often
+uttered in such choice company, but what, if I mistake not greatly, their
+ears will grow familiar with erelong.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Nay, nay,&rdquo; said the Duchess, in a tone of apology, &ldquo;the matter is not so
+serious as all this. Every one now is terrified. This disturbance, the
+soldiery, the vast crowds that beset the streets, have all produced so
+much excitement that even a few words spoken at random are enough to cause
+fear. It is one of Kate's fancies to terrorize thus over weak minds. She
+has the cruel triumph of not knowing what fear is. In a word, it is a mere
+trifling event, sure to be forgotten in the midst of such scenes as we are
+passing through.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+This attempt at explanation, poured forth with rapid utterance, did not
+produce on Lady Dorothea the conviction it was intended to impose, and her
+Ladyship received the last adieus of the Duchess with a cold and stately
+formality; and then, as the door closed after her, turned to Kate
+Henderson, and said,&mdash;&ldquo;I want <i>your</i> explanation of all this.
+Let me have it.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;It is easily given, my Lady,&rdquo; said Kate, calmly. And then, in a voice
+that never trembled nor varied, she narrated briefly the scene which had
+just occurred, not extenuating in the slightest her own share in the
+transaction, or offering a single syllable of excuse.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And you, being who and what you are, dared thus to outrage the best blood
+of France!&rdquo; exclaimed Lady Dorothea, trembling all over with passion.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Perhaps, my Lady, if I sought for an apology, it would be in the fact of
+being who and what I am.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And do you imagine that after conduct such as this, after exposing me to
+a partnership in the shame that attaches to yourself, that you are any
+longer to enjoy the shelter of my roof?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;It never occurred to me to think of that, madam,&rdquo; said Kate, with an
+ill-repressed scorn.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Then it is for <i>me</i> to remind you of it,&rdquo; said her Ladyship,
+sternly. &ldquo;You shall, first of all, write me an humble apology for this
+vulgar tirade, this outrage upon my company, and then you shall leave the
+house. Sit down there, and write as I shall dictate to you.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Kate seated herself with an air of implicit obedience at a writing-table,
+and took up a pen.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Write,&rdquo; cried Lady Dorothea, sternly. &ldquo;Begin, 'My Lady.' No. 'I approach
+your Ladyship for the last time.' No, not that. 'If the sincere sorrow in
+which I pen these lines.' No. Do it yourself. You best can express the
+shame your heart should feel in such a moment. Let the words be your own!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Kate leaned over the paper and wrote rapidly for a few seconds. Having
+finished, she read over the lines, and seemed to reflect on them.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Show me that paper!&rdquo; cried Lady Dorothea, impatiently. But, without
+obeying the command, Kate said,&mdash;&ldquo;Your Ladyship will not be able to
+leave Paris for at least forty hours. By that time the Monarchy will have
+run its course in France. You will probably desire, however, to escape
+from the scenes of turbulence sure to ensue. This will secure you a free
+passage, whichever road you take.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;What raving is all this?&rdquo; said Lady Dorothea, snatching the paper from
+her hand, and then reading aloud in French,&mdash; &ldquo;'The authorities are
+required to aid and tender all assistance in their power to Lady Dorothea
+Martin and all who accompany her, neither giving nor suffering any
+opposition to be given to her or them in the prosecution of their
+journey.'
+</p>
+<p>
+(Signed) &ldquo;Jules Lagrange,
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;'Minister of Police <i>ad interim</i>'
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And this in your own hand, too!&rdquo; exclaimed Lady Dorothea, contemptuously.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yes, madam; but it will entitle it to the seal of the Prefecture, and
+entitle <i>you</i> to all that it professes.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;So that I have the honor to shelter within my walls a chief of this
+insurrection,&mdash;if it be worthy of such a name; one in the confidence
+of this stupid <i>canaille</i>, who fancy that the fall of a Monarchy is
+like a row in a <i>guinguette!</i>&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Your Ladyship is no longer in a position to question me or arraign my
+actions. Before two days are over, the pageant of a king will have passed
+off the stage, and men of a different stamp take the direction of affairs.
+One of these will be he whose name I have affixed to that paper,&mdash;not
+without due warranty to do so. Your Ladyship may or may not choose to
+avail yourself of it.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I spurn the imposition,&rdquo; said Lady Dorothea, tearing it in fragments. &ldquo;So
+poor a cheat could not deceive <i>me</i>. As for yourself&mdash;&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Oh, do not bestow a thought upon <i>me</i>, my Lady. I can suffice for my
+own guidance. I only wait for morning to leave this house.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And it is to a city in such a state as this you would confide yourself.
+Truly, mademoiselle, Republicanism has a right to be proud of you. You are
+no half-convert to its principles.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Am I again to say, my Lady, that your control over me has ceased?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;It has not. It shall not cease till I have restored you to the humble
+roof from which I took you,&rdquo; said Lady Dorothea, passionately. &ldquo;Your
+father is our creature; he has no other subsistence than what we
+condescend to bestow on him. He shall know, when you re-enter his doors,
+why and for what cause you are there. Till that time come, you are, as you
+have been, in my service.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;No, my Lady, the tie between us is snapped. Dependence is but a sad part
+at the best; but so long as it is coupled with a certain show of respect
+it is bearable. Destroy <i>that</i>, and it is mere slavery, abject and
+degrading. I cannot go back to your Ladyship's service.&rdquo; And she gave to
+the last word an emphasis of intense scorn.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You must and you shall,&rdquo; said Lady Dorothea. &ldquo;If <i>you</i> are forgetful
+of what it is your duty to remember, I am not. Here you shall remain;
+without,&rdquo; added she, in an accent of supreme contempt, &ldquo;your counsel and
+direction shall be sought after by the high and mighty individuals who are
+so soon to administer the affairs of this nation.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+The loud roll of a drum, followed by the louder clank of sabres and
+musketry, here startled the speakers; and Kate, hastening to the window,
+opened it, and stepped out upon the balcony. Day was just dawning; a gray
+half-light covered the sky, but the dark shadows of the tall houses still
+stretched over the Place. Here, now, the troops were all in motion; a
+sudden summons having roused them to form in rank. The hasty character of
+the movement showed that some emergency was imminent,&mdash;a fact
+confirmed by the frequent arrival and departure of orderlies at full
+speed.
+</p>
+<p>
+After a brief interval of preparation the infantry formed in column, and,
+followed by the artillery and cavalry, moved out of the Place at a quick
+step. The measured tramp of the foot-soldiers, the clattering noise of the
+train and the dragoons could be heard long after they had passed out of
+sight; and Kate stood listening eagerly as to what would come next, when
+suddenly a man in plain clothes rode hastily from one of the side-streets
+into the centre of the Place. He looked around him for a moment or two,
+and then disappeared. Within a few seconds after, a dull, indistinct sound
+seemed to rise from the ground, which swelled gradually louder and louder,
+and at last grew into the regular footfall of a great multitude moving in
+measured time; and now a vast crowd poured into the Place, silent and
+wordless. On they came from the various quarters that opened into the
+square,&mdash;men, for the most part clad in blouses or in the coarse garb
+of laborers. They were armed either with musket or sword, and in many
+instances wore the cross-belt of the soldier. They proceeded at once to
+barricade the square at its opening into the Rue de la Paix,&mdash;a work
+which they accomplished with astonishing speed and regularity; for, while
+Kate still looked, a formidable rampart was thrown up across the entire
+street, along which a line of armed men was stationed, every one of whom,
+by his attitude and gesture, betrayed the old discipline of a soldier's
+life. Orders were given and obeyed, movements made, and dispositions
+effected, with all the regularity and precision of regular troops; and by
+the ready obedience of all, and the steady attitude observed, it was easy
+to see that these men were trained to arms and to habits of discipline.
+Not less evident was it that they who commanded them were not new to such
+duties. But, more important than all such signs was the fact that here and
+there through the mass might be seen the uniform of a soldier, or the
+epaulette of an officer, showing that desertion to the ranks of the people
+had already begun.
+</p>
+<p>
+Kate was so occupied in attentive observation of the scene that she had
+not noticed the arrival of another person in the apartment, and whose
+voice now suddenly attracted her. It was Martin himself, hastily aroused
+from his bed by his servant, who in great alarm told him that the capital
+was in open revolt, the king's troops beaten back, and the people
+victorious everywhere. &ldquo;There 's not a moment to lose,&rdquo; cried he; &ldquo;we must
+escape while we can. The road to Versailles is yet in possession of the
+troops, and we can take that way.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Lady Dorothea, partly overcome by the late scene, partly stunned by the
+repeated shocks she experienced, made no reply whatever; and Martin,
+judging from the expression of her features the anxiety she was suffering,
+hastily added, &ldquo;Let me see Kate Henderson,&mdash;where is she?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Lady Dorothea merely pointed towards the balcony, but did not utter a
+word.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Oh, have I found you?&rdquo; said Martin, stepping out upon the balcony. &ldquo;You
+see what is doing,&mdash;I might say what is done,&rdquo; added he; &ldquo;for I
+believe the game is well-nigh decided. Nothing but an overwhelming force
+will now crush this populace. We must get away, and at once. Will you give
+the orders? Send for post-horses; tell them to pack up whatever they can,&mdash;direct
+everything, in fact. My Lady is too ill,&mdash;too much overcome to act,
+or think of anything. Our whole reliance is upon you.&rdquo; While he was yet
+uttering these broken, disjointed sentences, he had drawn Kate by the arm
+within the room, and now stood beside Lady Dorothea's chair. Her Ladyship
+raised her head and fixed her eyes upon Kate, who sustained the gaze
+calmly and steadily, nor by the slightest movement displayed one touch of
+any emotion. The glance, at first haughty and defiant, seemed at length to
+grow weaker under the unmoved stare of the young girl, and finally she
+bent down her head and sat as though overcome.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Come, Dora,&rdquo; said Martin, kindly, &ldquo;rouse yourself; you are always equal
+to an effort when necessity presses. Tell Kate here what you wish, and she
+'ll do it.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I want no aid,&mdash;no assistance, sir. Miss Henderson is her own
+mistress,&mdash;she may do what, or go where she pleases.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Martin made a sign to Kate not to mind what he believed to be the mere
+wandering of an over-excited brain; and then bending down over the chair,
+said, &ldquo;Dear Dora, we must be active and stirring; the people will soon be
+masters of the capital,&mdash;for a while, at least,&mdash;and there is no
+saying what excesses they will commit.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Do not offend Miss Henderson, sir,&rdquo; interposed Lady Dorothea; &ldquo;she has
+equal confidence in their valor and their virtue.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;What does this mean?&mdash;when did she fall into this state?&rdquo; asked he,
+eagerly. And although only spoken in a whisper, Lady Dorothea overheard
+them, and said,&mdash;&ldquo;Let <i>her</i> tell you. She can give you the very
+fullest explanation.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;But, Dora, this is no time for trifling; we are here, in the midst of an
+enraged populace and a maddened soldiery. There, listen!&mdash;that was
+artillery; and now, hear!&mdash;the bells of the churches are sounding the
+alarm.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;They are ringing the knell of the Monarchy!&rdquo; said Kate, solemnly.
+</p>
+<p>
+A hoarse, wild shout&mdash;aery like that of enraged wild beasts&mdash;arose
+from the Place beneath, and all rushed to the window to see what had
+occurred. It was a charge of heavy cavalry endeavoring to force the
+barricade; and now, vigorously repulsed by the defenders, men and horses
+were rolling on the ground in terrible confusion, while on the barricade
+itself a hand-to-hand conflict was raging.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Sharp work, by George!&rdquo; said a voice behind Kate's shoulder. She turned
+and saw Captain Martin, who had just joined them unobserved.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I thought you many a mile away,&rdquo; said Kate, in a whisper.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;So I should have been,&rdquo; replied he, in the same tone, &ldquo;but I was n't
+going to lose this. I knew it was to come off to-day, and I thought it
+would have been a thousand pities to be absent.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And are your wishes, then, with these gallant fellows?&rdquo; said she,
+eagerly. &ldquo;Do I hear you aright, that it was to aid them you remained?
+There! see how they bear down on the soldiery; they will not be
+restrained; they are crossing the barricade, and charging with the
+bayonet. It is only for liberty that men can fight thus. Oh that I were a
+man, to be amongst them!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+A stray shot from beneath here struck the architrave above their heads,
+and sent down a mass of plaster over them.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Come, Dora, this is needless peril,&rdquo; said Martin, drawing her within the
+room. &ldquo;If you will not leave this, at least do not expose yourself
+unnecessarily.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;But it is exactly to get away&mdash;to escape while there is time&mdash;that
+I came for,&rdquo; said the Captain. &ldquo;They tell me that the mob are getting the
+best of it, and, worse again, that the troops are joining them; so, to
+make sure, I 've sent off Fenton to the post for horses, and I 'm
+expecting him every moment. But here he is. Well, have you got the
+horses?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;No, sir: the horses have all been taken by the people to mount orderlies;
+the postmaster, too, has fled, and everything is in confusion. But if we
+had horses the streets are impassable; from here to the Boulevard there
+are no less than five barricades.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Then what is to be done?&rdquo; cried Martin.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;They say, sir,&rdquo; replied Fenton, &ldquo;that by gaining the outer Boulevard on
+foot, carriages and horses are easily found there, to reach Belleville,
+St. Germain, or Versailles.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;He is right,&rdquo; said the Captain; &ldquo;there is nothing else to be done. What
+do <i>you</i> think?&rdquo; said he, addressing Kate, who stood intently
+watching the movements in the Place beneath.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yes; do you agree with this plan?&rdquo; asked Martin, approaching her.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Look!&rdquo; cried she, eagerly, and not heeding the question; &ldquo;the troops are
+rapidly joining the people,&mdash;they come in numbers now,&mdash;and
+yonder is an officer in his uniform.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Shame on him!&rdquo; exclaimed Lady Dorothea, indignantly.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;So say I too,&rdquo; said Kate. &ldquo;He who wears a livery should not assume the
+port and bearing of a free man. This struggle is for liberty, and should
+only be maintained by the free!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;How are we to pass these barricades?&rdquo; cried Martin, anxiously.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I will be your guide, sir, if that be all,&rdquo; said Kate. &ldquo;You may trust me.
+I promise no more than I can perform.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;She speaks truly,&rdquo; said Lady Dorothea. &ldquo;Alas that we should see the day
+when we cannot reject the aid!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;There is a matter I want to speak to you about,&rdquo; said Martin, drawing his
+father aside, and speaking in a low, confidential tone. &ldquo;Massingbred&mdash;Jack
+Massingbred&mdash;is now here, in my room. I know all about my mother's
+dislike to him, and <i>he</i> knows it; indeed, he has as much as owned to
+me that he deserved it all. But what is to be done? We cannot leave him
+here.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;How came he to be here?&rdquo; asked Martin.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;He accompanied me from the Club, where, in an altercation of some sort,
+he had just involved himself in a serious quarrel. He came here to be
+ready to start this morning for Versailles, where the meeting was to take
+place; but indeed he had no thought of accepting shelter under our roof;
+and when he found where he was, it was with the greatest difficulty I
+could persuade him to enter. None of us anticipated such a serious turn of
+affairs as this; and now, of course, a meeting will be scarcely possible.
+What are we to do with him?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Ask him frankly to join us if we obtain the horses.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;But my mother?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I 'll speak to her,&mdash;but it were better you did it, Harry. These are
+not times to weigh scruples and balance difficulties. I don't myself think
+that Massingbred treated us fairly, but it is not now I 'd like to
+remember it. There, go; tell her what you have told me, and all will be
+well.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+The Captain drew nigh Lady Dorothea, and, leaning over her chair,
+whispered to her for some minutes. At first, a slight gesture of
+impatience burst from her, but afterwards she seemed to hear him calmly
+and tranquilly.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;It would seem as though the humiliations of this night are never to have
+an end,&rdquo; said she, with a sigh. &ldquo;But I'll bear my share of them.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Remember,&rdquo; said the other, &ldquo;that it was by no choice of <i>his</i> he
+came here. His foot was on the threshold before he suspected it.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Miss Henderson sent me, my Lady,&rdquo; said a servant, entering hastily, &ldquo;to
+say that there is not a minute to be lost. They are expecting an attack on
+the barricade in the Rue de la Paix, and we ought to pass through at
+once.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;By whose orders?&rdquo; began she, haughtily; then, checking herself suddenly,
+and in a voice weak and broken, added: &ldquo;I am ready. Give me your arm,
+Harry, and do not leave me. Where is Mr. Martin?&rdquo; asked she.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;He is waiting for your Ladyship at the foot of the stairs with another
+gentleman,&rdquo; said the servant.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;That must be Massingbred, for I told them to call him,&rdquo; said the Captain.
+</p>
+<p>
+When Lady Dorothea, supported by the arm of her son, had reached the gate,
+she found Martin and Massingbred standing to receive them, surrounded by a
+numerous escort of servants, each loaded with some portion of the family
+baggage.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;A hasty summons, sir,&rdquo; said she, addressing Massingbred, and thus
+abruptly avoiding the awkwardness of a more ceremonious meeting. &ldquo;A few
+hours back none of us anticipated anything like this. Will it end
+seriously, think you?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;There is every prospect of such, madam,&rdquo; said he, bowing respectfully to
+her salutation. &ldquo;Every moment brings fresh tidings of defection among the
+troops, while the Marshal is paralyzed by contradictory orders.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Is it always to be the fate of monarchy to be badly served in times of
+peril?&rdquo; said she, bitterly.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;It is very difficult to awaken loyalty against one's convictions of
+right, madam. I mean,&rdquo; added he, as a gesture of impatience broke from
+her, &ldquo;that these acts of the king, having no support from his real
+friends, are weak stimulants to evoke deeds of daring and courage.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;They are unworthy supporters of a Crown who only defend what they approve
+of. This is but Democracy at best, and smacks of the policy which has
+little to lose and everything to gain by times of trouble.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And yet, madam, such cannot be the case here; at least, it is assuredly
+not so in the instance of him who is now speaking with Miss Henderson.&rdquo;
+ And he pointed to a man who, holding the bridle of his horse on his arm,
+walked slowly at Kate's side in the street before the door.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And who is he?&rdquo; asked she, eagerly.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;The greatest banker in Paris, madam,&mdash;one of the richest capitalists
+of Europe,&mdash;ready to resign all his fortune in the struggle against a
+rule which he foresees intended to bring back the days of a worn-out,
+effete monarchy, rather than a system which shall invigorate the nation,
+and enrich it by the arts of commerce and trade.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;But his name&mdash;who is he?&rdquo; asked she, more impatiently.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Charles Lagrange, madam.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I have heard the name before. I have seen it somewhere lately,&rdquo; said she,
+trying to remember where and how.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You could scarcely have paid your respects at Neuilly, madam, without
+seeing him. He was, besides, the favored guest at Madame de Mirecourt's.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You would not imply, sir, that the Duchess condescended to any sympathy
+with this party?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;More than half the Court, madam, are against the Crown; I will not say,
+however, that they are, on that account, for the people.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;There! she is making a sign to us to follow her,&rdquo; said Martin, pointing
+towards Kate, who, still conversing with her companion, motioned to the
+others to come up.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;It is from that quarter we receive our orders,&rdquo; said Lady Dorothea,
+sneeringly, as she prepared to follow.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;What has she to do with it?&rdquo; exclaimed the Captain. &ldquo;To look at her, one
+would say she was deep in the whole business.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+A second gesture, more urgent than before, now summoned the party to make
+haste.
+</p>
+<p>
+Through the Place, crowded as it was by an armed and excited multitude,
+way was rapidly made for the little party who now issued from the door of
+the hotel. Kate Henderson walked in front, with Massingbred at her side
+talking eagerly, and by his gestures seeming as though endeavoring to
+extenuate or explain away something in his conduct; next came Lady
+Dorothea, supported between her husband and her son, and while walking
+slowly and with faltering steps, still carrying her head proudly erect,
+and gazing on the stern faces around her with looks of haughty contempt.
+After them were a numerous retinue of servants, with such effects as they
+had got hurriedly together,&mdash;a terror-struck set, scarcely able to
+crawl along from fear.
+</p>
+<p>
+As they drew nigh the barricade, some men proceeded to remove a heavy
+wagon which adjoined a house, and by the speed and activity of their
+movements, urged on as they were by the orders of one in command, it might
+be seen that the operation demanded promptitude.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;We are scarcely safe in this,&rdquo; cried the officer. &ldquo;See! they are making
+signs to us from the windows,&mdash;the troops are coming. If you pass out
+now, you will be between two fires.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;There is yet time,&rdquo; said Kate, eagerly. &ldquo;Our presence in the street, too,
+will delay them, and give you some minutes to prepare. And as for
+ourselves, we shall gain one of the side-streets easily enough.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Tie your handkerchief to your cane, sir,&rdquo; said the officer to
+Massingbred.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;My flag is ready,&rdquo; said Jack, gayly; &ldquo;I only hope they may respect it.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Now&mdash;now!&rdquo; cried Kate, with eagerness, and beckoning to Lady
+Dorothea to hasten, &ldquo;the passage is free, and not a second to be lost!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Are you not coming with us?&rdquo; whispered Martin to her, as they passed out.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yes; I'll follow. But,&rdquo; added she, in a lower tone, &ldquo;were the choice
+given me, it is here I 'd take my stand.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+She looked full at Massingbred as she spoke, and, bending down his head,
+he said, &ldquo;Had it been your place, it were mine also!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Quick,&mdash;quick, my Lady,&rdquo; said Kate. &ldquo;They must close up the passage
+at once. They are expecting an attack.&rdquo; And so saying, she motioned
+rapidly to Martin to move on.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;The woman is a fiend,&rdquo; said Lady Dorothea; &ldquo;see how her eyes sparkle, and
+mark the wild exultation of her features.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Adieu, sir,&mdash;adieu!&rdquo; said Kate, waving her hand to one who seemed
+the chief of the party. &ldquo;All my wishes are with you. Were I a man, my hand
+should guarantee my heart.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Come&mdash;come back!&rdquo; cried the officer. &ldquo;You are too late. There comes
+the head of the column.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;No, never&mdash;never!&rdquo; exclamed Lady Dorothea, haughtily; &ldquo;protection
+from such as these is worse than any death.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Give me the flag, then,&rdquo; cried Kate, snatching it from Massingbred's
+hand, and hastening on before the others. And now the heavy wagon had
+fallen back to its place, and a serried file of muskets peeped over it.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Where's Massingbred?&rdquo; asked the Captain, eagerly.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yonder,&mdash;where he ought to be!&rdquo; exclaimed Kate, proudly, pointing to
+the barricade, upon which, now, Jack was standing conspicuously, a musket
+on his arm.
+</p>
+<p>
+The troops in front were not the head of a column, but the advanced guard
+of a force evidently at some distance off, and instead of advancing on the
+barricade, they drew up and halted in triple file across the street. Their
+attitude of silent, stern defiance&mdash;for it was such&mdash;evoked a
+wild burst of popular fury, and epithets of abuse and insult were heaped
+upon them from windows and parapets.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;They are the famous Twenty-Second of the Line,&rdquo; said the Captain, &ldquo;who
+forced the Pont-Neuf yesterday and drove the mob before them.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;It is fortunate for us that we fall into such hands,&rdquo; said Lady Dorothea,
+waving her handkerchief as she advanced. But Kate had already approached
+the line, and now halted at a command from the officer. While she
+endeavored to explain how and why they were there, the cries and menaces
+of the populace grew louder and wilder. The officer, a very young
+subaltern, seemed confused and flurried; his eyes turned constantly
+towards the street from which they had advanced, and he seemed anxiously
+expecting the arrival of the regiment.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I cannot give you a convoy, Mademoiselle,&rdquo; he said; &ldquo;I. scarcely know if
+I have the right to let you pass. We may be attacked at any moment; for
+aught I can tell, <i>you</i> may be in the interests of the insurgents&mdash;&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;We are cut off, Lieutenant,&rdquo; cried a sergeant, running up at the moment.
+&ldquo;They have thrown up a barrier behind us, and it is armed already.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Lay down your arms, then,&rdquo; said Kate, &ldquo;and do not sacrifice your brave
+fellows in a hopeless straggle.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Listen not to her, young man, but give heed to your honor and your
+loyalty,&rdquo; cried Lady Dorothea. &ldquo;Is it against such an enemy as this French
+soldiers fear to advance?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Forward!&rdquo; cried the officer, waving his sword above his head. &ldquo;Let us
+carry the barricade!&rdquo; And a wild yell of defiance from the windows
+repeated the speech in derision.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You are going to certain death!&rdquo; cried Kate, throwing herself before him.
+&ldquo;Let <i>me</i> make terms for you, and they shall not bring dishonor on
+you.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Here comes the regiment!&rdquo; called out the sergeant. &ldquo;They have forced the
+barricade.&rdquo; And the quick tramp of a column, as they came at a run, now
+shook the street.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Remember your cause and your King, sir,&rdquo; cried Lady Dorothea to the
+officer.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Bethink you of your country,&mdash;of France,&mdash;and of Liberty!&rdquo; said
+Kate, as she grasped his arm.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Stand back!&mdash;back to the houses!&rdquo; said he, waving his sword.
+&ldquo;Voltigeurs, to the front!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+The command was scarcely issued, when a hail of balls rattled through the
+air. The defenders of the barricade had opened their fire, and with a
+deadly precision, too, for several fell at the very first discharge.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Back to the houses!&rdquo; exclaimed Martin, dragging Lady Dorothea along, who,
+in her eagerness, now forgot all personal danger, and only thought of the
+contest before her.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Get under cover of the troops,&mdash;to the rear!&rdquo; cried the Captain, as
+he endeavored to bear her away.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Back&mdash;back&mdash;beneath the archway!&rdquo; cried Kate, as, throwing her
+arms around Lady Dorothea, she lifted her fairly from the ground, and
+carried her within the deep recess of a <i>porte cochère</i>. Scarcely,
+however, had she deposited her in safety, than she fell tottering
+backwards and sank to the ground.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Good Heavens! she is struck,&rdquo; exclaimed Martin, bending over her.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;It is nothing,&mdash;a spent shot, and no more,&rdquo; said Kate, as she showed
+the bullet which had perforated her dress beneath the arm.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;A good soldier, by Jove!&rdquo; said the Captain, gazing with real admiration
+on the beautiful features before him; the faint smile she wore heightening
+their loveliness, and contrasting happily with their pallor.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;There they go! They are up the barricade already; they are over it,&mdash;through
+it!&rdquo; cried the Captain. &ldquo;Gallantly done!&mdash;gloriously done! No, by
+Jove! they are falling back; the fire is murderous. See how they bayonet
+them. The troops must win. They move together; they are like a wall! In
+vain, in vain; they cannot do it! They are beaten,&mdash;they are lost!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Who are lost?&rdquo; said Kate, in a half-fainting voice.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;The soldiers. And there 's Massingbred on the top of the barricade, in
+the midst of it all. I see his hat They are driven back&mdash;beaten&mdash;beaten!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Come in quickly,&rdquo; cried a voice from behind; and a small portion of the
+door was opened to admit them. &ldquo;The soldiers are retiring, and will kill
+all before them.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Let <i>me</i> aid you; it is <i>my</i> turn now,&rdquo; said Lady Dorothea,
+assisting Kate to rise. &ldquo;Good Heavens! her arm is broken,&mdash;it is
+smashed in two.&rdquo; And she caught the fainting girl in her arms.
+</p>
+<p>
+Gathering around, they bore her within the gate, and had but time to bar
+and bolt it when the hurried tramp without, and the wild yell of popular
+triumph, told that the soldiers were retreating, beaten and defeated.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And this to save me!&rdquo; said Lady Dorothea, as she stooped over her. And
+the scalding tears dropped one by one on Kate's cheek.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Tear this handkerchief, and bind it around my arm,&rdquo; said Kate, calmly;
+&ldquo;the pain is not very great, and there will be no bleeding, the doctors
+say, from a gun-shot wound.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I'll be the surgeon,&rdquo; said the Captain, addressing himself to the task
+with more of skill than might be expected. &ldquo;I 've seen many a fellow
+struck down who did n't bear it as calmly,&rdquo; muttered he, as he bent over
+her. &ldquo;Am I giving you any pain?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Not in the least; and if I were in torture, that glorious cheer outside
+would rally me. Hear!&mdash;listen!&mdash;the soldiers are in full
+retreat; the people, the noble-hearted people, are the conquerors!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Be calm, and think of yourself,&rdquo; said Lady Dorothea, mildly, to her;
+&ldquo;such excitement may peril your very life.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And it is worth a thousand lives to taste of it,&rdquo; said she, while her
+cheek flushed, and her dark eyes gleamed with added lustre.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;The street is clear now,&rdquo; said one of the servants to Martin, &ldquo;and we
+might reach the Boulevard with ease.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Let us go, then,&rdquo; said Lady Dorothea. &ldquo;Let us look to <i>her</i> and
+think of nothing till she be cared for.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+<a name="link2HCH0009" id="link2HCH0009">
+<!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+</p>
+<div style="height: 4em;">
+<br /><br /><br /><br />
+</div>
+<h2>
+CHAPTER IX. SOME CONFESSIONS OF JACK MASSINGBRED
+</h2>
+<p>
+Upon two several occasions have we committed to Jack Massingbred the task
+of conducting this truthful history; for the third time do we now purpose
+to make his correspondence the link between the past and what is to
+follow. We are not quite sure that the course we thus adopt is free from
+its share of inconvenience, but we take it to avoid the evils of
+reiteration inseparable from following out the same events from merely
+different points of view. There is also another advantage to be gained.
+Jack is before our readers; we are not. Jack is an acquaintance; we cannot
+aspire to that honor. Jack's opinions, right or wrong as they may be, are
+part and parcel of a character already awaiting their verdict. What he
+thought and felt, hoped, feared, or wished, are the materials by which he
+is to be judged; and so we leave his cause in his own hands.
+</p>
+<p>
+His letter is addressed to the same correspondent to whom he wrote before.
+It is written, too, at different intervals, and in different moods of
+mind. Like the letters of many men who practise concealment with the world
+at large, it is remarkable for great frankness and sincerity. He throws
+away his mask with such evident signs of enjoyment that we only wonder if
+he can ever resume it; but crafty men like to relax into candor, as
+royalty is said to indulge with pleasure in the chance moments of
+pretended equality. It is, at all events, a novel sensation; and even that
+much, in this routine life of ours, is something!
+</p>
+<p>
+He writes from Spa, and after some replies to matters with which we have
+no concern, proceeds thus:&mdash;
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Of the Revolution, then, and the Three Glorious Days as they are called,
+I can tell you next to nothing, and for this simple reason, that I was
+there fighting, shouting, throwing up barricades, singing the
+'Marseillaise,' smashing furniture, and shooting my 'Swiss,' like the
+rest. As to who beat the troops, forced the Tuileries, and drove Marmont
+back, you must consult the newspapers. Personal adventures I could give
+you to satiety, hairbreadth 'scapes and acts of heroism by the dozen; but
+these narratives are never new, and always tiresome. The serious
+reflectiveness sounds like humbug, and, if one treats them lightly, the
+flippancy is an offence. Jocular heroism is ever an insult to the reader.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You say, '<i>Que diable allait-il faire dans cette galère?</i>' and I
+answer, it was all <i>her</i> doing. Yes, Harry, <i>she</i> was there. I
+was thinking of nothing less in the world than a great 'blow for freedom,'
+as the 'Globe' has it. I had troubled my head wonderfully little about the
+whole affair. Any little interest I took was in the notion that if our
+'natural enemies,' the French, were to fall to and kill each other, there
+would be so much the fewer left to fight against us; but as to who was to
+get the upper hand, or what they were to do when they had it, I gave
+myself no imaginable concern. I had a vague, shadowy kind of impression
+that the government was a bad one, but I had a much stronger conviction
+that the people deserved no better. My leanings&mdash;my instincts, if you
+prefer it&mdash;were with the Crown. The mob and its sentiments are always
+repulsive. Popular enthusiasm is a great ocean, but it is an ocean of
+dirty water, and you cannot come out clean from the contact; and so I
+should have wished well to royalty, but for an accident,&mdash;a mere
+trifle in its way, but one quite sufficient, even on historic grounds, to
+account for a man's change of opinions. The troops shot my cab-horse, sent
+a bullet through poor 'Beverley,' and seriously damaged a new hat which I
+wore at the time, accompanying these acts with expressions the reverse of
+compliment or civility. I was pitched out into the gutter, and, most
+appropriately you will say, I got up a Radical, a Democrat, a Fourierist,&mdash;anything,
+in short, that shouts 'Down with Kings, and up with the Sovereign People!'
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;My principles&mdash;don't smile at the word&mdash;led me into a stupid
+altercation with a very pleasant acquaintance, and we parted to meet the
+next morning in hostility,&mdash;at least, such was our understanding; but
+by the time that our difference should have been settled, <i>I</i> was
+carried away on a stretcher to the Hôtel Dieu, wounded, and he was flung,
+a corpse, into the Seine. I intended to have been a most accurate narrator
+of events, journalizing for you, hour by hour, with all the stirring
+excitement of the present tense, but I cannot; the crash and the hubbub
+are still in my brain, and the infernal chaos of the streets is yet over
+me. Not to speak of my wound,&mdash;a very ugly sabre-cut in the neck,&mdash;severing
+I don't know what amount of nerves, arteries, and such-like 'small deer,'
+every one of which, however, has its own peculiar perils in the shape of
+aneurisms, tetanus, and so forth, in case I am not a miracle of patience,
+calmness, and composure.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;The Martins are nursing and comforting and chicken-brothing me to my
+heart's content, and La Henderson, herself an invalid, with a terrible
+broken arm, comes and reads to me from time to time. What a girl it is!
+Wounded in a street encounter, she actually carried Lady Dorothea into a
+porte-cochère, and when they had lost their heads in terror, could neither
+issue an order to the servants nor know what way to turn, she took the
+guidance of the whole party, obtained horses and carriages and an escort,
+escaped from Paris, and reached Versailles in the midst of flying
+courtiers and dismayed ministers, and actually was the very first to bring
+the tidings that the game of monarchy was up,&mdash;that the king had
+nothing left for it but an inglorious flight. To the Duchesse de
+Mire-court she made this communication, which it seems none of the
+court-followers had the courage or honesty to do before. The Duchess, in
+her terror, actually dragged her into the presence of the king, and made
+her repeat what she had said. The scene, as told me, was quite dramatic;
+the king took her hand to lead her to a seat, but it was unfortunately of
+the wounded arm, and she fainted. The sight of the wounded limb so
+affected the nerves of monarchy that he gave immediate orders to depart,
+and was off within an hour.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;How they found me out a patient in a ward of the Hôtel Dieu, rescued and
+carried me away with them, I have heard full half a dozen times, but I 'm
+far from being clear enough to repeat the story; and, indeed, when I try
+to recall the period, the only images which rise up before me are long
+ranges of white coverlids, pale faces, and groans and cries of suffering,
+with the dark curly head of a great master of torture peeping at me, and
+whom, I am told, is the Baron Dupuytren, the Surgeon-in-Chief. After these
+comes a vision of litters and <i>charrettes</i>,&mdash;sore joltings and
+stoppages to drink water&mdash;But I shall rave if I go on. Better I
+should tell you of my pleasant little bedroom here, opening on a small
+garden, with a tiny fountain trying to sprinkle the wild myrtle and
+blush-roses around it, and sportively sending its little plash over me, as
+the wind wafts it into my chamber. My luxurious chair and easy-cushioned
+sofa, and my table littered with everything, from flowers to French
+romances; not to speak of the small rustic seat beside the window, where
+she has been sitting the last hour, and has only quitted to give me time
+to write this to you. I know it&mdash;I see it&mdash;all you can say, all
+that you are saying at this moment, is fifty times more forcibly echoing
+within my own heart, and repeating in fitful sentences: 'A ruined man&mdash;a
+broken fortune&mdash;a mad attachment&mdash;a life of struggle,
+difficulty, and failure!' But why should it be failure? Such a girl for a
+wife ought in itself to be an earnest of success. Are not her qualities
+exactly those that do battle with the difficulties of fortune? Self-denial&mdash;ambition&mdash;courage&mdash;an
+intense, an intuitive knowledge of the world&mdash;and then, a
+purpose-like devotion to whatever she undertakes, that throws an air of
+heroism over all her actions.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Birth&mdash;blood&mdash;family connections&mdash;what have they done for
+me, except it be to entail upon me the necessity of selecting a career
+amidst the two or three that are supposed to suit the well-born? I may be
+a Life Guardsman, or an unpaid attaché, but I must not be a physician or a
+merchant. Nor is it alone that certain careers are closed against us, but
+certain opinions too. I must not think ill of the governing class,&mdash;I
+must never think well of the governed.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Well, Harry, the colonies are the remedy for all this. There, at least, a
+man can fashion existence as arbitrarily as he can the shape and size of
+his house. None shall dictate his etiquette, no more than his
+architecture; and I am well weary of the slavery of this old-world life,
+with our worship of old notions and old china, both because they are
+cracked, damaged, and useless. I 'll marry her. I have made up my mind on
+'t. Spare me all your remonstrances, all your mock compassion. Nor is it
+like a fellow who has not seen the world in its best gala suit, affecting
+to despise rank, splendor, and high station. <i>I have</i> seen the thing.
+I have cantered my thoroughbred along Rotten Row, eaten my truffled
+dinners in Belgravia, whispered my nonsense over the white shoulders of
+the fairest and best-born of England's daughters. I know to a decimal
+fraction the value of all these; and, what 's more, I know what one pays
+for them,&mdash;the miserable vassalage, the poor slavery of mind, soul,
+and body they cost!
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;It is the terror of exclusion here, the dread of coldness there&mdash;the
+possibility of offence to 'his Grace' on this side, or misconception by
+'her Ladyship' on that&mdash;sway and rule a man so that he may neither
+eat, drink, nor sleep without a 'Court Guide' in his pocket. I 've done
+with it! now and forever,&mdash;I tell you frankly,&mdash;I return no more
+to this bondage.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I have written a farewell address to my worthy constituents of
+Oughterard. I have told them that, 'feeling an instinct of independence
+within me, I can no longer remain their representative; that, as a man of
+honor, I shrink from the jobbery of the little borough politicians, and,
+as a gentleman, I beg to decline their intimacy.' They took me for want of
+a better&mdash;I leave them for the same reason.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;To my father I have said: 'Let us make a compromise. As your son I have a
+claim on the House. Now, what will you give for my share? I 'll neither
+importune you for place, nor embarrass you with solicitations for
+employment. Help me to stock my knapsack, and I 'll find my road myself.'
+<i>She</i> knows nothing of these steps on my part; nor shall she, till
+they have become irrevocable. She is too proud ever to consent to what
+would cost me thus heavily; but the expense once incurred,&mdash;the
+outlay made,&mdash;she cannot object to what has become the law of my
+future life.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I send off these two documents to-night; this done, I shall write to her
+an offer of marriage. What a fever I 'm in! and all because I feel the
+necessity of defending myself to <i>you</i>,&mdash;to you of all men the
+most headstrong, reckless, and self-indulgent,&mdash;a fellow who never
+curbed a caprice nor restrained a passing fancy; and yet you are just the
+man to light your cigar, and while you puff away your blue cloud, mutter
+on about rashness, folly, insanity, and the rest of it, as if the state of
+your bank account should make that wisdom in <i>you</i>, which with <i>me</i>
+is but mere madness! But I tell you, Harry, it is your very thousands per
+annum that preclude you from doing what I can. It is your house in town,
+your stud at Tattersall's, your yacht at Cowes, your grouse-lodge in the
+Highlands, that tie and fetter you to live like some scores of others,
+with whom you have n't one solitary sympathy, save in income! You are
+bound up in all the recognizances of your wealth to dine stupidly, sup
+languidly, and sink down at last into a marriage of convenience,&mdash;to
+make a wife of her whom 'her Grace' has chosen for you without a single
+speculation in the contract save the thought of the earl you will be
+allied to, and the four noble families you 'll have the right to go in
+mourning for.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And what worse than cant it is to talk of what they call an indiscreet
+match! What does&mdash;what can the world know as to the reasons that
+impel you, or me, or anybody else, to form a certain attachment? Are they
+acquainted with our secret and most hidden emotions? Do they understand
+the project of life we have planned to ourselves? Have they read our utter
+weariness and contempt for forms that <i>they</i> venerate, and social
+distinctions that <i>they</i> worship? I am aware that in some cases it
+requires courage to do this; and in doing it a man virtually throws down
+the glove to the whole world, and says, 'This woman's love is to me more
+than all of you'&mdash;and so say I at this moment. I must cry halt, I
+see, Harry. I have set these nerves at work in my wound, and the pain is
+agony. Tomorrow&mdash;to-night, if I 'm able&mdash;I shall continue.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Midnight.&rdquo; They have just wished me good-night, after having spent the
+evening here reading out the newspapers for me, commenting upon them, and
+exerting themselves to amuse me in a hundred good-natured ways. You would
+like this same stately old Lady Dorothea. She is really 'Grande Dame' in
+every respect,&mdash;dress, air, carriage, gesture, even her slow and
+measured speech is imposing, and her prejudices, uttered as they are in
+such perfect sincerity of heart, have something touching about them, and
+her sorrowful pity for the mob sounded more gracefully than Kate's
+enthusiastic estimate of their high deservings. It does go terribly
+against the grain to fancy an alliance between coarse natures and noble
+sentiments, and to believe in the native nobility of those who never touch
+soap! I have had a kind of skirmish with La Henderson upon this theme
+to-night. She was cross and out of temper, and bore my bantering badly.
+The fact is, she is utterly disgusted at the turn things have taken in
+France; and not altogether without reason, since, after all their bluster
+and bloodshed and barricades, they have gone back to a monarchy again.
+They barred out the master to make 'the head usher' top of the school. Let
+us see if he won't be as fond of the birch as his predecessor. Like all
+mutineers, they found they could n't steer the ship when they had murdered
+the captain! How hopeless it makes one of humanity to see such a spectacle
+as this, Harry, and how low is one's estimate of the species after such
+experience! You meet some half-dozen semi-bald, spectacled old gentlemen
+in society, somewhat more reserved than the rest of the company, fond of
+talking to each other, and rather distrustful of strangers; you find them
+slow conversers at dinner, sorry whist-players in the drawing-room; you
+are told, however, that one is a President of the Council, another the
+Secretary for Foreign Affairs, and a third something equally important.
+You venerate them accordingly, while you mutter the old Swede's apothegm
+about the 'small intelligences' that rule mankind. Wait awhile! There is a
+row in the streets: a pickpocket has appealed to the public to rescue him
+from the ignoble hands of the police; an escaped felon has fired at the
+judge who sentenced him, in the name of Liberty and Fraternity. No matter
+what the cause, there <i>is</i> a row. The troops are called out; some are
+beaten, some join the insurgents. The government grows frightened&mdash;temporizes&mdash;offers
+terms&mdash;and sends for more soldiers. The people&mdash;I never clearly
+knew what the word meant&mdash;the people make extravagant demands, and
+will not even give time to have them granted,&mdash;in a word, the whole
+state is subverted, the king, if there be one, in flight, the royal family
+missing, the ministers nowhere! No great loss you 'll say, if the four or
+five smooth-faced imbecilities we have spoken of are not to the fore! But
+there is your error, Harry,&mdash;your great error. These men, used to
+conduct and carry on the government, cannot be replaced. The new
+capacities do nothing but blunder, and maybe issue contradictory orders
+and impede each other's actions. To improvise a Secretary of State is
+about as wise a proceeding as to take at hazard a third-class passenger
+and set him to guide the engine of a train. The only difference is that
+the machinery of state is ten thousand times more complex than that of a
+steam-engine, and the powers for mischief and misfortune in due
+proportion.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;But why talk of these things? I have had enough and too much of them
+already this evening; women, too, are unpleasant disputants in politics.
+They attach their faith to persons, not parties. Miss Henderson is,
+besides, a little spoiled by the notice of those maxim-mongers who write
+leaders in the 'Débats, and articles for the 'Deux Mondes.' They have, or
+affect to have, a kind of pitying estimate for our English constitutional
+forms, which is rather offensive. At least, she provoked me, and I am
+relapsing into bad temper, just by thinking of it.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You tell me that you once served with Captain Martin, and I see you
+understand him; not that it requires much study to do so. You say he was
+reckoned a good officer; what a sneer is that on the art military!
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;There are, however, many suitable qualities about him, and he certainly
+possesses the true and distinctive element of a gentleman,&mdash;he knows
+how to be idle. Ay, Harry, that is a privilege that your retired banker or
+enriched cotton-spinner never attains to. They must be up and doing,&mdash;where
+there is nothing to do. They carry the spirit of the counting-house and
+the loom into society with them, and having found a pleasure in business,
+they want to make a business of pleasure. Now, Martin understands idling
+to perfection. His tea and toast, his mutton cutlet, and his mustachios
+are abundant occupation for him. With luncheon about two o'clock, he
+saunters through the stables, sucking a lighted cigar, filing his nails,
+and admiring his boots, till it 's time to ride out. He comes to me about
+nine of an evening, and we play piquet till I get sleepy; after which he
+goes to 'the rooms,' and, I believe, plays high; at least, I suspect so;
+for he has, at times, the forced calm&mdash;that semi-jocular resignation&mdash;one
+sees in a heavy loser. He has been occasionally, too, probing me about
+Merl,&mdash;you remember the fellow who had the rooms near Knightsbridge,&mdash;so
+that I opine he has been dabbling in loans. What a sorry spectacle such a
+creature as this in the toils of the Israelite, for he is the 'softest of
+the soft.' I see it from the effect La Henderson has produced upon him. He
+is in love with her,&mdash;actually in love. He even wanted to make me his
+confidant&mdash;and I narrowly escaped the confession&mdash;only yesterday
+evening. Of course, he has no suspicion of my attachment in the same
+quarter, so that it would be downright treachery in me to listen to his
+avowal. Another feeling, too, sways me, Harry,&mdash;I don't think I could
+hear a man profess admiration for the woman that I mean to marry, without
+the self-same sense of resentment I should experience were I already her
+husband. I 'm certain I 'd shoot him for it.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;La belle Kate and I parted coldly&mdash;dryly, I should call it&mdash;this
+evening. I had fancied she was above coquetry, but she is not. Is any
+woman? She certainly gave the Captain what the world would call
+encouragement all the night; listened attentively to tiresome
+tiger-huntings and stories of the new country; questioned him about his
+Mahratta campaigns, and even hinted at how much she would like an Indian
+life. Perhaps the torment she was inflicting on Lady Dorothea amused her;
+perhaps it was the irritation she witnessed in me gave the zest to this
+pastime. It is seldom that she condescends to be either amused or amusing;
+and I own it is a part does not suit her. She is a thousand times more
+attractive sitting over her embroidery-frame, raising her head at times to
+say a few words,&mdash;ever apposite and well chosen,&mdash;always simple,
+too, and to the purpose; or even by a slight gesture bearing agreement
+with what is said around her; till, with a sudden impulse, she pours forth
+fast, rapidly, and fluently some glowing sentiment of praise or censure,
+some glorious eulogy of the good, or some withering depreciation of the
+wrong. Then it is that you see how dark those eyes can be, how deep-toned
+that voice, and with what delicacy of expression she can mould and fashion
+every mood of mind, and give utterance to sentiments that till then none
+have ever known how to embody.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;It is such a descent to her to play coquette! Cleopatra cannot&mdash;should
+not be an Abigail. I am low and depressed to-night; I scarcely know why:
+indeed, I have less reason than usual for heavy-heartedness. These people
+are singularly kind and attentive to me, and seem to have totally
+forgotten how ungratefully once before I repaid their civilities. What a
+stupid mistake do we commit in not separating our public life from our
+social one, so as to show that our opinions upon measures of state are
+disconnected with all the sentiments we maintain for our private
+friendships. I detect a hundred sympathies, inconceivable points of
+contact, between these people and myself. We pass hours praising the same
+things, and abusing the same people; and how could it possibly sever our
+relations that I would endow Maynooth when they would pull it down, or
+that I liked forty-shilling freeholders better than ten-pound
+householders? You 'll say that a certain earnestness accompanies strong
+convictions, and that when a man is deeply impressed with some supposed
+truths, he 'll not measure his reprobation of those who assail them. But a
+lawyer does all this, and forfeits nothing of the esteem of 'his learned
+brother on the opposite side.' Nay, they exchange very-ugly knocks at
+times, and inflict very unseemly marks even with the gloves on; still they
+go homeward, arm-in-arm, after, and laugh heartily at both plaintiff and
+defendant. By Jove! Harry, it may sound ill, but somehow it seems as
+though to secure even a moderate share of enjoyment in this life one must
+throne Expediency in the seat of Principle. I 'll add the conclusion
+to-morrow, and now say good-night.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Three days have passed over since I wrote the last time to you, and it
+would require as many weeks were I to chronicle all that has passed
+through my mind in the interval. Events there have been few; but
+sensations&mdash;emotions, enough for a lifetime. Nor dare I recall them!
+Faintly endeavoring to trace a few broken memories, my pains of mind and
+body come back again, so that you must bear with me if I be incoherent,
+almost unintelligible.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;The day after I wrote to you, I never saw her. My Lady, who came as usual
+to visit me in the day, said something about Miss Henderson having a
+headache. Unpleasant letters from her family&mdash;obliged to give up the
+day to answering them; but all so confused and with such evident
+constraint as to show me that something disagreeable loomed in view.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;The Captain dropped in about four o'clock, and as the weather was
+unfavorable, we sat down to our party of piquet. By a little address, I
+continued to lose nearly every game, and so gradually led him into a
+conversation while we played; but I soon saw that he only knew something
+had occurred 'upstairs,' but knew not what.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;' I suspect, however,' added he, 'it is only the old question as to
+Kate's going away.' &ldquo;'Going away! Going where?' cried I.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;'Home to her father; she is resolutely bent upon it,&mdash;has been so
+ever since we left Paris. My mother, who evidently&mdash;but on what score
+I know not&mdash;had some serious difference with her, is now most eager
+to make concessions, and would stoop to&mdash;what for her is no trifle&mdash;even
+solicitation to induce her to stay, has utterly failed; so, too, has my
+father. Persuasion and entreaty not succeeding, I suspect&mdash;but it is
+only suspicion&mdash;that they have had recourse to parental authority,
+and asked old Henderson to interfere. At least, a letter has come this
+morning from the West of Ireland, for Kate, which I surmise to be in his
+hand. She gave it, immediately on reading it, to my mother, and I could
+detect in her Ladyship's face, while she perused it, unmistakable signs of
+satisfaction. When she handed it back, too, she gave a certain
+condescending smile, which, in my mother, implies victory, and seems to
+say, &ldquo;Let us be friends now,&mdash;I 'm going to signal&mdash;cease
+firing.&rdquo;'
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;'And Kate, did she make any remark&mdash;say anything?' &ldquo;'Not a syllable.
+She folded up the document, carefully and steadily, and placed it in her
+work-box, and then resumed her embroidery in silence. I watched her
+narrowly, while I affected to read the paper, and saw that she had to rip
+out half she had done. After a while my mother said,&mdash;&ldquo;'&rdquo;You 'll not
+answer that letter to-day, probably?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;'"I mean to do so, my Lady,&rdquo; said she; &ldquo;and, with your permission, will
+beg you to read my reply.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;'"Very well,&rdquo; said my mother, and left the room. I was standing outside
+on the balcony at the time, so that Kate believed, after my mother's
+departure, she was quite alone. It was then she opened the letter, and
+re-read it carefully. I never took my eyes off her; and yet what was
+passing in her mind, whether joy, grief, disappointment, or pleasure, I
+defy any man to declare; nor when, having laid it down once more, she took
+up her work, not a line or a lineament betrayed her. It was plain enough
+the letter was no pleasant one, and I expected to have heard her sigh
+perhaps, or at least show some sign of depression; but no, she went on
+calmly, and at last began to sing, in a low, faint voice, barely audible
+where I stood, one of her little barcarole songs she is so fond of; and if
+there was no sorrow in her own heart, by Jove! she made mine throb heavily
+as I listened! I stood it as long as I was able, and then coughed to show
+that I was there, and entered the room. She never lifted her head, or
+noticed me, not even when I drew a chair close to her, and sat down at her
+side.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;'I suppose, Massingbred,' said he, after a pause, 'you 'll laugh at me,
+if I tell you I was in love with the Governess! Well, I should have
+laughed too, some six months ago, if any man had prophesied it; but the
+way I put the matter to myself is this: If I do succeed to a good estate,
+I have a right to indulge my own fancy in a wife; if I don't,&mdash;that
+is, if I be a ruined man,&mdash;where 's the harm in marrying beneath me?'
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;'Quite right, admirably argued,' said I, impatiently; 'go on.'
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;'I 'm glad you agree with me,' said he, with the stupid satisfaction of
+imbecility. 'I thought I had reduced the question to its very narrowest
+bounds.'
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;'So you have; go on,' cried I.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;'"Miss Henderson,&rdquo; said I,&mdash;for I determined to show that I was
+speaking seriously, and so I did n't call her Kate,&mdash; &ldquo;Miss
+Henderson, I want to speak to you. I have been long seeking this
+opportunity; and if you will vouchsafe me a few minutes now, and hear me,
+on a subject upon which all my happiness in life depends&mdash;&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;'When I got that far, she put her work down on her knee, and stared at me
+with those large, full eyes of hers so steadily&mdash;ay, so haughtily,
+too&mdash;that I half wished myself fifty miles away.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;'"Captain Martin,&rdquo; said she, in a low, distinct voice, &ldquo;has it ever
+occurred to you in life to have, by a mere moment of reflection, a sudden
+flash of intelligence, saved yourself from some step, some act, which, if
+accomplished, had brought nothing but outrage to your feeling, and insult
+to your self-esteem? Let such now rescue you from resuming this theme.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;'"But you# don't understand me,&rdquo; said I. &ldquo;What I wish to say&mdash;&rdquo; Just
+at that instant my father came into the room in search of her, and I made
+my escape to hide the confusion that I felt ready to overwhelm me.'
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;'And have you not seen her since?'
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;'No. Indeed, I think it quite as well, too. She 'll have time to think
+over what I said, and see what a deuced good offer it is; for though I
+know she was going to make objections about inequality of station and all
+that at the time, reflection will bring better thoughts.'
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;'And she 'll consent, you think?'
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;'I wish I had a bet on it,' said he.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;'So you shall, then,' said I, endeavoring to seem thoroughly at my ease.
+'It's a very unworthy occasion for a wager, Martin; but I'll lay five
+hundred to one she refuses you.'
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;'Taken, and booked,' cried he, writing it down in his note-book. &ldquo;I only
+regret it is not in thousands.'
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;'So it should be, if I could honestly stake what I have n't got.'
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;'You are so sanguine of winning? '
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;' So certain, you ought to say.'
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;' Of course you use no influence against me,&mdash;you take no step of
+any kind to affect her decision.'
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;'Certainly not.'
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;'Nor are you&mdash;But,' added he, laughing, 'I need n't make that
+proviso. I was going to say, you are not to ask her yourself.'
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;'I 'll even promise you that, if you like,' said I.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;'Then what can you mean?' said he, with a puzzled look. 'But whatever it
+be, I can stand the loss. I 've won very close to double as much from you
+this evening.'
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;'And as to the disappointment?'
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;'Oh, <i>you</i> 'll not mention it, I 'm certain, neither will she, so
+none will be the wiser; and, after all, the real bore in all these cases
+is the gossip.' And with this consolatory reflection he left me to dress
+for dinner. How well bred a fellow seems who has no feeling, but just tact
+enough to detect the tone of the world and follow it! That's Martin's
+case, and his manners are perfect! After he was gone, I was miserable for
+not having quarrelled with him,&mdash;said something outrageous, insolent,
+and unbearable. That he should have dared to insult the young girl by such
+presumption as the offer of <i>his</i> hand is really too much. What
+difference of station&mdash;wide as the poles asunder&mdash;could compare
+with their real inequality? The fop, the idler, the incompetent, to aspire
+to <i>her!</i> Even his very narrative proclaimed his mean nature,
+wandering on, as it did, from a lounge on the balcony to an offer of
+marriage!
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Now, to conclude this wearisome story&mdash;and I fancy, Harry, that
+already you half deem me a fitting rival for the tiresome Captain,&mdash;but
+to finish, Martin came early into my room, and laying a bank-note for £100
+on the bed, merely added, 'You were right; there's your money.' I'd have
+given double the sum to hear the details of this affair,&mdash;in what
+terms the refusal was conveyed,&mdash;on what grounds she based it; but he
+would not afford me the slightest satisfaction on any of these points.
+Indeed, he displayed more vigor of character than I suspected in him, in
+the way he arrested my inquiries. He left this for Paris immediately
+after, so that the mystery of that interview will doubtless remain
+impenetrable to me.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;We are all at sixes and sevens to-day. Old Martin, shocked by some
+tidings of Ireland that he chanced upon in the public papers, I believe,
+has had a stroke of paralysis, or a seizure resembling that malady. Lady
+Dorothea is quite helpless from terror, and but for Kate, the whole
+household would be in utter chaos and disorganization; but she goes about,
+with her arm in a sling, calm and tranquil, but with the energy and
+activity of one who feels that all depends upon her guidance and
+direction. The servants obey her with a promptitude that proclaims
+instinct; and even the doctor lays aside the mysterious jargon of his
+craft, and condescends to talk sense to her. I have not seen her; passing
+rumors only reach me in my solitude, and I sit here writing and brooding
+alternately.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;P. S. Martin is a little better; no immediate danger to life, but slight
+hopes of ultimate recovery. I was wrong as to the cause. It was a
+proclamation of outlawry against his son, the Captain, which he read in
+the 'Times.' Some implacable creditor or other had pushed his claim so
+far, as I believe is easy enough to do nowadays; and poor Martin, who
+connected this stigma with all the disgrace that once accompanied such a
+sentence, fell senseless to the ground, and was taken up palsied. He is
+perfectly collected and even tranquil now, and they wheeled me in to sit
+with him for an hour or so. Lady Dorothea behaves admirably; the first
+shock overwhelmed her, but that passed off, and she is now all that could
+be imagined of tenderness and zeal.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Kate I saw but for a second. She asked me to write to Captain Martin, and
+request him to hasten home. It was no time to trifle with her; so I simply
+promised to do so, adding,&mdash;&ldquo;'<i>You,</i> I trust, will not leave
+this at such a moment?'
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;'Assuredly not,' said she, slightly coloring at what implied my knowledge
+of her plans.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;'Then all will go on well in that case,' said I.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;'I never knew that I was reckoned what people call lucky,' said she,
+smiling. 'Indeed, most of those with whom I have been associated in life
+might say the opposite.' And then, without waiting to hear me, she left
+the room.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;My brain is throbbing and my cheeks burning; some feverish access is upon
+me. So I send off this ere I grow worse.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Your faithful friend,
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Jack Massingbred.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+<a name="link2HCH0010" id="link2HCH0010">
+<!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+</p>
+<div style="height: 4em;">
+<br /><br /><br /><br />
+</div>
+<h2>
+CHAPTER X. HOW ROGUES AGREE!
+</h2>
+<p>
+Leaving the Martins in their quiet retreat at Spa, nor dwelling any longer
+on a life whose daily monotony was unbroken by an incident, we once more
+turn our glance westward. Were we assured that our kind readers'
+sympathies were with us, the change would be a pleasure to us, since it is
+there, in that wild mountain tract, that pathless region of fern and wild
+furze, that we love to linger, rambling half listlessly through silent
+glens and shady gorges, or sitting pensively on the storm-lashed shore,
+till sea and sky melt into one, and naught lowers through the gloom save
+the tall crags above us.
+</p>
+<p>
+We are once more back again at the little watering-place of Kilkieran, to
+which we introduced our readers in an early chapter of this narrative; but
+another change has come over that humble locality. The Osprey's Nest, the
+ornamented villa, on which her Ladyship had squandered so lavishly good
+money and bad taste, was now an inn! A vulgar sign-board, representing a
+small boat in a heavy sea, hung over the door, with the words &ldquo;The
+Corragh&rdquo; written underneath. The spacious saloon, whose bay-windows opened
+on the Atlantic, was now a coffee-room, and the small boudoir that
+adjoined it&mdash;desecration of desecrations&mdash;the bar!
+</p>
+<p>
+It needs not to have been the friend or favored guest beneath a roof where
+elegance and refinement have prevailed to feel the shock at seeing them
+replaced by all that ministers to coarse pleasure and vulgar association.
+The merest stranger cannot but experience a sense of disgust at the
+contrast. Whichever way you turned, some object met the eye recalling past
+splendor and present degradation; indeed, Toby Shea, the landlord, seemed
+to feel as one of his brightest prerogatives the right of insulting the
+memory of his predecessors, and throwing into stronger antithesis the
+&ldquo;former&rdquo; and the &ldquo;now.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Here ye are now, sir, in my Lady's own parlor; and that's her bedroom,
+where I left your trunk,&rdquo; said he, as he ushered in a newly arrived
+traveller, whose wet and road-stained drapery bore traces of an Irish
+winter's day. &ldquo;Mr. Scanlan told me that your honor would be here at four
+o'clock, and he ordered dinner for two, at five, and a good dinner you 'll
+have.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;There; let them open my traps, and fetch me a pair of slippers and a
+dressing-gown,&rdquo; broke in the traveller; &ldquo;and be sure to have a good fire
+in my bedroom. What an infernal climate! It has rained since the day I
+landed at Dublin; and now that I have come down here, it has blown a
+hurricane besides. And how cold this room is!&rdquo; added he, shuddering.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;That's all by reason of them windows,&rdquo; said Toby,&mdash;&ldquo;French windows
+they call them; but I'll get real Irish sashes put up next season, if I
+live. It was a fancy of that ould woman that built the place to have
+nothing that was n't foreign.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;They are not popular, then,&mdash;the Martins?&rdquo; asked the stranger.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Popular!&rdquo; echoed Toby. &ldquo;Begorra, they are not. Why would they be? Is it
+rack-renting, process sarving, extirminating, would make them popular?
+Sure we're all ruined on the estate. There isn't a mother's son of us
+might n't be in jail; and it's not Maurice's fault, either,&mdash;Mr.
+Scanlan's, I mean. Your honor's a friend of his, I believe,&rdquo; added he,
+stealthily. The stranger gave a short nod. &ldquo;Sure he only does what he's
+ordered; and it's breaking his heart it is to do them cruel things they
+force him to.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Was the management of the estate better when they lived at home?&rdquo; asked
+the stranger.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Some say yes, more says no. I never was their tenant myself, for I lived
+in Oughterard, and kept the 'Goose and Griddle' in John Street; but I
+believe, if the truth was told, it was always pretty much the same. They
+were azy and moderate when they did n't want money, but ready to take your
+skin off your back when they were hard up.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And is that their present condition?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I think it is,&rdquo; said he, with a confident grin. &ldquo;They 're spending
+thousands for hundreds since they went abroad; and that chap in the
+dragoons&mdash;the Captain they call him&mdash;sells a farm, or a plot of
+ground, just the way ye 'd tear a leaf out of a book. There 's Mr. Maurice
+now,&mdash;and I 'll go and hurry the dinner, for he 'll give us no peace
+if we 're a minute late.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+The stranger&mdash;or, to give him his proper name, Mr. Merl&mdash;now
+approached the window, and watched, not without admiration, the skilful
+management by which Scanlan skimmed along the strand, zigzagging his smart
+nag through all the awkward impediments of the way, and wending his tandem
+through what appeared a labyrinth of confusion.
+</p>
+<p>
+Men bred and born in great cities are somewhat prone to fancy that certain
+accomplishments, such as tandem-driving, steeple-chasing, and such like,
+are the exclusive acquirements of rank and station. They have only
+witnessed them as the gifts of guardsmen and &ldquo;young squires of high
+degree,&rdquo; never suspecting that in the country a very inferior class is
+often endowed with these skilful arts. Mr. Merl felt, therefore, no
+ordinary reverence for Maurice Scanlan, a sentiment fully reciprocated by
+the attorney, as he beheld the gorgeous dressing-gown, rich tasselled cap,
+and Turkish trousers of the other.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I thought I'd arrive before you, sir,&rdquo; said Scanlan, with a profound bow,
+as he entered the room; &ldquo;but I'm glad you got in first. What a shower that
+was!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Shower!&rdquo; said Merl; &ldquo;a West India hurricane is a zephyr to it. I 'd not
+live in this climate if you 'd give me the whole Martin estate!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I 'm sure of it, sir; one must be bred in the place, and know no better,
+to stand it.&rdquo; And although the speech was uttered in all humility, Merl
+gave the speaker a searching glance, as though to say, &ldquo;Don't lose your
+time trying to humbug me; I'm 'York,' too.&rdquo; Indeed, there was species of
+freemasonry in the looks that now passed between the two; each seemed
+instinctively to feel that he was in the presence of an equal, and that
+artifice and deceit might be laid aside for the nonce.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I hope you agree with me,&rdquo; said Scanlan, in a lower and more confidential
+voice, &ldquo;that this was the best place to come to. Here you can stay as long
+as you like, and nobody the wiser; but in the town of Oughterard they'd be
+at you morning, noon, and night, tracking your steps, questioning the
+waiter, ay, and maybe taking a peep at your letters. I 've known that same
+before now.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Well, I suppose you 're right; only this place does look a little dull, I
+confess.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;It's not the season, to be sure,&rdquo; said Scanlan, apologetically.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Oh! and there is a season here?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Isn't there, by George!&rdquo; said Maurice, smacking his lips. &ldquo;I 've seen two
+heifers killed here of a morning, and not so much as a beefsteak to be got
+before twelve o'clock. 'T is the height of fashion comes down here in
+July,&mdash;the Rams of Kiltimmon, and the Bodkins of Crossmaglin; and
+there was talk last year of a lord,&mdash;I forget his name; but he ran
+away from Newmarket, and the story went that he was making for this.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Any play?&rdquo; asked Merl.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Play is it? That there is; whist every night, and backgammon.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Merl threw up his eyebrows with pretty much the same feeling with which
+the Great Napoleon repeated the words &ldquo;Bows and Arrows!&rdquo; as the weapons of
+a force that offered him alliance.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;If you'd allow me to dine in this trim, Mr. Scanlan,&rdquo; said he, &ldquo;I'd ask
+you to order dinner.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I was only waiting for you to give the word, sir,&rdquo; said Maurice,
+reverting to the habit of respect at any fresh display of the other's
+pretensions; and opening the door, he gave a shrill whistle.
+</p>
+<p>
+The landlord himself answered the summons, and whispered a few words in
+Scanlan's ear.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;That's it, always,&rdquo; cried Maurice, angrily. &ldquo;I never came into the house
+for the last ten days without hearing the same story. I 'd like to know
+who and what he is, that must always have the best that 's going?&rdquo; Then
+turning to Merl, he added: &ldquo;It's a lodger he has upstairs; an old fellow
+that came about a fortnight back; and if there's a fine fish or a fat
+turkey or a good saddle of mutton to be got, he 'll have it.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Faix, he pays well,&rdquo; said Toby, &ldquo;whoever he is.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And he has secured our salmon, I find, and left us to dine on whiting,&rdquo;
+ said Maurice.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;An eighteen-pound fish!&rdquo; echoed Toby; &ldquo;and it would be as much as my life
+is worth to cut it in two.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And he's alone, too?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;No, sir. Mr. Crow, the painter, is to dine with him. He's making drawings
+for him of all the wonderful places down the coast.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Well, give us what we 're to have at once,&rdquo; said Maurice, angrily. &ldquo;The
+basket of wine was taken out of the gig?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yes, sir; all right and ready for you; and barrin' the fish you 'll have
+an elegant dinner.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+This little annoyance over, the guests relished their fare like hungry
+men; nor, time and place considered, was it to be despised.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Digestion is a great leveller.&rdquo; Mr. Merl and Mr. Scan-Ian felt far more
+on an equality when, the dinner over and the door closed, they drew the
+table close to the fire, and drank to each other in a glass of racy port.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Well, I believe a man might live here, after all,&rdquo; said Merl, as he gazed
+admiringly on the bright hues of his variegated lower garments.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I 'm proud to hear you say so,&rdquo; said Scanlan; &ldquo;for, of course, you've
+seen a deal of life; and when I say life, I mean fashion and high style,&mdash;nobs
+and swells.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yes; I believe I have,&rdquo; said Merl, lighting his cigar; &ldquo;that was always
+my 'line.' I fancy there's few fellows going have more experience of the
+really great world than Herman Merl.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And you like it?&rdquo; asked Maurice, confidentially.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I do, and I do not,&rdquo; said the Jew, hesitatingly. &ldquo;To one like myself, who
+knows them all, always on terms of close intimacy,&mdash;friendship, I may
+say,&mdash;it 's all very well; but take a new hand just launched into
+life, a fellow not of their own set,&mdash;why, sir, there 's no name for
+the insults and outrage he'll meet with.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;But what could they do?&rdquo; asked Scanlan, inquiringly.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;What?&mdash;anything, everything; laugh at him, live on him, win his last
+guinea,&mdash;and then, blackball him!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And could n't he get a crack at them?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;A what?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Couldn't he have a shot at some of them, at least?&rdquo; asked Maurice.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;No, no,&rdquo; said Mr. Merl, half contemptuously; &ldquo;they don't do <i>that</i>.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Faix! and we 'd do it down here,&rdquo; said Scanlan, &ldquo;devil may care who or
+what he was that tried the game.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;But I 'm speaking of London and Paris; I 'm not alluding to the Sandwich
+Islands,&rdquo; said Merl, on whose brain the port and the strong fire were
+already producing their effects.
+</p>
+<p>
+Scanlan's face flushed angrily; but a glance at the other checked the
+reply he was about to make, and he merely pushed the decanter across the
+table.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You see, sir,&rdquo; said Merl, in the tone of a man laying down a great
+dictum, &ldquo;there 's worlds and worlds. There's Claude Willoughby's world,
+which is young Martin's and Stanhope's and mine. There, we are all young
+fellows of fortune, good family, good prospects, you understand,&mdash;no,
+thank you, no more wine;&mdash;I feel that what I 've taken has got into
+my head; and this cigar, too, is none of the best. Would it be taking too
+great a liberty with you if I were to snatch a ten minutes' doze,&mdash;just
+ten minutes?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Treat me like an old friend; make yourself quite at home,&rdquo; said Maurice.
+&ldquo;There 's enough here&rdquo;&mdash;and he pointed to the bottles on the table&mdash;&ldquo;to
+keep me company; and I 'll wake you up when I 've finished them.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Mr. Merl made no reply; but drawing a chair for his legs, and disposing
+his drapery gracefully around him, he closed his eyes, and before Maurice
+had replenished his glass, gave audible evidence of a sound sleep.
+</p>
+<p>
+Now, worthy reader, we practise no deceptions with you; nor so far as we
+are able, do we allow others to do so. It is but fair, therefore, to tell
+you that Mr. Merl was not asleep, nor had he any tendency whatever to
+slumber about him. That astute gentleman, however, had detected that the
+port was, with the addition of a great fire, too much for him; he
+recognized in himself certain indications of confusion that implied
+wandering and uncertain faculties, and he resolved to arrest the progress
+of such symptoms by a little repose. He felt, in short, that if he had
+been engaged in play, that he should have at once &ldquo;cut out,&rdquo; and so he
+resolved to give himself the advantage of the prerogative which attaches
+to a tired traveller. There he lay, then, with closed eyes,&mdash;breathing
+heavily,&mdash;to all appearance sound asleep.
+</p>
+<p>
+Maurice Scanlan, meanwhile, scanned the recumbent figure before him with
+the eye of a connoisseur. We have once before said that Mr. Scanlan's
+jockey experiences had marvellously aided his worldly craft, and that he
+scrutinized those with whom he came in contact through life, with all the
+shrewd acumen he would have bestowed upon a horse whose purchase he
+meditated. It was easy to see that the investigation puzzled him. Mr. Merl
+did not belong to any one category he had ever seen before. Maurice was
+acquainted with various ranks and conditions of men; but here was a new
+order, not referable to any known class. He opened Captain Martin's
+letter, which he carried in his pocket-book, and re-read it; but it was
+vague and uninstructive. He merely requested that &ldquo;every attention might
+be paid to his friend Mr. Merl, who wanted to see something of the West,
+and know all about the condition of the people, and such like. He's up to
+everything, Master Maurice,&rdquo; continued the writer, &ldquo;and so just the man
+for <i>you</i>.&rdquo; There was little to be gleaned from this source, and so
+he felt, as he folded and replaced the epistle in his pocket.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;What can he be,&rdquo; thought Scanlan, &ldquo;and what brings him down here? Is he a
+member of Parliament, that wants to make himself up about Ireland and
+Irish grievances? Is he a money-lender, that wants to see the security
+before he makes a loan? Are they thinking of him for the agency?&rdquo;&mdash;and
+Maurice flushed as the suspicion crossed him,&mdash;&ldquo;or is it after Miss
+Mary he is?&rdquo; And a sudden paleness covered his face at the thought. &ldquo;I 'd
+give a cool hundred, this minute, if I could read you,&rdquo; said he to
+himself, &ldquo;Ay, and I'd not ask any one's help how to deal with us
+afterwards,&rdquo; added he, as he drained off his glass. While he was thus
+ruminating, a gentle tap was heard at the door, and, anxious not to
+disturb the sleeper, Scanlan crossed the room with noiseless steps, and
+opened it.
+</p>
+<p>
+<a name="linkimage-0004" id="linkimage-0004">
+<!-- IMG --></a>
+</p>
+<div class="fig" style="width:80%;">
+<img src="images/124.jpg" width="100%" alt="124 " />
+</div>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Oh, it's you, Simmy,&rdquo; said he, in a low voice. &ldquo;Come in, and make no
+noise; he's asleep.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And that's him!&rdquo; said Crow, standing still to gaze on the recumbent
+figure before him, which he scrutinized with all an artist's appreciation.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Ay, and what do you think of him?&rdquo; whispered Scanlan.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;That chap is a Jew,&rdquo; said Sim, in the same cautious tone. &ldquo;I know the
+features well; you see the very image of him in the old Venetian pictures.
+Whenever they wanted cunning and cruelty&mdash;but more cunning than
+cruelty&mdash;they always took that type.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I would n't wonder if you were right, Simmy,&rdquo; said Scanlan, on whom a new
+light was breaking.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I know I am; look at the spread of the nostrils, and the thick, full
+lips, and the coarse, projecting under-jaw. Faix!&rdquo; said he to himself, &ldquo;I
+'ve seen the day I 'd like to have had a study of your face.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Indeed!&rdquo; said Scanlan.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Just so; he'd make a great Judas!&rdquo; said Crow, enthusiastically. &ldquo;It is
+the miser all over. You know,&rdquo; added he, &ldquo;if one took him in the
+historical way, you 'd get rid of the vulgarity, and make him grander and
+finer; for, looking at him now, he might be a dog-stealer.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Scanlan gave a low, cautious laugh as he placed a chair beside his own for
+the artist, and filled out for him a bumper of port.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I was just dying for a glass of this,&rdquo; said Crow. &ldquo;I dined with Mr. Barry
+upstairs; and though he's a fine-hearted old fellow in many respects, he's
+too abstemious; a pint of sherry for two at dinner, and a pint of port
+after, that's the allowance. Throw out as many hints as you like, suggest
+how and what you will, but devil a drop more you'll get.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And who is he?&rdquo; asked Scanlan.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I wish you could tell me,&rdquo; said Crow.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You haven't a notion; nor what he is?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Not the slightest. I think, indeed, he said he was in the army; but I'm
+not clear it wasn't a commissary or a surgeon; maybe he was, but he knows
+a little about everything. Take him on naval matters, and he understands
+them well; ask him about foreign countries,&mdash;egad, he was everywhere.
+Ireland seems the only place new to him, and it won't be so long; for he
+goes among the people, and talks to them, and hears all they have to say,
+with a patience that breaks my heart. Like all strangers, he's astonished
+with the acuteness he meets with, and never ceases saying, 'Ain't they a
+wonderful people? Who ever saw their equal for intelligence?'&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Bother!&rdquo; said Scanlan, contemptuously.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;But it is not bother! Maurice; he's right. They are just what he says.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Arrah! don't be humbugging <i>me</i>, Mr. Crow,&rdquo; said the other. &ldquo;They
+'re a set of scheming, plotting vagabonds, that are unmanageable by any
+one, except a fellow that has the key to them as I have.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;<i>You</i> know them, that's true,&rdquo; said Crow, half apologetically, for
+he liked the port, and did not feel he ought to push contradiction too
+far.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And that's more than your friend Barry does, or ever will,&rdquo; said Scanlan.
+&ldquo;I defy an Englishman&mdash;I don't care how shrewd he is&mdash;to
+understand Paddy.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+A slight movement on Mr. Merl's part here admonished the speaker to speak
+lower.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Ay,&rdquo; continued Maurice, &ldquo;that fellow there&mdash;whoever he is or
+whatever he is&mdash;is no fool! he 's deep enough; and yet there 's not a
+bare-legged gossoon on the estate I won't back to take him in.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;But Barry's another kind of man entirely. You wouldn't call him cute or
+cunning; but he's a sensible, well-judging man, that has seen a deal of
+life.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And what is it, he says, brings him here?&rdquo; asked Scanlan.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;He never said a word about that yet,&rdquo; replied Crow, &ldquo;further than his
+desire to visit a country he had heard much of, and, if I understand him
+aright, where some of his ancestors came from; for, you see, at times he's
+not so easy for one to follow, for he has a kind of a foreign twang in his
+tongue, and often mumbles to himself in a strange language.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I mistrust all these fellows that go about the world, pretending they
+want to see this and observe that,&rdquo; said Scanlan, sententiously.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;It's mighty hard to mistrust a man that gives you the likes of that,&rdquo;
+ said Crow, as he drew a neatly folded banknote from his pocket, and handed
+it to Scanlan. &ldquo;Twenty pounds! And he gave you that?&rdquo; &ldquo;This very evening.
+'It is a little more than our bargain, Mr. Crow,' said he, 'but not more
+than I can afford to give; and so I hope you 'll not refuse it.' These
+were his words, as he took my lot of drawings&mdash;poor daubs they were&mdash;and
+placed them in his portfolio.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;So that he is rich?&rdquo; said Maurice, pensively, &ldquo;There seems no end of his
+money; there's not a day goes over he does n't spend fifteen or sixteen
+pounds in meat, potatoes, barley, and the like. Sure, you may say he 's
+been feeding the two islands himself for the last fortnight; and what's
+more, one must n't as much as allude to it. He gets angry at the slightest
+word that can bring the subject forward. It was the other day he said to
+myself, 'If you can relieve destitution without too much parade of its
+sufferings, you are not only obviating the vulgar display of rich
+benevolence, but you are inculcating high sentiments and delicacy of
+feeling in those that are relieved. Take care how you pauperize the heart
+of a people, for you 'll have to make a workhouse of the nation.'&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Sure, they're paupers already!&rdquo; exclaimed Scanlan, contemptuously. &ldquo;When
+I hear all these elegant sentiments uttered about Ireland, I know a man is
+an ass! This is a poor country,&mdash;the people is poor, the gentry is
+poor, the climate is n't the best, and bad as it is, you 're never sure of
+it. All that anybody can hope to do is to make his living out of it; but
+as to improving it,&mdash;raising the intellectual standard of the people,
+and all that balderdash we hear of,&mdash;you might just as well tell me
+that there was an Act of Parliament to make everybody in Connaught six
+feet high. Nature says one thing, and it signifies mighty little if the
+House of Commons says the other.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And you 're telling me this in the very spot that contradicts every word
+you say!&rdquo; cried Crow, half angrily; for the port had given him courage,
+and the decanter waxed low.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;How so?&rdquo; exclaimed Scanlan.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Here, where we sit&mdash;on this very estate of Cro' Martin&mdash;where a
+young girl&mdash;a child the other day&mdash;has done more to raise the
+condition of the people, to educate and civilize, than the last six
+generations together.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+A long wailing whistle from Scanlan was the insulting reply to the
+assertion.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;What do you mean by that?&rdquo; cried Crow, passionately.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I mean that she has done more mischief to the property than
+five-and-forty years' good management will ever repair, Now don't be
+angry, Simmy; keep your temper, and draw your chair back again to the
+table. I 'm not going to say one word against her intentions; but when I
+see the waste of thousands of pounds on useless improvements, elegant
+roads that lead nowhere, bridges that nobody will ever pass, and harbors
+without boats, not to say the habits of dependence the people have got by
+finding everything done for them. I tell you again, ten years more of Miss
+Mary's rule will finish the estate.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+<a name="linkimage-0005" id="linkimage-0005">
+<!-- IMG --></a>
+</p>
+<div class="fig" style="width:80%;">
+<img src="images/130.jpg" width="100%" alt="" /><br />
+</div>
+<p>
+alt="130 &ldquo;>
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I don't believe a word of it!&rdquo; blurted out Simmy, boldly. &ldquo;I saw her
+yesterday coming out of a cabin, where she passed above an hour, nursing
+typhus fever and cholera. The cloak she took off the door&mdash;for she
+left it there to dry&mdash;was still soaked with rain; her wet hair hung
+down her shoulders, and as she stood bridling her own pony,&mdash;for
+there was not a living soul to help her&mdash;&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;She 'd have made an elegant picture,&rdquo; broke in Scanlan, with a laugh.
+&ldquo;But that's exactly the fault of us in Ireland,&mdash;we are all
+picturesque; I wish we were prosperous! But come, Simmy, finish your wine;
+it's not worth disputing about. If all I hear about matters be true, there
+will be very little left of Cro' Martin when the debts are paid.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;What! do you mean to say that they 're in difficulty?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Far worse; the stories that reach me call it&mdash;ruin!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Simmy drew his chair closer to the table, and in a whisper scarcely
+breathed, said, &ldquo;That chap's not asleep, Maurice.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I know it,&rdquo; whispered the other; and added, aloud, &ldquo;Many a fellow that
+thinks he has the first charge on the property will soon discover his
+mistake; there are mortgages of more than eighty years' standing on the
+estate. You've had a great sleep, sir,&rdquo; said he, addressing Merl, who now
+yawned and opened his eyes; &ldquo;I hope our talking did n't disturb you?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Not in the least,&rdquo; said Merl, rising and stretching his legs. &ldquo;I'm all
+right now, and quite fresh for anything.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Let me introduce Mr. Crow to you, sir,&mdash;a native artist that we 're
+all proud of.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;That's exactly what you are not then,&rdquo; said Crow; &ldquo;nor would you be if I
+deserved it. You 'd rather gain a cause at the Quarter Sessions, or take
+in a friend about a horse, than be the man that painted the Madonna at
+Florence.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;He's cross this evening,&mdash;cross and ill-humored,&rdquo; said Scanlan,
+laughing. &ldquo;Maybe he 'll be better tempered when we have tea.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I was just going to ask for it,&rdquo; said Merl, as he arranged his whiskers,
+and performed a small impromptu toilet before the glass, while Simmy
+issued forth to give the necessary orders.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;We 'll have tea, and a rubber of dummy afterwards,&rdquo; said Scanlan, &ldquo;if
+you've no objection.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Whatever you like,&mdash;I 'm quite at your disposal,&rdquo; replied Merl, who
+now seated himself with an air of bland amiability, ready, according to
+the amount of the stake, to win pounds or lose sixpences.
+</p>
+<p>
+<a name="link2HCH0011" id="link2HCH0011">
+<!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+</p>
+<div style="height: 4em;">
+<br /><br /><br /><br />
+</div>
+<h2>
+CHAPTER XI. MR. MERL &ldquo;AT FENCE&rdquo;
+ </h2>
+<p>
+All the projects which Mr. Scanlan had struck out for Merl's occupation on
+the following day were marred by the unfavorable weather. It blew fiercely
+from the westward, driving upon shore a tremendous sea, and sending white
+masses of drift and foam far inland. The rain, too, came down in torrents.
+The low-lying clouds, which scarcely reached more than half-way up the
+mountain sides, seemed as if rent asunder at times, and from them came a
+deluge, filling all the watercourses, and swelling rivulets to the size of
+mighty torrents. The unceasing roll of thunder, now near, now rumbling
+along in distant volleys, swelled the wild uproar, and helped to make up a
+scene of grand but desolate meaning.
+</p>
+<p>
+What could well be drearier than that little line of cabins that formed
+the village of Kilkieran, as with strongly barricaded doors, and with
+roofs secured by ropes and spars, they stood exposed to the full violence
+of the wild Atlantic! Not a man, not a living thing was to be seen. The
+fishermen were all within doors, cowering in gloomy indolence over the
+scanty turf fires, and brooding darkly on the coming winter.
+</p>
+<p>
+With a thorough conviction of all the dreariness of this scene, Mr. Merl
+stood at the window and looked out. He had been all his life too actively
+engaged in his pursuits of one kind or other to know much about what is
+called &ldquo;being bored.&rdquo; Let rain fall ever so heavily, a cab could take him
+down to &ldquo;'Change,&rdquo;&mdash;the worst weather never marred a sale of stock,
+and Consols could rise even while the mercury was falling. The
+business-life of a great city seems to care little for weather, and
+possibly they whose intent faculties are bent on gain, scarcely remember
+whether the sun shines upon their labors.
+</p>
+<p>
+Merl felt differently now; the scene before him was wilder and gloomier
+than anything he had ever beheld. Beyond and behind the village steep
+mountains rose on every side, of barren and rugged surface,&mdash;not a
+vestige of any culture to be seen; while on the road, which led along a
+narrow gorge, nothing moved. All was dreary and deserted.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I suppose you'll keep the roof over you to-day, Mr. Merl?&rdquo; said Scanlan,
+as he entered the room, buttoned up to the chin in a coarse frieze coat,
+while his head was protected by a genuine &ldquo;sou'-wester&rdquo; of oilskin.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And are <i>you</i> going out in such weather?&rdquo; asked Merl.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;'Needs must,' sir, as the proverb says. I have to be at the assizes at
+Oughterard this morning, to prosecute some scoundrels for cutting brambles
+in the wood; and I want to serve notices on a townland about eight miles
+from this; and then I 'll have to go round by Cro' Martin and see Miss
+Mary. That's not the worst of it,&rdquo; added he, with an impudent leer, &ldquo;for
+she's a fine girl, and has the prettiest eyes in the kingdom.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I have a letter for her,&rdquo; said Merl,&mdash;&ldquo;a letter of introduction from
+Captain Martin. I suppose I might as well send it by you, and ask if I
+might pay my respects to-morrow or next day?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;To be sure; I'll take it with pleasure. You'll like her when you see her.
+She's not a bit like the rest: no pride, no stand-off,&mdash;that is, when
+she takes a fancy; but she is full of life and courage for anything.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Ah, yes,&mdash;the Captain said we should get on very well together,&rdquo;
+ drawled out Merl.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Did he, though!&rdquo; cried Scanlan, eagerly. Then as suddenly checking his
+anxiety, he added: &ldquo;But what does <i>he</i> know about Miss Mary? Surely
+they're as good as strangers to each other. And for the matter of that,
+even when he was here, they did n't take to each other,&mdash;she was
+always laughing at the way he rode.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Wasn't he in the dragoons?&rdquo; asked Merl, in a half-rebutting tone.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;So he was; but what does that signify? Sure it's not a cavalry seat, with
+your head down and your elbows squared, will teach you to cross country,&mdash;at
+least, with Mary Martin beside you. You'll see her one of these day
+yourself, Mr. Merl. May I never, if you don't see her now!&rdquo; cried Scanlan,
+suddenly, as he pointed to the road along which a horse was seen coming at
+speed, the rider breasting the storm fearlessly, and only crouching to the
+saddle as the gusts swept past. &ldquo;What in the name of all that's wonderful
+brings her here?&rdquo; cried Maurice. &ldquo;She wasn't down at Kilkieran for four
+months.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;She'll stop at this inn here, I suppose?&rdquo; said Merl who was already
+performing an imaginary toilet for her visit.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You may take your oath she'll not!&rdquo; said Scanlan half roughly; &ldquo;she 'd
+not cross the threshold of it! She 's going to some cabin or other. There
+she goes,&mdash;is n't that riding?&rdquo; cried he, in animation. &ldquo;Did you ever
+see a horse held neater? And see how she picks the road for him! Easy as
+she's sitting, she 'd take a four-foot wall this minute, without stirring
+in her saddle.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;She hasn't got a nice day for pleasuring!&rdquo; said the Jew, with a vulgar
+cackle.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;If ye call it pleasure,&rdquo; rejoined Scanlan, &ldquo;what she's after; but I
+suspect there's somebody sick down at the end of the village. There, I 'm
+right; she's pulling up at Mat Landy's,&mdash;I wonder if it's old Mat is
+bad.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You know him?&rdquo; asked Merl.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;To be sure I do. He 's known down the coast for forty miles. He saved
+more men from shipwreck himself than everybody in the barony put together;
+but his heart is all but broke about a granddaughter that ran away. Sure
+enough, she's going in there.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Did you see Miss Mary?&rdquo; cried Crow, entering suddenly. &ldquo;She's just gone
+down the beach. They say there's a case now down there.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;A case&mdash;of what?&rdquo; said Merl.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Cholera or typhus, as it may be,&rdquo; said Crow, not a little surprised at
+the unmistakable terror of the other's face.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And she's gone to see it!&rdquo; exclaimed the Jew.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;To do more than see it. She 'll nurse the sick man, and bring him
+medicine and whatever he wants.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And not afraid?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Afraid!&rdquo; broke in Crow. &ldquo;I'd like to know what she's afraid of. Ask Mr.
+Scanlan what would frighten her.&rdquo; But Mr. Scanlan had already slipped
+noiselessly from the room, and was already on his way down the shore.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Well,&rdquo; said Merl, lighting his cigar, and drawing an arm-chair close to
+the fire, &ldquo;I don't see the advantage of all that. She could send the
+doctor, I suppose, and make her servants take down to these people
+whatever she wanted to send them. What especial utility there is in going
+herself, I can't perceive.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I'll tell you, then,&rdquo; said Crow. &ldquo;It's more likely the doctor is busy
+this minute, ten or fifteen miles away,&mdash;for the whole country is
+down in sickness; but even if he was n't, if it were not for her courage
+in going everywhere, braving danger and death every hour, there would be a
+general flight of all that could escape. They'd rush into the towns,&mdash;where
+already there's more sickness than they know how to deal with. She
+encourages some,&mdash;she shames more; and not a few are proud to be
+brave in such company, for she is an angel,&mdash;that's her name,&mdash;an
+angel.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Well, I should like to see her,&rdquo; drawled out Merl, as he smoothed down
+his scrubby mustachios.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Nothing easier, then,&rdquo; rejoined Crow. &ldquo;Put on your coat and hat, and we
+'ll stroll down the beach till she comes out; it can't be very long, for
+she has enough on her hands elsewhere.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+The proposition of a &ldquo;stroll&rdquo; in such weather was very little to Mr.
+Merl's taste; but his curiosity was stronger than even his fear of a
+drenching, and having muffled and shawled himself as if for an Arctic
+winter, they set out together from the inn.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And you tell me,&rdquo; said he, &ldquo;that the Martins used to live here,&mdash;actually
+pass their lives in this atrocious climate?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;That they did,&mdash;and the worst mistake they ever made was to leave
+it,&rdquo; said Crow.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I confess you puzzle me,&rdquo; said Merl.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Very possibly I do, sir,&rdquo; was the calm reply; &ldquo;but you'd have understood
+me at once had you known this country while they resided at Cro' Martin.
+It was n't only that the superfluities of their wealth ran over, and
+filled the cup of the poor man, but there was a sense of hope cherished,
+by seeing that however hard the times, however adverse the season, there
+was always 'his Honor,' as they called Mr. Martin, whom they could appeal
+to for aid or for lenient treatment.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Very strange, very odd, all this,&rdquo; said Merl, musing. &ldquo;But all that I
+hear of Ireland represents the people as if in a continual struggle for
+mere existence, and actually in a daily state of dependence on the will of
+somebody above them.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And if that same condition were never to be exaggerated into downright
+want, or pushed to an actual slavery, we could be very happy with it,&rdquo;
+ said Crow, &ldquo;and not thank you, or any other Englishman that came here, to
+disturb it.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I assure you I have no ambition to indulge in any such interference,&rdquo;
+ said Merl, with a half-contemptuous laugh.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And so you're not thinking of settling in Ireland?&rdquo; asked Crow, in some
+surprise.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Never dreamed of it!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Well, the story goes that you wanted to buy an estate, and came down to
+have a look at this property here.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I'd not live on it if Martin were to make me a present of it to-morrow.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I don't think he will,&rdquo; said Crow, gravely. &ldquo;I am afraid he could n't, if
+he wished it.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;What, do you mean on account of the entail?&rdquo; asked Merl.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Not exactly.&rdquo; He paused, and after some silence said, &ldquo;If the truth were
+told, there's a great deal of debt on this property,&mdash;more than any
+one suspects.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;The Captain's encumbrances?&rdquo; asked Merl, eagerly.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;His grandfather's and his great-grandfather's! As for the present man,
+they say that he's tied up some way not to sell, except for the sake of
+redeeming some of the mortgages. But who knows what is true and what is
+false about all this?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Merl was silent; grave fears were crossing his mind how far his claims
+were valid; and terrible misgivings shot across him lest the Captain might
+have been paying him with valueless securities.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I gather from what you say,&rdquo; said he, at last, &ldquo;that it would be rather
+difficult to make out a title for any purchaser of this estate.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Don't be afraid of that, sir. They'll make you out a fair title.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I tell you again, I'd not take it as a present,&rdquo; said Merl, half angrily.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I see,&rdquo; said Crow, nodding his head sententiously. And then fixing his
+eyes steadily on him, he said, &ldquo;You are a mortgagee.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Merl reddened,&mdash;partly anger, partly shame. Indeed, the feeling that
+such a capacity as Mr. Crow's should have pushed him hard, was anything
+but complimentary to his self-esteem.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I don't want to pry into any man's affairs,&rdquo; said Crow, easily. &ldquo;Heaven
+knows it's mighty little matter to Simmy Crow who lives in the big house
+there. I 'd rather, if I had my choice, be able to walk the wood with my
+sketch-book and brushes than be the richest man that ever was heartsore
+with the cares of wealth.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And if a friend&mdash;a sincere, well-wishing friend&mdash;were to bind
+himself that you should enjoy this same happiness you speak of, Mr. Crow,
+what would you do in return?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Anything he asked me,&mdash;anything, at least, that a fair man could
+ask, and an honest one could do.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;There's my hand on it, then,&rdquo; said Merl. &ldquo;It's a bargain.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Ay, but let us hear the conditions,&rdquo; said Crow. &ldquo;What could I possibly
+serve you in, that would be worth this price?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Simply this: that you'll answer all my inquiries, so far as you know
+about this estate; and where your knowledge fails, that you'll endeavor to
+obtain the information for me.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Maybe I could tell you nothing at all&mdash;or next to nothing,&rdquo; said
+Crow. &ldquo;Just ask me, now, what's the kind of question you 'd put; for, to
+tell truth, I 'm not over bright or clever,&mdash;the best of me is when
+I've a canvas before me.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Merl peered stealthily at the speaker over the great folds of the shawl
+that enveloped his throat; he was not without his misgivings that the
+artist was a &ldquo;deep fellow,&rdquo; assuming a manner of simplicity to draw him
+into a confidence. &ldquo;And yet,&rdquo; he thought, &ldquo;had he really been shrewd and
+cunning, he 'd never have blurted out his suspicion as to my being a
+mortgagee. Besides,&rdquo; said he to himself, &ldquo;there, and with that fact, must
+end all his knowledge of me.&rdquo; &ldquo;You can dine with me to-day, Mr. Crow,
+can't you?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I 'm engaged to the stranger in No. 4,&mdash;the man I'm making the
+drawings for.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;But you could get off. You could ask him to excuse you by saying that
+something of importance required you elsewhere?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And dine in the room underneath?&rdquo; asked Crow, with a comical look of
+distress at this suggestion.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Well, let us go somewhere else. Is there no other inn in the
+neighborhood?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;There's a small public-house near the gate of Cro' Martin, to be sure.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Then we'll dine there. I'll order a chaise at four o'clock, and we 'll
+drive over together. And now, I 'll just return to the house, for this
+wading here is not much to my taste.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Mr. Merl returned gloomily to the house, his mind too deeply occupied with
+his own immediate interests to bestow any thought upon Mary Martin. The
+weather assuredly offered but little inducement to linger out of doors,
+for, as the morning wore on, the rain and wind increased in violence,
+while vast masses of mist swept over the sea and were carried on shore,
+leaving only, at intervals, little patches of the village to be seen,&mdash;dreary,
+storm-beaten, and desolate! Merl shuddered, as he cast one last look at
+this sad-colored picture, and entered the inn.
+</p>
+<p>
+Has it ever been your ill-fortune, good reader, to find yourself alone in
+some dreary, unfrequented spot, the weather-bound denizen of a sorry inn,
+without books or newspapers, thrown upon the resources of your own
+thoughts, so sure to take their color from the dreary scene around them?
+It is a trying ordeal for the best of tempers. Your man of business chafes
+and frets against the inactivity; your man of leisure sorrows over
+monotony that makes idleness a penalty. He whose thoroughfare in life is
+the pursuit of wealth thinks of all those more fortunate than himself then
+hurrying on to gain, while he who is the mark of the world's flatteries
+and attentions laments over the dismal desolation of an uncompanionable
+existence.
+</p>
+<p>
+If Mr. Merl did not exactly occupy any one of these categories, he
+fancied, at least, that he oscillated amidst them all. It was, indeed, his
+good pleasure to imagine himself a &ldquo;man upon town,&rdquo; who played a little,
+discounted a little, dealt a little in old pictures, old china, old
+cabinets, and old plate, but all for mere pastime,&mdash;something, as he
+would say, &ldquo;to give him an interest in it;&rdquo; and there, certainly, he was
+right. Nothing so surely imparted an &ldquo;interest&rdquo; in Mr. Merl's eyes as
+having an investment. Objects of art, the greatest triumphs of genius,
+landscape the richest eye ever ranged over, political events that would
+have awakened a sense of patriotism in the dullest and coldest, all came
+before him as simple questions of profit and loss.
+</p>
+<p>
+If he was not actually a philosopher, some of his views of life were
+characterized by great shrewdness. He had remarked, for instance, that the
+changeful fashions of the world are ever alternating; and that not only
+dress and costume and social customs undergo mutations, but that objects
+of positive sterling value are liable to the same wayward influences. We
+are all modern to-day, to-morrow we may be &ldquo;Louis Quatorze,&rdquo; the next day
+&ldquo;Cinque Centi&rdquo; in our tastes. Now we are mad after Italian art, yesterday
+the Dutch school was in vogue. Our galleries, our libraries, our houses,
+our gardens, all feel the caprices of these passing moods. There was but
+one thing that Mr. Merl had perceived never changed, and that was the
+estimation men felt for money. Religions might decay, and states crumble,
+thrones totter, and kings be exiled, Cuyps might be depreciated and
+marquetry be held in mean esteem; but gold was always within a fraction at
+least of four pounds eleven shillings the ounce!
+</p>
+<p>
+He remarked, too, that men gradually grow tired of almost everything; the
+pursuits of the young are not those of the middle-aged, still less of
+advanced life. The books which we once cried over are now thrown down with
+languor; the society we imagined perfection we now smile at for its very
+absurdities. We see vulgarity where we once beheld vigor; we detect
+exaggeration where we used to attribute power. There is only one theme of
+which our estimation never varies,&mdash;wealth! Mr. Merl had never yet
+met the man nor the woman who really despised it; nay, he had seen kings
+trafficking on 'Change. He had known great ministers deep speculators on
+the Bourse; valiant admirals, distinguished generals, learned judges, and
+even divines, had bought and sold with him, all eager in the pursuit of
+gain, and all employing, to the best of their ability, the high faculties
+of their intelligence to assist them in making crafty bargains.
+</p>
+<p>
+If these experiences taught him the universal veneration men feel for
+wealth, they also conveyed another lesson, which was, the extreme
+gullibility of mankind. He met every day men who ruled cabinets and
+commanded fleets,&mdash;the reputed great of the earth,&mdash;and saw them
+easier victims in his hand than the commonest capacity in &ldquo;Leadenhall
+Street.&rdquo; They had the earliest information, but could not profit by it;
+they never understood the temper on 'Change, knew nothing of the
+variations of the money-barometer, and invariably fell into snares that
+your city man never incurred. Hence Mr. Merl came to conceive a very low
+general opinion of what he himself called &ldquo;the swells,&rdquo; and a very high
+one of Herman Merl.
+</p>
+<p>
+If we have dwelt upon these traits of this interesting individual in this
+place, it is simply to place before our reader's mind the kind of
+lucubrations such a man might be disposed to indulge in. In fact,
+story-tellers like ourselves have very little pretension to go beyond the
+narrow limit; and having given to the reader the traits of a character,
+they must leave their secret working more or less to his ingenuity. So
+much, however, we are at liberty to declare, that Mr. Merl was terribly
+bored, and made no scruple of confessing it.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;What the deuce are you staring at? Is there anything really to be seen in
+that confounded dreary sea?&rdquo; cried he, as Crow stood shading his eyes from
+the lightning flashes, and intently gazing on the scene without.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;That's one of the effects Backhuysen was so fond of!&rdquo; exclaimed Crow,
+eagerly,&mdash;&ldquo;a sullen sea, lead-colored and cold, with a white curl
+just crisping the top of the waves, over it a dreary expanse of dark sky,
+low-lying and black, till you come near the horizon, where there is a
+faint line of grayish white, just enough to show that you are on the wide,
+wide ocean, out of sight of land, and nothing living near, except that
+solitary sea-gull perched upon the breakers there. There's real poetry in
+a bit like that; it sets one a thinking over the desolation of those whose
+life is little better than a voyage on such a sea!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Better be drowned at once,&rdquo; broke in Merl, impatiently.
+</p>
+<p>
+Crow started and looked at him; and had Merl but seen that glance, so
+scornful and contemptuous was it, even his self-esteem might have felt
+outraged. But he had not remarked it; and as little did he guess what was
+then passing in the poor artist's mind, as Crow muttered to himself, &ldquo;I
+know one that will not be your guest to-day, if he dines on a cold potato,
+or does n't dine at all.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Did I tell you,&rdquo; cried he, suddenly, &ldquo;that there's no horses to be had?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;No horses!&rdquo; exclaimed Merl; &ldquo;how so?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;There's a great trial going on at the assizes to-day, and Mr. Barry is
+gone on to Oughterard to hear it, and he has the only pair of posters in
+the place.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;What a confounded hole!&rdquo; burst out Merl, passionately. &ldquo;That I ever
+should have set my foot in it! How are we to get through the day here?
+Have you thought of anything to be done?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;<i>I'll</i> go down and find out how poor Landy is,&rdquo; said Crow; &ldquo;for Miss
+Mary's horse is still at the door, and he must be very bad, indeed, or she
+wouldn't delay so long.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And what if it should turn out the cholera, or typhus, or something as
+bad?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Well?&rdquo; said Crow, interrogatively; for he could not guess the drift of
+the suggestion.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Simply this, my worthy friend,&rdquo; resumed Merl,&mdash;&ldquo;that I have no fancy
+for the pleasure of your company at dinner after such an excursion as you
+speak of.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I was just going to say that myself,&rdquo; said Crow. &ldquo;Good-bye!&rdquo; And before
+Merl could interpose a word, he was gone.
+</p>
+<p>
+<a name="link2HCH0012" id="link2HCH0012">
+<!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+</p>
+<div style="height: 4em;">
+<br /><br /><br /><br />
+</div>
+<h2>
+CHAPTER XII. MR. MERL'S MEDITATIONS.
+</h2>
+<p>
+Our last chapter left Mr. Herman Merl in bad company,&mdash;he was alone.
+Now, very few men's thoughts are companionable in the dreary solitude of a
+sorry inn. None of us, it is to be feared, are totally exempt from &ldquo;this
+world's crosses;&rdquo; and though the sorrows of life do fall very unequally,
+the light afflictions are accepted as very heavy burdens by those to whose
+lot they fall!
+</p>
+<p>
+Just as it happens, then, on some gloomy day of winter, when we have
+&ldquo;finished our book,&rdquo; and the newspapers are tiresome, we take the
+opportunity to look through our letters and papers,&mdash;to arrange our
+desk, and put a little order in our scattered and littered memoranda,&mdash;somewhat
+in the same spirit will Conscience grasp a similar moment to go over the
+past, glance at bygone events, and make, as it were, a clearance of
+whatever weighs upon our memory. I 'm not quite certain that the best of
+us come out of this Bankruptcy Court with a first-class certificate. Even
+the most merciful to his own errors will acknowledge that in many things
+he should do differently were they to be done over again; and he must,
+indeed, have fallen upon a happy lot in life who has not some
+self-reproach on the score of kindness unrequited,&mdash;slight injuries
+either unforgiven or unequally avenged,&mdash;friendships jeopardized,
+mayhap lost, by some mere indulgence of temper,&mdash;and enmities
+unreconciled, just for lack of the veriest sacrifice of self-love.
+</p>
+<p>
+Were there any such court in morals as in law, what a sad spectacle would
+our schedule show, and how poor even the most solvent amongst us, if
+called on for a list of his liabilities!
+</p>
+<p>
+Lest our moralizing should grow uncomfortable, dear reader, let us return
+to Mr. Merl, now occupied, as he was, in this same process of
+self-examination. He sat with a little note-book before him, recalling
+various incidents of the past. And if the lowering expression of his face
+might be trusted, his reveries were not rose-colored; and yet, as he
+turned over the pages, it might be seen that moments of gratulation
+alternated with the intervals of self-reproach.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Wednesday, the 10th,&rdquo; muttered he to himself, &ldquo;dined at Philippe's&mdash;supped
+with Arkright and Bailey&mdash;whist at double Nap. points&mdash;won four
+hundred and ten&mdash;might have made it a thousand, but B. flung the
+cards out of the window in a passion, and had to cease playing.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Thursday&mdash;toothache&mdash;stayed at home, and played piquet with
+myself&mdash;discovered two new combinations, in taking in cards&mdash;Irving
+came to see me&mdash;won from him twenty pounds his mother had just sent
+him.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Friday&mdash;a good day's work&mdash;walked into Martin for two thousand
+seven hundred, and took his bill at three months, with promise to renew&mdash;dined
+with Sitwell, and sold him my Perugino for six hundred&mdash;cost myself
+not as many francs&mdash;am to have the refusal of all Vanderbrett's
+cabinets for letting him off his match with Columbine, which, by the way,
+he was sure to win, as Mope is dead lame.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Martin again&mdash;Saturday&mdash;came to have his revenge, but seemed
+quarrelsome; so I affected an engagement, and declined play.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Sunday&mdash;gave him his revenge, to the tune of twelve hundred in my
+own favor&mdash;'Lansquenet' in the evening at his rooms&mdash;several
+swells present&mdash;thought it prudent to drop some tin, and so, lost one
+hundred and forty Naps.&mdash;Sir Giles Bruce the chief winner&mdash;rich,
+and within two months of being of age.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Monday&mdash;the Perugino returned as a bad copy by Fava&mdash;took it at
+once, and said I was taken in myself&mdash;Sitwell so pleased that he sat
+down to écarté, and lost two hundred to me. I dine with him to-morrow.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Tuesday&mdash;blank&mdash;dinner at Sitwell's&mdash;met Colonel Cardie,
+whom I saw at Hombourg, and so refused to play. It was, I suspect, a plan
+of Sitwell's to pit us against each other.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Wednesday&mdash;sold out my African at seventy-one and an eighth&mdash;realized
+well, and bought in Poyais, which will rise for at least ten days to come&mdash;took
+Canchard's château at Ghent for his old debt at écarté&mdash;don't like
+it, as it may be talked about.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Gave a dinner to Wilson, Morris, Leader, Whyte, and Martin&mdash;Lescour
+could n't come&mdash;played little whist afterwards&mdash;changed for
+hazard after supper&mdash;won a few Naps., and home to bed.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Took Rigby's curricle and horses for the two hundred he owes me&mdash;glad
+to have done with him&mdash;he evidently wanted a row&mdash;and so play
+with him no more.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Sent ten Naps, to the fund for the poor injured by the late inundations,
+as the police called to ask about my passport, &amp;c.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Saturday&mdash;the Curé of St. Rochette, to ask for alms&mdash;gave three
+hundred francs, and secured his services against the police&mdash;the curé
+mentions some curious drawings in the sacristy&mdash;promised to go and
+see them.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Bought Walrond's library for a franc a volume&mdash;the Elzevirs alone
+worth double the amount paid&mdash;Bailey bolted, and so lose his last
+bills&mdash;Martin quarrelsome&mdash;said he never yet won at any sitting
+with me&mdash;lost seventy to him, and sent him home satisfied.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Gave five hundred francs for the drawings at St. R&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;,
+abominable daubs; but the police grow more troublesome every day&mdash;besides,
+Crowthorpe is collecting early studies of Rembrandt&mdash;these sketches
+are marked R.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;A great evening&mdash;cleared Martin out&mdash;suspect that this night's
+work makes me an Irish estated gentleman&mdash;must obtain legal opinion
+as to these same Irish securities and post-obits, involving, as they do, a
+heavy sum.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Mr. Merl paused at this <i>entrée</i> in his diary, and began to reflect
+in no very gratulatory mood on the little progress he had as yet made in
+this same object of inquiry; in fact, he was just discovering what a vast
+number of more shrewd observers than himself have long since found out,
+that exploring in Ireland is rather tough work. Everything looks so easy
+and simple and plain upon the surface, and yet is so puzteling and
+complicated beneath; all seems so intelligible, where there is nothing in
+reality that is not a contradiction. It is true he was not harassing
+himself with problems of labor and wages, the condition of the people, the
+effects of emigration, and so forth. He wanted to ascertain some few facts
+as to the value of a certain estate, and what incumbrances it might be
+charged with; and to the questions he put on this head, every reply was an
+insinuated interrogatory to himself. &ldquo;Why are <i>you</i> here, Mr. Merl?&rdquo;
+ &ldquo;How does it concern <i>you?</i>&rdquo; &ldquo;What may be <i>your</i> interest in the
+same investigation?&rdquo; This peculiar dialectic met him as he landed; it
+followed him to the West. Scanlan, the landlord, even that poor simpleton
+the painter&mdash;as he called Crow&mdash;had submitted him to its harsh
+rule, till Mr. Merl felt that, instead of pursuing an examination, he was
+himself everlastingly in the witness-box.
+</p>
+<p>
+Wearied of these speculations, dissatisfied with himself and his fruitless
+journey, he summoned the landlord to ask if that &ldquo;old gent&rdquo; above stairs
+had not a book of some kind, or a newspaper, he could lend him. A ragged
+urchin speedily returned with a key in his hand, saying, &ldquo;That's the key
+of No. 4. Joe says you may go up and search for yourself.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+One more scrupulous might not exactly have fancied the office thus
+suggested to him. He, however, was rather pleased with the investigation,
+and having satisfied himself that the mission was safe, set forth to
+fulfil it. No. 4, as the stranger's room was called, was a large and lofty
+chamber, lighted by a single bay-window, the deep recess of which was
+occupied by a writing-table. Books, maps, letters, and drawings littered
+every part of the room. Costly weapons, too, such as richly chased daggers
+and inlaid pistols, lay carelessly about, with curiously shaped pipes and
+gold-embroidered tobacco-bags; a richly lined fur pelisse covered the
+sofa, and a skull-cap of the very finest sable lay beside it. All these
+were signs of affluence and comfort, and Mr. Merl pondered over them as he
+went from place to place, tossing over one thing after another, and losing
+himself in wild conjectures about the owner.
+</p>
+<p>
+The writing-table, we have said, was thickly strewn with letters, and to
+these he now addressed himself in all form, taking his seat comfortably
+for the investigation. Many of the letters were in foreign languages, and
+from remote and far-away lands. Some he was enabled to spell out, but they
+referred to places and events he had never heard of, and were filled with
+allusions he could not fathom. At length, however, he came to documents
+which interested him more closely. They were notes, most probably in the
+stranger's own hand, of his late tour along the coast. Mournful records
+were they all,&mdash;sad stories of destitution and want, a whole people
+struck down by famine and sickness, and a land perishing in utter misery.
+No personal narrative broke the dreary monotony of these gloomy records,
+and Merl searched in vain for what might give a clew to the writer's
+station or his object. Carefully drawn-up statistics, tables of the
+varying results of emigration, notes upon the tenure of land and the price
+of labor were all there, interspersed with replies from different quarters
+to researches of the writer's making. Numerous appeals to charity,
+entreaties for small loans of money, were mingled with grateful
+acknowledgments for benefits already received. There was much, had he been
+so minded, that Mr. Merl might have learned in this same unauthorized
+inquiry. There were abundant traits of the people displayed, strange
+insight into customs and ways peculiar to them, accurate knowledge, too,
+of the evils of their social condition; and, above all, there were the
+evidences of that curious compound of credulity and distrust, hope and
+fatalism, energy and inertness, which make up the Irish nature.
+</p>
+<p>
+He threw these aside, however, as themes that had no interest for him.
+What had he to do with the people? His care was with the soil, and less
+even with it than with its burdens and incumbrances. One conviction
+certainly did impress itself strongly upon him,&mdash;that he 'd part with
+his claims on the estate for almost anything, in preference to himself
+assuming the cares and duties of an Irish landlord,&mdash;a position which
+he summed up by muttering to himself, &ldquo;is simply to have so many acres of
+bad land, with the charge of feeding so many thousands of bad people.&rdquo;
+ Here were suggestions, it is true, how to make them better, coupled with
+details that showed the writer to be one well acquainted with the
+difficulties of his task; here, also, were dark catalogues of crime,
+showing how destitution and vice went hand in hand, and that the seasons
+of suffering were those of lawlessness and violence. Various hands were
+detectable in these documents. Some evinced the easy style and graceful
+penmanship of education; others were written in the gnarled hand of the
+daily, laborer. Many of these were interlined in what Merl soon detected
+to be the stranger's own handwriting; and brief as such remarks were, they
+sufficed to show how carefully their contents had been studied by him.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;What could be the object of all this research? Was he some emissary of
+the Government, sent expressly to obtain this knowledge? Was he employed
+by some section of party politicians, or was he one of those literary
+philanthropists who trade upon the cheap luxury of pitying the poor and
+detailing their sorrows? At all events,&rdquo; thought Mr. Merl, &ldquo;this same
+information seems to have cost him considerable research, and not a little
+money; and as I am under a pledge to give the Captain some account of his
+dear country, here is a capital opportunity to do so, not only with ease,
+but actually with honor.&rdquo; And having formed this resolve, he instantly
+proceeded to its execution. That wonderful little note-book, with its
+strong silver clasps, so full of strange and curious information, was now
+produced; but he soon saw that the various facts to be recorded demanded a
+wider space, and so he set himself to write down on a loose sheet of paper
+notices of the land in tillage or in pasture, the numerical condition of
+the people as compared with former years, their state, their prospects;
+but when he came to tell of the ravages made and still making by
+pestilence amongst them, he actually stopped to reread the records, so
+terrible and astounding were the facts narrated. A dreadful malady walked
+the land, and its victims lay in every house! The villages were
+depopulated, the little clusters of houses at cross roads were stricken,
+the lone shealing on the mountain side, the miserable cottage of the
+dreary moor, were each the scenes of desolation and death. It was as
+though the land were about to be devastated, and the race of man swept
+from its surface! As he read on, he came upon some strictures in the
+stranger's own hand upon these sad events, and perceived how terribly had
+the deserted, neglected state of the people aided the fatal course of the
+epidemic. No hospitals had been provided, no stores of any remedial kind,
+not a doctor for miles around, save an old physician who had been retained
+at Miss Martin's special charge, and who was himself nigh exhausted by the
+fatigue of his office.
+</p>
+<p>
+Mr. Merl laid down his pen to think,&mdash;not, indeed, in any
+compassionate spirit of that suffering people; his sorrows were not for
+those who lay on beds of want and sickness; his whole anxiety was for a
+certain person very dear to his own heart, who had rashly accepted
+securities on a property which, to all seeming, was verging upon ruin;
+this conviction being strongly impressed by the lawless state of the
+country, and the hopelessness of expecting payment from a tenantry so
+circumstanced.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Sympathy, indeed!&rdquo; cried he; &ldquo;I should like to hear of a little sympathy
+for the unlucky fellow who has accepted a mortgage on this confounded
+estate! These wretched creatures have little to lose,&mdash;and even death
+itself ought to be no unwelcome relief to a life like theirs,&mdash;but to
+a man such as I am, with abundance of projects for his spare cash, this is
+a pretty investment! It is not impossible that this philanthropic
+stranger, whoever he be, might buy up my bonds. He should have them a
+bargain,&mdash;ay, by Jove! I'd take off a jolly percentage to touch the
+'ready;' and who knows, what with all his benevolence, his charity, and
+his Christian kindliness, if he 'd not come down handsomely to rescue this
+unhappy people from the hands of a Jew!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+And Mr. Merl laughed pleasantly, for the conceit amused him, and it
+sounded gratefully to his imagination that even his faith could be put out
+to interest, and the tabernacle be turned to good account. The noise of a
+chaise approaching at a sharp trot along the shingly beach startled him
+from his musings, and he had barely time to snatch up the paper on which
+he had scrawled his notes, and hasten downstairs, when the obsequious
+landlord, rushing to the door, ushered in Mr. Barry, and welcomed him back
+again.
+</p>
+<p>
+Merl suffered his door to stand ajar, that he might take a look at the
+stranger as he passed. He was a very large, powerfully built man, somewhat
+stooped by age, but showing even in advanced years signs of a vigorous
+frame and stout constitution; his head was massive, and covered with
+snow-white hair, which descended on the back of his neck. His countenance
+must in youth have been handsome, and even yet bore the expression of a
+frank, generous, but somewhat impetuous nature,&mdash;so at least it
+struck him who now observed it; a character not improbably aided by his
+temper as he entered, for he had returned from scenes of misery and
+suffering, and was in a mood of indignation at the neglect he had just
+witnessed.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You said truly,&rdquo; said he to the landlord. &ldquo;You told me I shouldn't see a
+gentleman for twenty miles round; that all had fled and left the people to
+their fate, and I see now it is a fact.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Faix, and no wonder,&rdquo; answered the host. &ldquo;Wet potatoes and the shaking
+ague, not to speak of cholera morbus, is n't great inducements to stay and
+keep company with. I 'd be off, too, if I had the means.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;But I spoke of gentlemen, sir,&rdquo; said the stranger, with a strong emphasis
+on the word,&mdash;&ldquo;men who should be the first to prove their birth and
+blood when a season of peril was near.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Thrue for you, sir,&rdquo; chimed in Joe, who suddenly detected the blunder he
+had committed. &ldquo;The Martins ought not to have run away in the middle of
+our distress.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;They left the ship in a storm; they 'll find a sorry wreck when they
+return to it,&rdquo; muttered the stranger, as he ascended the stairs.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;By Jacob! just what I suspected,&rdquo; said Merl to himself, while he closed
+the door; &ldquo;this property won't be worth sixpence, and I am regularly
+'done.'&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+<a name="link2HCH0013" id="link2HCH0013">
+<!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+</p>
+<div style="height: 4em;">
+<br /><br /><br /><br />
+</div>
+<h2>
+CHAPTER XIII. A NIGHT OF STORM
+</h2>
+<p>
+The curtains were closely drawn, and a cheerful turf fire blazed in the
+room where Mr. Merl sat at dinner. The fare was excellent, and even rustic
+cookery sufficed to make fresh salmon and mountain mutton and fat
+woodcocks delectable; while the remains of Mr. Scanlan's hamper set forth
+some choice Madeira and several bottles of Sneyd's claret. Nor was he for
+whose entertainment these good things were provided in any way incapable
+of enjoying them. With the peculiar sensuality of his race, he loved his
+dinner all to himself and alone. He delighted in the privileged
+selfishness that isolation conferred, and he revelled in a sort of
+complacent flattery at the thought of all the people who were dining worse
+than himself, and the stray thousands besides who were not destined on
+that day to dine at all.
+</p>
+<p>
+The self-caressing shudder that came over him as the sound of a horse at
+speed on the shore outside was heard, spoke plainly as words themselves
+the pleasant comparison that crossed his mind between the condition of the
+rider and his own. He drew nearer the fire, he threw on a fresh log of
+pine, and, filling up a bumper, seemed to linger as he viewed it, as
+though wishing health and innumerable blessings to Mr. Herman Merl.
+</p>
+<p>
+The noise of the clattering hoofs died away in distance and in the greater
+uproar of the storm, and Mr. Merl thought no more of them. How often
+happens it, dear reader, that some brief interruption flashes through our
+seasons of enjoyment; we are startled, perhaps; we even need a word or two
+to reassure us that all is well, and then the work of pleasure goes on,
+and we forget that it had ever been retarded; and yet, depend upon it, in
+that fleeting second of time some sad episode of human life has, like a
+spectre, crossed our path, and some deep sorrow gone wearily past us.
+</p>
+<p>
+Let us follow that rider, then, who now, quitting the bleak shore, has
+entered a deep gorge between the mountain. The rain swept along in
+torrents; the wind in fitful gusts dashes the mountain stream in many a
+wayward shape, and snaps the stems of old trees in pieces; landslips and
+broken rocks impede the way; and yet that brave horse holds ever onward,
+now stretching to a fast gallop, now gathering himself to clear some
+foaming torrent, or some fragment of fallen timber.
+</p>
+<p>
+The night is so dark that the rider cannot see the horse's length in
+advance; but every feature of the way is well known, and an instinctive
+sense of the peril to be apprehended at each particular spot guides that
+hand and nerves that heart. Mary Martin&mdash;for she it is&mdash;had
+ridden that same path at all seasons and all hours, but never on a wilder
+night, nor through a more terrible hurricane than this. At moments her
+speed relaxed, as if to breathe her horse; and twice she pulled up short,
+to listen and distinguish between the sound of thunder and the crashing
+noise of rocks rolling from the mountain. There was a sublimity in the
+scene, lit up at moments by the lightning; and a sense of peril, too, that
+exalted the adventurous spirit of the girl, and imparted to her heart a
+high heroic feeling. The glorious sentiment of confronting danger animated
+and excited her; and her courage rose with each new difficulty of the way,
+till her very brain seemed to reel with the wild transport of her
+emotions.
+</p>
+<p>
+As she emerged from the gorge, she gained a high tableland, over which the
+wind swept unimpeded. Not a cliff, not a rock, not a tree, broke the force
+of the gale, which raged with all the violence of a storm at sea.
+Crouching low upon the saddle, stooping at times to the mane, she could
+barely make way against the hurricane; and more than once her noble
+charger was driven backward, and forced to turn his back to the storm. <i>Her</i>
+courage never failed. Taking advantage of every passing lull, she dashed
+forward, ready to wheel and halt when the wind shot past with violence.
+</p>
+<p>
+Descending at last from this elevated plateau, she again entered a deep
+cleft between the mountain, the road littered with fallen earth and
+branches of trees, so as almost to defy a passage. After traversing
+upwards of a mile of this wearisome way, she arrived at the door of a
+small cabin, the first trace of habitation since she had quitted the
+village. It was a mere hovel, abutting against a rock, and in its dreary
+solitude seemed the last refuge of direst poverty.
+</p>
+<p>
+She bent down from her saddle to look in at the window; but, except some
+faint embers on the hearth, all was dark within. She then knocked with her
+whip against the door, and called &ldquo;Morris&rdquo; two or three times; but no
+reply was given. Springing from her horse, Mary fastened the bridle to the
+hasp of the door-post, and entered. The heavy breathing of one in deep
+sleep at once caught her attention > and, approaching the fireplace, she
+lighted a piece of pine-wood to examine about her. On a low settle in one
+corner lay the figure of a young woman, whose pale, pinched features
+contrasted strongly with the bright ribbons of her cap floating loosely at
+either side. Mary tottered as she drew nigher; a terrible sense of fear
+was over her,&mdash;a terror of she knew not what. She held the flickering
+flame closer, and saw that she was dead! Poor Margaret, she had been one
+of Mary's chief favorites; the very cap that now decked her cold forehead
+was Mary's wedding-gift to her. But a few days before, her little child
+had been carried to the churchyard; and it was said that the mother never
+held up her head after. Sick almost to fainting, Mary Martin sank into a
+chair, and then saw, for the first time, the figure of a man, who, half
+kneeling, lay with his head on the foot of the bed, fast asleep!
+Weariness, utter exhaustion, were marked in his pale-worn features, while
+his attitude bespoke complete prostration. His hand still clasped a little
+rosary.
+</p>
+<p>
+<a name="linkimage-0006" id="linkimage-0006">
+<!-- IMG --></a>
+</p>
+<div class="fig" style="width:80%;">
+<img src="images/156.jpg" width="100%" alt="156 " />
+</div>
+<p>
+It seemed but the other day that she had wished them &ldquo;joy&rdquo; upon their
+wedding, and they had gone home to their little cabin in hopefulness and
+high-hearted spirit, and there she lay now a cold corpse, and he, bereaved
+and childless. What a deal of sad philosophy do these words reveal! What
+dark contrasts do we bring up when we say, &ldquo;It was but the other day.&rdquo; It
+was but &ldquo;the other day,&rdquo; and Cro' Martin was the home of one whose
+thriving tenantry reflected back all his efforts for their welfare, when
+movement and occupation bespoke a condition of activity and cheerful
+industry; when, even in their poverty, the people bore bravely up, and the
+cases of suffering but sufficed to call out traits of benevolence and kind
+feeling. It was but &ldquo;the other day,&rdquo; and Mary herself rode out amidst the
+people, like some beloved sovereign in the middle of her subjects; happy
+faces beamed brighter when she came, and even misery half forgot itself in
+her presence. But &ldquo;the other day&rdquo; and the flag waved proudly from the
+great tower, to show that Cro' Martin was the residence of its owner, and
+Mary the life and soul of all that household!
+</p>
+<p>
+Such-like were her thoughts as she stood still gazing on the sad scene
+before her. She could not bring herself to awaken the poor fellow, who
+thus, perchance, stole a short respite from his sorrows; but leaving some
+money beside him on a chair, and taking one farewell look of poor
+Margaret, she stole silently away, and remounted her horse.
+</p>
+<p>
+Again she is away through the storm and the tempest! Her pace is now urged
+to speed, for she knows every field and every fence,&mdash;where to press
+her horse to his gallop, where to spare and husband his strength. At one
+moment she steals carefully along amid fragments of fallen rocks and
+broken timber; at another, she flies, with racing speed, over the smooth
+sward. At length, through the gloom and darkness, the tall towers of Cro'
+Martin are seen over the deep woods; but her horse's head is not turned
+thitherward. No; she has taken another direction, and, skirting the wall
+of the demesne, she is off towards the wild, bleak country beyond. It is
+past midnight; not a light gleams from a cabin window as she dashes past;
+all is silent save the plashing rain, which, though the wind has abated,
+continues to fall in torrents. Crossing the bleak moor, whose yawning pits
+even in daylight suggest care and watchfulness, she gains the foot of the
+barren mountain on which Barnagheela stands, and descries in the distance
+the flickering of a light dimly traceable through the falling rain.
+</p>
+<p>
+For the first time her horse shows signs of fatigue, and Mary caresses him
+with her hand, and speaks encouragingly to him as she slackens her pace,
+ascending the hill at a slow walk. After about half an hour of this
+toilsome progress, for the surface is stony and rock-covered, she reaches
+the little &ldquo;boreen&rdquo; road which forms the approach to the house. Mary has
+never been there before, and advances now slowly and carefully between two
+rude walls of dry masonry which lead to the hall-door. As she nears the
+house, the gleam of lights from between the ill-closed shutters attracts
+her, and suddenly through the swooping rain come the sounds of several
+voices in tones of riot and revelry. She listens; and it is now the rude
+burst of applause that breaks forth,&mdash;a din of voices loudly
+proclaiming the hearty approval of some sentiment or opinion.
+</p>
+<p>
+While she halts to determine what course next to follow,&mdash;for these
+signs of revelry have disconcerted her,&mdash;she hears a rough, loud
+voice from within call out, &ldquo;There's another toast you must drink now, and
+fill for it to the brim. Come, Peter Hayes, no skulking; the liquor is
+good, and the sentiment the same. Gentlemen, you came here to-night to
+honor my poor house&mdash;my ancestral house, I may call it&mdash;on the
+victory we 've gained over tyranny and oppression.&rdquo; Loud cheers here
+interrupted him, but he resumed: &ldquo;They tried&mdash;by the aid of the law
+that they made themselves&mdash;to turn me out of my house and home. They
+did all that false swearing and forged writing could do, to drive me&mdash;me,
+Tom Magennis, the last of an ancient stock&mdash;out upon the highways.&rdquo;
+ (Groans from the hearers.) &ldquo;But they failed,&mdash;ay, gentlemen, they
+failed. Old Repton, with all his skill, and Scanlan, with all his
+treachery, could n't do it. Joe Nelligan, like Goliath&mdash;no, like
+David, I mean&mdash;put a stone between their two eyes, and laid them
+low.&rdquo; (Loud cheering, and cries of &ldquo;Why is n't he here?&rdquo; &ldquo;Where is he
+to-night?&rdquo;) &ldquo;Ay, gentlemen,&rdquo; resumed the speaker, &ldquo;ye may well ask where
+is he this night? when we are celebrating not only our triumph, but his;
+for it was the first brief he ever held,&mdash;the first guinea he ever
+touched for a fee! I 'll tell you where he is. Skulking&mdash;ay, that's
+the word for it&mdash;skulking in Oughterard,&mdash;hiding himself for
+shame because he beat the Martins!&rdquo; ( Loud expressions of anger, and some
+of dissent, here broke forth; some inveighing against this cowardice,
+others defending him against the charge.) &ldquo;Say what you like,&rdquo; roared
+Magennis; &ldquo;I know, and he knows that I know it. What was it he said when
+Mahony went to him with my brief? 'I'll not refuse to undertake the case,'
+said he, 'but I 'll not lend myself to any scurrilous attack upon the
+family at Cro' Martin!'&rdquo; (Groans.) &ldquo;Ay, but listen,&rdquo; continued he: &ldquo;'And
+if I find,' said he&mdash;'if I find that in the course of the case such
+an attempt should be made, I 'll throw down my brief though I never should
+hold another.' There's Joe Nelligan for you! There's the stuff you thought
+you 'd make a Patriot out of!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Say what you like, Tom Magennis, he's a credit to the town,&rdquo; said old
+Hayes, &ldquo;and he won your cause this day against one of the 'cutest of the
+Dublin counsellors.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;He did so, sir,&rdquo; resumed Magennis, &ldquo;and he got his pay, and there's
+nothing between us; and I told him so, and more besides; for I said, 'You
+may flatter them and crawl to them; you may be as servile as a serpent or
+a boa-constrictor to them; but take <i>my</i> word for it, Mister Joe,&mdash;or
+Counsellor Nelligan, if you like it better,&mdash;they'll never forget who
+and what you are,&mdash;the son of old Dan there, of the High Street,&mdash;and
+you 've a better chance to be the Chief Justice than the husband of Mary
+Martin!'&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You told him that!&rdquo; cried several together. &ldquo;I did, sir; and I believe
+for a minute he meant to strike me; he got pale with passion, and then he
+got red&mdash;blood red; and, in that thick way he has when he 's angry,
+he said, 'Whatever may be my hopes of the Bench, I'll not win my way to it
+by ever again undertaking the cause of a ruffian!' 'Do you mean <i>me?</i>'
+said I,&mdash;'do you mean <i>me?</i>' But he turned away into the house,
+and I never saw him since. If it had n't been for Father Neal there, I 'd
+have had him out for it, sir!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;We've other work before us than quarrelling amongst ourselves,&rdquo; said the
+bland voice of Father Rafferty; &ldquo;and now for your toast, Tom, for I 'm dry
+waiting for it.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Here it is, then,&rdquo; cried Magennis. &ldquo;A speedy downfall to the Martins!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;A speedy downfall to the Martins!&rdquo; was repeated solemnly in chorus; while
+old Hayes interposed, &ldquo;Barring the niece,&mdash;barring Miss Mary.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I won't except one,&rdquo; cried Magennis. &ldquo;My august leader remarked, 'It was
+false pity for individuals destroyed the great revolution of France.' It
+was&mdash;&rdquo; Mary did not wait for more, but, turning her horse's head,
+moved slowly around towards the back of the house.
+</p>
+<p>
+Through a wide space, of which the rickety broken gate hung by a single
+hinge, Mary entered a large yard, a court littered with disabled carts,
+harrows, and other field implements, all equally unserviceable. Beneath a
+low shed along one of the walls stood three or four horses, with harness
+on them, evidently belonging to the guests assembled within. All these
+details were plainly visible by the glare of an immense fire which blazed
+on the kitchen hearth, and threw its light more than half-way across the
+yard. Having disposed of her horse at one end of the shed, Mary stealthily
+drew nigh the kitchen window, and looked in. An old, very old woman, in
+the meanest attire, sat crouching beside the fire; and although she held a
+huge wooden ladle in her hand, seemed, by her drooped head and bent-down
+attitude, either moping or asleep. Various cooking utensils were on the
+fire, and two or three joints of meat hung roasting before it, while the
+hearth was strewn with dishes, awaiting the savory fare that was to fill
+them.
+</p>
+<p>
+These, and many other indications of the festivity then going on within,
+Mary rapidly noticed; but it was evident, from the increasing eagerness of
+her gaze, that the object which she sought had not yet met her eye.
+Suddenly, however, the door of the kitchen opened and a figure entered, on
+which the young girl bent all her attention. It was Joan Landy, but how
+different from the half-timid, half-reckless peasant girl that last we saw
+her! Dressed in a heavy gown of white satin, looped up on either side with
+wreaths of flowers, and wearing a rich lace cap on her head, she rushed
+hurriedly in, her face deeply flushed, and her eyes sparkling with
+excitement. Hastily snatching up a check apron that lay on a chair, she
+fastened it about her, and drew near the fire. It was plain from her
+gesture, as she took the ladle from the old woman's hand, that she was
+angry, and by her manner seemed as if rebuking her. The old crone,
+however, only crouched lower, and spreading out her wasted fingers towards
+the blaze, appeared insensible to everything addressed to her. Meanwhile
+Joan busied herself about the fire with all the zealous activity of one
+accustomed to the task. Mary watched her intently; she scrutinized with
+piercing keenness every lineament of that face, now moved by its passing
+emotions, and she muttered to herself, &ldquo;Alas, I have come in vain!&rdquo; Nor
+was this depressing sentiment less felt as Joan, turning from the fire,
+approached a fragment of a broken looking-glass that stood against the
+wall. Drawing herself up to her full height, she stood gazing proudly,
+delightedly, at her own figure. The humble apron, too, was speedily
+discarded, and as she trampled it beneath her feet she seemed to spurn the
+mean condition of which it was the symbol. Mary Martin sighed deeply as
+she looked, and muttered once more, &ldquo;In vain!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Then suddenly starting, with one of those bursts of energy which so often
+had steeled her heart against peril, she walked to the kitchen-door,
+raised the latch, and entered. She had made but one step within the door
+when Joan turned and beheld her; and there they both stood, silently, each
+surveying the other. Mary felt too intensely the difficulty of the task
+before her to utter a word without well weighing the consequences. She
+knew how the merest accident might frustrate all she had in view, and
+stood hesitating and uncertain, when Joan, who now recognized her,
+vacillated between her instinctive sense of respect and a feeling of
+defiance in the consciousness of where she was. Happily for Mary the
+former sentiment prevailed, and in a tone of kindly anxiety Joan drew near
+her and said,&mdash;&ldquo;Has anything happened? I trust in God no accident has
+befell you.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Thank God, nothing worse than a wetting,&rdquo; said Mary,&mdash;&ldquo;some little
+fatigue; and I'll think but little of either if they have brought me here
+to a good end. May I speak with you alone,&mdash;quite alone?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Come in here,&rdquo; said Joan, pushing open the door of a small room off the
+kitchen which served for a species of larder,&mdash;&ldquo;come in here.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I have come on a sad errand,&rdquo; said Mary, taking her hand between both her
+own, &ldquo;and I would that it had fallen to any other than myself. It is for
+you to decide that! have not come in vain.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;What is it? tell me what it is?&rdquo; cried Joan, as a sudden paleness spread
+over her features.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;These are days of sorrow and mourning everywhere,&rdquo; said Mary, gloomily.
+&ldquo;Can you not guess what my tidings may be? No, no,&rdquo; cried she, as a sudden
+gesture of Joan interrupted her,&mdash;&ldquo;no, not yet; he is still alive,
+and entreats to see you.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;To curse me again, is it?&rdquo; cried the other, wildly; &ldquo;to turn me from the
+door, and pray down curses on me,&mdash;is it for that he wants to see
+me?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Not for that, indeed,&rdquo; said Mary; &ldquo;it is to see you&mdash;to give you his
+last kiss&mdash;his last blessing&mdash;to forgive you and be forgiven.
+Remember that he is alone, deserted by all that once were his. Your father
+and mother and sisters are all gone to America, and poor old Mat lingers
+on,&mdash;nay, the journey is nigh ended. Oh, do not delay, lest it be too
+late. Come now&mdash;now.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And if I see him once, can I ever come back to this?&rdquo; cried Joan, in
+bitter agony. &ldquo;Will I ever be able to hear his words and live as I do
+now?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+<a name="linkimage-0007" id="linkimage-0007">
+<!-- IMG --></a>
+</p>
+<div class="fig" style="width:80%;">
+<img src="images/162.jpg" width="100%" alt="162 " />
+</div>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Let your own good heart guide you for that,&rdquo; cried Mary; &ldquo;all I ask is
+that you should see him and be with him. I have pledged myself for your
+coming, and you will not dishonor my words to one on his death-bed.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And I 'll be an outcast for it. Tom will drive me from the door and never
+see me again. I know it,&mdash;I know <i>him</i>!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You are wrong, Joan Landy.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Joan!&mdash;who dares to call me Joan Landy when I'm Mrs. Magennis of
+Barnagheela? and if <i>I'm</i> not <i>your</i> equal, I 'm as good as any
+other in the barony. Was it to insult me you came here to-night, to bring
+up to me who I am and where I came from? That 's the errand that brought
+you through the storm! Ay,&rdquo; cried she, lashed to a wilder passion by her
+own words,&mdash;&ldquo;ay! ay! and if you and yours had their will we 'd not
+have the roof to shelter us this night. It 's only to-day that we won the
+trial against you.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Whatever my errand here this night,&rdquo; said Mary, with a calm dignity, &ldquo;it
+was meant to serve and not insult you. I know, as well as your bitterest
+words can tell me, that this is not my place; but I know, too, if from
+yielding to my selfish pride I had refused your old grandfather this last
+request, it had been many a year of bitter reproach to me.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Oh, you 'll break my heart, you will, you will!&rdquo; cried Joan, bitterly.
+&ldquo;You 'll turn the only one that's left against me, and I 'll be alone in
+the world.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Come with me this night, and whatever happen I 'll befriend you,&rdquo; said
+Mary.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And not desert me because I 'm what I am?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Never, Joan, never!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Oh, my blessings on you,&mdash;if the blessing of one like me is any
+good,&rdquo; cried she, kissing Mary's hand fervently. &ldquo;Oh, they that praised
+you said the truth; you have goodness enough in your heart to make up for
+us all! I 'll go with you to the world's end.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;We'll pass Cro' Martin, and you shall have my horse&mdash;&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;No, no, Miss Mary, I 'll go on my feet; it best becomes me. I 'll go by
+Burnane&mdash;by the Gap&mdash;I know it well&mdash;too well!&rdquo; added she,
+as the tears rushed to her eyes. As she was speaking, she took off the cap
+she wore and threw it from her; and then removing her dress, put on the
+coarse woollen gown of her daily wear. &ldquo;Oh, God forgive me!&rdquo; cried she,
+&ldquo;if I curse the day that I ever wore better than this.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Mary assisted her with her dress, fastening the hood of her cloak over her
+head, and preparing her, as best she might, for the severe storm she was
+to encounter; and it was plain to see that Joan accepted these little
+services without a thought of by whom they were rendered, so intensely
+occupied was her mind by the enterprise before her. A feverish haste to be
+away marked all she did. It was partly terror lest her escape might be
+prevented; partly a sense of distrust in herself, and that she might
+abandon her own resolution.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Oh, tell me,&rdquo; she cried, as the tears streamed from her eyes, and her
+lips quivered with agony,&mdash;&ldquo;oh, tell me I'm doing right; tell me that
+God's blessing is going with me this night, or I can't do it.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And so it is, dear Joan,&rdquo; said Mary; &ldquo;be of good heart, and Heaven will
+support you. I 'm sure the trial is a sore one.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Oh, is it not to leave this&mdash;to leave him&mdash;maybe forever? To be
+sure, it's forever,&rdquo; cried she, bitterly. &ldquo;He 'll never forgive me!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+A wild burst of revelry now resounded from the parlor, and the discordant
+sounds of half-drunken voices burst upon their ears.
+</p>
+<p>
+Joan started, and gazed wildly around her. The agonized look of her
+features bespoke her dread of detection; and then with a bound she sprung
+madly from the spot, and was away. Mary followed quickly; but before she
+had secured her horse and mounted, the other was already half-way down the
+mountain. Now catching, now losing sight of her again, Mary at last came
+up with her.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Remember, dear Joan,&rdquo; said Mary, &ldquo;there are nine weary miles of mountain
+before you.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I know it well,&rdquo; was the brief reply.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And if you go by Burnane the rocks are slippy with the rain, and the path
+to the shore is full of danger.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;If I was afeard of danger, would I be here?&rdquo; cried she. &ldquo;Oh, Miss Mary,&rdquo;
+ added she, stopping and grasping her hand in both her own, &ldquo;leave me to
+myself; don't come with me,&mdash;it's not one like you ought to keep me
+company.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;But Joan,&mdash;dear Joan,&mdash;I have promised to be your friend, and I
+am not one who forgets a pledge.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;My heart will break; it will break in two if you talk to me. Leave me,
+for the love of Heaven, and let me go my road all alone. There, at the two
+trees there, is the way to Cro' Martin; take it, and may the Saints guide
+you safe home!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And if I do, Joan, will you promise me to come straight back to Cro'
+Martin after you 've seen him? Will you do this?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I will,&mdash;I will,&rdquo; cried she, bathing Mary's hand with her tears as
+she kissed it.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Then God bless and protect you, poor girl!&rdquo; said Mary. &ldquo;It is not for me
+to dictate to your own full heart. Goodbye,&mdash;good-bye.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Before Mary had dried the warm tears that rose to her eyes, Joan was gone.
+</p>
+<p>
+<a name="link2HCH0014" id="link2HCH0014">
+<!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+</p>
+<div style="height: 4em;">
+<br /><br /><br /><br />
+</div>
+<h2>
+CHAPTER XIV. THE END OF A BAR MESS
+</h2>
+<p>
+There are few things more puzzling to the uninitiated than the total
+separation lawyers are able to exercise between their private sentiments
+and the emotions they display in the wear and tear of their profession. So
+widely apart are these two characters, that it is actually difficult to
+understand how they ever can unite in one man. But so it is. He can pass
+his morning in the most virulent assaults upon his learned brother,
+ridiculing his law, laughing at his logic, arraigning his motives,&mdash;nay,
+sometimes ascribing to him some actually base and wicked. Altercations,
+heightened by all that passion stimulated by wit can produce, ensue.
+Nothing that can taunt, provoke, or irritate, is omitted. Personalities
+even are introduced to swell the acrimony of the contest; and yet, when
+the jury have given in their verdict and the court breaks up, the
+gladiators, who seemed only thirsting for each other's blood, are seen
+laughingly going homeward arm-in-arm, mayhap discoursing over the very
+cause which, but an hour back, seemed to have stamped them enemies for the
+rest of life.
+</p>
+<p>
+Doubtless there is a great deal to be pleased at in all this, and, we
+ought to rejoice in the admirable temper by which men can discriminate
+between the faithful performance of a duty and the natural course of their
+affections. Still, small-minded folk&mdash;of which wide category we own
+ourselves to be a part&mdash;may have their misgivings that the excellence
+of this system is not without its alloy, and that even the least ingenious
+of men will ultimately discover how much principle is sapped, and how much
+truthfulness of character is sacrificed in this continual struggle between
+fiction and reality.
+</p>
+<p>
+The Bar is the nursery of the Senate, and it would not be a very fanciful
+speculation were we to ascribe the laxity of purpose, the deficient
+earnestness, and the insincerity of principle we often deplore in our
+public men, to this same legal training.
+</p>
+<p>
+The old lawyer, however, finds no difficulty in the double character. With
+his wig and gown he puts on his sarcasm, his insolence, and his
+incredulity. His brief bag opens to him a Pandora's box of noxious
+influences; and as he passes the precincts of the court, he leaves behind
+him all the amenities of life and all the charities of his nature. The
+young barrister does not find the transmutation so easy. He gives himself
+unreservedly to his client, and does not measure his ardor by the
+instructions in his brief. Let us ask pardon of our reader for what may
+seem <i>a mal à propos</i> digression; but we have been led to these
+remarks by the interests of our story.
+</p>
+<p>
+It was in the large dining-room of the &ldquo;Martin Arms&rdquo; at Oughterard, that a
+party of lawyers spent the evening, some of whose events, elsewhere, our
+last chapter has recorded. It was the Bar mess of the Western Circuit, and
+the chair was filled by no less a person than &ldquo;Father Repton.&rdquo; This able
+&ldquo;leader&rdquo; had determined not to visit the West of Ireland so long as his
+friend Martin remained abroad; but a very urgent entreaty from Scanlan,
+and a pressing request for his presence, had induced him to waive that
+resolve, and come down special to Oughterard for the Magennis case.
+</p>
+<p>
+A simple case of ejectment could scarcely have called for that imposing
+array of learned counsel who had repaired to this unfrequented spot; so
+small a skirmish could never have called for the horse, foot, and dragoons
+of law,&mdash;the wily conveyancer, the clap-trap orator, the browbeater
+of witnesses, and the light sharpshooter at technicalities; and yet there
+they were all met, and&mdash;with all reverence be it spoken&mdash;very
+jolly companions they were.
+</p>
+<p>
+An admirable rule precluded the introduction of, or even an allusion to,
+professional subjects, save when the burden of a joke, whose success might
+excuse the transgression; and thus these crafty, keen intelligences
+argued, disputed, jested, and disported together, in a vein which less
+practised talkers would find it hard to rival. To the practice of these
+social amenities is doubtless ascribable the absence of any rancor from
+the rough contests and collisions of public life, and thus men of every
+shade of politics and party, differing even in class and condition, formed
+admirable social elements, and cohered together to perfection.
+</p>
+<p>
+As the evening wore on, the company insensibly thinned off. Some of the
+hard-workers retired early; a few, whose affectation it was to pretend
+engagements, followed. The &ldquo;juniors&rdquo; repaired in different groups to the
+chambers of their friends, where loo and brandy-and-water awaited them;
+and at last Repton was left, with only two others, sole occupants of that
+spacious apartment. His companions were, like himself, soldiers of the
+&ldquo;Vieille Garde&rdquo; veterans who remembered Curran and Lawrence Parsons, John
+Toler and Saurin, and a host of others, who only needed that the sphere
+should have been greater to be themselves among the great of the nation.
+</p>
+<p>
+Rawlins was Repton's schoolfellow, and had been his rival at the Bar for
+nigh fifty years. Niel, a few years younger than either, was the greatest
+orator of his time. Both had been opposed to Repton in the present suit,
+and had held heavy retainers for their services.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Well, Repton,&rdquo; said Rawlins, as soon as they were left thus to
+themselves, &ldquo;are you pondering over it still? I see that you can't get it
+out of your head.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;It is quite true, I cannot,&rdquo; said Repton. &ldquo;To summon us all down here,&mdash;to
+bring us some fifty miles away from our accustomed beat, for a trumpery
+affair like this, is totally beyond me. Had it been an election time, I
+should probably have understood it.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;How so?&rdquo; cried Niel, in the shrill piercing voice peculiar to him, and
+which imparted to him, even in society, an air of querulous irritability.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;On the principle that Bob Mahon always puts a thoroughbred horse in his
+gig when he drives over to a country race. He's always ready for a match
+with what he jocularly calls 'the old screw I 'm driving this minute;' so,
+Niel, I thought that the retainer for the ejectment might have turned out
+to be a special fee for the election.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And he 'd have given them a speech, and a rare good one, too, I promise
+you,&rdquo; said Rawlins; &ldquo;and even if he had not time to speak it, the county
+paper would have had it all printed and corrected from his own hand, with
+all the appropriate interruption of 'vociferous cheering,' and the places
+where the orator was obliged to pause, from the wild tumult of acclamation
+that surrounded him.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Which all resolves itself into this,&rdquo; screamed Niel,&mdash;&ldquo;that some
+men's after-grass is better than other men's meadows.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Mine has fallen to the scythe many a day ago,&rdquo; said Rawlins, plaintively;
+&ldquo;but I remember glorious times and glorious fellows. It was, indeed, worth
+something to say, '<i>Vixissi cum illis</i>.'&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;There 's another still better, Rawlins,&rdquo; cried Repton, joyously, &ldquo;which
+is to have survived them!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Very true,&rdquo; cried Niel. &ldquo;I 'd always plead a demurrer to any notice to
+quit; for, take it all in all, this life has many enjoyments.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Such as Attorney-Generalships, Masters of the Rolls, and such like,&rdquo; said
+Repton.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;By the way,&rdquo; said Rawlins, &ldquo;who put that squib in the papers about your
+having refused the rolls,&mdash;eh, Niel?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Who but Niel himself?&rdquo; chimed in Repton. &ldquo;It was filing a bill of
+discovery. He wanted to know the intentions of the Government.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I could have had but little doubt of them,&rdquo; broke in Niel. &ldquo;It was my
+advice, man, cancelled your appointment as Crown Counsel, Repton. I told
+Massingbred, 'If you do keep a watch-dog, let it be, at least, one who 'll
+bite some one beside the family.'&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;He has muzzled you there, Repton,&rdquo; said Rawlins, laughing. &ldquo;Eh, that was
+a bitter draught!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;So it was,&rdquo; said Repton. &ldquo;It was Curran wine run to the lees! and very
+unlike the racy flavor of the true liquor. And to speak in all
+seriousness, what has come over us all to be thus degenerate and fallen?
+It is not alone that we have not the equals of the first-rate men, but we
+really have nothing to compare with O'Grady, and Parsons, and a score of
+others.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I 'll tell you why,&rdquo; cried Niel,&mdash;&ldquo;the commodity is n't marketable.
+The stupid men, who will always be the majority everywhere, have got up
+the cry, that to be agreeable is to be vulgar. We know how large cravats
+came into fashion; tiresome people came in with high neckcloths.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I wish they 'd go out with hempen ones, then,&rdquo; muttered Repton.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I 'd not refuse them the benefit of the clergy,&rdquo; said Niel, with a
+malicious twinkle of the eye, that showed how gladly, when occasion
+offered, he flung a pebble at the Church.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;They were very brilliant,&mdash;they were very splendid, I own,&rdquo; said
+Rawlins; &ldquo;but I have certain misgivings that they gave themselves too much
+to society.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Expended too much of their powder in fireworks,&rdquo; cried Niel, sharply,&mdash;&ldquo;so
+they did; but their rockets showed how high they could rise to.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Ay, Niel, and we only burn our fingers with ours,&rdquo; said Repton,
+sarcastically.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Depend upon it,&rdquo; resumed Rawlins, &ldquo;as the world grows more practical, you
+will have less of great convivial display. Agreeability will cease to be
+the prerogative of first-rate men, but be left to the smart people of
+society, who earn their soup by their sayings.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;He's right,&rdquo; cried Niel, in his shrillest tone. &ldquo;The age of alchemists is
+gone; the sleight-of-hand man and the juggler have succeeded him.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And were they not alchemists?&rdquo; exclaimed old Repton, enthusiastically.
+&ldquo;Did they not transmute the veriest dross of the earth, and pour it forth
+from the crucible of their minds a stream of liquid gold?&mdash;glorious
+fellows, who, in the rich abundance of their minds, brought the learning
+of their early days to illustrate the wisdom of their age, and gave the
+fresh-heartedness of the schoolboy to the ripe intelligence of manhood.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And yet how little have they bequeathed to us!&rdquo; said Niel.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Would it were even less,&rdquo; broke in Repton. &ldquo;We read the witticism of
+brilliant conversera in some diary or journal, often ill recorded,
+imperfectly given, always unaccompanied by the accessories of the scene
+wherein they occurred. We have not the crash, the tumult, the headlong
+flow of social intercourse, where the impromptu fell like a thunderbolt,
+and the bon mots rattled like a fire of musketry. To attempt to convey an
+impression of these great talkers by a memoir, is like to picture a battle
+by reading out a list of the killed and wounded.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Repton is right!&rdquo; exclaimed Niel. &ldquo;The recorded bon mot is the words of a
+song without the music.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And often where it was the melody that inspired the verses,&rdquo; added
+Repton, always glad to follow up an illustration.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;After all,&rdquo; said Rawlins, &ldquo;the fashion of the day is changed in other
+respects as well as in conversational excellence. Nothing is like what we
+remember it!&mdash;literature, dress, social habits, oratory. There, for
+instance, was that young fellow to-day; his speech to the jury,&mdash;a
+very good and sensible one, no doubt,&mdash;but how unlike what it would
+have been some five-and-thirty or forty years ago.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;It was first-rate,&rdquo; said Repton, with enthusiasm. &ldquo;I say it frankly, and
+'fas est ab hoste,' for he tripped me up in a point of law, and I have,
+therefore, a right to applaud him. To tell you the truth,&rdquo; he added slyly,
+&ldquo;I knew I was making a revoke, but I thought none of the players were
+shrewd enough to detect me.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Niel and I are doubtless much complimented by the remark,&rdquo; said Rawlins.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Pooh, pooh!&rdquo; cried Repton, &ldquo;what did great guns like you and Niel care
+for such 'small deer.' You were only brought down here as a great <i>corps
+de réserve</i>. It was young Nelligan who fought the battle, and admirably
+he did it. While I was listening to him to-day, I could not help saying to
+myself, 'It's well for us that there were no fellows of this stamp in our
+day.' Ay, Rawlins, you know it well. We were speech-makers; these fellows
+are lawyers.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Why didn't he dine with us to-day?&rdquo; asked Niel, sharply.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Heaven knows. I believe his father lives in the town here; perhaps, too,
+he had no fancy for a dress-parade before such drill-sergeants as you and
+Rawlins there.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You are acquainted with him, I think?&rdquo; asked Rawlins.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yes, slightly; we met strangely enough, at Cro' Martin last year. He was
+then on a visit there, a quiet, timid youth, who actually seemed to feel
+as though his college successes were embarrassing recollections in a
+society who knew nothing of deans or proctors. There was another young
+fellow also there at the time,&mdash;young Massingbred,&mdash;with about a
+tenth of this man's knowledge, and a fiftieth of his capacity, who took
+the lead of him on every subject, and by the bare force of an admirable
+manner and a most unabashed impudence, threw poor Nelligan completely into
+the background. It was the same kind of thing I 've often seen Niel there
+perform at the Four Courts, where he has actually picked up his law from a
+worsted opponent, as a highwayman arms himself with the pistols of the man
+he has robbed.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I never pillaged <i>you</i>, Repton,&rdquo; said Niel, with a sarcastic smile.
+&ldquo;<i>You</i> had always the privilege the poet ascribes to him who laughs
+'before a robber.'&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Vacuus sed non Inanis,&rdquo; replied Repton, laughing good-humoredly.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;But tell us more of this man, Nelligan,&rdquo; said Rawlins. &ldquo;I 'm curious to
+hear about him.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And so you are sure to do some of these days, Rawlins. That fellow is the
+man to attain high eminence.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;His religion will stop him!&rdquo; cried Niel, sharply; for, being himself a
+Romanist, he was not sorry to have an opportunity of alluding to the
+disqualifying element.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Say, rather, it will promote him,&rdquo; chimed in Repton. &ldquo;Take my word for
+it, Niel, there is a spirit of mawkish reparation abroad which affects to
+feel that all your coreligionists have a long arrear due to them, and that
+all the places and emoluments so long withheld from their ancestors should
+be showered down upon the present generation;&mdash;pretty much upon the
+same principle that you 'd pension a man now because his grandfather had
+been hanged for rebellion!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And very justly, too, if you discovered that what you once called
+rebellion had been very good loyalty!&rdquo; cried Niel.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;We have not, however, made the discovery you speak of,&rdquo; said Rep ton; &ldquo;we
+have only commuted a sentence, in the sincere hope that you are wiser than
+your forefathers. But to come back. You may trust me when I say that a day
+is coming when you 'll not only bless yourself because you're a Papist,
+but that you <i>are</i> one! Ay, sir, it is in 'Liffey Street Chapel' we
+'ll seek for an attorney-general, and out of the Church of the Conception,
+if that be the name of it, we 'll cull our law advisers of the Crown. For
+the next five-and-twenty years, at least,&rdquo; said he, solemnly, &ldquo;the
+fourth-rate Catholic will be preferred to the first-rate Protestant.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I only hope you may be better at Prophecy than you are in Logic,&rdquo; cried
+Niel, as he tossed off his glass; &ldquo;and so, I 'm sure, does Nelligan!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And Nelligan is exactly the man who will never need the preference, sir.
+His abilities will raise him, even if there were obstacles to be
+surmounted. It is men of a different stamp that the system will favor,&mdash;fellows
+without industry for the toils of a laborious profession, or talents for
+the subtleties of a difficult career; men who cherish ambition and are yet
+devoid of capacity, and will plead the old disabilities of their faith,&mdash;pretty
+much as a man might claim his right to be thought a good dancer because
+his father had a club foot.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;A most lame conclusion!&rdquo; cried Niel. &ldquo;Ah, Rawlins,&rdquo; added he, with much
+compassion, &ldquo;our poor friend here is breaking terribly. Sad signs there
+are of decay about him. Even his utterance begins to fail him.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;No, no,&rdquo; said Repton, gayly. &ldquo;I know what you allude to. It is an old
+imperfection of mine not to be able to enunciate the letter <i>r</i>
+correctly, and that was the reason today in court that I called you my
+ingenious Bother; but I meant Brother, I assure you.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+They all laughed good-humoredly at the old man's sally; in good truth, so
+trained were they to these sort of combats, that they cared little for the
+wounds such warfare inflicted. And although the tilt was ever understood
+as with &ldquo;reversed lances,&rdquo; none ever cherished an evil memory if an
+unlucky stroke smote too heavily.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I have asked young Nelligan to breakfast with me tomorrow,&rdquo; said Repton;
+&ldquo;will you both come and meet him?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;We 're off at cock-crow!&rdquo; cried Kiel. &ldquo;Tell him, however, from me that I
+am delighted with his <i>débuts</i> and that all the best wishes of my
+friends and myself are with him.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+And so they parted.
+</p>
+<p>
+Repton, however, did not retire to bed at once; his mind was still intent
+upon the subject which had engaged him during the day, and as he walked to
+and fro in his room, he still dwelt upon it. Scanlan's instructions had
+led him to believe that the Martins were in this case to have been &ldquo;put
+upon their title;&rdquo; and the formidable array of counsel employed by
+Magennis seemed to favor the impression. Now it was true that a trifling
+informality in the service of the writ had quashed the proceedings for the
+present; but the question remained, &ldquo;Was the great struggle only reserved
+for a future day?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+It was clear that a man embarrassed as was Magennis could never have
+retained that strong bar of eminent lawyers. From what fund, then, came
+these resources? Was there a combination at work? And if so, to what end,
+and with what object?
+</p>
+<p>
+The crafty old lawyer pondered long and patiently over these things. His
+feelings might not inaptly be compared to those of a commandant of a
+garrison, who sees his stronghold menaced by an enemy he had never
+suspected. Confident as he is in the resources of his position, he yet
+cannot resist the impression that the very threat of attack has been
+prompted by some weakness of which he is unaware.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;To put us on our title,&rdquo; said he, &ldquo;implies a great war. Let us try and
+find out who and what are they who presume to declare it!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+<a name="link2HCH0015" id="link2HCH0015">
+<!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+</p>
+<div style="height: 4em;">
+<br /><br /><br /><br />
+</div>
+<h2>
+CHAPTER XV. A FIRST BRIEF
+</h2>
+<p>
+The reader has been already told that Joe Nelligan had achieved a great
+success in his first case. A disputed point of law had been raised, in
+itself insignificant, but involving in its train a vast variety of
+momentous interests. Repton, with an ingenuity all his own, had contrived
+to draw the discussion beyond its original limits, that he might entangle
+and embarrass the ambitious junior who had dared to confute him. Nelligan
+accepted the challenge at once, and after a stormy discussion of some
+hours came out the victor. For a while his timid manner, and an
+overpowering sense of the great odds against him, seemed to weigh
+oppressively on him. The very successes he had won elsewhere were really
+so many disparagements to him now, giving promise, as it were, of his
+ability. But, despite all these disadvantages, he entered the lists
+manfully and courageously.
+</p>
+<p>
+What a many-sided virtue is this same courage, and how prone is the world
+to award its praises unequally for it! We are enthusiastic for the gallant
+soldier the earliest in the breach, or the glorious sailor who first jumps
+upon the enemy's quarter-deck, and yet we never dream of investing with
+heroism him who dares to combat with the most powerful intellects of
+debate, or enters the field of argument against minds stored with vast
+resources of knowledge, and practised in all the subtleties of
+disputation.
+</p>
+<p>
+It is time, existence is not in the issue; but are there not things a
+thousand times dearer than life at peril? Think of him who has gone on
+from success to success; whose school triumphs have but heralded the riper
+glories of college life; who, rising with each new victory, is hailed by
+that dearest and best of all testimonies,&mdash;the prideful enthusiasm of
+his own age. Fancy him, the victor in every struggle, who has carried all
+before him,&mdash;the vaunted chief of his contemporaries,&mdash;fancy him
+beaten and worsted on his first real field of action. Imagine such a man,
+with all the prestige of his college fame, rudely encountered and overcome
+in the contest of public life, and say if any death ever equalled the
+suffering!
+</p>
+<p>
+Happily, our task has not to record any such failure in the present case.
+Young Nelligan sat down amidst the buzzing sound of approving voices, and
+received a warm eulogy from the Court on the promise of so conspicuous an
+opening. And a proud man was Dan Nelligan on that day! At any other time
+how deeply honored had he felt by the distinguished notice of the great
+dignitaries who now congratulated him on his son's success! With what
+pride had he accepted the polite recognition of Chief Barons and
+silk-gowned &ldquo;leaders&rdquo;! Now, however, his heart had but room for one
+thought,&mdash;Joe himself,&mdash;his own boy,&mdash;the little child as
+it were of yesterday, now a man of mark and note, already stamped with the
+impress of success in what, to every Irishman's heart at least, is the
+first of all professions. The High Sheriff shook old Nelligan's hand in
+open court, and said, &ldquo;It is an honor to our county, Nelligan, to claim
+him.&rdquo; The Judge sent a message that he wished to see him in his
+robing-room, and spoke his warm praises of the &ldquo;admirable speech, as
+remarkable for its legal soundness as for its eloquence;&rdquo; and Repton
+overtook him in the street, and, catching his hand, said, &ldquo;Be proud of
+him, sir, for we are all proud of him.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Mayhap the hope is not a too ambitious one, that some one of those who may
+glance over these humble lines may himself have once stood in the position
+of Joe Nelligan, in so far as regards the hour of his triumph, and have
+felt in his heart the ecstasy of covering with his fame the &ldquo;dear head&rdquo; of
+a father.
+</p>
+<p>
+If so, I ask him boldly,&mdash;whatever may have been the high rewards of
+his later fire, whatever honors may have been showered upon him, however
+great his career, and however brilliant its recognitions,&mdash;has he
+ever, in his proudest moments, tasted such a glorious thrill of delight as
+when he has fallen into his father's arms overcome by the happiness that
+he has made that father proud of him? Oh, ye who have experienced this
+thrill of joy within you, cherish and preserve it. The most glowing
+eulogies of eloquence, the most ornate paragraphs of a flattering press,
+are sorry things in comparison to it. For ourselves, we had rather have
+been Joe Nelligan when, with his father's warm tears dimming his eyes, he
+said, &ldquo;God bless you, my boy!&rdquo; than have gained all the honors that even
+talents like his can command!
+</p>
+<p>
+He could not bear to absent himself from home that day; and although his
+father would gladly have celebrated his triumph by gathering his friends
+about him, Joe entreated that they might be alone. And they were so. The
+great excitement of the day over, a sense of weariness, almost sadness,
+stole over the young man; and while his father continued to relate for his
+mother's hearing various little incidents of the trial, he listened with a
+half-apathetic dreaminess, as though the theme oppressed him. The old man
+dwelt with delight on the flattering attention bestowed by the Court on
+Joseph's address, the signs of concurrence vouchsafed from time to time by
+the Bench, the approving murmur of the Bar while he spoke, and then the
+honest outburst of enthusiasm that shook the very walls as he concluded.
+&ldquo;I tried,&rdquo; continued Dan Nelligan,&mdash;&ldquo;I tried to force my way through
+the crowd, and come and tell you that he had gained the day, but I
+couldn't; they were all around me, shaking my hands, patting me on the
+shoulders, and saying, as if I did n't know it in my own heart, 'He 'll
+make you a proud man yet, Mr. Nelligan.'&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I heard it all, five minutes after it was over,&rdquo; said Mrs. Nelligan; &ldquo;and
+you 'd never guess who told me.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Counsellor Walsh,&rdquo; cried Nelligan.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;No, indeed; I never seen him.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;It was Hosey Lynch, then, for I saw him running like mad through the
+town, spreading the news everywhere.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;It was not Hosey,&rdquo; said she, half contemptuously. &ldquo;I wish, Joe, you'd
+give a guess yourself who told me.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Guess, mother,&mdash;guess who told you what?&rdquo; said he, suddenly starting
+from some deep meditation.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Who told me that you won the cause, and beat all the great counsellors
+from Dublin.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I'm sure, mother, it would be hard for me to say,&rdquo; said Joseph, smiling
+faintly; &ldquo;some of our kind townsfolk, perhaps. Father Neal, old Peter
+Hayes, or&mdash;&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I'll just tell you at once,&rdquo; broke she in, half irritated at the
+suggested source of her information. &ldquo;It was Miss Mary herself, and no
+other.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Miss Martin!&rdquo; exclaimed old Nelligan.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Miss Mary Martin!&rdquo; echoed Joe; while a sickly paleness crept over his
+features, and his lips trembled as he spoke.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;How came you to see her? Where was she?&rdquo; asked Nelligan, eagerly.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I 'll tell you,&rdquo; replied she, with all the methodical preparation by
+which she heralded in the least important communications,&mdash;&ldquo;I 'll
+tell you. I was sitting here, working at the window, and wondering when
+the trial would be over, for the goose that was for dinner was too near
+the fire, and I said to myself&mdash;&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Never mind what you said to yourself,&mdash;confound the goose,&rdquo; broke in
+old Dan, fiercely.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Faith, then, I 'd like to know if you 'd be pleased to eat your dinner on
+the cold loin of veal&mdash;&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;But Miss Martin, mother,&mdash;Miss Martin,&rdquo; urged Joe, impatiently.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I'm coming to her, if you'll let me; but when you flurry me and frighten
+me, I 'm ready to faint. It was last Candlemas you gave me a start, Dan,
+about&mdash;what was it, now? Lucky Mason's dog, I believe. No, it was the
+chimney took fire&mdash;&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Will you just go back to Miss Martin, if you please,&rdquo; said old Nelligan,
+sternly.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I wish I knew where I was,&mdash;what I was saying last,&rdquo; said she, in a
+tone of deep sorrow and contrition.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You were going to say how Miss Mary told you all about the trial,
+mother,&rdquo; said Joe, taking her hand kindly within his own.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yes, darling; now I remember it all. I was sitting here at the window
+hemming them handkerchiefs of yours, and I heard a sharp sound of a horse
+coming along quick, and, by the way he cantered, I said to myself, 'I know
+<i>you</i>,' and, sure enough, when I opened the window, there she was,
+Miss Mary herself, all dripping with wet, and her hat flattened on her
+face, at the door.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;'Don't ask me to get down, Mrs. Nelligan,' said she, 'for I'm in a great
+hurry. I have to ride out to Kilkieran with this'&mdash;and she showed me
+a bottle she had in the pocket of her saddle. 'I only called to tell you
+that your son has gained another&mdash;' What was it she called it?&mdash;a
+victory, or a battle,&mdash;no, it was something else&mdash;&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Never mind&mdash;go on,&rdquo; cried Joe; &ldquo;and then?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;'But, my dear Miss Mary,' says I, 'you 're wet through and through. It's
+more than your life's worth to go off now another ten miles. I'll send our
+gossoon, Mickey Slater, with the medicine, if you 'll just come in and
+stay with us.' I did n't say to dinner, for I was ashamed to ask her to
+that.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;'I should be delighted, Mrs. Nelligan,' said she, 'but it is impossible
+to-day. I 'd have stayed and asked you for my dinner,'&mdash;her very
+words,&mdash;'asked you for my dinner, but I have promised poor Mat Landy
+to go back to him. But perhaps it is as well as it is; and my aunt Dorothy
+might say, if she heard of it, that it was a strange choice I had made of
+a festive occasion,&mdash;the day on which we were beaten, and the society
+of him that worsted us.'
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;'Oh, but, Miss Mary,' says I, 'sure you don't think the worse of poor Joe&mdash;'
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;'I never thought more highly of him, my dear Mrs. Nelligan,' said she,
+'than at this moment; and, whatever others may say or think, I'll maintain
+my opinion, that he is a credit to us all. Good-bye! good-bye!' and then
+she turned short round, and said, 'I can't answer for how my uncle may
+feel about what has occurred to-day, but you know <i>my</i> sentiments.
+Farewell!' And with that she was off; indeed, before I had time to shut
+down the window, she was out of sight and away.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;She ought to know, and she will know, that Joe never said one hard thing
+of her family. And though he had in his brief enough to tempt him to bring
+the Martins up for judgment, not a word, not a syllable did he utter.&rdquo;
+ This old Nelligan spoke with a proud consciousness of his son's honorable
+conduct.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Good heavens!&rdquo; exclaimed Joe, &ldquo;is it not enough that a man sells his
+intellect, pawns his capacity, and makes traffic of his brains, without
+being called on to market his very nature, and set up his very emotions
+for sale? If my calling demands this at my hands, I have done with it,&mdash;I
+renounce it.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;But I said you refrained, Joe. I remarked that you would not suffer the
+heat of discussion to draw you into an angry attack&mdash;&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And you praise me for it!&rdquo; broke in Joe, passionately. &ldquo;You deem it an
+occasion to compliment me, that, in defending the cause of a worthless
+debauchee, I did not seize with avidity the happy moment to assail an
+honorable gentleman; and not alone you, but a dozen others, congratulated
+me on this reserve,&mdash;this constraint,&mdash;as though the lawyer were
+but a bravo, and, his stiletto once paid for, he must produce the body of
+his victim. I regard my profession in another and a higher light; but if
+even its practice were the noblest that could engage human faculties, and
+its rewards the highest that could crown them, I'd quit it tomorrow, were
+its price to be the sacrifice of an honorable self-esteem and the regard
+of&mdash;of those we care for.&rdquo; And in the difficult utterance of the last
+words his cheek became crimson, and his lip trembled.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I 'll tell you what you 'll do, Joe,&rdquo; said his mother, whose kindness was
+not invariably distinguished by tact,&mdash;&ldquo;just come over with <i>me</i>
+to-morrow to Cro' Martin. I 'm going to get slips of the oak-leaf geranium
+and the dwarf rose, and we 'll just go together in a friendly way, and
+when we 're there you 'll have some opportunity or other to tell Miss Mary
+that it wasn't your fault for being against them.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;He 'll do no such thing,&rdquo; broke in Nelligan, fiercely. &ldquo;Miss Mary Martin
+wants no apologies,&mdash;her family have no right to any. Joe is a member
+of a high and powerful profession. If he does n't fill as great a place
+now, who knows where he 'll not be this day fifteen years, eh, my boy?
+Maybe I 'll not be here to see,&mdash;indeed, it's more than likely I 'll
+not,&mdash;but I know it now. I feel as sure of it as I do that my name 's
+Dan.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And if you are not to see it, father,&rdquo; said Joe, as he pressed his
+father's hand between both his own,&mdash;&ldquo;you and my dearest mother,&mdash;the
+prize will be nigh valueless. If I cannot, when my reward is won, come
+home,&mdash;to such a home as this,&mdash;the victory will be too late.&rdquo;
+ And so saying he rose abruptly, and hurried from the room. The moment
+after he had locked his door, and, flinging himself upon his bed, buried
+his face between his hands.
+</p>
+<p>
+With all the proud sensations of having achieved a great success, his
+heart was heavily oppressed. It seemed to him as though Destiny had
+decreed that his duty should ever place him in antagonism to his
+affections. Up to a short period before this trial came on he had
+frequently been in Miss Martin's company. Now, it was some trifling
+message for his mother; now, some book he had himself promised to fetch
+her; then visits to the sick&mdash;and Joe, latterly, had taken a most
+benevolent turn&mdash;had constantly brought them together; and often,
+when Mary was on foot, Joe had accompanied her to the gates of the
+demesne. In these meetings one subject usually occupied them,&mdash;the
+sad condition of the country, the destitution of the poor,&mdash;and on
+this theme their sympathies and hopes and fears all agreed. It was not
+only that they concurred in their views of the national character, but
+that they attributed its traits of good or evil to the very same causes;
+and while Nelligan was amazed at finding the daughter of a proud house
+deeply conversant with the daily life of the humblest peasant, she, too,
+was astonished how sincere in his respect for rank, how loyal in his
+devotion to the claims of blood, was one whose birth might have proclaimed
+him a democrat and a destroyer.
+</p>
+<p>
+These daily discussions led them closer and closer to each other, till at
+length confidences grew up between them, and Mary owned to many of the
+difficulties that her lone and solitary station exposed her to. Many
+things were done on the property without&mdash;some in direct opposition
+to&mdash;her concurrence. As she once said herself, &ldquo;We are so ready to
+satisfy our consciences by assuming that whatever we may do legally we
+have a right to do morally, and at the same time, in the actual condition
+of Ireland, what is just may be practically the very heaviest of all
+hardships.&rdquo; This observation was made with reference to some law
+proceedings of Scanlan's instituting, and the day after she chanced to
+make it Joe started for Dublin. It was there that Magennis's attorney had
+sent him the brief in that cause,&mdash;a charge which the etiquette of
+his profession precluded his declining.
+</p>
+<p>
+In what way he discharged the trust we have seen,&mdash;what sorrow it
+cost him is more than we can describe. &ldquo;Miss Martin,&rdquo; thought he, &ldquo;would
+know nothing of the rules which prescribe our practice, and will look upon
+my conduct here as a treason. For weeks long she has conversed with me in
+candor over the state of the county and its people; we separate for a few
+days, and she finds me arrayed with others against the interests of her
+family, and actually paid to employ against her the very knowledge she has
+imparted to me! What a career have I chosen,&rdquo; cried he, in his agony, &ldquo;if
+every success is to be purchased at such a price!&rdquo; With such men as
+Magennis he had nothing in common; their society, their habits, their
+opinions were all distasteful to him, and yet it was for him and his he
+was to sacrifice the dearest hope of his heart,&mdash;to lose the good
+esteem of one whose praise he had accounted more costly than the highest
+distinction a sovereign could bestow on him. &ldquo;And what a false position
+mine!&rdquo; cried he again. &ldquo;Associated by the very closest ties with a party
+not one of whose objects have my sympathies, I see myself separated by
+blood, birth, and station from all that I venerate and respect. I must
+either be a traitor to my own or to myself; declare my enmity to all I
+think most highly of, or suffer my motives to be impugned and my fame
+tarnished.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+There was, indeed, one circumstance in this transaction which displeased
+him greatly, and of which he was only aware when too late. The Magennis
+defence had been &ldquo;got up&rdquo; by a subscription,&mdash;a fund to which
+Joseph's own father had contributed. Amongst the machinery of attack upon
+the landed gentry, Father Neal Rafferty had suggested the expediency of
+&ldquo;putting them on their titles&rdquo; in cases the most trivial and
+insignificant. Forfeiture and confiscation had followed each other so
+frequently in Irish history,&mdash;grants and revocations were so mixed up
+together,&mdash;some attested in all formality, others irregular and
+imperfect,&mdash;that it was currently believed there was scarcely one
+single estate of the whole province could establish a clear and
+indisputable title. The project was, therefore, a bold one which, while
+disturbing the rights of property, should also bring under discussion so
+many vexed questions of English rule and tyranny over the Irish. Libraries
+and cabinets were ransacked for ancient maps of the counties; and old
+records were consulted to ascertain how far the original conditions of
+service, and so forth, had been complied with on which these estates were
+held.
+</p>
+<p>
+Joseph had frequently carried home books from the library of Cro' Martin,
+rare and curious volumes, which bore upon the ancient history of the
+country. And now there crossed him the horrible suspicion that the whole
+scheme of this attack might be laid to his charge, the information to
+substantiate which he had thus surreptitiously-obtained. It was clear
+enough, from what his mother had said, that such was not Miss Martin's
+present impression; but who could say what representations might be made
+to her, and what change effected in her sentiments? &ldquo;And this,&rdquo; cried he,
+in indignation&mdash;&ldquo;and this is the great career I used to long for!&mdash;this
+the broad highway I once fancied was to lead me to honor and distinction!
+Or is it, after all, my own fault, for endeavoring to reconcile two-things
+which never can have any agreement,&mdash;an humble origin and high
+aspirings? Were I an Englishman, the difficulty would not be impassable;
+but here, in Ireland, the brand of a lowly fortune and a despised race is
+upon me. Can I&mdash;dare I resist it?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+A long and arduous conflict was that in which he passed the night,&mdash;now
+inclining to abandon his profession forever, now to leave Ireland and join
+the English or some Colonial Bar; and at length, as day was breaking, and
+as though the fresh morning air which now blew upon him from his open
+window had given fresh energy to his nature, he determined he would
+persist in his career in his own country. &ldquo;<i>My</i> fate shall be an
+example or a warning!&rdquo; cried he. &ldquo;They who come after me shall know
+whether there be rewards within reach of honest toil and steady industry
+without the contamination of a mock patriotism! If I <i>do</i> rise, it
+shall be from no aid derived from a party or a faction; and if I fail, I
+bring no discredit upon 'my order.'&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+There are men who can so discipline their minds that they have but to
+establish a law to their actions to make their whole lives &ldquo;a system.&rdquo;
+ Such individuals the Germans not inaptly call &ldquo;self-contained men,&rdquo; and of
+these was Joe Nelligan one.
+</p>
+<p>
+A certain concentration of his faculties, and the fatigues of a whole
+night passed thus in thought, gave a careworn, exhausted look to his
+features as he entered the room where Repton sat awaiting him for
+breakfast.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I see what's the matter with you,&rdquo; said the old lawyer, as he entered.
+&ldquo;You have passed the night after a 'first brief.' This day ten years
+you'll speak five hours before the Lords 'in error,' and never lose a wink
+of sleep after it's over!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+<a name="link2HCH0016" id="link2HCH0016">
+<!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+</p>
+<div style="height: 4em;">
+<br /><br /><br /><br />
+</div>
+<h2>
+CHAPTER XVI. MR. REPTON LOOKS IN
+</h2>
+<p>
+On the day after that some of whose events we have just recorded, and
+towards nightfall, Mary Martin slowly drove along the darkly wooded avenue
+of Cro' Martin. An unusual sadness overweighed her. She was just returning
+from the funeral of poor old Mat Landy, one of her oldest favorites as a
+child. He it was who first taught her to hold an oar; and, seated beside
+him, she first learned to steer a &ldquo;corragh&rdquo; through the wild waves of the
+Atlantic. His honest, simple nature, his fine manly contentedness with a
+very humble lot, and a cheerful gayety of heart that seemed never to
+desert him, were all traits likely to impress such a child as she had been
+and make his companionship a pleasure. With a heavy heart was it,
+therefore, now that she thought over these things, muttering to herself as
+she went along snatches of the old songs he used to sing, and repeating
+mournfully the little simple proverbs he would utter about the weather.
+</p>
+<p>
+The last scene itself had been singularly mournful. Two fishermen of the
+coast alone accompanied the car which bore the coffin; death or sickness
+was in every house; few could be spared to minister to the dead, and even
+of those, the pale shrunk features and tottering limbs bespoke how dearly
+the duty cost them. Old Mat had chosen for his last resting-place a little
+churchyard that crowned a cliff over the sea,&mdash;a wild, solitary spot,&mdash;an
+old gable, a ruined wall, a few low gravestones, and no more. The cliff
+itself, rising abruptly from the sea to some four hundred feet, was
+perforated with the nests of sea-fowl, whose melancholy cries, as they
+circled overhead, seemed to ring out a last requiem. There it was they now
+laid him. Many a time from that bleak summit had he lighted a beacon fire
+to ships in distress.
+</p>
+<p>
+Often and often, from that same spot, had he gazed out over the sea, to
+catch signs of those who needed succor, and now that bold heart was still
+and that strong arm stiffened, and the rough, deep voice that used to
+sound above the tempest, silent forever.
+</p>
+<p>
+<a name="linkimage-0008" id="linkimage-0008">
+<!-- IMG --></a>
+</p>
+<div class="fig" style="width:80%;">
+<img src="images/188.jpg" width="100%" alt="" /><br />
+</div>
+<p>
+alt="188 &ldquo;>
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Never mind, Patsey,&rdquo; said Mary, to one of the fishermen, who was
+endeavoring with some stray fragments of a wreck to raise a little
+monument over the spot, &ldquo;I'll look to that hereafter.&rdquo; And so saying, she
+turned mournfully away to descend the cliff. A stranger, wrapped in a
+large boat-cloak, had been standing for some time near the place; and as
+Mary left it, he drew nigh and asked who she was.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Who would she be?&rdquo; said the fisherman, gruffly, and evidently in no humor
+to converse.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;A wife, or a daughter, perhaps?&rdquo; asked the other again.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Neither one nor the other,&rdquo; replied the fisherman.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;It is Miss Mary, sir,&mdash;Miss Martin,&mdash;God bless her!&rdquo; broke in
+the other; &ldquo;one that never deserts the poor, living or dead. Musha! but
+she's what keeps despair out of many a heart!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And has she come all this way alone?&rdquo; asked he.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;What other way could she come, I wonder?&rdquo; said the man he had first
+addressed. &ldquo;Did n't they leave her there by herself, just as if she was
+n't belonging to them? They were kinder to old Henderson's daughter than
+to their own flesh and blood.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Hush, Jerry, hush!&mdash;she 'll hear you,&rdquo; cried the other. And saluting
+the stranger respectfully, he began to follow down the cliff.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Are there strangers stopping at the inn?&rdquo; asked Mary, as she saw lights
+gleaming from some of the windows as she passed.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yes, miss, there's him that was up there at the churchyard&mdash;ye
+didn't remark him, maybe&mdash;and one or two more.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I did not notice him,&rdquo; said Mary; and, wishing the men good-night, set
+out homeward. So frequent were the halts she made at different cabins as
+she drove along, so many times was she stopped to give a word of advice or
+counsel, that it was already duskish as she reached Cro' Martin, and found
+herself once more near home. &ldquo;You're late with the post this evening,
+Billy,&rdquo; said she, overtaking the little fellow who carried the mail from
+Oughterard.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yes, miss, there was great work sortin' the letters that came in this
+morning, for I believe there's going to be another election; at least I
+heard Hosey Lynch say it was all about that made the bag so full.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I 'm sorry for it, Billy,&rdquo; said she. &ldquo;We have enough to think of, ay, and
+troubles enough, too, not to need the strife and bitterness of another
+contest amongst us.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Thrue for ye, miss, indeed,&rdquo; rejoined Billy. '&ldquo;Tis wishing them far
+enough I am, them same elections; the bag does be a stone heavier every
+day till it's over.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Indeed!&rdquo; said Mary, half smiling at the remark.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Thrue as I 'm here, miss. I would n't wonder if it was the goold for
+bribin' the chaps makes it weigh so much.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And is there any other news stirring in the town, Billy?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Next to none, miss. They were talkin' of putting up ould Nelligan's son
+for the mimber; and more says the Magennis of Barnagheela will stand.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;A most excellent choice that would be, certainly,&rdquo; said Mary, laughing.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Faix! I heerd of another that wasn't much better, miss.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And who could that be?&rdquo; asked Mary, in astonishment.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;But sure you'd know better than me, if it was thrue, more by token it
+would be the master's own orders.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I don't understand you, Billy.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I mean, miss, that it's only his Honer, Mr. Martin, could have the power
+to make Maurice Scanlan a Parlimint man.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And has any one hinted at such a possibility?&rdquo; said she, in astonishment.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Indeed, then, it was the talk of the market this mornin', and many a one
+said he's the very fellow would get in.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Is he such a general favorite in Oughterard?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I'm not sure it's that, miss,&rdquo; said Billy, thoughtfully.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Maybe some likes him, and more is afraid of him; but he himself knows
+everybody and everybody's business. He can raise the rent upon this man,
+take it off that; 'tis his word can make a barony-constable or one of the
+watch. They say he has the taxes, too, in his power, and can cess you just
+as he likes. Be my conscience, he 's all as one as the Prime Minister.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Just as Billy had delivered this sage reflection they had reached the hall
+door, where, having consigned the letter-bag to the hands of a servant, he
+turned his steps to the kitchen, to take an &ldquo;air of the fire&rdquo; before he
+set out homeward. Mary Martin had not advanced many steps within the hall
+when both her hands were cordially grasped, and a kind voice, which she at
+once recognized as Mr. Repton's, said, &ldquo;Here I am, my dear Miss Martin;
+arrived in time, too, to welcome you home again. You paid me a visit
+yesterday&mdash;&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; broke she in; &ldquo;but you were shaking your ambrosial curls at the
+time, browbeating the bench, or cajoling the jury, or something of that
+sort.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;That I was; but I must own with scant success. You 've heard how that
+young David of Oughterard slew the old Goliath of Dublin? Well, shall I
+confess it? I'm glad of it. I feel proud to think that the crop of clever
+fellows in Ireland is flourishing, and that when I, and a dozen like me,
+pass away, our places will be filled by others that will keep the repute
+of our great profession high in the public estimation.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;This is worthy of you, sir,&rdquo; cried Mary, pressing the arm ahe leaned on
+more closely.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And now, my dear Miss Mary,&rdquo; said he, as they entered the drawing-room,&mdash;&ldquo;now
+that I have light to look at you, let me make my compliments on your
+appearance. Handsomer than ever, I positively declare. They told me in the
+town that you half killed yourself with fatigue; that you frequently were
+days long on horseback, and nights watching by sick-beds; but if this be
+the result, benevolence is indeed its own reward.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Ah, my dear Mr. Repton, I see you do not keep all your flatteries for the
+jury-box.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;My moments are too limited here to allow me time for an untruth. I must
+be off; to-night I have a special retainer for a great record at
+Roscommon, and at this very instant I should be poring over deeds and
+parchments, instead of gazing at 'orbs divinely blue;' not but, I believe,
+now that I look closer, yours are hazel.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Let me order dinner, then, at once,&rdquo; said she, approaching the bell.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I have done that already, my dear,&rdquo; said he, gayly; &ldquo;and what is more, I
+have dictated the bill of fare. I guessed what a young lady's simple meal
+might be, and I have been down to the cook, and you shall see the result.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Then it only remains for me to think of the cellar. What shall it be,
+sir? The Burgundy that you praised so highly last winter, or the Port that
+my uncle preferred to it?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I declare that I half suspect your uncle was right. Let us move for a new
+trial, and try both over again,&rdquo; said he, laughing, as she left the room.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Just to think of such a girl in such a spot,&rdquo; cried he to himself, as he
+walked alone, up and down the room; &ldquo;beauty, grace, fascination,&mdash;all
+that can charm and attract; and then, such a nature, childlike in gayety,
+and chivalrous,&mdash;ay, chivalrous as a chevalier!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I see, sir, you are rehearsing for Roscommon,&rdquo; said Mary, who entered the
+room while he was yet declaiming alone; &ldquo;but I must interrupt you, for the
+soup is waiting.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I obey the summons,&rdquo; said he tendering his arm. And they both entered the
+dinner-room.
+</p>
+<p>
+So long as the meal lasted, Repton's conversation was entirely devoted to
+such topics as he might have discussed at a formal dinner-party. He talked
+of the world of society, its deaths, births, and marriages; its changes of
+place and amusement. He narrated the latest smart things that were going
+the round of the clubs, and hinted at the political events that were
+passing. But the servants gone, and the chairs drawn closer to the blazing
+hearth, his tone changed at once, and in a voice of tremulous kindness he
+said,&mdash;&ldquo;I can't bear to think of the solitude of this life of yours!&mdash;nay,
+hear me out. I say this, not for <i>you</i>, since in the high devotion of
+a noble purpose you are above all its penalties; but I cannot endure to
+think that <i>we</i> should permit it.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;First of all,&rdquo; said Mary, rapidly, &ldquo;what you deem solitude is scarcely
+such; each day is so filled with its duties, that when I come back here of
+an evening, it often happens that my greatest enjoyment is the very sense
+of isolation that awaits me. Do you know,&rdquo; added she, &ldquo;that very often the
+letter-bag lies unopened by me till morning? And as to newspapers, there
+they lie in heaps, their covers unbroken to this hour. Such is actually
+the case to-day. I haven't read my letters yet.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I read mine in my bed,&rdquo; cried Repton. &ldquo;I have them brought to me by
+candlelight in winter, and I reflect over all the answers while I am
+dressing. Some of the sharpest things I have ever said have occurred to me
+while I was shaving; not,&rdquo; added he, hastily, &ldquo;but one's really best
+things are always impromptu. Just as I said t' other day to the Viceroy,&mdash;a
+somewhat felicitous one. He was wishing that some historian would choose
+for his subject the lives of Irish Lord-Lieutenants; not, he remarked, in
+a mere spirit of party, or with the levity of partisanship, but in a
+spirit becoming the dignity of history,&mdash;such as Hume himself might
+have done. 'Yes, my Lord,' I replied, 'your observation is most just; it
+should be a continuation of Rapine.' Eh! it was a home-thrust, wasn't it?&mdash;'a
+continuation of Rapine.'&rdquo; And the old man laughed till his eyes ran over.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Do these great folk ever thoroughly forgive such things?&rdquo; asked Mary.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;My dear child, their self-esteem is so powerful they never feel them; and
+even when they do, the chances are that they store them up in their
+memories, to retail afterwards as their own. I have detected my own stolen
+property more than once; but always so damaged by wear, and disfigured by
+ill-usage, that I never thought of reclaiming it.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;The affluent need never fret for a little robbery,&rdquo; said Mary, smiling.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Ay, but they may like to be the dispensers of their own riches,&rdquo; rejoined
+Repton, who never was happier than when able to carry out another's
+illustration.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Is Lord Reckington agreeable?&rdquo; asked Mary, trying to lead him on to any
+other theme than that of herself.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;He is eminently so. Like all men of his class, he makes more of a small
+stock in trade than we with our heads full can ever pretend to. Such men
+talk well, for they think fluently. Their tact teaches them the popular
+tone on every subject, and they have the good sense never to rise above
+it.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And Massingbred, the secretary, what of him?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;A very well-bred gentleman, strongly cased in the triple armor of
+official dulness. Such men converse as stupid whist-players play cards;
+they are always asking to 'let them see the last trick;' and the
+consequence is they are ever half an hour behind the rest of the world.
+Ay, Miss Mary, and this is an age where one must never be half a second in
+arrear. This is really delicious Port; and now that the Burgundy is
+finished, I think I prefer it. Tell Martin I said so when you write to
+him. I hope the cellar is well stocked with it.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;It was so when my uncle went away, but I fear I have made great inroads
+upon it. It was my chief remedy with the poor.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;With the poor! such wine as this,&mdash;the richest grape that ever
+purpled over the Douro! Do you tell me that you gave this to these&mdash;Heaven
+forgive me, what am I saying? Of course you gave it; you gave them what
+was fifty times more precious,&mdash;the kind ministerings of your own
+angelic nature, the soft words and soft looks and smiles that a prince
+might have knelt for. I 'm not worthy to drink another glass of it,&rdquo; added
+he, as he pushed the decanter from him towards the centre of the table.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;But you shall, though,&rdquo; said Mary, filling his glass, &ldquo;and it shall be a
+bumper to my health.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;A toast I'd stake my life for,&rdquo; said he, reverently, as he lifted her
+hand to his lips and kissed it with all the deference of a courtier. &ldquo;And
+now,&rdquo; added he, refilling his glass, &ldquo;I drink this to the worthy fellow
+whose portrait is before me; and may he soon come back again.&rdquo; He arose as
+he spoke, and giving his hand to Mary, led her into the drawing-room. &ldquo;Ay,
+my dear Miss Mary,&rdquo; said he, following up the theme in his own thoughts,
+&ldquo;it is here your uncle ought to be. When the army is in rout and dismay,
+the general's presence is the talisman that restores discipline.
+Everything around us at this moment is full of threatening danger. The
+catalogue of the assizes is a dark record; I never saw its equal, no more
+have I ever witnessed anything to compare with the dogged indifference of
+the men arraigned. The Irishman is half a fatalist by nature; it will be
+an evil hour that makes him wholly one!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;But still,&rdquo; said Mary, &ldquo;you 'd scarcely counsel his return here at this
+time. The changes that have taken place would fret him deeply, not to
+speak of even worse!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+She delivered the last few words in a voice broken and trembling; and
+Repton, turning quickly towards her, said,&mdash;&ldquo;I know what you point
+at: the irritated feeling of the people, and that insolent menace they
+dared to affix to his own door.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You heard of that, then?&rdquo; cried she, eagerly.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;To be sure, I heard of it; and I heard how your own hands tore it down,
+and riding with it into the midst of them at Kiltimmon market, you said,
+'I 'll give five hundred pounds to him who shows me who did this, and I
+'ll forfeit five hundred more if I do not horsewhip the coward from the
+county.'&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Mary hid her face within her hands; but closely as she pressed them there,
+the warm tears would force their way through, and fall, dropping on her
+bosom.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You are a noble girl,&rdquo; cried he, in ecstasy; &ldquo;and in all your great
+trials there is nothing finer than this, that the work of your benevolence
+has never been stayed by the sense of ill-requital, and you have never
+involved the character of a people in the foul crime of a miscreant.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;How could I so wrong them, sir?&rdquo; broke she out. &ldquo;Who better than myself
+can speak of their glorious courage, their patient resignation, their
+noble self-devotion? Has not the man, sinking under fever, crawled from
+his bed to lead me to the house of another deeper in misery than himself?
+Have I not seen the very poorest sharing the little alms bestowed upon
+their wretchedness? Have I not heard the most touching words of gratitude
+from lips growing cold in death? You may easily show me lands of greater
+comfort, where the blessings of wealth and civilization are more widely
+spread; but I defy you to point to any where the trials of a whole people
+have been so great and so splendidly sustained.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I'll not ask the privilege of reply,&rdquo; said Repton; &ldquo;perhaps I 'd rather
+be convinced by you than attempt to gainsay one word of your argument.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;At your peril, sir,&rdquo; said she, menacing him with her finger, while a
+bright smile lit up her features.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;The chaise is at the door, sir,&rdquo; said a servant, entering and addressing
+Repton.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Already!&rdquo; exclaimed he. &ldquo;Why, my dear Miss Mary, it can't surely be eight
+o'clock. No; but,&rdquo; added he, looking at his watch, &ldquo;it only wants a
+quarter of ten, and I have not said one half of what I had to say, nor
+heard a fourth of what you had to tell me.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Let the postboy put up his horses, William,&rdquo; said Miss Martin, &ldquo;and bring
+tea.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;A most excellent suggestion,&rdquo; chimed in Repton. &ldquo;Do you know, my dear,
+that we old bachelors never thoroughly appreciate all that we have missed
+in domesticity till we approach a tea-table. We surround ourselves with
+fifty mockeries of home-life; we can manage soft carpets, warm curtains,
+snug dinners, but somehow our cup of tea is a rude imitation that only
+depicts the inaccuracy of the copy. Without the priestess the tea-urn
+sings forth no incantation.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;How came it that Mr. Repton remained a Benedict?&rdquo; asked she, gayly.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;By the old accident, that he would n't take what he might have, and could
+n't get what he wished. Add to that,&rdquo; continued he, after a pause, &ldquo;when a
+man comes to a certain time of life without marrying, the world has given
+to him a certain place, assigned to him, as it were, a certain part which
+would be utterly marred by a wife. The familiarity of one's female
+acquaintance&mdash;the pleasantest spot in old bachelorhood&mdash;could
+n't stand such an ordeal; and the hundred-and-one eccentricities
+pardonable and pardoned in the single man would be condemned in the
+married one. You shake your head. Well, now, I 'll put it to the test.
+Would you, or could you, make me your confidant so unreservedly if there
+were such a person as Mrs. Repton in the world? Not a bit of it, my dear
+child. We old bachelors are the lay priests of society, and many come to
+us with confessions they 'd scruple about making to the regular
+authorities.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Perhaps you are right,&rdquo; said she, thoughtfully; &ldquo;at all events, <i>I</i>
+should have no objection to you as my confessor.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I may have to claim that promise one of these day yet,&rdquo; said he,
+significantly. &ldquo;Eh, here comes William again. Well, the postboy won't
+wait, or something has gone wrong. Eh, William, what is it?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;The boy's afraid, sir, if you don't go soon, that there will be no
+passing the river at Barnagheela,&mdash;the flood is rising every minute.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And already the water is too deep,&rdquo; cried Mary. &ldquo;Give the lad his supper,
+William. Let him make up his cattle, and say that Mr. Repton remains here
+for the night.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And Mr. Repton obeys,&rdquo; said he, bowing; &ldquo;though what is to become of
+'Kelly <i>versus</i> Lenaham and another,' is more than I can say.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;They 'll have so many great guns, sir,&rdquo; said Mary, laughing; &ldquo;won't they
+be able to spare a twenty-four pounder?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;But I ought, at least, to appear in the battery, my dear. They 'll say
+that I stayed away on account of that young fellow Nelligan; he has a
+brief in that cause, and I know he 'd like another tussle with me. By the
+way, Miss Mary, that reminds me that I promised him to make his&mdash;no,
+not his excuses, he was too manly for that; but his&mdash;his explanations
+to you about yesterday's business. He was sorely grieved at the part
+assigned him; he spoke feelingly of all the attentions he once met at your
+uncle's hands, but far more so of certain kindnesses shown to his mother
+by yourself; and surmising that you might be unaware of the exacting
+nature of our bar etiquette, that leaves no man at liberty to decline a
+cause, he tortured himself inventing means to set himself right with you.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;But I know your etiquette, sir, and I respect it; and Mr. Nelligan never
+stood higher in my estimation than by his conduct of yesterday. You can
+tell him, therefore, that you saw there was no necessity to touch on the
+topic; it will leave less unpleasantness if we should meet again.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;What a diplomatist it is!&rdquo; said Repton, smiling affectionately at her.
+&ldquo;How successful must all this tact be when engaged with the people! Nay,
+no denial; you know in your heart what subtle devices it supplies you
+with.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And yet, I 'm not so certain that what you call my diplomacy may not have
+involved me in some trouble,&mdash;at least, there is the chance of it.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;As how, my dear child?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You shall hear, sir. You know the story of that poor girl at Barnagheela,
+whom they call Mrs. Magennis? Well, her old grandfather&mdash;as noble a
+heart as ever beat&mdash;had never ceased to pine after her fall. She had
+been the very light of his life, and he loved her on, through her sorrow,
+if not her shame, till, as death drew nigh him, unable to restrain his
+craving desire, he asked me to go and fetch her, to give her his last kiss
+and receive his last blessing. It was a task I had fain have declined,
+were such an escape open to me, but I could not. In a word, I went and did
+his bidding. She stayed with him till he breathed his last breath, and
+then&mdash;in virtue of some pledge I hear that she made him&mdash;she
+fled, no one knows whither. All trace of her is lost; and though I have
+sent messengers on every side, none have yet discovered her.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Suicide is not the vice of our people,&rdquo; said Repton, gravely.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I know that well, and the knowledge makes me hopeful. But what sufferings
+are yet before her, what fearful trials has she to meet!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;By Jove!&rdquo; cried Repton, rising and pacing the room, &ldquo;you have courage,
+young lady, that would do honor to a man. You brave the greatest perils
+with a stout-heartedness that the best of us could scarcely summon.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;But, in this case, the peril is not mine, sir.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I am not so sure of that, Miss Mary,&rdquo; said Repton, doubtingly,&mdash;&ldquo;I
+'m not so sure of that.&rdquo; And, with crossed arms and bent-down head, he
+paced the room slowly back and forwards. &ldquo;Ay,&rdquo; muttered he to himself,
+&ldquo;Thursday night&mdash;Friday, at all events&mdash;will close the record. I
+can speak to evidence on the morning, and be back here again some time in
+the night. Of course it is a duty,&mdash;it is more than a duty.&rdquo; Then he
+added, aloud, &ldquo;There 's the moon breaking out, and a fine breezy sky. I
+'ll take the road, Miss Mary, and, with your good leave, I 'll drink tea
+with you on Friday evening. Nay, my dear, the rule is made absolute.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I agree,&rdquo; said she, &ldquo;if it secures me a longer visit on your return.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+A few moments afterwards saw Repton seated in the corner of his chaise,
+and hurrying onward at speed. His eyes soon closed in slumber, and as he
+sank off to rest, his lips murmured gently, &ldquo;My Lord, in rising to address
+the Court, under circumstances of no ordinary difficulty, and in a case
+where vast interest, considerable influence, and, I may add&mdash;may add&mdash;&rdquo;
+ The words died away, and he was asleep.
+</p>
+<p>
+<a name="link2HCH0017" id="link2HCH0017">
+<!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+</p>
+<div style="height: 4em;">
+<br /><br /><br /><br />
+</div>
+<h2>
+CHAPTER XVII. LADY DOROTHEA'S LETTER
+</h2>
+<p>
+Though it was late when Repton took his departure, Mary Martin felt no
+inclination for sleep, but addressed herself at once to examine the letter
+bag, whose contents seemed more than usually bulky. Amid a mass of
+correspondence about the estate, she came at length upon the foreign
+letters, of which there were several from the servants to their friends or
+relations at Cro' Martin,&mdash;all, as usual, under cover to Miss Martin;
+and at last she found one in Lady Dorothea's own hand, for herself,&mdash;a
+very rare occurrence; nay, indeed, it was the first epistle her Ladyship
+had favored her with since her departure.
+</p>
+<p>
+It was not, then, without curiosity as to the cause that Mary broke the
+large seal and read as follows:&mdash;
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Carlsruhe, Saturday Evening, Cour de Bade.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;My dear Niece,&mdash;It was only yesterday, when looking over your
+uncle's papers, I chanced upon a letter of yours, dated some five or six
+weeks back, and which, to my great astonishment, I discovered had never
+been communicated to me,&mdash;though this mark of deficient confidence
+will doubtless seem less surprising to <i>you</i>.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;To bring your letter to your mind, <i>I</i> may observe it is one in
+which you describe the condition of the people on the estate, and the
+fatal inroads then making upon them by famine and pestilence. It is not my
+intention here to advert to what may possibly be a very natural error in
+your account,&mdash;the exaggerated picture you draw of their sufferings;
+your sympathy with them, and your presence to witness much of what they
+are enduring, will explain and excuse the highly colored statement of
+their sorrows. It were to be wished that an equally valid apology could be
+made for what I am forced to call the importunity of your demands in their
+favor. Five of your six last letters now before me are filled with appeals
+for abatements of rent, loans to carry out improvements, stipends for
+schoolmasters, doctors, scripture-readers, and a tribe of other
+hangers-on, that really seem to augment in number as the pauperism of the
+people increases. However ungracious the task of disparaging the accuracy
+of your view, I have no other alternative but to accept it, and hence I am
+forced to pen these lines myself in preference to committing the office to
+another.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;It really seems to me that you regard our position as landed proprietors
+in the light of a mere stewardship, and that it is our bounden duty to
+expend upon the tenantry the proceeds of the estate, reserving a scanty
+percentage, perhaps, for ourselves to live upon. How you came to this
+opinion, and whence you acquired it, I have no means of knowing. If,
+however, it has been the suggestion of your own genius, it is right you
+should know that you hold doctrines in common with the most distinguished
+communists of modern times, and are quite worthy of a seat of honor beside
+those who are now convulsing society throughout Europe.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I am unwilling to utter anything like severity towards errors, many of
+which take their rise in a mistaken and ill-directed benevolence, because
+the original fault of committing the management of this property to your
+hands was the work of another. Let me hope that sincere sorrow for so
+fatal a mistake may not be the primary cause of his present attack&mdash;&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+When Mary read so far, she started with a sudden fear; and turning over
+the pages of the long letter, she sought for some allusion to her uncle.
+At length she found the following lines:&mdash;&ldquo;Your cousin would have
+left this for Ireland, but for the sudden seizure your poor uncle has
+suffered from, and which came upon him after breakfast, in apparently his
+ordinary health. The entire of the left side is attacked,&mdash;the face
+particularly,&mdash;and his utterance quite inarticulate.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+For some minutes she could read no more; the warm tears rolled down her
+cheeks and dropped heavily on the paper, and she could only mutter to
+herself, &ldquo;My poor, dear uncle,&mdash;my last, my only friend in the
+world!&rdquo; Drying her eyes, with a great effort she read on:&mdash;
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;The remedies have been so far successful as to arrest the progress of the
+malady, and his appetite is good, and his spirits, everything considered,
+are excellent. Of course, all details of business are strictly excluded
+from his presence; and your cousin has assumed whatever authority is
+necessary to the management of the property. We thought at one time your
+presence here might have been desirable, but, considering the distance,
+the difficulty of travelling without suitable companionship, and other
+circumstances, it would, on the whole, be a step we should not recommend;
+and, indeed, your uncle himself has not expressed any wishes on the
+subject.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+She dropped the letter at these words, and, covering her face with her
+hands, sobbed bitterly and long; at length, and with an effort which taxed
+her strength to the utmost, she read on:&mdash;
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Although, however, you are to remain at Cro' Martin, it will be more than
+ever imperative you should reduce the establishment there within the very
+strictest possible limits; and to begin this-reform, I 'm fully assured it
+is necessary you should depose old Mrs. Broon, who is really incapable of
+her duties, while her long-acquired habits of expense render her
+incompatible with any new regulations to enforce economy. A moderate
+pension&mdash;something, however, in accordance with her real wants and
+requirements, rather than what might be called her expectations&mdash;should
+be settled upon her, and there are several farmers on the estate, any one
+of whom would gladly take charge of her. The gardens still figure largely
+in the account, and considering the very little probability of our makings
+the place a residence again, might be turned to more profitable use. You
+will confer with Henderson on the subject, and inquire how far it might be
+advisable to cultivate vegetables for market, or convert them into
+paddocks for calves, or, in short, anything which, if less remunerative,
+should still save the enormous outlay we now hear of I scarcely like to
+allude to the stable, knowing how much you lean to the enjoyment of riding
+and driving; but really these are times when retrenchment is called for at
+every hand; and I am persuaded that for purposes of health walking is
+infinitely better than carriage exercise. I know myself, that since I have
+taken to the habit of getting out of the carriage at the wells, and
+walking twice round the parterre, I feel myself braced and better for the
+day.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;It is not improbable but when the changes I thus suggest, and others
+similar to them, are enacted, that you will see to what little purpose a
+large house is maintained for the mere accommodation of a single
+individual, without suitable means, or indeed any reason whatever, to
+dispense them. If then, I say, you should come to this conviction,&mdash;at
+which I have already arrived,&mdash;a very great saving might be effected
+by obtaining a tenant for Cro' Martin, while you, if still desirous of
+remaining in the county, might be most comfortably accommodated at the
+Hendersons'.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Three times did Mary Martin read over this passage before she could bring
+herself to believe in its meaning; and hot tears of sorrow coursed down
+her cheeks as she became assured of its import.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;It is not,&rdquo; went on the epistle&mdash;&ldquo;it is not in your uncle's present
+most critical state that I could confer with him on this project, nor
+strengthen my advice by what most probably would be <i>his</i> also. I
+therefore make the appeal simply to your own sense of what you may think
+in accordance with our greatly increased outlay and your own requirements.
+Should you receive this suggestion in the spirit in which it is offered, I
+think that both for your uncle's satisfaction and your own dignity, the
+proposal ought to come from yourself. You could make it to me in a letter,
+stating all the reasons in its favor, and of course not omitting to lay
+suitable stress upon the isolation of your present life, and the comfort
+and security you would derive from the protection of a family. Mrs. H. is
+really a very nice person, and her tastes and habits would render her most
+companionable; and she would, of course, make you an object of especial
+attention and respect. It is, besides, not impossible that the daughter
+may soon return&mdash;though this is a point I have not leisure to enter
+upon at present. A hundred a year would he a very handsome allowance for
+Henderson, and indeed for that sum he ought to keep your pony, if you
+still continue your taste for equipage. You would thus be more
+comfortable, and really richer,&mdash;that is, have more disposable means&mdash;than
+you have hitherto had. I forbear to insist further upon what&mdash;till it
+has your own approval&mdash;may be a vain advocacy on my part. I can only
+say, in conclusion, that in adopting this plan you would equally consult
+what is due to your own dignity, as what is required by your uncle's
+interests. Your cousin, I am forced to avow it, has been very silly, very
+inconsiderate, not alone in contracting heavy debts, but in raising large
+sums to meet them at fabulous rates of interest. The involvements
+threaten, from what I can gather, to imperil a considerable part of the
+estate, and we are obliged to send for Scanlan to come out here, and
+confer with him as to the means of extrication. I feel there is much to be
+said in palliation of errors which have their origin in high and generous
+qualities. Plantagenet was thrown at a very early age into the society of
+a most expensive regiment, and naturally contracted the tastes and habits
+around him. Poor fellow, he is suffering severely from the memory of these
+early indiscretions, and I see that nothing but a speedy settlement of his
+difficulties will ever restore him to his wonted spirits. You will thus
+perceive, that if my suggested change of life to you should not conform
+entirely to your wishes, that you are in reality only accepting your share
+of the sacrifices called for from each of us.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;There are a great number of other matters on which I wished to touch,&mdash;some,
+indeed, are not exactly within your province, such as the political
+fortunes of the borough, whose seat Mr. Massingbred has determined to
+vacate. Although not admitting the reason for his conduct, I am strongly
+convinced that the step is a mere acknowledgment of an error on his part,
+and an effort, however late, at the <i>amende honorable</i>. The
+restitution, for so I am forced to regard it, comes most inopportunely,
+since it would be a most ill-chosen moment in which to incur the expense
+of a contested election; besides that, really your cousin has no desire
+whatever for Parliamentary honors. Plantagenet, however, would seem to
+have some especial intentions on the subject which he keeps secret, and
+has asked of Massingbred not to send off his farewell address to the
+constituency for some days. But I will not continue a theme so little
+attractive to you.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Dr. Schubart has just called to see your uncle. He is not altogether so
+satisfied with his state as I could have hoped; he advises change of
+scene, and a little more intercourse with the world, and we have some
+thought of Nice, if we cannot get on to Naples. Dr. S., to whom I spoke on
+the subject of your Irish miseries, tells me that cholera is now the most
+manageable of all maladies, if only taken early; that you must enjoin the
+persons attacked to a more liberal diet, no vegetables, and a sparing use
+of French wines, excepting, he says, the generous 'Vins du Midi.' There is
+also a mixture to be taken&mdash;of which he promised me the prescription&mdash;and
+a pill every night of arnica or aconite&mdash;I 'm not quite certain which&mdash;but
+it is a perfect specific. He also adds, what must be felt as most
+reassuring, that the disease never attacks but the very poorest of the
+population. As to typhus, he smiled when I spoke of it. It is, he says, a
+mere 'Gastrite,' a malady which modern science actually despises. In fact,
+my dear niece, these would seem, like all other Irish misfortunes, the
+mere offshoots of her own dark ignorance and barbarism. If it were not for
+the great expense&mdash;and of course that consideration decides the
+question&mdash;I should have requested you to send over your doctor here
+to confer with Dr. Schubart. Indeed, I think it might be a very reasonable
+demand to make of the Government, but unhappily my present 'relations'
+with my relative Lord Reckington preclude any advances of mine in that
+quarter.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I was forgetting to add that, with respect to cholera, and indeed fever
+generally, that Dr. S. lays great stress upon what he calls the moral
+treatment of the people, amusing their minds by easily learned games and
+simple pleasures. I fear me, however, that the coarser natures of our
+population may not derive adequate amusement from the resources which
+would have such eminent success with the enlightened peasant of the Rhine
+land. Dr. S., I may remark, is a very distinguished writer on politics,
+and daily amazes us with the astounding speculations he is forming as to
+the future condition of Europe. His conviction is that our great peril is
+Turkey, and that Mohammedanism will be the religion of Europe before the
+end of the present century. Those new baths established at Brighton by a
+certain Hamet are a mere political agency, a secret propaganda, which his
+acuteness has alone penetrated. Miss Henderson has ventured to oppose
+these views with something not very far from impertinent ridicule, and for
+some time back, Dr. S. only discusses them with myself alone.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I had left the remainder of the sheet for any intelligence that might
+occur before post hour, but I am suddenly called away, and shall close it
+at once. When I was sitting with your uncle awhile ago, I <i>half</i>
+broached the project I was suggesting to you, and he seemed highly to
+approve of so much as I ventured to tell him. Nothing then is wanting but
+your own concurrence to make it as practicable as it is deemed advisable
+by your affectionate aunt,
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Dorothea Martin.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+The eccentricities of her aunt's character had always served as
+extenuating circumstances with Mary Martin. She knew the violence of her
+prejudices, the enormous amount of her self-esteem, and the facility with
+which she was ever able to persuade herself that whatever she wished to do
+assumed at once all the importance and gravity of a duty! This thorough
+appreciation of her peculiarities enabled Mary to bear up patiently under
+many sore trials and some actual wrongs. Where the occasion was a light
+one, she could afford to smile at such trials, and, even in serious cases,
+they palliated the injustice; but here was an instance wherein all her
+forgiveness was in vain. To take the moment of her poor uncle's illness&mdash;that
+terrible seizure, which left him without self-guidance, if even a will&mdash;to
+dictate these hard and humiliating terms, was a downright cruelty. Nor did
+it diminish the suffering which that letter cost her that its harsh
+conditions seemed dictated by a spirit of contempt for Ireland and its
+people. As Mary re-read the letter, she felt that every line breathed this
+tone of depreciation. It was to her Ladyship a matter of less than
+indifference what became of the demesne, who inhabited the house,&mdash;the
+home of &ldquo;the Martins&rdquo; for centuries! She was as little concerned for the
+prestige of &ldquo;the old family,&rdquo; as she was interested for the sorrows of the
+people. If Mary endeavored to treat these things dispassionately to her
+own heart, by dwelling upon all the points which affected others, still,
+her own individual wrong would work to the surface, and the bitter and
+insulting suggestion made to her rose up before her in all its enormity.
+</p>
+<p>
+She did her very best to turn her thoughts into some other channel,&mdash;to
+fix them upon her poor uncle, on his sick-bed, and sorrowing as he was
+sure to be; to think of her cousin Harry, struggling against the
+embarrassments of his own imprudence; of the old housekeeper, Catty Broon,
+to whom she could not summon courage to speak the cruel tidings of her
+changed lot,&mdash;but all, all in vain; back she would come to the
+humiliation that foreshadowed her own fortune, and threatened to depose
+her from her station forever.
+</p>
+<p>
+An indignant appeal to her uncle&mdash;her own father's brother&mdash;was
+her first resolve. &ldquo;Let me learn,&rdquo; said she to herself, &ldquo;from his own
+lips, that such is the destiny he assigns me; that in return for my tried
+affection, my devotion, he has no other recompense than to lower me in
+self-esteem and condition together. Time enough, when assured of this, to
+decide upon what I shall do. But to whom shall I address this demand?&rdquo;
+ thought she again. &ldquo;That dear, kind uncle is now struck down by illness.
+It were worse than cruelty to add to his own sorrows any thought of <i>mine</i>.
+If he have concurred in Lady Dorothea's suggestion, who knows in what
+light it may have been presented to him, by what arguments strengthened,
+with what perils contrasted? Is it impossible, too, that the sacrifice may
+be imperative? The sale of part of the property, the pressure of heavy
+claims,&mdash;all show that it may be necessary to dispose of Cro' Martin.
+Oh,&rdquo; exclaimed she, in agony, &ldquo;it is but a year ago, that when Mr. Repton
+hinted vaguely at such a casualty, how stoutly and indignantly did I
+reject it!
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;'Your uncle may choose to live abroad,' said he; 'to sell the estate,
+perhaps.' And I heard him with almost scornful defiance; and now the hour
+is come! and even yet I cannot bring myself to believe it. When Repton
+drew the picture of the tenantry, forsaken and neglected, the poor
+unnoticed, and the sick uncared for, he still forgot to assign me my place
+in the sad 'tableau,' and show that in destitution my lot was equal to
+their own; the very poorest and meanest had yet some spot, poor and mean
+though it were, they called a home, that Mary Martin was the only one an
+outcast!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+These gloomy thoughts were darkened as she bethought her that of her
+little fortune&mdash;on which, by Scanlan's aid, she had raised a loan&mdash;a
+mere fragment remained,&mdash;a few hundred pounds at most. The outlay on
+hospitals and medical assistance for the sick had more than quadrupled
+what she had estimated. The expense once begun, she had persevered with
+almost reckless determination. She had despatched to Dublin, one by one,
+the few articles of jewelry and value she possessed for sale; she had
+limited her own expenditure to the very narrowest bounds, nor was it till
+driven by the utmost urgency that she wrote the appeal to her uncle of
+which the reader already knows.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;How I once envied Kate Henderson,&rdquo; cried she, aloud, &ldquo;the brilliant
+accomplishments she possessed, the graceful charm that her cultivation
+threw over society, and the fascination she wielded, by acquirements of
+which I knew nothing; but how much more now do I envy her, that in those
+same gifts her independence was secured,&mdash;that, high above the
+chances of the world, she could build upon her own efforts, and never
+descend to a condition of dependence!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Her diminished power amongst the people had been fully compensated by the
+sincere love and affection she had won from them by acts of charity and
+devotion. Even these, however, owed much of their efficacy to the prestige
+of her station. No peasant in Europe puts so high a value on the
+intercourse with a rank above his own as does the Irish. The most pleasant
+flattery to his nature is the notice of &ldquo;the gentleman,&rdquo; and it was more
+than half the boon Mary bestowed upon the poor, that she who sat down
+beside the bed, who heated the little drink, who raised the head to
+swallow it, was the daughter of the Great House! Would not her altered
+fortune destroy this charm? was now her bitter reflection. Up to this
+hour, greatly reduced as were the means she dispensed, and the influence
+she wielded, she still lived in the proud home of her family, and all
+regarded her as the representative of her honored name. But now&mdash;No,
+she could not endure the thought! &ldquo;If I must descend to further
+privations,&rdquo; said she to herself, &ldquo;let me seek out some new scene,&mdash;some
+spot where I am unknown, have never been heard of; there, at least, I
+shall be spared the contrast of the past with the present, nor see in
+every incident the cruel mockery of my former life.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And yet,&rdquo; thought she, &ldquo;how narrow-minded and selfish is all this, how
+mean-spirited, to limit the question to my own feelings! Is there no duty
+involved in this sacrifice? Shall I not still&mdash;reduced though I be in
+fortune&mdash;shall I not still be a source of comfort to many here? Will
+not the very fact of my presence assure them that they are not deserted?
+They have seen me under some trials, and the lesson has not been
+fruitless. Let them then behold me, under heavier ones, not dismayed nor
+cast down. What I lose in the prestige of station I shall more than gain
+in sympathy; and so I remain!&rdquo; No sooner was the resolve formed than all
+her wonted courage came back. Rallying with the stimulus of action before
+her, she began to plan out a new life, in which her relation to the people
+should be closer and nearer than ever. There was a small ornamental
+cottage on the demesne, known as the Chalet, built by Lady Dorothea after
+one she had seen in the Oberland; this Mary now determined on for her
+home, and there, with Catty Broon alone, she resolved to live.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;My aunt,&rdquo; thought she, &ldquo;can scarcely be so wedded to the Henderson scheme
+but that this will equally satisfy her wishes; and while it secures a home
+and a resting-place for-poor Catty, it rescues <i>me</i> from what I
+should feel as a humiliation.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+The day was already beginning to dawn as Mary sat down to answer Lady
+Dorothea's letter. Most of her reply referred to her uncle, to whose
+affection she clung all the more as her fortunes darkened. She saw all the
+embarrassment of proffering her services to nurse and tend him, living, as
+he was, amidst his own; but still, she said that of the journey or its
+difficulties she should never waste a thought, if her presence at his
+sick-bed could afford him the slightest satisfaction. &ldquo;He knows me as a
+nurse already,&rdquo; said she. &ldquo;But tell him that I have grown, if not wiser,
+calmer and quieter than he knew me formerly; that I should not disturb him
+by foolish stories, but sit patiently save when he would have me to talk.
+Tell him, too, that if changed in many things, in my love to<i> him</i> I
+am unaltered.&rdquo; She tried to add more, but could not. The thought that
+these lines were to be read to her uncle by Lady Dorothea chilled her, and
+the very tones of that supercilious voice seemed to ring in her ears, and
+she imagined some haughty or insolent comment to follow them as they were
+uttered.
+</p>
+<p>
+With regard to her own future, she, in a few words, remarked upon the
+unnecessary expense of maintaining a large house for the accommodation of
+a single person, and said that, if her Ladyship concurred in the plan, she
+would prefer taking up her home at the Chalet with old Catty for companion
+and housekeeper.
+</p>
+<p>
+She pointed out the advantages of a change which, while securing a
+comfortable home to them, would equally suggest to their dependants
+lessons of thrift and self-sacrifice, and added, half sportively, &ldquo;As for
+me, when I find myself <i>en Suisse</i>, I 'm sure I shall less regret
+horses and dogs, and such-like vanities, and take to the delights of a
+dairy and cream cheeses with a good grace. Indeed, I 'm not quite certain
+but that Fortune, instead of displacing, will in reality be only
+installing me in the position best suited to me. Do not, then, be
+surprised, if at your return you find me in sabots and an embroidered
+bodice, deep in the mystery of all cottage economics, and well content to
+be so.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You are quite right, my dear aunt,&rdquo; she continued, &ldquo;not to entertain me
+with politics. The theme is as much above as it is distasteful to me; and
+so grovelling are my sentiments, that I 'd rather hear of the arrival of a
+cargo of oatmeal at Kilkieran than learn that the profoundest statesman of
+Great Britain had condescended to stand for our dear borough of
+Oughterard. At the same time, if Cousin Harry should change his mind, and
+turn his ambition towards the Senate, tell him I 'm quite ready to turn
+out and canvass for him to-morrow, and that the hospitalities of the
+Chalet shall do honor to the cause. As you speak of sending for Mr.
+Scanlan, I leave to him to tell you all the events of our late assizes
+here,&mdash;a task I escape from the more willingly, since I have no
+successes to record. Mr. Repton, however,&mdash;he paid me a visit
+yesterday, and stopped here to dinner,&mdash;says that he has no fears for
+the result at the next trial, and honestly confesses that our present
+defeat was entirely owing to the skill and ability of the counsel opposed
+to us. By some delay or mistake, I don't exactly know which, Scanlan
+omitted to send a retainer to young Mr. Nelligan, and who, being employed
+for the other side, was the chief cause of our failure. My uncle will be
+pleased to learn that Mr. N.'s address to the jury was scrupulously free
+from any of that invective or attack so frequently levelled at landlords
+when defending the rights of property. Repton called it 'a model of legal
+argument, delivered with the eloquence of a first-rate speaker, and the
+taste and temper of a gentleman.' Indeed, I understand that the tone of
+the speech has rendered all the ribaldry usual on such occasions in local
+journals impossible, and that the young barrister has acquired anything
+but popularity in consequence. Even in this much, is there a dawn of
+better things; and under such circumstances a defeat may be more
+profitable than a victory.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+With a few kind messages to her uncle, and an earnest entreaty for early
+tidings of his state, Mary concluded a letter in which her great
+difficulty lay in saying far less than her thoughts dictated, and
+conveying as much as she dare trust to Lady Dorothea's interpretation. The
+letter concluded and sealed, she lay down, dressed as she was, on her bed,
+and fell a-thinking over the future.
+</p>
+<p>
+There are natures to whom the opening of any new vista in life suggests
+fully as much of pleasure as anxiety. The prospect of the unknown and the
+untried has something of the adventurous about it which more than
+counterbalances the casualties of a future. Such a temperament was hers;
+and the first sense of sorrowful indignation over, she really began to
+speculate upon her cottage life with a certain vague and dreamy enjoyment.
+She foresaw, that when Cro' Martin Castle fell into other hands, that her
+own career ceased, her occupation was gone, and that she should at once
+fashion out some new road, and conform herself to new habits. The cares of
+her little household would probably not suffice to engage one whose active
+mind had hitherto embraced so wide a field of action, and Mary then
+bethought her how this leisure might be devoted to study and improvement.
+It was only in the eager enthusiasm of her many pursuits that she buried
+her sorrows over her neglected and imperfect education; and now a time was
+approaching when that reflection could no longer be resisted. She pondered
+long and deeply over these thoughts, when suddenly they were interrupted;
+but in what way, deserves a chapter of its own,&mdash;albeit a very brief
+one.
+</p>
+<p>
+<a name="link2HCH0018" id="link2HCH0018">
+<!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+</p>
+<div style="height: 4em;">
+<br /><br /><br /><br />
+</div>
+<h2>
+CHAPTER XVIII. MR. MERL'S EXPERIENCES IN THE WEST
+</h2>
+<p>
+&ldquo;What card is this?&mdash;who left it?&rdquo; said Mary, as she took up one from
+her breakfast-table.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;It is a gentleman that came to the inn late last night, miss, and sent a
+boy over to ask when he could pay his respects at the castle.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;'Mr. Herman Merl,'&mdash;a name I never heard of,&rdquo; muttered Mary to
+herself. &ldquo;Doubtless some stranger wishing to see the house. Say, whenever
+he pleases, George; and order Sorrel to be ready, saddled and at the door,
+within an hour. This must be a busy day,&rdquo; said she, still speaking to
+herself, as the servant left the room. &ldquo;At Oughterard before one; a
+meeting of the Loan Fund&mdash;I shall need some aid for my hospital; the
+Government order for the meal to be countersigned by a justice&mdash;Mr.
+Nelligan will do it. Then there 's Taite's little boy to be balloted for
+in the Orphan House; and Cassidy's son to be sent up to Dublin. Poor
+fellow, he has a terrible operation to go through. And I shall need Priest
+Rafferty's name to this memorial from the widows; the castle authorities
+seem to require it. After that, a visit to Kyle-a-Noe, to see all my poor
+sick folk: that will be a long business. I hope I may be able to get down
+to the shore and learn some tidings of poor Joan. She never leaves my
+thoughts, and yet I feel that no ill has befallen her.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;The gentleman that sent the card, miss, is below stairs. He is with Mr.
+Crow, at the hall-door,&rdquo; said George.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Show him into the drawing-room, George, and tell Mr. Crow to come here, I
+wish to speak to him.&rdquo; And before Mary had put away the papers and letters
+which littered the table, the artist entered.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Good morning, Mr. Crow,&rdquo; said Mary, in return for a number of most
+courteous salutations, which he was performing in a small semicircle in
+front of her. &ldquo;Who is your friend Mr.&mdash;'Mr. Herman Merl '?&rdquo; read she,
+taking up the card.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;A friend of your cousin's, Miss Mary,&mdash;of the Captain's. He brought
+a letter from him; but he gave it to Scanlan, and somehow Mr. Maurice, I
+believe, forgot to deliver it.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I have no recollection of it,&rdquo; said she, still assorting the papers
+before her. &ldquo;What is this visit meant for,&mdash;curiosity, pleasure,
+business? Does he wish to see the house?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I think it's Miss Martin herself he'd like to see,&rdquo; said Crow, half
+slyly.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;But why so? It's quite clear that I cannot show him any attentions. A
+young girl, living as I do here, cannot be expected to receive guests.
+Besides, I have other things to attend to. You must do the honors of Cro'
+Martin, Mr. Crow. You must entertain this gentleman for me. I 'll order
+luncheon before I go out, and I 'm sure you 'll not refuse me this
+service.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I wish I knew a real service to render you, Miss Mary,&rdquo; said he, with
+unfeigned devotedness in his look as he spoke.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I think I could promise myself as much,&rdquo; said Mary, smiling kindly on
+him. &ldquo;Do you happen to know anything of this stranger, Mr. Crow?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Nothing, miss, beyond seeing him this week back at Kilkieran.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Oh, I have heard of him, then,&rdquo; broke in Mary. &ldquo;It is of him the people
+tell me such stories of benevolence and goodness. It was he that sent the
+yawl out to Murran Island with oatmeal and potatoes for the poor. But I
+thought they called him Mr. Barry?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;To be sure they do; and he's another guess man from him below stairs.
+This one here&rdquo;&mdash;Mr. Crow now spoke in a whisper&mdash;&ldquo;this one here
+is a Jew, I 'd take the Testament on it, and I 'd not be surprised if he
+was one of them thieving villains that they say robbed the Captain! All
+the questions he does be asking about the property, and the rents, if they
+'re well paid, and what arrears there are, shows me that he isn't here for
+nothing.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I know nothing of what you allude to, Mr. Crow,&rdquo; said she, half proudly;
+&ldquo;it would ill become <i>me</i> to pry into my cousin's affairs. At the
+same time, if the gentleman has no actual business with me, I shall
+decline to receive him.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;He says he has, miss,&rdquo; replied Crow. &ldquo;He says that he wants to speak to
+you about a letter he got by yesterday's post from the Captain.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Mary heard this announcement with evident impatience; her head was,
+indeed, too full of other cares to wish to occupy her attention with a
+ceremonial visit. She was in no mood to accept the unmeaning compliments
+of a new acquaintance. Shall we dare to insinuate, what after all is a
+mere suspicion on our part, that a casual glance at her pale cheeks,
+sunken eyes, and careworn features had some share in the obstinacy of her
+refusal? She was not, indeed, &ldquo;in looks,&rdquo; and she knew it. &ldquo;Must I repeat
+it, Mr. Crow,&rdquo; said she, peevishly, &ldquo;that you can do all this for me, and
+save me a world of trouble and inconvenience besides? If there should be&mdash;a
+very unlikely circumstance&mdash;anything confidential to communicate,
+this gentleman may write it.&rdquo; And with this she left the room, leaving
+poor Mr. Crow in a state of considerable embarrassment. Resolving to make
+the best of his difficulty, he returned to the drawing-room, and
+apologizing to Merl for Miss Martin's absence on matters of great
+necessity, he conveyed her request that he would stop for luncheon.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;She ain't afraid of me, I hope?&rdquo; said Merl.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I trust not. I rather suspect she is little subject to fear upon any
+score,&rdquo; replied Crow.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Well, I must say it's not exactly what I expected. The letter I hold here
+from the Captain gives me to understand that his cousin will not only
+receive me, but confer with and counsel me, too, in a somewhat important
+affair.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Oh, I forgot,&rdquo; broke in Crow; &ldquo;you are to write to her, she said,&mdash;that
+is, if there really were anything of consequence, which you deemed
+confidential, you know,&mdash;you were to write to her.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I never put my hand to paper, Mr. Crow, without well knowing why. When
+Herman Merl signs anything, he takes time to consider what's in it,&rdquo; said
+the Jew, knowingly.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Well, shall I show you the house,&mdash;there are some clever specimens
+of the Dutch masters here?&rdquo; asked Crow, anxious to change the topic.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Ay, with all my heart. I suppose I must accept this privilege as my
+experience of the much-boasted Irish hospitality,&rdquo; said he with a sneer,
+which required all Crow's self-control to resist answering. To master the
+temptation, and give himself a few moments' repose, he went about opening
+windows and drawing back curtains, so as to admit a fuller and stronger
+light upon the pictures along the walls.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;There now,&rdquo; said he, pointing to a large landscape, &ldquo;there's a Both, and
+a fine one too; as mellow in color and as soft in distance as ever he
+painted.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;That's a copy,&rdquo; said the other. &ldquo;That picture was painted by Woeffel, and
+I 'll show you his initials, too, A. W., before we leave it.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;It came from the Dordrecht gallery, and is an undoubted Both!&rdquo; exclaimed
+Crow, angrily.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I saw it there myself, and in very suitable company, too, with a Snyders
+on one side and a Rubens on t' other, the Snyders being a Faltk, and the
+Rubens a Metziger; the whole three being positively dear at twenty pounds.
+Ay, here it is,&rdquo; continued he, pointing to the hollow trunk of a decayed
+tree: &ldquo;there's the initials. So much for your original by Both.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I hope you'll allow that to be a Mieris?&rdquo; said Crow, passing on to
+another.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;If you hadn't opened the shutters, perhaps I might,&rdquo; said Merl; &ldquo;but with
+a good dash of light I see it is by Jansens,&mdash;and a clever copy,
+too.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;A copy!&rdquo; exclaimed the other.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;A good copy,&rdquo; I said. &ldquo;The King of Bavaria has the original. It is in the
+small collection at Hohen Schwangau.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;There, that's good!&rdquo; cried he, turning to a small unfinished sketch in
+oils.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I often wondered who did it,&rdquo; cried Crow.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;That! Why, can you doubt, sir? That's a bit of Vandyke's own. It was one
+of the hundred and fifty rough things he threw off as studies for his
+great picture of St. Martin parting his cloak.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I'm glad to hear you say so,&rdquo; said Crow, in delight. &ldquo;I felt, when I
+looked at it, that it was a great hand threw in them colors.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You call this a Salvator Rosa, don't you?&rdquo; said Merl, as he stood before
+a large piece representing a bandit's bivouac in a forest, with a pale
+moonlight stealing through the trees.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yes, that we do,&rdquo; said Crow, stoutly.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Of course, it's quite sufficient to have blended lights, rugged
+foregrounds, and plenty of action to make a Salvator; but let me tell you,
+sir, that it's not even a copy of him. It is a bad&mdash;ay, and a very
+bad&mdash;Haemlens,&mdash;an Antwerp fellow that lived by poor
+facsimiles.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Oh dear, oh dear!&rdquo; cried Crow, despairingly. &ldquo;Did I ever hear the like of
+this!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Are these your best things, Mr. Crow?&rdquo; said Merl, surveying the room with
+an air of consummate depreciation.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;There are others. There are some portraits and a number of small cabinet
+pictures.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Gerard Dows, and Jansens, and such like?&rdquo; resumed Merl; &ldquo;I understand: a
+mellow brown tint makes them, just as a glossy white satin petticoat makes
+a Terburg. Mr. Crow, you 've caught a Tartar,&rdquo; said he, with a grin.
+&ldquo;There's not a man in Europe can detect a copy from the original sooner
+than him before you. Now seven out of every eight of these here are
+veritable 'croûtes,'&mdash;what we call 'croûtes,' sir,&mdash;things sold
+at Christie's, and sent off to the Continent to be hung up in old châteaux
+in Flanders, or dilapidated villas in Italy, where your exploring
+Englishman discovers them by rare good luck, and brings them home with him
+as Cuyps or Claudes or Vandykes. I'll undertake,&rdquo; said he, looking around
+him,&mdash;&ldquo;I'll undertake to furnish you with a gallery, in every respect
+the duplicate of this, for&mdash;let me see&mdash;say three hundred
+pounds. Now, Mr. Crow,&rdquo; said Merl, taking a chair, and spreading out his
+legs before the fire, &ldquo;will you candidly answer me one question?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Tell me what it is,&rdquo; said Crow, cautiously.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I suppose by this time,&rdquo; said Merl, &ldquo;you are tolerably well satisfied
+that Herman Merl is not very easily duped? I mean to say that at least
+there are <i>softer</i> fellows to be found than the humble individual who
+addresses you.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I trust there are, indeed,&rdquo; said the other, sighing, &ldquo;or it would be a
+mighty poor world for Simmy Crow and the likes of him.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Well, I think so too,&rdquo; said Merl, chuckling to himself. &ldquo;The wide-awake
+ones have rather the best of it. But, to come back to my question, I was
+simply going to ask you if the whole of the Martin estate&mdash;house,
+demesne, woods, gardens, quarries, farms, and fisheries&mdash;was not
+pretty much of the same sort of thing as this here gallery?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;How? What do you mean?&rdquo; asked Crow, whose temper was barely, and with
+some difficulty, restrainable.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I mean, in plain words, a regular humbug,&mdash;that's all! and no more
+the representative of real value than these daubs here are the works of
+the great masters whose names they counterfeit.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Look here, sir,&rdquo; said Crow, rising, and approaching the other with a face
+of angry indignation, &ldquo;for aught I know, you may be right about these
+pictures. The chances are you are a dealer in such wares,&mdash;at least
+you talk like one,&mdash;but of the family that lived under this roof, and
+whose bread I have eaten for many a day, if you utter one word that even
+borders on disrespect,&mdash;if you as much as hint at&mdash;&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+What was to be the conclusion of Mr. Crow's menace we have no means of
+recording, for a servant, rushing in at the instant, summoned the artist
+with all speed to Miss Martin's presence. He found her, as he entered,
+with flushed cheeks and eyes flashing angrily, in one of the deep recesses
+of a window that looked out upon the lawn.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Come here, sir,&rdquo; cried she, hurriedly,&mdash;&ldquo;come here, and behold a
+sight such as you scarcely ever thought to look upon from these windows.
+Look here!&rdquo; And she pointed to an assemblage of about a hundred people,
+many of whom were rudely armed with stakes, gathered around the chief
+entrance of the castle. In the midst was a tall man, mounted upon a
+wretched horse, who seemed from his gestures to be haranguing the mob, and
+whom Crow speedily recognized to be Magennis of Barnagheela.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;What does all this mean?&rdquo; asked he, in astonishment.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;It means this, sir,&rdquo; said she, grasping his arm and speaking in a voice
+thick from passionate eagerness. &ldquo;That these people whom you see there
+have demanded the right to enter the house and search it from basement to
+roof. They are in quest of one that is missing; and although I have given
+my word of honor that none such is concealed here, they have dared to
+disbelieve me, and declare they will see for themselves. They might know
+me better,&rdquo; added she, with a bitter smile,&mdash;&ldquo;they might know me
+better, and that I no more utter a falsehood than I yield to a menace.
+See!&rdquo; exclaimed she, &ldquo;they are passing through the flower-garden,&mdash;they
+are approaching the lower windows. Take a horse, Mr. Crow, and ride for
+Kiltimmon; there is a police-station there,&mdash;bring up the force with
+you,&mdash;lose no time, I entreat you.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;But how&mdash;leave you here all alone?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Have no fears on that score, sir,&rdquo; said she, proudly; &ldquo;they may insult
+the roof that shelters me, to myself they will offer no outrage. But be
+quick; away at once, and with speed!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Had Mr. Crow been, what it must be owned had been difficult, a worse
+horseman than he was, he would never have hesitated to obey this behest.
+Ere many minutes, therefore, he was in the saddle and flying across
+country at a pace such as he never imagined any energy could have exacted
+from him.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;They have got a ladder up to the windows of the large drawing-room, Miss
+Mary,&rdquo; said a servant; &ldquo;they'll be in before many minutes.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Taking down two splendidly ornamented pistols from above the
+chimney-piece, Mary examined the priming, and ordering the servant away,
+she descended by a small private stair to the drawing-room beneath.
+Scarcely, however, had she crossed the threshold than she was met by a man
+eagerly hurrying away. Stepping back in astonishment, and with a face pale
+as death, he exclaimed, &ldquo;Is it Miss Martin?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yes, sir,&rdquo; replied she, firmly; &ldquo;and your name?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Mr. Merl&mdash;Herman Merl,&rdquo; said he, with a stealthy glance towards the
+windows, on the outside of which two fellows were now seated,
+communicating with those below.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;This is not a moment for much ceremony, sir,&rdquo; said she, promptly; &ldquo;but
+you are here opportunely. These people will have it that I am harboring
+here one that they are in pursuit of. I have assured them of their error,
+I have pledged my word of honor upon it, but they are not satisfied. They
+declare that they will search the house, and <i>I</i> as firmly declare
+they-shall not.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;But the person is really not here?&rdquo; broke in Merl.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I have said so, sir,&rdquo; rejoined she, haughtily.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Then why not let them search? Egad, I'd say, look away to your heart's
+content, pry into every hole and corner you please, only don't do any
+mischief to the furniture&mdash;don't let any&mdash;&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I was about to ask your assistance, sir, but your counsel saves me from
+the false step. To one who proffers such wise advice, arguments like
+these&rdquo;&mdash;and she pointed to the pistols&mdash;&ldquo;arguments like these
+would be most distasteful; and yet let us see if others may not be of your
+mind too.&rdquo; And steadily aiming her weapon for a second or two, she sent a
+ball through the window, about a foot above the head of one of the fellows
+without. Scarcely had the report rung out and the splintering glass
+fallen, than the two men leaped to the ground, while a wild cheer, half
+derision, half anger, burst from the mob beneath. &ldquo;Now, sir,&rdquo; continued
+she, with a smile of a very peculiar meaning, as she turned towards Merl,&mdash;&ldquo;now,
+sir, you will perceive that you have got into very indiscreet company,
+such as I 'm sure Captain Martin's letter never prepared you for; and
+although it is not exactly in accordance with the usual notions of Irish
+hospitality to point to the door, perhaps you will be grateful to me when
+I say that you can escape by that corridor. It leads to a stair which will
+conduct you to the stable-yard. I'll order a saddle-horse for you. I
+suppose you ride?&rdquo; And really the glance which accompanied these words was
+not a flattery.
+</p>
+<p>
+<a name="linkimage-0009" id="linkimage-0009">
+<!-- IMG --></a>
+</p>
+<div class="fig" style="width:80%;">
+<img src="images/222.jpg" width="100%" alt="222 " />
+</div>
+<p>
+However the proposition might have met Mr.' Merl's wishes there is no
+means of knowing, for a tremendous crash now interrupted the colloquy, and
+the same instant the door of the drawing-room was burst open, and
+Magennis, followed by a number of country people, entered.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I told you,&rdquo; cried he, rudely, &ldquo;that I'd not be denied. It's your own
+fault if you would drive me to enter here by force.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Well, sir, force has done it,&rdquo; said she, taking a seat as she spoke. &ldquo;I
+am here alone, and you may be proud of the achievement!&rdquo; The glance she
+directed towards Merl made that gentleman shrink back, and eventually
+slide noiselessly from the room, and escape from the scene altogether.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;If you'll send any one with me through the house, Miss Martin,&rdquo; began
+Magennis, in a tone of much subdued meaning&mdash;&ldquo;No, sir,&rdquo; broke she in&mdash;&ldquo;no,
+sir, I'll give no such order. You have already had my solemn word of
+honor, assuring you that there was not any one concealed here. The same
+incredulous disrespect you have shown to my word would accompany whatever
+direction I gave to my servants. Go wherever you please; for the time you
+are the master here. Mark me, sir,&rdquo; said she, as, half crestfallen and in
+evident shame, he was about to move from the room&mdash;&ldquo;mark me, sir, if
+I feel sorry that one who calls himself a gentleman should dishonor his
+station by discrediting the word, the plighted word, of a lady, yet I can
+forgive much to him whose feelings are under the impulse of passion. But
+how shall I speak my contempt for <i>you</i>,&rdquo;&mdash;and she turned a
+withering look of scorn on the men who followed him,&mdash;&ldquo;for you, who
+have dared to come here to insult me,&mdash;I, that if you had the least
+spark of honest manhood in your natures, you had died rather than have
+offended? Is this your requital for the part I have borne amongst you? Is
+it thus that you repay the devotion by which I have squandered all that I
+possessed, and would have given my life, too, for you and yours? Is it
+thus, think you, that your mothers and wives and sisters would requite me?
+Or will they welcome you back from your day's work, and say, Bravely done?
+You have insulted a lone girl in her home, outraged the roof whence she
+never issued save to serve you, and taught her to believe that the taunts
+your enemies cast upon you, and which she once took as personal affronts
+to herself, that they are just and true, and as less than you merited. Go
+back, men,&rdquo; added she, in a voice trembling with emotion,&mdash;&ldquo;go back,
+while it is time. Go back in shame, and let me never know who has dared to
+offer me this insult!&rdquo; And she hid her face between her hands, and bent
+down her head upon her lap. For several minutes she remained thus,
+overwhelmed and absorbed by intensely painful emotion, and when she lifted
+up her head, and looked around, they were gone! A solemn silence reigned
+on every side; not a word, nor a footfall, could be heard. She rushed to
+the window just in time to see a number of men slowly entering the wood,
+amidst whom she recognized Magennis, leading his horse by the bridle, and
+following the others, with bent-down head and sorrowful mien.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Oh, thank Heaven for this!&rdquo; cried she, passionately, as the tears gushed
+out and coursed down her face. &ldquo;Thank Heaven that they are not as others
+call them&mdash;cold-hearted and treacherous, craven in their hour of
+trial, and cruel in the day of their vengeance! I knew them better!&rdquo; It
+was long before she could sufficiently subdue her emotion to think calmly
+of what had occurred. At last she bethought her of Mr. Merl, and
+despatched a servant in his pursuit, with a polite request that he would
+return. The man came up with Merl as he had reached the small gate of the
+park, but no persuasions, no entreaties, could prevail on that gentleman
+to retrace his steps; nay, he was frank enough to say, &ldquo;He had seen quite
+enough of the West,&rdquo; and to invoke something very unlike benediction on
+his head if he ever passed another day in Galway.
+</p>
+<p>
+<a name="link2HCH0019" id="link2HCH0019">
+<!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+</p>
+<div style="height: 4em;">
+<br /><br /><br /><br />
+</div>
+<h2>
+CHAPTER XIX. MR. MERL'S &ldquo;LAST&rdquo; IRISH IMPRESSION
+</h2>
+<p>
+Never once turning his head towards Cro' Martin, Mr. Merl set out for
+Oughterard, where, weary and footsore, he arrived that same evening. His
+first care was to take some refreshment; his next to order horses for
+Dublin early for the following morning. This done, he sat down to write to
+Captain Martin, to convey to him what Merl designated as a &ldquo;piece of his
+mind,&rdquo; a phrase which, in popular currency, is always understood to imply
+the very reverse of any flattery. The truth was, Mr. Merl began to suspect
+that his Irish liens were a very bad investment, that property in that
+country was held under something like a double title, the one conferred by
+law, the other maintained by a resolute spirit and a stout heart; that
+parchments required to be seconded by pistols, and that he who owned an
+estate must always hold himself in readiness to fight for it.
+</p>
+<p>
+Now, these were all very unpalatable considerations. They rendered
+possession perilous, they made sale almost impossible. In the cant phrase
+of Ceylon, the Captain had sold him a wild elephant; or, to speak less
+figuratively, disposed of what he well knew the purchaser could never
+avail himself of. If Mr. Merl was an emblem of blandness and good temper
+at the play-table, courteous and conceding at every incident of the game,
+it was upon the very wise calculation that the politeness was profitable.
+The little irregularities that he pardoned all gave him an insight into
+the character of his antagonists; and where he appeared to have lost a
+battle, he had gained more than a victory in knowledge of the enemy.
+</p>
+<p>
+These blandishments were, however, no real part of the man's natural
+temperament, which was eminently distrustful and suspicious, wary to
+detect a blot, prompt and sharp to hit it. A vague, undefined impression
+had now come over him that the Captain had overreached him; that even if
+unincumbered,&mdash;which was far from the case,&mdash;this same estate
+was like a forfeited territory, which to own a man must assert his mastery
+with the strong hand of force. &ldquo;I should like to see myself settling down
+amongst those savages,&rdquo; thought he, &ldquo;collecting my rents with dragoons, or
+levying a fine with artillery. Property, indeed! You might as well convey
+to me by bill of sale the right over a drove of wild buffaloes in South
+America, or give me a title to a given number of tigers in Bengal. He'd be
+a bold man that would even venture to come and have a look at 'his own.'&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+It was in this spirit, therefore, that he composed his epistle, which
+assuredly lacked nothing on the score of frankness and candor. All his
+&ldquo;Irish impressions&rdquo; had been unfavorable. He had eaten badly, he had slept
+worse; the travelling was rude, the climate detestable; and lastly, where
+he had expected to have been charmed with the ready wit, and amused with
+the racy humor of the people, he had only been terrified&mdash;terrified
+almost to death&mdash;by their wild demeanor, and a ferocity that made his
+heart quake. &ldquo;Your cousin,&rdquo; said he,&mdash;&ldquo;your cousin, whom, by the way,
+I only saw for a few minutes, seemed admirably adapted to the exigencies
+of the social state around her; and although ball practice has not been
+included amongst the ordinary items of young ladies' acquirements, I am
+satisfied that it might advantageously form part of an Irish education.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;As to your offer of a seat in Parliament, I can only say,&rdquo; continued he,
+&ldquo;that as the Member of Oughterard I should always feel as though I were
+seated over a barrel of gunpowder; while the very idea of meeting my
+constituency makes me shudder. I am, however, quite sensible of the honor
+intended me, both upon that score and in your proposal of my taking up my
+residence at Cro' Martin. The social elevation, and so forth, to ensue
+from such a course of proceeding would have this disadvantage,&mdash;it
+would not pay! No, Captain Martin, the settlement between us must stand
+upon another basis,&mdash;the very simple and matter-of-fact one called £
+s. d. I shall leave this to-morrow, and be in town, I hope, by Wednesday;
+you can, therefore, give your man of business, Mr. Saunders, his
+instructions to meet me at Wimpole's, and state what terms of liquidation
+he is prepared to offer. Suffice it for the present to say that I decline
+any arrangement which should transfer to me any portion of the estate. I
+declare to you, frankly, I'd not accept the whole of it on the condition
+of retaining the proprietorship.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+When Mr. Merl had just penned the last sentence, the door slowly and
+cautiously was opened behind him, and a very much carbuncled face
+protruded into the room. &ldquo;Yes, that's himself,&rdquo; muttered a voice; and ere
+Merl had been able to detect the speaker, the door was closed. These
+casual interruptions to his privacy had so frequently occurred since the
+commencement of his tour, that he only included them amongst his other
+Irish &ldquo;disagreeables;&rdquo; and so he was preparing to enter on another
+paragraph, when a very decisive knock at the door startled him, and before
+he could say &ldquo;Come in,&rdquo; a tall, red-faced, vulgar-looking man, somewhat
+stooped in the shoulders, and with that blear-eyed watery expression so
+distinctive in hard drinkers, slowly entered, and shutting the door behind
+him, advanced to the fire.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;My name, sir, is Brierley,&rdquo; said he, with a full, rich brogue.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Brierley&mdash;Brierley&mdash;never heard of Brierley before,&rdquo; said Mr.
+Merl, affecting a flippant ease that was very remote from his heart.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Better late than never, sir,&rdquo; rejoined the other, coolly seating himself,
+and crossing his arms on his breast. &ldquo;I have come here on the part of my
+friend Tom,&mdash;Mr. Magennis, I mean,&mdash;of Barnagheela, who told me
+to track you out.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Much obliged, I'm sure, for the attention,&rdquo; said Merl, with an assumed
+smartness.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;That 's all right; so you should,&rdquo; continued Brierley. &ldquo;Tom told me that
+you were present at Cro' Martin when he was outraged and insulted,&mdash;by
+a female of course, or he wouldn't be making a complaint of it now,&mdash;and
+as he is not the man that ever lay under a thing of the kind, or ever
+will, he sent me here to you, to arrange where you 'd like to have it, and
+when.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;To have what?&rdquo; asked Merl, with a look of unfeigned terror.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Baythershin! how dull we are!&rdquo; said Mr. Brierley, with a finger to his
+very red nose. &ldquo;Sure it's not thinking of the King's Bench you are, that
+you want me to speak clearer.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I want to know your meaning, sir,&mdash;if you have a meaning.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Be cool, honey; keep yourself cool. Without you happen to find that
+warmth raises your heart, I 'd say again, be cool. I've one simple
+question to ask you,&rdquo;&mdash;here he dropped his voice to a low, cautious
+whisper,&mdash;&ldquo;Will ye blaze?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Will I what?&rdquo; cried Merl.
+</p>
+<p>
+Mr. Brierley arose, and drawing himself up to his full height, extended
+his arm in the attitude of one taking aim with a pistol. &ldquo;Eh!&rdquo; cried he,
+&ldquo;you comprehend me now, don't you?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Fight&mdash;fight a duel!&rdquo; exclaimed Merl, aloud.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Whisht! whisht! speak lower,&rdquo; said Brierley; &ldquo;there's maybe a chap
+listening at the door this minute!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Accepting the intimation in a very different spirit from that in which it
+was offered, Merl rushed to the door, and threw it wide open. &ldquo;Waiter!&mdash;landlord!&mdash;house!&mdash;waiter!&rdquo;
+ screamed he, at the top of his voice. And in an instant three or four
+slovenly-looking fellows, with dirty napkins in dirtier hands, surrounded
+him.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;What is it, your honer?&mdash;what is it?&rdquo; asked they, in a breath.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Don't you hear what the gentleman's asking for?&rdquo; said Brierley, with a
+half-serious face. &ldquo;He wants a chaise-to the door as quick as lightning.
+He 's off this minute.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yes, by Jupiter! that I am,&rdquo; said Merl, wiping the perspiration from his
+forehead.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Take your last look at the West, dear, as you pass the Shannon, for I
+don't think you 'll ever come so far again,&rdquo; said Brierley, with a grin,
+as he moved by him to descend the stairs.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;If I do, may&mdash;&rdquo; But the slam of his room-door, and the rattle of the
+key as he locked it, cut short Mr. Merl's denunciation.
+</p>
+<p>
+In less than half an hour afterwards a yellow post-chaise left the &ldquo;Martin
+Arms&rdquo; at full speed, a wild yell of insult and derision greeting it as it
+swept by, showing how the Oughterard public appreciated its inmate!
+</p>
+<p>
+<a name="link2HCH0020" id="link2HCH0020">
+<!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+</p>
+<div style="height: 4em;">
+<br /><br /><br /><br />
+</div>
+<h2>
+CHAPTER XX. SOMETHING NOT EXACTLY FLIRTATION.
+</h2>
+<p>
+Most travelled reader, have you ever stood upon the plateau at the foot of
+the Alten-Schloss in Baden, just before sunset, and seen the golden glory
+spread out like a sheen over the vast plain beneath you, with waving
+forests, the meandering Rhine, and the blue Vosges mountains beyond all?
+It is a noble landscape, where every feature is bold, and throughout which
+light and shade alternate in broad, effective masses, showing that you are
+gazing on a scene of great extent, and taking in miles of country with
+your eye. It is essentially German, too, in its characteristics. The
+swelling undulations of the soil, the deep, dark forests, the picturesque
+homesteads, with shadowy eaves and carved quaint balconies, the great
+gigantic wagons slowly toiling through the narrow lanes, over which the
+&ldquo;Lindens&rdquo; spread a leafy canopy,&mdash;all are of the Vaterland.
+</p>
+<p>
+Some fancied resemblance&mdash;it was in reality no more&mdash;to a view
+from a window at Cro' Martin had especially endeared this spot to Martin,
+who regularly was carried up each evening to pass an hour or so, dreaming
+away in that half-unconsciousness to which his malady had reduced him.
+There he sat, scarcely a remnant of his former self, a leaden dulness in
+his eye, and a massive immobility in the features which once were plastic
+with every passing mood that stirred him. The clasped hands and slightly
+bent-down head gave a character of patient, unresisting meaning to his
+figure, which the few words he dropped from time to time seemed to
+confirm.
+</p>
+<p>
+At a little distance off, and on the very verge of the cliff, Kate
+Henderson was seated sketching; and behind her, occasionally turning to
+walk up and down the terraced space, was Massingbred, once more in full
+health, and bearing in appearance the signs of his old, impatient humor.
+Throwing away his half-smoked cigar, and with a face whose expression
+betokened the very opposite of all calm and ease of mind, he drew nigh to
+where she sat, and watched her over her shoulder. For a while she worked
+away without noticing his presence. At last she turned slightly about, and
+looking up at him, said, &ldquo;You see, it's very nearly finished.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+<a name="linkimage-0010" id="linkimage-0010">
+<!-- IMG --></a>
+</p>
+<div class="fig" style="width:80%;">
+<img src="images/232.jpg" width="100%" alt="" /><br />
+</div>
+<p>
+alt="232 &ldquo;>
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Well, and what then?&rdquo; asked he, bluntly.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Do you forget that I gave you until that time to change your opinion?
+that when I was shadowing in this foreground I said, 'Wait 'till I have
+done this sketch, and see if you be of the same mind,' and you agreed?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;This might be very pleasant trifling if nothing were at stake, Miss
+Henderson,&rdquo; said he; &ldquo;but remember that I cannot hold all my worldly
+chances as cheaply as <i>you</i> seem to do them.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Light another cigar, and sit down here beside me,&mdash;I don't dislike
+smoke, and it may, perchance, be a peace calumet between us; and let us
+talk, if possible, reasonably and calmly.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+He obeyed like one who seemed to feel that her word was a command, and sat
+down on the cliff at her side.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;There, now,&rdquo; said she, &ldquo;be useful; hold that color-case for me, and give
+me your most critical counsel. Do you like my sketch?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Very much indeed.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Where do you find fault with it? There must be a fault, or your criticism
+is worth nothing.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Its greatest blemish in my eyes is the time it has occupied you. Since
+you began it you have very rarely condescended to speak of anything else.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;A most unjust speech, and an ungrateful one. It was when throwing in
+those trees yonder, I persuaded you to recall your farewell address to
+your borough friends; it was the same day that I sketched that figure
+there, that I showed you the great mistake of your present life. There is
+no greater error, believe me, than supposing that a Parliamentary success,
+like a social one, can be achieved by mere brilliancy. Party is an army,
+and you must serve in the ranks before you can wear your epaulets.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I have told you already,&mdash;I tell you again,&mdash;I 'm tired of the
+theme that has myself alone for its object.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Of whom would you speak, then?&rdquo; said she, still intently busied with her
+drawing.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You ask me when you know well of whom,&rdquo; said he, hurriedly. &ldquo;Nay, no
+menaces; I could not if I would be silent. It is impossible for me any
+longer to continue this struggle with myself. Here now, before I leave
+this spot, you shall answer me&mdash;&rdquo; He stopped suddenly, as though he
+had said more than he intended, or more than he well knew how to continue.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Go on,&rdquo; said she, calmly. And her fingers never trembled as they held the
+brush.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I confess I do envy that tranquil spirit of yours,&rdquo; said he, bitterly.
+&ldquo;It is such a triumph to be calm, cold, and impassive at a moment when
+others feel their reason tottering and their brain a chaos.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;There is nothing so easy, sir,&rdquo; said she, proudly. &ldquo;All that I can boast
+of is not to have indulged in illusions which seem to have a charm for <i>you</i>.
+You say you want explicit-ness. You shall have it. There was one condition
+on which I offered you my friendship and my advice. You accepted the
+bargain, and we were friends. After a while you came and said that you
+rued your compact; that you discovered your feelings for me went further;
+that mere friendship, as you phrased it, would not suffice&mdash;&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I told you, rather,&rdquo; broke he in, &ldquo;that I wished to put that feeling to
+the last test, by linking your fortune with my own forever.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Very well, I accept that version. You offered to make me your wife, and
+in return, I asked you to retract your words,&mdash;to suffer our
+relations to continue on their old footing, nor subject me to the
+necessity of an explanation painful to both of us. For a while you
+consented; now you seem impatient at your concession, and ask me to resume
+the subject. Be it so, but for the last time.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Massingbred's cheeks grew deadly pale, but he never uttered a word.
+</p>
+<p>
+After a second's pause, she resumed: &ldquo;Your affections are less engaged in
+this case than you think. You would make me your wife just as you would do
+anything else that gave a bold defiance to the world, to show a
+consciousness of your own power, to break down any obstacle, and make the
+prejudices or opinions of society give way before you. You have energy and
+self-esteem enough to make this succeed. Your wife&mdash;albeit the
+steward's daughter&mdash;the governess! would be received, invited,
+visited, and the rest of it; and so far as <i>you</i> were concerned the
+triumph would be complete. Now, however, turn a little attention to the
+other side of the medal. What is to requite <i>me</i> for all this
+courtesy on sufferance, all this mockery of consideration? Where am I to
+find my friendships, where even discover my duties? You only know of one
+kind of pride, that of station and social eminence. I can tell you there
+is another, loftier far,&mdash;the consciousness that no inequality of
+position can obliterate, what I feel and know in myself of superiority to
+those fine ladies whose favorable notice you would entreat for me. Smile
+at the vanity of this declaration if you like, sir, but, at least, own
+that I am consistent; for I am prouder in the independence of my present
+dependence than I should be in all the state of Mr. Massingbred's wife.
+You can see, therefore, that I could not accept this change as the great
+elevation you would deem it. You would be stooping to raise one who could
+never persuade herself that she was exalted. I am well aware that
+inequality of one sort or another is the condition of most marriages. The
+rank of one compensates for the wealth of the other. Here it is affluence
+and age, there it is beauty and poverty. People treat the question in a
+good commercial spirit, and balance the profit and loss like tradesfolk;
+but even in this sense our compact would be impossible, since <i>you</i>
+would endow me with what has no value in my eyes, and <i>I</i>, worse off
+still, have absolutely nothing to give in return.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Give me your love, dearest Kate,&rdquo; cried he, &ldquo;and, supported by that, you
+shall see that I deserve it. Believe me, it is your own proud spirit that
+exaggerates the difficulties that would await us in society.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I should scorn myself if I thought of them,&rdquo; broke she in, haughtily;
+&ldquo;and remember, sir, these are not the words of one who speaks in
+ignorance. I, too, have seen that great world, on which your affections
+are so fixed. I have mixed with it, and know it. Notwithstanding all the
+cant of moralists, I do not believe it to be more hollow or more heartless
+than other classes. Its great besetting sin is not of self-growth, for it
+comes of the slavish adulation offered by those beneath it,&mdash;the
+grovelling worship of the would-be fine folk, who would leave friends and
+home and hearth to be admitted even to the antechambers of the great. They
+who offer up this incense are in my eyes far more despicable than they who
+accept the sacrifice; but I would not cast my lot with either. Do not
+smile, sir, as if these were high-flown sentiments; they are the veriest
+commonplaces of one who loves commonplace, who neither seeks affections
+with coronets nor friendships in gold coaches, but who would still less be
+of that herd&mdash;mute, astonished, and awe-struck&mdash;who worship
+them!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You deem me, then, deficient in this same independence of spirit?&rdquo; cried
+Massingbred, half indignantly.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I certainly do not accept your intention of marrying beneath you as a
+proof of it. Must I again tell you, sir, that in such cases it is the
+poor, weak, patient, forgotten woman pays all the penalty, and that, in
+the very conflict with the world the man has his reward?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;If you loved me, Kate,&rdquo; said he, in a tone of deep sorrow, &ldquo;it is not
+thus you would discuss this question.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+She made no reply, but bending down lower over her drawing, worked away
+with increased rapidity.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Still,&rdquo; cried he, passionately, &ldquo;I am not to be deterred by a defeat.
+Tell me, at least, how I can win that love, which is to me the great prize
+of life. You read my faults, you see my shortcomings clearly enough; be
+equally just, then, to anything there is of good or hopeful about me. Do
+this, Kate, and I will put my fate upon the issue.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;In plain words,&rdquo; said she, calmly, &ldquo;you ask me what manner of man I would
+consent to marry. I 'll tell you. One who with ability enough to attain
+any station, and talents to gain any eminence, has lived satisfied with
+that in which he was born; one who has made the independence of his
+character so felt by the world that his actions have been regarded as
+standards, a man of honor and of his word; employing his knowledge of
+life, not for the purposes of overreaching, but for self-correction and
+improvement; well bred enough to be a peer, simple as a peasant; such a
+man, in fact, as could afford to marry a governess, and, while elevating
+her to his station, never compromise his own with his equals. I don't
+flatter myself,&rdquo; said she, smiling, &ldquo;that I 'm likely to draw this prize;
+but I console myself by thinking that I could not accept aught beneath it
+as great fortune. I see, sir, the humility of my pretensions amuses you,
+and it is all the better for both of us if we can treat these things
+jestingly.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Nay, Kate, you are unfair&mdash;unjust,&rdquo; broke in Mas-singbred.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Mr. Martin begins to feel it chilly, Miss Henderson,&rdquo; said a servant at
+this moment. &ldquo;Shall we return to the hotel?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yes, by all means,&rdquo; said she, rising hastily. The next instant she was
+busily engaged shawling and muffling the sick man, who accepted her
+attentions with the submissive-ness of a child.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;That will do, Molly, thank you, darling,&rdquo; said he, in a feeble voice;
+&ldquo;you are so kind, so good to me.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;The evening is fresh, sir, almost cold,&rdquo; said she.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yes, dear, the climate is not what it used to be. We have cut down too
+many of those trees, Molly, yonder.&rdquo; And he pointed with his thin fingers
+towards the Rhine. &ldquo;We have thinned the wood overmuch, but they'll grow
+again, dear, though I shall not be here to see them.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;He thinks I am his niece,&rdquo; whispered Kate, &ldquo;and fancies himself at Cro'
+Martin.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I suppose they'll advise my trying a warm country, Molly, a milder air,&rdquo;
+ muttered he, as they slowly carried him along. &ldquo;But home, after all, is
+home; one likes to see the old faces and the old objects around them,&mdash;all
+the more when about to leave them forever!&rdquo; And as the last words came,
+two heavy tears stole slowly along his cheeks, and his pale lips quivered
+with emotion. Now speaking in a low, weak voice to himself, now sighing
+heavily, as though in deep depression, he was borne along towards the
+hotel. Nor did the gay and noisy groups which thronged the thoroughfares
+arouse him. He saw them, but seemed not to heed them. His dreary gaze
+wandered over the brilliant panorama without interest or speculation. Some
+painful and difficult thoughts, perhaps, did all these unaccustomed sights
+and sounds bring across his mind, embarrassing him to reconcile their
+presence with the scene he fancied himself beholding; but even these
+impressions were faint and fleeting.
+</p>
+<p>
+As they turned to cross the little rustic bridge in front of the hotel, a
+knot of persons moved off the path to make way for them, one of whom fixed
+his eyes steadily on the sick man, gazing with the keen scrutiny of
+intense interest; then suddenly recalling himself to recollection, he
+hastily retreated within the group.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You are right,&rdquo; muttered he to one near him, &ldquo;he <i>is</i> 'booked;' my
+bond will come due before the month ends.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And you'll be an estated gent, Herman, eh?&rdquo; said a very dark-eyed,
+hook-nosed man at his side.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Well, I hope I shall act the part as well as my neighbors,&rdquo; said Mr.
+Merl, with that mingled assurance and humility that made up his manner.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Was n't that Massingbred that followed them,&mdash;he that made the
+famous speech the other day in Parliament?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; said Merl. &ldquo;I 've got a bit of 'stiff' with his endorsement in my
+pocket this minute for one hundred and fifty.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;What's it worth, Merl?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Perhaps ten shillings; but I 'd not part with it quite so cheaply. He'll
+not always be an M.P., and we shall see if he can afford to swagger by an
+old acquaintance without so much as a 'How d' ye do?'&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;There, he is coming back again,&rdquo; said the other. And at the same moment
+Massingbred walked slowly up to the spot, his easy smile upon his face,
+and his whole expression that of a careless, unburdened nature.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I just caught a glimpse of you as I passed, Merl,&rdquo; said he, with a
+familiar nod; &ldquo;and you were exactly the man I wanted to see.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Too much honor, sir,&rdquo; said Merl, affecting a degree of haughty distance
+at the familiarity of this address.
+</p>
+<p>
+Massingbred smiled at the mock dignity, and went on; &ldquo;I have something to
+say to you. Will you give me a call this evening at the Cour de Bade, say
+about nine or half-past?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I have an engagement this evening.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Put it off, then, that's all, Master Merl, for mine is an important
+matter, and very nearly concerns yourself.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Merl was silent. He would have liked much to display before his friends a
+little of the easy dash and swagger that he had just been exhibiting, to
+have shown them how cavalierly he could treat a rising statesman and a
+young Parliamentary star of the first order; but the question crossed him,
+Was it safe? what might the luxury cost him? &ldquo;Am I to bring that little
+acceptance of yours along with me?&rdquo; said he, in a half whisper, while a
+malicious sparkle twinkled in his eye.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Why not, man? Certainly, if it gives you the least pleasure in life; only
+don't be later than half-past nine.&rdquo; And with one of his sauciest laughs
+Massingbred moved away, leaving the Jew very far from content with &ldquo;the
+situation.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Merl, however, soon rallied. He had been amusing his friends, just before
+this interruption, with a narrative of his Irish journey: he now resumed
+the theme. All that he found faulty, all even that he deemed new or
+strange or unintelligible in that unhappy country, he had dressed up in
+the charming colors of his cockney vocabulary, and his hearers were worthy
+of him! There is but little temptation, however, to linger in their
+company, and so we leave them.
+</p>
+<p>
+<a name="link2HCH0021" id="link2HCH0021">
+<!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+</p>
+<div style="height: 4em;">
+<br /><br /><br /><br />
+</div>
+<h2>
+CHAPTER XXI. LADY DOROTHEA
+</h2>
+<p>
+The Cour de Bade, at which excellent hotel the Martins were installed,
+received on the day we have just chronicled a new arrival. He had come by
+the diligence, one of that undistinguishable ten thousand England sends
+off every week from her shores to represent her virtues or her vices, her
+oddities, vulgarities, and pretensions, to the critical eyes of
+continental Europe.
+</p>
+<p>
+Perfectly innocent of any foreign language, and with a delightful
+ambiguity as to the precise geography of where he stood, he succeeded,
+after some few failures, in finding out where the Martins stopped, and had
+now sent up his name to Lady Dorothea, that name being &ldquo;Mr. Maurice
+Scanlan.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Lady Dorothea Martin had given positive orders that except in the
+particular case of this individual she was not to be interrupted by any
+visitor. She glanced her eye at the card, and then handed it across the
+table to her son, who coolly read it, and threw it from him with the air
+of one saying to himself, &ldquo;Here's more of it! more complication, more
+investigation, deeper research into my miserable difficulties, and
+consequently more unhappiness.&rdquo; The table at which they were seated was
+thickly covered with parchments, papers, documents, and letters of every
+shape and size. There were deeds, and bonds, and leases, rent-rolls, and
+valuations, and powers of attorney, and all the other imposing accessories
+of estated property. There were also voluminous bills of costs, formidable
+long columns of figures, &ldquo;carried over&rdquo; and &ldquo;carried over&rdquo; till the very
+eye of the reader wearied of the dread numerals and turned recklessly to
+meet the awful total at the bottom! Terrified by the menacing applications
+addressed to Mr. Martin on his son's account, and which arrived by every
+post, Lady Dorothea had resolved upon herself entering upon the whole
+state of the Captain's liabilities, as well as the complicated questions
+of the property generally.
+</p>
+<p>
+Distrust of her own powers was not in the number of her Ladyship's
+defects. Sufficiently affluent to be always able to surround herself with
+competent subordinates, she fancied&mdash;a not very uncommon error, by
+the way&mdash;that she individually accomplished all that she had obtained
+through another. Her taste in the fine arts, her skill in music, her
+excellence as a letter-writer, were all accomplishments in this wise; and
+it is not improbable that, had she been satisfied to accept her success in
+finance through a similar channel, the result might have proved just as
+fortunate. A shrinking dislike, however, to expose the moneyed
+circumstances of the family, and a feeling of dread as to the possible
+disclosures which should come out, prevented her from accepting such
+co-operation. She had, therefore, addressed herself to the task with no
+other aid than that of her son,&mdash;a partnership, it must be owned,
+which relieved her very little of her burden.
+</p>
+<p>
+Had the Captain been called away from the pleasures and amusements of life
+to investigate the dry records of some far-away cousin's embarrassments,&mdash;to
+dive into the wearisome narrative of money-borrowing, bill-renewing, and
+the rest of it, by one whom he had scarcely known or seen,&mdash;his
+manner and bearing could not possibly have betrayed stronger signs of
+utter weariness and apathy than he now exhibited. Smoking his cigar, and
+trimming his nails with a very magnificent penknife, he gave short and
+listless replies to her Ladyship's queries, and did but glance at the
+papers which from time to time she handed to him for explanation or
+inquiry.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;So he is come at last!&rdquo; exclaimed she, as the Captain threw down the
+visiting-card. &ldquo;Shall we see him at once?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;By Jove! I think we've had enough of 'business,' as they call it, for one
+morning,&rdquo; cried he. &ldquo;Here have we been since a little after eleven, and it
+is now four, and I am as sick of accounts and figures as though I were a
+Treasury clerk.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;We have done next to nothing, after all!&rdquo; said she, peevishly.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And I told you as much when you began,&rdquo; said he, lighting a fresh cigar.
+&ldquo;There's no seeing one's way through these kind of things after the lapse
+of a year or two. Fordyce gets hold of the bills you gave Mossop, and
+Rawkins buys up some of the things you had given renewals for, and then
+all that trash you took in part payment of your acceptances turns up, some
+day or other, to be paid for; and what between the bills that never were
+to be negotiated&mdash;but somehow do get abroad&mdash;and the sums sent
+to meet others applied in quite a different direction, I'll lay eighty to
+fifty in tens or ponies there's no gentleman living ever mastered one of
+these embarrassments. One must be bred to it, my Lady, take my word for
+it. It's like being a crack rider or a poet,&mdash;it's born with a man.
+'The Henderson,'&rdquo; added he, after a pause, &ldquo;she can do it, and I should
+like to see what she couldn't!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I am curious to learn how you became acquainted with these financial
+abilities of Miss Henderson?&rdquo; said Lady Dorothea, haughtily.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Simply enough. I was poring over these confounded accounts one day at
+Manheim, and I chanced to ask her a question,&mdash;something about
+compound interest, I think it was,&mdash;and so she came and looked over
+what I was doing, or rather endeavoring to do. It was that affair with
+Throgmorton, where I was to meet one third of the bills, and Merl and he
+were to look to the remainder; but there was a reservation that if Comus
+won the Oaks, I was to stand free&mdash;no, that's not it&mdash;if Comus
+won the double event&mdash;&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Never mind your stupid contract. What of Miss Henderson?&rdquo; broke in Lady
+Dorothea.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Well, she came over, as I told you, and took up a pencil and began
+working away with all sorts of signs and crosses,&mdash;regular algebra,
+by Jove!&mdash;and in about five minutes out came the whole thing, all
+square, showing that I stood to win on either event, and came off
+splendidly if the double should turn up. 'I wish,' said I to her, 'you 'd
+just run your eye over my book and see how I stand.' She took it over to
+the fire, and before I could well believe she had glanced at it, she said:
+'This is all full of blunders. You have left yourself open to three
+casualties, any one of which will sweep away all your winnings. Take the
+odds on Roehampton, and lay on Slingsby a couple of hundred more,&mdash;three,
+if you can get it,&mdash;and you 'll be safe enough. And when you 've done
+that,' said she, 'I have another piece of counsel to give; but first say
+will you take it?' 'I give you my word upon it,' said I. 'Then it is
+this,' said she: 'make no more wagers on the turf. You haven't skill to
+make what is called a &ldquo;good book,&rdquo; and you 'll always be a sufferer.'&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Did n't she vouchsafe to offer you her admirable assistance?&rdquo; asked her
+Ladyship, with a sneer.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;No, by Jove!&rdquo; said he, not noticing the tone of sarcasm; &ldquo;and when I
+asked her, 'Would not she afford me a little aid?' she quickly said, 'Not
+on any account. You are now in a difficulty, and I willingly come forward
+to extricate you. Far different were the case should I conspire with you
+to place others in a similar predicament. Besides, I have your pledge that
+you have now done with these transactions, and forever.'&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;What an admirable monitor! One only wonders how so much morality coexists
+with such very intimate knowledge of ignoble pursuits.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;By Jove! she knows everything,&rdquo; broke in the Captain. &ldquo;Such a canter as
+she gave me t' other morning about idleness and the rest of it, saying how
+I ought to study Hindostanee, and get a staff appointment, and so on,&mdash;that
+every one ought to place himself above the accidents of fortune; and when
+I said something about having no opportunity at hand, she replied, 'Never
+complain of that; begin with <i>me</i>. I know quite enough to initiate
+you; and as to Sanscrit, I 'm rather &ldquo;up&rdquo; in it.'&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I trust you accepted the offer?&rdquo; said her Ladyship, with an ambiguous
+smile.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Well, I can't say I did. I hate work,&mdash;at least that kind of work.
+Besides, one doesn't like to come out 'stupid' in these kind of things,
+and so I merely said, 'I 'd think of it&mdash;very kind of her,' and so
+on.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Did it never occur to you all this while,&rdquo; began her Ladyship; and then
+suddenly correcting herself, she stopped short, and said, &ldquo;By the way, Mr.
+Scanlan is waiting for his answer. Ring the bell, and let him come in.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Perhaps it was the imperfect recollection of that eminent individual,&mdash;perhaps
+the altered circumstances in which she now saw him, and possibly some
+actual changes in the man himself,&mdash;but really Lady Dorothea almost
+started with surprise as he entered the room, dressed in a dark pelisse,
+richly braided and frogged, an embroidered travelling-cap in his hand, and
+an incipient moustache on his upper lip,&mdash;all evidencing how rapidly
+he had turned his foreign experiences to advantage. There was, too, in his
+address a certain confident assurance that told how quickly the habits of
+the &ldquo;Table d'hôte&rdquo; had impressed him, and how instantaneously his nature
+had imbibed the vulgar ease of the &ldquo;Continent.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You have just arrived, Mr. Scanlan?&rdquo; said her Ladyship, haughtily, and
+not a little provoked at the shake-hand salutation her son had accorded
+him.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yes, my Lady, this instant, and such a journey as we 've had! No water on
+the Rhine for the steamers; and then, when we took to the land, a perfect
+deluge of rain, that nearly swept us away. At Eisleben, or some such name,
+we had an upset.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;What day did you leave Ireland?&rdquo; asked she, in utter indifference as to
+the casualty.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Tuesday fortnight last, my Lady. I was detained two days in Dublin making
+searches&mdash;&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Have you brought us any letters, sir?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;One from Miss Mary, my Lady, and another from Mr. Repton&mdash;very
+pressing he said it was. I hope Mr. Martin is better? Your Ladyship's last&mdash;&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Not much improvement,&rdquo; said she, stiffly, while her thin lips were
+compressed with an expression that might mean pride or sorrow, or both.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And the country, sir? How did you leave it looking?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Pretty well, my Lady. More frightened than hurt, as a body might say.
+They 've had a severe winter, and a great deal of sickness; the rains,
+too, have done a deal of mischief; but on the whole matters are looking up
+again.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Will the rents be paid, sir?&rdquo; asked she, sharply.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Indeed, I hope so, my Lady. Some, of course, will be backward, and beg
+for time, and a few more will take advantage of Magennis's success, and
+strive to fight us off.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;There must have been some gross mismanagement in that business, sir,&rdquo;
+ broke in her Ladyship. &ldquo;Had I been at home, I promise you the matter would
+have ended differently.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Mr. Repton directed all the proceedings himself, my Lady. He conferred
+with Miss Mary.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;What could a young lady know about such matters?&rdquo; said she, angrily. &ldquo;Any
+prospect of a tenant for the house, sir?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;If your Ladyship really decides on not going back&mdash;&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Not the slightest intention of doing so, sir. If it depended upon me, I'd
+rather pull it down and sell the materials than return to live there. You
+know yourself, sir, the utter barbarism we were obliged to submit to. No
+intercourse with the world&mdash;no society&mdash;very frequently no
+communication by post. Surrounded by a set of ragged creatures, all
+importunity and idleness, at one moment all defiance and insolence, at the
+next crawling and abject. But it is really a theme I cannot dwell upon.
+Give me your letters, sir, and let me see you this evening.&rdquo; And taking
+the papers from his hand, she swept out of the room in a haughty state.
+</p>
+<p>
+The Captain and Mr. Scanlan exchanged looks, and were silent, but their
+glances were far more intelligible than aught either of them would have
+ventured to say aloud; and when the attorney's eyes, having followed her
+Ladyship to the door, turned and rested on the Captain, the other gave a
+brief short nod of assent, as though to say, &ldquo;Yes, you are right; she's
+just the same as ever.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And <i>you</i>, Captain,&rdquo; said Scanlan, in his tone of natural
+familiarity,&mdash;&ldquo;how is the world treating <i>you?</i>&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Devilish badly, Master Scanlan.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Why, what is it doing, then?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I'll tell you what it's doing! It's charging me fifty&mdash;ay, sixty per
+cent; it's protesting my bills, stimulating my blessed creditors to
+proceed against me, worrying my very life out of me with letters. Letters
+to the governor, letters to the Horse Guards, and, last of all, it has
+just lamed Bonesetter, the horse 'I stood to win' on for the Chester Cup,
+I would n't have taken four thousand for my book yesterday morning!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Bad news all this.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I believe you,&rdquo; said he, lighting a cigar, and throwing another across
+the table to Scanlan. &ldquo;It's just bad news, and I have nothing else for
+many a long day past. A fellow of your sort, Master Maurice, punting away
+at county races and small sweepstakes, has a precious deal better time of
+it than a captain of the King's Hussars with his head and shoulders in the
+Fleet.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Come, come, who knows but luck will turn, Captain? Make a book on the
+Oaks.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I've done it; and I'm in for it, too,&rdquo; said the other, savagely.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Raise a few thousands, you can always sell a reversion.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I have done that also,&rdquo; said he, still more angrily.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;With your position and advantages you could always marry well. If you'd
+just beat up the manufacturing districts, you'd get your eighty thousand
+as sure as I'm here! And then matrimony admits of a man's changing all his
+habits. He can sell off hunters, get rid of a racing stable, and twenty
+other little embarrassments, and only gain character by the economy.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I don't care a brass farthing for that part of the matter, Scanlan. No
+man shall dictate to me how I 'm to spend my money. Do you just find me
+the tin, and I 'll find the talent to scatter it.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;If it can't be done by a post-obit&mdash;&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I tell you, sir,&rdquo; cried Martin, peevishly, &ldquo;as I have told you before,
+that has been done. There is such a thing as pumping a well dry, is n't
+there?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Scanlan made a sudden exclamation of horror; and after a pause, said,
+&ldquo;Already!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Ay, sir, already!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I had my suspicions about it,&rdquo; muttered Scanlan, gloomily.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You had? And how so, may I beg to ask?&rdquo; said Martin, angrily.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I saw him down there, myself.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Saw whom? Whom are you talking of?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Of that Jew, of course. Mr. Merl, he calls himself.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+A faint groan was all Martin's reply, as he turned away to hide his face.
+</p>
+<p>
+Scanlan watched him for a minute or so, and then resumed: &ldquo;I guessed at
+once what he was at; <i>he</i> never deceived me, talking about snipe and
+woodcocks, and pretending to care about hare-hunting. I saw my man at a
+glance. 'It's not sporting ever brought you down to these parts,' said I.
+'<i>Your</i> game is young fellows, hard up for cash, willing to give up
+their birthright for a few thousands down, and never giving a second
+thought whether they paid twenty per cent, or a hundred and twenty.' Well,
+well, Captain, you ought to have told me all about it. There wasn't a man
+in Ireland could have putted you through like myself.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;How do you mean?&rdquo; cried Martin, hurriedly.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Sure, when he was down in the West, what was easier? Faix, if I had only
+had the wind of a word that matters were so bad, I 'd have had the papers
+out of him long ago. You shake your head as if you did n't believe me; but
+take my word for it, I 'm right, sir. I 'd put a quarrel on him.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;<i>He'd</i> not fight you!&rdquo; said Martin, turning away in disappointment.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Maybe he wouldn't; but mightn't he be robbed? Couldn't he be waylaid, and
+carried off to the Islands? There was no need to kill him. Intimidation
+would do it all! I'd lay my head upon a block this minute if I would n't
+send him back to London without the back of a letter in his company; and
+what's more, a pledge that he 'd never tell what's happened to him!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;These cockney gents are more 'wide awake' than you suspect, Master
+Maurice, and the chances are that he never carried a single paper or
+parchment along with him.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Worse for him, then,&rdquo; said Scanlan. &ldquo;He'd have to pass the rest of his
+days in the Arran Islands. But I'm not so sure he's as 'cute as you think
+him,&rdquo; added Maurice, after a pause. &ldquo;He left a little note-book once
+behind him that told some strange stories, by all accounts.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;What was that you speak of?&rdquo; cried Martin, eagerly.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I did n't see it myself, but Simmy Crow told me of it; and that it was
+full of all the fellows he ruined,&mdash;how much he won from this man,
+what he carried off from that; and, moreover, there was your own name, and
+the date of the very evening that he finished you off! It was something in
+this wise: 'This night's work makes me an estated gentleman, <i>vice</i>
+Harry Martin, Esquire, retired upon less than half-pay!'&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+A terrible oath, uttered in all the vehemence of a malediction, burst from
+Martin, and seizing Scanlan's wrist, he shook his arm in an agony of
+passion.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I wish I had given you a hint about him, Master Scanlan,&rdquo; said he,
+savagely.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;It's too late to think of it now, Captain,&rdquo; said the other; &ldquo;the fellow
+is in Baden.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Here?&rdquo; asked Martin.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Ay. He came up the Rhine along with me; but he never recognized me,&mdash;on
+account of my moustaches perhaps,&mdash;he took me for a Frenchman or a
+German, I think. We parted at Mayence, and I saw no more of him.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I would that I was to see no more of him!&rdquo; said Martin, gloomily, as he
+walked into another room, banging the door heavily behind him.
+</p>
+<p>
+<a name="link2HCH0022" id="link2HCH0022">
+<!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+</p>
+<div style="height: 4em;">
+<br /><br /><br /><br />
+</div>
+<h2>
+CHAPTER XXII. HOW PRIDE MEETS PRIDE
+</h2>
+<p>
+Kate Henderson sat alone in her room reading a letter from her father, her
+thoughtful brow a shade more serious perhaps than its wont, and at times a
+faint, half-sickly smile moving her dimpled cheek. The interests of our
+story have no concern with that letter, save passingly, nor do we regret
+it. Enough, if we say it was in reply to one of her own, requesting
+permission to return home, until, as she phrased it, she could &ldquo;obtain
+another service.&rdquo; That the request had met scant favor was easy to see,
+as, folding up the letter, she laid it down beside her with a sigh and a
+muttered &ldquo;I thought as much!&mdash;'So long as her Ladyship is pleased to
+accept of your services,'&rdquo; said she, repeating aloud an expression of the
+writer. &ldquo;Well, I suppose he's right; such is the true reading of the
+compact, as it is of every compact where there is wealth on one side,
+dependence on the other! Nor should I complain,&rdquo; said she, still more
+resolutely, &ldquo;if these same services could be rendered toilfully, but
+costing nothing of self-sacrifice in honorable feeling. I could be a
+drudge&mdash;a slave&mdash;to-morrow; I could stoop to any labor; but I
+cannot&mdash;no, I cannot&mdash;descend to companionship! They who hire
+us,&rdquo; cried she, rising, and pacing the room in slow and measured tread,
+&ldquo;have a right to our capacity. We are here to do their bidding; but they
+can lay no claim to that over which we ourselves have no control&mdash;our
+sympathies, our affections&mdash;we cannot sell these; we cannot always
+give them, even as a gift.&rdquo; She paused, and opening the letter, read it
+for some seconds, and then flinging it down with a haughty gesture, said,
+&ldquo;'Nothing menial&mdash;nothing to complain of in my station!' Can he not
+see that there is no such servitude as that which drags out existence, by
+subjecting, not head and hands, but heart and soul, to the dictates of
+another? The menial&mdash;the menial has the best of it. Some stipulate
+that they are not to wear a livery; but what livery exacts such
+degradation as this?&rdquo; And she shook the rich folds of her heavy silk dress
+as she spoke. The tears rose up and dimmed her eyes, but they were tears
+of offended pride, and as they stole slowly along her cheeks, her features
+acquired an expression of intense haughtiness. &ldquo;They who train their
+children to this career are but sorry calculators!&mdash;educating them
+but to feel the bitter smart of their station, to see more clearly the
+wide gulf that separates them from what they live amongst!&rdquo; said she, in a
+voice of deep emotion.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Her Ladyship, Miss Henderson,&rdquo; said a servant, throwing wide the door,
+and closing it after the entrance of Lady Dorothea, who swept into the
+room in her haughtiest of moods, and seated herself with all that
+preparation that betokened a visit of importance.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Take a seat, Miss Henderson,&rdquo; said she. And Kate obeyed in silence. &ldquo;If
+in the course of what I shall have to say to you,&rdquo; resumed her Ladyship,&mdash;&ldquo;if
+in what I shall feel it my <i>duty</i> to say to you, I may be betrayed
+into any expression stronger than in a calmer moment would occur to me,&mdash;stronger
+in fact, than strict justice might warrant&mdash;&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I beg your Ladyship's pardon if I interrupt, but I would beg to remark&mdash;&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;What?&rdquo; said Lady Dorothea, proudly.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;That simply your Ladyship's present caution is the best security for
+future propriety. I ask no other.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You presume too far, young lady. I cannot answer that <i>my</i> temper
+may not reveal sentiments that my judgment or my breeding might prefer to
+keep in abeyance.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;If the sentiments be there, my Lady, I should certainly say, better to
+avow them,&rdquo; said Kate, with an air of most impassive coldness.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I 'm not aware that I have asked your advice on that head, Miss
+Henderson,&rdquo; said she, almost insolently. &ldquo;At the same time, your habits of
+late in this family may have suggested the delusion.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Will your Ladyship pardon me if I confess I do not understand you?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You shall have little to complain of on that score, Miss Henderson; I
+shall not speak in riddles, depend upon it. Nor should that be an obstacle
+if your intelligence were only the equal of your ambition.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Now, indeed, is your Ladyship completely beyond me.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Had you felt that I was as much 'above' you, Miss Henderson, it were more
+to the purpose.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I sincerely hope that I have never forgotten all the deference I owe your
+Ladyship,&rdquo; said Kate. Nor could humble words have taken a more humble
+accent; and yet they availed little to conciliate her to whom they were
+addressed; nay, this very humility seemed to irritate and provoke her to a
+greater show of temper, as with an insolent laugh she said,&mdash;&ldquo;This
+mockery of respect never imposed on we, young lady. I have been bred and
+born in a rank where real deference is so invariable that the fictitious
+article is soon detected, had there been any hardy enough to attempt it.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Kate made no other answer to this speech than a deep inclination of her
+head. It might mean assent, submission, anything.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You may remember, Miss Henderson,&rdquo; said her Ladyship, with all the
+formality of a charge in her manner,&mdash;&ldquo;you may remember that on the
+day I engaged your services you were obliging enough to furnish me with a
+brief summary of your acquirements.&rdquo; She paused, as if expecting some
+intimation of assent, and after an interval of a few seconds, Kate smiled,
+and said,&mdash;&ldquo;It must have been a very meagre catalogue, my Lady.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Quite the reverse. It was a perfect marvel to me how you ever found time
+to store your mind with such varied information; and yet, notwithstanding
+that imposing array of accomplishments, I now find that your modesty&mdash;perhaps
+out of deference to my ignorance&mdash;withheld fully as many more.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Kate's look of bewilderment at this speech was the only reply she made.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Oh, of course you do not understand me,&rdquo; said Lady Dorothea, sneeringly;
+&ldquo;but I mean to be most explicit. Have you any recollection of the
+circumstance I allude to?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I remember perfectly the day, madam, I waited on you for the first time.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;That's exactly what I mean. Now, pray, has any portion of our discourse
+dwelt upon your mind?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yes, my Lady; a remark of your Ladyship's made a considerable impression
+upon me at the moment, and has continued frequently to rise to my
+recollection since that.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;May I ask what it was?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;It was with reference to the treatment I had been so long accustomed to
+in the family of the Duchesse de Luygnes, and which your Ladyship
+characterized by an epithet I have never forgotten. At the time I thought
+it severe; I have learned to see it just. You called it an 'irreparable
+mischief.' Your Ladyship said most truly.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I was never more convinced of the fact than at this very moment,&rdquo; said
+Lady Dorothea, as a flush of anger covered her cheek. &ldquo;The ill-judging
+condescension of your first protectors has left a very troublesome legacy
+for their successors. Your youth and inexperience&mdash;I do not desire to
+attribute it to anything more reprehensible&mdash;led you, probably, into
+an error regarding the privileges you thus enjoyed, and you fancied that
+you owed to your own claims what you were entirely indebted to from the
+favor of others.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I have no doubt that the observation of your Ladyship is quite correct,&rdquo;
+ said Kate, calmly.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I sincerely wish that the conviction had impressed itself upon your
+conduct then,&rdquo; said Lady Dorothea, whose temper was never so outraged as
+by the other's self-possession. &ldquo;Had such been the case, I might have
+spared myself the unpleasantness of my present task.&rdquo; Her passion was now
+fully roused, and with redoubled energy she continued: &ldquo;Your ambition has
+taken a high flight, young lady, and, from the condescension by which I
+accorded you a certain degree of influence in this family, you have
+aspired to become its head. Do not affect any misconception of my meaning.
+My son has told me everything&mdash;everything&mdash;from your invaluable
+aid to him in his pecuniary difficulties, to your sage counsels on his
+betting-book; from the admirable advice you gave him as to his studies, to
+the disinterested offer of your own tuition. Be assured if <i>he</i> has
+not understood all the advantages so generously presented to him, I, at
+least, appreciate them fully. I must acknowledge you have played your game
+cleverly, and you have made the mock independence of your character the
+mask of your designs. With another than myself you might have succeeded,
+too,&rdquo; said her Ladyship, with a smile of bitter irony; &ldquo;but <i>I</i> have
+few self-delusions, Miss Henderson, nor is there amongst the number that
+of believing that any one serves me, in any capacity, from any devotion to
+my own person. I natter myself, at least, that I have so much of
+humility.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;If I understand your Ladyship aright, I am charged with some designs on
+Captain Martin?&rdquo; said Kate, calmly.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yes; precisely so,&rdquo; said Lady Dorothea, haughtily.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I can only protest that I am innocent of all such, my Lady,&rdquo; said she,
+with an expression of great deference. &ldquo;It is a charge that does not admit
+of any other refutation, since, if I appeal to my conduct, your Ladyship's
+suspicions would not exculpate me.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Certainly not.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I thought so. What, then, can I adduce? I'm sure your Ladyship's own
+delicacy will see that this is not a case where testimony can be invoked.
+I cannot&mdash;you would not ask me to&mdash;require an acquittal from the
+lips of Captain Martin himself; humble as I stand here, my Lady, you never
+could mean to expose me to this humiliation.&rdquo; For the first time did her
+voice falter, and a sickly paleness came over her as she uttered the last
+words.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;The humiliation which you had intended for this family, Miss Henderson,
+is alone what demands consideration from <i>me</i>. If what you call your
+exculpation requires Captain Martin's presence, I confess I see no
+objection to it.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;It is only, then, because your Ladyship is angry with me that you could
+bring yourself to think so, especially since another and much easier
+solution of the difficulty offers itself.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;How so? What do you mean?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;To send me home, madam.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I understand you, young lady. I am to send you back to your father's
+house as one whose presence here was too dangerous, whose attractions
+could only be resisted by means of absence and distance. A very
+interesting martyrdom might have been made of it, I 've no doubt, and even
+some speculation as to the conduct of a young gentleman so suddenly
+bereaved of the object of his affections. But all this is much too
+dignified for me. <i>My</i> son shall be taught to respect himself without
+the intervention of any contrivance.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+<a name="linkimage-0011" id="linkimage-0011">
+<!-- IMG --></a>
+</p>
+<div class="fig" style="width:80%;">
+<img src="images/256.jpg" width="100%" alt="256 " />
+</div>
+<p>
+As she uttered the last words, she arose and approached the bell.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Your Ladyship surely is not going&mdash;&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I am going to send for Captain Martin, Miss Henderson.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Do not, I entreat of you,&mdash;I implore your Ladyship,&rdquo; cried Kate,
+with her clasped hands trembling as she spoke.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;This agitation is not without a cause, and would alone decide me to call
+for my son.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;If I have ever deserved well at your hands, my Lady,&mdash;if I have
+served you faithfully in anything,&mdash;if my devotion has lightened you
+of one care, or aided you through one difficulty,&mdash;spare me, oh,
+spare me, I beseech you, this&mdash;degradation!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I have a higher consideration to consult here, Miss Henderson, than any
+which can have reference to you.&rdquo; She pulled the bell violently, and while
+her hand still held the cord, the servant entered. &ldquo;Tell Captain Martin to
+come here,&rdquo; said she, and sat down.
+</p>
+<p>
+Kate leaned her arm upon the chimney-piece, and, resting her head on it,
+never uttered a word.
+</p>
+<p>
+For several minutes the silence was unbroken on either side. At last Lady
+Dorothea started suddenly, and said,&mdash;&ldquo;We cannot receive Captain
+Martin here.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Your Ladyship is full of consideration,&rdquo; said Kate, bitterly. &ldquo;For a
+moment I had thought it was only an additional humiliation to which you
+had destined me.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Follow me into the drawing-room, Miss Henderson,&rdquo; said Lady Dorothea,
+proudly, as she left the room. And with slow, submissive mien Kate quitted
+the chamber, and walked after her.
+</p>
+<p>
+Scarcely had the door of the drawing-room been closed upon them than it
+was re-opened to admit Captain Martin. He was booted and spurred for his
+afternoon canter, and seemed in no wise pleased at the sudden interruption
+to his project.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;They said you wanted me,&rdquo; cried he; &ldquo;and here have I been searching for
+you in your dressing-room, and all over the house.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I desire to speak with you,&rdquo; said she, proudly; and she motioned to a
+chair.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I trust the <i>séance</i> is to be a brief one, otherwise I 'll beg a
+postponement,&rdquo; said he, half laughingly. Then turning his glance towards
+Kate, he remarked for the first time the deathlike color of her face, and
+an expression of repressed suffering that all her self-control could not
+conceal. &ldquo;Has anything happened? What is it?&rdquo; said he, in a half-whisper.
+</p>
+<p>
+But she never replied, nor even seemed to heed his question.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Tell me, I beseech you,&rdquo; cried he, turning to Lady Dorothea,&mdash;&ldquo;tell
+me, has anything gone wrong?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;It is precisely on that account I have sent for you, Captain Martin,&rdquo;
+ said her Ladyship, as she assigned to him a seat with a motion of her
+hand. &ldquo;It is because a great deal has gone wrong here&mdash;and were it
+not for my vigilance, much more still likely to follow it&mdash;I have
+sent for you, sir, that you should hear from this young lady's lips a
+denial which, I own, has not satisfied <i>me</i>; nor shall it, till it be
+made in your presence and meet with your corroboration. Your looks, Miss
+Henderson,&rdquo; said she, addressing her, &ldquo;would imply that all the suffering
+of the present moment falls to <i>your</i> share; but I would beg you to
+bear in mind what a person in <i>my</i> sphere must endure at the bare
+possibility of the event which now demands investigation.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Good heavens! will not you tell me what it is?&rdquo; exclaimed Martin, in the
+last extremity of impatience.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I have sent for you, sir,&rdquo; resumed she, &ldquo;that you should hear Miss
+Henderson declare that no attentions on your part&mdash;no assiduities, I
+should perhaps call them&mdash;have ever been addressed to her; that, in
+fact&rdquo;&mdash;here her Ladyship became embarrassed in her explanation,&mdash;&ldquo;that,
+in fact, those counsels&mdash;those very admirable aids to your conduct
+which she on so many occasions has vouchsafed to afford you&mdash;have had
+no object&mdash;no ulterior object, I should perhaps call it&mdash;and
+that your&mdash;your intercourse has ever been such as beseems the heir of
+Cro' Martin, and the daughter of the steward on that property!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;By Jove, I can make nothing of all this!&rdquo; cried the Captain, whose
+bewildered looks fully corroborated the assertion.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Lady Dorothea, sir, requires you to assure her that I have never made
+love to you,&rdquo; said Kate Henderson, with a look of scorn that her Ladyship
+did not dare to reply to. &ldquo;<i>I</i>,&rdquo; added she, &ldquo;have already given my
+pledge on this subject. I trust that your testimony will not gainsay me.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Confound me if I can fathom it at all!&rdquo; said he, more distracted than
+ever. &ldquo;If you are alluding to the offer I made you&mdash;&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;The offer you made,&rdquo; cried Lady Dorothea. &ldquo;When?&mdash;how?&mdash;in what
+wise?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;No, no, I will speak out,&rdquo; said he, addressing Kate. &ldquo;I am certain <i>you</i>
+never divulged it; but I cannot accept that all the honorable dealing
+should be on one side only. Yes, my Lady, however you learned it, I cannot
+guess, but it is perfectly true; I asked Miss Henderson to be my wife, and
+she refused me.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+A low, faint sigh broke from Lady Dorothea, and she fell back into her
+chair.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;She would have it,&mdash;it's not my fault,&mdash;you are witness it's
+not,&rdquo; muttered he to Kate. But she motioned him in silence to the door,
+and then opening the window, that the fresh air might enter, stood
+silently beside the chair.
+</p>
+<p>
+A slight shivering shook her; and Lady Dorothea&mdash;her cheeks almost
+lividly pale&mdash;raised her eyes and fixed them on Kate Henderson.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You have had your triumph!&rdquo; said she, in a low but firm voice.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I do not feel it such, madam,&rdquo; said Kate, calmly. &ldquo;Nor is it in a moment
+of humiliation like this that a thought of triumph can enter.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Hear me,&mdash;stoop down lower. You can leave this&mdash;tomorrow, if
+you wish it.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Kate bowed slowly in acquiescence.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I have no need to ask you that what has occurred here should never be
+mentioned.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You may trust me, madam.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I feel that I may. There&mdash;I am better&mdash;quite well, now! You may
+leave me.&rdquo; Kate courtesied deeply, and moved towards the door. &ldquo;One word
+before you go. Will you answer me one question? I'll ask but one; but your
+answer must be full, or not at all.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;So it shall be, madam. What is it?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I want to know the reason&mdash;on what grounds&mdash;you declined the
+proposal of my son?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;For the same good reason, madam, that should have prevented his ever
+making it.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Disparity&mdash;inequality of station, you mean?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Something like it, madam. Our union would have been both a blunder and a
+paradox. Each would have married beneath him!&rdquo; And once more courtesying,
+and with an air of haughty dignity, Kate withdrew, and left her Ladyship
+to her own thoughts.
+</p>
+<p>
+Strange and conflicting were the same thoughts; at one moment stimulating
+her to projects of passionate vengeance, at the next suggesting the
+warmest measures of reconciliation and affection. These indeed
+predominated, for in her heart pride seemed the emblem of all that was
+great, noble, or exalted; and when she saw that sentiment, not fostered by
+the accidents of fortune, not associated with birth, lineage, and high
+station, but actually rising superior to the absence of all these, she
+almost felt a species of worship for one so gloriously endowed.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;She might be a duchess!&rdquo; was the only speech she uttered, and the words
+revealed a whole volume of her meditations. It was curious enough how
+completely all recollection of her son was merged and lost in the greater
+interest Kate's character supplied. But so is it frequently in life. The
+traits which most resemble our own are those we alone attach importance
+to, and what we fancy admiration of another is very often nothing more
+than the gratified contemplation of ourselves.
+</p>
+<p>
+<a name="link2HCH0023" id="link2HCH0023">
+<!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+</p>
+<div style="height: 4em;">
+<br /><br /><br /><br />
+</div>
+<h2>
+CHAPTER XXIII. MAURICE SCANLAN ADVISES WITH &ldquo;HIS COUNSEL&rdquo;
+ </h2>
+<p>
+Jack Massingbred sat in expectation of Mr. Merl's arrival till nigh ten
+o'clock; and if not manifesting any great degree of impatience at the
+delay, still showing unmistakable signs of uneasiness, as though the event
+were not destitute of some cause for anxiety. At last a note arrived to
+say that a sudden and imperative necessity to start at once for England
+would prevent Mr. Merl from keeping his appointment. &ldquo;I shall be in town
+by Tuesday,&rdquo; continued the writer, &ldquo;and if Captain Martin has any
+communication to make to me respecting his affairs, let it be addressed to
+Messrs. Twining and Scape's, solicitors, Furnival's Inn. I hope that with
+regard to your own matter, you will make suitable provision for the
+acceptance due on the ninth of next month. Any further renewal would prove
+a great inconvenience to yours
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Very sincerely and to command,
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Herman Merl.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Negotiations have ended ere they were opened, and war is proclaimed at
+once,&rdquo; said Massingbred, as he read over this brief epistle. &ldquo;You may come
+forth, Master Scanlan,&rdquo; added he, opening the door of his bedroom, and
+admitting that gentleman. &ldquo;Our Hebrew is an overmatch for us. He declines
+to appear.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Why so? How is that?&rdquo; asked Scanlan.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;There 's his note,&rdquo; said the other; &ldquo;read and digest it.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;This smacks of suspicion,&rdquo; said Scanlan. &ldquo;He evidently suspects that we
+have concerted some scheme to entangle him, and he is resolved not to be
+caught.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Precisely; he 'll do nothing without advice. Well, well, if he but knew
+how unprepared we are, how utterly deficient not only in resources, but
+actually in the commonest information of our subject, he might have
+ventured here in all safety.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Has Captain Martin not put you in possession of the whole case, then?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Why, my good Scanlan, the Captain knows nothing, actually nothing, of his
+difficulties. He has, it is true, a perfect conviction that he is out of
+his depth; but whether he be in five fathom water or fifty, he doesn't
+know; and, what 's stranger, he does n't care!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;After all, if it be over his head, I suppose it's pretty much the same
+thing,&rdquo; said Scanlan, with a bitter laugh.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I beg to offer my dissent to that doctrine,&rdquo; said Mas-singbred, gently.
+&ldquo;Where the water is only just out of a man's depth, the shore is usually
+not very distant. Now, if we were quite certain such were the case here,
+we might hope to save him. If, on the contrary, he has gone down out of
+all sight of land&mdash;&rdquo; He stopped, gazed steadily at Scanlan for a few
+seconds, and then in a lower tone, not devoid of a touch of anxiety, said,
+&ldquo;Eh, do you really know this to be so?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I'll tell you all I know, Mr. Massingbred,&rdquo; said he, as having turned the
+key in the door, he took his seat at the table. &ldquo;And I 'll tell you,
+besides, how I came by the knowledge, and I 'll leave it to your own
+judgment to say what his chance is worth. When Merl was stopping at
+Kilkieran, he left there a little pocket-book, with memorandums of all his
+secret transactions. Mighty nice doings they were,&mdash;and profitable,
+too,&mdash;as you 'll perceive when you look over it.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You have it, then,&rdquo; cried Jack, eagerly.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Here it is,&rdquo; said he, producing the precious volume, and laying his hand
+firmly on it. &ldquo;Here it is now. I got it under a pledge to hand it to
+himself, which I need n't tell you I never had the slightest intention of
+performing. It's not every day in the week one has the good luck to get a
+peep into the enemy's brief, and this is exactly what you 'll find here.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Massingbred stretched out his hand to take the book, but Scanlan quietly
+replaced it in his pocket, and, with a dry and very peculiar smile, said,&mdash;&ldquo;Have
+a little patience, sir. We must go regularly to work here. You shall see
+this book&mdash;you shall examine it&mdash;and even retain it&mdash;but it
+must be on conditions.&rdquo; &ldquo;Oh, you may confide in me, Scanlan. Even if Mr.
+Merl were my friend,&mdash;which I assure you he is not,&mdash;I could not
+venture to betray <i>you</i>.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;That's not exactly what I 'm thinking of, Mr. Massingbred. I 'm certain
+you 'd say nothing to Merl of what you saw here. My mind is easy enough
+upon that score.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Well, then, in what direction do your suspicions point?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;They 're not suspicions, sir,&rdquo; was the dry response.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Fears,&mdash;hesitations,&mdash;whatever you like to call them.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Are we on honor here, Mr. Massingbred?&rdquo; said Scanlan, after a pause.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;For myself, I say decidedly so,&rdquo; was the firm reply.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;That will do, sir. I ask only one pledge, and I 'm sure you 'll not
+refuse it: if you should think, on reflection, that what I propose to you
+this evening is neither practicable nor advisable,&mdash;that, in fact,
+you could neither concur in it nor aid it,&mdash;that you'll never, so
+long as you live, divulge it to any one,&mdash;man, woman, or child. Have
+I that promise?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I think I may safely say that.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Ay, but do you say it?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I do; here is my promise.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;That will do. I don't ask a word more. Now, Mr. Massingbred,&rdquo; said he,
+replacing the book on the table, &ldquo;I 'll tell you in the fewest words I can
+how the case stands,&mdash;and brevity is essential, for we have not an
+hour to lose. Merl is gone to London about this business, and we 'll have
+to follow him. <i>He 'd</i> be very glad to be rid of the affair
+to-morrow, and he 'll not waste many days till he is so. Read that bit
+there, sir,&rdquo; said he, pointing to a few closely written lines in the
+note-book.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Good heavens!&rdquo; cried Jack, &ldquo;this is downright impossible. This is a vile
+falsehood, devised for some infernal scheme of roguery. Who 'd believe
+such a trumpery piece of imposition? Ah, Scanlan, you are not the wily
+fellow I took you for. This same precious note-book was dropped as a
+decoy, as I once knew a certain noble lord to have left his betting-book
+behind him. An artful device, that can only succeed once, however. And you
+really believed all this?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I did, and I do believe it,&rdquo; said Scanlan, firmly.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;If you really say so, we must put the matter to the test. Captain Martin
+is here,&mdash;we 'll send for him, and ask him the question; but I must
+say I don't think your position will be a pleasant one after that reply is
+given.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I must remind you of your promise already, it seems,&rdquo; said Scanlan. &ldquo;You
+are pledged to say nothing of this, if you cannot persuade yourself to act
+along with me in it.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Very true,&rdquo; said Massingbred, slowly; &ldquo;but I never pledged myself to
+credit an impossibility.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I ask nothing of the kind. I only claim that you should adhere to what
+you have said already. If this statement be untrue, all my speculations
+about it fall to the ground at once. I am the dupe of a stale trick, and
+there's an end of it.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Ay, so far all well, Master Scanlan; but <i>I</i> have no fancy to be
+associated in the deception. Can't you see that?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I can, sir, and I do. But perhaps there may be a readier way of
+satisfying your doubts than calling for the Captain's evidence. There is a
+little page in this same volume devoted to one Mr. Massingbred. <i>You</i>
+surely may have some knowledge about <i>his</i> affairs. Throw your eye
+over that, sir, and say what you think of it.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Massingbred took the book in his hand and perused the place pointed out to
+him.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;By Jove! this <i>is</i> very strange,&rdquo; said he, after a pause. &ldquo;Here is
+my betting-book on the St. Hubert all transcribed in full,&mdash;however
+the Jew boy got hold of it; and here 's mention of a blessed hundred-pound
+note, which, in less than five years, has grown to upwards of a thousand!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And all true? All fact?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Perfectly true,&mdash;most lamentable fact, Master Scanlan! How precise
+the scoundrel is in recording this loan as 'after supper at Dubos'!' Ay,
+and here again is my unlucky wager about Martingale for the 'Chester,' and
+the handicap with Armytage. Scanlan, I recant my rash impression. This is
+a real work of its great author! <i>Aut Merl&mdash;aut Diabolus</i>.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I could have sworn it,&rdquo; said Scanlan.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;To be sure you could, man, and have done, ere this time o' day, fifty
+other things on fainter evidence. But let me tell you it requires strong
+testimony to make one believe that there should live such a consummate
+fool in the world as would sell his whole reversionary right to a splendid
+state of some twelve thousand&mdash;&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Fifteen at the lowest,&rdquo; broke in Scanlan.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Worse again. Fifteen thousand a year for twenty-two thousand seven
+hundred and sixty-four pounds sterling.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And he has done it.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;No, no; the thing is utterly incredible, man. Any one must see that if he
+did want to make away with his inheritance, that he could have obtained
+ten, twenty times that sum amongst the tribe of Merl.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;No doubt, if he were free to negotiate the transaction. But you 'll see,
+on looking over these pages, in what a network of debt he was involved,&mdash;how,
+as early as four years ago, at the Cape, he owed Merl large sums, lost at
+play, and borrowed at heavy interest. So that, at length, this same
+twenty-two thousand, assumed as paid for the reversion, was in reality but
+the balance of an immense demand for money lost, bills renewed, sums lent,
+debts discharged, and so on. But to avoid the legal difficulty of an
+'immoral obligation,' the bale of the reversion is limited to this simple
+payment of twenty-two thousand&mdash;&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Seven hundred and sixty-four pounds, sir. Don't let us diminish the price
+by a fraction,&rdquo; said Massingbred. &ldquo;Wonderful people ye are, to be sure;
+and whether in your talent for savings, or dislike for sausages, alike
+admirable and praiseworthy! What a strange circle do events observe, and
+how irrevocable is the law of the material, the stern rule of the moral
+world, decay, decomposition, and regeneration following on each other; and
+as great men's ashes beget grubs, so do illustrious houses generate in
+their rottenness the race of Herman Merls.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Scanlan tried to smile at the rhapsodical conceit, but for some private
+reason of his own he did not relish nor enjoy it.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;So, then, according to the record,&rdquo; said Massingbred, holding up the
+book, &ldquo;there is an end of the 'Martins of Cro' Martin'?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;That's it, sir, in one word.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;It is too shocking&mdash;too horrible to believe,&rdquo; said Mas-singbred,
+with more of sincerity than his manner usually displayed. &ldquo;Eh, Scanlan,&mdash;is
+it not so?&rdquo; added he, as waiting in vain for some show of concurrence.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I believe, however,&rdquo; said the other, &ldquo;it's the history of every great
+family's downfall: small liabilities growing in secrecy to become heavy
+charges, severe pressure exerted by those out of whose pockets came
+eventually the loans to meet the difficulties,&mdash;shrewdness and
+rapacity on one side, folly and wastefulness on the other.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Ay, ay; but who ever heard of a whole estate disposed of for less than
+two years of its rental?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;That's exactly the case, sir,&rdquo; said he, in the same calm tone as before;
+&ldquo;and what makes matters worse, we have little time to look out for
+expedients. Magennis will put us on our title at the new trial next
+assizes. Merl will take fright at the insecurity of his claim, and dispose
+of it,&mdash;Heaven knows to whom,&mdash;perhaps to that very league now
+formed to raise litigation against all the old tenures.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Stop, stop, Scanlan! There is quite enough difficulty before us, without
+conjuring up new complications,&rdquo; cried Massingbred. &ldquo;Have you anything to
+suggest? What ought to be done here?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Scanlan was silent, and leaning his head on his hand seemed lost in
+thought.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Come, Scanlan, you 've thought over all this ere now. Tell me, man, what
+do you advise?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Scanlan was silent.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Out with it, Scanlan. I know, I feel that you have a resource in store
+against all these perils! Out with it, man.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Have I any need to remind you of your promise, Mr. Massingbred?&rdquo; asked
+the other, stealthily.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Not the slightest, Scanlan. I never forget a pledge.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Very well, sir; that's enough,&rdquo; said Scanlan, speaking rapidly, and like
+one anxious to overcome his confusion by an effort. &ldquo;We have just one
+thing to do. We must buy out Merl. Of course as reasonably as we can, but
+buy him out we must. What between his own short experiences of Ireland,
+and the exposure that any litigation is sure to bring with it, he's not
+likely to be hard to deal with, particularly when we are in possession, as
+I suppose we may be, through <i>your</i> intimacy with the Captain, of all
+the secret history of these transactions. I take it for granted that he
+'ll be as glad of a settlement that keeps all 'snug,' as ourselves. Less
+than the twenty-two thousand we can't expect he'll take.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And how are we to raise that sum without Mr. Martin's concurrence?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I wish that was the only difficulty,&rdquo; said Scanlan.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;What do you mean?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Just this: that in his present state no act of his would stand. Sure his
+mind is gone. There isn't a servant about him could n't swear to his
+fancies and imaginations. No, sir, the whole thing must be done amongst
+ourselves. I have eight thousand some hundred pounds of my own available
+at a moment; old Nelligan would readily&mdash;for an assignment of the
+Brewery and the Market Square&mdash;advance us ten thousand more;&mdash;the
+money, in short, could be had&mdash;more if we wanted it&mdash;the
+question&mdash;&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;As to the dealing with Merl?&rdquo; broke in Jack.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;No, sir, not that, though of course it is a most important
+consideration.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Well, what then?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;As to the dealing with Maurice Scanlan, sir,&rdquo; said he, making a great
+effort. &ldquo;There's the whole question in one word.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I don't see that there can be any grave obstacle against that. You know
+the property.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Every acre of it.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You know how you'd like your advance to be secured to you&mdash;on what
+part of the estate. The conditions, I am certain, might be fairly left in
+your own hands; I feel assured you'd not ask nor expect anything beyond
+what was equitable and just.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Mr. Massingbred, we might talk this way a twelvemonth, and never be a bit
+nearer our object than when we began,&rdquo; said Scanlan, resolutely. &ldquo;I want
+two things, and I won't take less than the two together. One is to be
+secured in the agency of the estate, under nobody's control whatever but
+the Martins themselves. No Mister Repton to say 'Do this, sign that, seal
+the other.' I 'll have nobody over me but him that owns the property.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Well, and the other condition?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;The other&mdash;the other&mdash;&rdquo; said Scanlan, growing very red&mdash;&ldquo;the
+other, I suppose, will be made the great difficulty&mdash;at least, on my
+Lady's side. She 'll be bristling up about her uncle the Marquis, and her
+half-cousin the Duke, and she'll be throwing in my teeth who I am, and
+what I was, and all the rest of it, forgetting all the while where they
+'ll be if they reject my terms, and how much the most noble Viceroy will
+do for her when she has n't a roof over her head, and how many letters his
+Grace will write when she has n't a place to address them to,&mdash;not to
+say that the way they're treating the girl at this very moment shows how
+much they think of her as one of themselves, living with old Catty Broon,
+and cantering over the country without as much as a boy after her. Sure,
+if they were n't Pride itself, it's glad they might be that a&mdash;a&mdash;a
+respectable man, that is sure to be devoted to their own interests
+forever, and one that knows the estate well, and, moreover than that, that
+doesn't want to be going over to London,&mdash;no, nor even to Dublin,&mdash;that
+doesn't care a brass farthing for the castle and the lodge in the park,&mdash;that,
+in short, Mr. Massingbred, asks nothing for anybody, but is willing to
+trust to his industry and what he knows of life&mdash;There it is now,&mdash;there's
+my whole case,&rdquo; said he, stammering, and growing more and more
+embarrassed. &ldquo;I haven't a word to add to it, except this: that if they'd
+rather be ruined entirely, left without stick or stone, roof or rafter in
+the world, than take my offer, they 've nothing to blame but themselves
+and their own infernal pride!&rdquo; And with this peroration, to deliver which
+cost him an effort like a small apoplexy, Maurice Scanlan sat down at the
+table, and crossed his arms on his breast like one prepared to await his
+verdict with a stout heart.
+</p>
+<p>
+At last, and with the start of one who &ldquo;suddenly bethought him of a
+precaution that ought not to be neglected,&rdquo; he said,&mdash;&ldquo;Of course,
+this is so far all between ourselves, for if I was to go up straight to my
+Lady, and say, 'I want to marry your niece,' I think I know what the
+answer would be.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Although Massingbred had followed this rambling and incoherent effort at
+explanation with considerable attention, it was only by the very
+concluding words that he was quite certain of having comprehended its
+meaning. If we acknowledge that he felt almost astounded by the
+pretension, it is but fair to add that nothing in his manner or air
+betokened this feeling. Nay, he even by a slight gesture of the head
+invited the other to continue; and when the very abrupt conclusion did
+ensue, he sat patiently, as it were revolving the question in his own
+mind.
+</p>
+<p>
+Had Scanlan been waiting for the few words which from a jury-box determine
+a man's fate forever, he could not have suffered more acute anxiety than
+he felt while contemplating the other's calm and unmoved countenance. A
+bold, open rejection of his plan, a defiant repudiation of his
+presumption, would not probably have pained him more, if as much as the
+impassive quietness of Jack's demeanor.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;If you think that this is a piece of impudence on my part, Mr.
+Massingbred,&mdash;if it's your opinion that in aspiring to be connected
+with the Martins I'm forgetting my place and my station, just say so at
+once. Tell it to me frankly, and I'll know how to bear it,&rdquo; said he, at
+last, when all further endurance had become impossible.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Nothing of the kind, my dear Scanlan,&rdquo; said Jack, smiling blandly.
+&ldquo;Whatever snobbery once used to prevail on these subjects, we have come to
+live in a more generous age. The man of character, the man who unites an
+untarnished reputation to very considerable abilities, with talent to win
+any station, and virtues to adorn it, such a man wants no blazonry to
+illustrate his name, and it is mainly by such accessions that our English
+aristocracy, refreshed and invigorated as it is, preserves its great
+acknowledged superiority.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+It would have required a more acute critic than Maurice Scanlan to have
+detected the spirit in which this rhapsody was uttered. The apparent
+earnestness of the manner did not exactly consort with a certain pomposity
+of enunciation and an over-exactness in the tone of the declamation. On
+the whole Maurice did not like it. It smacked to his ears very like what
+he had often listened to in the Four Courts at the close of a &ldquo;junior's&rdquo;
+ address; and there was a Nisi Prius jingle in it that sounded marvellously
+unlike conviction.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;If, then,&rdquo; resumed Massingbred, &ldquo;they who by the accidents of fortune, or
+the meritorious services of their forefathers, represent rather in their
+elevation the gratitude of their country than&mdash;&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I 'm sorry to interrupt you, sir,&mdash;indeed, I'm ashamed of myself for
+doing it,&mdash;for your remarks are beautiful, downright eloquent; but
+the truth is, this is a case touches me too closely to make me care for a
+grand speech about it. I 'd rather have just a few words&mdash;to the
+evidence, as one might say,&mdash;or a simple answer to a plain question,
+Can this thing be done?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;There's where you beat us, Scanlan. There's where we cannot approach you.
+You are practical. You reduce a matter at once to the simple dimension of
+efficacy first, then possibility, and with these two conditions before you
+you reject the fifty extraneous considerations, outlying contingencies,
+that distract and embarrass such fellows as me.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I have no pretension to abilities like yours, Mr. Massingbred,&rdquo; said
+Scanlan, with unassumed modesty.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Ah, Scanlan, yours are the true gifts, take my word for it!&mdash;the
+recognized currency by which a man obtains what he seeks for; and there
+never was an era in which such qualities bore a higher value. Our
+statesmen, our diplomatists, our essay-writers,&mdash;nay, our very poets,
+addressing themselves as they do to the correction of social wrongs and
+class inequalities,&mdash;they are all 'practical'! That is the type of
+our time, and future historians will talk of this as the 'Age of Fact'!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+If one were to judge from Maurice Scanlan's face during the delivery of
+this peroration, it might be possibly inferred that he scarcely accepted
+the speech as an illustration in point, since anything less practical he
+had never listened to.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;When I think,&rdquo; resumed he, &ldquo;what a different effect I should have
+produced in the 'House' had I possessed this requisite! You, possibly, may
+be under the impression that I achieved a great success?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Well, I did hear as much,&rdquo; said Scanlan, half doggedly.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Perhaps it was so. A first speech, you are aware, is always listened to
+indulgently; not so a second, especially if a man rises soon after his
+first effort. They begin to suspect they have got a talkative fellow,
+eager and ready to speak on every question; they dread that, and even if
+he be clever, they 'll vote him a bore!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Faith! I don't wonder at it!&rdquo; said Maurice, with a hearty sincerity in
+the tone.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yet, after all, Scanlan, let us be just! How in Heaven's name, are men to
+become debaters, except by this same training? You require men not alone
+to be strong upon the mass of questions that come up in debate, but you
+expect them to be prompt with their explanations, always prepared with
+their replies. Not ransacking history, or searching through 'Hansard,' you
+want a man who, at the spur of the moment, can rise to defend, to explain,
+to simplify, or mayhap to assail, to denounce, to annihilate. Is n't that
+true?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I don't want any such thing, sir!&rdquo; said Scanlan, with a sulky
+determination that there was no misunderstanding.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You don't. Well, what <i>do</i> you ask for?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I'll tell you, sir, and in very few words, too, what I do <i>not</i> ask
+for! I don't ask to be humbugged, listening to this, that, and the other,
+that I have nothing to say to; to hear how you failed or why you
+succeeded; what you did or what you could n't do. I put a plain case to
+you, and I wanted as plain an answer. And as to your flattering me about
+being practical, or whatever you call it, it's a clean waste of time,
+neither less nor more!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;The agency and the niece!&rdquo; said Massingbred, with a calm solemnity that
+this speech had never disconcerted.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Them 's the conditions!&rdquo; said Scanlan, reddening over face and forehead.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You 're a plucky fellow, Scanlan, and by Jove I like you for it!&rdquo; said
+Massingbred. And for once there was a hearty sincerity in the way he
+spoke. &ldquo;If a man <i>is</i> to have a fall, let it be at least over a
+'rasper,' not be thrown over a furrow in a ploughed field! You fly at high
+game, but I'm far from saying you'll not succeed.&rdquo; And with a jocular
+laugh he turned away and left him.
+</p>
+<p>
+<a name="link2HCH0024" id="link2HCH0024">
+<!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+</p>
+<div style="height: 4em;">
+<br /><br /><br /><br />
+</div>
+<h2>
+CHAPTER XXIV. A CONSULTATION
+</h2>
+<p>
+Jack Massingbred was one of those who, in questions of difficulty, resort
+to the pen in preference to personal interference. It was a fancy of his
+that he wrote better than he talked. Very probably he thought so because
+the contrary was the fact. On the present occasion another motive had also
+its influence. It was Lady Dorothea that he addressed, and he had no
+especial desire to commit himself to a direct interview.
+</p>
+<p>
+His object was to convey Mr. Scanlan's propositions,&mdash;to place them
+fully and intelligibly before her Ladyship without a syllable of comment
+on his own part, or one word which could be construed into advocacy or
+reprobation of them. In truth, had he been called upon for an opinion, it
+would have sorely puzzled him what to say. To rescue a large estate from
+ruin was, to be sure, a very considerable service, but to accept Maurice
+Scanlan as a near member of one's family seemed a very heavy price even
+for that. Still, if the young lady liked him, singular as the choice might
+appear, other objections need not be insurmountable. The Martins were very
+unlikely ever to make Ireland their residence again, they would see little
+or nothing of this same Scanlan connection, &ldquo;and, after all,&rdquo; thought
+Jack, &ldquo;if we can only keep the disagreeables of this life away from daily
+intercourse, only knowing them through the post-office and at rare
+intervals, the compact is not a bad one.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Massingbred would have liked much to consult Miss Henderson upon the
+question itself, and also upon his manner of treating it; but to touch
+upon the point of a marriage of inequality with her, would have been
+dangerous ground. It was scarcely possible he could introduce the topic
+without dropping a word, or letting fall a remark she could not seize hold
+of. It was the theme, of all others, in which her sensitiveness was
+extreme; nor could he exactly say whether she sneered at a <i>mésalliance,</i>
+or at the insolent tone of society regarding it.
+</p>
+<p>
+Again he bethought him of the ungraciousness of the task he had assumed,
+if, as was most probable, Lady Dorothea should feel Mr. Scanlan's
+pretensions an actual outrage. &ldquo;She'll never forgive me for stating them,
+that's certain,&rdquo; said he; &ldquo;but will she do so if I decline to declare
+them, or worse still, leave them to the vulgar interpretation Scanlan
+himself is sure to impart to them?&rdquo; While he thus hesitated and debated
+with himself, now altering a phrase here, now changing a word there,
+Captain Martin entered the room, and threw himself into a chair with a
+more than ordinary amount of weariness and exhaustion.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;The governor's worse to-day, Massingbred,&rdquo; said he, with a sigh.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;No serious change, I hope?&rdquo; said Jack.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I suspect there is, though,&rdquo; replied the other. &ldquo;They sent for me from
+Lescour's last night, where I was winning smartly. Just like <i>my</i>
+luck always, to be called away when I was 'in vein,' and when I got here,
+I found Schubart, and a French fellow whom I don't know, had just bled
+him. It must have been touch and go, for when I saw him he was very ill&mdash;very
+ill indeed&mdash;and they call him better.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;It was a distinct attack, then,&mdash;a seizure of some sort?&rdquo; asked
+Massingbred.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yes, I think they said so,&rdquo; said he, lighting his cigar.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;But he has rallied, has n't he?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Well, I don't fancy he has. He lifts his eyes at times, and seems to look
+about for some one, and moves his lips a little, but you could scarcely
+say that he was conscious, though my mother insists he is.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;What does Schubart think?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Who minds these fellows?&rdquo; said he, impatiently. &ldquo;They're only speculating
+on what will be said of themselves, and so they go on: 'If this does not
+occur, and the other does not happen, we shall see him better this
+evening.'&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;This is all very bad,&rdquo; said Massingbred, gloomily&mdash;&ldquo;It's a deuced
+deal worse than you know of, old fellow,&rdquo; said Martin, bitterly.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Perhaps not worse than I suspect,&rdquo; said Massingbred.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;What do you mean by that?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Massingbred did not reply, but sat deep in thought for some time. &ldquo;Come,
+Martin,&rdquo; said he, at last, &ldquo;let us be frank; in a few hours it may be,
+perhaps, too late for frankness. Is this true?&rdquo; And he handed to him
+Merl's pocket-book, open at a particular page.
+</p>
+<p>
+Martin took it, and as his eyes traced the lines a sickly paleness covered
+his features, and in a voice scarcely stronger than an infant's, he said,
+&ldquo;It is so.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;The whole reversionary right?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Every acre&mdash;every stick and stone of it&mdash;except,&rdquo; added he,
+with a sickly attempt at a smile, &ldquo;a beggarly tract, near Kiltimmon, Mary
+has a charge upon.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Read that, now,&rdquo; said Jack, handing him his recently written letter. &ldquo;I
+was about to send it without showing it to you; but it is as well you saw
+it.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+While Martin was reading, Massingbred never took his eyes from him. He
+watched with all his own practised keenness the varying emotions the
+letter cost; but he saw that, as he finished, selfishness had triumphed,
+and that the prospect of safety had blunted every sentiment as to the
+price.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Well,&rdquo; said Jack, &ldquo;what say you to that?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I say it's a right good offer, and on no account to be refused. There is
+some hitch or other&mdash;I can't say what, but it exists, I know&mdash;which
+ties us up against selling. Old Repton and the governor, and I think my
+mother, too, are in the secret; but I never was, so that Scanlan's
+proposal is exactly what meets the difficulty.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;But do you like his conditions?&rdquo; asked Jack.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I can't say I do. But what 's that to the purpose? One must play the hand
+that is dealt to them; there 's no choice! I know that, as agent over the
+property, he 'll make a deuced good thing of it for himself. It will not
+be five nor ten per cent will satisfy Master Maurice.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yes; but there is another condition, also,&rdquo; said Jack, quietly.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;About Mary? Well, of course it's not the kind of thing one likes. The
+fellow is the lowest of the low; but even that's better, in some respects,
+than a species of half gentility, for he actually has n't one in the world
+belonging to him. No one ever heard of his father or mother, and he's not
+the fellow to go in search of them.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I confess that <i>is</i> a consideration,&rdquo; said Massingbred, with a tone
+that might mean equally raillery or the reverse, &ldquo;so that you see no great
+objection on that score?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I won't say I 'd choose the connection; but 'with a bad book it's at
+least a hedge,'&mdash;eh, Massy, is n't it?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Perhaps so,&rdquo; said the other, dryly.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;It does n't strike me,&rdquo; said Martin, as he glanced his eye again over the
+letter, &ldquo;that you have advocated Scanlan's plan. You have left it without,
+apparently, one word of comment. Does that mean that you don't approve of
+it?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I never promised him I would advocate it,&rdquo; said Jack.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I have no doubt, Massingbred, you think me a deuced selfish fellow for
+treating the question in this fashion; but just reflect a little, and see
+how innocently, as I may say, I was led into all these embarrassments. I
+never suspected how deep I was getting. Merl used to laugh at me if I
+asked him how we stood; he always induced me to regard our dealings as
+trifles, to be arranged to-day, to-morrow, or ten years hence.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I am not unversed in that sort of thing, unluckily,&rdquo; said Massingbred,
+interrupting him. &ldquo;There is another consideration, however, in the present
+case, to which I do not think you have given sufficient weight.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;As to Mary, my dear fellow, the matter is simple enough. Our consent is a
+mere form. If she liked Scanlan, she 'd marry him against all the Martins
+that ever were born; and if she did n't, she 'd not swerve an inch if the
+whole family were to go to the stake for it. She 's not one for half
+measures, I promise you; and then, remember, that though she is one 'of
+us,' and well born, she has never mingled with the society of her equals;
+she has always lived that kind of life you saw yourself,&mdash;taking a
+cast with the hounds one day, nursing some old hag with the rheumatism the
+next. I 've seen her hearing a class in the village school, and half an
+hour after, breaking in a young horse to harness. And what between her
+habits and her tastes, she is really not fit for what you and I would call
+the world.&rdquo; As Massingbred made no reply, Martin ascribed his silence to a
+part conviction, and went on: &ldquo;Mind, I 'm not going to say that she is not
+a deuced deal too good for Maurice Scanlan, who is as vulgar a hound as
+walks on two legs; but, as I said before, Massy, we haven't much choice.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Will Lady Dorothea be likely to view the matter in this light?&rdquo; asked
+Jack, calmly.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;That is a mere matter of chance. She 's equally likely to embrace the
+proposal with ardor, or tell a footman to kick Scanlan out of the house
+for his impertinence; and I own the latter is the more probable of the
+two,&mdash;not, mark you, from any exaggerated regard for Mary, but out of
+consideration to the insult offered to herself.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Will she not weigh well all the perils that menace the estate?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;She'll take a short method with them,&mdash;she'll not believe them.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Egad! I must say the whole negotiation is in a very promising state!&rdquo;
+ exclaimed Jack, as he arose and walked the room. &ldquo;There is only one
+amongst us has much head for a case of difficulty.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You mean Kate Henderson?&rdquo; broke in Martin.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yes.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Well, we 've lost <i>her</i> just when we most needed her.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Lost her! How&mdash;what do you mean?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Why, that she is gone&mdash;gone home. She started this morning before
+daybreak. She had a tiff with my mother last night. I will say the girl
+was shamefully treated,&mdash;shamefully! My Lady completely forgot
+herself. She was in one of those blessed paroxysms in which, had she been
+born a Pasha, heads would have been rolling about like shot in a dockyard,
+and she consequently said all manner of atrocities; and instead of giving
+her time to make the <i>amende</i>, Kate beat a retreat at once, and by
+this time she is some twenty miles on her journey.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Massingbred walked to the window to hide the emotion these tidings
+produced; for, with all his self-command, the suddenness of the
+intelligence had unmanned him, and a cold and sickly feeling came over
+him. There was far more of outraged and insulted pride than love in the
+emotions which then moved him. The bitter thought of the moment was, how
+indifferent she felt about <i>him</i>,&mdash;how little <i>he</i> weighed
+in any resolve she determined to follow. She had gone without a word of
+farewell,&mdash;perhaps without a thought of him. &ldquo;Be it so,&rdquo; said he to
+himself; &ldquo;there has been more than enough of humiliation to me in our
+intercourse. It is time to end it! The whole was a dream, from which the
+awaking was sure to be painful. Better meet it at once, and have done with
+it.&rdquo; There was that much of passion in this resolve that proved how far
+more it came from wounded pride than calm conviction; and so deeply was
+his mind engrossed with this feeling, that Martin had twice spoken to him
+ere he noticed his question.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Do you mean, then, to show that letter to my mother?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Ay; I have written it with that object Scanlan asked me to be his
+interpreter, and I have kept my pledge.&mdash;And did she go alone,&mdash;unaccompanied?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I fancy so; but, in truth, I never asked. The doctors were here, and all
+that fuss and confusion going on, so that I had really little head for
+anything. After all, I suspect she's a girl might be able to take care of
+herself,&mdash;should n't you say so?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Massingbred was silent for a while, and then said: &ldquo;You 'll have to be on
+the alert about this business of yours, Martin; and if I can be of service
+to you, command me. I mean to start for London immediately.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I 'll see my mother at once, then,&rdquo; said he, taking up Massingbred's
+letter.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Shall I meet you in about an hour, in the Lichtenthal Avenue?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Agreed,&rdquo; said he; and they parted.
+</p>
+<p>
+We have no need, nor have we any right, to follow Massingbred as he
+strolled out to walk alone in an alley of the wood. Irresolution is an
+intense suffering to men of action; and such was the present condition of
+his mind. Week after week, month after month, had he lingered on in
+companionship with the Martins, till such had become the intimacy between
+them that they scrupled not to discuss before him the most confidential
+circumstances, and ask his counsel on the most private concerns. He
+fancied that he was &ldquo;of them;&rdquo; he grew to think that he was, somehow, part
+and parcel of the family, little suspecting the while that Kate Henderson
+was the link that bound him to them, and that without her presence they
+resolved themselves into three individuals for whom he felt wonderfully
+little of interest or affection. &ldquo;She is gone, and what have I to stay
+for?&rdquo; was the question he put to himself; and for answer he could only
+repeat it.
+</p>
+<p>
+<a name="link2HCH0025" id="link2HCH0025">
+<!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+</p>
+<div style="height: 4em;">
+<br /><br /><br /><br />
+</div>
+<h2>
+CHAPTER XXV. A COMPROMISE
+</h2>
+<p>
+There are many who think that our law of primogeniture is a sad hardener
+of the heart,&mdash;estranging the father from the son, widening petty
+misunderstandings to the breadth of grievances, engendering suspicions
+where there should be trustfulness, and opening two roads in life to those
+who should rightfully have trod one path together. If one half of this be
+the price we pay for our &ldquo;great houses,&rdquo; the bargain is a bad one! But
+even taking a wide margin for exaggeration,&mdash;allowing much for the
+prejudices of those who assail this institution,&mdash;there is that which
+revolts against one's better nature, in the ever-present question of
+money, between the father and his heir. The very fact that separate rights
+suggest separate interests is a source of discord; while the inevitable
+law of succession is a stern defiance to that sense of protection on one
+side, and dependence on the other, that should mark their relations to
+each other.
+</p>
+<p>
+Captain Martin was not devoid of affection for his family. He had, it is
+true, been very little at home, but he did not dislike it, beyond the
+&ldquo;boredom&rdquo; of a rather monotonous kind of life. He was naturally of a
+plastic temperament, however, and he lived amongst a set whose good
+pleasure it is to criticise all who belong to them with the very frankest
+of candor. One told how his governor, though rolling in wealth, kept him
+on a most beggarly allowance, illustrating, with many an amusing story,
+traits of avarice that set the table in a roar. Another exhibited his as
+such a reckless spendthrift that the family estate would never cover the
+debts. There was a species of rivalry on seeing who should lay most open
+to public view details and incidents purely belonging to a family. It was
+even a principle of this new school to discuss, and suffer others to
+discuss before them, the class and condition of life of their parents in a
+tone of mockery and derision, whenever the occasion might admit it; and
+the son of the manufacturer or the trader listened to allusions to his
+birth and parentage, and even jested upon them himself, in a spirit more
+flattering to his philosophy than to his pride.
+</p>
+<p>
+Martin had lived amidst all this for years. He had been often complimented
+upon the &ldquo;jolly good thing he was to have one of these days;&rdquo; he had been
+bantered out of many a wise and prudent economy, by being reminded of that
+&ldquo;deuced fine property nobody could keep him out of.&rdquo; &ldquo;What can it signify
+to <i>you</i> old fellow, a few hundreds more or less. You must have
+fifteen thousand a year yet. The governor can't live forever, I take it.&rdquo;
+ Others, too, as self-invited guests, speculated on all the pleasures of a
+visit to Cro' Martin; and if at first the young man heard such projects
+with shame and repugnance, he learned at last to listen to them with
+indifference, perhaps with something less!
+</p>
+<p>
+Was it some self-accusing on this score that now overwhelmed him as he sat
+alone in his room, trying to think, endeavoring to arouse himself to
+action, but so overcome that he sat there only half conscious, and but
+dimly discerning the course of events about him? At such moments external
+objects mingle their influences with our thoughts, and the sound of
+voices, the tread of footsteps, the mere shutting of a door, seem to blend
+themselves with our reveries, and give somewhat of reality to our dreamy
+fancies. A large clock upon the mantelpiece had thus fixed his attention,
+and he watched the minute-hand as though its course was meting out the
+last moments of existence. &ldquo;Ere it reach that hour,&rdquo; thought he, fixing
+his gaze upon the dial, &ldquo;what a change may have come over all my
+fortunes!&rdquo; Years&mdash;long years&mdash;seemed to pass over as he waited
+thus; scenes of childhood, of infancy itself, mingled with the gay
+dissipations of his after-life; school days and nights at mess, wild
+orgies of the play-table and sad wakings on the morrow, all moved through
+his distracted brain, till at length it was only by an effort that he
+could shake off these flitting fancies and remember where he was.
+</p>
+<p>
+He at once bethought him that there was much to be done. He had given
+Massingbred's letter to his mother, entreating a prompt answer, but two
+hours had now elapsed and she had not sent her reply. There was a struggle
+between his better nature and his selfishness whether to seek her. The
+thought of that sick-room, dark and silent, appalled him. &ldquo;Is it at such a
+time I dare ask her to address her mind to this? and yet hours are now
+stealing over which may decide my whole fate in life.&rdquo; While he thus
+hesitated, Lady Dorothea entered the room. Nights of anxiety and watching,
+the workings of a spirit that fought inch by inch with fortune, were
+deeply marked upon her features. Weariness and fatigue had not brought
+depression on her, but rather imparted a feverish lustre to her eyes, and
+an expression of haughty energy to her face.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Am I to take this for true,&rdquo; said she, as, seating herself in front of
+him, she held out Massingbred's letter,&mdash;&ldquo;I mean, of course, what
+relates to yourself?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+He nodded sorrowfully, but did not speak.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;All literally the fact?&rdquo; said she, speaking slowly, and dwelling on every
+word. &ldquo;You have actually sold the reversion of the estate?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And am beggared!&rdquo; said he, sternly.
+</p>
+<p>
+Lady Dorothea tried to speak. She coughed, cleared her throat, made
+another effort, but without succeeding; and then, in a slightly broken
+voice, said, &ldquo;Fetch me a glass of water. No, sit down; I don't want it.&rdquo;
+ The blood again mounted to her pale cheeks, and she was herself again.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;These are hard terms of Scanlan's,&rdquo; said she, in a dry, stern tone. &ldquo;He
+has waited, too, till we have little choice remaining. Your father is
+worse.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Worse than when I saw him this morning?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Weaker, and less able to bear treatment. He is irritable, too, at that
+girl's absence. He asks for her constantly, and confuses her in his mind
+with Mary.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And what does Schubart think?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I'll tell you what he <i>says</i>,&rdquo; replied she, with a marked emphasis
+on the last word. &ldquo;He says the case is hopeless; he has seen such linger
+for weeks, but even a day&mdash;a day&mdash;&rdquo; She tried to go on; but her
+voice faltered, her lip trembled, and she was silent.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I had begun to believe it so,&rdquo; muttered Martin, gloomily. &ldquo;He scarcely
+recognized me yesterday.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;He is perfectly collected and sensible now,&rdquo; said Lady Dorothea, in her
+former calm tone. &ldquo;He spoke of business matters clearly and well, and
+wished to see Scanlan.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Which I trust you did not permit?&rdquo; asked Martin, hurriedly.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I told him he should see him this evening, but there is no necessity for
+it. Scanlan may have left this before evening.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You suspect that Scanlan would say something,&mdash;would mention to him
+something of this affair?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Discretion is not the quality of the low-born and the vulgar,&rdquo; said she,
+haughtily; &ldquo;self-importance alone would render him unsafe. Besides,&rdquo;&mdash;and
+this she said rapidly,&mdash;&ldquo;there is nothing to detain the man here,
+when he knows that we accept his conditions.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And are we to accept them?&rdquo; said Martin, anxiously.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Dare we refuse them? What is the alternative? I suppose what you have
+done with your Jew friend has been executed legally&mdash;formally?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Trust <i>him</i> for that; he has left no flaw there!&rdquo; said Martin,
+bitterly.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I was certain of it,&rdquo; said she, with a scarcely perceptible sneer.
+&ldquo;Everything, therefore, has been effected according to law?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yes, I believe so,&rdquo; replied he, doggedly.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Then really there is nothing left to us but Scanlan. He objects to
+Repton; so do I. I always deemed him obtrusive and familiar. In the
+management of an Irish estate such qualities may be reckoned essential. I
+know what we should think of them in England, and I know where we should
+place their possessor.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I believe the main question that presses now is, are we to have an estate
+at all?&rdquo; said the Captain, bitterly.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yes, sir, you have really brought it to that,&rdquo; rejoined she, with equal
+asperity.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Do you consent to his having the agency?&rdquo; asked Martin, with an immense
+effort to suppress passion.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yes.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And you agree, also, to his proposal for Mary?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;It is matter of complete indifference to me who Miss Martin marries, if
+she only continue to reside where she does at present. I 'm certain she 'd
+not consult <i>me</i> on the subject; I'm sure I'd never control <i>her</i>.
+It is a <i>mésalliance</i>, to be sure; but it would be equally so, if
+she, with her rustic habits and uneducated mind, were to marry what would
+be called her equal. In the present case, she 'll be a little better than
+her station; in the other, she 'd be vastly beneath it!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Poor Molly!&rdquo; said he, half aloud; and, for the first time, there was a
+touch of his father's tone and manner in the words.
+</p>
+<p>
+Lady Dorothea looked at him, and with a slight shrug of the shoulders
+seemed to sneer at his low-priced compassion.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Scoff away!&rdquo; said he, sternly; &ldquo;but if I thought that any consent we gave
+to this scheme could take the shape of a coercion, I 'd send the estate to
+the&mdash;&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You have, sir; you have done all that already,&rdquo; broke in Lady Dorothea.
+&ldquo;When the troubled breathing that we hear from yonder room ceases, there
+is no longer a Martin of Cro' Martin!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Then what are we losing time for?&rdquo; cried he, eagerly. &ldquo;Are moments so
+precious to be spent in attack and recrimination? There's Scanlan sitting
+on a bench before the door. Call him up&mdash;tell him you accept his
+terms&mdash;let him start for London, post haste. With every speed he can
+master he 'll not be a minute too soon. Shall I call him? Shall I beckon
+to him?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Send a servant for him,&rdquo; said Lady Dorothea, calmly, while she folded up
+the letter, and laid it on the table at her side.
+</p>
+<p>
+Martin rang the bell and gave the order, and then, assuming an air of
+composure he was very far from feeling, sat silently awaiting Scanlan's
+entrance. That gentleman did not long detain them. He had been sitting,
+watch in hand, for above an hour, looking occasionally up at the windows,
+and wondering why he had not been summoned. It was, then, with an almost
+abrupt haste that he at last presented himself.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Read over that letter, sir,&rdquo; said Lady Dorothea, &ldquo;and please to inform me
+if it rightly conveys your propositions.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Scanlan perused Massingbred's letter carefully, and folding it up,
+returned it. &ldquo;Yes, my Lady,&rdquo; said he, &ldquo;I think it embraces the chief
+points. Of course there is nothing specified as to the mode of carrying
+them out,&mdash;I mean, as to the security I should naturally look for. I
+believe your Ladyship does not comprehend me?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Not in the least, sir.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Well, if I must speak plainer, I want to be sure that your concurrence is
+no mere barren concession, my Lady; that, in admitting my pretensions,
+your Ladyship favors them. This is, of course,&rdquo; said he, in a tone of
+deference, &ldquo;if your Ladyship condescends to accept the terms at all; for,
+as yet, you have not said so.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;If I had not been so minded, sir, this interview would not have taken
+place.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Well, indeed, I thought as much myself,&rdquo; said he; &ldquo;and so I at once
+entered upon what one might call the working details of the measure.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;How long will it take you to reach London, sir?&rdquo; asked she, coldly.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Four days, my Lady, travelling night and day.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;How soon after your arrival there can you make such arrangements as will
+put this affair out of all danger, using every endeavor in your power?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I hope I could answer for that within a week,&mdash;maybe, less.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You'll have to effect it in half that time, sir,&rdquo; said she, solemnly.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Well, I don't despair of that same, if I have only your Ladyship's
+promise to all that is set down there. I 'll neither eat nor sleep till
+the matter is in good train.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I repeat, sir, that if this settlement be not accomplished in less than a
+week from the present moment, it may prove utterly valueless.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I can only say I'll do my best, my Lady. I'd be on the road this minute,
+if your Ladyship would dismiss me.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Very well, sir,&mdash;you are free. I pledge myself to the full
+conditions of this letter. Captain Martin binds himself equally to observe
+them.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I 'd like it in writing under your Ladyship's hand,&rdquo; said Scanlan, in a
+half whisper, as though afraid to speak such doubts aloud. &ldquo;It is not that
+I have the least suspicion or misgiving in life about your Ladyship's
+word,&mdash;I'd take it for a million of money,&mdash;but when I come to
+make my proposals in person to Miss Mary&mdash;&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;There, sir, that will do!&rdquo; said she, with a disdainful look, as if to
+repress an explanation so disagreeable. &ldquo;You need not enter further upon
+the question. If you address me by letter, I will reply to it.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;There it is, my Lady,&rdquo; said he, producing a sealed epistle, and placing
+it on the table before her. &ldquo;I had it ready, just not to be losing time.
+My London address is inside; and if you'll write to me by to-morrow's
+post,&mdash;or the day after,&rdquo; added he, remarking a movement of
+impatience in her face&mdash;&ldquo;You shall have your bond, sir,&mdash;you
+shall have your bond,&rdquo; broke she in, haughtily.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;That ought to be enough, I think,&rdquo; said the Captain, with a degree of
+irritation that bespoke a long internal conflict.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I want nothing beyond what I shall earn, Captain Martin,&rdquo; said Scanlan,
+as a flash of angry meaning covered his features.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And we have agreed to the terms, Mr. Scanlan,&rdquo; said her Ladyship, with a
+great effort to conciliate. &ldquo;It only remains for us to say, a good
+journey, and every success attend you.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Thank you, my Lady; I'm your most obedient. Captain, I wish you good-bye,
+and hope soon to send you happy tidings. I trust, if Mr. Martin asks after
+me, that you 'll give him my respectful duty; and if&mdash;&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;We'll forget nothing, sir,&rdquo; said Lady Dorothea, rising; and Scanlan,
+after a moment's hesitation as to whether he should venture to offer his
+hand,&mdash;a measure for which, happily, he could not muster the courage,&mdash;bowed
+himself out of the room, and closed the door.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Not a very cordial leave-taking for one that's to be her nephew,&rdquo;
+ muttered he, with a bitter laugh, as he descended the stairs. &ldquo;And,
+indeed, my first cousin, the Captain, is n't the model of family
+affection. Never mind, Maurice, your day is coming!&rdquo; And with this
+assuring reflection he issued forth to give orders for his journey.
+</p>
+<p>
+A weary sigh&mdash;the outpouring of an oppressed and jaded spirit&mdash;broke
+from Lady Dorothea as the door closed after him. &ldquo;Insufferable creature!&rdquo;
+ muttered she to herself? and then, turning to the Captain, said aloud, &ldquo;Is
+that man capable of playing us false?&mdash;or, rather, has he the power
+of doing so?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;It is just what I have been turning over in my own mind,&rdquo; replied he. &ldquo;I
+don't quite trust him; and, in fact, I'd follow him over to London, if I
+were free at this moment.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Perhaps you ought to do so; it might be the wisest course,&rdquo; said she,
+hesitatingly.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Do you think I could leave this with safety?&rdquo; asked he. But she did not
+seem to have heard the question. He repeated it, and she was still silent.
+&ldquo;If the doctors could be relied on, they should be able to tell us.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;To tell us what?&rdquo; asked she, abruptly, almost sternly.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I meant that they'd know&mdash;that they'd perhaps be in a position to
+judge&mdash;that they at least could warn us&mdash;&rdquo; Here he stopped,
+confused and embarrassed, and quite unable to continue. That sense of
+embarrassment, however, came less of his own reflections than of the cold,
+steady, and searching look which his mother never ceased to bend on him.
+It was a gaze that seemed to imply, &ldquo;Say on, and let me hear how destitute
+of all feeling you will avow yourself.&rdquo; It was, indeed, the meaning of her
+stare, and so he felt it, as the color came and went in his cheek, and a
+sense of faintish sickness crept over him.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;The post has arrived, my Lady, and I have left your Ladyship's letters on
+the dressing-table,&rdquo; said a servant. And Lady Dorothea, who had been
+impatiently awaiting the mall, hastened at once to her room.
+</p>
+<p>
+<a name="link2HCH0026" id="link2HCH0026">
+<!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+</p>
+<div style="height: 4em;">
+<br /><br /><br /><br />
+</div>
+<h2>
+CHAPTER XXVI. A LETTER THAT NEVER REACHES ITS ADDRESS
+</h2>
+<p>
+It was not without a very painful emotion that Lady Dorothea turned over a
+mass of letters addressed to her husband. They came from various quarters,
+written in all the moods of many minds. Some were the mere gossip of clubs
+and dinnerparties,&mdash;some were kindly and affectionate inquiries,
+gentle reproachings on his silence, and banterings about his pretended low
+spirits. A somewhat favorite tone is that same raillery towards those
+whose lot in life seems elevated above the casualties of fortune,
+forgetting the while that the sunniest path has its shadows, and they whom
+we deem exempt from the sore trials of the world have their share of its
+sorrows. These read strangely now, as he to whom they were addressed lay
+breathing the heavy and labored breath, and muttering the low broken
+murmurs that prelude the one still deeper sleep!
+</p>
+<p>
+With a tremulous hand, and a gesture of fretful impatience, she threw them
+from her one after the other. The topics and the tone alike jarred upon
+her nerves. They seemed so unfeeling, too, and so heartless at such a
+moment. Oh, if we wanted to moralize over the uncertainty of life, what a
+theme might we have in the simple fact that, quicker than the lines we are
+writing fall from our pen, are oftentimes changing the whole fate and
+fortune of him for whom we destine them! We are telling of hope where
+despair has already entered,&mdash;we are speaking joy to a house of
+mourning! But one letter alone remained unopened. It was in Repton's hand,
+and she broke the seal, wondering how he, who of all men hated writing,
+should have turned a correspondent.
+</p>
+<p>
+The &ldquo;strictly confidential&rdquo; of the cover was repeated within; but the hour
+had come when she could violate the caution, and she read on. The first
+few lines were a half-jesting allusion to Martin's croakings about his
+health; but even these had a forced, constrained air, and none of the
+jocular ease of the old man's manner. &ldquo;And yet,&rdquo; continued he, &ldquo;it is
+exactly about your health I am most anxious. I want you to be strong and
+stout, body and mind, ready for action, and resolute. I know the tone and
+style that an absentee loves and even requires to be addressed in. He
+wants to be told that, however he may be personally regretted, matters go
+on wonderfully well in his absence, that rent is paid, farms improved,
+good markets abound, and the county a pattern of quietness. I could tell
+you all this, Martin, and not a syllable of it be true. The rents are not
+paid, partly from a season of great pressure, but, more still, from an
+expectancy on the side of the people that something&mdash;they know not
+what&mdash;is coming. The Relief Bill only relieved those who wanted to
+job in politics and make market of their opinions; the masses it has
+scarcely touched. They are told they are emancipated, but I am at a loss
+to know in what way they realize to their minds the new privilege. Their
+leaders have seen this. Shrewd fellows as they are, they have guessed what
+disappointment must inevitably ensue when the long-promised boon can show
+nothing as its results but certain noisy mob-orators made Parliament men;
+and so they have slyly hinted,&mdash;as yet it is only a hint,&mdash;'this
+is but the first step&mdash;an instalment they call it&mdash;of a large
+debt, every fraction of which must yet be paid!'
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Now there is not in all Europe a more cunning or a deeper fellow than
+Paddy. He has an Italian's subtlety and a Celt's suspicion; but enlist his
+self-love, his vanity, and his acquisitiveness in any scheme, and all his
+shrewdness deserts him. The old hackney coach-horses never followed the
+hay on the end of the pole more hopefully than will he travel after some
+promised future of 'fine times,' with plenty to eat and drink, and nothing
+to do for it! They have booked themselves now for this journey, and the
+delusion must run its course. Meanwhile rents will not be paid, farms not
+improved, bad prices and poverty will abound, and the usual crop of
+discontent and its consequent crime. I 'm not going to inflict you with my
+own opinions on this theme. You know well enough already that I never
+regarded these 'Agrarian disturbances,' as they are called, in the light
+of passing infractions of the peace, but traced in them the continuous
+working of a long preconcerted plan,&mdash;the scheme of very different
+heads from those who worked it,&mdash;by which the law should ever be
+assailed and the right of property everlastingly put in dispute. In plain
+words, the system was a standing protest against the sway of the Saxons in
+Ireland! 'The agitators' understood thoroughly how to profit by this, and
+they worked these alternate moods of outrage and peace pretty much as the
+priests of old guided their auguries. They brought the game to that
+perfection that a murder could shake a ministry, or a blank calendar
+become the triumph of an Administration!
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Such is, at the moment I am writing, the actual condition of Ireland!
+Come home, then, at once,&mdash;but come alone. Come back resolved to see
+and act for yourself. There is a lingering spark of the old feudalism yet
+left in the people. Try and kindle it up once more into the old healthful
+glow of love to the landlord. Some would say it is too late for all this;
+but I will not think so. Magennis has given us an open defiance; we are to
+be put on our title. Now, you are well aware there is a complication here,
+and I shall want to consult you personally; besides, we must have a search
+through those registries that are locked up in the strong-room. Mary tells
+me you carried away the key of it. I tell you frankly, I wish we could hit
+upon some means of stopping Magennis. The suit is a small war, that
+demands grand preparation,&mdash;always a considerable evil! The fellow, I
+am told, is also concocting another attack,&mdash;an action against your
+niece and others for the forcible abduction of his wife. It would read
+fabulously enough, such a charge, but as old Casey said, 'There never yet
+was anything you could n't impute at law, if you only employed the word
+&ldquo;conspiracy;&rdquo;' and I believe it! The woman certainly has deserted him, and
+her whereabouts cannot be ascertained. The scandal of such a cause would
+of course be very great; but if you were here we might chance upon some
+mode of averting it,&mdash;at all events, your niece shouldn't be deserted
+at such a moment. What a noble girl it is, Martin, and how gloriously she
+comprehends her station! Give me a dozen like her, and I 'll bid defiance
+to all the machinations of all the agitators; and they know it!
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;If your estate has resisted longer than those of your neighbors the
+demoralizing influences that are now at work here, you owe it to Mary. If
+crime has not left its track of blood along your avenue or on your
+door-sill, it is she who has saved you. If the midnight hour has not been
+scared by the flame of your burning house or haggard, thank <i>her</i> for
+it,&mdash;ay, Martin, <i>her</i> courage, <i>her</i> devotion, <i>her</i>
+watchful charity, <i>her</i> unceasing benevolence, the glorious guarantee
+her daily life gives, that <i>she</i>, at least, is with the people in all
+their sufferings and their trials! You or I had abandoned with impatience
+the cause that she had succored against every disappointment. Her woman's
+nature has endowed her with a higher and a nobler energy than ever a man
+possessed. She <i>will not</i> be defeated.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Henderson may bewail, and Maurice Scanlan deride, the shortcomings of the
+people. But through evil and good report she is there to hear from their
+own lips, to see with her own eyes, the story of their sorrows. Is this
+nothing? Is there no lesson in the fact that she, nurtured in every
+luxury, braves the wildest day of winter in her mission of charity?&mdash;that
+the most squalid misery, the most pestilent disease never deterred her? I
+saw her a few days back coming home at daybreak; she had passed the night
+in a hovel where neither you nor I would have taken shelter in a storm.
+The hectic flush of fatigue and anxiety was on her cheek; her eyes, deep
+sunk, showed weariness; and her very voice, as she spoke to me, was
+tremulous and weak; and of what, think you, was her mind full? Of the
+noble calm, the glorious, patient endurance of those she had just quitted.
+'What lessons might we not learn,' said she, 'beneath the wet thatch of
+poverty! There are three struck down with fever in that cabin; she who
+remains to nurse them is a little girl of scarcely thirteen. There is all
+that can render sickness wretched around them. They are in pain and in
+want; cold winds and rain sweep across their beds, if we could call them
+such. If they cherish the love of life, it must be through some instinct
+above all reason; and there they lie, uncomplaining. The little remnant of
+their strength exhausts itself in a look of thankfulness,&mdash;a faint
+effort to say their gratitude. Oh, if querulous hypochondriacism could but
+see them, what teaching it might learn! Sufferings that call forth from us
+not alone peevishness and impatience, but actually traits of rude and
+ungenerous meaning, develop in them an almost refined courtesy, and a
+trustfulness that supplies all that is most choice in words of gratitude.'
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And this is the girl whose life every day, every hour is imperilling,&mdash;who
+encounters all the hazards of our treacherous climate, and all the more
+fatal dangers of a season of pestilence, without friends, without a home!
+Now, Martin, apart from all higher and better considerations on the
+subject, this was not your compact,&mdash;such was not the text of your
+bargain with poor Barry. The pledge you gave him at your last parting was
+that she should be your daughter. That you made her feel all the affection
+of one, none can tell more surely than myself. That your own heart
+responds to her love I am as fully convinced of. But this is not enough,
+my dear Martin. She has rights&mdash;actual rights&mdash;that no special
+pleading on the score of intentions or good wishes can satisfy. I should
+but unworthily discharge my office, as your oldest friend in the world, if
+I did not place this before you broadly and plainly. The country is dull
+and wearisome, devoid of society, and without resources, and you leave it;
+but you leave behind you, to endure all its monotony, all its weariness,
+one who possesses every charm and every attention that are valued in the
+great world! There is fever and plague abroad, insurrection threatens, and
+midnight disturbances are rife, and she who is to confront these perils is
+a girl of twenty. The spirit of an invading party threatens to break down
+all the prestige of old family name and property,&mdash;a cunningly
+devised scheme menaces the existence of an influence that has endured for
+centuries; and to oppose its working, or fall victim to its onslaught, you
+leave a young lady, whose very impulses of generous meaning may be made
+snares to entrap her. In a word, you neglect duty, desert danger, shun the
+path of honorable exertion, and retreat before the menace of an encounter,
+to place, where you should stand yourself, the frail figure and gentle
+nature of one who was a child, as it were, but yesterday. Neither your
+health nor your happiness can be purchased at such a price,&mdash;your
+conscience is too sound for that,&mdash;nor can your ease! No, Martin,
+your thoughts will stray over here, and linger amongst these lonely glens
+that she is treading. Your fancy will follow her through the dark nights
+of winter, as alone she goes forth on her mission of mercy. You will think
+of her, stooping to teach the young&mdash;bending over the sick-bed of
+age. And then, tracing her footsteps homeward, you will see her sit down
+by a solitary hearth,&mdash;none of her own around her,&mdash;not one to
+advise, to counsel, to encourage her! I will say no more on this theme;
+your own true heart has already anticipated all that <i>I</i> could <i>speak</i>,&mdash;all
+that <i>you</i> should <i>do</i>.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Now for one more question, and I shall have finished the most painful
+letter I ever wrote in my life. There are rumors&mdash;I cannot trace
+them, nor fully understand them, but they imply that Captain Martin has
+been raising very considerable sums by reversionary bonds and post-obits.
+Without being able to give even a guess, as to the truth of this, I draw
+your attention to the bare possibility, as of a case full of very serious
+complications. Speak to your son at once on the subject, and learn the
+truth,&mdash;the whole truth. My own fears upon the matter have been
+considerably strengthened by hearing of a person who has been for several
+weeks back making inquiries on the estate. He has resided usually at
+Kilkieran, and spends his time traversing the property in all directions,
+investigating questions of rent, wages, and tenure of land. They tell
+marvellous stories of his charity and so forth,&mdash;blinds, doubtless,
+to cover his own immediate objects. Mary, however, I ought to say, takes a
+very different view of his character, and is so anxious to know him
+personally that I promised her to visit him, and bring him to visit her at
+the cottage. And, by the way, Martin, why should she be at the cottage,&mdash;why
+not at Cro' Martin? What miserable economy has dictated a change that must
+reflect upon her influence, not to speak of what is justly due to her own
+station? I could swear that you never gave a willing consent to this
+arrangement. No, no, Martin, the plan was never yours.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I 'm not going to bore you with borough politics. To tell truth, I can't
+comprehend them. They want to get rid of Massingbred, but they don't see
+who is to succeed him. Young Nelligan ought to be the man, but he will
+not. He despises his party,&mdash;or at least what would call itself his
+party,&mdash;and is resolved never to concern himself with public affairs.
+Meanwhile he is carrying all before him at the Bar, and is as sure of the
+Bench as though he were on it.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;When he heard of Magennis's intention of bringing this action against
+Mary, he came up to town to ask me to engage him on our side, 'since,'
+said he, 'if they send me a brief I cannot refuse it, and if I accept it,
+I promise you it shall be my last cause, for I have resolved to abandon
+the Bar the day after.' This, of course, was in strictest secrecy, and so
+you must regard it. He is a cold, calm fellow, and yet on this occasion he
+seemed full of impulsive action.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I had something to tell you about Henderson, but I actually forget what
+it was. I can only remember it was disagreeable; and as this epistle has
+its due share of bitters, my want of memory is perhaps a benefit; and so
+to release you at once, I 'll write myself, as I have never ceased to be
+for forty years,
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Your attached friend,
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Val. Repton.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I believe I was wrong about Henderson; at least the disagreeable went no
+further than that he is supposed to be the channel through which Lady
+Dorothea occasionally issues directions, not always in agreement with
+Mary's notions. And as your niece never liked the man, the measures are
+not more palatable when they come through his intervention.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Lady Dorothea was still pondering over this letter, in which there were so
+many things to consider, when a hurried message called her to the
+sick-room. As she approached the room, she could hear Martin's voice
+calling imperiously and angrily to the servants, and ordering them to
+dress him. The difficulty of utterance seemed to increase his irritation,
+and gave to his words a harsh, discordant tone, very unlike his natural
+voice.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;So,&rdquo; cried he, as she entered, &ldquo;you have come at last. I am nigh
+exhausted with telling them what I want. I must get up, Dora. They must
+help me to dress.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+As he was thus speaking, the servants, at a gesture from her Ladyship,
+quietly stole from the chamber, leaving her alone at his bedside.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You are too weak for this exertion, Godfrey,&rdquo; said she, calmly. &ldquo;Any
+effort like this is certain to injure you.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You think so?&rdquo; asked he, with the tone of deference that he generally
+used towards her. &ldquo;Perhaps you are right, Dora; but how can it be helped?&mdash;there
+is so much to do, such a long way to travel. What a strange confusion is
+over me! Do you know, Dolly,&rdquo;&mdash;here his voice fell to a mere whisper,&mdash;&ldquo;you'll
+scarcely credit it; but all the time I have been fancying myself at Cro'
+Martin, and here we are in&mdash;in&mdash;what do you call the place?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Baden.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yes&mdash;yes&mdash;but the country?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Germany.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Ay, to be sure, Germany; hundreds of miles away from home!&rdquo; Here he
+raised himself on one arm, and cast a look of searching eagerness through
+the room. &ldquo;Is he gone?&rdquo; whispered he, timidly.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Of whom are you speaking?&rdquo; said she.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Hush, Dolly, hush!&rdquo; whispered he, still lower. &ldquo;I promised I 'd not tell
+any one, even you, of his being here. But I must speak of it&mdash;I must&mdash;or
+my brain will turn. He was here&mdash;he sat in that very chair&mdash;he
+held my hand within both his own. Poor, poor fellow! how his eyes filled
+when he saw me! He little knew how changed he himself was!&mdash;his hair
+white as snow, and his eyes so dimmed!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;This was a dream, Godfrey,&mdash;only a dream!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I thought you 'd say so,&mdash;I knew it,&rdquo; said he, sorrowfully; &ldquo;but <i>I</i>
+know better. The dear old voice rang in my heart as I used to hear it when
+a child, as he said, 'Do you remember me?' To be sure I remembered him,
+and told him to go and fetch Molly; and his brow darkened when I said
+this, and he drew back his hand and said, 'You have deserted her,&mdash;she
+is not here!'&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;All this is mere fancy, Godfrey; you have been dreaming of home.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Ay,&rdquo; muttered he, gloomily, &ldquo;it was but too true; we did desert her, and
+that was not our bargain, Dolly. It was all the poor fellow asked at our
+hands,&mdash;his last, his only condition. What's that letter you have
+there?&rdquo; cried he, impatiently, as Lady Dorothea, in the agitation of the
+moment, continued to crumple Repton's letter between her fingers.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;A letter I have been reading,&rdquo; said she, sternly.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;From whom&mdash;from whom?&rdquo; asked he, still more eagerly.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;A letter from Mr. Repton. You shall read it when you are better. You are
+too weak for all this exertion, God-frey; you must submit&mdash;&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Submit!&rdquo; broke he in; &ldquo;the very word he said. You submit yourself to
+anything, if it only purchase your selfish ease. No, Dolly, no, I am
+wrong. It was I that said so. I owned to him how unworthily I had acted.
+Give me that letter, madam. Let me see it,&rdquo; said he, imperiously.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;When you are more tranquil, Godfrey,&mdash;in a fitting state.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I tell you, madam,&rdquo; cried he, fiercely, &ldquo;this, is no time for trifling or
+deception. Repton knows all our affairs. If he has written now, it is
+because matters are imminent. My head is clear now. I can think&mdash;I
+can speak. It is full time Harry should hear the truth. Let him come
+here.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Take a little rest, Godfrey, be it only half an hour, and you shall have
+everything as you wish it.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Half an hour! you speak of half an hour to one whose years are minutes
+now!&rdquo; said he, in a broken voice. &ldquo;This poor brain, Dora, is already
+wandering. The strange things I have seen so lately&mdash;that poor fellow
+come back after so many years&mdash;so changed, so sadly changed&mdash;but
+I knew him through all the mist and vapor of this feverish state; I saw
+him clearly, my own dear Barry!&rdquo; The word, as it were the last barrier to
+his emotion, brought forth a gush of tears; and burying his face within
+the bedclothes, he sobbed himself to sleep. As he slept, however, he
+continued to mutter about home and long passed years,&mdash;of boyish
+sports with his brother; childish joys and sorrows were all mingled there,
+with now and then some gloomier reveries of later days.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;He has been wandering in his mind!&rdquo; whispered Lady Dorothea to her son,
+as he joined her in the darkened room. &ldquo;He woke up, believing that he had
+seen his brother, and the effect was very painful.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Has he asked for <i>me?</i>&rdquo; inquired the other.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;No; he rambled on about Mary, and having deserted her, and all that; and
+just as ill-luck would have it, here is a letter from Repton, exactly
+filled with the very same theme. He insists on seeing it; but of course he
+will have forgotten it when he awakes.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You have written to Scanlan?&rdquo; asked he.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yes; my letter has been sent off.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Minutes are precious now. If anything should occur here,&rdquo;&mdash;his eyes
+turned towards the sick-bed as he spoke,&mdash;&ldquo;Merl will refuse to treat.
+His people&mdash;I know they are his&mdash;are hovering about the hotel
+all the morning. I heard the waiter whispering as I passed, and caught the
+words, 'No better; worse, if anything.' The tidings would be in London
+before the post.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Lady Dorothea made no reply, and all was now silent, save the unequal but
+heavy breathings of the sick man, and the faint, low mutterings of his
+dream. &ldquo;In the arras&mdash;between the window and the wall&mdash;there it
+is, Barry,&rdquo; cried he, in a clear, distinct voice. &ldquo;Repton has a copy of
+it, too, with Catty's signature,&mdash;old Catty Broon.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;What is he dreaming of?&rdquo; asked the young man.
+</p>
+<p>
+But, instead of replying to the question, Lady Dorothea bent down her head
+to catch the now muttered words of the sleeper.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;He says something of a key. What key does he mean?&rdquo; asked he.
+</p>
+<p>
+<a name="linkimage-0012" id="linkimage-0012">
+<!-- IMG --></a>
+</p>
+<div class="fig" style="width:80%;">
+<img src="images/297.jpg" width="100%" alt="297 " />
+</div>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Fetch me that writing-desk,&rdquo; said Lady Dorothea, as she took several keys
+from her pockets; and noiselessly unlocking the box, she began to search
+amidst its contents. As she continued, her gestures grew more and more
+hurried; she threw papers recklessly here and there, and at last emptied
+the entire contents upon the table before her. &ldquo;See, search if there be a
+key here,&rdquo; cried she, in a broken voice; &ldquo;I saw it here three days ago.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;There is none here,&rdquo; said he, wondering at her eagerness.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Look carefully,&mdash;look well for it,&rdquo; said she, her voice trembling at
+every word.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Is it of such consequence&mdash;&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;It is of such consequence,&rdquo; broke she in, &ldquo;that he into whose hands it
+falls can leave you and me beggars on the world!&rdquo; An effort at awaking by
+the sick man here made her hastily restore the papers to the desk, which
+she locked, and replaced upon the table.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Was it the Henderson did this?&rdquo; said she aloud, as if asking the question
+of herself. &ldquo;Could she have known this secret?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Did what? What secret?&rdquo; asked he, anxiously.
+</p>
+<p>
+A low, long sigh announced that the sick man was awaking; and in a faint
+voice he said, &ldquo;I feel better, Dora. I have had a sleep, and been dreaming
+of home and long ago. To-morrow, or next day, perhaps, I may be strong
+enough to leave this. I want to be back there again. Nay, don't refuse
+me,&rdquo; said he, timidly.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;When you are equal to the journey&mdash;&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I have a still longer one before me, Dora, and even less preparation for
+it. Harry, I have something to say to you, if I were strong enough to say
+it,&mdash;this evening, perhaps.&rdquo; Wearied by the efforts he had made, he
+lay back again with a heavy sigh, and was silent.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Is he worse&mdash;is he weaker?&rdquo; asked his son.
+</p>
+<p>
+A mournful nod of the head was her reply.
+</p>
+<p>
+Young Martin arose and stole noiselessly from the room, he scarcely knew
+whither; he indeed cared not which way he turned. The future threw its
+darkest shadows before him. He had little to hope for, as little to love.
+His servant gave him a letter which Massingbred had left on his departure,
+but he never opened it; and in a listless vacuity he wandered out into the
+wood.
+</p>
+<p>
+It was evening as he turned homeward. His first glance was towards the
+windows of his father's room. They were wont to be closely shuttered and
+fastened; now one of them lay partly open, and a slight breeze stirred the
+curtain within. A faint, sickly fear of he knew not what crept over him.
+He walked on quicker; but as he drew nigh the door, his servant met him.
+&ldquo;Well!&rdquo; cried he, as though expecting a message.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yes, sir, it is all over; he went off about an hour since.&rdquo; The man added
+something; but Martin heard no more, but hurried to his room, and locked
+the door.
+</p>
+<p>
+<a name="link2HCH0027" id="link2HCH0027">
+<!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+</p>
+<div style="height: 4em;">
+<br /><br /><br /><br />
+</div>
+<h2>
+CHAPTER XXVII. A VERY BRIEF INTERVIEW.
+</h2>
+<p>
+When Jack Massingbred found himself once more &ldquo;in town,&rdquo; and saw that the
+tide of the mighty world there rolled on the same full, boiling flood he
+had remembered it of yore, he began to wonder where and how he had
+latterly been spending his life. There were questions of politics&mdash;mighty
+interests of which every one was talking&mdash;of which he knew nothing;
+party changes and new social combinations had arisen of which he was
+utterly ignorant. But what he still more acutely deplored was that he
+himself had, so to say, dropped out of the memory of his friends, who
+accosted him with that half-embarrassed air that says, &ldquo;Have you been ill?&mdash;or
+in India?&mdash;or how is it that we have n't met you about?&rdquo; It was last
+session he had made a flash speech,&mdash;an effort that his own party
+extolled to the skies, and even the Opposition could only criticise the
+hardihood and presumption of so very young a member of the House,&mdash;and
+now already people had ceased to bear him in mind.
+</p>
+<p>
+The least egotistical of men&mdash;and Massingbred did not enter into this
+category&mdash;find it occasionally very hard to bear the cool &ldquo;go-by&rdquo; the
+world gives them whenever a chance interval has withdrawn them from public
+view. The stern truth of how little each atom of the social scheme affects
+the working of the whole machinery is far from palatable in its personal
+application. Massingbred was probably sensitive enough on this score, but
+too consummate a tactician to let any one guess his feelings; and so he
+lounged down to the &ldquo;House,&rdquo; and lolled at his Club, and took his airings
+in the Park with all the seeming routine of one who had never abdicated
+these enjoyments for a day.
+</p>
+<p>
+He had promised, and really meant, to have looked after Martin's affairs
+on his reaching London; but it was almost a week after his return that he
+bethought him of his pledge, his attention being then called to the
+subject by finding on his table the visiting-card of Mr. Maurice Scanlan.
+Perhaps he was not sorry to have something to do; perhaps he had some
+compunctions of conscience for his forgetfulness; at all events, he sent
+his servant at once to Scanlan's hotel, with a request that he would call
+upon him as early as might be. An answer was speedily returned that Mr.
+Scanlan was about to start for Ireland that same afternoon, but would wait
+upon him immediately. The message was scarcely delivered when Scanlan
+himself appeared.
+</p>
+<p>
+Dressed in deep mourning, but with an easy complacency of manner that
+indicated very little of real grief, he threw himself into a chair,
+saying, &ldquo;I pledge you my word of honor, it is only to yourself I 'd have
+come this morning, Mr. Massingbred, for I 'm actually killed with
+business. No man would believe the letters I've had to read and answer,
+the documents to examine, the deeds to compare, the papers to investigate&mdash;&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Is the business settled, then&mdash;or in train of settlement?&rdquo; broke in
+Jack.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I suppose it <i>is</i> settled,&rdquo; replied Scanlan, with a slight laugh.
+&ldquo;Of course you know Mr. Martin is dead?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Dead! Good heavens! When did this occur?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;We got the news&mdash;that is, Merl did&mdash;the day before yesterday. A
+friend of his who had remained at Baden to watch events started the moment
+he breathed his last, and reached town thirty hours before the mail; not,
+indeed, that the Captain has yet written a line on the subject to any
+one.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And what of the arrangement? Had you come to terms previously with Merl?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;No; he kept negotiating and fencing with us from day to day, now asking
+for this, now insisting on that, till the evening of his friend's arrival,
+when, by special appointment, I had called to confer with him. Then,
+indeed, he showed no disposition for further delay, but frankly told me
+the news, and said, 'The Conferences are over, Scanlan. I 'm the Lord of
+Cro' Martin.'&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And is this actually the case,&mdash;has he really established his claim
+in such a manner as will stand the test of law and the courts?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;He owns every acre of it; there's not a flaw in his title; he has managed
+to make all Martin's debts assume the shape of advances in hard cash.
+There is no trace of play transactions throughout the whole. I must be
+off, Mr. Massing-bred; there 's the chaise now at the door.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Wait one moment, I entreat of you. Can nothing be done? Is it too late to
+attempt any compromise?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;To be sure it is. He has sent off instructions already to serve the
+notice for ejectment. I 've got orders myself to warn the tenants not to
+pay the last half-year, except into court.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Why, are <i>you</i> in Mr. Merl's service, then?&rdquo; asked Jack, with one of
+his quiet laughs.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I am, and I am not,&rdquo; said Scanlan, reddening. &ldquo;You know the compact I
+made with Lady Dorothea at Baden. Well, of course there is no longer any
+question about that. Still, if Miss Mary agrees to accept me, I 'll stand
+by the old family! There 's no end of trouble and annoyance we could n't
+give Merl before he got possession. I know the estate well, and where the
+worst fellows on it are to be found! It's one thing to have the parchments
+of a property, and it is another to be able to go live on it, and draw the
+rents. But I can't stay another minute. Good-bye, air. Any chance of
+seeing you in the West soon?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I 'm not sure I 'll not go over to-morrow,&rdquo; said Jack, musing.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I suppose you are going to blarney the constituency?&rdquo; said Maurice,
+laughing heartily at his coarse conceit. Then suddenly seeing that
+Massingbred did not seem to relish the freedom, he hurriedly repeated his
+leave-takings, and departed.
+</p>
+<p>
+<a name="link2HCH0028" id="link2HCH0028">
+<!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+</p>
+<div style="height: 4em;">
+<br /><br /><br /><br />
+</div>
+<h2>
+CHAPTER XXVIII. THE DARK SIDE OF A CHARACTER.
+</h2>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Ye might ken the style of these epistles by this time, Dinah,&rdquo; said Mr.
+Henderson, as he walked leisurely up and down a long low-ceilinged room,
+and addressed himself to a piece of very faded gentility, who sat at a
+writing-table. &ldquo;She wants to hear naething but what she likes, and, as
+near as may be, in her ain words too.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I always feel as if I was copying out the same letter every time I
+write,&rdquo; whined out a weak, sickly voice.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;The safest thing ye could do,&rdquo; replied he, gravely. &ldquo;She never tires o'
+reading that everybody on the estate is a fule or a scoundrel, and ye
+canna be far wrang when ye say the worst o' them all. Hae ye told her
+aboot the burnin' at Kyle-a-Noe?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yes, I have said that you have little doubt it was malicious.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And hae ye said that there's not a sixpence to be had out of the whole
+townland of Kiltimmon?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I have. I have told her that, except Miss Mary herself, nobody would
+venture into the barony.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;The greater fule yerself, then,&rdquo; said he, angrily. &ldquo;Couldna ye see that
+she'll score this as a praise o' the young leddy's courage? Ye maun just
+strike it out, ma'am, and say that the place is in open rebellion&mdash;&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I thought you bade me say that Miss Mary had gone down there and spoken
+to the people&mdash;&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I bade ye say,&rdquo; broke he angrily in, &ldquo;that Miss Mary declared no rent
+should be demanded o' them in their present distress; that she threw the
+warrants into the fire, and vowed that if we called a sale o' their
+chattels, she 'd do the same at the castle, and give the people the
+proceeds.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You only said that she was in such a passion that she declared she 'd be
+right in doing so.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I hae nae time for hair-splitting, ma'am. I suppose if she had a right
+she 'd exercise it! Put down the words as I gie them to ye! Ye hae no
+forgotten the conspeeracy?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I gave it exactly as you told me, and I copied out the two paragraphs in
+the papers about it, beginning, 'Great scandal,' and 'If our landed gentry
+expect&mdash;'&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;That's right; and ye hae added the private history of Joan? They 'll make
+a fine thing o' that on the trial, showing the chosen associate o' a young
+leddy to hae been naething better than&mdash;Ech! what are ye blubberin'
+aboot,&mdash;is it yer feelin's agen? Ech! ma'am, ye are too sentimental
+for a plain man like me!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+This rude speech was called up by a smothering effort to conceal emotion,
+which would not be repressed, but burst forth in a violent fit of sobbing.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I know you didn't mean it. I know you were not thinking&mdash;&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;If ye canna keep your ain counsel, ye must just pay the cost o' it,&rdquo; said
+he, savagely. &ldquo;Finish the letter there, and let me send it to the post. I
+wanted ye to say a' about the Nelligans comin' up to visit Miss Mary, and
+she goin' ower the grounds wi' them, and sendin' them pineapples and
+grapes, and how that the doctor's girls are a'ways wi' her, and that she
+takes old Catty out to drive along wi' herself in the pony phaeton, which
+is condescendin' in a way her Leddyship will no approve o'. There was mony
+a thing beside I had in my head, but ye hae driven them a' clean awa' wi'
+your feelin's!&rdquo; And he gave the last word with an almost savage severity.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Bide a wee!&rdquo; cried he, as she was folding up the letter. &ldquo;Ye may add that
+Mister Scanlan has taken to shootin' over the preserves we were keepin'
+for the Captain, and if her Leddyship does not wish to banish the
+woodcocks a'the-gither, she 'd better gie an order to stop him. Young
+Nelli-gan had a special permission from Miss Mary hersel' and if it was na
+that he canna hit a haystack at twenty yards, there 'd no be a cock
+pheasant in the demesne! I think I 'm looking at her as she reads this,&rdquo;
+ said he, with a malicious grin. &ldquo;Ech, sirs, won't her great black eyebrows
+meet on her forehead, and her mouth be drawn in till never a bit of a red
+lip be seen! Is na that a chaise I see comin' up the road?&rdquo; cried he,
+suddenly. &ldquo;Look yonder!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I thought I saw something pass,&rdquo; said she, trying to strain her eyes
+through the tears that now rose to them.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;It's a post-chaise wi' twa trunks on the top. I wonder who's comin' in
+it?&rdquo; said Henderson, as he opened the sash-door, and stood awaiting the
+arrival. The chaise swept rapidly round the beech copse, and drew up
+before the door; the postilion, dismounting, lowered the steps, and
+assisted a lady to alight. She threw back her veil as she stood on the
+ground, and Kate Henderson, somewhat jaded-looking and pale from her
+journey, was before her father. A slight flush&mdash;very slight&mdash;rose
+to his face as he beheld her, and without uttering a word he turned and
+re-entered the house.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Ye are aboot to see a visitor, ma'am,&rdquo; said he to his wife; and, taking
+his hat, passed out of the room. Meanwhile Kate watched the postboy as he
+untied the luggage and deposited it at her side.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Did n't I rowl you along well, my Lady?&mdash;ten miles in little more
+than an hour,&rdquo; said he, pointing to his smoking cattle.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;More speed than we needed,&rdquo; said she, with a melancholy smile, while she
+placed some silver in his hand.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;What's this here, my Lady? It's like one of the owld tenpenny bits,&rdquo; said
+he, turning over and over a coin as he spoke.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;It's French money,&rdquo; said she, &ldquo;and unfortunately I have got none other
+left me.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Sure they'll give you what you want inside,&rdquo; said he, pointing towards
+the house.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;No, no; take this. It is a crown piece, and they'll surely change it for
+you in the town.&rdquo; And so saying, she turned towards the door. When she
+made one step towards it, however, she stopped. A painful irresolution
+seemed to possess her; but, recovering it, she turned the handle and
+entered.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;We did not know you were coming; at least, he never told me,&rdquo; said her
+stepmother, in a weak, broken voice, as she arose from her seat.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;There was no time to apprise you,&rdquo; said Kate, as she walked towards the
+fire and leaned her arm on the chimney-piece.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You came away suddenly, then? Had anything unpleasant&mdash;was there any
+reason&mdash;&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I had been desirous of leaving for some time back. Lady Dorothea only
+gave her consent on Tuesday last,&mdash;I think it was Tuesday; but my
+head is not very clear, for I am somewhat tired.&rdquo; There was an
+indescribable sadness in the way these simple words were uttered and in
+the sigh which followed them.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I 'm afraid he 'll not be pleased at it!&rdquo; said the other, timidly.
+</p>
+<p>
+Another sigh, but still weaker than the former, was Kate's only reply.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And how did you leave Mr. Martin? They tell us here that his case is
+hopeless,&rdquo; said Mrs. Henderson.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;He is very ill, indeed; the doctors give no hope of saving him. Is Miss
+Martin fully aware of his state?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Who can tell? We scarcely ever see her. You know that she never was very
+partial to your father, and latterly there has been a greater distance
+than ever between them. They differ about everything; and with that
+independent way he has&mdash;&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+A wide stare from Kate's full dark eyes, an expression of astonishment,
+mingled with raillery, in her features, here arrested the speaker, who
+blushed deeply in her embarrassment.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Go on,&rdquo; said Kate, gently. &ldquo;Pray continue, and let me hear what it is
+that his independence accomplishes.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Oh, dear!&rdquo; sighed the other. &ldquo;I see well you are not changed, Kate. You
+have come back with your old haughty spirit, and sure you know well, dear,
+that he 'll not bear it.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I 'll not impose any burden on his forbearance. A few days' shelter&mdash;a
+week or two at furthest&mdash;will not be, perhaps, too much to ask.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;So, then, you have a situation in view, Kate?&rdquo; asked she, more eagerly.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;The world is a tolerably wide one, and I 'm sure there is room for me
+somewhere, even without displacing another. But let us talk of anything
+else. How are the Nelligans? and Joe, what is he doing?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;The old people are just as you left them; but Mr. Joseph is a great man
+now,&mdash;dines with the Lord-Lieutenant, and goes into all the grand
+society of Dublin.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Is he spoiled by his elevation?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Your father thinks him haughtier than he used to be; but many say that he
+is exactly what he always was. Mrs. Nelligan comes up frequently to the
+cottage now, and dines with Miss Martin. I 'm sure I don't know how my
+Lady would like to see her there.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;She is not very likely,&rdquo; said Kate, dryly.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Why not?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I mean, that nothing is less probable than Lady Dorothea's return here.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I suppose not!&rdquo; half sighed Mrs. Henderson, for hers was one of those
+sorrowful temperaments that extract only the bitter from the cup of life.
+In reality, she had little reason to wish for Lady Dorothea's presence,
+but still she could make a &ldquo;very good grievance&rdquo; out of her absence, and
+find it a fitting theme for regret. &ldquo;What reason do you mean to give for
+your coming home, Kate, if he should ask you?&rdquo; inquired she, after a
+pause.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;That I felt dissatisfied with my place,&rdquo; replied Kate, coldly.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And we were always saying what a piece of good luck it was for you to be
+there! Miss Mary told Mrs. Nelligan&mdash;it was only the other day&mdash;that
+her uncle could n't live without you,&mdash;that you nursed him, and read
+to him, and what not; and as to her Ladyship, that she never took a drive
+in the carriage, or answered a note, without asking your advice first.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;What a profound impression Miss Martin must have received of my talents
+for intrigue!&rdquo; said Kate, sneeringly.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I believe not. I think she said something very kind and good-natured,
+just as if it was only people who had really very great gifts that could
+condescend to make themselves subservient without humiliation. I know she
+said 'without humiliation,' because your father laughed when he heard of
+it, and remarked, 'If it's Kate's humility they like, they are assuredly
+thankful for small mercies!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I should like to go over and see Miss Martin. What distance is it from
+this to the cottage?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;It's full three miles; but it's all through the demesne.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I'm a good walker, and I'll go,&rdquo; said she, rising. &ldquo;But first, might I
+ask for a little refreshment,&mdash;a cup of tea? Oh, I forgot,&rdquo; added
+she, smiling, &ldquo;tea is one of the forbidden luxuries here.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;No; but your father doesn't like to see it in the daytime. If you'd take
+it in your own room&mdash;&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Of course, and be most thankful. Am I to have the little room with the
+green paper, where I used to be, long ago?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Well, indeed, I can scarcely tell. The bed was taken down last autumn;
+and as we never thought of your coming home&mdash;&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Home!&rdquo; sighed Kate, involuntarily.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;But come into my room, and I 'll fetch you a cup of tea directly.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;No, no; it is better not to risk offending him,&rdquo; said Kate, calmly. &ldquo;I
+remember, now, that this was one of his antipathies. Give me anything
+else, for I have not eaten to-day.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+While her stepmother went in search of something to offer her, Kate sat
+down beside the fire, deep in thought. She had removed her bonnet, and her
+long silky hair fell in rich masses over her neck and shoulders, giving a
+more fixed expression to her features, which were of deathlike paleness.
+And so she sat, gazing intently on the fire, as though she were reading
+her very destiny in the red embers before her. Her preoccupation of mind
+was such that she never noticed the opening of the door, nor remarked that
+her father had entered. The noise of a chair being moved suddenly startled
+her. She looked up, and there he stood, his hat on his head and his arms
+closely folded on his breast, at the opposite side of the fire.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Well, lassie,&rdquo; said he, after a long and steady stare at her, &ldquo;ye hae
+left your place, or been turned oot o' it,&mdash;whilk is the case?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I came away of my own accord,&rdquo; said she, calmly.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And against my Leddy's wish?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;No, with her full consent.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And how did ye do it? for in her last letter to my sel', she says, 'I
+desire ye, therefore, to bear in mind that any step she takes on this
+head'&mdash;meaning about going away&mdash;'shall have been adopted in
+direct opposition to my wishes.' What has ye done since that?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I have succeeded in convincing her Ladyship that I was right in leaving
+her!&rdquo; said Kate.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Was it the force of your poleetical convictions that impelled ye to this
+course?&rdquo; said he, with a bitter grin, &ldquo;for they tell me ye are a rare
+champion o' the rights o' the people, and scruple not to denounce the
+upper classes, while ye eat their bread.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I denounce no one; nor, so far as I know myself, is ingratitude amongst
+my faults.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Maybe, if one were to tak' your ain narrative for it, ye hae nae faults
+worse than mere failings! But this is na telling me why ye left my Leddy.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Kate made no answer, but sat steadily watching the fire.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Ye wad rayther, mayhap, that I asked hersel' aboot it! Well, be it so.
+And noo comes anither point. Do ye think that if your conduct has in any
+way given displeasure to your mistress, or offended those in whose service
+ye were,&mdash;do ye think, I say, that ye hae the right to involve <i>me</i>
+in your shame and disgrace?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Do you mean,&rdquo; said she, calmly, &ldquo;that I had no right to come here?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;It 's just exactly what I mean; that if ye canna mak' friends for
+yoursel', ye ought not to turn away those whilk befriend your family.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;But what was I to have done, then?&rdquo; said she, gently. &ldquo;There were
+circumstances that required&mdash;imperatively required me&mdash;to leave
+Lady Dorothea&mdash;&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Let me hear them,&rdquo; said he, breaking in, &ldquo;It would lead me to speak of
+others than myself,&mdash;of events which are purely family matters,&mdash;were
+I to enter upon this theme. Besides,&rdquo; said she, rising, &ldquo;I am not, so far
+as I know, on my trial. There is not anything laid to my charge. I have no
+apologies to render.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+At this moment her stepmother appeared with a tray at the door, and seeing
+Henderson, endeavored to retire unobserved, but his quick eye had already
+detected her, and he cried out, &ldquo;Come here,&mdash;ye canna do too much
+honor to a young leddy who has such a vara profound esteem for hersel'!
+Cake and wine! my faith! No but ye 'll deem it vara vulgar fare, after the
+dainties ye hae been used to! And yet, lassie, these are nae the habits
+here!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;She has eaten nothing to-day!&rdquo; meekly observed her stepmother.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;My fayther wad hae askit her hoo much has she earned the day?&rdquo; said
+Henderson, severely.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You are quite right, sir,&rdquo; broke in Kate,&mdash;&ldquo;I have earned nothing.
+Not just yet,&rdquo; added she, as her stepmother pressed a glass of wine on her
+acceptance; &ldquo;a little later, perhaps. I have no appetite now.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Are ye sae stupid, ma'am, that ye canna see ye are dealin' wi' a fine
+leddy, wha is no obleeged to hae the same mind twa minutes thegither? Ye
+'ll hae to train wee Janet to be a' ready for whate'er caprice is
+uppermost. But mine me, lassie,&rdquo;&mdash;here he turned a look of stern
+meaning towards her,&mdash;&ldquo;ye hae tried for mony a lang day to subdue <i>me</i>
+to your whims and fancies, as they tell me ye hae done wi' sae mony
+others, and ye are just as far fra it noo as the first time ye tried it.
+Ye canna cheat nor cajole <i>me! I</i> know ye!&rdquo; And with these words,
+uttered in a tone of intense passion, he slowly walked out of the room.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Had he been angry with you?&mdash;had anything occurred before I came
+in?&rdquo; asked her stepmother.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Very little,&rdquo; sighed Kate, wearily. &ldquo;He was asking me why I came here, I
+believe. I could scarcely tell him; perhaps I don't very well know,
+myself.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;He can't get it out of his head,&rdquo; said the other, in a low, stealthy
+whisper, &ldquo;that, if you should leave Lady Dorothea, he will be turned away
+out of the stewardship. He is always saying it,&mdash;he repeats it even
+in his dreams. But for that, he 'd not have met you so&mdash;so&mdash;unkindly.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Kate pressed her hand affectionately, and smiled a thankful acknowledgment
+of this speech. &ldquo;And the cottage,&rdquo; said she, rallying suddenly, &ldquo;is about
+three miles off?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Not more. But you could scarcely walk there and back again. Besides, it
+is already growing late, and you have no chance of seeing Miss Mary if you
+'re not there by breakfast-time, since, when she comes home of an evening,
+she admits no one. She reads or studies, I believe, all the evening.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I think she'd see me,&rdquo; said Kate; &ldquo;I should have so much to tell her
+about her friends. I 'm sure she 'd see <i>me</i>,&mdash;at least, I'll
+try.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;But you'll eat something,&mdash;you 'll at least drink a glass of wine
+before you set out?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I do not like to refuse you,&rdquo; said Kate, smiling good-naturedly, &ldquo;but I
+could n't swallow now. I have a choking feeling here in my throat, like a
+heavy cold, that seems as though it would suffocate me. Good-bye, for a
+while. I shall be quite well, once I 'm in the open air. Good-bye!&rdquo; And,
+so saying, she wrapped her shawl around her, and motioning a farewell with
+her hand, set out on her errand.
+</p>
+<p>
+<a name="link2HCH0029" id="link2HCH0029">
+<!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+</p>
+<div style="height: 4em;">
+<br /><br /><br /><br />
+</div>
+<h2>
+CHAPTER XXIX. THE COTTAGE.
+</h2>
+<p>
+It was one of those fresh and breezy days where brilliant flashes of
+sunlight alternate with deep shadow, making of every landscape a
+succession of pictures, that Kate Henderson set out on her way to the
+cottage. Her path led through the demesne, but it was as wild as any
+forest scene in Germany, now wending through dark woods, now issuing forth
+over swelling lawns, from which the view extended many a mile away,&mdash;at
+one moment displaying the great rugged mountains of Connemara, and at
+another, the broad blue sea, heaving heavily, and thundering in sullen
+roar against the rocks.
+</p>
+<p>
+The fast-flitting clouds, the breezy grass, the wind-shaken foliage, and
+the white-crested waves, all were emblems of life; there was motion and
+sound and conflict! and yet to her heart, as she walked along, these
+influences imparted no sense of pleasure or relief. For a few seconds,
+perhaps, would she suddenly awake to the consciousness of the fair scene
+before her, and murmur to herself, perchance, the lines of some favorite
+poet; but in another moment her gloomy thoughtfulness was back again, and
+with bent-down head was she again moving onward. At times she walked
+rapidly forward, and then, relaxing her pace, she would stroll listlessly
+along, as though no object engaged her. And so was it in reality,&mdash;her
+main desire being to be free, in the open air; to be from beneath that
+roof whose shadow seemed to darken her very heart! Could that haughty
+spirit have humbled itself in sorrow, she might have found relief; but her
+proud nature had no such resource, and in her full heart injury and wrong
+had alone their place.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And this,&rdquo; burst she forth at length,&mdash;&ldquo;and this is Home! this the
+dreamland of those far away over the seas,&mdash;the cherished spot of all
+affections,&mdash;the quiet nook wherein we breathe an atmosphere of love,
+blending our lives with all dearest to us. Is it, then, that all is
+hollow, false, and untrue; or is it that I alone have no part in the
+happiness that is diffused around me? I know not which would be the
+sadder!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Thus, reasoning sadly, she went along, when suddenly, on the slope of a
+gentle hill in front of her, gracefully encircled with a young wood of
+larch and copper-beech, she caught sight of the cottage. It was a tasteful
+imitation of those seen in the Oberland, and with its wild background of
+lofty mountain, an appropriate ornament to the landscape.
+</p>
+<p>
+A small stream running over a rocky, broken bed formed the boundary of the
+little grounds, and over this a bridge of a single plank conducted the way
+to the cottage. The whole was simple and unpretending; there was none of
+that smart trimness which gives to such scenes the air of an imitation.
+The lawn, it is true, was neatly shaven, and the flower-plots, which broke
+its uniformity, clean from weeds; but the flowers were of the simplest
+kind,&mdash;the crocus and the daffodil had to stand no dangerous rivalry,
+and the hyacinth had nothing to vie with.
+</p>
+<p>
+Kate loitered for some time here, now gazing at the wild, stern landscape,
+now listening to the brawling rivulet, whose sounds were the only ones in
+the stillness. As she drew nigh the cottage, she found the windows of a
+little drawing-room open. She looked in: all was comfortable and
+neat-looking, but of the strictest simplicity. She next turned to the
+little porch, and pulled the bell; in a few seconds the sounds of feet
+were heard approaching, and a very old woman, whose appearance and dress
+were the perfection of neatness, appeared.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Don't you know me, Mrs. Broon?&rdquo; said Kate, gently.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I do not, then, my Lady,&rdquo; said she, respectfully, &ldquo;for my eyes is gettin'
+dimmer every day.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I 'm Kate Henderson, Mrs. Broon. Do you forget me?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Indeed I do not,&rdquo; said Catty, gravely. &ldquo;You were here with the master and
+my Lady?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yes. I went away with them to Germany; but I have come home for a while,
+and wish to pay my respects to Miss Mary.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;She isn't at home to-day,&rdquo; was the dry response.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;But she will return soon, I conclude. She'll be back some time in the
+evening, won't she?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;If she plazes it, she will. There's nobody to control or make her do but
+what she likes herself,&rdquo; said Catty.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I ask,&rdquo; said Kate, &ldquo;because I'm a little tired. I've come off a long
+journey, and if you'd allow me to rest myself, and wait awhile in the hope
+of seeing Miss Martin, I'd be very thankful.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Come in, then,&rdquo; said Catty; but the faint sigh with which the words were
+uttered, gave but a scant significance of welcome.
+</p>
+<p>
+Kate followed her into the little drawing-room, and at a sign from the old
+woman, took a seat.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Miss Mary is quite well, I'm glad to hear,&rdquo; said Kate, endeavoring to
+introduce some conversation.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Will they ever come back?&rdquo; asked the old woman, in a stern, harsh voice,
+while she paid no attention whatever to Kate's remark.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;It is very unlikely,&rdquo; said Kate. &ldquo;Your poor master had not long to live
+when I came away. He was sinking rapidly.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;So I heard,&rdquo; muttered the other, dryly; &ldquo;the last letter from Mr. Repton
+said 'he was n't expected.'&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I fear it will be a great shock to Miss Mary,&rdquo; said Kate.
+</p>
+<p>
+The old woman nodded her head slowly several times without speaking.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And, perhaps, cause great changes here?&rdquo; continued Kate.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;There's changes enough, and too many already,&rdquo; muttered Catty. &ldquo;I
+remember the place upwards of eighty years. I was born in the little house
+to the right of the road as you come up from Kelly's mills. There was no
+mill there then, nor a school-house, no, nor a dispensary either! Musha,
+but the people was better off, and happier, when they had none of them.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Kate smiled at the energy with which these words were uttered, surmising,
+rightfully, that Catty's condemnation of progress had a direct application
+to herself.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Now it's all readin' and writin', teachin' honest people to be rogues,
+and givin' them new contrivances to cheat their masters. When I knew Cro'
+Martin first,&rdquo; added she, almost fiercely, &ldquo;there was n't a Scotch steward
+on the estate; but there was nobody turned out of his houldin', and there
+was n't a cabin unroofed to make the people seek shelter under a ditch.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;The world would then seem growing worse every day,&rdquo; remarked Kate,
+quietly.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;To be sure it is. Why would n't it? Money is in every one's heart. Nobody
+cares for his own flesh and blood. 'T is all money! What will I get if I
+take that farm over another man's head, or marry that girl that likes
+somebody better than me? 'Tis to be rich they're all strivin', and the
+devil never made people his own children so completely as by teachin' them
+to love goold!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Your young mistress has but little of this spirit in her heart?&rdquo; said
+Kate.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Signs on it! look at the life she leads: up before daybreak, and away
+many times before I 'm awake. She makes a cup of coffee herself, and
+saddles the pony, too, if Patsey is n't there to do it; and she 's off to
+Glentocher, or Knock-mullen, twelve, fourteen miles down the coast, with
+barley for one, and a bottle of wine for the other. Sometimes she has a
+basket with her, just a load to carry, with tay and shugar; ay, and&mdash;for
+she forgets nothing&mdash;toys for the children, too, and clothes, and
+even books. And then to see herself, she 's not as well dressed as her own
+maid used to be. There 's not a night she does n't sit up patchin' and
+piecin' her clothes. 'T is Billy at the cross-roads made her shoes last
+time for her, just because he was starvin' with nothing' to do. She
+ordered them, and she wears them, too; it makes him so proud, she says, to
+see them. And this is the niece of the Martins of Cro' Martin! without one
+of her kith or kin to welcome her home at nightfall,&mdash;without father
+or mother, brother or sister,&mdash;without a kind voice to say 'God bless
+her,' as she falls off to sleep many a time in that big chair there; and I
+take off her shoes without her knowin' it, she does be so weary and tired;
+and in her dhrames it 's always talking to the people, givin' them
+courage, and cheerin' them up, tellin' them there 's good times for every
+one; and once, the other evenin', she sang a bit of a song, thinkin' she
+was in Mat Leahy's cabin amusin' the children, and she woke up laughin',
+and said, 'Catty, I 've had such a pleasant dhrame. I thought I had little
+Nora, my godchild, on my knee, and was teachin' her &ldquo;Why are the daisies
+in the grass?&rdquo; I can't tell you how happy I felt!' There it was: the only
+thing like company to her poor heart was a dhrame!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I do not wonder that you love her, Catty,&rdquo; said Kate; and the words fell
+tremulously from her lips.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Love her! what's the use of such as me lovin' her?&rdquo; cried the old woman,
+querulously. &ldquo;Sure, it's not one of my kind knows how good she is! If you
+only seen her comin' in here, after dark, maybe, wet and weary and
+footsore, half famished with cold and hunger,&mdash;out the whole livelong
+day, over the mountains, where there was fever and shakin' ague, and
+starvin' people, ravin' mad between disease and destitution; and the first
+word out of her mouth will be, 'Oh, Catty, how grateful you and I ought to
+be with our warm roof over us, and our snug fire to sit at,' never
+thinkin' of who she is and what she has the right to, but just makin'
+herself the same as <i>me</i>. And then she 'd tell me where she was, and
+what she seen, and how well the people was bearin' up under their trials,&mdash;all
+the things they said to her, for they 'd tell her things they would n't
+tell the priest. 'Catty,' said she, t' other night, 'it looks like
+heartlessness in me to be in such high spirits in the midst of all this
+misery here; but I feel as if my courage was a well that others were
+drinking out of; and when I go into a cabin, the sick man, as he turns his
+head round, looks happier, and I feel as if it was my spirit that was
+warmin' and cheerin' him; and when a poor sick sufferin' child looks up at
+me and smiles, I 'm ready to drop on my knees and thank God in
+gratitude.'&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Kate covered her face with her hands, and never spoke; and now the old
+woman, warming with the theme she loved best, went on to tell various
+incidents and events of Mary's life,&mdash;the perilous accidents which
+befell her, the dangers she braved, the fatigues she encountered. Even
+recounted by <i>her</i>, there was a strange adventurous character that
+ran through these recitals, showing that Mary Martin, in all she thought
+and said and acted, was buoyed and sustained by a sort of native chivalry
+that made her actually court the incidents where she incurred the greatest
+hazard. It was plain to see what charm such traits possessed for her who
+recorded them, and how in her old Celtic blood ran the strong current of
+delight in all that pertained to the adventurous and the wild.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;'Tis her own father's nature is strong in her,&rdquo; said Catty, with
+enthusiasm. &ldquo;Show him the horse that nobody could back, tell him of a
+storm where no fisherman would launch his boat, point out a cliff that no
+man could climb, and let me see who 'd hould him! She 's so like him, that
+when there 's anything daring to be done you would n't know her voice from
+his own. There, now, I hear her without,&rdquo; cried the old woman, as, rising
+suddenly, she approached the window. &ldquo;Don't you hear something?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Nothing but the wind through the trees,&rdquo; said Kate.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Ay, but <i>I</i> did, and my ears are older than yours. She's riding
+through the river now; I hear the water splashin'.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Kate tried to catch the sounds, but could not; she walked out upon the
+lawn to listen, but except the brawling of the stream among the rocks,
+there was nothing to be heard.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;D' ye see her comin'?&rdquo; asked Catty, eagerly.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;No. Your ears must have deceived you. There is no one coming.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I heard her voice, as I hear yours now. I heard her spake to the mare, as
+she always does when she 's plungin' into the river. There, now, don't you
+hear that?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I hear nothing, I assure you, my dear Mrs. Broon. It is your own anxiety
+that is misleading you; but if you like, I 'll go down towards the river
+and see.&rdquo; And without waiting for a reply Kate hastened down the slope. As
+she went, she could not help reflecting over the superstition which
+attaches so much importance to these delusions, giving them the character
+of actual warnings. It was doubtless from the mind dwelling so forcibly on
+Miss Martin's perilous life that the old woman's apprehensions had assumed
+this palpable form, and thus invented the very images which should react
+upon her with terror.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Just as I thought,&rdquo; cried Kate, as she stood on the bank of the stream;
+&ldquo;all silent and deserted, no one within sight.&rdquo; And slowly she retraced
+her steps towards the cottage. The old woman stood at the door, pale and
+trembling; an attempt to smile was on her features, but her heart denied
+the courage of the effort.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Where is she now?&rdquo; cried Catty, wildly. &ldquo;She rang the bell this minute,
+and I heerd the mare trottin' round to the stable by herself, as she
+always does. But where 's Miss Mary?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;My dear Mrs. Broon,&rdquo; said Kate, in her kindest accents, &ldquo;it is just as I
+told you. Your mind is anxious and uneasy about Miss Martin; you are
+unhappy at her absence, and you think at every stir you hear her coming;
+but I have been to the river-side, and there is no one there. I 'll go
+round to the stables, if you wish it.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;There 's no tracks of a hoof on the gravel,&rdquo; muttered the old woman, in a
+broken voice; &ldquo;there was nobody here!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;So I said,&rdquo; replied Kate. &ldquo;It was a mere delusion,&mdash;a fancy.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;A delusion,&mdash;a fancy!&rdquo; cried Catty, scornfully; &ldquo;that's the way they
+always spake of whatever they don't understand. It's easier to say that
+than confess you don't see how to explain a thing; but I heerd the same
+sounds before you came to-day; ay, and I went down to see why she was n't
+comin', and at the pool there was bubbles and froth on the water, just as
+if a baste had passed through, but no livin' thing to be seen. Was n't
+that a delusion, too?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;An accident, perchance. Only think, what lives of misery we should lead
+were we ever tracing our own fears, and connecting them with all the
+changes that go on around us!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;It's two days she's away, now,&rdquo; muttered the old woman, who only heeded
+her own thoughts; &ldquo;she was to be back last night, or early this mornin'.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Where had she gone to?&rdquo; asked Kate, who now saw that the other had lapsed
+into confidence.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;She's gone to the islands!&mdash;to Innishmore, and maybe, on to
+Brannock!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;That's a long way out to sea,&rdquo; said Kate, thoughtfully; &ldquo;but still, the
+weather is fine, and the day favorable. Had she any other object than
+pleasure in this excursion?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Pleasure is it?&rdquo; croaked Catty. &ldquo;'Tis much pleasure she does be given
+herself! Her pleasure is to be where there 's fever and want,&mdash;in the
+lonely cabin, where the sick is lyin'! It 's to find a poor crayture that
+run away from home she 's gone now,&mdash;one Joan Landy. She's missin'
+this two months, and nobody knows where she 's gone to! and Miss Mary got
+so uneasy at last that she could n't sleep by night nor rest by day,&mdash;always
+talkin' about her, and say in' as much as it was all her fault; as if <i>she</i>
+could know why she went, or where?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Did she go alone on this errand, then?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;To be sure she did. Who could she have with her? She towld Loony she 'd
+want the boat with four men in it, and maybe to stay out three days, for
+she 'd go to all the islands before she came back.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Loony 's the best sailor on the coast, I 've heard; and with such weather
+as this there is no cause for alarm.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Catty did not seem to heed the remark; she felt that within her against
+which the words of consolation availed but little, and she sat brooding
+sorrowfully and in silence.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;The night will soon be fallin' now,&rdquo; said she, at last. &ldquo;I hope she's not
+at sea!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+In spite of herself, Kate Henderson caught the contagion of the old
+woman's terrors, and felt a dreamy, undefined dread of coming evil. As she
+looked out, however, at the calm and fair landscape, which, as day
+declined, grew each moment more still, she rallied from the gloomy
+thoughts, and said,&mdash;&ldquo;I wish I knew how to be of any service to you,
+Mrs. Broon. If you could think of anything I could do&mdash;anywhere I
+could go&mdash;&rdquo; She stopped suddenly at a gesture from the old woman,
+who, lifting her hand to impress silence, stood a perfect picture of eager
+anxiety to hear. Bending down her head, old Catty stood for several
+seconds motionless.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Don't ye hear it now?&rdquo; broke she in. &ldquo;Listen! I thought I heerd something
+like a wailin' sound far off, but it is the wind. See how the tree-tops
+are bendin'!&mdash;That's three times I heerd it now,&rdquo; said Catty. &ldquo;If ye
+live to be as old as me, you 'll not think light of a warnin'. You think
+your hearin' better because you're younger; but I tell you that there 's
+sounds that only reach ears that are goin' to where the voices came from.
+When eyes grow dim to sights of this world, they are strainin' to catch a
+glimpse of them that's beyond it.&rdquo; Although no tears rose to her eyes, the
+withered face trembled in her agony, and her clasped hands shook in the
+suffering of her sorrow.
+</p>
+<p>
+Against impressions of this sort, Kate knew well enough how little
+reasoning availed, and she forbore to press arguments which she was aware
+would be unsuccessful. She tried, however, to turn the current of the old
+woman's thoughts, by leading her to speak of the condition of the country
+and the state of the people. Catty gave short, abrupt, and unwilling
+answers to all she asked, and Kate at length arose to take her leave.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You're goin' away, are ye?&rdquo; said Catty, half angrily.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I have only just remembered that I have a long way to walk, and it is
+already growing late.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Ay, and ye 're impatient to be back again, at home, beside your own fire,
+with your own people. But <i>she</i> has no home, and her own has deserted
+her!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Mine has not many charms for me!&rdquo; muttered Kate to herself.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;It's happy for you that has father and mother,&rdquo; went on the old woman.
+&ldquo;Them 's the only ones, after all!&mdash;the only ones that never loves
+the less, the less we desarve it! I don't wonder ye came back again!&rdquo; And
+in a sort of envious bitterness Catty wished her a good-night.
+</p>
+<p>
+If the distance she had to walk was not shortened by the tenor of her
+thoughts, as little did she feel impatient to press onward. Dreary and sad
+enough were her reveries. Of the wild visionary ambitions which once had
+stirred her heart, there remained nothing but disappointments. She had but
+passed the threshold of life to find all dreary and desolate; but perhaps
+the most painful feeling of the moment was the fact that now pressed
+conviction on her, and told that in the humble career of such a one as
+Mary Martin there lay a nobler heroism and a higher devotion than in the
+most soaring path of political ambition, and that all the theorizing as to
+popular rights made but a sorry figure beside the actual benefits
+conferred by one true-hearted lover of her kind. &ldquo;She is right, and I am
+wrong!&rdquo; muttered she to herself. &ldquo;In declining to entertain questions of
+statecraft she showed herself above, and not beneath, the proud position
+she had taken. The very lowliness of this task is its glory. Oh, if I
+could but win her confidence and be associated in such a labor! and yet my
+very birth denies me the prestige that hers confers.&rdquo; And then she thought
+of home, and all the coldness of that cheerless greeting smote upon her
+heart.
+</p>
+<p>
+The moon was up ere Kate arrived at her father's door. She tapped at it
+gently, almost timidly. Her stepmother, as if expecting her, came quickly,
+and in a low, cautious whisper told her that she would find her supper
+ready in her bedroom.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;To-morrow, perhaps, he may be in better humor or better spirits.
+Good-night.&rdquo; And so Kate silently stole along to her room, her proud heart
+swelling painfully, and her tearless eye burning with all the heat of a
+burning brain.
+</p>
+<p>
+<a name="link2HCH0030" id="link2HCH0030">
+<!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+</p>
+<div style="height: 4em;">
+<br /><br /><br /><br />
+</div>
+<h2>
+CHAPTER XXX. &ldquo;A TEA-PARTY&rdquo; AT MRS. CRONAN'S
+</h2>
+<p>
+Once more, but for the last time, we are at Kilkieran. To a dreary day of
+incessant rain succeeded an evening still drearier. Wild gusts swept along
+the little shore, and shook the frail windows and ill-fitting doors of the
+cottages, while foam and sea-drift were wafted over the roofs, settling
+like snow-flakes on the tall cliffs above them. And yet it was midsummer!
+By the almanac the time was vouched to be the opening of the season; a
+fact amply corroborated by the fashionable assemblage then enjoying the
+hospitalities of Mrs. Cronan's tea-table. There they were, with a single
+exception, the same goodly company already presented to the reader in an
+early chapter of our story. We have already mentioned the great changes
+which time had worked in the appearance of the little watering-place. The
+fostering care of proprietorship withdrawn, the ornamental villa of the
+Martins converted into a miserable village inn, the works of the pier and
+harbor suspended, and presenting in their unfinished aspect the dreary
+semblance of ruin and decay,&mdash;all conspired with the falling fortunes
+of the people to make the scene a sad one. Little evidence of this
+decline, however, could be traced in the aspect of that pleasant
+gathering, animated with all its ancient taste for whist, scandal, and
+shrimps; their appetite for such luxuries seeming rather to have increased
+than diminished by years. Not that we presume to say they could claim any
+immunity against the irrevocable decrees of age. Unhappily, the confession
+may be deemed not exactly in accordance with gallantry; but it is strictly
+true, time had no more forgotten the living than the inanimate accessories
+of the picture. Miss Busk, of the Emporium, had grown more sour and more
+stately. The vinegar of her temperament was verging upon verjuice, and the
+ill opinion of mankind experience enforced had written itself very legibly
+on her features. The world had not improved upon her by acquaintance. Not
+so Captain Bodkin; fatter and more wheezy than ever, he seemed to relish
+life rather more than when younger. He had given up, too, that long
+struggle with himself about bathing, and making up his mind to suffer no
+&ldquo;sea-change;&rdquo; he was, therefore, more cheerful than before.
+</p>
+<p>
+As for Mrs. Cronan, &ldquo;the little comforts she was used to&rdquo; had sorely
+diminished by the pressure of the times, and, in consequence, she drew
+unlimited drafts upon the past to fill up the deficiencies of the present.
+Strange enough is it, that the faults and follies of society are just as
+adhesive ingredients as its higher qualities! These people had grown so
+used to each other in all their eccentric ways and oddities, that they had
+become fond of them; like a pilot long accustomed to rocks and sandbanks,
+they could only steer their course where there was something to avoid!
+</p>
+<p>
+The remainder of the goodly company had grown stouter or thinner, jollier
+or more peevish, as temperament inclined; for it is with human nature as
+with wine: if the liquor does not get racier with years, it degenerates
+sadly.
+</p>
+<p>
+The first act of the whist and backgammon playing was over, and the party
+now sat, stood, crouched, lounged, or lay, as chance and the state of the
+furniture permitted, at supper. At the grand table, of course, were the
+higher dignitaries, such as Father Maher, the Captain, Miss Busk, and Mrs.
+Clinch; but cockles were eaten, and punch discussed in various very odd
+quarters; bursts of joyous laughter, too, came from dark pantries, and
+sounds of merriment mingled with the jangling crash of kitchen utensils.
+Reputations were roasted and pancakes fried, characters and chickens alike
+mangled, and all the hubbub of a festival prevailed in a scene where the
+efforts of the fair hostess were directed to produce an air of unblemished
+elegance and gentility.
+</p>
+<p>
+Poor Clinch, the revenue officer, who invariably eat what he called &ldquo;his
+bit&rdquo; in some obscure quarter, alone and companionless, was twice &ldquo;had up&rdquo;
+ before the authorities for the row and uproar that prevailed, and
+underwent a severe cross-examination, &ldquo;as to where he was when Miss
+Cullenane was making the salad,&rdquo; and, indeed, cut a very sorry figure at
+the conclusion of the inquiry. All the gayeties and gravities of the
+scene, however, gradually toned down as the serious debate of the evening
+came on; which was no other than the lamentable condition of the prospects
+of Kilkieran, and the unanimous opinion of the ruinous consequences that
+must ensue from the absence of the proprietor.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;We 've little chance of getting up the news-room now,&rdquo; said the Captain.
+&ldquo;The Martins won't give a sixpence for anything.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;It is something to give trade an impulse we want, sir,&rdquo; broke in Miss
+Busk,&mdash;&ldquo;balls and assemblies; evening reunions of the <i>élite</i> of
+society, where the elegance of the toilet should rival the <i>distingué</i>
+air of the company.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;That's word for word out of the 'Intelligence,'&rdquo; cried the Captain. &ldquo;It's
+unparliamentary to quote the newspapers.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I detest the newspapers,&rdquo; broke in Miss Busk, angrily; &ldquo;after advertising
+the Emporium for two seasons in the 'Galway Celt,' they gave me a leading
+article beginning, 'As the hot weather is now commencing, and the season
+for fashion approaches, we cannot better serve the interests of our
+readers than by directing attention to the elegant &ldquo;Symposium!&rdquo;'
+'Symposium!'&mdash;I give you my word of honor that's what they put it.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;On my conscience! it might have been worse,&rdquo; chuckled out the Captain.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;It was young Nelligan explained to me what it was,&rdquo; resumed Miss Busk;
+&ldquo;and Scanlan said, 'I'd have an action against them for damages.'&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Keep out of law, my dear!&mdash;keep out of law!&rdquo; sighed Mrs. Cronan.
+&ldquo;See to what it has reduced me! I, that used to go out in my own coach,
+with two men in green and gold; that had my house in town, and my house in
+the country; that had gems and ornaments such as a queen might wear! And
+there's all that's left me now!&rdquo; And she pointed to a brooch about the
+size of a cheese-plate, where a melancholy gentleman in uniform was
+represented, with a border of mock pearls around him. &ldquo;The last pledge of
+affection!&rdquo; sobbed she.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Of course you wouldn't pledge it, my dear,&rdquo; muttered the deaf old Mrs.
+Few; &ldquo;and they'd give you next to nothing on it, besides.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+<a name="linkimage-0013" id="linkimage-0013">
+<!-- IMG --></a>
+</p>
+<div class="fig" style="width:80%;">
+<img src="images/324.jpg" width="100%" alt="324 " />
+</div>
+<p>
+&ldquo;We 'll have law enough here soon, it seems,&rdquo; said Mrs. Cronan, angrily;
+for the laugh this blunder excited was by no means flattering and
+pleasant. &ldquo;There 's Magennis's action first for trial at the Assizes.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;That will be worth hearing,&rdquo; said Mrs. Clinch. &ldquo;They 'll have the first
+lawyers from Dublin on each side.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Did you hear the trick they played off on Joe Nelligan about it?&rdquo; asked
+the Captain. &ldquo;It was cleverly done. Magennis found out, some way or other,
+that Joe wanted to be engaged against him; and so what does he do but gets
+a servant dressed up in the Martin livery, and sends him to Joe's house on
+the box of a coach, inside of which was a gentleman that begged a word
+with the Counsellor. 'You 're not engaged, I hope, Counsellor Nelligan,'
+says he, 'in Magennis against Martin?' 'No,' says Joe, for he caught a
+glimpse of the livery. 'You're quite free?' says the other. 'Quite free,'
+says he. 'That's all I want, then,' says he; 'here's your brief, and
+here's your retainer;' and he put both down on the table, and when Joe
+looked down he saw he was booked for Magennis. You may imagine how he
+felt; but he never uttered a word, for there was no help for it.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And do you mean to tell me,&rdquo; cried Mrs. Clinch, &ldquo;that the lawyers can't
+help themselves, but must just talk and rant and swear for any one that
+asks them first?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;It's exactly what I mean, ma'am,&rdquo; responded the Captain. &ldquo;They 've no
+more choice in the matter than the hangman has as to who be 'll hang.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Then I'd as soon be a gauger!&rdquo; exclaimed the lady, with a contemptuous
+glance at poor Clinch, who winced under the observation.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;But I don't see what they wanted young Nelligan for,&rdquo; said Miss Busk;
+&ldquo;what experience or knowledge has <i>he?</i>&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;He's just the first man of the day,&rdquo; said Bodkin. &ldquo;They tell me that
+whether it be to crook out a flaw in the enemy's case, to pick a hole in a
+statement, to crush a witness, or cajole the jury, old Repton himself is
+n't his equal.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I suppose, from the airs he gives himself, he must be something
+wonderful,&rdquo; said Mrs. Cronan.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Well, now, I differ from you there, ma'am,&rdquo; replied Bodkin. &ldquo;I think Joe
+is just what he always was. He was cold, silent, and distant as a boy, and
+he 's the same as a man. Look at him when he comes down here at the
+Assizes, down to the town where his father is selling glue and hides and
+tenpenny-nails, and he 's just as easy and unconstrained as if the old man
+was Lord of Cro' Martin Castle.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;That's the height of impertinence,&rdquo; broke in Miss Busk; &ldquo;it's only real
+blood has any right to rise above the depreciating accidents of condition.
+I know it by myself.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Well, I wonder what he 'll make of this case, anyhow,&rdquo; said feodkin, to
+escape a controversy he had no fancy for. &ldquo;They tell me that no action can
+lie on it. It's not abduction&mdash;&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;For shame, Captain; you forget there are ladies here,&rdquo; said Mrs. Clinch.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Indeed I don't,&rdquo; sighed he, with a half-comic melancholy in his look.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I'll tell you how they do it, sir,&rdquo; chimed in Father Maher. &ldquo;Whenever
+there 's anything in law that never was foreseen or provided for, against
+which there is neither act nor statute, they 've one grand and unfailing
+resource,&mdash;they charge it as a conspiracy. I 've a brother an
+attorney, and he tells me that there is n't a man, woman, or child in the
+kingdom but could be indicted for doing something by a conspiracy.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;It's a great comfort to know that,&rdquo; said Bodkin, gravely.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And what can they do to her if she's found guilty?&rdquo; asked Mrs. Cronan.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Make her smart for the damages, ma'am; leave her something less to expend
+on perversion and interference with the people,&rdquo; said the priest. &ldquo;The
+parish isn't the same since she began visiting this one and reading to
+that. Instead of respect and confidence in their spiritual guides, the
+people are running after a young girl with a head full of wild schemes and
+contrivances. We all know by this time how these things end, and the best
+receipt to make a Protestant begins, 'First starve your Papist.'&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I rise to order,&rdquo; called out Bodkin. &ldquo;We agreed we'd have no polemics nor
+party discussions.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Why am I appealed to, then, for explanations that involve them?&rdquo; cried
+the priest, angrily. &ldquo;I'm supported, too, in my observations by a witness
+none will dispute,&mdash;that Scotchman, Henderson&mdash;&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;By the way, isn't his daughter come home to him?&rdquo; asked Bodkin, eager for
+a diversion.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Indeed she is, sir; and a pretty story there is about it, too. Miss Busk
+knows it all,&rdquo; said Mrs. Cronan.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I have it in confidence, ma'am, from Jemima Davis,&mdash;Lady Dorothea's
+second maid; but I don't think it a fit subject for public conversation.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And ain't we in committee here?&rdquo; chimed in Bodkin; &ldquo;have we any secrets
+from each other?&rdquo; The racy laugh of the old fellow, as he threw a knowing
+glance around the table, rather disconcerted the company. &ldquo;Let's hear
+about Henderson's daughter.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;The story is soon told, sir. Lady Dorothea detected her endeavoring to
+draw young Martin into a private marriage. The artful creature, by some
+means or other, had obtained such an insight into the young man's
+difficulties that she actually terrorized over his weak mind. She
+discovered, too, it is suspected, something rather more than indiscretions
+on his part.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+A long low whistle from the priest seemed to impart a kind of gratified
+surprise at this announcement.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;He had got into a habit of signing his name, they say; and whether he
+signed it to something he had no right to, or signed another name by
+mistake&mdash;&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Oh, for shame,&rdquo; broke in Bodkin; &ldquo;that wouldn't be one bit like a
+Martin.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Perhaps you are acquainted with all the circumstances better than myself,
+sir?&rdquo; said Miss Busk, bristling up with anger. &ldquo;Maybe you 've heard how
+the Henderson girl was turned away out of the French duke's family,&mdash;how
+she was found in correspondence with the leaders of the mob in Paris?
+Maybe, sir, you are aware that she has some mysterious hold over her
+father, and he dares not gainsay one word she says?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I don't know one word of it; and if it wasn't thought rude, I'd say I
+don't believe it, either,&rdquo; said Bodkin, stoutly.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I believe the worst that could be said of her,&rdquo; said Mrs. Clinch.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Well, well, make her as bad as you like; but how does that prove anything
+against young Martin? and if you can find nothing heavier to say of him
+than that he wanted to marry a very handsome girl&mdash;&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;A low creature!&rdquo; broke in Miss Busk.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;The lowest of the low!&rdquo; chimed in Mrs. Cronan.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;An impudent, upsetting minx!&rdquo; added Mrs. Clinch. &ldquo;Nothing would serve her
+but a post-chaise the morning she arrived by the mail for Dublin; and,
+signs on it, when she got home she had n't money to pay for it.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;It was n't that she left her place empty-handed, then,&rdquo; said Miss Busk.
+&ldquo;Jemima tells me that she managed the whole house,&mdash;paid for
+everything; and we all know what comes of that.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Miss Busk, in delivering this sentiment, was seated with her back to the
+door, towards which suddenly every eye was now turned in mingled
+astonishment and confusion; she moved round to see the cause, and there
+beheld the very object of her commentary standing close behind her chair.
+Closely wrapped in a large cloak, the hood of which she wore over her
+head, her tall figure looked taller and more imposing in its motionless
+attitude.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I have to ask pardon for this intrusion, ladies,&rdquo; said she, calmly; &ldquo;but
+you will forgive me when I tell the reason of it. I have just received
+very sad tidings, which ought to be conveyed to Miss Martin; she is at the
+islands, and I have no means of following her, unless Mr. Clinch will
+kindly lend me the revenue boat&mdash;&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And accompany you, I hope,&rdquo; broke in Mrs. Clinch, with a sneer.
+</p>
+<p>
+Kate did not notice the taunting remark, but went on, &ldquo;You will be grieved
+to hear that Mr. Martin is no more.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Martin dead!&rdquo; muttered the Captain.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Dead! When did he die?&rdquo; &ldquo;Where did it happen?&rdquo; &ldquo;How?&rdquo; &ldquo;Of what malady?&rdquo;
+ &ldquo;Are his remains coming home?&rdquo; were asked in quick succession by several
+voices.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;This letter will tell you all that I know myself,&rdquo; said she, laying it on
+the table. &ldquo;May I venture to hope Mr. Clinch will so far oblige me? The
+fishermen say the sea is too rough for their craft.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;It's not exactly on the King's service, I opine, ma'am,&rdquo; broke in Mrs.
+Clinch; &ldquo;but of course he is too gallant to oppose your wishes.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Faith! if you wanted any one with you, and would accept of myself,&rdquo; broke
+in Bodkin, &ldquo;I'm ready this minute; not that exactly salt water is my
+element.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;The young lady is accustomed to travel alone, or she is much belied,&rdquo;
+ said Miss Busk, with a sneer.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I suppose you'd better let her have the boat, Clinch,&rdquo; said his wife, in
+a whisper. &ldquo;There's no knowing what might come of it if you refused.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I 'll go down and muster the crew for you, Miss Henderson,&rdquo; said Clinch,
+not sorry to escape, although the exchange was from a warm cabin to the
+beating rain without.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Poor Martin!&rdquo; sighed Bodkin; &ldquo;he was the first of the family for many a
+long year that did n't breathe his last under his own roof. I 'm sure it
+weighed heavily on him.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I trust his son will follow his example, nevertheless,&rdquo; said the priest.
+&ldquo;I don't want to see one of the name amongst us.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You might have worse, Father Maher,&rdquo; said Bodkin, angrily.
+</p>
+<p>
+And now a lively discussion ensued as to the merits of him they had lost,
+for the most part with more of charity than many of their dissertations;
+from this they branched off into speculations about the future. Would the
+&ldquo;present man&rdquo; reside at home? would her Ladyship come back? what would be
+Mary's position? how would Scanlan fare? what of Henderson, too? In fact,
+casualties of every kind were debated, and difficulties started, that they
+might be as readily reconciled. Meanwhile Kate was hastening down to the
+shore, followed, rather than escorted, by little Clinch, who even in the
+darkness felt that the conjugal eye was upon him.
+</p>
+<p>
+<a name="link2HCH0031" id="link2HCH0031">
+<!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+</p>
+<div style="height: 4em;">
+<br /><br /><br /><br />
+</div>
+<h2>
+CHAPTER XXXI. THE BRANNOCK ISLANDS
+</h2>
+<p>
+A little to the northwest of the island of Innishmore are scattered a
+number of small islets, some scarcely more than barren rocks, called the
+Brannocks. One of these alone was inhabited, and that by a single family.
+No isolation could be more complete than that of these poor people, who
+thus dwelt amid the wide waste of waters, never seeing the face of a
+stranger, and only at long intervals visiting the mainland. Indeed the
+only intercourse they could be said to maintain with their fellow-men was
+when by chance they fell in with some homeward-bound ship at sea, and sold
+the little produce of their nets; for they lived by fishing, and had no
+other subsistence.
+</p>
+<p>
+The largest of these islands was called &ldquo;Brannock-buoy,&rdquo; or the Yellow
+Brannock, from the flower of a kind of crocus which grew profusely over
+it. It was a wild, desolate spot, scarcely rising above the waves around
+it, save in one quarter, where a massive column of rock rose to the height
+of several hundred feet, and formed the only shelter against the swooping
+wind, which came without break or hindrance from the far-away shores of
+Labrador. At the foot of this strong barrier&mdash;so small and
+insignificant as to escape notice from the sea&mdash;stood the little
+cabin of Owen Joyce. Built in a circular form, the chimney in the middle,
+the rude structure resembled some wigwam of the prairies rather than the
+home of civilized beings.
+</p>
+<p>
+Certain low partitions within subdivided the space into different
+chambers, making the centre the common apartment of the family, where they
+cooked and ate and chatted; for, with all their poverty and privation,
+theirs was a life not devoid of its own happiness, nor did they believe
+that their lot was one to repine at.
+</p>
+<p>
+Seasons of unprofitable labor, years of more or less pressure, they had
+indeed experienced, but actual want had never visited them; sickness, too,
+was almost as rare. Owen Joyce was, at the time we speak of, upwards of
+eighty; and although his hair was white as snow, his cheek was ruddy, his
+white teeth were perfect, and his eye&mdash;like that of Moses&mdash;&ldquo;was
+not dim.&rdquo; Surrounded by his children and grandchildren, the old man lived
+happy and contented, his daily teaching being to impress upon them the
+blessings they derived from a life so sheltered from all the accidents of
+fortune; to have, as he called the island, &ldquo;the little craft all their
+own.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+The traits of race and family, the limited range of their intercourse with
+the world, served to make them all wonderfully alike, not only in feature
+but expression; so that even the youngest child had something of the calm,
+steadfast look which characterized the old man. The jet-black hair and
+eyes and the swarthy skin seemed to indicate a Spanish origin, and gave
+them a type perfectly distinctive and peculiar.
+</p>
+<p>
+In the midst of them moved one who, though dressed in the light-blue
+woollen kirtle, the favorite costume of the islands, bore in her fresh
+bright features the traces of a different blood; her deep blue eye, soft
+and almost sleepy, her full, well-curved lips, were strong contrasts to
+the traits around her. The most passing glance would have detected that
+she was not &ldquo;one of them,&rdquo; nor had she been long an inmate of this
+dwelling.
+</p>
+<p>
+It chanced that some short time before, one of Joyce's sons, in boarding
+an outward-bound American ship, had heard of a young countrywoman who,
+having taken her passage for New York, no sooner found herself at sea&mdash;parted,
+as she deemed it, forever from home and country&mdash;than she gave way to
+the most violent grief; so poignant, indeed, was her sorrow that the
+captain compassionately offered to relinquish her passage-money if Joyce
+would take charge of her, and re-land her on the shores of Ireland. The
+offer was accepted, and the same evening saw her safely deposited on the
+rocky island of Brannock. Partly in gratitude to her deliverer, partly in
+the indulgence of a secret wish, she asked leave to remain with them and
+be their servant; the compact was agreed to, and thus was she there.
+</p>
+<p>
+Theirs was not a life to engender the suspicions and distrusts which are
+current in the busier walks of men. None asked her a reason for her
+self-banishment, none inquired whether the cause of her exile was crime or
+misfortune. They had grown to feel attachment to her for the qualities of
+her gentle, quiet nature, a mild submissive temper, and a disposition to
+oblige, that forgot nothing save herself. Her habits had taught her
+resources and ways which their isolated existence had denied them, and she
+made herself useful by various arts, which, simple as they were, seemed
+marvellous to the apprehension of her hosts; and thus, day by day, gaining
+on their love and esteem, they came at length to regard her with an
+affection mingled with a sort of homage.
+</p>
+<p>
+Poor Joan Landy&mdash;for we have not to explain that it was she&mdash;was
+happy,&mdash;happier than ever she had been before. The one great sorrow
+of her life was, it is true, treasured in her heart; her lost home, her
+blighted hope, her severed affection&mdash;for she actually loved Magennis&mdash;were
+griefs over which she wept many an hour in secret; but there was a sense
+of duty, a conscious feeling of rectitude, that supported her in her
+sacrifice, and as she thought of her old grandfather's death-bed, she
+could say to her heart, &ldquo;I have been true to my word with him.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+The unbroken quiet, the unchanging character of the life she led,&mdash;its
+very duties following a routine that nothing ever disturbed,&mdash;gave
+her ample time for thought; and thought, though tinged with melancholy,
+has its own store of consolation; and if poor Joan sorrowed, she sorrowed
+like one who rather deplored the past than desired to re-live it! As time
+wore on, a dreamy indistinctness seemed to spread itself over the memory
+of her former life: it appeared little other than a mind-drawn picture.
+Nothing actual or tangible remained to convince her of its reality. It was
+only at rare intervals, and in the very clearest weather, the outline of
+the mountains of the mainland could be seen; and when she did behold them,
+they brought only some vague recollection to her; and so, too, the
+memories of her once home came through the haze of distance, dim and
+indistinct.
+</p>
+<p>
+It was at the close of a day in June that the Joyces sat in front of the
+little cabin, repairing their nets, and getting their tackle in readiness
+for the sea. For some time previous the weather had been broken and
+unfavorable. Strong west winds and heavy seas&mdash;far from infrequent in
+these regions, even in midsummer&mdash;had rendered fishing impracticable;
+but now the aspect of a new moon, rising full an hour before sunset, gave
+promise of better, and old Joyce had got the launch drawn up on shore to
+refit, and sails were spread out upon the rocks to dry, and coils of rope,
+and anchors, and loose spars littered the little space before the door.
+The scene was a busy and not an unpicturesque one. There was every age,
+from the oldest to very infancy, all active, all employed. Some were
+calking the seams of the boat, others overhauled sails and cordage; some
+were preparing the nets, attaching cork floats or sinkers; and two chubby
+urchins, mere infants, laughing, fed the fire that blazed beneath a large
+pitch-pot, the light blue smoke rising calmly into the air, and telling
+those far away that the lone rock was not without inhabitants. To all
+seeming, these signs of life and habitation bad attracted notice; for a
+small boat which had quitted Innishmore for the mainland some time before,
+now altered her course, and was seen slowly bearing up towards the
+Brannocks. Though the sea was calm and waveless, the wind was only
+sufficient to waft her along at the slowest rate; a twinkling flash of the
+sea at intervals showed, however, that her crew were rowing, and at length
+the measured beat of the oars could be distinctly heard.
+</p>
+<p>
+Many were the speculations of those who watched her course. They knew she
+was not a fishing-craft; her light spars and white sails were sufficient
+to refute that opinion. Neither was she one of the revenue-boats. What
+could she be, then, since no large ship was in sight to which she could
+have belonged? It is only to those who have at some one period or other of
+life sojourned in some lone spot of earth, away from human intercourse,
+that the anxiety of these poor people could be intelligible. If, good
+reader,&mdash;for to you we now appeal,&mdash;it has not been your lot to
+have once on a time lived remote from the world and its ways, you cannot
+imagine how intensely interesting can become the commonest of those
+incidents which mark ordinary existence. They assume, indeed, very
+different proportions from the real, and come charged with innumerable
+imaginings about that wondrous life, far, far away, where there are
+thoughts and passions and deeds and events which never enter into the
+dreamland of exile! It was a little after sunset that the boat glided into
+the small creek which formed the only harbor of the island; and the moment
+after, a young girl sprang on the shore, and hastened towards them.
+</p>
+<p>
+<a name="linkimage-0014" id="linkimage-0014">
+<!-- IMG --></a>
+</p>
+<div class="fig" style="width:80%;">
+<img src="images/334.jpg" width="100%" alt="334 " />
+</div>
+<p>
+Before the Joyces had recovered from their first surprise, they saw Joan
+burst from the spot, and, rushing down the slope, throw herself at the
+stranger's feet.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And have I found you at last, dear Joan?&rdquo; cried a soft, low voice, while
+the speaker raised her tenderly from the ground, and took her hand kindly
+within both her own.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Oh, Miss Mary, to think you 'd come after me this far! over the say!&rdquo;
+ burst out Joan, sobbing through her joy; for joy it was that now lit up
+her features, and made her eyes sparkle even through the fresh tears that
+filled them.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;They told me you had sailed from Galway,&rdquo; resumed Mary, &ldquo;and I wrote to
+the ship-agent and found it was correct: your name was in the list of
+passengers, and the date of the day you sailed; but, I know not how it
+was, Joan, I still clung to the notion that you had contrived this plan to
+escape being discovered, and that you were concealed somewhere along the
+coast or in the islands. I believe I used to dream of this at first, but
+at last I thought of it all day long.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Thought of <i>me</i> all day long?&rdquo; broke in Joan, sobbing.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And why not, poor child? Was I not the cause of your leaving your home?
+Was it not my persuasion that induced you to leave the roof that sheltered
+you? I have often wondered whether I had right and reason on my side. I
+know at the time I believed I had such. At all events, but for me you had
+never quitted that home; but see, Joan, how what we are led to do with an
+honest purpose, if it fail to effect what we had in view, often leads to
+better and happier ends than we ever dreamed of. I only thought of
+conveying to you the last message of your poor grandfather. I little
+imagined how so simple an act could influence all your future fortune in
+life; and such it has done. Mr. Magennis, suspecting or discovering what
+share I had in your flight, has begun a law proceeding against me, and to
+give him a rightful claim for redress, has declared you to be&mdash;all
+that you wish, dear Joan&mdash;his lawful, wedded wife.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+It was some time before the poor girl could stifle the sobbing which burst
+from her very heart. She kissed Mary's hands over and over with rapture,
+and cried out at length, in broken, faltering accents, &ldquo;Did n't they say
+well that called you a saint from heaven? Didn't they tell truth that
+said, God gave you as a blessing to us?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;My poor Joan, you are grateful to me for what I have no share in. I am
+nothing but the bearer of good tidings. But tell me, how have you fared
+since we parted? Let me hear all that has happened to you.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Joan told her simple story in a few words, never deviating from the
+narrative, save to speak her heartfelt gratitude to the poor people who
+had sheltered and befriended her.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;There they are!&rdquo; cried she, pointing to the group, who, with a delicacy
+of sentiment that might have graced the most refined class, sat apart,
+never venturing by a look to obtrude upon the confidence of the others,&mdash;&ldquo;there
+they are; and if the world was like them, life would n't have many
+crosses!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Mary rose, and drew nigh the old man, who stood up respectfully to receive
+her.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;He does n't know much English, Miss Mary,&rdquo; whispered Joan in her ear.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Nor am I well skilled in Irish,&rdquo; said Mary, smiling; &ldquo;but I 'll do my
+best to thank him.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+However imperfectly she spoke the native tongue, the words seemed to act
+like a charm on those who heard them; and as, young and old, they gathered
+around her, their eager looks and delighted faces beamed with a triumphant
+joy. They had learned from the boatmen that it was the young princess&mdash;as
+in the language of the people she was called&mdash;was before them, and
+their pride and happiness knew no bounds.
+</p>
+<p>
+Oh, if courtiers could feel one tithe of the personal devotion to the
+sovereign that did these poor peasants to her they regarded as their
+chief, what an atmosphere of chivalry would breathe within the palace of
+royalty! There was nothing they would not have done or dared at her
+bidding; and as she crossed their threshold, and sat down beside their
+hearth, the tears of joy that rose to every eye showed that this was an
+event to be treasured till memory could retain no more!
+</p>
+<p>
+If Mary did not speak the native dialect fluently, there was a grace and a
+charm about the turn of the expressions she used that never failed to
+delight those who heard her. That imaginative thread that runs through the
+woof of Irish nature in every rank and condition of life&mdash;more
+conspicuous, probably, in the very humblest&mdash;imparted an intense
+pleasure to hearing and listening to her; and she, on her side, roused and
+stimulated by the adventurous character of the incident, the strange wild
+spot, the simple people, their isolation and their innocence, spoke with a
+warmth and an enthusiasm that were perfectly captivating.
+</p>
+<p>
+She had seen much of the peasantry,&mdash;known them in the most
+unfrequented tracts, remote from all their fellow-men,&mdash;in far-away
+glens, by dreary mountains, where no footpaths led; but anything so purely
+simple and unsophisticated as these poor people she had never met with.
+The sons had been&mdash;and that rarely, too&mdash;on the mainland, but
+the children and their mothers had never left the Brannocks; they had
+never beheld a tree, nor even a flower, save the wild crocus on their
+native rock. With what eager delight, then, did they hear Mary describe
+the gardens of the castle,&mdash;pictures that glowed with all the
+gorgeous colors of a fairy tale. &ldquo;You shall all come and see me, some of
+these days. I'll send you a messenger, to say the time,&rdquo; said Mary; &ldquo;and
+I'll promise that what you 'll witness will be far above my description of
+it!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+It was a sad moment when Mary arose to say good-bye. Joan, too, was to
+accompany her, and the grief at parting with her was extreme. Again and
+again the children clung round her, entreating her not to leave them; and
+she herself half faltered in her resolution. That lonely rock, that rude
+cabin, had been her refuge in the darkest hour of her life, and she felt
+the superstitious terror of her class at now deserting them.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Come, come, dear Joan, remember that you have a home now that you can
+rightfully return to,&rdquo; whispered Mary. &ldquo;It is not in shame, but in honor,
+that you go back to it.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+It was already dark ere they left the Brannocks: a long, heavy swell, too,
+the signs of a storm, coming from the westward, made the boatmen eager to
+hasten their departure. As yet, however, the air was calm and still, but
+it was with that oppressive stillness that forebodes change. They hoisted
+their sail, but soon saw that they must, for a while at least, trust to
+their oars. The unbroken stillness, save by the measured stroke of the
+rowers, the dense dark atmosphere, and the reaction, after a day of toil
+and an event of a most moving kind, so overcame Mary that, leaning on
+Joan's shoulder, she fell off fast asleep. For a while Joan, proud of the
+burden she supported, devoted all her care to watch and protect her from
+the night air; but at last weariness stole over herself, and she dropped
+off to slumber.
+</p>
+<p>
+Meanwhile the sea was rising; heavy waves struck the boat, and washed over
+her in sheets of spray, although no wind was stirring.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;We 'll have rain, or a gale of wind before long,&rdquo; said one of the men.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;There 's some heavy drops falling now,&rdquo; muttered another.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Throw that sail over Miss Mary, for it will soon come down heavily.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+A loud clap of thunder burst forth, and as suddenly, like a torrent, the
+rain poured down, hissing over the dark sea, and filling the air with a
+dull, discordant noise. Still they slept on, nor heard nor felt aught of
+that gathering storm.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;There now, sure enough, it 's coming,&rdquo; cried a boatman, as the sail shook
+tremulously; and two great waves, in quick succession, broke over the bow.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;We'll have to run for Innishmore,&rdquo; said another, &ldquo;and lucky if we get
+there before it comes on worse.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You ought to wake her up, Loony, and ask her what we are to do.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I 'll make straight for the harbor of Kilkieran,&rdquo; replied the helmsman.
+&ldquo;The wind is with us, and she's a good sea-boat. Take in the jib, Maurice,
+and we'll shorten all sail on her, and&mdash;&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+The rest of his speech was drowned in the uproar of a tremendous sea,
+which struck the boat on her quarter and nearly overset her. Not another
+word was now uttered, as, with the instinct of their calling, they set
+about to prepare for the coming conflict. The mainsail was quickly lowered
+and reefed, the oars and loose spars secured, and then, seating themselves
+in the bottom of the boat, they waited in silence. By this time the rain
+had passed over, and a strong wind swept over the sea.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;She's going fast through the water, anyway!&rdquo; said one of the men. But
+though the speech was meant to cheer, none felt or acknowledged the
+encouragement.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I 'd rather than own Cro' Martin Castle Miss Mary was safe at home!&rdquo; said
+Loony, as he drew the rough sleeve of his coat across his eyes, &ldquo;for it's
+thicker it's getting over yonder!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;It would be a black day that anything happened her!&rdquo; muttered another.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Musha! we've wives and childer,&rdquo; said a third, &ldquo;but she's worth a
+thousand of us!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+And thus, in broken whispers, they spoke; not a thought save of her, not a
+care save for her safety. They prayed, too, fervently, and her name was in
+all their supplications.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;She's singing to herself in her sleep,&rdquo; whispered Loony. And the rough
+sailors hushed to hear her.
+</p>
+<p>
+Louder and louder, however, grew the storm, sheets of spray and drift
+falling over the boat in showers, and all her timbers quivering as she
+labored in the stormy sea. A sailor whispered something in Loony's ear,
+and he grumbled out in reply,&mdash;&ldquo;Why would I wake her up?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;But I <i>am</i> awake, Loony,&rdquo; said Mary, in a low, calm voice, &ldquo;and I
+see all our danger; but I see, too, that you are meeting it like brave
+men, and, better still, like good ones.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;The men was thinking we ought to bear up for Innish-more, Miss Mary,&rdquo;
+ said Loony, as though ashamed of offering on his own part such counsel.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You'll do what you think best and safest for us all, Loony.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;But you were always the captain, miss, when you were aboord!&rdquo; replied he,
+with an effort to smile.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And so I should be now, Loony, but that my heart is too full to be as
+calm and resolute as I ought to be. This poor thing had not been here now,
+but for <i>me</i>.&rdquo; And she wrapped her shawl around Joan as she spoke.
+&ldquo;Maybe it's anxiety, perhaps fatigue, but I have not my old courage
+to-night!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Faix! it will never be fear that will distress you!&rdquo; said he.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;If you mean for myself and my own safety, Loony, you are right. It is not
+for me to repine at the hour that calls me away, but I cannot bear to
+think how you and others, with so many dear to you, should be perilled
+just to serve <i>me!</i> And poor Joan, too, at the moment when life was
+about to brighten for her!&rdquo; She held down her head for a minute or two,
+and then suddenly, as it were, rallying, she cried out, &ldquo;The boat is
+laboring too much for'ard, Loony; set the jib on her!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;To be sure, if you ordher it, Miss Mary; but she has more sail now than
+she can carry.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Set the jib, Loony. I know the craft well; she 'll ride the waves all the
+lighter for it. If it were but daylight, I almost think I 'd enjoy this.
+We 've been out in as bad before.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Loony shook his head as he went forward to bend the additional sail.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You see she won't bear it, miss,&rdquo; cried he, as the boat plunged fearfully
+into the trough of the sea.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Let us try,&rdquo; said she, calmly. &ldquo;Stand by, ready to slack off, if I give
+the word.&rdquo; And so saying, she took the tiller from the sailor, and seated
+herself on the weather-gunwale. &ldquo;There, see how she does it now! Ah,
+Loony, confess, I am the true pilot. I knew my nerve would come back when
+I took my old post here. I was always a coward in a carriage, if I was n't
+on the box and the reins in my hands; and the same at sea. Sit up to
+windward, men, and don't move; never mind baling, only keep quiet.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Miss Mary was right,&rdquo; muttered one of the men; &ldquo;the head-sail is drawing
+her high out of the water!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Is that dark mass before us cloud, or the land?&rdquo; cried she.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;It's the mountains, miss. There to the left, where you see the dip in the
+ridge, that's Kilkieran. I think I see the lights on shore now.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I see them now myself,&rdquo; cried Mary. &ldquo;Oh, how the sight of land gives love
+of life! They called earth truly who named her mother!&rdquo; said she to
+herself. &ldquo;What was that which swept past us, Loony?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;A boat, miss; and they're hailing us now,&rdquo; cried he, peeping over the
+gunwale. &ldquo;They've put her about, and are following our course. They came
+out after us.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;It was gallantly done, on such a night as this! I was just thinking to
+myself that poor old Mat Landy would have been out, were he living. You
+must take the tiller now, Loony, for I don't understand the lights on
+shore.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Because they're shifting every minute, miss. It's torches they have, and
+they 're moving from place to place; but we 'll soon be safe now.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Let us not forget this night, men,&rdquo; said Mary, in a fervent voice. And
+then, burying her face within her hands, she spoke no more.
+</p>
+<p>
+It was already daybreak when they gained the little harbor, well-nigh
+exhausted, and worn out with fatigue and anxiety. As for Mary, wet through
+and cold, she could not rise from her seat without assistance, and almost
+fainted as she put her foot on shore. She turned one glance seaward to
+where the other boat was seen following them, and then, holding Joan's
+hand, she slowly toiled up the rocky ascent to the village. To the crowd
+of every age that surrounded her she could only give a faint, sickly smile
+of recognition, and they, in deep reverence, stood without speaking,
+gazing on her wan features and the dripping garments which clung to her.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;No, not to the inn, Loony,&rdquo; said she, to a question from him. &ldquo;The first
+cabin we meet will shelter us, and then&mdash;home!&rdquo; There was something
+of intense sorrow in the thought that passed then through her mind, for
+her eyes suddenly filled up, and heavy tears rolled along her cheeks.
+&ldquo;Have they got in yet?&rdquo; said she, looking towards the sea.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yes, miss; they're close alongside now. It's the revenue boat that went
+after us.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Wirra, wirra! but that's bad news for her now,&rdquo; muttered a boatman, in
+conversation with an old woman at his side.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;What's the bad news, Patsey?&rdquo; said Mary, overhearing him.
+</p>
+<p>
+But the man did not dare to answer; and though he looked around on every
+side, none would speak for him.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You used to be more frank with me,&rdquo; said Mary, calmly. &ldquo;Tell me what has
+happened.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Still not a word was uttered, a mournful silence brooded over the crowd,
+and each seemed to shun the task of breaking it.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You will make me fear worse than the reality, perhaps,&rdquo; said she,
+tremulously. &ldquo;Is the calamity near home? No. Is it then my uncle?&rdquo; A low
+faint cry burst from her, and she dropped down on her knees; but scarcely
+had she joined her hands to pray, than she fell back, fainting, to the
+ground.
+</p>
+<p>
+They carried her, still insensible as she was, into a fisherman's cabin,
+till they went in search of a conveyance to take her to the cottage.
+</p>
+<p>
+<a name="link2HCH0032" id="link2HCH0032">
+<!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+</p>
+<div style="height: 4em;">
+<br /><br /><br /><br />
+</div>
+<h2>
+CHAPTER XXXII. LETTER FROM MASSINGBRED.
+</h2>
+<h3>
+&ldquo;Martin Arms, Oughterard.
+</h3>
+<p>
+&ldquo;In spite of all your reasonings, all your cautions, and all your
+warnings, here I am once more, Harry, denizen of the little dreary parlor
+whence I first looked out at Dan Nelligan's shop something more than a
+year since. What changes of fortune has that brief space accomplished I
+what changes has it effected even in my own nature! I feel this in nothing
+more than in my altered relations with others. If the first evidence of
+amendment in a man be shame and sorrow for the past, I may probably be on
+the right road now, since I heartily grieve over the worthless,
+purposeless life I have led hitherto.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I am well aware that you would not accept the reason I gave you for
+coming here. You said that, as to taking leave of my constituents, a
+letter was the ordinary and the sufficient course. You also hinted that
+our intercourse had not been of that close and friendly nature which
+requires a personal farewell, and then you suggested that other and less
+defensible motives had probably their share in this step. Well, you are
+right, perfectly right; I wanted to see the spot which has so far exerted
+an immense influence over me; I wanted&mdash;if you will have the
+confession&mdash;to see <i>her</i> too,&mdash;to see her in the humble
+station she belongs to, in the lowly garb of the steward's daughter. I was
+curious to ascertain what change her bearing would undergo in the change
+of position; would she conform to the lowlier condition at once and
+without struggle, or would her haughty nature chafe and fret against the
+obstacles of a small and mean existence? If you were right in guessing
+this, you are equally wrong in the motive you ascribe to me. Not, indeed,
+that you palpably express, but only hint at it; still I cannot endure even
+the shadow of such a surmise without a flat and full denial. Perhaps,
+after all, I have mistaken your meaning,&mdash;would it were so! I do
+indeed wish that you should not ascribe to me motives so unworthy and so
+mean. A revenge for her refusal of me! a reprisal for the proud rejection
+of my hand and fortune! No, my dear Harry, I feel, as I write the words,
+that they never were yours. You say, however, that I am curious to know if
+I should think her as lovable and attractive in the humble dress and
+humble station that pertain to her, as when I saw her moving more than
+equal amongst the proudest and haughtiest of Europe. To have any doubt on
+this score would be to distrust her sincerity of character. She must be
+what I have ever seen her, or she is an actress. Difference of condition,
+different associates, different duties will exact different discipline,
+but she herself must be the same, or she is a falsehood,&mdash;a
+deception.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And then you add, it is perhaps as well that I should 'submit to the rude
+test of a disenchantment.' Well, I accept the challenge, and I am here.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;These thoughts of self would obtrude in the very beginning of a letter I
+had destined for other objects. You ask me for a narrative of my journey
+and its accidents, and you shall have it. On my way over here in the
+packet, I made acquaintance with an elderly man, who seemed thoroughly
+acquainted with all the circumstances of the Martins and their
+misfortunes. From him I ascertained that all Scanlan had told me was
+perfectly correct. The reversion of the estate has been sold for a sum
+incredibly small in proportion to its value, and in great part the
+proceeds of gambling transactions. Martin is, therefore, utterly,
+irretrievably ruined. Merl has taken every step with all the security of
+the best advice, and in a few months, weeks perhaps, will be declared
+owner of Cro' Martin. Even in the 'fast times' we live in, such rapid ruin
+as this stands alone! You tell me that of your own college and mess
+associates not more than one in five or six have survived the wreck of
+fortune the first few years of extravagance accomplish, and that Manheim,
+Brussels, and Munich can show the white-seamed, mock-smartened-up
+gentilities which once were the glories of Bond Street and the Park; but
+for poor Martin, I suspect, even these last sanctuaries do not remain,&mdash;as
+I hear it, he is totally gone.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;From the very inn where I am staying Merls agents are issuing notices of
+all kinds to the tenants and 'others' to desist and refrain from cutting
+timber, quarrying marbles, and what not, on certain unspeakable
+localities, with threats in case of non-compliance. Great placards cover
+the walls of the town, headed 'Caution to all Tenants on the Estate of
+Cro' Martin.' The excitement in the neighborhood is intense, overwhelming.
+Whatever differences of political opinion existed between the Martins and
+the people of the borough, whatever jealousies grew out of disparity of
+station, seemed suddenly merged in sympathy for this great misfortune.
+They are, of course, ignorant of the cause of this sudden calamity, and
+ask each other how, when, and where such a fortune because engulfed.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;But to proceed regularly. On my reaching Dublin, after a hurried visit to
+my father, I drove off to Mr. Repton's house. You may remember his name as
+that of the old lawyer, some of whose bar stories amused you so highly. I
+found him in a spacious mansion of an old neglected street,&mdash;Henrietta
+Street,&mdash;once the great aristocratic quarter of Ancient Dublin, and
+even to this day showing traces of real splendor. The old man received me
+in a room of immense proportions, furnished as it was when Flood was the
+proprietor. He was at luncheon when I entered; and for company had the
+very same stranger with whom I made acquaintance in the packet.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Repton started as we recognized each other, but at a sign or a word, I'm
+not certain which, from the other, merely said, 'My friend was just
+speaking of his having met you, Mr. Massingbred.' This somewhat informal
+presentation over, I joined them, and we fell a chatting over the story of
+Cro' Martin.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;They were both eager to hear something about Merl, his character,
+pursuits, and position; and you would have been amazed to see how
+surprised they were at my account of a man whose type we are all so
+familiar with.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You would scarcely credit the unfeigned astonishment manifested by these
+two shrewd and crafty men at the sketch I gave them of our Hebrew friend.
+One thing is quite clear,&mdash;it was not the habit, some forty or fifty
+years ago, to admit the Merls of the world to terms of intimacy, far less
+of friendship.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;'As I said, Repton,' broke in the stranger, sternly, 'it all comes of
+that degenerate tone which has crept in of late, making society like a
+tavern, where he who can pay his bill cannot be denied entrance. Such
+fellows as this Merl had no footing in our day. The man who associated
+with such would have forfeited his own place in the world.'
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;'Very true,' said Repton, 'though we borrowed their money we never bowed
+to them.'
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;'And we did wisely, sir,' retorted the other. 'The corruption of their
+manners was fifty times worse than all their usury! The gallant Hussar
+Captain, as we see here, never scrupled about admitting to his closest
+intimacy a fellow not fit company for his valet. Can't you perceive that
+when a man will descend to such baseness to obtain money, there is no
+measuring the depth he will go to when pressed to pay it?'
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;'I am intimate with Martin,' said I, interrupting, 'and I can honestly
+assure you that it was rather to an easy, careless, uncalculating
+disposition he owes his misfortunes, than to anything like a spendthrift
+habit.'
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;'Mere hair-splitting this, sir,' replied he, almost rudely. 'He who
+spends what is not his own, I have but one name for. It matters little in
+my estimation whether he extorts the supply by a bill or a bullet.'
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I own to you, Harry, I burned to retort to a speech the tone and manner
+of which were both more offensive than the words; but the stranger's age,
+his venerable appearance, and something like deep and recent sorrow about
+him, restrained me, and I caught, by a look from Repton, that he was
+grateful for my forbearance.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;'Come, sir,' said he, addressing me, 'you say you know Captain Martin;
+now let me ask you one question: Is there any one trait or feature of his
+character to which, if his present misfortunes were to pass away, you
+could attach a hope of amendment? Has not this life of bill-renewing,
+these eternal straits for cash&mdash;with all the humiliations that
+accompany them,&mdash;made him a mere creature of schemes and plots,&mdash;a
+usurer in spirit, though a pauper in fact?'
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;'When I say, sir, that you are addressing this demand to one whom Captain
+Martin deems his friend, you will see the impropriety you have fallen
+into.'
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;'My young friend is right,' broke in Repton. 'The Court rules against the
+question; nor would it be evidence even if answered.'
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I was angry at this interference of Repton's. I wanted to reply to this
+man myself; but still, as I looked at his sorrow-struck features, and saw
+what I fancied the marks of a proud suffering spirit, I was well satisfied
+at not having given way to temper; still more so did I feel as he turned
+towards me, and, with a manner of ineffable gentleness, said, 'I entreat
+you to pardon me, sir, for an outburst of which I am already ashamed. A
+rude life and some bitter experiences have made me hard of heart and
+coarse in speech; still, it is only in moments of forgetfulness that I
+cease to remember what indulgence he owes to others who has such need of
+forgiveness himself.'
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I grasped his hand at once, and felt that his pressed mine like a
+friend's.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;'You spoke of going down to the West,' said he, after a brief pause. 'I
+start for that country to-night; you would do me a great favor should you
+accompany me.'
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I acceded at once, and he went on. 'Repton was to have been of the party,
+but business delays him a few days in town.'
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;'I 'll join you before the end of the week,' said Repton; 'by that time
+Mr. Massingbred will have expended all his borough blandishments and be
+free to give us his society.'
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Though the old lawyer now tried, and tried cleverly, to lead us away to
+lighter, pleasanter themes, the attempt was a failure; each felt, I
+suspect, some oppressive weight on his spirits that indisposed him to less
+serious talk; and again we came back to the Martins, the stranger
+evidently seeking to learn all he could of the disposition and temper of
+the young man.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;'It is as I thought,' said he, at last. 'It is the weak, sickly tone of
+the day has brought all this corruption upon us! Once upon a time the
+vices and follies of young men took their rise in their several natures,&mdash;this
+one gambled, the other drank, and so on,&mdash;the mass, however, was
+wonderfully sound and healthy; the present school, however, is to ape a
+uniformity, so that each may show himself in the livery of his fellows,
+thus imbibing wickedness he has no taste for, and none be less depraved
+and heartless than those around him. Let the women but follow the fashion,
+and there 's an end of us, as the great people we boasted to be!'
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I give you, so well as I can trust my memory, his words, Harry, but I
+cannot give you a certain sardonic bitterness,&mdash;a tone of mingled
+scorn and sorrow, such as I never before witnessed. He gave me the
+impression of being one who, originally frank, generous, and trustful,
+had, by intercourse with the world and commerce with mankind, grown to
+suspect every one and disbelieve in honesty, and yet could not bring his
+heart to acknowledge what his head had determined. In this wise, at least,
+I read his character from the opportunities I had of conversing with him
+on our journey. It was easy to see that he was a gentleman,&mdash;taking
+the word in the widest of its acceptations,&mdash;but from things that
+dropped from him, I could gather that his life had been that of an
+adventurer. He had been in the sea and land services of many of those new
+states of Southern America, had even risen to political importance in some
+of them; had possessed mines and vast tracts of territory one day, and the
+next saw himself 'without a piastre.' He had conducted operations against
+the Indians, and made treaties with them, and latterly had lived as the
+elected chief of a tribe in the west of the Rocky Mountains. But he knew
+civilized as well as savage life, had visited Spain in the rank of an
+envoy, and was familiar with all the great society of Rome, and the
+intrigues of its prince-bishops. The only theme, however, on which he
+really warmed was sport. The prairies brought out all his enthusiasm, and
+then he spoke like one carried away by glorious recollections of a time
+when, as he said himself, 'heart and hand and eye never failed him.'
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;When he spoke of family ties or home affections, it was in a spirit of
+almost mockery, which puzzled me. His reasoning was that the attachments
+we form are only emanations of our own selfishness. We love, simply to be
+loved again. Whereas, were we single-hearted, we should be satisfied to
+know that those dear to us were well and happy, and only seek to serve
+them without demonstration or display.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Am I wearying you, Harry, by dwelling on the traits of a man who, for the
+brief space I have known him, has made the most profound impression upon
+me? Even where I dissent&mdash;as is often the case&mdash;from his views,
+I have to own to myself that were I <i>he</i>, I should think and reason
+precisely as he does. I fancied at first that, like many men who had
+quitted civilized life for the rude ways of the 'bush,' he would have
+contrasted the man of refinement unfavorably with the savage, but he was
+too keen and acute for such a sweeping fallacy; he saw the good and evil
+in both, and sensibly remarked how independent of all education were the
+really strong characteristics of human nature. 'There is not a great
+quality of our first men,' said he, 'that I have not found to exist among
+the wild tribes of the Far West, nor is there an excellence of savage
+nature I have not witnessed amidst the polished and the pampered.'
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;From what I can collect, he is only here passingly; some family matter
+has brought him over to this country; but he is already impatient to be
+back to his old haunts and associates, and his home beside the Orinoco. He
+has even asked me to come and visit him there; and from all I can see I
+should be as likely to attain distinction among the Chaymas as in the
+House of Commons, and should find the soft turf of the Savannahs as
+pleasant as the Opposition benches. In fact, Harry, I have half promised
+to accept his invitation; and if he renew it with anything like
+earnestness, I am resolved to go.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I am just setting out for the Hendersons', and while the horses are being
+harnessed I have re-read your letter. Of course I have 'counted the cost,'&mdash;I
+have weighed the question to a pennyweight! I could already write down the
+list of those who will not know me at all, those who will know me a
+little, and the still fewer who will know my wife! Can you not see, my
+dear friend, that where one drags the anchor so easily, the mooring-ground
+was never good? The society to which you belong by such slender
+attachments gives no wound by separation from it.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;My anxiety now is on a very different score: it is that she will still
+refuse me. The hope I cling to is that she will see in my persistence a
+proof of sincerity. I would not, if I could, bring any family influence to
+my aid, and yet, short of this, there is nothing I would not do to insure
+success.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I wish I had never re-opened your letter; that vein of sarcastic coolness
+which runs through it will never turn me from my purpose. You seem to
+forget, besides, that you are talking to a man of the world, just as
+hackneyed, just as 'used up' as yourself. I should like to see you assume
+this indolent dalliance before La Henderson! Take my word for it, Harry,
+you 'd be safer with the impertinence amongst some of your duchesses in
+Pall Mall. You say that great beauty in a woman, like genius in a man, is
+a kind of brevet nobility, and yet you add that the envy of the world will
+never weary of putting the possessor 'on his title.' How gladly would I
+accept this challenge! Ay, Harry, I tell you, in all defiance, that your
+proudest could not vie with her!
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;If I wanted a proof of the vassalage of the social state we live in, I
+have it before me in the fact that a man like yourself, wellborn, young,
+rich, and high-hearted, should place the judgments and prejudices of half
+a dozen old tabbies of either sex above all the promptings of a noble
+ambition&mdash;all the sentiments of a generous devotion. Your starling
+cry of 'the Steward's daughter,' then, does not deter, it only determines
+the purpose
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Of yours faithfully,
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Jack Massingbred.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You 'll see by the papers that I have accepted the Chiltern Hundreds.
+This is the first step.&mdash;now for the second!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+<a name="link2HCH0033" id="link2HCH0033">
+<!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+</p>
+<div style="height: 4em;">
+<br /><br /><br /><br />
+</div>
+<h2>
+CHAPTER XXXIII. A DINNER AT &ldquo;THE LODGE&rdquo;
+ </h2>
+<p>
+While the &ldquo;Morning Post&rdquo; of a certain day, some twenty years ago, was
+chronicling the illustrious guests who partook of his Majesty's
+hospitalities at Windsor, the &ldquo;Dublin Evening Mail,&rdquo; under the less
+pretentious heading of &ldquo;Viceregal Court,&rdquo; gave a list of those who had
+dined with his Excellency at the Lodge.
+</p>
+<p>
+There was not anything very striking or very new in the announcement. Our
+<i>dramatis personæ,</i> in this wise, are limited; and after the
+accustomed names of the Lord Chancellor and Mrs. Dobbs, the Master of the
+Rolls and Mrs. Wiggins, Colonel Somebody of the 105th, Sir Felix and Miss
+Slasher, you invariably find the catalogue close with an un-der-secretary,
+a king-at-arms, and the inevitable Captain Lawrence Belcour, the
+aide-de-camp in waiting!&mdash;these latter recorded somewhat in the same
+spirit that the manager of a provincial theatre swells the roll of his
+company, by the names of the machinist, the scene-painter, and the leader
+of the band! We have no peculiar concern, however, with this fact, save
+that on the day in question our old friend Joseph Nelligan figured as a
+vice-regal guest. It was the first time he had been so honored, and,
+although not of a stamp to attach any great prize to the distinction, he
+was well aware that the recognition was intended as an honor; the more,
+when an aide-de-camp signified to him that his place at table was on one
+side of his Excellency.
+</p>
+<p>
+When this veracious history first displayed young Nelligan at a
+dinner-party, his manner was shy and constrained; his secluded,
+student-like habits had given him none of that hardihood so essential in
+society. If he knew little of passing topics, he knew less of the tone men
+used in discussing them; and now, although more conversant with the world
+and its ways, daily brought into contact with the business of life, his
+social manner remained pretty nearly the same cold, awkward, and diffident
+thing it had been at first. Enlist him in a great subject, or call upon
+him on a great occasion, and he could rise above it; place him in a
+position to escape notice, and you never heard more of him.
+</p>
+<p>
+The dinner company on this day contained nothing very formidable, either
+on the score of station or ability,&mdash;a few bar celebrities with their
+wives, an eccentric dean with a daughter, a garrison colonel or two, three
+country squires, and a doctor from Merrion Square. It was that interregnal
+period between the time when the castle parties included the first gentry
+of the land, and that later era when the priest and the agitator became
+the favored guests of vice-royalty. It is scarce necessary to say it was,
+as regards agreeability, inferior to either. There was not the courtly
+urbanity and polished pleasantry of a very accomplished class; nor was
+there the shrewd and coarse but racy intelligence of Mr. O'Connell's
+followers.
+</p>
+<p>
+The Marquis of Reckington had come over to Ireland to &ldquo;inaugurate,&rdquo; as the
+newspapers called it, a new policy; that is, he was to give to the working
+of the relief bill an extension and a significance which few either of its
+supporters or opposers in Parliament ever contemplated. The inequality of
+the Romanist before the law he might have borne; social depreciation was a
+heavier evil, and one quite intolerable. Now, as the change to the new
+system required considerable tact and address, they intrusted the task to
+a most accomplished and well-bred gentleman; and were Ireland only to be
+won by dinner-parties, Lord Reckington must have been its victor.
+</p>
+<p>
+To very high rank and great personal advantages he united a manner of the
+most perfect kind. Dignified enough always to mark his station and his own
+consciousness of it, it was cordial without effort, frank and easy without
+display. If he could speak with all the weight of authority, he knew how
+to listen with actual deference; and there was that amount of change and
+&ldquo;play&rdquo; in his demeanor that made his companion, whoever for the moment he
+might be, believe that his views and arguments had made a deep impression
+on the Viceroy. To those unacquainted with such men, and the school to
+which they belong, there might have appeared something unreal, almost
+dramatic, in the elegant gracefulness of his bow, the gentle affability of
+his smile, the undeviating courtesy which he bestowed on all around him;
+but they were all of the man himself,&mdash;his very instincts,&mdash;his
+nature.
+</p>
+<p>
+It had apparently been amongst his Excellency's instructions from his
+government to seek out such rising men of the Roman Catholic party as
+might be elevated and promoted on the just claims of their individual
+merits,&mdash;men, in fact, whose conduct and bearing would be certain to
+justify their selection for high office. It could not be supposed that a
+party long proscribed, long estranged from all participation in power,
+could be rich in such qualifications. At the bar, the ablest men usually
+threw themselves into the career of politics, and of course by strong
+partisanship more or less prejudiced their claims to office. It was rare
+indeed to find one who, with the highest order of abilities, was satisfied
+to follow a profession whose best rewards were denied him. Such was Joseph
+Nelligan when he was first &ldquo;called,&rdquo; and such he continued to the very
+hour we now see him. Great as had been his college successes, his triumphs
+at the bar overtopped them all. They who remembered his shy and reserved
+manner wondered whence he came by his dignity; they who knew his youth
+could not imagine how he came by his &ldquo;law.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Mr. M'Casky, the castle law-adviser, an old recruiting-serjeant of
+capacities, who had &ldquo;tipped the shilling&rdquo; to men of every party, had
+whispered his name to the Under-Secretary, who had again repeated it to
+the Viceroy. He was, as M'Casky said, &ldquo;the man they wanted, with talent
+enough to confront the best of the opposite party, and wealthy enough to
+want nothing that can figure in a budget.&rdquo; Hence was he, then, there a
+favored guest, and seated on his Excellency's left hand.
+</p>
+<p>
+For the magic influence of that manner which we have mentioned as
+pertaining to the Viceroy, we ask for no better evidence than the sense of
+perfect ease which Joe Nelligan now enjoyed. The <i>suave</i> dignity of
+the Marquis was blended with a something like personal regard, a
+mysterious intimation that seemed to say, &ldquo;This is the sort of man I have
+long been looking for; how gratifying that I should have found him at
+last!&rdquo; They concurred in so many points, too, not merely in opinions, but
+actually in the very expressions by which they characterized them; and
+when at last his Excellency, having occasion to quote something he had
+said, called him &ldquo;Nelligan,&rdquo; the spell was complete.
+</p>
+<p>
+Oh dear! when we torture our brains to legislate for apothecaries,
+endeavoring in some way or other to restrict the sale of those subtle
+ingredients on every grain or drop of which a human life may hang, why do
+we never think of those far more subtle elements of which great people are
+the dispensers,&mdash;flatteries more soothing than chloroform, smiles
+more lulling than poppy-juice! Imagine poor Nelligan under a course of
+this treatment, dear reader; fancy the delicious poison as it insinuates
+itself through his veins, and if you have ever been so drugged yourself,
+picture to your mind all the enjoyment he experienced.
+</p>
+<p>
+By one of those adroit turns your social magician is master of, the
+Viceroy had drawn the conversation towards Nelligan's county and his
+native town.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I was to have paid a visit to poor Martin there,&rdquo; said he, &ldquo;and I
+certainly should have looked in upon <i>you</i>.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Nelligan's cheek was in a flame; pride and shame were both there, warring
+for the mastery.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Poor fellow!&rdquo; said his Excellency, who saw the necessity of a diversion,
+&ldquo;I fear that he has left that immense estate greatly embarrassed. Some one
+mentioned to me, the other day, that the heir will not succeed to even a
+fourth of the old property.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I have heard even worse, my Lord,&rdquo; said Nelligan. &ldquo;There is a rumor that
+he is left without a shilling.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;How very shocking! They are connections of my own!&rdquo; said the Viceroy; as
+though what he said made the misery attain its climax.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I am aware, my Lord, that Lady Dorothea is related to your Excellency,
+and I am surprised you have not heard the stories I allude to.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;But perhaps I am incorrect,&rdquo; said the Marquis. &ldquo;It may be that I <i>have</i>
+heard them; so many things pass through one's ears every day. But here is
+Colonel Mas-singbred; he 's sure to know it. Massingbred, we want some
+news of the Martins&mdash;the Martins of&mdash;what is it called?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Cro' Martin, my Lord,&rdquo; said Nelligan, reddening.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I hold the very latest news of that county in my hand, my Lord,&rdquo; replied
+the Secretary. &ldquo;It is an express from my son, who writes from Oughterard.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Nelligan stood, scarcely breathing, with impatience to hear the tidings.
+</p>
+<p>
+Colonel Massingbred ran his eyes over the first page of the letter,
+murmuring to himself the words; then turning over, he said: &ldquo;Yes, here it
+is,&mdash;'While I write this, the whole town is in a state of intense
+excitement; the magistrates have sent in for an increased force of police,
+and even soldiery, to repress some very serious disturbances on the Martin
+property. It would appear that Merl&mdash;the man who assumes to claim the
+property, as having purchased the reversion from young Martin&mdash;was
+set upon by a large mob, and pursued, himself and his friends, for several
+miles across the country. They escaped with their lives, but have arrived
+here in a lamentable plight. There is really no understanding these
+people. It was but the other day, and there was no surer road to their
+favor than to abuse and vilify these same Martins, and now they are quite
+ready to murder any one who aspires to take their place. If one was to
+credit the stories afloat, they have already wreaked a fatal vengeance on
+some fellows employed by Merl to serve notices on the tenantry; but I
+believe that the outrages have really gone no further than such
+maltreatment as Irishmen like to give, and are accustomed to take.'&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Here his Excellency laughed heartily, and Joe Nelligan looked grave.
+</p>
+<p>
+Massingbred read on: &ldquo;'Without being myself a witness to it, I never could
+have credited the almost feudal attachment of these people to an &ldquo;Old
+House.&rdquo; The Radical party in the borough are, for the moment, proscribed,
+and dare not show themselves in the streets; and even Magennis, who so
+lately figured as an enemy to the Martins, passed through the town this
+morning with his wife, with a great banner flying over his jaunting-car,
+inscribed &ldquo;The Martins for Ever!&rdquo; This burst of sentiment on his part, I
+ought to mention, was owing to a most devoted piece of heroism performed
+by Miss Martin, who sought out the lost one and brought her safely back,
+through a night of such storm and hurricane as few ever remember. Such an
+act, amidst such a people, is sure of its reward. The peasantry would, to
+a man, lay down their lives for her; and coming critically, as the
+incident did, just when a new proprietor was about to enforce his claim,
+you can fancy the added bitterness it imparted to their spirit of
+resistance. I sincerely trust that the magistrates will not accede to the
+demand for an increased force. A terrible collision is sure to be the
+result, and I know enough of these people to be aware of what can be done
+by a little diplomacy, particularly when the right negotiator is employed.
+I mean, therefore, to go over and speak to Mr. Nelligan, who is the only
+man of brains amongst the magistrates here.'&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;A relative, I presume,&rdquo; said his Excellency.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;My father, my Lord,&rdquo; replied Joe, blushing.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Oh! here is the result of his interview,&rdquo; said Massing-bred, turning to
+the foot of the page. &ldquo;'Nelligan quite agreed in the view I had taken, and
+said the people would assuredly disarm and perhaps destroy any force we
+could send against them. He is greatly puzzled what course to adopt; and
+when I suggested the propriety of invoking Miss Martin's aid, told me that
+this is out of the question, since she is on a sick-bed. While we were
+speaking, a Dublin physician passed through on his way to visit her. This
+really does add to the complication, for she is, perhaps, the only one who
+could exert a great influence over the excited populace. In any other
+country it might read strangely, that it was to a young lady men should
+have recourse in a moment of such peril; but this is like no other
+country, the people like no other people, the young lady herself, perhaps,
+like no other young lady!'&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+By a scarcely perceptible movement of his head, and a very slight change
+of voice, Colonel Massingbred intimated to the Viceroy that there was
+something for his private ear, and Lord Reckington stepped back to hear
+it. Nelligan, too deeply occupied in his own thoughts to remark the
+circumstance, stood in the same place, silent and motionless.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;It is to this passage,&rdquo; whispered the Secretary, &ldquo;I want to direct your
+Excellency's attention: 'All that I see here,' my son writes,&mdash;'all
+that I see here is a type of what is going on, at large, over the island.
+Old families uprooted, old ties severed; the people, with no other
+instinct than lawlessness, hesitating which side to take. Their old
+leaders, only bent upon the political, have forgotten the social struggle,
+and thus the masses are left without guidance or direction. It is my firm
+conviction that the Church of Rome will seize the happy moment to usurp an
+authority thus unclaimed, and the priest step in between the landlord and
+the demagogue; and it is equally my belief that you can only retard, not
+prevent, this consummation. If you should be of <i>my</i> opinion, and be
+able to induce his Excellency to think with us, act promptly and
+decisively. Enlist the Roman Catholic laity in your cause before you be
+driven to the harder compact of having to deal with the clergy. And first
+of all, make&mdash;for fortunately you have the vacancy,&mdash;make young
+Nelligan your solicitor-general.'&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+The Viceroy gave a slight start, and smiled. He had not, as yet,
+accustomed his mind to such bold exercise of his patronage. He lived,
+however, to get over this sensation.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;My son,&rdquo; resumed Massingbred, &ldquo;argues this at some length. If you permit,
+I 'll leave the letter in your Excellency's hands. In fact, I read it very
+hurriedly, and came over here the moment I glanced my eyes over this
+passage.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+His Excellency took the letter, and turned to address a word to Joe
+Nelligan, but he had left the spot.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Belcour,&rdquo; said the Viceroy, &ldquo;tell Mr. Nelligan I wish to speak to him. I
+shall be in the small drawing-room. I 'll talk with him alone.
+Massingbred, be ready to come when I shall send for you.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+The Viceroy sat alone by the fire, pondering over all he had heard. There
+was, indeed, that to ponder over, even in the brief, vague description of
+the writer. &ldquo;The difficulties of Ireland,&rdquo; as it was the fashion of the
+day to call them, were not such as government commissions discover, or
+blue books describe; they lay deeper than the legislative lead-line ever
+reaches,&mdash;many a fathom down below statutes and Acts of Parliament.
+They were in the instincts, the natures, the blood of a people who had
+never acknowledged themselves a conquered nation. Perhaps his Excellency
+lost himself in speculations, mazy and confused enough to addle deeper
+heads. Perhaps he was puzzled to think how he could bring the Cabinet to
+see these things, or the importance that pertained to them; who knows? At
+all events, time glided on, and still he was alone. At length the
+aide-de-camp appeared, and with an air of some confusion, said,&mdash;&ldquo;It
+would appear, my Lord, that Mr. Nelligan has gone away.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Why, he never said good-night; he did n't take leave of me!&rdquo; said the
+Viceroy, smiling.
+</p>
+<p>
+The aide-de-camp slightly elevated his brows, as though to imply his sense
+of what it might not have become him to characterize in words.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Very strange, indeed!&rdquo; repeated his Excellency; &ldquo;is n't it, Belcour?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Very strange, indeed, your Excellency,&rdquo; said the other, bowing.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;There could have been no disrespect in it,&rdquo; said his Lordship,
+good-humoredly; &ldquo;of <i>that</i> I'm quite certain. Send Colonel
+Massingbred here.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;He's gone off, Massingbred,&rdquo; said the Viceroy, as the other appeared.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;So I have just learned, my Lord. I conclude he was not aware&mdash;that
+he was unacquainted with&mdash;&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Oh, of course, Massingbred,&rdquo; broke in the Viceroy, laughing, &ldquo;the fault
+is all with my predecessors in office; they never invited these men as
+they ought to have done. Have you sounded M'Casky as to the appointment?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yes, my Lord; he thinks 'we might do worse.'&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;A qualified approval, certainly. Perhaps he meant we might select
+himself!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I rather opine, my Lord, that he regards Nelligan's promotion as likely
+to give offence to Mr. O'Connell, unless that he be himself consulted upon
+it.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Then comes the question, Who is it governs this country, Colonel
+Massingbred?&rdquo; said the Marquis; and for the first time a flash of angry
+meaning darkened his cheeks. &ldquo;If I be here,&rdquo;&mdash;he stopped and
+hesitated,&mdash;&ldquo;if you and I be here only to ratify appointments made by
+irresponsible individuals,&mdash;if we hold the reins of power only to be
+told where we 're to drive to,&mdash;I must own the office is not very
+dignified, nor am I patient enough to think it endurable.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;M'Casky only suggested that it might be advisable to see O'Connell on the
+subject, not, as it were, to pass him over in conferring the appointment.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I cannot at all concur in this view, Massingbred,&rdquo; said the Marquis,
+proudly; &ldquo;there could be no such humiliation in the world as a patronage
+administered in this wise. Write to Nelligan; write to him to-night. Say
+that his abrupt departure alone prevented my making to him personally the
+offer of the solicitorship; add that you have my directions to place the
+office in his hands, and express a strong wish, on your own part, that he
+may not decline it.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Massingbred bowed in acquiescence, and after a pause his Excellency went
+on:&mdash;
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;There would be no objection to your adding something to the effect that
+my selection of him was prompted by motives in which party has no share;
+that his acknowledged eminence at the bar,&mdash;a character to which even
+political opponents bear honorable testimony,&mdash;in fact, Massingbred,&rdquo;
+ added he, impatiently, &ldquo;if the appointment should come to be questioned in
+the House, let us have it on record that we made it solely on motives
+directed to the public service. You understand me?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I think so, my Lord,&rdquo; said Massingbred, and withdrew.
+</p>
+<p>
+If it were not that other cares and other interests call us away, we would
+gladly linger a little longer to speculate on the Viceroy's thoughts as he
+reseated himself by the fire. His brow was overcast and his features
+clouded. Was it that he felt he had entered the lists, and thrown down the
+glove to a strong and resolute opponent? Had he before him a vista of the
+terrible conflict between expediency and honor that was soon to be his
+fate? Had he his doubts as to the support his own Cabinet would afford
+him? Was his pride the ruling sentiment of the moment, or did there enter
+into his calculations the subtle hope of all the eager expectancy this
+appointment would create, all the disposable venality it would lay at his
+discretion? Who can answer these questions? who solve these doubts? Is it
+not very possible that his mind wandered amidst them all? Is it not more
+than likely that they passed in review before him? for when he rejoined
+his company his manner was more absent, his courtesy less easy than usual.
+</p>
+<p>
+At length Mr. M'Casky came forward to say goodnight.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Colonel Massingbred has told you of those disturbances in the West, has
+he not?&rdquo; asked the Viceroy.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yes, my Lord,&rdquo; replied the other.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And what opinion&mdash;what advice did you give?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;To let matters alone, my Lord; to be always a little behind time,
+particularly in sending a force. 'Never despatch the police to quell a
+riot,' said John Toler, 'unless one of the factions be completely beaten,
+otherwise you 'll have them both on your back;' and I assure your
+Excellency, Ireland has been very successfully governed under that maxim
+for years past.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Thank you, M'Casky; thank you for the advice,&rdquo; said his Excellency,
+laughing, and wished him good-night.
+</p>
+<p>
+<a name="link2HCH0034" id="link2HCH0034">
+<!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+</p>
+<div style="height: 4em;">
+<br /><br /><br /><br />
+</div>
+<h2>
+CHAPTER XXXIV. AN HONORED GUEST
+</h2>
+<p>
+It was a time of unusual stir and bustle at the Martin Arms; the house was
+crammed with company. Messengers&mdash;some mounted, others on foot&mdash;came
+and went at every moment; horses stood ready saddled and harnessed in the
+stables, in waiting for any emergency; in fact, there was a degree of
+movement and animation only second to that of a contested election. In the
+midst of this confusion a chaise with four smoking posters drew up at the
+door, and a sharp, clear voice called out,&mdash;&ldquo;Morrissy, are my rooms
+ready?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;No, indeed, Mr. Repton,&rdquo; stammered out the abashed landlord; &ldquo;the house
+is full; there's not a spot in it to put a child in.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You got my letter, I suppose?&rdquo; said Repton, angrily.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I did, sir, but it was too late; the whole house was engaged by Mr.
+Scanlan, and the same evening the company arrived in two
+coaches-and-four.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And who is the precious company you speak of?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Mr. Merl, sir,&rdquo; said the other, dropping his voice to a whisper, &ldquo;the new
+owner of Cro' Martin; he's here, with two or three great lawyers and one
+or two of his friends. They came down to serve the notices and give
+warning&mdash;&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Well, what is to be done? where can I be accommodated?&rdquo; broke in Repton,
+hastily. &ldquo;Isn't Mr. Massing-bred in the house?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;No, sir, he had to move out, too; but, sure enough, he left a bit of a
+note for you in the bar.&rdquo; And he hastened off at once to fetch it.
+</p>
+<p>
+Repton broke open the seal impatiently, and read:&mdash;
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;My dear Mr. Repton,&mdash;I regret that you 'll find the inn full on your
+arrival; they turned me out yesterday to make room for Mr. Merl and his
+followers. Happily, Mr. Nelligan heard of my destitution, and offered me a
+quarter at his house. He also desires me to say that he will deem it a
+very great favor if you will accept the shelter of his roof, and in
+hopeful anticipation of your consenting, he will wait dinner for your
+arrival. From my own knowledge, I can safely assure you that the offer is
+made in a spirit of true hospitality, and I sincerely wish that you may
+accept it.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yours very faithfully,
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;J. Massingbred.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Where does Mr. Nelligan live?&rdquo; asked Repton, as he refolded the letter.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Just across the street, sir. There it is.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Set me down there, then,&rdquo; said Repton. And the next moment he was at
+Nelligan's door.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;This is a very great honor, sir,&rdquo; said old Dan, as he appeared in a suit
+of decorous black. &ldquo;It is, indeed, a proud day that gives me the pleasure
+of seeing you here.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;My dear sir, if you had no other distinction than being the father of
+Joseph Nelligan, the honor and the pride lie all in the opposite scale. I
+am sincerely glad to be your guest, and to know you where every true
+Irishman is seen to the greatest advantage,&mdash;at the head of his own
+board.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+While Nelligan conducted his guest to his room, he mentioned that
+Massingbred had ridden over to Cro' Martin early in the morning, but would
+be certainly back for dinner.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And what 's the news of Miss Martin? Is she better?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;They say not, sir. The last accounts are far from favorable.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Sir Henry Laurie saw her, did n't he?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yes, sir; he passed all Sunday here, and only returned to town yesterday.
+He spoke doubtfully,&mdash;I might even say, gloomily. He said, however,
+that we cannot know anything for certain before Friday or, perhaps,
+Saturday.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;It is fever, then?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yes, he told my wife, the worst character of typhus.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Brought on, as I've been told, by exposure to wet and cold on that night
+at sea. Is n't that the case?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I believe so. Mrs. Nelligan went over the next morning to the cottage.
+She had heard of poor Mr. Martin's death, and thought she might be of some
+use to Miss Mary; but when she arrived, it was to find her in fever,
+talking wildly, and insisting that she must be up and away to Kyle-a-Noe
+to look after a poor sick family there.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Has Mrs. Nelligan seen her since that?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;She never left her,&mdash;never quitted her. She relieves Henderson's
+daughter in watching beside her bed; for the old housekeeper is quite too
+infirm to bear the fatigue.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;What a sad change has come over this little spot, and in so brief a space
+too! It seems just like yesterday that I was a guest at Cro' Martin,&mdash;poor
+Martin himself so happy and light-hearted; his dear girl, as he called
+her, full of life and spirits. Your son was there the night I speak of. I
+remember it well, for the madcap girls would make a fool of me, and
+insisted on my singing them a song; and I shall not readily forget the
+shame my compliance inflicted on my learned brother's face.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Joe told me of it afterwards.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Ah, he told you, did he? He doubtless remarked with asperity on the
+little sense of my own dignity I possessed?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;On the contrary, sir, he said, 'Great as are Mr. Rep-ton's gifts, and
+brilliant as are his acquirements, I envy him more the happy buoyancy of
+his nature than all his other qualities.'&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;He's a fine fellow, and it was a generous speech; not but I will be vain
+enough to say he was right,&mdash;ay, sir, perfectly right. Of all the
+blessings that pertain to temperament, there is not one to compare with
+the spirit that renews in an old man the racy enjoyment of youth, keeps
+his heart fresh and his mind hopeful. With these, age brings no terrors. I
+shall be seventy-five, sir, if I live to the second of next month, and I
+have not lived long enough to dull the enjoyment life affords me, nor
+diminish the pleasure my heart derives upon hearing of a noble action or a
+generous sentiment.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Nelligan gazed at the speaker in mingled astonishment and admiration.
+Somehow, it was not altogether the man he had expected; but he was far
+from being disappointed at the difference. The Valentine Repton of his
+imagination was a crafty pleader, a subtle cross-examiner, an ingenious
+flatterer of juries; but he was not a man whose nature was assailable by
+anything &ldquo;not found in the books.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Now, though Nelligan was himself essentially a worldly man, he was touched
+by these traits of one whom he had regarded as a hardened old lawyer,
+distrustful and suspicious.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Ay, sir,&rdquo; said Repton, as, leaning on the other's arm, he entered the
+drawing-room, &ldquo;a wiser man than either of us has left it on record, that
+after a long life and much experience of the world, he met far more of
+good and noble qualities in mankind than of their opposite. Take my word
+for it, whenever we are inclined to the contrary opinion, the fault lies
+with ourselves.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+While they sat awaiting Massingbred's return, a servant entered with a
+note, which Nelligan, having read, handed over to Repton. It was very
+brief, and ran thus:&mdash;
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;My dear Mr. Nelligan,&mdash;Forgive my not appearing at dinner, and make
+my excuses to Mr. Repton, if he be with you, for I have just fallen in
+with Magennis, who insists on carrying me off to Barnagheela. You can
+understand, I 'm sure, that there are reasons why I could not well decline
+this invitation. Meanwhile, till to-morrow, at breakfast,
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I am yours,
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Jack Massingbred.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+If there was a little constraint on Nelligan's part at finding himself
+alone to do the honors to his distinguished guest, the feeling soon wore
+away, and a frank, hearty confidence was soon established between these
+two men, who up to the present moment had been following very different
+roads in life. Apart from a lurking soreness, the remnants of long-past
+bitterness, Nelligan's political opinions were fair and moderate, and
+agreed with Repton's now to a great extent. His views as to the people,
+their habits and their natures, were also strikingly just and true. He was
+not over-hopeful, nor was he despondent; too acute an observer to refer
+their faults to any single source, he regarded their complex, intricate
+characters as the consequence of many causes, the issue of many struggles.
+There was about all he said the calm judgment of a man desirous of truth;
+and yet, when he came to speak of the higher classes, the great country
+gentry, he displayed prejudices and mistakes quite incredible in one of
+his discernment. The old grudge of social disqualification had eaten deep
+into his heart, and, as Repton saw, it would take at least two generations
+of men, well-to-do and successful, to eradicate the sentiment.
+</p>
+<p>
+Nelligan was quick enough to see that these opinions of his were not
+shared by his guest, and said, &ldquo;I cannot expect, Mr. Repton, that you will
+join me in these views; you have seen these people always as an equal, if
+not their superior; they met <i>you</i> with their best faces and sweetest
+flatteries. Not so with us. They draw a line, as though to say, go on:
+make your fortunes; purchase estates; educate your children; send them to
+the universities with our own; teach them our ways, our instincts, our
+manners, and yet, at the end of all, you shall remain exactly where you
+began. You shall never be 'of us.'&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I am happy to say that I disagree with you,&rdquo; said Repton; &ldquo;I am a much
+older man than you, and I can draw, therefore, on a longer experience. Now
+the change that I myself have seen come over the tone and temper of the
+world since I was a boy is far more marvellous to me than all the
+new-fangled discoveries around us in steam and electricity. Why, sir, the
+man who now addresses you, born of an ancient stock, as good blood as any
+untitled gentleman of the land, was treated once as Jack Cade might be in
+a London drawing-room. The repute of liberal notions or politics at that
+day stamped you as a democrat and atheist If you sided with a popular
+measure, you were deemed capable of all the crimes of a 'Danton.'
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Do I not remember it!&mdash;Ay, as a student, young, ardent, and
+high-hearted, when I was summoned before the visitors of the university,
+and sternly asked by the dark-browed Lord Chancellor if I belonged to a
+society called the 'Friends of Ireland,' and on my acknowledging the fact,
+without inquiry, without examination, deprived of my scholarship, and sent
+back to my chambers, admonished to be more cautious, and menaced with
+expulsion. I had very little to live on in those days; my family had
+suffered great losses in fortune, and I disliked to be a burden to them. I
+took pupils, therefore, to assist me in my support. The Vice-Provost
+stepped in, however, and interdicted this. 'Young men,' he said, 'ran a
+greater chance of coming out of my hands followers of Paine than disciples
+of Newton.' I starved on till I was called to the bar. There fresh insults
+and mortifications met me. My name on a brief seemed a signal for a
+field-day against Jacobinism and infidelity. The very bench forgot its
+dignity in its zeal. I remember well one day, when, stung and maddened by
+these outrages, I so far forgot myself as to reply, and the Court of
+King's Bench was closed against me for twelve long years,&mdash;ay, till I
+came back to it as the first man in my profession. It was a trumpery
+cause,&mdash;I forget what; a suit about some petty bill of exchange. I
+disputed the evidence, and sought to show its invalidity. The Chief
+Justice stopped me, and said, 'The Court is aware of the point on which
+you rely; we have known evidence of this nature admitted in cases of trial
+for treason,&mdash;cases with which Mr. Repton, we know, is very familiar.
+I stopped; my blood boiled with indignation, my temples throbbed to
+bursting, to be thus singled out amongst my brethren&mdash;before the
+public&mdash;as a mark of scorn and reprobation. 'It is true, my Lord,'
+said I, with a slow, measured utterance, 'I am familiar with such cases.
+Who is there in this unhappy land that is not? I am aware, too, that if I
+stood in that dock arraigned on such a charge, your Lordship would rule
+that this evidence was admissible; you would charge against me, sentence,
+and hang me; but the present is an action for eleven pounds ten, and,
+therefore, I trust to your Lordship's lenity and mercy to reject it.'
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;That reply, sir, cost me twelve years of exile from the court wherein I
+uttered it. Those were times when the brow-beating judge could crush the
+bar; nor were the jury always safe in the sanctuary of the jury-box. Now,
+such abuses are no longer in existence; and if we have made no other
+stride in progress, even that is considerable.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;In all that regards the law and its administration, I am sure you are
+correct, sir,&rdquo; said Nelligan, submissively.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;At the period I speak of,&rdquo; resumed Repton, who now was only following out
+his own thoughts and reminiscences, &ldquo;the judges were little else than
+prefects, administering the country through the channel of the penal code,
+and the jury a set of vulgar partisans, who wielded the power of a verdict
+with all the caprice of a faction; and as to their ignorance, why, sir,
+Crookshank, who afterwards sat on the bench, used to tell of a trial for
+murder at Kells, where the 'murdered man' was two hours under
+cross-examination on the table! Yes, but that is not all; the jury retired
+to deliberate, and came out at length with a verdict of 'manslaughter,' as
+the prisoner was 'a bad fellow, and had once stolen a saddle from the
+foreman.' You talk of law and civilization; why, I tell you, sir, that the
+barbaric code of the red man is a higher agent of enlightenment than the
+boasted institutions of England, when thus perverted and degraded. No, no,
+Mr. Nelligan, it may be a fine theme for declamation, there may be grand
+descriptive capabilities about the Ireland of sixty or seventy years ago,
+but be assured, it was a social chaos of the worst kind; and as a maxim,
+sir, remember, that the inhabitants of a country are never so much to be
+pitied as when the aspect of their social condition is picturesque!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Repton fell into a musing fit when he had finished these observations, and
+Nelligan felt too much deference for his guest to disturb him, and they
+sat thus silent for some time, when the old lawyer suddenly arousing
+himself, said,&mdash;&ldquo;What's all this I hear about disturbances, and
+attacks on the police, down here?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;There's nothing political in it,&rdquo; rejoined Nelligan. &ldquo;It was resistance
+offered by the people to the service of certain notices on the part of
+this London Jew&mdash;Merl, I think they call him.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yes, that's the name,&rdquo; quickly responded Repton. &ldquo;You are aware of the
+circumstances under which he claims the estate?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I had it from Brierley, who was told by Scanlan, that he purchased, or
+rather won at play, the entire and sole reversion.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Repton nodded.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And such is a legal compact, I presume?&rdquo; said Nelligan.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;If the immoral obligation be well concealed in the negotiation, I don't
+see how it is to be broken. The law, sir,&rdquo; added he, solemnly, &ldquo;never
+undertakes the charge of fools till a commission be taken out in their
+behalf! This young fellow's pleasure it was to squander his succession to
+a princely estate, and he chanced to meet with one who could appreciate
+his intentions.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Massingbred told me, however, that some arrangement, some compromise was
+in contemplation; that Merl, knowing that to enforce his claim would
+subject him to a trial and all its disclosures, had shown a disposition to
+treat; in fact, Massingbred has already had an interview with him, and but
+for Scanlan, who desires to push matters to extremity, the affair might
+possibly be accommodated.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;The Jew possibly sees, too, that an Irish succession is not a bloodless
+triumph. He has been frightened, I have no doubt.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I believe so; they say he took to his bed the day he got back here, and
+has never quitted it since. The people hunted them for four miles across
+the country, and as Merl couldn't leap his horse over the walls, they were
+several times nearly caught by the delay in making gaps for him.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I'd have given fifty pounds to be in at it,&rdquo; broke out Repton. Then
+suddenly remembering that the aspiration did not sound as very dignified,
+he hemmed and corrected himself, saying, &ldquo;It must, indeed, have been a
+strange spectacle!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;They started at Kyle's Wood, and ran them over the low grounds beside
+Kelly's Mills, and then doubling, brought them along the foot of
+Barnagheela Mountain, where, it seems, Magennis joined the chase; he was
+fast closing with them when his gun burst, and rather damaged his hand.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;He fired, then?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+<a name="linkimage-0015" id="linkimage-0015">
+<!-- IMG --></a>
+</p>
+<div class="fig" style="width:80%;">
+<img src="images/368.jpg" width="100%" alt="368 " />
+</div>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yes, he put a heavy charge of slugs into Merl's horse as he was getting
+through the mill-race, and the beast flung up and threw his rider into the
+stream. Scanlan dismounted and gathered him up, discharging his pistol at
+some country fellow who was rushing forward; they say the man has lost an
+eye. They got off, however, and, gaining the shelter of the Cro' Martin
+wood, they managed to escape at last, and reached this about six o'clock,
+their clothes in tatters, their horses lamed, and themselves lamentable
+objects of fatigue and exhaustion. Since that, no one but the doctor has
+seen Merl, and Scanlan only goes out with an escort of police.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;All this sounds very like 'sixty years ago,'&rdquo; said Repton, laughing.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I'm afraid it does, and I half dread what the English newspapers may say
+under the heading of 'Galway Barbarities.'&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;By Jove! I must say I like it; that is,&rdquo; said Repton, hesitating and
+confused, &ldquo;I can see some palliation for the people in such an outburst of
+generous but misdirected feeling. The old name has still its spell for
+their hearts; and even superstitions, sir, are better than incredulity!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;But of what avail is all this? The law must and will be vindicated. It
+may cost some lives, on the road, but Mr. Merl must reach his journey's
+end, at last.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;He may deem the sport, as I have known some men do tiger-hunting, not
+worth the danger,&rdquo; said Repton. &ldquo;You and I, Mr. Nelligan, acclimated, as I
+may say, to such incidents, would probably not decline the title to an
+estate, whose first step in possession should be enforced by the
+blunderbuss; but make the scene Africa, and say what extent of territory
+would you accept of, on the compact of enforcing your claim against the
+natives? Now, for all the purposes of argument, to this cockney's
+appreciation, these countrymen of ours are Africans.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I can well understand his terror,&rdquo; said Nelligan, thoughtfully. &ldquo;I 'm
+sure the yell that followed him through the gap of Kyle-a-Noe will ring in
+his heart for many a day. It was there the pursuit was hottest. As they
+came out, a stranger, who had been here during the winter,&mdash;a Mr.
+Barry&mdash;&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;What of <i>him?</i> What did <i>he</i> do?&rdquo; broke in Repton, with great
+eagerness.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;He stood upon an old wall, and hurrahed the people on, calling out, 'Five
+gold guineas to the man who will hurl that fellow into the lake.'&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;He said that?&rdquo; cried Repton.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yes, and waved his hat in encouragement to the mob! This was deposed in
+evidence before the bench; and Scanlan's affidavit went on to say, that
+when the temper of the people seemed to relent, and the ardor of their
+pursuit to relax, this man's presence invariably rallied all the energies
+of mischief, and excited the wildest passions of the populace.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Who or what is he supposed to be?&rdquo; asked the lawyer.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Some say, a returned convict,&mdash;a banker that was transported thirty
+years ago for forgery; others, that he is Con O'Hara, that killed Major
+Stackpoole in the famous duel at Bunratty Castle. Magennis swears that he
+remembers the face well; at all events, there is a mystery about him, and
+when he came into the shop below stairs&mdash;&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Oh, then, you have seen him yourself?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yes; he came in on Monday last, and asked for some glazed gunpowder, and
+if we had bullets of a large mould to fit his pistols. They were
+curiosities in their way; they were made in America, and had a bore large
+as your thumb.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You had some conversation with him?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;A few words about the country and the crops. He said he thought we had
+good prospects for the wheat, and, if we should have a fine harvest, a
+good winter was like to follow. Meaning that, with enough to eat, we
+should have fewer outrages in the dark nights, and by that I knew he was
+one acquainted with the country. I said as much, and then he turned
+fiercely on me, and remarked, 'I never questioned you, sir, about your
+hides and tallow and ten-penny nails, for they were <i>your</i> affairs;
+please, then, to pay the same deference to <i>me</i> and <i>mine</i>.' And
+before I could reply he was gone.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;It was a rude speech,&rdquo; said Repton, thoughtfully; &ldquo;but many men are
+morose from circumstances whose natures are full of kindliness and
+gentleness.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;It was precisely the impression this stranger made upon me. There was
+that in his manner which implied a hard lot in life,&mdash;no small share
+of the shadiest side of fortune; and even when his somewhat coarse rebuke
+was uttered, I was more disposed to be angry with myself for being the
+cause than with him who made it.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Where is he stopping just now?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;At Kilkieran, I have heard; but he has been repeatedly back and forward
+in the town here during the week, though for the last few days I have not
+seen him. Perhaps he has heard of Scanlan's intention to summons him for
+aiding and abetting an assault, and has kept out of the way in
+consequence.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;<i>He</i> keep out of the way!&rdquo; cried Repton; &ldquo;you never mistook a man
+more in your life!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You are acquainted with him, then?&rdquo; said Nelligan, in amazement.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;That am I, sir. No one knows him better, and on my knowledge of the man
+it was that I apologized for his incivility to yourself. If I cannot say
+more, Mr. Nelligan, it is not because I have any mistrust in your
+confidence, but that my friend's secret is, in his own charge, and only to
+be revealed at his own pleasure.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I wish you would tell him that I never meant to play the spy upon him,&mdash;that
+my remark was a merely chance observation&mdash;&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I promise you to do so,&rdquo; broke in Repton. &ldquo;I promise you still more, that
+before he leaves this you shall have an apology from his own lips for his
+accidental rudeness; nay, two men that would know how to respect each
+other should never part under even a passing misunderstanding. It is an
+old theory of mine, Mr. Nelligan, that good men's good opinions of us form
+the pleasantest store of our reminiscences, and I 'd willingly go a
+hundred miles to remove a misconception that might bring me back to the
+esteem of an honorable heart, though I never were to set eyes again on him
+who possessed it.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I like your theory well, sir,&rdquo; said Nelligan, cordially.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You 'll find the practice will reward you,&rdquo; said Repton.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I confess this stranger has inspired me with great curiosity.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I can well understand the feeling,&rdquo; said Repton, musing. &ldquo;It is with men
+as with certain spots in landscape, there are chance glimpses which
+suggest to us the fair scenes that lie beyond our view! Poor fellow! poor
+fellow!&rdquo; muttered he once or twice to himself; and then starting abruptly,
+said, &ldquo;You have made me so cordially welcome here that I am going to
+profit by every privilege of a guest. I 'm going to say good-night, for I
+have much before me on the morrow.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+<a name="link2HCH0035" id="link2HCH0035">
+<!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+</p>
+<div style="height: 4em;">
+<br /><br /><br /><br />
+</div>
+<h2>
+CHAPTER XXXV. HOW DIPLOMACY FAILED
+</h2>
+<p>
+Repton was up at daybreak, and at his desk. Immense folios littered the
+table, and even the floor around him, and the old lawyer sat amidst a
+chaos that it was difficult to believe was only the growth of an hour or
+two. All the intentness of his occupation, however, did not prevent him
+hearing a well-known voice in the little stable-yard beneath his window,
+and opening the sash he called out, &ldquo;Mas-singbred, is that you?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Ah, Mr. Repton, are you stirring so early? I had not expected to see you
+for at least two hours to come. May I join you?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;By all means; at once,&rdquo; was the answer. And the next moment they were
+together. &ldquo;Where's Barry? When did you see him last?&rdquo; was Repton's first
+question.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;For a moment, on Tuesday last; he came up here to learn if you had
+arrived, or when you might be expected. He seemed disappointed when I said
+not before the latter end of the week, and muttered something about being
+too late. He seemed flurried and excited. I heard afterwards that he had
+been somehow mixed up with that tumultuous assemblage that resisted the
+police, and I offered to go back with him to Kilkieran, but he stopped me
+short, saying, 'I am not at Kilkieran;' and so abruptly as to show that my
+proposal was not acceptable. He then sat down and wrote a short letter,
+which he desired me to give you on arriving; but to deliver it with my own
+hand, as, if any reply were necessary, I should be ready to carry it to
+him. This is the letter.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Repton read it rapidly, and then, walking to the window, stood pondering
+over the contents.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You know this man Merl, don't you, Massingbred?&rdquo; asked Repton.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yes, thoroughly.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;The object of this letter is to try one last chance for an arrangement.
+Barry suspects that the Jew's ambition for Irish proprietorship may have
+been somewhat dashed by the experience of the last few days; that he will
+be likely enough to weigh the advantages and disadvantages with a juster
+appreciation than if he had never come here, and, if such be the case, we
+are ready to meet with a fair and equitable offer. We'll repay him all
+that he advanced in cash to young Martin, and all that he won from him at
+play, if he surrender his reversionary claim. We'll ask no questions as to
+how this loan was made, or how that debt incurred. It shall be the
+briefest of all transactions,&mdash;a sum in simple addition, and a check
+for the total.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;He'll refuse,&mdash;flatly refuse it,&rdquo; said Massingbred. &ldquo;The very offer
+will restore any confidence the last few days may have shaken; he'll judge
+the matter like the shares of a stock that are quoted higher in the
+market.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You think so?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I'm sure of it. I'm ashamed to say, Mr. Repton, that my knowledge of the
+Herman Merl class may be greater than yours. It is the one solitary point
+in the realm of information wherein I am probably your superior.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;There are others, and of a very different order, in which I would own you
+the master,&rdquo; said Repton. &ldquo;But to our case. Suppose,&mdash;a mere
+supposition, if you like,&mdash;but suppose that it could be demonstrated
+to Mr. Merl that his claim will be not only resisted, but defeated; that
+the right on which he relies is valueless,&mdash;the deed not worth the
+stamps it bears; that this offer is made to avoid a publicity and exposure
+far more injurious to him than to those who now shrink from it. What think
+you then?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Simply that he'd not believe it! He'd say, and many others would say, 'If
+the right lay so incontestably with these others, they 'd not give some
+twenty thousand pounds to compromise what they could enforce for the mere
+cost of a trial.'&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Mr. Massingbred, too, would perhaps take the same view of the
+transaction,&rdquo; said Repton, half tartly.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Not if Mr. Repton assured me that he backed the opposite opinion,&rdquo; said
+Jack, politely.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I thank you heartily for that speech,&rdquo; said the old man, as he grasped
+the other's hand cordially; &ldquo;you deserve, and shall have my fullest
+confidence.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;May I ask,&rdquo; said Jack, &ldquo;if this offer to buy off Merl be made in the
+interest of the Martins, for otherwise I really see no great object, so
+far as they are concerned, in the change of mastery?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You'll have to take <i>my</i> word for that,&rdquo; said Repton, &ldquo;or rather, to
+take the part I assume in this transaction as the evidence of it; and now,
+as I see that you are satisfied, will you accept of the duty of this
+negotiation? Will you see and speak with Merl? Urge upon him all the
+arguments your own ingenuity will furnish, and when you come, if you
+should be so driven, to the coercive category, and that you want the siege
+artillery, then send for <i>me</i>. Depend upon it, it will be no <i>brutum
+fulmen</i> that I 'll bring up; nor will I, as Pelham said, fire with
+'government powder.' My cannon shall be inscribed, like those of the old
+volunteers, independence or&mdash;&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+At any other moment Jack might have smiled at the haughty air and martial
+stride of the old man, as, stimulated by his words, he paced the room; but
+there was a sincerity and a resolution about him that offered no scope for
+ridicule. His very features wore a look of intrepidity that bespoke the
+courage that animated him.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Now, Massingbred,&rdquo; said he, laying his hand on the young man's arm, &ldquo;it
+is only because I am not free to tell another man's secret that I do not
+at once place you fully in possession of all I myself know of this
+transaction; but rely on it, you shall be informed on every point, and
+immediately after the issue of this negotiation with Merl, whatever be the
+result, you shall stand on the same footing with myself.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You cannot suppose that I exact this confidence?&rdquo; began Jack.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I only know it is your due, sir,&rdquo; said Repton. &ldquo;Go now,&mdash;it is not
+too early; see this man, and let the meeting be of the briefest, for if I
+were to tell you my own mind, I'd say I'd rather he should reject our
+offer.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You are, I own, a little incomprehensible this morning,&rdquo; said
+Massingbred, &ldquo;but I am determined to yield you a blind obedience; and so
+I'm off.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I 'll wait breakfast for you,&rdquo; said Repton, as he reseated himself to his
+work.
+</p>
+<p>
+Repton requested Mr. Nelligan's permission to have his breakfast served in
+his own room, and sat for a long time impatiently awaiting Massingbred's
+return. He was at one time aroused by a noise below stairs, but it was not
+the announcement of him he looked for; and he walked anxiously to and fro
+in his chamber, each moment adding to the uneasiness that he felt.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Who was it that arrived half an hour ago?&rdquo; asked he of the servant.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Mr. Joe, sir, the counsellor, has just come from Dublin, and is at
+breakfast with the master.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Ah! he 's come, is he? So much the better,&rdquo; muttered Repton, &ldquo;we may want
+his calm, clear head to assist us here; not that we shall have to fear a
+contest,&mdash;there is no enemy in the field,&mdash;and if there were,
+Val Repton is ready to meet him!&rdquo; And the old man crossed his arms, and
+stood erect in all the consciousness of his undiminished vigor. &ldquo;Here he
+comes at last,&mdash;I know his step on the stair.&rdquo; And he flung open the
+door for Massingbred.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I read failure in your flushed cheek, Massingbred; failure and anger
+both, eh?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Massingbred tried to smile. If there was any quality on which he
+especially prided himself, it was the bland semblance of equanimity he
+could assume in circumstances of difficulty and irritation. It was his
+boast to be able to hide his most intense emotions at moments of passion,
+and there was a period in which, indeed, he wielded this acquirement. Of
+later times, however, he had grown more natural and impulsive; he had not
+yet lost the sense of pain this yielding occasioned, and it was with
+evident irritation that he found Repton had read his thoughts.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You perceive, then, that I am unsuccessful?&rdquo; said he, with a faint smile.
+&ldquo;So much the better if my face betrays me; it will save a world of
+explanation!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Make your report, sir, and I'll make the tea,&rdquo; said Repton, as he
+proceeded to that office.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;The fellow was in bed,&mdash;he refused to see me, and it was only by
+some insistence that I succeeded in gaining admittance. He has had leeches
+to his temples. He was bruised, it seems, when he fell, but far more
+frightened than hurt. He looks the very picture of terror, and lies with a
+perfect armory of pistols beside his bed. Scanlan was there, and thought
+to remain during our interview; but I insisted on his withdrawing, and he
+went. The amiable attorney, somehow, has a kind of respect for me that is
+rather amusing. As for Merl, he broke out into a vulgar tirade of passion,
+abused the country and the people, cursed the hour he came amongst them,
+and said, if he only knew the nature of the property before he made his
+investment, he 'd rather have purchased Guatemala bonds, or Santa Fé
+securities.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;'Then I have come fortunately,' said I, 'for I bring you an offer to
+reimburse all your outlay, and to rid you of a charge so little to your
+inclination.'
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;'Oh! you do, do you?' said he, with one of his cunningest leers. 'You may
+not be able, perhaps, to effect that bargain, though. It's one thing to
+pay down a smart sum of money and wait your time for recovering it, and
+it's another to surrender your compact when the hour of acquisition has
+arrived. I bought this reversion&mdash;at least, I paid the first
+instalment of the price&mdash;four years ago, when the late man's life was
+worth twenty years' purchase. Well, he 's gone now, and do you think that
+I 'm going to give up my claim for what it cost me?'
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I gently insinuated that the investigation of the claim might lead to
+unpleasant revelations. There were various incidents of the play-table,
+feasible and successful enough after a supper with champagne, and in the
+short hours before day, which came off with an ill-grace on the table of a
+court of justice, with three barons of the exchequer to witness them. That
+I myself might prove an awkward evidence, if unhappily cited to appear;
+that of my own knowledge I could mention three young fellows of good
+fortune who had been drained to their last shilling in his company. In
+fact, we were both remarkably candid with each other, and while <i>I</i>
+reminded <i>him</i> of some dark passages at <i>écarté, he</i> brought to
+<i>my</i> memory certain protested bills and dishonored notes that 'non
+jucundum esset meminisse.' I must say, for both of us, we did the thing
+well, and in good breeding; we told and listened to our several
+shortcomings with a temper that might have graced a better cause, and I
+defy the world to produce two men who could have exchanged the epithets of
+swindler and scamp with more thorough calm and good manners. Unhappily,
+however, high as one rises in his own esteem by such contests, he scarcely
+makes the same ascent in that of his neighbor, and so we came, in our
+overflowing frankness, to admit to each other more of our respective
+opinions than amounts to flattery. I believe, and, indeed, I hope, I
+should have maintained my temper to the end, had not the fellow pretty
+broadly insinuated that some motive of personal advantage had prompted my
+interference, and actually pushed his insolence so far as to insinuate
+that 'I should make a better thing' by adhering to his fortunes.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Repton started at these words, and Massingbred resumed: &ldquo;True, upon my
+honor; I exaggerate nothing. It was a gross outrage, and very difficult to
+put up with; so I just expressed my sincere regret that instead of being
+in bed he was not up and stirring, inasmuch as I should have tried what
+change of air might have done for him, by pitching him out of the window.
+He tugged violently at the bell-rope, as though I were about to execute my
+menace, and so I left him. My diplomacy has, therefore, been a sad
+failure. I only hope that I may not have increased the difficulty of the
+case by my treatment of it.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You never thought of <i>me</i> at all, then?&rdquo; asked Repton.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Never, till I was once more in the street; then I remembered something of
+what you said about coercive means, but of what avail a mere menace? This
+fellow is not new to such transactions,&mdash;he has gone through all the
+phases of 'bulleydom.' Besides, there is a dash of Shylock in every Jew
+that ever breathed. They will 'have their bond,' unless it can be
+distinctly proved to them that the thing is impossible.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Now then for our breaching battery,&rdquo; said Repton, rising and pacing the
+room. &ldquo;This attempt at a compromise never had any favor in my eyes; Barry
+wished it, and I yielded. Now for a very different course. Can you find a
+saddle-horse here? Well, then, be ready to set out in half an hour, and
+search out Barry for me. He'll be found at Kilkieran, or the neighborhood;
+say we must meet at once; arrange time and place for the conference, and
+come back to me.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Repton issued his directions with an air of command, and Massingbred
+prepared as implicitly to obey them.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Mr. Nelligan has lent me his own pad,&rdquo; said Massingbred, entering soon
+after, &ldquo;and his son will accompany me, so that I am at your orders at
+once.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;There are your despatches,&rdquo; said Repton, giving him a sealed packet. &ldquo;Let
+me see you here as soon as may be.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+<a name="link2HCH0036" id="link2HCH0036">
+<!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+</p>
+<div style="height: 4em;">
+<br /><br /><br /><br />
+</div>
+<h2>
+CHAPTER XXXVI. A GREAT DISCOVERY
+</h2>
+<p>
+About an hour after Massingbred's departure for Kilkieran, Mr. Repton set
+out for Cro' Martin Castle. The inn had furnished him its best chaise and
+four of its primest horses; and had the old lawyer been disposed to enjoy
+the pleasure which a great moralist has rated so highly, of rapid motion
+through the air, he might have been gratified on that occasion. Unhappily,
+however, he was not so minded. Many and very serious cares pressed upon
+him. He was travelling a road, too, which he had so often journeyed in
+high spirits, fancying to himself the pleasant welcome before him, and
+even rehearsing to his own mind the stores of agreeability he was to
+display,&mdash;and now it was to a deserted mansion, lonely and desolate,
+he was turning! Death and ruin both had done their work on that ancient
+family, whose very name in the land seemed already hastening to oblivion!
+</p>
+<p>
+Few men could resist the influence of depression better than Repton. It
+was not alone that his temperament was still buoyant and energetic, but
+the habits of his profession had taught him the necessity of being
+prepared for emergencies, and he would have felt it a dereliction of duty
+were his sentiments to overmaster his power of action.
+</p>
+<p>
+Still, as he went along, the well-known features of the spot would recall
+memories of the past. There lay a dense wood, of which he remembered the
+very day, the very hour, poor Martin had commenced the planting. There was
+the little trout-stream, where, under pretence of fishing, he had lounged
+along the summer day, with Horace for his companion; that, the
+school-house Mary had sketched, and built out of her own pocket-money. And
+now the great massive gates slowly opened, and they were within the
+demesne,&mdash;all silent and noiseless. As they came in sight of the
+castle, Repton covered his face with his hands, and sat for some minutes
+thus. Then, as if mastering his emotion, he raised his head and folded his
+arms on his chest.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You are true to time, I perceive, Dr. Leslie,&rdquo; said he, as the chaise
+stopped at the door and the venerable clergyman came forward to greet him.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I got your note last night, sir, but I determined not to keep you
+waiting, for I perceive you say that time is precious now.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I thank you heartily,&rdquo; said Repton, as he shook the other's hand. &ldquo;I am
+grateful to you also for being here to meet me, for I begin to feel my
+courage fail me as to crossing that threshold again!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Age has its penalties as well as its blessings, sir,&rdquo; said Leslie, &ldquo;and
+amongst these is to outlive those dear to us!&rdquo; There was a painful
+significance to his own desolate condition that made these words doubly
+impressive.
+</p>
+<p>
+Repton made no reply, but pulled the bell strongly; and the loud, deep
+sounds rung out clearly through the silent house. After a brief interval a
+small window above the door was opened, and a man with a blunderbuss in
+his hand sternly demanded their business.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Oh, I ax pardon, sir,&rdquo; said he, as suddenly correcting himself. &ldquo;I
+thought it was that man that 's come to take the place,&mdash;'the Jew,'
+they call him,&mdash;and Mr. Magennis said I was n't to let him in, or one
+belonging to him.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;No, Barney, we are not his friends,&rdquo; said Dr. Leslie; &ldquo;this is Mr.
+Repton.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Sure I know the Counsellor well, sir,&rdquo; said Barney. &ldquo;I 'll be down in a
+minute and open the door.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I must go to work at once,&rdquo; said Repton, in a low and somewhat broken
+voice, &ldquo;or this place will be too much for me. Every step I go is calling
+up old times and old scenes. I had thought my heart was of sterner stuff.
+Isn't this the way to the library? No, not that way,&mdash;that was poor
+Martin's own breakfast-room!&rdquo; He spoke hurriedly, like one who wished to
+suppress emotion by very activity of thought.
+</p>
+<p>
+While the man who conducted them opened the window-shutters and the
+windows, Repton and his companion sat down without speaking. At last he
+withdrew, and Repton, rising, said,&mdash;&ldquo;Some of the happiest hours of
+my life were passed in this same room. I used to come up here after the
+fatigues of circuit, and, throwing myself into one of those easy-chairs,
+dream away for a day or two, gazing out on that bold mountain yonder,
+above the trees, and wondering how those fellows who never relaxed, in
+this wise, could sustain the wear and tear of life; for that junketing to
+Harrow-gate, that rattling, noisy steamboating up the Rhine, that Cockney
+heroism of Swiss travel, is my aversion. The calm forenoon for thought,
+the pleasant dinner-table for genial enjoyment afterwards,&mdash;these are
+true recreations. And what evenings we have had here! But I must not dwell
+on these.&rdquo; And now he threw upon the table a mass of papers and letters,
+amongst which he sought out one, from which he took a small key. &ldquo;Dr.
+Leslie,&rdquo; said he, &ldquo;you might have been assured that I have not called upon
+you to meet me to-day without a sufficient reason. I know that, from
+certain causes, of which I am not well informed, you were not on terms of
+much intimacy with my poor friend here. This is not a time to think of
+these things; <i>you</i>, I am well assured, will never remember them.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Leslie made a motion of assent; and the other went on, his voice gradually
+gaining in strength and fulness, and his whole manner by degrees assuming
+the characteristic of the lawyer.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;To the few questions to which I will ask your answers, now, I have to
+request all your attention. They are of great importance; they may, very
+probably, be re-asked of you under more solemn circumstances; and I have
+to bespeak, not alone all your accuracy for the replies, but that you may
+be able, if asked, to state the manner and even the words in which I now
+address you.&mdash;You have been the incumbent of this parish for a length
+of time,&mdash;what number of years?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Sixty-three. I was appointed to the vicarage on my ordination, and never
+held any other charge.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You knew the late Darcy Martin, father of the last proprietor of this
+estate?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Intimately.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You baptized his two children, born at the same birth. State what you
+remember of the circumstance.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I was sent for to the castle to give a private baptism to the two
+infants, and requested that I would bring the vestry-book along with me
+for the registration. I did so. The children were accordingly christened,
+and their births duly registered and witnessed.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Can you remember the names by which they were called?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Not from the incident in question, though I know the names from
+subsequent knowledge of them, as they grew up to manhood.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;What means, if any, were adopted at the time to distinguish the priority
+of birth?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;The eldest was first baptized, and his birth specially entered in the
+vestry-book as such; all the witnesses who signed the entry corroborating
+the fact by special mention of it under their signature. We also heard
+that the child wore a gold bracelet on one arm; but I did not remark it.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You have this vestry-book in your keeping?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;No; Mr. Martin retained it, with some object of more formal registration.
+I repeatedly asked for it, but never could obtain it. At length some
+coolness grew up between us, and I could not, or did not wish to press my
+demand; and at last it lapsed entirely from my memory, so that from that
+day I never saw it.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You could, however, recognize it, and be able to verify your signature?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Certainly.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Was there, so far as you could see, any marked distinction made between
+the children while yet young?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I can remember that at the age of three or four the eldest boy wore a
+piece of red or blue ribbon on his sleeve; but any other mark I never
+observed. They were treated, so far as I could perceive, precisely alike;
+and their resemblance to each other was then so striking, it would have
+been a matter of great nicety to distinguish them. Even at school, I am
+told, mistakes constantly occurred, and one boy once received the
+punishment incurred by the other.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;As they grew up, you came to recognize the eldest by his name?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yes. Old Mr. Darcy Martin used to take the elder boy more about with him.
+He was then a child of ten or eleven years old. He was particular in
+calling attention to him, saying, 'This fellow is to be my heir; he 'll be
+the Martin of Cro' Martin yet'&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And what name did the boy bear?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Godfrey,&mdash;Godfrey Martin. The second boy's name was Barry.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You are sure of this?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Quite sure. I have dined a number of times at the castle, when Godfrey
+was called in after dinner, and the other boy was generally in disgrace;
+and I could remark that his father spoke of him in a tone of irritation
+and bitterness, which he did not employ towards the other.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Mr. Martin died before his sons came of age?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yes; they were only nineteen at his death.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;He made a will, I believe, to which you were a witness?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I was; but somehow the will was lost or mislaid, and it was only by a
+letter to the Honorable Colonel Forbes, of Lisvally, that Martin's
+intentions about appointing him guardian to his elder boy were
+ascertained. I myself was named guardian to the second son, an office of
+which he soon relieved me by going abroad, and never returned for a number
+of years.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Godfrey Martin then succeeded to the estate in due course?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yes, and we were very intimate for a time, till after his marriage, when
+estrangement grew up between us, and at last we ceased to visit at all.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Were the brothers supposed to be on good terms with each other?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I have heard two opposite versions on that subject. My own impression was
+that Lady Dorothea disliked Barry Martin, who had made a marriage that was
+considered beneath him; and then his brother was, from easiness of
+disposition, gradually weaned of his old affection for him. Many thought
+Barry, with all his faults, the better-hearted of the two.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Can you tell what ultimately became of this Barry Martin?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I only know, from common report, that after the death of his wife, having
+given his infant child, a girl, in charge to his brother, he engaged in
+the service of some of the Southern American Republics, and is supposed
+yet to be living there,&mdash;some say in great affluence; others, that he
+is utterly ruined by a failure in a mining speculation. The last time I
+ever heard Godfrey speak of him was in terms of sincere affection, adding
+the words, 'Poor Barry will befriend every one but himself.'&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;So that he never returned?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I believe not; at least I never heard of it.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I have written down these questions and your answers to them,&rdquo; said
+Repton; &ldquo;will you read them over, and if you find them correct, append
+your signature. I am expecting Mr. Nelligan here, and I 'll go and see if
+there be any sign of his arrival.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Repton just reached the door as Mr. Nelligan drove up to it.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;All goes on well and promptly to-day,&rdquo; said the old lawyer. &ldquo;I have got
+through a good deal of business already, and I expect to do as much more
+ere evening sets in. I have asked you to be present, as a magistrate,
+while I examine the contents of a certain closet in this house. I am led
+to believe that very important documents are deposited there, and it is in
+your presence, and that of Mr. Leslie, I purpose to make the inquiry.
+Before I do so, however, I will entreat your attention to a number of
+questions, and the answers to them, which will be read out to you. You
+will then be in a better position to judge of any discovery which the
+present investigation may reveal. All this sounds enigmatically enough,
+Mr. Nelligan; but you will extend your patience to me for a short while,
+and I hope to repay it.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Nelligan bowed in silence, and followed him into the house.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;There,&rdquo; said Mr. Leslie, &ldquo;I have written my name to that paper; it is, so
+far as I can see, perfectly correct.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Now, let me read it for Mr. Nelligan,&rdquo; said Repton; and, without further
+preface, recited aloud the contents of the document. &ldquo;I conclude, sir,&rdquo;
+ said he, as he finished, &ldquo;that there is nothing in what you have just
+heard very new or very strange to your ears. You knew before that Darcy
+Martin had two sons; that they were twins; and that one of them, Godfrey,
+inherited the estate. You may also have heard something of the brother's
+history; more, perhaps, than is here alluded to.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I have always heard him spoken of as a wild, reckless fellow, and that it
+was a piece of special good fortune he was not born to the property, or he
+had squandered every shilling of it,&rdquo; said Nelligan.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; said Leslie, &ldquo;such was the character he bore.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;That will do,&rdquo; said Repton, rising. &ldquo;Now, gentlemen, I'm about to unlock
+this cabinet, and, if I be correctly informed, we shall find the
+vestry-book with the entries spoken of by Mr. Leslie, and the long missing
+will of Darcy Martin. Such, I repeat, are the objects I expect to
+discover; and it is in your presence I proceed to this examination.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+In some astonishment at his words, the others followed him to the corner
+of the room, where, half concealed in the wainscot, a small door was at
+length discovered, unlocking which, Repton and the others entered a little
+chamber, lighted by a narrow, loopholed window. Not stopping to examine
+the shelves loaded with old documents and account-books, Repton walked
+straight to a small ebony cabinet, on a bracket, opening which, he drew
+forth a square vellum-bound book, with massive clasps.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;The old vestry-book. I know it well,&rdquo; said Leslie.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Here are the documents in parchment,&rdquo; continued Repton, &ldquo;and a sealed
+paper. What are the lines in the corner, Mr. Nelligan,&mdash;your eyes are
+better than mine?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;'Agreement between Godfrey and Barry Martin. To be opened by whichever
+shall survive the other.' The initials of each are underneath.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;With this we have no concern,&rdquo; said Repton; &ldquo;our business lies with
+these.&rdquo; And he pointed to the vestry-book. &ldquo;Let us look for the entry you
+spoke of.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;It is easily found,&rdquo; said Leslie. &ldquo;It was the last ever made in that
+book. Here it is.&rdquo; And he read aloud: &ldquo;'February 8th, 1772. Privately
+baptized, at Cro' Martin Castle, by me, Henry Leslie, Incumbent and Vicar
+of the said parish, Barry and Godfrey, sons of Darcy Martin and Eleanor
+his wife, both born on the fourth day of the aforesaid month; and, for the
+better discrimination of their priority in age, it is hereby added that
+Barry Martin is the elder, and Godfrey the second son, to which fact the
+following are attesting witnesses: Michael Keirn, house-steward; George
+Dorcas, butler; and Catharine Broon, maid of still-room.'&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Is that in your handwriting, sir?&rdquo; asked Repton.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yes, every word of it, except the superscription of the witnesses.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Why, then it would appear that the eldest son never enjoyed his rights,&rdquo;
+ cried Nelligan. &ldquo;Is that possible?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;It is the strict truth, sir,&rdquo; said Repton. &ldquo;The whole history of the case
+adds one to the thousand instances of the miserable failures men make who
+seek by the indulgence of their own caprices to obstruct the decrees of
+Providence. Darcy Martin died in the belief that he had so succeeded; and
+here, now, after more than half a century, are the evidences which reverse
+his whole policy, and subvert all his plans.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;But what could have been the object here?&rdquo; asked Nelligan.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Simply his preference for the younger-born. No sooner had the children
+arrived at that time of life when dispositions display themselves, than he
+singled out Godfrey as his favorite. He distinguished him in every way,
+and as markedly showed that he felt little affection for the other.
+Whether this favoritism, so openly expressed, had its influence on the
+rest of the household, or that really they grew to believe that the boy
+thus selected for peculiar honor was the heir, it would be very difficult
+now to say. Each cause may have contributed its share; all we know is,
+that when sent to Dr. Harley's school, at Oughterard, Godfrey was called
+the elder, and distinguished as such by a bit of red ribbon in his
+button-hole. And thus they grew up to youth and manhood,&mdash;the one
+flattered, indulged, and caressed; the other equally depreciated and
+undervalued. Men are, in a great measure, what others make them. Godfrey
+became proud, indolent, and overbearing; Barry, reckless and a spendthrift
+Darcy Martin died, and Godfrey succeeded him as matter of course; while
+Barry, disposing of the small property bequeathed to him, set out to seek
+adventures in the Spanish Main.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I am not able to tell, had you even the patience to hear, of what befell
+him there; the very strangest, wildest incidents are recorded of his life,
+but they have no bearing on what we are now engaged in. He came back,
+however, with a wife, to find his brother also married. This is a period
+of his life of which little is known. The brothers did not live well
+together. There were serious differences between them; and Lady Dorothea's
+conduct towards her sister-in-law, needlessly cruel and offensive, as I
+have heard, imbittered the relations between them. At last Barry's wife
+died, it was said, of a broken heart, and Barry arrived at Cro' Martin to
+deposit his infant child with his brother, and take leave of home and
+country forever.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Some incident of more than usual importance, and with circumstances of no
+common pain, must now have occurred; for one night Barry left the castle,
+vowing nevermore to enter it. Godfrey followed, and tried to detain him. A
+scene ensued of entreaty on one side, and passionate vehemence on the
+other, which brought some of the servants to the spot. Godfrey imperiously
+ordered them away; they all obeyed but Catty. Catty Broon followed Barry,
+and never quitted him that night, which he spent walking up and down the
+long avenue of the demesne, watching and waiting for daybreak. We can only
+conjecture what, in the violence of her grief and indignation, this old
+attached follower of the house might have revealed. Barry had always been
+her favorite of the two boys; she knew his rights; she had never forgotten
+them. She could not tell by what subtleties of law they had been
+transferred to another, but she felt in her heart assured that in the
+sight of God they were sacred. How far, then, she revealed this to him, or
+only hinted it, we have no means of knowing. We can only say that, armed
+with a certain fact, Barry demanded the next day a formal meeting with his
+brother and his sister-in-law. Of what passed then and there, no record
+remains, save, possibly, in that sealed packet; for it bears the date of
+that eventful morning. I, however, am in a position to prove that Barry
+declared he would not disturb the possession Godfrey was then enjoying.
+'Make that poor child,' said he, alluding to his little girl, your own
+daughter, and it matters little what becomes of <i>me</i>.' Godfrey has
+more than once adverted to this distressing scene to me. He told me how
+Lady Dorothea's passion was such that she alternately inveighed against
+himself for having betrayed her into a marriage beneath her, and abjectly
+implored Barry not to expose them to the shame and disgrace of the whole
+world by the assertion of his claim. From this she would burst out into
+fits of open defiance of him, daring him as an impostor; in fact, Martin
+said, 'That morning has darkened my life forever; the shadow of it will be
+over me to the last hour I live!' And so it was! Self-reproach never left
+him: at one time, for his usurpation of what never was his; at another,
+for the neglect of poor Mary, who was suffered to grow up without any care
+of her education, or, indeed, of any attention whatever bestowed upon her.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I believe that, in spite of herself, Lady Dorothea visited the dislike
+she bore Barry on his daughter. It was a sense of hate from the
+consciousness of a wrong,&mdash;one of the bitterest sources of enmity! At
+all events, she showed her little affection,&mdash;no tenderness. Poor
+Godfrey did all that his weak and yielding nature would permit to repair
+this injustice; his consciousness that to that girl's father he owed
+position, fortune, station, everything, was ever rising up in his mind,
+and urging him to some generous effort in her behalf. But you knew him;
+you knew how a fatal indolence, a shrinking horror of whatever demanded
+action or energy overcame all his better nature, and made him as useless
+to all the exigencies of life as one whose heart was eaten up by
+selfishness.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;The remainder of this sad story is told in very few words. Barry Martin,
+from whom for several years before no tidings had been received, came
+suddenly back to England. At first it had not been his intention to
+revisit Ireland. There was something of magnanimity in the resolve to stay
+away. He would not come back to impose upon his brother a renewal of that
+lease of gratitude he derived from him; he would rather spare him the
+inevitable conflict of feeling which the contrast of his own affluence
+with the humble condition of an exile would evoke. Besides, he was one of
+those men whom, whatever Nature may have disposed them to be, the world
+has so crushed and hardened that they live rather to indulge strong
+resentments and stern duties than to gratify warm affections. Something he
+had accidentally heard in a coffee-room&mdash;the chance mention by a
+traveller recently returned from Ireland&mdash;about a young lady of rank
+and fortune whom he had met hunting her own harriers alone in the wildest
+glen of Connemara, decided him to go over there, and, under the name of
+Mr. Barry, to visit the scenes of his youth.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I have but to tell you that it was in that dreary month of November, when
+plague and famine came together upon us, that he saw this country; the
+people dying on every side, the land until led, the very crops in some
+places uncut, terror and dismay on every side, and they who alone could
+have inspired confidence, or afforded aid, gone! Even Cro' Martin was
+deserted,&mdash;worse than deserted; for one was left to struggle alone
+against difficulties that the boldest and the bravest might have shrunk
+from. Had Barry Martin been like any other man, he would at once have
+placed himself at her side. It was a glorious occasion to have shown her
+that she was not the lone and friendless orphan, but the loved and
+cherished child of a doting father. But the hard, stern nature of the man
+had other and very different impulses; and though he tracked her from
+cottage to cottage, followed her in her lonely rambles, and watched her in
+her daily duties, no impulse of affection ever moved him to call her his
+daughter and bring her home to his heart. I know not whether it was to
+afford him these occasions of meeting her, or really in a spirit of
+benevolence, but he dispensed large sums in acts of charity among the
+people, and Mary herself recounted to me, with tears of delight in her
+eyes, the splendid generosity of this unknown stranger. I must hasten on.
+An accident, the mere circumstance of a note-book dropped by some strange
+chance in Barry's room, revealed to him the whole story of Captain
+Martin's spendthrift life; he saw that this young man had squandered away
+not only immense sums obtained by loans, but actually bartered his own
+reversionary right to the entire estate for money already lost at the
+gaming-table.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Barry at once set out for Dublin to call upon me and declare himself; but
+I was, unfortunately, absent at the assizes. He endeavored next to see
+Scanlan. Scanlan was in London; he followed him there. To Scanlan he
+represented himself as a money-lender, who, having come to the knowledge
+of Merl's dealings with young Martin, and the perilous condition of the
+property in consequence, offered his aid to re-purchase the reversion
+while it was yet time. To effect this bargain, Scanlan hastened over to
+Baden, accompanied by Barry, who, however, for secrecy' sake, remained at
+a town in the neighborhood. Scanlan, it seems, resolved to profit by an
+emergency so full of moment, and exacted from Lady Dorothea&mdash;for
+Martin was then too ill to be consulted&mdash;the most advantageous terms
+for himself. I need not mention one of the conditions,&mdash;a formal
+consent to his marriage with Miss Martin! and this, remember, when that
+young lady had not the slightest, vaguest suspicion that such an indignity
+could be offered her, far less concurred in by her nearest relatives! In
+the exuberance of his triumph, Scanlan showed the formal letter of assent
+from Lady Dorothea to Barry. It was from this latter I had the account,
+and I can give you no details, for all he said was, 'As I crushed it in my
+hand, I clenched my fist to fell him to the ground! but I refrained. I
+muttered a word or two, and got out into the street. I know very little
+more.'
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;That night he set out for Baden; but of his journey I know nothing. The
+only hint of it he ever dropped was when, giving me this key, he said, 'I
+saw Godfrey.'
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;He is now back here once more; come to insist upon his long unasserted
+rights, and by a title so indisputable that it will leave no doubt of the
+result.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;He is silent and uncommunicative; but he has said enough to show me that
+he is possessed of evidence of the compact between Godfrey and himself;
+nor is he the man to fail for lack of energy.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I have now come to the end of this strange history, in which it is not
+impossible you yourselves may be called to play a part, in confirmation of
+what you have seen this day.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Then this was the same Mr. Barry of whom we spoke last night?&rdquo; said
+Nelligan, thoughtfully. &ldquo;When about to describe him to you, I was really
+going to say, something like what Mr. Martin might look, if ten years
+older and white-haired.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;There is a strong resemblance still!&rdquo; said Repton, as he busied himself
+sealing up the vestry-book and the other documents. &ldquo;These I mean to
+deposit in your keeping, Mr. Nelligan, till they be called for. I have
+sent over Massingbred to Barry to learn what his wishes may be as to the
+next legal steps; and now I am ready to return with you to Oughterard.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Talking over this singular story, they reached the town, where Massingbred
+had just arrived a short time before.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I have had a long chase,&rdquo; said Jack, &ldquo;and only found him late in the
+afternoon at the cottage.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You gave him the packet, then, and asked when we should meet?&rdquo; asked
+Repton, hurriedly.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yes; he was walking up and down before the door with the doctor, when we
+rode up. He scarcely noticed us; and taking your letter in his hand he
+placed it, without breaking the seal, on a seat in the porch. I then gave
+him your message, and he seemed so lost in thought that I fancied he had
+not attended to me. I was about to repeat it, when he interrupted me,
+saying, 'I have heard you, sir; there is no answer.' As I stood for a
+moment or two, uncertain what to do or say, I perceived that Joe Nelligan,
+who had been speaking to the doctor, had just staggered towards a bench,
+ill and fainting. 'Yes,' said Barry, turning his eyes towards him, 'she is
+very&mdash;very ill; tell Repton so, and he 'll feel for me!'&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Repton pressed his handkerchief to his face and turned away.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I 'm afraid,&rdquo; said Massingbred, &ldquo;that her state is highly dangerous. The
+few words the doctor dropped were full of serious meaning.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Let us hope, and pray,&rdquo; said Repton, fervently, &ldquo;that, amidst all the
+calamities of this sorrow-struck land, it may be spared the loss of one
+who never opened a cabin door without a blessing, nor closed it but to
+shut a hope within.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+<a name="link2HCH0037" id="link2HCH0037">
+<!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+</p>
+<div style="height: 4em;">
+<br /><br /><br /><br />
+</div>
+<h2>
+CHAPTER XXXVII. A DARK DAY
+</h2>
+<p>
+A mild, soft day, with low-lying clouds, and rich odors of wild-flowers
+rising from the ground, a certain dreamy quiet pervading earth and sky and
+sea, over which faint shadows lingered lazily; some drops of the night dew
+still glittered on the feathery larches, and bluebells hung down their
+heads, heavy with moisture; so still the scene that the plash of the
+leaping trout could be heard as he rose in the dark stream. And yet there
+was a vast multitude of people there. The whole surface of the lawn that
+sloped from the cottage to the river was densely crowded, with every age,
+from the oldest to very infancy; with all conditions, from the well-clad
+peasant to the humblest &ldquo;tramper&rdquo; of the high-roads. Weariness,
+exhaustion, and even hunger were depicted on many of their faces. Some had
+passed the night there; others had come long distances, faint and
+footsore; but as they sat, stood, or lay in groups around, not a murmur,
+not a whisper escaped them; with aching eyes they looked towards an open
+window, where the muslin curtain was gently stirred in the faint air.
+</p>
+<p>
+The tidings of Mary Martin's illness had spread rapidly: far-away glens
+down the coast, lonely cabins on the bleak mountains, wild remote spots
+out of human intercourse had heard the news, and their dwellers had
+travelled many a mile to satisfy their aching hearts.
+</p>
+<p>
+From a late hour of the evening before they had learnt nothing of her
+state; then a few words whispered by old Catty to those nearest the door
+told &ldquo;that she was no better,&mdash;if anything, weaker!&rdquo; These sad
+tidings were soon passed from lip to lip; and thus they spent the night,
+praying or watching wearily, their steadfast gaze directed towards that
+spot where the object of all their fears and hopes lay suffering.
+</p>
+<p>
+Of those there, there was scarcely one to whom she was not endeared by
+some personal benefit. She had aided this one in distress, the other she
+had nursed in fever; here were the old she had comforted and cheered,
+there the children she had taught and trained beside her chair. Her gentle
+voice yet vibrated in every heart, her ways of kindness were in every
+memory. Sickness and sorrow were familiar enough to themselves. Life was,
+at least to most of them, one long struggle; but they could not bring
+themselves to think of <i>her</i> thus stricken down! She! that seemed an
+angel, as much above the casualties of such fortune as theirs as she was
+their superior in station,&mdash;that <i>she</i> should be sick and
+suffering was too terrible to think of.
+</p>
+<p>
+There was a stir and movement in the multitude, a wavy, surging motion,
+for the doctor was seen to issue from the stable-yard, and lead his pony
+towards the bridge. He stopped to say a word or two as he went. They were
+sad words; and many a sobbing voice and many a tearful eye told what his
+tidings had been. &ldquo;Sinking,&mdash;sinking rapidly!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+A faint low cry burst from one in the crowd at this moment, and the rumor
+ran that a woman had fainted. It was poor Joan, who had come that night
+over the mountain, and, overcome by grief and exhaustion together, had at
+last given way.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Get a glass of wine for her, or even a cup of water,&rdquo; cried out three or
+four voices; and one nigh the door entered the cottage in search of aid.
+The moment after a tall and handsome girl forced her way through the
+crowd, and gave directions that Joan might be carried into the house.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Why did ye call her my Lady?&rdquo; muttered an old hag to one of the men near
+her; &ldquo;sure, she's Henderson's daughter!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Is she, faith? By my conscience, then, she might be a better man's! She's
+as fine a crayture as ever I seen!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;If she has a purty face, she has a proud heart!&rdquo; muttered another.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Ayeh! she'll never be like <i>her</i> that's going to leave us!&rdquo; sighed a
+young woman with a black ribbon in her cap.
+</p>
+<p>
+Meanwhile Kate had Joan assisted into the cottage, and was busily occupied
+in restoring her. Slowly, and with difficulty, the poor creature came to
+herself, and gazing wildly around, asked where she was; then suddenly
+bursting out in tears, she said,&mdash;&ldquo;Sure, I know well where I am;
+sure, it's my own self, brought grief and sorrow under this roof. But for
+<i>me</i> she 'd be well and hearty this day!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Let us still hope,&rdquo; said Kate, softly. &ldquo;Let us hope that one so dear to
+us all may be left here. You are better now. I 'll join you again
+presently.&rdquo; And with noiseless footsteps she stole up the stairs. As she
+came to the door, she halted and pressed her hands to her heart, as if in
+pain. There was a low murmuring sound, as if of voices, from within, and
+Kate turned away and sat down on the stairs.
+</p>
+<p>
+Within the sick-room a subdued light came, and a soft air, mild and balmy,
+for the rose-trees and the jessamine clustered over the window, and
+mingled their blossoms across it. Mary had just awoke from a short sleep,
+and lay with her hand clasped within that of a large and white-haired man
+at the bedside.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;What a good, kind doctor!&rdquo; said she, faintly; &ldquo;I'm sure to find you ever
+beside me when I awake.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Oh, darlin', dear,&rdquo; broke in old Catty, &ldquo;sure you ought to know who he
+is. Sure it 's your own&mdash;&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Hush! be silent!&rdquo; muttered the old man, in a low, stern voice.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Is it Tuesday to-day?&rdquo; asked Mary, softly.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yes, dear, Tuesday,&rdquo; said the old man.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;It was on Thursday my poor uncle died. Could I live till Thursday,
+doctor?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+The old man tried to speak, but could not.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You are afraid to shock me,&rdquo; said she, with a faint attempt to smile,
+&ldquo;but if you knew how happy I am,&mdash;happy even to leave a life I loved
+so well. It never could have been the same again, though&mdash;the spell
+was breaking, hardship and hunger were maddening them&mdash;who knows to
+what counsels they 'd have listened soon! Tell Harry to be kind to them,
+won't you? Tell him not to trust to others, but to know them himself; to
+go, as I have done, amongst them. They 'll love him <i>so</i> for doing
+it. He is a man, young, rich, and high-hearted,&mdash;how they 'll dote
+upon him! Catty used to say it was my father they 'd have worshipped; but
+that was in flattery to me, Catty, you always said we were so like&mdash;&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Oh dear! oh dear! why won't you tell her?&rdquo; broke in Catty. But a severe
+gesture from the old man again checked her words.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;How that wild night at sea dwells in my thoughts! I never sleep but to
+dream of it. Cousin Harry must not forget those brave fellows. I have
+nothing to requite them with. I make no will, doctor,&rdquo; said she, smiling,
+&ldquo;for my only legacy is that nosegay there. Will you keep it for my sake?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+The old man hid his face, but his strong frame shook and quivered in the
+agony of the moment.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Hush!&rdquo; said she, softly; &ldquo;I hear voices without. Who are they?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;They're the country-people, darlin', come from Kiltimmon and beyond
+Kyle-a-Noe, to ax after you. They passed the night there, most of them.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Catty, dear, take care that you look after them; they will be hungry and
+famished, poor creatures! Oh, how unspeakably grateful to one's heart is
+this proof of feeling! Doctor, you will tell Harry how <i>I</i> loved <i>them</i>
+and how <i>they</i> loved <i>me</i>. Tell him, too, that this bond of
+affection is the safest and best of all ties. Tell him that their old love
+for a Martin still survives in their hearts, and it will be his own fault
+if he does not transmit it to his children. There's some one sobbing there
+without. Oh, bid them be of good heart, Catty; there is none who could go
+with less of loss to those behind. There&mdash;there come the great waves
+again before me! How my courage must have failed me to make this
+impression so deep! And poor Joan, and that dear fond girl who has been as
+a sister to me,&mdash;so full of gentleness and love,&mdash;Kate, where is
+she? No, do not call her; say that I asked for her&mdash;that I blessed
+her&mdash;and sent her this kiss!&rdquo; She pressed a rose to her hot, parched
+lips as she spoke, and then closing her eyes seemed to fall off to sleep.
+Her breathing, at first strong and frequent, grew fainter and fainter, and
+her color came and went, while her lips slightly moved, and a low, soft
+murmur came from them.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;She's asleep,&rdquo; muttered Catty, as she crouched down beside the bed.
+</p>
+<p>
+The old man bent over the bed, and watched the calm features. He sat thus
+long, for hours, but no change was there; he put his lips to hers, and
+then a sickly shuddering came over him, and a low, deep groan, that seemed
+to rend his very heart!
+</p>
+<p>
+Three days after, the great gateway of Cro' Martin Castle opened to admit
+a stately hearse drawn by six horses, all mournfully caparisoned, shaking
+with plumes and black-fringed drapery. Two mourning-coaches followed, and
+then the massive gates were closed, and the sad pageant wound its slow
+course through the demesne. At the same moment another funeral was
+approaching the churchyard by a different road. It was a coffin borne by
+men bareheaded and sorrow-struck. An immense multitude followed, of every
+rank and age; sobs and sighs broke from them as they went. Not an eye was
+tearless, not a lip that did not tremble. At the head of this procession
+walked a small group whose dress and bearing bespoke their class. These
+were Barry Martin, leaning on Repton; Massingbred and the two Nelligans
+came behind.
+</p>
+<p>
+The two coffins entered the churchyard at the same instant The uncle and
+the niece were laid side by side in the turf! The same sacred words
+consigned them both to their last bed; the same second of time heard the
+dank reverberation that pronounced &ldquo;earth&rdquo; had returned &ldquo;to earth.&rdquo; A kind
+of reverential awe pervaded the immense crowd during the ceremony, and if
+here and there a sob would burst from some overburdened heart, all the
+rest were silent; respecting, with a deference of true refinement, a
+sorrow deeper and greater than their own, they never uttered a word, but
+with bent-down heads stole quietly away. And now by each grave the
+mourners stood, silently gazing on the little mounds which typify so much
+of human sorrow!
+</p>
+<p>
+Barry Martin's bronzed and weather-beaten features were a thought paler,
+perhaps. There was a dark shade of color round the eyes, but on the whole
+the expression conveyed far more of sternness than sorrow. Such, indeed,
+is no uncommon form for grief to take in certain natures. There are men
+who regard calamity like a foe, and go out to meet it in a spirit of
+haughty defiance. A poor philosophy! He who accepts it as chastisement is
+both a braver and a better man!
+</p>
+<p>
+Repton stood for a while beside him, not daring to interrupt his thoughts.
+At length he whispered a few words in his ear. Barry started suddenly, and
+his dark brow grew sterner and more resolute.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yes, Martin, you must,&rdquo; said Repton, eagerly, &ldquo;I insist upon it. Good
+heavens! is it at such a time, in such a place as this, you can harbor a
+thought that is not forgiveness? Remember he is poor Godfrey's son, the
+last of the race now.&rdquo; As he spoke, passing his arm within the other's, he
+drew him gently along, and led him to where a solitary mourner was
+standing beside the other grave.
+</p>
+<p>
+Barry Martin stood erect and motionless, while Repton spoke to the young
+man. At first the words seemed to confuse and puzzle him, for he looked
+vaguely around, and passed his hand across his brow in evident difficulty.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Did you say here, in this country? Do I understand you aright?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Here, in this very spot; there, standing now before you!&rdquo; said Repton, as
+he pushed young Martin towards his uncle.
+</p>
+<p>
+Barry held out his hand, which the young man grasped eagerly; and then, as
+if unable to resist his emotions longer, fell, sobbing violently, into the
+other's arms.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Let us leave them for a while,&rdquo; said Repton, hurrying over to where
+Massingbred and the Nelligans were yet standing in silent sorrow.
+</p>
+<p>
+They left the spot together without a word. Grief had its own part for
+each. It is not for us to say where sorrow eat deepest, or in which heart
+the desolation was most complete.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I'd not have known young Martin,&rdquo; whispered Nelligan in Repton's ear; &ldquo;he
+looks full twelve years older than when last I saw him.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;The fast men of this age, sir, live their youth rapidly,&rdquo; replied the
+other. &ldquo;It is rarely their fortune to survive to be like me, or heaven
+knows what hearts they would be left with!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+While they thus talked, Massingbred and Joe Nelligan had strolled away
+into the wood. Neither spoke. Massingbred felt the violent trembling of
+the other's arm as it rested on his own, and saw a gulping effort by which
+more than once he suppressed his rising emotion. For hours they thus
+loitered along, and at length, as they issued from the demesne, they found
+Repton and Mr. Nelligan awaiting them.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Barry Martin has taken his nephew back with him to the cottage,&rdquo; said
+Repton, &ldquo;and we 'll not intrude upon them for the rest of the evening.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+<a name="link2HCH0038" id="link2HCH0038">
+<!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+</p>
+<div style="height: 4em;">
+<br /><br /><br /><br />
+</div>
+<h2>
+CHAPTER XXXVIII. REPTON'S LAST CAUSE
+</h2>
+<p>
+We have no right, as little have we the inclination, to inflict our reader
+with the details by which Barry Martin asserted and obtained his own. A
+suit in which young Martin assumed to be the defendant developed the whole
+history to the world, and proclaimed his title to the estate. It was a
+memorable case in many ways; it was the last brief Val Repton ever held.
+Never was his clear and searching intellect more conspicuous; never did he
+display more logical acuteness, nor trace out a difficult narrative with
+more easy perspicuity.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;My Lords,&rdquo; said he, as he drew nigh the conclusion of his speech, &ldquo;it
+would have been no ordinary satisfaction to me to close a long life of
+labor in these courts by an effort which restores to an ancient name the
+noble heritage it had held for centuries. I should have deemed such an
+occasion no unfitting close to a career not altogether void of its
+successes; but the event has still stronger claims upon my gratitude. It
+enables me in all the unembellished sternness of legal proof to display to
+an age little credulous of much affection the force of a brother's love,&mdash;the
+high-hearted devotion by which a man encountered a long life of poverty
+and privation, rather than disturb the peaceful possession of a brother.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Romance has its own way of treating such themes; but I do not believe
+romance can add one feature to the simple fact of this man's self-denial.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;We should probably be lost in our speculations as to the noble motives of
+this sacrifice, if our attention was not called away to something
+infinitely finer and more exalted than even this. I mean the glorious life
+and martyr's death of her who has made a part of this case less like a
+legal investigation than the page of an affecting story. Story, do I say!
+Shame on the word! It is in truth and reality alone are such virtues
+inscribed. Fiction cannot deal with the humble materials that make up such
+an existence,&mdash;the long hours of watching by sickness; the weary care
+of teaching the young; the trying disappointments to hope bravely met by
+fresh efforts; the cheery encouragement drawn from a heart exhausting
+itself to supply others. Think of a young girl&mdash;a very child in the
+world's wisdom, more than a man in heroism and daring, with a heart made
+for every high ambition, and a station that might command the highest&mdash;calmly
+consenting to be the friend of destitution, the companion of misery, the
+daily associate of every wretchedness; devoting grace that might have
+adorned a court to shed happiness in a cabin, and making of beauty that
+would have shed lustre around a palace the sunshine that pierced the gloom
+of a peasant's misery! Picture to yourself the hand a prince might have
+knelt to kiss, holding the cup to the lips of fever; fancy the form whose
+elegance would have fascinated, crouched down beside the embers as she
+spoke words of consolation or hope to some bereaved mother or some
+desolate orphan!
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;These are not the scenes we are wont to look on here. Our cares are,
+unhappily, more with the wiles and snares of crafty men than with the
+sorrows and sufferings of the good! It is not often human nature wears its
+best colors in this place; the spirit of litigious contest little favors
+the virtues that are the best adornments of our kind. Thrice happy am I,
+then, that I end my day where a glorious sunset gilds its last hours; that
+I close my labors not in reprobating crime or stigmatizing baseness, but
+with a full heart, thanking God that my last words are an elegy over the
+grave of the best of The Martins of Cro' Martin.'&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+The inaccurate record from which we take these passages&mdash;for the only
+report of the trial is in a newspaper of the time&mdash;adds that the
+emotion of the speaker had so far pervaded the court that the conclusion
+was drowned in mingled expressions of applause and sorrow; and when Repton
+retired, he was followed by the whole bar, eagerly pressing to take their
+last farewell of its honored father.
+</p>
+<p>
+The same column of the paper mentions that Mr. Joseph Nelligan was to have
+made his first motion that day as Solicitor-General, but had left the
+court from a sudden indisposition, and the cause was consequently
+deferred.
+</p>
+<p>
+If Val Repton never again took his place in court, he did not entirely
+abdicate his functions. Barry Martin had determined on making a conveyance
+of the estate to his nephew, and the old lawyer was for several weeks
+busily employed in that duty. Although Merl's claim became extinguished
+when young Martin's right to the property was annulled, Barry Martin
+insisted on arrangements being made to repay him all that he had advanced,&mdash;a
+course which Repton, with some little hesitation, at last concurred in. He
+urged Barry to reserve a life-interest to himself in the property,
+representing the various duties which more properly would fall to his lot
+than to that of a young and inexperienced proprietor. But he would not
+hear of it.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;He cannot abide the place,&rdquo; said Repton, when talking the matter over
+with Massingbred. &ldquo;He is one of those men who never can forgive the
+locality where they have been miserable, nor the individual who has had a
+share in their sorrow. When he settles his account with Henderson, then he
+'ll leave the West forever.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And will he still leave Henderson in his charge?&rdquo; asked Jack.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;That is as it may be,&rdquo; said Repton, cautiously. &ldquo;There is, as I
+understand, some very serious reckoning between them. It is the only
+subject on which Martin has kept mystery with me, and I do not like even
+to advert to it.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Massingbred pondered long over these words, without being able to make
+anything of them.
+</p>
+<p>
+It might be that Henderson's conduct had involved him in some grave
+charge; and if so, Jack's own intentions with regard to the daughter would
+be burdened with fresh complications. &ldquo;The steward&rdquo; was bad enough; but if
+he turned out to be the &ldquo;unjust steward&rdquo;&mdash;&ldquo;I 'll start for Galway
+to-night,&rdquo; thought he. &ldquo;I 'll anticipate the discovery, whatever it be.
+She can no longer refuse to see me on the pretext of recent sorrow. It is
+now two months and more since this bereavement befell her. I can no longer
+combat this life of anxiety and doubt.&mdash;What can I do for you in the
+West, sir?&rdquo; asked he of Repton, suddenly.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Many things, my young friend,&rdquo; said Repton, &ldquo;if you will delay your
+departure two days, since they are matters on which I must instruct you
+personally.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Massingbred gave a kind of half-consent, and the other went on to speak of
+the necessity for some nice diplomacy between the uncle and his nephew.
+&ldquo;They know each other but little; they are on the verge of
+misunderstandings a dozen times a day. Benefits are, after all, but sorry
+ties between man and man. They may ratify the treaty of affection; they
+rarely inscribe the contract!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Still Martin cannot but feel that to the noblest act of his uncle's
+generosity he is indebted for all he possesses.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Of course he knows, and he feels it; but who is to say whether that same
+consciousness is not a load too oppressive to bear. I know already Barry
+Martin's suggestions as to certain changes have not been well taken, and
+he is eager and pressing to leave Ireland, lest anything should disturb
+the concord, frail as it is, between them.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;By Jove!&rdquo; exclaimed Massingbred, passionately, &ldquo;there is wonderfully
+little real good in this world; wonderfully little that can stand the test
+of the very basest of all motives,&mdash;mere gain.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Don't say so!&rdquo; cried Repton. &ldquo;Men have far better natures than you think;
+the fault lies in their tempers. Ay, sir, we are always entering into
+heavy recognizances with our passions, to do fifty things we never cared
+for. We have said this, we have heard the other; somebody sneered at that,
+and some one else agreed with him; and away we go, pitching all reason
+behind us, like an old shoe, and only seeking to gratify a whim, or a mere
+caprice, suggested by temper. Why do people maintain friendly intercourse
+at a distance for years, who could not pass twenty-four hours amicably
+under the same roof? Simply because it is their natures, and not their
+tempers, are in exercise.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I scarcely can separate the two in my mind,&rdquo; said Jack, doubtingly.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Can't you, sir? Why, nature is your skin, temper only your great-coat.&rdquo;
+ And the old lawyer laughed heartily at his own conceit. &ldquo;But here comes
+the postman.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+The double knock had scarcely reverberated through the spacious hall when
+the servant entered with a letter.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Ah! Barry Martin's hand. What have we here?&rdquo; said Repton, as he ran his
+eyes over it. &ldquo;So-so; just as I was saying this minute, only that Barry
+has the good sense to see it himself. 'My nephew,' he writes, 'has his own
+ideas on all these subjects, which are not mine; and as it is no part of
+my plan to hamper my gift with conditions that might impair its value, I
+mean to leave this at once.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;'I have had my full share of calamity since I set foot in this land; and
+if this rugged old nature could be crushed by mere misfortune, the last
+two months might have done it. But no, Repton, the years by which we
+survive friends serve equally to make us survive affections, and we live
+on, untouched by time!
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;'I mean to be with you this evening. Let us dine alone together, for I
+have much to say to you.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;' Yours ever,
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;'Barry Martin.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;'I hope I may see Massingbred before I sail. I 'd like to shake hands
+with him once again. Say so to him, at all events.'&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Come in to-morrow to breakfast,&rdquo; said Repton; &ldquo;by that time we'll have
+finished all mere business affairs.&rdquo; And Massingbred having assented, they
+parted.
+</p>
+<p>
+<a name="link2HCH0039" id="link2HCH0039">
+<!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+</p>
+<div style="height: 4em;">
+<br /><br /><br /><br />
+</div>
+<h2>
+CHAPTER XXXIX. TOWARDS THE END
+</h2>
+<p>
+Repton was standing at his parlor window, anxiously awaiting his friend's
+arrival, when the chaise with four posters came to the door. &ldquo;What have we
+here?&rdquo; said the old lawyer to himself, as Barry assisted a lady dressed in
+deep mourning to alight, and hurried out to receive them.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I have not come alone, Repton,&rdquo; said the other. &ldquo;I have brought my
+daughter with me.&rdquo; Before Repton could master his amazement at these
+words, she had thrown back her veil, revealing the well-known features of
+Kate Henderson.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Is this possible?&mdash;is this really the case?&rdquo; cried Repton, as he
+grasped her hand between both his own. &ldquo;Do I, indeed, see one I have so
+long regarded and admired, as the child of my old friend?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Fate, that dealt me so many heavy blows of late, had a kindness in
+reserve for me, after all,&rdquo; said Barry. &ldquo;I am not to be quite alone in
+this world!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;If <i>you</i> be grateful, what ought not to be <i>my</i> thankfulness?&rdquo;
+ said Kate, tremulously.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Leave us for a moment together, Kate,&rdquo; said Barry; and taking Repton's
+arm, he led him into an inner room.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I have met with many a sore cut from fortune, Repton,&rdquo; said he, in the
+fierce tone that was most natural to him; &ldquo;the nearest and dearest to me
+not the last to treat me harshly. I need not tell you how I have been
+requited in life; not, indeed, that I seek to acquit myself of my own
+share of ill. My whole career has been a fault; it could not bring other
+fruit than misery.&rdquo; He paused, and for a while seemed laboring in strong
+emotion. At last he went on:&mdash;
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;When that girl was born&mdash;it was two years before I married&mdash;I
+intrusted the charge of her to Henderson, who placed her with a sister of
+his in Bruges. I made arrangements for her maintenance and education,&mdash;liberally
+for one as poor as I was. I made but one condition about her. It was that
+under no circumstances save actual want should she ever be reduced to earn
+her own bread; but if the sad hour did come, never&mdash;as had been her
+poor mothers fate&mdash;never as a governess! It was in that fearful
+struggle of condition I first knew her. I continued, year after year, to
+hear of her; remitting regularly the sums I promised,&mdash;doubling,
+tripling them, when fortune favored me with a chance prosperity. The
+letters spoke of her as well and happy, in humble but sufficient
+circumstances, equally remote from privation as from the seductions of a
+more exalted state. I insisted eagerly on my original condition, and hoped
+some day to hear of her being married to some honest but humble man. It
+was not often that I had time for self-reproach; but when such seasons
+would beset me, I thought of this girl, and her poor mother long dead and
+gone&mdash;But let me finish. While I struggled&mdash;and it was often a
+hard struggle&mdash;to maintain my side of the compact, selling at ruinous
+loss acquisitions it had cost me years of labor to obtain, this fellow,
+this Henderson, was basely betraying the trust I placed in him! The girl,
+for whose protection, whose safety I was toiling, was thrown by him into
+the very world for which I had distinctly excepted her; her talents, her
+accomplishments, her very graces, farmed out and hired for his own profit!
+Launched into the very sea where her own mother met shipwreck, she was a
+mere child, sent to thread her way through the perils of the most
+dissipated society. Hear her own account of it, Repton. Let <i>her</i>
+tell you what is the tone of that high life to which foreign nobility
+imparts its fascinations. Not that I want to make invidious comparisons;
+our own country sends its high tributaries to every vice of Europe! I know
+not what accident saved her amidst this pollution. Some fancied theory of
+popular wrongs, she thinks, gave her a kind of factitious heroism;
+elevating her, at least to her own mind, above the frivolous corruptions
+around her. She was a democrat, to rescue her from being worse.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;At last came a year of unusual pressure; my remittance was delayed, but
+when sent was never acknowledged. From that hour out I never heard of her.
+How she came into my brother's family, you yourself know. What was her
+life there, she has told me! Not in any spirit of complaint,&mdash;nay,
+she acknowledges to many kindnesses and much trust. Even my cold
+sister-in-law showed traits for which I had not given her credit. I have
+already forgotten her wrongs towards myself, in requital of her conduct to
+this poor girl.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I'll spare you the scene with Henderson, Repton,&rdquo; said he, after a long
+pause. &ldquo;When the fellow told me that the girl was the same I had seen
+watching by another's sickbed, that she it was whose never-ceasing cares
+had soothed the last hours of one dearer than herself, I never gave
+another thought to him. I rushed out in search of her, to tell her myself
+the tidings.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;How did she hear it?&rdquo; asked Repton, eagerly.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;More calmly than I could tell it. Her first words were, 'Thank God for
+this, for I never could love that man I had called my father!'&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;She knows, then, every circumstance of her birth?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I told her everything. We know each other as well as though we had lived
+under the same roof for years. She is my own child in every sentiment and
+feeling. She is frank and fearless, Repton,&mdash;two qualities that will
+do well enough in the wild savannahs of the New World, but would be
+unmanageable gifts in the Old, and thither we are bound. I have written to
+Liverpool about a ship, and we shall sail on Saturday.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;How warmly do I sympathize in this your good fortune, Martin!&rdquo; said
+Repton. &ldquo;She is a noble creature, and worthy of belonging to you.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I ask for nothing more, Repton,&rdquo; said he, solemnly. &ldquo;Fortune and station,
+such as they exist here, I have no mind for! I'm too old now to go to
+school about party tactics and politics; I'm too stubborn, besides, to
+yield up a single conviction for the sake of unity with a party,&mdash;so
+much for my unfitness for public life. As to private, I am rough and
+untrained; the forms of society so pleasant to others would be penalties
+to <i>me</i>. And then,&rdquo; said he, rising, and drawing up his figure to its
+full height, &ldquo;I love the forest and the prairie; I glory in the vastness
+of a landscape where the earth seems boundless as the sky, and where, if I
+hunt down a buffalo-ox, after twenty miles of a chase, I have neither a
+game-law nor a gamekeeper nor a charge of trespass hanging over me.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;There's some one knocking at the door,&rdquo; said Repton, as he arose and
+opened it.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;A thousand pardons for this interruption,&rdquo; said Mas-singbred, in a low
+and eager voice, &ldquo;but I cannot keep my promise to you; I cannot defer my
+journey to the West. I start to-night. Don't ask me the reasons. I 'll be
+free enough to give them if they justify me.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;But here is one who wishes to shake hands with you, Massingbred,&rdquo; said
+Repton, as he led him forward into the room.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I hope you are going to keep your pledge with me, though,&rdquo; said Barry.
+&ldquo;Have you forgotten you have promised to be my guest over the sea?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Ah,&rdquo; said Jack, sighing, &ldquo;I 've had many a day-dream of late!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;The man's in love,&rdquo; said Repton. &ldquo;Nay, prisoner, you are not called on to
+say what may criminate you. I 'll tell you what, Barry, you 'll do the boy
+good service by taking him along with you. There 's a healthful sincerity
+in the active life of the New World well fitted to dispel illusions that
+take their rise in the indolent voluptuousness of the Old. Carry him off
+then, I say; accept no excuses nor apologies. Send him away to buy powder
+and shot, leather gaiters, and the rest of it. When I saw him first
+myself, it was in the character of a poacher, and he filled the part well.
+Ah! he is gone,&rdquo; added he, perceiving that Martin had just quitted the
+room. &ldquo;Poor fellow, he is so full of his present happiness,&mdash;the
+first gleam of real sunshine on a long day of lowering gloom! He has just
+found a daughter,&mdash;an illegitimate one, but worthy to be the
+rightful-born child to the first man in the land. The discovery has
+carried him back twenty years of life, and freshened a heart whose wells
+of feeling were all but dried up forever. If I mistake not, you must have
+met her long ago at Cro' Martin.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Possibly. I have no recollection of it,&rdquo; said Jack, musing.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;An ignoble confession, sir,&rdquo; said Repton; &ldquo;no less shocked should I be
+were she to tell me she was uncertain if she had ever met Mr. Massingbred.
+As Burke once remarked to me, 'Active intelligences, like appropriate
+ingredients in chemistry, never meet without fresh combinations.' It is
+then a shame to ignore such products. I 'd swear that when you did meet
+you understood each other thoroughly; agreed well,&mdash;ay, and what is
+more to the purpose, differed in the right places too.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I'm certain we did,&rdquo; said Jack, smiling, &ldquo;though I'm ungrateful enough to
+forget all about it.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Well,&rdquo; said Martin, entering, &ldquo;I have sent for another advocate to plead
+my cause. My daughter will tell you, sir, that she, at least, is not
+afraid to encounter the uncivilized glens beside the Orinoco. Come in,
+Kate. You tell me that you and Mr. Massingbred are old friends.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Massingbred started as he heard the name, looked up, and there stood Kate
+before him, with her hand extended in welcome.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Good heavens! what is this? Am I in a dream? Can this be real?&rdquo; cried
+Jack, pressing his hands to his temples, and trembling from head to foot
+in the intensity of his anxiety.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;My father tells me of an invitation he has given you, Mr. Massingbred,&rdquo;
+ said she, smiling faintly at his embarrassment, &ldquo;and asks me to repeat it;
+but I know far better than he does all that you would surrender by exile
+from the great world wherein you are destined to eminence. The great
+debater, the witty conversationalist, the smart reviewer, might prove but
+a sorry trapper, and even a bad shot! I have my scruples, then, about
+supporting a cause where my conscience does not go along with me.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;My head on't, but he 'll like the life well,&rdquo; said Barry, half
+impatiently.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Am I to think that you will not ask me to be your guest?&rdquo; said Jack, in a
+whisper, only audible by Kate.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I have not said so,&rdquo; said she, in the same low tone. &ldquo;Will you go
+further, Kate,&rdquo; muttered he, in tremulous eagerness, &ldquo;and say, 'Come'?&rdquo;
+ &ldquo;Yes!&rdquo; said she. &ldquo;Come!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+<a name="linkimage-0016" id="linkimage-0016">
+<!-- IMG --></a>
+</p>
+<div class="fig" style="width:80%;">
+<img src="images/410.jpg" width="100%" alt="410 " />
+</div>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I accept!&rdquo; cried Jack, rushing over, and grasping Martin's hands between
+his own. &ldquo;I 'm ready,&mdash;this hour, this instant, if you like it.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;We find the prisoner guilty, my Lords,&rdquo; said Repton; &ldquo;but we recommend
+him to mercy, as his manner on this occasion convinces us it is a first
+offence.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+We have now done with the Martins of Cro' Martin. Should any of our
+readers feel a curiosity as to the future fortunes of the estate, its
+story, like that of many another Irish property, is written in the
+Encumbered Estates Court. Captain Martin only grew wiser by the especial
+experience of one class of difficulties. His indolent, easy disposition
+and a taste for expense led him once again into embarrassments from which
+there was but one issue,&mdash;the sale of his property. He has still,
+however, a handsome subsistence remaining, and lives with Lady Dorothea,
+notable and somewhat distinguished residents of a city on the Continent.
+</p>
+<p>
+We cannot persuade ourselves that we have inspired interest for the
+humbler characters of our piece. Nor dare we ask the reader to hear more
+about Mrs. Cronan and her set, nor learn how Kilkieran fared in the
+changes around it.
+</p>
+<p>
+For Joseph Nelligan, however, we claim a parting word. He was the first of
+an order of men who have contributed no small share to the great social
+revolution of Ireland in late years. With talents fully equal to the best
+in the opposite scale of party, and a character above all reproach, he
+stood a rebuking witness to all the taunts and sarcasms once
+indiscriminately levelled at his class; and, at the same time, inspired
+his own party with the happy knowledge that there was a nobler and more
+legitimate road to eminence than by factious display and popular
+declamation.
+</p>
+<p>
+We do not wish to inquire how far the one great blow to his happiness&mdash;the
+disappointment of his early life&mdash;contributed to his success by
+concentrating his ambition on his career. Certain is it, no man achieved a
+higher or more rapid elevation, and old Dan lived to receive at his board
+the Chief Justice of the Queen's Bench in the person of his own son.
+</p>
+<p>
+Poor Simmy Crow! for if we would forget him, he has taken care that
+oblivion is not to be his fate. He has sent from the Rocky Mountains,
+where he is now wandering with Barry Martin, some sketches of Indian Life
+to the Irish Art Exhibition.
+</p>
+<p>
+If it be a pleasure to trace in our friends the traits we have admired in
+them in youth, and remark the embers of the fires that once wanned their
+hearts, Simmy affords us this gratification, since his drawings reveal the
+inspirations that first filled his early mind. The Chief in his war-paint
+has a fac-simile likeness to his St. John in the Wilderness; and as for
+the infant the squaw is bathing in the stream, we can produce twelve
+respectable witnesses to depose that it is &ldquo;Moses.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+We are much tempted to add a word about the Exiles themselves, but we
+abstain. It is enough to say that all the attractive prospects of ambition
+held out by friends, all the seductions of generous offers from family,
+have never tempted them to return to the Old World; but that they live on
+happily, far away from the jarring collisions of life, the tranquil
+existence they had longed for.
+</p>
+<p>
+THE END. <br /> <br />
+</p>
+<hr />
+<p>
+<br /> <br />
+</p>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+
+
+
+
+
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+</pre>
+</body>
+</html>