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+The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Knight Of Gwynne, 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 Knight Of Gwynne, Vol. II (of II)
+
+Author: Charles James Lever
+
+Illustrator: Phiz.
+
+Release Date: April 2, 2011 [EBook #35756]
+Last Updated: February 28, 2018
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: UTF-8
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK KNIGHT OF GWYNNE, II ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by David Widger
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+THE KNIGHT OF GWYNNE
+
+By Charles James Lever
+
+
+A Tale of the Time of the Union
+
+With Illustrations By Phiz.
+
+In Two Volumes. Vol. II.
+
+Boston: Little, Brown, And Company 1894.
+
+
+
+
+
+THE KNIGHT OF GWYNNE
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER I. SOME CHARACTERS NEW TO THE KNIGHT AND THE READER
+
+Soon after breakfast the following morning the Knight set out to pay
+his promised visit to Miss Daly, who had taken up her abode at a little
+village on the coast, about three miles distant. Had Darcy known that
+her removal thither had been in consequence of his own arrival at
+“The Corvy,” the fact would have greatly added to an embarrassment
+sufficiently great on other grounds. Of this, however, he was not aware;
+her brother Bagenal accounting for her not inhabiting “The Corvy” as
+being lonely and desolate, whereas the village of Ballintray was, after
+its fashion, a little watering-place much frequented in the season by
+visitors from Coleraine, and other towns still more inland.
+
+Thither now the Knight bent his steps by a little footpath across the
+fields which, from time to time, approached the seaside, and wound again
+through the gently undulating surface of that ever-changing tract.
+
+Not a human habitation was in sight; not a living thing was seen to
+move over that wide expanse; it was solitude the very deepest, and well
+suited the habit of his mind who now wandered there alone. Deeply lost
+in thought, he moved onward, his arms folded on his breast, and his eyes
+downcast; he neither bestowed a glance upon the gloomy desolation of
+the land prospect, nor one look of admiring wonder at the giant cliffs,
+which, straight as a wall, formed the barriers against the ocean.
+
+“What a strange turn of fortune!” said he, at length, as relieving his
+overburdened brain by speech. “I remember well the last day I ever saw
+her; it was just before my departure for England for my marriage. I
+remember well driving over to Castle Daly to say good-bye! Perhaps,
+too, I had some lurking vanity in exhibiting that splendid team of four
+grays, with two outriders. How perfect it all was! and a proud fellow
+I was that day! Maria was looking very handsome; she was dressed for
+riding, but ordered the horses back as I drove up. What spirits she
+had!--with what zest she seized upon the enjoyments her youth, her
+beauty, and her fortune gave her!--how ardently she indulged every
+costly caprice and every whim, as if revelling in the pleasure of
+extravagance even for its own sake! Fearless in everything, she did
+indeed seem like a native princess, surrounded by all that barbaric
+splendor of her father's house, the troops of servants, the equipages
+without number, the guests that came and went unceasingly, all rendering
+homage to her beauty. 'T was a gorgeous dream of life, and well she
+understood how to realize all its enchantment. We scarcely parted good
+friends on that same last day,” said he, after a pause; “her manner
+was almost mordant. I can recall the cutting sarcasms she dealt around
+her,--strange exuberance of high spirits carried away to the wildest
+flights of fancy; and after all, when, having dropped my glove, I
+returned to the luncheon-room to seek it, I saw her in a window, bathed
+in tears; she did not perceive me, and we never met after. Poor girl!
+were those outpourings of sorrow the compensation nature exacted for
+the exercise of such brilliant powers of wit and imagination? or had she
+really, as some believed, a secret attachment somewhere? Who knows? And
+now we are to meet again, after years of absence,--so fallen too! If it
+were not for these gray hairs and this wrinkled brow, I could believe it
+all a dream;--and what is it but a dream, if we are not fashioned to act
+differently because of our calamities? Events are but shadows if they
+move us not.”
+
+From thoughts like these he passed on to others,--as to how he should be
+received, and what changes time might have wrought in her.
+
+“She was so lovely, and might have been so much more so, had she but
+curbed that ever-rising spirit of mockery that made the sparkling lustre
+of her eyes seem like the scathing flash of lightning rather than the
+soft beam of tranquil beauty. How we quarrelled and made up again! what
+everlasting treaties ratified and broken! and now to look back on this
+with a heart and a spirit weary, how sad it seems! Poor Maria! her
+destiny has been less happy than mine. She is alone in the world; I have
+affectionate hearts around me to make a home beneath the humble roof of
+a cabin.”
+
+The Knight was aroused from his musings by suddenly finding himself
+on the brow of a hill, from which the gorge descended abruptly into a
+little cove, around which the village of Ballintray was built. A row
+of whitewashed cottages, in winter inhabited by the fishermen and their
+families, became in the summer season the residence of the visitors,
+many of whom deserted spacious and well-furnished mansions to pass
+their days in the squalid discomfort of a cabin. If beauty of situation
+and picturesque charms of scenery could ever atone for so many
+inconveniences incurred, this little village might certainly have done
+so. Landlocked by two jutting promontories, the bay was sheltered both
+east and westward, while the rising ground behind defended it from the
+sweeping storms which the south brings in its seasons of rain; in front
+the distant island of Isla could be seen, and the Scottish coast was
+always discernible in the clear atmosphere of the evening.
+
+While Darcy stood admiring the well-chosen spot, his eye rested upon a
+semicircular panel of wood, which, covering over a short and gravelled
+avenue, displayed in very striking capitals the words “Fumbally's
+Boarding-House.” The edifice itself, more pretentious in extent and
+character than the cabins around, was ornamented with green jalousies
+to the windows, and a dazzling brass knocker surmounting a plate of the
+same metal, whereupon the name “Mrs. Jones Fumbally” was legible, even
+from the road. Some efforts at planting had been made in the two
+square plots of yellowish grass in front, but they had been lamentable
+failures; and, as if to show that the demerit was of the soil and not of
+the proprietors, the dead shrubs were suffered to stand where they had
+been stuck down, while, in default of leaves or buds, they put forth a
+plentiful covering of stockings, nightcaps, and other wearables, which
+flaunted as gayly in the breeze as the owners were doing on the beach.
+
+Across the high-road and on the beach, which was scarcely more than
+fifty yards distant, stood a large wooden edifice on wheels, whose make
+suggested some secret of its original destination, had not that fact
+been otherwise revealed, since, from beneath the significant name
+of “Fumbally,” an acute decipherer might read the still unerased
+inscription of “A Panther with only two spots from the head to the
+tail,” an unhappy collocation which fixed upon the estimable lady the
+epithet of the animal in question.
+
+Various garden-seats and rustic benches were scattered about, some
+of which were occupied by lounging figures of gentlemen, in costumes
+ingeniously a cross between the sporting world and the naval service;
+while the ladies displayed a no less elegant neglige, half sea-nymph,
+half shepherdess.
+
+So much for the prospect landward, while towards the waves themselves
+there was a party of bathers, whose flowing hair and lengthened drapery
+indicated their sex. These maintained through all their sprightly
+gambols an animated conversation with a party of gentlemen on the rocks,
+who seemed, by the telescopes and spy-glasses which lay around them, to
+be equally prepared for the inspection of near and distant objects,
+and alternately turned from the criticism of a fair naiad beneath to a
+Scotch collier working “north about” in the distance.
+
+Darcy could not help feeling that if the cockneyism of a boarding-house
+and the blinds and the brass knocker were sadly repugnant to the
+sense of admiration the scene itself would excite, there was an ample
+compensation in the primitive simplicity of the worthy inhabitants, who
+seemed to revel in all the unsuspecting freedom of our first parents
+themselves; for while some stood on little promontories of the rocks
+in most Canova-like drapery, little frescos of naked children flitted
+around and about, without concern to themselves or astonishment to the
+beholders.
+
+Never was the good Knight more convinced of his own prudence in paying
+his first visit alone, and he stood for some time in patient admiration
+of the scene, until his eye rested on a figure who, seated at some
+distance off on a little eminence of the rocky coast, was as coolly
+surveying Darcy through his telescope. The mutual inspection continued
+for several minutes, when the stranger, deliberately shutting up his
+glass, advanced towards the Knight.
+
+The gentleman was short, but stoutly knit, with a walk and a carriage
+of his head that, to Darcy's observant eye, bespoke an innate sense
+of self-importance; his dress was a greatcoat, cut jockey fashion, and
+ornamented with very large buttons, displaying heads of stags, foxes,
+and badgers, and other emblems of the chase, short Russia duck trousers,
+a wide-leaved straw hat, and a very loose cravat, knotted sailor-fashion
+on his breast. As he approached the Knight, he came to a full stop about
+half a dozen paces in front, and putting his hand to his hat, held
+it straight above his head, pretty much in the way stage imitators of
+Napoleon were wont to perform the salutation.
+
+“A stranger, sir, I presume?” said he, with an insinuating smile and an
+air of dignity at the same moment. Darcy bowed a courteous assent, and
+the other went on: “Sweet scene, sir,--lovely nature,--animated and
+grand.”
+
+“Most impressive, I confess,” said Darcy, with difficulty repressing a
+smile.
+
+“Never here before, I take it?”
+
+“Never, sir.”
+
+“Came from Coleraine, possibly? Walked all the way, eh?”
+
+“I came on foot, as you have divined,” said Darcy, dryly.
+
+“Not going to make any stay, probably; a mere glance, and go on again.
+Is n't that so?”
+
+“I believe you are quite correct; but may I, in return for your
+considerate inquiries, ask one question on my own part? You are,
+perhaps, sufficiently acquainted with the locality to inform me if a
+Miss Daly resides in this village, and where.”
+
+“Miss Daly, sir, did inhabit that cottage yonder, where you see the oars
+on the thatch, but it has been let to the Moors of Ballymena; they pay
+two-ten a week for the three rooms and the use of the kitchen; smart
+that, ain't it?”
+
+“And Miss Daly resides at present--”
+
+“She 's one of us,” said the little man, with a significant jerk of his
+thumb to the blue board with the gilt letters; “not much of that, after
+all; but she lives under the sway of 'Mother Fum,' though, from one
+caprice or another, she don't mix with the other boarders. Do you know
+her yourself?”
+
+“I had that honor some years ago.”
+
+“Much altered, I take it, since that; down in the world too! She was an
+heiress in those days, I 've heard, and a beauty. Has some of the good
+looks still, but lost all the shiners.”
+
+“Am I likely to find her at home at this hour?” said Darcy, moving away,
+and anxious for an opportunity to escape his communicative friend.
+
+“No, not now; never shows in the morning. Just comes down to dinner, and
+disappears again. Never takes a hand at whist--penny points tell up, you
+know--seem a trifle at first, but hang me if they don't make a figure
+in the budget afterwards. There, do you see that fat lady with the black
+bathing-cap?--no, I mean the one with the blue baize patched on the
+shoulder, the Widow Mackie,--she makes a nice thing of it,--won twelve
+and fourpence since the first of the month. Pretty creature that yonder,
+with one stocking on,--Miss Boyle, of Carrick-maclash.”
+
+“I must own,” said Darcy, dryly, “that, not having the privilege of
+knowing these ladies, I do not conceive myself at liberty to regard them
+with due attention.”
+
+“Oh! they never mind that here; no secrets among us.”
+
+“Very primitive, and doubtless very delightful; but I have trespassed
+too long on your politeness. Permit me to wish you a very good morning.”
+
+“Not at all; having nothing in the world to do. Paul Dempsey--that's
+my name--was always an idle man; Paul Dempsey, sir, nephew of old Paul
+Dempsey, of Dempsey Grove, in the county of Kilkenny; a snug place, that
+I wish the proprietor felt he had enjoyed sufficiently long. And your
+name, if I might make bold, is--”
+
+“I call myself Gwynne,” said Darcy, after a slight hesitation.
+
+“Gwynne--Gwynne--there was a Gwynne, a tailor, in Ballyragget; a
+connection, probably?”
+
+“I 'm not aware of any relationship,” said Darcy, smiling.
+
+“I 'm glad of it; I owe your brother or your cousin there--that is,
+if he was either--a sum of seven-and-nine for these ducks. There are
+Gwynnes in Ross besides, and Quins; are you sure it is not Quin? Very
+common name Quin.”
+
+[Illustration: 024]
+
+“I believe we spell our name as I have pronounced it.” “Well, if you
+come to spend a little time here, I 'll give you a hint or two. Don't
+join Leonard--that blue-nosed fellow, yonder, in whiskey. He 'll be
+asking you, but don't--at it all day.” Here Mr. Dempsey pantomimed the
+action of tossing off a dram. “No whist with the widow; if you were
+younger, I 'd say no small plays with Bess Boyle,--has a brother in the
+Antrim militia, a very quarrelsome fellow.”
+
+“I thank you sincerely for your kind counsel, although not destined to
+profit by it. I have one favor to ask: could you procure me the means to
+enclose my card for Miss Daly, as I must relinquish the hope of seeing
+her on this occasion?”
+
+“No, no,--stop and dine. Capital cod and oysters,--always good. The
+mutton _rayther_ scraggy, but with a good will and good teeth manageable
+enough; and excellent malt-”
+
+“I thank you for your hospitable proposal, but cannot accept it.”
+
+“Well, I 'll take care of your card; you 'll probably come over again
+soon. You 're at M'Grotty's, ain't you?”
+
+“Not at present; and as to the card, with your permission I'll enclose
+it.” This Darcy was obliged to insist upon; as, if he left his name as
+Gwynne, Miss Daly might have failed to recognize him, while he desired
+to avoid being known as Mr. Darcy.
+
+“Well, come in here; I 'll find you the requisites. But I wish you 'd
+stop and see the 'Panther.'”
+
+Had the Knight overheard this latter portion of Mr.
+
+Dempsey's invitation, he might have been somewhat surprised; but it
+chanced that the words were lost, and, preceded by honest Paul, he
+entered the little garden in front of the house.
+
+When Darcy had enclosed his card and committed it to the hands of Mr.
+Dempsey, that gentleman was far too deeply impressed with the importance
+of his mission to delay a moment in executing it, and then the Knight
+was at last left at liberty to retrace his steps unmolested towards
+home. If he had smiled at the persevering curiosity and eccentric
+communicativeness of Mr. Dempsey, Darcy sorrowed deeply over the fallen
+fortunes which condemned one he had known so courted and so flattered
+once, to companionship like this. The words of the classic satirist
+came full upon his memory, and never did a sentiment meet more ready
+acceptance than the bitter, heart-wrung confession, “Unhappy poverty!
+you have no heavier misery in your train than that you make men seem
+ridiculous.” A hundred times he wished he had never made the excursion;
+he would have given anything to be able to think of her as she had been,
+without the detracting influence of these vulgar associations. “And
+yet,” said he, half aloud, “a year or so more, if I am still living,
+I shall probably have forgotten my former position, and shall have
+conformed myself to the new and narrow limits of my lot, doubtless as
+she does.”
+
+The quick tramp of feet on the heather behind him roused him, and, in
+turning, he saw a person coming towards and evidently endeavouring
+to overtake him. As he came nearer, the Knight perceived it was the
+gentleman already alluded to by Dempsey as one disposed to certain
+little traits of conviviality,--a fact which a nose of a deep copper
+color, and two bloodshot, bleary eyes, corroborated. His dress was a
+blue frock with a standing collar, military fashion, and dark trousers;
+and, although bearing palpable marks of long wear, were still neat and
+clean-looking. His age, as well as appearances might be trusted, was
+probably between fifty and sixty.
+
+“Mr. Gwynne, I believe, sir,” said the stranger, touching his cap as he
+spoke. “Miss Daly begged of me to say that she has just received your
+card, and will be happy to see you.”
+
+Darcy stared at the speaker fixedly, and appeared, while unmindful of
+his words, to be occupied with some deep emotion within him. The other,
+who had delivered his message in a tone of easy unconcern, now fixed his
+eyes on the Knight, and they continued for some seconds to regard each
+other. Gradually, however, the stranger's face changed; a sickly pallor
+crept over the features stained by long intemperance, his lip trembled,
+and two heavy tears gushed out and rolled down his seared cheeks.
+
+“My G--d! can it be? It surely is not!” said Darcy, with almost
+tremulous earnestness.
+
+“Yes, Colonel, it is the man you once remembered in your regiment as
+Jack Leonard; the same who led a forlorn hope at Quebec,--the man
+broke with disgrace and dismissed the service for cowardice at Trois
+Rivières.”
+
+“Poor fellow!” said Darcy, taking his hand; “I heard you were dead.”
+
+“No, sir, it's very hard to kill a man by mere shame: though if
+suffering could do it, I might have died.”
+
+“I have often doubted about that sentence, Leonard,” said Darcy,
+eagerly. “I wrote to the commander-in-chief to have inquiry made,
+suspecting that nothing short of some affection of the mind or some
+serious derangement of health could make a brave man behave badly.”
+
+“You were right, sir; I was a drunkard, not a coward. I was unworthy of
+the service; I merited my disgrace, but not on the grounds for which I
+met it.”
+
+“Good Heaven! then I was right,” said Darcy, in a burst of passionate
+grief; “my letter to the War Office was unanswered. I wrote again,
+and received for reply that an example was necessary, and Lieutenant
+Leonard's conduct pointed him out as the most suitable case for heavy
+punishment.”
+
+“It was but just, Colonel; I was a poltroon when I took more than half a
+bottle of wine. If I were not sober now, I could not have the courage to
+face you here where I stand.”
+
+“Poor Jack!” said Darcy, wringing his hand cordially; “and what have you
+done since?”
+
+Leonard threw his eyes down upon his threadbare garments, his patched
+boots, and the white-worn seams of his old frock, but not a word escaped
+his lips. They walked on for some time side by side without speaking,
+when Leonard said,--
+
+“They know nothing of me here, Colonel. I need not ask you to
+be--cautious.” There was a hesitation before he uttered the last word.
+
+“I do not desire to be recognized, either,” said Darcy, “and prefer
+being called Mr. Gwynne to the name of my family; and here, if I mistake
+not, comes a gentleman most eager to learn anything of anybody.”
+
+Mr. Dempsey came up at this moment with a lady leaning on each of his
+arms.
+
+“Glad to see you again, sir; hope you 've thought better of your plans,
+and are going to try Mother Fum's fare. Mrs. M'Quirk, Mr. Gwynne--Mr.
+Gwynne, Miss Drew. Leonard will do the honors till we come back.” So
+saying, and with a princely wave of his straw hat, Mr. Dempsey resumed
+his walk with the step of a conqueror.
+
+“That fellow must be a confounded annoyance to you,” said Darcy, as he
+looked after him.
+
+“Not now, sir,” said the other, submissively; “I 'm used to him;
+besides, since Miss Daly's arrival he is far quieter than he used to be,
+he seems afraid of her. But I 'll leave you now, Colonel.” He touched
+his cap respectfully, and was about to move away, when Darcy, pitying
+the confusion which overwhelmed him, caught his hand cordially, and
+said,--
+
+“Well, Jack, for the moment, good-bye; but come over and see me. I live
+at the little cottage called 'The Corvy.'”
+
+“Good Heaven, sir! and it is true what I read in the newspaper about
+your misfortunes?”
+
+“I conclude it is, Jack, though I have not read it; they could scarcely
+have exaggerated.”
+
+“And you bear it like this!” said the other, with a stare of amazement;
+then added, in a broken voice, “Though, to be sure, there 's a wide
+difference between loss of fortune and ruined character.”
+
+“Come, Jack, I see you are not so good a philosopher as I thought you.
+Come and dine with me to-morrow at five.”
+
+“Dine with _you_, Colonel!” said Leonard, blushing deeply.
+
+“And why not, man? I see you have not forgotten the injustice I once did
+you, and I am happier this day to know it was I was in the wrong than
+that a British officer was a coward.”
+
+“Oh, Colonel Darcy, I did not think this poor broken heart could ever
+throb again with gratitude, but you have made it do so; you have kindled
+the flame of pride where the ashes were almost cold.” And with a burning
+blush upon his face he turned away. Darcy looked after him for a second,
+and then entered the house.
+
+Darcy had barely time to throw one glance around the scanty furniture of
+the modest parlor into which he was ushered, when Miss Daly entered. She
+stopped suddenly short, and for a few seconds each regarded the
+other without speaking. Time had, indeed, worked many changes in the
+appearance of each for which they were unprepared; but no less were they
+unprepared for the emotions this sudden meeting was to call up.
+
+Miss Daly was plainly but handsomely dressed, and wore her silvery hair
+beneath a cap in two long bands on either cheek, with something of an
+imitation of a mode she followed in youth; the tones of her voice,
+too, were wonderfully little changed, and fell upon Darcy's ears with a
+strange, melancholy meaning.
+
+“We little thought, Knight,” said she, “when we parted last, that our
+next meeting would have been as this, so many years and many sorrows
+have passed over us since that day!”
+
+“And a large measure of happiness, too, Maria,” said Darcy, as, taking
+her hand, he led her to a seat; “let us never forget, amid all our
+troubles, how many blessings we have enjoyed.”
+
+Whether it was the words themselves that agitated her, or something in
+his manner of uttering them, Miss Daly blushed deeply and was silent.
+Darcy was not slow to see her confusion, and suddenly remembering how
+inapplicable his remark was to her fortunes, though not to his own,
+added hastily, “I, at least, would be very ungrateful if I could not
+look back with thankfulness to a long life of prosperity and happiness;
+and if I bear my present reverses with less repining, it is, I hope and
+trust, from the sincerity of this feeling.”
+
+“You have enjoyed the sunny path in life,” said Miss Daly, in a low,
+faint voice, “and it is, perhaps, as you say, reason for enduring
+altered fortunes better.” She paused, and then, with a more hurried
+voice, added: “One does not bear calamity better from habit; that is all
+a mistake. When the temper is soured by disappointment, the spirit of
+endurance loses its firmest ally. Your misfortunes will, however, be
+short-lived, I hope; my brother writes me he has great confidence
+in some legal opinions, and certain steps he has already taken in
+chancery.”
+
+“The warm-hearted and the generous are always sanguine,” said Darcy,
+with a sad smile; “Bagenal would not be your brother if he could see a
+friend in difficulty without venturing on everything to rescue him. What
+an old friendship ours has been! class fellows at school, companions in
+youth, we have run our race together, to end with fortune how similar!
+I was thinking, Maria, as I came along, of Castle Daly, and remembering
+how I passed my holidays with you there. Is your memory as good as
+mine?”
+
+“I scarcely like to think of Castle Daly,” said she, almost pettishly,
+“it reminds me so much of that wasteful, reckless life which laid the
+foundation of our ruin. Tell me how Lady Eleanor Darcy bears up, and
+your daughter, of whom I have heard so much, and desire so ardently to
+see; is she more English or Irish?”
+
+“A thorough Darcy,” said the Knight, smiling, “but yet with traits of
+soft submission and patient trust our family has been but rarely gifted
+with; her virtues are all the mother's, every blemish of her character
+has come from the other side.”
+
+“Is she rash and headstrong? for those are Darcy failings.”
+
+“Not more daring or courageous than I love her to be,” said Darcy,
+proudly, “not a whit more impetuous in sustaining the right or
+denouncing the wrong than I glory to see her; but too ardent, perhaps,
+too easily carried away by first impressions, than is either fashionable
+or frequent in the colder world.”
+
+“It is a dangerous temper,” said Miss Daly, thoughtfully.
+
+“You are right, Maria; such people are for the most part like the
+gamester who has but one throw for his fortune, if he loses which, all
+is lost with it.”
+
+“Too true, too true!” said she, in an accent whose melancholy sadness
+seemed to come from the heart. “You must guard her carefully from any
+rash attachment; a character like hers is strong to endure, but not less
+certain to sink under calamity.”
+
+“I know it, I feel it,” said Darcy; “but my dear child is still too
+young to have mixed in that world which is already closed against her;
+her affections could never have strayed beyond the limits of our little
+home circle; she has kept all her love for those who need it most.”
+
+“And Lady Eleanor?” said Miss Daly, as if suddenly desirous to change
+the theme: “Bagenal tells me her health has been but indifferent; how
+does she bear our less genial climate here?”
+
+“She 's better than for many years past; I could even say she 's
+happier. Strange it is, Maria, but the course of prosperity, like the
+calms in the ocean, too frequently steep the faculties in an apathy that
+becomes weariness; but when the clouds are drifted along faster, and the
+waves rustle at the prow, the energies of life are again excited, and
+the very occasion of danger begets the courage to confront it. We cannot
+be happy when devoid of self-esteem, and there is but little opportunity
+to indulge this honest pride when the world goes fairly with us, without
+any effort of our own; reverses of fortune--”
+
+“Oh, reverses of fortune!” interrupted Miss Daly, rapidly, “people think
+much more about them than they merit; it is the world itself makes them
+so difficult to bear; one can think and act as freely beneath the thatch
+of a cabin as the gilded roof of a palace. It is the mock sympathy,
+the affected condolence for your fallen estate, that tortures you; the
+never-ending recurrence to what you once were, contrasted with what
+you are; the cruelty of that friendship that is never content save when
+reminding you of a station lost forever, and seeking to unfit you for
+your humble path in the valley because your step was once proudly on the
+mountain-top.”
+
+“I will not concede all this,” said the Knight, mildly; “my fall has
+been too recent not to remind me of many kindnesses.”
+
+“I hate pity,” said Miss Daly; “it is like a recommendation to mercy
+after the sentence of an unjust judge. Now tell me of Lionel.”
+
+“A fine, high-spirited soldier, as little affected by his loss as though
+it touched him not; and yet, poor boy! to all appearance a bright career
+was about to open before him,--well received by the world, honored by
+the personal notice of his Prince.”
+
+“Ha! now I think of it, why did you not vote against the Minister?”
+
+“It was on that evening,” said Darcy, sorrowfully,--“on that very
+evening--I heard of Gleeson's flight.”
+
+“Well,”--then suddenly correcting herself, and restraining the question
+that almost trembled on her lip, she added, “And you were, doubtless,
+too much shocked to appear in the House?”
+
+“I was ill,” said Darcy, faintly; “indeed, I believe I can say with
+truth, my own ruin preyed less upon my mind than the perfidy of one so
+long confided in.”
+
+“And they made this accidental illness the ground of a great attack
+against your character, and sought to discover in your absence the
+secret of your corruption. How basely minded men must be, when they will
+invent not only actions, but motives to calumniate!” She paused, and
+then muttered to herself, “I wish you had voted against that Bill.”
+
+“It would have done little good,” said the Knight, answering her
+soliloquy; “my vote could neither retard nor prevent the measure, and
+as for myself, personally, I am proud enough to think I have given
+sufficient guarantees by a long life of independent action, not to need
+this crowning test of honesty. Now to matters nearer to us both: when
+will you come and visit my wife and daughter? or shall I bring them here
+to you?”
+
+“No, no, not here. I am not ashamed of this place for myself, though I
+should be so if they were once to see it.”
+
+“But you feel less lonely,” said Darcy, in a gentle tone, as if
+anticipating the reason of her choice of residence.
+
+“Less lonely!” replied she, with a haughty laugh; “what companionship or
+society have I with people like these? It is not that,--it is my poverty
+compels me to live here. Of them and of their habits I know nothing;
+from me and from mine they take good care to keep aloof. No, with your
+leave I will visit Lady Eleanor at your cottage,--that is, if she has no
+objection to receive me.”
+
+“She will be but too happy,” said Darcy, “to know and value one of her
+husband's oldest and warmest friends.”
+
+“You must not expect me soon, however,” said she, hastily; “I have grown
+capricious in everything, and never can answer for performing a pledge
+at any stated time, and therefore never make one.”
+
+Abrupt and sudden as had been the changes of her voice and manner
+through this interview, there was a tone of unusual harshness in the way
+this speech was uttered; and as Darcy rose to take his leave, a feeling
+of sadness came over him to think that this frame of mind must have been
+the slow result of years of heart-consuming sorrow.
+
+“Whenever you come, Maria,” said he, as he took her hand in his, “you
+will be most welcome to us.”
+
+“Have you heard any tidings of Forester?” said Miss Daly, as if suddenly
+recalling a subject she wished to speak on.
+
+“Forester of the Guards? Lionel's friend, do you mean?”
+
+“Yes; you know that he has left the army, thrown up his commission, and
+gone no one knows where?”
+
+“I did not know of that before. I am sincerely sorry for it. Is the
+cause surmised?”
+
+Miss Daly made no answer, but stood with her eyes bent on the ground,
+and apparently in deep thought; then looking up suddenly, she said, with
+more composure than ordinary, “Make my compliments to Lady Eleanor, and
+say that at the first favorable moment I will pay my personal respects
+to her--kiss Helen for me--good-bye.” And, without waiting for Darcy to
+take his leave, she walked hastily by, and closed the door after her.
+
+“This wayward manner,” said Darcy, sorrowfully, to himself, “has a
+deeper root than mere capriciousness; the heart has suffered so long
+that the mind begins to partake of the decay.” And with this sad
+reflection he left the village, and turned his solitary steps towards
+home.
+
+If Darcy was grieved to find Miss Daly surrounded by such unsuitable
+companionship, he was more thau recompensed at finding that her taste
+rejected nearer intimacy with Mrs. Fumbally's household. More than once
+the fear crossed his mind that, with diminished circumstances, she might
+have lapsed into habits so different from her former life, and he could
+better look upon her struggling as she did against her adverse fortune
+than assimilating herself to those as much below her in sentiment as in
+station. He was happy to have seen his old friend once more, he was glad
+to refresh his memory of long-forgotten scenes by the sight of her who
+had been his playfellow and his companion, but he was not free of a
+certain dread that Miss Daly would scarcely be acceptable to his wife,
+while her wayward, uncertain temper would form no safe companionship
+for his daughter. As he pondered on these things, he began to feel how
+altered circumstances beget suspicion, and how he, who had never known
+the feeling of distrust, now found himself hesitating and doubting,
+where formerly he had acted without fear or reserve.
+
+“Yes,” said he, aloud, “when wealth and station were mine, the
+consciousness of power gave energy to my thoughts, but now I am to learn
+how narrow means can fetter a man's courage.”
+
+“Some truth in that,” said a voice behind him; “would cut a very
+different figure myself if old Bob Dempsey, of Dempsey Grove, were to
+betake himself to a better world.”
+
+Darcy's cheek reddened between shame and anger to find himself overheard
+by his obtrusive companion, and, with a cold salute, he passed on. Mr.
+Dempsey, however, was not a man to be so easily got rid of; he possessed
+that happy temper that renders its owner insensible to shame and
+unconscious of rebuke; besides that, he was always “going your way,”
+ quite content to submit to any amount of rebuff rather than be alone.
+If you talked, it was well; if you listened, it was better; but if you
+affected open indifference to him, and neither exchanged a word nor
+vouchsafed the slightest attention, even that was supportable, for he
+could give the conversation a character of monologue or anecdote, which
+occupied himself at least.
+
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER II. A TALE OF MR. DEMPSEY'S GRANDFATHER
+
+The Knight of Gwynne was far too much occupied in his own reflections
+to attend to his companion, and exhibited a total unconcern to several
+piquant little narratives of Mrs. Mackie's dexterity in dealing the
+cards, of Mrs. Fumbally's parsimony in domestic arrangements, of Miss
+Boyle's effrontery, of Leonard's intemperance, and even of Miss Daly's
+assumed superiority.
+
+“You 're taking the wrong path,” said Mr. Dempsey, suddenly interrupting
+one of his own narratives, at a spot where the two roads diverged,--one
+proceeding inland, while the other followed the line of the coast.
+
+“With your leave, sir,” said Darcy, coldly, “I will take this way, and
+if you 'll kindly permit it, I will do so alone.”
+
+“Oh, certainly!” said Dempsey, without the slightest sign of umbrage;
+“would never have thought of joining you had it not been from
+overhearing an expression so exactly pat to my own condition, that I
+thought we were brothers in misfortune; you scarcely bear up as well as
+I do, though.”
+
+Darcy turned abruptly round, as the fear flashed across him, and he
+muttered to himself, “This fellow knows me; if so, the whole county will
+soon be as wise as himself, and the place become intolerable.” Oppressed
+with this unpleasant reflection, the Knight moved on, nor was it till
+after a considerable interval that he was conscious of his companion's
+presence; for Mr. Dempsey still accompanied him, though at the distance
+of several paces, and as if following a path of his own choosing.
+
+Darcy laughed good-humoredly at the pertinacity of his tormentor; and
+half amused by the man, and half ashamed of his own rudeness to him, he
+made some casual observation on the scenery to open a reconciliation.
+
+“The coast is much finer,” said Dempsey, “close to your cottage.”
+
+This was a home-thrust for the Knight, to show him that concealment was
+of no use against so subtle an adversary.
+
+“'The Corvy' is, as you observe, very happily situated,” replied Darcy,
+calmly; “I scarcely know which to prefer,--the coast-line towards
+Dunluce, or the bold cliffs that stretch away to Bengore.”
+
+“When the wind comes north-by-west,” said Dempsey, with a shrewd glance
+of his greenish gray eyes, “there 's always a wreck or two between the
+Skerries and Portrush.”
+
+“Indeed! Is the shore so unsafe as that?”
+
+“Oh, yes. You may expect a very busy winter here when the homeward-bound
+Americans are coming northward.”
+
+“D----n the fellow! does he take me for a wrecker?” said Darcy to
+himself, not knowing whether to laugh or be angry.
+
+“Such a curiosity that old 'Corvy' is, they tell me,” said Dempsey,
+emboldened by his success; “every species of weapon and arm in the
+world, they say, gathered together there.”
+
+“A few swords and muskets,” said the Knight, carelessly; “a stray dirk
+or two, and some harpoons, furnish the greater part of the armory.”
+
+“Oh, perhaps so! The story goes, however, that old Daly--brother, I
+believe, of our friend at Mother Fum's--could arm twenty fellows at a
+moment's warning, and did so on more than one occasion too.”
+
+“With what object, in Heaven's name?”
+
+“Buccaneering, piracy, wrecking, and so on,” said Dempsey, with all the
+unconcern with which he would have enumerated so many pursuits of the
+chase.
+
+A hearty roar of laughter broke from the Knight; and when it ceased he
+said, “I would be sincerely sorry to stand in your shoes, Mr. Dempsey,
+so near to yonder cliff, if you made that same remark in Mr. Daly's
+hearing.”
+
+“He 'd gain very little by me,” said Mr. Dempsey; “one and eightpence,
+an old watch, an oyster-knife, and my spectacles, are all the property
+in my possession--except, when, indeed,” added he, after a pause, “Bob
+remits the quarter's allowance.”
+
+“It is only just,” said Darcy, gravely, “to a gentleman who takes such
+pains to inform himself on the affairs of his neighbors, that I should
+tell you that Mr. Bagenal Daly is not a pirate, nor am I a wrecker. I
+am sure you will be generous enough for this unasked information not to
+require of me a more lengthened account either of my friend or myself.”
+
+“You 're in the Revenue, perhaps?” interrupted the undaunted Dempsey; “I
+thought so when I saw you first.”
+
+Darcy shook his head in dissent.
+
+“Wrong again. Ah! I see it all; the old story. Saw better days--you have
+just come down here to lie snug and quiet, out of the way of writs and
+latitats--went too fast--by Jove, that touches myself too! If I hadn't
+happened to have a grandfather, I 'd have been a rich man this day. Did
+you ever chance to hear of Dodd and Dempsey, the great wine-merchants?
+My father was son of Dodd and Dempsey,--that is Dempsey, you know; and
+it was his father-Sam Dempsey--ruined him.”
+
+“No very uncommon circumstance,” said the Knight, sorrowfully, “for an
+Irish father.”
+
+“You 've heard the story, I suppose?--of course you have; every one
+knows it.”
+
+“I rather think not,” said the Knight, who was by no means sorry to turn
+Mr. Dempsey from cross-examination into mere narrative.
+
+“I 'll tell it to you; I am sure I ought to know it well, I 've heard my
+father relate it something like a hundred times.”
+
+“I fear I must decline so pleasant a proposal,” said Darcy, smiling. “At
+this moment I have an engagement.”
+
+“Never mind. To-morrow will do just as well,” interrupted the inexorable
+Dempsey. “Come over and take your mutton-chop with me at five, and you
+shall have the story into the bargain.”
+
+“I regret that I cannot accept so very tempting an invitation,”
+ said Darcy, struggling between his sense of pride and a feeling of
+astonishment at his companion's coolness.
+
+“Not come to dinner!” exclaimed Dempsey, as if the thing was scarcely
+credible. “Oh, very well, only remember”--and here he put an unusual
+gravity into his words--“only remember the _onus_ is now on you.”
+
+The Knight burst into a hearty laugh at this subtle retort, and, willing
+as he ever was to go with the humor of the moment, replied,--
+
+“I am ready to accept it, sir, and beg that you will dine with me.”
+
+“When and where?” said Dempsey.
+
+“To-morrow, at that cottage yonder: five is your hour, I believe--we
+shall say five.”
+
+“Booked!” exclaimed Dempsey, with an air of triumph; while he muttered,
+with a scarcely subdued voice, “Knew I'd do it!--never failed in my
+life!”
+
+“Till then, Mr. Dempsey,” said Darcy, removing his hat courteously, as
+he bowed to him,--“till then--”
+
+“Your most obedient,” replied Dempsey, returning the salute; and so they
+parted.
+
+“The Corvy,” on the day after the Knight's visit to Port Ballintray, was
+a scene of rather amusing bustle; the Knight's dinner-party, as Helen
+quizzingly called it, affording occupation for every member of
+the household. In former times, the only difficult details of an
+entertainment were in the selection of the guests,--bringing together
+a company likely to be suitable to each other, and endowed with those
+various qualities which make up the success of society; now, however,
+the question was the more material one,--the dinner itself.
+
+It is always a fortunate thing when whatever absurdity our calamities in
+life excite should be apparent only to ourselves. The laugh which is
+so difficult to bear from the world is then an actual relief from our
+troubles. The Darcys felt this truth, as each little embarrassment that
+arose was food for mirth; and Lady Eleanor, who least of all could adapt
+herself to such contingencies, became as eager as the rest about the
+little preparations of the day.
+
+While the Knight hurried hither and thither, giving directions here and
+instructions there, he explained to Lady Eleanor some few circumstances
+respecting the character of his guests. It was, indeed, a new kind of
+company he was about to present to his wife and daughter; but while
+conscious of the disparity in every respect, he was not the less eager
+to do the hospitalities of his humble house with all becoming honor. It
+is true his invitation to Mr. Dempsey was rather forced from him than
+willingly accorded; he was about the very last kind of person Darcy
+would have asked to his table, if perfectly free to choose; but, of all
+men living, the Knight knew least how to escape from a difficulty the
+outlet to which should cost him any sacrifice of feeling.
+
+“Well, well, it is but once and away; and, after all, the talkativeness
+of our little friend Dempsey will be so far a relief to poor Leonard,
+that he will be brought less prominently forward himself, and be
+suffered to escape unremarked,--a circumstance which, from all that I
+can see, will afford him sincere pleasure.”
+
+At length all the preparations were happily accomplished: the emissary
+despatched to Kilrush at daybreak had returned with a much-coveted
+turkey; the fisherman had succeeded in capturing a lordly salmon;
+oysters and lobsters poured in abundantly; and Mrs. M'Kerrigan, who had
+been left as a fixture at “The Corvy,” found her only embarrassment in
+selection from that profusion of “God's gifts,” as she phrased it, that
+now surrounded her. The hour of five drew near, and the ladies were
+seated in the hall, the doors of which lay open, as the two guests were
+seen making their way towards the cottage.
+
+“Here they come, papa,” said Helen; “and now for a guess. Is not the
+short man with the straw hat Mr. Dempsey, and his tall companion Mr.
+Leonard?”
+
+“Of course it is,” said Lady Eleanor; “who could mistake the garrulous
+pertinacity of that little thing that gesticulates at every step, or the
+plodding patience of his melancholy associate?”
+
+The next moment the Knight was welcoming them in front of the cottage.
+The ceremony of introduction to the ladies being over, Mr. Dempsey, who
+probably was aware that the demands upon his descriptive powers would
+not be inconsiderable when he returned to “Mother Fum's,” put his glass
+to his eye, and commenced a very close scrutiny of the apartment and its
+contents.
+
+[Illustration: 042]
+
+“Quite a show-box, by Jove!” said he, at last, as he peered through a
+glass cabinet, where Chinese slippers, with models in ivory and carvings
+in box, were heaped promiscuously together; “upon my word, sir, you
+have a very remarkable collection. And who may be our friend in the boat
+here?” added he, turning to the grim visage of Bagenal Daly himself,
+who stared with a bold effrontery that would not have disgraced the
+original.
+
+“The gentleman you see there,” said the Knight, “is the collector
+himself, and the other is his servant. They are represented in the
+costumes in which they made their escape from a captivity among the red
+men.”
+
+“Begad!” said Dempsey, “that fellow with the tortoise painted on his
+forehead has a look of our old friend, Miss Daly; should n't wonder if
+he was a member of her family.”
+
+“You have well guessed it; he is the lady's brother.”
+
+“Ah, ah!” muttered Dempsey to himself, “always thought there was
+something odd about her,--never suspected Indian blood, however. How
+Mother Fum will stare when I tell her she's a Squaw! Didn't they
+show these things at the Rooms in Mary's Street? I think I saw them
+advertised in the papers.”
+
+“I think you must mistake,” said the Knight; “they are the private
+collection of my friend.”
+
+“And where may Woc-woc--confound his name!--the 'Howling Wind,' as he is
+pleased to call himself, be passing his leisure hours just now?”
+
+“He is at present in Dublin, sir; and if you desire, he shall be made
+aware of your polite inquiries.”
+
+“No, no--hang it, no!--don't like the look of him. Should have no
+objection, though, if he 'd pay old Bob Dempsey a visit, and frighten
+him out of this world for me.”
+
+“Dinner, my lady,” said old Tate, as he threw open the doors into the
+dining-room, and bowed with all his accustomed solemnity.
+
+“Hum!” muttered Dempsey, “my lady won't go down with me,-too old a
+soldier for that!”
+
+“Will you give my daughter your arm?” said the Knight to the little man,
+for already Lady Eleanor had passed on with Mr. Leonard.
+
+As Mr. Dempsey arranged his napkin on his knee, he endeavored to catch
+Leonard's eye, and telegraph to him his astonishment at the elegance of
+the table equipage which graced the board. Poor Leonard, however, seldom
+looked up; a deep sense of shame, the agonizing memory of what he once
+was, recalled vividly by the sight of those objects, and the appearance
+of persons which reminded him of his past condition, almost stunned him.
+The whole seemed like a dream; even though intemperance had degraded
+him, there were intervals in which his mind, clear to see and reflect,
+sorrowed deeply over his fallen state. Had the Knight met him with a
+cold and repulsive deportment, or had he refused to acknowledge him
+altogether, he could better have borne it than all the kindness of his
+present manner. It was evident, too, from Lady Eleanor's tone to him,
+that she knew nothing of his unhappy fortune, or that if she did,
+the delicacy with which she treated him was only the more benevolent.
+Oppressed by such emotions, he sat endeavoring to eat, and trying to
+listen and interest himself in the conversation around him; but the
+effort was too much for his strength, and a vague, half-whispered
+assent, or a dull, unmeaning smile, were about as much as he could
+contribute to what was passing.
+
+The Knight, whose tact was rarely at fault, saw every straggle that was
+passing in Leonard's mind, and adroitly contrived that the conversation
+should be carried on without any demand upon him, either as talker or
+listener. If Lady Eleanor and Helen contributed their aid to this end,
+Mr. Dempsey was not backward on his part, for he talked unceasingly.
+The good things of the table, to which he did ample justice, afforded
+an opportunity for catechizing the ladies in their skill in household
+matters; and Miss Darcy, who seemed immensely amused by the novelty of
+such a character, sustained her part to admiration, entering deeply into
+culinary details, and communicating receipts invented for the occasion.
+At another time, perhaps, the Knight would have checked the spirit of
+_persiflage_ in which his daughter indulged; but he suffered it now to
+take its course, well pleased that the mark of her ridicule was not only
+worthy of the sarcasm, but insensible to its arrow.
+
+“Quite right,-quite right not to try Mother Fum's when you can get up a
+little thing like this,-and such capital sherry; look how Tom takes it
+in,-slips like oil over his lip!”
+
+Leonard looked up. An expression of rebuking severity for a moment
+crossed his features; but his eyes fell the next instant, and a low,
+faint sigh escaped him.
+
+“I ought to know what sherry is,--'Dodd and Dempsey's' was the great
+house for sherry.”
+
+“By the way,” said the Knight, “did not you promise me a little
+narrative of Dodd and Dempsey, when we parted yesterday?”
+
+“To be sure, I did. Will you have it now?”
+
+Lady Eleanor and Helen rose to withdraw; but Mr. Dempsey, who took the
+movement as significant, immediately interposed, by saying,--
+
+“Don't stir, ma'am,-sit down, ladies, I beg; there's nothing broad in
+the story,--it might be told before the maids of honor.”
+
+Lady Eleanor and Helen were thunderstruck at the explanation, and the
+Knight laughed till the tears came.
+
+“My dear Eleanor,” said he, “you really must accept Mr. Dempsey's
+assurance, and listen to his story now.”
+
+The ladies took their seats once more, and Mr. Dempsey, having filled
+his glass, drank off a bumper; but whether it was that the narrative
+itself demanded a greater exertion at his hands, or that the cold
+quietude of Lady Eleanor's manner abashed him, but he found a second
+bumper necessary before he commenced his task.
+
+“I say,” whispered he to the Knight, “couldn't you get that decanter out
+of Leonard's reach before I begin? He'll not leave a drop in it while I
+am talking.”
+
+As if he felt that, after his explanation, the tale should be more
+particularly addressed to Lady Eleanor, he turned his chair round so as
+to face her, and thus began:--
+
+“There was once upon a time, ma'am, a Lord-Lieutenant of Ireland who was
+a Duke. Whether he was Duke of Rutland, or Bedford, or Portland, or any
+other title it was he had, my memory does n't serve me; it is enough,
+however, if I say he was immensely rich, and, like many other people in
+the same way, immensely in debt. The story goes that he never travelled
+through England, and caught sight of a handsome place, or fine domain,
+or a beautiful cottage, that he did n't go straightway to the owner and
+buy it down out of the face, as a body might say, whether he would or
+no. And so in time it came to pass that there was scarcely a county in
+England without some magnificent house belonging to him. In many parts
+of Scotland he had them too, and in all probability he would have done
+the same in Ireland, if he could. Well, ma'am, there never was such
+rejoicings as Dublin saw the night his Grace arrived to be our Viceroy.
+To know that we had got a man with one hundred and fifty thousand a
+year, and a spirit to spend double the money, was a downright blessing
+from Providence, and there was no saying what might not be the
+prosperity of Ireland under so auspicious a ruler.
+
+“To do him justice, he did n't balk public expectation. Open house at
+the Castle, ditto at the Lodge in the Park, a mansion full of guests in
+the county Wicklow, a pack of hounds in Kildare, twelve horses training
+at the Curragh, a yacht like a little man-of-war in Dunleary harbor,
+large subscriptions to everything like sport, and a pension for life to
+every man that could sing a jolly song, or write a witty bit of poetry.
+Well, ma'am, they say, who remember those days, that they saw the best
+of Ireland; and surely I believe, if his Grace had only lived, and had
+his own way, the peerage would have been as pleasant, and the bench of
+bishops as droll, and the ladies of honor as--Well, never mind, I 'll
+pass on.” Here Mr. Dempsey, to console himself for the abruptness of his
+pause, poured out and drank another bumper of sherry. “Pleasant times
+they were.” said he, smacking his lips; “and faith, if Tom Leonard
+himself was alive then, the color of his nose might have made him
+Commander of the Forces; but, to continue, it was Dodd and Dempsey's
+house supplied the sherry,-only the sherry, ma'am; old Stewart, of
+Belfast, had the port, and Kinnahan the claret and lighter liquors. I
+may mention, by the way, that my grandfather's contract included brandy,
+and that he would n't have given it up for either of the other two. It
+was just about this time that Dodd died, and my grandfather was left
+alone in the firm; but whether it was out of respect for his late
+partner, or that he might have felt himself lonely, but he always kept
+up the name of Dodd on the brass plate, and signed the name along with
+his own; indeed, they say that he once saluted his wife by the name of
+Mrs. Dodd and Dempsey. But, as I was saying, it was one of those days
+when my grandfather was seated on a high stool in the back office of
+his house in Abbey Street, that a fine, tall young fellow, with a blue
+frock-coat, all braided with gold, and an elegant cocked-hat, with
+a plume of feathers in it, came tramping into the room, his spurs
+jingling, and his brass sabre clinking, and his sabretash banging at his
+legs.
+
+“'Mr. Dempsey?' said he.
+
+“'D. and D.,' said my grandfather,--'that is, Dodd and Dempsey, your
+Grace,' for he half suspected it was the Duke himself.
+
+“'I am Captain M'Claverty, of the Scots Greys,' said he, 'first
+aide-de-camp to his Excellency.'
+
+“'I hope you may live to be colonel of the regiment,' said my
+grandfather, for he was as polite and well-bred as any man in Ireland.
+
+“'That's too good a sentiment,' said the captain, 'not to be pledged in
+a glass of your own sherry.'
+
+“'And we'll do it too,' said old Dempsey. And he opened the desk, and
+took out a bottle he had for his own private drinking, and uncorked it
+with a little pocket corkscrew he always carried about with him, and he
+produced two glasses, and he and the captain hobnobbed and drank to each
+other.
+
+“'Begad!' said the captain, 'his Grace sent me to thank you for the
+delicious wine you supplied him with, but it's nothing to this,---not to
+be compared to it.'
+
+“'I 've better again,' said my grandfather. 'I 've wine that would bring
+the tears into your eyes when you saw the decanter getting low.'
+
+“The captain stared at him, and maybe it was that the speech was too
+much for his nerves, but he drank off two glasses one after the other as
+quick as he could fill them out.
+
+“'Dempsey,' said he, looking round cautiously, 'are we alone?'
+
+“'We are,' said my grandfather.
+
+“'Tell me, then,' said M'Claverty, 'how could his Grace get a taste of
+this real sherry--for himself alone, I mean? Of course, I never thought
+of his giving it to the Judges, and old Lord Dunboyne, and such like.'
+
+“'Does he ever take a little sup in his own room, of an evening?'
+
+“'I am afraid not, but I 'll tell you how I think it might be managed.
+You 're a snug fellow, Dempsey, you 've plenty of money muddling away in
+the bank at three-and-a-half per cent; could n't you contrive, some way
+or other, to get into his Excellency's confidence, and lend him ten or
+fifteen thousand or so?'
+
+“'Ay, or twenty,' said my grandfather,--'or twenty, if he likes it'
+
+“'I doubt if he would accept such a sum,' said the captain, shaking his
+head; 'he has bags of money rolling in upon him every week or fortnight;
+sometimes we don't know where to put them.'
+
+“'Oh, of course,' said my grandfather; 'I meant no offence, I only said
+twenty, because, if his Grace would condescend, it is n't twenty, but a
+fifty thousand I could give him, and on the nail too.'
+
+“'You're a fine fellow, Dempsey, a devilish fine fellow; you 're the
+very kind of fellow the Duke likes,--open-handed, frank, and generous.'
+
+“'Do you really think he'd like me?' said my grandfather; and he rocked
+on the high stool, so that it nearly came down.
+
+“'Like you! I'll tell you what it is,' said he, laying his hand on my
+grandfather's knee, 'before one week was over, he could n't do without
+you. You 'd be there morning, noon, and night; your knife and fork
+always ready for you, just like one of the family.'
+
+“'Blood alive!' said my grandfather, 'do you tell me so?'
+
+“'I 'll bet you a hundred pounds on it, sir.'
+
+“'Done,' said my grandfather, 'and you must hold the stakes;' and with
+that he opened his black pocket-book, and put a note for the amount into
+the captain's hand.
+
+“'This is the 31st of March,' said the captain, taking out his pencil
+and tablets. 'I 'll just book the bet.'
+
+“And, indeed,” added Mr. Dempsey, “for that matter, if it was a day
+later it would have been only more suitable.
+
+“Well, ma'am, what passed between them afterwards I never heard said;
+but the captain took his leave, and left my grandfather so delighted and
+overjoyed that he finished all the sherry in the drawer, and when the
+head clerk came in to ask for an invoice, or a thing of the kind, he
+found old Mr. Dempsey with his wig on the high stool, and he bowing
+round it, and calling it your Grace. There 's no denying it, ma'am, he
+was blind drunk.
+
+“About ten days or a fortnight after this time, my grandfather received
+a note from Teesum and Twist, the solicitors, stating that the draft
+or the bond was already drawn up for the loan he was about to make his
+Grace, and begging to know to whom it was to be submitted.
+
+“'The captain will win his bet, devil a lie in it,' said my grandfather;
+'he's going to bring the Duke and myself together.'
+
+“Well, ma'am, I won't bother you with the law business, though if my
+father was telling the story he would not spare you one item of it
+all,--who read this, and who signed the other, and the objections that
+was made by them thieving attorneys! and how the Solicitor-General
+struck out this and put in that clause; but to tell you the truth,
+ma'am, I think that all the details spoil, what we may call, the poetry
+of the narrative; it is finer to say he paid the money, and the Duke
+pocketed it.
+
+“Well, weeks went over and months long, and not a bit of the Duke did
+my grandfather see, nor M'Claverty either; he never came near him. To be
+sure, his Grace drank as much sherry as ever; indeed, I believe out of
+love to my grandfather they drank little else. From the bishops and the
+chaplain, down to the battle-axe guards, it was sherry, morning, noon,
+and night; and though this was very pleasing to my grandfather, he was
+always wishing for the time when he was to be presented to his Grace,
+and their friendship was to begin. My grandfather could think of nothing
+else, daylight and dark. When he walked, he was always repeating to
+himself what his Grace might say to him, and what he would say to his
+Grace; and he was perpetually going up at eleven o'clock, when the guard
+was relieved in the Castle-yard, suspecting that every now and then
+a footman in blue and silver would come out, and, touching his elbow,
+whisper in his ear, 'Mr. Dempsey, the Duke 's waiting for you.' But, my
+dear ma'am, he might have waited till now, if Providence had spared him,
+and the devil a taste of the same message would ever have come near him,
+or a sight of the same footman in blue! It was neither more nor less
+than a delusion, or an illusion, or a confusion, or whatever the name of
+it is. At last, ma'am, in one of his prowlings about the Phoenix Park,
+who does he come on but M'Claverty? He was riding past in a great hurry;
+but he pulled up when he saw my grandfather, and called out, 'Hang it!
+who's this? I ought to know _you_.'
+
+“'Indeed you ought,' said my grandfather. 'I 'm Dodd and Dempsey, and
+by the same token there's a little bet between us, and I 'd like to know
+who won and who lost.'
+
+“'I think there's small doubt about that,' said the captain. 'Did n't
+his Grace borrow twenty thousand of you?'
+
+“'He did, no doubt of it.'
+
+“'And was n't it _my_ doing?'
+
+“'Upon my conscience, I can't deny it.'
+
+“'Well, then, I won the wager, that's clear.'
+
+“'Oh! I see now,' said my grandfather; 'that was the wager, was it? Oh,
+bedad! I think you might have given me odds, if that was our bet.'
+
+“'Why, what did you think it was?'
+
+“'Oh, nothing at all, sir. It's no matter now; it was another thing
+was passing in my mind. I was hoping to have the honor of making his
+acquaintance, nattered as I was by all you told me about him.'
+
+“'Ah! that's difficult, I confess,' said the captain; 'but still one
+might do something. He wants a little money just now. If you could make
+interest to be the lender, I would n't say that what you suggest is
+impossible.'
+
+“Well, ma'am, it was just as it happened before; the old story,--more
+parchment, more comparing of deeds, a heavy check on the bank for the
+amount.
+
+“When it was all done, M'Claverty came in one morning and in plain
+clothes to my grandfather's back office.
+
+“'Dodd and Dempsey,' said he, 'I 've been thinking over your business,
+and I'll tell you what my plan is. Old Vereker, the chamberlain, is
+little better than a beast, thinks nothing of anybody that is n't a
+lord or a viscount, and, in fact, if he had his will, the Lodge in the
+Phoenix would be more like Pekin in Tartary than anything else? but
+I 'll tell you, if he won't present you at the levee, which he flatly
+refuses at present, I 'll do the thing in a way of my own. His Grace is
+going to spend a week up at Ballyriggan House, in the county of Wicklow,
+and I 'll contrive it, when he 's taking his morning walk through the
+shrubbery, to present you. All you 've to do is to be ready at a turn of
+the walk. I 'll show you the place, you 'll hear his foot on the gravel,
+and you 'll slip out, just this way. Leave the rest to me.'
+
+“'It's beautiful,' said my grandfather. 'Begad, that's elegant.'
+
+“'There 's one difficulty,' said M'Claverty,--'one infernal difficulty.'
+
+“'What's that?' asked my grandfather.
+
+“'I may be obliged to be out of the way. I lost five fifties at Daly's
+the other night, and I may have to cross the water for a few weeks.'
+
+“'Don't let that trouble you,' said my grandfather; 'there's the paper.'
+And he put the little bit of music into his hand; and sure enough a
+pleasanter sound than the same crisp squeak of a new note no man ever
+listened to.
+
+“'It 's agreed upon now?' said my grandfather.
+
+“'All right,' said M'Claverty; and with a jolly slap on the shoulder, he
+said, 'Good-morning, D. and D. and away he went.
+
+“He was true to his word. That day three weeks my grandfather received
+a note in pencil; it was signed J. M'C, and ran thus: 'Be up at
+Ballyriggan at eleven o'clock on Wednesday, and wait at the foot of the
+hill, near the birch copse, beside the wooden bridge. Keep the left
+of the path, and lie still.' Begad, ma'am, it's well nobody saw it but
+himself, or they might have thought that Dodd and Dempsey was turned
+highwayman.
+
+“My grandfather was prouder of the same note, and happier that morning,
+than if it was an order for fifty butts of sherry. He read it over and
+over, and he walked up and down the little back office, picturing
+out the whole scene, settling the chairs till he made a little avenue
+between them, and practising the way he 'd slip out slyly and surprise
+his Grace. No doubt, it would have been as good as a play to have looked
+at him.
+
+“One difficulty preyed upon his mind,--what dress ought he to wear?
+Should he be in a court suit, or ought he rather to go in his robes as
+an alderman? It would never do to appear in a black coat, a light gray
+spencer, punch-colored shorts and gaiters, white hat with a strip of
+black crape on it,--mere Dodd and Dempsey! That wasn't to be thought of.
+If he could only ask his friend M'Hale, the fishmonger, who was knighted
+last year, he could tell all about it. M'Hale, however, would blab. He
+'d tell it to the whole livery; every alderman of Skinner's Alley would
+know it in a week. No, no, the whole must be managed discreetly; it was
+a mutual confidence between the Duke and 'D. and D.' 'At all events,'
+said my grandfather, 'a court dress is a safe thing;' and out he went
+and bespoke one, to be sent home that evening, for he could n't rest
+till he tried it on, and felt how he could move his head in the straight
+collar, and bow, without the sword tripping him up and pitching him into
+the Duke. I 've heard my father say that in the days that elapsed till
+the time mentioned for the interview, my grandfather lost two stone in
+weight. He walked half over the county Dublin, lying in ambush in every
+little wood he could see, and jumping out whenever he could see or
+hear any one coming,--little surprises which were sometimes taken as
+practical jokes, very unbecoming a man of his age and appearance.
+
+“Well, ma'am, Wednesday morning came, and at six o'clock my grandfather
+was on the way to Ballyriggan, and at nine he was in the wood, posted
+at the very spot M'Claverty told him, as happy as any man could be whose
+expectations were so overwhelming. A long hour passed over, and another;
+nobody passed but a baker's boy with a bull-dog after him, and an old
+woman that was stealing brushwood in the shrubbery. My grandfather
+remarked her well, and determined to tell his Grace of it; but his own
+business soon drove that out of his head, for eleven o'clock came, and
+now there was no knowing the moment the Duke might appear. With his
+watch in his hand, he counted the minutes, ay, even the seconds; if he
+was a thief going to be hanged, and looking out over the heads of the
+crowd for a fellow to gallop in with a reprieve, he could n't have
+suffered more: his heart was in his mouth. At last, it might be about
+half-past eleven, he heard a footstep on the gravel, and then a loud,
+deep cough,--'a fine kind of cough,' my grandfather afterwards called
+it. He peeped out; and there, sure enough, at about sixty paces, coming
+down the walk, was a large, grand-looking man,--not that he was dressed
+as became him, for, strange as you may think it, the Lord-Lieutenant had
+on a shooting-jacket, and a pair of plaid trousers, and cloth boots, and
+a big lump of a stick in his hand,--and lucky it was that my grandfather
+knew him, for he bought a picture of him. On he came nearer and nearer;
+every step on the gravel-walk drove out of my grandfather's head half
+a dozen of the fine things he had got off by heart to say during the
+interview, until at last he was so overcome by joy, anxiety, and a kind
+of terror, that he could n't tell where he was, or what was going to
+happen to him, but he had a kind of instinct that reminded him he was to
+jump out when the Duke was near him; and 'pon my conscience so he did,
+clean and clever, into the middle of the walk, right in front of his
+Grace. My grandfather used to say, in telling the story, that he
+verily believed his feelings at that moment would have made him burst a
+blood-vessel if it wasn't that the Duke put his hands to his sides and
+laughed till the woods rang again; but, between shame and fright, my
+grandfather did n't join in the laugh.
+
+“'In Heaven's name!' said his Grace, 'who or what are you?--this isn't
+May-day.'
+
+“My grandfather took this speech as a rebuke for standing so bold in his
+Grace's presence; and being a shrewd man, and never deficient in tact,
+what does he do but drops down on his two knees before him? 'My Lord,'
+said he, 'I am only Dodd and Dempsey.'
+
+“Whatever there was droll about the same house of Dodd and Dempsey I
+never heard, but his Grace laughed now till he had to lean against a
+tree. 'Well, Dodd and Dempsey, if that's your name, get up. I don't mean
+you any harm. Take courage, man; I am not going to knight you. By the
+way, are you not the worthy gentleman who lent me a trifle of twenty
+thousand more than once?'
+
+“My grandfather could n't speak, but he moved his lips, and he moved his
+bands, this way, as though to say the honor was too great for him, but
+it was all true.
+
+“'Well, Dodd and Dempsey, I 've a very high respect for you,' said his
+Grace; 'I intend, some of these fine days, when business permits, to go
+over and eat an oyster at your villa on the coast.'
+
+“My grandfather remembers no more; indeed, ma'am, I believe that at that
+instant his Grace's condescension had so much overwhelmed him that
+he had a kind of vision before his eyes of a whole wood full of
+Lord-Lieutenants, with about thirty thousand people opening oysters
+for them as fast as they could eat, and he himself running about with
+a pepper-caster, pressing them to eat another 'black fin.' It was
+something of that kind; for when he got on his legs a considerable
+time must have elapsed, as he found all silent around him, and a smart
+rheumatic pain in his knee-joints from the cold of the ground.
+
+“The first thing my grandfather did when he got back to town was to
+remember that he had no villa on the sea-coast, nor any more suitable
+place to eat an oyster than his house in Abbey Street, for he could n't
+ask his Grace to go to 'Killeen's.' Accordingly he set out the next day
+in search of a villa, and before a week was over he had as beautiful
+a place about a mile below Howth as ever was looked at; and that he
+mightn't be taken short, he took a lease of two oyster-beds, and made
+every preparation in life for the Duke's visit. He might have spared
+himself the trouble. Whether it was that somebody had said something
+of him behind his back, or that politics were weighing on the Duke's
+mind,--the Catholics were mighty troublesome then,--or, indeed, that he
+forgot it altogether, clean, but so it was, my grandfather never heard
+more of the visit, and if the oysters waited for his Grace to come and
+eat them, they might have filled up Howth harbor.
+
+“A year passed over, and my grandfather was taking his solitary walk in
+the Park, very nearly in the same place as before,--for you see, ma'am,
+he could n't bear the sight of the seacoast, and the very smell of
+shell-fish made him ill,--when somebody called out his name. He looked
+up, and there was M'Claverty in a gig.
+
+“'Well, D. and D., how goes the world with you?'
+
+“'Very badly indeed,' says my grandfather; his heart was full, and he
+just told him the whole story.
+
+“'I'll settle it all,' said the captain; 'leave it to me. There 's to
+be a review to-morrow in the Park; get on the back of the best horse you
+can find,--the Duke is a capital judge of a nag,--ride him briskly about
+the field; he 'll notice you, never fear; the whole thing will come up
+before his memory, and you 'll have him to breakfast before the week's
+over.'
+
+“'Do you think so?--do you really think so?'
+
+“'I 'll take my oath of it. I say, D. and D., could you do a little
+thing at a short date just now?'
+
+“'If it was n't too heavy,' said my grandfather, with a faint sigh.
+
+“'Only a hundred.'
+
+“'Well,' said he, 'you may send it down to the office. Good-bye.' And
+with that he turned back towards town again; not to go home, however,
+for he knew well there was no time to lose, but straight he goes to
+Dycer's,--it was old Tom was alive in those days, and a shrewder man
+than Tom Dycer there never lived. They tell you, ma'am, there 's chaps
+in London that if you send them your height, and your width, and your
+girth round the waist, they 'll make you a suit of clothes that will
+fit you like your own skin; but, 'pon my conscience, I believe if you
+'d give your age and the color of your hair to old Tom Dycer, he could
+provide you a horse the very thing to carry you. Whenever a stranger
+used to come into the yard, Tom would throw a look at him, out of the
+corner of his eye,--for he had only one, there was a feather on the
+other,--Tom would throw a look at him, and he'd shout out, 'Bring out
+42; take out that brown mare with the white fetlocks.' That's the way he
+had of doing business, and the odds were five to one but the gentleman
+rode out half an hour after on the beast Tom intended for him. This
+suited my grandfather's knuckle well; for when he told him that it was
+a horse to ride before the Lord-Lieutenant he wanted, 'Bedad,' says Tom,
+'I'll give you one you might ride before the Emperor of Chaney.--Here,
+Dennis, trot out 176.' To all appearance, ma'am, 176 was no common
+beast, for every man in the yard, big and little, set off, when they
+heard the order, down to the stall where he stood, and at last two doors
+were flung wide open, and out he came with a man leading him. He was
+seventeen hands two if he was an inch, bright gray, with flea-bitten
+marks all over him; he held his head up so high at one end, and his tail
+at the other, that my grandfather said he 'd have frightened the
+stoutest fox-hunter to look at him; besides, my dear, he went with his
+knees in his mouth when he trotted, and gave a skelp of his hind legs at
+every stride, that it was n't safe to be within four yards of him.
+
+“'There's action!' says Tom,--'there 's bone and figure! Quiet as a
+lamb, without stain or blemish, warranted in every harness, and to carry
+a lady.'
+
+“'I wish he 'd carry a wine-merchant safe for about one hour and a
+half,' said my grandfather to himself. 'What's his price?'
+
+“But Tom would n't mind him, for he was going on reciting the animal's
+perfections, and telling him how he was bred out of Kick the Moon,
+by Moll Flanders, and that Lord Dunraile himself only parted with him
+because he did n't think him showy enough for a charger. 'Though, to be
+sure,' said Tom, 'he's greatly improved since that. Will you try him in
+the school, Mr. Dempsey?' said he; 'not but I tell you that you 'll find
+him a little mettlesome or so there; take him on the grass, and he's
+gentleness itself,--he's a kid, that's what he is.'
+
+“'And his price?' said my grandfather.
+
+“Dycer whispered something in his ear.
+
+“'Blood alive!' said my grandfather.
+
+“'Devil a farthing less. Do you think you 're to get beauty and action,
+ay, and gentle temper, for nothing?'
+
+“My dear, the last words, 'gentle temper,' wasn't well out of his mouth
+when 'the kid' put his two hind-legs into the little pulpit where the
+auctioneer was sitting, and sent him flying through the window behind
+him into the stall.
+
+“'That comes of tickling him,' said Tom; 'them blackguards never will
+let a horse alone.'
+
+“'I hope you don't let any of them go out to the reviews in the Park,
+for I declare to Heaven, if I was on his back then, Dodd and Dempsey
+would be D. D. sure enough.'
+
+“'With a large snaffle, and the saddle well back,' says Tom, 'he's a
+lamb.'
+
+“'God grant it,' says my grandfather; 'send him over to me to-morrow,
+about eleven.' He gave a check for the money,--we never heard how much
+it was,--and away he went.
+
+“That must have been a melancholy evening for him, for he sent for old
+Rogers, the attorney, and after he was measured for breeches and boots,
+he made his will and disposed of his effects, 'For there's no knowing,'
+said he, 'what 176 may do for me.' Rogers did his best to persuade him
+off the excursion,--
+
+“'Dress up one of Dycer's fellows like you; let him go by the
+Lord-Lieutenant prancing and rearing, and then you yourself can appear
+on the ground, all splashed and spurred, half an hour after.'
+
+“'No,' says my grandfather, 'I 'll go myself.'
+
+“For so it is, there 's no denying, when a man has got ambition in his
+heart it puts pluck there. Well, eleven o'clock came, and the whole of
+Abbey Street was on foot to see my grandfather; there was n't a window
+had n't five or six faces in it, and every blackguard in the town was
+there to see him go off, just as if it was a show.
+
+“'Bad luck to them,' says my grandfather; 'I wish they had brought the
+horse round to the stable-yard, and let me get up in peace.'
+
+“And he was right there,--for the stirrup, when my grandfather stood
+beside the horse, was exactly even with his chin; but somehow, with the
+help of the two clerks and the book-keeper and the office stool, he got
+up on his back with as merry a cheer as ever rung out to welcome him,
+while a dirty blackguard, with two old pocket-handkerchiefs for a pair
+of breeches, shouted out, 'Old Dempsey's going to get an appetite for
+the oysters!'
+
+“Considering everything, 176 behaved very well; he did n't plunge, and
+he did n't kick, and my grandfather said, 'Providence was kind enough
+not to let him rear!' but somehow he wouldn't go straight but sideways,
+and kept lashing his long tail on my grandfather's legs and sometimes
+round his body, in a way that terrified him greatly, till he became used
+to it.
+
+“'Well, if riding be a pleasure,' says my grandfather, 'people must be
+made different from me.'
+
+“For, saving your favor, ma'am, he was as raw as a griskin, and there
+was n't a bit of him the size of a half-crown he could sit on without a
+cry-out; and no other pace would the beast go but this little jig-jig,
+from side to side, while he was tossing his head and flinging his mane
+about, just as if to say, 'Could n't I pitch you sky-high if I liked?
+Could n't I make a Congreve-rocket of you, Dodd and Dempsey?'
+
+“When he got on the 'Fifteen Acres,' it was only the position he found
+himself in that destroyed the grandeur of the scene; for there were
+fifty thousand people assembled at least, and there was a line of
+infantry of two miles long, and the artillery was drawn up at one end,
+and the cavalry stood beyond them, stretching away towards Knockmaroon.
+
+“My grandfather was now getting accustomed to his sufferings, and he
+felt that, if 176 did no more, with God's help he could bear it for one
+day; and so he rode on quietly outside the crowd, attracting, of course,
+a fair share of observation, for he wasn't always in the saddle, but
+sometimes a little behind or before it. Well, at last there came a cloud
+of dust, rising at the far end of the field, and it got thicker and
+thicker, and then it broke, and there were white plumes dancing, and
+gold glittering, and horses all shaking their gorgeous trappings, for it
+was the staff was galloping up, and then there burst out a great
+cheer, so loud that nothing seemed possible to be louder, until
+bang--bang--bang, eighteen large guns went thundering together, and the
+whole line of infantry let off a clattering volley, till you 'd think
+the earth was crashing open.
+
+“'Devil's luck to ye all! couldn't you be quiet a little longer?' says
+D. and D., for he was trying to get an easy posture to sit in; but just
+at this moment 176 pricked up his ears, made three bounds in the air,
+as if something lifted him up, shook his head like a fish, and away
+he went: wasn't it wonderful that my grandfather kept his seat? He
+remembers, he says, that at each bound he was a yard over his back; but
+as he was a heavy man, and kept his legs open, he had the luck to come
+down in the same place, and a sore place it must have been! for he let
+a screech out of him each time that would have pierced the heart of
+a stone. He knew very little more what happened, except that he was
+galloping away somewhere, until at last he found himself in a crowd
+of people, half dead with fatigue and fright, and the horse thick with
+foam.
+
+“'Where am I?' says my grandfather.
+
+“'You 're in Lucan, sir,' says a man.
+
+“'And where 's the review?' says my grandfather.
+
+“'Five miles behind you, sir.'
+
+“'Blessed Heaven!' says he; 'and where 's the Duke?'
+
+“'God knows,' said the man, giving a wink to the crowd, for they thought
+he was mad.
+
+“'Won't you get off and take some refreshment?' says the man, for he was
+the owner of a little public.
+
+“'Get off!' says my grandfather; 'it's easy talking! I found it hard
+enough to get on. Bring me a pint of porter where I am.' And so he
+drained off the liquor, and he wiped his face, and he turned the beast's
+head once more towards town.
+
+“When my grandfather reached the Park again, he was, as you may well
+believe, a tired and a weary man; and, indeed, for that matter, the
+beast did n't seem much fresher than himself, for he lashed his sides
+more rarely, and he condescended to go straight, and he didn't carry his
+head higher than his rider's. At last they wound their way up through
+the fir copse at the end of the field, and caught sight of the review,
+and, to be sure, if poor D. and D. left the ground before under a grand
+salute of artillery and small arms, another of the same kind welcomed
+him back again. It was an honor he 'd have been right glad to have
+dispensed with, for when 176 heard it, he looked about him to see which
+way he 'd take, gave a loud neigh, and, with a shake that my grandfather
+said he 'd never forget, he plunged forward, and went straight at the
+thick of the crowd; it must have been a cruel sight to have seen the
+people running for their lives. The soldiers that kept the line laughed
+heartily at the mob; but they hadn't the joke long to themselves, for my
+grandfather went slap at them into the middle of the field; and he did
+that day what I hear has been very seldom done by cavalry,--he broke
+a square of the Seventy-ninth Highlanders, and scattered them over the
+field.
+
+[Illustration: 061]
+
+In truth, the beast must have been the devil himself; for wherever he
+saw most people, it was there he always went. There were at this time
+three heavy dragoons and four of the horse-police, with drawn swords, in
+pursuit of my grandfather; and if he were the enemy of the human race,
+the cries of the multitude could not have been louder, as one universal
+shout arose of 'Cut him down! Cleave him in two!' And, do you know, he
+said, afterwards, he 'd have taken it as a mercy of Providence if they
+had. Well, my dear, when he had broke through the Highlanders, scattered
+the mob, dispersed the band, and left a hole in the big drum you could
+have put your head through, 176 made for the staff, who, I may remark,
+were all this time enjoying the confusion immensely. When, however, they
+saw my grandfather heading towards them, there was a general cry of
+'Here he comes! here he comes! Take care, your Grace!' And there arose
+among the group around the Duke a scene of plunging, kicking, and
+rearing, in the midst of which in dashed my grandfather. Down went an
+aide-de-camp on one side; 176 plunged, and off went the town-major at
+the other; while a stroke of a sabre, kindly intended for my
+grandfather's skull, came down on the horse's back and made him give
+plunge the third, which shot his rider out of the saddle, and sent him
+flying through the air like a shell, till he alighted under the leaders
+of a carriage where the Duchess and the Ladies of Honor were seated.
+
+“Twenty people jumped from their horses now to finish him; if they were
+bunting a rat, they could not have been more venomous.
+
+“'Stop! stop!' said the Duke; 'he's a capital fellow, don't hurt him.
+Who are you, my brave little man? You ride like Chifney for the Derby.'
+
+“'God knows who I am!' says my grandfather, creeping out, and wiping his
+face. 'I was Dodd and Dempsey when I left home this morning; but I 'm
+bewitched, devil a lie in it.'
+
+“'Dempsey, my Lord Duke,' said M'Claverty, coming up at the moment.
+'Don't you know him?' And he whispered a few words in his Grace's ear.
+
+“'Oh, yes, to be sure,' said the Viceroy. 'They tell me you have a
+capital pack of hounds, Dempsey. What do you hunt?'
+
+“'Horse, foot, and dragoons, my Lord,' said my grandfather; and, to be
+sure, there was a jolly roar of laughter after the words, for poor D.
+and D. was just telling his mind, without meaning anything more.
+
+“'Well, then,' said the Duke, 'if you 've always as good sport as
+to-day, you 've capital fun of it.'
+
+“'Oh, delightful, indeed!' said my grandfather; 'never enjoyed myself
+more in my life.'
+
+“'Where 's his horse?' said his Grace.
+
+“'He jumped down into the sand-quarry and broke his neck, my Lord Duke.'
+
+“'The heavens be praised!' said my grandfather; 'if it's true, I am as
+glad as if I got fifty pounds.'
+
+“The trumpets now sounded for the cavalry to march past, and the Duke
+was about to move away, when M'Claverty again whispered something in his
+ear.
+
+“'Very true,' said he; 'well thought of. I say, Dempsey, I 'll go over
+some of these mornings and have a run with your hounds.'
+
+“My grandfather rubbed his eyes and looked up, but all he saw was about
+twenty staff-officers with their hats off; for every man of them saluted
+my father as they passed, and the crowd made way for him with as much
+respect as if it was the Duke himself. He soon got a car to bring him
+home, and notwithstanding all his sufferings that day, and the great
+escape he had of his life, there wasn't as proud a man in Dublin as
+himself.
+
+“'He's coming to hunt with my hounds!' said he; ''t is n't to take an
+oyster and a glass of wine, and be off again!--no, he's coming down to
+spend the whole day with me.'
+
+“The thought was ecstasy; it only had one drawback. Dodd and Dempsey's
+house had never kept hounds. Well, ma'am, I needn't detain you long
+about what happened; it's enough if I say that in less than six weeks my
+grandfather had bought up Lord Tyrawley's pack, and his hunting-box and
+horses, and I believe his grooms; and though he never ventured on the
+back of a beast himself, he did nothing from morning to night but listen
+and talk about hunting, and try to get the names of the dogs by heart,
+and practise to cry 'Tally-ho!' and 'Stole away!' and 'Ho-ith! ho-ith!'
+with which, indeed, he used to start out of his sleep at night, so full
+he was of the sport. From the 1st of September he never had a red coat
+off his back. 'Pon my conscience, I believe he went to bed in his spurs,
+for he did n't know what moment the Duke might be on him, and that's the
+way the time went on till spring; but not a sign of his Grace, not a
+word, not a hint that he ever thought more of his promise! Well, one
+morning my grandfather was walking very sorrowfully down near the
+Curragh, where his hunting-lodge was, when he saw them roping-in the
+course for the races, and he heard the men talking of the magnificent
+cup the Duke was to give for the winner of the three-year-old stakes,
+and the thought flashed on him, 'I'll bring myself to his memory that
+way.' And what does he do, but he goes back to the house and tells his
+trainer to go over to the racing-stables, and buy, not one, nor two, but
+the three best horses that were entered for the race. Well, ma'am, their
+engagements were very heavy, and he had to take them all on himself, and
+it cost him a sight of money. It happened that this time he was on the
+right scent, for down comes M'Claverty the same day with orders from the
+Duke to take the odds, right and left, on one of the three, a little
+mare called Let-Me-Alone-Before-the-People; she was one of his own
+breeding, and he had a conceit out of her. Well, M'Claverty laid on the
+money here and there, till he stood what between the Duke's bets and all
+the officers of the staff and his own the heaviest winner or loser on
+that race.
+
+“'She's Martin's mare, is n't she?' said M'Claverty.
+
+“'No, sir, she was bought this morning by Mr. Dempsey, of Tear Fox
+Lodge.'
+
+“'The devil she is,' said M'Claverty; and he jumped on his horse, and he
+cantered over to the Lodge.
+
+“'Mr. Dempsey at home?' says he.
+
+“'Yes, sir.'
+
+“'Give him this card, and say, I beg the favor of seeing him for a few
+moments.'
+
+“The man went off, and came back in a few minutes, with the answer, 'Mr.
+Dempsey is very sorry, but he 's engaged.'
+
+“'Oh, oh! that's it!' says M'Claverty to himself; 'I see how the wind
+blows. I say, my man, tell him I 've a message from his Grace the
+Lord-Lieutenant.'
+
+“Well, the answer came for the captain to send the message in, for my
+grandfather could n't come out.
+
+“'Say, it's impossible,' said M'Claverty; 'it's for his own private
+ear.'
+
+“Dodd and Dempsey was strong in my grandfather that day: he would listen
+to no terms.
+
+“'No,' says he, 'if the goods are worth anything, they never come
+without an invoice. I 'll have nothing to say to him.'
+
+“But the captain wasn't to be balked; for, in spite of everything, he
+passed the servant, and came at once into the room where my grandfather
+was sitting,--ay, and before he could help it, was shaking him by both
+hands as if he was his brother.
+
+“'Why the devil didn't you let me in?' said he; 'I came from the Duke
+with a message for you.'
+
+“'Bother!' says my grandfather.
+
+“'I did, though,' says he; 'he's got a heavy book on your little mare,
+and he wants you to make your boy ride a waiting race, and not win the
+first beat,--you understand?'
+
+“'I do,' says my grandfather, 'perfectly; and he's got a deal of money
+on her, has he?'
+
+“'He has,' said the captain; 'and every one at the Castle, too, high and
+low, from the chief secretary down to the second coachman,--we are all
+backing her.'
+
+“'I am glad of it,--I am sincerely glad of it,' said my grandfather,
+rubbing his hands.
+
+“'I knew you would be, old boy!' cried the captain, joyfully.
+
+“'Ah, but you don't know why; you 'd never guess.'
+
+“M'Claverty stared at him, but said nothing.
+
+“'Well, I'll tell you,' resumed my grandfather; 'the reason is this:
+I 'll not let her run,--no, divil a step! I 'll bring her up to the
+ground, and you may look at her, and see that she 's all sound and safe,
+in top condition, and with a skin like a looking-glass, and then I 'll
+walk her back again! And do you know why I 'll do this?' said he, while
+his eyes flashed fire, and his lip trembled; 'just because I won't
+suffer the house of Dodd and Dempsey to be humbugged as if we were
+greengrocers! Two years ago, it was to “eat an oyster with me;” last
+year it was a “day with my hounds;” maybe now his Grace would join the
+race dinner; but that's all past and gone,--I 'll stand it no longer.'
+
+“'Confound it, man,' said the captain, 'the Duke must have forgotten it.
+You never reminded him of his engagement. He 'd have been delighted to
+have come to you if he only recollected.'
+
+“'I am sorry my memory was better than his,' said my grandfather, 'and I
+wish you a very good morning.'
+
+“'Oh, don't go; wait a moment; let us see if we can't put this matter
+straight. You want the Duke to dine with you?'
+
+“'No, I don't; I tell you I 've given it up.'
+
+“'Well, well, perhaps so; will it do if you dine with him?'
+
+“My grandfather had his hand on the lock,--he was just going,--he turned
+round, and fixed his eyes on the captain.
+
+“'Are you in earnest, or is this only more of the same game?' said he,
+sternly.
+
+“'I'll make that very easy to you,' said the captain; 'I 'll bring the
+invitation to you this night; the mare doesn't run till to-morrow; if
+you don't receive the card, the rest is in your own power.'
+
+“Well, ma'am, my story is now soon told; that night, about nine o'clock,
+there comes a footman, all splashed and muddy, in a Castle livery, up to
+the door of the Lodge, and he gave a violent pull at the bell, and when
+the servant opened the door, he called out in a loud voice, 'From his
+Excellency the Lord-Lieutenant,' and into the saddle he jumped, and
+away he was like lightning; and, sure enough, it was a large card, all
+printed, except a word here and there, and it went something this way:--
+
+“'I am commanded by his Excellency the Lord-Lieutenant to request the
+pleasure of Mr. Dempsey's company at dinner on Friday, the 23d instant,
+at the Lodge, Phoenix Park, at seven o'clock.
+
+“'Granville Vereker, _Chamberlain_.
+
+“'Swords and Bags.'
+
+“'At last!' said my grandfather, and he wiped the tears from his eyes;
+for to say the truth, ma'am, it was a long chase without ever getting
+once a 'good view.' I must hurry on; the remainder is easy told.
+Let-Me-Alone-Before-the-People won the cup, my grandfather was chaired
+home from the course in the evening, and kept open house at the Lodge
+for all comers while the races lasted; and at length the eventful day
+drew near on which he was to realize all his long-coveted ambition. It
+was on the very morning before, however, that he put on his Court suit
+for about the twentieth time, and the tailor was standing trembling
+before him while my grandfather complained of a wrinkle here or a pucker
+there.
+
+“'You see,' said he, 'you've run yourself so close that you 've no time
+now to alter these things before the dinner.'
+
+“'I 'll have time enough, sir,' says the man, 'if the news is true.'
+
+“'What news?' says my grandfather, with a choking in his throat, for a
+sudden fear came over him.
+
+“'The news they have in town this morning.'
+
+“'What is it?--speak it out, man!'
+
+“'They say-- But sure you 've heard it, sir?'
+
+“'Go on!' says my grandfather; and he got him by the shoulders and shook
+him. 'Go on, or I'll strangle you!'
+
+“'They say, sir, that the Ministry is out, and--'
+
+“'And, well--'
+
+“'And that the Lord-Lieutenant has resigned, and the yacht is coming
+round to Dunleary to take him away this evening, for he won't stay
+longer than the time to swear in the Lords Justices,--he's so glad to be
+out of Ireland.'
+
+“My grandfather sat down on the chair, and began to cry, and well he
+might, for not only was the news true, but he was ruined besides. Every
+farthing of the great fortune that Dodd and Dempsey made was lost and
+gone,--scattered to the winds; and when his affairs were wound up,
+he that was thought one of the richest men in Dublin was found to be
+something like nine thousand pounds worse than nothing. Happily for
+him, his mind was gone too, and though he lived a few years after, near
+Finglass, he was always an innocent, didn't remember anybody, nor who
+he was, but used to go about asking the people if they knew whether his
+Grace the Lord-Lieutenant had put off his dinner-party for the 23d;
+and then he 'd pull out the old card to show them, for he kept it in a
+little case, and put it under his pillow every night till he died.”
+
+While Mr. Dempsey's narrative continued, Tom Leonard indulged freely and
+without restraint in the delights of the Knight's sherry, forgetting not
+only all his griefs, but the very circumstances and people around him.
+Had the party maintained a conversational tone, it is probable that he
+would have been able to adhere to the wise resolutions he had planned
+for his guidance on leaving home; unhappily, the length of the tale,
+the prosy monotony of the speaker's voice, the deepening twilight which
+stole on ere the story drew to a close, were influences too strong for
+prudence so frail; an instinct told him that the decanter was close
+by, and every glass he drained either drowned a care or stifled a
+compunction.
+
+The pleasant buzz of voices which succeeded to the anecdote of Dodd and
+Dempsey aroused Leonard from his dreary stupor. Wine and laughter and
+merry voices were adjuncts he had not met for many a day before; and,
+strangely enough, the only emotions they could call up were some vague,
+visionary sorrowings over his fallen and degraded condition.
+
+“By Jove!” said Dempsey, in a whisper to Darcy, “the lieutenant has more
+sympathy for my grandfather than I have myself,--I 'll be hanged if he
+is n't wiping his eyes! So you see, ma'am,” added he, aloud, “it was
+a taste for grandeur ruined the Dempseys; the same ambition that has
+destroyed states and kingdoms has brought your humble servant to a
+trifle of thirty-eight pounds four and nine per annum for all worldly
+comforts and virtuous enjoyments; but, as the old ballad says,--
+
+     'Though classic 't is to show one's grief,
+     And cry like Carthaginian Marius,
+     I 'll not do this, nor ask relief,
+     Like that ould beggar Belisarius.'
+
+No, ma'am, 'Never give in while there's a score behind the
+door,'--that's the motto of the Dempseys. If it's not on their
+coat-of-arms, it's written in their hearts.”
+
+“Your grandfather, however, did not seem to possess the family courage,”
+ said the Knight, slyly.
+
+“Well, and what would you have? Wasn't he brave enough for a
+wine-merchant?”
+
+“The ladies will give us some tea, Leonard,” said the Knight, as Lady
+Eleanor and her daughter had, some time before, slipped unobserved from
+the room.
+
+“Yes, Colonel, always ready.”
+
+“That's the way with him,” whispered Dempsey; “he'd swear black and blue
+this minute that you commanded the regiment he served in. He very often
+calls me the quartermaster.”
+
+The party rose to join the ladies; and while Leonard maintained his
+former silence, Dempsey once more took on himself the burden of the
+conversation by various little anecdotes of the Fumbally household, and
+sketches of life and manners at Port Ballintray.
+
+So perfectly at ease did he find himself, so inspired by the happy
+impression he felt convinced he was making, that he volunteered a song,
+“if the young lady would only vouchsafe few chords on the piano” by way
+of accompaniment,--a proposition Helen acceded to.
+
+Thus passed the evening,--a period in which Lady
+
+Eleanor more than once doubted if the whole were not a dream, and the
+persons before her the mere creations of disordered fancy; an impression
+certainly not lessened as Mr. Dempsey's last words at parting conveyed
+a pressing invitation to a “little thing he 'd get up for them at Mother
+Finn's.”
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER III. SOME VISITORS AT GWYNNE ABBEY
+
+It is a fact not only well worthy of mention, but pregnant with its own
+instruction, that persons who have long enjoyed all the advantages of
+an elevated social position better support the reverses which condemned
+them to humble and narrow fortunes, than do the vulgar-minded, when, by
+any sudden caprice of the goddess, they are raised to a conspicuous and
+distinguished elevation.
+
+There is in the gentleman, and still more in the gentlewoman,--as the
+very word itself announces,--an element of placidity and quietude that
+suggests a spirit of accommodation to whatever may arise to ruffle the
+temper or disturb the equanimity. Self-respect and consideration for
+others are a combination not inconsistent or unfrequent, and there
+are few who have not seen, some time or other, a reduced gentleman
+dispensing in a lowly station the mild graces and accomplishments of his
+order, and, while elevating others, sustaining himself.
+
+The upstart, on the other hand, like a mariner in some unknown sea
+without chart or compass, has nothing to guide him; impelled hither or
+thither as caprice or passion dictate, he is neither restrained by a
+due sense of decorum, nor admonished by a conscientious feeling of good
+breeding. With the power that rank and wealth bestow he becomes not
+distinguished, but eccentric; unsustained by the companionship of his
+equals, he tries to assimilate himself to them rather by their follies
+than their virtues, and thus presents to the world that mockery of rank
+and station which makes good men sad, and bad men triumphant.
+
+To these observations we have been led by the altered fortunes of those
+two families of whom our story treats. If the Darcys suddenly found
+themselves brought down to a close acquaintanceship with poverty and its
+fellows, they bore the change with that noble resignation that springs
+from true regard for others at the sacrifice of ourselves. The little
+shifts and straits of narrowed means were ever treated jestingly, the
+trials that a gloomy spirit had converted into sorrows made matters of
+merriment and laughter; and as the traveller sees the Arab tent in the
+desert spread beside the ruined temple of ancient grandeur, and happy
+faces and kind looks beneath the shade of ever-vanished splendor, so did
+this little group maintain in their fall the kindly affection and the
+high-souled courage that made of that humble cottage a home of happiness
+and enjoyment.
+
+Let us now turn to the west, where another and very different picture
+presented itself. Although certain weighty questions remained to be
+tried at law between the Darcys and the Hickmans, Bicknell could not
+advise the Knight to contest the mortgage under which the Hickmans had
+now taken possession of the abbey.
+
+The reputation for patriotism and independence so fortunately acquired
+by that family came at a most opportune moment. In no country of Europe
+are the associations connected with the proprietorship of land more
+regarded than in Ireland; this feeling, like most others truly Irish,
+has the double property of being either a great blessing or a great
+curse, for while it can suggest a noble attachment to country, it can
+also, as we see it in our own day, be the fertile source of the most
+atrocious crime.
+
+Had Hickman O'Reilly succeeded to the estate of the Darcys at any other
+moment than when popular opinion called the one a “patriot” and the
+other a “traitor,” the consequences would have been serious; all
+the disposable force, civil and military, would scarcely have been
+sufficient to secure possession. The thought of the “ould ancient
+family” deposed and exiled by the men of yesterday, would have excited
+a depth of feeling enough to stir the country far and near. Every trait
+that adorned the one, for generations, would be remembered, while the
+humble origin of the other would be offered as the bitterest reproach,
+by those who thought in embodying the picture of themselves and their
+fortune they were actually summing up the largest amount of obloquy and
+disgrace. Such is mob principle in everything! Aristocracy has no
+such admirers as the lowly born, just as the liberty of the press is
+inexpressibly dear to that part of the population who know not how to
+read.
+
+When last we saw Gwynne Abbey, the scene was one of mourning, the
+parting hour of those whose affections clung to the old walls, and who
+were to leave it forever. We must now return there for a brief space
+under different auspices, and when Mr. Hickman O'Reilly, the high
+sheriff of the county, was entertaining a large and distinguished
+company in his new and princely residence.
+
+It was the assize week, and the judges, as well as the leading officers
+of the Crown, were his guests; many of the gentry were also there,--some
+from indifference to whom their host might be, others from curiosity to
+see how the upstart, Bob Hickman, would do the honors; and there were
+many who felt far more at their ease in the abbey now than when they had
+the fears of Lady Eleanor Darcy's quietude and coldness of manner before
+them.
+
+No expense was spared to rival the style and retinue of the abbey under
+its former owners. O'Reilly well knew the value of first impressions
+in such matters, and how the report that would soon gain currency
+would decide the matter for or against him. So profusely, and with such
+disregard to money, was everything done, that, as a mere question of
+cost, there was no doubt that never in the Knight's palmiest days had
+anything been seen more magnificent than the preparations. Luxuries,
+brought at an immense cost, and by contraband, from abroad; wines, of
+the rarest excellence, abounded at every entertainment; equipages, more
+splendid than any ever seen there before, appeared each morning; and
+troops of servants without number moved hither and thither, displaying
+the gorgeous liveries of the O'Reillys.
+
+The guests were for the most part the neighboring gentry, the military,
+and the members of the bar; but there were others also, selected with
+peculiar care, and whose presence was secured at no inconsiderable
+pains. These were the leading “diners-out” of Dublin, and recognized
+“men about town,” whose names were seen on club committees, and whose
+word was law on all questions of society. Among them, the chief was Con
+Heffernan; and he now saw himself for the first time a guest at Gwynne
+Abbey. The invitation was made and accepted with a certain coquetting
+that gave it the character of a reconciliation; there were political
+differences to be got over, mutual recriminations to be forgotten; but
+as each felt, for his own reasons, not indisposed to renew friendly
+relations, the matter presented little difficulty, and when Mr. O'Reilly
+received his guest, on his arrival, with a shake of both hands,
+the action was meant and taken as a receipt in full for all past
+misunderstanding, and both had too much tact ever to go back on
+“bygones.”
+
+There had been a little correspondence between the parties, the early
+portions of which were marked “Confidential,” and the latter “Strictly
+confidential and private.” This related to a request made by O'Reilly
+to Heffernan to entreat his influence in behalf of Lionel Darcy. Nothing
+could exceed the delicacy of the negotiation; for after professing that
+the friendship which had subsisted between his own son and young Darcy
+was the active motive for the request, he went on to say that in the
+course of certain necessary legal investigations it was discovered that
+young Lionel, in the unguarded carelessness of a young and extravagant
+man, had put his name to bills of a large amount, and even hinted that
+he had not stopped there, but had actually gone the length of signing
+his father's name to documents for the sale of property. To obtain an
+appointment for him in some regiment serving in India would at once
+withdraw him from the likelihood of any exposure in these matters.
+To interest Heffernan in the affair was the object of O'Reilly's
+correspondence; and Heffernan was only too glad, at so ready an
+opportunity, to renew their raptured relations.
+
+Lions were not as fashionable in those days as at present; but still the
+party had its share in the person of Counsellor O'Halloran, the great
+orator of the bar, and the great speaker at public meetings, the rising
+patriot, who, not being deemed of importance enough to be bought, was
+looked on as incorruptible. He had come down special to defend O'Reilly
+in a record of Darcy _versus_ Hickman,--the first case submitted
+for trial by Bicknell, and one which, small in itself, would yet,
+if determined in the Knight's favor, form a rule of great importance
+respecting those that were to follow.
+
+It was in the first burst of Hickman O'Reilly's indignation against
+Government that he had secured O'Halloran as his counsel, never
+anticipating that any conjuncture would bring him once more into
+relations with the Ministry. His appointment of high sheriff, however,
+and his subsequent correspondence with Heffernan, ending with the
+invitation to the abbey, had greatly altered his sentiments, and he
+more than once regretted the precipitancy with which he had selected his
+advocate.
+
+Whether “the Counsellor” did or did not perceive that his reception was
+one of less cordiality and more embarrassment than might be expected,
+it is not easy to say, for he was one of those persons who live too much
+out of themselves to betray their own feelings to the world. He was a
+large and well-looking man, but whose features would have been coarse in
+their expression were it not for the animated intelligence of his eye,
+and the quaint humor that played about the angles of his mouth, and
+added to the peculiar drollery of an accent to which Kerry had lent all
+its native archness. His gestures were bold, striking, and original; his
+manner of speaking, even in private, impressive,--from the deliberate
+slowness of his utterance, and the air of truthfulness sustained by
+every agency of look, voice, and expression. The least observant could
+not fail to remark in him a conscious power, a sense of his own great
+gifts either in argument or invective; for he was no less skilful
+in unravelling the tangled tissue of a knotted statement than in
+overwhelming his adversary with a torrent of abusive eloquence.
+The habits of his profession, but in particular the practice of
+cross-examination, had given him an immense insight into the darker
+recesses of the human heart, and made him master of all the subtleties
+and evasions of inferior capacities. This knowledge he brought with him
+into society, where his powers of conversation had already established
+for him a high repute. He abounded in anecdote, which he introduced so
+easily and naturally that the _à propos_ had as much merit as the story
+itself. Yet with all these qualities, and in a time when the members of
+his profession were more than ever esteemed and courted, he himself
+was not received, save on sufferance, into the better society of the
+capital. The stamp of a “low tone,” and the assertion of democratic
+opinions, were two insurmountable obstacles to his social acceptance;
+and he was rarely, if ever, seen in those circles which arrogated to
+themselves the title of best. Whether it was a conscious sense of what
+was “in him” powerful enough to break down such barriers as these,
+and that, like Nelson, he felt the day would come when he would have a
+“_Gazette of his own_,” but his manner at times displayed a spirit of
+haughty daring and effrontery that formed a singular contrast with the
+slippery and insinuating softness of his _nisi prius_ tone and gesture.
+
+If we seem to dwell longer on this picture than the place the original
+occupies in our story would warrant, it is because the character is not
+fictitious, and there is always an interest to those who have seen the
+broad current of a mighty river rolling onward in its mighty strength,
+to stand beside the little streamlet which, first rising from the
+mountain, gave it origin,--to mark the first obstacles that opposed its
+course,--and to watch the strong impulses that moulded its destiny to
+overcome them.
+
+Whatever fears Hickman O'Reilly might have felt as to how his counsel,
+learned in the law, would be received by the Government agent, Mr.
+Heffernan, were speedily allayed. The gentlemen had never met before,
+and yet, ere the first day went over, they were as intimate as old
+acquaintances, each, apparently, well pleased with the strong good sense
+and natural humor of the other. And so, indeed, it may be remarked in
+the world, that when two shrewd, far-reaching individuals are brought
+together, the attraction of quick intelligence and craft is sufficient
+to draw them into intimate relations at once. There is something
+wonderfully fraternal in roguery.
+
+This was the only social difficulty O'Reilly dreaded, and happily it
+was soon dispelled, and the general enjoyment was unclouded by even
+the slightest accident. The judges were _bon vivants_, who enjoyed good
+living and good wine; he of the Common Pleas, too, was an excellent
+shot, and always exchanged his robes for a shooting-jacket on entering
+the park, and despatched hares and woodcocks as he walked along, with
+as much unconcern as he had done Whiteboys half an hour before. The
+Solicitor-General was passionately fond of hunting, and would rather any
+day have drawn a cover than an indictment; and so with the rest,--they
+seemed all of them sporting-gentlemen of wit and pleasure, who did a
+little business at law by way of “distraction.” Nor did O'Halloran form
+an exception; he was as ready as the others to snatch an interval
+of pleasure amid the fatigues of his laborious day. But, somehow, he
+contrived that no amount of business should be too much for him; and
+while his ruddy cheek and bright eye bespoke perfect health and renewed
+enjoyment, it was remarked that the lamp burned the whole night long
+unextinguished in his chamber, and that no morning found him ever
+unprepared to defend the interest of his client.
+
+There was, as we have said, nothing to throw a damper on the general
+joy. Fortune was bent on dealing kindly with Mr. O'Reilly; for while he
+was surrounded with distinguished and delighted guests, his father, the
+doctor, the only one whose presence could have brought a blush to his
+cheek, was confined to his room by a severe cold, and unable to join the
+party.
+
+The assize calendar was a long one, and the town the last in the
+circuit, so that the judges were in no hurry to move on; besides, Gwynne
+Abbey was a quarter which it was very unlikely would soon be equalled
+in style of living and resources. For all these several reasons the
+business of the law went on with an easy and measured pace, the Court
+opening each day at ten, and closing about three or four, when a
+magnificent procession of carriages and saddle-horses drew up in the
+main street to convey the guests back to the abbey.
+
+While the other trials formed the daily subject of table-talk,
+suggesting those stories of fun, anecdote, and incident with which no
+other profession can enter into rivalry, the case of Darcy _versus_
+Hickman was never alluded to, and, being adroitly left last on the list
+for trial, could not possibly interfere with the freedom so essential to
+pleasant intercourse.
+
+The day fixed on for this record was a Saturday. It was positively the
+last day the judges could remain, and having accepted an engagement to
+a distant part of the country for that very day at dinner, the Court was
+to sit early, and there being no other cause for trial, it was supposed
+the cause would be concluded in time to permit their departure. Up to
+this morning the high sheriff had never omitted, as in duty bound, to
+accompany the judges to the court-house, displaying in the number and
+splendor of his equipages a costliness and magnificence that excited the
+wonder of the assembled gentry. On this day, however, he deemed it would
+be more delicate on his part to be absent, as the matter in litigation
+so nearly concerned himself. And half seriously and half in jest he made
+his apologies to the learned baron who was to try the cause, and begged
+for permission to remain at the abbey. The request was most natural, and
+at once acceded to; and although Heffer-nan had expressed the greatest
+desire to hear the Counsellor, he determined to pass the morning, at
+least, with O'Reilly, and endeavor afterwards to be in time for the
+address to the jury.
+
+At last the procession moved off; several country gentlemen, who had
+come over to breakfast, joining the party, and making the cavalcade, as
+it entered the town, a very imposing body. It was the market-day, too;
+and thus the square in front of the court-house was crowded with a
+frieze-coated and red-cloaked population, earnestly gesticulating
+and discussing the approaching trial, for to the Irish peasant the
+excitement of a law process has the most intense and fascinating
+interest. All the ordinary traffic of the day was either neglected or
+carelessly performed, in the anxiety to see those who dispensed the
+dread forms of justice, but more particularly to obtain a sight of the
+young “Counsellor,” who for the first time had appeared on this circuit,
+but whose name as a patriot and an orator was widely renowned.
+
+“Here he comes! Here he comes! Make way there!” went from mouth to
+mouth, as O'Halloran, who had entered the inn for a moment, now issued
+forth in wig and gown, and carrying a heavily laden bag in his hand. The
+crowd opened for him respectfully and in dead silence, and then a hearty
+cheer burst forth, that echoed through the wide square, and was taken up
+by hundreds of voices in the neighboring streets.
+
+It needed not the reverend companionship of Father John M'Enerty, the
+parish priest of Curraghglass, who walked at his side, to secure him
+this hearty burst of welcome, although of a truth the circumstance had
+its merit also, and many favorable comments were passed upon O'Halloran
+for the familiar way he leaned on the priest's arm, and the kindly
+intelligence that subsisted between them.
+
+If anything could have added to the pleasure of the assembled crowd at
+the instant, it was an announcement by Father John, who, turning round
+on the steps of the courthouse, informed them in a kind of confidential
+whisper that was heard over the square, that “if they were good boys,
+and did n't make any disturbance in the town,” the Counsellor would give
+them a speech when the trial was over.
+
+The most deafening shout of applause followed this declaration, and
+whatever interest the questions of law had possessed for them before was
+now merged in the higher anxiety to hear the great Counsellor himself
+discuss the “veto,” that long-agitated question each had taught himself
+to believe of nearest importance to himself.
+
+“When last I visited this town,” said Bicknell to the senior counsel
+employed in the Knight's behalf, “I witnessed a very different scene.
+Then we had triumphal arches, and bonfire illuminations, and addresses.
+It was young Darcy's birthday, and a more enthusiastic reception it is
+impossible to conceive than he met in these very streets from these very
+people.”
+
+“There is only one species of interest felt for dethroned monarchs,”
+ said the other, caustically,--“how they bear their misfortunes.”
+
+“The man you see yonder waving his hat to young O'Reilly was one of
+a deputation to congratulate the heir of Gwynne Abbey! I remember him
+well,--his name is Mitchell.”
+
+“I hope not the same I see upon our jury-list here,” said the
+Counsellor, as he unfolded a written paper, and perused it attentively.
+
+“The same man; he holds his house under the Darcys, and has received
+many and deep favors at their hands.”
+
+“So much the worse, if we should find him in the jury-box. But have we
+any chance of young Darcy yet? Do you give up all hope of his arrival?”
+
+“The last tidings I received from my clerk were, that he was to follow
+him down to Plymouth by that night's mail, and still hoped to be in time
+to catch him ere the transport sailed.”
+
+“What a rash and reckless fellow he must be, that would leave a country
+where he has such interests at stake!”
+
+“If he felt that a point of honor or duty was involved, I don't believe
+he 'd sacrifice a jot of either to gain this cause, and I 'm certain
+that some such plea has been made use of on the present occasion.”
+
+“How they cheer! What's the source of their enthusiasm at this moment?
+There it goes, that carriage with the green liveries and the Irish motto
+round the crest. Look at O'Halloran, too! how he shakes hands with the
+townsfolk; canvassing for a verdict already! Now, Bicknell, let us
+move on; but, for my part, I feel our cause is decided outside the
+court-house. If I 'm not very much mistaken, we are about to have an era
+of 'popular justice' in Ireland, and our enemies could not wish us worse
+luck.”
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IV. A SCENE AT THE ASSIZES
+
+Although Mr. Hickman O'Reilly affected an easy unconcern regarding
+the issue of the trial, he received during the morning more than one
+despatch from the court-house narrating its progress. They were brief
+but significant; and when Hefferuan, with his own tact, inquired if the
+news were satisfactory, the reply was made by putting into his hands a
+slip of paper with a few words written in pencil: “They are beaten,-the
+verdict is certain.”
+
+“I concluded,” said Heffernan, as he handed back the paper, “that the
+case was not deemed by you a very doubtful matter.”
+
+“Neither doubtful nor important,” said Hickman, calmly; “it was an
+effort, in all probability suggested by some crafty lawyer, to break
+several leases on the ground of forgery in the signatures. I am
+sure nothing short of Mr. Darcy's great difficulties would ever have
+permitted him to approve of such a proceeding.”
+
+“The shipwrecked sailor will cling to a hen-coop,” said Heffernan. “By
+the way, where are these Darcys? What has become of them?”
+
+“Living in Wales, or in Scotland, some say.”
+
+“Are they utterly ruined?”
+
+“Utterly, irretrievably. A course of extravagance maintained for years
+at a rate of about double his income, loans obtained at any sacrifice,
+sales of property effected without regard to loss, have overwhelmed him;
+and the worst of it is, the little remnant of fortune left is likely
+to be squandered in vain attempts to recover at law what he has lost by
+recklessness.”
+
+Heffernan walked on for some moments in silence, and, as if pondering
+over Hickman's words, repeated several times, half aloud: “No doubt of
+it,--no doubt of it.” Then added, in a louder tone: “The whole history
+of this family, Mr. O'Reilly, is a striking confirmation of a remark I
+heard made, a few days since, by a distinguished individual,--to _you_
+I may say it was Lord Cornwallis. 'Heffernan,' said he, 'this country is
+in a state of rapid transition; everything progresses but the old gentry
+of the land; they alone seem rooted to ancient prejudices, and fast
+confirmed in bygone barbarisms.' I ventured to ask him if he could
+suggest a remedy for the evil, and I 'll never forget the tone with
+which he whispered in my ear, 'Yes; supersede them!' And that, sir,”
+ said Heffernan, laying his hand confidentially on O'Reilly's arm,--“that
+is and must be the future policy regarding Ireland.”
+
+Mr. Heffernan did not permit himself to risk the success of his stroke
+by a word more, nor did he even dare to cast a look at his companion and
+watch how his spell was working. As the marksman feels when he has shot
+his bolt that no after-thought can amend the aim, so did he wait quietly
+for the result, without a single effort on his part. “The remark is a
+new one to me,” said O'Reilly, at length; “but so completely does it
+accord with my own sentiments, I feel as if I either had or might have
+made it myself. The old school you speak of were little calculated to
+advance the prosperity of the country; the attachment of the people to
+them was fast wearing out.”
+
+“Nay,” interposed Heffernan, “it was that very same attachment,
+that rude remnant of feudalism, made the greatest barrier against
+improvement. The law of the land was powerless in comparison with the
+obligations of this clanship. It is time, full time, that the people
+should become English in feeling, as they are in law and in language;
+and to make them so, the first step is, to work the reformation in
+the gentry. Now, at the hazard of a liberty which you may deem an
+impertinence, I will tell you frankly, Mr. O'Reilly, that you, you
+yourself, are admirably calculated to lead the van of this great
+movement. It is all very natural, and perhaps very just, that in a
+moment of chagrin with a minister or his party, a man should feel
+indignant, and, although acting under a misconception, throw himself
+into a direct opposition; yet a little reflection will show that such a
+line involves a false position. Popularity with the masses could never
+recompense a man like you for the loss of that higher esteem you must
+sacrifice for it; the _devoirs_ of your station impose a very different
+class of duties from what this false patriotism suggests; besides, if
+from indignation--a causeless indignation I am ready to prove it--you
+separate yourself from the Government, you are virtually suffering your
+own momentary anger to decide the whole question of your son's career.
+You are shutting the door of advancement against a young man with
+every adventitious aid of fortune in his favor; handsome, accomplished,
+wealthy,-what limit need there be to his ambition? And finally, some
+fellow, like our friend the Counsellor, without family, friends, or
+fortune, but with lungs of leather and a ready tongue, will beat you
+hollow in the race, and secure a wider influence over the mass of the
+people than a hundred gentlemen like you. You will deem it, probably,
+enough to spend ten or fifteen thousand on a contested election, and to
+give a vote for your party in Parliament; he, on the other hand,
+will write letters, draw up petitions, frame societies, meetings,
+resolutions, and make speeches, every word of which will sink deeply
+into the hearts of men whose feelings are his own. You, and others
+in your station, will be little better than tools in his hands; and
+powerful as you think yourselves to-day, with your broad acres and your
+cottier freeholders, the time may come when these men will be less
+at _your_ bidding than _his_, and for this simple reason,--the man of
+nothing will always be ready to bid higher for mob support than he who
+has a fortune to lose.”
+
+“You have put a very strong case,” said O'Reilly; “perhaps I should
+think it stronger, if I had not heard most of the arguments before,
+from yourself, and know by this time how their application to me has not
+sustained your prophecy.”
+
+“I am ready to discuss that with you, too,” said Heffer-nan. “I know how
+it all happened: had I been with you the day you dined with Castlereagh,
+the misunderstanding never could have occurred; but there was a fatality
+in it all. Come,” said he, familiarly, and he slipped his arm, as he
+spoke, within O'Reilly's, “I am the worst diplomatist in the world, and
+I fear I never should have risen to high rank in the distinguished
+corps of engineers if such had been my destination. I can lay down the
+parallels and the trenches patiently enough, I can even bring up my
+artillery and my battering-train, but, hang it! somehow, I never can
+wait for a breach to storm through. The truth is, if it were not for
+a very strong feeling on the subject I have just spoken of, you never
+would have seen me here this day. No man is happier or prouder to enjoy
+your hospitality than I am, but I acknowledge it was a higher sentiment
+induced me to accept your invitation. When your note reached me, I
+showed it to Castlereagh.
+
+“'What answer have you sent?' said he.
+
+“'Declined, of course,' said I.
+
+“'You are wrong, Heffernan,' said his Lordship, as he took from me the
+note which I held ready sealed in my hand; 'in my opinion, Heffernan,
+you are quite wrong.'
+
+“'I may be so, my Lord; but I confess to you I always act from the first
+impulse, and if it suggests regret afterwards, it at least saves trouble
+at the time.'
+
+“'Heffernan,' said the Secretary, as he calmly read over the lines of
+your letter, 'there are many reasons why you should go: in the first
+place, O'Reilly has really a fair grudge against us, and this note shows
+that he has the manliness to forget it. Every line of it bespeaks the
+gentleman, and I 'll not feel contented with myself until you convey to
+him my own sorrow for what is past, and the high sense I entertain of
+his character and conduct.'
+
+“He said a great deal more; enough, if I tell you he induced me to
+rescind my first intention, and to become your guest; and I may say that
+I never followed advice the consequences of which have so thoroughly
+sustained my expectations.”
+
+“This is very flattering,” said O'Reilly; “it is, indeed, more than I
+looked for; but, as you have been candid with me, I will be as open with
+you: I had already made up my mind to retire, for a season at least,
+from politics. My father, you know, is a very old man, and not without
+the prejudices that attach to his age; he was always averse to those
+ambitious views a public career would open, and a degree of coldness
+had begun to grow up between us in consequence. This estrangement is now
+happily at an end; and in his consenting to our present mode of life and
+its expenditure, he is, in reality, paying the recompense of his former
+opposition. I will not say what changes time may work in my opinion or
+my line of acting; but I will pledge myself that, if I do resume the
+path of public life, you are the very first man I will apprise of the
+intention.”
+
+A cordial shake-hands ratified this compact; and Heffer-nan, who now saw
+that the fortress had capitulated, only stipulating for the honors
+of war, was about to add something very complimentary, when Beecham
+O'Reilly galloped up, with his horse splashed and covered with foam.
+
+“Don't you want to hear O'Halloran, Mr. Heffernan?” cried he.
+
+“Yes, by all means.”
+
+“Come along, then; don't lose a moment; there's a phaeton ready for you
+at the door, and if we make haste, we'll be in good time.”
+
+O'Reilly whispered a few words in his son's ear, to which the other
+replied, aloud,--
+
+“Oh! quite safe, perfectly safe. He was obliged to join his regiment,
+and sail at a moment's notice.”
+
+“Young Darcy, I presume?” said Heffernan, with a look of malicious
+intelligence. But no answer was returned, and O'Reilly continued to
+converse eagerly in Beecham's ear.
+
+“Here comes the carriage, Mr. Heffernan,” said the young man; “so slip
+in, and let's be off.” And, giving his horse to a servant, he took his
+seat beside Heffernan, and drove off at a rapid pace towards the town.
+
+After a quick drive of some miles, they entered the town, and had no
+necessity to ask if O'Halloran had begun his address to the jury. The
+streets which led to the square before the court-house, and the square
+itself, was actually crammed with country-people, of all sexes and ages;
+some standing with hats off, or holding their hands close to their
+ears, but all, in breathless silence, listening to the words of the
+Counsellor, which were not less audible to those without than within the
+building.
+
+Nothing short of Beecham O'Reilly's present position in the county,
+and the fact that the gratification they were then deriving was of his
+family's procuring for them, could have enabled him to force a passage
+through that dense crowd, which wedged up all the approaches. As it was,
+he could only advance step by step, the horses and even the pole of the
+carriage actually forcing the way through the throng.
+
+As they went thus slowly, the rich tones of the speaker swelled on the
+air with a clear, distinct, and yet so soft and even musical intonation
+that they fell deeply into the hearts of the listeners. He was evidently
+bent as much on appealing to those outside the court as to the jury, for
+his speech was less addressed to the legal question at issue than to
+the social condition of the peasantry; the all but absolutism of a
+landlord,--the serf-like slavery of a tenantry, dependent on the will
+or the caprice of the owners of the soil! With the consummate art of
+a rhetorician, he first drew the picture of an estate happily
+circumstanced, a benevolent landlord surrounded by a contented tenantry,
+the blessings of the poor man, “rising like the dews of the earth, and
+descending again in rain to refresh and fertilize the source it sprang
+from.” Not vaguely nor unskilfully, but with thorough knowledge, of his
+subject, he descanted on the condition of the peasant, his toils, his
+struggles against poverty and sickness borne with long-suffering and
+patience, from the firm trust that, even in this world, his destinies
+were committed to no cruel or unfeeling taskmaster. Although generally a
+studied plainness and even homeliness of language pervaded all he said,
+yet at times some bold figure, some striking and brilliant metaphor,
+would escape him, and then, far from soaring--as it might be suspected
+he had--above the comprehension of the hearers, a subdued murmur of
+delight would follow the words, and swelling louder and louder, burst
+forth at last into one great roar of applause. If a critical ear might
+cavil at the incompleteness or inaptitude of his similes, to the warm
+imagination and excited fancy of the Irish peasant they had no such
+blemishes.
+
+It was at the close of a brilliant peroration on this theme, that
+Heffernan and Beecham O'Reilly reached the courthouse, and with
+difficulty forcing their way, obtained standing-room near the bar.
+
+The orator had paused, and turning round he caught Beecham's eye: the
+glance exchanged was but of a second's duration, but, brief as it was,
+it did not escape Heffernan's notice, and with a readiness he knew well
+how to profit by, he assumed a quiet smile, as though to say that he,
+too, had read its meaning. The young man blushed deeply; whatever his
+secret thoughts were, he felt ashamed that another should seem to know
+them, and in a hesitating whisper, said,--
+
+“Perhaps my father has told you--”
+
+A short nod from Heffernan--a gesture to imply anything or nothing--was
+all his reply, and Beecham went on,--
+
+“He's going to do it, now.”
+
+Heffernan made no answer, but, leaning forward on the rail, settled
+himself to listen attentively to the speaker.
+
+“Gentlemen of the jury,” said O'Halloran, in a low and deliberate tone,
+“if the only question I was interested in bringing before you this day
+was the cause you sit there to try, I would conclude here. Assured as
+I feel what your verdict will and must be, I would not add a word more,
+nor weaken the honest merit of your convictions by anything like an
+appeal to your feelings. But I cannot do this. The law of the land, in
+the plenitude of its liberty, throws wide the door of justice, that all
+may enter and seek redress for wrong, and with such evident anxiety that
+he who believes himself aggrieved should find no obstacle to his right,
+and that even he who frivolously and maliciously advances a charge
+against another suffers no heavier penalty for his offence than the
+costs of the suit. No, my Lords, for the valuable moments lost in a
+vexatious cause, for the public time consumed, for insult and outrage
+cast upon the immutable principles of right and wrong, you have nothing
+more severe to inflict than the costs of the action!--a pecuniary fine,
+seldom a heavy one, and not unfrequently to be levied upon insolvency!
+What encouragement to the spirit of revengeful litigation! How
+suggestive of injury is the system! How deplorable would it be if
+the temple could not be opened without the risk of its altar being
+desecrated! But, happily, there is a remedy--a great and noble
+remedy--for an evil like this. The same glorious institutions that have
+built up for our protection the bulwark of the law, have created another
+barrier against wrong,--grander, more expansive, and more enduring
+still; one neither founded on the variable basis of nationality or of
+language, nor propped by the artifices of learned, or the subtleties
+of crafty men; not following the changeful fortunes of a political
+condition, or tempered by the tone of the judgment-seat, but of all
+lands, of every tongue and nation and people, great, enduring, and
+immutable,--the law of Public Opinion. To the bar of this judgment-seat,
+one higher and greater than even your Lordships, I would now summon
+the plaintiff in this action. There is no need that I should detail
+the charge against him; the accusation he has brought this day is our
+indictment,--his allegation is his crime.”
+
+The reader, by this time, may partake of Mr. Heffernan's prescience, and
+divine what the secret intelligence between the Counsellor and Beecham
+portended, and that a long-meditated attack on the Knight of Gwynne, in
+all the relations of his public and private life, was the chief duty
+of Mr. O'Halloran in the action. Taking a lesson from the great and
+illustrious chief of a neighboring state, O'Reilly felt that Usurpation
+can never be successful till Legitimacy becomes odious. The “prestige”
+ of the “old family” clung too powerfully to every class in the county
+to make his succession respected. His low origin was too recent, his
+moneyed dealings too notorious, to gain him acceptance, except on the
+ruins of the Darcys. The new edifice of his own fame must be erected out
+of the scattered and broken materials of his rival's house. If any one
+was well calculated to assist in such an emergency, it was O'Halloran.
+
+It was by--to use his own expression--“weeding the country of such men”
+ that the field would be opened for that new class of politicians who
+were to issue their edicts in newspapers, and hold their parliaments in
+public meetings. Against exclusive or exaggerated loyalty the struggle
+would be violent, but not difficult; while against moderation, sound
+sense and character, the Counsellor well knew the victory was not so
+easy of attainment. He himself, therefore, had a direct personal object
+in this attack on the Knight of Gwynne, and gladly accepted the special
+retainer that secured his services.
+
+By a series of artful devices, he so arranged his case that the Knight
+of Gwynne did not appear as an injured individual seeking redress
+against the collusive guilt of his agent and his tenantry, but as a
+ruined gambler, endeavoring to break the leases he had himself granted
+and guaranteed, and, by an act of perfidy, involve hundreds of innocent
+families in hopeless beggary. To the succor of these unprotected people
+Mr. Hickman O'Reilly was represented as coming forward, this noble
+act of devotion being the first pledge he had offered of what might be
+expected from him as the future leader of a great county.
+
+He sketched with a masterly but diabolical ingenuity the whole career
+of the Knight, representing him at every stage of life as the pampered
+voluptuary seeking means for fresh enjoyment without a thought of the
+consequences; he exhibited him dispensing, not the graceful duties
+of hospitality, but the reckless waste of a tasteless household, to
+counterbalance by profusion the insolent hauteur of his wife, “that
+same Lady Eleanor who would not deign to associate with the wives and
+daughters of his neighbors!” “I know not,” cried the orator, “whether
+you were more crushed by _his_ gold or by _her_ insolence: it was time
+that you should weary of both. You took the wealth on trust, and the
+rank on guess,--what now remains of either?”
+
+He drew a frightful picture of a suffering and poverty-enslaved
+tenantry, sinking fast into barbarism from hopelessness,--unhappily, no
+Irishman need depend upon his imagination for the sketch. He contrasted
+the hours of toil and sickness with the wanton spendthrift in his
+pleasures,--the gambler setting the fate of families on the die,
+reserving for his last hope the consolation that he might still betray
+those whom he had ruined, land that when he had dissipated the last
+shilling of his fortune, he still had the resource of putting his honor
+up to auction! “And who is there will deny that he did this?” cried
+O'Halloran. “Is there any man in the kingdom has not heard of his
+conduct in Parliament--that foul act of treachery which the justice of
+Heaven stigmatized by his ruin! How on the very night of the debate he
+was actually on his way to inflict the last wound upon his country, when
+the news came of his own overwhelming destruction! And, like as you have
+seen sometime in our unhappy land the hired informer transferred from
+the witness-table to the dock, this man stands now forth to answer for
+his own offences!
+
+“It was full time that the rotten edifice of this feudalist gentry
+should fall; honor to you on whom the duty devolves to roll away the
+first stone!”
+
+A slight movement in the crowd behind the bar disturbed the silence in
+which the Court listened to the speaker, and a murmur of disapprobation
+was heard, when a hand, stretched forth, threw a little slip of paper on
+the table before O'Halloran. It was addressed to him; and believing it
+came from the attorney in the cause, he paused to read it. Suddenly his
+features became of an ashy paleness, his lip trembled convulsively, and
+in a voice scarcely audible from emotion, he addressed the bench,--
+
+“My Lords, I ask the protection of this Court. I implore your Lordships
+to see that an advocate, in the discharge of his duty, is not the mark
+of an assassin. I have just received this note--” He attempted to read
+it, but after a pause of a second or two, unable to utter a word, he
+handed the paper to the bench.
+
+The judge perused the paper, and immediately whispered an order that
+the writer, or at least the bearer, of the note should be taken into
+custody.
+
+“You may rest assured, sir,” said the senior judge, addressing
+O'Halloran, “that we will punish the offender, if he be discovered,
+with the utmost penalty the law permits. Mr. Sheriff, let the court be
+searched.”
+
+The sub-sheriff was already, with the aid of a strong police force,
+engaged in the effort to discover the individual who had thus dared to
+interfere with the administration of justice; but all in vain. The court
+and the galleries were searched without eliciting anything that could
+lead to detection; and although several were taken up on suspicion, they
+were immediately afterwards liberated on being recognized as persons
+well known and in repute. Meanwhile the business of the trial stood
+still, and O'Halloran, with his arms folded, and his brows bent in a
+sullen frown, sat without speaking, or noticing any one around him.
+
+The curiosity to know the exact words the paper contained was meanwhile
+extreme, and a thousand absurd versions gained currency; for, in the
+absence of all fact, invention was had recourse to. “Young Darcy is
+here,--he was seen this morning on the mail,--it was he himself gave the
+letter.” Such were among the rumors around; while Con Hefferman, coolly
+tapping his snuff-box, asked one of the lawyers near him, but in a voice
+plainly audible on either side, “I hope our friend Bagenal Daly is well;
+have you seen him lately?”
+
+From that moment an indistinct murmur ran through the crowd that it was
+Daly had come back to “the West” to challenge the bar, and the whole
+bench, if necessary. Many added that there could no longer be any doubt
+of the fact, as Mr. Heffernan had seen and spoken to him.
+
+Order was at last restored; but so completely had this new incident
+absorbed all the interest of the trial, that already the galleries began
+to thin, and of the great crowd that filled the body of the court, many
+had taken their departure. The Counsellor arose, agitated and evidently
+disconcerted, to finish his task: he spoke, indeed, indignantly of the
+late attempt to coerce the free expression of the advocate “by a brutal
+threat;” but the theme seemed one he felt no pleasure in dwelling upon,
+and he once more addressed himself to the facts of the case.
+
+The judge charged briefly; and the jury, without retiring from the box,
+brought in a verdict for Hickman O'Reilly.
+
+When the judges retired to unrobe, a messenger of the court summoned
+O'Halloran to their chamber. His absence was very brief; but when he
+returned his face was paler, and his manner more disturbed than ever,
+notwithstanding an evident effort to seem at ease and unconcerned. By
+this time Hickman O'Reilly had arrived in the town, and Heffernan was
+complimenting the Counsellor on the admirable display of his speech.
+
+“I regret sincerely that the delicate nature of the position in which I
+stood prevented my hearing you,” said O'Reilly, shaking his hand.
+
+“You have indeed had a great loss,” said Heffernan; “a more brilliant
+display I never listened to.”
+
+“Well, sir,” interposed the little priest of Curraghglass, who, not
+altogether to the Counsellor's satisfaction, had now slipped an arm
+inside of his, “I hope the evil admits of remedy; Mr. O'Halloran intends
+to address a few words to the people before he leaves the town.”
+
+Whether it was the blank look that suddenly O'Reilly's features assumed,
+or the sly malice that twinkled in Heffernan's gray eyes, or that his
+own feelings suggested the course, but the Counsellor hastily whispered
+a few words in the priest's ear, the only audible portion of which was
+the conclusion: “Be that as it may, I 'll not do it.”
+
+“I 'm ready now, Mr. O'Reilly,” said he, turning abruptly round.
+
+“My father has gone over to say good-bye to the judges,” said Beecham;
+“but I'll drive you back to the abbey,--the carriage is now at the
+door.”
+
+With a few more words in a whisper to the priest, O'Halloran moved on
+with young O'Reilly towards the door.
+
+“Only think, sir,” said Father John, dropping behind with Heffernan,
+from whose apparent intimacy with O'Halloran he augured a similarity of
+politics, “it is the first time the Counsellor was ever in our town,
+the people have been waiting since two o'clock to hear him on the
+'veto,'--sorra one of them knows what the same 'veto' is,--but it will
+be a cruel disappointment to see him leave the place without so much as
+saying a word.”
+
+“Do you think a short address from _me_ would do instead?” said
+Heffernan, slyly; “I know pretty well what's doing up in Dublin.”
+
+“Nothing could be better, sir,” said Father John, in ecstasy; “if the
+Counsellor would just introduce you in a few words, and say that, from
+great fatigue, or a sore throat, or anything that way, he deputed his
+friend Mr.--”
+
+“Heffernan's my name.”
+
+“His friend Mr. Heffernan to state his views about the 'veto,'--mind,
+it must be the 'veto,'-you can touch on the reform in Parliament, the
+oppression of the penal laws, but the 'veto' will bring a cheer that
+will beat them all.”
+
+“You had better hint the thing to the Counsellor,” said Heffernan; “I am
+ready whenever you want me.”
+
+As the priest stepped forward to make the communication to O'Halloran,
+that gentleman, leaning on Beecham O'Reilly's arm, had just reached
+the steps of the courthouse, where now a considerable police-force was
+stationed,--a measure possibly suggested by O'Reilly himself.
+
+The crowd, on catching sight of the Counsellor, cheered vociferously;
+and, although they were not without fears that he intended to depart
+without speaking, many averred that he would address them from the
+carriage. Before Father John could make known his request, a young man,
+dressed in a riding-costume, burst through the line of police, and,
+springing up the steps, seized O'Halloran by the collar.
+
+“I gave you a choice, sir,” said he, “and you made it;” and at the same
+instant, with a heavy horsewhip, struck him several times across the
+shoulders, and even the face. So sudden was the movement, and so violent
+the assault, that, although a man of great personal strength, O'Halloran
+had received several blows almost before he could defend himself,
+and when he had rallied, his adversary, though much lighter and less
+muscular, showed in skill, at least, he was his superior. The struggle,
+however, was not to end here; for the mob, now seeing their favorite
+champion attacked, with a savage howl of vengeance dashed forward, and
+the police, well aware that the youth would be torn limb from limb,
+formed a line in front of him with fixed bayonets. For a few moments
+the result was doubtful; nor was it until more than one retired into the
+crowd bleeding and wounded, that the mob desisted, or limited their rage
+to yells of vengeance.
+
+[Illustration: 098]
+
+Meanwhile the Counsellor was pulled back within the court-house by his
+companions, and the young man secured by two policemen,--a circumstance
+which went far to allay the angry tempest of the people without.
+
+As, pale and powerless from passion, his livid cheek marked with a deep
+blue welt, O'Halloran sat in one of the waiting-rooms of the court,
+O'Reilly and his son endeavored, as well as they could, to calm down his
+rage; expressing, from time to time, their abhorrence of the indignity
+offered, and the certain penalty that awaited the offender. O'Halloran
+never spoke; he tried twice to utter something, but the words died away
+without sound, and he could only point to his cheek with a trembling
+finger, while his eyes glared like the red orbs of a tiger.
+
+As they stood thus, Heffernan slipped noiselessly behind O'Reilly, and
+said in his ear,--
+
+“Get him off to the abbey; your son will take care of him. I have
+something for yourself to hear.”
+
+O'Reilly nodded significantly, and then, turning, said a few words in a
+low, persuasive tone to O'Halloran, concluding thus: “Yes, by all means,
+leave the whole affair in my hands. I 'll have no difficulty in making a
+bench. The town is full of my brother magistrates.”
+
+“On every account I would recommend this course, sir,” said Heffernan,
+with one of those peculiarly meaning looks by which he so well knew how
+to assume a further insight into any circumstance than his neighbors
+possessed.
+
+“I will address the people,” cried O'Halloran, breaking his long silence
+with a deep and passionate utterance of the words; “they shall see in
+me the strong evidence of the insolent oppression of that faction that
+rules this country; I 'll make the land ring with the tyranny that
+would stifle the voice of justice, and make the profession of the bar a
+forlorn hope to every man of independent feeling.”
+
+“The people have dispersed already,” said Beecham, as he came back from
+the door of the court; “the square is quite empty.”
+
+“Yes, I did that,” whispered Heffernan in O'Reilly's ear; “I made the
+servant put on the Counsellor's greatcoat, and drive rapidly off towards
+the abbey. The carriage is now, however, at the back entrance to the
+court-house; so, by all means, persuade him to return.”
+
+“When do you propose bringing the fellow up for examination, Mr.
+O'Reilly?” said O'Halloran, as he arose from his seat.
+
+“To-morrow morning. I have given orders to summon a full bench of
+magistrates, and the affair shall be sifted to the bottom.”
+
+“You may depend upon that, sir,” said the Counsellor, sternly. “Now I
+'ll go back with you, Mr. Beecham O'Reilly.” So saying, he moved towards
+a private door of the building, where the phaeton was in waiting,
+and, before any attention was drawn to the spot, he was seated in the
+carriage, and the horses stepping out at a fast pace towards home.
+
+“It's not Bagenal Daly?” said O'Reilly, the very moment he saw the
+carriage drive off.
+
+“No, no!” said Heffernan, smiling.
+
+“Nor the young Darcy,--the captain?”
+
+“Nor him either. It's a young fellow we have been seeking for in vain
+the last month. His name is Forester.”
+
+“Not Lord Castlereagh's Forester?”
+
+“The very man. You may have met him here as Darcy's guest?”
+
+O'Reilly nodded.
+
+“What makes the affair worse is that the relationship with Castlereagh
+will be taken up as a party matter by O'Halloran's friends in the press;
+they will see a Castle plot, where, in reality, there is nothing to
+blame save the rash folly of a hot-headed boy.”
+
+“What is to be done?” said O'Reilly, putting his hand to his forehead,
+in his embarrassment to think of some escape from the difficulty.
+
+“I see but one safe issue,--always enough to any question, if men have
+resolution to adopt it.”
+
+“Let me hear what you counsel,” said O'Reilly, as he cast a searching
+glance at his astute companion.
+
+“Get him off as fast as you can.”
+
+“O'Halloran! You mistake him, Mr. Heffernan; he'll prosecute the
+business to the end.”
+
+“I'm speaking of Forester,” said Heffernan, dryly; “it is _his_ absence
+is the important matter at this moment.”
+
+“I confess I am myself unable to appreciate your view of the case,” said
+O'Reilly, with a cunning smile; “the policy is a new one to me which
+teaches that a magistrate should favor the escape of a prisoner who has
+just insulted one of his own friends.”
+
+“I may be able to explain my meaning to your satisfaction,” said
+Heffernan, as, taking O'Reilly's arm, he spoke for some time in a low
+but earnest manner. “Yes,” said he, aloud, “your son Beecham was the
+object of this young man's vengeance; chance alone turned his anger on
+the Counsellor. His sole purpose in 'the West' was to provoke your son
+to a duel, and I know well what the result of your proceedings to-morrow
+would effect. Forester would not accept of his liberty on bail, nor
+would he enter into a security on his part to keep the peace. You will
+be forced, actually forced, to commit a young man of family and high
+position to a gaol; and what will the world say? That in seeking
+satisfaction for a very gross outrage on the character of his friend, a
+young Englishman of high family was sent to prison! In Ireland, the tale
+will tell badly; _we_ always have more sympathy than censure for
+such offenders. In England, how many will know of his friends
+and connections, who never heard of your respectable bench of
+magistrates,--will it be very wonderful if they side with their
+countryman against the stranger?”
+
+“How am I to face O'Halloran if I follow this counsel?” said O'Reilly,
+with a thoughtful but embarrassed air. “Then, as to Lord Castlereagh,”
+ continued Heffernan, not heeding the question, “he will take your
+interference as a personal and particular favor. There never was a more
+favorable opportunity for you to disconnect yourself with the whole
+affair. The hired advocate may calumniate as he will, but he can show
+no collusion or connivance on your part. I may tell you, in confidence,
+that a more indecent and gross attack was never uttered than this same
+speech. I heard it, and from the beginning to the end it was a tissue of
+vulgarity and falsehood. Oh! I know what you would say: I complimented
+the speaker on his success, and all that; so I did, perfectly true, and
+he understood me, too,--there is no greater impertinence, perhaps,
+than in telling a man that you mistook his bad cider for champagne! But
+enough of him. You may have all the benefit, if there be such, of the
+treason, and yet never rub shoulders with the traitor. You see I am
+eager on this point, and I confess I am very much so. Your son Beecham
+could not have a worse enemy in the world of Club and Fashion than this
+same Forester; he knows and is known to everybody.”
+
+“But I cannot perceive how the thing is to be done,” broke in O'Reilly,
+pettishly; “you seem to forget that O'Halloran is not the man to be put
+off with any lame, disjointed story.”
+
+“Easily enough,” said Heffernan, coolly; “there is no difficulty
+whatever. You can blunder in the warrant of his committal; you can
+designate him by a wrong Christian name; call him Robert, not Richard;
+he may be admitted to bail, and the sum a low one. The rest follows
+naturally; or, better than all, let some other magistrate-you surely
+know more than one to aid in such a pinch--take the case upon himself,
+and make all the necessary errors; that's the best plan.”
+
+“Conolly, perhaps,” said O'Reilly, musingly; “he is a great friend of
+Darcy's, and would risk something to assist this young fellow.”
+
+“Well thought of,” cried Heffernan, slapping him on the shoulder;
+“just give me a line of introduction to Mr. Conolly on one of your
+visiting-cards, and leave the rest to me.”
+
+“If I yield to you in this business, Mr. Heffernan,” said O'Reilly,
+as he sat down to write, “I assure you it is far more from my implicit
+confidence in your skill to conduct it safely to the end, than from
+any power of persuasion in your arguments. O'Halloran is a formidable
+enemy.”
+
+“You never were more mistaken in your life,” said Heffernan, laughing,
+“such men are only noxious by the terror they inspire; they are the
+rattlesnakes of the world of mankind, always giving notice of their
+approach, and never dangerous to the prudent. He alone is to be dreaded
+who, tiger-like, utters no cry till his victim is in his fangs.”
+
+There was a savage malignity in the way these words were uttered
+that made O'Reilly almost shudder. Heffernan saw the emotion he had
+unguardedly evoked, and, laughing, said,--
+
+“Well, am I to hold over the remainder of my visit to the abbey as a
+debt unpaid? for I really have no fancy to let you off so cheaply.”
+
+“But you are coming back with me, are you not?”
+
+“Impossible! I must take charge of this foolish boy, and bring him up to
+Dublin; I only trust I have a vested right to come back and see you at a
+future day.”
+
+O'Reilly responded to the proposition with courteous warmth; and with
+mutual pledges, perhaps of not dissimilar sincerity, they parted,--the
+one to his own home, the other to negotiate in a different quarter and
+in a very different spirit of diplomacy.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER V. MR. HEFFERNAN'S COUNSELS
+
+Mr. Heffernan possessed many worldly gifts and excellences, but upon
+none did he so much pride himself, in the secret recesses of his
+heart,--he was too cunning to indulge in more public vauntings,--as in
+the power he wielded over the passions of men much younger than himself.
+Thoroughly versed in their habits of life, tastes, and predilections, he
+knew how much always to concede to the warm and generous temperament
+of their age, and to maintain his influence over them less by the
+ascendancy of ability than by a more intimate acquaintance with all the
+follies and extravagances of fashionable existence.
+
+Whether he had or had not been a principal actor in the scenes he
+related with so much humor, it was difficult to say; for he would gloss
+over his own personal adventures so artfully that it was not easy to
+discover whether the motive were cunning or delicacy. He seemed, at
+least, to have done everything that wildness and eccentricity had ever
+devised, to have known intimately every man renowned for such exploits,
+and to have gone through a career of extravagance and dissipation quite
+sufficient to make him an unimpeachable authority in every similar
+case. The reserve which young men feel with regard to those older than
+themselves was never experienced in Con Heffernan's company; they would
+venture to tell him anything, well aware that, however absurd the story
+or embarrassing the scrape, Hefferuan was certain to cap it by another
+twice as extravagant in every respect.
+
+Although Forester was by no means free from the faults of his age and
+class, the better principles of his nature had received no severe or
+lasting injury, and his estimation for Heffernan proceeded from a very
+different view of his character from that which we have just alluded
+to. He knew him to be the tried and trusted agent of his cousin,
+Lord Castlereagh, one for whose abilities he entertained the greatest
+respect; he saw him consulted and advised with on every question of
+difficulty, his opinions asked, his suggestions followed; and if,
+occasionally, the policy was somewhat tortuous, he was taught to believe
+that the course of politics, like that “of true love, never did run
+smooth.” In this way, then, did he learn to look up to Heffernan, who
+was too shrewd a judge of motives to risk a greater ascendancy by any
+hazardous appeal to the weaker points of his character.
+
+Fortune could not have presented a more welcome visitor to Forester's
+eyes than Heffernau, as he entered the room of the inn where the
+youth had been conducted by the sergeant of police, and where he sat
+bewildered by the difficulties in which his own rashness had involved
+him. The first moments of meeting were occupied by a perfect shower of
+questions, as to how Heffernan came to be in that quarter of the world,
+when he had arrived, and with whom he was staying. All questions which
+Heffernan answered by the laughing subterfuge of saying, “Your
+good genius, I suppose, sent me to get you out of your scrape; and
+fortunately I am able to do so. But what in the name of everything
+ridiculous could have induced you to insult this man, O'Halloran? You
+ought to have known that men like him cannot fight; they would be
+made riddles of if they once consented to back by personal daring the
+insolence of their tongues. They set out by establishing for themselves
+a kind of outlawry from honor, they acknowledge no debts within the
+jurisdiction of that court, otherwise they would soon be bankrupt.”
+
+“They should be treated like all others without the pale of law, then,”
+ said Forester, indignantly.
+
+“Or, like Sackville,” added Heffernan, laughing, “when they put their
+swords 'on the peace establishment,' they should put their tongues on
+the 'civil list.' Well, well, there are new discoveries made every day;
+some men succeed better in life by the practice of cowardice than others
+ever did, or ever will do, by the exercise of valor.”
+
+“What can I do here? Is there anything serious in the difficulty?”
+ said Forester, hurriedly; for he was in no humor to enjoy the abstract
+speculations in which Heffernan indulged.
+
+“It might have been a very troublesome business,” replied Heffernan,
+quietly: “the judge might have issued a bench warrant against you, if
+he did not want your cousin to make him chief baron; and Justice Conolly
+might have been much more technically accurate, if he was not desirous
+of seeing his son in an infantry regiment. It's all arranged now,
+however; there is only one point for your compliance,--you must get out
+of Ireland as fast as may be. O'Halloran will apply for a rule in the
+King's Bench, but the proceedings will not extend to England.”
+
+“I am indifferent where I go to,” said Forester, turning away; “and
+provided this foolish affair does not get abroad, I am well content.”
+
+“Oh! as to that, you must expect your share of notoriety. O'Halloran
+will take care to display his martyrdom for the people! It will bring
+him briefs now; Heaven knows what greater rewards the future may have in
+store from it!”
+
+“You heard the provocation,” said Forester, with an unsuccessful attempt
+to speak calmly,--“the gross and most unpardonable provocation?”
+
+“I was present,” replied Heffernan, quietly.
+
+“Well, what say you? Was there ever uttered an attack more false and
+foul? Was there ever conceived a more fiendish and malignant slander?”
+
+“I never heard anything worse.”
+
+“Not anything worse! No, nor ever one half so bad.”
+
+“Well, if you like it, I will agree with you; not one half so bad. It
+was untrue in all its details, unmanly in spirit. But, let me add, that
+such philippics have no lasting effect,--they are like unskilful mines,
+that in their explosion only damage the contrivers. O'Reilly, who was
+the real deviser of this same attack, whose heart suggested, whose head
+invented, and whose coffers paid for it, will reap all the obloquy he
+hoped to heap upon another. Take myself, for instance, an old time-worn
+man of the world, who has lived long enough never to be sudden in my
+friendships or my resentments, who thinks that liking and disliking are
+slow processes,--well, even I was shocked, outraged at this affair;
+and although having no more intimacy with Darcy than the ordinary
+intercourse of social life, confess I could not avoid acting promptly
+and decisively on the subject. It was a question, perhaps, more of
+feeling than actual judgment,--a case in which the first impulse may
+generally be deemed the right one.” Here Heffernan paused, and drew
+himself up with an air that seemed to say, “If I am confessing to a
+weakness in my character, it is at least one that leans to virtue's
+side.”
+
+Forester awaited with impatience for the explanation, and, not
+perceiving it to come, said, “Well, what did you do in the affair?”
+
+“My part was a very simple one,” said Heffernan; “I was Mr. O'Reilly's
+guest, one of a large party, asked to meet the judges and the
+Attorney-General. I came in, with many others, to hear O'Halloran; but
+if I did, I took the liberty of not returning again. I told Mr. O'Reilly
+frankly that, in point of fact, the thing was false, and, as policy,
+it was a mistake. Party contests are all very well, they are necessary,
+because without them there is no banner to fight under; and the man
+of mock liberality to either side would take precedence of those more
+honest but less cautious than himself; but these things are great evils
+when they enlist libellous attacks on character in their train. If the
+courtesies of life are left at the door of our popular assemblies, they
+ought at least to be resumed when passing out again into the world.”
+
+“And so you actually refused to go back to his house?” said Forester,
+who felt far more interested in this simple fact than in all the
+abstract speculation that accompanied it.
+
+“I did so: I even begged of him to send my servant and my carriage after
+me; and, had it not been for your business, before this time I had been
+some miles on my way towards Dublin.”
+
+Forester never spoke, but he grasped Heffernan's hand, and shook it with
+earnest cordiality.
+
+“Yes, yes,” said Heffernan, as he returned the pressure; “men can be
+strong partisans, anxious and eager for their own side, but there is
+something higher and nobler than party.” He arose as he spoke, and
+walked towards the window, and then, suddenly turning round, and with an
+apparent desire to change the theme, asked, “But how came you here? What
+good or evil fortune prompted you to be present at this scene?”
+
+“I fear you must allow me to keep that a secret,” said Forester, in some
+confusion.
+
+“Scarcely fair, that, my young friend,” said Heffernan, laughing, “after
+hearing my confession in full.”
+
+Forester seemed to feel the force of the observation, but, uncertain how
+to act, he maintained a silence for several minutes.
+
+“If the affair were altogether my own, I should not hesitate,” said he
+at length, “but it is not so. However, we are in confidence here, and
+so I will tell you. I came to this part of the country at the earnest
+desire of Lionel Darcy. I don't know whether you are aware of his sudden
+departure for India. He had asked for leave of absence to give evidence
+on this trial; the application was made a few days after a memorial he
+sent in for a change of regiment. The demand for leave was unheeded, but
+he received a peremptory order to repair to Portsmouth, and take charge
+of a detachment under sailing-orders for India; they consisted of men
+belonging to the Eleventh Light Dragoons, of which he was gazetted to
+a troop. I was with him at Chatham when the letter reached him, and
+he explained the entire difficulty to me, showing that he had no
+alternative, save neglecting the interest of his family, on the one
+hand, or refusing that offer of active service he had so urgently
+solicited on the other. We talked the thing over one entire night
+through, and at last, right or wrong, persuaded ourselves that any
+evidence he could give would be of comparatively little value; and that
+the refusal to join would be deemed a stain upon him as an officer, and
+probably be the cause of greater grief to the Knight himself than his
+absence at the trial. Poor fellow! he felt for more deeply for quitting
+England without saying good-bye to his family than for all the rest.”
+
+“And so he actually sailed in the transport?” said Heffernan.
+
+“Yes, and without time for more than a few lines to his father, and
+a parting request to me to come over to Ireland and be present at the
+trial. Whether he anticipated any attack of this kind or not, I cannot
+say, but he expressed the desire so strongly I half suspect as much.”
+
+“Very cleverly done, faith!” muttered Heffernan, who seemed far more
+occupied with his own reflections than attending to Forester's words;
+“a deep and subtle stroke, Master O'Reilly, ably planned and as ably
+executed.”
+
+“I am rejoiced that Lionel escaped this scene, at all events,” said
+Forester.
+
+“I must say, it was neatly done,” continued Heffernan, still following
+out his own train of thought; “'Non contigit cuique,' as the Roman says;
+it is not every man can take in Con Heffernan,--I did not expect Hickman
+O'Reilly would try it.” He leaned his head on his hand for some minutes,
+then said aloud, “The best thing for you will be to join your regiment.”
+
+“I have left the army,” said Forester, with a flush, half of shame, half
+of anger.
+
+“I think you were right,” replied Heffernan, calmly, while he avoided
+noticing the confusion in the young man's manner. “Soldiering is no
+career for any man of abilities like yours; the lounging life of a
+barrack-yard, the mock duties of parade, the tiresome dissipations of
+the mess, suit small capacities and minds of mere routine. But you have
+better stuff in you, and, with your connections and family interest,
+there are higher prizes to strive for in the wheel of fortune.”
+
+“You mistake me,” said Forester, hastily; “it was with no disparaging
+opinion of the service I left it. My reasons had nothing in common with
+such an estimate of the army.”
+
+“There's diplomacy, for instance,” said Heffernan, not minding the
+youth's remark; “your brother has influence with the Foreign Office.”
+
+“I have no fancy for the career.”
+
+“Well, there are Government situations in abundance. A man must do
+something in our work-a-day world, if only to be companionable to those
+who do. Idleness begets ennui and falling in love; and although the
+first only wearies for the time, the latter lays its impress on all a
+man's after-life, fills him with false notions of happiness, instils
+wrong motives for exertion, and limits the exercise of capacity to
+the small and valueless accomplishments that find favor beside the
+work-table and the piano.”
+
+Forester received somewhat haughtily the unasked counsels of Mr.
+Heffernan respecting his future mode of life, nor was it improbable that
+he might himself have conveyed his opinion thereupon in words, had not
+the appearance of the waiter to prepare the table for dinner interposed
+a barrier.
+
+“At what hour shall I order the horses, sir?” asked the man of
+Heffernan.
+
+“Shall we say eight o'clock, or is that too early?”
+
+“Not a minute too early for me,” said Forester; “I am longing to leave
+this place, where I hope never again to set foot.”
+
+“At eight, then, let them be at the door; and whenever your cook is
+ready, we dine.”
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VI. AN UNLOOKED-FOR PROMOTION
+
+The same post that brought the Knight the tidings of his lost suit
+conveyed the intelligence of his son's departure for India; and although
+the latter event was one over which, if in his power, he would have
+exercised no control, yet was it by far the more saddening of the two
+announcements.
+
+Unable to apply any more consolatory counsels, his invariable reply to
+Lady Eleanor was, “It was a point of duty; the boy could not have
+done otherwise; I have too often expressed my opinion to him about the
+_devoirs_ of a soldier to permit of his hesitating here. And as for our
+suit, Mr. Bicknell says the jury did not deliberate ten minutes on their
+verdict; whatever right we might have on our side, it was pretty clear
+we had no law. Poor Lionel is spared the pain of knowing this, at
+least.” He sighed heavily, and was silent. Lady Eleanor and Helen spoke
+not either; and except their long-drawn breathings nothing was heard in
+the room.
+
+Lady Eleanor was the first to speak. “Might not Lionel's evidence have
+given a very different coloring to our cause if he had been there?”
+
+“It is hard to say. I am not aware whether we failed upon a point of
+fact or law. Mr. Bicknell writes like a man who felt his words were
+costly matters, and that he should not put his client to unnecessary
+expense. He limits himself to the simple announcement of the result, and
+that the charge of the bench was very pointedly unfavorable. He says
+something about a motion for a new trial, and regrets Daly's having
+prevented his engaging Mr. O'Halloran, and refers us to the newspapers
+for detail.”
+
+“I never heard a question of this O'Halloran,” said Lady Eleanor, “nor
+of Mr. Daly's opposition to him before.”
+
+“Nor did I, either; though, in all likelihood, if I had, I should have
+been of Bagenal's mind myself. Employing such men has always appeared
+to me on a par with the barbarism of engaging the services of savage
+nations in a war against civilized ones; and the practice is defended
+by the very same arguments,--if they are not with you, they are against
+you.”
+
+“You are right, my dear father,” said Helen, while her countenance
+glowed with unusual animation; “leave such allies to the enemy if he
+will, no good cause shall be stained by the scalping-knife and the
+tomahawk.”
+
+“Quite right, my dearest child,” said he, fondly; “no defeat is so bad
+as such a victory.”
+
+“And where was Mr. Daly? He does not seem to have been at the trial?”
+
+“No; it would appear as if he were detained by some pressing necessity
+in Dublin. This letter is in his handwriting; let us see what he says.”
+
+Before the Knight could execute his intention, old Tate appeared at the
+door, and announced the name of Mr. Dempsey.
+
+“You must present our compliments,” said Darcy, hastily, “and say that
+a very particular engagement will prevent our having the pleasure of
+receiving his visit this evening.”
+
+“This is really intolerable,” said Lady Eleanor, who, never much
+disposed to look favorably on that gentleman, felt his present
+appearance anything but agreeable.
+
+“You hear what your master says,” said Helen to the old man, who, never
+having in his whole life received a similar order, felt proportionately
+astonished and confused.
+
+“Tell Mr. Dempsey we are very sorry; but--”
+
+“For all that, he won't be denied,” said Paul, himself finishing the
+sentence, while, passing unceremoniously in front of Tate, he walked
+boldly into the middle of the room. His face was flushed, his forehead
+covered with perspiration, and his clothes, stained with dust, showed
+that he had come off a very long and fast walk. He wiped his forehead
+with a flaring cotton handkerchief, and then, with a long-drawn puff,
+threw himself back into an arm-chair.
+
+There was something so actually comic in the cool assurance of the
+little man, that Darcy lost all sense of annoyance at the interruption,
+while he surveyed him and enjoyed the dignified coolness of Lady
+Eleanor's reception.
+
+“That's the devil's own bit of a road,” said Paul, as he fanned himself
+with a music-book, “between this and Coleraine. Whenever it 's not going
+up a hill, it's down one. Do you ever walk that way, ma'am?”
+
+“Very seldom indeed, sir.”
+
+“Faith, and I 'd wager, when you do, that it gives you a pain just here
+below the calf of the leg, and a stitch in the small of the back.”
+
+Lady Eleanor took no notice of this remark, but addressed some
+observation to Helen, at which the young girl smiled, and said, in a
+whisper,--
+
+“Oh, he will not stay long.”
+
+“I am afraid, Mr. Dempsey,” said the Knight, “that. I must be
+uncourteous enough to say that we are unprepared for a visitor this
+evening. Some letters of importance have just arrived; and as they will
+demand all our attention, you will, I am sure, excuse the frankness of
+my telling you that we desire to be alone.”
+
+“So you shall in a few minutes more,” said Paul, coolly. “Let me have
+a glass of sherry and water, or, if wine is not convenient, ditto of
+brandy, and I 'm off. I did n't come to stop. It was a letter that you
+forgot at the post-office, marked 'with speed,' on the outside, that
+brought me here; for I was spending a few days at Coleraine with old
+Hewson.”
+
+The kindness of this thoughtful act at once eradicated every memory of
+the vulgarity that accompanied it; and as the Knight took the letter
+from his hands, he hastened to apologize for what he said by adding his
+thanks for the service.
+
+“I offered a fellow a shilling to bring it, but being harvest-time he
+wouldn't come,” said Dempsey. “Phew! what a state the roads are in! dust
+up to your ankles!”
+
+“Come now, pray help yourself to some wine and water,” said the Knight;
+“and while you do so, I 'll ask permission to open my letter.”
+
+“There 's a short cut down by Port-na-happle mill, they tell me, ma'am,”
+ said Dempsey, who now found a much more complaisant listener than at
+first; “but, to tell you the truth, I don't think it would suit you
+or me; there are stone walls to climb over and ditches to cross. Miss
+Helen, there, might get over them, she has a kind of a thoroughbred
+stride of her own, but fencing destroys me outright.”
+
+“It was a very great politeness to think of bringing us the letter, and
+I trust your fatigues will not be injurious to you,” said Lady Eleanor,
+smiling faintly.
+
+“Worse than the damage to a pair of very old shoes, ma'am, I don't
+anticipate; I begin to suspect they've taken their last walk this
+evening.”
+
+While Mr. Dempsey contemplated the coverings of his feet with a very sad
+expression, the Knight continued to read the letter he held in his hand
+with an air of extreme intentness.
+
+“Eleanor, my dear,” said he, as he retired into the deep recess of a
+window, “come here for a moment.”
+
+“I guessed there would be something of consequence in that,” said
+Dempsey, with a sly glance from Helen to the two figures beside the
+window. “The envelope was a thin one, and I read 'War Office' in the
+corner of the inside cover.”
+
+Not heeding the delicacy of this announcement, but only thinking of the
+fact, which she at once connected with Lionel's fortunes, Helen turned
+an anxious and searching glance towards the window; but the Knight
+and Lady Eleanor had entered a small room adjoining, and were already
+concealed from view.
+
+“Was he ever in the militia, miss?” asked Dempsey, with a gesture of his
+thumb to indicate of whom he spoke.
+
+“I believe not,” said Helen, smiling at the pertinacity of his
+curiosity.
+
+“Well, well,” resumed Dempsey, with a sigh, “I would not wish him a
+hotter march than I had this day, and little notion I had of the same
+tramp only ten minutes before. I was reading the 'Saunders' of Tuesday
+last, with an account of that business done at Mayo between O'Halloran
+and the young officer-you know what I mean?”
+
+“No, I have not heard it; pray tell me,” said she, with an eagerness
+very different from her former manner.
+
+“It was a horsewhipping, miss, that a young fellow in the Guards gave
+O'Halloran, just as he was coming out of court; something the Counsellor
+said about somebody in the trial,--names never stay in my head, but
+I remember it was a great trial at the Westport assizes, and that
+O'Halloran came down special, and faith, so did the young captain too;
+and if the lawyer laid it on very heavily within the court, the red-coat
+made up for it outside. But I believe I have the paper in my pocket,
+and, if you like, I'll read it out for you.”
+
+“Pray do,” said Helen, whose anxiety was now intense.
+
+“Well, here goes,” said Mr. Dempsey; “but with your permission I 'll
+just wet my lips again. That 's elegant sherry!”
+
+Having sipped and tasted often enough to try the young lady's patience
+to its last limit, he unfolded the paper, and read aloud,--
+
+“'When Counsellor O'Halloran had concluded his eloquent speech in the
+trial of Darcy v. Hickman,--for a full report of which see our early
+columns,--a young gentleman, pushing his way through the circle of
+congratulating friends, accosted him with the most insulting and
+opprobrious epithets, and failing to elicit from the learned gentleman
+a reciprocity,'-that means, miss, that O'Halloran did n't show
+fight,--'struck him repeatedly across the shoulders, and even the face,
+with a horsewhip. He was immediately committed under a bench warrant,
+but was liberated almost at once. Perhaps our readers may understand
+these proceedings more clearly when we inform them that Captain
+Forester, the aggressor in this case, is a near relative of our Irish
+Secretary, Lord Castlereagh.' That 's very neatly put, miss, isn't it?”
+ said Mr. Dempsey, with a sly twinkle of the eye; “it's as much as to say
+that the Castle chaps may do what they please. But it won't end there,
+depend upon it; the Counsellor will see it out.”
+
+Helen paid little attention to the observation, for, having taken up the
+paper as Mr. Dempsey laid it down, she was deeply engaged in the report
+of the trial and O'Halloran's speech.
+
+“Wasn't that a touching-up the old Knight of Gwynne got?” said Dempsey,
+as, with his glass to his eye, he peered over her shoulder at the
+newspaper. “Faith, O'Halloran flayed him alive! He 's the boy can do it!”
+
+Helen scarce seemed to breathe, as, with a heart almost bursting with
+indignant anger, she read the lines before her.
+
+[Illustration: 118]
+
+“Strike him!” cried she, at length, unable longer to control the passion
+that worked within her; “had he trampled him beneath his feet, it had
+not been too much?”
+
+The little man started, and stared with amazement at the young girl,
+as, with flashing eyes and flushed cheek, she arose from her seat, and,
+tearing the paper into fragments, stamped upon them with her foot.
+
+“Blood alive, miss, don't destroy the paper! I only got a loan of it
+from Mrs. Kennedy, of the Post-office; she slipped it out of the cover,
+though it was addressed to Lord O'Neil. Oh dear! oh dear! it's a nice
+article now!”
+
+These words were uttered in the very depth of despair, as, kneeling
+down on the carpet, Mr. Dempsey attempted to collect and arrange the
+scattered fragments.
+
+“It's no use in life! Here's the Widow Wallace's pills in the middle of
+the Counsellor's speech! and the last day's drawing of the lottery mixed
+up with that elegant account of old Darcy's--”
+
+A hand which, if of the gentlest mould, now made a gesture to enforce
+silence, arrested Mr. Dempsey's words, and at the same moment the Knight
+entered with Lady Eleanor. Darcy started as he gazed on the excited
+looks and the air of defiance of his daughter, and for a second a deep
+flush suffused his features, as with an angry frown he asked of Dempsey,
+“What does this mean, sir?”
+
+“D-n me if I know what it means!” exclaimed Paul, in utter despair at
+the confusion of his own faculties. “My brain is in a whirl.”
+
+“It was a little political dispute between Mr. Dempsey and myself, sir,”
+ said Helen, with a faint smile. “He was reading for me an article
+from the newspaper, whose views were so very opposite to mine, and his
+advocacy of them so very animated, that--in short, we both became warm.”
+
+“Yes, that's it,” cried Dempsey, glad to accept any explanation
+of a case in which he had no precise idea wherein lay the
+difficulty,--“that's it; I 'll take my oath it was.”
+
+“He is a fierce Unionist,” said Helen, speaking rapidly to cover her
+increasing confusion, “and has all the conventional cant by heart,
+'old-fashioned opinions,' 'musty prejudices,' and so on.”
+
+“I did not suspect you were so eager a politician, my dear Helen,” said
+the Knight, as, half chidingly, he threw his eyes towards the scattered
+fragments of the torn newspaper.
+
+The young girl blushed till her neck became crimson: shame, at the
+imputation of having so far given way to passion; sorrow, at the
+reproof, whose injustice she did not dare to expose; and regret, at the
+necessity of dissimulation, all overwhelming her at the same moment.
+
+“I am not angry, my sweet girl,” said the Knight, as he drew his arm
+around her, and spoke in a low, fond accent. “I may be sorry--sincerely
+sorry--at the social condition that has suffered political feeling to
+approach our homes and our firesides, and thus agitate hearts as gentle
+as yours by these rude themes. For your sentiments on these subjects I
+can scarcely be a severe critic, for I believe they are all my own.”
+
+“Let us forget it all,” said Helen, eagerly; for she saw-that Mr.
+Dempsey, having collected once more the torn scraps, was busy in
+arranging them into something like order. In fact, his senses were
+gradually recovering from the mystification into which they had been
+thrown, and he was anxious to vindicate himself before the party. “All
+the magnanimity, however, must not be mine,” continued she; “and until
+that odious paper is consumed, I 'll sign no treaty of peace.” So
+saying, and before Dempsey could interfere to prevent it, she snatched
+up the fragments, and threw them into the fire. “Now, Mr. Dempsey, we
+are friends again,” said she, laughing.
+
+“The Lord grant it!” ejaculated Paul, who really felt no ambition for
+so energetic an enemy. “I 'll never tell a bit of news in your company
+again, so long as my name is Paul Dempsey. Every officer of the Guards
+may horsewhip the Irish bar--I was forgetting--not a syllable more.”
+
+The Knight, fortunately, did not hear the last few words, for he was
+busily engaged in reading the letter he still held in his hands; at
+length he said,--
+
+“Mr. Dempsey has conferred one great favor on us by bringing us this
+letter; and as its contents are of a nature not to admit of any delay--”
+
+“He will increase the obligation by taking his leave,” added Paul,
+rising, and, for once in his life, really well pleased at an opportunity
+of retiring.
+
+“I did not say that,” said Darcy, smiling.
+
+“No, no, Mr. Dempsey,” added Lady Eleanor, with more than her wonted
+cordiality; “you will, I hope, remain for tea.”
+
+“No, ma'am, I thank you; I have a little engagement,--I made a promise.
+If I get safe out of the house without some infernal blunder or other,
+it 's only the mercy of Providence.” And with this burst of honest
+feeling, Paul snatched up his hat, and without waiting for the ceremony
+of leave-taking, rushed out of the room, and was soon seen crossing the
+wide common at a brisk pace.
+
+“Our little friend has lost his reason,” said the Knight, laughing.
+“What have you been doing to him, Helen?”
+
+A gesture to express innocence of all interference was the only reply,
+and the party became suddenly silent.
+
+“Has Helen seen that letter?” said Lady Eleanor, faintly, and Darcy
+handed the epistle to his daughter. “Read it aloud, my dear,” continued
+Lady Eleanor; “for, up to this, my impressions are so confused, I know
+not which is reality, which mere apprehension.”
+
+Helen's eyes glanced to the top of the letter, and saw the words “War
+Office;” she then proceeded to read:--
+
+“'Sir,--In reply to the application made to the Commander-in-Chief
+of the forces in your behalf, expressing your desire for an active
+employment, I have the honor to inform you that his Royal Highness,
+having graciously taken into consideration the eminent services rendered
+by you in former years, and the distinguished character of that corps
+which, raised by your exertions, still bears your name, has desired me
+to convey his approval of your claim, and his desire, should a favorable
+opportunity present itself, of complying with your wish. I have the
+honor to remain, your most humble and obedient servant,
+
+“'Harry Greville,
+
+“_Private Secretary_.”
+
+On an enclosed slip of paper was the single line in pencil:--
+
+“H. G. begs to intimate to Colonel Darcy the propriety of attending the
+next levee of H. R. H., which will take place on the 14th.”
+
+“Now, you, who read riddles, my dearest Helen, explain this one to us.
+I made no application of the kind alluded to, nor am I aware of any one
+having ever done so for me. The thought never once occurred to me, that
+his Majesty or his Royal Highness would accept the services of an old
+and shattered hulk, while many a glorious three-decker lies ready to be
+launched from the stocks. I could not have presumed to ask such a favor,
+nor do I well know how to acknowledge it.”
+
+“But is there anything so very strange,” said Helen, proudly, “that
+those highly placed by station should be as highly gifted by nature,
+and that his Royal Highness, having heard of your unmerited calumnies,
+should have seen that this was the fitting moment to remember the
+services you have rendered the Crown? I have heard that there are
+several posts of high trust and honor conferred on those who, like
+yourself, have won distinction in the service.”
+
+“Helen is right,” said Lady Eleanor, drawing a long breath, and as if
+released of a weighty load of doubt and uncertainty; “this is the real
+explanation; the phrases of official life may give it another coloring
+to our eyes, but such, I feel assured, is the true solution.”
+
+“I should like to think it so,” said Darcy, feelingly; “it would be a
+great source of pride to me at this moment, when my fortunes are lower
+than ever they were,--lower than ever I anticipated they might be,--to
+know that my benefactor was the Monarch. In any case I must lose no time
+in acknowledging this mark of favor. It is now the 4th of the month; to
+be in London by the 14th, I should leave this to-morrow.”
+
+“It is better to do so,” said Lady Eleanor, with an utterance from which
+a great effort had banished all agitation; “Helen and I are safe and
+well here, and as happy as we can be when away from you and Lionel.”
+
+“Poor Lionel!” said the Knight, tenderly; “what good news for him it
+would be were they to give me some staff appointment,--I might have him
+near us. Come, Eleanor,” added he, with more gayety of manner, “I feel a
+kind of presentiment of good tidings. But we are forgetting Bagenal
+Daly all this time; perhaps this letter of his may throw some light on
+the matter.”
+
+Darcy now broke the seal of Daly's note, which, even for him, was one
+of the briefest. This was so far fortunate, since his writing was in
+his very worst style, blotted and half erased in many places, scarcely
+legible anywhere. It was only by assembling a “committee of the whole
+house” that the Darcys were enabled to decipher even a portion of this
+unhappy document. As well as it could be rendered, it ran somewhat
+thus:--
+
+“The verdict is against us; old Bretson never forgave you carrying away
+the medal from him in Trinity some fifty years back; he charged dead
+against you; I always said he would. _Summum jus, summa injuria_--The
+Chief Justice--the greatest wrong! and the jury the fellows who lived
+under you, in your own town, and their fathers and grandfathers! at
+least, as many of the rascals as had such.--Never mind, Bicknell has
+moved for a new trial; they have gained the 'Habere' this time, and so
+has O'Halloran--you heard of the thrashing--”
+
+Here two tremendous patches of ink left some words that followed quite
+unreadable.
+
+“What can this mean?” said Darcy, repeating the passage over three
+or four times, while Helen made no effort to enlighten him in the
+difficulty. Battled in all his attempts, he read on: “'I saw him in his
+way through Dublin last night,' Who can he possibly mean?” said Darcy,
+laying down the letter, and pondering for several minutes.
+
+“O'Halloran, perhaps,” said Lady Eleanor, in vain seeking a better
+elucidation.
+
+“Oh, not him, of course!” cried Darcy; “he goes on to say, that 'he is
+a devilish high-spirited young fellow, and for an Englishman a
+warm-blooded animal.' Really this is too provoking; at such a time as
+this he might have taken pains to be a little clearer,” exclaimed Darcy.
+
+The letter concluded with some mysterious hints about intelligence that
+a few days might disclose, but from what quarter or on what subject
+nothing was said, and it was actually with a sense of relief Darcy read
+the words, “Yours ever, Bagenal Daly,” at the foot of the letter, and
+thus spared himself the torment of further doubts and guesses.
+
+Helen was restrained from at once conveying the solution of the mystery
+by recollecting the energy she had displayed in her scene with Mr.
+Dempsey, and of which the shame still lingered on her flushed cheek.
+
+“He adds something here about writing by the next post,” said Lady
+Eleanor.
+
+“But before that arrives I shall be away,” said the Knight; and the
+train of thought thus evoked soon erased all memory of other matters.
+And now the little group gathered together to discuss the coming
+journey, and talk over all the plans by which anxiety was to be beguiled
+and hope cherished till they met again.
+
+“Miss Daly will not be a very importunate visitor,” said Lady Eleanor,
+dryly, “judging at least from the past; she has made one call here since
+we came, and then only to leave her card.”
+
+“And if Helen does not cultivate a more conciliating manner, I scarce
+think that Mr. Dempsey will venture on coming either,” said the Knight,
+laughing.
+
+“I can readily forgive all the neglect,” said Helen, haughtily, “in
+compensation for the tranquillity.”
+
+“And yet, my dear Helen,” said Darcy, “there is a danger in that same
+compact. We should watch carefully to see whether, in the isolation of
+a life apart from others, we are not really indulging the most refined
+selfishness, and dignifying with the name of philosophy a solitude we
+love for the indulgence of our own egotism. If we are to have our hearts
+stirred and our sympathies strongly moved, let the themes be great ones,
+but above all things let us avoid magnifying the petty incidents
+of daily occurrence into much consequence: this is what the life of
+monasteries and convents teaches, and a worse lesson there need not be.”
+
+Darcy spoke with more than usual seriousness, for he had observed some
+time past how Helen had imbibed much of Lady Eleanor's distance towards
+her humble neighbors, and was disposed to retain a stronger memory of
+their failings in manner than of their better and heartier traits of
+character.
+
+The young girl felt the remark less as a reproof than a warning, and
+said,--
+
+“I will not forget it.”
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VII. A PARTING INTERVIEW
+
+When Heffernan, with his charge, Forester, reached Dublin, he drove
+straight to Castlereagh's house, affectedly to place the young man under
+the protection of his distinguished relative, but in reality burning
+with eager impatience to recount his last stroke of address, and to
+display the cunning artifice by which he had embroiled O'Reilly with the
+great popular leader. Mr. Heffernan had a more than ordinary desire
+to exhibit his skill on this occasion; he was still smarting under the
+conscious sense of having been duped by O'Reilly, and could not rest
+tranquilly until revenged. Under the mask of a most benevolent purpose,
+O'Reilly had induced Heffernan to procure Lionel Darcy an appointment to
+a regiment in India. Heffernan undertook the task, not, indeed, moved by
+any kindliness of feeling towards the youth, but as a means of reopening
+once more negotiations with O'Reilly; and now to discover that he
+had interested himself simply to withdraw a troublesome witness in a
+suit--that he had been, in his own phrase, “jockeyed”--was an insult to
+his cleverness he could not endure.
+
+As Heffernan and Forester drove up to the door, they perceived that a
+travelling-carriage, ready packed and loaded, stood in waiting, while
+the bustle and movement of servants indicated a hurried departure.
+
+“What's the matter, Hutton?” asked Heffernan of the valet who appeared
+at the moment; “is his Lordship at home?”
+
+“Yes, sir, in the drawing-room; but my Lord is just leaving for England.
+He is now a Cabinet Minister.”
+
+Heffernan smiled, and affected to hear the tidings with delight, while
+he hastily desired the servant to announce him.
+
+The drawing-room was crowded by a strange and anomalous-looking
+assemblage, whose loud talking and laughing entirely prevented the
+announcement of Con Heffernan's name from reaching Lord Castlereagh's
+ears. Groups of personal friends come to say good-bye, deputations eager
+to have the last word in the ear of the departing Secretary, tradesmen
+begging recommendations to his successor, with here and there a
+disappointed suitor, earnestly imploring future consideration, were
+mixed up with hurrying servants, collecting the various minor articles
+which lay scattered through the apartment.
+
+The time which it cost Heffernan to wedge his way through the dense
+crowd was not wholly profitless, since it enabled him to assume that
+look of cordial satisfaction at the noble Secretary's promotion which
+he was so very far from really feeling. Like most men who cultivate mere
+cunning, he underrated all who do not place the greatest reliance upon
+it, and in this way conceived a very depreciating estimate of Lord
+Castlereagh's ability. Knowing how deeply he had himself been trusted,
+and how much employed in state transactions, he speculated on a long
+career of political influence, and that, while his Lordship remained as
+Secretary, his own skill and dexterity would never be dispensed with.
+This pleasant illusion was now suddenly dispelled, and he saw all his
+speculations scattered to the wind at once; in fact, to borrow his own
+sagacious illustration, “he had to submit to a new deal with his hand
+full of trumps.”
+
+He was still endeavoring to disentangle himself from the throng, when
+Lord Castlereagh's quick eye discovered him.
+
+“And here comes Heffernan,” cried he, laughingly; “the only man wanting
+to fill up the measure of congratulations. Pray, my Lord, move one step
+and rescue our poor friend from suffocation.”
+
+“By Jove! my Lord, one would imagine you were the rising and not the
+setting sun, from all this adulating assemblage,” said Heffernan, as
+he shook the proffered hand of the Secretary, and held it most
+ostentatiously in his cordial pressure. “This was a complete surprise
+for me,” added he. “I only arrived this evening with Forester.”
+
+“With Dick? Indeed! I'm very glad the truant has turned up again. Where
+is he?”
+
+“He passed me on the stairs, I fancy to his room, for he muttered
+something about going over in the packet along with you.”
+
+“And where have you been, Heffernan, and what doing?” asked Lord
+Castlereagh, with that easy smile that so well became his features.
+
+“That I can scarcely tell you here,” said Heffernan, dropping his voice
+to a whisper, “though I fancy the news would interest you.” He made a
+motion towards the recess of a window, and Lord Castlereagh accepted the
+suggestion, but with an indolence and half-apathy which did not escape
+Heffernan's shrewd perception. Partly piqued by this, and partly
+stimulated by his own personal interest in the matter, Heffernan
+related, with unwonted eagerness, the details of his visit to the West,
+narrating with all his own skill the most striking characteristics of
+the O'Reilly household, and endeavoring to interest his hearer by those
+little touches of native archness in description of which he was no mean
+master.
+
+But often as they had before sufficed to amuse his Lordship, they seemed
+a failure now; for he listened, if not with impatience, yet with
+actual indifference, and seemed more than once as if about to stop the
+narrative by the abrupt question, “How can this possibly interest _me?_”
+
+Heffernan read the expression, and felt it as plainly as though it were
+spoken.
+
+“I am tedious, my Lord,” said he, whilst a slight flush colored the
+middle of his cheek; “perhaps I only weary you.”
+
+“He must be a fastidious hearer who could weary of Mr. Heffernan's
+company,” said his Lordship, with a smile so ambiguous that Heffernan
+resumed with even greater embarrassment,--
+
+“I was about to observe, my Lord, that this same member for Mayo
+has become much more tractable. He evidently sees the necessity of
+confirming his new position, and, I am confident, with very little
+notice, might be con-verted into a stanch Government supporter.”
+
+“Your old favorite theory, Heffernan,” said the Secretary, laughing; “to
+warm these Popish grubs into Protestant butterflies by the sunshine of
+kingly favor, forgetting the while that 'the winter of their discontent'
+is never far distant. But please to remember, besides, that gold mines
+will not last forever,--the fountain of honor will at last run dry; and
+if--”
+
+“I ask pardon, my Lord,” interrupted Heffernan. “I only alluded to those
+favors which cost the Minister little, and the Crown still less,--that
+social acceptance from the Court here upon which some of your Irish
+friends set great store. If you could find an opportunity of suggesting
+something of this kind, or if your Lordship's successor--”
+
+“Heaven pity him!” exclaimed Lord Castlereagh. “He will have enough on
+his hands, without petty embarrassments of this sort. Without you have
+promised, Heffernan,” added he, hastily. “If you have already made any
+pledge, of course we must sustain your credit.”
+
+“I, my Lord! I trust you know my discretion better than to suspect me.
+I merely threw out the suggestion from supposing that your Lordship's
+interest in our poor concerns here might outlive your translation to a
+more distinguished position.”
+
+There was a tone of covert impertinence in the accent, as well as the
+words, which, while Lord Castlereagh was quick enough to perceive, he
+was too shrewd to mark by any notice.
+
+“And so,” said he, abruptly changing the topic, “this affair of
+Forester's shortened your visit?”
+
+“Of course. Having cut the knot, I left O'Reilly and Conolly to the
+tender mercies of O'Halloran, who, I perceive by to-day's paper, has
+denounced his late client in round terms. Another reason, my Lord, for
+looking after O'Reilly at this moment. It is so easy to secure a prize
+deserted by her crew.”
+
+“I wish Dick had waited a day or two,” said Lord Castlereagh, not
+heeding Heffernan's concluding remark, “and then I should have been off.
+As it is, he would have done better to adjourn the horse-whipping sine
+die, His lady-mother will scarcely distinguish between the two parties
+in such a conflict, and probably deem the indignity pretty equally
+shared by both parties.”
+
+“A very English judgment on an Irish quarrel,” observed Heffernan.
+
+“And you yourself, Heffernan,--when are we to see you in London?”
+
+“Heaven knows, my Lord. Sometimes I fancy that I ought not to quit
+my post here, even for a day; then again I begin to fear lest the new
+officials may see things in a different light, and that I may be thrown
+aside as the propagator of antiquated notions.”
+
+“Mere modesty, Heffernan,” said Lord Castlereagh, with a look of the
+most comic gravity. “You ought to know by this time that no government
+can go on without you. You are the fly-wheel that regulates motion
+and perpetuates impulse to the entire machine. I 'd venture almost to
+declare that you stand in the inventory of articles transmitted from one
+viceroy to another; and as we read of 'one throne covered with crimson
+velvet, and one state couch with gilt supporters,' so we might chance to
+fall upon the item of 'one Con Heffernan, Kildare Place.'”
+
+“In what capacity, my Lord?” said Heffernan, endeavoring to conceal his
+anger by a smile.
+
+“Your gifts are too numerous for mention. They might better be summed up
+under the title of 'State Judas.'”
+
+“You forget, my Lord, that he carried the bag. Now I was never
+purse-bearer even to the Lord Chancellor. But I can pardon the simile,
+coming, as I see it does, from certain home convictions. Your Lordship
+was doubtless assimilating yourself to another historical character of
+the same period, and, would, like him, accept the iniquity, but 'wash
+your hands' of its consequences.”
+
+“Do you hear that, my Lord?” said Lord Castlereagh, turning round,
+and addressing the Bishop of Kilmore. “Mr. Heffernan has discovered
+a parallel between my character and that of Pontius Pilate.” A look of
+rebuking severity from the prelate was directed towards Heffernan, who
+meekly said,--
+
+“I was only reproving his Lordship for permitting me to discharge
+_all_ the duties of Secretary for Ireland, and yet receive none of the
+emoluments.”
+
+“But you refused office in every shape and form,” said Lord Castlereagh,
+hastily. “Yes, gentlemen, as the last act of my official life amongst
+you,”--here he raised his voice, and moved into the centre of the
+room,--“I desire to make this public declaration, that as often as
+I have solicited Mr. Heffernan to accept some situation of trust
+and profit under the Crown, he has as uniformly declined; not, it is
+needless to say, from any discrepancy in our political views, for I
+believe we are agreed on every point, but upon the ground of maintaining
+his own freedom of acting and judging.”
+
+The declamatory tone in which he spoke these words, and the glances of
+quiet intelligence that were exchanged through the assembly, were in
+strong contrast with the forced calmness of Heffernan, who, pale and red
+by turns, could barely suppress the rage that worked within him; nor
+was it without an immense effort he could mutter a feigned expression of
+gratitude for his Lordship's panegyric, while he muttered to himself,--
+
+“You shall rue this yet!”
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VIII. THE FIRE.
+
+It was late in the evening as the Knight of Gwynne entered Dublin, and
+took up his abode for the night in an obscure inn at the north side
+of the city. However occupied his thoughts up to that time by the
+approaching event in his own fortune, he could not help feeling a sudden
+pang as he saw once more the well-known landmarks that reminded him of
+former days of happiness and triumph. Strange as it may now sound, there
+was a time when Irish gentlemen were proud of their native city; when
+they regarded its University with feelings of affectionate memory,
+as the scene of early efforts and ambitions, and could look on its
+Parliament House as the proud evidence of their national independence!
+Socially, too, they considered Dublin--and with reason--second to no
+city of Europe; for there was a period, brief but glorious, when the
+highest breeding of the courtier mingled with the most polished wit and
+refined conversation, and when the splendor of wealth, freely displayed
+as it was, was only inferior to the more brilliant lustre of a society
+richer in genius and in beauty than any capital of the world.
+
+None had been a more favored participator in these scenes than Darcy
+himself: his personal gifts, added to the claims of his family and
+fortune, secured him early acceptance in the highest circles; and if his
+abilities had not won the very highest distinctions, it seemed rather
+from his own indifference than from their deficiency.
+
+In those days his arrival in town was the signal for a throng of
+visitors to call, all eagerly asking on what day they might secure
+him to dine or sup, to meet this one or that. The thousand flatteries
+society stores up for her favorites, all awaited him. Parties whose
+fulfilment hung listlessly in doubt were now hastily determined on, as
+“Darcy has come” got whispered abroad; and many a scheme of pleasure but
+half planned found a ready advocacy when the prospect of obtaining him
+as a guest presented itself.
+
+The consciousness of social success is a great element in the victory.
+Darcy had this, but without the slightest taint of vain boastfulness
+or egotism; his sense of his own distinction was merely sufficient to
+heighten his enjoyment of the world, without detracting ever so little
+from the manly and unassuming features of his character. It is true he
+endeavored, and even gave himself pains, to be an agreeable companion;
+but he belonged to a school and a time when conversation was cultivated
+as an art, and when men preferred making the dinner-table and the
+drawing-room the arena of their powers, to indicting verses for an
+“Annual,” or composing tales for a fashionable “Miscellany.”
+
+We have said enough, perhaps, to show what Dublin was to him once. How
+very different it seemed to his eyes now! The season was late summer,
+and the city dusty and deserted,--few persons in the streets, scarcely
+a carriage to be seen; an air of listlessness and apathy was over
+everything, for it was the period when the country was just
+awakening after the intoxicating excitement of the Parliamentary
+straggle,--awakening to discover that it had been betrayed and deserted!
+
+As soon as Darcy had taken some slight refreshment, he set out in search
+of Daly. His first visit was to Henrietta Street, to his own house,
+or rather what had been his, for it was already let, and a flaring
+brass-plate on the door proclaimed it the office of a fashionable
+solicitor. He knocked, and inquired if any one “knew where Mr. Bagenal
+Daly now resided;” but the name seemed perfectly unknown. He next tried
+Bicknell's; but that gentleman had not returned since the circuit:
+he was repairing the fatigues of his profession by a week or two's
+relaxation at a watering-place.
+
+He did not like himself to call at the club, but he despatched a
+messenger from the inn, who brought word back that Mr. Daly had not
+been there for several weeks, and that his present address was unknown.
+Worried and annoyed, Darcy tried in turn each place where Daly had been
+wont to frequent, but all in vain. Some had seen him, but not lately;
+others suggested that he did not appear much in public on account of his
+moneyed difficulties; and one or two limited themselves to a cautious
+declaration of ignorance, with a certain assumed shrewdness, as though
+to say that they could tell more if they would.
+
+It was near midnight when Darcy returned to the inn, tired and worn
+out by his unsuccessful search. The packet in which he was to sail for
+England was to leave the port early in the morning, and he sat down in
+the travellers' room, exhausted and fatigued, till his chamber should be
+got ready for him.
+
+The inn stood in one of the narrow streets leading out of Smithfield,
+and was generally resorted to by small farmers and cattle-dealers
+repairing to the weekly market. Of these, three or four still lingered
+in the public room, conning over their accounts and discussing the
+prices of “short-horns and black faces” with much interest, and
+anticipating all the possible changes the new political condition of the
+country might be likely to induce.
+
+Darcy could scarcely avoid smiling as he overheard some of these
+speculations, wherein the prospect of a greater export trade was deemed
+the most certain indication of national misfortune. His attention was,
+however, suddenly withdrawn from the conversation by a confused murmur
+of voices, and the tramp of many feet in the street without The noise
+gradually increased, and attracted the notice of the others, and
+suddenly the words “Fire! fire!” repeated from mouth to mouth, explained
+the tumult.
+
+As the tide of men was borne onward, the din grew louder, and at length
+the narrow street in front of the inn became densely crowded by a mob
+hurrying eagerly forward, and talking in loud, excited voices.
+
+“They say that Newgate is on fire, sir,” said the landlord, as, hastily
+entering, he addressed Darcy; “but if you 'll come with me to the top of
+the house, we 'll soon see for ourselves.”
+
+Darcy followed the man to the upper story, whence, by a small ladder,
+they obtained an exit on the roof. The night was calm and starlight,
+and the air was still. What a contrast--that spangled heaven in all its
+tranquil beauty--to the dark streets below, where, in tumultuous uproar,
+the commingled mass was seen by the uncertain glimmer of the lamps, few
+and dim as they were. Darcy could mark that the crowd consisted of
+the very lowest and most miserable-looking class of the capital, the
+dwellers in the dark alleys and purlieus of the ill-favored region. By
+their excited gestures and wild accents, it was clear to see how much
+more of pleasure than of sorrow they felt at the occasion that now
+roused them from their dreary garrets and damp cellars. Shouts of mad
+triumph and cries of menace burst from them as they went. The Knight was
+roused from a moody contemplation of the throng by the landlord saying
+aloud,--
+
+“True enough, the jail is on fire: see, yonder, where the dark smoke is
+rolling up, that is Newgate.”
+
+“But the building is of stone, almost entirely of stone, with little or
+no wood in its construction,” said Darcy; “I cannot imagine how it could
+take fire.”
+
+“The floors, the window-frames, the rafters are of wood, sir,” said the
+other; “and then,” added he, with a cunning leer, “remember what the
+inhabitants are!”
+
+The Knight little minded the remark, for his whole gaze was fixed on the
+cloud of smoke, dense and black as night, that rolled forth, as if
+from the ground, and soon enveloped the jail and all the surrounding
+buildings in darkness.
+
+“What can that mean?” said he, in amazement.
+
+“It means that this is no accident, sir,” said the man, shrewdly; “it's
+only damp straw and soot can produce the effect you see yonder; it
+is done by the prisoners--see, it is increasing! and here come the
+fire-engines!”
+
+As he spoke, a heavy, cavernous sound was heard rising from the street,
+where now a body of horse-police were seen escorting the fire-engines.
+The service was not without difficulty, for the mob offered every
+obstacle short of open resistance; and once it was discovered that the
+traces were cut, and considerable delay thereby occasioned.
+
+“The smoke is spreading; see, sir, how it rolls this way, blacker and
+heavier than before!”
+
+“It is but smoke, after all,” said Darcy; but although the words were
+uttered half contemptuously, his heart beat anxiously as the dense
+volume hung suspended in the air, growing each moment blacker as fresh
+masses arose. The cries and yells of the excited mob were now wilder and
+more frantic, and seemed to issue from the black, ill-omened mass that
+filled the atmosphere.
+
+“That's not smoke, sir; look yonder!” said the man, seizing Darcy's arm,
+and pointing to a reddish glare that seemed trying to force a passage
+through the smoke, and came not from the jail, but from some building at
+the side or in front of it.
+
+“There again!” cried he, “that is fire!”
+
+The words were scarcely uttered, when a cheer burst from the mob
+beneath. A yell more dissonant and appalling could not have broken from
+demons than was that shout of exultation, as the red flame leaped up and
+flashed towards the sky. As the strong host of a battle will rout and
+scatter the weaker enemy, so did the fierce element dispel the less
+powerful; and now the lurid glow of a great fire lit up the air, and
+marked out with terrible distinctness the waving crowd that jammed up
+the streets,--the windows filled with terrified faces, and the very
+house-tops crowded by terror-stricken and distracted groups.
+
+The scene was truly an awful one; the fire raged in some houses exactly
+in front of the jail, pouring with unceasing violence its flood of flame
+through every door and window, and now sending bright jets through
+the roofs, which, rent with a report like thunder, soon became one
+undistinguish-able mass of flame. The cries for succor, the shouts
+of the firemen, the screams of those not yet rescued, and the still
+increasing excitement of the mob, mingling their hellish yells of
+triumph through all the dread disaster, made up a discord the most
+horrible; while, ever and anon, the police and the crowd were in
+collision, vain efforts being made to keep the mob back from the front
+of the jail, whither they had fled as a refuge from the heat of the
+burning houses.
+
+The fire seemed to spread, defying all the efforts of the engines. From
+house to house the lazy smoke was seen to issue for a moment, and then,
+almost immediately after, a new cry would announce that another building
+was in flames. Meanwhile the smoke, which in the commencement had spread
+from the courtyard and windows of the jail, was again perceived to
+thicken in the same quarter, and suddenly, as if from a preconcerted
+signal, it rolled out from every barred casement and loopholed
+aperture,--from every narrow and deep cell within the lofty walls; and
+the agonized yell of the prisoners burst forth at the same moment, and
+the air seemed to vibrate with shrieks and cries.
+
+“Break open the jail!” resounded on every side. “Don't let the prisoners
+be burned alive!” was uttered in accents whose humanity was far inferior
+to their menace; and, as if with one accord, a rush was made at the
+strongly barred gates of the dark building. The movement, although made
+with the full force of a mighty multitude, was in vain. In vain the
+stones resounded upon the thickly studded door, in vain the strength of
+hundreds pressed down upon the oaken barrier. They might as well have
+tried to force the strong masonry at either side of it!
+
+“Climb the walls!” was now the cry; and the prisoners re-echoed the
+call in tones of shrieking entreaty. The mob, savage from their recent
+repulse at the gate, now seized the ladders employed by the firemen, and
+planted them against the great enclosure-wall of the jail. The police
+endeavored to charge, but, jammed up by the crowd, their bridles in many
+instances cut, their weapons wrested from them, they were almost at the
+mercy of the mob. Orders had been despatched for troops; but as yet they
+had not appeared, and the narrow streets, being actually choked up
+with people, would necessarily delay their progress. If there were any
+persons in that vast mass disposed to repel the violence of the mob,
+they did not dare to avow it, the odds were so fearfully on the side of
+the multitude.
+
+The sentry who guarded the gate was trampled down. Some averred he was
+killed in the first rush upon the gate; certain it was his cap and coat
+were paraded on a pole, as a warning of what awaited his comrades within
+the jail, should they dare to fire on the people. This horrible banner
+was waved to and fro above the stormy multitude. Darcy had but time to
+mark it, when he saw the crowd open, as if cleft asunder by some giant
+band, and at the same instant a man rode through the open space, and,
+tearing down the pole, felled him who carried it to the earth by a
+stroke of his whip. The red glare of the burning houses made the scene
+distinct as daylight; but the next moment a rolling cloud of black smoke
+hid all from view, and left him to doubt the evidence of his eyesight.
+
+“Did you see the horseman?” asked Darcy, in eager curiosity, for he did
+not dare to trust his uncorroborated sense.
+
+“There he is!” cried the other. “I know him by a white band on his arm.
+See, he mounts one of the ladders!--there!--he is near the top!”
+
+A cheer that seemed to shake the very atmosphere now rent the air, as,
+pressing on like soldiers to a breach, the mob approached the walls.
+Some shots were fired by the guard, and their effect might be noted
+by the more savage yells of the mob, whose exasperation was now like
+madness.
+
+“The shots have told,--see!” cried the man. “Now the people are
+gathering in close groups, here and there.”
+
+But Darcy's eyes were fixed on the walls, which were already crowded
+with the mob, the dark figures looking like spectres as they passed and
+repassed through the dense canopy of smoke.
+
+“The soldiers! the soldiers!” screamed the populace from below; and at
+the instant a heavy lumbering sound crept on, and the head of a cavalry
+squadron wheeled into the square before the jail. The remainder of the
+troop soon defiled; but instead of advancing, as was expected, they
+opened their ranks, and displayed the formidable appearance of two
+eight-pounders, from which the limbers were removed with lightning
+speed, and their mouths turned full upon the crowd. Meanwhile an
+infantry force was seen entering the opposite side of the square, thus
+showing the mob that they were taken in front and rear, no escape being
+open save by the small alleys which led off from the street before the
+prison. The military preparations took scarcely more time to effect than
+we have employed to relate; and now began a scene of tumult and terror
+the most dreadful to witness. The order to prime and load, followed
+by the clanking crash of four hundred muskets; the close ranks of the
+cavalry, as if with difficulty restrained from charging down upon them;
+and the lighted fuses of the artillery,--all combined to augment the
+momentary dread, and the shouts of vengeance so lately heard were at
+once changed into piercing cries for mercy. The blazing houses,
+from which the red fire shot up unrestrained, no longer attracted
+notice,--the jail itself had no interest for those whose danger was
+become so imminent.
+
+An indiscriminate rush was made towards the narrow lanes for escape,
+and from these arose the most piercing and agonizing cries,--for while
+pressed down and trampled, many were trodden under foot never again
+to rise; others were wounded or burned by the falling timbers of the
+blazing buildings; and the fearful cry of “The soldiers! the soldiers!”
+ still goaded them on by those behind.
+
+“Look yonder,” cried Darcy's companion, seizing him by the arm,--“look
+there,--near the corner of the market! See, the troops have not
+perceived that ladder, and there are two fellows now descending it.”
+
+True enough. At a remote angle of the jail, not concealed from view by
+the smoke, stood the ladder in question.
+
+“How slowly they move!” cried Darcy, his eyes fixed upon the figures
+with that strange anxiety so inseparable from the fate of all who are
+engaged in hazardous enterprise. “They will certainly be taken.”
+
+“They must be wounded,” cried the other; “they seem to creep rather than
+step--I know the reason, they are in fetters.”
+
+Scarcely was the explanation uttered when the ladder was seen to be
+violently moved as if from above, and the next moment was hurled back
+from the wall, on which several soldiers were now perceived firing on
+those below.
+
+“They are lost!” said the Knight; “they are either captured or cut down
+by this time.”
+
+“The square is cleared already,” said the other; “how quietly the troops
+have done their work! And the fire begins to yield to the engines.”
+
+The square was indeed cleared; save the groups beside the fire-engines,
+and here and there a knot gathered around some wounded man, the space
+was empty, the troops having drawn off to the sides, around which they
+stood in double file. A dark cloud rested over the jail itself, but no
+longer did any smoke issue from the windows; and already the fire, its
+rage in part expended, in part subdued, showed signs of decline.
+
+“If the wind was from the west,” said the landlord, “there 's no saying
+where that might have stopped this night!”
+
+“It is a strange occurrence altogether,” said the Knight, musingly.
+
+“Not a bit strange, sir,” replied the other, whose neighborhood made him
+acquainted with classes and varieties of men of whom Darcy knew nothing;
+“it was an attempt by the prisoners.”
+
+“Do you think so?” asked Darcy.
+
+“Ay, to be sure, sir; there's scarcely a year goes over without one
+contrivance or another for escape. Last autumn two fellows got away by
+following the course of the sewers and gaining the Liffey; they must
+have passed two days underground, and up to their necks in water a great
+part of the time.”
+
+“Ay, and besides that,” observed another,-for already some ten or
+twelve persons were assembled on the roof as well as Darcy and the
+landlord,--“they had to wade the river at the ebb-tide, when the mud is
+at least eight or ten feet deep.”
+
+“How that was done, I cannot guess,” said Darcy.
+
+“A man will do many a thing for liberty, sir,” remarked another, who
+was buttoned up in a frieze coat, although the night was hot and sultry;
+“these poor devils there were willing to risk being roasted alive for
+the chance of it.”
+
+“Quite true,” said Darcy; “fellows that have a taste for breaking the
+law need not be supposed desirous of observing it as to their mode of
+death; and yet they must have been daring rascals to have made such an
+attempt as this.”
+
+“Maybe you know the old song, sir,” said the other, laughing,--
+
+     “There s many a man no bolts can keep,
+     No chains be made to bind them,
+     And tho' the fetters be heavy, and cells be deep,
+     He 'll fling them far behind them.”
+
+“I have heard the ditty,” answered the Knight; “and if my memory serves
+me, the last lines run thus,--
+
+     “Though iron bolts may rust and rot,
+     And stone and mortar crumble,
+     Freney, beware! for well I wot
+     Your pride may have a tumble.”
+
+“Devil a lie in that, anyhow, sir,” said the other, laughing heartily;
+“and an uglier tumble a man needn't have than to slip through Tom
+Galvin's fingers. But I see the fire is out now; so I 'll be jogging
+homeward. Good-night, sir.”
+
+“Good-night,” said Darcy; and then, as the other moved away, turning to
+the landlord, he asked if he knew the stranger.
+
+“No, sir,” was the reply; “he came up with some others to have a look at
+the fire.”
+
+“Well, I 'll to my bed,” said Darcy; “let me be awakened at four
+o'clock. I see I shall have but a short sleep; the day is breaking
+already.”
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IX. BOARDING-HOUSE CRITICISM.
+
+It was not until after the lapse of several days that Darcy's departure
+was made known to the denizens of Port Ballintray.
+
+If the event was slow of announcement, they endeavored to compensate for
+the tardiness of the tidings by the freedom of their commentary on all
+its possible and impossible reasons. There was not a casualty, in the
+whole catalogue of human vicissitudes, unquoted; deaths, births, and
+marriages were ransacked in newspapers; all sudden and unexpected
+turns of fortune were well weighed, accidents and offences scanned
+with cunning eyes, and the various paragraphs to which editorial
+mysteriousness gave an equivocal interpretation were commented on with a
+perseverance and an ingenuity worthy of a higher theme.
+
+It may be remarked that no class of persons are viewed more
+suspiciously, or excite more sharp criticism from their neighbors,
+than those who, with evidently narrow means, prefer retirement and
+estrangement from the world to mixing in the small circle of some petty
+locality. A hundred schemes are put in motion to ascertain by what right
+such superiority is asserted,--why, and on what grounds, they affect
+to be better than their neighbors, and so on; the only offence all the
+while consisting of an isolation which cannot with truth imply any such
+imputation.
+
+When the Knight of Gwynne found himself by an unexpected turn of fortune
+condemned to a station so different from his previous life, he addressed
+himself at once to the difficulties of his lot; and, well aware that all
+reserve on his part would be set down as the cloak of some deep mystery,
+he affected an air of easy cordiality with such of the boarding-house
+party as he ever met, and endeavored, by a tone of well-assumed
+familiarity, to avoid all detection of the difference between him and
+his new associates.
+
+It was in this spirit that he admitted Mr. Dempsey to his acquaintance,
+and even asked him to his cottage. In this diplomacy he met with little
+assistance from Lady Eleanor and his daughter; the former, from a
+natural coldness of manner and an instinctive horror of everything low
+and underbred. Helen's perceptions of such things were just as acute,
+but, inheriting the gay and lively temperament of her father's house,
+she better liked to laugh at the absurdities of vulgar people than
+indulge a mere sense of dislike to their society. Such allies were too
+dangerous to depend on, and hence the Knight conducted his plans unaided
+and unsupported.
+
+Whether Mr. Dempsey was bought off by the flattering exception made in
+his favor, and that he felt an implied superiority on being deemed
+their advocate, he certainly assumed that position in the circle of Mrs.
+Fumbally's household, and on the present occasion sustained his part
+with a certain mysterious demeanor that imposed on many.
+
+“Well, he's gone, at all events!” said a thin old lady with a green
+shade over a pair of greener eyes; “that can't be denied, I hope! Went
+off like a shot on Tuesday morning. Sandy M'Shane brought him into
+Coleraine, for the Dublin coach; and, by the same token, it was an
+outside place he took--”
+
+“I beg your pardon, ma'am,” interposed a fat little woman, with a
+choleric red face and a tremulous underlip,--she was an authoress in the
+provincial papers, and occasionally invented her English as well as her
+incidents,--“it was the Derry mail he went by. Archy M'Clure trod on his
+toe, and asked pardon for it, just to get him into conversation; but he
+seemed very much dejected, and wouldn't interlocute.”
+
+“Very strange indeed!” rejoined the lady of the shade, “because I had my
+information from Williams, the guard of the coach.”
+
+“And I mine from Archy M'Clure himself.”
+
+“And both were wrong,” interposed Paul Dempsey, triumphantly.
+
+“It's not very polite to tell us so, Mr. Dempsey,” said the thin old
+lady, bridling.
+
+“Perhaps the politeness may equal the voracity,” said the fat lady, who
+was almost boiling over with wrath.
+
+“This Gwynne wasn't all right, depend upon it,” interposed a certain
+little man in powder; “I have my own suspicions about him.”
+
+“Well, now, Mr. Dunlop, what's your opinion? I'd like to hear it.”
+
+“What does Mrs. M'Caudlish say?” rejoined the little gentleman,
+turning to the authoress,--for in the boarding-house they both
+presided judicially in all domestic inquisitions regarding conduct and
+character,--“what does Mrs. M'Caudlish say?”
+
+“I prefer letting Mr. Dunlop expose himself before me.”
+
+“The case is doubtful--dark--mysterious,” said Dunlop, with a solemn
+pause after each word.
+
+“The more beyond my conjunctions,” said the lady. “You remember what the
+young gentleman says in the Latin poet, 'Sum Davy, non sum Euripides.'”
+
+“I 'll tell you my opinion, then,” said Mr. Dunlop, who was evidently
+mollified by the classical allusion; and with firm and solemn gesture he
+crossed over to where she sat, and whispered a few words in her ear.
+
+A slight scream, and a long-drawn “Oh!” was all the answer.
+
+“Upon my soul, I believe so,” said Mr. Dunlop, thrusting both hands into
+the furthest depths of his coat-pockets; “nay, more, I'll maintain it!”
+
+“I know what you are driving at,” said Dempsey, laughing; “you think
+he's the gauger that went off with Mrs. Murdoch of Ballyquirk--”
+
+“Mr. Dempsey! Mr. Dempsey! the ladies, sir! the ladies!” called out two
+or three reproving voices from the male portion of the assembly; while,
+as if to corroborate the justice of the appeal, the thin lady drew her
+shade down two inches lower, and Mr. Dunlop's face became what painters
+call “of a warm tint.”
+
+“Oh! never talk of a rope where a man's father was hanged,” muttered
+Paul to himself, for he felt all the severity of his condemnation,
+though he knew that the point of law was against him.
+
+“There 's a rule in this establishment, Mr. Dempsey,” said Mr. Dunlop,
+with all the gravity of a judge delivering a charge,--“a rule devised
+to protect the purity, the innocence,”--here the ladies held down their
+heads,--“the beauty--”
+
+“Yes, sir, and I will add, the helplessness of that sex--”
+
+“Paul 's right, by Jove!” hiccuped Jack Leonard, whose faculties, far
+immersed in the effects of strong whiskey-and-water, suddenly flashed
+out into momentary intelligence,--“I say he's right! Who says the
+reverse?”
+
+“Oh, Captain Leonard! oh dear, Mr. Dunlop!” screamed three or four
+female voices in concert, “don't let it proceed further.”
+
+A faint and an anxious group were gathered around the little gentleman,
+whose warlike indications grew stronger as pacific entreaties increased.
+
+“He shall explain his words,” said he, with a cautious glance to see
+that his observation was not overheard; then, seeing that his adversary
+had relapsed into oblivion, he added, “he shall withdraw them;” and
+finally, emboldened by success, he vociferated, “or' he shall eat them.
+I 'll teach him,” said the now triumphant victor, “that it is not in
+Mark Dunlop's presence ladies are to be insulted with impunity. Let the
+attempt be made by whom it will,--he may be a lieutenant on half pay or
+on full pay!--I tell him, I don't care a rush.”
+
+“Of course not!” “Why would you?” and so on, were uttered in ready
+chorus around him; and he resumed,--
+
+“And as for this Gwynne, or Quin, who lives up at 'The Corvy' yonder,
+for all the airs he gives himself, and his fine ladies too, my simple
+belief is he 's a Government spy!”
+
+“Is that your opinion, sir?” said a deep and almost solemn voice; and at
+the same instant Miss Daly appeared at the open window. She leaned her
+arm on the sill, and calmly stared at the now terrified speaker, while
+she repeated the words, “Is that your opinion, sir?”
+
+Before the surprise her words had excited subsided, she stood at the
+door of the apartment. She was dressed in her riding-habit, for she had
+that moment returned from an excursion along the coast.
+
+“Mr. Dunlop,” said the lady, advancing towards him, “I never play the
+eavesdropper; but you spoke so loud, doubtless purposely, that nothing
+short of deafness could escape hearing you. You were pleased to express
+a belief respecting the position of a gentleman with whom I have the
+honor to claim some friendship.”
+
+“I always hold myself ready, madam, to render an account to any
+individual of whom I express an opinion,--to himself, personally, I
+mean.”
+
+“Of course you do, sir. It is a very laudable habit,” said she, dryly;
+“but in this case--don't interrupt me--in the present case it cannot
+apply, because the person traduced is absent. Yes, sir, I said
+traduced.”
+
+“Oh, madam, I must say the word would better suit one more able to
+sustain it. I shall take the liberty to withdraw.” And so saying, he
+moved towards the door; but Miss Daly interposed, and, by a gesture
+of her hand, in which she held a formidable horsewhip, gave a very
+unmistakable sign that the passage was not free.
+
+“You 'll not go yet, sir. I have not done with you,” said she, in a
+voice every accent of which vibrated in the little man's heart.
+“You affect to regret, sir, that I am not of the sex that exacts
+satisfaction, as it is called; but I tell you, I come of a family that
+never gave long scores to a debt of honor. You have presumed--in a
+company, certainly, where the hazard of contradiction was small--to
+asperse a gentleman of whom you know nothing,--not one single fact,--not
+one iota of his life, character, or fortune. You have dared to call him
+by words every letter of which would have left a welt on your shoulders
+if uttered in his hearing. Now, as I am certain he would pay any little
+debts I might have perchance forgotten in leaving a place where I had
+resided, so will I do likewise by him; and here, on this spot, and in
+this fair company, I call upon you to unsay your falsehood, or--” Here
+she made one step forward, with an air and gesture that made Mr. Dunlop
+retire with a most comic alacrity. “Don't be afraid, sir,” continued
+she, laughing. “My brother, Mr. Bagenal Daly, will arrive here soon. He
+'s no new name to your ears. In any case, I promise you that whatever
+you find objectionable in my proceedings towards you he will be most
+happy to sustain. Now, sir, the hand wants four minutes to six. If the
+hour strike before you call yourself a wanton, gratuitous calumniator, I
+'ll flog you round the room.”
+
+A cry of horror burst from the female portion of the assembly at a
+threat the utterance of which was really not less terrific than the
+meaning.
+
+“Such a spectacle,” continued Miss Daly, sarcastically, “I should
+scruple to inflict on this fair company; but the taste that could find
+pleasure in witless, pointless slander may not, it is possible, dislike
+to see a little castigation. Now, sir, you have just one minute and a
+quarter.”
+
+“I protest against this conduct, madam. I here declare--”
+
+[Illustration: 146]
+
+“Declare nothing, sir, till you have avowed yourself by your real name
+and character. If you cannot restrain your tongue, I 'll very soon
+convince you that its consequences are far from agreeable. Is what you
+have spoken false?”
+
+“There may come a heavy reckoning for all this, madam,” said Dunlop,
+trembling between fear and passion.
+
+“I ask you again, and for the last time, are your words untrue? Very
+well, sir. You held a commission in Germany, they say; and probably,
+as a military man, you may think it undignified to surrender, except on
+compulsion.”
+
+With these words Miss Daly advanced towards him with a firm and
+determined air, while a cry of horror arose through the room, and the
+fairer portion intrepidly threw themselves in front of their champion,
+while Dempsey and the others only restrained their laughter for fear of
+personal consequences. Pushing fiercely on, Miss Daly was almost at his
+side, when the door of the room was opened, and a deep and well-known
+voice called out to her,--
+
+“Maria, what the devil is all this?”
+
+“Oh, Bagenal,” cried she, as she held out her hand, “I scarcely expected
+you before eight o'clock.”
+
+“But in the name of everything ridiculous, what has happened? Were you
+about to horsewhip this pleasant company?”
+
+“Only one of its members,” said Miss Daly, coolly,--“a little gentleman
+who has thought proper to be more lavish of his calumny than his
+courage. I hand him over to you now; and, faith, though I don't think
+that he had any fancy for me, he 'll gain by the exchange! You 'll find
+him yonder,” said she, pointing to a corner where already the majority
+of the party were gathered together.
+
+Miss Daly was mistaken, however, for Mr. Dunlop had made his escape
+during the brief interchange of greetings between the brother and
+sister. “Come, Bagenal,” said she, smiling, “it's all for the best. I
+have given him a lesson he 'll not readily forget,--had you been the
+teacher, he might not have lived to remember it.”
+
+“What a place for _you!_” said Bagenal, as he threw his eye
+superciliously around the apartment and its occupants; then taking her
+arm within his own, he led her forth, and closed the door after them.
+
+Once more alone, Daly learned with surprise, not unmixed with sorrow,
+that his sister had never seen the Darcys, and save by a single call,
+when she left her name, had made no advances towards their acquaintance.
+She showed a degree of repugnance, too, to allude to the subject, and
+rather endeavored to dismiss it by saying shortly,--“Lady Eleanor is a
+fine lady, and her daughter a wit What could there be in common between
+us?”
+
+“But for Darcy's sake?”
+
+“For _his_ sake I stayed away,” rejoined she, hastily; “they would
+have thought me a bore, and perhaps have told him as much. In a word,
+Bagenal, I did n't like it, and that's enough. Neither of us were
+trained to put much constraint on our inclinations. I doubt if the
+lesson would be easily learned at our present time of life.”
+
+Daly muttered some half-intelligible bitterness about female obstinacy
+and wrong-headedness, and walked slowly to and fro. “I must see Maurice
+at once,” said he, at length.
+
+“That will be no easy task; he left this for Dublin on Tuesday last.”
+
+“And has not returned? When does he come back?”
+
+“His old butler, who brought me the news, says not for some weeks.”
+
+“Confusion and misery!” exclaimed Daly, “was there ever anything so
+ill-timed! And he's in Dublin?”
+
+“He went thither, but there would seem some mystery about his ultimate
+destination; the old man binted at London.”
+
+“London!” said he, with a heavy sigh. “It's now the 18th, and on
+Saturday she sails.”
+
+“Who sails?” asked Miss Daly, with more of eagerness than she yet
+exhibited.
+
+“Oh, I forgot, Molly, I had n't told you, I 'm about to take a
+voyage,--not a very long one, but still distant enough to make me wish
+to say good-bye ere we separate. If God wills it, I shall be back early
+in the spring.”
+
+“What new freak is this, Bagenal?” said she, almost sternly; “I thought
+that time and the world's crosses might have taught you to care for
+quietness, if not for home.”
+
+“Home!” repeated he, in an accent the sorrow of which sank into her very
+heart; “when had I ever a home? I had a house and lands, and equipages,
+horses, and liveried servants,--all that wealth could command, or, my
+own reckless vanity could prompt,--but these did not make a home!”
+
+“You often promised we should have such one day, Bagenal,” said she,
+tenderly, while she stole her hand within his; “you often told me that
+the time would come when we should enjoy poverty with a better grace
+than ever we dispensed riches.”
+
+“We surely are poor enough to make the trial now,” said he, with a
+bitterness of almost savage energy.
+
+“And if we are, Bagenal,” replied she, “there is the more need to draw
+more closely to each other; let us begin at once.”
+
+“Not yet, Molly, not yet,” said he, passing his hand across his eyes. “I
+would grasp such a refuge as eagerly as yourself, for,” added he, with
+deep emotion, “I am to the full as weary; but I cannot do it yet.”
+
+Miss Daly knew her brother's temper too long and too well either to
+offer a continued opposition to any strongly expressed resolve, or to
+question him about a subject on which he showed any desire of reserve.
+
+“Have you no Dublin news for me?” she said, as if willing to suggest
+some less touching subject for conversation.
+
+“No, Molly; Dublin is deserted. The few who still linger in town seem
+only half awake to the new condition of events. The Government party are
+away to England; they feel, doubtless, bound in honor to dispense
+their gold in the land it came from; and the Patriots--Heaven bless the
+mark!--they look as rueful as if they began to suspect that Patriotism
+was too dear a luxury after all.”
+
+“And this burning of Newgate,-what did it mean? Was there, as the
+newspaper makes out, anything like a political plot connected with it?”
+
+“Nothing of the kind, Molly. The whole affair was contrived among the
+prisoners. Freney, the well-known highwayman, was in the jail, and,
+although not tried, his conviction was certain.”
+
+“And they say he has escaped. Can it be possible that some persons of
+influence, as the journals hint, actually interested themselves for the
+escape of a man like this?”
+
+“Everything is possible in a state of society like ours, Molly.”
+
+“But a highwayman--a robber--a fellow that made the roads unsafe to
+travel!”
+
+“All true,” said Daly, laughing. “Nobody ever kept a hawk for a
+singing-bird; but he 's a bold villain to pounce upon another.”
+
+“I like not such appliances; they scarcely serve a good name, and they
+make a bad one worse.”
+
+“I'm quite of your mind, Molly,” said Daly, thoughtfully; “and if honest
+men were plenty, he would be but a fool who held any dealings with the
+knaves. But here comes the car to convey me to 'The Corvy.' I will make
+a hasty visit to Lady Eleanor, and be back with you by supper-time.”
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER X. DALY'S FAREWELL.
+
+Neither of the ladies were at home when Bagenal Daly, followed by his
+servant Sandy, reached “The Corvy,” and sat down in the porch to await
+their return. Busied with his own reflections, which, to judge from the
+deep abstraction of his manner, seemed weighty and important, Daly
+never looked up from the ground, while Sandy leisurely walked round the
+building to note the changes made in his absence, and comment, in no
+flattering sense, on the art by which the builder had concealed so many
+traits of “The Corvy's” origin.
+
+“Ye 'd no ken she was a ship ava!” said he to himself, as he examined
+the walls over which the trellised creepers were trained, and the
+latticed windows festooned by the honeysuckle and the clematis, and
+gazed in sadness over the altered building. “She's no a bit like the
+auld Corvy!”
+
+“Of course she 's not!” said Daly, testily, for the remark had suddenly
+aroused him from his musings. “What the devil would you have? Are _you_
+like the raw and ragged fellow I took from this bleak coast, and led
+over more than half the world?”
+
+“Troth, I am no the same man noo that I was sax-and-forty years agane,
+and sorry I am to say it.”
+
+“Sorry,--sorry! not to be half-starved and less than half-clad; hauling
+a net one day, and being dragged for yourself the next--sorry!”
+
+“Even sae, sore sorry. Eight-and-sixty may be aye sorry not to be
+twa-and-twenty. I ken nae rise in life can pay off that score. It 's na
+ower pleasant to think on, but I'm no the man I was then. No, nor, for
+that matter, yerself neither.”
+
+Daly was too long accustomed to the familiarity of Sandy's manner to
+feel offended at the remark, though he did not seem by any means to
+relish its application. Without making any reply, he arose and entered
+the hall. On every side were objects reminding him of the past, strange
+and sad commentary on the words of his servant. Sandy appeared to feel
+the force of such allies, and, as he stood near, watched the effect the
+various articles produced on his master's countenance.
+
+“A bonnie rifle she is,” said he, as if interpreting the admiring look
+Daly bestowed upon a richly ornamented gun. “Do you mind the day yer
+honor shot the corbie at the Tegern See?”
+
+“Where the Tyrol fellows set on us, on the road to Innspruck, and I
+brought down the bird to show them that they had to deal with a marksman
+as good at least as themselves.”
+
+“Just sae; it was a bra' shot; your hand was as firm, and your eye as
+steady then as any man's.”
+
+“I could do the feat this minute,” said Daly, angrily, as turning away
+he detached a heavy broadsword from the wall.
+
+“She was aye over weighty in the hilt,” said Sandy, with a dry malice.
+
+“You used to draw that bowstring to your ear,” said Daly, sternly, as he
+pointed to a Swiss bow of portentous size.
+
+“I had twa hands in those days,” said the other, calmly, and without the
+slightest change of either voice or manner.
+
+Not so with him to whom they were addressed. A flood of feelings seemed
+to pour across his memory, and, laying his hand on Sandy's shoulder,
+he said, in an accent of very unusual emotion, “You are right, Sandy, I
+must be changed from what I used to be.”
+
+“Let us awa to the auld life we led in those days,” said the other,
+impetuously, “and we 'll soon be ourselves again! Does n't that remind
+yer honor of the dark night on the Ottawa, when you sent the canoe, with
+the pine-torch burning in her bow, down the stream, and drew all the
+fire of the Indian fellows on her?”
+
+“It was a grand sight,” cried Daly, rapturously, “to see the dark river
+glittering with its torchlight, and the chiefs, as they stood rifle in
+hand, peering into the dense pine copse, and making the echoes ring with
+their war-cries.”
+
+“It was unco near at one time,” said Sandy, as he took up the fold of
+the blanket with which his effigy in the canoe was costumed. “There 's
+the twa bullet-holes, and here the arrow-bead in the plank, where I had
+my bead! If ye had missed the Delaware chap wi' the yellow cloth on his
+forehead--”
+
+“I soon changed its color for him,” said Daly, savagely.
+
+“Troth did ye; ye gied him a bonny war-paint. How he sprang into the
+air! I think I see him noo; many a night when I 'm lying awake, I think
+I can hear the dreadful screech he gave, as he plunged into the river.”
+
+“It was not a cry of pain, it was baffled vengeance,” said Daly.
+
+“He never forgave the day ye gripped him by the twa hands in yer ain
+one, and made the squaws laugh at him. Eh, how that auld deevil they
+cau'd Black Buffalo yelled! Her greasy cheeks shook and swelled over her
+dark eyes, till the face looked like nothing but a tar lake in Demerara
+when there 's a hurricane blowin' over it.”
+
+“You had rather a tenderness in that quarter, if I remember aright,”
+ said Daly, dryly.
+
+“I 'll no deny she was a bra sauncie woman, and kenned weel to make a
+haggis wi' an ape's head and shoulders.” Sandy smacked his lips, as if
+the thought had brought up pleasant memories.
+
+“How I escaped that bullet is more than I can guess,” said Daly, as he
+inspected the blanket where it was pierced by a shot; and as he spoke,
+he threw its wide folds over his shoulders, the better to judge of the
+position.
+
+“Ye aye wore it more on this side,” said Sandy, arranging the folds with
+tasteful pride; “an', troth, it becomes you well. Tak the bit tomahawk
+in your hand, noo. Ech! but yer like yoursel once more.”
+
+“We may have to don this gear again, and sooner than you think,” said
+Daly, thoughtfully.
+
+“Nae a bit sooner than I 'd like,” said Sandy. “The salvages, as they
+ca' them, hae neither baillies nor policemen, they hae nae cranks about
+lawyers and 'tornies; a grip o' a man's hair and a sharp knife is even
+as mickle a reason as a hempen cord and a gallows tree! Ech, it warms my
+bluid again to see you stridin' up and doon,--if you had but a smudge o'
+yellow ochre, or a bit o' red round your eyes, ye 'd look awful well.”
+
+“What are you staring at?” said Daly, as Sandy opened a door stealthily,
+and gazed down the passage towards the kitchen.
+
+“I 'm thinking that as there is naebody in the house but the twa lasses,
+maybe your honor would try a war-cry,--ye ken ye could do it bra'ly
+once.”
+
+“I may need the craft soon again,” said Daly, thoughtfully.
+
+“Mercy upon us! here 's the leddies!” cried Sandy. But before Daly could
+disencumber himself of his weapons and costume, Helen entered the hall.
+
+[Illustration: 154]
+
+If Lady Eleanor started at the strange apparition before her, and
+involuntarily turned her eye towards the canoe, to see that its occupant
+was still there, it is not much to be wondered at, so strongly did the
+real and the counterfeit man resemble each other. The first surprise
+over, he was welcomed with sincere pleasure. All the eccentricities
+of character which in former days were commented on so sharply were
+forgotten, or their memory replaced by the proofs of his ardent
+devotion.
+
+“How well you are looking!” was his first exclamation, as he gazed at
+Lady Eleanor and Helen alternately, with that steady stare which is one
+of the prerogatives of age towards beauty.
+
+“There is no such tonic as necessity,” said Lady Eleanor, smiling, “and
+it would seem as if health were too jealous to visit us when we have
+every other blessing.”
+
+“It is worth them all, madam. I am an old man, and have seen much of the
+world, and I can safely aver that what are called its trials lie chiefly
+in our weaknesses. We can all of us carry a heavier load than fortune
+lays on us--” He suddenly checked himself, as if having unwittingly
+lapsed into something like rebuke, and then said, “I find you alone; is
+it not so?”
+
+“Yes; Darcy has left us, suddenly and almost mysteriously, without you
+can help us to a clearer insight. A letter from the War Office arrived
+here on Tuesday, acknowledging, in most complimentary terms, the
+fairness of his claim for military employment, and requesting his
+presence in London. This was evidently in reply to an application,
+although the Knight made none such.”
+
+“But he has friends, mamma,--warm-hearted and affectionate ones,-who
+might have done so,” said Helen, as she fixed her gaze steadily on Daly.
+
+“And you, madam, have relatives of high and commanding influence,” said
+he, avoiding to return Helen's glance,--“men of rank and station, who
+might well feel proud of such a _protégé_ as Maurice Darcy. And what
+have they given him?”
+
+“We can tell you nothing; the official letter may explain more to your
+clear-sightedness, and I will fetch it.” So saying, Lady Eleanor arose
+and left the room. Scarcely had the door closed, when Daly stood up,
+and, walking over, leaned his arm on the back of Helen's chair.
+
+“You received my letter, did you not?” said he, hurriedly. “You know the
+result of the trial?”
+
+Helen nodded assent, while a secret emotion covered her face with
+crimson, as Daly resumed,--
+
+“There was ill-luck everywhere: the case badly stated; Lionel absent;
+I myself detained in Dublin, by an unavoidable necessity,--everything
+unfortunate even to the last incident. Had I been there, matters would
+have taken another course. Still, Helen, Forester was right; and, depend
+upon it, there is no scanty store of generous warmth in a heart that can
+throb so strongly beneath the aiguiletted coat of an aide-de-camp. The
+holiday habits of that tinsel life teach few lessons of self-devotion,
+and the poor fellow has paid the penalty heavily.”
+
+“What has happened?” said Helen, in a voice scarcely audible.
+
+“He is disinherited, I hear. All his prospects depended on his mother;
+she has cast him off, and, as the story goes, is about to marry.
+Marriage is always the last vengeance of a widow.”
+
+“Here is the letter,” said Lady Eleanor, entering; “let us hope you can
+read its intentions better than we have.”
+
+“Flattering, certainly,” muttered Daly, as he conned over the lines to
+himself. “It's quite plain they mean to do something generous. I trust I
+may learn it before I sail.”
+
+“Sail! you are not about to travel, are you?” asked Lady Eleanor, in a
+voice that betrayed her dread of being deprived of such support.
+
+“Oh! I forgot I had n't told you. Yes, madam, another of those strange
+riddles which have beset my life compels me to take a long voyage--to
+America.”
+
+“To America!” echoed Helen; and her eye glanced as she spoke to the
+Indian war-cloak and the weapons that lay beside his chair.
+
+“Not so, Helen,” said Daly, smiling, as if replying to the insinuated
+remark; “I am too old for such follies now. Not in heart, indeed, but in
+limb,” added he, sternly; “for I own I could ask nothing better than the
+prairie or the pine-forest. I know of no cruelty in savage life that has
+not its counterpart amid our civilization; and for the rude virtues that
+are nurtured there, they are never warmed into existence by the hotbed
+of selfishness.”
+
+“But why leave your friends,--your sister?”
+
+“My sister!” He paused, and a tinge of red came to his cheek as he
+remembered how she had failed in all attention to the Darcys. “My
+sister, madam, is self-willed and headstrong as myself. She acknowledges
+none of the restraints or influence by which the social world consents
+to be bound and regulated; her path has ever been wild and erratic as
+my own. We sometimes cross, we never contradict, each other.” He paused,
+and then muttered to himself, “Poor Molly! how different I knew you
+once! And so,” added he, aloud, “I must leave without seeing Darcy! and
+there stands Sandy, admonishing me that my time is already up. Good-bye,
+Lady Eleanor; good-bye, Helen.” He turned his head away for a second,
+and then, in a voice of unusual feeling, said: “Farewell is always a sad
+word, and doubly sad when spoken by one old as I am; but if my heart
+is heavy at this moment, it is the selfish sorrow of him who parts from
+those so near. As for you, madam, and your fortunes, I am full of good
+hope. When people talk of suffering virtue, believe me, the element of
+courage must be wanting; but where the stout heart unites with the good
+cause, success will come at last.”
+
+He pressed his lips to the hands he held within his own, and hurried,
+before they could reply, from the room.
+
+“Our last friend gone!” exclaimed Lady Eleanor, as she sank into a
+chair.
+
+Helen's heart was too full for utterance, and she sat down silently,
+and watched the retiring figure of Daly and his servant till they
+disappeared in the distance.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XI. THE DUKE OF YORK'S LEVEE.
+
+When Darcy arrived in London, he found a degree of political excitement
+for which he was little prepared. In Ireland the Union had absorbed
+all interest and anxiety, and with the fate of that measure were
+extinguished the hopes of those who had speculated on national
+independence. Not so in England; the real importance of the annexation
+was never thoroughly considered till the fact was accomplished, nor,
+until then, were the great advantages and the possible evils well and
+maturely weighed. Then, for the first time, came the anxious question,
+What next? Was the Union to be the compensation for large concessions to
+the Irish people, or was it rather the seal of their incorporation
+with a more powerful nation, who by this great stroke of policy would
+annihilate forever all dream of self-existence? Mr. Pitt inclined to the
+former opinion, and believed the moment propitious to award the Roman
+Catholic claims, and to a general remission of those laws which pressed
+so heavily upon them. To this opinion the King was firmly and, as it
+proved, insurmountably opposed; he regarded the Act of Union as
+the final settlement of all possible disagreements between the two
+countries, as the means of uniting the two Churches, and, finally,
+of excluding at once and forever the admission of Roman Catholics to
+Parliament. This wide difference led to the retirement of Mr. Pitt, and
+subsequently to the return of the dangerous indisposition of the King,
+an attack brought on by the anxiety and agitation this question induced.
+
+The hopes of the Whig party stood high; the Prince's friends, as they
+were styled, again rallied around Carlton House, where, already, the
+possibility of a long Regency was discussed. Besides these causes of
+excitement were others of not less powerful interest,--the growing power
+of Bonaparte, the war in Egypt, and the possibility of open hostilities
+with Russia, who had now thrown herself so avowedly into the alliance of
+France.
+
+Such were the stirring themes Darcy found agitating the public mind, and
+he could not help contrasting the mighty interests they involved with
+the narrow circle of consequences a purely local legislature could
+discuss or decide upon. He felt at once that he trod the soil of a more
+powerful and more ambitious people, and he remembered with a sigh his
+own anticipations, that in the English Parliament the Irish members
+would be but the camp-followers of the Crown or the Opposition.
+
+If he was English in his pride of government and his sense of national
+power and greatness, he was Irish in his tastes, his habits, and his
+affections. If he gloried in the name of Briton as the type of national
+honor and truth throughout the globe, he was still more ardently
+attached to that land where, under the reflected grandeur of the
+monarchy, grew up the social affections of a poorer people. There is
+a sense of freedom and independence in the habits of semi-civilization
+very fascinating to certain minds, and all the advantages of more
+polished communities are deemed shallow compensation for the ready
+compliance and cordial impulses of the less cultivated.
+
+With all his own high acquirements the Knight was of this mind; and if
+he did not love England less, he loved Ireland more.
+
+Meditating on the great changes of fortune Ireland had undergone even
+within his own memory, he moved along through the crowded thoroughfares
+of the mighty city, when he heard his name called out, and at the same
+instant a carriage drew up close by him.
+
+“How do you do, Knight?” said a friendly voice, as a hand was stretched
+forth to greet him. It was Lord Castle-reagh, who had only a few weeks
+previous exchanged his office of Irish Secretary for a post at the Board
+of Trade. The meeting was a cordial one on both sides, and ended in
+an invitation to dine on the following day, which Darcy accepted with
+willingness, as a gage of mutual good feeling and esteem.
+
+“I was talking about you to Lord Netherby only yesterday,” said Lord
+Castlereagh, “and, from some hints he dropped, I suspect the time is
+come that I may offer you any little influence I possess, without it
+taking the odious shape of a bargain; if so, pray remember that I have
+as much pride as yourself on such a score, and will be offended if you
+accept from another what might come equally well through _me_.”
+
+The Knight acknowledged this kind speech with a grateful smile and a
+pressure of the hand, and was about to move on, when Lord Castlereagh
+asked if he could not drop him in his carriage at his destination, and
+thus enjoy, a few moments longer, his society.
+
+“I scarcely can tell you, my Lord,” said Darcy, laughing, “which way I
+was bent on following. I came up to town to present myself at the Duke
+of York's levée, and it is only a few moments since I remembered that I
+was not provided with a uniform.”
+
+“Oh, step in then,” cried Lord Castlereagh, hastily; “I think I can
+manage that difficulty for you. There is a levée this very morning; some
+pressing intelligence has arrived from Egypt, and his Royal Highness has
+issued a notice for a reception for eleven o'clock. You are not
+afraid,” said Lord Castlereagh, laughing, as Darcy took his seat beside
+him,--“you are not afraid of being seen in such company now.”
+
+“If I am not, my Lord, set my courage down to my principle; for I never
+felt your kindness so dangerous,” said the Knight, with something of
+emotion.
+
+A few moments of rapid driving brought them in front of the Duke's
+residence, where several carriages and led horses were now standing, and
+officers in full dress were seen to pass in and out, with signs of haste
+and eagerness.
+
+“I told you we should find them astir here,” said Lord Castlereagh.
+“Holloa, Fane, have you heard anything new to-day?”
+
+The officer thus addressed touched his hat respectfully, and approaching
+the window of the carriage, whispered a few words in Lord Castlereagh's
+ear.
+
+“Is the news confirmed?” said his Lordship, calmly.
+
+“I believe so, my Lord; at least, Edgecumbe says he heard it from
+Dundas, who got it from Pitt himself.”
+
+“Bad tidings these, Knight,” said Lord Castlereagh, as the aide-de-camp
+moved away; “Pulteney's expedition against Ferrol has failed. These
+conjoint movements of army and navy seem to have a most unlucky
+fortune.”
+
+“What can you expect, my Lord, from an ill-assorted 'Union'?” said
+Darcy, slyly.
+
+“They 'll work better after a time,” said Lord Castlereagh, smiling
+good-humoredly at the hit; “for the present, I acknowledge the success
+is not flattering. The general always discovers that the land batteries
+can only be attacked in the very spot where the admiral pronounces the
+anchorage impossible; each feels compromised by the other; hence envy
+and every manner of uncharitableness.”
+
+“And what has been the result here? Is it a repulse?”
+
+“You can scarcely call it that, since they never attacked. They looked
+at the place, sailed round it, and, like the King of France in the
+story, they marched away again. But here we are at length at the door;
+let us try if we cannot accomplish a landing better than Lord Keith and
+General Moore.”
+
+Through a crowd of anxious faces, whose troubled looks tallied with the
+evil tidings, Lord Castlereagh and Darcy ascended the stairs and reached
+the antechamber, now densely thronged by officers of every grade of the
+service. His Lordship was immediately recognized and surrounded by many
+of the company, eager to hear his opinion.
+
+“You don't appear to credit the report, my Lord,” said Darcy, who
+had watched with some interest the air of quiet incredulity which he
+assumed.
+
+“It is all true, notwithstanding,” said he, in a whisper; “I heard it
+early this morning at the Council, and came here to see how it would be
+received. They say that war will be soon as unpopular with the red-coats
+as with the no-coats; and really, to look at these sombre faces, one
+would say there was some truth in the rumor. But here comes Taylor.” And
+so saying, Lord Castlereagh moved forward, and laid his hand on the arm
+of an officer in a staff uniform.
+
+“I don't think so, my Lord,” said he, in reply to some question from
+Lord Castlereagh; “I 'll endeavor to manage it, but I 'm afraid I
+shall not succeed. Have you heard of Elliot's death? The news has just
+arrived.”
+
+“Indeed! So then the government of Chelsea is to give away. Oh, that
+fact explains the presence of so many veteran generals! I really was
+puzzled to conceive what martial ardor stirred them.”
+
+“You are severe, my Lord,” said Darcy; “I hope you are unjust.”
+
+“One is rarely so in attributing a selfish motive anywhere,” said the
+young nobleman, sarcastically. “But, Taylor, can't you arrange
+this affair? Let me present my friend meanwhile: The Knight of
+Gwynne--Colonel Taylor.”
+
+Before Taylor could more than return the Knight's salutation he was
+summoned to attend his Royal Highness; and at the same moment the
+folding-doors at the end of the apartment were thrown open, and the
+reception began.
+
+Whether the sarcasm of Lord Castlereagh was correct, or that a nobler
+motive was in operation, the number of officers was very great; and
+although the Duke rarely addressed more than a word or two to each,
+a considerable time elapsed before Lord Castlereagh, with the Knight
+following, had entered the room.
+
+“It is against a positive order of his Royal Highness, my Lord,” said an
+aide-de-camp, barring the passage; “none but field-officers, and in full
+uniform, are received by his Royal Highness.”
+
+Lord Castlereagh whispered something, and endeavored to move on; but
+again the other interposed, saying, “Indeed, my Lord, I'm deeply grieved
+at it, but I cannot--I dare not transgress my orders.”
+
+The Duke, who had been up to this moment engaged in conversing with a
+group, suddenly turned, and perceiving that the presentations were not
+followed up, said, “Well, gentlemen, I am waiting.” Then recognizing
+Lord Castlereagh, he added, “Another time, my Lord, another time:
+this morning belongs to the service, and the color of your coat excludes
+you.”
+
+“I ask your Royal Highness's pardon,” said Lord Castlereagh, in a tone
+of great deference, while he made the apology an excuse for advancing a
+step into the room. “I have but just left the Council, and was anxious
+to inform you that your Royal Highness's suggestions have been fully
+adopted.”
+
+“Indeed! is that the case?” said the Duke, with an elated look, while
+he drew his Lordship into the recess of a window. The intelligence,
+to judge from the Duke's expression, must have been both important and
+satisfactory, for he looked intensely eager and pleased by turns.
+
+“And so,” said he, aloud, “they really have determined on Egypt? Well,
+my Lord, you have brought me the best tidings I 've heard for many a
+day.”
+
+“And like all bearers of good despatches,” said Lord Castlereagh,
+catching up the tone of the Duke, “I prefer a claim to your Royal
+Highness's patronage.”
+
+“If you look for Chelsea, my Lord, you are just five minutes too late.
+Old Sir Harry Belmore has this instant got it.”
+
+“I could have named as old and perhaps a not less distinguished soldier
+to your Royal Highness, with this additional claim,--a claim I must say,
+your Royal Highness never disregards”--
+
+“That he has been unfortunate with the unlucky,” said the Duke,
+laughing, and good-naturedly alluding to his own failure in the
+expedition to the Netherlands; “but who is your friend?”
+
+“The Knight of Gwynne,--an Irish gentleman.”
+
+“One of your late supporters, eh, Castlereagh?” said the Duke, laughing.
+“How came he to be forgotten till this hour? Or did you pass him a bill
+of gratitude payable at nine months after date?”
+
+“No, my Lord, he was an opponent; he was a man that I never could buy,
+when his influence and power were such as to make the price of his own
+dictating. Since that day, fortune has changed with him.”
+
+“And what do you want with him now?” said the Duke, while his eyes
+twinkled with a sly malice; “are you imitating the man that bowed down
+before statues of Hercules and Apollo at Rome, not knowing when the time
+of those fellows might come up again? Is that your game?”
+
+“Not exactly, your Royal Highness; but I really feel some scruples of
+conscience that, having assisted so many unworthy candidates to pensions
+and peerages, I should have done nothing for the most upright man I met
+in Ireland.”
+
+“If we could make him a Commissary-General,” said the Duke, laughing,
+“the qualities you speak of would be of service now: there never was
+such a set of rascals as we have got in that department! But come, what
+can we do with him? What 's his rank in the army? Where did he serve?”
+
+“If I dare present him to your Royal Highness without a uniform,” said
+Lord Castlereagh, hesitatingly, “he could answer these queries better
+than I can.”
+
+“Oh, by Jove! it is too late for scruples now,--introduce him at once.”
+
+Lord Castlereagh waited for no more formal permission, but, hastening to
+the antechamber, took Darcy's hand, and led him forward.
+
+“If I don't mistake, sir,” said the Duke, as the old man raised his head
+after a deep and courteous salutation, “this is not the first time we
+have met. Am I correct in calling you Colonel Darcy?”
+
+The Knight bowed low in acquiescence.
+
+“The same officer who raised the Twenty-eighth Light Dragoons, known as
+Darcy's Light Horse?”
+
+The Knight bowed once more.
+
+“A very proud officer in command,” said the Duke, turning to Lord
+Castlereagh with a stern expression on his features; “a colonel who
+threatened a prince of the blood with arrest for breach of duty.”
+
+“He had good reason, your Royal Highness, to be proud,” said the Knight,
+firmly; “first, to have a prince to serve under his command; and,
+secondly, to have held that station and character in the service to have
+rendered so unbecoming a threat pardonable.”
+
+“And who said it was?” replied the Duke, hastily.
+
+“Your Royal Highness has just done so.”
+
+“How do you mean?”
+
+“I mean, my Lord Duke,” said Darcy, with a calm and unmoved look,
+“that your Royal Highness would never have recurred to the theme to one
+humbled as I am, if you had not forgiven it.”
+
+“As freely as I trust you forgive me, Colonel Darcy,” said the Duke,
+grasping his hand and shaking it with warmth. “Now for _my_ part: what
+can I do for you?--what do you wish?”
+
+“I can scarcely ask your Royal Highness; I find that some kind friend
+has already applied on my behalf. I could not have presumed, old and
+useless as I am, to prefer a claim myself.”
+
+“There's your own regiment vacant,” said the Duke, musing. “No, by
+Jove! I remember Lord Netherby asking me for it the other day for some
+relative of his own. Taylor, is the colonelcy of the Twenty-eighth
+promised?”
+
+“Your Royal Highness signed it yesterday.”
+
+“I feared as much. Who is it?--perhaps he'd exchange.”
+
+“Colonel Maurice Darcy, your Royal Highness, unattached.”
+
+“What! have I been doing good by stealth? Is this really so?”
+
+“If it be, your Royal Highness,” said Darcy, smiling, “I can only assure
+you that the officer promoted will not exchange.”
+
+“The depot is at Gosport, your Royal Highness,” said Taylor, in reply to
+a question from the Duke.
+
+“Well, station it in Ireland, Colonel Darcy may prefer it,” said the
+duke; “for, as the regiment forms part of the expedition to Egypt, the
+depot need not be moved for some time to come.”
+
+“Your Royal Highness can increase the favor by only one concession--dare
+I ask it?--to permit me to take the command on service.”
+
+The Duke gazed with astonishment at the old man, and gradually his
+expression became one of deep interest, as he said,--
+
+“Colonel Darcy could claim as a right what I feel so proud to accord
+him as a favor. Make a note of that, Taylor,” said the Duke, raising his
+voice so as to be heard through the room: “'Colonel Darcy to take the
+command on service at his own special request.' Yes, gentlemen,” added
+he, louder, “these are times when the exigencies of the service demand
+alike the energy of youth and the experience of age; it is, indeed,
+a happy conjuncture that finds them united. My Lord Castlereagh and
+Colonel Darcy, are you disengaged for Wednesday?”
+
+They both bowed respectfully.
+
+“Then on Wednesday I'll have some of your brother officers to meet you,
+Colonel. Now, Taylor, let us get through our list.”
+
+So saying, the Duke bowed graciously; and Lord Castlereagh and the
+Knight retired, each too full of pleasure to utter a word as he went.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XII. THE TWO SIDES OF A MEDAL
+
+Although the Knight lost not an hour in writing to Lady Eleanor,
+informing her of his appointment, the letter, hastily written, and
+intrusted to a waiter to be posted, was never forwarded, and the first
+intelligence of the event reached her in a letter from her courtly
+relative, Lord Netherby.
+
+So much depends upon the peculiar tact and skill of the writer, and
+so much upon our own frame of mind at the time of reading, that it is
+difficult to say whether we do not bear up better under the announcement
+of any sudden and sorrowful event from the hand of one less cared for
+than from those nearest and dearest to our hearts. The consolations that
+look like the special pleadings of affection become, as it were,
+the mere expressions of impartiality. The points of view, being so
+different, give a different aspect to the picture, and gleams of light
+fall where, seen from another quarter, all was shadow and gloom. So
+it was here. What, if the tidings had come from her husband, had been
+regarded in the one painful light of separation and long absence,
+assumed, under Lord Netherby's style, the semblance of a most gratifying
+event, with, of course, that alloy of discomfort from which no human
+felicity is altogether free: so very artfully was this done, that Lady
+Eleanor half felt as if, in indulging in her own sorrow, she were merely
+giving way to a selfish regret; and as Helen, the better to sustain her
+mother's courage, affected a degree of pleasure she was really far from
+feeling, this added to the conviction that she ought, if she could, to
+regard her husband's appointment as a happy event.
+
+“Truly, mamma,” said Helen, as she sat with the letter before her, “Me
+style c'est l'homme.' His Lordship is quite heroic when describing all
+the fêtes and dinners of London; all the honors showered on papa in
+visiting-cards and invitations; how excellencies called, and royal
+highnesses shook hands: he even chronicles the distinguishing favor of
+the gracious Prince, who took wine with him. But listen to him when the
+theme is really one that might evoke some trait, if not of enthusiasm,
+at least of national pride: 'As for the expedition, my dear cousin,
+though nobody knows exactly for what place it is destined, everybody is
+aware that it is not intended to be a fighting one. Demonstrations are
+now the vogue, and it is become just as bad taste for our army to
+shed blood as it would be for a well-bred man to mention a certain
+ill-conducted individual before ears polite. Modern war is like a game
+at whist between first-rate players; when either party has four by
+honors, he shows his hand, and saves the trouble of a contest. The
+Naval Service is, I grieve to say, rooted to its ancient prejudices, and
+continues its abominable pastime of broadsides and boardings; hence its
+mob popularity at this moment! The army will, however, always be the
+gentlemanlike cloth, and I thank my stars I don't believe we have a
+single relative afloat. Guy Herries was the last; he was shot or piked,
+I forget which, in boarding a Spanish galliot off Cape Verde. “Que
+diable allait-il faire dans cette galère?” Rest satisfied, therefore,
+if the gallant Knight has little glory, he will have no dangers; our
+expeditions never land. Jekyll says they are only intended to give the
+service an appetite for fresh meat and soft bread, after four months'
+biscuit and salt beef. At all events, my dear cousin, reckon on
+seeing my friend the Knight gazetted as major-general on the very next
+promotions. The Prince is delighted with him; and I carried a message
+from his Royal Highness yesterday to the War Office in his behalf. You
+would not come to see me, despite all the seductions I threw out, and
+now the season is nigh over. May I hope better things for the next year,
+when perhaps I can promise an inducement the more, and make your welcome
+more graceful by dividing its cares with one far more competent than
+myself to fulfil them.'--What does he mean, mamma?”
+
+“Read on, my dear; I believe I can guess the riddle.”
+
+“'The person I allude to was, in former days, if not actually a friend,
+a favored intimate of yours; indeed, I say that this fact is but another
+claim to my regard.'--Is it possible, mamma, his Lordship thinks of
+marrying?”
+
+“Even so, Helen,” said Lady Eleanor, sighing, for she remembered how,
+in his very last interview with her at Gwynne Abbey, he spoke of his
+resolve on making Lionel his heir; but then, those were the days of
+their prosperous fortune, the time when, to all seeming, they needed no
+increase of wealth.
+
+If Helen was disposed to laugh at the notion of Lord Netherby's
+marrying, a glance at the troubled expression of her mother's features
+would have checked the emotion. The heritage was a last hope, which was
+not the less cherished that she had never imparted it to another.
+
+“Shall I read on?” said Helen, timidly; and at a signal from Lady
+Eleanor she resumed: “'I know how much “badinage” a man at my time
+of life must expect from his acquaintances, and how much of kind
+remonstrance from his friends, when he announces his determination to
+marry. A good deal of this must be set down to the score of envy, some
+of it proceeds from mere habit on these occasions, and lastly, one's
+bachelor friends very naturally are averse to the closure against them
+of a house “où on dîne.” I have thought of all this, and, _per contra_,
+I have set down the isolation of one, if not deserted, at least somewhat
+neglected by his relatives, and fancied that if not exactly of that age
+when people marry for love, I am not yet quite so old but I may become
+the object of true and disinterested affection.
+
+“'Lady------(I have pledged my honor not to write her name, even to
+you) is, in rank and fortune, fully my equal, in every other quality my
+superior. The idlers at “Boodle's” can neither sneer at a “mésalliance,”
+ nor hint at the “faiblesse” of an “elderly gentleman.” It is a marriage
+founded on mutual esteem, and, so far as station is concerned, on
+equality; and when I say that his Royal Highness has expressed his
+unqualified approval of the step, I believe I can add no more. I owe
+you, my dear cousin, this early and full explanation of my motives
+on many accounts: if the result should change the dispositions I once
+believed unalterable, I beg it may be understood as proceeding far more
+from necessity than the sincere wish of your very affectionate relative,
+
+“'Netherby.
+
+“'My regret at not seeing Helen here this season is, in a measure,
+alleviated by Lady--------- telling me that brunettes were more the
+rage; her Ladyship, who is no common arbiter, says that no “blonde”
+ attracted any notice: even Lady Georgiana Maydew drew no admiration.
+My fair cousin is, happily, very young, _et les beaux jours viendront_,
+even before hers have lost their brilliancy.
+
+“'I am sorry Lionel left the Coldstreams; with economy he could very
+well have managed to hold his ground, and we might have obtained
+something for him in the Household. As for India, the only influential
+person I know is my wine-merchant; he is, I am told, a Director of
+the Honorable Company, but he 'd certainly adulterate my Madeira if I
+condescended to ask him a favor.'”
+
+“Well, Helen, I think you will agree with me, selfishness is the
+most candid of all the vices; how delightfully unembarrassed is his
+Lordship's style, how frank, honest, and straightforward!”
+
+“After his verdict upon 'blondes', mamma,” said Helen, laughing, “I dare
+not record my opinion of him,--I cannot come into court an impartial
+evidence. This, however, I will say, that if his Lordship be not an
+unhappy instance of the school, I am sincerely rejoiced that Lionel is
+not being trained up a courtier; better a soldier's life with all its
+hazards and its dangers, than a career so certain to kill every manly
+sentiment.”
+
+“I agree with you fully, Helen; life cannot be circumscribed within
+petty limits and occupied by petty cares without reducing the mind to
+the same miniature dimensions; until at last so immeasurably greater are
+our own passions and feelings than the miserable interests around us, we
+end by self-worship and egotism, and fancy ourselves leviathans because
+we swim in a fish-pond. But who can that be crossing the grass-plot
+yonder? I thought our neighbors of Port Ballintray had all left the
+coast?”
+
+“It is the gentleman who dined here, mamma, the man that never spoke--I
+forget his name--”
+
+Helen had not time to finish, when a modest tap was heard at the door,
+and the next moment Mr. Leonard presented himself. He was dressed with
+more than his wonted care, but the effort to make poverty respectable
+was everywhere apparent; the blue frock was brushed to the very verge
+of its frail existence, the gloves were drawn on at the hazard of their
+integrity, and his hat, long inured to every vicissitude of weather,
+had been cocked into a strange counterfeit of modish smartness. With all
+these signs of unusual attention to appearances, his manner was modest
+even to humility, and he took a chair with the diffidence of one who
+seemed to doubt the propriety of being seated in such a presence.
+
+Notwithstanding Lady Eleanor's efforts at conversation, aided by Helen,
+who tried in many ways to relieve the embarrassment of their visitor,
+this difficulty seemed every moment greater, and he seemed, as he really
+felt, to have summoned up all his courage for an undertaking, and in
+the very nick of the enterprise, to have left himself beggared of his
+energy. A vague assent, a look of doubt and uncertainty, a half-muttered
+expression of acquiescence in whatever was said, was all that could
+be obtained from him; but still, while his embarrassment appeared each
+instant greater, he evinced no disposition to take his leave. Lady
+Eleanor, who, like many persons whose ordinary manner is deemed cold and
+haughty, could exert at will considerable powers of pleasing, did her
+utmost to put her visitor at his ease, and by changing her topics from
+time to time, detect, if possible, some clew to his coming. It was all
+in vain: he followed her, it is true, as well as he was able, and with a
+bewildered look of constrained attention, seemed endeavoring to interest
+himself in what she said, but it was perfectly apparent, all the while,
+that his mind was preoccupied, and by very different thoughts.
+
+At length she remained silent, and resuming the work she was engaged
+on when he entered, sat for some time without uttering a word, or even
+looking up. Mr. Leonard coughed slightly, but, as if terrified at his
+own rashness, soon became mute and still. At last, after a long pause,
+so long that Lady Eleanor and Helen, forgetful of their visitor, had
+become deeply immersed in their own reflections, Mr. Leonard arose
+slowly, and with a voice not free from a certain tremor, said, “Well,
+madam, then I suppose I may venture to say that I saw you and Miss Darcy
+both well.”
+
+Lady Eleanor looked up with astonishment, for she could not conceive the
+meaning of the words, nor in what quarter they were to be reported.
+
+“I mean, madam,” said Leonard, “that when I present myself to the
+Colonel, I may take the liberty to mention having seen you.”
+
+“Do you speak of my husband, sir,--Colonel Darcy?” said Lady Eleanor,
+with a very different degree of interest in her look and accent.
+
+“Yes, madam,” said Leonard, with a kind of forced courage in his manner.
+“I hope to be under his command in a few days.”
+
+“Indeed, sir!” said Lady Eleanor, with animation; “I did not know that
+you had served, still less that you were about to join the army once
+more.”
+
+Leonard blushed deeply, and he suddenly grew deadly pale, while, in a
+voice scarcely louder than a mere whisper, he muttered, “So then, madam,
+Colonel Darcy has never spoken of me to you?”
+
+Lady Eleanor, who misunderstood the meaning of the question, seemed
+slightly confused as she replied, “I have no recollection of it, sir,--I
+cannot call up at this moment having heard your name from my husband.”
+
+“I ought to have known it,--I ought to have been certain of it,” said
+Leonard, in a voice bursting from emotion, while the tears gushed from
+his eyes; “he could not have asked me to his house to sit down at his
+table as a mere object of your pity and contempt; and yet I am nothing
+else.”
+
+The passionate vehemence in which he now spoke seemed so different from
+his recent manner, that both Lady Eleanor and Helen had some doubts
+as to his sanity, when he quickly resumed: “I was broke for
+cowardice,--dismissed the service with disgrace,--degraded! Well may I
+call it so, to be what I became. I would tell you that I was not
+guilty,--that Colonel Darcy knows,--but I dare not choose between the
+character of a coward and--a drunkard. I had no other prospect before me
+than a life of poverty and repining,--maybe of worse,--of shame and
+ignominy! when, last night, I received these letters; I scarcely thought
+they could be for me, even when I read my name on them. Yes, madam, this
+letter from the War Office permits me to serve as a volunteer with the
+Eighth Regiment of Foot; and this, which is without signature, encloses
+me fifty pounds to buy my outfit and join the regiment. It does not need
+a name; there is but one man living could stoop to help such as I am,
+and not feel dishonored by the contact; there is but one man brave
+enough to protect him branded as a coward.”
+
+“You are right, sir,” cried Helen; “this must be my father's doing.”
+
+Leonard tried to speak, but could not; a trembling motion of his lips,
+and a faint sound issued, but nothing articulate. Lady Eleanor stopped
+him as he moved towards the door, and taking his hand pressed it
+cordially, while she said, “Be of good heart, sir; my husband is not
+less quick to perceive than he is ever ready to befriend. Be assured he
+would not now be your ally if he had not a well-grounded hope that you
+would merit it. Farewell, then; remember you have a double tie to duty,
+and that _his_ credit as well as _your own_ is on the issue.”
+
+Leonard muttered a faint “I will,” and departed.
+
+“How happily timed is this little incident, Helen,” said Lady Eleanor,
+as she drew her daughter to her side; “how full of pleasant hope
+it fills the heart, at a moment when the worldly selfishness of the
+courtier's letter had left us low and sorrow-struck! These are indeed
+the sunny spots in life, that never look so brilliant as when seen amid
+lowering skies and darkening storms.”
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIII. AN UNCEREMONIOUS VISIT
+
+As winter drew near, with its dark and leaden skies, and days and nights
+of storm and hurricane, so did the worldly prospect of Lady Eleanor and
+her daughter grow hourly more gloomy. Bicknell's letters detailed new
+difficulties and embarrassments on every hand. Sums of money supposed to
+have been long since paid and acknowledged by Gleeson, were now demanded
+with all the accruing interest; rights hitherto unquestioned were now
+threatened with dispute, as Hickman O'Reilly's success emboldened others
+to try their fortune. Of the little property that still remained to
+them, the rents were withheld until their claim to them should be once
+more established by law. Disaster followed disaster, till at length the
+last drop filled up the measure of their misery, as they learned that
+the Knight's personal liberty was at stake, and more than one writ was
+issued for his arrest.
+
+The same post that brought this dreadful intelligence brought also a few
+lines from Darcy, the first that had reached them since his departure.
+
+His note was dated from the “'Hermione' frigate, off the Needles,” and
+contained little more than an affectionate farewell. He wrote in health,
+and apparently in spirits, full of the assurance of a speedy and happy
+meeting; nor was there any allusion to their embarrassments, save in
+the vague mention of a letter he had written to Bicknell, and who would
+himself write to Lady Eleanor.
+
+“It is not, dearest Eleanor,” wrote he, “the time we would have selected
+for a separation, when troubles thicken around us; yet who knows if the
+incident may not fall happily, and turn our thoughts from the loss of
+fortune to the many blessings we enjoy in mutual affection and in our
+children's love, all to thicken around us at our meeting? I confess,
+too, I have a pride in being thought worthy to serve my country still,
+not in the tiresome monotony of a depot, but in the field,--among the
+young, the gallant, and the brave! Is it not enough to take off half
+this load of years, and make me fancy myself the gay colonel you may
+remember cantering beside your carriage in the Park--I shame to say how
+long ago! I wonder what the French will think of us, for nearly every
+officer in command might be superannuated, and Abercrombie is as
+venerable in white hairs as myself! There are, however, plenty of young
+and dashing fellows to replace us, and the spirit of the whole army is
+admirable.
+
+“Whither we are destined, what will be our collective force, and what
+the nature of the expedition, are profound secrets, with which even the
+generals of brigades are not intrusted; so that all I can tell you is,
+that some seven hundred and fifty of us are now sailing southward, under
+a steady breeze from the north-northwest; that the land is each moment
+growing fainter to my eyes, while the pilot is eagerly pressing me to
+conclude this last expression of my love to yourself and dearest Helen.
+Adieu.
+
+“Ever yours,
+
+“Maurice Darcy.”
+
+As with eyes half dimmed by tears Lady Eleanor read these lines, she
+could not help muttering a thanksgiving that her husband was at least
+beyond the risk of that danger of which Bicknell spoke,--an indignity,
+she feared, he never could have survived.
+
+“And better still,” cried Helen, “if a season of struggle and privation
+awaits us, that we should bear it alone,' and not before _his_ eyes, for
+whom such a prospect would be torture. Now let us see how to meet the
+evil.” So saying, she once more opened Bicknell's letter, and began to
+peruse it carefully; while Lady Eleanor sat, pale and in silence, nor
+even by a gesture showing any consciousness of the scene.
+
+“What miserable trifling do all these legal subtleties seem!” said the
+young girl, after she had read for some time; “how trying to patience
+to canvass the petty details by which a clear and honest cause must
+be asserted! Here are fees to counsel, briefs, statements, learned
+opinions, and wise consultations multiplied to show that we are the
+rightful owners of what our ancestors have held for centuries,
+while every step of usurpation by these Hickmans would appear almost
+unassailable. With what intensity of purpose, too, does that family
+persecute us! All these actions are instituted by them; these bonds are
+all in their hands. What means this hate?”
+
+Lady Eleanor looked up; and as her eyes met Helen's, a faint flush
+colored her cheek, for she thought of her interview with the old doctor,
+and that proposal by which their conflicting interests were to be
+satisfied.
+
+“We surely never injured them,” resumed the young girl, eagerly; “they
+were always well and hospitably received by us. Lionel even liked
+Beecham, when they were boys together,-a mild and quiet youth he was.”
+
+“So I thought him, too,” said Lady Eleanor, stealing a cautious glance
+at her daughter. “We saw them,” continued she, more boldly, “under
+circumstances of no common difficulty,--struggling under the
+embarrassment of a false social position, with such a grandfather!”
+
+“And such a father! Nay, mamma, of the two you must confess the doctor
+was our favorite. The old man's selfishness was not half so vulgar as
+his son's ambition.”
+
+“And yet, Helen,” said Lady Eleanor, calmly, “such are the essential
+transitions by which families are formed; wealthy in one generation,
+aspiring in the next, recognized gentry--mayhap titled--in the third.
+It is but rarely that the whole series unfolds itself before our eyes at
+once, as in the present instance, and consequently it is but rarely that
+we detect so palpably all its incongruities and absurdities. A few
+years more,” added she, with a deep sigh, “and these O'Reillys will be
+regarded as the rightful owners of Gwynne Abbey by centuries of descent;
+and if an antiquary detect the old leopards of the Darcys frowning from
+some sculptured keystone, it will be to weave an ingenious theory of
+intermarriage between the houses.”
+
+“An indignity they might well have spared us,” said Helen, proudly.
+
+“Such are the world's changes,” continued Lady Eleanor, pursuing her
+own train of thought. “How very few remember the origin of our proudest
+houses, and how little does it matter whether the foundations have been
+laid by the rude courage of some lawless baron of the tenth century, or
+the crafty shrewdness of some Hickman O'Reilly of the nineteenth!”
+
+If there was a tone of bitter mockery in Lady Eleanor's words, there was
+also a secret meaning which, even to her own heart, she would not
+have ventured to avow. By one of those strange and most inexplicable
+mysteries of our nature, she was endeavoring to elicit from her daughter
+some expression of dissent to her own recorded opinion of the O'Reillys
+and seeking for some chance word which might show that Helen regarded
+an alliance with that family with more tolerant feelings than she did
+herself.
+
+Her intentions on this head were uot destined to be successful. Helen's
+prejudices on the score of birth and station were rather strengthened
+than shaken by the changes of fortune; she cherished the prestige of
+their good blood as a source of proud consolation that no adversity
+could detract from. Before, however, she could reply, the tramp of a
+horse's feet--a most unusual sound--was heard on the gravel without; and
+immediately after the heavy foot of some one, as if feeling his way in
+the dark towards the door. Without actual fear, but not without intense
+anxiety, both mother and daughter heard the heavy knocking of a loaded
+horsewhip on the door; nor was it until old Tate had twice repeated his
+question that a sign replied he might open the door.
+
+“Look to the pony there!” cried a voice, as the old man peered out into
+the dark night. And before he could reply or resist, the speaker pushed
+past him and entered the room. “I crave your pardon, my Lady Eleanor,”
+ said she,--for it was Miss Daly, who, drenched with rain and all
+splashed with mud, now stood before them,--“I crave your pardon for this
+visit of so scant ceremony. Has the Knight returned yet?”
+
+The strong resemblance to her brother Bagenal, increased by her gesture
+and the tones of her voice, at once proclaimed to Lady Eleanor who her
+visitor was; and as she rose graciously to receive her, she replied that
+“the Knight, so far from having returned, had already sailed with the
+expedition under General Abercrombie.”
+
+Miss Daly listened with breathless eagerness to the words, and as they
+concluded, she exclaimed aloud, “Thank God!” and threw herself into
+a chair. A pause, which, if brief, was not devoid of embarrassment,
+followed; and while Lady Eleanor was about to break it, Miss Daly again
+spoke, but with a voice and manner very different from before: “You will
+pardon, I am certain, the rudeness of my intrusion, Lady Eleanor, and
+you, too, Miss Darcy, when I tell you that my heart was too full of
+anxiety to leave any room for courtesy. It was only this afternoon that
+an accident informed me that a person had arrived in this neighborhood
+with a writ to arrest the Knight of Gwynne. I was five-and-twenty
+miles from this when I heard the news, and although I commissioned my
+informant to hasten thither with the tidings, I grew too full of dread,
+and had too many fears of a mischance, to await the result, so that I
+resolved to come myself.”
+
+“How full of kindness!” exclaimed Lady Eleanor, while Helen took Miss
+Daly's hand and pressed it to her lips. “Let our benefactress not suffer
+too much in our cause. Helen, dearest, assist Miss Daly to a change of
+dress. You are actually wet through.”
+
+“Nay, nay, Lady Eleanor, you must not teach me fastidiousness. It has
+been my custom for many a year not to care for weather, and in the kind
+of life I lead such training is indispensable.” Miss Daly removed her
+hat as she spoke, and, pushing back her dripping hair, seemed really
+insensible to the discomforts which caused her hosts so much uneasiness.
+
+“I see clearly,” resumed she, laughing, “I was right in not
+making myself known to you before; for though you may forgive the
+eccentricities that come under the mask of good intentions, you 'd
+never pardon the thousand offences against good breeding and the world's
+prescription which spring from the wayward fancies of an old maid who
+has lived so much beyond the pale of affection she has forgotten all the
+arts that win it.”
+
+“If you are unjust to yourself, Miss Daly, pray be not so to us; nor
+think that we can be insensible to friendship like yours.”
+
+“Oh, as for this trifling service, you esteem it far too highly;
+besides, when you hear the story, you'll see how much more you have to
+thank your own hospitality than my promptitude.”
+
+“This is, indeed, puzzling me,” exclaimed Lady Eleanor.
+
+“Do you remember having met and received at your house a certain Mr.
+Dempsey?”
+
+“Certainly, he dined with us on one occasion, and paid us some three or
+four visits. A tiresome little vulgar man, with a most intense curiosity
+devouring him to know everything of everybody.”
+
+“To this gift, or infirmity, whichever it be, we are now indebted. Since
+the breaking-up of the boarding-house at Port Ballintray, which this
+year was somewhat earlier than usual,”--here Miss Daly smiled slightly,
+as though there lay more in the words than they seemed to imply,--“Mr.
+Dempsey betook himself to a little village near Glenarm, where I have
+been staying, and where the chief recommendation as a residence lay
+possibly in the fact that the weekly mail-car to Derry changed horses
+there. Hence an opportunity of communing with the world he valued at
+its just price. It so chanced that the only traveller who came for three
+weeks, arrived the night before last, drenched to the skin, and so ill
+from cold, hunger, and exhaustion that, unable to prosecute his journey
+farther, he was carried from the car to his bed. Mr. Dempsey, whose
+heart is really as kind as inquisitive, at once tendered his services to
+the stranger, who after some brief intercourse commissioned him to open
+his portmanteau, and taking out writing-materials, to inform his friends
+in Dublin of his sudden indisposition, and his fears that his illness
+might delay, or perhaps render totally abortive, his mission to the
+north. Here was a most provoking mystery for Mr. Dempsey. The very
+allusion to a matter of importance, in this dubious half-light, was
+something more than human nature should be tried with; and if the
+patient burned with the fever of the body, Mr. Dempsey suffered under
+the less tolerable agony of mental torment,--imagining every
+possible contingency that should bring a stranger down into a lonely
+neighborhood, and canvassing every imaginable inducement, from seduction
+to highway robbery. Whether the sick man's sleep was merely the heavy
+debt of exhausted nature, or whether Mr. Dempsey aided his repose by
+adding a few drops to the laudanum prescribed by the doctor, true it is,
+he lay in a deep slumber, and never awoke till late the following
+day; meanwhile Mr. Dempsey recompensed his Samaritanism by a careful
+inspection of the stranger's trunk and its contents, and, in particular,
+made a patient examination of two parchment documents, which,
+fortunately for his curiosity, were not sealed, but simply tied with red
+tape.
+
+[Illustration: 180]
+
+Great was his surprise to discover that one of these was a writ to
+arrest a certain Paul Dempsey, and the other directed against the
+resident of 'The Corvy,' whom he now, for the first time, learned was
+the Knight of Gwynne.
+
+“Self-interest, the very instinct of safety itself, weighed less with
+him than his old passion for gossip; and no sooner had he learned the
+important fact of who his neighbor was, than he set off straight to
+communicate the news to me. I must do him the justice to say, that when
+I proposed his hastening off to you with the tidings, the little man
+acceded with the utmost promptitude; but as his journey was to be
+performed on foot, and by certain mountain paths not always easily
+discovered in our misty climate, it is probable he could not reach this
+for some hours.”
+
+When Miss Daly concluded, Lady Eleanor and her daughter renewed their
+grateful acknowledgments for her thoughtful kindness. “These are sad
+themes by which to open our acquaintance,” said Lady Eleanor; “but it
+is among the prerogatives of friendship to share the pressure of
+misfortune, and Mr. Daly's sister can be no stranger to ours.”
+
+“Nor how undeserved they were,” added Miss Daly, gravely.
+
+“Nay, which of us can dare say so much?” interrupted Lady Eleanor; “we
+may well have forgotten ourselves in that long career of prosperity
+we enjoyed,--for ours was, indeed, a happy lot! I need not speak of
+my husband to one who knew him once so well. Generous, frank, and
+noble-hearted as he always was,-his only failing the excessive
+confidence that would go on believing in the honesty of others, from the
+prompting of a spirit that stooped to nothing low or unworthy,--he never
+knew suspicion.” “True,” echoed Miss Daly, “he never did suspect!” There
+was such a plaintive sadness in her voice that it drew Helen's eyes
+towards her; nor could all her efforts conceal a tear that trickled
+along her cheek.
+
+“And to what an alternative are we now reduced!” continued Lady Eleanor,
+who, with all the selfishness of sorrow, loved to linger on the painful
+theme,--“to rejoice at separation, and to feel relieved in thinking that
+he is gone to peril life itself rather than endure the lingering death
+of a broken heart!”
+
+“Yes, young lady,” said Miss Daly, turning towards Helen, “such are
+the recompenses of the most endearing affection, such the penalties of
+loving. Would you not almost say, 'It were better to be such as I am,
+unloved, uncared for, without one to share a joy or grief with?' I half
+think so myself,” added she, suddenly rising from her chair. “I can
+almost persuade myself that this load of life is easier borne when all
+its pressure is one's own.”
+
+“You are not about to leave us?” said Lady Eleanor, taking her hand
+affectionately.
+
+“Yes,” replied she, smiling sadly, “when my heart has disburdened itself
+of an immediate care, I become but sorry company, and sometimes think
+aloud. How fortunate I have no secrets!--Bring my pony to the door,”
+ said she, as Tate answered the summons of the bell.
+
+“But wait at least for daylight,” said Helen, eagerly; “the storm is
+increasing, and the night is dark and starless. Remember what a road you
+'ve come.”
+
+“I often ride at this hour and with no better weather,” said she,
+adjusting the folds of her habit; “and as to the road, Puck knows it too
+well to wander from the track, daylight or dark.”
+
+“For our sakes, I entreat you not to venture till morning,” cried Lady
+Eleanor.
+
+“I could not if I would,” said Miss Daly, steadily. “By to-morrow, at
+noon, I have an engagement at some distance hence, and much to arrange
+in the mean time. Pray do not ask me again. I cannot bear to refuse
+you, even in such a trifle; and as to me or my safety, waste not another
+thought about it. They who have so little to live for are wondrous
+secure from accident.”
+
+“When shall we see you? Soon, I hope and trust!” exclaimed both mother
+and daughter together.
+
+Miss Daly shook her head; then added hastily, “I never promise anything.
+I was a great castle-builder once, but time has cured me of the habit,
+and I do not like, even by a pledge, to forestall the morrow. Farewell,
+Lady Eleanor. It is better to see but little of me, and think the
+better, than grow weary of my waywardness on nearer acquaintance. Adieu,
+Miss Darcy; I am glad to have seen you; don't forget me.” So saying, she
+pressed Helen's hands to her lips; but ere she let them drop, she
+squeezed a letter into her grasp; the moment after, she was gone.
+
+“Oh, then, I remember her the beauty wonst!” said Tate, as he closed the
+door, after peering out for some seconds into the dark night: “and
+proud she was too,--riding a white Arabian, with two servants in
+scarlet liveries after her! The world has quare changes; but hers is the
+greatest ever I knew!”
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIV. A TÊTE-À-TÊTE AND A LETTER
+
+Long after Miss Daly's departure, Lady Eleanor continued to discuss the
+eccentricity of her manners and the wilful abruptness of her address;
+for although deeply sensible and grateful for her kindness, she dwelt on
+every' peculiarity of her appearance with a pertinacity that more than
+once surprised her daughter. Helen, indeed, was very far from being a
+patient listener, not only because she was more tolerant in her estimate
+of their visitor, but because she was eager to read the letter so
+secretly intrusted to her hands. A dread of some unknown calamity, some
+sad tidings of her father or Lionel, was ever uppermost in her thoughts,
+nor could she banish the impression that Miss Daly's visit had another
+and very different object than that which she alleged to Lady Eleanor.
+
+It may be reckoned among the well-known contrarieties of life, that our
+friends are never more disposed to be long-winded and discursive than at
+the very time we would give the world to be alone and to ourselves. With
+a most malicious intensity they seem to select that moment for indulging
+in all those speculations by which people while away the weary hours.
+In such a mood was Lady Eleanor Darcy. Not only did she canvass and
+criticise Miss Daly, as she appeared before them, but went off into
+long rambling reminiscences of all she had formerly heard about her;
+for although they had never met before, Miss Daly had been the reigning
+Belle of the West before her own arrival in Ireland.
+
+“She must have been handsome, Helen, don't you think so?” said she, at
+the end of a long enumeration of the various eccentricities imputed to
+her.
+
+“I should say very handsome,” replied Helen.
+
+“Scarcely feminine enough, perhaps,” resumed Lady Eleanor,--“the
+features too bold, the expression too decided; but this may have been
+the fault of a social tone, which required everything in exaggeration,
+and would tolerate nothing save in excess.”
+
+“Yes, mamma,” said Helen, vaguely assenting to a remark she had not
+attended to.
+
+“I never fancied that style, either in beauty or in manner,” continued
+Lady Eleanor. “It wants, in the first place, the great element of
+pleasing; it is not natural.”
+
+“No, mamma!” rejoined Helen, mechanically as before.
+
+“Besides,” continued Lady Eleanor, gratified at her daughter's ready
+assent, “for one person to whom these mannerisms are becoming, there are
+at least a hundred slavish imitators ready to adopt without taste, and
+follow without discrimination. Now, Miss Daly was the fashion once. Who
+can say to what heresies she has given origin, to what absurdities in
+dress, in manner, and in bearing?”
+
+Helen smiled, and nodded an acquiescence without knowing to what.
+
+“There is one evil attendant on all this,” said Lady Eleanor, who, with
+the merciless ingenuity of a thorough poser, went on ratiocinating from
+her own thoughts; “one can rarely rely upon even the kindest intentions
+of people of this sort, so often are their best offices but mere
+passing, fitful impulses; don't you think so?”
+
+“Yes, mamma,” said Helen, roused by this sudden appeal to a more than
+usual acquiescence, while totally ignorant as to what.
+
+“Then, they have seldom any discretion, even when they mean well.”
+
+“No, mamma.”
+
+“While they expect the most implicit compliance on your part with every
+scheme they have devised for your benefit.”
+
+“Very true,” chimed in Helen, who assented at random.
+
+“Sad alternative,” sighed Lady Eleanor, “between such rash friendship
+and the lukewarm kindness of our courtly cousin.”
+
+“I think not!” said Helen, who fancied she was still following the
+current of her mother's reflections.
+
+“Indeed!” exclaimed Lady Eleanor, iu astonishment, while she looked at
+her daughter for an explanation.
+
+“I quite agree with you, mamma,” cried Helen, blushing as she spoke, for
+she was suddenly recalled to herself.
+
+“The more fortunate is the acquiescence, my dear,” said Lady Eleanor,
+dryly, “since it seems perfectly instinctive. I find, Helen, you have
+not been a very attentive listener, and as I conclude I must have been a
+very unamusing companion, I'll even say good-night; nay, my sweet child,
+it is late enough not to seek excuse for weariness--goodnight.”
+
+Helen blushed deeply; dissimulation was a very difficult task to her,
+and for a moment seemed more than her strength could bear. She had
+resolved to place the letter in her mother's hands, when the thought
+flashed across her, that if its contents might occasion any sudden or
+severe shock, she would never forgive herself. This mental struggle,
+brief as it was, brought the tears to her eyes,--an emotion Lady Eleanor
+attributed to a different cause, as she said,--
+
+“You do not suppose, my dearest Helen, that I am angry because your
+thoughts took a pleasanter path than my owu.”
+
+“Oh, no,-no!” cried Helen, eagerly, “I know you are not. It is my own--”
+ She stopped; another word would have revealed everything, and with an
+affectionate embrace she hurried from the room.
+
+“Poor child!” exclaimed her mother; “the courage that sustained us both
+so long is beginning to fail her now; and yet I feel as if our trials
+were but commencing.”
+
+While Lady Eleanor dwelt on these sad thoughts, Helen sat beside her bed
+weeping bitterly.
+
+“How shall I bear up,” thought she, “if deprived of that confiding trust
+a mother's love has ever supplied,--without one to counsel or direct
+me?”
+
+Half fearing to open the letter, lest all her resolves should be altered
+by its contents, she remained a long time balancing one difficulty
+against another. Wearied and undecided, she turned at last to the letter
+itself, as if for advice. It was a strange hand, and addressed to “Miss
+Daly.” With trembling fingers she unfolded the paper, and read the
+writer's name,--“Richard Forester.”
+
+[Illustration: 186]
+
+A flood of grateful tears burst forth as she read the words; a sense
+of relief from impending calamity stole over her mind, while she said,
+“Thank God! my father and Lionel--” She could say no more, for sobbing
+choked her utterance. The emotions, if violent, passed rapidly off; and
+as she wiped away her tears, a smile of hope lit up her features. At any
+other time she would have speculated long and carefully over the causes
+which made Forester correspond with Miss Daly, and by what right she
+herself should be intrusted with his letter. Now her thoughts were
+hurried along too rapidly for reflection. The vague dread of misfortune,
+so suddenly removed, suggested a sense of gratitude that thrilled
+through her heart like joy. In such a frame of mind she read the
+following lines:--
+
+At Sea. My dear Miss Daly,-I cannot thank you enough for your letter,
+so full of kindness, of encouragement, and of hope. How much I stand
+in need of them! I have strictly followed every portion of your
+counsel,--would that I could tell you as successfully as implicitly!
+The address of this letter will, however, be the shortest reply to that
+question. I write these lines from the “Hermione” frigate. Yes, I am a
+volunteer in the expedition to the Mediterranean; and only think who is
+my commanding officer,--the Knight himself. I had enrolled myself
+under the name of Conway; but when called up on deck this morning for
+inspection, such was my surprise on seeing the Knight of Gwynne, or, as
+he is now called, Colonel Darcy, I almost betrayed myself. Fortunately,
+however, I escaped unnoticed,--a circumstance I believe I owe chiefly to
+the fact that several young men of family are also volunteers, so that
+my position attracted no unusual attention. It was a most anxious moment
+for me as the colonel came down the line, addressing a word here and
+there as he went; he stopped within one of me, and spoke for some
+seconds to a young fellow whose appearance indicated delicate health.
+How full of gentleness and benevolence were his words! But when he
+turned and fixed his eyes on me, my heart beat so quick, my head grew
+so dizzy, I thought I should have fainted. He remained at least half a
+minute in front of me, and then asked the orderly for my name--“Conway!
+Conway!” repeated he more than once. “A very old name. I hope you'll do
+it credit, sir,” added he, and moved on,--how much to my relief I need
+not say. What a strange rencontre! Often as I wonder at the singular
+necessity that has made me a private soldier, all my astonishment is
+lost in thinking of the Knight of Gwynne's presence amongst us; and yet
+he looks the soldier even as much as he did the country gentleman when
+I first saw him, and, strangely too, seems younger and more active than
+before. To see him here, chatting with the officers under his command,
+moving about, taking interest in everything that goes on, who would
+suspect the change of fortune that has befallen him! Not a vestige
+of discontent, not even a passing look of impatience on his handsome
+features; and yet, with this example before me, and the consciousness
+that my altered condition is nothing in comparison with his, I am
+low-spirited and void of hope! But a few weeks ago I would have thought
+myself the luckiest fellow breathing, if told that I were to serve
+under Colonel Darcy, and now I feel ashamed and abashed, and dread a
+recognition every time I see him. In good truth, I cannot forget the
+presumption that led me first to his acquaintance. My mind dwells on
+that unhappy mission to the West, and its consequences. My foolish
+vanity in supposing that I, a mere boy, uninformed, and without
+reflection, should be able to influence a man so much my superior in
+every way! and this, bad as it is, is the most favorable view of my
+conduct, for I dare not recall the dishonorable means by which I was to
+buy his support. Then, I think of my heedless and disreputable quarrel.
+What motives and what actions in the eyes of her whose affection I
+sought! How worthily am I punished for my presumption!
+
+I told you that I strictly followed the advice of your last letter.
+Immediately on receiving it I wrote a few lines to my mother, entreating
+her permission to see and speak with her, and expressing an earnest
+hope that our interview would end in restoring me to the place I so long
+enjoyed in her affection. A very formal note, appointing the following
+day, was all the reply.
+
+On arriving at Berkeley Square, and entering the drawing-room, I found,
+to my great astonishment, I will not say more, that a gentleman, a
+stranger to me, was already there, seated at the fire, opposite my
+mother, and with that easy air that bespoke his visit was not merely
+accidental, but a matter of pre-arrangement.
+
+Whatever my looks might have conveyed, I know not, but I was not given
+the opportunity for a more explicit inquiry, when my mother, in her
+stateliest of manners, arose and said,--
+
+“Richard, I wish to present you to my esteemed friend, Lord Netherby;
+a gentleman to whose kindness you are indebted for any favorable
+construction I can put upon your folly, and who has induced me to
+receive you here to-day.”
+
+“If I knew, madam, that such influence had been necessary, I should
+have hesitated before I laid myself under so deep an obligation to his
+Lordship, to whose name and merits I confess myself a stranger.”
+
+“I am but too happy, Captain Forester,” interposed the Earl, “if any
+little interest I possess in Lady Wallincourt's esteem enables me to
+contribute to your reconciliation. I know the great delicacy of
+an interference, in a case like the present, and how officious and
+impertinent the most respectful suggestions must appear, when offered by
+one who can lay no claim, at least to _your_ good opinion.”
+
+A very significant emphasis on the word “your,” a look towards my
+mother, and a very meaning smile from her in reply, at once revealed to
+me what, till then, I had not suspected,--that his Lordship meditated a
+deeper influence over her Ladyship's heart than the mere reconciliation
+of a truant son to her esteem.
+
+“I believe, my Lord,” said I, hastily, and I fear not without some
+anger,--“I believe I should not have dared to decline your kind
+influence in my behalf, had I suspected the terms on which you would
+exert it. I really was not aware before that you possessed, so fully,
+her Ladyship's confidence.”
+
+“If you read the morning papers, Captain Forester,” said he, with the
+blandest smile, “you could scarcely avoid learning that my presence here
+is neither an intrusion nor an impertinence.”
+
+“My dear mother,” cried I, forgetting all, save the long-continued grief
+by which my father's memory was hallowed, “is this really the case?”
+
+“I can forgive your astonishment,” replied she, with a look of anger,
+“that the qualities you hold so highly in your esteem should have met
+favor from one so placed and gifted as the Earl of Netherby.”
+
+“Nay, madam; on the contrary. My difficulty is to think how any new
+proffer of attachment could find reception in a heart I fondly thought
+closed against such appeals; too full of its own memories of the past to
+profane the recollection by--”
+
+I hesitated and stopped. Another moment, and I would have uttered a word
+which for worlds I would not have spoken.
+
+My mother became suddenly pale as marble, and lay back in her chair
+as if faint and sick. His Lordship adjusted his neckcloth and his
+watch-chain, and walked towards the window, with an air of as much
+awkwardness as so very courtly a personage could exhibit.
+
+“You see, my Lord,” said my mother,--and her voice trembled at every
+word,--“you see, I was right: I told you how much this interview would
+agitate and distress me.”
+
+“But it need not, madam,” interposed I; “or, at all events, it may be
+rendered very brief. I sought an opportunity of speaking to you, in the
+hope that whatever impressions you may have received of my conduct in
+Ireland were either exaggerated or unjust; that I might convince you,
+however I may have erred in prudence or judgment, I have transgressed
+neither in honor nor good faith.”
+
+“Vindications,” said my mother, “are very weak things in the face of
+direct facts. Did you, or did you not, resign your appointment on the
+viceroy's staff--I stop not to ask with what scant courtesy--that you
+might be free to rove over the country, on some knight-errant absurdity?
+Did you, after having one disreputable quarrel in the same neighborhood,
+again involve yourself and your name in an affair with a notorious
+mob-orator and disturber, and thus become the 'celebrity' of the
+newspapers for at least a fortnight? And lastly, when I hoped, by
+absence from England, and foreign service, to erase the memory of
+these follies--to give them no harsher name,--did you not refuse the
+appointment, and without advice or permission sell out of the army
+altogether?”
+
+“Without adverting to the motives, madam, you have so kindly attributed
+to me, I beg to say 'yes' to all your questions. I am no longer an
+officer in his Majesty's service.”
+
+“Nor any longer a member of _my_ family, sir,” said my mother,
+passionately; “at least so far as the will rests with me. A gentleman
+so very independent in his principles is doubtless not less so in his
+circumstances. You are entitled to five thousand pounds only, by your
+father's will: this, if I mistake not, you have received and spent many
+a day ago. I will not advert to what my original intentions in your
+behalf were; they are recorded, however, in this paper, which you,
+my Lord, have read.” Here her Ladyship drew forth a document, like
+a law-paper, while the Earl bowed a deep acquiescence, and muttered
+something like--“Very generous and noble-minded, indeed!”
+
+“Yes, sir,” resumed my mother, “I had no other thought or object, save
+in establishing you in a position suitable to your name and family; you
+have thought fit to oppose my wishes on every point, and here I end the
+vain struggle.” So saying, she tore the paper in pieces, and threw the
+fragments into the fire.
+
+A deep silence ensued, which I, for many reasons, had no inducement
+to break. The Earl coughed and hemmed three or four times, as though
+endeavoring to hit upon something that might relieve the general
+embarrassment, but my mother was again the first to speak.
+
+“I have no doubt, sir, you have determined on some future career. I am
+not indiscreet enough to inquire what; but that you may not enter upon
+it quite unprovided, I have settled upon you the sum of four hundred
+pounds yearly. Do not mistake me, nor suppose that this act proceeds
+from any lingering hope on my part that you will attempt to retrace your
+false steps, and recover the lost place in my affection. I am too well
+acquainted with the family gift of determination, as it is flatteringly
+styled, to think so. You owe this consideration entirely to the kind
+interference of the Earl of Netherby. Nay, my Lord, it is but fair that
+you should have any merit the act confers, where you have incurred all
+the responsibility.”
+
+“I will relieve his Lordship of both,” said I. “I beg to decline your
+Ladyship's generosity and his Lordship's kindness, with the self-same
+feeling of respect.”
+
+“My dear Captain Forester, wait one moment,” said Lord Netherby, taking
+my arm. “Let me speak to you, even for a few moments.”
+
+“You mistake him, my Lord,” said my mother, with a scornful smile, while
+she arose to leave the room,--“you mistake him much.”
+
+“Pray hear me out,” said Lord Netherby, taking my hand in both his own.
+“It is no time, nor a case for any rash resolves,” whispered he; “Lady
+Wallincourt has been misinformed,--her mind has been warped by stories
+of one kind or other. Go to her, explain fully and openly everything.”
+
+“Her Ladyship is gone, my Lord,” exclaimed I, stopping him.
+
+Yes, she had left the room while we were yet speaking. This was my
+last adieu from my mother! I remember little more, though Lord Netherby
+detained me still some time, and spoke with much kindness; indeed,
+throughout, his conduct was graceful and good-natured.
+
+Why should I weary you longer? Why speak of the long dreary night,
+and the longer day that followed this scene,--swayed by different
+impulses,-now hoping and fearing alternately,--not daring to seek
+counsel from my friends, because I well knew what worldly advice would
+be given,--I was wretched. In the very depth of my despondency, like a
+ray of sunlight darting through some crevice of a prisoner's cell, came
+your own words to me, “Be a soldier in more than garb or name, be one
+in the generous ardor of a bold career. Let it be your boast that you
+started fairly in the race, and so distanced your competitors.” I caught
+at the suggestion with avidity. I was no more depressed or down-hearted.
+I felt as if, throwing off my load of care, a better and a brighter day
+was about to break for me; the same evening I left London for Plymouth,
+and became a volunteer.
+
+Before concluding these lines, I would ask why you tell me no more
+of Miss Darcy than that “she is well, and, the reverse of her fortune
+considered, in spirits.” Am I to learn no more than that? Will you not
+say if my name is ever spoken by or before her? How am I remembered? Has
+time-have my changed fortunes softened her stern determination towards
+me? Would that I could know this,--would that I could divine what may
+lurk in her heart of compassionate pity for one who resigned all for
+her love, and lost! With all my gratitude for your kindness, when I
+well-nigh believed none remained in the world for me,
+
+I am, yours in sincere affection,
+
+Richard Forester.
+
+I forgot to ask if you can read one strange mystery of this business, at
+least so the words seem to imply. Lord Netherby said, when endeavoring
+to dissuade me from leaving my mother's house, “Remember, Captain
+Forester, that Lady Wallincourt's prejudices regarding your Irish
+friends have something stronger than mere caprice to strengthen them.
+You must not ask her to forget as well as forgive, all at once.” Can you
+interpret this riddle for me? for although at the time it made little
+impression, it recurs to my mind now twenty times a day.
+
+Here concluded Forester's letter. A single line in pencil was written
+at the foot, and signed “M. D. “: “I am a bad prophet, or the volunteer
+will turn out better than the aide-de-camp.”
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XV. A DINNER AT COM HEFFERNAN'S
+
+When the Union was carried, and the new order of affairs in Ireland
+assumed an appearance of permanence, a general feeling of discontent
+began to exhibit itself in every class in the capital. The patriots
+saw themselves neglected by the Government, without having reaped in
+popularity a recompense for their independence. The mercantile interest
+perceived, even already, the falling off in trade from the removal of a
+wealthy aristocracy; and the supporters of the Minister, or such few as
+still lingered in Dublin, began to suspect how much higher terms they
+might have exacted for their adhesion, had they only anticipated the
+immensity of the sacrifice to which they contributed.
+
+Save that comparatively small number who had bargained for English
+peerages and English rank, and had thereby bartered their nationality,
+none were satisfied.
+
+Even the moderate men--that intelligent fraction who believe that no
+changes are fraught with one half the good or evil their advocates
+or opponents imagine--even they were disappointed on finding that the
+incorporation of the Irish Parliament with that of England was the
+chief element of the new measure, and no more intimate or solid Union
+contemplated. The shrewd men of every party saw not only how difficult
+would be the future government of the country, but that the critical
+moment was come which should decide into whose hands the chief influence
+would fall. Among these speculators on the future, Mr. Heffernan held a
+prominent place. No man knew better the secret machinery of office,
+none had seen more of that game, half fair, half foul, by which an
+administration is sustained. He knew, moreover, the character and
+capability of every public man in Ireland, had been privy to their
+waverings and hesitations, and even their bargains with the Crown; he
+knew where gratified ambition had rendered a new peer indifferent to a
+future temptation, and also where abortive negotiations had sowed the
+seeds of a lingering disaffection.
+
+To construct a new party from these scattered elements--a party which,
+possessing wealth and station, had not yet tasted any of the sweets of
+patronage--was the task he now proposed to himself. By this party, of
+whom he himself was to be the organ, he hoped to control the Minister,
+and support him by turns. Of those already purchased by the Government,
+few would care to involve themselves once more in the fatigues of a
+public life. Many would gladly repose on the rewards of their victory;
+many would shrink from the obloquy their reappearance would inevitably
+excite. Mr. Heffernan had then to choose his friends either from
+that moderate section of politicians whom scruples of conscience
+or inferiority of ability had left un-bought, or the more energetic
+faction, suddenly called into existence by the success of the French
+Revolution, and of which O'Halloran was the leader. For many reasons his
+choice fell on the former. Not only because they possessed that standing
+and influence which, derived from property, would be most regarded in
+England, but that their direction and guidance would be an easier
+task; whereas the others, more numerous and more needy, could only be
+purchased by actual place or pension, while in O'Halloran Heffernan
+would always have a dangerous rival, who, if he played subordinate for a
+while, it would only be at the price of absolute rule hereafter.
+
+From the moment Lord Castlereagh withdrew from Ireland, Mr. Heffernan
+commenced his intrigue,--at first by a tour of visits through the
+country, in which he contrived to sound the opinions of a great number
+of persons, and subsequently by correspondence, so artfully sustained
+as to induce many to commit themselves to a direct line of action which,
+when discussing, they had never speculated on seeing realized.
+
+With a subtlety of no common kind, and an indefatigable industry,
+Heffernan labored in the cause during the summer and autumn, and with
+such success that there was scarcely a county in Ireland where he had
+not secured some leading adherent, while for many of the boroughs he had
+already entered into plans for the support of new candidates of his own
+opinions.
+
+The views he put forward were simply these: Ireland can no longer be
+governed by an oligarchy, however powerful. It must be ruled either by
+the weight and influence of the country gentlemen, or left to the mercy
+of the demagogue. The gentry must be rewarded for their adhesion, and
+enabled to maintain their pre-eminence, by handing over to them the
+patronage, not in part or in fractions, but wholly and solely. Every
+civil appointment must be filled up by them,--the Church, the law, the
+revenue, the police, must all be theirs. “The great aristocracy,”
+ said he, “have obtained the marquisates and earldoms; bishoprics and
+governments have rewarded their services. It is now _our_ turn; and
+if our prizes be less splendid and showy, they are not devoid of some
+sterling qualities.
+
+“To make Ireland ungovernable without us must be our aim and object,--to
+embarrass and confound every administration, to oppose the ministers,
+pervert their good objects, and exaggerate their bad. Pledged to no
+distinct line of acting, we can be patriotic when it suits us, and
+declaim on popular rights when nothing better offers. Acting in concert,
+and diffusing an influence in every county and town and corporation,
+what ministry can long resist us, or what government anxious for office
+would refuse to make terms with us? With station to influence society,
+wealth to buy the press, activity to watch and counteract our enemies, I
+see nothing which can arrest our progress. We must and will succeed.”
+
+Such was the conclusion of a letter he wrote to one of his most trusted
+allies,--a letter written to invite his presence in Dublin, where a
+meeting of the leading men of the new party was to be held, and their
+engagements for the future determined upon.
+
+For this meeting Heffernan made the greatest exertions, not only that it
+might include a great portion of the wealth and influence of the land,
+but that a degree of _éclat_ and splendor should attend it, the more
+likely to attract notice from the secrecy maintained as to its object
+and intention. Many were invited on the consideration of the display
+their presence would make in the capital; and not a few were tempted by
+the opportunity for exhibiting their equipages and their liveries at a
+season when the recognized leaders of fashion were absent.
+
+It is no part of our object to dwell on this well-known intrigue, one
+which at the time occupied no small share of public attention, and even
+excited the curiosity and the fears of the Government. Enough when
+we say that Mr. Heffernan's disappointments were numerous and severe.
+Letters of apology, some couched in terms of ambiguous cordiality,
+others less equivocally cold, came pouring in for the last fortnight.
+The noble lord destined to fill the chair regretted deeply that domestic
+affairs of a most pressing nature would not permit of his presence. The
+baronet who should move the first resolution would be compelled to be
+absent from Ireland; the seconder was laid up with the gout. Scarcely
+a single person of influence had promised his attendance: the greater
+number had given vague and conditional replies, evidently to gain time
+and consult the feeling of their country neighbors.
+
+These refusals and subterfuges were a sad damper to Mr. Heffernan's
+hopes. To any one less sanguine, they would have led to a total
+abandonment of the enterprise. He, however, was made of sterner stuff,
+and resolved, if the demonstration could effect no more, it could at
+least be used as a threat to the Government,--a threat of not less
+power because its terrors were involved in mystery. With all these
+disappointments time sped on, the important day arrived, and the great
+room of the Rotunda, hired specially for the occasion, was crowded by a
+numerous assemblage, to whose proceedings no member of the public press
+was admitted. Notice was given that in due time a declaration, drawn
+up by a committee, would be published; but until then the most profound
+secrecy wrapped their objects and intentions.
+
+The meeting, convened for one o'clock, separated at five; and, save the
+unusual concourse of carriages, and the spectacle of some liveries new
+to the capital, there seemed nothing to excite the public attention. No
+loud-tongued orator was heard from without, nor did a single cheer mark
+the reception of any welcome sentiment; and as the members withdrew, the
+sarcastic allusions of the mob intimated that they were supposed to be
+a new sect of “Quakers.” Heffernan's carriage was the last to leave the
+door; and it was remarked, as he entered it, that he looked agitated and
+ill,--signs which few had ever remarked in him before. He drove rapidly
+home, where a small and select party of friends had been invited by him
+to dinner.
+
+He made a hasty toilet, and entered the drawing-room a few moments after
+the first knock at the street-door announced the earliest guest. It
+was an old and intimate friend, Sir Giles St. George, a south-country
+baronet of old family, but small fortune, who for many years had
+speculated on Heffernan's interest in his behalf. He was a shrewd,
+coarse man, who from eccentricity and age had obtained a species of
+moral “writ of ease,” absolving him from all observance of the usages
+in common among all well-bred people,--a privilege he certainly did not
+seem disposed to let rust from disuse.
+
+“Well, Con,” said he, as he stood with his back to the fire, and
+his hands deeply thrust into his breeches-pockets,--“well, Con, your
+Convention has been a damnable failure. Where the devil did you get up
+such a rabble of briefless barristers, ungowned attorneys, dissenting
+ministers, and illegitimate sons? I'd swear, out of your seven hundred,
+there were not five-and-twenty possessed of a fifty-pound freehold,--not
+five who could defy the sheriff in their own county.”
+
+Heffernan made no reply, but with arms crossed, and his head leaned
+forward, walked slowly up and down the room, while the other resumed,--
+
+“As for old Killowen, who filled the chair, that was enough to damn
+the whole thing. One of King James's lords, forsooth!--why, man, what
+country gentleman of any pretension could give precedence to a fellow
+like that, who neither reads, writes, nor speaks the King's English--and
+your great gun, Mr. Hickman O'Reilly--”
+
+“False-hearted scoundrel!” muttered Heffernan, half aloud.
+
+“Faith he may be, but he's the cleverest of the pack. I liked his speech
+well. There was good common sense in his asking for some explicit plan
+of proceeding,--what you meant to do, and how to do it. Eh, Con, that
+was to the point.”
+
+“To the point!” repeated Heffernan, scornfully; “yes, as the declaration
+of an informer, that he will betray his colleagues, is to the point.”
+
+“And then his motion to admit the reporters,” said St. George, as with a
+malignant pleasure he continued to suggest matter of annoyance.
+
+“He 's mistaken, however,” said Heffernan, with a sarcastic bitterness
+that came from his heart. “The day for rewards is gone by. He 'll never
+get the baronetcy by supporting the Government in this way. It is the
+precarious, uncertain ally they look more after. There is consummate
+wisdom, Giles, in not saying one's last word. O'Reilly does not seem
+aware of that. Here come Godfrey and Hume,” said he, as he looked out of
+the window. “Burton has sent an apology.”
+
+“And who is our sixth?”
+
+“O'Reilly--and here's his carriage. See how the people stare admiringly
+at his green liveries; they scarcely guess that the owner is meditating
+a change of color. Well, Godfrey, in time for once. Why, Robert, you
+seem quite fagged with your day's exertion. Ah! Mr. O'Reilly, delighted
+to find you punctual. Let me present you to my old friend Sir Giles St.
+George. I believe, gentlemen, you need no introduction to each other.
+Burton has disappointed us; so we may order dinner at once.”
+
+As Mr. Heffernan took the head of the table, not a sign of his former
+chagrin remained to be seen. An air of easy conviviality had entirely
+replaced his previous look of irritation, and in his laughing eye and
+mellow voice there seemed the clearest evidence of a mind perfectly at
+ease, and a spirit well disposed to enjoy the pleasures of the board. Of
+his guests, Godfrey was a leading member of the Irish bar, a man of good
+private fortune and a large practice, who, out of whim rather than from
+any great principle, had placed himself in contiuual opposition to the
+Government, and felt grievously injured and affronted when the minister,
+affecting to overlook his enmity, offered him a silk gown. Hume was a
+Commissioner of Customs, and had been so for some thirty years; his only
+ambition in life being to retire on his full salary, having previously
+filled his department with his sons and grandsons. The gentle
+remonstrances of the Secretary against his plan had made him one of
+the disaffected, but without courage to avow or influence to direct his
+animosity. Of Mr. O'Reilly the reader needs no further mention. Such was
+the party who now sat at a table most luxuriously supplied; for although
+Heffeman was very far from a frequent inviter, yet his dinners were
+admirably arranged, and the excellence of his wine was actually a
+mystery among the _bons vivants_ of the capital. The conversation turned
+of course upon the great event of the day; but so artfully was the
+subject managed by Heffeman that the discussion took rather the shape of
+criticism on the several speakers, and their styles of delivery, than on
+the matter of the meeting itself.
+
+“How eager the Castle folks will be to know all about it!” said
+Godfrey. “Cooke is, I hear, in a sad taking to learn the meaning of the
+gathering.”
+
+“I fancy, sir,” said St. George, “they are more indifferent than you
+suppose. A meeting held by individuals of a certain rank and property,
+and convened with a certain degree of ostentation, can scarcely ever be
+formidable to a government.”
+
+“You forget the Volunteers,” said Heffernan.
+
+“No, I remember their assembling well enough, and a very absurd business
+they made of it. The Bishop of Downe was the only man of nerve amongst
+them; and as for Lord Charlemont, the thought of an attainder was never
+out of his head till the whole association was disbanded.”
+
+“They were very formidable, indeed,” said Heffernan, gravely. “I can
+assure you that the Government were far more afraid of their defenders
+than of the French.”
+
+“A government that is ungrateful enough to neglect its supporters,”
+ chimed in Hume, “men that have spent their best years in _its_ service,
+can scarcely esteem itself very secure. In the department I belong to
+myself, for instance--”
+
+“Yours is a very gross case,” interrupted Heffernan, who from old
+experience knew what was coming, and wished to arrest it.
+
+“Thirty-four years, come November next, have I toiled as a
+commissioner.”
+
+“Unpaid!” exclaimed St. George, with a well-simulated horror,--“unpaid!”
+
+“No, sir; not without my salary, of course. I never heard of any man
+holding an office in the Revenue for the amusement it might afford him.
+Did you, Godfrey?”
+
+“As for me,” said the lawyer, “I spurn their patronage. I well know the
+price men pay for such favors.”
+
+“What object could it be to _you_,” said Heffernan, “to be made
+Attorney-General or placed on the bench, a man independent in every
+seuse? So I said to Castlereagh, when he spoke on the subject: 'Never
+mind Godfrey,' said I, 'he'll refuse your offers; you'll only offend him
+by solicitation;' and when he mentioned the 'Rolls'--”
+
+Here Heffernan paused, and filled his glass leisurely. An interruption
+contrived to stimulate Godfrey's curiosity, and which perfectly
+succeeded, as he asked in a voice of tremulous eagerness,--
+
+“Well, what did you say?”
+
+“Just as I replied before,--'he 'll refuse you.'”
+
+“Quite right, perfectly right; you have my unbounded gratitude for the
+answer,” said Godfrey, swallowing two bumpers as rapidly as he could
+fill them.
+
+“Very different treatment from what I met,--an old and tried supporter
+of the party,” said Hume, turning to O'Reilly and opening upon him the
+whole narrative of his long-suffering neglect.
+
+“It's quite clear, then,” said St. George, “that we are agreed,--the
+best thing for us would be a change of Ministry.”
+
+“I don't think so at all,” interposed Heffernan.
+
+“Why, Con,” interrupted the baronet, “they should have _you_ at any
+price,--however these fellows have learned the trick,--the others know
+nothing about it You 'd be in office before twenty-four hours.”
+
+“So I might to-morrow,” said Heffernan. “There's scarcely a single post
+of high emolument and trust that I have not been offered and refused.
+The only things I ever stipulated for in all my connection with the
+Government were certain favors for my personal friends.” Here he looked
+significantly towards O'Reilly; but the glance was intercepted by the
+commissioner, who cried out,--“Well, could they say I had no claim?
+Could they deny thirty-four years of toil and slavery?”
+
+“And in the case for which I was most interested,” resumed Heffernan,
+not heeding the interruption, “the favor I sought would have been
+more justly bestowed from the rank and merits of the party than as a
+recompense for any sen-ices of mine.”
+
+“I won't say that, Heffernan,” said Hume, with a look of modesty, who
+with the most implicit good faith supposed he was the party alluded
+to; “I won't go that far; but I will and must say, that after
+four-and-thirty years as a commissioner--”
+
+“A man must have laid by a devilish pretty thing for the rest of his
+life,” said St. George, who felt all the bitterness of a narrow income
+augmented by the croaking complaints of the well-salaried official.
+
+“Well, I hope better days are coming for all of us,” said Heffernan,
+desirous of concluding the subject ere it should take an untoward turn.
+
+“You have got a very magnificent seat in the west, sir,” said St.
+George, addressing O'Reilly, who during the whole evening had done
+little more than assent or smile concurrence with the several speakers.
+
+“The finest thing in Ireland,” interrupted Heffernan.
+
+“Nay, that is saying too much,” said O'Reilly, with a look of half-real,
+half-affected bashfulness. “The abbey certainly stands well, and the
+timber is well grown.”
+
+“Are you able to see Clew Bay from the small drawing-room still?--for
+I remember remarking that the larches on the side of the glen would
+eventually intercept the prospect.”
+
+“You know the Abbey, then?” asked O'Reilly, forgetting to answer the
+question addressed to him.
+
+“Oh, I knew it well. My family is connected-distantly, I believe--with
+the Darcys, and in former days we were intimate. A very sweet place
+it was; I am speaking of thirty years ago, and of course it must have
+improved since that.”
+
+“My friend here has given it every possible opportunity,” said
+Heffernan, with a courteous inclination of the head.
+
+“I've no doubt of it,” said St. George; “but neither money nor bank
+securities will make trees grow sixty feet in a twelvemonth. The
+improvements I allude to were made by Maurice Darcy's father; he sunk
+forty thousand pounds in draining, planting, subsoiling, and what not.
+He left a rent-charge in his will to continue his plans; and Maurice and
+his son--what's the young fellow called?--Lionel, isn't it?--well, they
+are, or rather they were, bound to expend a very heavy sum annually on
+the property.”
+
+A theme less agreeable to O'Reilly's feelings could scarcely have been
+started; and though Heffernan saw as much, he did not dare to interrupt
+it suddenly, for fear of any unpalatable remark from St. George. Whether
+from feeling that the subject was a painful one, or that he liked to
+indulge his loquacity in detailing various particulars of the Darcys and
+their family circumstances, the old man went on without ceasing,--now
+narrating some strange caprice of an ancestor in one century, now
+some piece of good fortune that occurred to another. “You know the old
+prophecy in the family, I suppose, Mr. O'Reilly?” said he, “though, to
+be sure, you are not very likely to give it credence.”
+
+“I scarcely can say I remember what you allude to.”
+
+“By Jove, I thought every old woman in the west would have told it to
+you. How is this the doggerel runs--ay, here it is,--
+
+     'A new name in this house shall never begin
+     Till twenty-one Darcys have died in Gwynne.'
+
+Now, they say that, taking into account all of the family who have
+fallen in battle, been lost at sea, and so on, only eleven of the stock
+died at the Abbey.”
+
+Although O'Reilly affected to smile at the old rhyme, his cheek became
+deadly pale, and his hand shook as he lifted the glass to his lips. It
+was no vulgar sense of fear, no superstitious dread that moved his cold
+and calculating spirit, but an emotion of suppressed anger that the
+ancient splendor of the Darcys should be thus placed side by side with
+his own unhonored and unknown family.
+
+“I don't think I ever knew one of these good legends have even so much
+of truth,--though the credit is now at an end,” said Heffernau, gayly.
+
+“I'll engage old Darcy's butler wouldn't agree with you,” replied
+St. George. “Ay, and Maurice himself had a great dash of old Irish
+superstition in him, for a clever, sensible fellow as he was.”
+
+“It only remains for my friend here, then, to fit up a room for the
+Darcys and invite them to die there at their several conveniences,” said
+Con, laughing. “I see no other mode of fulfilling the destiny.”
+
+“There never was a man played his game worse,” resumed St. George, who
+with a pertinacious persistence continued the topic. “He came of age
+with a large unencumbered estate, great family influence, and a very
+fair share of abilities. It was the fashion to say he had more, but I
+never thought so; and now, look at him!”
+
+“He had very heavy losses at play,” said Heffernan, “certainly.”
+
+“What if he had? They never could have materially affected a fortune
+like his. No, no. I believe 'Honest Tom' finished him,--raising money to
+pay off old debts, and then never clearing away the liabilities. What a
+stale trick, and how invariably it succeeds!”
+
+“You do not seem, sir, to take into account an habitually expensive mode
+of living,” insinuated O'Reilly, quietly.
+
+“An item, of course, but only an item in the sum total,” replied St.
+George. “No man can eat and drink above ten thousand a year, and Darcy
+had considerably more. No; he might have lived as he pleased, had he
+escaped the acquaintance of honest Tom Gleeson. By the by, Con, is there
+any truth in the story they tell about this fellow, and that he really
+was more actuated by a feeling of revenge towards Darcy than a desire
+for money?”
+
+“I never heard the story. Did you, Mr. O'Reilly?” asked Heffernan.
+
+“Never,” said O'Reilly, affecting an air of unconcern, very ill
+consorting with his pale cheek and anxious eye.
+
+“The tale is simply this: that, as Gleeson waxed wealthy, and began to
+assume a position in life, he one day called on the Knight to request
+him to put his name up for ballot at 'Daly's.' Darcy was thunderstruck,
+for it was in those days when the Club was respectable; but still
+the Knight had tact enough to dissemble his astonishment, and would
+doubtless have got through the difficulty had it not been for Bagenal
+Daly, who was present, and called out, 'Wait till Tuesday, Maurice, for
+I mean to propose M'Cleery, the breeches-maker, and then the thing won't
+seem so remarkable!' Gleeson smiled and slipped away, with an oath to
+his own heart, to be revenged on both of them. If there be any truth in
+the story, he did ruin Daly, by advising some money-lender to buy up all
+his liabilities.”
+
+“I must take the liberty to correct you, sir,” said O'Reilly, actually
+trembling with anger. “If your agreeable anecdote has no better
+foundation than the concluding hypothesis, its veracity is inferior to
+its ingenuity. The gentleman you are pleased to call a money-lender is
+my father; the conduct you allude to was simply the advance of a large
+sum on mortgage.”
+
+“Foreclosed, like Darcy's, perhaps,” said St. George, his irascible face
+becoming blood-red with passion.
+
+“Come, come, Giles, you really can know nothing of the subject you are
+talking of; besides, to Mr. O'Reilly the matter is a personal one.”
+
+“So it is,” muttered St. George; “and if report speaks truly, as
+unpleasant as personal.”
+
+This insulting remark was not heard by O'Reilly, who was deeply engaged
+in explaining to the lawyer beside him the minute legal details of the
+circumstance.
+
+“Shrewd a fellow as Gleeson was,” said St. George, interrupting
+O'Reilly, by addressing the lawyer, “they say he has left some flaw open
+in the matter, and that Darcy may recover a very large portion of the
+lost estate.”
+
+“Yes; if for instance this bond should be destroyed. He might move in
+Equity--”
+
+“He 'd move heaven and earth, sir, if it's Bagenal Daly you mean,” said
+St. George, who had stimulated his excitement by drinking freely. “Some
+will tell you that he is a steadfast, firm friend; but I 'll vouch for
+it, a more determined enemy never drew breath.”
+
+“Very happily for the world we live in, sir,” said O'Reilly, “there are
+agencies more powerful than the revengeful and violent natures of such
+men as Mr. Daly.”
+
+“He's every jot as quick-sighted as he's determined; and when he wagered
+a hogshead of claret that Darcy would one day sit again at the head of
+his table in Gwynne Abbey--”
+
+“Did he make such a bet?” asked O'Reilly, with a faint laugh.
+
+“Yes; he walked down the club-room, and offered it to any one present,
+and none seemed to fancy it; but young Kelly, of Kildare, who, being a
+new member just come in, perhaps thought there might be some _éclat_ in
+booking a bet with Bagenal Daly.”
+
+“Would you like to back his opinion, sir?” said O'Reilly, with a
+simulated softness of voice; “or although I rarely wager, I should have
+no objection to convenience you here, leaving the amount entirely at
+your option.”
+
+“Which means,” said St. George, as his eyes sparkled with wine and
+passion, “that the weight of _your_ purse is to tilt the beam against
+that of _my_ opinion. Now, I beg leave to tell you--”
+
+“Let me interrupt you, Giles; I never knew my Burgundy disagree with any
+man before, but I d smash every bottle of it to-morrow if I thought it
+could make so pleasant a fellow so wrong-headed and unreasonable. What
+say you if we qualify it with some cognac and water?”
+
+“Maurice Darcy is my relative,” said St. George, pushing his glass
+rudely from him, “and I have yet to learn the unreasonableness of
+wishing well to a member of one's own family. His father and mine were
+like brothers! Ay, by Jove! I wonder what either of them would think of
+the changes time has wrought in their sons' fortunes.” His voice dropped
+into a low, muttering sound, while he mumbled on, “One a beggar and an
+exile, the other”--here his eye twinkled with a malicious intelligence
+as he glanced around the board--“the other the guest of Con Heffernan.”
+ He arose as he spoke, and fortunately the noise thus created prevented
+his words being overheard. “You 're right, Con,” said he, “that Burgundy
+has been too much for me. The wine is unimpeachable, notwithstanding.”
+
+The others rose also; although pressed in all the customary hospitality
+of the period to have “one bottle more,” they were resolute in taking
+leave, doubtless not sorry to escape the risk of any unpleasant
+termination to the evening's entertainment.
+
+The lawyer and the commissioner agreed to see St. George home; for
+although long seasoned to excesses, age had begun to tell upon him, and
+his limbs were scarcely more under control than his tongue. O'Reilly had
+dropped his handkerchief, he was not sure whether in the drawing or the
+dinner room, and this delayed him a few moments behind the rest; and
+although he declared, at each moment, the loss of no consequence, and
+repeated his “good-night,” Heffernan held his hand and would not suffer
+him to leave.
+
+“Try under Mr. O'Reilly's chair, Thomas.--Singular specimen of a by-gone
+day, the worthy baronet!” said he, with a shrug of his shoulders. “Would
+you believe it, he and Darcy have not been on speaking terms for thirty
+years, and yet how irritable be showed himself in his behalf!”
+
+“He seems to know something of the family affairs, however,” said
+O'Reilly, cautiously.
+
+“Not more than club gossip; all that about Daly and his wager is a week
+old.”
+
+“I hope my father may never hear it,” said O'Reilly, compassionately;
+“he has all the irritability of age, and these reports invariably urge
+him on to harsh measures, which, by the least concession, he would
+never have pursued. The Darcys, indeed, have to thank themselves for
+any severity they have experienced at our hands. Teasing litigation and
+injurious reports of us have met all our efforts at conciliation.”
+
+“A compromise would have been much better, and more reputable for
+all parties,” said Heffernan, as he turned to stir the fire, and thus
+purposely averted his face while making the remark.
+
+“So it would,” said O'Reilly, hurriedly; then stopping abruptly short,
+he stammered out, “I don't exactly know what you mean by the word, but
+if it implies a more amicable settlement of all disputed points between
+us, I perfectly agree with you.”
+
+Heffernan never spoke: a look of cool self-possession and significance
+was all his reply. It seemed to say, “Don't hope to cheat _me_; however,
+you may rely on my discretion.”
+
+“I declare my handkerchief is in my pocket all this while,” said
+O'Reilly, trying to conceal his rising confusion with a laugh.
+“Good-night, once more--you 're thinking of going over to England
+to-morrow evening?”
+
+“Yes, if the weather permits, I 'll sail at seven. Can I be of any
+service to you?”
+
+“Perhaps so: I may trouble you with a commission. Good-night.”
+
+“So, Mr. Hickman, you begin to feel the hook! Now let us see if we
+cannot play the fish without letting him know the weakness of the
+tackle!” said Heffernan, as he looked after him, and then slowly
+retraced his steps to the now deserted drawing-room.
+
+“How frequently will chance play the game more skilfully for us than all
+our cleverness!” said he, while he paced the room alone. “That old bear,
+St. George, who might have ruined everything, has done me good service.
+O'Reilly's suspicions are awakened, his fears are aroused; could I only
+find a clew to his terror, I could hold him as fast by his fears as by
+this same baronetcy. This baronetcy,” added he, with a sneering laugh,
+“that I am to negotiate for, and--be refused!”
+
+With this sentiment of honest intentions on his lips, Mr. Heffernan
+retired to rest, and, if this true history is to be credited, to sleep
+soundly till morning.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVI. PAUL DEMPSEY'S WALK
+
+With the most eager desire to accomplish his mission, Paul Dempsey did
+not succeed in reaching “The Corvy” until late on the day after Miss
+Daly's visit. He set out originally by paths so secret and circuitous
+that he lost his way, and was obliged to pass his night among the hills,
+where, warned by the deep thundering of the sea that the cliffs were
+near, he was fain to await daybreak ere he ventured farther. The
+trackless waste over which his way led was no bad emblem of poor Paul's
+mind, as, cowering beneath a sand-hill, he shivered through the long
+hours of night. Swayed by various impulses, he could determine on no
+definite line of action, and wavered and doubted and hesitated, till his
+very brain was addled by its operations.
+
+At one moment he was disposed, like good Launcelot Gobbo, to “run for
+it,” and, leaving Darcy and all belonging to him to their several fates,
+to provide for his own safety; when suddenly a dim vision of meeting
+Maria Daly in this world or the next, and being called to account for
+his delinquency, routed such determinations. Then he revelled in the
+glorious opportunity for gossip afforded by the whole adventure. How he
+should astonish Coleraine and its neighborhood by his revelations of
+the Knight and his family! Gossip in all its moods and tenses, from
+the vague indicative of mere innuendo, to the full subjunctive of open
+defamation! Not indeed that Mr. Dempsey loved slander for itself; on
+the contrary, his temperament was far more akin to kindliness than its
+opposite; but the passion for retailing one's neighbor's foibles or
+misfortunes is an impulse that admits no guidance; and as the gambler
+would ruin his best friend at play, so would the professed gossip
+calumniate the very nearest and dearest to him on earth. There are in
+the social as in the mercantile world characters who never deal in the
+honest article of commerce, but have a store of damaged, injured, or
+smuggled goods, to be hawked about surreptitiously, and always to be
+sold in the “strictest secrecy.” Mr. Dempsey was a pedler in this wise,
+and, if truth must be told, he did not dislike his trade.
+
+And yet, at moments, thoughts of another and more tender kind were
+wafted across Paul's mind, not resting indeed long enough to make any
+deep impression, but still leaving behind them, as pleasant thoughts
+always will, little twilights of happiness. Paul had been touched--a
+mere graze, skin deep, but still touched--by Helen Darcy's beauty and
+fascinations. She had accompanied him more than once on the piano while
+he sang, and whether the long-fringed eyelashes and the dimpled cheek
+had done the mischief, or that the thoughtful tact with which she
+displayed Paul's good notes and glossed over his false ones had won his
+gratitude, certain is it he had already felt a very sensible regard for
+the young lady, and more than once caught himself, when thinking about
+her, speculating on the speedy demise of Bob Dempsey, of Dempsey's
+Grove, and all the consequences that might ensue therefrom.
+
+If the enjoyment Mr. Dempsey's various peculiarities afforded Helen
+suggested on her part the semblance of pleasure in his society, Paul
+took these indications all in his own favor, and even catechized himself
+how far he might be deemed culpable in winning the affections of a
+charming young lady, so long as his precarious condition forbid all
+thought of matrimony. Now, however, that he knew who the family really
+were, such doubts were much allayed; for, as he wisely remarked to
+himself, “Though they are ruined, there 's always nice picking in the
+wreck of an Indiaman!” Such were the thoughts by which his way was
+beguiled, when late in the afternoon he reached “The Corvy.”
+
+Lady Eleanor and her daughter were out walking when Mr. Dempsey arrived,
+and, having cautiously reconnoitred the premises, ventured to approach
+the door. All was quiet and tranquil about the cottage; so, reassured by
+this, he peered through the window into the large hall, where a cheerful
+fire now blazed and shed a mellow glow over the strange decorations of
+the chamber. Mr. Dempsey had often desired an opportunity of examining
+these curiosities at his leisure. Not indeed prompted thereto by any
+antiquarian taste, but, from a casual glance at the inscriptions, he
+calculated on the amount of private history of the Dalys he should
+obtain. Stray and independent facts, it is true, but to be arranged by
+the hand of a competent and clever commentator.
+
+With cautious hand he turned the handle of the door and entered.
+
+There he stood, in the very midst of the coveted objects; and never did
+humble bookworm gaze on the rich titles of an ample library with more
+enthusiastic pleasure. He drew a long breath to relieve his overburdened
+heart, and glutted his eyes in ecstasy on every side. Enthusiasm takes
+its tone from individuality, and doubtless Mr. Dempsey felt at that
+moment something as Belzoni might, when, unexpectedly admitted within
+some tomb of the Pyramids, he found himself about to unravel some secret
+history of the Pharaohs.
+
+“Now for it,” said he, half aloud; “let us do the thing in order; and
+first of all, what have we here?” He stooped and read an inscription
+attached to a velvet coat embroidered with silver,--
+
+“Coat worn by B. D. in his duel with Colonel Matthews,--62,--the
+puncture under the sword-arm being a tierce outside the guard; a very
+rare point, and which cost the giver seriously.”
+
+“He killed Matthews, of course,” added Dempsey; “the passage can mean
+nothing else, so let us be accurate as to fact and date.”
+
+So saying, he proceeded to note down the circumstance in a little
+memorandum-book. “So!” added he, as he read his note over; “now for the
+next. What can this misshapen lump of metal mean?”
+
+“A piece of brute gold, presented with twelve female slaves by the
+chiefs of Doolawochyeekeka on B. D.'s assuming the sovereignty of the
+island.”
+
+“Brute gold,” said Mr. Dempsey; “devilish little of the real thing
+about it, I'll be sworn! I suppose the ladies were about equally refined
+and valuable.”
+
+“Glove dropped by the Infanta Donna Isidore within the arena at Madrid,
+a few moments after Ruy Peres da Castres was gored to death.”
+
+A prolonged low whistle from Mr. Dempsey was the only comment he made on
+this inscription; while he stooped to examine the fragment of a bull's
+horn, from which a rag of scarlet cloth was hanging. The inscription
+ran, “Portion of horn broken as the bull fell against the barrier of the
+circus. The cloth was part of Da Castres' vest.”
+
+A massive antique helmet, of immense size and weight, lay on the floor
+beside this. It was labelled, “Casque of Rudolf v. Hapsbourg, presented
+to B. D. after the tilt at Regensburg by Edric Conrad Wilhelm Kur Furst
+von Bavera, a.d. 1750.”
+
+A splendid goblet of silver gilt, beautifully chased and ornamented, was
+inscribed on the metal as being the gift of the Doge of Venice to his
+friend Bagenal Daly; and underneath was written on a card, “This cup
+was drained to the bottom at a draught by B. D. after a long and deep
+carouse, the liquor strong 'Vino di Cypro.' The Doge tried it and
+failed; the mark within shows how far he drank.”
+
+“By Jove! what a pull!” exclaimed Dempsey, who, as he peered into
+the capacious vessel, looked as if he would not object to try his own
+prowess at the feat.
+
+Wonderment at this last achievement seemed completely to have taken
+possession of Mr. Dempsey; for while his eyes ranged over weapons
+of every strange form and shape,--armor, idols, stuffed beasts and
+birds,--they invariably came back to the huge goblet with an admiring
+wonder that showed that here at least there was an exploit whose merits
+he could thoroughly appreciate.
+
+“A half-gallon can is nothing to it!” muttered he, as he replaced it on
+its bracket.
+
+The reflection was scarcely uttered, when the quick tramp of a horse and
+the sound of wheels without startled him. He hastened to the window just
+in time to perceive a jaunting-car drive up to the wicket, from which
+three men descended. Two were common-looking fellows in dark upper
+coats and glazed hats; the third, better dressed, and with a
+half-gentlemanlike air, seemed the superior. He threw off a loose
+travelling-coat, and discovered, to Mr. Dempsey's horror, the features
+of his late patient at Larne, the sheriff's officer from Dublin. Yes,
+there was no doubt about it. That smart, conceited look, the sharp and
+turned-up nose, the scrubby whisker, proclaimed him as the terrible
+Anthony Nickie, of Jervas Street, a name which Mr. Dempsey had read on
+his portmanteau before guessing how its owner was concerned in his own
+interests.
+
+What a multitude of terrors jostled each other in his mind as the men
+approached the door, and what resolves did he form and abandon in the
+same moment! To escape by the rear of the house while the enemy was
+assailing the front, to barricade the premises and stand a siege, to arm
+himself--and there was a choice of weapons--and give battle, were all
+rapid impulses no sooner conceived than given up. A loud summons of the
+door-bell announced his presence; and ere the sounds died away, Tate's
+creaking footstep and winter cough resounded along the corridor. Mr.
+Dempsey threw a last despairing glance around, and the thought flashed
+across him, how happily would he exchange his existence with any of the
+grim images and uncouth shapes that grinned and glared on every side,
+ay, even with that saw-mouthed crocodile that surmounted the chimney!
+Quick as his eye traversed the chamber, he fancied that the savage
+animals were actually enjoying his misery, and Sandy's counterpart
+appeared to show a diabolical glee at his wretched predicament. It
+was at this instant he caught sight of the loose folds of the Indian
+blanket, which enveloped Bagenal Daly's image. The danger was too
+pressing for hesitation; he stepped into the canoe, and cowering down
+under the warlike figure, awaited his destiny. Scarcely had the drapery
+closed around him when Tate admitted the new arrival.
+
+“'The Corvy? '“ said Mr. Nickie to the old butler, who with decorous
+ceremony bowed low before him. “'The Corvy,' ain't it?”
+
+“Yes, sir,” replied Tate.
+
+“All right, Mac,” resumed Nickie, turning to the elder of his two
+followers, who had closely dogged him to the door. “Bring that
+carpet-bag and the small box off the car, and tell the fellow he 'll
+have time to feed his horse at that cabin on the road-side.”
+
+He added something in a whisper, too low for Tate to hear, and then,
+taking the carpet-bag, he flung it carelessly in a corner, while he
+walked forward and deposited the box on the table before the fire.
+
+“His honor is coming to dine, maybe?” asked Tate, respectfully; for old
+habit of his master's hospitality had made the question almost a matter
+of course, while age had so dimmed his eyesight that even Anthony Nickie
+passed with him for a gentleman.
+
+“Coming to dine,” repeated Nickie, with a coarse laugh; “that's a
+bargain there 's always two words to, my old boy. I suppose you 've
+heard it is manners to wait to be asked, eh?--without,” added he, after
+a second's pause,--“without I 'm to take this as an invitation.”
+
+“I believe your honor might, then,” said Tate, with a smile. “'Tis many
+a one I kept again the family came home for dinner, and sorrow word of
+it they knew till they seen them dressed in the drawing-room! And the
+dinner-table!” said Tate, with a sigh, half in regret over the past,
+half preparing himself with a sufficiency of breath for a lengthened
+oration,-“the dinner-table! it's wishing it I am still! After laying for
+ten, or maybe twelve, his honor would come in and say, 'Tate, we 'll be
+rather crowded here, for here 's Sir Gore Molony and his family. You 'll
+have to make room for five more.' Then Miss Helen would come springing
+in with, 'Tate, I forgot to say Colonel Martin and his officers are to
+be here at dinner.' After that it would be my lady herself, in her own
+quiet way, 'Mr. Sullivan,'-she nearly always called me that,--'could n't
+you contrive a little space here for Lady Burke and Miss MacDonnel? But
+the captain beat all, for he 'd come in after the soup was removed, with
+five or six gentlemen from the hunt, splashed and wet up to their necks;
+over he 'd go to the side-table, where I 'd have my knives and forks,
+all beautiful, and may I never but he 'd fling some here, others there,
+till he 'd clear a space away, and then he'd cry, 'Tate, bring back the
+soup, and set some sherry here.' Maybe that wasn't the table for
+noise, drinking wine with every one at the big table, and telling such
+wonderful stories that the servants did n't know what they were doing,
+listening to them. And the master--the heavens be about him!--sending me
+over to get the names of the gentlemen, that he might ask them to take
+wine with him. Oh, dear--oh, dear, I 'm sure I used to think my heart
+was broke with it; but sure it's nigher breaking now that it's all past
+and over.”
+
+“You seem to have had very jolly times of it in those days,” said
+Nickie.
+
+“Faix, your honor might say so if you saw forty-eight sitting down
+to dinner every day in the parlor for seven weeks running; and Master
+Lionel--the captain that is--at the head of another table in the
+library, with twelve or fourteen more,--nice youths they wor!”
+
+While Tate continued his retrospections, Mr. Nickie had unlocked his
+box, and cursorily throwing a glance over some papers, he muttered to
+himself a few words, and then added aloud,--“Now for business.”
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVII. MR. ANTHONY NICKIE, ATTORNEY-AT-LAW.
+
+We have said that Mr. Dempsey had barely time to conceal himself when
+the door was opened,--so narrow indeed was his escape, that had the new
+arrival been a second sooner, discovery would have been inevitable; as
+it was, the pictorial Daly and Sandy rocked violently to and fro, making
+their natural ferocity and grimness something even more terrible than
+usual. Mr. Nickie remarked nothing of this. His first care was to divest
+himself of certain travelling encumbrances, like one who proposes to
+make a visit of some duration, and then, casting a searching look around
+the premises, he proceeded,--
+
+“Now for Mr. Darcy--”
+
+“If ye 'r maning the Knight of Gwynne, sir, his honor--”
+
+“Well, is his honor at home?” said the other, interrupting with a saucy
+laugh.
+
+“No, sir,” said Tate, almost overpowered at the irreverence of his
+questioner.
+
+“When do you expect him, then,--in an hour or two hours?”
+
+“He 's in England,” said Tate, drawing a long breath.
+
+“In England! What do you mean, old fellow? He has surely not left this
+lately?”
+
+“Yes, sir, 'twas the King sent for him, I heerd the mistress say.”
+
+A burst of downright laughter from the stranger stopped poor Tate's
+explanation.
+
+“Why, it's _you_ his Majesty ought to have invited,” cried Mr. Nickie,
+wiping his eyes, “_you yourself_, man; devilish fit company for each
+other you 'd be.”
+
+Poor Tate had not the slightest idea of the grounds on which the
+stranger suggested his companionship for royalty, but he was not the
+less insulted at the disparagement of his master thus implied.
+
+“'T is little I know about kings or queens,” growled out the old man,
+“but they must be made of better clay than ever I seen yet, or they 're
+not too good company for the Knight of Gwynne.”
+
+After a stare for some seconds, half surprise, half insolence, Nickie
+said, “You can tell me, perhaps, if this cottage is called 'The Corvy'?”
+
+“Ay, that's the name of it.”
+
+“The property of one Bagenal Daly, Esquire, isn't it?”
+
+Tate nodded an assent.
+
+“Maybe he is in England too,” continued Nickie. “Perhaps it was the
+Queen sent for him,--he 's a handsome man, I suppose?”
+
+“Faix, you can judge for yourself,” said Tate, “for there he is, looking
+at you this minute.”
+
+Nickie turned about hastily, while a terrible fear shot through him that
+his remarks might have been heard by the individual himself; for, though
+a stranger to Daly personally, he was not so to his reputation for
+hare-brained daring and rashness, nor was it till he had stared at the
+wooden representative for some seconds that he could dispel his dread of
+the original.
+
+“Is that like him?” asked he, affecting a sneer.
+
+“As like as two pays,” said Tate, “barring about the eyes; Mr. Daly's
+is brighter and more wild-looking. The Blessed Joseph be near us!”
+ exclaimed the old man, crossing himself devoutly, “one would think the
+crayture knew what we were saying. Sorra lie in 't, there 's neither
+luck nor grace in talking about you!”
+
+This last sentiment, uttered in a faint voice, was called forth by an
+involuntary shuddering of poor Mr. Dempsey, who, feeling that the whole
+scrutiny of the party was directed towards his hiding-place, trembled so
+violently that the plumes nodded, and the bone necklace jingled with the
+motion.
+
+While Mr. Nickie attributed these signs to the wind, he at the same
+time conceived a very low estimate of poor Tate's understanding,--an
+impression not altogether un-warranted by the sidelong and stealthy
+looks which he threw at the canoe and its occupants.
+
+“You seem rather afraid of Mr. Daly,” said he, with a sneering laugh.
+
+“And so would you be, too, if he was as near you as that chap is,”
+ replied Tate, sternly. “I 've known braver-looking men than either of us
+not like to stand before him. I mind the day--”
+
+Tate-s reminiscences were brought to a sudden stop by perceiving his
+mistress and Miss Darcy approaching the cottage; and hastening forward,
+he threw open the door, while by way of introduction he said,--
+
+“A gentleman for the master, my Lady.”
+
+Lady Eleanor flushed up, and as suddenly grew pale. She guessed at once
+the man and his errand.
+
+“The Knight of Gwynne is from home, sir,” said she, in a voice her
+efforts could not render firm.
+
+“I understand as much, madam,” said Nickie, who was struggling to
+recover the easy self-possession of his manner with the butler, but
+whose awkwardness increased at every instant. “I believe you expect him
+in a day or two?”
+
+This was said to elicit if there might be some variance in the statement
+of Lady Eleanor and her servant.
+
+“You are misinformed, sir. He is not in the kingdom, nor do I anticipate
+his speedy return.”
+
+“So I told him, my Lady,” broke in the old butler. “I said the King
+wanted him--”
+
+“You may leave the room, Tate,” said Lady Eleanor, who perceived with
+annoyance the sneering expression old Tate's simplicity had called up in
+the stranger's face. “Now, sir,” said she, turning towards him, “may I
+ask if your business with the Knight of Gwynne is of that nature that
+cannot be transacted in his absence or through his law agent?”
+
+“Scarcely, madam,” said Nickie, with a sententious gravity, who, in the
+vantage-ground his power gave him, seemed rather desirous of prolonging
+the interview. “Mr. Darcy's part can scarcely be performed by deputy,
+even if he found any one friendly enough to undertake it.”
+
+Lady Eleanor never spoke, but her hand grasped her daughter's more
+closely, and they both stood pale and trembling with agitation. Helen
+was the first to rally from this access of terror, and with an assured
+voice she said,--
+
+“You have heard, sir, that the Knight of Gwynne is absent; and as you
+say your business is with him alone, is there any further reason for
+your presence here?”
+
+Mr. Nickie seemed for a moment taken aback by this unexpected speech,
+and for a few seconds made no answer; his nature and his calling,
+however, soon supplied presence of mind, and with an air of almost
+insolent familiarity he answered,--
+
+“Perhaps there may be, young lady.” He turned, and opening the door,
+gave a sharp whistle, which was immediately responded to by a cry of
+“Here we are, sir,” and the two followers already mentioned entered the
+cottage.
+
+“You may have heard of such a thing as an execution, ma'am,” said
+Nickie, addressing Lady Eleanor, in a voice of mock civility, “the
+attachment of property for debt. This is part of my business at the
+present moment.”
+
+“Do you mean here, sir--in this cottage?” asked Lady Eleanor, in an
+accent scarcely audible from terror.
+
+“Yes, ma'am, just so. The law allows fourteen days for redemption, with
+payment of costs, until which time these men here will remain on the
+premises; and although these gimcracks will scarcely pay my client's
+costs, we must only make the best of it.”
+
+“But this property is not ours, sir. This cottage belongs to a friend.”
+
+“I am aware of that, ma'am. And that friend is about to answer for his
+own sins on the present occasion, and not yours. These chattels are
+attached as the property of Bagenal Daly, Esquire, at the suit of Peter
+Hickman, formerly of Loughrea, surgeon and apothecary.”
+
+“Is Mr. Daly aware-does he know of these proceedings?” gasped Lady
+Eleanor, faintly.
+
+“In the multiplicity of similar affairs, ma'am, it is quite possible he
+may have let this one escape his memory; for if I don't mistake, he
+has two actions pending in the King's Bench, an answer in equity, three
+cases of common assault, and a contempt ol court,--all upon his hands
+for this present session, not to speak of what this may portend.”
+
+Here he took a newspaper from his pocket, and having doubled down a
+paragraph, handed it to Lady Eleanor.
+
+Overwhelmed by grief and astonishment, she made no motion to take the
+paper, and Mr. Nickie, turning to Helen, read aloud,--
+
+'“There is a rumor prevalent in the capital this morning, to which we
+cannot, in the present uncertainty as to fact, make any more than a
+guarded allusion. It is indeed one of those strange reports which we can
+neither credit nor reject,--the only less probable thing than its truth
+being that any one could deliberately fabricate so foul a calumny. The
+story in its details we forbear to repeat; the important point, however,
+is to connect the name of a well-known and eccentric late M. P. for an
+Irish borough with the malicious burning of Newgate, and the subsequent
+escape of the robber Freney.
+
+“'The reasons alleged for this most extraordinary act are so marvellous,
+absurd, and contradictory that we will not trifle with our readers'
+patience by recounting them. The most generally believed one, however,
+is, that the senator and the highwayman had maintained, for years past,
+an intercourse of a very confidential nature, the threat to reveal
+which, on his trial, Freney used as compulsory means of procuring his
+escape.'
+
+“Carrick goes further,” added Mr. Nickie, as he restored the paper to
+his pocket, “and gives the name of Bagenal Daly, Esq., in full; stating,
+besides, that he sailed for Halifax on Sunday last.”
+
+Lady Eleanor and Helen exchanged looks of intelligent meaning, as he
+finished the paragraph. To them Daly's hurried departure had a most
+significant importance.
+
+“This, ma'am, among other reasons,” resumed Nickie, “was another hint to
+my client to press his claim; for Mr. Daly's departure once known, there
+would soon be a scramble for the little remnant of his property. With
+your leave, I 'll now put the keepers in possession. Perhaps you 'll not
+be offended,” added he, in a lower tone, “if I remark that it's usual to
+offer the men some refreshment. Come here, M'Dermot,” said he, aloud,-“a
+very respectable man, and married, too,--the ladies will make you
+comfortable, Mick, and I 'm sure you 'll be civil and obliging.”
+
+A grunt and a gesture with both hands was the answer.
+
+“Falls, we'll station you in the kitchen; mind you behave yourself.
+
+“I 'll just take a slight inventory of the principal things,--a mere
+matter of form, ma'am,--I know you 'll not remove one of them,” said Mr.
+Nickie, who, like most coarsely minded people, was never more offensive
+than when seeking to be complimentary. He did not notice, however,
+the indignant look with which his speech was received, but proceeded
+regularly in his office.
+
+There is something insupportably offensive and revolting in the
+business-like way of those who execute the severities of the law. Like
+the undertaker, they can sharpen the pangs of misfortune by vulgarizing
+its sorrows. Lady Eleanor gazed, in but half-consciousness, at
+the scene; the self-satisfied assurance of the chief, the ruffian
+contented-ness of his followers, grating on every prejudice of her mind.
+Not so Helen; more quick to reason on impressions, she took in, at a
+glance, their sad condition, and saw that, in a few days at furthest,
+they should be houseless as well as friendless in the world,--no one
+near to counsel or to succor them! Such were her thoughts as almost
+mechanically her eyes followed the sheriff's officer through the
+chamber.
+
+“Not that, sir,” cried she, hastily, as he stopped in front of a
+miniature of her father, and was noting it down in his list, among the
+objects of the apartment,--“not that, sir.”
+
+“And why not, miss?” said Nickie, with a leer of impudent familiarity.
+
+“It is a portrait of the Knight of Gwynne, sir, and _our_ property.”
+
+“Sorry for it, miss, but the law makes no distinction with regard to
+property on the premises. You can always recover by a replevin.”
+
+“Come, Helen, let us leave this,” said Lady Eleanor, faintly; “come
+away, child.”
+
+“You said, sir,” said Helen, turning hastily about,--“you said, sir,
+that these proceedings were taken at the suit of Dr. Hickman. Was it his
+desire that we should be treated thus?”
+
+“Upon my word, young lady, he gave no special directions on the subject,
+nor, if he had, would it signify much. The law, once set in motion, must
+take its course; I suppose you know that.”
+
+Helen did not hear his speech out, for, yielding to her mother, she
+quitted the apartment.
+
+Mr. Nickie stood for a few moments gazing at the door by which they had
+made their exit, and then, turning towards M'Dermot, with a knowing wink
+he said, “We'll be better friends before we part, I 'll engage, little
+as she likes me now.”
+
+“Faix, I never seen yer equal at getting round them,” answered the sub,
+in a voice of fawning flattery, the very opposite of his former gruff
+tone.
+
+“That's the way I always begin, when they take a saucy way with them,”
+ resumed Nickie, who felt evidently pleased at the other's admiration.
+“And when they 're brought down a bit to a sense of their situation, I
+can just be as kind as I was cruel.”
+
+“Never fear ye!” said M'Dermot, with a sententious shake of the head.
+“Devil a taste of her would lave the room, if it wasn't for the mother.”
+
+“I saw that plain enough,” said Nickie, as he threw a self-approving
+look at himself in a tall mirror opposite.
+
+“She's a fine young girl, there's no denying it,” said M'Dermot, who
+anticipated, as the result of his chief's attention, a more liberal
+scale of treatment for himself. “But I don't know how ye 'll ever get
+round her, though to be sure if _you_ can't, who can?”
+
+“This inventory will keep me till night,” said Nickie, changing the
+theme quite suddenly, “and I'll miss Dempsey, I 'm afraid.”
+
+“I hope not; sure you have his track,--haven't you?”
+
+“Yes, and I have four fellows after him, along the shore here, but they
+say he 's cunning as a fox. Well, I 'll not give him up in a hurry,
+that's all. Is that rain I hear against the glass, Mick?”
+
+“Ay, and dreadful rain too!” said the other, peeping through the window,
+which now rattled and shook with a sudden squall of wind. “You 'll not
+be able to leave this so late.”
+
+“So I 'm thinking, Mick,” said Nickie, laying down his
+writing-materials, and turning his back to the fire; “I believe I must
+stay where I am.”
+
+“'T is yourself is the boy!” cried Mick, with a look of admiration at
+his master.
+
+“You 're wrong, Mick,” said he, with a scarce repressed smile, “all
+wrong; I wasn't thinking of her.”
+
+“Maybe not,” said M'Dermot, shaking his head doubtfully; “maybe she's
+not thinking of you this minute! But, afther all, I don't know how ye
+'ll do it. Any one would say the vardic was again you.”
+
+“So it is, man, but can't we move for a new trial?” So saying, he turned
+suddenly about, and pulled the bell.
+
+M'Dermot said nothing, but stood staring at his chief, with a
+well-feigned expression of wonderment, as though to say, “What is he
+going to do next?”
+
+The summons was speedily answered by old Tate, who stood in respectful
+attention within the door. Not the slightest suspicion had crossed the
+butler's mind of Mr. Nickie's calling, or of his object with the
+Knight, or his manner would certainly have displayed a very different
+politeness. “Didn't you ring, sir?” said he, with a bow to Nickie, who
+now seemed vacillating, and uncertain how to proceed.
+
+“Yes--I did--ring--the--bell,” replied he, hesitating between each
+word of the sentence. “I was about to say that, as the night was so
+severe,--a perfect hurricane it seems,--I should remain here. Eh, did
+you speak?”
+
+“No, sir,” replied Tate, respectfully.
+
+“You can inform your mistress, then, and say, with Mr. Nickie's
+respectful compliments,-mind that!--that if they have no objection, he
+would be happy to join them at supper.”
+
+Tate stood as if transfixed, not a sign of anger, not even of surprise
+in his features. The shock had actually stupefied him.
+
+“Do ye hear what the gentleman 's saying to you?” asked Mick, in a stern
+voice.
+
+“Sir?” said Tate, endeavoring to recover his routed faculties,--“sir?”
+
+“Tell the old fool what I said,” muttered Nickie, with angry impatience;
+and then, as if remembering that his message might possibly be not
+over-courteously worded by Mr. M'Dennot, he approached Tate, and said,
+“Give your mistress Mr. Nickie's compliments, and say that, not being
+able to return to Coleraine, he hopes he may be permitted to pass the
+evening with her and Miss Darcy.” This message, uttered with
+great rapidity, as if the speaker dare not trust himself with more
+deliberation, was accompanied by a motion of the hand, which half pushed
+the old butler from the room.
+
+Neither Mr. Nickie nor his subordinate exchanged a word during Tate's
+absence. The former, indeed, seemed far less confident of his success
+than at first, and M'Dermot waited the issue, for his cue what part to
+take in the transaction.
+
+If Tate's countenance, when he left the room, exhibited nothing but
+confusion and bewilderment, when he reentered it his looks were composed
+and steadfast.
+
+“Well?” said Nickie, as the old butler stood for a second without
+speaking,--“well?”
+
+“Her Ladyship says that you and the other men, sir, may receive any
+accommodation the house affords.” He paused for a moment or two, and
+then added, “Her Ladyship declines Mr. Nickie's society.”
+
+“Did she give you that message herself?” asked Nickie, hastily; “are
+those her own words?”
+
+“Them's her words,” said Tate, dryly.
+
+“I never heerd the likes--”
+
+“Stop, Mick, hold your tongue!” said Nickie, to his over-zealous
+follower; while he muttered to himself, “My name is n't Anthony Nickie,
+or I 'll make her repent that speech! Ay, faith,” said he, aloud, as
+turning to the portrait of the Knight he appeared to address it, “you
+shall come to the hammer as the original did before you.” If Tate had
+understood the purport of this sarcasm, it is more than probable the
+discussion would have taken another form; as it was, he listened to Mr.
+Nickie's orders about the supper with due decorum, and retired to make
+the requisite preparations. “I will make a night of it, by-------,”
+ exclaimed Nickie, as with clinched fist he struck the table before him.
+“I hope you know how to sing, Mick?”
+
+“I can do a little that way, sir,” grinned the ruffian, “when the
+company is pressin'. If it was n't too loud--”
+
+“Too loud! you may drown the storm out there, if ye 're able. But wait
+till we have the supper and the liquor before us, as they might cut
+off the supplies.” And with this prudent counsel, they suffered Tate to
+proceed in his arrangements, without uttering another word.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVIII. A CONVIVIAL EVENING
+
+While Tate busied himself in laying the table, Mr. Nickie, with
+bent brows and folded arms, passed up and down the apartments, still
+ruminating on the affront so openly passed upon him, and cogitating
+how best to avenge it. As passing and repassing he cast his eyes on the
+preparations, he halted suddenly, and said, “Lay another cover here.”
+ Tate stood, uncertain whether he had heard aright the words, when Nickie
+repeated, “Don't you hear me? I said lay another cover. The gentleman
+will sup here.”
+
+“Oh! indeed,” exclaimed Tate, as, opening his eyes to the fullest
+extent, he appeared to admit a new light upon his brain; “I beg pardon,
+sir, I was thinking that this gentleman might like to sup with the other
+gentleman, out in the kitchen beyond!”
+
+“I said he 'd sup here,” said Nickie, vehemently, for he felt the taunt
+in all its bitterness.
+
+“I say, old fellow,” said M'Dermot in Tate's ear, “you needn't be
+sparin' of the liquor. Give us the best you have, and plenty of it. It
+is all the same to yer master, you know, in a few days. I was saying,
+sir,” said he to Nickie, who, overhearing him, turned sharply round,-“I
+was saying, sir, that he might as well give up the ould bin with the
+cobweb over it. It's the creditors suffers now, and we've many a way of
+doin' a civil turn.”
+
+“His mistress has shut the door on that,” said Nickie, savagely, “and
+she may take the consequences.”
+
+“Oh, never mind him,” whispered M'Dermot to Tate; “he 's the
+best-hearted crayture that ever broke bread, but passionate, d' ye mind,
+passionate.”
+
+Poor Tate, who had suddenly become alive to the characters and objects
+of his quests, was now aware that his mistress's refusal to admit the
+chief might possibly be productive of very disastrous consequences;
+for, like all low Irishmen, he had a very ample notion of the elastic
+character of the law, and thought that its pains and penalties were
+entirely at the option of him who executed it.
+
+“Her Ladyship never liked to see much company,” said he, apologetically.
+
+“Well, maybe so,” rejoined M'Dennot, “but in a quiet homely sort of a
+way, sure she need n't have refused Mr. Anthony; little she knows, there
+'s not the like of him for stories about the Court of Conscience and the
+Sessions.”
+
+“I don't doubt it,” exclaimed Tate, who, in assenting, felt pretty
+certain that his fascinations would scarcely have met appreciation in
+the society of his mistress and her daughter.
+
+“And if ye heerd him sing 'Hobson's Choice,' with a new verse of his own
+at the end!”
+
+Tate threw a full expression of wondering admiration into his features,
+and went on with his arrangements in silence.
+
+“Does he know anything of Dempsey, do you think?” said Nickie, in a
+whisper to his follower.
+
+“Not he,” muttered the other, scornfully; “the crayture seems half a
+nat'ral.” Then, in a voice pitched purposely loud, he said, “Do you
+happen to know one Dempsey in these parts?”
+
+“Paul Dempsey?” added Nickie.
+
+“A little, short man, with a turned-up nose, that walks with his
+shoulders far back and his hands spread out? Ay, I know him well; he
+dined here one day with the master, and sure enough he made the company
+laugh hearty!”
+
+“I 'd be glad to meet him, if he 's as pleasant as you say,” said
+Nickie, slyly.
+
+“There's nothing easier, then,” said Tate; “since the boarding-house is
+closed there at Ballintray, he's up in Coleraine for the winter. I hear
+he waits for the Dublin mail, at M'Grotty's door, every evening, to see
+the passengers, and that he has a peep at the way-bill before the agent
+himself.”
+
+“Has he so many acquaintances that he is always on the look out for
+one?”
+
+“Faix, if they'd let him,” cried Tate, laughing, “I believe he 'd know
+every man, woman, and child in Ireland. For curiosity, he beats all ever
+I seen.”
+
+As Tate spoke, a sudden draught of wind seemed to penetrate the
+chamber,--at least the canoe and its party shook perceptibly.
+
+“We'll have a rare night of it,” said Nickie, drawing nearer to the
+fire. Then resuming, added, “And you say I'll have no difficulty to find
+him?”
+
+“Not the least, bedad! It would be far harder to escape him, from all
+I hear. He watches the coach, and never leaves it till he sees the fore
+boot and the hind one empty; not only looking the passengers in the
+face, but tumbling over the luggage, reading all the names, and where
+they 're going. Oh, he's a wonderful man for knowledge!”
+
+“Indeed,” said Nickie, with a look of attention to draw on the garrulity
+of the old man.
+
+“I've reason to remember it well,” said Tate, putting both hands to his
+loins. “It was the day he dined here I got the rheumatiz in the small of
+my back. When I went to open the gate without there for him, he kept me
+talking for three quarters of an hour in the teeth of an east wind that
+would shave a goat,--asking me about the master and the mistress and
+Miss Helen, ay, and even about myself at last,--if I had any brothers,
+and what their names was, and who was Mister Daly, and whether he did
+n't keep a club-house. By my conscience, it's well for him ould Bagenal
+did n't hear him!”
+
+A clattering sound from the canoe suddenly interrupted Tate's narrative;
+he stopped short, and muttered, in a tone of unfeigned terror,--
+
+“That's the way always,-may I never see glory! ye can't speak of him but
+he hears ye!”
+
+A rude laugh from Nickie, chorused still more coarsely by M'Dermot,
+arrested Tate's loquacity, and he finished his arrangements without
+speaking, save in a few broken sentences.
+
+If Mr. Nickie could have been conciliated by material enjoyments, he
+might decidedly have confessed that the preparations for his comfort
+were ample and hospitable. A hot supper diffused its savory steam on a
+table where decanters and flasks of wine of different sorts and sizes
+attested that the more convivial elements of a feast were not forgotten.
+Good humor was, however, not to be restored by such amends. He was
+wounded in his self-love, outraged in his vanity; and he sat down in
+a dogged silence to the meal, a perfect contrast in appearance to the
+coarse delight of his subordinate.
+
+While Tate remained to wait on them, Nickie's manner and bearing were
+unchanged. A sullen, sulky expression sat on features which, even when
+at the best, conveyed little better than a look of shrewd keenness;
+nor could the appetite with which he eat suggest a passing ray of
+satisfaction to his face.
+
+“I am glad we are rid of that old fellow at last,” said he, as the door
+closed upon Tate. “Whether fool or knave, I saw what he was at; he would
+have been disrespectful if he dared.”
+
+“I did n't mind him much, sir,” said M'Dermot, honestly confessing that
+the good cheer had absorbed his undivided attention.
+
+“I did, then; I saw his eyes fixed effectually on us,--on you
+particularly. I thought he would have laughed outright when you helped
+yourself to the entire duck.”
+
+Nickie spoke this with an honest severity, meant to express his
+discontent with his companion fully as much as with the old butler.
+
+“Well, it was an excellent supper, anyhow,” said M'Dermot, taking the
+bottle which Nickie pushed towards him somewhat rudely; “and here 's
+wishing health and happiness and long life to ye, Mr. Anthony. May ye
+always have as plentiful a board, and better company round it.”
+
+There was a fawning humility in the fellow's manner that seemed to
+gratify the other, for he nodded a return to the sentiment, and, after a
+brief pause, said,--“The servants in these grand houses,--and that old
+fellow, you may remark, was with the Darcys when they were great
+people,--they give themselves airs to everybody they think below the
+rank of their master.”
+
+“Faix, they might behave better to _you_, Mr. Anthony,” said M'Dermot.
+
+“Well, they're run their course now,” said Nickie, not heeding the
+remark. “Both master and man have had their day. I 've seen more
+executions on property in the last six months than ever I did in all my
+life before. Creditors won't wait now as they used to do. No influence
+now to make gaugers and tide-waiters and militia officers; no privilege
+of Parliament to save them from arrest!”
+
+“My blessings on them for that, anyhow,” said M'Dermot, finishing his
+glass. “The Union 's a fine thing.”
+
+“The fellows that got the bribes--and, to be sure, there was plenty of
+money going--won't stay to spend it in Ireland; devil a one will remain
+here, but those that are run out and ruined.”
+
+“Bad luck to it for a Bill!” said M'Dermot, who felt obliged to
+sacrifice his consistency in his desire to concur with each new
+sentiment of his chief.
+
+“The very wine we're drinking, maybe, was given for a vote. Pitt knew
+well how to catch them.”
+
+“Success attend him!” chimed in M'Dermot.
+
+“And just think of them now,” continued Nickie, whose ruminations were
+never interrupted by the running commentary,--“just think of them!
+selling the country, trade, prosperity, everything, for a few hundred
+pounds.”
+
+“The blackguards!”
+
+“Some, to be sure, made a fine thing out of it. Not like old Darcy here;
+they were early in the market, and got both rank and money too.”
+
+“Ay, that was doin' it in style!” exclaimed Mike, who expressed himself
+this time somewhat equivocally, for safety's sake.
+
+“There 's no denying it, Castlereagh was a clever fellow!”
+
+“The best man ever I seen--I don't care who the other is.”
+
+“He knew when to bid, and when to draw back; never became too pressing,
+but never let any one feel himself neglected; watched his opportunities
+slyly, and when the time came, pounced down like a hawk on his victim.”
+
+“Oh, the thieves' breed! What a hard heart he had!” muttered M'Dermot,
+perfectly regardless of whom he was speaking.
+
+Thus did Mr. Nickie ramble on, in the popular cant, over the subject
+of the day; for although the Union was now carried, and its
+consequences--whatever they might be--so far inevitable, the men whose
+influence effected the measure were still before the bar of public
+opinion,--an ordeal not a whit more just and discriminating than it
+usually is. While the current of these reminiscences ran on, varied by
+some anecdote here or some observation there, both master and man
+drank deeply. So long as good liquor abounded, Mr. M'Dermot could have
+listened with pleasure, even to a less entertaining companion; and as
+for Nickie, he felt a vulgar pride in discussing, familiarly and by
+name, the men of rank and station who took a leading part in Irish
+politics. The pamphlets and newspapers of the day had made so many
+private histories public, had unveiled so many family circumstances
+before the eyes of the world, that his dissertations had all the seeming
+authenticity of personal knowledge.
+
+It was at the close of a rather violent denunciation of the
+“Traitors”--as the Government party was ever called--that Nickie,
+striking the table with his fist, called on M'Dermot to sing.
+
+“I say, Mac,” cried he, with a faltering tongue, and eyes red and
+bleared from drink,--“the old lady--wouldn't accept my society--she did
+n't think--An-tho-ny Nickie, Esquire--good enough--to sit down--at her
+table. Let us show her what she has lost, my boy. Give her 'Bob Uniake's
+Boots' or 'The Major's Prayer.'”
+
+“Or what d' ye think of the new ballad to Lord Castlereagh, sir?”
+ suggested M'Dermot, modestly. “It was the last thing Rhoudlim had when I
+left town.”
+
+“Is it good?” hiccuped Nickie.
+
+“If ye heerd Rhoudlim--”
+
+“D----n Rhoudlim!--she used to sing that song Parsons made on the
+attorneys. Parsons never liked us, Mac. You know what he said to Holmes,
+who went to him for a subscription of five shillings, to help to bury
+Mat Costegan. 'Was n't he an attorney?' says Parsons. 'He was,' says the
+other. 'Well, here 's a pound,' says he; 'take it and bury four!'”
+
+“Oh, by my conscience, that was mighty nate!” said M'Dermot, who
+completely forgot himself.
+
+Nickie frowned savagely at his companion, and for a moment seemed about
+to express his anger more palpably, when he suddenly drank off his
+glass, and said, “Well, the song,-let us have it now.”
+
+“I 'm afraid--I don't know more than a verse here and there,” said Mac,
+bashfully stroking down his hair, and mincing his words; “but with the
+help of a chorus--”
+
+“Trust me for that,” cried Nickie, who now drank glass after glass
+without stopping; “I'm always ready for a song.” So saying he burst out
+into a half-lachryinose chant,--
+
+     “An old maid had a roguish eye!
+     And she was call'd the great Kamshoodera!
+     Rich was she and poor was I!
+     Fol de dol de die do!
+
+“I forget the rest, Mickie, but it goes on about a Nabob and a bear,
+and--a--what's this ye call it, a pottle of green gooseberries that Lord
+Clangoff sold to Mrs. Kelfoyle.”
+
+“To be sure; I remember it well,” said Mac, humoring the drunken
+lucubrations; “but my chant is twice as aisy to sing,--the air is the
+'Black Joke;' and any one can chorus.”
+
+“Well, open the proceedings,” hiccuped Nickie; “state the case.”
+
+And thus encouraged, Mr. M'Dermot cleared his throat, and in a voice
+loud and coarse enough to be heard above the howling din, began:--
+
+     “Though many a mile he's from Erin away,
+     Here 's health and long life to my Lord Castlereagh,
+     With his bag full of guineas so bright!
+     'T was he that made Bishops and Deans by the score,
+     And Peers, of the fashion of Lord Donoughmore!
+     And a Colonel of horse of our friend Billy Lake,
+     And Wallincourt a Lord,--t'other day but Joe Blake,
+     With his bag full of guineas so bright.
+
+     “Come Beresford, Bingham, Luke Fox, and Tyrone,
+     Come Kearney, Bob Johnston, and Arthur Malone,
+     With your bag full of guineas so bright;
+     Lord Charles Fitzgerald and Kit Fortescue,
+     And Henry Deane Grady,--we 'll not forget you,
+     Come Cuffe, Isaac Corry, and General Dunne,
+     And you Jemmy Vandeleur,--come every one,
+     With your bag full of guineas so bright.
+
+     Come Talbot and Townsend, Come Toler and Trench,
+     Tho' made for the gallows, ye 're now on the Bench,
+     With your bag full of guineas so bright
+     But if ever again this black list I 'll begin,
+     The first name I 'll take is the ould Knight of Gwynne,
+     Who, robb'd of his property, stripped of his pelf,
+     Would be glad to see Erin as poor as himself.
+     With no bag full of guineas so bright.
+
+     “If the Parliament 's gone, and the world it has scoffed us,
+     What a blessing to think that we 've Tottenham Loftus,
+     With his bag full of guineas so bright.
+     Oh, what consolation through every disaster,
+     To know that your Lordship is made our Postmaster,
+     And your uncle a Bishop, your aunt--but why mention,
+     Two thousand a year, 'of a long service pension'
+     Of a bag full of guineas so bright.
+
+     “But what is the change, since your Lordship appears!
+     You found us all Paupers, you left us all Peers,
+     With your bag full of guineas so bright.
+     Not a man in the island, however he boast,
+     But has a good reason to fill to the toast,--
+     From Cork to the Causeway, from Howth to Clue Bay,
+     A health and long life to my Lord Castlereagh,
+     With his bag full of guineas so bright.”
+
+The boisterous accompaniment by which Mr. Nickie testified his
+satisfaction at the early verses had gradually subsided into a low
+droning sound, which at length, towards the conclusion, lapsed into a
+prolonged heavy snore. “Fast!” exclaimed M'Dermot, holding the candle
+close to his eyes. “Fast!” Then taking up the decanter, he added, “And
+if ye had gone off before, it would have been no great harm.
+Ye never had the bottle out of yer grip for the last hour and half!” He
+heaped some wood on the grate, refilled his glass, and then disposing
+himself so as to usurp a very large share of the blazing fire, prepared
+to follow the good example of his chief. Long habit had made an
+arm-chair to the full as comfortable as a bed to the worthy functionary,
+and his arrangements were scarcely completed, when his nose announced by
+a deep sound that he was a wanderer in the land of dreams.
+
+Poor Mr. Dempsey--for if the reader may have forgotten him all this
+while, we must not--listened long and watchfully to the heavy notes, nor
+was it without considerable fear that he ventured to unveil his head and
+take a peep under Daly's arm at the sleepers. Reassured by the seeming
+heaviness of the slumberers, he dared a step farther, and at last seated
+himself bolt upright in the canoe, glad to relieve his cramped-up legs,
+even by this momentary change of position. So cautious were all his
+movements, so still and noiseless every gesture, that had there been a
+waking eye to mark him, it would have been hard enough to distinguish
+between his figure and those of his inanimate neighbors.
+
+[Illustration: 236]
+
+The deep and heavy breathing of the sleepers was the only sound to be
+heard; they snored as if it were a contest between them; still it
+was long before Dempsey could summon courage enough to issue from his
+hiding-place, and with stealthy steps approach the table. Cautiously
+lifting the candle, he first held it to the face of one and then of the
+other of the sleepers. His next move was to inspect the supper-table,
+where, whatever the former abundance, nothing remained save the veriest
+fragments: the bottles too were empty, and poor Dempsey shook his head
+mournfully as he poured out and drank the last half-glass of sherry in a
+decanter. This done, he stood for a few minutes reflecting what step
+he should take next. A sudden change of position of Nickie startled him
+from these deliberations, and Dempsey cowered down beneath the table in
+terror. Scarcely daring to breathe, Paul waited while the sleeper moved
+from side to side, muttering some short and broken words; at length he
+seemed to have settled himself to his satisfaction, for so his prolonged
+respiration bespoke. Just as he had turned for the last time, a heavy
+roll of papers fell from his pocket to the floor. Dempsey eyed the
+packet with a greedy look, but did not dare to reach his hand towards
+it, till well assured that the step was safe.
+
+Taking a candle from the table, Paul reseated himself on the floor, and
+opened a large roll of documents tied with red tape; the very first he
+unrolled seemed to arrest his attention strongly, and although passing
+on to the examination of the remainder, he more than once recurred to
+it, till at length creeping stealthily towards the fire, he placed it
+among the burning embers, and stirred and poked until it became a mere
+mass of blackened leaves.
+
+“There,” muttered he, “Paul Dempsey 's his own man again. And now what
+can he do for his friends? Ha, ha! 'Execution against Effects of Bagenal
+Daly, Esq.,'” said he, reading half aloud; “and this lengthy affair
+here, 'Instructions to A. N. relative to the enclosed'-let us see what
+that may be.” And so saying, he opened the scroll; a bright flash of
+flame burst out from among the slumbering embers, and ere it died away
+Paul read a few lines of the paper. “What scoundrels!” muttered he,
+as he wiped the perspiration from his forehead, for already had
+honest Paul's feelings excited him to the utmost. The flame was again
+flickering, in another moment it would be out, when, stealing forth his
+hand, he placed an open sheet upon it, and then, as the blaze caught, he
+laid the entire bundle of papers on the top, and watched them till they
+were reduced to ashes.
+
+“Maybe it's a felony--I'm sure it's a misdemeanor at least--what I 've
+done now,” muttered he; “but there was no resisting it. I wish I thought
+it was no heavier crime to do the same by these worthy gentlemen here.”
+
+Indeed, for a second or two, Paul's hesitation seemed very considerable.
+Fear, or something higher in principle, got the victory at length, and
+after a long silence he said,--
+
+“Well, I 'll not harm them.” And with this benevolent sentiment he stood
+up, and detaching Darcy's portrait from the wall, thrust it into his
+capacious pocket. This done, he threw another glance over the table,
+lest some unseen decanter might still remain; but no, except a water-jug
+of pure element, nothing remained.
+
+“Good-night, and pleasant dreams t'ye both,” muttered Paul, as, blowing
+out one candle, he took the other, and slipped, without the slightest
+noise, from the room.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIX. MR. DEMPSEY BEHIND THE SCENE
+
+No very precise or determined purpose guided Mr. Dempsey's footsteps as
+he issued from the hall and gained the corridor, from which the various
+rooms of the cottage opened. Benevolent intentions of the vaguest kind
+towards Lady Eleanor were commingled with thoughts of his own safety,
+and perhaps more strongly than either, an intense curiosity to inspect
+the domestic arrangements of the family, not without the hope of finding
+something to eat.
+
+He had now been about twenty-four hours without food, and to a man who
+habitually lived in a boarding-house, and felt it a point of honor to
+consume as much as he could for his weekly pay, the abstinence was far
+from agreeable. If then his best inspirations were blended with some
+selfishness, he was not quite unpardonable. Mr. Dempsey tried each door
+as he went along, and although they were all unlocked, the interiors
+responded to none of his anticipations. The apartments were plainly but
+comfortably furnished; in some books lay about, and an open piano told
+of recent habitation. In one, which he judged rightly to be the
+Knight's drawing-room, a table was covered over with letters and law
+papers,--documents which honest Paul beheld with some feeling akin to
+Aladdin, when he surveyed the inestimable treasures he had no means of
+carrying away with him from the mine. A faint gleam of light shone
+from beneath a door at the end of the corridor, and thither with silent
+footsteps he now turned. All was still: he listened as he drew near; but
+except the loud ticking of a clock, nothing was to be heard. Paul tried
+to reconnoitre by the keyhole, but it was closed. He waited for some
+time unable to decide on the most fitting course, and at length opened
+the door, and entered. Stopping short at the threshold, Paul raised the
+candle, to take a better view of the apartment. Perhaps any one save
+himself would have returned on discovering it was a bedroom. A large
+old-fashioned bed, with a deep and massive curtain closely drawn, stood
+against one wall; beside it, on the table, was a night-lamp, from which
+the faint glimmer he had first noticed proceeded. Some well-stuffed
+arm-chairs were disposed here and there, and on the tables lay articles
+of female dress. Mr. Dempsey stood for a few seconds, and perhaps
+some secret suspicion crept over him that this visit might be thought
+intrusive. It might be Lady Eleanor's, or perhaps Miss Darcy's chamber.
+Who was to say she was not actually that instant in bed asleep? Were
+the fact even so, Mr. Dempsey only calculated on a momentary shock of
+surprise at his appearance, well assured that his explanation would be
+admitted as perfectly satisfactory. Thus wrapped in his good intentions,
+and shrouding the light with one hand, he drew the curtain with the
+other. The bed was empty, the coverings were smooth, the pillows
+unpressed. The occupant, whoever it might be, had not yet taken
+possession. Mr. Dempsey's fatigue was only second to his hunger, and
+having failed to discover the larder, it is more than probable he would
+have contented himself with the gratification of a sleep, had he not
+just at that instant perceived a light flickering beside and beneath the
+folds of a heavy curtain which hung over a doorway at the farthest
+end of the room. His spirit of research once more encouraged, he
+moved towards it, and drawing it very gently, admitted his eye in the
+interspace. A glass door intervened between him and a small chamber, but
+permitted him to see without being heard by those within. Flattening
+his features on the glass, he stared at the scene; and truly one less
+inspired by the spirit of inquiry might have felt shocked at being thus
+placed. Lady Eleanor sat in her dressing-gown on a sofa, while, half
+kneeling, half lying at her feet, was Helen, her head concealed in
+her mother's lap, and her long hair loosely flowing over her neck and
+shoulders. Lady Eleanor was pale as death, and the marks of recent tears
+were ou her cheeks; but still her features wore the expression of deep
+tenderness and pity, rather than of selfish sorrow. Helen's face was
+hidden; but her attitude, and the low sobbing sounds that at intervals
+broke the stillness, told how her heart was suffering.
+
+[Illustration: 242]
+
+“My dear, dear child,” said Lady Eleanor, as she laid her hand upon the
+young girl's head, “be comforted. Rest assured that in making me the
+partner in your sorrow, I will be the happier participator in your joy,
+whenever its day may come. Yes, Helen, and it will come.”
+
+“Had I told you earlier--”
+
+“Had you done so,” interrupted Lady Eleanor, “you had been spared much
+grief, for I could have assured you, as I now do, that you are not to
+blame,--that this young man's rashness, however we may deplore it, had
+no promptings from us.”
+
+Helen replied, but in so low a tone that Mr. Dempsey could not catch the
+words; he could hear, however, Lady Eleanor uttering at intervals words
+of comfort and encouragement, and at last she said,--
+
+“Nay, Helen, no half-confidence, my child. Acknowledge it fairly, that
+your opinion of him is not what it was at first; or if you will not
+confess it, leave it to my own judgment And why should you not?” added
+she, in a stronger voice; “wiser heads may reprove his precipitancy,
+criticise what would be called his folly, but you may be forgiven for
+thinking that his Quixotism could deserve another and a fonder title.
+And I, Helen, grown old and chilly-hearted, each day more distrustful
+of the world, less sanguine in hope, more prone to suspect,--even I feel
+that devotion like his has a strong claim on your affection. And shall
+I own to you that on the very day he brought us that letter a kind of
+vague presentiment that I should one day like him stole across me. What
+was the noise? Did you not hear something stir?” Helen had heard it, but
+paid no further attention, for there was no token of any one being near.
+
+Noise, however, there really was, occasioned by Mr. Dempsey, who, in
+his eagerness to hear, had pushed the door partly open. For some moments
+back, honest Paul had listened with as much embarrassment as curiosity,
+sorely puzzled to divine of whom the mother and daughter were speaking.
+The general tenor of the conversation left the subject no matter
+of difficulty. The individual was the only doubtful question. Lady
+Eleanor's allusion to a letter, and her own feelings at the moment, at
+once reminded him of her altered manner to himself on the evening he
+brought the epistle from Coleraine, and how she, who up to that time had
+treated him with unvarying distance and reserve, had as suddenly become
+all the reverse.
+
+“Blood alive!” said he to himself, “I never as much as suspected it!”
+ His eagerness to hear further was intense; and although he had contrived
+to keep the door ajar, his curiosity was doomed to disappointment, for
+it was Helen who spoke, and her words were uttered in a low, faint tone,
+utterly inaudible where he stood. Whatever pleasure Mr. Dempsey might
+have at first derived from his contraband curiosity, was more than
+repaid now by the tortures of anxiety. He suspected that Helen was
+making a full confession of her feelings towards him, and yet he could
+not catch a syllable. Lady Eleanor, too, when she spoke again, it was in
+an accent almost equally faint; and all that Paul could gather was that
+the mother was using expressions of cheerfulness and hope, ending with
+the words,--
+
+“His own fortunes look now as darkly as ours; mayhap the same bright
+morning will dawn for both together, Helen. We have hope to cheer us,
+for him and for us.”
+
+“Ah! true enough,” muttered Paul; “she's alluding to old Bob Dempsey,
+and if the Lord would take him, we 'd all come right again.”
+
+Helen now arose, and seated herself beside her mother, with her head
+leaning ou her shoulder; and Mr. Dempsey might have been pardoned if
+he thought she never looked more beautiful. The loose folds of her
+night-dress less concealed than delineated the perfect symmetry of her
+form; while through the heavy masses of the luxuriant hair that fell
+upon her neck and shoulders, her skin seemed more than ever delicately
+fair. If Paul's mind was a perfect whirl of astonishment, delight,
+and admiration, his doubts were no less puzzling. What was _he_ to do?
+Should he at once discover himself, throw himself at Helen's feet in a
+rapture, confessing that he had heard her avowal, and declare that the
+passion was mutual? This, although with evident advantages on the score
+of dramatic effect, had also its drawback. Lady Eleanor, who scarcely
+looked as well in dishabille as her daughter, might feel offended. She
+might take it ill, also, that he had been a listener. Paul had heard of
+people who actually deemed eavesdropping unbecoming! Who knows,
+among her own eccentricities, if this one might not find place? Paul,
+therefore, resolved on a more cautious advance, and, for his guidance,
+applied his ear once more to the aperture. This time, however, without
+success, for they spoke still lower than before; nor, after a long and
+patient waiting, could he hear more than that the subject was their
+present embarrassment, and the necessity of immediately removing from
+“The Corvy,” but where to, and how, they could not determine.
+
+There was no time to ask Bicknell's advice; before an answer could
+arrive, they would be exposed to all the inconvenience, perhaps insult,
+which Mr. Nickie's procedure seemed to threaten. The subject appeared
+one to which all their canvassing had brought no solution, and at last
+Lady Eleanor said,--
+
+“How thankful I am, Helen, that I never wrote to Lord Netherby; more
+than once, when our difficulties seemed to thicken, I half made up my
+mind to address him. How much would it add to my present distress
+of mind, if I had yielded to the impulse! The very thought is now
+intolerable.”
+
+“Pride! pride!” muttered Paul.
+
+“And I was so near it,” ejaculated Lady Eleanor.
+
+“Yes,” said Helen, sharply; “our noble cousin's kindness would be a sore
+aggravation of our troubles.”
+
+“Worse than the mother, by Jove!” exclaimed Paul. “Oh dear! if I had a
+cousin a lord, maybe he'd not hear of me.”
+
+Lady Eleanor spoke again; but Paul could only catch a stray word here
+and there, and again she reverted to the necessity of leaving the
+cottage at once.
+
+“Could we even see this Mr. Dempsey,” said she, “he knows the country
+well, and might be able to suggest some fitting place for the moment, at
+least till we could decide on better.”
+
+Paul scarcely breathed, that he might catch every syllable.
+
+“Yes,” said Helen, eagerly, “he would be the very person to assist us;
+but, poor little man! he has his own troubles, too, at this moment.”
+
+“She's a kind creature,” muttered Paul; “how fond I'm growing of her!”
+
+“It is no time for the indulgence of scruples; otherwise, Helen, I 'd
+not place much reliance on the gentleman's taste.”
+
+“Proud as Lucifer,” thought Paul.
+
+“His good-nature, mamma, is the quality we stand most in need of, and I
+have a strong trust that he is not deficient there.”
+
+“What a situation to be placed in!” sighed Lady Eleanor: “that we should
+turn with a shudder from seeking protection where it is our due, and yet
+ask counsel and assistance from a man like this!”
+
+“I feel no repugnance whatever to accepting such a favor from Mr.
+Dempsey, while I should deem it a great humiliation to be suitor to the
+Earl of Netherby.”
+
+“And yet he is our nearest relative living,--with vast wealth and
+influence, and I believe not indisposed towards us. I go too fast,
+perhaps,” said she, scornfully; “his obligations to my own father were
+too great and too manifold, that I should say so.”
+
+“What a Tartar!” murmured Paul.
+
+“If the proud Earl could forget the services my dear father rendered
+him, when, a younger son, without fortune or position, he had no other
+refuge than our house,--if he could wipe away the memory of benefits
+once received,--he might perhaps be better minded towards us; but
+obligation is so suggestive of ill-will.”
+
+“Dearest mamma,” said Helen, laughing, “if your hopes depend upon his
+Lordship's forgetfulness of kindness, I do think we may afford to be
+sanguine. I am well inclined to think that he is not weighed down by
+the load of gratitude that makes men enemies. Still,” added she, more
+seriously, “I am very averse to seeking his aid, or even his counsel; I
+vote for Mr. Dempsey.”
+
+“How are we to endure the prying impertinence of his curiosity? Have you
+thought of that, Helen?”
+
+Paul's cheek grew scarlet, and his very fingers' ends tingled.
+
+“Easily enough, mamma. Nay, if our troubles were not so urgent, it would
+be rather amusing than otherwise; and with all his vulgarity--”
+
+“The little vixen!” exclaimed Paul, so much off his guard that both
+mother and daughter started.
+
+“Did you hear that, Helen? I surely heard some one speak.”
+
+“I almost thought so,” replied Miss Darcy, taking up a candle from the
+table, and proceeding towards the door. Mr. Dempsey had but time to
+retreat behind the curtain of the bed, when she reached the spot where
+he had been standing. “No, all is quiet in the house,” said she,
+opening the door into the corridor and listening. “Even our respectable
+guests would seem to be asleep.” She waited for a few seconds, and then
+returned to her place on the sofa.
+
+Mr. Dempsey had either heard enough to satisfy the immediate cravings
+of his curiosity, or, more probably, felt his present position too
+critical; for when he drew the curtain once more close over the glass
+door, he slipped noiselessly into the corridor, and entering the first
+room he could find, opened the window and sprang out.
+
+“You shall not be disappointed in Paul Dempsey, anyhow,” said he, as he
+buttoned up the collar of his coat, and pressed his hat more firmly
+on his head. “No, my Lady, he may be vulgar and inquisitive, though I
+confess it's the first time I ever heard of either; but he is not the
+man to turn his back on a good-natured action, when it lies full
+in front of him. What a climate, to be sure! it blows from the four
+quarters of the globe all at once, and the rain soaks in and deluges
+one's very heart's blood. Paul, Paul, you 'll have a smart twinge of
+rheumatism from this night's exploit.”
+
+It may be conjectured that Mr. Dempsey, like many other gifted people,
+had a habit of compensating for the want of society by holding little
+dialogues or discourses with himself,--a custom from which he derived no
+small gratification, for, while it lightened the weariness of a lonely
+way, it enabled him to say many more flattering and civil things to
+himself than he usually heard from an ungrateful world.
+
+“They talk of Demerara,” said he; “I back Antrim against the world for
+a hurricane. The rainy season here lasts all the year round; and if
+practice makes perfect--There, now I 'm wet through, I can't be worse.
+Ah! Helen, Helen, if you knew how unfit Paul Dempsey is to play Paris!
+By the way, who was the fellow that swam the Hellespont for love of
+a young lady? Not Laertes, no--that's not it-Leander, that's the
+name--Leander.”
+
+Paul muttered the name several times over, and by a train of thought
+which we will not attempt to follow or unravel, began humming to himself
+the well-known Irish ditty of--
+
+     “Teddy, ye gander,
+     Yer like a Highlander.”
+
+
+He soon came to a stop in the words, but continued to sing the air, till
+at last he broke out in the following version of his own:--
+
+     “Paul Dempsey, ye gander,
+     You 're like that Leander
+     Who for somebody's daughter--for somebody's daughter
+     Did not mind it one pin
+     To be wet to the skin,
+     With a dip in salt water--a dip in salt water.
+
+     “Were you wiser, 'tis plain,
+     You 'd be now in Coleraine,
+     A nightcap on your head--a nightcap on your head,
+     With a jorum of rum,
+     Made by old Mother Fum,
+     At the side of your bed--at the side of your bed.
+
+     “For tho' love is divine,
+     When the weather is fine,
+     And a season of bliss--a season of bliss,
+     'Tis a different thing
+     For a body to sing
+     On a night such as this--a night such as this.
+
+     “Paul Dempsey! remember,
+     On the ninth of December
+     You 'll be just forty-six--you 'll be just forty-six,
+     And the world will say
+     That at your time o' day
+     You 're too old for these tricks--you 're too old for these tricks.
+
+     “And tho' water may show
+     One's love, faith,
+     I know I 'd rather prove mine--I 'd rather prove mine
+     With my feet on the fender;
+     'T is then I grow tender,
+     O'er a bumper of wine--o'er a bumper of wine!
+
+“A bumper of wine!” sighed he. “On my conscience, it would be an ugly
+toast I 'd refuse to drink this minute, if the liquor was near.
+
+     “Ah! when warm and snog,
+     With my legs on the rug,
+     By a turf fire red--a turf fire red--
+     But how can I rhyme it?
+     With this horrid climate,
+     Destroying my head--destroying my head?
+
+     “With a coat full of holes,
+     And my shoes without soles,
+     And my hat like a teapot--my hat like a teapot--
+
+“Oh, murther, murther!” screamed he, aloud, as his shins came in contact
+with a piece of timber, and he fell full length to the ground, sorely
+bruised, and perfectly enveloped in snow. It was some minutes before he
+could rally sufficiently to get up; and although he still shouted for
+help, seeing a light in a window near, no one came to his assistance,
+leaving poor Paul to his own devices.
+
+It was some consolation for his sufferings to discover that the object
+over which he had stumbled was the shaft of a jaunting-car, such a
+conveyance being at that moment what he most desired to meet with. The
+driver at last made his appearance, and informed him that he had brought
+Nickie and his two companions from Larne, and was now only waiting their
+summons to proceed to Coleraine.
+
+Paul easily persuaded the man that he could earn a fare in the mean
+time, for that Nickie would probably not leave “The Corvy” till late
+on the following day, and that by a little exertion he could manage to
+drive to Coleraine and back before he was stirring. It is but fair to
+add that poor Mr. Dempsey supported his arguments by lavish promises of
+reward, to redeem which he speculated on mortgaging his silver watch,
+and probably his umbrella, when he reached Coleraine.
+
+It was yet a full hour before daybreak, as Lady Eleanor, who had passed
+the night in her dressing-room, was startled by a sharp tapping noise
+at her window; Helen lay asleep on the sofa, and too soundly locked
+in slumber to hear the sounds. Lady Eleanor listened, and while half
+fearing to disturb the young girl, wearied and exhausted as she was, she
+drew near to the window. The indistinct shadow of a figure was all that
+she could detect through the gloom, but she fancied she could hear a
+weak effort to pronounce her name.
+
+There could be little doubt of the intentions of the visitor; whoever he
+should prove, the frail barrier of a window could offer no resistance
+to any one disposed to enter by force, and, reasoning thus, Lady Eleanor
+unfastened the casement, and cried, “Who is there?”
+
+A strange series of gestures, accompanied by a sound between a sneeze
+and the crowing of a cock, was all the reply; and when the question was
+repeated in a louder tone, a thin quivering voice muttered, “Pau-au-l
+De-de-dempsey, my La-dy.”
+
+“Mr. Dempsey, indeed!” exclaimed Lady Eleanor. “Oh! pray come round to
+the door at your left hand; it is only a few steps from where you are
+standing.”
+
+Short as the distance was, Mr. Dempsey's progress was of the slowest,
+and Lady Eleanor had already time to awaken Helen, ere the half-frozen
+Paul had crossed the threshold.
+
+“He has passed the night in the snow,” cried Lady Eleanor to her
+daughter, as she led him towards the fire.
+
+“No, my Lady,” stammered out Paul, “only the last hour and a half;
+before that I was snug under old Daly's blanket.”
+
+A very significant interchange of looks between mother and daughter
+seemed to imply that poor Mr. Dempsey's wits were wandering.
+
+“Call Tate; let him bring some wine here at once, Helen.”
+
+“It's all drunk; not a glass in the decanter,” murmured Paul, whose
+thoughts recurred to the supper-table.
+
+“Poor creature, his mind is quite astray,” whispered Lady Eleanor,
+her compassion not the less strongly moved, because she attributed his
+misfortune to the exertions he had made in their behalf. By this time
+the group was increased by the arrival of old Tate, who, in a flannel
+nightcap fastened under the chin, and a very ancient dressing-gown of
+undyed wool, presented a lively contrast to the shivering condition of
+Mr. Dempsey.
+
+“It's only Mr. Dempsey!” said Lady Eleanor, sharply, as the old butler
+stood back, crossing himself and staring with sleepy terror at the white
+figure.
+
+“May I never! But so it is,” exclaimed Tate, in return to an attempt at
+a bow on Dempsey's part, which he accomplished with a brackling noise
+like creaking glass.
+
+“Some warm wine at once,” said Helen, while she heaped two or three logs
+upon the hearth.
+
+“With a little ginger in it, miss,” grinned Paul. But the polite attempt
+at a smile nearly cut his features, and ended in a most lamentable
+expression of suffering.
+
+“This is the finest thing in life agin' the cowld,” said Tate, as
+he threw over the shivering figure a Mexican mantle, all worked and
+embroidered with quills, that gave the gentle Mr. Dempsey the air of an
+enormous porcupine. The clothing, the fire, and the wine, of which he
+partook heartily, soon restored him, and erelong he had recounted to
+Lady Eleanor the whole narrative of his arrival at “The Corvy,” his
+concealment in the canoe, the burning of the law papers, and even
+down to the discovery of the jaunting-car, omitting nothing, save the
+interview he had witnessed between the mother and daughter.
+
+Lady Eleanor could not disguise her anxiety on the subject of the burned
+documents, but Paul's arguments were conclusive in reply,--
+
+“Who's to tell of it? Not your Ladyship, not Miss Helen; and as to Paul,
+meaning myself, my discretion is quite Spanish. Yes, my Lady,” said he,
+with a tragic gesture that threw back the loose folds of his costume,
+“there is an impression abroad, which I grieve to say is widespread,
+that the humble individual who addresses you is one of those unstable,
+fickle minds that accomplish nothing great; but I deny it, deny it
+indignantly. Let the occasion but arise, let some worthy object present
+itself, or herself,”--he gave a most melting look towards Helen, which
+cost all her efforts to sustain without laughter,--“and then, madam, Don
+Paulo Dempsey will come out in his true colors.”
+
+“Which I sincerely hope may not be of the snow tint,” said Lady Eleanor,
+smiling. “But pray, Mr. Dempsey, to return to a theme more selfish. You
+are sufficiently aware of our unhappy circumstances here at this moment,
+to see that we must seek some other abode, at least for the present. Can
+you then say where we can find such?”
+
+“Miss Daly's neighborhood, perhaps,” broke in Helen.
+
+“Never do,-not to be thought of,” interrupted Paul; “there's nothing for
+it but the Panther--”
+
+“The what, sir?” exclaimed Lady Eleanor, in no small surprise.
+
+“The Panther, my Lady, Mother Fum's! snug, quiet, and respectable;
+social, if you like,--selfish, if you please it. Solitary or gregarious;
+just as you fancy.”
+
+“And where, sir, is the Panther?” said Lady Eleanor, who in her
+innocence supposed this to be the sign of some village inn.
+
+“In the Diamond of Coleraine, my Lady, opposite M'Grotty's, next but one
+to Kitty Black's hardware, and two doors from the Post-Office; central
+and interesting. Mail-car from Newtown, Lim.,--takes up passengers,
+within view of the windows, at two every day. Letters given out at
+four,--see every one in the town without stirring from your window.
+Huston's, the apothecary, always full of people at post hour. Gibbin's
+tobacco-shop assembles all the Radicals at the same time to read the
+'Patriot.' Plenty of life and movement.”
+
+“Is there nothing to be found more secluded, less--”
+
+“Less fashionable, your Ladyship would observe. To be sure there is; but
+there 's objections,--at least I am sure you would dislike the prying,
+inquisitive spirit--Eh? Did you make an observation, miss?”
+
+“No, Mr. Dempsey,” said Helen, with some difficulty preserving a
+suitable gravity. “I would only remark that you are perfectly in the
+right, and that my mother seeks nothing more than a place where we can
+remain without obtrusiveness or curiosity directed towards us.”
+
+“There will always be the respectful admiration that beauty exacts,”
+ replied Paul, bowing courteously, “but I can answer for the delicacy of
+Coleraine as for my own.”
+
+If this assurance was not quite as satisfactory to the ladies as
+Mr. Dempsey might have fancied it ought to be, there was really no
+alternative; they knew nothing of the country, which side to direct
+their steps, or whither to seek shelter; besides, until they had
+communicated with Bicknell, they could not with safety leave the
+neighborhood to which all their letters were addressed.
+
+It was then soon determined to accept Mr. Dempsey's suggestion and
+safe-conduct, and leaving Tate for the present to watch over such of
+their effects as they could not conveniently carry with them, to set out
+for Coleraine. The arrangements were made as speedily as the resolve,
+and day had scarcely dawned ere they quitted “The Corvy.”
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XX. MR. HEFFERNAN OUT-MANOEUVRED
+
+It was on the very same evening that witnessed these events, that Lord
+Castlereagh was conducting Mr. Con Heffernan to his hotel, after
+a London dinner-party. The late Secretary for Ireland had himself
+volunteered the politeness, anxious to hear some tidings of people
+and events which, in the busy atmosphere of a crowded society, were
+unattainable. He speedily ran over a catalogue of former friends and
+acquaintances, learning, with that surprise with which successful men
+always regard their less fortunate contemporaries, that this one was
+still where he had left him, and that the other jogged on his daily road
+as before, when he suddenly asked,--
+
+“And the Darcys, what of them?”
+
+Heffernan shrugged his shoulders without speaking.
+
+“I am sorry for it,” resumed the other; “sorry for the gallant old
+Knight himself, and sorry for a state of society in which such changes
+are assumed as evidences of progress and prosperity. These upstart
+Hickmans are not the elements of which a gentry can be formed.”
+
+“O'Reilly still looks to you for the baronetcy, my Lord,” replied
+Heffernan, with a half-sneer. “You have him with or against you on that
+condition,--at least, so I hear.”
+
+“Has he not had good fortune enough in this world to be satisfied?
+He has risen from nothing to be a man of eminence, wealth, and county
+influence; would it not be more reasonable in him to mature his position
+by a little patience, than endanger it by fresh shocks to public
+opinion? Even a boa, my dear Heffernan, when he swallows a goat, takes
+six months to digest his meal. No! no! such men must be taught reserve,
+if their own prudence does not suggest it!”
+
+“I believe you are right, my Lord,” said Heffernan, thoughtfully;
+“O'Reilly is the very man to forget himself in the sunshine of court
+favor, and mistake good luck for desert.”
+
+“With all his money, too,” rejoined Lord Castlereagh, “his influence
+will just be proportioned to the degree of acceptance his constituents
+suppose him to possess with us here. He has never graduated as a
+Patriot, and his slight popularity is only 'special gratia.' His patent
+of Gentleman has not come to him by birth.”
+
+“For this reason the baronetcy--”
+
+“Let us not discuss that,” said Lord Castlereagh, quickly. “There is an
+objection in a high quarter to bestow honors, which would seem to ratify
+the downfall of an ancient house.” He seemed to have said more than he
+was ready to admit, and to change the theme turned the conversation on
+the party they had just quitted.
+
+“Sir George Hannaper always does these things well.”
+
+Mr. Heffernan assented blandly, but not over eagerly. London was not
+“_his_ world,” and the tone of a society so very different to what he
+was habituated had not made on him the most favorable impression.
+
+“And after all,” said Lord Castlereagh, musingly, “there is a great
+deal of tact--ability, if you will--essential to the success of such
+entertainments, to bring together men of different classes and shades
+of opinion, people who have never met before, perhaps are never to meet
+again, to hit upon the subjects of conversation that may prove generally
+interesting, without the risk of giving undue preponderance to any one
+individual's claims to superior knowledge. This demands considerable
+skill.”
+
+“Perhaps the difficulty is not so great _here_, my Lord,” said
+Heffernan, half timidly, “each man understands his part so well;
+information and conversational power appear tolerably equally
+distributed; and when all the instruments are so well tuned, the leader
+of the orchestra has an easy task.”
+
+“Ah! I believe I comprehend you,” said Lord Castlereagh, laughing; “you
+are covertly sneering at the easy and unexciting quietude of our London
+habits. Well, Heffernan, I admit we are not so fond of solo performances
+as you are in Dublin; few among us venture on those 'obligate passages'
+which are so charming to Irish ears; but don't you think the concerted
+pieces are better performed?”
+
+“I believe, my Lord,” said Heffernan, abandoning the figure in his
+anxiety to reply, “that we would call this dull in Ireland. I 'm afraid
+that we are barbarous enough to set more store by wit and pleasantry
+than on grave discussion and shrewd table-talk. It appears to me that
+these gentlemen carry an air of business into their conviviality.”
+
+“Scarcely so dangerous an error as to carry conviviality into business,”
+ said Lord Castlereagh, slyly.
+
+“There's too much holding back,” said Heffernan, not heeding the taunt;
+“each man seems bent on making what jockeys call 'a waiting race.'”
+
+“Confess, however,” said Lord Castlereagh, smiling, “there 's no
+struggle, no hustling at the winning-post: the best horse comes in
+first---”
+
+“Upon my soul, my Lord,” said Heffernan, interrupting, “I have yet
+to learn that there is such a thing. I conclude from your Lordship's
+observation that the company we met to-day were above the ordinary run
+of agreeability.”
+
+“I should certainly say so.”
+
+“Well, then, I can only affirm that we should call this a failure in our
+less polished land. I listened with becoming attention; the whole thing
+was new to me, and I can safely aver I neither heard one remark
+above the level of commonplace, nor one observation evidencing acute
+perception of passing events or reflection on the past. As to wit or
+epigram--”
+
+“Oh, we do not value these gifts at _your_ price; we are too thrifty a
+nation, Heffernan, to expend all our powder on fireworks.”
+
+“Faith, I agree with you, my Lord; the man who would venture on a rocket
+would be treated as an incendiary.”
+
+“Come, come, Heffernan, I 'll not permit you to say so. Did you ever
+in any society see a man more appreciated than our friend Darcy was the
+last evening we met him, his pleasantry relished, his racy humor well
+taken, and his stores of anecdote enjoyed with a degree of zest I have
+never seen surpassed?”
+
+“Darcy was always too smooth for our present taste,” said Heffernan,
+caustically. “His school was antiquated years ago; there was a dash of
+the French courtier through the Irishmen of his day.”
+
+“That made the most polished gentlemen of Europe, I've been told,” said
+Lord Castlereagh, interrupting. “I know your taste inclines to a less
+chastened and more adventurous pleasantry, shrewd insight into an
+antagonist's weak point, a quick perception of the ridiculous---”
+
+“Allied with deep knowledge of men and motives, my Lord,” said
+Heffernan, catching up the sentence, “a practical acquaintance with
+the world in its widest sense; that cultivated keenness that smacks of
+reading intentions before they are avowed, and divining plans before
+they are more than conceived. These solid gifts are all essential to the
+man who would influence society, whether in a social circle or in the
+larger sphere of active life.”
+
+“Ah! but we were talking of merely social qualities,” said Lord
+Castlereagh, stealing a cautious look of half malice, “the wit that sets
+the table in a roar.”
+
+“And which, like lightning, my Lord, must now and then prove dangerous,
+or men will cease to be dazzled by its brilliancy. Now, I rather incline
+to think that the Knight's pleasantry is like some of the claret we were
+drinking to-day, a little spoiled by age.”
+
+“I protest strongly against the judgment,” said Lord Castlereagh, with
+energy; “the man who at his time of life consents to resume the toils
+and dangers of a soldier's career must not be accused of growing old.”
+
+“Perhaps your Lordship would rather shift the charge of senility
+against the Government which appoints such an officer,” said Heffernan,
+maliciously.
+
+“As to that,” said Lord Castlereagh, laughingly, “I believe the whole
+thing was a mistake. Some jealous but indiscreet friend of Darcy's made
+an application in his behalf, and without his cognizance, pressing
+the claim of an old and meritorious officer, and directly asking for a
+restitution to his grade. This was backed by Lord Netherby, one of the
+lords in waiting, and without much inquiry--indeed, I fancy without
+any--he was named colonel, in exchange from the unattached list. The
+Knight was evidently flattered by so signal a mark of favor, and, if I
+read him aright, would not change his command for a brigade at home. In
+fact, he has already declined prospects not less certain of success.”
+
+“And is this really the mode in which officers are selected for an
+enterprise of hazard and importance?” said Heffernan, affecting a tone
+of startled indignation as he spoke.
+
+“Upon my word, Heffernan,” said Lord Castlereagh, subduing the rising
+tendency to laugh outright, “I fear it is too true. We live in days of
+backstairs and court favor. I saw an application for the office of Under
+Secretary for Ireland, so late as yesterday--”
+
+“You did, my Lord!” interrupted Heffernan, with more warmth than he
+almost ever permitted himself to feel. “You did, from a man who has
+rendered more unrewarded services to the Government than any individual
+in the kingdom.”
+
+“The claim was a very suitable one,” said Lord Castle-reagh, mildly.
+“The gentleman who preferred it could point to a long list of successful
+operations, whose conduct rested mainly or solely on his own consummate
+skill and address; he could even allege the vast benefit of his advice
+to young and not over-informed Chief Secretaries---”
+
+“I would beg to observe, my Lord---”
+
+“Pray allow me to continue,” said Lord Castlereagh, laying his hand
+gently on the other's arm. “As one of that helpless class so feelingly
+alluded to, I am ready to evince the deepest sense of grateful
+acknowledgments. It may be that I would rather have been mentioned more
+flatteringly; that the applicant had spoken of me as an apter and more
+promising scholar---”
+
+“My Lord, I must and will interrupt you. The memorial, which was
+presented in my name, was sent forward under the solemn pledge that
+it should meet the eyes of Mr. Pitt alone; that whether its prayer was
+declined or accorded, none, save himself, should have cognizance of
+it. If, after this, it was submitted to your Lordship's critical
+examination, I leave it to your good taste and your sense of decorum how
+far you can avow or make use of the knowledge so obtained.”
+
+“I was no party in the compact you allege, nor. I dare to say, was Mr.
+Pitt,” said Lord Castlereagh, proudly; but, momentarily resuming his
+former tone, he went on: “The Prime Minister, doubtless, knew how
+valuable the lesson might be to a young man entering on public life
+which should teach him not to lay too much store by his own powers
+of acuteness, not to trust too implicitly to his own qualities of
+shrewdness and perception; and that, by well reflecting on the aid he
+received from others, he might see how little the subtraction would
+leave for his own peculiar amount of skill. In this way I have to
+acknowledge myself greatly Mr. Heffernan's debtor, since, without the
+aid of this document, I should never have recognized how ignorant I was
+of every party and every public man in Ireland; how dependent on his
+good guidance; how I never failed save in rejecting, never succeeded
+save in profiting by his wise and politic counsels.”
+
+“Is your Lordship prepared to deny these assertions?” said Heffernan,
+with an imperturbable coolness.
+
+“Am I not avowing my grateful sense of them?” said Lord Castlereagh,
+smiling blandly. “I feel only the more deeply your debtor, because, till
+now, I never knew the debt,--both principal and interest must be paid
+together; but seriously, Heffernan, if you wanted office, was I not the
+proper channel to have used in asking for it? Why disparage your pupil
+while extolling your system?”
+
+“You did my system but little credit, my Lord,” replied Heffernan, with
+an accent as unmoved as before; “you bought votes when you should
+have bought the voters themselves; you deemed the Bill of Union the
+consummation of Irish policy,--it is only the first act of the piece.
+You were not the first general who thought he beat the enemy when he
+drove in the pickets.”
+
+“Would my tactics have been better had I made one of my spies a
+major-general, Mr. Heffernan?” said Lord Castlereagh, sneeringly.
+
+“Safer, my lord,--far safer,” said Heffernan, “for he might not have
+exposed you afterwards. But I think this is my hotel; and I must say it
+is the first time in my life that I have closed an interview with your
+Lordship without regret.”
+
+“Am I to hope it will be the last?” said Lord Castle-reagh, laughing.
+
+“The last interview, my Lord, or the last occasion of regretting its
+shortness?” said Heffernan, with a slight anxiety of voice.
+
+“Whichever Mr. Heffernan opines most to his advantage,” was the cool
+reply.
+
+“The former, with your permission, my Lord,” said Heffernan, as a flush
+suffused his cheek. “I wish your Lordship a very good night.”
+
+“Good-night, good-night! Stay, Thomas, Mr. Heffernan has forgotten his
+gloves.”
+
+“Thanks, my Lord; they were not left as a gage of battle, I assure you.”
+
+“I feel certain of it,” said Lord Castlereagh, laughing. “Good-night,
+once more.”
+
+The carriage rolled on, and Mr. Heffernan stood for an instant gazing
+after it through the gloom.
+
+“I might have known it,” muttered he to himself; “these lords are the
+only people who do stick to each other nowadays.” Then, after a pause,
+he added, “Drogheda is right, by Jove! there 's no playing against 'four
+by honors.'”
+
+And with this reflection he slowly entered the hotel, and repaired to
+his chamber.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXI. A BIT OF B Y-P L A Y.
+
+Reverses of fortune might be far more easily supported, if they did not
+entail, as their inevitable consequence, the association with those
+all of whose tastes, habits, and opinions run in a new and different
+channel. It is a terrible aggravation to the loss of those comforts
+which habit has rendered necessaries, to unlearn the usages of a certain
+condition, and adopt those of a class beneath us,--or, what is still
+worse, engage in the daily, hourly conflict between our means and our
+requirements.
+
+Perhaps Lady Eleanor Darcy and her daughter never really felt the
+meaning of their changed condition, nor understood its poignancy, till
+they saw themselves as residents of Mrs. Fumbally's boarding-house,
+whither Mr. Dempsey's polite attentions had conducted them. It was to
+no want of respect on that lady's part that any portion of this
+feeling could be traced. “The Panther” had really behaved with the most
+dignified consideration; and while her new guests were presented as
+Mrs. and Miss Gwynne, intimated, by a hundred little adroit devices
+of manner, that their real rank and title were regarded by her as
+inviolable secrets,--not the less likely to be respected that she was
+herself ignorant of both. Heaven knows what secret anguish the retention
+of these facts cost poor Paul! secrecy being with him a quality
+something like Acres' courage, which “oozed out of his fingers' ends.”
+ Mr. Dempsey hated those miserly souls that can treasure up a fact for
+their own personal enjoyment, and yet never invite a neighbor to
+partake of it; and it was a very inefficient consolation to him, in this
+instance, to throw a mysterious cloak over the strangers, and, by an air
+of profound consciousness, seek to impose on the other boarders. He
+made less scruple about what he deemed his own share of the mystery;
+and scarcely had Mrs. Fumbally performed the honors of the two small
+chambers destined for Lady Eleanor and Helen, than Paul followed her to
+the little apartment familiarly termed her “den,” and shutting the door,
+with an appearance of deep caution, took his place opposite to her at
+the fire.
+
+“Well, Mr. Dempsey,” said Mrs. Fumbally, “now that all is done
+and settled,--now that I have taken these ladies into the
+'Establishment,'”--a very favorite designation of Mrs. Fum's when she
+meant to be imposing,--“I hope I am not unreasonable iu expecting a full
+and complete account from you of who they are, whence they came, and, in
+fact, every particular necessary to satisfy me concerning them.”
+
+“Mrs. Gwynne! Miss Gwynne! mother and daughter--Captain Gwynne, the
+father, on the recruiting staff in the Isle of Skye, or, if you like it
+better, with his regiment at St. John's. Mrs. G------, a Miss Rickaby,
+one of the Rickabys of Pwhlmdlwmm, North Wales--ancient family--small
+estate--all spent--obliged to live retired--till--till--no matter
+what--a son comes of age--to sign something--or anything that way--”
+
+“This is all fiddle-faddle, Mr. Dempsey,” said Mrs. Fum, with an
+expression that seemed to say, “Take care how you trifle with me.”
+
+“To be sure it is,” rejoined Paul; “all lies, every word of it. What
+do you say, then, if we have her the Widow Gwynne--husband shot at
+Bergen-op-Zoom--”
+
+“I say, Mr. Dempsey, that if you wish me to keep your secret before the
+other boarders--”
+
+“The best way is never to tell it to you--eh, Mrs. Fum? Well, come, I
+will be open. Name, Gwynne--place of abode unknown--family ditto--means
+supposed to be ample--daughter charming--so very much so, indeed,
+that if Paul Dempsey were only what he ought--the Dempsey of Dempsey's
+Grove--”
+
+“Oh, is that it?” said Mrs. Fumbally, endeavoring to smile,-“is that
+it?”
+
+“That's it,” rejoined Paul, as he drew up his shirt-collar, and adjusted
+his cravat.
+
+“Isn't she very young, Mr. Dempsey?” said Mrs. Fum, slyly.
+
+“Twenty, or thereabouts, I take it,” said Paul, carelessly,--“quite
+suitable as regards age.”
+
+“I never thought you 'd marry, Mr. Dempsey,” said Mrs. Fum, with a
+languishing look, that contrasted strangely with the habitually shrewish
+expression of the “Pauther's” face.
+
+“Can't help it, Mrs. Fum. The last of the Romans! No more Dempseys when
+I 'm gone, if I don't. Elder branch all dropped off,--last twig of the
+younger myself.”
+
+“Ah! these are considerations, indeed!” sighed the lady. “But don't you
+think that a person more like yourself in taste--more similar in opinion
+of the world? She looks proud, Mr. Dempsey; I should say, overbearingly
+proud.”
+
+“Rather proud myself, if that's all,” said Dempsey, drawing himself up,
+and protruding his chin with a most comic imitation of dignity.
+
+“Only becomingly so, Mr. Dempsey,--a proper sense of self-respect, a due
+feeling for your future position in life,--I never saw more than that, I
+must say. Now, I could n't help remarking the way that young lady threw
+herself into the chair, and the glance she gave at the room. It
+was number eight, Mr. Dempsey, with the chintz furniture, and the
+looking-glass over the chimney! Well, really you 'd say, it was poor
+Leonard's room, with the settee bed in the corner,--the look she gave
+it!”
+
+“Indeed!” exclaimed Dempsey, who really felt horrified at this
+undervaluing judgment of what every boarder regarded as the very sanctum
+of the Fumbally Temple.
+
+“Truth, every word of it!” resumed Mrs. Fum. “I thought my ears
+deceived me, as she said to her mother, 'Oh, it 's all very neat and
+clean!'--neat and clean, Mr. Dempsey! The elegant rug which I worked
+myself--the pointer--and the wild duck.”
+
+“Like life, by Jove, if it was n't that the dog has only three legs.”
+
+“Perspective, Mr. Dempsey, don't forget its perspective; and if the
+bird's wings are maroon, I could n't help it, it was the only color to
+be had in the town.”
+
+“The group is fine,--devilish fine!” said Paul, with the air of one whose
+word was final.
+
+“'Neat and clean' were the expressions she used. I could have cried as
+I heard it.” Here the lady, probably in consideration for the omission,
+wiped her eyes, and dropped her voice to a very sympathetic key.
+“She meant it well, depend upon it, Mrs. Fum, she meant it well.”
+
+“And the old lady,” resumed Mrs. Fumbally, deaf to every consolation,
+“lay back in her chair this way, and said, 'Oh, it will all do very
+well,--you 'll not find us troublesome, Mrs. Flumary!' I haven't been
+the head of this establishment eight-and-twenty years to be called
+Flumary. How these airs are to be tolerated by the other boarders, I'm
+sure is more than I can say.”
+
+It appeared more than Mr. Dempsey could say also, if one might pronounce
+from the woe-begone expression of his face; for, up to this moment
+totally wrapped up in the mysterious portion of the affair, he had lost
+sight of all the conflicting interests this sudden advent would call
+into activity.
+
+“That wasn't all,” continued Mrs. Fumbally; “for when I told them
+the dinner-hour was five, the old lady interrupted me with, 'For the
+present, with your permission, we should prefer dining at six.' Did any
+one ever hear the like? I 'll have a pretty rebellion in the house, when
+it gets out! Mrs. Mackay will have her tea upstairs every night; Mr.
+Dunlop will always breakfast in bed. I would n't be surprised if Miss
+Boyle stood out for broth in the middle of the day.”
+
+“Oh!” exclaimed Paul, holding up both hands in horror.
+
+“I vow and protest, I expect that next!” exclaimed Mrs. Fum, as folding
+her arms, and fixing her eyes rigidly on the grate, she sat, the ideal
+of abused and injured benevolence. “Indeed, Mr. Dempsey,” said she,
+after a long silence on both sides, “it would be a great breach of the
+regard many years of intimacy with you has formed, if I did not say,
+that your affections are misplaced. Beauty is a perishable gift.”
+
+Paul looked at Mrs. Fumbally, and seemed struck with the truth of her
+remark.
+
+“But the qualities of the miud, Mr. Dempsey, those rare endowments that
+make happy the home and hearth. You 're fond of beef hash with pickled
+onions,” said she, smiling sweetly; “well, you shall have one to-day.”
+
+“Good creature!” muttered Paul, while he pressed her hand
+affectionately. “The best heart in the world!”
+
+“Ah, yes,” sighed the lady, half soliloquizing, “conformity of
+temper,--the pliancy of the reed,--the tender attachment of the ivy.”
+
+Paul coughed, and drew himself up proudly, and, as if a sudden thought
+occurred to him that he resembled the oak of the forest, he planted his
+feet firmly, and stood stiff and erect.
+
+“You are not half careful enough about yourself, Mr. Dempsey,--never
+attend to changing your damp clothes,--and I assure you the climate here
+requires it; and when you come in cold and wet, you should always step
+in here, on your way upstairs, and take a little something warm and
+cordial. I don't know if you approve of this,” suiting the action to the
+words. Mrs. Fum had opened a small cupboard in the wall, and taken out
+a quaint-looking flask, and a very diminutive glass.
+
+“Nectar, by Jove,--downright nectar!”
+
+“Made with some white currants and ginger,” chimed in Mrs. Fum, simply,
+as if to imply, “See what skill can effect; behold the magic power of
+intelligence!”
+
+“White currants and ginger!” echoed Paul, holding out the glass to be
+refilled.
+
+“A trifle of spirits, of course.”
+
+“Of course! could n't be comforting without it.”
+
+“That's what poor dear Fumbally always called, 'Ye know, ye know!' It
+was his droll way of saying 'Noyau!'” Here Mrs. F. displayed a conflict
+of smiles and tears, a perfect April landscape on her features. “He had
+such spirits!”
+
+“I don't wonder, if he primed himself with this often,” said Dempsey,
+who at last relinquished his glass, but with evident unwillingness.
+
+[Illustration: 266]
+
+“He used to say that his was a happy home!” sobbed Mrs. Fum, while she
+pressed her handkerchief to her face.
+
+Paul did not well know what he should say, or if, indeed, he was called
+upon to utter a sentiment at all; but he thought he could have drunk
+another glass to the late Fum's memory, if his widow had n't kept such a
+tight grip of the flask.
+
+“Oh, Mr. Dempsey, who could have thought it would come to this?” The
+sorrowful drooping of her eyelids, as she spoke, seemed to intimate
+an allusion to the low state of the decanter, and Dempsey at once
+replied,--
+
+“There's a very honest glass in it still.”
+
+“Kind--kind creature!” sobbed Mrs. Fum, as she poured out the last of
+the liquor. And Paul was sorely puzzled, whether the encomium applied to
+the defunct or himself. “Do you know, Mr. Dempsey,” here she gave a kind
+of hysterical giggle, that might take any turn,--hilarious, or the
+reverse, as events should dictate,--“do you know that as I see you
+there, standing before the fire, looking so pleasant and cheerful, so
+much at home, as a body might say, I can't help fancying a great
+resemblance between you and my poor dear Fum. He was older than you,”
+ said she, rapidly, as a slight cloud passed over Paul's features;-“older
+and stouter, but he had the same jocose smile, the same merry voice, and
+even that little fidgety habit with the hands. I know you 'll forgive
+me,--even that was his.”
+
+This was in all probability strictly correct, inasmuch as for several
+years before his demise the gifted individual had labored under a
+perpetual “delirium tremens.”
+
+“He rather liked this kind of thing,” said Paul, pantomiming the action
+of drinking with his now empty glass.
+
+“In moderation,-only in moderation.”
+
+“I 've heard that it disagreed with him,” rejoined Paul, who, not
+pleased with his counterpart, resolved on showing a knowledge of his
+habits.
+
+“So it did,” sighed Mrs. Fum; “and he gave it up in consequence.”
+
+“I heard that, too,” said Paul; and then muttered to himself, “on the
+morning he died.”
+
+A gentle tap at the door now broke in upon the colloquy, and a very
+slatternly servant woman, with bare legs and feet, made her appearance.
+
+“What d'ye want, Biddy?” asked her mistress, in an angry voice. “I 'm
+just settling accounts with Mr. Dempsey, and you bounce in as if the
+house was on fire.”
+
+“It 's just himsel 's wanted,” replied the northern maiden; “the leddie
+canna get on ava without him, he maun come up to number 'eight,' as soon
+as he can.”
+
+“I 'm ready,” quoth Paul, as he turned to arrange his cravat, and run
+his hand through his hair; “I 'm at their service.”
+
+“Remember, Mr. Dempsey, remember, that what I've spoken to you this day
+is in the strictest confidence. If matters have proceeded far with the
+young lady upstairs, if your heart, if hers be really engaged, forget
+everything,--forget _me_.”
+
+Mrs. Fumbally's emotion had so overpowered her towards the end of her
+speech, that she rushed into an adjoining closet and clapped-to the
+door, an obstacle that only acted as a sound-board to her sobs, and from
+which Paul hastened with equal rapidity to escape.
+
+An entire hemisphere might have separated the small chamber where Mr.
+Dempsey's late interview took place from the apartment on the first
+floor, to which he now was summoned, and so, to do him justice, did Paul
+himself feel; and not all the stimulating properties of that pleasant
+cordial could allay certain tremors of the heart, as he turned the
+handle of the door.
+
+Lady Eleanor was seated at a writing-table, and Helen beside her,
+working, as Mr. Dempsey entered, and, after a variety of salutations,
+took a chair, about the middle of the room, depositing his hat and
+umbrella beside him.
+
+“It would seem, Mr. Dempsey,” said Lady Eleanor, with a very benign
+smile, “it would seem that we have made a very silly mistake; one, I
+am bound to say, you are quite exonerated from any share in, and the
+confession of which will, doubtless, exhibit my own and my daughter's
+cleverness in a very questionable light before you. Do you know, Mr.
+Dempsey, we believed this to be an inn.”
+
+“An inn!” broke in Paul, with uplifted hands.
+
+“Yes, and it was only by mere accident we have discovered our error, and
+that we are actually in a boarding-house. Pray now, Helen, do not laugh,
+the blunder is quite provoking enough already.”
+
+Why Miss Darcy should laugh, and what there could be to warrant the use
+of the epithet, “provoking,” Paul might have been broken on the wheel
+without being able to guess, while Lady Eleanor went on,--
+
+“Now, it would seem customary for the guests to adopt here certain hours
+in common,--breakfasting, dining together, and associating like the
+members of one family.”
+
+Paul nodded an assent, and she resumed.
+
+“I need scarcely observe to _you_, Mr. Dempsey, how very unsuited either
+myself or Miss Darcy would be to such an assembly, if even present
+circumstances did not more than ever enjoin a life of strict
+retirement.”
+
+“Dear me!” exclaimed Paul in a tone of deprecation, “there never was
+anything more select than this. Mother Fum never admits without a
+reference; I can show you the advertisement in the Derry papers. We kept
+the Collector out for two months, till he brought us a regular bill of
+health, as a body might say.”
+
+“Could you persuade them to let us remain in 'Quarantine,' then, for a
+few days?” said Helen, smiling.
+
+“Oh, no! Helen, nothing of the kind; Mr. Dempsey must not be put to any
+troublesome negotiations, on our account. There surely must be an hotel
+of some sort in the town.”
+
+“This is a nice mess!” muttered Paul, who began to anticipate some of
+the miseries his good nature might cost him.
+
+“A few days, a week at furthest, I hope, will enable us to communicate
+with our law adviser, and decide upon some more suitable abode. Could
+you, then, for the meanwhile, suggest a comfortable inn, or if not, a
+lodging in the town?”
+
+Paul wrung his hands in dismay, but uttered not a syllable.
+
+“To be candid, Mr. Dempsey,” said Helen, “my father has a horror of
+these kind of places, and you could recommend us no country inn, however
+humble, where he would not be better pleased to hear of our taking
+refuge.”
+
+“But, Fumbally's! the best-known boarding-house in the North.”
+
+“I should be sincerely grieved, to be understood as uttering one
+syllable in its disparagement,” rejoined Lady Eleanor; “I could not
+ask for a more satisfactory voucher of its respectability; but ours are
+peculiar circumstances.”
+
+“Only a pound a week,” struck in Paul, “with extras.”
+
+“Nothing could be more reasonable; but pray understand me, I speak of
+course in great ignorance, but it would appear to me that persons living
+together in this fashion have a kind of right to know something of those
+who present themselves for the first time amongst them. Now, there are
+many reasons why neither my daughter nor myself would like to submit to
+this species of inquiry.”
+
+“I 'll settle all that,” broke in Paul; “leave that to me, and you 'll
+have no further trouble about it.”
+
+“You must excuse my reliance even on such discretion,” said Lady
+Eleanor, with more hauteur than before.
+
+“Are we to understand that there is neither inn nor lodging-house to be
+found?” said Helen.
+
+“Plenty of both, but full of bagmen,” ejaculated Paul, whose
+contrivances were all breaking down beneath him.
+
+“What is to be done?” exclaimed Lady Eleanor to her daughter.
+
+“Lord bless you!” cried Paul, in a whining voice, “if you only come down
+amongst them with that great frill round your neck you wore the first
+day I saw you at 'The Corvy,' you 'll scare them so, they 'll never have
+courage to utter a word. There was Miss Daly--when she was here--”
+
+“Miss Daly,-Miss Maria Daly!” exclaimed both ladies together.
+
+“Miss Maria Daly,” repeated Dempsey, with an undue emphasis on every
+syllable. “She spent the summer with us on the coast.”
+
+“Where had she resided up to that time, may I ask?” said Lady Eleanor,
+hastily.
+
+“At 'The Corvy'--always at 'The Corvy,' until your arrival.”
+
+“Oh, Helen, think of this!” whispered Lady Eleanor, in a voice tremulous
+with agitation. “Think what sacrifices we have exacted from our
+friends,--and now, to learn that while we stand hesitating about
+encountering the inconveniences of our lot, that we have been subjecting
+another to that very same difficulty from which we shrink.” Then,
+turning to Mr. Dempsey, she added,--
+
+“I need not observe, sir, that while I desire no mystery to be thrown
+around our arrival here, I will not be the less grateful for any
+restraint the good company may impose on themselves as to inquiries
+concerning us. We are really not worth the attention, and I should
+be sorry to impose upon kind credulity by any imaginary claim to
+distinction.”
+
+“You'll dine below, then?” asked Paul, far more eager to ascertain this
+fact than any reasons that induced it.
+
+Lady Eleanor bowed; and Dempsey, with a face beaming with delight, arose
+to withdraw and communicate the happy news to Mrs. Fumbally.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXII. A GLANCE AT MRS. FUMBALLY'S.
+
+Great as Lady Eleanor's objection was to subjecting herself or her
+daughter to the contact of a boarding-house party, when the resolve
+was once taken the matter cost her far less thought or anxiety than it
+occasioned to the other inmates of the “Establishment.” It is only
+in such segments of the great world that curiosity reaches its true
+intensity, and the desire to know every circumstance of one's neighbor
+becomes an absorbing passion. A distrustful impression that nobody
+is playing on “the square “--that every one has some special cause
+of concealment, some hidden shame--seems the presiding tone of these
+places.
+
+Mrs. Fumbally's was no exception to the rule, and now that the residents
+had been so long acquainted that the personal character and fortune of
+each was known to all, the announcement of a new arrival caused the most
+lively sensations of anxiety.
+
+Directories were ransacked for the name of Gwynne, and every separate
+owner of the appellation canvassed and discussed. Army lists were
+interrogated and conned over. Dempsey himself was examined for two hours
+before a “Committee of the whole house;” and though his inventive
+powers were no mean gifts, certain discrepancies, certain unexplained
+difficulties, did not fail to strike the acute tribunal, and he was
+dismissed as unworthy of credit. Baffled, not beaten, each retired to
+dress for dinner,--a ceremony, be it remarked, only in use on great
+occasions,--fully impressed with the conviction that the Gwynne case
+was a legitimate object of search and discovery.
+
+It is not necessary here to allude to the strange display of costume
+that day called forth, nor what singular extravagances in dress each
+drew from the armory of his fascinations. The collector closed the
+Custom-house an hour earlier, that he might be properly powdered for the
+occasion. Miss Boyle abandoned, “for the nonce,” her accustomed walk on
+the Banside, where the officers used to lounge, and in the privacy of
+her chamber prepared for the event. There is a tradition of her being
+seen, with a formidable array of curl-papers, so late as four in the
+afternoon. Mr. Dunlop was in a perpetual trot all day, between his
+tailor and his bootmaker, sundry alterations being required at
+a moment's notice. Mrs. Fumbally herself, however, eclipsed all
+competitors, as, in a robe of yellow satin, spotted with red, she made
+her appearance in the drawing-room; her head-dress being a turban of the
+same prevailing colors, but ornamented by a drooping plume of feathers
+and spangles so very umbrageous and pendent, that she looked like a
+weeping-ash clad in tinsel. A crimson brooch of vast proportions--which,
+on near inspection, turned out to be a portrait of the departed
+Fumbally, but whose colors were, unhappily, not “fast ones”--confined
+a scarf of green velvet, from which envious time had worn off all the
+pile, and left a “sear and yellow” stubble everywhere perceptible.
+
+Whether Mrs. Fum's robe had been devised at a period when dresses were
+worn much shorter, or that, from being very tall, a sufficiency of the
+material could not be obtained,--but true it is, her costume would have
+been almost national in certain Scotch regiments, and necessitated,
+for modesty's sake, a peculiar species of ducking trip, that, with the
+nodding motion of her head, gave her the gait of a kangaroo.
+
+Scarcely had the various individuals time to give a cursory glance
+at their neighbors' finery, when Lady Eleanor appeared leaning on her
+daughter's arm. Mr. Dempsey had waited for above half an hour outside
+the door to offer his escort, which being coldly but civilly declined,
+the ladies entered.
+
+Mrs. Fumbally rose to meet her guests, and was about to proceed in due
+form with a series of introducings, when Lady Eleanor cut her short by
+a very slight but courteous salutation to the company collectively, and
+then sat down.
+
+The most insufferable assumption of superiority is never half so
+chilling in its effect upon underbred people as the calm quietude of
+good manners.
+
+And thus the party were more repelled by Lady Eleanor and her daughter's
+easy bearing than they would have felt at any outrageous pretension.
+The elegant simplicity of their dress, too, seemed to rebuke the stage
+finery of the others, and very uneasy glances met and were interchanged
+at this new companionship. A few whispered words, an occasional
+courageous effort to talk aloud, suddenly ending in a cough, and an
+uneasy glance at the large silver watch over the chimney, were all that
+took place, when the uncombed head of a waiter, hired specially for the
+day, gave the announcement that dinner was served.
+
+“Mr. Dempsey--Mr. Dunlop,” said Mrs. Fumbally, with a gesture towards
+Lady Eleanor and her daughter. The gentlemen both advanced a step and
+then stood stock still, as Lady Eleanor, drawing her shawl around her
+with one hand, slipped the other within her daughter's arm. Every eye
+was now turned towards Mr. Dunlop, who was a kind of recognized type
+of high life; and he, feeling the urgency of the moment, made a step in
+advance, and with extended arm, said, “May I have the honor to offer my
+arm?”
+
+“With your leave, I'll take my daughter's, sir,” said Lady Eleanor,
+coldly; and without paying the least attention to the various
+significant glances around her, she walked forward to the dinner-room.
+
+The chilling reserve produced by the new arrivals had given an air of
+decorous quietude to the dinner, which, if gratifying to Lady Eleanor
+and Helen, was very far from being so to the others, and as the
+meal proceeded, certain low mutterings--the ground swell of a coming
+storm--announced the growing feeling of displeasure amongst them.
+Lady Eleanor and Miss Darcy were too unconscious of having offered any
+umbrage to the party to notice these indications of discontent; nor did
+they remark that Mr.
+
+Dempsey himself was becoming overwhelmed by the swelling waves of
+popular indignation.
+
+A very curt monosyllable had met Lady Eleanor in the two efforts she
+had made at conversation with her neighbor, and she was perhaps not
+very sorry to find that table-talk was not a regulation of the
+“Establishment”.
+
+Had Lady Eleanor or Helen been disposed to care for it, they might
+have perceived that the dinner itself was not less anomalous than the
+company, and like them suffered sorely from being over-dressed. They,
+however, affected to eat, and seemed satisfied with everything, resolved
+that, having encountered the ordeal, they would go through with it to
+the last. The observances of the table had one merit in the Fumbally
+household; they were conducted with no unnecessary tediousness. The
+courses--if we dare so apply the name to an irregular skirmish of meats,
+hot, cold, and _réchauffé_--followed rapidly, the guests ate equally so,
+and the table presented a scene, if not of convivial enjoyment, at least
+of bustle and animation, that supplied its place. This movement, so to
+call it, was sufficiently new to amuse Helen Darcy, who, less pained
+than her mother at their companionship, could not help relishing many
+of the eccentric features of the scene; everything in the dress, manner,
+tone of voice, and bearing of the company presenting such a striking
+contrast to all she had been used to. This enjoyment on her part,
+although regulated by the strictest good-breeding, was perceived, or
+rather suspected, by some of the ladies present, and looks of very
+unmistakable anger were darted towards her from the end of the table, so
+that both mother and daughter felt the moment a very welcome one when a
+regiment of small decanters were set down on the board, and the ladies
+rose to withdraw.
+
+If Lady Eleanor had consulted her own ardent wishes, she would at once
+have retired to her room, but she had resolved on the whole sacrifice,
+and took her place in the drawing-room, determined to follow in every
+respect the usages around her. Mrs. Fumbally addressed a few civil words
+to her, and then left the room to look after the cares of the household.
+The group of seven ladies who remained, formed themselves into a coterie
+apart, and producing from sundry bags and baskets little specimens of
+female handiwork, began arranging their cottons and worsteds with a most
+praiseworthy activity.
+
+While Lady Eleanor sat with folded bands and half-closed lids, sunk in
+her own meditations, Helen arose and walked towards a book-shelf, where
+some well-thumbed volumes were lying. An odd volume of “Delphine,”
+ a “Treatise on Domestic Cookery,” and “Moore's Zeluco” were not
+attractive, and she sauntered to the piano, on which were scattered
+some of the songs from the “Siege of Belgrade,” the then popular piece;
+certain comic melodies lay also among them, inscribed with the name of
+Lawrence M'Farland, a gentleman whom they had heard addressed several
+times during dinner. While Helen turned over the music pages, the eyes
+of the others were riveted on her; and when she ran her fingers over the
+keys of the cracked old instrument, and burst into an involuntary laugh
+at its discordant tones, a burst of unequivocal indignation could no
+longer be restrained.
+
+“I declare, Miss M'Corde,” said an old lady with a paralytic shake in
+her head, and a most villanous expression in her one eye,--“I declare I
+would speak to her, if I was in your place.”
+
+“Unquestionably,” exclaimed another, whose face was purple with
+excitement; and thus encouraged, a very thin and very tall personage,
+with a long, slender nose tipped with pink, and light red hair in
+ringlets, arose from her seat, and approached where Helen was standing.
+
+“You are perhaps not aware, ma'am,” said she, with a mincing, lisping
+accent, the very essence of gentility, “that this instrument is not a
+'house piano.'”
+
+Helen blushed slightly at the address, but could not for her life guess
+what the words meant. She had heard of grand pianos and square pianos,
+of cottage pianos, but never of “house pianos,” and she answered in the
+most simple of voices, “Indeed.”
+
+“No, ma'am, it is not; it belongs to your very humble servant,”--here
+she courtesied to the ground,-“who regrets deeply that its tone should
+not have more of your approbation.”
+
+“And I, ma'am,” said a fat old lady, waddling over, and wheezing
+as though she should choke, “I have to express my sorrow that the
+book-shelf, which you have just ransacked, should not present something
+worthy of your notice. The volumes are mine.”
+
+“And perhaps, ma'am,” cried a third, a little meagre figure, with a
+voice like a nutmeg-grater, “you could persuade the old lady, who I
+presume is your mother, to take her feet off that worked stool. When I
+made it, I scarcely calculated on the honor it now enjoys!”
+
+Lady Eleanor looked up at this instant, and although unconscious of what
+was passing, seeing Helen, whose face was now crimson, standing in the
+midst of a very excited group, she arose hastily, and said,--
+
+“Helen, dearest, is there anything the matter?”
+
+“I should say there was, ma'am,” interposed the very fat lady,--“I
+should be disposed to say there was a great deal the matter. That to
+make use of private articles as if they were for house use, to thump one
+lady's piano, to toss another lady's books, to make oneself comfortable
+in a chair specially provided for the oldest boarder, with one's feet
+on another lady's footstool,--these are liberties, ma'am, which become
+something more than freedoms when taken by unknown individuals.”
+
+“I beg you will forgive my daughter and myself,” said Lady Eleanor, with
+an air of real regret; “our total ignorance--”
+
+“I thought as much, indeed,” muttered she of the shaking head; “there is
+no other word for it.”
+
+“You are quite correct, ma'am,” said Lady Eleanor, at once addressing
+her in the most apologetic of voices,-“I cannot but repeat the word; our
+very great ignorance of the usages observed here is our only excuse, and
+I beg you to believe us incapable of taking such liberties in future.”
+
+If anything could have disarmed the wrath of this Holy Alliance, the
+manner in which these words were uttered might have done so. Far from
+it, however. When the softer sex are deficient in breeding, mercy
+is scarcely one of their social attributes. Had Lady Eleanor assumed
+towards them the manner with which in other days she had repelled vulgar
+attempts at familiarity, they would in all probability have shrunk
+back, abashed and ashamed; but her yielding suggested boldness, and
+they advanced, with something like what in Cossack warfare is termed a
+“Hurra,” an indiscriminate clang of voices being raised in reprobation
+of every supposed outrage the unhappy strangers had inflicted on the
+company. Amid this Babel of accusation Lady Eleanor could distinguish
+nothing, and while, overwhelmed by the torrent, she was preparing
+to take her daughter's arm and withdraw, the door which led into the
+dining-room was suddenly thrown open, and the convivial party entered
+_en masse_.
+
+[Illustration: 280]
+
+“Here's a shindy, by George!” cried Mr. M'Farland,--the Pickle, and the
+wit of the Establishment,--“I say, see how the new ones are getting it!”
+
+While Mr. Dempsey hurried away to seek Mrs. Fumbally herself, the
+confusion and uproar increased; the loud, coarse laughter of the
+“Gentlemen” being added to the wrathful violence of the softer sex.
+Lady Eleanor, how-ever, had drawn her daughter to her side, and
+without uttering a word, proceeded to leave the room. To this course a
+considerable obstacle presented itself in the shape of the Collector,
+who, with expanded legs, and hands thrust deep into his side-pockets,
+stood against the door.
+
+“Against the ninth general rule, ma'am, which you may read in the frame
+over the chimney!” exclaimed he, in a voice somewhat more faltering and
+thicker than became a respectable official. “No lady or gentleman can
+leave the room while any dispute in which they are concerned remains
+unsettled. Isn't that it, M'Farland?” cried he, as the young gentleman
+alluded to took down the law-table from its place.
+
+“All right,” replied M'Farland; “the very best rule in the house.
+Without it, all the rows would take place in private! Now for a court of
+inquiry. Mr. Dunlop, you are for the prosecution, and can't sit.”
+
+“May I beg, sir, you will permit us to pass out?” said Lady Eleanor, in
+a voice whose composure was slightly shaken.
+
+“Can't be, ma'am; in contravention of all law,” rejoined the Collector.
+
+“Where is Mr. Dempsey?” whispered Helen, in her despair; and though the
+words were uttered in a low voice, one of the ladies overheard them.
+A general titter ran immediately around, only arrested by the fat lady
+exclaiming aloud, “Shameless minx!”
+
+A very loud hubbub of voices outside now rivalled the tumult within,
+amid which one most welcome was distinguished by Helen.
+
+“Oh, mamma, how fortunate! I hear Tate's voice.”
+
+“It's me,--it's Mrs. Fumbally,” cried that lady, at the same moment
+tapping sharply at the door.
+
+“No matter, can't open the door now. Court is about to sit,” replied the
+Collector. “Mrs. Gwynne stands arraigned for--for what is't? There 's no
+use in making that clatter; the door shall not be opened.”
+
+This speech was scarcely uttered, when a tremendous bang was heard, and
+the worthy Collector, with the door over him, was hurled on his face in
+the midst of the apartment, upsetting in his progress a round table and
+a lamp over the assembled group of ladies.
+
+Screams of terror, rage, pain, and laughter were now commingled; and
+while some assisted the prostrate official to rise, and sprinkled his
+temples with water, others bestowed their attentions on the discomfited
+fair, whose lustre was sadly diminished by lamp-oil and bruises, while
+a third section, of which M'Farland was chief, lay back in their chairs
+and laughed vociferously. Meanwhile, how and when nobody could tell,
+Lady Eleanor and her daughter had escaped and gained their apartments in
+safety.
+
+A more rueful scene than the room presented need not be imagined. The
+Collector, whose nose bled profusely, sat pale, half fainting, in
+one corner, while some kind friends labored to stop the bleeding, and
+restore him to animation. Lamentations of the most poignant grief were
+uttered over silks, satins, and tabinets irretrievably ruined; while
+the paralytic lady having broken the ribbon of her cap, her head rolled
+about fearfully, and even threatened to come clean off altogether. As
+for poor Mrs. Fumbally, she flew from place to place, in a perfect agony
+of affliction; now wringing her hands over the prostrate door, now over
+the fragments of the lamp, and now endeavoring to restore the table,
+which, despite all her efforts, would not stand upon two legs. But the
+most miserable figure of all was Paul Dempsey, who saw no footing for
+himself anywhere. Lady Eleanor and Helen must detest him to the day
+of his death. The boarders could never forgive him. Mrs. Fum would as
+certainly regard him as the author of all evil, and the Collector would
+inevitably begin dunning him for an unsettled balance of fourteen and
+ninepence, lost at “Spoiled five” two winters before.
+
+Already, indeed, symptoms of his unpopularity began to show themselves.
+Angry looks and spiteful glances were directed towards him, amidst
+muttered expressions of displeasure. How far these manifestations might
+have proceeded there is no saying, had not the attention of the company
+been drawn to the sudden noise of a carriage stopping at the street
+door.
+
+“Going, flitting, evacuating the territory!” exclaimed M'Farland, as
+from an open window he contemplated the process of packing a post-chaise
+with several heavy trunks and portmanteaus.
+
+“The Gwynnes!” muttered the Collector, with his handkerchief to his
+face.
+
+“Even so! flying with camp equipage and all. There stands your victor,
+that little old fellow with the broad shoulders. I say, come here a
+moment,” called he aloud, making a sign for Tate to approach. “The
+Collector is not in the least angry for what's happened; he knew you did
+n't mean anything serious. Pray, who are these ladies, your mistresses I
+mean?”
+
+“Lady Eleanor Darcy and Miss Darcy, of Gwynne Abbey,” replied Tate,
+sturdily, as he gave the names with a most emphatic distinctness.
+
+“The devil it was!” exclaimed M'Farland.
+
+“By my conscience, ye may well wonder at being in such company, sir,”
+ said Tate, laughing, and resuming his place just in time to assist
+Lady Eleanor to ascend the steps. Helen quickly followed, the door was
+slammed to, and, Tate mounting with the alacrity of a town footman, the
+chaise set out at a brisk pace down the street.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIII. THE COAST IN WINTER
+
+Although Tate Sullivan had arrived in Coleraine and provided himself
+with a chaise expressly to bring his mistress and her daughter back
+to “The Corvy,”--from which the sheriff's officers had retired in
+discomfiture, on discovering the loss of their warrants,--Lady Eleanor,
+dreading a renewal of the law proceedings, had determined never to
+return thither.
+
+From the postilion they learned that a small but not uncomfortable
+lodging could be had near the little village of Port Ballintray, and to
+this spot they now directed their course. The transformation of a little
+summer watering-place into the dismal village of some poor fishermen in
+winter, is a sad spectacle; nor was the picture relieved by the presence
+of the fragments of a large vessel, which, lately lost with all its
+crew, hung on the rocks, thumping and clattering with every motion of
+the waves. By the faint moonlight Lady Eleanor and her daughter could
+mark the outlines of figures, as they waded in the tide or clambered
+along the rocks, stripping the last remains of the noble craft, and
+contending with each other for the spoils of the dead.
+
+If the scene itself was a sorrowful one, it was no less painful to their
+eyes from feeling a terrible similitude between their own fortunes and
+that of the wrecked vessel; the gallant ship, meant to float in its
+pride over the ocean, now a broken and shattered wreck, falling asunder
+with each stroke of the sea!
+
+“How like and yet how unlike!” sighed Lady Eleanor; “if these crushed
+and shattered timbers have no feeling in the hour of adversity, yet are
+they denied the glorious hopefulness that in the saddest moments clings
+to humanity. Ours is shipwreck, too, but, taken at its worst, is only
+temporary calamity!”
+
+Helen pressed her mother's hands with fervor to her lips; perhaps never
+had she loved her with more intensity than at that instant.
+
+The chaise drew up at the door of a little cabin, built at the foot of,
+and, as it actually seemed, against a steep rocky cliff of great height.
+In summer it was regarded as one of the best among the surrounding
+lodgings, but now it looked dreary enough. A fishing-boat, set up on
+one end, formed a kind of sheltering porch to the doorway; while spars,
+masts, and oars were lashed upon the thatch, to serve as a protection
+against the dreadful gales of winter.
+
+A childless widow was the only occupant, whose scanty livelihood was
+eked out by letting lodgings to the summer visitors,--a precarious
+subsistence, which in bad seasons, and they were not unfrequent,
+failed altogether. It was with no small share of wonderment that Mary
+Spellan--or “old Molly,” as the village more usually called her--saw a
+carriage draw up to the cabin door late of a dark night in winter; nor
+was this feeling unalloyed by a very strong tincture of suspicion, for
+Molly was an Antrim woman, and had her proportion of the qualities, good
+and bad, of the “Black North.”
+
+“They 'll no be makin' a stay on't,” said she to the postboy, who,
+in his capacity of interpreter, had got down to explain to Molly
+the requirements of the strangers. “They 'll be here to-day and awa
+to-morrow, I 'm thenkin',” said she, with habitual and native distrust.
+“And what for wull I make a 'hottle'”--no greater indignity could be
+offered to the lodging-house keeper than to compare the accommodation
+in any respect with that of an hotel--“of my wee bit house, takin' out
+linen and a' the rest o' it for maybe a day or twa.”
+
+Lady Eleanor, who watched from the window of the chaise the course of
+the negotiations without hearing any part of the colloquy, was impatient
+at the slow progress events seemed to take, and supposing that the
+postboy's demands were made with more regard to their habits than to old
+Molly's means of accommodation, called out,--
+
+“Tell the good woman that we are easily satisfied; and if the cabin be
+but clean and quiet--”
+
+“What's the leddie sayin'?” said Molly, who heard only a stray word, and
+that not overpleasing to her.
+
+“She 's saying it will do very well,” said the postboy, conciliatingly,
+“and 'tis maybe a whole year she 'll stay with you.”
+
+“Ech, dearee me!” sighed Molly, “it's wearisome enough to hae' them a'
+the summer, without hae'ing them in the winter too. Tell her to come
+ben, and see if she likes the place.” And with this not over-courteous
+proposal, Molly turned her back, and rolled, rather thau walked, into
+the cabin.
+
+The three little rooms which comprised the whole suite destined for
+strangers, were, in all their poverty, scrupulously clean; and Molly,
+gradually thawed by the evident pretensions of her guests, volunteered
+little additions to the furniture, as she went along, concluding with
+the very characteristic remark,--
+
+“But ye maun consider, that it's no my habit, or my likin' either, to
+hae lodgers in the winter; and af ye come, ye maun e'en pay for your
+whistle, like ither folk.”
+
+This was the arrangement that gave Lady Eleanor the least trouble; and
+though the terms demanded were in reality exorbitant, they were acceded
+to without hesitation by those who never had had occasion to make
+similar compacts, and believed that the sum was a most reasonable one.
+
+As is ever the case, the many wants and inconveniences of a restricted
+dwelling were far more placidly endured by those long habituated to
+every luxury than by their followers; and so, while Lady Eleanor and
+Helen submitted cheerfully to daily privations of one kind or other,
+Tate lived a life of everlasting complaint and grumbling over the narrow
+accommodation of the cabin, continually irritating old Molly by demands
+impossible to comply with, and suggesting the necessity of changes
+perfectly out of her power to effect. It is but justice to the faithful
+old butler to state, that to this line of conduct he was prompted by
+what he deemed due to his mistress and her high station, rather than by
+any vain hope of ever succeeding, his complaints being less demands for
+improvement than after the fashion of those “protests” which dissentient
+members of a legislature think it necessary to make in cases where
+opposition is unavailing.
+
+These half-heard mutterings of Tate were the only interruptions to a
+life of sad but tranquil monotony. Lady Eleanor and her daughter lived
+as though in a long dream; the realities around them so invested with
+sameness and uniformity that days, weeks, and months blended into each
+other, and became one commingled mass of time, undivided and unmarked.
+Of the world without they heard but little; of those dearest to them,
+absolutely nothing. The very newspapers maintained a silence on the
+subject of the expedition under Abercrombie, so that of the Knight
+himself they had no tidings whatever. Of Daly they only heard once, at
+the end of one of Bicknell's letters, one of those gloomy records of the
+law's delay; that he said, “You will be sorry to learn that Mr. Bagenal
+Daly, having omitted to appear personally or by counsel in a cause
+lately called on here, has been cast in heavy damages, and pronounced
+in contempt, neither of which inflictions will probably give him much
+uneasiness, if, as report speaks, he has gone to pass the remainder of
+his days in America. Miss Daly speaks of joining him, when she learns
+that he has fixed on any spot of future residence.” The only particle of
+consolation extractable from the letter was in a paragraph at the end,
+which ran thus: “O'Reilly's solicitor has withdrawn all the proceedings
+lately commenced, and there is an evident desire to avoid further
+litigation. I hear that for the points now in dispute an arbitration
+will be proposed. Would you feel disposed or free to accept such
+an offer, if made? Let me know this, as I should be prepared at all
+events.”
+
+Even this half-confession of a claim gave hope to the drooping spirits
+of Lady Eleanor, and she lost no time in acquainting Bicknell with her
+opinion that while they neither could nor would compromise the rights
+of their son, for any interests actually their own, and terminating
+with their lives, they would willingly adopt any arrangement that should
+remove the most pressing evils of poverty, and permit them to live
+united for the rest of their days.
+
+The severe winter of northern Ireland closed in, with all its darkening
+skies and furious storms; scattered fragments of wrecked vessels, spars,
+and ship-gear strewed the rocky coast for miles. The few cottages here
+and there were closed and barricaded as if against an enemy, the roofs
+fastened down by ropes and heavy implements of husbandry, to keep safe
+the thatch; the boats of the fishermen drawn up on land, grouped round
+the shealings in sad but not unpicturesque confusion. The ever-restless
+sea beating like thunder upon that iron shore, the dark impending clouds
+lowering over cliff and precipice, were all that the eye could mark.
+No cattle were on the hills; the sheep nestling in the little glens and
+valleys were almost undistinguishable from the depth of gloom around;
+not a man was to be seen.
+
+The little village of Port Ballintray, which a few months before
+abounded in all the sights and sounds of human intercourse, was now
+perfectly deserted. Most of the cottages were fastened on the inside;
+in some the doors, burst open by the storm, showed still more
+unquestionably that no dwellers remained; the little gardens, tended
+with such care, were now uprooted and devastated; fallen trellises and
+ruined porches were seen on every side; and even Mrs. Fumbally's, the
+pride and glory of the place, had not escaped the general wreck, and the
+flaunting archway, on which, in bright letters, her name was inscribed,
+hung pensively by one pillar, and waved like a sad pendulum, “counting
+the weary minutes over!”
+
+While nothing could less resemble the signs of habitation than the
+aspect of matters without, within a fire burned on more than one hearth,
+and a serving-woman was seen moving from place to place occupied in
+making those arrangements which bespoke the speedy arrival of visitors.
+
+It was long after nightfall that a travelling carriage and four--a rare
+sight in such a place, even in the palmiest days of summer--drew up
+at the front of the little garden, and after some delay a very old and
+feeble man was lifted out, and carried between two servants into the
+house; he was followed by another, whose firm step and erect figure
+indicated the prime of life; while after him again came a small man,
+most carefully protected by coats and comforters against the severity of
+the season. He walked lame, and in the shuddering look he gave around in
+the short transit from the carriage to the house-door, showed that such
+prospects, however grand and picturesque, had few charms for him.
+
+A short interval elapsed after the luggage was removed from the
+carriage, and then one of the servants mounted the box, the horses'
+beads were turned, and the conveyance was seen retiring by the road to
+Coleraine.
+
+The effective force of Mrs. Fum's furniture was never remarkable, in
+days of gala and parade; it was still less imposing now, when nothing
+remained save an invalided garrison of deal chairs and tables, a few
+curtainless beds, and a stray chest of drawers or two of the rudest
+fashion.
+
+The ample turf fire on the hearth of the chief sitting-room, cheering
+and bright as was its aspect, after the dark and rainy scene without
+doors, could not gladden the air of these few and comfortless movables
+into a look of welcome; and so one of the newly arrived party seemed to
+feel, as he threw his glance over the meagre-looking chamber, and in a
+half-complaining, half-inquiring tone, said,--
+
+“Don't you think, sir, they might have done this a little better? These
+windows are no defence against the wind or rain, the walls are actually
+soaked with wet; not a bit of carpet, not a chair to sit upon! I 'm
+greatly afraid for the old gentleman; if he were to be really ill in
+such a place--”
+
+A heavy fit of coughing from the inner room now seemed to corroborate
+the suspicion.
+
+“We must make the best of it, Nalty,” said the other. “Remember, the
+plan was of your own devising; there was no time for much preparation
+here, if even it had been prudent or possible to make it; and as to
+my father, I warrant you his constitution is as good as yours or mine;
+anxiety about this business has preyed upon him; but let your plan only
+succeed, and I warrant him as able to undergo fatigue and privation as
+either of us.”
+
+“His cough is very troublesome,” interposed Nalty, timidly.
+
+“About the same I have known it every winter since I was a boy,” said
+the other, carelessly. “I say, sir,” added he, louder, while he tapped
+the door with his knuckles,--“I say, sir, Nalty is afraid you have
+caught fresh cold.”
+
+“Tell him his annuity is worth three years' purchase,” said the old man
+from within, with a strange unearthly effort at a laugh. “Tell him,
+if he 'll pay five hundred pounds down, I 'll let him run his own life
+against mine in the deed.”
+
+“There, you hear that, Nalty! What say you to the proposal?”
+
+“Wonderful old man! astonishing!” muttered Nalty, evidently not
+flattered at the doubts thus suggested as to his own longevity.
+
+“He doesn't seem to like that, Bob, eh?” called out the old man, with
+another cackle.
+
+“After that age they get a new lease, sir,--actually a new lease of
+life,” whispered Nalty.
+
+Mr. O'Reilly--for it was that gentleman, who, accompanied by his father
+and confidential lawyer, formed the party--gave a dry assent to the
+proposition, and drawing his chair closer to the fire, seemed to occupy
+himself with his own thoughts. Meanwhile the old doctor continued to
+maintain a low muttering conversation with his servant, until at length
+the sounds were exchanged for a deep snoring respiration, and he slept.
+
+The appearance of a supper, which, if not very appetizing, was at least
+very welcome, partially restored the drooping spirits of Mr. Nalty, who
+now ate and talked with a degree of animation quite different from his
+former mood.
+
+“The ham is excellent, sir, and the veal very commendable,” said he,
+perceiving that O'Reilly sat with his untouched plate before him, “and a
+glass of sherry is very grateful after such a journey.”
+
+“A weary journey, indeed,” said O'Reilly, sighing: “the roads in this
+part of the island would seem seldom travelled, and the inns never
+visited; however, if we succeed, Nalty--”
+
+“So we shall, sir, I have not the slightest doubt of it; it is perfectly
+evident that they have no money to go on. 'The sinews of war' are
+expended, all Bicknell's late proceedings indicate a failing exchequer;
+that late record, for instance, at Westport, should never have been left
+to a common jury.”
+
+“All this may be true, and yet we may find them unwilling to adopt a
+compromise: there is a spirit in this class of men very difficult to
+deal with.”
+
+“But we have two expedients,” interrupted Nalty.
+
+“Say, rather, a choice between two; you forget that if we try my
+father's plan, the other can never be employed.”
+
+“I incline to the other mode of procedure,” said Nalty, thoughtfully;
+“it has an appearance of frankness and candor very likely to influence
+people of this kind; besides, we have such a strong foundation to go
+upon,--the issue of two trials at bar, both adverse to them, O'Grady's
+opinion on the ejectment cases equally opposed to their views. The
+expense of a suit in equity to determine the validity of the entail, and
+show how far young Darcy can be a plaintiff: then the cases for a jury;
+all costly matters, sir! Bicknell knows this well; indeed, if the truth
+were out, I suspect Sam is getting frightened about his own costs, he
+has sold out of the funds twice to pay fees.”
+
+“Yet the plan is a mere compromise, after all,” said O'Reilly; “it is
+simply saying, relinquish your right, and accept so much money.”
+
+“Not exactly, sir; we deny the right, we totally reject the claim, we
+merely say, forego proceedings that are useless, spare yourselves and us
+the cost and publicity of legal measures, whose issue never can benefit
+you, and, in return for your compliance, receive an annuity or a sum, as
+may be agreed upon.”
+
+“But how is Lady Eleanor to decide upon a course so important, in the
+absence of her husband and her son? Is it likely, is it possible, she
+would venture on so bold a step?”
+
+“I think so; Bicknell half acknowledged that the funds of the suit were
+her jointure, and that Darcy, out of delicacy towards her, had left it
+entirely at her option to continue or abandon the proceedings.”
+
+“Still,” said O'Reilly, “a great difficulty remains; for supposing them
+to accept our terms, that they give up the claim and accept a sum
+in return, what if at some future day evidence should turn up to
+substantiate their views,--they may not, it is true, break the
+engagement--though I don't see why they should not--but let us imagine
+them to be faithful to the contract,-what will the world say? In what
+position shall we stand when the matter gains publicity?”
+
+“How can it, sir?” interposed Nalty, quickly; “how is it possible, if
+there be no trial? The evidence, as you call it, is no evidence unless
+produced in court. You know, sir,” said the little man, with twinkling
+eyes and pleased expression, “that a great authority at common law only
+declined the testimony of a ghost because the spirit was n't in court
+to be cross-examined. Now all they could bring would be rumor, newspaper
+allegations and paragraphs, asterisks and blanks.”
+
+“There may come a time when public opinion, thus expounded, will be
+as stringent as the judgments of the law courts,” said O'Reilly,
+thoughtfully.
+
+“I am not so certain of that, sir; the license of an unfettered press
+will always make its decisions inoperative; it is 'the chartered
+libertine' the poet speaks of.”
+
+“But what if, yielding to public impression, it begins to feel that its
+weight is in exact proportion to its truth, that well-founded opinions,
+just judgments, correct anticipations, obtain a higher praise and price
+than scandalous anecdotes and furious attacks? What if that day should
+arrive, Nalty? I am by no means convinced that such an era is distant.”
+
+“Let it come, sir,” said the little man, rubbing his hands, “and when it
+does there will be enough employment on its hand without going back on
+our trangressions; the world will always be wicked enough to keep the
+moralist at his work of correction. But to return to our immediate
+object, I perceive you are inclined to Dr. Hickman's plan.”
+
+“I am so far in its favor,” said O'Reilly, “that it solves the present
+difficulty, and prevents all future danger. Should my father succeed
+in persuading Lady Eleanor to this marriage, the interest of the
+two families is inseparably united. It is very unlikely that any
+circumstance, of what nature soever, would induce young Darcy to dispute
+his sister's claim, or endanger her position in society. This settlement
+of the question is satisfactory in itself, and shows a good face to the
+world, and I confess I am curious to know what peculiar objection you
+can see against it.”
+
+“It has but one fault, sir.”
+
+“And that?”
+
+“Simply, it is impossible.”
+
+“Is it the presumption of a son of mine seeking an alliance with
+the daughter of Maurice Darcy that appears so very impossible?” said
+Hickman, with a hissing utterance of each word, that bespoke a fierce
+conflict of passion within him.
+
+“Certainly not, sir,” replied Nalty, hastily excusing himself. “I am
+well aware which party contributes most to such a compact. Mr. Beecham
+O'Reilly might look far higher--”
+
+“Wherein lies the impossibility you speak of, then?” rejoined O'Reilly,
+sternly.
+
+“I need scarcely remind _you_, sir,” said Nalty, with an air of deep
+humility, “_you_ that have seen so much more of life than I have, of
+what inveterate prejudices these old families, as they like to call
+themselves, are made up; that, creating a false standard of rank, they
+adhere to its distinctions with a tenacity far greater than what they
+exhibit towards the real attributes of fortune. They seem to adopt for
+their creed the words of the old song,--
+
+     “The King may make a Baron bold,
+     Or an Earl of any fool, sir,
+     But with all his power, and all his gold
+     He can never make an O'Toole, sir.”
+
+“These are very allowable feelings when sustained by wealth and
+fortune,” said O'Reilly, quietly.
+
+“I verily believe their influence is greater in adversity,” said Nalty;
+“they seem to have a force of consolation that no misery can rob them
+of. Besides, in this case--for we should not lose sight of the matter
+that concerns us most--we must not forget that they regard your family
+in the light of oppressors. I am well aware that you have acted legally
+and safely throughout; but still--let us concede something to human
+prejudices and passions--is it unreasonable to suppose that they charge
+you and yours with their own downfall?”
+
+“The more natural our desire to repair the apparent wrong.”
+
+“Very true on _your_ part, but not perhaps the more necessary on theirs
+to accept the amende.”
+
+“That will very much depend, I think, on the way of its being proffered.
+Lady Eleanor, cold, haughty, and reserved as she is to the world, has
+always extended a degree of cordiality and kindness towards my father;
+his age, his infirmities, a seeming simplicity in his character, have
+had their influence. I trust greatly to this feeling, and to the effect
+of a request made by an old man, as if from his death-bed. My father is
+not deficient in the tact to make an appeal of this kind very powerful;
+at all events, his heart is in the scheme, and nothing short of that
+would have induced me to venture on this long and dreary journey at
+such a season. Should he only succeed in gaining an influence over Lady
+Eleanor, through pity or any other motive, we are certain to succeed.
+The Knight, I feel sure, would not oppose; and as for the young lady, a
+handsome young fellow with a large fortune can scarcely be deemed very
+objectionable.”
+
+“How was the proposition met before?” said Nalty, inquiringly; “was
+their refusal conveyed in any expression of delicacy? Was there any
+acknowledgment of the compliment intended them?”
+
+“No, not exactly,” said O'Reilly, blushing; for, while he hesitated
+about the danger of misleading his adviser, he could not bear to repeat
+the insolent rejection of the offer. “The false position in which the
+families stood towards each other made a great difficulty; but, more
+than all, the influence of Bagenal Daly increased the complexity; now
+he, fortunately for us, is not forthcoming, his debts have driven him
+abroad, they say.”
+
+“So, then, they merely declined the honor in cold and customary phrase?”
+ said Nalty, carelessly.
+
+“Something in that way,” replied O'Reilly, affecting an equal unconcern;
+“but we need not discuss the point, it affords no light to guide us
+regarding the future.”
+
+If Nalty saw plainly that some concealment was practised towards him, he
+knew his client too well to venture on pushing his inquiries further;
+so he contented himself with asking when and in what manner O'Reilly
+proposed to open the siege.
+
+“To-morrow morning,” replied the other; “there's no time to be lost.
+A few lines from my father to Lady Eleanor will acquaint her with his
+arrival in the neighborhood, after a long and fatiguing search for her
+residence. We may rely upon him performing his part well; he will allude
+to his own breaking health in terms that will not fail to touch her,
+and ask permission to wait upon her. As for us, Nalty, we must not be
+foreground figures in the picture. You, if known to be here at all, must
+be supposed to be my father's medical friend. I must be strictly in the
+shade.”
+
+Nalty gave a grim smile at the notion of his new professional character,
+and begged O'Reilly to proceed.
+
+“Our strategy goes no further; such will be the order of battle. We must
+trust to my father for the mode he will engage the enemy afterwards, for
+the reasons which have led him to take this step,--the approaching close
+of a long life, unburdened with any weighty retrospect, save that which
+concerns the Darcy family; for, while affecting to sorrow over their
+changed fortunes, he can attribute their worst evils to bad counsels
+and rash advice, and insinuate how different had been their lot had they
+only consented to regard us--as they might and ought to have done--in
+the light of friends. Hush! who is speaking there?”
+
+They listened for a second or two, and then came the sound of the old
+man's voice, as he talked to himself in his sleep; his accents were
+low and complaining, as if he were suffering deeply from some mental
+affliction, and at intervals a heavy sob would break from him.
+
+“He is ill, sir; the old gentleman is very ill!” said Nalty, in real
+alarm.
+
+“Hush!” said O'Reilly, as, with one hand on the door, he motioned
+silence with the other.
+
+“Yes, my Lady,” muttered the sleeper, but in a voice every syllable of
+which was audible, “eighty-six years have crept to your feet, to utter
+this last wish and die. It is the last request of one that has already
+left the things of this world, and would carry from it nothing but the
+thought that will track him to the grave!” A burst of grief, too sudden
+and too natural to admit of a doubt of its sincerity, followed the
+words; and O'Reilly was about to enter the room, when a low dry laugh
+arrested his steps, and the old man said,--
+
+“Ay! Bob Hickman, did n't I tell you that would do? I knew she 'd cry,
+and I told you, if she cried one tear, the day was ours!”
+
+There was something so horrible in the baseness of a mind thus revelling
+in its own duplicity, that even Nalty seemed struck with dread. O'Reilly
+saw what was passing in the other's mind, and, affecting to laugh at
+these “effects of fatigue and exhaustion,” half led, half pushed him
+from the room, and said “Good-night.”
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIV. THE DOCTOR'S LAST DEVICE.
+
+“Tell Mister Bob--Mr. O'Reilly I mean--to come to me,” were the first
+words of old Dr. Hickman, as he awoke on the following morning.
+
+“Well, sir, how have you slept?” said his son, approaching the bedside,
+and taking a chair; “have you rested well?”
+
+“Middling,-only middling, Bob. The place is like a vault, and the rats
+have it all their own way. They were capering about the whole night, and
+made such a noise trying to steal off with one of my shoes.” “Did they
+venture that far?”
+
+“Ay, did they! but I couldn't let it go with them. I know you 're in
+a hurry to stand in them yourself, Bob, and leave me and the rats to
+settle it between us--ay!” “Really, sir, these are jests---”
+
+“Too like earnest to be funny, Bob; so I feel them myself. Ugh! ugh!
+The damp of this place is freezing the very heart's blood of me. How
+is Nalty this morning?” “Like a fellow taken off a wreck, sir, after a
+week's starvation. He is sitting at the fire there, with two blankets
+round him, and vows to heaven, every five minutes, that if he was once
+back in Old Dominick Street, a thousand guineas would n't tempt him to
+such another expedition.”
+
+The old doctor laughed till it made him cough, and when the fit was
+over, laughed again, wiping his weeping eyes, and chuckling in the most
+unearthly glee at the lawyer's discomfiture.
+
+“Wrapped up in blankets, eh, Bob?” said he, that he might hear further
+of his fellow-traveller's misery.
+
+O'Reilly saw that he had touched the right key, and expatiated for some
+minutes upon Nalty's sufferings, throwing out, from time to time, adroit
+hints that only certain strong and hale constitutions could endure
+privations like these. “Now, you, sir,” continued he, “you look as much
+yourself as ever; in fact, I half doubt how you are to play the sick
+man, with all these signs of rude health about you.”
+
+“Leave that to me, Bob; I think I've seen enough of them things to know
+them now. When I 've carried my point, and all's safe and secure, you
+'ll see me like the pope we read of, that looked all but dead till they
+elected him, and then stood up stout and hearty five minutes after,--we
+'ll have a miracle of this kind in our own family.”
+
+“I suspect, sir, we shall have difficulty in obtaining an interview,”
+ said O'Reilly.
+
+“No!” rejoined the old man, with a scarcely perceptible twinkle of his
+fishy eyes.
+
+“Nalty 's of my opinion, and thinks that Lady Eleanor will positively
+decline it.”
+
+“No,” echoed he once more.
+
+“And that, without any suspicion of our plan, she will yet refuse to
+receive you.”
+
+“I 'm not going to ask her, Bob,” croaked the old doctor, with a species
+of chuckling crow in his voice.
+
+“Then you have abandoned your intention,” exclaimed O'Reilly, in dismay,
+“and the whole journey has been incurred for nothing.”
+
+“No!” said the doctor, whose grim old features were lit up with a most
+spiteful sense of his superior cunning.
+
+“Then I don't understand you,--that's clear,” exclaimed O'Reilly,
+testily. “You say that you do not intend to call upon her--”
+
+“Because she's coming here to see me,” cried the old man, in a scream
+of triumph; “read that, it's an answer to a note I sent off at eight
+o'clock. Joe waited and brought back this reply.” As he spoke, he drew
+from beneath his pillow a small note, and handed it to his son. O'Reilly
+opened it with impatience, and read:--
+
+“Lady Eleanor Darcy begs to acknowledge the receipt of Dr. Hickman's
+note, and, while greatly indisposed to accept of an interview which
+must be so painful to both parties without any reasonable prospect of
+rendering service to either, feels reluctant to refuse a request made
+under circumstances so trying. She will therefore comply with Dr.
+Hickman's entreaty, and, to spare him the necessity of venturing abroad
+in this severe weather, will call upon him at twelve o'clock, should she
+not learn in the meanwhile that the hour is inconvenient.”
+
+“Lady Eleanor Darcy come out to call upon you, sir!” said O'Reilly, with
+an amazement in part simulated to flatter the old man's skill, but far
+more really experienced. “This is indeed success.”
+
+“Ay, you may well say so,” chimed in the old man; “for besides that
+I always look ten years older when I 'm in bed and unshaved, with my
+nightcap a little off,--this way,--the very sight of these miserable
+walls, green with damp and mould, this broken window, and the
+poverty-struck furniture, will all help, and I can get up a cough, if I
+only draw a long breath.”
+
+“I vow, sir, you beat us all; we are mere children compared to you. This
+is a master-stroke of policy.”
+
+“What will Nalty say now--eh, Bob?”
+
+“Say, sir? What can any one say, but that the move showed a master's
+hand, as much above our skill to accomplish as it was beyond our wit to
+conceive? I should like greatly to hear how you intend to play the game
+out,” said O'Reilly, throwing a most flattering expression of mingled
+curiosity and astonishment into his features.
+
+“Wait till I see what trumps the adversary has in hand, Bob; time enough
+to determine the lead when the cards are dealt.”
+
+“I suppose I must keep out of sight, and perhaps Nalty also.”
+
+“Nalty ought to be in the house if we want him; as my medical friend,
+he could assist to draw any little memorandum we might determine upon;
+a mere note, Bob, between friends, not requiring the interference
+of lawyers, eh?” There was something fiendish in the low laugh which
+accompanied these words. “What brings that fellow into the room so
+often, putting turf on, and looking if the windows are fast? I don't
+like him, Bob.” This was said in reference to a little chubby man, in
+a waiter's jacket, who really had taken every imaginable professional
+privilege to obtrude his presence.
+
+“There, there, that will do,” said O'Reilly, harshly; “you needn't come
+till we ring the bell.”
+
+“Leave the turf-basket where it is. Don't you think we can mind the fire
+for ourselves?”
+
+“Let Joe wait, that will be better, sir,” whispered O'Reilly; “we cannot
+be too cautious here.” And with a motion of the hand he dismissed the
+waiter, who, true to his order, seemed never to hear “an aside.”
+
+“Leave me by myself, Bob, for half an hour; I 'd like to collect my
+thoughts,--to settle and think over this meeting. It's past eleven now,
+and she said twelve o'clock in the note.”
+
+“Well, I 'll take a stroll over the hills, and be back for dinner about
+three; you'll be up by that time.”
+
+“That will I, and very hungry too,” muttered the old man. “This dying
+scene has cost me the loss of my breakfast; and, faith, I 'm so weak
+and low, my head is quite dizzy. There 's an old saying, Mocking is
+catching; and sure enough there may be some truth in it too.”
+
+O'Reilly affected not to hear the remark, and moved towards the door,
+when he turned about and said,--
+
+“I should say, sir, that the wisest course would be to avoid anything
+like coercion, or the slightest approach to it. The more the appeal is
+made to her feelings of compassion and pity--”
+
+“For great age and bodily infirmity,” croaked the old man, while the
+filmy orbs shot forth a flash of malicious intelligence.
+
+“Just so, sir. To others' eyes you do indeed seem weak and bowed down
+with years. It is only they who have opportunity to recognize the
+clearness of your intellect and the correctness of your judgment can see
+how little inroad time has made.”
+
+“Ay, but it has, though,” interposed the old man, irritably. “My hand
+shakes more than it used to do; there 's many an operation I 'd not be
+able for as I once was.”
+
+“Well, well, sir,” said his son, who found it difficult to repress the
+annoyance he suffered from his continual reference to the old craft;
+“remember that you are not called upon now to perform these things.”
+
+“Sorry I am it is so,” rejoined the other. “I gave up seven hundred a
+year when I left Loughrea to turn gentleman with you at Gwynne Abbey;
+and faith, the new trade isn't so profitable as the old one! So it is,”
+ muttered he to himself; “and now there 's a set of young chaps come into
+the town, with their medical halls, and great bottles of pink and blue
+water in the windows! What chance would I have to go back again?”
+
+O'Reilly heard these half-uttered regrets in silence; he well knew
+that the safest course was to let the feeble brain exhaust its scanty
+memories without impediment. At length, when the old doctor seemed to
+have wearied of the theme, he said,--
+
+“If she make allusion to the Dalys, sir, take care not to confess our
+mistake about that cabin they called 'The Corvy,' and which you remember
+we discovered that Daly had settled upon his servant. Let Lady Eleanor
+suppose that we withdrew proceedings out of respect to her.”
+
+“I know, I know,” said the old man, querulously, for his vanity was
+wounded by these reiterated instructions.
+
+“It is possible, too, sir, she 'd stand upon the question of rank; if
+so, say that Heffernan--no, say that Lord Castlereagh will advise the
+king to confer the baronetcy on the marriage--don't forget that, sir--on
+the marriage.”
+
+“Indeed, then, I'll say nothing about it,” said he, with an energy
+almost startling. “It's that weary baronetcy cost me the loan to
+Heffernan on his own bare bond; I 'm well sick of it! Seven thousand
+pounds at five and a half per cent, and no security!”
+
+“I only thought, sir, it might be introduced incidentally,” said
+O'Reilly, endeavoring to calm down this unexpected burst of irritation.
+
+“I tell you I won't. If I'm bothered anymore about that same baronetcy,
+I 'll make a clause in my will against my heir accepting it How bad you
+are for the coronet with the two balls; faix, I remember when the family
+arms had three of them; ay, and we sported them over the door, too. Eh,
+Bob, shall I tell her that?”
+
+“I don't suppose it would serve our cause much, sir,” said O'Reilly,
+repressing with difficulty his swelling anger. Then, after a moment, he
+added, “I could never think of obtruding any advice of mine, sir, but
+that I half feared you might, in the course of the interview, forget
+many minor circumstances, not to speak of the danger that your natural
+kindliness might expose you to in any compact with a very artful woman
+of the world.”
+
+“Don't be afraid of that anyhow, Bob,” said he, with a most hideous
+grin. “I keep a watchful eye over my natural kindliness, and, to say
+truth, it has done me mighty little mischief up to this. There, now,
+leave me quiet and to myself.”
+
+When the old man was left alone, his head fell slightly forward, and his
+hands, clasped together, rested on his breast. His eyes, half closed and
+downcast, and his scarcely heaving chest, seemed barely to denote life,
+or at most that species of life in which the senses are steeped in
+apathy. The grim, hard features, stiffened by years and a stern nature,
+never moved; the thin, close-drawn lips never once opened; and to any
+observer the figure might have seemed a lifeless counterfeit of old age.
+And yet within that brain, fast yielding to time and infirmity, where
+reason came and went like the flame of some flickering taper, and where
+memory brought up objects of dreamy fancy as often as bygone events,
+even there plot and intrigue held their ground, and all the machinery of
+deception was at work, suggesting, contriving, and devising wiles that
+in their complexity were too puzzling for the faculties that originated
+them. Is there a Nemesis in this, and do the passions by which we have
+swayed and controlled others rise up before us in our weak hours, and
+become the tyrants of our terror-stricken hearts?
+
+It is not our task, were it even in our power, to trace the strange
+commingled web of reality and fiction that composed the old man's
+thoughts. At one time he believed he was supplicating the Knight
+to accord him some slight favor, as he had done more than once
+successfully. Then he suddenly remembered their relative stations, so
+strangely reversed; the colossal fortune he had himself accumulated; the
+hopes and ambitions of his son and grandson, whose only impediments to
+rank and favor lay in himself, the humble origin of all this wealth. How
+strange and novel did the conviction strike him that all the benefit of
+his vast riches lay in the pleasure of their accumulation, that for him
+fortune had no seductions to offer! Rank, power, munificence, what were
+they? He never cared for them.
+
+No; it was the game he loved even more than the stake, that tortuous
+course of policy by which he had outwitted this man and doubled on that.
+The schemes skilfully conducted, the plots artfully accomplished,--these
+he loved to think over; and while he grieved to reflect upon the
+reckless waste he witnessed in the household of his sou, he felt a
+secret thrill of delight that he, and he alone, was capable of those
+rare devices and bold expedients by which such a fortune could
+be amassed. Once and only once did any expression of his features
+sympathize with these ponderings; and then a low, harsh laugh broke
+suddenly from him, so fleeting that it failed to arouse even himself. It
+came from the thought that if after his death his son or grandson would
+endeavor to forget his memory, and have it forgotten by others, that
+every effort of display, every new evidence of their gorgeous wealth,
+would as certainly evoke the criticism of the envious world, who, in
+spite of them, would bring up the “old doctor” once more, and, by the
+narrative of his life, humble them to the dust.
+
+This desire to bring down to a level with himself those around him had
+been the passion of his existence. For this he had toiled and labored,
+and struggled through imaginary poverty when possessed of wealth; had
+endured scoffs and taunts,--had borne everything,--and to this desire
+could be traced his whole feeling towards the Darcys. It was no
+happiness to him to be the owner of their princely estate if he did
+not revel in the reflection that they were in poverty. And this envious
+feeling he extended to his very son. If now and then a vague thought
+of the object of his present journey crossed his mind, it was speedily
+forgotten in the all-absorbing delight of seeing the proud Lady
+Eleanor humbled before him, and the inevitable affliction the Knight
+would experience when he learned the success of this last device. That
+it would succeed he had little doubt; he had come too well prepared with
+arguments to dread failure. Nay, he thought, he believed he could compel
+compliance if such were to be needed.
+
+It was in the very midst of these strangely confused musings that the
+doctor's servant announced to him the arrival of Lady Eleanor Darey.
+The old man looked around him on the miserable furniture, the damp,
+discolored walls, the patched and mended window-panes, and for a moment
+he could not imagine where he was; the repetition of the servant's
+announcement, however, cleared away the cloud from his faculties, and
+with a slight gesture of his hand he made a sign that she should be
+admitted. A momentary pause ensued, and he could hear his servant
+expressing a hope that her Ladyship might not catch cold, as the
+snow-drift was falling heavily, and the storm very severe. A delay of a
+few minutes was caused to remove her wet cloak. What a whole story did
+these two or three seconds reveal to old Hickman as he thought of that
+Lady Eleanor Darey of whose fastidious elegance the whole “West” was
+full, whose expensive habits and luxurious tastes had invested her with
+something like an Oriental reputation for magnificence,--of her coming
+on foot and alone, through storm and snow, to wait upon him!
+
+He listened eagerly; her footstep was on the stairs, and he heard a low
+sigh she gave, as, reaching the landing-place, she stood for a moment to
+recover breath.
+
+“Say Lady Eleanor Darey,” said she, unaware that her coming had been
+already telegraphed to the sick man's chamber.
+
+A faint complaining cry issued from the room as she spoke, and Lady
+Eleanor said: “Stay! Perhaps Dr. Hickman is too ill; if so, at another
+time. I 'll come this evening or to-morrow.”
+
+“My master is most impatient to see your Ladyship,” said the man. “He
+has talked of nothing else all the morning, and is always asking if it
+is nigh twelve o'clock.”
+
+Lady Eleanor nodded as if to concede her permission, and the servant
+entered the half-darkened room. A weak, murmuring sound of voices
+followed; and the servant returned, saying, in a cautious whisper, “He
+is awake, my Lady, and wishes to see your Ladyship now.”
+
+Lady Eleanor's heart beat loudly and painfully; many a sharp pang shot
+through it, as, with a strong effort to seem calm, she entered.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXV. A DARK CONSPIRACY
+
+Dr. Hickman was so little prepared for the favorable change in Lady
+Eleanor's appearance since he had last seen her, as almost to doubt that
+she was the same, and it was with a slight tremor of voice he said,--
+“Is it age with me, my Lady, or altered health, that makes the
+difference, but you seem to me not what I remember you? You are fresher,
+pardon an old man's freedom, and I should say far handsomer too!”
+
+“Really, Mr. Hickman, you make me think my excursion well repaid by
+such flatteries,” said she, smiling pleasantly, and not sorry thus for a
+moment to say something that might relieve the awkward solemnity of the
+scene. “I hope sir, that this air, severe though it be, may prove as
+serviceable to yourself. Have you slept well?”
+
+“No, my Lady, I scarcely dozed the whole night; this place is a very
+poor one. The rain comes in there,--where you see that green mark,--and
+the wind whistles through these broken panes,-and rats, bother them!
+they never ceased the night through. A poor, poor spot it is, sure
+enough!”
+
+It never chanced to cross his mind, while bewailing these signs of
+indigence and discomfort, that she, to whom he addressed the
+complaint, had been reduced to as bad, even worse, hardships by his own
+contrivance. Perhaps, indeed, the memory of such had not occurred at
+that moment to Lady Eleanor, had not the persistence with which he dwelt
+on the theme somewhat ruffled her patience, and eventually reminded her
+of her own changed lot. It was then with a slightly irritated tone she
+remarked,--
+
+“Such accommodation is a very unpleasant contrast to the comforts you
+are accustomed to, sir; and these sudden lessons in adversity are, now
+and then, very trying things.”
+
+“What does it signify?” sighed the old man, heavily; “a day sooner, a
+few hours less of sunshine, and the world can make little difference to
+one like me! Happy for me, if, in confronting them, I have done anything
+towards my great purpose, the only object between me and the grave!”
+
+Lady Eleanor never broke the silence which followed these words;
+and though the old man looked as if he expected some observation or
+rejoinder, she said not a word. At length he resumed, with a faint
+moan,--“Ah, my Lady, you have much to forgive us for.”
+
+“I trust, sir, that our humble fortunes have not taught us to forget the
+duties of Christianity,” was the calm reply.
+
+“Much, indeed, to pardon,” continued he, “but far less, my Lady, than is
+laid to our charge. Lawyers and attorneys make many a thing a cause of
+bitterness that a few words of kindness would have settled. And what two
+men of honest intentions could arrange amicably iu five minutes is often
+worked up into a tedious lawsuit, or a ruinous inquiry in Chancery. So
+it is!”
+
+“I have no experience in these affairs, sir, but I conclude your remarks
+are quite correct.”
+
+“Faith you may believe them, my Lady, like the Bible; and yet, knowing
+these fellows so well, having dealings with them since--since--oh, God
+knows how long--upon my life, they beat me entirely after all. 'T is
+like taking a walk with a quarrelsome dog; devil a cur he sees but he
+sets on him, and gets you into a scrape at every step you go! That 's
+what an attorney does for you. Take out a writ against that fellow,
+process this one, distrain the other, get an injunction here, apply
+for a rule there. Oh dear! oh dear! I 'm weary of it for law! All
+the bitterness it has given me in my life long, all the sorrow and
+affliction it costs me now.” He wiped his eyes as he concluded, and
+seemed as if overcome by grief.
+
+“It must needs be a sorry source of reparation, sir,” rejoined Lady
+Eleanor, with a calm, steady tone, “when even those so eminently
+successful can see nothing but affliction in their triumphs.”
+
+“Don't call them triumphs, my Lady; that's not the name to give them. I
+never thought them such.”
+
+“I 'm glad to hear it, sir,--glad to know that you have laid up such
+store of pleasant memories for seasons like the present.”
+
+“There was that proceeding, for instance, in December last. Now would
+you believe it, my Lady, Bob and I never knew a syllable about it till
+it was all over. You don't know what I 'm speaking of; I mean the writ
+against the Knight.”
+
+“Really, Dr. Hickman, I must interrupt you; however gratifying to me
+to hear that you stand exculpated for any ungenerous conduct towards my
+husband, the pleasure of knowing it is more than counterbalanced by the
+great pain the topic inflicts upon me.”
+
+“But I want to clear myself, my Lady; I want you to think of us a little
+more favorably than late events may have disposed you.”
+
+“There are few so humble, sir, as not to have opinions of more
+consequence than mine.”
+
+“Ay, but it's yours I want,--yours, that I 'd rather have than the
+king's on his throne. 'T is in that hope I 've come many a weary mile
+far away from my home, maybe never to see it again! and all that I may
+have your forgiveness, my Lady, and not only your forgiveness, but your
+approbation.”
+
+“If you set store by any sentiments of mine, sir, I warn you not to ask
+more than I have iu my power to bestow. I can forgive, I have forgiven,
+much; but ask me not to concur in acts which have robbed me of the
+companionship of my husband and my son.”
+
+“Wait a bit; don't be too hard, my Lady; I 'm on the verge of the grave,
+a little more, and the dark sleep that never breaks will be on me,
+and if in this troubled hour I take a wrong word, or say a thing too
+strong,--forgive me for it. My thoughts are often before me, on the long
+journey I'm so soon to go.”
+
+“It were far better, Dr. Hickman, that we should speak of something less
+likely to be painful to us both, and if that cannot be, that you should
+rest satisfied with knowing that however many are the sources of sorrow
+an humble fortune has opened to us, the disposition to bear malice is
+not among their number.”
+
+“You forgive me, then, my Lady,--you forgive me all?”
+
+“If your own conscience can only do so as freely as I do, believe me,
+sir, your heart will be tranquil.”
+
+The old man pressed his hands to his face, and appeared overcome by
+emotion. A dead silence ensued, which at length was broken by old
+Hickman muttering broken words to himself, at first indistinctly, and
+then more clearly.
+
+“Yes, yes,--I made--the offer--I begged--I supplicated. I did all--all.
+But no, they refused me! There was no other way of restoring them to
+their own house and home--but they would n't accept it. I would have
+settled the whole estate--free of debt--every charge paid off, upon
+them. There 's not a peer in the land could say he was at the head of
+such a property.”
+
+“I must beg, sir, that I may be spared the unpleasantness of overhearing
+what I doubt is only intended for your own reflection; and if you will
+permit me, to take my leave--”
+
+“Oh, don't go--don't leave me yet, my Lady. What was it I said,--where
+was my poor brain rambling? Was I talking about Captain Darcy? Ah! that
+was the most painful part of all.”
+
+“My God! what is it you mean?” said Lady Eleanor, as a sickness like
+fainting crept over her. “Speak, sir,--tell me this instant!”
+
+“The bills, my Lady,--the bills that he drew in Glee-son's name.”
+
+“In Gleeson's name! It is false, sir, a foul and infamous calumny;
+my son never did this thing,--do not dare to assert it before me, his
+mother.”
+
+“They are in that pocket-book, my Lady,-seven of them for a thousand
+pounds each. There are two more somewhere among my papers, and it was to
+meet the payment that the Captain did this.” Here he took from beneath
+his pillow a parchment document, and held it towards Lady Eleanor, who,
+overwhelmed with terror and dismay, could not stretch her band to take
+it.
+
+“Here--my Lady--somewhere here,” said he, moving his finger vaguely
+along the lower margin of the document--“here you'll see Maurice Darcy
+written--not by himself, indeed, but by his son. This deed of sale
+includes part of Westport, and the town-lands of Cooldrennon and
+Shoughnakelly. Faith, and, my Lady, I paid my hard cash down on the
+nail for the same land, and have no better title than what you see!
+The Knight has only to prove the forgery; of course he could n't do so
+against his own son.”
+
+“Oh, sir, spare me,--I entreat of you to spare me!” sobbed Lady Eleanor,
+as, convulsed with grief, she hid her face.
+
+A knocking was heard at this moment at the door, and on its being
+repeated louder, Hickman querulously demanded, “Who was there?”
+
+“A note for Lady Eleanor Darcy,” was the reply; “her Ladyship's
+servant waits for an answer.”
+
+Lady Eleanor, without knowing wherefore, seemed to feel that the tidings
+required prompt attention, and with an effort to subdue her emotion, she
+broke the seal, and read:--
+
+“Lady Eleanor,--Be on your guard,--there is a dark plot against you.
+Take counsel in time,--and if you hear the words, 'T is eighty-six years
+have crept to your feet, to die,' you can credit the friendship of this
+warning.”
+
+“Who brought this note?” said she, in a voice that became full and
+strong, under the emergency of danger.
+
+“Your butler, my Lady.”
+
+“Where is he? Send him to me.” And as she spoke, Tate mounted the
+stairs.
+
+“How came you by this note, Tate?”
+
+“A fisherman, my Lady, left it this instant, with directions to be given
+to you at once and without a moment's delay.”
+
+“'Tis nothing bad, I hope and trust, my Lady,” whispered the old man.
+“The darling young lady is not ill?”
+
+“No, sir, she is perfectly well, nor are the tidings positively bad
+ones. There is no answer, Tate.” So saying, she once more opened the
+paper and read it over.
+
+Without seeing wherefore, Lady Eleanor felt a sudden sense of hardihood
+take possession of her; the accusation by which, a moment previous, she
+had been almost stunned, seemed already lighter to her eyes, and the
+suspicion that the whole interview was part of some dark design dawned
+suddenly on her mind. Nor was this feeling permanent; a glance at the
+miserable old man, who, with head beut down and half-closed eyes, lay
+before her, dispelling the doubts even more rapidly than they were
+formed. Indeed, now that the momentary excitement of speaking had passed
+away, he looked far more wan and wasted than before; his chest, too,
+heaved with a fluttering, irregular action, that seemed to denote severe
+and painful effort, while his fingers, with a restless and fidgety
+motion, wandered here and there, pinching the bed-clothes, and seeming
+to search for some stray object.
+
+While the conflict continued in Lady Eleanor's mind, the old man's brain
+once more began to wander, and his lips murmured half inarticulately
+certain words. “I would give it all!” said he, with a sudden cry; “every
+shilling of it for that--but it cannot be--no, it cannot be.”
+
+“I must leave you, sir,” said Lady Eleanor, rising; “and although I have
+heard much to agitate and afflict me, it is some comfort to my heart to
+think that I have poured some balm into yours; you have my forgiveness
+for everything.”
+
+“Wait a second, my Lady, wait one second!” gasped he, as with
+outstretched hands he tried to detain her. “I 'll have strength for it
+in a minute--I want--I want to ask you once more what you refused me
+once--and it is n't--it is n't that times are changed, and that you are
+in poverty now, makes me hope for better luck. It is because this is the
+request of one on his death-bed,--one that cannot turn his thoughts away
+from this world, till he has his mind at ease. There, my Lady, take that
+pocket-book and that deed, throw them into the fire there. They 're the
+only proofs against the Captain,--no eye but yours must ever see them.
+If I could see my own beautiful Miss Helen once more in the old house of
+her fathers--”
+
+“I will not hear of this, sir,” interposed Lady Eleanor, hastily. “No
+time or circumstances can make any change in the feelings with which I
+have already replied to this proposal.”
+
+“Heffernan tells me, my Lady, that the baronetcy is certain--don't
+go--don't go! It's the voice of one you 'll never hear again calls on
+you. 'Tis eighty-six years have crept to your feet, to die!”
+
+A faint shriek burst from Lady Eleanor; she tottered, reeled, and fell
+fainting to the ground.
+
+[Illustration: 314]
+
+Terrified by the sudden shock, the old man rung his bell with violence,
+and screamed for help, in accents where there was no counterfeited
+anxiety; and in another moment his servant rushed iu, followed by
+Nalty, and in a few seconds later by O'Reilly himself, who, hearing the
+cries, believed that the effort to feign a death-bed bad _turned_ into a
+dreadful reality.
+
+“There--there--she is ill--she is dying! It was too much--the shock did
+it!” cried the old man, now horror-struck at the ruin he had caused.
+
+“She is better,--her pulse is coming back,” whispered O'Reilly; “a
+little water to her lips,-that will do.”
+
+“She is coming to--I see it now,” said old Hickman; “leave the room,
+Bob; quick, before she sees you.”
+
+As O'Reilly gently disengaged his arm, which, in placing the fainting
+form on the sofa, was laid beneath her head, Lady Eleanor slowly opened
+her eyes, and fixed them upon him. O'Reilly suddenly became motionless;
+the calm and steady gaze seemed to have paralyzed him; he could not
+stir, he could not turn away his own eyes, but stood like one fascinated
+and spell-bound.
+
+“Oh dear! oh dear!” muttered the old man; “she 'll know him now, and see
+it all.”
+
+“Yes,” exclaimed Lady Eleanor, pushing back from her the officious bands
+that ministered about her. “Yes, sir, I do see it all! Oh, let me be
+thankful for the gleam of reason that has guided me in this dark hour.
+And you, too, do you be thankful that you have been spared from working
+such deep iniquity!”
+
+As she spoke she arose, not a vestige of illness remaining, but a deep
+flush mantling in the cheek that, but a moment back, was deathly pale.
+“Farewell, sir. You had a brief triumph over the fears of a poor weak
+woman; but I forgive you, for you have armed her heart with a courage it
+never knew before.”
+
+With these words she moved calmly towards the door, which O'Reilly in
+respectful silence held open; and then, descending the stairs with a
+firm step, left the house.
+
+“Is she gone, Bob?” said the old man, faintly, as the door clapped
+heavily. “Is she gone?”
+
+O'Reilly made no reply, but leaned his head on the chimney, and seemed
+lost in thought.
+
+“I knew it would fail,” said Nalty in a whisper to O'Reilly.
+
+“What 's that he 's saying, Bob?--what 's Nalty saying?”
+
+“That he knew it would fail, sir,” rejoined O'Reilly, with a bitterness
+that showed he was not sorry to say a disagreeable thing.
+
+“Ay! but Nalty was frightened about his annuity; he thought, maybe, I 'd
+die in earnest. Well, we 've something left yet.”
+
+“What's that?” asked O'Reilly, almost sternly.
+
+“The indictment for forgery,” said Hickman, with a savage energy.
+
+“Then you must look out for another lawyer, sir,” said Nalty. “That I
+tell you frankly and fairly.”
+
+“What?--I didn't hear.”
+
+“He refuses to take the conduct of such a case,” said O'Reilly; “and,
+indeed, I think on very sufficient grounds.”
+
+“Ay!” muttered the old doctor. “Then I suppose there 's no help for it!
+Here, Bob, put these papers in the fire.”
+
+So saying, he drew a thick roil of documents from beneath his pillow,
+and placed it in his son's hands. “Put them in the blaze, and let me see
+them burned.”
+
+O'Reilly did as he was told, stirring the red embers till the whole mass
+was consumed.
+
+“I am glad of that, with all my heart,” said he, as the flame died out.
+“That was a part of the matter I never felt easy about.”
+
+“Didn't you?” grunted the old man, with a leer of malice. “What was it
+you burned, d'ye think?”
+
+“The bills,--the bonds with young Darcy's signature,” replied O'Reilly,
+almost terrified by an unknown suspicion.
+
+“Not a bit of it, Bob. The blaze you made was a costly fire to you, as
+you 'll know one day. That was my will.”
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXVI. THE LANDING AT ABOUKIR
+
+We must now ask our reader to leave for a season this scene of plot and
+intrigue, and turn with us to a very different picture. The same morning
+which on the iron-bound coast of Ireland broke in storm and hurricane,
+dawned fair and joyous over the shady shores of Egypt, and scarcely
+ruffled the long rolling waves as they swept into the deep bay of
+Aboukir. Here now a fleet of one hundred and seventy ships lay at
+anchor, the expedition sent forth by England to arrest the devouring
+ambition of Buonaparte, and rescue the land of the Pyramids from
+bondage.
+
+While our concern here is less with the great event than with the
+fortune of one of its humble followers, we would fain linger a little
+over the memory of this glorious achievement of our country's arms. For
+above a week after the arrival of the fleet, the gale continued to
+blow with unabated fury; a sea mountains high rolled into the bay,
+accompanied by sudden squalls of such violence that the largest ships
+of the fleet could barely hold on by their moorings, while many smaller
+ones were compelled to slip their cables, and stand out to sea. If the
+damage and injury were not important enough to risk the success of the
+expedition, the casualties ever inseparable from such events threw a
+gloom over the whole force, a feeling grievously increased by the first
+tidings that met them,--the capture of one of the officers and a boat's
+crew, who were taken while examining the shore, and seeking out the
+fittest spot for a landing.
+
+On the 7th of March the wind and sea subsided, the sky cleared, and a
+glorious sunset gave promise of a calm, so soon to be converted into a
+storm not less terrible than that of the elements.
+
+As day closed, the outlying ships had all returned to their moorings,
+the accidents of the late gale were repaired, and the soaked sails hung
+flapping in the evening breeze to dry; while the decks swarmed with
+moving figures, all eagerly engaged in preparation for that event which
+each well knew could not now be distant. How many a heart throbbed
+high with ecstasy and hope, that soon was to be cold; how many an eye
+wandered over that strong line of defences along the shore, that never
+was to gaze upon another sunset!
+
+And yet, to mark the proud step, the flashing look the eager speech
+of all around, the occasion might have been deemed one of triumphant
+pleasure rather than the approach of an enterprise full of hazard and
+danger. The disappointments which the storm had excited, by delaying the
+landing, were forgotten altogether, or only thought of to heighten the
+delight which now they felt.
+
+The rapid exchange of signals between the line-of-battle ships showed
+that preparations were on foot; and many were the guesses and surmises
+current as to the meaning of this or that ensign, each reading the
+mystery by the light of his inward hopes. On one object, however, every
+eye was fixed with a most intense anxiety. This was an armed launch,
+which, shooting out from beneath the shadow of a three-decker, swept
+across the bay with muffled oars. Nothing louder than a whisper broke
+the silence on board of her, as they stole along the still water, and
+held on their course towards the shore. Through the gloom of the falling
+night, they were seen to track each indenture of the coast,--now lying
+on their oars to take soundings; now delaying, to note some spot of
+more than ordinary strength. It was already midnight before “the
+reconnoissance” was effected, and the party returned to the ship, well
+acquainted with the formidable preparations of the enemy, and all the
+hazard that awaited the hardy enterprise. The only part of the coast
+approachable by boats was a low line of beach, stretching away to the
+left, from the castle of Aboukir, and about a mile in extent; and this
+was commanded by a semicircular range of sand-hills, on which the French
+batteries were posted, and whose crest now glittered with the bivouac
+fires of a numerous army. From the circumstances of the ground, the
+guns were so placed as to be able to throw a cross-fire over the bay;
+while a lower range of batteries protected the shore, the terrible
+effect of whose practice might be seen on the torn and furrowed
+sands,--sad presage of what a landing party might expect! Besides these
+precautions, the whole breastwork bristled with cannon and mortars
+of various calibre, embedded in the sand; nor was a single position
+undefended, or one measure of resistance omitted, which might increase
+the hazard of an attacking force.
+
+Time was an important object with the English general; reinforcements
+were daily looked for by the French; indeed it was rumored that tidings
+had come of their having sailed from Toulon, for, with an unparalleled
+audacity and fortune combined, a French frigate had sailed the preceding
+day through the midst of our fleet, and, amid the triumphant cheerings
+of the shore batteries, hoisted the tricolor in the face of our
+assembled ships. Scarcely had the launch reached the admiral's ship,
+when a signal ordered the presence of all officers in command to attend
+a council of war. The proceedings were quickly terminated, and in
+less than half an hour, the various boats were seen returning to their
+respective ships, the resolution having been taken to attack that very
+morning, or, in the words of the general order, “to bring the troops as
+soon as possible before the enemy.” Never were tidings more welcomed;
+the delay, brief as it was, had stimulated the ardor of the men to the
+highest degree, and they actually burned with impatience to be engaged.
+The dispositions for attack were simple, and easily followed. A sloop of
+war, anchored just beyond the reach of cannon-shot, was named as a point
+of rendezvous. By a single blue light at her mizzen, the boats were to
+move towards her; three lights at the maintop would announce that they
+were all assembled; a single gun would then be the signal to make for
+the shore.
+
+Strict orders were given that no unusual lights should be seen from the
+ships, nor any unwonted sight or sound betray extraordinary preparation.
+The men were mustered by the half-light in use on board, the ammunition
+distributed in silence, and every precaution taken that the attack
+should have the character of a surprise. These orders were well and
+closely followed; but so short was the interval, and so manifold
+the arrangements, it was already daylight before the rendezvous was
+accomplished.
+
+If the plan of debarkation was easily comprehended, that of the attack
+was not less so. Nelson once summed up a “general order,” by saying,
+“The captain will not make any mistake who lays his ship alongside of
+an enemy of heavier metal.” So Abercrombie's last instructions were,
+“Whenever an officer may be in want of orders, let him assault an
+enemy's battery.” These were to be carried by the bayonet alone, and, of
+the entire force, not one man landed with a loaded musket.
+
+A few minutes after seven the signal was given, and the boats moved
+off. The sun was high, a light breeze fanned the water, the flags and
+streamers of the ships-of-war floated proudly out as the flotilla stood
+for the shore; in glorious rivalry they pulled through the surf, each
+eager to be first, and all the excitement of a race was imparted to this
+enterprise of peril.
+
+Conspicuous among the leading boats were two, whose party, equipped in a
+brilliant uniform of blue and silver, formed part of the cavalry force.
+The inferiority of the horses supplied was such that only two hundred
+and fifty were mounted, and the remainder had asked and obtained
+permission to serve on foot. A considerable portion of this corps was
+made up of volunteers; and several young men of family and fortune were
+said to serve in the ranks, and from the circumstance of being commanded
+by the Knight of Gwynne, were called “Darcy's Volunteers.” It was a
+glorious sight to see the first boat of this party, in the stern of
+which sat the old Knight himself, shoot out ahead, and amid the cheering
+of the whole flotilla, lead the way in shore.
+
+Returning the various salutes which greeted him, the old man sat
+bare-headed, his silvery hair floating back in the breeze, and his manly
+face beaming with high enthusiasm.
+
+“A grand spectacle for an unconcerned eyewitness,” said an officer to
+his neighbor.
+
+The words reached Darcy's ears, and he called out, “I differ with you,
+Captain. To enjoy all the thrilling ecstasy of this scene a man must
+have his stake on the venture. It is our personal hopes and fears are
+necessary ingredients in the exalted feeling. I would not stand on
+yonder cliff and look on, for millions; but such a moment as this is
+glorious.” As he spoke, a long line of flame ran along the heights,
+and at the same instant the whole air trembled as the entire batteries
+opened their fire. The sea hissed and glittered with round shot and
+shell; while, in a perfect hurricane, they rained on every side.
+
+The suddenness of the cannonade, and the confusion consequent on the
+casualties that followed, seemed for a moment to retard the advance, or,
+as it appeared to the French, to deter the invading force altogether;
+for as they perceived some of the boats to lie on their oars, and others
+withdrawn to the assistance of their comrades, a deafening cheer
+of triumph rang out from the batteries, and was heard over the bay.
+Scarcely had it been uttered when the British answered by another, whose
+hoarse roar bespoke the coming vengeance.
+
+The flotilla had now advanced within a line of buoys laid down to direct
+the fire, and here grape and musketry mingled their clattering with
+the deeper thunder of cannon. “This is sharp work, gentlemen,” said the
+Knight, as the spray twice splashed over the boat, from shot that fell
+close by. “They 'll have our range soon. Do you mark how accurately the
+shots fall over that line of surf?”
+
+“That's a sand-bank, sir,” said the coxswain who steered. “There 's
+barely draught of water there for heavy launches.”
+
+“I perceive there is some shelter yonder beneath that large battery.”
+
+“They can trust that spot,” cried the coxswain, smiling. “There 's a
+heavy surf there, and no boat could live through it. But stay, there is
+a boat about to try it.” Every eye was now turned towards a yawl which,
+with twelve oars, vigorously headed on through the very midst of a
+broken and foam-covered tract of water, where jets of sea sprang up
+from hidden rocks, and cross currents warred and contended against each
+other.
+
+The hazardous venture was not alone watched by those iu the boats,
+but, from the crowning ridge of batteries, from every cliff and crag on
+shore, wondering enemies gazed on the hardihood of the daring.
+
+“They'll do it yet, sir,--they 'll do it yet,” cried the coxswain, wild
+with excitement. “There's deep water inside that reef.”
+
+The words were scarcely out, when a tremendous cannonade opened from the
+large battery. The balls fell on every side of the boat, and at length
+one struck her on the stem, rending her open from end to end, and
+scattering her shivered planks over the surfy sea.
+
+A shout, a cheer, a drowning cry from the sinking crew, and all was
+over.
+
+So sudden and so complete was this dreadful catastrophe, that they who
+witnessed it almost doubted the evidence of their senses, nor were the
+victors long to enjoy this triumph; the very discharge which sunk
+the boat having burst a mortar, and ignited a mass of powder near, a
+terrible explosion followed. A dense column of smoke and sand filled the
+air; and when this cleared away, the face of the battery was perceived
+to be rent in two.
+
+“We can do it now, lads,” cried Darcy. “They 'll never recover from the
+confusion yonder in time to see us.” A cheer met his words, and the
+coxswain turned the boat's head in the direction of the reef.
+
+Closely followed by their comrades in the second boat, they pulled along
+through the surf like men whose lives were on the venture; four arms to
+every oar, the craft bounded through the boiling tide; twice the keel
+was felt to graze the rocky bed, but the strong impulse of the boat's
+“way” carried her through, and soon they floated in the still water
+within the reef.
+
+“It shoals fast here,” cried the coxswain.
+
+“What's the depth?” asked Darcy.
+
+“Scarcely above three feet. If we throw over our six-pounder--”
+
+“No, no. It's but wading, after all. Keep your muskets dry, move
+together, and we shall be the first to touch the shore.”
+
+As he said this, he sprang over the side of the boat into the sea, and
+waving his hat above his head, began his progress towards the land.
+“Come along, gentlemen, we 've often done as much when salmon-fishing
+in our own rivers.” Thus, lightly jesting, and encouraging his party, he
+waded on, with all the seeming carelessness of one bent on some scheme
+of pleasure.
+
+The large batteries had no longer the range; but a dreadful fire of
+musketry was poured in from the heights, and several brave fellows fell,
+mortally wounded, ere the strand was reached. Cheered by the approving
+shouts of thousands from the boats, they at length touched the beach;
+and wild and disorderly as had been their advance when breasting the
+waves, no sooner had they landed than discipline resumed its sway, and
+the words, “Fall in, men!” were obeyed with the prompt precision of a
+parade. A strong body of tirailleurs, scattered along the base of the
+sand-hills and through the irregularities of the ground, galled them
+with a dropping and destructive fire as they formed; nor was it till
+an advanced party had driven these back, that the dispositions could be
+well and properly taken. By this time several other boats had touched
+the shore, and already detachments from the Fortieth, Twenty-eighth, and
+Forty-second regiments were drawn up along the beach, and, from these,
+frequent cries and shouts were heard, encouraging and cheering the
+“Volunteers,” who alone, of all the force, had yet come to close
+quarters with the enemy.
+
+A brief but most dangerous interval now followed; for the boats,
+assailed by a murderous fire, had sustained severe losses, and a short
+delay inevitably followed, assisting the wounded, or rescuing those who
+had fallen into the sea. Had the French profited by this pause, to bear
+down upon the small force now drawn up inactive on the beach, the fate
+of that great achievement might have been perilled; as it happened,
+however, nothing was further from their thought than coming into
+immediate contact with the British, and they contented themselves with
+a distant but still destructive cannonade. It is not impossible that the
+audacity of those who first landed, and who--a mere handful--assumed the
+offensive, might have been the reason of this conduct, certain it is,
+the boats, for a time retarded, were permitted again to move forward and
+disembark then; men, with no other resistance than the fire from the
+batteries.
+
+The three first regiments which gained the land were, strangely enough,
+representatives of the three different nationalities of the Empire;
+and scarcely were the words, “Forward! to the assault!” given, when an
+emulative struggle began, which should first reach the top and cross
+bayonets with the French. On the left, and nearest to the causeway
+that led up the heights, stood the Highlanders. These formed under an
+overwhelming shower of grape and musketry, and, with pibrochs playing,
+marched steadily forward. The Fortieth made an effort to pass them,
+which caused a momentary confusion, ending in an order for this regiment
+to halt, and support the Forty-second; and while this was taking place,
+the Twenty-eighth rushed to the ascent in broken parties, and, following
+the direction the “Volunteers” had taken in pursuit of the tirailleurs,
+they mounted the heights together.
+
+So suddenly was the tirailleur force repelled, that they had scarcely
+time to give the alarm, when the Twenty-eighth passed the crest of the
+hill, and prepared to charge. The Irish regiment, glorying in being the
+first to reach the top, cheered madly, and bore down. The French
+poured in a single volley, and fell back; not to retreat, but to entice
+pursuit. The stratagem succeeded. The Twenty-eighth pursued them hotly,
+and almost at once found themselves engaged in a narrow gorge of
+the sand-hills, and exposed to a terrific cross-fire. To retreat was
+impossible; their own weight drove them on, and the deafening cheers
+of their comrades drowned every word of command. Grape at half-musket
+distance ploughed through their ranks, while one continuous crash of
+small-arms showed the number and closeness of their foes.
+
+It was at this moment that Darcy, whose party was advancing by a smaller
+gorge, ascended a height, and beheld the perilous condition of his
+countrymen. There was but one way to liberate them, and that involved
+their own destruction: to throw themselves on the French flank, and
+while devoting themselves to death, enable the Twenty-eighth to retire
+or make head against the opposing force. While Darcy, in a few hurried
+words, made known his plan to those around him, the opportunity for its
+employment most strikingly presented itself. A momentary repulse of
+the French had driven a part of their column to the highroad leading to
+Alexandria, where already several baggage carts and ammunition wagons
+were gathered. This movement seemed so like retreat that Darcy's
+sanguine nature was deceived, and calling out, “Come along, lads,-they
+are running already!” he dashed onward, followed by his gallant band.
+His attack, if inefficient for want of numbers, was critical in point
+of time. The same instant that the French were assailed by him in flank,
+the Forty-second had gained the summit and attacked them in front: fresh
+battalions each moment arrived, and now along the entire crest of the
+ridge the fight raged fiercely. One after the other the batteries were
+stormed, and carried by our infantry at the bayonet's point; and in less
+than an hour from the time of landing, the British flag waved over seven
+of the nine heavy batteries.
+
+The battle, severe as it was on the heights, was main-tained with even
+greater slaughter on the shore. The French, endeavoring too late to
+repair the error of not resisting the actual landing, had now thrown an
+immense force by a flank movement on the British battalions; and this
+attack of horse, foot, and artillery combined, was, for its duration,
+the great event of the day. For a brief space it appeared impossible for
+the few regiments to sustain the shock of such an encounter; and had it
+not been for the artillery of the gunboats stationed along the shore,
+they must have yielded. Their fire, however, was terribly destructive,
+sweeping through the columns as they came up, and actually cutting lanes
+in the dense squadrons.
+
+Reinforcements poured in, besides, at every instant; and after a bloody
+and anxious struggle, the British were enabled to take the offensive,
+and advance against their foes. The French, already weakened by loss and
+dispirited by failure, did not await the conflict, but retired slowly,
+it is true, and in perfect order, on one of the roads leading into the
+great highway to Alexandria.
+
+Victory had even more unequivocally pronounced for the British on the
+heights. By this time every battery was in their possession. The enemy
+were in full flight towards Alexandria, the tumultuous mass occasionally
+assailed by our light infantry, to whom, from our deficiency in cavalry,
+was assigned the duty of harassing the retreat. It was here that Darcy's
+Volunteers, now reduced to one third of their original number, highly
+distinguished themselves, not only attacking the flank of the retiring
+enemy, but seizing every opportunity of ground to assail them in front
+and retard their flight.
+
+In one of these onslaughts, for such they were, the Volunteers became
+inextricably entangled with the enemy, and although fighting with the
+desperation of tigers, volley after volley tore through them; and the
+French, maddened by the loss they had already suffered at their hands,
+hastened to finish them by the bayonet. It was only by the intervention
+of the French officers, a measure in itself not devoid of peril, that
+any were spared; and those few, bleeding and mangled, were hurried
+along as prisoners, the only triumph of that day's battle! The strange
+spectacle of an affray in the very midst of a retiring column was seen
+by the British in pursuit, and the memory of this scene is preserved
+among the incidents of that day's achievements.
+
+[Illustration: 328]
+
+Many and desperate attempts were made to rescue the prisoners. The
+French, however, received the charges with deadly volleys, and as their
+flanks were now covered by a cloud of tirailleurs, they were enabled to
+continue their retreat on Alexandria, protected by the circumstances of
+the ground, every point of which they had favorably occupied. The battle
+was now over; guns, ammunition and stores were all landed; on the
+heights the English ensign waved triumphantly; and, far as the eye could
+reach, the French masses were seen in flight, to seek shelter within the
+lines of Alexandria.
+
+It was a glorious moment as the last column ascended the cliffs, to
+find their gallant comrades masters of the French position in its entire
+extent. Here, now, two brigades reposed with piled arms, guns, mortars,
+camp equipage, and military chests strewed on every side, all attesting
+the completeness of a victory which even a French bulletin could hardly
+venture to disavow. It is perhaps fortunate that, at times like this,
+the feeling of high excitement subdues all sense of the regret so
+natural to scenes of suffering; and thus, amid many a sight and sound of
+woe, glad shouts of triumph were raised, and heartfelt bursts of joyous
+recognition broke forth as friends met, and clasped each other's hands.
+Incidents of the battle, traits of individual heroism, were recorded on
+every side: anecdotes then told for the first time, to be remembered,
+many a year after, among the annals of regimental glory!
+
+It is but seldom, at such moments, that men can turn from the theme of
+triumph to think of the more disastrous events of the day; and yet
+a general feeling of sorrow prevailed on the subject of the brave
+Volunteers, of whose fate none could bring any tidings; some asserting
+that they had all fallen to a man on the road leading to Alexandria,
+others affirming that they were carried off prisoners by the French
+cavalry.
+
+A party of light infantry, who had closely followed the enemy till
+nightfall, had despatched some of their wounded to the rear; and by
+these the news came, that in an open space beside the high-road the
+ground was covered with bodies in the well-known blue and silver of the
+Volunteers. One only of these exhibited signs of life; and him they
+had placed among the wounded in one of the carts, and brought back with
+them. As will often happen, single instances of suffering excite more of
+compassionate pity than wide-spread affliction; and so here. When death
+and agony were on every hand,--whole wagons filled with maimed and dying
+comrades,--a closely wedged group gathered around the dying Volunteer,
+their saddened faces betraying emotions that all the terrible scenes of
+the day had never evoked.
+
+“It 's no use, sir,” said the surgeon, to the field-officer who had
+called him to the spot. “There is internal bleeding, besides this
+ghastly sabre-cut.”
+
+“Who knows him?” said the officer, looking around; but none made answer.
+“Can no one tell his name?”
+
+There was a silence for a few seconds; when the dying man lifted his
+failing eyes upwards, and turned them slowly around on the group. A
+slight tremor shook his lips, as if with an effort to speak; but no
+sound issued. Yet in the terrible eagerness of his features might be
+seen the working of a spirit fiercely struggling for utterance.
+
+“Yes, my poor fellow,” said the officer, stooping down beside him, and
+taking his hand. “I was asking for your name.”
+
+A faint smile and a slight nod of the head seemed to acknowledge the
+speech.
+
+“He is speaking,--hush! I hear his voice,” cried the officer.
+
+An almost inaudible murmur moved his lips; then a shivering shook his
+frame, and his head fell heavily back.
+
+“What is this?” said the officer..
+
+“Death,” said the surgeon, with the solemn calm of one habituated to
+such scenes. “His last words were strange-, did you hear them?”
+
+“I thought he said 'Court-martial.'”
+
+The surgeon nodded, and turned to move away.
+
+“See here, sir,” said a sergeant, as opening the dead man's coat he drew
+forth a white handkerchief, “the poor fellow was evidently trying to
+write his name with his own blood; here are some letters clear enough.
+L-e-o, and this is an n--or m--”
+
+“I know him now,” cried another. “This was the Volunteer who joined us
+at Malta; but Colonel Darcy got him exchanged into his own corps. His
+name was Leonard.”
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXVII. THE FRENCH RETREAT
+
+Let us now turn to the Knight of Gwynne, who, wounded and bleeding,
+was carried along in the torrent of the retreat. Poor fellow, he had
+witnessed the total slaughter or capture of the gallant band he had so
+bravely led into action but a few hours before, and now, with one arm
+powerless, and a sabre-cut in the side, could barely keep up with the
+hurried steps of the flying army.
+
+From the few survivors among his followers, not one of whom was
+unwounded, he received every proof of affectionate devotion. If they
+were proud of the gallant old officer as their leader, they actually
+loved him like a father. The very last incident of their struggle was
+an effort to cut through the closing ranks of the French, and secure his
+escape; and although one of the Volunteers almost lifted him into the
+saddle, from which he had torn the rider, Darcy would not leave his
+comrades, but cried out, “What signifies a prisoner more or less, lads?
+The victory is ours; let that console us.” The brave fellow who had
+perilled his life for his leader was cut down at the same instant. Darcy
+saw him bleeding and disarmed, and had but time to throw him his last
+pistol, when he was driven onward, and, in the mingled confusion of the
+movement, beheld him no more.
+
+The exasperation of a defeat so totally unlooked for had made the French
+almost savage in their vindictiveness, and nothing but the greatest
+efforts on the part of the officers could have saved the prisoners from
+the cruel vengeance of the infuriated soldiery. As it was, insulting
+epithets, oaths, and obnoxious threats met them at every moment of
+the halt; and at each new success of the British their fury broke out
+afresh, accompanied by menacing gestures that seemed to dare and defy
+every fear of discipline.
+
+Darcy, whom personal considerations were ever the last to influence,
+smiled at these brutal demonstrations, delighted at heart to witness
+such palpable evidence of insubordination in the enemy; nor could he, in
+the very midst of outrages which perilled his life, avoid comparing to
+his followers the French troops of former days with these soldiers of
+the Republic. “I remember them at Quebec,” said he, “under Montcalm.
+It may be too much to say that the spirit of a monarchy had imparted a
+sense of chivalry to its defenders, but certainly it is fair to think
+that the bloody orgies of a revolutionary capital have made a ruffian
+and ruthless soldiery.”
+
+Nor was this the only source of consolation open; for he beheld on every
+side of him, in the disorder of the force, the moral discouragement
+of the army, and the meagre preparations made for the defence of
+Alexandria. Wounded and weary, he took full note of these various
+circumstances, and made them the theme of encouragement to his
+companions in captivity. “There is little here, lads,” said he, “to
+make us fear a long imprisonment. The gallant fellows, whose watch-fires
+crown yonder hills, will soon bivouac here. All these preparations
+denote haste and inefficiency. These stockades will offer faint
+resistance, their guns seem in many instances unserviceable, and from
+what we have seen of their infantry to-day, we need never fear the issue
+of a struggle with them.”
+
+In the brief intervals of an occasional halt, he lost no opportunity
+of remarking the appearance of the enemy's soldiery,--their bearing and
+their equipment,--and openly communicated to his comrades his opinion
+that the French army was no longer the formidable force it had been
+represented to be, and that the first heavy reverse would be its
+dismemberment. In all the confidence a foreign language suggests, he
+spoke his mind freely and without reserve, not sparing the officers in
+his criticisms, which now and then took a form of drollery that drew
+laughter from the other prisoners. It was at the close of some remark of
+this kind, and while the merriment had not yet subsided, that a French
+major, who had more than once shown interest for the venerable old
+soldier, rode close up to his side, and whispered a few words of
+friendly caution in his ear, while by an almost imperceptible gesture he
+pointed to a group of prisoners who accompanied the Knight's party, and
+persisted in pressing close to where he walked. These were four dragoons
+of Hompesch's regiment, then serving with the British army, but a
+corps which had taken no part in the late action. Darcy could not help
+wondering at their capture,--a feeling not devoid of distrust, as he
+remarked that neither their dress nor accoutrements bore any trace
+of the fierce struggle, while their manner exhibited a degree of rude
+assurance and effrontery, rather than the regretful feelings of men
+taken prisoners.
+
+Darcy's attention was not permitted to dwell much more on the
+circumstance, for at the same instant the column was halted, in order
+that the wounded might pass on; and in the sad spectacle that now
+presented itself, all memory of his own griefs was merged. The
+procession was a long one, and seemed even more so than it was, from
+the frequent halts in front, the road being choked up by tumbrels and
+wagons, all confusedly mixed up in the hurry of retreat. Night was now
+falling fast, but still there was light enough to descry the ghastly
+looks of the poor fellows, suffering in every variety of agony. Some
+sought vent to their tortures by shouts and cries of pain; others
+preserved a silence that seemed from their agonized features an effort
+as dreadful as the very wounds themselves; many were already mad with
+suffering, and sang and blasphemed, with shrieks of mingled recklessness
+and misery. What a terrible reverse to the glory of war, and how far
+deeper into the heart do such scenes penetrate than all the triumphs the
+most successful campaign has ever gathered! While Darcy still gazed on
+this sad sight, he was gently touched on the arm by the same officer who
+had addressed him before, saying, “There is an English soldier here among
+the wounded, who wishes to speak with you; it is against my orders to
+permit it, but be brief and cautious.” With a motion to a litter some
+paces in the rear, the officer moved on to his place in the column, nor
+waited for any reply.
+
+The Knight lost not a second in profiting by the kind suggestion, but in
+the now thickening, gloom it was some time before he could discover
+the object of his search. At length he caught sight of the well-known
+uniform of his corps,--the blue jacket slashed with silver,--as it was
+thrown loosely over the figure, and partly over the face of a wounded
+soldier. Gently removing it, he gazed with steadfastness at the pale and
+bloodless countenance of a young and handsome man, who with half-closed
+eyelids lay scarcely breathing before him. “Do you know me, my poor
+fellow?” whispered Darcy, bending down over him,--“do you know me? For I
+feel as if we should know each other well, and had met before this.” The
+wounded man met his glance with a look of kind acknowledgment, but made
+no effort to speak; a faint sigh broke from him, as with a tremulous
+hand he pushed back the jacket and showed a terrible bayonet-stab in
+the chest, from which at each respiration the blood welled out in florid
+rivulets.
+
+“Where is the surgeon?” said Darcy, to the soldier beside the litter.
+
+“He is here, Monsieur,” said a sharp-looking man, who, without coat and
+with shirt-sleeves tucked up, came hastily forward.
+
+“Can you look to this poor fellow for me?” whispered Darcy, while he
+pressed into the not unwilling hand of the doctor a somewhat weighty
+purse.
+
+“We can do little more thau put a pad on a wounded vessel just now,”
+ said the surgeon, as with practised coolness he split up with a scissors
+the portions of dress around the wound. “When we have them once housed
+in the hospital--Parbleu!” cried he, interrupting himself, “this is a
+severe affair.”
+
+Darcy turned away while the remorseless fingers of the surgeon probed
+the gaping incision, and then whispered low, “Can he recover?”
+
+“Ah! _mon Dieu!_ who knows? There is enough mischief here to kill half
+a squadron; but some fellows get through anything. If we had him in
+a quiet chamber of the Faubourg, with a good nurse, and all still
+and tranquil about him, there 's no saying; but here, with some seven
+hundred others,--many as bad, some worse than himself,--the chances
+are greatly against him. Come, however, we'll do our best for him.” So
+saying, he proceeded to pass ligatures on some bleeding arteries; and
+although speaking rapidly all the while, his motions were even still
+more quick and hurried. “How old is he?” asked the surgeon, suddenly, as
+he gazed attentively at the youth.
+
+“I can't tell you,” said Darcy. “He belonged to my own corps, and by the
+lace on his jacket, I see, must have been a Volunteer; but I shame to
+say I don't remember even his name.” “He knows _you_, then,” replied
+the doctor, who, with the shrewd perception of his craft, watched the
+working of the sick man's features. “Is't not so?” said he, stooping
+down and speaking with marked distinctness. “You know your colonel?”
+
+A gesture, too faint to be called a nod of the head, and a slight motion
+of the eyebrows, seemed to assent to this question; and Darcy, whose
+laboring faculties struggled to bring up some clew to the memory of a
+face he was convinced he had known before, was about to speak again,
+when a mounted orderly, with a led horse beside him, rode up to the
+spot, and looking round for a few seconds, as if in search of some one,
+said,--
+
+“The English colonel, I believe?” The Knight nodded. “You are to
+mount this horse, sir,” continued the orderly, “and proceed to the
+head-quarters at once.”
+
+The doctor whispered a few hasty sentences, and while promising to
+bestow his greatest care upon the sick man, assured Darcy that at the
+head-quarters he would soon obtain admission of the wounded Volunteer
+into the officers' hospital. Partly comforted by this, and partly
+yielding to what he knew was the inevitable course of fortune, the
+Knight took a farewell look of his follower, and mounted the horse
+provided for him.
+
+Darcy was too much engrossed by the interest of the wounded soldier's
+case to think much on what might await himself; nor did he notice for
+some time that they had left the high-road by which the troops were
+marching for a narrower causeway, leading, as it seemed, not into, but
+at one side of Alexandria. It mattered so little to him, however, which
+way they followed, that he paid no further attention, nor was he aware
+of their progress, till they entered a little mud-built village, which
+swarmed with dogs, and miserable-looking half-clothed Arabs.
+
+“How do they call this village?” said the Knight, speaking now for the
+first time to his guide.
+
+“El Etscher,” replied the soldier; “and here we halt” At the same moment
+he dismounted at the door of a low, mean-looking house; and having
+ushered Darcy into a small room dimly lighted by a lamp, departed.
+
+The Knight listened to the sharp tramp of the horses' feet as they moved
+away; and when they had gone beyond hearing, the silence that followed
+fell heavily and drearily on his spirits. After sitting for some time in
+expectation of seeing some one sent after him, he arose and went to the
+door, but there now stood a sentry posted. He returned at once within
+the room, and partly overcome by fatigue, and partly from the confusion
+of his own harassed thoughts, he leaned his head on the table and slept
+soundly.
+
+“Pardon, Monsieur le colonel,” said a voice at his ear, as, some hours
+later in the night, he was awakened from his slumbers. “You will be
+pleased to follow me.” Darcy looked up and beheld a young officer, who
+stood respectfully before him; and though for a second or so he could
+not remember where he was, the memory soon came back, and without a word
+he followed his conductor.
+
+The officer led the way across a dirty, ill-paved courtyard, and
+entered a building beyond it of greater size, but apparently not less
+dilapidated than that they had quitted. From the hall, which was lighted
+with a large lamp, they could perceive through an open door a range of
+stables filled with horses; at the opposite side a door corresponding
+with this one, at which a dragoon stood with his carbine on his arm. At
+a word from the officer the soldier moved aside and permitted them to
+enter.
+
+The room into which they proceeded was large, but almost destitute
+of furniture. A common deal table stood in the middle, littered with
+military cloaks, swords, and shakos. In one corner was a screen, from
+behind which the only light proceeded; and, with a gesture towards this,
+the officer motioned Darcy to advance, while with noiseless footsteps he
+himself withdrew.
+
+Darcy moved forward, and soon came within the space enclosed by the
+screen, and in front of an officer in a plain uniform, who was busily
+engaged in writing. Maps, returns, printed orders, and letters lay
+strewed about him, and in the small brazier of burning wood beside him
+might be seen the charred remains of a great heap of papers. Darcy had
+full a minute to contemplate the figure before him ere he was noticed.
+The Frenchman was short and muscular, with a thick, bushy head of hair,
+bald in the centre of the head. His features were full of intelligence
+and quickness, but more unmistakably denoted violence of temper, and
+the coarse nature of one not born to his present rank, which seemed, at
+least, that of a field officer. His hands were covered with rings, but
+their shape and color scarcely denoted that such ornaments were native
+to them.
+
+“Ha,--the English colonel,--sit down, sir,” said he to Darcy, pointing
+to a chair without rising from his own. Darcy seated himself with the
+easy composure of one who felt that in any situation his birth and
+breeding made him unexceptionable company.
+
+“I wished to see you, sir. I have received orders, that is,” said
+he, speaking with the greatest rapidity, and a certain thickness of
+utterance very difficult to follow, “to send for you here, and make
+certain inquiries, your answers to which will entirely decide the
+conduct of the Commander-in-Chief in your behalf. You are not aware,
+perhaps, how completely you have put this in our power?”
+
+“I suppose,” said Darcy, smiling, “my condition as a prisoner of war
+makes me subject to the usual hardships of such a lot; but I am not
+aware of anything, peculiar to my case, that would warrant you in
+proposing even one question which a gentleman and a British officer
+could refuse to answer.”
+
+“There is exactly such an exception,” replied the Frenchman, hastily.
+“The proofs are very easy, and nearer at hand than you think of.”
+
+“You have certainly excited my curiosity, sir,” said the Knight, with
+composure; “you will excuse my saying that the feeling is unalloyed by
+any fear.”
+
+“We shall see that presently,” said the French officer rising and
+moving towards the door of an apartment which Darcy had not noticed.
+“Auguste,” cried he, “is that report ready?” The answer was not audible
+to the Knight. But the officer resumed, “No matter; it is sufficient for
+our purpose.” And hastily taking a paper from the hands of a subaltern,
+he returned to his place within the screen. “A gentleman so conversant
+with our language, it would be absurd to suppose ignorant of our
+institutions. Now, sir, to make a very brief affair of this, you have,
+in contravention to a law passed in the second year of the Republic,
+ventured to apply opprobrious epithets to the forces of France,
+ridiculing the manner, bearing, and conduct of our troops, and
+instituting comparison between the free citizens of a free state and
+the miserable minions of a degraded monarchy. If a Frenchman,
+your accusation, trial, and sentence would have probably been nigh
+accomplished before this time. As a foreigner and a prisoner of war--”
+
+“I conclude such remarks as I pleased to make were perfectly open to
+me,” added Darcy, finishing the sentence.
+
+“Then you admit the charge,” said the Frenchman eagerly, as if he had
+succeeded in entrapping a confession.
+
+“So far, sir, as the expressions of my poor judgment on the
+effectiveness of your army, and its chances against such a force as
+we have yonder, I am not only prepared to avow, but if you think the
+remarks worth the trouble of hearing, to repeat them.”
+
+“As a prisoner of war, sir, according to the eighty-fourth article
+of the Code Militaire, the offence must be tried by a court-martial,
+one-half of whose members shall have the same rank as the accused.”
+
+“I ask nothing better, sir, nor will I ever believe that any man who has
+carried a sword could deem the careless comments of a prisoner on what
+he sees around him a question of crime and punishment.”
+
+“I would advise you to reflect a little, sir, ere you suffer matters to
+proceed so far. The witnesses against you--”
+
+“The witnesses!” exclaimed the Knight, in amazement.
+
+“Yes, sir, four dragoons of a German regiment, thoroughly conversant
+with your language and ours, have deposed to the words--”
+
+“I avow everything I have spoken, and am ready to abide by it.”
+
+“Take care, sir,--take care.”
+
+“Pardon me, sir,” said Darcy, with a look of quiet irony, “but it
+strikes me that the exigencies of your army must be far greater than
+I deemed them, or you had never had recourse to a system of attempted
+intimidation.”
+
+“You are in error there,” said the Frenchman. “It was the desire to
+serve, not to injure you, suggested my present course. It remains with
+yourself to show that my interest was not misplaced.”
+
+“Let me understand you more clearly. What is expected of me?”
+
+“The answers to questions which doubtless every countryman of yours
+and mine could reply to from the public papers, but which, to us here,
+remote from intercourse and knowledge, are matters of slow acquirement.”
+ While the French officer spoke, he continued to search among the papers
+before him for some document, and at length, taking up a small slip of
+paper, resumed: “For instance, the 'Moniteur' asserts that you meditate
+sending a force from India to cross the Red Sea and the Desert, and
+menace us by an attack in the rear as well as in the front. This reads
+so like a fragment of an Oriental tale, that I can forgive the smile
+with which you hear it.”
+
+“Nay, sir; you have misinterpreted my meaning,” said the Knight, calmly.
+“I am free to confess I thought this intelligence was no secret. The
+form of our Government, the public discussions of our Houses, the
+freedom of our press, are little favorable to mystery. If you have
+nothing to ask of me more difficult to answer than this--”
+
+“And the expedition of Acre,--is this also correct?”
+
+“Perfectly so. A combined movement, which shall compel you to evacuate
+the country, is in preparation.”
+
+“_Parbleu_, sir,” said the Frenchman, stamping his foot with impatience,
+“these are somewhat bold words for a man in your situation to one in
+mine.”
+
+“I fancy, sir, that circumstance affects the issue I allude to very
+slightly indeed; even though the officer to whom I address myself should
+be General Menou, the Commander-in-Chief.”
+
+“And if I be, sir, and if you know it,” said Menou,--for it was he,--his
+face suffused with anger, “is it consistent with the respect due to _my_
+position and to _your own_ safety, to speak thus?”
+
+“For the first, sir, although a mere surmise on my part, I humbly hope
+I have made no transgression; for the last, I have very little reason to
+feel any solicitude, knowing that if you hurt a hair of my head, a heavy
+reprisal will await such of your own officers as may be taken, and the
+events of yesterday may have told you that a contingency of this sort is
+neither improbable nor remote.”
+
+Menou made no answer to this threatening speech, but with folded arms
+paced the apartment for several minutes. At length he turned hastily
+round, and fixing his eyes on the Knight, said, with a rude oath, “You
+are a fortunate man, sir, that you did not hold this language to my
+predecessor in the command. General Kleber would have had you in front
+of a _peloton_ of grenadiers within five minutes after you uttered it.”
+
+“I have heard as much,” said the Knight, with a slight smile.
+
+Menou rang a bell which stood beside him, and an aide-de-camp entered.
+
+“Captain le Messurier,” said he, in the ordinary tone of discipline,
+“this officer is under arrest. You will take the necessary steps for
+his safe keeping, and his due appearance when summoned before a military
+tribunal.”
+
+He bowed to Darcy as he spoke, and, reseating himself at the table, took
+up his pen to write.
+
+“At the hazard of being thought very hardy, sir,” said the Knight, as he
+moved towards the door, “I would humbly solicit a favor.”
+
+“A favor!” exclaimed Menou, staring in surprise.
+
+“Yes, sir; it is that the services of a surgeon should be promptly
+rendered--”
+
+“I have given orders on that score already. My own medical man shall
+attend to you.”
+
+“I speak not of myself, sir. It is of a Volunteer of my corps, a
+young man who now lies badly wounded; his case is not without hope, if
+speedily looked to.”
+
+“He must take his chance with others,” said the general, gruffly, while
+he made a gesture of leave-taking; and Darcy, unable to prolong the
+interview, retired.
+
+“I am sorry, sir,” said the aide-de-camp, as he went along, “that my
+orders are peremptory, and you must, if the state of your health permit,
+at once leave this.”
+
+“Is it thus your prisoners of war are treated, sir?” said Darcy,
+scornfully, “or am I to hope--for hope I do--that the exception is
+created especially for me?”
+
+The officer was silent; and although the flush of shame was on his
+cheek, the severe demands of duty overcame all personal feelings, and he
+did not dare to answer.
+
+The Knight was not one of those on whom misfortune can press, without
+eliciting in return the force of resistance, and, if not forgetting,
+at least combating, the indignities to which he had been subjected; he
+resigned himself patiently to his destiny, and after a brief delay set
+forth for his journey to Akrish, which he now learned was to be the
+place of his confinement.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXVIII. TIDINGS OF THE WOUNDED.
+
+The interests of our story do not require us to dwell minutely on the
+miserable system of intrigue by which the French authorities sought to
+compromise the life and honor of a British officer. The Knight of Gwynne
+was committed to the charge of a veteran officer of the Republic, who,
+though dignified with the title of the Governor of Akrish, was, in
+reality, invested with no higher functions than that of jailer over the
+few unhappy prisoners whom evil destiny had thrown into French hands.
+
+By an alternate system of cruelty and concession, efforts were daily
+made to entrap Darcy either into some expression of violence or
+impatience at this outrage on all the custom of war, or induce him
+to join a plot for escape, submitted to him by those who, apparently
+prisoners like himself, were in reality the spies of the Republic.
+Sustained by a high sense of his own dignity, and not ignorant of the
+character under which revolutionized France accomplished her triumphs,
+the Knight resisted every temptation, and in all the gloom of this
+remote fortress, ominously secluded from the world, denied access to
+any knowledge of passing events, cut off from all communication with his
+country and his comrades, he never even for a moment forgot himself, nor
+became entangled in the perfidious schemes spread for his ruin. It was
+no common aggravation of the miseries of imprisonment to know that each
+day and hour had its own separate machinery of perfidy at work. At one
+moment he would be offered liberty on the condition of revealing the
+plans of the expedition; at another he would be suddenly summoned to
+appear before a tribunal of military law, when it was hinted he would be
+arraigned for having commanded a force of liberated felons,--for in this
+way were the Volunteers once designated,--in the hope that the insult
+would evoke some burst of passionate indignation. If the torment of
+these unceasing annoyances preyed upon his health and spirits, already
+harassed by sad thoughts of home, the length of time, to which the
+intrigues were protracted showed Darcy that the wiles of his enemies had
+not met success in their own eyes; and this gleam of hope, faint and
+slender as it was, sustained him through many a gloomy hour of
+captivity.
+
+While the Knight continued thus to live in the long sleep of a
+prisoner's existence, events were hastening to their accomplishment
+by which his future liberty was to be secured. The victorious army of
+Abercrombie had already advanced and driven the French back beneath the
+lines of Alexandria. The action which ensued was terribly contested, but
+ended in the complete triumph of the British, whose glory was, however,
+dearly bought by the death of their gallant leader.
+
+The Turkish forces now joined the English under General Hutchinson,
+and a series of combined movements commenced, by which the French saw
+themselves so closely hemmed in, that no course was open save a retreat
+upon Cairo.
+
+Whether from the changed fortune of their arms,--for the French had
+now sustained one unbroken series of reverses,--or that the efforts to
+entrap the Knight had shown so little prospect of success, the manner
+of the governor had, for some time back, been altered much in his favor,
+and several petty concessions were permitted, which in the earlier days
+of his captivity were strictly denied. Occasionally, too, little hints
+of the campaign would be dropped, and acknowledgments made “that fortune
+had not been as uniformly favorable to the 'Great Nation' as was her
+wont.” These significant confessions received a striking confirmation,
+when, at daybreak one morning, an order arrived for the garrison to
+abandon the fort of Akrish, and for the prisoners, under a strong
+escort, to fall back upon Damanhour.
+
+The movements indicated haste and precipitancy; so much so, indeed,
+that ere the small garrison had got clear of the town, the head of a
+retreating column was seen entering it by the road from Alexandria; and
+now no longer doubt remained that the British had compelled them to fall
+back.
+
+As the French retired, their forces continued to come up each day, and
+in the long convoy of wounded, as well as in the shattered condition
+of gun-carriages and wagons, it was easy to read the signs of a recent
+defeat. Nor was the matter long doubtful to Darcy; for, by some strange
+anomaly of human nature, the very men who would exaggerate the smallest
+accident of advantage into a victory and triumph, were now just as loud
+iu proclaiming that they had been dreadfully beaten. Perhaps the avowal
+was compensated for by the license it suggested to inveigh against the
+generals, and, in the true spirit of a republican army, to threaten them
+openly with the speedy judgments of the Home Government.
+
+Among those who occasionally halted to exchange a few-words of greeting
+with the officer in conduct of the prisoners, the Knight recognized with
+satisfaction the same officer who, in the retreat from Aboukir, had
+so kindly suggested caution to him. At first he seemed half fearful
+of addressing him, to speak his gratitude, lest even so much might
+compromise the young captain in the eyes of his countrymen. The
+hesitation was speedily overcome, however, as the young Frenchman gayly
+saluted him, and said,--
+
+“Ah, mon General, you had scarcely been here to-day if you had
+but listened to my counsels. I told you that the Republic, one and
+indivisible, did not admit criticism of its troops.”
+
+“I scarcely believed you could shrink from such an order,” said the
+Knight, smiling.
+
+“Not in the 'Moniteur,' perhaps,” rejoined the Frenchman, laughing.
+“Yours, however, had an excess of candor, which, if only listened to at
+your own head-quarters, might have induced grave errors.
+
+“I comprehend,” interrupted Darcy, gayly catching up the ironical humor
+of the other,--“I comprehend, and you would spare an enemy such an
+injurious illusion.”
+
+“Just so; I wish your army had been equally generous, with all my
+heart,” added he, as coolly as before; “here we are in full retreat on
+Cairo.”
+
+“On Damanhour, you mean,” said Darcy.
+
+“Not a bit of it; on Cairo, General. There's no need of mincing the
+matter; we need fear no eavesdropper here. Ah, by the by, your German
+friends were retaken, and by a detachment of their own regiment too. We
+saw the fellows shot the morning after the action.”
+
+“Now that you are kind enough to tell me what is going forward, perhaps
+you could let me know something of my poor comrades whom you took
+prisoners on the night of the 9th.”
+
+“Yes. They are with few exceptions dead of their wounds, two men
+exchanged about a week since; and then, what strange fellows your
+countrymen are! They sent us back a major of brigade in exchange for a
+wounded soldier who, when he left our camp, did not seem to have life
+enough to bring him across the lines!”
+
+“Did you see him?” asked Darcy, eagerly.
+
+“Yes; I commanded the escort. He was a young fellow of scarcely more
+than four-and-twenty, and must have been good-looking too.”
+
+“Of course you could not tell his name,” said the Knight, despondingly.
+
+“No; I heard it, however, but it has escaped me. There was a curious
+story brought back about him by our brigade-major, and one which,
+I assure you, furnished many a hearty laugh at your land of noble
+privileges and aristocratic forms'.”
+
+“Pray let me hear it.”
+
+“Oh, I cannot tell you one-half of it; the finale interested the major
+most, because it concerned himself, and this he repeated to us at least
+a dozen times. It would seem, then, that this youth--a rare thing, I
+believe, in your service--was a man of birth, but, according to your
+happy institutions, was a man of nothing more, for he was a younger son.
+Is not that your law?”
+
+Darcy nodded, and the other resumed.
+
+“Well, in some fit of spleen at not being born a year or two earlier,
+or for some love affair with one of your blond insensibles, or from
+weariness of your gloomy climate, or from any other true British cause
+of despair, our youth became a soldier. _Parbleu!_ your English chivalry
+has its own queer notions, when it regards the service as a last
+resource of the desperate! No matter, he enlisted, came out here, fought
+bravely, and was taken prisoner in the very same attack with yourself;
+but while Fortune dealt heavily with one hand, she was caressing with
+the other, for, the same week she condemned him to a French prison,
+she made him a peer of England, having taken off the elder brother, an
+ambassador at some court, I believe, by a fever. So goes the world;
+good and ill luck battling against each, and one never getting uppermost
+without the other recruiting strength for a victory in turn.”
+
+“These are strange tidings, indeed,” said the Knight, musing, “and would
+interest me deeply, if I knew the individual.”
+
+“That I am unfortunate enough to have forgotten,” said the Frenchman,
+carelessly; “but I conclude he must be a person of some importance, for
+we heard that the vessel which was to sail with despatches was delayed
+several hours in the bay, to take him back to England.”
+
+Although the whole recital contained many circumstances which the Knight
+attributed to French misrepresentation of English habitudes, he was
+profoundly struck by it, and dwelt fondly on the hope that if the young
+peer should have served under his command, he would not neglect, on
+arriving in England, to inform his friends of his safety.
+
+These thoughts, mingling with others of his home and of his son Lionel,
+far away in a distant quarter of the globe, filled his mind as he went,
+and made him ponder deeply over the strange accidents of a life
+that, opening with every promise, seemed about to close in sorrow and
+uncertainty. Full of movement and interest as was the scene around, he
+seldom bestowed on it even a passing glance; it was an hour of gloomy
+reverie, and he neither marked the long train of wagons with their
+wounded, the broken and shattered gun-carriages, or the miserable aspect
+of the cavalry, whose starved and galled animals could scarcely crawl.
+
+The Knight's momentary indifference was interpreted in a very different
+sense by the officer who commanded the escort, and who seemed to suspect
+that this apathy concealed a shrewd insight into the real condition of
+the troops and the signs of distress and discomfiture so palpable on
+every side. As, impressed with this conviction, he watched the old man
+with prying curiosity, a smile, faint and fleeting enough, once crossed
+Darcy's features. The Frenchman's face flushed as he beheld it, and he
+quickly said,--
+
+“They are the same troops that landed at the Arabs' Tower, and who carry
+such inscriptions on their standards as these.” He snatched a flag from
+the sergeant beside him as he spoke, and pointed to the proud words
+embroidered there: “Le Passage de la Scrivia,” “Le Passage de Tisonzo,”
+ “Le Pont de Lodi.” Then, in a low, muttering voice, he added, “But
+Buonaparte was with us then.”
+
+Had he spoken for hours, the confession of their discontent with their
+generals could not have been more manifest; and a sudden gleam of hope
+shot through Darcy's breast, to think his captivity might soon be over.
+
+There was every reason to indulge in this pleasing belief;
+disorganization had extended to every branch of the service. An angry
+correspondence, in which even personal chastisement was broadly hinted
+at, passed between the two officers highest in command; and this not
+secretly, but publicly known to the entire army. Peculation of the most
+gross and open kind was practised by the commissaries; and as the
+troops became distressed by want, they retaliated by daring breaches of
+discipline, so that at every parade men stood out from the ranks, boldly
+demanding their rations, and answering the orders of the officers by
+insulting cries of “Bread! bread!”
+
+All this while the British were advancing steadily, overcoming each
+obstacle in turn, and with a force whose privations had made no inroad
+upon the strictest discipline; they felt confident of success. The few
+prisoners who occasionally fell into the hands of the French wore
+all the assurance of men who felt that their misfortunes could not be
+lasting, and in good-humored raillery bantered their captors on the
+British beef and pudding they would receive, instead of horseflesh, so
+soon as the capitulation was signed.
+
+The French soldiers were, indeed, heartily tired of the war; they were
+tired of the country, of the leaders, whose incompetency, whether real
+or not, they believed; tired, above all, of absence from France, from
+which they felt exiled. Each step they retired from the coast seemed
+to them another day's journey from their native land, and they did not
+hesitate to avow to their prisoners that they had no wish or care save
+to return to their country.
+
+Such was the spirit of the French army as it drew near Cairo, than which
+no greater contrast could exist than that presented by the advancing
+enemy. Let us now return to the more immediate interests of our story;
+and while we beg to corroborate the brief narrative of the French
+officer, we hope it is unnecessary to add that the individual whose
+suddenly changed fortune had elevated him from the ranks of a simple
+volunteer to that of a peer of England was our old acquaintance Dick
+Forester.
+
+From the moment when the tidings reached him, to that in which he lay,
+still suffering from his wounds, in the richly furnished chamber of a
+London hotel, the whole train of events through which he had so lately
+passed seemed like the incoherent fancies of a dream. The excited frame
+of mind in which he became a volunteer with the army had not time to
+subside ere came the spirit-stirring hour of the landing at Aboukir. The
+fight, in all its terrible but glorious vicissitudes; the struggle in
+which he perilled his own life to save his leader's; the moments that
+seemed those of ebbing life in which he lay upon a litter before Darcy's
+eyes, and yet unable to speak his name; and then the sudden news of his
+brother's death, overwhelming him at once with sorrow for his loss, and
+all the thousand fleeting thoughts of his own future, should life be
+spared him,--these were enough, and more than enough, to disturb and
+overbalance a mind already weakened by severe illness.
+
+Had Forester known more of his only brother, it is certain that the
+predominance of the feeling of grief would have subdued the others, and
+given at least the calm of affliction to his troubled senses. But they
+were almost strangers to each other; the elder having passed his life
+almost exclusively abroad, and the younger, separated by distance and a
+long interval of years, being a complete stranger to his qualities and
+temper.
+
+Dick Forester's grief, therefore, was no more than that which ties of so
+close kindred will ever call up, but unmixed with the tender attachment
+of a brother's love. His altered fortunes had not thus the strong alloy
+of heartfelt sorrow to make them distasteful; but still there was an
+unreality in everything,--a vague uncertainty in all his endeavors at
+close reasoning, which harassed and depressed him. And when he awoke
+from each short disturbed sleep, it took several minutes before he could
+bring back his memory to the last thought of his waking hours. The very
+title “my Lord,” so scrupulously repeated at each instant, startled him
+afresh at each moment he heard it; and as he read over the names of the
+high and titled personages whose anxieties for his recovery had made
+them daily visitors at his hotel, his heart faltered between the
+pleasure of flattery and a deeper feeling of almost scorn for the
+sympathies of a world that could minister to the caprices of rank what
+it withheld from the real sufferings of the same man in obscurity. His
+mother he had not seen yet; for Lady Netherby, much attached to her
+eldest son, and vain of abilities by which she reckoned on his future
+distinction, was herself seriously indisposed. Lord Netherby, however,
+had been a frequent visitor, and had already seen Forester several
+times, although always very briefly, and only upon the terms of distant
+politeness.
+
+Although in a state that precluded everything like active exertion, and
+which, indeed, made the slightest effort a matter of peril, Forester had
+already exchanged more than one communication with the Horse Guards
+on the subject of the Knight's safety, and received the most steady
+assurances that his exchange was an object on which the authorities were
+most anxious, and engaged at the very moment in negotiations for its
+accomplishment. There were two difficulties: one, that no officer of
+Darcy's precise rank was then a prisoner with the British; and secondly,
+that any very pressing desire expressed for his liberation would serve
+to weaken the force of that conviction they were so eager to impress,
+that the campaign was nearly ended, and that nothing but capitulation
+remained for the French.
+
+Forester was not more gratified than surprised at the tone of obliging
+and almost deferential politeness which pervaded each answer to his
+applications. He had yet to learn how a vote in the “Lords” can make
+secretaries civil, and Under-Secretaries most courteous; and while
+his few uncertain lines were penned with diffidence and distrust, the
+replies gradually inducted him into that sense of confidence which a few
+months later he was to feel like a birthright.
+
+How far these thoughts contributed to his recovery it would be difficult
+to say, nor does it exactly lie in our province to inquire. The
+likelihood is, that the inducements to live are strong aids to overcome
+sickness; for, as a witty observer has remarked, “There is no such
+_manque dre savoir vivre_ as dying at four-and-twenty.”
+
+It is very probable Forester experienced all this, and that the dreams
+of the future in which he indulged were not only his greatest but his
+pleasantest aid to recovery. A brilliant position, invested with rank,
+title, fortune, and a character for enterprise, are all flattering
+adjuncts to youth; while in the hope of succeeding where his dearest
+wishes were concerned, lay a source of far higher happiness. How to
+approach this subject again most fittingly, was now the constant object
+of his thoughts. He sometimes resolved to address Lady Eleanor; but so
+long as he could convey no precise tidings of the Knight, this would be
+an ungracious task. Then he thought of Miss Daly, but he did not know
+her address; all these doubts and hesitations invariably ending in
+the resolve that as soon as his strength permitted he would go over to
+Ireland, and finding out Bicknell, obtain accurate information as to
+Lady Eleanor's present residence, and also learn if, without being
+discovered, he could in any way be made serviceable to the interests of
+the family.
+
+Perhaps we cannot better convey the gradually dawning conviction of his
+altered fortune on his mind than by mentioning that while he canvassed
+these various chances, and speculated on their course, he never dwelt on
+the possibility of Lady Netherby's power to influence his determination.
+In the brief note he received from her each morning, the tone of
+affectionate solicitude for his health was always accompanied by some
+allusive hint of the “duties” recovery would impose, and each inquiry
+after his night's rest was linked with a not less anxious question as
+to how soon he might feel able to appear in public. Constitutionally
+susceptible of all attempts to control him, and from his childhood
+disposed to rebel against dictation, he limited his replies to brief
+accounts of his progress or inquiries after her own health, resolved
+in his heart that now that fortune was his own, to use the blessings it
+bestows according to the dictates of affection and a conscientious sense
+of right, and be neither the toy of a faction nor the tool of a party.
+In Darcy--could he but see him once more--he looked for a friend and
+adviser; and whatever the fortune of his suit, he felt that the Knight's
+counsels should be his guidance as to the future, reposing not even more
+trust on unswerving rectitude than the vast range of his knowledge of
+life, and the common-sense views he could take of the most complex as of
+the very simplest questions.
+
+It was now some seven weeks after his return, and Forester, for we
+would still desire to call him by the name our reader has known him,
+was sitting upon a sofa, weak and nervous, as the first day of a
+convalescent's appearance in the drawing-room usually is, when his
+servant, having deposited on the table several visiting-cards of
+distinguished inquirers, mentioned that the Earl of Netherby wished to
+pay his respects. Forester moved his head in token of assent, and his
+Lordship soon after entered.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIX. THE DAWN OF CONVALESCENCE
+
+Stepping noiselessly over the carpet, with an air at once animated and
+regardful of the sick man, Lord Netherby was at Forester's side before
+he could arise to receive him; and pressing him gently down with both
+hands, said, in a voice of most silvery cadence,--
+
+“My dear Lord--you must not stir for the world--Halford has only
+permitted me to see you under the strict pledge of prudence; and now,
+how are you? Ah! I see--weak and low. Come, you must let me speak for
+you, or at least interpret your answers to my own liking. We have so
+much to talk over, it is difficult where to begin.”
+
+“How is Lady Netherby?” said Forester, with a slight hesitation between
+the words.
+
+“Still very feeble and very nervous. The shock has been a dreadful one
+to her. You know that poor Augustus was coming home on leave--when--when
+this happened.”
+
+Here his Lordship sighed, but not too deeply, for he remembered that the
+law of primogeniture is the sworn enemy to grief.
+
+“There was some talk, too, of his being sent on a special embassy to
+Paris,--a very high and important trust,--and so really the affliction
+is aggravated by thinking what a career was opening to him. But, as the
+Dean of Walworth beautifully expressed it, 'We are cut down like flowers
+of the field.' Ah!”
+
+A sigh and a slight wave with a handkerchief, diffusing an odor of
+eau-de-Portugal through the chamber, closed this affecting sentiment.
+
+“I trust in a day or two I shall be able to see my mother,” said
+Forester, whose thoughts were following a far more natural channel.
+“I can walk a little to-day, and before the end of the week Halford
+promises me that I shall drive out.”
+
+“That 's the very point we are most anxious about,” said Lord Netherby,
+eagerly: “we want you, if possible, to take your seat in 'the Lords'
+next week. There is a special reason for it. Rumor runs that the
+Egyptian expedition will be brought on for discussion on Thursday next.
+Some malcontents are about to disparage the whole business, and, in
+particular, the affair at Alexandria. Ministers are strong enough to
+resist this attack, and even carry the war back into the enemy's camp;
+but we all think it would be a most fortunate moment for you, when
+making your first appearance in the House, to rise and say a few words
+on the subject of the campaign. The circumstances under which you
+joined--your very dangerous wound--have given you a kind of prerogative
+to speak, and the occasion is most opportune. Come, what say you? Would
+such an effort be too great?”
+
+“Certainly not for my strength, my Lord, if not for my shame' sake; for
+really I should feel it somewhat presumptuous in me, a man who carried
+his musket in the ranks, to venture on a discussion, far more a defence,
+of the great operations in which he was a mere unit; one of those rank
+and file who figured, without other designation, in lists of killed and
+wounded.”
+
+“This is very creditable to your modesty, my dear Lord,” said the old
+peer, smiling most blandly; “but pardon me if I say it displays a great
+forgetfulness of your present position. Remember that you now belong to
+the Upper House, and that the light of the peerage shines on the past as
+on the future.”
+
+“By which I am to understand,” replied Forester, laughing, “that the
+events which would have met a merited oblivion in Dick Forester's life
+are to be remembered with honor to the Earl of Wallincourt.”
+
+“Of course they are,” cried Lord Netherby, joining in the laugh. “If
+an unlikely scion of royalty ascends the throne, we look out for the
+evidences of his princely tastes in the sports of his boyhood. Nay, if a
+clever writer or painter wins distinction from the world, do we not 'try
+back' for his triumphs at school, or his chalk sketches on coach-house
+gates, to warrant the early development of genius?”
+
+“Well, my Lord,” said Forester, gayly, “I accept the augury; and as
+nothing more nearly concerns a man's life than the fate of those who
+have shown him friendship, let me inquire after some friends of mine,
+and some relations of yours,-the Darcys.”
+
+“Ah, those poor Darcys!” said Lord Netherby, wiping his eyes, and
+heaving a very profound sigh, as though to say that the theme was one
+far too painful to dwell upon, “theirs is a sad story, a very sad story
+indeed!”
+
+“Anything more gloomy than the loss of fortune, my Lord?” asked
+Forester, with a trembling lip, and a cheek pale as death. Lord Netherby
+stared to see whether the patient's mind was not beginning to wander.
+That there could be anything worse than loss of fortune he had yet
+to learn; assuredly he had never heard of it. Forester repeated his
+question.
+
+“No, no, perhaps not, if you understand by that phrase what I do,” said
+Lord Netherby, almost pettishly. “If, like me, you take in all the long
+train of ruin and decay such loss implies,--pecuniary distress, moneyed
+difficulties, fallen condition in society, inferior association--”
+
+“Nay, my Lord, in the present instance, I can venture to answer for
+it, such consequences have not ensued. You do your relatives scarcely
+justice to suppose it.”
+
+“It is very good and very graceful, both, in you,” said Lord Netherby,
+with an almost angelic smile, “to say so. Unfortunately, these are
+not merely speculative opinions on my part. While I make this remark,
+understand me as by no means imputing any blame to them. What could they
+do?--that is the question,--what could they do?”
+
+“I would rather ask of your Lordship, what have they done? When I know
+that, I shall be, perhaps, better enabled to reply to your question.”
+
+In all likelihood it was more the manner than the substance of this
+question which made Lord Netherby hesitate how to reply to it, and at
+last he said,--
+
+“To say in so many words what they have done, is not so easy. It would,
+perhaps, give better insight into the circumstances were I to say what
+they have not done.”
+
+“Even as you please, my Lord. The negative charge, then,” said Forester,
+impatiently.
+
+“Lord Castlereagh, my Lord!” said a servant, throwing open the door; for
+he had already received orders to admit him when he called, though, had
+Forester guessed how inopportune the visit could have proved, he would
+never have said so.
+
+In the very different expressions of Lord Netherby and the sick man's
+face, it might be seen how differently they welcomed the new arrival.
+
+Lord Castlereagh saluted both with a courteous and cordial greeting,
+and although he could not avoid seeing that he had dropped in somewhat
+_mal-à-propos_, he resolved rather to shorten the limit of his stay
+than render it awkward by any expressions of apology. The conversation,
+therefore, took that easy, careless tone in which each could join with
+freedom. It was after a brief pause, when none exactly liked to be the
+first to speak, that Lord Netherby observed,--
+
+“The very moment you were announced, my Lord, I was endeavoring to
+persuade my young friend here to a line of conduct in which, if I have
+your Lordship's co-operation, I feel I shall be successful.”
+
+“Pray let me hear it,” said Lord Castlereagh, gayly, and half
+interrupting what he feared was but the opening of an over-lengthy
+exposition.
+
+Lord Netherby was not to be defeated so easily, nor defrauded of a theme
+whereupon to expend many loyal sentiments; and so he opened a whole
+battery of arguments on the subject of the young peer's first appearance
+in the House, and the splendid opportunity, as he called it, of a maiden
+speech.
+
+“I see but one objection,” said Lord Castlereagh, with a well-affected
+gravity.
+
+“I see one hundred,” broke in Forester, impatiently.
+
+“Perhaps _my_ one will do,” rejoined Lord Castlereagh.
+
+“Which is--if I may take the liberty--” lisped out Lord Netherby.
+
+“That there will be no debate on the subject. The motion is withdrawn.”
+
+“Motion withdrawn!--since when?”
+
+“I see you have not heard the news this morning,” said Lord Castlereagh,
+who really enjoyed the discomfiture of one very vain of possessing the
+earliest intelligence.
+
+“I have heard nothing,” exclaimed he, with a sigh of despondency.
+
+“Well, then, I may inform you, that the 'Pike' has brought us very
+stirring intelligence. The war in Egypt is now over. The French have
+surrendered under the terms of a convention, and a treaty has been
+ratified that permits their return to France. Hostages for the guarantee
+of the treaty have been already interchanged, and”--here he turned
+towards Forester, and added--“it will doubtless interest you to hear
+that your old friend the Knight of Gwynne is one of them,--an evidence
+that he is not only alive, but in good health also.”
+
+“This is, indeed, good news you bring me,” said Forester, with a
+flashing eye and a heightened complexion. “Has any one written? Do
+Colonel Darcy's friends know of this?”
+
+“I have myself done so,” said Lord Castlereagh. “Not that I may
+attribute the thoughtful attention to myself, for I received his Royal
+Highness's commands on the subject I need scarcely say that such a
+communication must be gratifying to any one.”
+
+“Where are they at present?” said Forester, eagerly.
+
+“That was a question of some difficulty to me, and I accordingly called
+on my Lord Netherby to ascertain the point. I found he had left home,
+and now have the good fortune to catch him here.” So saying, Lord
+Castlereagh took from the folds of a pocket-book a sealed but
+un-addressed letter, and dipping a pen in the ink before him, prepared
+to write.
+
+There were, indeed, very few occurrences in life which made Lord
+Netherby feel ashamed. He had never been obliged to blush for any
+solecism in manner or any offence against high breeding, nor had the
+even tenor of his days subjected him to any occasion of actual shame, so
+that the confusion he now felt had the added poignancy of being a new as
+well as a painful sensation.
+
+“It may seem very strange to you, my Lord,” said he, in a broken and
+hesitating voice; “not but that, on a little reflection, the case will
+be easily accounted for; but--so it is--I--really must own--I must
+frankly acknowledge--that I am not at this moment aware of my dear
+cousin's address.”
+
+If his Lordship had not been too much occupied in watching Lord
+Castlereagh's countenance, he could not have failed to see, and be
+struck by, the indignant expression of Forester's features.
+
+“How are we to reach them, then, that's the point?” said Lord
+Castlereagh, over whose handsome face not the slightest trace of passion
+was visible. “If I mistake not, Gwynne Abbey they have left many a day
+since.”
+
+“I think I can lay my hand on a letter. I am almost certain I had one
+from a law-agent, called--called--”
+
+“Bicknell, perhaps,” interrupted Forester, blushing between shame and
+impatience.
+
+“Quite right,--you are quite right,” replied Lord Netherby, with a
+significant glance at Lord Castlereagh, cunningly intended to draw off
+attention from himself. “Well, Mr. Bicknell wrote to me a very tiresome
+and complicated epistle about law affairs,--motions, rules, and so
+forth,--and mentioned at the end that Lady Eleanor and Helen were living
+in some remote village on the northern coast.”
+
+“A cottage called 'The Corvy,'” broke in Forester, “kindly lent to them
+by an old friend, Mr. Bagenal Daly.”
+
+“Will that address suffice,” said Lord Castlereagh, “with the name of
+the nearest post-town?”
+
+“If you will make me the postman, I 'll vouch for the safe delivery,”
+ said Forester, with an animation that made him flushed and pale within
+the same instant.
+
+“My dear young friend, my dear Lord Wallincourt!” exclaimed Lord
+Netherby, laying his hand upon his arm. He said no more; indeed
+he firmly believed the enunciation of his new title must be quite
+sufficient to recall him to a sense of due consideration for himself.
+
+“You are scarcely strong enough, Dick,” said Lord Castlereagh, coolly.
+“It is a somewhat long journey for an invalid; and Halford, I 'm sure,
+wouldn't agree to it.”
+
+“I 'm quite strong enough,” said Forester, rising and pacing the
+room with an attempted vigor that made his debility seem still more
+remarkable: “if not to-day, I shall be to-morrow. The travelling,
+besides, will serve me,--change of air and scene. More than all, I am
+determined on doing it.”
+
+“Not if I refuse you the despatches, I suppose?” said Lord Castlereagh,
+laughing.
+
+“You can scarcely do that,” said Forester, fixing his eyes steadfastly
+on him. “Your memory is a bad one, or you must recollect sending me
+down once upon a time to that family on an errand of a different nature.
+Don't you think you owe an amende to them and to me?”
+
+“Eh! what was that? I should like to know what you allude to,” said Lord
+Netherby, whose curiosity became most painfully eager.
+
+“A little secret between Dick and myself,” said Lord Castlereagh,
+laughing. “To show I do not forget which, I 'll accede to his present
+request, always provided that he is equal to it.”
+
+“Oh, as to that--”
+
+“It must be 'Halfordo non obstante,' or not at all,” said Lord
+Castlereagh, rising. “Well,” continued he, as he moved towards the
+door, “I 'll see the doctor on my way homeward, and if he incline to the
+safety of the exploit, you shall hear from me before four o'clock. I
+'ll send you some extracts, too, from the official papers, such as may
+interest your friends, and you may add, _bien des choses de ma part_, in
+the way of civil speeches and gratulation.”
+
+Lord Netherby had moved towards the window as Lord Castlereagh withdrew,
+and seemed more interested by the objects in the street than anxious to
+renew the interrupted conversation.
+
+Forester--if one were to judge from his preoccupied expression--appeared
+equally indifferent on the subject, and both were silent. Lord Netherby
+at last looked at his watch, and, with an exclamation of astonishment at
+the lateness of the hour, took up his hat. Forester did not notice the
+gesture, for his mind had suddenly become awake to the indelicacy, to
+say no worse, of leaving London for a long journey without one effort to
+see his mother. A tingling feeling of shame burned in his cheek and
+made his heart beat faster, as he said, “I think you have your carriage
+below, my Lord?”
+
+“Yes,” replied Lord Netherby, not aware whether the question might
+portend something agreeable or the reverse.
+
+“If you 'll permit me, I 'll ask you to drive me to Berkeley Square. I
+think the air and motion will benefit me; and perhaps Lady Netherby will
+see me.”
+
+“Delighted--charmed to see you--my dear young friend,” said Lord
+Netherby, who having, in his own person, some experience of the sway and
+influence her Ladyship was habituated to exercise, calculated largely on
+the effect of an interview between her and her son. “I don't believe you
+could possibly propose anything more gratifying nor more likely to serve
+her. She is very weak and very nervous; but to see you will, I know, be
+of immense service. I 'm sure you 'll not agitate her,” added he, after
+a pause. If the words had been “not contradict,” they would have been
+nearer his meaning.
+
+“You may trust me, for both our sakes,” said Forester, smiling. “By the
+by, you mentioned a letter from a law-agent of the Darcys, Mr. Bicknell;
+was it expressive of any hope of a favorable termination to the suit, or
+did he opine that the case was a bad one?”
+
+“If I remember aright, a very bad one,--bad, from the deficiency of
+evidence; worse, from the want of funds to carry it on. Of course I only
+speak from memory; and the epistle was so cramp, so complex, and with
+such a profusion of detail intermixed, that I could make little out of
+it, and retain even less. I must say that as it was written without my
+cousin's knowledge or consent, I paid no attention to it. It was, so to
+say, quite unauthorized.”
+
+“Indeed!” exclaimed Forester, in an accent whose scorn was mistaken by
+the hearer, as he resumed.
+
+“Just so; a mere lawyer's _ruse_, to carry on a suit. He proposed, I
+own, a kind of security for any advance I should make, in the person
+of Miss Daly, whose property, amounting to some three or four thousand
+pounds, was to be given as security! There always is some person of this
+kind on these occasions--some tame elephant--to attract the rest; but
+I paid no attention to it. The only thing, indeed, I could learn of the
+lady was, that she had a fire-eating brother who paid bond debts with a
+pistol, and small ones with a horsewhip.”
+
+“I know Mr. Daly and his sister too. He is a most honorable and
+high-minded gentleman; of her I only needed to hear the trait your
+Lordship has just mentioned, to say that she is worthy to be his sister
+in every respect.”
+
+“I was not aware that they were acquaintances of yours.”
+
+“Friends, my Lord, would better express the relationship between
+us,--friends, firm and true, I sincerely believe them. Pray, if not
+indiscreet, may I ask the date of this letter?”
+
+“Some day of June last, I think. The case was to come on for trial next
+November in Westport, and it was for funds to carry on the suit, it
+would seem, they were pressed.”
+
+“You did n't hear a second time?”
+
+“No, I 've told you that I never answered this letter. I was quite
+willing, I am so at this hour, to be of any service to my dear cousin,
+Lady Eleanor Darcy, and to aid her to the fullest extent; but to
+prosecute a hopeless lawsuit, to throw away some thousands in an
+interminable Equity investigation,--to measure purses, too, against one
+of the richest men in Ireland, as I hear their antagonist is,--this, I
+could never think of.”
+
+“But who has pronounced this claim hopeless?” said Forester,
+impatiently.
+
+A cold shrug of the shoulders was all Lord Netherby's reply.
+
+“Not Miss Daly, certainly,” rejoined Forester, “who was willing to peril
+everything she possessed in the world upon the issue.”
+
+The sarcasm intended by this speech was deeply felt by Lord Netherby, as
+with an unwonted concession to ill-humor, he replied,--
+
+“There is nothing so courageous as indigence!”
+
+“Better never be rich, then,” cried Forester, “if cowardice be the first
+lesson it teaches. But I think better of affluence than this. I saw
+that same Knight of Gwynne when at the head of a princely fortune; and
+I never, in any rank of life, under any circumstances, saw the qualities
+which grace and adorn the humblest more eminently displayed.”
+
+“I quite agree with you; a more perfectly conducted household it is
+impossible to conceive.”
+
+“I speak not of his retinue, nor of his graceful hospitalities, my Lord,
+nor even of his generous munificence and benevolence; these are rich
+men's gifts everywhere. I speak of his trusting, confiding temper; the
+hopeful trust he entertained of something good in men's natures at
+the moment he was smarting from their perfidy and ingratitude; the
+forgiveness towards those that injured, the unvarying kindness towards
+those that forgot him.”
+
+“I declare,” said Lord Netherby, smiling, “I must interdict a
+continuance of this panegyric, now that we have arrived, for you know
+Colonel Darcy was a first love of Lady Netherby.”
+
+Nothing but a courtier of Lord Netherby's stamp could have made such a
+speech; and while Forester became scarlet with shame and anger, a new
+light suddenly broke upon him, and the rancor of his mother respecting
+the Knight and his family was at once explained.
+
+“Now to announce you,” said Lord Netherby, gayly; “let that be my task.”
+ And so saying, he lightly tripped up the stairs before Forester.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXX. A BOUDOIR.
+
+When, having passed through a suite of gorgeously furnished rooms,
+Forester entered the dimly lighted boudoir where his lady-mother
+reclined, his feelings were full of troubled emotion. The remembrance
+of the last time he had been there was present to his mind, mingled
+with anxious fears as to his approaching reception. Had he been more
+conversant with the “world,” he needed not to have suffered these
+hesitations. There are few conditions in life between which so wide
+a gulf yawns as that of the titled heir of a house and the younger
+brother. He was, then, as little prepared for the affectionate
+greeting that met him as for the absence of all trace of illness in her
+Ladyship's appearance. Both were very grateful to his feelings as he
+drew his chair beside her sofa, and a soft remembrance of former days of
+happiness stole over his pleased senses. Lord Netherby, with a fitting
+consideration, had left them to enjoy this interview alone, and thus
+their emotions were unrestrained by the presence of the only one who had
+witnessed their parting. Perhaps the most distinguishing trait of the
+closest affection is that the interruptions to its course do not involve
+the misery of reconciliation to enable us to return to our own place in
+the heart; but that, the moment of grief or anger or doubt over, we
+feel that we have a right to resume our influence in the breast whose
+thoughts have so long mingled with our own. The close ties of filial and
+parental love are certainly of this nature, and it must be a stubborn
+heart whose instincts do not tend to that forgiveness which as much
+blots out as it pardons past errors. Such was not Lady Netherby's.
+Pride of station, the ambition of leadership in certain circles, had so
+incorporated themselves with the better dictates of her mind that she
+rarely, if ever, permitted mere feeling to influence her; but if for
+a moment it did get the ascendancy, her heart could feel as acutely as
+though it had been accustomed to such indulgence. In a word, she was as
+affectionate as the requirements of her rank permitted. Oh, this Rank,
+this Rank! how do its conventionalities twine and twist themselves round
+our natures till love and friendship are actually subject to the cold
+ordinance of a fashion! How many hide the dark spots of their heart
+behind the false screen they call their “Rank”! The rich man, in the
+Bible, clothed in his purple, and faring sumptuously, was but acting in
+conformity with his “Rank;” nay, more, he was charitable as became his
+“Rank,” for the poor were fed with the crumbs from his table.
+
+Forester was well calculated by natural advantages to attract a mother's
+pride. He was handsome and well-bred; had even more than a fair share
+of abilities, which gained credit for something higher from a
+native quickness of apprehension; and even already the adventurous
+circumstances of his first campaign had invested his character with a
+degree of interest that promised well for his success in the world. If
+her manner to him was then kind and affectionate, it was mingled also
+with something of admiration, which her woman's heart yielded to the
+romantic traits of the youth.
+
+She listened with eager pleasure to the animated description he gave of
+the morning at Aboukir, and the brilliant panorama of the attack; nor
+was the enjoyment marred by the mention of the only name that could have
+pained her, the last words of Lord Netherby having sealed Forester's
+lips with respect to the Knight of Gwynne.
+
+The changeful fortunes of his life as a prisoner were mingled with the
+recital of the news by which his exchange was effected; and this brought
+back once more the subject by which their interview was opened,--the
+death of his elder brother. Lady Netherby perhaps felt she had done
+enough for sorrow, for she dwelt but passingly on the theme, and rather
+addressed herself to the future which was now about to open before her
+remaining son, carefully avoiding, however, the slightest phrase
+that should imply dictation, and only seeming to express the natural
+expectation “the world” had formed of what his career should be. “Lord
+Netherby tells me,” said she, “that the Duke of York will, in all
+likelihood, name you as an extra aide-decamp, in which case you probably
+would remain in the service. It is an honor that could not well be
+declined.”
+
+“I scarcely like to form fixed intentions which have no fixed
+foundations,” said Forester; “but if I might give way to my own wishes,
+it would be to indulge in perfect liberty,--to have no master.”
+
+“Nor any mistress, either, to control you, for some time, I suppose,”
+ rejoined she, smiling, as if carelessly, but watching how her words were
+taken. Forester affected to partake in the laugh, but could not conceal
+a slight degree of confusion. Lady Netherby was too clever a tactician
+to let even a momentary awkwardness interrupt the interview, and
+resumed: “You will be dreadfully worried by all the 'lionizing' in store
+for you, I'm certain; you are to be feasted and feted to any extent, and
+will be fortunate if the gratulations on your recovery do not bring back
+your illness.”
+
+“I shall get away from it all at once,” said Forester, rising, and
+walking up and down, as if the thought had suggested the impatient
+movement.
+
+“You cannot avoid presenting yourself at the levee,” said Lady Netherby,
+anxiously; for already a dread of her son's wilful temper came over her.
+“His Royal Highness's inquiries after you do not leave an option on this
+matter.”
+
+“What if I'm too ill?” said he, doggedly; “what if I should not be in
+town?”
+
+“But where else could you be, Richard?” said she, with a resumption of
+her old imperiousness of tone and manner.
+
+“In Ireland, madam,” said Forester, coldly.
+
+“In Ireland! And why, for any sake, in Ireland?”
+
+Forester hesitated, and grew scarlet; he did not know whether to evade
+inquiry by a vague reply, or at once avow his secret determination.
+At length, with a faltering, uncertain voice, he said: “A matter of
+business will bring me to that country; I have already conversed with
+Lord Castlereagh on the subject. Lord Netherby was present.”
+
+“I'm sure he could never concur,-I'm certain.” So far her Ladyship had
+proceeded, when a sudden fear came over her that she had ventured too
+far, and turning hastily, she rang the bell beside her. “Davenport,”
+ said she to the grave-looking groom of the chambers, who as
+instantaneously appeared, “is my Lord at home?”
+
+“His Lordship is in the library, my Lady.”
+
+“Alone?”
+
+“No, my Lady, a gentleman from Ireland is with his Lordship.”
+
+“A gentleman from Ireland!” repeated she, half aloud, as though the very
+mention of that country were destined to persecute her; then quickly
+added, “Say I wish to speak with him here.”
+
+The servant bowed and withdrew; and now a perfect silence reigned in the
+apartment. Forester felt that he had gone too far to retreat, even
+were he so disposed, and although dreading nothing more than a “scene,”
+ awaited, without speaking, the course of events. As much yielding to an
+involuntary impatience as to relieve the awkwardness of the interval,
+he arose and walked into the adjoining drawing-room, carelessly tossing
+over books and prints upon the tables, and trying to affect an ease he
+was very far from experiencing.
+
+It was while he was thus engaged that Lord Netherby entered the boudoir,
+and seeing her Ladyship alone, was about to speak in his usual tone,
+when, at a gesture from her, he was made aware of Forester's vicinity,
+and hastily subdued his voice to a whisper. “Whatever the nature of the
+tidings which in a hurried and eager tone his Lordship retailed, her
+manner on hearing evinced a mingled astonishment and delight, if the
+word dare be applied to an emotion whose source was in anything rather
+than an amiable feeling.
+
+“It seems too absurd, too monstrous in every way,” exclaimed she, at the
+end of an explanation which took several minutes to recount. “And why
+address himself to you? That seems also inexplicable.”
+
+“This,” rejoined Lord Netherby, aloud,---“this was his own inspiration.
+He candidly acknowledges that no one either counselled or is even aware
+of the step he has taken.”
+
+“Perhaps the _à propos_ may do us good service,” whispered she, with a
+glance darted at the room where Forester was now endeavoring, by humming
+an air, to give token of his vicinity as well as assume an air of
+indifference.
+
+“I thought of that,” said Lord Netherby, in the same low voice. “Would
+you see him? A few moments would be enough.”
+
+Lady Netherby made no answer, but with closed eyes and compressed lips
+seemed to reflect deeply for several minutes. At last she said: “Yes,
+let him come. I'll detain Richard in the drawing-room; he shall hear
+everything that is said. If I know anything of him, the insult to his
+pride will do far more than all our arguments and entreaties.”
+
+“Don't chill my little friend by any coldness of manner,” said his
+Lordship, smiling, as he moved towards the door; “I have only got him
+properly thawed within the last few minutes.”
+
+“My dear Richard,” said she, as the door closed after Lord Netherby, “I
+must keep you prisoner in the drawing-room for a few minutes, while I
+receive a visitor of Lord Netherby's. Don't close the doors; I can't
+endure heat and this room becomes insupportable without a slight
+current of air. Besides, there is no secret, I fancy, in the
+communication. As well as I understand the matter, it does not concern
+us; but Netherby is always doing some piece of silly good-nature, for
+which no one thanks him!”
+
+The last reflection was half soliloquy, but said so that Forester could
+and did hear every word of it. While her Ladyship, therefore, patiently
+awaited the arrival of her visitor in one room, Forester threw himself
+into a chair, and taking up a book at hazard, endeavored to pass the
+interval without further thought about the matter.
+
+Sitting with his back towards the door of the boudoir. Forester
+accidentally had placed himself in such a position that a large mirror
+between the windows reflected to him a considerable portion of the scene
+within. It was then with an amount of astonishment far above ordinary
+that he beheld the strange-looking figure who followed Lord Netherby
+into the apartment of his mother. He was a short, dumpy man, with a bald
+head, over which the long hairs of either side were studiously combed
+into an ingenious kind of network, and meeting at an angle above
+the cranium, looked like the uncovered rafters of a new house. Two
+fierce-looking gray eyes that seemed ready for fun or malice, rolled
+and revolved unceasingly over the various decorations of the chamber,
+while a large thick-lipped mouth, slightly opened at either end, vouched
+for one who neglected no palpable occasion for self-indulgence or
+enjoyment. There was, indeed, throughout his appearance, a look of racy
+satisfaction and contentment, that consorted but ill with his costume,
+which was a suit of deep mourning; his clothes having all the gloss
+and shine of a recent domestic loss, and made, as seems something to be
+expected on these occasions, considerably too large for him, as though
+to imply that the defunct should not be defrauded in the full measure of
+sorrow. Deep crape weepers encircled his arms to the elbows, and a very
+banner of black hung mournfully from his hat.
+
+[Illustration: 368]
+
+“Mr.-------” Here Lord Netherby hesitated, forgetful of his name.
+
+“Dempsey, Paul Dempsey, your Grace,” said the little man, as, stepping
+forward, he performed the salutation before Lady Netherby, by which he
+was accustomed to precede an invitation to dance.
+
+“Pray be seated, Mr. Dempsey. I have just briefly mentioned to her
+Ladyship the circumstances of our interesting conversation, and with
+your permission will proceed with my recital, begging that if I fall
+into any error you will kindly set me right. This will enable Lady
+Netherby, who is still an invalid, to support the fatigue of an
+interview wherein her advice and counsel will be of great benefit to us
+both.”
+
+Mr. Dempsey bowed several times, not sorry, perhaps, that in such an
+awful presence he was spared the office of chief orator.
+
+“I told you, my dear,” said Lord Netherby, turning towards her
+Ladyship, “that this gentleman had for a considerable time back enjoyed
+the pleasure of intimacy with our worthy relative Lady Eleanor Darcy--”
+
+The fall of a heavy book in the adjoining room interrupted his Lordship,
+between whom and Lady Netherby a most significant interchange of glances
+took place. He resumed, however, without a pause,--
+
+“Lady Eleanor and her accomplished daughter. If the more urgent question
+were uot now before us, it would gratify you to learn, as I have just
+done, the admirable patience she has exhibited under the severe trials
+she has met; the profound insight she obtained into the condition,
+hopeless as it proves to be, of their unhappy circumstances; and the
+resignation in which, submitting to changed fortune, she not only has at
+once abandoned the modes of living she was habituated to, but actually
+descended to what I can fancy must have been the hardest infliction of
+all,--vulgar companionship, and the society of a boarding-house.”
+
+“A most respectable establishment, though,” broke in Paul; “Fumbally's
+is known all over Ulster--”
+
+A very supercilious smile from Lady Netherby cut short a panegyric Mr.
+Dempsey would gladly have extended.
+
+“No doubt, sir, it was the best thing of the kind,” resumed his
+Lordship; “but remember who Lady Eleanor Darcy was,--ay, and is.
+Think of the station she had always held, and then fancy her in daily
+intercourse with those people--”
+
+“Oh, it is very horrid, indeed!” broke in Lady Netherby, leaning back,
+and looking overcome even at the bare conception of the enormity.
+
+“The little miserable notorieties of a fishing-village--”
+
+“Coleraine, my Lord,--Coleraine,” cried Dempsey.
+
+“Well, be it so. What is Coleraine?”
+
+“A very thriving town on the river Bann, with a smart trade in yarn, two
+breweries, three meeting-houses, a pound, and a Sunday-school,” repeated
+Paul, as rapidly as though reading from a volume of a topographical
+dictionary.
+
+“All very commendable and delightful institutions, on which I beg
+heartily to offer my congratulations, but, you will allow me to remark,
+scarcely enough to compensate for the accustomed appliances of a
+residence at Gwynne Abbey. But I see we are trespassing on Lady
+Netherby's strength. You seem faint, my dear.”
+
+“It's nothing,--it will pass over in a moment or so. This sad account of
+these poor people has distressed me greatly.”
+
+“Well, then, we must hasten on. Mr. Dempsey became acquainted with our
+poor friends in this their exile; and although from his delicacy and
+good taste he will not dwell on the circumstance, it is quite clear to
+me, has shown them many attentions; I might use a stronger word, and say
+kindnesses.”
+
+“Oh! by Jove, I did nothing. I could do nothing--”
+
+“Nay, sir, you are unjust to yourself; the very intentions by which
+you set out on your present journey are the shortest answer to that
+question. It would appear, my dear, that my fair relative, Miss
+Darcy, has not forfeited the claim she possessed to great beauty and
+attraction; for here, in the gentleman before us, is an evidence of
+their existence. Mr. Dempsey, who 'never told his love,' as the poet
+says, waited in submission himself for the hour of his changing fortune;
+and until the death of his mother--”
+
+“No, my Lord; my uncle, Bob Dempsey, of Dempsey's Grove.”
+
+“His uncle, I mean. Mr. Dempsey, of Dempsey's Hole.”
+
+“Grove,-Dempsey's Grove,” interpolated Paul, reddening.
+
+“Grove, I should say,” repeated Lord Netherby, unmoved. “By which he has
+succeeded to a very comfortable independence, and is now in a position
+to make an offer of his hand and fortune.”
+
+“Under the conditions, my Lord,--under the conditions,” whispered Paul.
+
+“I have not forgotten them,” resumed Lord Netherby, aloud. “It would be
+ungenerous not to remember them, even for your sake, Mr. Dempsey, seeing
+how much my poor, dear relative, Lady Eleanor, is beut on prosecuting
+this unhappy suit, void of all hope, as it seems to be, and not having
+any money of her owu--”
+
+“Ready money,--cash,” interposed Paul.
+
+“So I mean--ready money to make the advances necessary--Mr. Dempsey
+wishes to raise a certain sum by loan, on the security of his property,
+which may enable the Darcys to proceed with their claim; this deed to be
+executed on his marriage with Miss Darcy. Am I correct, sir?”
+
+“Quite correct, my Lord; you've only omitted that, to save expensive
+searches, lawyers' fees, and other devilments of the like nature, that
+your Lordship should advance the blunt yourself?”
+
+“I was coming to that point. Mr. Dempsey opines that, taking the
+interest it is natural we should do in our poor friends, he has a
+kind of claim to make this proposition to us. He is aware of our
+relationship--mine, I mean--to Lady Eleanor. She spoke to you, I
+believe, on that subject, Mr. Dempsey?”
+
+“Not exactly to _me_,” said Paul, hesitating, and recalling the manner
+in which he became cognizant of the circumstance; “but I heard her
+say that your Lordship was under very deep obligation to her own
+father,--that you were, so to say, a little out at elbows once, very
+like myself before Bob died, and that then--”
+
+“We all lived together like brothers and sisters,” said his Lordship,
+reddening. “I 'm sure I can't forget how happily the time went over.”
+
+“Then Lady Eleanor, I presume, sir, did not advert to those
+circumstances as a reason for your addressing yourself to Lord
+Netherby?” said her Ladyship, with a look of stern severity.
+
+“Why, my Lady, she knows nothing about my coming here. Lord bless us! I
+wouldn't have told her for a thousand pounds!”
+
+“Nor Miss Darcy, either?”
+
+“Not a bit of it! Oh, by Jove! if you think they 're not as proud as
+ever they were, you are much mistaken; and, indeed, on this very same
+subject I heard her say that nothing would induce her to accept a favor
+from your Lordship, if even so very improbable an event should occur as
+your offering one.”
+
+“So that we owe the honor of your visit to the most single-minded of
+motives, sir,” said Lady Netherby, whose manner had now assumed all its
+stateliness.
+
+“Yes, my Lady, I came as you see,--_Dempsius cum Dempsio_,--so that if I
+succeed, I can say like that fellow in the play, 'Alone, I did it.'”
+
+Lord Netherby, who probably felt that the interview had lasted
+sufficiently long for the only purpose he had destined or endured it,
+was now becoming somewhat desirous of terminating the audience; nor
+was his impatience allayed by those sportive sallies of Mr. Dempsey in
+allusion to his own former condition as a dependant.
+
+At length he said, “You must be aware, Mr. Dempsey, that this is a
+matter demanding much time and consideration. The Knight of Gwynne is
+absent.”
+
+“That's the reason there is not an hour to lose,” interposed Paul.
+
+“I am at a loss for your meaning.”
+
+“I mean that if he comes home before it 's all settled, that the game is
+up. He would never consent, I 'm certain.”
+
+“So you think that the ladies regard you with more favorable eyes?” said
+her Ladyship, smiling a mixture of superciliousness and amusement.
+
+“I have my own reasons to think so,” said Paul, with great composure.
+
+“Perhaps you take too hopeless a view of your case, sir,” resumed Lord
+Netherby, blandly. “I am, unhappily, very ignorant of Irish family rank;
+but I feel assured that Mr. Dempsey, of Dempsey's Hole--”
+
+“Grove,--Dempsey's Grove,” said Paul, with a look of anger.
+
+“I ask your pardon, humbly,--I would say of Dempsey's Grove,-might be an
+accepted suitor in the very highest quarters. At all events, from news
+I have heard this morning it is more than likely that the Knight will
+be in London before many weeks, and I dare not assume either the
+responsibility of favoring your views, or incurring his displeasure by
+an act of interference. I think her Ladyship coucurs with me.”
+
+“Perfectly. The case is really one which, however we may and do feel the
+liveliest interest in, lies quite beyond our influence or control.”
+
+“Mr. Dempsey may rest assured that, even from so brief an acquaintance,
+we have learned to appreciate some of his many excellent qualities of
+head and heart.”
+
+Lady Netherby bowed an acquiescence cold and stately; and, his Lordship
+rising at the same time, Paul saw that the audience drew to a close. He
+arose then slowly, and with a faint sigh,--for he thought of his long
+and dreary journey, made to so little profit.
+
+“So I may jog back again as I came,” muttered he, as he drew on
+his gloves. “Well, well, Lady Eleanor knew him better than I did.
+Good-morning, my Lady. I hope you are about to enjoy better health.
+Good-bye, my Lord.”
+
+“Do you make any stay in town, Mr. Dempsey?” inquired his Lordship, in
+that bland voice that best became him. “Till I pack my portmanteau, my
+Lord, and pay my bill at the 'Tavistock,'--not an hour longer.”
+
+“I 'm sorry for that. I had hoped, and Lady Netherby also expected, we
+should have the pleasure of seeing you again.”
+
+“Very grateful, my Lord; but I see how the land lies as well as if I was
+here a month.”
+
+And with this significant speech Mr. Dempsey repeated his salutations
+and withdrew.
+
+“What presumption!” exclaimed Lady Netherby, as the door closed behind
+him. “But how needlessly Lady Eleanor Darcy must have lowered herself to
+incur such acquaintanceship!”
+
+Lord Netherby made no reply, but gave a glance towards the still open
+door of the drawing-room. Her Ladyship understood it at once, and
+said,--
+
+“Oh, let us release poor Richard from his bondage. Tell him to come in.”
+
+Lord Netherby walked forward; but scarcely had he entered the
+drawing-room, when he called out, “He 's gone!”
+
+“Gone! when?--how?” cried Lady Netherby, ringing the bell. “Did you
+see Lord Wall incourt when he was going, Davenport?” asked she, at once
+assuming her own calm deportment.
+
+“Yes, my Lady.”
+
+“I hope he took the carriage.”
+
+“No, my Lady, his Lordship went on foot.”
+
+“That will do, Davenport. I don't receive to-day.”
+
+“I must hasten after him,” said Lord Netherby, as the servant withdrew.
+“We have, perhaps, incurred the very hazard we hoped to obviate.”
+
+“I half feared it,” exclaimed Lady Netherby, gravely. “Lose no time,
+however, and bring him to dinner; say that I feel very poorly, and that
+his society will cheer me greatly. If he is unfit to leave the house,
+stay with him; but above all things let him not be left alone.”
+
+Lord Netherby hastened from the room, and his carriage was soon heard at
+a rapid pace proceeding down the square.
+
+Lady Netherby sat with her eyes fixed on the carpet, and her hands
+clasped closely, lost in thought. “Yes,” said she, half aloud, “there is
+a fate in it! This Lady Eleanor may have her vengeance yet!”
+
+It was about an hour after this, and while she was still revolving her
+own deep thoughts, that Lord Netherby re-entered the room.
+
+“Well, is he here?” asked she, impatiently.
+
+“No, he's off to Ireland; the very moment he reached the hotel he
+ordered four horses to his carriage, and while his servant packed some
+trunks he himself drove over to Lord Castlereagh's, but came back almost
+immediately. They must have used immense despatch, for Long told me that
+they would be nigh Barnet when I called.”
+
+“He 's a true Wallincourt,” said her Ladyship, bitterly. “Their family
+motto is 'Rash in danger,' and they have well deserved it.”
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXI. A LESSON FOR EAVES-DROPPING.
+
+Forester--for so to the end we must call him--but exemplified the
+old adage in his haste. The debility of long illness was successfully
+combated for some hours by the fever of excitement; but as that wore
+off, symptoms of severe malady again exhibited themselves, and when
+on the second evening of his journey he arrived at Bangor, he was
+dangerously ill. With a head throbbing, and a brain almost mad, he threw
+himself upon a bed, perhaps the thought of his abortive effort to reach
+Ireland the most agonizing feeling of his tortured mind. His first care
+was to inquire after the sailing of the packet; and learning that the
+vessel would leave within an hour, he avowed his resolve to go at every
+hazard. As the time drew nigh, however, more decided evidences of fever
+set in, and the medical man who had been called to his aid pronounced
+that his life would pay the penalty were he to persist in his rash
+resolve. His was not a temper to yield to persuasion on selfish grounds,
+and nothing short of his actual inability to endure moving from where he
+lay at last compelled him to cede; even then he ordered his only servant
+to take the despatches which Lord Castlereagh had given him, and proceed
+with them to Dublin, where he should seek out Mr. Bicknell, and place
+them in his hands, with strict injunctions to have them forwarded to
+Lady Eleanor Darcy at once. The burning anxiety of a mind weakened by
+a tedious and severe malady, the fever of travelling, and the impatient
+struggles be made to be clear and explicit in his directions, repeated
+as they were full twenty times over, all conspired to exaggerate the
+worst features of his case; and ere the packet sailed, his head was
+wandering in wild delirium.
+
+Linwood knew his master too well to venture on a contradiction; and
+although with very grave doubts that he should ever see him again alive,
+he set out, resolving to spare no exertions to be back soon again in
+Bangor. The transit of the Channel forty-five years ago was, however,
+very different from that at present, and it was already the evening of
+the following day when he reached Dublin.
+
+There was no difficulty in finding out Mr. Bicknell's residence; a very
+showy brass-plate on a door in a fashionable street proclaimed the house
+of the well-known man of law. He was not at home, however, nor would be
+for some hours; he had gone out on a matter of urgent business, and left
+orders that except for some most pressing reason, he was not to be sent
+for. Linwood did not hesitate to pronounce his business such, and at
+length obtained the guidance of a servant to the haunt in question.
+
+It was in a street of a third or fourth-rate rank, called Stafford
+Street, that Bicknell's servant now stopped, and having made more than
+one inquiry as to name and number, at last knocked at the door of a
+sombre-looking, ruinous old house, whose windows, broken or patched with
+paper, bespoke an air of poverty and destitution. A child in a ragged
+and neglected dress opened the door, and answering to the question “If
+Mr. Bicknell were there,” in the affirmative, led Linwood up stairs
+creaking as they went with rottenness and decay.
+
+“You 're to rap there, and he 'll come to you,” said the child, as
+they reached the landing, where two doors presented themselves; and so
+saying, she slipped noiselessly and stealthily down the stairs, leaving
+him alone in the gloomy lobby. Linwood was not without astonishment
+at the place in which he found himself; but there was no time for the
+indulgence of such a feeling, and he knocked, at first gently, and
+then, as no answer came, more loudly, and at last when several minutes
+elapsed, without any summons to enter, he tapped sharply at the panel
+with his cane. Still there was no reply; the deep silence of the old
+house seemed like that of a church at midnight; not a sound was heard
+to break it. There was a sense of dreariness and gloom over the ruinous
+spot and the fast-closing twilight that struck Linwood deeply; and it is
+probable, had the mission with which he was intrusted been one of less
+moment than his master seemed to think it, that Linwood would quietly
+have descended the stairs, and deferred his interview with Mr. Bicknell
+to a more suitable time and place. He had come, however, bent on
+fulfilling his charge; and so, after waiting what he believed to be
+half an hour, and which might possibly have been five or ten minutes, he
+applied his hand to the lock, and entered the room.
+
+It was a large, low-ceilinged apartment, whose moth-eaten furniture
+seemed to rival with the building itself, and which, though once not
+without some pretension to respectability, was now crumbling to decay,
+or coarsely mended by some rude hand. A door, not quite shut, led into
+an inner apartment; and from this room the sound of voices proceeded,
+whose conversation in all probability had prevented Linwood's summons
+from being heard.
+
+Whether the secret instincts of his calling were the prompter,--for
+Linwood was a valet,--or that the strange circumstances in which
+he found himself had suggested a spirit of curiosity, but Linwood
+approached the door and peeped in. The sin of eaves-dropping, like most
+other sins, would seem only difficult at the first step; the subsequent
+ones came easily, for, as the listener established himself in a position
+to hear what went forward, he speedily became interested in what he
+heard.
+
+By the gray half-light three figures were seen. One was a lady; so at
+least her position and attitude bespoke her, although her shawl was of
+a coarse and humble stuff, and her straw bonnet showed signs of time and
+season. She sat back in a deep leather chair, with hands folded, and her
+head slightly thrown forward, as if intently listening to the person
+who at a distance of half the room addressed lier. He was a thick-set,
+powerful man, in a jockey-cut coat and top-boots; a white hat, somewhat
+crushed and travel-stained, was at his feet, and across it a heavy
+horsewhip; his collar was confined by a single fold of a spotted
+handkerchief that thus displayed a brawny throat and a deep beard of
+curly black hair that made the head appear unnaturally large. The third
+figure was of a little, dapper, smart-looking personage, with a neatly
+powdered head and a scrupulously white cravat, who, standing partly
+behind the lady's chair, bestowed an equal attention on the speaker.
+
+The green-coated man, it was clear to see, was of an order in life far
+inferior to the others, and in the manner of his address, his attitude
+as he sat, and his whole bearing, exhibited a species of rude deference
+to the listeners.
+
+“Well, Jack,” cried the little man, in a sharp lively voice, “we knew
+all these facts before; what we were desirous of was something like
+proof,--something that might be brought out into open court and before a
+jury.”
+
+“I'm afraid then, sir,” replied the other, “I can't help you there. I
+told Mr. Daly all I knew and all I suspected, when I was up in Newgate;
+and if he had n't been in such a hurry that night to leave Dublin for
+the north, I could have brought him to the very house this fellow Garret
+was living in.”
+
+“Who is Garret?” broke in the lady, in a deep, full voice.
+
+“The late Mr. Gleeson's butler, ma'am,” said the little man; “a person
+we have never been able to come at. To summon him as a witness would
+avail us nothing; it is his private testimony that might be of such use
+to us.”
+
+“Well, you see, sir,” continued the green coat, or, as he was familiarly
+named by the other, Jack, whom, perhaps, our reader has already
+recognized as Freney, the others being Miss Daly and Bicknell,-“well,
+you see, sir, Mr. Daly was angry at the way things was done that
+night,--and sure enough he had good cause,-and sorra bit of a word he 'd
+speak to me when I was standing with the tears in my eyes to thank him;
+no, nor he wouldn't take the mare that was ready saddled and bridled in
+Healey's stables waiting for him, but he turned on his heel with 'D----n
+you for a common highwayman; it's what a man of blood and birth ever
+gets by stretching a hand to save you.'”
+
+“He should have thought of that before,” remarked Miss Daly, solemnly.
+
+“Faith, and if he did, ma'am, your humble servant would have had to
+dance upon nothing!” rejoined Freney, with a laugh that was very far
+from mirthful.
+
+“And what was the circumstance which gave Mr. Daly so much displeasure,
+Jack?” asked Bicknell. “I thought that everything went on exactly as he
+had planned it.”
+
+“Quite the contrary, sir; nothing was the way it ought to be. The fire
+was never thought of--”
+
+“Never thought of! Do you mean to say it was an accident?”
+
+“No, I don't, sir; I mean that all we wanted was to make believe that
+the jail was on fire, which was easy enough with burning straw; the rest
+was all planned safe and sure. And when we saw the real flames shooting
+up, sorra one was more frightened than some of ourselves; each accusing
+the other, cursing and shouting, and crying like mad! Ay, indeed! there
+was an ould fellow in for sheep-stealing, and nothing would convince him
+but that it was 'the devil took us at our word,' and sent his own fire
+for us. Not one of them was more puzzled than myself. I turned it every
+way in my mind, and could make nothing of it; for although I knew well
+that Mr. Daly would burn down Dublin from Barrack Street to the North
+Wall if he had a good reason for it, I knew also he 'd not do it out of
+mere devilment. Besides, ma'am, the way matters was going, it was
+likely none of us would escape. There was I--saving your presence--with
+eight-pound fetters on my legs. Ay, faix! I went down the ladder with
+them afterwards.”
+
+“But the fire.”
+
+“I 'm coming to it, sir. I was sitting this way, with my chin on my
+hands, at the window of my cell, trying to get a taste of fresh air, for
+the place was thick of smoke, when I seen the flames darting out of
+the windows of a public-house at the corner, the sign of the 'Cracked
+Padlock,' and at the same minute out came the fire through the roof, a
+great red spike of flame higher than the chimney. 'That's no accident,'
+says I to myself, 'whatever them that's doing it means;' and sure
+enough, the blaze broke out in the other corner of the street just as
+I said the words. Well, ma'am, of all the terrible yells and cries that
+was ever heard, the prisoners set up then; for though there was eight
+lying for execution on Saturday, and twice as many more very sure of the
+same end after the sessions, none of us liked to face such a dreadful
+thing as fire. Just then, ma'am, at that very minute, there came, as
+it might be, under my window, a screech so loud and so piercing that
+it went above all the other cries, just the way the yellow fire darted
+through the middle of the thick lazy smoke. Sorra one could give such a
+screech but a throat I knew well, and so I called out at the top of my
+voice, 'Ah, ye limb of the devil, this is your work!' and as sure as
+I 'm here, there came a laugh in my ears; and whether it was the devil
+himself gave it or Jemmy, I often doubted since.”
+
+“And who is Jemmy?” asked Bicknell.
+
+“A bit of a 'gossoon' I had to mind the horses, and meet me with a beast
+here and there, as I wanted. The greatest villain for wickedness that
+was ever pinioned!”
+
+“And so he was really the cause of the fire?”
+
+“Ay, was he! He not only hid the tinder and chips--”
+
+Just as Freney had got thus far, he drew his legs up close beneath him,
+sunk down his head as if into his neck, and with a spring, such as a
+tiger might have given, cleared the space between himself and the door,
+and rolled over on the floor, with the trembling figure of Linwood
+under him. So terribly sudden was the leap, that Miss Daly and Bicknell
+scarcely saw the bound ere they beheld him with one hand upon the
+victim's throat, while with the other he drew forth a clasp-knife, and
+opened the blade with his teeth.
+
+“Keep back, keep back!” said Freney, as Bicknell drew nigh; and the
+words came thick and guttural, like the deep growl of a mastiff.
+
+“Who are you, and what brings you here?” said Freney, as, setting his
+knee on the other's chest, he relinquished the grasp by which he had
+almost choked him.
+
+[Illustration: 382]
+
+“I came to see Mr. Bicknell,” muttered the nearly lifeless valet.
+
+“What did you want with me?”
+
+“Wait a bit,” interposed Freney. “Who brought you here? How came you to
+be standing by that door?”
+
+“Mr. Bicknell's servant showed me the house, and a child brought me to
+this room.”
+
+“There, sir,” said Freney, turning his head towards
+
+Bicknell, without releasing the strong pressure by which he pinned the
+other down,--“there, sir, so much for your caution. You told me if I
+came to this lady's lodgings here, that I was safe, and now here 's this
+fellow has heard us and everything we 've said, maybe these two hours.”
+
+“I only heard about Newgate,” muttered the miserable Linwood; “I was but
+a few minutes at the door, and was going to knock. I came from Lord Wall
+incourt with papers of great importance for Mr. Bicknell. I have them,
+if you'll let me--”
+
+“Let him get up,” said Miss Daly, calmly.
+
+Freney stood back, and retired between his victim and the door, where he
+stood, with folded arms and bent brows, watching him.
+
+“He has almost broke in my ribs,” said Linwood, as he pressed his hands
+to his side, with a grimace of true suffering.
+
+“So much for eaves-dropping. You need expect no pity from me,” said Miss
+Daly, sternly. “Where are these papers?”
+
+“My Lord told me,” said the man, as he took them from his breast,
+“that I was to give them into Mr. Bicknell's own hands, with strictest
+directions to have them forwarded at the instant But for that,” added
+he, whining, “I had never come to this.”
+
+“Let it be a lesson to you about listening, sir,” said Miss Daly. “Had
+my brother been here--”
+
+“Oh, by the powers!” broke in Freney, “he 'd have pitched you neck
+and crop into the water-hogshead below, if your master was the
+Lord-Lieutenant.”
+
+By this time Bicknell was busy reading the several addresses on the
+packets, and the names inscribed in the corners of each.
+
+“If I 'm not mistaken, madam,” said he to Miss Daly, “this Lord
+Wallincourt is the new peer, whose brother died at Lisbon. The name is
+Forester.”
+
+“Yes, sir, you are right,” muttered Linwood.
+
+“The same Mr. Richard Forester my brother knew, the cousin of Lord
+Castlereagh?”
+
+“Yes, ma'am,” said Linwood.
+
+“Where is he? Is he here?”
+
+“No, ma'am, he's lying dangerously ill, if he be yet alive, at Bangor.
+He wanted to bring these papers over himself, but was only able to get
+so far when the fever came on him again.”
+
+“Is he alone?”
+
+“Quite alone, ma'am, no one knows even his name. He would not let me
+say who he was.”
+
+Miss Daly turned towards Bicknell, and spoke for several minutes in a
+quick and eager voice. Meanwhile Freney, now convinced that he had not
+to deal with a spy or a thief-catcher, came near and addressed Linwood.
+
+“I did n't mean to hurt ye till I was sure ye deserved it, but never
+play that game any more.”
+
+Linwood appeared to receive both apology and precept with equal
+discontent.
+
+“Another thing,” resumed Freney: “I 'm sure you are an agreeable young
+man in the housekeeper's room and the butler's parlor, very pleasant
+and conversable, with a great deal of anecdote and amusing stories;
+but, mind me, let nothing tempt ye to talk about what ye heard me
+say tonight. It's not that I care about myself,--it's worse than
+jail-breaking they can tell of me,--but I won't have another name
+mentioned. D 'ye mind me?”
+
+As if to enforce the caution, he seized the listener between his finger
+and thumb; and whether there was something magnetic in the touch, or
+that it somehow conveyed a foretaste of what disobedience might cost,
+but Linwood winced till the tears came, and stammered out,--
+
+“You may depend on it, sir, I 'll never mention it.”
+
+“I believe you,” said the robber, with a grin, and fell back to his
+place.
+
+“I will not lose a post, rely upon it, madam,” said Bick-nell; “and am I
+to suppose you have determined on this journey?”
+
+“Yes,” said Miss Daly, “the case admits of little hesitation; the young
+man is alone, friendless, and unknown. I 'll hasten over at once,--I am
+too old for slander, Mr. Bicknell. Besides, let me see who will dare to
+utter it.”
+
+There was a sternness in her features as she spoke that made her
+seem the actual image of her brother. Then, turning to Linwood, she
+continued,--
+
+“I 'll go over this evening to Bangor in the packet, let me find you
+there.”
+
+“I 'll see him safe on board, ma'am,” said Freney, with a leer, while,
+slipping his arm within the valet's, he half led, half drew him from the
+room.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXII. A LESSON IN POLITICS
+
+In the deep bay-window of a long, gloomy-looking dinner-room of a Dublin
+mansion, sat a party of four persons around a table plentifully covered
+with decanters and bottles, and some stray remnants of a dessert which
+seemed to have been taken from the great table in the middle of the
+apartment. The night was falling fast, for it was past eight o'clock of
+an evening in autumn, and there was barely sufficient light to descry
+the few scrubby-looking ash and alder trees that studded the barren
+grass-plot between the house and the stables. There was nothing to cheer
+in the aspect without, nor, if one were to judge from the long pauses
+that ensued after each effort at conversation, the few and monotonous
+words of the speakers, were there any evidences of a more enlivening
+spirit within doors. The party consisted of Dr. Hickman and his son Mr.
+O'Reilly, Mr. Heffernan, and “Counsellor” O'Halloran.
+
+At first, and by the dusky light in the chamber, it would seem as if
+but three persons were assembled; for the old doctor, whose debility had
+within the last few months made rapid strides, had sunk down into the
+recess of the deep chair, and save by a low quavering respiration, gave
+no token of his presence. As these sounds became louder and fuller,
+the conversation gradually dropped into a whisper, for the old man was
+asleep. In the subdued tone of the speakers, the noiseless gestures as
+they passed the bottle from hand to hand, it was easy to mark that
+they did not wish to disturb his slumbers. It is no part of our task
+to detail how these individuals came to be thus associated. The assumed
+object which at this moment drew them together was the approaching trial
+at Galway of a record brought against the Hickmans by Darcy. It was
+Bick-nell's last effort, and with it must end the long and wearisome
+litigation between the houses.
+
+The case for trial had nothing which could suggest any fears as to the
+result. It was on a motion for a new trial that the cause was to come
+on. The plea was misdirection and want of time, so that, in itself, the
+matter was one of secondary importance. The great question was that a
+general election now drew nigh, and it was necessary for O'Reilly to
+determine on the line of political conduct he should adopt, and thus
+give O'Halloran the opportunity of a declaration of his client's
+sentiments in his address to the jury.
+
+The conduct of the Hickmans since their accession to the estate of
+Gwynne Abbey had given universal dissatisfaction to the county gentry.
+Playing at first the game of popularity, they assembled at their
+parties people of every class and condition; and while affronting the
+better-bred by low association, dissatisfied the inferior order by
+contact with those who made their inferiority more glaring. The
+ancient hospitalities of the Abbey were remembered in contrast with the
+ostentatious splendor of receptions in which display and not kindness
+was intended. Vulgar presumption and purse-pride had usurped the place
+once occupied by easy good breeding and cordiality; and even they who
+had often smarted under the cold reserve of Lady Eleanor's manner, were
+now ready to confess that she was born to the rank she assumed, and
+not an upstart, affecting airs of superiority. The higher order of the
+county gentry accordingly held aloof, and at last discontinued their
+visits altogether; of the second-rate many who were flattered at first
+by invitations, became dissatisfied at seeing the same favors extended
+to others below them, and they, too, ceased to present themselves,
+until, at last, the society consisted of a few sycophantic followers,
+who swallowed the impertinence of the host with the aid of his claret,
+and buried their own self-respect, if they were troubled with such a
+quality, under the weight of good dinners.
+
+Hickman O'Reilly for a length of time affected not to mark the change
+in the rank and condition of his guests, but as one by one the more
+respectable fell off, and the few left were of a station that the fine
+servants of the house regarded as little above their own, he indignantly
+declined to admit any company in future, reduced the establishment to
+the few merely necessary for the modest requirements of the family,
+and gave it to be known that the uncongenial tastes and habits of his
+neighbors made him prefer isolation and solitude to such association.
+
+For some time he had looked to England as the means of establishing for
+himself and his son a social position. The refusal of the minister to
+accord the baronetcy was a death-blow to this hope, while he discovered
+that mere wealth, unassisted by the sponsorship of some one in repute,
+could not suffice to introduce Beeeham into the world of fashion.
+Although these things had preyed on him severely, there was no urgent
+necessity to act in respect of them till the time came, as it now had
+done, for a general election.
+
+The strict retirement of his life must now give way before the
+requirements of an election candidate, and he must consent to take
+the field once more as a public man, or, by abandoning his seat in
+Parliament, accept a condition of what he knew to be complete obscurity.
+The old doctor was indeed favorable to the latter course,--the passion
+for hoarding had gone on increasing with age. Money was, in his
+estimation, the only species of power above the changes and caprice of
+the world. Bank-notes were the only things he never knew to deceive; and
+he took an almost fiendish delight in contrasting the success of his own
+penurious practices with all the disappointments his son O'Reilly had
+experienced in his attempts at what he called “high life.” Every
+slight shown him, each new instance of coldness or aversion of the
+neighborhood, gave the old man a diabolical pleasure, and seemed to
+revive his youth in the exercise of a malignant spirit.
+
+O'Reilly's only hope of reconciling his father to the cost of a new
+election was in the prospect held out that the seat might at last be
+secured in perpetuity for Beeeham, and the chance of a rich marriage in
+England thus provided. Even this view he was compelled to sustain by
+the assurance that the expense would be a mere trifle, and that,
+by the adoption of popular principles, he should come in almost for
+nothing. To make the old doctor a convert to these notions, he had
+called in Heffernau and O'Halloran, who both, during the dinner, had
+exerted themselves with their natural tact, and now that the doctor had
+dropped asleep, were reposing themselves, and recruiting the energies so
+generously expended.
+
+Hence the party seemed to have a certain gloom and weight over it,
+as the shadow of coming night fell on the figures seated, almost in
+silence, around the table. None spoke save an occasional word or two, as
+they passed round the bottle. Each retreated into his own reflections,
+and communed with himself. Men who have exhibited themselves to each
+other, in a game of deceit and trick, seem to have a natural repugnance
+to any recurrence to the theme when the occasion is once over. Even they
+whose hearts have the least self-respect will avoid the topic if
+possible.
+
+“How is the bottle?--with you, I believe,” said O'Reilly to Heffernan,
+in the low tone to which they had all reduced the conversation.
+
+“I have just filled my glass; it stands with the Counsellor.”
+
+O'Halloran poured out the wine and sipped it slowly. “A very remarkable
+man,” said he, sententiously, with a slight gesture of his head to the
+chair where the old doctor lay coiled up asleep. “His faculties seem as
+clear, and his judgment as acute, as if he were only five-and-forty, and
+I suppose he must be nearly twice that age.”
+
+“Very nearly,” replied O'Reilly; “he confesses commonly to eighty-six;
+but when he is weak or querulous, he often says ninety-one or two.”
+
+“His memory is the most singular thing about him,” said Heffernan. “Now,
+the account of Swift's appearance in the pulpit with his gown thrust
+back, and his hands stuck in the belt of his cassock, brow-beating the
+lord mayor and aldermen for coming in late to church,--it came as fresh
+as if he were talking of an event of last week.”
+
+“How good the imitation of voice was, too,” added Heffernan: “'Giving
+two hours to your dress, and twenty minutes to your devotions, you come
+into God's house looking more like mountebanks than Christian men!'”
+
+“I 've seldom seen him so much inclined to talk and chat away as this
+evening,” said O'Reilly; “but I think you chimed in so well with his
+humor, it drew him on.”
+
+“There was something of dexterity,” said Heffernan, “in the way he kept
+bringing up these reminiscences and old stories, to avoid entering
+upon the subject of the election. I saw that he would n't approach that
+theme, no matter how skilfully you brought it forward.”
+
+“You ought not to have alluded to the Darcys, however,” said O'Halloran.
+“I remarked that the mention of their name gave him evident displeasure;
+indeed, he soon after pushed his chair back from the table and became
+silent.”
+
+“He always sleeps after dinner,” observed O'Reilly, carelessly. “It was
+about his usual time.”
+
+Another pause now succeeded, in which the only sounds heard were the
+deep-drawn breathings of the sleeper.
+
+“You saw Lord Castlereagh, I think you told me?” said O'Reilly, anxious
+to lead Heffernan into something like a declaration of opinion.
+
+“Oh, repeatedly; I dined either with him or in his company, three or
+four times every week of my stay in town.”
+
+“Well, is he satisfied with the success of his measure?” asked
+O'Halloran, caustically. “Is this Union working to his heart's content?”
+
+“It is rather early to pass a judgment on that point, I think.”
+
+“I'm not of that mind,” rejoined O'Halloran, hastily. “The fruits of the
+measure are showing themselves already. The men of fortune are flying
+the country; their town houses are to let; their horses are advertised
+for sale at Dycer's. Dublin is, even now, beginning to feel what it may
+become when the population has no other support than itself.”
+
+“Such will always be the fortune of a province. Influence will and must
+converge to the capital,” rejoined Heffernan.
+
+“But what if the great element of a province be wanting? What if we have
+not that inherent respect and reverence for the metropolis provincials
+always should feel? What if we know that our interests are
+misunderstood, our real wants unknown, our peculiar circumstances either
+undervalued or despised?”
+
+“If the case be as you represent it---”
+
+“Can you deny it? Tell me that.”
+
+“I will not deny or admit it. I only say, if it be such, there is still
+a remedy, if men are shrewd enough to adopt it.”
+
+“And what may that remedy be?” said O'Reilly, calmly.
+
+“An Irish party!”
+
+“Oh, the old story; the same plot over again we had this year at the
+Rotunda?” said O'Reilly, contemptuously.
+
+“Which only failed from our own faults,” added Heffer-nan, angrily.
+“Some of us were lukewarm and would do nothing; some waited for others
+to come forward; and some again wanted to make their hard bargain with
+the minister before they made him feel the necessity of the compact.”
+
+O'Reilly bit his lip in silence, for he well understood at whom this
+reproof was levelled.
+
+“The cause of failure was very different,” said O'Hallo-ran,
+authoritatively. “It was one which has dissolved many an association,
+and rendered many a scheme abortive, and will continue to do so, as
+often as it occurs. You failed for want of a 'Principle.' You had rank
+and wealth, and influence more than enough to have made your weight
+felt and acknowledged, but you had no definite object or end. You were a
+party, and you had not a purpose.”
+
+“Come, come,” said Heffernan, “you are evidently unaware of the nature
+of our association, and seem not to have read the resolutions we
+adopted.”
+
+“No,---on the contrary, I read them carefully; there was more than
+sufficient in them to have made a dozen parties. Had you adopted one
+steadfast line of action, set out with one brief intelligible
+proposition,--I care not what,--Slave Emancipation, or Catholic
+Emancipation, Repeal of Tests Acts, or Parliamentary Reform, any of
+them,--taken your stand on that, and that alone, you must have
+succeeded. Of course, to do this is a work of time and labor; some men
+will grow weary and sink by the way, but others take up the burden, and
+the goal is reached at last There must be years long of writing and
+speaking, meeting, declaring, and plotting; you must consent to be
+thought vulgar and low-minded,--ay, and to become so, for active
+partisans are only to be found in low places. You will be laughed at and
+jeered, abused, mocked, and derided at first; later on, you will be
+assailed more powerfully and more coarsely; but, all this while, your
+strength is developing, your agencies are spreading. Persuasion will
+induce some, notoriety others, hopes of advantage many more, to join
+you. You will then have a press as well as a party, and the very men
+that sneered at your beginnings will have to respect the persistence and
+duration of your efforts. I don't care how trumpery the arguments used;
+I don't value one straw the fallacy of the statements put forward. Let
+one great question, one great demand for anything, be made for some
+five-and-twenty or thirty years,--let the Press discuss, and the
+Parliament debate it,--you are sure of its being accorded in the end.
+Now, it will be a party ambitious of power that will buy your alliance
+at any price; now, a tottering Government anxious to survive the session
+and reach the snug harbor of the long vacation. Now, it will be the high
+'bid' of a popular administration; now, it will be the last hope of
+second-rate capacities, ready to supply their own deficiencies by
+incurring a hazard. However it come, you are equally certain of it.”
+
+There was a pause as O'Halloran concluded. Heffernan saw plainly to what
+the Counsellor pointed, and that he was endeavoring to recruit for that
+party of which he destined the future leadership for himself, and
+Con had no fancy to serve in the ranks of such an army. O'Reilly, who
+thought that the profession of a popular creed might be serviceable in
+the emergency of an election, looked with more favor on the exposition,
+and after a brief interval said,--
+
+“Well, supposing I were to see this matter in your light, what support
+could you promise me? I mean at the hustings.”
+
+“Most of the small freeholders, now,-all of them, in time; the priests
+to a man, the best election agents that ever canvassed a constituency.
+By degrees the forces will grow stronger, according to the length and
+breadth of the principle you adopt,--make it emancipation, and I 'll
+insure you a lease of the county.” Heffernan smiled dubiously. “Ah,
+never mind Mr. Heffernan's look; these notions don't suit him. He 's
+one of the petty traders in politics, who like small sales and quick
+returns.”
+
+“Such dealing makes fewest bankrupts,” said Heffernan, coolly.
+
+“I own to you,” said O'Halloran, “the rewards are distant, but they 're
+worth waiting for. It is not the miserable bribe of a situation, or a
+title, both beneath what they would accord to some state apothecary; but
+power, actual power, and real patronage are in the vista.”
+
+A heavy sigh and a rustling sound in the deep armchair announced that
+the doctor was awaking, and after a few struggles to throw off the
+drowsy influence, he sat upright, and made a gesture that he wished for
+wine.
+
+“We 've been talking about political matters, sir,” said O'Reilly. “I
+hope we didn't disturb your doze?”
+
+“No; I was sleeping sound,” croaked the old man, in a feeble whine, “and
+I had a very singular dream! I dreamed I was sitting in a great kitchen
+of a big house, and there was a very large, hairy turnspit sitting
+opposite to me, in a nook beside the fire, turning a big spit with a
+joint of meat on it. 'Who's the meat for?' says I to him. 'For my Lord
+Castlereagh,' says he, 'devil a one else.' 'For himself alone?' says I.
+'Just so,' says he; 'don't you know that's the Irish Parliament that we
+'re roasting and basting, and when it's done,' says he, 'we 'll sarve
+it up to be carved.' 'And who are you?' says I to the turnspit. 'I'm Con
+Heffernan,' says he; 'and the devil a bit of the same meat I 'm to get,
+after cooking it till my teeth 's watering.'”
+
+A loud roar of laughter from O'Halloran, in which Heffernan endeavored
+to take a part, met this strange revelation of the doctor's sleep, nor
+was it for a considerable time after that the conversation could be
+resumed without some jesting allusion of the Counsellor to the turnspit
+and his office.
+
+“Your dream tallies but ill, sir, with the rumors through Dublin,” said
+O'Reilly, whose quick glance saw through the mask of indifference by
+which Heffernan concealed his irritation.
+
+“I did n't hear it. What was it, Bob?”
+
+“That the ministry had offered our friend here the secretaryship for
+Ireland.”
+
+“Sure, if they did--” He was about to add, “That he 'd have as certainly
+accepted it,” when a sense of the impropriety of such a speech arrested
+the words.
+
+“You are mistaken, sir,” interposed Heffernan, answering the unspoken
+sentence. “I did refuse. The conditions on which I accorded my humble
+support to the bill of the Union have been shamefully violated, and I
+could not, if I even wished it, accept office from a Government that
+have been false to their pledges.”
+
+“You see my dream was right, after all,” chuckled the old man. “I said
+they kept him working away in the kitchen, and gave him none of the meat
+afterwards.”
+
+“What if I had been stipulating for another, sir?” said Heffernan, with
+a forced smile. “What if the breach of faith I allude to had reference
+not to me, but to your son yonder, for whom, and no other, I asked--I
+will not say a favor, but a fair and reasonable acknowledgment of the
+station he occupies?”
+
+“Ah, that weary title!” exclaimed the doctor, crankily. “What have we to
+do with these things?”
+
+“You are right, sir,” chimed in O'Halloran. “Your present position,
+self-acquired and independent, is a far prouder one than any to be
+obtained by ministerial favor.”
+
+“I 'd rather he'd help us to crush these Darcys,” said the old man, as
+his eyes sparkled and glistened like the orbs of a serpent. “I 'd rather
+my Lord Castlereagh would put his heel upon _them_ than stretch out the
+hand to _us_.”
+
+“What need to trouble your head about them?” said Heffernan,
+conciliatingly; “they are low enough in all conscience now.”
+
+“My father means,” said O'Reilly, “that he is tired and sick of the
+incessant appeals to law this family persist in following; that these
+trials irritate and annoy him.”
+
+“Come sir,” cried O'Halloran, encouragingly, “you shall see the last of
+them in a few weeks. I have reason to know that an old maiden sister
+of Bagenal Daly's has supplied Bicknell with the means of the present
+action. It's the last shot in the locker. We 'll take care to make the
+gun recoil on the hand that fires it.”
+
+“Darcy and Daly are both out of the country,” observed the old man,
+cunningly.
+
+“We 'll call them up for judgment, however,” chimed in O'Halloran. “That
+same Daly is one of those men who infested our country in times
+past, and by the mere recklessness of their hold on life, bullied and
+oppressed all who came before them. I am rejoiced to have an opportunity
+of showing up such a character.”
+
+“I wish we had done with them all,” sighed the doctor.
+
+“So you shall, with this record. Will you pledge yourself not to object
+to the election expenses if I gain you the verdict?”
+
+“Come, that's a fair offer,” said Heffernan, laughing.
+
+“Maybe, they 'll come to ten thousand,” said the doctor, cautiously.
+
+“Not above one half the sum, if Mr. O'Reilly will consent to take my
+advice.”
+
+“And why wouldn't he?” rejoined the old man, querulously. “What
+signifies which side he takes, if it saves the money?”
+
+“Is it a bargain, then?”
+
+“Will you secure me against more trials at law? Will you pledge yourself
+that I am not to be tormented by these anxieties and cares?”
+
+“I can scarcely promise that much; but I feel so assured that your
+annoyance will end here, that I am willing to pledge myself to give you
+my own services without fee or reward in future, if any action follow
+this one.”
+
+“I think that is most generous,” said Heffernan.
+
+“It is as much as saying, he 'll enter into recognizances for an
+indefinite series of five-hundred-pound briefs,” added O'Reilly.
+
+“Done, then. I take you at your word,” said the doctor; while stretching
+forth his lean and trembling hand, he grasped the nervous fingers of the
+Counsellor in token of ratification.
+
+“And now woe to the Darcys!” muttered O'Halloran, as he arose to say
+good-night, Heffernan arose at the same time, resolved to accompany
+the Counsellor, and try what gentle persuasion could effect in
+the modification of views which he saw were far too explicit to be
+profitable.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXIII. THE CHANCES OF TRAVEL.
+
+Neither our space nor our inclination prompt us to dwell on Forester's
+illness; enough when we say that his recovery, slow at first, made at
+length good progress, and within a month after the commencement of the
+attack, he was once more on the road, bent on reaching the North, and
+presenting himself before Lady Eleanor and her daughter.
+
+Miss Daly, who had been his kind and watchful nurse for many days and
+nights ere his wandering faculties could recognize her, contributed more
+than all else to his restoration. The impatient anxiety under which he
+suffered was met by her mild but steady counsels; and although she never
+ventured to bid him hope too sanguinely, she told him that his letter
+had reached Helen's hand, and that he himself must plead the cause he
+had opened.
+
+“Your greatest difficulty,” said she, in parting with him in Dublin,
+“will be in the very circumstance which, in ordinary cases, would be
+the guarantee of your success. Your own rise in fortune has widened the
+interval between you. This, to your mind, presents but the natural means
+of overcoming the obstacles I allude to; but remember there are others
+whose feelings are to be as intimately consulted,--nay, more so than
+your own. Think of those who never yet made an alliance without feeling
+that they were on a footing of perfect equality; and reflect that even
+if Helen's affections were all your own, Maurice Darcy's daughter can
+enter into no family, however high and proud it may be, save as the
+desired and sought-for by its chief members. Build upon anything lower
+than this, and you fail. More still,” added she, almost sternly, “your
+failure will meet with no compassion from me. Think not, because I
+have gone through life a lone, uncared-for thing, that I undervalue the
+strength and power of deep affection, or that I could counsel you to
+make it subservient to views of worldliness and advantage. You know
+me little if you think so. But I would tell you this, that no love
+deserving of the name ever existed without those high promptings of
+the heart that made all difficulties easy to encounter,--ay, even those
+worst of difficulties that spring from false pride and prejudice. It
+is by no sudden outbreak of temper, no selfish threat of this or that
+insensate folly, that your lady-mother's consent should be obtained.
+It is by the manly dignity and consistency of a character that in the
+highest interests of a higher station give a security for sound judgment
+and honorable motives. Let it appear from your conduct that you are not
+swayed by passion or caprice. You have already won men's admiration for
+the gallantry of your daring. There is something better still than this,
+the esteem and regard that are never withheld from a course of honorable
+and independent action. With these on your side, rely upon it, a
+mother's heart will not be the last in England to acknowledge and glory
+in your fame. And now, good-bye; you have a better travelling-companion
+than me,-you have hope with you.”
+
+She returned the cordial pressure of his hand, and was turning away,
+when, after what had seemed a kind of struggle with her feelings, she
+added,--
+
+“One word more, even at the hazard of wearying you. Above all and
+everything, be honest, be candid; not only with others, but with
+yourself! Examine well your heart, and let no sense of false shame, let
+no hopes of some chance or accident deceive you, by which your innermost
+feelings are to be guessed at, and not avowed. This is the blackest of
+calamities; this can even embitter every hour of a long life.”
+
+Her voice trembled at the last words; and as she concluded, she wrung
+his hand once more affectionately, and moved hurriedly away. Forester
+looked after her with a tender interest. For the first time in his life
+he heard her sob. “Yes,” thought he, as he lay back and covered his eyes
+with his hand, “she, too, has loved, and loved unhappily.”
+
+There are few sympathies stronger, not even those of illness itself,
+than connect those whose hearts have struggled under unrequited
+affection; and so, for many an hour as he travelled, Forester's thoughts
+recurred to Miss Daly, and the last troubled accents of her parting
+speech. Perhaps he did not dwell the less on that theme because it
+carried him away from his own immediate hopes and fears,--emotions that
+rendered him almost irritable by their intensity.
+
+While on the road, Forester travelled with all the speed he could
+accomplish. His weakness did not permit of his being many hours in a
+carriage, and he endeavored to compensate for this by rapid travelling
+at the time. His impatience to get forward was, however, such that he
+scarcely arrived at any halting-place without ordering horses to be at
+once got ready, so that, when able, he resumed the road without losing a
+moment.
+
+In compliance with this custom, the carriage was standing all ready
+with its four posters at the door of the inn of Castle Blayney; while
+Forester, overcome by fatigue and exhaustion, had thrown himself on
+the bed and fallen asleep. The rattling crash of a mail-coach and its
+deep-toned horn suddenly awoke him: he started, and looked at his watch.
+Was it possible? It was nearly midnight; he must have slept more than
+three hours! Half gratified by the unaccustomed rest, half angry at
+the lapse of time, he arose to depart. The night was the reverse of
+inviting; a long-threatened storm had at last burst forth, and the rain
+was falling in torrents, while the wind, in short and fitful gusts,
+shook the house to its foundation, and scattered tiles and slates over
+the dreary street.
+
+So terrible was the hurricane, many doubts were entertained that the
+mail could proceed further; and when it did at length set forth, gloomy
+prognostics of danger--dark pictures of precipices, swollen torrents,
+and broken bridges--were rife in the bar and the landlord's room. These
+arguments, if they could be so called, were all renewed when Forester
+called for his bill, as a preparation to depart, and all the perils that
+ever happened by land or by water recapitulated to deter him.
+
+“The middle arch of the Slaney bridge was tottering when the up-mail
+passed three hours before. A horse and cart were just fished out of
+Mooney's pond, but no driver as yet discovered. The forge at the cross
+roads was blown down, and the rafters were lying across the highway.”
+ These, and a dozen other like calamities, were bandied about, and
+pitched like shuttlecocks from side to side, as the impatient traveller
+descended the stairs.
+
+Had Forester cared for the amount of the reckoning, which he did not, he
+might have entertained grave fears of its total, on the principle well
+known to travellers, that the speed of its coming is always in the
+inverse ratio of the sum, and that every second's delay is sure to swell
+its proportions. Of this he never thought once; but he often reflected
+on the tardiness of waiters, and the lingering tediousness of the
+moments of parting.
+
+“It's coming, sir; he 's just adding it up,” said the head waiter, for
+the sixth time within three minutes, while he moved to and fro, with the
+official alacrity that counterfeits despatch. “I 'm afraid you 'll have
+a bad night, sir. I 'm sure the horses won't be able to face the storm
+over Grange Connel.”
+
+Forester made no reply, but walked up and down the hall in moody
+silence.
+
+“The gentleman that got off the mail thought so too,” added the waiter;
+“and now he 's pleasanter at his supper, iu the coffee-room, than
+sitting out there, next to the guard, wet to the skin, and shivering
+with cold.”
+
+Less to inspect the stranger thus alluded to than to escape the
+impertinent loquacity of the waiter, Forester turned the handle of
+the door, and entered the coffee-room. It was a large, dingy-looking
+chamber, whose only bright spot seemed within the glow of a blazing
+turf-fire, where at a little table a gentleman was seated at supper. His
+back was turned to Forester; but even in the cursory glance the latter
+gave, he could perceive that he was an elderly personage, and one who
+had not abandoned the almost bygone custom of a queue.
+
+The stranger, dividing his time between his meal and a newspaper,--which
+he devoured more eagerly than the viands before him,--paid no attention
+to Forester's entrance; nor did he once look round. As the waiter
+approached, he asked hastily, “What chance there was of getting
+forward?”
+
+“Indeed, sir, to tell the truth,” drawled out the man, “the storm seems
+getting worse, instead of better. Miles Finerty's new house, at the end
+of the street, is just blown down.”
+
+“Never mind Miles Finerty, my good friend, for the present,” rejoined
+the old gentleman, mildly, “but just tell me, are horses to be had?”
+
+“Faith! and to tell your honor no lie, I 'm afraid of it.” Here he
+dropped to a whisper. “The sick-looking gentleman, yonder, has four
+waiting for him, since nine o'clock; and we 've only a lame mare and a
+pony in the stable.”
+
+“Am I never to get this bill?” cried out Forester, in a tone that
+illness had rendered peculiarly querulous. “I have asked, begged for it,
+for above an hour, and here I am still.”
+
+“He's bringing it now, sir,” cried the waiter, stepping hastily out of
+the room, to avoid further questioning. Forester, whose impatience had
+now been carried beyond endurance, paced the room with hurried strides,
+muttering, between his teeth, every possible malediction on the whole
+race of innkeepers, barmaids, waiters,--even down to Boots himself.
+These imprecating expressions had gradually assumed a louder and
+more vehement tone, of which he was by no means aware, till the old
+gentleman, at the pause of a somewhat wordy denunciation, gravely
+added,--
+
+“Insert a clause upon postboys, sir, and I 'll second the measure.”
+
+Forester wheeled abruptly round. He belonged to a class, a section of
+society, whose cherished prestige is neither to address nor be addressed
+by an unintroduced stranger; and had the speaker been younger, or of any
+age more nearly his own, it is more than likely a very vague stare of
+cool astonishment would have been his only acknowledgment of the speech.
+The advanced age, and something in the very accent of the stranger,
+were, however, guarantees against this conventional rudeness, and he
+remarked, with a smile, “I have no objection to extend the provisions
+of my bill in the way you propose, for perhaps half an hour's experience
+may teach me how much they deserve it.”
+
+“You are fortunate, however, to have secured horses. I perceive that the
+stables are empty.”
+
+“If you are pressed for time, sir,” said Forester, on whom the quiet,
+well-bred manners of the stranger produced a strong impression, “it
+would be a very churlish thing of me to travel with four horses while I
+can spare a pair of them.”
+
+“I am really very grateful,” said the old gentleman, rising, and bowing
+courteously; “if this be not a great inconvenience--”
+
+“By no means; and if it were,” rejoined Forester, “I have a debt to
+acquit to my own heart on this subject. I remember once, when travelling
+down to the west of Ireland, I reached a little miserable country town
+at nightfall, and, just as here, save that then there was no storm--”
+ The entrance of the long-expected landlord, with his bill, here
+interrupted Forester's story. As he took it, and thus afforded time for
+the stranger to fix his eyes steadfastly upon him, unobserved, Forester
+quickly resumed: “I was remarking that, just as here, there were only
+four post-horses to be had, and that they had just been secured by
+another traveller a few moments before my arrival. I forget the name of
+the place--”
+
+“Perhaps I can assist you,” said the other, calmly. “It was Kilbeggan.”
+
+Had a miracle been performed before his eyes, Forester could not have
+been more stunned; and stunned he really was, and unable to speak for
+some seconds. At length, his surprise yielding to a vague glimmering of
+belief, he called out, “Great heavens! it cannot be--it surely is not--”
+
+“Maurice Darcy, you would say, sir,” said the Knight, advancing with an
+offered hand. “As surely as I believe you to be my son Lionel's brother
+officer and friend, Captain Forester.”
+
+“Oh, Colonel Darcy! this is, indeed, happiness,” exclaimed the young
+man, as he grasped the Knight's hand in both of his, and shook it
+affectionately.
+
+“What a strange rencontre,” said the Knight, laughing; “quite the
+incident of a comedy! One would scarcely look for such meetings
+twice,--so like in every respect. Our parts are changed, however; it is
+your turn to be generous, if the generosity trench not too closely on
+your convenience.”
+
+Forester could but stammer out assurances of delight and pleasure, and
+so on, for his heart was too full to speak calmly or collectedly.
+
+“And Lionel, sir, how is he,-when have you heard from him?” said the
+young man, anxious, by even the most remote path, to speak of the
+Knight's family.
+
+“In excellent health. The boy has had the good fortune to be employed
+in a healthy station, and, from a letter which I found awaiting me at my
+army agent's, is as happy as can be. But to recur to our theme: will you
+forgive my selfishness if I say that you will add indescribably to the
+favor if you permit me to take these horses at once? I have not seen my
+family for some time back, and my impatience is too strong to yield to
+ceremony.”
+
+“Of course,--certainly; my carriage is, however, all ready, and at the
+door. Take it as it is, you 'll travel faster and safer.”
+
+“But you yourself,” said Darcy, laughing,--“you were about to move
+forward when we met.”
+
+“It's no matter; I was merely travelling for the sake of change,” said
+Forester, confusedly.
+
+“I could not think of such a thing,” said Darcy. “If our way led
+together, and you would accept of me as a travelling companion, I
+should be but too happy; but to take the long-boat, and leave you on
+the desolate rock, is not to be thought of.” The Knight stopped; and
+although he made an effort to continue, the words faltered on his lips,
+and he was silent. At last, and with an exertion that brought a deep
+blush to his cheek, he said: “I am really ashamed, Captain Forester, to
+acknowledge a weakness which is as new to me as it is unmanly. The best
+amends I can make for feeling is to confess it. Since we met that same
+night, circumstances of fortune have considerably changed with me. I am
+not, as you then knew me, the owner of a good house and a good estate.
+Now, I really would wish to have been able to ask you to come and see
+me; but, in good truth, I cannot tell where or how I should lodge you
+if you said 'yes.' I believe my wife has a cabin on this northern shore,
+but, however it may accommodate us, I need not say I could not ask a
+friend to put up with it. There is my confession; and now that it is
+told, I am only ashamed that I should hesitate about it.”
+
+Forester once more endeavored, in broken, disjointed phrases, to express
+his acknowledgment, and was in the very midst of a mass of contradictory
+explanations, hopes, and wishes, when Linwood entered with, “The
+carriage is ready, my Lord.”
+
+The Knight heard the words with surprise, and as quickly remarked that
+the young man was dressed in deep mourning. “I have been unwittingly
+addressing you as Captain Forester,” said he, gravely; “I believe I
+should have said--”
+
+“Lord Wallincourt,” answered Forester, with a slight tremor in his
+voice; “the death of my brother--” Here he hesitated, and at length was
+silent.
+
+The Knight, who read in his nervous manner and sickly appearance the
+signs of broken health and spirits, resolved at once to sacrifice mere
+personal feeling in a cause of kindness, and said: “I see, my Lord, you
+are scarcely as strong as when I had the pleasure to meet you first, and
+I doubt not that you require a little repose and quietness. Come along
+with me then; and if even this cabin of ours be inhospitable enough not
+to afford you a room, we 'll find something near us on the coast, and I
+have no doubt we 'll set you on your legs again.”
+
+“It is a favor I would have asked, if I dared,” said Forester, feebly.
+He then added: “Indeed, sir, I will confess it, my journey had no
+other object than to present myself to Lady Eleanor Darcy. Through the
+kindness of my relative, Lord Castlereagh, I was enabled to send her
+some tidings of yourself, of which my illness prevented my being the
+bearer, and I was desirous of adding my own testimony, so far as it
+could go.” Here again he faltered.
+
+“Pray continue,” said the Knight, warmly; “I am never happier than when
+grateful, and I see that I have reason for the feeling here.”
+
+“I perceive, sir, you do not recognize me,” said the young man,
+thoughtfully, while he fixed his deep, full eyes upon the Knight's
+countenance.
+
+Darcy stared at him in turn, and, passing his hand across his brow,
+looked again. “There is some mystification here,” said he, quickly, “but
+I cannot see through it.”
+
+“Come, Colonel Darcy,” said Forester, with more animation than before.
+“I see that you forget me-, but perhaps you remember this.” So saying,
+he walked over to a table where a number of cloaks and travelling-gear
+were lying, and taking up a pistol, placed it in Darcy's hand. “This you
+certainly recognize?”
+
+“It is my own!” exclaimed the Knight; “the fellow of it is yonder. I had
+it with me the day we landed at Aboukir.”
+
+“And gave it to me when a French dragoon had his sabre at my throat,”
+ continued Forester.
+
+“And is it to your gallantry that I owe my life, my brave boy?” cried
+the old man, as he threw his arm around him.
+
+“Not one half so much as I owe my recovery to your kindness,” said
+Forester. “Remember the wounded Volunteer you came to see on the march.
+The surgeon you employed never left me till the very day I quitted the
+camp; although I have had a struggle for life twice since then, I never
+could have lived through the first attack but for his aid.”
+
+“Is this all a dream,” said the Knight, as he leaned his head upon
+his band, “or are these events real? Then you were the officer whose
+exchange was managed, and of which I heard soon after the battle?”
+
+“Yes, I was exchanged under a cartel, and sailed for England the day
+after. And you, sir,--tell me of your fate.”
+
+“A slight wound and a somewhat tiresome imprisonment tells the whole
+story,--the latter a good deal enlivened by seeing that our troops were
+beating the French day after day, and the calculation that my durance
+could scarcely last till winter. I proved right, for last month came
+the capitulation, and here I am. But all these are topics for long
+evenings to chat over. Come with me; you can't refuse me any longer.
+Lady Eleanor has the right to speak _her_ gratitude to you; I see you
+won't listen to _mine_.”
+
+The Knight seized the young man's arm, and led him along as he spoke.
+“Nay,” said he, “there is another reason for it. If you suffered me to
+go off alone, nothing would make me believe that what I have now heard
+was not some strange trick of fancy. Here, with you beside me, feeling
+your arm within my own, and hearing your voice, it is all that I can do
+to believe it. Come, let me be convinced again. Where did you join us?”
+
+Forester now went over the whole story of his late adventures, omitting
+nothing from the moment he had joined the frigate at Portsmouth to the
+last evening, when as a prisoner, he had sent for Darcy to speak to him
+before he died. “I thought then,” said he, “I could scarcely have more
+than an hour or two to live; but when you came and stood beside me, I
+was not able to utter a word, I believe, at the time. It was rather a
+relief to me than otherwise that you did not know me.”
+
+“How strange is this all!” said the Knight, musing. “You have told me a
+most singular story; only one point remains yet unelucidated. How came
+you to volunteer,--you were in the Guards?”
+
+“Yes,” said Forester, blushing and faltering; “I had quitted the Guards,
+intending to leave the army, some short time previous; but--but--”
+
+“The thought of active service brought you back again. Out with it,
+and never be ashamed. I remember now having heard from an old friend of
+mine, Miss Daly, how you had left the service; and, to say truth, I
+was sorry for it,--sorry for _your_ sake, but sorrier because it always
+grieves me when men of gentle blood are not to be found where hard
+knocks are going. None ever distinguish themselves with more honor, and
+it is a pity that they should lose the occasion to show the world that
+birth and blood inherit higher privileges than stars and titles.”
+
+While the miles rolled over, they thus conversed; and as each became
+more intimately acquainted and more nearly interested in the other, they
+drew towards the journey's end. It was late on the following night when
+they reached Port Ballintray; and as the darkness threatened more than
+once to mislead them, the postilion halted at the door of a little cabin
+to procure a light for his lamps.
+
+While the travellers sat patiently awaiting the necessary preparation, a
+voice from within the cottage struck Darcy's ear; he threw open the
+door as he heard it, and sprang out, and rushing forward, the moment
+afterwards pressed his wife and daughter in his arms.
+
+Forester, who in a moment comprehended the discovery, hastened to
+withdraw from a scene where his presence could only prove a constraint,
+and leaving a message to say that he had gone to the little inn and
+would wait on the Knight next morning, he hurried from the spot, his
+heart bursting with many a conflicting emotion.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXIV. HOME
+
+Perhaps in the course of a long and, till its very latter years, a most
+prosperous life, the Knight of Gwynne had never known more real unbroken
+happiness than now that he had laid his head beneath the lowly thatch of
+a fisherman's cottage, and found a home beside the humble hearth where
+daily toil had used to repose. It was not that he either felt, or
+assumed to feel, indifferent to the great reverse of his fortune, and to
+the loss of that station to which all his habits of life and thought
+had been conformed. Nor had he the innate sense that his misfortunes had
+been incurred without the culpability of, at least, neglect on his
+own part. No; he neither deceived nor exonerated himself. His present
+happiness sprang from discovering in those far dearer to him
+than himself powers of patient submission, traits of affectionate
+forbearance, signs of a hopeful, trusting spirit, that their trials
+were not sent without an aim and object,--all gifts of heart and mind,
+higher, nobler, and better than the palmiest days of prosperity had
+brought forth.
+
+It was that short and fleeting season, the late autumn, a time in which
+the climate of Northern Ireland makes a brief but brilliant amende for
+the long dreary months of the year. The sea, at last calm and tranquil,
+rolled its long waves upon the shore in measured sweep, waking the
+echoes in a thousand caves, and resounding with hollow voice beneath the
+very cliffs. The wild and fanciful outlines of the Skerry Islands were
+marked, sharp and distinct, against the dark blue sky, and reflected not
+less so in the unruffled water at their base. The White Rocks, as they
+are called, shone with a lustre like dulled silver; and above them the
+ruined towers of old Dunluce hung balanced over the sea, and even in
+decay seemed to defy dissolution.
+
+The most striking feature of the picture was, however, the myriad of
+small boats, amounting in some instances to several hundreds, which
+filled the little bay at sunset. These were the fishermen from
+Innisshowen, coming to gather the seaweed on the western shore their
+eastern aspect denied them,--a hardy and a daring race, who braved the
+terrible storms of that fearful coast without a thought of fear. Here
+were they now, their little skiffs crowded with every sail they could
+carry,--for it was a trial of speed who should be first up after the
+turn of the ebb-tide,--their taper masts bending and springing like
+whips, the white water curling at the bows and rustling over the
+gunwales; while the fishermen themselves, with long harpoon spears,
+contested for the prizes,--large masses of floating weed, which not
+unfrequently were seized upon by three or four rival parties at the same
+moment.
+
+A more animated scene cannot be conceived than the bay thus presented:
+the boats tacking and beating in every direction, crossing each other
+so closely as to threaten collision,--sometimes, indeed, carrying off a
+bowsprit or a rudder; while, from the restless motion of those on
+board, the frail skiffs were at each instant endangered,--accidents that
+occurred continually, but whose peril may be judged by the hearty cheers
+and roars of laughter they excited. Here might be seen a wide-spreading
+surface of tangled seaweed, vigorously towed in two different directions
+by contending crews, whose exertions to secure it were accompanied by
+the wildest shouts and cries. There a party were hauling in the prey,
+while their comrades, with spars and spears, kept the enemy aloof; and
+here, on the upturned keel of a capsized boat, were a dripping group,
+whose heaviest penalty was the ridicule of their fellows.
+
+Seated in front of the little cottage, the Darcys and Forester watched
+this strange scene with all the interest its moving, stirring life could
+excite; and while the ladies could enjoy the varying picture only for
+itself, to the Knight and the youth it brought back the memory of a more
+brilliant and a grander display, one to which heroism and danger had
+lent the most exciting of all interests.
+
+“I see,” said Darcy, as he watched his companion's countenance,--“I see
+whither your thoughts are wandering. They are off to the old castle of
+Aboukir, and the tall cliffs at Marmorica.” Forester slightly nodded an
+assent, but never spoke, while the Knight resumed: “I told you it would
+never do to give up the service. The very glance of your eye at yonder
+picture tells me how the great original is before your miud. Come, a few
+weeks more of rest and quiet, you will be yourself again. Then must you
+present yourself before the gallant Duke, and ask for a restitution to
+your old grade. There will be sharp work erelong. Buonaparte is not the
+man to forgive Alexandria and Cairo. If I read you aright, you prefer
+such a career to all the ambition of a political life.”
+
+Forester was still silent; but his changing color told that the Knight's
+words had affected him deeply, but whether as they were intended, it
+was not so plain to see. The Knight went on: “I am not disposed to vain
+regrets; but if I were to give way to such, it would be that I am not
+young enough to enter upon the career I now see opening to our arms. Our
+insular position seems to have moulded our destiny in great part; but,
+rely on it, we are as much a nation of soldiers as of sailors.” Warming
+with this theme, Darcy continued, while sketching out the possible turn
+of events, to depict the noble path open to a young man who to natural
+talents and acquirements added the high advantages of fortune, rank, and
+family influence.
+
+“I told you,” said he, smiling, “that I blamed you once unjustly, as
+it happened, because, as a Guardsman, you did not seize the occasion to
+exchange guard-mounting for the field; but now I shall be sorely grieved
+if you suffer yourself to be withdrawn from a path that has already
+opened so brightly, by any of the seductions of your station, or the
+fascinations of mere fashion.”
+
+“Are you certain,” said Lady Eleanor, speaking in a voice shaken by
+agitation,--“are you certain, my dear, that these same counsels of yours
+would be in strict accordance with the wishes of Lord Wallincourt's
+friends, or is it not possible that _their_ ambitions may point very
+differently for his future?”
+
+“I can but give the advice I would offer to Lionel,” said Darcy, “if my
+son were placed in similarly fortunate circumstances. A year or two, at
+least, of such training will be no bad discipline to a young man's mind,
+and help to fit him to discuss those terms which, if I see aright, will
+be rife in our assemblies for some years to come--” Darcy was about
+to continue, when Tate advanced with a letter, whose address bespoke
+Bicknell's hand. It was a long-expected communication, and, anxious
+to peruse it carefully, the Knight arose, and making his excuses,
+re-entered the cottage.
+
+The party sat for some time in silence. Lady Eleanor's mind was in a
+state of unusual conflict, since, for the first time in her life, had
+she practised any concealment with her husband, having forborne to tell
+him of Forester's former addresses to Helen. To this course she had
+been impelled by various reasons, the most pressing among which were
+the evident change in the young man's demeanor since he last appeared
+amongst them, and, consequently, the possibility that he had outlived
+the passion he then professed; and secondly, by observing that nothing
+in Helen betrayed the slightest desire to encourage any renewal of those
+professions, or any chagrin at the change in his conduct. As a mother
+and as a woman, she hesitated to avow what should seem to represent
+her daughter as being deserted, while she argued that if Helen were as
+indifferent as she really seemed, there was no occasion whatever for
+the disclosure. Now, however, that the Knight had spoken his counsels so
+strongly, the thought occurred to her, that Forester might receive the
+advice in the light of a rejection of his former proposal, and suppose
+that these suggestions were only another mode of refusing his suit.
+Hence a struggle of doubt and uncertainty arose within her, whether she
+should at once make everything known to Darcy, or still keep silence,
+and leave events to their own development. The former course seemed the
+most fitting; and entirely forgetful of all else, she hastily arose, and
+followed her husband into the cabin.
+
+Forester was now alone with Helen, and for the first time since that
+well-remembered night when he had offered his heart and been rejected.
+The game of dissimulating feelings is almost easiest before a numerous
+audience; it is rarely possible in a _tête-à-tête_. So Forester soon
+felt; and although he made several efforts to induce a conversation,
+they were all abrupt and disjointed, as were Helen's own replies to
+them. At length came a pause; and what a thing is a pause at such a
+moment! The long lingering seconds in which a duellist watches his
+adversary's pistol, wavering over the region of his heart or brain, is
+less torturing than such suspense. Forester arose twice, and again sat
+down, his face pale and flushed alternately. At length, with a thick and
+rapid utterance, he said,--
+
+“I have been thinking over the Knight's counsels,--dare I ask if they
+have Miss Darcy's concurrence?”
+
+“It would be a great, a very great presumption in me,” said Helen,
+tremulously, “to offer an opinion on such a theme. I have neither the
+knowledge to distinguish between the opposite careers, nor have I any
+feeling for those sentiments which men alone understand in warfare.”
+
+“Nor, perhaps,” added Forester, with a sudden irony, “sufficient
+interest in the subject to give it a thought.”
+
+Helen was silent; her slightly compressed lips and heightened color
+showed that she was offended at the speech, but she made no reply.
+
+“I crave your pardon, Miss Darcy,” said he, in a low, submissive accent,
+that told how heartfelt it was. “I most humbly ask you to forgive my
+rudeness. The very fact that I had no claim to that interest should
+have protected you from such a speech. But see what comes of kindness
+to those who are little used to it; they get soon spoiled, and forget
+themselves.”
+
+“Lord Wall incourt will have to guard himself well against flattery, if
+such humble attentions as ours disturb his judgment.”
+
+“I will get out of the region of it,” said he, resolutely; “I will take
+the Knight's advice. It is but a plunge, and all is over.”
+
+“If I dare to say so, my Lord,” said Helen, archly, “this is scarcely
+the spirit in which my father hoped his counsels would be accepted. His
+chivalry on the score of a military life may be overstrained, but it has
+no touch of that recklessness your Lordship seems to lend it.”
+
+“And why should not this be the spirit in which I join the army?” said
+he, passionately; “the career has not for me those fascinations which
+others feel. Danger I like, for its stimulus, as other men like it; but
+I would rather confront it when and where and how I please, than at the
+dictate of a colonel and by the ritual of a despatch.”
+
+“Rather be a letter of marque, in fact, than a ship-of-the-line,--more
+credit to your Lordship's love of danger than discipline.”
+
+Forester smiled, but not without anger, at the quiet persiflage of her
+manner. It took him some seconds ere he could resume.
+
+“I perceive,” said he, in a tone of deeper feeling, “that whatever my
+resolves, to discuss them must be an impertinence, when they excite no
+other emotion than ridicule--”
+
+“Nay, my Lord,” interposed Helen, eagerly; “I beg you to forgive my
+levity. Nothing was further from my thoughts than to hurt one to whom
+we owe our deepest debt of gratitude. I can never forget you saved
+my father's life; pray do not let me seem so base, to my heart, as to
+undervalue this.”
+
+“Oh, Miss Darcy,” said he, passionately, “it is I who need
+forgiveness,--I, whose temper, rendered irritable by illness, suspect
+reproach and sarcasm in every word of those who are kindest to me.”
+
+“You are unjust to yourself,” said Helen, gently,--“unjust, because you
+expect the same powers of mind and judgment that you enjoyed in health.
+Think how much better you are than when you came here. Think what a few
+days more may do. How changed--”
+
+“Has Miss Darcy changed since last I met her?” asked he, in a tone that
+sank into the very depth of her heart.
+
+Helen tried to smile; but emotions of a sadder shade spread over her
+pale features, as she said,--
+
+“I hope so, my Lord; I trust that altered fortunes have not lost their
+teaching. I fervently hope that sorrow and suffering have left something
+behind them better than unavailing regrets and heart-repinings.”
+
+“Oh, believe me,” cried Forester, passionately, “it is not of this
+change I would speak. I dared to ask with reference to another feeling.”
+
+“Be it so,” said Helen, trembling, as if nerving herself for a strong
+and long-looked-for effort,-“be it so, my Lord, and is not my answer
+wide enough for both? Would not any change, short of a dishonorable one,
+make the decision I once came to a thousand times more necessary now?”
+
+“Oh, Helen, these are cold and cruel words. Will you tell me that my
+rank and station are to be like a curse upon my happiness?”
+
+“I spoke of _our_ altered condition, my Lord. I spoke of the
+impossibility of your Lordship recurring to a theme which the sight of
+that thatched roof should have stifled. Nay, hear me out. It is not of
+_you_ or _your_ motives that is here the question; it is of _me_ and
+_my_ duties. They are there, my Lord,--they are with those whose hearts
+have been twined round mine from infancy,--mine when the world went
+well and proudly with us; doubly, trebly mine when affection can replace
+fortune, and the sympathies' of the humblest home make up for all the
+flatteries of the world. I have no reason to dwell longer on this to one
+who knows those of whom I speak, and can value them too.”
+
+“But is there no place in your heart, Helen, for other affections than
+these; or is that place already occupied?”
+
+“My Lord, you have borne my frankness so well, I must even submit to
+yours with a good grace. Still, this is a question you have no right to
+ask, or I to answer. I have told you that whatever doubt there might
+be as to _your_ road in life, _mine_ offered no alternative. That ought
+surely to be enough.”
+
+“It shall be,” said Forester, with a low sigh, as, trembling in every
+limb, he arose from the seat. “And yet, Helen,” said he, in a voice
+barely above a whisper, “there might come a time when these duties, to
+which you cling with such attachment, should be rendered less needful by
+altered fortunes. I have heard that your father's prospects present more
+of hope than heretofore, have I not? Think that if the Knight should be
+restored to his own again, that then--”
+
+“Nay,--it is scarcely worthy of your Lordship to exact a pledge which is
+to hang upon a decision like this. A verdict may give back my father's
+estate; it surely should not dispose of his daughter's hand?”
+
+“I would exact nothing, Miss Darcy,” said Forester, stung by the tone of
+this reply. “But I see you cannot feel for the difficulties which
+beset him who has staked his all upon a cast. I asked, what might your
+feelings be, were the circumstances which now surround you altered?”
+
+Helen was silent for a second or two; and then, as if having collected
+all her energy, she said: “I would that you had spared me--had spared
+yourself--the pain I now must give us both; but to be silent longer
+would be to encourage deception.” It was not till after another brief
+interval that she could continue: “Soon after you left this, my Lord,
+you wrote a letter to Miss Daly. This letter-I stop not now to ask with
+what propriety towards either of us--she left in my hands. I read it
+carefully; and if many of the sentiments it contained served to elevate
+your character in my esteem, I saw enough to show me that your resolves
+were scarcely less instigated by outraged pride than what you fancied
+to be a tender feeling. This perhaps might have wounded me, had I felt
+differently towards you. As it was, I thought it for the best; I deemed
+it happier that your motives should be divided ones, even though you
+knew it not. But as I read on, my Lord,--as I perused the account of
+your interview with Lady Wallincourt,--then a new light broke suddenly
+upon me; I found what, had I known more of life, should not have
+surprised, but what in my ignorance did indeed astonish me, that my
+father's station was regarded as one which could be alleged as a reason
+against your feeling towards his daughter. Now, my Lord, _we_ have our
+pride too; and had your influence over me been all that ever you wished
+it, I tell you freely that I never would permit my affection to be
+gratified at the price of an insult to my father's house. If I were to
+say that your sentiments towards me should not have suffered it, would
+it be too much?”
+
+“But, dearest Helen, remember that I am no longer dependent on my
+mother's will,--remember that I stand in a position and a rank which
+only needs you to share with me to make it all that my loftiest ambition
+ever coveted.”
+
+“These are, forgive me if I tell you, very selfish reasonings, my
+Lord. They may apply to _you_; they hardly address themselves to _my_
+position. The pride which could not stoop to ally itself with our house
+in our days of prosperity, should not assuredly be wounded by suing us
+in our humbler fortunes.”
+
+“Your thoughts dwell on Lady Netherby, Miss Darcy,” said Forester,
+irritably; “she is scarcely the person most to be considered here.”
+
+“Enough for me, if I think so,” said Helen, haughtily. “The lady your
+Lordship's condescension would place in the position of a mother
+should at least be able to regard me with other feelings than those of
+compassionate endurance. In a word, sir, it cannot be. To discuss the
+topic longer is but to distress us both. Leave me to my gratitude to
+you, which is unbounded. Let me dwell upon the many traits of noble
+heroism I can think of in your character with enthusiasm, ay, and with
+pride,--pride that one so high and so gifted should have ever thought
+of one so little worthy of him. But do not weaken my principle by hoping
+that my affection can be won at the cost of my self-esteem.”
+
+Forester bowed with a deep, respectful reverence; and when he lifted
+up his head, the sad expression of his features was that of one who had
+heard an irrevocable doom pronounced upon his dearest, most cherished
+hopes. Lady Eleanor at the same moment came forward from the door of the
+cottage, so that he had barely time to utter a hasty good-bye ere she
+joined her daughter.
+
+“Your father wishes to see Lord Wallincourt, Helen. Has he gone?” But
+before Helen could reply the Knight came up.
+
+“I hope you have not forgotten to ask him to dinner, Eleanor?” said he.
+“We did so yesterday, and he never made his appearance the whole
+evening.”
+
+“Helen, did you?” But Helen was gone while they were speaking; so that
+Darcy, to repair the omission, hastened after his young friend with all
+the speed he could command.
+
+“Have I found you?” cried Darcy, as, turning an angle of the rocky
+shore, he came behind Forester, who, with folded arms and bent-down
+head, stood like one sorrow-struck. “I just discovered that neither my
+wife nor my daughter had asked you to stop to dinner; and as you are
+punctilious, fully as much as they are forgetful, there was nothing for
+it but to run after you.”
+
+“You are too kind, my dear Knight,--but not to-day; I'm poorly,--a
+headache.”
+
+“Nay; a headache always means a mere excuse. Come back with me: you
+shall be as stupid a _convive_ as you wish, only be a good listener, for
+I have got a great budget from my man of law, Mr. Bicknell, and am dying
+for somebody to inflict it upon.”
+
+“With the best grace he could muster,--which was still very far from
+a good one,--Forester suffered himself to be led back to the
+cottage, endeavoring, as he went, to feel or feign an interest in the
+intelligence the Knight was full of. It seemed that Bicknell was very
+anxious not only for the Knight's counsel on many points, but for his
+actual presence at the trial. He appeared to think that Darcy being
+there, would be a great check upon the line of conduct he was apprised
+O'Halloran would adopt. There was already a very strong reaction in the
+West in favor of the old gentry of the land, and it would be at least
+an evidence of willingness to confront the enemy, were the Knight to be
+present.
+
+“He tells me,” continued the Knight, “that Daly regretted deeply not
+having attended the former trial,--why, he does not exactly explain, but
+he uses the argument to press me now to do so.”
+
+Forester might, perhaps, have enlightened him on this score, had he so
+pleased, but he said nothing.
+
+“Of course, I need not say, nothing like intimidation is meant by this
+advice. The days for such are, thank God, gone by in Ireland; and it
+was, besides, a game I never could have played at; but yet it might be
+what many would expect of me, and at all events it can scarcely do harm.
+What is your opinion?”
+
+“I quite agree with Mr. Bicknell,” said Forester, hastily; “there is
+a certain license these gentlemen of wig and gown enjoy, that is more
+protected by the bench than either good morals or good manners warrant.”
+
+“Nay, you are now making the very error I would guard against,” said
+Darcy, laughing. “This legal sparring is rather good fun, even though
+they do not always keep the gloves on. Now, will you come with me?”
+
+“Of course; I should have asked your leave to do so, had you not invited
+me.”
+
+“You 'll hear the great O'Halloran, and I suspect that is as much as I
+shall gain myself by this action. We have merely some points of law to
+go upon; but, as I understand, nothing new or material in evidence to
+adduce. You ask, then, why persist? I 'll own to you I cannot say; but
+there seems the same punctilio in legal matters as in military; and it
+is a point of honor to sustain the siege until the garrison have eaten
+their boots. I am not so far from that contingency now, that I should be
+impatient; but meanwhile I perceive the savor of something better, and
+here comes Tate to say it is on the table.”
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXV. AN AWKWARD DINNER-PARTY
+
+When the reader is informed that Lady Eleanor had not found a fitting
+moment to communicate to the Knight respecting Forester, nor had Helen
+summoned courage to reveal the circumstances of their late interview,
+it may be imagined that the dinner itself was as awkward a thing as need
+be. It was, throughout, a game of cross purposes, in which Darcy alone
+was not a player, and therefore more puzzled than the rest, at the
+constraint and reserve of his companions, whose efforts at conversation
+were either mere unmeaning commonplaces, or half-concealed retorts to
+inferred allusions.
+
+However quick to perceive, Darcy was too well versed in the tactics of
+society to seem conscious of this, and merely redoubled his efforts
+to interest and amuse. Never had his entertaining qualities less of
+success. He could scarcely obtain any acknowledgment from his hearers;
+and stores of pleasantry, poured out in rich profusion, were listened to
+with a coldness bordering upon apathy.
+
+He tried to interest them by talking over the necessity of their speedy
+removal to the capital, where, for the advantage of daily consultation,
+Bicknell desired the Knight's presence. He spoke of the approaching
+journey to the West, for the trial itself; he talked of Lionel, of Daly,
+of their late campaigns; in fact, he touched on everything, hoping
+by some passing gleam of interest to detect a clew to their secret
+thoughts. To no avail. They listened with decorous attention, but no
+signs of eagerness or pleasure marked their features; and when Forester
+rose to take his leave, it was full an hour and a half before his usual
+time of going.
+
+“Now for it, Eleanor,” said the Knight, as Helen soon after quitted the
+room; “what's your secret, for all this mystery must mean something?
+Nay, don't look so in-penetrable, my dear; you'll never persuade any
+man who displayed all his agreeability to so little purpose, that his
+hearers had not a hidden source of preoccupation to account for their
+indifference. What is it, then?”
+
+“I am really myself in the dark, without my conjectures have reason,
+and that Lord Wallincourt may have renewed to Helen the proposal he once
+made her, and with the same fortune.”
+
+“Renewed--proposal!”
+
+“Yes, my dear Darcy, it was a secret I had intended to have told you
+this very day, and went for the very purpose of doing so, when I found
+you engaged with Bicknell's letters and advices, and scrupled to break
+in upon your occupied thoughts. Captain Forester did seek Helen's
+affections, and was refused; and I now suspect Lord Wallincourt may have
+had a similar reverse.”
+
+“This last is, however, mere guess,” said Darcy.
+
+“No more. Of the former Helen herself told me; she frankly acknowledged
+that her affections were disengaged, but that he had not touched them.
+It would seem that he was deeper in love than she gave him credit for.
+His whole adventure as a Volunteer sprang out of this rejected suit, and
+higher fortunes have not changed his purpose.”
+
+“Then Helen did not care for him?”
+
+“That she did not once, I am quite certain; that she does not now, is
+not so sure. But I know that even if she were to do so, the disparity of
+condition would be an insurmountable barrier to her assent.”
+
+Darcy walked up and down with a troubled and anxious air, and at length
+said,--
+
+“Thus is it that the pride we teach our children, as the defence
+against low motives and mean actions, displays its false and treacherous
+principles; and all our flimsy philosophy is based less on the
+affections of the human heart than on certain conventional usages we
+have invented for our own enslavement. There is but one code of right
+and wrong, Eleanor, and that one neither recognizes the artificial
+distinctions of grade, nor makes a virtue of the self-denial; that is a
+mere offering to worldly pride.”
+
+“You would scarcely have our daughter accept an alliance with a house
+that disdains our connection?” said Lady Eleanor, proudly.
+
+“Not, certainly, when the consideration had been once brought before her
+mind. It would then be but a compromise with principle. But why should
+she have ever learned the lesson? Why need she have been taught to
+mingle notions of worldly position and aggrandizement with the emotions
+of her heart? It was enough--it should have been enough--that his
+rank and position were nearly her own, not to trifle with feelings
+immeasurably higher and holier than these distinctions suggest.”
+
+“But the world, my dear Darcy; the world would say--”
+
+“The world would say, Eleanor, that her refusal was perfectly right;
+and if the world's judgments were purer, they might be a source of
+consolation against the year-long bitterness of a sinking heart. Well,
+well!” said he, with a sigh, “I would hope that her heart is free: go
+to her, Eleanor,--learn the truth, and if there be the least germ of
+affection there, I will speak to Wallincourt to-morrow, and tell him to
+leave us. These half-kindled embers are the slow poison of many a noble
+nature, and need but daily intercourse to make them deadly.”
+
+While Lady Eleanor retired to communicate with her daughter, the Knight
+paced the little chamber in moody reverie. As he passed and repassed
+before the window, he suddenly perceived the shadow of a man's figure
+as he stood beside a rock near the beach. Such an apparition was strange
+enough to excite curiosity in a quiet, remote spot, where the few
+inhabitants retired to rest at sunset. Darcy therefore opened the
+window, and moved towards him; but ere he had gone many paces, he was
+addressed by Forester's voice,--“I was about to pay you a visit, Knight,
+and only waited till I saw you alone.”
+
+“Let us stroll along the sands, then,” said Darcy; “the night is
+delicious.” And so saying, he drew his arm within Forester's, and walked
+along at his side.
+
+“I have been thinking,” said Forester, in a low, sad accent,--“I have
+been thinking over the advice you lately gave me; and although I own
+at the time it scarcely chimed in with my own notions, now the more
+I reflect upon it the more plausible does it seem. I have lived long
+enough out of fashionable life to make the return to it anything but a
+pleasure; for politics I have neither talent nor temper; and soldiering,
+if it does not satisfy every condition of my ambition, offers more to my
+capacity and my hopes than any other career.”
+
+“I would that you were more enthusiastic in the cause,” said Darcy, who
+was struck by the deep depression of his manner; “I would that I saw you
+embrace the career more from a profound seuse of duty and devotion, than
+as a 'pis aller.'”
+
+“Such it is,” sighed Forester; and his arm trembled within Darcy's as
+he spoke. “I own it frankly, save in actual conflict itself, I have no
+military ardor in my nature. I accept the road in life, because one must
+take some path.”
+
+“Then, if this be so,” said Darcy, “I recall my counsels. I love the
+service, and you also, too well to wish for such a _mésalliance_; no,
+campaigning will never do with a spirit that is merely not averse.
+Return to London, consult your relative, Lord Castlereagh,--I see
+you smile at my recommendation of him, but I have learned to read his
+character very differently from what I once did. I can see now, that
+however the tortuous course of a difficult policy may have condemned him
+to stratagems wherein he was an agent,--often an unwilling one,--that
+his nature is eminently chivalrous and noble. His education and his
+prejudices have made him less rash than we, in our nationality, like
+to pardon, but the honor of the empire lies next his heart Political
+profligacy, like any other, may be leniently dealt with while it is
+fashionable; but there are minds that never permit themselves to be
+enslaved by fashion, when once they have gained a consciousness of their
+own power: such is his. He is already beyond it; and ere many years
+roll over, he will be equally beyond his competitors too. And now to
+yourself. Let him be your guide. Once launched in public life, its
+interests will soon make themselves felt, and you are young enough to be
+plastic. I know that every man's early years, particularly those who
+are the most favored by fortune, have their clouds and dark shadows. You
+must not seek an exemption from the common lot; remember how much you
+have to be grateful for; think of the advantages for which others strive
+a life long, and never reach,-all yours, at the very outset; and then,
+if there be some sore spots, some secret sorrows under all, take my
+advice and keep them for your own heart. Confessions are admirable
+things for old ladies, who like the petty martyrdom of small sufferings,
+but men should be made of sterner stuff. There is a high pride in
+bearing one's load alone; don't forget that.”
+
+Forester felt that if the Knight had read his inmost feelings, his
+counsel could not have been more directly addressed to his condition; he
+had, indeed, a secret sorrow, and one which threw its gloom over all his
+prosperity. He listened attentively to Darcy's reasonings, and followed
+him, as in the full sincerity of his nature he opened up the history of
+his own life, now commenting on the circumstances of good fortune, now
+adverting to the mischances which had befallen him. Never had the genial
+kindness of the old man appeared more amiable. The just judgments,
+the high and honorable sentiments, not shaken by what he had seen of
+ingratitude and wrong, but hopefully maintained and upheld, the singular
+modesty of his character, were all charms that won more and more upon
+Forester; and when, after a _tête-à-tête_ prolonged till late in the
+night, they parted, Forester's muttered ejaculation was, “Would that I
+were his son!”
+
+“It is as I guessed,” said Lady Eleanor, when the Knight re-entered the
+chamber; “Helen has refused him. I could not press her on the reasons,
+nor ask whether her heart approved all that her head determined. But she
+seemed calm and tranquil; and if I were to pronounce from appearance, I
+should say that the rejection has not cost her deeply.”
+
+“How happy you have made me, Eleanor!” exclaimed Darcy, joyfully; “for
+while, perhaps, there is nothing in this world I should like better than
+to see such a man my son-in-law, there is no misery I would not prefer
+to witnessing my child's affections engaged where any sense of duty or
+pride rendered the engagement hopeless. Now, the case is this: Helen can
+afford to be frank and sisterly towards the poor fellow, who really did
+love her, and after a few days he leaves us.”
+
+“I thought he would go to-morrow,” said Lady Eleanor, somewhat
+anxiously.
+
+“No; I half hinted to him something of the kind, but he seemed bent on
+accompanying me to the West, and really I did not know how to say nay.”
+
+Lady Eleanor appeared not quite satisfied with an arrangement that
+promised a continuation of restraint, if not of positive difficulty,
+but made no remark about it, and turned the conversation on their
+approaching removal to Dublin.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXVI. AN UNEXPECTED PROPOSAL
+
+Our time is now brief with our reader, and we would not trespass on him
+longer by dwelling on the mere details of those struggles to which Helen
+and Forester were reduced by daily association and companionship.
+
+One hears much of Platonism, and, occasionally, of those brother and
+sisterly affections which are adopted to compensate for dearer and
+tenderer ties. Do they ever really exist? Has the world ever presented
+one single successful instance of the compact? We are far, very far,
+from doubting that friendship, the truest and closest, can subsist
+between individuals of opposite sex. We only hazard the conjecture that
+such friendships must not spring out of “Unhappy Love.” They must not
+be built out of the ruins of wrecked affection. No, no; when Cupid is
+bankrupt, there is no use in attempting to patch up his affairs by any
+composition with the creditors.
+
+We are not quite so sure that this is exactly the illustration Forester
+would have used to convey his sense of our proposition; but that he was
+thoroughly of our opinion, there is no doubt. Whether Helen was one
+of the same mind or not, she performed her task more easily and more
+gracefully. We desire too sincerely to part with our fair readers
+on good terms, to venture on the inquiry whether there is not more
+frankness and candor in the character of men than women? There is
+certainly a greater difficulty in the exercise of this quality in the
+gentler sex, from the many restraints imposed by delicacy and womanly
+feeling; and the very habit of keeping within this artificial barrier
+of reserve gives an ease and tranquillity to female manner under
+circumstances where men would expose their troubled and warring
+emotions. So much, perhaps, for the reason that Miss Darcy displayed
+an equanimity of temper very different from the miserable Forester, and
+exerted powers of pleasing and fascination which, to him at least, had
+the singular effect of producing even more suffering than enjoyment.
+The intimacy hitherto subsisting between them was rather increased than
+otherwise. It seemed as if their relations to each other had been fixed
+by a treaty, and now that transgression or change was impossible. If
+this was slavery in its worst form to Forester, to Helen it was liberty
+unbounded. No longer restrained by any fear of misconception, absolved,
+in her own heart, of any designs upon his, she scrupled not to display
+her capacity for thinking and reflecting with all the openness she would
+have done to her brother Lionel; while, to relieve the deep melancholy
+that preyed upon him, she exerted herself by a thousand little stratagems
+of caprice or fancy, that, however successful at the time, were sure to
+increase his gloom when he quitted her presence. Such, then, with its
+varying vicissitudes of pleasure and pain, was the condition of their
+mutual feeling for the remainder of their stay on the northern coast
+Many a time had Forester resolved on leaving her forever, rather than
+perpetuate the lingering torture of an affection that increased with
+every hour; but the effort was more than his strength could compass, and
+he yielded, as it were, to a fate, until at last her companionship had
+become the whole aim and object of his existence.
+
+As winter closed in, they removed to Dublin, and established themselves
+temporarily in an old-fashioned family hotel, selected by Bicknell, in
+a quiet, unpretending street. Neither their means nor inclination would
+have prompted them to select a more fashionable resting-place, while the
+object of strict seclusion was here secured. The ponderous gloom of
+the staid old house, where, from the heavy sideboard of almost black
+mahogany to the wrinkled visage of the grim waiter, all seemed of a
+bygone century, were rather made matters of mutual pleasantry among the
+party than sources of dissatisfaction; while the Knight assured them
+that this was in his younger days the noisy resort of the gay and
+fashionable of the capital.
+
+“Indeed,” added he, “I am not quite sure that this is not where the
+'Townsends,' as the club was then called, used to meet in Swift's time.
+Bicknell will tell us all about it, for he's coming to dine with us.”
+
+Forester was the first to appear in the drawing-room before dinner. It
+is possible that he hurried his toilet in the hope of speaking a few
+words to Helen, who not un-frequently came down before her mother.
+If so, he was doomed to disappointment, as the room was empty when he
+entered; and there was nothing for it but to wait, impatiently indeed,
+and starting at every footstep on the stairs and every door that shut or
+opened.
+
+At last he heard the sound of approaching steps, softened by the deep
+old carpet. They came,--he listened,--the door opened, and the waiter
+announced a name, what and whose Forester paid no attention to, in his
+annoyance that it was not hers he expected. The stranger-a very plump,
+joyous little personage in deep black--did not appear quite unknown to
+Forester; but as the recognition interested him very little, he merely
+returned a formal bow to the other's more cordial salute, and turned to
+the window where he was standing.
+
+“The Knight, I believe, is dressing?” said the new arrival, advancing
+towards Forester.
+
+“Yes; but I have no doubt he will be down in a few moments.”
+
+“Time enough,--no hurry in life. They told me below stairs that you were
+here, and so I came up at once. I thought that I might introduce myself.
+Paul Dempsey,--Dempsey's Grove. You've heard of me before, eh?”
+
+“I have had that pleasure,” said Forester, with more animation of
+manner; for now he remembered the face and figure of the worthy Paul, as
+he had seen both in the large mirror of his mother's drawing-room.
+
+“Ha! I guessed as much,” rejoined Paul, with a chuckling laugh; “the
+ladies are here, too, ain't they?”
+
+Forester assented, and Paul went on.
+
+“Only heard of it from Bicknell half an hour ago. Took a car, and came
+off at once. And when did _you_ come?”
+
+Forester stared with amazement at a question whose precise meaning he
+could not guess at, and to which he could only reply by a half-smile,
+expressive of his difficulty.
+
+“You were away, weren't you?” asked Dempsey.
+
+“Yes; I have been out of England,” replied Forester, more than ever
+puzzled how this fact could or ought to have any interest for the other.
+
+“Never be ashamed of it. Soldiering 's very well in its way, though I 'd
+never any taste for it myself,--none of that martial spirit that stirred
+the bumpkin as he sang,--
+
+     Perhaps a recruit
+     Might chance to shoot
+     Great General Buonaparte.
+
+Well, well! it seems you soon got tired of glory, of which, from all
+I hear, a little goes very far with any man's stomach; and no wonder.
+Except a French bayonet, there 's nothing more indigestible than
+commissary bread.”
+
+“The service is not without some hardships,” said Forester, blandly,
+and preferring to shelter himself under generality than invite further
+inquisitiveness.
+
+“Cruelties you might call them,” rejoined Dempsey, with energy. “The
+frightful stories we read in the papers!--and I suppose they are all
+true. Were you ever touched up a bit yourself?” This Paul said in
+his most insinuating manner; and as Forester's stare showed a total
+ignorance of his meaning, he added, “A little four-and-twenty, I mean,”
+ mimicking, as he spoke, the action of flogging.
+
+“Sir!” exclaimed Forester, with an energy almost ferocious; and Dempsey
+made a spring backwards, and intrenched himself behind a sofa-table.
+
+“Blood alive!” he exclaimed, “don't be angry. I wouldn't offend you for
+the world; but I thought--”
+
+“Never mind, sir,-your apology is quite sufficient,” said Forester, who
+had no small difficulty to repress laughing at the terrified face before
+him. “I am quite convinced there was no intention to give offence.”
+
+“Spoke like a man,” said Dempsey, coming out from his ambush with an
+outstretched hand; and Forester, not usually very unbending in such
+cases, could not help accepting the salutation so heartily proffered.
+
+“Ah, my excellent friend, Mr. Dempsey!” said the Knight, entering at the
+same moment, and gayly tapping him on the shoulder. “A man I have long
+wished to see, and thank for many kind offices in my absence.--I 'm glad
+to see you are acquainted with Mr. Dempsey.--Well, and how fares the
+world with you?”
+
+“Better, rather better, Knight,” said Paul, who had scarcely recovered
+the fright Forester had given him. “You've heard that old Bob's off?
+Didn't go till he could n't help it, though; and now your humble servant
+is the head of the house.”
+
+While the Knight expressed his warm congratulations, Lady Eleanor and
+Helen came in; and by their united invitation Paul was persuaded to
+remain for dinner,--an event which, it must be owned, Forester could not
+possibly comprehend.
+
+Bicknell's arrival soon after completed the party, which, however
+discordant in some respects, soon exhibited signs of perfect accordance
+and mutual satisfaction. Mr. Dempsey's presence having banished all
+business topics for discussion, he was permitted to launch out into
+his own favorite themes, not the least amusing feature of which was the
+perfect amazement of Forester at the man and his intimacy.
+
+As the ladies withdrew to the drawing-room, Paul became more moody
+and thoughtful, now and then interchanging glances with Bicknell, and
+seeming as if on the verge of something, and yet half doubting how to
+approach it. Two or three hastily swallowed bumpers, and a look, which
+he believed of encouragement, from Bicknell, at length rallied Mr.
+Dempsey, and after a slight hesitation, he said,--
+
+“I believe, Knight, we are all friends here; it is, strictly speaking, a
+cabinet council?”
+
+If Darcy did not fathom the meaning of the speech, he had that knowledge
+of the speaker which made his assent to it almost a matter of course.
+
+“That's what I thought,” resumed Paul; “and it is a moment I have been
+anxiously looking for. Has our friend here said anything?” added he,
+with a gesture towards Bicknell.
+
+“I, sir? I said nothing, I protest!” exclaimed the man of law, with an
+air of deprecation. “I told you, Mr. Dempsey, that I would inform the
+Knight of the generous proposition you made about the loan; but, till
+the present moment, I have not had the opportunity.”
+
+“Pooh, pooh! a mere trifle,” interrupted Paul. “It is not of that I
+was thinking: it is of a very different subject I would speak. Has
+Lady Eleanor or Miss Darcy--has she told you nothing of me?” said he,
+addressing the Knight.
+
+“Indeed they have, Mr. Dempsey, both spoken of you repeatedly, and
+always in the same terms of grateful remembrance.”
+
+“It isn't that, either,” said Paul, with a half-sigh of disappointment.
+
+“You are unjust to yourself, Mr. Dempsey,” said Darcy, good-humoredly,
+“to rest a claim to our gratitude on any single instance of kindness;
+trust me that we recognize the whole debt.”
+
+“But it's not that,” rejoined Paul, with a shake of the head. “Lord
+bless us! how close women are about these things,” muttered he to
+himself. “There is nothing for it but candor, I suppose, eh?”
+
+This being put in the form of a direct question, and the Knight having
+as freely assented, Paul resumed,--“Well, here it is. Being now at the
+head of an ancient name, and very pretty independence,--Bicknell has
+seen the papers,--I have been thinking of that next step a man takes who
+would wish to--wish to-hand down a little race of Dempseys. You
+understand?” Darcy smiled approvingly, and Paul continued: “And as
+conformity of temper, taste, and habits are the surest pledges of such
+felicity, I have set the eyes of my affections upon--Miss Darcy.”
+
+So little prepared was the Knight for what was coming, that up to that
+moment he had been listening with a smile of easy enjoyment; but when
+the last word was spoken, he started as if he had been stung by a
+reptile, nor could all his habitual self-control master the momentary
+flush of irritation that covered his face.
+
+“I know,” said Paul, with a dim consciousness that his proposition was
+but half acceptable, “that we are not exactly, so to say, the same rank
+and class; but the Dempseys are looking up, and--”
+
+“'The Darcys looking down,' you would add,” said the Knight, with a
+gleam of his habitual humor in his eye.
+
+“And, like the buckets in a well, the full and empty ones meet
+half-way,” added Dempsey, laughing. “I know well, as I said before, we
+are not the same kind of people, and perhaps this would have deterred me
+from indulging any thoughts on the subject, but for a chance, a bit of
+an accident, as a body may call it, that gave me courage.”
+
+“This is the very temple of candor, Mr. Dempsey,” said the
+Knight, smiling. “Pray proceed, and let us hear the source of your
+encouragement; what was it?”
+
+“Say, who was it, rather,” interposed Paul.
+
+“Be it so, then. Who was it? You have only made my curiosity stronger.”
+
+“Lady Eleanor,--ay, and Miss Helen herself.”
+
+A start of anger and a half-spoken exclamation were as quickly
+interrupted by a fit of laughing; and the Knight leaned back in his
+chair, and shook with the emotion.
+
+“You doubt it; you think it absurd,” said Dempsey, himself laughing,
+and not exhibiting the slightest irritation. “What if they say it's
+true,--will that content you?”
+
+“I'm afraid it would not,” said Darcy, equivocally; “there's nothing
+less likely to do so. Still, I assure you, Mr. Dempsey, if the ladies
+are of the mind you attribute to them, I shall find it very difficult to
+disbelieve anything I ever hear hereafter.”
+
+“I'm satisfied to stand or fall by their verdict,” said Paul,
+resolutely. “I'm not a fool, exactly; and do you think if I had not
+something stronger than mere suspicion to guide me, that I'd have gone
+that same journey to London? Oh, I forgot--I did not tell you about my
+going to Lord Netherby.”
+
+“You went to Lord Netherby, and on this subject?” said Darcy, whose face
+became suffused with shame, an emotion doubly painful from Forester's
+presence.
+
+“That I did,” rejoined the unabashed Paul, “and a long conversation we
+had over the matter. He introduced me to his wife too. Lord bless us,
+but that is a bit of pride!”
+
+“You are aware that the lady is Lord Wallincourt's mother,” interposed
+Darcy, sternly.
+
+“Faith, so that she is n't mine,” said the inexorable Paul, “I don't
+care! There she was, lying in state, with a greyhound with silver bells
+on his neck at her feet; and when I came into the room, she lifts up
+her head and gives me a look, as much as to say, 'Oh, that's him.'--'Mr.
+Dempsey, of Dempsey's Hole,'--for hole he would call it, in spite of
+me,--'Mr. Dempsey, my love,' said my Lord, bowing as ceremoniously as
+if he never saw her before; and so, taking the hint, I began a little
+course of salutations, when she called out, 'Tell him not to do that,
+Netherby,--tell him not to do that-'”
+
+This was too much for Mr. Dempsey's hearers, who, however differently
+minded as to the narrative, now concurred in one outbreak of hearty
+laughter.
+
+“Well, my Lord,” said Darcy, turning to Forester, “you certainly have
+shown evidence of a most enviable good temper. Had your Lordship--”
+
+“His Lordship!” exclaimed Paul, in amazement. “Is n't that your
+son,--Captain Darcy?”
+
+“No, indeed, Mr. Dempsey,” said the Knight; “I thought, as I came into
+the drawing-room, that you were acquainted, or I should have presented
+you to the Earl of Wallincourt.”
+
+“Oh, ain't I in for it now!” cried Paul, in an accent of grief most
+ludicrously natural. “Oh! by the powers, I 'm up to the knees in
+trouble! And that was your mother! oh dear! oh dear!”
+
+“You see, my worthy friend,” said Darcy, smiling, “how easy a thing
+deception is. Is it not possible that your misconceptions do not end
+here?”
+
+“I 'll never get over it, I know I'll not!” exclaimed Paul, wringing
+his hands as he arose from the table. “Bad luck to it for grandeur!”
+ muttered he between his teeth; “I never had a minute's happiness since I
+got the taste for it.” And with this honest avowal he rushed out of the
+room.
+
+It was some time before the party in the dining-room adjourned upstairs;
+but when they did, they found Mr. Dempsey seated at the fire, recounting
+to the ladies his late unhappy discomfiture,--a narrative which even
+Lady Eleanor's gravity was not enabled to withstand. A kind audience
+was always a boon of the first water to honest Paul; and very little
+pressing was needed to induce him to continue his revelations, for the
+Knight wisely felt that such pretensions as his could not be buried so
+satisfactorily as beneath the load of ridicule.
+
+Mr. Dempsey's scruples soon vanished and thawed under the warmth of
+encouraging voices and smiles, and he began the narrative of his night
+at “The Corvy,” his painful durance in the canoe, his escape, the
+burning of the law papers, and each step of his progress to the very
+moment that he stood a listener at Lady Eleanor's door. Then he halted
+abruptly and said, “Now I'm dumb! racks and thumbscrews wouldn't get
+more out of me.”
+
+“You cannot mean, sir,” said Lady Eleanor, calmly but haughtily, “that
+you overheard the conversation that passed between my daughter and
+myself?”
+
+“Every word of it!” replied Paul, bluntly.
+
+“Oh, really, sir, I can scarcely compliment you on the spirit of your
+curiosity; for although the theme we talked on, if I remember aright,
+was the speedy necessity of removing,--the urgency of seeking some place
+of refuge--”
+
+“If I had n't heard which, I could not have assisted you in your
+departure,” rejoined the unabashed Paul: “the old Loyola maxim, 'Evil,
+that Good may come of it.'”
+
+Helen sat pale and terrified all this time; for although Lady Eleanor
+had forgotten the discussion of any other topic on that night save that
+of their legal difficulties, she well remembered a theme nearer and
+dearer to her heart. Whether from the distress of these thoughts, or in
+the hope of propitiating Mr. Dempsey to silence, so it was, she fixed
+her eyes upon him with an expression Paul thought he could read, and
+he gave a look of such conscious intelligence in return as brought the
+blush to her cheek. “I 'm not going to say one word about it,” said he,
+in a stage whisper that even the Knight himself overheard.
+
+“Then I must myself insist upon Mr. Dempsey's revelations,” said Darcy,
+not at all satisfied with the air of mystery Dempsey threw around his
+intercourse.
+
+Another look from Helen here met Paul's, and he stood uncertain how to
+act.
+
+“Really, sir,” said Lady Eleanor, “however little the subject we
+discussed was intended for other ears than our own, I must beg of you
+now to repeat what you remember of it.”
+
+“Well, what can I do?” exclaimed Paul, looking at Helen with an
+expression of the most helpless misery; “I know you are angry, and I
+know that when you like it, you can blaze up like a Congreve rocket.
+Oh, faith! I don't forget the day I showed you the newspaper about the
+English officer thrashing O'Halloran!”
+
+Helen grew scarlet, and turned away, but not before Forester had caught
+her eyes, and read in them more of hope than his heart had known for
+many a day before.
+
+“These are more mysteries, Mr. Dempsey; and if you continue to scatter
+riddles as you go, we shall never get to the end of this affair.”
+
+“Perhaps,” interposed Bicknell, hoping to close the unpleasant
+discussion,--“perhaps Mr. Dempsey, feeling that he had personally no
+interest in the conversation between Lady Eleanor and Miss Darcy--”
+
+“Had n't he, then?” exclaimed Paul,--“maybe not. If I hadn't, then, who
+had?--tell me that. Wasn't it then and there I first heard of the kind
+intentions towards me?”
+
+“Towards you, sir! Of what are you speaking?”
+
+“Blood alive! will you tell me that I 'm not Paul Dempsey, of Dempsey's
+Grove?” exclaimed he, driven beyond all patience by what he deemed
+equivocation. “Will you tell me that your Ladyship didn't allude to the
+day I brought the letter from Coleraine, and say that you actually
+began to like me from that hour? Did n't you tell Miss Helen not to lie
+down-hearted, because there were better days in store for us? Miss Darcy
+remembers it, I see,--ay, and your Ladyship does now. Did n't you call
+me rash and headstrong and ambitious? I forgive it all; I believe it is
+true. And was n't I your bond-slave from that hour? Oh, mercy on me! the
+pleasant time I had of it at Mother Fum's! Then came the days and nights
+I was watching over you at Ballintray. Ay, faith, and money was very
+scarce with me when I gave old Denny Nolan five shillings for the loan
+of his nankeen jacket to perform the part of waiter at the little inn.
+Do you remember a little note, in the shape of a friendly warning? Eh,
+now, my Lady, I think your memory is something fresher.”
+
+If the confusion of Lady Eleanor and her daughter was extreme at this
+outpouring of Mr. Dempsey's confessions, the amazement of Darcy and the
+utter stupefaction of Forester were even greater; to throw discredit
+upon him would be to acknowledge the real bearing of the circumstances,
+which would be far worse than all his imputations; so there was no
+alternative but to lie under every suspicion his narrative might
+suggest.
+
+Forester felt annoyed as much that such a person should have obtained
+this assumed intimacy as by the pretensions he well knew were only
+absurd, and took an early leave under the pretence of fatigue. Bicknell
+soon followed; and now the Knight, arresting Dempsey's preparations for
+departure, led him back towards the fire, and placing a chair for him
+between Lady Eleanor and himself, obliged him to recount his scattered
+reminiscences once more, and, what was a far less pleasing duty to him,
+to listen to Lady Eleanor while she circumstantially unravelled the web
+of his delusion, and, in order, explained on what unsubstantial grounds
+he had built the edifice of his hope. Perhaps honest Paul was not more
+afflicted at any portion of the disentanglement than that which, in
+disavowing his pretensions, yet confessed that some other held the
+favorable place, while that other's name was guarded as a secret. This
+was, indeed, a sore blow, and he could n't rally from it; and willingly
+would he have bartered all the gratitude they expressed for his many
+friendly offices to know his rival's name.
+
+“Well,” exclaimed he, as Lady Eleanor concluded, “it's clear I was n't
+the man. Only think of my precious journey to London, and the interview
+with that terrible old Countess,--all for nothing! No matter,--it's all
+past and over. As for the loan, I 've arranged it all; you shall have
+the money when you like.”
+
+“I must decline your generous offer, not without feeling your debtor for
+it; but I have determined to abandon these proceedings. The Government
+have promised me some staff appointment, quite sufficient for my wishes
+and wants; and I will neither burden my friends nor wear out myself by
+tiresome litigation.”
+
+[Illustration: 435]
+
+“That's the worst of all,” exclaimed Dempsey; “I thought you would not
+refuse me this.”
+
+“Nor would I, my dear Dempsey, but that I have no occasion for the sum.
+To-morrow I set out to witness the last suit I shall ever engage in;
+and as I believe there is little doubt of the issue, I have nothing of
+sanguine feeling to suffer by disappointment.”
+
+“Well, then, to-morrow I 'll start for Dempsey's Grove,” said Paul,
+sorrowfully. “With very different expectations I quitted it a few days
+ago. Good-bye, Lady Eleanor; good-bye, Miss Helen. I suppose there 's no
+use in guessing?”
+
+Mr. Dempsey's leave-taking was far more rueful than his wont, and woe
+seemed to have absorbed all other feeling; but when he reached the door,
+he turned round and said,--
+
+“Now I am going,--never like to see him again; do tell me the name.”
+
+A shake of the head, and a merry burst of laughter, was all the answer;
+and Paul departed.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXVII. THE LAST STRUGGLE
+
+That the age of chivalry is gone, we are reminded some twenty times
+in each day of our commonplace existence, Perhaps the changed tone of
+society exhibits nowhere a more practical but less picturesque advantage
+than in the fact that the “joust” of ancient times is now replaced by
+the combat of the law court. Some may regret--we will not say if we are
+not of the number--that the wigged Baron of the Exchequer is scarcely so
+pleasing an arbiter as the Queen of Love and Beauty. Others may deem
+the knotted subtleties of black-letter a sorry recompense for the “wild
+crash and tumult of the fray.” The crier of the Common Pleas would
+figure to little advantage beside the gorgeously clad Herald of the
+Lists; nor are the artificial distinctions of service so imposing that
+a patent of precedency could vie with the white cross on the shield of
+a Crusader. Still, there are certain counterbalancing interests to be
+considered; and it is possible that the veriest décrier of the law's
+uncertainty “would rather stake life and fortune on the issue of a
+'trial of law,' than on the thews and sinews of the doughtiest champion
+that ever figured in an 'ordeal of battle.'”
+
+In one respect there is a strong similarity between the two
+institutions. Each, in its separate age, possessed the same sway and
+influence over men's minds, investing with the deepest interest events
+of which they were hitherto ignorant, and enlisting partisans of opinion
+in cases where, individually, there was nothing at stake.
+
+An important trial has all the high interest of a most exciting
+narrative, whose catastrophe is yet to come, and where so many
+influential agencies are in operation to mould it. The proofs
+themselves, the veracity of witnesses, their self-possession and courage
+under the racking torture of cross-examination, the ability and skill
+of the advocate, the temper of the judge, his character of rashness
+or patience, of doubt or decisiveness; and then, more vague than all
+besides, the verdict of twelve perhaps rightly minded but as certainly
+very ordinarily endowed men, on questions sometimes of the greatest
+subtlety and obscurity. The sum of such conflicting currents makes up a
+“cross sea,” where everything is possible, from the favoring tide that
+leads to safety, to the swell and storm of utter shipwreck.
+
+At the winter assizes of Galway, in the year 1802, all the deep
+sympathies of a law-loving population were destined to be most heartily
+engaged by the record of Darcy _versus_ Hickman, now removed by a change
+of _venue_ for trial to that city. It needed not the unusual compliment
+of Galway being selected as a likely spot for the due administration of
+justice, to make the plaintiff somewhat popular on this occasion. The
+reaction which for some time back had taken place in favor of the “real
+gentry” had gone on gaining in strength, so that public opinion
+was already inclining to the side of those who had earned a sort of
+prescriptive right to public confidence. The claptraps of patriotism,
+associated as they were often found to be with cruel treatment of
+tenants and dependants, were contrasted with the independent bearing of
+men who, rejecting dictation and spurning mob popularity, devoted the
+best energies of mind and fortune to the interests of all belonging
+to them. All the vindictiveness and rancor of a party press could not
+obliterate these traits, and character sufficed to put down calumny.
+
+Hickman O'Reilly, accompanied by the old doctor, had arrived in
+Galway the evening before the trial, in all the pomp of a splendid
+travelling-carriage, drawn by four posters. The whole of “Nolan's” Head
+Inn had been already engaged for them and their party, who formed a
+tolerably numerous suite of lawyers, solicitors, and clerks, together
+with some private friends, curious to witness the proceedings.
+
+In a very quiet but comfortable old inn called the “Devil and the Bag
+of Nails,”--a corruption of the ancient Satyr and the Bacchanals,--Mr.
+Bicknell had pitched his camp, having taken rooms for the Knight and
+Forester, who were to arrive soon after him, but whose presence in
+Ireland was not even suspected by the enemy.
+
+There was a third individual who repaired to the West on this occasion,
+but who studiously screened himself from observation, waiting patiently
+for the issue of the combat to see on which side he should carry his
+congratulation: need we say his name was Con Heffernan?
+
+Bicknell had heard of certain threats of the opposite party, which,
+while he did not communicate them to Darcy, were sufficient to give him
+deep uneasiness, as they went so far as to menace a very severe reprisal
+for these continued proceedings by a criminal action against Lionel
+Darcy. Of what nature, and on what grounds sustained, he knew not; but
+he was given to understand that if his principal would even now
+submit to some final adjustment out of court, the Hickmans would treat
+liberally with him, and, while abandoning these threatened proceedings
+against young Darcy, show Bicknell all the grounds for such a procedure.
+
+It was past midnight when Darcy and Forester arrived; but before
+the Knight retired to rest he had learned all Bicknell's doubts and
+scruples, and unhesitatingly decided on proceeding with his suit. He
+felt that a compromise would now involve the honor of his son, of which
+he had not the slightest dread of any investigation; and, however small
+the prospect of success, the trial must take place to evidence his utter
+disregard, his open defiance of this menace.
+
+Morning came; and long before the judges took their seat, the court was
+crowded in every part. The town was thronged with the equipages of the
+neighboring gentry, all eager to witness the trial; while the country
+people, always desirous of an exciting scene, thronged every avenue and
+passage of the building, and even the wide area in front of it. Nothing
+short of that passion for law and its interests, so inherent in an Irish
+heart, could have held that vast multitude thus enchained; for the day
+was one of terrific storm, the rain beating, the wind howling, and the
+sea roaring as it swept into the bay and broke in showers of foam upon
+the rocky shore. Each moment ran the rumor of some new disaster in the
+town,--now it was a chimney fallen, now a roof blown in, now an entire
+house, with all its inmates destroyed; fires, too, the invariable
+accompaniment of hurricane, had broken out in various quarters, and
+cries for help and screams of wretchedness were mingled with the wilder
+uproar of the elements. Yet of that dense mob, few if any quitted their
+places for these sights and sounds of woe. The whole interest lay within
+that sombre building, and on the issue of an event of whose particulars
+they knew absolutely nothing, and the details of which it was impossible
+they could follow did they even hear them.
+
+The ordinary precursors to the interest of these scenes are the chance
+appearances of those who are to figure prominently in them; and such,
+indeed, attracted far more of attention on this occasion than all the
+startling accidents by fire and storm then happening on every side. Each
+lawyer of celebrity on the circuit was speedily recognized, and greeted
+by tokens of welcome or expressions of disfavor, as politics or party
+inclined. The attorneys were treated with even greater familiarity,
+themselves not disdaining to exchange a repartee as they passed, in
+which combats, be it said, they were not always the victors. At last
+came old Dr. Hickman, feebly crawling along, leaning one arm on his
+son's, and the other on the stalwart support of Counsellor O'Halloran.
+The already begun cheer for the popular “Counsellor” was checked by the
+arrival of the sheriff, preceding and making way for the judges, whose
+presence ever imposed a respectful demeanor. The buzz and hum of voices,
+subdued for a moment, had again resumed its sway, when once more the
+police exerted themselves to make a passage through the throng, calling
+out, “Make way for the Attorney-General!” and a jovial, burly personage,
+with a face redolent of convivial humor and rough merriment, came up,
+rather dragging than linked with the thin, slight figure of Bicknell,
+who with unwonted eagerness was whispering something in his ear.
+
+“I'll do it with pleasure, Bicknell,” rejoined the full, mellow voice,
+loud enough to be heard by those on either side; “I know the sheriff
+very well, and he will take care to let him have a seat on the bench.
+What's the name?”
+
+“The Earl of Wallincourt,” whispered Bicknell, a little louder.
+
+“That's enough; I'll not forget it” So saying, he released his grasp of
+the little man, and pursued his vigorous course. In a few moments after,
+Bicknell was seen accompanied by Forester alone; “the Knight” having
+determined not to present himself till towards the close of the
+proceedings, if even then.
+
+The buzz and din incident to a tumultuous assembly had just subsided to
+the decorous quietude of a Court of Justice, by the judges entering and
+taking their seats, when, after a few words interchanged between the
+Attorney-General and the sheriff, the latter courteously addressed Lord
+Wallincourt, and made way for him to ascend the steps leading to
+the bench. The incident was in itself too slight and unimportant for
+mention, save that it speedily attracted the attention of O'Halloran,
+whose quick glance at once recognized his ancient enemy. So sudden was
+the shock, and so poignant did it seem, that he actually desisted from
+the occupation he was engaged in of turning over his brief, and sat down
+pale and trembling with passion.
+
+“You are not ill?” asked O'Reilly, eagerly, for he had not remarked the
+incident.
+
+“Not ill,” rejoined O'Halloran, in a low, deep whisper; “but do you see
+who is sitting next Judge Wallace, on the left of the bench?”
+
+“Forester, I really believe,” exclaimed O'Reilly; for so separated were
+the two “United” countries at that period that his accession to rank and
+title was a circumstance of which neither O'Reilly nor his lawyer had
+ever heard.
+
+“We 'll change the _venue_ for him, too, before the day is over,” said
+O'Halloran, with a savage leer. “Do not let him see that we notice him.”
+
+While these brief words were interchanged, the business of the court
+was opened, and, some routine matters over, the record of Darcy _versus_
+Hickman called on. After this, the names of the special jury list were
+recited, and the invariable scene of dispute and wrangling incident
+to their choice followed. In law, as in war, the combat opens by a
+skirmish; a single cannon-shot, or a leading question, if thrown out, is
+meant rather to ascertain “the range” than with any positive intention
+of damage; but gradually the light troops fall back, forces concentrate,
+and a mighty movement is made. In the present instance the preliminaries
+were unusually long, the plaintiff's counsel not only stating all the
+grounds of the present suit, but recapitulating, with painful accuracy,
+the reasons for the change of _venue_, and reviewing and of course
+rebutting by anticipation every possible or impossible objection
+that might be made by his learned friend on “the other side.” For our
+purpose, it is enough if we condense the matter into a single statement,
+that the action was to show that Hickman, in purchasing portions of the
+Darcy estate, was and must have been aware that the Knight of Gwynne's
+signature appended to the deed of sale was a forgery, and that he
+never had concurred in, nor was even cognizant of, this disposal of his
+property. A single case was selected to establish this fact, on which,
+if proved, further proceedings in Equity would be founded.
+
+The plaintiff's case opened by an examination of a number of witnesses,
+old tenants of the Darcy property. These were not only called to prove
+the value of their holdings, as being very far above the price alleged
+to have been paid by Hickman, but also that they themselves were in
+total ignorance that the estate had been conveyed away to another
+proprietor, and never knew till the flight and death of Gleeson took
+place, that for many years previous they had ceased to be tenants of
+Maurice Darcy, to become those of Dr. Hickman.
+
+The examination and cross-examination of these witnesses presented all
+the varying and changeful fortunes ever observable in such scenes.
+At one moment some obdurate old farmer resisting, with ludicrous
+pertinacity, all the efforts of the examining counsel to elicit the very
+testimony he himself wished to give; at another, the native humor of
+the peasant was seen baffling and foiling all the trained skill and
+practised dexterity of the pleader. Many a merry burst of laughter, many
+a jest that set the court in a roar, were exchanged. It was in Ireland,
+remember; but still the business of the day advanced, and a great
+weight of evidence was adduced, which, however suggestive to common
+intelligence, went legally only so far as to show that the tenantry
+were, almost to a man, of an opinion which, whether well founded or not
+in reason, turned out to be incorrect.
+
+Darcy's counsel, a man of quickness and intelligence, made a very able
+speech, summing up the evidence, and commenting on every leading portion
+of it. He dwelt powerfully on the fact that at the time of this alleged
+sale the Knight, so far from being a distressed and embarrassed man, and
+consequently likely to effect a sale at a great loss, was, in reality,
+in possession of a princely fortune, his debts few and insignificant,
+and his income far above any possible expenditure. If he studiously
+avoided adverting to Gleeson's perfidy, as solely in fault, he assumed
+to himself credit for the forbearance, alleging that less scrupulous
+advisers might have gone perhaps further, and inferred connivance in a
+case so dubious and dark. “My client, however,” said he, “gave me but
+one instruction in this cause, and it was this: 'If the law of the land,
+justly administered, as I believe it will be, restores to me my own, I
+shall be grateful; but if the pursuit of what I feel my right involve
+the risk of reflecting on one honest man's fame, or imputing falsely
+aught of dishonor to an unblemished reputation, I tell you frankly, I
+don't think a verdict so obtained can carry with it anything but shame
+and disgrace.”
+
+With these words he sat down, amid a murmur of approving voices;
+for there were many there who knew the Knight by reputation, if not
+personally, and were aware how well such a speech accorded with every
+feature of his character.
+
+There was a brief delay as he resumed his seat. It was already late, the
+court had been obliged to be lighted up a considerable time previous,
+and the question of an adjournmeut was now discussed. The probable
+length of O'Halloran's reply would best guide the decision, and the
+Chief Baron asked if the learned counsel's statement were likely to be
+long.
+
+“Yes, my Lord,” replied he; “it is not a case to be dismissed briefly,
+and I have many witnesses to call.”
+
+Another brief discussion took place on the bench, and the Chief Baron
+announced that as there were many important causes still standing over
+for trial, they should best consult public convenience by proceeding,
+and that, after a few moments devoted to refreshment, the case should go
+on.
+
+The judges retired, and many of the leading counsel took the same
+opportunity to recruit strength exhausted by several hours of severe
+toil. The Hickmans and O'Halloran never quitted their places; a decanter
+of sherry and a sandwich from the hotel were served where they sat,
+but the old man took nothing. The interest of the scene appeared too
+absorbing to admit of even a sense of hunger or weariness, and he sat
+with his hands folded, and his eyes mechanically fixed upon the now
+empty jury-box; for there, the whole day, were his looks riveted, to
+read, if he might, the varying emotions in the faces of those who held
+so much of his fortune in their keeping.
+
+While the noise and hubbub which characterize a court at such intervals
+was at its highest, a report was circulated that increased in no small
+degree the excitement of the scene, and gave a character of intense
+anxiety to an assemblage so lately broken up by varied and dissimilar
+passions. It was this: a large vessel had struck on a reef in the bay,
+and the sea was now breaking over her. She had been seen from an early
+hour endeavoring to beat to the southward; but the wind had drawn more
+to the westward as the storm increased, and a strong shore current had
+also drawn her on land. In a last endeavor to clear the headlands of
+Clare, she missed stays, and being struck by a heavy sea, her rudder was
+carried away. Totally unmanageable now, she was drifted along, till
+she struck on a most dangerous reef about a mile from shore. Signals of
+distress were seen at her masthead, but no boat could venture out.
+The storm was already a hurricane, and even in the very harbor two
+fishing-boats had sunk.
+
+As the dreadful tidings flew from mouth to mouth, a terrible
+confirmation was heard in the booming of guns of distress, which at
+brief intervals sounded amid the crashing of the storm.
+
+It was at this moment of intense excitement that the crier proclaimed
+silence for the approaching entry of the judges. If the din of human
+voices became hushed and low, the deafening thunder of the elements
+seemed to increase, and the roaring of the enraged sea appeared to fill
+the very atmosphere.
+
+As the judges resumed their seats, and the vast crowd ceased to stir or
+speak, O'Halloran arose. His voice was singularly low and quiet; but yet
+every word he uttered was distinctly heard through all the clamor of the
+storm.
+
+“My Lords,” said he, “before entering upon my client's case, I would
+bespeak the kind indulgence of the court in respect to a matter purely
+personal to myself. Your Lordships are too well aware that I should
+insist upon it, that in a cause where the weightiest interests of
+property are engaged, the mind of the advocate should be disembarrassed
+and free,--not only free as regards the exercise of whatever knowledge
+and skill he may possess, not merely free from the supposition of any
+individual hazard the honest discharge of his duty might incur, but
+free from the greater thraldom of disturbed and irritated emotions,
+originating in the deepest sense of wounded honor.
+
+“Far be it from me, my Lords, long used in the practice of these courts,
+and long intimate with the righteous principle on which the laws are
+administered in them, to utter a syllable that in the remotest degree
+might seem to impugn the justice of the bench; but, a mere frail and
+erring creature, with feelings common to all around me, I wish to
+protest against continuing my client's case while your Lordships' bench
+is occupied by one who, in my person, has grossly outraged the sanctity
+of the law. Yes, my Lords,” said he, raising his voice, till the
+deep tones swelled and floated through the vast space, “as the humble
+advocate of a cause, I now proclaim that in addressing that bench, I
+am incapable to render justice to the case before me, so long as I see
+associated with your Lordships a man more worthy to figure in the dock
+than to take his seat among the ermined judges of the land. A moment
+more, my Lords. I am ready to make oath that the individual on your
+Lordships' left is Richard Forester, commonly called the Honorable
+Richard Forester;--how suitable the designation, your Lordships shall
+soon hear--”
+
+“I beg to interrupt my learned friend,” interposed the Attorney-General,
+rising. “He is totally in error; and I would wish to save him from the
+embarrassment of misdescription. The gentleman he alludes to is the Earl
+of Wallincourt, a peer of the realm.”
+
+“Proceed with your client's case, Mr. O'Halloran,” said the Chief
+Baron, who saw that to discuss the question further was now irrelevant.
+O'Halloran sat down, overwhelmed with rage; a whispered communication
+from behind told him that the Attorney-General was correct, and that
+Forester was removed beyond the reach of his vengeance. After a few
+moments he rallied, and again rose. Turning slowly over the pages of a
+voluminous brief, he stood waiting, with practised art, till expectancy
+had hushed each murmur around, when suddenly the crier called, “Way,
+there,--make way for the High Sheriff!” and that functionary, with a
+manner of excessive agitation, leaned over the bar, and addressed the
+bench. “My Lords, I most humbly entreat your Lordships' forgiveness for
+thus interrupting the business of the court; but the extreme emergency
+will, I hope, pardon the indecorum. A large vessel has struck on the
+rocks in the bay: each moment it is expected she must go to pieces. A
+panic seems to prevail among even our hardy fishermen; and my humble
+request is, that if there be any individual in this crowded assembly
+possessing naval knowledge, or any experience in calamities of this
+nature, he will aid us by his advice and co-operation.”
+
+The senior judge warmly approved the humane suggestion of the sheriff;
+and several persons were seen now forcing their way through the dense
+mass,--the far greater part, be it owned, more excited by curiosity than
+stimulated by any hope of rendering efficient service. Notwithstanding
+Bicknell's repeated entreaties, and remembrances of his late severe
+illness, Forester also quitted the court, and accompanied the sheriff
+to the beach. And now O'Halloran, whose impatience during this interval
+displayed little sympathy with the sad occasion of the interruption,
+asked, in a manner almost querulous, if their Lordships were ready to
+hear him? The court assented, and he began. Without once adverting to
+the subject on which he so lately addressed them, he opened his case by
+a species of narrative of the whole legal contest which for some time
+back had been maintained between the opposite parties in the present
+suit. Nothing could be more calm or more dispassionate than the estimate
+he formed of such struggles; neither inclining the balance to one party
+nor the other, but weighing with impartiality all the reasons that might
+prompt men on one side to continue a course of legal investigations,
+and the painful necessity on the other to provide a series of defences,
+costly, onerous, and harassing. “I have only to point out to the court
+the defendant in this action, to show how severe such a duty may become.
+Here, my Lords, beside me, site the gentleman, bowed down with more
+years than are allotted to humanity generally. Look upon him, and say if
+it be not difficult to determine what course to follow,--the abandonment
+of a just right, or its maintenance, at the cost of rendering the
+few last years--why do I say years?--days, hours, of a life careworn,
+distracted, and miserable!”
+
+Dwelling long enough on this theme to interest without wearying the
+jury, he adroitly addressed himself to the case of those who, by a
+system of litigious persecution, would seek to obtain by menace what
+they must despair of by law. Beginning by vague and wide generalities,
+he gradually accumulated a mass of allegations and inferences, which
+concentrating to a point, he suddenly checked himself, and said: “Now,
+my Lords, it may be supposed that I will imitate the delicate reserve of
+my learned friend opposite, and while filling your minds with dark and
+mysterious suspicions, profess a perfect ignorance of all intention to
+apply them. But I will not do this: I will be candid and free-spoken;
+nay, more, my Lords, I will finish what my learned friend has left
+incomplete; and I will proclaim to the court, and this jury, what he
+wished, but did not dare, to say,--that we, the defendants in this
+action, were not only cognizant of a forgery, but were associated in the
+act! There it is, my Lords; and I accept my learned friend's bland smile
+as the warm acknowledgment of the truth of my assertion. My learned
+friend is obliged to me. I see that he cannot conceal his joy at the
+inaptitude of my avowal. But we have a case, my Lords, that can happily
+dispense with the dexterity of an advocate, and make its truth felt,
+even through means as unskilful as mine. They disclaimed, it is
+true,--they disclaimed in words the wish to make this inference; but
+even take their disclaimer as such, and what is it? An avowal of their
+weakness, an open expression of the poverty of their proofs. Yes, my
+Lords, their disclaimers were like the ominous sounds which break from
+time to time upon our ear,--but signal-guns of distress. Like that fated
+vessel, whose sad destiny is perhaps this moment accomplishing, they
+have been storm-tossed and cast away,--their proud ensign torn, and
+their rudder gone, but, unlike her, they cannot brave their fate without
+seeking to involve others in the calamity.”
+
+A terrible gust of wind, so sudden and violent as to be like a
+thunderclap, now struck the building; and with one tremendous crash
+the great window of the court-house was driven in, and scattered in
+fragments of glass and timber throughout the court. A scene of the
+wildest confusion ensued, for almost immediately the lights became
+extinguished, and from the dark abyss arose a terrible chaos of voices
+in every agony of fear and suffering. Some announced that the roof
+was giving way and was about to crush them; others, in all the bodily
+torture of severe wounds, cried for help.
+
+It was nearly an hour before the court could resume its sitting, which
+at length was done in one of the adjoining courts, the usual scene
+of the criminal trials. Here, now, lights were procured, and after a
+considerable delay the cause proceeded. If the various events of the
+night, added to the fatigue of the day, had impressed both the bench
+and the jury with signs of greatest exhaustion, O'Halloran showed no
+evidence of abated vigor. On the contrary, like one whose vengeance had
+been thwarted by opposing accident, he exhibited a species of impatient
+ardor to resume his work of defamation. With a brief apology for any
+want of due coherence in an argument so frequently interrupted, he
+launched out into the most ferocious attack upon the plaintiff in
+the suit; and while repudiating the affected reserve of the opposite
+counsel, boldly proclaimed that they would not imitate it; nay, further,
+that they were only awaiting the sure verdict in their favor, to
+commence a criminal action against the parties for the very crime they
+dared to insinuate against them.
+
+“I shall now call my witnesses, my Lord; and if the Grand Cross of
+the Bath, which this day's paper tells me is to be conferred upon the
+plaintiff, be not meant, like the brand which foreign justice impresses
+on its felons, as a mark of ignominy, I am at a loss to understand how
+it has descended on this man. Call Nathaniel Leery.”
+
+The examination of the witnesses was in perfect keeping with the
+infamous scurrility of the speech, and the testimony elicited went
+to prove everything the advocate desired. Though exposed by
+cross-examination, and their perjury proved, O'Halloran kept a perpetual
+recapitulation of their assertions before the jury, and so artfully
+that few, save the practised minds of a legal auditory, could have
+distinguished in that confused web of truth and falsehood.
+
+The business proceeded with difficulty; for, added to the uproar of the
+storm, was a continued tumult of voices in the outer hall of the court,
+and where now several sailors, saved from the wreck, had been brought
+for shelter. By frequent loud cries from this quarter the court
+was interrupted, and more than once its proceedings completely
+arrested,--inconveniences which the judges submitted to with the most
+tolerant patience,--when at length a loud murmur arose, which gradually
+swelling louder and louder, all respect for the sacred precincts of the
+judgment-seat seemed lost in the wild tumult. In a tone of sharp reproof
+the Chief Baron called on the sheriff to allay the uproar, and if
+necessary, to clear the hall. The order was scarcely given, when one
+deafening shout was raised from the street, and, soon caught up, echoed
+by a thousand voices, while shrill cries of “He has saved them! he has
+saved them!” rent the air.
+
+“What means this, Mr. Sheriff?”
+
+“It is my Lord Wallincourt, my Lord, who has just rescued from the wreck
+three men who persisted in being lost together rather than separate.
+Hitherto only one man was taken at each trip of the boat; but this young
+nobleman offered a thousand pounds to the crew who would accompany him,
+and it appears they have succeeded.”
+
+“Really, my Lords,” said O'Halloran, who had heard the honorable mention
+of a hated name, “I must abandon my client's cause. These interruptions,
+which I conclude your influence is powerless to remove, have so
+interfered with the line of defence I had laid down for adoption, and
+have so confused the order of the proofs I had prepared, that I
+should but injure, and not serve, my respected client by continuing to
+represent his interests.”
+
+A bland assurance from the court that order should be rigidly enforced,
+and a pressing remonstrance from O'Reilly, overcame a resolve scarcely
+maturely taken, and he consented to go on.
+
+“We will now, my Lords,” said he, “call a very material witness,--a
+respectable tenant on the property,--who will prove that on a day in
+November, antecedent to Gleeson's death, he had a conversation with the
+Knight of Gwynne--Really, my Lords, I cannot proceed; this is no longer
+a court of justice.”
+
+The remainder of his words were lost in an uproar like that of the sea
+itself; and, like that element, the great mass swelled forward, and a
+rush of people from the outer hall bore into the court, till seats and
+barriers gave way before that overwhelming throng.
+
+For some minutes the scene was one of almost personal conflict. The mob,
+driven forward by those behind, were obliged to endure a buffeting by
+the more recognized possessors of the place; nor was it till police and
+military had lent their aid that the court was again restored to quiet,
+while several of the rioters were led off in custody.
+
+“Who are these men, and to what purpose are they here?” said the Chief
+Baron, as Bicknell officiously exerted himself to make way for some
+persons behind.
+
+“I come to tender my evidence in this cause,” said a deep, solemn
+voice, as a man advanced to the witness-table, displaying to the amazed
+assembly a bold, intrepid countenance, on which streaks of blue and
+yellow color were fantastically mingled, like the war-paint of a savage.
+
+“Who are you, sir?” rejoined O'Halloran, with his habitual scowl.
+
+“My name is Bagenal Daly. I believe their Lordships are not ignorant
+of my rank and station; and this gentleman at my side is also here to
+afford his testimony. This, my Lords, is Thomas Gleeson!”
+
+One cry of amazement rang through the assembly, through which a wild
+shriek pierced with a clear and terrible distinctness; and now the
+attention was suddenly turned towards old Hickman, who had fallen
+forward senseless on the table.
+
+“My client is very ill,--he is dangerously ill. My Lord, I beg to
+suggest an adjournment of the cause,” said O'Halloran; while O'Reilly,
+with a face like death, continued to whisper eagerly in his ear. “I
+appeal to the plaintiff himself, if he be here, and is not devoid of the
+feelings attributed to him, and I ask that the cause may be adjourned.”
+
+“It is not a case in which the defendant's illness can be made use of
+to press such a demand,” said one of the judges, mildly; “but if the
+opposite party consent--”
+
+“He is worse, my Lord.”
+
+“I say, if the opposite party--”
+
+“He is dead!” said O'Halloran, solemnly; and letting go the lifeless
+hand, it fell with a heavy bang upon the table.
+
+“Take your verdict,” said O'Halloran, with the look of a demon; and,
+bursting his way through the crowd, disappeared.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXVIII. CONCLUSION
+
+When Forester entered the Knight's room in the inn, where, in calm
+quietude, he sat awaiting the verdict, he hesitated for a moment how he
+should break the joyful tidings of Daly's arrival.
+
+“Speak out,” said Darcy. “If not exactly without hope, I am well
+prepared for the worst.”
+
+“Can you say you are equally ready to hear the best?” asked Forester,
+eagerly.
+
+“The best is a very strong word, my young friend,” said Darcy, gravely.
+
+“And yet, I speak advisedly,--the best.”
+
+“If so, perhaps I am not so prepared. My heart has dwelt so long on
+these troubles, recognizing them as I felt they must be, that I would,
+perhaps, ask a little time to think how I should hear tidings so remote
+from all expectation. Of course, I do not speak of the mere verdict
+here.”
+
+“Nor I,” interposed Forester, impatiently. “I speak of what restores you
+to your ancient house and rank, your station and your fortune.”
+
+“Can this be true?”
+
+“Ay, Maurice, every word of it,” broke in Daly, who, having listened so
+far, could no longer restrain himself. The two old men fell into each
+other's arms with all the cordial affection with which they had embraced
+as schoolfellows sixty years before.
+
+Great as was Darcy's amazement at seeing his oldest friend thus suddenly
+restored, it was nothing in comparison to what he felt as Daly narrated
+the event of the shipwreck, and his rescue from the sinking vessel by
+Forester.
+
+“And your companions, who were they?” asked Darcy, eagerly.
+
+“You shall hear.”
+
+“I guess one of them already,” interposed the Knight “The trusty Sandy.
+Is it not so?”
+
+“The other you will never hit upon,” said Daly, nodding an assent.
+
+“I 'm thinking over all our friends, and yet none seem likely.”
+
+“Come, Maurice, prepare yourself for surprise. What think you, if he to
+whose fate I had linked myself, resolving that, live or die, we should
+not separate,--if this man was--Gleeson--honest Tom Gleeson?”
+
+The words seemed stunning in their effect; for Darey leaned back,
+and passing his hands over his closed lids, murmured, “I hope my poor
+faculties are not wandering,--I trust this may be no delusion.”
+
+“He is yonder,” said Daly, taking the Knight's hand in his strong grasp;
+“Sandy mounts guard over him. Not that the poor devil thinks of or
+desires escape; he was too weary of a life of deception and sin when
+we caught him, to wish to prolong it. Now rouse yourself, and listen to
+me.”
+
+It would doubtless be a heavy tax on our kind reader's patience were
+we to relate, circumstantially, the conversation, that, now commencing,
+lasted during the entire night and till late in the following morning.
+Enough if we say that Daly, having, through Freney's instrumentality,
+discovered that Gleeson had not committed suicide, but only spread this
+rumor for concealment's sake, resolved to pursue him to America. Fearing
+that any suspicion of his object might escape, he did not even
+trust Bicknell with the secret; but by suffering him to continue
+law proceedings as before, totally blinded the Hickmans as to the
+possibility of the event.
+
+It would in itself be a tale of marvel to recount the strange adventures
+which Daly encountered in his search and pursuit of Gleeson, who had
+originally taken up his residence in the States, was recognized there,
+and fled into Canada, where he wandered about from place to place,
+conscience-stricken and miserable. He was wretchedly poor, besides;
+for on the bills and securities he carried away, many being on eminent
+houses in America, payment was stopped, and being unable to risk
+proceedings, he was reduced to beggary.
+
+It now appeared that at a very early period of life, when a clerk in the
+office of old Hickman's agent, he had committed a forgery. It was for
+a small sum, and only done in anticipation of meeting the bill by his
+salary due a few weeks later. So far the fraud was palliated by the
+intention. By some mischance the document fell into the possession of
+Dr. Hickman, whose name it falsely bore. He immediately took steps to
+trace its origin, and having succeeded, he sent for Gleeson. When the
+youth, pale and terror-stricken by suspicion, made his appearance, he
+was amazed that, instead of finding a prosecutor ready prepared for his
+ruin, he discovered a benevolent patron, who, having long watched the
+zeal and assiduity with which he discharged his duties, desired to be
+of use to him in life. Hickman told him that if he were disposed to make
+the venture on his own account, he would use his influence to procure
+him some small agencies, and even assist him with funds, to make
+advances to those landlords who might employ him. The interview lasted
+long. There was much excellent advice and wise admonition on one side,
+profuse expression of gratitude and lasting fidelity on the other.
+“Very well, very well,” said old Hickman, at the close of a very devoted
+speech, in which Gleeson professed the most attached and the most
+honorable motives,--for he was not at all aware that his bill was known
+of,--“I am not ignorant of mankind; they are rarely, if ever, very bad
+or very good; they can be occasionally faithful to their friends;
+but there is one thing they are always--careful of themselves. See
+this,”--here he took from his pocket-book the forged paper, and held it
+before the almost sinking youth,--“there is what can bring you to the
+gallows any day! Is this the first time?”
+
+“It is, so help me--” cried he, falling on his knees.
+
+“Never mind swearing. I believe you. And the last also?”
+
+“And the last!”
+
+“I see it must be, by the date,” rejoined Hickman.
+
+“I can pay it, sir; I have the money ready--on Tuesday--”
+
+“Never mind that,” replied Hickman, folding it up, and replacing it in
+the pocket-book. “You shall pay me in something better than money,--in
+gratitude. Come and dine with me alone to-day, and we 'll talk over the
+future.”
+
+It has never been our taste to present pictures of depravity to our
+readers; we would more willingly turn from them, or, where that is
+impossible, make them as sketchy as may be. It will be sufficient,
+then, if we say that Gleeson's whole career was the plan and creation
+of Hickman. The rigid and scrupulous honor, the spotless decorum, the
+unshaken probity, were all devices to win public confidence and
+esteem. That they were eminently successful, the epithet of “honest Tom
+Gleeson,” by which he was universally known, is the guarantee. The union
+of such qualities with consummate skill and the most unwearied zeal soon
+made him the most distinguished man in his walk, and made his services
+not only an evidence of success, but of a rectitude in obtaining success
+that men of character prized still more highly.
+
+Possessed of the titles of immense estates, invested with unbounded
+confidence by the owners, cognizant of every legal flaw that
+could excite uneasiness, aware of every hitch and strait of their
+circumstances, he was less the servant than the master of those who
+employed him.
+
+It was a period when habits of extravagance prevailed to the widest
+extent. The proprietors of estates deemed spending their incomes their
+only duty, and left its cares to the agents. The only reproach, then,
+ever laid to Gleeson's door was that when a question of a sale or a
+loan was agitated, honest Tom's scruples were often a most troublesome
+impediment to his less scrupulous employer. In fact, Gleeson stood
+before the public as a kind of guardian of estated property,--the
+providence of dowagers, widows, and younger children!
+
+Such a man, with his neck in a halter, at any moment at the mercy of
+old Dr. Hickman, was an agent for ruin almost inconceivable. Through his
+instrumentality the old usurer laid out his immense stores of wealth
+at enormous interest, obtained possession of vast estates at a mere
+fraction of their worth, till at length, grown hardy by long impunity,
+and daring by the recognition of the world, bolder expedients were
+ventured on. Darcy's ruin was long the cherished dream of Hickman; and
+when, after many a wily scheme and long negotiation, he saw Gleeson
+engaged as his agent, he felt certain of victory. His first scheme was
+to make Gleeson encourage young Lionel in every project of extravagance,
+by putting his name to bills, assuring him that his father permitted him
+an almost unlimited expenditure. This course once entered upon, and well
+aware that the young man kept no record of such transactions, his name
+was forged to several acceptances of large amount, and, subsequently, to
+sales of property to meet them.
+
+Meanwhile great loans were raised by Darcy to pay off incumbrances,
+and never so employed; till, at length, the Knight decided upon the
+negotiation which was to clear off Hickman's mortgage,--the debt, of all
+others, he hated most to think of. So quietly was this carried on, that
+Hickman heard nothing of it; for Gleeson, long wearied by a life of
+treachery and perfidy, and never knowing the day or the hour when
+disclosure might come, had resolved on escaping to America with this
+large sum of money, leaving his colleague in crime to carry on business
+alone.
+
+“The Doctor” was not, however, to be thus duped. Secret and silent as
+the arrangements for flight were, he heard of them all; and hastening
+out to Gleeson's house, coolly told him that any attempt at escape would
+bring him to the gallows. Gleeson attempted a denial. He alleged that
+his intended going over to England was merely on account of this sum,
+which Darcy was negotiating for, to pay off the mortgage.
+
+A new light broke on Hickman. He saw that his terrified confederate
+could not much longer be relied upon, and it was agreed between them
+that Gleeson should pay the money to redeem the mortgage, and, having
+obtained the release, show it to the Knight of Gwynne. This done, he was
+to carry it back to Hickman, and, for the sum of £10,000, replace it in
+his hands, thus enabling the doctor to deny the payment and foreclose
+the mortgage, while honest Tom, weary of perfidy, and seeking repose,
+should follow his original plan, and escape to America.
+
+The money was paid, as Freney surmised and Daly believed; but Gleeson,
+still dreading some act of treachery, instead of returning the release
+and claiming the price, started a day earlier than he promised. The rest
+is known to the reader. Whether the Hickmans credited the story of
+the suicide or not, they were never quite free of the terror of a
+disclosure; and, in pressing the matrimonial arrangement, hoped forever
+to set at rest the disputed possession.
+
+It would probably not interest our readers were we to dwell longer on
+Gleeson or his motives. That some vague intention existed of one day
+restoring to Darcy the release of his mortgage, is perhaps not unlikely.
+A latent spark of honor, long buried beneath the ashes of crime, often
+shines out brightly in the last hour of existence. There might be,
+too, a cherished project of vengeance against the man that tempted and
+destroyed him. Be it as it may, he guarded the document as though it had
+been his last hope; and when tracked, pursued, and overtaken near
+Fort Erie by a party of the Delawares, of whom the Howling Wind, alias
+Bagenal Daly, was chief, it was found stitched up in the breast of his
+waistcoat.
+
+Our space does not permit us to dwell upon Bagenal Daly's adventures,
+though we may assure our readers that they were both wild and wonderful.
+One only regret darkened the happiness of his exploit. It was that he
+was compelled so soon to leave the pleasant society of the Red
+Skins, and the intellectual companionship of “Blue Fox” and “Hissing
+Lightning;” while Sandy, discovering himself to be a widower, would
+gladly have contracted new ties, to cement the alliance of the ancient
+house of M'Grane with that of the Royal Family of Hickinbooke, or
+the “Slimy Whip Snake,” a fair princess of which had bid high for his
+affections. Indeed, the worthy Sandy had become romantic on the subject,
+and suggested that if the lady would condescend to adopt certain
+articles of attire, he would have no objection to take her back to “The
+Corvy.” These were sacrifices, however, that not even love was called
+upon to make, and the project was abortive.
+
+[Illustration: 458]
+
+So far have we condensed Bagenal Daly's narrative, which, orally
+delivered, lasted till the sun was high and the morning fine and bright.
+He had only concluded, when a servant in O'Reilly's livery brought
+a letter, which he said was to be given to the Knight of Gwynne, but
+required no answer. Its contents were the following:--
+
+Sir,--The melancholy catastrophe of yesterday evening might excuse me
+in your eyes from any attention to the claims of mere business. But the
+discovery of certain documents lately in the possession of my father
+demand at my hands the most prompt and complete reparation. I now know,
+sir, that we were unjustly possessed of an estate and property that
+were yours. I also know that severe wrongs have been inflicted upon you
+through the instrumentality of my family. I have only to make the
+best amende in my power, by immediately restoring the one, and asking
+forgiveness for the other. If you can and will accord me the pardon I
+seek, I shall, as soon as the sad duties which devolve upon me here are
+completed, leave this country for the Continent, never to return. I have
+already given directions to my legal adviser to confer with Mr Bicknell;
+and no step will be omitted to secure a safe and speedy restoration
+of your house and estate to its rightful owner. In deep humiliation, I
+remain
+
+Your obedient servant,
+
+H. O'Reilly.
+
+“Poor fellow!” said Darcy, throwing down the letter before Daly; “he
+seems to have been no party to the fraud, and yet all the penalty falls
+upon him.”
+
+“Have no pity for the upstart rascal, Maurice; I 'll wager a
+hundred--thank Heaven, Mr. Gleeson has put me in possession of a
+few--that he was as deep as his father. Give me this paper, and I 'll
+ask honest Tom the question.”
+
+“Not so, Bagenal; I should be sorry to think worse of any man than I
+must do. Let him have at least the benefit of a doubt; and as to honest
+Tom, set him at liberty: we no longer want him; the papers he has given
+are quite sufficient,--more than we are ever like to need.”
+
+Daly had no fancy for relinquishing his hold of the game that cost him
+so much trouble to take; but the Knight's words were usually a law to
+him, and with a muttering remark of “I 'll do it because I 'll have my
+eye on him,” he left the room to liberate his captive.
+
+“There he goes,” exclaimed Daly, as, re-entering the room, he saw a
+chaise rapidly drive from the door,--“there he goes, Maurice; and I own
+to you I have an easier conscience for having let loose Freney on the
+world than for liberating honest Tom Gleeson; but who have we here, with
+four smoking posters?--ladies too!”
+
+A travelling-carriage drew up at the door of the little inn, and
+immediately three ladies descended. “That 's Maria,” cried Daly, rushing
+from the room, and at once returned with his sister, Lady Eleanor, and
+Miss Darcy.
+
+Miss Daly had, three days before, received a letter from
+
+Bagenal, detailing his capture of Gleeson, and informing her that he
+hoped to be back in Ireland almost as soon as his letter. With these
+tidings she hastened to Lady Eleanor, and concerted the journey which
+now brought them all together.
+
+Story-tellers have but scant privilege to linger where all is happiness,
+unbroken and perfect. Like Mother Cary's chickens, their province is
+rather with menacing storm than the signs of fair weather. We have,
+then, but space to say that a more delighted party never met than those
+who now assembled in that little inn; but one face showed any signs of
+passing sorrow,--that was poor Forester's. The general joy, to which he
+had so much contributed by his exertions, rather threw a gloomier shade
+over his own unhappiness; and in secret he resolved to say “Good-bye”
+ that same evening.
+
+Amid a thousand plans for the future, all tinged with their own bright
+color, they sat round the fire at evening, when Miss Daly, whose
+affection for the youth was strengthened by what she had seen during
+his illness, remarked that he alone seemed exempt from the general
+happiness.
+
+“To whom we owe so much,” said Lady Eleanor, kindly. “My husband is
+indebted to him for his life.”
+
+“I can say as much, too,” said Daly; “not to speak of Gleeson's
+gratitude.”
+
+“Nay!” exclaimed the young man, blushing, “I did not know the service I
+was rendering. I little guessed how grateful I should myself have reason
+to be for being its instrument.”
+
+“All this is very well,” said Miss Daly, abruptly; “but it is not
+honest,--no, it is not honest. There are other feelings concerned here
+than such amiable generalities as Joy, Pity, and Gratitude. Don't frown,
+Helen,--that is better, love,--a smile becomes you to perfection.”
+
+“I must stop you,” said Forester, blushing deeply. “It will be enough
+if I say that any observation you can make must give me the deepest
+pain,--not for myself--”
+
+“But for Helen? I don't believe it. You may be a very sharp politician
+and a very brave soldier, but you know very little about young ladies.
+Yes, there 'a no denying it,-their game is all deceit.”
+
+“Oh! Colonel Darcy--Lady Eleanor, will you not speak a word?” exclaimed
+Forester, pale and agitated.
+
+“A hundred, my dear boy,” cried the Knight, “if they would serve you;
+but Helen's one is worth them all.”
+
+“Miss Darcy, dare I hope? Helen, dearest!” added he, in a whisper, as,
+taking her hand, he led her towards a window.
+
+“My Lord, the carriage is ready,” said his servant, throwing wide the
+door.
+
+“You may order the horses back again,” said Daly, dryly; “my Lord is not
+going this evening.”
+
+Has our reader ever made a long voyage? Has he ever experienced in
+himself the strange but most complete alteration in all his sentiments
+and feelings when far away from land,--on the wild, bleak waters,--and
+that same “himself,” when in sight of shore, with seaweed around the
+prow, and land-breezes on his cheek? But a few hours back and that
+ship was his world; he knew her from “bow to taffrail;” he greeted the
+cook's galley as though it were the “restaurant” his heart delighted in;
+he even felt a kind of friendship for the pistons as they jerked up and
+down into a bowing acquaintance. But now how changed are his sentiments,
+how fixedly are his eyes turned to the pier of the harbor, and how
+impatient is he at those tacking zigzag approaches by which nautical
+skill and care approximate the goal!
+
+Already landed in imagination, the cautious manouvres of the crew are
+an actual martyrdom; he has no bowels for anything save his own
+enfranchisement, and he cannot comprehend the tiresome detail of
+preparations, which, after all, perhaps, are scarcely five minutes
+in endurance. At last, the gangway launched, see him, how he
+elbows forward, fighting his way, carpet-bag in hand, regardless of
+passport-people, police, and porters; he'll scarce take time to mutter a
+“Good-bye, Captain,” in the haste to leave a scene all whose interest is
+over, whose adventure is past.
+
+Such is the end of a voyage; and such, or very nearly such, the end of
+a novel! You, most amiable reader, are the passenger, we the skipper.
+A few weeks ago you deemed us tolerable company, _faute de mieux_,
+perhaps. We 'll not ask why, at all events. We had you out on the wide,
+wild waters of uncertainty, free to sail where'er our fancy listed.
+In our very waywardness there was a mock semblance of power, for the
+creatures we presented to you were our own, their lives and fortunes in
+our hands. Now all that is over,--we have neared the shore, and all our
+hold on you is bygone.
+
+How can we hope to excite interest in events already accomplished? Why
+linger over details which you have already filled up? Of course, say
+you, all ends happily now. Virtue is rewarded--as novelists understand
+rewarding--by matrimony, and vice punished in single blessedness. The
+hero marries the heroine; and if they don't live happy, etc.
+
+But what became of Bagenal Daly? says some one who would compliment us
+by expressing so much of interest. Bagenal, then, only waited to see the
+Knight restored to his own, to retire with his sister to “The Corvy,”
+ where, attended by Sandy, he passed the remainder of his days in peace
+and quietude; his greatest enjoyment being to seize on a chance tourist
+to the Causeway, and make him listen to narratives of his early life,
+but which age had now so far commingled that the merely strange became
+actually marvellous.
+
+Paul Dempsey grieved for a week, but consoled himself on hearing
+that his rival had been a “lord;” and subsequently, in a “moment of
+enthusiasm,” he married Mrs. Fumbally. The Hickmans left Ireland for the
+Continent, where they are still to be found, rambling about from city
+to city, and expressing the utmost sympathy with their country's
+misfortunes, but, to avoid any admixture of meaner feeling, suffering no
+taint of lucre to mingle with their compassion.
+
+As for Lionel Darcy, his name is to be found in the despatches from the
+East, and with a mention that shows that he has derogated in nothing
+from the proud character of his race.
+
+Of all those who figured before our reader, but one remains on the stage
+where they all performed; and he, perhaps, has no claim to be especially
+remembered. There is always, however, somewhat of respectability
+attached to the oldest inhabitant, that chronicler of cold winters and
+warm summers, of rainy springs and stormy Octobers. Con Heffernan,
+then, lives, and still wields no inconsiderable share of his ancient
+influence. Each party has discovered his treachery, but neither can
+dispense with his services. He is the last link remaining between the
+men of Ireland's “great day” and the very different race who now usurp
+the direction of her destiny.
+
+Of the period of which we have endeavored to picture some meagre
+resemblance, unhappily the few traces remaining are those most to be
+deplored. The poverty, the misery, and the anarchy survive; the genial
+hospitality, the warm attachment to country, the cordial generosity of
+Irish feeling, have sadly declined. Let us hope that from the depth
+of our present sufferings better days are about to dawn, and a period
+approaching when Ireland shall be “great” in the happiness of her
+people, “glorious” in the development of her inexhaustible resources,
+and “free” by that best of freedom,--free from the trammels of an
+unmeaning party warfare, which has ever subjected the welfare of the
+country to the miserable intrigues of a few adventurers.
+
+THE END.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Knight Of Gwynne, Vol. II (of II), by
+Charles James Lever
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