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diff --git a/40126-0.txt b/40126-0.txt index 8d252cb..70b10d6 100644 --- a/40126-0.txt +++ b/40126-0.txt @@ -1,37 +1,4 @@ -Project Gutenberg's The Cock and Anchor, by Joseph Sheridan Le Fanu - -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 Cock and Anchor - -Author: Joseph Sheridan Le Fanu - -Illustrator: Brinsley Le Fanu - -Release Date: July 2, 2012 [EBook #40126] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: UTF-8 - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE COCK AND ANCHOR *** - - - - -Produced by Suzanne Shell and the Online Distributed -Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was -produced from images generously made available by The -Internet Archive/Canadian Libraries) - - - - - +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 40126 *** [Illustration: "'Farewell, my lord!' said Swift, abruptly." _Frontispiece_.] @@ -17477,361 +17444,4 @@ GILBERT AND RIVINGTON, LD., ST. JOHN'S HOUSE, CLERKENWELL. 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\ No newline at end of file +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 40126 *** diff --git a/40126-0.zip b/40126-0.zip Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index 34b8fcc..0000000 --- a/40126-0.zip +++ /dev/null diff --git a/40126-8.txt b/40126-8.txt deleted file mode 100644 index e7f6554..0000000 --- a/40126-8.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,17837 +0,0 @@ -Project Gutenberg's The Cock and Anchor, by Joseph Sheridan Le Fanu - -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 Cock and Anchor - -Author: Joseph Sheridan Le Fanu - -Illustrator: Brinsley Le Fanu - -Release Date: July 2, 2012 [EBook #40126] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE COCK AND ANCHOR *** - - - - -Produced by Suzanne Shell and the Online Distributed -Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was -produced from images generously made available by The -Internet Archive/Canadian Libraries) - - - - - - - [Illustration: "'Farewell, my lord!' said Swift, abruptly." - _Frontispiece_.] - - -The Cock And Anchor - - -By - -Joseph Sheridan Le Fanu - - -Illustrated by -Brinsley Le Fanu - - -Downey & Co. -12 York St. -Covent Garden. - -(1895) - - - - -NOTE. - - -"THE COCK AND ANCHOR: a Chronicle of Old Dublin City," was first -published in Dublin in three volumes in 1845, with the joint imprints -of William Curry, Junior, & Co., Dublin; Longman, Brown, Green & -Longmans, London; and Fraser & Co., Edinburgh. There is no author's -name on the title-page of the original edition. The work has not since -been reprinted under the title of "The Cock and Anchor;" but some years -after its first appearance my father made several alterations (most of -which are adhered to in the present edition) in the story, and it was -re-issued in the Select Library of Fiction under the title of "Morley -Court." - -The novel has been out of print for a long period, and I have decided -to republish it now under its original and proper title. I have made -no changes in such dates as are mentioned here and there in the course -of the narrative, but the reader should bear in mind that this -"Chronicle of Old Dublin City" was written fifty years ago. - -BRINSLEY SHERIDAN LE FANU. - -_London, July, 1895._ - - - - -CONTENTS. - - -CHAPTER PAGE - - I.--THE "COCK AND ANCHOR" 1 - - II.--A BED IN THE "COCK AND ANCHOR" 6 - - III.--THE LITTLE MAN 10 - - IV.--A SCARLET HOOD 14 - - V.--O'CONNOR'S MOONLIGHT WALK 23 - - VI.--THE SOLDIER 28 - - VII.--THREE GRIM FIGURES 36 - - VIII.--THE WARNING 40 - - IX.--THE "BLEEDING HORSE" 44 - - X.--THE MASTER OF MORLEY COURT 51 - - XI.--THE OLD BEECH TREE WALK 62 - - XII.--THE APPOINTED HOUR 72 - - XIII.--THE INTERVIEW 75 - - XIV.--ABOUT A CERTAIN GARDEN AND A DAMSEL 83 - - XV.--THE TRAITOR 88 - - XVI.--SIGNOR PARUCCI ALONE 92 - - XVII.--DUBLIN CASTLE BY NIGHT 99 - - XVIII.--THE TWO COUSINS 106 - - XIX.--THE THEATRE 110 - - XX.--THE LODGING 116 - - XXI.--WHO APPEARED TO MARY ASHWOODE 122 - - XXII.--THE SPINET 125 - - XXIII.--THE DARK ROOM 131 - - XXIV.--A CRITIC 135 - - XXV.--THE COMBAT AND ITS ISSUE 140 - - XXVI.--THE HELL 143 - - XXVII.--THE DEPARTURE OF THE PEER 151 - - XXVIII.--THE THUNDER-STORM 154 - - XXIX.--THE CRONES 157 - - XXX.--SKY-COPPER COURT 163 - - XXXI.--THE USURER AND THE OAKEN BOX 168 - - XXXII.--THE DIABOLIC WHISPER 171 - - XXXIII.--HOW SIR HENRY ASHWOODE PLAYED AND PLOTTED 174 - - XXXIV.--THE "OLD ST. COLUMBKIL" 178 - - XXXV.--THE COUSIN AND THE BLACK CABINET 184 - - XXXVI.--JEWELS, PLATE, HORSES, DOGS 189 - - XXXVII.--THE RECKONING 191 - -XXXVIII.--STRANGE GUESTS AT THE MANOR 196 - - XXXIX.--THE BARGAIN 199 - - XL.--DREAMS 204 - - XLI.--A CERTAIN TRAVELLING ECCLESIASTIC 208 - - XLII.--THE SQUIRES 212 - - XLIII.--THE WILD WOOD 217 - - XLIV.--THE DOOM 222 - - XLV.--THE MAN IN THE CLOAK 226 - - XLVI.--THE DOUBLE CONFERENCE 231 - - XLVII.--THE "JOLLY BOWLERS" 236 - - XLVIII.--THE STAINED RUFFLES 241 - - XLIX.--OLD SONGS 246 - - L.--THE PRESS IN THE WALL 252 - - LI.--FLORA GUY 259 - - LII.--MARY ASHWOODE'S WALK 262 - - LIII.--THE DOUBLE FAREWELL 266 - - LIV.--THE TWO CHANCES 273 - - LV.--THE FEARFUL VISITANT 277 - - LVI.--EBENEZER SHYCOCK 280 - - LVII.--THE CHAPLAIN'S ARRIVAL AT MORLEY COURT 284 - - LVIII.--THE SIGNAL 290 - - LIX.--HASTE AND PERIL 296 - - LX.--THE UNTREASURED CHAMBER 299 - - LXI.--THE CART AND THE STRAW 302 - - LXII.--THE COUNCIL 308 - - LXIII.--PARTING 311 - - LXIV.--MISTRESS MARTHA AND BLACK M'GUINNESS 315 - - LXV.--THE CONFERENCE 319 - - LXVI.--THE BED-CHAMBER 322 - - LXVII.--THE EXPULSION 327 - - LXVIII.--THE FRAY 332 - - LXIX.--THE BOLTED WINDOW 337 - - LXX.--THE BARONET'S ROOM 341 - - LXXI.--THE FAREWELL 345 - - LXXII.--THE ROPE AND THE RIOT 349 - - LXXIII.--THE LAST LOOK 354 - - CONCLUSION 357 - - - - -LIST OF FULL PAGE ILLUSTRATIONS. - - -"Farewell, my lord," said Swift, abruptly _Frontispiece_ - -Threw himself luxuriously into a capacious - leather-bottomed chair _to face page_ 4 - -Again the conqueror crowed the shrill - note of victory " 34 - -Parucci approached the prostrate figure " 156 - -"Painted! varnished!" she screamed hysterically " 188 - -He made his way to the aperture " 223 - -Glide noiselessly behind Chancey " 293 - -Driven to bay ... he drew his sword " 338 - -His horse, snorting loudly, checked his pace " 354 - - - - -THE "COCK AND ANCHOR." - - - - -CHAPTER I. - -THE "COCK AND ANCHOR"--TWO HORSEMEN--AND A SUPPER BY THE INN FIRE. - - -Some time within the first ten years of the last century, there stood -in the fair city of Dublin, and in one of those sinuous and narrow -streets which lay in the immediate vicinity of the Castle, a goodly and -capacious hostelry, snug and sound, and withal carrying in its aspect -something staid and aristocratic, and perhaps in nowise the less -comfortable that it was rated, in point of fashion, somewhat obsolete. -Its structure was quaint and antique; so much so, that had its -counterpart presented itself within the precincts of "the Borough," it -might fairly have passed itself off for the genuine old Tabard of -Geoffry Chaucer. - -The front of the building, facing the street, rested upon a row of -massive wooden blocks, set endwise, at intervals of some six or eight -feet, and running parallel at about the same distance, to the wall of -the lower story of the house, thus forming a kind of rude cloister or -open corridor, running the whole length of the building. - -The spaces between these rude pillars were, by a light frame-work of -timber, converted into a succession of arches; and by an application of -the same ornamental process, the ceiling of this extended porch was -made to carry a clumsy but not unpicturesque imitation of groining. -Upon this open-work of timber, as we have already said, rested the -second story of the building; protruding beyond which again, and -supported upon beams whose projecting ends were carved into the -semblance of heads hideous as the fantastic monsters of heraldry, arose -the third story, presenting a series of tall and fancifully-shaped -gables, decorated, like the rest of the building, with an abundance of -grotesque timber-work. A wide passage, opening under the corridor which -we have described, gave admission into the inn-yard, surrounded partly -by the building itself, and partly by the stables and other offices -connected with it. Viewed from a little distance, the old fabric -presented by no means an unsightly or ungraceful aspect: on the -contrary, its very irregularities and antiquity, however in reality -objectionable, gave to it an air of comfort and almost of dignity to -which many of its more pretending and modern competitors might in vain -have aspired. Whether it was, that from the first the substantial -fabric had asserted a conscious superiority over all the minor -tenements which surrounded it, or that they in modest deference had -gradually conceded to it the prominence which it deserved--whether, in -short, it had always stood foremost, or that the street had slightly -altered its course and gradually receded, leaving it behind, an -immemorial and immovable landmark by which to measure the encroachments -of ages--certain it is, that at the time we speak of, the sturdy -hostelry stood many feet in advance of the line of houses which flanked -it on either side, narrowing the street with a most aristocratic -indifference to the comforts of the pedestrian public, thus forced to -shift for life and limb, as best they might, among the vehicles and -horses which then thronged the city streets--no doubt, too, often by -the very difficulties which it presented, entrapping the over-cautious -passenger, who preferred entering the harbour which its hospitable and -capacious doorway offered, to encountering all the perils involved in -doubling the point. - -Such as we have attempted to describe it, the old building stood more -than a century since; and when the level sunbeams at eventide glinted -brightly on its thousand miniature window panes, and upon the broad -hanging panel, which bore, in the brightest hues and richest gilding, -the portraiture of a Cock and Anchor; and when the warm, discoloured -glow of sunset touched the time-worn front of the old building with a -rich and cheery blush, even the most fastidious would have allowed that -the object was no unpleasing one. - -A dark autumnal night had closed over the old city of Dublin, and the -wind was blustering in hoarse gusts through the crowded -chimney-stacks--careening desolately through the dim streets, and -occasionally whirling some loose tile or fragment of plaster from the -house tops. The streets were silent and deserted, except when -occasionally traversed by some great man's carriage, thundering and -clattering along the broken pavement, and by its passing glare and -rattle making the succeeding darkness and silence but the more dreary. -None stirred abroad who could avoid it; and with the exception of such -rare interruptions as we have mentioned, the storm and darkness held -undisputed possession of the city. Upon this ungenial night, and -somewhat past the hour of ten, a well-mounted traveller rode into the -narrow and sheltered yard of the "Cock and Anchor;" and having bestowed -upon the groom who took the bridle of his steed such minute and anxious -directions as betokened a kind and knightly tenderness for the comforts -of his good beast, he forthwith entered the public room of the inn--a -large and comfortable chamber, having at the far end a huge hearth -overspanned by a broad and lofty mantelpiece of stone, and now sending -forth a warm and ruddy glow, which penetrated in genial streams to -every recess and corner of the room, tinging the dark wainscoting of -the walls, glinting red and brightly upon the burnished tankards and -flagons with which the cupboard was laden, and playing cheerily over -the massive beams which traversed the ceiling. Groups of men, variously -occupied and variously composed, embracing all the usual company of a -well frequented city tavern--from the staid and sober man of business, -who smokes his pipe in peace, to the loud disputatious, half-tipsy town -idler, who calls for more flagons than he can well reckon, and then -quarrels with mine host about the shot--were disposed, some singly, -others in social clusters, in cosy and luxurious ease at the stout oak -tables which occupied the expansive chamber. Among these the stranger -passed leisurely to a vacant table in the neighbourhood of the good -fire, and seating himself thereat, doffed his hat and cloak, thereby -exhibiting a finely proportioned and graceful figure, and a face of -singular nobleness and beauty. He might have seen some thirty -summers--perhaps less--but his dark and expressive features bore a -character of resolution and melancholy which seemed to tell of more -griefs and perils overpast than men so young in the world can generally -count. - -The new-comer, having thrown his hat and gloves upon the table at which -he had placed himself, stretched his stalwart limbs toward the fire in -the full enjoyment of its genial influence, and advancing the heels of -his huge jack boots nearly to the bars, he seemed for a time wholly -lost in the comfortable contemplation of the red embers which -flickered, glowed, and shifted before his eyes. From his quiet reverie -he was soon recalled by mine host in person, who, with all courtesy, -desired to know "whether his honour wished supper and a bed?" Both -questions were promptly answered in the affirmative: and before many -minutes the young horseman was deep in the discussion of a glorious -pasty, flanked by a flagon of claret, such as he had seldom tasted -before. He had scarcely concluded his meal, when another traveller, -cloaked, booted, and spurred, and carrying under his arm a pair of long -horse-pistols, and a heavy whip, entered the apartment, walked straight -up to the fire-place, and having obtained permission of the cavalier -already established there to take share of his table, he deposited -thereon the formidable weapons which he carried, cast his hat, gloves, -and cloak upon the floor, and threw himself luxuriously into a -capacious leather-bottomed chair which confronted the cheery fire. - - [Illustration: "Threw himself luxuriously into a capacious, - leather-bottomed chair." - _To face page 4._] - -"A bleak night, sir, and a dark, for a ride of twenty miles," observed -the stranger, addressing the younger guest. - -"I can the more readily agree with you, sir," replied the latter, -"seeing that I myself have ridden nigh forty, and am but just arrived." - -"Whew! that beats me hollow," cried the other, with a kind of -self-congratulatory shrug. "You see, sir, we never know how to thank -our stars for the luck we _have_ until we come to learn what luck we -might have had. I rode from Wicklow--pray, sir, if it be not too bold a -question, what line did you travel?" - -"The Cork road." - -"Ha! that's an ugly line they say to travel by night. You met with no -interruption?" - -"Troth, but I _did_, sir," replied the young man, "and none of the -pleasantest either. I was stopped, and put in no small peril, too." - -"How! stopped--stopped on the highway! By the mass, you outdo me in -every point! Would you, sir, please to favour me, if 'twere not too -much trouble, with the facts of the adventure--the particulars?" - -"Faith, sir," rejoined the young man, "as far as my knowledge serves -me, you are welcome to them all. When I was still about twelve miles -from this, I was joined from a by-road by a well mounted, and (as far -as I could discern) a respectable-looking traveller, who told me he -rode for Dublin, and asked to join company by the way. I assented; and -we jogged on pleasantly enough for some two or three miles. It was very -dark----" - -"As pitch," ejaculated the stranger, parenthetically. - -"And what little scope of vision I might have had," continued the -younger traveller, "was well nigh altogether obstructed by the constant -flapping of my cloak, blown by the storm over my face and eyes. I -suddenly became conscious that we had been joined by a third horseman, -who, in total silence, rode at my other side." - -"How and when did _he_ come up with you?" - -"I can't say," replied the narrator--"nor did his presence give me the -smallest uneasiness. He who had joined me first, all at once called out -that his stirrup strap was broken, and halloo'd to me to rein in until -he should repair the accident. This I had hardly done, when some -fellow, whom I had not seen, sprang from behind upon my horse, and -clasped my arms so tightly to my body, that so far from making use of -them, I could hardly breathe. The scoundrel who had dismounted caught -my horse by the head and held him firmly, while my hitherto silent -companion clapped a pistol to my ear." - -"The devil!" exclaimed the elder man, "that was checkmate with a -vengeance." - -"Why, in truth, so it turned out," rejoined his companion; "though I -confess my first impulse was to balk the gentlemen of the road at any -hazard; and with this view I plied my spurs rowel deep, but the rascal -who held the bridle was too old a hand to be shaken off by a plunge or -two. He swung with his whole weight to the bit, and literally brought -poor Rowley's nose within an inch of the road. Finding that resistance -was utterly vain, and not caring to squander what little brains I have -upon so paltry an adventure, I acknowledged the jurisdiction of the -gentleman's pistol, and replied to his questions." - -"You proved your sound sense by so doing," observed the other. "But -what was their purpose?" - -"As far as I could gather," replied the younger man, "they were upon -the look-out for some particular person, I cannot say whom; for, either -satisfied by my answers, or having otherwise discovered their mistake, -they released me without taking anything from me but my sword, which, -however, I regret much, for it was my father's; and having blown the -priming from my pistols, they wished me the best of good luck, and so -we parted, without the smallest desire on my part to renew the -intimacy. And now, sir, you know just as much of the matter as I do -myself." - -"And a very serious matter it is, too," observed the stranger, with an -emphatic nod. "Landlord! a pint of mulled claret--and spice it as I -taught you--d'ye mind? A very grave matter--do you think you could -possibly identify those men?" - -"Identify them! how the devil could I?--it was dark as pitch--a cat -could not have seen them." - -"But was there no mark--no peculiarity discernible, even in the dense -obscurity--nothing about any of them, such as you might know again?" - -"Nothing--the very outline was indistinct. I could merely pee that they -were shaped like men." - -"Truly, truly, that is much to be lamented," said the elder gentleman; -"though fifty to one," he added, devoutly, "they'll hang one day or -another--let that console us. Meantime, here comes the claret." - -So saying, the new-comer rose from his seat, coolly removed his black -matted peruke from his shorn head, and replaced it by a dark velvet -cap, which he drew from some mysterious nook in his breeches pocket; -then, hanging the wig upon the back of his chair, he wheeled the seat -round to the table, and for the first time offered to his companion an -opportunity of looking him fairly in the face. If he were a believer in -the influence of first impressions, he had certainly acted wisely in -deferring the exhibition until the acquaintance had made some progress, -for his countenance was, in sober truth, anything but attractive--a -pair of grizzled brows overshadowed eyes of quick and piercing black, -rather small, and unusually restless and vivid--the mouth was wide, and -the jaw so much underhung as to amount almost to a deformity, giving to -the lower part of the face a character of resolute ferocity which was -not at all softened by the keen fiery glance of his eye; a massive -projecting forehead, marked over the brow with a deep scar, and -furrowed by years and thought, added not a little to the stern and -commanding expression of the face. The complexion was swarthy; and -altogether the countenance was one of that sinister and unpleasant kind -which the imagination associates with scenes of cruelty and terror, and -which might appropriately take a prominent place in the foreground of a -feverish dream. The young traveller had seen too many ugly sights, in -the course of a roving life of danger and adventure, to remember for a -moment the impression which his new companion's visage was calculated -to produce. They chatted together freely; and the elder (who, by the -way, exhibited no very strong Irish peculiarities of accent or idiom, -any more than did the other) when he bid his companion good-night, left -him under the impression that, however forbidding his aspect might be, -his physical disadvantages were more than counterbalanced by the -shrewd, quick sagacity, correct judgment, and wide range of experience -of which he appeared possessed. - - - - -CHAPTER II. - -A BED IN THE "COCK AND ANCHOR"--A LANTERN AND AN UGLY VISITOR BY THE -BEDSIDE. - - -Leaving the public room to such as chose to push their revels beyond -the modesty of midnight, our young friend betook himself to his -chamber; where, snugly deposited in one of the snuggest beds which the -"Cock and Anchor" afforded, with the ample tapestry curtains drawn from -post to post, while the rude wind buffeted the casements and moaned -through the antique chimney-tops, he was soon locked in the deep, -dreamless slumber of fatigue. - -How long this sweet oblivion may have lasted it was not easy to say; -some hours, however, had no doubt intervened, when the sleeper was -startled from his repose by a noise at his chamber door. The latch was -raised, and someone bearing a shaded light entered the room and -cautiously closed the door again. In the belief that the intruder was -some guest or domestic of the inn who either mistook the room or was -not aware of its occupation, the young man coughed once or twice -slightly in token of his presence, and observing that his signal had -not the desired effect, he inquired rather sharply,-- - -"Who is there?" - -The only answer returned was a long "Hist!" and forthwith the steps of -the unseasonable visitor were directed to the bedside. The person thus -disturbed had hardly time to raise himself half upright when the -curtains at one side were drawn apart, and by the imperfect light which -forced its way through the horn enclosure of a lantern, he beheld the -bronzed and sinister features of his fireside companion of the previous -evening. The stranger was arrayed for the road, with his cloak and -cocked hat on. Both parties, the visited and the visitor, for a time -remained silent and in the same fixed attitude. - -"Pray, sir," at length inquired the person thus abruptly intruded upon, -"to what special good fortune do I owe this most unlooked-for visit?" - -The elder man made no reply; but deliberately planted the large dingy -lantern which he carried upon the bed in which the young man lay. - -"You have tarried somewhat too long over the wine-cup," continued he, -not a little provoked at the coolness of the intruder. "This, sir, is -not your chamber; seek it elsewhere. I am in no mood to bandy jests. -You will consult your own ease as well as mine by quitting this room -with all dispatch." - -"Young gentleman," replied the elder man in a low, firm tone, "I have -used short ceremony in disturbing you thus. To judge from your face you -are no less frank than hardy. You will not require apologies when you -have heard me. When I last night sate with you I observed about you a -token long since familiar to me as the light--you wear it on your -finger--it is a diamond ring. That ring belonged to a dear friend of -mine--an old comrade and a tried friend in a hundred griefs and perils: -the owner was Richard O'Connor. I have not heard from him for ten years -or more. Can you say how he fares?" - -"The brave soldier and good man you have named was my father," replied -the young man, mournfully. - -"_Was!_" repeated the stranger. "Is he then no more--is he dead?" - -"Even so," replied the young man, sadly. - -"I knew it--I felt it. When I saw that jewel last night something smote -at my heart and told me, that the hand that wore it once was cold. Ah, -me! it was a friendly and a brave hand. Through all the wars of King -James" (and so saying he touched his hat) "we were together, companions -in arms and bosom friends. He was a comely man and a strong; no -hardship tired him, no difficulty dismayed him; and the merriest fellow -he was that ever trod on Irish ground. Poor O'Connor! in exile; away, -far away from the country he loved so well; among foreigners too. Well, -well, wheresoever they have laid thee, there moulders not a truer nor a -braver heart in the fields of all the world!" - -He paused, sighed deeply, and then continued,-- - -"Sorely, sorely are thine old comrades put to it, day by day, and night -by night, for comfort and for safety--sorely vexed and pillaged. -Nevertheless--over-ridden, and despised, and scattered as we are, -mercenaries and beggars abroad, and landless at home--still something -whispers in my ear that there will come at last a retribution, and such -a one as will make this perjured, corrupt, and robbing ascendency a -warning and a wonder to all after times. Is it a common thing, think -you, that all the gentlemen, all the chivalry of a whole country--the -natural leaders and protectors of the people--should be stripped of -their birthright, ay, even of the poor privilege of seeing in this -their native country, strangers possessing the inheritances which are -in _all_ right their own; cast abroad upon the world; soldiers of -fortune, selling their blood for a bare subsistence; many of them dying -of want; and all because for honour and conscience sake they refused to -break the oath which bound them to a ruined prince? Is it a slight -thing, think you, to visit with pains and penalties such as these, men -guilty of no crimes beyond those of fidelity and honour?" - -The stranger said this with an intensity of passion, to which the low -tone in which he spoke but gave an additional impressiveness. After a -short pause he again spoke,-- - -"Young gentleman," said he, "you may have heard your father--whom the -saints receive!--speak, when talking over old recollections, of one -Captain O'Hanlon, who shared with him the most eventful scenes of a -perilous time. He may, I say, have spoken of such a one." - -"He has spoken of him," replied the young man; "often, and kindly too." - -"I am that man," continued the stranger; "your father's old friend and -comrade; and right glad am I, seeing that I can never hope to meet him -more on this side the grave, to renew, after a kind, a friendship which -I much prized, now in the person of his son. Give me your hand, young -gentleman: I pledge you mine in the spirit of a tried and faithful -friendship. I inquire not what has brought you to this unhappy country; -I am sure it can be nothing which lies not within the eye of honour, so -I ask not concerning it; but on the contrary, I will tell you of myself -what may surprise you--what will, at least, show that I am ready to -trust you freely. You were stopped to-night upon the Southern road, -some ten miles from this. It was _I_ who stopped you!" - -O'Connor made a sudden but involuntary movement of menace; but without -regarding it, O'Hanlon continued,-- - -"You are astonished, perhaps shocked--you look so; but mind you, there -is some difference between _stopping_ men on the highway, and _robbing_ -them when you have stopped them. I took you for one who we were -informed would pass that way, and about the same hour--one who carried -letters from a pretended friend--one whom I have long suspected, a -half-faced, cold-hearted friend--carried letters, I say, from such a -one to the Castle here; to that malignant, perjured reprobate and -apostate, the so-called Lord Wharton--as meet an ornament for a gibbet -as ever yet made a feast for the ravens. I was mistaken: here is your -sword; and may you long wear it as well as he from whom it was -inherited." Here he raised the weapon, the blade of which he held in -his hand, and the young man saw it and the hilt flash and glitter in -the dusky light. "And take the advice of an old soldier, young friend," -continued O'Hanlon, "and when you are next, which I hope may not be for -many a long day, overpowered by odds and at their mercy, do not by -fruitless violence tempt them to disable you by a simpler and less -pleasant process than that of merely taking your sword and unpriming -your pistols. Many a good man has thrown away his life by such boyish -foolery. Upon the table by your bed you will in the morning find your -rapier, and God grant that it and you may long prove fortunate -companions!" He was turning to go, but recollecting himself, he added, -"One word before I go. I am known here as Mr. Dwyer--remember the name, -Dwyer--I am generally to be heard of in this place. Should you at any -time during your stay in this city require the assistance of a friend -who has a cheerful willingness to serve you, and who is not perhaps -altogether destitute of power, you have only to leave a billet in the -hand of the keeper of this inn, and if I be above ground it will reach -me--of course address it under the name I have last mentioned--and so, -young gentleman, fare you well." So saying, he grasped the hand of his -new friend, shook it warmly, and then, turning upon his heel, strode -swiftly to the door, and so departed, leaving O'Connor with so much -abruptness as not to allow him time to utter a question or remark on -what had passed. - -The excitement of the interview speedily passed away, the fatigues of -the preceding day were persuasively seconded by the soothing sound of -the now abated wind and by the utter darkness of the chamber, and the -young man was soon deep in the forgetfulness of sleep once more. When -the broad, red light of the morning sun broke cheerily into his room, -streaming through the chinks of the old shutters, and penetrating -through the voluminous folds of the vast curtains of rich, faded damask -which surmounted the huge hearse-like bed in which he lay, so as to -make its inmate aware that the hour of repose was past and that of -action come, O'Connor remembered the circumstances of the interview -which had been so strangely intruded upon him but as a dream; nor was -it until he saw the sword which he had believed irrecoverably lost -lying safely upon the table, that he felt assured that the visit and -its purport were not the creation of his slumbering fancy. In reply to -his questions when he descended, he was informed by mine host of the -"Cock and Anchor," that Mr. Dwyer had left the inn-yard upon his stout -hack, a good hour before daybreak. - - - - -CHAPTER III. - -THE LITTLE MAN IN BLUE AND SILVER. - - -Among the loungers who loitered at the door of the "Cock and Anchor," -as the day wore on, there appeared a personage whom it behoves us to -describe. This was a small man, with a very red face and little grey -eyes--he wore a cloth coat of sky blue, with here and there a piece of -silver lace laid upon it without much regard to symmetry; for the -scissors had evidently displaced far the greater part of the original -decorations, whose primitive distribution might be traced by the -greater freshness of the otherwise faded cloth which they had covered, -as well as by some stray threads, which stood like stubbles here and -there to mark the ravages of the sickle. One hand was buried in the -deep flap pocket of a waistcoat of the same hue and material, and -bearing also, in like manner, the evidences of a very decided -retrenchment in the article of silver lace. These symptoms of economy, -however, in no degree abated the evident admiration with which the -wearer every now and then stole a glance on what remained of its -pristine splendours--a glance which descended not ungraciously upon a -leg in whose fascinations its owner reposed an implicit faith. His -right hand held a tobacco-pipe, which, although its contents were not -ignited, he carried with a luxurious nonchalance ever and anon to the -corner of his mouth, where it afforded him sundry imaginary puffs--a -cheap and fanciful luxury, in which my Irish readers need not be told -their humbler countrymen, for lack of better, are wont to indulge. He -leaned against one of the stout wooden pillars on which the front of -the building was reared, and interlarded his economical pantomime of -pipe-smoking with familiar and easy conversation with certain of the -outdoor servants of the inn--a familiarity which argued not any sense -of superiority proportionate to the pretension of his attire. - -"And so," said the little man, turning with an aristocratic ease -towards a stout fellow in a jerkin, with bluff visage and folded arms, -who stood beside him, and addressing him in a most melodious -brogue--"and so, for sartain, you have but five single gintlemen in the -house--mind, I say _single_ gintlemen--for, divil carry me if ever I -take up with a _family_ again--it doesn't answer--it don't _shoot_ -me--I was never made for a family, nor a family for me--I can't stand -their b----y regularity; and--" with a sigh of profound sentiment, and -lowering his voice, he added--"and, the maid-sarvants--no, devil a -taste--they don't answer--they don't _shoot_. My disposition, Tom, is -tindher--tindher to imbecility--I never see a petticoat but it flutters -my heart--the short and the long of it is, I'm always falling in -love--and sometimes the passion is not retaliated by the object, and -more times it is--but, in both cases, I'm aiqually the victim--for my -intintions is always honourable, and of course nothin' comes of it. My -life was fairly frettin' away in a dhrame of passion among the -housemaids--I felt myself witherin' away like a flower in autumn--I was -losing my relish for everything, from bacon and table-dhrink -upwards--dangers were thickening round me--I had but one way to -execrate myself--I gave notice--I departed, and here I am." - -Having wound up the sentence, the speaker leaned forward and spat -passionately on the ground--a pause ensued, which was at length broken -by the same speaker. - -"Only two out of the five," said he, reflectively, "only two unprovided -with sarvants." - -"And neither of 'em," rejoined Tom, a blunt English groom, "very likely -to want one. The one is a lawyer, with a hack as lean as himself, and -more holes, I warrant, than half-pence in his breeches pocket. He's out -a-looking for lodgings, I take it." - -"He's not exactly what I want," rejoined the little man. "What's -th'other like?" - -"A gentleman, every inch, or _I'm_ no judge," replied the groom. "He -came last night, and as likely a bit of horseflesh under him as ever my -two hands wisped down. He chucked me a crown-piece this morning, as if -it had been no more nor a cockle shell--he did." - -"By gorra, he'll do!" exclaimed the little man energetically. "It's a -bargain--I'm his man." - -"Ay, but you mayn't answer, brother; he mayn't take you," observed Tom. - -"Wait a bit--_jist_ wait a bit, till he sees me," replied he of the -blue coat. - -"Ay, wait a bit," persevered the groom, coolly--"wait a bit, and when -he _does_ see you, it strikes me wery possible he mayn't like your -cut." - -"Not like my cut!" exclaimed the little man, as soon as he had -recovered breath; for the bare supposition of such an occurrence -involved in his opinion so utter and astounding a contradiction of all -the laws by which human antipathies and affections are supposed to be -regulated, that he felt for a moment as if his whole previous existence -had been a dream and an illusion. "Not like my _cut_!" - -"No," rejoined the groom, with perfect imperturbability. - -The little man deigned no other reply than that conveyed in a glance of -the most inexpressible contempt, which, having wandered over the person -and accoutrements of the unconscious Tom, at length settled upon his -own lower extremities, where it gradually softened into a gaze of -melancholy complacency, while he muttered, with a pitying smile, "Not -like my cut--not like it!" and then, turning majestically towards the -groom, he observed, with laconic dignity,-- - -"I humbly consave the gintleman has an eye in his head." - -This rebuke had hardly been administered when the subject of their -conference in person passed from the inn into the street. - -"There he goes," observed Tom. - -"And here _I_ go after him," added the candidate for a place; and in a -moment he was following O'Connor with rapid steps through the narrow -streets of the town, southward. It occurred to him, as he hurried after -his intended master, that it might not be amiss to defer his interview -until they were out of the streets, and in some more quiet place; nor -in all probability would he have disturbed himself at all to follow the -young gentleman, were it not that even in the transient glimpse which -he had had of the person and features of O'Connor, the little man -thought, and by no means incorrectly, that he recognized the form of -one whom he had often seen before. - -"That's Mr. O'Connor, as sure as my name's Larry Toole," muttered the -little man, half out of breath with his exertions--"an' it's himself'll -be proud to get me. I wondher what he's afther now. I'll soon see, at -any rate." - -Thus communing within himself, Larry alternately walked and trotted to -keep the chase in view. He might very easily have come up with the -object of his pursuit, for on reaching St. Patrick's Cathedral, -O'Connor paused, and for some minutes contemplated the old building. -Larry, however, did not care to commence his intended negotiation in -the street; he purposed giving him rope enough, having, in truth, no -peculiar object in following him at that precise moment, beyond the -gratification of an idle curiosity; he therefore hung back until -O'Connor was again in motion, when he once more renewed his pursuit. - -O'Connor had soon passed the smoky precincts of the town, and was now -walking at a slackened pace among the green fields and the trees, all -clothed in the rich melancholy hues of early autumn. The evening sun -was already throwing its mellow tint on all the landscape, and the -lengthening shadows told how far the day was spent. In the transition -from the bustle of a town to the lonely quiet of the country at -eventide, and especially at that season of the year when decay begins -to sadden the beauties of nature, there is something at once soothing -and unutterably melancholy. Leaving behind the glare, and dust, and -hubbub of the town, who has not felt in his inmost heart the still -appeal of nature? The saddened beauty of sear autumn, enhanced by the -rich and subdued light of gorgeous sunset--the filmy mist--the -stretching shadows--the serene quiet, broken only by rural sounds, more -soothing even than silence--all these, contrasted with the sounds and -sights of the close, restless city, speak tenderly and solemnly to the -heart of man of the beauty of creation, of the goodness of God, and, -along with these, of the mournful condition of all nature--change, -decay, and death. Such thoughts and feelings, stealing in succession -upon the heart, touch, one by one, the springs of all our sublimest -sympathies, and fill the mind with the beautiful sense of brotherhood, -under God, with all nature. Under the not unpleasing influence of such -suggestions, O'Connor slackened his pace to a slow irregular walk, -which sorely tried the patience of honest Larry Toole. - -"After all," exclaimed that worthy, "it's nothin' more nor less than an -evening walk he's takin', God bless the mark! What business have I -followin' him? unless--see--sure enough he's takin' the short cut to -the manor. By gorra, this is worth mindin'--I must not folly him, -however--I don't want to meet the family--so here I'll plant myself -until sich times as he's comin' back again." - -So saying, Larry Toole clambered to the top of the grassy embankment -which fenced the road, and seating himself between a pair of aged -hawthorn-trees, he watched young O'Connor as he followed the wanderings -of a wild bridle-road until he was at length fairly hidden from view by -the intervening trees and brushwood. - - - - -CHAPTER IV. - -A SCARLET HOOD AMONG THE OLD TREES--THE MANOR OF MORLEY COURT--AND A -PEEP INTO AN ANTIQUE CHAMBER. - - -The path which O'Connor followed was one of those quiet and pleasant -by-roads which, in defiance of what are called improvements, are still -to be discovered throughout Ireland here and there, in some unsuspected -region, winding their green and sequestered ways through many a varied -scene of rural beauty; and, unless when explored by some chance -fisherman or tourist, unknown to all except the poor peasant to whose -simple conveniences they minister. - -Low and uneven embankments, overgrown by a thousand kinds of weeds and -wild flowers and brushwood, marked the boundaries of this rustic -pathway, but in so friendly a sort, and with so little jealousy or -exclusion, that they seemed designed rather to lend a soft and -sheltered resting-place to the tired traveller than to check the -wayward excursions of the idle rambler into the merry fields and -woodlands through which it wound. On either side the tall, hoary trees, -like time-worn pillars, reared their grey, moss-grown trunks and -arching branches, now but thinly clothed with the discoloured foliage -of autumn, and casting their long shadows in the evening sun far over -the sloping and unequal sward. The scene, the hour, and the loneliness -of the place, would of themselves have been enough to induce a pensive -train of thought; but, beyond the silence and seclusion, and the -falling of the leaves in their eternal farewell, and all the other -touching signs of nature's beautiful decay, there were deep in -O'Connor's breast recollections and passions with which the scene -before him was more nearly associated, than with the ordinary -suggestions of fantastic melancholy. - -At some distance from this road, and half hidden among the trees, there -stood an old and extensive building, chiefly of deep red brick, -presenting many and varied fronts and quaint gables, antique-fashioned -casements, and whole groups of fantastic chimneys, sending up their -thin curl of smoke into the still air, and glinting tall and red in the -declining sun; while the dusky hue of the old bricks was every here and -there concealed under rich mantles of dark, luxuriant ivy, which, in -some parts of the structure, had not only mounted to the summits of the -wall, but clambered, in rich profusion, over the steep roof, and even -to the very chimney tops. This antique building--rambling, massive, and -picturesque in no ordinary degree--might well have attracted the -observation of the passer-by, as it presented in succession, through -the irregular vistas of the rich old timber, now one front, now -another, alternately hidden and revealed as the point of observation -was removed. But the eyes of O'Connor sought this ancient mansion, and -dwelt upon its ever-varying aspects, as he pursued his way, with an -interest more deep and absorbing than that of mere curiosity or -admiration; and as he slowly followed the grass-grown road, a thousand -emotions and remembrances came crowding upon his mind, impetuous, -passionate, and wild, but all tinged with a melancholy which even the -strong and sanguine heart of early manhood could not overcome. As the -path proceeded, it became more closely sheltered by the wild bushes and -trees, and its windings grew more wayward and frequent, when on a -sudden, from behind a screen of old thorns which lay a little in -advance, a noble dog, of the true old Irish wolf breed, came bounding -towards him, with every token of joy and welcome. - -"Rover, Rover--down, boy, down," said the stranger, as the huge animal, -in his boisterous greeting, leaped upon him again and again, flinging -his massive paws upon his shoulders, and thrusting his cold nose into -his bosom--"down, Rover, down." - -The first transport of welcome past, the noble dog waited to receive -from his old friend some marks of recognition in return, and then, -swinging his long tail from side to side, away he sprang, as if to -carry the joyful tidings to the companion of his evening ramble. - -O'Connor knew that some of those whom he should not have chosen to meet -just then or there were probably within a stone's throw of the spot -where he now stood, and for a moment he was strongly tempted to turn, -and, if so it might be, unobserved to retrace his steps. The close -screen of wild trees which overshadowed the road would have rendered -this design easy of achievement; but while he was upon the point of -turning to depart, a few notes of some wild and simple Irish melody, -carelessly lilted by a voice of silvery sweetness, floated to his ear. -Every cadence and vibration of _that_ voice was to him enchantment--he -could not choose but pause. The sweet sounds were interrupted by a -rustling among the withered leaves which strewed the ground. Again the -fine old dog made his appearance, dashing joyously along the path -towards him, and following in his wake, with slow and gentle steps, -came a light and graceful female form. On her shoulders rested a short -mantle of scarlet cloth; the hood was thrown partially backward, so as -to leave the rich dark ringlets to float freely in the light breeze of -evening; the faintest flush imaginable tinged the clear paleness of her -cheek, giving to her exquisitely beautiful features a lustre, whose -richness did not, however, subdue their habitual and tender melancholy. -The moment the full dark eyes of the girl encountered O'Connor, the -song died away upon her lips--the colour fled from her cheeks, and as -instantaneously the sudden paleness was succeeded by a blush of such -depth and brilliancy as threw far into shade even the brightest imagery -of poetic fancy. - -"Edmond!" she exclaimed, in a tone so faint and low as scarcely to -reach his ear, and which yet thrilled to his very heart. - -"Yes, Mary--it is, indeed, Edmond O'Connor," answered he, passionately -and mournfully--"come, after long years of separation, over many a mile -of sea and land--unlooked-for, and, mayhap, unwished-for--come once -more to see you, and, in seeing you, to be happy, were it but for a -moment--come to tell you that he loves you fondly, passionately as -ever--come to ask you, dear, dear Mary, if you, too, are unchanged?" - -As he thus spoke, standing by her side, O'Connor gazed on the sad, -sweet face of her he loved so well, and held that little hand, which he -would have given worlds to call his own. The beautiful girl was too -artless to disguise her agitation. She would have spoken, but the -effort was vain--the tears gathered in her dark eyes, and fell faster -and faster, till at length the fruitless struggle ceased, and she wept -long and bitterly. - -"Oh! Edmond," said she, at length, raising her eyes sorrowfully and -fondly to O'Connor's face--"what has called you hither? We two should -hardly have met now or thus." - -"Dear Mary," answered he, with melancholy fervour, "since last I held -this loved hand, years have passed away--three long years and more--in -which we two have never met--in which you scarce have even heard of me. -Mary, three years bring many changes--changes irreparable. Time--which -has, if it were possible, made you more beautiful even than when I saw -you last--may yet have altered earlier feelings, and turned your heart -from me. Were it so, Mary, I would not seek to blame you. I am not so -vain--your rank--your great attractions--your surpassing beauty, must -have won many admirers--drawn many suitors round you; and I--I, among -all these, may well have been forgotten--I, whose best merit is but in -loving you beyond my life. I will not, then--I will not, Mary, ask if -you love me still: but coming thus unbidden and unlooked-for, am I -forgiven--am I welcome, Mary?" - -The artless girl looked up in his face with such a beautiful smile of -trust and love as told more in one brief moment than language could in -volumes. - -"Yes, Mary," said O'Connor, reading that smile aright, with swelling -heart and proud devotion; "yes, Mary. I am remembered--you are still my -own--my own: true, faithful, unchanged, in spite of years of time and -leagues of separation; in spite of all!--my true-hearted, my adored, my -own!" - -He spoke; and in the fulness of their hearts they were both for a while -silent, each gazing on the other in the rapt tenderness of long-tried -love--in the deep, guileless joy of this chance meeting. - -"Hear me," he whispered, lower almost than the murmur of the breeze -through the arching boughs above them, as if fearful that even a breath -would trouble the still enchantment that held them spell-bound: "hear -me, for I have much to tell. The years that have passed since I spoke -to you before have brought to me their store of good and ill, of sorrow -and of hope. I have many things to tell you, Mary; much that gives me -hope--the cheeriest hope--even that of overcoming Sir Richard's -opposition! Ay, Mary, reasonable hope; and why? Because I am no longer -poor: an old friend of my father's, Mr. Audley, has taken me by the -hand, adopted me, made me his heir--the heir to riches and possessions -which even your father will allow to be considerable--which he well may -think enough to engage his prudence in favour of our union. In this -hope, dearest, I am here. I daily expect the arrival of my generous -friend and benefactor; and with him I will go to your father and urge -my suit once more, and with God's blessing at last prevail--but hark! -some one comes." - -Even while he spoke, the lovers were startled by the sound of voices in -gay colloquy, approaching along the quiet by-road on which they stood. - -"Leave me, Edmond, leave me," said the beautiful girl, with earnest -entreaty; "they must not see you with me now." - -"Farewell then, dearest, since it must be so," replied O'Connor, as he -pressed her hand closely in his own; "but meet me to-morrow -evening--meet me by the old gate in the beech-tree walk, at the hour -when you used to walk there. Nay, refuse me not, Mary. Farewell, -farewell till then!" and so saying, before she had time to frame an -answer, he turned from her, and was quickly lost among the trees and -underwood which skirted the pathway. - -In the speakers who approached, the young lady at once recognized her -brother, Henry Ashwoode, and Emily Copland, her pretty cousin. The -young man was handsome alike in face and figure, slightly made, and -bearing in his carriage that indescribable air of aristocratic birth -and pretension which sits not ungracefully upon a handsome person; his -countenance, too, bore a striking resemblance to that of his sister, -and, allowing for the difference of sex, resembled it as nearly as any -countenance which had never expressed a passion but such as had its aim -and origin alike in _self_, could do. He was dressed in the extreme of -the prevailing fashion; and altogether his outward man was in all -respects such as to justify his acknowledged pretensions to be -considered one of the prettiest men in the then gay city of Dublin. The -young lady who accompanied him was, in all points except in that of -years, as unlike her cousin, Mary Ashwoode, as one pretty girl could -well be to another. She was very fair; had a quick, clear eye, which -carried in its glance something more than mere mirth or vivacity; an -animated face, with, however, something of a bold, and at times even of -a haughty expression. Laughing and chatting in light, careless gaiety, -the youthful pair approached the spot where Mary Ashwoode stood. - -"So, so, fair sister," cried the young man, gaily, "alone and musing, -and doubtless melancholy. Shall we venture to approach her, Emily?" - -Women have keener eyes in small matters than men; and Miss Copland at a -glance perceived her fair cousin's flushed cheek and embarrassed -manner. - -"Angels and ministers of grace defend us!" cried she; "the girl has -certainly seen a ghost or a dragoon officer." - -"Neither, I assure you, cousin," replied Miss Ashwoode, with an effort; -"my evening's ramble has not extended beyond this spot; and as yet I've -seen no monster more alarming than my brother's new periwig." - -The young man bowed. - -"Nay, nay," cried Miss Copland, "but I must hear it. There certainly is -some awful mystery at the bottom of all these conscious looks; but -_apropos_ of awful mysteries," continued she, turning to young -Ashwoode, half in pity for Mary's increasing embarrassment; "where _is_ -Major O'Leary? What has become of your amusing old uncle?" - -"That's more than _I_ can tell," replied the young man; "I wash my -hands of the scapegrace. I know nothing of him. I saw him for a moment -in town this morning, and he promised, with a round dozen of oaths, to -be out to dine with us to-day. Thus much _you_ know, and thus much _I_ -know; for the rest, having sins enough of my own to carry, as I said -before, I wash my hands of him and his." - -"Well, now remember, Henry," continued she, "I make it a point with you -to bring him out here to-morrow. In sober seriousness I can't get on -without him. It is a melancholy and a terrible truth, but still one -which I feel it my duty to speak boldly, that Major O'Leary is the only -gallant and susceptible man in the family." - -"Monstrous assertion?" exclaimed the young man; "why, not to mention -myself, the acknowledged pink and perfection of everything that is -irresistible, have you not the perfect command of my worthy cousin, -Arthur Blake?" - -"Now don't put me in a passion, Henry," exclaimed the girl. "How dare -you mention that wretch--that irreclaimable, unredeemed fox-hunter. He -never talks, nor thinks, nor dreams of anything but dogs and badgers, -foxes and other vermin. I verily believe he never yet was seen off a -horse's back, except sometimes in a stable--he is an absolute Irish -centaur! And then his odious attempts at finery--his elaborate, -perverse vulgarity--the perpetual pinching and mincing of his words! An -off-hand, shameless brogue I can endure--a brogue that revels and -riots, and defies the world like your uncle O'Leary's, I can respect -and even admire--but a brogue in a strait waistcoat----" - -"Well, well," rejoined the young man, laughing, "though you may not -find any sprout of the _family_ tree, excepting Major O'Leary, worthy -to contribute to your laudable requirements; yet surely you have a very -fair catalogue of young and able-bodied gentlemen among our neighbours. -What say you to young Lloyd--he lives within a stone's throw. He is a -most proper, pious, and punctual young gentleman; and would make, I -doubt not, a most devout and exemplary _'Cavalier servente_.'" - -"Worse and worse," cried the young lady despondingly; "the most -domestic, stupid, affectionate, invulnerable wretch. He never flirts -out of his own family, and then, for charity I believe, with the oldest -and ugliest. He is the very person for whose special case the rubric -provided that no man shall marry his grandmother." - -"My fair cousin," replied the young man, laughing, "I see you are hard -to please. Meanwhile, sweet ladies both, let me remind you that the sun -has just set; we must make our way homeward--at least _I_ must. By the -way, can I do anything in town for you this evening, beyond a tender -message to my reverend uncle?" - -"Dear me," exclaimed Miss Copland, "you have not passed an evening at -home this age. What _can_ you want, morning, noon, and night in that -smoky, dirty town?" - -"Why, the fact is," replied the young man, "business must be done; I -positively must attend two routs to-night." - -"Whose routs--what are they?" inquired the young lady. - -"One is Mrs. Tresham's, the other Lady Stukely's." - -"I _guessed_ that ugly old kinswoman of mine was at the bottom of it," -exclaimed the young lady with great vivacity. "Lady Stukely--that -pompous, old, frightful goose!--she has laid herself out to seduce you, -Harry; but don't let that dismay you, for ten to one if you fall, -she'll make an honest man of you in the end and marry you. Only think, -Mary, what a sister you shall have," and the young lady laughed -heartily, and then added, "There are some excellent, worthy, abominable -people, who seem made expressly to put one in a passion--perpetual -appeals to one's virtuous indignation. Now do, Henry, for goodness -sake, if a matrimonial catastrophe must come, choose at least some -nymph with less rouge and wrinkles than poor dear Lady Stukely." - -"Kind cousin, thyself shalt choose for me," answered the young man; -"but pray, suffer me to be at large for a year or two more. I would -fain live and breathe a little, before I go down into the matrimonial -pit and be no more seen. But let us mend our pace, the evening turns -chill." - -Thus chatting carelessly, they moved towards the large brick building -which we have already described, embowered among the trees; where -arrived, the young man forthwith applied himself to prepare for a night -of dissipation, and the young ladies to get through a dull evening as -best they might. - -The two fair cousins sate in a large, old-fashioned drawing-room; the -walls were covered with elaborately-wrought tapestry representing, in a -manner sufficiently grim and alarming, certain scenes from Ovid's -Metamorphoses; a cheerful fire blazed in the capacious hearth; and the -cumbrous mantelpiece was covered with those grotesque and monstrous -china figures, misnamed ornaments, which were then beginning to find -favour in the eyes of fashion. Abundance of richly carved furniture was -disposed variously throughout the room. The young ladies sate by a -small table on which lay some books and materials for work, placed near -the fire. They occupied each one of those huge, high-backed, and -well-stuffed chairs in which it is a mystery how our ancestors could -sit and remain awake. Both were silently occupied with their own busy -reflections; and it was not until the rapid clank of the horse's hoofs -upon the pavement underneath the windows, as young Ashwoode started -upon his night ride to the city, rose sharp and clear, that Miss -Copland, waking from her reverie, exclaimed,-- - -"Well, sweet coz, were ever so woebegone and desolate a pair of -damsels. The only available male creature in the establishment, with -the exception of Sir Richard, who has actually gone to bed, has fairly -turned his back upon us." - -"Dear Emily," replied her cousin, "pray be serious. I wish to tell you -what has passed this evening. You observed my confusion and agitation -when you and Henry overtook me." - -"Why, to be sure I did," replied the young lady; "and now, like an -honest coz, you are going to tell me all about it." She drew her chair -nearer as she spoke. "Come, my dear, tell me everything--what was your -discovery? Come, now, there's a good girl, do confess." So saying she -threw one arm round her cousin's neck and laid the other in her lap, -looking curiously into her face the while. - -"Oh! Emily, I have seen him!" exclaimed Miss Ashwoode, with an effort. - -"Seen _him_!--seen whom?--old Nick, if I may judge from your looks. -Whom _have_ you seen, dear?" eagerly inquired Miss Copland. - -"I have seen Edmond O'Connor," answered she. - -"Edmond O'Connor!" repeated the girl in unfeigned surprise, "why, I -thought he was in France, eating frogs and dancing cotillons. What has -brought him here?--why, he'll be taken for a spy and executed on the -spot. But seriously, can you conceive anything more rash and ill-judged -than his coming over just now?" - -"It is indeed, I greatly fear, very rash," replied the young lady; "he -is resolved to speak with my father once more." - -"And your father in such a precious ill-humour just at this precise -moment," exclaimed Miss Copland. "I never _was_ so much afraid of Sir -Richard as I have been for the last two days; he has been a perfect -bruin--begging your pardon, my dear girl--but even _you_ must admit, -let filial piety and all the cardinal virtues say what they will, that -whenever Sir Richard is recovering from a fit of the gout he is nothing -short of a perfect monster. I wager my diamond cross to a thimble, that -he breaks the poor young man's head the moment he comes within reach of -him. But jesting apart, I fear, my dear cousin, that my uncle is in no -mood just now to listen to heroics." - -A sharp knocking upon the floor immediately above the chamber in which -the young ladies sate, interrupted the conference at this juncture. - -"There is my father's signal--he wants me," exclaimed Miss Ashwoode, -and rising as she spoke, without more ado she ran to render the -required attendance. - -"Strange girl," exclaimed Miss Copland, as her cousin's step was heard -ascending the stairs, "strange girl!--she is the veriest simpleton I -ever yet encountered. All this fuss to marry a fellow who is, in plain -words, little better than a beggarman--a good-looking beggarman, to be -sure, but still a beggar. Oh, Mary, simple Mary! I am very much tempted -to despise you--there is certainly something _wrong_ about you! I hate -to see people without ambition enough even to wish to keep their own -natural position. The girl is full of nonsense; but what's that to me? -she'll _un_learn it all one day; but I'm much afraid, simple cousin, a -little too late." - -Having thus soliloquized, she called her maid, and retired for the -night to her chamber. - - - - -CHAPTER V. - -OF O'CONNOR'S MOONLIGHT WALK TO THE "COCK AND ANCHOR," AND WHAT BEFELL -HIM BY THE WAY. - - -As soon as O'Connor had made some little way from the scene of his -sudden and agitating interview with Miss Ashwoode, he slackened his -pace, and with slow steps began to retrace his way toward the city. So -listless and interrupted was his progress, that the sun had descended, -and twilight was fast melting into darkness before he reached that -point in the road at which diverged the sequestered path which he had -followed. As he approached the spot, he observed a small man, with a -pipe in his mouth, and his person arranged in an attitude of ease and -graceful negligence, admirably calculated to exhibit the symmetry and -perfection of his bodily proportions. This man had planted himself in -the middle of the road, so as completely to command the pass, and, as -our reader need scarcely be informed, was no other than Larry -Toole--the important personage to whom we have already introduced him. - -As O'Connor approached, Larry advanced, with a slow and dignified -motion, to receive him: and removing his pipe from his mouth with a -_nonchalant_ air, he compressed the lighted contents of the bowl with -his finger, and then deposited the utensil in his coat pocket, at the -same time, executing, in a very becoming manner, his most courtly bow. -Somewhat surprised, and by no means pleasantly, at an interruption of -so unlooked-for a kind, O'Connor observed, impatiently, "I have neither -time nor temper, friend, to suffer delay or listen to foolery;" and -observing that Larry was preparing to follow him, he added curtly, "I -desire no company, sirrah, and choose to be alone." - -"An' it's exactly because you wish to be alone, and likes solitude," -observed the little man, "that you and me will shoot, being formed by -the bountiful hand iv nature, barrin' a few small exceptions,"--here he -glanced complacently at his right leg, which was a little in advance of -its companion--"as similiar as two eggs." - -Being in no mood to tolerate, far less to encourage this annoying -intrusion, O'Connor pursued his way at a quickened pace, and in -obstinate silence, and in a little time exhibited a total and very -mortifying forgetfulness of Mr. Toole's bodily proximity. That -gentleman, however, was not so easily to be shaken off--he -perseveringly followed, keeping a pace or two behind. - -"It's parfectly unconthrovertible," pursued that worthy, with -considerable solemnity and emphasis, "and at laste as plain as the nose -on your face, that you haven't the smallest taste of a conciption who -it is you're spakin' too, Mr. O'Connor." - -"And pray who may you be, friend?" inquired he, somewhat surprised at -being thus addressed by name. - -"Who else would I be, your honour," rejoined the persevering -applicant--"who else _could_ I be, if you had but a glimmer iv light to -contemplate my forrum and fatures, but Laurence Toole--called by the -men for the most part _Misthur_ Toole, and (he added in a softened -tone) by the girls most commonly designated Larry." - -"Ha--Larry--Larry Toole!" exclaimed O'Connor, half reconciled to an -intrusion up to that moment so ill endured. "Well, Larry, tell me -briefly how are the family at the manor, yonder?" - -"Why, plase your honour," rejoined Larry, promptly, "the ould masthur, -that's Sir Richard, is much oftener gouty than good-humoured, and -more's the pity. I b'lieve he's breaking down very fast, and small -blame to him, for he lived hard, like a rale honourable gentleman. An' -then, the young masthur, that's Masthur Henry--but you didn't know him -so well--he's getting on at the divil's rate--scatt'ring guineas like -small shot. They say he plays away a power of money; and he and the -masthur himself has often hard words enough between them about the way -things is goin' on; but he ates and dhrinks well, an' the health he -gets is as good as he wants for his purposes." - -"Well--but your young mistress," suggested O'Connor--"you have not told -me yet how Miss Ashwoode has been ever since. How have her health and -spirits been--has she been well?" - -"Mixed middlin', like belly bacon," replied Mr. Toole, with an air of -profound sympathy--"shilly-shally, sir--off an' on, like an April -day--sometimes atin' her victuals, sometimes lavin' them--no sartainty. -I think the ould masthur's gout and crossness, and the young one's -vagaries, is frettin' her; and it's sorry I am to see it. An' there's -Miss Emily--that's Miss Copland--a rale jovial slip iv a young lady. I -think you've seen her once or twice up at the manor; but now, since her -father, the ould General, died, she is stayin' for good with the -family. She's a fine lady, and" (drawing close to O'Connor, and -speaking with very significant emphasis) "she has ten thousand pounds -of her own--do you mind me, ten thousand--it's a good fortune--is not -it, sir?" - -He paused for a moment, and receiving no answer, which he interpreted -as a sign that the announcement was operating as it ought, he added -with a confidential wink-- - -"I thought I might as well put you up to it, you know, for no one knows -where a blessin' may light." - -"Larry," said O'Connor, after a considerable silence, somewhat abruptly -and suddenly recollecting the presence of that little person--"if you -have aught to say to me, speak it quickly. What may your business be?" - -"Why, sir," replied he, "the long and short of it is, I left Sir -Richard more than a week since. Not that I was turned away--no, Mr. -O'Connor," continued Mr. Toole, with edifying majesty, "no sich thing -at all in the wide world. My resignation, sir, was the fruit of my own -solemn convictions--for the five years I was with the family, I had no -comfort, or aise, or pace. I may as well spake plain to you, sir, for -_you_, like myself, is young"--Mr. Toole was certainly at the wrong -side of fifty--"you can aisily understand me, sir, when I say that I'm -the victim iv romance, bad cess to it--romance, sir; my buzzam, sir, -was always open to tindher impressions--impressions, sir, that came -into it as natural as pigs into a pittaty garden. I could not shut them -out--the short and the long iv it is, I was always fallin' in love, -since I was the size iv a quart pot--eternally fallin' in love." Mr. -Toole sighed, and then resumed. "I done my best to smother my emotions, -but passion, sir, young and ardent passion, is impossible to be -suppressed: you might as well be trying to keep strong beer in starred -bottles durin' the pariod iv the dog days. But I never knew rightly -what love was all out, in rale, terrible perfection, antil Mistress -Betsy came to live in the family. I'll not attempt to describe -her--it's enough to say she fixed my affections, and done for myself. -She is own maid to the young mistress. I need not expectorate upon the -progress iv my courtship--it's quite enough to observe, that for a -considherable time my path was strewed with flowers, antil a young -chap--an English bliggard, one Peter Clout--an' it's many's the clout -he got, the Lord be thanked for that same!--a lump iv a chap ten times -as ugly as the divil, and without more shapes about him than a pound of -cruds--an impittant, ignorant, presumptious, bothered, bosthoon--antil -this gentleman--this Misthur Peter Clout, made his b----y appearance; -then all at once the divil's delight began. Betsy--the lovely Betsy -Carey--the lovely, the vartious, the beautiful, and the exalted--began -to play thricks. I know she was in love with me--over head and ears, as -bad as myself--but woman is a mystarious agent, an' bangs Banagher. -Long as I've been larnin', I never could larn why it is they take -delight in tormentin' the tindher-hearted." - -This reflection was uttered in a tone of tender woe, and the speaker -paused for some symptom of assent from his auditor. It is, however, -hardly necessary to say that he paused in vain. O'Connor had enough to -occupy his mind; and so far from listening to his companion's -narrative, he was scarcely conscious that Mr. Toole, in bodily -presence, was walking beside him. That "tindher-hearted" individual -accordingly resumed the thread of his discourse. - -"But, at any rate, she laid herself out to make me jealous of Peter -Clout; and, with the blessin' iv the divil, she succeeded complately. -Things were going on this way--she lettin' on to be mighty fond iv -Peter, an' me gettin' angrier an' angrier, and Mr. Clout more an' more -impittent every day, antill I seen there was no use in purtendin'; so -one mornin' when we were both of us--myself and Mr. Peter -Clout--clainin' up the things in the pantry, I thought I might as well -have a bit iv discourse with him--when I seen, do ye mind, there was no -use in mortifyin' the chap with contempt, for I did not spake to him, -good, bad, or indifferent, for more than a fortnight, an' he was so -ignorant and unmannerly he never noticed the differ. When I seen there -was no use in keepin' him at a distance, says I to him one day in the -panthry--'Mr. Clout,' says I, 'your conduct in regard iv some persons -in this house,' says I, 'is iv a description that may be shuitable to -the English spalpeens,' says I, 'but is about as like the conduct of a -gintleman,' says I, 'as blackin' is to plate powder.' So he turns -round, an' he looks at me as if I was a Pollyphamius. 'Mind your work,' -says I, 'young man, an' don't be lookin' at me as if I was a hathian -godess,' says I. 'It's Mr. Toole that's speakin' to you, an' you -betther mind what he says. The long an' the short iv it is, I don't -like you to be hugger-muggering with a sartain delicate famale in this -establishment; an' if I catch you talkin' any more to Misthress Betsy -Carey, I give you fair notice, it's at your own apparel. Beware of -me--for as sure as you don't behave to my likin', you might as well be -in the one panthry with a hyania,' says I, an' it was thrue for me, an' -it was the same way with my father before me, an' all the Tooles up to -the time of Noah's ark. In pace I'm a turtle-dove all out; but once I'm -riz, I'm a rale tarin' vulture." - -Here Mr. Toole paused to call up a look, and after a grim shake of the -head, he resumed. - -"Things went on aisy enough for a day or two, antill I happened to walk -into the sarvants' hall, an' who should I see but Mr. Clout sittin' on -the same stool with Misthriss Betsy, an' his arm round her waist--so -when I see that, before any iv them could come between us, with the -fair madness I made one jump at him, an' we both had one another by the -windpipe before you'd have time to bless yourself. Well, round an' -round we went, rowlin' with our heads and backs agin the walls, an' -divil a spot of us but was black an' blue, antill we kem to the -chimney; an' sure enough when we did, down we rowled both together, -glory be to God! into the fire, an' upset a kittle iv wather on top iv -us; an' with that there was sich a screechin' among the women, an' -maybe a small taste from ourselves, that the masthur kem in, an' if he -didn't lay on us with his walkin' stick it's no matter; but, at any -rate, as soon as we recovered from the scaldin' an' the bruises. _I_ -retired, an' the English chap was turned away; an' that's the whole -story, an' I tuk my oath that I'll never go into sarvice in a _family_ -again. I can't make any hand of women--they're made for desthroyin' all -sorts iv pace iv mind--they're etarnally triflin' with the most sarious -and sacred emotions. I'll never sarve any but single gentlemen from -this out, if I was to be sacrificed for it--never a bit, by the hokey!" - -So saying, Mr. Toole, having, in the course of his harangue, reproduced -his pipe from his pocket, with a view to flourish it in emphatic -accompaniment with the cadences of his voice, smote the bowl of it upon -the edge of his cocked hat, which he held in his hand, with so much -passion, that the head of the pipe flew across the road, and was for -ever lost among the docks and nettles. One glance he deigned to the -stump which remained in his hand, and then, with an air of romantic -recklessness which laughs at all sacrifices, he flung it disdainfully -from him, clapped his cocked hat upon his head with a vehemence which -brought it nearly to the bridge of his nose, and, planting his hands in -his breeches pockets, he glanced at the stars with a scowl which, if -they take any note of things terrestrial, must have filled them with -alarm. - -Suddenly recollecting himself, Mr. Toole perceived that his intended -master, having walked on, had left him considerably behind; he -therefore put himself into an easy amble, which speedily brought him up -with the chase. - -"Mr. O'Connor, plase your honour," he exclaimed, "sure it's not -possible it's goin' to lave me behind you are, an' me so proud iv your -company; an', moreover, after axin' you for a situation--that is, -always supposin' you want the sarvices iv a rale dashin' young fellow, -that's up to everything, an' willing to sarve you in any incapacity. -An' by gorra, sir," continued he, pathetically, "it's next door to a -charity to take me, for I've but one crown in the wide world left, an' -I must change it to-night; an' once I change money, the shillin's makes -off with themselves like a hat full of sparrows into the elements, the -Lord knows where." - -With a desolate recklessness, he chucked the crown-piece into the air, -caught it in his palm, and walked silently on. - -"Well, well," said O'Connor, "if you choose to make so uncertain an -engagement as for the term of my stay in Dublin, you are welcome to be -my servant for so long." - -"It's a bargain," shouted Mr. Toole--"a bargain, plase your honour, -done and done on both sides. I'm your man--hurra!" - -They had already entered the suburbs, and before many minutes were -involved in the dark and narrow streets, threading their way, as best -they might, toward the genial harbourage of the "Cock and Anchor." - - - - -CHAPTER VI. - -THE SOLDIER--THE NIGHT RAMBLE--AND THE WINDOW THAT LET IN MORE THAN THE -MOONLIGHT. - - -Short as had been O'Connor's sojourn, it nevertheless had been -sufficiently long to satisfy mine host of the "Cock and Anchor," an -acute observer in such particulars, that whatever his object might have -been in avoiding the more fashionably frequented inns of the city, -economy at least had no share in his motive. O'Connor, therefore, had -hardly entered the public room of the inn, when a servant respectfully -informed him that a private chamber was prepared for his reception, if -he desired to occupy it. The proposition suited well with his temper at -the minute, and with all alacrity he followed the waiter, who bowed him -upstairs and through a dingy passage into a room whose claims, if not -to elegance, at least to comfort, could hardly have been equalled, -certainly not excelled, by the more luxurious pretensions of most -modern hotels. - -It was a large, capacious chamber, nearly square, wainscoted with dark -shining wood, and decorated with certain dingy old pictures, which -might have been, for anything to the contrary, appearing in so -uncertain a light, _chefs d'oeuvre_ of the mighty masters of the olden -time: at all events, they looked as warm and comfortable as if they -were. The hearth was broad, deep, and high enough to stable a Kerry -pony, and was surmounted by a massive stone mantelpiece, rudely but -richly carved--abundance of old furniture--tables, at which the saintly -Cromwell might have smoked and boozed, and chairs old enough to have -supported Sir Walter Raleigh himself, were disposed about the room with -a profuseness which argued no niggard hospitality. A pair of wax-lights -burned cheerily upon a table beside the bright crackling fire which -blazed in the huge cavity of the hearth; and O'Connor threw himself -into one of those cumbrons, tall-backed, and well-stuffed chairs, which -are in themselves more potent invitations to the sweet illusive -visitings from the world of fancy and of dreams than all the drugs or -weeds of eastern climes. Thus suffering all his material nature to rest -in absolute repose, he loosed at once the reins of imagination and -memory, and yielded up his mind luxuriously to their mingled realities -and illusions. - -He may have been, perhaps, for two or three hours employed thus -listlessly in chewing the cud of sweet and bitter fancy, when his -meditations were interrupted by a brisk step upon the passage leading -to the apartment in which he sate, instantly succeeded by as brisk a -knocking at the chamber door itself. - -"Is this Mr. O'Connor's chamber?" inquired a voice of peculiar -richness, intonated not unpleasingly with a certain melodious -modification of the brogue, bespeaking a sort of passionate -_devil-may-carishness_ which they say in the good old times wrought -grievous havoc among womankind. The summons was promptly answered by an -invitation to enter; and forthwith the door opened, and a comely man -stepped into the room. The stranger might have seen some fifty or sixty -summers, or even more; for his was one of those joyous, good-humoured, -rubicund visages, upon which time vainly tries to write a wrinkle. His -frame was robust and upright, his stature tall, and there was in his -carriage something not exactly a swagger (for with all his oddities, -the stranger was evidently a gentleman), but a certain rollicking -carelessness, which irresistibly conveyed the character of a reckless, -head-long good-humour and daring, to which nothing could come amiss. In -the hale and jolly features, which many would have pronounced handsome, -were written, in characters which none could mistake, the prevailing -qualities of the man--a gay and sparkling eye, in which lived the very -soul of convivial jollity, harmonized right pleasantly with a smile, no -less of archness than _bonhomie_, and in the brow there was a certain -indescribable cock, which looked half pugnacious and half comic. On the -whole, the stranger, to judge by his outward man, was precisely the -person to take his share in a spree, be the same in joke or earnest--to -tell a good story--finish a good bottle--share his last guinea with -you--or blow your brains out, as the occasion might require. He was -arrayed in a full suit of regimentals, and taken for all in all, one -need hardly have desired a better sample of the dashing, light-hearted, -daredevil Irish soldier of more than a century since. - -"Ah! Major O'Leary," cried O'Connor, starting from his seat, and -grasping the soldier's hand, "I am truly glad to see you; you are the -very man of all others I most require at this moment. I was just about -to have a fit of the blue devils." - -"Blue devils!" exclaimed the major; "don't talk to a youngster like me -of any such infernal beings; but tell me how you are, every inch of -you, and what brings you here?" - -"I never was better; and as to my business," replied O'Connor, "it is -too long and too dull a story to tell you just now; but in the -meantime, let us have a glass of Burgundy; mine host of the 'Cock and -Anchor' boasts a very peculiar cellar." So saying, O'Connor proceeded -to issue the requisite order. - -"That does he, by my soul!" replied the major, with alacrity; "and for -that express reason I invariably make it a point to renew my friendly -intimacy with its contents whenever I visit the metropolis. But I can't -stay more than five minutes, so proceed to operations with all -dispatch." - -"And why all this hurry?" inquired O'Connor. "Where need you go at this -hour?" - -"Faith, I don't precisely know myself," rejoined the soldier; "but I've -a strong impression that my evil genius has contrived a scheme to -inveigle me into a cock-pit not a hundred miles away." - -"I'm sorry for it, with all my heart, Major," replied O'Connor, "since -it robs me of your company." - -"Nay, you must positively come along with me," resumed the major; "I -sip my Burgundy on these express conditions. Don't leave me at these -years without a mentor. I rely upon your prudence and experience; if -you turn me loose upon the town to-night, without a moral guide, upon -my conscience, you have a great deal to answer for. I may be fleeced in -a hell, or milled in a row; and if I fall in with female society, by -the powers of celibacy! I can't answer for the consequences." - -"Sooth to say, Major," rejoined O'Connor, "I'm in no mood for mirth." - -"Come, come! never look so glum," insisted his visitor. "Remember I -have arrived at years of _in_discretion, and must be looked after. -Man's life, my dear fellow, naturally divides itself into three great -stages; the first is that in which the youthful disciple is carefully -instructing his mind, and preparing his moral faculties, in silence, -for all sorts of villainy--this is the season of youth and innocence; -the second is that in which he _practises_ all kinds of rascality--and -this is the flower of manhood, or the prime of life; the third and last -is that in which he strives to make his soul--and this is the period of -dotage. Now, you see, my dear O'Connor, I have unfortunately arrived at -the prime of life, while you are still in the enjoyment of youth and -innocence; I am practising what you are plotting. You are, -unfortunately for yourself, a degree more sober than I; you can -therefore take care that I sin with due discretion--permit me to rob or -murder, without being robbed or murdered in return." - -Here the major filled and quaffed another glass, and then continued,-- - -"In short, I am--to speak in all solemnity and sobriety--so drunk, that -it's a miracle how I mounted these rascally stairs without breaking my -neck. I have no distinct recollection of the passage, except that I -kissed some old hunks instead of the chamber-maid, and pulled his nose -in revenge. I solemnly declare I can neither walk nor think without -assistance; my heels and head are inclined to change places, and I -can't tell the moment the body politic may be capsized. I have no -respect in the world for my intellectual or physical endowments at this -particular crisis; my sight is so infernally acute that I see all -surrounding objects considerably augmented in number; my legs have -asserted their independence, and perform 'Sir Roger de Coverley,' -altogether unsolicited; and my memory and other small mental faculties -have retired for the night. Under those melancholy circumstances, my -dear fellow, you surely won't refuse me the consolation of your -guidance." - -"Had not you better, my dear Major," said O'Connor, "remain with me -quietly here for the night, out of the reach of sharks and sharpers, -male and female? You shall have claret or Burgundy, which you -please--enough to fill a skin!" - -"I can't hold more than a bottle additional," replied the major, -regretfully, "if I can even do that; so you see I'm bereft of domestic -resources, and must look abroad for occupation. The fact is, I expect -to meet one or two fellows whom I want to see, at the place I've named; -so if you can come along with me, and keep me from falling into the -gutters, or any other indiscretion by the way, upon my conscience, you -will confer a serious obligation on me." - -O'Connor plainly perceived that although the major's statement had been -somewhat overcharged, yet that his admissions were not altogether -fanciful; there were in the gallant gentleman's face certain symptoms -of recent conviviality which were not to be mistaken--a perceptible -roll of the eye, and a slight screwing of the lips, which -peculiarities, along with the faintest possible approximation to a -hiccough, and a gentle see-saw vibration of his stalwart person, were -indications highly corroborative of the general veracity of his -confessions. Seeing that, in good earnest, the major was not precisely -in a condition to be trusted with the management of anything pertaining -to himself or others, O'Connor at once resolved to see him, if -possible, safely through his excursion, if after the discussion of the -wine which was now before them, he should persevere in his fancy for a -night ramble. They therefore sate down together in harmonious -fellowship, to discuss the flasks which stood upon the board. - -O'Connor was about to fill his guest's glass for the tenth or twelfth -time, when the major suddenly ejaculated,-- - -"Halt! ground arms! I can no more. Why, you hardened young reprobate, -it's not to make me drunk you're trying? I must keep senses enough to -behave like a Christian at the cock-fight; and, upon my soul! I've very -little rationality to spare at this minute. Put on your hat, and come -without delay, before I'm fairly extinguished." - -O'Connor accordingly donned his hat and cloak, and yielding the major -the double support of his arm on the one side, and of the banisters on -the other, he conducted him safely down the stairs, and with wonderful -steadiness, all things considered, they entered the street, whence, -under the major's direction, they pursued their way. After a silence of -a few minutes, that military functionary exclaimed, with much -gravity,-- - -"I'm a great social philosopher, a great observer, and one who looks -quite through the deeds of men. My dear boy, believe me, this country -is in the process of a great moral reformation; hospitality--which I -take to be the first, and the last, and the only one of all the virtues -of a bishop which is fit for the practice of a gentleman--hospitality, -my dear O'Connor, is rapidly approaching to a climax in this country. I -remember, when I was a little boy, a gentleman might pay a visit of a -week or so to another in the country, and be all the time nothing more -than tipsy--_tipsy_ merely. However, matters gradually improved, and -that stage which philosophers technically term simple drunkenness, -became the standard of hospitality. This passed away, and the sense of -the country, in its silent but irresistible operation, has substituted -_blind_ drunkenness; and in the prophetic spirit of sublime philosophy, -I foresee the arrival of that time when no man can escape the fangs of -hospitality upon any conditions short of brain fever or delirium -tremens." - -As the major delivered this philosophic discourse, he led O'Connor -through several obscure streets and narrow lanes, till at length he -paused in one of the very narrowest and darkest before a dingy brick -house, whose lower windows were secured with heavy bars of iron. The -door, which was so incrusted with dirt and dust that the original paint -was hardly anywhere discernible, stood ajar, and within burned a feeble -and ominous light, so faint and murky, that it seemed fearful of -disclosing the deeds and forms which itself was forced to behold. Into -this dim and suspicious-looking place the major walked, closely -followed by O'Connor. In the hall he was encountered by a huge -savage-looking fellow, who raised his squalid form lazily from a bench -which rested against the wall at the further end, and in a low, gruff -voice, like the incipient growl of a roused watch-dog, inquired what -they wanted there. - -"Why, Mr. Creigan, don't you know Major O'Leary?" inquired that -gentleman. "I and a friend have business here." - -The man muttered something in the way of apology, and opening the dingy -lantern in which burned the wretched tallow candle which half lighted -the place, he snuffed it with his finger and thumb, and while so doing, -desired the major to proceed. Accordingly, with the precision of one -who was familiar with every turn of the place, the gallant officer led -O'Connor through several rooms, lighted in the same dim and shabby way, -into a corridor leading directly to the rearward of the house, and -connecting it with some other detached building. As they threaded this -long passage, the major turned towards O'Connor, who followed him, and -whispered,-- - -"Did you mark that ill-looking fellow in the hall? Poor Creigan!--a -gentleman!--would you think it?--a _gentleman_ by birth, and with a -snug property, too--four hundred good pounds a year, and more--all -gone, like last year's snow, chiefly here in backing mains of his own! -poor dog! I remember him one of the best dressed men on town, and now -he's fain to pick up a few shillings by the week in the place where he -lost his thousands; this is the state of man!" - -As he spoke thus, they had reached the end of the passage. The major -opened the door which terminated the corridor, and thus displayed a -scene which, though commonplace enough in its ingredients, was, -nevertheless, in its _coup d'oeil_, sufficiently striking. In the -centre of a capacious and ill-finished chamber stood a circular -platform, with a high ledge running round it. This arena, some fourteen -feet in diameter, was surrounded by circular benches, which rose one -outside the other, in parallel tiers, to the wall. Upon these seats -were crowded some hundreds of men--a strange mixture; gentlemen of -birth and honour sate side by side with notorious swindlers; noblemen -with coalheavers; simpletons with sharks; the unkempt, greasy locks of -squalid destitution mingled in the curls of the patrician periwig; -aristocratic lace and embroidery were rubbed by the dusty shoulders of -draymen and potboys;--all these gross and glaring contrarieties -reconciled and bound together by one hellish sympathy. All sate locked -in breathless suspense, every countenance fixed in the hard lines of -intense, excited anxiety and vigilance; all leaned forward to gaze upon -the combat whose crisis was on the point of being determined. Those who -occupied the back seats had started up, and pressing forward, almost -crushed those in front of them to death. Every aperture in this living -pile was occupied by some eager, haggard, or ruffian face; and, spite -of all the pushing, and crowding, and bustling, all were silent, as if -the powers of voice and utterance were unknown among them. - -The effect of this scene, so suddenly presented--the crowd of -ill-looking and anxious faces, the startling glare of light, and the -unexpected rush of hot air from the place--all so confounded him, that -O'Connor did not for some moments direct his attention to the object -upon which the gaze of the fascinated multitude was concentrated; when -he did so he beheld a spectacle, abstractedly, very disproportioned in -interest to the passionate anxiety of which it was the subject. Two -game cocks, duly trimmed, and having the long and formidable steel -weapons with which the humane ingenuity of "the fancy" supplies the -natural spur of the poor biped, occupied the centre of the circular -stage which we have described; one of the birds lay upon his back, -beneath the other, which had actually sent his spurs through and -through his opponent's neck. In this posture the wounded animal lay, -with his beak open, and the blood trickling copiously through it upon -the board. The victorious bird crowed loud and clear, and a buzz began -to spread through the spectators, as if the battle were already -determined, and suspense at an end. The "law" had just expired, and the -gentlemen whose business it was to _handle_ the birds were preparing to -withdraw them. - -"Twenty to one on the grey cock," exclaimed a large, ill-looking -fellow, who sat close to the pit, clutching his arms in his brawny -hands, as if actually hugging himself with glee, while he gazed with an -exulting grin upon the combat, whose issue seemed now beyond the reach -of chance. The challenge was, of course, unaccepted. - -"Fifty to one!" exclaimed the same person, still more ecstatically. -"One hundred to one--_two_ hundred to one!" - -"I'll give you one guinea to two hundred," exclaimed perhaps the -coolest gambler in that select assembly, young Henry Ashwoode, who sat -also near the front. - -"Done, Mr. Ashwoode--done with _you_; it's a bet, sir," said the same -ill-looking fellow. - -"Done, sir," replied Ashwoode. - - [Illustration: "Again the conqueror crowed the shrill note of - victory." - _To face page 34_.] - -Again the conqueror crowed the shrill note of victory, and all seemed -over, when, on a sudden, by one of those strange vicissitudes of which -the annals of the cock-pit afford so many examples, the dying bird--it -may be roused by the vaunting challenge of his antagonist--with one -convulsive spasm, struck both his spurs through and through the head of -his opponent, who dropped dead upon the table, while the wounded bird, -springing to his legs, flapped his wings, as if victory had never -hovered, and then as momentarily fell lifeless on the board, by this -last heroic feat winning a main on which many thousands of pounds -depended. A silence for a moment ensued, and then there followed the -loud exulting cheers of some, and the hoarse, bitter blasphemies of -others, clamorous expostulation, hoarse laughter, curses, congratulations, -and invectives--all mingled with the noise occasioned by those who came -in or went out, the shuffling and pounding of feet, in one torrentuous -and stunning volume of sound. - -Young Ashwoode having secured and settled all his bets, shouldered his -way through the crowd, and with some difficulty, reached the door at -which Major O'Leary and O'Connor were standing. - -"How do you do, uncle? Were you in the room when I took the two hundred -to one?" inquired the young man. - -"By my conscience, I was, Hal, and wish you joy with all my heart. It -was a sporting bet on both sides, and as game a fight as the world ever -saw." - -"I must be off," continued the young man. "I promised to look in at -Lady Stukely's to-night; but before I go, you must know they are all -affronted with you at the manor. The girls are positively outrageous, -and desired me to command your presence to-morrow on pain of -excommunication." - -"Give my tender regards to them both," replied the major, "and assure -them that I will be proud to obey them. But don't you know my friend -O'Connor," he added, in a lower tone, "you are old acquaintances, I -believe?" - -"Unless my memory deceives me, I have had the honour of meeting Mr. -O'Connor before," said the young man, with a cold bow, which was -returned by O'Connor with more than equal _hauteur_. "Recollect, uncle, -no excuses," added young Ashwoode, as he retreated from the -chamber--"you have promised to give to-morrow to the girls. Adieu." - -"There goes as finished a specimen of a mad-cap, rake-helly young devil -as ever carried the name of Ashwoode or the blood of the O'Leary's," -observed the uncle; "but come, we must look to the sport." - -So saying, the major, exerting his formidable strength, and -accompanying his turbulent progress with a large distribution of -apologetic and complimentary speeches of the most high-flown kind, -shoved and jostled his way to a vacant place near the front of the -benches, and, seating himself there, began to give and take bets to a -large amount upon the next main. Tired of the noise, and nearly stifled -with the heat of the place, O'Connor, seeing that the major was -resolved to act independently of him, thought that he might as well -consult his own convenience as stay there to be stunned and suffocated -without any prospect of expediting the major's retreat; he therefore -turned about and retraced his steps through the passage which we have -mentioned. The grateful coolness of the air, and the lassitude induced -by the scene in which he had taken a part, though no very prominent -one, induced him to pause in the first room to which the passage, as we -have said, gave access; and happening to espy a bench in one of the -recesses of the windows, he threw himself upon it, thoroughly to -receive the visitings of the cool, hovering air. As he lay listless and -silently upon this rude couch, he was suddenly disturbed by a sound of -someone treading the yard beneath. A figure sprang across toward the -window; and almost instantaneously Larry Toole--for the moonlight -clearly revealed the features of the intruder--was presented at the -aperture, and with an energetic spring, accompanied by a no less -energetic, devotional ejaculation, that worthy vaulted into the -chamber, agitated, excited, and apparently at his wits' end. - - - - -CHAPTER VII. - -THREE GRIM FIGURES IN A LONELY LANE--TWO QUEER GUESTS RIDING TO TONY -BLIGH'S--THE WATCHER IN DANGER--AND THE HIGHWAYMEN. - - -A liberal and unsolicited attention to the affairs of other people, was -one among the many amiable peculiarities of Mr. Laurence Toole: he had -hardly, therefore, seen the major and O'Connor fairly beyond the -threshold of the "Cock and Anchor," when he donned his cocked hat and -followed their steps, allowing, however, an interval sufficiently long -to secure himself against detection. Larry Toole well knew the purposes -to which the squalid mansion which we have described was dedicated, and -having listened for a few moments at the door, to allow his master and -his companion time to reach the inner sanctuary of vice and brutality, -whither it was the will of Major O'Leary to lead his reluctant friend, -this faithful squire entered at the half-open door, and began to -traverse the passage which we have before mentioned. He was not, -however, permitted long to do so undisturbed. The grim sentinel of -these unhallowed regions on a sudden upreared his towering proportions, -heaving his huge shoulders with a very unpleasant appearance of -preparation for an effort, and with two or three formidable strides, -brought himself up with the presumptuous intruder. - -"What do _you_ want here--eh! you d----d scarecrow?" exclaimed the -porter, in a tone which made the very walls to vibrate. - -Larry was too much astounded to reply--he therefore remained mute and -motionless. - -"See, my good cove," observed the gaunt porter, in the same impressive -accents of admonition--"make yourself scarce, d'ye mind; and if you -want to see the pit, go round--we don't let potboys and pickpockets in -at this side--cut and run, or I'll have to give you a lift." - -Larry was no poltroon; but another glance at the colossal frame of the -porter quelled effectually whatever pugnacious movements might have -agitated his soul; and the little man, having deigned one look of -infinite contempt, which told his antagonist, as plainly as any look -could do, that he owed his personal safety solely and exclusively to -the sublime and unmerited pity of Mr. Laurence Toole, that dignified -individual turned on his heel, and withdrew somewhat precipitately -through the door which he had just entered. - -The porter grinned, rolled his quid luxuriously till it made the grand -tour of his mouth, shrugged his square shoulders, and burst into a -harsh chuckle. Such triumphs as the one he had just enjoyed, were the -only sweet drops which mingled in the bitter cup of his savage -existence. Meanwhile, our romantic friend, traversing one or two dark -lanes, made his way easily enough to the more public entrance of this -temple of fortune. The door which our friend Larry now approached lay -at the termination of a long and narrow lane, enclosed on each side -with dead walls of brick--at the far end towered the dark outline of -the building, and over the arched doorway burned a faint and dingy -light, without strength enough to illuminate even the bricks against -which it hung, and serving only in nights of extraordinary darkness as -a dim, solitary star, by which the adventurous night rambler might -shape his course. The moon, however, was now shining broad and clear -into the broken lane, revealing every inequality and pile of rubbish -upon its surface, and throwing one side of the enclosure into black, -impenetrable shadow. Without premeditation or choice, it happened that -our friend Larry was walking at the dark side of the lane, and shrouded -in the deep obscurity he advanced leisurely toward the doorway. As he -proceeded, his attention was arrested by a figure which presented -itself at the entrance of the building, accompanied by two others, as -it appeared, about to pass forth into the lane through which he himself -was moving. They were engaged in animated debate as they -approached--the conversation was conducted in low and earnest -tones--their gestures were passionate and sudden--their progress -interrupted by many halts--and the party evinced certain sinister -indications of uneasy vigilance and caution, which impressed our friend -with a dark suspicion of mischief, which was strengthened by his -recognition of two of the persons composing the little group. His -curiosity was irresistibly piqued, and he instinctively paused, lest -the sound of his advancing steps should disturb the conference, and -more than half in the undefined hope that he might catch the substance -of their conversation before his presence should be detected. In this -object he was perfectly successful. - -In the form which first offered itself, he instantly detected the -well-known proportions and features of young Ashwoode's groom, who had -attended his master into town; and in company with this fellow stood a -person whom Larry had just as little difficulty in recognizing as a -ruffian who had twice escaped the gallows by the critical interposition -of fortune--once by a flaw in the indictment, and again through lack of -sufficient evidence in law--each time having stood his trial on a -charge of murder. It was not very wonderful, then, that this startling -companionship between his old fellow-servant and Will Harris (or, as he -was popularly termed, "Brimstone Bill") should have piqued the -curiosity of so inquisitive a person as Larry Toole. - -In company with these worthies was a third, wrapped in a heavy -riding-coat, and who now and then slightly took part in the -conversation. They all talked in low, earnest whispers, casting many a -stealthy glance backward as they advanced through the dim avenue toward -our curious friend. - -As the party approached, Larry ensconced himself in the recess formed -by the projection of two dilapidated brick piers, between which hung a -crazy door, and in whose front there stood a mound of rubbish some -three feet in height. In such a position he not unreasonably thought -himself perfectly secure. - -"Why, what the devil ails you now, you cursed cowardly ninny," -whispered Brimstone Bill, through his set teeth--"what can happen -_you_, win or lose?--turn up black, or turn up red, is it not all one -to you, you _mouth_, you? _Your_ carcase is safe and sound--then what -do you funk for now? Rouse yourself, you d----d idiot, or I'll drive a -brace of lead pellets through your brains--rouse yourself!" - -Thus speaking, he shook the groom roughly by the collar. - -"Stop, Bill--hands off," muttered the man, sulkily--"I'm not -funking--you know I'm not; but I don't want to see him _finished_--I -don't want to see him murdered when there's no occasion for it--there's -no great harm in that; we want his _ribben_, not his blood; there's no -profit in taking his life." - -"Booby! listen to me," replied the ruffian, in the same tone of intense -impatience. "What do _I_ want with his life any more than you do? -Nothing. Do not I wish to do the thing genteelly as much as you? He -shall not lose a drop of blood, nor his skin have a scratch, if he -knows how to behave and be a good boy. Bah! we need but show him the -_lead towels_, and the job's done. Look you, I and Jack will sit in the -private room of the 'Bleeding Horse.' Old Tony's a trump, and asks no -questions; so, as you pass, give the window a skelp of the whip, and -we'll be out in the snapping of a flint. Leave the rest to us. You have -your instructions, you _kedger_, so act up to them, and the devil -himself can't spoil our sport." - -"You may look out for us, then," said the servant, "in less than two -hours. He never stays late at Lady Stukely's, and he must be home -before two o'clock." - -"Do not forget to grease the hammers," suggested the fellow in the -heavy coat. - -"He doesn't carry pistols to-night," replied the attendant. - -"So much the better--all _my_ luck," exclaimed Brimstone--"I would not -swap luck with the chancellor." - -"The devil's children, they say," observed the gentleman in the large -coat, "have the devil's luck." - -These were the last words Larry Toole could distinguish as the party -moved onward. He ventured, however, although with grievous tremors, to -peep out of his berth to ascertain the movements of the party. They all -stopped at a distance of some twenty or thirty yards from the spot -where he crouched, and for a time appeared again absorbed in earnest -debate. On a sudden, however, the fellow in the riding-coat, having -frequently looked suspiciously up the lane in which they stood, stooped -down, and, picking up a large stone, hurled it with his whole force in -the direction of the embrasure in which Larry was lurking. The missile -struck the projecting pier within a yard of that gentleman's head, with -so much force that the stone burst into fragments and descended in a -shower of splinters about his ears. This astounding salute was -instantly followed by an occurrence still more formidable--for the -ruffian, not satisfied with the test already applied, strode up in -person to the doorway in which Larry had placed himself. It was well -for that person that he was sheltered in front by the mass of rubbish -which we have mentioned: at the foot of this he lay coiled, not daring -even to breathe; every moment expecting to feel the cold point of the -villain's sword poking against his ribs, and half inclined to start -upon his feet and shout for help, although conscious that to do so -would scarcely leave him a chance for his life. The suspicions of the -wretch were, fortunately for Larry, ill-directed. He planted one foot -upon the heap of loose materials which, along with the deep shadow, -constituted poor Mr. Toole's only safeguard; and while the stones which -his weight dislodged rolled over that prostrate person, he pushed open -the door and gazed into the yard, lest any inquisitive ear or eye might -have witnessed more than was consistent with the safety of the -confederates of Brimstone Bill. The fellow was satisfied, and returned -whistling, with affected carelessness, towards his comrades. - -More dead than alive, Larry remained mute and motionless for many -minutes, not daring to peep forth from his hiding-place; when at length -he mustered courage to do so, he saw the two robbers still together, -and again shrunk back into his retreat. Luckily for the poor wight, the -fellow who had looked into the yard left the door unclosed, which, -after a little time perceiving, Larry glided stealthily in on all -fours, and in a twinkling sprang into the window at which his master -lay, as we have already recorded. - - - - -CHAPTER VIII. - -THE WARNING--SHOWING HOW LARRY TOOLE FARED--WHOM HE SAW AND WHAT HE -SAID--AND HOW MUCH GOOD AND HOW LITTLE HE DID--AND MOREOVER RELATING -HOW SOMEBODY WAS LAID IN THE MIRE--AND HOW HENRY ASHWOODE PUT HIS FOOT -IN THE STIRRUP. - - -Flurried and frightened as Larry was, his agitation was not strong -enough to overcome in him the national, instinctive abhorrence of the -character of an informer. To the close interrogatories of his master, -he returned but vague and evasive answers. A few dark hints he threw -out as to the cause of his alarm, but preserved an impenetrable silence -respecting alike its particular nature and the persons of whose -participation in the scheme he was satisfied. - -In language incoherent and nearly unintelligible from excitement, he -implored O'Connor to allow him to absent himself for about one hour, -promising the most important results, in case his request was complied -with, and vowing upon his return to tell him everything about the -matter from beginning to end. - -Seeing the agonized earnestness of the man, though wholly uninformed of -the cause of his uneasiness, which Larry constantly refused to divulge, -O'Connor granted him the permission which he desired, and both left the -building together. O'Connor pursued his way to the "Cock and Anchor," -where, restored to his chamber and to solitude, he abandoned himself -once more to the current of his wayward thoughts. - -Our friend Larry, however, was no sooner disengaged from his master, -than he began, at his utmost speed, to thread the narrow and -complicated lanes and streets which lay between the haunt of profligacy -which we have just described, and the eastern extremity of the city. -After an interrupted run of nearly half an hour through pitchy dark and -narrow streets, he emerged into Stephen's Green; at the eastern side of -which, among other buildings of lesser note, there then stood, and -perhaps (with a new face, and some slight external changes) still -stands, a large and handsome mansion. Toward this building, conspicuous -in the distance by the red glare of dozens of links and torches which -flared and flashed outside, and by the gay light streaming from its -many windows, Larry made his way. Too eager and hurried to pass along -the sides of the square by the common road, he clambered over the -broken wall which surrounded it, plunged through the broad trench, and -ran among the deep grass and rank weeds, now heavy with the dews of -night; over the broad area he pursued his way, startling the quiet -cattle from their midnight slumbers, and hastening rather than abating -his speed, as he drew near to the termination of his hurried mission. -As he approached, the long dark train of carriages, every here and -there lighted by some flaming link still unextinguished, and surrounded -by crowds of idle footmen, sufficiently indicated the scene of Lady -Stukely's hospitalities. In a moment Larry had again crossed the fences -which enclosed the square, and passing the broad road among the -carriages, chairs, and lackeys, he sprang up the steps of the house, -and thundered lustily at the hall-door. It was opened by a gruff and -corpulent porter with a red face and majestic demeanour, who, having -learned from Larry that he had an important message for Mr. Henry -Ashwoode, desired him, in as few words as possible, to step into the -hall. The official then swung the massive door to, rolled himself into -his well-cushioned throne, and having scanned Larry's proportions for a -minute or two with one eye, which he kept half open for such purposes, -he ejaculated-- - -"Mr. Finley, I say, Mr. Finley, here's one with a message upwards." -Having thus delivered himself, he shut down his open eye, screwed his -eyebrows, and became absorbed in abstruse meditation. Meanwhile, Mr. -Finley, in person arrayed in a rich livery, advanced languidly toward -Larry Toole, throwing into his face a dreamy and supercilious -expression, while with one hand he faintly fanned himself with a white -pocket handkerchief. - -"Your most obedient servant to command," drawled the footman, as he -advanced. "What can I do, my good soul, to _obleege_ you?" - -"I only want to see the young master--that's young Mr. Ashwoode," -replied Larry, "for one minute, and that's all." - -The footman gazed upon him for a moment with a languid smile, and -observed in the same sleepy tone, "Absolutely impossible--_amposseeble_, -as they say at the Pallais Royal." - -"But, blur an' agers," exclaimed Larry, "it's a matther iv life an' -death, robbery an' murdher." - -"Bloody murder!" echoed the man in a sweet, low voice, and with a stare -of fashionable abstraction. - -"Well, tear an' 'oun's," cried Larry, almost beside himself with -impatience, "if you won't bring him down to me, will you even as much -as carry him a message?" - -"To say the truth, and upon my honour," replied the man, "I can't -engage to climb up stairs just now, they are so devilish fatiguing. -Don't you find them so?" - -The question was thrown out in that vacant, inattentive way which seems -to dispense with an answer. - -"By my soul!" rejoined Larry, almost crying with vexation, "it's a hard -case. Do you mane to tell me, you'll neither bring him down to me nor -carry him up a message?" - -"You have, my excellent fellow," replied the footman, placidly, -"precisely conveyed my meaning." - -"By the hokey!" cried Larry, "you're fairly breaking my heart. In the -divil's name, can you as much as let me stop here till he's comin' -down?" - -"Absolutely impossible," replied the footman, in the same dulcet and -deliberate tone. "It is indeed _amposseeble_, as the Parisians have it. -You _must_ be aware, my good old soul, that you're in a positive -pickle. You are, pardon me, my excellent friend, very dirty and very -disgusting. You must therefore go out in a few moments into the fresh -air." At any other moment, such a speech would have infallibly provoked -Mr. Toole's righteous and most rigorous vengeance; but he was now too -completely absorbed in the mission which he had undertaken to suffer -personal considerations to have a place in his bosom. - -"Will you, then," he ejaculated desperately, "will you as much as give -him a message yourself, when he's comin' down?" - -"What message?" drawled the lackey. - -"Tell him, for the love of God, to take the _old_ road home, by the -seven sallies," replied Larry. "Will you give him that message, if it -isn't too long?" - -"I have a wretched memory for messages," observed the footman, as he -leisurely opened the door--"a perfect sieve: but should he catch my eye -as he passes, I'll endeavour, upon my honour; good night--adieu!" - -As he thus spoke, Larry had reached the threshold of the door, which -observing, the polished footman, with a _nonchalant_ and easy air, -slammed the hall-door, thereby administering upon Larry's back, -shoulders, and elbows, such a bang as to cause Mr. Toole to descend the -flight of steps at a pace much more marvellous to the spectators than -agreeable to himself. Muttering a bitter curse upon his exquisite -acquaintance, Larry took his stand among the expectants in the street; -there resolved to wait and watch for young Ashwoode, and to give him -the warning which so nearly concerned his safety. - -Meanwhile, Lady Stukely's drawing-rooms were crowded by the gay, the -fashionable, and the frivolous, of all ages. Young Ashwoode stood -behind his wealthy hostess's chair, while she played quadrille, scarce -knowing whether she won or lost, for Henry Ashwoode had never been so -fascinating before. Lady Stukely was a delicate, die-away lady, not -very far from sixty; the natural blush upon her nose outblazoned the -rouge upon her cheeks; several very long teeth--"ivory and ebon -alternately"--peeped roguishly from beneath her upper lip, which her -ladyship had a playful trick of screwing down, to conceal them--a trick -which made her ladyship's smile rather a surprising than an attractive -exhibition. It is but justice, however, to admit that she had a pair of -very tolerable eyes, with which she executed the most masterly -evolutions. For the rest, there having existed a very considerable -disparity in years between herself and her dear deceased, Sir Charles -Stukely, who had expired at the mature age of ninety, more than a year -before, she conceived herself still a very young, artless, and -interesting girl; and under this happy hallucination she was more than -half inclined to return in good earnest the disinterested affection of -Henry Ashwoode. - -There, too, was old Lord Aspenly, who had, but two days before, -solicited and received Sir Richard Ashwoode's permission to pay his -court to his beautiful daughter, Mary. There, jerking and shrugging and -grimacing, he hobbled through the rooms, all wrinkles and rappee; -bandying compliments and repartees, flirting and fooling, and beyond -measure enchanted with himself, while every interval in frivolity and -noise was filled up with images of his approaching nuptials and -intended bride, while she, poor girl, happily unconscious of all their -plans, was spared, for that night, the pangs and struggles which were -hereafter but too severely to try her heart. - -'Twere needless to enumerate noble peers, whose very titles are now -unknown--poets, who alas! were mortal--men of promise, who performed -nothing--clever young men, who grew into stupid old ones--and -millionaires, whose money perished with them; we shall not, therefore, -weary the reader by describing Lady Stukely's guests; let it suffice to -mention that Henry Ashwoode left the rooms with young Pigwiggynne, of -Bolton's regiment of dragoons, and one of Lord Wharton's aides-de-camp. -This circumstance is here recorded because it had an effect in -producing the occurrences which we have to relate by-and-by; for young -Pigwiggynne having partaken somewhat freely of Lady Stukely's wines, -and being unusually exhilarated, came forth from the hall-door to -assist Ashwoode in procuring a chair, which he did with a good deal -more noise and blasphemy than was strictly necessary. Our friend Larry -Toole, who had patiently waited the egress of his _quondam_ young -master, no sooner beheld him than he hastened to accost him, but -Pigwiggynne being, as we have said, in high spirits and unusual good -humour, cut short poor Larry's address by jocularly knocking him on the -head with a heavy walking-cane--a pleasantry which laid that person -senseless upon the pavement. The humorist passed on with an -exhilarating crow, after the manner of a cock; and had not a -matter-of-fact chairman drawn Mr. Toole from among the coach-wheels -where the joke had happened to lay him, we might have been saved the -trouble of recording the subsequent history of that very active member -of society. Meanwhile, young Ashwoode was conveyed in a chair to a -neighbouring fashionable hotel, where, having changed his suit, and -again equipped himself for the road, he mounted his horse, and followed -by his treacherous groom, set out at a brisk pace upon his hazardous, -and as it turned out, eventful night-ride toward the manor of Morley -Court. - - - - -CHAPTER IX. - -THE "BLEEDING HORSE"--HOLLANDS AND PIPES FOR TWO--EVERY BULLET HAS ITS -BILLET. - - -At the time in which the events that we have undertaken to record took -place, there stood at the southern extremity of the city, near the -point at which Camden Street now terminates, a small, old-fashioned -building, something between an ale-house and an inn. It occupied the -roadside by no means unpicturesquely; one gable jutted into the road, -with a projecting window, which stood out from the building like a -glass box held together by a massive frame of wood; and commanded by -this projecting gable, and a few yards in retreat, but facing the road, -was the inn door, over which hung a painted panel, representing a white -horse, out of whose neck there spouted a crimson cascade, and -underneath, in large letters, the traveller was informed that this was -the genuine old "Bleeding Horse." Old enough, in all conscience, it -appeared to be, for the tiled roof, except where the ivy clustered over -it, was crowded with weeds of many kinds, and the boughs of the huge -trees which embowered it had cracked and shattered one of the cumbrous -chimney-stacks, and in many places it was evident that but for the -timely interposition of the saw and the axe, the giant limbs of the old -timber would, in the gradual increase of years, have forced their way -through the roof and the masonry itself--a tendency sufficiently -indicated by sundry indentures and rude repairs in those parts of the -building most exposed to such casualties. Upon the night in which the -events that are recorded in the immediately preceding chapters -occurred, two horsemen rode up to this inn, and leisurely entering the -stable yard, dismounted, and gave their horses in charge to a ragged -boy who acted as hostler, directing him with a few very impressive -figures of rhetoric, on no account to loosen girth or bridle, or to -suffer the beasts to stir one yard from the spot where they stood. This -matter settled, they entered the house. Both were muffled; the one--a -large, shambling fellow--wore a capacious riding-coat; the other--a -small, wiry man--was wrapped in a cloak; both wore their hats pressed -down over their brows, and had drawn their mufflers up, so as to -conceal the lower part of the face. The lesser of the two men, leaving -his companion in the passage, opened a door, within which were a few -fellows drowsily toping, and one or two asleep. In a chair by the fire -sat Tony Bligh, the proprietor of the "Bleeding Horse," a middle-aged -man, rather corpulent, as pale as tallow, and with a sly, ugly squint. -The little man in the cloak merely introduced his head and shoulders, -and beckoned with his thumb. The signal, though scarcely observed by -one other of the occupants of the room, was instantly and in silence -obeyed by the landlord, who, casting one uneasy glance round, glided -across the floor, and was in the passage almost as soon as the -gentleman in the cloak. - -"Here, Tony, boy," whispered the man, as the innkeeper approached, -"fetch us a pint of Hollands, a couple of pipes, and a glim; but first -turn the key in this door here, and come yourself, do ye mind?" - -Tony squeezed the speaker's arm in token of acquiescence, and turning a -key gently in the lock, he noiselessly opened the door which Brimstone -Bill had indicated, and the two cavaliers strode into the dark and -vacant chamber. Brimstone walked to the window, pushed open the -casement, and leaned out. The beautiful moon was shining above the old -and tufted trees which lined the quiet road; he looked up and down the -shaded avenue, but nothing was moving upon it, save the varying shadows -as the night wind swung the branches to and fro. He listened, but no -sound reached his ears, excepting the rustling and moaning of the -boughs, through which the breeze was fitfully soughing. - -Scarcely had he drawn back again into the room, when Tony returned with -the refreshments which the gentleman had ordered, and with a dark -lantern enclosing a lighted candle. - -"Right, old cove," said Bill. "I see you hav'n't forgot the trick of -the trade. Who are your _pals_ inside?" - -"Three of them sleep here to-night," replied Tony. "They're all quiet -coves enough, such as doesn't hear nor see any more than they ought." - -The two fellows filled a pipe each, and lighted them at the lantern. - -"What mischief are you after now, Bill?" inquired the host, with a -peculiar leer. - -"Why should _I_ be after any mischief," replied Brimstone jocularly, -"any more than a sucking dove, eh? Do I look like mischief to-night, -old tickle-pitcher--do I?" - -He accompanied the question with a peculiar grin, which mine host -answered by a prolonged wink of no less peculiar significance. - -"Well, Tony boy," rejoined Bill, "maybe I _am_ and maybe I -_ain't_--that's the way: but mind, you did not see a stim of me, nor of -_him_, to-night (glancing at his comrade), nor ever, for that matter. -But you did see two ill-looking fellows not a bit like us; and I have a -notion that these two chaps will manage to get into a sort of shindy -before an hour's over, and then _mizzle_ at once; and if all goes well, -your hand shall be crossed with gold to-night." - -"Bill, Bill," said the landlord, with a smile of exquisite relish, and -drawing his hand coaxingly over the man's forehead, so as to smooth the -curls of his periwig nearly into his eyes, "you're just the same old -dodger--you are the devil's own bird--you have not cast a feather." - -It is hard to say how long this tender scene might have continued, had -not the other ruffian knocked his knuckles sharply on the table, and -cried-- - -"Hist! brother--_chise_ it--enough fooling--I hear a horse-shoe on the -road." - -All held their breath, and remained motionless for a time. The fellow -was, however, mistaken. Bill again advanced to the window, and gazed -intently through the long vista of trees. - -"There's not a bat stirring," said he, returning to the table, and -filling out successively two glasses of spirits, he emptied them both. -"Meanwhile, Tony," continued he, "get back to your company. Some of the -fellows may be poking their noses into this place. If you don't hear -_from_ me, at all events you'll hear of me before an hour. Hop the -twig, boy, and keep all hard in for a bit--skip." - -With a roguish grin and a shake of the fist, honest Tony, not caring to -dispute the commands of his friend, of whose temper he happened to know -something, stealthily withdrew from the room, where we, too, shall for -a time leave these worthy gentlemen of the road vigilantly awaiting the -approach of their victim. - - -Larry Toole had no sooner recovered his senses--which was in less than -a minute--than he at once betook himself to the "Cock and Anchor," -resolved, as the last resource, to inform O'Connor of the fact that an -attack was meditated. Accordingly, he hastened with very little -ceremony into the presence of his master, told him that young Ashwoode -was to be waylaid upon the road, near the "Bleeding Horse," and -implored him, without the loss of a moment, to ride in that direction, -with a view, if indeed it might not already be too late, to intercept -his passage, and forewarn him of the danger which awaited him. - -Without waiting to ask one useless question, O'Connor, before five -minutes were passed, was mounted on his trusty horse, and riding at a -hard pace through the dark streets towards the point of danger. - -Meanwhile, young Ashwoode, followed by his mounted attendant, proceeded -at a brisk trot in the direction of the manor; his brain filled with a -thousand busy thoughts and schemes, among which, not the least -important, were sundry floating calculations as to the probable and -possible amount of Lady Stukely's jointure, as well as some conjectures -respecting the _maximum_ duration of her ladyship's life. Involved in -these pleasing ruminations, sometimes crossed by no less agreeable -recollections, in which the triumphs of vanity and the successes of the -gaming-table had their share, he had now reached that shadowy and -silent part of the road at which stood the little inn, embowered in the -great old trees, and peeping forth with a sort of humble and friendly -aspect, but ill-according with the dangerous designs it served to -shelter. - -Here the servant, falling somewhat further behind, brought his horse -close under the projecting window of the inn as he passed, and with a -sharp cut of his whip gave the concerted signal. Before sixty seconds -had elapsed, two well-mounted cavaliers were riding at a hard gallop in -their wake. At this headlong pace, the foremost of the two horsemen had -passed Ashwoode by some dozen yards, when, checking his horse so -suddenly as to throw him back upon his haunches, he wheeled him round, -and plunging the spurs deep into his flanks, with two headlong springs, -he dashed him madly upon the young man's steed, hurling the beast and -his rider to the earth. Tremendous as was the fall, young Ashwoode, -remarkable alike for personal courage and activity, was in a moment -upon his feet, with his sword drawn, ready to receive the assault of -the ruffian. - -"Let go your skiver--drop it, you greenhorn," cried the fellow, -hoarsely, as he wheeled round his plunging horse, and drew a pistol -from the holster, "or, by the eternal ----, I'll blow your head into -dust!" - -Young Ashwoode attempted to seize the reins of the fellow's horse, and -made a desperate pass at the rider. - -"Take it, then," cried the fellow, thrusting the muzzle of the pistol -into Ashwoode's face and drawing the trigger. Fortunately for Ashwoode, -the pistol missed fire, and almost at the same moment the rapid clang -of a horse's hoofs, accompanied by the loud shout of menace, broke -startlingly upon his ear. Happy was this interruption for Henry -Ashwoode, for, stunned and dizzy from the shock, he at that moment -tottered, and in the next was prostrate upon the ground. "Blowed, by -----!" cried the villain, furiously, as the unwelcome sounds reached -his ears, and dashing the spurs into his horse, he rode at a furious -gallop down the road towards the country. This scene occupied scarce -six seconds in the acting. Brimstone Bill, who had but a moment before -come up to the succour of his comrade, also heard the rapid approach of -the galloping hoofs upon the road; he knew that before he could count -fifty seconds the new comer would have arrived. A few moments, however, -he thought he could spare--important moments they turned out to be to -one of the party. Bill kept his eye steadily fixed upon the point some -three or four hundred yards distant at which he knew the horseman whose -approach was announced must first appear. - -In that brief moment, the cool-headed villain had rapidly calculated -the danger of the groom's committing his accomplices through want of -coolness and presence of mind, should he himself, as was not unlikely, -become suspected. The groom's pistols were still loaded, and he had -taken no part in the conflict. Brimstone Bill fixed a stern glance upon -his companion while all these and other thoughts flashed like lightning -across his brain. - -"Darby," said he, hurriedly, to the man who sat half-stupefied in the -saddle close beside him, "blaze off the lead towels--crack them off, I -say." - -Bill impatiently leaned forward, and himself drew the pistols from the -groom's saddle-bow; he fired one of them in the air--he cocked the -other. "This dolt will play the devil with us all," thought he, looking -with a peculiar expression at the bewildered servant. With one hand he -grasped him by the collar to steady his aim, and with the other, -suddenly thrusting the pistol to his ear, and drawing the trigger, he -blew the wretched man's head into fragments like a potsherd; and -wheeling his horse's head about, he followed his comrade pell-mell, -beating the sparks in showers from the stony road at every plunge. - -All this occurred in fewer moments than it has taken us lines to -describe it; and before our friend Brimstone Bill had secured the odds -which his safety required, O'Connor was thundering at a furious gallop -within less than a hundred yards of him. Bill saw that his pursuer was -better mounted than he--to escape, therefore, by a fair race was out of -the question. His resolution was quickly taken. By a sudden and -powerful effort he reined in his horse at a single pull, and, with one -rearing wheel, brought him round upon his antagonist; at the same time, -drawing one of the large pistols from the saddle-bow, he rested it -deliberately upon his bridle-arm, and fired at his pursuer, now within -twenty yards of him. The ball passed so close to O'Connor's head that -his ear rang shrilly with the sound of it for hours after. They had now -closed; the highwayman drew his second pistol from the holster, and -each fired at the same instant. O'Connor's shot was well directed--it -struck his opponent in the bridle-arm, a little below the shoulder, -shattering the bone to splinters. With a hoarse shriek of agony, the -fellow, scarce knowing what he did, forced the spurs into his horse's -sides; and the animal reared, wheeled, and bore its rider at a reckless -speed in the direction which his companion had followed. - -It was well for him that the shot, which at the same moment he had -discharged, had not been altogether misdirected. O'Connor, indeed, -escaped unscathed, but the ball struck his horse between the eyes, and -piercing the brain, the poor beast reared upright and fell dead upon -the road. Extricating himself from the saddle, O'Connor returned to the -spot where young Ashwoode and the servant still lay. Stunned and dizzy -with the fall which he had had, the excitement of actual conflict was -no sooner over, than Ashwoode sank back into a state of insensibility. -In this condition O'Connor found him, pale as death, and apparently -lifeless. Raising him against the grassy bank at the roadside, and -having cast some water from a pool close by into his face, he saw him -speedily recover. - -"Mr. O'Connor," said Ashwoode, as soon as he was sufficiently restored, -"you have saved my life--how can I thank you?" - -"Spare your thanks, sir," replied O'Connor, haughtily; "for any man I -would have done as much--for anyone bearing your name I would do much -more. Are you hurt, sir?" - -"O'Connor, I have done you much injustice," said the young man, -betrayed for the moment into something like genuine feeling. "You must -forget and forgive it--I know your feelings respecting others of my -family--henceforward I will be your friend--do not refuse my hand." - -"Henry Ashwoode," replied O'Connor, "I take your hand--gladly -forgetting all past causes of resentment--but I want no vows of -friendship, which to-morrow you may regret. Act with regard to me -henceforward as if this night had not been--for I tell you truly again, -that I would have done as much for the meanest peasant breathing as I -have done to-night for you; and once more I pray you tell me, are you -much hurt?" - -"Nothing, nothing," replied Ashwoode--"merely a fall such as I have had -a thousand times after the hounds. It has made my head swim -confoundedly; but I'll soon be steady. What, in the meantime, has -become of honest Darby? If I mistake not, I see his horse browsing -there by the roadside." - -A few steps showed them what seemed a bundle of clothes lying heaped -upon the road; they approached it--it was the body of the servant. - -"Get up, Darby--get up, man," cried Ashwoode, at the same time pressing -the prostrate figure with his boot. It had been lying with the back -uppermost, and in a half-kneeling attitude; it now, however, rolled -round, and disclosed, in the bright moonlight, the hideous aspect of -the murdered man--the head a mere mass of ragged flesh and bone, -shapeless and blackened, and hollow as a shell. Horror-struck at the -sight, they turned in silence away, and having secured the two horses, -they both mounted and rode together back to the little inn, where, -having procured assistance, the body of the wretched servant was -deposited. Young Ashwoode and O'Connor then parted, each on his -respective way. - - - - -CHAPTER X. - -THE MASTER OF MORLEY COURT AND THE LITTLE GENTLEMAN IN -BOTTLE-GREEN--THE BARONET'S DAUGHTER--AND THE TWO CONSPIRATORS. - - -Encounters such as those described in the last chapter were, it is -needless to say, much more common a hundred and thirty years ago than -they are now. In fact, it was unsafe alike in town and country to stir -abroad after dark in any district affording wealth and aristocracy -sufficient to tempt the enterprise of _professional_ gentlemen. If -London and its environs, with all their protective advantages, were, -nevertheless, so infested with desperadoes as to render its very -streets and most frequented ways perilous to pass through during the -hours of night, it is hardly to be wondered at that Dublin, the capital -of a rebellious and semi-barbarous country--haunted by hungry -adventurers, who had lost everything in the revolutionary wars--with a -most notoriously ineffective police, and a rash and dissolute -aristocracy, with a great deal more money and a great deal less caution -than usually fall to the lot of our gentry of the present day--should -have been pre-eminently the scene of midnight violence and adventure. -The continued frequency of such occurrences had habituated men to think -very lightly of them; and the feeble condition of the civil executive -almost uniformly secured the impunity of the criminal. We shall not, -therefore, weary the reader by inviting his attention to the formal -investigation which was forthwith instituted; it is enough for all -purposes to record that, like most other investigations of the kind at -that period, it ended in--just nothing. - -Instead, then, of attending inquests and reading depositions, we must -here request the gentle reader to accompany us for a brief space into -the dressing-room of Sir Richard Ashwoode, where, upon the morning -following the events which in our last we have detailed, the -aristocratic invalid lay extended upon a well-cushioned sofa, arrayed -in a flowered silk dressing-gown, lined with crimson, and with a velvet -cap upon his head. He was apparently considerably beyond sixty--a -slightly and rather an elegantly made man, with thin, anxious features, -and a sallow complexion: his head rested upon his hand, and his eyes -wandered with an air of discontented abstraction over the fair -landscape which his window commanded. Before him was placed a small -table, with all the appliances of an elegant breakfast; and two or -three books and pamphlets were laid within reach of his hand. A little -way from him sate his beautiful child, Mary Ashwoode, paler than usual, -though not less lovely--for the past night had been to her one of -fevered excitement, griefs, and fears. There she sate, with her work -before her, and while her small hands plied their appointed task, her -soft, dark eyes wandered often with sweet looks of affection toward the -reclining form of that old haughty and selfish man, her father. - -The silence had continued long, for the old man's temper might not, -perhaps, have brooked an interruption of his ruminations, although, if -the sour and spited expression of his face might be trusted, his -thoughts were not the most pleasant in the world. The train of -reflection, whatever it might have been, was interrupted by the -entrance of a servant, bearing in his hand a note, with which he -approached Sir Richard, but with that air of nervous caution with which -one might be supposed to present a sandwich to a tiger. - -"Why the devil, sirrah, do you pound the floor so!" cried Sir Richard, -turning shortly upon the man as he advanced, and speaking in sharp and -bitter accents. "What's that you've got?--a note?--take it back, you -blockhead--I'll not touch it--it's some rascally scrap of dunning -paper--get out of my sight, sirrah." - -"An it please you, sir," replied the man, deferentially, "it comes from -Lord Aspenly." - -"Eh! oh! ah!" exclaimed Sir Richard, raising himself upon the sofa, and -extending his hand with alacrity. "Here, give it to me; so you may go, -sir--but stay, does a messenger wait?--ask particularly from me how his -lordship does, do you mind? and let the man have refreshment; go, -sirrah, go--begone!" - -Sir Richard then took the note, broke the seal, and read the contents -through, evidently with considerable satisfaction. Having completed the -perusal of the note twice over, with a smile of unusual gratification, -tinctured, perhaps, with the faintest possible admixture of ridicule, -Sir Richard turned toward his daughter with more real cheerfulness than -she had seen him exhibit for years before. - -"Mary, my good child," said he, "this note announces the arrival here, -on to-morrow, of my old, or rather, my most _particular_ friend, Lord -Aspenly; he will pass some days with us--days which we must all -endeavour to make as agreeable to him as possible. You look--you _do_ -look extremely well and pretty to-day; come here and kiss me, child." - -Overjoyed at this unwonted manifestation of affection, the girl cast -her work away, and with a beating heart and light step, she ran to her -father's side, threw her arms about his neck, and kissed him again and -again, in happy unconsciousness of all that was passing in the mind of -him she so fondly caressed. - -The door again opened, and the same servant once more presented -himself. - -"What do you come to plague me about _now_?" inquired the master, -sharply; recovering, in an instant, his usual peevish manner--"What's -this you've got?--what _is_ it?" - -"A card, sir," replied the man, at the same time advancing the salver -on which it lay within reach of the languid hand of his master. - -"Mr. Audley--Mr. Audley," repeated Sir Richard, as he read the card; "I -never heard of the man before, in the course of my life; I know nothing -about him--nothing--and care as little. Pray what is _he_ pestering -about?--what does he want here?" - -"He requests permission to see you, sir," replied the man. - -"Tell him, with my compliments, to go to hell!" rejoined the -invalid;--"Or, stay," he added, after a moment's pause--"what does he -look like?--is he well or ill-dressed?--old or young?" - -"A middle-aged man, sir; rather well-dressed," answered the servant. - -"He did not mention his business?" asked Sir Richard. - -"No, sir," replied the man; "but he said that it was very important, -and that you would be glad to see him." - -"Show him up, then," said Sir Richard, decisively. - -The servant accordingly bowed and departed. - -"A stranger!--a gentleman!--and come to me upon important and pleasant -business," muttered the baronet, musingly--"important and -pleasant!--Can my old, cross-grained brother-in-law have made a -favourable disposition of his property, and--and--died!--that were, -indeed, news worth hearing; too much luck to happen me, though--no, no, -it can't be--it can't be." - -Nevertheless, he thought it _might_ be; and thus believing, he awaited -the entrance of his visitor with extreme impatience. This suspense, -however, was not of long duration; the door opened, and the servant -announced Mr. Audley--a dapper little gentleman, in grave habiliments -of bottle-green cloth; in person somewhat short and stout; and in -countenance rather snub-featured and rubicund, but bearing an -expression in which good-humour was largely blended with -self-importance. This little person strutted briskly into the room. - -"Hem!--Sir Richard Ashwoode, I presume?" exclaimed the visitor, with a -profound bow, which threatened to roll his little person up like an -armadillo. - -Sir Richard returned the salute by a slight nod and a gracious wave of -the hand. - -"You will excuse my not rising to receive you, Mr. Audley," said the -baronet, "when I inform you that I am tied here by the gout; pray, sir, -take a chair. Mary, remove your work to the room underneath, and lay -the ebony wand within my reach; I will tap upon the floor when I want -you." - -The girl accordingly glided from the room. - -"We are now alone, sir," continued Sir Richard, after a short pause. "I -fear, sir--I know not why--that your business has relation to my -brother; is he--is he _ill_?" - -"Faith, sir," replied the little man bluntly, "I never heard of the -gentleman before in my life." - -"I breathe again, sir; you have relieved me extremely," said the -baronet, swallowing his disappointment with a ghastly smile; "and now, -sir, that you have thus considerately and expeditiously dispelled what -were, thank heaven! my groundless alarms, may I ask you to what -accident I am indebted for the singular good fortune of making your -acquaintance--in short, sir, I would fain learn the object of your -visit." - -"That you shall, sir--that you shall, in a trice," replied the little -gentleman in green. "I'm a plain man, my dear Sir Richard, and love to -come to the point at once--ahem! The story, to be sure, is a long one, -but don't be afraid, I'll abridge it--I'll abridge it." He drew his -watch from his fob, and laying it upon the table before him, he -continued--"It now wants, my dear sir, precisely seven minutes of -eleven, by London time; I shall limit myself to half-an-hour." - -"I fear, Mr. Audley, you should find me a very unsatisfactory listener -to a narrative of half-an-hour's length," observed Sir Richard, drily; -"in fact, I am not in a condition to make any such exertion; if you -will obligingly condense what you have to say into a few minutes, you -will confer a favour upon me, and lighten your own task considerably." -Sir Richard then indignantly took a pinch of snuff, and muttered, -almost audibly--"A vulgar, audacious, old boor." - -"Well, then, we must try--we must try, my dear sir," replied the little -gentleman, wiping his face with his handkerchief, by way of -preparation--"I'll just sum up the leading points, and leave -particulars for a more favourable opportunity; in fact, I'll hold over -_all_ details to our next merry meeting--our next _tête-à-tête_--when I -hope we shall meet upon a pleasanter _footing_--your gouty toes, you -know--d'ye take me? Ha! ha! excuse the joke--ha! ha! ha!" - -Sir Richard elevated his eyebrows, and looked upon the little gentleman -with a gaze of stern and petrifying severity during this burst of -merriment. - -"Well, my dear sir," continued Mr. Audley, again wiping his face, "to -proceed to business. You have learned my name from my card, but beyond -my name you know nothing about me." - -"_Nothing whatever_, sir," replied Sir Richard, with profound emphasis. - -"Just so; well, then, you _shall_," rejoined the little gentleman. "I -have been a long time settled in France--I brought over every penny I -had in the world there--in short, sir, something more than twelve -thousand pounds. Well, sir, what did I do with it? There's the -question. Your gay young fellows would have thrown it away at the -gaming table, or squandered it on gold lace and velvets--or again, your -prudent, plodding fellow would have lived quietly on the interest and -left the principal to vegetate; but what did I do? Why, sir, not caring -for idleness or show, I threw some of it into the wine trade, and with -the rest I kept hammering at the funds, winning twice for every once I -lost. In fact, sir, I prospered--the money rolled in, sir, and in due -course I became rich, sir--rich--_warm_, as the phrase goes." - -"Very _warm_, indeed, sir," replied Sir Richard, observing that his -visitor again wiped his face--"but allow me to ask, beyond the general -interest which I may be presumed to feel in the prosperity of the whole -human race, how on earth does all this concern _me_?" - -"Ay, ay, there's the question," replied the stranger, looking -unutterably knowing--"that's the puzzle. But all in good time; you -shall hear it in a twinkling. Now, being well to do in the world, you -may ask me, why do not I look out for a wife? I answer you simply, that -having escaped matrimony hitherto, I have no wish to be taken in the -noose at these years; and now, before I go further, what do you take my -age to be--how old do I look?" - -The little man squared himself, cocked his head on one side, and looked -inquisitively at Sir Richard from the corner of his eye. The patience -of the baronet was nigh giving way outright. - -"Sir," replied he, in no very gracious tones, "you may be the -'Wandering Jew,' for anything I either know or see to the contrary." - -"Ha! good," rejoined the little man, with imperturbable good humour, "I -see, Sir Richard, you are a wag--the Wandering Jew--ha, ha! no--not -_that_ quite. The fact is, sir, I am in my sixty-seventh year--you -would not have thought that--eh?" - -Sir Richard made no reply whatever. - -"You'll acknowledge, sir, that _that_ is not exactly the age at which -to talk of hearts and darts, and gay gold rings," continued the -communicative gentleman in the bottle-green. "I know very well that no -young woman, of her own free choice, could take a liking to _me_." - -"Quite impossible," with desperate emphasis, rejoined Sir Richard, upon -whose ear the sentence grated unpleasantly; for Lord Aspenly's letter -(in which "hearts and darts" were profusely noticed) lay before him on -the table; "but once more, sir, may I implore of you to tell me the -drift of all this?" - -"The drift of it--to be sure I will--in due time," replied Mr. Audley. -"You see, then, sir, that having no family of my own, and not having any -intention of taking a wife, I have resolved to leave my money to a fine -young fellow, the son of an old friend; his name is O'Connor--Edmond -O'Connor--a fine, handsome, young dog, and worthy to fill any place in -all the world--a high-spirited, good-hearted, dashing young rascal--you -know something of him, Sir Richard?" - -The baronet nodded a supercilious assent; his attention was now really -enlisted. - -"Well, Sir Richard," continued the visitor, "I have wormed out of -him--for I have a knack of my own of getting at people's secrets, no -matter how close they keep them, d'ye see--that he is over head and -ears in love with your daughter--I believe the young lady who just -left the room on my arrival; and indeed, if such is the case, I -commend the young scoundrel's taste; the lady is truly worthy of all -admiration--and----" - -"Pray, sir, proceed as briefly as may be to the object of your -conversation with me," interrupted Sir Richard, drily. - -"Well, then, to return--I understand, sir," continued Audley, "that -you, suspecting something of the kind, and believing the young fellow -to be penniless, very naturally, and, indeed, I may say, very -prudently, and very sensibly, opposed yourself to the thing from the -commencement, and obliged the sly young dog to discontinue his -visits;--well, sir, matters stood so, until _I_--cunning little -_I_--step in, and change the whole posture of affairs--and how? Marry, -thus, I come hither and ask your daughter's hand for _him_, upon these -terms following--that I undertake to convey to him, at once, lands to -the value of one thousand pounds a year, and that at my death I will -leave him, with the exception of a few small legacies, sole heir to all -I have; and on his wedding-day give him and his lady their choice of -either of two chateaux, the worst of them a worthy residence for a -nobleman." - -"Are these chateaux in Spain?" inquired Sir Richard, sneeringly. - -"No, no, sir," replied the little man, with perfect guilelessness; -"both in Flanders." - -"Well, sir," said Sir Richard Ashwoode, raising himself almost to a -sitting posture, and preluding his observations with two unusually -large pinches of snuff, "I have heard you very patiently throughout a -statement, all of which was fatiguing, and much of which was positively -disagreeable to me: and I trust that what I have now to say will render -it wholly unnecessary for you and me ever again to converse upon the -same topic. Of Mr. O'Connor, whom, in spite of this strange repetition -of an already rejected application, I believe to be a spirited young -man, I shall say nothing more than that, from the bottom of my heart I -wish him every success of every kind, so long as he confines his -aspirations to what is suitable to his own position in society; and, -consequently, conducive to his own comfort and respectability. With -respect to his very flattering vicarious proposal, I must assure you -that I do not suspect Miss Ashwoode of any inclination to descend from -the station to which her birth and fortune entitle her; and if I did -suspect it, I should feel it to be my imperative duty to resist, by -every means in my power, the indulgence of any such wayward caprice; -but lest, after what I have said, any doubt should rest upon your mind -as to the value of these obstacles, it may not be amiss to add that my -daughter, Miss Ashwoode, is actually promised in marriage to a -gentleman of exalted rank and great fortune, and who is, in all -respects, an unexceptionable connection. I have the honour, sir, to -wish you good-morning." - -"The devil!" exclaimed the little gentleman, as soon as his utter -amazement allowed him to take breath. A long pause ensued, during which -he twice inflated his cheeks to their utmost tension, and puffed the -air forth with a prolonged whistle of desolate wonder. Recollecting -himself, however, he hastily arose, wished Sir Richard good-day, and -walked down stairs, and out of the house, all the way muttering, "God -bless my body and soul--a thousand pounds a year--the devil--_can_ it -be?--body o' me--refuse a thousand a year--what the deuce is he looking -for?"--and such other ejaculations; stamping all the while emphatically -upon every stair as he descended, to give vent to his indignation, as -well as impressiveness to his remarks. - -Something like a smile for a moment lit up the withered features of the -old baronet; he leaned back luxuriously upon his sofa, and while he -listened with delighted attention to the stormy descent of his visitor, -he administered to its proper receptacle, with prolonged relish, two -several pinches of rappee. - -"So, so," murmured he, complacently, "I suspect I have seen the last of -honest Mr. Audley--a little surprised and a little angry he does appear -to be--dear me!--he stamps fearfully--what a very strange creature it -is." - -Having made this reflection, Sir Richard continued to listen pleasantly -until the sounds were lost in the distance; he then rang a small -hand-bell which lay upon the table, and a servant entered. - -"Tell Mistress Mary," said the baronet, "that I shall not want her just -now, and desire Mr. Henry to come hither instantly--begone, sirrah." - -The servant disappeared, and in a few moments young Ashwoode, looking -unusually pale and haggard, and dressed in a morning suit, entered the -chamber. Having saluted his father with the formality which the usages -of the time prescribed, and having surveyed himself for a moment at the -large mirror which stood in the room, and having adjusted thereat the -tie of his lace cravat, he inquired,-- - -"Pray, sir, who was that piece of 'too, too solid flesh' that passed me -scarce a minute since upon the stairs, pounding all the way with the -emphasis of a battering ram? As far as I could judge, the thing had -just been discharged from your room." - -"You have happened, for once in your life, to talk with relation to the -subject to which I would call your attention," said Sir Richard. "The -person whom you describe with your wonted facetiousness, has just been -talking with me; his name is Audley; I never saw him till this morning, -and he came coolly to make proposals, in young O'Connor's name, for -your sister's hand, promising to settle some scurvy chateaux, heaven -knows where, upon the happy pair." - -"Well, sir, and what followed?" asked the young man. - -"Why simply, sir," replied his father, "that I gave him the answer -which sent him stamping down stairs, as you saw him. I laughed in his -face, and desired him to go about his business." - -"Very good, indeed, sir," observed young Ashwoode. - -"There is no occasion for commentary, sir," continued Sir Richard. -"Attend to what I have to say: a nobleman of large fortune has -requested my permission to make his suit to your sister--_that_ I have, -of course, granted; he will arrive here to-morrow, to make a stay of -some days. I am resolved the thing _shall_ be concluded. I ought to -mention that the nobleman in question is Lord Aspenly." - -The young man looked for a moment or two the very impersonation of -astonishment, and then, burst into an uncontrollable fit of laughter. - -"Either be silent, sir, or this moment quit the room," said Sir -Richard, in a tone which few would have liked to disobey--"how dare -you--you--you insolent, dependent coxcomb--how dare you, sir, treat me -with this audacious disrespect?" - -The young man hastened to avert the storm, whose violence he had more -than once bitterly felt, by a timely submission. - -"I assure you, sir, nothing was further from my intention than to -offend you," said he--"I am fully alive--as a man of the world, I could -not be otherwise--to the immense advantages of the connection; but Lord -Aspenly I have known so long, and always looked upon as a confirmed old -bachelor, that on hearing his name thus suddenly, something of -incongruity, and--and--and I don't exactly know what--struck me so very -forcibly, that I involuntarily and very thoughtlessly began to laugh. I -assure you, sir, I regret it very much, if it has offended you." - -"You are a weak fool, sir, I am afraid," replied his father, shortly: -"but that conviction has not come upon me by surprise; you _can_, -however, be of some use in this matter, and I am determined you _shall_ -be. Now, sir, mark me: I suspect that this young fellow--this O'Connor, -is not so indifferent to Mary as he should be to a daughter of mine, -and it is more than possible that he may endeavour to maintain his -interest in her affections, imaginary or real, by writing letters, -sending messages, and such manoeuvring. Now, you must call upon the -young man, wherever he is to be found, and either procure from him a -distinct pledge to the effect that he will think no more of her (the -young fellow has a sense of honour, and I would rely upon his promise), -or else you must have him out--in short, make him _fight_ you--you -attend, sir--if _you_ get hurt, we can easily make the country too hot -to hold him; and if, on the other hand, _you_ poke _him_ through the -body, there's an end of the whole difficulty. This step, sir, you -_must_ take--you understand me--I am very much in earnest." - -This was delivered with a cold deliberateness, which young Ashwoode -well understood, when his father used it to imply a fixity of purpose, -such as brooked no question, and halted at no obstacle. - -"Sir," replied Henry Ashwoode, after an embarrassed pause of a few -minutes, "you are not aware of _one_ particular connected with last -night's affray--you have heard that poor Darby, who rode with me, was -actually brained, and that _I_ escaped a like fate by the interposition -of one who, at his own personal risk, saved my life--that one was the -very Edmond O'Connor of whom we speak." - -"What you allude to," observed Sir Richard, with very edifying -coolness, "is, no doubt, very shocking and very horrible. I regret the -destruction of the man, although I neither saw nor knew much about him; -and for your eminently providential escape, I trust I am fully as -thankful as I ought to be; and now, granting all you have said to be -perfectly accurate--which I take it to be--what conclusion do you wish -me to draw from it?" - -"Why, sir, without pretending to any very extraordinary proclivity to -gratitude," replied the young man--"for O'Connor told me plainly that -he did not expect any--I must consider what the world will say, if I -return what it will be pleased to regard as an obligation, by -challenging the person who conferred it." - -"Good, sir--good," said the baronet, calmly: and gazing upon the -ceiling with elevated eyebrows and a bitter smile, he added, -reflectively, "he's afraid--afraid--afraid--ay, afraid--afraid." - -"You wrong me very much, sir," rejoined young Ashwoode, "if you imagine -that fear has anything to do with my reluctance to act as you would -have me; and no less do you wrong me, if you think I would allow any -school-boy sentimentalism to stand in the way of my family's interests. -My _real_ objection to the thing is this--first, that I cannot see any -satisfactory answer to the question, What will the world say of my -conduct, in case I force a duel upon him the day after he has saved my -life?--and again, I think it inevitably damages any young woman in the -matrimonial market, to have low duels fought about her." - -Sir Richard screwed his eyebrows reflectively, and remained silent. - -"But at the same time, sir," continued his son, "I see as clearly as -you could wish me to do, the importance, under present circumstances--or -rather the absolute necessity--of putting a stop to O'Connor's suit; -and, in short, to all communication between him and my sister, and I -will undertake to do this effectually." - -"And how, sir, pray?" inquired the baronet. - -"I shall, as a matter of course, wait upon the young man," replied -Henry Ashwoode--"his services of last night demand that I should do so. -I will explain to him, in a friendly way, the hopelessness of his suit. -I should not hesitate either to throw a little colouring of my own over -the matter. If I can induce O'Connor once to regard me as his -friend--and after all, it is but the part of a friend to put a stop to -this foolish affair--I will stake my existence that the matter shall be -broken off for ever and a day. If, however, the young fellow turn out -foolish and pig-headed, I can easily pick a quarrel with him upon some -other subject, and get him out of the way as you propose; but without -mixing up my sister's name in the dispute, or giving occasion for -gossip. However, I half suspect that it will require neither crafty -stratagem nor shrewd blows to bring this absurd business to an end. I -daresay the parties are beginning to tire heartily of waiting, and -perhaps a little even of one another; and, for my part, I really do not -know that the girl ever cared for him, or gave him the smallest -encouragement." - -"But _I_ know that she _did_," replied Sir Richard. "Carey has shown me -letters from her to him, and from him to her, not six months since. -Carey is a very useful woman, and may do us important service. I did -not choose to mention that I had seen these letters; but I sounded Mary -somewhat sternly, and left her with a caution which I think must have -produced a salutary effect--in short, I told her plainly, that if I had -reason to suspect any correspondence or understanding between her and -O'Connor, I should not scruple to resort to the sternest and most -rigorous interposition of parental authority, to put an end to it -peremptorily. I confess, however, that I have misgivings about this. I -regard it as a very serious obstacle--one, however, which, so sure as I -live, I will entirely annihilate." - -There was a pause for a little while, and Sir Richard continued,-- - -"There is a good deal of sense in what you have suggested. We will talk -it over and arrange operations systematically this evening. I presume -you intend calling upon the fellow to-day; it might not be amiss if you -had him to dine with you once or twice in town: you must get up a kind -of confidential acquaintance with him, a thing which you can easily -terminate, as soon as its object is answered. He is, I believe, what -they call a frank, honest sort of fellow, and is, of course, very -easily led; and--and, in short--made a _fool_ of: as for the girl, I -think I know something of the sex, and very few of them are so romantic -as not to understand the value of a title and ten thousand a year! -Depend upon it, in spite of all her sighs, and vapours, and romance, -the girl will be dazzled so effectually before three weeks, as to be -blind to every other object in the world; but if not, and should she -dare to oppose my wishes, I'll make her cross-grained folly more -terrible to her than she dreams of--but she knows me too well--she -_dares_ not." - -Both parties remained silent and abstracted for a time, and then Sir -Richard, turning sharply to his son, exclaimed, with his usual tart -manner,-- - -"And now, sir, I must admit that I am a good deal tired of your very -agreeable company. Go about your business, if you please, and be in -this room this evening at half-past six o'clock. You had _better_ not -forget to be punctual; and, for the present, get out of my sight." - -With this very affectionate leave-taking, Sir Richard put an end to the -family consultation, and the young man, relieved of the presence of the -only person on earth whom he really feared, gladly closed the door -behind him. - - - - -CHAPTER XI. - -THE OLD BEECH-TREE WALK AND THE IVY-GROWN GATEWAY--THE TRYSTE AND TUE -CRUTCH-HANDLED CANE. - - -In the snug old "Cock and Anchor," the morning after the exciting -scenes in which O'Connor had taken so active a part, that gentleman was -pacing the floor of his sitting-room in no small agitation. On the -result of that interview, which he had resolved no longer to postpone, -depended his happiness for years--it might be for life. Again and again -he applied himself to the task of arranging clearly and concisely, and -withal adroitly and with tact, the substance of what he had to say to -Sir Richard Ashwoode. But, spite of all, his mind would wander to the -pleasant hours he had passed with Mary Ashwoode in the quiet green wood -and by the dark well's side, and through the moss-grown rocks, and by -the chiming current of the wayward brook, long before the cold and -worldly had suspected and repulsed that love which he knew could never -die but when his heart had ceased to beat for ever. Again would he, -banishing with a stoical effort these unbidden visions of memory, seek -to accomplish the important task which he had proposed to himself; but -still all in vain. There was she once more--there was the pale, -pensive, lovely face--there the long, dark, silken tresses--there the -deep, beautiful eyes--and there the smile--the artless, melancholy, -enchanting smile. - -"It boots not trying," exclaimed O'Connor. "I cannot collect my -thoughts; and yet what use in conning over the order and the words of -what, after all, will be judged merely by its meaning? Perhaps it is -better that I should yield myself wholly up to the impulse of the -moment, and so speak but the more directly and the more boldly. No; -even in such a cause I will not accommodate myself to his cramp and -crooked habits of thought and feeling. If I let him know all, it -matters little how he learns it." - -As O'Connor finished this sentence, his meditations were dispelled by -certain sounds, which issued from the passage leading to his room. - -"A young man," exclaimed a voice, interrupted by a good deal of puffing -and blowing, probably caused by the steep ascent, "and a good-looking, -eh?--(puff)--dark eyes, eh?--(puff, puff)--black hair and straight -nose, eh?--(puff, puff)--long-limbed, tall, eh?--(puff)." - -The answers to these interrogatories, whatever they may have been, -were, where O'Connor stood, wholly inaudible; but the cross-examination -was accompanied throughout by a stout, firm, stumping tread upon the -old floor, which, along with the increasing clearness with which the -noise made its way to O'Connor's door, sufficiently indicated that the -speaker was approaching. The accents were familiar to him. He ran to -his door, opened it; and in an instant Hugh Audley, Esquire, very hot -and very much out of breath, pitched himself, with a good deal of -precision, shoulders foremost, against the pit of the young man's -stomach, and, embracing him a little above the hips, hugged him for -some time in silence, swaying him to and fro with extraordinary energy, -as if preparatory to tripping him up, and taking him off his feet -altogether--then giving him a shove straight from him, and holding him -at arm's length, he looked with brimful eyes, and a countenance beaming -with delight, full in O'Connor's face. - -"Confound the dog, how well he looks," exclaimed the old gentleman, -vehemently--"devilish well, curse him!" and he gave O'Connor a shove -with his knuckles, and succeeded in staggering himself--"never saw you -look better in my life, nor anyone else for that matter; and how is -every inch of you, and what have you been doing with yourself? Come, -you young dog, account for yourself." - -O'Connor had now, for the first time, an opportunity of bidding the -kind old gentleman welcome, which he did to the full as cordially, if -not so boisterously. - -"Let me sit down and rest myself: I must take breath for a minute," -exclaimed the old gentleman. "Give me a chair, you undutiful rascal. -What a devil of a staircase that is, to be sure. Well, and what do you -intend doing with yourself to-day?" - -"To say the truth," said the young man, while a swarthier glow crossed -his dark features. "I was just about to start for Morley Court, to see -Sir Richard Ashwoode." - -"About his daughter, I take it?" inquired the old gentleman. - -"Just so, sir," replied the younger man. - -"Then you may spare yourself the pains," rejoined the old gentleman, -briskly. "You are better at home. You have been forestalled." - -"What--how, sir? What do you mean?" asked O'Connor, in great perplexity -and alarm. - -"Just what I say, my boy. You have been forestalled." - -"By whom, sir?" - -"By me." - -"By you?" - -"Ay." - -The old gentleman screwed his brows and pursed up his mouth until it -became a Gordian involution of knots and wrinkles, threw a fierce and -determined expression into his eyes, and wagged his head slightly from -side to side--looking altogether very like a "Cromwell guiltless of his -country's blood." At length he said,-- - -"I'm an old fellow, and ought to know something by this time--think I -_do_, for that matter; and I say deliberately--cut the whole concern -and blow them all." - -Having thus delivered himself, the old gentleman resumed his sternest -expression of countenance, and continued in silence to wag his head -from time to time with an air of infinite defiance, leaving his young -companion, if possible, more perplexed and bewildered than ever. - -"And have you, then, seen Sir Richard Ashwoode?" inquired O'Connor. - -"Have I seen him?" rejoined the old gentleman. "To be sure I have. The -moment the boat touched the quay, and I fairly felt _terra firma_, I -drove to the 'Fox in Breeches,' and donned a handsome suit"--(here the -gentleman glanced cursorily at his bottle-green habiliments)--"I -ordered a hack-coach--got safely to Morley Court--saw Sir Richard, laid -up with the gout, looking just like an old, dried-up, cross-grained -monkey. There was, of course, a long explanation, and all that sort of -thing--a good deal of tact and diplomacy on my side, doubling about, -neat fencing, and circumbendibus; but all would not do--an infernal -_smash_. Sir Richard was all but downright uncivil--would not hear of -it--said plump and plain he would never consent. The fact is, he's a -sour, hard, insolent old scoundrel, and a bitter pill; and I -congratulate you heartily on having escaped all connection with him and -his. Don't look so down in the mouth about the matter; there's as good -fish in the sea as ever was caught; and if the young woman is half such -a shrew as her father is a tartar, you have had an escape to be -thankful for the longest day you live." - -We shall not attempt to describe the feelings with which O'Connor -received this somewhat eccentric communication. He folded his arms upon -the table, and for many minutes leaned his head upon them, without -motion, and without uttering one word. At length he said,-- - -"After all, I ought to have expected this. Sir Richard is a bigoted man -in his own faith--an ambitious and a worldly man, too. It was folly, -mere folly, knowing all this, to look for any other answer from him. He -may indeed delay our union for a little, but he cannot bar it--he -_shall_ not bar it. I could more easily doubt myself than Mary's -constancy; and if she be but firm and true--and she is all loyalty and -all truth--the world cannot part us two. Our separation cannot outlast -his life; nor shall it last so long. I will overcome her scruples, -combat all her doubts, satisfy her reason. She will consent--she will -be mine--my own--through life and until death. No hand shall sunder us -for ever,"--he turned to the old man, and grasped his hand--"My dear, -kind, true friend, how can I ever thank you for all your generous acts -of kindness. I cannot." - -"Never mind, never mind, my dear boy," said the old gentleman, -blubbering in spite of himself--"never mind--what a d----d old fool I -am, to be sure. Come, come, you, shall take a turn with me towards the -country, and get an appetite for dinner. You'll be as well as ever in -half an hour. When all's done, you stand no worse than you did -yesterday; and if the girl's a good girl, as I make no doubt she is, -why, you are sure of her constancy--and the devil himself shall not -part you. Confound me if I don't run away with the girl for you myself -if you make a pother about the matter. Come along, you dog--come along, -I say." - -"Nay, sir," replied O'Connor, "forgive me. I am keenly pained. I am -agitated--confounded at the suddenness of this--this dreadful blow. I -will go alone, pardon me, my kind and dear friend, I must go _alone_. I -may chance to see the lady. I am sure she will not fail me--she will -meet me. Oh! heart and brain, be still--be steady--I need your best -counsels now. Farewell, sir--for a little time, farewell." - -"Well, be it so--since so it _must_ be," said Mr. Audley, who did not -care to combat a resolution, announced with all the wild energy of -despairing passion, "by all means, my dear boy, _alone_ it shall be, -though I scarce think you would be the worse of a staid old fellow's -company in your ramble--but no matter, boys will be boys while the -world goes round." - -The conclusion of this sentence was a soliloquy, for O'Connor had -already descended to the inn yard, where he procured a horse, and was -soon, with troubled mind and swelling heart, making rapid way toward -Morley Court. It was now the afternoon--the sun had made nearly half -his downward course--the air was soft and fresh, and the birds sang -sweetly in the dark nooks and bowers of the tall trees: it seemed -almost as if summer had turned like a departing beauty, with one last -look of loveliness to gladden the scene which she was regretfully -leaving. So sweet and still the air--so full and mellow the thrilling -chorus of merry birds among the rustling leaves, flitting from bough to -bough in the clear and lofty shadow--so cloudless the golden flood of -sunlight. Such was the day--so gladsome the sounds--so serene the -aspect of all nature--as O'Connor, dismounting under the shadow of a -tall, straggling hawthorn hedge, and knotting the bridle in one of its -twisted branches, crossed a low stile, and thus entered the grounds of -Morley Court. He threaded a winding path which led through a neglected -wood of thorn and oak, and found himself after a few minutes in the -spot he sought. The old beech walk had been once the main avenue to the -house. Huge beech-trees flung their mighty boughs high in air across -its long perspective--and bright as was the day, the long lane lay in -shadow deep and solemn as that of some old Gothic aisle. Down this dim -vista did O'Connor pace with hurried steps toward the spot where, about -midway in its length, there stood the half-ruined piers and low walls -of what had once been a gateway. - -"Can it be that she shrinks from this meeting?" thought O'Connor, as -his eye in vain sought the wished-for form of Mary Ashwoode, "will she -disappoint me?--surely she who has walked with me so many lonely hours -in guileless trust need not have feared to meet me here. It was not -generous to deny me this boon--to her so easy--to me so rich--yet -perchance she judges wisely. What boots it that I should see her? Why -see again that matchless beauty--that touching smile--those eyes that -looked so fondly on me? Why see her more--since mayhap we shall never -meet again? She means it kindly. Her nature is all nobleness--all -generosity; and yet--and yet to see her no more--to hear her voice no -more--have we--have we then parted at last for ever? But no--by -heavens--'tis she--Mary!" - -It was indeed Mary Ashwoode, blushing and beautiful as ever. In an -instant O'Connor stood by her side. - -"My own--my true-hearted Mary." - -"Oh! Edmond," said she, after a brief silence, "I fear I have done -wrong--have I?--in meeting you thus. I ought not--indeed I know I ought -not to have come." - -"Nay, Mary, do not speak thus. Dear Mary, have we not been companions -in many a pleasant ramble: in those times--the times, Mary, that will -never come again? Why, then, should you deny me a few minutes' mournful -converse, where in other days we two have passed so many pleasant -hours?" - -There was in the tone in which he spoke something so unutterably -melancholy--and in the recollections which his few simple words called -crowding to her mind, something at once so touching, so dearly -cherished, and so bitterly regretted--that the tears gathered in her -full dark eyes, and fell one by one fast and unheeded. - -"You do not grieve, then, Mary," said he, "that you have come -here--that we have met once more: do you, Mary?" - -"No, no, Edmond--no, indeed," answered she, sobbing. "God knows I do -not, Edmond--no, no." - -"Well, Mary," said he, "I am happy in the belief that you feel toward -me just as you used to do--as happy as one so wretched can hope to be." - -"Edmond, your words affright me," said she, fixing her eyes full upon -him with imploring earnestness: "you look sadder--paler than you did -yesterday; something has happened since then. What--what is it, Edmond? -tell me--ah, tell me!" - -"Yes, Mary, much has happened," answered he, taking her hand between -both of his, and meeting her gaze with a look of passionate sorrow and -tenderness--"yes, Mary, without my knowledge, the friend of whom I told -you had arrived, and this morning saw your father, told him _all_, and -was repulsed with sternness--almost with insult. Sir Richard has -resolved that it shall never be; there is no more hope of bending -him--none--none--none." - -While O'Connor spoke, the colour in Mary's cheeks came and fled in turn -with quick alternations, in answer to every throb and flutter of the -poor heart within. - -"See him--speak to him--yourself, Edmond, yourself. Oh! do not -despair--see him--speak to him," she almost whispered, for agitation -had well-nigh deprived her of voice--"see him, Edmond--yourself--for -God's sake, dear Edmond--yourself--yourself"--and she grasped his arm -in her tiny hand, and gazed in his pale face with such a look of -agonized entreaty as cut him to the very heart. - -"Yes, Mary, if it seems good to you, I will speak to him myself," said -O'Connor, with deep melancholy. "I will, Mary, though my own heart--my -reason--tells me it is all--all utterly in vain; but, Mary," continued -he, suddenly changing his tone to one of more alacrity, "if he should -still reject me--if he shall forbid our ever meeting more--if he shall -declare himself unalterably resolved against our union--Mary, in such a -case, would you, too, tell me to see you no more--would you, too, tell -me to depart without hope, and never come again? or would you, -Mary--could you--dare you--dear, dear Mary, for once--once -only--disobey your stern and haughty father--dare you trust yourself -with me--fly with me to France, and be at last, and after all, my -own--my bride?" - -"No, Edmond," said she, solemnly and sadly, while her eyes again filled -with tears; and though she trembled like the leaf on the tree, yet he -knew by the sound of her sad voice that her purpose could not -alter--"that can never be--never, Edmond--no--no." - -"Then, Mary, can it be," he answered, with an accent so desolate that -despair itself seemed breathing in its tone--"can it be, after all--all -we have passed and proved--all our love and constancy, and all our -bright hopes, so long and fondly cherished--cherished in the midst of -grief and difficulty--when we had no other stay but hope alone--are we, -after all--at last, to part for ever?--is it, indeed, Mary, all--all -over?" - -As the two lovers stood thus in deep and melancholy converse by the -ivy-grown and ruined gateway, beneath the airy shadow of the old -beech-trees, they were recalled to other thoughts by the hurried patter -of footsteps, and the rustling of the branches among the underwood -which skirted the avenue. As fortune willed it, however, the intruder -was no other than the honest dog, Rover, Mary's companion in many a -silent and melancholy ramble; he came sniffing and bounding with -boisterous greeting to hail his young mistress and her companion. The -interruption, harmless as it was, startled Mary Ashwoode. - -"Were my father to find us here, Edmond," said she, "it were fatal to -all our hopes. You know his temper well. Let us then part here. Follow -the by-path leading to the house. Go and see him--speak with him for my -sake--for my sake, Edmond--and so--and so--farewell." - -"And farewell, Mary, since it must be," said O'Connor, with a bitter -struggle. "Farewell, but only for a time--only for a little time, Mary; -and whatever befalls, remember--remember me. Farewell, Mary." - -As he thus spoke, he raised her hand to his lips, and kissed it for the -first time, it might be for the last, in his life. For a moment he -stood, and gazed with sad devotion upon the loved face. Then, with an -effort, he turned abruptly away, and strode rapidly in the direction -she had indicated; and when he turned to look again, she was gone. - -O'Connor followed the narrow path, which, diverging a little from the -broad grass lane, led with many a wayward turn among the tall trees -toward the house. As he thus pursued his way, a few moments of -reflection satisfied him of the desperate nature of the enterprise -which he had undertaken. But if lovers are often upon unreal grounds -desponding, it is likewise true that they are sometimes sanguine when -others would despair; and, spite of all his misgivings--of all the -irresistible conclusions of stern reason--hope still beckoned him on. -Thus agitated, he pursued his way, until, on turning an abrupt angle, -he beheld, scarcely more than a dozen paces in advance, and moving -slowly toward him in the shadowy pathway, a figure, at sight of which, -thus suddenly presented, he recoiled, and stood for a moment fixed as a -statue. He had encountered the object of his search. The form was that -of Sir Richard Ashwoode himself, who, wrapped in his scarlet -roquelaure, and leaning upon the shoulder of his Italian valet, while -he limped forward slowly and painfully, appeared full before him. - -"So, so, so, so," repeated the baronet, at first with unaffected -astonishment, which speedily, however, deepened into intense but -constrained anger--his dark, prominent eyes peering fiercely upon the -young man, while, stooping forward, and clutching his crutch-handled -cane hard in his lean fingers, he limped first one and then another -step nearer. - -"Mr. O'Connor! or my eyes deceive me." - -"Yes, Sir Richard," replied O'Connor, with a haughty bow, and advancing -a little toward him in turn. "I am that Edmond O'Connor whom you once -knew well, and whom it would seem you still know. I ought, doubtless----" - -"Nay, sir, no flowers of rhetoric, if you please," interrupted Sir -Richard, bitterly--"no fustian speeches--to the point--to the point, -sir. If you have ought to say to me, deliver it in six words. Your -business, sir. Be brief." - -"I will not indeed waste words, Sir Richard Ashwoode," replied -O'Connor, firmly. "There is but one subject on which I would seek a -conference with you, and that subject you well may guess." - -"I _do_ guess it," retorted Sir Richard. "You would renew an absurd -proposal--one opened three years since, and repeated this morning by -the old booby, your elected spokesman. To that proposal I have ever -given one answer--no. I have not changed my mind, nor ever shall. Am I -understood, sir? And least of all should I think of changing my purpose -now," continued he, more pointedly, as a suspicion crossed his -mind--"_now_, sir, that you have forfeited by your own act whatever -regard you once seemed to me to merit. You did not seek _me_ here, sir. -I'm not to be fooled, sir. You did not seek me--don't assert it. I -understand your purpose. You came here clandestinely to tamper like a -schemer with my child. Yes, sir, a schemer!" repeated Sir Richard, with -bitter emphasis, while his sharp sallow features grew sharper and more -sallow still; and he struck the point of his cane at every emphatic -word deep into the sod--"a mean, interested, cowardly schemer. How dare -you steal into my place, you thrice-rejected, dishonourable, spiritless -adventurer?" - -The blood rushed to O'Connor's brow as the old man uttered this -insulting invective. The fiery impulse which under other circumstances -would have been uncontrollable, was, however, speedily, though with -difficulty, mastered; and O'Connor replied bitterly,-- - -"You are an old man, Sir Richard, and _her_ father--you are safe, sir. -How much of chivalry or courage is shown in heaping insult upon one who -_will_ not retort upon you, judge for yourself. Alter what has passed, -I feel that I were, indeed, the vile thing you have described, if I -were again to subject myself to your unprovoked insolence: be assured, -I shall never place foot of mine within your boundaries again: relieve -yourself, sir, of all fears upon that score; and for your language, you -know you can appreciate the respect that makes me leave you thus -unanswered and unpunished." - -So saying, he turned, and with long and rapid strides retraced his -steps, his heart swelling with a thousand struggling emotions. Scarce -knowing what he did, O'Connor rode rapidly to the "Cock and Anchor," -and too much stunned and confounded by the scenes in which he had just -borne a part to exchange a word with Mr. Audley, whom he found still -established in his chamber, he threw himself dejectedly into a chair, -and sank into gloomy and obstinate abstraction. The good-natured old -gentleman did not care to interrupt his young friend's ruminations, and -hours might have passed away and found them still undisturbed, were it -not that the door was suddenly thrown open, and the waiter announced -Mr. Ashwoode. There was a spell in the name which instantly recalled -O'Connor to the scene before him. Had a viper sprung up at his feet, he -could not have recoiled with a stronger antipathy. With a mixture of -feelings scarcely tolerable, he awaited his arrival, and after a moment -or two of suspense, Henry Ashwoode entered the room. - -Mr. Audley, having heard the name, scowled fearfully from the centre of -the room upon the young gentleman as he entered, stuffed his hands -half-way to the elbows in his breeches pockets, and turning briskly -upon his heel, marched emphatically to the window, and gazed out into -the inn yard with remarkable perseverance. The obvious coldness with -which he was received did not embarrass young Ashwoode in the least. -With perfect ease and a graceful frankness of demeanour, he advanced to -O'Connor, and after a greeting of extraordinary warmth, inquired how he -had gotten home, and whether he had suffered since any inconvenience -from the fall which he had. He then went on to renew his protestations -of gratitude for O'Connor's services, with so much ardour and apparent -heartiness, that spite of his prejudices, the old man was moved in his -favour; and when Ashwoode expressed in a low voice to O'Connor his wish -to be introduced to his friend, honest Mr. Audley felt his heart quite -softened, and instead of merely bowing to him, absolutely shook him by -the hand. The young man then, spite of O'Connor's evident reluctance, -proceeded to relate to his new acquaintance the details of the -adventures of the preceding night, in doing which, he took occasion to -dwell, in the most glowing terms, upon his obligations to O'Connor. -After sitting with them for nearly half an hour, young Ashwoode took -his leave in the most affectionate manner possible, and withdrew. - -"Well, that _is_ a good-looking young fellow, and a warm-hearted," -exclaimed the old gentleman, as soon as the visitor had -disappeared--"what a pity he should be cursed with such a confounded -old father." - - - - -CHAPTER XII. - -THE APPOINTED HOUR--THE SCHEMERS AND THE PLOT. - - -"And here comes my dear brother," exclaimed Mary Ashwoode, joyously, as -she ran to welcome the young man, now entering her father's room, in -which, for more than an hour previously, she had been sitting. Throwing -her arm round his neck, and looking sweetly in his face, she -continued--"You _will_ stay with us this evening, dear Harry--do, for -my sake--you won't refuse--it is so long since we have had you;" and -though she spoke with a gay look and a gladsome voice, a sense of real -solitariness called a tear to her dark eye. - -"No, Mary--not this evening," said the young man coldly; "I must be in -town again to-night, and before I go must have some conversation upon -business with my father, so that I may not see you again till morning." - -"But, dear Henry," said she, still clinging affectionately to his arm, -"you have been in such danger, and I knew nothing of it until after you -went out this morning: are you quite well, Henry?--you were not -hurt--were you?" - -"No, no--nothing--nothing--I never was better," said he, impatiently. - -"Well, brother--_dear_ brother," she continued imploringly, "come early -home to-night--do not be upon the road late--won't you promise?" - -"There, there, there," said he rudely, "run away--take your work, or -your book, or whatever it may be, down stairs; your father wants to -speak with me alone," and so saying, he turned pettishly from her. - -His habitual coldness and carelessness of manner had never before -seemed so ungracious. The poor girl felt her heart swell within her, as -though it would burst. She had never felt so keenly that in all this -world there lived but one being upon whose love she might rely, and he -separated, it might be for ever, from her: she gathered up her work, -and ran quickly from the room, to hide the tears which she could not -restrain. - -Young Ashwoode was to the full as worldly and as unprincipled a man as -was his father; and whatever reluctance he may have felt as to adopting -Sir Richard's plans respecting O'Connor, the reader would grievously -wrong him in attributing his unwillingness to any visitings of -gratitude, or, indeed, to any other feeling than that which he had -himself avowed. A few hours' reflection had satisfied the young man of -the transcendent importance of securing Lord Aspenly; and by a -corresponding induction he had arrived at the conclusion to which his -father had already come--namely, that it was imperatively necessary by -all means to put an end effectually to his sister's correspondence with -O'Connor. To effect this object both were equally resolved; and with -respect to the means to be employed both were equally unscrupulous. -With Henry Ashwoode courage was constitutional, and art habitual. If, -therefore, either duplicity or daring could ensure success, he felt -that he must triumph; and, at all events, he was sufficiently impressed -with the importance of the object, to resolve to leave nothing untried -for its achievement. - -"You _are_ punctual, sir," said Sir Richard, glancing at his -richly-chased watch; "sit down; I have considered your suggestions of -this morning, and I am inclined to adopt them; it is most probable that -Mary, like the rest of her sex, will be taken by the splendour of the -proposal--fascinated--in short, as I said this morning--dazzled. Now, -whether she be or not--observe me, it shall be our object to make -O'Connor believe that she _is_ so. You will have his ear, and through -her maid, Carey, I can manage their correspondence; not a letter from -either can reach the other, without first meeting my eye. I am very -certain that the young fellow will lose no time in writing to her some -more of those passionate epistles, of which, as I told you, I have seen -a sample. I shall take care to have their letters _re_-written for the -future, before they come to hand; and it shall go hard, or between us -we shall manage to give each a very moderate opinion of the other's -constancy; thus the affair will--or rather must--die a natural -death--after all, the most effectual kind of mortality in such cases." - -"I called to-day upon the fellow," said the young man. "I made him out, -and without approaching the point of nearest interest, I have, -nevertheless, opened operations successfully--so far as a most -auspicious re-commencement of our acquaintance may be so accounted." - -"And, stranger still to say," rejoined the baronet, "I also encountered -him to-day; but only for some dozen seconds." - -"How!--saw O'Connor!" exclaimed young Ashwoode. - -"Yes, sir, O'Connor--Edmond O'Connor," repeated Sir Richard. "He was -coolly walking up to the house to see me, as it would seem; and I do -believe the fellow speaks truth--he _did_ see me, and that is all. I -fancy he will scarcely come here again uninvited; he said so pretty -plainly, and I believe the fellow has spirit enough to feel an -affront." - -"He did not see Mary?" inquired Henry. - -"I did not ask him, and don't choose to ask her; I don't mean to allude -to the subject in her presence," replied Sir Richard, quickly. "I -think--indeed I _know_--I can mar their plans better by appearing never -once to apprehend anything from O'Connor's pretensions. I have reasons, -too, for not wishing to deal harshly with Mary _at present_; we must -have no _scenes_, if possible. Were I to appear suspicious and uneasy, -it would put them on their guard. And now, upon the other point, did -you speak to Craven about the possibility of raising ten thousand -pounds on the Glenvarlogh property?" - -"He says it can be done very easily, if Mary joins you," replied the -young man; "but I have been thinking that if you ask her to sign any -deed, it might as well be one assigning over her interest absolutely to -you. Aspenly does not want a penny with her--in fact, from what fell -from him to-day, when I met him in town, I'm inclined to think he -believes that she has not a penny in the world; so she may as well make -it over to you, and then we can turn it all into money when and how we -please. I desired Craven to work night and day at the deeds, and have -them over by ten o'clock to-morrow morning." - -"You did quite rightly," rejoined the old gentleman. "I hardly expect -any opposition from the girl--at least no more than I can easily -frighten her out of. Should she prove sulky, however, I do not well -know where to turn: as to asking my brother Oliver, I might as well, or -_better_, ask a Jew broker; he hates me and mine with his whole heart; -and to say the truth, there is not much love lost between us. No, no, -there's nothing to be looked for in that quarter. I daresay we'll -manage one way or another--lead or drive to get Mary to sign the deed, -and if so, the ship rights again. Craven comes, you say, at ten -to-morrow?" - -"He engaged to be here at that hour with the deeds," repeated the young -man. - -"Well," said his father, yawning, "you have nothing more to say, nor I -neither--oblige me by withdrawing." So parted these congenial -relations. - -The past day had been an agitating one to Mary Ashwoode. Still suspense -was to be her doom, and the same alternations of hope and of despair -were again to rob her pillow of repose; yet even thus, happy was she in -comparison with what she must have been, had she but known the schemes -of which she was the unconscious subject. At this juncture we shall -leave the actors in this true tale, and conclude the chapter with the -close of day. - - - - -CHAPTER XIII. - -THE INTERVIEW--THE PARCHMENT--AND THE NOBLEMAN'S COACH. - - -Sir Richard Ashwoode had never in the whole course of his life denied -himself the indulgence of any passion or of any whim. From his -childhood upward he had never considered the feelings or comforts of -any living being but himself alone. As he advanced in life, this -selfishness had improved to a degree of hardness and coldness so -intense, that if ever he had felt a kindly impulse at any moment in his -existence, the very remembrance of it had entirely faded from his mind: -so that generosity, compassion, and natural affection were to him not -only unknown, but incredible. To him mankind seemed all either fools, -or such as he himself was. Without one particle of principle of any -kind, he had uniformly maintained in the world the character of an -honourable man. The ordinary rules of honesty and morality he regarded -as so many conventional sentiments, to which every gentleman -subscribed, as a matter of course, in public, but which in private he -had an unquestionable right to dispense with at his own convenience. He -was imperious, fiery, and unforgiving to the uttermost; but when he -conceived it advantageous to do so, he could practise as well as any -man the convenient art of masking malignity, hatred, and inveteracy -behind the pleasantest of all pleasant smiles. Capable of any secret -meanness for the sake of the smallest advantage to be gained by it, he -was yet full of fierce and overbearing pride; and although this world -was all in all to him, yet there never breathed a man who could on the -slightest provocation risk his life in mortal combat with more alacrity -and absolute _sang froid_ than Sir Richard Ashwoode. In his habits he -was unboundedly luxurious--in his expenditure prodigal to recklessness. -His own and his son's extravagance, which he had indulged from a kind -of pride, was now, however, beginning to make itself sorely felt in -formidable and rapidly accumulating pecuniary embarrassments. These had -served to embitter and exasperate a temper which at the best had never -been a very sweet one, and of whose ordinary pitch the reader may form -an estimate, when he hears that in the short glimpses which he has had -of Sir Richard, the baronet happened to be, owing to the circumstances -with which we have acquainted him, in extraordinarily good humour. - -Sir Richard had not married young; and when he did marry it was to pay -his debts. The lady of his choice was beautiful, accomplished, and an -heiress; and, won by his agreeability, and by his well-assumed -devotedness and passion, she yielded to the pressure of his suit. They -were married, and she gave birth successively to a son and a daughter. -Sir Richard's temper, as we have hinted, was not very placid, nor his -habits very domestic; nevertheless, the world thought the match -(putting his money difficulties out of the question) a very suitable -and a very desirable one, and took it for granted that the gay baronet -and his lady were just as happy as a fashionable man and wife ought to -be--and perhaps they were so; but, for all that, it happened that at -the end of some four years the young wife died of a broken heart. Some -strange scenes, it is said, followed between Sir Richard and the -brother of the deceased lady, Oliver French. It is believed that this -gentleman suspected the cause of Lady Ashwoode's death--at all events -he had ascertained that she had not been kindly used, and after one or -two interviews with the baronet, in which bitter words were exchanged, -the matter ended in a fierce and bloodily contested duel, in which the -baronet received three desperate wounds. His recovery was long -doubtful; but life burns strongly in some breasts; and, contrary to the -desponding predictions of his surgeons, the valuable life of Sir -Richard Ashwoode was prolonged to his family and friends. - -Since then, Sir Richard had by different agencies sought to bring about -a reconciliation with his brother-in-law, but without the smallest -success. Oliver French was a bachelor, and a very wealthy one. -Moreover, he had it in his power to dispose of his lands and money just -as he pleased. These circumstances had strongly impressed Sir Richard -with a conviction that quarrels among relations are not only unseemly, -but un-Christian. He was never in a more forgiving and forgetting mood. -He was willing even to make concessions--anything that could be -reasonably asked of him, and even more, he was ready to do--but all in -vain. Oliver was obdurate. He knew his man well. He saw and appreciated -the baronet's motives, and hated and despised him ten thousand times -more than ever. - -Repulsed in his first attempt, Sir Richard resolved to give his -adversary time to cool a little; and accordingly, after a lapse of -twelve or fourteen years, his son Henry being then a handsome lad, he -wrote to his brother-in-law a very long and touching epistle, in which -he proposed to send his son down to Ardgillagh, the place where the -alienated relative resided, with a portrait of his deceased lady, -which, of course, with no object less sacred, and to no relative less -near and respected, could he have induced himself to part. This, too, -was a total failure. Oliver French, Esquire, wrote back a very succinct -epistle, but one very full of unpleasant meaning. He said that the -portrait would be odious to him, inasmuch as it would be necessarily -associated in his mind with a marriage which had killed his sister, and -with persons whom he abhorred--that therefore he would not allow it -into his house. He stated, that to the motives which prompted his -attention he was wide awake--that he was, however, perfectly determined -that no person bearing the name or the blood of Sir Richard Ashwoode -should ever have one penny of his; adding, that the baronet could leave -his son, Mr. Henry Ashwoode, quite enough for a gentleman to live upon -respectably; and that, at all events, in his father's virtues the young -gentleman would inherit a legacy such as would insure him universal -respect, and a general welcome wherever he might happen to go, -excepting only one locality, called Ardgillagh. - -With the failure of this last attempt, of course, disappeared every -hope of success with the rich old bachelor; and the forgiving baronet -was forced to content himself, in the absence of all more substantial -rewards, with the consciousness of having done what was, under all the -circumstances, the most Christian thing he could have done, as well as -played the most knowing game, though unsuccessful, which he could have -played. - -Sir Richard Ashwoode limped downstairs to receive his intended -son-in-law, Lord Aspenly, on the day following the events which we have -detailed in our last and the preceding chapters. That nobleman had -intimated his intention to be with Sir Richard about noon. It was now -little more than ten, and the baronet was, nevertheless, restless and -fidgety. The room he occupied was a large parlour, commanding a view of -the approach to the house. Again and again he consulted his watch, and -as often hobbled over, as well as he could, to the window, where he -gazed in evident discontent down the long, straight avenue, with its -double row of fine old giant lime-trees. - -"Nearly half-past ten," muttered Sir Richard, to himself, for at his -desire he had been left absolutely alone--"ay, fully half-past, and the -fellow not come yet. No less than, two notes since eight this morning, -both of them with gratuitous mendacity renewing the appointment for ten -o'clock; and ten o'clock comes and goes, and half-an-hour more along -with it, and still no sign of Mr. Craven. If I had fixed ten o'clock to -pay his accursed, unconscionable bill of costs, he'd have been prowling -about the grounds from sunrise, and pounced upon me before the last -stroke of the clock had sounded." - -While thus the baronet was engaged in muttering his discontent, and -venting secret imprecations on the whole race of attorneys, a vehicle -rolled up to the hall-door. The bell pealed, and the knocker thundered, -and in a moment a servant entered, and announced Mr. Craven--a -square-built man of low stature, wearing his own long, grizzled hair -instead of a wig--having a florid complexion, hooked nose, beetle -brows, and long-cut, Jewish, black eyes, set close under the bridge of -his nose--who stepped with a velvet tread into the room. An unvarying -smile sate upon his thin lips, and about his whole air and manner there -was a certain indescribable sanctimoniousness, which was rather -enhanced by the puritanical plainness of his attire. - -"Sir Richard, I beg pardon--rather late, I fear," said he, in a dulcet, -insinuating tone--"hard work, nevertheless, I do assure -you--ninety-seven skins--splendidly engrossed--quite a treat--five of -my young men up all night--I have got one of them outside to witness it -along with me. Some reading in the thing, I promise you; but I hope--I -_do_ hope, I am not very late?" - -"Not at all--not at all, my dear Mr. Craven," said Sir Richard, with -his most engaging smile; for, as we have hinted, "dear Mr. Craven" had -not made the science of conveyancing peculiarly cheap in practice to -the baronet, who accordingly owed him more costs than it would have -been quite convenient to pay upon a short notice--"I'll just, with your -assistance, glance through these parchments, though to do so be but a -matter of form. Pray take a chair beside me--there. Now then to -business." - -Accordingly to business they went. Practice, they say, makes perfect, -and the baronet had had, unfortunately for himself, a great deal of it -in such matters during the course of his life. He knew how to read a -deed as well as the most experienced counsel at the Irish bar, and was -able consequently to detect with wonderfully little rummaging and -fumbling in the ninety-seven skins of closely written verbiage, the -seven lines of sense which they enveloped. Little more than -half-an-hour had therefore satisfied Sir Richard that the mass of -parchment before him, after reciting with very considerable accuracy -the deeds and process by which the lands of Glenvarlogh were settled -upon his daughter, went on to state that for and in consideration of -the sum of five shillings, good and lawful money, she, being past the -age of twenty-one, in every possible phrase and by every word which -tautology could accumulate, handed over the said lands, absolutely to -her father, Sir Richard Ashwoode, Bart., of Morley Court, in the county -of Dublin, to have, and to hold, and to make ducks and drakes of, to -the end of time, constantly affirming at the end of every sentence that -she was led to do all this for and in consideration of the sum of five -shillings, good and lawful money. As soon as Sir Richard had seen all -this, which was, as we have said, in little more than half-an-hour, he -pulled the bell, and courteously informing Mr. Craven, the immortal -author of the interesting document which he had just perused, that he -would find chocolate and other refreshments in the library, and -intimating that he would perhaps disturb him in about ten minutes, he -consigned that gentleman to the guidance of the servant, whom he also -directed to summon Miss Ashwoode to his presence. - -"Her signing this deed," thought he, as he awaited her arrival, "will -make her absolutely dependent upon me--it will make rebellion, -resistance, murmuring, impossible; she then _must_ do as I would have -her, or--Ah? my dear child," exclaimed the baronet, as his daughter -entered the room, addressing her in the sweetest imaginable voice, and -instantaneously dismissing the sinister menace which had sat upon his -countenance, and clothing it instead as suddenly with an absolute -radiance of affection, "come here and kiss me and sit down by my -side--are you well to-day? you look pale--you smile--well, well! it -cannot be anything _very_ bad. You shall run out just now with Emily. -But first, I must talk with you for a little, and, strange enough, on -business too." The old gentleman paused for an instant to arrange the -order of his address, and then continued. "Mary, I will tell you -frankly more of my affairs than I have told to almost any person -breathing. In my early days, and indeed _after_ my marriage, I was far, -_far_ too careless in money matters. I involved myself considerably, -and owing to various circumstances, tiresome now to dwell upon, I have -never been able to extricate myself from these difficulties. Henry too, -your brother, is fearfully prodigal--fearfully; and has within the last -three or four years enormously aggravated my embarrassments, and of -course multiplied my anxieties most grievously, most distractingly. I -feel that my spirits are gone, my health declining, and, worse than -all, my temper, yes--my _temper_ soured. You do not know, you cannot -know, how bitterly I feel, with what intense pain, and sorrow, and -contrition, and--and _remorse_, I reflect upon those bursts of -ill-temper, of acrimony, of passion, to which, spite of every -resistance, I am becoming every day more and more prone." Here the -baronet paused to call up a look of compunctious anguish, an effort in -which he was considerably assisted by an acute twinge in his great toe. - -"Yes," he continued, when the pain had subsided, "I am now growing old, -I am breaking very fast, sinking, I feel it--I cannot be very long a -trouble to anybody--embarrassments are closing around me on all -sides--I have not the means of extricating myself--despondency, despair -have come upon me, and with them loss of spirits, loss of health, of -strength, of everything which makes life a blessing; and, all these -privations rendered more horrible, more agonizing, by the reflection -that my ill-humour, my peevish temper, are continually taxing the -patience, wounding the feelings, perhaps alienating the affections of -those who are nearest and dearest to me." - -Here the baronet became _very_ much affected; but, lest his agitation -should be seen, he turned his head away, while he grasped his -daughter's hand convulsively: the poor girl covered his with kisses. He -had wrung her very heart. - -"There is one course," continued he, "by adopting which I might -extricate myself from all my difficulties"--here he raised his eyes -with a haggard expression, and glared wildly along the cornice--"but I -confess I have great hesitation in leaving _you_." - -He wrung her hand very hard, and groaned slightly. - -"Father, dear father," said she, "do not speak thus--do not--you -frighten me." - -"I was wrong, my dear child, to tell you of struggles of which none but -myself ought to have known anything," said the baronet, gloomily. "One -person indeed has the power to assist, I may say, to _save_ me." - -"And who is that person, father?" asked the girl. - -"Yourself," replied Sir Richard, emphatically. - -"How?--I!" said she, turning very pale, for a dreadful suspicion -crossed her mind--"how can _I_ help you, father?" - -The old gentleman explained briefly; and the girl, relieved of her -worst fears, started joyously from her seat, clapped her hands together -with gladness, and, throwing her arms about her father's neck, -exclaimed,-- - -"And is that all?--oh, father; why did you defer telling me so long? -you ought to have known how delighted I would have been to do anything -for you; indeed you ought; tell them to get the papers ready -immediately." - -"They _are_ ready, my dear," said Sir Richard, recovering his -self-possession wonderfully, and ringing the bell with a good deal of -hurry--for he fully acknowledged the wisdom of the old proverb, which -inculcates the expediency of striking while the iron's hot--"your -brother had them prepared yesterday, I believe. Inform Mr. Craven," he -continued, addressing the servant, "that I would be very glad to see -him now, and say he may as well bring in the young gentleman who has -accompanied him." - -Mr. Craven accordingly appeared, and the "young gentleman," who had but -one eye, and a very seedy coat, entered along with him. The latter -personage bustled about a good deal, slapped the deeds very -emphatically down on the table, and rumpled the parchments sonorously, -looked about for pen and ink, set a chair before the document, and then -held one side of the parchment, while Mr. Craven screwed his knuckles -down upon the other, and the parties forthwith signed; whereupon Mr. -Craven and the one-eyed young gentleman both sat down, and began to -sign away with a great deal of scratching and flourishing on the places -allotted for witnesses; after all which, Mr. Craven, raising himself -with a smile, told Miss Ashwoode, facetiously, that the Chancellor -could not have done so much for the deed as she had done; and the -one-eyed young gentleman held his nose contemplatively between his -finger and thumb, and reviewed the signatures with his solitary optic. - -Miss Ashwoode then withdrew, and Mr. Craven and the "young gentleman" -made their bows. Sir Richard beckoned to Mr. Craven, and he glided back -and closed the door, having commanded the "young gentleman" to see if -the coach was ready. - -"You see, Mr. Craven," said Sir Richard, who, spite of all his -philosophy, felt a little ashamed even that the attorney should have -seen the transaction which had just been completed--"you see, sir, I -may as well tell you candidly: my daughter, who has just signed this -deed, is about immediately to be married to Lord Aspenly; _he_ kindly -offered to lend me some fifteen thousand pounds, or thereabouts, and I -converted this offer (which I, of course, accepted), into the -assignment, from his bride, that is to be, of this little property, -giving, of course, to his lordship my personal security for the debt -which I consider as owed to him: this arrangement his lordship -preferred as the most convenient possible. I thought it right, in -strict confidence, of course, to explain the real state of the case to -you, as at first sight the thing looks selfish, and I do not wish to -stand worse in my friends' books than I actually deserve to do." This -was spoken with Sir Richard's most engaging smile, and Mr. Craven -smiled in return, most artlessly--at the same time he mentally -ejaculated, "d----d sly!" "You'll bring this security, my dear Mr. -Craven," continued the baronet, "into the market with all dispatch--do -you think you can manage twenty thousand upon it?" - -"I fear not more than fourteen, or perhaps, sixteen, with an effort. I -do not think Glenvarlogh would carry much more--I fear not; but rely -upon me, Sir Richard; I'll do everything that can be done--at all -events, I'll lose no time about it, depend upon it--I may as well take -this deed along with me--I have the rest; and title is very--_very_ -satisfactory--good-morning, Sir Richard," and the man of parchments -withdrew, leaving Sir Richard in a more benevolent mood than he had -experienced for many a long day. - -The attorney had not been many seconds gone, when a second vehicle -thundered up to the door, and a perfect storm of knocking and ringing -announced the arrival of Lord Aspenly himself. - - - - -CHAPTER XIV. - -ABOUT A CERTAIN GARDEN AND A DAMSEL--AND ALSO CONCERNING A LETTER AND A -RED LEATHERN BOX. - - -Several days passed smoothly away--Lord Aspenly was a perfect paragon -of politeness; but although his manner invariably assumed a peculiar -tenderness whenever he approached Miss Ashwoode, yet that young lady -remained in happy ignorance of his real intentions. She saw before her -a grotesque old fop, who might without any extraordinary parental -precocity have very easily been her grandfather, and in his airs and -graces, his rappee and his rouge (for his lordship condescended to -borrow a few attractions from art), and in the thousand-and-one _et -ceteras_ of foppery which were accumulated, with great exactitude and -precision, on and about his little person, she beheld nothing more than -so many indications of obstinate and inveterate celibacy, and, of -course, interpreted the exquisite attentions which were meant to -enchain her young heart, merely as so much of that formal target -practice in love's archery, in which gallant single gentlemen of -seventy, or thereabout, will sometimes indulge themselves. Emily -Copland, however, at a glance, saw and understood the nature of Lord -Aspenly's attentions, and she saw just as clearly the intended parts -and the real position of the other actors in this somewhat ill-assorted -drama, and thereupon she took counsel with herself, like a wise damsel, -and arrived at the conclusion, that with some little management she -might, very possibly, play her own cards to advantage among them. - -We must here, however, glance for a few minutes at some of the -subordinate agents in our narrative, whose interposition, nevertheless, -deeply, as well as permanently, affected the destinies of more -important personages. - -It was the habit of the beautiful Mistress Betsy Carey, every morning, -weather permitting, to enjoy a ramble in the grounds of Morley Court; -and as chance (of course it was chance) would have it, this early -ramble invariably led her through several quiet fields, and over a -stile, into a prettily-situated, but neglected flower-garden, which was -now, however, undergoing a thorough reform, according to the Dutch -taste, under the presiding inspiration of Tobias Potts. Now Tobias -Potts was a widower, having been in the course of his life twice -disencumbered. The last Mrs. Potts had disappeared some five winters -since, and Tobias was now well stricken in years; he possessed the eyes -of an owl, and the complexion of a turkey-cock, and was, moreover, -extremely hard of hearing, and, withal, a man of few words; he was, -however, hale, upright, and burly--perfectly sound in wind and limb, -and free from vice and children--had a snug domicile, consisting of two -rooms and a loft, enjoyed a comfortable salary, and had, it was -confidently rumoured, put by a good round sum of money somewhere or -other. It therefore struck Mrs. Carey very forcibly, that to be Mrs. -Potts was a position worth attaining; and accordingly, without -incurring any suspicion--for the young women generally regarded Potts -with awe, and the young men with contempt--she began, according to the -expressive phrase in such case made and provided, to set her cap at -Tobias. - -In this, his usual haunt, she discovered the object of her search, -busily employed in superintending the construction of a terrace walk, -and issuing his orders with the brevity, decision, and clearness of a -consummate gardener. - -"Good-morning, Mr. Potts," said the charming Betsy. Mr. Potts did not -hear. "Good-morning, Mr. Potts," repeated the damsel, raising her voice -to a scream. - -Tobias touched his hat with a gruff acknowledgment. - -"Well, but how beautiful you are doing it," shouted the handmaid again, -gazing rapturously upon the red earthen rampart, in which none but the -eye of an artist could have detected the rudiments of a terrace, "it's -wonderful neat, all must allow, and indeed it puzzles my head to think -how you can think of it all; it _is_ now, _raly_ elegant, so it is." - -Tobias did not reply, and the maiden continued, with a sentimental air, -and still hallooing at the top of her voice-- - -"Well, of all the trades that is--and big and little, there's a plenty -of them--there's none I'd choose, if I was a man, before the trade of a -gardener." - -"No, you would not, _I'm_ sure," was the laconic reply. - -"Oh, but I declare and purtest _I would_ though," bawled the young -woman; "for gardeners, old or young, is always so good-humoured, and -pleasant, and fresh-like. Oh, dear, but I would like to be a gardener." - -"Not an _old_ one, howsomever," growled Mr. Potts. - -"Yes, but I would though, I declare and purtest to goodness gracious," -persisted the nymph; "I'd rather of the two perfer to be an _old_ -gardener" (this was a bold stroke of oratory; but Potts did not hear -it); "I'd rather be an _old_ gardener," she screamed a second time; -"I'd rather be an _old_ gardener of the two, so I would." - -"That's more than _I_ would," replied Potts, very abruptly, and with an -air of uncommon asperity, for he silently cherished a lingering belief -in his own juvenility, and not the less obstinately that it was fast -becoming desperate--a peculiarity of which, unfortunately, until that -moment the damsel had never been apprised. This, therefore, was a turn -which a good deal disconcerted the young woman, especially as she -thought she detected a satirical leer upon the countenance of a young -man in crazy inexpressibles, who was trundling a wheelbarrow in the -immediate vicinity; she accordingly exclaimed not loud enough for -Tobias, but quite loud enough for the young man in the infirm breeches -to hear,-- - -"What an old fool. I purtest it's meat and drink to me to tease him--so -it is;" and with a forced giggle she tripped lightly away to retrace -her steps towards the house. - -As she approached the stile we have mentioned, she thought she -distinguished what appeared to be the inarticulate murmurings of some -subterranean voice almost beneath her feet. A good deal startled at so -prodigious a phenomenon, she stopped short, and immediately heard the -following brief apostrophe delivered in a rich brogue:-- - -"Aiqually beautiful and engaging--vartuous Betsy Carey--listen to the -voice of tindher emotion." - -The party addressed looked with some alarm in all directions for any -visible intimation of the speaker's presence, but in vain. At length, -from among an unusually thick and luxuriant tuft of docks and other -weeds, which grew at the edge of a ditch close by, she beheld something -red emerging, which in a few moments she clearly perceived to be the -classical countenance of Larry Toole. - -"The Lord _purtect_ us all, Mr. Toole. Why in the world do you frighten -people this way?" ejaculated the nymph, rather shrilly. - -"Whist! most evangelical iv women," exclaimed Larry in a low key, and -looking round suspiciously--"whisht! or we are ruined." - -"La! Mr. Laurence, what _are_ you after?" rejoined the damsel, with a -good deal of asperity. "I'll have you to know I'm not used to talk with -a man that's squat in a ditch, and his head in a dock plant. That's not -the way for to come up to an honest woman, sir--no more it is." - -"I'd live ten years in a ditch, and die in a dock plant," replied Larry -with enthusiasm, "for one sight iv you." - -"And is that what brought you here?" replied she, with a toss of her -head. "I purtest some people's quite overbearing, so they are, and -knows no bounds." - -"Stop a minute, most beautiful bayin'--for one instant minute pay -attintion," exclaimed Mr. Toole, eagerly, for he perceived that she had -commenced her retreat. "Tare an' owns! divine crature, it's not _goin'_ -you are?" - -"I have no notions, good or bad, Mr. Toole," replied the young lady, -with great volubility and dignity, "and no idaya in the wide world for -to be standing here prating, and talking, and losing my time with such -as you--if my business is neglected, it is not on your back the blame -will light. I have my work, and my duty, and my business to mind, and -if I do not mind them, no one else will do it for me; and I am -astonished and surprised beyant telling, so I am, at the impittence of -some people, thinking that the likes of me has nothing else to be doing -but listening to them discoorsing in a dirty ditch, and more particular -when their conduct has been sich as some people's that is old enough at -any rate to know better." - -The fair handmaiden had now resumed her retreat; so that Larry, having -raised himself from his lowly hiding-place, was obliged to follow for -some twenty yards before he again came up with her. - -"Wait one half second--stop a bit, for the Lord's sake," exclaimed he, -with most earnest energy. - -"Well, wonst for all, Mr. Laurence," exclaimed Mistress Carey severely, -"what _is_ your business with me?" - -"Jist this," rejoined Larry, with a mysterious wink, and lowering his -voice--"a letter to the young mistress from"--here he glanced jealously -round, and then bringing himself close beside her, he whispered in her -ear--"from Mr. O'Connor--whisht--not a word--into her own hand, mind." - -The young woman took the letter, read the superscription, and forthwith -placed it in her bosom, and rearranged her kerchief. - -"Never fear--never fear," said she, "Miss Mary shall have it in half an -hour. And how," added she, maliciously, "_is_ Mr. O'Connor? He is a -lovely gentleman, is not he?" - -"He's uncommonly well in health, the Lord be praised," replied Mr. -Toole, with very unaccountable severity. - -"Well, for my part," continued the girl, "I never seen the man yet to -put beside him--unless, indeed, the young master may be. He's a very -pretty young man--and so shocking agreeable." - -Mr. Toole nodded a pettish assent, coughed, muttered something to -himself, and then inquired when he should come for an answer. - -"I'll have an answer to-morrow morning--maybe this evening," pursued -she; "but do not be coming so close up to the house. Who knows who -might be on our backs in an instant here? I'll walk down whenever I get -it to the two mulberries at the old gate; and I'll go there either in -the morning at this hour, or else a little before supper-time in the -evening." - -Mr. Toole, having gazed rapturously at the object of his tenderest -aspirations during the delivery of this address, was at its termination -so far transported by his feelings, as absolutely to make a kind of -indistinct and flurried attempt to kiss her. - -"Well, I purtest, this is overbearing," exclaimed the virgin; and at -the same time bestowing Mr. Toole a sound box on the ear, she tripped -lightly toward the house, leaving her admirer a prey to what are -usually termed conflicting emotions. - -When Sir Richard returned to his dressing-room at about noon, to -prepare for dinner, he had hardly walked to the toilet, and rung for -his Italian servant, when a knock was heard at his chamber door, and, -in obedience to his summons, Mistress Carey entered. - -"Well, Carey," inquired the baronet, as soon as she had appeared, "do -you bring me any news?" - -The lady's-maid closed the door carefully. - -"News?" she repeated. "Indeed, but I do, Sir Richard--and bad news, I'm -afeard, sir. Mr. O'Connor has written a great long letter to my -mistress, if you please, sir." - -"Have you gotten it?" inquired the baronet, quickly. - -"Yes, sir," rejoined she, "safe and sound here in my breast, Sir -Richard." - -"Your young mistress has not opened it--or read it?" inquired he. - -"Oh, dear! Sir Richard, it is after all you said to me only the other -day," rejoined she, in virtuous horror. "I hope I know my place better -than to be fetching and carrying notes and letters, and all soarts, -unnonst to my master. Don't I know, sir, very well how that you're the -best judge what's fitting and what isn't for the sight of your own -precious child? and wouldn't I be very unnatural, and very hardened and -ungrateful, if I was to be making secrets in the family, and if any -ill-will or misfortunes was to come out of it? I purtest I never--never -would forgive myself--never--no more I ought--never." - -Here Mistress Carey absolutely wept. - -"Give me the letter," said Sir Richard, drily. - -The damsel handed it to him; and he, having glanced at the seal and the -address, deposited the document safely in a small leathern box which -stood upon his toilet, and having locked it safely therein, he turned -to the maid, and patting her on the cheek with a smile, he remarked,-- - -"Be a good girl, Carey, and you shall find you have consulted your -interest best." - -Here Mistress Carey was about to do justice to her own -disinterestedness in a very strong protestation, but the baronet -checked her with an impatient wave of the hand, and continued,-- - -"Say not on any account one word to any person touching this letter, -until you have your directions from me. Stay--this will buy you a -ribbon. Good-bye--be a good girl." - -So saying, the baronet placed a guinea in the girl's hand, which, with -a courtesy, having transferred to her pocket, she withdrew rather -hurriedly, for she heard the valet in the next room. - - - - -CHAPTER XV. - -THE TRAITOR. - - -Upon the day following, O'Connor had not yet received any answer to his -letter. He was, however, not a little surprised instead to receive a -second visit from young Ashwoode. - -"I am very glad, my dear O'Connor," said the young man as he entered, -"to have found you alone. I have been wishing very much for this -opportunity, and was half afraid as I came upstairs that I should again -have been disappointed. The fact is, I wish much to speak to you upon a -subject of great difficulty and delicacy--one in which, however, I -naturally feel so strong an interest, that I may speak to you upon it, -and freely, too, without impertinence. I allude to your attachment to -my sister. Do not imagine, my dear O'Connor, that I am going to lecture -you on prudence and all that; and above all, my dear fellow, do not -think I want to tax your confidence more deeply than you are willing I -should; I know quite enough for all I would suggest; I know the plain -fact that you love my sister--I have long known it, and this is -enough." - -"Well, sir, what follows?" said O'Connor, dejectedly. - -"Do not call me _sir_--call me friend--fellow--fool--anything you -please but that," replied Ashwoode, kindly; and after a brief pause, he -continued: "I need not, and cannot disguise it from you, that I was -much opposed to this, and vexed extremely at the girl's encouragement -of what I considered a most imprudent suit. I have, however, learned to -think differently--very differently. After all my littlenesses and -pettishness, for which you must have, if not abhorred, at least -despised me from your very heart--after all this, I say, your noble -conduct in risking your own life to save my worthless blood is what I -never can enough admire, and honour, and thank." Here he grasped -O'Connor's hand, and shook it warmly. "After this, I tell you, -O'Connor, that were there offered to me, on my sister's behoof, on the -one side the most brilliant alliance in wealth and rank that ever -ambition dreamed of, and upon the other side this hand of yours, I -would, so heaven is my witness, forego every allurement of titles, -rank, and riches, and give my sister to you. I have come here, -O'Connor, frankly to offer you my aid and advice--to prove to you my -sincerity, and, if possible, to realize your wishes." - -O'Connor could hardly believe his senses. Here was the man who, -scarcely six days since, he felt assured, would more readily have -suffered him to thrust him through the body than consent to his -marriage with Mary Ashwoode, now not merely consenting to it, but -offering cordially and spontaneously all the assistance in his power -towards effecting that very object. Had he heard him aright? One look -at his expressive face--the kindly pressure of his hand--everything -assured him that he had justly comprehended all that Ashwoode had -spoken, and a glow of hope, warmer than had visited him for years, -cheered his heart. - -"In the meantime," continued Ashwoode, "I must tell you exactly how -matters stand at Morley Court. The Earl of Aspenly, of whom you may -have heard, is paying his addresses to my sister." - -"The Earl of Aspenly," echoed O'Connor, slightly colouring. "I had not -heard of this before--she did not name him." - -"Yet she has known it a good while," returned Ashwoode, with -well-affected surprise--"a month, I believe, or more. He's now at -Morley Court, and means to make some stay--are you sure she never -mentioned him?" - -"Titled, and, of course, rich," said O'Connor, scarce hearing the -question. "Why should I have heard of this by chance, and from -another--why this reserve--this silence?" - -"Nay, nay," replied Henry, "you must not run away with the matter thus. -Mary may have forgotten it, _or_--or not liked to tell you--not cared -to give you needless uneasiness." - -"I wish she had--I wish she had--I am--I am, indeed, Ashwoode, very, -very unhappy," said O'Connor, with extreme dejection. "Forgive -me--forgive my folly, since folly it seems--I fear I weary you." - -"Well, well, since it seems you have _not_ heard of it," rejoined -Henry, carelessly throwing himself back in his chair, "you may as well -learn it now--not that there is any real cause of alarm in the matter, -as I shall presently show you, but simply that you may understand the -position of the enemy. Lord Aspenly, then, is at present at Morley -Court, where he is received as Mary's lover--observe me, only as her -lover--not yet, and I trust _never_ as her _accepted_ lover." - -"Go on--pray go on," said O'Connor, with suppressed but agonized -anxiety. - -"Now, though my father is very hot about the match," resumed his -visitor, "it may appear strange enough to you that _I_ never was. -There are a few--a very few--advantages in the matter, of course, -viewing it merely in its worldly aspect. But Lord Aspenly's property -is a good deal embarrassed, and he is of violently Whig politics and -connections, the very thing most hated by my old Tory uncle, Oliver -French, whom my father has been anxious to cultivate; besides, the -disparity in years is so very great that it is ridiculous--I might -almost say _indecent_--and this even in point of family standing, and -indeed of reputation, putting aside every better consideration, is -objectionable. I have urged all these things upon my father, and -perhaps we should not find any insurmountable obstacle _there_; but -the fact is, there is another difficulty, one of which until this -morning I never dreamed--the most whimsical difficulty imaginable." -Here the young man raised his eyebrows, and laughed faintly, while he -looked upon the floor, and O'Connor, with increasing earnestness, -implored him to proceed. "It appears so very absurd and perverse an -obstacle," continued Ashwoode, with a very quizzical expression, "that -one does not exactly know how to encounter it--to say the truth, I -think that the girl is a little--perhaps the least imaginable -degree--taken--dazzled--caught by the notion of being a countess; it's -very natural, you know, but then I would have expected better from -her." - -"By heavens, it is impossible!" exclaimed O'Connor, starting to his -feet; "I cannot believe it; you must, indeed, my dear Ashwoode, you -_must_ have been deceived." - -"Well, then," rejoined the young man, "I have lost my skill in reading -young ladies' minds--that's all; but even though I should be right--and -never believe me if I am _not_ right--it does not follow that the giddy -whim won't pass away just as suddenly as it came; her most lasting -impressions--with, I should hope, one exception--were never very -enduring. I have been talking to her for nearly half an hour this -morning--laughing with her about Lord Aspenly's suit, and building -castles in the air about what she will and what she won't do when she's -a countess. But, by the way, how did you let her know that you intend -returning to France at the end of this month, only, as she told me, -however, for a few weeks? She mentioned it yesterday incidentally. -Well, it is a comfort that I hear your secrets, though _you_ won't -entrust them to me. But do not, my dear fellow--_do_ not look so very -black--you very much overrate the firmness of women's minds, and -greatly indeed exaggerate that of my sister's character if you believe -that this vexatious whim which has entered her giddy pate will remain -there longer than a week. The simple fact is that the excitement and -bustle of all this has produced an unusual flow of high spirits, which -will, of course, subside with the novelty of the occasion. Pshaw! why -so cast down?--there is nothing in the matter to surprise one--the -caprice of women knows do rule. I tell you I would almost stake my -reputation as a prophet, that when this giddy excitement passes away, -her feelings will return to their old channel." O'Connor still paced -the room in silence. "Meanwhile," continued the young man, "if anything -occur to you--if I can be useful to you in any way, command me -absolutely, and till you see me next, take heart of grace." He grasped -O'Connor's hand--it was cold as clay; and bidding him farewell, once -more took his departure. - -"Well," thought he, as he threw his leg across his high-bred gelding at -the inn door, "I have shot the first shaft home." - -And so he had, for the heart at which it was directed, unfenced by -suspicion, lay open to his traitorous practices. O'Connor's letter, an -urgent and a touching one, was still unanswered; it never for a moment -crossed his mind that it had not reached the hand for which it was -intended. The maid who had faithfully delivered all the letters which -had passed between them had herself received it; and young Ashwoode had -but the moment before mentioned, from his sister's lips, the subject on -which it was written--his meditated departure for France. This, too, it -appeared, she had spoken of in the midst of gay and light-hearted -trilling, and projects of approaching magnificence and dissipation with -his rich and noble rival. Twice since the delivery of that letter had -his servant seen Miss Ashwoode's maid; and in the communicative -colloquy which had ensued she had told--no doubt according to -well-planned instructions--how gay and unusually merry her mistress -was, and how she passed whole hours at her toilet, and the rest of her -time in the companionship of Lord Aspenly--so that between his -lordship's society, and her own preparations for it, she had scarcely -allowed herself time to read the letter in question, much less to -answer it. - -All these things served to fill O'Connor's mind with vague but -agonizing doubts--doubts which he vainly strove to combat; fears which -had not their birth in an alarmed imagination, but which, alas! were -but too surely approved by reason. The notion of a systematic plot, -embracing so many agents, and conducted with such deep and hellish -hypocrisy, with the sole purpose of destroying affections the most -beautiful, and of alienating hearts the truest, was a thought so -monstrous and unnatural that it never for a second flashed upon his -mind; still his heart struggled strongly against despair. Spite of all -that looked gloomy in what he saw--spite of the boding suggestions of -his worst fears, he would not believe her false to him--that she who -had so long and so well loved and trusted him--she whose gentle heart -he knew unchanged and unchilled by years, and distance, and -misfortunes--that she should, after all, have fallen away from him, and -given up that heart, which once was his, to vanity and the hollow -glitter of the world--this he could hardly bring himself to believe, -yet what was he to think? alas! what? - - - - -CHAPTER XVI. - -SHOWING SIGNOR PARUCCI ALONE WITH THE WIG-BLOCKS--THE BARONET'S -HAND-BELL AND THE ITALIAN'S TASK. - - -Morley Court was a queer old building--very large and very irregular. -The main part of the dwelling, and what appeared to be the original -nucleus, upon which after-additions had grown like fantastic -incrustations, was built of deep-red brick, with many recesses and -projections and gables, and tall and grotesquely-shaped chimneys, and -having broad, jutting, heavily-sashed windows, such as belonged to -Henry the Eighth's time, to which period the origin of the building -was, with sufficient probability, referred. The great avenue, which -extended in a direct line to more than the long half of an Irish mile, -led through double rows of splendid old lime-trees, some thirty paces -apart, and arching in a vast and shadowy groining overhead, to the -front of the building. To the rearward extended the rambling additions -which necessity or caprice had from time to time suggested, as the -place, in the lapse of years, passed into the hands of different -masters. One of these excrescences, a quaint little prominence, with a -fanciful gable and chimney of its own, jutted pleasantly out upon the -green sward, courting the friendly shelter of the wild and graceful -trees, and from its casement commanding through the parting boughs no -views but those of quiet fields, distant woodlands, and the far-off -blue hills. This portion of the building contained in the upper story -one small room, to the full as oddly shaped as the outer casing of -fantastic masonry in which it was inclosed--the door opened upon a back -staircase which led from the lower apartments to Sir Richard's -dressing-room; and partly owing to this convenient arrangement, and -partly perhaps to the comfort and seclusion of the chamber itself, it -had been long appropriated to the exclusive occupation of Signor Jacopo -Parucci, Sir Richard's valet and confidential servant. This man was, as -his name would imply, an Italian. Sir Richard had picked him up, some -thirty years before the period at which we have dated our story, in -Naples, where it was said the baronet had received from him very -important instructions in the inner mysteries of that golden science -which converts chance into certainty--a science in which Sir Richard -was said to have become a masterly proficient; and indeed so loudly had -fame begun to bruit his excellence therein, that he found it at last -necessary, or at least highly advisable, to forego the fascinations of -the gaming-table, and to bid to the worship of fortune an eternal -farewell, just at the moment when the fickle goddess promised with -golden profusion to reward his devotion. - -Whatever his reason was, Sir Richard had been to this man a good -master; he had, it was said, and not without reason, enriched him; and, -moreover, it was a strange fact, that in all his capricious and savage -moods, from whose consequences not only his servants but his own -children had no exemption, he had never once treated this person -otherwise than with the most marked civility. What the man's services -had actually been, and to what secret influence he owed the close and -confidential terms upon which he unquestionably stood with Sir Richard, -these things were mysteries, and, of course, furnished inexhaustible -matter of scandalous speculation among the baronet's dependents and -most intimate friends. - -The room of which we speak was Parucci's snuggery. It contained in a -recess behind the door that gentleman's bed--a plain, low, uncurtained -couch; and variously disposed about the apartment an abundance of -furniture of much better kind; the recess of the window was filled by a -kind of squat press, which was constructed in the lower part, and which -contained, as certain adventurous chambermaids averred, having peeped -into its dim recesses when some precious opportunity presented itself, -among other shadowy shapes, the forms of certain flasks and bottles -with long necks, and several tall glasses of different dimensions. Two -or three tables of various sizes of dark shining wood, with legs after -the fashion of the nether limbs of hippogriffs and fauns, seemed about -to walk from their places, and to stamp and claw at random about the -floor. A large, old press of polished oak, with spiral pillars of the -same flanking it in front, contained the more precious articles of -Signor Parucci's wardrobe. Close beside it, in a small recess, stood a -set of shelves, on which were piled various matters, literary and -otherwise, among which perhaps none were disturbed twice in the year, -with the exception of six or eight packs of cards, with which, for old -associations' sake, Signor Jacopo used to amuse himself now and again -in his solitary hours. - -On one of the tables stood two blocks supporting each a flowing black -peruke, which it was almost the only duty of the tenant of this -interesting sanctuary to tend, and trim, and curl. Upon the dusky -tapestry were pinned several coloured prints, somewhat dimmed by time, -but evidently of very equivocal morality. A birding-piece and a -fragment of a fishing-rod covered with dust, neither of which Signor -Parucci had ever touched for the last twenty years, were suspended over -the mantelpiece; and upon the side of the recess, and fully lighted by -the window, in attestation of his gentler and more refined pursuits, -hung a dingy old guitar apparently still in use, for the strings, -though a good deal cobbled and knotted, were perfect in number. A huge, -high-backed, well-stuffed chair, in which a man might lie as snugly as -a kernel in its shell, was placed at the window, and in it reclined the -presiding genius of the place himself, with his legs elevated so as to -rest upon the broad window-sill, formed by the roof of the mysterious -press which we have already mentioned. The Italian was a little man, -very slight, with long hair, a good deal grizzled, flowing upon his -shoulders; he had a sallow complexion and thin hooked nose, piercing -black eyes, lean cheeks, and sharp chin--and altogether a lank, -attenuated, and somewhat intellectual cast of face, with, however, a -certain expression of malice and cunning about the leer of his eye, as -well as in the character of his thin and colourless lip, which made him -by no means a very pleasant object to look upon. - -"Fine weather--almost Italy," said the little man, lazily pushing open -the casement with his foot. "I am surprise, good, dear, sweet Sir -Richard, his bell is stop so long quiet. Why is it not go ding, ding, -dingeri, dingeri, ding-a-ding, ding, as usual. Damnation! what do I -care he ring de bell and I leesten. We are not always young, and I must -be allow to be a leetle deaf when he is allow to be a leetle gouty. -Gode blace my body, how hot is de sun. Come down here, leer of -Apollo--come to my arm, meestress of my heart--Orpheus' leer, come -queekly." This was addressed to the ancient instrument of music which -we have already mentioned, and the invitation was accompanied by an -appropriate elevation of his two little legs, which he raised until he -gently closed his feet upon the sides of the "leer of Apollo," which, -with a good deal of dexterity, he unhung from its peg, and conveyed -within reach of his hand. He cast a look of fond admiration at its -dingy and time-dried face, and forthwith, his heels still resting upon -the window-sill, he was soon thrumming a tinkling symphony, none of the -most harmonious, and then, with uncommon zeal, he began, to his own -accompaniment, to sing some ditty of Italian love. While engaged in -this refined and touching employment, he espied, with unutterable -indignation, a young urchin, who, attracted by the sounds of his -amorous minstrelsy, and with a view to torment the performer, who was -an extremely unpopular personage, had stationed himself at a little -distance before the casement, and accompanied the vocal performance of -the Italian with the most hideous grimaces, and the most absurd and -insulting gesticulations. - -Signor Parucci would have given a good round sum to have had the -engaging boy by the ears; but this he knew was out of the question; he -therefore (for he was a philosopher) played and sung on without -evincing the smallest consciousness of what was going forward. His -plans of vengeance were, however, speedily devised and no less quickly -executed. There lay upon the window-sill a fragment of biscuit, which -in the course of an ecstatic flourish the little man kicked carelessly -over. The bait had hardly touched the ground beneath the casement when -Jacopo, continuing to play and sing the while, and apparently -unconscious of anything but his own music, to his infinite delight -beheld the boy first abate his exertions, and finally put an end to his -affronting pantomime altogether, and begin to manoeuvre in the -direction of the treacherous windfall. The youth gradually approached -it, and just at the moment when it was within his grasp, Signor -Parucci, with another careless touch of his foot, sent over a large -bow-pot well stored with clay, which stood upon the window-block. The -descent of this ponderous missile was followed by a most heart-stirring -acclamation from below; and good Mr. Parucci, clambering along the -window-sill, and gazing downward, was regaled by the spectacle of the -gesticulating youth stamping about the grass among what appeared to be -the fragments of a hundred flower-pots, writhing and bellowing in -transports of indignation and bodily torment. - -"Povero ragazzo--Carissimo figlio," exclaimed the valet, looking out -with an expression of infinite sweetness, "my dear child and charming -boy, how 'av you broke my flower-pote, and when 'av you come here. Ah! -per Bacco, I think I 'av see you before. Ah! yees, you are that -sweetest leetel boy that was leestening at my music--so charming just -now. How much clay is on your back! a cielo! amiable child, you might -'av keel yourself. Sacro numine, what an escape! Say your prayer, and -thank heaven you are safe, my beautiful, sweetest, leetel boy. God -blace you. Now rone away very fast, for fear you pool the other two -flower-potes on your back, sweetest child. Gode bless you, amiable -boy--they are very large and very heavy." - -The youth took the hint, and having had quite enough of Mr. Parucci's -music for the evening, withdrew under the combined influences of fury -and lumbago. The little man threw himself back in his chair, and hugged -his shins in sheer delight, grinning and chattering like a delirious -monkey, and rolling himself about, and laughing with the most exquisite -relish. At length, after this had gone on for some time, with the air -of a man who has had enough of trifling, and must now apply himself to -matters of graver importance, he arose, hung up his guitar, sent his -chair, which was upon casters, rolling to the far end of the room, and -proceeded to arrange the curls of one of the two magnificent perukes, -on which it was his privilege to operate. After having applied himself -with uncommon attention to this labour of taste for some time in -silence, he retired a few paces to contemplate the effect of his -performance--whereupon he fell into a musing mood, and began after his -fashion to soliloquize with a good deal of energy and volubility in -that dialect which had become more easy to him than his mother tongue. - -"_Corpo di Bacco!_ what thing is life! who would believe thirty years -ago I should be here now in a barbaroose island to curl the wig of an -old gouty blackguard--but what matter. I am a philosopher--damnation--it -is very well as it is--per Bacco! I can go way when I like. I am reech -leetle fellow, and with Sir Richard, good Sir Richard, I do always -whatever I may choose. Good Sir Richard," he continued, addressing the -block on which hung the object of his tasteful labours, as if it had -been the baronet in person--"good Sir Richard, why are you so kind to -me, when you are so cross as the old devil in hell with all the rest -of the world?--why, why, why? Shall I say to you the reason, good, -kind Sir Richard? Well, I weel. It is because you dare not--dare -not--dare not-da-a-a-are not vaix me. I am, you know, dear Sir -Richard, a poor, leetle foreigner, who is depending on your goodness. -I 'ave nothing but your great pity and good charity--oh, no! I am -nothing at all; but still you dare not vaix me--you moste not be -angry--note at all--but very quiet--you moste not go in a passion--oh! -never--weeth me--even if I was to make game of you, and to insult you, -and to pool your nose." - -Here the Italian seized, with the tongs which he had in his hand, upon -that prominence in the wooden block which corresponded in position with -the nose, which at other times the peruke overshadowed, and with a grin -of infinite glee pinched and twisted the iron instrument until the -requirements of his dramatic fancy were satisfied, when he delivered -two or three sharp knocks on the smooth face of the block, and resumed -his address. - -"No, no--you moste not be angry, fore it would be great misfortune--oh, -it would--if you and I should quarrel together; but tell me now, old -_truffatore_--tell me, I say, am I not very quiet, good-nature, -merciful, peetying faylow? Ah, yees--very, very--_Madre di Dio_--very -moche; and dear, good Sir Richard, shall I tell you why I am so very -good-nature? It is because I love you joste as moche as you love me--it -is because, most charitable patron, it is my convenience to go on weeth -you quietly and 'av no fighting yet--bote you are going to get money. -Oh! so coning you are, you think I know nothing--you think I am -asleep--bote I know it--I know it quite well. You think I know nothing -about the land you take from Miss Mary. Ah! you are very coning--oh! -very; but I 'av hear it all, and I tell you--and I swear _per sangue di -D----_, when you get that money I shall, and will, and moste--_mo-ooste_ -'av a very large, comfortable, beeg handful--do you hear me? Oh, you -very coning old rascal; and if you weel not geeve it, oh, my dear Sir -Richard, echellent master, I am so moche afaid we will 'av a fight -between us--a quarrel--that will spoil our love and friendship, and -maybe, helas! horte your reputation--shoking--make the gentlemen spit -on you, and avoid you, and call you all the ogly names--oh! shoking." - -Here he was interrupted by a loud ringing in Sir Richard's chamber. - -"There he is to pool his leetle bell--damnation, what noise. I weel go -up joste now--time enough, dear, good, patient Sir Richard--time -enough--oh, plainty, plainty." - -The little man then leisurely fumbled in his pocket until he brought -forth a bunch of keys, from which, having selected one, he applied it -to the lock of the little press which we have already mentioned, whence -he deliberately produced one of the flasks which we have hinted at, -along with a tall glass with a spiral stem, and filling himself a -bumper of the liquor therein contained, he coolly sipped it to the -bottom, accompanied throughout the performance by the incessant -tinkling of Sir Richard's hand-bell. - -"Ah, very good, most echellent--thank you, Sir Richard, you 'av give me -so moche time and so moche music, I 'av drunk your very good health." - -So saying, he locked up the flask and glass again, and taking the block -which had just represented Sir Richard in the imaginary colloquy in his -hand, he left his own chamber, and ran upstairs to the baronet's -dressing-room. He found his master alone. - -"Ah, Jacopo," exclaimed the baronet, looking somewhat flushed, but -speaking, nevertheless, in a dulcet tone enough, "I have been ringing -for nearly ten minutes; but I suppose you did not hear me." - -"Joste so as you 'av say," replied the man. "Your _signoria_ is very -seldom wrong. I was so charmed with my work I could not hear nothing." - -"Parucci," rejoined Sir Richard, after a slight pause, "you know I keep -no secrets from you." - -"Ah, you flatter me, Signor--you flatter me--indeed you do," said the -valet, with ironical humility. - -His master well understood the tone in which the fellow spoke, but did -not care to notice it. - -"The fact is, Jacopo," continued Sir Richard, "you already know so many -of my secrets, that I have now no motive in excluding you from any." - -"Goode, kind--oh, very kind," ejaculated the valet. - -"In short," continued his master, who felt a little uneasy under the -praises of his attendant--"in short, to speak plainly, I want your -assistance. I know your talents well. You can imitate any handwriting -you please to copy with perfect accuracy. You must copy, in the -handwriting of this manuscript, the draft of a letter which I will hand -you this evening. You require some little time to study the character; -so take the letter with you, and be in my room at ten to-night. I will -then hand you the draft of what I want written. You understand?" - -"Understand! To be sure--most certilly I weel do it," replied the -Italian, "so that the great devil himself will not tell the writing of -the two, _l'un dall' altro_, one from the other. Never fear--geeve me -the letter. I must learn the writing. I weel be here to-night before -you are arrive, and I weel do it very fast, and so like--bote you know -how well I can copy. Ah! yees; you know it, Signor. I need not tell." - -"No more at present," said the baronet, with a gesture of caution. -"Assist me to dress." - -The Italian accordingly was soon deep in the mysteries of his elaborate -functions, where we shall leave him and his master for the present. - - - - -CHAPTER XVII. - -DUBLIN CASTLE BY NIGHT--THE DRAWING-ROOM--LORD WHARTON AND HIS COURT. - - -Sir Richard Ashwoode had set his heart upon having Lord Aspenly for his -son-in-law; and all things considered, his lordship was, perhaps, -according to the standard by which the baronet measured merit, as good -a son-in-law as he had any right to hope for. It was true, Lord Aspenly -was neither very young nor very beautiful. Spite of all the ingenious -arts by which he reinforced his declining graces, it was clear as the -light that his lordship was not very far from seventy; and it was just -as apparent that it was not to any extraordinary supply of bone, -muscle, or flesh that his vitality was attributable. His lordship was a -little, spindle-shanked gentleman, with the complexion of a consumptive -frog, and features as sharp as edged tools. He condescended to borrow -from the artistic talents of his valet the exquisite pencilling of his -eyebrows, as well as the fine black line which gave effect to a set of -imaginary eyelashes, and depth and brilliancy to a pair of eyes which, -although naturally not very singularly effective, had, nevertheless, -nearly as much vivacity in them as they had ever had. His smiles were -perennial and unceasing, very winning and rather ghastly. He used much -gesticulation, and his shrug was absolutely Parisian. To all these -perfections he added a wonderful facility in rounding the periods of a -compliment, and an inexhaustible affluence of something which passed -for conversation. Thus endowed, and having, moreover, the additional -recommendation of a handsome income, a peerage, and an unencumbered -celibacy, it is hardly wonderful that his lordship was unanimously -voted by all prudent and discriminating persons, without exception, the -most fascinating man in all Ireland. Sir Richard Ashwoode was not one -whit more in earnest in desiring the match than was Lord Aspenly -himself. His lordship had for some time begun to suspect that he had -nearly sown his wild oats--that it was time for him to reform--that he -was ripe for the domestic virtues, and ought to renounce scamp-hood. He -therefore, in the laboratory of his secret soul, compounded a virtuous -passion, which he resolved to expend upon the first eligible object who -might present herself. Mary Ashwoode was the fortunate damsel who first -happened to come within the scope and range of his lordship's -premeditated love; and he forthwith in a matrimonial paroxysm applied, -according to the good old custom, not to the lady herself, but to Sir -Richard Ashwoode, and was received with open arms. - -The baronet indeed, as the reader is aware, anticipated many -difficulties in bringing the match about; for he well knew how deeply -his daughter's heart was engaged, and his misgivings were more sombre -and frequent than he cared to acknowledge even to himself. He resolved, -however, that the thing should be; and he was convinced, that if his -lordship only were firm, spite of fate he would effect it. In order -then to inspire Lord Aspenly with this desirable firmness, he not -unwisely believed that his best course was to exhibit him as much as -possible in public places, in the character of the avowed lover of Mary -Ashwoode; a position which, when once unequivocally assumed, afforded -no creditable retreat, except through the gates of matrimony. It was -arranged, therefore, that the young lady, under the protection of Lady -Stukely, and accompanied by Lord Aspenly and Henry Ashwoode, should -attend the first drawing-room at the Castle, a ceremonial which had -been fixed to take place a few days subsequently to the arrival of Lord -Aspenly at Morley Court. Those who have seen the Castle of Dublin only -as it now stands, have beheld but the creation of the last sixty or -seventy years, with the exception only of the wardrobe tower, an old -grey cylinder of masonry, very dingy and dirty, which appears to have -gone into half mourning for its departed companions, and presents -something of the imposing character of an overgrown, mouldy band-box. -At the beginning of the last century, however, matters were very -different. The trim brick buildings, with their spacious windows and -symmetrical regularity of structure, which now complete the quadrangles -of the castle, had not yet appeared; but in their stead masses of -building, constructed with very little attention to architectural -precision, either in their individual formation or in their relative -position, stood ranged together, so as to form two irregular and gloomy -squares. That portion of the building which was set apart for state -occasions and the vice-regal residence, had undergone so many repairs -and modifications, that very little if any of it could have been -recognized by its original builder. Not so, however, with other -portions of the pile: the ponderous old towers, which have since -disappeared, with their narrow loop-holes and iron-studded doors -looming darkly over the less massive fabrics of the place with stern -and gloomy aspect, reminded the passer every moment, that the building -whose courts he trod was not merely the theatre of stately ceremonies, -but a fortress and a prison. - -The viceroyalty of the Earl of Wharton was within a few weeks of its -abrupt termination; the approaching discomfiture of the Whigs was not, -however, sufficiently clearly revealed, to thin the levees and -drawing-rooms of the Whig lord-lieutenant. The castle yards were, -therefore, upon the occasion in question, crowded to excess with the -gorgeous equipages in which the Irish aristocracy of the time -delighted. The night had closed in unusual darkness, and the massive -buildings, whose summits were buried in dense and black obscurity, were -lighted only by the red reflected glow of crowded flambeaux and -links--which, as the respective footmen, who attended the crowding -chairs and coaches flourished them according to the approved fashion, -scattered their wide showers of sparks into the eddying air, and -illumined in a broad and ruddy glare, like that of a bonfire, the -gorgeous equipages with which the square was now thronged, and the -splendid figures which they successively discharged. There were -coaches-and-four--out-riders--running footmen and hanging -footmen--crushing and rushing--jostling and swearing--and burly -coachmen, with inflamed visages, lashing one another's horses and their -own. Lackeys collaring and throttling one another, all "for their -master's honour," in the hot and disorderly dispute for precedence, and -some even threatening an appeal to the swords--which, according to the -barbarous fashion of the day, they carried, to the no small peril of -the public and themselves. Others dragging the reins of strangers' -horses, and backing them to make way for their own--a proceeding which, -of course, involved no small expenditure of blasphemy and vociferation. -On the whole, it would not be easy to exaggerate the scene of riot and -confusion which, under the very eye of the civil and military executive -of the country, was perpetually recurring, and that, too, ostensibly in -honour of the supreme head of the Irish Government. - -Through all this crash, and clatter, and brawling, and vociferation, -the party whom we are bound to follow made their way with some -difficulty and considerable delay. - -The Earl of Wharton with his countess, surrounded by a brilliant staff, -and amid all the pomp and state of vice-regal dignity, received the -distinguished courtiers who thronged the castle chambers. At the time -of which we write, Lord Wharton was in his seventieth year. Few, -however, would have guessed his age at more than sixty, though many -might have supposed it under that. He was rather a spare figure, with -an erect and dignified bearing, and a countenance which combined -vivacity, good-humour, and boldness in an eminent degree. His manners -were, to those who did not know how unreal was everything in them that -bore the promise of good, singularly engaging, and that in spite of a -very strong spice of coarseness, and a very determined addiction to -profane swearing. He had, however, in his whole air and address a kind -of rollicking, good-humoured familiarity, which was very generally -mistaken for the quintessence of candour and good-fellowship, and which -consequently rendered him unboundedly popular among those who were not -aware of the fact that his complimentary speeches meant just nothing, -and were very often followed, the moment the object of them had -withdrawn, by the coarsest ridicule, and even by the grossest abuse. -For the rest, he was undoubtedly an able statesman, and had clearly -discerned and adroitly steered his way through the straits and perils -of troublous and eventful times. He was, moreover, a steady and -uncompromising Whig, upon whom, throughout a long and active life, the -stain of inconsistency had never rested; a thorough partisan, a quick -and ready debater, and an unscrupulous and daring political intriguer. -In private, however, entirely profligate--a sensualist and an infidel, -and in both characters equally without shame. - -Through the rooms there wandered a very wild, madcap boy of some ten or -eleven years, venting his turbulent spirits in all kinds of mischievous -pranks--sometimes planting himself behind Lord Wharton, and mimicking, -with ludicrous exaggeration, which the courtly spectators had enough to -do to resist, the ceremonious gestures and gracious nods of the -viceroy; at other times assuming a staid and manly carriage, and -chatting with his elders with the air of perfect equality, and upon -subjects which one would have thought immeasurably beyond his years, -and this with a sound sense, suavity, and precision which would have -done honour to many grey heads in the room. This strange, bold, -precocious boy of eleven was Philip, afterwards Duke of Wharton, the -wonder and the disgrace of the British peerage. - -"Ah! Mr. Morris," exclaimed his excellency, as a middle-aged gentleman, -with a fluttered air, a round face, and vacant smile, approached, "I am -delighted to see you--by ---- Almighty I am--give me your hand. I have -written across about the matter we wot of: but for these cursed -contrary winds, I make no doubt I should have had a letter before now. -Is the young gentleman himself here?" - -"A--a--not quite, your excellency. That is, not at--all," stammered the -gentleman, in mingled delight and alarm. "He is, my lord, a--a--laid -up. He--a--it is a sore throat. Your excellency is most gracious." - -"Tell him from me," rejoined Wharton, "that he must get well as quickly -as may be. We don't know the moment he may be wanted. You understand -me?" - -"I--a--do indeed," replied Mr. Morris, retiring in graceful confusion. - -"A d----d impudent booby," whispered Wharton to Addison, who stood -beside him, uttering the remark without the change of a single muscle. -"He has made some cursed unconscionable request about his son. I'gad, I -forget what; but we want his vote on Tuesday; and civility, you know, -costs no coin." - -Addison smiled faintly, and shook his head. - -"May the Lord pardon us all," exclaimed a country clergyman in a rusty -gown and ill-dressed wig, with a pale, attenuated, eager face, which -told mournful tales of short commons and hard work; he had been for -some time an intense and a grieved listener to the lord-lieutenant's -conversation, and was now slowly retiring with a companion as humble as -himself from the circle which surrounded his excellency, with simple -horror impressed upon his pale features--"may the Lord preserve us all, -how awful it is to hear one so highly trusted by _Him_, take His name -thus momentarily in vain. Lord Wharton is, I fear me much, an habitual -profane swearer." - -"Believe me, sir, you are very simple," rejoined a young clergyman who -stood close to the position which the speaker now occupied. "His -excellency's object in swearing by the different persons of the Trinity -is to show that he believes in revealed religion--a fact which else -were doubtful; and this being his main object, it is manifestly a -secondary consideration to what particular asseveration or promises his -excellency happens to tack his oaths." - -The lank, pale-faced prebendary looked suddenly and earnestly round -upon the person who had accosted him, with an expression of curiosity -and wonder, evidently in some doubt as to the spirit in which the -observation had been made. He beheld a tall, stalwart man, arrayed in a -clerical costume as rich as that of a churchman who has not attained to -the rank of a dignitary in his profession could well be, and in all -points equipped with the most perfect neatness. In the face he looked -in vain for any indication of jocularity. It was a striking -countenance--striking for the extreme severity of its expression, and -for its stern and handsome outline. The eye which encountered the -inquiring glance of the elder man was of the clearest blue, singularly -penetrating and commanding--the eyebrow dark and shaggy--the lips full -and finely formed, but in their habitual expression bearing a character -of haughty and indomitable determination--the complexion of the face -was dark; and as the country prebendary gazed upon the countenance, -full, as it seemed, of a scornful, stern, merciless energy and -decision, something told him, that he looked upon one born to lead and -to command the people. All this he took in at a glance: and while he -looked, Addison, who had detached himself from the vice-regal coterie, -laid his hand upon the shoulder of the stern-featured young clergyman. - -"Swift," said he, drawing him aside, "we see you too seldom here. His -excellency begins to think and to hope you have reconsidered what I -spoke about when last we met. Believe me, you wrong yourself in not -rendering what service you can to men who are not ungrateful, and who -have the power to reward. You were always a Whig, and a pamphlet were -with you but the work of a few days." - -"Were I to write a pamphlet," rejoined Swift, "it is odds his -excellency would not like it." - -"Have you not always been a Whig?" urged Addison. - -"Sir, I am not to be taken by nicknames," rejoined Swift. "I know -Godolphin, and I know Lord Wharton. I have long distrusted the -government of each. I am no courtier, Mr. Secretary. What I suspect I -will not seem to trust--what I hate I hate entirely, and renounce -openly. I have heard of my Lord Wharton's doing, too. When I refused -before to understand your overtures to me to write a pamphlet for his -friends, he was pleased to say I refused because he would not make me -his chaplain--in saying which he knowingly and malignantly lied; and to -this lie he, after his accustomed fashion, tacked a blasphemous oath. -He is therefore a perjured liar. I renounce him as heartily as I -renounce the devil. I am come here, Mr. Secretary, not to do reverence -to Lord Wharton--God forbid!--but to offer my homage to the majesty of -England, whose brightness is reflected even in that cracked and -battered piece of pinchbeck yonder. Believe me, should his excellency -be rash enough to engage me in talk to-night, I shall take care to let -him know what opinion I have of him." - -"Come, come, you must not be so dogged," rejoined Addison. "You know -Lord Wharton's ways. He says a good deal more than he cares to be -believed--everybody knows _that_--and all take his lordship's -asseverations with a grain of allowance; besides, you ought to consider -that when a man unused to contradiction is crossed by disappointment, -he is apt to be choleric, and to forget his discretion. We all know his -faults; but even you will not deny his merits." - -Thus speaking, he led Swift toward the vice-regal circle, which they -had no sooner reached than Wharton, with his most good-humoured smile, -advanced to meet the young clergyman, exclaiming,-- - -"Swift! so it is, by ----! I am glad to see you--by ---- I am." - -"I am glad, my lord," replied Swift, gravely, "that you take such -frequent occasion to remind this godless company of the presence of the -Almighty." - -"Well, you know," rejoined Wharton, good-humouredly, "the Scripture -saith that the righteous man sweareth to his neighbour." - -"And _disappointeth_ him not," rejoined Swift. - -"And disappointeth him not," repeated Wharton; "and by ----," continued -he, with marked earnestness, and drawing the young politician aside as -he spoke, "in whatsoever I swear to thee there shall be no -disappointment." - -He paused, but Swift remained silent. The lord-lieutenant well knew -that an English preferment was the nearest object of the young -churchman's ambition. He therefore continued,-- - -"On my soul, we want you in England--this is no stage for you. By ---- -you cannot hope to serve either yourself or your friends in this -place." - -"Very few thrive here but scoundrels, my lord," rejoined Swift. - -"Even so," replied Wharton, with perfect equanimity--"it is a nation of -scoundrels--dissent on the one side and popery on the other. The upper -order harpies, and the lower a mere prey--and all equally liars, -rogues, rebels, slaves, and robbers. By ---- some fine day the devil -will carry off the island bodily. For very safety you must get out of -it. By ---- he'll have it." - -"I am not enough in the devil's confidence to speak of his designs with -so much authority as your lordship," rejoined Swift; "but I incline to -think that under your excellency's administration it will answer his -end as well to leave the island where it is." - -"Ah! Swift, you are a wag," rejoined the viceroy; "but by ---- I honour -and respect your spirit. I know we shall agree yet--by ---- I know it. -I respect your independence and honesty all the more that they are -seldom met with in a presence-chamber. By ---- I respect and love you -more and more every day." - -"If your lordship will forego your professions of love, and graciously -confine yourself to the backbiting which must follow, you will do for -me to the full as much as I either expect or desire," rejoined Swift, -with a grave reverence. - -"Well, well," rejoined the viceroy, with the most unruffled -good-humour, "I see, Swift, you are in no mood to play the courtier -just now. Nevertheless, bear in mind what Addison advised you to -attempt; and though we part thus for the present, believe me, I love -you all the better for your honest humour." - -"Farewell, my lord," repeated Swift, abruptly, and with a formal bow he -retired among the common throng. - -"A hungry, ill-conditioned dog," said Wharton, turning to the person -next him, "who, having never a bone to gnaw, whets his teeth on the -shins of the company." - -Having vented this little criticism, the viceroy resumed once more the -formal routine of state hospitality. - -"It is time we were going," suggested Mary Ashwoode to Emily Copland. -"My lord," she continued, turning to Lord Aspenly, whose attentions had -been just as conspicuous and incessant as Sir Richard Ashwoode could -have wished them, "Do you know where Lady Stukely is?" - -Lord Aspenly professed his ignorance. - -"Have _you_ seen her ladyship?" inquired Emily Copland of the gallant -Major O'Leary, who stood near her. - -"Upon my conscience, I have," rejoined the major. "I'm not considered a -poltroon; but I plead guilty to one weakness. I am bothered if I can -stand fire when it appears in the nose of a gentlewoman; so as soon as -I saw her I beat a retreat, and left my valorous young nephew to stand -or fall under the blaze of her artillery. She is at the far end of the -room." - -The major was easily persuaded to undertake the mission, and a word to -young Ashwoode settled the matter. The party accordingly left the -rooms, having, however, previously to their doing so, arranged that -Major O'Leary should pass the next day at Morley Court, and afterwards -accompany them in the evening to the theatre, whither Sir Richard, in -pursuance of his plans, had arranged that they should all repair. - - - - -CHAPTER XVIII. - - -THE TWO COUSINS--THE NEGLECTED JEWELS AND THE BROKEN SEAL. - -It was drawing toward evening when Emily Copland, in high spirits, and -richly and becomingly dressed, ran lightly to the door of her cousin's -chamber. She knocked, but no answer was returned. She knocked again, -but still without any reply. Then opening the door, she entered the -room, and beheld her cousin Mary seated at a small work-table, at which -it was her wont to read. There she lay motionless--her small head -leaned upon her graceful arms, over which flowed all negligently the -dark luxuriant hair. An open letter was on the table before her, and -two or three rich ornaments lay unheeded on the floor beside her, as if -they had fallen from her hand. There was in her attitude such a -passionate abandonment of grief, that she seemed the breathing image of -despair. Spite of all her levity, the young lady was touched at the -sight. She approached her gently, and laying her hand upon her -shoulder, she stooped down and kissed her. - -"Mary, dear Mary, what grieves you?" she said. "Tell me. It's I, -dear--your cousin Emily. There's a good girl--what has happened to vex -you?" - -Mary raised her head, and looked in her cousin's face. Her eye was -wild--she was pale as marble, and in her beautiful face was an -expression so utterly woeful and piteous, that Emily was almost moved. - -"Oh! I have lost him--for ever and ever I have lost him," said she, -despairingly. "Oh! cousin, dear cousin, he is gone from me. God pity -me--I am forsaken." - -"Nay, cousin, do not say so--be cheerful--it cannot be--there, there," -and Emily Copland kissed the poor girl's pale lips. - -"Forsaken--forsaken," continued Mary, for she heard not and heeded not -the voice of vain consolation. "He has thrown me off for ever--for -ever--quite--quite. God pity me, where shall I look for hope?" - -"Mary, dear Mary," said her cousin, "you are ill--do not give way thus. -Be assured it is not as you think. You must be in error." - -"In error! Oh! that I could think so. God knows how gladly I would give -my poor life to think so. No, no--it is real--all real. Oh! cousin, he -has forsaken me." - -"I cannot believe it--I _can_ not," said Emily Copland. "Such folly can -hardly exist. I will not believe it. What reason have you for thinking -him changed?" - -"Read--oh, read it, cousin," replied the girl, motioning toward the -letter, which lay open on the table--"read it once, and you will not -bid me hope any more. Oh! cousin, dear cousin, there is no more joy for -me in this world, turn where I will, do what I may--I am heart-broken." - -Emily Copland glanced through the letter, shook her head, and dropped -the note again where it had been lying. - -"You know, cousin Emily, how I loved him," continued Mary, while for -the first time the tears flowed fast--"you know that day after day, -among all that happened to grieve me, my heart found rest in his -love--in the hope and trust that he would never grow cold; -and--and--oh! God pity me--_now_ where is it all? You see--you know his -love is gone from me--for evermore--gone from me. Oh! how I used to -count the days and hours till the time would come round when I could -see him and speak to him--but this has all gone. Hereafter all days are -to be the same--morning or evening, summer time or winter--no change of -seasons or of hours can bring to me any more hope or gladness, but ever -the same--sorrow and desolate loneliness--for oh! cousin, I am very -desolate, and hopeless, and heart-broken." - -The poor girl threw her arms round her cousin's neck, and sobbed and -wept, and wept and sobbed again, as though her heart would break. Long -and bitterly she wept upon her cousin's neck in silence, unbroken, -except by her sobs. After a time, however, Emily Copland exclaimed,-- - -"Well, Mary, to say the truth, I never much liked the matter; and as he -is a fool, and an _ungrateful_ fool to boot, I am not sorry that he has -shown his character as he has done. Believe me, painful as such -discoveries are when made thus early, they are incomparably more -agonizing when made too late. A little--a very little--time will enable -you quite to forget him." - -"No, cousin," replied Mary--"no, I never will forget him. He is changed -indeed--greatly changed from what he was--bitterly has he disappointed -and betrayed me; but I cannot forget him. There shall indeed never more -pass word or look between us; he shall be to me as one that is dead, -whom I shall hear and see no more; but the memory of what he was--the -memory of what I vainly thought him--shall remain with me while my poor -heart beats." - -"Well, Mary, time will show," said Emily. - -"Yes, time will show--time will show," replied she, mournfully; "be the -time long or short, it will show." - -"You _must_ forget him--you _will_ forget him; a few weeks, and you -will thank your stars you found him out so soon." - -"Ah, cousin," replied Mary, "you do not know how all my thoughts, and -hopes, and recollections--everything I liked to remember, and to look -forward to; you cannot know how all that was happy in my life--but what -boots it, I will keep my troth with him; I will love no other, and wed -with no other; and while this sorrowful life remains I will -never--never--forget him." - -"I can only say, that were the case my own," rejoined Emily, "I would -show the fellow how lightly I held him and his worthless heart, and -marry within a month; but every one has her own way of doing things. -Remember it is nearly time to start for the theatre; the coach will be -at the door in half-an-hour. Surely you will come; it would seem so -very strange were you to change your mind thus suddenly; and you may be -very sure that, by some means or other, the impudent fellow--about -whom, I cannot see why, you care so much--would hear of all your -grieving, and pining, and love-sickness. Pah! I'd rather die than -please the hollow, worthless creature by letting him think he had -caused me a moment's uneasiness; and then, above all, Sir Richard would -be so outrageously angry--why, you would never hear the end of it. -Come, come, be a good girl. After all, it is only holding up your head, -and looking pretty, which you can't help, for an hour or two. You must -come to silence gossip abroad, as well as for the sake of peace at -home--you _must_ come." - -"I would fain stay here at home," said the poor girl; "heart and head -are sick: but if you think my father would be angry with me for staying -at home, I will go. It is indeed, as you say, a small matter to me -where I pass an hour or two; all times, all places--crowds or -solitudes--are henceforward indifferent to me. What care I where they -bring me! Cousin Emily, I will do whatever you think best." - -The poor girl spoke with a voice and look of such utter wretchedness, -that even her light-hearted, worldly, selfish cousin was touched with -pity. - -"Come, then; I will assist you," said she, kissing the pale cheek of -the heart-stricken girl. "Come, Mary, cheer up, you must call up your -good looks it would never do to be seen thus." And so talking on, she -assisted her to dress. - -Gaily and richly arrayed in the gorgeous and by no means unbecoming -style of the times, and sparkling with brilliant jewels, poor Mary -Ashwoode--a changed and stricken creature, scarcely conscious of what -was going on around her--took her place in her father's carriage, and -was borne rapidly toward the theatre. - -The party consisted of the two young ladies, who were respectively -under the protection of Lord Aspenly, who sate beside Mary Ashwoode, -happily too much pleased with his own voluble frivolity to require -anything more from her than her appearing to hear it, and young -Ashwoode, who chatted gaily with his pretty cousin. - -"What has become of my venerable true-love, Major O'Leary?" inquired -Miss Copland. - -"He will follow on horseback," replied Ashwoode. "I beheld him, as I -passed downstairs, admiring himself before the looking-glass in his new -regimentals. He designs tremendous havoc to-night. His coat is a -perfect phenomenon--the investment of a year's pay at least--with more -gold about it than I thought the country could afford, and scarlet -enough to make a whole wardrobe for the lady of Babylon--a coat which, -if left to itself, would storm the hearts of nine girls out of ten, and -which, even with an officer in it, will enthral half the sex." - -"And here comes the coat itself," exclaimed the young lady, as the -major rode up to the coach-window--"I'm half in love with it myself -already." - -"Ladies, your devoted slave: gentlemen, your most obedient," said the -major, raising his three-cornered hat. "I hope to see you before -half-an-hour, under circumstances more favourable to conversation. Miss -Copland, depend upon it, with your permission, I'll pay my homage to -you before half-an-hour, the more especially as I have a scandalous -story to tell you. Meanwhile, I wish you all a safe journey, and a -pleasant one." So saying, the major rode on, at a brisk pace, to the -"Cock and Anchor," there intending to put up his horse, and to exchange -a few words with young O'Connor. - -In the meantime the huge old coach, which contained the rest of the -party, jolted and rumbled on, until at length, amid the confusion and -clatter of crowded vehicles, restive horses, and vociferous coachmen, -with all their accompaniments of swearing and whipping, the clank of -scrambling hoofs, the bumping and hustling of carriages, and the -desperate rushing of chairmen, bolting this way or that, with their -living loads of foppery and fashion--the coach-door was thrown open at -the box-entrance of the Theatre Royal, in Smock Alley. - - - - -CHAPTER XIX. - -THE THEATRE--THE RUFFIAN--THE ASSAULT, AND THE RENCONTRE. - - -Major O'Leary had hardly dismounted in the quadrangle of the "Cock and -Anchor," when O'Connor rode slowly into the inn-yard. - -"How are you, my dear fellow?" exclaimed the man of scarlet and gold; -"I was just asking where you were. Come down off that beast, I want to -have a word in your ear--a bit of news--some fun. Descend, I say, -descend." - -O'Connor accordingly dismounted. - -"Now then--a hearty shake--so. I have great news, and only a minute to -tell it. Jack, run like a shot, and get me a chair. Here, Tim, take a -napkin and an oyster-knife, and do not leave a bit of mud, or the sign -of it, upon my back: take a general survey of the coat and breeches, -and a particular review of the wig. And, Jem, do you give my boots a -harum-scarum shot of a superficial scrub, and touch up the hat--gently, -do you mind--and take care of the lace. So while the fellows are -finishing my toilet, I may as well tell you my morsel of news. Do you -know who is to be at the playhouse to-night?" - -O'Connor expressed his ignorance. - -"Well, then, I'll tell you, and make what use you like of it," resumed -the major. "Miss Mary Ashwoode! There's for you. Take my advice, get -into a decent coat and breeches, and run down to the theatre--it is not -five minutes' walk from this; you'll easily find us, and I'll take care -to make room for you. Why, you do not seem half pleased: what more can -you wish for, unless you expect the girl to put up for the evening at -the "Cock and Anchor"? Rouse yourself. If you feel modest, there is -nothing like a pint or two of Madeira: don't try brandy--it's the -father and mother of all sorts of indiscretions. Now, mind, you have -the hint; it is an opportunity you ought to improve. By the powers, if -I was in your place--but no matter. You may not have an opportunity of -seeing her again these six months; and unless I'm completely mistaken, -you are as much in love with the girl as I am with--several that shall -be nameless. Heigho! next after Burgundy, and the cock-pit, and the -fox-hounds, and two or three more frailties of the kind, there is -nothing in the world I prefer to flirtation, without much minding -whether I'm the principal or the second in the affair. But here comes -the vehicle." - -Accordingly, without waiting to say any more, the major took his seat -in the chair, and was borne by the lusty chairmen, at a swinging pace, -through the narrow streets, and, without let or accident, safely -deposited within the principal entrance of the theatre. - -The theatre of Smock Alley (or, as it was then called, Orange Street) -was not quite what theatres are nowadays. It was a large building of -the kind, as theatres were then rated, and contained three galleries, -one above the other, supported by heavy wooden caryatides, and richly -gilded and painted. The curtain, instead of rising and falling, opened, -according to the old fashion, in the middle, and was drawn sideways -apart, disclosing no triumphs of illusive colouring and perspective, -but a succession of plain tapestry-covered screens, which, from early -habit, the audience accommodatingly accepted for town or country, dry -land or sea, or, in short, for any locality whatsoever, according to -the manager's good will and pleasure. This docility and good faith on -the part of the audience were, perhaps, the more praiseworthy, inasmuch -as a very considerable number of the aristocratic spectators actually -sate in long lines down either side of the stage--a circumstance -involving, by the continuous presence of the same perukes, and the same -embroidered waistcoats, the same set of countenances, and the same set -of legs, in every variety of clime and situation through which the -wayward invention of the playwright hurried his action, a very severe -additional tax upon the imaginative faculties of the audience. But -perhaps the most striking peculiarities of the place were exhibited in -the grim persons of two _bonâ fide_ sentries, in genuine cocked hats -and scarlet coats, with their enormous muskets shouldered, and the -ball-cartridges dangling in ostentatious rows from their bandoleers, -planted at the front, and facing the audience, one at each side of the -stage--a vivid evidence of the stern vicissitudes and insecurity of the -times. For the rest, the audience of those days, in the brilliant -colours, and glittering lace, and profuse ornament, which the gorgeous -fashion of the time allowed, presented a spectacle of rich and dazzling -magnificence, such as no modern assembly of the kind can even faintly -approach. - -The major had hardly made his way to the box where his party were -seated, when his attention was caught by an object which had for him -all but irresistible attractions: this was the buxom person of Mistress -Jannet Rumble, a plump, good-looking, young widow of five-and-forty, -with a jolly smile, a hearty laugh, and a killing acquaintance with the -language of the eyes. These perfections--for of course her jointure, -which, by the way, was very considerable, could have had nothing to do -with it--were too much for Major O'Leary. He met the widow -accidentally, made a few careless inquiries about her finances, and -fell over head and ears in love with her upon the shortest possible -notice. Our friend had, therefore, hardly caught a glimpse of her, when -Miss Copland, beside whom he was seated, observed that he became -unusually meditative, and at length, after two or three attempts to -enter again into conversation--all resulting in total and incoherent -failure, the major made some blundering excuse, took his departure, and -in a moment had planted himself beside the fascinating Mistress -Rumble--where we shall allow him the protection of a generous -concealment, and suffer him to read the lady's eyes, and insinuate his -soft nonsense, without intruding for a moment upon the sanctity of -lovers' mutual confidences. - -Emily Copland having watched and enjoyed the manoeuvres of her military -friend till she was fairly tired of the amusement, and having in vain -sought to engage Henry Ashwoode, who was unusually moody and absent, in -conversation, at length, as a last desperate resource, turned her -attention to what was passing upon the stage. - -While all this was going forward, young Ashwoode was a good deal -disconcerted at observing among the crowd in the pit a personage with -whom, in the vicious haunts which he frequented, he had made a sort of -ambiguous acquaintance. The man was a bulky, broad-shouldered, -ill-looking fellow, with a large, vulgar, red face, and a coarse, -sensual mouth, whose blue, swollen lips indicated habitual -intemperance, and the nauseous ugliness of which was further enhanced -by the loss of two front teeth, probably by some violent agency, as was -testified by a deep scar across the mouth; the eyes of the man carried -that uncertain expression, half of shame and half of defiance, which -belongs to the coward, bully, and ruffian. The blackness of -habitually-indulged and ferocious passion was upon his countenance; and -the revolting character of the face was the more unequivocally marked -by a sort of smile, or rather sneer, which had in it neither -intellectuality nor gladness--an odious libel on the human smile, with -nothing but brute insolence and scorn, and a sardonic glee in its -baleful light--a smile from which every human sympathy recoiled abashed -and affrighted. Let not the reader imagine that the man and the -character are but the dreams of fiction; the wretch, whose outward -seeming we have imperfectly sketched, lived and moved in the scenes -where we have fixed our narrative--there grew rich--there rioted in the -indulgence of every passion which hell can inspire or to which wealth -can pander--there ministered to his insatiate avarice, by the -destruction and beggary of thousands of the young and thoughtless--and -there at length, in the fulness of his time, died--in the midst of -splendour and infamy: with malignant and triumphant perseverance having -persisted to his latest hour in the prosecution of his Satanic mission; -luring the unwary into the toils of crime and inextricable madness, and -thence into the pit of temporal and eternal ruin. This man, Nicholas -Blarden, Esquire, was the proprietor of one of those places where -fortunes are squandered, time sunk, habits, temper, character, morals, -all, corrupted, blasted, destroyed--one of those places which are set -apart as the especial temples of avarice, in which, year after year, -are for ever recurring the same perennial scenes of mad excess, of -calculating, merciless fraud, of bleak, brain-stricken despair--places -to which has been assigned, in a spirit of fearful truth, the -appellative of "hell." - -The man whom we have mentioned, it had never been young Ashwoode's -misfortune to meet, except in those scenes where his acquaintance was -useful, without being actually discreditable; for it was the fellow's -habit, with the instinctive caution which marks such gentlemen, to -court public observation as little as possible, and to skulk -systematically from the eye of popular scrutiny--seldom embarrassing -his aristocratic acquaintances by claiming the privilege of recognition -at unseasonable times; and confining himself, for the most part, -exclusively to his own coterie. Independently of his unpleasant natural -peculiarities there were other circumstances which tended to make him a -conspicuous object in the crowd--the fellow was extravagantly -over-dressed, and had planted himself in a standing posture upon a -bench, and from this elevated position was, with steady effrontery, -gazing into the box in which young Ashwoode's party were seated, -exchanging whispers and horse-laughs with three or four men who looked -scarcely less villainous than himself, and, as soon became apparent, -directing his marked and exclusive attention to Miss Ashwoode, who was -too deeply absorbed in her own sorrowful reflections to heed what was -passing around her. The young man felt his choler mount, as he beheld -the insolent conduct of the fellow--he saw, however, that Blarden was -evidently not perfectly sober, and hesitated what course he should -take. Strongly as he was tempted to spring at once into the pit, and -put an end to the impertinence by caning the fellow within an inch of -his life, he yet felt that a disreputable conflict of the kind had -better be avoided, and could not well be justified except as a last -resource; he, therefore, made up his mind to bear it as long as human -endurance could. - -Whatever hopes he entertained of escaping a collision with this man -were, however, destined to be disappointed. Nicky Blarden (as his -friends endearingly called him), to the great comfort of that part of -the audience in his immediate neighbourhood, at length descended from -his elevated stand, but not to conceal himself among the less obtrusive -spectators. With an insolent swagger the fellow shouldered his way -among the crowd towards the box where the object of his gaze was -seated; and, having planted himself directly beneath it, he stared -impudently up at young Ashwoode, exclaiming at the same time,-- - -"I say, Ashwoode, how does the world wag with you?--why ain't you -rattling the bones this evening? d----n me, you may as well be off, and -let me take care of the dimber mot up there?" - -"Do you speak to _me_, sir?" inquired young Ashwoode, turning almost -livid with passion, and speaking in that subdued tone, and with that -constrained coolness, which precedes some ungovernable outburst of -fury. - -"Why, ---- me, how great we've got all at once--I say, you don't know -me--Eh! don't you?" exclaimed the fellow, with vulgar scorn, at the -same time rather roughly poking Ashwoode's hand with the hilt of his -sword. - -"I shall show you, sir, when your drunken folly has passed away, by -very sore proofs, that I _do_ know you," replied the young man, -clutching his cane with such a grip as threatened to force his fingers -into it--"be assured, sir, I shall know you, and you me, as long as you -have the power to remember." - -"Whieu, d---- it, don't frighten us," said the fellow, looking round -for the approbation of his companions. "I say, d----n it, don't -frighten the people--come, come, no gammon. I say, Ashwoode, you must -introduce me, or present me, or whatever's the word, to your sister up -there--I say you _must_." - -"Quit this part of the house this instant, sir, or nothing shall -prevent me flogging you until I leave not a whole bone in your -body--this warning is the last--profit by it," rejoined Ashwoode, in a -low tone of bitter rage. - -"Oh, ho! it's there you are--is it?" rejoined the fellow, with a wink -at his comrades, "so you're going to beat the people--why, d----n it, -you're enough to make a horse laugh. I say I want to know your sister, -or your miss, or whatever she is, with the black hair up there, and if -you won't introduce me, d----n it, I must only introduce myself." - -So saying, the fellow made a spring and caught the ledge of the front -of the box, with the intention of vaulting into the place. Lord Aspenly -and the young ladies had arisen in some alarm. - -"My lord," said young Ashwoode, "have the goodness to conduct the -ladies to the lobby--I will join you in a moment." - -This direction was promptly obeyed, and at the same moment the young -man caught the fellow, already half into the box, by the neckcloth, -dragged his body across the wooden parapet, and while he struggled -helplessly to disengage himself--half strangled, and without the power -to get either up or down--with his heavy cane, the young -gentleman--every nerve, sinew, and muscle being strung to tenfold power -by fury--inflicted upon his back and ribs a castigation so prolonged -and tremendous, that before it had ended, the scoundrel was perfectly -insensible, in which state Henry Ashwoode flung him down again into the -pit, amid the obstreperous acclamations of all parts of the house--an -uproar of applause in which the spectators in the pit joined with such -hearty enthusiasm, that at length, touched with a kindred heroism, they -turned upon the associates of the fallen champion, and fairly kicked -and cuffed them out of the house. - -This feat accomplished, the young gentleman went down the stairs to the -street-entrance, and, after considerable delay, succeeded, with the -assistance of the footman who had attended him into the house, in -finding out their carriage, and having it brought to the door--not -judging it expedient that the ladies should return to their places, -where they would, of course, be exposed to the gazing curiosity of the -multitude. He found the party in the lobby quite recovered from -whatever was unpleasant in the excitement of the scene, the more -violent part of which they had not witnessed. Lord Aspenly and Emily -Copland were laughing over the adventure; and Mary, flashed and -agitated, was looking better than she had before upon that night. -Taking his cousin under his own protection, and consigning his sister -to that of Lord Aspenly, young Ashwoode led the way to the carriage. As -they passed slowly along the lobby, the quick eye of Mary Ashwoode -discerned a form, at sight of which her heart swelled and throbbed as -though it would burst--the colour fled from her cheeks, and she felt -for a moment on the point of swooning; the pride of her sex, however, -sustained her; the tingling blood again mounted warmly to her cheeks, -her eye brightened, and she listened, with more apparent interest than -perhaps she ever did before, to Lord Aspenly's remarks--the form was -O'Connor's. As she passed him, she returned his salute with a slight -and haughty bow, and saw, and felt the stern, cold, proud expression -which marked his pale and handsome features. In another moment she was -seated in the carriage; the doors were closed, crack went the whip, and -clatter go the iron hoofs on the pavement--but before they had -traversed a hundred yards on their homeward way, poor Mary Ashwoode -sunk back in her place, and fainted away. - - - - -CHAPTER XX. - -THE LODGING--YOUNG MELANCHOLY AND OLD REMEMBRANCES--AN ADVENTURE AMONG -THE YEW HEDGES OF MORLEY COURT. - - -"There is no more doubt--no more hope"--said O'Connor, as, wrapt in his -cloak, he slowly pursued his way homeward--"the worst _is_ true--she is -quite estranged from me--how deceived--how utterly blind I have -been--yet who could have thought it? Light-hearted, vain, worthless--it -is all, all true--my own eyes have seen it. Well, even this must be -borne--borne as best it may, and with a manly spirit. I have been, -indeed, miserably cheated"--he continued, with bitter vehemence--"and -what remains for me? I've been infatuated--a self-flattered fool, and -waken thus to find _all_ lost--but grief avails not--there lie before -me many paths of honourable toil, and many avenues to honourable -death--the ambition of my life is over--henceforth the world has -nothing to offer me. I will leave this, the country of my ill-fated -birth--leave it for ever, and end my days honourably, and God grant -soon, far away from the only one I ever loved--from her who has -betrayed me." - -Such were the thoughts which darkly and vaguely hurried through -O'Connor's mind as he retraced his steps. Before he had arrived, -however, at the "Cock and Anchor," whitherward he had mechanically -directed his course, he bethought himself, and turned in a different -direction towards the house in which his worthy friend, Mr. -Audley--having an inveterate prejudice against all inns, which, without -exception, he averred to be the especial sanctuaries of damp sheets, -bugs, thieves, and rheumatic fevers--had already established himself as -a weekly lodger. - -"Pooh, pooh! you foolish boy," ejaculated the old bachelor, with -considerable energy, in reply to O'Connor's gloomy and passionate -language; "nonsense, sir, and folly, and absurdity--you'll give me the -vapours if you go on this way--what the devil do you want of foreign -service and foreign graves--do you think, booby, it was for that I came -over here--tilly vally, tilly vally--I know as well as you, or any -other jackanapes, what love is. I tell you, sirrah, _I_ have been in -love, and _I_ have been jilted--_jilted_, sir! and when I _was_ jilted, -I thought the jilting itself quite enough, without improving the matter -by getting myself buried, dead or alive." Here the little gentleman -knocked the table recklessly with his knuckles, buried his hands in his -breeches pockets, and rising from his chair, paced the room with an -impressive tread. "Had you ever seen Letty Bodkin you might, indeed, -have known what love is"--he continued, breathing very hard--"Letty -Bodkin jilted me, and I got over it. I did not ask for razors, or -cannon balls, or foreign interment, sir; but I vented my indignation -like a man of business, in totting up the books, and running up a heavy -arrear in the office accounts--yes, sir, I did more good in the way of -arithmetic and book-keeping during that three weeks of love-sick agony, -than an ordinary man, without the stimulus, would do in a year"--there -was another pause here, and he resumed in a softened tone--"but Letty -Bodkin was no ordinary woman. Oh! you scoundrel, had you seen her, -you'd have been neither to hold nor to bind--there was nothing she -could not do--she embroidered a waistcoat for me--heigho! scarlet -geraniums and parsley sprigs--and she danced like--like a--a spring -board--she'd sail through a minuet like a duck in a pond, and hop and -bounce through 'Sir Roger de Coverley' like a hot chestnut on a -griddle;--and then she sang--oh, her singing!--I've heard turtle-doves -and thrushes, and, in fact, most kind of fowls of all sorts and sizes; -but no nightingale ever came up to her in 'The Captain endearing and -tall,' and 'The Shepherdess dying for love'--there never lived a -man"--continued he, with increasing vehemence--"I don't care when or -where, who could have stood, sate, or walked in her company for -half-an-hour, without making an old fool of himself--she was just my -age, perhaps a year or two more--I wonder whether she is much -changed--heigho!" - -Having thus delivered himself, Mr. Audley lapsed into meditation, and -thence into a faint and rather painful attempt to vocalize his -remembrance of "The Captain endearing and tall," engaged in which -desperate operation of memory, O'Connor left the old gentleman, and -returned to his temporary abode to pass a sleepless night of vain -remembrances, regrets, and despair. - -On the morning subsequent to the somewhat disorderly scene which we -have described as having occurred in the theatre, Mary Ashwoode, as -usual, sate silent and melancholy, in the dressing-room of her father, -Sir Richard. The baronet was not yet sufficiently recovered to venture -downstairs to breakfast, which in those days was a very early meal -indeed. After an unusually prolonged silence, the old man, turning -suddenly to his daughter, abruptly said, "Mary, you have now had some -days to study Lord Aspenly--how do you like him?" - -The girl raised her eyes, not a little surprised at the question, and -doubtful whether she had heard it aright. - -"I say," resumed he, "you ought to have been able by this time to -arrive at a fair judgment as to Lord Aspenly's merits--what do you -think of him--do you like him?" - -"Indeed, father," replied she, "I have observed him very little--he may -be a very estimable man, but I have not seen enough of him to form any -opinion; and indeed, if I had, _my_ opinion must needs be a matter of -the merest indifference to him and everyone else." - -"Your opinion upon this point," replied Sir Richard, tartly, "happens -_not_ to be a matter of indifference." - -A considerable pause again ensued, during which Mary Ashwoode had ample -time to reflect upon the very unpleasant doubts which this brief -speech, and the tone in which it was uttered, were calculated to -inspire. - -"Lord Aspenly's manners are very agreeable, _very_," continued Sir -Richard, meditatively--"I may say, indeed, fascinating--_very_--do you -think so?" he added sharply, turning towards his daughter. - -This was rather a puzzling question. The girl had never thought about -him except as a frivolous old beau; yet it was plain she could not say -so without vexing her father; she therefore adopted the simplest -expedient under such perplexing circumstances, and preserved an -embarrassed silence. - -"The fact is," said Sir Richard, raising himself a little, so as to -look full in his daughter's face, at the same time speaking slowly and -sternly, "the fact is, I had better be explicit on this subject. _I_ am -anxious that you should think well of Lord Aspenly; it is, in short, my -wish and pleasure that you should _like_ him; you understand me--you -had _better_ understand me." This was said with an emphasis not to be -mistaken, and another pause ensued. "For the present," continued he, -"run down and amuse yourself--and--stay--offer to show his lordship the -old terrace garden--do you mind? Now, once more, run away." - -So saying, the old gentleman turned coolly from her, and rang his -hand-bell vehemently. Scarcely knowing what she did, such was her -astonishment at all that had passed, Mary Ashwoode left the room -without any very clear notion as to whither she was going, or what to -do; nor was her confusion much relieved when, on entering the hall, the -first object which encountered her was Lord Aspenly himself, with his -triangular hat under his arm, while he adjusted his deep lace -ruffles--he had never looked so ugly before. As he stood beneath her -while she descended the broad staircase, smiling from ear to ear, and -bowing with the most chivalric profundity, his skinny, lemon-coloured -face, and cold, glittering little eyes raised toward her--she thought -that it was impossible for the human shape so nearly to assume the -outward semblance of a squat, emaciated toad. - -"Miss Ashwoode, as I live!" exclaimed the noble peer, with his most -gracious and fascinating smile. "On what mission of love and mercy does -she move? Shall I hope that her first act of pity may be exercised in -favour of the most devoted of her slaves? I have been looking in vain -for a guide through the intricacies of Sir Richard's yew hedges and -leaden statues; may I hope that my presiding angel has sent me one in -you?" - -Lord Aspenly paused, and grinned wider and wider, but receiving no -answer, he resumed,-- - -"I understand, Miss Ashwoode, that the pleasure-grounds, which surround -us, abound in samples of your exquisite taste; as a votary of Flora, -may I ask, if the request be not too bold, that you will vouchsafe to -lead a bewildered pilgrim to the object of his search? There is--is -there not?--shrined in the centre of these rustic labyrinths, a small -flower-garden which owes its sweet existence to your creative genius; -if it be not too remote, and if you can afford so much leisure, allow -me to implore your guidance." - -As he thus spoke, with a graceful flourish, the little gentleman -extended his hand, and courteously taking hers by the extreme points of -the fingers, he led her forward in a manner, as he thought, so engaging -as to put resistance out of the question. Mary Ashwoode felt far too -little interest in anything but the one ever-present grief which -weighed upon her heart, to deny the old fop his trifling request; -shrouding her graceful limbs, therefore, in a short cloak, and drawing -the hood over her head, she walked forth, with slow steps and an aching -heart, among the trim hedges which fenced the old-fashioned pleasure -walks. - -"Beauty," exclaimed the nobleman, as he walked with an air of romantic -gallantry by her side, and glancing as he spoke at the flowers which -adorned the border of the path--"beauty is nowhere seen to greater -advantage than in spots like this; where nature has amassed whatever is -most beautiful in the inanimate creation, only to prove how unutterably -more exquisite are the charms of _living_ loveliness: these walks, but -this moment to me a wilderness, are now so many paths of magic -pleasure--how can I enough thank the kind enchantress to whom I owe the -transformation?" Here the little gentleman looked unutterable things, -and a silence of some minutes ensued, during which he effected some -dozen very wheezy sighs. Emboldened by Miss Ashwoode's silence, which -he interpreted as a very unequivocal proof of conscious tenderness, he -resolved to put an end to the skirmishing with which he had opened his -attack, and to commence the action in downright earnestness. "This -place breathes an atmosphere of romance; it is a spot consecrated to -the worship of love; it is--it is the shrine of passion, and I--_I_ am -a votary--a worshipper." - -Miss Ashwoode paused in mingled surprise and displeasure, for his -vehemence had become so excessive as, in conjunction with his asthma, -to threaten to choke his lordship outright. When Mary Ashwoode stopped -short, Lord Aspenly took it for granted that the crisis had arrived, -and that the moment for the decisive onset was now come; he therefore -ejaculated with a rapturous croak,-- - -"And you--_you_ are my divinity!" and at the same moment he descended -stiffly upon his two knees, caught her hand in his, and began to mumble -it with unmistakable devotion. - -"My lord--Lord Aspenly!--surely your lordship cannot mean--have done, -my lord," exclaimed the astonished girl, withdrawing her hand -indignantly from his grasp. "Rise, my lord; you cannot mean otherwise -than to mock me by such extravagance. My lord--my lord, you surprise -and shock me beyond expression." - -"Angel of beauty! most exquisite--most perfect of your sex," gasped his -lordship, "I love you--yes, to distraction. Answer me, if you would not -have me expire at your feet--ugh--ugh--tell me that I may -hope--ugh--that I am not indifferent to you--ugh, ugh, ugh,--that--that -you can love me?" Here his lordship was seized with so violent a fit of -coughing, that Miss Ashwoode began to fear that he would expire at her -feet in downright earnest. During the paroxysm, in which, with one hand -pressed upon his side, he supported himself by leaning with the other -upon the ground, Mary had ample time to collect her thoughts, so that -when at length he had recovered his breath, she addressed him with -composure and decision. - -"My lord," she said, "I am grateful for your preference of me; -although, when I consider the shortness of my acquaintance with you, -and how few have been your opportunities of knowing me, I cannot but -wonder very much at its vehemence. For me, your lordship cannot feel -more than an idle fancy, which will, no doubt, pass away just as -lightly as it came; and as for my feelings, I have only to say, that it -is wholly impossible for you ever to establish in them any interest of -the kind you look for. Indeed, indeed, my lord, I hope I have not given -you pain--nothing can be further from my wish than to do so; but it is -my duty to tell you plainly and at once my real feelings. I should -otherwise but trifle with your kindness, for which, although I cannot -return it as you desire, I shall ever be grateful." - -Having thus spoken, she turned from her noble suitor, and began to -retrace her steps rapidly towards the house. - -"Stay, Miss Ashwoode--remain here for a moment--you _must_ hear me!" -exclaimed Lord Aspenly, in a tone so altered, that she involuntarily -paused, while his lordship, with some difficulty, raised himself again -to his feet, and with a flushed and haggard face, in which still -lingered the ghastly phantom of his habitual smile, he hobbled to her -side. "Miss Ashwoode," he exclaimed, in a tone tremulous with emotions -very different from love, "I--I--I am not used to be treated -cavalierly--I--I will not brook it: I am not to be trifled -with--jilted--madam, jilted, and taken in. You have accepted and -encouraged my attentions--attentions which you cannot have mistaken; -and now, madam, when I make you an offer--such as your ambition, your -most presumptuous ambition, dared not have anticipated--the offer of my -hand--and--and a coronet, you coolly tell me you never cared for me. -Why, what on earth do you look for or expect?--a foreign prince or -potentate, an emperor, ha--ha--he--he--ugh--ugh--ugh! I tell you -plainly, Miss Ashwoode, that _my_ feelings _must_ be considered. I have -long made my passion known to you; it has been encouraged; and I have -obtained Sir Richard's--your father's--sanction and approval. You had -better reconsider what you have said. I shall give you an hour; at the -end of that time, unless you see the propriety of avowing feelings -which, you must pardon me when I say it, your encouragement of my -advances has long virtually acknowledged, I must lay the whole case, -including all the painful details of my own ill-usage, before Sir -Richard Ashwoode, and trust to his powers of persuasion to induce you -to act reasonably, and, I _will_ add, _honourably_." - -Here his lordship took several extraordinarily copious pinches of -snuff, after which he bowed very low, conjured up an unusually hideous -smile, in which spite, fury, and triumph were eagerly mingled, and -hobbled away before the astonished girl had time to muster her spirits -sufficiently to answer him. - - - - -CHAPTER XXI. - -WHO APPEARED TO MARY ASHWOODE AS SHE SATE UNDER THE TREES--THE -CHAMPION. - - -With flashing eyes and a swelling heart, struck dumb with unutterable -indignation, the beautiful girl stood fixed in the attitude in which -his last words had reached her, while the enraged and unmanly old fop -hobbled away, with the ease and grace with which a crippled ape might -move over a hot griddle. He had disappeared for some minutes before she -had recovered herself sufficiently to think or speak. - -"If _he_ were by my side," she said, "this noble lord dared not have -used me thus. Edmond would have died a thousand deaths first. But oh! -God look upon me, for _his_ love is gone from me, and I am now a poor, -grieved, desolate creature, with none to help me." - -Thus saying, she sate herself down upon the grass bank, beneath the -tall and antique trees, and wept with all the bitter and devoted -abandonment of hopeless sorrow. From this unrestrained transport of -grief she was at length aroused by the pressure of a hand, gently and -kindly laid upon her shoulder. - -"What vexes you, Mary, my little girl?" inquired Major O'Leary, for he -it was that stood by her. "Come, darling, don't fret, but tell your old -uncle the whole business, and twenty to one, he has wit enough in his -old noddle yet to set matters to rights. So, so, my darling, dry your -pretty eyes--wipe the tears away; why should they wet your young -cheeks, my poor little doat, that you always were. It is too early yet -for sorrow to come on you. Wouldn't I throw myself between my little -pet and all grief and danger? Then trust to me, darling; wipe away the -tears, or by ---- I'll begin to cry myself. Dry your eyes, and see if I -can't help you one way or another." - -The mellow brogue of the old major had never fallen before with such a -tender pathos upon the ear of his beautiful niece, as now that its rich -current bore full upon her heart the unlooked-for words of kindness and -comfort. - -"Were not you always _my_ pet," continued he, with the same tenderness -and pity in his tone, "from the time I first took you upon my knee, my -poor little Mary? And were not you fond of your old rascally uncle -O'Leary? Usedn't I always to take your part, right or wrong; and do you -think I'll desert you now? Then tell it all to me--ain't I your poor -old uncle, the same as ever? Come, then, dry the tears--there's a -darling--wipe them away." - -While thus speaking, the warm-hearted old man took her hand, with a -touching mixture of gallantry, pity, and affection, and kissed it again -and again, with a thousand accompanying expressions of endearment, such -as in the days of her childhood he had been wont to lavish upon his -little favourite. The poor girl, touched by the kindness of her early -friend, whose good-natured sympathy was not to be mistaken, gradually -recovered her composure, and yielding to the urgencies of the major, -who clearly perceived that something extraordinarily distressing must -have occurred to account for her extreme agitation, she at length told -him the immediate cause of her grief and excitement. The major listened -to the narrative with growing indignation, and when it had ended, he -inquired, in a tone, about whose unnatural calmness there was something -infinitely more formidable than in the noisiest clamour of fury,-- - -"Which way, darling, did his lordship go when he left you?" - -The girl looked in his face, and saw his deadly purpose there. - -"Uncle, my own dear uncle," she cried distractedly, "for God's sake do -not follow him--for God's sake--I conjure you, I implore--" She would -have cast herself at his feet, but the major caught her in his arms. - -"Well, well, my darling." he exclaimed, "I'll not _kill_ him, well as -he deserves it--I'll not: you have saved his life. I pledge you my -honour, as a gentleman and a soldier, I'll not harm him for what he has -said or done this day--are you satisfied?" - -"I am, I am! Thank God, thank God!" exclaimed the poor girl, eagerly. - -"But, Mary, I must see him," rejoined the major; "he has threatened to -set Sir Richard upon you--I must see him; you don't object to that, -under the promise I have made? I want to--to _reason_ with him. He -shall not get you into trouble with the baronet; for though Richard and -I came of the same mother, we are not of the same marriage, nor of the -same mould--I would not for a cool hundred that he told his story to -your father." - -"Indeed, indeed, dear uncle," replied the girl, "I fear me there is -little hope of escape or ease for me. My father must know what has -passed; he will learn it inevitably, and then it needs no colouring or -misrepresentation to call down upon me his heaviest displeasure; his -anger I must endure as best I may. God help me. But neither threats nor -violence shall make me retract the answer I have given to Lord Aspenly, -nor ever yield consent to marry _him_--nor any other now." - -"Well, well, little Mary," rejoined the major, "I like your spirit. -Stand to that, and you'll never be sorry for it. In the meantime, I'll -venture to exercise his lordship's conversational powers in a brief -conference of a few minutes, and if I find him as reasonable as I -expect, you'll have no cause to regret my interposition. Don't look so -frightened--haven't I promised, on the honour of a gentleman, that I -will _not_ pink him for anything said or done in his conference with -you? To send a small sword through a bolster or a bailiff," he -continued, meditatively, "is an _indifferent_ action; but to spit such -a poisonous, crawling toad as the respectable old gentleman in -question, would be nothing short of _meritorious_--it is an act that -'ud tickle the fancy of every saint in heaven, and, if there's justice -on earth, would canonize myself. But never mind, I'll let it alone--the -little thing shall escape, since _you_ wish it--Major O'Leary has said -it, so let no doubt disturb you. Good-bye, my little darling, dry your -eyes, and let me see you, before an hour, as merry as in the merriest -days that are gone." - -So saying, Major O'Leary patted her cheek, and taking her hand -affectionately in both his, he added,-- - -"Sure I am, that there is more in all this than you care to tell me, my -little pet. I am sorely afraid there is something beyond my power to -remedy, to change your light-hearted nature so mournfully. What it is, -I will not inquire, but remember, darling, whenever you want a friend, -you'll find a sure one in me." - -Thus having spoken, he turned from her, and strode rapidly down the -walk, until the thick, formal hedges concealed his retreating form -behind their impenetrable screens of darksome verdure. - -Odd as were the manner and style of the major's professions, there was -something tender, something of heartiness, in his speech, which assured -her that she had indeed found a friend in him--rash, volatile, and -violent it might be, but still one on whose truth and energy she might -calculate. That there was one being who felt with her and for her, was -a discovery which touched her heart and moved her generous spirit, and -she now regarded the old major, whose spoiled favourite in childhood -she had been, but whom, before, she had never known capable of a -serious feeling, with emotions of affection and gratitude, stronger and -more ardent than he had ever earned from any other being. Agitated, -grieved, and excited, she hurriedly left the scene of this interview, -and sought relief for her overcharged feelings in the quiet and -seclusion of her chamber. - - - - -CHAPTER XXII. - -THE SPINET. - - -In no very pleasant frame of mind did Lord Aspenly retrace his steps -toward the old house. His lordship had, all his life, been firmly -persuaded that the whole female creation had been sighing and pining -for the possession of his heart and equipage. He knew that among those -with whom his chief experience lay, his fortune and his coronet were -considerations not to be resisted; and he as firmly believed, that even -without such recommendations, few women, certainly none of any taste or -discrimination, could be found with hearts so steeled against the -archery of Cupid, as to resist the fascinations of his manner and -conversation, supported and directed, as both were, by the tact and -experience drawn from a practice of more years than his lordship cared -to count, even to himself. He had, however, smiled, danced, and -chatted, in impregnable celibacy, through more than half a century of -gaiety and frivolity--breaking, as he thought, hearts innumerable, and, -at all events, disappointing very many calculations--until, at length, -his lordship had arrived at that precise period of existence at which -old gentlemen, not unfrequently, become all at once romantic, -disinterested, and indiscreet--nobody exactly knows why--unless it be -for variety, or to spite an heir presumptive, or else that, as a -preliminary to second childhood, nature has ordained a second _boyhood_ -too. Certain, however, it is, that Lord Aspenly was seized, on a -sudden, with a matrimonial frenzy; and, tired of the hackneyed -schemers, in the centre of whose manoeuvres he had stood and smiled so -long in contemptuous security, he resolved that his choice should -honour some simple, unsophisticated beauty, who had never plotted his -matrimony. - -Fired with this benevolent resolution, he almost instantly selected -Mary Ashwoode as the happy companion of his second childhood, -acquainted Sir Richard with his purpose, of course received his consent -and blessing, and forthwith opened his entrenchments with the same -certainty of success with which the great Duke of Marlborough might -have invested a Flanders village. The inexperience of a girl who had -mixed, comparatively, so little in gay society, her consequent openness -to flattery, and susceptibility of being fascinated by the elegance of -his address, and the splendour of his fortune--all these -considerations, accompanied by a clear consciousness of his own -infinite condescension in thinking of her at all, had completely -excluded from all his calculations the very possibility of her doing -anything else than jump into his arms the moment he should open them to -receive her. The result of the interview which had just taken place, -had come upon him with the overwhelming suddenness of a thunderbolt. -Rejected!--Lord Aspenly rejected!--a coronet, and a fortune, and a man -whom all the male world might envy--each and all rejected!--and by -whom?--a chit of a girl, who had no right to look higher than a -half-pay captain with a wooden leg, or a fox-hunting boor, with a few -inaccessible acres of bog and mountain--the daughter of a spendthrift -baronet, who was, as everyone knew, on the high road to ruin. Death and -fury! was it to be endured? - -The little lover, absorbed in such tranquilizing reflections, arrived -at the house, and entered the drawing-room. It was not unoccupied; -seated by a spinet, and with a sheet of music-paper in her lap, and a -pencil in her hand, was the fair Emily Copland. As he entered, she -raised her eyes, started a little, became gracefully confused, and -then, with her archest smile, exclaimed,-- - -"What shall I say, my lord? You have detected me. I have neither -defence nor palliation to offer; you have fairly caught me. Here am I -engaged in perhaps the most presumptuous task that ever silly maiden -undertook--I am wedding your beautiful verses to most unworthy music of -my own. After all, there is nothing like a simple ballad. Such -exquisite lines as these inspire music of themselves. Would that Henry -Purcell had had but a peep at them! To what might they not have -prompted such a genius--to what, indeed?" - -So sublime was the flight of fancy suggested by this interrogatory, -that Miss Copland shook her head slowly in poetic rapture, and gazed -fondly for some seconds upon the carpet, apparently unconscious of Lord -Aspenly's presence. - -"_She_ is a fine creature," half murmured he, with an emphasis upon the -identity which implied a contrast not very favourable to -Mary--"and--and very pretty--nay, she looks almost beautiful, and -so--so lively--so much vivacity. Never was poor poet so much -flattered," continued his lordship, approaching, as he spoke, and -raising his voice, but not above its most mellifluous pitch; "to have -his verses read by _such_ eyes, to have them chanted by such a -minstrel, were honour too high for the noblest bards of the noblest -days of poetry: for me it is a happiness almost too great; yet, if the -request be not a presumptuous one, may I, in all humility, pray that -you will favour me with the music to which you have coupled my most -undeserving--my most favoured lines?" - -The young lady looked modest, glanced coyly at the paper which lay in -her lap, looked modest once more, and then arch again, and at length, -with rather a fluttered air, she threw her hands over the keys of the -instrument, and to a tune, of which we say enough when we state that it -was in no way unworthy of the words, she sang, rather better than young -ladies usually do, the following exquisite stanzas from his lordship's -pen:-- - - "Tho' Chloe slight me when I woo, - And scorn the love of poor Philander; - The shepherd's heart she scorns is true, - His heart is true, his passion tender. - - "But poor Philander sighs in vain, - In vain laments the poor Philander; - Fair Chloe scorns with high disdain, - His love so true and passion tender. - - "And here Philander lays him down, - Here will expire the poor Philander; - The victim of fair Chloe's frown, - Of love so true and passion tender. - - "Ah, well-a-day! the shepherd's dead; - Ay, dead and gone, the poor Philander; - And Dryads crown with flowers his head, - And Cupid mourns his love so tender." - -During this performance, Lord Aspenly, who had now perfectly recovered -his equanimity, marked the time with head and hand, standing the while -beside the fair performer, and every note she sang found its way -through the wide portals of his vanity, directly to his heart. - -"Brava! brava! bravissima!" murmured his lordship, from time to time. -"Beautiful, beautiful air--most appropriate--most simple; not a note -that accords not with the word it carries--beautiful, indeed! A -thousand thanks! I have become quite conceited of lines of which -heretofore I was half ashamed. I am quite elated--at once overpowered -by the characteristic vanity of the poet, and more than recompensed by -the reality of his proudest aspiration--that of seeing his verses -appreciated by a heart of sensibility, and of hearing them sung by the -lips of beauty." - -"I am but too happy if I am _forgiven_," replied Emily Copland, -slightly laughing, and with a heightened colour, while the momentary -overflow of merriment was followed by a sigh, and her eyes sank -pensively upon the ground. - -This little by-play was not lost upon Lord Aspenly. - -"Poor little thing," he inwardly remarked, "she is in a very bad -way--desperate--quite desperate. What a devil of a rascal I am to be -sure! Egad! it's almost a pity--she's a decidedly superior person; she -has an elegant turn of mind--refinement--taste--egad! she is a fine -creature--and so simple. She little knows I see it all; perhaps she -hardly knows herself what ails her--poor, poor little thing!" - -While these thoughts floated rapidly through his mind, he felt, along -with his spite and anger towards Mary Ashwoode, a feeling of contempt, -almost of disgust, engendered by her audacious non-appreciation of his -merits--an impertinence which appeared the more monstrous by the -contrast of Emily Copland's tenderness. _She_ had made it plain enough, -by all the artless signs which simple maidens know not how to hide, -that his fascinations had done their fatal work upon her heart. He had -seen, this for several days, but not with the overwhelming distinctness -with which he now beheld it. - -"Poor, poor little girl!" said his lordship to himself; "I am very, -very sorry, but it cannot be helped; it is no fault of mine. I am -really very, very, confoundedly sorry." - -In saying so to himself, however, he told himself a lie; for, instead -of being grieved, he was pleased beyond measure--a fact which he might -have ascertained by a single glance at the reflection of his wreathed -smiles in the ponderous mirror which hung forward from the pier between -the windows, as if staring down in wondering curiosity upon the -progress of the flirtation. Not caring to disturb a train of thought -which his vanity told him were but riveting the subtle chains which -bound another victim to his conquering chariot-wheels, the Earl of -Aspenly turned, with careless ease, to a table, on which lay some -specimens of that worsted tapestry-work, in which the fair maidens of a -century and a half ago were wont to exercise their taste and skill. - -"Your work is very, very beautiful," said he, after a considerable -pause, and laying down the canvas, upon whose unfinished worsted task -he had been for some time gazing. - -"That is my _cousin's_ work," said Emily, not sorry to turn the -conversation to a subject upon which, for many reasons, she wished to -dwell; "she used to work a great deal with me before she grew -romantic--before she fell in love." - -"In love!--with whom?" inquired Lord Aspenly, with remarkable -quickness. - -"Don't you know, my lord?" inquired Emily Copland, in simple wonder. -"May be I ought not to have told you--I am sure I ought not. Do not ask -me any more. I am the giddiest girl--the most thoughtless!" - -"Nay, nay," said Lord Aspenly, "you need not be afraid to trust _me_--I -never tell tales; and now that I know the fact that she is in love, -there can be no harm in telling me the less important particulars. On -my honour," continued his lordship, with real earnestness, and affected -playfulness--"upon my sacred honour! I shall not breathe one syllable -of it to mortal--I shall be as secret as the tomb. Who is the happy -person in question?" - -"Well, my lord, you'll _promise_ not to betray me," replied she. "I -know very well I ought not to have said a word about it; but as I -_have_ made the blunder, I see no harm in telling you all I know; but -you _will_ be secret?" - -"On my honour--on my life and soul, I swear!" exclaimed his lordship, -with unaffected eagerness. - -"Well, then, the happy man is a Mr. Edmond O'Connor," replied she. - -"O'Connor--O'Connor--I never saw nor heard of the man before," rejoined -the earl, reflectively. "Is he wealthy?" - -"Oh! no; a mere beggarman," replied Emily, "and a Papist to boot!" - -"Ha, ha, ha--he, he, he! a Papist beggar," exclaimed his lordship, with -an hysterical giggle, which was intended for a careless laugh. "Has he -any conversation--any manner--any attraction of _that_ kind?" - -"Oh! none in the world!--both ignorant, and I think, vulgar," replied -Emily. "In short, he is very nearly a stupid boor!" - -"Excellent! Ha, ha--he, he, he!--ugh! ugh!--very capital--excellent! -excellent!" exclaimed his lordship, although he might have found some -difficulty in explaining in what, precisely the peculiar excellence of -the announcement consisted. "Is he--is he--a--a--_handsome_?" - -"Decidedly _not_ what I consider handsome!" replied she; "he is a -large, coarse-looking fellow, with very broad shoulders--very -large--and as they say of oxen, in very great condition--a sort of a -prize man!" - -"Ha, ha!--ugh! ugh!--he, he, he, he, he!--ugh, ugh, -ugh!--de--lightful--quite delightful!" exclaimed the earl, in a tone of -intense chagrin, for he was conscious that his own figure was perhaps a -little too scraggy, and his legs a _leetle_ too nearly approaching the -genus spindle, and being so, there was no trait in the female character -which he so inveterately abhorred and despised as their tendency to -prefer those figures which exhibited a due proportion of thew and -muscle. Under a cloud of rappee, his lordship made a desperate attempt -to look perfectly delighted and amused, and effected a retreat to the -window, where he again indulged in a titter of unutterable spite and -vexation. - -"And what says Sir Richard to the advances of this very desirable -gentleman?" inquired he, after a little time. - -"Sir Richard is, of course, violently against it," replied Emily -Copland. - -"So I should have supposed," returned the little nobleman, briskly. And -turning again to the window, he relapsed into silence, looked out -intently for some minutes, took more snuff, and finally, consulting his -watch, with a few words of apology, and a gracious smile and a bow, -quitted the room. - - - - -CHAPTER XXIII. - -THE DARK ROOM--CONTAINING PLENTY OF SCARS AND BRUISES AND PLANS OF -VENGEANCE. - - -On the same day a very different scene was passing in another quarter, -whither for a few moments we must transport the reader. In a large and -aristocratic-looking brick house, situated near the then fashionable -suburb of Glasnevin, surrounded by stately trees, and within furnished -with the most prodigal splendour, combined with the strictest and most -minute attention to comfort and luxury, and in a large and lofty -chamber, carefully darkened, screened round by the rich and voluminous -folds of the silken curtains, with spider-tables laden with fruits and -wines and phials of medicine, crowded around him, and rather buried -than supported among a luxurious pile of pillows, lay, in sore bodily -torment, with fevered pulse, and heart and brain busy with a thousand -projects of revenge, the identical Nicholas Blarden, whose signal -misadventure in the theatre, upon the preceding evening, we have -already recorded. A decent-looking matron sate in a capacious chair, -near the bed, in the capacity of nurse-tender, while her constrained -and restless manner, as well as the frightened expression with which, -from time to time, she stole a glance at the bloated mass of scars and -bruises, of which she had the care, pretty plainly argued the sweet and -patient resignation with which her charge endured his sufferings. In -the recess of the curtained window sate a little black boy, arrayed -according to the prevailing fashion, in a fancy suit, and with a turban -on his head, and carrying in his awe-struck countenance, as well as in -the immobility of his attitude, a woeful contradiction to the gaiety of -his attire. - -"Drink--drink--where's that d----d hag?--give me drink, I say!" howled -the prostrate gambler. - -The woman started to her feet, and with a step which fell noiselessly -upon the deep-piled carpets which covered the floor, she hastened to -supply him. - -He had hardly swallowed the draught, when a low knock at the door -announced a visitor. - -"Come in, can't you?" shouted Blarden. - -"How do you feel now, Nicky dear?" inquired a female voice--and a -handsome face, with rather a bold expression, and crowned by a small -mob-cap, overlaid with a profusion of the richest lace, peeped into the -room through the half-open door--"how do you feel?" - -"In _hell_--that's all," shouted he. - -"Doctor Mallarde is below, love," added she, without evincing either -surprise or emotion of any kind at the concise announcement which the -patient had just delivered. - -"Let him come up then," was the reply. - -"And a Mr. M'Quirk--a messenger from Mr. Chancey." - -"Let _him_ come up too. But why the hell did not Chancey come -himself?--That will do--pack--be off." - -The lady tossed her head, like one having authority, looked half -inclined to say something sharp, but thought better of it, and -contented herself with shutting the door with more emphasis than Dr. -Mallarde would have recommended. - -The physician of those days was a solemn personage: he would as readily -have appeared without his head, as without his full-bottomed wig; and -his ponderous gold-headed cane was a sort of fifth limb, the -supposition of whose absence involved a contradiction to the laws of -anatomy; his dress was rich and funereal; his step was slow and -pompous; his words very long and very few; his look was mysterious; his -nod awful; and the shake of his head unfathomable: in short, he was in -no respect very much better than a modern charlatan. The science which -he professed was then overgrown with absurdities and mystification. The -temper of the times was superstitious and credulous, the physician, -being wise in his generation, framed his outward man (including his air -and language) accordingly, and the populace swallowed his long words -and his electuaries with equal faith. - -Doctor Mallarde was a doctor-like person, and, in theatrical -phraseology, looked the part well. He was tall and stately, saturnine -and sallow in aspect, had bushy, grizzled brows, and a severe and -prominent dark eye, a thin, hooked nose, and a pair of lips just as -thin as it. Along with these advantages he had a habit of pressing the -gold head of his professional cane against one corner of his mouth, in -a way which produced a sinister and mysterious distortion of that -organ; and by exhibiting the medical baton, the outward and visible -sign of doctorship, in immediate juxtaposition with the fountain of -language, added enormously to the gravity and authority of the words -which from time to time proceeded therefrom. - -In the presence of such a spectre as this--intimately associated with -all that was nauseous and deadly on earth--it is hardly to be wondered -at that even Nicholas Blarden felt himself somewhat uneasy and abashed. -The physician felt his pulse, gazing the while upon the ceiling, and -pressing the gold head of his cane, as usual, to the corner of his -mouth; made him put out his tongue, asked him innumerable questions, -which we forbear to publish, and ended by forbidding his patient the -use of every comfort in which he had hitherto found relief, and by -writing a prescription which might have furnished a country dispensary -with good things for a twelvemonth. He then took his leave and his fee, -with the grisly announcement, that unless the drugs were all swallowed, -and the other matters attended to in a spirit of absolute submission, -he would not answer for the life of the patient. - -"I am d----d glad he's gone at last," exclaimed Blarden, with a kind of -gasp, as if a weight had been removed from his breast. "Curse me, if I -did not feel all the time as if my coffin was in the room. Are you -there, M'Quirk?" - -"Here I am, Mr. Blarden," rejoined the person addressed, whom we may as -well describe, as we shall have more to say about him by-and-by. - -Mr. M'Quirk was a small, wiry man, of fifty years and upwards, arrayed -in that style which is usually described as "shabby genteel." He was -gifted with one of those mean and commonplace countenances which seem -expressly made for the effectual concealment of the thoughts and -feelings of the possessor--an advantage which he further secured by -habitually keeping his eyes as nearly closed as might be, so that, for -any indication afforded by them of the movements of the inward man, -they might as well have been shut up altogether. The peculiarity, if -not the grace, of his appearance, was heightened by a contraction of -the muscles at the nape of the neck, which drew his head backward, and -produced a corresponding elevation of the chin, which, along with a -certain habitual toss of the head, gave to his appearance a kind of -caricatured affectation of superciliousness and _hauteur_, very -impressive to behold. Along with the swing of the head, which we have -before noticed, there was, whenever he spoke, a sort of careless -libration of the whole body, which, together with a certain way of -jerking or twitching the right shoulder from time to time, were the -only approaches to gesticulation in which he indulged. - -"Well, what does your master say?" inquired Blarden--"out with it, -can't you." - -"Master--master--indeed! Cock _him_ up with _master_," echoed the man, -with lofty disdain. - -"Ay! what does he say?" reiterated Blarden, in no very musical tones. -"D---- you, are you choking, or moonstruck? Out with it, can't you?" - -"_Chancey_ says that you had better think the matter over--and that's -his opinion," replied M'Quirk. - -"And a fine opinion it is," rejoined Blarden, furiously. "Why, in -hell's name, what's the matter with him--the--drivelling idiot? What's -law for--what's the courts for? Am I to be trounced and cudgelled in -the face of hundreds, and--and half _murdered_, and nothing for it? I -tell you, I'll be beggared before the scoundrel shall escape. If every -penny I'm worth in the world can buy it, I'll have justice. Tell that -sleepy sot Chancey that I'll _make_ him work. Ho--o--o--oh!" bawled the -wretch, as his anguish all returned a hundredfold in the fruitless -attempt to raise himself in bed. - -"Drink, here--_drink_--I'm choking! Hock and water. D---- you, don't -look so stupid and frightened. I'll not be bamboozled by an old -'pothecary. Quick with it, you fumbling witch." - -He finished the draught, and lay silently for a time. - -"See--mind me, M'Quirk," he said, after a pause, "tell Chancey to come -out himself--tell him to be here before evening, or I'll make him sorry -for it, do you mind; I want to give him directions. Tell him to come at -once, or I'll make him _smoke_ for it, that's all." - -"I understand--all right--very well; and so, as you seem settling for a -snooze, I wish you good-evening, Mr. Blarden, and all sorts of pleasure -and happiness," rejoined the messenger. - -The patient answered by a grin and a stifled howl, and Mr. M'Quirk, -having his head within the curtains, which screened him effectually -from the observation of the two attendants, and observing that Mr. -Blarden's eyes were closely shut in the rigid compression of pain, put -out his tongue, and indulged for a few seconds in an exceedingly ugly -grimace, after which, repeating his farewell in a tone of respectful -sympathy, he took his departure, chuckling inwardly all the way -downstairs, for the little gentleman had a playful turn for mischief. - -When Gordon Chancey, Esquire, barrister-at-law, in obedience to this -summons, arrived at Cherry Hill, for so the residence of the sick -voluptuary was called, he found his loving friend and patron, Nicholas -Blarden, babbling not of green fields, but of green curtains, theatres, -dice-boxes, bright eyes, small-swords, and the shades infernal--in a -word, in a high state of delirium. On calling next day, however, he -beheld him much recovered; and after an extremely animated discussion, -these two well-assorted confederates at length, by their united -ingenuity, succeeded in roughly sketching the outlines of a plan of -terrific vengeance, in all respects worthy of the diabolical council in -which it originated, and of whose progress and development this history -very fully treats. - - - - -CHAPTER XXIV. - -A CRITIC--A CONDITION--AND THE SMALL-SWORDS. - - -Lord Aspenly walked forth among the trim hedges and secluded walks -which surrounded the house, and by alternately taking enormous pinches -of rappee, and humming a favourite air or two, he wonderfully assisted -his philosophy in recovering his equanimity. - -"It matters but little how the affair ends," thought his lordship, "if -in matrimony--the girl is, after all, a very fine girl: but if the -matter is fairly off, in that case I shall--look very foolish," -suggested his conscience faintly, but his lordship dismissed the -thought precipitately--"in that case I shall make it a point to marry -within a fortnight. I should like to know the girl who would refuse -_me_"--"_the only one you ever asked_," suggested his conscience again, -but with no better result--"I should like to see the girl of sense or -discrimination who _could_ refuse me. I shall marry the finest girl in -the country, and _then_ I presume very few will be inclined to call me -fool." - -"Not _I_ for one, my lord," exclaimed a voice close by. Lord Aspenly -started, for he was conscious that in his energy he had uttered the -concluding words of his proud peroration with audible emphasis, and -became instantly aware that the speaker was no other than Major -O'Leary. - -"Not _I_ for one, my lord," repeated the major, with extreme gravity, -"I take it for granted, my lord, that you are no fool." - -"I am obliged to you, Major O'Leary, for your good opinion," replied -his lordship, drily, with a surprised look and a stiff inclination of -his person. - -"Nothing to be grateful for in it," replied the major, returning the -bow with grave politeness: "if years and discretion increase together, -you and I ought to be models of wisdom by this time of day. I'm proud -of my years, my lord, and I would be half as proud again if I could -count as many as your lordship." - -There was something singularly abrupt and uncalled for in all this, -which Lord Aspenly did not very well understand; he therefore stopped -short, and looked in the major's face; but reading in its staid and -formal gravity nothing whatever to furnish a clue to his exact purpose, -he made a kind of short bow, and continued his walk in dignified -silence. There was something exceedingly disagreeable, he thought, in -the manner of his companion--something very near approaching to cool -impertinence--which he could not account for upon any other supposition -than that the major had been prematurely indulging in the joys of -Bacchus. If, however, he thought that by the assumption of the frigid -and lofty dignity with which he met the advances of the major, he was -likely to relieve himself of his company, he was never more lamentably -mistaken. His military companion walked with a careless swagger by his -side, exactly regulating his pace by that of the little nobleman, whose -meditations he had so cruelly interrupted. - -"What on earth is to be done with this brute beast?" muttered his -lordship, taking care, however, that the query should not reach the -subject of it. "I must get rid of him--I must speak with the girl -privately--what the deuce is to be done?" - -They walked on a little further in perfect silence. At length his -lordship stopped short and exclaimed,-- - -"My dear major, I am a very dull companion--quite a bore; there are -times when the mind--the--the--spirits require _solitude_--and these -walks are the very scene for a lonely ramble. I dare venture to aver -that you are courting solitude like myself--your silence betrays -you--then pray do not stand on ceremony--_that_ walk leads down toward -the river--pray no ceremony." - -"Upon my conscience, my lord, I never was less inclined to stand on -ceremony than I am at this moment," replied the major; "so give -yourself no trouble in the world about me. Nothing would annoy me so -much as to have you think I was doing anything but precisely what I -liked best myself." - -Lord Aspenly bowed, took a violent pinch of snuff, and walked on, the -major still keeping by his side. After a long silence his lordship -began to lilt his own sweet verses in a careless sort of a way, which -was intended to convey to his tormentor that he had totally forgotten -his presence:-- - - "Tho' Chloe slight me when I woo, - And scorn the love of poor Philander; - The shepherd's heart she scorns is true, - His heart is true, his passion tender." - -"Passion tender," observed the major--"_passion_ tender--it's a -_nurse_-tender the like of you and me ought to be looking -for--_passion_ tender--upon my conscience, a good joke." - -Lord Aspenly was strongly tempted to give vent to his feelings; but -even at the imminent risk of bursting, he managed to suppress his fury. -The major was certainly (however unaccountable and mysterious the fact -might be) in a perfectly cut-throat frame of mind, and Lord Aspenly had -no desire to present _his_ weasand for the entertainment of his -military friend. - -"Tender--_tender_," continued the inexorable major, "allow me, my lord, -to suggest the word _tough_ as an improvement--_tender_, my lord, is a -term which does not apply to chickens beyond a certain time of life, -and it strikes me as too bold a license of poetry to apply it to a -gentleman of such extreme and venerable old age as your lordship; for I -take it for granted that Philander is another name for yourself." - -As the major uttered this critical remark, Lord Aspenly felt his brain, -as it were, fizz with downright fury; the instinct of self-preservation, -however, triumphed; he mastered his generous indignation, and resumed -his walk in a state of mind nothing short of awful. - -"My lord," inquired the major, with tragic abruptness, and with very -stern emphasis--"I take the liberty of asking, _have you made your -soul_?" - -The precise nature of the major's next proceeding, Lord Aspenly could -not exactly predict; of one thing, however, he felt assured, and that -was, that the designs of his companion were decidedly of a dangerous -character, and as he gazed in mute horror upon the major, confused but -terrific ideas of "homicidal monomania," and coroner's inquests floated -dimly through his distracted brain. - -"My soul?" faltered he, in undisguised trepidation. - -"Yes, my lord," repeated the major, with remarkable coolness, "have you -made your soul?" - -During this conference his lordship's complexion had shifted from its -original lemon-colour to a lively orange, and thence faded gradually -off into a pea-green; at which hue it remained fixed during the -remainder of the interview. - -"I protest--you cannot be serious--I am wholly in the dark. Positively, -Major O'Leary, this is very unaccountable conduct--you really -ought--pray explain." - -"Upon my conscience, I _will_ explain," rejoined the major, "although -the explanation won't make you much more in love with your present -predicament, unless I am very much out. You made my niece, Mary -Ashwoode, an offer of marriage to-day; well, she was much obliged to -you, but she did not _want_ to marry you, and she told you so civilly. -Did you then, like a man and a gentleman, take your answer from her as -you ought to have done, quietly and courteously? No, you did not; you -went to bully the poor girl, and to insult her; because she politely -declined to marry a--a--an ugly bunch of wrinkles, like you; and you -threatened to tell Sir Richard--ay, you _did_--to tell him your pitiful -story, you--you--you--but wait awhile. You want to have the poor girl -frightened and bullied into marrying you. Where's your spirit or your -feeling, my lord? But you don't know what the words mean. If ever you -did, you'd sooner have been racked to death, than have terrified and -insulted a poor friendless girl, as you thought her. But she's _not_ -friendless. I'll teach you she's not. As long as this arm can lift a -small-sword, and while the life is in my body, I'll never see any woman -maltreated by a scoundrel--a _scoundrel_, my lord; but I'll bring him -to his knees for it, or die in the attempt. And holding these opinions, -did you think I'd let you offend my niece? _No_, sir, I'd be blown to -atoms first." - -"Major O'Leary," replied his lordship, as soon as he had collected his -thoughts and recovered breath to speak, "your conduct is exceedingly -violent--very, and, I will add, most hasty and indiscreet. You have -entirely misconceived me, you have mistaken the whole affair. You will -regret this violence--I protest--I know you will, when you understand -the whole matter. At present, knowing the nature of your feelings, I -protest, though I might naturally resent your observations, it is not -in my nature, in my _heart_ to be angry." This was spoken with a very -audible quaver. - -"You _would_, my lord, you _would_ be angry," rejoined the major, -"you'd _dance_ with fury this moment, if you _dared_. You could find it -in your heart to go into a passion with a _girl_; but talking with men -is a different sort of thing. Now, my lord, we are both here, with our -swords; no place can be more secluded, and, I presume, no two men more -willing. Pray draw, my lord, or I'll be apt to spoil your velvet and -gold lace." - -"Major O'Leary, I _will_ be heard!" exclaimed Lord Aspenly, with an -earnestness which the imminent peril of his person inspired--"I _must_ -have a word or two with you, before we put this dispute to so deadly an -arbitrament." - -The major had foreseen and keenly enjoyed the reluctance and the -evident tremors of his antagonist. He returned his half-drawn sword to -its scabbard with an impatient thrust, and, folding his arms, looked -down with supreme contempt upon the little peer. - -"Major O'Leary, you have been misinformed--Miss Ashwoode has mistaken -me. I assure you, I meant no disrespect--none in the world, I protest. -I may have spoken hastily--perhaps I did--but I never intended -disrespect--never for a moment." - -"Well, my lord, suppose that I admit that you did _not_ mean any -disrespect; and suppose that I distinctly assert that I have neither -right nor inclination just now to call you to an account for anything -you may have said, in your interview this morning, offensive to my -niece; I give you leave to suppose it, and, what's more, in supposing -it, I solemnly aver, you suppose neither more nor less than the exact -truth," said the major. - -"Well, then, Major O'Leary," replied Lord Aspenly, "I profess myself -wholly at a loss to understand your conduct. I presume, at all events, -that nothing further need pass between us about the matter." - -"Not so fast, my lord, if you please," rejoined the major; "a great -deal more must pass between us before I have done with your lordship; -although I cannot punish you for the past, I have a perfect right to -restrain you for the future. I have a proposal to make, to which I -expect your lordship's assent--a proposal which, under the -circumstances, I dare say, you will think, however unpleasant, by no -means unreasonable." - -"Pray state it," said Lord Aspenly, considerably reassured on finding -that the debate was beginning to take a diplomatic turn. - -"This is my proposal, then," replied the major: "you shall write a -letter to Sir Richard, renouncing all pretensions to his daughter's -hand, and taking upon yourself the whole responsibility of the measure, -without implicating _her_ directly or indirectly; do you mind: and you -shall leave this place, and go wherever you please, before supper-time -to-night. These are the conditions on which I will consent to spare -you, my lord, and upon no other shall you escape." - -"Why, what can you mean, Major O'Leary?" exclaimed the little coxcomb, -distractedly. "If I did any such thing, I should be run through by Sir -Richard or his rakehelly son; besides, I came here for a wife--my -friends know it; I _cannot_ consent to make a fool of myself. How -_dare_ you presume to propose such conditions to me?" - -The little gentleman as he wound up, had warmed so much, that he placed -his hand on the hilt of his sword. Without one word of commentary, the -major drew his, and with a nod of invitation, threw himself into an -attitude of defence, and resting the point of his weapon upon the -ground, awaited the attack of his adversary. Perhaps Lord Aspenly -regretted the precipitate valour which had prompted him to place his -hand on his sword-hilt, as much as he had ever regretted any act of his -whole life; it was, however, too late to recede, and with the hurried -manner of one who has made up his mind to a disagreeable thing, and -wishes it soon over, he drew his also, and their blades were instantly -crossed in mortal opposition. - - - - -CHAPTER XXV. - -THE COMBAT AND ITS ISSUE. - - -Lord Aspenly made one or two eager passes at his opponent, which were -parried with perfect ease and coolness; and before he had well -recovered his position from the last of those lunges, a single clanging -sweep of the major's sword, taking his adversary's blade from the point -to the hilt with irresistible force, sent his lordship's weapon -whirring through the air some eight or ten yards away. - -"Take your life, my lord," said the major, contemptuously; "I give it -to you freely, only wishing the present were more valuable. What do you -say _now_, my lord, to the terms?" - -"I say, sir--what do _I_ say?" echoed his lordship, not very -coherently. "Major O'Leary, you have disarmed me, sir, and you ask me -what I say to your terms. What do I say? Why, sir, I say again what I -said before, that I cannot and will not subscribe to them." - -Lord Aspenly, having thus delivered himself, looked half astonished and -half frightened at his own valour. - -"Everyone to his taste--your lordship has an uncommon inclination for -slaughter," observed the major coolly, walking to the spot where lay -the little gentleman's sword, raising it, and carelessly presenting it -to him: "take it, my lord, and use it more cautiously than you _have_ -done--defend yourself!" - -Little expecting another encounter, yet ashamed to decline it, his -lordship, with a trembling hand, grasped the weapon once more, and -again their blades were crossed in deadly combat. This time his -lordship prudently forbore to risk his safety by an impetuous attack -upon an adversary so cool and practised as the major, and of whose -skill he had just had so convincing a proof. Major O'Leary, therefore, -began the attack; and pressing his opponent with some slight feints and -passes, followed him closely as he retreated for some twenty yards, and -then, suddenly striking up to the point of his lordship's sword with -his own, he seized the little nobleman's right arm at the wrist with a -grasp like a vice, and once more held his life at his disposal. - -"Take your life for the second and the _last_ time," said the major, -having suffered the wretched little gentleman for a brief pause to -fully taste the bitterness of death; "mind, my lord, for the _last_ -time;" and so saying, he contemptuously flung his lordship from him by -the arm which he grasped. - -"Now, my lord, before we begin for the _last_ time, listen to me," said -the major, with a sternness, which commanded all the attention of the -affrighted peer; "I desire that you should _fully_ understand what I -propose. I would not like to kill you under a mistake--there is nothing -like a clear, mutual understanding during a quarrel. Such an -understanding being once established, bloodshed, if it unfortunately -occurs, can scarcely, even in the most scrupulous bosom, excite the -mildest regret. I wish, my lord, to have nothing whatever to reproach -myself with in the catastrophe which you appear to have resolved shall -overtake you; and, therefore, I'll state the whole case for your dying -consolation in as few words as possible. Don't be in a hurry, my lord, -I'll not detain you more than five minutes in this miserable world. -Now, my lord, you have two strong, indeed I may call them in every -sense _fatal_, objections to my proposal. The first is, that if you -write the letter I propose, you must fight Sir Richard and young Henry -Ashwoode. Now, I pledge myself, my soul, and honour, as a Christian, a -soldier, and a gentleman, that I will stand between you and them--that -_I_ will protect you completely from all responsibility upon that -score--and that if anyone is to fight with either of them, it shall not -be you. Your second objection is, that having been fool enough to tell -the world that you were coming here for a wife, you are ashamed to go -away without one. Now, without meaning to be offensive, I never heard -anything more idiotic in the whole course of my life. But if it _must_ -be so, and that you cannot go away without a wife, why the d----l don't -you ask Emily Copland--a fine girl with some thousands of pounds, I -believe, and at all events dying for love of you, as I am sure you see -yourself? You can't care for one more than the other, and why the deuce -need you trouble your head about their gossip, if anyone wonders at the -change? And now, my lord, mark me, I have said all that is to be said -in the way of commentary or observation upon my proposal, and I must -add a word or two about the consequences of finally rejecting it. I -have spared your life twice, my lord, within these five minutes. If you -refuse the accommodation I have proposed, I will a third time give you -an opportunity of disembarrassing yourself of the whole affair by -running me through the body--in which, if you fail, so sure as you are -this moment alive and breathing before me, you shall, at the end of the -next five, be a corpse. So help me God!" - -Major O'Leary paused, leaving Lord Aspenly in a state of confusion and -horror, scarcely short of distraction. - -There was no mistaking the major's manner, and the old _beau garçon_ -already felt in imagination the cold steel busy with his intestines. - -"But, Major O'Leary," said he, despairingly, "will you engage--can you -pledge yourself that no mischief shall follow from my withdrawing as -you say? not that I would care to avoid a duel when occasion required; -but no one likes to unnecessarily risk himself. Will you indeed prevent -all unpleasantness?" - -"Did I pledge my soul and honour that I would?" inquired the major -sternly. - -"Well, I am satisfied. I do agree," replied his lordship. "But is there -any occasion for me to remove _to-night_?" - -"Every occasion," replied the major, coolly. "You must come directly -with me, and write the letter--and this evening, before supper, you -must leave Morley Court. And, above all things, just remember this, let -there be no trickery or treachery in this matter. So sure as I see the -smallest symptom of anything of the kind, I will bring about such -another piece of work as has not been for many a long day. Am I fully -understood?" - -"Perfectly--perfectly, my dear sir," replied the nobleman. "Clearly -understood. And believe me, Major, when I say that nothing but the fact -that I myself, for private reasons, am not unwilling to break the -matter off, could have induced me to co-operate with you in this -business. Believe me, sir, otherwise I should have fought until one or -other of us had fallen to rise no more." - -"To be sure you would, my lord," rejoined the major, with edifying -gravity. "And in the meantime your lordship will much oblige me by -walking up to the house. There's pen and paper in Sir Richard's study; -and between us we can compose something worthy of the occasion. Now, my -lord, if you please." - -Thus, side by side, walked the two elderly gentlemen, like the very -best friends, towards the old house. And shrewd indeed would have been -that observer who could have gathered from the manner of either -(whatever their flushed faces and somewhat ruffled exterior might have -told), as with formal courtesy they threaded the trim arbours together, -that but a few minutes before each had sought the other's life. - - - - -CHAPTER XXVI. - -THE HELL--GORDON CHANCEY--LUCK--FRENZY AND A RESOLUTION. - - -The night which followed this day found young Henry Ashwoode, his purse -replenished with bank-notes, that day advanced by Craven, to the amount -of one thousand pounds, once more engaged in the delirious prosecution -of his favourite pursuit--gaming. In the neighbourhood of the theatre, -in that narrow street now known as Smock Alley, there stood in those -days a kind of coffee-house, rather of the better sort. From the -public-room, in which actors, politicians, officers, and occasionally a -member of parliament, or madcap Irish peer, chatted, lounged, and -sipped their sack or coffee--the initiated, or, in short, any man with -a good coat on his back and a few pounds in his pocket, on exchanging a -brief whisper with a singularly sleek-looking gentleman, who sate in -the prospective of the background, might find his way through a small, -baize-covered door in the back of the chamber, and through a lobby or -two, and thence upstairs into a suite of rooms, decently hung with -gilded leather, and well lighted with a profusion of wax candles, where -hazard and cards were played for stakes unlimited, except by the -fortunes and the credit of those who gamed. The ceaseless clang of the -dice-box and rattle of the dice upon the table, and the clamorous -challenging and taking of the odds upon the throwing, accompanied by -the ferocious blasphemies of desperate losers, who, with clenched hands -and distracted gestures, poured, unheeded, their frantic railings and -imprecations, as they, in unpitied agony, withdrew from the fatal -table; and now and then the scarcely less hideous interruptions of -brutal quarrels, accusations, and recriminations among the excited and -half-drunken gamblers, were the sounds which greeted the ear of him who -ascended toward this unhallowed scene. The rooms were crowded--the -atmosphere hot and stifling, and the company in birth and pretensions, -if not in outward attire, to the full as mixed and various as the -degrees of fortune, which scattered riches and ruin promiscuously among -them. In the midst of all this riotous uproar, several persons sate and -played at cards as if (as, perhaps, was really the case), perfectly -unconscious of the ceaseless hubbub going on around them. Here you -might see in one place the hare-brained young squire, scarcely three -months launched upon the road to ruin, snoring in drunken slumber, in -his deep-cushioned chair, with his cravat untied, and waistcoat -loosened, and his last cup of mulled sack upset upon the table beside -him, and streaming upon his velvet breeches and silken hose--while his -lightly-won bank notes, stuffed into the loose coat pocket, and peeping -temptingly from the aperture, invited the fingers of the first -_chevalier d'industrie_ who wished to help himself. In another place -you might behold two sharpers fulfilling the conditions of their -partnership, by wheedling a half-tipsy simpleton into a quiet game of -ombre. And again, elsewhere you might descry some bully captain, whose -occupation having ended with the Irish wars, indemnified himself as -best he might by such contributions as he could manage to levy from the -young and reckless in such haunts as this, busily and energetically -engaged in brow-beating a timid greenhorn, who has the presumption to -fancy that he has won something from the captain, which the captain has -forgotten to pay. In another place you may see, unheeded and unheeding, -the wretch who has played and lost his last stake; with white, -unmeaning face and idiotic grin, glaring upon the floor, thought and -feeling palsied, something worse, and more appalling than a maniac. - -The whole character of the assembly bespoke the recklessness and the -selfishness of its ingredients. There was, too, among them a certain -coarse and revolting disregard and defiance of the etiquettes and -conventional decencies of social life. More than half the men were -either drunk or tipsy; some had thrown off their coats and others wore -their hats; altogether the company had more the appearance of a band of -reckless rioters in a public street, than of an assembly of persons -professing to be gentlemen, and congregated in a drawing-room. - -By the fireplace in the first and by far the largest and most crowded -of the three drawing-rooms, there sate a person whose appearance was -somewhat remarkable. He was an ill-made fellow, with long, lank, limber -legs and arms, and an habitual lazy stoop. His face was sallow; his -mouth, heavy and sensual, was continually moistened with the brandy and -water which stood beside him upon a small spider-table, placed there -for his especial use. His eyes were long-cut, and seldom more than half -open, and carrying in their sleepy glitter a singular expression of -treachery and brute cunning. He wore his own lank and grizzled hair, -instead of a peruke, and sate before the fire with a drowsy inattention -to all that was passing in the room; and, except for the occasional -twinkle of his eye as it glanced from the corner of his half-closed -lids, he might have been believed to have been actually asleep. His -attitude was lounging and listless, and all his movements so languid -and heavy, that they seemed to be rather those of a somnambulist than -of a waking man. His dress had little pretension, and less neatness; it -was a suit of threadbare, mulberry-coloured cloth, with steel buttons, -and evidently but little acquainted with the clothes-brush. His linen -was soiled and crumpled, his shoes ill-cleaned, his beard had enjoyed -at least two days' undisturbed growth; and the dingy hue of his face -and hands bespoke altogether the extremest negligence and slovenliness -of person. - -This slovenly and ungainly being, who sate apparently unconscious of -the existence of any other earthly thing than the fire on which he -gazed, and the grog which from time to time he lazily sipped, was -Gordon Chancey, Esquire, of Skycopper Court, Whitefriar Street, in the -city of Dublin, barrister-at-law--a gentleman who had never been known -to do any professional business, but who managed, nevertheless, to -live, and to possess, somehow or other, the command of very -considerable sums of money, which he most advantageously invested by -discounting, at exorbitant interest, short bills and promissory notes -in such places as that in which he now sate--one of his favourite -resorts, by the way. At intervals of from five to ten minutes he slowly -drew from the vast pocket of his clumsy coat a bulky pocket-book, and -sleepily conned over certain memoranda with which its leaves were -charged--then having looked into its well-lined receptacles, to satisfy -himself that no miracle of legerdemain had abstracted the treasure on -which his heart was set, he once more fastened the buckle of the -leathern budget, and deposited it again in his pocket. This procedure, -and his attentions to the spirits and water, which from time to time he -swallowed, succeeded one another with a monotonous regularity -altogether undisturbed by the uproarious scene which surrounded him. - -As the night wore apace, and fortune played her wildest pranks, many an -applicant--some successfully, and some in vain--sought Chancey's -succour. - -"Come, my fine fellow, tip me a cool hundred," exclaimed a -fashionably-dressed young man, flushed with the combined excitement of -wine and the dice, and tapping Chancey on the back impatiently with his -knuckles--"this moment--will you, and be d----" - -"Oh, dear me, dear me, Captain Markham," drawled the barrister in a -low, drowsy tone, as he turned sleepily toward the speaker, "have you -lost the other hundred so soon? Oh, dear!--oh, dear!" - -"Never you mind, old fox. Shell out, if you're going to do it," -rejoined the applicant. "What is it to you?" - -"Oh, dear me, dear me!" murmured Chancey, as he languidly drew the -pocket-book from his pocket. "When shall I make it payable? To-morrow?" - -"D----n to-morrow," replied the captain. "I'll sleep all to-morrow. -Won't a fortnight do, you harpy?" - -"Well, well--sign--sign it here," said the usurer, handing the paper, -with a pen, to the young gentleman, and indicating with his finger the -spot where the name was to be written. - -The _roué_ wrote his name without ever reading the paper; and Chancey -carefully deposited it in his book. - -"The money--the money--d----n you, will you never give it!" exclaimed -the young man, actually stamping with impatience, as if every moment's -absence from the hazard-table cost him a fortune. "Give--give--_give_ -them." - -He seized the notes, and without counting, stuffed them into his -coat-pocket, and plunged in an instant again among the gamblers who -crowded the table. - -"Mr. Chancey--Mr. Chancey," said a slight young man, whose whole -appearance betokened a far progress in the wasting of a mortal decline. -His face was pale as death itself, and glittering with the cold, clammy -dew of weakness and excitement. The eye was bright, wild, and glassy; -and the features of this attenuated face trembled and worked in the -spasms of agonized anxiety and despair--with timid voice, and with the -fearful earnestness of one pleading for his life--with knees half bent, -and head stretched forward, while his thin fingers were clutched and -knotted together in restless feverishness. He still repeated at -intervals in low, supplicating accents--"Mr. Chancey--Mr. Chancey--can -you spare a moment, sir--Mr. Chancey, good sir--Mr. Chancey." - -For many minutes the worthy barrister gazed on apathetically into the -fire, as if wholly unconscious that this piteous spectacle was by his -side, and all but begging his attention. - -"Mr. Chancey, good sir--Mr. Chancey, kind sir--only one moment--one -word--Mr. Chancey." - -This time the wretched young man advanced one of his trembling hands, -and laid it hesitatingly upon Chancey's knee--the seat of mercy, as the -ancients thought; but truly here it was otherwise. The hand was -repulsed with insolent rudeness; and the wretched suppliant stood -trembling in silence before the bill-discounter, who looked upon him -with a scowl of brute ferocity, which the timid advances he had made -could hardly have warranted. - -"Well," growled Chancey, keeping his baleful eyes fixed not very -encouragingly upon the poor young man. - -"I have been unfortunate, sir--I have lost my last shilling--that is, -the last I have about me at present." - -"Well," repeated he. - -"I might win it all back," continued the suppliant, becoming more -voluble as he proceeded. "I might recover it _all_--it has often -happened to me before. Oh, sir, it is possible--_certain_, if I had but -a few pounds to play on." - -"Ay, the old story," rejoined Chancey. - -"Yes, sir, it is indeed--indeed it is, Mr. Chancey," said the young -man, eagerly, catching at this improvement upon his first laconic -address as an indication of some tendency to relent, and making, at the -same time, a most woeful attempt to look pleasant--"it is, sir--the old -story, indeed; but this time it will come out true--indeed it will. -Will you do one little note for me--a _little_ one--twenty pounds?" - -"No, I won't," drawled Chancey, imitating with coarse buffoonery the -intonation of the request--"I won't do a _little_ one for you." - -"Well, for ten pounds--for _ten_ only." - -"No, nor for ten pence," rejoined Chancey, tranquilly. - -"You may keep five out of it for the discount--for friendship--only let -me have five--just _five_," urged the wasted gambler, with an agony of -supplication. - -"No, I won't; _just five_," replied the lawyer. - -"I'll make it payable to-morrow," urged the suppliant. - -"Maybe you'll be dead before that," drawled Chancey, with a sneer; "the -life don't look very tough in you." - -"Ah! Mr. Chancey, dear sir--good Mr. Chancey," said the young man, "you -often told me you'd do me a friendly turn yet. Do not you remember -it?--when I was able to lend you money. For God's sake, lend me five -pounds now, or anything; I'll give you half my winnings. You'll save me -from beggary--ah, sir, for old friendship." - -Mr. Gordon Chancey seemed wondrously tickled by this appeal; he gazed -sleepily at the fire while he raked the embers with the toe of his -shoe, stuffed his hands deep into his breeches pockets, and indulged in -a sort of lazy, comfortable laughter, which lasted for several minutes, -until at length it subsided, leaving him again apparently unconscious -of the presence of his petitioner. Emboldened by the condescension of -his quondam friend, the young man made a piteous effort to join in the -laughter--an attempt, however, which was speedily interrupted by the -hollow cough of consumption. After a pause of a minute or two, during -which Chancey seemed to have forgotten his existence, he once more -addressed that gentleman,-- - -"Well, sir--well, Mr. Chancey?" - -The barrister turned full upon him with an expression of face not to be -mistaken, and in a tone just as unequivocal, he growled,-- - -"I'm d----d if I give you as much as a leaden penny. Be off; there's no -_begging_ allowed here--away with you, you blackguard." - -Having thus delivered himself, Chancey relapsed into his ordinary -dreamy quiet. - -Every muscle in the pale, wasted face of the ruined, dying gamester -quivered with fruitless agony; he opened his mouth to speak, but could -not; he gasped and sobbed, and then, clutching his lank hands over his -eyes and forehead as though he would fain have crushed his head to -pieces, he uttered one low cry of anguish, more despairing and -appalling than the loudest shriek of horror, and passed from the room -unnoticed. - -"Jeffries, can you lend me fifty or a hundred pounds till to-morrow?" -said young Ashwoode, addressing a middle-aged fop who had just reeled -in from an adjoining room. - -"_Cuss_ me, Ashwoode, if the thing is a possibility," replied he, with -a hiccough; "I have just been fairly cleaned out by Snarley and two or -three others--not one guinea left--confound them all. I've this moment -had to beg a crown to pay my chair and link-boy home; but Chancey is -here; I saw him not an hour ago in his old corner." - -"So he is, egad--thank you," and Ashwoode was instantly by the monied -man's side. "Chancey, I want a hundred and fifty--quickly, man, are you -awake?" and so saying, he shook the lawyer roughly by the shoulder. - -"Oh, dear! oh, dear!" exclaimed he, in his usual low, sleepy voice, -"it's Mr. Ashwoode, it is indeed--dear me, dear me; and can I oblige -you, Mr. Ashwoode?" - -"Yes; don't I tell you I want a hundred and fifty--or stay, two -hundred," said Ashwoode, impatiently. "I'll pay you in a week or -less--say to-morrow if you please it." - -"Whatever sum you like, Mr. Ashwoode," rejoined he--"whatever sum or -whatever date you please; I declare to God I'm uncommonly glad to do -it. Oh, dear, but them dice _is_ unruly. Two hundred, you say, and a--a -_week_ we'll say, not to be pressing. Well, well, this money has luck -in it, maybe. That's a long lane that has no turn--fortune changes -sides when it's least expected. Your name here, Mr. Ashwoode." - -The name was signed, the notes taken, and Ashwoode once more at the -table; but alack-a-day! fortune was for once steady, and frowned with -consistent obdurateness upon Henry Ashwoode. Five minutes had hardly -passed, when the two hundred pounds had made themselves wings and -followed the larger sums which he had already lost. Again he had -recourse to Chancey: again he found that gentleman smooth, gracious, -and obliging as he could have wished. Still his luck was adverse: as -fast as he drew the notes from his pocket, they were caught and whirled -away in the eddy of ruin. Once more from the accommodating barrister he -drew a larger sum,--still with a like result. So large and frequent -were his drafts, that Chancey was obliged to go away and replenish his -exhausted treasury; and still again and again, with a terrible monotony -of disaster, young Ashwoode continued to lose. - -At length the grey, cold light of morning streamed drearily through the -chinks of the window-shutters into the hot chamber of destruction and -debauchery. The sounds of daily business began to make themselves heard -from the streets. The wax lights were flaring in the sockets. The floor -strewn with packs of cards, broken glasses, and plates, and fragments -of fowls and bread, and a thousand other disgusting indications of -recent riot and debauchery which need not to be mentioned. Soiled and -jaded, with bloodshot eyes and haggard faces, the gamblers slunk, one -by one, in spiritless exhaustion, from the scene of their distracting -orgies, to rest the brain and refresh the body as best they might. - -With a stunning and indistinct sense of disaster and ruin; a vague, -fevered, dreamy remembrance of overwhelming calamity: a stupefying, -haunting consciousness that all the clatter, and roaring, and stifling -heat, and jostling, and angry words, and smooth, civil speeches of the -night past, had been, somehow or other, to him fraught with fearful and -tremendous agony, and delirium, and ruin--Ashwoode stalked into the -street, and mechanically proceeded to the inn where his horse was -stabled. - -The ostler saw, by the haggard, vacant stare with which Ashwoode -returned his salutation, that something had gone wrong, and, as he held -the stirrup for him, he arrived at the conclusion that the young -gentleman must have gotten at least a dozen duels upon his hands, to be -settled, one and all, before breakfast. - -The young man dashed the spurs into the high-mettled horse, and -traversing the streets at a perilous speed, without well thinking or -knowing whitherward he was proceeding, he found himself at length among -the wild lanes and brushwood of the Royal Park, and was recalled to -himself by finding his horse rearing and floundering up to his sides in -a slough. Having extricated the animal, he dismounted, threw his hat -beside him, and, kneeling down, bathed his head and face again and -again in the water of a little brook, which ran in many a devious -winding through the tangled briars and thorns. The cold, refreshing -ablution, assisted by the sharp air of the morning, soon brought him to -his recollection. - -"The fiend himself must have been by my elbow last night," he muttered, -as he stood bare-headed, in wild disorder, by the brook's side. "I've -lost before, and lost heavily too, but such a run, such an infernal -string of ruinous losses. First, a thousand pounds gone--swallowed up -in little more than an hour; and then the devil knows how much -more--curse me, if I can remember _how_ much I borrowed. I am over head -and ears in Chancey's books. How shall I face my father? and how, in -the fiend's name, am I to meet my engagements? Craven will hand me no -more of the money. Was I mad or drunk, to go on against such an -accursed tide of bad luck?--what fury from hell possessed me? I wish I -had thrust my hand between the bars, and burnt it to the elbow, before -I took the dice-box last night. What's to be done?"--he paused-- -"Yes--I _must_ do it--fate, destiny, circumstances drive me to it. I -_will_ marry the woman; she can't live very long--it's not likely; and -even if she does, what's that to me?--the world is wide enough for us -both, and once married, we need not plague one another much with our -society. I must see Chancey about those d----d bills or notes: curse -me, if I even know when they are payable. My brain swims like a sea. -Lady Stukely, Lady Stukely, you are a happy woman: it's an ill wind -that blows nobody good--I am resolved--my course is taken. First then -for Morley Court, and next for the wealthy widow's. I don't half like -the thing, but, d----n it, what other chance have I? Then away with -hesitation, away with thought; fate has ordained it." - -So saying, the young man donned his hat, caught the bridle of his -well-trained steed, vaulted into the saddle, and was soon far on his -way to Morley Court, where strange and startling tidings awaited his -arrival. - - - - -CHAPTER XXVII. - -THE DEPARTURE OF THE PEER--THE BILLET AND THE SHATTERED MIRROR. - - -Never yet did day pass more disagreeably to mortal man than that whose -early events we have recorded did to Lord Aspenly. His vanity and -importance had suffered more mortification within the last few hours -than he had ever before encountered in all the eight-and-sixty winters -of his previous useful existence. And spite of the major's assurances -to the contrary, he could not help feeling certain very unpleasant -misgivings, as the evening approached, touching the consequences likely -to follow to himself from his meditated retreat. - -He resolved by the major's advice to leave Morley Court without a -formal leave-taking, or, in short, any explanatory interview whatever -with Sir Richard. And for the purpose of taking his departure without -obstruction or annoyance, he determined that the hour of his setting -forth should be that at which the baronet was wont to retire for a time -to his dressing-room, previously to appearing at supper. The note which -was to announce his departure was written and sealed, and deposited in -his waistcoat pocket. He felt that it supplied but a very meagre -explanation of so decided a step as he was constrained to take; -nevertheless it was the only explanation he had to offer. He well knew -that its perusal would be followed by an explosion, and he not unwisely -thought it best, under all the circumstances, to withdraw to a -reasonable distance before springing the mine. - -The evening closed ominously in storm and cloud; the wind was hourly -rising, and distant mutterings of thunder bespoke a night of tempest. -Lord Aspenly had issued his orders with secrecy, and they were -punctually obeyed. At the hour indicated, his own and his servant's -horses were at the door. Lord Aspenly was crossing the hall, cloaked, -booted, and spurred for the road, when he encountered Emily Copland. - -"Dear me, my lord, can it be possible--surely you are not going to -leave us to-night?" - -"Indeed, it is but too true, fair lady," rejoined his lordship, with a -dolorous shrug. "An unlucky _contretemps_ requires my attendance in -town; my precipitate flight," he continued, with an attempt at a -playful smile, "is accounted for in this note, which perhaps you will -kindly deliver to Sir Richard, when next you see him. I trust, Miss -Copland, that fortune will often grant me the privilege of meeting you. -Be assured it is one which I prize above all others. Adieu." - -His lordship gallantly kissed the hand which was extended to receive -the note, and then, with his best bow, withdrew. - -A few petulant questions, which bespoke his inward acerbity, he -addressed to his servant--glanced with a very sour aspect at the -lowering sky--clambered stiffly into the saddle, and then, desiring his -attendant to follow him, rode down the avenue at a speed which seemed -prompted by an instinctive dread of pursuit. - -As the wind howled and the thunder rolled and rumbled nearer and -nearer, Emily Copland could not but wonder more and more what urgent -and peremptory cause could have induced the little peer to adopt this -sudden resolution, and to carry it into effect upon such a night of -storm. Surely that motive must be a strange and urgent one which would -not brook the delay of a few hours, especially during the violence of -such weather as the luxurious little nobleman had perhaps never -voluntarily encountered in the whole course of his life. Curiosity -prompted her to deliver the note which she held in her hand at once; -she therefore ran lightly upstairs, and rapidly threading all the -intervening lobbies and rambling passages, she knocked at her uncle's -door. - -"Come in, come in," cried the peevish voice of Sir Richard Ashwoode. - -The girl entered the room. The Italian was at the toilet, arranging his -master's dressing-case, and the baronet himself in his night-gown and -slippers, and with a pamphlet in his hand, reclined listlessly upon a -sofa. - -"Who is that?--who _is_ it?" inquired he in the same tone, without -turning his eyes from the volume which he read. - -"Per dina!" exclaimed the Neapolitan--"Mees Emily--she is vary seldom -come here. You are wailcome, Mees Emily; weel you seet down?--there is -chair. Sir Richard, it is Mees Emily." - -"What does the young lady want?" inquired he, drily. - -"I have gotten a note for you, uncle," replied she. - -"Well, put it down?--put it there on the table, anywhere; I presume it -will keep till morning," replied he, without removing his eyes from the -pages. - -"It is from Lord Aspenly," urged the girl. - -"Eh! Lord Aspenly. How--give it to me," said the baronet, raising -himself quickly and tossing the pamphlet aside. He broke the seal and -read the note. Whatever its contents were, they produced upon the -baronet an extraordinary effect; he started from the sofa with clenched -hands and frantic gesture. - -"Who--where--stop him, after him--he shall answer me--he shall!" cried, -or rather shrieked, the baronet in the hoarse, choking scream of fury. -"After him all--my sword, my horse. By ----, he'll reckon with me this -night." - -Never did the human form more fearfully embody the passions of hell; he -stood before them absolutely transformed. The quivering face was pale -as ashes; the livid veins, like blue knotted cordage, protruded upon -his forehead; the eye glared and rolled with the light of madness, and -as he shook and raved there before them, no dream ever conjured up a -spectacle more appalling; he spit upon the letter--he tore it into -fragments, and with his gouty feet stamped it into the fire. - -There was no extravagance of frenzy which he did not enact. He tossed -his arms into the air, and dashed his clenched hands upon the table; he -stamped, he stormed, he howled; and as with thick and furious utterance -he volleyed forth his incoherent threats, mandates, and curses, the -foam hung upon his blackened lips. - -"I'll bring him to the dust--to the earth. My very menials shall spurn -him. Almighty, that he should dare--trickster--liar--that he should -dare to practise upon _me_ this outrageous slight. Ay, ay--ay, -ay--laugh, my lord--laugh on; but by the ---- ----, this shall bring -you to your knees, ay, and to your grave; and you--_you_," thundered -he, turning upon the awe-struck and terrified young lady, "you no doubt -had _your_ share in this--ay, you have--you _have_--yes, I know -you--you--you--hollow, lying ----, quit my house--out with you--turn -her out--drive her out--away with her." - -As the horrible figure advanced towards her, the girl by an effort -roused herself from the dreadful fascination, and turning from him, -fled swiftly downstairs, and fell fainting at the parlour door. - -Sir Richard still strode through his chamber with the same frantic -evidences of unabated fury; and the Italian--the only remaining -spectator of the hideous scene--sate calmly in a chair by the toilet, -with his legs crossed, and his countenance composed into a kind of -sanctimonious placidity, which, however, spite of all his efforts, -betrayed at the corners of the mouth, and in the twinkle of the eye, a -certain enjoyment of the spectacle, which was not altogether consistent -with the perfect affection which he professed for his master. - -"Ay, ay, my lord," continued the baronet, madly, "laugh on--laugh while -you may; but by the ---- ----, you shall gnash your teeth for this!" - -"What coning, old gentleman is mi Lord Aspenly--ah! vary, vary," said -the Italian, reflectively. - -"You _shall_, my lord," continued Sir Richard, furiously. "Your -disgrace shall be public--exemplary--the insult shall recoil upon, -yourself--your punishment shall be memorable-public--tremendous." - -"Mi Lord Aspenly and Sir Richard--both so coning," continued the -Italian--"yees--yees--set one thief to catch the other." - -The Neapolitan had, no doubt, bargained for the indulgence of his -pleasant humour, as usual, free of cost; but he was mistaken. With the -quickness of light, Sir Richard grasped a massive glass decanter, full -of water, and hurled it at the head of his valet. Luckily for that -gentleman's brains, it missed its object, and, alighting upon a huge -mirror, it dashed it to fragments with a stunning crash. In the -extremity of his fury, Sir Richard grasped a heavy metal inkstand, and -just as the valet escaped through the private door of his room, hurled -_it_, too, at his head. Two such escapes were quite enough for Signor -Parucci on one evening; and not wishing to tempt his luck further, he -ran nimbly down the stairs, leaped into his own room, and bolted and -double-locked the door; and thence, as the night wore on, he still -heard Sir Richard pacing up and down his chamber, and storming and -raving in dreadful rivalry with the thunder and hurricane without. - - - - -CHAPTER XXVIII. - -THE THUNDER-STORM--THE EBONY STICK--THE UNSEEN VISITANT--TERROR. - - -At length the uproar in Sir Richard's room died away. The hoarse voice -in furious soliloquy, and the rapid tread as he paced the floor, were -no longer audible. In their stead was heard alone the stormy wind -rushing and yelling through the old trees, and at intervals the deep -volleying thunder. In the midst of this hubbub the Italian rubbed his -hands, tripped lightly up and down his room, placed his ear at the -keyhole, and chuckled and rubbed his hands again in a paroxysm of -glee--now and again venting his gratification in brief ejaculations of -intense delight--the very incarnation of the spirit of mischief. - -The sounds in Sir Richard's room had ceased for two hours or more; and -the piping wind and the deep-mouthed thunder still roared and rattled. -The Neapolitan was too much excited to slumber. He continued, -therefore, to pace the floor of his chamber--sometimes gazing through -his window upon the black stormy sky and the blue lightning, which -leaped in blinding flashes across its darkness, revealing for a moment -the ivied walls, and the tossing trees, and the fields and hills, which -were as instantaneously again swallowed in the blackness of the -tempestuous night; and then turning from the casement, he would plant -himself by the door, and listen with eager curiosity for any sound from -Sir Richard's room. - -As we have said before, several hours had passed, and all had long been -silent in the baronet's apartment, when on a sudden Parucci thought he -heard the sharp and well-known knocking of his patron's ebony stick -upon the floor. He ran and listened at his own door. The sound was -repeated with unequivocal and vehement distinctness, and was -instantaneously followed by a prolonged and violent peal from his -master's hand-bell. The summons was so sustained and vehement, that the -Italian at length cautiously withdrew the bolt, unlocked the door, and -stole out upon the lobby. So far from abating, the sound grew louder -and louder. On tip-toe he scaled the stairs, until he reached to about -the midway; and he there paused, for he heard his master's voice -exerted in a tone of terrified entreaty,-- - -"Not now--not now--avaunt--not now. Oh, God!--help," cried the -well-known voice. - -These words were followed by a crash, as of some heavy body springing -from the bed--then a rush upon the floor--then another crash. - -The voice was hushed; but in its stead the wild storm made a long and -plaintive moan, and the listener's heart turned cold. - -"_Malora_--_Corpo di Pluto!_" muttered he between his teeth. "What is -it? Will he reeng again? _Santo gennaro!_--there is something wrong." - -He paused in fearful curiosity; but the summons was not repeated. Five -minutes passed; and yet no sound but the howling and pealing of the -storm. Parucci, with a beating heart, ascended the stairs and knocked -at the door of his patron's chamber. No answer was returned. - -"Sir Richard, Sir Richard," cried the man, "do you want me, Sir -Richard?" - -Still no answer. He pushed open the door and entered. A candle, wasted -to the very socket, stood upon a table beside the huge hearse-like bed, -which, for the convenience of the invalid, had been removed from his -bed-chamber to his dressing-room. The light was dim, and waved -uncertainly in the eddies which found their way through the chinks of -the window, so that the lights and shadows flitted ambiguously across -the objects in the room. At the end of the bed a table had been upset; -and lying near it upon the floor was some-thing--a heap of bed-clothes, -or--could it be?--yes, it _was_ Sir Richard Ashwoode. - -Parncci approached the prostrate figure: it was lying upon its back, -the countenance fixed and livid, the eyes staring and glazed, and the -jaw fallen--he was a corpse. The Italian stooped down and took the hand -of the dead man--it was already cold; he called him by his name and -shook him, but all in vain. There lay the cunning intriguer, the -fierce, fiery prodigal, the impetuous, unrelenting tyrant, the -unbelieving, reckless man of the world, a ghastly lump of clay. - - [Illustration: "Parucci approached the prostate figure." - _To face page 156._] - -With strange emotions the Neapolitan gazed upon the lifeless effigy -from which the evil tenant had been so suddenly and fearfully called to -its eternal and unseen abode. - -"Gone--dead--all over--all past," muttered he, slowly, while he pressed -his foot upon the dead body, as if to satisfy himself that life was -indeed extinct--"quite gone. _Canchero!_ it was ugly death--there was -something with him; what was he speaking with?" - -Parucci walked to the door leading to the great staircase, but found it -bolted as usual. - -"Pshaw! there was nothing," said he, looking fearfully round the room -as he approached the body again, and repeating the negative as if to -reassure himself--"no, no--nothing, nothing." - -He gazed again on the awful spectacle in silence for several minutes. - -"_Corbezzoli_, and so it _is_ over," at length he ejaculated--"the game -is ended. See, see, the breast is bare, and there the two marks of -Aldini's stiletto. Ah! _briccone_, _briccone_, what wild faylow were -you--_panzanera_, for a pretty ankle and a pair of black eyes, you -would dare the devil. _Rotto di collo_, his face is moving!--pshaw! it -is only the light that wavers. _Diamine!_ the face is terrible. What -made him speak? nothing was with him--pshaw! nothing could come to him -here--no, no, nothing." - -As he thus spoke, the wind swept vehemently upon the windows with a -sound as if some great thing had rushed, against them, and was pressing -for admission, and the gust blew out the candle; the blast died away in -a lengthened wail, and then again came rushing and howling up to the -windows, as if the very prince of the powers of the air himself were -thundering at the casement; then again the blue dazzling lightning -glared into the room and gave place to deeper darkness. - -"Pah! that lightning smells like brimstone. _Sangue d'un dua_, I hear -something in the room." - -Yielding to his terrors, Parucci stumbled to the door opening upon the -great lobby, and with cold and trembling fingers drawing the bolt, -sprang to the stairs and shouted for assistance in a tone which -speedily assembled half the household in the chamber of death. - - - - -CHAPTER XXIX. - -THE CRONES--THE CORPSE, AND THE SHARPER. - - -Haggard, exhausted, and in no very pleasant temper, Henry Ashwoode rode -up the avenue of Morley Court. - -"I shall have a blessed conference with my father," thought he, "when -he learns the fate of the thousand pounds I was to have brought him--a -pleasant interview, by ----. How shall I open it? He'll be no better -than a Bedlamite. By ----, a pretty hot kettle of fish this--but -through it I must flounder as best I may--curse it, what am I afraid -of?" - -Thus muttering, he leaped from the saddle, leaving the well-trained -steed to make his way to the stable, and entered at the half open door. -In the hall he encountered a servant, but was too much occupied by his -own busy reflections to observe the earnest, awe-struck countenance of -the old domestic. - -"Mr. Henry--Mr. Henry--stay, sir--stay--one moment," said the man, -following and endeavouring to detain him. - -Ashwoode, however, without heeding the interruption, hastened by him, -and mounted the stairs with long and rapid strides, resolved not -unnecessarily to defer the interview which he believed must come sooner -or later. He opened Sir Richard's door, and entered the chamber. He -looked round the room for the object of his search in vain; but to his -unmeasured astonishment, beheld instead three old shrivelled hags -seated by the hearth, who all rose upon his entrance, except one, who -was warming something in a saucepan upon the fire, and each and all -resumed respectively the visages of woe which best became the occasion. - -"Eh! How is this? What brings you here, nurse?" exclaimed the young -man, in a tone of startled curiosity. - -The old lady whom he addressed thought it advisable to weep, and -instead of returning any answer, covered her face with her apron, -turned away her head, and shook her palsied hand towards him with a -gesture which was meant to express the mute anguish of unutterable -sorrow. - -"What _is_ it?" said Ashwoode. "Are you all tongue-tied? Speak, some of -you." - -"Oh, musha! musha! the crathur," observed the second witch, with a most -lugubrious shake of the head, "but it is _he_ that's to be pitied. Oh, -wisha--wisha--wiristhroo!" - -"What the d----l ails you? Can't you speak out? Where's my father?" -repeated the young man, with impatient perplexity. - -"With the blessed saints in glory," replied the third hag, giving the -saucepan a slight whisk to prevent the contents from burning, "and if -ever there was an angel on earth, _he_ was one. Well, well, he has his -reward--that's one comfort, sure. The crown of glory, with the holy -apostles--it's _he's_ to be envied--up in heaven, though he wint mighty -suddint, surely." - -This was followed by a kind of semi-dolorous shake of the head, in -which the three old women joined. - -With a hurried step, young Ashwoode strode to the bedside, drew the -curtain, and gazed upon the sharp and fixed features of the corpse, as -it leered with unclosed eyes from among the bed-clothes. It would not -have been easy to analyze the feelings with which he looked upon this -spectacle. A kind of incredulous horror sate upon his compressed -features. He touched the hand, which rested stiffly upon the coverlet, -as if doubtful that the old man, whom he had so long feared and obeyed, -was actually _dead_. The cold, dull touch that met his was not to be -mistaken, and he gazed fixedly with that awful curiosity with which in -death the well-known features of a familiar face are looked on. There -lay the being whose fierce passions had been to him from his earliest -days a source of habitual fear--in childhood, even of terror--henceforth -to be no more to him than a thing which had never been. There lay the -scheming, busy head, but what availed all its calculations and its -cunning now! No more thought or power has it than the cushion on which -it stiffly rests. There lies the proud, worldly, unforgiving, violent -man, a senseless effigy of cold clay--a grim, impassive monument of -the recent presence of the unearthly visitant. - -"It's a beautiful corpse, if the eyes were only shut," observed one of -the crones, approaching; "a purty corpse as ever was stretched." - -"The hands is very handsome entirely," observed another of them, "and -so small, like a lady's." - -"It's himself was the good master," observed the old nurse, with a slow -shake of the head; "the likes of him did not thread in shoe leather. -Oh! but my heart's sore for you this day, Misther Harry." - -Thus speaking, with a good deal of screwing and puckering, she -succeeded in squeezing a tear from one eye, like the last drop from an -exhausted lemon, and suffering it to rest upon her cheek, that it might -not escape observation, she looked round with a most pity-moving visage -upon her companions, and an expression of face which said as plainly as -words, "What a faithful, attached, old creature I am, and how well I -deserve any little token of regard which Sir Richard's will may have -bequeathed me." - -"Ah! then, look at him," said the matron of the saucepan, gazing with -the most touching commiseration upon Henry Ashwoode, "see how he looks -at it. Oh, but it's he that adored him! Oh, the crathur, what will he -do this day? Look at him there--he's an orphan now--God help him." - -"Be off with yourselves, and leave me here," said Henry (now Sir Henry) -Ashwoode, turning sharply upon them. "Send me some one that can speak a -word of sense: call Parucci here, and get out of the room every one of -you--away!" - -With abundance of muttering and grumbling, and many an indignant toss -of the head, and many a dignified sniff, the old women hobbled from the -room; and Henry Ashwoode had hardly been left alone, when the small -private door communicating with Parucci's apartment, opened, and the -valet peeped in. - -"Come in--come in, Jacopo," said the young man; "come in, and close the -door. When did this happen?" - -The Neapolitan recounted briefly the events which we have already -recorded. - -"It was a fit--some sudden seizure," said the young man, glancing at -the features of the corpse. - -"Yes, vary like, vary like," said Parucci; "he used to complain -sometimes that his head was sweeming round, and pains and aches; but -there was something more--something more." - -"What do you mean?--don't speak riddles," said Ashwoode. - -"I mean this, then," replied the Italian; "something came to -him--something was in the room when he died." - -"How do you know that?" inquired the young man. - -"I heard him talking loudly with it," replied he--"talking and praying -it to go away from him." - -"Why did you not come into the room yourself?" asked Ashwoode. - -"So I did, _Diamine_, so I did," replied he. - -"Well, what saw you?" - -"Nothing bote Sir Richard, dead--quite dead; and the far door was -bolted inside, just so as he always used to do; and when the candle -went out, the thing was here again. I heard it myself, as sure as I am -leeving man--I heard it--close up with me--by the body." - -"Tut, tut, man; speak sense. Do you mean to say that anyone talked with -you?" said Ashwoode. - -"I mean this, that something was in the chamber with me beside the dead -man," replied the valet, doggedly. "I heard it with my own ears. -_Zucche!_ I moste 'av been deaf, if I did not hear it. It said 'hish,' -and then again, close up to my face, it said it--'hish, hish,' and -laughed below its breath. Pah! the place smelt of brimstone." - -"In plain terms, then, you believe that the devil was in the room; is -that it?" said Ashwoode, with a ghastly smile of contempt. - -"Oh! no," replied the servant, with a sneer as ghastly; "it was an -angel, of course--an angel from heaven." - -"No more of this folly, sirrah," said Ashwoode, sharply. "Your own -d----d cowardice fills your brain with these fancies. Here, give me the -keys, and show me where the papers are laid. I shall first examine the -cabinets here, and then in the library. Now open this one; and do you -hear, Parucci, not one word of this cock-and-bull story of yours to the -servants. Good God! my brain's unsettled. I can scarcely believe my -father dead--dead," and again he stood by the bedside, and looked upon -the still face of the corpse. - -"We must send for Craven at once," said Ashwoode, turning from the bed; -"I must confer with him; he knows better than anyone else how all my -father's affairs stand. There are some d----d bills out, I believe, but -we'll soon know." - -Having despatched an urgent note to Craven, the insinuating attorney, -to whom we have already introduced the reader, Sir Henry Ashwoode -proceeded roughly to examine the contents of boxes, escritoires, and -cabinets filled with dusty papers, and accompanied and directed in his -search by the Italian. - -"You never heard him mention a will, did you?" inquired the young man. - -The Neapolitan shook his head. - -"You did not know of his making one?" he resumed. - -"No, no, I cannot remember," said the Italian, reflectively; "but," he -added quickly, while a peculiar meaning lit up the piercing eyes which -he turned upon the interrogator--"but do you weesh to _find_ one? Maybe -I could help you to find one." - -"Pshaw! folly; what do you take me for?" retorted Ashwoode, slightly -colouring, in spite of his habitual insensibility, for Parucci was too -intimate with his principles for him to assume ignorance of his -meaning. "Why the devil should I wish to find a will, since I inherit -everything without it?" - -"Signor," said the little man, after an interval of silence, during -which he seemed absorbed in deep reflection, "I have moche to say about -what I shall do with myself, and some things to ask from you. I will -begin and end it here and now--it is best over at once. I have served -Sir Richard there for thirty-four years. I have served him well--vary -well. I have taught him great secrets. I have won great abundance of -good moneys for him; if he was not reech it is not my fault. I attend -him through his sickness; and 'av been his companion for the half of a -long life. What else I 'av done for him I need not count up, but most -of it you know well. Sir Richard is there--dead and gone--the service -is ended, and now I 'av resolved I will go back again to Italy--to -Naples--where I was born. You shall never hear of me any more if you -will do for me one little thing." - -"What is it?--speak out. You want to extort money--is it so?" said -Ashwoode, slowly and sternly. - -"I want," continued the man, with equal distinctness and -deliberateness, "I want one thousand pounds. I do not ask a penny more, -and I will not take a penny less; and if you give me that, I will never -trouble you more with word of mine--you will never hear or see honest -Jacopo Parucci any more." - -"Come, come, Jacopo, that were paying a little too dear, even for such -a luxury," replied Ashwoode. "A thousand pounds! Ha! ha! A modest -request, truly. I half suspect your brain is a little crazed." - -"Remember what I have done--all I have done for him." rejoined the -Italian, coolly. "And above all, remember what I have _not_ done for -him. I could have had him hanged up by the neck--hanged like a dog--but -I never did. Oh! no, never--though not a day went by that I might not -'av brought the house full of officers, and have him away to jail and -get him hanged. Remember all that, signor, and say is it in conscience -too moche?--_rotta di collo!_ It is not half--no, nor quarter so moche -as I ought to ask. No, nor as you ought to give, signor, without me to -ask at all." - -"Parucci, you are either mad or drunk, or take me to be so," said -Ashwoode, who could not feel quite comfortable in disputing the claims -of the Italian, nor secure in provoking his anger. "But at all events, -there is ample time to talk about these matters. We can settle it all -more at our ease in a week or so." - -"No, no, signor. I will have my answer now," replied the man, doggedly. -"Mr. Craven has money now--the money of Miss Mary's land that Sir -Richard got from her. But though the money is there _now_, in a week or -leetle more we will not see moche of it, and my pocket weel remain -aimpty--_corbezzoli!_ am I a fool?" - -"I tell you, Parucci, I will give you no promises now," exclaimed the -young man, vehemently. "Why, d---- it, the blood is hardly cold in the -old man's veins, and you begin to pester me for money. Can't you wait -till he's buried?" - -"Ay--yees--yees--wait till he's buried--and then wait till the -mourning's off--and then wait for something more," said the Neapolitan, -with a sneer, "and so wait on till the money's all spent. No, no, -signor--_corpo di Bacco!_ I will have it now. I will have my answer -now, before Mr. Craven comes--_giuro di Dio_, I _will_ have my answer." - -"Don't talk like a madman, Parucci," replied the young man, angrily. "I -have no money here. I will make no promises. And besides, your request -is perfectly ridiculous and unconscionable." - -"I ask for a thousand pounds," replied the valet. "I must have the -promise _now_, signor, and the money to-day. If you do not promise it -here and at once, I will not ask again, and maybe you weel be sorry. I -will take one thousand pounds. I want no more, and I accept no less. -Signor, your answer." - -There was a cool, menacing insolence in the manner of the fellow which -stung the pride of the young baronet to the quick. - -"Scoundrel," said he, "do you think I am to be bullied by your -audacious threats? Do you dream that I am weak enough to suffer a -wretch like you to practise his extortions upon me? By ----, you'll -find to your cost that you have no longer to deal with a master who is -in your power. What care I for your utmost? Do your worst, miscreant--I -defy you. I warn you only to beware of giving an undue license to your -foul, lying tongue--for if I find that you have been spreading your -libellous tales abroad, I'll have you pilloried and whipped." - -"Well, you 'av given me an answer," replied the Italian coolly. "I weel -ask no more; and now, signor, farewell--adieu. I think, perhaps, you -will hear of me again. I will not return here any more after I go out; -and so, for the last time," he continued, approaching the cold form -which lay upon the bed, "farewell to you, Sir Richard Ashwoode. While I -am alive I will never see your face again--perhaps, if holy friars tell -true, we may meet again. Till then--till then--farewell." - -With this strange speech the Neapolitan, having gazed for a brief -space, with a strange expression, in which was a dash of something very -nearly approaching to sorrow, upon the stern, moveless face before him, -and then with an effort, and one long-drawn sigh, having turned away, -deliberately withdrew from the room through the small door which led to -his own apartment. - -"The lazzarone will come to himself in a little," muttered Ashwoode; -"he will think twice before he leaves this place--he'll cool--he'll -cool." - -Thus soliloquizing, the young man locked up the presses and desks which -he had opened, bolted the door after the Italian, and hurried from the -room; for, somehow or other, he felt uneasy and fearful alone in the -chamber with the body. - - - - -CHAPTER XXX. - -SKY-COPPER COURT. - - -Upon the evening of the same day, the Italian having collected together -the few movables which he called his own, and left them ready for -removal in the chamber which he had for so long exclusively occupied, -might have been seen, emerging from the old manor-house, and with a -small parcel in his hand, wending his solitary, moon-lit way across the -broad wooded pasture-lands of Morley Court. Without turning to look -back upon the familiar scene, which he was now for ever leaving--for -all his faculties and feelings, such as they were, had busy occupation -in the measures of revenge which he was keenly pursuing, he crossed the -little stile which terminated the pathway he was following, and -descended upon the public road--shaking from his hat and cloak the -heavy drops, which in his progress the close underwood through which he -brushed had shed upon him. With a quickened pace, and with a stern, -almost a savage countenance, over which from time to time there flitted -a still more ominous smile, and muttering between his teeth many a -short and vehement apostrophe as he went, he held his way directly -toward the city of Dublin; and once within the streets, he was not long -in reaching the ancient, and by this time to the reader, familiar -mansion, over whose portal swung the glittering sign of the "Cock and -Anchor." - -"Now, then," thought Parucci, "let us see whether I have not one card -left, and that a trump. What, because I wear no sword myself, shall you -escape unpunished? Fool--miscreant, I will this night conjure up such -an avenger as will appal even you; I will send him with a thousand -atrocious wrongs upon his head, frantic into your presence--you had -better cope with an actual incarnate demon." - -Such were the exulting thoughts which lighted the features of Parucci -with a fitful smile of singular grimness as he entered the inn yard, -where meeting one of the waiters, he promptly inquired for O'Connor. To -his dismay, however, he learnt that that gentleman had quitted the -"Cock and Anchor" on the day before, and whither he had gone, none -could inform him. As he stood, pondering in bitter disappointment what -step was next to be taken, somebody tapped his shoulder smartly from -behind. He turned, and beheld the square form and swarthy features of -O'Hanlon, whose interview with O'Connor is recorded early in these -pages. After a few brief questions and answers, in which, by a -reference to the portly proprietor of the "Cock and Anchor," who -vouched for the accuracy of his representations, O'Hanlon satisfied the -vindictive foreigner that he might safely communicate the subject of -his intended communication to _him_, as to the sure friend of Mr. -O'Connor. Both personages, Parucci and O'Hanlon--or, as he was there -called, Dwyer--repaired to a private room, where they remained closeted -for fully half an hour. That interview had its consequences--consequences -of which sooner or later the reader shall fully hear, and which were -perhaps somewhat unlike those calculated upon by honest Jacopo. - -It is not necessary to detain the reader with a description of the -ceremonial which conducted the mortal remains of Sir Henry Ashwoode to -the grave. It is enough to say that if pomp and pageantry, lavished -upon the fleeting tenement of clay which it has deserted, can delight -the departed spirit, that of the deceased baronet was happy. The -funeral was an aristocratic procession, well worthy of the rank and -pretensions of the distinguished dead, and in numbers and _éclat_ such -as to satisfy even the exactions of Irish pride. - -Carriages and four were there in abundance, and others of lesser note -without number. Outriders, and footmen, and corpulent coachmen filled -the court and avenue of the manor, and crowded its hall, where -refreshments enough for a garrison were heaped together upon the -tables. The funeral feasting and revelry finished, the enormous mob of -coaches, horses, and lacqueys began to arrange itself, and assume -something like order. The great velvet-covered coffin was carried out -upon the shoulders of six footmen, staggering under the leaden load, -and was laid in the hearse. The high-born company, dressed in the -fantastic trappings of mourning, began to show themselves one by one, -or in groups, at the hall-door, and took their places in their -respective vehicles; and at length the enormous volume began to uncoil, -and gradually passing down the great avenue, and winding along the -road, to proceed toward the city, covering from the coffin to the last -carriage a space of more than a mile in length. - -The body was laid in the aisle of St. Audoen's Church, and a comely -monument, recording in eloquent periods the virtues of the deceased, -was reared by the piety of his son. The aisle, however, in which it -stood, is now a rootless ruin; and this, along with many a more curious -relic, has crumbled into dust from its time-worn wall: so that there -now remains, except in these idle pages, no record to tell posterity -that so important a personage as Sir Richard Ashwoode ever existed at -all. - -Of all who donned "the customary suit of solemn black" upon the death -of Sir Richard Ashwoode, but one human being felt a pang of sorrow. But -there _was_ one whose grief was real and poignant--one who mourned for -him as though he had been all that was fond and tender--who forgot and -forgave all his faults and failings, and remembered only that he had -been her father and she his child, and companion, and gentle, patient -nurse-tender through many an hour of pain and sickness. Mary wept for -his death bitterly for many a day and night; for all that he had ever -done or said to give her pain, her noble nature found entire -forgiveness, and every look, and smile, and word, and tone that had -ever borne the semblance of kindness, were all treasured in her memory, -and all called up again in affectionate and sorrowful review. Seldom -indeed had the hard nature of Sir Richard evinced even such transient -indications of tenderness, and when they did appear they were still -more rarely genuine. But Mary felt that an object of her kindly care -and companionship was gone--a familiar face for ever hidden--one of the -only two who were near to her in the ties of blood, departed to return -no more, and with all the deep, strong yearnings of kindred, she wept -and mourned after her father. - -Emily Copland had left Morley Court and was now residing with her gay -relative, Lady Stukely, so that poor Mary was left almost entirely -alone, and her brother, Sir Henry, was so immersed in business and -papers that she scarcely saw him even for a moment except while he -swallowed his hasty meals; and sooth to say, his thoughts were not much -oftener with her than his person. - -Though, as the reader is no doubt fully aware, Sir Henry's grief for -the loss of his parent was by no means of that violent kind which -refuses to be comforted, yet he was too chary of the world's opinion, -as well as too punctilious an observer of etiquette, to make the -cheerfulness of his resignation under this dispensation startlingly -apparent by any overt act of levity or indifference. Sir Henry, -however, must see Gordon Chancey; he must ascertain how much he owes -him, and when it is all payable--facts of which he has, if any, the -very dimmest and vaguest possible recollection. Therefore, upon the -very day on which the funeral had taken place, as soon as the evening -had closed, and darkness succeeded the twilight, the young baronet -ordered his trusty servant to bring the horses to the door, and then -muffling himself in his cloak, and drawing it about his face, so that -even in the reflection of an accidental link he might not by -possibility be recognized, he threw himself into the saddle, and -telling his servant to follow him, rode rapidly through the dense -obscurity towards the town. - -When he had reached Whitefriar Street, he checked his pace to a walk, -and calling his attendant to his side, directed him to await his return -there; then dismounting, he threw him the bridle, and proceeded upon -his way. Guided by the hazy starlight and by an occasional gleam from a -shop-window or tavern-door, as well as by the dusky glimmer of the -wretched street lamps, the young man directed his course for some way -along the open street, and then turning to the right into a dark -archway which opened from it, he found himself in a small, square -court, surrounded by tall, dingy, half-ruinous houses which loomed -darkly around, deepening the shadows of the night into impenetrable -gloom. From some of these dilapidated tenements issued smothered sounds -of quarrelling, indistinctly mingled with the crying of children and -the shrill accents of angry females; from others the sounds of -discordant singing and riotous carousal; while, as far as the eye could -discern, few places could have been conceived with an aspect more -dreary, forbidding, and cut-throat, and, in all respects, more -depressing and suspicious. - -"This is unquestionably the place," exclaimed Ashwoode, as he stepped -cautiously over the broken pavement; "there is scarcely another like it -in this town or any other; but beshrew me if I remember which is the -house." - -He entered one of them, the hall-door of which stood half open, and -through the chinks of whose parlour-door were issuing faint streams of -light and gruff sounds of talking. At one of these doors he knocked -sharply with his whip-handle, and instantly the voices were hushed. -After a silence of a minute or two, the parties inside resumed their -conversation, and Ashwoode more impatiently repeated his summons. - -"There _is_ someone knocking--I tould you there was," exclaimed a harsh -voice from within. "Open the doore, Corny, and take a squint." - -The door opened cautiously; a great head, covered with shaggy -elf-locks, was thrust through the aperture, and a singularly -ill-looking face, as well as the imperfect light would allow Ashwoode -to judge, was advanced towards his. The fellow just opened the door far -enough to suffer the ray of the candle to fall upon the countenance of -his visitant, and staring suspiciously into his face for some time, -while he held the lock of the door in his hand, he asked,-- - -"Well, neighbour, did you rap at this doore?" - -"Yes, I want to be directed to Mr. Chancey's rooms." replied Ashwoode. - -"Misthur who?" repeated the man. - -"Mr. Chancey--_Chancey_: he lives in this court, and, unless I am -mistaken, in this house, or the next to it," rejoined Ashwoode. - -"_Chancey_: I don't know him," answered the man. "Do _you_ know where -Mr. Chancey lives, Garvey?" - -"Not I, nor don't care," rejoined the person addressed, with a hoarse -growl, and without taking the trouble to turn from the fire, over which -he was cowering, with his back toward the door. "Slap the _doore_ to, -can't you? and don't keep gostherin' there all night." - -"No, he won't slap the doore," exclaimed the shrill voice of a female. -"I'll see the gentleman myself. Well, sir," she cried, presenting a -tall, raw-boned figure, arrayed in tawdry rags, at the door, and -shoving the man with the unkempt locks aside, she eyed Ashwoode with a -leer and a grin that were anything but inviting--"well, sir, is there -anything I can do for you. The chaps here is not used to quality, an' -Pather has a mighty ignorant manner; but they are placible boys, an' -manes no offence. Who is it you're lookin' for, sir?" - -"Mr. Gordon Chancey: he lives in one of these houses. Can you direct me -to him?" - -"No, we can't," said the fellow from the fire, in a savage tone. "I -tould you before. Won't you _take_ your answer--won't you? Slap that -_doore_, Corny, or I'll get up to him myself." - -"Hould your tongue, you gaol bird, won't you?" rejoined the female, in -accents of shrill displeasure. "_Chancey!_ is not he the counsellor -gentleman; he has a yallow face an' a down look, and never has his -hands out of his breeches' pockets?" - -"The very man," replied Ashwoode. - -"Well, sir, _he does_ live in this court: he has the parlour next -doore. The street _doore_ stands open--it's a lodging-house. One doore -further on; you can't miss him." - -"Thank you, thank you," said Ashwoode. "Good-night." And as the door -was closed upon him, he heard the voices of those within raised in hot -debate. - -He stumbled and groped his way into the hall of the house which the -gracious nymph, to whom he had just bidden farewell, indicated, and -knocked stoutly at the parlour-door. It was opened by a sluttish girl, -with bare feet, and a black eye, which had reached the green and yellow -stage of recovery. She had probably been interrupted in the midst of a -spirited altercation with the barrister, for ill humour and excitement -were unequivocally glowing in her face. - -Ashwoode walked in, and found matters as we shall describe them in the -next chapter. - - - - -CHAPTER XXXI. - -THE USURER AND THE OAKEN BOX. - - -The room which Sir Henry Ashwoode entered was one of squalid disorder. -It was a large apartment, originally handsomely wainscoted, but damp -and vermin had made woeful havoc in the broad panels, and the ceiling -was covered with green and black blotches of mildew. No carpet covered -the bare boards, which were strewn with fragments of papers, rags, -splinters of an old chest, which had been partially broken up to light -the fire, and occasionally a potato-skin, a bone, or an old shoe. The -furniture was scant, and no one piece matched the other. Little and bad -as it was, its distribution about the room was more comfortless and -wretched still. All was dreary disorder, dust, and dirt, and damp, and -mildew, and rat-holes. - -By a large grate, scarcely half filled with a pile of ashes and a few -fragments of smouldering turf, sat Gordon Chancey, the master of this -notable establishment; his arm rested upon a dirty deal table, and his -fingers played listlessly with a dull and battered pewter goblet, which -he had just replenished from a two-quart measure of strong beer which -stood upon the table, and whose contents had dabbled that piece of -furniture with sundry mimic lakes and rivers. Unrestrained by the -ungenerous confinement of a fender, the cinders strayed over the -cracked hearthstone, and even wandered to the boards beyond it. Mr. -Gordon Chancey was himself, too, rather in deshabille. He had thrown -off his shoes, and was in his stockings, which were unfortunately -rather imperfect at the extremities. His waistcoat was unbuttoned, and -his cravat lay upon the table, swimming in a sea of beer. As Ashwoode -entered, with ill-suppressed disgust, this loathly den, the object of -his visit languidly turned his head and his sleepy eyes over his -shoulder, in the direction of the door, and without making the smallest -effort to rise, contented himself with extending his hand along the -sloppy table, palm upwards, for Ashwoode to shake, at the same time -exclaiming, with a drawl of gentle placidity,-- - -"Oh, dear--oh, dear me! Mr. Ashwoode, I declare to God I am very glad -to see you. Won't you sit down and have some beer? Eliza, bring a cup -for my friend, Mr. Ashwoode. Will you take a pipe too? I have some -elegant tobacco. Bring _my_ pipe to Mr. Ashwoode, and the little -canister that M'Quirk left here last night." - -"I am much obliged to you," said Ashwoode, with difficulty swallowing -his anger, and speaking with marked _hauteur_, "my visit, though an -unseasonable one, is entirely one of business. I shall not give you the -trouble of providing any refreshment for me; in a word, I have neither -time nor appetite for it. I want to learn exactly how you and I stand: -five minutes will show me the state of the account." - -"Oh, dear--oh, dear! and won't you take any beer, then? it's elegant -beer, from Mr. M'Gin's there, round the corner." - -Ashwoode bit his lips, and remained silent. - -"Eliza, bring a chair for my friend, Sir Henry Ashwoode," continued -Chancey; "he must be very tired--indeed he must, after his long walk; -and here, Eliza, take the key and open the press, and do you see, bring -me the little oak box on the second shelf. She's a very good little -girl, Mr. Ashwoode, I assure you. Eliza is a very sensible, good little -girl. Oh, dear!--oh, dear! but your father's death was very sudden; but -old chaps always goes off that way, on short notice. Oh, dear me!--I -declare to ----, only I had a pain in my--(here he mentioned his lower -stomach somewhat abruptly)--I'd have gone to the funeral this morning. -There was a great lot of coaches, wasn't there?" - -"Pray, Mr. Chancey," said Ashwoode, preserving his temper with an -effort, "let us proceed at once to business. I am pressed for time, and -I shall be glad, with as little delay as possible, to ascertain--what I -suppose there can be no difficulty in learning--the exact state of our -account." - -"Well, I'm very sorry, so I am, Mr. Ashwoode, that you are in such a -hurry--I declare to ---- I am," observed Chancey, supplying big goblet -afresh from the larger measure. "Eliza, have you the box? Well, bring -it here, and put it down on the table, like an elegant little girl." - -The girl shoved a small oaken chest over to Chancey's elbow; and he -forthwith proceeded to unlock it, and to draw forth the identical red -leather pocket-book which had received in its pages the records of -Ashwoode's disasters upon the evening of their last meeting. - -"Here I have them. Captain Markham--no, that is not it," said Chancey, -sleepily turning over the leaves; "but this is it, Mr. Ashwoode--ay, -here; first, two hundred pounds, promissory note--payable one week -after date. Mr. Ashwoode, again, one hundred and fifty--promissory -note--one week. Lord Kilblatters--no--ay, here again--Mr. Ashwoode, two -hundred--promissory note--one week. Mr. Ashwoode, two hundred and -fifty--promissory note--one week. Mr. Ashwoode, one hundred; Mr. -Ashwoode, fifty. Oh, dear me! dear me! Mr. Ashwoode, three hundred." -And so on, till it appeared that Sir Henry Ashwoode stood indebted to -Gordon Chancey, Esq., in the sum of six thousand four hundred and fifty -pounds, for which he had passed promissory notes which would all become -due in two days' time. - -"I suppose," said Ashwoode, "these notes have hardly been negotiated. -Eh?" - -"Oh, dear me! No--oh, no, Mr. Ashwoode," replied Chancey. "They have -not gone out of my desk. I would not put them into the hands of a -stranger for any trifling advantage to myself. Oh, dear me! not at -all." - -"Well, then, I suppose you can renew them for a fortnight or so, or -hold them over--eh?" asked Ashwoode. - -"I'm sure I can," rejoined Chancey. "The bills belong to the old -cripple that lent the money; and _he_ does whatever I bid him. He -trusts it all to me. He gives me the trouble, and takes the profit -himself. Oh! he _does_ confide in me. I have only to say the word, and -it's done. They shall be renewed or held over as often as you wish. -Indeed, I can answer for it. Dear me, it would be very hard if I could -not." - -"Well, then, Mr. Chancey," replied Ashwoode, "I may require it, or I -may not. Craven has the promise of a large sum of money, within two or -three days--part of the loan he has already gotten. Will you favour me -with a call on to-morrow afternoon at Morley Court. I will then have -heard definitely from Craven, and can tell you whether I require time -or not." - -"Very good, sir--very fair, indeed, Mr. Ashwoode. Nothing fairer," -rejoined the lawyer. "But don't give yourself any uneasiness. Oh, dear, -on no account; for I declare to ---- I would hold them over as long as -you like. Oh, dear me--indeed but I would. Well, then, I'll call out at -about four o'clock." - -"Very good, Mr. Chancey," replied Ashwoode. "I shall expect you. -Meanwhile, good-night." So they separated. - -The young baronet reached his ancestral dwelling without adventure of -any kind, and Mr. Gordon Chancey poured out the last drops of beer from -the inverted can into his pewter cup, and draining it calmly, anon -buttoned his waistcoat, shook the wet from his cravat, and tied it on, -thrust his feet into his shoes, and flinging his cocked hat carelessly -upon his head, walked forth in deep thought into the street, whistling -a concerto of his own invention. - - - - -CHAPTER XXXII. - -THE DIABOLIC WHISPER. - - -Gordon Chancey sauntered in his usual lazy, lounging way, with his -hands in his pockets, down the street. After a listless walk of -half-an-hour he found himself at the door of a handsome house, in the -immediate neighbourhood of the Castle. He knocked, and was admitted by -a servant in full livery. - -"Is he in the same room?" inquired Chancey. - -"Yes, sir," replied the man; and without further parley, the learned -counsel proceeded upstairs, and knocked at the drawing-room door, -which, without waiting for any answer, he forthwith opened. - -Nicholas Blarden--with two ugly black plaisters across his face, his -arm in a sling, and his countenance bearing in abundance the livid -marks of his late rencounter--stood with his back to the fire-place; a -table, blazing with wax-lights, and stored with glittering wine-flasks -and other matters, was placed at a little distance before him. As the -man of law entered the room, the countenance of the invalid relaxed -into an ugly grin of welcome. - -"Well, Gordy, boy, how goes the game? Out with your news, old -rat-catcher," said Blarden, in high good humour. - -"Dear me, dear me! but the night is mighty chill, Mr. Blarden," -observed Chancey, filling a glass of wine to the brim, and sipping it -uninvited. "News," he continued, letting himself drop into a -chair--"news; well, there's not much stirring worth telling you." - -"Come, what _is_ it? You're not come here for nothing, old fox," -rejoined Blarden, "I know by the ---- twinkle in the corner of your -eye." - -"Well, _he_ has been with me, just now," drawled Chancey. - -"Ashwoode?" - -"Yes." - -"Well! what does he want--what does he want, eh?" asked Blarden, with -intense excitement. - -"He says he'll want time for the notes," replied Chancey. - -"God be thanked!" ejaculated Blarden, and followed this ejaculation -with a ferocious burst of laughter. "We'll have him, Chancey, boy, if -only we know how to play him--by ----, we'll have him, as sure as -there's heat in hell." - -"Well, maybe we will," rejoined Chancey. - -"Does he say he can't pay them on the day?" asked Blarden, exultingly. - -"No; he says _maybe_ he can't," replied the jackal. - -"That's all one," cried Blarden. "What do you think? Do you think he -can?" - -"I think maybe he can, if we _squeeze_ him," replied Chancey. - -"Then _don't_ squeeze him--he must not get out of our books on any -terms--we'll lose him if he does," said Nicholas. - -"We'll not renew the notes, but hold them over," said Chancey. "He must -not feel them till he _can't_ pay them. We'll make them sit light on -him till then--give him plenty of line for a while--rope enough and a -little patience--and the devil himself can't keep him out of the -noose." - -"You're right--you _are_, Gordy, boy," rejoined Blarden. "Let him get -through the ready money first--eh?--and then into the stone jug with -him--we'll just choose our own time for striking." - -"I tell you what it is, if you are just said and led by me, you'll have -a _quare_ hold on him before three months are past and gone," said -Chancey, lazily--"mind I tell you, you will." - -"Well, Gordy, boy, fill again--fill again--here's success to you." - -Chancey filled, and quaffed his bumper, with, a matter-of-fact, -business-like air. - -"And do you mind me, boy," continued Blarden, "spare _nothing_ in this -business--bring Ashwoode entirely under my knuckle--and, by ----, I'll -make it a great job for you." - -"Indeed--indeed but I will, Mr. Blarden, if I can," rejoined Chancey; -"and I _think_ I can--I think I know a way, so I do, to get a _halter_ -round his neck--do you mind?--and leave the rope's end in your hand, to -hang him or not, as you like." - -"To _hang_ him!" echoed Blarden, like one who hears something too good -to be true. - -"Yes, to hang him by the neck till he's dead--dead--dead," repeated -Chancey, imperturbably. - -"How the blazes will you do it?" demanded the wretch, anxiously. "Pish, -it's all prate and vapour." - -Gordon Chancey stole a suspicious glance round the room from the corner -of his eye, and then suffering his gaze to rest sleepily upon the fire -once more, he stretched out one of his lank arms, and after a little -uncertain groping, succeeding in grasping the collar of his companion's -coat, and drawing his head down toward him. Blarden knew Mr. Chancey's -way, and without a word, lowered his ear to that gentleman's mouth, who -forthwith whispered something into it which produced a marked effect -upon Mr. Blarden. - -"If you do _that_," replied he with ferocious exultation, "by ----, -I'll make your fortune for you at a slap." - -And so saving, he struck his hand with heavy emphasis upon the -barrister's shoulder, like a man who clenches a bargain. - -"Well, Mr. Blarden," replied Chancey, in the same drowsy tone, "as I -said before, I declare it's my opinion I can, so it is--I think I can." - -"And so do _I_ think you can--by ----, I'm _sure_ of it," exclaimed -Blarden triumphantly; "but take some more--more wine, won't you? take -some more, and stay a bit, can't you?" - -Chancey had made his way to the door with his usual drowsy gait; and, -passing out without deigning any answer or word of farewell, stumbled -lazily downstairs. There was nothing odd, however, in this -leave-taking; it was Chancey's way. - -"We'll do it, and easily too," muttered Blarden with a grin of -exultation. "I never knew him fail--that fellow is worth a mine. Ho! -ho! Sir Henry, beware--beware. Egad, you had better keep a bright -look-out. It's rather late for green goslings to look to their necks, -when the fox claps his nose in the poultry-yard." - - - - -CHAPTER XXXIII. - -SHOWING HOW SIR HENRY ASHWOODE PLAYED AND PLOTTED--AND OF THE SUDDEN -SUMMONS OF GORDON CHANCEY. - - -Henry Ashwoode was but too anxious to avail himself of the indulgence -offered by Gordon Chancey. With the immediate urgency of distress, any -thoughts of prudence or retrenchment which may have crossed his mind -vanished, and along with the command of new resources came new wants -and still more extravagant prodigality. His passion for gaming was now -indulged without restraint, and almost without the interruption of a -day. For a time his fortune rallied, and sums, whose amount would -startle credulity, flowed into his hands, only to be lost and -squandered again in dissipation and extravagance, which grew but the -wilder and more reckless, in proportion as the sources which supplied -them were temporarily increased. At length, after some coquetting, the -giddy goddess again deserted him. Night after night brought new and -heavier disasters; and with this reverse of fortune came its invariable -accompaniment--a wilder and more daring recklessness, and a more -unmeasured prodigality in hazarding larger and larger sums; as if the -victims of ill luck sought, by this frantic defiance, to bully and -browbeat their capricious persecutor into subjection. There was -scarcely an available security of any kind which he had not already -turned into money, and now he began to feel, in downright earnest, the -iron gripe of ruin closing upon him. - -He was changed--in spirit and in aspect changed. The unwearied fire of -a secret fever preyed upon his heart and brain; an untold horror robbed -him of his rest, and haunted him night and day. - -"Brother," said Mary Ashwoode, throwing one hand fondly round his neck, -and with the other pressing his, as he sate moodily, with compressed -lips and haggard face, and eyes fixed upon the floor, in the old -parlour of Morley Court--"dear brother, you are greatly changed; you -are ill; some great trouble weighs upon your mind. Why will you keep -all your cares and griefs from me? I would try to comfort you, whatever -your sorrows may be. Then let me know it all, dear brother; why should -your griefs be hidden from me? Are there not now but the two of us in -the wide world to care for each other?" and as she said this her eyes -filled with tears. - -"You would know what grieves me?" said Ashwoode, after a short silence, -and gazing fixedly in her face, with stern, dilated eyes, and pale -features. He remained again silent for a time, and then uttered the -emphatic word--"_Ruin._" - -"How, dear brother, what has befallen you?" asked the poor girl, -pressing her brother's hand more kindly. - -"I say, we are ruined--both of us. I've lost everything. We are little -better than beggars," replied he. "There's nothing I can call my own," -he resumed, abruptly, after a pause, "but that old place, Incharden. -It's worth next to nothing--bog, rocks, brushwood, old stables, and -all--absolutely nothing. We are ruined--beggared--that's all." - -"Oh! brother, I am glad we have still that dear old place. Oh, let us -go down and live there together, among the quiet glens, and the old -green woods; for amongst its pleasant shades I have known happier times -than shall ever come again for me. I would like to ramble there again -in the pleasant summer time, and hear the birds sing, and the sound of -the rustling leaves, and the clear winding brook, as I used to hear -them long ago. _There_ I could think over many things, that it breaks -my heart to think of here; and you and I, brother, would be always -together, and we would soon be as happy as either of us can be in this -sorrowful world." - -She threw her arms around her brother's neck, and while the tears -flowed fast and silently, she kissed his pale and wasted cheeks again -and again. - -"In the meantime," said Ashwoode, starting up abruptly, and looking at his -watch, "I must go into town, and see some of these harpies--usurers--that -have gotten their fangs in me. It is as well to keep out of jail as long -as one can," and, with a very joyless laugh, he strode from the room. - -As he rode into town, his thoughts again and again recurred to his old -scheme respecting Lady Stukely. - -"It is after all my only chance," said he. "I have made my mind up -fifty times to it, but somehow or other, d----n me, if I could ever -bring myself to _do_ it. That woman will live for five-and-twenty years -to come, and she would as easily part with the control of her property -as with her life. While she lives I must be her dependent--her slave: -there is no use in mincing the matter, I shall not have the command of -a shilling, but as she pleases; but patience--patience, Henry Ashwoode, -sooner or later death _will_ come, and then begins your jubilee." - -As these thoughts hurried through his brain, he checked his horse at -Lady Betty Stukely's door. - -As he traversed the capacious hall, and ascended the handsome -staircase--"Well," thought he, "even _with_ her ladyship, this were -better than the jail." - -In the drawing-room he found Lady Stukely, Emily Copland, and Lord -Aspenly. The two latter evidently deep in a very desperate flirtation, -and her ladyship meanwhile very considerately employed in trying a -piece of music on the spinet. - -The entrance of Sir Henry produced a very manifest sensation among the -little party. Lady Stukely looked charmingly conscious and fluttered. -Emily Copland smiled a gracious welcome, for though she and her -handsome cousin perfectly well understood each other, and both well -knew that marriage was out of the question, they had each, what is -called, a fancy for the other; and Emily, with the unreasonable -jealousy of a woman, felt a kind of soreness, secretly and almost -unacknowledged to herself, at Sir Henry's marked devotion to Lady -Stukely, though, at the same time, no feeling of her own heart, beyond -the lightest and the merest vanity, had ever been engaged in favour of -Henry Ashwoode. Of the whole party, Lord Aspenly alone was a good deal -disconcerted, and no wonder, for he had not the smallest notion upon -what kind of terms he and Henry Ashwoode were to meet;--whether that -young gentleman would shake hands with him as usual, or proceed to -throttle him on the spot. Ashwoode was, however, too completely a man -of the world to make any unnecessary fuss about the awkward affair of -Morley Court; he therefore met the little nobleman with cold and easy -politeness; and, turning from him, was soon engaged in an animated and -somewhat tender colloquy with the love-stricken widow, whose last words -to him, as at length he arose to take his leave, were,-- - -"Remember to-morrow evening, Sir Henry, we shall look for you early; -and you have promised not to disappoint your cousin Emily--has not he, -Emily? I shall positively be affronted with you for a week at least if -you are late. I am very absolute, and never forgive an act of -rebellion. I'm quite a little sovereign here, and very despotic; so you -had better not venture to be naughty." - -Here she raised her finger, and shook it in playful menace at her -admirer. - -Lady Stukely had, however, little reason to doubt his punctuality. If -she had but known the true state of the case she would have been aware -that in literal matter-of-fact she had become as necessary to Sir Henry -Ashwoode as his daily bread. - -Accordingly, next evening Sir Henry Ashwoode was one of the gayest of -the guests in Lady Stukely's drawing-rooms. His resolution was taken; -and he now looked round upon the splendid rooms and all their rich -furniture as already his own. Some chatted, some played cards, some -danced the courtly minuet, and some hovered about from group to group, -without any determinate occupation, and sharing by turns in the -frivolities of all. Ashwoode was, of course, devoted exclusively to his -fair hostess. She was all smiles, and sighs, and bashful coyness; he -all tenderness and fire. In short, he felt that all he wanted at that -moment was the opportunity of asking, to ensure his instantaneous -acceptance. While thus agreeably employed, the young baronet was -interrupted by a footman, who, with a solemn bow, presented a silver -salver, on which was placed an exceedingly dirty and crumpled little -note. Ashwoode instantly recognized the hand in which the address was -written, and snatching the filthy billet from its conspicuous position, -he thrust it into his waistcoat pocket. - -"A messenger, sir, waits for an answer," murmured the servant. - -"Where is he?" - -"He waits in the hall, sir." - -"Then I shall see him in a moment--tell him so," said Ashwoode; and -turning to Lady Stukely, he spoke a few sweet words of gallantry, and -with a forced smile, and casting a longing, lingering look behind, he -glided from the room. - -"So, what can this mean?" muttered he, as he placed himself immediately -under a cluster of lights in the lobby, and hastily drew forth the -crumpled note. He read as follows:-- - - "MY DEAR SIR HENRY,--There is bad news--as bad as can be. Wherever - you are, and whatever you are doing, come on receipt of these, on - the moment, to me. If you don't, you'll be done for to-morrow; so - come at once. Bobby M'Quirk will hand you these, and if you follow - him, will bring you where I am now. I am desirous to serve you, and - if the art of man can do it, to keep you out of this pickle. - - "Your obedient, humble servant, - - "GORDON CHANCEY." - - "N.B.--It is about these infernal notes, so come quickly." - -Through this production did Ashwoode glance with no very enviable -feelings; and tearing the note into the very smallest possible pieces, -he ran downstairs to the hall, where he found the aristocratic Mr. -M'Quirk, with his chin as high as ever, marching up and down with a -free and easy swagger, and one arm akimbo, and whistling the while an -air of martial defiance. - -"Did you bring a note to me just now?" inquired Ashwoode. - -"I have had that pleasure," replied M'Quirk, with an aristocratic air. -"I presume I am addressed by Sir Henry Ashwoode, baronet. _I_ am Mr. -M'Quirk--Mr. Robert M'Quirk. Sir Henry, I kiss your hands--proud of the -honour of your acquaintance." - -"Is Mr. Chancey at his own lodging now?" inquired Ashwoode, without -appearing to hear the speeches which M'Quirk thought proper to deliver. - -"Why, no," replied the little gentleman. "Our friend Chancey is just -now swigging his pot of beer, and smoking his pen'orth of pigtail in -the "Old Saint Columbkil," in Ship Street--a comfortable house, Sir -Henry, as any in Dublin, and very cheap--cheap as dirt, sir. A Welsh -rarebit, one penny; a black pudding, and neat cut of bread, and three -leeks, for--how much do you guess?" - -"Have the goodness to conduct me to Mr. Chancey, wherever he is," said -Ashwoode drily. "I will follow--go on, sir." - -"Well, Sir Henry, I'm your man--I'm your man--glad of your company, Sir -Henry," exclaimed the insinuating Bobby M'Quirk; and following his -voluble conductor in obstinate silence, Sir Henry Ashwoode found -himself, after a dark and sloppy walk, for the first, though not for -the last time in his life, under the roof tree of the "Old Saint -Columbkil." - - - - -CHAPTER XXXIV. - -THE "OLD ST. COLUMBKIL"--A TÊTE-À-TÊTE IN THE "ROYAL RAM"--THE TEMPTER. - - -The "Old Saint Columbkil" was a sort of low sporting tavern frequented -chiefly by horse-jockeys, cock-fighters, and dog-fanciers; it had its -cock-pits, and its badger-baits, and an unpretending little "hell" of -its own; and, in short, was deficient in none of the attractions most -potent in alluring such company as it was intended to receive. - -As Ashwoode, preceded by his agreeable companion, made his way into the -low-roofed and irregular chamber, his senses were assailed by the thick -fumes of tobacco, the reek of spirits, and the heavy steams of the hot -dainties which ministered to the refined palates of the patrons of the -"Old Saint Columbkil;" and through the hazy atmosphere, seated at a -table by himself, and lighted by a solitary tallow candle with a -portentous snuff, and canopied in the clouds of tobacco smoke which he -himself emitted, Gordon Chancey was dimly discernible. - -"Ah! dear me, dear me. I'm right glad to see you--I declare to ----, I -am, Mr. Ashwoode," said that eminent barrister, when the young -gentleman had reached his side. "Indeed, I was thinking it was maybe -too late to see you to-night, and that things would have to go on. Oh, -dear me, but it's a regular Providence, so it is. You'd have been up in -lavender to-morrow, as sure as eggs is eggs. I'm gladder than a crown -piece, upon my soul, I am." - -"Don't talk of business here; cannot we have some place to ourselves -for five minutes, out of this stifling pig-sty. I can't bear the place; -besides, we shall be overheard," urged Ashwoode. - -"Well, and that's very true," assented Chancey, gently, "very true, so -it is; we'll get a small room above. You'll have to pay an extra -sixpenny bit for it though, but what signifies the matter of that? -M'Quirk, ask old Pottles if 'Noah's Ark' is empty--either that or the -'Royal Ram'--run, Bobby." - -"I have something else to do, Mr. Chancey," replied Mr. M'Quirk, with -_hauteur_. - -"Run, Bobby, run, man," repeated Chancey, tranquilly. - -"Run yourself," retorted M'Quirk, rebelliously. - -Chancey looked at him for a moment to ascertain by his visible aspect -whether he had actually uttered the audacious suggestion, and reading -in the red face of the little gentleman nothing but the most refractory -dispositions, he said with a low, dogged emphasis which experience had -long taught Mr. M'Quirk to respect,-- - -"Are you at your tricks again? D---- you, you blackguard, if you stand -prating there another minute, I'll open your head with this pot--be -off, you scoundrel." - -The learned counsel enforced his eloquence by knocking the pewter pot -with an emphatic clang upon the table. - -All the aristocratic blood of the M'Quirks mounted to the face of the -gentleman thus addressed; he suffered the noble inundation, however, to -subside, and after some hesitation, and one long look of unutterable -contempt, which Chancey bore with wonderful stoicism, he yielded to -prudential considerations, as he had often done before, and proceeded -to execute his orders. - -The effect was instantaneous--Pottles himself appeared. A short, stout, -asthmatic man was Pottles, bearing in his thoughtful countenance an -ennobling consciousness that human society would feel it hard to go on -without him, and carrying in his hand a soiled napkin, or rather clout, -with which he wiped everything that came in his way, his own forehead -and nose included. - -With pompous step and wheezy respiration did Pottles conduct his -honoured guests up the creaking stairs and into the "Royal Ram." He -raked the embers in the fire-place, threw on a piece of turf, and -planting the candle which he carried upon a table covered with slop and -pipe ashes, he wiped the candlestick, and then his own mouth carefully -with his dingy napkin, and asked the gentlemen whether they desired -anything for supper. - -"No, no, we want nothing but to be left to ourselves for ten or fifteen -minutes," said Ashwoode, placing a piece of money upon the table. "Take -this for the use of the room, and leave us." - -The landlord bowed and pocketed the coin, wheezed and bowed again, and -then waddled magnificently out of the room. Ashwoode got up and closed -the door after him, and then returning, drew his chair opposite to -Chancey's, and in a low tone asked,-- - -"Well, what is all this about?" - -"All about them notes, nothing else," replied Chancey, calmly. - -"Go on--what of them?" urged Ashwoode. - -"Can you pay them all to-morrow morning?" inquired Chancey, tranquilly. - -"To-morrow!" exclaimed Ashwoode. "Why, hell and death, man, you -promised to hold them over for three months. To-morrow! By ----, you -must be joking," and as he spoke his face turned pale as ashes. - -"I told you all along, Mr. Ashwoode," said Chancey drowsily, "that the -money was not my own; I'm nothing more than an agent in the matter, and -the notes are in the desk of that old bed-ridden cripple that lent it. -D----n him, he's as full of fumes and fancies as old cheese is of -maggots. He has taken it into his head that your paper is not safe, and -the devil himself won't beat it out of him; and the long and the short -of it is, Mr. Ashwoode, he's going to arrest you to-morrow." - -In vain Ashwoode strove to hide his agitation--he shook like a man in -an ague. - -"Good heavens! and is there no way of preventing this? Make him wait -for a week--for a day," said Ashwoode. - -"Was not I speaking to him ten times to-day--ay, twenty times," replied -Chancey, "trying to make him wait even for one day? Why, I'm hoarse -talking to him, and I might just as well be speaking to Patrick's -tower; so make your mind up to this. As sure as light, you'll be in -gaol before to-morrow's past, unless you either settle it early some -way or other, or take leg bail for it." - -"See, Chancey, I may as well tell you this," said Ashwoode, "before a -fortnight, perhaps before a week, I shall have the means of satisfying -these damned notes beyond the possibility of failure. Won't he hold -them over for so long?" - -"I might as well be asking him to cut out his tongue and give it to me -as to allow us even a day; he has heard of different accidents that has -happened to some of your paper lately--and the long and the short of it -is--he won't hear of it, nor hold them over one hour more than he can -help. I declare to ----, Mr. Ashwoode, I am very sorry for your -distress, so I am--but you say you'll have the money in a week?" - -"Ay, ay, ay, so I shall, _if_ he don't arrest me," replied Ashwoode; -"but if he does, my perdition's sealed; I shall lie in gaol till I rot; -but, curse it, can't the idiot see this?--if he waits a week or so -he'll get his money--every penny back again--but if he won't have -patience, he loses every sixpence to all eternity." - -"You might as well be arguing with an iron box as think to change that -old chap by talk, when he once gets a thing into his head," rejoined -Chancey. Ashwoode walked wildly up and down the dingy, squalid -apartment, exhibiting in his aristocratic form and face, and in the -rich and elegant suit, flashing even in the dim light of that solitary, -unsnuffed candle, with gold lace and jewelled buttons, and with cravat -and ruffles fluttering with rich point lace, a strange and startling -contrast to the slovenly and deserted scene of low debauchery which -surrounded him. - -"Chancey," said he, suddenly stopping and grasping the shoulder of the -sleepy barrister with a fierceness and energy which made him -start--"Chancey, rouse yourself, d---- you. Do you hear? Is there _no_ -way of averting this awful ruin--_is_ there none?" - -As he spoke, Ashwoode held the shoulder of the fellow with a gripe like -that of a vice, and stooping over him, glared in his face with the -aspect of a maniac. - -The lawyer, though by no means of a very excitable temperament, was -startled at the horrible expression which encountered his gaze, and -sate silently looking into his victim's face with a kind of -fascination. - -"Well," said Chancey, turning away his head with an effort--"there's -but one way I can think of." - -"What is it? Do you know anyone that _will_ take my note at a short -date? For God's sake, man, speak out at once, or my brain will turn. -What is it?" said Ashwoode. - -"Why, Mr. Ashwoode, to be plain with you," rejoined Chancey, "I do not -know a soul in Dublin that would discount for you to one-fourth of the -amount you require--but there is another way." - -"In the fiend's name, out with it, then," said Ashwoode, shaking him -fiercely by the shoulder. - -"Well, then, get Mr. Craven to join you in a bond for the amount," said -Chancey, "with a warrant of attorney to confess judgment." - -"Craven! Why, he knows as well as you do how I am dipped. He'd just as -readily thrust his hand into the fire," replied Ashwoode. "Is that your -hopeful scheme?" - -"Why, Mr. Craven might not do so well, after all," said Chancey, -meditatively, and without appearing to hear what the young baronet -said. "Oh! dear, dear, no, he would not do. Old Money-bags knows -him--no, no, that would not do." - -"Can your d----d scheming brain plot no invention to help me? In the -devil's name, where are your wits? Chancey, if you get me out of this -accursed fix, I'll make a man of you." - -"I got a whole lot of bills done for you once by the very same old -gentleman," continued Chancey, "and d----n heavy bills they were too, -but they had Mr. Nicholas Blarden's name across them; would not he lend -it again, if you told him how you stand? If you can come by the money -in a month or so, you may be sure he'll do it." - -"Better and better! Why, Blarden would ask no better fun than to see me -ruined, dead, and damned," rejoined Ashwoode, bitterly. "Cudgel your -brains for another bright thought." - -"Oh! dear me, dear me," said the barrister mildly, "I thought you were -the best of friends. Well, well, it's hard to know. But are you sure he -don't like you?" - -"It's odd if he does," said Ashwoode, "seeing it's scarce a month since -I trounced him almost to death in the theatre. Blarden, indeed!" - -"Well, Mr. Ashwoode, sit down here for a minute, and I'll say all I -have to say; and if you like it, well and good; and if not, there's no -harm done, and things must only take their course. Are you quite sure -of having the means within a month of taking up the notes?" - -"As sure as I am that I see you before me," replied he. - -"Well, then, get Mr. Blarden's name along with your own to your joint -and several bond--the old chap won't have anything more to do with -bills--so, do you mind, your joint and several bond, with warrant of -attorney to confess judgment--and I'll stake my life, he'll take it as -ready as so much cash, the instant I show it to him," said the lawyer -quietly. - -"Are you dreaming or drunk? Have not I told you twenty times over that -Blarden would cut his throat first?" retorted Ashwoode, passionately. - -"Why," said Chancey, fixing his cunning eyes, with a peculiar meaning, -upon the young man, and speaking with a lowered voice and marked -deliberateness, "perhaps if Mr. Blarden knew that his name was wanted -only to satisfy the whim of a fanciful old hunks--if he knew that -judgment should never be entered--if he knew that the bond should never -go outside a strong iron box, under an old bedridden cripple's bed--if -he knew that no questions should be asked as to how he came to write -his name at the foot of it--and if he knew that no mortal should ever -see it until you paid it long before the day it was due--and if he was -quite aware that the whole transaction should be considered so strictly -confidential, that even to _himself_--do you mind--no allusion should -be made to it;--don't you think, in such a case, you could, by some -means or other, manage to get his--_name_?" - -They continued to gaze fixedly at one another in silence, until, at -length, Ashwoode's countenance lighted into a strange, unearthly smile. - -"I see what you mean, Chancey--is it so?" said he, in a voice so low, -as scarcely to be audible. - -"Well, maybe you do," said the barrister, in a tone nearly as low, and -returning the young man's smile with one to the full as sinister. Thus -they remained without speaking for many minutes. - -"There's no danger in it," said Chancey, after a long pause; "I would -not take a part in it if there was. You can pay it eleven months before -it's due. It's a thing I have _known_ done a hundred times over, -without risk; here there _can_ be none. I do _all_ his business myself. -I tell you, that for anything that any living mortal but you and me and -the old badger himself will ever hear, or see, or know of the matter, -the bond might as well be burnt to dust in the back of the fire. I -declare to ---- it's the plain truth I'm telling you--Sir Henry--so it -is." - -There followed another silence of some minutes. At length Ashwoode -said, "I'd rather use any name but Blarden's, if it _must_ be done." - -"What does it matter whose name is on it, if there is no one but -ourselves to read it?" replied Chancey. "I say Blarden's is the best, -because he accepted bills for you before, which were discounted by the -same old codger; and again, because the old fellow knows that the money -was wanted to satisfy gambling debts, and Blarden would seem a very -natural party in a gaming transaction. Blarden's _is_ the name for us. -And, for myself, all I ask is fifty pounds for my share in the -trouble." - -"When must you have the bond?" asked Ashwoode. - -"Set about it _now_," said Chancey; "or stay, your hand shakes too -much, and for both our sakes it must be done neatly; so say to-morrow -morning, early. I'll see the old gentleman to-night, and have the -overdue notes to hand you in the morning. I think that's doing -business." - -"I would not do it--I'd rather blow my brains out--if there was a -single chance of his entering judgment on the bond, or talking of it," -said Ashwoode, in great agitation. - -"A _chance_!" said the barrister. "I tell you there's not a -_possibility_. I manage all his money matters, and I'd burn that bond, -before it should see the outside of his strong box. Why, d----n! do you -think I'd let myself be ruined for fifty pounds? You don't know Gordon -Chancey, indeed you don't, Mr. Ashwoode." - -"Well, Chancey, I'll see you early to-morrow morning," said Ashwoode; -"but are you very--_very_ sure--is there no chance--no _possibility_ -of--of mischief?" - -"I tell you, Mr. Ashwoode," replied Chancey, "unless I chose to betray -_myself_, you can't come by harm. As I told you before, I'm not such a -fool as to ruin myself. Rely on me, Mr. Ashwoode--rely on me. Do you -believe what I say?" - -Ashwoode walked slowly up to him, and fixing his eyes upon the -barrister, with a glance which made Chancey's heart turn chill within -him,-- - -"Yes, Mr. Chancey," he said, "you may be sure I believe you; for if I -did _not_--so help me, God!--you should not quit this room--alive." - -He eyed the caitiff for some minutes in silence, and then returning the -sword, which he had partially drawn, to its scabbard, he abruptly -wished him good-night, and left the room. - - - - -CHAPTER XXXV. - -OF THE COUSIN AND THE BLACK CABINET--AND OF HENRY ASHWOODE'S DECISIVE -INTERVIEW WITH LADY STUKELY. - - -"Well, then," said Ashwoode, a few days after the occurrences which -have just been faithfully recorded, "it behoves me without loss of time -to make provision for this infernal bond; until I see it burned to -dust, I feel as if I stood in the dock. This sha'n't last long--my -stars be thanked, one door of escape lies open to me, and through it I -will pass; the sun shall not go down upon my uncertainty. To be sure, I -shall be--but curse it, it can't be helped now; and let them laugh, and -quiz, and sneer as they please, two-thirds of them would be but too -glad to marry Lady Stukely with half her fortune, were she twice as old -and twice as ugly--if, indeed, either were possible. Pshaw! the laugh -will subside in a week, and in the style in which I shall open, curse -me, if half the world won't lie at my feet. Give me but -money--money--plenty of money, and though I be a paragon of absurdity -and vice, the whole town will vote me a Solomon and a saint; so let's -have no more shivering by the brink, but plunge boldly in at once and -have it over." - -Fortified with these reflections, Sir Henry Ashwoode vaulted lightly -into his saddle, and putting his horse into an easy canter, he found -himself speedily at Lady Stukely's house in Stephen's Green. His -servant held the rein and he dismounted, and, having obtained -admission, summoned all his resolution, lightly mounted the stairs, and -entered the handsome drawing-room. Lady Stukely was not there, but his -cousin, Emily Copland, received him. - -"Lady Betty is not visible, then?" inquired he, after a little chat -upon indifferent subjects. - -"I believe she is out shopping--indeed, you may be very certain she is -not at home," replied Emily, with a malicious smile; "her ladyship is -always visible to you. Now confess, have you ever had much cruelty or -coldness to complain of at dear Lady Stukely's hands?" - -Ashwoode laughed, and perhaps for a moment appeared a little -disconcerted. - -"I _do_ admit, then, as you insist on placing me in the confessional, -that I have always found Lady Betty as kind and polite as I could have -expected or hoped," rejoined Ashwoode, assuming a grave and -particularly proper air; "I were particularly ungrateful if I said -otherwise." - -"Oh, ho! so her ladyship has actually succeeded in inspiring my -platonic cousin with gratitude," continued Emily, in the same tone, -"and gratitude we all know is Cupid's best disguise. Alas, and -alack-a-day, to what vile uses may we come at last--alas, my poor coz." - -"Nay, nay, Emily," replied he, a little piqued, "you need not write my -epitaph yet; I don't see exactly why you should pity me so enormously." - -"Haven't you confessed that you glow with gratitude to Lady Stukely?" -rejoined she. - -"Nonsense! I said nothing about _glowing_; but what if I had?" answered -he. - -"Then you acknowledge that you _do_ glow! Heaven help him, the man -actually _glows_," ejaculated Emily. - -"Pshaw! stuff, nonsense. Emily, don't be a blockhead," said he, -impatiently. - -"Oh! Harry, Harry, Harry, don't deny it," continued she, shaking her -head with intense solemnity, and holding up her fingers in a monitory -manner--"you are then actually in love. Oh, Benedick, poor Benedick! -would thou hadst chosen some Beatrice not quite so well stricken in -years; but what of that?--the beauties of age, if less attractive to -the eye of thoughtless folly than those of youth, are unquestionably -more durable; time may rob the cheek of its bloom, but I defy him to -rob it of its rouge; years--I might say centuries--have no power to -blanche a wig or thin its flowing locks; and though the nymph be blind -with age, what matters it if the swain be blind with love? I make no -doubt you'll be fully as happy together as if she had twice as long to -live." - -Ashwoode poked the fire and blew his nose violently, but nevertheless -answered nothing. - -"The brilliant blush of her cheek and the raven blackness of her wig," -continued the incorrigible Emily, "in close and striking contrast, will -remind you, and I trust usefully, of that _rouge et noir_ which has -been your ruin all your days." - -Still Ashwoode spoke not. - -"The exquisite roundness of her ladyship's figure will remind you that -flesh, if not exactly grass, is at least very little better than bran -and buckram; and her smile will invariably suggest the great truth, -that whenever you do not intend to bite it is better not to show your -teeth, especially when they happen to be like her ladyship's; in short, -you cannot look at her without feeling that in every particular, if -rightly read, she supplied a moral lesson, so that in her presence -every unruly passion of man's nature must entirely subside and sink to -rest. Yes, she will make you happy--eminently happy; every little -attention, every caress, every fond glance she throws at you, will -delightfully assure your affectionate spirit, as it wanders in memory -back to the days of earliest childhood, that she will be to you all -that your beloved grandmother could have been, had she been spared. Oh! -Harry, Harry, this will indeed be too much happiness." - -Another pause ensued, and Emily approached Sir Henry as he stood -sulkily by the mantelpiece, and laying her hand upon his arm, looked -archly up into his face, while shaking her head she slowly said,-- - -"Oh! love, love--oh! Cupid, Cupid, mischievous little boy, what hast -thou done with my poor cousin's heart? - - "''Twas on a widow's jointure land - The archer, Cupid, took his stand.'" - -As she said this, she looked so unutterably mischievous and comical, -that in spite of his vexation and all his efforts to the contrary, he -burst into a long and hearty fit of laughter. - -"Emily," said he, at length, "you are absolutely incorrigible--gravity -in your company is entirely out of the question; but listen to me -seriously for one moment, if you can. I will tell you plainly how I am -circumstanced, and you must promise me in return that you will not quiz -me any more about the matter. But first," he added, cautiously, "let us -guard against eavesdroppers." - -He accordingly walked into the next room, which opened upon that in -which they were, and proceeded to close the far door. Before he had -reached it, however, that in the other room opened, and Lady Stukely -herself entered. The instant she appeared, Emily Copland by a gesture -enjoined silence, nodded towards the door of the next room, from which -Ashwoode's voice, as he carelessly hummed an air, was audible; she then -frowned, nodded, and pointed with vehement repetition toward a dark -recess in the wall, made darker and more secure by the flanking -projection of a huge, black, varnished cabinet. Lady Stukely looked -puzzled, took a step in the direction of the post of concealment -indicated by the girl, then looked puzzled, and hesitated again. More -impatiently Emily repeated her signal, and her ladyship, without any -distinct reason, but with her curiosity all alive, glided behind the -protecting cabinet, with all its army of china ornaments, into the -recess, and there remained entirely concealed. She had hardly effected -this movement, which the deep-piled carpet enabled her to do without -noise, when Ashwoode returned, closed the door of communication between -the two rooms, and then shut that through which Lady Stukely had just -entered, almost brushing against her as he did so, so close was their -proximity. These precautions taken, he returned. - -"Now," said he, in a low and deliberate tone, "the plain facts of the -case are just these. I am dipped over head and ears in debt--debts, -too, of the most urgent kind--debts which threaten me with ruin. Now, -these _must_ be paid--one way or another they _must_ be met. And to -effect this I have but one course--one expedient, and you have guessed -it. No man knows better than I what Lady Stukely is. I can see all that -is ridiculous and repulsive about her just as clearly as anybody else. -She is old enough to be my grandmother, and ugly enough to be the -devil's--and, moreover, painted and varnished over like a signboard. -She may be a fool--she may be a termagant--she may be what you -please--but--_but_ she has money. She has been throwing herself into my -arms this twelvemonth or more--and--but what the deuce is that?" - -This interrogatory was caused by certain choking sounds which proceeded -with fearful suddenness from the place of Lady Stukely's concealment, -and which were instantaneously followed by the appearance of her -ladyship in bodily presence. She opened her mouth, but gave utterance -to nothing but a gasp--drew herself up with such portentous and -swelling magnificence, that Ashwoode almost expected to see her expand -like the spectre of a magic-lantern until her head touched the ceiling. -Forward she came, in her progress sweeping a score of china ornaments -from the cabinet, and strewing the whole floor with the crashing -fragments of monkeys, monsters, and mandarins, breathless, choking, and -almost black with rage, Lady Stukely advanced to Ashwoode, who stood, -for the first time in his life, bereft of every vestige of -self-possession. - -"Painted! varnished!" she screamed hysterically, "ridiculous! -repulsive! Oh, heaven and earth! you--you preternatural monster!" With -these words she uttered two piercing shrieks, and threw herself in -strong hysterics into a chair, holding on her wig distractedly with one -hand, for fear of accidents. - - [Illustration: "'Painted! Varnished!' she screamed, hysterically." - _To face page 188._] - -"Don't--don't ring the bell," said she, with an abrupt accession of -fortitude, observing Emily Copland approach the bell. "Don't, I shall -be better presently." And then, with another shriek, she opened afresh. - -As the hysterics subsided, Ashwoode began a little to recover his -scattered wits, and observing that Lady Stukely had sunk back in -extreme languor and exhaustion, with closed eyes, he ventured to -approach the shrine of his outraged divinity. - -"I feel--indeed I own, Lady Stukely," he said, hesitatingly, "I have -much to explain. I ought to explain--yes, I ought. I will, Lady -Stukely--and--and I can entirely satisfy--completely dispel----" - -He was interrupted here; for Lady Stukely, starting bolt upright in the -chair, exclaimed,-- - -"You wretch! you villain! you perjured, scheming, designing, lying, -paltry, stupid, insignificant, outrageous----" - -Whether it was that her ladyship wanted words to supply a climax, or -that hysterics are usually attended with such results, we cannot -pretend to say, but certain it is that at this precise point the -languishing, fashionable, die-away Lady Stukely actually spat in the -young baronet's face. - -Ashwoode changed colour, as he promptly discharged the ridiculous but -very necessary task of wiping his face. With difficulty he restrained -himself under this provocation, but he did command himself so far as to -say nothing. He turned on his heel and walked downstairs, muttering as -he went,-- - -"An old painted devil!" - -The cool air, as he passed out, speedily dissipated the confusion and -excitement of the scene that had just passed, and all the consequences -of his rupture with Lady Stukely rushed upon his mind with overwhelming -and maddening force. - -"You were right, perfectly right--he _is_ a cheat--a trickster--a -villain!" exclaimed Lady Stukely. "Only to think of him! Oh, heaven and -earth!" And again she was seized with violent hysterics, in which state -she was conducted up to her bedroom by Emily Copland, who had enjoyed -the catastrophe with an intensity of relish which none but a female, -and a mischievous one to boot, can know. - -Loud and repeated were Lady Stukely's thanksgivings for having escaped -the snares of the designing young baronet, and warm and multiplied and -grateful her acknowledgments to Emily Copland--to whom, however, from -that time forth she cherished an intense dislike. - - - - -CHAPTER XXXVI. - -OF JEWELS, PLATE, HORSES, DOGS, AND FAMILY PICTURES--AND CONCERNING THE -APPOINTED HOUR. - - -In a state little, if at all, short of distraction, Sir Henry Ashwoode -threw himself from his horse at Morley Court. That resource which he -had calculated upon with absolute certainty had totally failed him; his -last stake had been played and lost, and ruin in its most hideous -aspect stared him in the face. - -Spattered from heel to head with mud--for he had ridden at a reckless -speed--with a face pale as that of a corpse, and his dress all -disordered, he entered the great old parlour, and scarcely knowing what -he did, dashed the door to with violence and bolted it. His brain swam -so that the floor seemed to heave and rock like a sea; he cast his -laced hat and his splendid peruke (the envy and admiration of half the -_petit maîtres_ in Dublin) upon the ground, and stood in the centre of -the room, with his hands clutched upon the temples of his bare, shorn -head, and his teeth set, the breathing image of despair. From this -state he was roused by some one endeavouring to open the door. - -"Who's there?" he shouted, springing backward and drawing his sword, as -if he expected a troop of constables to burst in. - -Whoever the party may have been, the attempt was not repeated. - -"What's the matter with me--am I mad?" said Ashwoode, after a terrible -pause, and hurling his sword to the far end of the room. "Lie there. -I've let the moment pass--I might have done it--cut the Gordian knot, -and there an end of all. What brought me here?" - -He stared about the room, for the first time conscious where he stood. - -"Damn these pictures," he muttered; "they're all alive--everything -moves towards me." He flung himself into a chair and clasped his -fingers over his eyes. "I can't breathe--the place is suffocating. Oh, -God! I shall go mad!" He threw open one of the windows and stood -gasping at it as if he stood at the mouth of a furnace. - -"Everything is hot and strange and maddening--I can't endure -this--brain and heart are bursting--it is HELL." - -In a state of excitement which nearly amounted to downright insanity, -he stood at the open window. It was long before this extravagant -agitation subsided so as to allow room for thought or remembrance. At -length he closed the window, and began to pace the room from end to end -with long and heavy steps. He stopped by a pier-table, on which stood a -china bowl full of flowers, and plunging his hands into it, dashed the -water over his head and face. - -"Let me think--let me think," said he. "I was not wont to be thus -overcome by reverse. Surely I can master as much as will pay that -thrice-accursed bond, if I could but collect my thoughts--there must -yet be the means of meeting it. Let _that_ be but paid, and then, -welcome ruin in any other shape. Let me see. Ay, the furniture; then -the pictures--some of them valuable--_very_ valuable; then the horses -and the dogs; and then--ay, the plate. Why, to be sure--what have I -been dreaming of?--the plate will go half-way to satisfy it; and -then--what else? Let me see. The whole thing is six thousand four -hundred and fifty pounds--what more? Is there _nothing_ more to meet -it? The plate--the furniture--the pictures--ay, idiot that I am, why -did I not think of them an hour since?--my sister's jewels--why, it's -all settled--how the devil came it that I never thought of them before? -It's very well, however, as it is--for if I had, they would have gone -long ago. Come, come, I breathe again--I have gotten my neck out of the -hemp, at all events. I'll send in for Craven this moment. He likes a -bargain, and he shall have one--before to-morrow's sun goes down, that -d----d bond shall be ashes. Mary's jewels are valued at two thousand -pounds. Well, let him take them at one thousand five hundred; and the -pictures, plate, furniture, dogs, and horses for the rest--and he has a -bargain. These jewels have saved me--bribed the hangman. What care I -how or when I die, if I but avert that. Ten to one I blow my brains out -before another month. A short life and a merry one was ever the motto -of the Ashwoodes; and as the mirth is pretty well over with me, I begin -to think it time to retire. _Satis edisti, satis bipisti, satis -lusisti, tempus est tibi abire_--what am I raving about? There's -business to be done now--to it, then--to it like a man--while we _are_ -alive let us _be_ alive." - -Craven liked his bargain, and engaged that the money should be duly -handed at noon next day to Sir Henry Ashwoode, who forthwith bade the -worthy attorney good-night, and wrote the following brief note to -Gordon Chancey, Esq.:-- - - "SIR, - - "I shall call upon you to-morrow at one of the clock, if the hour - suit you, upon particular business, and shall be much obliged by - your having a _certain security_ by you, which I shall then be - prepared to redeem. - - "I remain, sir, your very obedient servant, - - "HENRY ASHWOODE." - -"So," said Sir Henry, with a half shudder, as he folded and sealed this -missive, "I shall, at all events, escape the halter. To-morrow night, -spite of wreck and ruin, I shall sleep soundly. God knows, I want rest. -Since I wrote that name, and gave that accursed bond out of my hands, -my whole existence, waking and sleeping, has been but one abhorred and -ghastly nightmare. I would gladly give a limb to have that d----d scrap -of parchment in my hand this moment; but patience, patience--one night -more--one night only--of fevered agony and hideous dreams--one last -night--and then--once more I am my own master--my character and safety -are again in my own hands--and may I die the death, if ever I risk them -again as I have done--one night more--would--_would_ to God it were -morning!" - - - - -CHAPTER XXXVII. - -THE RECKONING--CHANCEY'S LARGE CAT--AND THE COACH. - - -The morning arrived, and at the appointed hour Sir Henry Ashwoode -dismounted in Whitefriar Street, and gave the bridle of his horse to -the groom who accompanied him. - -"Well," thought he, as he entered the dingy, dilapidated square in -which Chancey's lodgings were situated, "this matter, at all events, is -arranged--I sha'n't hang, though I'm half inclined to allow I deserve -to do so for my infernal folly in trying the thing at all; but no -matter, it has given me a lesson I sha'n't soon forget. As to the rest, -what care I now? Let ruin pounce upon me in any shape but that--luckily -I have still enough to keep body and soul together left." - -He paused to indulge in ruminations of no very pleasant kind, and then -half muttered,-- - -"I have been a fool--I have walked in a dream. Only to think of a man -like me, who has seen something of the world, allowing that d----d hag -to play him such a trick. Well, I believe it _is_ true, after all, that -we cannot have wisdom without paying for it. If my acquisitions bear -any proportion to my outlay, I ought to be a Solomon by this time." - -The door was opened to his summons by Gordon Chancey himself. When -Ashwoode entered, Chancey carefully locked the door on the inside and -placed the key in his pocket. - -"It's as well, Sir Henry, to be on the safe side," observed Chancey, -shuffling towards the table. "Dear me, dear me, there's no such thing -as being too careful--is there, Sir Henry?" - -"Well, well, well, let's to business," said young Ashwoode, hurriedly, -seating himself at the end of a heavy deal table, at which was a chair, -and taking from his pocket a large leathern pocket-book. "You have -the--the security here?" - -"Of course--oh, dear, of course," replied the barrister; "the bond and -warrant of attorney--that d----d forgery--it is in the next room, very -safe--oh, dear me, yes indeed." - -It struck Ashwoode that there was something, he could not exactly say -what, unusual and sinister in the manner of Mr. Chancey, as well as in -his emphasis and language, and he fixed his eye upon him for a moment -with a searching glance. The barrister, however, busied himself with -tumbling over some papers in a drawer. - -"Well, why don't you get it?" asked Ashwoode, impatiently. - -"Never mind, never mind," replied Chancey; "do _you_ reckon your money -over, and be very sure the bond will come time enough. I don't wonder, -though, you're eager to have it fast in your own hands again--but it -will come--it will come." - -Ashwoode proceeded to open the pocket-book and to turn over the notes. - -"They're all right," said he, "they're all right. But, hush!" he added, -slightly changing colour--"I hear something stirring in the next room." - -"Oh, dear, dear, it's nothing but the cat," rejoined Chancey, with an -ugly laugh. - -"Your cat treads very heavily," said Ashwoode, suspiciously. - -"So it does," rejoined Chancey, "it does tread heavy; it's a very large -cat, so it is; it has wonderful great claws; it can see in the dark; -it's a great cat; it never missed a rat yet; and I've seen it lure the -bird off a branch with the mere power of its eye; it's a great cat--but -reckon your money, and I'll go in for the bond." - -This strange speech was uttered in a manner at least as strange, and -Chancey, without waiting for commentary or interruption, passed into -the next room. The step crossed the adjoining chamber, and Ashwoode -heard the rustling of papers; it then returned, the door opened, and -_not_ Gordon Chancey, but Nicholas Blarden entered the room and -confronted Sir Henry Ashwoode. Personal fear in bodily conflict was a -thing unknown to the young baronet, but now all courage, all strength -forsook him, and he stood gazing in vacant horror upon that, to him, -most tremendous apparition, with a face white as ashes, and covered -with the starting dews of terror. - -With that hideous combination, a smile and a scowl, stamped upon his -coarse features, the wretch stood with folded arms, in an attitude of -indescribable exultation, gazing with savage, gloating eyes full upon -his appalled and terror-stricken victim. Fixed as statues they both -remained for several minutes. - -"Ho, ho, ho! you look frightened, young man," exclaimed Blarden, with a -horse laugh; "you look as if you were going to be hanged--you look as -if the hemp were round your neck--you look as if the hangman had you by -the collar, you do--ho, ho, ho!" - -Ashwoode's bloodless lips moved, but utterance was gone. - -"It's hard to get the words out," continued Blarden, with ferocious -glee. "I never knew the man yet could do a last dying speech smooth--a -sort of choking comes on, eh?--the sight of the minister and the -hangman makes a man feel so quare, eh?--and the coffin looks so ugly, -and all the crowd; it's confusing somehow, and puts a man out, eh?--ho, -ho, ho!" - -Ashwoode laid his hand upon his forehead, and gazed on in blank horror. - -"Why, you're not such a great man, by half, as you were in the -play-house the other evening," continued Blarden; "you don't look so -grand, by any manner of means. Some way or other, you look a little -sickish or so. I'm afraid you don't like my company--ho, ho, ho!" - -Still Sir Henry remained locked in the same stupefied silence. - -"Ho, ho! you seem to think your hemp is twisted, and your boards -sawed," resumed Blarden; "you seem to think you're in a fix at -last--and so do I, by ----!" he thundered, "for _I_ have the rope -fairly round your weasand, and, by ---- I'll make you dance upon -nothing, at Gallows Hill, before you're a month older. Do you hear -_that_--do you--you swindler? Eh--you gaol-bird, you common forger, you -robber, you crows' meat--who holds the winning cards now?" - -"Where--where's the bond?" said Ashwoode, scarce audibly. - -"Where's your precious bond, you forger, you gibbet-carrion?" shouted -Blarden, exultingly. "Where's your forged bond--the bond that will -crack your neck for you--where is it, eh? Why, here--here in my -breeches pocket--_that's_ where it is. I hope you think it safe -enough--eh, you gallows-tassle?" - -Yielding to some confused instinctive prompting to recover the fatal -instrument, Ashwoode drew his sword, and would have rushed upon his -brutal and triumphant persecutor; but Blarden was not unprepared even -for this. With the quickness of light, he snatched a pistol from his -coat pocket, recoiling, as he did so, a hurried pace or two, and while -he turned, coward as he was, pale and livid as death, he levelled it at -the young man's breast, and both stood for an instant motionless, in -the attitudes of deadly antagonism. - -"Put up your sword; I have you there, as well as everywhere -else--regularly checkmated, by ----!" shouted Blarden, with the -ferocity of half-desperate cowardice. "Put up your sword, I say, and -don't be a bloody idiot, along with everything else. Don't you see -you're done for?--there's not a chance left you. You're in the cage, -and there's no need to knock yourself to pieces against the -bars--you're done for, I tell you." - -With a mute but expressive gesture of despair, Ashwoode grasped his -sword by the slender, glittering blade, and broke it across. The -fragments dropped from his hands, and he sunk almost lifeless into a -chair--a spectacle so ghastly, that Blarden for a moment thought that -death was about to rescue his victim. - -"Chancey, come out here," exclaimed Blarden; "the fellow has taken the -staggers--come out, will you?" - -"Oh! dear me, dear me," said Chancey, in his own quiet way, "but he -looks very bad." - -"Go over and shake him," said Blarden, still holding the pistol in his -hand. "What are you afraid of? He can't hurt you--he has broken his -bilbo across--the symbol of gentility. By ----! he's a good deal down -in the mouth." - -While they thus debated, Ashwoode rose up, looking more like a corpse -endowed with motion than a living man. - -"Take me away at once," said he, with a sullen wildness--"take me away -to gaol, or where you will--anywhere were better than this place. Take -me away; I am ruined--blasted. Make the most of it--your infernal -scheme has succeeded--take me to prison." - -"Oh, murder! he wants to go to gaol--do you hear him, Chancey?" cried -Blarden--"such an elegant, fine gentleman to think of such a thing: -only to think of a baronet in gaol--and for forgery, too--and the -condemned cell such an ungentlemanly sort of a hole. Why, you'd have to -use perfumes to no end, to make the place fit for the reception of your -aristocratic visitors--my Lord this, and my Lady that--for, of course, -you'll keep none but the best of company--ho, ho, ho! Perhaps the judge -that's to try you may turn out to be an old acquaintance, for your luck -is surprising--isn't it, Chancey?--and he'll pay you a fine compliment, -and express his regret when he's going to pass sentence, eh?--ho, ho, -ho! But, after all, I'd advise you, if the condescension is not too -much to expect from such a very fine gentleman as you, to consort as -much as possible with the turnkey--he's the most useful friend you can -make, under your peculiarly delicate circumstances--ho, ho!--eh? It's -just possible he mayn't like to associate with you, for some of them -fellows are rather stiff, d'ye see, and won't keep company with certain -classes of the coves in quod, such as forgers or pickpockets; but if -he'll allow it, you'd better get intimate with him--ho, ho, ho!--eh?" - -"Take me to the prison, sir," said Ashwoode, sternly--"I suppose you -mean to do so. Let your officers remove me at once--you have, no doubt, -men for the purpose in the next room. Let them call a coach, and I will -go with them--but let it be at once." - -"Well, you're not far out there, by ----!" replied Blarden. "I _have_ a -broad-shouldered acquaintance or two, and a little bit of a -warrant--you understand?--in the next apartment. Grimes, Grimes, come -in here--you're wanted." - -A huge, ill-looking fellow, with his coat buttoned up to his chin, and -a short pipe protruding from the corner of his mouth, swaggered into -the chamber, with that peculiar gait which seems as if contracted by -habitually shouldering and jostling through mobs and all manner of -riotous assemblies. - -"_That's_ the bird?" said the fellow, interrogatively, and pointing -with his pipe carelessly at Ashwoode. "You're my prisoner," he added, -gruffly addressing the unfortunate young man, and at the same time -planting his ponderous hand heavily upon his shoulder, he in the other -exhibited a crumpled warrant. - -"Grimes, go call a coach," said Blarden, "and don't be a brace of -shakes about it, do you mind." - -Grimes departed, and Blarden, after a long pause, suddenly addressing -himself to Ashwoode, resumed, in a somewhat altered tone, but with -intenser sternness still,-- - -"Now, I tell you what it is, my young cove, I have a sort of half a -notion not to send you to gaol at all, do you hear?" - -"Pshaw, pshaw!" said Ashwoode, turning bitterly away. - -"I tell you I'm speaking what I mean," rejoined Blarden; "I'll not send -you there _now_ at any rate. I want to have a bit of chat with you this -evening, and it shall rest with you whether you go there at all or not; -I'll give you the choice fairly. We'll meet, then, at Morley Court this -evening, at eight o'clock; and for fear of accidents in the meantime, -you'll have no objection to our mutual friend, Mr. Chancey, and our -common acquaintance, Mr. Grimes, accompanying you home in the coach, -and just keeping an eye on you till I come, for fear you might be out -walking when I call--you understand me? But here's Grimes. Mr. Grimes, -my particular friend Sir Henry Ashwoode has taken an extraordinary -remarkable fancy to you, and wishes to know whether you'll do him the -favour to take a jaunt with him in a carriage to see his house at -Morley Court, and to spend the day with him and Mr. Chancey, for he -finds that his health requires him to keep at home, and he has a -particular objection to be left alone, even for a minute. Sir Henry, -the coach is at the door. You'd better bundle up your bank-notes, they -may be useful to you. Chancey, tell Sir Henry's groom, as you pass, -that he'll not want his horse any more to-day." - -The party went out; Sir Henry, pale as death, and scarcely able to -support himself on his limbs, walking between Chancey and the herculean -constable. Blarden saw them safely shut up in the vehicle, and giving -the coachman his orders, gazed after them as they drove away in the -direction of Morley Court, with a flushed face and a bounding heart. - - - - -CHAPTER XXXVIII. - -STRANGE GUESTS AT THE MANOR. - - -The coach jingled, jolted, and rumbled on, and Ashwoode lay back in the -crazy conveyance in a kind of stupefied apathy. The scene which had -just closed was, in his mind, a chaos of horrible confusion--a hideous, -stunning dream, whose incidents, as they floated through his passive -memory, seemed like unreal and terrific exaggerations, into whose -reality he wanted energy and power to inquire. Still before him sate a -breathing evidence of the truth of all these confused and horrible -recollections--the stalwart, ruffianly figure of the constable--with -his great red horny hands, and greasy cuffs, and the heavy coat -buttoned up to his unshorn chin--and the short, discoloured pipe, -protruding from the corner of his mouth--lounging back with half-closed -eyes, and the air of a man who had passed the night in wearisome vigils -among strife and riot, and who has acquired the compensating power of -dividing his faculties at all times pretty nearly between sleep and -waking--a kind of sottish, semi-existence--something between that of a -swine and a sloth. Over this figure the eyes of the young man vacantly -wandered, and thence to the cheerful fields and trees visible from the -window, and back again to the burly constable, until every seam and -button in his coat grew familiar to his mind as the oldest tenants of -his memory. Beside him, too, sate Chancey--his artful, cowardly -betrayer. Yet even against him he could not feel anger; all energy of -thought and feeling seemed lost to him; and nothing but a dull -ambiguous incredulity and a scared stupor were there in their stead. -On--on they rolled and rumbled, among pleasant fields and stately -hedge-rows, toward the ancestral dwelling of the miserable prisoner, -who sate like a lifeless effigy, yielding passively to every jolt and -movement of the carriage. - -"I say, Grimes, were you ever out here before?" inquired Mr. Chancey. -"We'll soon be in the manor, driving up to Morley Court. It's a fine -place, I'm given to understand. I never was here but once before, long -as I know Sir Henry; but better late than never. Do you know this -place, Mr. Grimes?" - -A negative grunt and a short nod relieved Mr. Grimes from the painful -necessity of removing his pipe for the purpose of uttering an -articulate answer. - -"Oh, dear me, dear me," resumed Mr. Chancey, "but I'm uncommon hungry -and dry. I wish to God we were safe and sound in Sir Henry's house. -Grimes, are _you_ dry?" - -Mr. Grimes removed his pipe, and spat upon the coach floor. - -"Am I dhry?" said he. "About as dhry as a sprat in a tindher-box, -that's all. Is there much more to go?" - -Chancey stretched his head out of the coach window. - -"I see the old piers of the avenue," said he; "and God knows but it's I -that's glad we're near our journey's end. Now we're passing in--we're -in the avenue." - -Mr. Grimes hereupon uttered a grunt of approbation; and pressing down -the ashes of his pipe with his thumb, he deposited that instrument in -his waistcoat pocket--whence, at the same time, he drew a small plug of -tobacco, which he inserted in his mouth, and rolled it about with his -tongue from time to time during the remainder of their progress. - -"Sir Henry, we're arrived," said Chancey, admonishing the baronet with -his elbow--"we're at the hall-door at Morley Court. Sir Henry--dear me, -dear me, he's very abstracted, so he is. I say, Sir Henry, we're at -Morley Court." - -Ashwoode looked vacantly in Chancey's face, and then upon the stately -door of the old house, and suddenly recollecting himself, he said with -strange alacrity,-- - -"Ay, ay--at Morley Court--so we are. Come, then, gentlemen, let us get -down." - -Accordingly the three companions descended from the conveyance, and -entered the ancient dwelling-house together. - -"Follow me, gentlemen," said Ashwoode, leading the way to a small, -oak-wainscoted parlour. "You shall have refreshments immediately." - -He called the servant to the door, and continued addressing himself to -Chancey, and his no less refined companion. - -"Order what you please, gentlemen--I can't think of these things just -now; and, sirrah, do you hear me, bring a large vessel of water--my -throat is literally scorched." - -"Well, Mr. Chancey, what do you say?" said Grimes. "I'm for a couple of -bottles of sack, and a good pitcher of ale, to begin with, in the way -of liquor." - -"Well, it wouldn't be that bad," said Chancey. "What meat have you on -the spit, my good man?" - -"I don't exactly know, sir," replied the wondering domestic; "but I'll -inquire." - -"And see, my good man," continued Chancey, "ask them whether there -isn't some cold roast beef in the buttery; and if so, bring it up in a -jiffy, for, I declare to G--d I'm uncommon hungry; and let the cook -send up a hot joint directly;--and do you mind, my honest man, light a -bit of a fire here, for it's rather chill, and put plenty of dry -sticks----" - -"Give us the ale and the sack this instant minute, do you see," said -Mr. Grimes. "You may do the rest after." - -"Yes, you may as well," resumed Chancey; "for indeed I'm lost with the -drooth myself." - -"Cut your stick, saucepan," said Mr. Grimes, authoritatively; and the -servant departed in unfeigned astonishment to execute his various -commissions. - -Ashwoode threw himself into a seat, and in silence endeavoured to -collect his thoughts. Faint, sick, and stunned, he nevertheless began -gradually to comprehend every particular of his position more and more -fully--until at length all the ghastly truth stood revealed to his -mind's eye in vivid and glaring distinctness. While Ashwoode was -engaged in his agreeable ruminations, Mr. Chancey and Mr. Grimes were -busily employed in discussing the substantial fare which his larder had -supplied, and pledging one another in copious libations of generous -liquor. - - - - -CHAPTER XXXIX. - -THE BARGAIN, AND THE NEW CONFEDERATES. - - -At length the evening came--darkness closed over the old place, and as -the appointed hour approached, Ashwoode became more and more excited. - -"I must," thought he, "keep every faculty intensely on the stretch, to -detect, if possible, the nature of their schemes. Blarden and Chancey -have unquestionably hatched some other d----d plot, though what worse -can befall me? _I_ am netted as completely as their worst malice can -desire. It is now seven o'clock. Another hour will determine all my -doubts. Hark you, sirrah!" continued he, raising his voice, and -addressing a servant who had entered the chamber, "I expect a gentleman -upon particular business at eight o'clock. On his arrival conduct him -directly to this room." - -He then relapsed into the same train of gloomy and agitated thought. - -Chancey and his burly companion both sat snugly before the fire smoking -their pipes in silent enjoyment, while their miserable host paced the -room from wall to wall in mental torments indescribable. - -At length the weary interval expired, and within a few minutes of the -appointed hour, Nicholas Blarden was admitted by the servant, and -ushered into the chamber in which Ashwoode expected his arrival. - -"Well, Sir Henry," exclaimed Blarden, as he swaggered into the room, -"you seem a little flustered still--eh? Hope you found your company -pleasant. My friends' society is considered uncommon agreeable." - -The visitor here threw himself into a chair, and continued-- - -"By the holy Saint Paul, as I rode up your cursed old dusky avenue, I -began to think the chances were ten to one you had brought your throat -and a razor acquainted before this. I have known men do it under your -circumstances--of course I mean _gentlemen_, with fine friends and -delicate habits, and who could not stand exposure and all that kind of -thing. I say, Mr. Grimes, my sweet fellow, you may leave the room, but -keep within call, do ye mind. Mr. Chancey and I want to have a little -confidential conversation with my friend, Sir Henry. Bundle out, and -the moment you hear me call your name, bolt in again like a shot." - -Mr. Grimes, without answering, rose and lounged out of the room. - -"Chancey, shut that door," continued Blarden. "Shut it tight, as tight -as a drum. There, to your seat again. _Now_ then, Sir Henry, we may as -well to business; but first of all, sit down. I have no objection to -your sitting. Don't be shy." - -Sir Henry Ashwoode _did_ seat himself, and the three members of this -secret council drew their chairs around the table, each with very -different feelings. - -"I take it for granted," said Blarden, planting his elbow upon the -table, and supporting his chin upon his hand, while he fixed his -baleful eyes upon the young man, "I take it for granted, and as a -matter of course, that you have been puzzling your brains all day to -come at the reason why I allow you to be sitting in this house, instead -of clapping your four bones under lock and key, in another place." - -He paused here, as if to allow his exordium to impress itself upon the -memory of his auditory, and then resumed,-- - -"And I take it for granted, moreover, that you are not quite fool -enough to imagine that I care one blast if you were strung up by the -hangman, and carved by the doctors, to-morrow--eh?" - -He paused again. - -"Well, then, it's possible you think I have some end of my own to -serve, by letting the matter stand over this way. And so I _have_, by -----. You think right, if you never thought right before. I _have_ an -object in view, and it lies with you whether it's gained or lost. Do -you mind?" - -"Go on--go on--go on," repeated Ashwoode, gloomily. - -"What a devil of a hurry you're in," observed Blarden, with a scornful -chuckle. "But don't tear yourself; you'll have it all time enough. Now -I'm going to do great things for you--do you mind me? I'm going, in the -first place, to give you your life and your character--such as it is; -and, what's more, I'll not let you go to jail for debt neither. I'll -not let you be ruined; for Nickey Blarden was never the man to do -things by halves. Do you hear all I'm saying?" - -"Yes, yes," said Ashwoode, faintly; "but the condition--come to -that--the condition." - -"Well, I _will_ come to that. I will tell you the terms," rejoined -Blarden. "I suppose you need not be told that I am worth a good penny, -no matter how much. At any rate I'm _rich_--that much you _do_ know. -Well, perhaps you'll think it odd that I have not taken up a little to -live more quiet and orderly; in short, that I have not sown my wild -oats, and settled down, and all that, and become what they call an -ornament to society--eh? You, perhaps, wonder how it comes I have not -taken a rib--why I have not got married--eh? Well, I think myself it -_is_ a wonder, especially for such an admirer of the sex as I am, and I -think it's a pity besides, and so I've made up my mind to mend the -matter, do you see, and to take a wife without loss of time. She must -have family, for I want that, and she must have beauty, for I would not -marry the queen without it--family and beauty. I don't ask money; I -have more of my own than I well know what to do with. Family and beauty -is what I require. And I have settled the thing in my own mind, that -the very article I want, just the thing to a nicety, is your -sister--little, bright-eyed Mary--sporting Molly. I wish to marry her, -and her I'll _have_--and that's the long and the short of the whole -business." - -"You--_you_ marry my sister," exclaimed Ashwoode, returning the -fellow's insolent gaze with a look of indescribable scorn and -astonishment. - -"Yes--I--I myself--I, Nicholas Blarden, with more gold than a man could -count in three lives," shouted Blarden, returning his gaze with a scowl -of defiance--"_I_ condescend to marry the sister of a ruined, beggared -profligate--a common _forger_, who has one foot in the dock at this -minute. Down upon your marrow-bones, and thank me for my -condescension--down, I say." - -Overwhelmed with indignation and disgust, Ashwoode could not answer. -All his self-command was required to resist his vehement internal -impulse to strike the fellow to the ground and trample upon him. This -strong emotion, however, had its spring in no generous source. No -thought or care for Mary's feelings or fate crossed his mind; but only -the sense of insulted pride, for even in the midst of all his misery -and abasement, his hereditary pride of birth survived: that this low, -this entirely blasted, this branded ruffian should dare to propose to -ally himself with the Ashwoodes of Morley Court--a family whose blood -was as pure as centuries of aristocratic transmission, and repeated -commixture with that of nobility, could make it--a family who stood, in -consideration and respect, one of the very highest of the country! -Could flesh and blood endure it? - -"Make your mind up at once--I have no time to spare; and just remember -that the locality of your night's lodging depends upon your decision," -said Blarden, coolly, looking at his watch. "If, unfortunately for -yourself, you should resolve against the connection, then you must have -the goodness to accompany us into town to-night, and the law takes its -course quietly with you, and your neck-bone must only reconcile itself -to an ugly bit of a twist. If otherwise, you're a made man. Run the -matter fairly over in your mind, and see which of us two should desire -the thing most. As for me, I tell you plainly, it's a bit of a -fancy--no more--and may pass off in a day or two, for I don't pretend -to be extraordinarily steady in love affairs, and always had rather a -roving eye; and if I _should_ happen to cool, by ----, you'll be in a -nice hobble. So I think you had best take the ball at the hop--do you -mind--and make no mouths at your good fortune." - -Blarden paused, and looked at his huge chased-gold watch again, and -laid it on the table, as if to measure Ashwoode's deliberation by the -minute. Meanwhile the young baronet had ample time to recollect the -desperate pressure of his circumstances, which outraged pride had for a -moment half obliterated from his mind, and the process of remembrance -was in no small degree assisted by the heavy tread of the constable, -distinctly audible from the hall. - -"Blarden," said Ashwoode, in a voice low and husky with agitation, -"she'll never consent--you can't expect it: she'll never marry you." - -"I'm not talking of the girl's consent just now," replied Blarden: "I'm -asking only for _yours_ in the first place. Am I to understand that -you're agreed?" - -"Yes," replied Ashwoode, sullenly; "what is there left to me, but to -agree?" - -"Then leave me alone to gain _her_ consent," retorted Blarden, with a -brutal smile. "I have a bit of a winning way with me--a knack of my -own--for coming round a girl; and if she don't yield to that, why we -must only try another course. When love is wanting, _obedience_ is the -next best thing: although we can't charm her, she's no girl if we can't -frighten her--eh?" - -Ashwoode was silent. - -"Now mind, I require your active co-operation," continued Blarden; -"there's to be no shamming. I'm no greenhorn, and know a loaded die -from a fair one. It's not safe to try hocus pocus with me, and if I -don't get the girl, of course you're no brother of mine, and must not -expect me to forget the old score that's between us. Do you understand -me? Unless you bring this marriage about, you must only take the -consequences, and I promise you they'll be of the very ugliest possible -description." - -"Agreed, agreed; talk no more of it just now," said Ashwoode, -vehemently--"we understand one another. Tomorrow we may talk of it -again; meanwhile torment me no more!" - -"Well, I have said my say," rejoined Blarden, "and have nothing more to -do but to inform you, that I intend passing the night here, and, in -short, to make a visit of a week or so, for it's right the young lady -should have an opportunity of knowing my geography before she marries -me; and besides, I have heard a great account of old Sir Richard's -cellar. Chancey, do you tell my servant to bring my things up to the -room that Sir Henry will point out. Sir Henry, you'll see about my -room--have a bit of fire in it--see to it yourself, mind; for do you -mind, between ourselves, I think it's on the whole your better course -to be uncommonly civil to me. Stir yourselves, gentlemen. And, Chancey, -hand Grimes his fee, and let him be off. We'll try a jug of your -claret, Sir Henry, and a spatchcock, or some little thing of the kind, -and then to our virtuous beds--eh?" - -After a carousal protracted to nearly three hours, during which Nickey -Blarden treated his two companions to sundry ballads, and other vocal -efforts somewhat more boisterous than elegant, and supplying frequent -allusion, and not of the most delicate kind, to his contemplated change -of condition, that interesting person proceeded somewhat unsteadily -upstairs to his bed-chamber. With a suspicion, which even his tipsiness -could not overcome, he jealously bolted the door upon the inside, and -laid his sword and pistols upon the table by his bed, remembering that -it was just possible that his entertainer might conceive an expeditious -project for relieving himself of all his troubles, or at least the -greater part of them. These pleasant precautions taken, Mr. Blarden -undressed himself with all celerity and threw himself into bed. - -This gentleman's opinion of mankind was by no means exalted, nor at all -complimentary to human nature. Utter, hardened selfishness he believed -to be the master-passion of the human race, and any appeal which -addressed itself to that, he looked upon as irresistible. In applying -this rule to Sir Henry Ashwoode he happened, indeed, to be critically -correct, for the young baronet was in very nearly all points fashioned -precisely according to honest Nickey's standard of humanity. That -gentleman experienced, therefore, no misgivings as to his young -friend's preferring at all hazards to remain at Morley Court, rather -than quit the country, and enter upon a life of vagabond beggary. - -"No, no," thought Blarden, "he'll not take leg bail, just because he -can gain nothing earthly by it now; the only thing I can see that could -serve him at all--that is, supposing him to be against the match--is to -cut my throat; however, I don't think he's wild enough to run that -risk, and if he does try it, by ----, he'll have the worst of the -game." - -Thus, after a day of unclouded triumph, did Mr. Blarden compose himself -to light and happy slumbers. - - - - -CHAPTER XL. - -DREAMS--FIRST IMPRESSIONS--THE MAN IN THE PLUM-COLOURED SUIT. - - -The sun shone cheerily through the casement of the quaint and pretty -little chamber which called Mary Ashwoode its mistress. It was a fresh -and sunny autumn morning; the last leaves rustled on the boughs, and -the thrush and blackbird sang their merry morning lays. Mary sat by the -window, looking sadly forth upon the slopes and woods which caught the -slanting beams of the ruddy sun. - -"I have passed, indeed, a very troubled night--I have been haunted with -strange and fearful dreams. I feel very sorrowful and uneasy--indeed, -indeed I do, Carey." - -"It's only the vapours, my lady," replied the maid; "a glass of -orange-flower water and camphor is the sovereignest thing in the world -for them." - -"Indeed, Carey," continued the young lady, still gazing sadly from the -casement, "I know not why it is so--a foolish dream, wild and most -extravagant, yet still it will not leave me. I cannot shake off this -fear and depression. I will run down stairs and talk with my dear -brother--that may cheer me." - -She arose, ran lightly down the stairs, and entered the parlour. The -first object that met her gaze, standing full before her, was a large -and singularly ill-looking man, arrayed in a suit of plum-coloured -cloth, richly laced. It was Nicholas Blarden. With a vulgar swagger, -half abashed and half impudent, the fellow acknowledged her entrance by -retreating a little and making an awkward bow, while a smile and a -leer, more calculated to frighten than to attract, lighted his coarse -and swollen features. The girl looked at this object with a startled -air, she felt that she had seen that sinister face before, but where or -when--whether waking or in a dream, she strove in vain to remember. - -"I say, Ashwoode, where's your manners?" said Blarden, turning angrily -towards the young baronet, who was scarcely less confounded at her -sudden entrance than was the girl herself. "What do you stand gaping -there for? Don't you see the young lady wants to know who I am?" - -Blarden followed this vehement exhortation with a look which at once -recalled Ashwoode to his senses. - -"Mary," said he, approaching, "this is my particular friend, Mr. -Nicholas Blarden. Mr. Blarden, my sister, Miss Mary Ashwoode." - -"Your most obedient humble servant, Mistress Mary," said Blarden, with -a gallant air. "Wonderful beautiful weather; d---- me, but it's like -the middle of summer. I'm just going out to take a bit of a tramp among -the bushes and lead goddesses," he added, not feeling, spite of all his -effrontery, quite at his ease in the presence of the elegant and -high-born girl; and, more confounded and abashed by the simple dignity -of her artless nature than he ever remembered to have been before, -under any circumstances whatever, he made his exit from the chamber. - -"Who is that man?" said the girl, drawing close to her brother's side, -and clinging timidly to his arm. "His face is familiar to me--I have -seen or dreamed of it before; it has been before me either in some -troubled scene or dream. I feel frightened and oppressed when he is -near me. Who is he, brother?" - -"Pshaw! nonsense, girl," said her brother, in vain attempting to appear -unconstrained and at his ease; "he is a very good, honest fellow, not, -as you see, the most polished in the world, but in essentials an -excellent fellow; you'll easily get over your antipathy--his oddity of -manner and appearance is soon forgotten, and in all other points he is -an admirable fellow. Pshaw! you have too much sense to hate a man for -his face and manner." - -"I do not hate him, brother," said Mary, "how could I? The man has -never wronged me; but there is something in his eye, in his air and -expression, in his whole appearance, sinister and terrible--something -which oppresses and terrifies me. I can scarcely move or breathe in his -presence. I only hope that I may never meet him so near again." - -"Your hope is not likely to be realized, then," replied Ashwoode, -abruptly, "he makes a stay here of a week, or perhaps more." - -A silence followed, during which he revolved the expediency of hinting -at once at the designs of Blarden. As he thus paused, moodily plotting -how best to open the subject, the unconscious girl stood beside him, -and, looking fondly in his face, she said,-- - -"Dear brother, you must not be so sad. When all's done, what have we -lost but some of the wealth which we can spare? We have still enough, -quite enough. You shall live with your poor little sister, and I will -take care of you, and read to you, and sing to you whenever you are -sad; and we will walk together in the old green woods, and be far -happier and merrier than ever we could have been in the midst of cold -and heartless luxury and dissipation. Brother, dear brother, when shall -we go to Incharden?" - -"I can't say; I--I don't know that we shall go there at all," replied -he, shortly. - -Deep disappointment clouded the poor girl's face for a moment, but as -instantly the sweet smile returned, and she laid her hand -affectionately upon her brother's shoulder, and looked in his face. - -"Well, dear brother, wherever you go, there is _my_ home, and there I -will be happy--as happy as being with the only creature that cares for -me now can make me." - -"Perhaps there are others who care for you--ay--even more than I do," -said the young man deliberately, and fixing his eyes upon her -searchingly, as he spoke. - -"How, brother; what do you mean?" said the poor girl, faintly, and -turning pale as death. "Have you seen--have you heard from----" She -paused, trembling violently, and Ashwoode resumed,-- - -"No, no, child; I have neither seen nor heard from anyone whom you know -anything of. Why are you so agitated? Pshaw! nonsense." - -"I know not how it is, brother; I am depressed, and easily agitated -to-day," rejoined she; "perhaps it is that I cannot forget a fearful -dream which troubled me last night." - -"Tut, tut, child," replied he; "I thought you had other matters to -think of." - -"And so I have, God knows, dear brother," resumed she--"so I have; but -this dream haunted me long, and haunts me still; it was about you. I -dreamed that we were walking, lovingly, hand in hand, among the shady -walks in this old place; when, on a sudden, a great savage dog--just -like the old blood-hound you had shot last summer--came, with open jaws -and all its fangs exposed, springing towards us. I threw myself, -terrified, into your arms, but you grasped me, with iron strength, and -held me forth toward the frightful animal. I saw your face; it was -changed and horrible. I struggled--I screamed--and awakened, gasping -with afright." - -"A silly, unmeaning dream," said Ashwoode, slightly changing colour, -and turning from her. "You're not such a child, surely, as to let -_that_ trouble you." - -"No, indeed, brother," replied she, "I do not suffer it to trouble my -mind; but it has fastened somehow upon my imagination, and spite of all -I can do, the impression remains---- There--there--see that horrible -man staring in at us, from behind the evergreens," she added, glancing -at a large, tufted laurel, which partially screened the unprepossessing -form of Nicholas Blarden, who was intently watching the youthful pair -as they conversed. Perhaps conscious that he had been observed, he -quitted his lurking-place, and plunged deeper into the thick screen of -foliage. - -"Dear Henry," said she, turning imploringly toward her brother, "there -is something about that man which frightens me; my heart sickens -whenever I see him. I feel like some poor bird under the eye of a hawk. -I do not feel safe when he is looking at me; there is some evil -influence in his gaze--something bad, satanic, in his look and -presence; I dread him instinctively. For God's sake, dear, dear -brother, do not keep company with him--he will harm you--it cannot lead -to good." - -"This is mere folly--downright raving," said Ashwoode, vehemently, but -with an uneasiness which he could not conceal. "He is my guest, and -will remain so for some weeks. I must be civil to him--_both_ of us -must." - -"Surely, dear brother--after all I have said--you will not ask me to -associate with him during his stay, since stay he must," urged Mary. - -"We ought not to consult our whims at the expense of civility," -retorted the baronet, drily. - -"But surely my presence is not required," urged she. - -"You cannot tell how that may be," replied Ashwoode, abruptly, and then -added, abstractedly, as he walked slowly towards the door: "We often -speak, we know not what; we often stand, we know not where--necessity, -fate, destiny--whatever is, _must_ be. Let this be our philosophy, -Mary." - -Wholly at a loss to comprehend this incoherent speech, his sister -remained silent for some minutes. - -"Well, child, how say you?" exclaimed Ashwoode, turning suddenly round. - -"Dear brother," said she, "I would fain not meet that man any more -while he remains here. You will not ask me to come down." - -"A truce to this folly," exclaimed Ashwoode, with loud and sudden -emphasis. "You must--you _must_, I say, appear at breakfast, at dinner, -and at supper. You must see Blarden, and talk with him--he's _my_ -friend--you _must_ know him." Then checking himself, he added, in a -less vehement tone--"Mary, don't _act_ like a fool--you _are_ none: -these silly fancies must not be indulged--remember, he's _my_ friend. -There, there, be a good girl--no more folly." - -He came over, patted her cheek, and then turned abruptly from her, and -left the room. His parting caress, however, was not sufficient to -obliterate the painful impression which his momentary violence had -left, for in that brief space of angry excitement his countenance had -worn the self-same sinister expression which had appalled her in her -last night's dream. - - - - -CHAPTER XLI. - -OF O'CONNOR AND A CERTAIN TRAVELLING ECCLESIASTIC--AND HOW THE DARKNESS -OVERTOOK THEM. - - -It has become necessary, in order to a clear and chronologically -arranged exposition of events to return for a little while to our -melancholy young friend, Edmond O'Connor, who, with his faithful -squire, Larry Toole, following in close attendance upon his progress, -was now returning from a last visit to the poor fragment of his -patrimony, the wreck of his father's fortunes, and which consisted of a -few hundred acres of wild woodland, surrounding a small square tower -half gone to decay, and bidding fair to become in a few years a mere -roofless ruin. He had seen the few retainers of his family who still -remained, and bidden them a last farewell, and was now far in his -second day's leisurely journey toward the city of Dublin. - -The sun was fast declining among the rich and glowing clouds of an -autumnal evening, and pouring its melancholy lustre upon the woods and -the old towers of Leixlip, as the young man rode into that ancient -town. How different were his present feelings from those with which he -had last traversed the quiet little village--then his bright hopes and -cheery fancies had tinged every object he looked on with their own warm -and happy colouring; but now, alas! how mournful the reverse. With the -sweet illusions he had so fondly cherished had vanished all the charm -of all he saw; the scene was disenchanted now, and all seemed coloured -in the sombre and chastened hues of his own deep melancholy; the river, -with all its brawling falls and windings, filled his ear with plaintive -harmonies, and all its dancing foam-bells, that chased one another down -its broad eddies, glancing in the dim, discoloured light of the evening -sun, seemed but so many images of the wayward courses and light -illusions of human hope; even the old ivy-mantled towers, as he looked -upon their time-worn front, seemed to have suffered a century's decay -since last he beheld them; every scene that met his eye, and every -sound that floated to his ear on the still air of evening, was alike -charged with sadness. - -At a slow pace, and with a heart oppressed, he passed the little town, -and soon its trees, and humble roofs, and blue curling smoke were left -far behind him. He had proceeded more than a mile when the sun -descended, and the dusky twilight began to deepen. He spurred his -horse, and at a rate more suited to the limited duration of the little -light which remained, he rode at a sharp trot along the uneven way -toward Dublin. He had not proceeded far at this rate when he overtook a -gentleman on horseback, who was listlessly walking his steed in the -same direction, and who, on seeing a cavalier thus wending his way on -the same route, either with a view to secure good company upon the -road, or for some other less obvious purpose, spurred on also, and took -his place by the side of our young friend. O'Connor looked upon his -uninvited companion with a jealous eye, for his night adventure of a -few months since was forcibly recalled to his memory by the -circumstances of his present situation. The person who rode by his side -was, as well as he could descry, a tall, lank man, with a hooked nose, -heavy brows, and sallow complexion, having something grim and ascetic -in the character of his face. After turning slightly twice or thrice -towards O'Connor, as if doubtful whether to address him, the stranger -at length accosted the young man. - -"A fair evening this, sir," said he, "and just cool enough to make a -brisk ride pleasant." - -O'Connor assented drily, and without waiting for a renewal of the -conversation, spurred his horse into a canter, with the intention of -leaving his new companion behind. That personage was not, however, so -easily to be shaken off; he, in turn, put his horse to precisely the -same pace, and remarked composedly,-- - -"I see, sir, you wish to make the most of the light we've left us; dark -riding, they say, is dangerous riding hereabout. I suppose you ride for -the city?" - -O'Connor made no answer. - -"I presume you make Dublin your halting-place?" repeated the man. - -"You are at liberty, sir," replied O'Connor, somewhat sharply, "to -presume what you please; I have good reasons, however, for not caring -to bandy words with strangers. Where I rest for the night cannot -concern anybody but myself." - -"No offence, sir--no offence meant," replied the man, in the same even -tone, "and I hope none taken." - -A silence of some minutes ensued, during which O'Connor suddenly -slackened his horse's pace to a walk. The stranger made a corresponding -alteration in that of his. - -"Your pace, sir, is mine," observed the stranger. "We may as well -breathe our beasts a little." - -Another pause followed, which was at length broken by the stranger's -observing,-- - -"A lucky chance, in truth. A comrade is an important acquisition in -such a ride as ours promises to be." - -"I already have one of my own choosing," replied O'Connor drily; "I -ride attended." - -"And so do I," continued the other, "and doubtless our trusty squires -are just as happy in the rencounter as are their masters." - -A considerable silence ensued, which at length was broken by the -stranger. - -"Your reserve, sir," said he, "as well as the hour at which you travel, -leads me to conjecture that we are both bound on the same errand. Am I -understood?" - -"You must speak more plainly if you would be so," replied O'Connor. - -"Well, then," resumed he, "I half believe that we shall meet -to-night--where it is no sin to speak loyalty." - -"Still, sir, you leave me in the dark as to your meaning," replied -O'Connor. - -"At a certain well of sweet water," said the man with deliberate -significance--"is it not so--eh--am I right?" - -"No, sir," replied O'Connor, "your sagacity is at fault; or else, it -may be, your wit is too subtle, or mine too dull; for, if your -conjectures be correct, I cannot comprehend your meaning--nor indeed is -it very important that I should." - -"Well, sir," replied he, "I am seldom wrong when I hazard a guess of -this kind; but no matter--if we meet we shall be better friends, I -promise you." - -They had now reached the little town of Chapelizod, and darkness had -closed in. At the door of a hovel, from which streamed a strong red -light, the stranger drew his bridle, and called for a cup of water. A -ragged urchin brought it forth. - -"_Pax Domini vobiscum_," said the stranger, restoring the vessel, and -looking upward steadfastly for a minute, as if in mental prayer, he -raised his hat, and in doing so exhibited the monkish tonsure upon his -head; and as he sate there motionless upon his horse, with his sable -cloak wrapped in ample folds about him, and the strong red light from -the hovel door falling upon his thin and well-marked features, bringing -into strong relief the prominences of his form and attire, and shining -full upon the drooping head of the tired steed which he bestrode--this -equestrian figure might have furnished no unworthy study for the pencil -of Schalken. - -In a few minutes they were again riding side by side along the street -of the straggling little town. - -"I perceive, sir," said O'Connor, "that you are a clergyman. Unless -this dim light deceives me, I saw the tonsure when you raised your hat -just now." - -"Your eyes deceived you not--I am one of a religious order," replied -the man, "and perchance not on that account a more acceptable companion -to you." - -"Indeed you wrong me, reverend sir," said O'Connor. "I owe you an -apology for receiving your advances as I have done; but experience has -taught me caution; and until I know something of those whom I encounter -on the highway, I hold with them as little communication as I can well -avoid. So far from being the less acceptable a companion to me by -reason of your sacred office, believe me, you need no better -recommendation. I am myself an humble child of the true Church; and her -ministers have never claimed respect from me in vain." - -The priest looked searchingly at the young man; but the light afforded -but an imperfect scrutiny. - -"You say, sir," rejoined he after a pause, "that you acknowledge our -father of Rome--that you are one of those who eschew heresy, and cling -constantly to the old true faith--that you are free from the mortal -taint of Protestant infidelity." - -"That do I with my whole heart," rejoined O'Connor. - -"Are you, moreover, one of those who still look with a holy confidence -to the return of better days? When the present order of things, this -usurped government and abused authority, shall pass away like a dark -dream, and fly before the glory of returning truth. Do you look for the -restoration of the royal heritage to its rightful owner, and of these -afflicted countries to the bosom of mother Church?" - -"Happy were I to see these things accomplished," rejoined O'Connor; -"but I hold their achievement, except by the intervention of Almighty -Providence, impossible. Methinks we have in Ireland neither the spirit -nor the power to do it. The people are heartbroken; and so far from -coming to the field in this quarrel, they dare not even speak of it -above their breath." - -"Young man, you speak as one without understanding. You know not this -people of Ireland of whom you speak. Believe me, sir, the spirit to -right these things is deep and strong in the bosoms of the people. What -though they do not cry aloud in agony for vengeance, are they therefore -content, and at their heart's ease? - - "'Quamvis tacet Hermogenes, cantor tamen atque, - Optimus est modulator.' - -"Their silence is not dumbness--you shall hear them speak plainly yet." - -"Well, it may be so," rejoined O'Connor; "but be the people ever so -willing, another difficulty arises--where are the men to lead them -on?--who are they?" - -The priest again looked quickly and suspiciously at the speaker; but -the gloom prevented his discerning the features of his companion. He -became silent--perhaps half-repenting his momentary candour, and rode -slowly forward by O'Connor's side, until they had reached the extremity -of the town. The priest then abruptly said,-- - -"I find, sir, I have been wrong in my conjecture. Our paths at this -point diverge, I believe. You pursue your way by the river's side, and -I take mine to the left. Do not follow me. If you be what you represent -yourself, my command will be sufficient to prevent your doing so; if -otherwise, I ride armed, and can enforce what I conceive necessary to -my safety. Farewell." - -And so saying, the priest turned his horse's head in the direction -which he had intimated, rode up the steep ascent which loomed over the -narrow level by the river's side; and his dark form quickly disappeared -beyond the brow of the dusky hill. O'Connor's eyes instinctively -followed the retreating figure of his companion, until it was lost in -the profound darkness; and then looking back for any dim intimation of -the presence of his trusty follower, he beheld nothing but the dark -void. He listened; but no sound of horse's hoofs betokened pursuit. He -shouted--he called upon his squire by name; but all in vain; and at -length, after straining his voice to its utmost pitch for six or ten -minutes without eliciting any other reply than the prolonged barking of -half the village curs in Chapelizod, he turned away, and pursued his -course alone, consoling himself with the reflection that his attendant -was at least as well acquainted with the way as was he himself, and -that he could not fail to reach the "Cock and Anchor" whenever he -pleased to exert himself for the purpose. - - - - -CHAPTER XLII. - -THE SQUIRES. - - -O'Connor had scarcely been joined by the priest, when Larry Toole, who -jogged quietly on, pipe in mouth, behind his master, was accosted by -his reverence's servant, a stout, clean-limbed fellow, arrayed in blue -frieze, who rode a large, ill-made horse, and bumped listlessly along -at that easy swinging jog at which our southern farmers are wont to -ride. The fellow had a shrewd eye, and a pleasant countenance withal to -look upon, and might be in years some five or six and thirty. - -"God save you, neighbour," said he. - -"God save you kindly," rejoined Mr. Toole graciously. - -"A plisint evenin' for a quiet bit iv a smoke," rejoined the stranger. - -"None better," rejoined Larry, scanning the stranger's proportions, to -see whether, in his own phrase, "he liked his cut." The scrutiny -evidently resulted favourably, for Larry removed his pipe, and handing -it to his new acquaintance, observed courteously, "Maybe you'd take a -draw, neighbour." - -"I thank you kindly," said the stranger, as he transferred the utensil -from Larry's mouth to his own. "It's turning cowld, I think. I wish to -the Lord we had a dhrop iv something to warm us," observed he, speaking -out of the unoccupied corner of his mouth. - -"We'll be in Chapelizod, plase God," said Larry Toole, "in half an -hour, an' if ould Tim Delany isn't gone undher the daisies, maybe we -won't have a taste iv his best." - -"Are _you_ follyin' that gintleman?" inquired the stranger, with his -pipe indicating O'Connor, "that gintleman that the masther is talking -to?" - -"I am _so_," rejoined Larry promptly, "an' a good gintleman he is; an' -that's your masther there. What sort is he?" - -"Oh, good enough, as masthers goes--no way surprisin' one way or th' -other." - -"Where are you goin' to?" pursued Larry. - -"I never axed, bedad," rejoined the man, "only to folly on, wherever he -goes--an' divil a hair I care where that is. What way are you two -goin'?" - -"To Dublin, to be sure," rejoined Larry. "I wisht we wor there now. -What the divil makes him ride so unaiqual--sometimes cantherin', and -other times mostly walkin'--it's mighty nansinsical, so it is." - -"By gorra, I don't know, anless fancy alone," rejoined the stranger. - -"Here's your pipe," continued he, after some pause, "an' I thank you -kindly, misther--misther--how's this they call you?" - -"Misther Larry Toole is the name I was christened by," rejoined the -gentleman so interrogated. - -"An' a rale illegant name it is," replied the stranger. "The Tooles is -a royal family, an' may the Lord restore them to their rights." - -"Amen, bedad," rejoined Larry devoutly. - -"My name's Ned Mollowney," continued he, anticipating Larry's -interrogatory, "from the town of Ballydun, the plisintest spot in the -beautiful county iv Tipperary. There isn't it's aquil out for fine men -and purty girls." Larry sighed. - -The conversation then took that romantic turn which best suited the -melancholy chivalry of Larry's mind, after which the current of their -mutual discoursing, by the attraction of irresistible association, led -them, as they approached the little village, once more into suggestive -commentaries upon the bitter cold, and sundry pleasant speculations -respecting the creature comforts which awaited them under Tim Delany's -genial roof-tree. - -"The holy saints be praised," said Ned Mollowney, "we're in the village -at last. The tellin' iv stories is the dhryest work that ever a boy -tuck in hand. My mouth is like a cindher all as one." - -"Tim Delany's is the second house beyant that wind in the street," said -Larry, pointing down the road as they advanced. "We'll jist get down -for a minute or two, an' have somethin' warrum by the fire; we'll -overtake the gintlemen asy enough." - -"I'm agreeable, Mr. Toole," said the accommodating Ned Mollowney. "Let -the gintlemen take care iv themselves. They're come to an age when they -ought to know what they're about." - -"This is it," said Larry, checking his horse before a low thatched -house, from whose doorway the cheerful light was gleaming upon the -bushes opposite. - -The two worthies dismounted, and entered the humble place of -entertainment. Tim Delany's company was singularly fascinating, and his -liquor was, if possible, more so--besides, the evening was chill, and -his hearth blazed with a fire, the very sight of which made the blood -circulate freely, and the finger-tops grow warm. Larry Toole was -prepossessed in favour of Ned Mollowney, and Ned Mollowney had fallen -in love with Larry Toole, so that it is hardly to be wondered at that -the two gentlemen yielded to the combined seduction of their situation, -and seated themselves snugly by the fire, each with his due allowance -of stimulating liquor, and with a very vague and uncertain kind of -belief in the likelihood of their following their masters respectively -until they had made themselves particularly comfortable. It was not -until after nearly two hours of blissful communion with his delectable -companion, that Larry Toole suddenly bethought him of the fact that he -had allowed his master, at the lowest calculation, time enough to have -ridden to and from the "Cock and Anchor" at least half a dozen times. -He, therefore, hurriedly bade good-night, with many a fond vow of -eternal friendship for the two companions of his princely revelry, -mounted his horse with some little difficulty, and becoming every -moment more and more confused, and less and less perpendicular, found -himself at length--with an indistinct remembrance of having had several -hundred falls upon every possible part of his body, and upon every -possible geological substance, from soft alluvial mud up to plain -lime-stone, during the course of his progress--within the brick -precincts of the city. The horse, with an instinctive contempt for Mr. -Toole's judgment, wholly disregarded that gentleman's vehement appeals -to the bridle, and quietly pursued his well-known way to the hostelry -of the "Cock and Anchor." - -Our honest friend had hardly dismounted, which he did with one eye -closed, and a hiccough, and a happy smile which mournfully contrasted -with his filthy and battered condition, when he at once became -absolutely insensible, from which condition he did not recover till -next morning, when he found himself partially in bed, quite undressed, -with the exception of his breeches, boots, and spurs, which he had -forgotten to remove, and which latter, along with his feet, he had -deposited upon the pillow, allowing his head to slope gently downward -towards the foot of the bed. - -As soon as Mr. Toole had ascertained where he was, and begun to -recollect how he came there, he removed his legs from the pillow, and -softly slid upon the floor. His first solicitude was for his clothes, -the spattered and villainous condition of which appalled him; his next -was to endeavour to remember whether or not his master had witnessed -his weakness. Absorbed in this severe effort of memory, he sat upon the -bedside, gazing upon the floor, and scratching his head, when the door -opened, and his friend the groom entered the chamber. - -"I say, old gentleman, you've been having a little bit of a spree," -observed he, gazing pleasantly upon the disconsolate figure of the -little man, who sat in his shirt and jack-boots, staring at him with a -woe-begone and bewildered air. "Why, you had a bushel of mud about your -body when you came in, and no hat at all. Well, you _had_ a pleasant -night of it--there's no denying that." - -"No hat;" said Larry desolately. "It isn't possible I dropped my hat -off my head unknownest. Bloody wars, my hat! is it gone in airnest?" - -"Yes, young gentleman, you came here bareheaded. The hat _is_ gone, and -that's a fact," replied the groom. - -"I thought my coat was bad enough; but--oh! blur-anagers, my hat!" -ejaculated Larry with abandonment. "Bad luck go with the -liquor--tare-an-ouns, my hat!" - -"There's a shoe off the horse," observed the groom; "and the seat is -gone out of your breeches as clean as if it never was in it. Well, but -you _had_ a pleasant evening of it--you had." - -"An' my breeches desthroyed--ruined beyant cure! See, Tom Berry, take a -blundherbuz, will you, and put me out of pain at wonst. My breeches! -Oh, divil go with the liquor! Holy Moses, is it possible?--my -breeches!" - -In an agony of contrition and desperate remorse, Larry Toole clasped -his hands over his eyes and remained for some minutes silent; at length -he said-- - -"An' what did the masther say? Don't be keeping me in pain--out with it -at wonst." - -"What master?" inquired the groom. - -"What masther?" echoed Mr. Toole--"why Mr. O'Connor, to be sure." - -"I'm sure I can't say," replied the man; "I have not seen him this -month." - -"Wasn't he here before me last night?" inquired the little man. - -"No, nor after neither," replied his visitor. - -"Do you mane to tell me that he's not in the house at all?" -interrogated Mr. Toole. - -"Yes," replied he, "Mr. O'Connor is _not_ in the house; the horse did -not cross the yard this month. Will that do you?" - -"Be the hoky," said Larry, "that's exthramely quare. But are you raly -sure and quite sartin?" - -"Yes, I tell you yes," replied he. - -"Well, well," said Mr. Toole, "but that puts me to the divil's rounds -to undherstand it--not come at all. What in the world's gone with -him--not come--where else could he go to? Begorra, the whole iv the -occurrences iv last night is a blaggard mysthery. What the divil's gone -with him--where is he at all?--why couldn't he wait a bit for me an' -I'd iv tuck the best care iv him? but gintlemen is always anruly. What -the divil's keepin' him? I wouldn't be surprised if he made a baste iv -himself in some public-house last night. A man ought never to take a -dhrop more than jist what makes him plisant--bad luck to it. Lend me a -breeches, an' I'll pray for you all the rest of my days. I must go out -at wonst an' look for him; maybe he's at Mr. Audley's lodgings--ay, -sure enough, it's there he is. Bad luck to the liquor. Why the divil -did I let him go alone? Oh! sweet bad luck to it," he continued in -fierce anguish, as he held up the muddy wreck of his favourite coat -before his aching eyes--"my elegant coat--bad luck to it again--an' my -beautiful hat--once more bad luck to it; an' my breeches--oh! it's -fairly past bearin'--my elegant breeches! Bad luck to it for a -threacherous drop--an' the masther lost, and no one knows what's done -with him. Up with that poker, I tell you, and blow my brains out at -once; there's nothing before me in this life but the divil's own -delight--finish me, I tell you, and let me rest in the shade. I'll -never hould up my head again, there's no use in purtendin'. Oh! bad -luck to the dhrink!" - -In this distracted frame of mind did Larry continue for nearly an hour, -after which, with the aid of some contributions from the wardrobe of -honest Tom Berry, he clothed himself, and went forth in quest of his -master. - - - - -CHAPTER XLIII. - -THE WILD WOOD--THE OLD MANSION-HOUSE OF FINISKEA--SECRETS, AND A -SURPRISE. - - -O'Connor pursued his way towards the city, following the broken -horse-track, which then traversed the low grounds which lie upon the -left bank of the Liffey. The Phoenix Park, or, as it was then called, -the Royal Park, was at the time of which we write a much wilder place -than it now is. There were no trim plantations nor stately clumps of -tufted trees, no signs of care or culture. Broad patches of shaggy -thorn spread with little interruption over the grounds, and regular -roads were then unknown. The darkness became momentarily deeper and -more deep as O'Connor pursued his solitary way; and the difficulty of -proceeding grew every instant greater, for the heavy rains had -interrupted his path with deep sloughs and pools, which became at -length so frequent, and so difficult of passage, that he was fain to -turn from the ordinary track, and seek an easier path along the high -grounds which overhang the river. The close screen of the wild gnarled -thorns which covered the upper level on which he now moved, still -further deepened the darkness; and he became at length so entirely -involved in the pitchy gloom, that he dismounted, and taking his horse -by the head, led him forward through the tangled brake, and under the -knotted branches of the old hoary thorns, stumbling among the briers -and the crooked roots, and every moment encountering the sudden -obstruction, either of some stooping branch, or the trunk of one of the -old trees; so that altogether his progress was as tedious and -unpleasant as it well could be. His annoyance became the greater as he -proceeded; for he was so often compelled to turn aside, and change his -course, to avoid these interruptions, that in the utter darkness he -began to grow entirely uncertain whether or not he was moving in the -right direction. The more he paused, and the oftener he reflected, the -more entirely puzzled and bewildered did he become. Glad indeed would -he have been that he had followed the track upon which he had at first -entered, and run the hazard of all the sloughs and pools which crossed -it; but he was now embarked in another route; and even had he desired -it, so perplexed was he, that he could not have effected his retreat. -Fully alive to the ridiculousness, as well as the annoyance of his -situation, he slowly and painfully stumbled forward, conscious that if -only he could move for half an hour or thereabout consistently in the -same direction, he must disengage himself in some quarter or another -from the entanglement in which he was involved. In vain he looked round -him; nothing but entire darkness encountered him. In vain he listened -for any sound which might intimate the neighbourhood of any living -thing. Nothing but the hushed soughing of the evening breeze through -the old boughs was audible; and he was forced to continue his route in -the same troublesome uncertainty. - -At length he saw, or thought he saw, a red light gleaming through the -trees. It disappeared--it came again. He stopped, uncertain whether it -was one of those fitful marsh-fires which but mock the perplexity of -benighted travellers; but no--this light shone clearly, and with a -steady beam, through the branches; and towards it he directed his -steps, losing it now, and again recovering it, till at length, after a -longer probation than he had at first expected, he gained a clear space -of ground, intersected only by a few broken hedges and ditches, but -free from the close wood which had so entirely darkened his advance. In -this position he was enabled to discern that the light which had guided -him streamed from the window of an old shattered house, partially -surrounded by a dilapidated wall, having a few ruinous outhouses -attached to it. In this building he beheld the old mansion-house of -Finiskea, which then occupied the ground on which at present stands the -powder-magazine, and which, by a slight alteration in sound, though -without any analogy in meaning, has given its name to the Phoenix Park. -The light streamed through the diamond panes of a narrow casement; and -still leading his horse, O'Connor made his way over the broken fences -towards the old house. As he approached, he perceived several figures -moving to and fro in the chamber from which the light issued, and -detected, or thought he did so, among them the remarkable form of the -priest who had lately been his companion upon the road. As he advanced, -someone inside drew a curtain across the window, though, as O'Connor -conjectured, wholly unaware of his approach, and thus precluded any -further reconnoitering on his part. - -"At all events," thought he, "they can spare me some one to put me upon -my way. They can hardly complain if I intrude upon such an errand." - -With this reflection, he led his horse round the corner of the building -to the door, which was sheltered by a small porch roofed with tiles. By -the faint light, which in the open space made objects partially -discernible, he perceived two men, as it appeared to him, fast -asleep--half sitting and half lying on the low step of the door. He had -just come near enough to accost them, when, somewhat to his surprise, -he was seized from behind in a powerful grip, and his arms pinioned to -his sides. A single antagonist he would easily have shaken off; but a -reinforcement was at hand. - -"Up, boys--be stirring--open the door," cried the hoarse voice of the -person who held O'Connor. - -The two figures started to their feet; their strength, combined with -the efforts of his first assailant, effectually mastered O'Connor, and -one of them shoved the door open. - -"Pretty watch you keep," said he, as the party hurried their prisoner, -wholly without the power of resistance, into the house. - -Three or four powerful, large-limbed fellows, well armed, were seated -in the hall, and arose on his entrance. O'Connor saw that resistance -against such odds were idle, and resolved patiently to submit to the -issue, whatever it might be. - -"Gentlemen that's caught peeping is sometimes made to see more than -they have a mind to," observed one of O'Connor's conductors. - -Another removed his sword, and having satisfied himself that he had not -any other weapon upon his person, observed,-- - -"You may let his elbows loose; but jist keep him tight by the collar." - -"Let the gentlemen know there's a bird limed," observed the first -speaker; and one of the others passed from the narrow hall to execute -the mission. - -After some little delay, O'Connor, who awaited the result with more of -curiosity and impatience than of alarm, was conducted by two of the -armed men who had secured him through a large passage terminating in a -chamber, which they also traversed, and by a second door at its far -extremity found entrance into a rude but spacious apartment, floored -with tiles, and with a low ceiling of dark plank, supported by -ponderous beams. A large wood fire burned in the hearth, beside which -some half dozen men were congregated; several others were seated by a -massive table, on which were writing materials, with which two or three -of them were busily employed; a number of open letters were also strewn -upon it, and here and there a brace of horse-pistols or a carbine -showed that the party felt neither very secure, nor very much disposed -to surrender without a struggle, should their worst anticipations be -realized, in any attempt to surprise them. - -Most of those who were present bore, in their disordered dress and -mud-soiled boots, the evidence of recent travel. They were lighted -chiefly by the broad, uncertain gleam of the blazing wood fire, in -which the misty flame of two or three wretched candles which burned -upon the table shone pale and dim as the last stars of night in the red -dawn of an autumnal sun. In this strong and ruddy light the groups of -figures, variously attired, some seated by the table, and others -standing with their ample cloaks still folded around them, acquired by -the contrast of broad light and shade a character of picturesqueness -which had in it something wild and imposing. This singular tableau -occupied the further end of the room, which was one of considerable -length, and as the prisoner was led forward to the bar of the tribunal, -those who composed it eyed him sternly and fixedly. - -"Bind his hands fast," said a lean and dark-featured man, with a -singularly forbidding aspect and a deep, stern voice, who sat at the -head of the table with a pile of papers beside him. Spite of O'Connor's -struggles, the order was speedily executed, and with such good-will -that the blood almost started from his nails. - -"Now, sir," continued the same speaker, "who are you, and what may your -errand be?" - -"Before I answer your questions you must satisfy me that you have -authority to ask them," replied O'Connor. "Who, I pray, are you, who -dare to seize the person, and to bind the limbs of a free man? I shall -know this ere one of your questions shall have a reply." - -"I have seen you, young sir, before--scarce an hour since," observed -one of those who stood by the hearth. "Look at me, and say do you -remember my features?" - -"I do," replied O'Connor, who had no difficulty in recognizing those of -the priest who had parted from him so abruptly on that evening--"of -course I recollect your face; we rode side by side from Leixlip -to-day." - -"You recollect my caution too--you cannot have forgotten that," -continued the priest, menacingly. "You know how peremptorily I warned -you against following me, yet you have dogged me here; on your own head -be the consequences--the fool shall perish in his folly." - -"I have _not_ dogged you here, sir," replied O'Connor; "I seek my way -to Dublin. The river banks are so soft that a horse had better swim -than seek to keep them; I therefore took the upper ground, and after -losing myself among the woods, at length saw a light, reached it, and -here I am." - -The priest heard the statement with a sinister smile. - -"A truce to these inventions, sir," said he. "It is indeed _possible_ -that you speak the truth, but it is in the highest degree _probable_ -that you lie; it is, in a word, plain--satisfactorily plain, that you -followed me hither, as I suspected you might have done; you have dogged -me, sir, and you have seen all that you sought to behold; you have seen -my place of destination and my company. I care not with what motive you -have acted--that is between yourself and your Maker. If you are a spy, -which I shrewdly suspect, Providence has defeated your treason, and -punished the traitor; if mere curiosity impelled you, you will remember -that ill-directed curiosity was the sin which brought death upon -mankind, and cease to wonder that its fruits may be bitter to yourself. -What say you, young man?" - -"I have told you plainly how I happened to reach this place," replied -O'Connor; "I have told you once--I will repeat the statement no more; -and once again I ask, on what authority you question me, and dare thus -to bind my hands and keep me here against my will?" - -"Authority sufficient to satisfy our own consciences," rejoined the -priest. "The responsibility rests not upon you; enough it is for you to -know that we have the power to detain you, and that we exercise that -power, as we most probably shall _another_, still less conducive to -your comfort." - -"You have the power to make me captive, I admit," rejoined -O'Connor--"you have the power to murder me, as you threaten, but though -power to keep or kill is all the justification a robber or a bravo -needs, methinks such an argument should hardly satisfy a consecrated -minister of Christ." - -The expression with which the priest regarded the young man grew -blacker and more truculent at this rebuke, and after a silence of a few -seconds he replied,-- - -"We are doubly authorized in what we do--ay, trebly warranted, young -traitor. God Almighty has given us the instinct of self-defence, which -in a righteous cause it is laudable to consult and indulge; the Church, -too, tells us in these times to deal strictly with the malignant -persecutors of God's truth; and lastly, we have a royal warranty--the -authority of the rightful king of these realms, investing us with -powers to deal summarily with rebels and traitors. Let this satisfy -you." - -"I honour the king," rejoined O'Connor, "as truly as any man here, -seeing that _my_ father lost all in the service of his illustrious -sire, but I need some more satisfactory assurance of his delegated -authority than the bare assertion of a violent man, of whom I know -absolutely nothing, and until you show me some instrument empowering -you to act thus, I will not acknowledge your competency to subject me -to an examination, and still resolutely protest against your detaining -me here." - -"You refuse, then, to answer our questions?" said the hard-featured -little person who sat at the far end of the table. - -"Until you show authority to put them, I peremptorily _do_ refuse to -answer them," replied the young man. - -The little person looked expressively at the priest, who appeared to -hold a high influence among the party. He answered the look by -saying,-- - -"His blood be upon his own head." - -"Nay, not so fast, holy father; let us debate upon this matter for a -few minutes, ere we execute sentence," said a singularly noble-looking -man who stood beside the priest. "Remove the prisoner," he added, with -a voice of command, "and keep him strictly guarded." - -"Well, be it so," said he, reluctantly. - -The little man who sat at the head of the table made a gesture to those -who guarded O'Connor, and the order thus given and sanctioned was at -once carried into execution. - - - - -CHAPTER XLIV. - -THE DOOM. - - -The young man was conveyed from the chamber by his two athletic -conductors, the door closed upon the deliberations of the stern -tribunal who were just about to debate upon the question of his life or -death, and he was led round the corner of a lobby, a few steps from the -chamber where his judges sat; a stout door in the wall was pushed open -and he himself thrust through it into a cold, empty apartment, in -perfect darkness, and the door shut and barred behind him. - -Here, in solitude and darkness, the horrors of his situation rushed -upon him with tremendous and overwhelming reality. His life was in the -hands of fierce and relentless men, by whom, he had little doubt, he -was already judged and condemned; bound and helpless, he must await, -without the power of hastening or of deferring his fate by a single -minute, the cold-blooded deliberations of the conclave who sat within. -Unable even to hear the progress of the debate on whose result his life -was suspended, a faint and dizzy sickness came upon him, and the cold -dew burst from every pore; ghastly, shapeless images of horror hurried -with sightless speed across his mind, and his brain throbbed with the -fearful excitement of madness. With a desperate effort he roused his -energies; but what could human ingenuity, even sharpened by the -presence of urgent and terrific danger, suggest or devise? His hands -were firmly bound behind his back; in vain he tugged with all his -strength, in the fruitless hope of disengaging the cords which crushed -them together. He groaned in downright agony as, strength and hope -exhausted, he gave up the desperate attempt; nothing then could be -done; there remained for him no hope--no chance. In this horrible -condition he walked with slow steps to and fro in the dark chamber, in -vain endeavouring to compose his terrible agitation. - -"Were my hands but free," thought he, "I should let the villains know -that against any odds a resolute man may sell his life dearly. But it -is in vain to struggle; they have bound me here but too securely." - - [Illustration: "He made his way to the aperture." - _To face page 223._] - -Thus saying, he leaned himself against the partition, to await, -passively, the event which he knew could not be far distant. The -surface against which he leaned was not that of the wall--it yielded -slightly to his pressure--it was a door. With his knee and shoulder he -easily forced it open, and entered another chamber, at the far-side of -which he distinctly saw a stream of light, which, passing through a -chink, fell upon the opposite wall, and, at the same time, he clearly -heard the muffled sound of voices in debate. He made his way to the -aperture through which the light found entrance, and as he did so, the -sound of the voices fell more and more distinctly upon his ear. A small -square, of about two feet each way, was cut in the wall, affording an -orifice through which, probably, the closet in which he stood was -imperfectly lighted in the daytime. A plank shutter was closed over -this, and barred upon the outside, through the imperfect joints of -which the light had found its way, and O'Connor now scanned the -contents of the outer chamber. It was that in which the assembly, in -whose presence he had, but a few minutes before, been standing, were -congregated. A low, broad-shouldered man, whose dress was that of -mourning, and who wore his own hair, which descended in meagre ringlets -of black upon either side, leaving the bald summit of his head exposed, -and who added to the singularity of his appearance not a little by a -long, thick beard, which covered his chin and upper lip--this man, who -sat nearly opposite to the opening through which O'Connor looked, was -speaking and addressing himself to some person who stood, as it -appeared, divided by little more than the thickness of the wall from -the party whose life he was debating. - -"And against all this," continued the speaker, "what weighs the life of -one man--one life, at best useless to the country, and useless to the -king--at _best_, I say? What came we here for? No light matter to take -in hand, sirs; to be pursued with no small risk; each comes hither, -_cinctus gladio_, in the cause of the king. That cause with our own -lives we are bound to maintain; and why not, if need be, at the cost of -the lives of others? No good can come of sparing this fellow--at the -best, no advantage to the cause: and, on the other hand, should he -prove a traitor, a spy, or even an idle babbler, the heaviest damage -may befall us. Tush, tush, gentlemen, it is ill straining at gnats in -such times. We are here a court-martial, or no court at all. If I find -that such dangerous vacillation as this carries it in your councils, I -shall, for one, henceforward hang my sword over the mantel-piece, and -obey the new laws. What! one life against such a risk--one execution, -to save the cause and secure us all. To us, who have served in the -king's wars, and hanged rebels by the round dozen--even on suspicion of -being so--such indecision seems incredible. There ought not to be two -words about the matter. Put him to death." - -Having thus acquitted himself, this somewhat unattractive personage -applied himself, with much industry and absorption, to the task of -chopping, shredding, rolling up, and otherwise preparing a piece of -tobacco for the bowl of his pipe. - -"I confess," said someone whom O'Connor could not see, "that in -pleading what may be said on behalf of this young man, I have no ground -to go upon beyond a mere instinctive belief in the poor fellow's -honesty, and in the truth of his story." - -"Pardon me, sir," replied one in whose voice O'Connor thought he -recognized that of the priest, "if I say, that to act upon such -fanciful impressions, as if they were grounded upon evidence, were, in -nine cases out of every ten, the most transcendent and mischievous -folly. I repeat my own conviction, upon something like satisfactory -evidence, that he is _not_ honest. I talked with the fellow this -evening--perhaps a little too freely--but in that conference, if he -lied not, I learned that he belonged to that most dangerous class--the -worst with whom we have to contend--the lukewarm, professing, passive -Catholics--the very stuff of which the worst kind of spies and -informers are made. He, no doubt, guessed, from what I said--for, to be -plain with you, I spoke too freely by a great deal, in the belief, I -know not how assumed, that he was one of ourselves--he guessed, I say, -something of the nature of my mission, and tracked me hither--at all -events, by some strange coincidence, hither he came. It is for you to -weigh the question of probabilities." - -"It matters not, in my mind, why or how he came hither," observed the -ill-favoured gentleman, who sate at the head of the table; "he _is_ -here, and he hath seen our meeting, and could identify many of us. This -is too large a confidence to repose in a stranger, and I for one do not -like it, and therefore I say let him be killed without any more parley -or debate." - -The old man paused, and a silence followed. With an agonized attention, -O'Connor listened for one word or movement of dissent; it came not. - -"All agreed?" said the bearded hero, preparing to light his tobacco -pipe at the candle. "Well, so I expected." - -The little man who had spoken before him knocked sharply with the butt -of a pistol upon the table, and O'Connor heard the door of the room -open. The same person beckoned with his hand, and one of the stalwart -men who had assisted in securing him, advanced to the foot of the -board. - -"Let a grave be digged in the orchard," said he, "and when it is ready, -bring the prisoner out and despatch him, Let it be all done and the -grave closed in half an hour." - -The man made a rude obeisance, and left the room in silence. - -Bound as he was, O'Connor traced the four walls of the room, in the -vague hope that he might discover some other outlet from the chamber -than that which he had just entered. But in vain; nothing encountered -him but the hard, cold wall; and even had it been otherwise, thus -helplessly manacled, what would it have availed him? He passed into the -room into which he had been first thrust by the two guards, and in a -state little short of frenzy, he cast himself upon the floor. - -"Oh God!" said he, "it is terrible to see death thus creeping toward -me, and not to have the power to help myself. I am doomed--my life -already devoted, and before another hour I shall lie under the clay, a -corpse. Is there nothing to be done--no hope, no chance? Oh, God! -nothing!" - -As he lay in this strong agony, he heard, or thought he heard, the -clank of the spade upon the stony soil without. The work was begun--the -grave was opened. Madly he strained at the cords--he tugged with more -than human might--but all in vain. Still with horrible monotony he -heard the clank of the iron mattock tinkling and clanking in the -gravelly soil. Oh! that he could have stopped his ears to exclude the -maddening sound. The pulses smote upon his brain like floods of fire. -With closed eyes, and teeth set, and hands desperately clenched, he -drew himself together, in the awful spasms of uncontrollable horror. -Suddenly this fearful paroxysm departed, and a kind of awful calm -supervened. It was no dull insensibility to his real situation, but a -certain collectedness and calm self-possession, which enabled him to -behold the grim adversary of human kind, even arrayed in all the -terrors of his nearest approach, with a steady eye. - -"After all, when all's done, what have I to lose? Life had no more joys -for me--happy I could never more have been. Why should the miserable -dread death, and cling to life like cowards? What is it? A brief -struggle--the agony of a few minutes--the instinctive yearnings of our -nature after life; and this over, comes rest--eternal quiet." - -He then endeavoured, in prayer, earnestly to commend his spirit to its -Maker. While thus employed he heard steps upon the hard tiles of the -passage. His heart swelled as though it would burst. He rightly guessed -their mission. The bolt was slowly drawn; the dusky light of a lantern -streamed into the room, and revealed upon the threshold the forms of -three tall men. - -"Lift him up--rise him, boys," said he who carried the lantern. - -"You must come with us," said one of the two who advanced to O'Connor. - -Resistance was fruitless, and he offered none. A cold, sick, -overwhelming horror unstrung his joints and dimmed his sight. He -suffered them to lead him passively from the room. - - - - -CHAPTER XLV. - -THE MAN IN THE CLOAK--AND HIS BED-CHAMBER. - - -As O'Connor approached the outer door through which he was to pass to -certain and speedy death, it were not easy to describe or analyze his -sensations; every object he beheld in the brief glance he cast around -him as he passed along the hall appeared invested with a strangely -sharp and vivid intensity of distinctness, and had in its aspect -something indefinably spectral and ghastly--like things beheld under -the terrific spell of a waking nightmare. His tremendous situation -seemed to him something unreal, incredible; he walked in an appalling -dream; in vain he strove to fix his thoughts myriads and myriads of -scenes and incidents, never remembered since childhood's days, now with -strange distinctness and wild rapidity whirled through his brain. The -hall-door stood half open, and the fellow who led the way had almost -reached it, when it was on a sudden thrown wide, and a figure, muffled -in a cloak, confronted the funeral procession. - -The foremost man raised the ponderous weapon which he carried, and held -it poised in the air, ready to shiver the head of the intruder should -he venture to advance--the two guards who held O'Connor halted at the -same time. - -"How's this, Cormack!" said the stranger. "Do you lift your weapon -against the life of a friend?--rub your eyes and waken--how is it you -cannot know me?--you've been drinking, sirrah." - -At the sound of the speaker's voice the man at once lowered his hatchet -and withdrew, a little sulkily, like a rebuked mastiff. - -"What means all this?" continued he in the cloak, looking searchingly -at the party in the rear; "whom have we got here?--where made you this -prisoner? So, so--this must be looked to. How were you about to deal -with him, fellow?" he added, addressing himself to him whom he had -first encountered. - -"According to orders, captain," replied the man, doggedly. - -"And how may that have been?" interrogated the gentleman in the cloak. - -"_End_ him," replied he, sulkily. - -"Has he been before the council in the great parlour?" inquired the -stranger. - -"Yes, captain--long enough, too," replied the fellow. - -"And _they_ have ordered this execution?" added the newly arrived. - -"Yes, sir--who else? Come on, boys--bring him out, will you? Time is -running short," he added, addressing his comrades, and himself -approaching the door. - -"Re-conduct the prisoner to the council-board," said the stranger, in a -tone of command. - -Without a moment's hesitation they obeyed the order; and O'Connor, -followed by the muffled figure of the stranger, for the second time -entered the apartment where his relentless judges sate. - -The new-comer strode up the room to the table at which the self-styled -council were seated. - -"God save you, gentlemen," said he, "and prosper the good work ye have -taken in hand;" and thus speaking, he removed and cast upon the table -his hat and cloak, thereby revealing the square-built form and harsh -features of O'Hanlon. - -O'Connor no sooner recognized the traits of his mysterious -acquaintance, than he felt a hope which thrilled with a strange agony -of his heart--a hope--almost a conviction--that he should escape; and -unaccountable though it may appear, in this hope he felt more unmanned -and agitated than he had done but a few moments before, in the apparent -certainty of immediate and inevitable destruction. - -The salutation of O'Hanlon was warmly, almost enthusiastically, -returned, and after this interchange of friendly greeting, and a few -brief questions and answers touching comparatively indifferent matters, -he glanced toward O'Connor, and said,-- - -"I've so far presumed upon my favour with you, gentlemen, as to stay -your orders in respect of that young gentleman, whom, it would appear, -you have judged worthy of death. Death is a matter whose importance -I've never very much insisted upon--that you know--at least, several -among you, gentlemen, well know it, for you have seen me deal it -somewhat unsparingly when the cause required it; but I profess I do not -care in cool blood to take life upon insufficient reason. Life is -lightly taken; but once gone, who can restore it? Therefore, I think it -very meet that patient consideration should be had of all cases, when -such deliberation is possible and convenient, before proceeding to the -last irrevocable extremity. Pray you inform me upon what charges does -this youth stand convicted, that his life should be forfeit?" - -"It is briefly told," replied the priest. "On my way hither I -encountered him; we rode and conversed together; and conjecturing that -he travelled on the same errand as myself, I talked to him more freely -than in all discretion I ought to have done. I discovered my mistake, -and at Chapelizod I turned and left him, telling him with threats _not_ -to follow me; yet scarcely had I been here ten minutes, when this -gentleman is found lurking near the house--and about to enter it. He is -seized, bound, brought in here, and witnesses our assembly and -proceedings. Under these suspicious circumstances, and with the -knowledge of our meeting and its objects, were it wise to let him go? -Surely not so--but the veriest madness." - -"Young man," said O'Hanlon, turning to O'Connor, "what say you to -this?" - -"No more than what I already told these gentlemen--simply, that taking -the upper level to avoid the sloughs by the river side, I became in the -darkness entangled in the dense woods which cover these grounds, and at -length, after groping my way through the trees as best I might, arrived -by the merest chance at this place, and without the slightest -knowledge, or even suspicion, either that I was following the course -taken by that gentleman, or intruding myself upon any secret councils. -I have no more to say--this is the simple truth." - -"Well, gentlemen," said O'Hanlon, "you hear the prisoner's defence. -What think you?" - -"We have decided already, and he has now produced nothing new in his -favour. I see no reason why we should alter our decision," replied the -priest. - -"You would, then, put him to death?" inquired he. - -"Assuredly," replied the priest, calmly. - -"But this shall not be, gentlemen; he shall _not_ die. You shall slay -_me_ first," replied O'Hanlon. "I know this youth; and every word he -has spoken I believe. He is the son of one who risked his life a -hundred times, and lost all for the sake of the king and his -country--one who, throughout the desperate and fruitless struggles of -Irish loyalty, was in the field my constant comrade, and a braver and a -better one none ever need desire. The son of such a man shall not -perish by our hands; and for the risk of his talking elsewhere of this -night's adventure, I will be his surety, with my life, that he mentions -it to no one, and nowhere." - -A silence of some seconds followed this unexpected declaration. - -"Be it so, then," said the priest; "for my part, I offer no -resistance." - -"So say I," added the person who sat with the papers by him at the -extremity of the board. "On you, however, Captain O'Hanlon, rest the -whole responsibility of this act." - -"On me alone. Were there the possibility of treason in that youth, I -would myself perish ere I should move a hand to save him," replied -O'Hanlon. "I gladly take upon myself the whole accountability, and all -the consequences of the act." - -"Your life and liberty are yours, sir," said the priest, addressing -O'Connor; "see that you abuse neither to our prejudice. Unbind and let -the prisoner go." - -"Stay," said O'Hanlon. "Mr. O'Connor, I have one request to make." - -"It is granted ere it is made. What can I return you in exchange for my -life?" replied O'Connor. - -"I wish to speak with you to-night," continued O'Hanlon, "on matters -which concern you nearly. You will remain here--you can have a chamber. -Farewell for the present. Conduct Mr. O'Connor to my apartment," he -added, addressing the attendants, who were employed in loosening the -strained cords which bound his hands; and with this direction, O'Hanlon -mingled with the group at the hearth, and began to converse with them -in a low voice. - -O'Connor followed his guide through a narrow, damp-stained corridor, -with tiled flooring, and up a broad staircase, with heavy oaken -balustrades, and steps whose planks seemed worn by the tread of -centuries; and then along another passage, more cheerless still than -the first--several of the narrow windows, by which in the daytime it -was lighted, had now lost every vestige of glass, and even of the -wooden framework in which it had been fixed, and gave free admission to -the fitful night-wind, as well as to the straggling boughs of ivy which -mantled the old walls and clustered shelteringly about the ruined -casements. Screening the candle which he carried behind the flap of his -coat, to prevent its being extinguished by the gusts which somewhat -rudely swept the narrow passage, the man led O'Connor to a chamber, -which they both entered. It was not quite so cheerless as the desolate -condition of the approach to it might have warranted one in expecting; -a wood-fire, which had been recently replenished, blazed and crackled -briskly upon the hearth, and shed an uncertain but cheerful glow -through the recesses of the chamber. It was a spacious apartment, hung -with stamped leather, in many places stained and rotted by the damp, -and here and there hanging in rags from the wall, and exposing the -bare, mildewed plaster beneath. The furniture was scanty, and in -keeping with the place--old, dark, and crazy; and a wretched bed, with -very spare covering, was, as it seemed, temporarily strewn upon the -floor, near the hearth. The man placed the candle upon a small table, -black with age, and patched and crutched up like a battered pensioner, -and flinging some more wood upon the fire, turned and left the room in -silence. - -Alone, his first employment was to review again and again the strange -events of that night; his next was to conjecture the nature of -O'Hanlon's promised communication. Baffled in these latter -speculations, he applied himself to examine the old chamber in which he -sat, and to endeavour to trace the half-obliterated pattern of the -tattered hangings. These occupations, along with sundry speculations -just as idle, touching the original of a grim old portrait, faded and -torn, which hung over the fireplace, filled up the tedious hours which -preceded his expected interview with his preserver. - -At length the weary interval elapsed, and the anxiously expected moment -arrived. The door opened, and O'Hanlon entered. He approached the young -man, who advanced to meet him, and extending his hand, grasped that of -O'Connor with a warm and friendly pressure. - - - - -CHAPTER XLVI. - -THE DOUBLE CONFERENCE--OLD PAPERS. - - -"When last I saw you," said O'Hanlon, seating himself before the -hearth, and motioning O'Connor to take a chair also, "I told you that -you ought to tame your rash young blood, and gave you thereupon an old -soldier's best advice. It seems, however, that you are wayward and -headlong still. Young soldiers look for danger--old ones are content to -meet it when it comes, knowing well that it will come often enough, -uninvited and unsought; nevertheless, we will pass by this night's -adventure, and turn to other matters. First, however, it were meet and -necessary that you should have somewhat to refresh you; you must needs -be weary and exhausted." - -"If you can give me some wine, it will be very welcome. I care not for -anything more to-night," replied O'Connor. - -"That can I," replied he, "and will myself do you reason." He arose, -and after a few minutes' absence entered with two flasks, whose dust -and cobwebs bespoke their antiquity, and filled two large, long-stemmed -glasses with the generous liquor. - -"Young man," said O'Hanlon, "from the moment I saw you in the inner -room yonder, I know not how or wherefore my heart clave to you; and now -knowing you for the son of my true friend, I feel for you the stronger -love. I will tell you now how matters stand with us. I will hide -nothing from you. I am old enough to have learned the last lesson of -experience--the folly of too much suspicion. I will not distrust the -son of Richard O'Connor. I need hardly tell you that those men whom you -saw below stairs are no friends of the ruling powers, but devoted -entirely to the service and the fortunes of the rightful heir of the -throne of England and of Ireland, met here together not without great -peril." - -"I had conjectured as much from what I myself witnessed," rejoined -O'Connor. - -"Well, then, I tell you this--the cause is not a hopeless one; the -exiled king has warm, zealous, and powerful friends where their -existence is least suspected," continued O'Hanlon. "In the Parliament -of England he has a strong and untiring party undetected--some of them, -too, must soon wield the enormous powers of government, and have -already gotten entire possession of the ear of the Queen; and so soon -as events invite, and the time is ripe for action, a mighty and a -sudden constitutional movement will be made in favour of the prince--a -movement entirely constitutional and in the Parliament. This will, -whether successful or not, raise the intolerant party here into fierce -resistance--the resistance of the firelock and the sword; all the -usurpers, the perjurers, and the plunderers who now possess the wealth -and dignities of this spoiled and oppressed country, will arise in -terror to defend their booty, and unless met and encountered, and -defeated by the party of the young king in this island, will embolden -the malignant rebels of the sister country to imitate their example, -and so overawe the Parliament, and frustrate their beneficent -intentions. To us, therefore, has fallen the humbler but important task -of organizing here, in the heart of this country, and in entire -secrecy, a power sufficient for the occasion. Fain would I have thee -along with us in so great and good a work, but will not urge you now; -think upon it, however--it is not so mad a scheme as you may have -thought, but such a one as looked on calmly, with the cold eye of -reason, seems practicable--ay, sure of success. Ponder the matter, -then; give me no answer now--I will take none--but think well upon it, -and after a week, and not sooner, when you have decided, tell me -whether you will be one of us or not. Meanwhile, I have other matters -to tell you of, in which perhaps your young heart will take a nearer -interest." - -He paused, and having replenished their glasses, and thrown a fresh -supply of wood upon the fire, he continued,-- - -"Are you acquainted with a family named Ashwoode?" - -"Yes," replied O'Connor, quickly, "I have known them long." - -O'Hanlon looked searchingly at the young man, and then continued,-- - -"Yes," said he, "I see it is even so--your face betrays it--you loved -the young lady, Mary Ashwoode--deny it not--I am your friend, and seek -not idly or without purpose thus to question you. What thought you of -Henry Ashwoode, now Sir Henry Ashwoode?" - -"He was latterly much--_entirely_ my friend," replied O'Connor. - -"He so professed himself?" asked O'Hanlon. - -"Ay," replied O'Connor, somewhat surprised at the tone in which the -question was put, "he did so profess himself, and repeatedly." - -"He is a villain--he has betrayed you," said the elder man, sternly. - -"How--what--a villain! Henry Ashwoode deceive me?" said O'Connor, -turning pale as death. - -"Yes--unless I've been strangely practised on--he has villainously -deceived alike you and his own sister--pretending friendship, he has -sowed distrust between you." - -"But have you evidence of what you say?" cried O'Connor. "Gracious -God--what have I done!" - -"I have evidence, and you shall hear and judge of it yourself," replied -O'Hanlon; "you cannot hear it to-night, however, nor I produce it--you -need some rest, and so in truth do I--make use of that poor bed--a -tired brain and weary body need no luxurious couch--I shall see you in -the morning betimes--till then farewell." - -The young man would fain have detained O'Hanlon, and spoken with him, -but in vain. - -"We have talked enough for this night," said the elder man--"I have it -not in my power now to satisfy you--I shall, however, in the morning--I -have taken measures for the purpose--good-night." - -So saying, O'Hanlon left the chamber, and closed the door upon his -young friend, now less than ever disposed to slumber. - -He threw himself upon the pallet, the victim of a thousand harassing -and exciting thoughts--sleep was effectually banished; and at length, -tired of the fruitless attitude of repose which he courted in vain, he -arose and resumed his seat by the hearth, in anxious and weary -expectation of the morning. - -At length the red light of the dawn broke over the smoky city, and with -a dusky glow the foggy sun emerged from the horizon of chimney-tops, -and threw his crimson mantle of ruddy light over the hoary thorn-wood -and the shattered mansion, beneath whose roof had passed the scenes we -have just described. Never did the sick wretch, who in sleepless -anguish has tossed and fretted through the tedious watches of the -night, welcome the return of day with more cordial greeting than did -O'Connor upon this dusky morn. The time which was to satisfy his doubts -could not now be far distant, and every sound which smote upon his ear -seemed to announce the approach of him who was to dispel them all. - -Weary, haggard, and nervous after the fatigues and agitation of the -previous day--unrefreshed by the slumbers he so much required, his -irritation and excitement were perhaps even greater than under other -circumstances they would have been. The torments of suspense were at -length, however, ended--he did hear steps approach the chamber--the -steps evidently of more than one person--the door opened, and O'Hanlon, -followed by Signor Parucci, entered the room. - -"I believe, young gentleman, you have seen this person before?" said -O'Hanlon, addressing O'Connor, while he glanced at the Italian. - -O'Connor assented. - -"Ah! yees," said the Neapolitan, with a winning smile; "he has see me -vary often. Signor O'Connor--he know me vary well. I am so happy to see -him again--vary--oh! vary." - -"Let Mr. O'Connor know briefly and distinctly what you have already -told me," said O'Hanlon. - -"About the letters?" asked the Italian. - -"Yes, be brief," replied O'Hanlon. - -"Ah! did he not guess?" rejoined the Neapolitan; "_per crilla!_ the -deception succeed, then--vary coning faylow was old Sir Richard--bote -not half so coning as his son, Sir Henry. He never suspect--Mr. -O'Connor never doubt, bote took all the letters and read them just so -as Sir Henry said he would. _Malora!_ what great meesfortune." - -"Parucci, speak plainly to the point; I cannot endure this. Say at once -what has he done--_how_ have I been deceived?" cried O'Connor. - -"You remember when the old gentleman--Mr. Audley, I think he is -call--saw Sir Richard--immediately after that some letters passed -between you and Mees Mary Ashwoode." - -"I do remember it--proceed," replied O'Connor. - -"Mees Mary's letters to you were cold and unkind, and make you think -she did not love you any more," added Parucci. - -"Well, well--say on--say on--for God's sake, man--say on," cried -O'Connor, vehemently. - -"Those letters you got were not written by her," continued the Italian, -coolly; "they were all wat you call _forged_--written by another -person, and planned by Sir Henry and Sir Reechard; and the same way on -the other side--the letters you wrote to her were all stopped, and read -by the same two gentlemen, and other letters written in stead, and she -is breaking her heart, because she thinks you 'av betrayed her, and -given her up--_rotta di collo!_ they 'av make nice work!" - -"Prove this to me, prove it," said O'Connor, wildly, while his eye -burned with the kindling fire of fury. - -"I weel prove it," rejoined Parucci, but with an agitated voice and a -troubled face; "bote, _corpo di Plato_, you weel keel me if I -tell--promise--swear--by your honour--you weel not horte me--you weel -not toche me--swear, Signor, and I weel tell." - -"Miserable caitiff--speak, and quickly--you are safe--I swear it," -rejoined he. - -"Well, then," resumed the Italian, with restored calmness, "I will -prove it so that you cannot doubt any more--it was I that wrote the -letters for them--I, myself--and beside, here is the bundle with all of -them written out for me to copy--most of them by Sir Henry--you know -his hand-writing--you weel see the character--_corbezzoli!_ he is a -great rogue--and you will find all the _real_ letters from you and Mees -Mary that were stopped--I have them here." - -He here disengaged from the deep pocket of his coat, a red leathern -case stamped with golden flowers, and opening it presented it to the -young man. - -With shifting colour and eyes almost blinded with agitation, O'Connor -read and re-read these documents. - -"Where is Ashwoode?" at length he cried; "bring me to him--gracious -God, what a monster I must have appeared--will she--_can_ she ever -forgive me?" - -Disregarding in entire contempt the mean agent of Ashwoode's villainy, -and thinking only of the high-born principal, O'Connor, pale as death, -but with perfect deliberateness, arose and took the sword which the -attendant who conducted him to the room had laid by the wall, and -replacing it at his side, said sternly,-- - -"Bring me to Sir Henry Ashwoode--where is he? I must speak with him." - -"I cannot breeng you to him now," replied Parucci, in internal -ecstasies, "for I cannot say where he is; bote I know vary well where -he weel be to-day after dinner time, in the evening, and I weel breeng -you; bote I hope very moche you are not intending any mischiefs; if I -thought so, I would be vary sorry--oh! vary." - -"Well, be it so, if it may not be sooner," said O'Connor, gloomily, -"this evening at all events he shall account with me." - -"Meanwhile," said O'Hanlon, "you may as well remain here; and when the -time arrives which this Italian fellow names, we can start. I will -accompany you, for in such cases the arm of a friend can do you no harm -and may secure you fair play. Hear me, you Italian scoundrel, remain -here until we are ready to depart with you, and that shall be whenever -you think it time to seek Sir Henry Ashwoode; you shall have enough to -eat and drink meanwhile; depart, and relieve us of your company." - -Signor Parucci smiled sweetly from ear to ear, shrugged, and bowed, and -then glided lightly from the room, exulting in the pleasant conviction -that he had commenced operations against his ungrateful patron, by -involving him in a scrape which must inevitably result in somewhat -unpleasant exposures, and which had beside reduced the question of Sir -Henry's life or death to an even chance. - - - - -CHAPTER XLVII. - -"THE JOLLY BOWLERS"--THE DOUBLE FRAY AND THE FLIGHT. - - -At the time of which we write, there lay at the southern extremity of -the city of Dublin, a bowling-green of fashionable resort, well known -as "Cullen's Green." For greater privacy it was enclosed by a brick -wall of considerable height, which again was surrounded by stately rows -of lofty and ancient elms. A few humble dwellings were clustered about -it; and through one of them, a low, tiled public-house, lay the -entrance into this place of pastime. Thitherward O'Connor and O'Hanlon, -having left their horses at the "Cock and Anchor," were led by the wily -Italian. - -"The players you say, will not stop till dusk," said O'Connor; "we can -go in, and I shall wait until the party have broken up, to speak to -Ashwoode; in the interval we can mix with the spectators, and so escape -remark." - -They were now approaching the little tavern embowered in tufted trees, -and as they advanced, they perceived a number of hack carriages and led -horses congregated upon the road about its entrance. - -"Sir Henry is within; that iron-grey is his horse; _sangue dun dua_, -there is no mistake," observed the Neapolitan. - -The little party entered the humble tavern, but here they were -encountered by a new difficulty. - -"You can't get in to-night, gentlemen--sorry to disappint, gentlemen; -but the green's engaged," said mine host, with an air of mysterious -importance; "a private party, engaged two days since for fear of a -disappint." - -"Are they so strictly private, that they would not suffer two gentlemen -to be spectators of their play?" inquired O'Hanlon. - -"My orders is not to let anyone in, good, bad, or indifferent, while -they are playing the match; that's _my_ orders," replied the man; -"sorry to disappint, but can't break my word with the gentlemen, you -know." - -"Is there any other entrance into the bowling-green?" inquired -O'Connor, "except through that door." - -"Divil a one, sir, where would it be?--divil a one, gentlemen," replied -mine host, "no other way in or out." - -"We will rest ourselves here for a time, then," said O'Connor. - -Accordingly the party seated themselves in the low-roofed chamber -through which the bowlers on quitting the ground must necessarily pass; -and calling for some liquor to prevent suspicion, moodily awaited the -appearance of the young baronet and his companions. Many a stern, -impatient glance of expectation did O'Connor direct to the old door -which alone separated him from the traitor and hypocrite who had with -such monstrous fraud practised upon his unsuspecting confidence. At -length he heard gay laughter and the tread of many feet approaching; -the proprietor of "The Jolly Bowlers" opened the door, and several -merry groups passed them by and took their departure, but O'Connor's -eye in vain sought among them the form of young Ashwoode. - -"I see the grey horse still at the door; I know it as well as I know my -own hand," said the Italian; "as sure as I am leeving man, Sir Henry is -there still." - -After an interval so considerable that O'Connor almost despaired of the -appearance of Ashwoode, voices were again audible, and steps -approaching the door-way at a slow pace; the time between the first -approach of those sounds, and the actual appearance of those who caused -them, appeared to the overwrought anxiety of O'Connor all but -interminable. At length, however, two figures entered from the -bowling-green--the one was that of a spare but dignified-looking man, -somewhat advanced in years, but carrying in his countenance a singular -expression of jollity and good humour--the other was that of Sir Henry -Ashwoode. - -"God be thanked," said O'Hanlon, grasping the hilt of his sword, "here -comes the perjured villain Wharton." - -O'Connor had another object, however, and beheld no one existing thing -but only the now hated form of his false friend; both he and O'Hanlon -started to their feet as the two figures entered the small and darksome -room. O'Connor threw himself directly in their path and said,-- - -"Sir Henry Ashwoode, a word with you." - -The appeal was startling and unexpected, and there was in the voice and -attitude of him who uttered it, something of deep, intense, constrained -passion and resolution, which made the two companions involuntarily and -suddenly check their advance. One moment sufficed for Sir Henry to -recognize O'Connor, and another convinced him that his quondam friend -had discovered his treachery, and was there to unmask, perhaps to -punish him. His presence of mind, however, seldom, if ever, forsook him -in such scenes as this--he instantly resolved upon the tone in which to -meet his injured antagonist. - -"Pray, sir," said he, with stern _hauteur_, "upon what ground do you -presume to throw yourself thus menacingly in my way? Move aside and let -me pass, or your rashness shall cost you dearly." - -"Ashwoode--Sir Henry--you well know there is one consideration which -would unstring my arm if lifted against your life--you presume upon the -forbearance which this respect commands," said O'Connor. "Promise but -this--that you will undeceive your sister, whom you have practised upon -as cruelly as you have on me, and I will call you to no further -account, and inflict no further humiliation." - -"Very good, sir, very magnanimous, and exceedingly tragic," rejoined -Ashwoode, scornfully. "Turn aside, sirrah, and leave my path open, or -by the ---- you shall rue it." - -"I will not leave the spot on which I stand but with my life, except on -the conditions I have named," replied O'Connor. - -"Once more, before I _strike_ you, leave the way," cried Ashwoode, -whose constitutional pugnacity began to be thoroughly aroused. "Turn -aside, sirrah! How dare you confront gentlemen--insolent beggar, how -dare you!" - -Yielding to the furious impulse of the moment, Sir Henry Ashwoode drew -his sword, and with the naked blade struck his antagonist twice with no -sparing hand. The passions which O'Connor had, with all his energy, -hitherto striven to master, would now brook restraint no longer; at -this last extremity of insult the blood sprang from his heart in fiery -currents and tingled through every vein; every feeling but the one -deadly sense of outraged pride, of repeated wrong, followed and -consummated by one degrading and intolerable outrage, vanished from his -mind. With the speed of light his sword was drawn and presented at -Ashwoode's breast. Each threw himself into the cautious attitude of -deadly vigilance, and quick as lightning the bright blades crossed and -clashed in the mortal rivalry of cunning fence. Each party was -possessed of consummate skill in the use of the fatal weapon which he -wielded, and several times in the course of the fierce debate, so -evenly were they matched, the two, as by voluntary accommodation, -paused in the conflict to take breath. - -With faces pale as death with rage, and a consciousness of the deadly -issue in which alone the struggle could end, and with eyes that glared -like those of savage beasts at bay, each eyed the other. Thus -alternately they paused and renewed the combat, and for long, with -doubtful fortune. In the position of the antagonists there was, -however, an inequality, and, as it turned out, a decisive one--the door -through which Ashwoode and his companion had entered, and to which his -back was turned, lay open, and the light which it admitted fell full in -O'Connor's eyes. This, as all who have handled the foil can tell, is a -disadvantage quite sufficient to determine even a less nicely balanced -contest than that of which we write. After several pauses in the -combat, and as many desperate renewals of it, Ashwoode, in one quick -lunge, passed his blade through his opponent's sword-arm. Though the -blood flowed plenteously, neither party seemed inclined to abate his -deadly efforts. O'Connor's arm began to grow stiff and weak, and the -energy and quickness of his action impaired; the consequences of this -were soon exhibited. Ashwoode lunged twice or thrice rapidly, and one -of these passes, being imperfectly parried, took effect in his -opponent's breast. O'Connor staggered backward, and his hand and eye -faltered for a moment; but he quickly recovered, and again advanced and -again with the same result. Faint, dizzy, and half blind, but with -resolution and rage, enhanced by defeat, he staggered forward again, -wild and powerless, and was received once more upon the point of his -adversary's sword. He reeled back, stood for a moment, his sword -dropped upon the ground, and he shook his empty hand in fruitless -menace at his triumphant antagonist, and then rolled headlong upon the -pavement, insensible, and weltering in gore--the combat was over. - -Ashwoode and O'Connor had hardly crossed their weapons when O'Hanlon -sprang forward and sternly accosted Lord Wharton, for it was no other, -who accompanied Ashwoode. - -"My lord, you need not interfere," said he, observing a movement on -Lord Wharton's part as if he would have separated the combatants. "This -is a question which all your diplomacy will not arrange--they will -fight it to the end. If you give them not fair play while I secure the -door, I will send my sword through your excellency's body." - -So saying, O'Hanlon drew his weapon, and keeping occasional watch upon -Wharton--who, however, did not exhibit any further disposition to -interfere--he strode to the outer door, which opened upon the public -road, and to prevent interruption from that quarter, drew the bar and -secured it effectually. - -"Now, my lord," said he, returning and resuming his position, "I have -secured this fortunate meeting against intrusion. What think you, while -our friends are thus engaged, were we, for warmth and exercise sake, -likewise to cross our blades? Will your lordship condescend to gratify -a simple gentleman so far?" - -"Out upon you, fellow; know you who I am?" said Wharton, with sturdy -good-humour. - -"I know thee well, Lord Wharton--a wily, selfish, double-dealing -politician; a profligate in morals; an infidel in religion; and a -traitor in politics. I know thee--who doth not?" - -"Landlord," said Wharton, turning toward that personage, who, with -amazement, irresolution, and terror in his face, inspected these -violent proceedings, "landlord, I say, call in a lackey or two; I'll -bring this ruffian to reason quickly. Have you gotten a pump in the -neighbourhood? Landlord, I say, bestir thyself, or, by ----, I'll spur -thee with my sword-point." - -"Stir not, if you would keep your life," said O'Hanlon, in a tone which -the half-stupefied host of "The Jolly Bowlers" dared not disobey. "If -you would not suffer death upon the spot where you stand, do not -attempt to move one step, nor to speak one word. My lord," he -continued, "I am right glad of this rencounter. I would have freely -given half what I possess in the world to have secured it. Believe me, -I will not leave it unimproved. My lord, in plain terms, for ten -thousand reasons I desire your death, and will not leave this place -till I have striven to effect it. Draw your sword, if you be a man; -draw your sword, unless cowardice has come to crown your vices." - -O'Hanlon drew his sword, and allowing Wharton hardly time sufficient to -throw himself into an attitude of defence, he attacked him with deadly -resolution. It was well for the viceroy that he was an expert -swordsman, otherwise his career would undoubtedly have been abruptly -terminated upon the floor of "The Jolly Bowlers." As it was, he -received a thrust right through the shoulder, and staggering back, -stumbled and fell upon the uneven pavement which studded the floor. -This occurred almost at the same moment with O'Connor's fall, and -believing that he had mortally hurt his noble antagonist, O'Hanlon, -without stopping to look about him hastily lifted his fallen and -senseless companion from the pavement and bore him in his arms through -the outer door, which the landlord had at length found resolution -enough to unbar. Fortunately a hackney coach stood there waiting for a -chance job from some of the aristocratic bowlers within, and in this -vehicle he hurriedly deposited his inanimate burden, and desiring the -coachman to drive for his life into the city, sprang into the -conveyance himself. Irishmen are proverbially ready at all times to aid -an escape from the fangs of justice, and without pausing to ask a -question, the coachman, to whom the sight of blood and of the naked -sword, which O'Hanlon still carried, was warrant sufficient, mounted -the box with incredible speed, pressed his hat firmly down upon his -brows, shook the reins, and lashed his horses till they smoked again; -and thus, at a gallop, O'Hanlon and his bleeding companion thundered -onward toward the city. Ashwoode did not interfere to stay the -fugitives, for he was not sorry to be relieved of the embarrassment -which he foresaw in having the body of his victim left, as it were, in -his charge. He therefore gladly witnessed its removal, and addressed -himself to Lord Wharton, who was rising with some difficulty from his -prostrate position. - -"Are you hurt, my lord?" inquired Ashwoode, kneeling by his side and -assisting him to rise. - -"Hush! nothing--a mere scratch. Above all things, make no row about it. -By ----, I would not for worlds that anything were heard of it. -Fortunately, this accident is a trivial one--the blood flows rather -fast, though. Let's get into a coach, if, indeed, the scoundrels have -not run away with the last of them." - -They found one, however, at the door, and getting in with all -convenient dispatch, desired the man to drive slowly toward the castle. - - - - -CHAPTER XLVIII. - -THE STAINED RUFFLES. - - -We must now return for a brief space to Morley Court. The apartment -which lay beneath what had been Sir Richard Ashwoode's bed-chamber, and -in which Mary and her gay cousin, Emily Copland, had been wont to sit -and work, and read and sing together, had grown to be considered, by -long-established usage, the rightful and exclusive property of the -ladies of the family, and had been surrendered up to their private -occupation and absolute control. Around it stood full many a quaint -cabinet of dark old wood, shining like polished jet, little bookcases, -and tall old screens, and music stands, and drawing tables. These, -along with a spinet and a guitar, and countless other quaint and pretty -sundries indicating the habitual presence of feminine refinement and -taste, abundantly furnished the chamber. In the window stood some -choice and fragrant flowers, and the light fell softly upon the carpet -through the clustering bowers of creeping plants which mantled the -outer wall, in sombre rivalry of the full damask curtains, whose -draperies hung around the deep receding casements. - -Here sat Mary Ashwoode, as the evening, whose tragic events we have in -our last chapter described, began to close over the old manor of Morley -Court. Her embroidery had been thrown aside, and lay upon the table, -and a book, which she had been reading, was open before her; but her -eyes now looked pensively through the window upon the fair, sad -landscape, clothed in the warm and melancholy tints of evening. Her -graceful arm leaned upon the table, and her small, white hand supported -her head and mingled in the waving tresses of her dark hair. - -"At what hour did my brother promise to return?" said she, addressing -herself to her maid, who was listlessly arranging some books in the -little book-case. - -"Well, I declare and purtest, I can't rightly remember," rejoined the -maid, cocking her head on one side reflectively, and tapping her -eyebrow to assist her recollection. "I don't think, my lady, he named -any hour precisely; but at any rate, you may be sure he'll not be long -away now." - -"I thought he said seven o'clock," continued Mary; "would he were come! -I feel very solitary to-day; and this evening we might pass happily -together, for that strange man will not return to-night--he said so--my -brother told me so." - -"I believe Mr. Blarden changed his mind, my lady," said the maid; "for -I know he gave orders before he went for a fire in his room to-night." - -Even as she spoke she heard Sir Henry's step upon the stairs, and her -brother entered the room. - -"Harry, Harry, I am so glad to see you," said she, running lightly to -him and throwing her arms around his neck. "Come, come, sit you down -beside me; we shall be happy together at least for this evening. Come, -Harry, come." - -So saying she led him, passive and gloomy, to the fireside, and drew a -chair beside that into which he had thrown himself. - -"Dear brother, the time seemed so very tedious to-day while you were -away," said she. "I thought it would never pass. Why are you so silent -and thoughtful, brother? has anything happened to vex you?" - -"Nothing," said he, glancing at her with a strange expression--"nothing -to vex me--no, nothing--perhaps the contrary." - -"Dear brother, have you heard good news? Come and tell me," said she; -"though I fear from the sadness of your face you do but flatter me. -Have you, Harry--have you heard or seen anything that gave you -comfort?" - -"No, not comfort; I know not what I say. Have you any wine here?" said -Ashwoode, hurriedly; "I am tired and thirsty." - -"No, not here," answered she, somewhat surprised at the oddity of the -question, as well as by the abruptness and abstraction of his manner. - -"Carey," said he, "run down--bring wine quickly; I'm exhausted--quite -wearied. I have played more at bowls this afternoon than I've done for -years," he added, addressing his sister as the maid departed on her -errand. - -"You do look very pale, brother," said she, "and your dress is all -disordered; and, gracious God!--see all the ruffles of this hand are -steeped in blood--brother, brother, for God's sake--are you hurt?" - -"Hurt--I--?" said he hastily, and endeavouring to smile! "no, indeed--I -hurt! far be it from me--this blood is none of mine; one of our party -scratched his hand, and I bound his handkerchief round the wound, and -in so doing contracted these tragic spots that startle you so. No, no, -believe me, when I am hurt I will make no secret of it. Carey, pour -some wine into that glass--fill it--fill it, child--there," and he -drank it off--"fill it again--so two or three more, and I shall be -quite myself again. How snug this room of yours is, Mary." - -"Yes, brother, I am very fond of it; it is a pleasant old room, and one -that has often seen me happier than I shall be again," said she, with a -sigh; "but do you feel better? has the wine refreshed you? You still -look pale," she added, with fears not yet half quieted. - -"Yes, Mary, I am refreshed," he said, with a sudden and reckless burst -of strange merriment that shocked her; "I could play the match through -again--I could leap, and laugh and sing;" and then he added quickly in -an altered voice--"has Blarden returned?" - -"No," said she; "I thought you said he would remain in town to-night." - -"I said wrong if I said so at all," replied Ashwoode; "and if he _did_ -intend to stay in town he has changed his plans--he will be here this -evening; I thought I should have found him here on my return; I expect -him every moment." - -"When, dear brother, is this visit of his to end?" asked the girl -imploringly. - -"Not for weeks--for months, I hope," replied Ashwoode drily and -quickly; "why do you inquire, pray?" - -"Simply because I wish it were ended, brother," answered she sadly; -"but if it vexes you I will ask no more." - -"It _does_ vex me, then," said Ashwoode, sternly; "it _does_, and you -know it"--he accompanied these words with a look even more savage than -the tone in which he had uttered them, and a silence of some minutes -followed. - -Ashwoode desired nothing so much as to speak with his sister -intelligibly upon the subject of Blarden's designs, and of his own -entire approval of them; but, somehow, often as he had resolved upon -it, he had never yet approached the topic, even in imagination, in his -sister's presence, without feeling himself unnerved and abashed. He now -strove to fret himself into a rage, in the instinctive hope that under -the influence of this stimulus he might find nerve to broach the -subject in plain terms; he strode quickly to and fro across the floor, -casting from time to time many an angry glance at the poor girl, and -seeking by every mechanical agency to work himself into a passion. - -"And so it is come to this at last," said he, vehemently, "that I may -not invite my friends to my own house; or that if I dare to do so, they -shall necessarily be exposed to the constant contempt and rudeness of -those who ought to be their entertainers; all their advances towards -acquaintance met with a hoity-toity, repulsive impertinence, and -themselves treated with a marked and insulting avoidance, shunned as -though they had the plague. I tell you now plainly, once for all, _I -will_ be master in my own house; you shall treat my guests with -attention and respect; you must do so; I command you; you shall find -that I am master here." - -"No doubt of it, by ----," ejaculated Nicholas Blarden, himself -entering the room at the termination of Ashwoode's stormy harangue; -"but where the devil is the good of roaring that way? your sister is -not deaf, I suppose? Mistress Mary, your most obedient----" - -Mary did not wait for further conference; but rising with a proud mien -and a burning cheek, she left the room and went quickly to her own -chamber, where she threw herself into a chair, covered her eyes with -her hands, and burst into an agony of weeping. - -"Well, but she _is_ a fine wench," cried Nicholas Blarden, as soon as -she had disappeared. "The tantarums become her better than good -humour;" so saying, he half filled Ashwoode's glass with wine, and -rinsed it into the fireplace; then coolly filled a bumper and quaffed -it off, and then another and another. - -"Sit down here and listen to me," said he to Ashwoode, in that -insolent, domineering tone which he so loved to employ in accosting -him, "sit down here, I say, young man, and listen to me while I give -you a bit of my mind." - -Ashwoode, who knew too well the consequences of even murmuring under -the tyranny of his task-master, in silence did as he was commanded. - -"I tell you what it is," said Blarden, "I don't like the way this -affair is going on; the girl avoids me; I don't know her, by ----, a -curse better to-day than I did the first day I came into the house; -this won't do, you know; it will never do; you had better strike out -some expeditious plan, or it's very possible I may tire of the whole -concern and cut it back, do you mind; you had better sharpen your wits, -my fine fellow." - -"The fault is your own," said Ashwoode gloomily; "if you desire -expedition, you can command it, by yourself speaking to her; you have -not as yet even hinted at your intentions, nor by any one act made her -acquainted with your designs; let her see that you like her; let her -understand you; you have never done so yet." - -"She's infernally proud," said Blarden, "just as proud as yourself: but -we know a knack, don't we, for bringing pride to its senses? Eh? -Nothing, I believe, Sir Henry, like _fear_ in such cases; don't you -think so? I've known it succeed sometimes to a miracle--fear of one -kind or another is the only way we have of working men or women. Mind I -tell you she must be frightened, and well frightened too, or she'll run -rusty. I have a knack with me--a kind of gift--of frightening people -when I have a fancy; and if you're in earnest, as I guess you pretty -well are, between us we'll tame her." - -"It were not advisable to proceed at once to extremities," said -Ashwoode, who, spite of his constitutional selfishness, felt some odd -sensations, and not of the pleasantest kind, while they thus conversed. -"You must begin by showing your wishes in your manner; be attentive to -her; and, in short, let her unequivocally see the nature of your -intentions; _tell_ her that you want to marry her; and when she -refuses, then it is time enough to commence those--those--other -operations at which you hint." - -"Well, d----n me, but there is some sense in what you say," observed -Blarden, filling his glass again. "Umph! perhaps I've been rather -backward; I believe I _have_; she's coy, shy, and a proud little -baggage withal--I like her the better for it--and requires a lot of -wooing before she's won; well, I'll make myself clear on to-morrow. I'm -blessed if she sha'n't understand me beyond the possibility of question -or doubt; and if she won't listen to reason, _then_ we'll see whether -there isn't a way to break her spirit if she was as proud as the -Queen." With these words Blarden arose and drained the flask of wine, -then observed authoritatively,-- - -"Get the cards and follow me to the parlour. I want something to amuse -me; be quick, d'ye hear?" - -And so saying he took his departure, followed by Sir Henry Ashwoode, -whose condition was now more thoroughly abject and degraded than that -of a purchased slave. - - - - -CHAPTER XLIX. - -OLD SONGS--THE UNWELCOME LISTENER--THE BARONET'S PLEDGE. - - -Next day Mary Ashwoode sat alone in the same room in which she had been -so unpleasantly intruded upon on the evening before. The unkindness of -her brother had caused her many a bitter tear during the past night, -and although still entirely in the dark as to Blarden's designs, there -was yet something in his manner during the brief moment of their -yesterday evening's rencontre which alarmed her, and suggested, in a -few hurried and fevered dreams which troubled her broken slumbers of -the night past, his dreaded image in a hundred wild and fantastic -adventures. - -She sat, as we have already said, alone in the self-same room, and as -mechanically she pursued her work, her thoughts were far away, and -wherever they turned still were they clouded with anxiety and sorrow. -Wearied at length with the monotony of an occupation which availed not -even momentarily to draw her attention from the griefs which weighed -upon her, she threw her work aside, and taking the guitar which in -gayer hours had often yielded its light music to her touch, and trying -to forget the consciousness of her changed and lonely existence in the -happier recollections which returned in these once familiar sounds, she -played and sang the simple melodies which had been her favourites long -ago; but while thus her hands strayed over the chords of the -instrument, and the low and silvery cadences of her sweet voice -recalled many a touching remembrance of the past, she was startled and -recalled at once from her momentary forgetfulness of the present by a -voice close behind her which exclaimed,-- - -"Capital--never a better--encore, encore;" and on looking hurriedly -round, her glance at once encountered and recognized the form and -features of Nicholas Blarden. "Go on, go on, do," said that gentleman -in his most engaging way, and with an amorous grin; "do--go on, can't -you--by ----, I'm half sorry I said a word." - -"I--I would rather not," stammered she, rising and colouring; "I have -played and sung enough--too much already." - -"No, no, not at all," continued Blarden, warming as he proceeded; "hang -me, no such thing, you were just going on strong when I came in--come, -come, I won't _let_ you stop." - -Her heart swelled with indignation at the coarse, familiar insolence of -his manner; but she made no other answer than that conveyed by laying -down the instrument, and turning from it and him. - -"Well, rot me, but this is too bad," continued he, playfully; "come, -take it up again--come, you _must_ tip us another stave, young -lady--do--curse me if I heard half your songs, you're a perfect -nightingale." - -So saying he took up the guitar, and followed her with it towards the -fireplace. - -"Come, you won't refuse, eh?--I'm in earnest," he continued; "upon my -soul and oath I want to hear more of it." - -"I have already told you, sir," said Mary Ashwoode, "that I do not wish -to play or sing any more at present. I am sure you are not aware, Mr. -Blarden, that this is my private apartment; no one visits me here -uninvited, and at present I wish to be alone." - -Thus speaking, she resumed her seat and her work, and sat in perfect -silence, her heaving breast and glowing cheeks alone betraying the -strength of her emotions. - -"Ho, ho! rot me, but she's sulky," cried Blarden, with a horse-laugh, -while he flung the guitar carelessly upon the table; "sure you wouldn't -turn me out--that would be very hard usage, and no mistake. Eh! Miss -Mary?" - -Mary continued to ply her silks in silence, and Blarden threw himself -into a chair opposite to her. - -"I like to rise you--hang me, if I don't," said Blarden, -exultingly--"you are always a snug-looking bit of goods, but when your -blood's up, you're a downright beauty--rot me, but you are--why the -devil don't you talk to me--eh?" he added, more roughly than he had yet -spoken. - -Mary Ashwoode began now to feel seriously alarmed at the man's manner, -and as her eyes encountered his gloating gaze, her colour came and went -in quick succession. - -"Confoundedly pretty, sure enough, and well you know it, too," -continued he--"curse me, but you _are_ a fine wench--and I'll tell you -what's more--I'm more than half in love with you at this minute, may -the devil have me but I am." - -Thus speaking, he drew his chair nearer hers. - -"Mr. Blarden--sir--I insist on your leaving me," said Mary, now -thoroughly frightened. - -"And _I_ insist on _not_ leaving you," replied Blarden, with an -insolent chuckle--"so it's a fair trial of strength between us, -eh?--ho, ho, what are you afraid of?--stick up to your fight--do -then--I like you all the better for your spirit--confound me but I do." - -He advanced his chair still nearer to that on which she was seated. - -"Well, but you _do_ look pretty, by Jove," he exclaimed. "I like _you_, -and I am determined to make you like _me_--I am--you _shall_ like me." - -He arose, and approached her with a half amorous, half menacing air. - -Pale as death, Mary Ashwoode arose also, and moved with hurried, -trembling steps towards the door. He made a movement as if to intercept -her exit, but checked the impulse, and contented himself with observing -with a scowl of spite and disappointment, as she passed from the -room,-- - -"Pride will have a fall, my fine lady--you'll be tame enough yet for -all your tantarums, by Jove." - -Breathless with haste and agitation, Mary reached the study, where she -knew her brother was now generally to be found. He was there engaged in -the miserable labour of looking through accounts and letters, in -arranging the complicated records of his own ruin. - -"Brother," said she, running to his side with the earnestness of deep -agitation, "brother, listen to me." - -He raised his eyes, and at a glance easily divined the cause of her -excitement. - -"Well," said he, "speak on--I hear." - -"Brother," she resumed, "that man--that Mr. Blarden, came uninvited -into my study; he was at first very coarse and free in his manner--very -disagreeable and impudent--he refused to leave me when I requested him -to do so, and every moment became more and more insolent--his manner -and language terrified me. Brother, dear brother, you must not expose -me to another such scene as that which has just passed." - -Ashwoode paused for a good while, with the pen still in his fingers, -and his eyes fixed abstractedly upon his sister's pale face. At length -he said,-- - -"Do you wish me to make this a quarrel with Blarden? Was there enough -to warrant a--a duel?" - -He well knew, however, that he was safe in putting the question, and in -anticipating her answer, he calculated rightly the strength of his -sister's affection for him. - -"Oh! no, no, brother--no!" she cried, with imploring terror; "dear -brother, you are everything to me now. No, no; promise that you will -not!" - -"Well, well, I do," said Ashwoode; "but how would you have me act?" - -"Do not ask this man to prolong his visit," replied she; "or if he -must, at least let me go elsewhere while he remains here." - -"You have but one female relative in Ireland with a house to receive -you," rejoined Ashwoode, "and that is Lady Stukely; and I have reason -to think she would not like to have you as a guest just now." - -"Dear Harry--dear brother, think of some place," said she, with earnest -entreaty. "I now feel secure nowhere; that rude man, the very sight of -whom affrights me, will not forbear to intrude upon my privacy; -alone--in my own little room--anywhere in this house--I am equally -liable to his intrusions and his rudeness. Dear brother, take pity on -me--think of some place." - -"Curse that beast Blarden!" muttered Sir Henry Ashwoode, between his -teeth. "Will nothing ever teach the ruffian one particle of tact or -common sense? What good end could he possibly propose to himself by -terrifying the girl?" - -Ashwoode bit his lips and frowned, while he thought the matter over. At -length he said,-- - -"I shall speak to Blarden immediately. I begin to think that the man is -not fit company for civilized people. I think we must get rid of him at -whatever temporary inconvenience, without actual rudeness. Without -anything approaching to a quarrel, I can shorten his visit. He shall -leave this either to-night or before seven o'clock to-morrow morning." - -"And you promise there shall be no quarrel--no violence?" urged she. - -"Yes, Mary, I do promise," rejoined Ashwoode. - -"Dear, dear brother, you have set my heart at rest," cried she. "Yes, -you _are_ my own dear brother--my protector!" And with all the warmth -and enthusiasm of unsuspecting love, she threw her arms around his neck -and kissed her betrayer. - -Mary had scarcely left the room in which Sir Henry Ashwoode was seated, -when he perceived Blarden sauntering among the trees by the window, -with his usual swagger; the young man put on his hat and walked quickly -forth to join him; as soon as he had come up with him, Blarden turned, -and anticipating him, said,-- - -"Well, I _have_ spoken out, and I think she understands me too; at any -rate, if she don't, it's no fault of mine." - -"I wish you had managed it better," said Ashwoode; "there is a way of -doing these things. You have frightened the foolish girl half out of -her wits." - -"Have I, though?" exclaimed Blarden, with a triumphant grin. "She's -just the girl we want--easily cowed. I'm glad to hear it. We'll manage -her--we'll bring her into training before a week--hang me, but we -will." - -"You began a little too soon, though," urged Ashwoode; "you ought to -have tried gentle means first." - -"Devil the morsel of good in them," rejoined Blarden. "I see well -enough how the wind sits--she don't like me; and I haven't time to -waste in wooing. Once we're buckled, she'll be fond enough of me; -matrimony 'll turn out smooth enough--I'll take devilish good care of -that; but the courtship will be the devil's tough business. We must -begin the taming system off-hand; there's no use in shilly shally." - -"I tell you," rejoined Ashwoode, "you have been too precipitate--I -speak, of course, merely in relation to the policy and expediency of -the thing. I don't mean to pretend that constraint may not become -necessary hereafter; but just now, and before our plans are well -considered, and our arrangements made, I think it was injudicious to -frighten her so. She was talking of leaving the house and going to Lady -Stukely's, or, in short, anywhere rather than remain here." - -"Threaten to run away, did she?" cried Blarden, with a whistle of -surprise which passed off into a chuckle. - -"Yes, in plain terms, she said so," rejoined Ashwoode. - -"Then just turn the key upon her at once," replied Blarden--"lock her -up--let her measure her rambles by the four walls of her room! Hang me, -if I can see the difficulty." - -Ashwoode remained silent, and they walked side by side for a time -without exchanging a word. - -"Well, I believe I'm right," cried Blarden, at length; "I think our -game is plain enough, eh? Don't let her budge an inch. Do you act -turnkey, and I'll pay her a visit once a day for fear she'd forget -me--I'll be her father confessor, eh?--ho, ho!--and between us I think -we'll manage to bring her to before long." - -"We must take care before we proceed to this extremity that all our -agents are trustworthy," said Ashwoode. "There is no immediate danger -of her attempting an escape, for I told her that you were leaving this -either to-night or to-morrow morning, and she's now just as sure as if -we had her under lock and key." - -"Well, what do you advise? Can't you speak out? What's all the delay to -lead to?" said Blarden. - -"Merely that we shall have time to adjust our schemes," replied -Ashwoode; "there is more to be done than perhaps you think of. We must -cut off all possibility of correspondence with friends out of doors, -and we must guard against suspicion among the servants; they are all -fond of her, and there is no knowing what mischief might be done even -by the most contemptible agents. Some little preparation before we -employ coercion is absolutely indispensable." - -"Well, then, you'd have me keep out of the way," said Blarden. "But -mind you, I won't leave this; I like to have my own eye upon my own -business." - -"There is no reason why you should leave it," rejoined Ashwoode. "The -weather is now cold and broken, so that Mary will seldom leave the -house; and when she remains in it, she is almost always in the little -drawing-room with her work, and books, and music; with the slightest -precaution you can effectually avoid her for a few days." - -"Well, then, agreed--done and done--a fair go on both sides," replied -Blarden, "but it must not be too long; knock out some scheme that will -wind matters up within a fortnight at furthest; be lively, or she shall -lead apes, and you swing as sure as there's six sides to a die." - - - - -CHAPTER L. - -THE PRESS IN THE WALL. - - -Larry Toole, having visited in vain all his master's usual haunts, -returned in the evening of that day on which we last beheld him, to the -"Cock and Anchor," in a state of extreme depression and desolateness. - -"By the holy man," said Larry, in reply to the inquiries of the groom, -who encountered him at the yard gate, "he's gone as clane as a whistle. -It's dacent thratement, so it is--gone, and laves me behind to rummage -the town for him, and divil a sign of him, good or bad. I'm fairly -burstin' with emotions. Why did he make off with himself? Why the devil -did he desart me? There's no apology for sich minewvers, nor no excuse -in the wide world, anless, indeed, he happened to be dhrounded or -dhrunk. I'm fairly dry with the frettin'. Come in with me, and we'll -have a sorrowful pot iv strong ale together by the kitchen fire; for, -bedad, I want something badly." - -Accordingly the two worthies entered the great old kitchen, and by the -genial blaze of its cheering hearth, they discussed at length the -probabilities of recovering Larry's lost master. - -"Usedn't he to take a run out now and again to Morley Court?" inquired -the groom; "you told me so." - -"By the hokey," exclaimed Larry, with sudden alacrity, "there is some -sinse in what you say--bedad, there is. I don't know how in the world I -didn't think iv going out there to-day. But no matter, I'll do it -to-morrow." - -And in accordance with this resolution, upon the next day, early in the -forenoon, Mr. Toole pursued his route toward the old manor-house. As he -approached the domain, however, he slackened his pace, and, with -extreme hesitation and caution, began to loiter toward the mansion, -screening his approach as much as possible among the thick brushwood -which skirted the rich old timber that clothed the slopes and hollows -of the manor in irregular and stately masses. Sheltered in his post of -observation, Larry lounged about until he beheld Sir Henry emerge from -the hall door and join Nicholas Blarden in the _tête-à-tête_ which we -have in our last chapter described. Our romantic friend no sooner -beheld this occurrence, than he felt all his uneasiness at once -dispelled. He marched rapidly to the hall door, which remained open, -and forthwith entered the house. He had hardly reached the interior of -the hall, when he was encountered by no less a person than the fair -object of his soul's idolatry, the beauteous Mistress Betsy Carey. - -"La, Mr. Laurence," cried she, with an affected start, "you're always -turning up like a ghost, when you're least expected." - -"By the powers of Moll Kelly!" rejoined Larry, with fervour, "it's more -and more beautiful, the Lord be merciful to us, you're growin' every -day you live. What the divil will you come to at last?" - -"Well, Mr. Toole," rejoined she, relaxing into a gracious smile, "but -you do talk more nonsense than any ten beside. I wonder at you, so I -do, Mr. Toole. Why don't you have a discreeterer way of conversation -and discourse?" - -"Och! murdher!--heigho! beautiful Betsy," sighed Larry, rapturously. - -"Did you walk, Mr. Toole?" inquired the maiden. - -"I did so," rejoined Larry. - -"Young master's just gone out," continued the maid. - -"So I seen, jewel," replied Mr. Toole. - -"An' you may as well come into the parlour, an' have some drink and -victuals," added she, with an encouraging smile. - -"Is there no fear of his coming in on me?" inquired Larry, cautiously. - -"Tilly vally, man, who are you afraid of?" exclaimed the handmaiden, -cheerily. "Come, Mr. Toole, you used not to be so easily frightened." - -"I'll never be afraid to folly your lead, most beautiful and -bewildhering iv famales," ejaculated Mr. Toole, gallantly. "So here -goes; folly on, and I'll attind you behind." - -Accordingly, they both entered the great parlour, where the table bore -abundant relics of a plenteous meal, and Mistress Betsy Carey, with her -own fair hands, placed a chair for him at the table, and heaping a -plate with cold beef and bread, laid it before her grateful swain, -along with a foaming tankard of humming ale. The maid was gracious, and -the beef delicious; his ears drank in her accents, and his throat her -ale, and his heart and mouth were equally full. Thus, in a condition as -nearly as human happiness can approach to unalloyed felicity, realizing -the substantial bliss of Mahomet's paradise, Mr. Toole ogled and ate, -and glanced and guzzled in soft rapture, until the force of nature -could no further go on, and laying down his knife and fork, he took one -long last draught of ale, measuring, it is supposed, about three -half-pints, and then, with an easy negligence, wiping the froth from -his mouth with the cuff of his coat, he addressed himself to the fair -dame once more,-- - -"They may say what they like, by the hokey! all the world over; but -divil bellows me, if ever I seen sich another beautiful, fascinating, -flusthrating famale, since I was the size iv that musthard pot--may the -divil bile me if I did," ejaculated Mr. Toole, rapturously throwing -himself into the chair with something between a sigh and a grunt, and -ready to burst with love and repletion. - -The fair maiden endeavoured to look contemptuous; but she smiled in -spite of herself. - -"Well, well, Mr. Toole," she exclaimed, "I see there is no use in -talking; a fool's a fool to the end of his days, and some people's past -cure. But tell me, how's Mr. O'Connor?" - -"Bedad, it's time for me to think iv it," exclaimed Larry, briskly. "Do -you know what brought me here?" - -"How should _I_ know?" responded she, with a careless toss of her head, -and a very conscious look. - -"Well," replied Mr. Toole, "I'll tell you at once. I lost the masther -as clane as a new shilling, an' I'm fairly braking my heart lookin' for -him; an' here I come, trying would I get the chance iv hearing some -soart iv a sketch iv him." - -"Is that all?" inquired the damsel, drily. - -"All!" ejaculated Larry; "begorra. I think it's enough, an' something -to spare. _All!_ why, I tell you the masther's lost, an' anless I get -some news of him here, it's twenty to one the two of us 'ill never meet -in this disappinting world again. _All!_ I think that something." - -"An' pray, what should _I_ know about Mr. O'Connor?" inquired the girl, -tartly. - -"Did you see him, or hear of him, or was he out here at all?" asked he. - -"No, he wasn't. What would bring him?" replied she. - -"Then he _is_ gone in airnest," exclaimed Larry, passionately; "he's -gone entirely! I half guessed it from the first minute. By jabers, my -bitther curse attind that bloody little public. He's lost, an' tin to -one he's _in glory_, for he was always unfortunate. Och! divil fly away -with the liquor." - -"Well, to be sure," ejaculated the lady's maid, with contemptuous -severity, "but it is surprising what fools some people is. Don't you -think your master can go anywhere for a day or two, but he must bring -_you_ along with him, or ask _your_ leave and licence to go where he -pleases forsooth? Marry, come up, it's enough to make a pig laugh only -to listen to you." - -Just at this moment, and when Larry was meditating his reply, steps -were heard in the hall, and voices in debate. They were those of -Nicholas Blarden and of Sir Henry Ashwoode. Larry instantly recognized -the latter, and his companion both of them. - -"They're coming this way," gasped Larry, with agonized alarm. "Tare an' -ouns, evangelical girl, we're done for. Put me somewhere quick, or -begorra it's all over with us." - -"What's to be done, merciful Moses? Where can you go?" ejaculated the -terrified girl, surveying the room with frantic haste. "The press. Oh! -thank God, the press. Come along, quick, quick, Mr. Toole, for gracious -goodness sake." - -So saying, she rushed headlong at a kind of cupboard or press, whose -doors opened in the panelling of the wall, and fumbling with frightful -agitation among her keys, she succeeded at length in unlocking it, and -throwing open its door, exhibited a small orifice of about four feet -and a half by three in the wall. - -"Now, Mr. Toole, into it, as you vally your precious life--quick, -quick, for the love of heaven," ejaculated the maiden. - -Larry was firmly persuaded that the feat was a downright physical -impossibility; yet with a devotion and desperation which love and -terror combined alone could inspire, he mounted a chair, and, supported -by all the muscular strength of his soul's idol, scrambled into the -aperture. A projecting shelf about half way up threw his figure so much -out of equilibrium, that the task of keeping him in his place was no -light one. By main strength, however, the girl succeeded in closing the -door and locking her visitor fairly in, and before her master entered -the chamber, Mr. Toole became a close prisoner, and the key which -confined him was safely deposited in the charming Betsy's pocket. - -Blarden roared lustily to the servants, and with sundry impressive -imprecations, commanded them to remove every vestige of the breakfast -of which the prisoner had just clandestinely partaken. Meanwhile he -continued to walk up and down the room, whistling a lively ditty, and -here and there, at particularly sprightly parts, drumming with his foot -in time upon the floor. - -"Well, that job's done at last," said he. "The room's clean and quiet, -and we can't do better than take a twist at the cards. So let's have a -pack, and play your best, d'ye mind." - -This was addressed to Ashwoode, who, of course, acquiesced. - -"Oh, bloody wars, I'm in for it," murmured Larry, "they'll be playin' -here to no end, and I smothering fast, as it is; I'll never come out iv -this pisition with my life." - -Few situations could indeed be conceived physically more uncomfortable. -A shelf projecting about midway pressed him forward, exerting anything -but a soothing influence upon the backbone, so that his whole weight -rested against the door of his narrow prison, and was chiefly sustained -by his breast-bone and chin. In this very constrained attitude, and -afraid to relieve his fatigue by moving even in the very slightest -degree, lest some accidental noise should excite suspicion and betray -his presence, the ill-starred squire remained; his discomforts still -further enhanced by the pouring of some pickles, which had been -overturned upon an upper shelf, in cool streams of vinegar down his -back. - -"I could not have betther luck," murmured he. "I never discoorsed a -famale yet, but I paid through the nose for it. Didn't I get enough iv -romance, bad luck to it, an' isn't it a plisint pisition I'm in at -last--locked up in an ould cupboard in the wall, an' fairly swimming in -vinegar. Oh, the women, the women. I'd rather than every stitch of -cloth on my back, I walked out clever an' clane to meet the young -masther, and not let myself be boxed up this way, almost dying with the -cramps and the snuffication. Oh, them women, them women!" - -Thus mourned our helpless friend in inarticulate murmurings. Meanwhile -young Ashwoode opened two or three drawers in search of a pack of -cards. - -"There are several, I know, in that locker," said Ashwoode. "I laid -some of them there myself." - -"This one?" inquired Blarden, making the interrogatory by a sharp -application of the head of his cane to the very panel against which -Larry's chin was resting. The shock, the pain, and the exaggerated -loudness of the application caused the inmate of the press, in spite of -himself, to ejaculate,-- - -"Oh, holy Pether!" - -"Did you hear anything queer?" inquired Blarden, with some -consternation. "Anyone calling out?" - -"No," said Ashwoode. - -"Well, see what the nerves is," cried Blarden, "by ----, I'd have bet -ten to one I heard a voice in the wall the minute I hit that locker -door--this ---- weather don't agree with me." - -This sentence he wound up by administering a second knock where he had -given the first; and Larry, with set teeth and a grin, which in a -horse-collar would have won whole pyramids of gingerbread, nevertheless -bore it this time with the silent stoicism of a tortured Indian. - -"The nerves is a ---- quare piece of business," observed Mr. Blarden--a -philosophical remark in which Larry heartily concurred--"but get the -cards, will you--what the ---- is all the delay about?" - -In obedience to Ashwoode's summons, Mistress Betsy Carey entered the -room. - -"Carey," said he, "open that press and take out two or three packs of -cards." - -"I can't open the locker," replied she, readily, "for the young -mistress put the key astray, sir--I'll run and look for it, if you -please, sir." - -"God bless you," murmured Larry, with fervent gratitude. - -"Hand me that bunch of keys from under your apron," said Blarden, "ten -to one we'll find some one among them that'll open it." - -"There's no use in trying, sir," replied the girl, very much alarmed, -"it's a pitiklar soart of a lock, and has a pitiklar key--you'll -ruinate it, sir, if you go for to think to open it with a key that -don't fit it, so you will--I'll run and look for it if you please, -sir." - -"Give me that bunch of keys, young woman; give them, I tell you," -exclaimed Blarden. - -Thus constrained, she reluctantly gave the keys, and among them the -identical one to whose kind offices Mr. O'Toole owed his present -dignified privacy. - -"Come in here, Chancey," said Mr. Blarden, addressing that gentleman, -who happened at that moment to be crossing the hall--"take these keys -here and try if any of them will pick that lock." - -Chancey accordingly took the keys, and mounting languidly upon a chair, -began his operations. - -It were not easy to describe Mr. Toole's emotions as these proceedings -were going forward--some of the keys would not go in at all--others -went in with great difficulty, and came out with as much--some entered -easily, but refused to turn, and during the whole of these various -attempts upon his "dungeon keep," his mental agonies grew momentarily -more and more intense, so much so that he was repeatedly prompted to -precipitate the _dénouement_, by shouting his confession from within. -His heart failed him, however, and his resolution grew momentarily -feebler and more feeble--he would have given worlds at that moment that -he could have shrunk into the pickle-pot, whose contents were then -streaming down his back--gladly would he have compounded for escape at -the price of being metamorphosed for ever into a gherkin. His prayers -were, however, unanswered, and he felt his inevitable fate momentarily -approaching. - -"This one will do it--I declare to God I have it at last," drawled -Chancey, looking lazily at a key which he held in his hand; and then -applying it, it found its way freely into the key-hole. - -"Bravo, Gordy, by ----," cried Blarden, "I never knew you fail -yet--you're as cute as a pet fox, you are." - -Mr. Blarden had hardly finished this flattering eulogium, when Chancey -turned the key in the lock: with astonishing violence the doors burst -open, and Larry Toole, Mr. Chancey, and the chair on which he was -mounted, descended with the force of a thunderbolt on the floor. In -sheer terror, Chancey clutched the interesting stranger by the throat, -and Larry, in self-defence, bit the lawyer's thumb, which had by a -trifling inaccuracy entered his mouth, and at the same time, with both -his hands, dragged his nose in a lateral direction until it had -attained an extraordinary length and breadth. In equal terror and -torment the two combatants rolled breathless along the floor; the -charming Betsy Carey screamed murder, robbery, and fire--while Ashwoode -and Blarden both started to their feet in the extremest amazement. - -"How the devil did you get into that press?" exclaimed Ashwoode, as -soon as the rival athletes had been separated and placed upon their -feet, addressing Larry Toole. - -"Oh! the robbing villain," ejaculated Mistress Betsy Carey--"don't -suffer nor allow him to speak--bring him to the pump, gentlemen--oh! -the lying villain--kick him out, Mr. Chancey--thump him, Sir -Henry--don't spare him, Mr. Blarden--turn him out, gentlemen all--he's -quite aperiently a robber--oh! blessed hour, but it's I that ought to -be thankful--what in the world wide would I do if he came powdering -down on me, the overbearing savage!" - -"Och! murder--the cruelty iv women!" ejaculated Larry, -reproachfully--"oh! murdher, beautiful Betsy." - -"Don't be talking to me, you sneaking, skulking villain," cried -Mistress Carey, vehemently, "you must have stole the key, so you must, -and locked yourself up, you frightful baste. For goodness gracious -sake, gentlemen, don't keep him talking here--he's dangerous--the -Turk." - -"Oh! the villainy iv women!" repeated Larry, with deep pathos. - -A brief cross-examination of Mistress Carey and of Larry Toole sufficed -to convict the fair maiden of her share in concealing the prisoner. - -"Now, Mr. Toole," said Ashwoode, addressing that personage, "you have -been once before turned out of this house for misconduct--I tell you, -that if you do not make good use of your time, and run as fast as your -best exertions will enable you, you shall have abundant reason to -repent it, for in five minutes more I will set the dogs after you; and -if ever I find you here again, I will have you ducked in the horse-pond -for a full hour--depart, sirrah--away--run." - -Larry did not require any more urgent remonstrances to induce him to -expedite his retreat--he made a contrite bow to Sir Henry--cast a look -of melancholy reproach at the beautiful Betsy, who, with a heightened -colour, was withdrawing from the scene, and then with sudden -nimbleness, effected his retreat. - -"The fellow," said Ashwoode, "is a servant of that O'Connor, whom I -mentioned to you. I do not think we shall ever have the pleasure of his -company again. I am glad the thing has happened, for it proves that we -cannot trust Carey." - -"That it does," echoed Blarden, with an oath. - -"Well, then, she shall take her departure hence before a week," -rejoined Ashwoode. "We shall see about her successor without loss of -time. So much for Mistress Carey." - - - - -CHAPTER LI. - -FLORA GUY. - - -"Why, I thought you had done for that fellow, that O'Connor," exclaimed -Blarden, after he had carefully closed the door. "I thought you had -pinked him through and through like a riddle--isn't he dead--didn't you -settle him?" - -"So I thought myself, but some troublesome people have the art of -living through what might have killed a hundred," rejoined Ashwoode; -"and I do not at all like this servant of his privately coming here, to -hold conference with my sister's maid--it looks suspicious; if it be, -however, as I suspect, I have effectually countermined them." - -"Well, then," replied Blarden, with an oath, "at all events we must set -to work now in earnest." - -"The first thing to be done is to find a substitute for the girl whom I -am about to dismiss," said Ashwoode, "we must select carefully, one -whom we can rely upon--do _you_ choose her?" - -"Why, I'm no great judge of such cattle," rejoined Blarden. "But here's -Chancey that understands them. I stake this ring to a sixpence he has -one in his eye this very minute that'll fit our purpose to a hair--what -do you say, Gordy, boy--can you hit on the kind of wench we want--eh, -you old sly boots?" - -Chancey sat sleepily before the fire, and a languid, lazy smile -expanded his sallow sensual face as he gazed at the bars of the grate. - -"Are you tongue-tied, or what?" exclaimed Blarden; "speak out--can you -find us such a one as we want? she must be a regular knowing devil, and -no mistake--as sly as yourself--a dead hand at a scheming game like -this--a deep one." - -"Well, maybe I do," drawled Chancey, "I think I know a girl that would -do, but maybe you'd think her too bad." - -"She can't be too bad for the work we want her for--what the devil do -you mean by BAD?" exclaimed Blarden. - -"Well," continued Chancey, disregarding the last interrogatory, "she's -Flora Guy, she attends in the 'Old Saint Columbkil,' a very arch little -girl--I think she'll do to a nicety." - -"Use your own judgment, I leave it all to you," said Blarden, "only get -one at once, do you mind, you know the sort we want." - -"I suppose she can't come any sooner than to-morrow, she must have -notice," said Chancey, "but I'll go in there to-day if you like, and -talk to her about it; I'll have her out with you here to-morrow to a -certainty, an' I declare to G---- she's a very smart little girl." - -"Do so," said Ashwoode, "and the sooner the better." - -Chancey arose, stuffed his hands into his breeches pockets according to -his wont, and with a long yawn lounged out of the room. - -"Do you keep out of the way after this evening," continued Sir Henry, -addressing himself to Blarden; "I will tell her that you are to leave -us this night, and that your visit ends; this will keep her quiet until -all is ready, and then she must be tractable." - -"Do you run and find her, then," said Blarden, "and tell her that I'm -off for town this evening--tell her at once--and mind, bring me word -what she says--off with you, doctor--ho, ho, ho!--mind, bring me word -what she says--do you hear?" - -With this pleasant charge ringing in his ears, Sir Henry Ashwoode -departed upon his honourable mission. - -Chancey strolled listlessly into town, and after an easy ramble, at -length found himself safe and sound once more beneath the roof of the -'Old Saint Columbkil.' He walked through the dingy deserted benches and -tables of the old tavern, and seating himself near the hearth, called a -greasy waiter who was dozing in a corner. - -"Tim, I'm rayther dry to-day, Timothy," said Mr. Chancey, addressing -the functionary, who shambled up to him more than half asleep; "what -will you recommend, Timothy--what do you think of a pot of light ale?" - -"Pint or quart?" inquired Tim shortly. - -"Well, we'll say a pint to begin with, Timothy," said Chancey, meekly; -"and do you see, Timothy, if Miss Flora Guy is on the tap; I wish she -would bring it to me herself--do you mind, Timothy?" - -Tim nodded and departed, and in a few minutes a brisk step was heard, -and a neat, good-humoured looking wench approached Mr. Chancey, and -planted a pint pot of ale before him. - -"Well, my little girl," said Chancey, with the quiet dignity of a -patron, "would you like to get a fine situation in a baronet's family, -my dear; to be own maid to a baronet's sister, where they eat off of -silver every day in the week, and have more money than you or I could -count in a twelve-month?" - -"Where's the good of liking it, Mr. Chancey?" replied the girl, -laughing; "it's time enough to be thinking of it when I get the offer." - -"Well, you _have_ the offer this minute, my little girl," rejoined -Chancey; "I have an elegant place for you--upon my conscience I -have--up at Morley Court, with Sir Henry Ashwoode; he's a baronet, -dear, and you're to be own maid to Miss Mary Ashwoode." - -"It can't be the truth you're telling me," said the girl, in unfeigned -amazement. - -"I declare to G--d, and upon my soul, it is the plain truth," drawled -Chancey; "Sir Henry Ashwoode, the baronet, asked me to recommend a -tidy, sprightly little girl, to be own maid to his elegant, fine -sister, and I recommended you--I declare to G--d but I did, and I come -in to-day from the baronet's house to hire you, so I did." - -"Well, an' is it in airnest you are?" said the girl. - -"What I'm telling you is the rale truth," rejoined Chancey: "I declare -to G--d upon my soul and conscience, and I wouldn't swear that in a -lie, if you like to take the place you can get it." - -"Well, well, after _that_--why, my fortune's made," cried the girl, in -ecstasies. - -"It is _so_, indeed, my little girl," rejoined Chancey; "your fortune's -made, sure enough." - -"An' my dream's out, too; for I was dreaming of nothing but washing, -and that's a sure sign of a change, all the live-long night," cried -she, "washing linen, and such lots of it, all heaped up; well, I'm a -sharp dreamer--ain't I, though?" - -"You will take it, then?" inquired Chancey. - -"_Will_ I--maybe I won't," rejoined she. - -"Well, come out to-morrow," said Chancey. - -"I can't to-morrow," replied she; "for all the table-cloth is to be -done, an' I would not like to disappoint the master after being with -him so long." - -"Well, can you next day?" - -"I can," replied she; "tell me where it is." - -"Do you know Tony Bligh's public--the old 'Bleeding Horse?'" inquired -he. - -"I do--right well," she rejoined with alacrity. - -"They'll direct you there," said Chancey; "ask for the manor of Morley -Court; it's a great old brick house, you can see it a mile away, and -whole acres of wood round it--it's a wonderful fine place, so it is; -remember it's Sir Henry himself you're to see when you go there; an' do -you mind what I'm saying to you, if I hear that you were talking and -prating about the place here to the chaps that's idling about, or to -old Pottles, or the sluts of maids, or, in short, to anyone at all, -good or bad, you'll be sure to lose the situation; so mind my advice, -like a good little girl, and don't be talking to any of them about -where you're going; for it wouldn't look respectable for a baronet to -be hiring his servants out of a tavern--do you mind me, dear." - -"Oh, never fear me, Mr. Chancey," she rejoined; "I'll not say a word to -a living soul; but I hope there's no fear the place will be taken -before me, by not going to-morrow." - -"Oh! dear me! no fear at all, I'll keep it open for you; now be a good -girl, and remember, don't disappoint." - -So saying he drained his pot of ale to the last drop, and took his -departure in the pleasing conviction that he had secured the services -of a fitting instrument to carry out the infernal schemes of his -employers. - - - - -CHAPTER LII. - -OF MARY ASHWOODE'S WALK TO THE LONESOME WELL--AND OF WHAT SHE SAW -THERE--AND SHOWING HOW SCHEMES OF PERIL BEGAN TO CLOSE AROUND HER. - - -On the following evening, Mary Ashwoode, in the happy conviction that -Nicholas Blarden was far away, and for ever removed from her -neighbourhood, walked forth at the fall of the evening unattended, to -ramble among the sequestered, but now almost leafless woods, which -richly ornamented the old place. Through sloping woodlands, among the -stately trees and wild straggling brushwood, now densely crowded -together, and again opening in broad vistas and showing the level -sward, and then again enclosing her amid the gnarled and hoary trunks -and fantastic boughs, all touched with the mellow golden hue of the -rich lingering light of evening, she wandered on, now treading the -smooth sod among the branching roots, now stepping from mossy stone to -stone across the wayward brook--now pausing on a gentle eminence to -admire the glowing sky and the thin haze of evening, mellowing all the -distant shadowy outlines of the landscape; and by all she saw at every -step beguiled into forgetfulness of the distance to which she had -wandered. - -She now approached what had been once a favourite spot with her. In a -gentle slope, and almost enclosed by wooded banks, was a small clear -well, an ancient lichen-covered arch enclosed it; and all around in -untended wildness grew the rugged thorn and dwarf oak, crowding around -it with a friendly pressure, and embowering its dark clear waters with -their ivy-clothed limbs; close by it stood a tall and graceful ash, and -among its roots was placed a little rustic bench where, in happier -times, Mary had often sat and read through the pleasant summer hours; -and now, alas! there was the little seat and there the gnarled roots -and the hoary stems of the wild trees, and the graceful ivy clusters, -and the time-worn mossy arch that vaulted the clear waters bubbling so -joyously beneath; how could she look on these old familiar friends, and -not feel what all who with changed hearts and altered fortunes revisit -the scenes of happier times are doomed to feel? - -For a moment she paused and stood lost in vain and bitter regrets by -the old well-side. Her reverie was, however, soon and suddenly -interrupted by the sound of something moving among the brittle -brushwood close by; she looked quickly in the direction of the noise, -and though the light had now almost entirely failed, she yet -discovered, too clearly to be mistaken, the head and shoulders of -Nicholas Blarden, as he pushed his way among the bushes toward the very -spot where she stood. With an involuntary cry of terror she turned, and -running at her utmost speed, retraced her steps toward the old mansion; -not daring even to look behind her, she pursued her way among the -deepening shadows of the old trees with the swiftness of terror; and, -as she ran, her fears were momentarily enhanced by the sound of heavy -foot-falls in pursuit, accompanied by the loud short breathing of one -exerting his utmost speed. On--on she flew with dizzy haste; the -distance seemed interminable, and her exhaustion was such that she felt -momentarily tempted to forego the hopeless effort, and surrender -herself to the mercy of her pursuer. At length she approached the old -house--the sounds behind her abated; she thought she heard hoarse -volleys of muttered imprecations, but not hazarding even a look behind, -she still held on her way, and at length, almost wild with fear, -entered the hall and threw herself sobbing into her brother's arms. - -"Oh God! brother; he's here; am I safe?" and she burst into hysterical -sobs. - -As soon as she was a little calmed, he asked her,-- - -"What has alarmed you, Mary; what have you seen to agitate you so?" - -"Oh! brother; have you deceived me; _is_ that fearful man still an -inmate of the house?" she said. - -"No; I tell you no," replied Ashwoode, "he's gone; his visit ended with -yesterday evening; he's fifty miles away by this time; tut--tut--folly, -child; you must not be so fanciful." - -"Well, brother, _he_ has deceived _you_," she rejoined, with the -earnestness of terror; "he is _not_ gone; he is about this place; so -surely as you stand there, I saw him; and, O God! he pursued me, and -had my strength faltered for a moment, or my foot slipped, I should -have been in his power;" she leaned down her head and clasped her hands -across her eyes, as if to exclude some image of horror. - -"This is mere raving, child," said Ashwoode, "the veriest folly; I tell -you the man is gone; you heard, if anything at all, a dog or a hare -springing through the leaves, and your imagination supplied the rest. I -tell you, once for all, that Blarden is threescore good miles away." - -"Brother, as surely as I see you, I saw him this night," she replied. -"I could not be mistaken; I saw him, and for several seconds before I -could move, such was the palsy of terror that struck me. I saw him, and -watched him advancing towards me--gracious heaven! for while I could -reckon ten; and then, as I fled, he still pursued; he was so near that -I actually heard his panting, as well as the tread of his -feet;--brother--brother--there was no mistake; there _could_ be none in -this." - -"Well, be it so, since you will have it," replied Ashwoode, trying to -laugh it off; "you have seen his _fetch_--I think they call it so. I'll -not dispute the matter with you; but this I will aver, that his -corporeal presence is removed some fifty miles from hence at this -moment; take some tea and get you to bed, child; you have got a fit of -the vapours; you'll laugh at your own foolish fancies to-morrow -morning." - - -That night Sir Henry Ashwoode, Nicholas Blarden, and their worthy -confederate, Gordon Chancey, were closeted together in earnest and -secret consultation in the parlour. - -"Why did you act so rashly--what could have possessed you to follow the -girl?" asked Ashwoode, "you have managed one way or another so -thoroughly to frighten the girl, to make her so fear and avoid you, -that I entirely despair, by fair means, of ever inducing her to listen -to your proposals." - -"Well, that does not take me altogether by surprise," said Blarden, -"for I have been suspecting so much this many a day; we must then go to -work in right earnest at once." - -"What measures shall we take?" said Ashwoode. - -"What measures!" echoed Blarden; "well, confound me if I know what to -begin with, there's such a lot of them, and all good--what do you say, -Gordy?" - -"You ought to ask her to marry you off-hand," said Chancey, demurely, -but promptly; "and if she refuses, let her be locked up, and treat her -as if she was _mad_--do you mind; and I'll go to Patrick's-close, and -bring out old Shycock, the clergyman; and the minute she strikes, you -can be coupled; she'll give in very soon, you'll find; little Ebenezer -will do whatever we bid him, and swear whatever we like; we'll all -swear that you and she are man and wife already; and when she denies -it, threaten her with the mad-house; and then we'll see if she won't -come round; and you must first send away the old servants--every -mother's skin of them--and get _new_ ones instead; and that's my -advice." - -"It's not bad, either," said Blarden, knitting his brows twice or -thrice, and setting his teeth. "I like that notion of threatening her -with Bedlam; it's a devilish good idea; and I'll give long odds it will -work wonders; what do you say, Ashwoode?" - -"Choose your own measures," replied the baronet. "I'm incapable of -advising you." - -"Well, then, Gordy, that's the go," said Blarden; "bring out his -reverence whenever I tip you the signal; and he shall have board and -lodging until the job's done; he'll make a tip-top domestic chaplain; I -suppose we'll have family prayers while he stays--eh?--ho, -ho!--devilish good idea, that; and Chancey'll act clerk--eh? won't you, -Gordy?" and, tickled beyond measure at the facetious suggestion, Mr. -Blarden laughed long and lustily. - -"I suppose I may as well keep close until our private chaplain arrives, -and the new waiting-maid," said Blarden; "and as soon as all is ready, -I'll blaze out in style, and I'll tell you what, Ashwoode, a precious -good thought strikes me; turn about you know is fair play; and as I'm -fifty miles away to-day, it occurs to me it would be a deuced good plan -to have _you_ fifty miles away to-morrow--eh?--we could manage matters -better if you were supposed out of the way, and that she knew I had the -whole command of the house, and everything in it; she'd be a cursed -deal more frightened; what do you think?" - -"Yes, I entirely agree with you," said Ashwoode, eagerly catching at a -scheme which would relieve him of all prominent participation in the -infamous proceedings--an exemption which, spite of his utter -selfishness, he gladly snatched at. "I will do so. I will leave the -house in reality." - -"No--no; my tight chap, not so fast," rejoined Blarden, with a savage -chuckle. "I'd rather have my eye on you, if you please; just write her -a letter, dated from Dublin, and say you're obliged to go anywhere you -please for a month or so; she'll not find you out, for we'll not let -her out of her room; and now I think everything is settled to a turn, -and we may as well get under the blankets at once, and be stirring -betimes in the morning." - - - - -CHAPTER LIII. - -THE DOUBLE FAREWELL. - - -Next day Mistress Betsy Carey bustled into her young mistress's chamber -looking very red and excited. - -"Well, ma'am," said she, dropping a short indignant courtesy, "I'm come -to bid you good-bye, ma'am." - -"How--what can you mean, Carey?" said Mary Ashwoode. - -"I hope them as comes after me," continued the handmaiden, vehemently, -"will strive to please you in all pints and manners as well as them -that's going." - -"Going!" echoed Mary; "why, this can't be--there must be some great -mistake here." - -"No mistake at all, ma'am, of any sort or description; the master has -just paid up my wages, and gave me my discharge," rejoined the maid. -"Oh, the ingratitude of some people to their servants is past bearing, -so it is." - -And so saying, Mistress Carey burst into a passion of tears. - -"There _is_ some mistake in all this, my poor Carey," said the young -lady; "I will speak to my brother about it immediately; don't cry so." - -"Oh! my lady, it ain't for myself I'm crying; the blessed saints in -heaven knows it ain't," cried the beautiful Betsy, glancing -devotionally upward through her tears; "not at all and by no means, -ma'am, it's all for other people, so it is, my lady; oh! ma'am, you -don't know the badness and the villainy of people, my lady." - -"Don't cry so, Carey," replied Mary Ashwoode, "but tell me frankly what -fault you have committed--let me know why my brother has discharged -you." - -"Just because he thinks I'm too fond of you, my lady, and too honest -for what's going on," cried she, drying her eyes in her apron with -angry vehemence, and speaking with extraordinary sharpness and -volubility; "because I saw Mr. O'Connor's man yesterday--and found out -that the young gentleman's letters used to be stopped by the old -master, God rest him, and Sir Henry, and all kinds of false letters -written to him and to you by themselves, to breed mischief between you. -I never knew the reason before, why in the world it was the master used -to make me leave every letter that went between you, for a day or more -in his keeping. Heaven be his bed; I was too innocent for them, my -lady; we were both of us too simple; oh dear! oh dear! it's a quare -world, my lady. And that wasn't all--but who do you think I meets -to-day skulking about the house in company with the young master, but -Mr. Blarden, that we all thought, glory be to God, was I don't know how -far off out of the place; and so, my lady, because them things has come -to my knowledge, and because they knowed in their hearts, so they did, -that I'd rayther be crucified than hide as much as the black of my nail -from you, my lady, they put me away, thinking to keep you in the dark. -Oh! but it's a dangerous, bad world, so it is--to put me out of the way -of tellin' you whatever I knowed; and all I'm hoping for is, that them -that's coming in my room won't help the mischief, and try to blind you -to what's going on;" hereupon she again burst into a flood of tears. - -"Good God," said Mary Ashwoode, in the low tones of horror, and with a -face as pale as marble, "_is_ that dreadful man here--have you seen -him?" - -"Yes, my lady, seen and talked with him, my lady, not ten minutes -since," replied the maid, "and he gave me a guinea, and told me not to -let on that I seen him--he did--but he little knew who he was speaking -to--oh! ma'am, but it's a terrible shocking bad world, so it is." - -Mary Ashwoode leaned her head upon her hand in fearful agitation. This -ruffian, who had menaced and insulted and pursued her, a single glance -at whose guilty and frightful aspect was enough to warn and terrify, -was in league and close alliance with her own brother to entrap and -deceive her--Heaven only could know with what horrible intent. - -"Carey, Carey," said the pale and affrighted lady, "for God's sake send -my brother--bring him here--I must see Sir Henry, your master--quickly, -Carey--for God's sake quickly." - -The young lady again leaned her head upon her hand and became silent; -so the lady's maid dried her eyes, and left the room to execute her -mission. - -The apartment in which Mary Ashwoode was now seated, was a small -dressing-room or boudoir, which communicated with her bed-chamber, and -itself opened upon a large wainscotted lobby, surrounded with doors, -and hung with portraits, too dingy and faded to have a place in the -lower rooms. She had thus an opportunity of hearing any step which -ascended the stairs, and waited, in breathless expectation, for the -sounds of her brother's approach. As the interval was prolonged her -impatience increased, and again and again she was tempted to go down -stairs and seek him herself; but the dread of encountering Blarden, and -the terror in which she held him, kept her trembling in her room. At -length she heard two persons approach, and her heart swelled almost to -bursting, as, with excited anticipation, she listened to their advance. - -"Here's the room for you at last," said the voice of an old female -servant, who forthwith turned and departed. - -"I thank you kindly, ma'am," said the second voice, also that of a -female, and the sentence was immediately followed by a low, timid knock -at the chamber door. - -"Come in," said Mary Ashwoode, relieved by the consciousness that her -first fears had been delusive--and a good-looking wench, with rosy -cheeks, and a clear, good-humoured eye, timidly and hesitatingly -entered the room, and dropped a bashful courtesy. - -"Who are you, my good girl, and what do you want with me?" inquired -Mary, gently. - -"I'm the new maid, please your ladyship, that Sir Henry Ashwoode hired, -if it pleases you, ma'am, instead of the young woman that's just gone -away," replied she, her eyes staring wider and wider, and her cheeks -flushing redder and redder every moment, while she made another -courtesy more energetic than the first. - -"And what is your name, my good girl?" inquired Mary. - -"Flora Guy, may it please your ladyship," replied the newcomer, with -another courtesy. - -"Well, Flora," said her new mistress, "have you ever been in service -before?" - -"No, ma'am, if you please," replied she, "unless in the old Saint -Columbkil." - -"The old Saint Columbkil," rejoined Mary. "What is that, my good girl?" - -The ignorance implied in this question was so incredibly absurd, that -spite of all her fears and all her modesty, the girl smiled, and looked -down upon the floor, and then coloured to the eyes at her own -presumption. - -"It's the great wine-tavern and eating-house, ma'am, in Ship Street, if -you please," rejoined she. - -"And who hired you?" inquired Mary, in undisguised surprise. - -"It was Mr. Chancey, ma'am--the lawyer gentleman, please your -ladyship," answered she. - -"Mr. Chancey!--I never heard of him before," said the young lady, more -and more astonished. "Have you seen Sir Henry--my brother?" - -"Oh! yes, my lady, if you please--I saw him and the other gentleman -just before I came upstairs, ma'am," replied the maid. - -"What other gentleman?" inquired Mary, faintly. - -"I think Sir Henry was the young gentleman in the frock suit of -sky-blue and silver, ma'am--a nice young gentleman, ma'am--and there -was another gentleman, my lady, with him; he had a plum-coloured suit -with gold lace; he spoke very loud, and cursed a great deal; a large -gentleman, my lady, with a very red face, and one of his teeth out. I -seen him once in the tap-room. I remembered him the minute I set eyes -on him, but I can't think of his name. He came in, my lady, with that -young lord--I forget _his_ name, too--that was ruined with play and -dicing, my lady; and they had a quart of mulled sack--it was I that -brought it to them--and I remembered the red-faced gentleman very well, -for he was turning round over his shoulder, and putting out his tongue, -making fun of the young lord--because he was tipsy--and winking to his -own friends." - -"What did my brother--Sir Henry--your master--what did he say to you -just now?" inquired Mary, faintly, and scarcely conscious what she -said. - -"He gave me a bit of a note to your ladyship," said the girl, fumbling -in the profundity of her pocket for it, "just as soon as he put the -other girl--her that's gone, my lady--into the chaise--here it is, -ma'am, if you please." - -Mary took the letter, opened it hurriedly, and with eyes unsteady with -agitation, read as follows:-- - - "MY DEAR MARY,--I am compelled to fly as fast as horseflesh can - carry me, to escape arrest and the entire loss of whatever little - chance remains of averting ruin. I don't see you before leaving - this--my doing so were alike painful to us both--perhaps I shall be - here again by the end of a month--at all events, you shall hear of - me some time before I arrive. I have had to discharge Carey for - very ill-conduct I have not time to write fully now. I have hired - in her stead the bearer, Flora Guy, a very respectable, good girl. - I shall have made at least two miles away in my flight before you - read this. Perhaps you had better keep within your own room, for - Mr. Blarden will shortly be here to look after matters in my - absence. I have hardly a moment to scratch this line. - - "Always your attached brother, - - "HENRY ASHWOODE." - -Her eye had hardly glanced through this production when she ran wildly -toward the door; but, checking herself before she reached it, she -turned to the girl, and with an earnestness of agony which thrilled to -her very heart, she cried,-- - -"Is he gone? tell me, as you hope for mercy, is he--_is_ he gone?" - -"Who, who is it, my lady?" inquired the girl, a good deal startled. - -"My brother--my brother: is he gone?" cried she more wildly still. - -"I seen him riding away very fast on a grey horse, my lady," said the -maid, "not five minutes before I came up stairs." - -"Then it's too late. God be merciful to me! I am lost, I have none to -guard me; I have none to help me--don't--don't leave me; for God's sake -don't leave the room for one instant----" - -There was an imploring earnestness of entreaty in the young lady's -accents and manner, and a degree of excited terror in her dilated eyes -and pale face, which absolutely affrighted the attendant. - -"No, my lady," said she, "I won't leave you, I won't indeed, my lady." - -"Oh! my poor girl," said Mary, "you little know the griefs and fears of -her you've come to serve. I fear me you have changed your lot, however -hard before, much for the worst in coming here; never yet did creature -need a friend so much as I; and never was one so friendless before," -and thus speaking, poor Mary Ashwoode leaned forward and wept so -bitterly that the girl was almost constrained to weep too for very -pity. - -"Don't take it to heart so much, my lady; don't cry. I'll do my best, -my lady, to serve you well; indeed I will, my lady, and true and -faithful," said the poor damsel, approaching timidly but kindly to her -young mistress's side. "I'll not leave you, my lady; no one shall harm -you nor hurt a hair of your head; I'll stay with you night and day as -long as you're pleased to keep me, my lady, and don't cry; sure you -won't, my lady?" - -So the poor girl in her own simple way strove to comfort and encourage -her desolate mistress. - -It is a wonderful and a beautiful thing how surely, spite of every -difference of rank and kind and forms of language, the words of -kindness and of sympathy--be they the rudest ever spoken, if only they -flow warm from the heart of a fellow-mortal--will gladden, comfort, and -cheer the sorrow-stricken spirit. Mary felt comforted and assured. - -"Do you be but true to me; stay by my side in this season of my sorest -trouble; and may God reward you as richly as I would my poor means -could," said Mary, with the same intense earnestness of entreaty. -"There is kindness and truth in your face. I am sure you will not -deceive me." - -"Deceive you, my lady! God forbid," said the poor maid, earnestly; "I'd -die before I'd deceive you; only tell me how to serve you, my lady, and -it will be a hard thing that I won't do for you." - -"There is no need to conceal from you what, if you do not already know, -you soon must," said Mary, speaking in a low tone, as if fearful of -being overheard; "that red-faced man you spoke of, that talked so loud -and swore so much, that man I fear--fear him more than ever yet I -dreaded any living thing--more than I thought I _could_ fear anything -earthly--him, this Mr. Blarden, we must avoid." - -"Blarden--Mr. Blarden," said the maid, while a new light dawned upon -her mind. "I could not think of his name--Nicholas Blarden--Tommy, that -is one of the waiters in the 'Columbkil,' my lady, used to call him -'red ruin.' I know it all now, my lady; it's he that owns the great -gaming house near High Street, my lady; and another in Smock Alley; I -heard Mr. Pottles say he could buy and sell half Dublin, he's mighty -rich, but everyone says he's a very bad man: I couldn't think of his -name, and I remember everything about him now; it's all found out. Oh! -dear--dear; then it's all a lie; just what I thought, every bit from -beginning to end--nothing else but a lie. Oh, the villain!" - -"What lie do you speak of?" asked Mary; "tell me." - -"Oh, the villain!" repeated the girl. "I wish to God, my lady, you were -safe out of this house----" - -"What is it?" urged Mary, with fearful eagerness; "what lie did you -speak of? what makes you now think my danger greater?" - -"Oh! my lady, the lies, the horrible lies he told me to-day, when Sir -Henry and himself were hiring me," replied she. "Oh! my lady, I'm sure -you are not safe here----" - -"For God's sake tell me plainly, what did they say?" repeated Mary. - -"Oh, ma'am, what do you think he told me? As sure as you're sitting -there, he told me he was a mad-doctor," replied she; "and he said, my -lady, how that you were not in your right mind, and that he had the -care of you; and, oh, my God, my lady, he told me never to be -frightened if I heard you crying out and screaming when he was alone -with you, for that all mad people was the same way----" - -"And was Sir Henry present when he told you this?" said Mary, scarce -articulately. - -"He was, my lady," replied she, "and I thought he turned pale when the -red-faced man said that; but he did not speak, only kept biting his -lips and saying nothing." - -"Then, indeed, my case is hopeless," said Mary, faintly, while all -expression, save that of vacant terror, faded from her face; "give me -some counsel--advise me, for God's sake, in this terrible hour. What -shall I do?" - -"Ah, my lady, I wish to the blessed saints I could," rejoined the girl; -"haven't you some friends in Dublin; couldn't I go for them?" - -"No--no," said she, hastily, "you must not leave me; but, thank God, -you have advised me well. I have one friend, and indeed only one, in -Dublin, whom I may rely upon, my uncle, Major O'Leary; I will write to -him." - -She sat down, and with cold trembling hands traced the hurried lines -which implored his succour; she then rang the bell. After some delay it -was answered by a strange servant; and, after a few brief inquiries, to -her unutterable horror she learned that all who remained of the old -faithful servants of the family had been dismissed, and persons whose -faces she had never seen before, hired in their stead. - -These were prompt and decisive measures, and ominously portended some -sinister catastrophe; the whole establishment reduced to a few -strangers, and--as she had too much reason to fear--tools and creatures -of the wretch Blarden. Having ascertained these facts, Mary Ashwoode, -without giving the letter to the man, dismissed him with some trivial -direction, and turning to her maid, said,-- - -"You see how it is; I am beset by enemies; may God protect and save me; -what shall I do? my mind--my senses, will forsake me. Merciful heaven! -what will become of me?" - -"Shall I take it myself, my lady?" inquired the maid. - -Mary raised herself eagerly, but with sudden dejection, said,-- - -"No--no; it cannot be; you must not leave me. I could not bear to be -alone here; besides, they must not think you are my friend; no, no, it -cannot be." - -"Well, my lady," said the maid decisively, "we'll leave the house -to-night; they'll not be on their guard against that, and once beyond -the walls, you're safe." - -"It is, I believe, the only chance of safety left me," replied Mary, -distractedly; "and, as such, it shall be tried." - - - - -CHAPTER LIV. - -THE TWO CHANCES--THE BRIBED COURIER. - - -"I don't half like the girl you've picked up," said Nicholas Blarden, -addressing his favourite parasite, Chancey; "she don't look half sharp -enough for our work; she hasn't the cut of a town lass about her; she's -too like a milk-maid, too simple, too soft. I've confounded misgivings -she's no schemer." - -"Well, well--dear me, but you're very suspicious," said Chancey. "I'd -like to know did ever anything honest come out of the 'Old Saint -Columbkil!' there wasn't a sharper little wench in the place than -herself, and I'll tell you that's a big word--no, no; there's not an -inch of the fool about her." - -"Well, she can't do us much mischief anyway," said Blarden; "the three -others are as true as steel--the devil's own chickens; and mind you -don't let the door-keys out of your pocket. Honour's all very fine, and -ought not to be doubted; but there's nothing to my mind like a stiff -bit of a rusty lock." - -Chancey smiled sleepily, and slapped the broad skirt of his coat twice -or thrice, producing therefrom the ringing clank which betoken the -presence of the keys in question. - -"So then we're all caged, by Jove," continued Blarden, rapturously; -"and very different sorts of game we are too: did you ever see the -show-box where the cats and the rats and the little birds are all boxed -up together, higgledy-piggledy, in the same wire cage. I can't but -think of it; it's so devilish like." - -"Well, well--dear me; I declare to God but you're a terrible funny -chap," said Chancey, enjoying a quiet chuckle; "but some way or -another," he continued, significantly, "I'm thinking the cat will have -a claw at the little bird yet." - -"Well, maybe it will;" rejoined Blarden, "you never knew one yet that -was not fond of a tit-bit when he could have it. Eh?" - -Thus playfully they conversed, seasoning their pleasantries with sack -and claret, and whatever else the cellars of Morley Court afforded, -until evening closed, and the darkness of night succeeded. - -Mary Ashwoode and her maid sat prepared for the execution of their -adventurous project; they had early left the outer room in which we saw -them last, and retired into her bedchamber to avoid suspicion; as the -night advanced they extinguished the lights, lest their gleaming -through the windows should betray the lateness of their vigil, and -alarm the fears of their persecutors. Thus, in silence and darkness, -not daring to speak, and almost afraid to breathe, they waited hour -after hour until long past midnight. The well-known sounds of riotous -swearing and horse-laughter, and the heavy trampling of feet, as the -half-drunken revellers staggered to their beds, now reached their ears -in noises faint and muffled by the distance. At length all was again -quiet, and nearly a whole hour of silence passed away ere they ventured -to move, almost to breathe. - -"Now, Flora, open the outer door softly," whispered Mary, "and listen -for any, the faintest sound; take off your shoes, and for your life -move noiselessly." - -"Never fear, my lady," responded the girl in a tone as low; and -slipping off her shoes from her feet, she pressed her hand upon the -young lady's wrist, to intimate silence, and glided into the little -boudoir. With sickening anxiety the young lady heard her cross the -small chamber, now and then stumbling against some pieces of furniture -and cautiously groping her way; at length the door-handle turned, and -then followed a silence. After an interval of a few seconds the girl -returned. - -"Well, Flora," whispered Mary, eagerly, as she approached, "is all -still?" - -"Oh! blessed hour! my lady, the door's locked on the outside," replied -the maid. - -"It can't be," said Mary Ashwoode, while her very heart sank within -her. "Oh! Flora, Flora--girl, don't say that." - -"It is indeed, my lady--as sure as I'm a living soul, it is so," -replied she fearfully; "and it was wide open when I came up. Oh! -blessed hour! my lady, what are we to do?" - -"I will try; I will see; perhaps you are mistaken. God grant you may -be," said the young lady, making her way to the door which opened on to -the lobby. She reached it--turned the handle--pressed it with all her -feeble strength, but in vain; it was indeed securely locked upon the -outside; her project of escape was baffled at the very outset, and with -a heart-sickening sense of terror and dismay--such as she had never -felt before--she returned with her attendant to her chamber. - -A night, sleepless, except for a few brief and fevered slumbers, -crowded with terrors, passed heavily away, and the morning found Mary -Ashwoode, pale, nervous, and feverish. She resolved, at whatever -hazard, to endeavour to induce one of the new servants to convey her -letter to Major O'Leary. The detection of this attempt could at worst -result in nothing worse than to precipitate whatever mischief Blarden -and his confederates had plotted, and which would if not so speedily, -at all events as surely overtake her, were no such attempt made. - -"Flora," said she, "I am resolved to try this chance, I fear me it is -but a poor one; you, however, my poor girl, must not be compromised -should it fail; you must not be exposed by your faithfulness to the -vengeance of these villains; do you go into the next room, and I will -try what may be done." - -So saying, she rang the bell, and in a few minutes it was answered by -the same man who had obeyed her summons on the day before. The man, -although arrayed in livery, had by no means the dapper air of a -professed footman, and possessed rather a villainous countenance than -otherwise; he stood at the door with one hand fumbling at the handle, -while he asked with an air half gruff and half awkward what she wanted. -She sat in silence for a minute like the enchanter whose spells have -been for the first time answered by the appearance of the familiar; too -much agitated and affrighted to utter her mandate; with a violent -effort she mastered her trepidation, and with an appearance of -self-possession and carelessness which she was far from feeling, she -said,-- - -"Can you, my good man, find a trusty messenger to carry a letter for me -to a friend in Dublin?" - -The man remained silent for some seconds, twisted his mouth into -several strange contortions, and looked very hard indeed at her. At -length he said, closing the door at the same time, and speaking in a -low key,-- - -"Well, I don't say but I _might_ find one, but there's a great many -things would make it very costly; maybe you could not afford to pay -him?" - -"I could--I would--see here," and she took a diamond ring from her -finger; "this is a diamond; it is of value--convey but this letter -safely and it is yours." - -The man took the ring from the table where she laid it, and examined it -curiously. - -"It's a pretty ring--it is," said he, removing it a little from his -eye, and turning it in different directions so as to make it flash and -sparkle in the light, "it _is_ a pretty ring, rayther small for my -fingers, though--it's a real diamond?" - -"It is indeed, valuable--worth forty pounds at least," she replied. - -"Well, then, here goes, it's worth a bit of a risk," and so saying he -deposited it carefully in a corner of his waistcoat pocket, "give me -the letter now, ma'am." - -She handed him the letter, and he thrust it into the deepest abyss of -his breeches pocket. - -"Deliver that letter but safely," said she, "and what I have given you -shall be but the earnest of what's to come, it is important--urgent--execute -but the mission truly, and I will not spare rewards." - -The man gave two short nods of huge significance, accompanied with a -slight grunt. - -"I say again, let me but have assurance that the message has been -done," repeated she, "and you shall have abundant reason to rejoice, -above all things dispatch--and--and--_secrecy_." - -The man winked very hard with one eye, and at the same time with his -crooked finger drew his nose so much on one side, that he seemed intent -on removing that feature into exile somewhere about the region of his -ear; and having performed this elegant and expressive pantomime for -several seconds, he stooped forward, and in an emphatic whisper said,-- - -"_Ne-ver fear._" - -He then opened the door and abruptly made his exit, leaving poor Mary -Ashwoode full of agitating hopes. - - - - -CHAPTER LV. - -THE FEARFUL VISITANT. - - -Two or three days had passed, during which Mary had ascertained the -fact that every door affording egress from the house was kept -constantly locked, and that the new servants, as well as Blarden and -his companions, were perpetually on the alert, and traversing the lower -apartments, so that even had the door of the mansion laid open it would -have been impossible to attempt an escape without encountering some one -of those whose chief object was to keep her in close confinement, -perhaps the very man from whose presence her inmost soul shrank in -terror--she felt, therefore, that she was as effectually and as -helplessly a prisoner as if she lay in the dungeons of a gaol. - -Often again had she endeavoured to see the man to whom she had confided -her letter to Major O'Leary, but in vain; her summons was invariably -answered by the others, and fearing to excite suspicion, she, of -course, did not inquire for him, and so, after a time, desisted from -her endeavours. - -Her window commanded a partial view of the old shaded avenue, and hour -after hour would she sit at her casement, watching in vain for the -longed-for appearance of her uncle, and listening, as fruitlessly, for -the clang of his horse's hoofs upon the stony court. - -"Oh! Flora, will he ever come?" she would exclaim, with a voice of -anguish, "will he ever--ever come to deliver me from this horrible -thraldom? I watch in vain, from the light of early dawn till darkness -comes--I watch in vain, for the welcome sight of my friend--in vain--in -vain I listen for the sound of his approach--heaven pity me, where shall -I turn for hope--all--all have forsaken me--all that ever I loved have -fallen from me, and left me desolate in this extremity--has he, too, my -last friend, forsaken me--will they leave me here to misery--oh, that -I might lay me down where head and heart are troubled no more, and be -at rest in the cold grave. He'll never come--no--no--no--never." - -Then she would wring her hands, still gazing from the casement, and -hopelessly sob and weep. - - -She knew not why it was that Nicholas Blarden had suffered her, for a -day or two, to be exempt from the dreaded intrusions of his hated -presence. But this afforded her little comfort; she knew not how -soon--at what moment--the monster might choose to present himself -before her under circumstances of horror so dreadful as those of her -present friendless and forsaken abandonment to his mercy--and when -these imminent fears were for an instant hushed, a thousand agonizing -thoughts, arising from the partial revelations of her late servant, -Carey, occupied her mind. That the correspondence between her and -O'Connor had been falsified--she dreaded, yet she hoped it might be -true--she feared, yet prayed it might be so--and while the thought that -others had wrought their estrangement, and that the coolness of -indifference had not touched the heart of him she so fondly loved -visited her mind, a thousand bright, but momentary hopes, fluttered her -poor heart, and, for an instant, her dangers and her fears were all -forgotten. - -The day had passed, and its broad, clear light had given place to the -red, dusky glow of sunset, when Mary Ashwoode heard the measured tread -of several persons approaching her room. With an instinctive -consciousness of her peril, she started to her feet, while every tinge -of colour fled entirely from her cheeks. - -"Flora--stay by me--oh, God, they are coming!" she said, and the words -had hardly escaped her lips, when the door of the boudoir, in which she -stood, was pushed open, and Nicholas Blarden, followed by Gordon -Chancey, entered the room. There was in the countenance of Blarden none -of his usual affectation of good humour; on the contrary, it wore a -scowl of undisguised and formidable menace, the effect of which was -enhanced by the baleful significance of the malignant glance which he -fixed upon her, and as he stood there biting his lips in ominous -silence, and gazing with savage, gloating eyes, upon the affrighted -girl, it were not easy to imagine an apparition more intimidating and -hideous. Even Chancey seemed a little uneasy in the anticipation of -what was coming, and the sallow face of the barrister looked more than -usually sallow, and his glittering eyes more glossy than ever. - -"Go out of the room, _you_--do you mind," said Blarden, grimly, -addressing Flora Guy, who had placed herself a little in advance of her -young mistress, and who stood mute and thunderstruck, looking upon the -two intruders--"are you palsied, or what--quit the room when I command -you, you brimstone fool;" and he clutched her by the shoulder, and -thrust her headlong out of the chamber, flinging the door to, with a -crash that made the walls ring again. - -"Listen to me and mind me, and weigh my words, or you'll rue it," said -he, with a tremendous oath, addressing himself to the speechless and -terrified lady. "I have a bit of information to give you, and then a -bit of advice after it; you must know it's my intention we shall be -married; mind me, _married_ to-morrow evening; I know you don't like -it; but _I_ do, and that's enough for my purpose; and whenever I make -my mind up to a thing, there is not that power in earth, or heaven, or -hell, to turn me from it. I was always considered a tough sort of a -chap when I was in earnest about anything; and I can tell you I'm -mighty well in earnest here; and now you may as well know how -completely I have you under my thumb; there is not a servant in the -house that does not belong to me; there is not a door in the house but -the key of it is in my keeping; there is not a word spoken in the house -but I hear it, nor a thing done that I don't know of it, and _here's -your letter for you_," he shouted, and flung her letter to Major -O'Leary open before her on the table. "How dare you tamper with my -servant's honesty? how _dare_ you?" thundered he, with a stamp upon the -floor which made the ornaments on the cabinet dance and jingle; "but -mind how you try it again--beware; mind how you offer to bribe them -again; I give you fair warning; you're my property now--to do what I -like with, just as much as my horse or my dog; and if you _won't_ obey -me, why I'll find a way to _make_ you; to-morrow evening I'll have a -parson here, and we'll be buckled; make no rout about it, and it will -be better for you, for whatever you do or say, if I had to get you into -a strait-waistcoat and clap a plaister over your mouth to keep you -quiet, married we shall be; husband and wife, and plenty of witnesses -to vouch for it; do you understand me, and no mistake; and if you're -foolish enough to make a row about it, I'll tell you what I'll do in -such a case," and he fixed his eyes with a still more horrible -expression upon her. "I have a particular friend, do you mind--a very -obliging, particular old friend that's a mad-doctor; do you hear me; -not a very lucky one to be sure, for he has made devilish few cures; a -mad-doctor, do you mind?--and I'll have him to reside here and -superintend your treatment; do you hear me? don't stand gaping there -like an idiot; do you hear me?" - -Blarden during this address had advanced into the room and stood by the -little table, leaning his knuckles upon it, and stooping forward and -advancing his menacing and hideous face, so as to diminish still -further the intervening distance, when, all on a sudden, like a -startled bird, she darted across the room, and ere they had time to -interpose, had opened the door, and was half-way across the lobby; she -passed Flora Guy, who was sobbing at the door with her apron to her -eyes, and at the head of the stairs beheld Sir Henry Ashwoode, no less -confounded at the rencounter than was she herself. - -"My brother! my brother!" she shrieked, and threw herself fainting into -his arms. - -Spite of all that was base in his character, the young man was so -shocked and confounded that he turned pale as death, and speech and -recollection for a moment forsook him. - -Almost at the same instant Chancey and Blarden were at his side. - -"What the devil ails you?" said Blarden, furiously, addressing -Ashwoode, "what do you stand there hugging her for, you white-faced -idiot?" - -Ashwoode's lips moved; but he could not speak, and the senseless burden -still lay in his arms. - -"Let her go, will you, you d----d oaf? take hold of the girl, Chancey, -and you, you idiot, come here and lend a hand; carry her into her room, -and mind, sweet lips, keep the key in your pocket; and if you want help -tatter the bells; get down, will you, you moon-struck fool?" he -continued, addressing Ashwoode; "what do you stand there for, with your -whitewashed face?" - -Ashwoode, scarcely knowing what he did, staggered down the stairs and -made his way to the parlour, where he sat gasping, with his face buried -in his hands. Meanwhile, with many a meek expression of pity, the -lawyer assisted Flora Guy in bearing the inanimate body of her mistress -into the chamber, where, in happy unconsciousness, she lay under the -tender care of her humble friend and servant. Blarden and Chancey -having accomplished the object of their mission, departed to the lower -regions to enjoy whatever good cheer Morley Court afforded. - - - - -CHAPTER LVI. - -EBENEZER SHYCOCK. - - -In pursuance of the arrangements which Mr. Blarden had, on the evening -before, announced to his intended victim, Gordon Chancey was despatched -early the next morning to engage the services of a clergyman for the -occasion. He knew pretty well how to choose his man, and for the most -part, when a plot was to be executed, in theatrical phrase, _cast_ the -parts well. He proceeded leisurely to the city, and sauntering through -the streets, found himself at length in Saint Patrick's Close; beneath -the shadow of the old Cathedral he turned down a narrow and deserted -lane and stopped before a dingy, miserable little shop, over whose -doorway hung a panel with the dusky and faded similitude of two great -keys crossed, now scarcely discernible through the ancient dust and -soot. The shop itself was a chaotic depository of old locks, holdfasts, -chisels, crowbars, and in short, of rusty iron in almost every -conceivable shape. Chancey entered this dusky shop, and accosting a -very grimed and rusty-looking little boy who was, with a file, -industriously employed in converting a kitchen candlestick into a -cannon, inquired,-- - -"I say, my good boy, does the Reverend Doctor Ebenezer Shycock stop -here yet?" - -"Aye, does he," said the youth, inspecting the visitor with a broad and -leisurely stare, while he wiped his forehead with his shirt sleeve. - -"Up the stairs, is it?" demanded Chancey. - -"Aye, the garrets," replied the boy. "And mind the hole in the top -lobby," he shouted after him, as he passed through the little door in -the back of the shop and began to ascend the narrow stairs. - -He did "mind the hole in the top lobby" (a very necessary caution, by -the way, as he might otherwise have been easily engulfed therein and -broken either his neck or his leg, after descending through the lath -and plaster, upon the floor of the landing-place underneath); and -having thus safely reached the garret door, he knocked thereupon with -his knuckles. - -"Come in," answered a female voice, not of the most musical quality, -and Chancey accordingly entered. A dirty, sluttish woman was sitting by -the window, knitting, and as it seemed, she was the only inmate of the -room. - -"Is the Reverend Ebenezer at home, my dear?" inquired the barrister. - -"He is, and he isn't," rejoined the female, oracularly. - -"How's that, my good girl?" inquired Chancey. - -"He's in the house, but he's not good for much," answered she. - -"Has he been throwing up the little finger, my dear?" said Chancey, "he -used to be rayther partial to brandy." - -"Brandy--brandy--who says brandy?" exclaimed a voice briskly from -behind a sheet which hung upon a string so as to screen off one corner -of the chamber. - -"Ay, ay, that's the word that'll waken you," said the woman. "Here's a -gentleman wants to speak with you." - -"The devil there is!" exclaimed the clerical worthy, abruptly, while -with a sudden chuck he dislodged the sheet which had veiled his -presence, and disclosed, by so doing, the form of a stout, short, -bull-necked man, with a mulberry-coloured face and twinkling grey -eyes--one of them in deep mourning. He wore a greasy red night-cap and -a very tattered and sad-coloured shirt, and was sitting upright in a -miserable bed, the covering of which appeared to be a piece of ancient -carpet. With one hand he scratched his head, while in the other he held -the sheet which he had just pulled down. - -"How are you, Parson Shycock?" said Chancey; "how do you find yourself -this morning, doctor?" - -"Tolerably well. But what is it you want with me? out with it, spooney. -Any job in my line, eh?" inquired the clergyman. - -"Yes, indeed, doctor," replied Chancey, "and a very good job; you're -wanted to marry a gentleman and a lady privately, not a mile and a half -out of town, this evening; you'll get five guineas for the job, and I -think that's no trifle." - -The parson mused, and scratched his head again. - -"Well," said he, "you must do a little job for me first. You can't be -ignorant that we members of the Church militant are often hard up; and -whenever I'm in a fix I pop wig, breeches, and gown, and take to my -bed; you'll find the three articles in this lane, corner house--sign, -three golden balls; present this docket--where the devil is it? ay, -here; all right--present this along with two guineas, paid in advance -on account of job: bring me the articles, and I'll get up and go along -with you in a brace of shakes. And stay; didn't I hear some one talking -of brandy? or--or was I dreaming? You may as well get in a half-pint, -for I'm never the thing till I have some little moderate refreshment; -so, dearly beloved, mizzle at once." - -"Dear me, dear me, doctor," said Chancey, "how can you think I'd go for -to bring two guineas along with me?" - -"If you haven't the _rhino_, this is no place for you, my fellow-sinner," -rejoined the couple-beggar; "and if you _have_, off with you and -deliver the togs out of pop. You wouldn't have a clergyman walk the -streets without breeches, eh, dearly beloved cove?" - -"Well, well, but you're a wonderful man," rejoined Chancey, with a -faint smile. "I suppose, then, I must do it; so give me the docket, and -I'll be here again as soon as I can." - -"And do you mind me, you stray sheep, you, don't forget the lush," -added the pastor. "I'm very desirous to wet my whistle; my mums, by the -hokey, is as dry as a Dutch brick. Good-bye to you, and do you mind, be -back here in the twinkling of a brace of bed-posts." - -With this injunction, and bearing the crumpled document, which the -reverend divine had given him, as his credentials with the pawnbroker, -Mr. Chancey cautiously lounged down the crazy stairs. - -"I say, my nutty Nancy," observed the parson, after a long yawn and a -stretch, addressing the female who sat at the window, "that chap's made -of money. I had a pint with him once in Clarke's public--round the -corner there. His name's Chancey, and he does half the bills in town--a -regular Jew chap." - -So saying, the Reverend Ebenezer Shycock, LL.D., unceremoniously rolled -himself out of bed and hobbled to a crazy deal box, in which were -deposited such articles of attire as had not been transmitted to the -obliging proprietor of the neighbouring three golden balls. - -While the reverend divine was kneeling before this box, and, with a -tenderness suited to their frail condition, removing the few scanty -articles of his wardrobe and laying them reverently upon a crazy stool -beside him, Mr. Chancey returned, bearing the liberated decorations of -the doctor's person, as also a small black bottle. - -"Oh, dear me, doctor," said Chancey, "but I'm glad to see you're -stirring. Here's the things." - -"And the--the lush, eh?" inquired the clergyman, peering inquisitively -round Chancey's side to have a peep at the bottle. - -"Yes, and the lush too," said the barrister. - -"Well, give me the breeches," said the doctor, with alacrity, clutching -those essential articles and proceeding to invest his limbs therein. -"And, Nancy, a sup of water and a brace of cups." - -A cracked mug and a battered pewter goblet made their appearance, and, -along with the ruin of a teapot which contained the pure element, were -deposited on a chair--for tables were singularly scarce in the reverend -doctor's establishment. - -"Now, my beloved fellow-sinner, mix like a Trojan!" exclaimed the -divine; "and take care, take care, pogey aqua, don't drown it with -water; chise it, _chise_ it, man, that'll do." - -With these words he grasped the vessel, nodded to Chancey, and -directing his two grey eyes with a greedy squint upon the liquor as it -approached his lips, he quaffed it at a single draught. - -Without waiting for an invitation, which Chancey thought his clerical -acquaintance might possibly forget, the barrister mingled some of the -same beverage for his own private use, and quietly gulped it down; -seeing which, and dreading Mr. Chancey's powers, which he remembered to -have already seen tested at "Clarke's public," the learned divine -abstractedly inverted the brandy bottle into his pewter goblet, and -shedding upon it an almost imperceptible dew from the dilapidated -teapot, he terminated the _symposium_ and proceeded to finish his -toilet. - -This was quickly done, and Mr. Gordon Chancey and the Reverend Ebenezer -Shycock--two illustrious and singularly well-matched ornaments of their -respective professions--proceeded arm in arm, both redolent of grog, to -the nearest coach stand, where they forthwith supplied themselves with -a vehicle; and while Mr. Chancey pretty fully instructed his reverend -companion in the precise nature of the service required of him, and, as -far as was necessary, communicated the circumstances of the whole case, -they traversed the interval which separated Dublin city from the manor -of Morley Court. - - - - -CHAPTER LVII. - -THE CHAPLAIN'S ARRIVAL AT MORLEY COURT--THE KEY--AND THE BOOZE IN THE -BOUDOIR. - - -The hall door was opened to the summons of the two gentlemen by no less -a personage than Nicholas Blarden himself, who, having carefully locked -it again, handed the key to his accomplice, Gordon Chancey. - -"Here, take it, Gordy, boy," exclaimed he, "I make you porter for the -term of the honeymoon. Keep the gates well, old boy, and never let the -keys out of your pocket unless I tell you. And so," continued he, -treating the Reverend Ebenezer Shycock to a stare which took in his -whole person, "you have caught the doctor and landed him fairly. -Doctor--what's your name? no matter--it's a delightful turn-up for a -sinner like me to have the heavenly consolation of your pious company. -Follow me in here; I dare say your reverence would not object to a -short interview with the brandy flask, or something of the kind--even -saints must wet their whistles now and again." - -So saying, Blarden led the way into the parlour. - -"Here, guzzle away, old gentleman, there's plenty of the stuff here," -said Blarden, "only beware how you make a beast of yourself. You -mustn't tie up your red rag, do you mind? We'll want you to stand and -read; and if you just keep senses enough for that, you may do whatever -you like with the rest." - -The clergyman nodded, and with a single sweep of his grey eyes, took in -the contents of the whole table. His shaking hand quickly grasped the -neck of the brandy flask, and he filled out and quaffed a comforting -bumper. - -"Now, take it easy, do, or, by Jove, you'll not _keep_ till evening," -said Blarden. "Chancey, have an eye on the parson, for his mind's so -intent on heaven that he may possibly forget where he is and what he's -doing. After dinner, Ashwoode and I have to go into town--some matters -that must be wound up before the evening's entertainment begins--we'll -be out, however, at eight o'clock or so. And mind this," he continued, -gripping the barrister's shoulder in his hand with an energizing -pressure, and speaking into his ear to secure attention, "you know that -little room upstairs wherein we had the bit of chat with my lady -love--the--the boudoir, I think they call it--now, mind me well--when -the dusk comes on, do you and his reverence there take your pipes and -your brandy, or whatever else you're amusing yourselves with at the -time, and sit in that same room together, so that not a mouse can cross -the floor unknown to you. Don't forget this, for we can't be too sharp. -Do you hear me, old Lucifer?" - -"Never fear, never fear," rejoined Mr. Chancey. "The Reverend Ebenezer -and I will spend the evening there--and, indeed, I declare to God, it's -a very neat little room, so it is, for a quiet pipe and a pot of sack." - -"Well, that's a point settled," rejoined Blarden. "And do you mind me, -don't let that beastly old sot knock himself up before we come home. Do -you hear me, old scarecrow," he continued, poking the reverend doctor -somewhere about the region of the abdomen with the hilt of his sword, -which he was adjusting at his side, and addressing himself to that -gentleman, "if I find you drunk when I return this evening, I'll make -it your last bout--I'll tap the brandy, old tickle pitcher, and stave -the cask, and send you to seek your fortune in the other world. Mind my -words--I'm not given to joking when I have real business on hand; and -faith, you'll find me as ready to _do_ as to promise." - -So saying, he left the room. - -"A rum cove, that, upon my little word," said the Reverend Ebenezer -Shycock, filling out another bumper of his beloved cordial. "Take the -bottle away at once; lock it up, my fellow-worm, lock it up, or I'll be -at it again. Lock it up while I have this glass in my hand, or I must -have another, and that might be--_might_, I say--_possibly_ might--but -d----n it, no, it can't--I will have one more." And so saying, with -desperate resolution, he quaffed what he had already in his hand and -filled out another. - -Chancey did not wait till he had repeated his mandate, but quietly -removed the seductive flask and placed it beyond the reach and the -sight of his clerical friend, who, feeling himself a little pleasant, -sat down before the hearth, and in a voice whose tone nearly resembled -that of a raven labouring under an affection of the chest, he chaunted -through his nose, with many significant winks and grimaces, a ditty at -that time in high acceptance among the votaries of vice and license, -and whose words were such as even the 'Old St. Columbkill' would hardly -have tolerated. This performance over--which, by the way, Chancey -relished in his own quiet way with intense enjoyment--the reverend -gentleman, composed himself for a doze for several hours, from which he -aroused himself to eat and to drink a little more. - -Thus pleasantly the day wore on, until at length the sun descended in -glory behind the far-off blue hills, and the pale twilight began to -herald the approach of night. - -That day Mary Ashwoode appeared to have lost all energy of thought and -feeling; she lay pale and silent upon her bed, seeming scarcely -conscious even of the presence of her faithful attendant. From the -moment of her yesterday's interview with Blarden, and the meeting with -her brother, she had been thus despairing and stupefied. Flora Guy sat -in the window, sometimes watching the pale face of the wretched lady, -and at others looking out upon the old woodlands and the great avenue, -darkened among its double rows of huge old limes. As the day wore on -she suddenly exclaimed,-- - -"Oh, my lady, here's a gentleman coming with Mr. Chancey up the avenue, -I see them between the trees, and the coach driving away." - -"Can it--_can_ it be?" exclaimed Mary, starting wildly up in the -bed--"is it he?" - -"It's a little stout gentleman, with a red pimply face--they're talking -under the window now, my lady; he has a band on, and a black gown -across his arm--as sure as daylight, my lady--he is--blessed hour; he -_is_ a parson." - -Mary Ashwoode did not speak, but the momentary flash of hope faded from -her face, and was succeeded by a paleness so deadly that lips and -cheeks looked bloodless as the marble lineaments of a statue; in dull -and silent despair she sank again where she had lain before. - -"Don't fear them, my lady," said the poor girl, placing herself by the -bedside where, more like a corpse than a living being, her hapless -mistress lay; "I will not leave you, and though they may threaten, they -dare not hurt you--don't fear them, my lady." - -The blanched cheeks and evident excitement of the honest maiden, -however, too clearly belied her words of encouragement. - -Twice or thrice the girl, in the course of the day, locking the door of -her mistress's chamber, according to the orders of Nicholas Blarden and -his confederates, but less in obedience to them than for the sake of -_her_ security, ran downstairs to learn whatever could be gathered from -the servants of the intended movements of the conspirators; each time, -as she descended the stairs, the parlour bell was rung, and a servant -encountered her before she had well reached the hall; and Mr. Chancey, -too, with his hands in his pockets, and his cunning eyes glittering -suspiciously through their half-closed lids, would meet and question -her before she passed: were ever sentinels more vigilant--was ever -_surveillance_ more jealous and complete? - -During these excursions she picked up whatever was to be learned of the -intentions of those in whose power her young mistress now helplessly -and despairingly lay. - -"Sir Henry Ashwoode and Mr. Blarden is gone to town together, my lady," -said the maid, in a whisper, for she felt the vigilance of Chancey and -his creatures might pursue her even to the chamber where she stood; -"they'll not be out till about eight o'clock, my lady, at the soonest, -maybe not till near nine or ten; at any rate it will be dark long -before they come, and God knows what may turn up before then--don't -lose heart, my lady--don't give up." - -In vain, entirely in vain, however, were the words of hope and courage -spoken; they fell cold and dead upon the palsied senses and stricken -heart of despairing terror. Mary Ashwoode scarcely understood, and -seemed not even to have heard them. - -As the evening approached the poor girl made another exploring ramble, -in the almost desperate speculation that she might possibly hit upon -something which might suggest even a hint of some mode of escape. -Having encountered Chancey and one of the serving men, as usual, and -passed her examination, she crossed the large old hall, and without any -definite pre-determination, entered Sir Henry's study, where he and -Blarden had been sitting, and carelessly thrown upon the table a large -key. For a moment she could scarcely believe her eyes, and her heart -bounded high with hope as she grasped it quickly and rolled it in her -apron--"Could it be the key of one of the doors through which alone -liberty was to be regained?" With a deliberate step, which strangely -belied her restless anxiety, she passed the door within which Chancey -was sitting, and ascended to the young lady's chamber. - -"My lady, is this it?" exclaimed she, almost breathless with -excitement, and holding the key before the lady's face. - -Mary Ashwoode with a momentary eagerness glanced at it. - -"No, no," said she, faintly, "I know all the keys of the outer doors; -it was I who brought them to my father every night; but this is none of -them--no, no, no, no." There was a dulness and apathy upon the young -lady, and a seeming insensibility to everything--to hope, to danger--to -all, in short, which had intensely interested every faculty of mind and -feeling but the day before--which frightened and dismayed her humble -friend. - -"Don't, my lady--don't give up--oh, sure you won't lose heart entirely; -see if I won't think of something--never mind, if I don't think of some -way or another yet." - -The red discoloured tints of evening were now fading from the -landscape, and rapidly giving place to the dim twilight--the harbinger -of a night of dangers, terrors, and adventures; and as the poor maiden -sat by the young lady's side, with a heart full of dark and ominous -foreboding, she heard the door of the outer chamber--the little boudoir -which we have often had occasion to mention--opened, and two persons -entered it. - -"They are here--they are come. Oh, God! they are here," exclaimed Mary -Ashwoode, clasping her small hand in terror round the girl's wrist. - -"The door's locked, my lady," said the girl, scarcely less terrified -than her mistress; "they can't come in without letting us know first.' -So saying, she ran to the door and peeped through the keyhole, to -reconnoitre the party, and then stepping on tip-toe to the young lady, -who, more dead than alive, was sitting by the bed-side, she said in a -whisper,-- - -"Who do you think it is, ma'am? blessed hour! my lady, who should it be -but that lawyer gentleman--that Mr. Chancey, and the old parson--they -are settling themselves at the table." - -Mr. Gordon Chancey and the Reverend Ebenezer Shycock were determined to -make themselves comfortable in their new quarters. Accordingly they -heaped wood and turf upon the expiring fire, and compelled the servant -to ply the kitchen bellows, until the hearth crackled and roared again; -then drawing the table to the fire-side--a pretty little work-table of -poor Mary's--now covered with brandy-flasks, pieces of tobacco, pipes, -and the other apparatus of their coarse debauch--the two worthies, -illuminated by a pair of ponderous wax-candles, and by the blaze of a -fire, and having drawn the curtains, sat themselves down and commenced -their jolly vigils. - -Chancey possessed the rare faculty of preserving his characteristic -cunning throughout every phase and stage of intoxication short of -absolute insensibility; on the present occasion, however, he was -resolved not to put this convenient accomplishment to the test. The -goodwill of Nicholas Blarden was too lucrative a possession to be -lightly parted with, and he could not afford to hazard it by too free -an indulgence upon the present important occasion; he therefore -conducted his assaults upon the bottle with a very laudable -abstemiousness. Not so, however, his clerical companion; he, too, had, -in connection with his convivial frailties, a compensating gift of his -own; he possessed, in an eminent degree, the power of recovering his -intellects upon short notice from the influence of brandy, and of -descending almost at a single bound from the loftiest altitude of -drunken inspiration to the dull insipid level of ordinary sobriety; all -he asked was fifteen minutes to bring himself to. He used to say with -becoming pride--"If I could have done it in _ten_, I'd have been a -bishop by this time; but _dis aliter visum_; I had not time one -forenoon; being wapper-eyed, I was five minutes short of my allowance -to get right, consequently officiated oddly--fell on my back on the way -out, and couldn't get up; but what signifies it? I'm better off, as -matters stand, ten to one; so here goes, my fellow-sinner, to it again; -one brimmer more." - -The reverend doctor, therefore, was much less cautious than his -companion, and soon began to exhibit very unequivocal symptoms of a -declension in his intellectual and physical energies, and a more than -corresponding elevation in his hilarious spirits. - -"I say," said Chancey, "my good man, you'd better stop; you have too -much in as it is; they'll be here before half-an-hour, and if Mr. -Blarden finds you this way, I declare to God I think he'll crack your -neck down the staircase." - -"Well, dearly beloved," said the clerical gentleman, "I believe you -_are_ right; I'll bring myself to. I _am_ a little heavy-eyed or so; -all I ask for is a towel and cold water." So saying, with many a screw -of the lips, and many a hiccough, he made an effort to rise, but -tumbled back--with an expression of the most heavenly benevolence--into -his chair, knocking his head with an audible sound upon the back of it, -and at the same time overturning one of the candles. - -"Pull the bell, dearly beloved," said he, with a smile and a -hiccough--"a basin of water and a towel." - -"Devil broil you, for a drunken beast," said Chancey, seriously alarmed -at the condition of the couple-beggar; "he'll never be fit for his work -to-night." - -"Fifteen minutes, neither more nor less," hiccoughed the divine, with -the same celestial smile--"towel, basin of cold water, and fifteen -minutes." - -Chancey did procure the cold water and a napkin, which, being laid -before the clergyman, he proceeded with much deliberation, while -various expressions of stupendous solemnity and beaming benevolence -flitted in beautiful alternations across his expressive countenance, to -prepare them for use. He doffed his wig, and first bathing his head, -face, and temples completely in the cool liquid, saturated the towel -likewise therein, and wound it round his shorn head in the fashion of a -Turkish turban; having accomplished which feat, he leaned back in his -chair, closed his eyes, and became, to all intents and purposes, for -the time being, stone dead. - -Leaving his reverend companion undisturbed to the operation of his own -hydropathic treatment, Gordon Chancey drew his seat near to the fire, -and filling his pipe anew with tobacco, leaned back in the chair, -crossed his legs, and more than half closing his eyes, prepared himself -luxuriously for what he called "a raal elegant draw of particular -pigtail." - - - - -CHAPTER LVIII. - -THE SIGNAL. - - -Flora Guy peeped eagerly through the keyhole of her lady's chamber into -the little apartment in which the two boon companions were seated. -After reconnoitring for a very long time, she moved lightly to her -mistress's side, and said, in a low but distinct tone,-- - -"Now, my lady, you must get up and rouse yourself--for God's sake, -mistress dear, shake off the heaviness that's over you, and we have a -chance left still." - -"Are they not in the next room to us?" inquired Mary. - -"Yes, my lady," replied the maid, "but the parson gentleman is drunk or -asleep, and Mr. Chancey is there alone--and--and has the four keys -beside him on the table; don't be frightened, my lady, do you stay -quite quiet, and I'll go into the room." - -Mary Ashwoode made no answer, but pressed the poor girl's hand in her -cold fingers, and without moving, almost without breathing, awaited the -result. Flora Guy, meanwhile, opened the door, and passed into the -outer apartment, assuming, as she did so, an air of easy and careless -indifference. Chancey turned as she entered the room, fanning the smoke -of his tobacco pipe aside with his hand, and eying her with a jealous -glance. - -"Well, my little girl," said he, "and what makes you leave your young -lady, my dear?" - -"An' is a body never to get an instant minute to themselves?" rejoined -she, with an indignant toss of her head; "why then, I tell you what it -is, Mr. Chancey, I'm tired to death, so I am, sitting in that little -room the whole blessed day, and not a word, good or bad, will the young -lady say--she's gone stupid like." - -"Is the door locked?" said Chancey, suspiciously, and at the same time -rising and approaching the young lady's chamber. - -As he did so, Flora Guy, availing herself instantly of this averted -position, snatched up, without waiting to choose, one of the four great -keys which lay upon the table, and replaced it dexterously with that -which she had but a short time before shown to her mistress; in doing -so, however, spite of all her caution, a slight clank was audible. - -"Well, _is_ it locked?" inquired the damsel, hoping by the loud tone in -which she uttered the question to drown the suspicious sounds which -threatened her schemes with instant detection. - -"Yes, it is locked," rejoined Chancey, glancing quickly at the keys; -"but what do you want there? move off from my place, will you?" and -shambling to the table he hastily gathered the four keys in his grasp, -and thrust them into his deep coat pocket. - -"You're in a mighty quare humour, so you are, Mr. Chancey," said the -girl, affecting a saucy tone, through which, had his ear been listening -for the sound, he might have detected the quaver of extreme agitation, -"you usedn't to be so cross by no means at the Columbkil, but mighty -pleasant, so you used." - -"Well, my little girl," said Chancey, whose suspicions were now -effectually quieted, "I declare to God you're the first that ever said -I was bad tempered, so you are--will you have something to drink?" - -"What have you there, Mr. Chancey?" inquired she. - -"This is brandy, my little girl, and this is sack, dear," rejoined -Chancey, "both of them elegant; you must have whichever you like--which -will you choose, dear?" - -"Well, then, I'll have a little drop of the sack, mulled, I thank you, -Mr. Chancey," replied she. - -"There's nothing to mull it in here, my little girl," objected the -barrister. - -"Oh, but I'll get it in a minute though," replied she, "I'll run down -for a saucepan." - -"Well, dear, run away," replied he, "but don't be long, for Miss -Ashwoode might want you, my little girl, and it wouldn't do if you were -out of the way, you know." - -Without waiting to hear the end of this charge, Flora Guy ran down the -staircase, and speedily returned with the utensil required. - -"Maybe I'd better go in for a minute first, and see if she wants me," -suggested the girl. - -"Very well, my dear," replied Chancey. - -And accordingly, she turned the key in the chamber door, closed it -again, and stood by the young lady's side; such was her agitation that -for three or four seconds she could not speak. - -"My lady," at length she said, "I have one of the keys--when I go in -next I'll leave your room door unlocked, only closed just, and no -more--the lobby door is ajar--I left it that way this very minute; and -when you hear me saying 'the sack's upset!'--do you open your door, and -cross the room as quick as light, and out on the lobby, and stop by the -stairs, my lady, and I'll follow you as fast as I can. Here, my lady," -continued the poor girl, bringing a small box from her mistress's -toilet; "your rings, my lady--they'll be wanted--mind, your rings, my -lady--there is the little case, keep it in your pocket; if we escape, -my lady, they'll be wanted--mind, Mr. Chancey has ears like needle -points. Keep up your heart, my lady, and in the name of God we'll try -this chance." - -"Into His hands I commit myself," said the young lady, with a tone and -air of more firmness and energy than she had shown for days; "my heart -is strengthened, my courage comes again--oh, thank God, I am equal to -this dreadful hour." - -Flora Guy made a gesture of silence, and then, opening the door -briskly, and shutting it again with an ostentatious noise, and drawing -the key from the lock, she crossed the room to where Chancey, who had -watched her entrance, was sitting. - -"Well, my dear," said he, "how is that delicate young lady in there?" - -"Why, she's raythur bad, I'm afraid," rejoined the girl; "she's the -whole day long in a sort of a heavy dulness like--she don't seem to -mind anything." - -"So much the better, my dear," said Chancey, "she'll be the less -inclined to gad, or to be troublesome--come, mix the spices and the -sugar, dear, and settle the liquor in the saucepan--you want some -refreshment, so you do, for I declare to God, I never saw anyone so -pale in all my life as you are this minute." - -"I'll not be long so," said the girl, affecting a tone of briskness, -and proceeding to mingle the ingredients in the little saucepan, "for I -think if I was dead itself, let alone a little bit tired, a cup of -mulled sack would cheer me up again." - -So saying, she placed the little saucepan on the bar. - -"Is the parson asleep?" inquired she. - -"Indeed, my dear, I'm very much afraid it's tipsy he is," drawled -Chancey, demurely, "take care of that clergyman, my dear, for indeed -I'm afraid he has very loose conduct." - -"Will I blacken his nose with a burned cork?" inquired she. - -"Oh! no, my little girl," replied Chancey, with a tranquil chuckle, and -turning his sleepy grey eyes upon the apoplectic visage of the -stupefied drunkard who sat bolt upright before him; "no, no, we don't -know the minute he may be wanted; he'll have to perform the ceremony -very soon, my dear; and Mr. Blarden, if he took the fancy, would think -nothing of braining half a dozen of us. I declare to God he wouldn't." - -"Well, Mr. Chancey, will you mind the little saucepan for one minute," -said she, "while I'm putting a bit of turf or a few sticks under it." - -"Indeed I will," said he, turning his eyes lazily upon the utensil, but -doing nothing more to secure it. Flora Guy accordingly took some wood, -and, pretending to arrange the fire, overturned the wine; the loud hiss -of the boiling liquid, and the sudden cloud of whirling steam and -ashes, ascending toward the ceiling, and puffing into his face, half -confounded the barrister, and at the same instant, Flora Guy, clapping -her hands, and exclaimed with a shrill cry,-- - -"_The sack's upset! the sack's upset!_ lend a hand, Mr. Chancey--Mr. -Chancey, do you hear?" and, while thus conjured, the barrister, in -obedience to her vociferous appeal, made some indistinct passes at the -saucepan with the poker, which he had grasped at the first alarm; the -damsel, without daring to look directly where every feeling would have -riveted her eyes, beheld a dark form glide noiselessly behind Chancey, -and pass from the room. For the moment, so intense was her agony of -anxiety, she felt upon the very point of fainting; in an instant more, -however, she had recovered all her energies, and was bold and -quick-witted as ever; one glance in the direction of the lady's chamber -showed her the door slowly swinging open; fortunately the barrister was -at the moment too much occupied with the extraction of the remainder of -the saucepan from the fire, to have yet perceived the treacherous -accident, one glance at which would have sealed their ruin, and Flora -Guy, running noiselessly to the door, remedied the perilous disclosure -by shutting it softly and quickly; and then, with much clattering of -the key, and a good deal of pushing beside, forcing it open again, she -passed into the room and spoke a little in a low tone, as if to her -mistress; and then, returning, she locked the door of the then -untenanted chamber in real earnest, and, crossing to Chancey, said:--"I -wonder at you, so I do, Mr. Chancey; you frightened the young mistress -half out of her wits; and I'm all over dust and ashes; I must run down -and wash every inch of my face and hands, so I must; and here, Mr. -Chancey, will you keep the key of the bed-room till I come back? afraid -I might drop it; and don't let it out of your hands." - - [Illustration: "Glide noiselessly behind Chancey." - _To face page 293._] - -"I will indeed, dear; but don't be long away," rejoined the barrister, -extending his hand to receive the key of the now vacant chamber. - -So Flora Guy boldly walked forth upon the lobby, and closing the -chamber door behind her, found herself in the vast old gallery, hung -round with grim and antique portraits, and lighted only by the fitful -beams of a clouded moon shining doubtfully through the stained glass of -a solitary window. - -Mary Ashwoode awaited her approach, concealed in a small recess or -niche in the wall, shrined like an image in the narrow enclosure of -carved oak, not daring to stir, and with a heart throbbing as though it -would burst. - -"My lady, are you there?" whispered the maid, scarce audibly; great -nervous excitement renders the sense morbidly acute, and Mary Ashwoode -heard the sound distinctly, faint though it was, and at some distance -from her; she stepped falteringly from her place of concealment, and -took the hand of her conductress in a grasp cold as that of death -itself, and side by side they proceeded down the broad staircase. They -had descended about half-way when a loud and violent ringing from the -bell of the chamber where Chancey was seated made their very hearts -bound with terror; they stood fixed and breathless on the stair where -the fearful peal had first reached their ears. Again the summons came -louder still, and at the same moment the sounds of steps approached -from below, and the gleam of a candle quickly followed; Mary Ashwoode -felt her ears tingle and her head swim with terror; she was on the -point of sinking upon the floor. In this dreadful extremity her -presence of mind did not forsake Flora Guy: disengaging her hand from -that of her terrified mistress, she tripped lightly down the stairs to -meet the person who was approaching--a turn in the staircase confronted -them, and she saw before her the serving man whose treachery had -already defeated Mary Ashwoode's hopes of deliverance. - -"What keeps you such a time answering the bell?" inquired she, saucily, -"you needn't go up now, for I've got your message; bring up clean cups -and a clean saucepan, for everything's destroyed with the dust and dirt -Mr. Chancey's after kicking up; what did he do, do you think, but -upsets the sack into the fire. Now be quick with the things, will you? -the bell won't be easy one minute till they're done." - -"Give me a kiss, sweet lips," exclaimed the man, setting down his -candle, "and I'll not be a brace of shakes about the message; come, you -_must_," he continued, playfully struggling with the affrighted girl. - -"Well, do the message first, at any rate," said she, forcing herself, -with some difficulty, from his grasp, as the bell rang a third time; -"it will be a nice piece of business, so it will, if Mr. Chancey comes -down and catches you here, pulling me about, so it will, you'll look -well, won't you, when he's telling it to Mr. Blarden?--don't be a -fool." - -The reiterated application to the bell had more effect upon the serving -man than all her oratory, and muttering a curse or two, he ran down, -determined, vindictively, to bring up soiled cups, and a dirty -saucepan. The man had hardly departed, when the maid exclaimed, in a -hurried whisper, "Come--come--quick--quick, for your life!" and with -scarcely the interval of three seconds, they found themselves in the -hall. - -"Here's the key, my lady; see which of the doors does it open," -whispered she, exhibiting the key in the dusky and imperfect light. - -"Here--here--this way," said Mary Ashwoode, moving with weak and -stumbling steps through a tiled lobby which opened upon the great hall, -and thence along a narrow passage upon which several doors opened. -"Here, here," she exclaimed, "this door--this--I cannot open it--my -strength is gone--this is it--for God's sake, quickly." - -After two or three trials, Flora Guy succeeded in getting the key into -the lock, and then exerting the whole strength of her two hands, with a -hoarse jarring clang the bolt revolved, the door opened, and they stood -upon the fresh and dewy sward, beneath the shadow of the old -ivy-mantled walls. The girl locked the door upon the outside, fearful -that its lying open should excite suspicion, and flung the key away -into the thick weeds and brushwood. - -"Now, my lady, the shortest way to the high road?" inquired Flora in a -hurried whisper, and supporting, as well as she could, the tottering -steps of her mistress, "how do you feel, my lady? Don't lose heart now, -a few minutes more and you will be safe--courage--courage, my lady." - -"I am better now, Flora," said Mary faintly, "much better--the cool air -refreshes me." As she thus spoke, her strength returned, her step grew -fleeter and firmer, and she led the way round the irregular ivy-clothed -masses of the dark old building and through the stately trees that -stood gathered round it. Over the unequal sward they ran with the light -steps of fear, and under the darksome canopy of the vast and ancient -linden-trees, gliding upon the smooth grass like two ghosts among the -chequered shade and dusky light. On, on they sped, scarcely feeling the -ground beneath their feet as they pursued their terrified flight; they -had now gained the midway distance in the ancient avenue between the -mansion and great gate, and still ran noiselessly and fleetly along, -when the quick ear of Mary Ashwoode caught the distant sounds of -pursuit. - -"Flora--Flora--oh, God! we are followed," gasped the young lady. - -"Stop an instant, my lady," rejoined the maid, "let us listen for a -second." - -They did pause, and distinctly, between them and the old mansion, they -heard, among the dry leaves with which in places the ground was strewn, -the tread of steps pursuing at headlong speed. - -"It is--it is, I hear them," said Mary distractedly. - -"Now, my lady, we must run--run for our lives; if we but reach the road -before them, we may yet be saved; now, my lady, for God's sake don't -falter--don't give up." - -And while the sounds of pursuit grew momentarily louder and more loud, -they still held their onward way with throbbing hearts, and eyes almost -sightless with fatigue and terror. - - - - -CHAPTER LIX. - -HASTE AND PERIL. - - -The rush of feet among the leaves grew every moment closer and closer -upon them, and now they heard the breathing of their pursuer--the -sounds came near--nearer--they approached--they reached them. - -"Oh, God! they are up with us--they are upon us," said Mary, stumbling -blindly onward, and at the same moment she felt something laid heavily -upon her shoulder--she tottered--her strength forsook her, and she fell -helplessly among the branching roots of the old trees. - -"My lady--oh, my lady--thank God, it's only the dog," cried Flora Guy, -clapping her hands in grateful ecstasies; and at the same time, Mary -felt a cold nose thrust under her neck and her chin and cheeks licked -by her old favourite, poor Rover. More dead than alive, she raised -herself again to her feet, and before her sat the great old dog, his -tail sweeping the rustling leaves in wide circles, and his -good-humoured tongue lolling from among his ivory fangs. With many a -frisk and bound the fine dog greeted his long-lost mistress, and seemed -resolved to make himself one of the party. - -"No, no, poor Rover," said Mary, hurriedly--"we have rambled our last -together--home, Rover, home." - -The old dog looked wonderingly in the face of his mistress. - -"Home, Rover--home," repeated she, and the noble dog did credit to his -good training by turning dejectedly, and proceeding at a slow, broken -trot homeward, after stopping, however, and peeping round his shoulder, -as though in the hope of some signal relentingly inviting his return. - -Thus relieved of their immediate fears, the two fugitives, weak, -exhausted, and breathless, reached the great gate, and found themselves -at length upon the high road. Here they ventured to check their speed, -and pursue their way at a pace which enabled them to recover breath and -strength, but still fearfully listening for any sound indicative of -pursuit. - -The moon was high in the heavens, but the dark, drifting scud was -sailing across her misty disc, and giving to her light the character of -ceaseless and ever varying uncertainty. The road on which they walked -was that which led to Dublin city, and from each side was embowered by -tall old trees, and rudely fenced by unequal grassy banks. They had -proceeded nearly half-a-mile without encountering any living being, -when they heard, suddenly, a little way before them, the sharp clang of -horses' hoofs upon the road, and shortly after, the moon shining forth -for a moment, revealed distinctly the forms of two horsemen approaching -at a slow trot. - -"As sure as light, my lady, it's they," said Flora Guy, "I know Sir -Henry's grey horse--don't stop, my lady--don't try to hide--just draw -the hood over your head, and walk on steady with me, and they'll never -mind us, but pass on." - -With a throbbing heart, Mary obeyed her companion, and they walked side -by side by the edge of the grassy bank and under the tall trees--the -distance between them and the two mounted figures momentarily -diminishing. - -"I say he's as lame as a hop-jack," cried the well-known voice of -Nicholas Blarden, as they approached--"hav'n't you an eye in your head, -you mouth, you--look there--another false step, by Jove." - -Just at this moment the girls, looking neither to the right nor left, -and almost sinking with fear, were passing them by. - -"Stop you, one of you, will you?" said Blarden, addressing them, and at -the same time reining in his horse. - -Flora Guy stopped, and making a slight curtsey, awaited his further -pleasure, while Mary Ashwoode, with faltering steps and almost dead -with terror, walked slowly on. - -"Have you light enough to see a stone in a horse's hoof, my dimber -hen?--have you, I say?" - -"Yes, sir," faltered the girl, with another curtsey, and not venturing -to raise her voice, for fear of detection. - -"Well, look into them all in turn, will you?" continued Blarden, "while -I walk the beast a bit. Do you see anything? is there a stone -there?--is there?" - -"No, sir," said she again, with a curtsey. - -"No, sir," echoed he--"but I say 'yes, sir,' and I'll take my oath of -it. D----n it, it can't be a strain. Get down, Ashwoode, I say, and -look to it yourself; these blasted women are fit for nothing but -darning old stockings--get down, I say, Ashwoode." - -Without awaiting for any more formal dismissal, Flora Guy walked -quickly on, and speedily overtook her companion, and side by side they -continued to go at the same moderate pace, until a sudden turn in the -road interposing trees and bushes between them and the two horsemen, -they renewed their flight at the swiftest pace which their exhausted -strength could sustain; and need had they to exert their utmost speed, -for greater dangers than they had yet escaped were still to follow. - -Meanwhile Nicholas Blarden and Sir Henry Ashwoode mended their pace, -and proceeded at a brisk trot toward the manor of Morley Court. Both -rode on more than commonly silent, and whenever Blarden spoke, it was -with something more than his usual savage moroseness. No doubt their -rapid approach to the scene where their hellish cruelty and oppression -were to be completed, did not serve either to exhilarate their spirits -or to soothe the asperities of Blarden's ruffian temper. Now and then, -indeed, he did indulge in a few flashes of savage exulting glee at his -anticipated triumph over the hereditary pride of Sir Henry, against -whom, with all a coward's rancour, he still cherished a "lodged hate," -and in mortifying and insulting whom his kestrel heart delighted and -rioted with joy. As they approached the ancient avenue, as if by mutual -consent, they both drew bridle and reduced their pace to a walk. - -"You shall be present and give her away--do you mind?" said Blarden, -abruptly breaking silence. - -"There's no need for that--surely there is none?" said Ashwoode. - -"Need or no need, it's my humour," replied Blarden. - -"I've suffered enough already in this matter," replied Sir Henry, -bitterly; "there's no use in heaping gratuitous annoyances and -degradation upon me." - -"Ho, ho, running rusty," exclaimed Blarden, with the harsh laugh of -coarse insult--"running rusty, eh? I thought you were broken in by this -time--paces learned and mouth made, eh?--take care, take care." - -"I say," repeated Ashwoode, impetuously, "you can have no object in -compelling my presence, except to torment me." - -"Well, suppose I allow that--what then, eh?--ho, ho!" retorted Blarden. - -Sir Henry did not reply, but a strange fancy crossed his mind. - -"I say," resumed Blarden, "I'll have no argument about it; I choose it, -and what I choose must be done--that's enough." - -The road was silent and deserted; no sound, save the ringing of their -own horses' hoofs upon the stones, disturbed the stillness of the air; -dark, ragged clouds obscured the waning moon, and the shadows were -deepened further by the stooping branches of the tall trees which -guarded the road on either side. Ashwoode's hand rested upon the pommel -of his holster pistol, and by his side moved the wretch whose cunning -and ferocity had dogged and destroyed him--with startling vividness the -suggestion came. His eyes rested upon the dusky form of his companion, -all calculations of consequences faded away from his remembrance, and -yielding to the dark, dreadful influence which was upon him, he -clutched the weapon with a deadly gripe. - -"What are you staring at me for?--am I a stone wall, eh?" exclaimed -Blarden, who instinctively perceived something odd in Ashwoode's air -and attitude, spite of the obscurity in which they rode. - -The spell was broken. Ashwoode felt as if awaking from a dream, and -looked fearfully round, almost expecting to behold the visible presence -of the principle of mischief by his side, so powerful and vivid had -been the satanic impulse of the moment before. - -They turned into the great avenue through which so lately the fugitives -had fearfully sped. - -"We're at home now," cried Blarden; "come, be brisk, will you?" And so -saying, he struck Ashwoode's horse a heavy blow with his whip. The -spirited animal reared and bolted, and finally started at a gallop down -the broad avenue towards the mansion, and at the same pace Nicholas -Blarden also thundered to the hall door. - - - - -CHAPTER LX. - -THE UNTREASURED CHAMBER. - - -Their obstreperous summons at the door was speedily answered, and the -two cavaliers stood in the hall. - -"Well, all's right, I suppose?" inquired Blarden, tossing his gloves -and hat upon the table. - -"Yes, sir," replied the servant, "all but the lady's maid; Mr. -Chancey's been calling for her these five minutes and more, and we -can't find her." - -"How's this--all the doors locked?" inquired Blarden vehemently. - -"Ay, sir, every one of them," replied the man. - -"Who has the keys?" asked Blarden. - -"Mr. Chancey, sir," replied the servant. - -"Did he allow them out of his keeping--did he?" urged Blarden. - -"No, sir--not a moment--for he was saying this very minute," answered -the domestic, "he had them in his pocket, and the key of Miss Mary's -room along with them; he took it from Flora Guy, the maid, scarce a -quarter of an hour ago." - -"Then all _is_ right," said Blarden, while the momentary blackness of -suspicion passed from his face, "the girl's in some hole or corner of -this lumbering old barrack, but here comes Chancey himself, what's all -the fuss about--who's in the upper room--the--the boudoir, eh?" he -continued, addressing the barrister, who was sneaking downstairs with a -candle in his hand, and looking unusually sallow. - -"The Reverend Ebenezer and one of the lads--they're sitting there," -answered Chancey, "but we can't find that little girl, Flora Guy, -anywhere." - -"Have you the keys?" asked Blarden. - -"Ay, dear me, to be sure I have, except the one that I gave to little -Bat there, to let you in this minute. I have the three other keys; dear -me--dear me--what could ail me?" And so saying, Chancey slapped the -skirt of his coat slightly so as to make them jingle in his pocket. - -"The windows are all fast and safe as the wall itself--screwed down," -observed Blarden, "let's see the keys--show them here." - -Chancey accordingly drew them from his pocket, and laid them on the -table. - -"There's the three of them," observed he, calmly. - -"Have you no more?" inquired Blarden, looking rather aghast. - -"No, indeed, the devil a one," replied Chancey, thrusting his arm to -the elbow in his coat pocket. - -"D--n me, but I think this is the key of the cellar," ejaculated -Blarden, in a tone which energized even the apathetic lawyer, "come -here, Ashwoode, what key's this?" - -"It _is_ the cellar key," said Ashwoode, in a faltering voice and -turning very pale. - -"Try your pockets for another, and find it, or ----." The aposiopesis -was alarming, and Blarden's direction was obeyed instantaneously. - -"I declare to God," said Chancey, much alarmed, "I have but the three, -and that in the door makes four." - -"You d----d oaf," said Blarden, between his set teeth, "if you have -botched this business, I'll let you know for what. Ashwoode, which of -the keys is missing?" - -After a moment's hesitation, Ashwoode led the way through the passage -which Mary and her companion had so lately traversed. - -"That's the door," said he, pointing to that through which the escape -had been effected. - -"And what's this?" cried Blarden, shouldering past Sir Henry, and -raising something from the ground, just by the door-post, "a -handkerchief, and marked, too--it's the young lady's own--give me the -key of the lady's chamber," continued he, in a low changed voice, which -had, in the ears of the barrister, something more unpleasant still than -his loudest and harshest tones--"give me the key, and follow me." - -He clutched it, and followed by the terror-stricken barrister, and by -Sir Henry Ashwoode, he retraced his steps, and scaled the stairs with -hurried and lengthy strides. Without stopping to glance at the form of -the still slumbering drunkard, or to question the servant who sat -opposite, on the chair recently occupied by Chancey, he strode directly -to the door of Mary Ashwoode's sleeping apartment, opened it, and stood -in an untenanted chamber. - -For a moment he paused, aghast and motionless; he ran to the bed--still -warm with the recent pressure of his intended victim--the room was, -indeed, deserted. He turned round, absolutely black and speechless with -rage. As he advanced, the wretched barrister--the tool of his worst -schemes--cowered back in terror. Without speaking one word, Blarden -clutched him by the throat, and hurled him with his whole power -backward. With tremendous force he descended with his head upon the bar -of the grate, and thence to the hearthstone; there, breathless, -powerless, and to all outward seeming a livid corpse, lay the devil's -cast-off servant, the red blood trickling fast from ears, nose, and -mouth. Not waiting to see whether Chancey was alive or dead, Mr. -Blarden seized the brandy flask and dashed it in the face of the stupid -drunkard--who, disturbed by the fearful hubbub, was just beginning to -open his eyes--and leaving that reverend personage drenched in blood -and brandy, to take care of his boon companion as best he might, -Blarden strode down the stairs, followed by Ashwoode and the servants. - -"Get horses--horses all," shouted he, "to the stables--by Jove, it was -they we met on the road--the two girls--quick to the stables--whoever -catches them shall have his hat full of crowns." - -Led by Blarden, they all hurried to the stables, where they found the -horses unsaddled. - -"On with the saddles--for your life be quick," cried Blarden, "four -horses--fresh ones." - -While uttering his furious mandates, with many a blasphemous -imprecation, he aided the preparations himself, and with hands that -trembled with eagerness and rage, he drew the girths, and buckled the -bridles, and in almost less than a minute, the four horses were led out -upon the broken pavement of the stable-yard. - -"Mind, boys," cried Blarden, "they are two mad-women--escaped -mad-women--ride for your lives. Ashwoode, do you take the right, and -I'll take the left when we come on the road--do you follow me, -Tony--and Dick, do you go with Sir Henry--and, now, devil take the -hindmost." With these words he plunged the spurs into his horse's -flanks, and with the speed of a thunder blast, they all rode -helter-skelter, in pursuit of their human prey. - - - - -CHAPTER LXI. - -THE CART AND THE STRAW. - - -While this was passing, the two girls continued their flight toward -Dublin city. They had not long passed Ashwoode and Nicholas Blarden, -when Mary's strength entirely failed, and she was forced first to -moderate her pace to a walk, and finally to stop altogether and seat -herself upon the bank which sloped abruptly down to the road. - -"Flora," said she, faintly, "I am quite exhausted--my strength is -entirely gone; I must perforce rest myself and take breath here for a -few minutes, and then, with God's help, I shall again have power to -proceed." - -"Do so, my lady," said Flora, taking her stand beside her mistress, -"and I'll watch and listen here by you. Hish! don't I hear the sound of -a car on the road before us?" - -So, indeed, it seemed, and at no great distance too. The road, however, -just where they had placed themselves, made a sweep which concealed the -vehicle, whatever it might be, effectually from their sight. The girl -clambered to the top of the bank, and thence commanding a view of that -part of the highway which beneath was hidden from sight, she beheld, -two or three hundred yards in advance of them, a horse and cart, the -driver of which was seated upon the shaft, slowly wending along in the -direction of the city. - -"My lady," said she, descending from her post of observation, "if you -have strength to run on for only a few perches more of the road, we'll -be up with a car, and get a lift into town without any more trouble; -try it, my lady." - -Accordingly they again set forth, and after a few minutes' further -exertion, they came up with the vehicle and accosted the driver, a -countryman, with a short pipe in his mouth, who, with folded arms, sat -listlessly upon the shaft. - -"Honest man, God bless you, and give us a bit of a lift," said Flora -Guy; "we've come a long way and very fast, and we are fairly tired to -death." - -The countryman drew the halter which he held, and uttering an -unspellable sound, addressed to his horse, succeeded in bringing him -and the vehicle to a standstill. - -"Never say it twiste," said he; "get up, and welcome. Wait a bit, till -I give the straw a turn for yees; not for it; step on the wheel; don't -be in dread, he won't move." - -So saying, he assisted Mary Ashwoode into the rude vehicle, and not -without wondering curiosity, for the hand which she extended to him was -white and slender, and glittered in the moonlight with jewelled rings. -Flora Guy followed; but before the cart was again in motion, they -distinctly heard the far-off clatter of galloping hoofs upon the road. -Their fears too truly accounted for these sounds. - -"Merciful God! we are pursued," said Mary Ashwoode; and then turning to -the driver, she continued, with an agony of imploring terror--"as you -look for pity at the dreadful hour when all shall need it, do not -betray us. If it be as I suspect, we are pursued--pursued with an -evil--a dreadful purpose. I had rather die a thousand deaths than fall -into the hands of those who are approaching." - -"Never fear," interrupted the man; "lie down flat both of you in the -cart and I'll hide you--never fear." - -They obeyed his directions, and he spread over their prostrate bodies a -covering of straw; not quite so thick, however, as their fears would -have desired; and thus screened, they awaited the approach of those -whom they rightly conjectured to be in hot pursuit of them. The man -resumed his seat upon the shaft, and once more the cart was in motion. - -Meanwhile, the sharp and rapid clang of the hoofs approached, and -before the horsemen had reached them, the voice of Nicholas Blarden was -shouting-- - -"Holloa--holloa, honest fellow--saw you two young women on the road?" - -There was scarcely time allowed for an answer, when the thundering -clang of the iron hoofs resounded beside the conveyance in which the -fugitives were lying, and the horsemen both, with a sudden and violent -exertion, brought their beasts to a halt, and so abruptly, that -although thrown back upon their haunches, the horses slid on for -several yards upon the hard road, by the mere impetus of their former -speed, knocking showers of fire flakes from the stones. - -"I say," repeated Blarden, "did two girls pass you on the road--did you -see them?" - -"Divil a sign of a girl I see," replied the man, carelessly; and to -their infinite relief, the two fugitives heard their pursuer, with a -muttered curse, plunge forward upon his way. This relief, however, was -but momentary, for checking his horse again, Blarden returned. - -"I say, my good chap, I passed you before to-night, not ten minutes -since, on my way out of town, not half-a-mile from this spot--the girls -were running this way, and if they're between this and the gate--they -must have passed you." - -"Devil a girl I seen this---- Oh, begorra! you're right, sure enough," -said the driver, "what the devil was I thinkin' about--two girls--one -of them tall and slim, with rings on her fingers--and the other a -short, active bit of a colleen?" - -"Ay--ay--ay," cried Blarden. - -"Sure enough they did overtake me," said the man, "shortly after I -passed two gentlemen--I suppose you are one of them--and the little one -axed me the direction of Harold's-cross--and when I showed it to them, -bedad they both made no more bones about it, but across the ditch with -them, an' away over the fields--they're half-way there by this time--it -was jist down there by the broken bridge--they were quare-looking -girls." - -"It would be d----d odd if they were not--they're both mad," replied -Blarden; "thank you for your hint." - -And so saying, as he turned his horse's head in the direction -indicated, he chucked a crown piece into the cart. As the conveyance -proceeded, they heard the driver soliloquizing with evident -satisfaction-- - -"Bedad, they'll have a plisint serenade through the fields, the two of -them," observed he, standing upon the shafts, and watching the progress -of the two horsemen--"there they go, begorra--over the ditch with them. -Oh, by the hokey, the sarvint boy's down--the heart's blood iv a -toss--an' oh, bloody wars! see the skelp iv the whip the big chap gives -him--there they go again down the slope--now for it--over the gripe -with them--well done, bedad, and into the green lane--devil take the -bushes, I can't see another sight iv them. Young women," he continued, -again assuming his sitting position, and replacing his pipe in the -corner of his mouth--"all's safe now--they're clean out of sight--you -may get up, miss." - -Accordingly, Mary Ashwoode and Flora Guy raised themselves. - -"Here," said the latter, extending her hand toward the driver, "here's -the silver he threw to you." - -"I wisht I could airn as much every day as aisily," said the man, -securing his prize; "that chap has raal villiany in his face; he looks -so like ould Nick, I'm half afeard to take his money; the crass of -Christ about us, I never seen such a face." - -"You're an honest boy at any rate," said Flora Guy, "you brought us -safe through the danger." - -"An' why wouldn't I--what else 'id I do?" rejoined the countryman; "it -wasn't for to sell you I was goin'." - -"You have earned my gratitude for ever," said Mary Ashwoode; "my -thanks, my prayers; you have saved me; your generosity, and humanity, -and pity, have delivered me from the deadliest peril that ever yet -overtook living creature. God bless you for it." - -She removed a ring from her finger, and added--"Take this; nay, do not -refuse so poor an acknowledgment for services inestimable." - -"No, miss, no," rejoined the countryman, warmly, "I'll not take it; -I'll not have it; do you think I could do anything else but what I did, -and you putting yourself into my hands the way you did, and trusting to -me, and laving yourselves in my power intirely? I'm not a Turk, nor an -unnatural Jew; may the devil have me, body and soul, the hour I take -money, or money's worth, for doin' the like." - -Seeing the man thus resolved, she forbore to irritate him by further -pressing the jewel on his acceptance, and he, probably to put an end to -the controversy, began to shake and chuck the rope halter with -extraordinary vehemence, and at the same time with the heel of his -brogue, to stimulate the lagging jade, accompanying the application -with a sustained hissing; the combined effect of all which was to cause -the animal to break into a kind of hobbling canter; and so they rumbled -and clattered over the stony road, until at length their charioteer -checked the progress of his vehicle before the hospitable door-way of -"The Bleeding Horse"--the little inn to which, in the commencement of -these records, we have already introduced the reader. - -"Hould that, if you plase," said he, placing the end of the halter in -Flora Guy's hand, "an' don't let him loose, or he'll be makin' for the -grass and have you upset in the ditch. I'll not be a minute in here; -and maybe the young lady and yourself 'id take a drop of something; the -evenin's mighty chill entirely." - -They both, of course, declined the hospitable proposal, and their -conductor, leaving them on the cart, entered the little hostelry; -outside the door were two or three cars and horses, whose owners were -boozing within; and feeling some return of confidence in the -consciousness that they were in the neighbourhood of persons who could, -and probably would, protect them, should occasion arise, Mary Ashwoode, -with her light mantle drawn around her, and the hood over her head, sat -along with her faithful companion, awaiting his return, under the -embowering shadow of the old trees. - -"Flora, I am sorely perplexed; I know not whither to go when we have -reached the city," said Mary, addressing her companion in a low tone. -"I have but one female relative residing in Dublin, and she would -believe, and think, and do, just as my brother might wish to make her. -Oh, woeful hour! that it should ever come to this--that I should fear -to trust another because she is my own brother's friend." - -She had hardly ceased to speak when a small man, with his cocked hat -set somewhat rakishly on one side, stepped forth from the little inn -door; he had just lighted his pipe, and was inhaling its smoke with -anxious attention lest the spark which he cherished should expire -before the ignition of the weed became sufficiently general; his walk -was therefore slow and interrupted; the top of his finger tenderly -moved the kindling tobacco, and his two eyes squinted with intense -absorption at the bowl of the pipe; by the time he had reached the back -of the cart in which Mary Ashwoode and her attendant were seated, his -labours were crowned by complete success, as was attested by the dense -volumes of smoke which at regular intervals he puffed forth. He carried -a cutting-whip under his arm, and was directing his steps toward a -horse which, with its bridle thrown over a gate-post, was patiently -awaiting his return. As he passed the rude vehicle in which the two -fugitives were couched, he happened to pause for a moment, and Mary -thought she recognized the figure before her as that of an old -acquaintance. - -"Is that Larry--Larry Toole?" inquired she. - -"It's myself, sure enough," rejoined that identical personage; "an' who -are you--a woman, to be sure, who else 'id be axin' for me?" - -"Larry, don't you know me?" said she. - -"Divil a taste," replied he. "I only see you're a female av coorse, why -wouldn't you, for, by the piper that played before Moses, I'm never out -of one romance till I'm into another." - -"Larry," said she, lowering her voice, "it is Miss Ashwoode who speaks -to you." - -"Don't be funnin' me, can't you?" rejoined Larry, rather pettishly. -"I've got enough iv the thricks iv women latterly; an' too much. I'm a -raal marthyr to famale mineuvers; there's a bump on my head as big as a -goose's egg, glory be to God! an' my bones is fairly aching with what -I've gone through by raison iv confidin' myself to the mercy of women. -Oh thunder----" - -"I tell you, Larry," repeated Mary, "I am, indeed, Miss Ashwoode." - -"No, but who are you, in earnest?" urged Larry Toole; "can't you put me -out iv pain at wonst; upon my sowl I don't know you from Moses this -blessed minute." - -"Well, Larry, although you cannot recognize my voice," said she, -turning back her hood so as to reveal her pale features in the -moonlight, "you have not forgotten my face." - -"Oh, blessed hour! Miss Mary," exclaimed Larry, in unfeigned amazement, -while he hurriedly thrust his pipe into his pocket, and respectfully -doffed his hat. - -"Hush, hush," said Mary, with a gesture of caution. "Put on your hat, -too; I wish to escape observation; put it on, Larry; it is my wish." - -Larry reluctantly complied. - -"Can you tell me where in town my uncle O'Leary is to be found?" -inquired she, eagerly. - -"Bedad, Miss Mary, he isn't in town at all," replied the man; "they say -he married a widdy lady about ten days ago; at any rate he's gone out -of town more than a week; I didn't hear where." - -"I know not whither to turn for help or counsel, Flora," said she, -despairingly, "my best friend is gone." - -"Well," said Larry--who, though entirely ignorant of the exact nature -of the young lady's fears, had yet quite sufficient shrewdness to -perceive that she was, indeed, involved in some emergency of -extraordinary difficulty and peril--"well, miss, maybe if you'd take a -fool's advice for once, it might turn out best," said Larry. "There's -an ould gentleman that knows all about your family; he was out at the -manor, and had a long discourse, himself and Sir Richard--God rest -him--a short time before the ould masther died; the gentleman's name is -Audley; and, though he never seen you but once, he wishes you well, and -'id go a long way to sarve you; an' above all, he's a raal rock iv -sinse. I'm not bad myself, but, begorra, I'm nothin' but a fool beside -him; now do you, Miss Mary, and the young girl that's along with you, -jist come in here; you can have a snug little room to yourselves, and -I'll go into town and have the ould gentleman out with you before you -know what you're about, or where you are; he'll ax no more than the -wind iv the word to bring him here in a brace iv shakes; and my name's -not Larry if he don't give you suparior advice." - -A slight thing determines a mind perplexed and desponding; and Mary -Ashwoode, feeling that whatever objection might well be started against -the plan proposed by Larry Toole, yet felt that, were it rejected, she -had none better to follow in its stead; anything rather than run the -risk of being placed again in her brother's keeping; there was no time -for deliberation, and therefore she at once adopted the suggestion. -Larry, accordingly, conducted them into the little inn, and consigned -them to the care of a haggard, slovenly girl, who, upon a hint from -that gentleman, conducted them to a little chamber, up a flight of -stairs, looking out upon the back yard, where, with a candle and a -scanty fire, she left the two anxious fugitives; and, as she descended, -they heard the clank of the iron shoes, as Larry spurred his horse into -a hard gallop, speeding like the wind upon his mission. - -The receding sounds of his rapid progress had, however, hardly ceased -to be heard, when the fears and anxieties which had been for a moment -forgotten, returned with heavier pressure upon the poor girl's heart, -and she every moment expected to hear the dreaded voices of her -pursuers in the passage beneath, or to see their faces entering at the -door. Thus restlessly and fearfully she awaited the return of her -courier. - - - - -CHAPTER LXII. - -THE COUNCIL--SHOWING WHAT ADVICE MR. AUDLEY GAVE, AND HOW IT WAS TAKEN. - - -Larry Toole was true to his word. Without turning from the direct -course, or pausing on his way for one moment, he accomplished the -service which he had volunteered, and in an incredibly short time -returned to the little inn, bringing Mr. Audley with him in a coach. - -With an air of importance and mystery, suitable to the occasion, the -little gentleman, followed by his attendant, proceeded to the chamber -where Miss Ashwoode and her maid were awaiting his arrival. Mary arose -as he entered the room, and Larry, from behind, ejaculated, in a tone -of pompous exultation, "Here he is, Miss Mary--Mr. Audley himself, an' -no mistake." - -"Tut, tut, Larry," exclaimed the little gentleman, turning impatiently -toward that personage, whose obstreperous announcement had disarranged -his plans of approach; "hold your tongue, Larry, I say--ahem!" - -"Mr. Audley," said Mary, "I hope you will pardon----" - -"Not one word of the kind--excuse the interruption--not a word," -exclaimed the little gentleman, gallantly waving his hand--"only too -much honour--too proud, Miss Ashwoode, I have long known something of -your family, and, strange as it may appear, have felt a peculiar -interest in you--although I had not the honour of your acquaintance--for -the sake of--of other parties. I have ever entertained a warm regard -for your welfare, and although circumstances are much, very much -changed, I cannot forget relations that once subsisted--ahem!" This was -said diplomatically, and he blew his nose with a short decisive twang. -"I understand, my poor young lady," he continued, relapsing into the -cordial manner that was natural to him, "that you are at this moment in -circumstances of difficulty, perhaps of danger, and that you have been -disappointed in this emergency by the absence of your relative, Major -O'Leary, with whose acquaintance, by-the-bye, I am honoured, and a more -worthy, warm-hearted--but no matter--in his absence, then, I venture to -tender my poor services--pray, if it be not too bold a request, tell me -fully and fairly, the nature of your embarrassment; and if zeal, -activity, and the friendliest dispositions can avail to extricate you, -you may command them all--pray, then, let me know what I _can_ do to -serve you." So saying, the old gentleman took the pale and lovely -lady's hand, with a mixture of tenderness and respect which encouraged -and assured her. - -Larry having withdrawn, she told the little gentleman all that she -could communicate, without disclosing her brother's implication in the -conspiracy. Even this reserve, the old gentleman's warm and kindly -manner, and the good-natured simplicity, apparent in all he said and -did, effectually removed, and the whole case, in all its bearings, and -with all its circumstances, was plainly put before him. During the -narrative, the little gentleman was repeatedly so transported with ire -as to slap his thigh, sniff violently, and mutter incoherent -ejaculations between his teeth; and when it was ended, was so far -overcome by his feelings, that he did not trust himself to address the -young lady, until he had a little vented his indignation by marching -and countermarching, at quick time, up and down the room, blowing his -nose with desperate abandonment, and muttering sundry startling -interjections. At length he grew composed, and addressing Mary -Ashwoode, observed,-- - -"You are quite right, my dear young lady--quite right, indeed, in -resolving against putting yourself into the hands of anybody under Sir -Henry's influence--perfectly right and wise. Have you _no_ relatives in -this country, none capable of protecting you, and willing to do so?" - -"I have, indeed, one relative," rejoined she, but----" - -"Who is it?" interrupted Audley. - -"An uncle," replied Mary. - -"His name, my dear--his name?" inquired the old gentleman, impatiently. - -"His name is French--Oliver French," replied she, "but----" - -"Never mind," interrupted Audley again, "where does he live?" - -"He lives in an old place called Ardgillagh," rejoined she, "on the -borders of the county of Limerick." - -"Is it easily found out?--near the high road from Dublin?--near any -town?--easily got at?" inquired he, with extra-ordinary volubility. - -"I've heard my brother say," rejoined she, "that it is not far from the -high road from Dublin; he was there himself. I believe the place is -well known by the peasantry for many miles round; but----" - -"Very good, very good, my dear," interposed Mr. Audley again. "Has he a -family--a wife?" - -"No," rejoined Mary; "he is unmarried, and an old man." - -"Pooh, pooh! why the devil hasn't he a wife? but no matter, you'll be -all the welcomer. That's our ground--all the safer that it's a little -out of the way," exclaimed the old man. "We'll steal a march--they'll -never suspect us; we'll start at once." - -"But I fear," said Mary, dejectedly, "that he will not receive me. -There has long been an estrangement between our family and him; with my -father he had a deadly quarrel while I was yet an infant. He vowed that -neither my father nor any child of his should ever cross his threshold. -I've been told he bitterly resented what he believed to have been my -father's harsh treatment of my mother. I was too young, however, to -know on which side the right of the quarrel was; but I fear there is -little hope of his doing as you expect, for some six or seven years -since my brother was sent down, in the hope of a reconciliation, and in -vain. He returned, reporting that my uncle Oliver had met all his -advances with scorn. No, no, I fear--I greatly fear he will not receive -me." - -"Never believe it--never think so," rejoined old Audley, warmly; "if he -were man enough to resent your mother's wrongs, think you his heart -will have no room for yours? Think you his nature's changed, that he -cannot pity the distressed, and hate tyranny any longer? Never believe -me, if he won't hug you to his heart the minute he sees you. I like the -old chap; he was right to be angry--it was his duty to be in a -confounded passion; he ought to have been kicked if he hadn't done just -as he did--I'd swear he was right. Never trust me, if he'll not take -your part with his whole heart, and make you his pet for as long as you -please to stay with him. Deuce take him, I like the old fellow." - -"You would advise me, then, to apply to him for protection?" asked Mary -Ashwoode, "and I suppose to go down there immediately." - -"Most unquestionably so," replied Mr. Audley, with a short nod of -decision--"most unquestionably--start to-night; we shall go as far as -the town of Naas; I will accompany you. I consider you my ward until -your natural protectors take you under their affectionate charge, and -guard you from grief and danger as they ought. My good girl," he -continued, addressing Flora Guy, "you must come along with your -mistress; I've a coach at the door. We shall go directly into town, and -my landlady shall take you both under her care until I have procured -two chaises, the one for myself, and the other for your mistress and -you. You will find Mrs. Pickley, my landlady, a very kind, excellent -person, and ready to assist you in making your preparations for the -journey." - -The old gentleman then led his young and beautiful charge, with a -mixture of gallantry and pity, by the hand down the little inn stairs, -and in a very brief time Mary Ashwoode and her faithful attendant found -themselves under the hospitable protection of Mrs. Pickley's roof-tree. - - - - -CHAPTER LXIII. - -PARTING--THE SHELTERED VILLAGE, AND THE JOURNEY'S END. - - -Never was little gentleman in such a fuss as Mr. Audley--never were so -many orders issued and countermanded and given again--never were Larry -Toole's energies so severely tried and his intellects so -distracted--impossible tasks and contradictory orders so "huddled on -his back," that he well nigh went mad under the burthen; at length, -however, matters were arranged, two coaches with post-horses were -brought to the door, Mary Ashwoode and her attendant were deposited in -one, along with such extempore appliances for wardrobe and toilet as -Mrs. Pickley, in a hurried excursion, was enabled to collect from the -neighbouring shops and pack up for the journey, and Mr. Audley stood -ready to take his place in the other. - -"Larry," said he, before ascending, "here are ten guineas, which will -keep you in bread and cheese until you hear from me again; don't on any -account leave the 'Cock and Anchor,' your master's horse and luggage -are there, and, no doubt, whenever he returns to Dublin, which I am -very certain must soon occur, he will go directly thither; so be you -sure to meet him there, should he happen during my absence to arrive; -and mark me, be very careful of this letter, give it him the moment you -see him, which, please God, will be very soon indeed; keep it in some -safe place--don't carry it in your breeches pocket, you blockhead, -you'll grind it to powder, booby! indeed, now that I think on't, you -had better give it at once in charge to the innkeeper of the 'Cock and -Anchor;' don't forget, on your life I charge you, and now good-night." - -"Good-night, and good luck, your honour, and may God speed you!" -ejaculated Larry, as the vehicles rumbled away. The charioteers had -received their directions, and Mary Ashwoode and her trusty companion, -confused and bewildered by the rapidity with which events had succeeded -one another during the day, and stunned by the magnitude of the dangers -which they had so narrowly escaped, found themselves, scarcely -crediting the evidence of their senses, rapidly traversing the interval -which separated Dublin city from the little town of Naas. - -It is not our intention to weary our readers with a detailed account of -the occurrences of the journey, nor to present them with a catalogue of -all the mishaps and delays to which Irish posting in those days, and -indeed much later, was liable; it is enough to state that upon the -evening of the fourth day the two carriages clattered into the wretched -little village which occupied the road on which opened the avenue -leading up to the great house of Ardgillagh. The village, though -obviously the abode of little comfort or cheerfulness, was not on that -account the less picturesque; the road wound irregularly where it -stood, and was carried by an old narrow bridge across a wayward -mountain stream which wheeled and foamed in many a sportive eddy within -its devious banks. Close by, the little mill was couched among the -sheltering trees, which, extending in irregular and scattered groups -through the village, and mingling with the stunted bushes and briars of -the hedges, were nearly met from the other side of the narrow street by -the broad branching limbs of the giant trees which skirted the wild -wooded domain of Ardgillagh. Thus occupying a sweeping curve of the -road, and embowered among the shadowy arches of the noble timber, the -little village had at first sight an air of tranquillity, seclusion, -and comfort, which made the traveller pause to contemplate its simple -attractions and to admire how it could be that a few wretched hovels -with crazy walls and thatch overgrown with weeds, thus irregularly -huddled together beneath the rude shelter of the wood, could make a -picture so pleasing to the eye and so soothing to the heart. The -vehicles were drawn up by their drivers before the door of a small -thatched building which, however, stood a whole head and shoulders -higher than the surrounding hovels, exhibiting a second storey with -three narrow windows in front, and over its doorway, from which a large -pig, under the stimulus of a broomstick, was majestically issuing, a -sign-board, the admiration of connoisseurs for miles round, presenting -a half-length portrait of the illustrious Brian Borhome, and admitted -to be a startling likeness. Before this mansion--the only one in the -place which pretended to the character of a house of public -entertainment--the post-boys drew bridle, and brought the vehicles to a -halt. Mr. Audley was upon the road in an instant, and with fussy -gallantry assisting Mary Ashwoode to descend. Their sudden arrival had -astounded the whole household--consternation and curiosity filled the -little establishment. The proprietor, who sat beneath the capacious -chimney, started to his feet, swallowing, in his surprise, a whole -potato, which he was just deliberately commencing, and by a miracle -escaped choking. The landlady dropped a pot, which she was scrubbing, -upon the back of a venerable personage who was in a stooping posture, -lighting his pipe, and inadvertently wiped her face in the pot clout; -everybody did something wrong, and nobody anything right; the dog was -kicked and the cat scalded, and in short, never was known in the little -village of Ardgillagh, within the memory of man, except when Ginckle -marched his troops through the town, such a universal hubbub as that -which welcomed the two chaises and their contents to the door of Pat -Moroney's hospitable mansion. - -Mrs. Moroney, with more lampblack upon her comely features than she was -at that moment precisely aware of, hastened to the door, which she -occupied as completely and exclusively as the corpulent specimen of -Irish royalty over her head did his proper sign-board; all the time -gazing with an admiring grin upon Mr. Audley and the lady whom he -assisted to descend; and at exceedingly short and irregular intervals, -executing sundry slight ducks, intended to testify her exuberant -satisfaction and respect, while all around and about her were thrust -the wondering visages of the less important inmates of the -establishment; many were the murmured criticisms, and many the -ejaculations of admiration and surprise, which accompanied every -movement of the party under observation. - -"Oh! but she's a fine young lady, God bless her!" said one. - -"But isn't she mighty pale, though, entirely?" observed another. - -"That's her father--the little stout gentleman; see how he houlds her -hand for fear she'd thrip comin' out. Oh! but he's a nate man!" -remarked a third. - -"An' her hand as white as milk; an' look at her fine rings," said a -fourth. - -"She's a rale lady; see the grand look of her, and the stately step, -God bless her!" said a fifth. - -"See, see; here's another comin' out; that's her sisther," remarked -another. - -"Hould your tongues, will yees?" ejaculated the landlady, jogging her -elbow at random into somebody's mouth. - -"An' see the little one taking the box in her hand," observed one. - -"Look at the tall lady, how she smiles at her, God bless her! she's a -rale good lady," remarked another. - -"An' now she's linkin' with him, and here they come, by gorra," -exclaimed a third. - -"Back with yees, an' lave the way," exclaimed Mrs. Moroney; "don't you -see the quality comin'?" - -Accordingly, with a palpitating heart, the worthy mistress of King -Brian Borhome prepared to receive her aristocratic guests. With due -state and ceremony she conducted them into the narrow chamber which, -except the kitchen, was the only public apartment in the establishment. -After due attention to his fair charge, Mr. Audley inquired of the -hostess,-- - -"Pray, my good worthy woman, are we not now within a mile or less of -the entrance into the domain of Ardgillagh?" - -"The gate's not two perches down the road, your honour," replied she; -"is it to the great house you want to go, sir?" - -"Yes, my good woman; certainly," replied he. - -"Come here, Shawneen, come, asthore!" cried she, through the half-open -door. "I'll send the little gossoon with you, your honour; he'll show -you the way, and keep the dogs off, for they all knows him up at the -great house. Here, Shawneen; this gintleman wants to be showed the way -up to the great house; and don't let the dogs near him; do you mind? He -hasn't much English," said she, turning to her guest, by way of -apology, and then conveying her directions anew in the mother tongue. - -Under the guidance of this ragged little urchin, Mr. Audley accordingly -set forth upon his adventurous excursion. - -Mrs. Moroney brought in bread, milk, eggs, and in short, the best cheer -which her limited resources could supply; and, although Mary Ashwoode -was far too anxious about the result of Mr. Audley's visit to do more -than taste the tempting bowl of new milk which was courteously placed -before her, Flora Guy, with right good will and hearty appetite, did -ample justice to the viands which the hostess provided. - -After some idle talk between herself and Flora Guy, Mrs. Moroney -observed in reply to an interrogatory from the girl,-- - -"Twenty or thirty years ago there wasn't such a fox-hunter in the -country as Mr. French; but he's this many a year ailing, and winter -after winter, it's worse and worse always he's getting, until at last -he never stirs out at all; and for the most part he keeps his bed." - -"Is anyone living with him?" inquired Flora. - -"No, none of his family," answered she; "no one at all, you may say; -there's no one does anything in his place, an' very seldom anyone sees -him except Mistress Martha and Black M'Guinness; them two has him all -to themselves; and, indeed, there's quare stories goin' about them." - - - - -CHAPTER LXIV. - -MISTRESS MARTHA AND BLACK M'GUINNESS. - - -Mr. Audley, preceded by his little ragged guide, walked thoughtfully on -his way to visit the old gentleman, of whose oddities and strange and -wayward temper the keeper of the place where they had last obtained a -relay of horses had given a marvellous and perhaps somewhat exaggerated -account. Now that he had reached the spot, and that the moment -approached which was to be the crisis of the adventure, he began to -feel far less confident of success than he had been while the issue of -his project was comparatively remote. - -They passed down the irregular street of the village, and beneath the -trees which arched overhead like the vast and airy aisles of some huge -Gothic pile, and after a short walk of some two or three hundred yards, -during which they furnished matter of interesting speculation to half -the village idlers, they reached a rude gate of great dimensions, but -which had obviously seen better days. There was no lodge or gate-house, -and Mr. Audley followed the little conductor over a stile, which -occupied the side of one of the great ivy-mantled stone piers; crossing -this, he found himself in the demesne. A broken and irregular avenue or -bridle track--for in most places it was little more--led onward over -hill and through hollow, along the undulations of the soft green sward, -and under the fantastic boughs of gnarled thorns and oaks and sylvan -birches, which in thick groups, wild and graceful as nature had placed -them, clothed the varied slopes. The rude approach which they followed -led them a wayward course over every variety of ground--now flat and -boggy, again up hill, and over the grey surface of lichen-covered -rocks--again down into deep fern-clothed hollows, and then across the -shallow, brawling stream, without bridge or appliance of any kind, but -simply through its waters, forced, as best they might, to pick their -steps upon the moss-grown stones that peeped above the clear devious -current. Thus they passed along through this wild and extensive -demesne, varied by a thousand inequalities of ground and by the -irregular grouping of the woods, which owed their picturesque -arrangement to the untutored fancies of nature herself, whose dominion -had there never known the intrusions of the axe, or the spade, or the -pruning-hook, but exulted in the unshackled indulgence of all her -wildest revelry. After a walk of more than half-an-hour's duration, -through a long vista among the trees, the grey gable of the old mansion -of Ardgillagh, with its small windows and high and massive chimney -stacks, presented itself. - -There was a depressing air of neglect and desertion about the old -place, which even the unimaginative temperament of Mr. Audley was -obliged to acknowledge. Rank weeds and grass had forced their way -through the pavement of the courtyard, and crowded in patches of -vegetation even to the very door of the house. The same was observable, -in no less a degree, in the great stable-yard, the gate of which, -unhinged, lay wide open, exhibiting a range of out-houses and stables, -which would have afforded lodging for horse and man to a whole regiment -of dragoons. Two men, one of them in livery, were loitering through the -courtyard, apparently not very well knowing what to do with themselves; -and as the visitors approached, a whole squadron of dogs, the little -ones bouncing in front with shrill alarm, and the more formidable, at a -majestic canter and with deep-mouthed note of menace, bringing up the -rear, came snarling, barking, and growling, towards the intruders at -startling speed. - -"Piper, Piper, Toby, Fan, Motheradauna, Boxer, Boxer, Toby!" screamed -the little guide, advancing a few yards before Mr. Audley, who, in -considerable uneasiness, grasped his walking cane with no small energy. -The interposition of the urchin was successful, the dogs recognized -their young friend, the angry clangour was hushed and their pace -abated, and when they reached Mr. Audley and his guide, in compliment -to the latter they suffered the little gentleman to pass on, with no -further question than a few suspicious sniffs, as they applied their -noses to the calves of that gentleman's legs. As they continued to -approach, the men in the court, now alarmed by the vociferous challenge -of the dogs, eyed the little gentleman inquisitively, for a visitor at -Ardgillagh was a thing that had not been heard of for years. As Mr. -Audley's intention became more determinate, and his design appeared -more unequivocally to apply for admission, the servant, who watched his -progress, ran by some hidden passage in the stable-yard into the -mansion and was ready to gratify his curiosity legitimately, by taking -his post in the hall in readiness to answer Mr. Audley's summons, and -to hold parley with him at the door. - -"Is Mr. French at home?" inquired Mr. Audley. - -"Ay, sir, he is at home," rejoined the man, deliberately, to allow -himself time fully to scrutinize the visitor's outward man. - -"Can I see him, pray?" asked the little gentleman. - -"Why, raly, sir, I can't exactly say," observed the man, scratching his -head. "He's upstairs in his own chamber--indeed, for that matter, he's -seldom out of it. If you'll walk into the room there, sir, I'll -inquire." - -Accordingly, Mr. Audley entered the apartment indicated and sat himself -down in the deep recess of the window to take breath. He well knew the -kind of person with whom he had to deal, previously to encountering -Oliver French in person. He had heard quite enough of Mistress Martha -and of Black M'Guinness already, to put him upon his guard, and fill -him with just suspicions as to their character and designs; he -therefore availed himself of the little interval to arrange his plans -of operation in his own mind. He had not waited long, when the door -opened, and a tall, elderly woman, with a bunch of keys at her side, -and arrayed in a rich satin dress, walked demurely into the room. There -was something unpleasant and deceitful in the expression of the -half-closed eyes and thin lips of this lady which inspired Mr. Audley -with instinctive dislike of her--an impression which was rather -heightened than otherwise by the obvious profusion with which her -sunken and sallow cheeks were tinged with rouge. This demure and -painted lady made a courtesy on seeing Mr. Audley, and in a low and -subdued tone which well accorded with her meek exterior, inquired,-- - -"You were asking for Mr. Oliver French, sir?" - -"Yes, madam," replied Mr. Audley, returning the salute with a bow as -formal; "I wish much to see him, if he could afford me half an hour's -chat." - -"Mr. French is very ill--very--very poorly, indeed," said Mistress -Martha, closing her eyes, and shaking her head. "He dislikes talking to -strangers. Are you a relative, pray, sir?" - -"Not I, madam--not at all, madam," rejoined Mr. Audley. - -A silence ensued, during which he looked out for a minute at the view -commanded by the window; and as he did so, he observed with the corner -of his eyes that the lady was studying him with a severe and searching -scrutiny. She was the first to break the silence. - -"I suppose it's about business you want to see him?" inquired she, -still looking at him with the same sharp glance. - -"Just so," rejoined Mr. Audley; "it is indeed upon business." - -"He dislikes transacting business or speaking of it himself," said she. -"He always employs his own man, Mr. M'Guinness. I'll call Mr. -M'Guinness, that you may communicate the matter to him." - -"You must excuse me," said Mr. Audley. "My instructions are to give my -message to Mr. Oliver French in person--though indeed there's no secret -in the matter. The fact is, Madam, my mission is of a kind which ought -to make me welcome. You understand me? I come here to announce a--a--an -acquisition, in short a sudden and, I believe, a most unexpected -acquisition. But perhaps I've said too much; the facts are for his own -ear solely. Such are my instructions; and you know I have no choice. -I've posted all the way from Dublin to execute the message; and between -ourselves, should he suffer this occasion to escape him, he may never -again have an opportunity of making such an addition to--but I must -hold my tongue--I'm prating against orders. In a word, madam, I'm -greatly mistaken, or it will prove the best news that has been told in -this house since its master was christened." - -He accompanied his announcement with a prodigious number of nods and -winks of huge significance, and all designed to beget the belief that -he carried in his pocket the copy of a will, or other instrument, -conveying to the said Oliver French of Ardgillagh the gold mines of -Peru, or some such trifle. - -Mistress Martha paused, looked hard at him, then reflected again. At -length she said, with the air of a woman who has made up her mind,-- - -"I dare to say, sir, it _is_ possible for you to see Mr. French. He is -a little better to-day. You'll promise not to fatigue him--but you must -first see Mr. M'Guinness. He can tell better than I whether his master -is sufficiently well to-day for an interview of the kind." - -So saying, Mrs. Martha sailed, with saint-like dignity, from the room. - -"_She_ rules the roost, I believe," said Mr. Audley within himself. "If -so, all's smooth from this forth. Here comes the gentleman, -however--and, by the laws, a very suitable co-mate for that painted -Jezebel." - -As Mr. Audley concluded this criticism, a small man, with a greasy and -dingy complexion, and in a rusty suit of black, made his appearance. - -This individual was, if possible, more subdued, meek, and -Christian-like than the lady who had just evacuated the room in his -favour. His eyes were, if possible, habitually more nearly closed; his -step was as soft and cat-like to the full; and, in a word, he was in -air, manner, gait, and expression as like his accomplice as a man can -well be to one of the other sex. - -A short explanation having passed between this person and Mr. Audley, -he retired for a few minutes to prepare his master for the visit, and -then returning, conducted the little bachelor upstairs. - - - - -CHAPTER LXV. - -THE CONFERENCE--SHOWING HOW OLIVER FRENCH BURST INTO A RAGE AND FLUNG -HIS CAP ON THE FLOOR. - - -Mr. Audley followed Black M'Guinness as we have said up the stairs, and -was, after an introductory knock at the door, ushered by him into -Oliver French's bed-room. Its arrangements were somewhat singular--a -dressing-table with all the appliances of the most elaborate -cultivation of the graces, and a huge mirror upon it, stood directly -opposite to the door; against the other wall, between the door and this -table, was placed a massive sideboard covered with plate and wine -flasks, cork-screws and cold meat, in the most admired disorder--two -large presses were also visible, one of which lay open, exhibiting -clothes, and papers, and other articles piled together in a highly -original manner--two or three very beautiful pictures hung upon the -walls. At the far end of the room stood the bed, and at one side of it -a table covered with wines and viands, and at the other, a large -iron-bound chest, with a heavy bunch of keys dangling from its lock--a -little shelf, too, occupied the wall beside the invalid, abundantly -stored with tall phials with parchment labels, and pill-boxes and -gallipots innumerable. In the bed, surrounded by the drapery of the -drawn curtains, lay, or rather sat, Oliver French himself, propped up -by the pillows: he was a corpulent man, with a generous double chin; a -good-natured grey eye twinkled under a bushy, grizzled eye-brow, and a -countenance which bore unequivocally the lines of masculine beauty, -although considerably disfigured by the traces of age, as well as of -something very like intemperance and full living: he wore a silk -night-gown and a shirt of snowy whiteness, with lace ruffles, and on -his head was a crimson velvet cap. - -Grotesque as were the arrangements of the room, there was, -nevertheless, about its occupant an air of aristocratic superiority and -ease which at once dispelled any tendency to ridicule. - -"Mr. Audley, I presume," said the invalid. - -Mr. Audley bowed. - -"Pray, sir, take a chair. M'Guinness, place a chair for Mr. Audley, -beside the table here. I am, as you see, sir," continued he, "a -confirmed valetudinarian; I suffer abominably from gout, and have not -been able to remove to my easy chair by the fire for more than a week. -I understand that you have some matters of importance to communicate to -me; but before doing so, let me request of you to take a little wine, -you can have whatever you like best--there's some Madeira at your elbow -there, which I can safely recommend, as I have just tasted it -myself--o-oh! d---- the gout--you'll excuse me, sir--a cursed twinge." - -"Very sorry to see you suffering," responded Mr. Audley--"very, indeed, -sir." - -"It sha'n't, however, prevent my doing you reason, sir," replied he, -with alacrity. "M'Guinness, two glasses. I drink, sir, to our better -acquaintance. Now, M'Guinness, you may leave the room." - -Accordingly Mr. M'Guinness withdrew, and the gentlemen were left -_tête-à-tête_. - -"And now, sir," continued Oliver French, "be so good as to open the -subject of your visit." - -Mr. Audley cleared his voice twice or thrice, in the hope of clearing -his head at the same time, and then, with some force and embarrassment, -observed,-- - -"I am necessarily obliged, Mr. French, to allude to matters which may -possibly revive unpleasant recollections. I trust, indeed, my dear -sir,--I'm sure that you will not suffer yourself to be distressed or -unduly excited, when I tell you that I must recall to your memory a -name which I believe does not sound gratefully to your ear--the name of -Ashwoode." - -"Curse them," was the energetic commentary of the invalid. - -"Well, sir, I dare venture to say that you and I are not very much at -variance in our estimate of the character of the Ashwoodes generally," -said Mr. Audley. "You are aware, I presume, that Sir Richard has been -some time dead." - -"Ha! actually _gone_ to hell?--no, sir, I was not aware of this. Pray, -proceed, sir," responded Oliver French. - -"I am aware, sir, that he treated his lady harshly," resumed Audley. - -"Harshly, _harshly_, sir," cried the old man, with an energy that well -nigh made his companion bounce from his seat--"why, sir, beginning with -neglect and ending with blows--through every stage of savage insult and -injury, his wretched wife, my sister--the most gentle, trusting, lovely -creature that ever yet was born to misery, was dragged by that inhuman -monster, her husband, Sir Richard Ashwoode; he broke her heart--he -killed her, sir--_killed_ her. She was my sister--my only sister; I was -justly proud of her--loved her most dearly, and the inhuman villain -broke her heart." - -Through his clenched teeth he uttered a malediction, and with a -vehemence of hatred which plainly showed that his feelings toward the -family had undergone no favourable change. - -"Well, sir," resumed Mr. Audley, after a considerable interval, "I -cannot wonder at the strength of your feelings in this matter, more -especially at this moment. I myself burn with indignation scarce one -degree less intense than yours against the worthy son of that most -execrable man, and upon grounds, too, very nearly similar." - -He then proceeded to recount to his auditor, waxing warm as he went on, -all the circumstances of Mary Ashwoode's sufferings, and every -particular of the grievous persecution which she had endured at the -hands of her brother, Sir Henry. Oliver French ground his teeth and -clutched the bed-clothes as he listened, and when the narrative was -ended, he whisked the velvet cap from his head, and flung it with all -his force upon the floor. - -"Oh, God Almighty! that I had but the use of my limbs," exclaimed he, -with desperation--"I would give the whole world a lesson in the person -of that despicable scoundrel. I would--but," he added bitterly, "I am -powerless--I am a cripple." - -"You are not powerless, sir, for purposes nobler than revenge," -exclaimed Audley, with eagerness; "you may shelter and protect the -helpless, friendless child of calamity, the story of whose wrongs has -so justly fired you with indignation." - -"Where is she--where?" cried Oliver French, eagerly--"I ought to have -asked you long ago." - -"She is not far away--she even now awaits your decision in the little -village hard by," responded Mr. Audley. - -"Poor child--poor child!" ejaculated Oliver, much agitated. "And did -she--could she doubt my willingness to befriend her--good God--could -she doubt it?--bring her--bring her here at once--I long to see -her--poor bird--poor bird--the world's winter has closed over thee too -soon. Alas! poor child--tell her--tell her, Mr. Audley, that I long to -see her--that she is most welcome--that all which I command is heartily -and entirely at her service. Plead my apology for not going myself to -meet her--as God knows I would fain do; you see I am a poor cripple--a -very worthless, helpless, good-for-nothing old man. Tell her all better -than I can do it now. God bless you, sir--God bless you, for believing -that such an ill-conditioned old fellow as I am had yet heart enough to -feel rightly sometimes. I had rather die a thousand deaths than that -you had not brought the poor outcast child to my roof. Tell her how -glad--how very, very happy--how proud it makes me that she should come -to her old uncle Oliver--tell her this. God bless you, sir!" - -With a cordial pressure, he gripped Audley's hand, and the old -gentleman, with a heart overflowing with exultation and delight, -retraced his steps to the little village, absolutely bursting with -impatience to communicate the triumphant result of his visit. - - - - -CHAPTER LXVI. - -THE BED-CHAMBER. - - -Black M'Guinness and Mistress Martha had listened in vain to catch the -purport of Mr. Audley's communication. Unfortunately for them, their -master's chamber was guarded by a double door, and his companion had -taken especial pains to close both of them before detailing the subject -of his visit. They were, however a good deal astonished by Mr. French's -insisting upon rising forthwith, and having himself clothed and shaved. -This huge, good-natured lump of gout was, accordingly, arrayed in full -suit--one of the handsomest which his wardrobe commanded--his velvet -cap replaced by a flowing peruke--his gouty feet smothered in endless -flannels, and himself deposited in his great easy chair by the fire, -and his lower extremities propped up upon stools and pillows. These -preparations, along with a complete re-arrangement of the furniture, -and other contents of the room, effectually perplexed and somewhat -alarmed his disinterested dependents. - -Mr. Audley returned ere the preparations were well completed, and -handed Mary Ashwoode and her attendant from the chaise. It needs not to -say how the old bachelor of Ardgillagh received her--with, perhaps, the -more warmth and tenderness that, as he protested, with tears in his -eyes, she was so like her poor mother, that he felt as if old times had -come again, and that she stood once more before him, clothed in the -melancholy beauty of her early and ill-fated youth. It were idle to -describe the overflowing kindness of the old man's greeting, and the -depth of gratitude with which his affectionate and hearty welcome was -accepted by the poor grieved girl. He would scarcely, for the whole -evening, allow her to leave him for one moment; and every now and again -renewed his pressing invitation to her and to Mr. Audley to take some -more wine or some new delicacy; he himself enforcing his solicitations -by eating and drinking in almost unbroken continuity during the whole -time. All his habits were those of the most unlimited self-indulgence; -and his chief, if not his sole recreation for years, had consisted in -compounding, during the whole day long, those astounding gastronomic -combinations, which embraced every possible variety of wine and -liqueur, of vegetable, meat, and confection; so that the fact of his -existing at all, under the extraordinary regimen which he had adopted, -was a triumph of the genius of digestion over the demon of dyspepsia, -such as this miserable world has seldom witnessed. Nevertheless, that -he did exist, and that too, apparently, in robust though unwieldy -health, with the exception of his one malady, his constitutional gout, -was a fact which nobody could look upon and dispute. With an -imperiousness which brooked no contradiction, he compelled Mr. Audley -to eat and drink very greatly more than he could conveniently -contain--browbeating the poor little gentleman into submission, and -swearing, in the most impressive manner, that he had not eaten one -ounce weight of food of any kind since his entrance into the house; -although the unhappy little gentleman felt at that moment like a boa -constrictor who has just bolted a buffalo, and pleaded in stifled -accents for quarter; but it would not do. Oliver French, Esq., had not -had his humour crossed, nor one of his fancies contradicted, for the -last forty years, and he was not now to be thwarted or put down by a -little "hop-o'-my-thumb," who, though ravenously hungry, pretended, -through mere perverseness, to be bursting with repletion. Mr. Audley's -labours were every now and again pleasingly relieved by such -applications as these from his merciless entertainer. - -"Now, my good friend--my worthy friend--will you think it too great a -liberty, sir, if I ask you to move the pillow a _leetle_ under this -foot?" - -"None in the world, sir--quite the contrary--I shall have the very -greatest possible pleasure," would poor Mr. Audley reply, preparing for -the task. - -"You are very good, sir, very kind, sir. Just draw it quietly to the -right--a little, a very little--you are very good, indeed, sir. Oh--oh, -O--oh, you--you booby--you'll excuse me, sir--gently--there, -there--gently, gently. O--oh, you d----d handless idiot--pray pardon -me, sir; that will do." - -Such passages as these were of frequent occurrence; but though Mr. -Audley was as choleric as most men at his time of life, yet the -incongruous terms of abuse were so obviously the result of inveterate -and almost unconscious habit, stimulated by the momentary twinges of -acute pain, that he did not suffer this for an instant to disturb the -serenity and goodwill with which he regarded his host, spite of all his -oddities and self-indulgence. - -In the course of the evening Oliver French ordered Mistress Martha to -have beds prepared for the party, and that lady, with rather a vicious -look, withdrew. She soon returned, and asked in her usual low, dulcet -tone, whether the young lady could spare her maid to assist in -arranging the room, and forthwith Flora Guy consigned herself to the -guidance of the sinister-looking Abigail. - -"This is a fine country, isn't it?" inquired Mistress Martha, softly, -when they were quite alone. - -"A very fine country, indeed, ma'am," rejoined Flora, who had heard -enough to inspire her with a certain awe of her conductress, which -inclined her as much as possible to assent to whatever proposition she -might be inclined to advance, without herself hazarding much original -matter. - -"It's a pity you can't see it in the summer time; this is a very fine -place indeed when all the leaves are on the trees," repeated Mistress -Martha. - -"Indeed, so I'd take it to be, ma'am," rejoined the maid. - -"Just passing through this way--hurried like, you can't notice much -about it though," remarked the elderly lady, carelessly. - -"No, ma'am," replied Flora, becoming more reserved, as she detected in -her companion a wish to draw from her all she knew of her mistress's -plans. - -"There are some views that are greatly admired in the -neighbourhood--the glen and the falls of Glashangower. If she could -stay a week she might see everything." - -"Oh! indeed, it's a lovely place," observed Flora, evasively. - -"That old gentleman, that Mr. Audley, your young mistress's father, -or--or uncle, or whatever he is"--Mistress Martha here made a -considerable pause, but Flora did not enlighten her, and she -continued--"whatever he is to her, it's no matter, he seems a very -good-humoured nice old gentleman--he's in a great hurry back to Dublin, -where he came from, I suppose." - -"Well, I really don't know," replied the girl. - -"He looks very comfortable, and everything handsome and nice about -him," observed Mistress Martha again. "I suppose he's well off--plenty -of money--not in want at all." - -"Indeed he seems all that," rejoined the maid. - -"He's cousin, or something or another, to the master, Mr. French; -didn't you tell me so?" asked the painted Abigail. - -"No, ma'am; I didn't tell you; I don't know," replied she. - -"This is a very damp old house, and full of rats; I wish I had known a -week ago that beds would be wanting; but I suppose it was a sudden -thing," said the housekeeper. - -"Indeed, I suppose it just was, ma'am," responded the attendant. - -"Are you going to stay here long?" asked the old lady, more briskly -than she had yet spoken. - -"Raly, ma'am, I don't know," replied Flora. - -The old painted termagant shot a glance at her of no pleasant meaning; -but for the present checked the impulse in which it had its birth, and -repeated softly--"You don't know; why, you are a very innocent, simple -little girl." - -"Pray, ma'am, if it's not making too bold, which is the room, ma'am?" -asked Flora. - -"What's your young lady's name?" asked the matron, directly, and -disregarding the question of the girl. - -Flora Guy hesitated. - -"Do you hear me--what's your young lady's name?" repeated the woman, -softly, but deliberately. - -"Her name, to be sure; her name is Miss Mary," replied she. - -"Mary _what_?" asked Martha. - -"Miss Mary Ashwoode," replied Flora, half afraid as she uttered it. - -Spite of all her efforts, the woman's face exhibited disagreeable -symptoms of emotion at this announcement; she bit her lips and dropped -her eyelids lower than usual, to conceal the expression which gleamed -to her eyes, while her colour shifted even through her rouge. At -length, with a smile infinitely more unpleasant than any expression -which her face had yet worn, she observed,-- - -"Ashwoode, Ashwoode. Oh! dear, to be sure; some of Sir Richard's -family; well, I did not expect to see them darken these doors again. -Dear me! who'd have thought of the Ashwoodes looking after him again? -well, well, but they're a very forgiving family," and she uttered an -ill-omened tittering. - -"Which is the room, ma'am, if you please?" repeated Flora. - -"That's the room," cried the stalwart dame, with astounding vehemence, -and at the same time opening a door and exhibiting a large neglected -bed-chamber, with its bed-clothes and other furniture lying about in -entire disorder, and no vestige of a fire in the grate; "that's the -room, miss, and make the best of it yourself, for you've nothing else -to do." - -In this very uncomfortable predicament Flora Guy applied herself -energetically to reduce the room to something like order, and although -it was very cold and not a little damp, she succeeded, nevertheless, in -giving it an air of tolerable comfort by the time her young mistress -was prepared to retire to it. - -As soon as Mary Ashwoode had entered this chamber her maid proceeded to -narrate the occurrences which had just taken place. - -"Well, Flora," said she, smiling, "I hope the old lady will resume her -good temper by to-morrow, for one night I can easily contrive to rest -with such appliances as we have. I am more sorry, for your sake, my -poor girl, than for mine, however, and wherever I lay me down, my rest -will be, I fear me, very nearly alike." - -"She's the darkest, ill-lookingest old woman, God bless us, that ever I -set my two good-looking eyes upon, my lady," said Flora. "I'll put a -table to the door; for, to tell God's truth, I'm half afeard of her. -She has a nasty look in her, my lady--a bad look entirely." - -Flora had hardly spoken when the door opened, and the subject of their -conversation entered. - -"Good evening to you, Miss Ashwoode," said she, advancing close to the -young lady, and speaking in her usual low soft tone. "I hope you find -everything to your liking. I suppose your own maid has settled -everything according to your fancy. Of course, she knows best how to -please you. I'm very delighted to see you here in Ardgillagh, as I was -telling your innocent maid there--very glad, indeed; because, as I -said, it shows how forgiving you are, after all the master has said and -done, and the way he has always spit on every one of your family that -ever came here looking after his money--though, indeed, I'm sure you're -a great deal too good and too religious to care about money; and I'm -sure and certain it's only for the sake of Christian charity, and out -of a forgiving disposition, and to show that there isn't a bit of pride -of any sort, or kind, or description in your carcase--that you're come -here to make yourself at home in this house, that never belonged to -you, and that never will, and to beg favours of the gentleman that -hates, and despises, and insults everyone that carries your name--so -that the very dogs in the streets would not lick their blood. I like -that, Miss Ashwoode--I _do_ like it," she continued, advancing a little -nearer; "for it shows you don't care what bad people may say or think, -provided you do your Christian duty. They may say you're come here to -try and get the old gentleman's money; they may say that you're eaten -up to the very backbone with meanness, and that you'd bear to be kicked -and spit upon from one year's end to the other for the sake of a few -pounds--they'll call you a sycophant and a schemer--but you don't mind -that--and I admire you for it--they'll say, miss--for they don't -scruple at anything--they'll say you lost your character and fortune in -Dublin, and came down here in the hope of finding them again; but I -tell you what it is," she continued, giving full vent to her fury, and -raising her accents to a tone more resembling the scream of a -screech-owl than the voice of a human being, "I know what you're at, -and I'll blow your schemes, Miss Innocence. I'll make the house too hot -to hold you. Do you think I mind the old bed-ridden cripple, or anyone -else within its four walls? Hoo! I'd make no more of them or of you -than that old glass there;" and so saying, she hurled the candlestick, -with all her force, against the large mirror which depended from the -wall, and dashed it to atoms. - -"Hoo! hoo!" she screamed, "you think I am afraid to do what I -threatened; but wait--wait, I say; and now good-night to you, Miss -Ashwoode, for the first time, and pleasant dreams to you." - -So saying, the fiendish hag, actually quivering with fury, quitted the -room, drawing the door after her with a stunning crash, and leaving -Mary Ashwoode and her servant breathless with astonishment and -consternation. - - - - -CHAPTER LXVII. - -THE EXPULSION. - - -While this scene was going on in Mary Ashwoode's chamber, our friend -Oliver French, having wished Mr. Audley good-night, had summoned to his -presence his confidential servant, Mr. M'Guinness. The corpulent -invalid sat in his capacious chair by the fireside, with his muffled -legs extended upon a pile of pillows, a table loaded with the materials -of his protracted and omnigenous repast at his side. Black M'Guinness -made his appearance, evidently a little intoxicated, and not a little -excited. He proceeded in a serpentine course through the chamber, -overturning, of malice prepense, everything in which he came in -contact. - -"What the devil ails you, sir?" ejaculated Mr. French--"what the plague -do you mean? D--n you, M'Guinness, you're drunk, sir, or mad." - -"Ay, to be sure," ejaculated M'Guinness, grimly. "Why not--oh, do--I've -no objection; d----n away, sir, pray, do." - -"What do you mean by talking that way, you scoundrel?" exclaimed old -French. - -"Scoundrel!" repeated M'Guinness, overturning a small table, and all -thereupon, with a crash upon the floor, and approaching the old -gentleman, while his ugly face grew to a sickly, tallowy white with -rage, "you go for to bring a whole lot of beggarly squatters into the -house to make away with your substance, and to turn you against your -faithful, tried, trusty, and dutiful servants," he continued, shaking -his fist in his master's face. "You do, and to leave them, ten to one, -in their old days unprovided for. Damn ingratitude!--to the devil with -thankless, unnatural vermin! You call me scoundrel. Scoundrel was the -word--by this cross it was." - -While Oliver French, speechless with astonishment and rage, gazed upon -the audacious menial, Mistress Martha herself entered the chamber. - -"Yes, they are, you old dark-hearted hypocrite--they're settled -here--fixed in the house--they are," screamed she; "but they _sha'n't_ -stay long; or, if they do, I'll not leave a whole bone in their skins. -What did _they_ ever do for you, you thankless wretch?" - -"Ay, what did they ever do for you?" shouted M'Guinness. - -"Do you think we're fools--do you? and idiots--do you? not to know what -you're at, you ungrateful miscreant! Turn them out, bag and -baggage--every mother's skin of them, or I'll show them the reason why, -turn them out, I say." - -"You infernal hag, I'd see you in hell or Bedlam first," shouted -Oliver, transported with fury. "You have had your way too long, you -accursed witch--you have." - -"Never mind--oh!--you wretch," shrieked she--"never mind--wait a -bit--and never fear, you old crippled sinner, I'll be revenged on you, -you old devil's limb. Here's your watch for you," screamed she, -snatching a massive, chased gold watch from her side, and hurling it at -his head. It passed close by his ear, and struck the floor behind him, -attesting the force with which it had been thrown, as well as the -solidity of its workmanship, by a deep mark ploughed in the floor. - -Oliver French grasped his crutch and raised it threateningly. - -"You old wretch, I'll not let you strike the woman," cried M'Guinness, -snatching the poker, and preparing to dash it at the old man's head. -What might have been the issue of the strife it were hard to say, had -not Mr. Audley at that moment entered the room. - -"Heyday!" cried that gentleman, "I thought it had been robbers--what's -all this?" - -M'Guinness turned upon him, but observing that he carried a pistol in -each hand, he contented himself with muttering a curse and lowering the -poker which he held in his hand. - -"Why, what the devil--your own servants--your own man and woman!" -exclaimed Mr. Audley. "I beg your pardon, sir--pray excuse me, Mr. -French; perhaps I ought not to have intruded upon you." - -"Pray don't go, Mr. Audley--don't think of going," said Oliver, -eagerly, observing that his visitor was drawing to the door. "These -beasts will murder me if you leave me; I can't help myself--do stay." - -"Pray, madam, you are the amiable and remarkably quiet gentlewoman with -whom I was to-day honoured by an interview? God bless my body and soul, -can it possibly be?" said Mr. Audley, addressing himself to the lady. - -"You vile old swindling schemer," shrieked she, returning--"you -skulking, mean dog--you brandy-faced old reprobate, you--hoo! wait, -wait--wait awhile; I'll master you yet--just wait--never mind--hoo!" -and with something like an Indian war-whoop she dashed out of the room. - -"Get out of this apartment, you ruffian, you--M'Guinness, get out of -the room," cried old French, addressing the fellow, who still stood -grinning and growling there. - -"No, I'll not till I do my business," retorted the man, doggedly; "I'll -put you to bed first. I've a right to do my own business; I'll undress -you and put you to bed first--bellows me, but I will." - -"Mr. Audley, I beg pardon for troubling you," said Oliver, "but will -you pull the bell if you please, like the very devil." - -"Pull away till you are black in the face; _I'll_ not stir," retorted -M'Guinness. - -Mr. Audley pulled the bell with a sustained vehemence which it put Mr. -French into a perspiration even to witness. - -"Pull away, old gentleman--you may pull till you burst--to the devil -with you all. I'll not stir a peg till I choose it myself; I'll do my -business what I was hired for; there's no treason in that. D---- me, if -I stir a peg for you," repeated M'Guinness, doggedly. - -Meanwhile, two half-dressed, scared-looking servants, alarmed by Mr. -Audley's persevering appeals, showed themselves at the door. - -"Thomas--Martin--come in here, you pair of boobies," exclaimed French, -authoritatively; "Martin, do you keep an eye on that scoundrel, and -Thomas, run you down and waken the post-boy and tell him to put his -horses to, and do you assist him, sir, away!" - -With unqualified amazement in their faces, the men proceeded to obey -their orders. - -"So, so," said Oliver, still out of breath with anger, "matters are -come to a pleasant pass, I'm to be brained with my own poker--by my own -servant--in my own house--very pleasant, because forsooth, I dare to do -what I please with my own--highly agreeable, truly! Mr. Audley, may I -trouble you to give me a glass of noyeau--let me recommend that to you, -Mr. Audley, it has the true flavour--nay, nay--I'll hear of no -excuse--I'm absolute in my own room at least--come, my dear sir--I -implore--I insist--nay, I command; come--come--a bumper; very good -health, sir; a pleasant pair of furies!--just give me the legs of that -woodcock while we are waiting." - -Accordingly Mr. Oliver French filled up the brief interval after his -usual fashion, by adding slightly to the contents of his stomach, and -in a little time the servant whom he had dispatched downward, returned -with the post-boy in person. - -"Are your horses under the coach, my good lad?" inquired old French. - -"No, but they're to it, and that's better," responded the charioteer. - -"You'll not have far to go--only to the little village at the end of -the avenue," said Mr. French. "Mr. Audley, may I trouble you to fill a -large glass of Creme de Portugal; thank you; now, my good lad, take -that," continued he, delighted at an opportunity of indulging his -passion for ministering to the stomach of a fellow mortal, "take -it--take it--every drop--good--now Martin, do you and Thomas find that -termagant--fury--Martha Montgomery, and conduct her to the coach--carry -her down if necessary--put her into it, and one of you remain with her, -to prevent her getting out again, and let the other return, and with my -friend the post-boy, do a like good office by my honest comrade Mr. -M'Guinness--mind you go along with them to the village, and let them be -set down at Moroney's public-house; everything belonging to them shall -be sent down to-morrow morning, and if you ever catch either of them -about the place--duck them--whip them--set the dogs on them--that's -all." - -Shrieking as though body and soul were parting, Mrs. Martha was -half-carried, half-dragged from the scene of her long-abused authority; -screaming her threats, curses, and abuse in volleys, she was deposited -safely in the vehicle, and guarded by the footman--who in secret -rejoiced in common with all the rest of the household at the disgrace -of the two insolent favourites--and was forced to sit therein until her -companion in misfortune being placed at her side, they were both, under -a like escort, safely deposited at the door of the little public-house, -scarcely crediting the evidence of their senses for the reality of -their situation. - - -Henceforward Ardgillagh was a tranquil place, and day after day old -Oliver French grew to love the gentle creature, whom a chance wind had -thus carried to his door, more and more fondly. There was an -artlessness and a warmth of affection, and a kindliness about her, -which all, from the master down to the humblest servant, felt and -loved; a grace, and dignity, and a simple beauty in every look and -action, which none could see and not admire. The strange old man, whose -humour had never brooked contradiction, felt for her, he knew not why, -a tenderness and respect such as he never before believed a mortal -creature could inspire; her gentle wish was law to him; to see her -sweet face was his greatest joy--to please her his first ambition; she -grew to be, as it were, his idol. - -It was her chief delight to ramble unattended through the fine old -place. Often, with her faithful follower, Flora Guy, she would visit -the humble dwellings of the poor, wherever grief or sickness was, and -with gentle words of comfort and bounteous pity, cheer and relieve. But -still, from week to week it became too mournfully plain that the sweet, -sad face was growing paler and ever paler, and the graceful form more -delicately slight. In the silent watches of the night often would Flora -Guy hear her loved young mistress weep on for hours, as though her -heart were breaking; yet from her lips there never fell at any time one -word of murmuring, nor any save those of gentle kindness; and often -would she sit by the casement and reverently read the pages of one old -volume, and think and read again, while ever and anon the silent tears, -gathering on the long, dark lashes, would fall one by one upon the -leaf, and then would she rise with such a smile of heavenly comfort -breaking through her tears, that peace, and hope, and glory seemed -beaming in her pale angelic face. - -Thus from day to day, in the old mansion of Ardgillagh, did she, whose -beauty none, even the most stoical, had ever seen unmoved--whose -artless graces and perfections all who had ever beheld her had thought -unmatched, fade slowly and uncomplainingly, but with beauty if possible -enhanced, before the eyes of those who loved her; yet they hoped on, -and strongly hoped--why should they not? She was young--yes, very -young, and why should the young die in the glad season of their early -bloom? - -Mr. Audley became a wondrous favourite with his eccentric entertainer, -who would not hear of his fixing a time for his departure, but partly -by entreaties, partly by bullying, managed to induce him to prolong his -stay from week to week. These concessions were not, however, made -without corresponding conditions imposed by the consenting party, among -the foremost of which was the express stipulation that he should not be -expected, nor by cajolery nor menaces induced or compelled, to eat or -drink at all more than he himself felt prompted by the cravings of his -natural appetite to do. The old gentlemen had much in common upon which -to exercise their sympathies; they were both staunch Tories, both -admirable judges of claret, and no less both extraordinary proficients -in the delectable pastimes of backgammon and draughts, whereat, when -other resources failed, they played with uncommon industry and -perseverance, and sometimes indulged in slight ebullitions of -acrimonious feeling, scarcely exhibited, however, before they were -atoned for by fervent apologies and vehement vows of good behaviour for -the future. - -Leaving this little party to the quiet seclusion of Ardgillagh, it -becomes now our duty to return for a time to very different scenes and -other personages. - - - - -CHAPTER LXVIII. - -THE FRAY. - - -It now becomes our duty to return for a short time to Sir Henry -Ashwoode and Nicholas Blarden, whom we left in hot pursuit of the -trembling fugitives. The night was consumed in vain but restless -search, and yet no satisfactory clue to the direction of their flight -had been discovered; no evidence, not even a hint, by which to guide -their pursuit. Jaded by his fruitless exertions, frantic with rage and -disappointment, Nicholas Blarden at peep of light rode up to the hall -door of Morley Court. - -"No news since?" cried he, fixing his bloodshot eyes upon the man who -took his horse's bridle, "no news since?" - -"No, sir," cried the fellow, shaking his head, "not a word." - -"Is Sir Henry within?" inquired Blarden, throwing himself from the -saddle. - -"No, sir," replied the man. - -"Not returned yet, eh?" asked Nicholas. - -"Yes, sir, he did return, and he left again about ten minutes ago," -responded the groom. - -"And left no message for me, eh?" rejoined Blarden. - -"There's a note, sir, on a scrap of paper, on the table in the hall, I -forgot to mention," replied the man--"he wrote it in a hurry, with a -pencil, sir." - -Blarden strode into the hall, and easily discovered the document--a -hurried scrawl, scarcely legible; it ran as follows:-- - - "Nothing yet--no trace--I half suspect they're lurking in the - neighbourhood of the house. I must return to town--there are two - places which I forgot to try. Meet me, if you can--say in the old - Saint Columbkil; it's a deserted place, in the morning about ten or - eleven o'clock. - - "HENRY ASHWOODE." - -Blarden glanced quickly through this effusion. - -"A precious piece of paper, that!" muttered he, tearing it across, -"worthy of its author--a cursed greenhorn; consume him for a _mouth_, -but no matter--no matter yet. Here, you rake-helly squad, some of you," -shouted he, addressing himself at random to the servants, one of whom -he heard approaching, "here, I say, get me some food and drink, and -don't be long about it either, I can scarce stand." So saying, and -satisfied that his directions would be promptly attended to, he -shambled into one of the sitting-rooms, and flung himself at his full -length upon a sofa; his disordered and bespattered dress and -mud-stained boots contrasted agreeably with the rich crimson damask and -gilded backs and arms of the couch on which he lay. As he applied -himself voraciously to the solid fare and the wines with which he was -speedily supplied, a thousand incoherent schemes, and none of them of -the most amiable kind, busily engaged his thoughts. After many -wandering speculations, he returned again to a subject which had more -than once already presented itself. "And then for the brother, the -fellow that laid his blows on me before a whole play-house full of -people, the vile spawn of insolent beggary, that struck me till his arm -was fairly tired with striking--I'm no fool to forget such things--the -rascally forging ruffian--the mean, swaggering, lying bully--no -matter--he must be served out in style, and so he shall. I'll not hang -him though, I may turn him to account yet, some way or other--no, I'll -not hang him, keep the halter in my hand--the best trump for the last -card--hold the gallows over him, and make him lead a pleasant sort of -life of it, one way or other. I'll not leave a spark of pride in his -body I'll not thrash out of him. I'll make him meeker and sleeker and -humbler than a spaniel; he shall, before the face of all the world, -just bear what I give him, and do what I bid him, like a trained -dog--sink me, but he shall." - -Somewhat comforted by these ruminations, Nicholas Blarden arose from a -substantial meal, and a reverie, which had occupied some hours; and -without caring to remove from his person the traces of his toilsome -exertions of the night past, nor otherwise to render himself one whit a -less slovenly and neglected-looking figure than when he had that -morning dismounted at the hall door, he called for a fresh horse, threw -himself into the saddle, and spurred away for Dublin city. - -He reached the doorway of the old Saint Columbkil, and, under the -shadow of its ancient sign-board, dismounted. He entered the tavern, -but Ashwoode was not there; and, in answer to his inquiries, Mr. -Blarden was informed that Sir Henry Ashwoode had gone over to the "Cock -and Anchor," to have his horse cared for, and that he was momentarily -expected back. - -Blarden consulted his huge gold watch. "It's eleven o'clock now, every -minute of it, and he's not come--hoity toity rather, I should say, all -things considered. I thought he was better up to his game by this -time--but no matter--I'll give him a lesson just now." - -As if for the express purpose of further irritating Mr. Blarden's -already by no means angelic temper, several parties, composed of -second-rate sporting characters, all laughing, swearing, joking, -betting, whistling, and by every device, contriving together to produce -as much clatter and uproar as it was possible to do, successively -entered the place. - -"Well, Nicky, boy, how does the world wag with you?" inquired a dapper -little fellow, approaching Blarden with a kind of brisk, hopping gait, -and coaxingly digging that gentleman's ribs with the butt of his -silver-mounted whip. - -"What the devil brings all these chaps here at this hour?" inquired -Blarden. - -"Soft is your horn, old boy," rejoined his acquaintance, in the same -arch strain of pleasantry; "two regular good mains to be fought -to-day--tough ones, I promise you--Fermanagh Dick against Long -White--fifty birds each--splendid fowls, I'm told--great betting--it -will come off in little more than an hour." - -"I don't care if it never comes off," rejoined Blarden; "I'm waiting -for a chap that ought to have been here half an hour ago. Rot him, I'm -sick waiting." - -"Well, come, I'll tell you how we'll pass the time. I'll toss you for -guineas, as many tosses as you like," rejoined the small gentleman, -accommodatingly. "What do you say--is it a go?" - -"Sit down, then," replied Blarden; "sit down, can't you? and begin." - -Accordingly the two friends proceeded to recreate themselves thus -pleasantly. Mr. Blarden's luck was decidedly bad, and he had been -already "physicked," as his companion playfully remarked, to the amount -of some five-and-twenty guineas, and his temper had become in a -corresponding degree affected, when he observed Sir Henry Ashwoode, -jaded, haggard, and with dress disordered, approaching the place where -he sat. - -"Blarden, we had better leave this place," said Ashwoode, glancing -round at the crowded benches; "there's too much noise here. What say -you?" - -"What do I say?" rejoined Blarden, in his very loudest and most -insolent tone--"I say you have made an appointment and broke it, so -stand there till it's my convenience to talk to you--that's all." - -Ashwoode felt his blood tingling in his veins with fury as he observed -the sneering significant faces of those who, attracted by the loud -tones of Nicholas Blarden, watched the effect of his insolence upon its -object. He heard conversations subside into whispers and titters among -the low scoundrels who enjoyed his humiliation; yet he dared not answer -Blarden as he would have given worlds at that moment to have done, and -with the extremest difficulty restrained himself from rushing among the -vile rabble who exulted in his degradation, and compelling _them_ at -least to respect and fear him. While he stood thus with compressed lips -and a face pale as ashes with rage, irresolute what course to take, one -of the coins for which Blarden played rolled along the table, and -thence along the floor for some distance. - -"Go, fetch that guinea--jump, will you?" cried Blarden, in the same -boisterous and intentionally insolent tone. "What are you standing -there for, like a stick? Pick it up, sir." - -Ashwoode did not move, and an universal titter ran round the -spectators, whose attention was now effectually enlisted. - -"Do what I order you--do it this moment. D---- your audacity, you had -better do it," said Blarden, dashing his clenched fist on the table so -as to make the coin thereon jump and jingle. - -Still Ashwoode remained resolutely fixed, trembling in every joint with -very passion; prudence told him that he ought to leave the place -instantly, but pride and obstinacy, or his evil angel, held him there. - -The sneering whispers of the crowd, who now pressed more nearly round -them in the hope of some amusement, became more and more loud and -distinct, and the words, "white feather," "white liver," "muff," "cur," -and other terms of a like import reached Ashwoode's ear. Furious at the -contumacy of his wretched slave, and determined to overbear and humble -him, Blarden exclaimed in a tone of ferocious menace,-- - -"Do as I bid you, you cursed, insolent upstart--pick up that coin, and -give it to me--or by the laws, you'll shake for it." - -Still Ashwoode moved not. - -"Do as I bid you, you robbing swindler," shouted he, with an oath too -appalling for our pages, and again rising, and stamping on the floor, -"or I'll give you to the crows." - -The titter which followed this menace was unexpectedly interrupted. The -young man's aspect changed; the blood rushed in livid streams to his -face; his dark eyes blazed with deadly fire; and, like the bursting of -a storm, all the gathering rage and vengeance of weeks in one -tremendous moment found vent. With a spring like that of a tiger, he -rushed upon his persecutor, and before the astonished spectators could -interfere, he had planted his clenched fists dozens of times, with -furious strength, in Blarden's face. Utterly destitute of personal -courage, the wretch, though incomparably a more powerful man than his -light-limbed antagonist, shrank back, stunned and affrighted, under the -shower of blows, and stumbled and fell over a wooden stool. With -murderous resolution, Ashwoode instantly drew his sword, and another -moment would have witnessed the last of Blarden's life, had not several -persons thrown themselves between that person and his frantic -assailant. - -"Hold back," cried one. "The man's down--don't murder him." - -"Down with him--he's mad!" cried another; "brain him with the stool." - -"Hold his arm, some of you, or he'll murder the man!" shouted a third, -"hold him, will you?" - -Overpowered by numbers, with his face lacerated and his clothes torn, -and his naked sword still in his hand, Ashwoode struggled and foamed, -and actually howled, to reach his abhorred enemy--glaring like a -baffled beast upon his prey. - -"Send for constables, quick--_quick_, I say," shouted Blarden, with a -frantic imprecation, his face all bleeding under his recent discipline. - -"Let me go--let me go, I tell you, or by the father that made me, I'll -send my sword through half-a-dozen of you," almost shrieked Ashwoode. - -"Hold him--hold him fast--consume you, hold him back!" shouted Blarden; -"he's a forger!--run for constables!" - -Several did run in various directions for peace officers. - -"Wring the sword from his hand, why don't you?" cried one; "cut it out -of his hand with a knife!" - -"Knock him down!--down with him! Hold on!" - -Amid such exclamations, Ashwoode at length succeeded, by several -desperate efforts, in extricating himself from those who held him; and -without hat, and with clothes rent to fragments in the scuffle, and his -face and hands all torn and bleeding, still carrying his naked sword in -his hand, he rushed from the room, and, followed at a respectable -distance by several of those who had witnessed the scuffle, and by his -distracted appearance attracting the wondering gaze of those who -traversed the streets, he ran recklessly onward to the "Cock and -Anchor." - - - - -CHAPTER LXIX. - -THE BOLTED WINDOW. - - -Followed at some distance by a wondering crowd, he entered the -inn-yard, where, for the first time, he checked his flight, and -returned his sword to the scabbard. - -"Here, ostler, groom--quickly, here!" cried Ashwoode. "In the devil's -name, where are you?" - -The ostler presented himself, gazing in unfeigned astonishment at the -distracted, pale, and bleeding figure before him. - -"Where have you put my horse?" said Ashwoode. - -"The boy's whisping him down in the back stable, your honour," replied -he. - -"Have him saddled and bridled in three seconds," said Ashwoode, -striding before the man towards the place indicated. "I'll make it -worth your while. My life--my _life_ depends on it!" - -"Never fear," said the fellow, quickening his pace, "may I never buckle -a strap if I don't." - -With these words, they entered the stable together, but the horse was -not there. - -"Confound them, they brought him to the dark stable, I suppose," said -the groom, impatiently. "Come along, sir." - -"'Sdeath! it will be too late! Quick!--quick, man!--in the fiend's -name, be quick!" said Ashwoode, glaring fearfully towards the entrance -to the inn-yard. - -Their visit to the second stable was not more satisfactory. - -"Where the devil's Sir Henry Ashwoode's horse?" inquired the groom, -addressing a fellow who was seated on an oat-bin, drumming listlessly -with his heels upon its sides, and smoking a pipe the while--"where's -the horse?" repeated he. - -The man first satisfied his curiosity by a leisurely view of Ashwoode's -disordered dress and person, and then removed his pipe deliberately -from his mouth, and spat upon the ground. - -"Where's Sir Henry's horse?" he repeated. "Why, Jim took him out a -quarter of an hour ago, walking down towards the Poddle there. I'm -thinking he'll be back soon now." - -"Saddle a horse--any horse--only let him be sure and fleet," cried -Ashwoode, "and I'll pay you his price thrice over!" - -"Well, it's a bargain," replied the groom, promptly; "I don't like to -see a gentleman caught in a hobble, if I can help him out of it. Take -my advice, though, and duck your head under the water in the trough -there; your face is full of blood and dust, and couldn't but be noticed -wherever you went." - -While the groom was with marvellous celerity preparing the horse which -he selected for the young man's service, Ashwoode, seeing the -reasonableness of his advice, ran to the large trough full of water -which stood before the pump in the inn-yard; but as he reached it, he -perceived the entrance of some four or five persons into the little -quadrangle whom, at a glance, he discovered to be constables. - -"That's him--he's our bird! After him!--there he goes!" cried several -voices. - -Ashwoode sprang up the stairs of the gallery which, as in most old -inns, overhung the yard. He ran along it, and rushed into the first -passage which opened from it. This he traversed with his utmost speed, -and reached a chamber door. It was fastened; but hurling himself -against it with his whole weight, he burst it open, the hoarse voices -of his pursuers, and their heavy tread, ringing in his ears. He ran -directly to the casement; it looked out upon a narrow by-lane. He -strove to open it, that he might leap down upon the pavement, but it -resisted his efforts; and, driven to bay, and hearing the steps at the -very door of the chamber, he turned about and drew his sword. - - [Illustration: "Driven to bay ... he drew his sword." - _To face page 338._] - -"Come, no sparring," cried the foremost, a huge fellow in a great coat, -and with a bludgeon in his hand; "give in quietly; you're regularly -caged." - -As the fellow advanced, Ashwoode met him with a thrust of his sword. -The constable partly threw it up with his hand, but it entered the -fleshy part of his arm, and came out near his shoulder blade. - -"Murder! murder!--help! help!" shouted the man, staggering back, while -two or three more of his companions thrust themselves in at the door. - -Ashwoode had hardly disengaged his sword, when a tremendous blow upon -the knuckles with a bludgeon dashed it from his grasp, and almost at -the same instant, he received a second blow upon the head, which felled -him to the ground, insensible, and weltering in blood, the execrations -and uproar of his assailants still ringing in his ears. - -"Lift him on the bed. Pull off his cravat. By the hoky, he's done for. -Devil a kick in him. Open his vest. Are you hurted, Crotty? Get some -water and spirits, some of yees, an' a towel. Begorra, we just nicked -him. He's an active chap. See, he's opening his mouth and his eyes. -Hould him, Teague, for he's the devil's bird. Never mind it, Crotty. -Devil a fear of you. Tear open the shirt. Bedad, it was close shaving. -Give him a drop iv the brandy. Never a fear of you, old bulldog." - -These and such broken sentences from fifty voices filled the little -chamber where Ashwoode lay in dull and ghastly insensibility after his -recent deadly struggle, while some stuped the wounds of the combatants -with spirits and water, and others applied the same medicaments to -their own interiors, and all talked loud and fast together, as men are -apt to do after scenes of excitement. - - -We need not follow Ashwoode through the dreadful preliminaries which -terminated in his trial. In vain did he implore an interview with -Nicholas Blarden, his relentless prosecutor. It were needless to enter -into the evidence for the prosecution, and that for the defence, -together with the points made arguments, and advanced by the opposing -counsel; it is enough to know that the case was conducted with much -ability on both sides, and that the jury, having deliberated for more -than an hour, at length found the verdict which we shall just now -state. A baronet in the dock was too novel an exhibition to fail in -drawing a full attendance, and the consequence was, that never was -known such a crowd of human beings in a compass so small as that which -packed the court-house upon this memorable occasion. - -Throughout the whole proceedings, Sir Henry Ashwoode, though deadly -pale, conducted himself with singular coolness and self-possession, -frequently suggesting questions to his counsel, and watching the -proceedings apparently with a mind as disengaged from every agitating -consciousness of personal danger as that of any of the indifferent but -curious bystanders who looked on. He was handsomely dressed, and in his -degraded and awful situation preserved, nevertheless, in his outward -mien and attire, the dignity of his rank and former pretensions. As is -invariably the case in Ireland, popular sympathy moved strongly in -favour of the prisoner, a feeling of interest which the grace, beauty, -and evident youth of the accused, as well as his high rank--for the -Irish have ever been an aristocratic race--served much to enhance; and -when the case closed, and the jury retired after an adverse charge from -the learned judge, to consider their verdict, perhaps Ashwoode himself -would have seemed, to the careless observer, the least interested in -the result of all who were assembled in that densely crowded place, to -hear the final adjudication of the law. Those, however, who watched him -more narrowly could observe, in this dreadful interval, that he raised -his handkerchief often to his face, keeping it almost constantly at his -mouth to conceal the nervous twitching of the muscles which he could -not control. The eyes of the eager multitude wandered from the prisoner -to the jury-box, and thence to the impassive parchment countenance of -the old ermined effigy who presided at the harrowing scene, and not one -ventured to speak above his breath. At length, a sound was heard at the -door of the jury-box--the jury was returning. A buzz ran through the -court, and then the prolonged "hish," enjoining silence, while one by -one the jurors entered and resumed their places in the box. The verdict -was--Guilty. - -In reply to the usual interrogatory from the officer of the court, Sir -Henry Ashwoode spoke, and though many there were moved, even to sobs -and tears, yet his manner had recovered its grace and collectedness, -and his voice was unbroken and musical as when it was wont to charm all -hearers in the gay saloons of fashion, and splendour, and heedless -folly, in other times--when he, blasted and ruined as he stood there, -was the admired and courted favourite of the great and gay. - -"My lord," said he, "I have nothing to urge which, in the strict -requirements of the law, avails to abate the solemn sentence which you -are about to pronounce--for my life I care not--something is, however, -due to my character and the name I bear--a name, my lord, never, never -except on this day, never clouded by the shadow of dishonour--a name -which will yet, after I am dead and gone, be surely and entirely -vindicated; vindicated, my lord, in the entire dispersion of the foul -imputations and fatal contrivances under which my fame is darkened and -my life is taken. Far am I from impeaching the verdict that I have just -heard. I will not arraign the jurymen, nor lay to _their_ charge that I -am this day wrongfully condemned, but to the charge of those who, on -that witness table, have sworn my life away--perjurers procured for -money, whose exposure I leave to time, and whose punishment to God. -Knowing that although my body shall ignominiously perish, and though my -fame be tarnished for an hour, yet shall truth and years, with -irresistible power, bring my innocence to light--rescue my character -and restore the name I bear. He who stands in the shadow of death, as I -do, has little to fear in human censure, and little to gather from the -applause of men. My life is forfeited, and I must soon go into the -presence of my Creator, to receive my everlasting doom; and in presence -of that almighty and terrible God before whom I must soon stand, and as -I look for mercy when He shall judge me, I declare, that of this crime, -of which I am pronounced guilty, I am altogether innocent. I am a -victim of a conspiracy, the motives of which my defence hath truly -showed you. I never committed the crime for which I am to suffer. I -repeat that I am innocent, and in witness of the truth of what I say, I -appeal to my Maker and my Judge, the Eternal and Almighty God." - -Having thus spoken, Ashwoode received his sentence, and was forthwith -removed to the condemned cell. - -Ashwoode had many and influential friends, and it required but a small -exercise of their good offices to procure a reprieve. He would not -suffer himself to despond--no, nor for one moment to doubt his final -escape from the fangs of justice. He was first reprieved for a -fortnight, and before that term expired again for six weeks. In the -course of the latter term, however, an event occurred which fearfully -altered his chances of escape, and filled his mind with the justest and -most dreadful apprehensions. This was the recall of Wharton from the -viceroyalty of Ireland. - -The new lord-lieutenant could not see, in the case of the young Whig -baronet, the same extenuating circumstances which had wrought so -effectually upon his predecessor, Wharton. The judge who had tried the -case refused to recommend the prisoner to the mercy of the Crown; and -the viceroy accordingly, in his turn, refused to entertain any -application for the commutation or further suspension of his sentence; -and now, for the first time, Sir Henry Ashwoode felt the tremendous -reality of his situation. The term for which he was reprieved had -nearly expired, and he felt that the hours which separated him from the -deadly offices of the hangman were numbered. Still, in this dreadful -consciousness, there mingled some faint and flickering ray of hope--by -its uncertain mockery rendering the terrors of his situation but the -more intolerable, and by the sleepless agonies of suspense, unnerving -the resolution which he might have otherwise summoned to his aid. - - - - -CHAPTER LXX. - -THE BARONET'S ROOM. - - -Desperately wounded, O'Connor lay between life and death for many weeks -in the dim and secluded apartment whither O'Hanlon had borne him after -his combat with Sir Henry Ashwoode. There, fearing lest his own -encounter with Wharton, and its startling result, should mark them for -pursuit and search, he placed O'Connor under the charge of trusty -creatures of his own--for some time not daring to visit him except -under cover of the night. This alarm, however, soon subsided; and -consequently less precaution was adopted. O'Connor's wounds were, as we -have said, most dangerous, and for fully two months he lay upon the -fiery couch of fever, alternately raving in delirium, and locked in the -dull stupor of entire apathy and exhaustion. Through this season of -pain and peril he was sustained, however, by the energies of a young -and vigorous constitution. The fever, at length, abated, and the -unclouded light of reason returned; still, however, in body he was -weak, so weak that, sorely against his will, he was perforce obliged to -continue the occupant of his narrow bed, in the dingy and secluded -lodgings in which he lay. Impatient to learn something of her who -entirely filled his thoughts, and of the truth of whose love for him he -now felt the revival of more than hope, he chafed and fretted in the -narrow limits of his dark and gloomy chamber. Spite of all the -remonstrances of the old crone who attended him, backed by the more -awful fulminations of his apothecary, O'Connor would not submit any -longer to the confinement of his bed; and, but for the firm and -effectual resistance of O'Hanlon, would have succeeded, weak as he was, -in making his escape from the house, and resuming his ordinary -occupations and pursuits, as though his health had not suffered, nor -his strength become impaired, so as to leave him scarcely the power of -walking a hundred steps, without the extremest exhaustion and -lassitude. To O'Hanlon's expostulations he was forced to yield, and -even pledged his word to him not to attempt a removal from his hated -lodgings, without his consent and approbation. In reply to a message to -his friend Audley, he learned, much to his mortification, that that -gentleman had left town, and as thus full of disquiet and anxiety, one -day O'Connor was seated, pale and languid, in his usual place by the -window, the door of his apartment opened, and O'Hanlon entered. He took -the hand of the invalid and said,-- - -"I commend your patience, young man, you have been my _parole_ prisoner -for many days. When is this durance to end?" - -"I'faith, I believe with my life," rejoined O'Connor, "I never knew -before what weariness and vexation in perfection are--this dusky room -is hateful to me, it grows narrower and narrower every day--and those -old houses opposite--every pane of glass in their windows, and every -brick in their walls I have learned by rote--I am tired to death. But, -seriously, I have other and very different reasons for wishing to be at -liberty again--reasons so urgent as to leave me no rest by night or -day. I chafe and fret here like a caged bird. I have been too long shut -up--my strength will never come again unless I am allowed to breathe -the fresh air--you are all literally killing me with kindness." - -"And yet," rejoined O'Hanlon, "I have never been thought an -over-careful leech, and truth to say, had I suffered you to have your -own way, you would not now have been a living man. I know, as well as -any of them, how to tend a wound, and this I will say, that in all my -practice it never yet has been my lot to meet with so ill-conditioned -and cross-grained a patient as yourself. Why, nothing short of -downright force has kept you in your room--your life is saved in spite -of yourself." - -"If you keep me here much longer," replied O'Connor, "it will prove but -indifferent economy as regards my bodily health, for I shall -undoubtedly cut my throat before another week." - -"There shall be no need, my friend, to find such an escape," replied -O'Hanlon, "for I now absolve you of your promise, hitherto so well -observed; nay, more, _I_ advise you to leave the house to-day. I think -your strength sufficient, and the occasion, moreover, demands that you -should visit an acquaintance immediately." - -"Who is it?" inquired O'Connor, starting to his feet with alacrity, -"thank God I am at length again my own master." - -"When I this day entered the yard of the 'Cock and Anchor'," answered -O'Hanlon, "the inn where you and I first encountered, I found a fellow -inquiring after you most earnestly; he had a letter with which he was -charged. It is from Sir Henry Ashwoode, who lies now in prison, and -under sentence of death. You start, and no wonder--his old associates -have convicted him of forgery." - -"Gracious Heaven, is it possible?" exclaimed O'Connor. - -"Nay, _certain_," continued O'Hanlon, "nor has he any longer a chance -of escape. He has been twice reprieved--but his friend Wharton is -recalled--his reprieve expires in three days' time, and then he will be -inevitably executed." - -"Good God, is this--can it be reality?" exclaimed O'Connor, trembling -with the violence of his agitation, "give me the letter." He broke the -seal, and read as follows:-- - - "EDMOND O'CONNOR,--I know I have wronged you sorely. I have - destroyed your peace and endangered your life. You are more than - avenged. I write this in the condemned cell of the gaol. If you can - bring yourself to confer with me for a few minutes, come here. I - stand on no ceremony, and time presses. Do not fail. If you be - living I shall expect you. - - "HENRY ASHWOODE." - -O'Connor's preparations were speedily made, and leaning upon the arm of -his elder friend, he, with slow and feeble steps, and a head giddy with -his long confinement, and the agitating anticipation of the scene in -which he was just about to be engaged, traversed the streets which -separated his lodging from the old city gaol--a sombre, stern, and -melancholy-looking building, surrounded by crowded and dilapidated -houses, with decayed plaster and patched windows, and a certain -desolate and sickly aspect, as though scared and blasted by the -contagious proximity of that dark receptacle of crime and desperation -which loomed above them. At the gate O'Hanlon parted from him, -appointing to meet him again in the "Cock and Anchor," whither he -repaired. After some questions, O'Connor was admitted. The clanging of -bolts, and bars, and door-chains, smote heavily on his heart--he heard -no other sounds but these and the echoing tread of their own feet, as -they traversed the long, dark, stone-paved passages which led to the -dungeon in which he whom he had last seen in the pride of fashion, and -youth, and strength, was now a condemned felon, and within a few hours -of a public and ignominious death. The turnkey paused at one of the -narrow doors opening from the dusky corridor, and unclosing it, said,-- - -"A gentleman, sir, to see you." - -"Request him to come in," replied a voice, which, though feebler than -it used to be, O'Connor had no difficulty in recognizing. In compliance -with this invitation, he with a throbbing heart entered the -prison-room. It was dimly lighted by a single small window set high in -the wall, and darkened by iron bars. A small deal table, with a few -books carelessly laid upon it, occupied the centre of the cell, and two -heavy stools were placed beside it, on one of which was seated a -figure, with his back to the light, to conceal, with a desperate -tenacity of pride, the ravages which the terrific mental fever of weeks -had wrought in his once bold and handsome face. By the wall was -stretched a wretched pallet; and upon the plaster were written and -scratched, according to the various moods of the miserable and guilty -tenants of the place, a hundred records, some of slang philosophy, some -of desperate drunken defiance, and some again of terror, but all -bearing reference to the dreadful scene to which this was but the -ante-chamber and the passage. Many hieroglyphical emblems of -unmistakable significance had also been traced upon the walls by the -successive occupants of the place, such as coffins, gallows-trees, -skulls and cross-bones; the most striking among which symbols was a -large figure of death upon a horse, sketched with much spirit, by some -moralizing convict, with a piece of burned stick, and to which some -waggish successor had appropriately added, in red chalk, a gigantic -pair of spurs. As soon as O'Connor entered, the turnkey closed the -door, and he and Sir Henry Ashwoode were left alone. A silence of some -minutes, which neither party dared to break, ensued. - - - - -CHAPTER LXXI. - -THE FAREWELL. - - -O'Connor was the first to speak. In a low voice, which trembled with -agitation, he said,-- - -"Sir Henry Ashwoode, I have come here in answer to a note which reached -me but a few minutes since. You desired a conference with me; is there -any commission with which you would wish to charge me?--if so, let me -know it, and it shall be done." - -"None, none, Mr. O'Connor, thank you," rejoined Ashwoode, recovering -his characteristic self-possession, and continuing proudly, "if you add -to your visit a patient audience of a few minutes, you will have -conferred upon me the only favour I desire. Pray, sit down; it is -rather a hard and a homely seat," he added, with a haggard, joyless -smile--"but the only one this place supplies." - -Another silence followed, during which Sir Henry Ashwoode restlessly -shifted his attitude every moment, in evident and uncontrollable -nervous excitement. At length he arose, and walked twice or thrice up -and down the narrow chamber, exhibiting without any longer care for -concealment his pale, wasted face in the full light which streamed in -through the grated window, his sunken eyes and unshorn chin, and worn -and attenuated figure. - -"You hear that sound," said he, abruptly stopping short, and looking -with the same strange smile upon O'Connor; "the clank upon the flags as -I walk up and down--the jingle of the fetters--isn't it strange--isn't -it odd--like a dream--eh?" - -Another silence followed, which Ashwoode again abruptly interrupted. - -"You know all this story?--of course you do--everybody does--how the -wretches have trapped me--isn't it terrible--isn't it dreadful? Oh! you -cannot know what it is to mope about this place alone, when it is -growing dark, as I do every evening, and in the night time. If I had -been another man, I'd have been raving mad by this time. I said -_alone_--did I?" he continued, with increasing excitement; "oh! that it -were!--oh! that it were! He comes there--_there_," he screamed, pointing -to the foot of the bed, "with all those infernal cloths and fringes -about his face, morning and evening. Ah, God! such a thing--half idiot, -half fiend; and still the same, though I curse him till I'm hoarse, he -won't leave it. Can't they wait--can't they wait? for-ever is a long -day. As I'm a living man, he's with me every night--there--there is the -body, gaping and nodding--_there_--_there_--_there_!" - -As he shouted this with frantic and despairing horror, shaking his -clenched hands toward the place of his dreaded nightly visitant, -O'Connor felt a thrill of horror such as he had never known before, and -hardly recovered from this painful feeling, when Sir Henry Ashwoode -turned to the little table on which, among many things, a vessel of -water was placed, and filling some out into a cracked cup, he added to -it drops from a phial, and hastily swallowed the mixture. - -"Laudanum is all the philosophy or religion I can boast; it's well to -have even so much," said he, returning the bottle to his pocket. "It's -a dead secret, though, that I have got any; this is a present from the -doctor they allow me to see, and I'm on honour not--to poison -myself--isn't it comical?--for fear he should get into a scrape; but -I've another game to play--no fear of that--no, no." - -Another silence followed, and Sir Henry Ashwoode said quickly,-- - -"What do the people say about it? Do they think I forged that accursed -bond? Do they think me guilty?" - -O'Connor declared his entire ignorance of public rumour, alleging his -own illness, and consequent close confinement, as the cause of it. - -"They sha'n't believe me guilty, no, they sha'n't. Look ye, sir, I have -one good feeling left," he resumed, vehemently; "I will not let my name -suffer. If the most resolute firmness to the very last, and the most -solemn renunciation of the charges preferred against me, reiterated at -the foot of the gallows, with the halter about my neck--if these can -beget a belief of my innocence, my name shall be clear--my name shall -not suffer; this last outrage I will avert; but oh, my God! is there no -chance yet--must I--_must_ I perish? Will no one save me--will no one -help me? Oh, God! oh, God! is there no pity--no succour; must it come?" - -Thus crying, he threw himself forward upon the table, while every joint -and muscle quivered and heaved with fierce hysterical sobs which, more -like a succession of short convulsive shrieks than actual weeping, -betrayed his agony, while O'Connor looked on with a mixture of horror -and pity, which all that was past could not suppress. - -At length the paroxysm subsided. The wretched man filled out some more -water, and mingling some drops of laudanum in it, he drank it off, and -became comparatively composed. - -"Not a word of this to any living being, I charge you," said he, -clutching O'Connor's arm in his attenuated hand, and fixing his sunken -fiery eyes upon his; "I would not have my folly known; I'm not always -so weak as you have seen me. It _must_ be, that's all--no help for it. -It's rather a novel thing, though, to hang a baronet--ha! ha! You look -scared--you think my wits are unsettled; but you're wrong. I don't -sleep; I hav'n't for some time; and want of rest, you know, makes a -man's manner odd; makes him excitable--nervous. I'm more myself now." - -After a short pause, Sir Henry Ashwoode resumed,-- - -"When we had that affray together, in which would to God you had run me -through the heart, you put a question to me about my sister--poor Mary; -I will answer that now, and more than answer it. That girl loves you -with her whole heart; loves you alone; never loved another. It matters -not to tell how I and my father--the great and accursed first cause of -all our misfortunes and miseries--effected your estrangement. The -Italian miscreant told you truth. The girl is gone I know not whither, -to seek an asylum from me--ay, from _me_. To save my life and honour. I -would have constrained her to marry the wretch who has destroyed me. It -was he--_he_ who urged it, who cajoled me. I joined him, to save my -life and honour! and now--oh! God, where are they?" - -O'Connor rose, and said somewhat sternly,-- - -"May God pardon you, Sir Henry Ashwoode, for all you have done against -the peace of that most noble and generous being, your sister. What I -have suffered at your hands I heartily forgive." - -"I ask forgiveness nowhere," rejoined Ashwoode, stoically; "what's done -is done. It has been a wild and fitful life, and is now over. What -forgiveness can you give me or she that's worth a thought?--folly, -folly!" - -"One word of earnest hope before I leave you; one word of solemn -warning," said O'Connor; "the vanities of this world are fading fast -and for ever from your view; you are going where the applause of men -can reach you no more! I conjure you, then, for the sake of your -eternal peace, if your sentence be a just one, do not insult your -Creator by denying your guilt, and pass into His awful presence with a -lie upon your lips." - -Ashwoode paused for a moment, and then walked suddenly up to O'Connor, -and almost in a whisper said,-- - -"Not a word of that, my course is chosen; not one word more. Observe, -what has passed between us is private; now leave me." So saying, -Ashwoode turned from him, and walked toward the narrow window of his -cell. - -"Farewell, Sir Henry Ashwoode, farewell for ever; and may God have -mercy upon you," said O'Connor, passing out upon the dark and narrow -corridor. - -The turnkey closed the door with a heavy crash upon his prisoner, and -locked it once more, and thus the two young men, who had so often and -so variously encountered in the unequal path of life, were parted never -again to meet in the wayward scenes of this chequered and changeful -existence. Tired and agitated, O'Connor threw himself into the first -coach he met, and was deposited safely in the "Cock and Anchor." It -were vain to attempt to describe the ecstasies and transports of honest -Larry Toole at the unexpected recovery of his long-lost master; we -shall not attempt to do so. It is enough for our purpose to state that -at the "Cock and Anchor" O'Connor received two letters from his old -friend, Mr. Audley, and one conveying a pressing invitation from Oliver -French of Ardgillagh, in compliance with which, early on the next -morning, he mounted his horse, and set forth, followed by his trusty -squire, upon the high road to Naas, resolved to task his strength to -the uttermost, although he knew that even thus he must necessarily -divide his journey into many more stages than his impatience would have -allowed, had more rapid travelling in his weak condition been possible. - - - - -CHAPTER LXXII. - -THE ROPE AND THE RIOT IN GALLOWS GREEN--AND THE WOODS OF ARDGILLAGH BY -MOONLIGHT. - - -At length came that day, that dreadful day, whose evening Sir Henry -Ashwoode was never to see. Noon was the time fixed for the fatal -ceremonial; and long before that hour, the mob, in one dense mass of -thousands, had thronged and choked the streets leading to the old gaol. -Upon this awful day the wretched man acquired, by a strange revulsion, -a kind of stoical composure, which sustained him throughout the -dreadful preparations. With hands cold as clay, and a face white as -ashes, and from which every vestige of animation had vanished, he -proceeded, nevertheless, with a calm and collected demeanour to make -all his predetermined arrangements for the fearful scene. With a minute -elaborateness he finished his toilet, and dressed himself in a grave, -but particularly handsome suit. Could this shrunken, torpid, ghastly -spectre, in reality be the same creature who, a few months since, was -the admiration and envy of half the beaux of Dublin? - -There was little or none of the fitful excitability about him which had -heretofore marked his demeanour during his confinement; on the -contrary, a kind of stupor and apathy had supervened, partly occasioned -by the laudanum which he had taken in unusually large quantities, and -partly by the overwhelming horror of his situation. He seemed to -observe and hear nothing. When the gaoler entered to remove his irons, -shortly before the time of his removal had arrived, he seemed a little -startled, and observing the physician who had attended him among those -who stood at the door of his cell, he beckoned him toward him. - -"Doctor, doctor," said he in a dusky voice, "how much laudanum may I -safely take? I want my head clear to say a few words, to speak to the -people. Don't give me too much; but let me, with that condition, have -whatever I can safely swallow. You know--you understand me; don't -oblige me to speak any more just now." - -The physician felt his pulse, and looked in his face, and then mingled -a little laudanum and water, which he applied to the young man's pale, -dry lips. This dose was hardly swallowed, when one of the gaol -officials entered, and stated that the ordinary was anxious to know -whether the prisoner wished to pray or confer with him in private -before his departure. The question had to be twice repeated ere it -reached Sir Henry. He replied, however, quickly, and in a low tone,-- - -"No, no, not for the world. I can't bear it; don't disturb me--don't, -don't." - -It was now intimated to the prisoner that he must proceed. His arms -were pinioned, and he was conducted along the passages leading to the -entrance of the gaol, where he was received by the sheriff. For a -moment, as he passed out into the broad light and the keen fresh air, -he beheld the vast and eager mob pressing and heaving like a great dark -sea around him, and the mounted escort of dragoons with drawn swords -and gay uniforms; and without attaching any clear or definite meaning -to the spectacle, he beheld the plumes of a hearse, and two or three -fellows engaged in sliding the long black coffin into its place. These -sights, and the strange, gaping faces of the crowd, and the sheriff's -carriage, and the gay liveries, and the crowded fronts and roofs of the -crazy old houses opposite, for one moment danced like the fragment of a -dream across his vision, and in the next he sat in the old-fashioned -coach which was to convey him to the place of execution. - -"Only twenty-seven years, only twenty-seven years, only twenty-seven -years," he muttered, vacantly and mechanically repeating the words -which had reached his ear from those who were curiously reading the -plate upon the coffin as he entered the coach--"only twenty-seven, -twenty-seven." - -The awful procession moved on to the place of its final destination; -the enormous mob rushing along with it--crowding, jostling, swearing, -laughing, whistling, quarrelling, and hustling, as they forced their -way onward, and staring with coarse and eager curiosity whenever they -could into the vehicle in which Ashwoode sat. All the sights--the -haggard, smirched, and eager faces, the prancing horses of the -troopers, the well-known shops and streets, and the crowded -windows--all sailed by his eyes like some unintelligible and -heart-sickening dream. The place of public execution for criminals was -then, and continued to be for long after, a spot significantly -denominated "Gallows Hill," situated in the neighbourhood of St. -Stephen's Green, and not far from the line at present traversed by -Baggot Street. There a permanent gallows was erected, and thither, at -length, amid thousands of crowding spectators, the melancholy -procession came, and proceeded to the centre of area, where the gallows -stood, with the long new rope swinging in the wind, and the cart and -the hangman, with the guard of soldiers, prepared for their reception. -The vehicles drew up, and those who had to play a part in the dreadful -scene descended. The guard took their place, preserving a narrow circle -around the fatal spot, free from the pressure of the crowd. The -carriages were driven a little away, and the coffin was placed close -under the gallows, while Ashwoode, leaning upon the chaplain and upon -one of the sheriffs, proceeded toward the cart, which made the rude -platform on which he was to stand. - -"Sir Henry Ashwoode," observes a contemporary authority, the _Dublin -Journal_, "showed a great deal of calmness and dignity, insomuch that a -great many of the mob, especially among the women, were weeping. His -figure and features were handsome, and he was finely dressed. He prayed -a short time with the ordinary, and then, with little assistance, -mounted the hurdle, whence he spoke to the people, declaring his -innocence with great solemnity. Then the hangman loosened his cravat, -and opened his shirt at the neck, and Sir Henry turning to him, bid -him, as it was understood, to take a ring from his finger, for a token -of forgiveness, which he did, and then the man drew the cap over his -eyes; but he made a sign, and the hangman lifted it up again, and Sir -Henry, looking round at all the multitude, said again, three times, 'In -the presence of God Almighty, I stand here innocent;' and then, a -minute after, 'I forgive all my enemies, and I die innocent;' then he -spoke a word to the hangman, and the cap being pulled down, and the -rope quickly adjusted, the hurdle was moved away, and he swung off, the -people with one consent crying out the while. He struggled for a long -time, and very hard; and not for more than an hour was the body cut -down, and laid in the coffin. He was buried in the night-time. His last -dying words have begot among most people a great opinion of his -innocence, though the lawyers still hold to it that he was guilty. It -was said that Mr. Blarden, the prosecutor, was in a house in Stephen's -Green, to see the hanging, and as soon as the mob heard it, they went -and broke the windows, and, but for the soldiers, would have forced -their way in, and done more violence." - -Thus speaks the _Dublin Journal_, and the extract needs no addition -from us. - - -Gladly do we leave this hateful scene, and turn from the dreadful fate -of him whose follies and vices had wrought so much misery to others, -and ended in such fearful ignominy and destruction to himself. We leave -the smoky town, with all its fashion, vice, and villainy; its princely -equipages; its prodigals; its paupers; its great men and its -sycophants; its mountebanks and mendicants; its riches and its -wretchedness. We leave that old city of strange compounds, where the -sublime and the ridiculous, deep tragedies and most whimsical farces -are ever mingling--where magnificence and squalor rub shoulders day by -day, and beggars sit upon the steps of palaces. How much of what is -wonderful, wild, and awful, has not thy secret history known! How much -of the romance of human act and passion, vicissitude, joy and sorrow, -grandeur and despair, has there not lived, and moved, and perished, age -after age, under thy perennial curtain of solemn smoke! - -Far, far behind, we leave the sickly smoky town--and over the far blue -hills and wooded country--through rocky glens, and by sonorous streams, -and over broad undulating plains, and through the quiet villages, with -their humble thatched roofs from which curls up the light blue smoke -among the sheltering bushes and tall hedge-rows--through ever-changing -scenes of softest rural beauty, in day time and at even-tide, and by -the wan, misty moonlight, we follow the two travellers who ride toward -the old domain of Ardgillagh. - -The fourth day's journey brought them to the little village which -formed one of the boundaries of that old place. But, long ere they -reached it, the sun had gone down behind the distant hills, under his -dusky canopy of crimson clouds, and the pale moon had thrown its broad -light and shadows over the misty landscape. Under the soft splendour of -the moon, chequered by the moving shadows of the tall and ancient -trees, they rode into the humble village--no sound arose to greet them -but the desultory baying of the village dogs, and the soft sighing of -the light breeze through the spreading boughs--and no signal of waking -life was seen, except, few and far between, the red level beam of some -still glowing turf fire, shining through the rude and narrow aperture -that served the simple rustic instead of casement. - -At one of these humble dwellings Larry Toole applied for information, -and with ready courtesy the "man of the house," in person, walked with -them to the entrance of the place, and shoved open one of the valves of -the crazy old gate, and O'Connor rode slowly in, following, with his -best caution, the directions of his guide. His honest squire, Larry, -meanwhile, loitered a little behind, in conference with the courteous -peasant, and with the laudable intention of procuring some trifling -refection, which, however, he determined to swallow without -dismounting, and with all convenient dispatch, bearing in mind a -wholesome remembrance of the disasters which followed his convivial -indulgence in the little town of Chapelizod. While Larry thus loitered, -O'Connor followed the wild winding avenue which formed the only -approach to the old mansion. This rude track led him a devious way over -slopes, and through hollows, and by the broad grey rocks, white as -sheeted phantoms in the moonlight, and the thick weeds and brushwood -glittering with the heavy dew of night, and through the beautiful misty -vistas of the ancient wild wood, now still and solemn as old cathedral -aisles. Thus, under the serene and cloudless light of the sailing moon, -he had reached the bank of the broad and shallow brook whose shadowy -nooks and gleaming eddies were canopied under the gnarled and arching -boughs of the hoary thorn and oak--and here tradition tells a -marvellous tale. - -It is narrated that when O'Connor reached this point, his jaded horse -stopped short, refusing to cross the stream, and when urged by voice -and spur, reared, snorted, and by every indication exhibited the -extremest terror and an obstinate reluctance to pass the brook. The -rider dismounted--took his steed by the head, patted and caressed him, -and by every art endeavoured to induce him to traverse the little -stream, but in vain; while thus fruitlessly employed, his attention was -arrested by the sounds of a female voice, in low and singularly sweet -and plaintive lamentation, and looking across the water, for the first -time he beheld the object which so affrighted his steed. It was a -female figure arrayed in a mantle of dusky red, the hood of which hung -forward so as to hide the face and head: she was seated upon a broad -grey rock by the brook's side, and her head leaned forward so as to -rest upon her knees; her bare arm hung by her side, and the white -fingers played listlessly in the clear waters of the brook, while with -a wild and piteous chaunt, which grew louder and clearer as he gazed, -she still sang on her strange mournful song. Spellbound and entranced, -he knew not why, O'Connor gazed on in speechless and breathless awe, -until at length the tall form arose and disappeared among the old -trees, and the sounds melted away and were lost among the soft chiming -of the brook, and heard no more. He dared not say whether it was -reality or illusion, he felt like one suddenly recalled from a dream, -and a certain awe, and horror, and dismay still hung upon him, for -which he scarcely could account. - -Without further resistance, the horse now crossed the brook; O'Connor -remounted, and followed the shadowy track; but again he was destined to -meet with interruption; the pathway which he followed, embowered among -the branching trees and bushes, at one point wound beneath a low, -ivy-mantled rock; he was turning this point, when his horse, snorting -loudly, checked his pace with a recoil so sudden that he threw himself -back upon his haunches, and remained, except for his violent trembling, -fixed and motionless. O'Connor raised his eyes, and standing upon the -rock which overhung the avenue, he beheld, for a moment, a tall female -form clothed in an ample cloak of dusky red. The arms with the hands -clasped, as if in the extremity of woe, firmly together, were extended -above her head, the face white as the foam of the river, and the eyes -preternaturally large and wild, were raised fixedly toward the broad -bright moon; this phantom, for such it was, for a moment occupied his -gaze, and in the next, with a scream so piercing and appalling that his -very marrow seemed to freeze at the sound, she threw herself forward as -though she would cast herself upon the horse and rider--and, was gone. - - [Illustration: "His horse, snorting loudly, checked his pace." - _To face page 354._] - -The horse started wildly off and galloped at headlong speed up the -broken ascent, and for some time O'Connor had not collectedness to -check his frantic course, or even to think; at length, however, he -succeeded in calming the terrified animal--and, uttering a fervent -prayer, he proceeded, without further adventure, till the tall gable of -the old mansion in the spectral light of the moon among its thick -embowering trees and rich ivy-mantles, with all its tall white chimney -stacks and narrow windows with their thousand glittering panes, arose -before his anxious gaze. - - - - -CHAPTER LXXIII. - -THE LAST LOOK. - - -Time had flowed on smoothly in the quiet old place, with an even -current unbroken and unmarred, except by one event. Sir Henry -Ashwoode's danger was known to old French and Mr. Audley; but with -anxious and effectual care they kept all knowledge of his peril and -disgrace from poor Mary: this pang was spared her. The months that -passed had wrought in her a change so great and so melancholy, that -none could look upon her without sorrowful forebodings, without -misgivings against which they vainly strove. Sore grief had done its -worst: the light and graceful step grew languid and feeble--the young -face wan and wasted--the beautiful eyes grew dim; and now in her sad -and early decline, as in other times, when her smile was sunshine, and -her very step light music, was still with her the same warm and gentle -spirit; and even amid the waste and desolation of decay, still -prevailed the ineffaceable lines of that matchless and touching beauty, -which in other times had wrought such magic. - -It was upon that day, the night of which saw O'Connor's long-deferred -arrival at Ardgillagh, that Flora Guy, vainly striving to restrain her -tears, knocked at Mr. Audley's chamber door. The old gentleman quickly -answered the summons. - -"Ah, sir," said the girl, "she's very bad, sir, if you wish to see her, -come at once." - -"I _do_, indeed, wish to see her, the dear child," said he, while the -tears started to his eyes; "bring me to the room." - -He followed the kind girl to the door, and she first went in, and in a -low voice told her that Mr. Audley wished much to see her, and she, -with her own sweet, sad smile, bade her bring him to her bedside. - -Twice the old man essayed to enter, and twice he stayed to weep -bitterly as a child. At length he commanded composure enough to enter, -and stood by the bedside, and silently and reverently held the hand of -her that was dying. - -"My dear child! my darling!" said he, vainly striving to suppress his -sobs, while the tears fell fast upon the thin small hand he held in -his--"I have sought this interview, to tell you what I would fain have -told you often before now but knew not how to speak of it, I want to -speak to you of one who loved you, and loves you still, as mortal has -seldom loved; of--of my good young friend O'Connor." - -As he said this, he saw, or was it fancy, the faintest flush imaginable -for one moment tinge her pale cheek. He had touched a chord to which -the pulses of her heart, until they had ceased to beat, must tremble; -and silently and slow the tears gathered upon her long dark lashes, and -followed one another down her wan face, unheeded. Thus she listened -while he related how truly O'Connor had loved her, and when the tale -was ended she wept on long and silently. - -"Flora," she said at length, "cut off a lock of my hair." - -The girl did as she was desired, and in her thin and feeble hand her -young mistress took it. - -"Whenever you see him, sir," said she, "will you give him this, and say -that I sent it for a token that to the last I loved him, and to help -him to remember me when I am gone: this is my last message--and poor -Flora, won't you take care of her?" - -"Won't I, won't I!" sobbed the old man, vehemently. "While I have a -shilling in the world she shall never know want--faithful creature"--and -he grasped the honest girl's hand, and shook it, and sobbed and wept -like a child. - -He took the long dark ringlet, which he had promised to give to -O'Connor; and seeing that his presence agitated her, he took a long -last look at the young face he was never more to see in life, and -kissing the small hand again and again, he turned and went out, crying -bitterly. - -Soon after this she grew much fainter, and twice or thrice she spoke as -though her mind was busy with other scenes. - -"Let us go down to the well side," she said, "the primroses and -cowslips are always there the earliest;" and then she said again, "He's -coming, Flora; he'll be here very soon, so come and dress my hair; he -likes to see my hair dressed with flowers--wild flowers." - -Shortly after this she sank into a soft and gentle sleep, and while she -lay thus calmly, there came over her pale face a smile of such a pure -and heavenly light, that angelic hope, and peace, and glory, shone in -its beauty. The smile changed not; but she was dead! The sorrowful -struggle was over--the weary bosom was at rest--the true and gentle -heart was cold for ever--the brief but sorrowful trial was over--the -desolate mourner was gone to the land where the pangs of grief, the -tumults of passion, regrets, and cold neglect are felt no more. - -Her favourite bird, with gay wings, flutters to the casement; the -flowers she planted are sweet upon the evening air; and by their -hearths the poor still talk of her and bless her; but the silvery voice -that spoke, and the gentle hand that tended, and the beautiful smile -that gave an angelic grace to the offices of charity, where are they? - - -The tapers are lighted in the silent chamber, and Flora Guy has laid -early spring flowers on the still cold form that sleeps there in its -serene sad beauty tranquilly and for ever; when in the court-yard are -heard the tramp and clatter of a horse's hoofs--it is he--O'Connor,--he -comes for her--the long lost--the dearly loved--the true-hearted--the -found again. - -'Twere vain to tell of frantic grief--words cannot tell, nor -imagination conceive, the depth--the wildness--the desolation of that -woe. - - - - -CONCLUSION. - - -Some fifteen years ago there was still to be seen in the little ruined -church which occupies a corner in what yet remains of the once -magnificent domain of Ardgillagh, side by side among the tangled weeds, -two gravestones; one recording the death of Mary Ashwoode, at the early -age of twenty-two, in the year of grace 1710; the other, that of Edmond -O'Connor, who fell at Denain, in the year of our Lord 1712. Thus they -were, who in life were separated, laid side by side in death. It is a -still and sequestered spot, and the little ruin clothed in rich ivy, -and sheltered by the great old trees with its solemn and holy quiet, in -such a resting-place as most mortals would fain repose in when their -race is done. - -For the rest our task is quickly done. Mr. Audley and Oliver French had -so much gotten into one another's way of going on, that the former -gentleman from week to week, and from month to month, continued to -prolong his visit, until after a residence of eight years, he died at -length in the mansion of Ardgillagh, at a very advanced age, and -without more than two days' illness, having never experienced before, -in all his life, one hour's sickness of any kind. Honest Oliver French -outlived his boon companion by the space of two years, having just -eaten an omelette and actually called for some woodcock-pie; he -departed suddenly while the servant was raising the crust. Old Audley -left Flora Guy well provided for at his death, but somehow or other -considerably before that event Larry Toole succeeded in prevailing on -the honest handmaiden to marry him, and although, questionless, there -was some disparity in point of years, yet tradition says, and we -believe it, that there never lived a fonder or a happier couple, and it -is a genealogical fact, that half the Tooles who are now to be found in -that quarter of the country, derive their descent from the very -alliance in question. - -Of Major O'Leary we have only to say that the rumour which hinted at -his having united his fortunes with those of the house of Rumble, were -but too well founded. He retired with his buxom bride to a small -property, remote from the dissipation of the capital, and except in the -matter of an occasional cock-fight, whenever it happened to be within -reach, or a tough encounter with the squire, when a new pipe of claret -was to be tasted, one or two occasional indiscretions, he became, as he -himself declared, in all respects an ornament to society. - -Lady Stukely, within a few months after the explosion with young -Ashwoode, vented her indignation by actually marrying young -Pigwiggynne. It was said, indeed, that they were not happy; of this, -however, we cannot be sure; but it is undoubtedly certain that they -used to beat, scratch, and pinch each other in private--whether in play -merely, or with the serious intention of correcting one another's -infirmities of temper, we know not. Several weeks before Lady Stukely's -marriage, Emily Copland succeeded in her long-cherished schemes against -the celibacy of poor Lord Aspenly. His lordship, however, lived on with -a perseverance perfectly spiteful, and his lady, alas and alack-a-day, -tired out, at length committed a _faux pas_--the trial is on record, -and eventuated, it is sufficient to say, in a verdict for the -plaintiff. - -Of Chancey, we have only to say that his fate was as miserable as his -life had been abject and guilty. When he arose after the tremendous -fall which he had received at the hands of his employer, Nicholas -Blarden, upon the memorable night which defeated all their schemes, for -he _did_ arise with life--intellect and remembrance were alike -quenched--he was thenceforward a drivelling idiot. Though none cared to -inquire into the cause and circumstances of his miserable privation, -long was he well known and pointed out in the streets of Dublin, where -he subsisted upon the scanty alms of superstitious charity, until at -length, during the great frost in the year 1739, he was found dead one -morning, in a corner under St. Audoen's Arch, stark and cold, cowering -in his accustomed attitude. - -Nicholas Blarden died upon his feather bed, and if every luxury which -imagination can devise, or prodigal wealth procure, can avail to soothe -the racking torments of the body, and the terrors of the appalled -spirit, he died happy. - -Of the other actors in this drama--with the exception of M'Quirk, who -was publicly whipped for stealing four pounds of sausages from an eating -house in Bride Street, and the Italian, who, we believe, was seen as -groom-porter in Mr. Blarden's hell, for many years after--tradition is -silent. - - - [Illustration: The End.] - - -GILBERT AND RIVINGTON, LD., ST. JOHN'S HOUSE, CLERKENWELL. - - - - - - -End of Project Gutenberg's The Cock and Anchor, by Joseph Sheridan Le Fanu - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE COCK AND ANCHOR *** - -***** This file should be named 40126-8.txt or 40126-8.zip ***** -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: - http://www.gutenberg.org/4/0/1/2/40126/ - -Produced by Suzanne Shell and the Online Distributed -Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was -produced from images generously made available by The -Internet Archive/Canadian Libraries) - - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions -will be renamed. - -Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no -one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation -(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without -permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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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 Cock and Anchor - -Author: Joseph Sheridan Le Fanu - -Illustrator: Brinsley Le Fanu - -Release Date: July 2, 2012 [EBook #40126] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: UTF-8 - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE COCK AND ANCHOR *** - - - - -Produced by Suzanne Shell and the Online Distributed -Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was -produced from images generously made available by The -Internet Archive/Canadian Libraries) - - - - - - -</pre> - +<div>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 40126 ***</div> <div class="figcenter"><img src="images/cover.jpg" alt="Cover" width="362" height="550"></div> @@ -1075,7 +1035,7 @@ obscurity—nothing about any of them, such as you might know again?" </p> <p> -"Nothing—the very outline was indistinct. I could merely pee that +"Nothing—the very outline was indistinct. I could merely see that they were shaped like men." </p> @@ -23720,382 +23680,7 @@ after—tradition is silent. <small>GILBERT AND RIVINGTON, LD., ST. JOHN'S HOUSE, CLERKENWELL. </small></p> - - - - - - -<pre> - - - - - -End of Project Gutenberg's The Cock and Anchor, by Joseph Sheridan Le Fanu - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE COCK AND ANCHOR *** - -***** This file should be named 40126-h.htm or 40126-h.zip ***** -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: - http://www.gutenberg.org/4/0/1/2/40126/ - -Produced by Suzanne Shell and the Online Distributed -Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was -produced from images generously made available by The -Internet Archive/Canadian Libraries) - - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions -will be renamed. - -Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no -one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation -(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without -permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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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 Cock and Anchor - -Author: Joseph Sheridan Le Fanu - -Illustrator: Brinsley Le Fanu - -Release Date: July 2, 2012 [EBook #40126] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: ASCII - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE COCK AND ANCHOR *** - - - - -Produced by Suzanne Shell and the Online Distributed -Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was -produced from images generously made available by The -Internet Archive/Canadian Libraries) - - - - - - - [Illustration: "'Farewell, my lord!' said Swift, abruptly." - _Frontispiece_.] - - -The Cock And Anchor - - -By - -Joseph Sheridan Le Fanu - - -Illustrated by -Brinsley Le Fanu - - -Downey & Co. -12 York St. -Covent Garden. - -(1895) - - - - -NOTE. - - -"THE COCK AND ANCHOR: a Chronicle of Old Dublin City," was first -published in Dublin in three volumes in 1845, with the joint imprints -of William Curry, Junior, & Co., Dublin; Longman, Brown, Green & -Longmans, London; and Fraser & Co., Edinburgh. There is no author's -name on the title-page of the original edition. The work has not since -been reprinted under the title of "The Cock and Anchor;" but some years -after its first appearance my father made several alterations (most of -which are adhered to in the present edition) in the story, and it was -re-issued in the Select Library of Fiction under the title of "Morley -Court." - -The novel has been out of print for a long period, and I have decided -to republish it now under its original and proper title. I have made -no changes in such dates as are mentioned here and there in the course -of the narrative, but the reader should bear in mind that this -"Chronicle of Old Dublin City" was written fifty years ago. - -BRINSLEY SHERIDAN LE FANU. - -_London, July, 1895._ - - - - -CONTENTS. - - -CHAPTER PAGE - - I.--THE "COCK AND ANCHOR" 1 - - II.--A BED IN THE "COCK AND ANCHOR" 6 - - III.--THE LITTLE MAN 10 - - IV.--A SCARLET HOOD 14 - - V.--O'CONNOR'S MOONLIGHT WALK 23 - - VI.--THE SOLDIER 28 - - VII.--THREE GRIM FIGURES 36 - - VIII.--THE WARNING 40 - - IX.--THE "BLEEDING HORSE" 44 - - X.--THE MASTER OF MORLEY COURT 51 - - XI.--THE OLD BEECH TREE WALK 62 - - XII.--THE APPOINTED HOUR 72 - - XIII.--THE INTERVIEW 75 - - XIV.--ABOUT A CERTAIN GARDEN AND A DAMSEL 83 - - XV.--THE TRAITOR 88 - - XVI.--SIGNOR PARUCCI ALONE 92 - - XVII.--DUBLIN CASTLE BY NIGHT 99 - - XVIII.--THE TWO COUSINS 106 - - XIX.--THE THEATRE 110 - - XX.--THE LODGING 116 - - XXI.--WHO APPEARED TO MARY ASHWOODE 122 - - XXII.--THE SPINET 125 - - XXIII.--THE DARK ROOM 131 - - XXIV.--A CRITIC 135 - - XXV.--THE COMBAT AND ITS ISSUE 140 - - XXVI.--THE HELL 143 - - XXVII.--THE DEPARTURE OF THE PEER 151 - - XXVIII.--THE THUNDER-STORM 154 - - XXIX.--THE CRONES 157 - - XXX.--SKY-COPPER COURT 163 - - XXXI.--THE USURER AND THE OAKEN BOX 168 - - XXXII.--THE DIABOLIC WHISPER 171 - - XXXIII.--HOW SIR HENRY ASHWOODE PLAYED AND PLOTTED 174 - - XXXIV.--THE "OLD ST. COLUMBKIL" 178 - - XXXV.--THE COUSIN AND THE BLACK CABINET 184 - - XXXVI.--JEWELS, PLATE, HORSES, DOGS 189 - - XXXVII.--THE RECKONING 191 - -XXXVIII.--STRANGE GUESTS AT THE MANOR 196 - - XXXIX.--THE BARGAIN 199 - - XL.--DREAMS 204 - - XLI.--A CERTAIN TRAVELLING ECCLESIASTIC 208 - - XLII.--THE SQUIRES 212 - - XLIII.--THE WILD WOOD 217 - - XLIV.--THE DOOM 222 - - XLV.--THE MAN IN THE CLOAK 226 - - XLVI.--THE DOUBLE CONFERENCE 231 - - XLVII.--THE "JOLLY BOWLERS" 236 - - XLVIII.--THE STAINED RUFFLES 241 - - XLIX.--OLD SONGS 246 - - L.--THE PRESS IN THE WALL 252 - - LI.--FLORA GUY 259 - - LII.--MARY ASHWOODE'S WALK 262 - - LIII.--THE DOUBLE FAREWELL 266 - - LIV.--THE TWO CHANCES 273 - - LV.--THE FEARFUL VISITANT 277 - - LVI.--EBENEZER SHYCOCK 280 - - LVII.--THE CHAPLAIN'S ARRIVAL AT MORLEY COURT 284 - - LVIII.--THE SIGNAL 290 - - LIX.--HASTE AND PERIL 296 - - LX.--THE UNTREASURED CHAMBER 299 - - LXI.--THE CART AND THE STRAW 302 - - LXII.--THE COUNCIL 308 - - LXIII.--PARTING 311 - - LXIV.--MISTRESS MARTHA AND BLACK M'GUINNESS 315 - - LXV.--THE CONFERENCE 319 - - LXVI.--THE BED-CHAMBER 322 - - LXVII.--THE EXPULSION 327 - - LXVIII.--THE FRAY 332 - - LXIX.--THE BOLTED WINDOW 337 - - LXX.--THE BARONET'S ROOM 341 - - LXXI.--THE FAREWELL 345 - - LXXII.--THE ROPE AND THE RIOT 349 - - LXXIII.--THE LAST LOOK 354 - - CONCLUSION 357 - - - - -LIST OF FULL PAGE ILLUSTRATIONS. - - -"Farewell, my lord," said Swift, abruptly _Frontispiece_ - -Threw himself luxuriously into a capacious - leather-bottomed chair _to face page_ 4 - -Again the conqueror crowed the shrill - note of victory " 34 - -Parucci approached the prostrate figure " 156 - -"Painted! varnished!" she screamed hysterically " 188 - -He made his way to the aperture " 223 - -Glide noiselessly behind Chancey " 293 - -Driven to bay ... he drew his sword " 338 - -His horse, snorting loudly, checked his pace " 354 - - - - -THE "COCK AND ANCHOR." - - - - -CHAPTER I. - -THE "COCK AND ANCHOR"--TWO HORSEMEN--AND A SUPPER BY THE INN FIRE. - - -Some time within the first ten years of the last century, there stood -in the fair city of Dublin, and in one of those sinuous and narrow -streets which lay in the immediate vicinity of the Castle, a goodly and -capacious hostelry, snug and sound, and withal carrying in its aspect -something staid and aristocratic, and perhaps in nowise the less -comfortable that it was rated, in point of fashion, somewhat obsolete. -Its structure was quaint and antique; so much so, that had its -counterpart presented itself within the precincts of "the Borough," it -might fairly have passed itself off for the genuine old Tabard of -Geoffry Chaucer. - -The front of the building, facing the street, rested upon a row of -massive wooden blocks, set endwise, at intervals of some six or eight -feet, and running parallel at about the same distance, to the wall of -the lower story of the house, thus forming a kind of rude cloister or -open corridor, running the whole length of the building. - -The spaces between these rude pillars were, by a light frame-work of -timber, converted into a succession of arches; and by an application of -the same ornamental process, the ceiling of this extended porch was -made to carry a clumsy but not unpicturesque imitation of groining. -Upon this open-work of timber, as we have already said, rested the -second story of the building; protruding beyond which again, and -supported upon beams whose projecting ends were carved into the -semblance of heads hideous as the fantastic monsters of heraldry, arose -the third story, presenting a series of tall and fancifully-shaped -gables, decorated, like the rest of the building, with an abundance of -grotesque timber-work. A wide passage, opening under the corridor which -we have described, gave admission into the inn-yard, surrounded partly -by the building itself, and partly by the stables and other offices -connected with it. Viewed from a little distance, the old fabric -presented by no means an unsightly or ungraceful aspect: on the -contrary, its very irregularities and antiquity, however in reality -objectionable, gave to it an air of comfort and almost of dignity to -which many of its more pretending and modern competitors might in vain -have aspired. Whether it was, that from the first the substantial -fabric had asserted a conscious superiority over all the minor -tenements which surrounded it, or that they in modest deference had -gradually conceded to it the prominence which it deserved--whether, in -short, it had always stood foremost, or that the street had slightly -altered its course and gradually receded, leaving it behind, an -immemorial and immovable landmark by which to measure the encroachments -of ages--certain it is, that at the time we speak of, the sturdy -hostelry stood many feet in advance of the line of houses which flanked -it on either side, narrowing the street with a most aristocratic -indifference to the comforts of the pedestrian public, thus forced to -shift for life and limb, as best they might, among the vehicles and -horses which then thronged the city streets--no doubt, too, often by -the very difficulties which it presented, entrapping the over-cautious -passenger, who preferred entering the harbour which its hospitable and -capacious doorway offered, to encountering all the perils involved in -doubling the point. - -Such as we have attempted to describe it, the old building stood more -than a century since; and when the level sunbeams at eventide glinted -brightly on its thousand miniature window panes, and upon the broad -hanging panel, which bore, in the brightest hues and richest gilding, -the portraiture of a Cock and Anchor; and when the warm, discoloured -glow of sunset touched the time-worn front of the old building with a -rich and cheery blush, even the most fastidious would have allowed that -the object was no unpleasing one. - -A dark autumnal night had closed over the old city of Dublin, and the -wind was blustering in hoarse gusts through the crowded -chimney-stacks--careening desolately through the dim streets, and -occasionally whirling some loose tile or fragment of plaster from the -house tops. The streets were silent and deserted, except when -occasionally traversed by some great man's carriage, thundering and -clattering along the broken pavement, and by its passing glare and -rattle making the succeeding darkness and silence but the more dreary. -None stirred abroad who could avoid it; and with the exception of such -rare interruptions as we have mentioned, the storm and darkness held -undisputed possession of the city. Upon this ungenial night, and -somewhat past the hour of ten, a well-mounted traveller rode into the -narrow and sheltered yard of the "Cock and Anchor;" and having bestowed -upon the groom who took the bridle of his steed such minute and anxious -directions as betokened a kind and knightly tenderness for the comforts -of his good beast, he forthwith entered the public room of the inn--a -large and comfortable chamber, having at the far end a huge hearth -overspanned by a broad and lofty mantelpiece of stone, and now sending -forth a warm and ruddy glow, which penetrated in genial streams to -every recess and corner of the room, tinging the dark wainscoting of -the walls, glinting red and brightly upon the burnished tankards and -flagons with which the cupboard was laden, and playing cheerily over -the massive beams which traversed the ceiling. Groups of men, variously -occupied and variously composed, embracing all the usual company of a -well frequented city tavern--from the staid and sober man of business, -who smokes his pipe in peace, to the loud disputatious, half-tipsy town -idler, who calls for more flagons than he can well reckon, and then -quarrels with mine host about the shot--were disposed, some singly, -others in social clusters, in cosy and luxurious ease at the stout oak -tables which occupied the expansive chamber. Among these the stranger -passed leisurely to a vacant table in the neighbourhood of the good -fire, and seating himself thereat, doffed his hat and cloak, thereby -exhibiting a finely proportioned and graceful figure, and a face of -singular nobleness and beauty. He might have seen some thirty -summers--perhaps less--but his dark and expressive features bore a -character of resolution and melancholy which seemed to tell of more -griefs and perils overpast than men so young in the world can generally -count. - -The new-comer, having thrown his hat and gloves upon the table at which -he had placed himself, stretched his stalwart limbs toward the fire in -the full enjoyment of its genial influence, and advancing the heels of -his huge jack boots nearly to the bars, he seemed for a time wholly -lost in the comfortable contemplation of the red embers which -flickered, glowed, and shifted before his eyes. From his quiet reverie -he was soon recalled by mine host in person, who, with all courtesy, -desired to know "whether his honour wished supper and a bed?" Both -questions were promptly answered in the affirmative: and before many -minutes the young horseman was deep in the discussion of a glorious -pasty, flanked by a flagon of claret, such as he had seldom tasted -before. He had scarcely concluded his meal, when another traveller, -cloaked, booted, and spurred, and carrying under his arm a pair of long -horse-pistols, and a heavy whip, entered the apartment, walked straight -up to the fire-place, and having obtained permission of the cavalier -already established there to take share of his table, he deposited -thereon the formidable weapons which he carried, cast his hat, gloves, -and cloak upon the floor, and threw himself luxuriously into a -capacious leather-bottomed chair which confronted the cheery fire. - - [Illustration: "Threw himself luxuriously into a capacious, - leather-bottomed chair." - _To face page 4._] - -"A bleak night, sir, and a dark, for a ride of twenty miles," observed -the stranger, addressing the younger guest. - -"I can the more readily agree with you, sir," replied the latter, -"seeing that I myself have ridden nigh forty, and am but just arrived." - -"Whew! that beats me hollow," cried the other, with a kind of -self-congratulatory shrug. "You see, sir, we never know how to thank -our stars for the luck we _have_ until we come to learn what luck we -might have had. I rode from Wicklow--pray, sir, if it be not too bold a -question, what line did you travel?" - -"The Cork road." - -"Ha! that's an ugly line they say to travel by night. You met with no -interruption?" - -"Troth, but I _did_, sir," replied the young man, "and none of the -pleasantest either. I was stopped, and put in no small peril, too." - -"How! stopped--stopped on the highway! By the mass, you outdo me in -every point! Would you, sir, please to favour me, if 'twere not too -much trouble, with the facts of the adventure--the particulars?" - -"Faith, sir," rejoined the young man, "as far as my knowledge serves -me, you are welcome to them all. When I was still about twelve miles -from this, I was joined from a by-road by a well mounted, and (as far -as I could discern) a respectable-looking traveller, who told me he -rode for Dublin, and asked to join company by the way. I assented; and -we jogged on pleasantly enough for some two or three miles. It was very -dark----" - -"As pitch," ejaculated the stranger, parenthetically. - -"And what little scope of vision I might have had," continued the -younger traveller, "was well nigh altogether obstructed by the constant -flapping of my cloak, blown by the storm over my face and eyes. I -suddenly became conscious that we had been joined by a third horseman, -who, in total silence, rode at my other side." - -"How and when did _he_ come up with you?" - -"I can't say," replied the narrator--"nor did his presence give me the -smallest uneasiness. He who had joined me first, all at once called out -that his stirrup strap was broken, and halloo'd to me to rein in until -he should repair the accident. This I had hardly done, when some -fellow, whom I had not seen, sprang from behind upon my horse, and -clasped my arms so tightly to my body, that so far from making use of -them, I could hardly breathe. The scoundrel who had dismounted caught -my horse by the head and held him firmly, while my hitherto silent -companion clapped a pistol to my ear." - -"The devil!" exclaimed the elder man, "that was checkmate with a -vengeance." - -"Why, in truth, so it turned out," rejoined his companion; "though I -confess my first impulse was to balk the gentlemen of the road at any -hazard; and with this view I plied my spurs rowel deep, but the rascal -who held the bridle was too old a hand to be shaken off by a plunge or -two. He swung with his whole weight to the bit, and literally brought -poor Rowley's nose within an inch of the road. Finding that resistance -was utterly vain, and not caring to squander what little brains I have -upon so paltry an adventure, I acknowledged the jurisdiction of the -gentleman's pistol, and replied to his questions." - -"You proved your sound sense by so doing," observed the other. "But -what was their purpose?" - -"As far as I could gather," replied the younger man, "they were upon -the look-out for some particular person, I cannot say whom; for, either -satisfied by my answers, or having otherwise discovered their mistake, -they released me without taking anything from me but my sword, which, -however, I regret much, for it was my father's; and having blown the -priming from my pistols, they wished me the best of good luck, and so -we parted, without the smallest desire on my part to renew the -intimacy. And now, sir, you know just as much of the matter as I do -myself." - -"And a very serious matter it is, too," observed the stranger, with an -emphatic nod. "Landlord! a pint of mulled claret--and spice it as I -taught you--d'ye mind? A very grave matter--do you think you could -possibly identify those men?" - -"Identify them! how the devil could I?--it was dark as pitch--a cat -could not have seen them." - -"But was there no mark--no peculiarity discernible, even in the dense -obscurity--nothing about any of them, such as you might know again?" - -"Nothing--the very outline was indistinct. I could merely pee that they -were shaped like men." - -"Truly, truly, that is much to be lamented," said the elder gentleman; -"though fifty to one," he added, devoutly, "they'll hang one day or -another--let that console us. Meantime, here comes the claret." - -So saying, the new-comer rose from his seat, coolly removed his black -matted peruke from his shorn head, and replaced it by a dark velvet -cap, which he drew from some mysterious nook in his breeches pocket; -then, hanging the wig upon the back of his chair, he wheeled the seat -round to the table, and for the first time offered to his companion an -opportunity of looking him fairly in the face. If he were a believer in -the influence of first impressions, he had certainly acted wisely in -deferring the exhibition until the acquaintance had made some progress, -for his countenance was, in sober truth, anything but attractive--a -pair of grizzled brows overshadowed eyes of quick and piercing black, -rather small, and unusually restless and vivid--the mouth was wide, and -the jaw so much underhung as to amount almost to a deformity, giving to -the lower part of the face a character of resolute ferocity which was -not at all softened by the keen fiery glance of his eye; a massive -projecting forehead, marked over the brow with a deep scar, and -furrowed by years and thought, added not a little to the stern and -commanding expression of the face. The complexion was swarthy; and -altogether the countenance was one of that sinister and unpleasant kind -which the imagination associates with scenes of cruelty and terror, and -which might appropriately take a prominent place in the foreground of a -feverish dream. The young traveller had seen too many ugly sights, in -the course of a roving life of danger and adventure, to remember for a -moment the impression which his new companion's visage was calculated -to produce. They chatted together freely; and the elder (who, by the -way, exhibited no very strong Irish peculiarities of accent or idiom, -any more than did the other) when he bid his companion good-night, left -him under the impression that, however forbidding his aspect might be, -his physical disadvantages were more than counterbalanced by the -shrewd, quick sagacity, correct judgment, and wide range of experience -of which he appeared possessed. - - - - -CHAPTER II. - -A BED IN THE "COCK AND ANCHOR"--A LANTERN AND AN UGLY VISITOR BY THE -BEDSIDE. - - -Leaving the public room to such as chose to push their revels beyond -the modesty of midnight, our young friend betook himself to his -chamber; where, snugly deposited in one of the snuggest beds which the -"Cock and Anchor" afforded, with the ample tapestry curtains drawn from -post to post, while the rude wind buffeted the casements and moaned -through the antique chimney-tops, he was soon locked in the deep, -dreamless slumber of fatigue. - -How long this sweet oblivion may have lasted it was not easy to say; -some hours, however, had no doubt intervened, when the sleeper was -startled from his repose by a noise at his chamber door. The latch was -raised, and someone bearing a shaded light entered the room and -cautiously closed the door again. In the belief that the intruder was -some guest or domestic of the inn who either mistook the room or was -not aware of its occupation, the young man coughed once or twice -slightly in token of his presence, and observing that his signal had -not the desired effect, he inquired rather sharply,-- - -"Who is there?" - -The only answer returned was a long "Hist!" and forthwith the steps of -the unseasonable visitor were directed to the bedside. The person thus -disturbed had hardly time to raise himself half upright when the -curtains at one side were drawn apart, and by the imperfect light which -forced its way through the horn enclosure of a lantern, he beheld the -bronzed and sinister features of his fireside companion of the previous -evening. The stranger was arrayed for the road, with his cloak and -cocked hat on. Both parties, the visited and the visitor, for a time -remained silent and in the same fixed attitude. - -"Pray, sir," at length inquired the person thus abruptly intruded upon, -"to what special good fortune do I owe this most unlooked-for visit?" - -The elder man made no reply; but deliberately planted the large dingy -lantern which he carried upon the bed in which the young man lay. - -"You have tarried somewhat too long over the wine-cup," continued he, -not a little provoked at the coolness of the intruder. "This, sir, is -not your chamber; seek it elsewhere. I am in no mood to bandy jests. -You will consult your own ease as well as mine by quitting this room -with all dispatch." - -"Young gentleman," replied the elder man in a low, firm tone, "I have -used short ceremony in disturbing you thus. To judge from your face you -are no less frank than hardy. You will not require apologies when you -have heard me. When I last night sate with you I observed about you a -token long since familiar to me as the light--you wear it on your -finger--it is a diamond ring. That ring belonged to a dear friend of -mine--an old comrade and a tried friend in a hundred griefs and perils: -the owner was Richard O'Connor. I have not heard from him for ten years -or more. Can you say how he fares?" - -"The brave soldier and good man you have named was my father," replied -the young man, mournfully. - -"_Was!_" repeated the stranger. "Is he then no more--is he dead?" - -"Even so," replied the young man, sadly. - -"I knew it--I felt it. When I saw that jewel last night something smote -at my heart and told me, that the hand that wore it once was cold. Ah, -me! it was a friendly and a brave hand. Through all the wars of King -James" (and so saying he touched his hat) "we were together, companions -in arms and bosom friends. He was a comely man and a strong; no -hardship tired him, no difficulty dismayed him; and the merriest fellow -he was that ever trod on Irish ground. Poor O'Connor! in exile; away, -far away from the country he loved so well; among foreigners too. Well, -well, wheresoever they have laid thee, there moulders not a truer nor a -braver heart in the fields of all the world!" - -He paused, sighed deeply, and then continued,-- - -"Sorely, sorely are thine old comrades put to it, day by day, and night -by night, for comfort and for safety--sorely vexed and pillaged. -Nevertheless--over-ridden, and despised, and scattered as we are, -mercenaries and beggars abroad, and landless at home--still something -whispers in my ear that there will come at last a retribution, and such -a one as will make this perjured, corrupt, and robbing ascendency a -warning and a wonder to all after times. Is it a common thing, think -you, that all the gentlemen, all the chivalry of a whole country--the -natural leaders and protectors of the people--should be stripped of -their birthright, ay, even of the poor privilege of seeing in this -their native country, strangers possessing the inheritances which are -in _all_ right their own; cast abroad upon the world; soldiers of -fortune, selling their blood for a bare subsistence; many of them dying -of want; and all because for honour and conscience sake they refused to -break the oath which bound them to a ruined prince? Is it a slight -thing, think you, to visit with pains and penalties such as these, men -guilty of no crimes beyond those of fidelity and honour?" - -The stranger said this with an intensity of passion, to which the low -tone in which he spoke but gave an additional impressiveness. After a -short pause he again spoke,-- - -"Young gentleman," said he, "you may have heard your father--whom the -saints receive!--speak, when talking over old recollections, of one -Captain O'Hanlon, who shared with him the most eventful scenes of a -perilous time. He may, I say, have spoken of such a one." - -"He has spoken of him," replied the young man; "often, and kindly too." - -"I am that man," continued the stranger; "your father's old friend and -comrade; and right glad am I, seeing that I can never hope to meet him -more on this side the grave, to renew, after a kind, a friendship which -I much prized, now in the person of his son. Give me your hand, young -gentleman: I pledge you mine in the spirit of a tried and faithful -friendship. I inquire not what has brought you to this unhappy country; -I am sure it can be nothing which lies not within the eye of honour, so -I ask not concerning it; but on the contrary, I will tell you of myself -what may surprise you--what will, at least, show that I am ready to -trust you freely. You were stopped to-night upon the Southern road, -some ten miles from this. It was _I_ who stopped you!" - -O'Connor made a sudden but involuntary movement of menace; but without -regarding it, O'Hanlon continued,-- - -"You are astonished, perhaps shocked--you look so; but mind you, there -is some difference between _stopping_ men on the highway, and _robbing_ -them when you have stopped them. I took you for one who we were -informed would pass that way, and about the same hour--one who carried -letters from a pretended friend--one whom I have long suspected, a -half-faced, cold-hearted friend--carried letters, I say, from such a -one to the Castle here; to that malignant, perjured reprobate and -apostate, the so-called Lord Wharton--as meet an ornament for a gibbet -as ever yet made a feast for the ravens. I was mistaken: here is your -sword; and may you long wear it as well as he from whom it was -inherited." Here he raised the weapon, the blade of which he held in -his hand, and the young man saw it and the hilt flash and glitter in -the dusky light. "And take the advice of an old soldier, young friend," -continued O'Hanlon, "and when you are next, which I hope may not be for -many a long day, overpowered by odds and at their mercy, do not by -fruitless violence tempt them to disable you by a simpler and less -pleasant process than that of merely taking your sword and unpriming -your pistols. Many a good man has thrown away his life by such boyish -foolery. Upon the table by your bed you will in the morning find your -rapier, and God grant that it and you may long prove fortunate -companions!" He was turning to go, but recollecting himself, he added, -"One word before I go. I am known here as Mr. Dwyer--remember the name, -Dwyer--I am generally to be heard of in this place. Should you at any -time during your stay in this city require the assistance of a friend -who has a cheerful willingness to serve you, and who is not perhaps -altogether destitute of power, you have only to leave a billet in the -hand of the keeper of this inn, and if I be above ground it will reach -me--of course address it under the name I have last mentioned--and so, -young gentleman, fare you well." So saying, he grasped the hand of his -new friend, shook it warmly, and then, turning upon his heel, strode -swiftly to the door, and so departed, leaving O'Connor with so much -abruptness as not to allow him time to utter a question or remark on -what had passed. - -The excitement of the interview speedily passed away, the fatigues of -the preceding day were persuasively seconded by the soothing sound of -the now abated wind and by the utter darkness of the chamber, and the -young man was soon deep in the forgetfulness of sleep once more. When -the broad, red light of the morning sun broke cheerily into his room, -streaming through the chinks of the old shutters, and penetrating -through the voluminous folds of the vast curtains of rich, faded damask -which surmounted the huge hearse-like bed in which he lay, so as to -make its inmate aware that the hour of repose was past and that of -action come, O'Connor remembered the circumstances of the interview -which had been so strangely intruded upon him but as a dream; nor was -it until he saw the sword which he had believed irrecoverably lost -lying safely upon the table, that he felt assured that the visit and -its purport were not the creation of his slumbering fancy. In reply to -his questions when he descended, he was informed by mine host of the -"Cock and Anchor," that Mr. Dwyer had left the inn-yard upon his stout -hack, a good hour before daybreak. - - - - -CHAPTER III. - -THE LITTLE MAN IN BLUE AND SILVER. - - -Among the loungers who loitered at the door of the "Cock and Anchor," -as the day wore on, there appeared a personage whom it behoves us to -describe. This was a small man, with a very red face and little grey -eyes--he wore a cloth coat of sky blue, with here and there a piece of -silver lace laid upon it without much regard to symmetry; for the -scissors had evidently displaced far the greater part of the original -decorations, whose primitive distribution might be traced by the -greater freshness of the otherwise faded cloth which they had covered, -as well as by some stray threads, which stood like stubbles here and -there to mark the ravages of the sickle. One hand was buried in the -deep flap pocket of a waistcoat of the same hue and material, and -bearing also, in like manner, the evidences of a very decided -retrenchment in the article of silver lace. These symptoms of economy, -however, in no degree abated the evident admiration with which the -wearer every now and then stole a glance on what remained of its -pristine splendours--a glance which descended not ungraciously upon a -leg in whose fascinations its owner reposed an implicit faith. His -right hand held a tobacco-pipe, which, although its contents were not -ignited, he carried with a luxurious nonchalance ever and anon to the -corner of his mouth, where it afforded him sundry imaginary puffs--a -cheap and fanciful luxury, in which my Irish readers need not be told -their humbler countrymen, for lack of better, are wont to indulge. He -leaned against one of the stout wooden pillars on which the front of -the building was reared, and interlarded his economical pantomime of -pipe-smoking with familiar and easy conversation with certain of the -outdoor servants of the inn--a familiarity which argued not any sense -of superiority proportionate to the pretension of his attire. - -"And so," said the little man, turning with an aristocratic ease -towards a stout fellow in a jerkin, with bluff visage and folded arms, -who stood beside him, and addressing him in a most melodious -brogue--"and so, for sartain, you have but five single gintlemen in the -house--mind, I say _single_ gintlemen--for, divil carry me if ever I -take up with a _family_ again--it doesn't answer--it don't _shoot_ -me--I was never made for a family, nor a family for me--I can't stand -their b----y regularity; and--" with a sigh of profound sentiment, and -lowering his voice, he added--"and, the maid-sarvants--no, devil a -taste--they don't answer--they don't _shoot_. My disposition, Tom, is -tindher--tindher to imbecility--I never see a petticoat but it flutters -my heart--the short and the long of it is, I'm always falling in -love--and sometimes the passion is not retaliated by the object, and -more times it is--but, in both cases, I'm aiqually the victim--for my -intintions is always honourable, and of course nothin' comes of it. My -life was fairly frettin' away in a dhrame of passion among the -housemaids--I felt myself witherin' away like a flower in autumn--I was -losing my relish for everything, from bacon and table-dhrink -upwards--dangers were thickening round me--I had but one way to -execrate myself--I gave notice--I departed, and here I am." - -Having wound up the sentence, the speaker leaned forward and spat -passionately on the ground--a pause ensued, which was at length broken -by the same speaker. - -"Only two out of the five," said he, reflectively, "only two unprovided -with sarvants." - -"And neither of 'em," rejoined Tom, a blunt English groom, "very likely -to want one. The one is a lawyer, with a hack as lean as himself, and -more holes, I warrant, than half-pence in his breeches pocket. He's out -a-looking for lodgings, I take it." - -"He's not exactly what I want," rejoined the little man. "What's -th'other like?" - -"A gentleman, every inch, or _I'm_ no judge," replied the groom. "He -came last night, and as likely a bit of horseflesh under him as ever my -two hands wisped down. He chucked me a crown-piece this morning, as if -it had been no more nor a cockle shell--he did." - -"By gorra, he'll do!" exclaimed the little man energetically. "It's a -bargain--I'm his man." - -"Ay, but you mayn't answer, brother; he mayn't take you," observed Tom. - -"Wait a bit--_jist_ wait a bit, till he sees me," replied he of the -blue coat. - -"Ay, wait a bit," persevered the groom, coolly--"wait a bit, and when -he _does_ see you, it strikes me wery possible he mayn't like your -cut." - -"Not like my cut!" exclaimed the little man, as soon as he had -recovered breath; for the bare supposition of such an occurrence -involved in his opinion so utter and astounding a contradiction of all -the laws by which human antipathies and affections are supposed to be -regulated, that he felt for a moment as if his whole previous existence -had been a dream and an illusion. "Not like my _cut_!" - -"No," rejoined the groom, with perfect imperturbability. - -The little man deigned no other reply than that conveyed in a glance of -the most inexpressible contempt, which, having wandered over the person -and accoutrements of the unconscious Tom, at length settled upon his -own lower extremities, where it gradually softened into a gaze of -melancholy complacency, while he muttered, with a pitying smile, "Not -like my cut--not like it!" and then, turning majestically towards the -groom, he observed, with laconic dignity,-- - -"I humbly consave the gintleman has an eye in his head." - -This rebuke had hardly been administered when the subject of their -conference in person passed from the inn into the street. - -"There he goes," observed Tom. - -"And here _I_ go after him," added the candidate for a place; and in a -moment he was following O'Connor with rapid steps through the narrow -streets of the town, southward. It occurred to him, as he hurried after -his intended master, that it might not be amiss to defer his interview -until they were out of the streets, and in some more quiet place; nor -in all probability would he have disturbed himself at all to follow the -young gentleman, were it not that even in the transient glimpse which -he had had of the person and features of O'Connor, the little man -thought, and by no means incorrectly, that he recognized the form of -one whom he had often seen before. - -"That's Mr. O'Connor, as sure as my name's Larry Toole," muttered the -little man, half out of breath with his exertions--"an' it's himself'll -be proud to get me. I wondher what he's afther now. I'll soon see, at -any rate." - -Thus communing within himself, Larry alternately walked and trotted to -keep the chase in view. He might very easily have come up with the -object of his pursuit, for on reaching St. Patrick's Cathedral, -O'Connor paused, and for some minutes contemplated the old building. -Larry, however, did not care to commence his intended negotiation in -the street; he purposed giving him rope enough, having, in truth, no -peculiar object in following him at that precise moment, beyond the -gratification of an idle curiosity; he therefore hung back until -O'Connor was again in motion, when he once more renewed his pursuit. - -O'Connor had soon passed the smoky precincts of the town, and was now -walking at a slackened pace among the green fields and the trees, all -clothed in the rich melancholy hues of early autumn. The evening sun -was already throwing its mellow tint on all the landscape, and the -lengthening shadows told how far the day was spent. In the transition -from the bustle of a town to the lonely quiet of the country at -eventide, and especially at that season of the year when decay begins -to sadden the beauties of nature, there is something at once soothing -and unutterably melancholy. Leaving behind the glare, and dust, and -hubbub of the town, who has not felt in his inmost heart the still -appeal of nature? The saddened beauty of sear autumn, enhanced by the -rich and subdued light of gorgeous sunset--the filmy mist--the -stretching shadows--the serene quiet, broken only by rural sounds, more -soothing even than silence--all these, contrasted with the sounds and -sights of the close, restless city, speak tenderly and solemnly to the -heart of man of the beauty of creation, of the goodness of God, and, -along with these, of the mournful condition of all nature--change, -decay, and death. Such thoughts and feelings, stealing in succession -upon the heart, touch, one by one, the springs of all our sublimest -sympathies, and fill the mind with the beautiful sense of brotherhood, -under God, with all nature. Under the not unpleasing influence of such -suggestions, O'Connor slackened his pace to a slow irregular walk, -which sorely tried the patience of honest Larry Toole. - -"After all," exclaimed that worthy, "it's nothin' more nor less than an -evening walk he's takin', God bless the mark! What business have I -followin' him? unless--see--sure enough he's takin' the short cut to -the manor. By gorra, this is worth mindin'--I must not folly him, -however--I don't want to meet the family--so here I'll plant myself -until sich times as he's comin' back again." - -So saying, Larry Toole clambered to the top of the grassy embankment -which fenced the road, and seating himself between a pair of aged -hawthorn-trees, he watched young O'Connor as he followed the wanderings -of a wild bridle-road until he was at length fairly hidden from view by -the intervening trees and brushwood. - - - - -CHAPTER IV. - -A SCARLET HOOD AMONG THE OLD TREES--THE MANOR OF MORLEY COURT--AND A -PEEP INTO AN ANTIQUE CHAMBER. - - -The path which O'Connor followed was one of those quiet and pleasant -by-roads which, in defiance of what are called improvements, are still -to be discovered throughout Ireland here and there, in some unsuspected -region, winding their green and sequestered ways through many a varied -scene of rural beauty; and, unless when explored by some chance -fisherman or tourist, unknown to all except the poor peasant to whose -simple conveniences they minister. - -Low and uneven embankments, overgrown by a thousand kinds of weeds and -wild flowers and brushwood, marked the boundaries of this rustic -pathway, but in so friendly a sort, and with so little jealousy or -exclusion, that they seemed designed rather to lend a soft and -sheltered resting-place to the tired traveller than to check the -wayward excursions of the idle rambler into the merry fields and -woodlands through which it wound. On either side the tall, hoary trees, -like time-worn pillars, reared their grey, moss-grown trunks and -arching branches, now but thinly clothed with the discoloured foliage -of autumn, and casting their long shadows in the evening sun far over -the sloping and unequal sward. The scene, the hour, and the loneliness -of the place, would of themselves have been enough to induce a pensive -train of thought; but, beyond the silence and seclusion, and the -falling of the leaves in their eternal farewell, and all the other -touching signs of nature's beautiful decay, there were deep in -O'Connor's breast recollections and passions with which the scene -before him was more nearly associated, than with the ordinary -suggestions of fantastic melancholy. - -At some distance from this road, and half hidden among the trees, there -stood an old and extensive building, chiefly of deep red brick, -presenting many and varied fronts and quaint gables, antique-fashioned -casements, and whole groups of fantastic chimneys, sending up their -thin curl of smoke into the still air, and glinting tall and red in the -declining sun; while the dusky hue of the old bricks was every here and -there concealed under rich mantles of dark, luxuriant ivy, which, in -some parts of the structure, had not only mounted to the summits of the -wall, but clambered, in rich profusion, over the steep roof, and even -to the very chimney tops. This antique building--rambling, massive, and -picturesque in no ordinary degree--might well have attracted the -observation of the passer-by, as it presented in succession, through -the irregular vistas of the rich old timber, now one front, now -another, alternately hidden and revealed as the point of observation -was removed. But the eyes of O'Connor sought this ancient mansion, and -dwelt upon its ever-varying aspects, as he pursued his way, with an -interest more deep and absorbing than that of mere curiosity or -admiration; and as he slowly followed the grass-grown road, a thousand -emotions and remembrances came crowding upon his mind, impetuous, -passionate, and wild, but all tinged with a melancholy which even the -strong and sanguine heart of early manhood could not overcome. As the -path proceeded, it became more closely sheltered by the wild bushes and -trees, and its windings grew more wayward and frequent, when on a -sudden, from behind a screen of old thorns which lay a little in -advance, a noble dog, of the true old Irish wolf breed, came bounding -towards him, with every token of joy and welcome. - -"Rover, Rover--down, boy, down," said the stranger, as the huge animal, -in his boisterous greeting, leaped upon him again and again, flinging -his massive paws upon his shoulders, and thrusting his cold nose into -his bosom--"down, Rover, down." - -The first transport of welcome past, the noble dog waited to receive -from his old friend some marks of recognition in return, and then, -swinging his long tail from side to side, away he sprang, as if to -carry the joyful tidings to the companion of his evening ramble. - -O'Connor knew that some of those whom he should not have chosen to meet -just then or there were probably within a stone's throw of the spot -where he now stood, and for a moment he was strongly tempted to turn, -and, if so it might be, unobserved to retrace his steps. The close -screen of wild trees which overshadowed the road would have rendered -this design easy of achievement; but while he was upon the point of -turning to depart, a few notes of some wild and simple Irish melody, -carelessly lilted by a voice of silvery sweetness, floated to his ear. -Every cadence and vibration of _that_ voice was to him enchantment--he -could not choose but pause. The sweet sounds were interrupted by a -rustling among the withered leaves which strewed the ground. Again the -fine old dog made his appearance, dashing joyously along the path -towards him, and following in his wake, with slow and gentle steps, -came a light and graceful female form. On her shoulders rested a short -mantle of scarlet cloth; the hood was thrown partially backward, so as -to leave the rich dark ringlets to float freely in the light breeze of -evening; the faintest flush imaginable tinged the clear paleness of her -cheek, giving to her exquisitely beautiful features a lustre, whose -richness did not, however, subdue their habitual and tender melancholy. -The moment the full dark eyes of the girl encountered O'Connor, the -song died away upon her lips--the colour fled from her cheeks, and as -instantaneously the sudden paleness was succeeded by a blush of such -depth and brilliancy as threw far into shade even the brightest imagery -of poetic fancy. - -"Edmond!" she exclaimed, in a tone so faint and low as scarcely to -reach his ear, and which yet thrilled to his very heart. - -"Yes, Mary--it is, indeed, Edmond O'Connor," answered he, passionately -and mournfully--"come, after long years of separation, over many a mile -of sea and land--unlooked-for, and, mayhap, unwished-for--come once -more to see you, and, in seeing you, to be happy, were it but for a -moment--come to tell you that he loves you fondly, passionately as -ever--come to ask you, dear, dear Mary, if you, too, are unchanged?" - -As he thus spoke, standing by her side, O'Connor gazed on the sad, -sweet face of her he loved so well, and held that little hand, which he -would have given worlds to call his own. The beautiful girl was too -artless to disguise her agitation. She would have spoken, but the -effort was vain--the tears gathered in her dark eyes, and fell faster -and faster, till at length the fruitless struggle ceased, and she wept -long and bitterly. - -"Oh! Edmond," said she, at length, raising her eyes sorrowfully and -fondly to O'Connor's face--"what has called you hither? We two should -hardly have met now or thus." - -"Dear Mary," answered he, with melancholy fervour, "since last I held -this loved hand, years have passed away--three long years and more--in -which we two have never met--in which you scarce have even heard of me. -Mary, three years bring many changes--changes irreparable. Time--which -has, if it were possible, made you more beautiful even than when I saw -you last--may yet have altered earlier feelings, and turned your heart -from me. Were it so, Mary, I would not seek to blame you. I am not so -vain--your rank--your great attractions--your surpassing beauty, must -have won many admirers--drawn many suitors round you; and I--I, among -all these, may well have been forgotten--I, whose best merit is but in -loving you beyond my life. I will not, then--I will not, Mary, ask if -you love me still: but coming thus unbidden and unlooked-for, am I -forgiven--am I welcome, Mary?" - -The artless girl looked up in his face with such a beautiful smile of -trust and love as told more in one brief moment than language could in -volumes. - -"Yes, Mary," said O'Connor, reading that smile aright, with swelling -heart and proud devotion; "yes, Mary. I am remembered--you are still my -own--my own: true, faithful, unchanged, in spite of years of time and -leagues of separation; in spite of all!--my true-hearted, my adored, my -own!" - -He spoke; and in the fulness of their hearts they were both for a while -silent, each gazing on the other in the rapt tenderness of long-tried -love--in the deep, guileless joy of this chance meeting. - -"Hear me," he whispered, lower almost than the murmur of the breeze -through the arching boughs above them, as if fearful that even a breath -would trouble the still enchantment that held them spell-bound: "hear -me, for I have much to tell. The years that have passed since I spoke -to you before have brought to me their store of good and ill, of sorrow -and of hope. I have many things to tell you, Mary; much that gives me -hope--the cheeriest hope--even that of overcoming Sir Richard's -opposition! Ay, Mary, reasonable hope; and why? Because I am no longer -poor: an old friend of my father's, Mr. Audley, has taken me by the -hand, adopted me, made me his heir--the heir to riches and possessions -which even your father will allow to be considerable--which he well may -think enough to engage his prudence in favour of our union. In this -hope, dearest, I am here. I daily expect the arrival of my generous -friend and benefactor; and with him I will go to your father and urge -my suit once more, and with God's blessing at last prevail--but hark! -some one comes." - -Even while he spoke, the lovers were startled by the sound of voices in -gay colloquy, approaching along the quiet by-road on which they stood. - -"Leave me, Edmond, leave me," said the beautiful girl, with earnest -entreaty; "they must not see you with me now." - -"Farewell then, dearest, since it must be so," replied O'Connor, as he -pressed her hand closely in his own; "but meet me to-morrow -evening--meet me by the old gate in the beech-tree walk, at the hour -when you used to walk there. Nay, refuse me not, Mary. Farewell, -farewell till then!" and so saying, before she had time to frame an -answer, he turned from her, and was quickly lost among the trees and -underwood which skirted the pathway. - -In the speakers who approached, the young lady at once recognized her -brother, Henry Ashwoode, and Emily Copland, her pretty cousin. The -young man was handsome alike in face and figure, slightly made, and -bearing in his carriage that indescribable air of aristocratic birth -and pretension which sits not ungracefully upon a handsome person; his -countenance, too, bore a striking resemblance to that of his sister, -and, allowing for the difference of sex, resembled it as nearly as any -countenance which had never expressed a passion but such as had its aim -and origin alike in _self_, could do. He was dressed in the extreme of -the prevailing fashion; and altogether his outward man was in all -respects such as to justify his acknowledged pretensions to be -considered one of the prettiest men in the then gay city of Dublin. The -young lady who accompanied him was, in all points except in that of -years, as unlike her cousin, Mary Ashwoode, as one pretty girl could -well be to another. She was very fair; had a quick, clear eye, which -carried in its glance something more than mere mirth or vivacity; an -animated face, with, however, something of a bold, and at times even of -a haughty expression. Laughing and chatting in light, careless gaiety, -the youthful pair approached the spot where Mary Ashwoode stood. - -"So, so, fair sister," cried the young man, gaily, "alone and musing, -and doubtless melancholy. Shall we venture to approach her, Emily?" - -Women have keener eyes in small matters than men; and Miss Copland at a -glance perceived her fair cousin's flushed cheek and embarrassed -manner. - -"Angels and ministers of grace defend us!" cried she; "the girl has -certainly seen a ghost or a dragoon officer." - -"Neither, I assure you, cousin," replied Miss Ashwoode, with an effort; -"my evening's ramble has not extended beyond this spot; and as yet I've -seen no monster more alarming than my brother's new periwig." - -The young man bowed. - -"Nay, nay," cried Miss Copland, "but I must hear it. There certainly is -some awful mystery at the bottom of all these conscious looks; but -_apropos_ of awful mysteries," continued she, turning to young -Ashwoode, half in pity for Mary's increasing embarrassment; "where _is_ -Major O'Leary? What has become of your amusing old uncle?" - -"That's more than _I_ can tell," replied the young man; "I wash my -hands of the scapegrace. I know nothing of him. I saw him for a moment -in town this morning, and he promised, with a round dozen of oaths, to -be out to dine with us to-day. Thus much _you_ know, and thus much _I_ -know; for the rest, having sins enough of my own to carry, as I said -before, I wash my hands of him and his." - -"Well, now remember, Henry," continued she, "I make it a point with you -to bring him out here to-morrow. In sober seriousness I can't get on -without him. It is a melancholy and a terrible truth, but still one -which I feel it my duty to speak boldly, that Major O'Leary is the only -gallant and susceptible man in the family." - -"Monstrous assertion?" exclaimed the young man; "why, not to mention -myself, the acknowledged pink and perfection of everything that is -irresistible, have you not the perfect command of my worthy cousin, -Arthur Blake?" - -"Now don't put me in a passion, Henry," exclaimed the girl. "How dare -you mention that wretch--that irreclaimable, unredeemed fox-hunter. He -never talks, nor thinks, nor dreams of anything but dogs and badgers, -foxes and other vermin. I verily believe he never yet was seen off a -horse's back, except sometimes in a stable--he is an absolute Irish -centaur! And then his odious attempts at finery--his elaborate, -perverse vulgarity--the perpetual pinching and mincing of his words! An -off-hand, shameless brogue I can endure--a brogue that revels and -riots, and defies the world like your uncle O'Leary's, I can respect -and even admire--but a brogue in a strait waistcoat----" - -"Well, well," rejoined the young man, laughing, "though you may not -find any sprout of the _family_ tree, excepting Major O'Leary, worthy -to contribute to your laudable requirements; yet surely you have a very -fair catalogue of young and able-bodied gentlemen among our neighbours. -What say you to young Lloyd--he lives within a stone's throw. He is a -most proper, pious, and punctual young gentleman; and would make, I -doubt not, a most devout and exemplary _'Cavalier servente_.'" - -"Worse and worse," cried the young lady despondingly; "the most -domestic, stupid, affectionate, invulnerable wretch. He never flirts -out of his own family, and then, for charity I believe, with the oldest -and ugliest. He is the very person for whose special case the rubric -provided that no man shall marry his grandmother." - -"My fair cousin," replied the young man, laughing, "I see you are hard -to please. Meanwhile, sweet ladies both, let me remind you that the sun -has just set; we must make our way homeward--at least _I_ must. By the -way, can I do anything in town for you this evening, beyond a tender -message to my reverend uncle?" - -"Dear me," exclaimed Miss Copland, "you have not passed an evening at -home this age. What _can_ you want, morning, noon, and night in that -smoky, dirty town?" - -"Why, the fact is," replied the young man, "business must be done; I -positively must attend two routs to-night." - -"Whose routs--what are they?" inquired the young lady. - -"One is Mrs. Tresham's, the other Lady Stukely's." - -"I _guessed_ that ugly old kinswoman of mine was at the bottom of it," -exclaimed the young lady with great vivacity. "Lady Stukely--that -pompous, old, frightful goose!--she has laid herself out to seduce you, -Harry; but don't let that dismay you, for ten to one if you fall, -she'll make an honest man of you in the end and marry you. Only think, -Mary, what a sister you shall have," and the young lady laughed -heartily, and then added, "There are some excellent, worthy, abominable -people, who seem made expressly to put one in a passion--perpetual -appeals to one's virtuous indignation. Now do, Henry, for goodness -sake, if a matrimonial catastrophe must come, choose at least some -nymph with less rouge and wrinkles than poor dear Lady Stukely." - -"Kind cousin, thyself shalt choose for me," answered the young man; -"but pray, suffer me to be at large for a year or two more. I would -fain live and breathe a little, before I go down into the matrimonial -pit and be no more seen. But let us mend our pace, the evening turns -chill." - -Thus chatting carelessly, they moved towards the large brick building -which we have already described, embowered among the trees; where -arrived, the young man forthwith applied himself to prepare for a night -of dissipation, and the young ladies to get through a dull evening as -best they might. - -The two fair cousins sate in a large, old-fashioned drawing-room; the -walls were covered with elaborately-wrought tapestry representing, in a -manner sufficiently grim and alarming, certain scenes from Ovid's -Metamorphoses; a cheerful fire blazed in the capacious hearth; and the -cumbrous mantelpiece was covered with those grotesque and monstrous -china figures, misnamed ornaments, which were then beginning to find -favour in the eyes of fashion. Abundance of richly carved furniture was -disposed variously throughout the room. The young ladies sate by a -small table on which lay some books and materials for work, placed near -the fire. They occupied each one of those huge, high-backed, and -well-stuffed chairs in which it is a mystery how our ancestors could -sit and remain awake. Both were silently occupied with their own busy -reflections; and it was not until the rapid clank of the horse's hoofs -upon the pavement underneath the windows, as young Ashwoode started -upon his night ride to the city, rose sharp and clear, that Miss -Copland, waking from her reverie, exclaimed,-- - -"Well, sweet coz, were ever so woebegone and desolate a pair of -damsels. The only available male creature in the establishment, with -the exception of Sir Richard, who has actually gone to bed, has fairly -turned his back upon us." - -"Dear Emily," replied her cousin, "pray be serious. I wish to tell you -what has passed this evening. You observed my confusion and agitation -when you and Henry overtook me." - -"Why, to be sure I did," replied the young lady; "and now, like an -honest coz, you are going to tell me all about it." She drew her chair -nearer as she spoke. "Come, my dear, tell me everything--what was your -discovery? Come, now, there's a good girl, do confess." So saying she -threw one arm round her cousin's neck and laid the other in her lap, -looking curiously into her face the while. - -"Oh! Emily, I have seen him!" exclaimed Miss Ashwoode, with an effort. - -"Seen _him_!--seen whom?--old Nick, if I may judge from your looks. -Whom _have_ you seen, dear?" eagerly inquired Miss Copland. - -"I have seen Edmond O'Connor," answered she. - -"Edmond O'Connor!" repeated the girl in unfeigned surprise, "why, I -thought he was in France, eating frogs and dancing cotillons. What has -brought him here?--why, he'll be taken for a spy and executed on the -spot. But seriously, can you conceive anything more rash and ill-judged -than his coming over just now?" - -"It is indeed, I greatly fear, very rash," replied the young lady; "he -is resolved to speak with my father once more." - -"And your father in such a precious ill-humour just at this precise -moment," exclaimed Miss Copland. "I never _was_ so much afraid of Sir -Richard as I have been for the last two days; he has been a perfect -bruin--begging your pardon, my dear girl--but even _you_ must admit, -let filial piety and all the cardinal virtues say what they will, that -whenever Sir Richard is recovering from a fit of the gout he is nothing -short of a perfect monster. I wager my diamond cross to a thimble, that -he breaks the poor young man's head the moment he comes within reach of -him. But jesting apart, I fear, my dear cousin, that my uncle is in no -mood just now to listen to heroics." - -A sharp knocking upon the floor immediately above the chamber in which -the young ladies sate, interrupted the conference at this juncture. - -"There is my father's signal--he wants me," exclaimed Miss Ashwoode, -and rising as she spoke, without more ado she ran to render the -required attendance. - -"Strange girl," exclaimed Miss Copland, as her cousin's step was heard -ascending the stairs, "strange girl!--she is the veriest simpleton I -ever yet encountered. All this fuss to marry a fellow who is, in plain -words, little better than a beggarman--a good-looking beggarman, to be -sure, but still a beggar. Oh, Mary, simple Mary! I am very much tempted -to despise you--there is certainly something _wrong_ about you! I hate -to see people without ambition enough even to wish to keep their own -natural position. The girl is full of nonsense; but what's that to me? -she'll _un_learn it all one day; but I'm much afraid, simple cousin, a -little too late." - -Having thus soliloquized, she called her maid, and retired for the -night to her chamber. - - - - -CHAPTER V. - -OF O'CONNOR'S MOONLIGHT WALK TO THE "COCK AND ANCHOR," AND WHAT BEFELL -HIM BY THE WAY. - - -As soon as O'Connor had made some little way from the scene of his -sudden and agitating interview with Miss Ashwoode, he slackened his -pace, and with slow steps began to retrace his way toward the city. So -listless and interrupted was his progress, that the sun had descended, -and twilight was fast melting into darkness before he reached that -point in the road at which diverged the sequestered path which he had -followed. As he approached the spot, he observed a small man, with a -pipe in his mouth, and his person arranged in an attitude of ease and -graceful negligence, admirably calculated to exhibit the symmetry and -perfection of his bodily proportions. This man had planted himself in -the middle of the road, so as completely to command the pass, and, as -our reader need scarcely be informed, was no other than Larry -Toole--the important personage to whom we have already introduced him. - -As O'Connor approached, Larry advanced, with a slow and dignified -motion, to receive him: and removing his pipe from his mouth with a -_nonchalant_ air, he compressed the lighted contents of the bowl with -his finger, and then deposited the utensil in his coat pocket, at the -same time, executing, in a very becoming manner, his most courtly bow. -Somewhat surprised, and by no means pleasantly, at an interruption of -so unlooked-for a kind, O'Connor observed, impatiently, "I have neither -time nor temper, friend, to suffer delay or listen to foolery;" and -observing that Larry was preparing to follow him, he added curtly, "I -desire no company, sirrah, and choose to be alone." - -"An' it's exactly because you wish to be alone, and likes solitude," -observed the little man, "that you and me will shoot, being formed by -the bountiful hand iv nature, barrin' a few small exceptions,"--here he -glanced complacently at his right leg, which was a little in advance of -its companion--"as similiar as two eggs." - -Being in no mood to tolerate, far less to encourage this annoying -intrusion, O'Connor pursued his way at a quickened pace, and in -obstinate silence, and in a little time exhibited a total and very -mortifying forgetfulness of Mr. Toole's bodily proximity. That -gentleman, however, was not so easily to be shaken off--he -perseveringly followed, keeping a pace or two behind. - -"It's parfectly unconthrovertible," pursued that worthy, with -considerable solemnity and emphasis, "and at laste as plain as the nose -on your face, that you haven't the smallest taste of a conciption who -it is you're spakin' too, Mr. O'Connor." - -"And pray who may you be, friend?" inquired he, somewhat surprised at -being thus addressed by name. - -"Who else would I be, your honour," rejoined the persevering -applicant--"who else _could_ I be, if you had but a glimmer iv light to -contemplate my forrum and fatures, but Laurence Toole--called by the -men for the most part _Misthur_ Toole, and (he added in a softened -tone) by the girls most commonly designated Larry." - -"Ha--Larry--Larry Toole!" exclaimed O'Connor, half reconciled to an -intrusion up to that moment so ill endured. "Well, Larry, tell me -briefly how are the family at the manor, yonder?" - -"Why, plase your honour," rejoined Larry, promptly, "the ould masthur, -that's Sir Richard, is much oftener gouty than good-humoured, and -more's the pity. I b'lieve he's breaking down very fast, and small -blame to him, for he lived hard, like a rale honourable gentleman. An' -then, the young masthur, that's Masthur Henry--but you didn't know him -so well--he's getting on at the divil's rate--scatt'ring guineas like -small shot. They say he plays away a power of money; and he and the -masthur himself has often hard words enough between them about the way -things is goin' on; but he ates and dhrinks well, an' the health he -gets is as good as he wants for his purposes." - -"Well--but your young mistress," suggested O'Connor--"you have not told -me yet how Miss Ashwoode has been ever since. How have her health and -spirits been--has she been well?" - -"Mixed middlin', like belly bacon," replied Mr. Toole, with an air of -profound sympathy--"shilly-shally, sir--off an' on, like an April -day--sometimes atin' her victuals, sometimes lavin' them--no sartainty. -I think the ould masthur's gout and crossness, and the young one's -vagaries, is frettin' her; and it's sorry I am to see it. An' there's -Miss Emily--that's Miss Copland--a rale jovial slip iv a young lady. I -think you've seen her once or twice up at the manor; but now, since her -father, the ould General, died, she is stayin' for good with the -family. She's a fine lady, and" (drawing close to O'Connor, and -speaking with very significant emphasis) "she has ten thousand pounds -of her own--do you mind me, ten thousand--it's a good fortune--is not -it, sir?" - -He paused for a moment, and receiving no answer, which he interpreted -as a sign that the announcement was operating as it ought, he added -with a confidential wink-- - -"I thought I might as well put you up to it, you know, for no one knows -where a blessin' may light." - -"Larry," said O'Connor, after a considerable silence, somewhat abruptly -and suddenly recollecting the presence of that little person--"if you -have aught to say to me, speak it quickly. What may your business be?" - -"Why, sir," replied he, "the long and short of it is, I left Sir -Richard more than a week since. Not that I was turned away--no, Mr. -O'Connor," continued Mr. Toole, with edifying majesty, "no sich thing -at all in the wide world. My resignation, sir, was the fruit of my own -solemn convictions--for the five years I was with the family, I had no -comfort, or aise, or pace. I may as well spake plain to you, sir, for -_you_, like myself, is young"--Mr. Toole was certainly at the wrong -side of fifty--"you can aisily understand me, sir, when I say that I'm -the victim iv romance, bad cess to it--romance, sir; my buzzam, sir, -was always open to tindher impressions--impressions, sir, that came -into it as natural as pigs into a pittaty garden. I could not shut them -out--the short and the long iv it is, I was always fallin' in love, -since I was the size iv a quart pot--eternally fallin' in love." Mr. -Toole sighed, and then resumed. "I done my best to smother my emotions, -but passion, sir, young and ardent passion, is impossible to be -suppressed: you might as well be trying to keep strong beer in starred -bottles durin' the pariod iv the dog days. But I never knew rightly -what love was all out, in rale, terrible perfection, antil Mistress -Betsy came to live in the family. I'll not attempt to describe -her--it's enough to say she fixed my affections, and done for myself. -She is own maid to the young mistress. I need not expectorate upon the -progress iv my courtship--it's quite enough to observe, that for a -considherable time my path was strewed with flowers, antil a young -chap--an English bliggard, one Peter Clout--an' it's many's the clout -he got, the Lord be thanked for that same!--a lump iv a chap ten times -as ugly as the divil, and without more shapes about him than a pound of -cruds--an impittant, ignorant, presumptious, bothered, bosthoon--antil -this gentleman--this Misthur Peter Clout, made his b----y appearance; -then all at once the divil's delight began. Betsy--the lovely Betsy -Carey--the lovely, the vartious, the beautiful, and the exalted--began -to play thricks. I know she was in love with me--over head and ears, as -bad as myself--but woman is a mystarious agent, an' bangs Banagher. -Long as I've been larnin', I never could larn why it is they take -delight in tormentin' the tindher-hearted." - -This reflection was uttered in a tone of tender woe, and the speaker -paused for some symptom of assent from his auditor. It is, however, -hardly necessary to say that he paused in vain. O'Connor had enough to -occupy his mind; and so far from listening to his companion's -narrative, he was scarcely conscious that Mr. Toole, in bodily -presence, was walking beside him. That "tindher-hearted" individual -accordingly resumed the thread of his discourse. - -"But, at any rate, she laid herself out to make me jealous of Peter -Clout; and, with the blessin' iv the divil, she succeeded complately. -Things were going on this way--she lettin' on to be mighty fond iv -Peter, an' me gettin' angrier an' angrier, and Mr. Clout more an' more -impittent every day, antill I seen there was no use in purtendin'; so -one mornin' when we were both of us--myself and Mr. Peter -Clout--clainin' up the things in the pantry, I thought I might as well -have a bit iv discourse with him--when I seen, do ye mind, there was no -use in mortifyin' the chap with contempt, for I did not spake to him, -good, bad, or indifferent, for more than a fortnight, an' he was so -ignorant and unmannerly he never noticed the differ. When I seen there -was no use in keepin' him at a distance, says I to him one day in the -panthry--'Mr. Clout,' says I, 'your conduct in regard iv some persons -in this house,' says I, 'is iv a description that may be shuitable to -the English spalpeens,' says I, 'but is about as like the conduct of a -gintleman,' says I, 'as blackin' is to plate powder.' So he turns -round, an' he looks at me as if I was a Pollyphamius. 'Mind your work,' -says I, 'young man, an' don't be lookin' at me as if I was a hathian -godess,' says I. 'It's Mr. Toole that's speakin' to you, an' you -betther mind what he says. The long an' the short iv it is, I don't -like you to be hugger-muggering with a sartain delicate famale in this -establishment; an' if I catch you talkin' any more to Misthress Betsy -Carey, I give you fair notice, it's at your own apparel. Beware of -me--for as sure as you don't behave to my likin', you might as well be -in the one panthry with a hyania,' says I, an' it was thrue for me, an' -it was the same way with my father before me, an' all the Tooles up to -the time of Noah's ark. In pace I'm a turtle-dove all out; but once I'm -riz, I'm a rale tarin' vulture." - -Here Mr. Toole paused to call up a look, and after a grim shake of the -head, he resumed. - -"Things went on aisy enough for a day or two, antill I happened to walk -into the sarvants' hall, an' who should I see but Mr. Clout sittin' on -the same stool with Misthriss Betsy, an' his arm round her waist--so -when I see that, before any iv them could come between us, with the -fair madness I made one jump at him, an' we both had one another by the -windpipe before you'd have time to bless yourself. Well, round an' -round we went, rowlin' with our heads and backs agin the walls, an' -divil a spot of us but was black an' blue, antill we kem to the -chimney; an' sure enough when we did, down we rowled both together, -glory be to God! into the fire, an' upset a kittle iv wather on top iv -us; an' with that there was sich a screechin' among the women, an' -maybe a small taste from ourselves, that the masthur kem in, an' if he -didn't lay on us with his walkin' stick it's no matter; but, at any -rate, as soon as we recovered from the scaldin' an' the bruises. _I_ -retired, an' the English chap was turned away; an' that's the whole -story, an' I tuk my oath that I'll never go into sarvice in a _family_ -again. I can't make any hand of women--they're made for desthroyin' all -sorts iv pace iv mind--they're etarnally triflin' with the most sarious -and sacred emotions. I'll never sarve any but single gentlemen from -this out, if I was to be sacrificed for it--never a bit, by the hokey!" - -So saying, Mr. Toole, having, in the course of his harangue, reproduced -his pipe from his pocket, with a view to flourish it in emphatic -accompaniment with the cadences of his voice, smote the bowl of it upon -the edge of his cocked hat, which he held in his hand, with so much -passion, that the head of the pipe flew across the road, and was for -ever lost among the docks and nettles. One glance he deigned to the -stump which remained in his hand, and then, with an air of romantic -recklessness which laughs at all sacrifices, he flung it disdainfully -from him, clapped his cocked hat upon his head with a vehemence which -brought it nearly to the bridge of his nose, and, planting his hands in -his breeches pockets, he glanced at the stars with a scowl which, if -they take any note of things terrestrial, must have filled them with -alarm. - -Suddenly recollecting himself, Mr. Toole perceived that his intended -master, having walked on, had left him considerably behind; he -therefore put himself into an easy amble, which speedily brought him up -with the chase. - -"Mr. O'Connor, plase your honour," he exclaimed, "sure it's not -possible it's goin' to lave me behind you are, an' me so proud iv your -company; an', moreover, after axin' you for a situation--that is, -always supposin' you want the sarvices iv a rale dashin' young fellow, -that's up to everything, an' willing to sarve you in any incapacity. -An' by gorra, sir," continued he, pathetically, "it's next door to a -charity to take me, for I've but one crown in the wide world left, an' -I must change it to-night; an' once I change money, the shillin's makes -off with themselves like a hat full of sparrows into the elements, the -Lord knows where." - -With a desolate recklessness, he chucked the crown-piece into the air, -caught it in his palm, and walked silently on. - -"Well, well," said O'Connor, "if you choose to make so uncertain an -engagement as for the term of my stay in Dublin, you are welcome to be -my servant for so long." - -"It's a bargain," shouted Mr. Toole--"a bargain, plase your honour, -done and done on both sides. I'm your man--hurra!" - -They had already entered the suburbs, and before many minutes were -involved in the dark and narrow streets, threading their way, as best -they might, toward the genial harbourage of the "Cock and Anchor." - - - - -CHAPTER VI. - -THE SOLDIER--THE NIGHT RAMBLE--AND THE WINDOW THAT LET IN MORE THAN THE -MOONLIGHT. - - -Short as had been O'Connor's sojourn, it nevertheless had been -sufficiently long to satisfy mine host of the "Cock and Anchor," an -acute observer in such particulars, that whatever his object might have -been in avoiding the more fashionably frequented inns of the city, -economy at least had no share in his motive. O'Connor, therefore, had -hardly entered the public room of the inn, when a servant respectfully -informed him that a private chamber was prepared for his reception, if -he desired to occupy it. The proposition suited well with his temper at -the minute, and with all alacrity he followed the waiter, who bowed him -upstairs and through a dingy passage into a room whose claims, if not -to elegance, at least to comfort, could hardly have been equalled, -certainly not excelled, by the more luxurious pretensions of most -modern hotels. - -It was a large, capacious chamber, nearly square, wainscoted with dark -shining wood, and decorated with certain dingy old pictures, which -might have been, for anything to the contrary, appearing in so -uncertain a light, _chefs d'oeuvre_ of the mighty masters of the olden -time: at all events, they looked as warm and comfortable as if they -were. The hearth was broad, deep, and high enough to stable a Kerry -pony, and was surmounted by a massive stone mantelpiece, rudely but -richly carved--abundance of old furniture--tables, at which the saintly -Cromwell might have smoked and boozed, and chairs old enough to have -supported Sir Walter Raleigh himself, were disposed about the room with -a profuseness which argued no niggard hospitality. A pair of wax-lights -burned cheerily upon a table beside the bright crackling fire which -blazed in the huge cavity of the hearth; and O'Connor threw himself -into one of those cumbrons, tall-backed, and well-stuffed chairs, which -are in themselves more potent invitations to the sweet illusive -visitings from the world of fancy and of dreams than all the drugs or -weeds of eastern climes. Thus suffering all his material nature to rest -in absolute repose, he loosed at once the reins of imagination and -memory, and yielded up his mind luxuriously to their mingled realities -and illusions. - -He may have been, perhaps, for two or three hours employed thus -listlessly in chewing the cud of sweet and bitter fancy, when his -meditations were interrupted by a brisk step upon the passage leading -to the apartment in which he sate, instantly succeeded by as brisk a -knocking at the chamber door itself. - -"Is this Mr. O'Connor's chamber?" inquired a voice of peculiar -richness, intonated not unpleasingly with a certain melodious -modification of the brogue, bespeaking a sort of passionate -_devil-may-carishness_ which they say in the good old times wrought -grievous havoc among womankind. The summons was promptly answered by an -invitation to enter; and forthwith the door opened, and a comely man -stepped into the room. The stranger might have seen some fifty or sixty -summers, or even more; for his was one of those joyous, good-humoured, -rubicund visages, upon which time vainly tries to write a wrinkle. His -frame was robust and upright, his stature tall, and there was in his -carriage something not exactly a swagger (for with all his oddities, -the stranger was evidently a gentleman), but a certain rollicking -carelessness, which irresistibly conveyed the character of a reckless, -head-long good-humour and daring, to which nothing could come amiss. In -the hale and jolly features, which many would have pronounced handsome, -were written, in characters which none could mistake, the prevailing -qualities of the man--a gay and sparkling eye, in which lived the very -soul of convivial jollity, harmonized right pleasantly with a smile, no -less of archness than _bonhomie_, and in the brow there was a certain -indescribable cock, which looked half pugnacious and half comic. On the -whole, the stranger, to judge by his outward man, was precisely the -person to take his share in a spree, be the same in joke or earnest--to -tell a good story--finish a good bottle--share his last guinea with -you--or blow your brains out, as the occasion might require. He was -arrayed in a full suit of regimentals, and taken for all in all, one -need hardly have desired a better sample of the dashing, light-hearted, -daredevil Irish soldier of more than a century since. - -"Ah! Major O'Leary," cried O'Connor, starting from his seat, and -grasping the soldier's hand, "I am truly glad to see you; you are the -very man of all others I most require at this moment. I was just about -to have a fit of the blue devils." - -"Blue devils!" exclaimed the major; "don't talk to a youngster like me -of any such infernal beings; but tell me how you are, every inch of -you, and what brings you here?" - -"I never was better; and as to my business," replied O'Connor, "it is -too long and too dull a story to tell you just now; but in the -meantime, let us have a glass of Burgundy; mine host of the 'Cock and -Anchor' boasts a very peculiar cellar." So saying, O'Connor proceeded -to issue the requisite order. - -"That does he, by my soul!" replied the major, with alacrity; "and for -that express reason I invariably make it a point to renew my friendly -intimacy with its contents whenever I visit the metropolis. But I can't -stay more than five minutes, so proceed to operations with all -dispatch." - -"And why all this hurry?" inquired O'Connor. "Where need you go at this -hour?" - -"Faith, I don't precisely know myself," rejoined the soldier; "but I've -a strong impression that my evil genius has contrived a scheme to -inveigle me into a cock-pit not a hundred miles away." - -"I'm sorry for it, with all my heart, Major," replied O'Connor, "since -it robs me of your company." - -"Nay, you must positively come along with me," resumed the major; "I -sip my Burgundy on these express conditions. Don't leave me at these -years without a mentor. I rely upon your prudence and experience; if -you turn me loose upon the town to-night, without a moral guide, upon -my conscience, you have a great deal to answer for. I may be fleeced in -a hell, or milled in a row; and if I fall in with female society, by -the powers of celibacy! I can't answer for the consequences." - -"Sooth to say, Major," rejoined O'Connor, "I'm in no mood for mirth." - -"Come, come! never look so glum," insisted his visitor. "Remember I -have arrived at years of _in_discretion, and must be looked after. -Man's life, my dear fellow, naturally divides itself into three great -stages; the first is that in which the youthful disciple is carefully -instructing his mind, and preparing his moral faculties, in silence, -for all sorts of villainy--this is the season of youth and innocence; -the second is that in which he _practises_ all kinds of rascality--and -this is the flower of manhood, or the prime of life; the third and last -is that in which he strives to make his soul--and this is the period of -dotage. Now, you see, my dear O'Connor, I have unfortunately arrived at -the prime of life, while you are still in the enjoyment of youth and -innocence; I am practising what you are plotting. You are, -unfortunately for yourself, a degree more sober than I; you can -therefore take care that I sin with due discretion--permit me to rob or -murder, without being robbed or murdered in return." - -Here the major filled and quaffed another glass, and then continued,-- - -"In short, I am--to speak in all solemnity and sobriety--so drunk, that -it's a miracle how I mounted these rascally stairs without breaking my -neck. I have no distinct recollection of the passage, except that I -kissed some old hunks instead of the chamber-maid, and pulled his nose -in revenge. I solemnly declare I can neither walk nor think without -assistance; my heels and head are inclined to change places, and I -can't tell the moment the body politic may be capsized. I have no -respect in the world for my intellectual or physical endowments at this -particular crisis; my sight is so infernally acute that I see all -surrounding objects considerably augmented in number; my legs have -asserted their independence, and perform 'Sir Roger de Coverley,' -altogether unsolicited; and my memory and other small mental faculties -have retired for the night. Under those melancholy circumstances, my -dear fellow, you surely won't refuse me the consolation of your -guidance." - -"Had not you better, my dear Major," said O'Connor, "remain with me -quietly here for the night, out of the reach of sharks and sharpers, -male and female? You shall have claret or Burgundy, which you -please--enough to fill a skin!" - -"I can't hold more than a bottle additional," replied the major, -regretfully, "if I can even do that; so you see I'm bereft of domestic -resources, and must look abroad for occupation. The fact is, I expect -to meet one or two fellows whom I want to see, at the place I've named; -so if you can come along with me, and keep me from falling into the -gutters, or any other indiscretion by the way, upon my conscience, you -will confer a serious obligation on me." - -O'Connor plainly perceived that although the major's statement had been -somewhat overcharged, yet that his admissions were not altogether -fanciful; there were in the gallant gentleman's face certain symptoms -of recent conviviality which were not to be mistaken--a perceptible -roll of the eye, and a slight screwing of the lips, which -peculiarities, along with the faintest possible approximation to a -hiccough, and a gentle see-saw vibration of his stalwart person, were -indications highly corroborative of the general veracity of his -confessions. Seeing that, in good earnest, the major was not precisely -in a condition to be trusted with the management of anything pertaining -to himself or others, O'Connor at once resolved to see him, if -possible, safely through his excursion, if after the discussion of the -wine which was now before them, he should persevere in his fancy for a -night ramble. They therefore sate down together in harmonious -fellowship, to discuss the flasks which stood upon the board. - -O'Connor was about to fill his guest's glass for the tenth or twelfth -time, when the major suddenly ejaculated,-- - -"Halt! ground arms! I can no more. Why, you hardened young reprobate, -it's not to make me drunk you're trying? I must keep senses enough to -behave like a Christian at the cock-fight; and, upon my soul! I've very -little rationality to spare at this minute. Put on your hat, and come -without delay, before I'm fairly extinguished." - -O'Connor accordingly donned his hat and cloak, and yielding the major -the double support of his arm on the one side, and of the banisters on -the other, he conducted him safely down the stairs, and with wonderful -steadiness, all things considered, they entered the street, whence, -under the major's direction, they pursued their way. After a silence of -a few minutes, that military functionary exclaimed, with much -gravity,-- - -"I'm a great social philosopher, a great observer, and one who looks -quite through the deeds of men. My dear boy, believe me, this country -is in the process of a great moral reformation; hospitality--which I -take to be the first, and the last, and the only one of all the virtues -of a bishop which is fit for the practice of a gentleman--hospitality, -my dear O'Connor, is rapidly approaching to a climax in this country. I -remember, when I was a little boy, a gentleman might pay a visit of a -week or so to another in the country, and be all the time nothing more -than tipsy--_tipsy_ merely. However, matters gradually improved, and -that stage which philosophers technically term simple drunkenness, -became the standard of hospitality. This passed away, and the sense of -the country, in its silent but irresistible operation, has substituted -_blind_ drunkenness; and in the prophetic spirit of sublime philosophy, -I foresee the arrival of that time when no man can escape the fangs of -hospitality upon any conditions short of brain fever or delirium -tremens." - -As the major delivered this philosophic discourse, he led O'Connor -through several obscure streets and narrow lanes, till at length he -paused in one of the very narrowest and darkest before a dingy brick -house, whose lower windows were secured with heavy bars of iron. The -door, which was so incrusted with dirt and dust that the original paint -was hardly anywhere discernible, stood ajar, and within burned a feeble -and ominous light, so faint and murky, that it seemed fearful of -disclosing the deeds and forms which itself was forced to behold. Into -this dim and suspicious-looking place the major walked, closely -followed by O'Connor. In the hall he was encountered by a huge -savage-looking fellow, who raised his squalid form lazily from a bench -which rested against the wall at the further end, and in a low, gruff -voice, like the incipient growl of a roused watch-dog, inquired what -they wanted there. - -"Why, Mr. Creigan, don't you know Major O'Leary?" inquired that -gentleman. "I and a friend have business here." - -The man muttered something in the way of apology, and opening the dingy -lantern in which burned the wretched tallow candle which half lighted -the place, he snuffed it with his finger and thumb, and while so doing, -desired the major to proceed. Accordingly, with the precision of one -who was familiar with every turn of the place, the gallant officer led -O'Connor through several rooms, lighted in the same dim and shabby way, -into a corridor leading directly to the rearward of the house, and -connecting it with some other detached building. As they threaded this -long passage, the major turned towards O'Connor, who followed him, and -whispered,-- - -"Did you mark that ill-looking fellow in the hall? Poor Creigan!--a -gentleman!--would you think it?--a _gentleman_ by birth, and with a -snug property, too--four hundred good pounds a year, and more--all -gone, like last year's snow, chiefly here in backing mains of his own! -poor dog! I remember him one of the best dressed men on town, and now -he's fain to pick up a few shillings by the week in the place where he -lost his thousands; this is the state of man!" - -As he spoke thus, they had reached the end of the passage. The major -opened the door which terminated the corridor, and thus displayed a -scene which, though commonplace enough in its ingredients, was, -nevertheless, in its _coup d'oeil_, sufficiently striking. In the -centre of a capacious and ill-finished chamber stood a circular -platform, with a high ledge running round it. This arena, some fourteen -feet in diameter, was surrounded by circular benches, which rose one -outside the other, in parallel tiers, to the wall. Upon these seats -were crowded some hundreds of men--a strange mixture; gentlemen of -birth and honour sate side by side with notorious swindlers; noblemen -with coalheavers; simpletons with sharks; the unkempt, greasy locks of -squalid destitution mingled in the curls of the patrician periwig; -aristocratic lace and embroidery were rubbed by the dusty shoulders of -draymen and potboys;--all these gross and glaring contrarieties -reconciled and bound together by one hellish sympathy. All sate locked -in breathless suspense, every countenance fixed in the hard lines of -intense, excited anxiety and vigilance; all leaned forward to gaze upon -the combat whose crisis was on the point of being determined. Those who -occupied the back seats had started up, and pressing forward, almost -crushed those in front of them to death. Every aperture in this living -pile was occupied by some eager, haggard, or ruffian face; and, spite -of all the pushing, and crowding, and bustling, all were silent, as if -the powers of voice and utterance were unknown among them. - -The effect of this scene, so suddenly presented--the crowd of -ill-looking and anxious faces, the startling glare of light, and the -unexpected rush of hot air from the place--all so confounded him, that -O'Connor did not for some moments direct his attention to the object -upon which the gaze of the fascinated multitude was concentrated; when -he did so he beheld a spectacle, abstractedly, very disproportioned in -interest to the passionate anxiety of which it was the subject. Two -game cocks, duly trimmed, and having the long and formidable steel -weapons with which the humane ingenuity of "the fancy" supplies the -natural spur of the poor biped, occupied the centre of the circular -stage which we have described; one of the birds lay upon his back, -beneath the other, which had actually sent his spurs through and -through his opponent's neck. In this posture the wounded animal lay, -with his beak open, and the blood trickling copiously through it upon -the board. The victorious bird crowed loud and clear, and a buzz began -to spread through the spectators, as if the battle were already -determined, and suspense at an end. The "law" had just expired, and the -gentlemen whose business it was to _handle_ the birds were preparing to -withdraw them. - -"Twenty to one on the grey cock," exclaimed a large, ill-looking -fellow, who sat close to the pit, clutching his arms in his brawny -hands, as if actually hugging himself with glee, while he gazed with an -exulting grin upon the combat, whose issue seemed now beyond the reach -of chance. The challenge was, of course, unaccepted. - -"Fifty to one!" exclaimed the same person, still more ecstatically. -"One hundred to one--_two_ hundred to one!" - -"I'll give you one guinea to two hundred," exclaimed perhaps the -coolest gambler in that select assembly, young Henry Ashwoode, who sat -also near the front. - -"Done, Mr. Ashwoode--done with _you_; it's a bet, sir," said the same -ill-looking fellow. - -"Done, sir," replied Ashwoode. - - [Illustration: "Again the conqueror crowed the shrill note of - victory." - _To face page 34_.] - -Again the conqueror crowed the shrill note of victory, and all seemed -over, when, on a sudden, by one of those strange vicissitudes of which -the annals of the cock-pit afford so many examples, the dying bird--it -may be roused by the vaunting challenge of his antagonist--with one -convulsive spasm, struck both his spurs through and through the head of -his opponent, who dropped dead upon the table, while the wounded bird, -springing to his legs, flapped his wings, as if victory had never -hovered, and then as momentarily fell lifeless on the board, by this -last heroic feat winning a main on which many thousands of pounds -depended. A silence for a moment ensued, and then there followed the -loud exulting cheers of some, and the hoarse, bitter blasphemies of -others, clamorous expostulation, hoarse laughter, curses, congratulations, -and invectives--all mingled with the noise occasioned by those who came -in or went out, the shuffling and pounding of feet, in one torrentuous -and stunning volume of sound. - -Young Ashwoode having secured and settled all his bets, shouldered his -way through the crowd, and with some difficulty, reached the door at -which Major O'Leary and O'Connor were standing. - -"How do you do, uncle? Were you in the room when I took the two hundred -to one?" inquired the young man. - -"By my conscience, I was, Hal, and wish you joy with all my heart. It -was a sporting bet on both sides, and as game a fight as the world ever -saw." - -"I must be off," continued the young man. "I promised to look in at -Lady Stukely's to-night; but before I go, you must know they are all -affronted with you at the manor. The girls are positively outrageous, -and desired me to command your presence to-morrow on pain of -excommunication." - -"Give my tender regards to them both," replied the major, "and assure -them that I will be proud to obey them. But don't you know my friend -O'Connor," he added, in a lower tone, "you are old acquaintances, I -believe?" - -"Unless my memory deceives me, I have had the honour of meeting Mr. -O'Connor before," said the young man, with a cold bow, which was -returned by O'Connor with more than equal _hauteur_. "Recollect, uncle, -no excuses," added young Ashwoode, as he retreated from the -chamber--"you have promised to give to-morrow to the girls. Adieu." - -"There goes as finished a specimen of a mad-cap, rake-helly young devil -as ever carried the name of Ashwoode or the blood of the O'Leary's," -observed the uncle; "but come, we must look to the sport." - -So saying, the major, exerting his formidable strength, and -accompanying his turbulent progress with a large distribution of -apologetic and complimentary speeches of the most high-flown kind, -shoved and jostled his way to a vacant place near the front of the -benches, and, seating himself there, began to give and take bets to a -large amount upon the next main. Tired of the noise, and nearly stifled -with the heat of the place, O'Connor, seeing that the major was -resolved to act independently of him, thought that he might as well -consult his own convenience as stay there to be stunned and suffocated -without any prospect of expediting the major's retreat; he therefore -turned about and retraced his steps through the passage which we have -mentioned. The grateful coolness of the air, and the lassitude induced -by the scene in which he had taken a part, though no very prominent -one, induced him to pause in the first room to which the passage, as we -have said, gave access; and happening to espy a bench in one of the -recesses of the windows, he threw himself upon it, thoroughly to -receive the visitings of the cool, hovering air. As he lay listless and -silently upon this rude couch, he was suddenly disturbed by a sound of -someone treading the yard beneath. A figure sprang across toward the -window; and almost instantaneously Larry Toole--for the moonlight -clearly revealed the features of the intruder--was presented at the -aperture, and with an energetic spring, accompanied by a no less -energetic, devotional ejaculation, that worthy vaulted into the -chamber, agitated, excited, and apparently at his wits' end. - - - - -CHAPTER VII. - -THREE GRIM FIGURES IN A LONELY LANE--TWO QUEER GUESTS RIDING TO TONY -BLIGH'S--THE WATCHER IN DANGER--AND THE HIGHWAYMEN. - - -A liberal and unsolicited attention to the affairs of other people, was -one among the many amiable peculiarities of Mr. Laurence Toole: he had -hardly, therefore, seen the major and O'Connor fairly beyond the -threshold of the "Cock and Anchor," when he donned his cocked hat and -followed their steps, allowing, however, an interval sufficiently long -to secure himself against detection. Larry Toole well knew the purposes -to which the squalid mansion which we have described was dedicated, and -having listened for a few moments at the door, to allow his master and -his companion time to reach the inner sanctuary of vice and brutality, -whither it was the will of Major O'Leary to lead his reluctant friend, -this faithful squire entered at the half-open door, and began to -traverse the passage which we have before mentioned. He was not, -however, permitted long to do so undisturbed. The grim sentinel of -these unhallowed regions on a sudden upreared his towering proportions, -heaving his huge shoulders with a very unpleasant appearance of -preparation for an effort, and with two or three formidable strides, -brought himself up with the presumptuous intruder. - -"What do _you_ want here--eh! you d----d scarecrow?" exclaimed the -porter, in a tone which made the very walls to vibrate. - -Larry was too much astounded to reply--he therefore remained mute and -motionless. - -"See, my good cove," observed the gaunt porter, in the same impressive -accents of admonition--"make yourself scarce, d'ye mind; and if you -want to see the pit, go round--we don't let potboys and pickpockets in -at this side--cut and run, or I'll have to give you a lift." - -Larry was no poltroon; but another glance at the colossal frame of the -porter quelled effectually whatever pugnacious movements might have -agitated his soul; and the little man, having deigned one look of -infinite contempt, which told his antagonist, as plainly as any look -could do, that he owed his personal safety solely and exclusively to -the sublime and unmerited pity of Mr. Laurence Toole, that dignified -individual turned on his heel, and withdrew somewhat precipitately -through the door which he had just entered. - -The porter grinned, rolled his quid luxuriously till it made the grand -tour of his mouth, shrugged his square shoulders, and burst into a -harsh chuckle. Such triumphs as the one he had just enjoyed, were the -only sweet drops which mingled in the bitter cup of his savage -existence. Meanwhile, our romantic friend, traversing one or two dark -lanes, made his way easily enough to the more public entrance of this -temple of fortune. The door which our friend Larry now approached lay -at the termination of a long and narrow lane, enclosed on each side -with dead walls of brick--at the far end towered the dark outline of -the building, and over the arched doorway burned a faint and dingy -light, without strength enough to illuminate even the bricks against -which it hung, and serving only in nights of extraordinary darkness as -a dim, solitary star, by which the adventurous night rambler might -shape his course. The moon, however, was now shining broad and clear -into the broken lane, revealing every inequality and pile of rubbish -upon its surface, and throwing one side of the enclosure into black, -impenetrable shadow. Without premeditation or choice, it happened that -our friend Larry was walking at the dark side of the lane, and shrouded -in the deep obscurity he advanced leisurely toward the doorway. As he -proceeded, his attention was arrested by a figure which presented -itself at the entrance of the building, accompanied by two others, as -it appeared, about to pass forth into the lane through which he himself -was moving. They were engaged in animated debate as they -approached--the conversation was conducted in low and earnest -tones--their gestures were passionate and sudden--their progress -interrupted by many halts--and the party evinced certain sinister -indications of uneasy vigilance and caution, which impressed our friend -with a dark suspicion of mischief, which was strengthened by his -recognition of two of the persons composing the little group. His -curiosity was irresistibly piqued, and he instinctively paused, lest -the sound of his advancing steps should disturb the conference, and -more than half in the undefined hope that he might catch the substance -of their conversation before his presence should be detected. In this -object he was perfectly successful. - -In the form which first offered itself, he instantly detected the -well-known proportions and features of young Ashwoode's groom, who had -attended his master into town; and in company with this fellow stood a -person whom Larry had just as little difficulty in recognizing as a -ruffian who had twice escaped the gallows by the critical interposition -of fortune--once by a flaw in the indictment, and again through lack of -sufficient evidence in law--each time having stood his trial on a -charge of murder. It was not very wonderful, then, that this startling -companionship between his old fellow-servant and Will Harris (or, as he -was popularly termed, "Brimstone Bill") should have piqued the -curiosity of so inquisitive a person as Larry Toole. - -In company with these worthies was a third, wrapped in a heavy -riding-coat, and who now and then slightly took part in the -conversation. They all talked in low, earnest whispers, casting many a -stealthy glance backward as they advanced through the dim avenue toward -our curious friend. - -As the party approached, Larry ensconced himself in the recess formed -by the projection of two dilapidated brick piers, between which hung a -crazy door, and in whose front there stood a mound of rubbish some -three feet in height. In such a position he not unreasonably thought -himself perfectly secure. - -"Why, what the devil ails you now, you cursed cowardly ninny," -whispered Brimstone Bill, through his set teeth--"what can happen -_you_, win or lose?--turn up black, or turn up red, is it not all one -to you, you _mouth_, you? _Your_ carcase is safe and sound--then what -do you funk for now? Rouse yourself, you d----d idiot, or I'll drive a -brace of lead pellets through your brains--rouse yourself!" - -Thus speaking, he shook the groom roughly by the collar. - -"Stop, Bill--hands off," muttered the man, sulkily--"I'm not -funking--you know I'm not; but I don't want to see him _finished_--I -don't want to see him murdered when there's no occasion for it--there's -no great harm in that; we want his _ribben_, not his blood; there's no -profit in taking his life." - -"Booby! listen to me," replied the ruffian, in the same tone of intense -impatience. "What do _I_ want with his life any more than you do? -Nothing. Do not I wish to do the thing genteelly as much as you? He -shall not lose a drop of blood, nor his skin have a scratch, if he -knows how to behave and be a good boy. Bah! we need but show him the -_lead towels_, and the job's done. Look you, I and Jack will sit in the -private room of the 'Bleeding Horse.' Old Tony's a trump, and asks no -questions; so, as you pass, give the window a skelp of the whip, and -we'll be out in the snapping of a flint. Leave the rest to us. You have -your instructions, you _kedger_, so act up to them, and the devil -himself can't spoil our sport." - -"You may look out for us, then," said the servant, "in less than two -hours. He never stays late at Lady Stukely's, and he must be home -before two o'clock." - -"Do not forget to grease the hammers," suggested the fellow in the -heavy coat. - -"He doesn't carry pistols to-night," replied the attendant. - -"So much the better--all _my_ luck," exclaimed Brimstone--"I would not -swap luck with the chancellor." - -"The devil's children, they say," observed the gentleman in the large -coat, "have the devil's luck." - -These were the last words Larry Toole could distinguish as the party -moved onward. He ventured, however, although with grievous tremors, to -peep out of his berth to ascertain the movements of the party. They all -stopped at a distance of some twenty or thirty yards from the spot -where he crouched, and for a time appeared again absorbed in earnest -debate. On a sudden, however, the fellow in the riding-coat, having -frequently looked suspiciously up the lane in which they stood, stooped -down, and, picking up a large stone, hurled it with his whole force in -the direction of the embrasure in which Larry was lurking. The missile -struck the projecting pier within a yard of that gentleman's head, with -so much force that the stone burst into fragments and descended in a -shower of splinters about his ears. This astounding salute was -instantly followed by an occurrence still more formidable--for the -ruffian, not satisfied with the test already applied, strode up in -person to the doorway in which Larry had placed himself. It was well -for that person that he was sheltered in front by the mass of rubbish -which we have mentioned: at the foot of this he lay coiled, not daring -even to breathe; every moment expecting to feel the cold point of the -villain's sword poking against his ribs, and half inclined to start -upon his feet and shout for help, although conscious that to do so -would scarcely leave him a chance for his life. The suspicions of the -wretch were, fortunately for Larry, ill-directed. He planted one foot -upon the heap of loose materials which, along with the deep shadow, -constituted poor Mr. Toole's only safeguard; and while the stones which -his weight dislodged rolled over that prostrate person, he pushed open -the door and gazed into the yard, lest any inquisitive ear or eye might -have witnessed more than was consistent with the safety of the -confederates of Brimstone Bill. The fellow was satisfied, and returned -whistling, with affected carelessness, towards his comrades. - -More dead than alive, Larry remained mute and motionless for many -minutes, not daring to peep forth from his hiding-place; when at length -he mustered courage to do so, he saw the two robbers still together, -and again shrunk back into his retreat. Luckily for the poor wight, the -fellow who had looked into the yard left the door unclosed, which, -after a little time perceiving, Larry glided stealthily in on all -fours, and in a twinkling sprang into the window at which his master -lay, as we have already recorded. - - - - -CHAPTER VIII. - -THE WARNING--SHOWING HOW LARRY TOOLE FARED--WHOM HE SAW AND WHAT HE -SAID--AND HOW MUCH GOOD AND HOW LITTLE HE DID--AND MOREOVER RELATING -HOW SOMEBODY WAS LAID IN THE MIRE--AND HOW HENRY ASHWOODE PUT HIS FOOT -IN THE STIRRUP. - - -Flurried and frightened as Larry was, his agitation was not strong -enough to overcome in him the national, instinctive abhorrence of the -character of an informer. To the close interrogatories of his master, -he returned but vague and evasive answers. A few dark hints he threw -out as to the cause of his alarm, but preserved an impenetrable silence -respecting alike its particular nature and the persons of whose -participation in the scheme he was satisfied. - -In language incoherent and nearly unintelligible from excitement, he -implored O'Connor to allow him to absent himself for about one hour, -promising the most important results, in case his request was complied -with, and vowing upon his return to tell him everything about the -matter from beginning to end. - -Seeing the agonized earnestness of the man, though wholly uninformed of -the cause of his uneasiness, which Larry constantly refused to divulge, -O'Connor granted him the permission which he desired, and both left the -building together. O'Connor pursued his way to the "Cock and Anchor," -where, restored to his chamber and to solitude, he abandoned himself -once more to the current of his wayward thoughts. - -Our friend Larry, however, was no sooner disengaged from his master, -than he began, at his utmost speed, to thread the narrow and -complicated lanes and streets which lay between the haunt of profligacy -which we have just described, and the eastern extremity of the city. -After an interrupted run of nearly half an hour through pitchy dark and -narrow streets, he emerged into Stephen's Green; at the eastern side of -which, among other buildings of lesser note, there then stood, and -perhaps (with a new face, and some slight external changes) still -stands, a large and handsome mansion. Toward this building, conspicuous -in the distance by the red glare of dozens of links and torches which -flared and flashed outside, and by the gay light streaming from its -many windows, Larry made his way. Too eager and hurried to pass along -the sides of the square by the common road, he clambered over the -broken wall which surrounded it, plunged through the broad trench, and -ran among the deep grass and rank weeds, now heavy with the dews of -night; over the broad area he pursued his way, startling the quiet -cattle from their midnight slumbers, and hastening rather than abating -his speed, as he drew near to the termination of his hurried mission. -As he approached, the long dark train of carriages, every here and -there lighted by some flaming link still unextinguished, and surrounded -by crowds of idle footmen, sufficiently indicated the scene of Lady -Stukely's hospitalities. In a moment Larry had again crossed the fences -which enclosed the square, and passing the broad road among the -carriages, chairs, and lackeys, he sprang up the steps of the house, -and thundered lustily at the hall-door. It was opened by a gruff and -corpulent porter with a red face and majestic demeanour, who, having -learned from Larry that he had an important message for Mr. Henry -Ashwoode, desired him, in as few words as possible, to step into the -hall. The official then swung the massive door to, rolled himself into -his well-cushioned throne, and having scanned Larry's proportions for a -minute or two with one eye, which he kept half open for such purposes, -he ejaculated-- - -"Mr. Finley, I say, Mr. Finley, here's one with a message upwards." -Having thus delivered himself, he shut down his open eye, screwed his -eyebrows, and became absorbed in abstruse meditation. Meanwhile, Mr. -Finley, in person arrayed in a rich livery, advanced languidly toward -Larry Toole, throwing into his face a dreamy and supercilious -expression, while with one hand he faintly fanned himself with a white -pocket handkerchief. - -"Your most obedient servant to command," drawled the footman, as he -advanced. "What can I do, my good soul, to _obleege_ you?" - -"I only want to see the young master--that's young Mr. Ashwoode," -replied Larry, "for one minute, and that's all." - -The footman gazed upon him for a moment with a languid smile, and -observed in the same sleepy tone, "Absolutely impossible--_amposseeble_, -as they say at the Pallais Royal." - -"But, blur an' agers," exclaimed Larry, "it's a matther iv life an' -death, robbery an' murdher." - -"Bloody murder!" echoed the man in a sweet, low voice, and with a stare -of fashionable abstraction. - -"Well, tear an' 'oun's," cried Larry, almost beside himself with -impatience, "if you won't bring him down to me, will you even as much -as carry him a message?" - -"To say the truth, and upon my honour," replied the man, "I can't -engage to climb up stairs just now, they are so devilish fatiguing. -Don't you find them so?" - -The question was thrown out in that vacant, inattentive way which seems -to dispense with an answer. - -"By my soul!" rejoined Larry, almost crying with vexation, "it's a hard -case. Do you mane to tell me, you'll neither bring him down to me nor -carry him up a message?" - -"You have, my excellent fellow," replied the footman, placidly, -"precisely conveyed my meaning." - -"By the hokey!" cried Larry, "you're fairly breaking my heart. In the -divil's name, can you as much as let me stop here till he's comin' -down?" - -"Absolutely impossible," replied the footman, in the same dulcet and -deliberate tone. "It is indeed _amposseeble_, as the Parisians have it. -You _must_ be aware, my good old soul, that you're in a positive -pickle. You are, pardon me, my excellent friend, very dirty and very -disgusting. You must therefore go out in a few moments into the fresh -air." At any other moment, such a speech would have infallibly provoked -Mr. Toole's righteous and most rigorous vengeance; but he was now too -completely absorbed in the mission which he had undertaken to suffer -personal considerations to have a place in his bosom. - -"Will you, then," he ejaculated desperately, "will you as much as give -him a message yourself, when he's comin' down?" - -"What message?" drawled the lackey. - -"Tell him, for the love of God, to take the _old_ road home, by the -seven sallies," replied Larry. "Will you give him that message, if it -isn't too long?" - -"I have a wretched memory for messages," observed the footman, as he -leisurely opened the door--"a perfect sieve: but should he catch my eye -as he passes, I'll endeavour, upon my honour; good night--adieu!" - -As he thus spoke, Larry had reached the threshold of the door, which -observing, the polished footman, with a _nonchalant_ and easy air, -slammed the hall-door, thereby administering upon Larry's back, -shoulders, and elbows, such a bang as to cause Mr. Toole to descend the -flight of steps at a pace much more marvellous to the spectators than -agreeable to himself. Muttering a bitter curse upon his exquisite -acquaintance, Larry took his stand among the expectants in the street; -there resolved to wait and watch for young Ashwoode, and to give him -the warning which so nearly concerned his safety. - -Meanwhile, Lady Stukely's drawing-rooms were crowded by the gay, the -fashionable, and the frivolous, of all ages. Young Ashwoode stood -behind his wealthy hostess's chair, while she played quadrille, scarce -knowing whether she won or lost, for Henry Ashwoode had never been so -fascinating before. Lady Stukely was a delicate, die-away lady, not -very far from sixty; the natural blush upon her nose outblazoned the -rouge upon her cheeks; several very long teeth--"ivory and ebon -alternately"--peeped roguishly from beneath her upper lip, which her -ladyship had a playful trick of screwing down, to conceal them--a trick -which made her ladyship's smile rather a surprising than an attractive -exhibition. It is but justice, however, to admit that she had a pair of -very tolerable eyes, with which she executed the most masterly -evolutions. For the rest, there having existed a very considerable -disparity in years between herself and her dear deceased, Sir Charles -Stukely, who had expired at the mature age of ninety, more than a year -before, she conceived herself still a very young, artless, and -interesting girl; and under this happy hallucination she was more than -half inclined to return in good earnest the disinterested affection of -Henry Ashwoode. - -There, too, was old Lord Aspenly, who had, but two days before, -solicited and received Sir Richard Ashwoode's permission to pay his -court to his beautiful daughter, Mary. There, jerking and shrugging and -grimacing, he hobbled through the rooms, all wrinkles and rappee; -bandying compliments and repartees, flirting and fooling, and beyond -measure enchanted with himself, while every interval in frivolity and -noise was filled up with images of his approaching nuptials and -intended bride, while she, poor girl, happily unconscious of all their -plans, was spared, for that night, the pangs and struggles which were -hereafter but too severely to try her heart. - -'Twere needless to enumerate noble peers, whose very titles are now -unknown--poets, who alas! were mortal--men of promise, who performed -nothing--clever young men, who grew into stupid old ones--and -millionaires, whose money perished with them; we shall not, therefore, -weary the reader by describing Lady Stukely's guests; let it suffice to -mention that Henry Ashwoode left the rooms with young Pigwiggynne, of -Bolton's regiment of dragoons, and one of Lord Wharton's aides-de-camp. -This circumstance is here recorded because it had an effect in -producing the occurrences which we have to relate by-and-by; for young -Pigwiggynne having partaken somewhat freely of Lady Stukely's wines, -and being unusually exhilarated, came forth from the hall-door to -assist Ashwoode in procuring a chair, which he did with a good deal -more noise and blasphemy than was strictly necessary. Our friend Larry -Toole, who had patiently waited the egress of his _quondam_ young -master, no sooner beheld him than he hastened to accost him, but -Pigwiggynne being, as we have said, in high spirits and unusual good -humour, cut short poor Larry's address by jocularly knocking him on the -head with a heavy walking-cane--a pleasantry which laid that person -senseless upon the pavement. The humorist passed on with an -exhilarating crow, after the manner of a cock; and had not a -matter-of-fact chairman drawn Mr. Toole from among the coach-wheels -where the joke had happened to lay him, we might have been saved the -trouble of recording the subsequent history of that very active member -of society. Meanwhile, young Ashwoode was conveyed in a chair to a -neighbouring fashionable hotel, where, having changed his suit, and -again equipped himself for the road, he mounted his horse, and followed -by his treacherous groom, set out at a brisk pace upon his hazardous, -and as it turned out, eventful night-ride toward the manor of Morley -Court. - - - - -CHAPTER IX. - -THE "BLEEDING HORSE"--HOLLANDS AND PIPES FOR TWO--EVERY BULLET HAS ITS -BILLET. - - -At the time in which the events that we have undertaken to record took -place, there stood at the southern extremity of the city, near the -point at which Camden Street now terminates, a small, old-fashioned -building, something between an ale-house and an inn. It occupied the -roadside by no means unpicturesquely; one gable jutted into the road, -with a projecting window, which stood out from the building like a -glass box held together by a massive frame of wood; and commanded by -this projecting gable, and a few yards in retreat, but facing the road, -was the inn door, over which hung a painted panel, representing a white -horse, out of whose neck there spouted a crimson cascade, and -underneath, in large letters, the traveller was informed that this was -the genuine old "Bleeding Horse." Old enough, in all conscience, it -appeared to be, for the tiled roof, except where the ivy clustered over -it, was crowded with weeds of many kinds, and the boughs of the huge -trees which embowered it had cracked and shattered one of the cumbrous -chimney-stacks, and in many places it was evident that but for the -timely interposition of the saw and the axe, the giant limbs of the old -timber would, in the gradual increase of years, have forced their way -through the roof and the masonry itself--a tendency sufficiently -indicated by sundry indentures and rude repairs in those parts of the -building most exposed to such casualties. Upon the night in which the -events that are recorded in the immediately preceding chapters -occurred, two horsemen rode up to this inn, and leisurely entering the -stable yard, dismounted, and gave their horses in charge to a ragged -boy who acted as hostler, directing him with a few very impressive -figures of rhetoric, on no account to loosen girth or bridle, or to -suffer the beasts to stir one yard from the spot where they stood. This -matter settled, they entered the house. Both were muffled; the one--a -large, shambling fellow--wore a capacious riding-coat; the other--a -small, wiry man--was wrapped in a cloak; both wore their hats pressed -down over their brows, and had drawn their mufflers up, so as to -conceal the lower part of the face. The lesser of the two men, leaving -his companion in the passage, opened a door, within which were a few -fellows drowsily toping, and one or two asleep. In a chair by the fire -sat Tony Bligh, the proprietor of the "Bleeding Horse," a middle-aged -man, rather corpulent, as pale as tallow, and with a sly, ugly squint. -The little man in the cloak merely introduced his head and shoulders, -and beckoned with his thumb. The signal, though scarcely observed by -one other of the occupants of the room, was instantly and in silence -obeyed by the landlord, who, casting one uneasy glance round, glided -across the floor, and was in the passage almost as soon as the -gentleman in the cloak. - -"Here, Tony, boy," whispered the man, as the innkeeper approached, -"fetch us a pint of Hollands, a couple of pipes, and a glim; but first -turn the key in this door here, and come yourself, do ye mind?" - -Tony squeezed the speaker's arm in token of acquiescence, and turning a -key gently in the lock, he noiselessly opened the door which Brimstone -Bill had indicated, and the two cavaliers strode into the dark and -vacant chamber. Brimstone walked to the window, pushed open the -casement, and leaned out. The beautiful moon was shining above the old -and tufted trees which lined the quiet road; he looked up and down the -shaded avenue, but nothing was moving upon it, save the varying shadows -as the night wind swung the branches to and fro. He listened, but no -sound reached his ears, excepting the rustling and moaning of the -boughs, through which the breeze was fitfully soughing. - -Scarcely had he drawn back again into the room, when Tony returned with -the refreshments which the gentleman had ordered, and with a dark -lantern enclosing a lighted candle. - -"Right, old cove," said Bill. "I see you hav'n't forgot the trick of -the trade. Who are your _pals_ inside?" - -"Three of them sleep here to-night," replied Tony. "They're all quiet -coves enough, such as doesn't hear nor see any more than they ought." - -The two fellows filled a pipe each, and lighted them at the lantern. - -"What mischief are you after now, Bill?" inquired the host, with a -peculiar leer. - -"Why should _I_ be after any mischief," replied Brimstone jocularly, -"any more than a sucking dove, eh? Do I look like mischief to-night, -old tickle-pitcher--do I?" - -He accompanied the question with a peculiar grin, which mine host -answered by a prolonged wink of no less peculiar significance. - -"Well, Tony boy," rejoined Bill, "maybe I _am_ and maybe I -_ain't_--that's the way: but mind, you did not see a stim of me, nor of -_him_, to-night (glancing at his comrade), nor ever, for that matter. -But you did see two ill-looking fellows not a bit like us; and I have a -notion that these two chaps will manage to get into a sort of shindy -before an hour's over, and then _mizzle_ at once; and if all goes well, -your hand shall be crossed with gold to-night." - -"Bill, Bill," said the landlord, with a smile of exquisite relish, and -drawing his hand coaxingly over the man's forehead, so as to smooth the -curls of his periwig nearly into his eyes, "you're just the same old -dodger--you are the devil's own bird--you have not cast a feather." - -It is hard to say how long this tender scene might have continued, had -not the other ruffian knocked his knuckles sharply on the table, and -cried-- - -"Hist! brother--_chise_ it--enough fooling--I hear a horse-shoe on the -road." - -All held their breath, and remained motionless for a time. The fellow -was, however, mistaken. Bill again advanced to the window, and gazed -intently through the long vista of trees. - -"There's not a bat stirring," said he, returning to the table, and -filling out successively two glasses of spirits, he emptied them both. -"Meanwhile, Tony," continued he, "get back to your company. Some of the -fellows may be poking their noses into this place. If you don't hear -_from_ me, at all events you'll hear of me before an hour. Hop the -twig, boy, and keep all hard in for a bit--skip." - -With a roguish grin and a shake of the fist, honest Tony, not caring to -dispute the commands of his friend, of whose temper he happened to know -something, stealthily withdrew from the room, where we, too, shall for -a time leave these worthy gentlemen of the road vigilantly awaiting the -approach of their victim. - - -Larry Toole had no sooner recovered his senses--which was in less than -a minute--than he at once betook himself to the "Cock and Anchor," -resolved, as the last resource, to inform O'Connor of the fact that an -attack was meditated. Accordingly, he hastened with very little -ceremony into the presence of his master, told him that young Ashwoode -was to be waylaid upon the road, near the "Bleeding Horse," and -implored him, without the loss of a moment, to ride in that direction, -with a view, if indeed it might not already be too late, to intercept -his passage, and forewarn him of the danger which awaited him. - -Without waiting to ask one useless question, O'Connor, before five -minutes were passed, was mounted on his trusty horse, and riding at a -hard pace through the dark streets towards the point of danger. - -Meanwhile, young Ashwoode, followed by his mounted attendant, proceeded -at a brisk trot in the direction of the manor; his brain filled with a -thousand busy thoughts and schemes, among which, not the least -important, were sundry floating calculations as to the probable and -possible amount of Lady Stukely's jointure, as well as some conjectures -respecting the _maximum_ duration of her ladyship's life. Involved in -these pleasing ruminations, sometimes crossed by no less agreeable -recollections, in which the triumphs of vanity and the successes of the -gaming-table had their share, he had now reached that shadowy and -silent part of the road at which stood the little inn, embowered in the -great old trees, and peeping forth with a sort of humble and friendly -aspect, but ill-according with the dangerous designs it served to -shelter. - -Here the servant, falling somewhat further behind, brought his horse -close under the projecting window of the inn as he passed, and with a -sharp cut of his whip gave the concerted signal. Before sixty seconds -had elapsed, two well-mounted cavaliers were riding at a hard gallop in -their wake. At this headlong pace, the foremost of the two horsemen had -passed Ashwoode by some dozen yards, when, checking his horse so -suddenly as to throw him back upon his haunches, he wheeled him round, -and plunging the spurs deep into his flanks, with two headlong springs, -he dashed him madly upon the young man's steed, hurling the beast and -his rider to the earth. Tremendous as was the fall, young Ashwoode, -remarkable alike for personal courage and activity, was in a moment -upon his feet, with his sword drawn, ready to receive the assault of -the ruffian. - -"Let go your skiver--drop it, you greenhorn," cried the fellow, -hoarsely, as he wheeled round his plunging horse, and drew a pistol -from the holster, "or, by the eternal ----, I'll blow your head into -dust!" - -Young Ashwoode attempted to seize the reins of the fellow's horse, and -made a desperate pass at the rider. - -"Take it, then," cried the fellow, thrusting the muzzle of the pistol -into Ashwoode's face and drawing the trigger. Fortunately for Ashwoode, -the pistol missed fire, and almost at the same moment the rapid clang -of a horse's hoofs, accompanied by the loud shout of menace, broke -startlingly upon his ear. Happy was this interruption for Henry -Ashwoode, for, stunned and dizzy from the shock, he at that moment -tottered, and in the next was prostrate upon the ground. "Blowed, by -----!" cried the villain, furiously, as the unwelcome sounds reached -his ears, and dashing the spurs into his horse, he rode at a furious -gallop down the road towards the country. This scene occupied scarce -six seconds in the acting. Brimstone Bill, who had but a moment before -come up to the succour of his comrade, also heard the rapid approach of -the galloping hoofs upon the road; he knew that before he could count -fifty seconds the new comer would have arrived. A few moments, however, -he thought he could spare--important moments they turned out to be to -one of the party. Bill kept his eye steadily fixed upon the point some -three or four hundred yards distant at which he knew the horseman whose -approach was announced must first appear. - -In that brief moment, the cool-headed villain had rapidly calculated -the danger of the groom's committing his accomplices through want of -coolness and presence of mind, should he himself, as was not unlikely, -become suspected. The groom's pistols were still loaded, and he had -taken no part in the conflict. Brimstone Bill fixed a stern glance upon -his companion while all these and other thoughts flashed like lightning -across his brain. - -"Darby," said he, hurriedly, to the man who sat half-stupefied in the -saddle close beside him, "blaze off the lead towels--crack them off, I -say." - -Bill impatiently leaned forward, and himself drew the pistols from the -groom's saddle-bow; he fired one of them in the air--he cocked the -other. "This dolt will play the devil with us all," thought he, looking -with a peculiar expression at the bewildered servant. With one hand he -grasped him by the collar to steady his aim, and with the other, -suddenly thrusting the pistol to his ear, and drawing the trigger, he -blew the wretched man's head into fragments like a potsherd; and -wheeling his horse's head about, he followed his comrade pell-mell, -beating the sparks in showers from the stony road at every plunge. - -All this occurred in fewer moments than it has taken us lines to -describe it; and before our friend Brimstone Bill had secured the odds -which his safety required, O'Connor was thundering at a furious gallop -within less than a hundred yards of him. Bill saw that his pursuer was -better mounted than he--to escape, therefore, by a fair race was out of -the question. His resolution was quickly taken. By a sudden and -powerful effort he reined in his horse at a single pull, and, with one -rearing wheel, brought him round upon his antagonist; at the same time, -drawing one of the large pistols from the saddle-bow, he rested it -deliberately upon his bridle-arm, and fired at his pursuer, now within -twenty yards of him. The ball passed so close to O'Connor's head that -his ear rang shrilly with the sound of it for hours after. They had now -closed; the highwayman drew his second pistol from the holster, and -each fired at the same instant. O'Connor's shot was well directed--it -struck his opponent in the bridle-arm, a little below the shoulder, -shattering the bone to splinters. With a hoarse shriek of agony, the -fellow, scarce knowing what he did, forced the spurs into his horse's -sides; and the animal reared, wheeled, and bore its rider at a reckless -speed in the direction which his companion had followed. - -It was well for him that the shot, which at the same moment he had -discharged, had not been altogether misdirected. O'Connor, indeed, -escaped unscathed, but the ball struck his horse between the eyes, and -piercing the brain, the poor beast reared upright and fell dead upon -the road. Extricating himself from the saddle, O'Connor returned to the -spot where young Ashwoode and the servant still lay. Stunned and dizzy -with the fall which he had had, the excitement of actual conflict was -no sooner over, than Ashwoode sank back into a state of insensibility. -In this condition O'Connor found him, pale as death, and apparently -lifeless. Raising him against the grassy bank at the roadside, and -having cast some water from a pool close by into his face, he saw him -speedily recover. - -"Mr. O'Connor," said Ashwoode, as soon as he was sufficiently restored, -"you have saved my life--how can I thank you?" - -"Spare your thanks, sir," replied O'Connor, haughtily; "for any man I -would have done as much--for anyone bearing your name I would do much -more. Are you hurt, sir?" - -"O'Connor, I have done you much injustice," said the young man, -betrayed for the moment into something like genuine feeling. "You must -forget and forgive it--I know your feelings respecting others of my -family--henceforward I will be your friend--do not refuse my hand." - -"Henry Ashwoode," replied O'Connor, "I take your hand--gladly -forgetting all past causes of resentment--but I want no vows of -friendship, which to-morrow you may regret. Act with regard to me -henceforward as if this night had not been--for I tell you truly again, -that I would have done as much for the meanest peasant breathing as I -have done to-night for you; and once more I pray you tell me, are you -much hurt?" - -"Nothing, nothing," replied Ashwoode--"merely a fall such as I have had -a thousand times after the hounds. It has made my head swim -confoundedly; but I'll soon be steady. What, in the meantime, has -become of honest Darby? If I mistake not, I see his horse browsing -there by the roadside." - -A few steps showed them what seemed a bundle of clothes lying heaped -upon the road; they approached it--it was the body of the servant. - -"Get up, Darby--get up, man," cried Ashwoode, at the same time pressing -the prostrate figure with his boot. It had been lying with the back -uppermost, and in a half-kneeling attitude; it now, however, rolled -round, and disclosed, in the bright moonlight, the hideous aspect of -the murdered man--the head a mere mass of ragged flesh and bone, -shapeless and blackened, and hollow as a shell. Horror-struck at the -sight, they turned in silence away, and having secured the two horses, -they both mounted and rode together back to the little inn, where, -having procured assistance, the body of the wretched servant was -deposited. Young Ashwoode and O'Connor then parted, each on his -respective way. - - - - -CHAPTER X. - -THE MASTER OF MORLEY COURT AND THE LITTLE GENTLEMAN IN -BOTTLE-GREEN--THE BARONET'S DAUGHTER--AND THE TWO CONSPIRATORS. - - -Encounters such as those described in the last chapter were, it is -needless to say, much more common a hundred and thirty years ago than -they are now. In fact, it was unsafe alike in town and country to stir -abroad after dark in any district affording wealth and aristocracy -sufficient to tempt the enterprise of _professional_ gentlemen. If -London and its environs, with all their protective advantages, were, -nevertheless, so infested with desperadoes as to render its very -streets and most frequented ways perilous to pass through during the -hours of night, it is hardly to be wondered at that Dublin, the capital -of a rebellious and semi-barbarous country--haunted by hungry -adventurers, who had lost everything in the revolutionary wars--with a -most notoriously ineffective police, and a rash and dissolute -aristocracy, with a great deal more money and a great deal less caution -than usually fall to the lot of our gentry of the present day--should -have been pre-eminently the scene of midnight violence and adventure. -The continued frequency of such occurrences had habituated men to think -very lightly of them; and the feeble condition of the civil executive -almost uniformly secured the impunity of the criminal. We shall not, -therefore, weary the reader by inviting his attention to the formal -investigation which was forthwith instituted; it is enough for all -purposes to record that, like most other investigations of the kind at -that period, it ended in--just nothing. - -Instead, then, of attending inquests and reading depositions, we must -here request the gentle reader to accompany us for a brief space into -the dressing-room of Sir Richard Ashwoode, where, upon the morning -following the events which in our last we have detailed, the -aristocratic invalid lay extended upon a well-cushioned sofa, arrayed -in a flowered silk dressing-gown, lined with crimson, and with a velvet -cap upon his head. He was apparently considerably beyond sixty--a -slightly and rather an elegantly made man, with thin, anxious features, -and a sallow complexion: his head rested upon his hand, and his eyes -wandered with an air of discontented abstraction over the fair -landscape which his window commanded. Before him was placed a small -table, with all the appliances of an elegant breakfast; and two or -three books and pamphlets were laid within reach of his hand. A little -way from him sate his beautiful child, Mary Ashwoode, paler than usual, -though not less lovely--for the past night had been to her one of -fevered excitement, griefs, and fears. There she sate, with her work -before her, and while her small hands plied their appointed task, her -soft, dark eyes wandered often with sweet looks of affection toward the -reclining form of that old haughty and selfish man, her father. - -The silence had continued long, for the old man's temper might not, -perhaps, have brooked an interruption of his ruminations, although, if -the sour and spited expression of his face might be trusted, his -thoughts were not the most pleasant in the world. The train of -reflection, whatever it might have been, was interrupted by the -entrance of a servant, bearing in his hand a note, with which he -approached Sir Richard, but with that air of nervous caution with which -one might be supposed to present a sandwich to a tiger. - -"Why the devil, sirrah, do you pound the floor so!" cried Sir Richard, -turning shortly upon the man as he advanced, and speaking in sharp and -bitter accents. "What's that you've got?--a note?--take it back, you -blockhead--I'll not touch it--it's some rascally scrap of dunning -paper--get out of my sight, sirrah." - -"An it please you, sir," replied the man, deferentially, "it comes from -Lord Aspenly." - -"Eh! oh! ah!" exclaimed Sir Richard, raising himself upon the sofa, and -extending his hand with alacrity. "Here, give it to me; so you may go, -sir--but stay, does a messenger wait?--ask particularly from me how his -lordship does, do you mind? and let the man have refreshment; go, -sirrah, go--begone!" - -Sir Richard then took the note, broke the seal, and read the contents -through, evidently with considerable satisfaction. Having completed the -perusal of the note twice over, with a smile of unusual gratification, -tinctured, perhaps, with the faintest possible admixture of ridicule, -Sir Richard turned toward his daughter with more real cheerfulness than -she had seen him exhibit for years before. - -"Mary, my good child," said he, "this note announces the arrival here, -on to-morrow, of my old, or rather, my most _particular_ friend, Lord -Aspenly; he will pass some days with us--days which we must all -endeavour to make as agreeable to him as possible. You look--you _do_ -look extremely well and pretty to-day; come here and kiss me, child." - -Overjoyed at this unwonted manifestation of affection, the girl cast -her work away, and with a beating heart and light step, she ran to her -father's side, threw her arms about his neck, and kissed him again and -again, in happy unconsciousness of all that was passing in the mind of -him she so fondly caressed. - -The door again opened, and the same servant once more presented -himself. - -"What do you come to plague me about _now_?" inquired the master, -sharply; recovering, in an instant, his usual peevish manner--"What's -this you've got?--what _is_ it?" - -"A card, sir," replied the man, at the same time advancing the salver -on which it lay within reach of the languid hand of his master. - -"Mr. Audley--Mr. Audley," repeated Sir Richard, as he read the card; "I -never heard of the man before, in the course of my life; I know nothing -about him--nothing--and care as little. Pray what is _he_ pestering -about?--what does he want here?" - -"He requests permission to see you, sir," replied the man. - -"Tell him, with my compliments, to go to hell!" rejoined the -invalid;--"Or, stay," he added, after a moment's pause--"what does he -look like?--is he well or ill-dressed?--old or young?" - -"A middle-aged man, sir; rather well-dressed," answered the servant. - -"He did not mention his business?" asked Sir Richard. - -"No, sir," replied the man; "but he said that it was very important, -and that you would be glad to see him." - -"Show him up, then," said Sir Richard, decisively. - -The servant accordingly bowed and departed. - -"A stranger!--a gentleman!--and come to me upon important and pleasant -business," muttered the baronet, musingly--"important and -pleasant!--Can my old, cross-grained brother-in-law have made a -favourable disposition of his property, and--and--died!--that were, -indeed, news worth hearing; too much luck to happen me, though--no, no, -it can't be--it can't be." - -Nevertheless, he thought it _might_ be; and thus believing, he awaited -the entrance of his visitor with extreme impatience. This suspense, -however, was not of long duration; the door opened, and the servant -announced Mr. Audley--a dapper little gentleman, in grave habiliments -of bottle-green cloth; in person somewhat short and stout; and in -countenance rather snub-featured and rubicund, but bearing an -expression in which good-humour was largely blended with -self-importance. This little person strutted briskly into the room. - -"Hem!--Sir Richard Ashwoode, I presume?" exclaimed the visitor, with a -profound bow, which threatened to roll his little person up like an -armadillo. - -Sir Richard returned the salute by a slight nod and a gracious wave of -the hand. - -"You will excuse my not rising to receive you, Mr. Audley," said the -baronet, "when I inform you that I am tied here by the gout; pray, sir, -take a chair. Mary, remove your work to the room underneath, and lay -the ebony wand within my reach; I will tap upon the floor when I want -you." - -The girl accordingly glided from the room. - -"We are now alone, sir," continued Sir Richard, after a short pause. "I -fear, sir--I know not why--that your business has relation to my -brother; is he--is he _ill_?" - -"Faith, sir," replied the little man bluntly, "I never heard of the -gentleman before in my life." - -"I breathe again, sir; you have relieved me extremely," said the -baronet, swallowing his disappointment with a ghastly smile; "and now, -sir, that you have thus considerately and expeditiously dispelled what -were, thank heaven! my groundless alarms, may I ask you to what -accident I am indebted for the singular good fortune of making your -acquaintance--in short, sir, I would fain learn the object of your -visit." - -"That you shall, sir--that you shall, in a trice," replied the little -gentleman in green. "I'm a plain man, my dear Sir Richard, and love to -come to the point at once--ahem! The story, to be sure, is a long one, -but don't be afraid, I'll abridge it--I'll abridge it." He drew his -watch from his fob, and laying it upon the table before him, he -continued--"It now wants, my dear sir, precisely seven minutes of -eleven, by London time; I shall limit myself to half-an-hour." - -"I fear, Mr. Audley, you should find me a very unsatisfactory listener -to a narrative of half-an-hour's length," observed Sir Richard, drily; -"in fact, I am not in a condition to make any such exertion; if you -will obligingly condense what you have to say into a few minutes, you -will confer a favour upon me, and lighten your own task considerably." -Sir Richard then indignantly took a pinch of snuff, and muttered, -almost audibly--"A vulgar, audacious, old boor." - -"Well, then, we must try--we must try, my dear sir," replied the little -gentleman, wiping his face with his handkerchief, by way of -preparation--"I'll just sum up the leading points, and leave -particulars for a more favourable opportunity; in fact, I'll hold over -_all_ details to our next merry meeting--our next _tete-a-tete_--when I -hope we shall meet upon a pleasanter _footing_--your gouty toes, you -know--d'ye take me? Ha! ha! excuse the joke--ha! ha! ha!" - -Sir Richard elevated his eyebrows, and looked upon the little gentleman -with a gaze of stern and petrifying severity during this burst of -merriment. - -"Well, my dear sir," continued Mr. Audley, again wiping his face, "to -proceed to business. You have learned my name from my card, but beyond -my name you know nothing about me." - -"_Nothing whatever_, sir," replied Sir Richard, with profound emphasis. - -"Just so; well, then, you _shall_," rejoined the little gentleman. "I -have been a long time settled in France--I brought over every penny I -had in the world there--in short, sir, something more than twelve -thousand pounds. Well, sir, what did I do with it? There's the -question. Your gay young fellows would have thrown it away at the -gaming table, or squandered it on gold lace and velvets--or again, your -prudent, plodding fellow would have lived quietly on the interest and -left the principal to vegetate; but what did I do? Why, sir, not caring -for idleness or show, I threw some of it into the wine trade, and with -the rest I kept hammering at the funds, winning twice for every once I -lost. In fact, sir, I prospered--the money rolled in, sir, and in due -course I became rich, sir--rich--_warm_, as the phrase goes." - -"Very _warm_, indeed, sir," replied Sir Richard, observing that his -visitor again wiped his face--"but allow me to ask, beyond the general -interest which I may be presumed to feel in the prosperity of the whole -human race, how on earth does all this concern _me_?" - -"Ay, ay, there's the question," replied the stranger, looking -unutterably knowing--"that's the puzzle. But all in good time; you -shall hear it in a twinkling. Now, being well to do in the world, you -may ask me, why do not I look out for a wife? I answer you simply, that -having escaped matrimony hitherto, I have no wish to be taken in the -noose at these years; and now, before I go further, what do you take my -age to be--how old do I look?" - -The little man squared himself, cocked his head on one side, and looked -inquisitively at Sir Richard from the corner of his eye. The patience -of the baronet was nigh giving way outright. - -"Sir," replied he, in no very gracious tones, "you may be the -'Wandering Jew,' for anything I either know or see to the contrary." - -"Ha! good," rejoined the little man, with imperturbable good humour, "I -see, Sir Richard, you are a wag--the Wandering Jew--ha, ha! no--not -_that_ quite. The fact is, sir, I am in my sixty-seventh year--you -would not have thought that--eh?" - -Sir Richard made no reply whatever. - -"You'll acknowledge, sir, that _that_ is not exactly the age at which -to talk of hearts and darts, and gay gold rings," continued the -communicative gentleman in the bottle-green. "I know very well that no -young woman, of her own free choice, could take a liking to _me_." - -"Quite impossible," with desperate emphasis, rejoined Sir Richard, upon -whose ear the sentence grated unpleasantly; for Lord Aspenly's letter -(in which "hearts and darts" were profusely noticed) lay before him on -the table; "but once more, sir, may I implore of you to tell me the -drift of all this?" - -"The drift of it--to be sure I will--in due time," replied Mr. Audley. -"You see, then, sir, that having no family of my own, and not having any -intention of taking a wife, I have resolved to leave my money to a fine -young fellow, the son of an old friend; his name is O'Connor--Edmond -O'Connor--a fine, handsome, young dog, and worthy to fill any place in -all the world--a high-spirited, good-hearted, dashing young rascal--you -know something of him, Sir Richard?" - -The baronet nodded a supercilious assent; his attention was now really -enlisted. - -"Well, Sir Richard," continued the visitor, "I have wormed out of -him--for I have a knack of my own of getting at people's secrets, no -matter how close they keep them, d'ye see--that he is over head and -ears in love with your daughter--I believe the young lady who just -left the room on my arrival; and indeed, if such is the case, I -commend the young scoundrel's taste; the lady is truly worthy of all -admiration--and----" - -"Pray, sir, proceed as briefly as may be to the object of your -conversation with me," interrupted Sir Richard, drily. - -"Well, then, to return--I understand, sir," continued Audley, "that -you, suspecting something of the kind, and believing the young fellow -to be penniless, very naturally, and, indeed, I may say, very -prudently, and very sensibly, opposed yourself to the thing from the -commencement, and obliged the sly young dog to discontinue his -visits;--well, sir, matters stood so, until _I_--cunning little -_I_--step in, and change the whole posture of affairs--and how? Marry, -thus, I come hither and ask your daughter's hand for _him_, upon these -terms following--that I undertake to convey to him, at once, lands to -the value of one thousand pounds a year, and that at my death I will -leave him, with the exception of a few small legacies, sole heir to all -I have; and on his wedding-day give him and his lady their choice of -either of two chateaux, the worst of them a worthy residence for a -nobleman." - -"Are these chateaux in Spain?" inquired Sir Richard, sneeringly. - -"No, no, sir," replied the little man, with perfect guilelessness; -"both in Flanders." - -"Well, sir," said Sir Richard Ashwoode, raising himself almost to a -sitting posture, and preluding his observations with two unusually -large pinches of snuff, "I have heard you very patiently throughout a -statement, all of which was fatiguing, and much of which was positively -disagreeable to me: and I trust that what I have now to say will render -it wholly unnecessary for you and me ever again to converse upon the -same topic. Of Mr. O'Connor, whom, in spite of this strange repetition -of an already rejected application, I believe to be a spirited young -man, I shall say nothing more than that, from the bottom of my heart I -wish him every success of every kind, so long as he confines his -aspirations to what is suitable to his own position in society; and, -consequently, conducive to his own comfort and respectability. With -respect to his very flattering vicarious proposal, I must assure you -that I do not suspect Miss Ashwoode of any inclination to descend from -the station to which her birth and fortune entitle her; and if I did -suspect it, I should feel it to be my imperative duty to resist, by -every means in my power, the indulgence of any such wayward caprice; -but lest, after what I have said, any doubt should rest upon your mind -as to the value of these obstacles, it may not be amiss to add that my -daughter, Miss Ashwoode, is actually promised in marriage to a -gentleman of exalted rank and great fortune, and who is, in all -respects, an unexceptionable connection. I have the honour, sir, to -wish you good-morning." - -"The devil!" exclaimed the little gentleman, as soon as his utter -amazement allowed him to take breath. A long pause ensued, during which -he twice inflated his cheeks to their utmost tension, and puffed the -air forth with a prolonged whistle of desolate wonder. Recollecting -himself, however, he hastily arose, wished Sir Richard good-day, and -walked down stairs, and out of the house, all the way muttering, "God -bless my body and soul--a thousand pounds a year--the devil--_can_ it -be?--body o' me--refuse a thousand a year--what the deuce is he looking -for?"--and such other ejaculations; stamping all the while emphatically -upon every stair as he descended, to give vent to his indignation, as -well as impressiveness to his remarks. - -Something like a smile for a moment lit up the withered features of the -old baronet; he leaned back luxuriously upon his sofa, and while he -listened with delighted attention to the stormy descent of his visitor, -he administered to its proper receptacle, with prolonged relish, two -several pinches of rappee. - -"So, so," murmured he, complacently, "I suspect I have seen the last of -honest Mr. Audley--a little surprised and a little angry he does appear -to be--dear me!--he stamps fearfully--what a very strange creature it -is." - -Having made this reflection, Sir Richard continued to listen pleasantly -until the sounds were lost in the distance; he then rang a small -hand-bell which lay upon the table, and a servant entered. - -"Tell Mistress Mary," said the baronet, "that I shall not want her just -now, and desire Mr. Henry to come hither instantly--begone, sirrah." - -The servant disappeared, and in a few moments young Ashwoode, looking -unusually pale and haggard, and dressed in a morning suit, entered the -chamber. Having saluted his father with the formality which the usages -of the time prescribed, and having surveyed himself for a moment at the -large mirror which stood in the room, and having adjusted thereat the -tie of his lace cravat, he inquired,-- - -"Pray, sir, who was that piece of 'too, too solid flesh' that passed me -scarce a minute since upon the stairs, pounding all the way with the -emphasis of a battering ram? As far as I could judge, the thing had -just been discharged from your room." - -"You have happened, for once in your life, to talk with relation to the -subject to which I would call your attention," said Sir Richard. "The -person whom you describe with your wonted facetiousness, has just been -talking with me; his name is Audley; I never saw him till this morning, -and he came coolly to make proposals, in young O'Connor's name, for -your sister's hand, promising to settle some scurvy chateaux, heaven -knows where, upon the happy pair." - -"Well, sir, and what followed?" asked the young man. - -"Why simply, sir," replied his father, "that I gave him the answer -which sent him stamping down stairs, as you saw him. I laughed in his -face, and desired him to go about his business." - -"Very good, indeed, sir," observed young Ashwoode. - -"There is no occasion for commentary, sir," continued Sir Richard. -"Attend to what I have to say: a nobleman of large fortune has -requested my permission to make his suit to your sister--_that_ I have, -of course, granted; he will arrive here to-morrow, to make a stay of -some days. I am resolved the thing _shall_ be concluded. I ought to -mention that the nobleman in question is Lord Aspenly." - -The young man looked for a moment or two the very impersonation of -astonishment, and then, burst into an uncontrollable fit of laughter. - -"Either be silent, sir, or this moment quit the room," said Sir -Richard, in a tone which few would have liked to disobey--"how dare -you--you--you insolent, dependent coxcomb--how dare you, sir, treat me -with this audacious disrespect?" - -The young man hastened to avert the storm, whose violence he had more -than once bitterly felt, by a timely submission. - -"I assure you, sir, nothing was further from my intention than to -offend you," said he--"I am fully alive--as a man of the world, I could -not be otherwise--to the immense advantages of the connection; but Lord -Aspenly I have known so long, and always looked upon as a confirmed old -bachelor, that on hearing his name thus suddenly, something of -incongruity, and--and--and I don't exactly know what--struck me so very -forcibly, that I involuntarily and very thoughtlessly began to laugh. I -assure you, sir, I regret it very much, if it has offended you." - -"You are a weak fool, sir, I am afraid," replied his father, shortly: -"but that conviction has not come upon me by surprise; you _can_, -however, be of some use in this matter, and I am determined you _shall_ -be. Now, sir, mark me: I suspect that this young fellow--this O'Connor, -is not so indifferent to Mary as he should be to a daughter of mine, -and it is more than possible that he may endeavour to maintain his -interest in her affections, imaginary or real, by writing letters, -sending messages, and such manoeuvring. Now, you must call upon the -young man, wherever he is to be found, and either procure from him a -distinct pledge to the effect that he will think no more of her (the -young fellow has a sense of honour, and I would rely upon his promise), -or else you must have him out--in short, make him _fight_ you--you -attend, sir--if _you_ get hurt, we can easily make the country too hot -to hold him; and if, on the other hand, _you_ poke _him_ through the -body, there's an end of the whole difficulty. This step, sir, you -_must_ take--you understand me--I am very much in earnest." - -This was delivered with a cold deliberateness, which young Ashwoode -well understood, when his father used it to imply a fixity of purpose, -such as brooked no question, and halted at no obstacle. - -"Sir," replied Henry Ashwoode, after an embarrassed pause of a few -minutes, "you are not aware of _one_ particular connected with last -night's affray--you have heard that poor Darby, who rode with me, was -actually brained, and that _I_ escaped a like fate by the interposition -of one who, at his own personal risk, saved my life--that one was the -very Edmond O'Connor of whom we speak." - -"What you allude to," observed Sir Richard, with very edifying -coolness, "is, no doubt, very shocking and very horrible. I regret the -destruction of the man, although I neither saw nor knew much about him; -and for your eminently providential escape, I trust I am fully as -thankful as I ought to be; and now, granting all you have said to be -perfectly accurate--which I take it to be--what conclusion do you wish -me to draw from it?" - -"Why, sir, without pretending to any very extraordinary proclivity to -gratitude," replied the young man--"for O'Connor told me plainly that -he did not expect any--I must consider what the world will say, if I -return what it will be pleased to regard as an obligation, by -challenging the person who conferred it." - -"Good, sir--good," said the baronet, calmly: and gazing upon the -ceiling with elevated eyebrows and a bitter smile, he added, -reflectively, "he's afraid--afraid--afraid--ay, afraid--afraid." - -"You wrong me very much, sir," rejoined young Ashwoode, "if you imagine -that fear has anything to do with my reluctance to act as you would -have me; and no less do you wrong me, if you think I would allow any -school-boy sentimentalism to stand in the way of my family's interests. -My _real_ objection to the thing is this--first, that I cannot see any -satisfactory answer to the question, What will the world say of my -conduct, in case I force a duel upon him the day after he has saved my -life?--and again, I think it inevitably damages any young woman in the -matrimonial market, to have low duels fought about her." - -Sir Richard screwed his eyebrows reflectively, and remained silent. - -"But at the same time, sir," continued his son, "I see as clearly as -you could wish me to do, the importance, under present circumstances--or -rather the absolute necessity--of putting a stop to O'Connor's suit; -and, in short, to all communication between him and my sister, and I -will undertake to do this effectually." - -"And how, sir, pray?" inquired the baronet. - -"I shall, as a matter of course, wait upon the young man," replied -Henry Ashwoode--"his services of last night demand that I should do so. -I will explain to him, in a friendly way, the hopelessness of his suit. -I should not hesitate either to throw a little colouring of my own over -the matter. If I can induce O'Connor once to regard me as his -friend--and after all, it is but the part of a friend to put a stop to -this foolish affair--I will stake my existence that the matter shall be -broken off for ever and a day. If, however, the young fellow turn out -foolish and pig-headed, I can easily pick a quarrel with him upon some -other subject, and get him out of the way as you propose; but without -mixing up my sister's name in the dispute, or giving occasion for -gossip. However, I half suspect that it will require neither crafty -stratagem nor shrewd blows to bring this absurd business to an end. I -daresay the parties are beginning to tire heartily of waiting, and -perhaps a little even of one another; and, for my part, I really do not -know that the girl ever cared for him, or gave him the smallest -encouragement." - -"But _I_ know that she _did_," replied Sir Richard. "Carey has shown me -letters from her to him, and from him to her, not six months since. -Carey is a very useful woman, and may do us important service. I did -not choose to mention that I had seen these letters; but I sounded Mary -somewhat sternly, and left her with a caution which I think must have -produced a salutary effect--in short, I told her plainly, that if I had -reason to suspect any correspondence or understanding between her and -O'Connor, I should not scruple to resort to the sternest and most -rigorous interposition of parental authority, to put an end to it -peremptorily. I confess, however, that I have misgivings about this. I -regard it as a very serious obstacle--one, however, which, so sure as I -live, I will entirely annihilate." - -There was a pause for a little while, and Sir Richard continued,-- - -"There is a good deal of sense in what you have suggested. We will talk -it over and arrange operations systematically this evening. I presume -you intend calling upon the fellow to-day; it might not be amiss if you -had him to dine with you once or twice in town: you must get up a kind -of confidential acquaintance with him, a thing which you can easily -terminate, as soon as its object is answered. He is, I believe, what -they call a frank, honest sort of fellow, and is, of course, very -easily led; and--and, in short--made a _fool_ of: as for the girl, I -think I know something of the sex, and very few of them are so romantic -as not to understand the value of a title and ten thousand a year! -Depend upon it, in spite of all her sighs, and vapours, and romance, -the girl will be dazzled so effectually before three weeks, as to be -blind to every other object in the world; but if not, and should she -dare to oppose my wishes, I'll make her cross-grained folly more -terrible to her than she dreams of--but she knows me too well--she -_dares_ not." - -Both parties remained silent and abstracted for a time, and then Sir -Richard, turning sharply to his son, exclaimed, with his usual tart -manner,-- - -"And now, sir, I must admit that I am a good deal tired of your very -agreeable company. Go about your business, if you please, and be in -this room this evening at half-past six o'clock. You had _better_ not -forget to be punctual; and, for the present, get out of my sight." - -With this very affectionate leave-taking, Sir Richard put an end to the -family consultation, and the young man, relieved of the presence of the -only person on earth whom he really feared, gladly closed the door -behind him. - - - - -CHAPTER XI. - -THE OLD BEECH-TREE WALK AND THE IVY-GROWN GATEWAY--THE TRYSTE AND TUE -CRUTCH-HANDLED CANE. - - -In the snug old "Cock and Anchor," the morning after the exciting -scenes in which O'Connor had taken so active a part, that gentleman was -pacing the floor of his sitting-room in no small agitation. On the -result of that interview, which he had resolved no longer to postpone, -depended his happiness for years--it might be for life. Again and again -he applied himself to the task of arranging clearly and concisely, and -withal adroitly and with tact, the substance of what he had to say to -Sir Richard Ashwoode. But, spite of all, his mind would wander to the -pleasant hours he had passed with Mary Ashwoode in the quiet green wood -and by the dark well's side, and through the moss-grown rocks, and by -the chiming current of the wayward brook, long before the cold and -worldly had suspected and repulsed that love which he knew could never -die but when his heart had ceased to beat for ever. Again would he, -banishing with a stoical effort these unbidden visions of memory, seek -to accomplish the important task which he had proposed to himself; but -still all in vain. There was she once more--there was the pale, -pensive, lovely face--there the long, dark, silken tresses--there the -deep, beautiful eyes--and there the smile--the artless, melancholy, -enchanting smile. - -"It boots not trying," exclaimed O'Connor. "I cannot collect my -thoughts; and yet what use in conning over the order and the words of -what, after all, will be judged merely by its meaning? Perhaps it is -better that I should yield myself wholly up to the impulse of the -moment, and so speak but the more directly and the more boldly. No; -even in such a cause I will not accommodate myself to his cramp and -crooked habits of thought and feeling. If I let him know all, it -matters little how he learns it." - -As O'Connor finished this sentence, his meditations were dispelled by -certain sounds, which issued from the passage leading to his room. - -"A young man," exclaimed a voice, interrupted by a good deal of puffing -and blowing, probably caused by the steep ascent, "and a good-looking, -eh?--(puff)--dark eyes, eh?--(puff, puff)--black hair and straight -nose, eh?--(puff, puff)--long-limbed, tall, eh?--(puff)." - -The answers to these interrogatories, whatever they may have been, -were, where O'Connor stood, wholly inaudible; but the cross-examination -was accompanied throughout by a stout, firm, stumping tread upon the -old floor, which, along with the increasing clearness with which the -noise made its way to O'Connor's door, sufficiently indicated that the -speaker was approaching. The accents were familiar to him. He ran to -his door, opened it; and in an instant Hugh Audley, Esquire, very hot -and very much out of breath, pitched himself, with a good deal of -precision, shoulders foremost, against the pit of the young man's -stomach, and, embracing him a little above the hips, hugged him for -some time in silence, swaying him to and fro with extraordinary energy, -as if preparatory to tripping him up, and taking him off his feet -altogether--then giving him a shove straight from him, and holding him -at arm's length, he looked with brimful eyes, and a countenance beaming -with delight, full in O'Connor's face. - -"Confound the dog, how well he looks," exclaimed the old gentleman, -vehemently--"devilish well, curse him!" and he gave O'Connor a shove -with his knuckles, and succeeded in staggering himself--"never saw you -look better in my life, nor anyone else for that matter; and how is -every inch of you, and what have you been doing with yourself? Come, -you young dog, account for yourself." - -O'Connor had now, for the first time, an opportunity of bidding the -kind old gentleman welcome, which he did to the full as cordially, if -not so boisterously. - -"Let me sit down and rest myself: I must take breath for a minute," -exclaimed the old gentleman. "Give me a chair, you undutiful rascal. -What a devil of a staircase that is, to be sure. Well, and what do you -intend doing with yourself to-day?" - -"To say the truth," said the young man, while a swarthier glow crossed -his dark features. "I was just about to start for Morley Court, to see -Sir Richard Ashwoode." - -"About his daughter, I take it?" inquired the old gentleman. - -"Just so, sir," replied the younger man. - -"Then you may spare yourself the pains," rejoined the old gentleman, -briskly. "You are better at home. You have been forestalled." - -"What--how, sir? What do you mean?" asked O'Connor, in great perplexity -and alarm. - -"Just what I say, my boy. You have been forestalled." - -"By whom, sir?" - -"By me." - -"By you?" - -"Ay." - -The old gentleman screwed his brows and pursed up his mouth until it -became a Gordian involution of knots and wrinkles, threw a fierce and -determined expression into his eyes, and wagged his head slightly from -side to side--looking altogether very like a "Cromwell guiltless of his -country's blood." At length he said,-- - -"I'm an old fellow, and ought to know something by this time--think I -_do_, for that matter; and I say deliberately--cut the whole concern -and blow them all." - -Having thus delivered himself, the old gentleman resumed his sternest -expression of countenance, and continued in silence to wag his head -from time to time with an air of infinite defiance, leaving his young -companion, if possible, more perplexed and bewildered than ever. - -"And have you, then, seen Sir Richard Ashwoode?" inquired O'Connor. - -"Have I seen him?" rejoined the old gentleman. "To be sure I have. The -moment the boat touched the quay, and I fairly felt _terra firma_, I -drove to the 'Fox in Breeches,' and donned a handsome suit"--(here the -gentleman glanced cursorily at his bottle-green habiliments)--"I -ordered a hack-coach--got safely to Morley Court--saw Sir Richard, laid -up with the gout, looking just like an old, dried-up, cross-grained -monkey. There was, of course, a long explanation, and all that sort of -thing--a good deal of tact and diplomacy on my side, doubling about, -neat fencing, and circumbendibus; but all would not do--an infernal -_smash_. Sir Richard was all but downright uncivil--would not hear of -it--said plump and plain he would never consent. The fact is, he's a -sour, hard, insolent old scoundrel, and a bitter pill; and I -congratulate you heartily on having escaped all connection with him and -his. Don't look so down in the mouth about the matter; there's as good -fish in the sea as ever was caught; and if the young woman is half such -a shrew as her father is a tartar, you have had an escape to be -thankful for the longest day you live." - -We shall not attempt to describe the feelings with which O'Connor -received this somewhat eccentric communication. He folded his arms upon -the table, and for many minutes leaned his head upon them, without -motion, and without uttering one word. At length he said,-- - -"After all, I ought to have expected this. Sir Richard is a bigoted man -in his own faith--an ambitious and a worldly man, too. It was folly, -mere folly, knowing all this, to look for any other answer from him. He -may indeed delay our union for a little, but he cannot bar it--he -_shall_ not bar it. I could more easily doubt myself than Mary's -constancy; and if she be but firm and true--and she is all loyalty and -all truth--the world cannot part us two. Our separation cannot outlast -his life; nor shall it last so long. I will overcome her scruples, -combat all her doubts, satisfy her reason. She will consent--she will -be mine--my own--through life and until death. No hand shall sunder us -for ever,"--he turned to the old man, and grasped his hand--"My dear, -kind, true friend, how can I ever thank you for all your generous acts -of kindness. I cannot." - -"Never mind, never mind, my dear boy," said the old gentleman, -blubbering in spite of himself--"never mind--what a d----d old fool I -am, to be sure. Come, come, you, shall take a turn with me towards the -country, and get an appetite for dinner. You'll be as well as ever in -half an hour. When all's done, you stand no worse than you did -yesterday; and if the girl's a good girl, as I make no doubt she is, -why, you are sure of her constancy--and the devil himself shall not -part you. Confound me if I don't run away with the girl for you myself -if you make a pother about the matter. Come along, you dog--come along, -I say." - -"Nay, sir," replied O'Connor, "forgive me. I am keenly pained. I am -agitated--confounded at the suddenness of this--this dreadful blow. I -will go alone, pardon me, my kind and dear friend, I must go _alone_. I -may chance to see the lady. I am sure she will not fail me--she will -meet me. Oh! heart and brain, be still--be steady--I need your best -counsels now. Farewell, sir--for a little time, farewell." - -"Well, be it so--since so it _must_ be," said Mr. Audley, who did not -care to combat a resolution, announced with all the wild energy of -despairing passion, "by all means, my dear boy, _alone_ it shall be, -though I scarce think you would be the worse of a staid old fellow's -company in your ramble--but no matter, boys will be boys while the -world goes round." - -The conclusion of this sentence was a soliloquy, for O'Connor had -already descended to the inn yard, where he procured a horse, and was -soon, with troubled mind and swelling heart, making rapid way toward -Morley Court. It was now the afternoon--the sun had made nearly half -his downward course--the air was soft and fresh, and the birds sang -sweetly in the dark nooks and bowers of the tall trees: it seemed -almost as if summer had turned like a departing beauty, with one last -look of loveliness to gladden the scene which she was regretfully -leaving. So sweet and still the air--so full and mellow the thrilling -chorus of merry birds among the rustling leaves, flitting from bough to -bough in the clear and lofty shadow--so cloudless the golden flood of -sunlight. Such was the day--so gladsome the sounds--so serene the -aspect of all nature--as O'Connor, dismounting under the shadow of a -tall, straggling hawthorn hedge, and knotting the bridle in one of its -twisted branches, crossed a low stile, and thus entered the grounds of -Morley Court. He threaded a winding path which led through a neglected -wood of thorn and oak, and found himself after a few minutes in the -spot he sought. The old beech walk had been once the main avenue to the -house. Huge beech-trees flung their mighty boughs high in air across -its long perspective--and bright as was the day, the long lane lay in -shadow deep and solemn as that of some old Gothic aisle. Down this dim -vista did O'Connor pace with hurried steps toward the spot where, about -midway in its length, there stood the half-ruined piers and low walls -of what had once been a gateway. - -"Can it be that she shrinks from this meeting?" thought O'Connor, as -his eye in vain sought the wished-for form of Mary Ashwoode, "will she -disappoint me?--surely she who has walked with me so many lonely hours -in guileless trust need not have feared to meet me here. It was not -generous to deny me this boon--to her so easy--to me so rich--yet -perchance she judges wisely. What boots it that I should see her? Why -see again that matchless beauty--that touching smile--those eyes that -looked so fondly on me? Why see her more--since mayhap we shall never -meet again? She means it kindly. Her nature is all nobleness--all -generosity; and yet--and yet to see her no more--to hear her voice no -more--have we--have we then parted at last for ever? But no--by -heavens--'tis she--Mary!" - -It was indeed Mary Ashwoode, blushing and beautiful as ever. In an -instant O'Connor stood by her side. - -"My own--my true-hearted Mary." - -"Oh! Edmond," said she, after a brief silence, "I fear I have done -wrong--have I?--in meeting you thus. I ought not--indeed I know I ought -not to have come." - -"Nay, Mary, do not speak thus. Dear Mary, have we not been companions -in many a pleasant ramble: in those times--the times, Mary, that will -never come again? Why, then, should you deny me a few minutes' mournful -converse, where in other days we two have passed so many pleasant -hours?" - -There was in the tone in which he spoke something so unutterably -melancholy--and in the recollections which his few simple words called -crowding to her mind, something at once so touching, so dearly -cherished, and so bitterly regretted--that the tears gathered in her -full dark eyes, and fell one by one fast and unheeded. - -"You do not grieve, then, Mary," said he, "that you have come -here--that we have met once more: do you, Mary?" - -"No, no, Edmond--no, indeed," answered she, sobbing. "God knows I do -not, Edmond--no, no." - -"Well, Mary," said he, "I am happy in the belief that you feel toward -me just as you used to do--as happy as one so wretched can hope to be." - -"Edmond, your words affright me," said she, fixing her eyes full upon -him with imploring earnestness: "you look sadder--paler than you did -yesterday; something has happened since then. What--what is it, Edmond? -tell me--ah, tell me!" - -"Yes, Mary, much has happened," answered he, taking her hand between -both of his, and meeting her gaze with a look of passionate sorrow and -tenderness--"yes, Mary, without my knowledge, the friend of whom I told -you had arrived, and this morning saw your father, told him _all_, and -was repulsed with sternness--almost with insult. Sir Richard has -resolved that it shall never be; there is no more hope of bending -him--none--none--none." - -While O'Connor spoke, the colour in Mary's cheeks came and fled in turn -with quick alternations, in answer to every throb and flutter of the -poor heart within. - -"See him--speak to him--yourself, Edmond, yourself. Oh! do not -despair--see him--speak to him," she almost whispered, for agitation -had well-nigh deprived her of voice--"see him, Edmond--yourself--for -God's sake, dear Edmond--yourself--yourself"--and she grasped his arm -in her tiny hand, and gazed in his pale face with such a look of -agonized entreaty as cut him to the very heart. - -"Yes, Mary, if it seems good to you, I will speak to him myself," said -O'Connor, with deep melancholy. "I will, Mary, though my own heart--my -reason--tells me it is all--all utterly in vain; but, Mary," continued -he, suddenly changing his tone to one of more alacrity, "if he should -still reject me--if he shall forbid our ever meeting more--if he shall -declare himself unalterably resolved against our union--Mary, in such a -case, would you, too, tell me to see you no more--would you, too, tell -me to depart without hope, and never come again? or would you, -Mary--could you--dare you--dear, dear Mary, for once--once -only--disobey your stern and haughty father--dare you trust yourself -with me--fly with me to France, and be at last, and after all, my -own--my bride?" - -"No, Edmond," said she, solemnly and sadly, while her eyes again filled -with tears; and though she trembled like the leaf on the tree, yet he -knew by the sound of her sad voice that her purpose could not -alter--"that can never be--never, Edmond--no--no." - -"Then, Mary, can it be," he answered, with an accent so desolate that -despair itself seemed breathing in its tone--"can it be, after all--all -we have passed and proved--all our love and constancy, and all our -bright hopes, so long and fondly cherished--cherished in the midst of -grief and difficulty--when we had no other stay but hope alone--are we, -after all--at last, to part for ever?--is it, indeed, Mary, all--all -over?" - -As the two lovers stood thus in deep and melancholy converse by the -ivy-grown and ruined gateway, beneath the airy shadow of the old -beech-trees, they were recalled to other thoughts by the hurried patter -of footsteps, and the rustling of the branches among the underwood -which skirted the avenue. As fortune willed it, however, the intruder -was no other than the honest dog, Rover, Mary's companion in many a -silent and melancholy ramble; he came sniffing and bounding with -boisterous greeting to hail his young mistress and her companion. The -interruption, harmless as it was, startled Mary Ashwoode. - -"Were my father to find us here, Edmond," said she, "it were fatal to -all our hopes. You know his temper well. Let us then part here. Follow -the by-path leading to the house. Go and see him--speak with him for my -sake--for my sake, Edmond--and so--and so--farewell." - -"And farewell, Mary, since it must be," said O'Connor, with a bitter -struggle. "Farewell, but only for a time--only for a little time, Mary; -and whatever befalls, remember--remember me. Farewell, Mary." - -As he thus spoke, he raised her hand to his lips, and kissed it for the -first time, it might be for the last, in his life. For a moment he -stood, and gazed with sad devotion upon the loved face. Then, with an -effort, he turned abruptly away, and strode rapidly in the direction -she had indicated; and when he turned to look again, she was gone. - -O'Connor followed the narrow path, which, diverging a little from the -broad grass lane, led with many a wayward turn among the tall trees -toward the house. As he thus pursued his way, a few moments of -reflection satisfied him of the desperate nature of the enterprise -which he had undertaken. But if lovers are often upon unreal grounds -desponding, it is likewise true that they are sometimes sanguine when -others would despair; and, spite of all his misgivings--of all the -irresistible conclusions of stern reason--hope still beckoned him on. -Thus agitated, he pursued his way, until, on turning an abrupt angle, -he beheld, scarcely more than a dozen paces in advance, and moving -slowly toward him in the shadowy pathway, a figure, at sight of which, -thus suddenly presented, he recoiled, and stood for a moment fixed as a -statue. He had encountered the object of his search. The form was that -of Sir Richard Ashwoode himself, who, wrapped in his scarlet -roquelaure, and leaning upon the shoulder of his Italian valet, while -he limped forward slowly and painfully, appeared full before him. - -"So, so, so, so," repeated the baronet, at first with unaffected -astonishment, which speedily, however, deepened into intense but -constrained anger--his dark, prominent eyes peering fiercely upon the -young man, while, stooping forward, and clutching his crutch-handled -cane hard in his lean fingers, he limped first one and then another -step nearer. - -"Mr. O'Connor! or my eyes deceive me." - -"Yes, Sir Richard," replied O'Connor, with a haughty bow, and advancing -a little toward him in turn. "I am that Edmond O'Connor whom you once -knew well, and whom it would seem you still know. I ought, doubtless----" - -"Nay, sir, no flowers of rhetoric, if you please," interrupted Sir -Richard, bitterly--"no fustian speeches--to the point--to the point, -sir. If you have ought to say to me, deliver it in six words. Your -business, sir. Be brief." - -"I will not indeed waste words, Sir Richard Ashwoode," replied -O'Connor, firmly. "There is but one subject on which I would seek a -conference with you, and that subject you well may guess." - -"I _do_ guess it," retorted Sir Richard. "You would renew an absurd -proposal--one opened three years since, and repeated this morning by -the old booby, your elected spokesman. To that proposal I have ever -given one answer--no. I have not changed my mind, nor ever shall. Am I -understood, sir? And least of all should I think of changing my purpose -now," continued he, more pointedly, as a suspicion crossed his -mind--"_now_, sir, that you have forfeited by your own act whatever -regard you once seemed to me to merit. You did not seek _me_ here, sir. -I'm not to be fooled, sir. You did not seek me--don't assert it. I -understand your purpose. You came here clandestinely to tamper like a -schemer with my child. Yes, sir, a schemer!" repeated Sir Richard, with -bitter emphasis, while his sharp sallow features grew sharper and more -sallow still; and he struck the point of his cane at every emphatic -word deep into the sod--"a mean, interested, cowardly schemer. How dare -you steal into my place, you thrice-rejected, dishonourable, spiritless -adventurer?" - -The blood rushed to O'Connor's brow as the old man uttered this -insulting invective. The fiery impulse which under other circumstances -would have been uncontrollable, was, however, speedily, though with -difficulty, mastered; and O'Connor replied bitterly,-- - -"You are an old man, Sir Richard, and _her_ father--you are safe, sir. -How much of chivalry or courage is shown in heaping insult upon one who -_will_ not retort upon you, judge for yourself. Alter what has passed, -I feel that I were, indeed, the vile thing you have described, if I -were again to subject myself to your unprovoked insolence: be assured, -I shall never place foot of mine within your boundaries again: relieve -yourself, sir, of all fears upon that score; and for your language, you -know you can appreciate the respect that makes me leave you thus -unanswered and unpunished." - -So saying, he turned, and with long and rapid strides retraced his -steps, his heart swelling with a thousand struggling emotions. Scarce -knowing what he did, O'Connor rode rapidly to the "Cock and Anchor," -and too much stunned and confounded by the scenes in which he had just -borne a part to exchange a word with Mr. Audley, whom he found still -established in his chamber, he threw himself dejectedly into a chair, -and sank into gloomy and obstinate abstraction. The good-natured old -gentleman did not care to interrupt his young friend's ruminations, and -hours might have passed away and found them still undisturbed, were it -not that the door was suddenly thrown open, and the waiter announced -Mr. Ashwoode. There was a spell in the name which instantly recalled -O'Connor to the scene before him. Had a viper sprung up at his feet, he -could not have recoiled with a stronger antipathy. With a mixture of -feelings scarcely tolerable, he awaited his arrival, and after a moment -or two of suspense, Henry Ashwoode entered the room. - -Mr. Audley, having heard the name, scowled fearfully from the centre of -the room upon the young gentleman as he entered, stuffed his hands -half-way to the elbows in his breeches pockets, and turning briskly -upon his heel, marched emphatically to the window, and gazed out into -the inn yard with remarkable perseverance. The obvious coldness with -which he was received did not embarrass young Ashwoode in the least. -With perfect ease and a graceful frankness of demeanour, he advanced to -O'Connor, and after a greeting of extraordinary warmth, inquired how he -had gotten home, and whether he had suffered since any inconvenience -from the fall which he had. He then went on to renew his protestations -of gratitude for O'Connor's services, with so much ardour and apparent -heartiness, that spite of his prejudices, the old man was moved in his -favour; and when Ashwoode expressed in a low voice to O'Connor his wish -to be introduced to his friend, honest Mr. Audley felt his heart quite -softened, and instead of merely bowing to him, absolutely shook him by -the hand. The young man then, spite of O'Connor's evident reluctance, -proceeded to relate to his new acquaintance the details of the -adventures of the preceding night, in doing which, he took occasion to -dwell, in the most glowing terms, upon his obligations to O'Connor. -After sitting with them for nearly half an hour, young Ashwoode took -his leave in the most affectionate manner possible, and withdrew. - -"Well, that _is_ a good-looking young fellow, and a warm-hearted," -exclaimed the old gentleman, as soon as the visitor had -disappeared--"what a pity he should be cursed with such a confounded -old father." - - - - -CHAPTER XII. - -THE APPOINTED HOUR--THE SCHEMERS AND THE PLOT. - - -"And here comes my dear brother," exclaimed Mary Ashwoode, joyously, as -she ran to welcome the young man, now entering her father's room, in -which, for more than an hour previously, she had been sitting. Throwing -her arm round his neck, and looking sweetly in his face, she -continued--"You _will_ stay with us this evening, dear Harry--do, for -my sake--you won't refuse--it is so long since we have had you;" and -though she spoke with a gay look and a gladsome voice, a sense of real -solitariness called a tear to her dark eye. - -"No, Mary--not this evening," said the young man coldly; "I must be in -town again to-night, and before I go must have some conversation upon -business with my father, so that I may not see you again till morning." - -"But, dear Henry," said she, still clinging affectionately to his arm, -"you have been in such danger, and I knew nothing of it until after you -went out this morning: are you quite well, Henry?--you were not -hurt--were you?" - -"No, no--nothing--nothing--I never was better," said he, impatiently. - -"Well, brother--_dear_ brother," she continued imploringly, "come early -home to-night--do not be upon the road late--won't you promise?" - -"There, there, there," said he rudely, "run away--take your work, or -your book, or whatever it may be, down stairs; your father wants to -speak with me alone," and so saying, he turned pettishly from her. - -His habitual coldness and carelessness of manner had never before -seemed so ungracious. The poor girl felt her heart swell within her, as -though it would burst. She had never felt so keenly that in all this -world there lived but one being upon whose love she might rely, and he -separated, it might be for ever, from her: she gathered up her work, -and ran quickly from the room, to hide the tears which she could not -restrain. - -Young Ashwoode was to the full as worldly and as unprincipled a man as -was his father; and whatever reluctance he may have felt as to adopting -Sir Richard's plans respecting O'Connor, the reader would grievously -wrong him in attributing his unwillingness to any visitings of -gratitude, or, indeed, to any other feeling than that which he had -himself avowed. A few hours' reflection had satisfied the young man of -the transcendent importance of securing Lord Aspenly; and by a -corresponding induction he had arrived at the conclusion to which his -father had already come--namely, that it was imperatively necessary by -all means to put an end effectually to his sister's correspondence with -O'Connor. To effect this object both were equally resolved; and with -respect to the means to be employed both were equally unscrupulous. -With Henry Ashwoode courage was constitutional, and art habitual. If, -therefore, either duplicity or daring could ensure success, he felt -that he must triumph; and, at all events, he was sufficiently impressed -with the importance of the object, to resolve to leave nothing untried -for its achievement. - -"You _are_ punctual, sir," said Sir Richard, glancing at his -richly-chased watch; "sit down; I have considered your suggestions of -this morning, and I am inclined to adopt them; it is most probable that -Mary, like the rest of her sex, will be taken by the splendour of the -proposal--fascinated--in short, as I said this morning--dazzled. Now, -whether she be or not--observe me, it shall be our object to make -O'Connor believe that she _is_ so. You will have his ear, and through -her maid, Carey, I can manage their correspondence; not a letter from -either can reach the other, without first meeting my eye. I am very -certain that the young fellow will lose no time in writing to her some -more of those passionate epistles, of which, as I told you, I have seen -a sample. I shall take care to have their letters _re_-written for the -future, before they come to hand; and it shall go hard, or between us -we shall manage to give each a very moderate opinion of the other's -constancy; thus the affair will--or rather must--die a natural -death--after all, the most effectual kind of mortality in such cases." - -"I called to-day upon the fellow," said the young man. "I made him out, -and without approaching the point of nearest interest, I have, -nevertheless, opened operations successfully--so far as a most -auspicious re-commencement of our acquaintance may be so accounted." - -"And, stranger still to say," rejoined the baronet, "I also encountered -him to-day; but only for some dozen seconds." - -"How!--saw O'Connor!" exclaimed young Ashwoode. - -"Yes, sir, O'Connor--Edmond O'Connor," repeated Sir Richard. "He was -coolly walking up to the house to see me, as it would seem; and I do -believe the fellow speaks truth--he _did_ see me, and that is all. I -fancy he will scarcely come here again uninvited; he said so pretty -plainly, and I believe the fellow has spirit enough to feel an -affront." - -"He did not see Mary?" inquired Henry. - -"I did not ask him, and don't choose to ask her; I don't mean to allude -to the subject in her presence," replied Sir Richard, quickly. "I -think--indeed I _know_--I can mar their plans better by appearing never -once to apprehend anything from O'Connor's pretensions. I have reasons, -too, for not wishing to deal harshly with Mary _at present_; we must -have no _scenes_, if possible. Were I to appear suspicious and uneasy, -it would put them on their guard. And now, upon the other point, did -you speak to Craven about the possibility of raising ten thousand -pounds on the Glenvarlogh property?" - -"He says it can be done very easily, if Mary joins you," replied the -young man; "but I have been thinking that if you ask her to sign any -deed, it might as well be one assigning over her interest absolutely to -you. Aspenly does not want a penny with her--in fact, from what fell -from him to-day, when I met him in town, I'm inclined to think he -believes that she has not a penny in the world; so she may as well make -it over to you, and then we can turn it all into money when and how we -please. I desired Craven to work night and day at the deeds, and have -them over by ten o'clock to-morrow morning." - -"You did quite rightly," rejoined the old gentleman. "I hardly expect -any opposition from the girl--at least no more than I can easily -frighten her out of. Should she prove sulky, however, I do not well -know where to turn: as to asking my brother Oliver, I might as well, or -_better_, ask a Jew broker; he hates me and mine with his whole heart; -and to say the truth, there is not much love lost between us. No, no, -there's nothing to be looked for in that quarter. I daresay we'll -manage one way or another--lead or drive to get Mary to sign the deed, -and if so, the ship rights again. Craven comes, you say, at ten -to-morrow?" - -"He engaged to be here at that hour with the deeds," repeated the young -man. - -"Well," said his father, yawning, "you have nothing more to say, nor I -neither--oblige me by withdrawing." So parted these congenial -relations. - -The past day had been an agitating one to Mary Ashwoode. Still suspense -was to be her doom, and the same alternations of hope and of despair -were again to rob her pillow of repose; yet even thus, happy was she in -comparison with what she must have been, had she but known the schemes -of which she was the unconscious subject. At this juncture we shall -leave the actors in this true tale, and conclude the chapter with the -close of day. - - - - -CHAPTER XIII. - -THE INTERVIEW--THE PARCHMENT--AND THE NOBLEMAN'S COACH. - - -Sir Richard Ashwoode had never in the whole course of his life denied -himself the indulgence of any passion or of any whim. From his -childhood upward he had never considered the feelings or comforts of -any living being but himself alone. As he advanced in life, this -selfishness had improved to a degree of hardness and coldness so -intense, that if ever he had felt a kindly impulse at any moment in his -existence, the very remembrance of it had entirely faded from his mind: -so that generosity, compassion, and natural affection were to him not -only unknown, but incredible. To him mankind seemed all either fools, -or such as he himself was. Without one particle of principle of any -kind, he had uniformly maintained in the world the character of an -honourable man. The ordinary rules of honesty and morality he regarded -as so many conventional sentiments, to which every gentleman -subscribed, as a matter of course, in public, but which in private he -had an unquestionable right to dispense with at his own convenience. He -was imperious, fiery, and unforgiving to the uttermost; but when he -conceived it advantageous to do so, he could practise as well as any -man the convenient art of masking malignity, hatred, and inveteracy -behind the pleasantest of all pleasant smiles. Capable of any secret -meanness for the sake of the smallest advantage to be gained by it, he -was yet full of fierce and overbearing pride; and although this world -was all in all to him, yet there never breathed a man who could on the -slightest provocation risk his life in mortal combat with more alacrity -and absolute _sang froid_ than Sir Richard Ashwoode. In his habits he -was unboundedly luxurious--in his expenditure prodigal to recklessness. -His own and his son's extravagance, which he had indulged from a kind -of pride, was now, however, beginning to make itself sorely felt in -formidable and rapidly accumulating pecuniary embarrassments. These had -served to embitter and exasperate a temper which at the best had never -been a very sweet one, and of whose ordinary pitch the reader may form -an estimate, when he hears that in the short glimpses which he has had -of Sir Richard, the baronet happened to be, owing to the circumstances -with which we have acquainted him, in extraordinarily good humour. - -Sir Richard had not married young; and when he did marry it was to pay -his debts. The lady of his choice was beautiful, accomplished, and an -heiress; and, won by his agreeability, and by his well-assumed -devotedness and passion, she yielded to the pressure of his suit. They -were married, and she gave birth successively to a son and a daughter. -Sir Richard's temper, as we have hinted, was not very placid, nor his -habits very domestic; nevertheless, the world thought the match -(putting his money difficulties out of the question) a very suitable -and a very desirable one, and took it for granted that the gay baronet -and his lady were just as happy as a fashionable man and wife ought to -be--and perhaps they were so; but, for all that, it happened that at -the end of some four years the young wife died of a broken heart. Some -strange scenes, it is said, followed between Sir Richard and the -brother of the deceased lady, Oliver French. It is believed that this -gentleman suspected the cause of Lady Ashwoode's death--at all events -he had ascertained that she had not been kindly used, and after one or -two interviews with the baronet, in which bitter words were exchanged, -the matter ended in a fierce and bloodily contested duel, in which the -baronet received three desperate wounds. His recovery was long -doubtful; but life burns strongly in some breasts; and, contrary to the -desponding predictions of his surgeons, the valuable life of Sir -Richard Ashwoode was prolonged to his family and friends. - -Since then, Sir Richard had by different agencies sought to bring about -a reconciliation with his brother-in-law, but without the smallest -success. Oliver French was a bachelor, and a very wealthy one. -Moreover, he had it in his power to dispose of his lands and money just -as he pleased. These circumstances had strongly impressed Sir Richard -with a conviction that quarrels among relations are not only unseemly, -but un-Christian. He was never in a more forgiving and forgetting mood. -He was willing even to make concessions--anything that could be -reasonably asked of him, and even more, he was ready to do--but all in -vain. Oliver was obdurate. He knew his man well. He saw and appreciated -the baronet's motives, and hated and despised him ten thousand times -more than ever. - -Repulsed in his first attempt, Sir Richard resolved to give his -adversary time to cool a little; and accordingly, after a lapse of -twelve or fourteen years, his son Henry being then a handsome lad, he -wrote to his brother-in-law a very long and touching epistle, in which -he proposed to send his son down to Ardgillagh, the place where the -alienated relative resided, with a portrait of his deceased lady, -which, of course, with no object less sacred, and to no relative less -near and respected, could he have induced himself to part. This, too, -was a total failure. Oliver French, Esquire, wrote back a very succinct -epistle, but one very full of unpleasant meaning. He said that the -portrait would be odious to him, inasmuch as it would be necessarily -associated in his mind with a marriage which had killed his sister, and -with persons whom he abhorred--that therefore he would not allow it -into his house. He stated, that to the motives which prompted his -attention he was wide awake--that he was, however, perfectly determined -that no person bearing the name or the blood of Sir Richard Ashwoode -should ever have one penny of his; adding, that the baronet could leave -his son, Mr. Henry Ashwoode, quite enough for a gentleman to live upon -respectably; and that, at all events, in his father's virtues the young -gentleman would inherit a legacy such as would insure him universal -respect, and a general welcome wherever he might happen to go, -excepting only one locality, called Ardgillagh. - -With the failure of this last attempt, of course, disappeared every -hope of success with the rich old bachelor; and the forgiving baronet -was forced to content himself, in the absence of all more substantial -rewards, with the consciousness of having done what was, under all the -circumstances, the most Christian thing he could have done, as well as -played the most knowing game, though unsuccessful, which he could have -played. - -Sir Richard Ashwoode limped downstairs to receive his intended -son-in-law, Lord Aspenly, on the day following the events which we have -detailed in our last and the preceding chapters. That nobleman had -intimated his intention to be with Sir Richard about noon. It was now -little more than ten, and the baronet was, nevertheless, restless and -fidgety. The room he occupied was a large parlour, commanding a view of -the approach to the house. Again and again he consulted his watch, and -as often hobbled over, as well as he could, to the window, where he -gazed in evident discontent down the long, straight avenue, with its -double row of fine old giant lime-trees. - -"Nearly half-past ten," muttered Sir Richard, to himself, for at his -desire he had been left absolutely alone--"ay, fully half-past, and the -fellow not come yet. No less than, two notes since eight this morning, -both of them with gratuitous mendacity renewing the appointment for ten -o'clock; and ten o'clock comes and goes, and half-an-hour more along -with it, and still no sign of Mr. Craven. If I had fixed ten o'clock to -pay his accursed, unconscionable bill of costs, he'd have been prowling -about the grounds from sunrise, and pounced upon me before the last -stroke of the clock had sounded." - -While thus the baronet was engaged in muttering his discontent, and -venting secret imprecations on the whole race of attorneys, a vehicle -rolled up to the hall-door. The bell pealed, and the knocker thundered, -and in a moment a servant entered, and announced Mr. Craven--a -square-built man of low stature, wearing his own long, grizzled hair -instead of a wig--having a florid complexion, hooked nose, beetle -brows, and long-cut, Jewish, black eyes, set close under the bridge of -his nose--who stepped with a velvet tread into the room. An unvarying -smile sate upon his thin lips, and about his whole air and manner there -was a certain indescribable sanctimoniousness, which was rather -enhanced by the puritanical plainness of his attire. - -"Sir Richard, I beg pardon--rather late, I fear," said he, in a dulcet, -insinuating tone--"hard work, nevertheless, I do assure -you--ninety-seven skins--splendidly engrossed--quite a treat--five of -my young men up all night--I have got one of them outside to witness it -along with me. Some reading in the thing, I promise you; but I hope--I -_do_ hope, I am not very late?" - -"Not at all--not at all, my dear Mr. Craven," said Sir Richard, with -his most engaging smile; for, as we have hinted, "dear Mr. Craven" had -not made the science of conveyancing peculiarly cheap in practice to -the baronet, who accordingly owed him more costs than it would have -been quite convenient to pay upon a short notice--"I'll just, with your -assistance, glance through these parchments, though to do so be but a -matter of form. Pray take a chair beside me--there. Now then to -business." - -Accordingly to business they went. Practice, they say, makes perfect, -and the baronet had had, unfortunately for himself, a great deal of it -in such matters during the course of his life. He knew how to read a -deed as well as the most experienced counsel at the Irish bar, and was -able consequently to detect with wonderfully little rummaging and -fumbling in the ninety-seven skins of closely written verbiage, the -seven lines of sense which they enveloped. Little more than -half-an-hour had therefore satisfied Sir Richard that the mass of -parchment before him, after reciting with very considerable accuracy -the deeds and process by which the lands of Glenvarlogh were settled -upon his daughter, went on to state that for and in consideration of -the sum of five shillings, good and lawful money, she, being past the -age of twenty-one, in every possible phrase and by every word which -tautology could accumulate, handed over the said lands, absolutely to -her father, Sir Richard Ashwoode, Bart., of Morley Court, in the county -of Dublin, to have, and to hold, and to make ducks and drakes of, to -the end of time, constantly affirming at the end of every sentence that -she was led to do all this for and in consideration of the sum of five -shillings, good and lawful money. As soon as Sir Richard had seen all -this, which was, as we have said, in little more than half-an-hour, he -pulled the bell, and courteously informing Mr. Craven, the immortal -author of the interesting document which he had just perused, that he -would find chocolate and other refreshments in the library, and -intimating that he would perhaps disturb him in about ten minutes, he -consigned that gentleman to the guidance of the servant, whom he also -directed to summon Miss Ashwoode to his presence. - -"Her signing this deed," thought he, as he awaited her arrival, "will -make her absolutely dependent upon me--it will make rebellion, -resistance, murmuring, impossible; she then _must_ do as I would have -her, or--Ah? my dear child," exclaimed the baronet, as his daughter -entered the room, addressing her in the sweetest imaginable voice, and -instantaneously dismissing the sinister menace which had sat upon his -countenance, and clothing it instead as suddenly with an absolute -radiance of affection, "come here and kiss me and sit down by my -side--are you well to-day? you look pale--you smile--well, well! it -cannot be anything _very_ bad. You shall run out just now with Emily. -But first, I must talk with you for a little, and, strange enough, on -business too." The old gentleman paused for an instant to arrange the -order of his address, and then continued. "Mary, I will tell you -frankly more of my affairs than I have told to almost any person -breathing. In my early days, and indeed _after_ my marriage, I was far, -_far_ too careless in money matters. I involved myself considerably, -and owing to various circumstances, tiresome now to dwell upon, I have -never been able to extricate myself from these difficulties. Henry too, -your brother, is fearfully prodigal--fearfully; and has within the last -three or four years enormously aggravated my embarrassments, and of -course multiplied my anxieties most grievously, most distractingly. I -feel that my spirits are gone, my health declining, and, worse than -all, my temper, yes--my _temper_ soured. You do not know, you cannot -know, how bitterly I feel, with what intense pain, and sorrow, and -contrition, and--and _remorse_, I reflect upon those bursts of -ill-temper, of acrimony, of passion, to which, spite of every -resistance, I am becoming every day more and more prone." Here the -baronet paused to call up a look of compunctious anguish, an effort in -which he was considerably assisted by an acute twinge in his great toe. - -"Yes," he continued, when the pain had subsided, "I am now growing old, -I am breaking very fast, sinking, I feel it--I cannot be very long a -trouble to anybody--embarrassments are closing around me on all -sides--I have not the means of extricating myself--despondency, despair -have come upon me, and with them loss of spirits, loss of health, of -strength, of everything which makes life a blessing; and, all these -privations rendered more horrible, more agonizing, by the reflection -that my ill-humour, my peevish temper, are continually taxing the -patience, wounding the feelings, perhaps alienating the affections of -those who are nearest and dearest to me." - -Here the baronet became _very_ much affected; but, lest his agitation -should be seen, he turned his head away, while he grasped his -daughter's hand convulsively: the poor girl covered his with kisses. He -had wrung her very heart. - -"There is one course," continued he, "by adopting which I might -extricate myself from all my difficulties"--here he raised his eyes -with a haggard expression, and glared wildly along the cornice--"but I -confess I have great hesitation in leaving _you_." - -He wrung her hand very hard, and groaned slightly. - -"Father, dear father," said she, "do not speak thus--do not--you -frighten me." - -"I was wrong, my dear child, to tell you of struggles of which none but -myself ought to have known anything," said the baronet, gloomily. "One -person indeed has the power to assist, I may say, to _save_ me." - -"And who is that person, father?" asked the girl. - -"Yourself," replied Sir Richard, emphatically. - -"How?--I!" said she, turning very pale, for a dreadful suspicion -crossed her mind--"how can _I_ help you, father?" - -The old gentleman explained briefly; and the girl, relieved of her -worst fears, started joyously from her seat, clapped her hands together -with gladness, and, throwing her arms about her father's neck, -exclaimed,-- - -"And is that all?--oh, father; why did you defer telling me so long? -you ought to have known how delighted I would have been to do anything -for you; indeed you ought; tell them to get the papers ready -immediately." - -"They _are_ ready, my dear," said Sir Richard, recovering his -self-possession wonderfully, and ringing the bell with a good deal of -hurry--for he fully acknowledged the wisdom of the old proverb, which -inculcates the expediency of striking while the iron's hot--"your -brother had them prepared yesterday, I believe. Inform Mr. Craven," he -continued, addressing the servant, "that I would be very glad to see -him now, and say he may as well bring in the young gentleman who has -accompanied him." - -Mr. Craven accordingly appeared, and the "young gentleman," who had but -one eye, and a very seedy coat, entered along with him. The latter -personage bustled about a good deal, slapped the deeds very -emphatically down on the table, and rumpled the parchments sonorously, -looked about for pen and ink, set a chair before the document, and then -held one side of the parchment, while Mr. Craven screwed his knuckles -down upon the other, and the parties forthwith signed; whereupon Mr. -Craven and the one-eyed young gentleman both sat down, and began to -sign away with a great deal of scratching and flourishing on the places -allotted for witnesses; after all which, Mr. Craven, raising himself -with a smile, told Miss Ashwoode, facetiously, that the Chancellor -could not have done so much for the deed as she had done; and the -one-eyed young gentleman held his nose contemplatively between his -finger and thumb, and reviewed the signatures with his solitary optic. - -Miss Ashwoode then withdrew, and Mr. Craven and the "young gentleman" -made their bows. Sir Richard beckoned to Mr. Craven, and he glided back -and closed the door, having commanded the "young gentleman" to see if -the coach was ready. - -"You see, Mr. Craven," said Sir Richard, who, spite of all his -philosophy, felt a little ashamed even that the attorney should have -seen the transaction which had just been completed--"you see, sir, I -may as well tell you candidly: my daughter, who has just signed this -deed, is about immediately to be married to Lord Aspenly; _he_ kindly -offered to lend me some fifteen thousand pounds, or thereabouts, and I -converted this offer (which I, of course, accepted), into the -assignment, from his bride, that is to be, of this little property, -giving, of course, to his lordship my personal security for the debt -which I consider as owed to him: this arrangement his lordship -preferred as the most convenient possible. I thought it right, in -strict confidence, of course, to explain the real state of the case to -you, as at first sight the thing looks selfish, and I do not wish to -stand worse in my friends' books than I actually deserve to do." This -was spoken with Sir Richard's most engaging smile, and Mr. Craven -smiled in return, most artlessly--at the same time he mentally -ejaculated, "d----d sly!" "You'll bring this security, my dear Mr. -Craven," continued the baronet, "into the market with all dispatch--do -you think you can manage twenty thousand upon it?" - -"I fear not more than fourteen, or perhaps, sixteen, with an effort. I -do not think Glenvarlogh would carry much more--I fear not; but rely -upon me, Sir Richard; I'll do everything that can be done--at all -events, I'll lose no time about it, depend upon it--I may as well take -this deed along with me--I have the rest; and title is very--_very_ -satisfactory--good-morning, Sir Richard," and the man of parchments -withdrew, leaving Sir Richard in a more benevolent mood than he had -experienced for many a long day. - -The attorney had not been many seconds gone, when a second vehicle -thundered up to the door, and a perfect storm of knocking and ringing -announced the arrival of Lord Aspenly himself. - - - - -CHAPTER XIV. - -ABOUT A CERTAIN GARDEN AND A DAMSEL--AND ALSO CONCERNING A LETTER AND A -RED LEATHERN BOX. - - -Several days passed smoothly away--Lord Aspenly was a perfect paragon -of politeness; but although his manner invariably assumed a peculiar -tenderness whenever he approached Miss Ashwoode, yet that young lady -remained in happy ignorance of his real intentions. She saw before her -a grotesque old fop, who might without any extraordinary parental -precocity have very easily been her grandfather, and in his airs and -graces, his rappee and his rouge (for his lordship condescended to -borrow a few attractions from art), and in the thousand-and-one _et -ceteras_ of foppery which were accumulated, with great exactitude and -precision, on and about his little person, she beheld nothing more than -so many indications of obstinate and inveterate celibacy, and, of -course, interpreted the exquisite attentions which were meant to -enchain her young heart, merely as so much of that formal target -practice in love's archery, in which gallant single gentlemen of -seventy, or thereabout, will sometimes indulge themselves. Emily -Copland, however, at a glance, saw and understood the nature of Lord -Aspenly's attentions, and she saw just as clearly the intended parts -and the real position of the other actors in this somewhat ill-assorted -drama, and thereupon she took counsel with herself, like a wise damsel, -and arrived at the conclusion, that with some little management she -might, very possibly, play her own cards to advantage among them. - -We must here, however, glance for a few minutes at some of the -subordinate agents in our narrative, whose interposition, nevertheless, -deeply, as well as permanently, affected the destinies of more -important personages. - -It was the habit of the beautiful Mistress Betsy Carey, every morning, -weather permitting, to enjoy a ramble in the grounds of Morley Court; -and as chance (of course it was chance) would have it, this early -ramble invariably led her through several quiet fields, and over a -stile, into a prettily-situated, but neglected flower-garden, which was -now, however, undergoing a thorough reform, according to the Dutch -taste, under the presiding inspiration of Tobias Potts. Now Tobias -Potts was a widower, having been in the course of his life twice -disencumbered. The last Mrs. Potts had disappeared some five winters -since, and Tobias was now well stricken in years; he possessed the eyes -of an owl, and the complexion of a turkey-cock, and was, moreover, -extremely hard of hearing, and, withal, a man of few words; he was, -however, hale, upright, and burly--perfectly sound in wind and limb, -and free from vice and children--had a snug domicile, consisting of two -rooms and a loft, enjoyed a comfortable salary, and had, it was -confidently rumoured, put by a good round sum of money somewhere or -other. It therefore struck Mrs. Carey very forcibly, that to be Mrs. -Potts was a position worth attaining; and accordingly, without -incurring any suspicion--for the young women generally regarded Potts -with awe, and the young men with contempt--she began, according to the -expressive phrase in such case made and provided, to set her cap at -Tobias. - -In this, his usual haunt, she discovered the object of her search, -busily employed in superintending the construction of a terrace walk, -and issuing his orders with the brevity, decision, and clearness of a -consummate gardener. - -"Good-morning, Mr. Potts," said the charming Betsy. Mr. Potts did not -hear. "Good-morning, Mr. Potts," repeated the damsel, raising her voice -to a scream. - -Tobias touched his hat with a gruff acknowledgment. - -"Well, but how beautiful you are doing it," shouted the handmaid again, -gazing rapturously upon the red earthen rampart, in which none but the -eye of an artist could have detected the rudiments of a terrace, "it's -wonderful neat, all must allow, and indeed it puzzles my head to think -how you can think of it all; it _is_ now, _raly_ elegant, so it is." - -Tobias did not reply, and the maiden continued, with a sentimental air, -and still hallooing at the top of her voice-- - -"Well, of all the trades that is--and big and little, there's a plenty -of them--there's none I'd choose, if I was a man, before the trade of a -gardener." - -"No, you would not, _I'm_ sure," was the laconic reply. - -"Oh, but I declare and purtest _I would_ though," bawled the young -woman; "for gardeners, old or young, is always so good-humoured, and -pleasant, and fresh-like. Oh, dear, but I would like to be a gardener." - -"Not an _old_ one, howsomever," growled Mr. Potts. - -"Yes, but I would though, I declare and purtest to goodness gracious," -persisted the nymph; "I'd rather of the two perfer to be an _old_ -gardener" (this was a bold stroke of oratory; but Potts did not hear -it); "I'd rather be an _old_ gardener," she screamed a second time; -"I'd rather be an _old_ gardener of the two, so I would." - -"That's more than _I_ would," replied Potts, very abruptly, and with an -air of uncommon asperity, for he silently cherished a lingering belief -in his own juvenility, and not the less obstinately that it was fast -becoming desperate--a peculiarity of which, unfortunately, until that -moment the damsel had never been apprised. This, therefore, was a turn -which a good deal disconcerted the young woman, especially as she -thought she detected a satirical leer upon the countenance of a young -man in crazy inexpressibles, who was trundling a wheelbarrow in the -immediate vicinity; she accordingly exclaimed not loud enough for -Tobias, but quite loud enough for the young man in the infirm breeches -to hear,-- - -"What an old fool. I purtest it's meat and drink to me to tease him--so -it is;" and with a forced giggle she tripped lightly away to retrace -her steps towards the house. - -As she approached the stile we have mentioned, she thought she -distinguished what appeared to be the inarticulate murmurings of some -subterranean voice almost beneath her feet. A good deal startled at so -prodigious a phenomenon, she stopped short, and immediately heard the -following brief apostrophe delivered in a rich brogue:-- - -"Aiqually beautiful and engaging--vartuous Betsy Carey--listen to the -voice of tindher emotion." - -The party addressed looked with some alarm in all directions for any -visible intimation of the speaker's presence, but in vain. At length, -from among an unusually thick and luxuriant tuft of docks and other -weeds, which grew at the edge of a ditch close by, she beheld something -red emerging, which in a few moments she clearly perceived to be the -classical countenance of Larry Toole. - -"The Lord _purtect_ us all, Mr. Toole. Why in the world do you frighten -people this way?" ejaculated the nymph, rather shrilly. - -"Whist! most evangelical iv women," exclaimed Larry in a low key, and -looking round suspiciously--"whisht! or we are ruined." - -"La! Mr. Laurence, what _are_ you after?" rejoined the damsel, with a -good deal of asperity. "I'll have you to know I'm not used to talk with -a man that's squat in a ditch, and his head in a dock plant. That's not -the way for to come up to an honest woman, sir--no more it is." - -"I'd live ten years in a ditch, and die in a dock plant," replied Larry -with enthusiasm, "for one sight iv you." - -"And is that what brought you here?" replied she, with a toss of her -head. "I purtest some people's quite overbearing, so they are, and -knows no bounds." - -"Stop a minute, most beautiful bayin'--for one instant minute pay -attintion," exclaimed Mr. Toole, eagerly, for he perceived that she had -commenced her retreat. "Tare an' owns! divine crature, it's not _goin'_ -you are?" - -"I have no notions, good or bad, Mr. Toole," replied the young lady, -with great volubility and dignity, "and no idaya in the wide world for -to be standing here prating, and talking, and losing my time with such -as you--if my business is neglected, it is not on your back the blame -will light. I have my work, and my duty, and my business to mind, and -if I do not mind them, no one else will do it for me; and I am -astonished and surprised beyant telling, so I am, at the impittence of -some people, thinking that the likes of me has nothing else to be doing -but listening to them discoorsing in a dirty ditch, and more particular -when their conduct has been sich as some people's that is old enough at -any rate to know better." - -The fair handmaiden had now resumed her retreat; so that Larry, having -raised himself from his lowly hiding-place, was obliged to follow for -some twenty yards before he again came up with her. - -"Wait one half second--stop a bit, for the Lord's sake," exclaimed he, -with most earnest energy. - -"Well, wonst for all, Mr. Laurence," exclaimed Mistress Carey severely, -"what _is_ your business with me?" - -"Jist this," rejoined Larry, with a mysterious wink, and lowering his -voice--"a letter to the young mistress from"--here he glanced jealously -round, and then bringing himself close beside her, he whispered in her -ear--"from Mr. O'Connor--whisht--not a word--into her own hand, mind." - -The young woman took the letter, read the superscription, and forthwith -placed it in her bosom, and rearranged her kerchief. - -"Never fear--never fear," said she, "Miss Mary shall have it in half an -hour. And how," added she, maliciously, "_is_ Mr. O'Connor? He is a -lovely gentleman, is not he?" - -"He's uncommonly well in health, the Lord be praised," replied Mr. -Toole, with very unaccountable severity. - -"Well, for my part," continued the girl, "I never seen the man yet to -put beside him--unless, indeed, the young master may be. He's a very -pretty young man--and so shocking agreeable." - -Mr. Toole nodded a pettish assent, coughed, muttered something to -himself, and then inquired when he should come for an answer. - -"I'll have an answer to-morrow morning--maybe this evening," pursued -she; "but do not be coming so close up to the house. Who knows who -might be on our backs in an instant here? I'll walk down whenever I get -it to the two mulberries at the old gate; and I'll go there either in -the morning at this hour, or else a little before supper-time in the -evening." - -Mr. Toole, having gazed rapturously at the object of his tenderest -aspirations during the delivery of this address, was at its termination -so far transported by his feelings, as absolutely to make a kind of -indistinct and flurried attempt to kiss her. - -"Well, I purtest, this is overbearing," exclaimed the virgin; and at -the same time bestowing Mr. Toole a sound box on the ear, she tripped -lightly toward the house, leaving her admirer a prey to what are -usually termed conflicting emotions. - -When Sir Richard returned to his dressing-room at about noon, to -prepare for dinner, he had hardly walked to the toilet, and rung for -his Italian servant, when a knock was heard at his chamber door, and, -in obedience to his summons, Mistress Carey entered. - -"Well, Carey," inquired the baronet, as soon as she had appeared, "do -you bring me any news?" - -The lady's-maid closed the door carefully. - -"News?" she repeated. "Indeed, but I do, Sir Richard--and bad news, I'm -afeard, sir. Mr. O'Connor has written a great long letter to my -mistress, if you please, sir." - -"Have you gotten it?" inquired the baronet, quickly. - -"Yes, sir," rejoined she, "safe and sound here in my breast, Sir -Richard." - -"Your young mistress has not opened it--or read it?" inquired he. - -"Oh, dear! Sir Richard, it is after all you said to me only the other -day," rejoined she, in virtuous horror. "I hope I know my place better -than to be fetching and carrying notes and letters, and all soarts, -unnonst to my master. Don't I know, sir, very well how that you're the -best judge what's fitting and what isn't for the sight of your own -precious child? and wouldn't I be very unnatural, and very hardened and -ungrateful, if I was to be making secrets in the family, and if any -ill-will or misfortunes was to come out of it? I purtest I never--never -would forgive myself--never--no more I ought--never." - -Here Mistress Carey absolutely wept. - -"Give me the letter," said Sir Richard, drily. - -The damsel handed it to him; and he, having glanced at the seal and the -address, deposited the document safely in a small leathern box which -stood upon his toilet, and having locked it safely therein, he turned -to the maid, and patting her on the cheek with a smile, he remarked,-- - -"Be a good girl, Carey, and you shall find you have consulted your -interest best." - -Here Mistress Carey was about to do justice to her own -disinterestedness in a very strong protestation, but the baronet -checked her with an impatient wave of the hand, and continued,-- - -"Say not on any account one word to any person touching this letter, -until you have your directions from me. Stay--this will buy you a -ribbon. Good-bye--be a good girl." - -So saying, the baronet placed a guinea in the girl's hand, which, with -a courtesy, having transferred to her pocket, she withdrew rather -hurriedly, for she heard the valet in the next room. - - - - -CHAPTER XV. - -THE TRAITOR. - - -Upon the day following, O'Connor had not yet received any answer to his -letter. He was, however, not a little surprised instead to receive a -second visit from young Ashwoode. - -"I am very glad, my dear O'Connor," said the young man as he entered, -"to have found you alone. I have been wishing very much for this -opportunity, and was half afraid as I came upstairs that I should again -have been disappointed. The fact is, I wish much to speak to you upon a -subject of great difficulty and delicacy--one in which, however, I -naturally feel so strong an interest, that I may speak to you upon it, -and freely, too, without impertinence. I allude to your attachment to -my sister. Do not imagine, my dear O'Connor, that I am going to lecture -you on prudence and all that; and above all, my dear fellow, do not -think I want to tax your confidence more deeply than you are willing I -should; I know quite enough for all I would suggest; I know the plain -fact that you love my sister--I have long known it, and this is -enough." - -"Well, sir, what follows?" said O'Connor, dejectedly. - -"Do not call me _sir_--call me friend--fellow--fool--anything you -please but that," replied Ashwoode, kindly; and after a brief pause, he -continued: "I need not, and cannot disguise it from you, that I was -much opposed to this, and vexed extremely at the girl's encouragement -of what I considered a most imprudent suit. I have, however, learned to -think differently--very differently. After all my littlenesses and -pettishness, for which you must have, if not abhorred, at least -despised me from your very heart--after all this, I say, your noble -conduct in risking your own life to save my worthless blood is what I -never can enough admire, and honour, and thank." Here he grasped -O'Connor's hand, and shook it warmly. "After this, I tell you, -O'Connor, that were there offered to me, on my sister's behoof, on the -one side the most brilliant alliance in wealth and rank that ever -ambition dreamed of, and upon the other side this hand of yours, I -would, so heaven is my witness, forego every allurement of titles, -rank, and riches, and give my sister to you. I have come here, -O'Connor, frankly to offer you my aid and advice--to prove to you my -sincerity, and, if possible, to realize your wishes." - -O'Connor could hardly believe his senses. Here was the man who, -scarcely six days since, he felt assured, would more readily have -suffered him to thrust him through the body than consent to his -marriage with Mary Ashwoode, now not merely consenting to it, but -offering cordially and spontaneously all the assistance in his power -towards effecting that very object. Had he heard him aright? One look -at his expressive face--the kindly pressure of his hand--everything -assured him that he had justly comprehended all that Ashwoode had -spoken, and a glow of hope, warmer than had visited him for years, -cheered his heart. - -"In the meantime," continued Ashwoode, "I must tell you exactly how -matters stand at Morley Court. The Earl of Aspenly, of whom you may -have heard, is paying his addresses to my sister." - -"The Earl of Aspenly," echoed O'Connor, slightly colouring. "I had not -heard of this before--she did not name him." - -"Yet she has known it a good while," returned Ashwoode, with -well-affected surprise--"a month, I believe, or more. He's now at -Morley Court, and means to make some stay--are you sure she never -mentioned him?" - -"Titled, and, of course, rich," said O'Connor, scarce hearing the -question. "Why should I have heard of this by chance, and from -another--why this reserve--this silence?" - -"Nay, nay," replied Henry, "you must not run away with the matter thus. -Mary may have forgotten it, _or_--or not liked to tell you--not cared -to give you needless uneasiness." - -"I wish she had--I wish she had--I am--I am, indeed, Ashwoode, very, -very unhappy," said O'Connor, with extreme dejection. "Forgive -me--forgive my folly, since folly it seems--I fear I weary you." - -"Well, well, since it seems you have _not_ heard of it," rejoined -Henry, carelessly throwing himself back in his chair, "you may as well -learn it now--not that there is any real cause of alarm in the matter, -as I shall presently show you, but simply that you may understand the -position of the enemy. Lord Aspenly, then, is at present at Morley -Court, where he is received as Mary's lover--observe me, only as her -lover--not yet, and I trust _never_ as her _accepted_ lover." - -"Go on--pray go on," said O'Connor, with suppressed but agonized -anxiety. - -"Now, though my father is very hot about the match," resumed his -visitor, "it may appear strange enough to you that _I_ never was. -There are a few--a very few--advantages in the matter, of course, -viewing it merely in its worldly aspect. But Lord Aspenly's property -is a good deal embarrassed, and he is of violently Whig politics and -connections, the very thing most hated by my old Tory uncle, Oliver -French, whom my father has been anxious to cultivate; besides, the -disparity in years is so very great that it is ridiculous--I might -almost say _indecent_--and this even in point of family standing, and -indeed of reputation, putting aside every better consideration, is -objectionable. I have urged all these things upon my father, and -perhaps we should not find any insurmountable obstacle _there_; but -the fact is, there is another difficulty, one of which until this -morning I never dreamed--the most whimsical difficulty imaginable." -Here the young man raised his eyebrows, and laughed faintly, while he -looked upon the floor, and O'Connor, with increasing earnestness, -implored him to proceed. "It appears so very absurd and perverse an -obstacle," continued Ashwoode, with a very quizzical expression, "that -one does not exactly know how to encounter it--to say the truth, I -think that the girl is a little--perhaps the least imaginable -degree--taken--dazzled--caught by the notion of being a countess; it's -very natural, you know, but then I would have expected better from -her." - -"By heavens, it is impossible!" exclaimed O'Connor, starting to his -feet; "I cannot believe it; you must, indeed, my dear Ashwoode, you -_must_ have been deceived." - -"Well, then," rejoined the young man, "I have lost my skill in reading -young ladies' minds--that's all; but even though I should be right--and -never believe me if I am _not_ right--it does not follow that the giddy -whim won't pass away just as suddenly as it came; her most lasting -impressions--with, I should hope, one exception--were never very -enduring. I have been talking to her for nearly half an hour this -morning--laughing with her about Lord Aspenly's suit, and building -castles in the air about what she will and what she won't do when she's -a countess. But, by the way, how did you let her know that you intend -returning to France at the end of this month, only, as she told me, -however, for a few weeks? She mentioned it yesterday incidentally. -Well, it is a comfort that I hear your secrets, though _you_ won't -entrust them to me. But do not, my dear fellow--_do_ not look so very -black--you very much overrate the firmness of women's minds, and -greatly indeed exaggerate that of my sister's character if you believe -that this vexatious whim which has entered her giddy pate will remain -there longer than a week. The simple fact is that the excitement and -bustle of all this has produced an unusual flow of high spirits, which -will, of course, subside with the novelty of the occasion. Pshaw! why -so cast down?--there is nothing in the matter to surprise one--the -caprice of women knows do rule. I tell you I would almost stake my -reputation as a prophet, that when this giddy excitement passes away, -her feelings will return to their old channel." O'Connor still paced -the room in silence. "Meanwhile," continued the young man, "if anything -occur to you--if I can be useful to you in any way, command me -absolutely, and till you see me next, take heart of grace." He grasped -O'Connor's hand--it was cold as clay; and bidding him farewell, once -more took his departure. - -"Well," thought he, as he threw his leg across his high-bred gelding at -the inn door, "I have shot the first shaft home." - -And so he had, for the heart at which it was directed, unfenced by -suspicion, lay open to his traitorous practices. O'Connor's letter, an -urgent and a touching one, was still unanswered; it never for a moment -crossed his mind that it had not reached the hand for which it was -intended. The maid who had faithfully delivered all the letters which -had passed between them had herself received it; and young Ashwoode had -but the moment before mentioned, from his sister's lips, the subject on -which it was written--his meditated departure for France. This, too, it -appeared, she had spoken of in the midst of gay and light-hearted -trilling, and projects of approaching magnificence and dissipation with -his rich and noble rival. Twice since the delivery of that letter had -his servant seen Miss Ashwoode's maid; and in the communicative -colloquy which had ensued she had told--no doubt according to -well-planned instructions--how gay and unusually merry her mistress -was, and how she passed whole hours at her toilet, and the rest of her -time in the companionship of Lord Aspenly--so that between his -lordship's society, and her own preparations for it, she had scarcely -allowed herself time to read the letter in question, much less to -answer it. - -All these things served to fill O'Connor's mind with vague but -agonizing doubts--doubts which he vainly strove to combat; fears which -had not their birth in an alarmed imagination, but which, alas! were -but too surely approved by reason. The notion of a systematic plot, -embracing so many agents, and conducted with such deep and hellish -hypocrisy, with the sole purpose of destroying affections the most -beautiful, and of alienating hearts the truest, was a thought so -monstrous and unnatural that it never for a second flashed upon his -mind; still his heart struggled strongly against despair. Spite of all -that looked gloomy in what he saw--spite of the boding suggestions of -his worst fears, he would not believe her false to him--that she who -had so long and so well loved and trusted him--she whose gentle heart -he knew unchanged and unchilled by years, and distance, and -misfortunes--that she should, after all, have fallen away from him, and -given up that heart, which once was his, to vanity and the hollow -glitter of the world--this he could hardly bring himself to believe, -yet what was he to think? alas! what? - - - - -CHAPTER XVI. - -SHOWING SIGNOR PARUCCI ALONE WITH THE WIG-BLOCKS--THE BARONET'S -HAND-BELL AND THE ITALIAN'S TASK. - - -Morley Court was a queer old building--very large and very irregular. -The main part of the dwelling, and what appeared to be the original -nucleus, upon which after-additions had grown like fantastic -incrustations, was built of deep-red brick, with many recesses and -projections and gables, and tall and grotesquely-shaped chimneys, and -having broad, jutting, heavily-sashed windows, such as belonged to -Henry the Eighth's time, to which period the origin of the building -was, with sufficient probability, referred. The great avenue, which -extended in a direct line to more than the long half of an Irish mile, -led through double rows of splendid old lime-trees, some thirty paces -apart, and arching in a vast and shadowy groining overhead, to the -front of the building. To the rearward extended the rambling additions -which necessity or caprice had from time to time suggested, as the -place, in the lapse of years, passed into the hands of different -masters. One of these excrescences, a quaint little prominence, with a -fanciful gable and chimney of its own, jutted pleasantly out upon the -green sward, courting the friendly shelter of the wild and graceful -trees, and from its casement commanding through the parting boughs no -views but those of quiet fields, distant woodlands, and the far-off -blue hills. This portion of the building contained in the upper story -one small room, to the full as oddly shaped as the outer casing of -fantastic masonry in which it was inclosed--the door opened upon a back -staircase which led from the lower apartments to Sir Richard's -dressing-room; and partly owing to this convenient arrangement, and -partly perhaps to the comfort and seclusion of the chamber itself, it -had been long appropriated to the exclusive occupation of Signor Jacopo -Parucci, Sir Richard's valet and confidential servant. This man was, as -his name would imply, an Italian. Sir Richard had picked him up, some -thirty years before the period at which we have dated our story, in -Naples, where it was said the baronet had received from him very -important instructions in the inner mysteries of that golden science -which converts chance into certainty--a science in which Sir Richard -was said to have become a masterly proficient; and indeed so loudly had -fame begun to bruit his excellence therein, that he found it at last -necessary, or at least highly advisable, to forego the fascinations of -the gaming-table, and to bid to the worship of fortune an eternal -farewell, just at the moment when the fickle goddess promised with -golden profusion to reward his devotion. - -Whatever his reason was, Sir Richard had been to this man a good -master; he had, it was said, and not without reason, enriched him; and, -moreover, it was a strange fact, that in all his capricious and savage -moods, from whose consequences not only his servants but his own -children had no exemption, he had never once treated this person -otherwise than with the most marked civility. What the man's services -had actually been, and to what secret influence he owed the close and -confidential terms upon which he unquestionably stood with Sir Richard, -these things were mysteries, and, of course, furnished inexhaustible -matter of scandalous speculation among the baronet's dependents and -most intimate friends. - -The room of which we speak was Parucci's snuggery. It contained in a -recess behind the door that gentleman's bed--a plain, low, uncurtained -couch; and variously disposed about the apartment an abundance of -furniture of much better kind; the recess of the window was filled by a -kind of squat press, which was constructed in the lower part, and which -contained, as certain adventurous chambermaids averred, having peeped -into its dim recesses when some precious opportunity presented itself, -among other shadowy shapes, the forms of certain flasks and bottles -with long necks, and several tall glasses of different dimensions. Two -or three tables of various sizes of dark shining wood, with legs after -the fashion of the nether limbs of hippogriffs and fauns, seemed about -to walk from their places, and to stamp and claw at random about the -floor. A large, old press of polished oak, with spiral pillars of the -same flanking it in front, contained the more precious articles of -Signor Parucci's wardrobe. Close beside it, in a small recess, stood a -set of shelves, on which were piled various matters, literary and -otherwise, among which perhaps none were disturbed twice in the year, -with the exception of six or eight packs of cards, with which, for old -associations' sake, Signor Jacopo used to amuse himself now and again -in his solitary hours. - -On one of the tables stood two blocks supporting each a flowing black -peruke, which it was almost the only duty of the tenant of this -interesting sanctuary to tend, and trim, and curl. Upon the dusky -tapestry were pinned several coloured prints, somewhat dimmed by time, -but evidently of very equivocal morality. A birding-piece and a -fragment of a fishing-rod covered with dust, neither of which Signor -Parucci had ever touched for the last twenty years, were suspended over -the mantelpiece; and upon the side of the recess, and fully lighted by -the window, in attestation of his gentler and more refined pursuits, -hung a dingy old guitar apparently still in use, for the strings, -though a good deal cobbled and knotted, were perfect in number. A huge, -high-backed, well-stuffed chair, in which a man might lie as snugly as -a kernel in its shell, was placed at the window, and in it reclined the -presiding genius of the place himself, with his legs elevated so as to -rest upon the broad window-sill, formed by the roof of the mysterious -press which we have already mentioned. The Italian was a little man, -very slight, with long hair, a good deal grizzled, flowing upon his -shoulders; he had a sallow complexion and thin hooked nose, piercing -black eyes, lean cheeks, and sharp chin--and altogether a lank, -attenuated, and somewhat intellectual cast of face, with, however, a -certain expression of malice and cunning about the leer of his eye, as -well as in the character of his thin and colourless lip, which made him -by no means a very pleasant object to look upon. - -"Fine weather--almost Italy," said the little man, lazily pushing open -the casement with his foot. "I am surprise, good, dear, sweet Sir -Richard, his bell is stop so long quiet. Why is it not go ding, ding, -dingeri, dingeri, ding-a-ding, ding, as usual. Damnation! what do I -care he ring de bell and I leesten. We are not always young, and I must -be allow to be a leetle deaf when he is allow to be a leetle gouty. -Gode blace my body, how hot is de sun. Come down here, leer of -Apollo--come to my arm, meestress of my heart--Orpheus' leer, come -queekly." This was addressed to the ancient instrument of music which -we have already mentioned, and the invitation was accompanied by an -appropriate elevation of his two little legs, which he raised until he -gently closed his feet upon the sides of the "leer of Apollo," which, -with a good deal of dexterity, he unhung from its peg, and conveyed -within reach of his hand. He cast a look of fond admiration at its -dingy and time-dried face, and forthwith, his heels still resting upon -the window-sill, he was soon thrumming a tinkling symphony, none of the -most harmonious, and then, with uncommon zeal, he began, to his own -accompaniment, to sing some ditty of Italian love. While engaged in -this refined and touching employment, he espied, with unutterable -indignation, a young urchin, who, attracted by the sounds of his -amorous minstrelsy, and with a view to torment the performer, who was -an extremely unpopular personage, had stationed himself at a little -distance before the casement, and accompanied the vocal performance of -the Italian with the most hideous grimaces, and the most absurd and -insulting gesticulations. - -Signor Parucci would have given a good round sum to have had the -engaging boy by the ears; but this he knew was out of the question; he -therefore (for he was a philosopher) played and sung on without -evincing the smallest consciousness of what was going forward. His -plans of vengeance were, however, speedily devised and no less quickly -executed. There lay upon the window-sill a fragment of biscuit, which -in the course of an ecstatic flourish the little man kicked carelessly -over. The bait had hardly touched the ground beneath the casement when -Jacopo, continuing to play and sing the while, and apparently -unconscious of anything but his own music, to his infinite delight -beheld the boy first abate his exertions, and finally put an end to his -affronting pantomime altogether, and begin to manoeuvre in the -direction of the treacherous windfall. The youth gradually approached -it, and just at the moment when it was within his grasp, Signor -Parucci, with another careless touch of his foot, sent over a large -bow-pot well stored with clay, which stood upon the window-block. The -descent of this ponderous missile was followed by a most heart-stirring -acclamation from below; and good Mr. Parucci, clambering along the -window-sill, and gazing downward, was regaled by the spectacle of the -gesticulating youth stamping about the grass among what appeared to be -the fragments of a hundred flower-pots, writhing and bellowing in -transports of indignation and bodily torment. - -"Povero ragazzo--Carissimo figlio," exclaimed the valet, looking out -with an expression of infinite sweetness, "my dear child and charming -boy, how 'av you broke my flower-pote, and when 'av you come here. Ah! -per Bacco, I think I 'av see you before. Ah! yees, you are that -sweetest leetel boy that was leestening at my music--so charming just -now. How much clay is on your back! a cielo! amiable child, you might -'av keel yourself. Sacro numine, what an escape! Say your prayer, and -thank heaven you are safe, my beautiful, sweetest, leetel boy. God -blace you. Now rone away very fast, for fear you pool the other two -flower-potes on your back, sweetest child. Gode bless you, amiable -boy--they are very large and very heavy." - -The youth took the hint, and having had quite enough of Mr. Parucci's -music for the evening, withdrew under the combined influences of fury -and lumbago. The little man threw himself back in his chair, and hugged -his shins in sheer delight, grinning and chattering like a delirious -monkey, and rolling himself about, and laughing with the most exquisite -relish. At length, after this had gone on for some time, with the air -of a man who has had enough of trifling, and must now apply himself to -matters of graver importance, he arose, hung up his guitar, sent his -chair, which was upon casters, rolling to the far end of the room, and -proceeded to arrange the curls of one of the two magnificent perukes, -on which it was his privilege to operate. After having applied himself -with uncommon attention to this labour of taste for some time in -silence, he retired a few paces to contemplate the effect of his -performance--whereupon he fell into a musing mood, and began after his -fashion to soliloquize with a good deal of energy and volubility in -that dialect which had become more easy to him than his mother tongue. - -"_Corpo di Bacco!_ what thing is life! who would believe thirty years -ago I should be here now in a barbaroose island to curl the wig of an -old gouty blackguard--but what matter. I am a philosopher--damnation--it -is very well as it is--per Bacco! I can go way when I like. I am reech -leetle fellow, and with Sir Richard, good Sir Richard, I do always -whatever I may choose. Good Sir Richard," he continued, addressing the -block on which hung the object of his tasteful labours, as if it had -been the baronet in person--"good Sir Richard, why are you so kind to -me, when you are so cross as the old devil in hell with all the rest -of the world?--why, why, why? Shall I say to you the reason, good, -kind Sir Richard? Well, I weel. It is because you dare not--dare -not--dare not-da-a-a-are not vaix me. I am, you know, dear Sir -Richard, a poor, leetle foreigner, who is depending on your goodness. -I 'ave nothing but your great pity and good charity--oh, no! I am -nothing at all; but still you dare not vaix me--you moste not be -angry--note at all--but very quiet--you moste not go in a passion--oh! -never--weeth me--even if I was to make game of you, and to insult you, -and to pool your nose." - -Here the Italian seized, with the tongs which he had in his hand, upon -that prominence in the wooden block which corresponded in position with -the nose, which at other times the peruke overshadowed, and with a grin -of infinite glee pinched and twisted the iron instrument until the -requirements of his dramatic fancy were satisfied, when he delivered -two or three sharp knocks on the smooth face of the block, and resumed -his address. - -"No, no--you moste not be angry, fore it would be great misfortune--oh, -it would--if you and I should quarrel together; but tell me now, old -_truffatore_--tell me, I say, am I not very quiet, good-nature, -merciful, peetying faylow? Ah, yees--very, very--_Madre di Dio_--very -moche; and dear, good Sir Richard, shall I tell you why I am so very -good-nature? It is because I love you joste as moche as you love me--it -is because, most charitable patron, it is my convenience to go on weeth -you quietly and 'av no fighting yet--bote you are going to get money. -Oh! so coning you are, you think I know nothing--you think I am -asleep--bote I know it--I know it quite well. You think I know nothing -about the land you take from Miss Mary. Ah! you are very coning--oh! -very; but I 'av hear it all, and I tell you--and I swear _per sangue di -D----_, when you get that money I shall, and will, and moste--_mo-ooste_ -'av a very large, comfortable, beeg handful--do you hear me? Oh, you -very coning old rascal; and if you weel not geeve it, oh, my dear Sir -Richard, echellent master, I am so moche afaid we will 'av a fight -between us--a quarrel--that will spoil our love and friendship, and -maybe, helas! horte your reputation--shoking--make the gentlemen spit -on you, and avoid you, and call you all the ogly names--oh! shoking." - -Here he was interrupted by a loud ringing in Sir Richard's chamber. - -"There he is to pool his leetle bell--damnation, what noise. I weel go -up joste now--time enough, dear, good, patient Sir Richard--time -enough--oh, plainty, plainty." - -The little man then leisurely fumbled in his pocket until he brought -forth a bunch of keys, from which, having selected one, he applied it -to the lock of the little press which we have already mentioned, whence -he deliberately produced one of the flasks which we have hinted at, -along with a tall glass with a spiral stem, and filling himself a -bumper of the liquor therein contained, he coolly sipped it to the -bottom, accompanied throughout the performance by the incessant -tinkling of Sir Richard's hand-bell. - -"Ah, very good, most echellent--thank you, Sir Richard, you 'av give me -so moche time and so moche music, I 'av drunk your very good health." - -So saying, he locked up the flask and glass again, and taking the block -which had just represented Sir Richard in the imaginary colloquy in his -hand, he left his own chamber, and ran upstairs to the baronet's -dressing-room. He found his master alone. - -"Ah, Jacopo," exclaimed the baronet, looking somewhat flushed, but -speaking, nevertheless, in a dulcet tone enough, "I have been ringing -for nearly ten minutes; but I suppose you did not hear me." - -"Joste so as you 'av say," replied the man. "Your _signoria_ is very -seldom wrong. I was so charmed with my work I could not hear nothing." - -"Parucci," rejoined Sir Richard, after a slight pause, "you know I keep -no secrets from you." - -"Ah, you flatter me, Signor--you flatter me--indeed you do," said the -valet, with ironical humility. - -His master well understood the tone in which the fellow spoke, but did -not care to notice it. - -"The fact is, Jacopo," continued Sir Richard, "you already know so many -of my secrets, that I have now no motive in excluding you from any." - -"Goode, kind--oh, very kind," ejaculated the valet. - -"In short," continued his master, who felt a little uneasy under the -praises of his attendant--"in short, to speak plainly, I want your -assistance. I know your talents well. You can imitate any handwriting -you please to copy with perfect accuracy. You must copy, in the -handwriting of this manuscript, the draft of a letter which I will hand -you this evening. You require some little time to study the character; -so take the letter with you, and be in my room at ten to-night. I will -then hand you the draft of what I want written. You understand?" - -"Understand! To be sure--most certilly I weel do it," replied the -Italian, "so that the great devil himself will not tell the writing of -the two, _l'un dall' altro_, one from the other. Never fear--geeve me -the letter. I must learn the writing. I weel be here to-night before -you are arrive, and I weel do it very fast, and so like--bote you know -how well I can copy. Ah! yees; you know it, Signor. I need not tell." - -"No more at present," said the baronet, with a gesture of caution. -"Assist me to dress." - -The Italian accordingly was soon deep in the mysteries of his elaborate -functions, where we shall leave him and his master for the present. - - - - -CHAPTER XVII. - -DUBLIN CASTLE BY NIGHT--THE DRAWING-ROOM--LORD WHARTON AND HIS COURT. - - -Sir Richard Ashwoode had set his heart upon having Lord Aspenly for his -son-in-law; and all things considered, his lordship was, perhaps, -according to the standard by which the baronet measured merit, as good -a son-in-law as he had any right to hope for. It was true, Lord Aspenly -was neither very young nor very beautiful. Spite of all the ingenious -arts by which he reinforced his declining graces, it was clear as the -light that his lordship was not very far from seventy; and it was just -as apparent that it was not to any extraordinary supply of bone, -muscle, or flesh that his vitality was attributable. His lordship was a -little, spindle-shanked gentleman, with the complexion of a consumptive -frog, and features as sharp as edged tools. He condescended to borrow -from the artistic talents of his valet the exquisite pencilling of his -eyebrows, as well as the fine black line which gave effect to a set of -imaginary eyelashes, and depth and brilliancy to a pair of eyes which, -although naturally not very singularly effective, had, nevertheless, -nearly as much vivacity in them as they had ever had. His smiles were -perennial and unceasing, very winning and rather ghastly. He used much -gesticulation, and his shrug was absolutely Parisian. To all these -perfections he added a wonderful facility in rounding the periods of a -compliment, and an inexhaustible affluence of something which passed -for conversation. Thus endowed, and having, moreover, the additional -recommendation of a handsome income, a peerage, and an unencumbered -celibacy, it is hardly wonderful that his lordship was unanimously -voted by all prudent and discriminating persons, without exception, the -most fascinating man in all Ireland. Sir Richard Ashwoode was not one -whit more in earnest in desiring the match than was Lord Aspenly -himself. His lordship had for some time begun to suspect that he had -nearly sown his wild oats--that it was time for him to reform--that he -was ripe for the domestic virtues, and ought to renounce scamp-hood. He -therefore, in the laboratory of his secret soul, compounded a virtuous -passion, which he resolved to expend upon the first eligible object who -might present herself. Mary Ashwoode was the fortunate damsel who first -happened to come within the scope and range of his lordship's -premeditated love; and he forthwith in a matrimonial paroxysm applied, -according to the good old custom, not to the lady herself, but to Sir -Richard Ashwoode, and was received with open arms. - -The baronet indeed, as the reader is aware, anticipated many -difficulties in bringing the match about; for he well knew how deeply -his daughter's heart was engaged, and his misgivings were more sombre -and frequent than he cared to acknowledge even to himself. He resolved, -however, that the thing should be; and he was convinced, that if his -lordship only were firm, spite of fate he would effect it. In order -then to inspire Lord Aspenly with this desirable firmness, he not -unwisely believed that his best course was to exhibit him as much as -possible in public places, in the character of the avowed lover of Mary -Ashwoode; a position which, when once unequivocally assumed, afforded -no creditable retreat, except through the gates of matrimony. It was -arranged, therefore, that the young lady, under the protection of Lady -Stukely, and accompanied by Lord Aspenly and Henry Ashwoode, should -attend the first drawing-room at the Castle, a ceremonial which had -been fixed to take place a few days subsequently to the arrival of Lord -Aspenly at Morley Court. Those who have seen the Castle of Dublin only -as it now stands, have beheld but the creation of the last sixty or -seventy years, with the exception only of the wardrobe tower, an old -grey cylinder of masonry, very dingy and dirty, which appears to have -gone into half mourning for its departed companions, and presents -something of the imposing character of an overgrown, mouldy band-box. -At the beginning of the last century, however, matters were very -different. The trim brick buildings, with their spacious windows and -symmetrical regularity of structure, which now complete the quadrangles -of the castle, had not yet appeared; but in their stead masses of -building, constructed with very little attention to architectural -precision, either in their individual formation or in their relative -position, stood ranged together, so as to form two irregular and gloomy -squares. That portion of the building which was set apart for state -occasions and the vice-regal residence, had undergone so many repairs -and modifications, that very little if any of it could have been -recognized by its original builder. Not so, however, with other -portions of the pile: the ponderous old towers, which have since -disappeared, with their narrow loop-holes and iron-studded doors -looming darkly over the less massive fabrics of the place with stern -and gloomy aspect, reminded the passer every moment, that the building -whose courts he trod was not merely the theatre of stately ceremonies, -but a fortress and a prison. - -The viceroyalty of the Earl of Wharton was within a few weeks of its -abrupt termination; the approaching discomfiture of the Whigs was not, -however, sufficiently clearly revealed, to thin the levees and -drawing-rooms of the Whig lord-lieutenant. The castle yards were, -therefore, upon the occasion in question, crowded to excess with the -gorgeous equipages in which the Irish aristocracy of the time -delighted. The night had closed in unusual darkness, and the massive -buildings, whose summits were buried in dense and black obscurity, were -lighted only by the red reflected glow of crowded flambeaux and -links--which, as the respective footmen, who attended the crowding -chairs and coaches flourished them according to the approved fashion, -scattered their wide showers of sparks into the eddying air, and -illumined in a broad and ruddy glare, like that of a bonfire, the -gorgeous equipages with which the square was now thronged, and the -splendid figures which they successively discharged. There were -coaches-and-four--out-riders--running footmen and hanging -footmen--crushing and rushing--jostling and swearing--and burly -coachmen, with inflamed visages, lashing one another's horses and their -own. Lackeys collaring and throttling one another, all "for their -master's honour," in the hot and disorderly dispute for precedence, and -some even threatening an appeal to the swords--which, according to the -barbarous fashion of the day, they carried, to the no small peril of -the public and themselves. Others dragging the reins of strangers' -horses, and backing them to make way for their own--a proceeding which, -of course, involved no small expenditure of blasphemy and vociferation. -On the whole, it would not be easy to exaggerate the scene of riot and -confusion which, under the very eye of the civil and military executive -of the country, was perpetually recurring, and that, too, ostensibly in -honour of the supreme head of the Irish Government. - -Through all this crash, and clatter, and brawling, and vociferation, -the party whom we are bound to follow made their way with some -difficulty and considerable delay. - -The Earl of Wharton with his countess, surrounded by a brilliant staff, -and amid all the pomp and state of vice-regal dignity, received the -distinguished courtiers who thronged the castle chambers. At the time -of which we write, Lord Wharton was in his seventieth year. Few, -however, would have guessed his age at more than sixty, though many -might have supposed it under that. He was rather a spare figure, with -an erect and dignified bearing, and a countenance which combined -vivacity, good-humour, and boldness in an eminent degree. His manners -were, to those who did not know how unreal was everything in them that -bore the promise of good, singularly engaging, and that in spite of a -very strong spice of coarseness, and a very determined addiction to -profane swearing. He had, however, in his whole air and address a kind -of rollicking, good-humoured familiarity, which was very generally -mistaken for the quintessence of candour and good-fellowship, and which -consequently rendered him unboundedly popular among those who were not -aware of the fact that his complimentary speeches meant just nothing, -and were very often followed, the moment the object of them had -withdrawn, by the coarsest ridicule, and even by the grossest abuse. -For the rest, he was undoubtedly an able statesman, and had clearly -discerned and adroitly steered his way through the straits and perils -of troublous and eventful times. He was, moreover, a steady and -uncompromising Whig, upon whom, throughout a long and active life, the -stain of inconsistency had never rested; a thorough partisan, a quick -and ready debater, and an unscrupulous and daring political intriguer. -In private, however, entirely profligate--a sensualist and an infidel, -and in both characters equally without shame. - -Through the rooms there wandered a very wild, madcap boy of some ten or -eleven years, venting his turbulent spirits in all kinds of mischievous -pranks--sometimes planting himself behind Lord Wharton, and mimicking, -with ludicrous exaggeration, which the courtly spectators had enough to -do to resist, the ceremonious gestures and gracious nods of the -viceroy; at other times assuming a staid and manly carriage, and -chatting with his elders with the air of perfect equality, and upon -subjects which one would have thought immeasurably beyond his years, -and this with a sound sense, suavity, and precision which would have -done honour to many grey heads in the room. This strange, bold, -precocious boy of eleven was Philip, afterwards Duke of Wharton, the -wonder and the disgrace of the British peerage. - -"Ah! Mr. Morris," exclaimed his excellency, as a middle-aged gentleman, -with a fluttered air, a round face, and vacant smile, approached, "I am -delighted to see you--by ---- Almighty I am--give me your hand. I have -written across about the matter we wot of: but for these cursed -contrary winds, I make no doubt I should have had a letter before now. -Is the young gentleman himself here?" - -"A--a--not quite, your excellency. That is, not at--all," stammered the -gentleman, in mingled delight and alarm. "He is, my lord, a--a--laid -up. He--a--it is a sore throat. Your excellency is most gracious." - -"Tell him from me," rejoined Wharton, "that he must get well as quickly -as may be. We don't know the moment he may be wanted. You understand -me?" - -"I--a--do indeed," replied Mr. Morris, retiring in graceful confusion. - -"A d----d impudent booby," whispered Wharton to Addison, who stood -beside him, uttering the remark without the change of a single muscle. -"He has made some cursed unconscionable request about his son. I'gad, I -forget what; but we want his vote on Tuesday; and civility, you know, -costs no coin." - -Addison smiled faintly, and shook his head. - -"May the Lord pardon us all," exclaimed a country clergyman in a rusty -gown and ill-dressed wig, with a pale, attenuated, eager face, which -told mournful tales of short commons and hard work; he had been for -some time an intense and a grieved listener to the lord-lieutenant's -conversation, and was now slowly retiring with a companion as humble as -himself from the circle which surrounded his excellency, with simple -horror impressed upon his pale features--"may the Lord preserve us all, -how awful it is to hear one so highly trusted by _Him_, take His name -thus momentarily in vain. Lord Wharton is, I fear me much, an habitual -profane swearer." - -"Believe me, sir, you are very simple," rejoined a young clergyman who -stood close to the position which the speaker now occupied. "His -excellency's object in swearing by the different persons of the Trinity -is to show that he believes in revealed religion--a fact which else -were doubtful; and this being his main object, it is manifestly a -secondary consideration to what particular asseveration or promises his -excellency happens to tack his oaths." - -The lank, pale-faced prebendary looked suddenly and earnestly round -upon the person who had accosted him, with an expression of curiosity -and wonder, evidently in some doubt as to the spirit in which the -observation had been made. He beheld a tall, stalwart man, arrayed in a -clerical costume as rich as that of a churchman who has not attained to -the rank of a dignitary in his profession could well be, and in all -points equipped with the most perfect neatness. In the face he looked -in vain for any indication of jocularity. It was a striking -countenance--striking for the extreme severity of its expression, and -for its stern and handsome outline. The eye which encountered the -inquiring glance of the elder man was of the clearest blue, singularly -penetrating and commanding--the eyebrow dark and shaggy--the lips full -and finely formed, but in their habitual expression bearing a character -of haughty and indomitable determination--the complexion of the face -was dark; and as the country prebendary gazed upon the countenance, -full, as it seemed, of a scornful, stern, merciless energy and -decision, something told him, that he looked upon one born to lead and -to command the people. All this he took in at a glance: and while he -looked, Addison, who had detached himself from the vice-regal coterie, -laid his hand upon the shoulder of the stern-featured young clergyman. - -"Swift," said he, drawing him aside, "we see you too seldom here. His -excellency begins to think and to hope you have reconsidered what I -spoke about when last we met. Believe me, you wrong yourself in not -rendering what service you can to men who are not ungrateful, and who -have the power to reward. You were always a Whig, and a pamphlet were -with you but the work of a few days." - -"Were I to write a pamphlet," rejoined Swift, "it is odds his -excellency would not like it." - -"Have you not always been a Whig?" urged Addison. - -"Sir, I am not to be taken by nicknames," rejoined Swift. "I know -Godolphin, and I know Lord Wharton. I have long distrusted the -government of each. I am no courtier, Mr. Secretary. What I suspect I -will not seem to trust--what I hate I hate entirely, and renounce -openly. I have heard of my Lord Wharton's doing, too. When I refused -before to understand your overtures to me to write a pamphlet for his -friends, he was pleased to say I refused because he would not make me -his chaplain--in saying which he knowingly and malignantly lied; and to -this lie he, after his accustomed fashion, tacked a blasphemous oath. -He is therefore a perjured liar. I renounce him as heartily as I -renounce the devil. I am come here, Mr. Secretary, not to do reverence -to Lord Wharton--God forbid!--but to offer my homage to the majesty of -England, whose brightness is reflected even in that cracked and -battered piece of pinchbeck yonder. Believe me, should his excellency -be rash enough to engage me in talk to-night, I shall take care to let -him know what opinion I have of him." - -"Come, come, you must not be so dogged," rejoined Addison. "You know -Lord Wharton's ways. He says a good deal more than he cares to be -believed--everybody knows _that_--and all take his lordship's -asseverations with a grain of allowance; besides, you ought to consider -that when a man unused to contradiction is crossed by disappointment, -he is apt to be choleric, and to forget his discretion. We all know his -faults; but even you will not deny his merits." - -Thus speaking, he led Swift toward the vice-regal circle, which they -had no sooner reached than Wharton, with his most good-humoured smile, -advanced to meet the young clergyman, exclaiming,-- - -"Swift! so it is, by ----! I am glad to see you--by ---- I am." - -"I am glad, my lord," replied Swift, gravely, "that you take such -frequent occasion to remind this godless company of the presence of the -Almighty." - -"Well, you know," rejoined Wharton, good-humouredly, "the Scripture -saith that the righteous man sweareth to his neighbour." - -"And _disappointeth_ him not," rejoined Swift. - -"And disappointeth him not," repeated Wharton; "and by ----," continued -he, with marked earnestness, and drawing the young politician aside as -he spoke, "in whatsoever I swear to thee there shall be no -disappointment." - -He paused, but Swift remained silent. The lord-lieutenant well knew -that an English preferment was the nearest object of the young -churchman's ambition. He therefore continued,-- - -"On my soul, we want you in England--this is no stage for you. By ---- -you cannot hope to serve either yourself or your friends in this -place." - -"Very few thrive here but scoundrels, my lord," rejoined Swift. - -"Even so," replied Wharton, with perfect equanimity--"it is a nation of -scoundrels--dissent on the one side and popery on the other. The upper -order harpies, and the lower a mere prey--and all equally liars, -rogues, rebels, slaves, and robbers. By ---- some fine day the devil -will carry off the island bodily. For very safety you must get out of -it. By ---- he'll have it." - -"I am not enough in the devil's confidence to speak of his designs with -so much authority as your lordship," rejoined Swift; "but I incline to -think that under your excellency's administration it will answer his -end as well to leave the island where it is." - -"Ah! Swift, you are a wag," rejoined the viceroy; "but by ---- I honour -and respect your spirit. I know we shall agree yet--by ---- I know it. -I respect your independence and honesty all the more that they are -seldom met with in a presence-chamber. By ---- I respect and love you -more and more every day." - -"If your lordship will forego your professions of love, and graciously -confine yourself to the backbiting which must follow, you will do for -me to the full as much as I either expect or desire," rejoined Swift, -with a grave reverence. - -"Well, well," rejoined the viceroy, with the most unruffled -good-humour, "I see, Swift, you are in no mood to play the courtier -just now. Nevertheless, bear in mind what Addison advised you to -attempt; and though we part thus for the present, believe me, I love -you all the better for your honest humour." - -"Farewell, my lord," repeated Swift, abruptly, and with a formal bow he -retired among the common throng. - -"A hungry, ill-conditioned dog," said Wharton, turning to the person -next him, "who, having never a bone to gnaw, whets his teeth on the -shins of the company." - -Having vented this little criticism, the viceroy resumed once more the -formal routine of state hospitality. - -"It is time we were going," suggested Mary Ashwoode to Emily Copland. -"My lord," she continued, turning to Lord Aspenly, whose attentions had -been just as conspicuous and incessant as Sir Richard Ashwoode could -have wished them, "Do you know where Lady Stukely is?" - -Lord Aspenly professed his ignorance. - -"Have _you_ seen her ladyship?" inquired Emily Copland of the gallant -Major O'Leary, who stood near her. - -"Upon my conscience, I have," rejoined the major. "I'm not considered a -poltroon; but I plead guilty to one weakness. I am bothered if I can -stand fire when it appears in the nose of a gentlewoman; so as soon as -I saw her I beat a retreat, and left my valorous young nephew to stand -or fall under the blaze of her artillery. She is at the far end of the -room." - -The major was easily persuaded to undertake the mission, and a word to -young Ashwoode settled the matter. The party accordingly left the -rooms, having, however, previously to their doing so, arranged that -Major O'Leary should pass the next day at Morley Court, and afterwards -accompany them in the evening to the theatre, whither Sir Richard, in -pursuance of his plans, had arranged that they should all repair. - - - - -CHAPTER XVIII. - - -THE TWO COUSINS--THE NEGLECTED JEWELS AND THE BROKEN SEAL. - -It was drawing toward evening when Emily Copland, in high spirits, and -richly and becomingly dressed, ran lightly to the door of her cousin's -chamber. She knocked, but no answer was returned. She knocked again, -but still without any reply. Then opening the door, she entered the -room, and beheld her cousin Mary seated at a small work-table, at which -it was her wont to read. There she lay motionless--her small head -leaned upon her graceful arms, over which flowed all negligently the -dark luxuriant hair. An open letter was on the table before her, and -two or three rich ornaments lay unheeded on the floor beside her, as if -they had fallen from her hand. There was in her attitude such a -passionate abandonment of grief, that she seemed the breathing image of -despair. Spite of all her levity, the young lady was touched at the -sight. She approached her gently, and laying her hand upon her -shoulder, she stooped down and kissed her. - -"Mary, dear Mary, what grieves you?" she said. "Tell me. It's I, -dear--your cousin Emily. There's a good girl--what has happened to vex -you?" - -Mary raised her head, and looked in her cousin's face. Her eye was -wild--she was pale as marble, and in her beautiful face was an -expression so utterly woeful and piteous, that Emily was almost moved. - -"Oh! I have lost him--for ever and ever I have lost him," said she, -despairingly. "Oh! cousin, dear cousin, he is gone from me. God pity -me--I am forsaken." - -"Nay, cousin, do not say so--be cheerful--it cannot be--there, there," -and Emily Copland kissed the poor girl's pale lips. - -"Forsaken--forsaken," continued Mary, for she heard not and heeded not -the voice of vain consolation. "He has thrown me off for ever--for -ever--quite--quite. God pity me, where shall I look for hope?" - -"Mary, dear Mary," said her cousin, "you are ill--do not give way thus. -Be assured it is not as you think. You must be in error." - -"In error! Oh! that I could think so. God knows how gladly I would give -my poor life to think so. No, no--it is real--all real. Oh! cousin, he -has forsaken me." - -"I cannot believe it--I _can_ not," said Emily Copland. "Such folly can -hardly exist. I will not believe it. What reason have you for thinking -him changed?" - -"Read--oh, read it, cousin," replied the girl, motioning toward the -letter, which lay open on the table--"read it once, and you will not -bid me hope any more. Oh! cousin, dear cousin, there is no more joy for -me in this world, turn where I will, do what I may--I am heart-broken." - -Emily Copland glanced through the letter, shook her head, and dropped -the note again where it had been lying. - -"You know, cousin Emily, how I loved him," continued Mary, while for -the first time the tears flowed fast--"you know that day after day, -among all that happened to grieve me, my heart found rest in his -love--in the hope and trust that he would never grow cold; -and--and--oh! God pity me--_now_ where is it all? You see--you know his -love is gone from me--for evermore--gone from me. Oh! how I used to -count the days and hours till the time would come round when I could -see him and speak to him--but this has all gone. Hereafter all days are -to be the same--morning or evening, summer time or winter--no change of -seasons or of hours can bring to me any more hope or gladness, but ever -the same--sorrow and desolate loneliness--for oh! cousin, I am very -desolate, and hopeless, and heart-broken." - -The poor girl threw her arms round her cousin's neck, and sobbed and -wept, and wept and sobbed again, as though her heart would break. Long -and bitterly she wept upon her cousin's neck in silence, unbroken, -except by her sobs. After a time, however, Emily Copland exclaimed,-- - -"Well, Mary, to say the truth, I never much liked the matter; and as he -is a fool, and an _ungrateful_ fool to boot, I am not sorry that he has -shown his character as he has done. Believe me, painful as such -discoveries are when made thus early, they are incomparably more -agonizing when made too late. A little--a very little--time will enable -you quite to forget him." - -"No, cousin," replied Mary--"no, I never will forget him. He is changed -indeed--greatly changed from what he was--bitterly has he disappointed -and betrayed me; but I cannot forget him. There shall indeed never more -pass word or look between us; he shall be to me as one that is dead, -whom I shall hear and see no more; but the memory of what he was--the -memory of what I vainly thought him--shall remain with me while my poor -heart beats." - -"Well, Mary, time will show," said Emily. - -"Yes, time will show--time will show," replied she, mournfully; "be the -time long or short, it will show." - -"You _must_ forget him--you _will_ forget him; a few weeks, and you -will thank your stars you found him out so soon." - -"Ah, cousin," replied Mary, "you do not know how all my thoughts, and -hopes, and recollections--everything I liked to remember, and to look -forward to; you cannot know how all that was happy in my life--but what -boots it, I will keep my troth with him; I will love no other, and wed -with no other; and while this sorrowful life remains I will -never--never--forget him." - -"I can only say, that were the case my own," rejoined Emily, "I would -show the fellow how lightly I held him and his worthless heart, and -marry within a month; but every one has her own way of doing things. -Remember it is nearly time to start for the theatre; the coach will be -at the door in half-an-hour. Surely you will come; it would seem so -very strange were you to change your mind thus suddenly; and you may be -very sure that, by some means or other, the impudent fellow--about -whom, I cannot see why, you care so much--would hear of all your -grieving, and pining, and love-sickness. Pah! I'd rather die than -please the hollow, worthless creature by letting him think he had -caused me a moment's uneasiness; and then, above all, Sir Richard would -be so outrageously angry--why, you would never hear the end of it. -Come, come, be a good girl. After all, it is only holding up your head, -and looking pretty, which you can't help, for an hour or two. You must -come to silence gossip abroad, as well as for the sake of peace at -home--you _must_ come." - -"I would fain stay here at home," said the poor girl; "heart and head -are sick: but if you think my father would be angry with me for staying -at home, I will go. It is indeed, as you say, a small matter to me -where I pass an hour or two; all times, all places--crowds or -solitudes--are henceforward indifferent to me. What care I where they -bring me! Cousin Emily, I will do whatever you think best." - -The poor girl spoke with a voice and look of such utter wretchedness, -that even her light-hearted, worldly, selfish cousin was touched with -pity. - -"Come, then; I will assist you," said she, kissing the pale cheek of -the heart-stricken girl. "Come, Mary, cheer up, you must call up your -good looks it would never do to be seen thus." And so talking on, she -assisted her to dress. - -Gaily and richly arrayed in the gorgeous and by no means unbecoming -style of the times, and sparkling with brilliant jewels, poor Mary -Ashwoode--a changed and stricken creature, scarcely conscious of what -was going on around her--took her place in her father's carriage, and -was borne rapidly toward the theatre. - -The party consisted of the two young ladies, who were respectively -under the protection of Lord Aspenly, who sate beside Mary Ashwoode, -happily too much pleased with his own voluble frivolity to require -anything more from her than her appearing to hear it, and young -Ashwoode, who chatted gaily with his pretty cousin. - -"What has become of my venerable true-love, Major O'Leary?" inquired -Miss Copland. - -"He will follow on horseback," replied Ashwoode. "I beheld him, as I -passed downstairs, admiring himself before the looking-glass in his new -regimentals. He designs tremendous havoc to-night. His coat is a -perfect phenomenon--the investment of a year's pay at least--with more -gold about it than I thought the country could afford, and scarlet -enough to make a whole wardrobe for the lady of Babylon--a coat which, -if left to itself, would storm the hearts of nine girls out of ten, and -which, even with an officer in it, will enthral half the sex." - -"And here comes the coat itself," exclaimed the young lady, as the -major rode up to the coach-window--"I'm half in love with it myself -already." - -"Ladies, your devoted slave: gentlemen, your most obedient," said the -major, raising his three-cornered hat. "I hope to see you before -half-an-hour, under circumstances more favourable to conversation. Miss -Copland, depend upon it, with your permission, I'll pay my homage to -you before half-an-hour, the more especially as I have a scandalous -story to tell you. Meanwhile, I wish you all a safe journey, and a -pleasant one." So saying, the major rode on, at a brisk pace, to the -"Cock and Anchor," there intending to put up his horse, and to exchange -a few words with young O'Connor. - -In the meantime the huge old coach, which contained the rest of the -party, jolted and rumbled on, until at length, amid the confusion and -clatter of crowded vehicles, restive horses, and vociferous coachmen, -with all their accompaniments of swearing and whipping, the clank of -scrambling hoofs, the bumping and hustling of carriages, and the -desperate rushing of chairmen, bolting this way or that, with their -living loads of foppery and fashion--the coach-door was thrown open at -the box-entrance of the Theatre Royal, in Smock Alley. - - - - -CHAPTER XIX. - -THE THEATRE--THE RUFFIAN--THE ASSAULT, AND THE RENCONTRE. - - -Major O'Leary had hardly dismounted in the quadrangle of the "Cock and -Anchor," when O'Connor rode slowly into the inn-yard. - -"How are you, my dear fellow?" exclaimed the man of scarlet and gold; -"I was just asking where you were. Come down off that beast, I want to -have a word in your ear--a bit of news--some fun. Descend, I say, -descend." - -O'Connor accordingly dismounted. - -"Now then--a hearty shake--so. I have great news, and only a minute to -tell it. Jack, run like a shot, and get me a chair. Here, Tim, take a -napkin and an oyster-knife, and do not leave a bit of mud, or the sign -of it, upon my back: take a general survey of the coat and breeches, -and a particular review of the wig. And, Jem, do you give my boots a -harum-scarum shot of a superficial scrub, and touch up the hat--gently, -do you mind--and take care of the lace. So while the fellows are -finishing my toilet, I may as well tell you my morsel of news. Do you -know who is to be at the playhouse to-night?" - -O'Connor expressed his ignorance. - -"Well, then, I'll tell you, and make what use you like of it," resumed -the major. "Miss Mary Ashwoode! There's for you. Take my advice, get -into a decent coat and breeches, and run down to the theatre--it is not -five minutes' walk from this; you'll easily find us, and I'll take care -to make room for you. Why, you do not seem half pleased: what more can -you wish for, unless you expect the girl to put up for the evening at -the "Cock and Anchor"? Rouse yourself. If you feel modest, there is -nothing like a pint or two of Madeira: don't try brandy--it's the -father and mother of all sorts of indiscretions. Now, mind, you have -the hint; it is an opportunity you ought to improve. By the powers, if -I was in your place--but no matter. You may not have an opportunity of -seeing her again these six months; and unless I'm completely mistaken, -you are as much in love with the girl as I am with--several that shall -be nameless. Heigho! next after Burgundy, and the cock-pit, and the -fox-hounds, and two or three more frailties of the kind, there is -nothing in the world I prefer to flirtation, without much minding -whether I'm the principal or the second in the affair. But here comes -the vehicle." - -Accordingly, without waiting to say any more, the major took his seat -in the chair, and was borne by the lusty chairmen, at a swinging pace, -through the narrow streets, and, without let or accident, safely -deposited within the principal entrance of the theatre. - -The theatre of Smock Alley (or, as it was then called, Orange Street) -was not quite what theatres are nowadays. It was a large building of -the kind, as theatres were then rated, and contained three galleries, -one above the other, supported by heavy wooden caryatides, and richly -gilded and painted. The curtain, instead of rising and falling, opened, -according to the old fashion, in the middle, and was drawn sideways -apart, disclosing no triumphs of illusive colouring and perspective, -but a succession of plain tapestry-covered screens, which, from early -habit, the audience accommodatingly accepted for town or country, dry -land or sea, or, in short, for any locality whatsoever, according to -the manager's good will and pleasure. This docility and good faith on -the part of the audience were, perhaps, the more praiseworthy, inasmuch -as a very considerable number of the aristocratic spectators actually -sate in long lines down either side of the stage--a circumstance -involving, by the continuous presence of the same perukes, and the same -embroidered waistcoats, the same set of countenances, and the same set -of legs, in every variety of clime and situation through which the -wayward invention of the playwright hurried his action, a very severe -additional tax upon the imaginative faculties of the audience. But -perhaps the most striking peculiarities of the place were exhibited in -the grim persons of two _bona fide_ sentries, in genuine cocked hats -and scarlet coats, with their enormous muskets shouldered, and the -ball-cartridges dangling in ostentatious rows from their bandoleers, -planted at the front, and facing the audience, one at each side of the -stage--a vivid evidence of the stern vicissitudes and insecurity of the -times. For the rest, the audience of those days, in the brilliant -colours, and glittering lace, and profuse ornament, which the gorgeous -fashion of the time allowed, presented a spectacle of rich and dazzling -magnificence, such as no modern assembly of the kind can even faintly -approach. - -The major had hardly made his way to the box where his party were -seated, when his attention was caught by an object which had for him -all but irresistible attractions: this was the buxom person of Mistress -Jannet Rumble, a plump, good-looking, young widow of five-and-forty, -with a jolly smile, a hearty laugh, and a killing acquaintance with the -language of the eyes. These perfections--for of course her jointure, -which, by the way, was very considerable, could have had nothing to do -with it--were too much for Major O'Leary. He met the widow -accidentally, made a few careless inquiries about her finances, and -fell over head and ears in love with her upon the shortest possible -notice. Our friend had, therefore, hardly caught a glimpse of her, when -Miss Copland, beside whom he was seated, observed that he became -unusually meditative, and at length, after two or three attempts to -enter again into conversation--all resulting in total and incoherent -failure, the major made some blundering excuse, took his departure, and -in a moment had planted himself beside the fascinating Mistress -Rumble--where we shall allow him the protection of a generous -concealment, and suffer him to read the lady's eyes, and insinuate his -soft nonsense, without intruding for a moment upon the sanctity of -lovers' mutual confidences. - -Emily Copland having watched and enjoyed the manoeuvres of her military -friend till she was fairly tired of the amusement, and having in vain -sought to engage Henry Ashwoode, who was unusually moody and absent, in -conversation, at length, as a last desperate resource, turned her -attention to what was passing upon the stage. - -While all this was going forward, young Ashwoode was a good deal -disconcerted at observing among the crowd in the pit a personage with -whom, in the vicious haunts which he frequented, he had made a sort of -ambiguous acquaintance. The man was a bulky, broad-shouldered, -ill-looking fellow, with a large, vulgar, red face, and a coarse, -sensual mouth, whose blue, swollen lips indicated habitual -intemperance, and the nauseous ugliness of which was further enhanced -by the loss of two front teeth, probably by some violent agency, as was -testified by a deep scar across the mouth; the eyes of the man carried -that uncertain expression, half of shame and half of defiance, which -belongs to the coward, bully, and ruffian. The blackness of -habitually-indulged and ferocious passion was upon his countenance; and -the revolting character of the face was the more unequivocally marked -by a sort of smile, or rather sneer, which had in it neither -intellectuality nor gladness--an odious libel on the human smile, with -nothing but brute insolence and scorn, and a sardonic glee in its -baleful light--a smile from which every human sympathy recoiled abashed -and affrighted. Let not the reader imagine that the man and the -character are but the dreams of fiction; the wretch, whose outward -seeming we have imperfectly sketched, lived and moved in the scenes -where we have fixed our narrative--there grew rich--there rioted in the -indulgence of every passion which hell can inspire or to which wealth -can pander--there ministered to his insatiate avarice, by the -destruction and beggary of thousands of the young and thoughtless--and -there at length, in the fulness of his time, died--in the midst of -splendour and infamy: with malignant and triumphant perseverance having -persisted to his latest hour in the prosecution of his Satanic mission; -luring the unwary into the toils of crime and inextricable madness, and -thence into the pit of temporal and eternal ruin. This man, Nicholas -Blarden, Esquire, was the proprietor of one of those places where -fortunes are squandered, time sunk, habits, temper, character, morals, -all, corrupted, blasted, destroyed--one of those places which are set -apart as the especial temples of avarice, in which, year after year, -are for ever recurring the same perennial scenes of mad excess, of -calculating, merciless fraud, of bleak, brain-stricken despair--places -to which has been assigned, in a spirit of fearful truth, the -appellative of "hell." - -The man whom we have mentioned, it had never been young Ashwoode's -misfortune to meet, except in those scenes where his acquaintance was -useful, without being actually discreditable; for it was the fellow's -habit, with the instinctive caution which marks such gentlemen, to -court public observation as little as possible, and to skulk -systematically from the eye of popular scrutiny--seldom embarrassing -his aristocratic acquaintances by claiming the privilege of recognition -at unseasonable times; and confining himself, for the most part, -exclusively to his own coterie. Independently of his unpleasant natural -peculiarities there were other circumstances which tended to make him a -conspicuous object in the crowd--the fellow was extravagantly -over-dressed, and had planted himself in a standing posture upon a -bench, and from this elevated position was, with steady effrontery, -gazing into the box in which young Ashwoode's party were seated, -exchanging whispers and horse-laughs with three or four men who looked -scarcely less villainous than himself, and, as soon became apparent, -directing his marked and exclusive attention to Miss Ashwoode, who was -too deeply absorbed in her own sorrowful reflections to heed what was -passing around her. The young man felt his choler mount, as he beheld -the insolent conduct of the fellow--he saw, however, that Blarden was -evidently not perfectly sober, and hesitated what course he should -take. Strongly as he was tempted to spring at once into the pit, and -put an end to the impertinence by caning the fellow within an inch of -his life, he yet felt that a disreputable conflict of the kind had -better be avoided, and could not well be justified except as a last -resource; he, therefore, made up his mind to bear it as long as human -endurance could. - -Whatever hopes he entertained of escaping a collision with this man -were, however, destined to be disappointed. Nicky Blarden (as his -friends endearingly called him), to the great comfort of that part of -the audience in his immediate neighbourhood, at length descended from -his elevated stand, but not to conceal himself among the less obtrusive -spectators. With an insolent swagger the fellow shouldered his way -among the crowd towards the box where the object of his gaze was -seated; and, having planted himself directly beneath it, he stared -impudently up at young Ashwoode, exclaiming at the same time,-- - -"I say, Ashwoode, how does the world wag with you?--why ain't you -rattling the bones this evening? d----n me, you may as well be off, and -let me take care of the dimber mot up there?" - -"Do you speak to _me_, sir?" inquired young Ashwoode, turning almost -livid with passion, and speaking in that subdued tone, and with that -constrained coolness, which precedes some ungovernable outburst of -fury. - -"Why, ---- me, how great we've got all at once--I say, you don't know -me--Eh! don't you?" exclaimed the fellow, with vulgar scorn, at the -same time rather roughly poking Ashwoode's hand with the hilt of his -sword. - -"I shall show you, sir, when your drunken folly has passed away, by -very sore proofs, that I _do_ know you," replied the young man, -clutching his cane with such a grip as threatened to force his fingers -into it--"be assured, sir, I shall know you, and you me, as long as you -have the power to remember." - -"Whieu, d---- it, don't frighten us," said the fellow, looking round -for the approbation of his companions. "I say, d----n it, don't -frighten the people--come, come, no gammon. I say, Ashwoode, you must -introduce me, or present me, or whatever's the word, to your sister up -there--I say you _must_." - -"Quit this part of the house this instant, sir, or nothing shall -prevent me flogging you until I leave not a whole bone in your -body--this warning is the last--profit by it," rejoined Ashwoode, in a -low tone of bitter rage. - -"Oh, ho! it's there you are--is it?" rejoined the fellow, with a wink -at his comrades, "so you're going to beat the people--why, d----n it, -you're enough to make a horse laugh. I say I want to know your sister, -or your miss, or whatever she is, with the black hair up there, and if -you won't introduce me, d----n it, I must only introduce myself." - -So saying, the fellow made a spring and caught the ledge of the front -of the box, with the intention of vaulting into the place. Lord Aspenly -and the young ladies had arisen in some alarm. - -"My lord," said young Ashwoode, "have the goodness to conduct the -ladies to the lobby--I will join you in a moment." - -This direction was promptly obeyed, and at the same moment the young -man caught the fellow, already half into the box, by the neckcloth, -dragged his body across the wooden parapet, and while he struggled -helplessly to disengage himself--half strangled, and without the power -to get either up or down--with his heavy cane, the young -gentleman--every nerve, sinew, and muscle being strung to tenfold power -by fury--inflicted upon his back and ribs a castigation so prolonged -and tremendous, that before it had ended, the scoundrel was perfectly -insensible, in which state Henry Ashwoode flung him down again into the -pit, amid the obstreperous acclamations of all parts of the house--an -uproar of applause in which the spectators in the pit joined with such -hearty enthusiasm, that at length, touched with a kindred heroism, they -turned upon the associates of the fallen champion, and fairly kicked -and cuffed them out of the house. - -This feat accomplished, the young gentleman went down the stairs to the -street-entrance, and, after considerable delay, succeeded, with the -assistance of the footman who had attended him into the house, in -finding out their carriage, and having it brought to the door--not -judging it expedient that the ladies should return to their places, -where they would, of course, be exposed to the gazing curiosity of the -multitude. He found the party in the lobby quite recovered from -whatever was unpleasant in the excitement of the scene, the more -violent part of which they had not witnessed. Lord Aspenly and Emily -Copland were laughing over the adventure; and Mary, flashed and -agitated, was looking better than she had before upon that night. -Taking his cousin under his own protection, and consigning his sister -to that of Lord Aspenly, young Ashwoode led the way to the carriage. As -they passed slowly along the lobby, the quick eye of Mary Ashwoode -discerned a form, at sight of which her heart swelled and throbbed as -though it would burst--the colour fled from her cheeks, and she felt -for a moment on the point of swooning; the pride of her sex, however, -sustained her; the tingling blood again mounted warmly to her cheeks, -her eye brightened, and she listened, with more apparent interest than -perhaps she ever did before, to Lord Aspenly's remarks--the form was -O'Connor's. As she passed him, she returned his salute with a slight -and haughty bow, and saw, and felt the stern, cold, proud expression -which marked his pale and handsome features. In another moment she was -seated in the carriage; the doors were closed, crack went the whip, and -clatter go the iron hoofs on the pavement--but before they had -traversed a hundred yards on their homeward way, poor Mary Ashwoode -sunk back in her place, and fainted away. - - - - -CHAPTER XX. - -THE LODGING--YOUNG MELANCHOLY AND OLD REMEMBRANCES--AN ADVENTURE AMONG -THE YEW HEDGES OF MORLEY COURT. - - -"There is no more doubt--no more hope"--said O'Connor, as, wrapt in his -cloak, he slowly pursued his way homeward--"the worst _is_ true--she is -quite estranged from me--how deceived--how utterly blind I have -been--yet who could have thought it? Light-hearted, vain, worthless--it -is all, all true--my own eyes have seen it. Well, even this must be -borne--borne as best it may, and with a manly spirit. I have been, -indeed, miserably cheated"--he continued, with bitter vehemence--"and -what remains for me? I've been infatuated--a self-flattered fool, and -waken thus to find _all_ lost--but grief avails not--there lie before -me many paths of honourable toil, and many avenues to honourable -death--the ambition of my life is over--henceforth the world has -nothing to offer me. I will leave this, the country of my ill-fated -birth--leave it for ever, and end my days honourably, and God grant -soon, far away from the only one I ever loved--from her who has -betrayed me." - -Such were the thoughts which darkly and vaguely hurried through -O'Connor's mind as he retraced his steps. Before he had arrived, -however, at the "Cock and Anchor," whitherward he had mechanically -directed his course, he bethought himself, and turned in a different -direction towards the house in which his worthy friend, Mr. -Audley--having an inveterate prejudice against all inns, which, without -exception, he averred to be the especial sanctuaries of damp sheets, -bugs, thieves, and rheumatic fevers--had already established himself as -a weekly lodger. - -"Pooh, pooh! you foolish boy," ejaculated the old bachelor, with -considerable energy, in reply to O'Connor's gloomy and passionate -language; "nonsense, sir, and folly, and absurdity--you'll give me the -vapours if you go on this way--what the devil do you want of foreign -service and foreign graves--do you think, booby, it was for that I came -over here--tilly vally, tilly vally--I know as well as you, or any -other jackanapes, what love is. I tell you, sirrah, _I_ have been in -love, and _I_ have been jilted--_jilted_, sir! and when I _was_ jilted, -I thought the jilting itself quite enough, without improving the matter -by getting myself buried, dead or alive." Here the little gentleman -knocked the table recklessly with his knuckles, buried his hands in his -breeches pockets, and rising from his chair, paced the room with an -impressive tread. "Had you ever seen Letty Bodkin you might, indeed, -have known what love is"--he continued, breathing very hard--"Letty -Bodkin jilted me, and I got over it. I did not ask for razors, or -cannon balls, or foreign interment, sir; but I vented my indignation -like a man of business, in totting up the books, and running up a heavy -arrear in the office accounts--yes, sir, I did more good in the way of -arithmetic and book-keeping during that three weeks of love-sick agony, -than an ordinary man, without the stimulus, would do in a year"--there -was another pause here, and he resumed in a softened tone--"but Letty -Bodkin was no ordinary woman. Oh! you scoundrel, had you seen her, -you'd have been neither to hold nor to bind--there was nothing she -could not do--she embroidered a waistcoat for me--heigho! scarlet -geraniums and parsley sprigs--and she danced like--like a--a spring -board--she'd sail through a minuet like a duck in a pond, and hop and -bounce through 'Sir Roger de Coverley' like a hot chestnut on a -griddle;--and then she sang--oh, her singing!--I've heard turtle-doves -and thrushes, and, in fact, most kind of fowls of all sorts and sizes; -but no nightingale ever came up to her in 'The Captain endearing and -tall,' and 'The Shepherdess dying for love'--there never lived a -man"--continued he, with increasing vehemence--"I don't care when or -where, who could have stood, sate, or walked in her company for -half-an-hour, without making an old fool of himself--she was just my -age, perhaps a year or two more--I wonder whether she is much -changed--heigho!" - -Having thus delivered himself, Mr. Audley lapsed into meditation, and -thence into a faint and rather painful attempt to vocalize his -remembrance of "The Captain endearing and tall," engaged in which -desperate operation of memory, O'Connor left the old gentleman, and -returned to his temporary abode to pass a sleepless night of vain -remembrances, regrets, and despair. - -On the morning subsequent to the somewhat disorderly scene which we -have described as having occurred in the theatre, Mary Ashwoode, as -usual, sate silent and melancholy, in the dressing-room of her father, -Sir Richard. The baronet was not yet sufficiently recovered to venture -downstairs to breakfast, which in those days was a very early meal -indeed. After an unusually prolonged silence, the old man, turning -suddenly to his daughter, abruptly said, "Mary, you have now had some -days to study Lord Aspenly--how do you like him?" - -The girl raised her eyes, not a little surprised at the question, and -doubtful whether she had heard it aright. - -"I say," resumed he, "you ought to have been able by this time to -arrive at a fair judgment as to Lord Aspenly's merits--what do you -think of him--do you like him?" - -"Indeed, father," replied she, "I have observed him very little--he may -be a very estimable man, but I have not seen enough of him to form any -opinion; and indeed, if I had, _my_ opinion must needs be a matter of -the merest indifference to him and everyone else." - -"Your opinion upon this point," replied Sir Richard, tartly, "happens -_not_ to be a matter of indifference." - -A considerable pause again ensued, during which Mary Ashwoode had ample -time to reflect upon the very unpleasant doubts which this brief -speech, and the tone in which it was uttered, were calculated to -inspire. - -"Lord Aspenly's manners are very agreeable, _very_," continued Sir -Richard, meditatively--"I may say, indeed, fascinating--_very_--do you -think so?" he added sharply, turning towards his daughter. - -This was rather a puzzling question. The girl had never thought about -him except as a frivolous old beau; yet it was plain she could not say -so without vexing her father; she therefore adopted the simplest -expedient under such perplexing circumstances, and preserved an -embarrassed silence. - -"The fact is," said Sir Richard, raising himself a little, so as to -look full in his daughter's face, at the same time speaking slowly and -sternly, "the fact is, I had better be explicit on this subject. _I_ am -anxious that you should think well of Lord Aspenly; it is, in short, my -wish and pleasure that you should _like_ him; you understand me--you -had _better_ understand me." This was said with an emphasis not to be -mistaken, and another pause ensued. "For the present," continued he, -"run down and amuse yourself--and--stay--offer to show his lordship the -old terrace garden--do you mind? Now, once more, run away." - -So saying, the old gentleman turned coolly from her, and rang his -hand-bell vehemently. Scarcely knowing what she did, such was her -astonishment at all that had passed, Mary Ashwoode left the room -without any very clear notion as to whither she was going, or what to -do; nor was her confusion much relieved when, on entering the hall, the -first object which encountered her was Lord Aspenly himself, with his -triangular hat under his arm, while he adjusted his deep lace -ruffles--he had never looked so ugly before. As he stood beneath her -while she descended the broad staircase, smiling from ear to ear, and -bowing with the most chivalric profundity, his skinny, lemon-coloured -face, and cold, glittering little eyes raised toward her--she thought -that it was impossible for the human shape so nearly to assume the -outward semblance of a squat, emaciated toad. - -"Miss Ashwoode, as I live!" exclaimed the noble peer, with his most -gracious and fascinating smile. "On what mission of love and mercy does -she move? Shall I hope that her first act of pity may be exercised in -favour of the most devoted of her slaves? I have been looking in vain -for a guide through the intricacies of Sir Richard's yew hedges and -leaden statues; may I hope that my presiding angel has sent me one in -you?" - -Lord Aspenly paused, and grinned wider and wider, but receiving no -answer, he resumed,-- - -"I understand, Miss Ashwoode, that the pleasure-grounds, which surround -us, abound in samples of your exquisite taste; as a votary of Flora, -may I ask, if the request be not too bold, that you will vouchsafe to -lead a bewildered pilgrim to the object of his search? There is--is -there not?--shrined in the centre of these rustic labyrinths, a small -flower-garden which owes its sweet existence to your creative genius; -if it be not too remote, and if you can afford so much leisure, allow -me to implore your guidance." - -As he thus spoke, with a graceful flourish, the little gentleman -extended his hand, and courteously taking hers by the extreme points of -the fingers, he led her forward in a manner, as he thought, so engaging -as to put resistance out of the question. Mary Ashwoode felt far too -little interest in anything but the one ever-present grief which -weighed upon her heart, to deny the old fop his trifling request; -shrouding her graceful limbs, therefore, in a short cloak, and drawing -the hood over her head, she walked forth, with slow steps and an aching -heart, among the trim hedges which fenced the old-fashioned pleasure -walks. - -"Beauty," exclaimed the nobleman, as he walked with an air of romantic -gallantry by her side, and glancing as he spoke at the flowers which -adorned the border of the path--"beauty is nowhere seen to greater -advantage than in spots like this; where nature has amassed whatever is -most beautiful in the inanimate creation, only to prove how unutterably -more exquisite are the charms of _living_ loveliness: these walks, but -this moment to me a wilderness, are now so many paths of magic -pleasure--how can I enough thank the kind enchantress to whom I owe the -transformation?" Here the little gentleman looked unutterable things, -and a silence of some minutes ensued, during which he effected some -dozen very wheezy sighs. Emboldened by Miss Ashwoode's silence, which -he interpreted as a very unequivocal proof of conscious tenderness, he -resolved to put an end to the skirmishing with which he had opened his -attack, and to commence the action in downright earnestness. "This -place breathes an atmosphere of romance; it is a spot consecrated to -the worship of love; it is--it is the shrine of passion, and I--_I_ am -a votary--a worshipper." - -Miss Ashwoode paused in mingled surprise and displeasure, for his -vehemence had become so excessive as, in conjunction with his asthma, -to threaten to choke his lordship outright. When Mary Ashwoode stopped -short, Lord Aspenly took it for granted that the crisis had arrived, -and that the moment for the decisive onset was now come; he therefore -ejaculated with a rapturous croak,-- - -"And you--_you_ are my divinity!" and at the same moment he descended -stiffly upon his two knees, caught her hand in his, and began to mumble -it with unmistakable devotion. - -"My lord--Lord Aspenly!--surely your lordship cannot mean--have done, -my lord," exclaimed the astonished girl, withdrawing her hand -indignantly from his grasp. "Rise, my lord; you cannot mean otherwise -than to mock me by such extravagance. My lord--my lord, you surprise -and shock me beyond expression." - -"Angel of beauty! most exquisite--most perfect of your sex," gasped his -lordship, "I love you--yes, to distraction. Answer me, if you would not -have me expire at your feet--ugh--ugh--tell me that I may -hope--ugh--that I am not indifferent to you--ugh, ugh, ugh,--that--that -you can love me?" Here his lordship was seized with so violent a fit of -coughing, that Miss Ashwoode began to fear that he would expire at her -feet in downright earnest. During the paroxysm, in which, with one hand -pressed upon his side, he supported himself by leaning with the other -upon the ground, Mary had ample time to collect her thoughts, so that -when at length he had recovered his breath, she addressed him with -composure and decision. - -"My lord," she said, "I am grateful for your preference of me; -although, when I consider the shortness of my acquaintance with you, -and how few have been your opportunities of knowing me, I cannot but -wonder very much at its vehemence. For me, your lordship cannot feel -more than an idle fancy, which will, no doubt, pass away just as -lightly as it came; and as for my feelings, I have only to say, that it -is wholly impossible for you ever to establish in them any interest of -the kind you look for. Indeed, indeed, my lord, I hope I have not given -you pain--nothing can be further from my wish than to do so; but it is -my duty to tell you plainly and at once my real feelings. I should -otherwise but trifle with your kindness, for which, although I cannot -return it as you desire, I shall ever be grateful." - -Having thus spoken, she turned from her noble suitor, and began to -retrace her steps rapidly towards the house. - -"Stay, Miss Ashwoode--remain here for a moment--you _must_ hear me!" -exclaimed Lord Aspenly, in a tone so altered, that she involuntarily -paused, while his lordship, with some difficulty, raised himself again -to his feet, and with a flushed and haggard face, in which still -lingered the ghastly phantom of his habitual smile, he hobbled to her -side. "Miss Ashwoode," he exclaimed, in a tone tremulous with emotions -very different from love, "I--I--I am not used to be treated -cavalierly--I--I will not brook it: I am not to be trifled -with--jilted--madam, jilted, and taken in. You have accepted and -encouraged my attentions--attentions which you cannot have mistaken; -and now, madam, when I make you an offer--such as your ambition, your -most presumptuous ambition, dared not have anticipated--the offer of my -hand--and--and a coronet, you coolly tell me you never cared for me. -Why, what on earth do you look for or expect?--a foreign prince or -potentate, an emperor, ha--ha--he--he--ugh--ugh--ugh! I tell you -plainly, Miss Ashwoode, that _my_ feelings _must_ be considered. I have -long made my passion known to you; it has been encouraged; and I have -obtained Sir Richard's--your father's--sanction and approval. You had -better reconsider what you have said. I shall give you an hour; at the -end of that time, unless you see the propriety of avowing feelings -which, you must pardon me when I say it, your encouragement of my -advances has long virtually acknowledged, I must lay the whole case, -including all the painful details of my own ill-usage, before Sir -Richard Ashwoode, and trust to his powers of persuasion to induce you -to act reasonably, and, I _will_ add, _honourably_." - -Here his lordship took several extraordinarily copious pinches of -snuff, after which he bowed very low, conjured up an unusually hideous -smile, in which spite, fury, and triumph were eagerly mingled, and -hobbled away before the astonished girl had time to muster her spirits -sufficiently to answer him. - - - - -CHAPTER XXI. - -WHO APPEARED TO MARY ASHWOODE AS SHE SATE UNDER THE TREES--THE -CHAMPION. - - -With flashing eyes and a swelling heart, struck dumb with unutterable -indignation, the beautiful girl stood fixed in the attitude in which -his last words had reached her, while the enraged and unmanly old fop -hobbled away, with the ease and grace with which a crippled ape might -move over a hot griddle. He had disappeared for some minutes before she -had recovered herself sufficiently to think or speak. - -"If _he_ were by my side," she said, "this noble lord dared not have -used me thus. Edmond would have died a thousand deaths first. But oh! -God look upon me, for _his_ love is gone from me, and I am now a poor, -grieved, desolate creature, with none to help me." - -Thus saying, she sate herself down upon the grass bank, beneath the -tall and antique trees, and wept with all the bitter and devoted -abandonment of hopeless sorrow. From this unrestrained transport of -grief she was at length aroused by the pressure of a hand, gently and -kindly laid upon her shoulder. - -"What vexes you, Mary, my little girl?" inquired Major O'Leary, for he -it was that stood by her. "Come, darling, don't fret, but tell your old -uncle the whole business, and twenty to one, he has wit enough in his -old noddle yet to set matters to rights. So, so, my darling, dry your -pretty eyes--wipe the tears away; why should they wet your young -cheeks, my poor little doat, that you always were. It is too early yet -for sorrow to come on you. Wouldn't I throw myself between my little -pet and all grief and danger? Then trust to me, darling; wipe away the -tears, or by ---- I'll begin to cry myself. Dry your eyes, and see if I -can't help you one way or another." - -The mellow brogue of the old major had never fallen before with such a -tender pathos upon the ear of his beautiful niece, as now that its rich -current bore full upon her heart the unlooked-for words of kindness and -comfort. - -"Were not you always _my_ pet," continued he, with the same tenderness -and pity in his tone, "from the time I first took you upon my knee, my -poor little Mary? And were not you fond of your old rascally uncle -O'Leary? Usedn't I always to take your part, right or wrong; and do you -think I'll desert you now? Then tell it all to me--ain't I your poor -old uncle, the same as ever? Come, then, dry the tears--there's a -darling--wipe them away." - -While thus speaking, the warm-hearted old man took her hand, with a -touching mixture of gallantry, pity, and affection, and kissed it again -and again, with a thousand accompanying expressions of endearment, such -as in the days of her childhood he had been wont to lavish upon his -little favourite. The poor girl, touched by the kindness of her early -friend, whose good-natured sympathy was not to be mistaken, gradually -recovered her composure, and yielding to the urgencies of the major, -who clearly perceived that something extraordinarily distressing must -have occurred to account for her extreme agitation, she at length told -him the immediate cause of her grief and excitement. The major listened -to the narrative with growing indignation, and when it had ended, he -inquired, in a tone, about whose unnatural calmness there was something -infinitely more formidable than in the noisiest clamour of fury,-- - -"Which way, darling, did his lordship go when he left you?" - -The girl looked in his face, and saw his deadly purpose there. - -"Uncle, my own dear uncle," she cried distractedly, "for God's sake do -not follow him--for God's sake--I conjure you, I implore--" She would -have cast herself at his feet, but the major caught her in his arms. - -"Well, well, my darling." he exclaimed, "I'll not _kill_ him, well as -he deserves it--I'll not: you have saved his life. I pledge you my -honour, as a gentleman and a soldier, I'll not harm him for what he has -said or done this day--are you satisfied?" - -"I am, I am! Thank God, thank God!" exclaimed the poor girl, eagerly. - -"But, Mary, I must see him," rejoined the major; "he has threatened to -set Sir Richard upon you--I must see him; you don't object to that, -under the promise I have made? I want to--to _reason_ with him. He -shall not get you into trouble with the baronet; for though Richard and -I came of the same mother, we are not of the same marriage, nor of the -same mould--I would not for a cool hundred that he told his story to -your father." - -"Indeed, indeed, dear uncle," replied the girl, "I fear me there is -little hope of escape or ease for me. My father must know what has -passed; he will learn it inevitably, and then it needs no colouring or -misrepresentation to call down upon me his heaviest displeasure; his -anger I must endure as best I may. God help me. But neither threats nor -violence shall make me retract the answer I have given to Lord Aspenly, -nor ever yield consent to marry _him_--nor any other now." - -"Well, well, little Mary," rejoined the major, "I like your spirit. -Stand to that, and you'll never be sorry for it. In the meantime, I'll -venture to exercise his lordship's conversational powers in a brief -conference of a few minutes, and if I find him as reasonable as I -expect, you'll have no cause to regret my interposition. Don't look so -frightened--haven't I promised, on the honour of a gentleman, that I -will _not_ pink him for anything said or done in his conference with -you? To send a small sword through a bolster or a bailiff," he -continued, meditatively, "is an _indifferent_ action; but to spit such -a poisonous, crawling toad as the respectable old gentleman in -question, would be nothing short of _meritorious_--it is an act that -'ud tickle the fancy of every saint in heaven, and, if there's justice -on earth, would canonize myself. But never mind, I'll let it alone--the -little thing shall escape, since _you_ wish it--Major O'Leary has said -it, so let no doubt disturb you. Good-bye, my little darling, dry your -eyes, and let me see you, before an hour, as merry as in the merriest -days that are gone." - -So saying, Major O'Leary patted her cheek, and taking her hand -affectionately in both his, he added,-- - -"Sure I am, that there is more in all this than you care to tell me, my -little pet. I am sorely afraid there is something beyond my power to -remedy, to change your light-hearted nature so mournfully. What it is, -I will not inquire, but remember, darling, whenever you want a friend, -you'll find a sure one in me." - -Thus having spoken, he turned from her, and strode rapidly down the -walk, until the thick, formal hedges concealed his retreating form -behind their impenetrable screens of darksome verdure. - -Odd as were the manner and style of the major's professions, there was -something tender, something of heartiness, in his speech, which assured -her that she had indeed found a friend in him--rash, volatile, and -violent it might be, but still one on whose truth and energy she might -calculate. That there was one being who felt with her and for her, was -a discovery which touched her heart and moved her generous spirit, and -she now regarded the old major, whose spoiled favourite in childhood -she had been, but whom, before, she had never known capable of a -serious feeling, with emotions of affection and gratitude, stronger and -more ardent than he had ever earned from any other being. Agitated, -grieved, and excited, she hurriedly left the scene of this interview, -and sought relief for her overcharged feelings in the quiet and -seclusion of her chamber. - - - - -CHAPTER XXII. - -THE SPINET. - - -In no very pleasant frame of mind did Lord Aspenly retrace his steps -toward the old house. His lordship had, all his life, been firmly -persuaded that the whole female creation had been sighing and pining -for the possession of his heart and equipage. He knew that among those -with whom his chief experience lay, his fortune and his coronet were -considerations not to be resisted; and he as firmly believed, that even -without such recommendations, few women, certainly none of any taste or -discrimination, could be found with hearts so steeled against the -archery of Cupid, as to resist the fascinations of his manner and -conversation, supported and directed, as both were, by the tact and -experience drawn from a practice of more years than his lordship cared -to count, even to himself. He had, however, smiled, danced, and -chatted, in impregnable celibacy, through more than half a century of -gaiety and frivolity--breaking, as he thought, hearts innumerable, and, -at all events, disappointing very many calculations--until, at length, -his lordship had arrived at that precise period of existence at which -old gentlemen, not unfrequently, become all at once romantic, -disinterested, and indiscreet--nobody exactly knows why--unless it be -for variety, or to spite an heir presumptive, or else that, as a -preliminary to second childhood, nature has ordained a second _boyhood_ -too. Certain, however, it is, that Lord Aspenly was seized, on a -sudden, with a matrimonial frenzy; and, tired of the hackneyed -schemers, in the centre of whose manoeuvres he had stood and smiled so -long in contemptuous security, he resolved that his choice should -honour some simple, unsophisticated beauty, who had never plotted his -matrimony. - -Fired with this benevolent resolution, he almost instantly selected -Mary Ashwoode as the happy companion of his second childhood, -acquainted Sir Richard with his purpose, of course received his consent -and blessing, and forthwith opened his entrenchments with the same -certainty of success with which the great Duke of Marlborough might -have invested a Flanders village. The inexperience of a girl who had -mixed, comparatively, so little in gay society, her consequent openness -to flattery, and susceptibility of being fascinated by the elegance of -his address, and the splendour of his fortune--all these -considerations, accompanied by a clear consciousness of his own -infinite condescension in thinking of her at all, had completely -excluded from all his calculations the very possibility of her doing -anything else than jump into his arms the moment he should open them to -receive her. The result of the interview which had just taken place, -had come upon him with the overwhelming suddenness of a thunderbolt. -Rejected!--Lord Aspenly rejected!--a coronet, and a fortune, and a man -whom all the male world might envy--each and all rejected!--and by -whom?--a chit of a girl, who had no right to look higher than a -half-pay captain with a wooden leg, or a fox-hunting boor, with a few -inaccessible acres of bog and mountain--the daughter of a spendthrift -baronet, who was, as everyone knew, on the high road to ruin. Death and -fury! was it to be endured? - -The little lover, absorbed in such tranquilizing reflections, arrived -at the house, and entered the drawing-room. It was not unoccupied; -seated by a spinet, and with a sheet of music-paper in her lap, and a -pencil in her hand, was the fair Emily Copland. As he entered, she -raised her eyes, started a little, became gracefully confused, and -then, with her archest smile, exclaimed,-- - -"What shall I say, my lord? You have detected me. I have neither -defence nor palliation to offer; you have fairly caught me. Here am I -engaged in perhaps the most presumptuous task that ever silly maiden -undertook--I am wedding your beautiful verses to most unworthy music of -my own. After all, there is nothing like a simple ballad. Such -exquisite lines as these inspire music of themselves. Would that Henry -Purcell had had but a peep at them! To what might they not have -prompted such a genius--to what, indeed?" - -So sublime was the flight of fancy suggested by this interrogatory, -that Miss Copland shook her head slowly in poetic rapture, and gazed -fondly for some seconds upon the carpet, apparently unconscious of Lord -Aspenly's presence. - -"_She_ is a fine creature," half murmured he, with an emphasis upon the -identity which implied a contrast not very favourable to -Mary--"and--and very pretty--nay, she looks almost beautiful, and -so--so lively--so much vivacity. Never was poor poet so much -flattered," continued his lordship, approaching, as he spoke, and -raising his voice, but not above its most mellifluous pitch; "to have -his verses read by _such_ eyes, to have them chanted by such a -minstrel, were honour too high for the noblest bards of the noblest -days of poetry: for me it is a happiness almost too great; yet, if the -request be not a presumptuous one, may I, in all humility, pray that -you will favour me with the music to which you have coupled my most -undeserving--my most favoured lines?" - -The young lady looked modest, glanced coyly at the paper which lay in -her lap, looked modest once more, and then arch again, and at length, -with rather a fluttered air, she threw her hands over the keys of the -instrument, and to a tune, of which we say enough when we state that it -was in no way unworthy of the words, she sang, rather better than young -ladies usually do, the following exquisite stanzas from his lordship's -pen:-- - - "Tho' Chloe slight me when I woo, - And scorn the love of poor Philander; - The shepherd's heart she scorns is true, - His heart is true, his passion tender. - - "But poor Philander sighs in vain, - In vain laments the poor Philander; - Fair Chloe scorns with high disdain, - His love so true and passion tender. - - "And here Philander lays him down, - Here will expire the poor Philander; - The victim of fair Chloe's frown, - Of love so true and passion tender. - - "Ah, well-a-day! the shepherd's dead; - Ay, dead and gone, the poor Philander; - And Dryads crown with flowers his head, - And Cupid mourns his love so tender." - -During this performance, Lord Aspenly, who had now perfectly recovered -his equanimity, marked the time with head and hand, standing the while -beside the fair performer, and every note she sang found its way -through the wide portals of his vanity, directly to his heart. - -"Brava! brava! bravissima!" murmured his lordship, from time to time. -"Beautiful, beautiful air--most appropriate--most simple; not a note -that accords not with the word it carries--beautiful, indeed! A -thousand thanks! I have become quite conceited of lines of which -heretofore I was half ashamed. I am quite elated--at once overpowered -by the characteristic vanity of the poet, and more than recompensed by -the reality of his proudest aspiration--that of seeing his verses -appreciated by a heart of sensibility, and of hearing them sung by the -lips of beauty." - -"I am but too happy if I am _forgiven_," replied Emily Copland, -slightly laughing, and with a heightened colour, while the momentary -overflow of merriment was followed by a sigh, and her eyes sank -pensively upon the ground. - -This little by-play was not lost upon Lord Aspenly. - -"Poor little thing," he inwardly remarked, "she is in a very bad -way--desperate--quite desperate. What a devil of a rascal I am to be -sure! Egad! it's almost a pity--she's a decidedly superior person; she -has an elegant turn of mind--refinement--taste--egad! she is a fine -creature--and so simple. She little knows I see it all; perhaps she -hardly knows herself what ails her--poor, poor little thing!" - -While these thoughts floated rapidly through his mind, he felt, along -with his spite and anger towards Mary Ashwoode, a feeling of contempt, -almost of disgust, engendered by her audacious non-appreciation of his -merits--an impertinence which appeared the more monstrous by the -contrast of Emily Copland's tenderness. _She_ had made it plain enough, -by all the artless signs which simple maidens know not how to hide, -that his fascinations had done their fatal work upon her heart. He had -seen, this for several days, but not with the overwhelming distinctness -with which he now beheld it. - -"Poor, poor little girl!" said his lordship to himself; "I am very, -very sorry, but it cannot be helped; it is no fault of mine. I am -really very, very, confoundedly sorry." - -In saying so to himself, however, he told himself a lie; for, instead -of being grieved, he was pleased beyond measure--a fact which he might -have ascertained by a single glance at the reflection of his wreathed -smiles in the ponderous mirror which hung forward from the pier between -the windows, as if staring down in wondering curiosity upon the -progress of the flirtation. Not caring to disturb a train of thought -which his vanity told him were but riveting the subtle chains which -bound another victim to his conquering chariot-wheels, the Earl of -Aspenly turned, with careless ease, to a table, on which lay some -specimens of that worsted tapestry-work, in which the fair maidens of a -century and a half ago were wont to exercise their taste and skill. - -"Your work is very, very beautiful," said he, after a considerable -pause, and laying down the canvas, upon whose unfinished worsted task -he had been for some time gazing. - -"That is my _cousin's_ work," said Emily, not sorry to turn the -conversation to a subject upon which, for many reasons, she wished to -dwell; "she used to work a great deal with me before she grew -romantic--before she fell in love." - -"In love!--with whom?" inquired Lord Aspenly, with remarkable -quickness. - -"Don't you know, my lord?" inquired Emily Copland, in simple wonder. -"May be I ought not to have told you--I am sure I ought not. Do not ask -me any more. I am the giddiest girl--the most thoughtless!" - -"Nay, nay," said Lord Aspenly, "you need not be afraid to trust _me_--I -never tell tales; and now that I know the fact that she is in love, -there can be no harm in telling me the less important particulars. On -my honour," continued his lordship, with real earnestness, and affected -playfulness--"upon my sacred honour! I shall not breathe one syllable -of it to mortal--I shall be as secret as the tomb. Who is the happy -person in question?" - -"Well, my lord, you'll _promise_ not to betray me," replied she. "I -know very well I ought not to have said a word about it; but as I -_have_ made the blunder, I see no harm in telling you all I know; but -you _will_ be secret?" - -"On my honour--on my life and soul, I swear!" exclaimed his lordship, -with unaffected eagerness. - -"Well, then, the happy man is a Mr. Edmond O'Connor," replied she. - -"O'Connor--O'Connor--I never saw nor heard of the man before," rejoined -the earl, reflectively. "Is he wealthy?" - -"Oh! no; a mere beggarman," replied Emily, "and a Papist to boot!" - -"Ha, ha, ha--he, he, he! a Papist beggar," exclaimed his lordship, with -an hysterical giggle, which was intended for a careless laugh. "Has he -any conversation--any manner--any attraction of _that_ kind?" - -"Oh! none in the world!--both ignorant, and I think, vulgar," replied -Emily. "In short, he is very nearly a stupid boor!" - -"Excellent! Ha, ha--he, he, he!--ugh! ugh!--very capital--excellent! -excellent!" exclaimed his lordship, although he might have found some -difficulty in explaining in what, precisely the peculiar excellence of -the announcement consisted. "Is he--is he--a--a--_handsome_?" - -"Decidedly _not_ what I consider handsome!" replied she; "he is a -large, coarse-looking fellow, with very broad shoulders--very -large--and as they say of oxen, in very great condition--a sort of a -prize man!" - -"Ha, ha!--ugh! ugh!--he, he, he, he, he!--ugh, ugh, -ugh!--de--lightful--quite delightful!" exclaimed the earl, in a tone of -intense chagrin, for he was conscious that his own figure was perhaps a -little too scraggy, and his legs a _leetle_ too nearly approaching the -genus spindle, and being so, there was no trait in the female character -which he so inveterately abhorred and despised as their tendency to -prefer those figures which exhibited a due proportion of thew and -muscle. Under a cloud of rappee, his lordship made a desperate attempt -to look perfectly delighted and amused, and effected a retreat to the -window, where he again indulged in a titter of unutterable spite and -vexation. - -"And what says Sir Richard to the advances of this very desirable -gentleman?" inquired he, after a little time. - -"Sir Richard is, of course, violently against it," replied Emily -Copland. - -"So I should have supposed," returned the little nobleman, briskly. And -turning again to the window, he relapsed into silence, looked out -intently for some minutes, took more snuff, and finally, consulting his -watch, with a few words of apology, and a gracious smile and a bow, -quitted the room. - - - - -CHAPTER XXIII. - -THE DARK ROOM--CONTAINING PLENTY OF SCARS AND BRUISES AND PLANS OF -VENGEANCE. - - -On the same day a very different scene was passing in another quarter, -whither for a few moments we must transport the reader. In a large and -aristocratic-looking brick house, situated near the then fashionable -suburb of Glasnevin, surrounded by stately trees, and within furnished -with the most prodigal splendour, combined with the strictest and most -minute attention to comfort and luxury, and in a large and lofty -chamber, carefully darkened, screened round by the rich and voluminous -folds of the silken curtains, with spider-tables laden with fruits and -wines and phials of medicine, crowded around him, and rather buried -than supported among a luxurious pile of pillows, lay, in sore bodily -torment, with fevered pulse, and heart and brain busy with a thousand -projects of revenge, the identical Nicholas Blarden, whose signal -misadventure in the theatre, upon the preceding evening, we have -already recorded. A decent-looking matron sate in a capacious chair, -near the bed, in the capacity of nurse-tender, while her constrained -and restless manner, as well as the frightened expression with which, -from time to time, she stole a glance at the bloated mass of scars and -bruises, of which she had the care, pretty plainly argued the sweet and -patient resignation with which her charge endured his sufferings. In -the recess of the curtained window sate a little black boy, arrayed -according to the prevailing fashion, in a fancy suit, and with a turban -on his head, and carrying in his awe-struck countenance, as well as in -the immobility of his attitude, a woeful contradiction to the gaiety of -his attire. - -"Drink--drink--where's that d----d hag?--give me drink, I say!" howled -the prostrate gambler. - -The woman started to her feet, and with a step which fell noiselessly -upon the deep-piled carpets which covered the floor, she hastened to -supply him. - -He had hardly swallowed the draught, when a low knock at the door -announced a visitor. - -"Come in, can't you?" shouted Blarden. - -"How do you feel now, Nicky dear?" inquired a female voice--and a -handsome face, with rather a bold expression, and crowned by a small -mob-cap, overlaid with a profusion of the richest lace, peeped into the -room through the half-open door--"how do you feel?" - -"In _hell_--that's all," shouted he. - -"Doctor Mallarde is below, love," added she, without evincing either -surprise or emotion of any kind at the concise announcement which the -patient had just delivered. - -"Let him come up then," was the reply. - -"And a Mr. M'Quirk--a messenger from Mr. Chancey." - -"Let _him_ come up too. But why the hell did not Chancey come -himself?--That will do--pack--be off." - -The lady tossed her head, like one having authority, looked half -inclined to say something sharp, but thought better of it, and -contented herself with shutting the door with more emphasis than Dr. -Mallarde would have recommended. - -The physician of those days was a solemn personage: he would as readily -have appeared without his head, as without his full-bottomed wig; and -his ponderous gold-headed cane was a sort of fifth limb, the -supposition of whose absence involved a contradiction to the laws of -anatomy; his dress was rich and funereal; his step was slow and -pompous; his words very long and very few; his look was mysterious; his -nod awful; and the shake of his head unfathomable: in short, he was in -no respect very much better than a modern charlatan. The science which -he professed was then overgrown with absurdities and mystification. The -temper of the times was superstitious and credulous, the physician, -being wise in his generation, framed his outward man (including his air -and language) accordingly, and the populace swallowed his long words -and his electuaries with equal faith. - -Doctor Mallarde was a doctor-like person, and, in theatrical -phraseology, looked the part well. He was tall and stately, saturnine -and sallow in aspect, had bushy, grizzled brows, and a severe and -prominent dark eye, a thin, hooked nose, and a pair of lips just as -thin as it. Along with these advantages he had a habit of pressing the -gold head of his professional cane against one corner of his mouth, in -a way which produced a sinister and mysterious distortion of that -organ; and by exhibiting the medical baton, the outward and visible -sign of doctorship, in immediate juxtaposition with the fountain of -language, added enormously to the gravity and authority of the words -which from time to time proceeded therefrom. - -In the presence of such a spectre as this--intimately associated with -all that was nauseous and deadly on earth--it is hardly to be wondered -at that even Nicholas Blarden felt himself somewhat uneasy and abashed. -The physician felt his pulse, gazing the while upon the ceiling, and -pressing the gold head of his cane, as usual, to the corner of his -mouth; made him put out his tongue, asked him innumerable questions, -which we forbear to publish, and ended by forbidding his patient the -use of every comfort in which he had hitherto found relief, and by -writing a prescription which might have furnished a country dispensary -with good things for a twelvemonth. He then took his leave and his fee, -with the grisly announcement, that unless the drugs were all swallowed, -and the other matters attended to in a spirit of absolute submission, -he would not answer for the life of the patient. - -"I am d----d glad he's gone at last," exclaimed Blarden, with a kind of -gasp, as if a weight had been removed from his breast. "Curse me, if I -did not feel all the time as if my coffin was in the room. Are you -there, M'Quirk?" - -"Here I am, Mr. Blarden," rejoined the person addressed, whom we may as -well describe, as we shall have more to say about him by-and-by. - -Mr. M'Quirk was a small, wiry man, of fifty years and upwards, arrayed -in that style which is usually described as "shabby genteel." He was -gifted with one of those mean and commonplace countenances which seem -expressly made for the effectual concealment of the thoughts and -feelings of the possessor--an advantage which he further secured by -habitually keeping his eyes as nearly closed as might be, so that, for -any indication afforded by them of the movements of the inward man, -they might as well have been shut up altogether. The peculiarity, if -not the grace, of his appearance, was heightened by a contraction of -the muscles at the nape of the neck, which drew his head backward, and -produced a corresponding elevation of the chin, which, along with a -certain habitual toss of the head, gave to his appearance a kind of -caricatured affectation of superciliousness and _hauteur_, very -impressive to behold. Along with the swing of the head, which we have -before noticed, there was, whenever he spoke, a sort of careless -libration of the whole body, which, together with a certain way of -jerking or twitching the right shoulder from time to time, were the -only approaches to gesticulation in which he indulged. - -"Well, what does your master say?" inquired Blarden--"out with it, -can't you." - -"Master--master--indeed! Cock _him_ up with _master_," echoed the man, -with lofty disdain. - -"Ay! what does he say?" reiterated Blarden, in no very musical tones. -"D---- you, are you choking, or moonstruck? Out with it, can't you?" - -"_Chancey_ says that you had better think the matter over--and that's -his opinion," replied M'Quirk. - -"And a fine opinion it is," rejoined Blarden, furiously. "Why, in -hell's name, what's the matter with him--the--drivelling idiot? What's -law for--what's the courts for? Am I to be trounced and cudgelled in -the face of hundreds, and--and half _murdered_, and nothing for it? I -tell you, I'll be beggared before the scoundrel shall escape. If every -penny I'm worth in the world can buy it, I'll have justice. Tell that -sleepy sot Chancey that I'll _make_ him work. Ho--o--o--oh!" bawled the -wretch, as his anguish all returned a hundredfold in the fruitless -attempt to raise himself in bed. - -"Drink, here--_drink_--I'm choking! Hock and water. D---- you, don't -look so stupid and frightened. I'll not be bamboozled by an old -'pothecary. Quick with it, you fumbling witch." - -He finished the draught, and lay silently for a time. - -"See--mind me, M'Quirk," he said, after a pause, "tell Chancey to come -out himself--tell him to be here before evening, or I'll make him sorry -for it, do you mind; I want to give him directions. Tell him to come at -once, or I'll make him _smoke_ for it, that's all." - -"I understand--all right--very well; and so, as you seem settling for a -snooze, I wish you good-evening, Mr. Blarden, and all sorts of pleasure -and happiness," rejoined the messenger. - -The patient answered by a grin and a stifled howl, and Mr. M'Quirk, -having his head within the curtains, which screened him effectually -from the observation of the two attendants, and observing that Mr. -Blarden's eyes were closely shut in the rigid compression of pain, put -out his tongue, and indulged for a few seconds in an exceedingly ugly -grimace, after which, repeating his farewell in a tone of respectful -sympathy, he took his departure, chuckling inwardly all the way -downstairs, for the little gentleman had a playful turn for mischief. - -When Gordon Chancey, Esquire, barrister-at-law, in obedience to this -summons, arrived at Cherry Hill, for so the residence of the sick -voluptuary was called, he found his loving friend and patron, Nicholas -Blarden, babbling not of green fields, but of green curtains, theatres, -dice-boxes, bright eyes, small-swords, and the shades infernal--in a -word, in a high state of delirium. On calling next day, however, he -beheld him much recovered; and after an extremely animated discussion, -these two well-assorted confederates at length, by their united -ingenuity, succeeded in roughly sketching the outlines of a plan of -terrific vengeance, in all respects worthy of the diabolical council in -which it originated, and of whose progress and development this history -very fully treats. - - - - -CHAPTER XXIV. - -A CRITIC--A CONDITION--AND THE SMALL-SWORDS. - - -Lord Aspenly walked forth among the trim hedges and secluded walks -which surrounded the house, and by alternately taking enormous pinches -of rappee, and humming a favourite air or two, he wonderfully assisted -his philosophy in recovering his equanimity. - -"It matters but little how the affair ends," thought his lordship, "if -in matrimony--the girl is, after all, a very fine girl: but if the -matter is fairly off, in that case I shall--look very foolish," -suggested his conscience faintly, but his lordship dismissed the -thought precipitately--"in that case I shall make it a point to marry -within a fortnight. I should like to know the girl who would refuse -_me_"--"_the only one you ever asked_," suggested his conscience again, -but with no better result--"I should like to see the girl of sense or -discrimination who _could_ refuse me. I shall marry the finest girl in -the country, and _then_ I presume very few will be inclined to call me -fool." - -"Not _I_ for one, my lord," exclaimed a voice close by. Lord Aspenly -started, for he was conscious that in his energy he had uttered the -concluding words of his proud peroration with audible emphasis, and -became instantly aware that the speaker was no other than Major -O'Leary. - -"Not _I_ for one, my lord," repeated the major, with extreme gravity, -"I take it for granted, my lord, that you are no fool." - -"I am obliged to you, Major O'Leary, for your good opinion," replied -his lordship, drily, with a surprised look and a stiff inclination of -his person. - -"Nothing to be grateful for in it," replied the major, returning the -bow with grave politeness: "if years and discretion increase together, -you and I ought to be models of wisdom by this time of day. I'm proud -of my years, my lord, and I would be half as proud again if I could -count as many as your lordship." - -There was something singularly abrupt and uncalled for in all this, -which Lord Aspenly did not very well understand; he therefore stopped -short, and looked in the major's face; but reading in its staid and -formal gravity nothing whatever to furnish a clue to his exact purpose, -he made a kind of short bow, and continued his walk in dignified -silence. There was something exceedingly disagreeable, he thought, in -the manner of his companion--something very near approaching to cool -impertinence--which he could not account for upon any other supposition -than that the major had been prematurely indulging in the joys of -Bacchus. If, however, he thought that by the assumption of the frigid -and lofty dignity with which he met the advances of the major, he was -likely to relieve himself of his company, he was never more lamentably -mistaken. His military companion walked with a careless swagger by his -side, exactly regulating his pace by that of the little nobleman, whose -meditations he had so cruelly interrupted. - -"What on earth is to be done with this brute beast?" muttered his -lordship, taking care, however, that the query should not reach the -subject of it. "I must get rid of him--I must speak with the girl -privately--what the deuce is to be done?" - -They walked on a little further in perfect silence. At length his -lordship stopped short and exclaimed,-- - -"My dear major, I am a very dull companion--quite a bore; there are -times when the mind--the--the--spirits require _solitude_--and these -walks are the very scene for a lonely ramble. I dare venture to aver -that you are courting solitude like myself--your silence betrays -you--then pray do not stand on ceremony--_that_ walk leads down toward -the river--pray no ceremony." - -"Upon my conscience, my lord, I never was less inclined to stand on -ceremony than I am at this moment," replied the major; "so give -yourself no trouble in the world about me. Nothing would annoy me so -much as to have you think I was doing anything but precisely what I -liked best myself." - -Lord Aspenly bowed, took a violent pinch of snuff, and walked on, the -major still keeping by his side. After a long silence his lordship -began to lilt his own sweet verses in a careless sort of a way, which -was intended to convey to his tormentor that he had totally forgotten -his presence:-- - - "Tho' Chloe slight me when I woo, - And scorn the love of poor Philander; - The shepherd's heart she scorns is true, - His heart is true, his passion tender." - -"Passion tender," observed the major--"_passion_ tender--it's a -_nurse_-tender the like of you and me ought to be looking -for--_passion_ tender--upon my conscience, a good joke." - -Lord Aspenly was strongly tempted to give vent to his feelings; but -even at the imminent risk of bursting, he managed to suppress his fury. -The major was certainly (however unaccountable and mysterious the fact -might be) in a perfectly cut-throat frame of mind, and Lord Aspenly had -no desire to present _his_ weasand for the entertainment of his -military friend. - -"Tender--_tender_," continued the inexorable major, "allow me, my lord, -to suggest the word _tough_ as an improvement--_tender_, my lord, is a -term which does not apply to chickens beyond a certain time of life, -and it strikes me as too bold a license of poetry to apply it to a -gentleman of such extreme and venerable old age as your lordship; for I -take it for granted that Philander is another name for yourself." - -As the major uttered this critical remark, Lord Aspenly felt his brain, -as it were, fizz with downright fury; the instinct of self-preservation, -however, triumphed; he mastered his generous indignation, and resumed -his walk in a state of mind nothing short of awful. - -"My lord," inquired the major, with tragic abruptness, and with very -stern emphasis--"I take the liberty of asking, _have you made your -soul_?" - -The precise nature of the major's next proceeding, Lord Aspenly could -not exactly predict; of one thing, however, he felt assured, and that -was, that the designs of his companion were decidedly of a dangerous -character, and as he gazed in mute horror upon the major, confused but -terrific ideas of "homicidal monomania," and coroner's inquests floated -dimly through his distracted brain. - -"My soul?" faltered he, in undisguised trepidation. - -"Yes, my lord," repeated the major, with remarkable coolness, "have you -made your soul?" - -During this conference his lordship's complexion had shifted from its -original lemon-colour to a lively orange, and thence faded gradually -off into a pea-green; at which hue it remained fixed during the -remainder of the interview. - -"I protest--you cannot be serious--I am wholly in the dark. Positively, -Major O'Leary, this is very unaccountable conduct--you really -ought--pray explain." - -"Upon my conscience, I _will_ explain," rejoined the major, "although -the explanation won't make you much more in love with your present -predicament, unless I am very much out. You made my niece, Mary -Ashwoode, an offer of marriage to-day; well, she was much obliged to -you, but she did not _want_ to marry you, and she told you so civilly. -Did you then, like a man and a gentleman, take your answer from her as -you ought to have done, quietly and courteously? No, you did not; you -went to bully the poor girl, and to insult her; because she politely -declined to marry a--a--an ugly bunch of wrinkles, like you; and you -threatened to tell Sir Richard--ay, you _did_--to tell him your pitiful -story, you--you--you--but wait awhile. You want to have the poor girl -frightened and bullied into marrying you. Where's your spirit or your -feeling, my lord? But you don't know what the words mean. If ever you -did, you'd sooner have been racked to death, than have terrified and -insulted a poor friendless girl, as you thought her. But she's _not_ -friendless. I'll teach you she's not. As long as this arm can lift a -small-sword, and while the life is in my body, I'll never see any woman -maltreated by a scoundrel--a _scoundrel_, my lord; but I'll bring him -to his knees for it, or die in the attempt. And holding these opinions, -did you think I'd let you offend my niece? _No_, sir, I'd be blown to -atoms first." - -"Major O'Leary," replied his lordship, as soon as he had collected his -thoughts and recovered breath to speak, "your conduct is exceedingly -violent--very, and, I will add, most hasty and indiscreet. You have -entirely misconceived me, you have mistaken the whole affair. You will -regret this violence--I protest--I know you will, when you understand -the whole matter. At present, knowing the nature of your feelings, I -protest, though I might naturally resent your observations, it is not -in my nature, in my _heart_ to be angry." This was spoken with a very -audible quaver. - -"You _would_, my lord, you _would_ be angry," rejoined the major, -"you'd _dance_ with fury this moment, if you _dared_. You could find it -in your heart to go into a passion with a _girl_; but talking with men -is a different sort of thing. Now, my lord, we are both here, with our -swords; no place can be more secluded, and, I presume, no two men more -willing. Pray draw, my lord, or I'll be apt to spoil your velvet and -gold lace." - -"Major O'Leary, I _will_ be heard!" exclaimed Lord Aspenly, with an -earnestness which the imminent peril of his person inspired--"I _must_ -have a word or two with you, before we put this dispute to so deadly an -arbitrament." - -The major had foreseen and keenly enjoyed the reluctance and the -evident tremors of his antagonist. He returned his half-drawn sword to -its scabbard with an impatient thrust, and, folding his arms, looked -down with supreme contempt upon the little peer. - -"Major O'Leary, you have been misinformed--Miss Ashwoode has mistaken -me. I assure you, I meant no disrespect--none in the world, I protest. -I may have spoken hastily--perhaps I did--but I never intended -disrespect--never for a moment." - -"Well, my lord, suppose that I admit that you did _not_ mean any -disrespect; and suppose that I distinctly assert that I have neither -right nor inclination just now to call you to an account for anything -you may have said, in your interview this morning, offensive to my -niece; I give you leave to suppose it, and, what's more, in supposing -it, I solemnly aver, you suppose neither more nor less than the exact -truth," said the major. - -"Well, then, Major O'Leary," replied Lord Aspenly, "I profess myself -wholly at a loss to understand your conduct. I presume, at all events, -that nothing further need pass between us about the matter." - -"Not so fast, my lord, if you please," rejoined the major; "a great -deal more must pass between us before I have done with your lordship; -although I cannot punish you for the past, I have a perfect right to -restrain you for the future. I have a proposal to make, to which I -expect your lordship's assent--a proposal which, under the -circumstances, I dare say, you will think, however unpleasant, by no -means unreasonable." - -"Pray state it," said Lord Aspenly, considerably reassured on finding -that the debate was beginning to take a diplomatic turn. - -"This is my proposal, then," replied the major: "you shall write a -letter to Sir Richard, renouncing all pretensions to his daughter's -hand, and taking upon yourself the whole responsibility of the measure, -without implicating _her_ directly or indirectly; do you mind: and you -shall leave this place, and go wherever you please, before supper-time -to-night. These are the conditions on which I will consent to spare -you, my lord, and upon no other shall you escape." - -"Why, what can you mean, Major O'Leary?" exclaimed the little coxcomb, -distractedly. "If I did any such thing, I should be run through by Sir -Richard or his rakehelly son; besides, I came here for a wife--my -friends know it; I _cannot_ consent to make a fool of myself. How -_dare_ you presume to propose such conditions to me?" - -The little gentleman as he wound up, had warmed so much, that he placed -his hand on the hilt of his sword. Without one word of commentary, the -major drew his, and with a nod of invitation, threw himself into an -attitude of defence, and resting the point of his weapon upon the -ground, awaited the attack of his adversary. Perhaps Lord Aspenly -regretted the precipitate valour which had prompted him to place his -hand on his sword-hilt, as much as he had ever regretted any act of his -whole life; it was, however, too late to recede, and with the hurried -manner of one who has made up his mind to a disagreeable thing, and -wishes it soon over, he drew his also, and their blades were instantly -crossed in mortal opposition. - - - - -CHAPTER XXV. - -THE COMBAT AND ITS ISSUE. - - -Lord Aspenly made one or two eager passes at his opponent, which were -parried with perfect ease and coolness; and before he had well -recovered his position from the last of those lunges, a single clanging -sweep of the major's sword, taking his adversary's blade from the point -to the hilt with irresistible force, sent his lordship's weapon -whirring through the air some eight or ten yards away. - -"Take your life, my lord," said the major, contemptuously; "I give it -to you freely, only wishing the present were more valuable. What do you -say _now_, my lord, to the terms?" - -"I say, sir--what do _I_ say?" echoed his lordship, not very -coherently. "Major O'Leary, you have disarmed me, sir, and you ask me -what I say to your terms. What do I say? Why, sir, I say again what I -said before, that I cannot and will not subscribe to them." - -Lord Aspenly, having thus delivered himself, looked half astonished and -half frightened at his own valour. - -"Everyone to his taste--your lordship has an uncommon inclination for -slaughter," observed the major coolly, walking to the spot where lay -the little gentleman's sword, raising it, and carelessly presenting it -to him: "take it, my lord, and use it more cautiously than you _have_ -done--defend yourself!" - -Little expecting another encounter, yet ashamed to decline it, his -lordship, with a trembling hand, grasped the weapon once more, and -again their blades were crossed in deadly combat. This time his -lordship prudently forbore to risk his safety by an impetuous attack -upon an adversary so cool and practised as the major, and of whose -skill he had just had so convincing a proof. Major O'Leary, therefore, -began the attack; and pressing his opponent with some slight feints and -passes, followed him closely as he retreated for some twenty yards, and -then, suddenly striking up to the point of his lordship's sword with -his own, he seized the little nobleman's right arm at the wrist with a -grasp like a vice, and once more held his life at his disposal. - -"Take your life for the second and the _last_ time," said the major, -having suffered the wretched little gentleman for a brief pause to -fully taste the bitterness of death; "mind, my lord, for the _last_ -time;" and so saying, he contemptuously flung his lordship from him by -the arm which he grasped. - -"Now, my lord, before we begin for the _last_ time, listen to me," said -the major, with a sternness, which commanded all the attention of the -affrighted peer; "I desire that you should _fully_ understand what I -propose. I would not like to kill you under a mistake--there is nothing -like a clear, mutual understanding during a quarrel. Such an -understanding being once established, bloodshed, if it unfortunately -occurs, can scarcely, even in the most scrupulous bosom, excite the -mildest regret. I wish, my lord, to have nothing whatever to reproach -myself with in the catastrophe which you appear to have resolved shall -overtake you; and, therefore, I'll state the whole case for your dying -consolation in as few words as possible. Don't be in a hurry, my lord, -I'll not detain you more than five minutes in this miserable world. -Now, my lord, you have two strong, indeed I may call them in every -sense _fatal_, objections to my proposal. The first is, that if you -write the letter I propose, you must fight Sir Richard and young Henry -Ashwoode. Now, I pledge myself, my soul, and honour, as a Christian, a -soldier, and a gentleman, that I will stand between you and them--that -_I_ will protect you completely from all responsibility upon that -score--and that if anyone is to fight with either of them, it shall not -be you. Your second objection is, that having been fool enough to tell -the world that you were coming here for a wife, you are ashamed to go -away without one. Now, without meaning to be offensive, I never heard -anything more idiotic in the whole course of my life. But if it _must_ -be so, and that you cannot go away without a wife, why the d----l don't -you ask Emily Copland--a fine girl with some thousands of pounds, I -believe, and at all events dying for love of you, as I am sure you see -yourself? You can't care for one more than the other, and why the deuce -need you trouble your head about their gossip, if anyone wonders at the -change? And now, my lord, mark me, I have said all that is to be said -in the way of commentary or observation upon my proposal, and I must -add a word or two about the consequences of finally rejecting it. I -have spared your life twice, my lord, within these five minutes. If you -refuse the accommodation I have proposed, I will a third time give you -an opportunity of disembarrassing yourself of the whole affair by -running me through the body--in which, if you fail, so sure as you are -this moment alive and breathing before me, you shall, at the end of the -next five, be a corpse. So help me God!" - -Major O'Leary paused, leaving Lord Aspenly in a state of confusion and -horror, scarcely short of distraction. - -There was no mistaking the major's manner, and the old _beau garcon_ -already felt in imagination the cold steel busy with his intestines. - -"But, Major O'Leary," said he, despairingly, "will you engage--can you -pledge yourself that no mischief shall follow from my withdrawing as -you say? not that I would care to avoid a duel when occasion required; -but no one likes to unnecessarily risk himself. Will you indeed prevent -all unpleasantness?" - -"Did I pledge my soul and honour that I would?" inquired the major -sternly. - -"Well, I am satisfied. I do agree," replied his lordship. "But is there -any occasion for me to remove _to-night_?" - -"Every occasion," replied the major, coolly. "You must come directly -with me, and write the letter--and this evening, before supper, you -must leave Morley Court. And, above all things, just remember this, let -there be no trickery or treachery in this matter. So sure as I see the -smallest symptom of anything of the kind, I will bring about such -another piece of work as has not been for many a long day. Am I fully -understood?" - -"Perfectly--perfectly, my dear sir," replied the nobleman. "Clearly -understood. And believe me, Major, when I say that nothing but the fact -that I myself, for private reasons, am not unwilling to break the -matter off, could have induced me to co-operate with you in this -business. Believe me, sir, otherwise I should have fought until one or -other of us had fallen to rise no more." - -"To be sure you would, my lord," rejoined the major, with edifying -gravity. "And in the meantime your lordship will much oblige me by -walking up to the house. There's pen and paper in Sir Richard's study; -and between us we can compose something worthy of the occasion. Now, my -lord, if you please." - -Thus, side by side, walked the two elderly gentlemen, like the very -best friends, towards the old house. And shrewd indeed would have been -that observer who could have gathered from the manner of either -(whatever their flushed faces and somewhat ruffled exterior might have -told), as with formal courtesy they threaded the trim arbours together, -that but a few minutes before each had sought the other's life. - - - - -CHAPTER XXVI. - -THE HELL--GORDON CHANCEY--LUCK--FRENZY AND A RESOLUTION. - - -The night which followed this day found young Henry Ashwoode, his purse -replenished with bank-notes, that day advanced by Craven, to the amount -of one thousand pounds, once more engaged in the delirious prosecution -of his favourite pursuit--gaming. In the neighbourhood of the theatre, -in that narrow street now known as Smock Alley, there stood in those -days a kind of coffee-house, rather of the better sort. From the -public-room, in which actors, politicians, officers, and occasionally a -member of parliament, or madcap Irish peer, chatted, lounged, and -sipped their sack or coffee--the initiated, or, in short, any man with -a good coat on his back and a few pounds in his pocket, on exchanging a -brief whisper with a singularly sleek-looking gentleman, who sate in -the prospective of the background, might find his way through a small, -baize-covered door in the back of the chamber, and through a lobby or -two, and thence upstairs into a suite of rooms, decently hung with -gilded leather, and well lighted with a profusion of wax candles, where -hazard and cards were played for stakes unlimited, except by the -fortunes and the credit of those who gamed. The ceaseless clang of the -dice-box and rattle of the dice upon the table, and the clamorous -challenging and taking of the odds upon the throwing, accompanied by -the ferocious blasphemies of desperate losers, who, with clenched hands -and distracted gestures, poured, unheeded, their frantic railings and -imprecations, as they, in unpitied agony, withdrew from the fatal -table; and now and then the scarcely less hideous interruptions of -brutal quarrels, accusations, and recriminations among the excited and -half-drunken gamblers, were the sounds which greeted the ear of him who -ascended toward this unhallowed scene. The rooms were crowded--the -atmosphere hot and stifling, and the company in birth and pretensions, -if not in outward attire, to the full as mixed and various as the -degrees of fortune, which scattered riches and ruin promiscuously among -them. In the midst of all this riotous uproar, several persons sate and -played at cards as if (as, perhaps, was really the case), perfectly -unconscious of the ceaseless hubbub going on around them. Here you -might see in one place the hare-brained young squire, scarcely three -months launched upon the road to ruin, snoring in drunken slumber, in -his deep-cushioned chair, with his cravat untied, and waistcoat -loosened, and his last cup of mulled sack upset upon the table beside -him, and streaming upon his velvet breeches and silken hose--while his -lightly-won bank notes, stuffed into the loose coat pocket, and peeping -temptingly from the aperture, invited the fingers of the first -_chevalier d'industrie_ who wished to help himself. In another place -you might behold two sharpers fulfilling the conditions of their -partnership, by wheedling a half-tipsy simpleton into a quiet game of -ombre. And again, elsewhere you might descry some bully captain, whose -occupation having ended with the Irish wars, indemnified himself as -best he might by such contributions as he could manage to levy from the -young and reckless in such haunts as this, busily and energetically -engaged in brow-beating a timid greenhorn, who has the presumption to -fancy that he has won something from the captain, which the captain has -forgotten to pay. In another place you may see, unheeded and unheeding, -the wretch who has played and lost his last stake; with white, -unmeaning face and idiotic grin, glaring upon the floor, thought and -feeling palsied, something worse, and more appalling than a maniac. - -The whole character of the assembly bespoke the recklessness and the -selfishness of its ingredients. There was, too, among them a certain -coarse and revolting disregard and defiance of the etiquettes and -conventional decencies of social life. More than half the men were -either drunk or tipsy; some had thrown off their coats and others wore -their hats; altogether the company had more the appearance of a band of -reckless rioters in a public street, than of an assembly of persons -professing to be gentlemen, and congregated in a drawing-room. - -By the fireplace in the first and by far the largest and most crowded -of the three drawing-rooms, there sate a person whose appearance was -somewhat remarkable. He was an ill-made fellow, with long, lank, limber -legs and arms, and an habitual lazy stoop. His face was sallow; his -mouth, heavy and sensual, was continually moistened with the brandy and -water which stood beside him upon a small spider-table, placed there -for his especial use. His eyes were long-cut, and seldom more than half -open, and carrying in their sleepy glitter a singular expression of -treachery and brute cunning. He wore his own lank and grizzled hair, -instead of a peruke, and sate before the fire with a drowsy inattention -to all that was passing in the room; and, except for the occasional -twinkle of his eye as it glanced from the corner of his half-closed -lids, he might have been believed to have been actually asleep. His -attitude was lounging and listless, and all his movements so languid -and heavy, that they seemed to be rather those of a somnambulist than -of a waking man. His dress had little pretension, and less neatness; it -was a suit of threadbare, mulberry-coloured cloth, with steel buttons, -and evidently but little acquainted with the clothes-brush. His linen -was soiled and crumpled, his shoes ill-cleaned, his beard had enjoyed -at least two days' undisturbed growth; and the dingy hue of his face -and hands bespoke altogether the extremest negligence and slovenliness -of person. - -This slovenly and ungainly being, who sate apparently unconscious of -the existence of any other earthly thing than the fire on which he -gazed, and the grog which from time to time he lazily sipped, was -Gordon Chancey, Esquire, of Skycopper Court, Whitefriar Street, in the -city of Dublin, barrister-at-law--a gentleman who had never been known -to do any professional business, but who managed, nevertheless, to -live, and to possess, somehow or other, the command of very -considerable sums of money, which he most advantageously invested by -discounting, at exorbitant interest, short bills and promissory notes -in such places as that in which he now sate--one of his favourite -resorts, by the way. At intervals of from five to ten minutes he slowly -drew from the vast pocket of his clumsy coat a bulky pocket-book, and -sleepily conned over certain memoranda with which its leaves were -charged--then having looked into its well-lined receptacles, to satisfy -himself that no miracle of legerdemain had abstracted the treasure on -which his heart was set, he once more fastened the buckle of the -leathern budget, and deposited it again in his pocket. This procedure, -and his attentions to the spirits and water, which from time to time he -swallowed, succeeded one another with a monotonous regularity -altogether undisturbed by the uproarious scene which surrounded him. - -As the night wore apace, and fortune played her wildest pranks, many an -applicant--some successfully, and some in vain--sought Chancey's -succour. - -"Come, my fine fellow, tip me a cool hundred," exclaimed a -fashionably-dressed young man, flushed with the combined excitement of -wine and the dice, and tapping Chancey on the back impatiently with his -knuckles--"this moment--will you, and be d----" - -"Oh, dear me, dear me, Captain Markham," drawled the barrister in a -low, drowsy tone, as he turned sleepily toward the speaker, "have you -lost the other hundred so soon? Oh, dear!--oh, dear!" - -"Never you mind, old fox. Shell out, if you're going to do it," -rejoined the applicant. "What is it to you?" - -"Oh, dear me, dear me!" murmured Chancey, as he languidly drew the -pocket-book from his pocket. "When shall I make it payable? To-morrow?" - -"D----n to-morrow," replied the captain. "I'll sleep all to-morrow. -Won't a fortnight do, you harpy?" - -"Well, well--sign--sign it here," said the usurer, handing the paper, -with a pen, to the young gentleman, and indicating with his finger the -spot where the name was to be written. - -The _roue_ wrote his name without ever reading the paper; and Chancey -carefully deposited it in his book. - -"The money--the money--d----n you, will you never give it!" exclaimed -the young man, actually stamping with impatience, as if every moment's -absence from the hazard-table cost him a fortune. "Give--give--_give_ -them." - -He seized the notes, and without counting, stuffed them into his -coat-pocket, and plunged in an instant again among the gamblers who -crowded the table. - -"Mr. Chancey--Mr. Chancey," said a slight young man, whose whole -appearance betokened a far progress in the wasting of a mortal decline. -His face was pale as death itself, and glittering with the cold, clammy -dew of weakness and excitement. The eye was bright, wild, and glassy; -and the features of this attenuated face trembled and worked in the -spasms of agonized anxiety and despair--with timid voice, and with the -fearful earnestness of one pleading for his life--with knees half bent, -and head stretched forward, while his thin fingers were clutched and -knotted together in restless feverishness. He still repeated at -intervals in low, supplicating accents--"Mr. Chancey--Mr. Chancey--can -you spare a moment, sir--Mr. Chancey, good sir--Mr. Chancey." - -For many minutes the worthy barrister gazed on apathetically into the -fire, as if wholly unconscious that this piteous spectacle was by his -side, and all but begging his attention. - -"Mr. Chancey, good sir--Mr. Chancey, kind sir--only one moment--one -word--Mr. Chancey." - -This time the wretched young man advanced one of his trembling hands, -and laid it hesitatingly upon Chancey's knee--the seat of mercy, as the -ancients thought; but truly here it was otherwise. The hand was -repulsed with insolent rudeness; and the wretched suppliant stood -trembling in silence before the bill-discounter, who looked upon him -with a scowl of brute ferocity, which the timid advances he had made -could hardly have warranted. - -"Well," growled Chancey, keeping his baleful eyes fixed not very -encouragingly upon the poor young man. - -"I have been unfortunate, sir--I have lost my last shilling--that is, -the last I have about me at present." - -"Well," repeated he. - -"I might win it all back," continued the suppliant, becoming more -voluble as he proceeded. "I might recover it _all_--it has often -happened to me before. Oh, sir, it is possible--_certain_, if I had but -a few pounds to play on." - -"Ay, the old story," rejoined Chancey. - -"Yes, sir, it is indeed--indeed it is, Mr. Chancey," said the young -man, eagerly, catching at this improvement upon his first laconic -address as an indication of some tendency to relent, and making, at the -same time, a most woeful attempt to look pleasant--"it is, sir--the old -story, indeed; but this time it will come out true--indeed it will. -Will you do one little note for me--a _little_ one--twenty pounds?" - -"No, I won't," drawled Chancey, imitating with coarse buffoonery the -intonation of the request--"I won't do a _little_ one for you." - -"Well, for ten pounds--for _ten_ only." - -"No, nor for ten pence," rejoined Chancey, tranquilly. - -"You may keep five out of it for the discount--for friendship--only let -me have five--just _five_," urged the wasted gambler, with an agony of -supplication. - -"No, I won't; _just five_," replied the lawyer. - -"I'll make it payable to-morrow," urged the suppliant. - -"Maybe you'll be dead before that," drawled Chancey, with a sneer; "the -life don't look very tough in you." - -"Ah! Mr. Chancey, dear sir--good Mr. Chancey," said the young man, "you -often told me you'd do me a friendly turn yet. Do not you remember -it?--when I was able to lend you money. For God's sake, lend me five -pounds now, or anything; I'll give you half my winnings. You'll save me -from beggary--ah, sir, for old friendship." - -Mr. Gordon Chancey seemed wondrously tickled by this appeal; he gazed -sleepily at the fire while he raked the embers with the toe of his -shoe, stuffed his hands deep into his breeches pockets, and indulged in -a sort of lazy, comfortable laughter, which lasted for several minutes, -until at length it subsided, leaving him again apparently unconscious -of the presence of his petitioner. Emboldened by the condescension of -his quondam friend, the young man made a piteous effort to join in the -laughter--an attempt, however, which was speedily interrupted by the -hollow cough of consumption. After a pause of a minute or two, during -which Chancey seemed to have forgotten his existence, he once more -addressed that gentleman,-- - -"Well, sir--well, Mr. Chancey?" - -The barrister turned full upon him with an expression of face not to be -mistaken, and in a tone just as unequivocal, he growled,-- - -"I'm d----d if I give you as much as a leaden penny. Be off; there's no -_begging_ allowed here--away with you, you blackguard." - -Having thus delivered himself, Chancey relapsed into his ordinary -dreamy quiet. - -Every muscle in the pale, wasted face of the ruined, dying gamester -quivered with fruitless agony; he opened his mouth to speak, but could -not; he gasped and sobbed, and then, clutching his lank hands over his -eyes and forehead as though he would fain have crushed his head to -pieces, he uttered one low cry of anguish, more despairing and -appalling than the loudest shriek of horror, and passed from the room -unnoticed. - -"Jeffries, can you lend me fifty or a hundred pounds till to-morrow?" -said young Ashwoode, addressing a middle-aged fop who had just reeled -in from an adjoining room. - -"_Cuss_ me, Ashwoode, if the thing is a possibility," replied he, with -a hiccough; "I have just been fairly cleaned out by Snarley and two or -three others--not one guinea left--confound them all. I've this moment -had to beg a crown to pay my chair and link-boy home; but Chancey is -here; I saw him not an hour ago in his old corner." - -"So he is, egad--thank you," and Ashwoode was instantly by the monied -man's side. "Chancey, I want a hundred and fifty--quickly, man, are you -awake?" and so saying, he shook the lawyer roughly by the shoulder. - -"Oh, dear! oh, dear!" exclaimed he, in his usual low, sleepy voice, -"it's Mr. Ashwoode, it is indeed--dear me, dear me; and can I oblige -you, Mr. Ashwoode?" - -"Yes; don't I tell you I want a hundred and fifty--or stay, two -hundred," said Ashwoode, impatiently. "I'll pay you in a week or -less--say to-morrow if you please it." - -"Whatever sum you like, Mr. Ashwoode," rejoined he--"whatever sum or -whatever date you please; I declare to God I'm uncommonly glad to do -it. Oh, dear, but them dice _is_ unruly. Two hundred, you say, and a--a -_week_ we'll say, not to be pressing. Well, well, this money has luck -in it, maybe. That's a long lane that has no turn--fortune changes -sides when it's least expected. Your name here, Mr. Ashwoode." - -The name was signed, the notes taken, and Ashwoode once more at the -table; but alack-a-day! fortune was for once steady, and frowned with -consistent obdurateness upon Henry Ashwoode. Five minutes had hardly -passed, when the two hundred pounds had made themselves wings and -followed the larger sums which he had already lost. Again he had -recourse to Chancey: again he found that gentleman smooth, gracious, -and obliging as he could have wished. Still his luck was adverse: as -fast as he drew the notes from his pocket, they were caught and whirled -away in the eddy of ruin. Once more from the accommodating barrister he -drew a larger sum,--still with a like result. So large and frequent -were his drafts, that Chancey was obliged to go away and replenish his -exhausted treasury; and still again and again, with a terrible monotony -of disaster, young Ashwoode continued to lose. - -At length the grey, cold light of morning streamed drearily through the -chinks of the window-shutters into the hot chamber of destruction and -debauchery. The sounds of daily business began to make themselves heard -from the streets. The wax lights were flaring in the sockets. The floor -strewn with packs of cards, broken glasses, and plates, and fragments -of fowls and bread, and a thousand other disgusting indications of -recent riot and debauchery which need not to be mentioned. Soiled and -jaded, with bloodshot eyes and haggard faces, the gamblers slunk, one -by one, in spiritless exhaustion, from the scene of their distracting -orgies, to rest the brain and refresh the body as best they might. - -With a stunning and indistinct sense of disaster and ruin; a vague, -fevered, dreamy remembrance of overwhelming calamity: a stupefying, -haunting consciousness that all the clatter, and roaring, and stifling -heat, and jostling, and angry words, and smooth, civil speeches of the -night past, had been, somehow or other, to him fraught with fearful and -tremendous agony, and delirium, and ruin--Ashwoode stalked into the -street, and mechanically proceeded to the inn where his horse was -stabled. - -The ostler saw, by the haggard, vacant stare with which Ashwoode -returned his salutation, that something had gone wrong, and, as he held -the stirrup for him, he arrived at the conclusion that the young -gentleman must have gotten at least a dozen duels upon his hands, to be -settled, one and all, before breakfast. - -The young man dashed the spurs into the high-mettled horse, and -traversing the streets at a perilous speed, without well thinking or -knowing whitherward he was proceeding, he found himself at length among -the wild lanes and brushwood of the Royal Park, and was recalled to -himself by finding his horse rearing and floundering up to his sides in -a slough. Having extricated the animal, he dismounted, threw his hat -beside him, and, kneeling down, bathed his head and face again and -again in the water of a little brook, which ran in many a devious -winding through the tangled briars and thorns. The cold, refreshing -ablution, assisted by the sharp air of the morning, soon brought him to -his recollection. - -"The fiend himself must have been by my elbow last night," he muttered, -as he stood bare-headed, in wild disorder, by the brook's side. "I've -lost before, and lost heavily too, but such a run, such an infernal -string of ruinous losses. First, a thousand pounds gone--swallowed up -in little more than an hour; and then the devil knows how much -more--curse me, if I can remember _how_ much I borrowed. I am over head -and ears in Chancey's books. How shall I face my father? and how, in -the fiend's name, am I to meet my engagements? Craven will hand me no -more of the money. Was I mad or drunk, to go on against such an -accursed tide of bad luck?--what fury from hell possessed me? I wish I -had thrust my hand between the bars, and burnt it to the elbow, before -I took the dice-box last night. What's to be done?"--he paused-- -"Yes--I _must_ do it--fate, destiny, circumstances drive me to it. I -_will_ marry the woman; she can't live very long--it's not likely; and -even if she does, what's that to me?--the world is wide enough for us -both, and once married, we need not plague one another much with our -society. I must see Chancey about those d----d bills or notes: curse -me, if I even know when they are payable. My brain swims like a sea. -Lady Stukely, Lady Stukely, you are a happy woman: it's an ill wind -that blows nobody good--I am resolved--my course is taken. First then -for Morley Court, and next for the wealthy widow's. I don't half like -the thing, but, d----n it, what other chance have I? Then away with -hesitation, away with thought; fate has ordained it." - -So saying, the young man donned his hat, caught the bridle of his -well-trained steed, vaulted into the saddle, and was soon far on his -way to Morley Court, where strange and startling tidings awaited his -arrival. - - - - -CHAPTER XXVII. - -THE DEPARTURE OF THE PEER--THE BILLET AND THE SHATTERED MIRROR. - - -Never yet did day pass more disagreeably to mortal man than that whose -early events we have recorded did to Lord Aspenly. His vanity and -importance had suffered more mortification within the last few hours -than he had ever before encountered in all the eight-and-sixty winters -of his previous useful existence. And spite of the major's assurances -to the contrary, he could not help feeling certain very unpleasant -misgivings, as the evening approached, touching the consequences likely -to follow to himself from his meditated retreat. - -He resolved by the major's advice to leave Morley Court without a -formal leave-taking, or, in short, any explanatory interview whatever -with Sir Richard. And for the purpose of taking his departure without -obstruction or annoyance, he determined that the hour of his setting -forth should be that at which the baronet was wont to retire for a time -to his dressing-room, previously to appearing at supper. The note which -was to announce his departure was written and sealed, and deposited in -his waistcoat pocket. He felt that it supplied but a very meagre -explanation of so decided a step as he was constrained to take; -nevertheless it was the only explanation he had to offer. He well knew -that its perusal would be followed by an explosion, and he not unwisely -thought it best, under all the circumstances, to withdraw to a -reasonable distance before springing the mine. - -The evening closed ominously in storm and cloud; the wind was hourly -rising, and distant mutterings of thunder bespoke a night of tempest. -Lord Aspenly had issued his orders with secrecy, and they were -punctually obeyed. At the hour indicated, his own and his servant's -horses were at the door. Lord Aspenly was crossing the hall, cloaked, -booted, and spurred for the road, when he encountered Emily Copland. - -"Dear me, my lord, can it be possible--surely you are not going to -leave us to-night?" - -"Indeed, it is but too true, fair lady," rejoined his lordship, with a -dolorous shrug. "An unlucky _contretemps_ requires my attendance in -town; my precipitate flight," he continued, with an attempt at a -playful smile, "is accounted for in this note, which perhaps you will -kindly deliver to Sir Richard, when next you see him. I trust, Miss -Copland, that fortune will often grant me the privilege of meeting you. -Be assured it is one which I prize above all others. Adieu." - -His lordship gallantly kissed the hand which was extended to receive -the note, and then, with his best bow, withdrew. - -A few petulant questions, which bespoke his inward acerbity, he -addressed to his servant--glanced with a very sour aspect at the -lowering sky--clambered stiffly into the saddle, and then, desiring his -attendant to follow him, rode down the avenue at a speed which seemed -prompted by an instinctive dread of pursuit. - -As the wind howled and the thunder rolled and rumbled nearer and -nearer, Emily Copland could not but wonder more and more what urgent -and peremptory cause could have induced the little peer to adopt this -sudden resolution, and to carry it into effect upon such a night of -storm. Surely that motive must be a strange and urgent one which would -not brook the delay of a few hours, especially during the violence of -such weather as the luxurious little nobleman had perhaps never -voluntarily encountered in the whole course of his life. Curiosity -prompted her to deliver the note which she held in her hand at once; -she therefore ran lightly upstairs, and rapidly threading all the -intervening lobbies and rambling passages, she knocked at her uncle's -door. - -"Come in, come in," cried the peevish voice of Sir Richard Ashwoode. - -The girl entered the room. The Italian was at the toilet, arranging his -master's dressing-case, and the baronet himself in his night-gown and -slippers, and with a pamphlet in his hand, reclined listlessly upon a -sofa. - -"Who is that?--who _is_ it?" inquired he in the same tone, without -turning his eyes from the volume which he read. - -"Per dina!" exclaimed the Neapolitan--"Mees Emily--she is vary seldom -come here. You are wailcome, Mees Emily; weel you seet down?--there is -chair. Sir Richard, it is Mees Emily." - -"What does the young lady want?" inquired he, drily. - -"I have gotten a note for you, uncle," replied she. - -"Well, put it down?--put it there on the table, anywhere; I presume it -will keep till morning," replied he, without removing his eyes from the -pages. - -"It is from Lord Aspenly," urged the girl. - -"Eh! Lord Aspenly. How--give it to me," said the baronet, raising -himself quickly and tossing the pamphlet aside. He broke the seal and -read the note. Whatever its contents were, they produced upon the -baronet an extraordinary effect; he started from the sofa with clenched -hands and frantic gesture. - -"Who--where--stop him, after him--he shall answer me--he shall!" cried, -or rather shrieked, the baronet in the hoarse, choking scream of fury. -"After him all--my sword, my horse. By ----, he'll reckon with me this -night." - -Never did the human form more fearfully embody the passions of hell; he -stood before them absolutely transformed. The quivering face was pale -as ashes; the livid veins, like blue knotted cordage, protruded upon -his forehead; the eye glared and rolled with the light of madness, and -as he shook and raved there before them, no dream ever conjured up a -spectacle more appalling; he spit upon the letter--he tore it into -fragments, and with his gouty feet stamped it into the fire. - -There was no extravagance of frenzy which he did not enact. He tossed -his arms into the air, and dashed his clenched hands upon the table; he -stamped, he stormed, he howled; and as with thick and furious utterance -he volleyed forth his incoherent threats, mandates, and curses, the -foam hung upon his blackened lips. - -"I'll bring him to the dust--to the earth. My very menials shall spurn -him. Almighty, that he should dare--trickster--liar--that he should -dare to practise upon _me_ this outrageous slight. Ay, ay--ay, -ay--laugh, my lord--laugh on; but by the ---- ----, this shall bring -you to your knees, ay, and to your grave; and you--_you_," thundered -he, turning upon the awe-struck and terrified young lady, "you no doubt -had _your_ share in this--ay, you have--you _have_--yes, I know -you--you--you--hollow, lying ----, quit my house--out with you--turn -her out--drive her out--away with her." - -As the horrible figure advanced towards her, the girl by an effort -roused herself from the dreadful fascination, and turning from him, -fled swiftly downstairs, and fell fainting at the parlour door. - -Sir Richard still strode through his chamber with the same frantic -evidences of unabated fury; and the Italian--the only remaining -spectator of the hideous scene--sate calmly in a chair by the toilet, -with his legs crossed, and his countenance composed into a kind of -sanctimonious placidity, which, however, spite of all his efforts, -betrayed at the corners of the mouth, and in the twinkle of the eye, a -certain enjoyment of the spectacle, which was not altogether consistent -with the perfect affection which he professed for his master. - -"Ay, ay, my lord," continued the baronet, madly, "laugh on--laugh while -you may; but by the ---- ----, you shall gnash your teeth for this!" - -"What coning, old gentleman is mi Lord Aspenly--ah! vary, vary," said -the Italian, reflectively. - -"You _shall_, my lord," continued Sir Richard, furiously. "Your -disgrace shall be public--exemplary--the insult shall recoil upon, -yourself--your punishment shall be memorable-public--tremendous." - -"Mi Lord Aspenly and Sir Richard--both so coning," continued the -Italian--"yees--yees--set one thief to catch the other." - -The Neapolitan had, no doubt, bargained for the indulgence of his -pleasant humour, as usual, free of cost; but he was mistaken. With the -quickness of light, Sir Richard grasped a massive glass decanter, full -of water, and hurled it at the head of his valet. Luckily for that -gentleman's brains, it missed its object, and, alighting upon a huge -mirror, it dashed it to fragments with a stunning crash. In the -extremity of his fury, Sir Richard grasped a heavy metal inkstand, and -just as the valet escaped through the private door of his room, hurled -_it_, too, at his head. Two such escapes were quite enough for Signor -Parucci on one evening; and not wishing to tempt his luck further, he -ran nimbly down the stairs, leaped into his own room, and bolted and -double-locked the door; and thence, as the night wore on, he still -heard Sir Richard pacing up and down his chamber, and storming and -raving in dreadful rivalry with the thunder and hurricane without. - - - - -CHAPTER XXVIII. - -THE THUNDER-STORM--THE EBONY STICK--THE UNSEEN VISITANT--TERROR. - - -At length the uproar in Sir Richard's room died away. The hoarse voice -in furious soliloquy, and the rapid tread as he paced the floor, were -no longer audible. In their stead was heard alone the stormy wind -rushing and yelling through the old trees, and at intervals the deep -volleying thunder. In the midst of this hubbub the Italian rubbed his -hands, tripped lightly up and down his room, placed his ear at the -keyhole, and chuckled and rubbed his hands again in a paroxysm of -glee--now and again venting his gratification in brief ejaculations of -intense delight--the very incarnation of the spirit of mischief. - -The sounds in Sir Richard's room had ceased for two hours or more; and -the piping wind and the deep-mouthed thunder still roared and rattled. -The Neapolitan was too much excited to slumber. He continued, -therefore, to pace the floor of his chamber--sometimes gazing through -his window upon the black stormy sky and the blue lightning, which -leaped in blinding flashes across its darkness, revealing for a moment -the ivied walls, and the tossing trees, and the fields and hills, which -were as instantaneously again swallowed in the blackness of the -tempestuous night; and then turning from the casement, he would plant -himself by the door, and listen with eager curiosity for any sound from -Sir Richard's room. - -As we have said before, several hours had passed, and all had long been -silent in the baronet's apartment, when on a sudden Parucci thought he -heard the sharp and well-known knocking of his patron's ebony stick -upon the floor. He ran and listened at his own door. The sound was -repeated with unequivocal and vehement distinctness, and was -instantaneously followed by a prolonged and violent peal from his -master's hand-bell. The summons was so sustained and vehement, that the -Italian at length cautiously withdrew the bolt, unlocked the door, and -stole out upon the lobby. So far from abating, the sound grew louder -and louder. On tip-toe he scaled the stairs, until he reached to about -the midway; and he there paused, for he heard his master's voice -exerted in a tone of terrified entreaty,-- - -"Not now--not now--avaunt--not now. Oh, God!--help," cried the -well-known voice. - -These words were followed by a crash, as of some heavy body springing -from the bed--then a rush upon the floor--then another crash. - -The voice was hushed; but in its stead the wild storm made a long and -plaintive moan, and the listener's heart turned cold. - -"_Malora_--_Corpo di Pluto!_" muttered he between his teeth. "What is -it? Will he reeng again? _Santo gennaro!_--there is something wrong." - -He paused in fearful curiosity; but the summons was not repeated. Five -minutes passed; and yet no sound but the howling and pealing of the -storm. Parucci, with a beating heart, ascended the stairs and knocked -at the door of his patron's chamber. No answer was returned. - -"Sir Richard, Sir Richard," cried the man, "do you want me, Sir -Richard?" - -Still no answer. He pushed open the door and entered. A candle, wasted -to the very socket, stood upon a table beside the huge hearse-like bed, -which, for the convenience of the invalid, had been removed from his -bed-chamber to his dressing-room. The light was dim, and waved -uncertainly in the eddies which found their way through the chinks of -the window, so that the lights and shadows flitted ambiguously across -the objects in the room. At the end of the bed a table had been upset; -and lying near it upon the floor was some-thing--a heap of bed-clothes, -or--could it be?--yes, it _was_ Sir Richard Ashwoode. - -Parncci approached the prostrate figure: it was lying upon its back, -the countenance fixed and livid, the eyes staring and glazed, and the -jaw fallen--he was a corpse. The Italian stooped down and took the hand -of the dead man--it was already cold; he called him by his name and -shook him, but all in vain. There lay the cunning intriguer, the -fierce, fiery prodigal, the impetuous, unrelenting tyrant, the -unbelieving, reckless man of the world, a ghastly lump of clay. - - [Illustration: "Parucci approached the prostate figure." - _To face page 156._] - -With strange emotions the Neapolitan gazed upon the lifeless effigy -from which the evil tenant had been so suddenly and fearfully called to -its eternal and unseen abode. - -"Gone--dead--all over--all past," muttered he, slowly, while he pressed -his foot upon the dead body, as if to satisfy himself that life was -indeed extinct--"quite gone. _Canchero!_ it was ugly death--there was -something with him; what was he speaking with?" - -Parucci walked to the door leading to the great staircase, but found it -bolted as usual. - -"Pshaw! there was nothing," said he, looking fearfully round the room -as he approached the body again, and repeating the negative as if to -reassure himself--"no, no--nothing, nothing." - -He gazed again on the awful spectacle in silence for several minutes. - -"_Corbezzoli_, and so it _is_ over," at length he ejaculated--"the game -is ended. See, see, the breast is bare, and there the two marks of -Aldini's stiletto. Ah! _briccone_, _briccone_, what wild faylow were -you--_panzanera_, for a pretty ankle and a pair of black eyes, you -would dare the devil. _Rotto di collo_, his face is moving!--pshaw! it -is only the light that wavers. _Diamine!_ the face is terrible. What -made him speak? nothing was with him--pshaw! nothing could come to him -here--no, no, nothing." - -As he thus spoke, the wind swept vehemently upon the windows with a -sound as if some great thing had rushed, against them, and was pressing -for admission, and the gust blew out the candle; the blast died away in -a lengthened wail, and then again came rushing and howling up to the -windows, as if the very prince of the powers of the air himself were -thundering at the casement; then again the blue dazzling lightning -glared into the room and gave place to deeper darkness. - -"Pah! that lightning smells like brimstone. _Sangue d'un dua_, I hear -something in the room." - -Yielding to his terrors, Parucci stumbled to the door opening upon the -great lobby, and with cold and trembling fingers drawing the bolt, -sprang to the stairs and shouted for assistance in a tone which -speedily assembled half the household in the chamber of death. - - - - -CHAPTER XXIX. - -THE CRONES--THE CORPSE, AND THE SHARPER. - - -Haggard, exhausted, and in no very pleasant temper, Henry Ashwoode rode -up the avenue of Morley Court. - -"I shall have a blessed conference with my father," thought he, "when -he learns the fate of the thousand pounds I was to have brought him--a -pleasant interview, by ----. How shall I open it? He'll be no better -than a Bedlamite. By ----, a pretty hot kettle of fish this--but -through it I must flounder as best I may--curse it, what am I afraid -of?" - -Thus muttering, he leaped from the saddle, leaving the well-trained -steed to make his way to the stable, and entered at the half open door. -In the hall he encountered a servant, but was too much occupied by his -own busy reflections to observe the earnest, awe-struck countenance of -the old domestic. - -"Mr. Henry--Mr. Henry--stay, sir--stay--one moment," said the man, -following and endeavouring to detain him. - -Ashwoode, however, without heeding the interruption, hastened by him, -and mounted the stairs with long and rapid strides, resolved not -unnecessarily to defer the interview which he believed must come sooner -or later. He opened Sir Richard's door, and entered the chamber. He -looked round the room for the object of his search in vain; but to his -unmeasured astonishment, beheld instead three old shrivelled hags -seated by the hearth, who all rose upon his entrance, except one, who -was warming something in a saucepan upon the fire, and each and all -resumed respectively the visages of woe which best became the occasion. - -"Eh! How is this? What brings you here, nurse?" exclaimed the young -man, in a tone of startled curiosity. - -The old lady whom he addressed thought it advisable to weep, and -instead of returning any answer, covered her face with her apron, -turned away her head, and shook her palsied hand towards him with a -gesture which was meant to express the mute anguish of unutterable -sorrow. - -"What _is_ it?" said Ashwoode. "Are you all tongue-tied? Speak, some of -you." - -"Oh, musha! musha! the crathur," observed the second witch, with a most -lugubrious shake of the head, "but it is _he_ that's to be pitied. Oh, -wisha--wisha--wiristhroo!" - -"What the d----l ails you? Can't you speak out? Where's my father?" -repeated the young man, with impatient perplexity. - -"With the blessed saints in glory," replied the third hag, giving the -saucepan a slight whisk to prevent the contents from burning, "and if -ever there was an angel on earth, _he_ was one. Well, well, he has his -reward--that's one comfort, sure. The crown of glory, with the holy -apostles--it's _he's_ to be envied--up in heaven, though he wint mighty -suddint, surely." - -This was followed by a kind of semi-dolorous shake of the head, in -which the three old women joined. - -With a hurried step, young Ashwoode strode to the bedside, drew the -curtain, and gazed upon the sharp and fixed features of the corpse, as -it leered with unclosed eyes from among the bed-clothes. It would not -have been easy to analyze the feelings with which he looked upon this -spectacle. A kind of incredulous horror sate upon his compressed -features. He touched the hand, which rested stiffly upon the coverlet, -as if doubtful that the old man, whom he had so long feared and obeyed, -was actually _dead_. The cold, dull touch that met his was not to be -mistaken, and he gazed fixedly with that awful curiosity with which in -death the well-known features of a familiar face are looked on. There -lay the being whose fierce passions had been to him from his earliest -days a source of habitual fear--in childhood, even of terror--henceforth -to be no more to him than a thing which had never been. There lay the -scheming, busy head, but what availed all its calculations and its -cunning now! No more thought or power has it than the cushion on which -it stiffly rests. There lies the proud, worldly, unforgiving, violent -man, a senseless effigy of cold clay--a grim, impassive monument of -the recent presence of the unearthly visitant. - -"It's a beautiful corpse, if the eyes were only shut," observed one of -the crones, approaching; "a purty corpse as ever was stretched." - -"The hands is very handsome entirely," observed another of them, "and -so small, like a lady's." - -"It's himself was the good master," observed the old nurse, with a slow -shake of the head; "the likes of him did not thread in shoe leather. -Oh! but my heart's sore for you this day, Misther Harry." - -Thus speaking, with a good deal of screwing and puckering, she -succeeded in squeezing a tear from one eye, like the last drop from an -exhausted lemon, and suffering it to rest upon her cheek, that it might -not escape observation, she looked round with a most pity-moving visage -upon her companions, and an expression of face which said as plainly as -words, "What a faithful, attached, old creature I am, and how well I -deserve any little token of regard which Sir Richard's will may have -bequeathed me." - -"Ah! then, look at him," said the matron of the saucepan, gazing with -the most touching commiseration upon Henry Ashwoode, "see how he looks -at it. Oh, but it's he that adored him! Oh, the crathur, what will he -do this day? Look at him there--he's an orphan now--God help him." - -"Be off with yourselves, and leave me here," said Henry (now Sir Henry) -Ashwoode, turning sharply upon them. "Send me some one that can speak a -word of sense: call Parucci here, and get out of the room every one of -you--away!" - -With abundance of muttering and grumbling, and many an indignant toss -of the head, and many a dignified sniff, the old women hobbled from the -room; and Henry Ashwoode had hardly been left alone, when the small -private door communicating with Parucci's apartment, opened, and the -valet peeped in. - -"Come in--come in, Jacopo," said the young man; "come in, and close the -door. When did this happen?" - -The Neapolitan recounted briefly the events which we have already -recorded. - -"It was a fit--some sudden seizure," said the young man, glancing at -the features of the corpse. - -"Yes, vary like, vary like," said Parucci; "he used to complain -sometimes that his head was sweeming round, and pains and aches; but -there was something more--something more." - -"What do you mean?--don't speak riddles," said Ashwoode. - -"I mean this, then," replied the Italian; "something came to -him--something was in the room when he died." - -"How do you know that?" inquired the young man. - -"I heard him talking loudly with it," replied he--"talking and praying -it to go away from him." - -"Why did you not come into the room yourself?" asked Ashwoode. - -"So I did, _Diamine_, so I did," replied he. - -"Well, what saw you?" - -"Nothing bote Sir Richard, dead--quite dead; and the far door was -bolted inside, just so as he always used to do; and when the candle -went out, the thing was here again. I heard it myself, as sure as I am -leeving man--I heard it--close up with me--by the body." - -"Tut, tut, man; speak sense. Do you mean to say that anyone talked with -you?" said Ashwoode. - -"I mean this, that something was in the chamber with me beside the dead -man," replied the valet, doggedly. "I heard it with my own ears. -_Zucche!_ I moste 'av been deaf, if I did not hear it. It said 'hish,' -and then again, close up to my face, it said it--'hish, hish,' and -laughed below its breath. Pah! the place smelt of brimstone." - -"In plain terms, then, you believe that the devil was in the room; is -that it?" said Ashwoode, with a ghastly smile of contempt. - -"Oh! no," replied the servant, with a sneer as ghastly; "it was an -angel, of course--an angel from heaven." - -"No more of this folly, sirrah," said Ashwoode, sharply. "Your own -d----d cowardice fills your brain with these fancies. Here, give me the -keys, and show me where the papers are laid. I shall first examine the -cabinets here, and then in the library. Now open this one; and do you -hear, Parucci, not one word of this cock-and-bull story of yours to the -servants. Good God! my brain's unsettled. I can scarcely believe my -father dead--dead," and again he stood by the bedside, and looked upon -the still face of the corpse. - -"We must send for Craven at once," said Ashwoode, turning from the bed; -"I must confer with him; he knows better than anyone else how all my -father's affairs stand. There are some d----d bills out, I believe, but -we'll soon know." - -Having despatched an urgent note to Craven, the insinuating attorney, -to whom we have already introduced the reader, Sir Henry Ashwoode -proceeded roughly to examine the contents of boxes, escritoires, and -cabinets filled with dusty papers, and accompanied and directed in his -search by the Italian. - -"You never heard him mention a will, did you?" inquired the young man. - -The Neapolitan shook his head. - -"You did not know of his making one?" he resumed. - -"No, no, I cannot remember," said the Italian, reflectively; "but," he -added quickly, while a peculiar meaning lit up the piercing eyes which -he turned upon the interrogator--"but do you weesh to _find_ one? Maybe -I could help you to find one." - -"Pshaw! folly; what do you take me for?" retorted Ashwoode, slightly -colouring, in spite of his habitual insensibility, for Parucci was too -intimate with his principles for him to assume ignorance of his -meaning. "Why the devil should I wish to find a will, since I inherit -everything without it?" - -"Signor," said the little man, after an interval of silence, during -which he seemed absorbed in deep reflection, "I have moche to say about -what I shall do with myself, and some things to ask from you. I will -begin and end it here and now--it is best over at once. I have served -Sir Richard there for thirty-four years. I have served him well--vary -well. I have taught him great secrets. I have won great abundance of -good moneys for him; if he was not reech it is not my fault. I attend -him through his sickness; and 'av been his companion for the half of a -long life. What else I 'av done for him I need not count up, but most -of it you know well. Sir Richard is there--dead and gone--the service -is ended, and now I 'av resolved I will go back again to Italy--to -Naples--where I was born. You shall never hear of me any more if you -will do for me one little thing." - -"What is it?--speak out. You want to extort money--is it so?" said -Ashwoode, slowly and sternly. - -"I want," continued the man, with equal distinctness and -deliberateness, "I want one thousand pounds. I do not ask a penny more, -and I will not take a penny less; and if you give me that, I will never -trouble you more with word of mine--you will never hear or see honest -Jacopo Parucci any more." - -"Come, come, Jacopo, that were paying a little too dear, even for such -a luxury," replied Ashwoode. "A thousand pounds! Ha! ha! A modest -request, truly. I half suspect your brain is a little crazed." - -"Remember what I have done--all I have done for him." rejoined the -Italian, coolly. "And above all, remember what I have _not_ done for -him. I could have had him hanged up by the neck--hanged like a dog--but -I never did. Oh! no, never--though not a day went by that I might not -'av brought the house full of officers, and have him away to jail and -get him hanged. Remember all that, signor, and say is it in conscience -too moche?--_rotta di collo!_ It is not half--no, nor quarter so moche -as I ought to ask. No, nor as you ought to give, signor, without me to -ask at all." - -"Parucci, you are either mad or drunk, or take me to be so," said -Ashwoode, who could not feel quite comfortable in disputing the claims -of the Italian, nor secure in provoking his anger. "But at all events, -there is ample time to talk about these matters. We can settle it all -more at our ease in a week or so." - -"No, no, signor. I will have my answer now," replied the man, doggedly. -"Mr. Craven has money now--the money of Miss Mary's land that Sir -Richard got from her. But though the money is there _now_, in a week or -leetle more we will not see moche of it, and my pocket weel remain -aimpty--_corbezzoli!_ am I a fool?" - -"I tell you, Parucci, I will give you no promises now," exclaimed the -young man, vehemently. "Why, d---- it, the blood is hardly cold in the -old man's veins, and you begin to pester me for money. Can't you wait -till he's buried?" - -"Ay--yees--yees--wait till he's buried--and then wait till the -mourning's off--and then wait for something more," said the Neapolitan, -with a sneer, "and so wait on till the money's all spent. No, no, -signor--_corpo di Bacco!_ I will have it now. I will have my answer -now, before Mr. Craven comes--_giuro di Dio_, I _will_ have my answer." - -"Don't talk like a madman, Parucci," replied the young man, angrily. "I -have no money here. I will make no promises. And besides, your request -is perfectly ridiculous and unconscionable." - -"I ask for a thousand pounds," replied the valet. "I must have the -promise _now_, signor, and the money to-day. If you do not promise it -here and at once, I will not ask again, and maybe you weel be sorry. I -will take one thousand pounds. I want no more, and I accept no less. -Signor, your answer." - -There was a cool, menacing insolence in the manner of the fellow which -stung the pride of the young baronet to the quick. - -"Scoundrel," said he, "do you think I am to be bullied by your -audacious threats? Do you dream that I am weak enough to suffer a -wretch like you to practise his extortions upon me? By ----, you'll -find to your cost that you have no longer to deal with a master who is -in your power. What care I for your utmost? Do your worst, miscreant--I -defy you. I warn you only to beware of giving an undue license to your -foul, lying tongue--for if I find that you have been spreading your -libellous tales abroad, I'll have you pilloried and whipped." - -"Well, you 'av given me an answer," replied the Italian coolly. "I weel -ask no more; and now, signor, farewell--adieu. I think, perhaps, you -will hear of me again. I will not return here any more after I go out; -and so, for the last time," he continued, approaching the cold form -which lay upon the bed, "farewell to you, Sir Richard Ashwoode. While I -am alive I will never see your face again--perhaps, if holy friars tell -true, we may meet again. Till then--till then--farewell." - -With this strange speech the Neapolitan, having gazed for a brief -space, with a strange expression, in which was a dash of something very -nearly approaching to sorrow, upon the stern, moveless face before him, -and then with an effort, and one long-drawn sigh, having turned away, -deliberately withdrew from the room through the small door which led to -his own apartment. - -"The lazzarone will come to himself in a little," muttered Ashwoode; -"he will think twice before he leaves this place--he'll cool--he'll -cool." - -Thus soliloquizing, the young man locked up the presses and desks which -he had opened, bolted the door after the Italian, and hurried from the -room; for, somehow or other, he felt uneasy and fearful alone in the -chamber with the body. - - - - -CHAPTER XXX. - -SKY-COPPER COURT. - - -Upon the evening of the same day, the Italian having collected together -the few movables which he called his own, and left them ready for -removal in the chamber which he had for so long exclusively occupied, -might have been seen, emerging from the old manor-house, and with a -small parcel in his hand, wending his solitary, moon-lit way across the -broad wooded pasture-lands of Morley Court. Without turning to look -back upon the familiar scene, which he was now for ever leaving--for -all his faculties and feelings, such as they were, had busy occupation -in the measures of revenge which he was keenly pursuing, he crossed the -little stile which terminated the pathway he was following, and -descended upon the public road--shaking from his hat and cloak the -heavy drops, which in his progress the close underwood through which he -brushed had shed upon him. With a quickened pace, and with a stern, -almost a savage countenance, over which from time to time there flitted -a still more ominous smile, and muttering between his teeth many a -short and vehement apostrophe as he went, he held his way directly -toward the city of Dublin; and once within the streets, he was not long -in reaching the ancient, and by this time to the reader, familiar -mansion, over whose portal swung the glittering sign of the "Cock and -Anchor." - -"Now, then," thought Parucci, "let us see whether I have not one card -left, and that a trump. What, because I wear no sword myself, shall you -escape unpunished? Fool--miscreant, I will this night conjure up such -an avenger as will appal even you; I will send him with a thousand -atrocious wrongs upon his head, frantic into your presence--you had -better cope with an actual incarnate demon." - -Such were the exulting thoughts which lighted the features of Parucci -with a fitful smile of singular grimness as he entered the inn yard, -where meeting one of the waiters, he promptly inquired for O'Connor. To -his dismay, however, he learnt that that gentleman had quitted the -"Cock and Anchor" on the day before, and whither he had gone, none -could inform him. As he stood, pondering in bitter disappointment what -step was next to be taken, somebody tapped his shoulder smartly from -behind. He turned, and beheld the square form and swarthy features of -O'Hanlon, whose interview with O'Connor is recorded early in these -pages. After a few brief questions and answers, in which, by a -reference to the portly proprietor of the "Cock and Anchor," who -vouched for the accuracy of his representations, O'Hanlon satisfied the -vindictive foreigner that he might safely communicate the subject of -his intended communication to _him_, as to the sure friend of Mr. -O'Connor. Both personages, Parucci and O'Hanlon--or, as he was there -called, Dwyer--repaired to a private room, where they remained closeted -for fully half an hour. That interview had its consequences--consequences -of which sooner or later the reader shall fully hear, and which were -perhaps somewhat unlike those calculated upon by honest Jacopo. - -It is not necessary to detain the reader with a description of the -ceremonial which conducted the mortal remains of Sir Henry Ashwoode to -the grave. It is enough to say that if pomp and pageantry, lavished -upon the fleeting tenement of clay which it has deserted, can delight -the departed spirit, that of the deceased baronet was happy. The -funeral was an aristocratic procession, well worthy of the rank and -pretensions of the distinguished dead, and in numbers and _eclat_ such -as to satisfy even the exactions of Irish pride. - -Carriages and four were there in abundance, and others of lesser note -without number. Outriders, and footmen, and corpulent coachmen filled -the court and avenue of the manor, and crowded its hall, where -refreshments enough for a garrison were heaped together upon the -tables. The funeral feasting and revelry finished, the enormous mob of -coaches, horses, and lacqueys began to arrange itself, and assume -something like order. The great velvet-covered coffin was carried out -upon the shoulders of six footmen, staggering under the leaden load, -and was laid in the hearse. The high-born company, dressed in the -fantastic trappings of mourning, began to show themselves one by one, -or in groups, at the hall-door, and took their places in their -respective vehicles; and at length the enormous volume began to uncoil, -and gradually passing down the great avenue, and winding along the -road, to proceed toward the city, covering from the coffin to the last -carriage a space of more than a mile in length. - -The body was laid in the aisle of St. Audoen's Church, and a comely -monument, recording in eloquent periods the virtues of the deceased, -was reared by the piety of his son. The aisle, however, in which it -stood, is now a rootless ruin; and this, along with many a more curious -relic, has crumbled into dust from its time-worn wall: so that there -now remains, except in these idle pages, no record to tell posterity -that so important a personage as Sir Richard Ashwoode ever existed at -all. - -Of all who donned "the customary suit of solemn black" upon the death -of Sir Richard Ashwoode, but one human being felt a pang of sorrow. But -there _was_ one whose grief was real and poignant--one who mourned for -him as though he had been all that was fond and tender--who forgot and -forgave all his faults and failings, and remembered only that he had -been her father and she his child, and companion, and gentle, patient -nurse-tender through many an hour of pain and sickness. Mary wept for -his death bitterly for many a day and night; for all that he had ever -done or said to give her pain, her noble nature found entire -forgiveness, and every look, and smile, and word, and tone that had -ever borne the semblance of kindness, were all treasured in her memory, -and all called up again in affectionate and sorrowful review. Seldom -indeed had the hard nature of Sir Richard evinced even such transient -indications of tenderness, and when they did appear they were still -more rarely genuine. But Mary felt that an object of her kindly care -and companionship was gone--a familiar face for ever hidden--one of the -only two who were near to her in the ties of blood, departed to return -no more, and with all the deep, strong yearnings of kindred, she wept -and mourned after her father. - -Emily Copland had left Morley Court and was now residing with her gay -relative, Lady Stukely, so that poor Mary was left almost entirely -alone, and her brother, Sir Henry, was so immersed in business and -papers that she scarcely saw him even for a moment except while he -swallowed his hasty meals; and sooth to say, his thoughts were not much -oftener with her than his person. - -Though, as the reader is no doubt fully aware, Sir Henry's grief for -the loss of his parent was by no means of that violent kind which -refuses to be comforted, yet he was too chary of the world's opinion, -as well as too punctilious an observer of etiquette, to make the -cheerfulness of his resignation under this dispensation startlingly -apparent by any overt act of levity or indifference. Sir Henry, -however, must see Gordon Chancey; he must ascertain how much he owes -him, and when it is all payable--facts of which he has, if any, the -very dimmest and vaguest possible recollection. Therefore, upon the -very day on which the funeral had taken place, as soon as the evening -had closed, and darkness succeeded the twilight, the young baronet -ordered his trusty servant to bring the horses to the door, and then -muffling himself in his cloak, and drawing it about his face, so that -even in the reflection of an accidental link he might not by -possibility be recognized, he threw himself into the saddle, and -telling his servant to follow him, rode rapidly through the dense -obscurity towards the town. - -When he had reached Whitefriar Street, he checked his pace to a walk, -and calling his attendant to his side, directed him to await his return -there; then dismounting, he threw him the bridle, and proceeded upon -his way. Guided by the hazy starlight and by an occasional gleam from a -shop-window or tavern-door, as well as by the dusky glimmer of the -wretched street lamps, the young man directed his course for some way -along the open street, and then turning to the right into a dark -archway which opened from it, he found himself in a small, square -court, surrounded by tall, dingy, half-ruinous houses which loomed -darkly around, deepening the shadows of the night into impenetrable -gloom. From some of these dilapidated tenements issued smothered sounds -of quarrelling, indistinctly mingled with the crying of children and -the shrill accents of angry females; from others the sounds of -discordant singing and riotous carousal; while, as far as the eye could -discern, few places could have been conceived with an aspect more -dreary, forbidding, and cut-throat, and, in all respects, more -depressing and suspicious. - -"This is unquestionably the place," exclaimed Ashwoode, as he stepped -cautiously over the broken pavement; "there is scarcely another like it -in this town or any other; but beshrew me if I remember which is the -house." - -He entered one of them, the hall-door of which stood half open, and -through the chinks of whose parlour-door were issuing faint streams of -light and gruff sounds of talking. At one of these doors he knocked -sharply with his whip-handle, and instantly the voices were hushed. -After a silence of a minute or two, the parties inside resumed their -conversation, and Ashwoode more impatiently repeated his summons. - -"There _is_ someone knocking--I tould you there was," exclaimed a harsh -voice from within. "Open the doore, Corny, and take a squint." - -The door opened cautiously; a great head, covered with shaggy -elf-locks, was thrust through the aperture, and a singularly -ill-looking face, as well as the imperfect light would allow Ashwoode -to judge, was advanced towards his. The fellow just opened the door far -enough to suffer the ray of the candle to fall upon the countenance of -his visitant, and staring suspiciously into his face for some time, -while he held the lock of the door in his hand, he asked,-- - -"Well, neighbour, did you rap at this doore?" - -"Yes, I want to be directed to Mr. Chancey's rooms." replied Ashwoode. - -"Misthur who?" repeated the man. - -"Mr. Chancey--_Chancey_: he lives in this court, and, unless I am -mistaken, in this house, or the next to it," rejoined Ashwoode. - -"_Chancey_: I don't know him," answered the man. "Do _you_ know where -Mr. Chancey lives, Garvey?" - -"Not I, nor don't care," rejoined the person addressed, with a hoarse -growl, and without taking the trouble to turn from the fire, over which -he was cowering, with his back toward the door. "Slap the _doore_ to, -can't you? and don't keep gostherin' there all night." - -"No, he won't slap the doore," exclaimed the shrill voice of a female. -"I'll see the gentleman myself. Well, sir," she cried, presenting a -tall, raw-boned figure, arrayed in tawdry rags, at the door, and -shoving the man with the unkempt locks aside, she eyed Ashwoode with a -leer and a grin that were anything but inviting--"well, sir, is there -anything I can do for you. The chaps here is not used to quality, an' -Pather has a mighty ignorant manner; but they are placible boys, an' -manes no offence. Who is it you're lookin' for, sir?" - -"Mr. Gordon Chancey: he lives in one of these houses. Can you direct me -to him?" - -"No, we can't," said the fellow from the fire, in a savage tone. "I -tould you before. Won't you _take_ your answer--won't you? Slap that -_doore_, Corny, or I'll get up to him myself." - -"Hould your tongue, you gaol bird, won't you?" rejoined the female, in -accents of shrill displeasure. "_Chancey!_ is not he the counsellor -gentleman; he has a yallow face an' a down look, and never has his -hands out of his breeches' pockets?" - -"The very man," replied Ashwoode. - -"Well, sir, _he does_ live in this court: he has the parlour next -doore. The street _doore_ stands open--it's a lodging-house. One doore -further on; you can't miss him." - -"Thank you, thank you," said Ashwoode. "Good-night." And as the door -was closed upon him, he heard the voices of those within raised in hot -debate. - -He stumbled and groped his way into the hall of the house which the -gracious nymph, to whom he had just bidden farewell, indicated, and -knocked stoutly at the parlour-door. It was opened by a sluttish girl, -with bare feet, and a black eye, which had reached the green and yellow -stage of recovery. She had probably been interrupted in the midst of a -spirited altercation with the barrister, for ill humour and excitement -were unequivocally glowing in her face. - -Ashwoode walked in, and found matters as we shall describe them in the -next chapter. - - - - -CHAPTER XXXI. - -THE USURER AND THE OAKEN BOX. - - -The room which Sir Henry Ashwoode entered was one of squalid disorder. -It was a large apartment, originally handsomely wainscoted, but damp -and vermin had made woeful havoc in the broad panels, and the ceiling -was covered with green and black blotches of mildew. No carpet covered -the bare boards, which were strewn with fragments of papers, rags, -splinters of an old chest, which had been partially broken up to light -the fire, and occasionally a potato-skin, a bone, or an old shoe. The -furniture was scant, and no one piece matched the other. Little and bad -as it was, its distribution about the room was more comfortless and -wretched still. All was dreary disorder, dust, and dirt, and damp, and -mildew, and rat-holes. - -By a large grate, scarcely half filled with a pile of ashes and a few -fragments of smouldering turf, sat Gordon Chancey, the master of this -notable establishment; his arm rested upon a dirty deal table, and his -fingers played listlessly with a dull and battered pewter goblet, which -he had just replenished from a two-quart measure of strong beer which -stood upon the table, and whose contents had dabbled that piece of -furniture with sundry mimic lakes and rivers. Unrestrained by the -ungenerous confinement of a fender, the cinders strayed over the -cracked hearthstone, and even wandered to the boards beyond it. Mr. -Gordon Chancey was himself, too, rather in deshabille. He had thrown -off his shoes, and was in his stockings, which were unfortunately -rather imperfect at the extremities. His waistcoat was unbuttoned, and -his cravat lay upon the table, swimming in a sea of beer. As Ashwoode -entered, with ill-suppressed disgust, this loathly den, the object of -his visit languidly turned his head and his sleepy eyes over his -shoulder, in the direction of the door, and without making the smallest -effort to rise, contented himself with extending his hand along the -sloppy table, palm upwards, for Ashwoode to shake, at the same time -exclaiming, with a drawl of gentle placidity,-- - -"Oh, dear--oh, dear me! Mr. Ashwoode, I declare to God I am very glad -to see you. Won't you sit down and have some beer? Eliza, bring a cup -for my friend, Mr. Ashwoode. Will you take a pipe too? I have some -elegant tobacco. Bring _my_ pipe to Mr. Ashwoode, and the little -canister that M'Quirk left here last night." - -"I am much obliged to you," said Ashwoode, with difficulty swallowing -his anger, and speaking with marked _hauteur_, "my visit, though an -unseasonable one, is entirely one of business. I shall not give you the -trouble of providing any refreshment for me; in a word, I have neither -time nor appetite for it. I want to learn exactly how you and I stand: -five minutes will show me the state of the account." - -"Oh, dear--oh, dear! and won't you take any beer, then? it's elegant -beer, from Mr. M'Gin's there, round the corner." - -Ashwoode bit his lips, and remained silent. - -"Eliza, bring a chair for my friend, Sir Henry Ashwoode," continued -Chancey; "he must be very tired--indeed he must, after his long walk; -and here, Eliza, take the key and open the press, and do you see, bring -me the little oak box on the second shelf. She's a very good little -girl, Mr. Ashwoode, I assure you. Eliza is a very sensible, good little -girl. Oh, dear!--oh, dear! but your father's death was very sudden; but -old chaps always goes off that way, on short notice. Oh, dear me!--I -declare to ----, only I had a pain in my--(here he mentioned his lower -stomach somewhat abruptly)--I'd have gone to the funeral this morning. -There was a great lot of coaches, wasn't there?" - -"Pray, Mr. Chancey," said Ashwoode, preserving his temper with an -effort, "let us proceed at once to business. I am pressed for time, and -I shall be glad, with as little delay as possible, to ascertain--what I -suppose there can be no difficulty in learning--the exact state of our -account." - -"Well, I'm very sorry, so I am, Mr. Ashwoode, that you are in such a -hurry--I declare to ---- I am," observed Chancey, supplying big goblet -afresh from the larger measure. "Eliza, have you the box? Well, bring -it here, and put it down on the table, like an elegant little girl." - -The girl shoved a small oaken chest over to Chancey's elbow; and he -forthwith proceeded to unlock it, and to draw forth the identical red -leather pocket-book which had received in its pages the records of -Ashwoode's disasters upon the evening of their last meeting. - -"Here I have them. Captain Markham--no, that is not it," said Chancey, -sleepily turning over the leaves; "but this is it, Mr. Ashwoode--ay, -here; first, two hundred pounds, promissory note--payable one week -after date. Mr. Ashwoode, again, one hundred and fifty--promissory -note--one week. Lord Kilblatters--no--ay, here again--Mr. Ashwoode, two -hundred--promissory note--one week. Mr. Ashwoode, two hundred and -fifty--promissory note--one week. Mr. Ashwoode, one hundred; Mr. -Ashwoode, fifty. Oh, dear me! dear me! Mr. Ashwoode, three hundred." -And so on, till it appeared that Sir Henry Ashwoode stood indebted to -Gordon Chancey, Esq., in the sum of six thousand four hundred and fifty -pounds, for which he had passed promissory notes which would all become -due in two days' time. - -"I suppose," said Ashwoode, "these notes have hardly been negotiated. -Eh?" - -"Oh, dear me! No--oh, no, Mr. Ashwoode," replied Chancey. "They have -not gone out of my desk. I would not put them into the hands of a -stranger for any trifling advantage to myself. Oh, dear me! not at -all." - -"Well, then, I suppose you can renew them for a fortnight or so, or -hold them over--eh?" asked Ashwoode. - -"I'm sure I can," rejoined Chancey. "The bills belong to the old -cripple that lent the money; and _he_ does whatever I bid him. He -trusts it all to me. He gives me the trouble, and takes the profit -himself. Oh! he _does_ confide in me. I have only to say the word, and -it's done. They shall be renewed or held over as often as you wish. -Indeed, I can answer for it. Dear me, it would be very hard if I could -not." - -"Well, then, Mr. Chancey," replied Ashwoode, "I may require it, or I -may not. Craven has the promise of a large sum of money, within two or -three days--part of the loan he has already gotten. Will you favour me -with a call on to-morrow afternoon at Morley Court. I will then have -heard definitely from Craven, and can tell you whether I require time -or not." - -"Very good, sir--very fair, indeed, Mr. Ashwoode. Nothing fairer," -rejoined the lawyer. "But don't give yourself any uneasiness. Oh, dear, -on no account; for I declare to ---- I would hold them over as long as -you like. Oh, dear me--indeed but I would. Well, then, I'll call out at -about four o'clock." - -"Very good, Mr. Chancey," replied Ashwoode. "I shall expect you. -Meanwhile, good-night." So they separated. - -The young baronet reached his ancestral dwelling without adventure of -any kind, and Mr. Gordon Chancey poured out the last drops of beer from -the inverted can into his pewter cup, and draining it calmly, anon -buttoned his waistcoat, shook the wet from his cravat, and tied it on, -thrust his feet into his shoes, and flinging his cocked hat carelessly -upon his head, walked forth in deep thought into the street, whistling -a concerto of his own invention. - - - - -CHAPTER XXXII. - -THE DIABOLIC WHISPER. - - -Gordon Chancey sauntered in his usual lazy, lounging way, with his -hands in his pockets, down the street. After a listless walk of -half-an-hour he found himself at the door of a handsome house, in the -immediate neighbourhood of the Castle. He knocked, and was admitted by -a servant in full livery. - -"Is he in the same room?" inquired Chancey. - -"Yes, sir," replied the man; and without further parley, the learned -counsel proceeded upstairs, and knocked at the drawing-room door, -which, without waiting for any answer, he forthwith opened. - -Nicholas Blarden--with two ugly black plaisters across his face, his -arm in a sling, and his countenance bearing in abundance the livid -marks of his late rencounter--stood with his back to the fire-place; a -table, blazing with wax-lights, and stored with glittering wine-flasks -and other matters, was placed at a little distance before him. As the -man of law entered the room, the countenance of the invalid relaxed -into an ugly grin of welcome. - -"Well, Gordy, boy, how goes the game? Out with your news, old -rat-catcher," said Blarden, in high good humour. - -"Dear me, dear me! but the night is mighty chill, Mr. Blarden," -observed Chancey, filling a glass of wine to the brim, and sipping it -uninvited. "News," he continued, letting himself drop into a -chair--"news; well, there's not much stirring worth telling you." - -"Come, what _is_ it? You're not come here for nothing, old fox," -rejoined Blarden, "I know by the ---- twinkle in the corner of your -eye." - -"Well, _he_ has been with me, just now," drawled Chancey. - -"Ashwoode?" - -"Yes." - -"Well! what does he want--what does he want, eh?" asked Blarden, with -intense excitement. - -"He says he'll want time for the notes," replied Chancey. - -"God be thanked!" ejaculated Blarden, and followed this ejaculation -with a ferocious burst of laughter. "We'll have him, Chancey, boy, if -only we know how to play him--by ----, we'll have him, as sure as -there's heat in hell." - -"Well, maybe we will," rejoined Chancey. - -"Does he say he can't pay them on the day?" asked Blarden, exultingly. - -"No; he says _maybe_ he can't," replied the jackal. - -"That's all one," cried Blarden. "What do you think? Do you think he -can?" - -"I think maybe he can, if we _squeeze_ him," replied Chancey. - -"Then _don't_ squeeze him--he must not get out of our books on any -terms--we'll lose him if he does," said Nicholas. - -"We'll not renew the notes, but hold them over," said Chancey. "He must -not feel them till he _can't_ pay them. We'll make them sit light on -him till then--give him plenty of line for a while--rope enough and a -little patience--and the devil himself can't keep him out of the -noose." - -"You're right--you _are_, Gordy, boy," rejoined Blarden. "Let him get -through the ready money first--eh?--and then into the stone jug with -him--we'll just choose our own time for striking." - -"I tell you what it is, if you are just said and led by me, you'll have -a _quare_ hold on him before three months are past and gone," said -Chancey, lazily--"mind I tell you, you will." - -"Well, Gordy, boy, fill again--fill again--here's success to you." - -Chancey filled, and quaffed his bumper, with, a matter-of-fact, -business-like air. - -"And do you mind me, boy," continued Blarden, "spare _nothing_ in this -business--bring Ashwoode entirely under my knuckle--and, by ----, I'll -make it a great job for you." - -"Indeed--indeed but I will, Mr. Blarden, if I can," rejoined Chancey; -"and I _think_ I can--I think I know a way, so I do, to get a _halter_ -round his neck--do you mind?--and leave the rope's end in your hand, to -hang him or not, as you like." - -"To _hang_ him!" echoed Blarden, like one who hears something too good -to be true. - -"Yes, to hang him by the neck till he's dead--dead--dead," repeated -Chancey, imperturbably. - -"How the blazes will you do it?" demanded the wretch, anxiously. "Pish, -it's all prate and vapour." - -Gordon Chancey stole a suspicious glance round the room from the corner -of his eye, and then suffering his gaze to rest sleepily upon the fire -once more, he stretched out one of his lank arms, and after a little -uncertain groping, succeeding in grasping the collar of his companion's -coat, and drawing his head down toward him. Blarden knew Mr. Chancey's -way, and without a word, lowered his ear to that gentleman's mouth, who -forthwith whispered something into it which produced a marked effect -upon Mr. Blarden. - -"If you do _that_," replied he with ferocious exultation, "by ----, -I'll make your fortune for you at a slap." - -And so saving, he struck his hand with heavy emphasis upon the -barrister's shoulder, like a man who clenches a bargain. - -"Well, Mr. Blarden," replied Chancey, in the same drowsy tone, "as I -said before, I declare it's my opinion I can, so it is--I think I can." - -"And so do _I_ think you can--by ----, I'm _sure_ of it," exclaimed -Blarden triumphantly; "but take some more--more wine, won't you? take -some more, and stay a bit, can't you?" - -Chancey had made his way to the door with his usual drowsy gait; and, -passing out without deigning any answer or word of farewell, stumbled -lazily downstairs. There was nothing odd, however, in this -leave-taking; it was Chancey's way. - -"We'll do it, and easily too," muttered Blarden with a grin of -exultation. "I never knew him fail--that fellow is worth a mine. Ho! -ho! Sir Henry, beware--beware. Egad, you had better keep a bright -look-out. It's rather late for green goslings to look to their necks, -when the fox claps his nose in the poultry-yard." - - - - -CHAPTER XXXIII. - -SHOWING HOW SIR HENRY ASHWOODE PLAYED AND PLOTTED--AND OF THE SUDDEN -SUMMONS OF GORDON CHANCEY. - - -Henry Ashwoode was but too anxious to avail himself of the indulgence -offered by Gordon Chancey. With the immediate urgency of distress, any -thoughts of prudence or retrenchment which may have crossed his mind -vanished, and along with the command of new resources came new wants -and still more extravagant prodigality. His passion for gaming was now -indulged without restraint, and almost without the interruption of a -day. For a time his fortune rallied, and sums, whose amount would -startle credulity, flowed into his hands, only to be lost and -squandered again in dissipation and extravagance, which grew but the -wilder and more reckless, in proportion as the sources which supplied -them were temporarily increased. At length, after some coquetting, the -giddy goddess again deserted him. Night after night brought new and -heavier disasters; and with this reverse of fortune came its invariable -accompaniment--a wilder and more daring recklessness, and a more -unmeasured prodigality in hazarding larger and larger sums; as if the -victims of ill luck sought, by this frantic defiance, to bully and -browbeat their capricious persecutor into subjection. There was -scarcely an available security of any kind which he had not already -turned into money, and now he began to feel, in downright earnest, the -iron gripe of ruin closing upon him. - -He was changed--in spirit and in aspect changed. The unwearied fire of -a secret fever preyed upon his heart and brain; an untold horror robbed -him of his rest, and haunted him night and day. - -"Brother," said Mary Ashwoode, throwing one hand fondly round his neck, -and with the other pressing his, as he sate moodily, with compressed -lips and haggard face, and eyes fixed upon the floor, in the old -parlour of Morley Court--"dear brother, you are greatly changed; you -are ill; some great trouble weighs upon your mind. Why will you keep -all your cares and griefs from me? I would try to comfort you, whatever -your sorrows may be. Then let me know it all, dear brother; why should -your griefs be hidden from me? Are there not now but the two of us in -the wide world to care for each other?" and as she said this her eyes -filled with tears. - -"You would know what grieves me?" said Ashwoode, after a short silence, -and gazing fixedly in her face, with stern, dilated eyes, and pale -features. He remained again silent for a time, and then uttered the -emphatic word--"_Ruin._" - -"How, dear brother, what has befallen you?" asked the poor girl, -pressing her brother's hand more kindly. - -"I say, we are ruined--both of us. I've lost everything. We are little -better than beggars," replied he. "There's nothing I can call my own," -he resumed, abruptly, after a pause, "but that old place, Incharden. -It's worth next to nothing--bog, rocks, brushwood, old stables, and -all--absolutely nothing. We are ruined--beggared--that's all." - -"Oh! brother, I am glad we have still that dear old place. Oh, let us -go down and live there together, among the quiet glens, and the old -green woods; for amongst its pleasant shades I have known happier times -than shall ever come again for me. I would like to ramble there again -in the pleasant summer time, and hear the birds sing, and the sound of -the rustling leaves, and the clear winding brook, as I used to hear -them long ago. _There_ I could think over many things, that it breaks -my heart to think of here; and you and I, brother, would be always -together, and we would soon be as happy as either of us can be in this -sorrowful world." - -She threw her arms around her brother's neck, and while the tears -flowed fast and silently, she kissed his pale and wasted cheeks again -and again. - -"In the meantime," said Ashwoode, starting up abruptly, and looking at his -watch, "I must go into town, and see some of these harpies--usurers--that -have gotten their fangs in me. It is as well to keep out of jail as long -as one can," and, with a very joyless laugh, he strode from the room. - -As he rode into town, his thoughts again and again recurred to his old -scheme respecting Lady Stukely. - -"It is after all my only chance," said he. "I have made my mind up -fifty times to it, but somehow or other, d----n me, if I could ever -bring myself to _do_ it. That woman will live for five-and-twenty years -to come, and she would as easily part with the control of her property -as with her life. While she lives I must be her dependent--her slave: -there is no use in mincing the matter, I shall not have the command of -a shilling, but as she pleases; but patience--patience, Henry Ashwoode, -sooner or later death _will_ come, and then begins your jubilee." - -As these thoughts hurried through his brain, he checked his horse at -Lady Betty Stukely's door. - -As he traversed the capacious hall, and ascended the handsome -staircase--"Well," thought he, "even _with_ her ladyship, this were -better than the jail." - -In the drawing-room he found Lady Stukely, Emily Copland, and Lord -Aspenly. The two latter evidently deep in a very desperate flirtation, -and her ladyship meanwhile very considerately employed in trying a -piece of music on the spinet. - -The entrance of Sir Henry produced a very manifest sensation among the -little party. Lady Stukely looked charmingly conscious and fluttered. -Emily Copland smiled a gracious welcome, for though she and her -handsome cousin perfectly well understood each other, and both well -knew that marriage was out of the question, they had each, what is -called, a fancy for the other; and Emily, with the unreasonable -jealousy of a woman, felt a kind of soreness, secretly and almost -unacknowledged to herself, at Sir Henry's marked devotion to Lady -Stukely, though, at the same time, no feeling of her own heart, beyond -the lightest and the merest vanity, had ever been engaged in favour of -Henry Ashwoode. Of the whole party, Lord Aspenly alone was a good deal -disconcerted, and no wonder, for he had not the smallest notion upon -what kind of terms he and Henry Ashwoode were to meet;--whether that -young gentleman would shake hands with him as usual, or proceed to -throttle him on the spot. Ashwoode was, however, too completely a man -of the world to make any unnecessary fuss about the awkward affair of -Morley Court; he therefore met the little nobleman with cold and easy -politeness; and, turning from him, was soon engaged in an animated and -somewhat tender colloquy with the love-stricken widow, whose last words -to him, as at length he arose to take his leave, were,-- - -"Remember to-morrow evening, Sir Henry, we shall look for you early; -and you have promised not to disappoint your cousin Emily--has not he, -Emily? I shall positively be affronted with you for a week at least if -you are late. I am very absolute, and never forgive an act of -rebellion. I'm quite a little sovereign here, and very despotic; so you -had better not venture to be naughty." - -Here she raised her finger, and shook it in playful menace at her -admirer. - -Lady Stukely had, however, little reason to doubt his punctuality. If -she had but known the true state of the case she would have been aware -that in literal matter-of-fact she had become as necessary to Sir Henry -Ashwoode as his daily bread. - -Accordingly, next evening Sir Henry Ashwoode was one of the gayest of -the guests in Lady Stukely's drawing-rooms. His resolution was taken; -and he now looked round upon the splendid rooms and all their rich -furniture as already his own. Some chatted, some played cards, some -danced the courtly minuet, and some hovered about from group to group, -without any determinate occupation, and sharing by turns in the -frivolities of all. Ashwoode was, of course, devoted exclusively to his -fair hostess. She was all smiles, and sighs, and bashful coyness; he -all tenderness and fire. In short, he felt that all he wanted at that -moment was the opportunity of asking, to ensure his instantaneous -acceptance. While thus agreeably employed, the young baronet was -interrupted by a footman, who, with a solemn bow, presented a silver -salver, on which was placed an exceedingly dirty and crumpled little -note. Ashwoode instantly recognized the hand in which the address was -written, and snatching the filthy billet from its conspicuous position, -he thrust it into his waistcoat pocket. - -"A messenger, sir, waits for an answer," murmured the servant. - -"Where is he?" - -"He waits in the hall, sir." - -"Then I shall see him in a moment--tell him so," said Ashwoode; and -turning to Lady Stukely, he spoke a few sweet words of gallantry, and -with a forced smile, and casting a longing, lingering look behind, he -glided from the room. - -"So, what can this mean?" muttered he, as he placed himself immediately -under a cluster of lights in the lobby, and hastily drew forth the -crumpled note. He read as follows:-- - - "MY DEAR SIR HENRY,--There is bad news--as bad as can be. Wherever - you are, and whatever you are doing, come on receipt of these, on - the moment, to me. If you don't, you'll be done for to-morrow; so - come at once. Bobby M'Quirk will hand you these, and if you follow - him, will bring you where I am now. I am desirous to serve you, and - if the art of man can do it, to keep you out of this pickle. - - "Your obedient, humble servant, - - "GORDON CHANCEY." - - "N.B.--It is about these infernal notes, so come quickly." - -Through this production did Ashwoode glance with no very enviable -feelings; and tearing the note into the very smallest possible pieces, -he ran downstairs to the hall, where he found the aristocratic Mr. -M'Quirk, with his chin as high as ever, marching up and down with a -free and easy swagger, and one arm akimbo, and whistling the while an -air of martial defiance. - -"Did you bring a note to me just now?" inquired Ashwoode. - -"I have had that pleasure," replied M'Quirk, with an aristocratic air. -"I presume I am addressed by Sir Henry Ashwoode, baronet. _I_ am Mr. -M'Quirk--Mr. Robert M'Quirk. Sir Henry, I kiss your hands--proud of the -honour of your acquaintance." - -"Is Mr. Chancey at his own lodging now?" inquired Ashwoode, without -appearing to hear the speeches which M'Quirk thought proper to deliver. - -"Why, no," replied the little gentleman. "Our friend Chancey is just -now swigging his pot of beer, and smoking his pen'orth of pigtail in -the "Old Saint Columbkil," in Ship Street--a comfortable house, Sir -Henry, as any in Dublin, and very cheap--cheap as dirt, sir. A Welsh -rarebit, one penny; a black pudding, and neat cut of bread, and three -leeks, for--how much do you guess?" - -"Have the goodness to conduct me to Mr. Chancey, wherever he is," said -Ashwoode drily. "I will follow--go on, sir." - -"Well, Sir Henry, I'm your man--I'm your man--glad of your company, Sir -Henry," exclaimed the insinuating Bobby M'Quirk; and following his -voluble conductor in obstinate silence, Sir Henry Ashwoode found -himself, after a dark and sloppy walk, for the first, though not for -the last time in his life, under the roof tree of the "Old Saint -Columbkil." - - - - -CHAPTER XXXIV. - -THE "OLD ST. COLUMBKIL"--A TETE-A-TETE IN THE "ROYAL RAM"--THE TEMPTER. - - -The "Old Saint Columbkil" was a sort of low sporting tavern frequented -chiefly by horse-jockeys, cock-fighters, and dog-fanciers; it had its -cock-pits, and its badger-baits, and an unpretending little "hell" of -its own; and, in short, was deficient in none of the attractions most -potent in alluring such company as it was intended to receive. - -As Ashwoode, preceded by his agreeable companion, made his way into the -low-roofed and irregular chamber, his senses were assailed by the thick -fumes of tobacco, the reek of spirits, and the heavy steams of the hot -dainties which ministered to the refined palates of the patrons of the -"Old Saint Columbkil;" and through the hazy atmosphere, seated at a -table by himself, and lighted by a solitary tallow candle with a -portentous snuff, and canopied in the clouds of tobacco smoke which he -himself emitted, Gordon Chancey was dimly discernible. - -"Ah! dear me, dear me. I'm right glad to see you--I declare to ----, I -am, Mr. Ashwoode," said that eminent barrister, when the young -gentleman had reached his side. "Indeed, I was thinking it was maybe -too late to see you to-night, and that things would have to go on. Oh, -dear me, but it's a regular Providence, so it is. You'd have been up in -lavender to-morrow, as sure as eggs is eggs. I'm gladder than a crown -piece, upon my soul, I am." - -"Don't talk of business here; cannot we have some place to ourselves -for five minutes, out of this stifling pig-sty. I can't bear the place; -besides, we shall be overheard," urged Ashwoode. - -"Well, and that's very true," assented Chancey, gently, "very true, so -it is; we'll get a small room above. You'll have to pay an extra -sixpenny bit for it though, but what signifies the matter of that? -M'Quirk, ask old Pottles if 'Noah's Ark' is empty--either that or the -'Royal Ram'--run, Bobby." - -"I have something else to do, Mr. Chancey," replied Mr. M'Quirk, with -_hauteur_. - -"Run, Bobby, run, man," repeated Chancey, tranquilly. - -"Run yourself," retorted M'Quirk, rebelliously. - -Chancey looked at him for a moment to ascertain by his visible aspect -whether he had actually uttered the audacious suggestion, and reading -in the red face of the little gentleman nothing but the most refractory -dispositions, he said with a low, dogged emphasis which experience had -long taught Mr. M'Quirk to respect,-- - -"Are you at your tricks again? D---- you, you blackguard, if you stand -prating there another minute, I'll open your head with this pot--be -off, you scoundrel." - -The learned counsel enforced his eloquence by knocking the pewter pot -with an emphatic clang upon the table. - -All the aristocratic blood of the M'Quirks mounted to the face of the -gentleman thus addressed; he suffered the noble inundation, however, to -subside, and after some hesitation, and one long look of unutterable -contempt, which Chancey bore with wonderful stoicism, he yielded to -prudential considerations, as he had often done before, and proceeded -to execute his orders. - -The effect was instantaneous--Pottles himself appeared. A short, stout, -asthmatic man was Pottles, bearing in his thoughtful countenance an -ennobling consciousness that human society would feel it hard to go on -without him, and carrying in his hand a soiled napkin, or rather clout, -with which he wiped everything that came in his way, his own forehead -and nose included. - -With pompous step and wheezy respiration did Pottles conduct his -honoured guests up the creaking stairs and into the "Royal Ram." He -raked the embers in the fire-place, threw on a piece of turf, and -planting the candle which he carried upon a table covered with slop and -pipe ashes, he wiped the candlestick, and then his own mouth carefully -with his dingy napkin, and asked the gentlemen whether they desired -anything for supper. - -"No, no, we want nothing but to be left to ourselves for ten or fifteen -minutes," said Ashwoode, placing a piece of money upon the table. "Take -this for the use of the room, and leave us." - -The landlord bowed and pocketed the coin, wheezed and bowed again, and -then waddled magnificently out of the room. Ashwoode got up and closed -the door after him, and then returning, drew his chair opposite to -Chancey's, and in a low tone asked,-- - -"Well, what is all this about?" - -"All about them notes, nothing else," replied Chancey, calmly. - -"Go on--what of them?" urged Ashwoode. - -"Can you pay them all to-morrow morning?" inquired Chancey, tranquilly. - -"To-morrow!" exclaimed Ashwoode. "Why, hell and death, man, you -promised to hold them over for three months. To-morrow! By ----, you -must be joking," and as he spoke his face turned pale as ashes. - -"I told you all along, Mr. Ashwoode," said Chancey drowsily, "that the -money was not my own; I'm nothing more than an agent in the matter, and -the notes are in the desk of that old bed-ridden cripple that lent it. -D----n him, he's as full of fumes and fancies as old cheese is of -maggots. He has taken it into his head that your paper is not safe, and -the devil himself won't beat it out of him; and the long and the short -of it is, Mr. Ashwoode, he's going to arrest you to-morrow." - -In vain Ashwoode strove to hide his agitation--he shook like a man in -an ague. - -"Good heavens! and is there no way of preventing this? Make him wait -for a week--for a day," said Ashwoode. - -"Was not I speaking to him ten times to-day--ay, twenty times," replied -Chancey, "trying to make him wait even for one day? Why, I'm hoarse -talking to him, and I might just as well be speaking to Patrick's -tower; so make your mind up to this. As sure as light, you'll be in -gaol before to-morrow's past, unless you either settle it early some -way or other, or take leg bail for it." - -"See, Chancey, I may as well tell you this," said Ashwoode, "before a -fortnight, perhaps before a week, I shall have the means of satisfying -these damned notes beyond the possibility of failure. Won't he hold -them over for so long?" - -"I might as well be asking him to cut out his tongue and give it to me -as to allow us even a day; he has heard of different accidents that has -happened to some of your paper lately--and the long and the short of it -is--he won't hear of it, nor hold them over one hour more than he can -help. I declare to ----, Mr. Ashwoode, I am very sorry for your -distress, so I am--but you say you'll have the money in a week?" - -"Ay, ay, ay, so I shall, _if_ he don't arrest me," replied Ashwoode; -"but if he does, my perdition's sealed; I shall lie in gaol till I rot; -but, curse it, can't the idiot see this?--if he waits a week or so -he'll get his money--every penny back again--but if he won't have -patience, he loses every sixpence to all eternity." - -"You might as well be arguing with an iron box as think to change that -old chap by talk, when he once gets a thing into his head," rejoined -Chancey. Ashwoode walked wildly up and down the dingy, squalid -apartment, exhibiting in his aristocratic form and face, and in the -rich and elegant suit, flashing even in the dim light of that solitary, -unsnuffed candle, with gold lace and jewelled buttons, and with cravat -and ruffles fluttering with rich point lace, a strange and startling -contrast to the slovenly and deserted scene of low debauchery which -surrounded him. - -"Chancey," said he, suddenly stopping and grasping the shoulder of the -sleepy barrister with a fierceness and energy which made him -start--"Chancey, rouse yourself, d---- you. Do you hear? Is there _no_ -way of averting this awful ruin--_is_ there none?" - -As he spoke, Ashwoode held the shoulder of the fellow with a gripe like -that of a vice, and stooping over him, glared in his face with the -aspect of a maniac. - -The lawyer, though by no means of a very excitable temperament, was -startled at the horrible expression which encountered his gaze, and -sate silently looking into his victim's face with a kind of -fascination. - -"Well," said Chancey, turning away his head with an effort--"there's -but one way I can think of." - -"What is it? Do you know anyone that _will_ take my note at a short -date? For God's sake, man, speak out at once, or my brain will turn. -What is it?" said Ashwoode. - -"Why, Mr. Ashwoode, to be plain with you," rejoined Chancey, "I do not -know a soul in Dublin that would discount for you to one-fourth of the -amount you require--but there is another way." - -"In the fiend's name, out with it, then," said Ashwoode, shaking him -fiercely by the shoulder. - -"Well, then, get Mr. Craven to join you in a bond for the amount," said -Chancey, "with a warrant of attorney to confess judgment." - -"Craven! Why, he knows as well as you do how I am dipped. He'd just as -readily thrust his hand into the fire," replied Ashwoode. "Is that your -hopeful scheme?" - -"Why, Mr. Craven might not do so well, after all," said Chancey, -meditatively, and without appearing to hear what the young baronet -said. "Oh! dear, dear, no, he would not do. Old Money-bags knows -him--no, no, that would not do." - -"Can your d----d scheming brain plot no invention to help me? In the -devil's name, where are your wits? Chancey, if you get me out of this -accursed fix, I'll make a man of you." - -"I got a whole lot of bills done for you once by the very same old -gentleman," continued Chancey, "and d----n heavy bills they were too, -but they had Mr. Nicholas Blarden's name across them; would not he lend -it again, if you told him how you stand? If you can come by the money -in a month or so, you may be sure he'll do it." - -"Better and better! Why, Blarden would ask no better fun than to see me -ruined, dead, and damned," rejoined Ashwoode, bitterly. "Cudgel your -brains for another bright thought." - -"Oh! dear me, dear me," said the barrister mildly, "I thought you were -the best of friends. Well, well, it's hard to know. But are you sure he -don't like you?" - -"It's odd if he does," said Ashwoode, "seeing it's scarce a month since -I trounced him almost to death in the theatre. Blarden, indeed!" - -"Well, Mr. Ashwoode, sit down here for a minute, and I'll say all I -have to say; and if you like it, well and good; and if not, there's no -harm done, and things must only take their course. Are you quite sure -of having the means within a month of taking up the notes?" - -"As sure as I am that I see you before me," replied he. - -"Well, then, get Mr. Blarden's name along with your own to your joint -and several bond--the old chap won't have anything more to do with -bills--so, do you mind, your joint and several bond, with warrant of -attorney to confess judgment--and I'll stake my life, he'll take it as -ready as so much cash, the instant I show it to him," said the lawyer -quietly. - -"Are you dreaming or drunk? Have not I told you twenty times over that -Blarden would cut his throat first?" retorted Ashwoode, passionately. - -"Why," said Chancey, fixing his cunning eyes, with a peculiar meaning, -upon the young man, and speaking with a lowered voice and marked -deliberateness, "perhaps if Mr. Blarden knew that his name was wanted -only to satisfy the whim of a fanciful old hunks--if he knew that -judgment should never be entered--if he knew that the bond should never -go outside a strong iron box, under an old bedridden cripple's bed--if -he knew that no questions should be asked as to how he came to write -his name at the foot of it--and if he knew that no mortal should ever -see it until you paid it long before the day it was due--and if he was -quite aware that the whole transaction should be considered so strictly -confidential, that even to _himself_--do you mind--no allusion should -be made to it;--don't you think, in such a case, you could, by some -means or other, manage to get his--_name_?" - -They continued to gaze fixedly at one another in silence, until, at -length, Ashwoode's countenance lighted into a strange, unearthly smile. - -"I see what you mean, Chancey--is it so?" said he, in a voice so low, -as scarcely to be audible. - -"Well, maybe you do," said the barrister, in a tone nearly as low, and -returning the young man's smile with one to the full as sinister. Thus -they remained without speaking for many minutes. - -"There's no danger in it," said Chancey, after a long pause; "I would -not take a part in it if there was. You can pay it eleven months before -it's due. It's a thing I have _known_ done a hundred times over, -without risk; here there _can_ be none. I do _all_ his business myself. -I tell you, that for anything that any living mortal but you and me and -the old badger himself will ever hear, or see, or know of the matter, -the bond might as well be burnt to dust in the back of the fire. I -declare to ---- it's the plain truth I'm telling you--Sir Henry--so it -is." - -There followed another silence of some minutes. At length Ashwoode -said, "I'd rather use any name but Blarden's, if it _must_ be done." - -"What does it matter whose name is on it, if there is no one but -ourselves to read it?" replied Chancey. "I say Blarden's is the best, -because he accepted bills for you before, which were discounted by the -same old codger; and again, because the old fellow knows that the money -was wanted to satisfy gambling debts, and Blarden would seem a very -natural party in a gaming transaction. Blarden's _is_ the name for us. -And, for myself, all I ask is fifty pounds for my share in the -trouble." - -"When must you have the bond?" asked Ashwoode. - -"Set about it _now_," said Chancey; "or stay, your hand shakes too -much, and for both our sakes it must be done neatly; so say to-morrow -morning, early. I'll see the old gentleman to-night, and have the -overdue notes to hand you in the morning. I think that's doing -business." - -"I would not do it--I'd rather blow my brains out--if there was a -single chance of his entering judgment on the bond, or talking of it," -said Ashwoode, in great agitation. - -"A _chance_!" said the barrister. "I tell you there's not a -_possibility_. I manage all his money matters, and I'd burn that bond, -before it should see the outside of his strong box. Why, d----n! do you -think I'd let myself be ruined for fifty pounds? You don't know Gordon -Chancey, indeed you don't, Mr. Ashwoode." - -"Well, Chancey, I'll see you early to-morrow morning," said Ashwoode; -"but are you very--_very_ sure--is there no chance--no _possibility_ -of--of mischief?" - -"I tell you, Mr. Ashwoode," replied Chancey, "unless I chose to betray -_myself_, you can't come by harm. As I told you before, I'm not such a -fool as to ruin myself. Rely on me, Mr. Ashwoode--rely on me. Do you -believe what I say?" - -Ashwoode walked slowly up to him, and fixing his eyes upon the -barrister, with a glance which made Chancey's heart turn chill within -him,-- - -"Yes, Mr. Chancey," he said, "you may be sure I believe you; for if I -did _not_--so help me, God!--you should not quit this room--alive." - -He eyed the caitiff for some minutes in silence, and then returning the -sword, which he had partially drawn, to its scabbard, he abruptly -wished him good-night, and left the room. - - - - -CHAPTER XXXV. - -OF THE COUSIN AND THE BLACK CABINET--AND OF HENRY ASHWOODE'S DECISIVE -INTERVIEW WITH LADY STUKELY. - - -"Well, then," said Ashwoode, a few days after the occurrences which -have just been faithfully recorded, "it behoves me without loss of time -to make provision for this infernal bond; until I see it burned to -dust, I feel as if I stood in the dock. This sha'n't last long--my -stars be thanked, one door of escape lies open to me, and through it I -will pass; the sun shall not go down upon my uncertainty. To be sure, I -shall be--but curse it, it can't be helped now; and let them laugh, and -quiz, and sneer as they please, two-thirds of them would be but too -glad to marry Lady Stukely with half her fortune, were she twice as old -and twice as ugly--if, indeed, either were possible. Pshaw! the laugh -will subside in a week, and in the style in which I shall open, curse -me, if half the world won't lie at my feet. Give me but -money--money--plenty of money, and though I be a paragon of absurdity -and vice, the whole town will vote me a Solomon and a saint; so let's -have no more shivering by the brink, but plunge boldly in at once and -have it over." - -Fortified with these reflections, Sir Henry Ashwoode vaulted lightly -into his saddle, and putting his horse into an easy canter, he found -himself speedily at Lady Stukely's house in Stephen's Green. His -servant held the rein and he dismounted, and, having obtained -admission, summoned all his resolution, lightly mounted the stairs, and -entered the handsome drawing-room. Lady Stukely was not there, but his -cousin, Emily Copland, received him. - -"Lady Betty is not visible, then?" inquired he, after a little chat -upon indifferent subjects. - -"I believe she is out shopping--indeed, you may be very certain she is -not at home," replied Emily, with a malicious smile; "her ladyship is -always visible to you. Now confess, have you ever had much cruelty or -coldness to complain of at dear Lady Stukely's hands?" - -Ashwoode laughed, and perhaps for a moment appeared a little -disconcerted. - -"I _do_ admit, then, as you insist on placing me in the confessional, -that I have always found Lady Betty as kind and polite as I could have -expected or hoped," rejoined Ashwoode, assuming a grave and -particularly proper air; "I were particularly ungrateful if I said -otherwise." - -"Oh, ho! so her ladyship has actually succeeded in inspiring my -platonic cousin with gratitude," continued Emily, in the same tone, -"and gratitude we all know is Cupid's best disguise. Alas, and -alack-a-day, to what vile uses may we come at last--alas, my poor coz." - -"Nay, nay, Emily," replied he, a little piqued, "you need not write my -epitaph yet; I don't see exactly why you should pity me so enormously." - -"Haven't you confessed that you glow with gratitude to Lady Stukely?" -rejoined she. - -"Nonsense! I said nothing about _glowing_; but what if I had?" answered -he. - -"Then you acknowledge that you _do_ glow! Heaven help him, the man -actually _glows_," ejaculated Emily. - -"Pshaw! stuff, nonsense. Emily, don't be a blockhead," said he, -impatiently. - -"Oh! Harry, Harry, Harry, don't deny it," continued she, shaking her -head with intense solemnity, and holding up her fingers in a monitory -manner--"you are then actually in love. Oh, Benedick, poor Benedick! -would thou hadst chosen some Beatrice not quite so well stricken in -years; but what of that?--the beauties of age, if less attractive to -the eye of thoughtless folly than those of youth, are unquestionably -more durable; time may rob the cheek of its bloom, but I defy him to -rob it of its rouge; years--I might say centuries--have no power to -blanche a wig or thin its flowing locks; and though the nymph be blind -with age, what matters it if the swain be blind with love? I make no -doubt you'll be fully as happy together as if she had twice as long to -live." - -Ashwoode poked the fire and blew his nose violently, but nevertheless -answered nothing. - -"The brilliant blush of her cheek and the raven blackness of her wig," -continued the incorrigible Emily, "in close and striking contrast, will -remind you, and I trust usefully, of that _rouge et noir_ which has -been your ruin all your days." - -Still Ashwoode spoke not. - -"The exquisite roundness of her ladyship's figure will remind you that -flesh, if not exactly grass, is at least very little better than bran -and buckram; and her smile will invariably suggest the great truth, -that whenever you do not intend to bite it is better not to show your -teeth, especially when they happen to be like her ladyship's; in short, -you cannot look at her without feeling that in every particular, if -rightly read, she supplied a moral lesson, so that in her presence -every unruly passion of man's nature must entirely subside and sink to -rest. Yes, she will make you happy--eminently happy; every little -attention, every caress, every fond glance she throws at you, will -delightfully assure your affectionate spirit, as it wanders in memory -back to the days of earliest childhood, that she will be to you all -that your beloved grandmother could have been, had she been spared. Oh! -Harry, Harry, this will indeed be too much happiness." - -Another pause ensued, and Emily approached Sir Henry as he stood -sulkily by the mantelpiece, and laying her hand upon his arm, looked -archly up into his face, while shaking her head she slowly said,-- - -"Oh! love, love--oh! Cupid, Cupid, mischievous little boy, what hast -thou done with my poor cousin's heart? - - "''Twas on a widow's jointure land - The archer, Cupid, took his stand.'" - -As she said this, she looked so unutterably mischievous and comical, -that in spite of his vexation and all his efforts to the contrary, he -burst into a long and hearty fit of laughter. - -"Emily," said he, at length, "you are absolutely incorrigible--gravity -in your company is entirely out of the question; but listen to me -seriously for one moment, if you can. I will tell you plainly how I am -circumstanced, and you must promise me in return that you will not quiz -me any more about the matter. But first," he added, cautiously, "let us -guard against eavesdroppers." - -He accordingly walked into the next room, which opened upon that in -which they were, and proceeded to close the far door. Before he had -reached it, however, that in the other room opened, and Lady Stukely -herself entered. The instant she appeared, Emily Copland by a gesture -enjoined silence, nodded towards the door of the next room, from which -Ashwoode's voice, as he carelessly hummed an air, was audible; she then -frowned, nodded, and pointed with vehement repetition toward a dark -recess in the wall, made darker and more secure by the flanking -projection of a huge, black, varnished cabinet. Lady Stukely looked -puzzled, took a step in the direction of the post of concealment -indicated by the girl, then looked puzzled, and hesitated again. More -impatiently Emily repeated her signal, and her ladyship, without any -distinct reason, but with her curiosity all alive, glided behind the -protecting cabinet, with all its army of china ornaments, into the -recess, and there remained entirely concealed. She had hardly effected -this movement, which the deep-piled carpet enabled her to do without -noise, when Ashwoode returned, closed the door of communication between -the two rooms, and then shut that through which Lady Stukely had just -entered, almost brushing against her as he did so, so close was their -proximity. These precautions taken, he returned. - -"Now," said he, in a low and deliberate tone, "the plain facts of the -case are just these. I am dipped over head and ears in debt--debts, -too, of the most urgent kind--debts which threaten me with ruin. Now, -these _must_ be paid--one way or another they _must_ be met. And to -effect this I have but one course--one expedient, and you have guessed -it. No man knows better than I what Lady Stukely is. I can see all that -is ridiculous and repulsive about her just as clearly as anybody else. -She is old enough to be my grandmother, and ugly enough to be the -devil's--and, moreover, painted and varnished over like a signboard. -She may be a fool--she may be a termagant--she may be what you -please--but--_but_ she has money. She has been throwing herself into my -arms this twelvemonth or more--and--but what the deuce is that?" - -This interrogatory was caused by certain choking sounds which proceeded -with fearful suddenness from the place of Lady Stukely's concealment, -and which were instantaneously followed by the appearance of her -ladyship in bodily presence. She opened her mouth, but gave utterance -to nothing but a gasp--drew herself up with such portentous and -swelling magnificence, that Ashwoode almost expected to see her expand -like the spectre of a magic-lantern until her head touched the ceiling. -Forward she came, in her progress sweeping a score of china ornaments -from the cabinet, and strewing the whole floor with the crashing -fragments of monkeys, monsters, and mandarins, breathless, choking, and -almost black with rage, Lady Stukely advanced to Ashwoode, who stood, -for the first time in his life, bereft of every vestige of -self-possession. - -"Painted! varnished!" she screamed hysterically, "ridiculous! -repulsive! Oh, heaven and earth! you--you preternatural monster!" With -these words she uttered two piercing shrieks, and threw herself in -strong hysterics into a chair, holding on her wig distractedly with one -hand, for fear of accidents. - - [Illustration: "'Painted! Varnished!' she screamed, hysterically." - _To face page 188._] - -"Don't--don't ring the bell," said she, with an abrupt accession of -fortitude, observing Emily Copland approach the bell. "Don't, I shall -be better presently." And then, with another shriek, she opened afresh. - -As the hysterics subsided, Ashwoode began a little to recover his -scattered wits, and observing that Lady Stukely had sunk back in -extreme languor and exhaustion, with closed eyes, he ventured to -approach the shrine of his outraged divinity. - -"I feel--indeed I own, Lady Stukely," he said, hesitatingly, "I have -much to explain. I ought to explain--yes, I ought. I will, Lady -Stukely--and--and I can entirely satisfy--completely dispel----" - -He was interrupted here; for Lady Stukely, starting bolt upright in the -chair, exclaimed,-- - -"You wretch! you villain! you perjured, scheming, designing, lying, -paltry, stupid, insignificant, outrageous----" - -Whether it was that her ladyship wanted words to supply a climax, or -that hysterics are usually attended with such results, we cannot -pretend to say, but certain it is that at this precise point the -languishing, fashionable, die-away Lady Stukely actually spat in the -young baronet's face. - -Ashwoode changed colour, as he promptly discharged the ridiculous but -very necessary task of wiping his face. With difficulty he restrained -himself under this provocation, but he did command himself so far as to -say nothing. He turned on his heel and walked downstairs, muttering as -he went,-- - -"An old painted devil!" - -The cool air, as he passed out, speedily dissipated the confusion and -excitement of the scene that had just passed, and all the consequences -of his rupture with Lady Stukely rushed upon his mind with overwhelming -and maddening force. - -"You were right, perfectly right--he _is_ a cheat--a trickster--a -villain!" exclaimed Lady Stukely. "Only to think of him! Oh, heaven and -earth!" And again she was seized with violent hysterics, in which state -she was conducted up to her bedroom by Emily Copland, who had enjoyed -the catastrophe with an intensity of relish which none but a female, -and a mischievous one to boot, can know. - -Loud and repeated were Lady Stukely's thanksgivings for having escaped -the snares of the designing young baronet, and warm and multiplied and -grateful her acknowledgments to Emily Copland--to whom, however, from -that time forth she cherished an intense dislike. - - - - -CHAPTER XXXVI. - -OF JEWELS, PLATE, HORSES, DOGS, AND FAMILY PICTURES--AND CONCERNING THE -APPOINTED HOUR. - - -In a state little, if at all, short of distraction, Sir Henry Ashwoode -threw himself from his horse at Morley Court. That resource which he -had calculated upon with absolute certainty had totally failed him; his -last stake had been played and lost, and ruin in its most hideous -aspect stared him in the face. - -Spattered from heel to head with mud--for he had ridden at a reckless -speed--with a face pale as that of a corpse, and his dress all -disordered, he entered the great old parlour, and scarcely knowing what -he did, dashed the door to with violence and bolted it. His brain swam -so that the floor seemed to heave and rock like a sea; he cast his -laced hat and his splendid peruke (the envy and admiration of half the -_petit maitres_ in Dublin) upon the ground, and stood in the centre of -the room, with his hands clutched upon the temples of his bare, shorn -head, and his teeth set, the breathing image of despair. From this -state he was roused by some one endeavouring to open the door. - -"Who's there?" he shouted, springing backward and drawing his sword, as -if he expected a troop of constables to burst in. - -Whoever the party may have been, the attempt was not repeated. - -"What's the matter with me--am I mad?" said Ashwoode, after a terrible -pause, and hurling his sword to the far end of the room. "Lie there. -I've let the moment pass--I might have done it--cut the Gordian knot, -and there an end of all. What brought me here?" - -He stared about the room, for the first time conscious where he stood. - -"Damn these pictures," he muttered; "they're all alive--everything -moves towards me." He flung himself into a chair and clasped his -fingers over his eyes. "I can't breathe--the place is suffocating. Oh, -God! I shall go mad!" He threw open one of the windows and stood -gasping at it as if he stood at the mouth of a furnace. - -"Everything is hot and strange and maddening--I can't endure -this--brain and heart are bursting--it is HELL." - -In a state of excitement which nearly amounted to downright insanity, -he stood at the open window. It was long before this extravagant -agitation subsided so as to allow room for thought or remembrance. At -length he closed the window, and began to pace the room from end to end -with long and heavy steps. He stopped by a pier-table, on which stood a -china bowl full of flowers, and plunging his hands into it, dashed the -water over his head and face. - -"Let me think--let me think," said he. "I was not wont to be thus -overcome by reverse. Surely I can master as much as will pay that -thrice-accursed bond, if I could but collect my thoughts--there must -yet be the means of meeting it. Let _that_ be but paid, and then, -welcome ruin in any other shape. Let me see. Ay, the furniture; then -the pictures--some of them valuable--_very_ valuable; then the horses -and the dogs; and then--ay, the plate. Why, to be sure--what have I -been dreaming of?--the plate will go half-way to satisfy it; and -then--what else? Let me see. The whole thing is six thousand four -hundred and fifty pounds--what more? Is there _nothing_ more to meet -it? The plate--the furniture--the pictures--ay, idiot that I am, why -did I not think of them an hour since?--my sister's jewels--why, it's -all settled--how the devil came it that I never thought of them before? -It's very well, however, as it is--for if I had, they would have gone -long ago. Come, come, I breathe again--I have gotten my neck out of the -hemp, at all events. I'll send in for Craven this moment. He likes a -bargain, and he shall have one--before to-morrow's sun goes down, that -d----d bond shall be ashes. Mary's jewels are valued at two thousand -pounds. Well, let him take them at one thousand five hundred; and the -pictures, plate, furniture, dogs, and horses for the rest--and he has a -bargain. These jewels have saved me--bribed the hangman. What care I -how or when I die, if I but avert that. Ten to one I blow my brains out -before another month. A short life and a merry one was ever the motto -of the Ashwoodes; and as the mirth is pretty well over with me, I begin -to think it time to retire. _Satis edisti, satis bipisti, satis -lusisti, tempus est tibi abire_--what am I raving about? There's -business to be done now--to it, then--to it like a man--while we _are_ -alive let us _be_ alive." - -Craven liked his bargain, and engaged that the money should be duly -handed at noon next day to Sir Henry Ashwoode, who forthwith bade the -worthy attorney good-night, and wrote the following brief note to -Gordon Chancey, Esq.:-- - - "SIR, - - "I shall call upon you to-morrow at one of the clock, if the hour - suit you, upon particular business, and shall be much obliged by - your having a _certain security_ by you, which I shall then be - prepared to redeem. - - "I remain, sir, your very obedient servant, - - "HENRY ASHWOODE." - -"So," said Sir Henry, with a half shudder, as he folded and sealed this -missive, "I shall, at all events, escape the halter. To-morrow night, -spite of wreck and ruin, I shall sleep soundly. God knows, I want rest. -Since I wrote that name, and gave that accursed bond out of my hands, -my whole existence, waking and sleeping, has been but one abhorred and -ghastly nightmare. I would gladly give a limb to have that d----d scrap -of parchment in my hand this moment; but patience, patience--one night -more--one night only--of fevered agony and hideous dreams--one last -night--and then--once more I am my own master--my character and safety -are again in my own hands--and may I die the death, if ever I risk them -again as I have done--one night more--would--_would_ to God it were -morning!" - - - - -CHAPTER XXXVII. - -THE RECKONING--CHANCEY'S LARGE CAT--AND THE COACH. - - -The morning arrived, and at the appointed hour Sir Henry Ashwoode -dismounted in Whitefriar Street, and gave the bridle of his horse to -the groom who accompanied him. - -"Well," thought he, as he entered the dingy, dilapidated square in -which Chancey's lodgings were situated, "this matter, at all events, is -arranged--I sha'n't hang, though I'm half inclined to allow I deserve -to do so for my infernal folly in trying the thing at all; but no -matter, it has given me a lesson I sha'n't soon forget. As to the rest, -what care I now? Let ruin pounce upon me in any shape but that--luckily -I have still enough to keep body and soul together left." - -He paused to indulge in ruminations of no very pleasant kind, and then -half muttered,-- - -"I have been a fool--I have walked in a dream. Only to think of a man -like me, who has seen something of the world, allowing that d----d hag -to play him such a trick. Well, I believe it _is_ true, after all, that -we cannot have wisdom without paying for it. If my acquisitions bear -any proportion to my outlay, I ought to be a Solomon by this time." - -The door was opened to his summons by Gordon Chancey himself. When -Ashwoode entered, Chancey carefully locked the door on the inside and -placed the key in his pocket. - -"It's as well, Sir Henry, to be on the safe side," observed Chancey, -shuffling towards the table. "Dear me, dear me, there's no such thing -as being too careful--is there, Sir Henry?" - -"Well, well, well, let's to business," said young Ashwoode, hurriedly, -seating himself at the end of a heavy deal table, at which was a chair, -and taking from his pocket a large leathern pocket-book. "You have -the--the security here?" - -"Of course--oh, dear, of course," replied the barrister; "the bond and -warrant of attorney--that d----d forgery--it is in the next room, very -safe--oh, dear me, yes indeed." - -It struck Ashwoode that there was something, he could not exactly say -what, unusual and sinister in the manner of Mr. Chancey, as well as in -his emphasis and language, and he fixed his eye upon him for a moment -with a searching glance. The barrister, however, busied himself with -tumbling over some papers in a drawer. - -"Well, why don't you get it?" asked Ashwoode, impatiently. - -"Never mind, never mind," replied Chancey; "do _you_ reckon your money -over, and be very sure the bond will come time enough. I don't wonder, -though, you're eager to have it fast in your own hands again--but it -will come--it will come." - -Ashwoode proceeded to open the pocket-book and to turn over the notes. - -"They're all right," said he, "they're all right. But, hush!" he added, -slightly changing colour--"I hear something stirring in the next room." - -"Oh, dear, dear, it's nothing but the cat," rejoined Chancey, with an -ugly laugh. - -"Your cat treads very heavily," said Ashwoode, suspiciously. - -"So it does," rejoined Chancey, "it does tread heavy; it's a very large -cat, so it is; it has wonderful great claws; it can see in the dark; -it's a great cat; it never missed a rat yet; and I've seen it lure the -bird off a branch with the mere power of its eye; it's a great cat--but -reckon your money, and I'll go in for the bond." - -This strange speech was uttered in a manner at least as strange, and -Chancey, without waiting for commentary or interruption, passed into -the next room. The step crossed the adjoining chamber, and Ashwoode -heard the rustling of papers; it then returned, the door opened, and -_not_ Gordon Chancey, but Nicholas Blarden entered the room and -confronted Sir Henry Ashwoode. Personal fear in bodily conflict was a -thing unknown to the young baronet, but now all courage, all strength -forsook him, and he stood gazing in vacant horror upon that, to him, -most tremendous apparition, with a face white as ashes, and covered -with the starting dews of terror. - -With that hideous combination, a smile and a scowl, stamped upon his -coarse features, the wretch stood with folded arms, in an attitude of -indescribable exultation, gazing with savage, gloating eyes full upon -his appalled and terror-stricken victim. Fixed as statues they both -remained for several minutes. - -"Ho, ho, ho! you look frightened, young man," exclaimed Blarden, with a -horse laugh; "you look as if you were going to be hanged--you look as -if the hemp were round your neck--you look as if the hangman had you by -the collar, you do--ho, ho, ho!" - -Ashwoode's bloodless lips moved, but utterance was gone. - -"It's hard to get the words out," continued Blarden, with ferocious -glee. "I never knew the man yet could do a last dying speech smooth--a -sort of choking comes on, eh?--the sight of the minister and the -hangman makes a man feel so quare, eh?--and the coffin looks so ugly, -and all the crowd; it's confusing somehow, and puts a man out, eh?--ho, -ho, ho!" - -Ashwoode laid his hand upon his forehead, and gazed on in blank horror. - -"Why, you're not such a great man, by half, as you were in the -play-house the other evening," continued Blarden; "you don't look so -grand, by any manner of means. Some way or other, you look a little -sickish or so. I'm afraid you don't like my company--ho, ho, ho!" - -Still Sir Henry remained locked in the same stupefied silence. - -"Ho, ho! you seem to think your hemp is twisted, and your boards -sawed," resumed Blarden; "you seem to think you're in a fix at -last--and so do I, by ----!" he thundered, "for _I_ have the rope -fairly round your weasand, and, by ---- I'll make you dance upon -nothing, at Gallows Hill, before you're a month older. Do you hear -_that_--do you--you swindler? Eh--you gaol-bird, you common forger, you -robber, you crows' meat--who holds the winning cards now?" - -"Where--where's the bond?" said Ashwoode, scarce audibly. - -"Where's your precious bond, you forger, you gibbet-carrion?" shouted -Blarden, exultingly. "Where's your forged bond--the bond that will -crack your neck for you--where is it, eh? Why, here--here in my -breeches pocket--_that's_ where it is. I hope you think it safe -enough--eh, you gallows-tassle?" - -Yielding to some confused instinctive prompting to recover the fatal -instrument, Ashwoode drew his sword, and would have rushed upon his -brutal and triumphant persecutor; but Blarden was not unprepared even -for this. With the quickness of light, he snatched a pistol from his -coat pocket, recoiling, as he did so, a hurried pace or two, and while -he turned, coward as he was, pale and livid as death, he levelled it at -the young man's breast, and both stood for an instant motionless, in -the attitudes of deadly antagonism. - -"Put up your sword; I have you there, as well as everywhere -else--regularly checkmated, by ----!" shouted Blarden, with the -ferocity of half-desperate cowardice. "Put up your sword, I say, and -don't be a bloody idiot, along with everything else. Don't you see -you're done for?--there's not a chance left you. You're in the cage, -and there's no need to knock yourself to pieces against the -bars--you're done for, I tell you." - -With a mute but expressive gesture of despair, Ashwoode grasped his -sword by the slender, glittering blade, and broke it across. The -fragments dropped from his hands, and he sunk almost lifeless into a -chair--a spectacle so ghastly, that Blarden for a moment thought that -death was about to rescue his victim. - -"Chancey, come out here," exclaimed Blarden; "the fellow has taken the -staggers--come out, will you?" - -"Oh! dear me, dear me," said Chancey, in his own quiet way, "but he -looks very bad." - -"Go over and shake him," said Blarden, still holding the pistol in his -hand. "What are you afraid of? He can't hurt you--he has broken his -bilbo across--the symbol of gentility. By ----! he's a good deal down -in the mouth." - -While they thus debated, Ashwoode rose up, looking more like a corpse -endowed with motion than a living man. - -"Take me away at once," said he, with a sullen wildness--"take me away -to gaol, or where you will--anywhere were better than this place. Take -me away; I am ruined--blasted. Make the most of it--your infernal -scheme has succeeded--take me to prison." - -"Oh, murder! he wants to go to gaol--do you hear him, Chancey?" cried -Blarden--"such an elegant, fine gentleman to think of such a thing: -only to think of a baronet in gaol--and for forgery, too--and the -condemned cell such an ungentlemanly sort of a hole. Why, you'd have to -use perfumes to no end, to make the place fit for the reception of your -aristocratic visitors--my Lord this, and my Lady that--for, of course, -you'll keep none but the best of company--ho, ho, ho! Perhaps the judge -that's to try you may turn out to be an old acquaintance, for your luck -is surprising--isn't it, Chancey?--and he'll pay you a fine compliment, -and express his regret when he's going to pass sentence, eh?--ho, ho, -ho! But, after all, I'd advise you, if the condescension is not too -much to expect from such a very fine gentleman as you, to consort as -much as possible with the turnkey--he's the most useful friend you can -make, under your peculiarly delicate circumstances--ho, ho!--eh? It's -just possible he mayn't like to associate with you, for some of them -fellows are rather stiff, d'ye see, and won't keep company with certain -classes of the coves in quod, such as forgers or pickpockets; but if -he'll allow it, you'd better get intimate with him--ho, ho, ho!--eh?" - -"Take me to the prison, sir," said Ashwoode, sternly--"I suppose you -mean to do so. Let your officers remove me at once--you have, no doubt, -men for the purpose in the next room. Let them call a coach, and I will -go with them--but let it be at once." - -"Well, you're not far out there, by ----!" replied Blarden. "I _have_ a -broad-shouldered acquaintance or two, and a little bit of a -warrant--you understand?--in the next apartment. Grimes, Grimes, come -in here--you're wanted." - -A huge, ill-looking fellow, with his coat buttoned up to his chin, and -a short pipe protruding from the corner of his mouth, swaggered into -the chamber, with that peculiar gait which seems as if contracted by -habitually shouldering and jostling through mobs and all manner of -riotous assemblies. - -"_That's_ the bird?" said the fellow, interrogatively, and pointing -with his pipe carelessly at Ashwoode. "You're my prisoner," he added, -gruffly addressing the unfortunate young man, and at the same time -planting his ponderous hand heavily upon his shoulder, he in the other -exhibited a crumpled warrant. - -"Grimes, go call a coach," said Blarden, "and don't be a brace of -shakes about it, do you mind." - -Grimes departed, and Blarden, after a long pause, suddenly addressing -himself to Ashwoode, resumed, in a somewhat altered tone, but with -intenser sternness still,-- - -"Now, I tell you what it is, my young cove, I have a sort of half a -notion not to send you to gaol at all, do you hear?" - -"Pshaw, pshaw!" said Ashwoode, turning bitterly away. - -"I tell you I'm speaking what I mean," rejoined Blarden; "I'll not send -you there _now_ at any rate. I want to have a bit of chat with you this -evening, and it shall rest with you whether you go there at all or not; -I'll give you the choice fairly. We'll meet, then, at Morley Court this -evening, at eight o'clock; and for fear of accidents in the meantime, -you'll have no objection to our mutual friend, Mr. Chancey, and our -common acquaintance, Mr. Grimes, accompanying you home in the coach, -and just keeping an eye on you till I come, for fear you might be out -walking when I call--you understand me? But here's Grimes. Mr. Grimes, -my particular friend Sir Henry Ashwoode has taken an extraordinary -remarkable fancy to you, and wishes to know whether you'll do him the -favour to take a jaunt with him in a carriage to see his house at -Morley Court, and to spend the day with him and Mr. Chancey, for he -finds that his health requires him to keep at home, and he has a -particular objection to be left alone, even for a minute. Sir Henry, -the coach is at the door. You'd better bundle up your bank-notes, they -may be useful to you. Chancey, tell Sir Henry's groom, as you pass, -that he'll not want his horse any more to-day." - -The party went out; Sir Henry, pale as death, and scarcely able to -support himself on his limbs, walking between Chancey and the herculean -constable. Blarden saw them safely shut up in the vehicle, and giving -the coachman his orders, gazed after them as they drove away in the -direction of Morley Court, with a flushed face and a bounding heart. - - - - -CHAPTER XXXVIII. - -STRANGE GUESTS AT THE MANOR. - - -The coach jingled, jolted, and rumbled on, and Ashwoode lay back in the -crazy conveyance in a kind of stupefied apathy. The scene which had -just closed was, in his mind, a chaos of horrible confusion--a hideous, -stunning dream, whose incidents, as they floated through his passive -memory, seemed like unreal and terrific exaggerations, into whose -reality he wanted energy and power to inquire. Still before him sate a -breathing evidence of the truth of all these confused and horrible -recollections--the stalwart, ruffianly figure of the constable--with -his great red horny hands, and greasy cuffs, and the heavy coat -buttoned up to his unshorn chin--and the short, discoloured pipe, -protruding from the corner of his mouth--lounging back with half-closed -eyes, and the air of a man who had passed the night in wearisome vigils -among strife and riot, and who has acquired the compensating power of -dividing his faculties at all times pretty nearly between sleep and -waking--a kind of sottish, semi-existence--something between that of a -swine and a sloth. Over this figure the eyes of the young man vacantly -wandered, and thence to the cheerful fields and trees visible from the -window, and back again to the burly constable, until every seam and -button in his coat grew familiar to his mind as the oldest tenants of -his memory. Beside him, too, sate Chancey--his artful, cowardly -betrayer. Yet even against him he could not feel anger; all energy of -thought and feeling seemed lost to him; and nothing but a dull -ambiguous incredulity and a scared stupor were there in their stead. -On--on they rolled and rumbled, among pleasant fields and stately -hedge-rows, toward the ancestral dwelling of the miserable prisoner, -who sate like a lifeless effigy, yielding passively to every jolt and -movement of the carriage. - -"I say, Grimes, were you ever out here before?" inquired Mr. Chancey. -"We'll soon be in the manor, driving up to Morley Court. It's a fine -place, I'm given to understand. I never was here but once before, long -as I know Sir Henry; but better late than never. Do you know this -place, Mr. Grimes?" - -A negative grunt and a short nod relieved Mr. Grimes from the painful -necessity of removing his pipe for the purpose of uttering an -articulate answer. - -"Oh, dear me, dear me," resumed Mr. Chancey, "but I'm uncommon hungry -and dry. I wish to God we were safe and sound in Sir Henry's house. -Grimes, are _you_ dry?" - -Mr. Grimes removed his pipe, and spat upon the coach floor. - -"Am I dhry?" said he. "About as dhry as a sprat in a tindher-box, -that's all. Is there much more to go?" - -Chancey stretched his head out of the coach window. - -"I see the old piers of the avenue," said he; "and God knows but it's I -that's glad we're near our journey's end. Now we're passing in--we're -in the avenue." - -Mr. Grimes hereupon uttered a grunt of approbation; and pressing down -the ashes of his pipe with his thumb, he deposited that instrument in -his waistcoat pocket--whence, at the same time, he drew a small plug of -tobacco, which he inserted in his mouth, and rolled it about with his -tongue from time to time during the remainder of their progress. - -"Sir Henry, we're arrived," said Chancey, admonishing the baronet with -his elbow--"we're at the hall-door at Morley Court. Sir Henry--dear me, -dear me, he's very abstracted, so he is. I say, Sir Henry, we're at -Morley Court." - -Ashwoode looked vacantly in Chancey's face, and then upon the stately -door of the old house, and suddenly recollecting himself, he said with -strange alacrity,-- - -"Ay, ay--at Morley Court--so we are. Come, then, gentlemen, let us get -down." - -Accordingly the three companions descended from the conveyance, and -entered the ancient dwelling-house together. - -"Follow me, gentlemen," said Ashwoode, leading the way to a small, -oak-wainscoted parlour. "You shall have refreshments immediately." - -He called the servant to the door, and continued addressing himself to -Chancey, and his no less refined companion. - -"Order what you please, gentlemen--I can't think of these things just -now; and, sirrah, do you hear me, bring a large vessel of water--my -throat is literally scorched." - -"Well, Mr. Chancey, what do you say?" said Grimes. "I'm for a couple of -bottles of sack, and a good pitcher of ale, to begin with, in the way -of liquor." - -"Well, it wouldn't be that bad," said Chancey. "What meat have you on -the spit, my good man?" - -"I don't exactly know, sir," replied the wondering domestic; "but I'll -inquire." - -"And see, my good man," continued Chancey, "ask them whether there -isn't some cold roast beef in the buttery; and if so, bring it up in a -jiffy, for, I declare to G--d I'm uncommon hungry; and let the cook -send up a hot joint directly;--and do you mind, my honest man, light a -bit of a fire here, for it's rather chill, and put plenty of dry -sticks----" - -"Give us the ale and the sack this instant minute, do you see," said -Mr. Grimes. "You may do the rest after." - -"Yes, you may as well," resumed Chancey; "for indeed I'm lost with the -drooth myself." - -"Cut your stick, saucepan," said Mr. Grimes, authoritatively; and the -servant departed in unfeigned astonishment to execute his various -commissions. - -Ashwoode threw himself into a seat, and in silence endeavoured to -collect his thoughts. Faint, sick, and stunned, he nevertheless began -gradually to comprehend every particular of his position more and more -fully--until at length all the ghastly truth stood revealed to his -mind's eye in vivid and glaring distinctness. While Ashwoode was -engaged in his agreeable ruminations, Mr. Chancey and Mr. Grimes were -busily employed in discussing the substantial fare which his larder had -supplied, and pledging one another in copious libations of generous -liquor. - - - - -CHAPTER XXXIX. - -THE BARGAIN, AND THE NEW CONFEDERATES. - - -At length the evening came--darkness closed over the old place, and as -the appointed hour approached, Ashwoode became more and more excited. - -"I must," thought he, "keep every faculty intensely on the stretch, to -detect, if possible, the nature of their schemes. Blarden and Chancey -have unquestionably hatched some other d----d plot, though what worse -can befall me? _I_ am netted as completely as their worst malice can -desire. It is now seven o'clock. Another hour will determine all my -doubts. Hark you, sirrah!" continued he, raising his voice, and -addressing a servant who had entered the chamber, "I expect a gentleman -upon particular business at eight o'clock. On his arrival conduct him -directly to this room." - -He then relapsed into the same train of gloomy and agitated thought. - -Chancey and his burly companion both sat snugly before the fire smoking -their pipes in silent enjoyment, while their miserable host paced the -room from wall to wall in mental torments indescribable. - -At length the weary interval expired, and within a few minutes of the -appointed hour, Nicholas Blarden was admitted by the servant, and -ushered into the chamber in which Ashwoode expected his arrival. - -"Well, Sir Henry," exclaimed Blarden, as he swaggered into the room, -"you seem a little flustered still--eh? Hope you found your company -pleasant. My friends' society is considered uncommon agreeable." - -The visitor here threw himself into a chair, and continued-- - -"By the holy Saint Paul, as I rode up your cursed old dusky avenue, I -began to think the chances were ten to one you had brought your throat -and a razor acquainted before this. I have known men do it under your -circumstances--of course I mean _gentlemen_, with fine friends and -delicate habits, and who could not stand exposure and all that kind of -thing. I say, Mr. Grimes, my sweet fellow, you may leave the room, but -keep within call, do ye mind. Mr. Chancey and I want to have a little -confidential conversation with my friend, Sir Henry. Bundle out, and -the moment you hear me call your name, bolt in again like a shot." - -Mr. Grimes, without answering, rose and lounged out of the room. - -"Chancey, shut that door," continued Blarden. "Shut it tight, as tight -as a drum. There, to your seat again. _Now_ then, Sir Henry, we may as -well to business; but first of all, sit down. I have no objection to -your sitting. Don't be shy." - -Sir Henry Ashwoode _did_ seat himself, and the three members of this -secret council drew their chairs around the table, each with very -different feelings. - -"I take it for granted," said Blarden, planting his elbow upon the -table, and supporting his chin upon his hand, while he fixed his -baleful eyes upon the young man, "I take it for granted, and as a -matter of course, that you have been puzzling your brains all day to -come at the reason why I allow you to be sitting in this house, instead -of clapping your four bones under lock and key, in another place." - -He paused here, as if to allow his exordium to impress itself upon the -memory of his auditory, and then resumed,-- - -"And I take it for granted, moreover, that you are not quite fool -enough to imagine that I care one blast if you were strung up by the -hangman, and carved by the doctors, to-morrow--eh?" - -He paused again. - -"Well, then, it's possible you think I have some end of my own to -serve, by letting the matter stand over this way. And so I _have_, by -----. You think right, if you never thought right before. I _have_ an -object in view, and it lies with you whether it's gained or lost. Do -you mind?" - -"Go on--go on--go on," repeated Ashwoode, gloomily. - -"What a devil of a hurry you're in," observed Blarden, with a scornful -chuckle. "But don't tear yourself; you'll have it all time enough. Now -I'm going to do great things for you--do you mind me? I'm going, in the -first place, to give you your life and your character--such as it is; -and, what's more, I'll not let you go to jail for debt neither. I'll -not let you be ruined; for Nickey Blarden was never the man to do -things by halves. Do you hear all I'm saying?" - -"Yes, yes," said Ashwoode, faintly; "but the condition--come to -that--the condition." - -"Well, I _will_ come to that. I will tell you the terms," rejoined -Blarden. "I suppose you need not be told that I am worth a good penny, -no matter how much. At any rate I'm _rich_--that much you _do_ know. -Well, perhaps you'll think it odd that I have not taken up a little to -live more quiet and orderly; in short, that I have not sown my wild -oats, and settled down, and all that, and become what they call an -ornament to society--eh? You, perhaps, wonder how it comes I have not -taken a rib--why I have not got married--eh? Well, I think myself it -_is_ a wonder, especially for such an admirer of the sex as I am, and I -think it's a pity besides, and so I've made up my mind to mend the -matter, do you see, and to take a wife without loss of time. She must -have family, for I want that, and she must have beauty, for I would not -marry the queen without it--family and beauty. I don't ask money; I -have more of my own than I well know what to do with. Family and beauty -is what I require. And I have settled the thing in my own mind, that -the very article I want, just the thing to a nicety, is your -sister--little, bright-eyed Mary--sporting Molly. I wish to marry her, -and her I'll _have_--and that's the long and the short of the whole -business." - -"You--_you_ marry my sister," exclaimed Ashwoode, returning the -fellow's insolent gaze with a look of indescribable scorn and -astonishment. - -"Yes--I--I myself--I, Nicholas Blarden, with more gold than a man could -count in three lives," shouted Blarden, returning his gaze with a scowl -of defiance--"_I_ condescend to marry the sister of a ruined, beggared -profligate--a common _forger_, who has one foot in the dock at this -minute. Down upon your marrow-bones, and thank me for my -condescension--down, I say." - -Overwhelmed with indignation and disgust, Ashwoode could not answer. -All his self-command was required to resist his vehement internal -impulse to strike the fellow to the ground and trample upon him. This -strong emotion, however, had its spring in no generous source. No -thought or care for Mary's feelings or fate crossed his mind; but only -the sense of insulted pride, for even in the midst of all his misery -and abasement, his hereditary pride of birth survived: that this low, -this entirely blasted, this branded ruffian should dare to propose to -ally himself with the Ashwoodes of Morley Court--a family whose blood -was as pure as centuries of aristocratic transmission, and repeated -commixture with that of nobility, could make it--a family who stood, in -consideration and respect, one of the very highest of the country! -Could flesh and blood endure it? - -"Make your mind up at once--I have no time to spare; and just remember -that the locality of your night's lodging depends upon your decision," -said Blarden, coolly, looking at his watch. "If, unfortunately for -yourself, you should resolve against the connection, then you must have -the goodness to accompany us into town to-night, and the law takes its -course quietly with you, and your neck-bone must only reconcile itself -to an ugly bit of a twist. If otherwise, you're a made man. Run the -matter fairly over in your mind, and see which of us two should desire -the thing most. As for me, I tell you plainly, it's a bit of a -fancy--no more--and may pass off in a day or two, for I don't pretend -to be extraordinarily steady in love affairs, and always had rather a -roving eye; and if I _should_ happen to cool, by ----, you'll be in a -nice hobble. So I think you had best take the ball at the hop--do you -mind--and make no mouths at your good fortune." - -Blarden paused, and looked at his huge chased-gold watch again, and -laid it on the table, as if to measure Ashwoode's deliberation by the -minute. Meanwhile the young baronet had ample time to recollect the -desperate pressure of his circumstances, which outraged pride had for a -moment half obliterated from his mind, and the process of remembrance -was in no small degree assisted by the heavy tread of the constable, -distinctly audible from the hall. - -"Blarden," said Ashwoode, in a voice low and husky with agitation, -"she'll never consent--you can't expect it: she'll never marry you." - -"I'm not talking of the girl's consent just now," replied Blarden: "I'm -asking only for _yours_ in the first place. Am I to understand that -you're agreed?" - -"Yes," replied Ashwoode, sullenly; "what is there left to me, but to -agree?" - -"Then leave me alone to gain _her_ consent," retorted Blarden, with a -brutal smile. "I have a bit of a winning way with me--a knack of my -own--for coming round a girl; and if she don't yield to that, why we -must only try another course. When love is wanting, _obedience_ is the -next best thing: although we can't charm her, she's no girl if we can't -frighten her--eh?" - -Ashwoode was silent. - -"Now mind, I require your active co-operation," continued Blarden; -"there's to be no shamming. I'm no greenhorn, and know a loaded die -from a fair one. It's not safe to try hocus pocus with me, and if I -don't get the girl, of course you're no brother of mine, and must not -expect me to forget the old score that's between us. Do you understand -me? Unless you bring this marriage about, you must only take the -consequences, and I promise you they'll be of the very ugliest possible -description." - -"Agreed, agreed; talk no more of it just now," said Ashwoode, -vehemently--"we understand one another. Tomorrow we may talk of it -again; meanwhile torment me no more!" - -"Well, I have said my say," rejoined Blarden, "and have nothing more to -do but to inform you, that I intend passing the night here, and, in -short, to make a visit of a week or so, for it's right the young lady -should have an opportunity of knowing my geography before she marries -me; and besides, I have heard a great account of old Sir Richard's -cellar. Chancey, do you tell my servant to bring my things up to the -room that Sir Henry will point out. Sir Henry, you'll see about my -room--have a bit of fire in it--see to it yourself, mind; for do you -mind, between ourselves, I think it's on the whole your better course -to be uncommonly civil to me. Stir yourselves, gentlemen. And, Chancey, -hand Grimes his fee, and let him be off. We'll try a jug of your -claret, Sir Henry, and a spatchcock, or some little thing of the kind, -and then to our virtuous beds--eh?" - -After a carousal protracted to nearly three hours, during which Nickey -Blarden treated his two companions to sundry ballads, and other vocal -efforts somewhat more boisterous than elegant, and supplying frequent -allusion, and not of the most delicate kind, to his contemplated change -of condition, that interesting person proceeded somewhat unsteadily -upstairs to his bed-chamber. With a suspicion, which even his tipsiness -could not overcome, he jealously bolted the door upon the inside, and -laid his sword and pistols upon the table by his bed, remembering that -it was just possible that his entertainer might conceive an expeditious -project for relieving himself of all his troubles, or at least the -greater part of them. These pleasant precautions taken, Mr. Blarden -undressed himself with all celerity and threw himself into bed. - -This gentleman's opinion of mankind was by no means exalted, nor at all -complimentary to human nature. Utter, hardened selfishness he believed -to be the master-passion of the human race, and any appeal which -addressed itself to that, he looked upon as irresistible. In applying -this rule to Sir Henry Ashwoode he happened, indeed, to be critically -correct, for the young baronet was in very nearly all points fashioned -precisely according to honest Nickey's standard of humanity. That -gentleman experienced, therefore, no misgivings as to his young -friend's preferring at all hazards to remain at Morley Court, rather -than quit the country, and enter upon a life of vagabond beggary. - -"No, no," thought Blarden, "he'll not take leg bail, just because he -can gain nothing earthly by it now; the only thing I can see that could -serve him at all--that is, supposing him to be against the match--is to -cut my throat; however, I don't think he's wild enough to run that -risk, and if he does try it, by ----, he'll have the worst of the -game." - -Thus, after a day of unclouded triumph, did Mr. Blarden compose himself -to light and happy slumbers. - - - - -CHAPTER XL. - -DREAMS--FIRST IMPRESSIONS--THE MAN IN THE PLUM-COLOURED SUIT. - - -The sun shone cheerily through the casement of the quaint and pretty -little chamber which called Mary Ashwoode its mistress. It was a fresh -and sunny autumn morning; the last leaves rustled on the boughs, and -the thrush and blackbird sang their merry morning lays. Mary sat by the -window, looking sadly forth upon the slopes and woods which caught the -slanting beams of the ruddy sun. - -"I have passed, indeed, a very troubled night--I have been haunted with -strange and fearful dreams. I feel very sorrowful and uneasy--indeed, -indeed I do, Carey." - -"It's only the vapours, my lady," replied the maid; "a glass of -orange-flower water and camphor is the sovereignest thing in the world -for them." - -"Indeed, Carey," continued the young lady, still gazing sadly from the -casement, "I know not why it is so--a foolish dream, wild and most -extravagant, yet still it will not leave me. I cannot shake off this -fear and depression. I will run down stairs and talk with my dear -brother--that may cheer me." - -She arose, ran lightly down the stairs, and entered the parlour. The -first object that met her gaze, standing full before her, was a large -and singularly ill-looking man, arrayed in a suit of plum-coloured -cloth, richly laced. It was Nicholas Blarden. With a vulgar swagger, -half abashed and half impudent, the fellow acknowledged her entrance by -retreating a little and making an awkward bow, while a smile and a -leer, more calculated to frighten than to attract, lighted his coarse -and swollen features. The girl looked at this object with a startled -air, she felt that she had seen that sinister face before, but where or -when--whether waking or in a dream, she strove in vain to remember. - -"I say, Ashwoode, where's your manners?" said Blarden, turning angrily -towards the young baronet, who was scarcely less confounded at her -sudden entrance than was the girl herself. "What do you stand gaping -there for? Don't you see the young lady wants to know who I am?" - -Blarden followed this vehement exhortation with a look which at once -recalled Ashwoode to his senses. - -"Mary," said he, approaching, "this is my particular friend, Mr. -Nicholas Blarden. Mr. Blarden, my sister, Miss Mary Ashwoode." - -"Your most obedient humble servant, Mistress Mary," said Blarden, with -a gallant air. "Wonderful beautiful weather; d---- me, but it's like -the middle of summer. I'm just going out to take a bit of a tramp among -the bushes and lead goddesses," he added, not feeling, spite of all his -effrontery, quite at his ease in the presence of the elegant and -high-born girl; and, more confounded and abashed by the simple dignity -of her artless nature than he ever remembered to have been before, -under any circumstances whatever, he made his exit from the chamber. - -"Who is that man?" said the girl, drawing close to her brother's side, -and clinging timidly to his arm. "His face is familiar to me--I have -seen or dreamed of it before; it has been before me either in some -troubled scene or dream. I feel frightened and oppressed when he is -near me. Who is he, brother?" - -"Pshaw! nonsense, girl," said her brother, in vain attempting to appear -unconstrained and at his ease; "he is a very good, honest fellow, not, -as you see, the most polished in the world, but in essentials an -excellent fellow; you'll easily get over your antipathy--his oddity of -manner and appearance is soon forgotten, and in all other points he is -an admirable fellow. Pshaw! you have too much sense to hate a man for -his face and manner." - -"I do not hate him, brother," said Mary, "how could I? The man has -never wronged me; but there is something in his eye, in his air and -expression, in his whole appearance, sinister and terrible--something -which oppresses and terrifies me. I can scarcely move or breathe in his -presence. I only hope that I may never meet him so near again." - -"Your hope is not likely to be realized, then," replied Ashwoode, -abruptly, "he makes a stay here of a week, or perhaps more." - -A silence followed, during which he revolved the expediency of hinting -at once at the designs of Blarden. As he thus paused, moodily plotting -how best to open the subject, the unconscious girl stood beside him, -and, looking fondly in his face, she said,-- - -"Dear brother, you must not be so sad. When all's done, what have we -lost but some of the wealth which we can spare? We have still enough, -quite enough. You shall live with your poor little sister, and I will -take care of you, and read to you, and sing to you whenever you are -sad; and we will walk together in the old green woods, and be far -happier and merrier than ever we could have been in the midst of cold -and heartless luxury and dissipation. Brother, dear brother, when shall -we go to Incharden?" - -"I can't say; I--I don't know that we shall go there at all," replied -he, shortly. - -Deep disappointment clouded the poor girl's face for a moment, but as -instantly the sweet smile returned, and she laid her hand -affectionately upon her brother's shoulder, and looked in his face. - -"Well, dear brother, wherever you go, there is _my_ home, and there I -will be happy--as happy as being with the only creature that cares for -me now can make me." - -"Perhaps there are others who care for you--ay--even more than I do," -said the young man deliberately, and fixing his eyes upon her -searchingly, as he spoke. - -"How, brother; what do you mean?" said the poor girl, faintly, and -turning pale as death. "Have you seen--have you heard from----" She -paused, trembling violently, and Ashwoode resumed,-- - -"No, no, child; I have neither seen nor heard from anyone whom you know -anything of. Why are you so agitated? Pshaw! nonsense." - -"I know not how it is, brother; I am depressed, and easily agitated -to-day," rejoined she; "perhaps it is that I cannot forget a fearful -dream which troubled me last night." - -"Tut, tut, child," replied he; "I thought you had other matters to -think of." - -"And so I have, God knows, dear brother," resumed she--"so I have; but -this dream haunted me long, and haunts me still; it was about you. I -dreamed that we were walking, lovingly, hand in hand, among the shady -walks in this old place; when, on a sudden, a great savage dog--just -like the old blood-hound you had shot last summer--came, with open jaws -and all its fangs exposed, springing towards us. I threw myself, -terrified, into your arms, but you grasped me, with iron strength, and -held me forth toward the frightful animal. I saw your face; it was -changed and horrible. I struggled--I screamed--and awakened, gasping -with afright." - -"A silly, unmeaning dream," said Ashwoode, slightly changing colour, -and turning from her. "You're not such a child, surely, as to let -_that_ trouble you." - -"No, indeed, brother," replied she, "I do not suffer it to trouble my -mind; but it has fastened somehow upon my imagination, and spite of all -I can do, the impression remains---- There--there--see that horrible -man staring in at us, from behind the evergreens," she added, glancing -at a large, tufted laurel, which partially screened the unprepossessing -form of Nicholas Blarden, who was intently watching the youthful pair -as they conversed. Perhaps conscious that he had been observed, he -quitted his lurking-place, and plunged deeper into the thick screen of -foliage. - -"Dear Henry," said she, turning imploringly toward her brother, "there -is something about that man which frightens me; my heart sickens -whenever I see him. I feel like some poor bird under the eye of a hawk. -I do not feel safe when he is looking at me; there is some evil -influence in his gaze--something bad, satanic, in his look and -presence; I dread him instinctively. For God's sake, dear, dear -brother, do not keep company with him--he will harm you--it cannot lead -to good." - -"This is mere folly--downright raving," said Ashwoode, vehemently, but -with an uneasiness which he could not conceal. "He is my guest, and -will remain so for some weeks. I must be civil to him--_both_ of us -must." - -"Surely, dear brother--after all I have said--you will not ask me to -associate with him during his stay, since stay he must," urged Mary. - -"We ought not to consult our whims at the expense of civility," -retorted the baronet, drily. - -"But surely my presence is not required," urged she. - -"You cannot tell how that may be," replied Ashwoode, abruptly, and then -added, abstractedly, as he walked slowly towards the door: "We often -speak, we know not what; we often stand, we know not where--necessity, -fate, destiny--whatever is, _must_ be. Let this be our philosophy, -Mary." - -Wholly at a loss to comprehend this incoherent speech, his sister -remained silent for some minutes. - -"Well, child, how say you?" exclaimed Ashwoode, turning suddenly round. - -"Dear brother," said she, "I would fain not meet that man any more -while he remains here. You will not ask me to come down." - -"A truce to this folly," exclaimed Ashwoode, with loud and sudden -emphasis. "You must--you _must_, I say, appear at breakfast, at dinner, -and at supper. You must see Blarden, and talk with him--he's _my_ -friend--you _must_ know him." Then checking himself, he added, in a -less vehement tone--"Mary, don't _act_ like a fool--you _are_ none: -these silly fancies must not be indulged--remember, he's _my_ friend. -There, there, be a good girl--no more folly." - -He came over, patted her cheek, and then turned abruptly from her, and -left the room. His parting caress, however, was not sufficient to -obliterate the painful impression which his momentary violence had -left, for in that brief space of angry excitement his countenance had -worn the self-same sinister expression which had appalled her in her -last night's dream. - - - - -CHAPTER XLI. - -OF O'CONNOR AND A CERTAIN TRAVELLING ECCLESIASTIC--AND HOW THE DARKNESS -OVERTOOK THEM. - - -It has become necessary, in order to a clear and chronologically -arranged exposition of events to return for a little while to our -melancholy young friend, Edmond O'Connor, who, with his faithful -squire, Larry Toole, following in close attendance upon his progress, -was now returning from a last visit to the poor fragment of his -patrimony, the wreck of his father's fortunes, and which consisted of a -few hundred acres of wild woodland, surrounding a small square tower -half gone to decay, and bidding fair to become in a few years a mere -roofless ruin. He had seen the few retainers of his family who still -remained, and bidden them a last farewell, and was now far in his -second day's leisurely journey toward the city of Dublin. - -The sun was fast declining among the rich and glowing clouds of an -autumnal evening, and pouring its melancholy lustre upon the woods and -the old towers of Leixlip, as the young man rode into that ancient -town. How different were his present feelings from those with which he -had last traversed the quiet little village--then his bright hopes and -cheery fancies had tinged every object he looked on with their own warm -and happy colouring; but now, alas! how mournful the reverse. With the -sweet illusions he had so fondly cherished had vanished all the charm -of all he saw; the scene was disenchanted now, and all seemed coloured -in the sombre and chastened hues of his own deep melancholy; the river, -with all its brawling falls and windings, filled his ear with plaintive -harmonies, and all its dancing foam-bells, that chased one another down -its broad eddies, glancing in the dim, discoloured light of the evening -sun, seemed but so many images of the wayward courses and light -illusions of human hope; even the old ivy-mantled towers, as he looked -upon their time-worn front, seemed to have suffered a century's decay -since last he beheld them; every scene that met his eye, and every -sound that floated to his ear on the still air of evening, was alike -charged with sadness. - -At a slow pace, and with a heart oppressed, he passed the little town, -and soon its trees, and humble roofs, and blue curling smoke were left -far behind him. He had proceeded more than a mile when the sun -descended, and the dusky twilight began to deepen. He spurred his -horse, and at a rate more suited to the limited duration of the little -light which remained, he rode at a sharp trot along the uneven way -toward Dublin. He had not proceeded far at this rate when he overtook a -gentleman on horseback, who was listlessly walking his steed in the -same direction, and who, on seeing a cavalier thus wending his way on -the same route, either with a view to secure good company upon the -road, or for some other less obvious purpose, spurred on also, and took -his place by the side of our young friend. O'Connor looked upon his -uninvited companion with a jealous eye, for his night adventure of a -few months since was forcibly recalled to his memory by the -circumstances of his present situation. The person who rode by his side -was, as well as he could descry, a tall, lank man, with a hooked nose, -heavy brows, and sallow complexion, having something grim and ascetic -in the character of his face. After turning slightly twice or thrice -towards O'Connor, as if doubtful whether to address him, the stranger -at length accosted the young man. - -"A fair evening this, sir," said he, "and just cool enough to make a -brisk ride pleasant." - -O'Connor assented drily, and without waiting for a renewal of the -conversation, spurred his horse into a canter, with the intention of -leaving his new companion behind. That personage was not, however, so -easily to be shaken off; he, in turn, put his horse to precisely the -same pace, and remarked composedly,-- - -"I see, sir, you wish to make the most of the light we've left us; dark -riding, they say, is dangerous riding hereabout. I suppose you ride for -the city?" - -O'Connor made no answer. - -"I presume you make Dublin your halting-place?" repeated the man. - -"You are at liberty, sir," replied O'Connor, somewhat sharply, "to -presume what you please; I have good reasons, however, for not caring -to bandy words with strangers. Where I rest for the night cannot -concern anybody but myself." - -"No offence, sir--no offence meant," replied the man, in the same even -tone, "and I hope none taken." - -A silence of some minutes ensued, during which O'Connor suddenly -slackened his horse's pace to a walk. The stranger made a corresponding -alteration in that of his. - -"Your pace, sir, is mine," observed the stranger. "We may as well -breathe our beasts a little." - -Another pause followed, which was at length broken by the stranger's -observing,-- - -"A lucky chance, in truth. A comrade is an important acquisition in -such a ride as ours promises to be." - -"I already have one of my own choosing," replied O'Connor drily; "I -ride attended." - -"And so do I," continued the other, "and doubtless our trusty squires -are just as happy in the rencounter as are their masters." - -A considerable silence ensued, which at length was broken by the -stranger. - -"Your reserve, sir," said he, "as well as the hour at which you travel, -leads me to conjecture that we are both bound on the same errand. Am I -understood?" - -"You must speak more plainly if you would be so," replied O'Connor. - -"Well, then," resumed he, "I half believe that we shall meet -to-night--where it is no sin to speak loyalty." - -"Still, sir, you leave me in the dark as to your meaning," replied -O'Connor. - -"At a certain well of sweet water," said the man with deliberate -significance--"is it not so--eh--am I right?" - -"No, sir," replied O'Connor, "your sagacity is at fault; or else, it -may be, your wit is too subtle, or mine too dull; for, if your -conjectures be correct, I cannot comprehend your meaning--nor indeed is -it very important that I should." - -"Well, sir," replied he, "I am seldom wrong when I hazard a guess of -this kind; but no matter--if we meet we shall be better friends, I -promise you." - -They had now reached the little town of Chapelizod, and darkness had -closed in. At the door of a hovel, from which streamed a strong red -light, the stranger drew his bridle, and called for a cup of water. A -ragged urchin brought it forth. - -"_Pax Domini vobiscum_," said the stranger, restoring the vessel, and -looking upward steadfastly for a minute, as if in mental prayer, he -raised his hat, and in doing so exhibited the monkish tonsure upon his -head; and as he sate there motionless upon his horse, with his sable -cloak wrapped in ample folds about him, and the strong red light from -the hovel door falling upon his thin and well-marked features, bringing -into strong relief the prominences of his form and attire, and shining -full upon the drooping head of the tired steed which he bestrode--this -equestrian figure might have furnished no unworthy study for the pencil -of Schalken. - -In a few minutes they were again riding side by side along the street -of the straggling little town. - -"I perceive, sir," said O'Connor, "that you are a clergyman. Unless -this dim light deceives me, I saw the tonsure when you raised your hat -just now." - -"Your eyes deceived you not--I am one of a religious order," replied -the man, "and perchance not on that account a more acceptable companion -to you." - -"Indeed you wrong me, reverend sir," said O'Connor. "I owe you an -apology for receiving your advances as I have done; but experience has -taught me caution; and until I know something of those whom I encounter -on the highway, I hold with them as little communication as I can well -avoid. So far from being the less acceptable a companion to me by -reason of your sacred office, believe me, you need no better -recommendation. I am myself an humble child of the true Church; and her -ministers have never claimed respect from me in vain." - -The priest looked searchingly at the young man; but the light afforded -but an imperfect scrutiny. - -"You say, sir," rejoined he after a pause, "that you acknowledge our -father of Rome--that you are one of those who eschew heresy, and cling -constantly to the old true faith--that you are free from the mortal -taint of Protestant infidelity." - -"That do I with my whole heart," rejoined O'Connor. - -"Are you, moreover, one of those who still look with a holy confidence -to the return of better days? When the present order of things, this -usurped government and abused authority, shall pass away like a dark -dream, and fly before the glory of returning truth. Do you look for the -restoration of the royal heritage to its rightful owner, and of these -afflicted countries to the bosom of mother Church?" - -"Happy were I to see these things accomplished," rejoined O'Connor; -"but I hold their achievement, except by the intervention of Almighty -Providence, impossible. Methinks we have in Ireland neither the spirit -nor the power to do it. The people are heartbroken; and so far from -coming to the field in this quarrel, they dare not even speak of it -above their breath." - -"Young man, you speak as one without understanding. You know not this -people of Ireland of whom you speak. Believe me, sir, the spirit to -right these things is deep and strong in the bosoms of the people. What -though they do not cry aloud in agony for vengeance, are they therefore -content, and at their heart's ease? - - "'Quamvis tacet Hermogenes, cantor tamen atque, - Optimus est modulator.' - -"Their silence is not dumbness--you shall hear them speak plainly yet." - -"Well, it may be so," rejoined O'Connor; "but be the people ever so -willing, another difficulty arises--where are the men to lead them -on?--who are they?" - -The priest again looked quickly and suspiciously at the speaker; but -the gloom prevented his discerning the features of his companion. He -became silent--perhaps half-repenting his momentary candour, and rode -slowly forward by O'Connor's side, until they had reached the extremity -of the town. The priest then abruptly said,-- - -"I find, sir, I have been wrong in my conjecture. Our paths at this -point diverge, I believe. You pursue your way by the river's side, and -I take mine to the left. Do not follow me. If you be what you represent -yourself, my command will be sufficient to prevent your doing so; if -otherwise, I ride armed, and can enforce what I conceive necessary to -my safety. Farewell." - -And so saying, the priest turned his horse's head in the direction -which he had intimated, rode up the steep ascent which loomed over the -narrow level by the river's side; and his dark form quickly disappeared -beyond the brow of the dusky hill. O'Connor's eyes instinctively -followed the retreating figure of his companion, until it was lost in -the profound darkness; and then looking back for any dim intimation of -the presence of his trusty follower, he beheld nothing but the dark -void. He listened; but no sound of horse's hoofs betokened pursuit. He -shouted--he called upon his squire by name; but all in vain; and at -length, after straining his voice to its utmost pitch for six or ten -minutes without eliciting any other reply than the prolonged barking of -half the village curs in Chapelizod, he turned away, and pursued his -course alone, consoling himself with the reflection that his attendant -was at least as well acquainted with the way as was he himself, and -that he could not fail to reach the "Cock and Anchor" whenever he -pleased to exert himself for the purpose. - - - - -CHAPTER XLII. - -THE SQUIRES. - - -O'Connor had scarcely been joined by the priest, when Larry Toole, who -jogged quietly on, pipe in mouth, behind his master, was accosted by -his reverence's servant, a stout, clean-limbed fellow, arrayed in blue -frieze, who rode a large, ill-made horse, and bumped listlessly along -at that easy swinging jog at which our southern farmers are wont to -ride. The fellow had a shrewd eye, and a pleasant countenance withal to -look upon, and might be in years some five or six and thirty. - -"God save you, neighbour," said he. - -"God save you kindly," rejoined Mr. Toole graciously. - -"A plisint evenin' for a quiet bit iv a smoke," rejoined the stranger. - -"None better," rejoined Larry, scanning the stranger's proportions, to -see whether, in his own phrase, "he liked his cut." The scrutiny -evidently resulted favourably, for Larry removed his pipe, and handing -it to his new acquaintance, observed courteously, "Maybe you'd take a -draw, neighbour." - -"I thank you kindly," said the stranger, as he transferred the utensil -from Larry's mouth to his own. "It's turning cowld, I think. I wish to -the Lord we had a dhrop iv something to warm us," observed he, speaking -out of the unoccupied corner of his mouth. - -"We'll be in Chapelizod, plase God," said Larry Toole, "in half an -hour, an' if ould Tim Delany isn't gone undher the daisies, maybe we -won't have a taste iv his best." - -"Are _you_ follyin' that gintleman?" inquired the stranger, with his -pipe indicating O'Connor, "that gintleman that the masther is talking -to?" - -"I am _so_," rejoined Larry promptly, "an' a good gintleman he is; an' -that's your masther there. What sort is he?" - -"Oh, good enough, as masthers goes--no way surprisin' one way or th' -other." - -"Where are you goin' to?" pursued Larry. - -"I never axed, bedad," rejoined the man, "only to folly on, wherever he -goes--an' divil a hair I care where that is. What way are you two -goin'?" - -"To Dublin, to be sure," rejoined Larry. "I wisht we wor there now. -What the divil makes him ride so unaiqual--sometimes cantherin', and -other times mostly walkin'--it's mighty nansinsical, so it is." - -"By gorra, I don't know, anless fancy alone," rejoined the stranger. - -"Here's your pipe," continued he, after some pause, "an' I thank you -kindly, misther--misther--how's this they call you?" - -"Misther Larry Toole is the name I was christened by," rejoined the -gentleman so interrogated. - -"An' a rale illegant name it is," replied the stranger. "The Tooles is -a royal family, an' may the Lord restore them to their rights." - -"Amen, bedad," rejoined Larry devoutly. - -"My name's Ned Mollowney," continued he, anticipating Larry's -interrogatory, "from the town of Ballydun, the plisintest spot in the -beautiful county iv Tipperary. There isn't it's aquil out for fine men -and purty girls." Larry sighed. - -The conversation then took that romantic turn which best suited the -melancholy chivalry of Larry's mind, after which the current of their -mutual discoursing, by the attraction of irresistible association, led -them, as they approached the little village, once more into suggestive -commentaries upon the bitter cold, and sundry pleasant speculations -respecting the creature comforts which awaited them under Tim Delany's -genial roof-tree. - -"The holy saints be praised," said Ned Mollowney, "we're in the village -at last. The tellin' iv stories is the dhryest work that ever a boy -tuck in hand. My mouth is like a cindher all as one." - -"Tim Delany's is the second house beyant that wind in the street," said -Larry, pointing down the road as they advanced. "We'll jist get down -for a minute or two, an' have somethin' warrum by the fire; we'll -overtake the gintlemen asy enough." - -"I'm agreeable, Mr. Toole," said the accommodating Ned Mollowney. "Let -the gintlemen take care iv themselves. They're come to an age when they -ought to know what they're about." - -"This is it," said Larry, checking his horse before a low thatched -house, from whose doorway the cheerful light was gleaming upon the -bushes opposite. - -The two worthies dismounted, and entered the humble place of -entertainment. Tim Delany's company was singularly fascinating, and his -liquor was, if possible, more so--besides, the evening was chill, and -his hearth blazed with a fire, the very sight of which made the blood -circulate freely, and the finger-tops grow warm. Larry Toole was -prepossessed in favour of Ned Mollowney, and Ned Mollowney had fallen -in love with Larry Toole, so that it is hardly to be wondered at that -the two gentlemen yielded to the combined seduction of their situation, -and seated themselves snugly by the fire, each with his due allowance -of stimulating liquor, and with a very vague and uncertain kind of -belief in the likelihood of their following their masters respectively -until they had made themselves particularly comfortable. It was not -until after nearly two hours of blissful communion with his delectable -companion, that Larry Toole suddenly bethought him of the fact that he -had allowed his master, at the lowest calculation, time enough to have -ridden to and from the "Cock and Anchor" at least half a dozen times. -He, therefore, hurriedly bade good-night, with many a fond vow of -eternal friendship for the two companions of his princely revelry, -mounted his horse with some little difficulty, and becoming every -moment more and more confused, and less and less perpendicular, found -himself at length--with an indistinct remembrance of having had several -hundred falls upon every possible part of his body, and upon every -possible geological substance, from soft alluvial mud up to plain -lime-stone, during the course of his progress--within the brick -precincts of the city. The horse, with an instinctive contempt for Mr. -Toole's judgment, wholly disregarded that gentleman's vehement appeals -to the bridle, and quietly pursued his well-known way to the hostelry -of the "Cock and Anchor." - -Our honest friend had hardly dismounted, which he did with one eye -closed, and a hiccough, and a happy smile which mournfully contrasted -with his filthy and battered condition, when he at once became -absolutely insensible, from which condition he did not recover till -next morning, when he found himself partially in bed, quite undressed, -with the exception of his breeches, boots, and spurs, which he had -forgotten to remove, and which latter, along with his feet, he had -deposited upon the pillow, allowing his head to slope gently downward -towards the foot of the bed. - -As soon as Mr. Toole had ascertained where he was, and begun to -recollect how he came there, he removed his legs from the pillow, and -softly slid upon the floor. His first solicitude was for his clothes, -the spattered and villainous condition of which appalled him; his next -was to endeavour to remember whether or not his master had witnessed -his weakness. Absorbed in this severe effort of memory, he sat upon the -bedside, gazing upon the floor, and scratching his head, when the door -opened, and his friend the groom entered the chamber. - -"I say, old gentleman, you've been having a little bit of a spree," -observed he, gazing pleasantly upon the disconsolate figure of the -little man, who sat in his shirt and jack-boots, staring at him with a -woe-begone and bewildered air. "Why, you had a bushel of mud about your -body when you came in, and no hat at all. Well, you _had_ a pleasant -night of it--there's no denying that." - -"No hat;" said Larry desolately. "It isn't possible I dropped my hat -off my head unknownest. Bloody wars, my hat! is it gone in airnest?" - -"Yes, young gentleman, you came here bareheaded. The hat _is_ gone, and -that's a fact," replied the groom. - -"I thought my coat was bad enough; but--oh! blur-anagers, my hat!" -ejaculated Larry with abandonment. "Bad luck go with the -liquor--tare-an-ouns, my hat!" - -"There's a shoe off the horse," observed the groom; "and the seat is -gone out of your breeches as clean as if it never was in it. Well, but -you _had_ a pleasant evening of it--you had." - -"An' my breeches desthroyed--ruined beyant cure! See, Tom Berry, take a -blundherbuz, will you, and put me out of pain at wonst. My breeches! -Oh, divil go with the liquor! Holy Moses, is it possible?--my -breeches!" - -In an agony of contrition and desperate remorse, Larry Toole clasped -his hands over his eyes and remained for some minutes silent; at length -he said-- - -"An' what did the masther say? Don't be keeping me in pain--out with it -at wonst." - -"What master?" inquired the groom. - -"What masther?" echoed Mr. Toole--"why Mr. O'Connor, to be sure." - -"I'm sure I can't say," replied the man; "I have not seen him this -month." - -"Wasn't he here before me last night?" inquired the little man. - -"No, nor after neither," replied his visitor. - -"Do you mane to tell me that he's not in the house at all?" -interrogated Mr. Toole. - -"Yes," replied he, "Mr. O'Connor is _not_ in the house; the horse did -not cross the yard this month. Will that do you?" - -"Be the hoky," said Larry, "that's exthramely quare. But are you raly -sure and quite sartin?" - -"Yes, I tell you yes," replied he. - -"Well, well," said Mr. Toole, "but that puts me to the divil's rounds -to undherstand it--not come at all. What in the world's gone with -him--not come--where else could he go to? Begorra, the whole iv the -occurrences iv last night is a blaggard mysthery. What the divil's gone -with him--where is he at all?--why couldn't he wait a bit for me an' -I'd iv tuck the best care iv him? but gintlemen is always anruly. What -the divil's keepin' him? I wouldn't be surprised if he made a baste iv -himself in some public-house last night. A man ought never to take a -dhrop more than jist what makes him plisant--bad luck to it. Lend me a -breeches, an' I'll pray for you all the rest of my days. I must go out -at wonst an' look for him; maybe he's at Mr. Audley's lodgings--ay, -sure enough, it's there he is. Bad luck to the liquor. Why the divil -did I let him go alone? Oh! sweet bad luck to it," he continued in -fierce anguish, as he held up the muddy wreck of his favourite coat -before his aching eyes--"my elegant coat--bad luck to it again--an' my -beautiful hat--once more bad luck to it; an' my breeches--oh! it's -fairly past bearin'--my elegant breeches! Bad luck to it for a -threacherous drop--an' the masther lost, and no one knows what's done -with him. Up with that poker, I tell you, and blow my brains out at -once; there's nothing before me in this life but the divil's own -delight--finish me, I tell you, and let me rest in the shade. I'll -never hould up my head again, there's no use in purtendin'. Oh! bad -luck to the dhrink!" - -In this distracted frame of mind did Larry continue for nearly an hour, -after which, with the aid of some contributions from the wardrobe of -honest Tom Berry, he clothed himself, and went forth in quest of his -master. - - - - -CHAPTER XLIII. - -THE WILD WOOD--THE OLD MANSION-HOUSE OF FINISKEA--SECRETS, AND A -SURPRISE. - - -O'Connor pursued his way towards the city, following the broken -horse-track, which then traversed the low grounds which lie upon the -left bank of the Liffey. The Phoenix Park, or, as it was then called, -the Royal Park, was at the time of which we write a much wilder place -than it now is. There were no trim plantations nor stately clumps of -tufted trees, no signs of care or culture. Broad patches of shaggy -thorn spread with little interruption over the grounds, and regular -roads were then unknown. The darkness became momentarily deeper and -more deep as O'Connor pursued his solitary way; and the difficulty of -proceeding grew every instant greater, for the heavy rains had -interrupted his path with deep sloughs and pools, which became at -length so frequent, and so difficult of passage, that he was fain to -turn from the ordinary track, and seek an easier path along the high -grounds which overhang the river. The close screen of the wild gnarled -thorns which covered the upper level on which he now moved, still -further deepened the darkness; and he became at length so entirely -involved in the pitchy gloom, that he dismounted, and taking his horse -by the head, led him forward through the tangled brake, and under the -knotted branches of the old hoary thorns, stumbling among the briers -and the crooked roots, and every moment encountering the sudden -obstruction, either of some stooping branch, or the trunk of one of the -old trees; so that altogether his progress was as tedious and -unpleasant as it well could be. His annoyance became the greater as he -proceeded; for he was so often compelled to turn aside, and change his -course, to avoid these interruptions, that in the utter darkness he -began to grow entirely uncertain whether or not he was moving in the -right direction. The more he paused, and the oftener he reflected, the -more entirely puzzled and bewildered did he become. Glad indeed would -he have been that he had followed the track upon which he had at first -entered, and run the hazard of all the sloughs and pools which crossed -it; but he was now embarked in another route; and even had he desired -it, so perplexed was he, that he could not have effected his retreat. -Fully alive to the ridiculousness, as well as the annoyance of his -situation, he slowly and painfully stumbled forward, conscious that if -only he could move for half an hour or thereabout consistently in the -same direction, he must disengage himself in some quarter or another -from the entanglement in which he was involved. In vain he looked round -him; nothing but entire darkness encountered him. In vain he listened -for any sound which might intimate the neighbourhood of any living -thing. Nothing but the hushed soughing of the evening breeze through -the old boughs was audible; and he was forced to continue his route in -the same troublesome uncertainty. - -At length he saw, or thought he saw, a red light gleaming through the -trees. It disappeared--it came again. He stopped, uncertain whether it -was one of those fitful marsh-fires which but mock the perplexity of -benighted travellers; but no--this light shone clearly, and with a -steady beam, through the branches; and towards it he directed his -steps, losing it now, and again recovering it, till at length, after a -longer probation than he had at first expected, he gained a clear space -of ground, intersected only by a few broken hedges and ditches, but -free from the close wood which had so entirely darkened his advance. In -this position he was enabled to discern that the light which had guided -him streamed from the window of an old shattered house, partially -surrounded by a dilapidated wall, having a few ruinous outhouses -attached to it. In this building he beheld the old mansion-house of -Finiskea, which then occupied the ground on which at present stands the -powder-magazine, and which, by a slight alteration in sound, though -without any analogy in meaning, has given its name to the Phoenix Park. -The light streamed through the diamond panes of a narrow casement; and -still leading his horse, O'Connor made his way over the broken fences -towards the old house. As he approached, he perceived several figures -moving to and fro in the chamber from which the light issued, and -detected, or thought he did so, among them the remarkable form of the -priest who had lately been his companion upon the road. As he advanced, -someone inside drew a curtain across the window, though, as O'Connor -conjectured, wholly unaware of his approach, and thus precluded any -further reconnoitering on his part. - -"At all events," thought he, "they can spare me some one to put me upon -my way. They can hardly complain if I intrude upon such an errand." - -With this reflection, he led his horse round the corner of the building -to the door, which was sheltered by a small porch roofed with tiles. By -the faint light, which in the open space made objects partially -discernible, he perceived two men, as it appeared to him, fast -asleep--half sitting and half lying on the low step of the door. He had -just come near enough to accost them, when, somewhat to his surprise, -he was seized from behind in a powerful grip, and his arms pinioned to -his sides. A single antagonist he would easily have shaken off; but a -reinforcement was at hand. - -"Up, boys--be stirring--open the door," cried the hoarse voice of the -person who held O'Connor. - -The two figures started to their feet; their strength, combined with -the efforts of his first assailant, effectually mastered O'Connor, and -one of them shoved the door open. - -"Pretty watch you keep," said he, as the party hurried their prisoner, -wholly without the power of resistance, into the house. - -Three or four powerful, large-limbed fellows, well armed, were seated -in the hall, and arose on his entrance. O'Connor saw that resistance -against such odds were idle, and resolved patiently to submit to the -issue, whatever it might be. - -"Gentlemen that's caught peeping is sometimes made to see more than -they have a mind to," observed one of O'Connor's conductors. - -Another removed his sword, and having satisfied himself that he had not -any other weapon upon his person, observed,-- - -"You may let his elbows loose; but jist keep him tight by the collar." - -"Let the gentlemen know there's a bird limed," observed the first -speaker; and one of the others passed from the narrow hall to execute -the mission. - -After some little delay, O'Connor, who awaited the result with more of -curiosity and impatience than of alarm, was conducted by two of the -armed men who had secured him through a large passage terminating in a -chamber, which they also traversed, and by a second door at its far -extremity found entrance into a rude but spacious apartment, floored -with tiles, and with a low ceiling of dark plank, supported by -ponderous beams. A large wood fire burned in the hearth, beside which -some half dozen men were congregated; several others were seated by a -massive table, on which were writing materials, with which two or three -of them were busily employed; a number of open letters were also strewn -upon it, and here and there a brace of horse-pistols or a carbine -showed that the party felt neither very secure, nor very much disposed -to surrender without a struggle, should their worst anticipations be -realized, in any attempt to surprise them. - -Most of those who were present bore, in their disordered dress and -mud-soiled boots, the evidence of recent travel. They were lighted -chiefly by the broad, uncertain gleam of the blazing wood fire, in -which the misty flame of two or three wretched candles which burned -upon the table shone pale and dim as the last stars of night in the red -dawn of an autumnal sun. In this strong and ruddy light the groups of -figures, variously attired, some seated by the table, and others -standing with their ample cloaks still folded around them, acquired by -the contrast of broad light and shade a character of picturesqueness -which had in it something wild and imposing. This singular tableau -occupied the further end of the room, which was one of considerable -length, and as the prisoner was led forward to the bar of the tribunal, -those who composed it eyed him sternly and fixedly. - -"Bind his hands fast," said a lean and dark-featured man, with a -singularly forbidding aspect and a deep, stern voice, who sat at the -head of the table with a pile of papers beside him. Spite of O'Connor's -struggles, the order was speedily executed, and with such good-will -that the blood almost started from his nails. - -"Now, sir," continued the same speaker, "who are you, and what may your -errand be?" - -"Before I answer your questions you must satisfy me that you have -authority to ask them," replied O'Connor. "Who, I pray, are you, who -dare to seize the person, and to bind the limbs of a free man? I shall -know this ere one of your questions shall have a reply." - -"I have seen you, young sir, before--scarce an hour since," observed -one of those who stood by the hearth. "Look at me, and say do you -remember my features?" - -"I do," replied O'Connor, who had no difficulty in recognizing those of -the priest who had parted from him so abruptly on that evening--"of -course I recollect your face; we rode side by side from Leixlip -to-day." - -"You recollect my caution too--you cannot have forgotten that," -continued the priest, menacingly. "You know how peremptorily I warned -you against following me, yet you have dogged me here; on your own head -be the consequences--the fool shall perish in his folly." - -"I have _not_ dogged you here, sir," replied O'Connor; "I seek my way -to Dublin. The river banks are so soft that a horse had better swim -than seek to keep them; I therefore took the upper ground, and after -losing myself among the woods, at length saw a light, reached it, and -here I am." - -The priest heard the statement with a sinister smile. - -"A truce to these inventions, sir," said he. "It is indeed _possible_ -that you speak the truth, but it is in the highest degree _probable_ -that you lie; it is, in a word, plain--satisfactorily plain, that you -followed me hither, as I suspected you might have done; you have dogged -me, sir, and you have seen all that you sought to behold; you have seen -my place of destination and my company. I care not with what motive you -have acted--that is between yourself and your Maker. If you are a spy, -which I shrewdly suspect, Providence has defeated your treason, and -punished the traitor; if mere curiosity impelled you, you will remember -that ill-directed curiosity was the sin which brought death upon -mankind, and cease to wonder that its fruits may be bitter to yourself. -What say you, young man?" - -"I have told you plainly how I happened to reach this place," replied -O'Connor; "I have told you once--I will repeat the statement no more; -and once again I ask, on what authority you question me, and dare thus -to bind my hands and keep me here against my will?" - -"Authority sufficient to satisfy our own consciences," rejoined the -priest. "The responsibility rests not upon you; enough it is for you to -know that we have the power to detain you, and that we exercise that -power, as we most probably shall _another_, still less conducive to -your comfort." - -"You have the power to make me captive, I admit," rejoined -O'Connor--"you have the power to murder me, as you threaten, but though -power to keep or kill is all the justification a robber or a bravo -needs, methinks such an argument should hardly satisfy a consecrated -minister of Christ." - -The expression with which the priest regarded the young man grew -blacker and more truculent at this rebuke, and after a silence of a few -seconds he replied,-- - -"We are doubly authorized in what we do--ay, trebly warranted, young -traitor. God Almighty has given us the instinct of self-defence, which -in a righteous cause it is laudable to consult and indulge; the Church, -too, tells us in these times to deal strictly with the malignant -persecutors of God's truth; and lastly, we have a royal warranty--the -authority of the rightful king of these realms, investing us with -powers to deal summarily with rebels and traitors. Let this satisfy -you." - -"I honour the king," rejoined O'Connor, "as truly as any man here, -seeing that _my_ father lost all in the service of his illustrious -sire, but I need some more satisfactory assurance of his delegated -authority than the bare assertion of a violent man, of whom I know -absolutely nothing, and until you show me some instrument empowering -you to act thus, I will not acknowledge your competency to subject me -to an examination, and still resolutely protest against your detaining -me here." - -"You refuse, then, to answer our questions?" said the hard-featured -little person who sat at the far end of the table. - -"Until you show authority to put them, I peremptorily _do_ refuse to -answer them," replied the young man. - -The little person looked expressively at the priest, who appeared to -hold a high influence among the party. He answered the look by -saying,-- - -"His blood be upon his own head." - -"Nay, not so fast, holy father; let us debate upon this matter for a -few minutes, ere we execute sentence," said a singularly noble-looking -man who stood beside the priest. "Remove the prisoner," he added, with -a voice of command, "and keep him strictly guarded." - -"Well, be it so," said he, reluctantly. - -The little man who sat at the head of the table made a gesture to those -who guarded O'Connor, and the order thus given and sanctioned was at -once carried into execution. - - - - -CHAPTER XLIV. - -THE DOOM. - - -The young man was conveyed from the chamber by his two athletic -conductors, the door closed upon the deliberations of the stern -tribunal who were just about to debate upon the question of his life or -death, and he was led round the corner of a lobby, a few steps from the -chamber where his judges sat; a stout door in the wall was pushed open -and he himself thrust through it into a cold, empty apartment, in -perfect darkness, and the door shut and barred behind him. - -Here, in solitude and darkness, the horrors of his situation rushed -upon him with tremendous and overwhelming reality. His life was in the -hands of fierce and relentless men, by whom, he had little doubt, he -was already judged and condemned; bound and helpless, he must await, -without the power of hastening or of deferring his fate by a single -minute, the cold-blooded deliberations of the conclave who sat within. -Unable even to hear the progress of the debate on whose result his life -was suspended, a faint and dizzy sickness came upon him, and the cold -dew burst from every pore; ghastly, shapeless images of horror hurried -with sightless speed across his mind, and his brain throbbed with the -fearful excitement of madness. With a desperate effort he roused his -energies; but what could human ingenuity, even sharpened by the -presence of urgent and terrific danger, suggest or devise? His hands -were firmly bound behind his back; in vain he tugged with all his -strength, in the fruitless hope of disengaging the cords which crushed -them together. He groaned in downright agony as, strength and hope -exhausted, he gave up the desperate attempt; nothing then could be -done; there remained for him no hope--no chance. In this horrible -condition he walked with slow steps to and fro in the dark chamber, in -vain endeavouring to compose his terrible agitation. - -"Were my hands but free," thought he, "I should let the villains know -that against any odds a resolute man may sell his life dearly. But it -is in vain to struggle; they have bound me here but too securely." - - [Illustration: "He made his way to the aperture." - _To face page 223._] - -Thus saying, he leaned himself against the partition, to await, -passively, the event which he knew could not be far distant. The -surface against which he leaned was not that of the wall--it yielded -slightly to his pressure--it was a door. With his knee and shoulder he -easily forced it open, and entered another chamber, at the far-side of -which he distinctly saw a stream of light, which, passing through a -chink, fell upon the opposite wall, and, at the same time, he clearly -heard the muffled sound of voices in debate. He made his way to the -aperture through which the light found entrance, and as he did so, the -sound of the voices fell more and more distinctly upon his ear. A small -square, of about two feet each way, was cut in the wall, affording an -orifice through which, probably, the closet in which he stood was -imperfectly lighted in the daytime. A plank shutter was closed over -this, and barred upon the outside, through the imperfect joints of -which the light had found its way, and O'Connor now scanned the -contents of the outer chamber. It was that in which the assembly, in -whose presence he had, but a few minutes before, been standing, were -congregated. A low, broad-shouldered man, whose dress was that of -mourning, and who wore his own hair, which descended in meagre ringlets -of black upon either side, leaving the bald summit of his head exposed, -and who added to the singularity of his appearance not a little by a -long, thick beard, which covered his chin and upper lip--this man, who -sat nearly opposite to the opening through which O'Connor looked, was -speaking and addressing himself to some person who stood, as it -appeared, divided by little more than the thickness of the wall from -the party whose life he was debating. - -"And against all this," continued the speaker, "what weighs the life of -one man--one life, at best useless to the country, and useless to the -king--at _best_, I say? What came we here for? No light matter to take -in hand, sirs; to be pursued with no small risk; each comes hither, -_cinctus gladio_, in the cause of the king. That cause with our own -lives we are bound to maintain; and why not, if need be, at the cost of -the lives of others? No good can come of sparing this fellow--at the -best, no advantage to the cause: and, on the other hand, should he -prove a traitor, a spy, or even an idle babbler, the heaviest damage -may befall us. Tush, tush, gentlemen, it is ill straining at gnats in -such times. We are here a court-martial, or no court at all. If I find -that such dangerous vacillation as this carries it in your councils, I -shall, for one, henceforward hang my sword over the mantel-piece, and -obey the new laws. What! one life against such a risk--one execution, -to save the cause and secure us all. To us, who have served in the -king's wars, and hanged rebels by the round dozen--even on suspicion of -being so--such indecision seems incredible. There ought not to be two -words about the matter. Put him to death." - -Having thus acquitted himself, this somewhat unattractive personage -applied himself, with much industry and absorption, to the task of -chopping, shredding, rolling up, and otherwise preparing a piece of -tobacco for the bowl of his pipe. - -"I confess," said someone whom O'Connor could not see, "that in -pleading what may be said on behalf of this young man, I have no ground -to go upon beyond a mere instinctive belief in the poor fellow's -honesty, and in the truth of his story." - -"Pardon me, sir," replied one in whose voice O'Connor thought he -recognized that of the priest, "if I say, that to act upon such -fanciful impressions, as if they were grounded upon evidence, were, in -nine cases out of every ten, the most transcendent and mischievous -folly. I repeat my own conviction, upon something like satisfactory -evidence, that he is _not_ honest. I talked with the fellow this -evening--perhaps a little too freely--but in that conference, if he -lied not, I learned that he belonged to that most dangerous class--the -worst with whom we have to contend--the lukewarm, professing, passive -Catholics--the very stuff of which the worst kind of spies and -informers are made. He, no doubt, guessed, from what I said--for, to be -plain with you, I spoke too freely by a great deal, in the belief, I -know not how assumed, that he was one of ourselves--he guessed, I say, -something of the nature of my mission, and tracked me hither--at all -events, by some strange coincidence, hither he came. It is for you to -weigh the question of probabilities." - -"It matters not, in my mind, why or how he came hither," observed the -ill-favoured gentleman, who sate at the head of the table; "he _is_ -here, and he hath seen our meeting, and could identify many of us. This -is too large a confidence to repose in a stranger, and I for one do not -like it, and therefore I say let him be killed without any more parley -or debate." - -The old man paused, and a silence followed. With an agonized attention, -O'Connor listened for one word or movement of dissent; it came not. - -"All agreed?" said the bearded hero, preparing to light his tobacco -pipe at the candle. "Well, so I expected." - -The little man who had spoken before him knocked sharply with the butt -of a pistol upon the table, and O'Connor heard the door of the room -open. The same person beckoned with his hand, and one of the stalwart -men who had assisted in securing him, advanced to the foot of the -board. - -"Let a grave be digged in the orchard," said he, "and when it is ready, -bring the prisoner out and despatch him, Let it be all done and the -grave closed in half an hour." - -The man made a rude obeisance, and left the room in silence. - -Bound as he was, O'Connor traced the four walls of the room, in the -vague hope that he might discover some other outlet from the chamber -than that which he had just entered. But in vain; nothing encountered -him but the hard, cold wall; and even had it been otherwise, thus -helplessly manacled, what would it have availed him? He passed into the -room into which he had been first thrust by the two guards, and in a -state little short of frenzy, he cast himself upon the floor. - -"Oh God!" said he, "it is terrible to see death thus creeping toward -me, and not to have the power to help myself. I am doomed--my life -already devoted, and before another hour I shall lie under the clay, a -corpse. Is there nothing to be done--no hope, no chance? Oh, God! -nothing!" - -As he lay in this strong agony, he heard, or thought he heard, the -clank of the spade upon the stony soil without. The work was begun--the -grave was opened. Madly he strained at the cords--he tugged with more -than human might--but all in vain. Still with horrible monotony he -heard the clank of the iron mattock tinkling and clanking in the -gravelly soil. Oh! that he could have stopped his ears to exclude the -maddening sound. The pulses smote upon his brain like floods of fire. -With closed eyes, and teeth set, and hands desperately clenched, he -drew himself together, in the awful spasms of uncontrollable horror. -Suddenly this fearful paroxysm departed, and a kind of awful calm -supervened. It was no dull insensibility to his real situation, but a -certain collectedness and calm self-possession, which enabled him to -behold the grim adversary of human kind, even arrayed in all the -terrors of his nearest approach, with a steady eye. - -"After all, when all's done, what have I to lose? Life had no more joys -for me--happy I could never more have been. Why should the miserable -dread death, and cling to life like cowards? What is it? A brief -struggle--the agony of a few minutes--the instinctive yearnings of our -nature after life; and this over, comes rest--eternal quiet." - -He then endeavoured, in prayer, earnestly to commend his spirit to its -Maker. While thus employed he heard steps upon the hard tiles of the -passage. His heart swelled as though it would burst. He rightly guessed -their mission. The bolt was slowly drawn; the dusky light of a lantern -streamed into the room, and revealed upon the threshold the forms of -three tall men. - -"Lift him up--rise him, boys," said he who carried the lantern. - -"You must come with us," said one of the two who advanced to O'Connor. - -Resistance was fruitless, and he offered none. A cold, sick, -overwhelming horror unstrung his joints and dimmed his sight. He -suffered them to lead him passively from the room. - - - - -CHAPTER XLV. - -THE MAN IN THE CLOAK--AND HIS BED-CHAMBER. - - -As O'Connor approached the outer door through which he was to pass to -certain and speedy death, it were not easy to describe or analyze his -sensations; every object he beheld in the brief glance he cast around -him as he passed along the hall appeared invested with a strangely -sharp and vivid intensity of distinctness, and had in its aspect -something indefinably spectral and ghastly--like things beheld under -the terrific spell of a waking nightmare. His tremendous situation -seemed to him something unreal, incredible; he walked in an appalling -dream; in vain he strove to fix his thoughts myriads and myriads of -scenes and incidents, never remembered since childhood's days, now with -strange distinctness and wild rapidity whirled through his brain. The -hall-door stood half open, and the fellow who led the way had almost -reached it, when it was on a sudden thrown wide, and a figure, muffled -in a cloak, confronted the funeral procession. - -The foremost man raised the ponderous weapon which he carried, and held -it poised in the air, ready to shiver the head of the intruder should -he venture to advance--the two guards who held O'Connor halted at the -same time. - -"How's this, Cormack!" said the stranger. "Do you lift your weapon -against the life of a friend?--rub your eyes and waken--how is it you -cannot know me?--you've been drinking, sirrah." - -At the sound of the speaker's voice the man at once lowered his hatchet -and withdrew, a little sulkily, like a rebuked mastiff. - -"What means all this?" continued he in the cloak, looking searchingly -at the party in the rear; "whom have we got here?--where made you this -prisoner? So, so--this must be looked to. How were you about to deal -with him, fellow?" he added, addressing himself to him whom he had -first encountered. - -"According to orders, captain," replied the man, doggedly. - -"And how may that have been?" interrogated the gentleman in the cloak. - -"_End_ him," replied he, sulkily. - -"Has he been before the council in the great parlour?" inquired the -stranger. - -"Yes, captain--long enough, too," replied the fellow. - -"And _they_ have ordered this execution?" added the newly arrived. - -"Yes, sir--who else? Come on, boys--bring him out, will you? Time is -running short," he added, addressing his comrades, and himself -approaching the door. - -"Re-conduct the prisoner to the council-board," said the stranger, in a -tone of command. - -Without a moment's hesitation they obeyed the order; and O'Connor, -followed by the muffled figure of the stranger, for the second time -entered the apartment where his relentless judges sate. - -The new-comer strode up the room to the table at which the self-styled -council were seated. - -"God save you, gentlemen," said he, "and prosper the good work ye have -taken in hand;" and thus speaking, he removed and cast upon the table -his hat and cloak, thereby revealing the square-built form and harsh -features of O'Hanlon. - -O'Connor no sooner recognized the traits of his mysterious -acquaintance, than he felt a hope which thrilled with a strange agony -of his heart--a hope--almost a conviction--that he should escape; and -unaccountable though it may appear, in this hope he felt more unmanned -and agitated than he had done but a few moments before, in the apparent -certainty of immediate and inevitable destruction. - -The salutation of O'Hanlon was warmly, almost enthusiastically, -returned, and after this interchange of friendly greeting, and a few -brief questions and answers touching comparatively indifferent matters, -he glanced toward O'Connor, and said,-- - -"I've so far presumed upon my favour with you, gentlemen, as to stay -your orders in respect of that young gentleman, whom, it would appear, -you have judged worthy of death. Death is a matter whose importance -I've never very much insisted upon--that you know--at least, several -among you, gentlemen, well know it, for you have seen me deal it -somewhat unsparingly when the cause required it; but I profess I do not -care in cool blood to take life upon insufficient reason. Life is -lightly taken; but once gone, who can restore it? Therefore, I think it -very meet that patient consideration should be had of all cases, when -such deliberation is possible and convenient, before proceeding to the -last irrevocable extremity. Pray you inform me upon what charges does -this youth stand convicted, that his life should be forfeit?" - -"It is briefly told," replied the priest. "On my way hither I -encountered him; we rode and conversed together; and conjecturing that -he travelled on the same errand as myself, I talked to him more freely -than in all discretion I ought to have done. I discovered my mistake, -and at Chapelizod I turned and left him, telling him with threats _not_ -to follow me; yet scarcely had I been here ten minutes, when this -gentleman is found lurking near the house--and about to enter it. He is -seized, bound, brought in here, and witnesses our assembly and -proceedings. Under these suspicious circumstances, and with the -knowledge of our meeting and its objects, were it wise to let him go? -Surely not so--but the veriest madness." - -"Young man," said O'Hanlon, turning to O'Connor, "what say you to -this?" - -"No more than what I already told these gentlemen--simply, that taking -the upper level to avoid the sloughs by the river side, I became in the -darkness entangled in the dense woods which cover these grounds, and at -length, after groping my way through the trees as best I might, arrived -by the merest chance at this place, and without the slightest -knowledge, or even suspicion, either that I was following the course -taken by that gentleman, or intruding myself upon any secret councils. -I have no more to say--this is the simple truth." - -"Well, gentlemen," said O'Hanlon, "you hear the prisoner's defence. -What think you?" - -"We have decided already, and he has now produced nothing new in his -favour. I see no reason why we should alter our decision," replied the -priest. - -"You would, then, put him to death?" inquired he. - -"Assuredly," replied the priest, calmly. - -"But this shall not be, gentlemen; he shall _not_ die. You shall slay -_me_ first," replied O'Hanlon. "I know this youth; and every word he -has spoken I believe. He is the son of one who risked his life a -hundred times, and lost all for the sake of the king and his -country--one who, throughout the desperate and fruitless struggles of -Irish loyalty, was in the field my constant comrade, and a braver and a -better one none ever need desire. The son of such a man shall not -perish by our hands; and for the risk of his talking elsewhere of this -night's adventure, I will be his surety, with my life, that he mentions -it to no one, and nowhere." - -A silence of some seconds followed this unexpected declaration. - -"Be it so, then," said the priest; "for my part, I offer no -resistance." - -"So say I," added the person who sat with the papers by him at the -extremity of the board. "On you, however, Captain O'Hanlon, rest the -whole responsibility of this act." - -"On me alone. Were there the possibility of treason in that youth, I -would myself perish ere I should move a hand to save him," replied -O'Hanlon. "I gladly take upon myself the whole accountability, and all -the consequences of the act." - -"Your life and liberty are yours, sir," said the priest, addressing -O'Connor; "see that you abuse neither to our prejudice. Unbind and let -the prisoner go." - -"Stay," said O'Hanlon. "Mr. O'Connor, I have one request to make." - -"It is granted ere it is made. What can I return you in exchange for my -life?" replied O'Connor. - -"I wish to speak with you to-night," continued O'Hanlon, "on matters -which concern you nearly. You will remain here--you can have a chamber. -Farewell for the present. Conduct Mr. O'Connor to my apartment," he -added, addressing the attendants, who were employed in loosening the -strained cords which bound his hands; and with this direction, O'Hanlon -mingled with the group at the hearth, and began to converse with them -in a low voice. - -O'Connor followed his guide through a narrow, damp-stained corridor, -with tiled flooring, and up a broad staircase, with heavy oaken -balustrades, and steps whose planks seemed worn by the tread of -centuries; and then along another passage, more cheerless still than -the first--several of the narrow windows, by which in the daytime it -was lighted, had now lost every vestige of glass, and even of the -wooden framework in which it had been fixed, and gave free admission to -the fitful night-wind, as well as to the straggling boughs of ivy which -mantled the old walls and clustered shelteringly about the ruined -casements. Screening the candle which he carried behind the flap of his -coat, to prevent its being extinguished by the gusts which somewhat -rudely swept the narrow passage, the man led O'Connor to a chamber, -which they both entered. It was not quite so cheerless as the desolate -condition of the approach to it might have warranted one in expecting; -a wood-fire, which had been recently replenished, blazed and crackled -briskly upon the hearth, and shed an uncertain but cheerful glow -through the recesses of the chamber. It was a spacious apartment, hung -with stamped leather, in many places stained and rotted by the damp, -and here and there hanging in rags from the wall, and exposing the -bare, mildewed plaster beneath. The furniture was scanty, and in -keeping with the place--old, dark, and crazy; and a wretched bed, with -very spare covering, was, as it seemed, temporarily strewn upon the -floor, near the hearth. The man placed the candle upon a small table, -black with age, and patched and crutched up like a battered pensioner, -and flinging some more wood upon the fire, turned and left the room in -silence. - -Alone, his first employment was to review again and again the strange -events of that night; his next was to conjecture the nature of -O'Hanlon's promised communication. Baffled in these latter -speculations, he applied himself to examine the old chamber in which he -sat, and to endeavour to trace the half-obliterated pattern of the -tattered hangings. These occupations, along with sundry speculations -just as idle, touching the original of a grim old portrait, faded and -torn, which hung over the fireplace, filled up the tedious hours which -preceded his expected interview with his preserver. - -At length the weary interval elapsed, and the anxiously expected moment -arrived. The door opened, and O'Hanlon entered. He approached the young -man, who advanced to meet him, and extending his hand, grasped that of -O'Connor with a warm and friendly pressure. - - - - -CHAPTER XLVI. - -THE DOUBLE CONFERENCE--OLD PAPERS. - - -"When last I saw you," said O'Hanlon, seating himself before the -hearth, and motioning O'Connor to take a chair also, "I told you that -you ought to tame your rash young blood, and gave you thereupon an old -soldier's best advice. It seems, however, that you are wayward and -headlong still. Young soldiers look for danger--old ones are content to -meet it when it comes, knowing well that it will come often enough, -uninvited and unsought; nevertheless, we will pass by this night's -adventure, and turn to other matters. First, however, it were meet and -necessary that you should have somewhat to refresh you; you must needs -be weary and exhausted." - -"If you can give me some wine, it will be very welcome. I care not for -anything more to-night," replied O'Connor. - -"That can I," replied he, "and will myself do you reason." He arose, -and after a few minutes' absence entered with two flasks, whose dust -and cobwebs bespoke their antiquity, and filled two large, long-stemmed -glasses with the generous liquor. - -"Young man," said O'Hanlon, "from the moment I saw you in the inner -room yonder, I know not how or wherefore my heart clave to you; and now -knowing you for the son of my true friend, I feel for you the stronger -love. I will tell you now how matters stand with us. I will hide -nothing from you. I am old enough to have learned the last lesson of -experience--the folly of too much suspicion. I will not distrust the -son of Richard O'Connor. I need hardly tell you that those men whom you -saw below stairs are no friends of the ruling powers, but devoted -entirely to the service and the fortunes of the rightful heir of the -throne of England and of Ireland, met here together not without great -peril." - -"I had conjectured as much from what I myself witnessed," rejoined -O'Connor. - -"Well, then, I tell you this--the cause is not a hopeless one; the -exiled king has warm, zealous, and powerful friends where their -existence is least suspected," continued O'Hanlon. "In the Parliament -of England he has a strong and untiring party undetected--some of them, -too, must soon wield the enormous powers of government, and have -already gotten entire possession of the ear of the Queen; and so soon -as events invite, and the time is ripe for action, a mighty and a -sudden constitutional movement will be made in favour of the prince--a -movement entirely constitutional and in the Parliament. This will, -whether successful or not, raise the intolerant party here into fierce -resistance--the resistance of the firelock and the sword; all the -usurpers, the perjurers, and the plunderers who now possess the wealth -and dignities of this spoiled and oppressed country, will arise in -terror to defend their booty, and unless met and encountered, and -defeated by the party of the young king in this island, will embolden -the malignant rebels of the sister country to imitate their example, -and so overawe the Parliament, and frustrate their beneficent -intentions. To us, therefore, has fallen the humbler but important task -of organizing here, in the heart of this country, and in entire -secrecy, a power sufficient for the occasion. Fain would I have thee -along with us in so great and good a work, but will not urge you now; -think upon it, however--it is not so mad a scheme as you may have -thought, but such a one as looked on calmly, with the cold eye of -reason, seems practicable--ay, sure of success. Ponder the matter, -then; give me no answer now--I will take none--but think well upon it, -and after a week, and not sooner, when you have decided, tell me -whether you will be one of us or not. Meanwhile, I have other matters -to tell you of, in which perhaps your young heart will take a nearer -interest." - -He paused, and having replenished their glasses, and thrown a fresh -supply of wood upon the fire, he continued,-- - -"Are you acquainted with a family named Ashwoode?" - -"Yes," replied O'Connor, quickly, "I have known them long." - -O'Hanlon looked searchingly at the young man, and then continued,-- - -"Yes," said he, "I see it is even so--your face betrays it--you loved -the young lady, Mary Ashwoode--deny it not--I am your friend, and seek -not idly or without purpose thus to question you. What thought you of -Henry Ashwoode, now Sir Henry Ashwoode?" - -"He was latterly much--_entirely_ my friend," replied O'Connor. - -"He so professed himself?" asked O'Hanlon. - -"Ay," replied O'Connor, somewhat surprised at the tone in which the -question was put, "he did so profess himself, and repeatedly." - -"He is a villain--he has betrayed you," said the elder man, sternly. - -"How--what--a villain! Henry Ashwoode deceive me?" said O'Connor, -turning pale as death. - -"Yes--unless I've been strangely practised on--he has villainously -deceived alike you and his own sister--pretending friendship, he has -sowed distrust between you." - -"But have you evidence of what you say?" cried O'Connor. "Gracious -God--what have I done!" - -"I have evidence, and you shall hear and judge of it yourself," replied -O'Hanlon; "you cannot hear it to-night, however, nor I produce it--you -need some rest, and so in truth do I--make use of that poor bed--a -tired brain and weary body need no luxurious couch--I shall see you in -the morning betimes--till then farewell." - -The young man would fain have detained O'Hanlon, and spoken with him, -but in vain. - -"We have talked enough for this night," said the elder man--"I have it -not in my power now to satisfy you--I shall, however, in the morning--I -have taken measures for the purpose--good-night." - -So saying, O'Hanlon left the chamber, and closed the door upon his -young friend, now less than ever disposed to slumber. - -He threw himself upon the pallet, the victim of a thousand harassing -and exciting thoughts--sleep was effectually banished; and at length, -tired of the fruitless attitude of repose which he courted in vain, he -arose and resumed his seat by the hearth, in anxious and weary -expectation of the morning. - -At length the red light of the dawn broke over the smoky city, and with -a dusky glow the foggy sun emerged from the horizon of chimney-tops, -and threw his crimson mantle of ruddy light over the hoary thorn-wood -and the shattered mansion, beneath whose roof had passed the scenes we -have just described. Never did the sick wretch, who in sleepless -anguish has tossed and fretted through the tedious watches of the -night, welcome the return of day with more cordial greeting than did -O'Connor upon this dusky morn. The time which was to satisfy his doubts -could not now be far distant, and every sound which smote upon his ear -seemed to announce the approach of him who was to dispel them all. - -Weary, haggard, and nervous after the fatigues and agitation of the -previous day--unrefreshed by the slumbers he so much required, his -irritation and excitement were perhaps even greater than under other -circumstances they would have been. The torments of suspense were at -length, however, ended--he did hear steps approach the chamber--the -steps evidently of more than one person--the door opened, and O'Hanlon, -followed by Signor Parucci, entered the room. - -"I believe, young gentleman, you have seen this person before?" said -O'Hanlon, addressing O'Connor, while he glanced at the Italian. - -O'Connor assented. - -"Ah! yees," said the Neapolitan, with a winning smile; "he has see me -vary often. Signor O'Connor--he know me vary well. I am so happy to see -him again--vary--oh! vary." - -"Let Mr. O'Connor know briefly and distinctly what you have already -told me," said O'Hanlon. - -"About the letters?" asked the Italian. - -"Yes, be brief," replied O'Hanlon. - -"Ah! did he not guess?" rejoined the Neapolitan; "_per crilla!_ the -deception succeed, then--vary coning faylow was old Sir Richard--bote -not half so coning as his son, Sir Henry. He never suspect--Mr. -O'Connor never doubt, bote took all the letters and read them just so -as Sir Henry said he would. _Malora!_ what great meesfortune." - -"Parucci, speak plainly to the point; I cannot endure this. Say at once -what has he done--_how_ have I been deceived?" cried O'Connor. - -"You remember when the old gentleman--Mr. Audley, I think he is -call--saw Sir Richard--immediately after that some letters passed -between you and Mees Mary Ashwoode." - -"I do remember it--proceed," replied O'Connor. - -"Mees Mary's letters to you were cold and unkind, and make you think -she did not love you any more," added Parucci. - -"Well, well--say on--say on--for God's sake, man--say on," cried -O'Connor, vehemently. - -"Those letters you got were not written by her," continued the Italian, -coolly; "they were all wat you call _forged_--written by another -person, and planned by Sir Henry and Sir Reechard; and the same way on -the other side--the letters you wrote to her were all stopped, and read -by the same two gentlemen, and other letters written in stead, and she -is breaking her heart, because she thinks you 'av betrayed her, and -given her up--_rotta di collo!_ they 'av make nice work!" - -"Prove this to me, prove it," said O'Connor, wildly, while his eye -burned with the kindling fire of fury. - -"I weel prove it," rejoined Parucci, but with an agitated voice and a -troubled face; "bote, _corpo di Plato_, you weel keel me if I -tell--promise--swear--by your honour--you weel not horte me--you weel -not toche me--swear, Signor, and I weel tell." - -"Miserable caitiff--speak, and quickly--you are safe--I swear it," -rejoined he. - -"Well, then," resumed the Italian, with restored calmness, "I will -prove it so that you cannot doubt any more--it was I that wrote the -letters for them--I, myself--and beside, here is the bundle with all of -them written out for me to copy--most of them by Sir Henry--you know -his hand-writing--you weel see the character--_corbezzoli!_ he is a -great rogue--and you will find all the _real_ letters from you and Mees -Mary that were stopped--I have them here." - -He here disengaged from the deep pocket of his coat, a red leathern -case stamped with golden flowers, and opening it presented it to the -young man. - -With shifting colour and eyes almost blinded with agitation, O'Connor -read and re-read these documents. - -"Where is Ashwoode?" at length he cried; "bring me to him--gracious -God, what a monster I must have appeared--will she--_can_ she ever -forgive me?" - -Disregarding in entire contempt the mean agent of Ashwoode's villainy, -and thinking only of the high-born principal, O'Connor, pale as death, -but with perfect deliberateness, arose and took the sword which the -attendant who conducted him to the room had laid by the wall, and -replacing it at his side, said sternly,-- - -"Bring me to Sir Henry Ashwoode--where is he? I must speak with him." - -"I cannot breeng you to him now," replied Parucci, in internal -ecstasies, "for I cannot say where he is; bote I know vary well where -he weel be to-day after dinner time, in the evening, and I weel breeng -you; bote I hope very moche you are not intending any mischiefs; if I -thought so, I would be vary sorry--oh! vary." - -"Well, be it so, if it may not be sooner," said O'Connor, gloomily, -"this evening at all events he shall account with me." - -"Meanwhile," said O'Hanlon, "you may as well remain here; and when the -time arrives which this Italian fellow names, we can start. I will -accompany you, for in such cases the arm of a friend can do you no harm -and may secure you fair play. Hear me, you Italian scoundrel, remain -here until we are ready to depart with you, and that shall be whenever -you think it time to seek Sir Henry Ashwoode; you shall have enough to -eat and drink meanwhile; depart, and relieve us of your company." - -Signor Parucci smiled sweetly from ear to ear, shrugged, and bowed, and -then glided lightly from the room, exulting in the pleasant conviction -that he had commenced operations against his ungrateful patron, by -involving him in a scrape which must inevitably result in somewhat -unpleasant exposures, and which had beside reduced the question of Sir -Henry's life or death to an even chance. - - - - -CHAPTER XLVII. - -"THE JOLLY BOWLERS"--THE DOUBLE FRAY AND THE FLIGHT. - - -At the time of which we write, there lay at the southern extremity of -the city of Dublin, a bowling-green of fashionable resort, well known -as "Cullen's Green." For greater privacy it was enclosed by a brick -wall of considerable height, which again was surrounded by stately rows -of lofty and ancient elms. A few humble dwellings were clustered about -it; and through one of them, a low, tiled public-house, lay the -entrance into this place of pastime. Thitherward O'Connor and O'Hanlon, -having left their horses at the "Cock and Anchor," were led by the wily -Italian. - -"The players you say, will not stop till dusk," said O'Connor; "we can -go in, and I shall wait until the party have broken up, to speak to -Ashwoode; in the interval we can mix with the spectators, and so escape -remark." - -They were now approaching the little tavern embowered in tufted trees, -and as they advanced, they perceived a number of hack carriages and led -horses congregated upon the road about its entrance. - -"Sir Henry is within; that iron-grey is his horse; _sangue dun dua_, -there is no mistake," observed the Neapolitan. - -The little party entered the humble tavern, but here they were -encountered by a new difficulty. - -"You can't get in to-night, gentlemen--sorry to disappint, gentlemen; -but the green's engaged," said mine host, with an air of mysterious -importance; "a private party, engaged two days since for fear of a -disappint." - -"Are they so strictly private, that they would not suffer two gentlemen -to be spectators of their play?" inquired O'Hanlon. - -"My orders is not to let anyone in, good, bad, or indifferent, while -they are playing the match; that's _my_ orders," replied the man; -"sorry to disappint, but can't break my word with the gentlemen, you -know." - -"Is there any other entrance into the bowling-green?" inquired -O'Connor, "except through that door." - -"Divil a one, sir, where would it be?--divil a one, gentlemen," replied -mine host, "no other way in or out." - -"We will rest ourselves here for a time, then," said O'Connor. - -Accordingly the party seated themselves in the low-roofed chamber -through which the bowlers on quitting the ground must necessarily pass; -and calling for some liquor to prevent suspicion, moodily awaited the -appearance of the young baronet and his companions. Many a stern, -impatient glance of expectation did O'Connor direct to the old door -which alone separated him from the traitor and hypocrite who had with -such monstrous fraud practised upon his unsuspecting confidence. At -length he heard gay laughter and the tread of many feet approaching; -the proprietor of "The Jolly Bowlers" opened the door, and several -merry groups passed them by and took their departure, but O'Connor's -eye in vain sought among them the form of young Ashwoode. - -"I see the grey horse still at the door; I know it as well as I know my -own hand," said the Italian; "as sure as I am leeving man, Sir Henry is -there still." - -After an interval so considerable that O'Connor almost despaired of the -appearance of Ashwoode, voices were again audible, and steps -approaching the door-way at a slow pace; the time between the first -approach of those sounds, and the actual appearance of those who caused -them, appeared to the overwrought anxiety of O'Connor all but -interminable. At length, however, two figures entered from the -bowling-green--the one was that of a spare but dignified-looking man, -somewhat advanced in years, but carrying in his countenance a singular -expression of jollity and good humour--the other was that of Sir Henry -Ashwoode. - -"God be thanked," said O'Hanlon, grasping the hilt of his sword, "here -comes the perjured villain Wharton." - -O'Connor had another object, however, and beheld no one existing thing -but only the now hated form of his false friend; both he and O'Hanlon -started to their feet as the two figures entered the small and darksome -room. O'Connor threw himself directly in their path and said,-- - -"Sir Henry Ashwoode, a word with you." - -The appeal was startling and unexpected, and there was in the voice and -attitude of him who uttered it, something of deep, intense, constrained -passion and resolution, which made the two companions involuntarily and -suddenly check their advance. One moment sufficed for Sir Henry to -recognize O'Connor, and another convinced him that his quondam friend -had discovered his treachery, and was there to unmask, perhaps to -punish him. His presence of mind, however, seldom, if ever, forsook him -in such scenes as this--he instantly resolved upon the tone in which to -meet his injured antagonist. - -"Pray, sir," said he, with stern _hauteur_, "upon what ground do you -presume to throw yourself thus menacingly in my way? Move aside and let -me pass, or your rashness shall cost you dearly." - -"Ashwoode--Sir Henry--you well know there is one consideration which -would unstring my arm if lifted against your life--you presume upon the -forbearance which this respect commands," said O'Connor. "Promise but -this--that you will undeceive your sister, whom you have practised upon -as cruelly as you have on me, and I will call you to no further -account, and inflict no further humiliation." - -"Very good, sir, very magnanimous, and exceedingly tragic," rejoined -Ashwoode, scornfully. "Turn aside, sirrah, and leave my path open, or -by the ---- you shall rue it." - -"I will not leave the spot on which I stand but with my life, except on -the conditions I have named," replied O'Connor. - -"Once more, before I _strike_ you, leave the way," cried Ashwoode, -whose constitutional pugnacity began to be thoroughly aroused. "Turn -aside, sirrah! How dare you confront gentlemen--insolent beggar, how -dare you!" - -Yielding to the furious impulse of the moment, Sir Henry Ashwoode drew -his sword, and with the naked blade struck his antagonist twice with no -sparing hand. The passions which O'Connor had, with all his energy, -hitherto striven to master, would now brook restraint no longer; at -this last extremity of insult the blood sprang from his heart in fiery -currents and tingled through every vein; every feeling but the one -deadly sense of outraged pride, of repeated wrong, followed and -consummated by one degrading and intolerable outrage, vanished from his -mind. With the speed of light his sword was drawn and presented at -Ashwoode's breast. Each threw himself into the cautious attitude of -deadly vigilance, and quick as lightning the bright blades crossed and -clashed in the mortal rivalry of cunning fence. Each party was -possessed of consummate skill in the use of the fatal weapon which he -wielded, and several times in the course of the fierce debate, so -evenly were they matched, the two, as by voluntary accommodation, -paused in the conflict to take breath. - -With faces pale as death with rage, and a consciousness of the deadly -issue in which alone the struggle could end, and with eyes that glared -like those of savage beasts at bay, each eyed the other. Thus -alternately they paused and renewed the combat, and for long, with -doubtful fortune. In the position of the antagonists there was, -however, an inequality, and, as it turned out, a decisive one--the door -through which Ashwoode and his companion had entered, and to which his -back was turned, lay open, and the light which it admitted fell full in -O'Connor's eyes. This, as all who have handled the foil can tell, is a -disadvantage quite sufficient to determine even a less nicely balanced -contest than that of which we write. After several pauses in the -combat, and as many desperate renewals of it, Ashwoode, in one quick -lunge, passed his blade through his opponent's sword-arm. Though the -blood flowed plenteously, neither party seemed inclined to abate his -deadly efforts. O'Connor's arm began to grow stiff and weak, and the -energy and quickness of his action impaired; the consequences of this -were soon exhibited. Ashwoode lunged twice or thrice rapidly, and one -of these passes, being imperfectly parried, took effect in his -opponent's breast. O'Connor staggered backward, and his hand and eye -faltered for a moment; but he quickly recovered, and again advanced and -again with the same result. Faint, dizzy, and half blind, but with -resolution and rage, enhanced by defeat, he staggered forward again, -wild and powerless, and was received once more upon the point of his -adversary's sword. He reeled back, stood for a moment, his sword -dropped upon the ground, and he shook his empty hand in fruitless -menace at his triumphant antagonist, and then rolled headlong upon the -pavement, insensible, and weltering in gore--the combat was over. - -Ashwoode and O'Connor had hardly crossed their weapons when O'Hanlon -sprang forward and sternly accosted Lord Wharton, for it was no other, -who accompanied Ashwoode. - -"My lord, you need not interfere," said he, observing a movement on -Lord Wharton's part as if he would have separated the combatants. "This -is a question which all your diplomacy will not arrange--they will -fight it to the end. If you give them not fair play while I secure the -door, I will send my sword through your excellency's body." - -So saying, O'Hanlon drew his weapon, and keeping occasional watch upon -Wharton--who, however, did not exhibit any further disposition to -interfere--he strode to the outer door, which opened upon the public -road, and to prevent interruption from that quarter, drew the bar and -secured it effectually. - -"Now, my lord," said he, returning and resuming his position, "I have -secured this fortunate meeting against intrusion. What think you, while -our friends are thus engaged, were we, for warmth and exercise sake, -likewise to cross our blades? Will your lordship condescend to gratify -a simple gentleman so far?" - -"Out upon you, fellow; know you who I am?" said Wharton, with sturdy -good-humour. - -"I know thee well, Lord Wharton--a wily, selfish, double-dealing -politician; a profligate in morals; an infidel in religion; and a -traitor in politics. I know thee--who doth not?" - -"Landlord," said Wharton, turning toward that personage, who, with -amazement, irresolution, and terror in his face, inspected these -violent proceedings, "landlord, I say, call in a lackey or two; I'll -bring this ruffian to reason quickly. Have you gotten a pump in the -neighbourhood? Landlord, I say, bestir thyself, or, by ----, I'll spur -thee with my sword-point." - -"Stir not, if you would keep your life," said O'Hanlon, in a tone which -the half-stupefied host of "The Jolly Bowlers" dared not disobey. "If -you would not suffer death upon the spot where you stand, do not -attempt to move one step, nor to speak one word. My lord," he -continued, "I am right glad of this rencounter. I would have freely -given half what I possess in the world to have secured it. Believe me, -I will not leave it unimproved. My lord, in plain terms, for ten -thousand reasons I desire your death, and will not leave this place -till I have striven to effect it. Draw your sword, if you be a man; -draw your sword, unless cowardice has come to crown your vices." - -O'Hanlon drew his sword, and allowing Wharton hardly time sufficient to -throw himself into an attitude of defence, he attacked him with deadly -resolution. It was well for the viceroy that he was an expert -swordsman, otherwise his career would undoubtedly have been abruptly -terminated upon the floor of "The Jolly Bowlers." As it was, he -received a thrust right through the shoulder, and staggering back, -stumbled and fell upon the uneven pavement which studded the floor. -This occurred almost at the same moment with O'Connor's fall, and -believing that he had mortally hurt his noble antagonist, O'Hanlon, -without stopping to look about him hastily lifted his fallen and -senseless companion from the pavement and bore him in his arms through -the outer door, which the landlord had at length found resolution -enough to unbar. Fortunately a hackney coach stood there waiting for a -chance job from some of the aristocratic bowlers within, and in this -vehicle he hurriedly deposited his inanimate burden, and desiring the -coachman to drive for his life into the city, sprang into the -conveyance himself. Irishmen are proverbially ready at all times to aid -an escape from the fangs of justice, and without pausing to ask a -question, the coachman, to whom the sight of blood and of the naked -sword, which O'Hanlon still carried, was warrant sufficient, mounted -the box with incredible speed, pressed his hat firmly down upon his -brows, shook the reins, and lashed his horses till they smoked again; -and thus, at a gallop, O'Hanlon and his bleeding companion thundered -onward toward the city. Ashwoode did not interfere to stay the -fugitives, for he was not sorry to be relieved of the embarrassment -which he foresaw in having the body of his victim left, as it were, in -his charge. He therefore gladly witnessed its removal, and addressed -himself to Lord Wharton, who was rising with some difficulty from his -prostrate position. - -"Are you hurt, my lord?" inquired Ashwoode, kneeling by his side and -assisting him to rise. - -"Hush! nothing--a mere scratch. Above all things, make no row about it. -By ----, I would not for worlds that anything were heard of it. -Fortunately, this accident is a trivial one--the blood flows rather -fast, though. Let's get into a coach, if, indeed, the scoundrels have -not run away with the last of them." - -They found one, however, at the door, and getting in with all -convenient dispatch, desired the man to drive slowly toward the castle. - - - - -CHAPTER XLVIII. - -THE STAINED RUFFLES. - - -We must now return for a brief space to Morley Court. The apartment -which lay beneath what had been Sir Richard Ashwoode's bed-chamber, and -in which Mary and her gay cousin, Emily Copland, had been wont to sit -and work, and read and sing together, had grown to be considered, by -long-established usage, the rightful and exclusive property of the -ladies of the family, and had been surrendered up to their private -occupation and absolute control. Around it stood full many a quaint -cabinet of dark old wood, shining like polished jet, little bookcases, -and tall old screens, and music stands, and drawing tables. These, -along with a spinet and a guitar, and countless other quaint and pretty -sundries indicating the habitual presence of feminine refinement and -taste, abundantly furnished the chamber. In the window stood some -choice and fragrant flowers, and the light fell softly upon the carpet -through the clustering bowers of creeping plants which mantled the -outer wall, in sombre rivalry of the full damask curtains, whose -draperies hung around the deep receding casements. - -Here sat Mary Ashwoode, as the evening, whose tragic events we have in -our last chapter described, began to close over the old manor of Morley -Court. Her embroidery had been thrown aside, and lay upon the table, -and a book, which she had been reading, was open before her; but her -eyes now looked pensively through the window upon the fair, sad -landscape, clothed in the warm and melancholy tints of evening. Her -graceful arm leaned upon the table, and her small, white hand supported -her head and mingled in the waving tresses of her dark hair. - -"At what hour did my brother promise to return?" said she, addressing -herself to her maid, who was listlessly arranging some books in the -little book-case. - -"Well, I declare and purtest, I can't rightly remember," rejoined the -maid, cocking her head on one side reflectively, and tapping her -eyebrow to assist her recollection. "I don't think, my lady, he named -any hour precisely; but at any rate, you may be sure he'll not be long -away now." - -"I thought he said seven o'clock," continued Mary; "would he were come! -I feel very solitary to-day; and this evening we might pass happily -together, for that strange man will not return to-night--he said so--my -brother told me so." - -"I believe Mr. Blarden changed his mind, my lady," said the maid; "for -I know he gave orders before he went for a fire in his room to-night." - -Even as she spoke she heard Sir Henry's step upon the stairs, and her -brother entered the room. - -"Harry, Harry, I am so glad to see you," said she, running lightly to -him and throwing her arms around his neck. "Come, come, sit you down -beside me; we shall be happy together at least for this evening. Come, -Harry, come." - -So saying she led him, passive and gloomy, to the fireside, and drew a -chair beside that into which he had thrown himself. - -"Dear brother, the time seemed so very tedious to-day while you were -away," said she. "I thought it would never pass. Why are you so silent -and thoughtful, brother? has anything happened to vex you?" - -"Nothing," said he, glancing at her with a strange expression--"nothing -to vex me--no, nothing--perhaps the contrary." - -"Dear brother, have you heard good news? Come and tell me," said she; -"though I fear from the sadness of your face you do but flatter me. -Have you, Harry--have you heard or seen anything that gave you -comfort?" - -"No, not comfort; I know not what I say. Have you any wine here?" said -Ashwoode, hurriedly; "I am tired and thirsty." - -"No, not here," answered she, somewhat surprised at the oddity of the -question, as well as by the abruptness and abstraction of his manner. - -"Carey," said he, "run down--bring wine quickly; I'm exhausted--quite -wearied. I have played more at bowls this afternoon than I've done for -years," he added, addressing his sister as the maid departed on her -errand. - -"You do look very pale, brother," said she, "and your dress is all -disordered; and, gracious God!--see all the ruffles of this hand are -steeped in blood--brother, brother, for God's sake--are you hurt?" - -"Hurt--I--?" said he hastily, and endeavouring to smile! "no, indeed--I -hurt! far be it from me--this blood is none of mine; one of our party -scratched his hand, and I bound his handkerchief round the wound, and -in so doing contracted these tragic spots that startle you so. No, no, -believe me, when I am hurt I will make no secret of it. Carey, pour -some wine into that glass--fill it--fill it, child--there," and he -drank it off--"fill it again--so two or three more, and I shall be -quite myself again. How snug this room of yours is, Mary." - -"Yes, brother, I am very fond of it; it is a pleasant old room, and one -that has often seen me happier than I shall be again," said she, with a -sigh; "but do you feel better? has the wine refreshed you? You still -look pale," she added, with fears not yet half quieted. - -"Yes, Mary, I am refreshed," he said, with a sudden and reckless burst -of strange merriment that shocked her; "I could play the match through -again--I could leap, and laugh and sing;" and then he added quickly in -an altered voice--"has Blarden returned?" - -"No," said she; "I thought you said he would remain in town to-night." - -"I said wrong if I said so at all," replied Ashwoode; "and if he _did_ -intend to stay in town he has changed his plans--he will be here this -evening; I thought I should have found him here on my return; I expect -him every moment." - -"When, dear brother, is this visit of his to end?" asked the girl -imploringly. - -"Not for weeks--for months, I hope," replied Ashwoode drily and -quickly; "why do you inquire, pray?" - -"Simply because I wish it were ended, brother," answered she sadly; -"but if it vexes you I will ask no more." - -"It _does_ vex me, then," said Ashwoode, sternly; "it _does_, and you -know it"--he accompanied these words with a look even more savage than -the tone in which he had uttered them, and a silence of some minutes -followed. - -Ashwoode desired nothing so much as to speak with his sister -intelligibly upon the subject of Blarden's designs, and of his own -entire approval of them; but, somehow, often as he had resolved upon -it, he had never yet approached the topic, even in imagination, in his -sister's presence, without feeling himself unnerved and abashed. He now -strove to fret himself into a rage, in the instinctive hope that under -the influence of this stimulus he might find nerve to broach the -subject in plain terms; he strode quickly to and fro across the floor, -casting from time to time many an angry glance at the poor girl, and -seeking by every mechanical agency to work himself into a passion. - -"And so it is come to this at last," said he, vehemently, "that I may -not invite my friends to my own house; or that if I dare to do so, they -shall necessarily be exposed to the constant contempt and rudeness of -those who ought to be their entertainers; all their advances towards -acquaintance met with a hoity-toity, repulsive impertinence, and -themselves treated with a marked and insulting avoidance, shunned as -though they had the plague. I tell you now plainly, once for all, _I -will_ be master in my own house; you shall treat my guests with -attention and respect; you must do so; I command you; you shall find -that I am master here." - -"No doubt of it, by ----," ejaculated Nicholas Blarden, himself -entering the room at the termination of Ashwoode's stormy harangue; -"but where the devil is the good of roaring that way? your sister is -not deaf, I suppose? Mistress Mary, your most obedient----" - -Mary did not wait for further conference; but rising with a proud mien -and a burning cheek, she left the room and went quickly to her own -chamber, where she threw herself into a chair, covered her eyes with -her hands, and burst into an agony of weeping. - -"Well, but she _is_ a fine wench," cried Nicholas Blarden, as soon as -she had disappeared. "The tantarums become her better than good -humour;" so saying, he half filled Ashwoode's glass with wine, and -rinsed it into the fireplace; then coolly filled a bumper and quaffed -it off, and then another and another. - -"Sit down here and listen to me," said he to Ashwoode, in that -insolent, domineering tone which he so loved to employ in accosting -him, "sit down here, I say, young man, and listen to me while I give -you a bit of my mind." - -Ashwoode, who knew too well the consequences of even murmuring under -the tyranny of his task-master, in silence did as he was commanded. - -"I tell you what it is," said Blarden, "I don't like the way this -affair is going on; the girl avoids me; I don't know her, by ----, a -curse better to-day than I did the first day I came into the house; -this won't do, you know; it will never do; you had better strike out -some expeditious plan, or it's very possible I may tire of the whole -concern and cut it back, do you mind; you had better sharpen your wits, -my fine fellow." - -"The fault is your own," said Ashwoode gloomily; "if you desire -expedition, you can command it, by yourself speaking to her; you have -not as yet even hinted at your intentions, nor by any one act made her -acquainted with your designs; let her see that you like her; let her -understand you; you have never done so yet." - -"She's infernally proud," said Blarden, "just as proud as yourself: but -we know a knack, don't we, for bringing pride to its senses? Eh? -Nothing, I believe, Sir Henry, like _fear_ in such cases; don't you -think so? I've known it succeed sometimes to a miracle--fear of one -kind or another is the only way we have of working men or women. Mind I -tell you she must be frightened, and well frightened too, or she'll run -rusty. I have a knack with me--a kind of gift--of frightening people -when I have a fancy; and if you're in earnest, as I guess you pretty -well are, between us we'll tame her." - -"It were not advisable to proceed at once to extremities," said -Ashwoode, who, spite of his constitutional selfishness, felt some odd -sensations, and not of the pleasantest kind, while they thus conversed. -"You must begin by showing your wishes in your manner; be attentive to -her; and, in short, let her unequivocally see the nature of your -intentions; _tell_ her that you want to marry her; and when she -refuses, then it is time enough to commence those--those--other -operations at which you hint." - -"Well, d----n me, but there is some sense in what you say," observed -Blarden, filling his glass again. "Umph! perhaps I've been rather -backward; I believe I _have_; she's coy, shy, and a proud little -baggage withal--I like her the better for it--and requires a lot of -wooing before she's won; well, I'll make myself clear on to-morrow. I'm -blessed if she sha'n't understand me beyond the possibility of question -or doubt; and if she won't listen to reason, _then_ we'll see whether -there isn't a way to break her spirit if she was as proud as the -Queen." With these words Blarden arose and drained the flask of wine, -then observed authoritatively,-- - -"Get the cards and follow me to the parlour. I want something to amuse -me; be quick, d'ye hear?" - -And so saying he took his departure, followed by Sir Henry Ashwoode, -whose condition was now more thoroughly abject and degraded than that -of a purchased slave. - - - - -CHAPTER XLIX. - -OLD SONGS--THE UNWELCOME LISTENER--THE BARONET'S PLEDGE. - - -Next day Mary Ashwoode sat alone in the same room in which she had been -so unpleasantly intruded upon on the evening before. The unkindness of -her brother had caused her many a bitter tear during the past night, -and although still entirely in the dark as to Blarden's designs, there -was yet something in his manner during the brief moment of their -yesterday evening's rencontre which alarmed her, and suggested, in a -few hurried and fevered dreams which troubled her broken slumbers of -the night past, his dreaded image in a hundred wild and fantastic -adventures. - -She sat, as we have already said, alone in the self-same room, and as -mechanically she pursued her work, her thoughts were far away, and -wherever they turned still were they clouded with anxiety and sorrow. -Wearied at length with the monotony of an occupation which availed not -even momentarily to draw her attention from the griefs which weighed -upon her, she threw her work aside, and taking the guitar which in -gayer hours had often yielded its light music to her touch, and trying -to forget the consciousness of her changed and lonely existence in the -happier recollections which returned in these once familiar sounds, she -played and sang the simple melodies which had been her favourites long -ago; but while thus her hands strayed over the chords of the -instrument, and the low and silvery cadences of her sweet voice -recalled many a touching remembrance of the past, she was startled and -recalled at once from her momentary forgetfulness of the present by a -voice close behind her which exclaimed,-- - -"Capital--never a better--encore, encore;" and on looking hurriedly -round, her glance at once encountered and recognized the form and -features of Nicholas Blarden. "Go on, go on, do," said that gentleman -in his most engaging way, and with an amorous grin; "do--go on, can't -you--by ----, I'm half sorry I said a word." - -"I--I would rather not," stammered she, rising and colouring; "I have -played and sung enough--too much already." - -"No, no, not at all," continued Blarden, warming as he proceeded; "hang -me, no such thing, you were just going on strong when I came in--come, -come, I won't _let_ you stop." - -Her heart swelled with indignation at the coarse, familiar insolence of -his manner; but she made no other answer than that conveyed by laying -down the instrument, and turning from it and him. - -"Well, rot me, but this is too bad," continued he, playfully; "come, -take it up again--come, you _must_ tip us another stave, young -lady--do--curse me if I heard half your songs, you're a perfect -nightingale." - -So saying he took up the guitar, and followed her with it towards the -fireplace. - -"Come, you won't refuse, eh?--I'm in earnest," he continued; "upon my -soul and oath I want to hear more of it." - -"I have already told you, sir," said Mary Ashwoode, "that I do not wish -to play or sing any more at present. I am sure you are not aware, Mr. -Blarden, that this is my private apartment; no one visits me here -uninvited, and at present I wish to be alone." - -Thus speaking, she resumed her seat and her work, and sat in perfect -silence, her heaving breast and glowing cheeks alone betraying the -strength of her emotions. - -"Ho, ho! rot me, but she's sulky," cried Blarden, with a horse-laugh, -while he flung the guitar carelessly upon the table; "sure you wouldn't -turn me out--that would be very hard usage, and no mistake. Eh! Miss -Mary?" - -Mary continued to ply her silks in silence, and Blarden threw himself -into a chair opposite to her. - -"I like to rise you--hang me, if I don't," said Blarden, -exultingly--"you are always a snug-looking bit of goods, but when your -blood's up, you're a downright beauty--rot me, but you are--why the -devil don't you talk to me--eh?" he added, more roughly than he had yet -spoken. - -Mary Ashwoode began now to feel seriously alarmed at the man's manner, -and as her eyes encountered his gloating gaze, her colour came and went -in quick succession. - -"Confoundedly pretty, sure enough, and well you know it, too," -continued he--"curse me, but you _are_ a fine wench--and I'll tell you -what's more--I'm more than half in love with you at this minute, may -the devil have me but I am." - -Thus speaking, he drew his chair nearer hers. - -"Mr. Blarden--sir--I insist on your leaving me," said Mary, now -thoroughly frightened. - -"And _I_ insist on _not_ leaving you," replied Blarden, with an -insolent chuckle--"so it's a fair trial of strength between us, -eh?--ho, ho, what are you afraid of?--stick up to your fight--do -then--I like you all the better for your spirit--confound me but I do." - -He advanced his chair still nearer to that on which she was seated. - -"Well, but you _do_ look pretty, by Jove," he exclaimed. "I like _you_, -and I am determined to make you like _me_--I am--you _shall_ like me." - -He arose, and approached her with a half amorous, half menacing air. - -Pale as death, Mary Ashwoode arose also, and moved with hurried, -trembling steps towards the door. He made a movement as if to intercept -her exit, but checked the impulse, and contented himself with observing -with a scowl of spite and disappointment, as she passed from the -room,-- - -"Pride will have a fall, my fine lady--you'll be tame enough yet for -all your tantarums, by Jove." - -Breathless with haste and agitation, Mary reached the study, where she -knew her brother was now generally to be found. He was there engaged in -the miserable labour of looking through accounts and letters, in -arranging the complicated records of his own ruin. - -"Brother," said she, running to his side with the earnestness of deep -agitation, "brother, listen to me." - -He raised his eyes, and at a glance easily divined the cause of her -excitement. - -"Well," said he, "speak on--I hear." - -"Brother," she resumed, "that man--that Mr. Blarden, came uninvited -into my study; he was at first very coarse and free in his manner--very -disagreeable and impudent--he refused to leave me when I requested him -to do so, and every moment became more and more insolent--his manner -and language terrified me. Brother, dear brother, you must not expose -me to another such scene as that which has just passed." - -Ashwoode paused for a good while, with the pen still in his fingers, -and his eyes fixed abstractedly upon his sister's pale face. At length -he said,-- - -"Do you wish me to make this a quarrel with Blarden? Was there enough -to warrant a--a duel?" - -He well knew, however, that he was safe in putting the question, and in -anticipating her answer, he calculated rightly the strength of his -sister's affection for him. - -"Oh! no, no, brother--no!" she cried, with imploring terror; "dear -brother, you are everything to me now. No, no; promise that you will -not!" - -"Well, well, I do," said Ashwoode; "but how would you have me act?" - -"Do not ask this man to prolong his visit," replied she; "or if he -must, at least let me go elsewhere while he remains here." - -"You have but one female relative in Ireland with a house to receive -you," rejoined Ashwoode, "and that is Lady Stukely; and I have reason -to think she would not like to have you as a guest just now." - -"Dear Harry--dear brother, think of some place," said she, with earnest -entreaty. "I now feel secure nowhere; that rude man, the very sight of -whom affrights me, will not forbear to intrude upon my privacy; -alone--in my own little room--anywhere in this house--I am equally -liable to his intrusions and his rudeness. Dear brother, take pity on -me--think of some place." - -"Curse that beast Blarden!" muttered Sir Henry Ashwoode, between his -teeth. "Will nothing ever teach the ruffian one particle of tact or -common sense? What good end could he possibly propose to himself by -terrifying the girl?" - -Ashwoode bit his lips and frowned, while he thought the matter over. At -length he said,-- - -"I shall speak to Blarden immediately. I begin to think that the man is -not fit company for civilized people. I think we must get rid of him at -whatever temporary inconvenience, without actual rudeness. Without -anything approaching to a quarrel, I can shorten his visit. He shall -leave this either to-night or before seven o'clock to-morrow morning." - -"And you promise there shall be no quarrel--no violence?" urged she. - -"Yes, Mary, I do promise," rejoined Ashwoode. - -"Dear, dear brother, you have set my heart at rest," cried she. "Yes, -you _are_ my own dear brother--my protector!" And with all the warmth -and enthusiasm of unsuspecting love, she threw her arms around his neck -and kissed her betrayer. - -Mary had scarcely left the room in which Sir Henry Ashwoode was seated, -when he perceived Blarden sauntering among the trees by the window, -with his usual swagger; the young man put on his hat and walked quickly -forth to join him; as soon as he had come up with him, Blarden turned, -and anticipating him, said,-- - -"Well, I _have_ spoken out, and I think she understands me too; at any -rate, if she don't, it's no fault of mine." - -"I wish you had managed it better," said Ashwoode; "there is a way of -doing these things. You have frightened the foolish girl half out of -her wits." - -"Have I, though?" exclaimed Blarden, with a triumphant grin. "She's -just the girl we want--easily cowed. I'm glad to hear it. We'll manage -her--we'll bring her into training before a week--hang me, but we -will." - -"You began a little too soon, though," urged Ashwoode; "you ought to -have tried gentle means first." - -"Devil the morsel of good in them," rejoined Blarden. "I see well -enough how the wind sits--she don't like me; and I haven't time to -waste in wooing. Once we're buckled, she'll be fond enough of me; -matrimony 'll turn out smooth enough--I'll take devilish good care of -that; but the courtship will be the devil's tough business. We must -begin the taming system off-hand; there's no use in shilly shally." - -"I tell you," rejoined Ashwoode, "you have been too precipitate--I -speak, of course, merely in relation to the policy and expediency of -the thing. I don't mean to pretend that constraint may not become -necessary hereafter; but just now, and before our plans are well -considered, and our arrangements made, I think it was injudicious to -frighten her so. She was talking of leaving the house and going to Lady -Stukely's, or, in short, anywhere rather than remain here." - -"Threaten to run away, did she?" cried Blarden, with a whistle of -surprise which passed off into a chuckle. - -"Yes, in plain terms, she said so," rejoined Ashwoode. - -"Then just turn the key upon her at once," replied Blarden--"lock her -up--let her measure her rambles by the four walls of her room! Hang me, -if I can see the difficulty." - -Ashwoode remained silent, and they walked side by side for a time -without exchanging a word. - -"Well, I believe I'm right," cried Blarden, at length; "I think our -game is plain enough, eh? Don't let her budge an inch. Do you act -turnkey, and I'll pay her a visit once a day for fear she'd forget -me--I'll be her father confessor, eh?--ho, ho!--and between us I think -we'll manage to bring her to before long." - -"We must take care before we proceed to this extremity that all our -agents are trustworthy," said Ashwoode. "There is no immediate danger -of her attempting an escape, for I told her that you were leaving this -either to-night or to-morrow morning, and she's now just as sure as if -we had her under lock and key." - -"Well, what do you advise? Can't you speak out? What's all the delay to -lead to?" said Blarden. - -"Merely that we shall have time to adjust our schemes," replied -Ashwoode; "there is more to be done than perhaps you think of. We must -cut off all possibility of correspondence with friends out of doors, -and we must guard against suspicion among the servants; they are all -fond of her, and there is no knowing what mischief might be done even -by the most contemptible agents. Some little preparation before we -employ coercion is absolutely indispensable." - -"Well, then, you'd have me keep out of the way," said Blarden. "But -mind you, I won't leave this; I like to have my own eye upon my own -business." - -"There is no reason why you should leave it," rejoined Ashwoode. "The -weather is now cold and broken, so that Mary will seldom leave the -house; and when she remains in it, she is almost always in the little -drawing-room with her work, and books, and music; with the slightest -precaution you can effectually avoid her for a few days." - -"Well, then, agreed--done and done--a fair go on both sides," replied -Blarden, "but it must not be too long; knock out some scheme that will -wind matters up within a fortnight at furthest; be lively, or she shall -lead apes, and you swing as sure as there's six sides to a die." - - - - -CHAPTER L. - -THE PRESS IN THE WALL. - - -Larry Toole, having visited in vain all his master's usual haunts, -returned in the evening of that day on which we last beheld him, to the -"Cock and Anchor," in a state of extreme depression and desolateness. - -"By the holy man," said Larry, in reply to the inquiries of the groom, -who encountered him at the yard gate, "he's gone as clane as a whistle. -It's dacent thratement, so it is--gone, and laves me behind to rummage -the town for him, and divil a sign of him, good or bad. I'm fairly -burstin' with emotions. Why did he make off with himself? Why the devil -did he desart me? There's no apology for sich minewvers, nor no excuse -in the wide world, anless, indeed, he happened to be dhrounded or -dhrunk. I'm fairly dry with the frettin'. Come in with me, and we'll -have a sorrowful pot iv strong ale together by the kitchen fire; for, -bedad, I want something badly." - -Accordingly the two worthies entered the great old kitchen, and by the -genial blaze of its cheering hearth, they discussed at length the -probabilities of recovering Larry's lost master. - -"Usedn't he to take a run out now and again to Morley Court?" inquired -the groom; "you told me so." - -"By the hokey," exclaimed Larry, with sudden alacrity, "there is some -sinse in what you say--bedad, there is. I don't know how in the world I -didn't think iv going out there to-day. But no matter, I'll do it -to-morrow." - -And in accordance with this resolution, upon the next day, early in the -forenoon, Mr. Toole pursued his route toward the old manor-house. As he -approached the domain, however, he slackened his pace, and, with -extreme hesitation and caution, began to loiter toward the mansion, -screening his approach as much as possible among the thick brushwood -which skirted the rich old timber that clothed the slopes and hollows -of the manor in irregular and stately masses. Sheltered in his post of -observation, Larry lounged about until he beheld Sir Henry emerge from -the hall door and join Nicholas Blarden in the _tete-a-tete_ which we -have in our last chapter described. Our romantic friend no sooner -beheld this occurrence, than he felt all his uneasiness at once -dispelled. He marched rapidly to the hall door, which remained open, -and forthwith entered the house. He had hardly reached the interior of -the hall, when he was encountered by no less a person than the fair -object of his soul's idolatry, the beauteous Mistress Betsy Carey. - -"La, Mr. Laurence," cried she, with an affected start, "you're always -turning up like a ghost, when you're least expected." - -"By the powers of Moll Kelly!" rejoined Larry, with fervour, "it's more -and more beautiful, the Lord be merciful to us, you're growin' every -day you live. What the divil will you come to at last?" - -"Well, Mr. Toole," rejoined she, relaxing into a gracious smile, "but -you do talk more nonsense than any ten beside. I wonder at you, so I -do, Mr. Toole. Why don't you have a discreeterer way of conversation -and discourse?" - -"Och! murdher!--heigho! beautiful Betsy," sighed Larry, rapturously. - -"Did you walk, Mr. Toole?" inquired the maiden. - -"I did so," rejoined Larry. - -"Young master's just gone out," continued the maid. - -"So I seen, jewel," replied Mr. Toole. - -"An' you may as well come into the parlour, an' have some drink and -victuals," added she, with an encouraging smile. - -"Is there no fear of his coming in on me?" inquired Larry, cautiously. - -"Tilly vally, man, who are you afraid of?" exclaimed the handmaiden, -cheerily. "Come, Mr. Toole, you used not to be so easily frightened." - -"I'll never be afraid to folly your lead, most beautiful and -bewildhering iv famales," ejaculated Mr. Toole, gallantly. "So here -goes; folly on, and I'll attind you behind." - -Accordingly, they both entered the great parlour, where the table bore -abundant relics of a plenteous meal, and Mistress Betsy Carey, with her -own fair hands, placed a chair for him at the table, and heaping a -plate with cold beef and bread, laid it before her grateful swain, -along with a foaming tankard of humming ale. The maid was gracious, and -the beef delicious; his ears drank in her accents, and his throat her -ale, and his heart and mouth were equally full. Thus, in a condition as -nearly as human happiness can approach to unalloyed felicity, realizing -the substantial bliss of Mahomet's paradise, Mr. Toole ogled and ate, -and glanced and guzzled in soft rapture, until the force of nature -could no further go on, and laying down his knife and fork, he took one -long last draught of ale, measuring, it is supposed, about three -half-pints, and then, with an easy negligence, wiping the froth from -his mouth with the cuff of his coat, he addressed himself to the fair -dame once more,-- - -"They may say what they like, by the hokey! all the world over; but -divil bellows me, if ever I seen sich another beautiful, fascinating, -flusthrating famale, since I was the size iv that musthard pot--may the -divil bile me if I did," ejaculated Mr. Toole, rapturously throwing -himself into the chair with something between a sigh and a grunt, and -ready to burst with love and repletion. - -The fair maiden endeavoured to look contemptuous; but she smiled in -spite of herself. - -"Well, well, Mr. Toole," she exclaimed, "I see there is no use in -talking; a fool's a fool to the end of his days, and some people's past -cure. But tell me, how's Mr. O'Connor?" - -"Bedad, it's time for me to think iv it," exclaimed Larry, briskly. "Do -you know what brought me here?" - -"How should _I_ know?" responded she, with a careless toss of her head, -and a very conscious look. - -"Well," replied Mr. Toole, "I'll tell you at once. I lost the masther -as clane as a new shilling, an' I'm fairly braking my heart lookin' for -him; an' here I come, trying would I get the chance iv hearing some -soart iv a sketch iv him." - -"Is that all?" inquired the damsel, drily. - -"All!" ejaculated Larry; "begorra. I think it's enough, an' something -to spare. _All!_ why, I tell you the masther's lost, an' anless I get -some news of him here, it's twenty to one the two of us 'ill never meet -in this disappinting world again. _All!_ I think that something." - -"An' pray, what should _I_ know about Mr. O'Connor?" inquired the girl, -tartly. - -"Did you see him, or hear of him, or was he out here at all?" asked he. - -"No, he wasn't. What would bring him?" replied she. - -"Then he _is_ gone in airnest," exclaimed Larry, passionately; "he's -gone entirely! I half guessed it from the first minute. By jabers, my -bitther curse attind that bloody little public. He's lost, an' tin to -one he's _in glory_, for he was always unfortunate. Och! divil fly away -with the liquor." - -"Well, to be sure," ejaculated the lady's maid, with contemptuous -severity, "but it is surprising what fools some people is. Don't you -think your master can go anywhere for a day or two, but he must bring -_you_ along with him, or ask _your_ leave and licence to go where he -pleases forsooth? Marry, come up, it's enough to make a pig laugh only -to listen to you." - -Just at this moment, and when Larry was meditating his reply, steps -were heard in the hall, and voices in debate. They were those of -Nicholas Blarden and of Sir Henry Ashwoode. Larry instantly recognized -the latter, and his companion both of them. - -"They're coming this way," gasped Larry, with agonized alarm. "Tare an' -ouns, evangelical girl, we're done for. Put me somewhere quick, or -begorra it's all over with us." - -"What's to be done, merciful Moses? Where can you go?" ejaculated the -terrified girl, surveying the room with frantic haste. "The press. Oh! -thank God, the press. Come along, quick, quick, Mr. Toole, for gracious -goodness sake." - -So saying, she rushed headlong at a kind of cupboard or press, whose -doors opened in the panelling of the wall, and fumbling with frightful -agitation among her keys, she succeeded at length in unlocking it, and -throwing open its door, exhibited a small orifice of about four feet -and a half by three in the wall. - -"Now, Mr. Toole, into it, as you vally your precious life--quick, -quick, for the love of heaven," ejaculated the maiden. - -Larry was firmly persuaded that the feat was a downright physical -impossibility; yet with a devotion and desperation which love and -terror combined alone could inspire, he mounted a chair, and, supported -by all the muscular strength of his soul's idol, scrambled into the -aperture. A projecting shelf about half way up threw his figure so much -out of equilibrium, that the task of keeping him in his place was no -light one. By main strength, however, the girl succeeded in closing the -door and locking her visitor fairly in, and before her master entered -the chamber, Mr. Toole became a close prisoner, and the key which -confined him was safely deposited in the charming Betsy's pocket. - -Blarden roared lustily to the servants, and with sundry impressive -imprecations, commanded them to remove every vestige of the breakfast -of which the prisoner had just clandestinely partaken. Meanwhile he -continued to walk up and down the room, whistling a lively ditty, and -here and there, at particularly sprightly parts, drumming with his foot -in time upon the floor. - -"Well, that job's done at last," said he. "The room's clean and quiet, -and we can't do better than take a twist at the cards. So let's have a -pack, and play your best, d'ye mind." - -This was addressed to Ashwoode, who, of course, acquiesced. - -"Oh, bloody wars, I'm in for it," murmured Larry, "they'll be playin' -here to no end, and I smothering fast, as it is; I'll never come out iv -this pisition with my life." - -Few situations could indeed be conceived physically more uncomfortable. -A shelf projecting about midway pressed him forward, exerting anything -but a soothing influence upon the backbone, so that his whole weight -rested against the door of his narrow prison, and was chiefly sustained -by his breast-bone and chin. In this very constrained attitude, and -afraid to relieve his fatigue by moving even in the very slightest -degree, lest some accidental noise should excite suspicion and betray -his presence, the ill-starred squire remained; his discomforts still -further enhanced by the pouring of some pickles, which had been -overturned upon an upper shelf, in cool streams of vinegar down his -back. - -"I could not have betther luck," murmured he. "I never discoorsed a -famale yet, but I paid through the nose for it. Didn't I get enough iv -romance, bad luck to it, an' isn't it a plisint pisition I'm in at -last--locked up in an ould cupboard in the wall, an' fairly swimming in -vinegar. Oh, the women, the women. I'd rather than every stitch of -cloth on my back, I walked out clever an' clane to meet the young -masther, and not let myself be boxed up this way, almost dying with the -cramps and the snuffication. Oh, them women, them women!" - -Thus mourned our helpless friend in inarticulate murmurings. Meanwhile -young Ashwoode opened two or three drawers in search of a pack of -cards. - -"There are several, I know, in that locker," said Ashwoode. "I laid -some of them there myself." - -"This one?" inquired Blarden, making the interrogatory by a sharp -application of the head of his cane to the very panel against which -Larry's chin was resting. The shock, the pain, and the exaggerated -loudness of the application caused the inmate of the press, in spite of -himself, to ejaculate,-- - -"Oh, holy Pether!" - -"Did you hear anything queer?" inquired Blarden, with some -consternation. "Anyone calling out?" - -"No," said Ashwoode. - -"Well, see what the nerves is," cried Blarden, "by ----, I'd have bet -ten to one I heard a voice in the wall the minute I hit that locker -door--this ---- weather don't agree with me." - -This sentence he wound up by administering a second knock where he had -given the first; and Larry, with set teeth and a grin, which in a -horse-collar would have won whole pyramids of gingerbread, nevertheless -bore it this time with the silent stoicism of a tortured Indian. - -"The nerves is a ---- quare piece of business," observed Mr. Blarden--a -philosophical remark in which Larry heartily concurred--"but get the -cards, will you--what the ---- is all the delay about?" - -In obedience to Ashwoode's summons, Mistress Betsy Carey entered the -room. - -"Carey," said he, "open that press and take out two or three packs of -cards." - -"I can't open the locker," replied she, readily, "for the young -mistress put the key astray, sir--I'll run and look for it, if you -please, sir." - -"God bless you," murmured Larry, with fervent gratitude. - -"Hand me that bunch of keys from under your apron," said Blarden, "ten -to one we'll find some one among them that'll open it." - -"There's no use in trying, sir," replied the girl, very much alarmed, -"it's a pitiklar soart of a lock, and has a pitiklar key--you'll -ruinate it, sir, if you go for to think to open it with a key that -don't fit it, so you will--I'll run and look for it if you please, -sir." - -"Give me that bunch of keys, young woman; give them, I tell you," -exclaimed Blarden. - -Thus constrained, she reluctantly gave the keys, and among them the -identical one to whose kind offices Mr. O'Toole owed his present -dignified privacy. - -"Come in here, Chancey," said Mr. Blarden, addressing that gentleman, -who happened at that moment to be crossing the hall--"take these keys -here and try if any of them will pick that lock." - -Chancey accordingly took the keys, and mounting languidly upon a chair, -began his operations. - -It were not easy to describe Mr. Toole's emotions as these proceedings -were going forward--some of the keys would not go in at all--others -went in with great difficulty, and came out with as much--some entered -easily, but refused to turn, and during the whole of these various -attempts upon his "dungeon keep," his mental agonies grew momentarily -more and more intense, so much so that he was repeatedly prompted to -precipitate the _denouement_, by shouting his confession from within. -His heart failed him, however, and his resolution grew momentarily -feebler and more feeble--he would have given worlds at that moment that -he could have shrunk into the pickle-pot, whose contents were then -streaming down his back--gladly would he have compounded for escape at -the price of being metamorphosed for ever into a gherkin. His prayers -were, however, unanswered, and he felt his inevitable fate momentarily -approaching. - -"This one will do it--I declare to God I have it at last," drawled -Chancey, looking lazily at a key which he held in his hand; and then -applying it, it found its way freely into the key-hole. - -"Bravo, Gordy, by ----," cried Blarden, "I never knew you fail -yet--you're as cute as a pet fox, you are." - -Mr. Blarden had hardly finished this flattering eulogium, when Chancey -turned the key in the lock: with astonishing violence the doors burst -open, and Larry Toole, Mr. Chancey, and the chair on which he was -mounted, descended with the force of a thunderbolt on the floor. In -sheer terror, Chancey clutched the interesting stranger by the throat, -and Larry, in self-defence, bit the lawyer's thumb, which had by a -trifling inaccuracy entered his mouth, and at the same time, with both -his hands, dragged his nose in a lateral direction until it had -attained an extraordinary length and breadth. In equal terror and -torment the two combatants rolled breathless along the floor; the -charming Betsy Carey screamed murder, robbery, and fire--while Ashwoode -and Blarden both started to their feet in the extremest amazement. - -"How the devil did you get into that press?" exclaimed Ashwoode, as -soon as the rival athletes had been separated and placed upon their -feet, addressing Larry Toole. - -"Oh! the robbing villain," ejaculated Mistress Betsy Carey--"don't -suffer nor allow him to speak--bring him to the pump, gentlemen--oh! -the lying villain--kick him out, Mr. Chancey--thump him, Sir -Henry--don't spare him, Mr. Blarden--turn him out, gentlemen all--he's -quite aperiently a robber--oh! blessed hour, but it's I that ought to -be thankful--what in the world wide would I do if he came powdering -down on me, the overbearing savage!" - -"Och! murder--the cruelty iv women!" ejaculated Larry, -reproachfully--"oh! murdher, beautiful Betsy." - -"Don't be talking to me, you sneaking, skulking villain," cried -Mistress Carey, vehemently, "you must have stole the key, so you must, -and locked yourself up, you frightful baste. For goodness gracious -sake, gentlemen, don't keep him talking here--he's dangerous--the -Turk." - -"Oh! the villainy iv women!" repeated Larry, with deep pathos. - -A brief cross-examination of Mistress Carey and of Larry Toole sufficed -to convict the fair maiden of her share in concealing the prisoner. - -"Now, Mr. Toole," said Ashwoode, addressing that personage, "you have -been once before turned out of this house for misconduct--I tell you, -that if you do not make good use of your time, and run as fast as your -best exertions will enable you, you shall have abundant reason to -repent it, for in five minutes more I will set the dogs after you; and -if ever I find you here again, I will have you ducked in the horse-pond -for a full hour--depart, sirrah--away--run." - -Larry did not require any more urgent remonstrances to induce him to -expedite his retreat--he made a contrite bow to Sir Henry--cast a look -of melancholy reproach at the beautiful Betsy, who, with a heightened -colour, was withdrawing from the scene, and then with sudden -nimbleness, effected his retreat. - -"The fellow," said Ashwoode, "is a servant of that O'Connor, whom I -mentioned to you. I do not think we shall ever have the pleasure of his -company again. I am glad the thing has happened, for it proves that we -cannot trust Carey." - -"That it does," echoed Blarden, with an oath. - -"Well, then, she shall take her departure hence before a week," -rejoined Ashwoode. "We shall see about her successor without loss of -time. So much for Mistress Carey." - - - - -CHAPTER LI. - -FLORA GUY. - - -"Why, I thought you had done for that fellow, that O'Connor," exclaimed -Blarden, after he had carefully closed the door. "I thought you had -pinked him through and through like a riddle--isn't he dead--didn't you -settle him?" - -"So I thought myself, but some troublesome people have the art of -living through what might have killed a hundred," rejoined Ashwoode; -"and I do not at all like this servant of his privately coming here, to -hold conference with my sister's maid--it looks suspicious; if it be, -however, as I suspect, I have effectually countermined them." - -"Well, then," replied Blarden, with an oath, "at all events we must set -to work now in earnest." - -"The first thing to be done is to find a substitute for the girl whom I -am about to dismiss," said Ashwoode, "we must select carefully, one -whom we can rely upon--do _you_ choose her?" - -"Why, I'm no great judge of such cattle," rejoined Blarden. "But here's -Chancey that understands them. I stake this ring to a sixpence he has -one in his eye this very minute that'll fit our purpose to a hair--what -do you say, Gordy, boy--can you hit on the kind of wench we want--eh, -you old sly boots?" - -Chancey sat sleepily before the fire, and a languid, lazy smile -expanded his sallow sensual face as he gazed at the bars of the grate. - -"Are you tongue-tied, or what?" exclaimed Blarden; "speak out--can you -find us such a one as we want? she must be a regular knowing devil, and -no mistake--as sly as yourself--a dead hand at a scheming game like -this--a deep one." - -"Well, maybe I do," drawled Chancey, "I think I know a girl that would -do, but maybe you'd think her too bad." - -"She can't be too bad for the work we want her for--what the devil do -you mean by BAD?" exclaimed Blarden. - -"Well," continued Chancey, disregarding the last interrogatory, "she's -Flora Guy, she attends in the 'Old Saint Columbkil,' a very arch little -girl--I think she'll do to a nicety." - -"Use your own judgment, I leave it all to you," said Blarden, "only get -one at once, do you mind, you know the sort we want." - -"I suppose she can't come any sooner than to-morrow, she must have -notice," said Chancey, "but I'll go in there to-day if you like, and -talk to her about it; I'll have her out with you here to-morrow to a -certainty, an' I declare to G---- she's a very smart little girl." - -"Do so," said Ashwoode, "and the sooner the better." - -Chancey arose, stuffed his hands into his breeches pockets according to -his wont, and with a long yawn lounged out of the room. - -"Do you keep out of the way after this evening," continued Sir Henry, -addressing himself to Blarden; "I will tell her that you are to leave -us this night, and that your visit ends; this will keep her quiet until -all is ready, and then she must be tractable." - -"Do you run and find her, then," said Blarden, "and tell her that I'm -off for town this evening--tell her at once--and mind, bring me word -what she says--off with you, doctor--ho, ho, ho!--mind, bring me word -what she says--do you hear?" - -With this pleasant charge ringing in his ears, Sir Henry Ashwoode -departed upon his honourable mission. - -Chancey strolled listlessly into town, and after an easy ramble, at -length found himself safe and sound once more beneath the roof of the -'Old Saint Columbkil.' He walked through the dingy deserted benches and -tables of the old tavern, and seating himself near the hearth, called a -greasy waiter who was dozing in a corner. - -"Tim, I'm rayther dry to-day, Timothy," said Mr. Chancey, addressing -the functionary, who shambled up to him more than half asleep; "what -will you recommend, Timothy--what do you think of a pot of light ale?" - -"Pint or quart?" inquired Tim shortly. - -"Well, we'll say a pint to begin with, Timothy," said Chancey, meekly; -"and do you see, Timothy, if Miss Flora Guy is on the tap; I wish she -would bring it to me herself--do you mind, Timothy?" - -Tim nodded and departed, and in a few minutes a brisk step was heard, -and a neat, good-humoured looking wench approached Mr. Chancey, and -planted a pint pot of ale before him. - -"Well, my little girl," said Chancey, with the quiet dignity of a -patron, "would you like to get a fine situation in a baronet's family, -my dear; to be own maid to a baronet's sister, where they eat off of -silver every day in the week, and have more money than you or I could -count in a twelve-month?" - -"Where's the good of liking it, Mr. Chancey?" replied the girl, -laughing; "it's time enough to be thinking of it when I get the offer." - -"Well, you _have_ the offer this minute, my little girl," rejoined -Chancey; "I have an elegant place for you--upon my conscience I -have--up at Morley Court, with Sir Henry Ashwoode; he's a baronet, -dear, and you're to be own maid to Miss Mary Ashwoode." - -"It can't be the truth you're telling me," said the girl, in unfeigned -amazement. - -"I declare to G--d, and upon my soul, it is the plain truth," drawled -Chancey; "Sir Henry Ashwoode, the baronet, asked me to recommend a -tidy, sprightly little girl, to be own maid to his elegant, fine -sister, and I recommended you--I declare to G--d but I did, and I come -in to-day from the baronet's house to hire you, so I did." - -"Well, an' is it in airnest you are?" said the girl. - -"What I'm telling you is the rale truth," rejoined Chancey: "I declare -to G--d upon my soul and conscience, and I wouldn't swear that in a -lie, if you like to take the place you can get it." - -"Well, well, after _that_--why, my fortune's made," cried the girl, in -ecstasies. - -"It is _so_, indeed, my little girl," rejoined Chancey; "your fortune's -made, sure enough." - -"An' my dream's out, too; for I was dreaming of nothing but washing, -and that's a sure sign of a change, all the live-long night," cried -she, "washing linen, and such lots of it, all heaped up; well, I'm a -sharp dreamer--ain't I, though?" - -"You will take it, then?" inquired Chancey. - -"_Will_ I--maybe I won't," rejoined she. - -"Well, come out to-morrow," said Chancey. - -"I can't to-morrow," replied she; "for all the table-cloth is to be -done, an' I would not like to disappoint the master after being with -him so long." - -"Well, can you next day?" - -"I can," replied she; "tell me where it is." - -"Do you know Tony Bligh's public--the old 'Bleeding Horse?'" inquired -he. - -"I do--right well," she rejoined with alacrity. - -"They'll direct you there," said Chancey; "ask for the manor of Morley -Court; it's a great old brick house, you can see it a mile away, and -whole acres of wood round it--it's a wonderful fine place, so it is; -remember it's Sir Henry himself you're to see when you go there; an' do -you mind what I'm saying to you, if I hear that you were talking and -prating about the place here to the chaps that's idling about, or to -old Pottles, or the sluts of maids, or, in short, to anyone at all, -good or bad, you'll be sure to lose the situation; so mind my advice, -like a good little girl, and don't be talking to any of them about -where you're going; for it wouldn't look respectable for a baronet to -be hiring his servants out of a tavern--do you mind me, dear." - -"Oh, never fear me, Mr. Chancey," she rejoined; "I'll not say a word to -a living soul; but I hope there's no fear the place will be taken -before me, by not going to-morrow." - -"Oh! dear me! no fear at all, I'll keep it open for you; now be a good -girl, and remember, don't disappoint." - -So saying he drained his pot of ale to the last drop, and took his -departure in the pleasing conviction that he had secured the services -of a fitting instrument to carry out the infernal schemes of his -employers. - - - - -CHAPTER LII. - -OF MARY ASHWOODE'S WALK TO THE LONESOME WELL--AND OF WHAT SHE SAW -THERE--AND SHOWING HOW SCHEMES OF PERIL BEGAN TO CLOSE AROUND HER. - - -On the following evening, Mary Ashwoode, in the happy conviction that -Nicholas Blarden was far away, and for ever removed from her -neighbourhood, walked forth at the fall of the evening unattended, to -ramble among the sequestered, but now almost leafless woods, which -richly ornamented the old place. Through sloping woodlands, among the -stately trees and wild straggling brushwood, now densely crowded -together, and again opening in broad vistas and showing the level -sward, and then again enclosing her amid the gnarled and hoary trunks -and fantastic boughs, all touched with the mellow golden hue of the -rich lingering light of evening, she wandered on, now treading the -smooth sod among the branching roots, now stepping from mossy stone to -stone across the wayward brook--now pausing on a gentle eminence to -admire the glowing sky and the thin haze of evening, mellowing all the -distant shadowy outlines of the landscape; and by all she saw at every -step beguiled into forgetfulness of the distance to which she had -wandered. - -She now approached what had been once a favourite spot with her. In a -gentle slope, and almost enclosed by wooded banks, was a small clear -well, an ancient lichen-covered arch enclosed it; and all around in -untended wildness grew the rugged thorn and dwarf oak, crowding around -it with a friendly pressure, and embowering its dark clear waters with -their ivy-clothed limbs; close by it stood a tall and graceful ash, and -among its roots was placed a little rustic bench where, in happier -times, Mary had often sat and read through the pleasant summer hours; -and now, alas! there was the little seat and there the gnarled roots -and the hoary stems of the wild trees, and the graceful ivy clusters, -and the time-worn mossy arch that vaulted the clear waters bubbling so -joyously beneath; how could she look on these old familiar friends, and -not feel what all who with changed hearts and altered fortunes revisit -the scenes of happier times are doomed to feel? - -For a moment she paused and stood lost in vain and bitter regrets by -the old well-side. Her reverie was, however, soon and suddenly -interrupted by the sound of something moving among the brittle -brushwood close by; she looked quickly in the direction of the noise, -and though the light had now almost entirely failed, she yet -discovered, too clearly to be mistaken, the head and shoulders of -Nicholas Blarden, as he pushed his way among the bushes toward the very -spot where she stood. With an involuntary cry of terror she turned, and -running at her utmost speed, retraced her steps toward the old mansion; -not daring even to look behind her, she pursued her way among the -deepening shadows of the old trees with the swiftness of terror; and, -as she ran, her fears were momentarily enhanced by the sound of heavy -foot-falls in pursuit, accompanied by the loud short breathing of one -exerting his utmost speed. On--on she flew with dizzy haste; the -distance seemed interminable, and her exhaustion was such that she felt -momentarily tempted to forego the hopeless effort, and surrender -herself to the mercy of her pursuer. At length she approached the old -house--the sounds behind her abated; she thought she heard hoarse -volleys of muttered imprecations, but not hazarding even a look behind, -she still held on her way, and at length, almost wild with fear, -entered the hall and threw herself sobbing into her brother's arms. - -"Oh God! brother; he's here; am I safe?" and she burst into hysterical -sobs. - -As soon as she was a little calmed, he asked her,-- - -"What has alarmed you, Mary; what have you seen to agitate you so?" - -"Oh! brother; have you deceived me; _is_ that fearful man still an -inmate of the house?" she said. - -"No; I tell you no," replied Ashwoode, "he's gone; his visit ended with -yesterday evening; he's fifty miles away by this time; tut--tut--folly, -child; you must not be so fanciful." - -"Well, brother, _he_ has deceived _you_," she rejoined, with the -earnestness of terror; "he is _not_ gone; he is about this place; so -surely as you stand there, I saw him; and, O God! he pursued me, and -had my strength faltered for a moment, or my foot slipped, I should -have been in his power;" she leaned down her head and clasped her hands -across her eyes, as if to exclude some image of horror. - -"This is mere raving, child," said Ashwoode, "the veriest folly; I tell -you the man is gone; you heard, if anything at all, a dog or a hare -springing through the leaves, and your imagination supplied the rest. I -tell you, once for all, that Blarden is threescore good miles away." - -"Brother, as surely as I see you, I saw him this night," she replied. -"I could not be mistaken; I saw him, and for several seconds before I -could move, such was the palsy of terror that struck me. I saw him, and -watched him advancing towards me--gracious heaven! for while I could -reckon ten; and then, as I fled, he still pursued; he was so near that -I actually heard his panting, as well as the tread of his -feet;--brother--brother--there was no mistake; there _could_ be none in -this." - -"Well, be it so, since you will have it," replied Ashwoode, trying to -laugh it off; "you have seen his _fetch_--I think they call it so. I'll -not dispute the matter with you; but this I will aver, that his -corporeal presence is removed some fifty miles from hence at this -moment; take some tea and get you to bed, child; you have got a fit of -the vapours; you'll laugh at your own foolish fancies to-morrow -morning." - - -That night Sir Henry Ashwoode, Nicholas Blarden, and their worthy -confederate, Gordon Chancey, were closeted together in earnest and -secret consultation in the parlour. - -"Why did you act so rashly--what could have possessed you to follow the -girl?" asked Ashwoode, "you have managed one way or another so -thoroughly to frighten the girl, to make her so fear and avoid you, -that I entirely despair, by fair means, of ever inducing her to listen -to your proposals." - -"Well, that does not take me altogether by surprise," said Blarden, -"for I have been suspecting so much this many a day; we must then go to -work in right earnest at once." - -"What measures shall we take?" said Ashwoode. - -"What measures!" echoed Blarden; "well, confound me if I know what to -begin with, there's such a lot of them, and all good--what do you say, -Gordy?" - -"You ought to ask her to marry you off-hand," said Chancey, demurely, -but promptly; "and if she refuses, let her be locked up, and treat her -as if she was _mad_--do you mind; and I'll go to Patrick's-close, and -bring out old Shycock, the clergyman; and the minute she strikes, you -can be coupled; she'll give in very soon, you'll find; little Ebenezer -will do whatever we bid him, and swear whatever we like; we'll all -swear that you and she are man and wife already; and when she denies -it, threaten her with the mad-house; and then we'll see if she won't -come round; and you must first send away the old servants--every -mother's skin of them--and get _new_ ones instead; and that's my -advice." - -"It's not bad, either," said Blarden, knitting his brows twice or -thrice, and setting his teeth. "I like that notion of threatening her -with Bedlam; it's a devilish good idea; and I'll give long odds it will -work wonders; what do you say, Ashwoode?" - -"Choose your own measures," replied the baronet. "I'm incapable of -advising you." - -"Well, then, Gordy, that's the go," said Blarden; "bring out his -reverence whenever I tip you the signal; and he shall have board and -lodging until the job's done; he'll make a tip-top domestic chaplain; I -suppose we'll have family prayers while he stays--eh?--ho, -ho!--devilish good idea, that; and Chancey'll act clerk--eh? won't you, -Gordy?" and, tickled beyond measure at the facetious suggestion, Mr. -Blarden laughed long and lustily. - -"I suppose I may as well keep close until our private chaplain arrives, -and the new waiting-maid," said Blarden; "and as soon as all is ready, -I'll blaze out in style, and I'll tell you what, Ashwoode, a precious -good thought strikes me; turn about you know is fair play; and as I'm -fifty miles away to-day, it occurs to me it would be a deuced good plan -to have _you_ fifty miles away to-morrow--eh?--we could manage matters -better if you were supposed out of the way, and that she knew I had the -whole command of the house, and everything in it; she'd be a cursed -deal more frightened; what do you think?" - -"Yes, I entirely agree with you," said Ashwoode, eagerly catching at a -scheme which would relieve him of all prominent participation in the -infamous proceedings--an exemption which, spite of his utter -selfishness, he gladly snatched at. "I will do so. I will leave the -house in reality." - -"No--no; my tight chap, not so fast," rejoined Blarden, with a savage -chuckle. "I'd rather have my eye on you, if you please; just write her -a letter, dated from Dublin, and say you're obliged to go anywhere you -please for a month or so; she'll not find you out, for we'll not let -her out of her room; and now I think everything is settled to a turn, -and we may as well get under the blankets at once, and be stirring -betimes in the morning." - - - - -CHAPTER LIII. - -THE DOUBLE FAREWELL. - - -Next day Mistress Betsy Carey bustled into her young mistress's chamber -looking very red and excited. - -"Well, ma'am," said she, dropping a short indignant courtesy, "I'm come -to bid you good-bye, ma'am." - -"How--what can you mean, Carey?" said Mary Ashwoode. - -"I hope them as comes after me," continued the handmaiden, vehemently, -"will strive to please you in all pints and manners as well as them -that's going." - -"Going!" echoed Mary; "why, this can't be--there must be some great -mistake here." - -"No mistake at all, ma'am, of any sort or description; the master has -just paid up my wages, and gave me my discharge," rejoined the maid. -"Oh, the ingratitude of some people to their servants is past bearing, -so it is." - -And so saying, Mistress Carey burst into a passion of tears. - -"There _is_ some mistake in all this, my poor Carey," said the young -lady; "I will speak to my brother about it immediately; don't cry so." - -"Oh! my lady, it ain't for myself I'm crying; the blessed saints in -heaven knows it ain't," cried the beautiful Betsy, glancing -devotionally upward through her tears; "not at all and by no means, -ma'am, it's all for other people, so it is, my lady; oh! ma'am, you -don't know the badness and the villainy of people, my lady." - -"Don't cry so, Carey," replied Mary Ashwoode, "but tell me frankly what -fault you have committed--let me know why my brother has discharged -you." - -"Just because he thinks I'm too fond of you, my lady, and too honest -for what's going on," cried she, drying her eyes in her apron with -angry vehemence, and speaking with extraordinary sharpness and -volubility; "because I saw Mr. O'Connor's man yesterday--and found out -that the young gentleman's letters used to be stopped by the old -master, God rest him, and Sir Henry, and all kinds of false letters -written to him and to you by themselves, to breed mischief between you. -I never knew the reason before, why in the world it was the master used -to make me leave every letter that went between you, for a day or more -in his keeping. Heaven be his bed; I was too innocent for them, my -lady; we were both of us too simple; oh dear! oh dear! it's a quare -world, my lady. And that wasn't all--but who do you think I meets -to-day skulking about the house in company with the young master, but -Mr. Blarden, that we all thought, glory be to God, was I don't know how -far off out of the place; and so, my lady, because them things has come -to my knowledge, and because they knowed in their hearts, so they did, -that I'd rayther be crucified than hide as much as the black of my nail -from you, my lady, they put me away, thinking to keep you in the dark. -Oh! but it's a dangerous, bad world, so it is--to put me out of the way -of tellin' you whatever I knowed; and all I'm hoping for is, that them -that's coming in my room won't help the mischief, and try to blind you -to what's going on;" hereupon she again burst into a flood of tears. - -"Good God," said Mary Ashwoode, in the low tones of horror, and with a -face as pale as marble, "_is_ that dreadful man here--have you seen -him?" - -"Yes, my lady, seen and talked with him, my lady, not ten minutes -since," replied the maid, "and he gave me a guinea, and told me not to -let on that I seen him--he did--but he little knew who he was speaking -to--oh! ma'am, but it's a terrible shocking bad world, so it is." - -Mary Ashwoode leaned her head upon her hand in fearful agitation. This -ruffian, who had menaced and insulted and pursued her, a single glance -at whose guilty and frightful aspect was enough to warn and terrify, -was in league and close alliance with her own brother to entrap and -deceive her--Heaven only could know with what horrible intent. - -"Carey, Carey," said the pale and affrighted lady, "for God's sake send -my brother--bring him here--I must see Sir Henry, your master--quickly, -Carey--for God's sake quickly." - -The young lady again leaned her head upon her hand and became silent; -so the lady's maid dried her eyes, and left the room to execute her -mission. - -The apartment in which Mary Ashwoode was now seated, was a small -dressing-room or boudoir, which communicated with her bed-chamber, and -itself opened upon a large wainscotted lobby, surrounded with doors, -and hung with portraits, too dingy and faded to have a place in the -lower rooms. She had thus an opportunity of hearing any step which -ascended the stairs, and waited, in breathless expectation, for the -sounds of her brother's approach. As the interval was prolonged her -impatience increased, and again and again she was tempted to go down -stairs and seek him herself; but the dread of encountering Blarden, and -the terror in which she held him, kept her trembling in her room. At -length she heard two persons approach, and her heart swelled almost to -bursting, as, with excited anticipation, she listened to their advance. - -"Here's the room for you at last," said the voice of an old female -servant, who forthwith turned and departed. - -"I thank you kindly, ma'am," said the second voice, also that of a -female, and the sentence was immediately followed by a low, timid knock -at the chamber door. - -"Come in," said Mary Ashwoode, relieved by the consciousness that her -first fears had been delusive--and a good-looking wench, with rosy -cheeks, and a clear, good-humoured eye, timidly and hesitatingly -entered the room, and dropped a bashful courtesy. - -"Who are you, my good girl, and what do you want with me?" inquired -Mary, gently. - -"I'm the new maid, please your ladyship, that Sir Henry Ashwoode hired, -if it pleases you, ma'am, instead of the young woman that's just gone -away," replied she, her eyes staring wider and wider, and her cheeks -flushing redder and redder every moment, while she made another -courtesy more energetic than the first. - -"And what is your name, my good girl?" inquired Mary. - -"Flora Guy, may it please your ladyship," replied the newcomer, with -another courtesy. - -"Well, Flora," said her new mistress, "have you ever been in service -before?" - -"No, ma'am, if you please," replied she, "unless in the old Saint -Columbkil." - -"The old Saint Columbkil," rejoined Mary. "What is that, my good girl?" - -The ignorance implied in this question was so incredibly absurd, that -spite of all her fears and all her modesty, the girl smiled, and looked -down upon the floor, and then coloured to the eyes at her own -presumption. - -"It's the great wine-tavern and eating-house, ma'am, in Ship Street, if -you please," rejoined she. - -"And who hired you?" inquired Mary, in undisguised surprise. - -"It was Mr. Chancey, ma'am--the lawyer gentleman, please your -ladyship," answered she. - -"Mr. Chancey!--I never heard of him before," said the young lady, more -and more astonished. "Have you seen Sir Henry--my brother?" - -"Oh! yes, my lady, if you please--I saw him and the other gentleman -just before I came upstairs, ma'am," replied the maid. - -"What other gentleman?" inquired Mary, faintly. - -"I think Sir Henry was the young gentleman in the frock suit of -sky-blue and silver, ma'am--a nice young gentleman, ma'am--and there -was another gentleman, my lady, with him; he had a plum-coloured suit -with gold lace; he spoke very loud, and cursed a great deal; a large -gentleman, my lady, with a very red face, and one of his teeth out. I -seen him once in the tap-room. I remembered him the minute I set eyes -on him, but I can't think of his name. He came in, my lady, with that -young lord--I forget _his_ name, too--that was ruined with play and -dicing, my lady; and they had a quart of mulled sack--it was I that -brought it to them--and I remembered the red-faced gentleman very well, -for he was turning round over his shoulder, and putting out his tongue, -making fun of the young lord--because he was tipsy--and winking to his -own friends." - -"What did my brother--Sir Henry--your master--what did he say to you -just now?" inquired Mary, faintly, and scarcely conscious what she -said. - -"He gave me a bit of a note to your ladyship," said the girl, fumbling -in the profundity of her pocket for it, "just as soon as he put the -other girl--her that's gone, my lady--into the chaise--here it is, -ma'am, if you please." - -Mary took the letter, opened it hurriedly, and with eyes unsteady with -agitation, read as follows:-- - - "MY DEAR MARY,--I am compelled to fly as fast as horseflesh can - carry me, to escape arrest and the entire loss of whatever little - chance remains of averting ruin. I don't see you before leaving - this--my doing so were alike painful to us both--perhaps I shall be - here again by the end of a month--at all events, you shall hear of - me some time before I arrive. I have had to discharge Carey for - very ill-conduct I have not time to write fully now. I have hired - in her stead the bearer, Flora Guy, a very respectable, good girl. - I shall have made at least two miles away in my flight before you - read this. Perhaps you had better keep within your own room, for - Mr. Blarden will shortly be here to look after matters in my - absence. I have hardly a moment to scratch this line. - - "Always your attached brother, - - "HENRY ASHWOODE." - -Her eye had hardly glanced through this production when she ran wildly -toward the door; but, checking herself before she reached it, she -turned to the girl, and with an earnestness of agony which thrilled to -her very heart, she cried,-- - -"Is he gone? tell me, as you hope for mercy, is he--_is_ he gone?" - -"Who, who is it, my lady?" inquired the girl, a good deal startled. - -"My brother--my brother: is he gone?" cried she more wildly still. - -"I seen him riding away very fast on a grey horse, my lady," said the -maid, "not five minutes before I came up stairs." - -"Then it's too late. God be merciful to me! I am lost, I have none to -guard me; I have none to help me--don't--don't leave me; for God's sake -don't leave the room for one instant----" - -There was an imploring earnestness of entreaty in the young lady's -accents and manner, and a degree of excited terror in her dilated eyes -and pale face, which absolutely affrighted the attendant. - -"No, my lady," said she, "I won't leave you, I won't indeed, my lady." - -"Oh! my poor girl," said Mary, "you little know the griefs and fears of -her you've come to serve. I fear me you have changed your lot, however -hard before, much for the worst in coming here; never yet did creature -need a friend so much as I; and never was one so friendless before," -and thus speaking, poor Mary Ashwoode leaned forward and wept so -bitterly that the girl was almost constrained to weep too for very -pity. - -"Don't take it to heart so much, my lady; don't cry. I'll do my best, -my lady, to serve you well; indeed I will, my lady, and true and -faithful," said the poor damsel, approaching timidly but kindly to her -young mistress's side. "I'll not leave you, my lady; no one shall harm -you nor hurt a hair of your head; I'll stay with you night and day as -long as you're pleased to keep me, my lady, and don't cry; sure you -won't, my lady?" - -So the poor girl in her own simple way strove to comfort and encourage -her desolate mistress. - -It is a wonderful and a beautiful thing how surely, spite of every -difference of rank and kind and forms of language, the words of -kindness and of sympathy--be they the rudest ever spoken, if only they -flow warm from the heart of a fellow-mortal--will gladden, comfort, and -cheer the sorrow-stricken spirit. Mary felt comforted and assured. - -"Do you be but true to me; stay by my side in this season of my sorest -trouble; and may God reward you as richly as I would my poor means -could," said Mary, with the same intense earnestness of entreaty. -"There is kindness and truth in your face. I am sure you will not -deceive me." - -"Deceive you, my lady! God forbid," said the poor maid, earnestly; "I'd -die before I'd deceive you; only tell me how to serve you, my lady, and -it will be a hard thing that I won't do for you." - -"There is no need to conceal from you what, if you do not already know, -you soon must," said Mary, speaking in a low tone, as if fearful of -being overheard; "that red-faced man you spoke of, that talked so loud -and swore so much, that man I fear--fear him more than ever yet I -dreaded any living thing--more than I thought I _could_ fear anything -earthly--him, this Mr. Blarden, we must avoid." - -"Blarden--Mr. Blarden," said the maid, while a new light dawned upon -her mind. "I could not think of his name--Nicholas Blarden--Tommy, that -is one of the waiters in the 'Columbkil,' my lady, used to call him -'red ruin.' I know it all now, my lady; it's he that owns the great -gaming house near High Street, my lady; and another in Smock Alley; I -heard Mr. Pottles say he could buy and sell half Dublin, he's mighty -rich, but everyone says he's a very bad man: I couldn't think of his -name, and I remember everything about him now; it's all found out. Oh! -dear--dear; then it's all a lie; just what I thought, every bit from -beginning to end--nothing else but a lie. Oh, the villain!" - -"What lie do you speak of?" asked Mary; "tell me." - -"Oh, the villain!" repeated the girl. "I wish to God, my lady, you were -safe out of this house----" - -"What is it?" urged Mary, with fearful eagerness; "what lie did you -speak of? what makes you now think my danger greater?" - -"Oh! my lady, the lies, the horrible lies he told me to-day, when Sir -Henry and himself were hiring me," replied she. "Oh! my lady, I'm sure -you are not safe here----" - -"For God's sake tell me plainly, what did they say?" repeated Mary. - -"Oh, ma'am, what do you think he told me? As sure as you're sitting -there, he told me he was a mad-doctor," replied she; "and he said, my -lady, how that you were not in your right mind, and that he had the -care of you; and, oh, my God, my lady, he told me never to be -frightened if I heard you crying out and screaming when he was alone -with you, for that all mad people was the same way----" - -"And was Sir Henry present when he told you this?" said Mary, scarce -articulately. - -"He was, my lady," replied she, "and I thought he turned pale when the -red-faced man said that; but he did not speak, only kept biting his -lips and saying nothing." - -"Then, indeed, my case is hopeless," said Mary, faintly, while all -expression, save that of vacant terror, faded from her face; "give me -some counsel--advise me, for God's sake, in this terrible hour. What -shall I do?" - -"Ah, my lady, I wish to the blessed saints I could," rejoined the girl; -"haven't you some friends in Dublin; couldn't I go for them?" - -"No--no," said she, hastily, "you must not leave me; but, thank God, -you have advised me well. I have one friend, and indeed only one, in -Dublin, whom I may rely upon, my uncle, Major O'Leary; I will write to -him." - -She sat down, and with cold trembling hands traced the hurried lines -which implored his succour; she then rang the bell. After some delay it -was answered by a strange servant; and, after a few brief inquiries, to -her unutterable horror she learned that all who remained of the old -faithful servants of the family had been dismissed, and persons whose -faces she had never seen before, hired in their stead. - -These were prompt and decisive measures, and ominously portended some -sinister catastrophe; the whole establishment reduced to a few -strangers, and--as she had too much reason to fear--tools and creatures -of the wretch Blarden. Having ascertained these facts, Mary Ashwoode, -without giving the letter to the man, dismissed him with some trivial -direction, and turning to her maid, said,-- - -"You see how it is; I am beset by enemies; may God protect and save me; -what shall I do? my mind--my senses, will forsake me. Merciful heaven! -what will become of me?" - -"Shall I take it myself, my lady?" inquired the maid. - -Mary raised herself eagerly, but with sudden dejection, said,-- - -"No--no; it cannot be; you must not leave me. I could not bear to be -alone here; besides, they must not think you are my friend; no, no, it -cannot be." - -"Well, my lady," said the maid decisively, "we'll leave the house -to-night; they'll not be on their guard against that, and once beyond -the walls, you're safe." - -"It is, I believe, the only chance of safety left me," replied Mary, -distractedly; "and, as such, it shall be tried." - - - - -CHAPTER LIV. - -THE TWO CHANCES--THE BRIBED COURIER. - - -"I don't half like the girl you've picked up," said Nicholas Blarden, -addressing his favourite parasite, Chancey; "she don't look half sharp -enough for our work; she hasn't the cut of a town lass about her; she's -too like a milk-maid, too simple, too soft. I've confounded misgivings -she's no schemer." - -"Well, well--dear me, but you're very suspicious," said Chancey. "I'd -like to know did ever anything honest come out of the 'Old Saint -Columbkil!' there wasn't a sharper little wench in the place than -herself, and I'll tell you that's a big word--no, no; there's not an -inch of the fool about her." - -"Well, she can't do us much mischief anyway," said Blarden; "the three -others are as true as steel--the devil's own chickens; and mind you -don't let the door-keys out of your pocket. Honour's all very fine, and -ought not to be doubted; but there's nothing to my mind like a stiff -bit of a rusty lock." - -Chancey smiled sleepily, and slapped the broad skirt of his coat twice -or thrice, producing therefrom the ringing clank which betoken the -presence of the keys in question. - -"So then we're all caged, by Jove," continued Blarden, rapturously; -"and very different sorts of game we are too: did you ever see the -show-box where the cats and the rats and the little birds are all boxed -up together, higgledy-piggledy, in the same wire cage. I can't but -think of it; it's so devilish like." - -"Well, well--dear me; I declare to God but you're a terrible funny -chap," said Chancey, enjoying a quiet chuckle; "but some way or -another," he continued, significantly, "I'm thinking the cat will have -a claw at the little bird yet." - -"Well, maybe it will;" rejoined Blarden, "you never knew one yet that -was not fond of a tit-bit when he could have it. Eh?" - -Thus playfully they conversed, seasoning their pleasantries with sack -and claret, and whatever else the cellars of Morley Court afforded, -until evening closed, and the darkness of night succeeded. - -Mary Ashwoode and her maid sat prepared for the execution of their -adventurous project; they had early left the outer room in which we saw -them last, and retired into her bedchamber to avoid suspicion; as the -night advanced they extinguished the lights, lest their gleaming -through the windows should betray the lateness of their vigil, and -alarm the fears of their persecutors. Thus, in silence and darkness, -not daring to speak, and almost afraid to breathe, they waited hour -after hour until long past midnight. The well-known sounds of riotous -swearing and horse-laughter, and the heavy trampling of feet, as the -half-drunken revellers staggered to their beds, now reached their ears -in noises faint and muffled by the distance. At length all was again -quiet, and nearly a whole hour of silence passed away ere they ventured -to move, almost to breathe. - -"Now, Flora, open the outer door softly," whispered Mary, "and listen -for any, the faintest sound; take off your shoes, and for your life -move noiselessly." - -"Never fear, my lady," responded the girl in a tone as low; and -slipping off her shoes from her feet, she pressed her hand upon the -young lady's wrist, to intimate silence, and glided into the little -boudoir. With sickening anxiety the young lady heard her cross the -small chamber, now and then stumbling against some pieces of furniture -and cautiously groping her way; at length the door-handle turned, and -then followed a silence. After an interval of a few seconds the girl -returned. - -"Well, Flora," whispered Mary, eagerly, as she approached, "is all -still?" - -"Oh! blessed hour! my lady, the door's locked on the outside," replied -the maid. - -"It can't be," said Mary Ashwoode, while her very heart sank within -her. "Oh! Flora, Flora--girl, don't say that." - -"It is indeed, my lady--as sure as I'm a living soul, it is so," -replied she fearfully; "and it was wide open when I came up. Oh! -blessed hour! my lady, what are we to do?" - -"I will try; I will see; perhaps you are mistaken. God grant you may -be," said the young lady, making her way to the door which opened on to -the lobby. She reached it--turned the handle--pressed it with all her -feeble strength, but in vain; it was indeed securely locked upon the -outside; her project of escape was baffled at the very outset, and with -a heart-sickening sense of terror and dismay--such as she had never -felt before--she returned with her attendant to her chamber. - -A night, sleepless, except for a few brief and fevered slumbers, -crowded with terrors, passed heavily away, and the morning found Mary -Ashwoode, pale, nervous, and feverish. She resolved, at whatever -hazard, to endeavour to induce one of the new servants to convey her -letter to Major O'Leary. The detection of this attempt could at worst -result in nothing worse than to precipitate whatever mischief Blarden -and his confederates had plotted, and which would if not so speedily, -at all events as surely overtake her, were no such attempt made. - -"Flora," said she, "I am resolved to try this chance, I fear me it is -but a poor one; you, however, my poor girl, must not be compromised -should it fail; you must not be exposed by your faithfulness to the -vengeance of these villains; do you go into the next room, and I will -try what may be done." - -So saying, she rang the bell, and in a few minutes it was answered by -the same man who had obeyed her summons on the day before. The man, -although arrayed in livery, had by no means the dapper air of a -professed footman, and possessed rather a villainous countenance than -otherwise; he stood at the door with one hand fumbling at the handle, -while he asked with an air half gruff and half awkward what she wanted. -She sat in silence for a minute like the enchanter whose spells have -been for the first time answered by the appearance of the familiar; too -much agitated and affrighted to utter her mandate; with a violent -effort she mastered her trepidation, and with an appearance of -self-possession and carelessness which she was far from feeling, she -said,-- - -"Can you, my good man, find a trusty messenger to carry a letter for me -to a friend in Dublin?" - -The man remained silent for some seconds, twisted his mouth into -several strange contortions, and looked very hard indeed at her. At -length he said, closing the door at the same time, and speaking in a -low key,-- - -"Well, I don't say but I _might_ find one, but there's a great many -things would make it very costly; maybe you could not afford to pay -him?" - -"I could--I would--see here," and she took a diamond ring from her -finger; "this is a diamond; it is of value--convey but this letter -safely and it is yours." - -The man took the ring from the table where she laid it, and examined it -curiously. - -"It's a pretty ring--it is," said he, removing it a little from his -eye, and turning it in different directions so as to make it flash and -sparkle in the light, "it _is_ a pretty ring, rayther small for my -fingers, though--it's a real diamond?" - -"It is indeed, valuable--worth forty pounds at least," she replied. - -"Well, then, here goes, it's worth a bit of a risk," and so saying he -deposited it carefully in a corner of his waistcoat pocket, "give me -the letter now, ma'am." - -She handed him the letter, and he thrust it into the deepest abyss of -his breeches pocket. - -"Deliver that letter but safely," said she, "and what I have given you -shall be but the earnest of what's to come, it is important--urgent--execute -but the mission truly, and I will not spare rewards." - -The man gave two short nods of huge significance, accompanied with a -slight grunt. - -"I say again, let me but have assurance that the message has been -done," repeated she, "and you shall have abundant reason to rejoice, -above all things dispatch--and--and--_secrecy_." - -The man winked very hard with one eye, and at the same time with his -crooked finger drew his nose so much on one side, that he seemed intent -on removing that feature into exile somewhere about the region of his -ear; and having performed this elegant and expressive pantomime for -several seconds, he stooped forward, and in an emphatic whisper said,-- - -"_Ne-ver fear._" - -He then opened the door and abruptly made his exit, leaving poor Mary -Ashwoode full of agitating hopes. - - - - -CHAPTER LV. - -THE FEARFUL VISITANT. - - -Two or three days had passed, during which Mary had ascertained the -fact that every door affording egress from the house was kept -constantly locked, and that the new servants, as well as Blarden and -his companions, were perpetually on the alert, and traversing the lower -apartments, so that even had the door of the mansion laid open it would -have been impossible to attempt an escape without encountering some one -of those whose chief object was to keep her in close confinement, -perhaps the very man from whose presence her inmost soul shrank in -terror--she felt, therefore, that she was as effectually and as -helplessly a prisoner as if she lay in the dungeons of a gaol. - -Often again had she endeavoured to see the man to whom she had confided -her letter to Major O'Leary, but in vain; her summons was invariably -answered by the others, and fearing to excite suspicion, she, of -course, did not inquire for him, and so, after a time, desisted from -her endeavours. - -Her window commanded a partial view of the old shaded avenue, and hour -after hour would she sit at her casement, watching in vain for the -longed-for appearance of her uncle, and listening, as fruitlessly, for -the clang of his horse's hoofs upon the stony court. - -"Oh! Flora, will he ever come?" she would exclaim, with a voice of -anguish, "will he ever--ever come to deliver me from this horrible -thraldom? I watch in vain, from the light of early dawn till darkness -comes--I watch in vain, for the welcome sight of my friend--in vain--in -vain I listen for the sound of his approach--heaven pity me, where shall -I turn for hope--all--all have forsaken me--all that ever I loved have -fallen from me, and left me desolate in this extremity--has he, too, my -last friend, forsaken me--will they leave me here to misery--oh, that -I might lay me down where head and heart are troubled no more, and be -at rest in the cold grave. He'll never come--no--no--no--never." - -Then she would wring her hands, still gazing from the casement, and -hopelessly sob and weep. - - -She knew not why it was that Nicholas Blarden had suffered her, for a -day or two, to be exempt from the dreaded intrusions of his hated -presence. But this afforded her little comfort; she knew not how -soon--at what moment--the monster might choose to present himself -before her under circumstances of horror so dreadful as those of her -present friendless and forsaken abandonment to his mercy--and when -these imminent fears were for an instant hushed, a thousand agonizing -thoughts, arising from the partial revelations of her late servant, -Carey, occupied her mind. That the correspondence between her and -O'Connor had been falsified--she dreaded, yet she hoped it might be -true--she feared, yet prayed it might be so--and while the thought that -others had wrought their estrangement, and that the coolness of -indifference had not touched the heart of him she so fondly loved -visited her mind, a thousand bright, but momentary hopes, fluttered her -poor heart, and, for an instant, her dangers and her fears were all -forgotten. - -The day had passed, and its broad, clear light had given place to the -red, dusky glow of sunset, when Mary Ashwoode heard the measured tread -of several persons approaching her room. With an instinctive -consciousness of her peril, she started to her feet, while every tinge -of colour fled entirely from her cheeks. - -"Flora--stay by me--oh, God, they are coming!" she said, and the words -had hardly escaped her lips, when the door of the boudoir, in which she -stood, was pushed open, and Nicholas Blarden, followed by Gordon -Chancey, entered the room. There was in the countenance of Blarden none -of his usual affectation of good humour; on the contrary, it wore a -scowl of undisguised and formidable menace, the effect of which was -enhanced by the baleful significance of the malignant glance which he -fixed upon her, and as he stood there biting his lips in ominous -silence, and gazing with savage, gloating eyes, upon the affrighted -girl, it were not easy to imagine an apparition more intimidating and -hideous. Even Chancey seemed a little uneasy in the anticipation of -what was coming, and the sallow face of the barrister looked more than -usually sallow, and his glittering eyes more glossy than ever. - -"Go out of the room, _you_--do you mind," said Blarden, grimly, -addressing Flora Guy, who had placed herself a little in advance of her -young mistress, and who stood mute and thunderstruck, looking upon the -two intruders--"are you palsied, or what--quit the room when I command -you, you brimstone fool;" and he clutched her by the shoulder, and -thrust her headlong out of the chamber, flinging the door to, with a -crash that made the walls ring again. - -"Listen to me and mind me, and weigh my words, or you'll rue it," said -he, with a tremendous oath, addressing himself to the speechless and -terrified lady. "I have a bit of information to give you, and then a -bit of advice after it; you must know it's my intention we shall be -married; mind me, _married_ to-morrow evening; I know you don't like -it; but _I_ do, and that's enough for my purpose; and whenever I make -my mind up to a thing, there is not that power in earth, or heaven, or -hell, to turn me from it. I was always considered a tough sort of a -chap when I was in earnest about anything; and I can tell you I'm -mighty well in earnest here; and now you may as well know how -completely I have you under my thumb; there is not a servant in the -house that does not belong to me; there is not a door in the house but -the key of it is in my keeping; there is not a word spoken in the house -but I hear it, nor a thing done that I don't know of it, and _here's -your letter for you_," he shouted, and flung her letter to Major -O'Leary open before her on the table. "How dare you tamper with my -servant's honesty? how _dare_ you?" thundered he, with a stamp upon the -floor which made the ornaments on the cabinet dance and jingle; "but -mind how you try it again--beware; mind how you offer to bribe them -again; I give you fair warning; you're my property now--to do what I -like with, just as much as my horse or my dog; and if you _won't_ obey -me, why I'll find a way to _make_ you; to-morrow evening I'll have a -parson here, and we'll be buckled; make no rout about it, and it will -be better for you, for whatever you do or say, if I had to get you into -a strait-waistcoat and clap a plaister over your mouth to keep you -quiet, married we shall be; husband and wife, and plenty of witnesses -to vouch for it; do you understand me, and no mistake; and if you're -foolish enough to make a row about it, I'll tell you what I'll do in -such a case," and he fixed his eyes with a still more horrible -expression upon her. "I have a particular friend, do you mind--a very -obliging, particular old friend that's a mad-doctor; do you hear me; -not a very lucky one to be sure, for he has made devilish few cures; a -mad-doctor, do you mind?--and I'll have him to reside here and -superintend your treatment; do you hear me? don't stand gaping there -like an idiot; do you hear me?" - -Blarden during this address had advanced into the room and stood by the -little table, leaning his knuckles upon it, and stooping forward and -advancing his menacing and hideous face, so as to diminish still -further the intervening distance, when, all on a sudden, like a -startled bird, she darted across the room, and ere they had time to -interpose, had opened the door, and was half-way across the lobby; she -passed Flora Guy, who was sobbing at the door with her apron to her -eyes, and at the head of the stairs beheld Sir Henry Ashwoode, no less -confounded at the rencounter than was she herself. - -"My brother! my brother!" she shrieked, and threw herself fainting into -his arms. - -Spite of all that was base in his character, the young man was so -shocked and confounded that he turned pale as death, and speech and -recollection for a moment forsook him. - -Almost at the same instant Chancey and Blarden were at his side. - -"What the devil ails you?" said Blarden, furiously, addressing -Ashwoode, "what do you stand there hugging her for, you white-faced -idiot?" - -Ashwoode's lips moved; but he could not speak, and the senseless burden -still lay in his arms. - -"Let her go, will you, you d----d oaf? take hold of the girl, Chancey, -and you, you idiot, come here and lend a hand; carry her into her room, -and mind, sweet lips, keep the key in your pocket; and if you want help -tatter the bells; get down, will you, you moon-struck fool?" he -continued, addressing Ashwoode; "what do you stand there for, with your -whitewashed face?" - -Ashwoode, scarcely knowing what he did, staggered down the stairs and -made his way to the parlour, where he sat gasping, with his face buried -in his hands. Meanwhile, with many a meek expression of pity, the -lawyer assisted Flora Guy in bearing the inanimate body of her mistress -into the chamber, where, in happy unconsciousness, she lay under the -tender care of her humble friend and servant. Blarden and Chancey -having accomplished the object of their mission, departed to the lower -regions to enjoy whatever good cheer Morley Court afforded. - - - - -CHAPTER LVI. - -EBENEZER SHYCOCK. - - -In pursuance of the arrangements which Mr. Blarden had, on the evening -before, announced to his intended victim, Gordon Chancey was despatched -early the next morning to engage the services of a clergyman for the -occasion. He knew pretty well how to choose his man, and for the most -part, when a plot was to be executed, in theatrical phrase, _cast_ the -parts well. He proceeded leisurely to the city, and sauntering through -the streets, found himself at length in Saint Patrick's Close; beneath -the shadow of the old Cathedral he turned down a narrow and deserted -lane and stopped before a dingy, miserable little shop, over whose -doorway hung a panel with the dusky and faded similitude of two great -keys crossed, now scarcely discernible through the ancient dust and -soot. The shop itself was a chaotic depository of old locks, holdfasts, -chisels, crowbars, and in short, of rusty iron in almost every -conceivable shape. Chancey entered this dusky shop, and accosting a -very grimed and rusty-looking little boy who was, with a file, -industriously employed in converting a kitchen candlestick into a -cannon, inquired,-- - -"I say, my good boy, does the Reverend Doctor Ebenezer Shycock stop -here yet?" - -"Aye, does he," said the youth, inspecting the visitor with a broad and -leisurely stare, while he wiped his forehead with his shirt sleeve. - -"Up the stairs, is it?" demanded Chancey. - -"Aye, the garrets," replied the boy. "And mind the hole in the top -lobby," he shouted after him, as he passed through the little door in -the back of the shop and began to ascend the narrow stairs. - -He did "mind the hole in the top lobby" (a very necessary caution, by -the way, as he might otherwise have been easily engulfed therein and -broken either his neck or his leg, after descending through the lath -and plaster, upon the floor of the landing-place underneath); and -having thus safely reached the garret door, he knocked thereupon with -his knuckles. - -"Come in," answered a female voice, not of the most musical quality, -and Chancey accordingly entered. A dirty, sluttish woman was sitting by -the window, knitting, and as it seemed, she was the only inmate of the -room. - -"Is the Reverend Ebenezer at home, my dear?" inquired the barrister. - -"He is, and he isn't," rejoined the female, oracularly. - -"How's that, my good girl?" inquired Chancey. - -"He's in the house, but he's not good for much," answered she. - -"Has he been throwing up the little finger, my dear?" said Chancey, "he -used to be rayther partial to brandy." - -"Brandy--brandy--who says brandy?" exclaimed a voice briskly from -behind a sheet which hung upon a string so as to screen off one corner -of the chamber. - -"Ay, ay, that's the word that'll waken you," said the woman. "Here's a -gentleman wants to speak with you." - -"The devil there is!" exclaimed the clerical worthy, abruptly, while -with a sudden chuck he dislodged the sheet which had veiled his -presence, and disclosed, by so doing, the form of a stout, short, -bull-necked man, with a mulberry-coloured face and twinkling grey -eyes--one of them in deep mourning. He wore a greasy red night-cap and -a very tattered and sad-coloured shirt, and was sitting upright in a -miserable bed, the covering of which appeared to be a piece of ancient -carpet. With one hand he scratched his head, while in the other he held -the sheet which he had just pulled down. - -"How are you, Parson Shycock?" said Chancey; "how do you find yourself -this morning, doctor?" - -"Tolerably well. But what is it you want with me? out with it, spooney. -Any job in my line, eh?" inquired the clergyman. - -"Yes, indeed, doctor," replied Chancey, "and a very good job; you're -wanted to marry a gentleman and a lady privately, not a mile and a half -out of town, this evening; you'll get five guineas for the job, and I -think that's no trifle." - -The parson mused, and scratched his head again. - -"Well," said he, "you must do a little job for me first. You can't be -ignorant that we members of the Church militant are often hard up; and -whenever I'm in a fix I pop wig, breeches, and gown, and take to my -bed; you'll find the three articles in this lane, corner house--sign, -three golden balls; present this docket--where the devil is it? ay, -here; all right--present this along with two guineas, paid in advance -on account of job: bring me the articles, and I'll get up and go along -with you in a brace of shakes. And stay; didn't I hear some one talking -of brandy? or--or was I dreaming? You may as well get in a half-pint, -for I'm never the thing till I have some little moderate refreshment; -so, dearly beloved, mizzle at once." - -"Dear me, dear me, doctor," said Chancey, "how can you think I'd go for -to bring two guineas along with me?" - -"If you haven't the _rhino_, this is no place for you, my fellow-sinner," -rejoined the couple-beggar; "and if you _have_, off with you and -deliver the togs out of pop. You wouldn't have a clergyman walk the -streets without breeches, eh, dearly beloved cove?" - -"Well, well, but you're a wonderful man," rejoined Chancey, with a -faint smile. "I suppose, then, I must do it; so give me the docket, and -I'll be here again as soon as I can." - -"And do you mind me, you stray sheep, you, don't forget the lush," -added the pastor. "I'm very desirous to wet my whistle; my mums, by the -hokey, is as dry as a Dutch brick. Good-bye to you, and do you mind, be -back here in the twinkling of a brace of bed-posts." - -With this injunction, and bearing the crumpled document, which the -reverend divine had given him, as his credentials with the pawnbroker, -Mr. Chancey cautiously lounged down the crazy stairs. - -"I say, my nutty Nancy," observed the parson, after a long yawn and a -stretch, addressing the female who sat at the window, "that chap's made -of money. I had a pint with him once in Clarke's public--round the -corner there. His name's Chancey, and he does half the bills in town--a -regular Jew chap." - -So saying, the Reverend Ebenezer Shycock, LL.D., unceremoniously rolled -himself out of bed and hobbled to a crazy deal box, in which were -deposited such articles of attire as had not been transmitted to the -obliging proprietor of the neighbouring three golden balls. - -While the reverend divine was kneeling before this box, and, with a -tenderness suited to their frail condition, removing the few scanty -articles of his wardrobe and laying them reverently upon a crazy stool -beside him, Mr. Chancey returned, bearing the liberated decorations of -the doctor's person, as also a small black bottle. - -"Oh, dear me, doctor," said Chancey, "but I'm glad to see you're -stirring. Here's the things." - -"And the--the lush, eh?" inquired the clergyman, peering inquisitively -round Chancey's side to have a peep at the bottle. - -"Yes, and the lush too," said the barrister. - -"Well, give me the breeches," said the doctor, with alacrity, clutching -those essential articles and proceeding to invest his limbs therein. -"And, Nancy, a sup of water and a brace of cups." - -A cracked mug and a battered pewter goblet made their appearance, and, -along with the ruin of a teapot which contained the pure element, were -deposited on a chair--for tables were singularly scarce in the reverend -doctor's establishment. - -"Now, my beloved fellow-sinner, mix like a Trojan!" exclaimed the -divine; "and take care, take care, pogey aqua, don't drown it with -water; chise it, _chise_ it, man, that'll do." - -With these words he grasped the vessel, nodded to Chancey, and -directing his two grey eyes with a greedy squint upon the liquor as it -approached his lips, he quaffed it at a single draught. - -Without waiting for an invitation, which Chancey thought his clerical -acquaintance might possibly forget, the barrister mingled some of the -same beverage for his own private use, and quietly gulped it down; -seeing which, and dreading Mr. Chancey's powers, which he remembered to -have already seen tested at "Clarke's public," the learned divine -abstractedly inverted the brandy bottle into his pewter goblet, and -shedding upon it an almost imperceptible dew from the dilapidated -teapot, he terminated the _symposium_ and proceeded to finish his -toilet. - -This was quickly done, and Mr. Gordon Chancey and the Reverend Ebenezer -Shycock--two illustrious and singularly well-matched ornaments of their -respective professions--proceeded arm in arm, both redolent of grog, to -the nearest coach stand, where they forthwith supplied themselves with -a vehicle; and while Mr. Chancey pretty fully instructed his reverend -companion in the precise nature of the service required of him, and, as -far as was necessary, communicated the circumstances of the whole case, -they traversed the interval which separated Dublin city from the manor -of Morley Court. - - - - -CHAPTER LVII. - -THE CHAPLAIN'S ARRIVAL AT MORLEY COURT--THE KEY--AND THE BOOZE IN THE -BOUDOIR. - - -The hall door was opened to the summons of the two gentlemen by no less -a personage than Nicholas Blarden himself, who, having carefully locked -it again, handed the key to his accomplice, Gordon Chancey. - -"Here, take it, Gordy, boy," exclaimed he, "I make you porter for the -term of the honeymoon. Keep the gates well, old boy, and never let the -keys out of your pocket unless I tell you. And so," continued he, -treating the Reverend Ebenezer Shycock to a stare which took in his -whole person, "you have caught the doctor and landed him fairly. -Doctor--what's your name? no matter--it's a delightful turn-up for a -sinner like me to have the heavenly consolation of your pious company. -Follow me in here; I dare say your reverence would not object to a -short interview with the brandy flask, or something of the kind--even -saints must wet their whistles now and again." - -So saying, Blarden led the way into the parlour. - -"Here, guzzle away, old gentleman, there's plenty of the stuff here," -said Blarden, "only beware how you make a beast of yourself. You -mustn't tie up your red rag, do you mind? We'll want you to stand and -read; and if you just keep senses enough for that, you may do whatever -you like with the rest." - -The clergyman nodded, and with a single sweep of his grey eyes, took in -the contents of the whole table. His shaking hand quickly grasped the -neck of the brandy flask, and he filled out and quaffed a comforting -bumper. - -"Now, take it easy, do, or, by Jove, you'll not _keep_ till evening," -said Blarden. "Chancey, have an eye on the parson, for his mind's so -intent on heaven that he may possibly forget where he is and what he's -doing. After dinner, Ashwoode and I have to go into town--some matters -that must be wound up before the evening's entertainment begins--we'll -be out, however, at eight o'clock or so. And mind this," he continued, -gripping the barrister's shoulder in his hand with an energizing -pressure, and speaking into his ear to secure attention, "you know that -little room upstairs wherein we had the bit of chat with my lady -love--the--the boudoir, I think they call it--now, mind me well--when -the dusk comes on, do you and his reverence there take your pipes and -your brandy, or whatever else you're amusing yourselves with at the -time, and sit in that same room together, so that not a mouse can cross -the floor unknown to you. Don't forget this, for we can't be too sharp. -Do you hear me, old Lucifer?" - -"Never fear, never fear," rejoined Mr. Chancey. "The Reverend Ebenezer -and I will spend the evening there--and, indeed, I declare to God, it's -a very neat little room, so it is, for a quiet pipe and a pot of sack." - -"Well, that's a point settled," rejoined Blarden. "And do you mind me, -don't let that beastly old sot knock himself up before we come home. Do -you hear me, old scarecrow," he continued, poking the reverend doctor -somewhere about the region of the abdomen with the hilt of his sword, -which he was adjusting at his side, and addressing himself to that -gentleman, "if I find you drunk when I return this evening, I'll make -it your last bout--I'll tap the brandy, old tickle pitcher, and stave -the cask, and send you to seek your fortune in the other world. Mind my -words--I'm not given to joking when I have real business on hand; and -faith, you'll find me as ready to _do_ as to promise." - -So saying, he left the room. - -"A rum cove, that, upon my little word," said the Reverend Ebenezer -Shycock, filling out another bumper of his beloved cordial. "Take the -bottle away at once; lock it up, my fellow-worm, lock it up, or I'll be -at it again. Lock it up while I have this glass in my hand, or I must -have another, and that might be--_might_, I say--_possibly_ might--but -d----n it, no, it can't--I will have one more." And so saying, with -desperate resolution, he quaffed what he had already in his hand and -filled out another. - -Chancey did not wait till he had repeated his mandate, but quietly -removed the seductive flask and placed it beyond the reach and the -sight of his clerical friend, who, feeling himself a little pleasant, -sat down before the hearth, and in a voice whose tone nearly resembled -that of a raven labouring under an affection of the chest, he chaunted -through his nose, with many significant winks and grimaces, a ditty at -that time in high acceptance among the votaries of vice and license, -and whose words were such as even the 'Old St. Columbkill' would hardly -have tolerated. This performance over--which, by the way, Chancey -relished in his own quiet way with intense enjoyment--the reverend -gentleman, composed himself for a doze for several hours, from which he -aroused himself to eat and to drink a little more. - -Thus pleasantly the day wore on, until at length the sun descended in -glory behind the far-off blue hills, and the pale twilight began to -herald the approach of night. - -That day Mary Ashwoode appeared to have lost all energy of thought and -feeling; she lay pale and silent upon her bed, seeming scarcely -conscious even of the presence of her faithful attendant. From the -moment of her yesterday's interview with Blarden, and the meeting with -her brother, she had been thus despairing and stupefied. Flora Guy sat -in the window, sometimes watching the pale face of the wretched lady, -and at others looking out upon the old woodlands and the great avenue, -darkened among its double rows of huge old limes. As the day wore on -she suddenly exclaimed,-- - -"Oh, my lady, here's a gentleman coming with Mr. Chancey up the avenue, -I see them between the trees, and the coach driving away." - -"Can it--_can_ it be?" exclaimed Mary, starting wildly up in the -bed--"is it he?" - -"It's a little stout gentleman, with a red pimply face--they're talking -under the window now, my lady; he has a band on, and a black gown -across his arm--as sure as daylight, my lady--he is--blessed hour; he -_is_ a parson." - -Mary Ashwoode did not speak, but the momentary flash of hope faded from -her face, and was succeeded by a paleness so deadly that lips and -cheeks looked bloodless as the marble lineaments of a statue; in dull -and silent despair she sank again where she had lain before. - -"Don't fear them, my lady," said the poor girl, placing herself by the -bedside where, more like a corpse than a living being, her hapless -mistress lay; "I will not leave you, and though they may threaten, they -dare not hurt you--don't fear them, my lady." - -The blanched cheeks and evident excitement of the honest maiden, -however, too clearly belied her words of encouragement. - -Twice or thrice the girl, in the course of the day, locking the door of -her mistress's chamber, according to the orders of Nicholas Blarden and -his confederates, but less in obedience to them than for the sake of -_her_ security, ran downstairs to learn whatever could be gathered from -the servants of the intended movements of the conspirators; each time, -as she descended the stairs, the parlour bell was rung, and a servant -encountered her before she had well reached the hall; and Mr. Chancey, -too, with his hands in his pockets, and his cunning eyes glittering -suspiciously through their half-closed lids, would meet and question -her before she passed: were ever sentinels more vigilant--was ever -_surveillance_ more jealous and complete? - -During these excursions she picked up whatever was to be learned of the -intentions of those in whose power her young mistress now helplessly -and despairingly lay. - -"Sir Henry Ashwoode and Mr. Blarden is gone to town together, my lady," -said the maid, in a whisper, for she felt the vigilance of Chancey and -his creatures might pursue her even to the chamber where she stood; -"they'll not be out till about eight o'clock, my lady, at the soonest, -maybe not till near nine or ten; at any rate it will be dark long -before they come, and God knows what may turn up before then--don't -lose heart, my lady--don't give up." - -In vain, entirely in vain, however, were the words of hope and courage -spoken; they fell cold and dead upon the palsied senses and stricken -heart of despairing terror. Mary Ashwoode scarcely understood, and -seemed not even to have heard them. - -As the evening approached the poor girl made another exploring ramble, -in the almost desperate speculation that she might possibly hit upon -something which might suggest even a hint of some mode of escape. -Having encountered Chancey and one of the serving men, as usual, and -passed her examination, she crossed the large old hall, and without any -definite pre-determination, entered Sir Henry's study, where he and -Blarden had been sitting, and carelessly thrown upon the table a large -key. For a moment she could scarcely believe her eyes, and her heart -bounded high with hope as she grasped it quickly and rolled it in her -apron--"Could it be the key of one of the doors through which alone -liberty was to be regained?" With a deliberate step, which strangely -belied her restless anxiety, she passed the door within which Chancey -was sitting, and ascended to the young lady's chamber. - -"My lady, is this it?" exclaimed she, almost breathless with -excitement, and holding the key before the lady's face. - -Mary Ashwoode with a momentary eagerness glanced at it. - -"No, no," said she, faintly, "I know all the keys of the outer doors; -it was I who brought them to my father every night; but this is none of -them--no, no, no, no." There was a dulness and apathy upon the young -lady, and a seeming insensibility to everything--to hope, to danger--to -all, in short, which had intensely interested every faculty of mind and -feeling but the day before--which frightened and dismayed her humble -friend. - -"Don't, my lady--don't give up--oh, sure you won't lose heart entirely; -see if I won't think of something--never mind, if I don't think of some -way or another yet." - -The red discoloured tints of evening were now fading from the -landscape, and rapidly giving place to the dim twilight--the harbinger -of a night of dangers, terrors, and adventures; and as the poor maiden -sat by the young lady's side, with a heart full of dark and ominous -foreboding, she heard the door of the outer chamber--the little boudoir -which we have often had occasion to mention--opened, and two persons -entered it. - -"They are here--they are come. Oh, God! they are here," exclaimed Mary -Ashwoode, clasping her small hand in terror round the girl's wrist. - -"The door's locked, my lady," said the girl, scarcely less terrified -than her mistress; "they can't come in without letting us know first.' -So saying, she ran to the door and peeped through the keyhole, to -reconnoitre the party, and then stepping on tip-toe to the young lady, -who, more dead than alive, was sitting by the bed-side, she said in a -whisper,-- - -"Who do you think it is, ma'am? blessed hour! my lady, who should it be -but that lawyer gentleman--that Mr. Chancey, and the old parson--they -are settling themselves at the table." - -Mr. Gordon Chancey and the Reverend Ebenezer Shycock were determined to -make themselves comfortable in their new quarters. Accordingly they -heaped wood and turf upon the expiring fire, and compelled the servant -to ply the kitchen bellows, until the hearth crackled and roared again; -then drawing the table to the fire-side--a pretty little work-table of -poor Mary's--now covered with brandy-flasks, pieces of tobacco, pipes, -and the other apparatus of their coarse debauch--the two worthies, -illuminated by a pair of ponderous wax-candles, and by the blaze of a -fire, and having drawn the curtains, sat themselves down and commenced -their jolly vigils. - -Chancey possessed the rare faculty of preserving his characteristic -cunning throughout every phase and stage of intoxication short of -absolute insensibility; on the present occasion, however, he was -resolved not to put this convenient accomplishment to the test. The -goodwill of Nicholas Blarden was too lucrative a possession to be -lightly parted with, and he could not afford to hazard it by too free -an indulgence upon the present important occasion; he therefore -conducted his assaults upon the bottle with a very laudable -abstemiousness. Not so, however, his clerical companion; he, too, had, -in connection with his convivial frailties, a compensating gift of his -own; he possessed, in an eminent degree, the power of recovering his -intellects upon short notice from the influence of brandy, and of -descending almost at a single bound from the loftiest altitude of -drunken inspiration to the dull insipid level of ordinary sobriety; all -he asked was fifteen minutes to bring himself to. He used to say with -becoming pride--"If I could have done it in _ten_, I'd have been a -bishop by this time; but _dis aliter visum_; I had not time one -forenoon; being wapper-eyed, I was five minutes short of my allowance -to get right, consequently officiated oddly--fell on my back on the way -out, and couldn't get up; but what signifies it? I'm better off, as -matters stand, ten to one; so here goes, my fellow-sinner, to it again; -one brimmer more." - -The reverend doctor, therefore, was much less cautious than his -companion, and soon began to exhibit very unequivocal symptoms of a -declension in his intellectual and physical energies, and a more than -corresponding elevation in his hilarious spirits. - -"I say," said Chancey, "my good man, you'd better stop; you have too -much in as it is; they'll be here before half-an-hour, and if Mr. -Blarden finds you this way, I declare to God I think he'll crack your -neck down the staircase." - -"Well, dearly beloved," said the clerical gentleman, "I believe you -_are_ right; I'll bring myself to. I _am_ a little heavy-eyed or so; -all I ask for is a towel and cold water." So saying, with many a screw -of the lips, and many a hiccough, he made an effort to rise, but -tumbled back--with an expression of the most heavenly benevolence--into -his chair, knocking his head with an audible sound upon the back of it, -and at the same time overturning one of the candles. - -"Pull the bell, dearly beloved," said he, with a smile and a -hiccough--"a basin of water and a towel." - -"Devil broil you, for a drunken beast," said Chancey, seriously alarmed -at the condition of the couple-beggar; "he'll never be fit for his work -to-night." - -"Fifteen minutes, neither more nor less," hiccoughed the divine, with -the same celestial smile--"towel, basin of cold water, and fifteen -minutes." - -Chancey did procure the cold water and a napkin, which, being laid -before the clergyman, he proceeded with much deliberation, while -various expressions of stupendous solemnity and beaming benevolence -flitted in beautiful alternations across his expressive countenance, to -prepare them for use. He doffed his wig, and first bathing his head, -face, and temples completely in the cool liquid, saturated the towel -likewise therein, and wound it round his shorn head in the fashion of a -Turkish turban; having accomplished which feat, he leaned back in his -chair, closed his eyes, and became, to all intents and purposes, for -the time being, stone dead. - -Leaving his reverend companion undisturbed to the operation of his own -hydropathic treatment, Gordon Chancey drew his seat near to the fire, -and filling his pipe anew with tobacco, leaned back in the chair, -crossed his legs, and more than half closing his eyes, prepared himself -luxuriously for what he called "a raal elegant draw of particular -pigtail." - - - - -CHAPTER LVIII. - -THE SIGNAL. - - -Flora Guy peeped eagerly through the keyhole of her lady's chamber into -the little apartment in which the two boon companions were seated. -After reconnoitring for a very long time, she moved lightly to her -mistress's side, and said, in a low but distinct tone,-- - -"Now, my lady, you must get up and rouse yourself--for God's sake, -mistress dear, shake off the heaviness that's over you, and we have a -chance left still." - -"Are they not in the next room to us?" inquired Mary. - -"Yes, my lady," replied the maid, "but the parson gentleman is drunk or -asleep, and Mr. Chancey is there alone--and--and has the four keys -beside him on the table; don't be frightened, my lady, do you stay -quite quiet, and I'll go into the room." - -Mary Ashwoode made no answer, but pressed the poor girl's hand in her -cold fingers, and without moving, almost without breathing, awaited the -result. Flora Guy, meanwhile, opened the door, and passed into the -outer apartment, assuming, as she did so, an air of easy and careless -indifference. Chancey turned as she entered the room, fanning the smoke -of his tobacco pipe aside with his hand, and eying her with a jealous -glance. - -"Well, my little girl," said he, "and what makes you leave your young -lady, my dear?" - -"An' is a body never to get an instant minute to themselves?" rejoined -she, with an indignant toss of her head; "why then, I tell you what it -is, Mr. Chancey, I'm tired to death, so I am, sitting in that little -room the whole blessed day, and not a word, good or bad, will the young -lady say--she's gone stupid like." - -"Is the door locked?" said Chancey, suspiciously, and at the same time -rising and approaching the young lady's chamber. - -As he did so, Flora Guy, availing herself instantly of this averted -position, snatched up, without waiting to choose, one of the four great -keys which lay upon the table, and replaced it dexterously with that -which she had but a short time before shown to her mistress; in doing -so, however, spite of all her caution, a slight clank was audible. - -"Well, _is_ it locked?" inquired the damsel, hoping by the loud tone in -which she uttered the question to drown the suspicious sounds which -threatened her schemes with instant detection. - -"Yes, it is locked," rejoined Chancey, glancing quickly at the keys; -"but what do you want there? move off from my place, will you?" and -shambling to the table he hastily gathered the four keys in his grasp, -and thrust them into his deep coat pocket. - -"You're in a mighty quare humour, so you are, Mr. Chancey," said the -girl, affecting a saucy tone, through which, had his ear been listening -for the sound, he might have detected the quaver of extreme agitation, -"you usedn't to be so cross by no means at the Columbkil, but mighty -pleasant, so you used." - -"Well, my little girl," said Chancey, whose suspicions were now -effectually quieted, "I declare to God you're the first that ever said -I was bad tempered, so you are--will you have something to drink?" - -"What have you there, Mr. Chancey?" inquired she. - -"This is brandy, my little girl, and this is sack, dear," rejoined -Chancey, "both of them elegant; you must have whichever you like--which -will you choose, dear?" - -"Well, then, I'll have a little drop of the sack, mulled, I thank you, -Mr. Chancey," replied she. - -"There's nothing to mull it in here, my little girl," objected the -barrister. - -"Oh, but I'll get it in a minute though," replied she, "I'll run down -for a saucepan." - -"Well, dear, run away," replied he, "but don't be long, for Miss -Ashwoode might want you, my little girl, and it wouldn't do if you were -out of the way, you know." - -Without waiting to hear the end of this charge, Flora Guy ran down the -staircase, and speedily returned with the utensil required. - -"Maybe I'd better go in for a minute first, and see if she wants me," -suggested the girl. - -"Very well, my dear," replied Chancey. - -And accordingly, she turned the key in the chamber door, closed it -again, and stood by the young lady's side; such was her agitation that -for three or four seconds she could not speak. - -"My lady," at length she said, "I have one of the keys--when I go in -next I'll leave your room door unlocked, only closed just, and no -more--the lobby door is ajar--I left it that way this very minute; and -when you hear me saying 'the sack's upset!'--do you open your door, and -cross the room as quick as light, and out on the lobby, and stop by the -stairs, my lady, and I'll follow you as fast as I can. Here, my lady," -continued the poor girl, bringing a small box from her mistress's -toilet; "your rings, my lady--they'll be wanted--mind, your rings, my -lady--there is the little case, keep it in your pocket; if we escape, -my lady, they'll be wanted--mind, Mr. Chancey has ears like needle -points. Keep up your heart, my lady, and in the name of God we'll try -this chance." - -"Into His hands I commit myself," said the young lady, with a tone and -air of more firmness and energy than she had shown for days; "my heart -is strengthened, my courage comes again--oh, thank God, I am equal to -this dreadful hour." - -Flora Guy made a gesture of silence, and then, opening the door -briskly, and shutting it again with an ostentatious noise, and drawing -the key from the lock, she crossed the room to where Chancey, who had -watched her entrance, was sitting. - -"Well, my dear," said he, "how is that delicate young lady in there?" - -"Why, she's raythur bad, I'm afraid," rejoined the girl; "she's the -whole day long in a sort of a heavy dulness like--she don't seem to -mind anything." - -"So much the better, my dear," said Chancey, "she'll be the less -inclined to gad, or to be troublesome--come, mix the spices and the -sugar, dear, and settle the liquor in the saucepan--you want some -refreshment, so you do, for I declare to God, I never saw anyone so -pale in all my life as you are this minute." - -"I'll not be long so," said the girl, affecting a tone of briskness, -and proceeding to mingle the ingredients in the little saucepan, "for I -think if I was dead itself, let alone a little bit tired, a cup of -mulled sack would cheer me up again." - -So saying, she placed the little saucepan on the bar. - -"Is the parson asleep?" inquired she. - -"Indeed, my dear, I'm very much afraid it's tipsy he is," drawled -Chancey, demurely, "take care of that clergyman, my dear, for indeed -I'm afraid he has very loose conduct." - -"Will I blacken his nose with a burned cork?" inquired she. - -"Oh! no, my little girl," replied Chancey, with a tranquil chuckle, and -turning his sleepy grey eyes upon the apoplectic visage of the -stupefied drunkard who sat bolt upright before him; "no, no, we don't -know the minute he may be wanted; he'll have to perform the ceremony -very soon, my dear; and Mr. Blarden, if he took the fancy, would think -nothing of braining half a dozen of us. I declare to God he wouldn't." - -"Well, Mr. Chancey, will you mind the little saucepan for one minute," -said she, "while I'm putting a bit of turf or a few sticks under it." - -"Indeed I will," said he, turning his eyes lazily upon the utensil, but -doing nothing more to secure it. Flora Guy accordingly took some wood, -and, pretending to arrange the fire, overturned the wine; the loud hiss -of the boiling liquid, and the sudden cloud of whirling steam and -ashes, ascending toward the ceiling, and puffing into his face, half -confounded the barrister, and at the same instant, Flora Guy, clapping -her hands, and exclaimed with a shrill cry,-- - -"_The sack's upset! the sack's upset!_ lend a hand, Mr. Chancey--Mr. -Chancey, do you hear?" and, while thus conjured, the barrister, in -obedience to her vociferous appeal, made some indistinct passes at the -saucepan with the poker, which he had grasped at the first alarm; the -damsel, without daring to look directly where every feeling would have -riveted her eyes, beheld a dark form glide noiselessly behind Chancey, -and pass from the room. For the moment, so intense was her agony of -anxiety, she felt upon the very point of fainting; in an instant more, -however, she had recovered all her energies, and was bold and -quick-witted as ever; one glance in the direction of the lady's chamber -showed her the door slowly swinging open; fortunately the barrister was -at the moment too much occupied with the extraction of the remainder of -the saucepan from the fire, to have yet perceived the treacherous -accident, one glance at which would have sealed their ruin, and Flora -Guy, running noiselessly to the door, remedied the perilous disclosure -by shutting it softly and quickly; and then, with much clattering of -the key, and a good deal of pushing beside, forcing it open again, she -passed into the room and spoke a little in a low tone, as if to her -mistress; and then, returning, she locked the door of the then -untenanted chamber in real earnest, and, crossing to Chancey, said:--"I -wonder at you, so I do, Mr. Chancey; you frightened the young mistress -half out of her wits; and I'm all over dust and ashes; I must run down -and wash every inch of my face and hands, so I must; and here, Mr. -Chancey, will you keep the key of the bed-room till I come back? afraid -I might drop it; and don't let it out of your hands." - - [Illustration: "Glide noiselessly behind Chancey." - _To face page 293._] - -"I will indeed, dear; but don't be long away," rejoined the barrister, -extending his hand to receive the key of the now vacant chamber. - -So Flora Guy boldly walked forth upon the lobby, and closing the -chamber door behind her, found herself in the vast old gallery, hung -round with grim and antique portraits, and lighted only by the fitful -beams of a clouded moon shining doubtfully through the stained glass of -a solitary window. - -Mary Ashwoode awaited her approach, concealed in a small recess or -niche in the wall, shrined like an image in the narrow enclosure of -carved oak, not daring to stir, and with a heart throbbing as though it -would burst. - -"My lady, are you there?" whispered the maid, scarce audibly; great -nervous excitement renders the sense morbidly acute, and Mary Ashwoode -heard the sound distinctly, faint though it was, and at some distance -from her; she stepped falteringly from her place of concealment, and -took the hand of her conductress in a grasp cold as that of death -itself, and side by side they proceeded down the broad staircase. They -had descended about half-way when a loud and violent ringing from the -bell of the chamber where Chancey was seated made their very hearts -bound with terror; they stood fixed and breathless on the stair where -the fearful peal had first reached their ears. Again the summons came -louder still, and at the same moment the sounds of steps approached -from below, and the gleam of a candle quickly followed; Mary Ashwoode -felt her ears tingle and her head swim with terror; she was on the -point of sinking upon the floor. In this dreadful extremity her -presence of mind did not forsake Flora Guy: disengaging her hand from -that of her terrified mistress, she tripped lightly down the stairs to -meet the person who was approaching--a turn in the staircase confronted -them, and she saw before her the serving man whose treachery had -already defeated Mary Ashwoode's hopes of deliverance. - -"What keeps you such a time answering the bell?" inquired she, saucily, -"you needn't go up now, for I've got your message; bring up clean cups -and a clean saucepan, for everything's destroyed with the dust and dirt -Mr. Chancey's after kicking up; what did he do, do you think, but -upsets the sack into the fire. Now be quick with the things, will you? -the bell won't be easy one minute till they're done." - -"Give me a kiss, sweet lips," exclaimed the man, setting down his -candle, "and I'll not be a brace of shakes about the message; come, you -_must_," he continued, playfully struggling with the affrighted girl. - -"Well, do the message first, at any rate," said she, forcing herself, -with some difficulty, from his grasp, as the bell rang a third time; -"it will be a nice piece of business, so it will, if Mr. Chancey comes -down and catches you here, pulling me about, so it will, you'll look -well, won't you, when he's telling it to Mr. Blarden?--don't be a -fool." - -The reiterated application to the bell had more effect upon the serving -man than all her oratory, and muttering a curse or two, he ran down, -determined, vindictively, to bring up soiled cups, and a dirty -saucepan. The man had hardly departed, when the maid exclaimed, in a -hurried whisper, "Come--come--quick--quick, for your life!" and with -scarcely the interval of three seconds, they found themselves in the -hall. - -"Here's the key, my lady; see which of the doors does it open," -whispered she, exhibiting the key in the dusky and imperfect light. - -"Here--here--this way," said Mary Ashwoode, moving with weak and -stumbling steps through a tiled lobby which opened upon the great hall, -and thence along a narrow passage upon which several doors opened. -"Here, here," she exclaimed, "this door--this--I cannot open it--my -strength is gone--this is it--for God's sake, quickly." - -After two or three trials, Flora Guy succeeded in getting the key into -the lock, and then exerting the whole strength of her two hands, with a -hoarse jarring clang the bolt revolved, the door opened, and they stood -upon the fresh and dewy sward, beneath the shadow of the old -ivy-mantled walls. The girl locked the door upon the outside, fearful -that its lying open should excite suspicion, and flung the key away -into the thick weeds and brushwood. - -"Now, my lady, the shortest way to the high road?" inquired Flora in a -hurried whisper, and supporting, as well as she could, the tottering -steps of her mistress, "how do you feel, my lady? Don't lose heart now, -a few minutes more and you will be safe--courage--courage, my lady." - -"I am better now, Flora," said Mary faintly, "much better--the cool air -refreshes me." As she thus spoke, her strength returned, her step grew -fleeter and firmer, and she led the way round the irregular ivy-clothed -masses of the dark old building and through the stately trees that -stood gathered round it. Over the unequal sward they ran with the light -steps of fear, and under the darksome canopy of the vast and ancient -linden-trees, gliding upon the smooth grass like two ghosts among the -chequered shade and dusky light. On, on they sped, scarcely feeling the -ground beneath their feet as they pursued their terrified flight; they -had now gained the midway distance in the ancient avenue between the -mansion and great gate, and still ran noiselessly and fleetly along, -when the quick ear of Mary Ashwoode caught the distant sounds of -pursuit. - -"Flora--Flora--oh, God! we are followed," gasped the young lady. - -"Stop an instant, my lady," rejoined the maid, "let us listen for a -second." - -They did pause, and distinctly, between them and the old mansion, they -heard, among the dry leaves with which in places the ground was strewn, -the tread of steps pursuing at headlong speed. - -"It is--it is, I hear them," said Mary distractedly. - -"Now, my lady, we must run--run for our lives; if we but reach the road -before them, we may yet be saved; now, my lady, for God's sake don't -falter--don't give up." - -And while the sounds of pursuit grew momentarily louder and more loud, -they still held their onward way with throbbing hearts, and eyes almost -sightless with fatigue and terror. - - - - -CHAPTER LIX. - -HASTE AND PERIL. - - -The rush of feet among the leaves grew every moment closer and closer -upon them, and now they heard the breathing of their pursuer--the -sounds came near--nearer--they approached--they reached them. - -"Oh, God! they are up with us--they are upon us," said Mary, stumbling -blindly onward, and at the same moment she felt something laid heavily -upon her shoulder--she tottered--her strength forsook her, and she fell -helplessly among the branching roots of the old trees. - -"My lady--oh, my lady--thank God, it's only the dog," cried Flora Guy, -clapping her hands in grateful ecstasies; and at the same time, Mary -felt a cold nose thrust under her neck and her chin and cheeks licked -by her old favourite, poor Rover. More dead than alive, she raised -herself again to her feet, and before her sat the great old dog, his -tail sweeping the rustling leaves in wide circles, and his -good-humoured tongue lolling from among his ivory fangs. With many a -frisk and bound the fine dog greeted his long-lost mistress, and seemed -resolved to make himself one of the party. - -"No, no, poor Rover," said Mary, hurriedly--"we have rambled our last -together--home, Rover, home." - -The old dog looked wonderingly in the face of his mistress. - -"Home, Rover--home," repeated she, and the noble dog did credit to his -good training by turning dejectedly, and proceeding at a slow, broken -trot homeward, after stopping, however, and peeping round his shoulder, -as though in the hope of some signal relentingly inviting his return. - -Thus relieved of their immediate fears, the two fugitives, weak, -exhausted, and breathless, reached the great gate, and found themselves -at length upon the high road. Here they ventured to check their speed, -and pursue their way at a pace which enabled them to recover breath and -strength, but still fearfully listening for any sound indicative of -pursuit. - -The moon was high in the heavens, but the dark, drifting scud was -sailing across her misty disc, and giving to her light the character of -ceaseless and ever varying uncertainty. The road on which they walked -was that which led to Dublin city, and from each side was embowered by -tall old trees, and rudely fenced by unequal grassy banks. They had -proceeded nearly half-a-mile without encountering any living being, -when they heard, suddenly, a little way before them, the sharp clang of -horses' hoofs upon the road, and shortly after, the moon shining forth -for a moment, revealed distinctly the forms of two horsemen approaching -at a slow trot. - -"As sure as light, my lady, it's they," said Flora Guy, "I know Sir -Henry's grey horse--don't stop, my lady--don't try to hide--just draw -the hood over your head, and walk on steady with me, and they'll never -mind us, but pass on." - -With a throbbing heart, Mary obeyed her companion, and they walked side -by side by the edge of the grassy bank and under the tall trees--the -distance between them and the two mounted figures momentarily -diminishing. - -"I say he's as lame as a hop-jack," cried the well-known voice of -Nicholas Blarden, as they approached--"hav'n't you an eye in your head, -you mouth, you--look there--another false step, by Jove." - -Just at this moment the girls, looking neither to the right nor left, -and almost sinking with fear, were passing them by. - -"Stop you, one of you, will you?" said Blarden, addressing them, and at -the same time reining in his horse. - -Flora Guy stopped, and making a slight curtsey, awaited his further -pleasure, while Mary Ashwoode, with faltering steps and almost dead -with terror, walked slowly on. - -"Have you light enough to see a stone in a horse's hoof, my dimber -hen?--have you, I say?" - -"Yes, sir," faltered the girl, with another curtsey, and not venturing -to raise her voice, for fear of detection. - -"Well, look into them all in turn, will you?" continued Blarden, "while -I walk the beast a bit. Do you see anything? is there a stone -there?--is there?" - -"No, sir," said she again, with a curtsey. - -"No, sir," echoed he--"but I say 'yes, sir,' and I'll take my oath of -it. D----n it, it can't be a strain. Get down, Ashwoode, I say, and -look to it yourself; these blasted women are fit for nothing but -darning old stockings--get down, I say, Ashwoode." - -Without awaiting for any more formal dismissal, Flora Guy walked -quickly on, and speedily overtook her companion, and side by side they -continued to go at the same moderate pace, until a sudden turn in the -road interposing trees and bushes between them and the two horsemen, -they renewed their flight at the swiftest pace which their exhausted -strength could sustain; and need had they to exert their utmost speed, -for greater dangers than they had yet escaped were still to follow. - -Meanwhile Nicholas Blarden and Sir Henry Ashwoode mended their pace, -and proceeded at a brisk trot toward the manor of Morley Court. Both -rode on more than commonly silent, and whenever Blarden spoke, it was -with something more than his usual savage moroseness. No doubt their -rapid approach to the scene where their hellish cruelty and oppression -were to be completed, did not serve either to exhilarate their spirits -or to soothe the asperities of Blarden's ruffian temper. Now and then, -indeed, he did indulge in a few flashes of savage exulting glee at his -anticipated triumph over the hereditary pride of Sir Henry, against -whom, with all a coward's rancour, he still cherished a "lodged hate," -and in mortifying and insulting whom his kestrel heart delighted and -rioted with joy. As they approached the ancient avenue, as if by mutual -consent, they both drew bridle and reduced their pace to a walk. - -"You shall be present and give her away--do you mind?" said Blarden, -abruptly breaking silence. - -"There's no need for that--surely there is none?" said Ashwoode. - -"Need or no need, it's my humour," replied Blarden. - -"I've suffered enough already in this matter," replied Sir Henry, -bitterly; "there's no use in heaping gratuitous annoyances and -degradation upon me." - -"Ho, ho, running rusty," exclaimed Blarden, with the harsh laugh of -coarse insult--"running rusty, eh? I thought you were broken in by this -time--paces learned and mouth made, eh?--take care, take care." - -"I say," repeated Ashwoode, impetuously, "you can have no object in -compelling my presence, except to torment me." - -"Well, suppose I allow that--what then, eh?--ho, ho!" retorted Blarden. - -Sir Henry did not reply, but a strange fancy crossed his mind. - -"I say," resumed Blarden, "I'll have no argument about it; I choose it, -and what I choose must be done--that's enough." - -The road was silent and deserted; no sound, save the ringing of their -own horses' hoofs upon the stones, disturbed the stillness of the air; -dark, ragged clouds obscured the waning moon, and the shadows were -deepened further by the stooping branches of the tall trees which -guarded the road on either side. Ashwoode's hand rested upon the pommel -of his holster pistol, and by his side moved the wretch whose cunning -and ferocity had dogged and destroyed him--with startling vividness the -suggestion came. His eyes rested upon the dusky form of his companion, -all calculations of consequences faded away from his remembrance, and -yielding to the dark, dreadful influence which was upon him, he -clutched the weapon with a deadly gripe. - -"What are you staring at me for?--am I a stone wall, eh?" exclaimed -Blarden, who instinctively perceived something odd in Ashwoode's air -and attitude, spite of the obscurity in which they rode. - -The spell was broken. Ashwoode felt as if awaking from a dream, and -looked fearfully round, almost expecting to behold the visible presence -of the principle of mischief by his side, so powerful and vivid had -been the satanic impulse of the moment before. - -They turned into the great avenue through which so lately the fugitives -had fearfully sped. - -"We're at home now," cried Blarden; "come, be brisk, will you?" And so -saying, he struck Ashwoode's horse a heavy blow with his whip. The -spirited animal reared and bolted, and finally started at a gallop down -the broad avenue towards the mansion, and at the same pace Nicholas -Blarden also thundered to the hall door. - - - - -CHAPTER LX. - -THE UNTREASURED CHAMBER. - - -Their obstreperous summons at the door was speedily answered, and the -two cavaliers stood in the hall. - -"Well, all's right, I suppose?" inquired Blarden, tossing his gloves -and hat upon the table. - -"Yes, sir," replied the servant, "all but the lady's maid; Mr. -Chancey's been calling for her these five minutes and more, and we -can't find her." - -"How's this--all the doors locked?" inquired Blarden vehemently. - -"Ay, sir, every one of them," replied the man. - -"Who has the keys?" asked Blarden. - -"Mr. Chancey, sir," replied the servant. - -"Did he allow them out of his keeping--did he?" urged Blarden. - -"No, sir--not a moment--for he was saying this very minute," answered -the domestic, "he had them in his pocket, and the key of Miss Mary's -room along with them; he took it from Flora Guy, the maid, scarce a -quarter of an hour ago." - -"Then all _is_ right," said Blarden, while the momentary blackness of -suspicion passed from his face, "the girl's in some hole or corner of -this lumbering old barrack, but here comes Chancey himself, what's all -the fuss about--who's in the upper room--the--the boudoir, eh?" he -continued, addressing the barrister, who was sneaking downstairs with a -candle in his hand, and looking unusually sallow. - -"The Reverend Ebenezer and one of the lads--they're sitting there," -answered Chancey, "but we can't find that little girl, Flora Guy, -anywhere." - -"Have you the keys?" asked Blarden. - -"Ay, dear me, to be sure I have, except the one that I gave to little -Bat there, to let you in this minute. I have the three other keys; dear -me--dear me--what could ail me?" And so saying, Chancey slapped the -skirt of his coat slightly so as to make them jingle in his pocket. - -"The windows are all fast and safe as the wall itself--screwed down," -observed Blarden, "let's see the keys--show them here." - -Chancey accordingly drew them from his pocket, and laid them on the -table. - -"There's the three of them," observed he, calmly. - -"Have you no more?" inquired Blarden, looking rather aghast. - -"No, indeed, the devil a one," replied Chancey, thrusting his arm to -the elbow in his coat pocket. - -"D--n me, but I think this is the key of the cellar," ejaculated -Blarden, in a tone which energized even the apathetic lawyer, "come -here, Ashwoode, what key's this?" - -"It _is_ the cellar key," said Ashwoode, in a faltering voice and -turning very pale. - -"Try your pockets for another, and find it, or ----." The aposiopesis -was alarming, and Blarden's direction was obeyed instantaneously. - -"I declare to God," said Chancey, much alarmed, "I have but the three, -and that in the door makes four." - -"You d----d oaf," said Blarden, between his set teeth, "if you have -botched this business, I'll let you know for what. Ashwoode, which of -the keys is missing?" - -After a moment's hesitation, Ashwoode led the way through the passage -which Mary and her companion had so lately traversed. - -"That's the door," said he, pointing to that through which the escape -had been effected. - -"And what's this?" cried Blarden, shouldering past Sir Henry, and -raising something from the ground, just by the door-post, "a -handkerchief, and marked, too--it's the young lady's own--give me the -key of the lady's chamber," continued he, in a low changed voice, which -had, in the ears of the barrister, something more unpleasant still than -his loudest and harshest tones--"give me the key, and follow me." - -He clutched it, and followed by the terror-stricken barrister, and by -Sir Henry Ashwoode, he retraced his steps, and scaled the stairs with -hurried and lengthy strides. Without stopping to glance at the form of -the still slumbering drunkard, or to question the servant who sat -opposite, on the chair recently occupied by Chancey, he strode directly -to the door of Mary Ashwoode's sleeping apartment, opened it, and stood -in an untenanted chamber. - -For a moment he paused, aghast and motionless; he ran to the bed--still -warm with the recent pressure of his intended victim--the room was, -indeed, deserted. He turned round, absolutely black and speechless with -rage. As he advanced, the wretched barrister--the tool of his worst -schemes--cowered back in terror. Without speaking one word, Blarden -clutched him by the throat, and hurled him with his whole power -backward. With tremendous force he descended with his head upon the bar -of the grate, and thence to the hearthstone; there, breathless, -powerless, and to all outward seeming a livid corpse, lay the devil's -cast-off servant, the red blood trickling fast from ears, nose, and -mouth. Not waiting to see whether Chancey was alive or dead, Mr. -Blarden seized the brandy flask and dashed it in the face of the stupid -drunkard--who, disturbed by the fearful hubbub, was just beginning to -open his eyes--and leaving that reverend personage drenched in blood -and brandy, to take care of his boon companion as best he might, -Blarden strode down the stairs, followed by Ashwoode and the servants. - -"Get horses--horses all," shouted he, "to the stables--by Jove, it was -they we met on the road--the two girls--quick to the stables--whoever -catches them shall have his hat full of crowns." - -Led by Blarden, they all hurried to the stables, where they found the -horses unsaddled. - -"On with the saddles--for your life be quick," cried Blarden, "four -horses--fresh ones." - -While uttering his furious mandates, with many a blasphemous -imprecation, he aided the preparations himself, and with hands that -trembled with eagerness and rage, he drew the girths, and buckled the -bridles, and in almost less than a minute, the four horses were led out -upon the broken pavement of the stable-yard. - -"Mind, boys," cried Blarden, "they are two mad-women--escaped -mad-women--ride for your lives. Ashwoode, do you take the right, and -I'll take the left when we come on the road--do you follow me, -Tony--and Dick, do you go with Sir Henry--and, now, devil take the -hindmost." With these words he plunged the spurs into his horse's -flanks, and with the speed of a thunder blast, they all rode -helter-skelter, in pursuit of their human prey. - - - - -CHAPTER LXI. - -THE CART AND THE STRAW. - - -While this was passing, the two girls continued their flight toward -Dublin city. They had not long passed Ashwoode and Nicholas Blarden, -when Mary's strength entirely failed, and she was forced first to -moderate her pace to a walk, and finally to stop altogether and seat -herself upon the bank which sloped abruptly down to the road. - -"Flora," said she, faintly, "I am quite exhausted--my strength is -entirely gone; I must perforce rest myself and take breath here for a -few minutes, and then, with God's help, I shall again have power to -proceed." - -"Do so, my lady," said Flora, taking her stand beside her mistress, -"and I'll watch and listen here by you. Hish! don't I hear the sound of -a car on the road before us?" - -So, indeed, it seemed, and at no great distance too. The road, however, -just where they had placed themselves, made a sweep which concealed the -vehicle, whatever it might be, effectually from their sight. The girl -clambered to the top of the bank, and thence commanding a view of that -part of the highway which beneath was hidden from sight, she beheld, -two or three hundred yards in advance of them, a horse and cart, the -driver of which was seated upon the shaft, slowly wending along in the -direction of the city. - -"My lady," said she, descending from her post of observation, "if you -have strength to run on for only a few perches more of the road, we'll -be up with a car, and get a lift into town without any more trouble; -try it, my lady." - -Accordingly they again set forth, and after a few minutes' further -exertion, they came up with the vehicle and accosted the driver, a -countryman, with a short pipe in his mouth, who, with folded arms, sat -listlessly upon the shaft. - -"Honest man, God bless you, and give us a bit of a lift," said Flora -Guy; "we've come a long way and very fast, and we are fairly tired to -death." - -The countryman drew the halter which he held, and uttering an -unspellable sound, addressed to his horse, succeeded in bringing him -and the vehicle to a standstill. - -"Never say it twiste," said he; "get up, and welcome. Wait a bit, till -I give the straw a turn for yees; not for it; step on the wheel; don't -be in dread, he won't move." - -So saying, he assisted Mary Ashwoode into the rude vehicle, and not -without wondering curiosity, for the hand which she extended to him was -white and slender, and glittered in the moonlight with jewelled rings. -Flora Guy followed; but before the cart was again in motion, they -distinctly heard the far-off clatter of galloping hoofs upon the road. -Their fears too truly accounted for these sounds. - -"Merciful God! we are pursued," said Mary Ashwoode; and then turning to -the driver, she continued, with an agony of imploring terror--"as you -look for pity at the dreadful hour when all shall need it, do not -betray us. If it be as I suspect, we are pursued--pursued with an -evil--a dreadful purpose. I had rather die a thousand deaths than fall -into the hands of those who are approaching." - -"Never fear," interrupted the man; "lie down flat both of you in the -cart and I'll hide you--never fear." - -They obeyed his directions, and he spread over their prostrate bodies a -covering of straw; not quite so thick, however, as their fears would -have desired; and thus screened, they awaited the approach of those -whom they rightly conjectured to be in hot pursuit of them. The man -resumed his seat upon the shaft, and once more the cart was in motion. - -Meanwhile, the sharp and rapid clang of the hoofs approached, and -before the horsemen had reached them, the voice of Nicholas Blarden was -shouting-- - -"Holloa--holloa, honest fellow--saw you two young women on the road?" - -There was scarcely time allowed for an answer, when the thundering -clang of the iron hoofs resounded beside the conveyance in which the -fugitives were lying, and the horsemen both, with a sudden and violent -exertion, brought their beasts to a halt, and so abruptly, that -although thrown back upon their haunches, the horses slid on for -several yards upon the hard road, by the mere impetus of their former -speed, knocking showers of fire flakes from the stones. - -"I say," repeated Blarden, "did two girls pass you on the road--did you -see them?" - -"Divil a sign of a girl I see," replied the man, carelessly; and to -their infinite relief, the two fugitives heard their pursuer, with a -muttered curse, plunge forward upon his way. This relief, however, was -but momentary, for checking his horse again, Blarden returned. - -"I say, my good chap, I passed you before to-night, not ten minutes -since, on my way out of town, not half-a-mile from this spot--the girls -were running this way, and if they're between this and the gate--they -must have passed you." - -"Devil a girl I seen this---- Oh, begorra! you're right, sure enough," -said the driver, "what the devil was I thinkin' about--two girls--one -of them tall and slim, with rings on her fingers--and the other a -short, active bit of a colleen?" - -"Ay--ay--ay," cried Blarden. - -"Sure enough they did overtake me," said the man, "shortly after I -passed two gentlemen--I suppose you are one of them--and the little one -axed me the direction of Harold's-cross--and when I showed it to them, -bedad they both made no more bones about it, but across the ditch with -them, an' away over the fields--they're half-way there by this time--it -was jist down there by the broken bridge--they were quare-looking -girls." - -"It would be d----d odd if they were not--they're both mad," replied -Blarden; "thank you for your hint." - -And so saying, as he turned his horse's head in the direction -indicated, he chucked a crown piece into the cart. As the conveyance -proceeded, they heard the driver soliloquizing with evident -satisfaction-- - -"Bedad, they'll have a plisint serenade through the fields, the two of -them," observed he, standing upon the shafts, and watching the progress -of the two horsemen--"there they go, begorra--over the ditch with them. -Oh, by the hokey, the sarvint boy's down--the heart's blood iv a -toss--an' oh, bloody wars! see the skelp iv the whip the big chap gives -him--there they go again down the slope--now for it--over the gripe -with them--well done, bedad, and into the green lane--devil take the -bushes, I can't see another sight iv them. Young women," he continued, -again assuming his sitting position, and replacing his pipe in the -corner of his mouth--"all's safe now--they're clean out of sight--you -may get up, miss." - -Accordingly, Mary Ashwoode and Flora Guy raised themselves. - -"Here," said the latter, extending her hand toward the driver, "here's -the silver he threw to you." - -"I wisht I could airn as much every day as aisily," said the man, -securing his prize; "that chap has raal villiany in his face; he looks -so like ould Nick, I'm half afeard to take his money; the crass of -Christ about us, I never seen such a face." - -"You're an honest boy at any rate," said Flora Guy, "you brought us -safe through the danger." - -"An' why wouldn't I--what else 'id I do?" rejoined the countryman; "it -wasn't for to sell you I was goin'." - -"You have earned my gratitude for ever," said Mary Ashwoode; "my -thanks, my prayers; you have saved me; your generosity, and humanity, -and pity, have delivered me from the deadliest peril that ever yet -overtook living creature. God bless you for it." - -She removed a ring from her finger, and added--"Take this; nay, do not -refuse so poor an acknowledgment for services inestimable." - -"No, miss, no," rejoined the countryman, warmly, "I'll not take it; -I'll not have it; do you think I could do anything else but what I did, -and you putting yourself into my hands the way you did, and trusting to -me, and laving yourselves in my power intirely? I'm not a Turk, nor an -unnatural Jew; may the devil have me, body and soul, the hour I take -money, or money's worth, for doin' the like." - -Seeing the man thus resolved, she forbore to irritate him by further -pressing the jewel on his acceptance, and he, probably to put an end to -the controversy, began to shake and chuck the rope halter with -extraordinary vehemence, and at the same time with the heel of his -brogue, to stimulate the lagging jade, accompanying the application -with a sustained hissing; the combined effect of all which was to cause -the animal to break into a kind of hobbling canter; and so they rumbled -and clattered over the stony road, until at length their charioteer -checked the progress of his vehicle before the hospitable door-way of -"The Bleeding Horse"--the little inn to which, in the commencement of -these records, we have already introduced the reader. - -"Hould that, if you plase," said he, placing the end of the halter in -Flora Guy's hand, "an' don't let him loose, or he'll be makin' for the -grass and have you upset in the ditch. I'll not be a minute in here; -and maybe the young lady and yourself 'id take a drop of something; the -evenin's mighty chill entirely." - -They both, of course, declined the hospitable proposal, and their -conductor, leaving them on the cart, entered the little hostelry; -outside the door were two or three cars and horses, whose owners were -boozing within; and feeling some return of confidence in the -consciousness that they were in the neighbourhood of persons who could, -and probably would, protect them, should occasion arise, Mary Ashwoode, -with her light mantle drawn around her, and the hood over her head, sat -along with her faithful companion, awaiting his return, under the -embowering shadow of the old trees. - -"Flora, I am sorely perplexed; I know not whither to go when we have -reached the city," said Mary, addressing her companion in a low tone. -"I have but one female relative residing in Dublin, and she would -believe, and think, and do, just as my brother might wish to make her. -Oh, woeful hour! that it should ever come to this--that I should fear -to trust another because she is my own brother's friend." - -She had hardly ceased to speak when a small man, with his cocked hat -set somewhat rakishly on one side, stepped forth from the little inn -door; he had just lighted his pipe, and was inhaling its smoke with -anxious attention lest the spark which he cherished should expire -before the ignition of the weed became sufficiently general; his walk -was therefore slow and interrupted; the top of his finger tenderly -moved the kindling tobacco, and his two eyes squinted with intense -absorption at the bowl of the pipe; by the time he had reached the back -of the cart in which Mary Ashwoode and her attendant were seated, his -labours were crowned by complete success, as was attested by the dense -volumes of smoke which at regular intervals he puffed forth. He carried -a cutting-whip under his arm, and was directing his steps toward a -horse which, with its bridle thrown over a gate-post, was patiently -awaiting his return. As he passed the rude vehicle in which the two -fugitives were couched, he happened to pause for a moment, and Mary -thought she recognized the figure before her as that of an old -acquaintance. - -"Is that Larry--Larry Toole?" inquired she. - -"It's myself, sure enough," rejoined that identical personage; "an' who -are you--a woman, to be sure, who else 'id be axin' for me?" - -"Larry, don't you know me?" said she. - -"Divil a taste," replied he. "I only see you're a female av coorse, why -wouldn't you, for, by the piper that played before Moses, I'm never out -of one romance till I'm into another." - -"Larry," said she, lowering her voice, "it is Miss Ashwoode who speaks -to you." - -"Don't be funnin' me, can't you?" rejoined Larry, rather pettishly. -"I've got enough iv the thricks iv women latterly; an' too much. I'm a -raal marthyr to famale mineuvers; there's a bump on my head as big as a -goose's egg, glory be to God! an' my bones is fairly aching with what -I've gone through by raison iv confidin' myself to the mercy of women. -Oh thunder----" - -"I tell you, Larry," repeated Mary, "I am, indeed, Miss Ashwoode." - -"No, but who are you, in earnest?" urged Larry Toole; "can't you put me -out iv pain at wonst; upon my sowl I don't know you from Moses this -blessed minute." - -"Well, Larry, although you cannot recognize my voice," said she, -turning back her hood so as to reveal her pale features in the -moonlight, "you have not forgotten my face." - -"Oh, blessed hour! Miss Mary," exclaimed Larry, in unfeigned amazement, -while he hurriedly thrust his pipe into his pocket, and respectfully -doffed his hat. - -"Hush, hush," said Mary, with a gesture of caution. "Put on your hat, -too; I wish to escape observation; put it on, Larry; it is my wish." - -Larry reluctantly complied. - -"Can you tell me where in town my uncle O'Leary is to be found?" -inquired she, eagerly. - -"Bedad, Miss Mary, he isn't in town at all," replied the man; "they say -he married a widdy lady about ten days ago; at any rate he's gone out -of town more than a week; I didn't hear where." - -"I know not whither to turn for help or counsel, Flora," said she, -despairingly, "my best friend is gone." - -"Well," said Larry--who, though entirely ignorant of the exact nature -of the young lady's fears, had yet quite sufficient shrewdness to -perceive that she was, indeed, involved in some emergency of -extraordinary difficulty and peril--"well, miss, maybe if you'd take a -fool's advice for once, it might turn out best," said Larry. "There's -an ould gentleman that knows all about your family; he was out at the -manor, and had a long discourse, himself and Sir Richard--God rest -him--a short time before the ould masther died; the gentleman's name is -Audley; and, though he never seen you but once, he wishes you well, and -'id go a long way to sarve you; an' above all, he's a raal rock iv -sinse. I'm not bad myself, but, begorra, I'm nothin' but a fool beside -him; now do you, Miss Mary, and the young girl that's along with you, -jist come in here; you can have a snug little room to yourselves, and -I'll go into town and have the ould gentleman out with you before you -know what you're about, or where you are; he'll ax no more than the -wind iv the word to bring him here in a brace iv shakes; and my name's -not Larry if he don't give you suparior advice." - -A slight thing determines a mind perplexed and desponding; and Mary -Ashwoode, feeling that whatever objection might well be started against -the plan proposed by Larry Toole, yet felt that, were it rejected, she -had none better to follow in its stead; anything rather than run the -risk of being placed again in her brother's keeping; there was no time -for deliberation, and therefore she at once adopted the suggestion. -Larry, accordingly, conducted them into the little inn, and consigned -them to the care of a haggard, slovenly girl, who, upon a hint from -that gentleman, conducted them to a little chamber, up a flight of -stairs, looking out upon the back yard, where, with a candle and a -scanty fire, she left the two anxious fugitives; and, as she descended, -they heard the clank of the iron shoes, as Larry spurred his horse into -a hard gallop, speeding like the wind upon his mission. - -The receding sounds of his rapid progress had, however, hardly ceased -to be heard, when the fears and anxieties which had been for a moment -forgotten, returned with heavier pressure upon the poor girl's heart, -and she every moment expected to hear the dreaded voices of her -pursuers in the passage beneath, or to see their faces entering at the -door. Thus restlessly and fearfully she awaited the return of her -courier. - - - - -CHAPTER LXII. - -THE COUNCIL--SHOWING WHAT ADVICE MR. AUDLEY GAVE, AND HOW IT WAS TAKEN. - - -Larry Toole was true to his word. Without turning from the direct -course, or pausing on his way for one moment, he accomplished the -service which he had volunteered, and in an incredibly short time -returned to the little inn, bringing Mr. Audley with him in a coach. - -With an air of importance and mystery, suitable to the occasion, the -little gentleman, followed by his attendant, proceeded to the chamber -where Miss Ashwoode and her maid were awaiting his arrival. Mary arose -as he entered the room, and Larry, from behind, ejaculated, in a tone -of pompous exultation, "Here he is, Miss Mary--Mr. Audley himself, an' -no mistake." - -"Tut, tut, Larry," exclaimed the little gentleman, turning impatiently -toward that personage, whose obstreperous announcement had disarranged -his plans of approach; "hold your tongue, Larry, I say--ahem!" - -"Mr. Audley," said Mary, "I hope you will pardon----" - -"Not one word of the kind--excuse the interruption--not a word," -exclaimed the little gentleman, gallantly waving his hand--"only too -much honour--too proud, Miss Ashwoode, I have long known something of -your family, and, strange as it may appear, have felt a peculiar -interest in you--although I had not the honour of your acquaintance--for -the sake of--of other parties. I have ever entertained a warm regard -for your welfare, and although circumstances are much, very much -changed, I cannot forget relations that once subsisted--ahem!" This was -said diplomatically, and he blew his nose with a short decisive twang. -"I understand, my poor young lady," he continued, relapsing into the -cordial manner that was natural to him, "that you are at this moment in -circumstances of difficulty, perhaps of danger, and that you have been -disappointed in this emergency by the absence of your relative, Major -O'Leary, with whose acquaintance, by-the-bye, I am honoured, and a more -worthy, warm-hearted--but no matter--in his absence, then, I venture to -tender my poor services--pray, if it be not too bold a request, tell me -fully and fairly, the nature of your embarrassment; and if zeal, -activity, and the friendliest dispositions can avail to extricate you, -you may command them all--pray, then, let me know what I _can_ do to -serve you." So saying, the old gentleman took the pale and lovely -lady's hand, with a mixture of tenderness and respect which encouraged -and assured her. - -Larry having withdrawn, she told the little gentleman all that she -could communicate, without disclosing her brother's implication in the -conspiracy. Even this reserve, the old gentleman's warm and kindly -manner, and the good-natured simplicity, apparent in all he said and -did, effectually removed, and the whole case, in all its bearings, and -with all its circumstances, was plainly put before him. During the -narrative, the little gentleman was repeatedly so transported with ire -as to slap his thigh, sniff violently, and mutter incoherent -ejaculations between his teeth; and when it was ended, was so far -overcome by his feelings, that he did not trust himself to address the -young lady, until he had a little vented his indignation by marching -and countermarching, at quick time, up and down the room, blowing his -nose with desperate abandonment, and muttering sundry startling -interjections. At length he grew composed, and addressing Mary -Ashwoode, observed,-- - -"You are quite right, my dear young lady--quite right, indeed, in -resolving against putting yourself into the hands of anybody under Sir -Henry's influence--perfectly right and wise. Have you _no_ relatives in -this country, none capable of protecting you, and willing to do so?" - -"I have, indeed, one relative," rejoined she, but----" - -"Who is it?" interrupted Audley. - -"An uncle," replied Mary. - -"His name, my dear--his name?" inquired the old gentleman, impatiently. - -"His name is French--Oliver French," replied she, "but----" - -"Never mind," interrupted Audley again, "where does he live?" - -"He lives in an old place called Ardgillagh," rejoined she, "on the -borders of the county of Limerick." - -"Is it easily found out?--near the high road from Dublin?--near any -town?--easily got at?" inquired he, with extra-ordinary volubility. - -"I've heard my brother say," rejoined she, "that it is not far from the -high road from Dublin; he was there himself. I believe the place is -well known by the peasantry for many miles round; but----" - -"Very good, very good, my dear," interposed Mr. Audley again. "Has he a -family--a wife?" - -"No," rejoined Mary; "he is unmarried, and an old man." - -"Pooh, pooh! why the devil hasn't he a wife? but no matter, you'll be -all the welcomer. That's our ground--all the safer that it's a little -out of the way," exclaimed the old man. "We'll steal a march--they'll -never suspect us; we'll start at once." - -"But I fear," said Mary, dejectedly, "that he will not receive me. -There has long been an estrangement between our family and him; with my -father he had a deadly quarrel while I was yet an infant. He vowed that -neither my father nor any child of his should ever cross his threshold. -I've been told he bitterly resented what he believed to have been my -father's harsh treatment of my mother. I was too young, however, to -know on which side the right of the quarrel was; but I fear there is -little hope of his doing as you expect, for some six or seven years -since my brother was sent down, in the hope of a reconciliation, and in -vain. He returned, reporting that my uncle Oliver had met all his -advances with scorn. No, no, I fear--I greatly fear he will not receive -me." - -"Never believe it--never think so," rejoined old Audley, warmly; "if he -were man enough to resent your mother's wrongs, think you his heart -will have no room for yours? Think you his nature's changed, that he -cannot pity the distressed, and hate tyranny any longer? Never believe -me, if he won't hug you to his heart the minute he sees you. I like the -old chap; he was right to be angry--it was his duty to be in a -confounded passion; he ought to have been kicked if he hadn't done just -as he did--I'd swear he was right. Never trust me, if he'll not take -your part with his whole heart, and make you his pet for as long as you -please to stay with him. Deuce take him, I like the old fellow." - -"You would advise me, then, to apply to him for protection?" asked Mary -Ashwoode, "and I suppose to go down there immediately." - -"Most unquestionably so," replied Mr. Audley, with a short nod of -decision--"most unquestionably--start to-night; we shall go as far as -the town of Naas; I will accompany you. I consider you my ward until -your natural protectors take you under their affectionate charge, and -guard you from grief and danger as they ought. My good girl," he -continued, addressing Flora Guy, "you must come along with your -mistress; I've a coach at the door. We shall go directly into town, and -my landlady shall take you both under her care until I have procured -two chaises, the one for myself, and the other for your mistress and -you. You will find Mrs. Pickley, my landlady, a very kind, excellent -person, and ready to assist you in making your preparations for the -journey." - -The old gentleman then led his young and beautiful charge, with a -mixture of gallantry and pity, by the hand down the little inn stairs, -and in a very brief time Mary Ashwoode and her faithful attendant found -themselves under the hospitable protection of Mrs. Pickley's roof-tree. - - - - -CHAPTER LXIII. - -PARTING--THE SHELTERED VILLAGE, AND THE JOURNEY'S END. - - -Never was little gentleman in such a fuss as Mr. Audley--never were so -many orders issued and countermanded and given again--never were Larry -Toole's energies so severely tried and his intellects so -distracted--impossible tasks and contradictory orders so "huddled on -his back," that he well nigh went mad under the burthen; at length, -however, matters were arranged, two coaches with post-horses were -brought to the door, Mary Ashwoode and her attendant were deposited in -one, along with such extempore appliances for wardrobe and toilet as -Mrs. Pickley, in a hurried excursion, was enabled to collect from the -neighbouring shops and pack up for the journey, and Mr. Audley stood -ready to take his place in the other. - -"Larry," said he, before ascending, "here are ten guineas, which will -keep you in bread and cheese until you hear from me again; don't on any -account leave the 'Cock and Anchor,' your master's horse and luggage -are there, and, no doubt, whenever he returns to Dublin, which I am -very certain must soon occur, he will go directly thither; so be you -sure to meet him there, should he happen during my absence to arrive; -and mark me, be very careful of this letter, give it him the moment you -see him, which, please God, will be very soon indeed; keep it in some -safe place--don't carry it in your breeches pocket, you blockhead, -you'll grind it to powder, booby! indeed, now that I think on't, you -had better give it at once in charge to the innkeeper of the 'Cock and -Anchor;' don't forget, on your life I charge you, and now good-night." - -"Good-night, and good luck, your honour, and may God speed you!" -ejaculated Larry, as the vehicles rumbled away. The charioteers had -received their directions, and Mary Ashwoode and her trusty companion, -confused and bewildered by the rapidity with which events had succeeded -one another during the day, and stunned by the magnitude of the dangers -which they had so narrowly escaped, found themselves, scarcely -crediting the evidence of their senses, rapidly traversing the interval -which separated Dublin city from the little town of Naas. - -It is not our intention to weary our readers with a detailed account of -the occurrences of the journey, nor to present them with a catalogue of -all the mishaps and delays to which Irish posting in those days, and -indeed much later, was liable; it is enough to state that upon the -evening of the fourth day the two carriages clattered into the wretched -little village which occupied the road on which opened the avenue -leading up to the great house of Ardgillagh. The village, though -obviously the abode of little comfort or cheerfulness, was not on that -account the less picturesque; the road wound irregularly where it -stood, and was carried by an old narrow bridge across a wayward -mountain stream which wheeled and foamed in many a sportive eddy within -its devious banks. Close by, the little mill was couched among the -sheltering trees, which, extending in irregular and scattered groups -through the village, and mingling with the stunted bushes and briars of -the hedges, were nearly met from the other side of the narrow street by -the broad branching limbs of the giant trees which skirted the wild -wooded domain of Ardgillagh. Thus occupying a sweeping curve of the -road, and embowered among the shadowy arches of the noble timber, the -little village had at first sight an air of tranquillity, seclusion, -and comfort, which made the traveller pause to contemplate its simple -attractions and to admire how it could be that a few wretched hovels -with crazy walls and thatch overgrown with weeds, thus irregularly -huddled together beneath the rude shelter of the wood, could make a -picture so pleasing to the eye and so soothing to the heart. The -vehicles were drawn up by their drivers before the door of a small -thatched building which, however, stood a whole head and shoulders -higher than the surrounding hovels, exhibiting a second storey with -three narrow windows in front, and over its doorway, from which a large -pig, under the stimulus of a broomstick, was majestically issuing, a -sign-board, the admiration of connoisseurs for miles round, presenting -a half-length portrait of the illustrious Brian Borhome, and admitted -to be a startling likeness. Before this mansion--the only one in the -place which pretended to the character of a house of public -entertainment--the post-boys drew bridle, and brought the vehicles to a -halt. Mr. Audley was upon the road in an instant, and with fussy -gallantry assisting Mary Ashwoode to descend. Their sudden arrival had -astounded the whole household--consternation and curiosity filled the -little establishment. The proprietor, who sat beneath the capacious -chimney, started to his feet, swallowing, in his surprise, a whole -potato, which he was just deliberately commencing, and by a miracle -escaped choking. The landlady dropped a pot, which she was scrubbing, -upon the back of a venerable personage who was in a stooping posture, -lighting his pipe, and inadvertently wiped her face in the pot clout; -everybody did something wrong, and nobody anything right; the dog was -kicked and the cat scalded, and in short, never was known in the little -village of Ardgillagh, within the memory of man, except when Ginckle -marched his troops through the town, such a universal hubbub as that -which welcomed the two chaises and their contents to the door of Pat -Moroney's hospitable mansion. - -Mrs. Moroney, with more lampblack upon her comely features than she was -at that moment precisely aware of, hastened to the door, which she -occupied as completely and exclusively as the corpulent specimen of -Irish royalty over her head did his proper sign-board; all the time -gazing with an admiring grin upon Mr. Audley and the lady whom he -assisted to descend; and at exceedingly short and irregular intervals, -executing sundry slight ducks, intended to testify her exuberant -satisfaction and respect, while all around and about her were thrust -the wondering visages of the less important inmates of the -establishment; many were the murmured criticisms, and many the -ejaculations of admiration and surprise, which accompanied every -movement of the party under observation. - -"Oh! but she's a fine young lady, God bless her!" said one. - -"But isn't she mighty pale, though, entirely?" observed another. - -"That's her father--the little stout gentleman; see how he houlds her -hand for fear she'd thrip comin' out. Oh! but he's a nate man!" -remarked a third. - -"An' her hand as white as milk; an' look at her fine rings," said a -fourth. - -"She's a rale lady; see the grand look of her, and the stately step, -God bless her!" said a fifth. - -"See, see; here's another comin' out; that's her sisther," remarked -another. - -"Hould your tongues, will yees?" ejaculated the landlady, jogging her -elbow at random into somebody's mouth. - -"An' see the little one taking the box in her hand," observed one. - -"Look at the tall lady, how she smiles at her, God bless her! she's a -rale good lady," remarked another. - -"An' now she's linkin' with him, and here they come, by gorra," -exclaimed a third. - -"Back with yees, an' lave the way," exclaimed Mrs. Moroney; "don't you -see the quality comin'?" - -Accordingly, with a palpitating heart, the worthy mistress of King -Brian Borhome prepared to receive her aristocratic guests. With due -state and ceremony she conducted them into the narrow chamber which, -except the kitchen, was the only public apartment in the establishment. -After due attention to his fair charge, Mr. Audley inquired of the -hostess,-- - -"Pray, my good worthy woman, are we not now within a mile or less of -the entrance into the domain of Ardgillagh?" - -"The gate's not two perches down the road, your honour," replied she; -"is it to the great house you want to go, sir?" - -"Yes, my good woman; certainly," replied he. - -"Come here, Shawneen, come, asthore!" cried she, through the half-open -door. "I'll send the little gossoon with you, your honour; he'll show -you the way, and keep the dogs off, for they all knows him up at the -great house. Here, Shawneen; this gintleman wants to be showed the way -up to the great house; and don't let the dogs near him; do you mind? He -hasn't much English," said she, turning to her guest, by way of -apology, and then conveying her directions anew in the mother tongue. - -Under the guidance of this ragged little urchin, Mr. Audley accordingly -set forth upon his adventurous excursion. - -Mrs. Moroney brought in bread, milk, eggs, and in short, the best cheer -which her limited resources could supply; and, although Mary Ashwoode -was far too anxious about the result of Mr. Audley's visit to do more -than taste the tempting bowl of new milk which was courteously placed -before her, Flora Guy, with right good will and hearty appetite, did -ample justice to the viands which the hostess provided. - -After some idle talk between herself and Flora Guy, Mrs. Moroney -observed in reply to an interrogatory from the girl,-- - -"Twenty or thirty years ago there wasn't such a fox-hunter in the -country as Mr. French; but he's this many a year ailing, and winter -after winter, it's worse and worse always he's getting, until at last -he never stirs out at all; and for the most part he keeps his bed." - -"Is anyone living with him?" inquired Flora. - -"No, none of his family," answered she; "no one at all, you may say; -there's no one does anything in his place, an' very seldom anyone sees -him except Mistress Martha and Black M'Guinness; them two has him all -to themselves; and, indeed, there's quare stories goin' about them." - - - - -CHAPTER LXIV. - -MISTRESS MARTHA AND BLACK M'GUINNESS. - - -Mr. Audley, preceded by his little ragged guide, walked thoughtfully on -his way to visit the old gentleman, of whose oddities and strange and -wayward temper the keeper of the place where they had last obtained a -relay of horses had given a marvellous and perhaps somewhat exaggerated -account. Now that he had reached the spot, and that the moment -approached which was to be the crisis of the adventure, he began to -feel far less confident of success than he had been while the issue of -his project was comparatively remote. - -They passed down the irregular street of the village, and beneath the -trees which arched overhead like the vast and airy aisles of some huge -Gothic pile, and after a short walk of some two or three hundred yards, -during which they furnished matter of interesting speculation to half -the village idlers, they reached a rude gate of great dimensions, but -which had obviously seen better days. There was no lodge or gate-house, -and Mr. Audley followed the little conductor over a stile, which -occupied the side of one of the great ivy-mantled stone piers; crossing -this, he found himself in the demesne. A broken and irregular avenue or -bridle track--for in most places it was little more--led onward over -hill and through hollow, along the undulations of the soft green sward, -and under the fantastic boughs of gnarled thorns and oaks and sylvan -birches, which in thick groups, wild and graceful as nature had placed -them, clothed the varied slopes. The rude approach which they followed -led them a wayward course over every variety of ground--now flat and -boggy, again up hill, and over the grey surface of lichen-covered -rocks--again down into deep fern-clothed hollows, and then across the -shallow, brawling stream, without bridge or appliance of any kind, but -simply through its waters, forced, as best they might, to pick their -steps upon the moss-grown stones that peeped above the clear devious -current. Thus they passed along through this wild and extensive -demesne, varied by a thousand inequalities of ground and by the -irregular grouping of the woods, which owed their picturesque -arrangement to the untutored fancies of nature herself, whose dominion -had there never known the intrusions of the axe, or the spade, or the -pruning-hook, but exulted in the unshackled indulgence of all her -wildest revelry. After a walk of more than half-an-hour's duration, -through a long vista among the trees, the grey gable of the old mansion -of Ardgillagh, with its small windows and high and massive chimney -stacks, presented itself. - -There was a depressing air of neglect and desertion about the old -place, which even the unimaginative temperament of Mr. Audley was -obliged to acknowledge. Rank weeds and grass had forced their way -through the pavement of the courtyard, and crowded in patches of -vegetation even to the very door of the house. The same was observable, -in no less a degree, in the great stable-yard, the gate of which, -unhinged, lay wide open, exhibiting a range of out-houses and stables, -which would have afforded lodging for horse and man to a whole regiment -of dragoons. Two men, one of them in livery, were loitering through the -courtyard, apparently not very well knowing what to do with themselves; -and as the visitors approached, a whole squadron of dogs, the little -ones bouncing in front with shrill alarm, and the more formidable, at a -majestic canter and with deep-mouthed note of menace, bringing up the -rear, came snarling, barking, and growling, towards the intruders at -startling speed. - -"Piper, Piper, Toby, Fan, Motheradauna, Boxer, Boxer, Toby!" screamed -the little guide, advancing a few yards before Mr. Audley, who, in -considerable uneasiness, grasped his walking cane with no small energy. -The interposition of the urchin was successful, the dogs recognized -their young friend, the angry clangour was hushed and their pace -abated, and when they reached Mr. Audley and his guide, in compliment -to the latter they suffered the little gentleman to pass on, with no -further question than a few suspicious sniffs, as they applied their -noses to the calves of that gentleman's legs. As they continued to -approach, the men in the court, now alarmed by the vociferous challenge -of the dogs, eyed the little gentleman inquisitively, for a visitor at -Ardgillagh was a thing that had not been heard of for years. As Mr. -Audley's intention became more determinate, and his design appeared -more unequivocally to apply for admission, the servant, who watched his -progress, ran by some hidden passage in the stable-yard into the -mansion and was ready to gratify his curiosity legitimately, by taking -his post in the hall in readiness to answer Mr. Audley's summons, and -to hold parley with him at the door. - -"Is Mr. French at home?" inquired Mr. Audley. - -"Ay, sir, he is at home," rejoined the man, deliberately, to allow -himself time fully to scrutinize the visitor's outward man. - -"Can I see him, pray?" asked the little gentleman. - -"Why, raly, sir, I can't exactly say," observed the man, scratching his -head. "He's upstairs in his own chamber--indeed, for that matter, he's -seldom out of it. If you'll walk into the room there, sir, I'll -inquire." - -Accordingly, Mr. Audley entered the apartment indicated and sat himself -down in the deep recess of the window to take breath. He well knew the -kind of person with whom he had to deal, previously to encountering -Oliver French in person. He had heard quite enough of Mistress Martha -and of Black M'Guinness already, to put him upon his guard, and fill -him with just suspicions as to their character and designs; he -therefore availed himself of the little interval to arrange his plans -of operation in his own mind. He had not waited long, when the door -opened, and a tall, elderly woman, with a bunch of keys at her side, -and arrayed in a rich satin dress, walked demurely into the room. There -was something unpleasant and deceitful in the expression of the -half-closed eyes and thin lips of this lady which inspired Mr. Audley -with instinctive dislike of her--an impression which was rather -heightened than otherwise by the obvious profusion with which her -sunken and sallow cheeks were tinged with rouge. This demure and -painted lady made a courtesy on seeing Mr. Audley, and in a low and -subdued tone which well accorded with her meek exterior, inquired,-- - -"You were asking for Mr. Oliver French, sir?" - -"Yes, madam," replied Mr. Audley, returning the salute with a bow as -formal; "I wish much to see him, if he could afford me half an hour's -chat." - -"Mr. French is very ill--very--very poorly, indeed," said Mistress -Martha, closing her eyes, and shaking her head. "He dislikes talking to -strangers. Are you a relative, pray, sir?" - -"Not I, madam--not at all, madam," rejoined Mr. Audley. - -A silence ensued, during which he looked out for a minute at the view -commanded by the window; and as he did so, he observed with the corner -of his eyes that the lady was studying him with a severe and searching -scrutiny. She was the first to break the silence. - -"I suppose it's about business you want to see him?" inquired she, -still looking at him with the same sharp glance. - -"Just so," rejoined Mr. Audley; "it is indeed upon business." - -"He dislikes transacting business or speaking of it himself," said she. -"He always employs his own man, Mr. M'Guinness. I'll call Mr. -M'Guinness, that you may communicate the matter to him." - -"You must excuse me," said Mr. Audley. "My instructions are to give my -message to Mr. Oliver French in person--though indeed there's no secret -in the matter. The fact is, Madam, my mission is of a kind which ought -to make me welcome. You understand me? I come here to announce a--a--an -acquisition, in short a sudden and, I believe, a most unexpected -acquisition. But perhaps I've said too much; the facts are for his own -ear solely. Such are my instructions; and you know I have no choice. -I've posted all the way from Dublin to execute the message; and between -ourselves, should he suffer this occasion to escape him, he may never -again have an opportunity of making such an addition to--but I must -hold my tongue--I'm prating against orders. In a word, madam, I'm -greatly mistaken, or it will prove the best news that has been told in -this house since its master was christened." - -He accompanied his announcement with a prodigious number of nods and -winks of huge significance, and all designed to beget the belief that -he carried in his pocket the copy of a will, or other instrument, -conveying to the said Oliver French of Ardgillagh the gold mines of -Peru, or some such trifle. - -Mistress Martha paused, looked hard at him, then reflected again. At -length she said, with the air of a woman who has made up her mind,-- - -"I dare to say, sir, it _is_ possible for you to see Mr. French. He is -a little better to-day. You'll promise not to fatigue him--but you must -first see Mr. M'Guinness. He can tell better than I whether his master -is sufficiently well to-day for an interview of the kind." - -So saying, Mrs. Martha sailed, with saint-like dignity, from the room. - -"_She_ rules the roost, I believe," said Mr. Audley within himself. "If -so, all's smooth from this forth. Here comes the gentleman, -however--and, by the laws, a very suitable co-mate for that painted -Jezebel." - -As Mr. Audley concluded this criticism, a small man, with a greasy and -dingy complexion, and in a rusty suit of black, made his appearance. - -This individual was, if possible, more subdued, meek, and -Christian-like than the lady who had just evacuated the room in his -favour. His eyes were, if possible, habitually more nearly closed; his -step was as soft and cat-like to the full; and, in a word, he was in -air, manner, gait, and expression as like his accomplice as a man can -well be to one of the other sex. - -A short explanation having passed between this person and Mr. Audley, -he retired for a few minutes to prepare his master for the visit, and -then returning, conducted the little bachelor upstairs. - - - - -CHAPTER LXV. - -THE CONFERENCE--SHOWING HOW OLIVER FRENCH BURST INTO A RAGE AND FLUNG -HIS CAP ON THE FLOOR. - - -Mr. Audley followed Black M'Guinness as we have said up the stairs, and -was, after an introductory knock at the door, ushered by him into -Oliver French's bed-room. Its arrangements were somewhat singular--a -dressing-table with all the appliances of the most elaborate -cultivation of the graces, and a huge mirror upon it, stood directly -opposite to the door; against the other wall, between the door and this -table, was placed a massive sideboard covered with plate and wine -flasks, cork-screws and cold meat, in the most admired disorder--two -large presses were also visible, one of which lay open, exhibiting -clothes, and papers, and other articles piled together in a highly -original manner--two or three very beautiful pictures hung upon the -walls. At the far end of the room stood the bed, and at one side of it -a table covered with wines and viands, and at the other, a large -iron-bound chest, with a heavy bunch of keys dangling from its lock--a -little shelf, too, occupied the wall beside the invalid, abundantly -stored with tall phials with parchment labels, and pill-boxes and -gallipots innumerable. In the bed, surrounded by the drapery of the -drawn curtains, lay, or rather sat, Oliver French himself, propped up -by the pillows: he was a corpulent man, with a generous double chin; a -good-natured grey eye twinkled under a bushy, grizzled eye-brow, and a -countenance which bore unequivocally the lines of masculine beauty, -although considerably disfigured by the traces of age, as well as of -something very like intemperance and full living: he wore a silk -night-gown and a shirt of snowy whiteness, with lace ruffles, and on -his head was a crimson velvet cap. - -Grotesque as were the arrangements of the room, there was, -nevertheless, about its occupant an air of aristocratic superiority and -ease which at once dispelled any tendency to ridicule. - -"Mr. Audley, I presume," said the invalid. - -Mr. Audley bowed. - -"Pray, sir, take a chair. M'Guinness, place a chair for Mr. Audley, -beside the table here. I am, as you see, sir," continued he, "a -confirmed valetudinarian; I suffer abominably from gout, and have not -been able to remove to my easy chair by the fire for more than a week. -I understand that you have some matters of importance to communicate to -me; but before doing so, let me request of you to take a little wine, -you can have whatever you like best--there's some Madeira at your elbow -there, which I can safely recommend, as I have just tasted it -myself--o-oh! d---- the gout--you'll excuse me, sir--a cursed twinge." - -"Very sorry to see you suffering," responded Mr. Audley--"very, indeed, -sir." - -"It sha'n't, however, prevent my doing you reason, sir," replied he, -with alacrity. "M'Guinness, two glasses. I drink, sir, to our better -acquaintance. Now, M'Guinness, you may leave the room." - -Accordingly Mr. M'Guinness withdrew, and the gentlemen were left -_tete-a-tete_. - -"And now, sir," continued Oliver French, "be so good as to open the -subject of your visit." - -Mr. Audley cleared his voice twice or thrice, in the hope of clearing -his head at the same time, and then, with some force and embarrassment, -observed,-- - -"I am necessarily obliged, Mr. French, to allude to matters which may -possibly revive unpleasant recollections. I trust, indeed, my dear -sir,--I'm sure that you will not suffer yourself to be distressed or -unduly excited, when I tell you that I must recall to your memory a -name which I believe does not sound gratefully to your ear--the name of -Ashwoode." - -"Curse them," was the energetic commentary of the invalid. - -"Well, sir, I dare venture to say that you and I are not very much at -variance in our estimate of the character of the Ashwoodes generally," -said Mr. Audley. "You are aware, I presume, that Sir Richard has been -some time dead." - -"Ha! actually _gone_ to hell?--no, sir, I was not aware of this. Pray, -proceed, sir," responded Oliver French. - -"I am aware, sir, that he treated his lady harshly," resumed Audley. - -"Harshly, _harshly_, sir," cried the old man, with an energy that well -nigh made his companion bounce from his seat--"why, sir, beginning with -neglect and ending with blows--through every stage of savage insult and -injury, his wretched wife, my sister--the most gentle, trusting, lovely -creature that ever yet was born to misery, was dragged by that inhuman -monster, her husband, Sir Richard Ashwoode; he broke her heart--he -killed her, sir--_killed_ her. She was my sister--my only sister; I was -justly proud of her--loved her most dearly, and the inhuman villain -broke her heart." - -Through his clenched teeth he uttered a malediction, and with a -vehemence of hatred which plainly showed that his feelings toward the -family had undergone no favourable change. - -"Well, sir," resumed Mr. Audley, after a considerable interval, "I -cannot wonder at the strength of your feelings in this matter, more -especially at this moment. I myself burn with indignation scarce one -degree less intense than yours against the worthy son of that most -execrable man, and upon grounds, too, very nearly similar." - -He then proceeded to recount to his auditor, waxing warm as he went on, -all the circumstances of Mary Ashwoode's sufferings, and every -particular of the grievous persecution which she had endured at the -hands of her brother, Sir Henry. Oliver French ground his teeth and -clutched the bed-clothes as he listened, and when the narrative was -ended, he whisked the velvet cap from his head, and flung it with all -his force upon the floor. - -"Oh, God Almighty! that I had but the use of my limbs," exclaimed he, -with desperation--"I would give the whole world a lesson in the person -of that despicable scoundrel. I would--but," he added bitterly, "I am -powerless--I am a cripple." - -"You are not powerless, sir, for purposes nobler than revenge," -exclaimed Audley, with eagerness; "you may shelter and protect the -helpless, friendless child of calamity, the story of whose wrongs has -so justly fired you with indignation." - -"Where is she--where?" cried Oliver French, eagerly--"I ought to have -asked you long ago." - -"She is not far away--she even now awaits your decision in the little -village hard by," responded Mr. Audley. - -"Poor child--poor child!" ejaculated Oliver, much agitated. "And did -she--could she doubt my willingness to befriend her--good God--could -she doubt it?--bring her--bring her here at once--I long to see -her--poor bird--poor bird--the world's winter has closed over thee too -soon. Alas! poor child--tell her--tell her, Mr. Audley, that I long to -see her--that she is most welcome--that all which I command is heartily -and entirely at her service. Plead my apology for not going myself to -meet her--as God knows I would fain do; you see I am a poor cripple--a -very worthless, helpless, good-for-nothing old man. Tell her all better -than I can do it now. God bless you, sir--God bless you, for believing -that such an ill-conditioned old fellow as I am had yet heart enough to -feel rightly sometimes. I had rather die a thousand deaths than that -you had not brought the poor outcast child to my roof. Tell her how -glad--how very, very happy--how proud it makes me that she should come -to her old uncle Oliver--tell her this. God bless you, sir!" - -With a cordial pressure, he gripped Audley's hand, and the old -gentleman, with a heart overflowing with exultation and delight, -retraced his steps to the little village, absolutely bursting with -impatience to communicate the triumphant result of his visit. - - - - -CHAPTER LXVI. - -THE BED-CHAMBER. - - -Black M'Guinness and Mistress Martha had listened in vain to catch the -purport of Mr. Audley's communication. Unfortunately for them, their -master's chamber was guarded by a double door, and his companion had -taken especial pains to close both of them before detailing the subject -of his visit. They were, however a good deal astonished by Mr. French's -insisting upon rising forthwith, and having himself clothed and shaved. -This huge, good-natured lump of gout was, accordingly, arrayed in full -suit--one of the handsomest which his wardrobe commanded--his velvet -cap replaced by a flowing peruke--his gouty feet smothered in endless -flannels, and himself deposited in his great easy chair by the fire, -and his lower extremities propped up upon stools and pillows. These -preparations, along with a complete re-arrangement of the furniture, -and other contents of the room, effectually perplexed and somewhat -alarmed his disinterested dependents. - -Mr. Audley returned ere the preparations were well completed, and -handed Mary Ashwoode and her attendant from the chaise. It needs not to -say how the old bachelor of Ardgillagh received her--with, perhaps, the -more warmth and tenderness that, as he protested, with tears in his -eyes, she was so like her poor mother, that he felt as if old times had -come again, and that she stood once more before him, clothed in the -melancholy beauty of her early and ill-fated youth. It were idle to -describe the overflowing kindness of the old man's greeting, and the -depth of gratitude with which his affectionate and hearty welcome was -accepted by the poor grieved girl. He would scarcely, for the whole -evening, allow her to leave him for one moment; and every now and again -renewed his pressing invitation to her and to Mr. Audley to take some -more wine or some new delicacy; he himself enforcing his solicitations -by eating and drinking in almost unbroken continuity during the whole -time. All his habits were those of the most unlimited self-indulgence; -and his chief, if not his sole recreation for years, had consisted in -compounding, during the whole day long, those astounding gastronomic -combinations, which embraced every possible variety of wine and -liqueur, of vegetable, meat, and confection; so that the fact of his -existing at all, under the extraordinary regimen which he had adopted, -was a triumph of the genius of digestion over the demon of dyspepsia, -such as this miserable world has seldom witnessed. Nevertheless, that -he did exist, and that too, apparently, in robust though unwieldy -health, with the exception of his one malady, his constitutional gout, -was a fact which nobody could look upon and dispute. With an -imperiousness which brooked no contradiction, he compelled Mr. Audley -to eat and drink very greatly more than he could conveniently -contain--browbeating the poor little gentleman into submission, and -swearing, in the most impressive manner, that he had not eaten one -ounce weight of food of any kind since his entrance into the house; -although the unhappy little gentleman felt at that moment like a boa -constrictor who has just bolted a buffalo, and pleaded in stifled -accents for quarter; but it would not do. Oliver French, Esq., had not -had his humour crossed, nor one of his fancies contradicted, for the -last forty years, and he was not now to be thwarted or put down by a -little "hop-o'-my-thumb," who, though ravenously hungry, pretended, -through mere perverseness, to be bursting with repletion. Mr. Audley's -labours were every now and again pleasingly relieved by such -applications as these from his merciless entertainer. - -"Now, my good friend--my worthy friend--will you think it too great a -liberty, sir, if I ask you to move the pillow a _leetle_ under this -foot?" - -"None in the world, sir--quite the contrary--I shall have the very -greatest possible pleasure," would poor Mr. Audley reply, preparing for -the task. - -"You are very good, sir, very kind, sir. Just draw it quietly to the -right--a little, a very little--you are very good, indeed, sir. Oh--oh, -O--oh, you--you booby--you'll excuse me, sir--gently--there, -there--gently, gently. O--oh, you d----d handless idiot--pray pardon -me, sir; that will do." - -Such passages as these were of frequent occurrence; but though Mr. -Audley was as choleric as most men at his time of life, yet the -incongruous terms of abuse were so obviously the result of inveterate -and almost unconscious habit, stimulated by the momentary twinges of -acute pain, that he did not suffer this for an instant to disturb the -serenity and goodwill with which he regarded his host, spite of all his -oddities and self-indulgence. - -In the course of the evening Oliver French ordered Mistress Martha to -have beds prepared for the party, and that lady, with rather a vicious -look, withdrew. She soon returned, and asked in her usual low, dulcet -tone, whether the young lady could spare her maid to assist in -arranging the room, and forthwith Flora Guy consigned herself to the -guidance of the sinister-looking Abigail. - -"This is a fine country, isn't it?" inquired Mistress Martha, softly, -when they were quite alone. - -"A very fine country, indeed, ma'am," rejoined Flora, who had heard -enough to inspire her with a certain awe of her conductress, which -inclined her as much as possible to assent to whatever proposition she -might be inclined to advance, without herself hazarding much original -matter. - -"It's a pity you can't see it in the summer time; this is a very fine -place indeed when all the leaves are on the trees," repeated Mistress -Martha. - -"Indeed, so I'd take it to be, ma'am," rejoined the maid. - -"Just passing through this way--hurried like, you can't notice much -about it though," remarked the elderly lady, carelessly. - -"No, ma'am," replied Flora, becoming more reserved, as she detected in -her companion a wish to draw from her all she knew of her mistress's -plans. - -"There are some views that are greatly admired in the -neighbourhood--the glen and the falls of Glashangower. If she could -stay a week she might see everything." - -"Oh! indeed, it's a lovely place," observed Flora, evasively. - -"That old gentleman, that Mr. Audley, your young mistress's father, -or--or uncle, or whatever he is"--Mistress Martha here made a -considerable pause, but Flora did not enlighten her, and she -continued--"whatever he is to her, it's no matter, he seems a very -good-humoured nice old gentleman--he's in a great hurry back to Dublin, -where he came from, I suppose." - -"Well, I really don't know," replied the girl. - -"He looks very comfortable, and everything handsome and nice about -him," observed Mistress Martha again. "I suppose he's well off--plenty -of money--not in want at all." - -"Indeed he seems all that," rejoined the maid. - -"He's cousin, or something or another, to the master, Mr. French; -didn't you tell me so?" asked the painted Abigail. - -"No, ma'am; I didn't tell you; I don't know," replied she. - -"This is a very damp old house, and full of rats; I wish I had known a -week ago that beds would be wanting; but I suppose it was a sudden -thing," said the housekeeper. - -"Indeed, I suppose it just was, ma'am," responded the attendant. - -"Are you going to stay here long?" asked the old lady, more briskly -than she had yet spoken. - -"Raly, ma'am, I don't know," replied Flora. - -The old painted termagant shot a glance at her of no pleasant meaning; -but for the present checked the impulse in which it had its birth, and -repeated softly--"You don't know; why, you are a very innocent, simple -little girl." - -"Pray, ma'am, if it's not making too bold, which is the room, ma'am?" -asked Flora. - -"What's your young lady's name?" asked the matron, directly, and -disregarding the question of the girl. - -Flora Guy hesitated. - -"Do you hear me--what's your young lady's name?" repeated the woman, -softly, but deliberately. - -"Her name, to be sure; her name is Miss Mary," replied she. - -"Mary _what_?" asked Martha. - -"Miss Mary Ashwoode," replied Flora, half afraid as she uttered it. - -Spite of all her efforts, the woman's face exhibited disagreeable -symptoms of emotion at this announcement; she bit her lips and dropped -her eyelids lower than usual, to conceal the expression which gleamed -to her eyes, while her colour shifted even through her rouge. At -length, with a smile infinitely more unpleasant than any expression -which her face had yet worn, she observed,-- - -"Ashwoode, Ashwoode. Oh! dear, to be sure; some of Sir Richard's -family; well, I did not expect to see them darken these doors again. -Dear me! who'd have thought of the Ashwoodes looking after him again? -well, well, but they're a very forgiving family," and she uttered an -ill-omened tittering. - -"Which is the room, ma'am, if you please?" repeated Flora. - -"That's the room," cried the stalwart dame, with astounding vehemence, -and at the same time opening a door and exhibiting a large neglected -bed-chamber, with its bed-clothes and other furniture lying about in -entire disorder, and no vestige of a fire in the grate; "that's the -room, miss, and make the best of it yourself, for you've nothing else -to do." - -In this very uncomfortable predicament Flora Guy applied herself -energetically to reduce the room to something like order, and although -it was very cold and not a little damp, she succeeded, nevertheless, in -giving it an air of tolerable comfort by the time her young mistress -was prepared to retire to it. - -As soon as Mary Ashwoode had entered this chamber her maid proceeded to -narrate the occurrences which had just taken place. - -"Well, Flora," said she, smiling, "I hope the old lady will resume her -good temper by to-morrow, for one night I can easily contrive to rest -with such appliances as we have. I am more sorry, for your sake, my -poor girl, than for mine, however, and wherever I lay me down, my rest -will be, I fear me, very nearly alike." - -"She's the darkest, ill-lookingest old woman, God bless us, that ever I -set my two good-looking eyes upon, my lady," said Flora. "I'll put a -table to the door; for, to tell God's truth, I'm half afeard of her. -She has a nasty look in her, my lady--a bad look entirely." - -Flora had hardly spoken when the door opened, and the subject of their -conversation entered. - -"Good evening to you, Miss Ashwoode," said she, advancing close to the -young lady, and speaking in her usual low soft tone. "I hope you find -everything to your liking. I suppose your own maid has settled -everything according to your fancy. Of course, she knows best how to -please you. I'm very delighted to see you here in Ardgillagh, as I was -telling your innocent maid there--very glad, indeed; because, as I -said, it shows how forgiving you are, after all the master has said and -done, and the way he has always spit on every one of your family that -ever came here looking after his money--though, indeed, I'm sure you're -a great deal too good and too religious to care about money; and I'm -sure and certain it's only for the sake of Christian charity, and out -of a forgiving disposition, and to show that there isn't a bit of pride -of any sort, or kind, or description in your carcase--that you're come -here to make yourself at home in this house, that never belonged to -you, and that never will, and to beg favours of the gentleman that -hates, and despises, and insults everyone that carries your name--so -that the very dogs in the streets would not lick their blood. I like -that, Miss Ashwoode--I _do_ like it," she continued, advancing a little -nearer; "for it shows you don't care what bad people may say or think, -provided you do your Christian duty. They may say you're come here to -try and get the old gentleman's money; they may say that you're eaten -up to the very backbone with meanness, and that you'd bear to be kicked -and spit upon from one year's end to the other for the sake of a few -pounds--they'll call you a sycophant and a schemer--but you don't mind -that--and I admire you for it--they'll say, miss--for they don't -scruple at anything--they'll say you lost your character and fortune in -Dublin, and came down here in the hope of finding them again; but I -tell you what it is," she continued, giving full vent to her fury, and -raising her accents to a tone more resembling the scream of a -screech-owl than the voice of a human being, "I know what you're at, -and I'll blow your schemes, Miss Innocence. I'll make the house too hot -to hold you. Do you think I mind the old bed-ridden cripple, or anyone -else within its four walls? Hoo! I'd make no more of them or of you -than that old glass there;" and so saying, she hurled the candlestick, -with all her force, against the large mirror which depended from the -wall, and dashed it to atoms. - -"Hoo! hoo!" she screamed, "you think I am afraid to do what I -threatened; but wait--wait, I say; and now good-night to you, Miss -Ashwoode, for the first time, and pleasant dreams to you." - -So saying, the fiendish hag, actually quivering with fury, quitted the -room, drawing the door after her with a stunning crash, and leaving -Mary Ashwoode and her servant breathless with astonishment and -consternation. - - - - -CHAPTER LXVII. - -THE EXPULSION. - - -While this scene was going on in Mary Ashwoode's chamber, our friend -Oliver French, having wished Mr. Audley good-night, had summoned to his -presence his confidential servant, Mr. M'Guinness. The corpulent -invalid sat in his capacious chair by the fireside, with his muffled -legs extended upon a pile of pillows, a table loaded with the materials -of his protracted and omnigenous repast at his side. Black M'Guinness -made his appearance, evidently a little intoxicated, and not a little -excited. He proceeded in a serpentine course through the chamber, -overturning, of malice prepense, everything in which he came in -contact. - -"What the devil ails you, sir?" ejaculated Mr. French--"what the plague -do you mean? D--n you, M'Guinness, you're drunk, sir, or mad." - -"Ay, to be sure," ejaculated M'Guinness, grimly. "Why not--oh, do--I've -no objection; d----n away, sir, pray, do." - -"What do you mean by talking that way, you scoundrel?" exclaimed old -French. - -"Scoundrel!" repeated M'Guinness, overturning a small table, and all -thereupon, with a crash upon the floor, and approaching the old -gentleman, while his ugly face grew to a sickly, tallowy white with -rage, "you go for to bring a whole lot of beggarly squatters into the -house to make away with your substance, and to turn you against your -faithful, tried, trusty, and dutiful servants," he continued, shaking -his fist in his master's face. "You do, and to leave them, ten to one, -in their old days unprovided for. Damn ingratitude!--to the devil with -thankless, unnatural vermin! You call me scoundrel. Scoundrel was the -word--by this cross it was." - -While Oliver French, speechless with astonishment and rage, gazed upon -the audacious menial, Mistress Martha herself entered the chamber. - -"Yes, they are, you old dark-hearted hypocrite--they're settled -here--fixed in the house--they are," screamed she; "but they _sha'n't_ -stay long; or, if they do, I'll not leave a whole bone in their skins. -What did _they_ ever do for you, you thankless wretch?" - -"Ay, what did they ever do for you?" shouted M'Guinness. - -"Do you think we're fools--do you? and idiots--do you? not to know what -you're at, you ungrateful miscreant! Turn them out, bag and -baggage--every mother's skin of them, or I'll show them the reason why, -turn them out, I say." - -"You infernal hag, I'd see you in hell or Bedlam first," shouted -Oliver, transported with fury. "You have had your way too long, you -accursed witch--you have." - -"Never mind--oh!--you wretch," shrieked she--"never mind--wait a -bit--and never fear, you old crippled sinner, I'll be revenged on you, -you old devil's limb. Here's your watch for you," screamed she, -snatching a massive, chased gold watch from her side, and hurling it at -his head. It passed close by his ear, and struck the floor behind him, -attesting the force with which it had been thrown, as well as the -solidity of its workmanship, by a deep mark ploughed in the floor. - -Oliver French grasped his crutch and raised it threateningly. - -"You old wretch, I'll not let you strike the woman," cried M'Guinness, -snatching the poker, and preparing to dash it at the old man's head. -What might have been the issue of the strife it were hard to say, had -not Mr. Audley at that moment entered the room. - -"Heyday!" cried that gentleman, "I thought it had been robbers--what's -all this?" - -M'Guinness turned upon him, but observing that he carried a pistol in -each hand, he contented himself with muttering a curse and lowering the -poker which he held in his hand. - -"Why, what the devil--your own servants--your own man and woman!" -exclaimed Mr. Audley. "I beg your pardon, sir--pray excuse me, Mr. -French; perhaps I ought not to have intruded upon you." - -"Pray don't go, Mr. Audley--don't think of going," said Oliver, -eagerly, observing that his visitor was drawing to the door. "These -beasts will murder me if you leave me; I can't help myself--do stay." - -"Pray, madam, you are the amiable and remarkably quiet gentlewoman with -whom I was to-day honoured by an interview? God bless my body and soul, -can it possibly be?" said Mr. Audley, addressing himself to the lady. - -"You vile old swindling schemer," shrieked she, returning--"you -skulking, mean dog--you brandy-faced old reprobate, you--hoo! wait, -wait--wait awhile; I'll master you yet--just wait--never mind--hoo!" -and with something like an Indian war-whoop she dashed out of the room. - -"Get out of this apartment, you ruffian, you--M'Guinness, get out of -the room," cried old French, addressing the fellow, who still stood -grinning and growling there. - -"No, I'll not till I do my business," retorted the man, doggedly; "I'll -put you to bed first. I've a right to do my own business; I'll undress -you and put you to bed first--bellows me, but I will." - -"Mr. Audley, I beg pardon for troubling you," said Oliver, "but will -you pull the bell if you please, like the very devil." - -"Pull away till you are black in the face; _I'll_ not stir," retorted -M'Guinness. - -Mr. Audley pulled the bell with a sustained vehemence which it put Mr. -French into a perspiration even to witness. - -"Pull away, old gentleman--you may pull till you burst--to the devil -with you all. I'll not stir a peg till I choose it myself; I'll do my -business what I was hired for; there's no treason in that. D---- me, if -I stir a peg for you," repeated M'Guinness, doggedly. - -Meanwhile, two half-dressed, scared-looking servants, alarmed by Mr. -Audley's persevering appeals, showed themselves at the door. - -"Thomas--Martin--come in here, you pair of boobies," exclaimed French, -authoritatively; "Martin, do you keep an eye on that scoundrel, and -Thomas, run you down and waken the post-boy and tell him to put his -horses to, and do you assist him, sir, away!" - -With unqualified amazement in their faces, the men proceeded to obey -their orders. - -"So, so," said Oliver, still out of breath with anger, "matters are -come to a pleasant pass, I'm to be brained with my own poker--by my own -servant--in my own house--very pleasant, because forsooth, I dare to do -what I please with my own--highly agreeable, truly! Mr. Audley, may I -trouble you to give me a glass of noyeau--let me recommend that to you, -Mr. Audley, it has the true flavour--nay, nay--I'll hear of no -excuse--I'm absolute in my own room at least--come, my dear sir--I -implore--I insist--nay, I command; come--come--a bumper; very good -health, sir; a pleasant pair of furies!--just give me the legs of that -woodcock while we are waiting." - -Accordingly Mr. Oliver French filled up the brief interval after his -usual fashion, by adding slightly to the contents of his stomach, and -in a little time the servant whom he had dispatched downward, returned -with the post-boy in person. - -"Are your horses under the coach, my good lad?" inquired old French. - -"No, but they're to it, and that's better," responded the charioteer. - -"You'll not have far to go--only to the little village at the end of -the avenue," said Mr. French. "Mr. Audley, may I trouble you to fill a -large glass of Creme de Portugal; thank you; now, my good lad, take -that," continued he, delighted at an opportunity of indulging his -passion for ministering to the stomach of a fellow mortal, "take -it--take it--every drop--good--now Martin, do you and Thomas find that -termagant--fury--Martha Montgomery, and conduct her to the coach--carry -her down if necessary--put her into it, and one of you remain with her, -to prevent her getting out again, and let the other return, and with my -friend the post-boy, do a like good office by my honest comrade Mr. -M'Guinness--mind you go along with them to the village, and let them be -set down at Moroney's public-house; everything belonging to them shall -be sent down to-morrow morning, and if you ever catch either of them -about the place--duck them--whip them--set the dogs on them--that's -all." - -Shrieking as though body and soul were parting, Mrs. Martha was -half-carried, half-dragged from the scene of her long-abused authority; -screaming her threats, curses, and abuse in volleys, she was deposited -safely in the vehicle, and guarded by the footman--who in secret -rejoiced in common with all the rest of the household at the disgrace -of the two insolent favourites--and was forced to sit therein until her -companion in misfortune being placed at her side, they were both, under -a like escort, safely deposited at the door of the little public-house, -scarcely crediting the evidence of their senses for the reality of -their situation. - - -Henceforward Ardgillagh was a tranquil place, and day after day old -Oliver French grew to love the gentle creature, whom a chance wind had -thus carried to his door, more and more fondly. There was an -artlessness and a warmth of affection, and a kindliness about her, -which all, from the master down to the humblest servant, felt and -loved; a grace, and dignity, and a simple beauty in every look and -action, which none could see and not admire. The strange old man, whose -humour had never brooked contradiction, felt for her, he knew not why, -a tenderness and respect such as he never before believed a mortal -creature could inspire; her gentle wish was law to him; to see her -sweet face was his greatest joy--to please her his first ambition; she -grew to be, as it were, his idol. - -It was her chief delight to ramble unattended through the fine old -place. Often, with her faithful follower, Flora Guy, she would visit -the humble dwellings of the poor, wherever grief or sickness was, and -with gentle words of comfort and bounteous pity, cheer and relieve. But -still, from week to week it became too mournfully plain that the sweet, -sad face was growing paler and ever paler, and the graceful form more -delicately slight. In the silent watches of the night often would Flora -Guy hear her loved young mistress weep on for hours, as though her -heart were breaking; yet from her lips there never fell at any time one -word of murmuring, nor any save those of gentle kindness; and often -would she sit by the casement and reverently read the pages of one old -volume, and think and read again, while ever and anon the silent tears, -gathering on the long, dark lashes, would fall one by one upon the -leaf, and then would she rise with such a smile of heavenly comfort -breaking through her tears, that peace, and hope, and glory seemed -beaming in her pale angelic face. - -Thus from day to day, in the old mansion of Ardgillagh, did she, whose -beauty none, even the most stoical, had ever seen unmoved--whose -artless graces and perfections all who had ever beheld her had thought -unmatched, fade slowly and uncomplainingly, but with beauty if possible -enhanced, before the eyes of those who loved her; yet they hoped on, -and strongly hoped--why should they not? She was young--yes, very -young, and why should the young die in the glad season of their early -bloom? - -Mr. Audley became a wondrous favourite with his eccentric entertainer, -who would not hear of his fixing a time for his departure, but partly -by entreaties, partly by bullying, managed to induce him to prolong his -stay from week to week. These concessions were not, however, made -without corresponding conditions imposed by the consenting party, among -the foremost of which was the express stipulation that he should not be -expected, nor by cajolery nor menaces induced or compelled, to eat or -drink at all more than he himself felt prompted by the cravings of his -natural appetite to do. The old gentlemen had much in common upon which -to exercise their sympathies; they were both staunch Tories, both -admirable judges of claret, and no less both extraordinary proficients -in the delectable pastimes of backgammon and draughts, whereat, when -other resources failed, they played with uncommon industry and -perseverance, and sometimes indulged in slight ebullitions of -acrimonious feeling, scarcely exhibited, however, before they were -atoned for by fervent apologies and vehement vows of good behaviour for -the future. - -Leaving this little party to the quiet seclusion of Ardgillagh, it -becomes now our duty to return for a time to very different scenes and -other personages. - - - - -CHAPTER LXVIII. - -THE FRAY. - - -It now becomes our duty to return for a short time to Sir Henry -Ashwoode and Nicholas Blarden, whom we left in hot pursuit of the -trembling fugitives. The night was consumed in vain but restless -search, and yet no satisfactory clue to the direction of their flight -had been discovered; no evidence, not even a hint, by which to guide -their pursuit. Jaded by his fruitless exertions, frantic with rage and -disappointment, Nicholas Blarden at peep of light rode up to the hall -door of Morley Court. - -"No news since?" cried he, fixing his bloodshot eyes upon the man who -took his horse's bridle, "no news since?" - -"No, sir," cried the fellow, shaking his head, "not a word." - -"Is Sir Henry within?" inquired Blarden, throwing himself from the -saddle. - -"No, sir," replied the man. - -"Not returned yet, eh?" asked Nicholas. - -"Yes, sir, he did return, and he left again about ten minutes ago," -responded the groom. - -"And left no message for me, eh?" rejoined Blarden. - -"There's a note, sir, on a scrap of paper, on the table in the hall, I -forgot to mention," replied the man--"he wrote it in a hurry, with a -pencil, sir." - -Blarden strode into the hall, and easily discovered the document--a -hurried scrawl, scarcely legible; it ran as follows:-- - - "Nothing yet--no trace--I half suspect they're lurking in the - neighbourhood of the house. I must return to town--there are two - places which I forgot to try. Meet me, if you can--say in the old - Saint Columbkil; it's a deserted place, in the morning about ten or - eleven o'clock. - - "HENRY ASHWOODE." - -Blarden glanced quickly through this effusion. - -"A precious piece of paper, that!" muttered he, tearing it across, -"worthy of its author--a cursed greenhorn; consume him for a _mouth_, -but no matter--no matter yet. Here, you rake-helly squad, some of you," -shouted he, addressing himself at random to the servants, one of whom -he heard approaching, "here, I say, get me some food and drink, and -don't be long about it either, I can scarce stand." So saying, and -satisfied that his directions would be promptly attended to, he -shambled into one of the sitting-rooms, and flung himself at his full -length upon a sofa; his disordered and bespattered dress and -mud-stained boots contrasted agreeably with the rich crimson damask and -gilded backs and arms of the couch on which he lay. As he applied -himself voraciously to the solid fare and the wines with which he was -speedily supplied, a thousand incoherent schemes, and none of them of -the most amiable kind, busily engaged his thoughts. After many -wandering speculations, he returned again to a subject which had more -than once already presented itself. "And then for the brother, the -fellow that laid his blows on me before a whole play-house full of -people, the vile spawn of insolent beggary, that struck me till his arm -was fairly tired with striking--I'm no fool to forget such things--the -rascally forging ruffian--the mean, swaggering, lying bully--no -matter--he must be served out in style, and so he shall. I'll not hang -him though, I may turn him to account yet, some way or other--no, I'll -not hang him, keep the halter in my hand--the best trump for the last -card--hold the gallows over him, and make him lead a pleasant sort of -life of it, one way or other. I'll not leave a spark of pride in his -body I'll not thrash out of him. I'll make him meeker and sleeker and -humbler than a spaniel; he shall, before the face of all the world, -just bear what I give him, and do what I bid him, like a trained -dog--sink me, but he shall." - -Somewhat comforted by these ruminations, Nicholas Blarden arose from a -substantial meal, and a reverie, which had occupied some hours; and -without caring to remove from his person the traces of his toilsome -exertions of the night past, nor otherwise to render himself one whit a -less slovenly and neglected-looking figure than when he had that -morning dismounted at the hall door, he called for a fresh horse, threw -himself into the saddle, and spurred away for Dublin city. - -He reached the doorway of the old Saint Columbkil, and, under the -shadow of its ancient sign-board, dismounted. He entered the tavern, -but Ashwoode was not there; and, in answer to his inquiries, Mr. -Blarden was informed that Sir Henry Ashwoode had gone over to the "Cock -and Anchor," to have his horse cared for, and that he was momentarily -expected back. - -Blarden consulted his huge gold watch. "It's eleven o'clock now, every -minute of it, and he's not come--hoity toity rather, I should say, all -things considered. I thought he was better up to his game by this -time--but no matter--I'll give him a lesson just now." - -As if for the express purpose of further irritating Mr. Blarden's -already by no means angelic temper, several parties, composed of -second-rate sporting characters, all laughing, swearing, joking, -betting, whistling, and by every device, contriving together to produce -as much clatter and uproar as it was possible to do, successively -entered the place. - -"Well, Nicky, boy, how does the world wag with you?" inquired a dapper -little fellow, approaching Blarden with a kind of brisk, hopping gait, -and coaxingly digging that gentleman's ribs with the butt of his -silver-mounted whip. - -"What the devil brings all these chaps here at this hour?" inquired -Blarden. - -"Soft is your horn, old boy," rejoined his acquaintance, in the same -arch strain of pleasantry; "two regular good mains to be fought -to-day--tough ones, I promise you--Fermanagh Dick against Long -White--fifty birds each--splendid fowls, I'm told--great betting--it -will come off in little more than an hour." - -"I don't care if it never comes off," rejoined Blarden; "I'm waiting -for a chap that ought to have been here half an hour ago. Rot him, I'm -sick waiting." - -"Well, come, I'll tell you how we'll pass the time. I'll toss you for -guineas, as many tosses as you like," rejoined the small gentleman, -accommodatingly. "What do you say--is it a go?" - -"Sit down, then," replied Blarden; "sit down, can't you? and begin." - -Accordingly the two friends proceeded to recreate themselves thus -pleasantly. Mr. Blarden's luck was decidedly bad, and he had been -already "physicked," as his companion playfully remarked, to the amount -of some five-and-twenty guineas, and his temper had become in a -corresponding degree affected, when he observed Sir Henry Ashwoode, -jaded, haggard, and with dress disordered, approaching the place where -he sat. - -"Blarden, we had better leave this place," said Ashwoode, glancing -round at the crowded benches; "there's too much noise here. What say -you?" - -"What do I say?" rejoined Blarden, in his very loudest and most -insolent tone--"I say you have made an appointment and broke it, so -stand there till it's my convenience to talk to you--that's all." - -Ashwoode felt his blood tingling in his veins with fury as he observed -the sneering significant faces of those who, attracted by the loud -tones of Nicholas Blarden, watched the effect of his insolence upon its -object. He heard conversations subside into whispers and titters among -the low scoundrels who enjoyed his humiliation; yet he dared not answer -Blarden as he would have given worlds at that moment to have done, and -with the extremest difficulty restrained himself from rushing among the -vile rabble who exulted in his degradation, and compelling _them_ at -least to respect and fear him. While he stood thus with compressed lips -and a face pale as ashes with rage, irresolute what course to take, one -of the coins for which Blarden played rolled along the table, and -thence along the floor for some distance. - -"Go, fetch that guinea--jump, will you?" cried Blarden, in the same -boisterous and intentionally insolent tone. "What are you standing -there for, like a stick? Pick it up, sir." - -Ashwoode did not move, and an universal titter ran round the -spectators, whose attention was now effectually enlisted. - -"Do what I order you--do it this moment. D---- your audacity, you had -better do it," said Blarden, dashing his clenched fist on the table so -as to make the coin thereon jump and jingle. - -Still Ashwoode remained resolutely fixed, trembling in every joint with -very passion; prudence told him that he ought to leave the place -instantly, but pride and obstinacy, or his evil angel, held him there. - -The sneering whispers of the crowd, who now pressed more nearly round -them in the hope of some amusement, became more and more loud and -distinct, and the words, "white feather," "white liver," "muff," "cur," -and other terms of a like import reached Ashwoode's ear. Furious at the -contumacy of his wretched slave, and determined to overbear and humble -him, Blarden exclaimed in a tone of ferocious menace,-- - -"Do as I bid you, you cursed, insolent upstart--pick up that coin, and -give it to me--or by the laws, you'll shake for it." - -Still Ashwoode moved not. - -"Do as I bid you, you robbing swindler," shouted he, with an oath too -appalling for our pages, and again rising, and stamping on the floor, -"or I'll give you to the crows." - -The titter which followed this menace was unexpectedly interrupted. The -young man's aspect changed; the blood rushed in livid streams to his -face; his dark eyes blazed with deadly fire; and, like the bursting of -a storm, all the gathering rage and vengeance of weeks in one -tremendous moment found vent. With a spring like that of a tiger, he -rushed upon his persecutor, and before the astonished spectators could -interfere, he had planted his clenched fists dozens of times, with -furious strength, in Blarden's face. Utterly destitute of personal -courage, the wretch, though incomparably a more powerful man than his -light-limbed antagonist, shrank back, stunned and affrighted, under the -shower of blows, and stumbled and fell over a wooden stool. With -murderous resolution, Ashwoode instantly drew his sword, and another -moment would have witnessed the last of Blarden's life, had not several -persons thrown themselves between that person and his frantic -assailant. - -"Hold back," cried one. "The man's down--don't murder him." - -"Down with him--he's mad!" cried another; "brain him with the stool." - -"Hold his arm, some of you, or he'll murder the man!" shouted a third, -"hold him, will you?" - -Overpowered by numbers, with his face lacerated and his clothes torn, -and his naked sword still in his hand, Ashwoode struggled and foamed, -and actually howled, to reach his abhorred enemy--glaring like a -baffled beast upon his prey. - -"Send for constables, quick--_quick_, I say," shouted Blarden, with a -frantic imprecation, his face all bleeding under his recent discipline. - -"Let me go--let me go, I tell you, or by the father that made me, I'll -send my sword through half-a-dozen of you," almost shrieked Ashwoode. - -"Hold him--hold him fast--consume you, hold him back!" shouted Blarden; -"he's a forger!--run for constables!" - -Several did run in various directions for peace officers. - -"Wring the sword from his hand, why don't you?" cried one; "cut it out -of his hand with a knife!" - -"Knock him down!--down with him! Hold on!" - -Amid such exclamations, Ashwoode at length succeeded, by several -desperate efforts, in extricating himself from those who held him; and -without hat, and with clothes rent to fragments in the scuffle, and his -face and hands all torn and bleeding, still carrying his naked sword in -his hand, he rushed from the room, and, followed at a respectable -distance by several of those who had witnessed the scuffle, and by his -distracted appearance attracting the wondering gaze of those who -traversed the streets, he ran recklessly onward to the "Cock and -Anchor." - - - - -CHAPTER LXIX. - -THE BOLTED WINDOW. - - -Followed at some distance by a wondering crowd, he entered the -inn-yard, where, for the first time, he checked his flight, and -returned his sword to the scabbard. - -"Here, ostler, groom--quickly, here!" cried Ashwoode. "In the devil's -name, where are you?" - -The ostler presented himself, gazing in unfeigned astonishment at the -distracted, pale, and bleeding figure before him. - -"Where have you put my horse?" said Ashwoode. - -"The boy's whisping him down in the back stable, your honour," replied -he. - -"Have him saddled and bridled in three seconds," said Ashwoode, -striding before the man towards the place indicated. "I'll make it -worth your while. My life--my _life_ depends on it!" - -"Never fear," said the fellow, quickening his pace, "may I never buckle -a strap if I don't." - -With these words, they entered the stable together, but the horse was -not there. - -"Confound them, they brought him to the dark stable, I suppose," said -the groom, impatiently. "Come along, sir." - -"'Sdeath! it will be too late! Quick!--quick, man!--in the fiend's -name, be quick!" said Ashwoode, glaring fearfully towards the entrance -to the inn-yard. - -Their visit to the second stable was not more satisfactory. - -"Where the devil's Sir Henry Ashwoode's horse?" inquired the groom, -addressing a fellow who was seated on an oat-bin, drumming listlessly -with his heels upon its sides, and smoking a pipe the while--"where's -the horse?" repeated he. - -The man first satisfied his curiosity by a leisurely view of Ashwoode's -disordered dress and person, and then removed his pipe deliberately -from his mouth, and spat upon the ground. - -"Where's Sir Henry's horse?" he repeated. "Why, Jim took him out a -quarter of an hour ago, walking down towards the Poddle there. I'm -thinking he'll be back soon now." - -"Saddle a horse--any horse--only let him be sure and fleet," cried -Ashwoode, "and I'll pay you his price thrice over!" - -"Well, it's a bargain," replied the groom, promptly; "I don't like to -see a gentleman caught in a hobble, if I can help him out of it. Take -my advice, though, and duck your head under the water in the trough -there; your face is full of blood and dust, and couldn't but be noticed -wherever you went." - -While the groom was with marvellous celerity preparing the horse which -he selected for the young man's service, Ashwoode, seeing the -reasonableness of his advice, ran to the large trough full of water -which stood before the pump in the inn-yard; but as he reached it, he -perceived the entrance of some four or five persons into the little -quadrangle whom, at a glance, he discovered to be constables. - -"That's him--he's our bird! After him!--there he goes!" cried several -voices. - -Ashwoode sprang up the stairs of the gallery which, as in most old -inns, overhung the yard. He ran along it, and rushed into the first -passage which opened from it. This he traversed with his utmost speed, -and reached a chamber door. It was fastened; but hurling himself -against it with his whole weight, he burst it open, the hoarse voices -of his pursuers, and their heavy tread, ringing in his ears. He ran -directly to the casement; it looked out upon a narrow by-lane. He -strove to open it, that he might leap down upon the pavement, but it -resisted his efforts; and, driven to bay, and hearing the steps at the -very door of the chamber, he turned about and drew his sword. - - [Illustration: "Driven to bay ... he drew his sword." - _To face page 338._] - -"Come, no sparring," cried the foremost, a huge fellow in a great coat, -and with a bludgeon in his hand; "give in quietly; you're regularly -caged." - -As the fellow advanced, Ashwoode met him with a thrust of his sword. -The constable partly threw it up with his hand, but it entered the -fleshy part of his arm, and came out near his shoulder blade. - -"Murder! murder!--help! help!" shouted the man, staggering back, while -two or three more of his companions thrust themselves in at the door. - -Ashwoode had hardly disengaged his sword, when a tremendous blow upon -the knuckles with a bludgeon dashed it from his grasp, and almost at -the same instant, he received a second blow upon the head, which felled -him to the ground, insensible, and weltering in blood, the execrations -and uproar of his assailants still ringing in his ears. - -"Lift him on the bed. Pull off his cravat. By the hoky, he's done for. -Devil a kick in him. Open his vest. Are you hurted, Crotty? Get some -water and spirits, some of yees, an' a towel. Begorra, we just nicked -him. He's an active chap. See, he's opening his mouth and his eyes. -Hould him, Teague, for he's the devil's bird. Never mind it, Crotty. -Devil a fear of you. Tear open the shirt. Bedad, it was close shaving. -Give him a drop iv the brandy. Never a fear of you, old bulldog." - -These and such broken sentences from fifty voices filled the little -chamber where Ashwoode lay in dull and ghastly insensibility after his -recent deadly struggle, while some stuped the wounds of the combatants -with spirits and water, and others applied the same medicaments to -their own interiors, and all talked loud and fast together, as men are -apt to do after scenes of excitement. - - -We need not follow Ashwoode through the dreadful preliminaries which -terminated in his trial. In vain did he implore an interview with -Nicholas Blarden, his relentless prosecutor. It were needless to enter -into the evidence for the prosecution, and that for the defence, -together with the points made arguments, and advanced by the opposing -counsel; it is enough to know that the case was conducted with much -ability on both sides, and that the jury, having deliberated for more -than an hour, at length found the verdict which we shall just now -state. A baronet in the dock was too novel an exhibition to fail in -drawing a full attendance, and the consequence was, that never was -known such a crowd of human beings in a compass so small as that which -packed the court-house upon this memorable occasion. - -Throughout the whole proceedings, Sir Henry Ashwoode, though deadly -pale, conducted himself with singular coolness and self-possession, -frequently suggesting questions to his counsel, and watching the -proceedings apparently with a mind as disengaged from every agitating -consciousness of personal danger as that of any of the indifferent but -curious bystanders who looked on. He was handsomely dressed, and in his -degraded and awful situation preserved, nevertheless, in his outward -mien and attire, the dignity of his rank and former pretensions. As is -invariably the case in Ireland, popular sympathy moved strongly in -favour of the prisoner, a feeling of interest which the grace, beauty, -and evident youth of the accused, as well as his high rank--for the -Irish have ever been an aristocratic race--served much to enhance; and -when the case closed, and the jury retired after an adverse charge from -the learned judge, to consider their verdict, perhaps Ashwoode himself -would have seemed, to the careless observer, the least interested in -the result of all who were assembled in that densely crowded place, to -hear the final adjudication of the law. Those, however, who watched him -more narrowly could observe, in this dreadful interval, that he raised -his handkerchief often to his face, keeping it almost constantly at his -mouth to conceal the nervous twitching of the muscles which he could -not control. The eyes of the eager multitude wandered from the prisoner -to the jury-box, and thence to the impassive parchment countenance of -the old ermined effigy who presided at the harrowing scene, and not one -ventured to speak above his breath. At length, a sound was heard at the -door of the jury-box--the jury was returning. A buzz ran through the -court, and then the prolonged "hish," enjoining silence, while one by -one the jurors entered and resumed their places in the box. The verdict -was--Guilty. - -In reply to the usual interrogatory from the officer of the court, Sir -Henry Ashwoode spoke, and though many there were moved, even to sobs -and tears, yet his manner had recovered its grace and collectedness, -and his voice was unbroken and musical as when it was wont to charm all -hearers in the gay saloons of fashion, and splendour, and heedless -folly, in other times--when he, blasted and ruined as he stood there, -was the admired and courted favourite of the great and gay. - -"My lord," said he, "I have nothing to urge which, in the strict -requirements of the law, avails to abate the solemn sentence which you -are about to pronounce--for my life I care not--something is, however, -due to my character and the name I bear--a name, my lord, never, never -except on this day, never clouded by the shadow of dishonour--a name -which will yet, after I am dead and gone, be surely and entirely -vindicated; vindicated, my lord, in the entire dispersion of the foul -imputations and fatal contrivances under which my fame is darkened and -my life is taken. Far am I from impeaching the verdict that I have just -heard. I will not arraign the jurymen, nor lay to _their_ charge that I -am this day wrongfully condemned, but to the charge of those who, on -that witness table, have sworn my life away--perjurers procured for -money, whose exposure I leave to time, and whose punishment to God. -Knowing that although my body shall ignominiously perish, and though my -fame be tarnished for an hour, yet shall truth and years, with -irresistible power, bring my innocence to light--rescue my character -and restore the name I bear. He who stands in the shadow of death, as I -do, has little to fear in human censure, and little to gather from the -applause of men. My life is forfeited, and I must soon go into the -presence of my Creator, to receive my everlasting doom; and in presence -of that almighty and terrible God before whom I must soon stand, and as -I look for mercy when He shall judge me, I declare, that of this crime, -of which I am pronounced guilty, I am altogether innocent. I am a -victim of a conspiracy, the motives of which my defence hath truly -showed you. I never committed the crime for which I am to suffer. I -repeat that I am innocent, and in witness of the truth of what I say, I -appeal to my Maker and my Judge, the Eternal and Almighty God." - -Having thus spoken, Ashwoode received his sentence, and was forthwith -removed to the condemned cell. - -Ashwoode had many and influential friends, and it required but a small -exercise of their good offices to procure a reprieve. He would not -suffer himself to despond--no, nor for one moment to doubt his final -escape from the fangs of justice. He was first reprieved for a -fortnight, and before that term expired again for six weeks. In the -course of the latter term, however, an event occurred which fearfully -altered his chances of escape, and filled his mind with the justest and -most dreadful apprehensions. This was the recall of Wharton from the -viceroyalty of Ireland. - -The new lord-lieutenant could not see, in the case of the young Whig -baronet, the same extenuating circumstances which had wrought so -effectually upon his predecessor, Wharton. The judge who had tried the -case refused to recommend the prisoner to the mercy of the Crown; and -the viceroy accordingly, in his turn, refused to entertain any -application for the commutation or further suspension of his sentence; -and now, for the first time, Sir Henry Ashwoode felt the tremendous -reality of his situation. The term for which he was reprieved had -nearly expired, and he felt that the hours which separated him from the -deadly offices of the hangman were numbered. Still, in this dreadful -consciousness, there mingled some faint and flickering ray of hope--by -its uncertain mockery rendering the terrors of his situation but the -more intolerable, and by the sleepless agonies of suspense, unnerving -the resolution which he might have otherwise summoned to his aid. - - - - -CHAPTER LXX. - -THE BARONET'S ROOM. - - -Desperately wounded, O'Connor lay between life and death for many weeks -in the dim and secluded apartment whither O'Hanlon had borne him after -his combat with Sir Henry Ashwoode. There, fearing lest his own -encounter with Wharton, and its startling result, should mark them for -pursuit and search, he placed O'Connor under the charge of trusty -creatures of his own--for some time not daring to visit him except -under cover of the night. This alarm, however, soon subsided; and -consequently less precaution was adopted. O'Connor's wounds were, as we -have said, most dangerous, and for fully two months he lay upon the -fiery couch of fever, alternately raving in delirium, and locked in the -dull stupor of entire apathy and exhaustion. Through this season of -pain and peril he was sustained, however, by the energies of a young -and vigorous constitution. The fever, at length, abated, and the -unclouded light of reason returned; still, however, in body he was -weak, so weak that, sorely against his will, he was perforce obliged to -continue the occupant of his narrow bed, in the dingy and secluded -lodgings in which he lay. Impatient to learn something of her who -entirely filled his thoughts, and of the truth of whose love for him he -now felt the revival of more than hope, he chafed and fretted in the -narrow limits of his dark and gloomy chamber. Spite of all the -remonstrances of the old crone who attended him, backed by the more -awful fulminations of his apothecary, O'Connor would not submit any -longer to the confinement of his bed; and, but for the firm and -effectual resistance of O'Hanlon, would have succeeded, weak as he was, -in making his escape from the house, and resuming his ordinary -occupations and pursuits, as though his health had not suffered, nor -his strength become impaired, so as to leave him scarcely the power of -walking a hundred steps, without the extremest exhaustion and -lassitude. To O'Hanlon's expostulations he was forced to yield, and -even pledged his word to him not to attempt a removal from his hated -lodgings, without his consent and approbation. In reply to a message to -his friend Audley, he learned, much to his mortification, that that -gentleman had left town, and as thus full of disquiet and anxiety, one -day O'Connor was seated, pale and languid, in his usual place by the -window, the door of his apartment opened, and O'Hanlon entered. He took -the hand of the invalid and said,-- - -"I commend your patience, young man, you have been my _parole_ prisoner -for many days. When is this durance to end?" - -"I'faith, I believe with my life," rejoined O'Connor, "I never knew -before what weariness and vexation in perfection are--this dusky room -is hateful to me, it grows narrower and narrower every day--and those -old houses opposite--every pane of glass in their windows, and every -brick in their walls I have learned by rote--I am tired to death. But, -seriously, I have other and very different reasons for wishing to be at -liberty again--reasons so urgent as to leave me no rest by night or -day. I chafe and fret here like a caged bird. I have been too long shut -up--my strength will never come again unless I am allowed to breathe -the fresh air--you are all literally killing me with kindness." - -"And yet," rejoined O'Hanlon, "I have never been thought an -over-careful leech, and truth to say, had I suffered you to have your -own way, you would not now have been a living man. I know, as well as -any of them, how to tend a wound, and this I will say, that in all my -practice it never yet has been my lot to meet with so ill-conditioned -and cross-grained a patient as yourself. Why, nothing short of -downright force has kept you in your room--your life is saved in spite -of yourself." - -"If you keep me here much longer," replied O'Connor, "it will prove but -indifferent economy as regards my bodily health, for I shall -undoubtedly cut my throat before another week." - -"There shall be no need, my friend, to find such an escape," replied -O'Hanlon, "for I now absolve you of your promise, hitherto so well -observed; nay, more, _I_ advise you to leave the house to-day. I think -your strength sufficient, and the occasion, moreover, demands that you -should visit an acquaintance immediately." - -"Who is it?" inquired O'Connor, starting to his feet with alacrity, -"thank God I am at length again my own master." - -"When I this day entered the yard of the 'Cock and Anchor'," answered -O'Hanlon, "the inn where you and I first encountered, I found a fellow -inquiring after you most earnestly; he had a letter with which he was -charged. It is from Sir Henry Ashwoode, who lies now in prison, and -under sentence of death. You start, and no wonder--his old associates -have convicted him of forgery." - -"Gracious Heaven, is it possible?" exclaimed O'Connor. - -"Nay, _certain_," continued O'Hanlon, "nor has he any longer a chance -of escape. He has been twice reprieved--but his friend Wharton is -recalled--his reprieve expires in three days' time, and then he will be -inevitably executed." - -"Good God, is this--can it be reality?" exclaimed O'Connor, trembling -with the violence of his agitation, "give me the letter." He broke the -seal, and read as follows:-- - - "EDMOND O'CONNOR,--I know I have wronged you sorely. I have - destroyed your peace and endangered your life. You are more than - avenged. I write this in the condemned cell of the gaol. If you can - bring yourself to confer with me for a few minutes, come here. I - stand on no ceremony, and time presses. Do not fail. If you be - living I shall expect you. - - "HENRY ASHWOODE." - -O'Connor's preparations were speedily made, and leaning upon the arm of -his elder friend, he, with slow and feeble steps, and a head giddy with -his long confinement, and the agitating anticipation of the scene in -which he was just about to be engaged, traversed the streets which -separated his lodging from the old city gaol--a sombre, stern, and -melancholy-looking building, surrounded by crowded and dilapidated -houses, with decayed plaster and patched windows, and a certain -desolate and sickly aspect, as though scared and blasted by the -contagious proximity of that dark receptacle of crime and desperation -which loomed above them. At the gate O'Hanlon parted from him, -appointing to meet him again in the "Cock and Anchor," whither he -repaired. After some questions, O'Connor was admitted. The clanging of -bolts, and bars, and door-chains, smote heavily on his heart--he heard -no other sounds but these and the echoing tread of their own feet, as -they traversed the long, dark, stone-paved passages which led to the -dungeon in which he whom he had last seen in the pride of fashion, and -youth, and strength, was now a condemned felon, and within a few hours -of a public and ignominious death. The turnkey paused at one of the -narrow doors opening from the dusky corridor, and unclosing it, said,-- - -"A gentleman, sir, to see you." - -"Request him to come in," replied a voice, which, though feebler than -it used to be, O'Connor had no difficulty in recognizing. In compliance -with this invitation, he with a throbbing heart entered the -prison-room. It was dimly lighted by a single small window set high in -the wall, and darkened by iron bars. A small deal table, with a few -books carelessly laid upon it, occupied the centre of the cell, and two -heavy stools were placed beside it, on one of which was seated a -figure, with his back to the light, to conceal, with a desperate -tenacity of pride, the ravages which the terrific mental fever of weeks -had wrought in his once bold and handsome face. By the wall was -stretched a wretched pallet; and upon the plaster were written and -scratched, according to the various moods of the miserable and guilty -tenants of the place, a hundred records, some of slang philosophy, some -of desperate drunken defiance, and some again of terror, but all -bearing reference to the dreadful scene to which this was but the -ante-chamber and the passage. Many hieroglyphical emblems of -unmistakable significance had also been traced upon the walls by the -successive occupants of the place, such as coffins, gallows-trees, -skulls and cross-bones; the most striking among which symbols was a -large figure of death upon a horse, sketched with much spirit, by some -moralizing convict, with a piece of burned stick, and to which some -waggish successor had appropriately added, in red chalk, a gigantic -pair of spurs. As soon as O'Connor entered, the turnkey closed the -door, and he and Sir Henry Ashwoode were left alone. A silence of some -minutes, which neither party dared to break, ensued. - - - - -CHAPTER LXXI. - -THE FAREWELL. - - -O'Connor was the first to speak. In a low voice, which trembled with -agitation, he said,-- - -"Sir Henry Ashwoode, I have come here in answer to a note which reached -me but a few minutes since. You desired a conference with me; is there -any commission with which you would wish to charge me?--if so, let me -know it, and it shall be done." - -"None, none, Mr. O'Connor, thank you," rejoined Ashwoode, recovering -his characteristic self-possession, and continuing proudly, "if you add -to your visit a patient audience of a few minutes, you will have -conferred upon me the only favour I desire. Pray, sit down; it is -rather a hard and a homely seat," he added, with a haggard, joyless -smile--"but the only one this place supplies." - -Another silence followed, during which Sir Henry Ashwoode restlessly -shifted his attitude every moment, in evident and uncontrollable -nervous excitement. At length he arose, and walked twice or thrice up -and down the narrow chamber, exhibiting without any longer care for -concealment his pale, wasted face in the full light which streamed in -through the grated window, his sunken eyes and unshorn chin, and worn -and attenuated figure. - -"You hear that sound," said he, abruptly stopping short, and looking -with the same strange smile upon O'Connor; "the clank upon the flags as -I walk up and down--the jingle of the fetters--isn't it strange--isn't -it odd--like a dream--eh?" - -Another silence followed, which Ashwoode again abruptly interrupted. - -"You know all this story?--of course you do--everybody does--how the -wretches have trapped me--isn't it terrible--isn't it dreadful? Oh! you -cannot know what it is to mope about this place alone, when it is -growing dark, as I do every evening, and in the night time. If I had -been another man, I'd have been raving mad by this time. I said -_alone_--did I?" he continued, with increasing excitement; "oh! that it -were!--oh! that it were! He comes there--_there_," he screamed, pointing -to the foot of the bed, "with all those infernal cloths and fringes -about his face, morning and evening. Ah, God! such a thing--half idiot, -half fiend; and still the same, though I curse him till I'm hoarse, he -won't leave it. Can't they wait--can't they wait? for-ever is a long -day. As I'm a living man, he's with me every night--there--there is the -body, gaping and nodding--_there_--_there_--_there_!" - -As he shouted this with frantic and despairing horror, shaking his -clenched hands toward the place of his dreaded nightly visitant, -O'Connor felt a thrill of horror such as he had never known before, and -hardly recovered from this painful feeling, when Sir Henry Ashwoode -turned to the little table on which, among many things, a vessel of -water was placed, and filling some out into a cracked cup, he added to -it drops from a phial, and hastily swallowed the mixture. - -"Laudanum is all the philosophy or religion I can boast; it's well to -have even so much," said he, returning the bottle to his pocket. "It's -a dead secret, though, that I have got any; this is a present from the -doctor they allow me to see, and I'm on honour not--to poison -myself--isn't it comical?--for fear he should get into a scrape; but -I've another game to play--no fear of that--no, no." - -Another silence followed, and Sir Henry Ashwoode said quickly,-- - -"What do the people say about it? Do they think I forged that accursed -bond? Do they think me guilty?" - -O'Connor declared his entire ignorance of public rumour, alleging his -own illness, and consequent close confinement, as the cause of it. - -"They sha'n't believe me guilty, no, they sha'n't. Look ye, sir, I have -one good feeling left," he resumed, vehemently; "I will not let my name -suffer. If the most resolute firmness to the very last, and the most -solemn renunciation of the charges preferred against me, reiterated at -the foot of the gallows, with the halter about my neck--if these can -beget a belief of my innocence, my name shall be clear--my name shall -not suffer; this last outrage I will avert; but oh, my God! is there no -chance yet--must I--_must_ I perish? Will no one save me--will no one -help me? Oh, God! oh, God! is there no pity--no succour; must it come?" - -Thus crying, he threw himself forward upon the table, while every joint -and muscle quivered and heaved with fierce hysterical sobs which, more -like a succession of short convulsive shrieks than actual weeping, -betrayed his agony, while O'Connor looked on with a mixture of horror -and pity, which all that was past could not suppress. - -At length the paroxysm subsided. The wretched man filled out some more -water, and mingling some drops of laudanum in it, he drank it off, and -became comparatively composed. - -"Not a word of this to any living being, I charge you," said he, -clutching O'Connor's arm in his attenuated hand, and fixing his sunken -fiery eyes upon his; "I would not have my folly known; I'm not always -so weak as you have seen me. It _must_ be, that's all--no help for it. -It's rather a novel thing, though, to hang a baronet--ha! ha! You look -scared--you think my wits are unsettled; but you're wrong. I don't -sleep; I hav'n't for some time; and want of rest, you know, makes a -man's manner odd; makes him excitable--nervous. I'm more myself now." - -After a short pause, Sir Henry Ashwoode resumed,-- - -"When we had that affray together, in which would to God you had run me -through the heart, you put a question to me about my sister--poor Mary; -I will answer that now, and more than answer it. That girl loves you -with her whole heart; loves you alone; never loved another. It matters -not to tell how I and my father--the great and accursed first cause of -all our misfortunes and miseries--effected your estrangement. The -Italian miscreant told you truth. The girl is gone I know not whither, -to seek an asylum from me--ay, from _me_. To save my life and honour. I -would have constrained her to marry the wretch who has destroyed me. It -was he--_he_ who urged it, who cajoled me. I joined him, to save my -life and honour! and now--oh! God, where are they?" - -O'Connor rose, and said somewhat sternly,-- - -"May God pardon you, Sir Henry Ashwoode, for all you have done against -the peace of that most noble and generous being, your sister. What I -have suffered at your hands I heartily forgive." - -"I ask forgiveness nowhere," rejoined Ashwoode, stoically; "what's done -is done. It has been a wild and fitful life, and is now over. What -forgiveness can you give me or she that's worth a thought?--folly, -folly!" - -"One word of earnest hope before I leave you; one word of solemn -warning," said O'Connor; "the vanities of this world are fading fast -and for ever from your view; you are going where the applause of men -can reach you no more! I conjure you, then, for the sake of your -eternal peace, if your sentence be a just one, do not insult your -Creator by denying your guilt, and pass into His awful presence with a -lie upon your lips." - -Ashwoode paused for a moment, and then walked suddenly up to O'Connor, -and almost in a whisper said,-- - -"Not a word of that, my course is chosen; not one word more. Observe, -what has passed between us is private; now leave me." So saying, -Ashwoode turned from him, and walked toward the narrow window of his -cell. - -"Farewell, Sir Henry Ashwoode, farewell for ever; and may God have -mercy upon you," said O'Connor, passing out upon the dark and narrow -corridor. - -The turnkey closed the door with a heavy crash upon his prisoner, and -locked it once more, and thus the two young men, who had so often and -so variously encountered in the unequal path of life, were parted never -again to meet in the wayward scenes of this chequered and changeful -existence. Tired and agitated, O'Connor threw himself into the first -coach he met, and was deposited safely in the "Cock and Anchor." It -were vain to attempt to describe the ecstasies and transports of honest -Larry Toole at the unexpected recovery of his long-lost master; we -shall not attempt to do so. It is enough for our purpose to state that -at the "Cock and Anchor" O'Connor received two letters from his old -friend, Mr. Audley, and one conveying a pressing invitation from Oliver -French of Ardgillagh, in compliance with which, early on the next -morning, he mounted his horse, and set forth, followed by his trusty -squire, upon the high road to Naas, resolved to task his strength to -the uttermost, although he knew that even thus he must necessarily -divide his journey into many more stages than his impatience would have -allowed, had more rapid travelling in his weak condition been possible. - - - - -CHAPTER LXXII. - -THE ROPE AND THE RIOT IN GALLOWS GREEN--AND THE WOODS OF ARDGILLAGH BY -MOONLIGHT. - - -At length came that day, that dreadful day, whose evening Sir Henry -Ashwoode was never to see. Noon was the time fixed for the fatal -ceremonial; and long before that hour, the mob, in one dense mass of -thousands, had thronged and choked the streets leading to the old gaol. -Upon this awful day the wretched man acquired, by a strange revulsion, -a kind of stoical composure, which sustained him throughout the -dreadful preparations. With hands cold as clay, and a face white as -ashes, and from which every vestige of animation had vanished, he -proceeded, nevertheless, with a calm and collected demeanour to make -all his predetermined arrangements for the fearful scene. With a minute -elaborateness he finished his toilet, and dressed himself in a grave, -but particularly handsome suit. Could this shrunken, torpid, ghastly -spectre, in reality be the same creature who, a few months since, was -the admiration and envy of half the beaux of Dublin? - -There was little or none of the fitful excitability about him which had -heretofore marked his demeanour during his confinement; on the -contrary, a kind of stupor and apathy had supervened, partly occasioned -by the laudanum which he had taken in unusually large quantities, and -partly by the overwhelming horror of his situation. He seemed to -observe and hear nothing. When the gaoler entered to remove his irons, -shortly before the time of his removal had arrived, he seemed a little -startled, and observing the physician who had attended him among those -who stood at the door of his cell, he beckoned him toward him. - -"Doctor, doctor," said he in a dusky voice, "how much laudanum may I -safely take? I want my head clear to say a few words, to speak to the -people. Don't give me too much; but let me, with that condition, have -whatever I can safely swallow. You know--you understand me; don't -oblige me to speak any more just now." - -The physician felt his pulse, and looked in his face, and then mingled -a little laudanum and water, which he applied to the young man's pale, -dry lips. This dose was hardly swallowed, when one of the gaol -officials entered, and stated that the ordinary was anxious to know -whether the prisoner wished to pray or confer with him in private -before his departure. The question had to be twice repeated ere it -reached Sir Henry. He replied, however, quickly, and in a low tone,-- - -"No, no, not for the world. I can't bear it; don't disturb me--don't, -don't." - -It was now intimated to the prisoner that he must proceed. His arms -were pinioned, and he was conducted along the passages leading to the -entrance of the gaol, where he was received by the sheriff. For a -moment, as he passed out into the broad light and the keen fresh air, -he beheld the vast and eager mob pressing and heaving like a great dark -sea around him, and the mounted escort of dragoons with drawn swords -and gay uniforms; and without attaching any clear or definite meaning -to the spectacle, he beheld the plumes of a hearse, and two or three -fellows engaged in sliding the long black coffin into its place. These -sights, and the strange, gaping faces of the crowd, and the sheriff's -carriage, and the gay liveries, and the crowded fronts and roofs of the -crazy old houses opposite, for one moment danced like the fragment of a -dream across his vision, and in the next he sat in the old-fashioned -coach which was to convey him to the place of execution. - -"Only twenty-seven years, only twenty-seven years, only twenty-seven -years," he muttered, vacantly and mechanically repeating the words -which had reached his ear from those who were curiously reading the -plate upon the coffin as he entered the coach--"only twenty-seven, -twenty-seven." - -The awful procession moved on to the place of its final destination; -the enormous mob rushing along with it--crowding, jostling, swearing, -laughing, whistling, quarrelling, and hustling, as they forced their -way onward, and staring with coarse and eager curiosity whenever they -could into the vehicle in which Ashwoode sat. All the sights--the -haggard, smirched, and eager faces, the prancing horses of the -troopers, the well-known shops and streets, and the crowded -windows--all sailed by his eyes like some unintelligible and -heart-sickening dream. The place of public execution for criminals was -then, and continued to be for long after, a spot significantly -denominated "Gallows Hill," situated in the neighbourhood of St. -Stephen's Green, and not far from the line at present traversed by -Baggot Street. There a permanent gallows was erected, and thither, at -length, amid thousands of crowding spectators, the melancholy -procession came, and proceeded to the centre of area, where the gallows -stood, with the long new rope swinging in the wind, and the cart and -the hangman, with the guard of soldiers, prepared for their reception. -The vehicles drew up, and those who had to play a part in the dreadful -scene descended. The guard took their place, preserving a narrow circle -around the fatal spot, free from the pressure of the crowd. The -carriages were driven a little away, and the coffin was placed close -under the gallows, while Ashwoode, leaning upon the chaplain and upon -one of the sheriffs, proceeded toward the cart, which made the rude -platform on which he was to stand. - -"Sir Henry Ashwoode," observes a contemporary authority, the _Dublin -Journal_, "showed a great deal of calmness and dignity, insomuch that a -great many of the mob, especially among the women, were weeping. His -figure and features were handsome, and he was finely dressed. He prayed -a short time with the ordinary, and then, with little assistance, -mounted the hurdle, whence he spoke to the people, declaring his -innocence with great solemnity. Then the hangman loosened his cravat, -and opened his shirt at the neck, and Sir Henry turning to him, bid -him, as it was understood, to take a ring from his finger, for a token -of forgiveness, which he did, and then the man drew the cap over his -eyes; but he made a sign, and the hangman lifted it up again, and Sir -Henry, looking round at all the multitude, said again, three times, 'In -the presence of God Almighty, I stand here innocent;' and then, a -minute after, 'I forgive all my enemies, and I die innocent;' then he -spoke a word to the hangman, and the cap being pulled down, and the -rope quickly adjusted, the hurdle was moved away, and he swung off, the -people with one consent crying out the while. He struggled for a long -time, and very hard; and not for more than an hour was the body cut -down, and laid in the coffin. He was buried in the night-time. His last -dying words have begot among most people a great opinion of his -innocence, though the lawyers still hold to it that he was guilty. It -was said that Mr. Blarden, the prosecutor, was in a house in Stephen's -Green, to see the hanging, and as soon as the mob heard it, they went -and broke the windows, and, but for the soldiers, would have forced -their way in, and done more violence." - -Thus speaks the _Dublin Journal_, and the extract needs no addition -from us. - - -Gladly do we leave this hateful scene, and turn from the dreadful fate -of him whose follies and vices had wrought so much misery to others, -and ended in such fearful ignominy and destruction to himself. We leave -the smoky town, with all its fashion, vice, and villainy; its princely -equipages; its prodigals; its paupers; its great men and its -sycophants; its mountebanks and mendicants; its riches and its -wretchedness. We leave that old city of strange compounds, where the -sublime and the ridiculous, deep tragedies and most whimsical farces -are ever mingling--where magnificence and squalor rub shoulders day by -day, and beggars sit upon the steps of palaces. How much of what is -wonderful, wild, and awful, has not thy secret history known! How much -of the romance of human act and passion, vicissitude, joy and sorrow, -grandeur and despair, has there not lived, and moved, and perished, age -after age, under thy perennial curtain of solemn smoke! - -Far, far behind, we leave the sickly smoky town--and over the far blue -hills and wooded country--through rocky glens, and by sonorous streams, -and over broad undulating plains, and through the quiet villages, with -their humble thatched roofs from which curls up the light blue smoke -among the sheltering bushes and tall hedge-rows--through ever-changing -scenes of softest rural beauty, in day time and at even-tide, and by -the wan, misty moonlight, we follow the two travellers who ride toward -the old domain of Ardgillagh. - -The fourth day's journey brought them to the little village which -formed one of the boundaries of that old place. But, long ere they -reached it, the sun had gone down behind the distant hills, under his -dusky canopy of crimson clouds, and the pale moon had thrown its broad -light and shadows over the misty landscape. Under the soft splendour of -the moon, chequered by the moving shadows of the tall and ancient -trees, they rode into the humble village--no sound arose to greet them -but the desultory baying of the village dogs, and the soft sighing of -the light breeze through the spreading boughs--and no signal of waking -life was seen, except, few and far between, the red level beam of some -still glowing turf fire, shining through the rude and narrow aperture -that served the simple rustic instead of casement. - -At one of these humble dwellings Larry Toole applied for information, -and with ready courtesy the "man of the house," in person, walked with -them to the entrance of the place, and shoved open one of the valves of -the crazy old gate, and O'Connor rode slowly in, following, with his -best caution, the directions of his guide. His honest squire, Larry, -meanwhile, loitered a little behind, in conference with the courteous -peasant, and with the laudable intention of procuring some trifling -refection, which, however, he determined to swallow without -dismounting, and with all convenient dispatch, bearing in mind a -wholesome remembrance of the disasters which followed his convivial -indulgence in the little town of Chapelizod. While Larry thus loitered, -O'Connor followed the wild winding avenue which formed the only -approach to the old mansion. This rude track led him a devious way over -slopes, and through hollows, and by the broad grey rocks, white as -sheeted phantoms in the moonlight, and the thick weeds and brushwood -glittering with the heavy dew of night, and through the beautiful misty -vistas of the ancient wild wood, now still and solemn as old cathedral -aisles. Thus, under the serene and cloudless light of the sailing moon, -he had reached the bank of the broad and shallow brook whose shadowy -nooks and gleaming eddies were canopied under the gnarled and arching -boughs of the hoary thorn and oak--and here tradition tells a -marvellous tale. - -It is narrated that when O'Connor reached this point, his jaded horse -stopped short, refusing to cross the stream, and when urged by voice -and spur, reared, snorted, and by every indication exhibited the -extremest terror and an obstinate reluctance to pass the brook. The -rider dismounted--took his steed by the head, patted and caressed him, -and by every art endeavoured to induce him to traverse the little -stream, but in vain; while thus fruitlessly employed, his attention was -arrested by the sounds of a female voice, in low and singularly sweet -and plaintive lamentation, and looking across the water, for the first -time he beheld the object which so affrighted his steed. It was a -female figure arrayed in a mantle of dusky red, the hood of which hung -forward so as to hide the face and head: she was seated upon a broad -grey rock by the brook's side, and her head leaned forward so as to -rest upon her knees; her bare arm hung by her side, and the white -fingers played listlessly in the clear waters of the brook, while with -a wild and piteous chaunt, which grew louder and clearer as he gazed, -she still sang on her strange mournful song. Spellbound and entranced, -he knew not why, O'Connor gazed on in speechless and breathless awe, -until at length the tall form arose and disappeared among the old -trees, and the sounds melted away and were lost among the soft chiming -of the brook, and heard no more. He dared not say whether it was -reality or illusion, he felt like one suddenly recalled from a dream, -and a certain awe, and horror, and dismay still hung upon him, for -which he scarcely could account. - -Without further resistance, the horse now crossed the brook; O'Connor -remounted, and followed the shadowy track; but again he was destined to -meet with interruption; the pathway which he followed, embowered among -the branching trees and bushes, at one point wound beneath a low, -ivy-mantled rock; he was turning this point, when his horse, snorting -loudly, checked his pace with a recoil so sudden that he threw himself -back upon his haunches, and remained, except for his violent trembling, -fixed and motionless. O'Connor raised his eyes, and standing upon the -rock which overhung the avenue, he beheld, for a moment, a tall female -form clothed in an ample cloak of dusky red. The arms with the hands -clasped, as if in the extremity of woe, firmly together, were extended -above her head, the face white as the foam of the river, and the eyes -preternaturally large and wild, were raised fixedly toward the broad -bright moon; this phantom, for such it was, for a moment occupied his -gaze, and in the next, with a scream so piercing and appalling that his -very marrow seemed to freeze at the sound, she threw herself forward as -though she would cast herself upon the horse and rider--and, was gone. - - [Illustration: "His horse, snorting loudly, checked his pace." - _To face page 354._] - -The horse started wildly off and galloped at headlong speed up the -broken ascent, and for some time O'Connor had not collectedness to -check his frantic course, or even to think; at length, however, he -succeeded in calming the terrified animal--and, uttering a fervent -prayer, he proceeded, without further adventure, till the tall gable of -the old mansion in the spectral light of the moon among its thick -embowering trees and rich ivy-mantles, with all its tall white chimney -stacks and narrow windows with their thousand glittering panes, arose -before his anxious gaze. - - - - -CHAPTER LXXIII. - -THE LAST LOOK. - - -Time had flowed on smoothly in the quiet old place, with an even -current unbroken and unmarred, except by one event. Sir Henry -Ashwoode's danger was known to old French and Mr. Audley; but with -anxious and effectual care they kept all knowledge of his peril and -disgrace from poor Mary: this pang was spared her. The months that -passed had wrought in her a change so great and so melancholy, that -none could look upon her without sorrowful forebodings, without -misgivings against which they vainly strove. Sore grief had done its -worst: the light and graceful step grew languid and feeble--the young -face wan and wasted--the beautiful eyes grew dim; and now in her sad -and early decline, as in other times, when her smile was sunshine, and -her very step light music, was still with her the same warm and gentle -spirit; and even amid the waste and desolation of decay, still -prevailed the ineffaceable lines of that matchless and touching beauty, -which in other times had wrought such magic. - -It was upon that day, the night of which saw O'Connor's long-deferred -arrival at Ardgillagh, that Flora Guy, vainly striving to restrain her -tears, knocked at Mr. Audley's chamber door. The old gentleman quickly -answered the summons. - -"Ah, sir," said the girl, "she's very bad, sir, if you wish to see her, -come at once." - -"I _do_, indeed, wish to see her, the dear child," said he, while the -tears started to his eyes; "bring me to the room." - -He followed the kind girl to the door, and she first went in, and in a -low voice told her that Mr. Audley wished much to see her, and she, -with her own sweet, sad smile, bade her bring him to her bedside. - -Twice the old man essayed to enter, and twice he stayed to weep -bitterly as a child. At length he commanded composure enough to enter, -and stood by the bedside, and silently and reverently held the hand of -her that was dying. - -"My dear child! my darling!" said he, vainly striving to suppress his -sobs, while the tears fell fast upon the thin small hand he held in -his--"I have sought this interview, to tell you what I would fain have -told you often before now but knew not how to speak of it, I want to -speak to you of one who loved you, and loves you still, as mortal has -seldom loved; of--of my good young friend O'Connor." - -As he said this, he saw, or was it fancy, the faintest flush imaginable -for one moment tinge her pale cheek. He had touched a chord to which -the pulses of her heart, until they had ceased to beat, must tremble; -and silently and slow the tears gathered upon her long dark lashes, and -followed one another down her wan face, unheeded. Thus she listened -while he related how truly O'Connor had loved her, and when the tale -was ended she wept on long and silently. - -"Flora," she said at length, "cut off a lock of my hair." - -The girl did as she was desired, and in her thin and feeble hand her -young mistress took it. - -"Whenever you see him, sir," said she, "will you give him this, and say -that I sent it for a token that to the last I loved him, and to help -him to remember me when I am gone: this is my last message--and poor -Flora, won't you take care of her?" - -"Won't I, won't I!" sobbed the old man, vehemently. "While I have a -shilling in the world she shall never know want--faithful creature"--and -he grasped the honest girl's hand, and shook it, and sobbed and wept -like a child. - -He took the long dark ringlet, which he had promised to give to -O'Connor; and seeing that his presence agitated her, he took a long -last look at the young face he was never more to see in life, and -kissing the small hand again and again, he turned and went out, crying -bitterly. - -Soon after this she grew much fainter, and twice or thrice she spoke as -though her mind was busy with other scenes. - -"Let us go down to the well side," she said, "the primroses and -cowslips are always there the earliest;" and then she said again, "He's -coming, Flora; he'll be here very soon, so come and dress my hair; he -likes to see my hair dressed with flowers--wild flowers." - -Shortly after this she sank into a soft and gentle sleep, and while she -lay thus calmly, there came over her pale face a smile of such a pure -and heavenly light, that angelic hope, and peace, and glory, shone in -its beauty. The smile changed not; but she was dead! The sorrowful -struggle was over--the weary bosom was at rest--the true and gentle -heart was cold for ever--the brief but sorrowful trial was over--the -desolate mourner was gone to the land where the pangs of grief, the -tumults of passion, regrets, and cold neglect are felt no more. - -Her favourite bird, with gay wings, flutters to the casement; the -flowers she planted are sweet upon the evening air; and by their -hearths the poor still talk of her and bless her; but the silvery voice -that spoke, and the gentle hand that tended, and the beautiful smile -that gave an angelic grace to the offices of charity, where are they? - - -The tapers are lighted in the silent chamber, and Flora Guy has laid -early spring flowers on the still cold form that sleeps there in its -serene sad beauty tranquilly and for ever; when in the court-yard are -heard the tramp and clatter of a horse's hoofs--it is he--O'Connor,--he -comes for her--the long lost--the dearly loved--the true-hearted--the -found again. - -'Twere vain to tell of frantic grief--words cannot tell, nor -imagination conceive, the depth--the wildness--the desolation of that -woe. - - - - -CONCLUSION. - - -Some fifteen years ago there was still to be seen in the little ruined -church which occupies a corner in what yet remains of the once -magnificent domain of Ardgillagh, side by side among the tangled weeds, -two gravestones; one recording the death of Mary Ashwoode, at the early -age of twenty-two, in the year of grace 1710; the other, that of Edmond -O'Connor, who fell at Denain, in the year of our Lord 1712. Thus they -were, who in life were separated, laid side by side in death. It is a -still and sequestered spot, and the little ruin clothed in rich ivy, -and sheltered by the great old trees with its solemn and holy quiet, in -such a resting-place as most mortals would fain repose in when their -race is done. - -For the rest our task is quickly done. Mr. Audley and Oliver French had -so much gotten into one another's way of going on, that the former -gentleman from week to week, and from month to month, continued to -prolong his visit, until after a residence of eight years, he died at -length in the mansion of Ardgillagh, at a very advanced age, and -without more than two days' illness, having never experienced before, -in all his life, one hour's sickness of any kind. Honest Oliver French -outlived his boon companion by the space of two years, having just -eaten an omelette and actually called for some woodcock-pie; he -departed suddenly while the servant was raising the crust. Old Audley -left Flora Guy well provided for at his death, but somehow or other -considerably before that event Larry Toole succeeded in prevailing on -the honest handmaiden to marry him, and although, questionless, there -was some disparity in point of years, yet tradition says, and we -believe it, that there never lived a fonder or a happier couple, and it -is a genealogical fact, that half the Tooles who are now to be found in -that quarter of the country, derive their descent from the very -alliance in question. - -Of Major O'Leary we have only to say that the rumour which hinted at -his having united his fortunes with those of the house of Rumble, were -but too well founded. He retired with his buxom bride to a small -property, remote from the dissipation of the capital, and except in the -matter of an occasional cock-fight, whenever it happened to be within -reach, or a tough encounter with the squire, when a new pipe of claret -was to be tasted, one or two occasional indiscretions, he became, as he -himself declared, in all respects an ornament to society. - -Lady Stukely, within a few months after the explosion with young -Ashwoode, vented her indignation by actually marrying young -Pigwiggynne. It was said, indeed, that they were not happy; of this, -however, we cannot be sure; but it is undoubtedly certain that they -used to beat, scratch, and pinch each other in private--whether in play -merely, or with the serious intention of correcting one another's -infirmities of temper, we know not. Several weeks before Lady Stukely's -marriage, Emily Copland succeeded in her long-cherished schemes against -the celibacy of poor Lord Aspenly. His lordship, however, lived on with -a perseverance perfectly spiteful, and his lady, alas and alack-a-day, -tired out, at length committed a _faux pas_--the trial is on record, -and eventuated, it is sufficient to say, in a verdict for the -plaintiff. - -Of Chancey, we have only to say that his fate was as miserable as his -life had been abject and guilty. When he arose after the tremendous -fall which he had received at the hands of his employer, Nicholas -Blarden, upon the memorable night which defeated all their schemes, for -he _did_ arise with life--intellect and remembrance were alike -quenched--he was thenceforward a drivelling idiot. Though none cared to -inquire into the cause and circumstances of his miserable privation, -long was he well known and pointed out in the streets of Dublin, where -he subsisted upon the scanty alms of superstitious charity, until at -length, during the great frost in the year 1739, he was found dead one -morning, in a corner under St. Audoen's Arch, stark and cold, cowering -in his accustomed attitude. - -Nicholas Blarden died upon his feather bed, and if every luxury which -imagination can devise, or prodigal wealth procure, can avail to soothe -the racking torments of the body, and the terrors of the appalled -spirit, he died happy. - -Of the other actors in this drama--with the exception of M'Quirk, who -was publicly whipped for stealing four pounds of sausages from an eating -house in Bride Street, and the Italian, who, we believe, was seen as -groom-porter in Mr. Blarden's hell, for many years after--tradition is -silent. - - - [Illustration: The End.] - - -GILBERT AND RIVINGTON, LD., ST. JOHN'S HOUSE, CLERKENWELL. - - - - - - -End of Project Gutenberg's The Cock and Anchor, by Joseph Sheridan Le Fanu - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE COCK AND ANCHOR *** - -***** This file should be named 40126.txt or 40126.zip ***** -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: - http://www.gutenberg.org/4/0/1/2/40126/ - -Produced by Suzanne Shell and the Online Distributed -Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was -produced from images generously made available by The -Internet Archive/Canadian Libraries) - - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions -will be renamed. - -Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no -one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation -(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without -permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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Hart was the originator of the Project Gutenberg-tm -concept of a library of electronic works that could be freely shared -with anyone. For forty years, he produced and distributed Project -Gutenberg-tm eBooks with only a loose network of volunteer support. - -Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks are often created from several printed -editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the U.S. -unless a copyright notice is included. Thus, we do not necessarily -keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition. - -Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search facility: - - www.gutenberg.org - -This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm, -including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary -Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to -subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. diff --git a/40126.zip b/40126.zip Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index 2fe05ee..0000000 --- a/40126.zip +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/40126-8.txt b/old/40126-8.txt deleted file mode 100644 index e7f6554..0000000 --- a/old/40126-8.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,17837 +0,0 @@ -Project Gutenberg's The Cock and Anchor, by Joseph Sheridan Le Fanu - -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 Cock and Anchor - -Author: Joseph Sheridan Le Fanu - -Illustrator: Brinsley Le Fanu - -Release Date: July 2, 2012 [EBook #40126] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE COCK AND ANCHOR *** - - - - -Produced by Suzanne Shell and the Online Distributed -Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was -produced from images generously made available by The -Internet Archive/Canadian Libraries) - - - - - - - [Illustration: "'Farewell, my lord!' said Swift, abruptly." - _Frontispiece_.] - - -The Cock And Anchor - - -By - -Joseph Sheridan Le Fanu - - -Illustrated by -Brinsley Le Fanu - - -Downey & Co. -12 York St. -Covent Garden. - -(1895) - - - - -NOTE. - - -"THE COCK AND ANCHOR: a Chronicle of Old Dublin City," was first -published in Dublin in three volumes in 1845, with the joint imprints -of William Curry, Junior, & Co., Dublin; Longman, Brown, Green & -Longmans, London; and Fraser & Co., Edinburgh. There is no author's -name on the title-page of the original edition. The work has not since -been reprinted under the title of "The Cock and Anchor;" but some years -after its first appearance my father made several alterations (most of -which are adhered to in the present edition) in the story, and it was -re-issued in the Select Library of Fiction under the title of "Morley -Court." - -The novel has been out of print for a long period, and I have decided -to republish it now under its original and proper title. I have made -no changes in such dates as are mentioned here and there in the course -of the narrative, but the reader should bear in mind that this -"Chronicle of Old Dublin City" was written fifty years ago. - -BRINSLEY SHERIDAN LE FANU. - -_London, July, 1895._ - - - - -CONTENTS. - - -CHAPTER PAGE - - I.--THE "COCK AND ANCHOR" 1 - - II.--A BED IN THE "COCK AND ANCHOR" 6 - - III.--THE LITTLE MAN 10 - - IV.--A SCARLET HOOD 14 - - V.--O'CONNOR'S MOONLIGHT WALK 23 - - VI.--THE SOLDIER 28 - - VII.--THREE GRIM FIGURES 36 - - VIII.--THE WARNING 40 - - IX.--THE "BLEEDING HORSE" 44 - - X.--THE MASTER OF MORLEY COURT 51 - - XI.--THE OLD BEECH TREE WALK 62 - - XII.--THE APPOINTED HOUR 72 - - XIII.--THE INTERVIEW 75 - - XIV.--ABOUT A CERTAIN GARDEN AND A DAMSEL 83 - - XV.--THE TRAITOR 88 - - XVI.--SIGNOR PARUCCI ALONE 92 - - XVII.--DUBLIN CASTLE BY NIGHT 99 - - XVIII.--THE TWO COUSINS 106 - - XIX.--THE THEATRE 110 - - XX.--THE LODGING 116 - - XXI.--WHO APPEARED TO MARY ASHWOODE 122 - - XXII.--THE SPINET 125 - - XXIII.--THE DARK ROOM 131 - - XXIV.--A CRITIC 135 - - XXV.--THE COMBAT AND ITS ISSUE 140 - - XXVI.--THE HELL 143 - - XXVII.--THE DEPARTURE OF THE PEER 151 - - XXVIII.--THE THUNDER-STORM 154 - - XXIX.--THE CRONES 157 - - XXX.--SKY-COPPER COURT 163 - - XXXI.--THE USURER AND THE OAKEN BOX 168 - - XXXII.--THE DIABOLIC WHISPER 171 - - XXXIII.--HOW SIR HENRY ASHWOODE PLAYED AND PLOTTED 174 - - XXXIV.--THE "OLD ST. COLUMBKIL" 178 - - XXXV.--THE COUSIN AND THE BLACK CABINET 184 - - XXXVI.--JEWELS, PLATE, HORSES, DOGS 189 - - XXXVII.--THE RECKONING 191 - -XXXVIII.--STRANGE GUESTS AT THE MANOR 196 - - XXXIX.--THE BARGAIN 199 - - XL.--DREAMS 204 - - XLI.--A CERTAIN TRAVELLING ECCLESIASTIC 208 - - XLII.--THE SQUIRES 212 - - XLIII.--THE WILD WOOD 217 - - XLIV.--THE DOOM 222 - - XLV.--THE MAN IN THE CLOAK 226 - - XLVI.--THE DOUBLE CONFERENCE 231 - - XLVII.--THE "JOLLY BOWLERS" 236 - - XLVIII.--THE STAINED RUFFLES 241 - - XLIX.--OLD SONGS 246 - - L.--THE PRESS IN THE WALL 252 - - LI.--FLORA GUY 259 - - LII.--MARY ASHWOODE'S WALK 262 - - LIII.--THE DOUBLE FAREWELL 266 - - LIV.--THE TWO CHANCES 273 - - LV.--THE FEARFUL VISITANT 277 - - LVI.--EBENEZER SHYCOCK 280 - - LVII.--THE CHAPLAIN'S ARRIVAL AT MORLEY COURT 284 - - LVIII.--THE SIGNAL 290 - - LIX.--HASTE AND PERIL 296 - - LX.--THE UNTREASURED CHAMBER 299 - - LXI.--THE CART AND THE STRAW 302 - - LXII.--THE COUNCIL 308 - - LXIII.--PARTING 311 - - LXIV.--MISTRESS MARTHA AND BLACK M'GUINNESS 315 - - LXV.--THE CONFERENCE 319 - - LXVI.--THE BED-CHAMBER 322 - - LXVII.--THE EXPULSION 327 - - LXVIII.--THE FRAY 332 - - LXIX.--THE BOLTED WINDOW 337 - - LXX.--THE BARONET'S ROOM 341 - - LXXI.--THE FAREWELL 345 - - LXXII.--THE ROPE AND THE RIOT 349 - - LXXIII.--THE LAST LOOK 354 - - CONCLUSION 357 - - - - -LIST OF FULL PAGE ILLUSTRATIONS. - - -"Farewell, my lord," said Swift, abruptly _Frontispiece_ - -Threw himself luxuriously into a capacious - leather-bottomed chair _to face page_ 4 - -Again the conqueror crowed the shrill - note of victory " 34 - -Parucci approached the prostrate figure " 156 - -"Painted! varnished!" she screamed hysterically " 188 - -He made his way to the aperture " 223 - -Glide noiselessly behind Chancey " 293 - -Driven to bay ... he drew his sword " 338 - -His horse, snorting loudly, checked his pace " 354 - - - - -THE "COCK AND ANCHOR." - - - - -CHAPTER I. - -THE "COCK AND ANCHOR"--TWO HORSEMEN--AND A SUPPER BY THE INN FIRE. - - -Some time within the first ten years of the last century, there stood -in the fair city of Dublin, and in one of those sinuous and narrow -streets which lay in the immediate vicinity of the Castle, a goodly and -capacious hostelry, snug and sound, and withal carrying in its aspect -something staid and aristocratic, and perhaps in nowise the less -comfortable that it was rated, in point of fashion, somewhat obsolete. -Its structure was quaint and antique; so much so, that had its -counterpart presented itself within the precincts of "the Borough," it -might fairly have passed itself off for the genuine old Tabard of -Geoffry Chaucer. - -The front of the building, facing the street, rested upon a row of -massive wooden blocks, set endwise, at intervals of some six or eight -feet, and running parallel at about the same distance, to the wall of -the lower story of the house, thus forming a kind of rude cloister or -open corridor, running the whole length of the building. - -The spaces between these rude pillars were, by a light frame-work of -timber, converted into a succession of arches; and by an application of -the same ornamental process, the ceiling of this extended porch was -made to carry a clumsy but not unpicturesque imitation of groining. -Upon this open-work of timber, as we have already said, rested the -second story of the building; protruding beyond which again, and -supported upon beams whose projecting ends were carved into the -semblance of heads hideous as the fantastic monsters of heraldry, arose -the third story, presenting a series of tall and fancifully-shaped -gables, decorated, like the rest of the building, with an abundance of -grotesque timber-work. A wide passage, opening under the corridor which -we have described, gave admission into the inn-yard, surrounded partly -by the building itself, and partly by the stables and other offices -connected with it. Viewed from a little distance, the old fabric -presented by no means an unsightly or ungraceful aspect: on the -contrary, its very irregularities and antiquity, however in reality -objectionable, gave to it an air of comfort and almost of dignity to -which many of its more pretending and modern competitors might in vain -have aspired. Whether it was, that from the first the substantial -fabric had asserted a conscious superiority over all the minor -tenements which surrounded it, or that they in modest deference had -gradually conceded to it the prominence which it deserved--whether, in -short, it had always stood foremost, or that the street had slightly -altered its course and gradually receded, leaving it behind, an -immemorial and immovable landmark by which to measure the encroachments -of ages--certain it is, that at the time we speak of, the sturdy -hostelry stood many feet in advance of the line of houses which flanked -it on either side, narrowing the street with a most aristocratic -indifference to the comforts of the pedestrian public, thus forced to -shift for life and limb, as best they might, among the vehicles and -horses which then thronged the city streets--no doubt, too, often by -the very difficulties which it presented, entrapping the over-cautious -passenger, who preferred entering the harbour which its hospitable and -capacious doorway offered, to encountering all the perils involved in -doubling the point. - -Such as we have attempted to describe it, the old building stood more -than a century since; and when the level sunbeams at eventide glinted -brightly on its thousand miniature window panes, and upon the broad -hanging panel, which bore, in the brightest hues and richest gilding, -the portraiture of a Cock and Anchor; and when the warm, discoloured -glow of sunset touched the time-worn front of the old building with a -rich and cheery blush, even the most fastidious would have allowed that -the object was no unpleasing one. - -A dark autumnal night had closed over the old city of Dublin, and the -wind was blustering in hoarse gusts through the crowded -chimney-stacks--careening desolately through the dim streets, and -occasionally whirling some loose tile or fragment of plaster from the -house tops. The streets were silent and deserted, except when -occasionally traversed by some great man's carriage, thundering and -clattering along the broken pavement, and by its passing glare and -rattle making the succeeding darkness and silence but the more dreary. -None stirred abroad who could avoid it; and with the exception of such -rare interruptions as we have mentioned, the storm and darkness held -undisputed possession of the city. Upon this ungenial night, and -somewhat past the hour of ten, a well-mounted traveller rode into the -narrow and sheltered yard of the "Cock and Anchor;" and having bestowed -upon the groom who took the bridle of his steed such minute and anxious -directions as betokened a kind and knightly tenderness for the comforts -of his good beast, he forthwith entered the public room of the inn--a -large and comfortable chamber, having at the far end a huge hearth -overspanned by a broad and lofty mantelpiece of stone, and now sending -forth a warm and ruddy glow, which penetrated in genial streams to -every recess and corner of the room, tinging the dark wainscoting of -the walls, glinting red and brightly upon the burnished tankards and -flagons with which the cupboard was laden, and playing cheerily over -the massive beams which traversed the ceiling. Groups of men, variously -occupied and variously composed, embracing all the usual company of a -well frequented city tavern--from the staid and sober man of business, -who smokes his pipe in peace, to the loud disputatious, half-tipsy town -idler, who calls for more flagons than he can well reckon, and then -quarrels with mine host about the shot--were disposed, some singly, -others in social clusters, in cosy and luxurious ease at the stout oak -tables which occupied the expansive chamber. Among these the stranger -passed leisurely to a vacant table in the neighbourhood of the good -fire, and seating himself thereat, doffed his hat and cloak, thereby -exhibiting a finely proportioned and graceful figure, and a face of -singular nobleness and beauty. He might have seen some thirty -summers--perhaps less--but his dark and expressive features bore a -character of resolution and melancholy which seemed to tell of more -griefs and perils overpast than men so young in the world can generally -count. - -The new-comer, having thrown his hat and gloves upon the table at which -he had placed himself, stretched his stalwart limbs toward the fire in -the full enjoyment of its genial influence, and advancing the heels of -his huge jack boots nearly to the bars, he seemed for a time wholly -lost in the comfortable contemplation of the red embers which -flickered, glowed, and shifted before his eyes. From his quiet reverie -he was soon recalled by mine host in person, who, with all courtesy, -desired to know "whether his honour wished supper and a bed?" Both -questions were promptly answered in the affirmative: and before many -minutes the young horseman was deep in the discussion of a glorious -pasty, flanked by a flagon of claret, such as he had seldom tasted -before. He had scarcely concluded his meal, when another traveller, -cloaked, booted, and spurred, and carrying under his arm a pair of long -horse-pistols, and a heavy whip, entered the apartment, walked straight -up to the fire-place, and having obtained permission of the cavalier -already established there to take share of his table, he deposited -thereon the formidable weapons which he carried, cast his hat, gloves, -and cloak upon the floor, and threw himself luxuriously into a -capacious leather-bottomed chair which confronted the cheery fire. - - [Illustration: "Threw himself luxuriously into a capacious, - leather-bottomed chair." - _To face page 4._] - -"A bleak night, sir, and a dark, for a ride of twenty miles," observed -the stranger, addressing the younger guest. - -"I can the more readily agree with you, sir," replied the latter, -"seeing that I myself have ridden nigh forty, and am but just arrived." - -"Whew! that beats me hollow," cried the other, with a kind of -self-congratulatory shrug. "You see, sir, we never know how to thank -our stars for the luck we _have_ until we come to learn what luck we -might have had. I rode from Wicklow--pray, sir, if it be not too bold a -question, what line did you travel?" - -"The Cork road." - -"Ha! that's an ugly line they say to travel by night. You met with no -interruption?" - -"Troth, but I _did_, sir," replied the young man, "and none of the -pleasantest either. I was stopped, and put in no small peril, too." - -"How! stopped--stopped on the highway! By the mass, you outdo me in -every point! Would you, sir, please to favour me, if 'twere not too -much trouble, with the facts of the adventure--the particulars?" - -"Faith, sir," rejoined the young man, "as far as my knowledge serves -me, you are welcome to them all. When I was still about twelve miles -from this, I was joined from a by-road by a well mounted, and (as far -as I could discern) a respectable-looking traveller, who told me he -rode for Dublin, and asked to join company by the way. I assented; and -we jogged on pleasantly enough for some two or three miles. It was very -dark----" - -"As pitch," ejaculated the stranger, parenthetically. - -"And what little scope of vision I might have had," continued the -younger traveller, "was well nigh altogether obstructed by the constant -flapping of my cloak, blown by the storm over my face and eyes. I -suddenly became conscious that we had been joined by a third horseman, -who, in total silence, rode at my other side." - -"How and when did _he_ come up with you?" - -"I can't say," replied the narrator--"nor did his presence give me the -smallest uneasiness. He who had joined me first, all at once called out -that his stirrup strap was broken, and halloo'd to me to rein in until -he should repair the accident. This I had hardly done, when some -fellow, whom I had not seen, sprang from behind upon my horse, and -clasped my arms so tightly to my body, that so far from making use of -them, I could hardly breathe. The scoundrel who had dismounted caught -my horse by the head and held him firmly, while my hitherto silent -companion clapped a pistol to my ear." - -"The devil!" exclaimed the elder man, "that was checkmate with a -vengeance." - -"Why, in truth, so it turned out," rejoined his companion; "though I -confess my first impulse was to balk the gentlemen of the road at any -hazard; and with this view I plied my spurs rowel deep, but the rascal -who held the bridle was too old a hand to be shaken off by a plunge or -two. He swung with his whole weight to the bit, and literally brought -poor Rowley's nose within an inch of the road. Finding that resistance -was utterly vain, and not caring to squander what little brains I have -upon so paltry an adventure, I acknowledged the jurisdiction of the -gentleman's pistol, and replied to his questions." - -"You proved your sound sense by so doing," observed the other. "But -what was their purpose?" - -"As far as I could gather," replied the younger man, "they were upon -the look-out for some particular person, I cannot say whom; for, either -satisfied by my answers, or having otherwise discovered their mistake, -they released me without taking anything from me but my sword, which, -however, I regret much, for it was my father's; and having blown the -priming from my pistols, they wished me the best of good luck, and so -we parted, without the smallest desire on my part to renew the -intimacy. And now, sir, you know just as much of the matter as I do -myself." - -"And a very serious matter it is, too," observed the stranger, with an -emphatic nod. "Landlord! a pint of mulled claret--and spice it as I -taught you--d'ye mind? A very grave matter--do you think you could -possibly identify those men?" - -"Identify them! how the devil could I?--it was dark as pitch--a cat -could not have seen them." - -"But was there no mark--no peculiarity discernible, even in the dense -obscurity--nothing about any of them, such as you might know again?" - -"Nothing--the very outline was indistinct. I could merely pee that they -were shaped like men." - -"Truly, truly, that is much to be lamented," said the elder gentleman; -"though fifty to one," he added, devoutly, "they'll hang one day or -another--let that console us. Meantime, here comes the claret." - -So saying, the new-comer rose from his seat, coolly removed his black -matted peruke from his shorn head, and replaced it by a dark velvet -cap, which he drew from some mysterious nook in his breeches pocket; -then, hanging the wig upon the back of his chair, he wheeled the seat -round to the table, and for the first time offered to his companion an -opportunity of looking him fairly in the face. If he were a believer in -the influence of first impressions, he had certainly acted wisely in -deferring the exhibition until the acquaintance had made some progress, -for his countenance was, in sober truth, anything but attractive--a -pair of grizzled brows overshadowed eyes of quick and piercing black, -rather small, and unusually restless and vivid--the mouth was wide, and -the jaw so much underhung as to amount almost to a deformity, giving to -the lower part of the face a character of resolute ferocity which was -not at all softened by the keen fiery glance of his eye; a massive -projecting forehead, marked over the brow with a deep scar, and -furrowed by years and thought, added not a little to the stern and -commanding expression of the face. The complexion was swarthy; and -altogether the countenance was one of that sinister and unpleasant kind -which the imagination associates with scenes of cruelty and terror, and -which might appropriately take a prominent place in the foreground of a -feverish dream. The young traveller had seen too many ugly sights, in -the course of a roving life of danger and adventure, to remember for a -moment the impression which his new companion's visage was calculated -to produce. They chatted together freely; and the elder (who, by the -way, exhibited no very strong Irish peculiarities of accent or idiom, -any more than did the other) when he bid his companion good-night, left -him under the impression that, however forbidding his aspect might be, -his physical disadvantages were more than counterbalanced by the -shrewd, quick sagacity, correct judgment, and wide range of experience -of which he appeared possessed. - - - - -CHAPTER II. - -A BED IN THE "COCK AND ANCHOR"--A LANTERN AND AN UGLY VISITOR BY THE -BEDSIDE. - - -Leaving the public room to such as chose to push their revels beyond -the modesty of midnight, our young friend betook himself to his -chamber; where, snugly deposited in one of the snuggest beds which the -"Cock and Anchor" afforded, with the ample tapestry curtains drawn from -post to post, while the rude wind buffeted the casements and moaned -through the antique chimney-tops, he was soon locked in the deep, -dreamless slumber of fatigue. - -How long this sweet oblivion may have lasted it was not easy to say; -some hours, however, had no doubt intervened, when the sleeper was -startled from his repose by a noise at his chamber door. The latch was -raised, and someone bearing a shaded light entered the room and -cautiously closed the door again. In the belief that the intruder was -some guest or domestic of the inn who either mistook the room or was -not aware of its occupation, the young man coughed once or twice -slightly in token of his presence, and observing that his signal had -not the desired effect, he inquired rather sharply,-- - -"Who is there?" - -The only answer returned was a long "Hist!" and forthwith the steps of -the unseasonable visitor were directed to the bedside. The person thus -disturbed had hardly time to raise himself half upright when the -curtains at one side were drawn apart, and by the imperfect light which -forced its way through the horn enclosure of a lantern, he beheld the -bronzed and sinister features of his fireside companion of the previous -evening. The stranger was arrayed for the road, with his cloak and -cocked hat on. Both parties, the visited and the visitor, for a time -remained silent and in the same fixed attitude. - -"Pray, sir," at length inquired the person thus abruptly intruded upon, -"to what special good fortune do I owe this most unlooked-for visit?" - -The elder man made no reply; but deliberately planted the large dingy -lantern which he carried upon the bed in which the young man lay. - -"You have tarried somewhat too long over the wine-cup," continued he, -not a little provoked at the coolness of the intruder. "This, sir, is -not your chamber; seek it elsewhere. I am in no mood to bandy jests. -You will consult your own ease as well as mine by quitting this room -with all dispatch." - -"Young gentleman," replied the elder man in a low, firm tone, "I have -used short ceremony in disturbing you thus. To judge from your face you -are no less frank than hardy. You will not require apologies when you -have heard me. When I last night sate with you I observed about you a -token long since familiar to me as the light--you wear it on your -finger--it is a diamond ring. That ring belonged to a dear friend of -mine--an old comrade and a tried friend in a hundred griefs and perils: -the owner was Richard O'Connor. I have not heard from him for ten years -or more. Can you say how he fares?" - -"The brave soldier and good man you have named was my father," replied -the young man, mournfully. - -"_Was!_" repeated the stranger. "Is he then no more--is he dead?" - -"Even so," replied the young man, sadly. - -"I knew it--I felt it. When I saw that jewel last night something smote -at my heart and told me, that the hand that wore it once was cold. Ah, -me! it was a friendly and a brave hand. Through all the wars of King -James" (and so saying he touched his hat) "we were together, companions -in arms and bosom friends. He was a comely man and a strong; no -hardship tired him, no difficulty dismayed him; and the merriest fellow -he was that ever trod on Irish ground. Poor O'Connor! in exile; away, -far away from the country he loved so well; among foreigners too. Well, -well, wheresoever they have laid thee, there moulders not a truer nor a -braver heart in the fields of all the world!" - -He paused, sighed deeply, and then continued,-- - -"Sorely, sorely are thine old comrades put to it, day by day, and night -by night, for comfort and for safety--sorely vexed and pillaged. -Nevertheless--over-ridden, and despised, and scattered as we are, -mercenaries and beggars abroad, and landless at home--still something -whispers in my ear that there will come at last a retribution, and such -a one as will make this perjured, corrupt, and robbing ascendency a -warning and a wonder to all after times. Is it a common thing, think -you, that all the gentlemen, all the chivalry of a whole country--the -natural leaders and protectors of the people--should be stripped of -their birthright, ay, even of the poor privilege of seeing in this -their native country, strangers possessing the inheritances which are -in _all_ right their own; cast abroad upon the world; soldiers of -fortune, selling their blood for a bare subsistence; many of them dying -of want; and all because for honour and conscience sake they refused to -break the oath which bound them to a ruined prince? Is it a slight -thing, think you, to visit with pains and penalties such as these, men -guilty of no crimes beyond those of fidelity and honour?" - -The stranger said this with an intensity of passion, to which the low -tone in which he spoke but gave an additional impressiveness. After a -short pause he again spoke,-- - -"Young gentleman," said he, "you may have heard your father--whom the -saints receive!--speak, when talking over old recollections, of one -Captain O'Hanlon, who shared with him the most eventful scenes of a -perilous time. He may, I say, have spoken of such a one." - -"He has spoken of him," replied the young man; "often, and kindly too." - -"I am that man," continued the stranger; "your father's old friend and -comrade; and right glad am I, seeing that I can never hope to meet him -more on this side the grave, to renew, after a kind, a friendship which -I much prized, now in the person of his son. Give me your hand, young -gentleman: I pledge you mine in the spirit of a tried and faithful -friendship. I inquire not what has brought you to this unhappy country; -I am sure it can be nothing which lies not within the eye of honour, so -I ask not concerning it; but on the contrary, I will tell you of myself -what may surprise you--what will, at least, show that I am ready to -trust you freely. You were stopped to-night upon the Southern road, -some ten miles from this. It was _I_ who stopped you!" - -O'Connor made a sudden but involuntary movement of menace; but without -regarding it, O'Hanlon continued,-- - -"You are astonished, perhaps shocked--you look so; but mind you, there -is some difference between _stopping_ men on the highway, and _robbing_ -them when you have stopped them. I took you for one who we were -informed would pass that way, and about the same hour--one who carried -letters from a pretended friend--one whom I have long suspected, a -half-faced, cold-hearted friend--carried letters, I say, from such a -one to the Castle here; to that malignant, perjured reprobate and -apostate, the so-called Lord Wharton--as meet an ornament for a gibbet -as ever yet made a feast for the ravens. I was mistaken: here is your -sword; and may you long wear it as well as he from whom it was -inherited." Here he raised the weapon, the blade of which he held in -his hand, and the young man saw it and the hilt flash and glitter in -the dusky light. "And take the advice of an old soldier, young friend," -continued O'Hanlon, "and when you are next, which I hope may not be for -many a long day, overpowered by odds and at their mercy, do not by -fruitless violence tempt them to disable you by a simpler and less -pleasant process than that of merely taking your sword and unpriming -your pistols. Many a good man has thrown away his life by such boyish -foolery. Upon the table by your bed you will in the morning find your -rapier, and God grant that it and you may long prove fortunate -companions!" He was turning to go, but recollecting himself, he added, -"One word before I go. I am known here as Mr. Dwyer--remember the name, -Dwyer--I am generally to be heard of in this place. Should you at any -time during your stay in this city require the assistance of a friend -who has a cheerful willingness to serve you, and who is not perhaps -altogether destitute of power, you have only to leave a billet in the -hand of the keeper of this inn, and if I be above ground it will reach -me--of course address it under the name I have last mentioned--and so, -young gentleman, fare you well." So saying, he grasped the hand of his -new friend, shook it warmly, and then, turning upon his heel, strode -swiftly to the door, and so departed, leaving O'Connor with so much -abruptness as not to allow him time to utter a question or remark on -what had passed. - -The excitement of the interview speedily passed away, the fatigues of -the preceding day were persuasively seconded by the soothing sound of -the now abated wind and by the utter darkness of the chamber, and the -young man was soon deep in the forgetfulness of sleep once more. When -the broad, red light of the morning sun broke cheerily into his room, -streaming through the chinks of the old shutters, and penetrating -through the voluminous folds of the vast curtains of rich, faded damask -which surmounted the huge hearse-like bed in which he lay, so as to -make its inmate aware that the hour of repose was past and that of -action come, O'Connor remembered the circumstances of the interview -which had been so strangely intruded upon him but as a dream; nor was -it until he saw the sword which he had believed irrecoverably lost -lying safely upon the table, that he felt assured that the visit and -its purport were not the creation of his slumbering fancy. In reply to -his questions when he descended, he was informed by mine host of the -"Cock and Anchor," that Mr. Dwyer had left the inn-yard upon his stout -hack, a good hour before daybreak. - - - - -CHAPTER III. - -THE LITTLE MAN IN BLUE AND SILVER. - - -Among the loungers who loitered at the door of the "Cock and Anchor," -as the day wore on, there appeared a personage whom it behoves us to -describe. This was a small man, with a very red face and little grey -eyes--he wore a cloth coat of sky blue, with here and there a piece of -silver lace laid upon it without much regard to symmetry; for the -scissors had evidently displaced far the greater part of the original -decorations, whose primitive distribution might be traced by the -greater freshness of the otherwise faded cloth which they had covered, -as well as by some stray threads, which stood like stubbles here and -there to mark the ravages of the sickle. One hand was buried in the -deep flap pocket of a waistcoat of the same hue and material, and -bearing also, in like manner, the evidences of a very decided -retrenchment in the article of silver lace. These symptoms of economy, -however, in no degree abated the evident admiration with which the -wearer every now and then stole a glance on what remained of its -pristine splendours--a glance which descended not ungraciously upon a -leg in whose fascinations its owner reposed an implicit faith. His -right hand held a tobacco-pipe, which, although its contents were not -ignited, he carried with a luxurious nonchalance ever and anon to the -corner of his mouth, where it afforded him sundry imaginary puffs--a -cheap and fanciful luxury, in which my Irish readers need not be told -their humbler countrymen, for lack of better, are wont to indulge. He -leaned against one of the stout wooden pillars on which the front of -the building was reared, and interlarded his economical pantomime of -pipe-smoking with familiar and easy conversation with certain of the -outdoor servants of the inn--a familiarity which argued not any sense -of superiority proportionate to the pretension of his attire. - -"And so," said the little man, turning with an aristocratic ease -towards a stout fellow in a jerkin, with bluff visage and folded arms, -who stood beside him, and addressing him in a most melodious -brogue--"and so, for sartain, you have but five single gintlemen in the -house--mind, I say _single_ gintlemen--for, divil carry me if ever I -take up with a _family_ again--it doesn't answer--it don't _shoot_ -me--I was never made for a family, nor a family for me--I can't stand -their b----y regularity; and--" with a sigh of profound sentiment, and -lowering his voice, he added--"and, the maid-sarvants--no, devil a -taste--they don't answer--they don't _shoot_. My disposition, Tom, is -tindher--tindher to imbecility--I never see a petticoat but it flutters -my heart--the short and the long of it is, I'm always falling in -love--and sometimes the passion is not retaliated by the object, and -more times it is--but, in both cases, I'm aiqually the victim--for my -intintions is always honourable, and of course nothin' comes of it. My -life was fairly frettin' away in a dhrame of passion among the -housemaids--I felt myself witherin' away like a flower in autumn--I was -losing my relish for everything, from bacon and table-dhrink -upwards--dangers were thickening round me--I had but one way to -execrate myself--I gave notice--I departed, and here I am." - -Having wound up the sentence, the speaker leaned forward and spat -passionately on the ground--a pause ensued, which was at length broken -by the same speaker. - -"Only two out of the five," said he, reflectively, "only two unprovided -with sarvants." - -"And neither of 'em," rejoined Tom, a blunt English groom, "very likely -to want one. The one is a lawyer, with a hack as lean as himself, and -more holes, I warrant, than half-pence in his breeches pocket. He's out -a-looking for lodgings, I take it." - -"He's not exactly what I want," rejoined the little man. "What's -th'other like?" - -"A gentleman, every inch, or _I'm_ no judge," replied the groom. "He -came last night, and as likely a bit of horseflesh under him as ever my -two hands wisped down. He chucked me a crown-piece this morning, as if -it had been no more nor a cockle shell--he did." - -"By gorra, he'll do!" exclaimed the little man energetically. "It's a -bargain--I'm his man." - -"Ay, but you mayn't answer, brother; he mayn't take you," observed Tom. - -"Wait a bit--_jist_ wait a bit, till he sees me," replied he of the -blue coat. - -"Ay, wait a bit," persevered the groom, coolly--"wait a bit, and when -he _does_ see you, it strikes me wery possible he mayn't like your -cut." - -"Not like my cut!" exclaimed the little man, as soon as he had -recovered breath; for the bare supposition of such an occurrence -involved in his opinion so utter and astounding a contradiction of all -the laws by which human antipathies and affections are supposed to be -regulated, that he felt for a moment as if his whole previous existence -had been a dream and an illusion. "Not like my _cut_!" - -"No," rejoined the groom, with perfect imperturbability. - -The little man deigned no other reply than that conveyed in a glance of -the most inexpressible contempt, which, having wandered over the person -and accoutrements of the unconscious Tom, at length settled upon his -own lower extremities, where it gradually softened into a gaze of -melancholy complacency, while he muttered, with a pitying smile, "Not -like my cut--not like it!" and then, turning majestically towards the -groom, he observed, with laconic dignity,-- - -"I humbly consave the gintleman has an eye in his head." - -This rebuke had hardly been administered when the subject of their -conference in person passed from the inn into the street. - -"There he goes," observed Tom. - -"And here _I_ go after him," added the candidate for a place; and in a -moment he was following O'Connor with rapid steps through the narrow -streets of the town, southward. It occurred to him, as he hurried after -his intended master, that it might not be amiss to defer his interview -until they were out of the streets, and in some more quiet place; nor -in all probability would he have disturbed himself at all to follow the -young gentleman, were it not that even in the transient glimpse which -he had had of the person and features of O'Connor, the little man -thought, and by no means incorrectly, that he recognized the form of -one whom he had often seen before. - -"That's Mr. O'Connor, as sure as my name's Larry Toole," muttered the -little man, half out of breath with his exertions--"an' it's himself'll -be proud to get me. I wondher what he's afther now. I'll soon see, at -any rate." - -Thus communing within himself, Larry alternately walked and trotted to -keep the chase in view. He might very easily have come up with the -object of his pursuit, for on reaching St. Patrick's Cathedral, -O'Connor paused, and for some minutes contemplated the old building. -Larry, however, did not care to commence his intended negotiation in -the street; he purposed giving him rope enough, having, in truth, no -peculiar object in following him at that precise moment, beyond the -gratification of an idle curiosity; he therefore hung back until -O'Connor was again in motion, when he once more renewed his pursuit. - -O'Connor had soon passed the smoky precincts of the town, and was now -walking at a slackened pace among the green fields and the trees, all -clothed in the rich melancholy hues of early autumn. The evening sun -was already throwing its mellow tint on all the landscape, and the -lengthening shadows told how far the day was spent. In the transition -from the bustle of a town to the lonely quiet of the country at -eventide, and especially at that season of the year when decay begins -to sadden the beauties of nature, there is something at once soothing -and unutterably melancholy. Leaving behind the glare, and dust, and -hubbub of the town, who has not felt in his inmost heart the still -appeal of nature? The saddened beauty of sear autumn, enhanced by the -rich and subdued light of gorgeous sunset--the filmy mist--the -stretching shadows--the serene quiet, broken only by rural sounds, more -soothing even than silence--all these, contrasted with the sounds and -sights of the close, restless city, speak tenderly and solemnly to the -heart of man of the beauty of creation, of the goodness of God, and, -along with these, of the mournful condition of all nature--change, -decay, and death. Such thoughts and feelings, stealing in succession -upon the heart, touch, one by one, the springs of all our sublimest -sympathies, and fill the mind with the beautiful sense of brotherhood, -under God, with all nature. Under the not unpleasing influence of such -suggestions, O'Connor slackened his pace to a slow irregular walk, -which sorely tried the patience of honest Larry Toole. - -"After all," exclaimed that worthy, "it's nothin' more nor less than an -evening walk he's takin', God bless the mark! What business have I -followin' him? unless--see--sure enough he's takin' the short cut to -the manor. By gorra, this is worth mindin'--I must not folly him, -however--I don't want to meet the family--so here I'll plant myself -until sich times as he's comin' back again." - -So saying, Larry Toole clambered to the top of the grassy embankment -which fenced the road, and seating himself between a pair of aged -hawthorn-trees, he watched young O'Connor as he followed the wanderings -of a wild bridle-road until he was at length fairly hidden from view by -the intervening trees and brushwood. - - - - -CHAPTER IV. - -A SCARLET HOOD AMONG THE OLD TREES--THE MANOR OF MORLEY COURT--AND A -PEEP INTO AN ANTIQUE CHAMBER. - - -The path which O'Connor followed was one of those quiet and pleasant -by-roads which, in defiance of what are called improvements, are still -to be discovered throughout Ireland here and there, in some unsuspected -region, winding their green and sequestered ways through many a varied -scene of rural beauty; and, unless when explored by some chance -fisherman or tourist, unknown to all except the poor peasant to whose -simple conveniences they minister. - -Low and uneven embankments, overgrown by a thousand kinds of weeds and -wild flowers and brushwood, marked the boundaries of this rustic -pathway, but in so friendly a sort, and with so little jealousy or -exclusion, that they seemed designed rather to lend a soft and -sheltered resting-place to the tired traveller than to check the -wayward excursions of the idle rambler into the merry fields and -woodlands through which it wound. On either side the tall, hoary trees, -like time-worn pillars, reared their grey, moss-grown trunks and -arching branches, now but thinly clothed with the discoloured foliage -of autumn, and casting their long shadows in the evening sun far over -the sloping and unequal sward. The scene, the hour, and the loneliness -of the place, would of themselves have been enough to induce a pensive -train of thought; but, beyond the silence and seclusion, and the -falling of the leaves in their eternal farewell, and all the other -touching signs of nature's beautiful decay, there were deep in -O'Connor's breast recollections and passions with which the scene -before him was more nearly associated, than with the ordinary -suggestions of fantastic melancholy. - -At some distance from this road, and half hidden among the trees, there -stood an old and extensive building, chiefly of deep red brick, -presenting many and varied fronts and quaint gables, antique-fashioned -casements, and whole groups of fantastic chimneys, sending up their -thin curl of smoke into the still air, and glinting tall and red in the -declining sun; while the dusky hue of the old bricks was every here and -there concealed under rich mantles of dark, luxuriant ivy, which, in -some parts of the structure, had not only mounted to the summits of the -wall, but clambered, in rich profusion, over the steep roof, and even -to the very chimney tops. This antique building--rambling, massive, and -picturesque in no ordinary degree--might well have attracted the -observation of the passer-by, as it presented in succession, through -the irregular vistas of the rich old timber, now one front, now -another, alternately hidden and revealed as the point of observation -was removed. But the eyes of O'Connor sought this ancient mansion, and -dwelt upon its ever-varying aspects, as he pursued his way, with an -interest more deep and absorbing than that of mere curiosity or -admiration; and as he slowly followed the grass-grown road, a thousand -emotions and remembrances came crowding upon his mind, impetuous, -passionate, and wild, but all tinged with a melancholy which even the -strong and sanguine heart of early manhood could not overcome. As the -path proceeded, it became more closely sheltered by the wild bushes and -trees, and its windings grew more wayward and frequent, when on a -sudden, from behind a screen of old thorns which lay a little in -advance, a noble dog, of the true old Irish wolf breed, came bounding -towards him, with every token of joy and welcome. - -"Rover, Rover--down, boy, down," said the stranger, as the huge animal, -in his boisterous greeting, leaped upon him again and again, flinging -his massive paws upon his shoulders, and thrusting his cold nose into -his bosom--"down, Rover, down." - -The first transport of welcome past, the noble dog waited to receive -from his old friend some marks of recognition in return, and then, -swinging his long tail from side to side, away he sprang, as if to -carry the joyful tidings to the companion of his evening ramble. - -O'Connor knew that some of those whom he should not have chosen to meet -just then or there were probably within a stone's throw of the spot -where he now stood, and for a moment he was strongly tempted to turn, -and, if so it might be, unobserved to retrace his steps. The close -screen of wild trees which overshadowed the road would have rendered -this design easy of achievement; but while he was upon the point of -turning to depart, a few notes of some wild and simple Irish melody, -carelessly lilted by a voice of silvery sweetness, floated to his ear. -Every cadence and vibration of _that_ voice was to him enchantment--he -could not choose but pause. The sweet sounds were interrupted by a -rustling among the withered leaves which strewed the ground. Again the -fine old dog made his appearance, dashing joyously along the path -towards him, and following in his wake, with slow and gentle steps, -came a light and graceful female form. On her shoulders rested a short -mantle of scarlet cloth; the hood was thrown partially backward, so as -to leave the rich dark ringlets to float freely in the light breeze of -evening; the faintest flush imaginable tinged the clear paleness of her -cheek, giving to her exquisitely beautiful features a lustre, whose -richness did not, however, subdue their habitual and tender melancholy. -The moment the full dark eyes of the girl encountered O'Connor, the -song died away upon her lips--the colour fled from her cheeks, and as -instantaneously the sudden paleness was succeeded by a blush of such -depth and brilliancy as threw far into shade even the brightest imagery -of poetic fancy. - -"Edmond!" she exclaimed, in a tone so faint and low as scarcely to -reach his ear, and which yet thrilled to his very heart. - -"Yes, Mary--it is, indeed, Edmond O'Connor," answered he, passionately -and mournfully--"come, after long years of separation, over many a mile -of sea and land--unlooked-for, and, mayhap, unwished-for--come once -more to see you, and, in seeing you, to be happy, were it but for a -moment--come to tell you that he loves you fondly, passionately as -ever--come to ask you, dear, dear Mary, if you, too, are unchanged?" - -As he thus spoke, standing by her side, O'Connor gazed on the sad, -sweet face of her he loved so well, and held that little hand, which he -would have given worlds to call his own. The beautiful girl was too -artless to disguise her agitation. She would have spoken, but the -effort was vain--the tears gathered in her dark eyes, and fell faster -and faster, till at length the fruitless struggle ceased, and she wept -long and bitterly. - -"Oh! Edmond," said she, at length, raising her eyes sorrowfully and -fondly to O'Connor's face--"what has called you hither? We two should -hardly have met now or thus." - -"Dear Mary," answered he, with melancholy fervour, "since last I held -this loved hand, years have passed away--three long years and more--in -which we two have never met--in which you scarce have even heard of me. -Mary, three years bring many changes--changes irreparable. Time--which -has, if it were possible, made you more beautiful even than when I saw -you last--may yet have altered earlier feelings, and turned your heart -from me. Were it so, Mary, I would not seek to blame you. I am not so -vain--your rank--your great attractions--your surpassing beauty, must -have won many admirers--drawn many suitors round you; and I--I, among -all these, may well have been forgotten--I, whose best merit is but in -loving you beyond my life. I will not, then--I will not, Mary, ask if -you love me still: but coming thus unbidden and unlooked-for, am I -forgiven--am I welcome, Mary?" - -The artless girl looked up in his face with such a beautiful smile of -trust and love as told more in one brief moment than language could in -volumes. - -"Yes, Mary," said O'Connor, reading that smile aright, with swelling -heart and proud devotion; "yes, Mary. I am remembered--you are still my -own--my own: true, faithful, unchanged, in spite of years of time and -leagues of separation; in spite of all!--my true-hearted, my adored, my -own!" - -He spoke; and in the fulness of their hearts they were both for a while -silent, each gazing on the other in the rapt tenderness of long-tried -love--in the deep, guileless joy of this chance meeting. - -"Hear me," he whispered, lower almost than the murmur of the breeze -through the arching boughs above them, as if fearful that even a breath -would trouble the still enchantment that held them spell-bound: "hear -me, for I have much to tell. The years that have passed since I spoke -to you before have brought to me their store of good and ill, of sorrow -and of hope. I have many things to tell you, Mary; much that gives me -hope--the cheeriest hope--even that of overcoming Sir Richard's -opposition! Ay, Mary, reasonable hope; and why? Because I am no longer -poor: an old friend of my father's, Mr. Audley, has taken me by the -hand, adopted me, made me his heir--the heir to riches and possessions -which even your father will allow to be considerable--which he well may -think enough to engage his prudence in favour of our union. In this -hope, dearest, I am here. I daily expect the arrival of my generous -friend and benefactor; and with him I will go to your father and urge -my suit once more, and with God's blessing at last prevail--but hark! -some one comes." - -Even while he spoke, the lovers were startled by the sound of voices in -gay colloquy, approaching along the quiet by-road on which they stood. - -"Leave me, Edmond, leave me," said the beautiful girl, with earnest -entreaty; "they must not see you with me now." - -"Farewell then, dearest, since it must be so," replied O'Connor, as he -pressed her hand closely in his own; "but meet me to-morrow -evening--meet me by the old gate in the beech-tree walk, at the hour -when you used to walk there. Nay, refuse me not, Mary. Farewell, -farewell till then!" and so saying, before she had time to frame an -answer, he turned from her, and was quickly lost among the trees and -underwood which skirted the pathway. - -In the speakers who approached, the young lady at once recognized her -brother, Henry Ashwoode, and Emily Copland, her pretty cousin. The -young man was handsome alike in face and figure, slightly made, and -bearing in his carriage that indescribable air of aristocratic birth -and pretension which sits not ungracefully upon a handsome person; his -countenance, too, bore a striking resemblance to that of his sister, -and, allowing for the difference of sex, resembled it as nearly as any -countenance which had never expressed a passion but such as had its aim -and origin alike in _self_, could do. He was dressed in the extreme of -the prevailing fashion; and altogether his outward man was in all -respects such as to justify his acknowledged pretensions to be -considered one of the prettiest men in the then gay city of Dublin. The -young lady who accompanied him was, in all points except in that of -years, as unlike her cousin, Mary Ashwoode, as one pretty girl could -well be to another. She was very fair; had a quick, clear eye, which -carried in its glance something more than mere mirth or vivacity; an -animated face, with, however, something of a bold, and at times even of -a haughty expression. Laughing and chatting in light, careless gaiety, -the youthful pair approached the spot where Mary Ashwoode stood. - -"So, so, fair sister," cried the young man, gaily, "alone and musing, -and doubtless melancholy. Shall we venture to approach her, Emily?" - -Women have keener eyes in small matters than men; and Miss Copland at a -glance perceived her fair cousin's flushed cheek and embarrassed -manner. - -"Angels and ministers of grace defend us!" cried she; "the girl has -certainly seen a ghost or a dragoon officer." - -"Neither, I assure you, cousin," replied Miss Ashwoode, with an effort; -"my evening's ramble has not extended beyond this spot; and as yet I've -seen no monster more alarming than my brother's new periwig." - -The young man bowed. - -"Nay, nay," cried Miss Copland, "but I must hear it. There certainly is -some awful mystery at the bottom of all these conscious looks; but -_apropos_ of awful mysteries," continued she, turning to young -Ashwoode, half in pity for Mary's increasing embarrassment; "where _is_ -Major O'Leary? What has become of your amusing old uncle?" - -"That's more than _I_ can tell," replied the young man; "I wash my -hands of the scapegrace. I know nothing of him. I saw him for a moment -in town this morning, and he promised, with a round dozen of oaths, to -be out to dine with us to-day. Thus much _you_ know, and thus much _I_ -know; for the rest, having sins enough of my own to carry, as I said -before, I wash my hands of him and his." - -"Well, now remember, Henry," continued she, "I make it a point with you -to bring him out here to-morrow. In sober seriousness I can't get on -without him. It is a melancholy and a terrible truth, but still one -which I feel it my duty to speak boldly, that Major O'Leary is the only -gallant and susceptible man in the family." - -"Monstrous assertion?" exclaimed the young man; "why, not to mention -myself, the acknowledged pink and perfection of everything that is -irresistible, have you not the perfect command of my worthy cousin, -Arthur Blake?" - -"Now don't put me in a passion, Henry," exclaimed the girl. "How dare -you mention that wretch--that irreclaimable, unredeemed fox-hunter. He -never talks, nor thinks, nor dreams of anything but dogs and badgers, -foxes and other vermin. I verily believe he never yet was seen off a -horse's back, except sometimes in a stable--he is an absolute Irish -centaur! And then his odious attempts at finery--his elaborate, -perverse vulgarity--the perpetual pinching and mincing of his words! An -off-hand, shameless brogue I can endure--a brogue that revels and -riots, and defies the world like your uncle O'Leary's, I can respect -and even admire--but a brogue in a strait waistcoat----" - -"Well, well," rejoined the young man, laughing, "though you may not -find any sprout of the _family_ tree, excepting Major O'Leary, worthy -to contribute to your laudable requirements; yet surely you have a very -fair catalogue of young and able-bodied gentlemen among our neighbours. -What say you to young Lloyd--he lives within a stone's throw. He is a -most proper, pious, and punctual young gentleman; and would make, I -doubt not, a most devout and exemplary _'Cavalier servente_.'" - -"Worse and worse," cried the young lady despondingly; "the most -domestic, stupid, affectionate, invulnerable wretch. He never flirts -out of his own family, and then, for charity I believe, with the oldest -and ugliest. He is the very person for whose special case the rubric -provided that no man shall marry his grandmother." - -"My fair cousin," replied the young man, laughing, "I see you are hard -to please. Meanwhile, sweet ladies both, let me remind you that the sun -has just set; we must make our way homeward--at least _I_ must. By the -way, can I do anything in town for you this evening, beyond a tender -message to my reverend uncle?" - -"Dear me," exclaimed Miss Copland, "you have not passed an evening at -home this age. What _can_ you want, morning, noon, and night in that -smoky, dirty town?" - -"Why, the fact is," replied the young man, "business must be done; I -positively must attend two routs to-night." - -"Whose routs--what are they?" inquired the young lady. - -"One is Mrs. Tresham's, the other Lady Stukely's." - -"I _guessed_ that ugly old kinswoman of mine was at the bottom of it," -exclaimed the young lady with great vivacity. "Lady Stukely--that -pompous, old, frightful goose!--she has laid herself out to seduce you, -Harry; but don't let that dismay you, for ten to one if you fall, -she'll make an honest man of you in the end and marry you. Only think, -Mary, what a sister you shall have," and the young lady laughed -heartily, and then added, "There are some excellent, worthy, abominable -people, who seem made expressly to put one in a passion--perpetual -appeals to one's virtuous indignation. Now do, Henry, for goodness -sake, if a matrimonial catastrophe must come, choose at least some -nymph with less rouge and wrinkles than poor dear Lady Stukely." - -"Kind cousin, thyself shalt choose for me," answered the young man; -"but pray, suffer me to be at large for a year or two more. I would -fain live and breathe a little, before I go down into the matrimonial -pit and be no more seen. But let us mend our pace, the evening turns -chill." - -Thus chatting carelessly, they moved towards the large brick building -which we have already described, embowered among the trees; where -arrived, the young man forthwith applied himself to prepare for a night -of dissipation, and the young ladies to get through a dull evening as -best they might. - -The two fair cousins sate in a large, old-fashioned drawing-room; the -walls were covered with elaborately-wrought tapestry representing, in a -manner sufficiently grim and alarming, certain scenes from Ovid's -Metamorphoses; a cheerful fire blazed in the capacious hearth; and the -cumbrous mantelpiece was covered with those grotesque and monstrous -china figures, misnamed ornaments, which were then beginning to find -favour in the eyes of fashion. Abundance of richly carved furniture was -disposed variously throughout the room. The young ladies sate by a -small table on which lay some books and materials for work, placed near -the fire. They occupied each one of those huge, high-backed, and -well-stuffed chairs in which it is a mystery how our ancestors could -sit and remain awake. Both were silently occupied with their own busy -reflections; and it was not until the rapid clank of the horse's hoofs -upon the pavement underneath the windows, as young Ashwoode started -upon his night ride to the city, rose sharp and clear, that Miss -Copland, waking from her reverie, exclaimed,-- - -"Well, sweet coz, were ever so woebegone and desolate a pair of -damsels. The only available male creature in the establishment, with -the exception of Sir Richard, who has actually gone to bed, has fairly -turned his back upon us." - -"Dear Emily," replied her cousin, "pray be serious. I wish to tell you -what has passed this evening. You observed my confusion and agitation -when you and Henry overtook me." - -"Why, to be sure I did," replied the young lady; "and now, like an -honest coz, you are going to tell me all about it." She drew her chair -nearer as she spoke. "Come, my dear, tell me everything--what was your -discovery? Come, now, there's a good girl, do confess." So saying she -threw one arm round her cousin's neck and laid the other in her lap, -looking curiously into her face the while. - -"Oh! Emily, I have seen him!" exclaimed Miss Ashwoode, with an effort. - -"Seen _him_!--seen whom?--old Nick, if I may judge from your looks. -Whom _have_ you seen, dear?" eagerly inquired Miss Copland. - -"I have seen Edmond O'Connor," answered she. - -"Edmond O'Connor!" repeated the girl in unfeigned surprise, "why, I -thought he was in France, eating frogs and dancing cotillons. What has -brought him here?--why, he'll be taken for a spy and executed on the -spot. But seriously, can you conceive anything more rash and ill-judged -than his coming over just now?" - -"It is indeed, I greatly fear, very rash," replied the young lady; "he -is resolved to speak with my father once more." - -"And your father in such a precious ill-humour just at this precise -moment," exclaimed Miss Copland. "I never _was_ so much afraid of Sir -Richard as I have been for the last two days; he has been a perfect -bruin--begging your pardon, my dear girl--but even _you_ must admit, -let filial piety and all the cardinal virtues say what they will, that -whenever Sir Richard is recovering from a fit of the gout he is nothing -short of a perfect monster. I wager my diamond cross to a thimble, that -he breaks the poor young man's head the moment he comes within reach of -him. But jesting apart, I fear, my dear cousin, that my uncle is in no -mood just now to listen to heroics." - -A sharp knocking upon the floor immediately above the chamber in which -the young ladies sate, interrupted the conference at this juncture. - -"There is my father's signal--he wants me," exclaimed Miss Ashwoode, -and rising as she spoke, without more ado she ran to render the -required attendance. - -"Strange girl," exclaimed Miss Copland, as her cousin's step was heard -ascending the stairs, "strange girl!--she is the veriest simpleton I -ever yet encountered. All this fuss to marry a fellow who is, in plain -words, little better than a beggarman--a good-looking beggarman, to be -sure, but still a beggar. Oh, Mary, simple Mary! I am very much tempted -to despise you--there is certainly something _wrong_ about you! I hate -to see people without ambition enough even to wish to keep their own -natural position. The girl is full of nonsense; but what's that to me? -she'll _un_learn it all one day; but I'm much afraid, simple cousin, a -little too late." - -Having thus soliloquized, she called her maid, and retired for the -night to her chamber. - - - - -CHAPTER V. - -OF O'CONNOR'S MOONLIGHT WALK TO THE "COCK AND ANCHOR," AND WHAT BEFELL -HIM BY THE WAY. - - -As soon as O'Connor had made some little way from the scene of his -sudden and agitating interview with Miss Ashwoode, he slackened his -pace, and with slow steps began to retrace his way toward the city. So -listless and interrupted was his progress, that the sun had descended, -and twilight was fast melting into darkness before he reached that -point in the road at which diverged the sequestered path which he had -followed. As he approached the spot, he observed a small man, with a -pipe in his mouth, and his person arranged in an attitude of ease and -graceful negligence, admirably calculated to exhibit the symmetry and -perfection of his bodily proportions. This man had planted himself in -the middle of the road, so as completely to command the pass, and, as -our reader need scarcely be informed, was no other than Larry -Toole--the important personage to whom we have already introduced him. - -As O'Connor approached, Larry advanced, with a slow and dignified -motion, to receive him: and removing his pipe from his mouth with a -_nonchalant_ air, he compressed the lighted contents of the bowl with -his finger, and then deposited the utensil in his coat pocket, at the -same time, executing, in a very becoming manner, his most courtly bow. -Somewhat surprised, and by no means pleasantly, at an interruption of -so unlooked-for a kind, O'Connor observed, impatiently, "I have neither -time nor temper, friend, to suffer delay or listen to foolery;" and -observing that Larry was preparing to follow him, he added curtly, "I -desire no company, sirrah, and choose to be alone." - -"An' it's exactly because you wish to be alone, and likes solitude," -observed the little man, "that you and me will shoot, being formed by -the bountiful hand iv nature, barrin' a few small exceptions,"--here he -glanced complacently at his right leg, which was a little in advance of -its companion--"as similiar as two eggs." - -Being in no mood to tolerate, far less to encourage this annoying -intrusion, O'Connor pursued his way at a quickened pace, and in -obstinate silence, and in a little time exhibited a total and very -mortifying forgetfulness of Mr. Toole's bodily proximity. That -gentleman, however, was not so easily to be shaken off--he -perseveringly followed, keeping a pace or two behind. - -"It's parfectly unconthrovertible," pursued that worthy, with -considerable solemnity and emphasis, "and at laste as plain as the nose -on your face, that you haven't the smallest taste of a conciption who -it is you're spakin' too, Mr. O'Connor." - -"And pray who may you be, friend?" inquired he, somewhat surprised at -being thus addressed by name. - -"Who else would I be, your honour," rejoined the persevering -applicant--"who else _could_ I be, if you had but a glimmer iv light to -contemplate my forrum and fatures, but Laurence Toole--called by the -men for the most part _Misthur_ Toole, and (he added in a softened -tone) by the girls most commonly designated Larry." - -"Ha--Larry--Larry Toole!" exclaimed O'Connor, half reconciled to an -intrusion up to that moment so ill endured. "Well, Larry, tell me -briefly how are the family at the manor, yonder?" - -"Why, plase your honour," rejoined Larry, promptly, "the ould masthur, -that's Sir Richard, is much oftener gouty than good-humoured, and -more's the pity. I b'lieve he's breaking down very fast, and small -blame to him, for he lived hard, like a rale honourable gentleman. An' -then, the young masthur, that's Masthur Henry--but you didn't know him -so well--he's getting on at the divil's rate--scatt'ring guineas like -small shot. They say he plays away a power of money; and he and the -masthur himself has often hard words enough between them about the way -things is goin' on; but he ates and dhrinks well, an' the health he -gets is as good as he wants for his purposes." - -"Well--but your young mistress," suggested O'Connor--"you have not told -me yet how Miss Ashwoode has been ever since. How have her health and -spirits been--has she been well?" - -"Mixed middlin', like belly bacon," replied Mr. Toole, with an air of -profound sympathy--"shilly-shally, sir--off an' on, like an April -day--sometimes atin' her victuals, sometimes lavin' them--no sartainty. -I think the ould masthur's gout and crossness, and the young one's -vagaries, is frettin' her; and it's sorry I am to see it. An' there's -Miss Emily--that's Miss Copland--a rale jovial slip iv a young lady. I -think you've seen her once or twice up at the manor; but now, since her -father, the ould General, died, she is stayin' for good with the -family. She's a fine lady, and" (drawing close to O'Connor, and -speaking with very significant emphasis) "she has ten thousand pounds -of her own--do you mind me, ten thousand--it's a good fortune--is not -it, sir?" - -He paused for a moment, and receiving no answer, which he interpreted -as a sign that the announcement was operating as it ought, he added -with a confidential wink-- - -"I thought I might as well put you up to it, you know, for no one knows -where a blessin' may light." - -"Larry," said O'Connor, after a considerable silence, somewhat abruptly -and suddenly recollecting the presence of that little person--"if you -have aught to say to me, speak it quickly. What may your business be?" - -"Why, sir," replied he, "the long and short of it is, I left Sir -Richard more than a week since. Not that I was turned away--no, Mr. -O'Connor," continued Mr. Toole, with edifying majesty, "no sich thing -at all in the wide world. My resignation, sir, was the fruit of my own -solemn convictions--for the five years I was with the family, I had no -comfort, or aise, or pace. I may as well spake plain to you, sir, for -_you_, like myself, is young"--Mr. Toole was certainly at the wrong -side of fifty--"you can aisily understand me, sir, when I say that I'm -the victim iv romance, bad cess to it--romance, sir; my buzzam, sir, -was always open to tindher impressions--impressions, sir, that came -into it as natural as pigs into a pittaty garden. I could not shut them -out--the short and the long iv it is, I was always fallin' in love, -since I was the size iv a quart pot--eternally fallin' in love." Mr. -Toole sighed, and then resumed. "I done my best to smother my emotions, -but passion, sir, young and ardent passion, is impossible to be -suppressed: you might as well be trying to keep strong beer in starred -bottles durin' the pariod iv the dog days. But I never knew rightly -what love was all out, in rale, terrible perfection, antil Mistress -Betsy came to live in the family. I'll not attempt to describe -her--it's enough to say she fixed my affections, and done for myself. -She is own maid to the young mistress. I need not expectorate upon the -progress iv my courtship--it's quite enough to observe, that for a -considherable time my path was strewed with flowers, antil a young -chap--an English bliggard, one Peter Clout--an' it's many's the clout -he got, the Lord be thanked for that same!--a lump iv a chap ten times -as ugly as the divil, and without more shapes about him than a pound of -cruds--an impittant, ignorant, presumptious, bothered, bosthoon--antil -this gentleman--this Misthur Peter Clout, made his b----y appearance; -then all at once the divil's delight began. Betsy--the lovely Betsy -Carey--the lovely, the vartious, the beautiful, and the exalted--began -to play thricks. I know she was in love with me--over head and ears, as -bad as myself--but woman is a mystarious agent, an' bangs Banagher. -Long as I've been larnin', I never could larn why it is they take -delight in tormentin' the tindher-hearted." - -This reflection was uttered in a tone of tender woe, and the speaker -paused for some symptom of assent from his auditor. It is, however, -hardly necessary to say that he paused in vain. O'Connor had enough to -occupy his mind; and so far from listening to his companion's -narrative, he was scarcely conscious that Mr. Toole, in bodily -presence, was walking beside him. That "tindher-hearted" individual -accordingly resumed the thread of his discourse. - -"But, at any rate, she laid herself out to make me jealous of Peter -Clout; and, with the blessin' iv the divil, she succeeded complately. -Things were going on this way--she lettin' on to be mighty fond iv -Peter, an' me gettin' angrier an' angrier, and Mr. Clout more an' more -impittent every day, antill I seen there was no use in purtendin'; so -one mornin' when we were both of us--myself and Mr. Peter -Clout--clainin' up the things in the pantry, I thought I might as well -have a bit iv discourse with him--when I seen, do ye mind, there was no -use in mortifyin' the chap with contempt, for I did not spake to him, -good, bad, or indifferent, for more than a fortnight, an' he was so -ignorant and unmannerly he never noticed the differ. When I seen there -was no use in keepin' him at a distance, says I to him one day in the -panthry--'Mr. Clout,' says I, 'your conduct in regard iv some persons -in this house,' says I, 'is iv a description that may be shuitable to -the English spalpeens,' says I, 'but is about as like the conduct of a -gintleman,' says I, 'as blackin' is to plate powder.' So he turns -round, an' he looks at me as if I was a Pollyphamius. 'Mind your work,' -says I, 'young man, an' don't be lookin' at me as if I was a hathian -godess,' says I. 'It's Mr. Toole that's speakin' to you, an' you -betther mind what he says. The long an' the short iv it is, I don't -like you to be hugger-muggering with a sartain delicate famale in this -establishment; an' if I catch you talkin' any more to Misthress Betsy -Carey, I give you fair notice, it's at your own apparel. Beware of -me--for as sure as you don't behave to my likin', you might as well be -in the one panthry with a hyania,' says I, an' it was thrue for me, an' -it was the same way with my father before me, an' all the Tooles up to -the time of Noah's ark. In pace I'm a turtle-dove all out; but once I'm -riz, I'm a rale tarin' vulture." - -Here Mr. Toole paused to call up a look, and after a grim shake of the -head, he resumed. - -"Things went on aisy enough for a day or two, antill I happened to walk -into the sarvants' hall, an' who should I see but Mr. Clout sittin' on -the same stool with Misthriss Betsy, an' his arm round her waist--so -when I see that, before any iv them could come between us, with the -fair madness I made one jump at him, an' we both had one another by the -windpipe before you'd have time to bless yourself. Well, round an' -round we went, rowlin' with our heads and backs agin the walls, an' -divil a spot of us but was black an' blue, antill we kem to the -chimney; an' sure enough when we did, down we rowled both together, -glory be to God! into the fire, an' upset a kittle iv wather on top iv -us; an' with that there was sich a screechin' among the women, an' -maybe a small taste from ourselves, that the masthur kem in, an' if he -didn't lay on us with his walkin' stick it's no matter; but, at any -rate, as soon as we recovered from the scaldin' an' the bruises. _I_ -retired, an' the English chap was turned away; an' that's the whole -story, an' I tuk my oath that I'll never go into sarvice in a _family_ -again. I can't make any hand of women--they're made for desthroyin' all -sorts iv pace iv mind--they're etarnally triflin' with the most sarious -and sacred emotions. I'll never sarve any but single gentlemen from -this out, if I was to be sacrificed for it--never a bit, by the hokey!" - -So saying, Mr. Toole, having, in the course of his harangue, reproduced -his pipe from his pocket, with a view to flourish it in emphatic -accompaniment with the cadences of his voice, smote the bowl of it upon -the edge of his cocked hat, which he held in his hand, with so much -passion, that the head of the pipe flew across the road, and was for -ever lost among the docks and nettles. One glance he deigned to the -stump which remained in his hand, and then, with an air of romantic -recklessness which laughs at all sacrifices, he flung it disdainfully -from him, clapped his cocked hat upon his head with a vehemence which -brought it nearly to the bridge of his nose, and, planting his hands in -his breeches pockets, he glanced at the stars with a scowl which, if -they take any note of things terrestrial, must have filled them with -alarm. - -Suddenly recollecting himself, Mr. Toole perceived that his intended -master, having walked on, had left him considerably behind; he -therefore put himself into an easy amble, which speedily brought him up -with the chase. - -"Mr. O'Connor, plase your honour," he exclaimed, "sure it's not -possible it's goin' to lave me behind you are, an' me so proud iv your -company; an', moreover, after axin' you for a situation--that is, -always supposin' you want the sarvices iv a rale dashin' young fellow, -that's up to everything, an' willing to sarve you in any incapacity. -An' by gorra, sir," continued he, pathetically, "it's next door to a -charity to take me, for I've but one crown in the wide world left, an' -I must change it to-night; an' once I change money, the shillin's makes -off with themselves like a hat full of sparrows into the elements, the -Lord knows where." - -With a desolate recklessness, he chucked the crown-piece into the air, -caught it in his palm, and walked silently on. - -"Well, well," said O'Connor, "if you choose to make so uncertain an -engagement as for the term of my stay in Dublin, you are welcome to be -my servant for so long." - -"It's a bargain," shouted Mr. Toole--"a bargain, plase your honour, -done and done on both sides. I'm your man--hurra!" - -They had already entered the suburbs, and before many minutes were -involved in the dark and narrow streets, threading their way, as best -they might, toward the genial harbourage of the "Cock and Anchor." - - - - -CHAPTER VI. - -THE SOLDIER--THE NIGHT RAMBLE--AND THE WINDOW THAT LET IN MORE THAN THE -MOONLIGHT. - - -Short as had been O'Connor's sojourn, it nevertheless had been -sufficiently long to satisfy mine host of the "Cock and Anchor," an -acute observer in such particulars, that whatever his object might have -been in avoiding the more fashionably frequented inns of the city, -economy at least had no share in his motive. O'Connor, therefore, had -hardly entered the public room of the inn, when a servant respectfully -informed him that a private chamber was prepared for his reception, if -he desired to occupy it. The proposition suited well with his temper at -the minute, and with all alacrity he followed the waiter, who bowed him -upstairs and through a dingy passage into a room whose claims, if not -to elegance, at least to comfort, could hardly have been equalled, -certainly not excelled, by the more luxurious pretensions of most -modern hotels. - -It was a large, capacious chamber, nearly square, wainscoted with dark -shining wood, and decorated with certain dingy old pictures, which -might have been, for anything to the contrary, appearing in so -uncertain a light, _chefs d'oeuvre_ of the mighty masters of the olden -time: at all events, they looked as warm and comfortable as if they -were. The hearth was broad, deep, and high enough to stable a Kerry -pony, and was surmounted by a massive stone mantelpiece, rudely but -richly carved--abundance of old furniture--tables, at which the saintly -Cromwell might have smoked and boozed, and chairs old enough to have -supported Sir Walter Raleigh himself, were disposed about the room with -a profuseness which argued no niggard hospitality. A pair of wax-lights -burned cheerily upon a table beside the bright crackling fire which -blazed in the huge cavity of the hearth; and O'Connor threw himself -into one of those cumbrons, tall-backed, and well-stuffed chairs, which -are in themselves more potent invitations to the sweet illusive -visitings from the world of fancy and of dreams than all the drugs or -weeds of eastern climes. Thus suffering all his material nature to rest -in absolute repose, he loosed at once the reins of imagination and -memory, and yielded up his mind luxuriously to their mingled realities -and illusions. - -He may have been, perhaps, for two or three hours employed thus -listlessly in chewing the cud of sweet and bitter fancy, when his -meditations were interrupted by a brisk step upon the passage leading -to the apartment in which he sate, instantly succeeded by as brisk a -knocking at the chamber door itself. - -"Is this Mr. O'Connor's chamber?" inquired a voice of peculiar -richness, intonated not unpleasingly with a certain melodious -modification of the brogue, bespeaking a sort of passionate -_devil-may-carishness_ which they say in the good old times wrought -grievous havoc among womankind. The summons was promptly answered by an -invitation to enter; and forthwith the door opened, and a comely man -stepped into the room. The stranger might have seen some fifty or sixty -summers, or even more; for his was one of those joyous, good-humoured, -rubicund visages, upon which time vainly tries to write a wrinkle. His -frame was robust and upright, his stature tall, and there was in his -carriage something not exactly a swagger (for with all his oddities, -the stranger was evidently a gentleman), but a certain rollicking -carelessness, which irresistibly conveyed the character of a reckless, -head-long good-humour and daring, to which nothing could come amiss. In -the hale and jolly features, which many would have pronounced handsome, -were written, in characters which none could mistake, the prevailing -qualities of the man--a gay and sparkling eye, in which lived the very -soul of convivial jollity, harmonized right pleasantly with a smile, no -less of archness than _bonhomie_, and in the brow there was a certain -indescribable cock, which looked half pugnacious and half comic. On the -whole, the stranger, to judge by his outward man, was precisely the -person to take his share in a spree, be the same in joke or earnest--to -tell a good story--finish a good bottle--share his last guinea with -you--or blow your brains out, as the occasion might require. He was -arrayed in a full suit of regimentals, and taken for all in all, one -need hardly have desired a better sample of the dashing, light-hearted, -daredevil Irish soldier of more than a century since. - -"Ah! Major O'Leary," cried O'Connor, starting from his seat, and -grasping the soldier's hand, "I am truly glad to see you; you are the -very man of all others I most require at this moment. I was just about -to have a fit of the blue devils." - -"Blue devils!" exclaimed the major; "don't talk to a youngster like me -of any such infernal beings; but tell me how you are, every inch of -you, and what brings you here?" - -"I never was better; and as to my business," replied O'Connor, "it is -too long and too dull a story to tell you just now; but in the -meantime, let us have a glass of Burgundy; mine host of the 'Cock and -Anchor' boasts a very peculiar cellar." So saying, O'Connor proceeded -to issue the requisite order. - -"That does he, by my soul!" replied the major, with alacrity; "and for -that express reason I invariably make it a point to renew my friendly -intimacy with its contents whenever I visit the metropolis. But I can't -stay more than five minutes, so proceed to operations with all -dispatch." - -"And why all this hurry?" inquired O'Connor. "Where need you go at this -hour?" - -"Faith, I don't precisely know myself," rejoined the soldier; "but I've -a strong impression that my evil genius has contrived a scheme to -inveigle me into a cock-pit not a hundred miles away." - -"I'm sorry for it, with all my heart, Major," replied O'Connor, "since -it robs me of your company." - -"Nay, you must positively come along with me," resumed the major; "I -sip my Burgundy on these express conditions. Don't leave me at these -years without a mentor. I rely upon your prudence and experience; if -you turn me loose upon the town to-night, without a moral guide, upon -my conscience, you have a great deal to answer for. I may be fleeced in -a hell, or milled in a row; and if I fall in with female society, by -the powers of celibacy! I can't answer for the consequences." - -"Sooth to say, Major," rejoined O'Connor, "I'm in no mood for mirth." - -"Come, come! never look so glum," insisted his visitor. "Remember I -have arrived at years of _in_discretion, and must be looked after. -Man's life, my dear fellow, naturally divides itself into three great -stages; the first is that in which the youthful disciple is carefully -instructing his mind, and preparing his moral faculties, in silence, -for all sorts of villainy--this is the season of youth and innocence; -the second is that in which he _practises_ all kinds of rascality--and -this is the flower of manhood, or the prime of life; the third and last -is that in which he strives to make his soul--and this is the period of -dotage. Now, you see, my dear O'Connor, I have unfortunately arrived at -the prime of life, while you are still in the enjoyment of youth and -innocence; I am practising what you are plotting. You are, -unfortunately for yourself, a degree more sober than I; you can -therefore take care that I sin with due discretion--permit me to rob or -murder, without being robbed or murdered in return." - -Here the major filled and quaffed another glass, and then continued,-- - -"In short, I am--to speak in all solemnity and sobriety--so drunk, that -it's a miracle how I mounted these rascally stairs without breaking my -neck. I have no distinct recollection of the passage, except that I -kissed some old hunks instead of the chamber-maid, and pulled his nose -in revenge. I solemnly declare I can neither walk nor think without -assistance; my heels and head are inclined to change places, and I -can't tell the moment the body politic may be capsized. I have no -respect in the world for my intellectual or physical endowments at this -particular crisis; my sight is so infernally acute that I see all -surrounding objects considerably augmented in number; my legs have -asserted their independence, and perform 'Sir Roger de Coverley,' -altogether unsolicited; and my memory and other small mental faculties -have retired for the night. Under those melancholy circumstances, my -dear fellow, you surely won't refuse me the consolation of your -guidance." - -"Had not you better, my dear Major," said O'Connor, "remain with me -quietly here for the night, out of the reach of sharks and sharpers, -male and female? You shall have claret or Burgundy, which you -please--enough to fill a skin!" - -"I can't hold more than a bottle additional," replied the major, -regretfully, "if I can even do that; so you see I'm bereft of domestic -resources, and must look abroad for occupation. The fact is, I expect -to meet one or two fellows whom I want to see, at the place I've named; -so if you can come along with me, and keep me from falling into the -gutters, or any other indiscretion by the way, upon my conscience, you -will confer a serious obligation on me." - -O'Connor plainly perceived that although the major's statement had been -somewhat overcharged, yet that his admissions were not altogether -fanciful; there were in the gallant gentleman's face certain symptoms -of recent conviviality which were not to be mistaken--a perceptible -roll of the eye, and a slight screwing of the lips, which -peculiarities, along with the faintest possible approximation to a -hiccough, and a gentle see-saw vibration of his stalwart person, were -indications highly corroborative of the general veracity of his -confessions. Seeing that, in good earnest, the major was not precisely -in a condition to be trusted with the management of anything pertaining -to himself or others, O'Connor at once resolved to see him, if -possible, safely through his excursion, if after the discussion of the -wine which was now before them, he should persevere in his fancy for a -night ramble. They therefore sate down together in harmonious -fellowship, to discuss the flasks which stood upon the board. - -O'Connor was about to fill his guest's glass for the tenth or twelfth -time, when the major suddenly ejaculated,-- - -"Halt! ground arms! I can no more. Why, you hardened young reprobate, -it's not to make me drunk you're trying? I must keep senses enough to -behave like a Christian at the cock-fight; and, upon my soul! I've very -little rationality to spare at this minute. Put on your hat, and come -without delay, before I'm fairly extinguished." - -O'Connor accordingly donned his hat and cloak, and yielding the major -the double support of his arm on the one side, and of the banisters on -the other, he conducted him safely down the stairs, and with wonderful -steadiness, all things considered, they entered the street, whence, -under the major's direction, they pursued their way. After a silence of -a few minutes, that military functionary exclaimed, with much -gravity,-- - -"I'm a great social philosopher, a great observer, and one who looks -quite through the deeds of men. My dear boy, believe me, this country -is in the process of a great moral reformation; hospitality--which I -take to be the first, and the last, and the only one of all the virtues -of a bishop which is fit for the practice of a gentleman--hospitality, -my dear O'Connor, is rapidly approaching to a climax in this country. I -remember, when I was a little boy, a gentleman might pay a visit of a -week or so to another in the country, and be all the time nothing more -than tipsy--_tipsy_ merely. However, matters gradually improved, and -that stage which philosophers technically term simple drunkenness, -became the standard of hospitality. This passed away, and the sense of -the country, in its silent but irresistible operation, has substituted -_blind_ drunkenness; and in the prophetic spirit of sublime philosophy, -I foresee the arrival of that time when no man can escape the fangs of -hospitality upon any conditions short of brain fever or delirium -tremens." - -As the major delivered this philosophic discourse, he led O'Connor -through several obscure streets and narrow lanes, till at length he -paused in one of the very narrowest and darkest before a dingy brick -house, whose lower windows were secured with heavy bars of iron. The -door, which was so incrusted with dirt and dust that the original paint -was hardly anywhere discernible, stood ajar, and within burned a feeble -and ominous light, so faint and murky, that it seemed fearful of -disclosing the deeds and forms which itself was forced to behold. Into -this dim and suspicious-looking place the major walked, closely -followed by O'Connor. In the hall he was encountered by a huge -savage-looking fellow, who raised his squalid form lazily from a bench -which rested against the wall at the further end, and in a low, gruff -voice, like the incipient growl of a roused watch-dog, inquired what -they wanted there. - -"Why, Mr. Creigan, don't you know Major O'Leary?" inquired that -gentleman. "I and a friend have business here." - -The man muttered something in the way of apology, and opening the dingy -lantern in which burned the wretched tallow candle which half lighted -the place, he snuffed it with his finger and thumb, and while so doing, -desired the major to proceed. Accordingly, with the precision of one -who was familiar with every turn of the place, the gallant officer led -O'Connor through several rooms, lighted in the same dim and shabby way, -into a corridor leading directly to the rearward of the house, and -connecting it with some other detached building. As they threaded this -long passage, the major turned towards O'Connor, who followed him, and -whispered,-- - -"Did you mark that ill-looking fellow in the hall? Poor Creigan!--a -gentleman!--would you think it?--a _gentleman_ by birth, and with a -snug property, too--four hundred good pounds a year, and more--all -gone, like last year's snow, chiefly here in backing mains of his own! -poor dog! I remember him one of the best dressed men on town, and now -he's fain to pick up a few shillings by the week in the place where he -lost his thousands; this is the state of man!" - -As he spoke thus, they had reached the end of the passage. The major -opened the door which terminated the corridor, and thus displayed a -scene which, though commonplace enough in its ingredients, was, -nevertheless, in its _coup d'oeil_, sufficiently striking. In the -centre of a capacious and ill-finished chamber stood a circular -platform, with a high ledge running round it. This arena, some fourteen -feet in diameter, was surrounded by circular benches, which rose one -outside the other, in parallel tiers, to the wall. Upon these seats -were crowded some hundreds of men--a strange mixture; gentlemen of -birth and honour sate side by side with notorious swindlers; noblemen -with coalheavers; simpletons with sharks; the unkempt, greasy locks of -squalid destitution mingled in the curls of the patrician periwig; -aristocratic lace and embroidery were rubbed by the dusty shoulders of -draymen and potboys;--all these gross and glaring contrarieties -reconciled and bound together by one hellish sympathy. All sate locked -in breathless suspense, every countenance fixed in the hard lines of -intense, excited anxiety and vigilance; all leaned forward to gaze upon -the combat whose crisis was on the point of being determined. Those who -occupied the back seats had started up, and pressing forward, almost -crushed those in front of them to death. Every aperture in this living -pile was occupied by some eager, haggard, or ruffian face; and, spite -of all the pushing, and crowding, and bustling, all were silent, as if -the powers of voice and utterance were unknown among them. - -The effect of this scene, so suddenly presented--the crowd of -ill-looking and anxious faces, the startling glare of light, and the -unexpected rush of hot air from the place--all so confounded him, that -O'Connor did not for some moments direct his attention to the object -upon which the gaze of the fascinated multitude was concentrated; when -he did so he beheld a spectacle, abstractedly, very disproportioned in -interest to the passionate anxiety of which it was the subject. Two -game cocks, duly trimmed, and having the long and formidable steel -weapons with which the humane ingenuity of "the fancy" supplies the -natural spur of the poor biped, occupied the centre of the circular -stage which we have described; one of the birds lay upon his back, -beneath the other, which had actually sent his spurs through and -through his opponent's neck. In this posture the wounded animal lay, -with his beak open, and the blood trickling copiously through it upon -the board. The victorious bird crowed loud and clear, and a buzz began -to spread through the spectators, as if the battle were already -determined, and suspense at an end. The "law" had just expired, and the -gentlemen whose business it was to _handle_ the birds were preparing to -withdraw them. - -"Twenty to one on the grey cock," exclaimed a large, ill-looking -fellow, who sat close to the pit, clutching his arms in his brawny -hands, as if actually hugging himself with glee, while he gazed with an -exulting grin upon the combat, whose issue seemed now beyond the reach -of chance. The challenge was, of course, unaccepted. - -"Fifty to one!" exclaimed the same person, still more ecstatically. -"One hundred to one--_two_ hundred to one!" - -"I'll give you one guinea to two hundred," exclaimed perhaps the -coolest gambler in that select assembly, young Henry Ashwoode, who sat -also near the front. - -"Done, Mr. Ashwoode--done with _you_; it's a bet, sir," said the same -ill-looking fellow. - -"Done, sir," replied Ashwoode. - - [Illustration: "Again the conqueror crowed the shrill note of - victory." - _To face page 34_.] - -Again the conqueror crowed the shrill note of victory, and all seemed -over, when, on a sudden, by one of those strange vicissitudes of which -the annals of the cock-pit afford so many examples, the dying bird--it -may be roused by the vaunting challenge of his antagonist--with one -convulsive spasm, struck both his spurs through and through the head of -his opponent, who dropped dead upon the table, while the wounded bird, -springing to his legs, flapped his wings, as if victory had never -hovered, and then as momentarily fell lifeless on the board, by this -last heroic feat winning a main on which many thousands of pounds -depended. A silence for a moment ensued, and then there followed the -loud exulting cheers of some, and the hoarse, bitter blasphemies of -others, clamorous expostulation, hoarse laughter, curses, congratulations, -and invectives--all mingled with the noise occasioned by those who came -in or went out, the shuffling and pounding of feet, in one torrentuous -and stunning volume of sound. - -Young Ashwoode having secured and settled all his bets, shouldered his -way through the crowd, and with some difficulty, reached the door at -which Major O'Leary and O'Connor were standing. - -"How do you do, uncle? Were you in the room when I took the two hundred -to one?" inquired the young man. - -"By my conscience, I was, Hal, and wish you joy with all my heart. It -was a sporting bet on both sides, and as game a fight as the world ever -saw." - -"I must be off," continued the young man. "I promised to look in at -Lady Stukely's to-night; but before I go, you must know they are all -affronted with you at the manor. The girls are positively outrageous, -and desired me to command your presence to-morrow on pain of -excommunication." - -"Give my tender regards to them both," replied the major, "and assure -them that I will be proud to obey them. But don't you know my friend -O'Connor," he added, in a lower tone, "you are old acquaintances, I -believe?" - -"Unless my memory deceives me, I have had the honour of meeting Mr. -O'Connor before," said the young man, with a cold bow, which was -returned by O'Connor with more than equal _hauteur_. "Recollect, uncle, -no excuses," added young Ashwoode, as he retreated from the -chamber--"you have promised to give to-morrow to the girls. Adieu." - -"There goes as finished a specimen of a mad-cap, rake-helly young devil -as ever carried the name of Ashwoode or the blood of the O'Leary's," -observed the uncle; "but come, we must look to the sport." - -So saying, the major, exerting his formidable strength, and -accompanying his turbulent progress with a large distribution of -apologetic and complimentary speeches of the most high-flown kind, -shoved and jostled his way to a vacant place near the front of the -benches, and, seating himself there, began to give and take bets to a -large amount upon the next main. Tired of the noise, and nearly stifled -with the heat of the place, O'Connor, seeing that the major was -resolved to act independently of him, thought that he might as well -consult his own convenience as stay there to be stunned and suffocated -without any prospect of expediting the major's retreat; he therefore -turned about and retraced his steps through the passage which we have -mentioned. The grateful coolness of the air, and the lassitude induced -by the scene in which he had taken a part, though no very prominent -one, induced him to pause in the first room to which the passage, as we -have said, gave access; and happening to espy a bench in one of the -recesses of the windows, he threw himself upon it, thoroughly to -receive the visitings of the cool, hovering air. As he lay listless and -silently upon this rude couch, he was suddenly disturbed by a sound of -someone treading the yard beneath. A figure sprang across toward the -window; and almost instantaneously Larry Toole--for the moonlight -clearly revealed the features of the intruder--was presented at the -aperture, and with an energetic spring, accompanied by a no less -energetic, devotional ejaculation, that worthy vaulted into the -chamber, agitated, excited, and apparently at his wits' end. - - - - -CHAPTER VII. - -THREE GRIM FIGURES IN A LONELY LANE--TWO QUEER GUESTS RIDING TO TONY -BLIGH'S--THE WATCHER IN DANGER--AND THE HIGHWAYMEN. - - -A liberal and unsolicited attention to the affairs of other people, was -one among the many amiable peculiarities of Mr. Laurence Toole: he had -hardly, therefore, seen the major and O'Connor fairly beyond the -threshold of the "Cock and Anchor," when he donned his cocked hat and -followed their steps, allowing, however, an interval sufficiently long -to secure himself against detection. Larry Toole well knew the purposes -to which the squalid mansion which we have described was dedicated, and -having listened for a few moments at the door, to allow his master and -his companion time to reach the inner sanctuary of vice and brutality, -whither it was the will of Major O'Leary to lead his reluctant friend, -this faithful squire entered at the half-open door, and began to -traverse the passage which we have before mentioned. He was not, -however, permitted long to do so undisturbed. The grim sentinel of -these unhallowed regions on a sudden upreared his towering proportions, -heaving his huge shoulders with a very unpleasant appearance of -preparation for an effort, and with two or three formidable strides, -brought himself up with the presumptuous intruder. - -"What do _you_ want here--eh! you d----d scarecrow?" exclaimed the -porter, in a tone which made the very walls to vibrate. - -Larry was too much astounded to reply--he therefore remained mute and -motionless. - -"See, my good cove," observed the gaunt porter, in the same impressive -accents of admonition--"make yourself scarce, d'ye mind; and if you -want to see the pit, go round--we don't let potboys and pickpockets in -at this side--cut and run, or I'll have to give you a lift." - -Larry was no poltroon; but another glance at the colossal frame of the -porter quelled effectually whatever pugnacious movements might have -agitated his soul; and the little man, having deigned one look of -infinite contempt, which told his antagonist, as plainly as any look -could do, that he owed his personal safety solely and exclusively to -the sublime and unmerited pity of Mr. Laurence Toole, that dignified -individual turned on his heel, and withdrew somewhat precipitately -through the door which he had just entered. - -The porter grinned, rolled his quid luxuriously till it made the grand -tour of his mouth, shrugged his square shoulders, and burst into a -harsh chuckle. Such triumphs as the one he had just enjoyed, were the -only sweet drops which mingled in the bitter cup of his savage -existence. Meanwhile, our romantic friend, traversing one or two dark -lanes, made his way easily enough to the more public entrance of this -temple of fortune. The door which our friend Larry now approached lay -at the termination of a long and narrow lane, enclosed on each side -with dead walls of brick--at the far end towered the dark outline of -the building, and over the arched doorway burned a faint and dingy -light, without strength enough to illuminate even the bricks against -which it hung, and serving only in nights of extraordinary darkness as -a dim, solitary star, by which the adventurous night rambler might -shape his course. The moon, however, was now shining broad and clear -into the broken lane, revealing every inequality and pile of rubbish -upon its surface, and throwing one side of the enclosure into black, -impenetrable shadow. Without premeditation or choice, it happened that -our friend Larry was walking at the dark side of the lane, and shrouded -in the deep obscurity he advanced leisurely toward the doorway. As he -proceeded, his attention was arrested by a figure which presented -itself at the entrance of the building, accompanied by two others, as -it appeared, about to pass forth into the lane through which he himself -was moving. They were engaged in animated debate as they -approached--the conversation was conducted in low and earnest -tones--their gestures were passionate and sudden--their progress -interrupted by many halts--and the party evinced certain sinister -indications of uneasy vigilance and caution, which impressed our friend -with a dark suspicion of mischief, which was strengthened by his -recognition of two of the persons composing the little group. His -curiosity was irresistibly piqued, and he instinctively paused, lest -the sound of his advancing steps should disturb the conference, and -more than half in the undefined hope that he might catch the substance -of their conversation before his presence should be detected. In this -object he was perfectly successful. - -In the form which first offered itself, he instantly detected the -well-known proportions and features of young Ashwoode's groom, who had -attended his master into town; and in company with this fellow stood a -person whom Larry had just as little difficulty in recognizing as a -ruffian who had twice escaped the gallows by the critical interposition -of fortune--once by a flaw in the indictment, and again through lack of -sufficient evidence in law--each time having stood his trial on a -charge of murder. It was not very wonderful, then, that this startling -companionship between his old fellow-servant and Will Harris (or, as he -was popularly termed, "Brimstone Bill") should have piqued the -curiosity of so inquisitive a person as Larry Toole. - -In company with these worthies was a third, wrapped in a heavy -riding-coat, and who now and then slightly took part in the -conversation. They all talked in low, earnest whispers, casting many a -stealthy glance backward as they advanced through the dim avenue toward -our curious friend. - -As the party approached, Larry ensconced himself in the recess formed -by the projection of two dilapidated brick piers, between which hung a -crazy door, and in whose front there stood a mound of rubbish some -three feet in height. In such a position he not unreasonably thought -himself perfectly secure. - -"Why, what the devil ails you now, you cursed cowardly ninny," -whispered Brimstone Bill, through his set teeth--"what can happen -_you_, win or lose?--turn up black, or turn up red, is it not all one -to you, you _mouth_, you? _Your_ carcase is safe and sound--then what -do you funk for now? Rouse yourself, you d----d idiot, or I'll drive a -brace of lead pellets through your brains--rouse yourself!" - -Thus speaking, he shook the groom roughly by the collar. - -"Stop, Bill--hands off," muttered the man, sulkily--"I'm not -funking--you know I'm not; but I don't want to see him _finished_--I -don't want to see him murdered when there's no occasion for it--there's -no great harm in that; we want his _ribben_, not his blood; there's no -profit in taking his life." - -"Booby! listen to me," replied the ruffian, in the same tone of intense -impatience. "What do _I_ want with his life any more than you do? -Nothing. Do not I wish to do the thing genteelly as much as you? He -shall not lose a drop of blood, nor his skin have a scratch, if he -knows how to behave and be a good boy. Bah! we need but show him the -_lead towels_, and the job's done. Look you, I and Jack will sit in the -private room of the 'Bleeding Horse.' Old Tony's a trump, and asks no -questions; so, as you pass, give the window a skelp of the whip, and -we'll be out in the snapping of a flint. Leave the rest to us. You have -your instructions, you _kedger_, so act up to them, and the devil -himself can't spoil our sport." - -"You may look out for us, then," said the servant, "in less than two -hours. He never stays late at Lady Stukely's, and he must be home -before two o'clock." - -"Do not forget to grease the hammers," suggested the fellow in the -heavy coat. - -"He doesn't carry pistols to-night," replied the attendant. - -"So much the better--all _my_ luck," exclaimed Brimstone--"I would not -swap luck with the chancellor." - -"The devil's children, they say," observed the gentleman in the large -coat, "have the devil's luck." - -These were the last words Larry Toole could distinguish as the party -moved onward. He ventured, however, although with grievous tremors, to -peep out of his berth to ascertain the movements of the party. They all -stopped at a distance of some twenty or thirty yards from the spot -where he crouched, and for a time appeared again absorbed in earnest -debate. On a sudden, however, the fellow in the riding-coat, having -frequently looked suspiciously up the lane in which they stood, stooped -down, and, picking up a large stone, hurled it with his whole force in -the direction of the embrasure in which Larry was lurking. The missile -struck the projecting pier within a yard of that gentleman's head, with -so much force that the stone burst into fragments and descended in a -shower of splinters about his ears. This astounding salute was -instantly followed by an occurrence still more formidable--for the -ruffian, not satisfied with the test already applied, strode up in -person to the doorway in which Larry had placed himself. It was well -for that person that he was sheltered in front by the mass of rubbish -which we have mentioned: at the foot of this he lay coiled, not daring -even to breathe; every moment expecting to feel the cold point of the -villain's sword poking against his ribs, and half inclined to start -upon his feet and shout for help, although conscious that to do so -would scarcely leave him a chance for his life. The suspicions of the -wretch were, fortunately for Larry, ill-directed. He planted one foot -upon the heap of loose materials which, along with the deep shadow, -constituted poor Mr. Toole's only safeguard; and while the stones which -his weight dislodged rolled over that prostrate person, he pushed open -the door and gazed into the yard, lest any inquisitive ear or eye might -have witnessed more than was consistent with the safety of the -confederates of Brimstone Bill. The fellow was satisfied, and returned -whistling, with affected carelessness, towards his comrades. - -More dead than alive, Larry remained mute and motionless for many -minutes, not daring to peep forth from his hiding-place; when at length -he mustered courage to do so, he saw the two robbers still together, -and again shrunk back into his retreat. Luckily for the poor wight, the -fellow who had looked into the yard left the door unclosed, which, -after a little time perceiving, Larry glided stealthily in on all -fours, and in a twinkling sprang into the window at which his master -lay, as we have already recorded. - - - - -CHAPTER VIII. - -THE WARNING--SHOWING HOW LARRY TOOLE FARED--WHOM HE SAW AND WHAT HE -SAID--AND HOW MUCH GOOD AND HOW LITTLE HE DID--AND MOREOVER RELATING -HOW SOMEBODY WAS LAID IN THE MIRE--AND HOW HENRY ASHWOODE PUT HIS FOOT -IN THE STIRRUP. - - -Flurried and frightened as Larry was, his agitation was not strong -enough to overcome in him the national, instinctive abhorrence of the -character of an informer. To the close interrogatories of his master, -he returned but vague and evasive answers. A few dark hints he threw -out as to the cause of his alarm, but preserved an impenetrable silence -respecting alike its particular nature and the persons of whose -participation in the scheme he was satisfied. - -In language incoherent and nearly unintelligible from excitement, he -implored O'Connor to allow him to absent himself for about one hour, -promising the most important results, in case his request was complied -with, and vowing upon his return to tell him everything about the -matter from beginning to end. - -Seeing the agonized earnestness of the man, though wholly uninformed of -the cause of his uneasiness, which Larry constantly refused to divulge, -O'Connor granted him the permission which he desired, and both left the -building together. O'Connor pursued his way to the "Cock and Anchor," -where, restored to his chamber and to solitude, he abandoned himself -once more to the current of his wayward thoughts. - -Our friend Larry, however, was no sooner disengaged from his master, -than he began, at his utmost speed, to thread the narrow and -complicated lanes and streets which lay between the haunt of profligacy -which we have just described, and the eastern extremity of the city. -After an interrupted run of nearly half an hour through pitchy dark and -narrow streets, he emerged into Stephen's Green; at the eastern side of -which, among other buildings of lesser note, there then stood, and -perhaps (with a new face, and some slight external changes) still -stands, a large and handsome mansion. Toward this building, conspicuous -in the distance by the red glare of dozens of links and torches which -flared and flashed outside, and by the gay light streaming from its -many windows, Larry made his way. Too eager and hurried to pass along -the sides of the square by the common road, he clambered over the -broken wall which surrounded it, plunged through the broad trench, and -ran among the deep grass and rank weeds, now heavy with the dews of -night; over the broad area he pursued his way, startling the quiet -cattle from their midnight slumbers, and hastening rather than abating -his speed, as he drew near to the termination of his hurried mission. -As he approached, the long dark train of carriages, every here and -there lighted by some flaming link still unextinguished, and surrounded -by crowds of idle footmen, sufficiently indicated the scene of Lady -Stukely's hospitalities. In a moment Larry had again crossed the fences -which enclosed the square, and passing the broad road among the -carriages, chairs, and lackeys, he sprang up the steps of the house, -and thundered lustily at the hall-door. It was opened by a gruff and -corpulent porter with a red face and majestic demeanour, who, having -learned from Larry that he had an important message for Mr. Henry -Ashwoode, desired him, in as few words as possible, to step into the -hall. The official then swung the massive door to, rolled himself into -his well-cushioned throne, and having scanned Larry's proportions for a -minute or two with one eye, which he kept half open for such purposes, -he ejaculated-- - -"Mr. Finley, I say, Mr. Finley, here's one with a message upwards." -Having thus delivered himself, he shut down his open eye, screwed his -eyebrows, and became absorbed in abstruse meditation. Meanwhile, Mr. -Finley, in person arrayed in a rich livery, advanced languidly toward -Larry Toole, throwing into his face a dreamy and supercilious -expression, while with one hand he faintly fanned himself with a white -pocket handkerchief. - -"Your most obedient servant to command," drawled the footman, as he -advanced. "What can I do, my good soul, to _obleege_ you?" - -"I only want to see the young master--that's young Mr. Ashwoode," -replied Larry, "for one minute, and that's all." - -The footman gazed upon him for a moment with a languid smile, and -observed in the same sleepy tone, "Absolutely impossible--_amposseeble_, -as they say at the Pallais Royal." - -"But, blur an' agers," exclaimed Larry, "it's a matther iv life an' -death, robbery an' murdher." - -"Bloody murder!" echoed the man in a sweet, low voice, and with a stare -of fashionable abstraction. - -"Well, tear an' 'oun's," cried Larry, almost beside himself with -impatience, "if you won't bring him down to me, will you even as much -as carry him a message?" - -"To say the truth, and upon my honour," replied the man, "I can't -engage to climb up stairs just now, they are so devilish fatiguing. -Don't you find them so?" - -The question was thrown out in that vacant, inattentive way which seems -to dispense with an answer. - -"By my soul!" rejoined Larry, almost crying with vexation, "it's a hard -case. Do you mane to tell me, you'll neither bring him down to me nor -carry him up a message?" - -"You have, my excellent fellow," replied the footman, placidly, -"precisely conveyed my meaning." - -"By the hokey!" cried Larry, "you're fairly breaking my heart. In the -divil's name, can you as much as let me stop here till he's comin' -down?" - -"Absolutely impossible," replied the footman, in the same dulcet and -deliberate tone. "It is indeed _amposseeble_, as the Parisians have it. -You _must_ be aware, my good old soul, that you're in a positive -pickle. You are, pardon me, my excellent friend, very dirty and very -disgusting. You must therefore go out in a few moments into the fresh -air." At any other moment, such a speech would have infallibly provoked -Mr. Toole's righteous and most rigorous vengeance; but he was now too -completely absorbed in the mission which he had undertaken to suffer -personal considerations to have a place in his bosom. - -"Will you, then," he ejaculated desperately, "will you as much as give -him a message yourself, when he's comin' down?" - -"What message?" drawled the lackey. - -"Tell him, for the love of God, to take the _old_ road home, by the -seven sallies," replied Larry. "Will you give him that message, if it -isn't too long?" - -"I have a wretched memory for messages," observed the footman, as he -leisurely opened the door--"a perfect sieve: but should he catch my eye -as he passes, I'll endeavour, upon my honour; good night--adieu!" - -As he thus spoke, Larry had reached the threshold of the door, which -observing, the polished footman, with a _nonchalant_ and easy air, -slammed the hall-door, thereby administering upon Larry's back, -shoulders, and elbows, such a bang as to cause Mr. Toole to descend the -flight of steps at a pace much more marvellous to the spectators than -agreeable to himself. Muttering a bitter curse upon his exquisite -acquaintance, Larry took his stand among the expectants in the street; -there resolved to wait and watch for young Ashwoode, and to give him -the warning which so nearly concerned his safety. - -Meanwhile, Lady Stukely's drawing-rooms were crowded by the gay, the -fashionable, and the frivolous, of all ages. Young Ashwoode stood -behind his wealthy hostess's chair, while she played quadrille, scarce -knowing whether she won or lost, for Henry Ashwoode had never been so -fascinating before. Lady Stukely was a delicate, die-away lady, not -very far from sixty; the natural blush upon her nose outblazoned the -rouge upon her cheeks; several very long teeth--"ivory and ebon -alternately"--peeped roguishly from beneath her upper lip, which her -ladyship had a playful trick of screwing down, to conceal them--a trick -which made her ladyship's smile rather a surprising than an attractive -exhibition. It is but justice, however, to admit that she had a pair of -very tolerable eyes, with which she executed the most masterly -evolutions. For the rest, there having existed a very considerable -disparity in years between herself and her dear deceased, Sir Charles -Stukely, who had expired at the mature age of ninety, more than a year -before, she conceived herself still a very young, artless, and -interesting girl; and under this happy hallucination she was more than -half inclined to return in good earnest the disinterested affection of -Henry Ashwoode. - -There, too, was old Lord Aspenly, who had, but two days before, -solicited and received Sir Richard Ashwoode's permission to pay his -court to his beautiful daughter, Mary. There, jerking and shrugging and -grimacing, he hobbled through the rooms, all wrinkles and rappee; -bandying compliments and repartees, flirting and fooling, and beyond -measure enchanted with himself, while every interval in frivolity and -noise was filled up with images of his approaching nuptials and -intended bride, while she, poor girl, happily unconscious of all their -plans, was spared, for that night, the pangs and struggles which were -hereafter but too severely to try her heart. - -'Twere needless to enumerate noble peers, whose very titles are now -unknown--poets, who alas! were mortal--men of promise, who performed -nothing--clever young men, who grew into stupid old ones--and -millionaires, whose money perished with them; we shall not, therefore, -weary the reader by describing Lady Stukely's guests; let it suffice to -mention that Henry Ashwoode left the rooms with young Pigwiggynne, of -Bolton's regiment of dragoons, and one of Lord Wharton's aides-de-camp. -This circumstance is here recorded because it had an effect in -producing the occurrences which we have to relate by-and-by; for young -Pigwiggynne having partaken somewhat freely of Lady Stukely's wines, -and being unusually exhilarated, came forth from the hall-door to -assist Ashwoode in procuring a chair, which he did with a good deal -more noise and blasphemy than was strictly necessary. Our friend Larry -Toole, who had patiently waited the egress of his _quondam_ young -master, no sooner beheld him than he hastened to accost him, but -Pigwiggynne being, as we have said, in high spirits and unusual good -humour, cut short poor Larry's address by jocularly knocking him on the -head with a heavy walking-cane--a pleasantry which laid that person -senseless upon the pavement. The humorist passed on with an -exhilarating crow, after the manner of a cock; and had not a -matter-of-fact chairman drawn Mr. Toole from among the coach-wheels -where the joke had happened to lay him, we might have been saved the -trouble of recording the subsequent history of that very active member -of society. Meanwhile, young Ashwoode was conveyed in a chair to a -neighbouring fashionable hotel, where, having changed his suit, and -again equipped himself for the road, he mounted his horse, and followed -by his treacherous groom, set out at a brisk pace upon his hazardous, -and as it turned out, eventful night-ride toward the manor of Morley -Court. - - - - -CHAPTER IX. - -THE "BLEEDING HORSE"--HOLLANDS AND PIPES FOR TWO--EVERY BULLET HAS ITS -BILLET. - - -At the time in which the events that we have undertaken to record took -place, there stood at the southern extremity of the city, near the -point at which Camden Street now terminates, a small, old-fashioned -building, something between an ale-house and an inn. It occupied the -roadside by no means unpicturesquely; one gable jutted into the road, -with a projecting window, which stood out from the building like a -glass box held together by a massive frame of wood; and commanded by -this projecting gable, and a few yards in retreat, but facing the road, -was the inn door, over which hung a painted panel, representing a white -horse, out of whose neck there spouted a crimson cascade, and -underneath, in large letters, the traveller was informed that this was -the genuine old "Bleeding Horse." Old enough, in all conscience, it -appeared to be, for the tiled roof, except where the ivy clustered over -it, was crowded with weeds of many kinds, and the boughs of the huge -trees which embowered it had cracked and shattered one of the cumbrous -chimney-stacks, and in many places it was evident that but for the -timely interposition of the saw and the axe, the giant limbs of the old -timber would, in the gradual increase of years, have forced their way -through the roof and the masonry itself--a tendency sufficiently -indicated by sundry indentures and rude repairs in those parts of the -building most exposed to such casualties. Upon the night in which the -events that are recorded in the immediately preceding chapters -occurred, two horsemen rode up to this inn, and leisurely entering the -stable yard, dismounted, and gave their horses in charge to a ragged -boy who acted as hostler, directing him with a few very impressive -figures of rhetoric, on no account to loosen girth or bridle, or to -suffer the beasts to stir one yard from the spot where they stood. This -matter settled, they entered the house. Both were muffled; the one--a -large, shambling fellow--wore a capacious riding-coat; the other--a -small, wiry man--was wrapped in a cloak; both wore their hats pressed -down over their brows, and had drawn their mufflers up, so as to -conceal the lower part of the face. The lesser of the two men, leaving -his companion in the passage, opened a door, within which were a few -fellows drowsily toping, and one or two asleep. In a chair by the fire -sat Tony Bligh, the proprietor of the "Bleeding Horse," a middle-aged -man, rather corpulent, as pale as tallow, and with a sly, ugly squint. -The little man in the cloak merely introduced his head and shoulders, -and beckoned with his thumb. The signal, though scarcely observed by -one other of the occupants of the room, was instantly and in silence -obeyed by the landlord, who, casting one uneasy glance round, glided -across the floor, and was in the passage almost as soon as the -gentleman in the cloak. - -"Here, Tony, boy," whispered the man, as the innkeeper approached, -"fetch us a pint of Hollands, a couple of pipes, and a glim; but first -turn the key in this door here, and come yourself, do ye mind?" - -Tony squeezed the speaker's arm in token of acquiescence, and turning a -key gently in the lock, he noiselessly opened the door which Brimstone -Bill had indicated, and the two cavaliers strode into the dark and -vacant chamber. Brimstone walked to the window, pushed open the -casement, and leaned out. The beautiful moon was shining above the old -and tufted trees which lined the quiet road; he looked up and down the -shaded avenue, but nothing was moving upon it, save the varying shadows -as the night wind swung the branches to and fro. He listened, but no -sound reached his ears, excepting the rustling and moaning of the -boughs, through which the breeze was fitfully soughing. - -Scarcely had he drawn back again into the room, when Tony returned with -the refreshments which the gentleman had ordered, and with a dark -lantern enclosing a lighted candle. - -"Right, old cove," said Bill. "I see you hav'n't forgot the trick of -the trade. Who are your _pals_ inside?" - -"Three of them sleep here to-night," replied Tony. "They're all quiet -coves enough, such as doesn't hear nor see any more than they ought." - -The two fellows filled a pipe each, and lighted them at the lantern. - -"What mischief are you after now, Bill?" inquired the host, with a -peculiar leer. - -"Why should _I_ be after any mischief," replied Brimstone jocularly, -"any more than a sucking dove, eh? Do I look like mischief to-night, -old tickle-pitcher--do I?" - -He accompanied the question with a peculiar grin, which mine host -answered by a prolonged wink of no less peculiar significance. - -"Well, Tony boy," rejoined Bill, "maybe I _am_ and maybe I -_ain't_--that's the way: but mind, you did not see a stim of me, nor of -_him_, to-night (glancing at his comrade), nor ever, for that matter. -But you did see two ill-looking fellows not a bit like us; and I have a -notion that these two chaps will manage to get into a sort of shindy -before an hour's over, and then _mizzle_ at once; and if all goes well, -your hand shall be crossed with gold to-night." - -"Bill, Bill," said the landlord, with a smile of exquisite relish, and -drawing his hand coaxingly over the man's forehead, so as to smooth the -curls of his periwig nearly into his eyes, "you're just the same old -dodger--you are the devil's own bird--you have not cast a feather." - -It is hard to say how long this tender scene might have continued, had -not the other ruffian knocked his knuckles sharply on the table, and -cried-- - -"Hist! brother--_chise_ it--enough fooling--I hear a horse-shoe on the -road." - -All held their breath, and remained motionless for a time. The fellow -was, however, mistaken. Bill again advanced to the window, and gazed -intently through the long vista of trees. - -"There's not a bat stirring," said he, returning to the table, and -filling out successively two glasses of spirits, he emptied them both. -"Meanwhile, Tony," continued he, "get back to your company. Some of the -fellows may be poking their noses into this place. If you don't hear -_from_ me, at all events you'll hear of me before an hour. Hop the -twig, boy, and keep all hard in for a bit--skip." - -With a roguish grin and a shake of the fist, honest Tony, not caring to -dispute the commands of his friend, of whose temper he happened to know -something, stealthily withdrew from the room, where we, too, shall for -a time leave these worthy gentlemen of the road vigilantly awaiting the -approach of their victim. - - -Larry Toole had no sooner recovered his senses--which was in less than -a minute--than he at once betook himself to the "Cock and Anchor," -resolved, as the last resource, to inform O'Connor of the fact that an -attack was meditated. Accordingly, he hastened with very little -ceremony into the presence of his master, told him that young Ashwoode -was to be waylaid upon the road, near the "Bleeding Horse," and -implored him, without the loss of a moment, to ride in that direction, -with a view, if indeed it might not already be too late, to intercept -his passage, and forewarn him of the danger which awaited him. - -Without waiting to ask one useless question, O'Connor, before five -minutes were passed, was mounted on his trusty horse, and riding at a -hard pace through the dark streets towards the point of danger. - -Meanwhile, young Ashwoode, followed by his mounted attendant, proceeded -at a brisk trot in the direction of the manor; his brain filled with a -thousand busy thoughts and schemes, among which, not the least -important, were sundry floating calculations as to the probable and -possible amount of Lady Stukely's jointure, as well as some conjectures -respecting the _maximum_ duration of her ladyship's life. Involved in -these pleasing ruminations, sometimes crossed by no less agreeable -recollections, in which the triumphs of vanity and the successes of the -gaming-table had their share, he had now reached that shadowy and -silent part of the road at which stood the little inn, embowered in the -great old trees, and peeping forth with a sort of humble and friendly -aspect, but ill-according with the dangerous designs it served to -shelter. - -Here the servant, falling somewhat further behind, brought his horse -close under the projecting window of the inn as he passed, and with a -sharp cut of his whip gave the concerted signal. Before sixty seconds -had elapsed, two well-mounted cavaliers were riding at a hard gallop in -their wake. At this headlong pace, the foremost of the two horsemen had -passed Ashwoode by some dozen yards, when, checking his horse so -suddenly as to throw him back upon his haunches, he wheeled him round, -and plunging the spurs deep into his flanks, with two headlong springs, -he dashed him madly upon the young man's steed, hurling the beast and -his rider to the earth. Tremendous as was the fall, young Ashwoode, -remarkable alike for personal courage and activity, was in a moment -upon his feet, with his sword drawn, ready to receive the assault of -the ruffian. - -"Let go your skiver--drop it, you greenhorn," cried the fellow, -hoarsely, as he wheeled round his plunging horse, and drew a pistol -from the holster, "or, by the eternal ----, I'll blow your head into -dust!" - -Young Ashwoode attempted to seize the reins of the fellow's horse, and -made a desperate pass at the rider. - -"Take it, then," cried the fellow, thrusting the muzzle of the pistol -into Ashwoode's face and drawing the trigger. Fortunately for Ashwoode, -the pistol missed fire, and almost at the same moment the rapid clang -of a horse's hoofs, accompanied by the loud shout of menace, broke -startlingly upon his ear. Happy was this interruption for Henry -Ashwoode, for, stunned and dizzy from the shock, he at that moment -tottered, and in the next was prostrate upon the ground. "Blowed, by -----!" cried the villain, furiously, as the unwelcome sounds reached -his ears, and dashing the spurs into his horse, he rode at a furious -gallop down the road towards the country. This scene occupied scarce -six seconds in the acting. Brimstone Bill, who had but a moment before -come up to the succour of his comrade, also heard the rapid approach of -the galloping hoofs upon the road; he knew that before he could count -fifty seconds the new comer would have arrived. A few moments, however, -he thought he could spare--important moments they turned out to be to -one of the party. Bill kept his eye steadily fixed upon the point some -three or four hundred yards distant at which he knew the horseman whose -approach was announced must first appear. - -In that brief moment, the cool-headed villain had rapidly calculated -the danger of the groom's committing his accomplices through want of -coolness and presence of mind, should he himself, as was not unlikely, -become suspected. The groom's pistols were still loaded, and he had -taken no part in the conflict. Brimstone Bill fixed a stern glance upon -his companion while all these and other thoughts flashed like lightning -across his brain. - -"Darby," said he, hurriedly, to the man who sat half-stupefied in the -saddle close beside him, "blaze off the lead towels--crack them off, I -say." - -Bill impatiently leaned forward, and himself drew the pistols from the -groom's saddle-bow; he fired one of them in the air--he cocked the -other. "This dolt will play the devil with us all," thought he, looking -with a peculiar expression at the bewildered servant. With one hand he -grasped him by the collar to steady his aim, and with the other, -suddenly thrusting the pistol to his ear, and drawing the trigger, he -blew the wretched man's head into fragments like a potsherd; and -wheeling his horse's head about, he followed his comrade pell-mell, -beating the sparks in showers from the stony road at every plunge. - -All this occurred in fewer moments than it has taken us lines to -describe it; and before our friend Brimstone Bill had secured the odds -which his safety required, O'Connor was thundering at a furious gallop -within less than a hundred yards of him. Bill saw that his pursuer was -better mounted than he--to escape, therefore, by a fair race was out of -the question. His resolution was quickly taken. By a sudden and -powerful effort he reined in his horse at a single pull, and, with one -rearing wheel, brought him round upon his antagonist; at the same time, -drawing one of the large pistols from the saddle-bow, he rested it -deliberately upon his bridle-arm, and fired at his pursuer, now within -twenty yards of him. The ball passed so close to O'Connor's head that -his ear rang shrilly with the sound of it for hours after. They had now -closed; the highwayman drew his second pistol from the holster, and -each fired at the same instant. O'Connor's shot was well directed--it -struck his opponent in the bridle-arm, a little below the shoulder, -shattering the bone to splinters. With a hoarse shriek of agony, the -fellow, scarce knowing what he did, forced the spurs into his horse's -sides; and the animal reared, wheeled, and bore its rider at a reckless -speed in the direction which his companion had followed. - -It was well for him that the shot, which at the same moment he had -discharged, had not been altogether misdirected. O'Connor, indeed, -escaped unscathed, but the ball struck his horse between the eyes, and -piercing the brain, the poor beast reared upright and fell dead upon -the road. Extricating himself from the saddle, O'Connor returned to the -spot where young Ashwoode and the servant still lay. Stunned and dizzy -with the fall which he had had, the excitement of actual conflict was -no sooner over, than Ashwoode sank back into a state of insensibility. -In this condition O'Connor found him, pale as death, and apparently -lifeless. Raising him against the grassy bank at the roadside, and -having cast some water from a pool close by into his face, he saw him -speedily recover. - -"Mr. O'Connor," said Ashwoode, as soon as he was sufficiently restored, -"you have saved my life--how can I thank you?" - -"Spare your thanks, sir," replied O'Connor, haughtily; "for any man I -would have done as much--for anyone bearing your name I would do much -more. Are you hurt, sir?" - -"O'Connor, I have done you much injustice," said the young man, -betrayed for the moment into something like genuine feeling. "You must -forget and forgive it--I know your feelings respecting others of my -family--henceforward I will be your friend--do not refuse my hand." - -"Henry Ashwoode," replied O'Connor, "I take your hand--gladly -forgetting all past causes of resentment--but I want no vows of -friendship, which to-morrow you may regret. Act with regard to me -henceforward as if this night had not been--for I tell you truly again, -that I would have done as much for the meanest peasant breathing as I -have done to-night for you; and once more I pray you tell me, are you -much hurt?" - -"Nothing, nothing," replied Ashwoode--"merely a fall such as I have had -a thousand times after the hounds. It has made my head swim -confoundedly; but I'll soon be steady. What, in the meantime, has -become of honest Darby? If I mistake not, I see his horse browsing -there by the roadside." - -A few steps showed them what seemed a bundle of clothes lying heaped -upon the road; they approached it--it was the body of the servant. - -"Get up, Darby--get up, man," cried Ashwoode, at the same time pressing -the prostrate figure with his boot. It had been lying with the back -uppermost, and in a half-kneeling attitude; it now, however, rolled -round, and disclosed, in the bright moonlight, the hideous aspect of -the murdered man--the head a mere mass of ragged flesh and bone, -shapeless and blackened, and hollow as a shell. Horror-struck at the -sight, they turned in silence away, and having secured the two horses, -they both mounted and rode together back to the little inn, where, -having procured assistance, the body of the wretched servant was -deposited. Young Ashwoode and O'Connor then parted, each on his -respective way. - - - - -CHAPTER X. - -THE MASTER OF MORLEY COURT AND THE LITTLE GENTLEMAN IN -BOTTLE-GREEN--THE BARONET'S DAUGHTER--AND THE TWO CONSPIRATORS. - - -Encounters such as those described in the last chapter were, it is -needless to say, much more common a hundred and thirty years ago than -they are now. In fact, it was unsafe alike in town and country to stir -abroad after dark in any district affording wealth and aristocracy -sufficient to tempt the enterprise of _professional_ gentlemen. If -London and its environs, with all their protective advantages, were, -nevertheless, so infested with desperadoes as to render its very -streets and most frequented ways perilous to pass through during the -hours of night, it is hardly to be wondered at that Dublin, the capital -of a rebellious and semi-barbarous country--haunted by hungry -adventurers, who had lost everything in the revolutionary wars--with a -most notoriously ineffective police, and a rash and dissolute -aristocracy, with a great deal more money and a great deal less caution -than usually fall to the lot of our gentry of the present day--should -have been pre-eminently the scene of midnight violence and adventure. -The continued frequency of such occurrences had habituated men to think -very lightly of them; and the feeble condition of the civil executive -almost uniformly secured the impunity of the criminal. We shall not, -therefore, weary the reader by inviting his attention to the formal -investigation which was forthwith instituted; it is enough for all -purposes to record that, like most other investigations of the kind at -that period, it ended in--just nothing. - -Instead, then, of attending inquests and reading depositions, we must -here request the gentle reader to accompany us for a brief space into -the dressing-room of Sir Richard Ashwoode, where, upon the morning -following the events which in our last we have detailed, the -aristocratic invalid lay extended upon a well-cushioned sofa, arrayed -in a flowered silk dressing-gown, lined with crimson, and with a velvet -cap upon his head. He was apparently considerably beyond sixty--a -slightly and rather an elegantly made man, with thin, anxious features, -and a sallow complexion: his head rested upon his hand, and his eyes -wandered with an air of discontented abstraction over the fair -landscape which his window commanded. Before him was placed a small -table, with all the appliances of an elegant breakfast; and two or -three books and pamphlets were laid within reach of his hand. A little -way from him sate his beautiful child, Mary Ashwoode, paler than usual, -though not less lovely--for the past night had been to her one of -fevered excitement, griefs, and fears. There she sate, with her work -before her, and while her small hands plied their appointed task, her -soft, dark eyes wandered often with sweet looks of affection toward the -reclining form of that old haughty and selfish man, her father. - -The silence had continued long, for the old man's temper might not, -perhaps, have brooked an interruption of his ruminations, although, if -the sour and spited expression of his face might be trusted, his -thoughts were not the most pleasant in the world. The train of -reflection, whatever it might have been, was interrupted by the -entrance of a servant, bearing in his hand a note, with which he -approached Sir Richard, but with that air of nervous caution with which -one might be supposed to present a sandwich to a tiger. - -"Why the devil, sirrah, do you pound the floor so!" cried Sir Richard, -turning shortly upon the man as he advanced, and speaking in sharp and -bitter accents. "What's that you've got?--a note?--take it back, you -blockhead--I'll not touch it--it's some rascally scrap of dunning -paper--get out of my sight, sirrah." - -"An it please you, sir," replied the man, deferentially, "it comes from -Lord Aspenly." - -"Eh! oh! ah!" exclaimed Sir Richard, raising himself upon the sofa, and -extending his hand with alacrity. "Here, give it to me; so you may go, -sir--but stay, does a messenger wait?--ask particularly from me how his -lordship does, do you mind? and let the man have refreshment; go, -sirrah, go--begone!" - -Sir Richard then took the note, broke the seal, and read the contents -through, evidently with considerable satisfaction. Having completed the -perusal of the note twice over, with a smile of unusual gratification, -tinctured, perhaps, with the faintest possible admixture of ridicule, -Sir Richard turned toward his daughter with more real cheerfulness than -she had seen him exhibit for years before. - -"Mary, my good child," said he, "this note announces the arrival here, -on to-morrow, of my old, or rather, my most _particular_ friend, Lord -Aspenly; he will pass some days with us--days which we must all -endeavour to make as agreeable to him as possible. You look--you _do_ -look extremely well and pretty to-day; come here and kiss me, child." - -Overjoyed at this unwonted manifestation of affection, the girl cast -her work away, and with a beating heart and light step, she ran to her -father's side, threw her arms about his neck, and kissed him again and -again, in happy unconsciousness of all that was passing in the mind of -him she so fondly caressed. - -The door again opened, and the same servant once more presented -himself. - -"What do you come to plague me about _now_?" inquired the master, -sharply; recovering, in an instant, his usual peevish manner--"What's -this you've got?--what _is_ it?" - -"A card, sir," replied the man, at the same time advancing the salver -on which it lay within reach of the languid hand of his master. - -"Mr. Audley--Mr. Audley," repeated Sir Richard, as he read the card; "I -never heard of the man before, in the course of my life; I know nothing -about him--nothing--and care as little. Pray what is _he_ pestering -about?--what does he want here?" - -"He requests permission to see you, sir," replied the man. - -"Tell him, with my compliments, to go to hell!" rejoined the -invalid;--"Or, stay," he added, after a moment's pause--"what does he -look like?--is he well or ill-dressed?--old or young?" - -"A middle-aged man, sir; rather well-dressed," answered the servant. - -"He did not mention his business?" asked Sir Richard. - -"No, sir," replied the man; "but he said that it was very important, -and that you would be glad to see him." - -"Show him up, then," said Sir Richard, decisively. - -The servant accordingly bowed and departed. - -"A stranger!--a gentleman!--and come to me upon important and pleasant -business," muttered the baronet, musingly--"important and -pleasant!--Can my old, cross-grained brother-in-law have made a -favourable disposition of his property, and--and--died!--that were, -indeed, news worth hearing; too much luck to happen me, though--no, no, -it can't be--it can't be." - -Nevertheless, he thought it _might_ be; and thus believing, he awaited -the entrance of his visitor with extreme impatience. This suspense, -however, was not of long duration; the door opened, and the servant -announced Mr. Audley--a dapper little gentleman, in grave habiliments -of bottle-green cloth; in person somewhat short and stout; and in -countenance rather snub-featured and rubicund, but bearing an -expression in which good-humour was largely blended with -self-importance. This little person strutted briskly into the room. - -"Hem!--Sir Richard Ashwoode, I presume?" exclaimed the visitor, with a -profound bow, which threatened to roll his little person up like an -armadillo. - -Sir Richard returned the salute by a slight nod and a gracious wave of -the hand. - -"You will excuse my not rising to receive you, Mr. Audley," said the -baronet, "when I inform you that I am tied here by the gout; pray, sir, -take a chair. Mary, remove your work to the room underneath, and lay -the ebony wand within my reach; I will tap upon the floor when I want -you." - -The girl accordingly glided from the room. - -"We are now alone, sir," continued Sir Richard, after a short pause. "I -fear, sir--I know not why--that your business has relation to my -brother; is he--is he _ill_?" - -"Faith, sir," replied the little man bluntly, "I never heard of the -gentleman before in my life." - -"I breathe again, sir; you have relieved me extremely," said the -baronet, swallowing his disappointment with a ghastly smile; "and now, -sir, that you have thus considerately and expeditiously dispelled what -were, thank heaven! my groundless alarms, may I ask you to what -accident I am indebted for the singular good fortune of making your -acquaintance--in short, sir, I would fain learn the object of your -visit." - -"That you shall, sir--that you shall, in a trice," replied the little -gentleman in green. "I'm a plain man, my dear Sir Richard, and love to -come to the point at once--ahem! The story, to be sure, is a long one, -but don't be afraid, I'll abridge it--I'll abridge it." He drew his -watch from his fob, and laying it upon the table before him, he -continued--"It now wants, my dear sir, precisely seven minutes of -eleven, by London time; I shall limit myself to half-an-hour." - -"I fear, Mr. Audley, you should find me a very unsatisfactory listener -to a narrative of half-an-hour's length," observed Sir Richard, drily; -"in fact, I am not in a condition to make any such exertion; if you -will obligingly condense what you have to say into a few minutes, you -will confer a favour upon me, and lighten your own task considerably." -Sir Richard then indignantly took a pinch of snuff, and muttered, -almost audibly--"A vulgar, audacious, old boor." - -"Well, then, we must try--we must try, my dear sir," replied the little -gentleman, wiping his face with his handkerchief, by way of -preparation--"I'll just sum up the leading points, and leave -particulars for a more favourable opportunity; in fact, I'll hold over -_all_ details to our next merry meeting--our next _tête-à-tête_--when I -hope we shall meet upon a pleasanter _footing_--your gouty toes, you -know--d'ye take me? Ha! ha! excuse the joke--ha! ha! ha!" - -Sir Richard elevated his eyebrows, and looked upon the little gentleman -with a gaze of stern and petrifying severity during this burst of -merriment. - -"Well, my dear sir," continued Mr. Audley, again wiping his face, "to -proceed to business. You have learned my name from my card, but beyond -my name you know nothing about me." - -"_Nothing whatever_, sir," replied Sir Richard, with profound emphasis. - -"Just so; well, then, you _shall_," rejoined the little gentleman. "I -have been a long time settled in France--I brought over every penny I -had in the world there--in short, sir, something more than twelve -thousand pounds. Well, sir, what did I do with it? There's the -question. Your gay young fellows would have thrown it away at the -gaming table, or squandered it on gold lace and velvets--or again, your -prudent, plodding fellow would have lived quietly on the interest and -left the principal to vegetate; but what did I do? Why, sir, not caring -for idleness or show, I threw some of it into the wine trade, and with -the rest I kept hammering at the funds, winning twice for every once I -lost. In fact, sir, I prospered--the money rolled in, sir, and in due -course I became rich, sir--rich--_warm_, as the phrase goes." - -"Very _warm_, indeed, sir," replied Sir Richard, observing that his -visitor again wiped his face--"but allow me to ask, beyond the general -interest which I may be presumed to feel in the prosperity of the whole -human race, how on earth does all this concern _me_?" - -"Ay, ay, there's the question," replied the stranger, looking -unutterably knowing--"that's the puzzle. But all in good time; you -shall hear it in a twinkling. Now, being well to do in the world, you -may ask me, why do not I look out for a wife? I answer you simply, that -having escaped matrimony hitherto, I have no wish to be taken in the -noose at these years; and now, before I go further, what do you take my -age to be--how old do I look?" - -The little man squared himself, cocked his head on one side, and looked -inquisitively at Sir Richard from the corner of his eye. The patience -of the baronet was nigh giving way outright. - -"Sir," replied he, in no very gracious tones, "you may be the -'Wandering Jew,' for anything I either know or see to the contrary." - -"Ha! good," rejoined the little man, with imperturbable good humour, "I -see, Sir Richard, you are a wag--the Wandering Jew--ha, ha! no--not -_that_ quite. The fact is, sir, I am in my sixty-seventh year--you -would not have thought that--eh?" - -Sir Richard made no reply whatever. - -"You'll acknowledge, sir, that _that_ is not exactly the age at which -to talk of hearts and darts, and gay gold rings," continued the -communicative gentleman in the bottle-green. "I know very well that no -young woman, of her own free choice, could take a liking to _me_." - -"Quite impossible," with desperate emphasis, rejoined Sir Richard, upon -whose ear the sentence grated unpleasantly; for Lord Aspenly's letter -(in which "hearts and darts" were profusely noticed) lay before him on -the table; "but once more, sir, may I implore of you to tell me the -drift of all this?" - -"The drift of it--to be sure I will--in due time," replied Mr. Audley. -"You see, then, sir, that having no family of my own, and not having any -intention of taking a wife, I have resolved to leave my money to a fine -young fellow, the son of an old friend; his name is O'Connor--Edmond -O'Connor--a fine, handsome, young dog, and worthy to fill any place in -all the world--a high-spirited, good-hearted, dashing young rascal--you -know something of him, Sir Richard?" - -The baronet nodded a supercilious assent; his attention was now really -enlisted. - -"Well, Sir Richard," continued the visitor, "I have wormed out of -him--for I have a knack of my own of getting at people's secrets, no -matter how close they keep them, d'ye see--that he is over head and -ears in love with your daughter--I believe the young lady who just -left the room on my arrival; and indeed, if such is the case, I -commend the young scoundrel's taste; the lady is truly worthy of all -admiration--and----" - -"Pray, sir, proceed as briefly as may be to the object of your -conversation with me," interrupted Sir Richard, drily. - -"Well, then, to return--I understand, sir," continued Audley, "that -you, suspecting something of the kind, and believing the young fellow -to be penniless, very naturally, and, indeed, I may say, very -prudently, and very sensibly, opposed yourself to the thing from the -commencement, and obliged the sly young dog to discontinue his -visits;--well, sir, matters stood so, until _I_--cunning little -_I_--step in, and change the whole posture of affairs--and how? Marry, -thus, I come hither and ask your daughter's hand for _him_, upon these -terms following--that I undertake to convey to him, at once, lands to -the value of one thousand pounds a year, and that at my death I will -leave him, with the exception of a few small legacies, sole heir to all -I have; and on his wedding-day give him and his lady their choice of -either of two chateaux, the worst of them a worthy residence for a -nobleman." - -"Are these chateaux in Spain?" inquired Sir Richard, sneeringly. - -"No, no, sir," replied the little man, with perfect guilelessness; -"both in Flanders." - -"Well, sir," said Sir Richard Ashwoode, raising himself almost to a -sitting posture, and preluding his observations with two unusually -large pinches of snuff, "I have heard you very patiently throughout a -statement, all of which was fatiguing, and much of which was positively -disagreeable to me: and I trust that what I have now to say will render -it wholly unnecessary for you and me ever again to converse upon the -same topic. Of Mr. O'Connor, whom, in spite of this strange repetition -of an already rejected application, I believe to be a spirited young -man, I shall say nothing more than that, from the bottom of my heart I -wish him every success of every kind, so long as he confines his -aspirations to what is suitable to his own position in society; and, -consequently, conducive to his own comfort and respectability. With -respect to his very flattering vicarious proposal, I must assure you -that I do not suspect Miss Ashwoode of any inclination to descend from -the station to which her birth and fortune entitle her; and if I did -suspect it, I should feel it to be my imperative duty to resist, by -every means in my power, the indulgence of any such wayward caprice; -but lest, after what I have said, any doubt should rest upon your mind -as to the value of these obstacles, it may not be amiss to add that my -daughter, Miss Ashwoode, is actually promised in marriage to a -gentleman of exalted rank and great fortune, and who is, in all -respects, an unexceptionable connection. I have the honour, sir, to -wish you good-morning." - -"The devil!" exclaimed the little gentleman, as soon as his utter -amazement allowed him to take breath. A long pause ensued, during which -he twice inflated his cheeks to their utmost tension, and puffed the -air forth with a prolonged whistle of desolate wonder. Recollecting -himself, however, he hastily arose, wished Sir Richard good-day, and -walked down stairs, and out of the house, all the way muttering, "God -bless my body and soul--a thousand pounds a year--the devil--_can_ it -be?--body o' me--refuse a thousand a year--what the deuce is he looking -for?"--and such other ejaculations; stamping all the while emphatically -upon every stair as he descended, to give vent to his indignation, as -well as impressiveness to his remarks. - -Something like a smile for a moment lit up the withered features of the -old baronet; he leaned back luxuriously upon his sofa, and while he -listened with delighted attention to the stormy descent of his visitor, -he administered to its proper receptacle, with prolonged relish, two -several pinches of rappee. - -"So, so," murmured he, complacently, "I suspect I have seen the last of -honest Mr. Audley--a little surprised and a little angry he does appear -to be--dear me!--he stamps fearfully--what a very strange creature it -is." - -Having made this reflection, Sir Richard continued to listen pleasantly -until the sounds were lost in the distance; he then rang a small -hand-bell which lay upon the table, and a servant entered. - -"Tell Mistress Mary," said the baronet, "that I shall not want her just -now, and desire Mr. Henry to come hither instantly--begone, sirrah." - -The servant disappeared, and in a few moments young Ashwoode, looking -unusually pale and haggard, and dressed in a morning suit, entered the -chamber. Having saluted his father with the formality which the usages -of the time prescribed, and having surveyed himself for a moment at the -large mirror which stood in the room, and having adjusted thereat the -tie of his lace cravat, he inquired,-- - -"Pray, sir, who was that piece of 'too, too solid flesh' that passed me -scarce a minute since upon the stairs, pounding all the way with the -emphasis of a battering ram? As far as I could judge, the thing had -just been discharged from your room." - -"You have happened, for once in your life, to talk with relation to the -subject to which I would call your attention," said Sir Richard. "The -person whom you describe with your wonted facetiousness, has just been -talking with me; his name is Audley; I never saw him till this morning, -and he came coolly to make proposals, in young O'Connor's name, for -your sister's hand, promising to settle some scurvy chateaux, heaven -knows where, upon the happy pair." - -"Well, sir, and what followed?" asked the young man. - -"Why simply, sir," replied his father, "that I gave him the answer -which sent him stamping down stairs, as you saw him. I laughed in his -face, and desired him to go about his business." - -"Very good, indeed, sir," observed young Ashwoode. - -"There is no occasion for commentary, sir," continued Sir Richard. -"Attend to what I have to say: a nobleman of large fortune has -requested my permission to make his suit to your sister--_that_ I have, -of course, granted; he will arrive here to-morrow, to make a stay of -some days. I am resolved the thing _shall_ be concluded. I ought to -mention that the nobleman in question is Lord Aspenly." - -The young man looked for a moment or two the very impersonation of -astonishment, and then, burst into an uncontrollable fit of laughter. - -"Either be silent, sir, or this moment quit the room," said Sir -Richard, in a tone which few would have liked to disobey--"how dare -you--you--you insolent, dependent coxcomb--how dare you, sir, treat me -with this audacious disrespect?" - -The young man hastened to avert the storm, whose violence he had more -than once bitterly felt, by a timely submission. - -"I assure you, sir, nothing was further from my intention than to -offend you," said he--"I am fully alive--as a man of the world, I could -not be otherwise--to the immense advantages of the connection; but Lord -Aspenly I have known so long, and always looked upon as a confirmed old -bachelor, that on hearing his name thus suddenly, something of -incongruity, and--and--and I don't exactly know what--struck me so very -forcibly, that I involuntarily and very thoughtlessly began to laugh. I -assure you, sir, I regret it very much, if it has offended you." - -"You are a weak fool, sir, I am afraid," replied his father, shortly: -"but that conviction has not come upon me by surprise; you _can_, -however, be of some use in this matter, and I am determined you _shall_ -be. Now, sir, mark me: I suspect that this young fellow--this O'Connor, -is not so indifferent to Mary as he should be to a daughter of mine, -and it is more than possible that he may endeavour to maintain his -interest in her affections, imaginary or real, by writing letters, -sending messages, and such manoeuvring. Now, you must call upon the -young man, wherever he is to be found, and either procure from him a -distinct pledge to the effect that he will think no more of her (the -young fellow has a sense of honour, and I would rely upon his promise), -or else you must have him out--in short, make him _fight_ you--you -attend, sir--if _you_ get hurt, we can easily make the country too hot -to hold him; and if, on the other hand, _you_ poke _him_ through the -body, there's an end of the whole difficulty. This step, sir, you -_must_ take--you understand me--I am very much in earnest." - -This was delivered with a cold deliberateness, which young Ashwoode -well understood, when his father used it to imply a fixity of purpose, -such as brooked no question, and halted at no obstacle. - -"Sir," replied Henry Ashwoode, after an embarrassed pause of a few -minutes, "you are not aware of _one_ particular connected with last -night's affray--you have heard that poor Darby, who rode with me, was -actually brained, and that _I_ escaped a like fate by the interposition -of one who, at his own personal risk, saved my life--that one was the -very Edmond O'Connor of whom we speak." - -"What you allude to," observed Sir Richard, with very edifying -coolness, "is, no doubt, very shocking and very horrible. I regret the -destruction of the man, although I neither saw nor knew much about him; -and for your eminently providential escape, I trust I am fully as -thankful as I ought to be; and now, granting all you have said to be -perfectly accurate--which I take it to be--what conclusion do you wish -me to draw from it?" - -"Why, sir, without pretending to any very extraordinary proclivity to -gratitude," replied the young man--"for O'Connor told me plainly that -he did not expect any--I must consider what the world will say, if I -return what it will be pleased to regard as an obligation, by -challenging the person who conferred it." - -"Good, sir--good," said the baronet, calmly: and gazing upon the -ceiling with elevated eyebrows and a bitter smile, he added, -reflectively, "he's afraid--afraid--afraid--ay, afraid--afraid." - -"You wrong me very much, sir," rejoined young Ashwoode, "if you imagine -that fear has anything to do with my reluctance to act as you would -have me; and no less do you wrong me, if you think I would allow any -school-boy sentimentalism to stand in the way of my family's interests. -My _real_ objection to the thing is this--first, that I cannot see any -satisfactory answer to the question, What will the world say of my -conduct, in case I force a duel upon him the day after he has saved my -life?--and again, I think it inevitably damages any young woman in the -matrimonial market, to have low duels fought about her." - -Sir Richard screwed his eyebrows reflectively, and remained silent. - -"But at the same time, sir," continued his son, "I see as clearly as -you could wish me to do, the importance, under present circumstances--or -rather the absolute necessity--of putting a stop to O'Connor's suit; -and, in short, to all communication between him and my sister, and I -will undertake to do this effectually." - -"And how, sir, pray?" inquired the baronet. - -"I shall, as a matter of course, wait upon the young man," replied -Henry Ashwoode--"his services of last night demand that I should do so. -I will explain to him, in a friendly way, the hopelessness of his suit. -I should not hesitate either to throw a little colouring of my own over -the matter. If I can induce O'Connor once to regard me as his -friend--and after all, it is but the part of a friend to put a stop to -this foolish affair--I will stake my existence that the matter shall be -broken off for ever and a day. If, however, the young fellow turn out -foolish and pig-headed, I can easily pick a quarrel with him upon some -other subject, and get him out of the way as you propose; but without -mixing up my sister's name in the dispute, or giving occasion for -gossip. However, I half suspect that it will require neither crafty -stratagem nor shrewd blows to bring this absurd business to an end. I -daresay the parties are beginning to tire heartily of waiting, and -perhaps a little even of one another; and, for my part, I really do not -know that the girl ever cared for him, or gave him the smallest -encouragement." - -"But _I_ know that she _did_," replied Sir Richard. "Carey has shown me -letters from her to him, and from him to her, not six months since. -Carey is a very useful woman, and may do us important service. I did -not choose to mention that I had seen these letters; but I sounded Mary -somewhat sternly, and left her with a caution which I think must have -produced a salutary effect--in short, I told her plainly, that if I had -reason to suspect any correspondence or understanding between her and -O'Connor, I should not scruple to resort to the sternest and most -rigorous interposition of parental authority, to put an end to it -peremptorily. I confess, however, that I have misgivings about this. I -regard it as a very serious obstacle--one, however, which, so sure as I -live, I will entirely annihilate." - -There was a pause for a little while, and Sir Richard continued,-- - -"There is a good deal of sense in what you have suggested. We will talk -it over and arrange operations systematically this evening. I presume -you intend calling upon the fellow to-day; it might not be amiss if you -had him to dine with you once or twice in town: you must get up a kind -of confidential acquaintance with him, a thing which you can easily -terminate, as soon as its object is answered. He is, I believe, what -they call a frank, honest sort of fellow, and is, of course, very -easily led; and--and, in short--made a _fool_ of: as for the girl, I -think I know something of the sex, and very few of them are so romantic -as not to understand the value of a title and ten thousand a year! -Depend upon it, in spite of all her sighs, and vapours, and romance, -the girl will be dazzled so effectually before three weeks, as to be -blind to every other object in the world; but if not, and should she -dare to oppose my wishes, I'll make her cross-grained folly more -terrible to her than she dreams of--but she knows me too well--she -_dares_ not." - -Both parties remained silent and abstracted for a time, and then Sir -Richard, turning sharply to his son, exclaimed, with his usual tart -manner,-- - -"And now, sir, I must admit that I am a good deal tired of your very -agreeable company. Go about your business, if you please, and be in -this room this evening at half-past six o'clock. You had _better_ not -forget to be punctual; and, for the present, get out of my sight." - -With this very affectionate leave-taking, Sir Richard put an end to the -family consultation, and the young man, relieved of the presence of the -only person on earth whom he really feared, gladly closed the door -behind him. - - - - -CHAPTER XI. - -THE OLD BEECH-TREE WALK AND THE IVY-GROWN GATEWAY--THE TRYSTE AND TUE -CRUTCH-HANDLED CANE. - - -In the snug old "Cock and Anchor," the morning after the exciting -scenes in which O'Connor had taken so active a part, that gentleman was -pacing the floor of his sitting-room in no small agitation. On the -result of that interview, which he had resolved no longer to postpone, -depended his happiness for years--it might be for life. Again and again -he applied himself to the task of arranging clearly and concisely, and -withal adroitly and with tact, the substance of what he had to say to -Sir Richard Ashwoode. But, spite of all, his mind would wander to the -pleasant hours he had passed with Mary Ashwoode in the quiet green wood -and by the dark well's side, and through the moss-grown rocks, and by -the chiming current of the wayward brook, long before the cold and -worldly had suspected and repulsed that love which he knew could never -die but when his heart had ceased to beat for ever. Again would he, -banishing with a stoical effort these unbidden visions of memory, seek -to accomplish the important task which he had proposed to himself; but -still all in vain. There was she once more--there was the pale, -pensive, lovely face--there the long, dark, silken tresses--there the -deep, beautiful eyes--and there the smile--the artless, melancholy, -enchanting smile. - -"It boots not trying," exclaimed O'Connor. "I cannot collect my -thoughts; and yet what use in conning over the order and the words of -what, after all, will be judged merely by its meaning? Perhaps it is -better that I should yield myself wholly up to the impulse of the -moment, and so speak but the more directly and the more boldly. No; -even in such a cause I will not accommodate myself to his cramp and -crooked habits of thought and feeling. If I let him know all, it -matters little how he learns it." - -As O'Connor finished this sentence, his meditations were dispelled by -certain sounds, which issued from the passage leading to his room. - -"A young man," exclaimed a voice, interrupted by a good deal of puffing -and blowing, probably caused by the steep ascent, "and a good-looking, -eh?--(puff)--dark eyes, eh?--(puff, puff)--black hair and straight -nose, eh?--(puff, puff)--long-limbed, tall, eh?--(puff)." - -The answers to these interrogatories, whatever they may have been, -were, where O'Connor stood, wholly inaudible; but the cross-examination -was accompanied throughout by a stout, firm, stumping tread upon the -old floor, which, along with the increasing clearness with which the -noise made its way to O'Connor's door, sufficiently indicated that the -speaker was approaching. The accents were familiar to him. He ran to -his door, opened it; and in an instant Hugh Audley, Esquire, very hot -and very much out of breath, pitched himself, with a good deal of -precision, shoulders foremost, against the pit of the young man's -stomach, and, embracing him a little above the hips, hugged him for -some time in silence, swaying him to and fro with extraordinary energy, -as if preparatory to tripping him up, and taking him off his feet -altogether--then giving him a shove straight from him, and holding him -at arm's length, he looked with brimful eyes, and a countenance beaming -with delight, full in O'Connor's face. - -"Confound the dog, how well he looks," exclaimed the old gentleman, -vehemently--"devilish well, curse him!" and he gave O'Connor a shove -with his knuckles, and succeeded in staggering himself--"never saw you -look better in my life, nor anyone else for that matter; and how is -every inch of you, and what have you been doing with yourself? Come, -you young dog, account for yourself." - -O'Connor had now, for the first time, an opportunity of bidding the -kind old gentleman welcome, which he did to the full as cordially, if -not so boisterously. - -"Let me sit down and rest myself: I must take breath for a minute," -exclaimed the old gentleman. "Give me a chair, you undutiful rascal. -What a devil of a staircase that is, to be sure. Well, and what do you -intend doing with yourself to-day?" - -"To say the truth," said the young man, while a swarthier glow crossed -his dark features. "I was just about to start for Morley Court, to see -Sir Richard Ashwoode." - -"About his daughter, I take it?" inquired the old gentleman. - -"Just so, sir," replied the younger man. - -"Then you may spare yourself the pains," rejoined the old gentleman, -briskly. "You are better at home. You have been forestalled." - -"What--how, sir? What do you mean?" asked O'Connor, in great perplexity -and alarm. - -"Just what I say, my boy. You have been forestalled." - -"By whom, sir?" - -"By me." - -"By you?" - -"Ay." - -The old gentleman screwed his brows and pursed up his mouth until it -became a Gordian involution of knots and wrinkles, threw a fierce and -determined expression into his eyes, and wagged his head slightly from -side to side--looking altogether very like a "Cromwell guiltless of his -country's blood." At length he said,-- - -"I'm an old fellow, and ought to know something by this time--think I -_do_, for that matter; and I say deliberately--cut the whole concern -and blow them all." - -Having thus delivered himself, the old gentleman resumed his sternest -expression of countenance, and continued in silence to wag his head -from time to time with an air of infinite defiance, leaving his young -companion, if possible, more perplexed and bewildered than ever. - -"And have you, then, seen Sir Richard Ashwoode?" inquired O'Connor. - -"Have I seen him?" rejoined the old gentleman. "To be sure I have. The -moment the boat touched the quay, and I fairly felt _terra firma_, I -drove to the 'Fox in Breeches,' and donned a handsome suit"--(here the -gentleman glanced cursorily at his bottle-green habiliments)--"I -ordered a hack-coach--got safely to Morley Court--saw Sir Richard, laid -up with the gout, looking just like an old, dried-up, cross-grained -monkey. There was, of course, a long explanation, and all that sort of -thing--a good deal of tact and diplomacy on my side, doubling about, -neat fencing, and circumbendibus; but all would not do--an infernal -_smash_. Sir Richard was all but downright uncivil--would not hear of -it--said plump and plain he would never consent. The fact is, he's a -sour, hard, insolent old scoundrel, and a bitter pill; and I -congratulate you heartily on having escaped all connection with him and -his. Don't look so down in the mouth about the matter; there's as good -fish in the sea as ever was caught; and if the young woman is half such -a shrew as her father is a tartar, you have had an escape to be -thankful for the longest day you live." - -We shall not attempt to describe the feelings with which O'Connor -received this somewhat eccentric communication. He folded his arms upon -the table, and for many minutes leaned his head upon them, without -motion, and without uttering one word. At length he said,-- - -"After all, I ought to have expected this. Sir Richard is a bigoted man -in his own faith--an ambitious and a worldly man, too. It was folly, -mere folly, knowing all this, to look for any other answer from him. He -may indeed delay our union for a little, but he cannot bar it--he -_shall_ not bar it. I could more easily doubt myself than Mary's -constancy; and if she be but firm and true--and she is all loyalty and -all truth--the world cannot part us two. Our separation cannot outlast -his life; nor shall it last so long. I will overcome her scruples, -combat all her doubts, satisfy her reason. She will consent--she will -be mine--my own--through life and until death. No hand shall sunder us -for ever,"--he turned to the old man, and grasped his hand--"My dear, -kind, true friend, how can I ever thank you for all your generous acts -of kindness. I cannot." - -"Never mind, never mind, my dear boy," said the old gentleman, -blubbering in spite of himself--"never mind--what a d----d old fool I -am, to be sure. Come, come, you, shall take a turn with me towards the -country, and get an appetite for dinner. You'll be as well as ever in -half an hour. When all's done, you stand no worse than you did -yesterday; and if the girl's a good girl, as I make no doubt she is, -why, you are sure of her constancy--and the devil himself shall not -part you. Confound me if I don't run away with the girl for you myself -if you make a pother about the matter. Come along, you dog--come along, -I say." - -"Nay, sir," replied O'Connor, "forgive me. I am keenly pained. I am -agitated--confounded at the suddenness of this--this dreadful blow. I -will go alone, pardon me, my kind and dear friend, I must go _alone_. I -may chance to see the lady. I am sure she will not fail me--she will -meet me. Oh! heart and brain, be still--be steady--I need your best -counsels now. Farewell, sir--for a little time, farewell." - -"Well, be it so--since so it _must_ be," said Mr. Audley, who did not -care to combat a resolution, announced with all the wild energy of -despairing passion, "by all means, my dear boy, _alone_ it shall be, -though I scarce think you would be the worse of a staid old fellow's -company in your ramble--but no matter, boys will be boys while the -world goes round." - -The conclusion of this sentence was a soliloquy, for O'Connor had -already descended to the inn yard, where he procured a horse, and was -soon, with troubled mind and swelling heart, making rapid way toward -Morley Court. It was now the afternoon--the sun had made nearly half -his downward course--the air was soft and fresh, and the birds sang -sweetly in the dark nooks and bowers of the tall trees: it seemed -almost as if summer had turned like a departing beauty, with one last -look of loveliness to gladden the scene which she was regretfully -leaving. So sweet and still the air--so full and mellow the thrilling -chorus of merry birds among the rustling leaves, flitting from bough to -bough in the clear and lofty shadow--so cloudless the golden flood of -sunlight. Such was the day--so gladsome the sounds--so serene the -aspect of all nature--as O'Connor, dismounting under the shadow of a -tall, straggling hawthorn hedge, and knotting the bridle in one of its -twisted branches, crossed a low stile, and thus entered the grounds of -Morley Court. He threaded a winding path which led through a neglected -wood of thorn and oak, and found himself after a few minutes in the -spot he sought. The old beech walk had been once the main avenue to the -house. Huge beech-trees flung their mighty boughs high in air across -its long perspective--and bright as was the day, the long lane lay in -shadow deep and solemn as that of some old Gothic aisle. Down this dim -vista did O'Connor pace with hurried steps toward the spot where, about -midway in its length, there stood the half-ruined piers and low walls -of what had once been a gateway. - -"Can it be that she shrinks from this meeting?" thought O'Connor, as -his eye in vain sought the wished-for form of Mary Ashwoode, "will she -disappoint me?--surely she who has walked with me so many lonely hours -in guileless trust need not have feared to meet me here. It was not -generous to deny me this boon--to her so easy--to me so rich--yet -perchance she judges wisely. What boots it that I should see her? Why -see again that matchless beauty--that touching smile--those eyes that -looked so fondly on me? Why see her more--since mayhap we shall never -meet again? She means it kindly. Her nature is all nobleness--all -generosity; and yet--and yet to see her no more--to hear her voice no -more--have we--have we then parted at last for ever? But no--by -heavens--'tis she--Mary!" - -It was indeed Mary Ashwoode, blushing and beautiful as ever. In an -instant O'Connor stood by her side. - -"My own--my true-hearted Mary." - -"Oh! Edmond," said she, after a brief silence, "I fear I have done -wrong--have I?--in meeting you thus. I ought not--indeed I know I ought -not to have come." - -"Nay, Mary, do not speak thus. Dear Mary, have we not been companions -in many a pleasant ramble: in those times--the times, Mary, that will -never come again? Why, then, should you deny me a few minutes' mournful -converse, where in other days we two have passed so many pleasant -hours?" - -There was in the tone in which he spoke something so unutterably -melancholy--and in the recollections which his few simple words called -crowding to her mind, something at once so touching, so dearly -cherished, and so bitterly regretted--that the tears gathered in her -full dark eyes, and fell one by one fast and unheeded. - -"You do not grieve, then, Mary," said he, "that you have come -here--that we have met once more: do you, Mary?" - -"No, no, Edmond--no, indeed," answered she, sobbing. "God knows I do -not, Edmond--no, no." - -"Well, Mary," said he, "I am happy in the belief that you feel toward -me just as you used to do--as happy as one so wretched can hope to be." - -"Edmond, your words affright me," said she, fixing her eyes full upon -him with imploring earnestness: "you look sadder--paler than you did -yesterday; something has happened since then. What--what is it, Edmond? -tell me--ah, tell me!" - -"Yes, Mary, much has happened," answered he, taking her hand between -both of his, and meeting her gaze with a look of passionate sorrow and -tenderness--"yes, Mary, without my knowledge, the friend of whom I told -you had arrived, and this morning saw your father, told him _all_, and -was repulsed with sternness--almost with insult. Sir Richard has -resolved that it shall never be; there is no more hope of bending -him--none--none--none." - -While O'Connor spoke, the colour in Mary's cheeks came and fled in turn -with quick alternations, in answer to every throb and flutter of the -poor heart within. - -"See him--speak to him--yourself, Edmond, yourself. Oh! do not -despair--see him--speak to him," she almost whispered, for agitation -had well-nigh deprived her of voice--"see him, Edmond--yourself--for -God's sake, dear Edmond--yourself--yourself"--and she grasped his arm -in her tiny hand, and gazed in his pale face with such a look of -agonized entreaty as cut him to the very heart. - -"Yes, Mary, if it seems good to you, I will speak to him myself," said -O'Connor, with deep melancholy. "I will, Mary, though my own heart--my -reason--tells me it is all--all utterly in vain; but, Mary," continued -he, suddenly changing his tone to one of more alacrity, "if he should -still reject me--if he shall forbid our ever meeting more--if he shall -declare himself unalterably resolved against our union--Mary, in such a -case, would you, too, tell me to see you no more--would you, too, tell -me to depart without hope, and never come again? or would you, -Mary--could you--dare you--dear, dear Mary, for once--once -only--disobey your stern and haughty father--dare you trust yourself -with me--fly with me to France, and be at last, and after all, my -own--my bride?" - -"No, Edmond," said she, solemnly and sadly, while her eyes again filled -with tears; and though she trembled like the leaf on the tree, yet he -knew by the sound of her sad voice that her purpose could not -alter--"that can never be--never, Edmond--no--no." - -"Then, Mary, can it be," he answered, with an accent so desolate that -despair itself seemed breathing in its tone--"can it be, after all--all -we have passed and proved--all our love and constancy, and all our -bright hopes, so long and fondly cherished--cherished in the midst of -grief and difficulty--when we had no other stay but hope alone--are we, -after all--at last, to part for ever?--is it, indeed, Mary, all--all -over?" - -As the two lovers stood thus in deep and melancholy converse by the -ivy-grown and ruined gateway, beneath the airy shadow of the old -beech-trees, they were recalled to other thoughts by the hurried patter -of footsteps, and the rustling of the branches among the underwood -which skirted the avenue. As fortune willed it, however, the intruder -was no other than the honest dog, Rover, Mary's companion in many a -silent and melancholy ramble; he came sniffing and bounding with -boisterous greeting to hail his young mistress and her companion. The -interruption, harmless as it was, startled Mary Ashwoode. - -"Were my father to find us here, Edmond," said she, "it were fatal to -all our hopes. You know his temper well. Let us then part here. Follow -the by-path leading to the house. Go and see him--speak with him for my -sake--for my sake, Edmond--and so--and so--farewell." - -"And farewell, Mary, since it must be," said O'Connor, with a bitter -struggle. "Farewell, but only for a time--only for a little time, Mary; -and whatever befalls, remember--remember me. Farewell, Mary." - -As he thus spoke, he raised her hand to his lips, and kissed it for the -first time, it might be for the last, in his life. For a moment he -stood, and gazed with sad devotion upon the loved face. Then, with an -effort, he turned abruptly away, and strode rapidly in the direction -she had indicated; and when he turned to look again, she was gone. - -O'Connor followed the narrow path, which, diverging a little from the -broad grass lane, led with many a wayward turn among the tall trees -toward the house. As he thus pursued his way, a few moments of -reflection satisfied him of the desperate nature of the enterprise -which he had undertaken. But if lovers are often upon unreal grounds -desponding, it is likewise true that they are sometimes sanguine when -others would despair; and, spite of all his misgivings--of all the -irresistible conclusions of stern reason--hope still beckoned him on. -Thus agitated, he pursued his way, until, on turning an abrupt angle, -he beheld, scarcely more than a dozen paces in advance, and moving -slowly toward him in the shadowy pathway, a figure, at sight of which, -thus suddenly presented, he recoiled, and stood for a moment fixed as a -statue. He had encountered the object of his search. The form was that -of Sir Richard Ashwoode himself, who, wrapped in his scarlet -roquelaure, and leaning upon the shoulder of his Italian valet, while -he limped forward slowly and painfully, appeared full before him. - -"So, so, so, so," repeated the baronet, at first with unaffected -astonishment, which speedily, however, deepened into intense but -constrained anger--his dark, prominent eyes peering fiercely upon the -young man, while, stooping forward, and clutching his crutch-handled -cane hard in his lean fingers, he limped first one and then another -step nearer. - -"Mr. O'Connor! or my eyes deceive me." - -"Yes, Sir Richard," replied O'Connor, with a haughty bow, and advancing -a little toward him in turn. "I am that Edmond O'Connor whom you once -knew well, and whom it would seem you still know. I ought, doubtless----" - -"Nay, sir, no flowers of rhetoric, if you please," interrupted Sir -Richard, bitterly--"no fustian speeches--to the point--to the point, -sir. If you have ought to say to me, deliver it in six words. Your -business, sir. Be brief." - -"I will not indeed waste words, Sir Richard Ashwoode," replied -O'Connor, firmly. "There is but one subject on which I would seek a -conference with you, and that subject you well may guess." - -"I _do_ guess it," retorted Sir Richard. "You would renew an absurd -proposal--one opened three years since, and repeated this morning by -the old booby, your elected spokesman. To that proposal I have ever -given one answer--no. I have not changed my mind, nor ever shall. Am I -understood, sir? And least of all should I think of changing my purpose -now," continued he, more pointedly, as a suspicion crossed his -mind--"_now_, sir, that you have forfeited by your own act whatever -regard you once seemed to me to merit. You did not seek _me_ here, sir. -I'm not to be fooled, sir. You did not seek me--don't assert it. I -understand your purpose. You came here clandestinely to tamper like a -schemer with my child. Yes, sir, a schemer!" repeated Sir Richard, with -bitter emphasis, while his sharp sallow features grew sharper and more -sallow still; and he struck the point of his cane at every emphatic -word deep into the sod--"a mean, interested, cowardly schemer. How dare -you steal into my place, you thrice-rejected, dishonourable, spiritless -adventurer?" - -The blood rushed to O'Connor's brow as the old man uttered this -insulting invective. The fiery impulse which under other circumstances -would have been uncontrollable, was, however, speedily, though with -difficulty, mastered; and O'Connor replied bitterly,-- - -"You are an old man, Sir Richard, and _her_ father--you are safe, sir. -How much of chivalry or courage is shown in heaping insult upon one who -_will_ not retort upon you, judge for yourself. Alter what has passed, -I feel that I were, indeed, the vile thing you have described, if I -were again to subject myself to your unprovoked insolence: be assured, -I shall never place foot of mine within your boundaries again: relieve -yourself, sir, of all fears upon that score; and for your language, you -know you can appreciate the respect that makes me leave you thus -unanswered and unpunished." - -So saying, he turned, and with long and rapid strides retraced his -steps, his heart swelling with a thousand struggling emotions. Scarce -knowing what he did, O'Connor rode rapidly to the "Cock and Anchor," -and too much stunned and confounded by the scenes in which he had just -borne a part to exchange a word with Mr. Audley, whom he found still -established in his chamber, he threw himself dejectedly into a chair, -and sank into gloomy and obstinate abstraction. The good-natured old -gentleman did not care to interrupt his young friend's ruminations, and -hours might have passed away and found them still undisturbed, were it -not that the door was suddenly thrown open, and the waiter announced -Mr. Ashwoode. There was a spell in the name which instantly recalled -O'Connor to the scene before him. Had a viper sprung up at his feet, he -could not have recoiled with a stronger antipathy. With a mixture of -feelings scarcely tolerable, he awaited his arrival, and after a moment -or two of suspense, Henry Ashwoode entered the room. - -Mr. Audley, having heard the name, scowled fearfully from the centre of -the room upon the young gentleman as he entered, stuffed his hands -half-way to the elbows in his breeches pockets, and turning briskly -upon his heel, marched emphatically to the window, and gazed out into -the inn yard with remarkable perseverance. The obvious coldness with -which he was received did not embarrass young Ashwoode in the least. -With perfect ease and a graceful frankness of demeanour, he advanced to -O'Connor, and after a greeting of extraordinary warmth, inquired how he -had gotten home, and whether he had suffered since any inconvenience -from the fall which he had. He then went on to renew his protestations -of gratitude for O'Connor's services, with so much ardour and apparent -heartiness, that spite of his prejudices, the old man was moved in his -favour; and when Ashwoode expressed in a low voice to O'Connor his wish -to be introduced to his friend, honest Mr. Audley felt his heart quite -softened, and instead of merely bowing to him, absolutely shook him by -the hand. The young man then, spite of O'Connor's evident reluctance, -proceeded to relate to his new acquaintance the details of the -adventures of the preceding night, in doing which, he took occasion to -dwell, in the most glowing terms, upon his obligations to O'Connor. -After sitting with them for nearly half an hour, young Ashwoode took -his leave in the most affectionate manner possible, and withdrew. - -"Well, that _is_ a good-looking young fellow, and a warm-hearted," -exclaimed the old gentleman, as soon as the visitor had -disappeared--"what a pity he should be cursed with such a confounded -old father." - - - - -CHAPTER XII. - -THE APPOINTED HOUR--THE SCHEMERS AND THE PLOT. - - -"And here comes my dear brother," exclaimed Mary Ashwoode, joyously, as -she ran to welcome the young man, now entering her father's room, in -which, for more than an hour previously, she had been sitting. Throwing -her arm round his neck, and looking sweetly in his face, she -continued--"You _will_ stay with us this evening, dear Harry--do, for -my sake--you won't refuse--it is so long since we have had you;" and -though she spoke with a gay look and a gladsome voice, a sense of real -solitariness called a tear to her dark eye. - -"No, Mary--not this evening," said the young man coldly; "I must be in -town again to-night, and before I go must have some conversation upon -business with my father, so that I may not see you again till morning." - -"But, dear Henry," said she, still clinging affectionately to his arm, -"you have been in such danger, and I knew nothing of it until after you -went out this morning: are you quite well, Henry?--you were not -hurt--were you?" - -"No, no--nothing--nothing--I never was better," said he, impatiently. - -"Well, brother--_dear_ brother," she continued imploringly, "come early -home to-night--do not be upon the road late--won't you promise?" - -"There, there, there," said he rudely, "run away--take your work, or -your book, or whatever it may be, down stairs; your father wants to -speak with me alone," and so saying, he turned pettishly from her. - -His habitual coldness and carelessness of manner had never before -seemed so ungracious. The poor girl felt her heart swell within her, as -though it would burst. She had never felt so keenly that in all this -world there lived but one being upon whose love she might rely, and he -separated, it might be for ever, from her: she gathered up her work, -and ran quickly from the room, to hide the tears which she could not -restrain. - -Young Ashwoode was to the full as worldly and as unprincipled a man as -was his father; and whatever reluctance he may have felt as to adopting -Sir Richard's plans respecting O'Connor, the reader would grievously -wrong him in attributing his unwillingness to any visitings of -gratitude, or, indeed, to any other feeling than that which he had -himself avowed. A few hours' reflection had satisfied the young man of -the transcendent importance of securing Lord Aspenly; and by a -corresponding induction he had arrived at the conclusion to which his -father had already come--namely, that it was imperatively necessary by -all means to put an end effectually to his sister's correspondence with -O'Connor. To effect this object both were equally resolved; and with -respect to the means to be employed both were equally unscrupulous. -With Henry Ashwoode courage was constitutional, and art habitual. If, -therefore, either duplicity or daring could ensure success, he felt -that he must triumph; and, at all events, he was sufficiently impressed -with the importance of the object, to resolve to leave nothing untried -for its achievement. - -"You _are_ punctual, sir," said Sir Richard, glancing at his -richly-chased watch; "sit down; I have considered your suggestions of -this morning, and I am inclined to adopt them; it is most probable that -Mary, like the rest of her sex, will be taken by the splendour of the -proposal--fascinated--in short, as I said this morning--dazzled. Now, -whether she be or not--observe me, it shall be our object to make -O'Connor believe that she _is_ so. You will have his ear, and through -her maid, Carey, I can manage their correspondence; not a letter from -either can reach the other, without first meeting my eye. I am very -certain that the young fellow will lose no time in writing to her some -more of those passionate epistles, of which, as I told you, I have seen -a sample. I shall take care to have their letters _re_-written for the -future, before they come to hand; and it shall go hard, or between us -we shall manage to give each a very moderate opinion of the other's -constancy; thus the affair will--or rather must--die a natural -death--after all, the most effectual kind of mortality in such cases." - -"I called to-day upon the fellow," said the young man. "I made him out, -and without approaching the point of nearest interest, I have, -nevertheless, opened operations successfully--so far as a most -auspicious re-commencement of our acquaintance may be so accounted." - -"And, stranger still to say," rejoined the baronet, "I also encountered -him to-day; but only for some dozen seconds." - -"How!--saw O'Connor!" exclaimed young Ashwoode. - -"Yes, sir, O'Connor--Edmond O'Connor," repeated Sir Richard. "He was -coolly walking up to the house to see me, as it would seem; and I do -believe the fellow speaks truth--he _did_ see me, and that is all. I -fancy he will scarcely come here again uninvited; he said so pretty -plainly, and I believe the fellow has spirit enough to feel an -affront." - -"He did not see Mary?" inquired Henry. - -"I did not ask him, and don't choose to ask her; I don't mean to allude -to the subject in her presence," replied Sir Richard, quickly. "I -think--indeed I _know_--I can mar their plans better by appearing never -once to apprehend anything from O'Connor's pretensions. I have reasons, -too, for not wishing to deal harshly with Mary _at present_; we must -have no _scenes_, if possible. Were I to appear suspicious and uneasy, -it would put them on their guard. And now, upon the other point, did -you speak to Craven about the possibility of raising ten thousand -pounds on the Glenvarlogh property?" - -"He says it can be done very easily, if Mary joins you," replied the -young man; "but I have been thinking that if you ask her to sign any -deed, it might as well be one assigning over her interest absolutely to -you. Aspenly does not want a penny with her--in fact, from what fell -from him to-day, when I met him in town, I'm inclined to think he -believes that she has not a penny in the world; so she may as well make -it over to you, and then we can turn it all into money when and how we -please. I desired Craven to work night and day at the deeds, and have -them over by ten o'clock to-morrow morning." - -"You did quite rightly," rejoined the old gentleman. "I hardly expect -any opposition from the girl--at least no more than I can easily -frighten her out of. Should she prove sulky, however, I do not well -know where to turn: as to asking my brother Oliver, I might as well, or -_better_, ask a Jew broker; he hates me and mine with his whole heart; -and to say the truth, there is not much love lost between us. No, no, -there's nothing to be looked for in that quarter. I daresay we'll -manage one way or another--lead or drive to get Mary to sign the deed, -and if so, the ship rights again. Craven comes, you say, at ten -to-morrow?" - -"He engaged to be here at that hour with the deeds," repeated the young -man. - -"Well," said his father, yawning, "you have nothing more to say, nor I -neither--oblige me by withdrawing." So parted these congenial -relations. - -The past day had been an agitating one to Mary Ashwoode. Still suspense -was to be her doom, and the same alternations of hope and of despair -were again to rob her pillow of repose; yet even thus, happy was she in -comparison with what she must have been, had she but known the schemes -of which she was the unconscious subject. At this juncture we shall -leave the actors in this true tale, and conclude the chapter with the -close of day. - - - - -CHAPTER XIII. - -THE INTERVIEW--THE PARCHMENT--AND THE NOBLEMAN'S COACH. - - -Sir Richard Ashwoode had never in the whole course of his life denied -himself the indulgence of any passion or of any whim. From his -childhood upward he had never considered the feelings or comforts of -any living being but himself alone. As he advanced in life, this -selfishness had improved to a degree of hardness and coldness so -intense, that if ever he had felt a kindly impulse at any moment in his -existence, the very remembrance of it had entirely faded from his mind: -so that generosity, compassion, and natural affection were to him not -only unknown, but incredible. To him mankind seemed all either fools, -or such as he himself was. Without one particle of principle of any -kind, he had uniformly maintained in the world the character of an -honourable man. The ordinary rules of honesty and morality he regarded -as so many conventional sentiments, to which every gentleman -subscribed, as a matter of course, in public, but which in private he -had an unquestionable right to dispense with at his own convenience. He -was imperious, fiery, and unforgiving to the uttermost; but when he -conceived it advantageous to do so, he could practise as well as any -man the convenient art of masking malignity, hatred, and inveteracy -behind the pleasantest of all pleasant smiles. Capable of any secret -meanness for the sake of the smallest advantage to be gained by it, he -was yet full of fierce and overbearing pride; and although this world -was all in all to him, yet there never breathed a man who could on the -slightest provocation risk his life in mortal combat with more alacrity -and absolute _sang froid_ than Sir Richard Ashwoode. In his habits he -was unboundedly luxurious--in his expenditure prodigal to recklessness. -His own and his son's extravagance, which he had indulged from a kind -of pride, was now, however, beginning to make itself sorely felt in -formidable and rapidly accumulating pecuniary embarrassments. These had -served to embitter and exasperate a temper which at the best had never -been a very sweet one, and of whose ordinary pitch the reader may form -an estimate, when he hears that in the short glimpses which he has had -of Sir Richard, the baronet happened to be, owing to the circumstances -with which we have acquainted him, in extraordinarily good humour. - -Sir Richard had not married young; and when he did marry it was to pay -his debts. The lady of his choice was beautiful, accomplished, and an -heiress; and, won by his agreeability, and by his well-assumed -devotedness and passion, she yielded to the pressure of his suit. They -were married, and she gave birth successively to a son and a daughter. -Sir Richard's temper, as we have hinted, was not very placid, nor his -habits very domestic; nevertheless, the world thought the match -(putting his money difficulties out of the question) a very suitable -and a very desirable one, and took it for granted that the gay baronet -and his lady were just as happy as a fashionable man and wife ought to -be--and perhaps they were so; but, for all that, it happened that at -the end of some four years the young wife died of a broken heart. Some -strange scenes, it is said, followed between Sir Richard and the -brother of the deceased lady, Oliver French. It is believed that this -gentleman suspected the cause of Lady Ashwoode's death--at all events -he had ascertained that she had not been kindly used, and after one or -two interviews with the baronet, in which bitter words were exchanged, -the matter ended in a fierce and bloodily contested duel, in which the -baronet received three desperate wounds. His recovery was long -doubtful; but life burns strongly in some breasts; and, contrary to the -desponding predictions of his surgeons, the valuable life of Sir -Richard Ashwoode was prolonged to his family and friends. - -Since then, Sir Richard had by different agencies sought to bring about -a reconciliation with his brother-in-law, but without the smallest -success. Oliver French was a bachelor, and a very wealthy one. -Moreover, he had it in his power to dispose of his lands and money just -as he pleased. These circumstances had strongly impressed Sir Richard -with a conviction that quarrels among relations are not only unseemly, -but un-Christian. He was never in a more forgiving and forgetting mood. -He was willing even to make concessions--anything that could be -reasonably asked of him, and even more, he was ready to do--but all in -vain. Oliver was obdurate. He knew his man well. He saw and appreciated -the baronet's motives, and hated and despised him ten thousand times -more than ever. - -Repulsed in his first attempt, Sir Richard resolved to give his -adversary time to cool a little; and accordingly, after a lapse of -twelve or fourteen years, his son Henry being then a handsome lad, he -wrote to his brother-in-law a very long and touching epistle, in which -he proposed to send his son down to Ardgillagh, the place where the -alienated relative resided, with a portrait of his deceased lady, -which, of course, with no object less sacred, and to no relative less -near and respected, could he have induced himself to part. This, too, -was a total failure. Oliver French, Esquire, wrote back a very succinct -epistle, but one very full of unpleasant meaning. He said that the -portrait would be odious to him, inasmuch as it would be necessarily -associated in his mind with a marriage which had killed his sister, and -with persons whom he abhorred--that therefore he would not allow it -into his house. He stated, that to the motives which prompted his -attention he was wide awake--that he was, however, perfectly determined -that no person bearing the name or the blood of Sir Richard Ashwoode -should ever have one penny of his; adding, that the baronet could leave -his son, Mr. Henry Ashwoode, quite enough for a gentleman to live upon -respectably; and that, at all events, in his father's virtues the young -gentleman would inherit a legacy such as would insure him universal -respect, and a general welcome wherever he might happen to go, -excepting only one locality, called Ardgillagh. - -With the failure of this last attempt, of course, disappeared every -hope of success with the rich old bachelor; and the forgiving baronet -was forced to content himself, in the absence of all more substantial -rewards, with the consciousness of having done what was, under all the -circumstances, the most Christian thing he could have done, as well as -played the most knowing game, though unsuccessful, which he could have -played. - -Sir Richard Ashwoode limped downstairs to receive his intended -son-in-law, Lord Aspenly, on the day following the events which we have -detailed in our last and the preceding chapters. That nobleman had -intimated his intention to be with Sir Richard about noon. It was now -little more than ten, and the baronet was, nevertheless, restless and -fidgety. The room he occupied was a large parlour, commanding a view of -the approach to the house. Again and again he consulted his watch, and -as often hobbled over, as well as he could, to the window, where he -gazed in evident discontent down the long, straight avenue, with its -double row of fine old giant lime-trees. - -"Nearly half-past ten," muttered Sir Richard, to himself, for at his -desire he had been left absolutely alone--"ay, fully half-past, and the -fellow not come yet. No less than, two notes since eight this morning, -both of them with gratuitous mendacity renewing the appointment for ten -o'clock; and ten o'clock comes and goes, and half-an-hour more along -with it, and still no sign of Mr. Craven. If I had fixed ten o'clock to -pay his accursed, unconscionable bill of costs, he'd have been prowling -about the grounds from sunrise, and pounced upon me before the last -stroke of the clock had sounded." - -While thus the baronet was engaged in muttering his discontent, and -venting secret imprecations on the whole race of attorneys, a vehicle -rolled up to the hall-door. The bell pealed, and the knocker thundered, -and in a moment a servant entered, and announced Mr. Craven--a -square-built man of low stature, wearing his own long, grizzled hair -instead of a wig--having a florid complexion, hooked nose, beetle -brows, and long-cut, Jewish, black eyes, set close under the bridge of -his nose--who stepped with a velvet tread into the room. An unvarying -smile sate upon his thin lips, and about his whole air and manner there -was a certain indescribable sanctimoniousness, which was rather -enhanced by the puritanical plainness of his attire. - -"Sir Richard, I beg pardon--rather late, I fear," said he, in a dulcet, -insinuating tone--"hard work, nevertheless, I do assure -you--ninety-seven skins--splendidly engrossed--quite a treat--five of -my young men up all night--I have got one of them outside to witness it -along with me. Some reading in the thing, I promise you; but I hope--I -_do_ hope, I am not very late?" - -"Not at all--not at all, my dear Mr. Craven," said Sir Richard, with -his most engaging smile; for, as we have hinted, "dear Mr. Craven" had -not made the science of conveyancing peculiarly cheap in practice to -the baronet, who accordingly owed him more costs than it would have -been quite convenient to pay upon a short notice--"I'll just, with your -assistance, glance through these parchments, though to do so be but a -matter of form. Pray take a chair beside me--there. Now then to -business." - -Accordingly to business they went. Practice, they say, makes perfect, -and the baronet had had, unfortunately for himself, a great deal of it -in such matters during the course of his life. He knew how to read a -deed as well as the most experienced counsel at the Irish bar, and was -able consequently to detect with wonderfully little rummaging and -fumbling in the ninety-seven skins of closely written verbiage, the -seven lines of sense which they enveloped. Little more than -half-an-hour had therefore satisfied Sir Richard that the mass of -parchment before him, after reciting with very considerable accuracy -the deeds and process by which the lands of Glenvarlogh were settled -upon his daughter, went on to state that for and in consideration of -the sum of five shillings, good and lawful money, she, being past the -age of twenty-one, in every possible phrase and by every word which -tautology could accumulate, handed over the said lands, absolutely to -her father, Sir Richard Ashwoode, Bart., of Morley Court, in the county -of Dublin, to have, and to hold, and to make ducks and drakes of, to -the end of time, constantly affirming at the end of every sentence that -she was led to do all this for and in consideration of the sum of five -shillings, good and lawful money. As soon as Sir Richard had seen all -this, which was, as we have said, in little more than half-an-hour, he -pulled the bell, and courteously informing Mr. Craven, the immortal -author of the interesting document which he had just perused, that he -would find chocolate and other refreshments in the library, and -intimating that he would perhaps disturb him in about ten minutes, he -consigned that gentleman to the guidance of the servant, whom he also -directed to summon Miss Ashwoode to his presence. - -"Her signing this deed," thought he, as he awaited her arrival, "will -make her absolutely dependent upon me--it will make rebellion, -resistance, murmuring, impossible; she then _must_ do as I would have -her, or--Ah? my dear child," exclaimed the baronet, as his daughter -entered the room, addressing her in the sweetest imaginable voice, and -instantaneously dismissing the sinister menace which had sat upon his -countenance, and clothing it instead as suddenly with an absolute -radiance of affection, "come here and kiss me and sit down by my -side--are you well to-day? you look pale--you smile--well, well! it -cannot be anything _very_ bad. You shall run out just now with Emily. -But first, I must talk with you for a little, and, strange enough, on -business too." The old gentleman paused for an instant to arrange the -order of his address, and then continued. "Mary, I will tell you -frankly more of my affairs than I have told to almost any person -breathing. In my early days, and indeed _after_ my marriage, I was far, -_far_ too careless in money matters. I involved myself considerably, -and owing to various circumstances, tiresome now to dwell upon, I have -never been able to extricate myself from these difficulties. Henry too, -your brother, is fearfully prodigal--fearfully; and has within the last -three or four years enormously aggravated my embarrassments, and of -course multiplied my anxieties most grievously, most distractingly. I -feel that my spirits are gone, my health declining, and, worse than -all, my temper, yes--my _temper_ soured. You do not know, you cannot -know, how bitterly I feel, with what intense pain, and sorrow, and -contrition, and--and _remorse_, I reflect upon those bursts of -ill-temper, of acrimony, of passion, to which, spite of every -resistance, I am becoming every day more and more prone." Here the -baronet paused to call up a look of compunctious anguish, an effort in -which he was considerably assisted by an acute twinge in his great toe. - -"Yes," he continued, when the pain had subsided, "I am now growing old, -I am breaking very fast, sinking, I feel it--I cannot be very long a -trouble to anybody--embarrassments are closing around me on all -sides--I have not the means of extricating myself--despondency, despair -have come upon me, and with them loss of spirits, loss of health, of -strength, of everything which makes life a blessing; and, all these -privations rendered more horrible, more agonizing, by the reflection -that my ill-humour, my peevish temper, are continually taxing the -patience, wounding the feelings, perhaps alienating the affections of -those who are nearest and dearest to me." - -Here the baronet became _very_ much affected; but, lest his agitation -should be seen, he turned his head away, while he grasped his -daughter's hand convulsively: the poor girl covered his with kisses. He -had wrung her very heart. - -"There is one course," continued he, "by adopting which I might -extricate myself from all my difficulties"--here he raised his eyes -with a haggard expression, and glared wildly along the cornice--"but I -confess I have great hesitation in leaving _you_." - -He wrung her hand very hard, and groaned slightly. - -"Father, dear father," said she, "do not speak thus--do not--you -frighten me." - -"I was wrong, my dear child, to tell you of struggles of which none but -myself ought to have known anything," said the baronet, gloomily. "One -person indeed has the power to assist, I may say, to _save_ me." - -"And who is that person, father?" asked the girl. - -"Yourself," replied Sir Richard, emphatically. - -"How?--I!" said she, turning very pale, for a dreadful suspicion -crossed her mind--"how can _I_ help you, father?" - -The old gentleman explained briefly; and the girl, relieved of her -worst fears, started joyously from her seat, clapped her hands together -with gladness, and, throwing her arms about her father's neck, -exclaimed,-- - -"And is that all?--oh, father; why did you defer telling me so long? -you ought to have known how delighted I would have been to do anything -for you; indeed you ought; tell them to get the papers ready -immediately." - -"They _are_ ready, my dear," said Sir Richard, recovering his -self-possession wonderfully, and ringing the bell with a good deal of -hurry--for he fully acknowledged the wisdom of the old proverb, which -inculcates the expediency of striking while the iron's hot--"your -brother had them prepared yesterday, I believe. Inform Mr. Craven," he -continued, addressing the servant, "that I would be very glad to see -him now, and say he may as well bring in the young gentleman who has -accompanied him." - -Mr. Craven accordingly appeared, and the "young gentleman," who had but -one eye, and a very seedy coat, entered along with him. The latter -personage bustled about a good deal, slapped the deeds very -emphatically down on the table, and rumpled the parchments sonorously, -looked about for pen and ink, set a chair before the document, and then -held one side of the parchment, while Mr. Craven screwed his knuckles -down upon the other, and the parties forthwith signed; whereupon Mr. -Craven and the one-eyed young gentleman both sat down, and began to -sign away with a great deal of scratching and flourishing on the places -allotted for witnesses; after all which, Mr. Craven, raising himself -with a smile, told Miss Ashwoode, facetiously, that the Chancellor -could not have done so much for the deed as she had done; and the -one-eyed young gentleman held his nose contemplatively between his -finger and thumb, and reviewed the signatures with his solitary optic. - -Miss Ashwoode then withdrew, and Mr. Craven and the "young gentleman" -made their bows. Sir Richard beckoned to Mr. Craven, and he glided back -and closed the door, having commanded the "young gentleman" to see if -the coach was ready. - -"You see, Mr. Craven," said Sir Richard, who, spite of all his -philosophy, felt a little ashamed even that the attorney should have -seen the transaction which had just been completed--"you see, sir, I -may as well tell you candidly: my daughter, who has just signed this -deed, is about immediately to be married to Lord Aspenly; _he_ kindly -offered to lend me some fifteen thousand pounds, or thereabouts, and I -converted this offer (which I, of course, accepted), into the -assignment, from his bride, that is to be, of this little property, -giving, of course, to his lordship my personal security for the debt -which I consider as owed to him: this arrangement his lordship -preferred as the most convenient possible. I thought it right, in -strict confidence, of course, to explain the real state of the case to -you, as at first sight the thing looks selfish, and I do not wish to -stand worse in my friends' books than I actually deserve to do." This -was spoken with Sir Richard's most engaging smile, and Mr. Craven -smiled in return, most artlessly--at the same time he mentally -ejaculated, "d----d sly!" "You'll bring this security, my dear Mr. -Craven," continued the baronet, "into the market with all dispatch--do -you think you can manage twenty thousand upon it?" - -"I fear not more than fourteen, or perhaps, sixteen, with an effort. I -do not think Glenvarlogh would carry much more--I fear not; but rely -upon me, Sir Richard; I'll do everything that can be done--at all -events, I'll lose no time about it, depend upon it--I may as well take -this deed along with me--I have the rest; and title is very--_very_ -satisfactory--good-morning, Sir Richard," and the man of parchments -withdrew, leaving Sir Richard in a more benevolent mood than he had -experienced for many a long day. - -The attorney had not been many seconds gone, when a second vehicle -thundered up to the door, and a perfect storm of knocking and ringing -announced the arrival of Lord Aspenly himself. - - - - -CHAPTER XIV. - -ABOUT A CERTAIN GARDEN AND A DAMSEL--AND ALSO CONCERNING A LETTER AND A -RED LEATHERN BOX. - - -Several days passed smoothly away--Lord Aspenly was a perfect paragon -of politeness; but although his manner invariably assumed a peculiar -tenderness whenever he approached Miss Ashwoode, yet that young lady -remained in happy ignorance of his real intentions. She saw before her -a grotesque old fop, who might without any extraordinary parental -precocity have very easily been her grandfather, and in his airs and -graces, his rappee and his rouge (for his lordship condescended to -borrow a few attractions from art), and in the thousand-and-one _et -ceteras_ of foppery which were accumulated, with great exactitude and -precision, on and about his little person, she beheld nothing more than -so many indications of obstinate and inveterate celibacy, and, of -course, interpreted the exquisite attentions which were meant to -enchain her young heart, merely as so much of that formal target -practice in love's archery, in which gallant single gentlemen of -seventy, or thereabout, will sometimes indulge themselves. Emily -Copland, however, at a glance, saw and understood the nature of Lord -Aspenly's attentions, and she saw just as clearly the intended parts -and the real position of the other actors in this somewhat ill-assorted -drama, and thereupon she took counsel with herself, like a wise damsel, -and arrived at the conclusion, that with some little management she -might, very possibly, play her own cards to advantage among them. - -We must here, however, glance for a few minutes at some of the -subordinate agents in our narrative, whose interposition, nevertheless, -deeply, as well as permanently, affected the destinies of more -important personages. - -It was the habit of the beautiful Mistress Betsy Carey, every morning, -weather permitting, to enjoy a ramble in the grounds of Morley Court; -and as chance (of course it was chance) would have it, this early -ramble invariably led her through several quiet fields, and over a -stile, into a prettily-situated, but neglected flower-garden, which was -now, however, undergoing a thorough reform, according to the Dutch -taste, under the presiding inspiration of Tobias Potts. Now Tobias -Potts was a widower, having been in the course of his life twice -disencumbered. The last Mrs. Potts had disappeared some five winters -since, and Tobias was now well stricken in years; he possessed the eyes -of an owl, and the complexion of a turkey-cock, and was, moreover, -extremely hard of hearing, and, withal, a man of few words; he was, -however, hale, upright, and burly--perfectly sound in wind and limb, -and free from vice and children--had a snug domicile, consisting of two -rooms and a loft, enjoyed a comfortable salary, and had, it was -confidently rumoured, put by a good round sum of money somewhere or -other. It therefore struck Mrs. Carey very forcibly, that to be Mrs. -Potts was a position worth attaining; and accordingly, without -incurring any suspicion--for the young women generally regarded Potts -with awe, and the young men with contempt--she began, according to the -expressive phrase in such case made and provided, to set her cap at -Tobias. - -In this, his usual haunt, she discovered the object of her search, -busily employed in superintending the construction of a terrace walk, -and issuing his orders with the brevity, decision, and clearness of a -consummate gardener. - -"Good-morning, Mr. Potts," said the charming Betsy. Mr. Potts did not -hear. "Good-morning, Mr. Potts," repeated the damsel, raising her voice -to a scream. - -Tobias touched his hat with a gruff acknowledgment. - -"Well, but how beautiful you are doing it," shouted the handmaid again, -gazing rapturously upon the red earthen rampart, in which none but the -eye of an artist could have detected the rudiments of a terrace, "it's -wonderful neat, all must allow, and indeed it puzzles my head to think -how you can think of it all; it _is_ now, _raly_ elegant, so it is." - -Tobias did not reply, and the maiden continued, with a sentimental air, -and still hallooing at the top of her voice-- - -"Well, of all the trades that is--and big and little, there's a plenty -of them--there's none I'd choose, if I was a man, before the trade of a -gardener." - -"No, you would not, _I'm_ sure," was the laconic reply. - -"Oh, but I declare and purtest _I would_ though," bawled the young -woman; "for gardeners, old or young, is always so good-humoured, and -pleasant, and fresh-like. Oh, dear, but I would like to be a gardener." - -"Not an _old_ one, howsomever," growled Mr. Potts. - -"Yes, but I would though, I declare and purtest to goodness gracious," -persisted the nymph; "I'd rather of the two perfer to be an _old_ -gardener" (this was a bold stroke of oratory; but Potts did not hear -it); "I'd rather be an _old_ gardener," she screamed a second time; -"I'd rather be an _old_ gardener of the two, so I would." - -"That's more than _I_ would," replied Potts, very abruptly, and with an -air of uncommon asperity, for he silently cherished a lingering belief -in his own juvenility, and not the less obstinately that it was fast -becoming desperate--a peculiarity of which, unfortunately, until that -moment the damsel had never been apprised. This, therefore, was a turn -which a good deal disconcerted the young woman, especially as she -thought she detected a satirical leer upon the countenance of a young -man in crazy inexpressibles, who was trundling a wheelbarrow in the -immediate vicinity; she accordingly exclaimed not loud enough for -Tobias, but quite loud enough for the young man in the infirm breeches -to hear,-- - -"What an old fool. I purtest it's meat and drink to me to tease him--so -it is;" and with a forced giggle she tripped lightly away to retrace -her steps towards the house. - -As she approached the stile we have mentioned, she thought she -distinguished what appeared to be the inarticulate murmurings of some -subterranean voice almost beneath her feet. A good deal startled at so -prodigious a phenomenon, she stopped short, and immediately heard the -following brief apostrophe delivered in a rich brogue:-- - -"Aiqually beautiful and engaging--vartuous Betsy Carey--listen to the -voice of tindher emotion." - -The party addressed looked with some alarm in all directions for any -visible intimation of the speaker's presence, but in vain. At length, -from among an unusually thick and luxuriant tuft of docks and other -weeds, which grew at the edge of a ditch close by, she beheld something -red emerging, which in a few moments she clearly perceived to be the -classical countenance of Larry Toole. - -"The Lord _purtect_ us all, Mr. Toole. Why in the world do you frighten -people this way?" ejaculated the nymph, rather shrilly. - -"Whist! most evangelical iv women," exclaimed Larry in a low key, and -looking round suspiciously--"whisht! or we are ruined." - -"La! Mr. Laurence, what _are_ you after?" rejoined the damsel, with a -good deal of asperity. "I'll have you to know I'm not used to talk with -a man that's squat in a ditch, and his head in a dock plant. That's not -the way for to come up to an honest woman, sir--no more it is." - -"I'd live ten years in a ditch, and die in a dock plant," replied Larry -with enthusiasm, "for one sight iv you." - -"And is that what brought you here?" replied she, with a toss of her -head. "I purtest some people's quite overbearing, so they are, and -knows no bounds." - -"Stop a minute, most beautiful bayin'--for one instant minute pay -attintion," exclaimed Mr. Toole, eagerly, for he perceived that she had -commenced her retreat. "Tare an' owns! divine crature, it's not _goin'_ -you are?" - -"I have no notions, good or bad, Mr. Toole," replied the young lady, -with great volubility and dignity, "and no idaya in the wide world for -to be standing here prating, and talking, and losing my time with such -as you--if my business is neglected, it is not on your back the blame -will light. I have my work, and my duty, and my business to mind, and -if I do not mind them, no one else will do it for me; and I am -astonished and surprised beyant telling, so I am, at the impittence of -some people, thinking that the likes of me has nothing else to be doing -but listening to them discoorsing in a dirty ditch, and more particular -when their conduct has been sich as some people's that is old enough at -any rate to know better." - -The fair handmaiden had now resumed her retreat; so that Larry, having -raised himself from his lowly hiding-place, was obliged to follow for -some twenty yards before he again came up with her. - -"Wait one half second--stop a bit, for the Lord's sake," exclaimed he, -with most earnest energy. - -"Well, wonst for all, Mr. Laurence," exclaimed Mistress Carey severely, -"what _is_ your business with me?" - -"Jist this," rejoined Larry, with a mysterious wink, and lowering his -voice--"a letter to the young mistress from"--here he glanced jealously -round, and then bringing himself close beside her, he whispered in her -ear--"from Mr. O'Connor--whisht--not a word--into her own hand, mind." - -The young woman took the letter, read the superscription, and forthwith -placed it in her bosom, and rearranged her kerchief. - -"Never fear--never fear," said she, "Miss Mary shall have it in half an -hour. And how," added she, maliciously, "_is_ Mr. O'Connor? He is a -lovely gentleman, is not he?" - -"He's uncommonly well in health, the Lord be praised," replied Mr. -Toole, with very unaccountable severity. - -"Well, for my part," continued the girl, "I never seen the man yet to -put beside him--unless, indeed, the young master may be. He's a very -pretty young man--and so shocking agreeable." - -Mr. Toole nodded a pettish assent, coughed, muttered something to -himself, and then inquired when he should come for an answer. - -"I'll have an answer to-morrow morning--maybe this evening," pursued -she; "but do not be coming so close up to the house. Who knows who -might be on our backs in an instant here? I'll walk down whenever I get -it to the two mulberries at the old gate; and I'll go there either in -the morning at this hour, or else a little before supper-time in the -evening." - -Mr. Toole, having gazed rapturously at the object of his tenderest -aspirations during the delivery of this address, was at its termination -so far transported by his feelings, as absolutely to make a kind of -indistinct and flurried attempt to kiss her. - -"Well, I purtest, this is overbearing," exclaimed the virgin; and at -the same time bestowing Mr. Toole a sound box on the ear, she tripped -lightly toward the house, leaving her admirer a prey to what are -usually termed conflicting emotions. - -When Sir Richard returned to his dressing-room at about noon, to -prepare for dinner, he had hardly walked to the toilet, and rung for -his Italian servant, when a knock was heard at his chamber door, and, -in obedience to his summons, Mistress Carey entered. - -"Well, Carey," inquired the baronet, as soon as she had appeared, "do -you bring me any news?" - -The lady's-maid closed the door carefully. - -"News?" she repeated. "Indeed, but I do, Sir Richard--and bad news, I'm -afeard, sir. Mr. O'Connor has written a great long letter to my -mistress, if you please, sir." - -"Have you gotten it?" inquired the baronet, quickly. - -"Yes, sir," rejoined she, "safe and sound here in my breast, Sir -Richard." - -"Your young mistress has not opened it--or read it?" inquired he. - -"Oh, dear! Sir Richard, it is after all you said to me only the other -day," rejoined she, in virtuous horror. "I hope I know my place better -than to be fetching and carrying notes and letters, and all soarts, -unnonst to my master. Don't I know, sir, very well how that you're the -best judge what's fitting and what isn't for the sight of your own -precious child? and wouldn't I be very unnatural, and very hardened and -ungrateful, if I was to be making secrets in the family, and if any -ill-will or misfortunes was to come out of it? I purtest I never--never -would forgive myself--never--no more I ought--never." - -Here Mistress Carey absolutely wept. - -"Give me the letter," said Sir Richard, drily. - -The damsel handed it to him; and he, having glanced at the seal and the -address, deposited the document safely in a small leathern box which -stood upon his toilet, and having locked it safely therein, he turned -to the maid, and patting her on the cheek with a smile, he remarked,-- - -"Be a good girl, Carey, and you shall find you have consulted your -interest best." - -Here Mistress Carey was about to do justice to her own -disinterestedness in a very strong protestation, but the baronet -checked her with an impatient wave of the hand, and continued,-- - -"Say not on any account one word to any person touching this letter, -until you have your directions from me. Stay--this will buy you a -ribbon. Good-bye--be a good girl." - -So saying, the baronet placed a guinea in the girl's hand, which, with -a courtesy, having transferred to her pocket, she withdrew rather -hurriedly, for she heard the valet in the next room. - - - - -CHAPTER XV. - -THE TRAITOR. - - -Upon the day following, O'Connor had not yet received any answer to his -letter. He was, however, not a little surprised instead to receive a -second visit from young Ashwoode. - -"I am very glad, my dear O'Connor," said the young man as he entered, -"to have found you alone. I have been wishing very much for this -opportunity, and was half afraid as I came upstairs that I should again -have been disappointed. The fact is, I wish much to speak to you upon a -subject of great difficulty and delicacy--one in which, however, I -naturally feel so strong an interest, that I may speak to you upon it, -and freely, too, without impertinence. I allude to your attachment to -my sister. Do not imagine, my dear O'Connor, that I am going to lecture -you on prudence and all that; and above all, my dear fellow, do not -think I want to tax your confidence more deeply than you are willing I -should; I know quite enough for all I would suggest; I know the plain -fact that you love my sister--I have long known it, and this is -enough." - -"Well, sir, what follows?" said O'Connor, dejectedly. - -"Do not call me _sir_--call me friend--fellow--fool--anything you -please but that," replied Ashwoode, kindly; and after a brief pause, he -continued: "I need not, and cannot disguise it from you, that I was -much opposed to this, and vexed extremely at the girl's encouragement -of what I considered a most imprudent suit. I have, however, learned to -think differently--very differently. After all my littlenesses and -pettishness, for which you must have, if not abhorred, at least -despised me from your very heart--after all this, I say, your noble -conduct in risking your own life to save my worthless blood is what I -never can enough admire, and honour, and thank." Here he grasped -O'Connor's hand, and shook it warmly. "After this, I tell you, -O'Connor, that were there offered to me, on my sister's behoof, on the -one side the most brilliant alliance in wealth and rank that ever -ambition dreamed of, and upon the other side this hand of yours, I -would, so heaven is my witness, forego every allurement of titles, -rank, and riches, and give my sister to you. I have come here, -O'Connor, frankly to offer you my aid and advice--to prove to you my -sincerity, and, if possible, to realize your wishes." - -O'Connor could hardly believe his senses. Here was the man who, -scarcely six days since, he felt assured, would more readily have -suffered him to thrust him through the body than consent to his -marriage with Mary Ashwoode, now not merely consenting to it, but -offering cordially and spontaneously all the assistance in his power -towards effecting that very object. Had he heard him aright? One look -at his expressive face--the kindly pressure of his hand--everything -assured him that he had justly comprehended all that Ashwoode had -spoken, and a glow of hope, warmer than had visited him for years, -cheered his heart. - -"In the meantime," continued Ashwoode, "I must tell you exactly how -matters stand at Morley Court. The Earl of Aspenly, of whom you may -have heard, is paying his addresses to my sister." - -"The Earl of Aspenly," echoed O'Connor, slightly colouring. "I had not -heard of this before--she did not name him." - -"Yet she has known it a good while," returned Ashwoode, with -well-affected surprise--"a month, I believe, or more. He's now at -Morley Court, and means to make some stay--are you sure she never -mentioned him?" - -"Titled, and, of course, rich," said O'Connor, scarce hearing the -question. "Why should I have heard of this by chance, and from -another--why this reserve--this silence?" - -"Nay, nay," replied Henry, "you must not run away with the matter thus. -Mary may have forgotten it, _or_--or not liked to tell you--not cared -to give you needless uneasiness." - -"I wish she had--I wish she had--I am--I am, indeed, Ashwoode, very, -very unhappy," said O'Connor, with extreme dejection. "Forgive -me--forgive my folly, since folly it seems--I fear I weary you." - -"Well, well, since it seems you have _not_ heard of it," rejoined -Henry, carelessly throwing himself back in his chair, "you may as well -learn it now--not that there is any real cause of alarm in the matter, -as I shall presently show you, but simply that you may understand the -position of the enemy. Lord Aspenly, then, is at present at Morley -Court, where he is received as Mary's lover--observe me, only as her -lover--not yet, and I trust _never_ as her _accepted_ lover." - -"Go on--pray go on," said O'Connor, with suppressed but agonized -anxiety. - -"Now, though my father is very hot about the match," resumed his -visitor, "it may appear strange enough to you that _I_ never was. -There are a few--a very few--advantages in the matter, of course, -viewing it merely in its worldly aspect. But Lord Aspenly's property -is a good deal embarrassed, and he is of violently Whig politics and -connections, the very thing most hated by my old Tory uncle, Oliver -French, whom my father has been anxious to cultivate; besides, the -disparity in years is so very great that it is ridiculous--I might -almost say _indecent_--and this even in point of family standing, and -indeed of reputation, putting aside every better consideration, is -objectionable. I have urged all these things upon my father, and -perhaps we should not find any insurmountable obstacle _there_; but -the fact is, there is another difficulty, one of which until this -morning I never dreamed--the most whimsical difficulty imaginable." -Here the young man raised his eyebrows, and laughed faintly, while he -looked upon the floor, and O'Connor, with increasing earnestness, -implored him to proceed. "It appears so very absurd and perverse an -obstacle," continued Ashwoode, with a very quizzical expression, "that -one does not exactly know how to encounter it--to say the truth, I -think that the girl is a little--perhaps the least imaginable -degree--taken--dazzled--caught by the notion of being a countess; it's -very natural, you know, but then I would have expected better from -her." - -"By heavens, it is impossible!" exclaimed O'Connor, starting to his -feet; "I cannot believe it; you must, indeed, my dear Ashwoode, you -_must_ have been deceived." - -"Well, then," rejoined the young man, "I have lost my skill in reading -young ladies' minds--that's all; but even though I should be right--and -never believe me if I am _not_ right--it does not follow that the giddy -whim won't pass away just as suddenly as it came; her most lasting -impressions--with, I should hope, one exception--were never very -enduring. I have been talking to her for nearly half an hour this -morning--laughing with her about Lord Aspenly's suit, and building -castles in the air about what she will and what she won't do when she's -a countess. But, by the way, how did you let her know that you intend -returning to France at the end of this month, only, as she told me, -however, for a few weeks? She mentioned it yesterday incidentally. -Well, it is a comfort that I hear your secrets, though _you_ won't -entrust them to me. But do not, my dear fellow--_do_ not look so very -black--you very much overrate the firmness of women's minds, and -greatly indeed exaggerate that of my sister's character if you believe -that this vexatious whim which has entered her giddy pate will remain -there longer than a week. The simple fact is that the excitement and -bustle of all this has produced an unusual flow of high spirits, which -will, of course, subside with the novelty of the occasion. Pshaw! why -so cast down?--there is nothing in the matter to surprise one--the -caprice of women knows do rule. I tell you I would almost stake my -reputation as a prophet, that when this giddy excitement passes away, -her feelings will return to their old channel." O'Connor still paced -the room in silence. "Meanwhile," continued the young man, "if anything -occur to you--if I can be useful to you in any way, command me -absolutely, and till you see me next, take heart of grace." He grasped -O'Connor's hand--it was cold as clay; and bidding him farewell, once -more took his departure. - -"Well," thought he, as he threw his leg across his high-bred gelding at -the inn door, "I have shot the first shaft home." - -And so he had, for the heart at which it was directed, unfenced by -suspicion, lay open to his traitorous practices. O'Connor's letter, an -urgent and a touching one, was still unanswered; it never for a moment -crossed his mind that it had not reached the hand for which it was -intended. The maid who had faithfully delivered all the letters which -had passed between them had herself received it; and young Ashwoode had -but the moment before mentioned, from his sister's lips, the subject on -which it was written--his meditated departure for France. This, too, it -appeared, she had spoken of in the midst of gay and light-hearted -trilling, and projects of approaching magnificence and dissipation with -his rich and noble rival. Twice since the delivery of that letter had -his servant seen Miss Ashwoode's maid; and in the communicative -colloquy which had ensued she had told--no doubt according to -well-planned instructions--how gay and unusually merry her mistress -was, and how she passed whole hours at her toilet, and the rest of her -time in the companionship of Lord Aspenly--so that between his -lordship's society, and her own preparations for it, she had scarcely -allowed herself time to read the letter in question, much less to -answer it. - -All these things served to fill O'Connor's mind with vague but -agonizing doubts--doubts which he vainly strove to combat; fears which -had not their birth in an alarmed imagination, but which, alas! were -but too surely approved by reason. The notion of a systematic plot, -embracing so many agents, and conducted with such deep and hellish -hypocrisy, with the sole purpose of destroying affections the most -beautiful, and of alienating hearts the truest, was a thought so -monstrous and unnatural that it never for a second flashed upon his -mind; still his heart struggled strongly against despair. Spite of all -that looked gloomy in what he saw--spite of the boding suggestions of -his worst fears, he would not believe her false to him--that she who -had so long and so well loved and trusted him--she whose gentle heart -he knew unchanged and unchilled by years, and distance, and -misfortunes--that she should, after all, have fallen away from him, and -given up that heart, which once was his, to vanity and the hollow -glitter of the world--this he could hardly bring himself to believe, -yet what was he to think? alas! what? - - - - -CHAPTER XVI. - -SHOWING SIGNOR PARUCCI ALONE WITH THE WIG-BLOCKS--THE BARONET'S -HAND-BELL AND THE ITALIAN'S TASK. - - -Morley Court was a queer old building--very large and very irregular. -The main part of the dwelling, and what appeared to be the original -nucleus, upon which after-additions had grown like fantastic -incrustations, was built of deep-red brick, with many recesses and -projections and gables, and tall and grotesquely-shaped chimneys, and -having broad, jutting, heavily-sashed windows, such as belonged to -Henry the Eighth's time, to which period the origin of the building -was, with sufficient probability, referred. The great avenue, which -extended in a direct line to more than the long half of an Irish mile, -led through double rows of splendid old lime-trees, some thirty paces -apart, and arching in a vast and shadowy groining overhead, to the -front of the building. To the rearward extended the rambling additions -which necessity or caprice had from time to time suggested, as the -place, in the lapse of years, passed into the hands of different -masters. One of these excrescences, a quaint little prominence, with a -fanciful gable and chimney of its own, jutted pleasantly out upon the -green sward, courting the friendly shelter of the wild and graceful -trees, and from its casement commanding through the parting boughs no -views but those of quiet fields, distant woodlands, and the far-off -blue hills. This portion of the building contained in the upper story -one small room, to the full as oddly shaped as the outer casing of -fantastic masonry in which it was inclosed--the door opened upon a back -staircase which led from the lower apartments to Sir Richard's -dressing-room; and partly owing to this convenient arrangement, and -partly perhaps to the comfort and seclusion of the chamber itself, it -had been long appropriated to the exclusive occupation of Signor Jacopo -Parucci, Sir Richard's valet and confidential servant. This man was, as -his name would imply, an Italian. Sir Richard had picked him up, some -thirty years before the period at which we have dated our story, in -Naples, where it was said the baronet had received from him very -important instructions in the inner mysteries of that golden science -which converts chance into certainty--a science in which Sir Richard -was said to have become a masterly proficient; and indeed so loudly had -fame begun to bruit his excellence therein, that he found it at last -necessary, or at least highly advisable, to forego the fascinations of -the gaming-table, and to bid to the worship of fortune an eternal -farewell, just at the moment when the fickle goddess promised with -golden profusion to reward his devotion. - -Whatever his reason was, Sir Richard had been to this man a good -master; he had, it was said, and not without reason, enriched him; and, -moreover, it was a strange fact, that in all his capricious and savage -moods, from whose consequences not only his servants but his own -children had no exemption, he had never once treated this person -otherwise than with the most marked civility. What the man's services -had actually been, and to what secret influence he owed the close and -confidential terms upon which he unquestionably stood with Sir Richard, -these things were mysteries, and, of course, furnished inexhaustible -matter of scandalous speculation among the baronet's dependents and -most intimate friends. - -The room of which we speak was Parucci's snuggery. It contained in a -recess behind the door that gentleman's bed--a plain, low, uncurtained -couch; and variously disposed about the apartment an abundance of -furniture of much better kind; the recess of the window was filled by a -kind of squat press, which was constructed in the lower part, and which -contained, as certain adventurous chambermaids averred, having peeped -into its dim recesses when some precious opportunity presented itself, -among other shadowy shapes, the forms of certain flasks and bottles -with long necks, and several tall glasses of different dimensions. Two -or three tables of various sizes of dark shining wood, with legs after -the fashion of the nether limbs of hippogriffs and fauns, seemed about -to walk from their places, and to stamp and claw at random about the -floor. A large, old press of polished oak, with spiral pillars of the -same flanking it in front, contained the more precious articles of -Signor Parucci's wardrobe. Close beside it, in a small recess, stood a -set of shelves, on which were piled various matters, literary and -otherwise, among which perhaps none were disturbed twice in the year, -with the exception of six or eight packs of cards, with which, for old -associations' sake, Signor Jacopo used to amuse himself now and again -in his solitary hours. - -On one of the tables stood two blocks supporting each a flowing black -peruke, which it was almost the only duty of the tenant of this -interesting sanctuary to tend, and trim, and curl. Upon the dusky -tapestry were pinned several coloured prints, somewhat dimmed by time, -but evidently of very equivocal morality. A birding-piece and a -fragment of a fishing-rod covered with dust, neither of which Signor -Parucci had ever touched for the last twenty years, were suspended over -the mantelpiece; and upon the side of the recess, and fully lighted by -the window, in attestation of his gentler and more refined pursuits, -hung a dingy old guitar apparently still in use, for the strings, -though a good deal cobbled and knotted, were perfect in number. A huge, -high-backed, well-stuffed chair, in which a man might lie as snugly as -a kernel in its shell, was placed at the window, and in it reclined the -presiding genius of the place himself, with his legs elevated so as to -rest upon the broad window-sill, formed by the roof of the mysterious -press which we have already mentioned. The Italian was a little man, -very slight, with long hair, a good deal grizzled, flowing upon his -shoulders; he had a sallow complexion and thin hooked nose, piercing -black eyes, lean cheeks, and sharp chin--and altogether a lank, -attenuated, and somewhat intellectual cast of face, with, however, a -certain expression of malice and cunning about the leer of his eye, as -well as in the character of his thin and colourless lip, which made him -by no means a very pleasant object to look upon. - -"Fine weather--almost Italy," said the little man, lazily pushing open -the casement with his foot. "I am surprise, good, dear, sweet Sir -Richard, his bell is stop so long quiet. Why is it not go ding, ding, -dingeri, dingeri, ding-a-ding, ding, as usual. Damnation! what do I -care he ring de bell and I leesten. We are not always young, and I must -be allow to be a leetle deaf when he is allow to be a leetle gouty. -Gode blace my body, how hot is de sun. Come down here, leer of -Apollo--come to my arm, meestress of my heart--Orpheus' leer, come -queekly." This was addressed to the ancient instrument of music which -we have already mentioned, and the invitation was accompanied by an -appropriate elevation of his two little legs, which he raised until he -gently closed his feet upon the sides of the "leer of Apollo," which, -with a good deal of dexterity, he unhung from its peg, and conveyed -within reach of his hand. He cast a look of fond admiration at its -dingy and time-dried face, and forthwith, his heels still resting upon -the window-sill, he was soon thrumming a tinkling symphony, none of the -most harmonious, and then, with uncommon zeal, he began, to his own -accompaniment, to sing some ditty of Italian love. While engaged in -this refined and touching employment, he espied, with unutterable -indignation, a young urchin, who, attracted by the sounds of his -amorous minstrelsy, and with a view to torment the performer, who was -an extremely unpopular personage, had stationed himself at a little -distance before the casement, and accompanied the vocal performance of -the Italian with the most hideous grimaces, and the most absurd and -insulting gesticulations. - -Signor Parucci would have given a good round sum to have had the -engaging boy by the ears; but this he knew was out of the question; he -therefore (for he was a philosopher) played and sung on without -evincing the smallest consciousness of what was going forward. His -plans of vengeance were, however, speedily devised and no less quickly -executed. There lay upon the window-sill a fragment of biscuit, which -in the course of an ecstatic flourish the little man kicked carelessly -over. The bait had hardly touched the ground beneath the casement when -Jacopo, continuing to play and sing the while, and apparently -unconscious of anything but his own music, to his infinite delight -beheld the boy first abate his exertions, and finally put an end to his -affronting pantomime altogether, and begin to manoeuvre in the -direction of the treacherous windfall. The youth gradually approached -it, and just at the moment when it was within his grasp, Signor -Parucci, with another careless touch of his foot, sent over a large -bow-pot well stored with clay, which stood upon the window-block. The -descent of this ponderous missile was followed by a most heart-stirring -acclamation from below; and good Mr. Parucci, clambering along the -window-sill, and gazing downward, was regaled by the spectacle of the -gesticulating youth stamping about the grass among what appeared to be -the fragments of a hundred flower-pots, writhing and bellowing in -transports of indignation and bodily torment. - -"Povero ragazzo--Carissimo figlio," exclaimed the valet, looking out -with an expression of infinite sweetness, "my dear child and charming -boy, how 'av you broke my flower-pote, and when 'av you come here. Ah! -per Bacco, I think I 'av see you before. Ah! yees, you are that -sweetest leetel boy that was leestening at my music--so charming just -now. How much clay is on your back! a cielo! amiable child, you might -'av keel yourself. Sacro numine, what an escape! Say your prayer, and -thank heaven you are safe, my beautiful, sweetest, leetel boy. God -blace you. Now rone away very fast, for fear you pool the other two -flower-potes on your back, sweetest child. Gode bless you, amiable -boy--they are very large and very heavy." - -The youth took the hint, and having had quite enough of Mr. Parucci's -music for the evening, withdrew under the combined influences of fury -and lumbago. The little man threw himself back in his chair, and hugged -his shins in sheer delight, grinning and chattering like a delirious -monkey, and rolling himself about, and laughing with the most exquisite -relish. At length, after this had gone on for some time, with the air -of a man who has had enough of trifling, and must now apply himself to -matters of graver importance, he arose, hung up his guitar, sent his -chair, which was upon casters, rolling to the far end of the room, and -proceeded to arrange the curls of one of the two magnificent perukes, -on which it was his privilege to operate. After having applied himself -with uncommon attention to this labour of taste for some time in -silence, he retired a few paces to contemplate the effect of his -performance--whereupon he fell into a musing mood, and began after his -fashion to soliloquize with a good deal of energy and volubility in -that dialect which had become more easy to him than his mother tongue. - -"_Corpo di Bacco!_ what thing is life! who would believe thirty years -ago I should be here now in a barbaroose island to curl the wig of an -old gouty blackguard--but what matter. I am a philosopher--damnation--it -is very well as it is--per Bacco! I can go way when I like. I am reech -leetle fellow, and with Sir Richard, good Sir Richard, I do always -whatever I may choose. Good Sir Richard," he continued, addressing the -block on which hung the object of his tasteful labours, as if it had -been the baronet in person--"good Sir Richard, why are you so kind to -me, when you are so cross as the old devil in hell with all the rest -of the world?--why, why, why? Shall I say to you the reason, good, -kind Sir Richard? Well, I weel. It is because you dare not--dare -not--dare not-da-a-a-are not vaix me. I am, you know, dear Sir -Richard, a poor, leetle foreigner, who is depending on your goodness. -I 'ave nothing but your great pity and good charity--oh, no! I am -nothing at all; but still you dare not vaix me--you moste not be -angry--note at all--but very quiet--you moste not go in a passion--oh! -never--weeth me--even if I was to make game of you, and to insult you, -and to pool your nose." - -Here the Italian seized, with the tongs which he had in his hand, upon -that prominence in the wooden block which corresponded in position with -the nose, which at other times the peruke overshadowed, and with a grin -of infinite glee pinched and twisted the iron instrument until the -requirements of his dramatic fancy were satisfied, when he delivered -two or three sharp knocks on the smooth face of the block, and resumed -his address. - -"No, no--you moste not be angry, fore it would be great misfortune--oh, -it would--if you and I should quarrel together; but tell me now, old -_truffatore_--tell me, I say, am I not very quiet, good-nature, -merciful, peetying faylow? Ah, yees--very, very--_Madre di Dio_--very -moche; and dear, good Sir Richard, shall I tell you why I am so very -good-nature? It is because I love you joste as moche as you love me--it -is because, most charitable patron, it is my convenience to go on weeth -you quietly and 'av no fighting yet--bote you are going to get money. -Oh! so coning you are, you think I know nothing--you think I am -asleep--bote I know it--I know it quite well. You think I know nothing -about the land you take from Miss Mary. Ah! you are very coning--oh! -very; but I 'av hear it all, and I tell you--and I swear _per sangue di -D----_, when you get that money I shall, and will, and moste--_mo-ooste_ -'av a very large, comfortable, beeg handful--do you hear me? Oh, you -very coning old rascal; and if you weel not geeve it, oh, my dear Sir -Richard, echellent master, I am so moche afaid we will 'av a fight -between us--a quarrel--that will spoil our love and friendship, and -maybe, helas! horte your reputation--shoking--make the gentlemen spit -on you, and avoid you, and call you all the ogly names--oh! shoking." - -Here he was interrupted by a loud ringing in Sir Richard's chamber. - -"There he is to pool his leetle bell--damnation, what noise. I weel go -up joste now--time enough, dear, good, patient Sir Richard--time -enough--oh, plainty, plainty." - -The little man then leisurely fumbled in his pocket until he brought -forth a bunch of keys, from which, having selected one, he applied it -to the lock of the little press which we have already mentioned, whence -he deliberately produced one of the flasks which we have hinted at, -along with a tall glass with a spiral stem, and filling himself a -bumper of the liquor therein contained, he coolly sipped it to the -bottom, accompanied throughout the performance by the incessant -tinkling of Sir Richard's hand-bell. - -"Ah, very good, most echellent--thank you, Sir Richard, you 'av give me -so moche time and so moche music, I 'av drunk your very good health." - -So saying, he locked up the flask and glass again, and taking the block -which had just represented Sir Richard in the imaginary colloquy in his -hand, he left his own chamber, and ran upstairs to the baronet's -dressing-room. He found his master alone. - -"Ah, Jacopo," exclaimed the baronet, looking somewhat flushed, but -speaking, nevertheless, in a dulcet tone enough, "I have been ringing -for nearly ten minutes; but I suppose you did not hear me." - -"Joste so as you 'av say," replied the man. "Your _signoria_ is very -seldom wrong. I was so charmed with my work I could not hear nothing." - -"Parucci," rejoined Sir Richard, after a slight pause, "you know I keep -no secrets from you." - -"Ah, you flatter me, Signor--you flatter me--indeed you do," said the -valet, with ironical humility. - -His master well understood the tone in which the fellow spoke, but did -not care to notice it. - -"The fact is, Jacopo," continued Sir Richard, "you already know so many -of my secrets, that I have now no motive in excluding you from any." - -"Goode, kind--oh, very kind," ejaculated the valet. - -"In short," continued his master, who felt a little uneasy under the -praises of his attendant--"in short, to speak plainly, I want your -assistance. I know your talents well. You can imitate any handwriting -you please to copy with perfect accuracy. You must copy, in the -handwriting of this manuscript, the draft of a letter which I will hand -you this evening. You require some little time to study the character; -so take the letter with you, and be in my room at ten to-night. I will -then hand you the draft of what I want written. You understand?" - -"Understand! To be sure--most certilly I weel do it," replied the -Italian, "so that the great devil himself will not tell the writing of -the two, _l'un dall' altro_, one from the other. Never fear--geeve me -the letter. I must learn the writing. I weel be here to-night before -you are arrive, and I weel do it very fast, and so like--bote you know -how well I can copy. Ah! yees; you know it, Signor. I need not tell." - -"No more at present," said the baronet, with a gesture of caution. -"Assist me to dress." - -The Italian accordingly was soon deep in the mysteries of his elaborate -functions, where we shall leave him and his master for the present. - - - - -CHAPTER XVII. - -DUBLIN CASTLE BY NIGHT--THE DRAWING-ROOM--LORD WHARTON AND HIS COURT. - - -Sir Richard Ashwoode had set his heart upon having Lord Aspenly for his -son-in-law; and all things considered, his lordship was, perhaps, -according to the standard by which the baronet measured merit, as good -a son-in-law as he had any right to hope for. It was true, Lord Aspenly -was neither very young nor very beautiful. Spite of all the ingenious -arts by which he reinforced his declining graces, it was clear as the -light that his lordship was not very far from seventy; and it was just -as apparent that it was not to any extraordinary supply of bone, -muscle, or flesh that his vitality was attributable. His lordship was a -little, spindle-shanked gentleman, with the complexion of a consumptive -frog, and features as sharp as edged tools. He condescended to borrow -from the artistic talents of his valet the exquisite pencilling of his -eyebrows, as well as the fine black line which gave effect to a set of -imaginary eyelashes, and depth and brilliancy to a pair of eyes which, -although naturally not very singularly effective, had, nevertheless, -nearly as much vivacity in them as they had ever had. His smiles were -perennial and unceasing, very winning and rather ghastly. He used much -gesticulation, and his shrug was absolutely Parisian. To all these -perfections he added a wonderful facility in rounding the periods of a -compliment, and an inexhaustible affluence of something which passed -for conversation. Thus endowed, and having, moreover, the additional -recommendation of a handsome income, a peerage, and an unencumbered -celibacy, it is hardly wonderful that his lordship was unanimously -voted by all prudent and discriminating persons, without exception, the -most fascinating man in all Ireland. Sir Richard Ashwoode was not one -whit more in earnest in desiring the match than was Lord Aspenly -himself. His lordship had for some time begun to suspect that he had -nearly sown his wild oats--that it was time for him to reform--that he -was ripe for the domestic virtues, and ought to renounce scamp-hood. He -therefore, in the laboratory of his secret soul, compounded a virtuous -passion, which he resolved to expend upon the first eligible object who -might present herself. Mary Ashwoode was the fortunate damsel who first -happened to come within the scope and range of his lordship's -premeditated love; and he forthwith in a matrimonial paroxysm applied, -according to the good old custom, not to the lady herself, but to Sir -Richard Ashwoode, and was received with open arms. - -The baronet indeed, as the reader is aware, anticipated many -difficulties in bringing the match about; for he well knew how deeply -his daughter's heart was engaged, and his misgivings were more sombre -and frequent than he cared to acknowledge even to himself. He resolved, -however, that the thing should be; and he was convinced, that if his -lordship only were firm, spite of fate he would effect it. In order -then to inspire Lord Aspenly with this desirable firmness, he not -unwisely believed that his best course was to exhibit him as much as -possible in public places, in the character of the avowed lover of Mary -Ashwoode; a position which, when once unequivocally assumed, afforded -no creditable retreat, except through the gates of matrimony. It was -arranged, therefore, that the young lady, under the protection of Lady -Stukely, and accompanied by Lord Aspenly and Henry Ashwoode, should -attend the first drawing-room at the Castle, a ceremonial which had -been fixed to take place a few days subsequently to the arrival of Lord -Aspenly at Morley Court. Those who have seen the Castle of Dublin only -as it now stands, have beheld but the creation of the last sixty or -seventy years, with the exception only of the wardrobe tower, an old -grey cylinder of masonry, very dingy and dirty, which appears to have -gone into half mourning for its departed companions, and presents -something of the imposing character of an overgrown, mouldy band-box. -At the beginning of the last century, however, matters were very -different. The trim brick buildings, with their spacious windows and -symmetrical regularity of structure, which now complete the quadrangles -of the castle, had not yet appeared; but in their stead masses of -building, constructed with very little attention to architectural -precision, either in their individual formation or in their relative -position, stood ranged together, so as to form two irregular and gloomy -squares. That portion of the building which was set apart for state -occasions and the vice-regal residence, had undergone so many repairs -and modifications, that very little if any of it could have been -recognized by its original builder. Not so, however, with other -portions of the pile: the ponderous old towers, which have since -disappeared, with their narrow loop-holes and iron-studded doors -looming darkly over the less massive fabrics of the place with stern -and gloomy aspect, reminded the passer every moment, that the building -whose courts he trod was not merely the theatre of stately ceremonies, -but a fortress and a prison. - -The viceroyalty of the Earl of Wharton was within a few weeks of its -abrupt termination; the approaching discomfiture of the Whigs was not, -however, sufficiently clearly revealed, to thin the levees and -drawing-rooms of the Whig lord-lieutenant. The castle yards were, -therefore, upon the occasion in question, crowded to excess with the -gorgeous equipages in which the Irish aristocracy of the time -delighted. The night had closed in unusual darkness, and the massive -buildings, whose summits were buried in dense and black obscurity, were -lighted only by the red reflected glow of crowded flambeaux and -links--which, as the respective footmen, who attended the crowding -chairs and coaches flourished them according to the approved fashion, -scattered their wide showers of sparks into the eddying air, and -illumined in a broad and ruddy glare, like that of a bonfire, the -gorgeous equipages with which the square was now thronged, and the -splendid figures which they successively discharged. There were -coaches-and-four--out-riders--running footmen and hanging -footmen--crushing and rushing--jostling and swearing--and burly -coachmen, with inflamed visages, lashing one another's horses and their -own. Lackeys collaring and throttling one another, all "for their -master's honour," in the hot and disorderly dispute for precedence, and -some even threatening an appeal to the swords--which, according to the -barbarous fashion of the day, they carried, to the no small peril of -the public and themselves. Others dragging the reins of strangers' -horses, and backing them to make way for their own--a proceeding which, -of course, involved no small expenditure of blasphemy and vociferation. -On the whole, it would not be easy to exaggerate the scene of riot and -confusion which, under the very eye of the civil and military executive -of the country, was perpetually recurring, and that, too, ostensibly in -honour of the supreme head of the Irish Government. - -Through all this crash, and clatter, and brawling, and vociferation, -the party whom we are bound to follow made their way with some -difficulty and considerable delay. - -The Earl of Wharton with his countess, surrounded by a brilliant staff, -and amid all the pomp and state of vice-regal dignity, received the -distinguished courtiers who thronged the castle chambers. At the time -of which we write, Lord Wharton was in his seventieth year. Few, -however, would have guessed his age at more than sixty, though many -might have supposed it under that. He was rather a spare figure, with -an erect and dignified bearing, and a countenance which combined -vivacity, good-humour, and boldness in an eminent degree. His manners -were, to those who did not know how unreal was everything in them that -bore the promise of good, singularly engaging, and that in spite of a -very strong spice of coarseness, and a very determined addiction to -profane swearing. He had, however, in his whole air and address a kind -of rollicking, good-humoured familiarity, which was very generally -mistaken for the quintessence of candour and good-fellowship, and which -consequently rendered him unboundedly popular among those who were not -aware of the fact that his complimentary speeches meant just nothing, -and were very often followed, the moment the object of them had -withdrawn, by the coarsest ridicule, and even by the grossest abuse. -For the rest, he was undoubtedly an able statesman, and had clearly -discerned and adroitly steered his way through the straits and perils -of troublous and eventful times. He was, moreover, a steady and -uncompromising Whig, upon whom, throughout a long and active life, the -stain of inconsistency had never rested; a thorough partisan, a quick -and ready debater, and an unscrupulous and daring political intriguer. -In private, however, entirely profligate--a sensualist and an infidel, -and in both characters equally without shame. - -Through the rooms there wandered a very wild, madcap boy of some ten or -eleven years, venting his turbulent spirits in all kinds of mischievous -pranks--sometimes planting himself behind Lord Wharton, and mimicking, -with ludicrous exaggeration, which the courtly spectators had enough to -do to resist, the ceremonious gestures and gracious nods of the -viceroy; at other times assuming a staid and manly carriage, and -chatting with his elders with the air of perfect equality, and upon -subjects which one would have thought immeasurably beyond his years, -and this with a sound sense, suavity, and precision which would have -done honour to many grey heads in the room. This strange, bold, -precocious boy of eleven was Philip, afterwards Duke of Wharton, the -wonder and the disgrace of the British peerage. - -"Ah! Mr. Morris," exclaimed his excellency, as a middle-aged gentleman, -with a fluttered air, a round face, and vacant smile, approached, "I am -delighted to see you--by ---- Almighty I am--give me your hand. I have -written across about the matter we wot of: but for these cursed -contrary winds, I make no doubt I should have had a letter before now. -Is the young gentleman himself here?" - -"A--a--not quite, your excellency. That is, not at--all," stammered the -gentleman, in mingled delight and alarm. "He is, my lord, a--a--laid -up. He--a--it is a sore throat. Your excellency is most gracious." - -"Tell him from me," rejoined Wharton, "that he must get well as quickly -as may be. We don't know the moment he may be wanted. You understand -me?" - -"I--a--do indeed," replied Mr. Morris, retiring in graceful confusion. - -"A d----d impudent booby," whispered Wharton to Addison, who stood -beside him, uttering the remark without the change of a single muscle. -"He has made some cursed unconscionable request about his son. I'gad, I -forget what; but we want his vote on Tuesday; and civility, you know, -costs no coin." - -Addison smiled faintly, and shook his head. - -"May the Lord pardon us all," exclaimed a country clergyman in a rusty -gown and ill-dressed wig, with a pale, attenuated, eager face, which -told mournful tales of short commons and hard work; he had been for -some time an intense and a grieved listener to the lord-lieutenant's -conversation, and was now slowly retiring with a companion as humble as -himself from the circle which surrounded his excellency, with simple -horror impressed upon his pale features--"may the Lord preserve us all, -how awful it is to hear one so highly trusted by _Him_, take His name -thus momentarily in vain. Lord Wharton is, I fear me much, an habitual -profane swearer." - -"Believe me, sir, you are very simple," rejoined a young clergyman who -stood close to the position which the speaker now occupied. "His -excellency's object in swearing by the different persons of the Trinity -is to show that he believes in revealed religion--a fact which else -were doubtful; and this being his main object, it is manifestly a -secondary consideration to what particular asseveration or promises his -excellency happens to tack his oaths." - -The lank, pale-faced prebendary looked suddenly and earnestly round -upon the person who had accosted him, with an expression of curiosity -and wonder, evidently in some doubt as to the spirit in which the -observation had been made. He beheld a tall, stalwart man, arrayed in a -clerical costume as rich as that of a churchman who has not attained to -the rank of a dignitary in his profession could well be, and in all -points equipped with the most perfect neatness. In the face he looked -in vain for any indication of jocularity. It was a striking -countenance--striking for the extreme severity of its expression, and -for its stern and handsome outline. The eye which encountered the -inquiring glance of the elder man was of the clearest blue, singularly -penetrating and commanding--the eyebrow dark and shaggy--the lips full -and finely formed, but in their habitual expression bearing a character -of haughty and indomitable determination--the complexion of the face -was dark; and as the country prebendary gazed upon the countenance, -full, as it seemed, of a scornful, stern, merciless energy and -decision, something told him, that he looked upon one born to lead and -to command the people. All this he took in at a glance: and while he -looked, Addison, who had detached himself from the vice-regal coterie, -laid his hand upon the shoulder of the stern-featured young clergyman. - -"Swift," said he, drawing him aside, "we see you too seldom here. His -excellency begins to think and to hope you have reconsidered what I -spoke about when last we met. Believe me, you wrong yourself in not -rendering what service you can to men who are not ungrateful, and who -have the power to reward. You were always a Whig, and a pamphlet were -with you but the work of a few days." - -"Were I to write a pamphlet," rejoined Swift, "it is odds his -excellency would not like it." - -"Have you not always been a Whig?" urged Addison. - -"Sir, I am not to be taken by nicknames," rejoined Swift. "I know -Godolphin, and I know Lord Wharton. I have long distrusted the -government of each. I am no courtier, Mr. Secretary. What I suspect I -will not seem to trust--what I hate I hate entirely, and renounce -openly. I have heard of my Lord Wharton's doing, too. When I refused -before to understand your overtures to me to write a pamphlet for his -friends, he was pleased to say I refused because he would not make me -his chaplain--in saying which he knowingly and malignantly lied; and to -this lie he, after his accustomed fashion, tacked a blasphemous oath. -He is therefore a perjured liar. I renounce him as heartily as I -renounce the devil. I am come here, Mr. Secretary, not to do reverence -to Lord Wharton--God forbid!--but to offer my homage to the majesty of -England, whose brightness is reflected even in that cracked and -battered piece of pinchbeck yonder. Believe me, should his excellency -be rash enough to engage me in talk to-night, I shall take care to let -him know what opinion I have of him." - -"Come, come, you must not be so dogged," rejoined Addison. "You know -Lord Wharton's ways. He says a good deal more than he cares to be -believed--everybody knows _that_--and all take his lordship's -asseverations with a grain of allowance; besides, you ought to consider -that when a man unused to contradiction is crossed by disappointment, -he is apt to be choleric, and to forget his discretion. We all know his -faults; but even you will not deny his merits." - -Thus speaking, he led Swift toward the vice-regal circle, which they -had no sooner reached than Wharton, with his most good-humoured smile, -advanced to meet the young clergyman, exclaiming,-- - -"Swift! so it is, by ----! I am glad to see you--by ---- I am." - -"I am glad, my lord," replied Swift, gravely, "that you take such -frequent occasion to remind this godless company of the presence of the -Almighty." - -"Well, you know," rejoined Wharton, good-humouredly, "the Scripture -saith that the righteous man sweareth to his neighbour." - -"And _disappointeth_ him not," rejoined Swift. - -"And disappointeth him not," repeated Wharton; "and by ----," continued -he, with marked earnestness, and drawing the young politician aside as -he spoke, "in whatsoever I swear to thee there shall be no -disappointment." - -He paused, but Swift remained silent. The lord-lieutenant well knew -that an English preferment was the nearest object of the young -churchman's ambition. He therefore continued,-- - -"On my soul, we want you in England--this is no stage for you. By ---- -you cannot hope to serve either yourself or your friends in this -place." - -"Very few thrive here but scoundrels, my lord," rejoined Swift. - -"Even so," replied Wharton, with perfect equanimity--"it is a nation of -scoundrels--dissent on the one side and popery on the other. The upper -order harpies, and the lower a mere prey--and all equally liars, -rogues, rebels, slaves, and robbers. By ---- some fine day the devil -will carry off the island bodily. For very safety you must get out of -it. By ---- he'll have it." - -"I am not enough in the devil's confidence to speak of his designs with -so much authority as your lordship," rejoined Swift; "but I incline to -think that under your excellency's administration it will answer his -end as well to leave the island where it is." - -"Ah! Swift, you are a wag," rejoined the viceroy; "but by ---- I honour -and respect your spirit. I know we shall agree yet--by ---- I know it. -I respect your independence and honesty all the more that they are -seldom met with in a presence-chamber. By ---- I respect and love you -more and more every day." - -"If your lordship will forego your professions of love, and graciously -confine yourself to the backbiting which must follow, you will do for -me to the full as much as I either expect or desire," rejoined Swift, -with a grave reverence. - -"Well, well," rejoined the viceroy, with the most unruffled -good-humour, "I see, Swift, you are in no mood to play the courtier -just now. Nevertheless, bear in mind what Addison advised you to -attempt; and though we part thus for the present, believe me, I love -you all the better for your honest humour." - -"Farewell, my lord," repeated Swift, abruptly, and with a formal bow he -retired among the common throng. - -"A hungry, ill-conditioned dog," said Wharton, turning to the person -next him, "who, having never a bone to gnaw, whets his teeth on the -shins of the company." - -Having vented this little criticism, the viceroy resumed once more the -formal routine of state hospitality. - -"It is time we were going," suggested Mary Ashwoode to Emily Copland. -"My lord," she continued, turning to Lord Aspenly, whose attentions had -been just as conspicuous and incessant as Sir Richard Ashwoode could -have wished them, "Do you know where Lady Stukely is?" - -Lord Aspenly professed his ignorance. - -"Have _you_ seen her ladyship?" inquired Emily Copland of the gallant -Major O'Leary, who stood near her. - -"Upon my conscience, I have," rejoined the major. "I'm not considered a -poltroon; but I plead guilty to one weakness. I am bothered if I can -stand fire when it appears in the nose of a gentlewoman; so as soon as -I saw her I beat a retreat, and left my valorous young nephew to stand -or fall under the blaze of her artillery. She is at the far end of the -room." - -The major was easily persuaded to undertake the mission, and a word to -young Ashwoode settled the matter. The party accordingly left the -rooms, having, however, previously to their doing so, arranged that -Major O'Leary should pass the next day at Morley Court, and afterwards -accompany them in the evening to the theatre, whither Sir Richard, in -pursuance of his plans, had arranged that they should all repair. - - - - -CHAPTER XVIII. - - -THE TWO COUSINS--THE NEGLECTED JEWELS AND THE BROKEN SEAL. - -It was drawing toward evening when Emily Copland, in high spirits, and -richly and becomingly dressed, ran lightly to the door of her cousin's -chamber. She knocked, but no answer was returned. She knocked again, -but still without any reply. Then opening the door, she entered the -room, and beheld her cousin Mary seated at a small work-table, at which -it was her wont to read. There she lay motionless--her small head -leaned upon her graceful arms, over which flowed all negligently the -dark luxuriant hair. An open letter was on the table before her, and -two or three rich ornaments lay unheeded on the floor beside her, as if -they had fallen from her hand. There was in her attitude such a -passionate abandonment of grief, that she seemed the breathing image of -despair. Spite of all her levity, the young lady was touched at the -sight. She approached her gently, and laying her hand upon her -shoulder, she stooped down and kissed her. - -"Mary, dear Mary, what grieves you?" she said. "Tell me. It's I, -dear--your cousin Emily. There's a good girl--what has happened to vex -you?" - -Mary raised her head, and looked in her cousin's face. Her eye was -wild--she was pale as marble, and in her beautiful face was an -expression so utterly woeful and piteous, that Emily was almost moved. - -"Oh! I have lost him--for ever and ever I have lost him," said she, -despairingly. "Oh! cousin, dear cousin, he is gone from me. God pity -me--I am forsaken." - -"Nay, cousin, do not say so--be cheerful--it cannot be--there, there," -and Emily Copland kissed the poor girl's pale lips. - -"Forsaken--forsaken," continued Mary, for she heard not and heeded not -the voice of vain consolation. "He has thrown me off for ever--for -ever--quite--quite. God pity me, where shall I look for hope?" - -"Mary, dear Mary," said her cousin, "you are ill--do not give way thus. -Be assured it is not as you think. You must be in error." - -"In error! Oh! that I could think so. God knows how gladly I would give -my poor life to think so. No, no--it is real--all real. Oh! cousin, he -has forsaken me." - -"I cannot believe it--I _can_ not," said Emily Copland. "Such folly can -hardly exist. I will not believe it. What reason have you for thinking -him changed?" - -"Read--oh, read it, cousin," replied the girl, motioning toward the -letter, which lay open on the table--"read it once, and you will not -bid me hope any more. Oh! cousin, dear cousin, there is no more joy for -me in this world, turn where I will, do what I may--I am heart-broken." - -Emily Copland glanced through the letter, shook her head, and dropped -the note again where it had been lying. - -"You know, cousin Emily, how I loved him," continued Mary, while for -the first time the tears flowed fast--"you know that day after day, -among all that happened to grieve me, my heart found rest in his -love--in the hope and trust that he would never grow cold; -and--and--oh! God pity me--_now_ where is it all? You see--you know his -love is gone from me--for evermore--gone from me. Oh! how I used to -count the days and hours till the time would come round when I could -see him and speak to him--but this has all gone. Hereafter all days are -to be the same--morning or evening, summer time or winter--no change of -seasons or of hours can bring to me any more hope or gladness, but ever -the same--sorrow and desolate loneliness--for oh! cousin, I am very -desolate, and hopeless, and heart-broken." - -The poor girl threw her arms round her cousin's neck, and sobbed and -wept, and wept and sobbed again, as though her heart would break. Long -and bitterly she wept upon her cousin's neck in silence, unbroken, -except by her sobs. After a time, however, Emily Copland exclaimed,-- - -"Well, Mary, to say the truth, I never much liked the matter; and as he -is a fool, and an _ungrateful_ fool to boot, I am not sorry that he has -shown his character as he has done. Believe me, painful as such -discoveries are when made thus early, they are incomparably more -agonizing when made too late. A little--a very little--time will enable -you quite to forget him." - -"No, cousin," replied Mary--"no, I never will forget him. He is changed -indeed--greatly changed from what he was--bitterly has he disappointed -and betrayed me; but I cannot forget him. There shall indeed never more -pass word or look between us; he shall be to me as one that is dead, -whom I shall hear and see no more; but the memory of what he was--the -memory of what I vainly thought him--shall remain with me while my poor -heart beats." - -"Well, Mary, time will show," said Emily. - -"Yes, time will show--time will show," replied she, mournfully; "be the -time long or short, it will show." - -"You _must_ forget him--you _will_ forget him; a few weeks, and you -will thank your stars you found him out so soon." - -"Ah, cousin," replied Mary, "you do not know how all my thoughts, and -hopes, and recollections--everything I liked to remember, and to look -forward to; you cannot know how all that was happy in my life--but what -boots it, I will keep my troth with him; I will love no other, and wed -with no other; and while this sorrowful life remains I will -never--never--forget him." - -"I can only say, that were the case my own," rejoined Emily, "I would -show the fellow how lightly I held him and his worthless heart, and -marry within a month; but every one has her own way of doing things. -Remember it is nearly time to start for the theatre; the coach will be -at the door in half-an-hour. Surely you will come; it would seem so -very strange were you to change your mind thus suddenly; and you may be -very sure that, by some means or other, the impudent fellow--about -whom, I cannot see why, you care so much--would hear of all your -grieving, and pining, and love-sickness. Pah! I'd rather die than -please the hollow, worthless creature by letting him think he had -caused me a moment's uneasiness; and then, above all, Sir Richard would -be so outrageously angry--why, you would never hear the end of it. -Come, come, be a good girl. After all, it is only holding up your head, -and looking pretty, which you can't help, for an hour or two. You must -come to silence gossip abroad, as well as for the sake of peace at -home--you _must_ come." - -"I would fain stay here at home," said the poor girl; "heart and head -are sick: but if you think my father would be angry with me for staying -at home, I will go. It is indeed, as you say, a small matter to me -where I pass an hour or two; all times, all places--crowds or -solitudes--are henceforward indifferent to me. What care I where they -bring me! Cousin Emily, I will do whatever you think best." - -The poor girl spoke with a voice and look of such utter wretchedness, -that even her light-hearted, worldly, selfish cousin was touched with -pity. - -"Come, then; I will assist you," said she, kissing the pale cheek of -the heart-stricken girl. "Come, Mary, cheer up, you must call up your -good looks it would never do to be seen thus." And so talking on, she -assisted her to dress. - -Gaily and richly arrayed in the gorgeous and by no means unbecoming -style of the times, and sparkling with brilliant jewels, poor Mary -Ashwoode--a changed and stricken creature, scarcely conscious of what -was going on around her--took her place in her father's carriage, and -was borne rapidly toward the theatre. - -The party consisted of the two young ladies, who were respectively -under the protection of Lord Aspenly, who sate beside Mary Ashwoode, -happily too much pleased with his own voluble frivolity to require -anything more from her than her appearing to hear it, and young -Ashwoode, who chatted gaily with his pretty cousin. - -"What has become of my venerable true-love, Major O'Leary?" inquired -Miss Copland. - -"He will follow on horseback," replied Ashwoode. "I beheld him, as I -passed downstairs, admiring himself before the looking-glass in his new -regimentals. He designs tremendous havoc to-night. His coat is a -perfect phenomenon--the investment of a year's pay at least--with more -gold about it than I thought the country could afford, and scarlet -enough to make a whole wardrobe for the lady of Babylon--a coat which, -if left to itself, would storm the hearts of nine girls out of ten, and -which, even with an officer in it, will enthral half the sex." - -"And here comes the coat itself," exclaimed the young lady, as the -major rode up to the coach-window--"I'm half in love with it myself -already." - -"Ladies, your devoted slave: gentlemen, your most obedient," said the -major, raising his three-cornered hat. "I hope to see you before -half-an-hour, under circumstances more favourable to conversation. Miss -Copland, depend upon it, with your permission, I'll pay my homage to -you before half-an-hour, the more especially as I have a scandalous -story to tell you. Meanwhile, I wish you all a safe journey, and a -pleasant one." So saying, the major rode on, at a brisk pace, to the -"Cock and Anchor," there intending to put up his horse, and to exchange -a few words with young O'Connor. - -In the meantime the huge old coach, which contained the rest of the -party, jolted and rumbled on, until at length, amid the confusion and -clatter of crowded vehicles, restive horses, and vociferous coachmen, -with all their accompaniments of swearing and whipping, the clank of -scrambling hoofs, the bumping and hustling of carriages, and the -desperate rushing of chairmen, bolting this way or that, with their -living loads of foppery and fashion--the coach-door was thrown open at -the box-entrance of the Theatre Royal, in Smock Alley. - - - - -CHAPTER XIX. - -THE THEATRE--THE RUFFIAN--THE ASSAULT, AND THE RENCONTRE. - - -Major O'Leary had hardly dismounted in the quadrangle of the "Cock and -Anchor," when O'Connor rode slowly into the inn-yard. - -"How are you, my dear fellow?" exclaimed the man of scarlet and gold; -"I was just asking where you were. Come down off that beast, I want to -have a word in your ear--a bit of news--some fun. Descend, I say, -descend." - -O'Connor accordingly dismounted. - -"Now then--a hearty shake--so. I have great news, and only a minute to -tell it. Jack, run like a shot, and get me a chair. Here, Tim, take a -napkin and an oyster-knife, and do not leave a bit of mud, or the sign -of it, upon my back: take a general survey of the coat and breeches, -and a particular review of the wig. And, Jem, do you give my boots a -harum-scarum shot of a superficial scrub, and touch up the hat--gently, -do you mind--and take care of the lace. So while the fellows are -finishing my toilet, I may as well tell you my morsel of news. Do you -know who is to be at the playhouse to-night?" - -O'Connor expressed his ignorance. - -"Well, then, I'll tell you, and make what use you like of it," resumed -the major. "Miss Mary Ashwoode! There's for you. Take my advice, get -into a decent coat and breeches, and run down to the theatre--it is not -five minutes' walk from this; you'll easily find us, and I'll take care -to make room for you. Why, you do not seem half pleased: what more can -you wish for, unless you expect the girl to put up for the evening at -the "Cock and Anchor"? Rouse yourself. If you feel modest, there is -nothing like a pint or two of Madeira: don't try brandy--it's the -father and mother of all sorts of indiscretions. Now, mind, you have -the hint; it is an opportunity you ought to improve. By the powers, if -I was in your place--but no matter. You may not have an opportunity of -seeing her again these six months; and unless I'm completely mistaken, -you are as much in love with the girl as I am with--several that shall -be nameless. Heigho! next after Burgundy, and the cock-pit, and the -fox-hounds, and two or three more frailties of the kind, there is -nothing in the world I prefer to flirtation, without much minding -whether I'm the principal or the second in the affair. But here comes -the vehicle." - -Accordingly, without waiting to say any more, the major took his seat -in the chair, and was borne by the lusty chairmen, at a swinging pace, -through the narrow streets, and, without let or accident, safely -deposited within the principal entrance of the theatre. - -The theatre of Smock Alley (or, as it was then called, Orange Street) -was not quite what theatres are nowadays. It was a large building of -the kind, as theatres were then rated, and contained three galleries, -one above the other, supported by heavy wooden caryatides, and richly -gilded and painted. The curtain, instead of rising and falling, opened, -according to the old fashion, in the middle, and was drawn sideways -apart, disclosing no triumphs of illusive colouring and perspective, -but a succession of plain tapestry-covered screens, which, from early -habit, the audience accommodatingly accepted for town or country, dry -land or sea, or, in short, for any locality whatsoever, according to -the manager's good will and pleasure. This docility and good faith on -the part of the audience were, perhaps, the more praiseworthy, inasmuch -as a very considerable number of the aristocratic spectators actually -sate in long lines down either side of the stage--a circumstance -involving, by the continuous presence of the same perukes, and the same -embroidered waistcoats, the same set of countenances, and the same set -of legs, in every variety of clime and situation through which the -wayward invention of the playwright hurried his action, a very severe -additional tax upon the imaginative faculties of the audience. But -perhaps the most striking peculiarities of the place were exhibited in -the grim persons of two _bonâ fide_ sentries, in genuine cocked hats -and scarlet coats, with their enormous muskets shouldered, and the -ball-cartridges dangling in ostentatious rows from their bandoleers, -planted at the front, and facing the audience, one at each side of the -stage--a vivid evidence of the stern vicissitudes and insecurity of the -times. For the rest, the audience of those days, in the brilliant -colours, and glittering lace, and profuse ornament, which the gorgeous -fashion of the time allowed, presented a spectacle of rich and dazzling -magnificence, such as no modern assembly of the kind can even faintly -approach. - -The major had hardly made his way to the box where his party were -seated, when his attention was caught by an object which had for him -all but irresistible attractions: this was the buxom person of Mistress -Jannet Rumble, a plump, good-looking, young widow of five-and-forty, -with a jolly smile, a hearty laugh, and a killing acquaintance with the -language of the eyes. These perfections--for of course her jointure, -which, by the way, was very considerable, could have had nothing to do -with it--were too much for Major O'Leary. He met the widow -accidentally, made a few careless inquiries about her finances, and -fell over head and ears in love with her upon the shortest possible -notice. Our friend had, therefore, hardly caught a glimpse of her, when -Miss Copland, beside whom he was seated, observed that he became -unusually meditative, and at length, after two or three attempts to -enter again into conversation--all resulting in total and incoherent -failure, the major made some blundering excuse, took his departure, and -in a moment had planted himself beside the fascinating Mistress -Rumble--where we shall allow him the protection of a generous -concealment, and suffer him to read the lady's eyes, and insinuate his -soft nonsense, without intruding for a moment upon the sanctity of -lovers' mutual confidences. - -Emily Copland having watched and enjoyed the manoeuvres of her military -friend till she was fairly tired of the amusement, and having in vain -sought to engage Henry Ashwoode, who was unusually moody and absent, in -conversation, at length, as a last desperate resource, turned her -attention to what was passing upon the stage. - -While all this was going forward, young Ashwoode was a good deal -disconcerted at observing among the crowd in the pit a personage with -whom, in the vicious haunts which he frequented, he had made a sort of -ambiguous acquaintance. The man was a bulky, broad-shouldered, -ill-looking fellow, with a large, vulgar, red face, and a coarse, -sensual mouth, whose blue, swollen lips indicated habitual -intemperance, and the nauseous ugliness of which was further enhanced -by the loss of two front teeth, probably by some violent agency, as was -testified by a deep scar across the mouth; the eyes of the man carried -that uncertain expression, half of shame and half of defiance, which -belongs to the coward, bully, and ruffian. The blackness of -habitually-indulged and ferocious passion was upon his countenance; and -the revolting character of the face was the more unequivocally marked -by a sort of smile, or rather sneer, which had in it neither -intellectuality nor gladness--an odious libel on the human smile, with -nothing but brute insolence and scorn, and a sardonic glee in its -baleful light--a smile from which every human sympathy recoiled abashed -and affrighted. Let not the reader imagine that the man and the -character are but the dreams of fiction; the wretch, whose outward -seeming we have imperfectly sketched, lived and moved in the scenes -where we have fixed our narrative--there grew rich--there rioted in the -indulgence of every passion which hell can inspire or to which wealth -can pander--there ministered to his insatiate avarice, by the -destruction and beggary of thousands of the young and thoughtless--and -there at length, in the fulness of his time, died--in the midst of -splendour and infamy: with malignant and triumphant perseverance having -persisted to his latest hour in the prosecution of his Satanic mission; -luring the unwary into the toils of crime and inextricable madness, and -thence into the pit of temporal and eternal ruin. This man, Nicholas -Blarden, Esquire, was the proprietor of one of those places where -fortunes are squandered, time sunk, habits, temper, character, morals, -all, corrupted, blasted, destroyed--one of those places which are set -apart as the especial temples of avarice, in which, year after year, -are for ever recurring the same perennial scenes of mad excess, of -calculating, merciless fraud, of bleak, brain-stricken despair--places -to which has been assigned, in a spirit of fearful truth, the -appellative of "hell." - -The man whom we have mentioned, it had never been young Ashwoode's -misfortune to meet, except in those scenes where his acquaintance was -useful, without being actually discreditable; for it was the fellow's -habit, with the instinctive caution which marks such gentlemen, to -court public observation as little as possible, and to skulk -systematically from the eye of popular scrutiny--seldom embarrassing -his aristocratic acquaintances by claiming the privilege of recognition -at unseasonable times; and confining himself, for the most part, -exclusively to his own coterie. Independently of his unpleasant natural -peculiarities there were other circumstances which tended to make him a -conspicuous object in the crowd--the fellow was extravagantly -over-dressed, and had planted himself in a standing posture upon a -bench, and from this elevated position was, with steady effrontery, -gazing into the box in which young Ashwoode's party were seated, -exchanging whispers and horse-laughs with three or four men who looked -scarcely less villainous than himself, and, as soon became apparent, -directing his marked and exclusive attention to Miss Ashwoode, who was -too deeply absorbed in her own sorrowful reflections to heed what was -passing around her. The young man felt his choler mount, as he beheld -the insolent conduct of the fellow--he saw, however, that Blarden was -evidently not perfectly sober, and hesitated what course he should -take. Strongly as he was tempted to spring at once into the pit, and -put an end to the impertinence by caning the fellow within an inch of -his life, he yet felt that a disreputable conflict of the kind had -better be avoided, and could not well be justified except as a last -resource; he, therefore, made up his mind to bear it as long as human -endurance could. - -Whatever hopes he entertained of escaping a collision with this man -were, however, destined to be disappointed. Nicky Blarden (as his -friends endearingly called him), to the great comfort of that part of -the audience in his immediate neighbourhood, at length descended from -his elevated stand, but not to conceal himself among the less obtrusive -spectators. With an insolent swagger the fellow shouldered his way -among the crowd towards the box where the object of his gaze was -seated; and, having planted himself directly beneath it, he stared -impudently up at young Ashwoode, exclaiming at the same time,-- - -"I say, Ashwoode, how does the world wag with you?--why ain't you -rattling the bones this evening? d----n me, you may as well be off, and -let me take care of the dimber mot up there?" - -"Do you speak to _me_, sir?" inquired young Ashwoode, turning almost -livid with passion, and speaking in that subdued tone, and with that -constrained coolness, which precedes some ungovernable outburst of -fury. - -"Why, ---- me, how great we've got all at once--I say, you don't know -me--Eh! don't you?" exclaimed the fellow, with vulgar scorn, at the -same time rather roughly poking Ashwoode's hand with the hilt of his -sword. - -"I shall show you, sir, when your drunken folly has passed away, by -very sore proofs, that I _do_ know you," replied the young man, -clutching his cane with such a grip as threatened to force his fingers -into it--"be assured, sir, I shall know you, and you me, as long as you -have the power to remember." - -"Whieu, d---- it, don't frighten us," said the fellow, looking round -for the approbation of his companions. "I say, d----n it, don't -frighten the people--come, come, no gammon. I say, Ashwoode, you must -introduce me, or present me, or whatever's the word, to your sister up -there--I say you _must_." - -"Quit this part of the house this instant, sir, or nothing shall -prevent me flogging you until I leave not a whole bone in your -body--this warning is the last--profit by it," rejoined Ashwoode, in a -low tone of bitter rage. - -"Oh, ho! it's there you are--is it?" rejoined the fellow, with a wink -at his comrades, "so you're going to beat the people--why, d----n it, -you're enough to make a horse laugh. I say I want to know your sister, -or your miss, or whatever she is, with the black hair up there, and if -you won't introduce me, d----n it, I must only introduce myself." - -So saying, the fellow made a spring and caught the ledge of the front -of the box, with the intention of vaulting into the place. Lord Aspenly -and the young ladies had arisen in some alarm. - -"My lord," said young Ashwoode, "have the goodness to conduct the -ladies to the lobby--I will join you in a moment." - -This direction was promptly obeyed, and at the same moment the young -man caught the fellow, already half into the box, by the neckcloth, -dragged his body across the wooden parapet, and while he struggled -helplessly to disengage himself--half strangled, and without the power -to get either up or down--with his heavy cane, the young -gentleman--every nerve, sinew, and muscle being strung to tenfold power -by fury--inflicted upon his back and ribs a castigation so prolonged -and tremendous, that before it had ended, the scoundrel was perfectly -insensible, in which state Henry Ashwoode flung him down again into the -pit, amid the obstreperous acclamations of all parts of the house--an -uproar of applause in which the spectators in the pit joined with such -hearty enthusiasm, that at length, touched with a kindred heroism, they -turned upon the associates of the fallen champion, and fairly kicked -and cuffed them out of the house. - -This feat accomplished, the young gentleman went down the stairs to the -street-entrance, and, after considerable delay, succeeded, with the -assistance of the footman who had attended him into the house, in -finding out their carriage, and having it brought to the door--not -judging it expedient that the ladies should return to their places, -where they would, of course, be exposed to the gazing curiosity of the -multitude. He found the party in the lobby quite recovered from -whatever was unpleasant in the excitement of the scene, the more -violent part of which they had not witnessed. Lord Aspenly and Emily -Copland were laughing over the adventure; and Mary, flashed and -agitated, was looking better than she had before upon that night. -Taking his cousin under his own protection, and consigning his sister -to that of Lord Aspenly, young Ashwoode led the way to the carriage. As -they passed slowly along the lobby, the quick eye of Mary Ashwoode -discerned a form, at sight of which her heart swelled and throbbed as -though it would burst--the colour fled from her cheeks, and she felt -for a moment on the point of swooning; the pride of her sex, however, -sustained her; the tingling blood again mounted warmly to her cheeks, -her eye brightened, and she listened, with more apparent interest than -perhaps she ever did before, to Lord Aspenly's remarks--the form was -O'Connor's. As she passed him, she returned his salute with a slight -and haughty bow, and saw, and felt the stern, cold, proud expression -which marked his pale and handsome features. In another moment she was -seated in the carriage; the doors were closed, crack went the whip, and -clatter go the iron hoofs on the pavement--but before they had -traversed a hundred yards on their homeward way, poor Mary Ashwoode -sunk back in her place, and fainted away. - - - - -CHAPTER XX. - -THE LODGING--YOUNG MELANCHOLY AND OLD REMEMBRANCES--AN ADVENTURE AMONG -THE YEW HEDGES OF MORLEY COURT. - - -"There is no more doubt--no more hope"--said O'Connor, as, wrapt in his -cloak, he slowly pursued his way homeward--"the worst _is_ true--she is -quite estranged from me--how deceived--how utterly blind I have -been--yet who could have thought it? Light-hearted, vain, worthless--it -is all, all true--my own eyes have seen it. Well, even this must be -borne--borne as best it may, and with a manly spirit. I have been, -indeed, miserably cheated"--he continued, with bitter vehemence--"and -what remains for me? I've been infatuated--a self-flattered fool, and -waken thus to find _all_ lost--but grief avails not--there lie before -me many paths of honourable toil, and many avenues to honourable -death--the ambition of my life is over--henceforth the world has -nothing to offer me. I will leave this, the country of my ill-fated -birth--leave it for ever, and end my days honourably, and God grant -soon, far away from the only one I ever loved--from her who has -betrayed me." - -Such were the thoughts which darkly and vaguely hurried through -O'Connor's mind as he retraced his steps. Before he had arrived, -however, at the "Cock and Anchor," whitherward he had mechanically -directed his course, he bethought himself, and turned in a different -direction towards the house in which his worthy friend, Mr. -Audley--having an inveterate prejudice against all inns, which, without -exception, he averred to be the especial sanctuaries of damp sheets, -bugs, thieves, and rheumatic fevers--had already established himself as -a weekly lodger. - -"Pooh, pooh! you foolish boy," ejaculated the old bachelor, with -considerable energy, in reply to O'Connor's gloomy and passionate -language; "nonsense, sir, and folly, and absurdity--you'll give me the -vapours if you go on this way--what the devil do you want of foreign -service and foreign graves--do you think, booby, it was for that I came -over here--tilly vally, tilly vally--I know as well as you, or any -other jackanapes, what love is. I tell you, sirrah, _I_ have been in -love, and _I_ have been jilted--_jilted_, sir! and when I _was_ jilted, -I thought the jilting itself quite enough, without improving the matter -by getting myself buried, dead or alive." Here the little gentleman -knocked the table recklessly with his knuckles, buried his hands in his -breeches pockets, and rising from his chair, paced the room with an -impressive tread. "Had you ever seen Letty Bodkin you might, indeed, -have known what love is"--he continued, breathing very hard--"Letty -Bodkin jilted me, and I got over it. I did not ask for razors, or -cannon balls, or foreign interment, sir; but I vented my indignation -like a man of business, in totting up the books, and running up a heavy -arrear in the office accounts--yes, sir, I did more good in the way of -arithmetic and book-keeping during that three weeks of love-sick agony, -than an ordinary man, without the stimulus, would do in a year"--there -was another pause here, and he resumed in a softened tone--"but Letty -Bodkin was no ordinary woman. Oh! you scoundrel, had you seen her, -you'd have been neither to hold nor to bind--there was nothing she -could not do--she embroidered a waistcoat for me--heigho! scarlet -geraniums and parsley sprigs--and she danced like--like a--a spring -board--she'd sail through a minuet like a duck in a pond, and hop and -bounce through 'Sir Roger de Coverley' like a hot chestnut on a -griddle;--and then she sang--oh, her singing!--I've heard turtle-doves -and thrushes, and, in fact, most kind of fowls of all sorts and sizes; -but no nightingale ever came up to her in 'The Captain endearing and -tall,' and 'The Shepherdess dying for love'--there never lived a -man"--continued he, with increasing vehemence--"I don't care when or -where, who could have stood, sate, or walked in her company for -half-an-hour, without making an old fool of himself--she was just my -age, perhaps a year or two more--I wonder whether she is much -changed--heigho!" - -Having thus delivered himself, Mr. Audley lapsed into meditation, and -thence into a faint and rather painful attempt to vocalize his -remembrance of "The Captain endearing and tall," engaged in which -desperate operation of memory, O'Connor left the old gentleman, and -returned to his temporary abode to pass a sleepless night of vain -remembrances, regrets, and despair. - -On the morning subsequent to the somewhat disorderly scene which we -have described as having occurred in the theatre, Mary Ashwoode, as -usual, sate silent and melancholy, in the dressing-room of her father, -Sir Richard. The baronet was not yet sufficiently recovered to venture -downstairs to breakfast, which in those days was a very early meal -indeed. After an unusually prolonged silence, the old man, turning -suddenly to his daughter, abruptly said, "Mary, you have now had some -days to study Lord Aspenly--how do you like him?" - -The girl raised her eyes, not a little surprised at the question, and -doubtful whether she had heard it aright. - -"I say," resumed he, "you ought to have been able by this time to -arrive at a fair judgment as to Lord Aspenly's merits--what do you -think of him--do you like him?" - -"Indeed, father," replied she, "I have observed him very little--he may -be a very estimable man, but I have not seen enough of him to form any -opinion; and indeed, if I had, _my_ opinion must needs be a matter of -the merest indifference to him and everyone else." - -"Your opinion upon this point," replied Sir Richard, tartly, "happens -_not_ to be a matter of indifference." - -A considerable pause again ensued, during which Mary Ashwoode had ample -time to reflect upon the very unpleasant doubts which this brief -speech, and the tone in which it was uttered, were calculated to -inspire. - -"Lord Aspenly's manners are very agreeable, _very_," continued Sir -Richard, meditatively--"I may say, indeed, fascinating--_very_--do you -think so?" he added sharply, turning towards his daughter. - -This was rather a puzzling question. The girl had never thought about -him except as a frivolous old beau; yet it was plain she could not say -so without vexing her father; she therefore adopted the simplest -expedient under such perplexing circumstances, and preserved an -embarrassed silence. - -"The fact is," said Sir Richard, raising himself a little, so as to -look full in his daughter's face, at the same time speaking slowly and -sternly, "the fact is, I had better be explicit on this subject. _I_ am -anxious that you should think well of Lord Aspenly; it is, in short, my -wish and pleasure that you should _like_ him; you understand me--you -had _better_ understand me." This was said with an emphasis not to be -mistaken, and another pause ensued. "For the present," continued he, -"run down and amuse yourself--and--stay--offer to show his lordship the -old terrace garden--do you mind? Now, once more, run away." - -So saying, the old gentleman turned coolly from her, and rang his -hand-bell vehemently. Scarcely knowing what she did, such was her -astonishment at all that had passed, Mary Ashwoode left the room -without any very clear notion as to whither she was going, or what to -do; nor was her confusion much relieved when, on entering the hall, the -first object which encountered her was Lord Aspenly himself, with his -triangular hat under his arm, while he adjusted his deep lace -ruffles--he had never looked so ugly before. As he stood beneath her -while she descended the broad staircase, smiling from ear to ear, and -bowing with the most chivalric profundity, his skinny, lemon-coloured -face, and cold, glittering little eyes raised toward her--she thought -that it was impossible for the human shape so nearly to assume the -outward semblance of a squat, emaciated toad. - -"Miss Ashwoode, as I live!" exclaimed the noble peer, with his most -gracious and fascinating smile. "On what mission of love and mercy does -she move? Shall I hope that her first act of pity may be exercised in -favour of the most devoted of her slaves? I have been looking in vain -for a guide through the intricacies of Sir Richard's yew hedges and -leaden statues; may I hope that my presiding angel has sent me one in -you?" - -Lord Aspenly paused, and grinned wider and wider, but receiving no -answer, he resumed,-- - -"I understand, Miss Ashwoode, that the pleasure-grounds, which surround -us, abound in samples of your exquisite taste; as a votary of Flora, -may I ask, if the request be not too bold, that you will vouchsafe to -lead a bewildered pilgrim to the object of his search? There is--is -there not?--shrined in the centre of these rustic labyrinths, a small -flower-garden which owes its sweet existence to your creative genius; -if it be not too remote, and if you can afford so much leisure, allow -me to implore your guidance." - -As he thus spoke, with a graceful flourish, the little gentleman -extended his hand, and courteously taking hers by the extreme points of -the fingers, he led her forward in a manner, as he thought, so engaging -as to put resistance out of the question. Mary Ashwoode felt far too -little interest in anything but the one ever-present grief which -weighed upon her heart, to deny the old fop his trifling request; -shrouding her graceful limbs, therefore, in a short cloak, and drawing -the hood over her head, she walked forth, with slow steps and an aching -heart, among the trim hedges which fenced the old-fashioned pleasure -walks. - -"Beauty," exclaimed the nobleman, as he walked with an air of romantic -gallantry by her side, and glancing as he spoke at the flowers which -adorned the border of the path--"beauty is nowhere seen to greater -advantage than in spots like this; where nature has amassed whatever is -most beautiful in the inanimate creation, only to prove how unutterably -more exquisite are the charms of _living_ loveliness: these walks, but -this moment to me a wilderness, are now so many paths of magic -pleasure--how can I enough thank the kind enchantress to whom I owe the -transformation?" Here the little gentleman looked unutterable things, -and a silence of some minutes ensued, during which he effected some -dozen very wheezy sighs. Emboldened by Miss Ashwoode's silence, which -he interpreted as a very unequivocal proof of conscious tenderness, he -resolved to put an end to the skirmishing with which he had opened his -attack, and to commence the action in downright earnestness. "This -place breathes an atmosphere of romance; it is a spot consecrated to -the worship of love; it is--it is the shrine of passion, and I--_I_ am -a votary--a worshipper." - -Miss Ashwoode paused in mingled surprise and displeasure, for his -vehemence had become so excessive as, in conjunction with his asthma, -to threaten to choke his lordship outright. When Mary Ashwoode stopped -short, Lord Aspenly took it for granted that the crisis had arrived, -and that the moment for the decisive onset was now come; he therefore -ejaculated with a rapturous croak,-- - -"And you--_you_ are my divinity!" and at the same moment he descended -stiffly upon his two knees, caught her hand in his, and began to mumble -it with unmistakable devotion. - -"My lord--Lord Aspenly!--surely your lordship cannot mean--have done, -my lord," exclaimed the astonished girl, withdrawing her hand -indignantly from his grasp. "Rise, my lord; you cannot mean otherwise -than to mock me by such extravagance. My lord--my lord, you surprise -and shock me beyond expression." - -"Angel of beauty! most exquisite--most perfect of your sex," gasped his -lordship, "I love you--yes, to distraction. Answer me, if you would not -have me expire at your feet--ugh--ugh--tell me that I may -hope--ugh--that I am not indifferent to you--ugh, ugh, ugh,--that--that -you can love me?" Here his lordship was seized with so violent a fit of -coughing, that Miss Ashwoode began to fear that he would expire at her -feet in downright earnest. During the paroxysm, in which, with one hand -pressed upon his side, he supported himself by leaning with the other -upon the ground, Mary had ample time to collect her thoughts, so that -when at length he had recovered his breath, she addressed him with -composure and decision. - -"My lord," she said, "I am grateful for your preference of me; -although, when I consider the shortness of my acquaintance with you, -and how few have been your opportunities of knowing me, I cannot but -wonder very much at its vehemence. For me, your lordship cannot feel -more than an idle fancy, which will, no doubt, pass away just as -lightly as it came; and as for my feelings, I have only to say, that it -is wholly impossible for you ever to establish in them any interest of -the kind you look for. Indeed, indeed, my lord, I hope I have not given -you pain--nothing can be further from my wish than to do so; but it is -my duty to tell you plainly and at once my real feelings. I should -otherwise but trifle with your kindness, for which, although I cannot -return it as you desire, I shall ever be grateful." - -Having thus spoken, she turned from her noble suitor, and began to -retrace her steps rapidly towards the house. - -"Stay, Miss Ashwoode--remain here for a moment--you _must_ hear me!" -exclaimed Lord Aspenly, in a tone so altered, that she involuntarily -paused, while his lordship, with some difficulty, raised himself again -to his feet, and with a flushed and haggard face, in which still -lingered the ghastly phantom of his habitual smile, he hobbled to her -side. "Miss Ashwoode," he exclaimed, in a tone tremulous with emotions -very different from love, "I--I--I am not used to be treated -cavalierly--I--I will not brook it: I am not to be trifled -with--jilted--madam, jilted, and taken in. You have accepted and -encouraged my attentions--attentions which you cannot have mistaken; -and now, madam, when I make you an offer--such as your ambition, your -most presumptuous ambition, dared not have anticipated--the offer of my -hand--and--and a coronet, you coolly tell me you never cared for me. -Why, what on earth do you look for or expect?--a foreign prince or -potentate, an emperor, ha--ha--he--he--ugh--ugh--ugh! I tell you -plainly, Miss Ashwoode, that _my_ feelings _must_ be considered. I have -long made my passion known to you; it has been encouraged; and I have -obtained Sir Richard's--your father's--sanction and approval. You had -better reconsider what you have said. I shall give you an hour; at the -end of that time, unless you see the propriety of avowing feelings -which, you must pardon me when I say it, your encouragement of my -advances has long virtually acknowledged, I must lay the whole case, -including all the painful details of my own ill-usage, before Sir -Richard Ashwoode, and trust to his powers of persuasion to induce you -to act reasonably, and, I _will_ add, _honourably_." - -Here his lordship took several extraordinarily copious pinches of -snuff, after which he bowed very low, conjured up an unusually hideous -smile, in which spite, fury, and triumph were eagerly mingled, and -hobbled away before the astonished girl had time to muster her spirits -sufficiently to answer him. - - - - -CHAPTER XXI. - -WHO APPEARED TO MARY ASHWOODE AS SHE SATE UNDER THE TREES--THE -CHAMPION. - - -With flashing eyes and a swelling heart, struck dumb with unutterable -indignation, the beautiful girl stood fixed in the attitude in which -his last words had reached her, while the enraged and unmanly old fop -hobbled away, with the ease and grace with which a crippled ape might -move over a hot griddle. He had disappeared for some minutes before she -had recovered herself sufficiently to think or speak. - -"If _he_ were by my side," she said, "this noble lord dared not have -used me thus. Edmond would have died a thousand deaths first. But oh! -God look upon me, for _his_ love is gone from me, and I am now a poor, -grieved, desolate creature, with none to help me." - -Thus saying, she sate herself down upon the grass bank, beneath the -tall and antique trees, and wept with all the bitter and devoted -abandonment of hopeless sorrow. From this unrestrained transport of -grief she was at length aroused by the pressure of a hand, gently and -kindly laid upon her shoulder. - -"What vexes you, Mary, my little girl?" inquired Major O'Leary, for he -it was that stood by her. "Come, darling, don't fret, but tell your old -uncle the whole business, and twenty to one, he has wit enough in his -old noddle yet to set matters to rights. So, so, my darling, dry your -pretty eyes--wipe the tears away; why should they wet your young -cheeks, my poor little doat, that you always were. It is too early yet -for sorrow to come on you. Wouldn't I throw myself between my little -pet and all grief and danger? Then trust to me, darling; wipe away the -tears, or by ---- I'll begin to cry myself. Dry your eyes, and see if I -can't help you one way or another." - -The mellow brogue of the old major had never fallen before with such a -tender pathos upon the ear of his beautiful niece, as now that its rich -current bore full upon her heart the unlooked-for words of kindness and -comfort. - -"Were not you always _my_ pet," continued he, with the same tenderness -and pity in his tone, "from the time I first took you upon my knee, my -poor little Mary? And were not you fond of your old rascally uncle -O'Leary? Usedn't I always to take your part, right or wrong; and do you -think I'll desert you now? Then tell it all to me--ain't I your poor -old uncle, the same as ever? Come, then, dry the tears--there's a -darling--wipe them away." - -While thus speaking, the warm-hearted old man took her hand, with a -touching mixture of gallantry, pity, and affection, and kissed it again -and again, with a thousand accompanying expressions of endearment, such -as in the days of her childhood he had been wont to lavish upon his -little favourite. The poor girl, touched by the kindness of her early -friend, whose good-natured sympathy was not to be mistaken, gradually -recovered her composure, and yielding to the urgencies of the major, -who clearly perceived that something extraordinarily distressing must -have occurred to account for her extreme agitation, she at length told -him the immediate cause of her grief and excitement. The major listened -to the narrative with growing indignation, and when it had ended, he -inquired, in a tone, about whose unnatural calmness there was something -infinitely more formidable than in the noisiest clamour of fury,-- - -"Which way, darling, did his lordship go when he left you?" - -The girl looked in his face, and saw his deadly purpose there. - -"Uncle, my own dear uncle," she cried distractedly, "for God's sake do -not follow him--for God's sake--I conjure you, I implore--" She would -have cast herself at his feet, but the major caught her in his arms. - -"Well, well, my darling." he exclaimed, "I'll not _kill_ him, well as -he deserves it--I'll not: you have saved his life. I pledge you my -honour, as a gentleman and a soldier, I'll not harm him for what he has -said or done this day--are you satisfied?" - -"I am, I am! Thank God, thank God!" exclaimed the poor girl, eagerly. - -"But, Mary, I must see him," rejoined the major; "he has threatened to -set Sir Richard upon you--I must see him; you don't object to that, -under the promise I have made? I want to--to _reason_ with him. He -shall not get you into trouble with the baronet; for though Richard and -I came of the same mother, we are not of the same marriage, nor of the -same mould--I would not for a cool hundred that he told his story to -your father." - -"Indeed, indeed, dear uncle," replied the girl, "I fear me there is -little hope of escape or ease for me. My father must know what has -passed; he will learn it inevitably, and then it needs no colouring or -misrepresentation to call down upon me his heaviest displeasure; his -anger I must endure as best I may. God help me. But neither threats nor -violence shall make me retract the answer I have given to Lord Aspenly, -nor ever yield consent to marry _him_--nor any other now." - -"Well, well, little Mary," rejoined the major, "I like your spirit. -Stand to that, and you'll never be sorry for it. In the meantime, I'll -venture to exercise his lordship's conversational powers in a brief -conference of a few minutes, and if I find him as reasonable as I -expect, you'll have no cause to regret my interposition. Don't look so -frightened--haven't I promised, on the honour of a gentleman, that I -will _not_ pink him for anything said or done in his conference with -you? To send a small sword through a bolster or a bailiff," he -continued, meditatively, "is an _indifferent_ action; but to spit such -a poisonous, crawling toad as the respectable old gentleman in -question, would be nothing short of _meritorious_--it is an act that -'ud tickle the fancy of every saint in heaven, and, if there's justice -on earth, would canonize myself. But never mind, I'll let it alone--the -little thing shall escape, since _you_ wish it--Major O'Leary has said -it, so let no doubt disturb you. Good-bye, my little darling, dry your -eyes, and let me see you, before an hour, as merry as in the merriest -days that are gone." - -So saying, Major O'Leary patted her cheek, and taking her hand -affectionately in both his, he added,-- - -"Sure I am, that there is more in all this than you care to tell me, my -little pet. I am sorely afraid there is something beyond my power to -remedy, to change your light-hearted nature so mournfully. What it is, -I will not inquire, but remember, darling, whenever you want a friend, -you'll find a sure one in me." - -Thus having spoken, he turned from her, and strode rapidly down the -walk, until the thick, formal hedges concealed his retreating form -behind their impenetrable screens of darksome verdure. - -Odd as were the manner and style of the major's professions, there was -something tender, something of heartiness, in his speech, which assured -her that she had indeed found a friend in him--rash, volatile, and -violent it might be, but still one on whose truth and energy she might -calculate. That there was one being who felt with her and for her, was -a discovery which touched her heart and moved her generous spirit, and -she now regarded the old major, whose spoiled favourite in childhood -she had been, but whom, before, she had never known capable of a -serious feeling, with emotions of affection and gratitude, stronger and -more ardent than he had ever earned from any other being. Agitated, -grieved, and excited, she hurriedly left the scene of this interview, -and sought relief for her overcharged feelings in the quiet and -seclusion of her chamber. - - - - -CHAPTER XXII. - -THE SPINET. - - -In no very pleasant frame of mind did Lord Aspenly retrace his steps -toward the old house. His lordship had, all his life, been firmly -persuaded that the whole female creation had been sighing and pining -for the possession of his heart and equipage. He knew that among those -with whom his chief experience lay, his fortune and his coronet were -considerations not to be resisted; and he as firmly believed, that even -without such recommendations, few women, certainly none of any taste or -discrimination, could be found with hearts so steeled against the -archery of Cupid, as to resist the fascinations of his manner and -conversation, supported and directed, as both were, by the tact and -experience drawn from a practice of more years than his lordship cared -to count, even to himself. He had, however, smiled, danced, and -chatted, in impregnable celibacy, through more than half a century of -gaiety and frivolity--breaking, as he thought, hearts innumerable, and, -at all events, disappointing very many calculations--until, at length, -his lordship had arrived at that precise period of existence at which -old gentlemen, not unfrequently, become all at once romantic, -disinterested, and indiscreet--nobody exactly knows why--unless it be -for variety, or to spite an heir presumptive, or else that, as a -preliminary to second childhood, nature has ordained a second _boyhood_ -too. Certain, however, it is, that Lord Aspenly was seized, on a -sudden, with a matrimonial frenzy; and, tired of the hackneyed -schemers, in the centre of whose manoeuvres he had stood and smiled so -long in contemptuous security, he resolved that his choice should -honour some simple, unsophisticated beauty, who had never plotted his -matrimony. - -Fired with this benevolent resolution, he almost instantly selected -Mary Ashwoode as the happy companion of his second childhood, -acquainted Sir Richard with his purpose, of course received his consent -and blessing, and forthwith opened his entrenchments with the same -certainty of success with which the great Duke of Marlborough might -have invested a Flanders village. The inexperience of a girl who had -mixed, comparatively, so little in gay society, her consequent openness -to flattery, and susceptibility of being fascinated by the elegance of -his address, and the splendour of his fortune--all these -considerations, accompanied by a clear consciousness of his own -infinite condescension in thinking of her at all, had completely -excluded from all his calculations the very possibility of her doing -anything else than jump into his arms the moment he should open them to -receive her. The result of the interview which had just taken place, -had come upon him with the overwhelming suddenness of a thunderbolt. -Rejected!--Lord Aspenly rejected!--a coronet, and a fortune, and a man -whom all the male world might envy--each and all rejected!--and by -whom?--a chit of a girl, who had no right to look higher than a -half-pay captain with a wooden leg, or a fox-hunting boor, with a few -inaccessible acres of bog and mountain--the daughter of a spendthrift -baronet, who was, as everyone knew, on the high road to ruin. Death and -fury! was it to be endured? - -The little lover, absorbed in such tranquilizing reflections, arrived -at the house, and entered the drawing-room. It was not unoccupied; -seated by a spinet, and with a sheet of music-paper in her lap, and a -pencil in her hand, was the fair Emily Copland. As he entered, she -raised her eyes, started a little, became gracefully confused, and -then, with her archest smile, exclaimed,-- - -"What shall I say, my lord? You have detected me. I have neither -defence nor palliation to offer; you have fairly caught me. Here am I -engaged in perhaps the most presumptuous task that ever silly maiden -undertook--I am wedding your beautiful verses to most unworthy music of -my own. After all, there is nothing like a simple ballad. Such -exquisite lines as these inspire music of themselves. Would that Henry -Purcell had had but a peep at them! To what might they not have -prompted such a genius--to what, indeed?" - -So sublime was the flight of fancy suggested by this interrogatory, -that Miss Copland shook her head slowly in poetic rapture, and gazed -fondly for some seconds upon the carpet, apparently unconscious of Lord -Aspenly's presence. - -"_She_ is a fine creature," half murmured he, with an emphasis upon the -identity which implied a contrast not very favourable to -Mary--"and--and very pretty--nay, she looks almost beautiful, and -so--so lively--so much vivacity. Never was poor poet so much -flattered," continued his lordship, approaching, as he spoke, and -raising his voice, but not above its most mellifluous pitch; "to have -his verses read by _such_ eyes, to have them chanted by such a -minstrel, were honour too high for the noblest bards of the noblest -days of poetry: for me it is a happiness almost too great; yet, if the -request be not a presumptuous one, may I, in all humility, pray that -you will favour me with the music to which you have coupled my most -undeserving--my most favoured lines?" - -The young lady looked modest, glanced coyly at the paper which lay in -her lap, looked modest once more, and then arch again, and at length, -with rather a fluttered air, she threw her hands over the keys of the -instrument, and to a tune, of which we say enough when we state that it -was in no way unworthy of the words, she sang, rather better than young -ladies usually do, the following exquisite stanzas from his lordship's -pen:-- - - "Tho' Chloe slight me when I woo, - And scorn the love of poor Philander; - The shepherd's heart she scorns is true, - His heart is true, his passion tender. - - "But poor Philander sighs in vain, - In vain laments the poor Philander; - Fair Chloe scorns with high disdain, - His love so true and passion tender. - - "And here Philander lays him down, - Here will expire the poor Philander; - The victim of fair Chloe's frown, - Of love so true and passion tender. - - "Ah, well-a-day! the shepherd's dead; - Ay, dead and gone, the poor Philander; - And Dryads crown with flowers his head, - And Cupid mourns his love so tender." - -During this performance, Lord Aspenly, who had now perfectly recovered -his equanimity, marked the time with head and hand, standing the while -beside the fair performer, and every note she sang found its way -through the wide portals of his vanity, directly to his heart. - -"Brava! brava! bravissima!" murmured his lordship, from time to time. -"Beautiful, beautiful air--most appropriate--most simple; not a note -that accords not with the word it carries--beautiful, indeed! A -thousand thanks! I have become quite conceited of lines of which -heretofore I was half ashamed. I am quite elated--at once overpowered -by the characteristic vanity of the poet, and more than recompensed by -the reality of his proudest aspiration--that of seeing his verses -appreciated by a heart of sensibility, and of hearing them sung by the -lips of beauty." - -"I am but too happy if I am _forgiven_," replied Emily Copland, -slightly laughing, and with a heightened colour, while the momentary -overflow of merriment was followed by a sigh, and her eyes sank -pensively upon the ground. - -This little by-play was not lost upon Lord Aspenly. - -"Poor little thing," he inwardly remarked, "she is in a very bad -way--desperate--quite desperate. What a devil of a rascal I am to be -sure! Egad! it's almost a pity--she's a decidedly superior person; she -has an elegant turn of mind--refinement--taste--egad! she is a fine -creature--and so simple. She little knows I see it all; perhaps she -hardly knows herself what ails her--poor, poor little thing!" - -While these thoughts floated rapidly through his mind, he felt, along -with his spite and anger towards Mary Ashwoode, a feeling of contempt, -almost of disgust, engendered by her audacious non-appreciation of his -merits--an impertinence which appeared the more monstrous by the -contrast of Emily Copland's tenderness. _She_ had made it plain enough, -by all the artless signs which simple maidens know not how to hide, -that his fascinations had done their fatal work upon her heart. He had -seen, this for several days, but not with the overwhelming distinctness -with which he now beheld it. - -"Poor, poor little girl!" said his lordship to himself; "I am very, -very sorry, but it cannot be helped; it is no fault of mine. I am -really very, very, confoundedly sorry." - -In saying so to himself, however, he told himself a lie; for, instead -of being grieved, he was pleased beyond measure--a fact which he might -have ascertained by a single glance at the reflection of his wreathed -smiles in the ponderous mirror which hung forward from the pier between -the windows, as if staring down in wondering curiosity upon the -progress of the flirtation. Not caring to disturb a train of thought -which his vanity told him were but riveting the subtle chains which -bound another victim to his conquering chariot-wheels, the Earl of -Aspenly turned, with careless ease, to a table, on which lay some -specimens of that worsted tapestry-work, in which the fair maidens of a -century and a half ago were wont to exercise their taste and skill. - -"Your work is very, very beautiful," said he, after a considerable -pause, and laying down the canvas, upon whose unfinished worsted task -he had been for some time gazing. - -"That is my _cousin's_ work," said Emily, not sorry to turn the -conversation to a subject upon which, for many reasons, she wished to -dwell; "she used to work a great deal with me before she grew -romantic--before she fell in love." - -"In love!--with whom?" inquired Lord Aspenly, with remarkable -quickness. - -"Don't you know, my lord?" inquired Emily Copland, in simple wonder. -"May be I ought not to have told you--I am sure I ought not. Do not ask -me any more. I am the giddiest girl--the most thoughtless!" - -"Nay, nay," said Lord Aspenly, "you need not be afraid to trust _me_--I -never tell tales; and now that I know the fact that she is in love, -there can be no harm in telling me the less important particulars. On -my honour," continued his lordship, with real earnestness, and affected -playfulness--"upon my sacred honour! I shall not breathe one syllable -of it to mortal--I shall be as secret as the tomb. Who is the happy -person in question?" - -"Well, my lord, you'll _promise_ not to betray me," replied she. "I -know very well I ought not to have said a word about it; but as I -_have_ made the blunder, I see no harm in telling you all I know; but -you _will_ be secret?" - -"On my honour--on my life and soul, I swear!" exclaimed his lordship, -with unaffected eagerness. - -"Well, then, the happy man is a Mr. Edmond O'Connor," replied she. - -"O'Connor--O'Connor--I never saw nor heard of the man before," rejoined -the earl, reflectively. "Is he wealthy?" - -"Oh! no; a mere beggarman," replied Emily, "and a Papist to boot!" - -"Ha, ha, ha--he, he, he! a Papist beggar," exclaimed his lordship, with -an hysterical giggle, which was intended for a careless laugh. "Has he -any conversation--any manner--any attraction of _that_ kind?" - -"Oh! none in the world!--both ignorant, and I think, vulgar," replied -Emily. "In short, he is very nearly a stupid boor!" - -"Excellent! Ha, ha--he, he, he!--ugh! ugh!--very capital--excellent! -excellent!" exclaimed his lordship, although he might have found some -difficulty in explaining in what, precisely the peculiar excellence of -the announcement consisted. "Is he--is he--a--a--_handsome_?" - -"Decidedly _not_ what I consider handsome!" replied she; "he is a -large, coarse-looking fellow, with very broad shoulders--very -large--and as they say of oxen, in very great condition--a sort of a -prize man!" - -"Ha, ha!--ugh! ugh!--he, he, he, he, he!--ugh, ugh, -ugh!--de--lightful--quite delightful!" exclaimed the earl, in a tone of -intense chagrin, for he was conscious that his own figure was perhaps a -little too scraggy, and his legs a _leetle_ too nearly approaching the -genus spindle, and being so, there was no trait in the female character -which he so inveterately abhorred and despised as their tendency to -prefer those figures which exhibited a due proportion of thew and -muscle. Under a cloud of rappee, his lordship made a desperate attempt -to look perfectly delighted and amused, and effected a retreat to the -window, where he again indulged in a titter of unutterable spite and -vexation. - -"And what says Sir Richard to the advances of this very desirable -gentleman?" inquired he, after a little time. - -"Sir Richard is, of course, violently against it," replied Emily -Copland. - -"So I should have supposed," returned the little nobleman, briskly. And -turning again to the window, he relapsed into silence, looked out -intently for some minutes, took more snuff, and finally, consulting his -watch, with a few words of apology, and a gracious smile and a bow, -quitted the room. - - - - -CHAPTER XXIII. - -THE DARK ROOM--CONTAINING PLENTY OF SCARS AND BRUISES AND PLANS OF -VENGEANCE. - - -On the same day a very different scene was passing in another quarter, -whither for a few moments we must transport the reader. In a large and -aristocratic-looking brick house, situated near the then fashionable -suburb of Glasnevin, surrounded by stately trees, and within furnished -with the most prodigal splendour, combined with the strictest and most -minute attention to comfort and luxury, and in a large and lofty -chamber, carefully darkened, screened round by the rich and voluminous -folds of the silken curtains, with spider-tables laden with fruits and -wines and phials of medicine, crowded around him, and rather buried -than supported among a luxurious pile of pillows, lay, in sore bodily -torment, with fevered pulse, and heart and brain busy with a thousand -projects of revenge, the identical Nicholas Blarden, whose signal -misadventure in the theatre, upon the preceding evening, we have -already recorded. A decent-looking matron sate in a capacious chair, -near the bed, in the capacity of nurse-tender, while her constrained -and restless manner, as well as the frightened expression with which, -from time to time, she stole a glance at the bloated mass of scars and -bruises, of which she had the care, pretty plainly argued the sweet and -patient resignation with which her charge endured his sufferings. In -the recess of the curtained window sate a little black boy, arrayed -according to the prevailing fashion, in a fancy suit, and with a turban -on his head, and carrying in his awe-struck countenance, as well as in -the immobility of his attitude, a woeful contradiction to the gaiety of -his attire. - -"Drink--drink--where's that d----d hag?--give me drink, I say!" howled -the prostrate gambler. - -The woman started to her feet, and with a step which fell noiselessly -upon the deep-piled carpets which covered the floor, she hastened to -supply him. - -He had hardly swallowed the draught, when a low knock at the door -announced a visitor. - -"Come in, can't you?" shouted Blarden. - -"How do you feel now, Nicky dear?" inquired a female voice--and a -handsome face, with rather a bold expression, and crowned by a small -mob-cap, overlaid with a profusion of the richest lace, peeped into the -room through the half-open door--"how do you feel?" - -"In _hell_--that's all," shouted he. - -"Doctor Mallarde is below, love," added she, without evincing either -surprise or emotion of any kind at the concise announcement which the -patient had just delivered. - -"Let him come up then," was the reply. - -"And a Mr. M'Quirk--a messenger from Mr. Chancey." - -"Let _him_ come up too. But why the hell did not Chancey come -himself?--That will do--pack--be off." - -The lady tossed her head, like one having authority, looked half -inclined to say something sharp, but thought better of it, and -contented herself with shutting the door with more emphasis than Dr. -Mallarde would have recommended. - -The physician of those days was a solemn personage: he would as readily -have appeared without his head, as without his full-bottomed wig; and -his ponderous gold-headed cane was a sort of fifth limb, the -supposition of whose absence involved a contradiction to the laws of -anatomy; his dress was rich and funereal; his step was slow and -pompous; his words very long and very few; his look was mysterious; his -nod awful; and the shake of his head unfathomable: in short, he was in -no respect very much better than a modern charlatan. The science which -he professed was then overgrown with absurdities and mystification. The -temper of the times was superstitious and credulous, the physician, -being wise in his generation, framed his outward man (including his air -and language) accordingly, and the populace swallowed his long words -and his electuaries with equal faith. - -Doctor Mallarde was a doctor-like person, and, in theatrical -phraseology, looked the part well. He was tall and stately, saturnine -and sallow in aspect, had bushy, grizzled brows, and a severe and -prominent dark eye, a thin, hooked nose, and a pair of lips just as -thin as it. Along with these advantages he had a habit of pressing the -gold head of his professional cane against one corner of his mouth, in -a way which produced a sinister and mysterious distortion of that -organ; and by exhibiting the medical baton, the outward and visible -sign of doctorship, in immediate juxtaposition with the fountain of -language, added enormously to the gravity and authority of the words -which from time to time proceeded therefrom. - -In the presence of such a spectre as this--intimately associated with -all that was nauseous and deadly on earth--it is hardly to be wondered -at that even Nicholas Blarden felt himself somewhat uneasy and abashed. -The physician felt his pulse, gazing the while upon the ceiling, and -pressing the gold head of his cane, as usual, to the corner of his -mouth; made him put out his tongue, asked him innumerable questions, -which we forbear to publish, and ended by forbidding his patient the -use of every comfort in which he had hitherto found relief, and by -writing a prescription which might have furnished a country dispensary -with good things for a twelvemonth. He then took his leave and his fee, -with the grisly announcement, that unless the drugs were all swallowed, -and the other matters attended to in a spirit of absolute submission, -he would not answer for the life of the patient. - -"I am d----d glad he's gone at last," exclaimed Blarden, with a kind of -gasp, as if a weight had been removed from his breast. "Curse me, if I -did not feel all the time as if my coffin was in the room. Are you -there, M'Quirk?" - -"Here I am, Mr. Blarden," rejoined the person addressed, whom we may as -well describe, as we shall have more to say about him by-and-by. - -Mr. M'Quirk was a small, wiry man, of fifty years and upwards, arrayed -in that style which is usually described as "shabby genteel." He was -gifted with one of those mean and commonplace countenances which seem -expressly made for the effectual concealment of the thoughts and -feelings of the possessor--an advantage which he further secured by -habitually keeping his eyes as nearly closed as might be, so that, for -any indication afforded by them of the movements of the inward man, -they might as well have been shut up altogether. The peculiarity, if -not the grace, of his appearance, was heightened by a contraction of -the muscles at the nape of the neck, which drew his head backward, and -produced a corresponding elevation of the chin, which, along with a -certain habitual toss of the head, gave to his appearance a kind of -caricatured affectation of superciliousness and _hauteur_, very -impressive to behold. Along with the swing of the head, which we have -before noticed, there was, whenever he spoke, a sort of careless -libration of the whole body, which, together with a certain way of -jerking or twitching the right shoulder from time to time, were the -only approaches to gesticulation in which he indulged. - -"Well, what does your master say?" inquired Blarden--"out with it, -can't you." - -"Master--master--indeed! Cock _him_ up with _master_," echoed the man, -with lofty disdain. - -"Ay! what does he say?" reiterated Blarden, in no very musical tones. -"D---- you, are you choking, or moonstruck? Out with it, can't you?" - -"_Chancey_ says that you had better think the matter over--and that's -his opinion," replied M'Quirk. - -"And a fine opinion it is," rejoined Blarden, furiously. "Why, in -hell's name, what's the matter with him--the--drivelling idiot? What's -law for--what's the courts for? Am I to be trounced and cudgelled in -the face of hundreds, and--and half _murdered_, and nothing for it? I -tell you, I'll be beggared before the scoundrel shall escape. If every -penny I'm worth in the world can buy it, I'll have justice. Tell that -sleepy sot Chancey that I'll _make_ him work. Ho--o--o--oh!" bawled the -wretch, as his anguish all returned a hundredfold in the fruitless -attempt to raise himself in bed. - -"Drink, here--_drink_--I'm choking! Hock and water. D---- you, don't -look so stupid and frightened. I'll not be bamboozled by an old -'pothecary. Quick with it, you fumbling witch." - -He finished the draught, and lay silently for a time. - -"See--mind me, M'Quirk," he said, after a pause, "tell Chancey to come -out himself--tell him to be here before evening, or I'll make him sorry -for it, do you mind; I want to give him directions. Tell him to come at -once, or I'll make him _smoke_ for it, that's all." - -"I understand--all right--very well; and so, as you seem settling for a -snooze, I wish you good-evening, Mr. Blarden, and all sorts of pleasure -and happiness," rejoined the messenger. - -The patient answered by a grin and a stifled howl, and Mr. M'Quirk, -having his head within the curtains, which screened him effectually -from the observation of the two attendants, and observing that Mr. -Blarden's eyes were closely shut in the rigid compression of pain, put -out his tongue, and indulged for a few seconds in an exceedingly ugly -grimace, after which, repeating his farewell in a tone of respectful -sympathy, he took his departure, chuckling inwardly all the way -downstairs, for the little gentleman had a playful turn for mischief. - -When Gordon Chancey, Esquire, barrister-at-law, in obedience to this -summons, arrived at Cherry Hill, for so the residence of the sick -voluptuary was called, he found his loving friend and patron, Nicholas -Blarden, babbling not of green fields, but of green curtains, theatres, -dice-boxes, bright eyes, small-swords, and the shades infernal--in a -word, in a high state of delirium. On calling next day, however, he -beheld him much recovered; and after an extremely animated discussion, -these two well-assorted confederates at length, by their united -ingenuity, succeeded in roughly sketching the outlines of a plan of -terrific vengeance, in all respects worthy of the diabolical council in -which it originated, and of whose progress and development this history -very fully treats. - - - - -CHAPTER XXIV. - -A CRITIC--A CONDITION--AND THE SMALL-SWORDS. - - -Lord Aspenly walked forth among the trim hedges and secluded walks -which surrounded the house, and by alternately taking enormous pinches -of rappee, and humming a favourite air or two, he wonderfully assisted -his philosophy in recovering his equanimity. - -"It matters but little how the affair ends," thought his lordship, "if -in matrimony--the girl is, after all, a very fine girl: but if the -matter is fairly off, in that case I shall--look very foolish," -suggested his conscience faintly, but his lordship dismissed the -thought precipitately--"in that case I shall make it a point to marry -within a fortnight. I should like to know the girl who would refuse -_me_"--"_the only one you ever asked_," suggested his conscience again, -but with no better result--"I should like to see the girl of sense or -discrimination who _could_ refuse me. I shall marry the finest girl in -the country, and _then_ I presume very few will be inclined to call me -fool." - -"Not _I_ for one, my lord," exclaimed a voice close by. Lord Aspenly -started, for he was conscious that in his energy he had uttered the -concluding words of his proud peroration with audible emphasis, and -became instantly aware that the speaker was no other than Major -O'Leary. - -"Not _I_ for one, my lord," repeated the major, with extreme gravity, -"I take it for granted, my lord, that you are no fool." - -"I am obliged to you, Major O'Leary, for your good opinion," replied -his lordship, drily, with a surprised look and a stiff inclination of -his person. - -"Nothing to be grateful for in it," replied the major, returning the -bow with grave politeness: "if years and discretion increase together, -you and I ought to be models of wisdom by this time of day. I'm proud -of my years, my lord, and I would be half as proud again if I could -count as many as your lordship." - -There was something singularly abrupt and uncalled for in all this, -which Lord Aspenly did not very well understand; he therefore stopped -short, and looked in the major's face; but reading in its staid and -formal gravity nothing whatever to furnish a clue to his exact purpose, -he made a kind of short bow, and continued his walk in dignified -silence. There was something exceedingly disagreeable, he thought, in -the manner of his companion--something very near approaching to cool -impertinence--which he could not account for upon any other supposition -than that the major had been prematurely indulging in the joys of -Bacchus. If, however, he thought that by the assumption of the frigid -and lofty dignity with which he met the advances of the major, he was -likely to relieve himself of his company, he was never more lamentably -mistaken. His military companion walked with a careless swagger by his -side, exactly regulating his pace by that of the little nobleman, whose -meditations he had so cruelly interrupted. - -"What on earth is to be done with this brute beast?" muttered his -lordship, taking care, however, that the query should not reach the -subject of it. "I must get rid of him--I must speak with the girl -privately--what the deuce is to be done?" - -They walked on a little further in perfect silence. At length his -lordship stopped short and exclaimed,-- - -"My dear major, I am a very dull companion--quite a bore; there are -times when the mind--the--the--spirits require _solitude_--and these -walks are the very scene for a lonely ramble. I dare venture to aver -that you are courting solitude like myself--your silence betrays -you--then pray do not stand on ceremony--_that_ walk leads down toward -the river--pray no ceremony." - -"Upon my conscience, my lord, I never was less inclined to stand on -ceremony than I am at this moment," replied the major; "so give -yourself no trouble in the world about me. Nothing would annoy me so -much as to have you think I was doing anything but precisely what I -liked best myself." - -Lord Aspenly bowed, took a violent pinch of snuff, and walked on, the -major still keeping by his side. After a long silence his lordship -began to lilt his own sweet verses in a careless sort of a way, which -was intended to convey to his tormentor that he had totally forgotten -his presence:-- - - "Tho' Chloe slight me when I woo, - And scorn the love of poor Philander; - The shepherd's heart she scorns is true, - His heart is true, his passion tender." - -"Passion tender," observed the major--"_passion_ tender--it's a -_nurse_-tender the like of you and me ought to be looking -for--_passion_ tender--upon my conscience, a good joke." - -Lord Aspenly was strongly tempted to give vent to his feelings; but -even at the imminent risk of bursting, he managed to suppress his fury. -The major was certainly (however unaccountable and mysterious the fact -might be) in a perfectly cut-throat frame of mind, and Lord Aspenly had -no desire to present _his_ weasand for the entertainment of his -military friend. - -"Tender--_tender_," continued the inexorable major, "allow me, my lord, -to suggest the word _tough_ as an improvement--_tender_, my lord, is a -term which does not apply to chickens beyond a certain time of life, -and it strikes me as too bold a license of poetry to apply it to a -gentleman of such extreme and venerable old age as your lordship; for I -take it for granted that Philander is another name for yourself." - -As the major uttered this critical remark, Lord Aspenly felt his brain, -as it were, fizz with downright fury; the instinct of self-preservation, -however, triumphed; he mastered his generous indignation, and resumed -his walk in a state of mind nothing short of awful. - -"My lord," inquired the major, with tragic abruptness, and with very -stern emphasis--"I take the liberty of asking, _have you made your -soul_?" - -The precise nature of the major's next proceeding, Lord Aspenly could -not exactly predict; of one thing, however, he felt assured, and that -was, that the designs of his companion were decidedly of a dangerous -character, and as he gazed in mute horror upon the major, confused but -terrific ideas of "homicidal monomania," and coroner's inquests floated -dimly through his distracted brain. - -"My soul?" faltered he, in undisguised trepidation. - -"Yes, my lord," repeated the major, with remarkable coolness, "have you -made your soul?" - -During this conference his lordship's complexion had shifted from its -original lemon-colour to a lively orange, and thence faded gradually -off into a pea-green; at which hue it remained fixed during the -remainder of the interview. - -"I protest--you cannot be serious--I am wholly in the dark. Positively, -Major O'Leary, this is very unaccountable conduct--you really -ought--pray explain." - -"Upon my conscience, I _will_ explain," rejoined the major, "although -the explanation won't make you much more in love with your present -predicament, unless I am very much out. You made my niece, Mary -Ashwoode, an offer of marriage to-day; well, she was much obliged to -you, but she did not _want_ to marry you, and she told you so civilly. -Did you then, like a man and a gentleman, take your answer from her as -you ought to have done, quietly and courteously? No, you did not; you -went to bully the poor girl, and to insult her; because she politely -declined to marry a--a--an ugly bunch of wrinkles, like you; and you -threatened to tell Sir Richard--ay, you _did_--to tell him your pitiful -story, you--you--you--but wait awhile. You want to have the poor girl -frightened and bullied into marrying you. Where's your spirit or your -feeling, my lord? But you don't know what the words mean. If ever you -did, you'd sooner have been racked to death, than have terrified and -insulted a poor friendless girl, as you thought her. But she's _not_ -friendless. I'll teach you she's not. As long as this arm can lift a -small-sword, and while the life is in my body, I'll never see any woman -maltreated by a scoundrel--a _scoundrel_, my lord; but I'll bring him -to his knees for it, or die in the attempt. And holding these opinions, -did you think I'd let you offend my niece? _No_, sir, I'd be blown to -atoms first." - -"Major O'Leary," replied his lordship, as soon as he had collected his -thoughts and recovered breath to speak, "your conduct is exceedingly -violent--very, and, I will add, most hasty and indiscreet. You have -entirely misconceived me, you have mistaken the whole affair. You will -regret this violence--I protest--I know you will, when you understand -the whole matter. At present, knowing the nature of your feelings, I -protest, though I might naturally resent your observations, it is not -in my nature, in my _heart_ to be angry." This was spoken with a very -audible quaver. - -"You _would_, my lord, you _would_ be angry," rejoined the major, -"you'd _dance_ with fury this moment, if you _dared_. You could find it -in your heart to go into a passion with a _girl_; but talking with men -is a different sort of thing. Now, my lord, we are both here, with our -swords; no place can be more secluded, and, I presume, no two men more -willing. Pray draw, my lord, or I'll be apt to spoil your velvet and -gold lace." - -"Major O'Leary, I _will_ be heard!" exclaimed Lord Aspenly, with an -earnestness which the imminent peril of his person inspired--"I _must_ -have a word or two with you, before we put this dispute to so deadly an -arbitrament." - -The major had foreseen and keenly enjoyed the reluctance and the -evident tremors of his antagonist. He returned his half-drawn sword to -its scabbard with an impatient thrust, and, folding his arms, looked -down with supreme contempt upon the little peer. - -"Major O'Leary, you have been misinformed--Miss Ashwoode has mistaken -me. I assure you, I meant no disrespect--none in the world, I protest. -I may have spoken hastily--perhaps I did--but I never intended -disrespect--never for a moment." - -"Well, my lord, suppose that I admit that you did _not_ mean any -disrespect; and suppose that I distinctly assert that I have neither -right nor inclination just now to call you to an account for anything -you may have said, in your interview this morning, offensive to my -niece; I give you leave to suppose it, and, what's more, in supposing -it, I solemnly aver, you suppose neither more nor less than the exact -truth," said the major. - -"Well, then, Major O'Leary," replied Lord Aspenly, "I profess myself -wholly at a loss to understand your conduct. I presume, at all events, -that nothing further need pass between us about the matter." - -"Not so fast, my lord, if you please," rejoined the major; "a great -deal more must pass between us before I have done with your lordship; -although I cannot punish you for the past, I have a perfect right to -restrain you for the future. I have a proposal to make, to which I -expect your lordship's assent--a proposal which, under the -circumstances, I dare say, you will think, however unpleasant, by no -means unreasonable." - -"Pray state it," said Lord Aspenly, considerably reassured on finding -that the debate was beginning to take a diplomatic turn. - -"This is my proposal, then," replied the major: "you shall write a -letter to Sir Richard, renouncing all pretensions to his daughter's -hand, and taking upon yourself the whole responsibility of the measure, -without implicating _her_ directly or indirectly; do you mind: and you -shall leave this place, and go wherever you please, before supper-time -to-night. These are the conditions on which I will consent to spare -you, my lord, and upon no other shall you escape." - -"Why, what can you mean, Major O'Leary?" exclaimed the little coxcomb, -distractedly. "If I did any such thing, I should be run through by Sir -Richard or his rakehelly son; besides, I came here for a wife--my -friends know it; I _cannot_ consent to make a fool of myself. How -_dare_ you presume to propose such conditions to me?" - -The little gentleman as he wound up, had warmed so much, that he placed -his hand on the hilt of his sword. Without one word of commentary, the -major drew his, and with a nod of invitation, threw himself into an -attitude of defence, and resting the point of his weapon upon the -ground, awaited the attack of his adversary. Perhaps Lord Aspenly -regretted the precipitate valour which had prompted him to place his -hand on his sword-hilt, as much as he had ever regretted any act of his -whole life; it was, however, too late to recede, and with the hurried -manner of one who has made up his mind to a disagreeable thing, and -wishes it soon over, he drew his also, and their blades were instantly -crossed in mortal opposition. - - - - -CHAPTER XXV. - -THE COMBAT AND ITS ISSUE. - - -Lord Aspenly made one or two eager passes at his opponent, which were -parried with perfect ease and coolness; and before he had well -recovered his position from the last of those lunges, a single clanging -sweep of the major's sword, taking his adversary's blade from the point -to the hilt with irresistible force, sent his lordship's weapon -whirring through the air some eight or ten yards away. - -"Take your life, my lord," said the major, contemptuously; "I give it -to you freely, only wishing the present were more valuable. What do you -say _now_, my lord, to the terms?" - -"I say, sir--what do _I_ say?" echoed his lordship, not very -coherently. "Major O'Leary, you have disarmed me, sir, and you ask me -what I say to your terms. What do I say? Why, sir, I say again what I -said before, that I cannot and will not subscribe to them." - -Lord Aspenly, having thus delivered himself, looked half astonished and -half frightened at his own valour. - -"Everyone to his taste--your lordship has an uncommon inclination for -slaughter," observed the major coolly, walking to the spot where lay -the little gentleman's sword, raising it, and carelessly presenting it -to him: "take it, my lord, and use it more cautiously than you _have_ -done--defend yourself!" - -Little expecting another encounter, yet ashamed to decline it, his -lordship, with a trembling hand, grasped the weapon once more, and -again their blades were crossed in deadly combat. This time his -lordship prudently forbore to risk his safety by an impetuous attack -upon an adversary so cool and practised as the major, and of whose -skill he had just had so convincing a proof. Major O'Leary, therefore, -began the attack; and pressing his opponent with some slight feints and -passes, followed him closely as he retreated for some twenty yards, and -then, suddenly striking up to the point of his lordship's sword with -his own, he seized the little nobleman's right arm at the wrist with a -grasp like a vice, and once more held his life at his disposal. - -"Take your life for the second and the _last_ time," said the major, -having suffered the wretched little gentleman for a brief pause to -fully taste the bitterness of death; "mind, my lord, for the _last_ -time;" and so saying, he contemptuously flung his lordship from him by -the arm which he grasped. - -"Now, my lord, before we begin for the _last_ time, listen to me," said -the major, with a sternness, which commanded all the attention of the -affrighted peer; "I desire that you should _fully_ understand what I -propose. I would not like to kill you under a mistake--there is nothing -like a clear, mutual understanding during a quarrel. Such an -understanding being once established, bloodshed, if it unfortunately -occurs, can scarcely, even in the most scrupulous bosom, excite the -mildest regret. I wish, my lord, to have nothing whatever to reproach -myself with in the catastrophe which you appear to have resolved shall -overtake you; and, therefore, I'll state the whole case for your dying -consolation in as few words as possible. Don't be in a hurry, my lord, -I'll not detain you more than five minutes in this miserable world. -Now, my lord, you have two strong, indeed I may call them in every -sense _fatal_, objections to my proposal. The first is, that if you -write the letter I propose, you must fight Sir Richard and young Henry -Ashwoode. Now, I pledge myself, my soul, and honour, as a Christian, a -soldier, and a gentleman, that I will stand between you and them--that -_I_ will protect you completely from all responsibility upon that -score--and that if anyone is to fight with either of them, it shall not -be you. Your second objection is, that having been fool enough to tell -the world that you were coming here for a wife, you are ashamed to go -away without one. Now, without meaning to be offensive, I never heard -anything more idiotic in the whole course of my life. But if it _must_ -be so, and that you cannot go away without a wife, why the d----l don't -you ask Emily Copland--a fine girl with some thousands of pounds, I -believe, and at all events dying for love of you, as I am sure you see -yourself? You can't care for one more than the other, and why the deuce -need you trouble your head about their gossip, if anyone wonders at the -change? And now, my lord, mark me, I have said all that is to be said -in the way of commentary or observation upon my proposal, and I must -add a word or two about the consequences of finally rejecting it. I -have spared your life twice, my lord, within these five minutes. If you -refuse the accommodation I have proposed, I will a third time give you -an opportunity of disembarrassing yourself of the whole affair by -running me through the body--in which, if you fail, so sure as you are -this moment alive and breathing before me, you shall, at the end of the -next five, be a corpse. So help me God!" - -Major O'Leary paused, leaving Lord Aspenly in a state of confusion and -horror, scarcely short of distraction. - -There was no mistaking the major's manner, and the old _beau garçon_ -already felt in imagination the cold steel busy with his intestines. - -"But, Major O'Leary," said he, despairingly, "will you engage--can you -pledge yourself that no mischief shall follow from my withdrawing as -you say? not that I would care to avoid a duel when occasion required; -but no one likes to unnecessarily risk himself. Will you indeed prevent -all unpleasantness?" - -"Did I pledge my soul and honour that I would?" inquired the major -sternly. - -"Well, I am satisfied. I do agree," replied his lordship. "But is there -any occasion for me to remove _to-night_?" - -"Every occasion," replied the major, coolly. "You must come directly -with me, and write the letter--and this evening, before supper, you -must leave Morley Court. And, above all things, just remember this, let -there be no trickery or treachery in this matter. So sure as I see the -smallest symptom of anything of the kind, I will bring about such -another piece of work as has not been for many a long day. Am I fully -understood?" - -"Perfectly--perfectly, my dear sir," replied the nobleman. "Clearly -understood. And believe me, Major, when I say that nothing but the fact -that I myself, for private reasons, am not unwilling to break the -matter off, could have induced me to co-operate with you in this -business. Believe me, sir, otherwise I should have fought until one or -other of us had fallen to rise no more." - -"To be sure you would, my lord," rejoined the major, with edifying -gravity. "And in the meantime your lordship will much oblige me by -walking up to the house. There's pen and paper in Sir Richard's study; -and between us we can compose something worthy of the occasion. Now, my -lord, if you please." - -Thus, side by side, walked the two elderly gentlemen, like the very -best friends, towards the old house. And shrewd indeed would have been -that observer who could have gathered from the manner of either -(whatever their flushed faces and somewhat ruffled exterior might have -told), as with formal courtesy they threaded the trim arbours together, -that but a few minutes before each had sought the other's life. - - - - -CHAPTER XXVI. - -THE HELL--GORDON CHANCEY--LUCK--FRENZY AND A RESOLUTION. - - -The night which followed this day found young Henry Ashwoode, his purse -replenished with bank-notes, that day advanced by Craven, to the amount -of one thousand pounds, once more engaged in the delirious prosecution -of his favourite pursuit--gaming. In the neighbourhood of the theatre, -in that narrow street now known as Smock Alley, there stood in those -days a kind of coffee-house, rather of the better sort. From the -public-room, in which actors, politicians, officers, and occasionally a -member of parliament, or madcap Irish peer, chatted, lounged, and -sipped their sack or coffee--the initiated, or, in short, any man with -a good coat on his back and a few pounds in his pocket, on exchanging a -brief whisper with a singularly sleek-looking gentleman, who sate in -the prospective of the background, might find his way through a small, -baize-covered door in the back of the chamber, and through a lobby or -two, and thence upstairs into a suite of rooms, decently hung with -gilded leather, and well lighted with a profusion of wax candles, where -hazard and cards were played for stakes unlimited, except by the -fortunes and the credit of those who gamed. The ceaseless clang of the -dice-box and rattle of the dice upon the table, and the clamorous -challenging and taking of the odds upon the throwing, accompanied by -the ferocious blasphemies of desperate losers, who, with clenched hands -and distracted gestures, poured, unheeded, their frantic railings and -imprecations, as they, in unpitied agony, withdrew from the fatal -table; and now and then the scarcely less hideous interruptions of -brutal quarrels, accusations, and recriminations among the excited and -half-drunken gamblers, were the sounds which greeted the ear of him who -ascended toward this unhallowed scene. The rooms were crowded--the -atmosphere hot and stifling, and the company in birth and pretensions, -if not in outward attire, to the full as mixed and various as the -degrees of fortune, which scattered riches and ruin promiscuously among -them. In the midst of all this riotous uproar, several persons sate and -played at cards as if (as, perhaps, was really the case), perfectly -unconscious of the ceaseless hubbub going on around them. Here you -might see in one place the hare-brained young squire, scarcely three -months launched upon the road to ruin, snoring in drunken slumber, in -his deep-cushioned chair, with his cravat untied, and waistcoat -loosened, and his last cup of mulled sack upset upon the table beside -him, and streaming upon his velvet breeches and silken hose--while his -lightly-won bank notes, stuffed into the loose coat pocket, and peeping -temptingly from the aperture, invited the fingers of the first -_chevalier d'industrie_ who wished to help himself. In another place -you might behold two sharpers fulfilling the conditions of their -partnership, by wheedling a half-tipsy simpleton into a quiet game of -ombre. And again, elsewhere you might descry some bully captain, whose -occupation having ended with the Irish wars, indemnified himself as -best he might by such contributions as he could manage to levy from the -young and reckless in such haunts as this, busily and energetically -engaged in brow-beating a timid greenhorn, who has the presumption to -fancy that he has won something from the captain, which the captain has -forgotten to pay. In another place you may see, unheeded and unheeding, -the wretch who has played and lost his last stake; with white, -unmeaning face and idiotic grin, glaring upon the floor, thought and -feeling palsied, something worse, and more appalling than a maniac. - -The whole character of the assembly bespoke the recklessness and the -selfishness of its ingredients. There was, too, among them a certain -coarse and revolting disregard and defiance of the etiquettes and -conventional decencies of social life. More than half the men were -either drunk or tipsy; some had thrown off their coats and others wore -their hats; altogether the company had more the appearance of a band of -reckless rioters in a public street, than of an assembly of persons -professing to be gentlemen, and congregated in a drawing-room. - -By the fireplace in the first and by far the largest and most crowded -of the three drawing-rooms, there sate a person whose appearance was -somewhat remarkable. He was an ill-made fellow, with long, lank, limber -legs and arms, and an habitual lazy stoop. His face was sallow; his -mouth, heavy and sensual, was continually moistened with the brandy and -water which stood beside him upon a small spider-table, placed there -for his especial use. His eyes were long-cut, and seldom more than half -open, and carrying in their sleepy glitter a singular expression of -treachery and brute cunning. He wore his own lank and grizzled hair, -instead of a peruke, and sate before the fire with a drowsy inattention -to all that was passing in the room; and, except for the occasional -twinkle of his eye as it glanced from the corner of his half-closed -lids, he might have been believed to have been actually asleep. His -attitude was lounging and listless, and all his movements so languid -and heavy, that they seemed to be rather those of a somnambulist than -of a waking man. His dress had little pretension, and less neatness; it -was a suit of threadbare, mulberry-coloured cloth, with steel buttons, -and evidently but little acquainted with the clothes-brush. His linen -was soiled and crumpled, his shoes ill-cleaned, his beard had enjoyed -at least two days' undisturbed growth; and the dingy hue of his face -and hands bespoke altogether the extremest negligence and slovenliness -of person. - -This slovenly and ungainly being, who sate apparently unconscious of -the existence of any other earthly thing than the fire on which he -gazed, and the grog which from time to time he lazily sipped, was -Gordon Chancey, Esquire, of Skycopper Court, Whitefriar Street, in the -city of Dublin, barrister-at-law--a gentleman who had never been known -to do any professional business, but who managed, nevertheless, to -live, and to possess, somehow or other, the command of very -considerable sums of money, which he most advantageously invested by -discounting, at exorbitant interest, short bills and promissory notes -in such places as that in which he now sate--one of his favourite -resorts, by the way. At intervals of from five to ten minutes he slowly -drew from the vast pocket of his clumsy coat a bulky pocket-book, and -sleepily conned over certain memoranda with which its leaves were -charged--then having looked into its well-lined receptacles, to satisfy -himself that no miracle of legerdemain had abstracted the treasure on -which his heart was set, he once more fastened the buckle of the -leathern budget, and deposited it again in his pocket. This procedure, -and his attentions to the spirits and water, which from time to time he -swallowed, succeeded one another with a monotonous regularity -altogether undisturbed by the uproarious scene which surrounded him. - -As the night wore apace, and fortune played her wildest pranks, many an -applicant--some successfully, and some in vain--sought Chancey's -succour. - -"Come, my fine fellow, tip me a cool hundred," exclaimed a -fashionably-dressed young man, flushed with the combined excitement of -wine and the dice, and tapping Chancey on the back impatiently with his -knuckles--"this moment--will you, and be d----" - -"Oh, dear me, dear me, Captain Markham," drawled the barrister in a -low, drowsy tone, as he turned sleepily toward the speaker, "have you -lost the other hundred so soon? Oh, dear!--oh, dear!" - -"Never you mind, old fox. Shell out, if you're going to do it," -rejoined the applicant. "What is it to you?" - -"Oh, dear me, dear me!" murmured Chancey, as he languidly drew the -pocket-book from his pocket. "When shall I make it payable? To-morrow?" - -"D----n to-morrow," replied the captain. "I'll sleep all to-morrow. -Won't a fortnight do, you harpy?" - -"Well, well--sign--sign it here," said the usurer, handing the paper, -with a pen, to the young gentleman, and indicating with his finger the -spot where the name was to be written. - -The _roué_ wrote his name without ever reading the paper; and Chancey -carefully deposited it in his book. - -"The money--the money--d----n you, will you never give it!" exclaimed -the young man, actually stamping with impatience, as if every moment's -absence from the hazard-table cost him a fortune. "Give--give--_give_ -them." - -He seized the notes, and without counting, stuffed them into his -coat-pocket, and plunged in an instant again among the gamblers who -crowded the table. - -"Mr. Chancey--Mr. Chancey," said a slight young man, whose whole -appearance betokened a far progress in the wasting of a mortal decline. -His face was pale as death itself, and glittering with the cold, clammy -dew of weakness and excitement. The eye was bright, wild, and glassy; -and the features of this attenuated face trembled and worked in the -spasms of agonized anxiety and despair--with timid voice, and with the -fearful earnestness of one pleading for his life--with knees half bent, -and head stretched forward, while his thin fingers were clutched and -knotted together in restless feverishness. He still repeated at -intervals in low, supplicating accents--"Mr. Chancey--Mr. Chancey--can -you spare a moment, sir--Mr. Chancey, good sir--Mr. Chancey." - -For many minutes the worthy barrister gazed on apathetically into the -fire, as if wholly unconscious that this piteous spectacle was by his -side, and all but begging his attention. - -"Mr. Chancey, good sir--Mr. Chancey, kind sir--only one moment--one -word--Mr. Chancey." - -This time the wretched young man advanced one of his trembling hands, -and laid it hesitatingly upon Chancey's knee--the seat of mercy, as the -ancients thought; but truly here it was otherwise. The hand was -repulsed with insolent rudeness; and the wretched suppliant stood -trembling in silence before the bill-discounter, who looked upon him -with a scowl of brute ferocity, which the timid advances he had made -could hardly have warranted. - -"Well," growled Chancey, keeping his baleful eyes fixed not very -encouragingly upon the poor young man. - -"I have been unfortunate, sir--I have lost my last shilling--that is, -the last I have about me at present." - -"Well," repeated he. - -"I might win it all back," continued the suppliant, becoming more -voluble as he proceeded. "I might recover it _all_--it has often -happened to me before. Oh, sir, it is possible--_certain_, if I had but -a few pounds to play on." - -"Ay, the old story," rejoined Chancey. - -"Yes, sir, it is indeed--indeed it is, Mr. Chancey," said the young -man, eagerly, catching at this improvement upon his first laconic -address as an indication of some tendency to relent, and making, at the -same time, a most woeful attempt to look pleasant--"it is, sir--the old -story, indeed; but this time it will come out true--indeed it will. -Will you do one little note for me--a _little_ one--twenty pounds?" - -"No, I won't," drawled Chancey, imitating with coarse buffoonery the -intonation of the request--"I won't do a _little_ one for you." - -"Well, for ten pounds--for _ten_ only." - -"No, nor for ten pence," rejoined Chancey, tranquilly. - -"You may keep five out of it for the discount--for friendship--only let -me have five--just _five_," urged the wasted gambler, with an agony of -supplication. - -"No, I won't; _just five_," replied the lawyer. - -"I'll make it payable to-morrow," urged the suppliant. - -"Maybe you'll be dead before that," drawled Chancey, with a sneer; "the -life don't look very tough in you." - -"Ah! Mr. Chancey, dear sir--good Mr. Chancey," said the young man, "you -often told me you'd do me a friendly turn yet. Do not you remember -it?--when I was able to lend you money. For God's sake, lend me five -pounds now, or anything; I'll give you half my winnings. You'll save me -from beggary--ah, sir, for old friendship." - -Mr. Gordon Chancey seemed wondrously tickled by this appeal; he gazed -sleepily at the fire while he raked the embers with the toe of his -shoe, stuffed his hands deep into his breeches pockets, and indulged in -a sort of lazy, comfortable laughter, which lasted for several minutes, -until at length it subsided, leaving him again apparently unconscious -of the presence of his petitioner. Emboldened by the condescension of -his quondam friend, the young man made a piteous effort to join in the -laughter--an attempt, however, which was speedily interrupted by the -hollow cough of consumption. After a pause of a minute or two, during -which Chancey seemed to have forgotten his existence, he once more -addressed that gentleman,-- - -"Well, sir--well, Mr. Chancey?" - -The barrister turned full upon him with an expression of face not to be -mistaken, and in a tone just as unequivocal, he growled,-- - -"I'm d----d if I give you as much as a leaden penny. Be off; there's no -_begging_ allowed here--away with you, you blackguard." - -Having thus delivered himself, Chancey relapsed into his ordinary -dreamy quiet. - -Every muscle in the pale, wasted face of the ruined, dying gamester -quivered with fruitless agony; he opened his mouth to speak, but could -not; he gasped and sobbed, and then, clutching his lank hands over his -eyes and forehead as though he would fain have crushed his head to -pieces, he uttered one low cry of anguish, more despairing and -appalling than the loudest shriek of horror, and passed from the room -unnoticed. - -"Jeffries, can you lend me fifty or a hundred pounds till to-morrow?" -said young Ashwoode, addressing a middle-aged fop who had just reeled -in from an adjoining room. - -"_Cuss_ me, Ashwoode, if the thing is a possibility," replied he, with -a hiccough; "I have just been fairly cleaned out by Snarley and two or -three others--not one guinea left--confound them all. I've this moment -had to beg a crown to pay my chair and link-boy home; but Chancey is -here; I saw him not an hour ago in his old corner." - -"So he is, egad--thank you," and Ashwoode was instantly by the monied -man's side. "Chancey, I want a hundred and fifty--quickly, man, are you -awake?" and so saying, he shook the lawyer roughly by the shoulder. - -"Oh, dear! oh, dear!" exclaimed he, in his usual low, sleepy voice, -"it's Mr. Ashwoode, it is indeed--dear me, dear me; and can I oblige -you, Mr. Ashwoode?" - -"Yes; don't I tell you I want a hundred and fifty--or stay, two -hundred," said Ashwoode, impatiently. "I'll pay you in a week or -less--say to-morrow if you please it." - -"Whatever sum you like, Mr. Ashwoode," rejoined he--"whatever sum or -whatever date you please; I declare to God I'm uncommonly glad to do -it. Oh, dear, but them dice _is_ unruly. Two hundred, you say, and a--a -_week_ we'll say, not to be pressing. Well, well, this money has luck -in it, maybe. That's a long lane that has no turn--fortune changes -sides when it's least expected. Your name here, Mr. Ashwoode." - -The name was signed, the notes taken, and Ashwoode once more at the -table; but alack-a-day! fortune was for once steady, and frowned with -consistent obdurateness upon Henry Ashwoode. Five minutes had hardly -passed, when the two hundred pounds had made themselves wings and -followed the larger sums which he had already lost. Again he had -recourse to Chancey: again he found that gentleman smooth, gracious, -and obliging as he could have wished. Still his luck was adverse: as -fast as he drew the notes from his pocket, they were caught and whirled -away in the eddy of ruin. Once more from the accommodating barrister he -drew a larger sum,--still with a like result. So large and frequent -were his drafts, that Chancey was obliged to go away and replenish his -exhausted treasury; and still again and again, with a terrible monotony -of disaster, young Ashwoode continued to lose. - -At length the grey, cold light of morning streamed drearily through the -chinks of the window-shutters into the hot chamber of destruction and -debauchery. The sounds of daily business began to make themselves heard -from the streets. The wax lights were flaring in the sockets. The floor -strewn with packs of cards, broken glasses, and plates, and fragments -of fowls and bread, and a thousand other disgusting indications of -recent riot and debauchery which need not to be mentioned. Soiled and -jaded, with bloodshot eyes and haggard faces, the gamblers slunk, one -by one, in spiritless exhaustion, from the scene of their distracting -orgies, to rest the brain and refresh the body as best they might. - -With a stunning and indistinct sense of disaster and ruin; a vague, -fevered, dreamy remembrance of overwhelming calamity: a stupefying, -haunting consciousness that all the clatter, and roaring, and stifling -heat, and jostling, and angry words, and smooth, civil speeches of the -night past, had been, somehow or other, to him fraught with fearful and -tremendous agony, and delirium, and ruin--Ashwoode stalked into the -street, and mechanically proceeded to the inn where his horse was -stabled. - -The ostler saw, by the haggard, vacant stare with which Ashwoode -returned his salutation, that something had gone wrong, and, as he held -the stirrup for him, he arrived at the conclusion that the young -gentleman must have gotten at least a dozen duels upon his hands, to be -settled, one and all, before breakfast. - -The young man dashed the spurs into the high-mettled horse, and -traversing the streets at a perilous speed, without well thinking or -knowing whitherward he was proceeding, he found himself at length among -the wild lanes and brushwood of the Royal Park, and was recalled to -himself by finding his horse rearing and floundering up to his sides in -a slough. Having extricated the animal, he dismounted, threw his hat -beside him, and, kneeling down, bathed his head and face again and -again in the water of a little brook, which ran in many a devious -winding through the tangled briars and thorns. The cold, refreshing -ablution, assisted by the sharp air of the morning, soon brought him to -his recollection. - -"The fiend himself must have been by my elbow last night," he muttered, -as he stood bare-headed, in wild disorder, by the brook's side. "I've -lost before, and lost heavily too, but such a run, such an infernal -string of ruinous losses. First, a thousand pounds gone--swallowed up -in little more than an hour; and then the devil knows how much -more--curse me, if I can remember _how_ much I borrowed. I am over head -and ears in Chancey's books. How shall I face my father? and how, in -the fiend's name, am I to meet my engagements? Craven will hand me no -more of the money. Was I mad or drunk, to go on against such an -accursed tide of bad luck?--what fury from hell possessed me? I wish I -had thrust my hand between the bars, and burnt it to the elbow, before -I took the dice-box last night. What's to be done?"--he paused-- -"Yes--I _must_ do it--fate, destiny, circumstances drive me to it. I -_will_ marry the woman; she can't live very long--it's not likely; and -even if she does, what's that to me?--the world is wide enough for us -both, and once married, we need not plague one another much with our -society. I must see Chancey about those d----d bills or notes: curse -me, if I even know when they are payable. My brain swims like a sea. -Lady Stukely, Lady Stukely, you are a happy woman: it's an ill wind -that blows nobody good--I am resolved--my course is taken. First then -for Morley Court, and next for the wealthy widow's. I don't half like -the thing, but, d----n it, what other chance have I? Then away with -hesitation, away with thought; fate has ordained it." - -So saying, the young man donned his hat, caught the bridle of his -well-trained steed, vaulted into the saddle, and was soon far on his -way to Morley Court, where strange and startling tidings awaited his -arrival. - - - - -CHAPTER XXVII. - -THE DEPARTURE OF THE PEER--THE BILLET AND THE SHATTERED MIRROR. - - -Never yet did day pass more disagreeably to mortal man than that whose -early events we have recorded did to Lord Aspenly. His vanity and -importance had suffered more mortification within the last few hours -than he had ever before encountered in all the eight-and-sixty winters -of his previous useful existence. And spite of the major's assurances -to the contrary, he could not help feeling certain very unpleasant -misgivings, as the evening approached, touching the consequences likely -to follow to himself from his meditated retreat. - -He resolved by the major's advice to leave Morley Court without a -formal leave-taking, or, in short, any explanatory interview whatever -with Sir Richard. And for the purpose of taking his departure without -obstruction or annoyance, he determined that the hour of his setting -forth should be that at which the baronet was wont to retire for a time -to his dressing-room, previously to appearing at supper. The note which -was to announce his departure was written and sealed, and deposited in -his waistcoat pocket. He felt that it supplied but a very meagre -explanation of so decided a step as he was constrained to take; -nevertheless it was the only explanation he had to offer. He well knew -that its perusal would be followed by an explosion, and he not unwisely -thought it best, under all the circumstances, to withdraw to a -reasonable distance before springing the mine. - -The evening closed ominously in storm and cloud; the wind was hourly -rising, and distant mutterings of thunder bespoke a night of tempest. -Lord Aspenly had issued his orders with secrecy, and they were -punctually obeyed. At the hour indicated, his own and his servant's -horses were at the door. Lord Aspenly was crossing the hall, cloaked, -booted, and spurred for the road, when he encountered Emily Copland. - -"Dear me, my lord, can it be possible--surely you are not going to -leave us to-night?" - -"Indeed, it is but too true, fair lady," rejoined his lordship, with a -dolorous shrug. "An unlucky _contretemps_ requires my attendance in -town; my precipitate flight," he continued, with an attempt at a -playful smile, "is accounted for in this note, which perhaps you will -kindly deliver to Sir Richard, when next you see him. I trust, Miss -Copland, that fortune will often grant me the privilege of meeting you. -Be assured it is one which I prize above all others. Adieu." - -His lordship gallantly kissed the hand which was extended to receive -the note, and then, with his best bow, withdrew. - -A few petulant questions, which bespoke his inward acerbity, he -addressed to his servant--glanced with a very sour aspect at the -lowering sky--clambered stiffly into the saddle, and then, desiring his -attendant to follow him, rode down the avenue at a speed which seemed -prompted by an instinctive dread of pursuit. - -As the wind howled and the thunder rolled and rumbled nearer and -nearer, Emily Copland could not but wonder more and more what urgent -and peremptory cause could have induced the little peer to adopt this -sudden resolution, and to carry it into effect upon such a night of -storm. Surely that motive must be a strange and urgent one which would -not brook the delay of a few hours, especially during the violence of -such weather as the luxurious little nobleman had perhaps never -voluntarily encountered in the whole course of his life. Curiosity -prompted her to deliver the note which she held in her hand at once; -she therefore ran lightly upstairs, and rapidly threading all the -intervening lobbies and rambling passages, she knocked at her uncle's -door. - -"Come in, come in," cried the peevish voice of Sir Richard Ashwoode. - -The girl entered the room. The Italian was at the toilet, arranging his -master's dressing-case, and the baronet himself in his night-gown and -slippers, and with a pamphlet in his hand, reclined listlessly upon a -sofa. - -"Who is that?--who _is_ it?" inquired he in the same tone, without -turning his eyes from the volume which he read. - -"Per dina!" exclaimed the Neapolitan--"Mees Emily--she is vary seldom -come here. You are wailcome, Mees Emily; weel you seet down?--there is -chair. Sir Richard, it is Mees Emily." - -"What does the young lady want?" inquired he, drily. - -"I have gotten a note for you, uncle," replied she. - -"Well, put it down?--put it there on the table, anywhere; I presume it -will keep till morning," replied he, without removing his eyes from the -pages. - -"It is from Lord Aspenly," urged the girl. - -"Eh! Lord Aspenly. How--give it to me," said the baronet, raising -himself quickly and tossing the pamphlet aside. He broke the seal and -read the note. Whatever its contents were, they produced upon the -baronet an extraordinary effect; he started from the sofa with clenched -hands and frantic gesture. - -"Who--where--stop him, after him--he shall answer me--he shall!" cried, -or rather shrieked, the baronet in the hoarse, choking scream of fury. -"After him all--my sword, my horse. By ----, he'll reckon with me this -night." - -Never did the human form more fearfully embody the passions of hell; he -stood before them absolutely transformed. The quivering face was pale -as ashes; the livid veins, like blue knotted cordage, protruded upon -his forehead; the eye glared and rolled with the light of madness, and -as he shook and raved there before them, no dream ever conjured up a -spectacle more appalling; he spit upon the letter--he tore it into -fragments, and with his gouty feet stamped it into the fire. - -There was no extravagance of frenzy which he did not enact. He tossed -his arms into the air, and dashed his clenched hands upon the table; he -stamped, he stormed, he howled; and as with thick and furious utterance -he volleyed forth his incoherent threats, mandates, and curses, the -foam hung upon his blackened lips. - -"I'll bring him to the dust--to the earth. My very menials shall spurn -him. Almighty, that he should dare--trickster--liar--that he should -dare to practise upon _me_ this outrageous slight. Ay, ay--ay, -ay--laugh, my lord--laugh on; but by the ---- ----, this shall bring -you to your knees, ay, and to your grave; and you--_you_," thundered -he, turning upon the awe-struck and terrified young lady, "you no doubt -had _your_ share in this--ay, you have--you _have_--yes, I know -you--you--you--hollow, lying ----, quit my house--out with you--turn -her out--drive her out--away with her." - -As the horrible figure advanced towards her, the girl by an effort -roused herself from the dreadful fascination, and turning from him, -fled swiftly downstairs, and fell fainting at the parlour door. - -Sir Richard still strode through his chamber with the same frantic -evidences of unabated fury; and the Italian--the only remaining -spectator of the hideous scene--sate calmly in a chair by the toilet, -with his legs crossed, and his countenance composed into a kind of -sanctimonious placidity, which, however, spite of all his efforts, -betrayed at the corners of the mouth, and in the twinkle of the eye, a -certain enjoyment of the spectacle, which was not altogether consistent -with the perfect affection which he professed for his master. - -"Ay, ay, my lord," continued the baronet, madly, "laugh on--laugh while -you may; but by the ---- ----, you shall gnash your teeth for this!" - -"What coning, old gentleman is mi Lord Aspenly--ah! vary, vary," said -the Italian, reflectively. - -"You _shall_, my lord," continued Sir Richard, furiously. "Your -disgrace shall be public--exemplary--the insult shall recoil upon, -yourself--your punishment shall be memorable-public--tremendous." - -"Mi Lord Aspenly and Sir Richard--both so coning," continued the -Italian--"yees--yees--set one thief to catch the other." - -The Neapolitan had, no doubt, bargained for the indulgence of his -pleasant humour, as usual, free of cost; but he was mistaken. With the -quickness of light, Sir Richard grasped a massive glass decanter, full -of water, and hurled it at the head of his valet. Luckily for that -gentleman's brains, it missed its object, and, alighting upon a huge -mirror, it dashed it to fragments with a stunning crash. In the -extremity of his fury, Sir Richard grasped a heavy metal inkstand, and -just as the valet escaped through the private door of his room, hurled -_it_, too, at his head. Two such escapes were quite enough for Signor -Parucci on one evening; and not wishing to tempt his luck further, he -ran nimbly down the stairs, leaped into his own room, and bolted and -double-locked the door; and thence, as the night wore on, he still -heard Sir Richard pacing up and down his chamber, and storming and -raving in dreadful rivalry with the thunder and hurricane without. - - - - -CHAPTER XXVIII. - -THE THUNDER-STORM--THE EBONY STICK--THE UNSEEN VISITANT--TERROR. - - -At length the uproar in Sir Richard's room died away. The hoarse voice -in furious soliloquy, and the rapid tread as he paced the floor, were -no longer audible. In their stead was heard alone the stormy wind -rushing and yelling through the old trees, and at intervals the deep -volleying thunder. In the midst of this hubbub the Italian rubbed his -hands, tripped lightly up and down his room, placed his ear at the -keyhole, and chuckled and rubbed his hands again in a paroxysm of -glee--now and again venting his gratification in brief ejaculations of -intense delight--the very incarnation of the spirit of mischief. - -The sounds in Sir Richard's room had ceased for two hours or more; and -the piping wind and the deep-mouthed thunder still roared and rattled. -The Neapolitan was too much excited to slumber. He continued, -therefore, to pace the floor of his chamber--sometimes gazing through -his window upon the black stormy sky and the blue lightning, which -leaped in blinding flashes across its darkness, revealing for a moment -the ivied walls, and the tossing trees, and the fields and hills, which -were as instantaneously again swallowed in the blackness of the -tempestuous night; and then turning from the casement, he would plant -himself by the door, and listen with eager curiosity for any sound from -Sir Richard's room. - -As we have said before, several hours had passed, and all had long been -silent in the baronet's apartment, when on a sudden Parucci thought he -heard the sharp and well-known knocking of his patron's ebony stick -upon the floor. He ran and listened at his own door. The sound was -repeated with unequivocal and vehement distinctness, and was -instantaneously followed by a prolonged and violent peal from his -master's hand-bell. The summons was so sustained and vehement, that the -Italian at length cautiously withdrew the bolt, unlocked the door, and -stole out upon the lobby. So far from abating, the sound grew louder -and louder. On tip-toe he scaled the stairs, until he reached to about -the midway; and he there paused, for he heard his master's voice -exerted in a tone of terrified entreaty,-- - -"Not now--not now--avaunt--not now. Oh, God!--help," cried the -well-known voice. - -These words were followed by a crash, as of some heavy body springing -from the bed--then a rush upon the floor--then another crash. - -The voice was hushed; but in its stead the wild storm made a long and -plaintive moan, and the listener's heart turned cold. - -"_Malora_--_Corpo di Pluto!_" muttered he between his teeth. "What is -it? Will he reeng again? _Santo gennaro!_--there is something wrong." - -He paused in fearful curiosity; but the summons was not repeated. Five -minutes passed; and yet no sound but the howling and pealing of the -storm. Parucci, with a beating heart, ascended the stairs and knocked -at the door of his patron's chamber. No answer was returned. - -"Sir Richard, Sir Richard," cried the man, "do you want me, Sir -Richard?" - -Still no answer. He pushed open the door and entered. A candle, wasted -to the very socket, stood upon a table beside the huge hearse-like bed, -which, for the convenience of the invalid, had been removed from his -bed-chamber to his dressing-room. The light was dim, and waved -uncertainly in the eddies which found their way through the chinks of -the window, so that the lights and shadows flitted ambiguously across -the objects in the room. At the end of the bed a table had been upset; -and lying near it upon the floor was some-thing--a heap of bed-clothes, -or--could it be?--yes, it _was_ Sir Richard Ashwoode. - -Parncci approached the prostrate figure: it was lying upon its back, -the countenance fixed and livid, the eyes staring and glazed, and the -jaw fallen--he was a corpse. The Italian stooped down and took the hand -of the dead man--it was already cold; he called him by his name and -shook him, but all in vain. There lay the cunning intriguer, the -fierce, fiery prodigal, the impetuous, unrelenting tyrant, the -unbelieving, reckless man of the world, a ghastly lump of clay. - - [Illustration: "Parucci approached the prostate figure." - _To face page 156._] - -With strange emotions the Neapolitan gazed upon the lifeless effigy -from which the evil tenant had been so suddenly and fearfully called to -its eternal and unseen abode. - -"Gone--dead--all over--all past," muttered he, slowly, while he pressed -his foot upon the dead body, as if to satisfy himself that life was -indeed extinct--"quite gone. _Canchero!_ it was ugly death--there was -something with him; what was he speaking with?" - -Parucci walked to the door leading to the great staircase, but found it -bolted as usual. - -"Pshaw! there was nothing," said he, looking fearfully round the room -as he approached the body again, and repeating the negative as if to -reassure himself--"no, no--nothing, nothing." - -He gazed again on the awful spectacle in silence for several minutes. - -"_Corbezzoli_, and so it _is_ over," at length he ejaculated--"the game -is ended. See, see, the breast is bare, and there the two marks of -Aldini's stiletto. Ah! _briccone_, _briccone_, what wild faylow were -you--_panzanera_, for a pretty ankle and a pair of black eyes, you -would dare the devil. _Rotto di collo_, his face is moving!--pshaw! it -is only the light that wavers. _Diamine!_ the face is terrible. What -made him speak? nothing was with him--pshaw! nothing could come to him -here--no, no, nothing." - -As he thus spoke, the wind swept vehemently upon the windows with a -sound as if some great thing had rushed, against them, and was pressing -for admission, and the gust blew out the candle; the blast died away in -a lengthened wail, and then again came rushing and howling up to the -windows, as if the very prince of the powers of the air himself were -thundering at the casement; then again the blue dazzling lightning -glared into the room and gave place to deeper darkness. - -"Pah! that lightning smells like brimstone. _Sangue d'un dua_, I hear -something in the room." - -Yielding to his terrors, Parucci stumbled to the door opening upon the -great lobby, and with cold and trembling fingers drawing the bolt, -sprang to the stairs and shouted for assistance in a tone which -speedily assembled half the household in the chamber of death. - - - - -CHAPTER XXIX. - -THE CRONES--THE CORPSE, AND THE SHARPER. - - -Haggard, exhausted, and in no very pleasant temper, Henry Ashwoode rode -up the avenue of Morley Court. - -"I shall have a blessed conference with my father," thought he, "when -he learns the fate of the thousand pounds I was to have brought him--a -pleasant interview, by ----. How shall I open it? He'll be no better -than a Bedlamite. By ----, a pretty hot kettle of fish this--but -through it I must flounder as best I may--curse it, what am I afraid -of?" - -Thus muttering, he leaped from the saddle, leaving the well-trained -steed to make his way to the stable, and entered at the half open door. -In the hall he encountered a servant, but was too much occupied by his -own busy reflections to observe the earnest, awe-struck countenance of -the old domestic. - -"Mr. Henry--Mr. Henry--stay, sir--stay--one moment," said the man, -following and endeavouring to detain him. - -Ashwoode, however, without heeding the interruption, hastened by him, -and mounted the stairs with long and rapid strides, resolved not -unnecessarily to defer the interview which he believed must come sooner -or later. He opened Sir Richard's door, and entered the chamber. He -looked round the room for the object of his search in vain; but to his -unmeasured astonishment, beheld instead three old shrivelled hags -seated by the hearth, who all rose upon his entrance, except one, who -was warming something in a saucepan upon the fire, and each and all -resumed respectively the visages of woe which best became the occasion. - -"Eh! How is this? What brings you here, nurse?" exclaimed the young -man, in a tone of startled curiosity. - -The old lady whom he addressed thought it advisable to weep, and -instead of returning any answer, covered her face with her apron, -turned away her head, and shook her palsied hand towards him with a -gesture which was meant to express the mute anguish of unutterable -sorrow. - -"What _is_ it?" said Ashwoode. "Are you all tongue-tied? Speak, some of -you." - -"Oh, musha! musha! the crathur," observed the second witch, with a most -lugubrious shake of the head, "but it is _he_ that's to be pitied. Oh, -wisha--wisha--wiristhroo!" - -"What the d----l ails you? Can't you speak out? Where's my father?" -repeated the young man, with impatient perplexity. - -"With the blessed saints in glory," replied the third hag, giving the -saucepan a slight whisk to prevent the contents from burning, "and if -ever there was an angel on earth, _he_ was one. Well, well, he has his -reward--that's one comfort, sure. The crown of glory, with the holy -apostles--it's _he's_ to be envied--up in heaven, though he wint mighty -suddint, surely." - -This was followed by a kind of semi-dolorous shake of the head, in -which the three old women joined. - -With a hurried step, young Ashwoode strode to the bedside, drew the -curtain, and gazed upon the sharp and fixed features of the corpse, as -it leered with unclosed eyes from among the bed-clothes. It would not -have been easy to analyze the feelings with which he looked upon this -spectacle. A kind of incredulous horror sate upon his compressed -features. He touched the hand, which rested stiffly upon the coverlet, -as if doubtful that the old man, whom he had so long feared and obeyed, -was actually _dead_. The cold, dull touch that met his was not to be -mistaken, and he gazed fixedly with that awful curiosity with which in -death the well-known features of a familiar face are looked on. There -lay the being whose fierce passions had been to him from his earliest -days a source of habitual fear--in childhood, even of terror--henceforth -to be no more to him than a thing which had never been. There lay the -scheming, busy head, but what availed all its calculations and its -cunning now! No more thought or power has it than the cushion on which -it stiffly rests. There lies the proud, worldly, unforgiving, violent -man, a senseless effigy of cold clay--a grim, impassive monument of -the recent presence of the unearthly visitant. - -"It's a beautiful corpse, if the eyes were only shut," observed one of -the crones, approaching; "a purty corpse as ever was stretched." - -"The hands is very handsome entirely," observed another of them, "and -so small, like a lady's." - -"It's himself was the good master," observed the old nurse, with a slow -shake of the head; "the likes of him did not thread in shoe leather. -Oh! but my heart's sore for you this day, Misther Harry." - -Thus speaking, with a good deal of screwing and puckering, she -succeeded in squeezing a tear from one eye, like the last drop from an -exhausted lemon, and suffering it to rest upon her cheek, that it might -not escape observation, she looked round with a most pity-moving visage -upon her companions, and an expression of face which said as plainly as -words, "What a faithful, attached, old creature I am, and how well I -deserve any little token of regard which Sir Richard's will may have -bequeathed me." - -"Ah! then, look at him," said the matron of the saucepan, gazing with -the most touching commiseration upon Henry Ashwoode, "see how he looks -at it. Oh, but it's he that adored him! Oh, the crathur, what will he -do this day? Look at him there--he's an orphan now--God help him." - -"Be off with yourselves, and leave me here," said Henry (now Sir Henry) -Ashwoode, turning sharply upon them. "Send me some one that can speak a -word of sense: call Parucci here, and get out of the room every one of -you--away!" - -With abundance of muttering and grumbling, and many an indignant toss -of the head, and many a dignified sniff, the old women hobbled from the -room; and Henry Ashwoode had hardly been left alone, when the small -private door communicating with Parucci's apartment, opened, and the -valet peeped in. - -"Come in--come in, Jacopo," said the young man; "come in, and close the -door. When did this happen?" - -The Neapolitan recounted briefly the events which we have already -recorded. - -"It was a fit--some sudden seizure," said the young man, glancing at -the features of the corpse. - -"Yes, vary like, vary like," said Parucci; "he used to complain -sometimes that his head was sweeming round, and pains and aches; but -there was something more--something more." - -"What do you mean?--don't speak riddles," said Ashwoode. - -"I mean this, then," replied the Italian; "something came to -him--something was in the room when he died." - -"How do you know that?" inquired the young man. - -"I heard him talking loudly with it," replied he--"talking and praying -it to go away from him." - -"Why did you not come into the room yourself?" asked Ashwoode. - -"So I did, _Diamine_, so I did," replied he. - -"Well, what saw you?" - -"Nothing bote Sir Richard, dead--quite dead; and the far door was -bolted inside, just so as he always used to do; and when the candle -went out, the thing was here again. I heard it myself, as sure as I am -leeving man--I heard it--close up with me--by the body." - -"Tut, tut, man; speak sense. Do you mean to say that anyone talked with -you?" said Ashwoode. - -"I mean this, that something was in the chamber with me beside the dead -man," replied the valet, doggedly. "I heard it with my own ears. -_Zucche!_ I moste 'av been deaf, if I did not hear it. It said 'hish,' -and then again, close up to my face, it said it--'hish, hish,' and -laughed below its breath. Pah! the place smelt of brimstone." - -"In plain terms, then, you believe that the devil was in the room; is -that it?" said Ashwoode, with a ghastly smile of contempt. - -"Oh! no," replied the servant, with a sneer as ghastly; "it was an -angel, of course--an angel from heaven." - -"No more of this folly, sirrah," said Ashwoode, sharply. "Your own -d----d cowardice fills your brain with these fancies. Here, give me the -keys, and show me where the papers are laid. I shall first examine the -cabinets here, and then in the library. Now open this one; and do you -hear, Parucci, not one word of this cock-and-bull story of yours to the -servants. Good God! my brain's unsettled. I can scarcely believe my -father dead--dead," and again he stood by the bedside, and looked upon -the still face of the corpse. - -"We must send for Craven at once," said Ashwoode, turning from the bed; -"I must confer with him; he knows better than anyone else how all my -father's affairs stand. There are some d----d bills out, I believe, but -we'll soon know." - -Having despatched an urgent note to Craven, the insinuating attorney, -to whom we have already introduced the reader, Sir Henry Ashwoode -proceeded roughly to examine the contents of boxes, escritoires, and -cabinets filled with dusty papers, and accompanied and directed in his -search by the Italian. - -"You never heard him mention a will, did you?" inquired the young man. - -The Neapolitan shook his head. - -"You did not know of his making one?" he resumed. - -"No, no, I cannot remember," said the Italian, reflectively; "but," he -added quickly, while a peculiar meaning lit up the piercing eyes which -he turned upon the interrogator--"but do you weesh to _find_ one? Maybe -I could help you to find one." - -"Pshaw! folly; what do you take me for?" retorted Ashwoode, slightly -colouring, in spite of his habitual insensibility, for Parucci was too -intimate with his principles for him to assume ignorance of his -meaning. "Why the devil should I wish to find a will, since I inherit -everything without it?" - -"Signor," said the little man, after an interval of silence, during -which he seemed absorbed in deep reflection, "I have moche to say about -what I shall do with myself, and some things to ask from you. I will -begin and end it here and now--it is best over at once. I have served -Sir Richard there for thirty-four years. I have served him well--vary -well. I have taught him great secrets. I have won great abundance of -good moneys for him; if he was not reech it is not my fault. I attend -him through his sickness; and 'av been his companion for the half of a -long life. What else I 'av done for him I need not count up, but most -of it you know well. Sir Richard is there--dead and gone--the service -is ended, and now I 'av resolved I will go back again to Italy--to -Naples--where I was born. You shall never hear of me any more if you -will do for me one little thing." - -"What is it?--speak out. You want to extort money--is it so?" said -Ashwoode, slowly and sternly. - -"I want," continued the man, with equal distinctness and -deliberateness, "I want one thousand pounds. I do not ask a penny more, -and I will not take a penny less; and if you give me that, I will never -trouble you more with word of mine--you will never hear or see honest -Jacopo Parucci any more." - -"Come, come, Jacopo, that were paying a little too dear, even for such -a luxury," replied Ashwoode. "A thousand pounds! Ha! ha! A modest -request, truly. I half suspect your brain is a little crazed." - -"Remember what I have done--all I have done for him." rejoined the -Italian, coolly. "And above all, remember what I have _not_ done for -him. I could have had him hanged up by the neck--hanged like a dog--but -I never did. Oh! no, never--though not a day went by that I might not -'av brought the house full of officers, and have him away to jail and -get him hanged. Remember all that, signor, and say is it in conscience -too moche?--_rotta di collo!_ It is not half--no, nor quarter so moche -as I ought to ask. No, nor as you ought to give, signor, without me to -ask at all." - -"Parucci, you are either mad or drunk, or take me to be so," said -Ashwoode, who could not feel quite comfortable in disputing the claims -of the Italian, nor secure in provoking his anger. "But at all events, -there is ample time to talk about these matters. We can settle it all -more at our ease in a week or so." - -"No, no, signor. I will have my answer now," replied the man, doggedly. -"Mr. Craven has money now--the money of Miss Mary's land that Sir -Richard got from her. But though the money is there _now_, in a week or -leetle more we will not see moche of it, and my pocket weel remain -aimpty--_corbezzoli!_ am I a fool?" - -"I tell you, Parucci, I will give you no promises now," exclaimed the -young man, vehemently. "Why, d---- it, the blood is hardly cold in the -old man's veins, and you begin to pester me for money. Can't you wait -till he's buried?" - -"Ay--yees--yees--wait till he's buried--and then wait till the -mourning's off--and then wait for something more," said the Neapolitan, -with a sneer, "and so wait on till the money's all spent. No, no, -signor--_corpo di Bacco!_ I will have it now. I will have my answer -now, before Mr. Craven comes--_giuro di Dio_, I _will_ have my answer." - -"Don't talk like a madman, Parucci," replied the young man, angrily. "I -have no money here. I will make no promises. And besides, your request -is perfectly ridiculous and unconscionable." - -"I ask for a thousand pounds," replied the valet. "I must have the -promise _now_, signor, and the money to-day. If you do not promise it -here and at once, I will not ask again, and maybe you weel be sorry. I -will take one thousand pounds. I want no more, and I accept no less. -Signor, your answer." - -There was a cool, menacing insolence in the manner of the fellow which -stung the pride of the young baronet to the quick. - -"Scoundrel," said he, "do you think I am to be bullied by your -audacious threats? Do you dream that I am weak enough to suffer a -wretch like you to practise his extortions upon me? By ----, you'll -find to your cost that you have no longer to deal with a master who is -in your power. What care I for your utmost? Do your worst, miscreant--I -defy you. I warn you only to beware of giving an undue license to your -foul, lying tongue--for if I find that you have been spreading your -libellous tales abroad, I'll have you pilloried and whipped." - -"Well, you 'av given me an answer," replied the Italian coolly. "I weel -ask no more; and now, signor, farewell--adieu. I think, perhaps, you -will hear of me again. I will not return here any more after I go out; -and so, for the last time," he continued, approaching the cold form -which lay upon the bed, "farewell to you, Sir Richard Ashwoode. While I -am alive I will never see your face again--perhaps, if holy friars tell -true, we may meet again. Till then--till then--farewell." - -With this strange speech the Neapolitan, having gazed for a brief -space, with a strange expression, in which was a dash of something very -nearly approaching to sorrow, upon the stern, moveless face before him, -and then with an effort, and one long-drawn sigh, having turned away, -deliberately withdrew from the room through the small door which led to -his own apartment. - -"The lazzarone will come to himself in a little," muttered Ashwoode; -"he will think twice before he leaves this place--he'll cool--he'll -cool." - -Thus soliloquizing, the young man locked up the presses and desks which -he had opened, bolted the door after the Italian, and hurried from the -room; for, somehow or other, he felt uneasy and fearful alone in the -chamber with the body. - - - - -CHAPTER XXX. - -SKY-COPPER COURT. - - -Upon the evening of the same day, the Italian having collected together -the few movables which he called his own, and left them ready for -removal in the chamber which he had for so long exclusively occupied, -might have been seen, emerging from the old manor-house, and with a -small parcel in his hand, wending his solitary, moon-lit way across the -broad wooded pasture-lands of Morley Court. Without turning to look -back upon the familiar scene, which he was now for ever leaving--for -all his faculties and feelings, such as they were, had busy occupation -in the measures of revenge which he was keenly pursuing, he crossed the -little stile which terminated the pathway he was following, and -descended upon the public road--shaking from his hat and cloak the -heavy drops, which in his progress the close underwood through which he -brushed had shed upon him. With a quickened pace, and with a stern, -almost a savage countenance, over which from time to time there flitted -a still more ominous smile, and muttering between his teeth many a -short and vehement apostrophe as he went, he held his way directly -toward the city of Dublin; and once within the streets, he was not long -in reaching the ancient, and by this time to the reader, familiar -mansion, over whose portal swung the glittering sign of the "Cock and -Anchor." - -"Now, then," thought Parucci, "let us see whether I have not one card -left, and that a trump. What, because I wear no sword myself, shall you -escape unpunished? Fool--miscreant, I will this night conjure up such -an avenger as will appal even you; I will send him with a thousand -atrocious wrongs upon his head, frantic into your presence--you had -better cope with an actual incarnate demon." - -Such were the exulting thoughts which lighted the features of Parucci -with a fitful smile of singular grimness as he entered the inn yard, -where meeting one of the waiters, he promptly inquired for O'Connor. To -his dismay, however, he learnt that that gentleman had quitted the -"Cock and Anchor" on the day before, and whither he had gone, none -could inform him. As he stood, pondering in bitter disappointment what -step was next to be taken, somebody tapped his shoulder smartly from -behind. He turned, and beheld the square form and swarthy features of -O'Hanlon, whose interview with O'Connor is recorded early in these -pages. After a few brief questions and answers, in which, by a -reference to the portly proprietor of the "Cock and Anchor," who -vouched for the accuracy of his representations, O'Hanlon satisfied the -vindictive foreigner that he might safely communicate the subject of -his intended communication to _him_, as to the sure friend of Mr. -O'Connor. Both personages, Parucci and O'Hanlon--or, as he was there -called, Dwyer--repaired to a private room, where they remained closeted -for fully half an hour. That interview had its consequences--consequences -of which sooner or later the reader shall fully hear, and which were -perhaps somewhat unlike those calculated upon by honest Jacopo. - -It is not necessary to detain the reader with a description of the -ceremonial which conducted the mortal remains of Sir Henry Ashwoode to -the grave. It is enough to say that if pomp and pageantry, lavished -upon the fleeting tenement of clay which it has deserted, can delight -the departed spirit, that of the deceased baronet was happy. The -funeral was an aristocratic procession, well worthy of the rank and -pretensions of the distinguished dead, and in numbers and _éclat_ such -as to satisfy even the exactions of Irish pride. - -Carriages and four were there in abundance, and others of lesser note -without number. Outriders, and footmen, and corpulent coachmen filled -the court and avenue of the manor, and crowded its hall, where -refreshments enough for a garrison were heaped together upon the -tables. The funeral feasting and revelry finished, the enormous mob of -coaches, horses, and lacqueys began to arrange itself, and assume -something like order. The great velvet-covered coffin was carried out -upon the shoulders of six footmen, staggering under the leaden load, -and was laid in the hearse. The high-born company, dressed in the -fantastic trappings of mourning, began to show themselves one by one, -or in groups, at the hall-door, and took their places in their -respective vehicles; and at length the enormous volume began to uncoil, -and gradually passing down the great avenue, and winding along the -road, to proceed toward the city, covering from the coffin to the last -carriage a space of more than a mile in length. - -The body was laid in the aisle of St. Audoen's Church, and a comely -monument, recording in eloquent periods the virtues of the deceased, -was reared by the piety of his son. The aisle, however, in which it -stood, is now a rootless ruin; and this, along with many a more curious -relic, has crumbled into dust from its time-worn wall: so that there -now remains, except in these idle pages, no record to tell posterity -that so important a personage as Sir Richard Ashwoode ever existed at -all. - -Of all who donned "the customary suit of solemn black" upon the death -of Sir Richard Ashwoode, but one human being felt a pang of sorrow. But -there _was_ one whose grief was real and poignant--one who mourned for -him as though he had been all that was fond and tender--who forgot and -forgave all his faults and failings, and remembered only that he had -been her father and she his child, and companion, and gentle, patient -nurse-tender through many an hour of pain and sickness. Mary wept for -his death bitterly for many a day and night; for all that he had ever -done or said to give her pain, her noble nature found entire -forgiveness, and every look, and smile, and word, and tone that had -ever borne the semblance of kindness, were all treasured in her memory, -and all called up again in affectionate and sorrowful review. Seldom -indeed had the hard nature of Sir Richard evinced even such transient -indications of tenderness, and when they did appear they were still -more rarely genuine. But Mary felt that an object of her kindly care -and companionship was gone--a familiar face for ever hidden--one of the -only two who were near to her in the ties of blood, departed to return -no more, and with all the deep, strong yearnings of kindred, she wept -and mourned after her father. - -Emily Copland had left Morley Court and was now residing with her gay -relative, Lady Stukely, so that poor Mary was left almost entirely -alone, and her brother, Sir Henry, was so immersed in business and -papers that she scarcely saw him even for a moment except while he -swallowed his hasty meals; and sooth to say, his thoughts were not much -oftener with her than his person. - -Though, as the reader is no doubt fully aware, Sir Henry's grief for -the loss of his parent was by no means of that violent kind which -refuses to be comforted, yet he was too chary of the world's opinion, -as well as too punctilious an observer of etiquette, to make the -cheerfulness of his resignation under this dispensation startlingly -apparent by any overt act of levity or indifference. Sir Henry, -however, must see Gordon Chancey; he must ascertain how much he owes -him, and when it is all payable--facts of which he has, if any, the -very dimmest and vaguest possible recollection. Therefore, upon the -very day on which the funeral had taken place, as soon as the evening -had closed, and darkness succeeded the twilight, the young baronet -ordered his trusty servant to bring the horses to the door, and then -muffling himself in his cloak, and drawing it about his face, so that -even in the reflection of an accidental link he might not by -possibility be recognized, he threw himself into the saddle, and -telling his servant to follow him, rode rapidly through the dense -obscurity towards the town. - -When he had reached Whitefriar Street, he checked his pace to a walk, -and calling his attendant to his side, directed him to await his return -there; then dismounting, he threw him the bridle, and proceeded upon -his way. Guided by the hazy starlight and by an occasional gleam from a -shop-window or tavern-door, as well as by the dusky glimmer of the -wretched street lamps, the young man directed his course for some way -along the open street, and then turning to the right into a dark -archway which opened from it, he found himself in a small, square -court, surrounded by tall, dingy, half-ruinous houses which loomed -darkly around, deepening the shadows of the night into impenetrable -gloom. From some of these dilapidated tenements issued smothered sounds -of quarrelling, indistinctly mingled with the crying of children and -the shrill accents of angry females; from others the sounds of -discordant singing and riotous carousal; while, as far as the eye could -discern, few places could have been conceived with an aspect more -dreary, forbidding, and cut-throat, and, in all respects, more -depressing and suspicious. - -"This is unquestionably the place," exclaimed Ashwoode, as he stepped -cautiously over the broken pavement; "there is scarcely another like it -in this town or any other; but beshrew me if I remember which is the -house." - -He entered one of them, the hall-door of which stood half open, and -through the chinks of whose parlour-door were issuing faint streams of -light and gruff sounds of talking. At one of these doors he knocked -sharply with his whip-handle, and instantly the voices were hushed. -After a silence of a minute or two, the parties inside resumed their -conversation, and Ashwoode more impatiently repeated his summons. - -"There _is_ someone knocking--I tould you there was," exclaimed a harsh -voice from within. "Open the doore, Corny, and take a squint." - -The door opened cautiously; a great head, covered with shaggy -elf-locks, was thrust through the aperture, and a singularly -ill-looking face, as well as the imperfect light would allow Ashwoode -to judge, was advanced towards his. The fellow just opened the door far -enough to suffer the ray of the candle to fall upon the countenance of -his visitant, and staring suspiciously into his face for some time, -while he held the lock of the door in his hand, he asked,-- - -"Well, neighbour, did you rap at this doore?" - -"Yes, I want to be directed to Mr. Chancey's rooms." replied Ashwoode. - -"Misthur who?" repeated the man. - -"Mr. Chancey--_Chancey_: he lives in this court, and, unless I am -mistaken, in this house, or the next to it," rejoined Ashwoode. - -"_Chancey_: I don't know him," answered the man. "Do _you_ know where -Mr. Chancey lives, Garvey?" - -"Not I, nor don't care," rejoined the person addressed, with a hoarse -growl, and without taking the trouble to turn from the fire, over which -he was cowering, with his back toward the door. "Slap the _doore_ to, -can't you? and don't keep gostherin' there all night." - -"No, he won't slap the doore," exclaimed the shrill voice of a female. -"I'll see the gentleman myself. Well, sir," she cried, presenting a -tall, raw-boned figure, arrayed in tawdry rags, at the door, and -shoving the man with the unkempt locks aside, she eyed Ashwoode with a -leer and a grin that were anything but inviting--"well, sir, is there -anything I can do for you. The chaps here is not used to quality, an' -Pather has a mighty ignorant manner; but they are placible boys, an' -manes no offence. Who is it you're lookin' for, sir?" - -"Mr. Gordon Chancey: he lives in one of these houses. Can you direct me -to him?" - -"No, we can't," said the fellow from the fire, in a savage tone. "I -tould you before. Won't you _take_ your answer--won't you? Slap that -_doore_, Corny, or I'll get up to him myself." - -"Hould your tongue, you gaol bird, won't you?" rejoined the female, in -accents of shrill displeasure. "_Chancey!_ is not he the counsellor -gentleman; he has a yallow face an' a down look, and never has his -hands out of his breeches' pockets?" - -"The very man," replied Ashwoode. - -"Well, sir, _he does_ live in this court: he has the parlour next -doore. The street _doore_ stands open--it's a lodging-house. One doore -further on; you can't miss him." - -"Thank you, thank you," said Ashwoode. "Good-night." And as the door -was closed upon him, he heard the voices of those within raised in hot -debate. - -He stumbled and groped his way into the hall of the house which the -gracious nymph, to whom he had just bidden farewell, indicated, and -knocked stoutly at the parlour-door. It was opened by a sluttish girl, -with bare feet, and a black eye, which had reached the green and yellow -stage of recovery. She had probably been interrupted in the midst of a -spirited altercation with the barrister, for ill humour and excitement -were unequivocally glowing in her face. - -Ashwoode walked in, and found matters as we shall describe them in the -next chapter. - - - - -CHAPTER XXXI. - -THE USURER AND THE OAKEN BOX. - - -The room which Sir Henry Ashwoode entered was one of squalid disorder. -It was a large apartment, originally handsomely wainscoted, but damp -and vermin had made woeful havoc in the broad panels, and the ceiling -was covered with green and black blotches of mildew. No carpet covered -the bare boards, which were strewn with fragments of papers, rags, -splinters of an old chest, which had been partially broken up to light -the fire, and occasionally a potato-skin, a bone, or an old shoe. The -furniture was scant, and no one piece matched the other. Little and bad -as it was, its distribution about the room was more comfortless and -wretched still. All was dreary disorder, dust, and dirt, and damp, and -mildew, and rat-holes. - -By a large grate, scarcely half filled with a pile of ashes and a few -fragments of smouldering turf, sat Gordon Chancey, the master of this -notable establishment; his arm rested upon a dirty deal table, and his -fingers played listlessly with a dull and battered pewter goblet, which -he had just replenished from a two-quart measure of strong beer which -stood upon the table, and whose contents had dabbled that piece of -furniture with sundry mimic lakes and rivers. Unrestrained by the -ungenerous confinement of a fender, the cinders strayed over the -cracked hearthstone, and even wandered to the boards beyond it. Mr. -Gordon Chancey was himself, too, rather in deshabille. He had thrown -off his shoes, and was in his stockings, which were unfortunately -rather imperfect at the extremities. His waistcoat was unbuttoned, and -his cravat lay upon the table, swimming in a sea of beer. As Ashwoode -entered, with ill-suppressed disgust, this loathly den, the object of -his visit languidly turned his head and his sleepy eyes over his -shoulder, in the direction of the door, and without making the smallest -effort to rise, contented himself with extending his hand along the -sloppy table, palm upwards, for Ashwoode to shake, at the same time -exclaiming, with a drawl of gentle placidity,-- - -"Oh, dear--oh, dear me! Mr. Ashwoode, I declare to God I am very glad -to see you. Won't you sit down and have some beer? Eliza, bring a cup -for my friend, Mr. Ashwoode. Will you take a pipe too? I have some -elegant tobacco. Bring _my_ pipe to Mr. Ashwoode, and the little -canister that M'Quirk left here last night." - -"I am much obliged to you," said Ashwoode, with difficulty swallowing -his anger, and speaking with marked _hauteur_, "my visit, though an -unseasonable one, is entirely one of business. I shall not give you the -trouble of providing any refreshment for me; in a word, I have neither -time nor appetite for it. I want to learn exactly how you and I stand: -five minutes will show me the state of the account." - -"Oh, dear--oh, dear! and won't you take any beer, then? it's elegant -beer, from Mr. M'Gin's there, round the corner." - -Ashwoode bit his lips, and remained silent. - -"Eliza, bring a chair for my friend, Sir Henry Ashwoode," continued -Chancey; "he must be very tired--indeed he must, after his long walk; -and here, Eliza, take the key and open the press, and do you see, bring -me the little oak box on the second shelf. She's a very good little -girl, Mr. Ashwoode, I assure you. Eliza is a very sensible, good little -girl. Oh, dear!--oh, dear! but your father's death was very sudden; but -old chaps always goes off that way, on short notice. Oh, dear me!--I -declare to ----, only I had a pain in my--(here he mentioned his lower -stomach somewhat abruptly)--I'd have gone to the funeral this morning. -There was a great lot of coaches, wasn't there?" - -"Pray, Mr. Chancey," said Ashwoode, preserving his temper with an -effort, "let us proceed at once to business. I am pressed for time, and -I shall be glad, with as little delay as possible, to ascertain--what I -suppose there can be no difficulty in learning--the exact state of our -account." - -"Well, I'm very sorry, so I am, Mr. Ashwoode, that you are in such a -hurry--I declare to ---- I am," observed Chancey, supplying big goblet -afresh from the larger measure. "Eliza, have you the box? Well, bring -it here, and put it down on the table, like an elegant little girl." - -The girl shoved a small oaken chest over to Chancey's elbow; and he -forthwith proceeded to unlock it, and to draw forth the identical red -leather pocket-book which had received in its pages the records of -Ashwoode's disasters upon the evening of their last meeting. - -"Here I have them. Captain Markham--no, that is not it," said Chancey, -sleepily turning over the leaves; "but this is it, Mr. Ashwoode--ay, -here; first, two hundred pounds, promissory note--payable one week -after date. Mr. Ashwoode, again, one hundred and fifty--promissory -note--one week. Lord Kilblatters--no--ay, here again--Mr. Ashwoode, two -hundred--promissory note--one week. Mr. Ashwoode, two hundred and -fifty--promissory note--one week. Mr. Ashwoode, one hundred; Mr. -Ashwoode, fifty. Oh, dear me! dear me! Mr. Ashwoode, three hundred." -And so on, till it appeared that Sir Henry Ashwoode stood indebted to -Gordon Chancey, Esq., in the sum of six thousand four hundred and fifty -pounds, for which he had passed promissory notes which would all become -due in two days' time. - -"I suppose," said Ashwoode, "these notes have hardly been negotiated. -Eh?" - -"Oh, dear me! No--oh, no, Mr. Ashwoode," replied Chancey. "They have -not gone out of my desk. I would not put them into the hands of a -stranger for any trifling advantage to myself. Oh, dear me! not at -all." - -"Well, then, I suppose you can renew them for a fortnight or so, or -hold them over--eh?" asked Ashwoode. - -"I'm sure I can," rejoined Chancey. "The bills belong to the old -cripple that lent the money; and _he_ does whatever I bid him. He -trusts it all to me. He gives me the trouble, and takes the profit -himself. Oh! he _does_ confide in me. I have only to say the word, and -it's done. They shall be renewed or held over as often as you wish. -Indeed, I can answer for it. Dear me, it would be very hard if I could -not." - -"Well, then, Mr. Chancey," replied Ashwoode, "I may require it, or I -may not. Craven has the promise of a large sum of money, within two or -three days--part of the loan he has already gotten. Will you favour me -with a call on to-morrow afternoon at Morley Court. I will then have -heard definitely from Craven, and can tell you whether I require time -or not." - -"Very good, sir--very fair, indeed, Mr. Ashwoode. Nothing fairer," -rejoined the lawyer. "But don't give yourself any uneasiness. Oh, dear, -on no account; for I declare to ---- I would hold them over as long as -you like. Oh, dear me--indeed but I would. Well, then, I'll call out at -about four o'clock." - -"Very good, Mr. Chancey," replied Ashwoode. "I shall expect you. -Meanwhile, good-night." So they separated. - -The young baronet reached his ancestral dwelling without adventure of -any kind, and Mr. Gordon Chancey poured out the last drops of beer from -the inverted can into his pewter cup, and draining it calmly, anon -buttoned his waistcoat, shook the wet from his cravat, and tied it on, -thrust his feet into his shoes, and flinging his cocked hat carelessly -upon his head, walked forth in deep thought into the street, whistling -a concerto of his own invention. - - - - -CHAPTER XXXII. - -THE DIABOLIC WHISPER. - - -Gordon Chancey sauntered in his usual lazy, lounging way, with his -hands in his pockets, down the street. After a listless walk of -half-an-hour he found himself at the door of a handsome house, in the -immediate neighbourhood of the Castle. He knocked, and was admitted by -a servant in full livery. - -"Is he in the same room?" inquired Chancey. - -"Yes, sir," replied the man; and without further parley, the learned -counsel proceeded upstairs, and knocked at the drawing-room door, -which, without waiting for any answer, he forthwith opened. - -Nicholas Blarden--with two ugly black plaisters across his face, his -arm in a sling, and his countenance bearing in abundance the livid -marks of his late rencounter--stood with his back to the fire-place; a -table, blazing with wax-lights, and stored with glittering wine-flasks -and other matters, was placed at a little distance before him. As the -man of law entered the room, the countenance of the invalid relaxed -into an ugly grin of welcome. - -"Well, Gordy, boy, how goes the game? Out with your news, old -rat-catcher," said Blarden, in high good humour. - -"Dear me, dear me! but the night is mighty chill, Mr. Blarden," -observed Chancey, filling a glass of wine to the brim, and sipping it -uninvited. "News," he continued, letting himself drop into a -chair--"news; well, there's not much stirring worth telling you." - -"Come, what _is_ it? You're not come here for nothing, old fox," -rejoined Blarden, "I know by the ---- twinkle in the corner of your -eye." - -"Well, _he_ has been with me, just now," drawled Chancey. - -"Ashwoode?" - -"Yes." - -"Well! what does he want--what does he want, eh?" asked Blarden, with -intense excitement. - -"He says he'll want time for the notes," replied Chancey. - -"God be thanked!" ejaculated Blarden, and followed this ejaculation -with a ferocious burst of laughter. "We'll have him, Chancey, boy, if -only we know how to play him--by ----, we'll have him, as sure as -there's heat in hell." - -"Well, maybe we will," rejoined Chancey. - -"Does he say he can't pay them on the day?" asked Blarden, exultingly. - -"No; he says _maybe_ he can't," replied the jackal. - -"That's all one," cried Blarden. "What do you think? Do you think he -can?" - -"I think maybe he can, if we _squeeze_ him," replied Chancey. - -"Then _don't_ squeeze him--he must not get out of our books on any -terms--we'll lose him if he does," said Nicholas. - -"We'll not renew the notes, but hold them over," said Chancey. "He must -not feel them till he _can't_ pay them. We'll make them sit light on -him till then--give him plenty of line for a while--rope enough and a -little patience--and the devil himself can't keep him out of the -noose." - -"You're right--you _are_, Gordy, boy," rejoined Blarden. "Let him get -through the ready money first--eh?--and then into the stone jug with -him--we'll just choose our own time for striking." - -"I tell you what it is, if you are just said and led by me, you'll have -a _quare_ hold on him before three months are past and gone," said -Chancey, lazily--"mind I tell you, you will." - -"Well, Gordy, boy, fill again--fill again--here's success to you." - -Chancey filled, and quaffed his bumper, with, a matter-of-fact, -business-like air. - -"And do you mind me, boy," continued Blarden, "spare _nothing_ in this -business--bring Ashwoode entirely under my knuckle--and, by ----, I'll -make it a great job for you." - -"Indeed--indeed but I will, Mr. Blarden, if I can," rejoined Chancey; -"and I _think_ I can--I think I know a way, so I do, to get a _halter_ -round his neck--do you mind?--and leave the rope's end in your hand, to -hang him or not, as you like." - -"To _hang_ him!" echoed Blarden, like one who hears something too good -to be true. - -"Yes, to hang him by the neck till he's dead--dead--dead," repeated -Chancey, imperturbably. - -"How the blazes will you do it?" demanded the wretch, anxiously. "Pish, -it's all prate and vapour." - -Gordon Chancey stole a suspicious glance round the room from the corner -of his eye, and then suffering his gaze to rest sleepily upon the fire -once more, he stretched out one of his lank arms, and after a little -uncertain groping, succeeding in grasping the collar of his companion's -coat, and drawing his head down toward him. Blarden knew Mr. Chancey's -way, and without a word, lowered his ear to that gentleman's mouth, who -forthwith whispered something into it which produced a marked effect -upon Mr. Blarden. - -"If you do _that_," replied he with ferocious exultation, "by ----, -I'll make your fortune for you at a slap." - -And so saving, he struck his hand with heavy emphasis upon the -barrister's shoulder, like a man who clenches a bargain. - -"Well, Mr. Blarden," replied Chancey, in the same drowsy tone, "as I -said before, I declare it's my opinion I can, so it is--I think I can." - -"And so do _I_ think you can--by ----, I'm _sure_ of it," exclaimed -Blarden triumphantly; "but take some more--more wine, won't you? take -some more, and stay a bit, can't you?" - -Chancey had made his way to the door with his usual drowsy gait; and, -passing out without deigning any answer or word of farewell, stumbled -lazily downstairs. There was nothing odd, however, in this -leave-taking; it was Chancey's way. - -"We'll do it, and easily too," muttered Blarden with a grin of -exultation. "I never knew him fail--that fellow is worth a mine. Ho! -ho! Sir Henry, beware--beware. Egad, you had better keep a bright -look-out. It's rather late for green goslings to look to their necks, -when the fox claps his nose in the poultry-yard." - - - - -CHAPTER XXXIII. - -SHOWING HOW SIR HENRY ASHWOODE PLAYED AND PLOTTED--AND OF THE SUDDEN -SUMMONS OF GORDON CHANCEY. - - -Henry Ashwoode was but too anxious to avail himself of the indulgence -offered by Gordon Chancey. With the immediate urgency of distress, any -thoughts of prudence or retrenchment which may have crossed his mind -vanished, and along with the command of new resources came new wants -and still more extravagant prodigality. His passion for gaming was now -indulged without restraint, and almost without the interruption of a -day. For a time his fortune rallied, and sums, whose amount would -startle credulity, flowed into his hands, only to be lost and -squandered again in dissipation and extravagance, which grew but the -wilder and more reckless, in proportion as the sources which supplied -them were temporarily increased. At length, after some coquetting, the -giddy goddess again deserted him. Night after night brought new and -heavier disasters; and with this reverse of fortune came its invariable -accompaniment--a wilder and more daring recklessness, and a more -unmeasured prodigality in hazarding larger and larger sums; as if the -victims of ill luck sought, by this frantic defiance, to bully and -browbeat their capricious persecutor into subjection. There was -scarcely an available security of any kind which he had not already -turned into money, and now he began to feel, in downright earnest, the -iron gripe of ruin closing upon him. - -He was changed--in spirit and in aspect changed. The unwearied fire of -a secret fever preyed upon his heart and brain; an untold horror robbed -him of his rest, and haunted him night and day. - -"Brother," said Mary Ashwoode, throwing one hand fondly round his neck, -and with the other pressing his, as he sate moodily, with compressed -lips and haggard face, and eyes fixed upon the floor, in the old -parlour of Morley Court--"dear brother, you are greatly changed; you -are ill; some great trouble weighs upon your mind. Why will you keep -all your cares and griefs from me? I would try to comfort you, whatever -your sorrows may be. Then let me know it all, dear brother; why should -your griefs be hidden from me? Are there not now but the two of us in -the wide world to care for each other?" and as she said this her eyes -filled with tears. - -"You would know what grieves me?" said Ashwoode, after a short silence, -and gazing fixedly in her face, with stern, dilated eyes, and pale -features. He remained again silent for a time, and then uttered the -emphatic word--"_Ruin._" - -"How, dear brother, what has befallen you?" asked the poor girl, -pressing her brother's hand more kindly. - -"I say, we are ruined--both of us. I've lost everything. We are little -better than beggars," replied he. "There's nothing I can call my own," -he resumed, abruptly, after a pause, "but that old place, Incharden. -It's worth next to nothing--bog, rocks, brushwood, old stables, and -all--absolutely nothing. We are ruined--beggared--that's all." - -"Oh! brother, I am glad we have still that dear old place. Oh, let us -go down and live there together, among the quiet glens, and the old -green woods; for amongst its pleasant shades I have known happier times -than shall ever come again for me. I would like to ramble there again -in the pleasant summer time, and hear the birds sing, and the sound of -the rustling leaves, and the clear winding brook, as I used to hear -them long ago. _There_ I could think over many things, that it breaks -my heart to think of here; and you and I, brother, would be always -together, and we would soon be as happy as either of us can be in this -sorrowful world." - -She threw her arms around her brother's neck, and while the tears -flowed fast and silently, she kissed his pale and wasted cheeks again -and again. - -"In the meantime," said Ashwoode, starting up abruptly, and looking at his -watch, "I must go into town, and see some of these harpies--usurers--that -have gotten their fangs in me. It is as well to keep out of jail as long -as one can," and, with a very joyless laugh, he strode from the room. - -As he rode into town, his thoughts again and again recurred to his old -scheme respecting Lady Stukely. - -"It is after all my only chance," said he. "I have made my mind up -fifty times to it, but somehow or other, d----n me, if I could ever -bring myself to _do_ it. That woman will live for five-and-twenty years -to come, and she would as easily part with the control of her property -as with her life. While she lives I must be her dependent--her slave: -there is no use in mincing the matter, I shall not have the command of -a shilling, but as she pleases; but patience--patience, Henry Ashwoode, -sooner or later death _will_ come, and then begins your jubilee." - -As these thoughts hurried through his brain, he checked his horse at -Lady Betty Stukely's door. - -As he traversed the capacious hall, and ascended the handsome -staircase--"Well," thought he, "even _with_ her ladyship, this were -better than the jail." - -In the drawing-room he found Lady Stukely, Emily Copland, and Lord -Aspenly. The two latter evidently deep in a very desperate flirtation, -and her ladyship meanwhile very considerately employed in trying a -piece of music on the spinet. - -The entrance of Sir Henry produced a very manifest sensation among the -little party. Lady Stukely looked charmingly conscious and fluttered. -Emily Copland smiled a gracious welcome, for though she and her -handsome cousin perfectly well understood each other, and both well -knew that marriage was out of the question, they had each, what is -called, a fancy for the other; and Emily, with the unreasonable -jealousy of a woman, felt a kind of soreness, secretly and almost -unacknowledged to herself, at Sir Henry's marked devotion to Lady -Stukely, though, at the same time, no feeling of her own heart, beyond -the lightest and the merest vanity, had ever been engaged in favour of -Henry Ashwoode. Of the whole party, Lord Aspenly alone was a good deal -disconcerted, and no wonder, for he had not the smallest notion upon -what kind of terms he and Henry Ashwoode were to meet;--whether that -young gentleman would shake hands with him as usual, or proceed to -throttle him on the spot. Ashwoode was, however, too completely a man -of the world to make any unnecessary fuss about the awkward affair of -Morley Court; he therefore met the little nobleman with cold and easy -politeness; and, turning from him, was soon engaged in an animated and -somewhat tender colloquy with the love-stricken widow, whose last words -to him, as at length he arose to take his leave, were,-- - -"Remember to-morrow evening, Sir Henry, we shall look for you early; -and you have promised not to disappoint your cousin Emily--has not he, -Emily? I shall positively be affronted with you for a week at least if -you are late. I am very absolute, and never forgive an act of -rebellion. I'm quite a little sovereign here, and very despotic; so you -had better not venture to be naughty." - -Here she raised her finger, and shook it in playful menace at her -admirer. - -Lady Stukely had, however, little reason to doubt his punctuality. If -she had but known the true state of the case she would have been aware -that in literal matter-of-fact she had become as necessary to Sir Henry -Ashwoode as his daily bread. - -Accordingly, next evening Sir Henry Ashwoode was one of the gayest of -the guests in Lady Stukely's drawing-rooms. His resolution was taken; -and he now looked round upon the splendid rooms and all their rich -furniture as already his own. Some chatted, some played cards, some -danced the courtly minuet, and some hovered about from group to group, -without any determinate occupation, and sharing by turns in the -frivolities of all. Ashwoode was, of course, devoted exclusively to his -fair hostess. She was all smiles, and sighs, and bashful coyness; he -all tenderness and fire. In short, he felt that all he wanted at that -moment was the opportunity of asking, to ensure his instantaneous -acceptance. While thus agreeably employed, the young baronet was -interrupted by a footman, who, with a solemn bow, presented a silver -salver, on which was placed an exceedingly dirty and crumpled little -note. Ashwoode instantly recognized the hand in which the address was -written, and snatching the filthy billet from its conspicuous position, -he thrust it into his waistcoat pocket. - -"A messenger, sir, waits for an answer," murmured the servant. - -"Where is he?" - -"He waits in the hall, sir." - -"Then I shall see him in a moment--tell him so," said Ashwoode; and -turning to Lady Stukely, he spoke a few sweet words of gallantry, and -with a forced smile, and casting a longing, lingering look behind, he -glided from the room. - -"So, what can this mean?" muttered he, as he placed himself immediately -under a cluster of lights in the lobby, and hastily drew forth the -crumpled note. He read as follows:-- - - "MY DEAR SIR HENRY,--There is bad news--as bad as can be. Wherever - you are, and whatever you are doing, come on receipt of these, on - the moment, to me. If you don't, you'll be done for to-morrow; so - come at once. Bobby M'Quirk will hand you these, and if you follow - him, will bring you where I am now. I am desirous to serve you, and - if the art of man can do it, to keep you out of this pickle. - - "Your obedient, humble servant, - - "GORDON CHANCEY." - - "N.B.--It is about these infernal notes, so come quickly." - -Through this production did Ashwoode glance with no very enviable -feelings; and tearing the note into the very smallest possible pieces, -he ran downstairs to the hall, where he found the aristocratic Mr. -M'Quirk, with his chin as high as ever, marching up and down with a -free and easy swagger, and one arm akimbo, and whistling the while an -air of martial defiance. - -"Did you bring a note to me just now?" inquired Ashwoode. - -"I have had that pleasure," replied M'Quirk, with an aristocratic air. -"I presume I am addressed by Sir Henry Ashwoode, baronet. _I_ am Mr. -M'Quirk--Mr. Robert M'Quirk. Sir Henry, I kiss your hands--proud of the -honour of your acquaintance." - -"Is Mr. Chancey at his own lodging now?" inquired Ashwoode, without -appearing to hear the speeches which M'Quirk thought proper to deliver. - -"Why, no," replied the little gentleman. "Our friend Chancey is just -now swigging his pot of beer, and smoking his pen'orth of pigtail in -the "Old Saint Columbkil," in Ship Street--a comfortable house, Sir -Henry, as any in Dublin, and very cheap--cheap as dirt, sir. A Welsh -rarebit, one penny; a black pudding, and neat cut of bread, and three -leeks, for--how much do you guess?" - -"Have the goodness to conduct me to Mr. Chancey, wherever he is," said -Ashwoode drily. "I will follow--go on, sir." - -"Well, Sir Henry, I'm your man--I'm your man--glad of your company, Sir -Henry," exclaimed the insinuating Bobby M'Quirk; and following his -voluble conductor in obstinate silence, Sir Henry Ashwoode found -himself, after a dark and sloppy walk, for the first, though not for -the last time in his life, under the roof tree of the "Old Saint -Columbkil." - - - - -CHAPTER XXXIV. - -THE "OLD ST. COLUMBKIL"--A TÊTE-À-TÊTE IN THE "ROYAL RAM"--THE TEMPTER. - - -The "Old Saint Columbkil" was a sort of low sporting tavern frequented -chiefly by horse-jockeys, cock-fighters, and dog-fanciers; it had its -cock-pits, and its badger-baits, and an unpretending little "hell" of -its own; and, in short, was deficient in none of the attractions most -potent in alluring such company as it was intended to receive. - -As Ashwoode, preceded by his agreeable companion, made his way into the -low-roofed and irregular chamber, his senses were assailed by the thick -fumes of tobacco, the reek of spirits, and the heavy steams of the hot -dainties which ministered to the refined palates of the patrons of the -"Old Saint Columbkil;" and through the hazy atmosphere, seated at a -table by himself, and lighted by a solitary tallow candle with a -portentous snuff, and canopied in the clouds of tobacco smoke which he -himself emitted, Gordon Chancey was dimly discernible. - -"Ah! dear me, dear me. I'm right glad to see you--I declare to ----, I -am, Mr. Ashwoode," said that eminent barrister, when the young -gentleman had reached his side. "Indeed, I was thinking it was maybe -too late to see you to-night, and that things would have to go on. Oh, -dear me, but it's a regular Providence, so it is. You'd have been up in -lavender to-morrow, as sure as eggs is eggs. I'm gladder than a crown -piece, upon my soul, I am." - -"Don't talk of business here; cannot we have some place to ourselves -for five minutes, out of this stifling pig-sty. I can't bear the place; -besides, we shall be overheard," urged Ashwoode. - -"Well, and that's very true," assented Chancey, gently, "very true, so -it is; we'll get a small room above. You'll have to pay an extra -sixpenny bit for it though, but what signifies the matter of that? -M'Quirk, ask old Pottles if 'Noah's Ark' is empty--either that or the -'Royal Ram'--run, Bobby." - -"I have something else to do, Mr. Chancey," replied Mr. M'Quirk, with -_hauteur_. - -"Run, Bobby, run, man," repeated Chancey, tranquilly. - -"Run yourself," retorted M'Quirk, rebelliously. - -Chancey looked at him for a moment to ascertain by his visible aspect -whether he had actually uttered the audacious suggestion, and reading -in the red face of the little gentleman nothing but the most refractory -dispositions, he said with a low, dogged emphasis which experience had -long taught Mr. M'Quirk to respect,-- - -"Are you at your tricks again? D---- you, you blackguard, if you stand -prating there another minute, I'll open your head with this pot--be -off, you scoundrel." - -The learned counsel enforced his eloquence by knocking the pewter pot -with an emphatic clang upon the table. - -All the aristocratic blood of the M'Quirks mounted to the face of the -gentleman thus addressed; he suffered the noble inundation, however, to -subside, and after some hesitation, and one long look of unutterable -contempt, which Chancey bore with wonderful stoicism, he yielded to -prudential considerations, as he had often done before, and proceeded -to execute his orders. - -The effect was instantaneous--Pottles himself appeared. A short, stout, -asthmatic man was Pottles, bearing in his thoughtful countenance an -ennobling consciousness that human society would feel it hard to go on -without him, and carrying in his hand a soiled napkin, or rather clout, -with which he wiped everything that came in his way, his own forehead -and nose included. - -With pompous step and wheezy respiration did Pottles conduct his -honoured guests up the creaking stairs and into the "Royal Ram." He -raked the embers in the fire-place, threw on a piece of turf, and -planting the candle which he carried upon a table covered with slop and -pipe ashes, he wiped the candlestick, and then his own mouth carefully -with his dingy napkin, and asked the gentlemen whether they desired -anything for supper. - -"No, no, we want nothing but to be left to ourselves for ten or fifteen -minutes," said Ashwoode, placing a piece of money upon the table. "Take -this for the use of the room, and leave us." - -The landlord bowed and pocketed the coin, wheezed and bowed again, and -then waddled magnificently out of the room. Ashwoode got up and closed -the door after him, and then returning, drew his chair opposite to -Chancey's, and in a low tone asked,-- - -"Well, what is all this about?" - -"All about them notes, nothing else," replied Chancey, calmly. - -"Go on--what of them?" urged Ashwoode. - -"Can you pay them all to-morrow morning?" inquired Chancey, tranquilly. - -"To-morrow!" exclaimed Ashwoode. "Why, hell and death, man, you -promised to hold them over for three months. To-morrow! By ----, you -must be joking," and as he spoke his face turned pale as ashes. - -"I told you all along, Mr. Ashwoode," said Chancey drowsily, "that the -money was not my own; I'm nothing more than an agent in the matter, and -the notes are in the desk of that old bed-ridden cripple that lent it. -D----n him, he's as full of fumes and fancies as old cheese is of -maggots. He has taken it into his head that your paper is not safe, and -the devil himself won't beat it out of him; and the long and the short -of it is, Mr. Ashwoode, he's going to arrest you to-morrow." - -In vain Ashwoode strove to hide his agitation--he shook like a man in -an ague. - -"Good heavens! and is there no way of preventing this? Make him wait -for a week--for a day," said Ashwoode. - -"Was not I speaking to him ten times to-day--ay, twenty times," replied -Chancey, "trying to make him wait even for one day? Why, I'm hoarse -talking to him, and I might just as well be speaking to Patrick's -tower; so make your mind up to this. As sure as light, you'll be in -gaol before to-morrow's past, unless you either settle it early some -way or other, or take leg bail for it." - -"See, Chancey, I may as well tell you this," said Ashwoode, "before a -fortnight, perhaps before a week, I shall have the means of satisfying -these damned notes beyond the possibility of failure. Won't he hold -them over for so long?" - -"I might as well be asking him to cut out his tongue and give it to me -as to allow us even a day; he has heard of different accidents that has -happened to some of your paper lately--and the long and the short of it -is--he won't hear of it, nor hold them over one hour more than he can -help. I declare to ----, Mr. Ashwoode, I am very sorry for your -distress, so I am--but you say you'll have the money in a week?" - -"Ay, ay, ay, so I shall, _if_ he don't arrest me," replied Ashwoode; -"but if he does, my perdition's sealed; I shall lie in gaol till I rot; -but, curse it, can't the idiot see this?--if he waits a week or so -he'll get his money--every penny back again--but if he won't have -patience, he loses every sixpence to all eternity." - -"You might as well be arguing with an iron box as think to change that -old chap by talk, when he once gets a thing into his head," rejoined -Chancey. Ashwoode walked wildly up and down the dingy, squalid -apartment, exhibiting in his aristocratic form and face, and in the -rich and elegant suit, flashing even in the dim light of that solitary, -unsnuffed candle, with gold lace and jewelled buttons, and with cravat -and ruffles fluttering with rich point lace, a strange and startling -contrast to the slovenly and deserted scene of low debauchery which -surrounded him. - -"Chancey," said he, suddenly stopping and grasping the shoulder of the -sleepy barrister with a fierceness and energy which made him -start--"Chancey, rouse yourself, d---- you. Do you hear? Is there _no_ -way of averting this awful ruin--_is_ there none?" - -As he spoke, Ashwoode held the shoulder of the fellow with a gripe like -that of a vice, and stooping over him, glared in his face with the -aspect of a maniac. - -The lawyer, though by no means of a very excitable temperament, was -startled at the horrible expression which encountered his gaze, and -sate silently looking into his victim's face with a kind of -fascination. - -"Well," said Chancey, turning away his head with an effort--"there's -but one way I can think of." - -"What is it? Do you know anyone that _will_ take my note at a short -date? For God's sake, man, speak out at once, or my brain will turn. -What is it?" said Ashwoode. - -"Why, Mr. Ashwoode, to be plain with you," rejoined Chancey, "I do not -know a soul in Dublin that would discount for you to one-fourth of the -amount you require--but there is another way." - -"In the fiend's name, out with it, then," said Ashwoode, shaking him -fiercely by the shoulder. - -"Well, then, get Mr. Craven to join you in a bond for the amount," said -Chancey, "with a warrant of attorney to confess judgment." - -"Craven! Why, he knows as well as you do how I am dipped. He'd just as -readily thrust his hand into the fire," replied Ashwoode. "Is that your -hopeful scheme?" - -"Why, Mr. Craven might not do so well, after all," said Chancey, -meditatively, and without appearing to hear what the young baronet -said. "Oh! dear, dear, no, he would not do. Old Money-bags knows -him--no, no, that would not do." - -"Can your d----d scheming brain plot no invention to help me? In the -devil's name, where are your wits? Chancey, if you get me out of this -accursed fix, I'll make a man of you." - -"I got a whole lot of bills done for you once by the very same old -gentleman," continued Chancey, "and d----n heavy bills they were too, -but they had Mr. Nicholas Blarden's name across them; would not he lend -it again, if you told him how you stand? If you can come by the money -in a month or so, you may be sure he'll do it." - -"Better and better! Why, Blarden would ask no better fun than to see me -ruined, dead, and damned," rejoined Ashwoode, bitterly. "Cudgel your -brains for another bright thought." - -"Oh! dear me, dear me," said the barrister mildly, "I thought you were -the best of friends. Well, well, it's hard to know. But are you sure he -don't like you?" - -"It's odd if he does," said Ashwoode, "seeing it's scarce a month since -I trounced him almost to death in the theatre. Blarden, indeed!" - -"Well, Mr. Ashwoode, sit down here for a minute, and I'll say all I -have to say; and if you like it, well and good; and if not, there's no -harm done, and things must only take their course. Are you quite sure -of having the means within a month of taking up the notes?" - -"As sure as I am that I see you before me," replied he. - -"Well, then, get Mr. Blarden's name along with your own to your joint -and several bond--the old chap won't have anything more to do with -bills--so, do you mind, your joint and several bond, with warrant of -attorney to confess judgment--and I'll stake my life, he'll take it as -ready as so much cash, the instant I show it to him," said the lawyer -quietly. - -"Are you dreaming or drunk? Have not I told you twenty times over that -Blarden would cut his throat first?" retorted Ashwoode, passionately. - -"Why," said Chancey, fixing his cunning eyes, with a peculiar meaning, -upon the young man, and speaking with a lowered voice and marked -deliberateness, "perhaps if Mr. Blarden knew that his name was wanted -only to satisfy the whim of a fanciful old hunks--if he knew that -judgment should never be entered--if he knew that the bond should never -go outside a strong iron box, under an old bedridden cripple's bed--if -he knew that no questions should be asked as to how he came to write -his name at the foot of it--and if he knew that no mortal should ever -see it until you paid it long before the day it was due--and if he was -quite aware that the whole transaction should be considered so strictly -confidential, that even to _himself_--do you mind--no allusion should -be made to it;--don't you think, in such a case, you could, by some -means or other, manage to get his--_name_?" - -They continued to gaze fixedly at one another in silence, until, at -length, Ashwoode's countenance lighted into a strange, unearthly smile. - -"I see what you mean, Chancey--is it so?" said he, in a voice so low, -as scarcely to be audible. - -"Well, maybe you do," said the barrister, in a tone nearly as low, and -returning the young man's smile with one to the full as sinister. Thus -they remained without speaking for many minutes. - -"There's no danger in it," said Chancey, after a long pause; "I would -not take a part in it if there was. You can pay it eleven months before -it's due. It's a thing I have _known_ done a hundred times over, -without risk; here there _can_ be none. I do _all_ his business myself. -I tell you, that for anything that any living mortal but you and me and -the old badger himself will ever hear, or see, or know of the matter, -the bond might as well be burnt to dust in the back of the fire. I -declare to ---- it's the plain truth I'm telling you--Sir Henry--so it -is." - -There followed another silence of some minutes. At length Ashwoode -said, "I'd rather use any name but Blarden's, if it _must_ be done." - -"What does it matter whose name is on it, if there is no one but -ourselves to read it?" replied Chancey. "I say Blarden's is the best, -because he accepted bills for you before, which were discounted by the -same old codger; and again, because the old fellow knows that the money -was wanted to satisfy gambling debts, and Blarden would seem a very -natural party in a gaming transaction. Blarden's _is_ the name for us. -And, for myself, all I ask is fifty pounds for my share in the -trouble." - -"When must you have the bond?" asked Ashwoode. - -"Set about it _now_," said Chancey; "or stay, your hand shakes too -much, and for both our sakes it must be done neatly; so say to-morrow -morning, early. I'll see the old gentleman to-night, and have the -overdue notes to hand you in the morning. I think that's doing -business." - -"I would not do it--I'd rather blow my brains out--if there was a -single chance of his entering judgment on the bond, or talking of it," -said Ashwoode, in great agitation. - -"A _chance_!" said the barrister. "I tell you there's not a -_possibility_. I manage all his money matters, and I'd burn that bond, -before it should see the outside of his strong box. Why, d----n! do you -think I'd let myself be ruined for fifty pounds? You don't know Gordon -Chancey, indeed you don't, Mr. Ashwoode." - -"Well, Chancey, I'll see you early to-morrow morning," said Ashwoode; -"but are you very--_very_ sure--is there no chance--no _possibility_ -of--of mischief?" - -"I tell you, Mr. Ashwoode," replied Chancey, "unless I chose to betray -_myself_, you can't come by harm. As I told you before, I'm not such a -fool as to ruin myself. Rely on me, Mr. Ashwoode--rely on me. Do you -believe what I say?" - -Ashwoode walked slowly up to him, and fixing his eyes upon the -barrister, with a glance which made Chancey's heart turn chill within -him,-- - -"Yes, Mr. Chancey," he said, "you may be sure I believe you; for if I -did _not_--so help me, God!--you should not quit this room--alive." - -He eyed the caitiff for some minutes in silence, and then returning the -sword, which he had partially drawn, to its scabbard, he abruptly -wished him good-night, and left the room. - - - - -CHAPTER XXXV. - -OF THE COUSIN AND THE BLACK CABINET--AND OF HENRY ASHWOODE'S DECISIVE -INTERVIEW WITH LADY STUKELY. - - -"Well, then," said Ashwoode, a few days after the occurrences which -have just been faithfully recorded, "it behoves me without loss of time -to make provision for this infernal bond; until I see it burned to -dust, I feel as if I stood in the dock. This sha'n't last long--my -stars be thanked, one door of escape lies open to me, and through it I -will pass; the sun shall not go down upon my uncertainty. To be sure, I -shall be--but curse it, it can't be helped now; and let them laugh, and -quiz, and sneer as they please, two-thirds of them would be but too -glad to marry Lady Stukely with half her fortune, were she twice as old -and twice as ugly--if, indeed, either were possible. Pshaw! the laugh -will subside in a week, and in the style in which I shall open, curse -me, if half the world won't lie at my feet. Give me but -money--money--plenty of money, and though I be a paragon of absurdity -and vice, the whole town will vote me a Solomon and a saint; so let's -have no more shivering by the brink, but plunge boldly in at once and -have it over." - -Fortified with these reflections, Sir Henry Ashwoode vaulted lightly -into his saddle, and putting his horse into an easy canter, he found -himself speedily at Lady Stukely's house in Stephen's Green. His -servant held the rein and he dismounted, and, having obtained -admission, summoned all his resolution, lightly mounted the stairs, and -entered the handsome drawing-room. Lady Stukely was not there, but his -cousin, Emily Copland, received him. - -"Lady Betty is not visible, then?" inquired he, after a little chat -upon indifferent subjects. - -"I believe she is out shopping--indeed, you may be very certain she is -not at home," replied Emily, with a malicious smile; "her ladyship is -always visible to you. Now confess, have you ever had much cruelty or -coldness to complain of at dear Lady Stukely's hands?" - -Ashwoode laughed, and perhaps for a moment appeared a little -disconcerted. - -"I _do_ admit, then, as you insist on placing me in the confessional, -that I have always found Lady Betty as kind and polite as I could have -expected or hoped," rejoined Ashwoode, assuming a grave and -particularly proper air; "I were particularly ungrateful if I said -otherwise." - -"Oh, ho! so her ladyship has actually succeeded in inspiring my -platonic cousin with gratitude," continued Emily, in the same tone, -"and gratitude we all know is Cupid's best disguise. Alas, and -alack-a-day, to what vile uses may we come at last--alas, my poor coz." - -"Nay, nay, Emily," replied he, a little piqued, "you need not write my -epitaph yet; I don't see exactly why you should pity me so enormously." - -"Haven't you confessed that you glow with gratitude to Lady Stukely?" -rejoined she. - -"Nonsense! I said nothing about _glowing_; but what if I had?" answered -he. - -"Then you acknowledge that you _do_ glow! Heaven help him, the man -actually _glows_," ejaculated Emily. - -"Pshaw! stuff, nonsense. Emily, don't be a blockhead," said he, -impatiently. - -"Oh! Harry, Harry, Harry, don't deny it," continued she, shaking her -head with intense solemnity, and holding up her fingers in a monitory -manner--"you are then actually in love. Oh, Benedick, poor Benedick! -would thou hadst chosen some Beatrice not quite so well stricken in -years; but what of that?--the beauties of age, if less attractive to -the eye of thoughtless folly than those of youth, are unquestionably -more durable; time may rob the cheek of its bloom, but I defy him to -rob it of its rouge; years--I might say centuries--have no power to -blanche a wig or thin its flowing locks; and though the nymph be blind -with age, what matters it if the swain be blind with love? I make no -doubt you'll be fully as happy together as if she had twice as long to -live." - -Ashwoode poked the fire and blew his nose violently, but nevertheless -answered nothing. - -"The brilliant blush of her cheek and the raven blackness of her wig," -continued the incorrigible Emily, "in close and striking contrast, will -remind you, and I trust usefully, of that _rouge et noir_ which has -been your ruin all your days." - -Still Ashwoode spoke not. - -"The exquisite roundness of her ladyship's figure will remind you that -flesh, if not exactly grass, is at least very little better than bran -and buckram; and her smile will invariably suggest the great truth, -that whenever you do not intend to bite it is better not to show your -teeth, especially when they happen to be like her ladyship's; in short, -you cannot look at her without feeling that in every particular, if -rightly read, she supplied a moral lesson, so that in her presence -every unruly passion of man's nature must entirely subside and sink to -rest. Yes, she will make you happy--eminently happy; every little -attention, every caress, every fond glance she throws at you, will -delightfully assure your affectionate spirit, as it wanders in memory -back to the days of earliest childhood, that she will be to you all -that your beloved grandmother could have been, had she been spared. Oh! -Harry, Harry, this will indeed be too much happiness." - -Another pause ensued, and Emily approached Sir Henry as he stood -sulkily by the mantelpiece, and laying her hand upon his arm, looked -archly up into his face, while shaking her head she slowly said,-- - -"Oh! love, love--oh! Cupid, Cupid, mischievous little boy, what hast -thou done with my poor cousin's heart? - - "''Twas on a widow's jointure land - The archer, Cupid, took his stand.'" - -As she said this, she looked so unutterably mischievous and comical, -that in spite of his vexation and all his efforts to the contrary, he -burst into a long and hearty fit of laughter. - -"Emily," said he, at length, "you are absolutely incorrigible--gravity -in your company is entirely out of the question; but listen to me -seriously for one moment, if you can. I will tell you plainly how I am -circumstanced, and you must promise me in return that you will not quiz -me any more about the matter. But first," he added, cautiously, "let us -guard against eavesdroppers." - -He accordingly walked into the next room, which opened upon that in -which they were, and proceeded to close the far door. Before he had -reached it, however, that in the other room opened, and Lady Stukely -herself entered. The instant she appeared, Emily Copland by a gesture -enjoined silence, nodded towards the door of the next room, from which -Ashwoode's voice, as he carelessly hummed an air, was audible; she then -frowned, nodded, and pointed with vehement repetition toward a dark -recess in the wall, made darker and more secure by the flanking -projection of a huge, black, varnished cabinet. Lady Stukely looked -puzzled, took a step in the direction of the post of concealment -indicated by the girl, then looked puzzled, and hesitated again. More -impatiently Emily repeated her signal, and her ladyship, without any -distinct reason, but with her curiosity all alive, glided behind the -protecting cabinet, with all its army of china ornaments, into the -recess, and there remained entirely concealed. She had hardly effected -this movement, which the deep-piled carpet enabled her to do without -noise, when Ashwoode returned, closed the door of communication between -the two rooms, and then shut that through which Lady Stukely had just -entered, almost brushing against her as he did so, so close was their -proximity. These precautions taken, he returned. - -"Now," said he, in a low and deliberate tone, "the plain facts of the -case are just these. I am dipped over head and ears in debt--debts, -too, of the most urgent kind--debts which threaten me with ruin. Now, -these _must_ be paid--one way or another they _must_ be met. And to -effect this I have but one course--one expedient, and you have guessed -it. No man knows better than I what Lady Stukely is. I can see all that -is ridiculous and repulsive about her just as clearly as anybody else. -She is old enough to be my grandmother, and ugly enough to be the -devil's--and, moreover, painted and varnished over like a signboard. -She may be a fool--she may be a termagant--she may be what you -please--but--_but_ she has money. She has been throwing herself into my -arms this twelvemonth or more--and--but what the deuce is that?" - -This interrogatory was caused by certain choking sounds which proceeded -with fearful suddenness from the place of Lady Stukely's concealment, -and which were instantaneously followed by the appearance of her -ladyship in bodily presence. She opened her mouth, but gave utterance -to nothing but a gasp--drew herself up with such portentous and -swelling magnificence, that Ashwoode almost expected to see her expand -like the spectre of a magic-lantern until her head touched the ceiling. -Forward she came, in her progress sweeping a score of china ornaments -from the cabinet, and strewing the whole floor with the crashing -fragments of monkeys, monsters, and mandarins, breathless, choking, and -almost black with rage, Lady Stukely advanced to Ashwoode, who stood, -for the first time in his life, bereft of every vestige of -self-possession. - -"Painted! varnished!" she screamed hysterically, "ridiculous! -repulsive! Oh, heaven and earth! you--you preternatural monster!" With -these words she uttered two piercing shrieks, and threw herself in -strong hysterics into a chair, holding on her wig distractedly with one -hand, for fear of accidents. - - [Illustration: "'Painted! Varnished!' she screamed, hysterically." - _To face page 188._] - -"Don't--don't ring the bell," said she, with an abrupt accession of -fortitude, observing Emily Copland approach the bell. "Don't, I shall -be better presently." And then, with another shriek, she opened afresh. - -As the hysterics subsided, Ashwoode began a little to recover his -scattered wits, and observing that Lady Stukely had sunk back in -extreme languor and exhaustion, with closed eyes, he ventured to -approach the shrine of his outraged divinity. - -"I feel--indeed I own, Lady Stukely," he said, hesitatingly, "I have -much to explain. I ought to explain--yes, I ought. I will, Lady -Stukely--and--and I can entirely satisfy--completely dispel----" - -He was interrupted here; for Lady Stukely, starting bolt upright in the -chair, exclaimed,-- - -"You wretch! you villain! you perjured, scheming, designing, lying, -paltry, stupid, insignificant, outrageous----" - -Whether it was that her ladyship wanted words to supply a climax, or -that hysterics are usually attended with such results, we cannot -pretend to say, but certain it is that at this precise point the -languishing, fashionable, die-away Lady Stukely actually spat in the -young baronet's face. - -Ashwoode changed colour, as he promptly discharged the ridiculous but -very necessary task of wiping his face. With difficulty he restrained -himself under this provocation, but he did command himself so far as to -say nothing. He turned on his heel and walked downstairs, muttering as -he went,-- - -"An old painted devil!" - -The cool air, as he passed out, speedily dissipated the confusion and -excitement of the scene that had just passed, and all the consequences -of his rupture with Lady Stukely rushed upon his mind with overwhelming -and maddening force. - -"You were right, perfectly right--he _is_ a cheat--a trickster--a -villain!" exclaimed Lady Stukely. "Only to think of him! Oh, heaven and -earth!" And again she was seized with violent hysterics, in which state -she was conducted up to her bedroom by Emily Copland, who had enjoyed -the catastrophe with an intensity of relish which none but a female, -and a mischievous one to boot, can know. - -Loud and repeated were Lady Stukely's thanksgivings for having escaped -the snares of the designing young baronet, and warm and multiplied and -grateful her acknowledgments to Emily Copland--to whom, however, from -that time forth she cherished an intense dislike. - - - - -CHAPTER XXXVI. - -OF JEWELS, PLATE, HORSES, DOGS, AND FAMILY PICTURES--AND CONCERNING THE -APPOINTED HOUR. - - -In a state little, if at all, short of distraction, Sir Henry Ashwoode -threw himself from his horse at Morley Court. That resource which he -had calculated upon with absolute certainty had totally failed him; his -last stake had been played and lost, and ruin in its most hideous -aspect stared him in the face. - -Spattered from heel to head with mud--for he had ridden at a reckless -speed--with a face pale as that of a corpse, and his dress all -disordered, he entered the great old parlour, and scarcely knowing what -he did, dashed the door to with violence and bolted it. His brain swam -so that the floor seemed to heave and rock like a sea; he cast his -laced hat and his splendid peruke (the envy and admiration of half the -_petit maîtres_ in Dublin) upon the ground, and stood in the centre of -the room, with his hands clutched upon the temples of his bare, shorn -head, and his teeth set, the breathing image of despair. From this -state he was roused by some one endeavouring to open the door. - -"Who's there?" he shouted, springing backward and drawing his sword, as -if he expected a troop of constables to burst in. - -Whoever the party may have been, the attempt was not repeated. - -"What's the matter with me--am I mad?" said Ashwoode, after a terrible -pause, and hurling his sword to the far end of the room. "Lie there. -I've let the moment pass--I might have done it--cut the Gordian knot, -and there an end of all. What brought me here?" - -He stared about the room, for the first time conscious where he stood. - -"Damn these pictures," he muttered; "they're all alive--everything -moves towards me." He flung himself into a chair and clasped his -fingers over his eyes. "I can't breathe--the place is suffocating. Oh, -God! I shall go mad!" He threw open one of the windows and stood -gasping at it as if he stood at the mouth of a furnace. - -"Everything is hot and strange and maddening--I can't endure -this--brain and heart are bursting--it is HELL." - -In a state of excitement which nearly amounted to downright insanity, -he stood at the open window. It was long before this extravagant -agitation subsided so as to allow room for thought or remembrance. At -length he closed the window, and began to pace the room from end to end -with long and heavy steps. He stopped by a pier-table, on which stood a -china bowl full of flowers, and plunging his hands into it, dashed the -water over his head and face. - -"Let me think--let me think," said he. "I was not wont to be thus -overcome by reverse. Surely I can master as much as will pay that -thrice-accursed bond, if I could but collect my thoughts--there must -yet be the means of meeting it. Let _that_ be but paid, and then, -welcome ruin in any other shape. Let me see. Ay, the furniture; then -the pictures--some of them valuable--_very_ valuable; then the horses -and the dogs; and then--ay, the plate. Why, to be sure--what have I -been dreaming of?--the plate will go half-way to satisfy it; and -then--what else? Let me see. The whole thing is six thousand four -hundred and fifty pounds--what more? Is there _nothing_ more to meet -it? The plate--the furniture--the pictures--ay, idiot that I am, why -did I not think of them an hour since?--my sister's jewels--why, it's -all settled--how the devil came it that I never thought of them before? -It's very well, however, as it is--for if I had, they would have gone -long ago. Come, come, I breathe again--I have gotten my neck out of the -hemp, at all events. I'll send in for Craven this moment. He likes a -bargain, and he shall have one--before to-morrow's sun goes down, that -d----d bond shall be ashes. Mary's jewels are valued at two thousand -pounds. Well, let him take them at one thousand five hundred; and the -pictures, plate, furniture, dogs, and horses for the rest--and he has a -bargain. These jewels have saved me--bribed the hangman. What care I -how or when I die, if I but avert that. Ten to one I blow my brains out -before another month. A short life and a merry one was ever the motto -of the Ashwoodes; and as the mirth is pretty well over with me, I begin -to think it time to retire. _Satis edisti, satis bipisti, satis -lusisti, tempus est tibi abire_--what am I raving about? There's -business to be done now--to it, then--to it like a man--while we _are_ -alive let us _be_ alive." - -Craven liked his bargain, and engaged that the money should be duly -handed at noon next day to Sir Henry Ashwoode, who forthwith bade the -worthy attorney good-night, and wrote the following brief note to -Gordon Chancey, Esq.:-- - - "SIR, - - "I shall call upon you to-morrow at one of the clock, if the hour - suit you, upon particular business, and shall be much obliged by - your having a _certain security_ by you, which I shall then be - prepared to redeem. - - "I remain, sir, your very obedient servant, - - "HENRY ASHWOODE." - -"So," said Sir Henry, with a half shudder, as he folded and sealed this -missive, "I shall, at all events, escape the halter. To-morrow night, -spite of wreck and ruin, I shall sleep soundly. God knows, I want rest. -Since I wrote that name, and gave that accursed bond out of my hands, -my whole existence, waking and sleeping, has been but one abhorred and -ghastly nightmare. I would gladly give a limb to have that d----d scrap -of parchment in my hand this moment; but patience, patience--one night -more--one night only--of fevered agony and hideous dreams--one last -night--and then--once more I am my own master--my character and safety -are again in my own hands--and may I die the death, if ever I risk them -again as I have done--one night more--would--_would_ to God it were -morning!" - - - - -CHAPTER XXXVII. - -THE RECKONING--CHANCEY'S LARGE CAT--AND THE COACH. - - -The morning arrived, and at the appointed hour Sir Henry Ashwoode -dismounted in Whitefriar Street, and gave the bridle of his horse to -the groom who accompanied him. - -"Well," thought he, as he entered the dingy, dilapidated square in -which Chancey's lodgings were situated, "this matter, at all events, is -arranged--I sha'n't hang, though I'm half inclined to allow I deserve -to do so for my infernal folly in trying the thing at all; but no -matter, it has given me a lesson I sha'n't soon forget. As to the rest, -what care I now? Let ruin pounce upon me in any shape but that--luckily -I have still enough to keep body and soul together left." - -He paused to indulge in ruminations of no very pleasant kind, and then -half muttered,-- - -"I have been a fool--I have walked in a dream. Only to think of a man -like me, who has seen something of the world, allowing that d----d hag -to play him such a trick. Well, I believe it _is_ true, after all, that -we cannot have wisdom without paying for it. If my acquisitions bear -any proportion to my outlay, I ought to be a Solomon by this time." - -The door was opened to his summons by Gordon Chancey himself. When -Ashwoode entered, Chancey carefully locked the door on the inside and -placed the key in his pocket. - -"It's as well, Sir Henry, to be on the safe side," observed Chancey, -shuffling towards the table. "Dear me, dear me, there's no such thing -as being too careful--is there, Sir Henry?" - -"Well, well, well, let's to business," said young Ashwoode, hurriedly, -seating himself at the end of a heavy deal table, at which was a chair, -and taking from his pocket a large leathern pocket-book. "You have -the--the security here?" - -"Of course--oh, dear, of course," replied the barrister; "the bond and -warrant of attorney--that d----d forgery--it is in the next room, very -safe--oh, dear me, yes indeed." - -It struck Ashwoode that there was something, he could not exactly say -what, unusual and sinister in the manner of Mr. Chancey, as well as in -his emphasis and language, and he fixed his eye upon him for a moment -with a searching glance. The barrister, however, busied himself with -tumbling over some papers in a drawer. - -"Well, why don't you get it?" asked Ashwoode, impatiently. - -"Never mind, never mind," replied Chancey; "do _you_ reckon your money -over, and be very sure the bond will come time enough. I don't wonder, -though, you're eager to have it fast in your own hands again--but it -will come--it will come." - -Ashwoode proceeded to open the pocket-book and to turn over the notes. - -"They're all right," said he, "they're all right. But, hush!" he added, -slightly changing colour--"I hear something stirring in the next room." - -"Oh, dear, dear, it's nothing but the cat," rejoined Chancey, with an -ugly laugh. - -"Your cat treads very heavily," said Ashwoode, suspiciously. - -"So it does," rejoined Chancey, "it does tread heavy; it's a very large -cat, so it is; it has wonderful great claws; it can see in the dark; -it's a great cat; it never missed a rat yet; and I've seen it lure the -bird off a branch with the mere power of its eye; it's a great cat--but -reckon your money, and I'll go in for the bond." - -This strange speech was uttered in a manner at least as strange, and -Chancey, without waiting for commentary or interruption, passed into -the next room. The step crossed the adjoining chamber, and Ashwoode -heard the rustling of papers; it then returned, the door opened, and -_not_ Gordon Chancey, but Nicholas Blarden entered the room and -confronted Sir Henry Ashwoode. Personal fear in bodily conflict was a -thing unknown to the young baronet, but now all courage, all strength -forsook him, and he stood gazing in vacant horror upon that, to him, -most tremendous apparition, with a face white as ashes, and covered -with the starting dews of terror. - -With that hideous combination, a smile and a scowl, stamped upon his -coarse features, the wretch stood with folded arms, in an attitude of -indescribable exultation, gazing with savage, gloating eyes full upon -his appalled and terror-stricken victim. Fixed as statues they both -remained for several minutes. - -"Ho, ho, ho! you look frightened, young man," exclaimed Blarden, with a -horse laugh; "you look as if you were going to be hanged--you look as -if the hemp were round your neck--you look as if the hangman had you by -the collar, you do--ho, ho, ho!" - -Ashwoode's bloodless lips moved, but utterance was gone. - -"It's hard to get the words out," continued Blarden, with ferocious -glee. "I never knew the man yet could do a last dying speech smooth--a -sort of choking comes on, eh?--the sight of the minister and the -hangman makes a man feel so quare, eh?--and the coffin looks so ugly, -and all the crowd; it's confusing somehow, and puts a man out, eh?--ho, -ho, ho!" - -Ashwoode laid his hand upon his forehead, and gazed on in blank horror. - -"Why, you're not such a great man, by half, as you were in the -play-house the other evening," continued Blarden; "you don't look so -grand, by any manner of means. Some way or other, you look a little -sickish or so. I'm afraid you don't like my company--ho, ho, ho!" - -Still Sir Henry remained locked in the same stupefied silence. - -"Ho, ho! you seem to think your hemp is twisted, and your boards -sawed," resumed Blarden; "you seem to think you're in a fix at -last--and so do I, by ----!" he thundered, "for _I_ have the rope -fairly round your weasand, and, by ---- I'll make you dance upon -nothing, at Gallows Hill, before you're a month older. Do you hear -_that_--do you--you swindler? Eh--you gaol-bird, you common forger, you -robber, you crows' meat--who holds the winning cards now?" - -"Where--where's the bond?" said Ashwoode, scarce audibly. - -"Where's your precious bond, you forger, you gibbet-carrion?" shouted -Blarden, exultingly. "Where's your forged bond--the bond that will -crack your neck for you--where is it, eh? Why, here--here in my -breeches pocket--_that's_ where it is. I hope you think it safe -enough--eh, you gallows-tassle?" - -Yielding to some confused instinctive prompting to recover the fatal -instrument, Ashwoode drew his sword, and would have rushed upon his -brutal and triumphant persecutor; but Blarden was not unprepared even -for this. With the quickness of light, he snatched a pistol from his -coat pocket, recoiling, as he did so, a hurried pace or two, and while -he turned, coward as he was, pale and livid as death, he levelled it at -the young man's breast, and both stood for an instant motionless, in -the attitudes of deadly antagonism. - -"Put up your sword; I have you there, as well as everywhere -else--regularly checkmated, by ----!" shouted Blarden, with the -ferocity of half-desperate cowardice. "Put up your sword, I say, and -don't be a bloody idiot, along with everything else. Don't you see -you're done for?--there's not a chance left you. You're in the cage, -and there's no need to knock yourself to pieces against the -bars--you're done for, I tell you." - -With a mute but expressive gesture of despair, Ashwoode grasped his -sword by the slender, glittering blade, and broke it across. The -fragments dropped from his hands, and he sunk almost lifeless into a -chair--a spectacle so ghastly, that Blarden for a moment thought that -death was about to rescue his victim. - -"Chancey, come out here," exclaimed Blarden; "the fellow has taken the -staggers--come out, will you?" - -"Oh! dear me, dear me," said Chancey, in his own quiet way, "but he -looks very bad." - -"Go over and shake him," said Blarden, still holding the pistol in his -hand. "What are you afraid of? He can't hurt you--he has broken his -bilbo across--the symbol of gentility. By ----! he's a good deal down -in the mouth." - -While they thus debated, Ashwoode rose up, looking more like a corpse -endowed with motion than a living man. - -"Take me away at once," said he, with a sullen wildness--"take me away -to gaol, or where you will--anywhere were better than this place. Take -me away; I am ruined--blasted. Make the most of it--your infernal -scheme has succeeded--take me to prison." - -"Oh, murder! he wants to go to gaol--do you hear him, Chancey?" cried -Blarden--"such an elegant, fine gentleman to think of such a thing: -only to think of a baronet in gaol--and for forgery, too--and the -condemned cell such an ungentlemanly sort of a hole. Why, you'd have to -use perfumes to no end, to make the place fit for the reception of your -aristocratic visitors--my Lord this, and my Lady that--for, of course, -you'll keep none but the best of company--ho, ho, ho! Perhaps the judge -that's to try you may turn out to be an old acquaintance, for your luck -is surprising--isn't it, Chancey?--and he'll pay you a fine compliment, -and express his regret when he's going to pass sentence, eh?--ho, ho, -ho! But, after all, I'd advise you, if the condescension is not too -much to expect from such a very fine gentleman as you, to consort as -much as possible with the turnkey--he's the most useful friend you can -make, under your peculiarly delicate circumstances--ho, ho!--eh? It's -just possible he mayn't like to associate with you, for some of them -fellows are rather stiff, d'ye see, and won't keep company with certain -classes of the coves in quod, such as forgers or pickpockets; but if -he'll allow it, you'd better get intimate with him--ho, ho, ho!--eh?" - -"Take me to the prison, sir," said Ashwoode, sternly--"I suppose you -mean to do so. Let your officers remove me at once--you have, no doubt, -men for the purpose in the next room. Let them call a coach, and I will -go with them--but let it be at once." - -"Well, you're not far out there, by ----!" replied Blarden. "I _have_ a -broad-shouldered acquaintance or two, and a little bit of a -warrant--you understand?--in the next apartment. Grimes, Grimes, come -in here--you're wanted." - -A huge, ill-looking fellow, with his coat buttoned up to his chin, and -a short pipe protruding from the corner of his mouth, swaggered into -the chamber, with that peculiar gait which seems as if contracted by -habitually shouldering and jostling through mobs and all manner of -riotous assemblies. - -"_That's_ the bird?" said the fellow, interrogatively, and pointing -with his pipe carelessly at Ashwoode. "You're my prisoner," he added, -gruffly addressing the unfortunate young man, and at the same time -planting his ponderous hand heavily upon his shoulder, he in the other -exhibited a crumpled warrant. - -"Grimes, go call a coach," said Blarden, "and don't be a brace of -shakes about it, do you mind." - -Grimes departed, and Blarden, after a long pause, suddenly addressing -himself to Ashwoode, resumed, in a somewhat altered tone, but with -intenser sternness still,-- - -"Now, I tell you what it is, my young cove, I have a sort of half a -notion not to send you to gaol at all, do you hear?" - -"Pshaw, pshaw!" said Ashwoode, turning bitterly away. - -"I tell you I'm speaking what I mean," rejoined Blarden; "I'll not send -you there _now_ at any rate. I want to have a bit of chat with you this -evening, and it shall rest with you whether you go there at all or not; -I'll give you the choice fairly. We'll meet, then, at Morley Court this -evening, at eight o'clock; and for fear of accidents in the meantime, -you'll have no objection to our mutual friend, Mr. Chancey, and our -common acquaintance, Mr. Grimes, accompanying you home in the coach, -and just keeping an eye on you till I come, for fear you might be out -walking when I call--you understand me? But here's Grimes. Mr. Grimes, -my particular friend Sir Henry Ashwoode has taken an extraordinary -remarkable fancy to you, and wishes to know whether you'll do him the -favour to take a jaunt with him in a carriage to see his house at -Morley Court, and to spend the day with him and Mr. Chancey, for he -finds that his health requires him to keep at home, and he has a -particular objection to be left alone, even for a minute. Sir Henry, -the coach is at the door. You'd better bundle up your bank-notes, they -may be useful to you. Chancey, tell Sir Henry's groom, as you pass, -that he'll not want his horse any more to-day." - -The party went out; Sir Henry, pale as death, and scarcely able to -support himself on his limbs, walking between Chancey and the herculean -constable. Blarden saw them safely shut up in the vehicle, and giving -the coachman his orders, gazed after them as they drove away in the -direction of Morley Court, with a flushed face and a bounding heart. - - - - -CHAPTER XXXVIII. - -STRANGE GUESTS AT THE MANOR. - - -The coach jingled, jolted, and rumbled on, and Ashwoode lay back in the -crazy conveyance in a kind of stupefied apathy. The scene which had -just closed was, in his mind, a chaos of horrible confusion--a hideous, -stunning dream, whose incidents, as they floated through his passive -memory, seemed like unreal and terrific exaggerations, into whose -reality he wanted energy and power to inquire. Still before him sate a -breathing evidence of the truth of all these confused and horrible -recollections--the stalwart, ruffianly figure of the constable--with -his great red horny hands, and greasy cuffs, and the heavy coat -buttoned up to his unshorn chin--and the short, discoloured pipe, -protruding from the corner of his mouth--lounging back with half-closed -eyes, and the air of a man who had passed the night in wearisome vigils -among strife and riot, and who has acquired the compensating power of -dividing his faculties at all times pretty nearly between sleep and -waking--a kind of sottish, semi-existence--something between that of a -swine and a sloth. Over this figure the eyes of the young man vacantly -wandered, and thence to the cheerful fields and trees visible from the -window, and back again to the burly constable, until every seam and -button in his coat grew familiar to his mind as the oldest tenants of -his memory. Beside him, too, sate Chancey--his artful, cowardly -betrayer. Yet even against him he could not feel anger; all energy of -thought and feeling seemed lost to him; and nothing but a dull -ambiguous incredulity and a scared stupor were there in their stead. -On--on they rolled and rumbled, among pleasant fields and stately -hedge-rows, toward the ancestral dwelling of the miserable prisoner, -who sate like a lifeless effigy, yielding passively to every jolt and -movement of the carriage. - -"I say, Grimes, were you ever out here before?" inquired Mr. Chancey. -"We'll soon be in the manor, driving up to Morley Court. It's a fine -place, I'm given to understand. I never was here but once before, long -as I know Sir Henry; but better late than never. Do you know this -place, Mr. Grimes?" - -A negative grunt and a short nod relieved Mr. Grimes from the painful -necessity of removing his pipe for the purpose of uttering an -articulate answer. - -"Oh, dear me, dear me," resumed Mr. Chancey, "but I'm uncommon hungry -and dry. I wish to God we were safe and sound in Sir Henry's house. -Grimes, are _you_ dry?" - -Mr. Grimes removed his pipe, and spat upon the coach floor. - -"Am I dhry?" said he. "About as dhry as a sprat in a tindher-box, -that's all. Is there much more to go?" - -Chancey stretched his head out of the coach window. - -"I see the old piers of the avenue," said he; "and God knows but it's I -that's glad we're near our journey's end. Now we're passing in--we're -in the avenue." - -Mr. Grimes hereupon uttered a grunt of approbation; and pressing down -the ashes of his pipe with his thumb, he deposited that instrument in -his waistcoat pocket--whence, at the same time, he drew a small plug of -tobacco, which he inserted in his mouth, and rolled it about with his -tongue from time to time during the remainder of their progress. - -"Sir Henry, we're arrived," said Chancey, admonishing the baronet with -his elbow--"we're at the hall-door at Morley Court. Sir Henry--dear me, -dear me, he's very abstracted, so he is. I say, Sir Henry, we're at -Morley Court." - -Ashwoode looked vacantly in Chancey's face, and then upon the stately -door of the old house, and suddenly recollecting himself, he said with -strange alacrity,-- - -"Ay, ay--at Morley Court--so we are. Come, then, gentlemen, let us get -down." - -Accordingly the three companions descended from the conveyance, and -entered the ancient dwelling-house together. - -"Follow me, gentlemen," said Ashwoode, leading the way to a small, -oak-wainscoted parlour. "You shall have refreshments immediately." - -He called the servant to the door, and continued addressing himself to -Chancey, and his no less refined companion. - -"Order what you please, gentlemen--I can't think of these things just -now; and, sirrah, do you hear me, bring a large vessel of water--my -throat is literally scorched." - -"Well, Mr. Chancey, what do you say?" said Grimes. "I'm for a couple of -bottles of sack, and a good pitcher of ale, to begin with, in the way -of liquor." - -"Well, it wouldn't be that bad," said Chancey. "What meat have you on -the spit, my good man?" - -"I don't exactly know, sir," replied the wondering domestic; "but I'll -inquire." - -"And see, my good man," continued Chancey, "ask them whether there -isn't some cold roast beef in the buttery; and if so, bring it up in a -jiffy, for, I declare to G--d I'm uncommon hungry; and let the cook -send up a hot joint directly;--and do you mind, my honest man, light a -bit of a fire here, for it's rather chill, and put plenty of dry -sticks----" - -"Give us the ale and the sack this instant minute, do you see," said -Mr. Grimes. "You may do the rest after." - -"Yes, you may as well," resumed Chancey; "for indeed I'm lost with the -drooth myself." - -"Cut your stick, saucepan," said Mr. Grimes, authoritatively; and the -servant departed in unfeigned astonishment to execute his various -commissions. - -Ashwoode threw himself into a seat, and in silence endeavoured to -collect his thoughts. Faint, sick, and stunned, he nevertheless began -gradually to comprehend every particular of his position more and more -fully--until at length all the ghastly truth stood revealed to his -mind's eye in vivid and glaring distinctness. While Ashwoode was -engaged in his agreeable ruminations, Mr. Chancey and Mr. Grimes were -busily employed in discussing the substantial fare which his larder had -supplied, and pledging one another in copious libations of generous -liquor. - - - - -CHAPTER XXXIX. - -THE BARGAIN, AND THE NEW CONFEDERATES. - - -At length the evening came--darkness closed over the old place, and as -the appointed hour approached, Ashwoode became more and more excited. - -"I must," thought he, "keep every faculty intensely on the stretch, to -detect, if possible, the nature of their schemes. Blarden and Chancey -have unquestionably hatched some other d----d plot, though what worse -can befall me? _I_ am netted as completely as their worst malice can -desire. It is now seven o'clock. Another hour will determine all my -doubts. Hark you, sirrah!" continued he, raising his voice, and -addressing a servant who had entered the chamber, "I expect a gentleman -upon particular business at eight o'clock. On his arrival conduct him -directly to this room." - -He then relapsed into the same train of gloomy and agitated thought. - -Chancey and his burly companion both sat snugly before the fire smoking -their pipes in silent enjoyment, while their miserable host paced the -room from wall to wall in mental torments indescribable. - -At length the weary interval expired, and within a few minutes of the -appointed hour, Nicholas Blarden was admitted by the servant, and -ushered into the chamber in which Ashwoode expected his arrival. - -"Well, Sir Henry," exclaimed Blarden, as he swaggered into the room, -"you seem a little flustered still--eh? Hope you found your company -pleasant. My friends' society is considered uncommon agreeable." - -The visitor here threw himself into a chair, and continued-- - -"By the holy Saint Paul, as I rode up your cursed old dusky avenue, I -began to think the chances were ten to one you had brought your throat -and a razor acquainted before this. I have known men do it under your -circumstances--of course I mean _gentlemen_, with fine friends and -delicate habits, and who could not stand exposure and all that kind of -thing. I say, Mr. Grimes, my sweet fellow, you may leave the room, but -keep within call, do ye mind. Mr. Chancey and I want to have a little -confidential conversation with my friend, Sir Henry. Bundle out, and -the moment you hear me call your name, bolt in again like a shot." - -Mr. Grimes, without answering, rose and lounged out of the room. - -"Chancey, shut that door," continued Blarden. "Shut it tight, as tight -as a drum. There, to your seat again. _Now_ then, Sir Henry, we may as -well to business; but first of all, sit down. I have no objection to -your sitting. Don't be shy." - -Sir Henry Ashwoode _did_ seat himself, and the three members of this -secret council drew their chairs around the table, each with very -different feelings. - -"I take it for granted," said Blarden, planting his elbow upon the -table, and supporting his chin upon his hand, while he fixed his -baleful eyes upon the young man, "I take it for granted, and as a -matter of course, that you have been puzzling your brains all day to -come at the reason why I allow you to be sitting in this house, instead -of clapping your four bones under lock and key, in another place." - -He paused here, as if to allow his exordium to impress itself upon the -memory of his auditory, and then resumed,-- - -"And I take it for granted, moreover, that you are not quite fool -enough to imagine that I care one blast if you were strung up by the -hangman, and carved by the doctors, to-morrow--eh?" - -He paused again. - -"Well, then, it's possible you think I have some end of my own to -serve, by letting the matter stand over this way. And so I _have_, by -----. You think right, if you never thought right before. I _have_ an -object in view, and it lies with you whether it's gained or lost. Do -you mind?" - -"Go on--go on--go on," repeated Ashwoode, gloomily. - -"What a devil of a hurry you're in," observed Blarden, with a scornful -chuckle. "But don't tear yourself; you'll have it all time enough. Now -I'm going to do great things for you--do you mind me? I'm going, in the -first place, to give you your life and your character--such as it is; -and, what's more, I'll not let you go to jail for debt neither. I'll -not let you be ruined; for Nickey Blarden was never the man to do -things by halves. Do you hear all I'm saying?" - -"Yes, yes," said Ashwoode, faintly; "but the condition--come to -that--the condition." - -"Well, I _will_ come to that. I will tell you the terms," rejoined -Blarden. "I suppose you need not be told that I am worth a good penny, -no matter how much. At any rate I'm _rich_--that much you _do_ know. -Well, perhaps you'll think it odd that I have not taken up a little to -live more quiet and orderly; in short, that I have not sown my wild -oats, and settled down, and all that, and become what they call an -ornament to society--eh? You, perhaps, wonder how it comes I have not -taken a rib--why I have not got married--eh? Well, I think myself it -_is_ a wonder, especially for such an admirer of the sex as I am, and I -think it's a pity besides, and so I've made up my mind to mend the -matter, do you see, and to take a wife without loss of time. She must -have family, for I want that, and she must have beauty, for I would not -marry the queen without it--family and beauty. I don't ask money; I -have more of my own than I well know what to do with. Family and beauty -is what I require. And I have settled the thing in my own mind, that -the very article I want, just the thing to a nicety, is your -sister--little, bright-eyed Mary--sporting Molly. I wish to marry her, -and her I'll _have_--and that's the long and the short of the whole -business." - -"You--_you_ marry my sister," exclaimed Ashwoode, returning the -fellow's insolent gaze with a look of indescribable scorn and -astonishment. - -"Yes--I--I myself--I, Nicholas Blarden, with more gold than a man could -count in three lives," shouted Blarden, returning his gaze with a scowl -of defiance--"_I_ condescend to marry the sister of a ruined, beggared -profligate--a common _forger_, who has one foot in the dock at this -minute. Down upon your marrow-bones, and thank me for my -condescension--down, I say." - -Overwhelmed with indignation and disgust, Ashwoode could not answer. -All his self-command was required to resist his vehement internal -impulse to strike the fellow to the ground and trample upon him. This -strong emotion, however, had its spring in no generous source. No -thought or care for Mary's feelings or fate crossed his mind; but only -the sense of insulted pride, for even in the midst of all his misery -and abasement, his hereditary pride of birth survived: that this low, -this entirely blasted, this branded ruffian should dare to propose to -ally himself with the Ashwoodes of Morley Court--a family whose blood -was as pure as centuries of aristocratic transmission, and repeated -commixture with that of nobility, could make it--a family who stood, in -consideration and respect, one of the very highest of the country! -Could flesh and blood endure it? - -"Make your mind up at once--I have no time to spare; and just remember -that the locality of your night's lodging depends upon your decision," -said Blarden, coolly, looking at his watch. "If, unfortunately for -yourself, you should resolve against the connection, then you must have -the goodness to accompany us into town to-night, and the law takes its -course quietly with you, and your neck-bone must only reconcile itself -to an ugly bit of a twist. If otherwise, you're a made man. Run the -matter fairly over in your mind, and see which of us two should desire -the thing most. As for me, I tell you plainly, it's a bit of a -fancy--no more--and may pass off in a day or two, for I don't pretend -to be extraordinarily steady in love affairs, and always had rather a -roving eye; and if I _should_ happen to cool, by ----, you'll be in a -nice hobble. So I think you had best take the ball at the hop--do you -mind--and make no mouths at your good fortune." - -Blarden paused, and looked at his huge chased-gold watch again, and -laid it on the table, as if to measure Ashwoode's deliberation by the -minute. Meanwhile the young baronet had ample time to recollect the -desperate pressure of his circumstances, which outraged pride had for a -moment half obliterated from his mind, and the process of remembrance -was in no small degree assisted by the heavy tread of the constable, -distinctly audible from the hall. - -"Blarden," said Ashwoode, in a voice low and husky with agitation, -"she'll never consent--you can't expect it: she'll never marry you." - -"I'm not talking of the girl's consent just now," replied Blarden: "I'm -asking only for _yours_ in the first place. Am I to understand that -you're agreed?" - -"Yes," replied Ashwoode, sullenly; "what is there left to me, but to -agree?" - -"Then leave me alone to gain _her_ consent," retorted Blarden, with a -brutal smile. "I have a bit of a winning way with me--a knack of my -own--for coming round a girl; and if she don't yield to that, why we -must only try another course. When love is wanting, _obedience_ is the -next best thing: although we can't charm her, she's no girl if we can't -frighten her--eh?" - -Ashwoode was silent. - -"Now mind, I require your active co-operation," continued Blarden; -"there's to be no shamming. I'm no greenhorn, and know a loaded die -from a fair one. It's not safe to try hocus pocus with me, and if I -don't get the girl, of course you're no brother of mine, and must not -expect me to forget the old score that's between us. Do you understand -me? Unless you bring this marriage about, you must only take the -consequences, and I promise you they'll be of the very ugliest possible -description." - -"Agreed, agreed; talk no more of it just now," said Ashwoode, -vehemently--"we understand one another. Tomorrow we may talk of it -again; meanwhile torment me no more!" - -"Well, I have said my say," rejoined Blarden, "and have nothing more to -do but to inform you, that I intend passing the night here, and, in -short, to make a visit of a week or so, for it's right the young lady -should have an opportunity of knowing my geography before she marries -me; and besides, I have heard a great account of old Sir Richard's -cellar. Chancey, do you tell my servant to bring my things up to the -room that Sir Henry will point out. Sir Henry, you'll see about my -room--have a bit of fire in it--see to it yourself, mind; for do you -mind, between ourselves, I think it's on the whole your better course -to be uncommonly civil to me. Stir yourselves, gentlemen. And, Chancey, -hand Grimes his fee, and let him be off. We'll try a jug of your -claret, Sir Henry, and a spatchcock, or some little thing of the kind, -and then to our virtuous beds--eh?" - -After a carousal protracted to nearly three hours, during which Nickey -Blarden treated his two companions to sundry ballads, and other vocal -efforts somewhat more boisterous than elegant, and supplying frequent -allusion, and not of the most delicate kind, to his contemplated change -of condition, that interesting person proceeded somewhat unsteadily -upstairs to his bed-chamber. With a suspicion, which even his tipsiness -could not overcome, he jealously bolted the door upon the inside, and -laid his sword and pistols upon the table by his bed, remembering that -it was just possible that his entertainer might conceive an expeditious -project for relieving himself of all his troubles, or at least the -greater part of them. These pleasant precautions taken, Mr. Blarden -undressed himself with all celerity and threw himself into bed. - -This gentleman's opinion of mankind was by no means exalted, nor at all -complimentary to human nature. Utter, hardened selfishness he believed -to be the master-passion of the human race, and any appeal which -addressed itself to that, he looked upon as irresistible. In applying -this rule to Sir Henry Ashwoode he happened, indeed, to be critically -correct, for the young baronet was in very nearly all points fashioned -precisely according to honest Nickey's standard of humanity. That -gentleman experienced, therefore, no misgivings as to his young -friend's preferring at all hazards to remain at Morley Court, rather -than quit the country, and enter upon a life of vagabond beggary. - -"No, no," thought Blarden, "he'll not take leg bail, just because he -can gain nothing earthly by it now; the only thing I can see that could -serve him at all--that is, supposing him to be against the match--is to -cut my throat; however, I don't think he's wild enough to run that -risk, and if he does try it, by ----, he'll have the worst of the -game." - -Thus, after a day of unclouded triumph, did Mr. Blarden compose himself -to light and happy slumbers. - - - - -CHAPTER XL. - -DREAMS--FIRST IMPRESSIONS--THE MAN IN THE PLUM-COLOURED SUIT. - - -The sun shone cheerily through the casement of the quaint and pretty -little chamber which called Mary Ashwoode its mistress. It was a fresh -and sunny autumn morning; the last leaves rustled on the boughs, and -the thrush and blackbird sang their merry morning lays. Mary sat by the -window, looking sadly forth upon the slopes and woods which caught the -slanting beams of the ruddy sun. - -"I have passed, indeed, a very troubled night--I have been haunted with -strange and fearful dreams. I feel very sorrowful and uneasy--indeed, -indeed I do, Carey." - -"It's only the vapours, my lady," replied the maid; "a glass of -orange-flower water and camphor is the sovereignest thing in the world -for them." - -"Indeed, Carey," continued the young lady, still gazing sadly from the -casement, "I know not why it is so--a foolish dream, wild and most -extravagant, yet still it will not leave me. I cannot shake off this -fear and depression. I will run down stairs and talk with my dear -brother--that may cheer me." - -She arose, ran lightly down the stairs, and entered the parlour. The -first object that met her gaze, standing full before her, was a large -and singularly ill-looking man, arrayed in a suit of plum-coloured -cloth, richly laced. It was Nicholas Blarden. With a vulgar swagger, -half abashed and half impudent, the fellow acknowledged her entrance by -retreating a little and making an awkward bow, while a smile and a -leer, more calculated to frighten than to attract, lighted his coarse -and swollen features. The girl looked at this object with a startled -air, she felt that she had seen that sinister face before, but where or -when--whether waking or in a dream, she strove in vain to remember. - -"I say, Ashwoode, where's your manners?" said Blarden, turning angrily -towards the young baronet, who was scarcely less confounded at her -sudden entrance than was the girl herself. "What do you stand gaping -there for? Don't you see the young lady wants to know who I am?" - -Blarden followed this vehement exhortation with a look which at once -recalled Ashwoode to his senses. - -"Mary," said he, approaching, "this is my particular friend, Mr. -Nicholas Blarden. Mr. Blarden, my sister, Miss Mary Ashwoode." - -"Your most obedient humble servant, Mistress Mary," said Blarden, with -a gallant air. "Wonderful beautiful weather; d---- me, but it's like -the middle of summer. I'm just going out to take a bit of a tramp among -the bushes and lead goddesses," he added, not feeling, spite of all his -effrontery, quite at his ease in the presence of the elegant and -high-born girl; and, more confounded and abashed by the simple dignity -of her artless nature than he ever remembered to have been before, -under any circumstances whatever, he made his exit from the chamber. - -"Who is that man?" said the girl, drawing close to her brother's side, -and clinging timidly to his arm. "His face is familiar to me--I have -seen or dreamed of it before; it has been before me either in some -troubled scene or dream. I feel frightened and oppressed when he is -near me. Who is he, brother?" - -"Pshaw! nonsense, girl," said her brother, in vain attempting to appear -unconstrained and at his ease; "he is a very good, honest fellow, not, -as you see, the most polished in the world, but in essentials an -excellent fellow; you'll easily get over your antipathy--his oddity of -manner and appearance is soon forgotten, and in all other points he is -an admirable fellow. Pshaw! you have too much sense to hate a man for -his face and manner." - -"I do not hate him, brother," said Mary, "how could I? The man has -never wronged me; but there is something in his eye, in his air and -expression, in his whole appearance, sinister and terrible--something -which oppresses and terrifies me. I can scarcely move or breathe in his -presence. I only hope that I may never meet him so near again." - -"Your hope is not likely to be realized, then," replied Ashwoode, -abruptly, "he makes a stay here of a week, or perhaps more." - -A silence followed, during which he revolved the expediency of hinting -at once at the designs of Blarden. As he thus paused, moodily plotting -how best to open the subject, the unconscious girl stood beside him, -and, looking fondly in his face, she said,-- - -"Dear brother, you must not be so sad. When all's done, what have we -lost but some of the wealth which we can spare? We have still enough, -quite enough. You shall live with your poor little sister, and I will -take care of you, and read to you, and sing to you whenever you are -sad; and we will walk together in the old green woods, and be far -happier and merrier than ever we could have been in the midst of cold -and heartless luxury and dissipation. Brother, dear brother, when shall -we go to Incharden?" - -"I can't say; I--I don't know that we shall go there at all," replied -he, shortly. - -Deep disappointment clouded the poor girl's face for a moment, but as -instantly the sweet smile returned, and she laid her hand -affectionately upon her brother's shoulder, and looked in his face. - -"Well, dear brother, wherever you go, there is _my_ home, and there I -will be happy--as happy as being with the only creature that cares for -me now can make me." - -"Perhaps there are others who care for you--ay--even more than I do," -said the young man deliberately, and fixing his eyes upon her -searchingly, as he spoke. - -"How, brother; what do you mean?" said the poor girl, faintly, and -turning pale as death. "Have you seen--have you heard from----" She -paused, trembling violently, and Ashwoode resumed,-- - -"No, no, child; I have neither seen nor heard from anyone whom you know -anything of. Why are you so agitated? Pshaw! nonsense." - -"I know not how it is, brother; I am depressed, and easily agitated -to-day," rejoined she; "perhaps it is that I cannot forget a fearful -dream which troubled me last night." - -"Tut, tut, child," replied he; "I thought you had other matters to -think of." - -"And so I have, God knows, dear brother," resumed she--"so I have; but -this dream haunted me long, and haunts me still; it was about you. I -dreamed that we were walking, lovingly, hand in hand, among the shady -walks in this old place; when, on a sudden, a great savage dog--just -like the old blood-hound you had shot last summer--came, with open jaws -and all its fangs exposed, springing towards us. I threw myself, -terrified, into your arms, but you grasped me, with iron strength, and -held me forth toward the frightful animal. I saw your face; it was -changed and horrible. I struggled--I screamed--and awakened, gasping -with afright." - -"A silly, unmeaning dream," said Ashwoode, slightly changing colour, -and turning from her. "You're not such a child, surely, as to let -_that_ trouble you." - -"No, indeed, brother," replied she, "I do not suffer it to trouble my -mind; but it has fastened somehow upon my imagination, and spite of all -I can do, the impression remains---- There--there--see that horrible -man staring in at us, from behind the evergreens," she added, glancing -at a large, tufted laurel, which partially screened the unprepossessing -form of Nicholas Blarden, who was intently watching the youthful pair -as they conversed. Perhaps conscious that he had been observed, he -quitted his lurking-place, and plunged deeper into the thick screen of -foliage. - -"Dear Henry," said she, turning imploringly toward her brother, "there -is something about that man which frightens me; my heart sickens -whenever I see him. I feel like some poor bird under the eye of a hawk. -I do not feel safe when he is looking at me; there is some evil -influence in his gaze--something bad, satanic, in his look and -presence; I dread him instinctively. For God's sake, dear, dear -brother, do not keep company with him--he will harm you--it cannot lead -to good." - -"This is mere folly--downright raving," said Ashwoode, vehemently, but -with an uneasiness which he could not conceal. "He is my guest, and -will remain so for some weeks. I must be civil to him--_both_ of us -must." - -"Surely, dear brother--after all I have said--you will not ask me to -associate with him during his stay, since stay he must," urged Mary. - -"We ought not to consult our whims at the expense of civility," -retorted the baronet, drily. - -"But surely my presence is not required," urged she. - -"You cannot tell how that may be," replied Ashwoode, abruptly, and then -added, abstractedly, as he walked slowly towards the door: "We often -speak, we know not what; we often stand, we know not where--necessity, -fate, destiny--whatever is, _must_ be. Let this be our philosophy, -Mary." - -Wholly at a loss to comprehend this incoherent speech, his sister -remained silent for some minutes. - -"Well, child, how say you?" exclaimed Ashwoode, turning suddenly round. - -"Dear brother," said she, "I would fain not meet that man any more -while he remains here. You will not ask me to come down." - -"A truce to this folly," exclaimed Ashwoode, with loud and sudden -emphasis. "You must--you _must_, I say, appear at breakfast, at dinner, -and at supper. You must see Blarden, and talk with him--he's _my_ -friend--you _must_ know him." Then checking himself, he added, in a -less vehement tone--"Mary, don't _act_ like a fool--you _are_ none: -these silly fancies must not be indulged--remember, he's _my_ friend. -There, there, be a good girl--no more folly." - -He came over, patted her cheek, and then turned abruptly from her, and -left the room. His parting caress, however, was not sufficient to -obliterate the painful impression which his momentary violence had -left, for in that brief space of angry excitement his countenance had -worn the self-same sinister expression which had appalled her in her -last night's dream. - - - - -CHAPTER XLI. - -OF O'CONNOR AND A CERTAIN TRAVELLING ECCLESIASTIC--AND HOW THE DARKNESS -OVERTOOK THEM. - - -It has become necessary, in order to a clear and chronologically -arranged exposition of events to return for a little while to our -melancholy young friend, Edmond O'Connor, who, with his faithful -squire, Larry Toole, following in close attendance upon his progress, -was now returning from a last visit to the poor fragment of his -patrimony, the wreck of his father's fortunes, and which consisted of a -few hundred acres of wild woodland, surrounding a small square tower -half gone to decay, and bidding fair to become in a few years a mere -roofless ruin. He had seen the few retainers of his family who still -remained, and bidden them a last farewell, and was now far in his -second day's leisurely journey toward the city of Dublin. - -The sun was fast declining among the rich and glowing clouds of an -autumnal evening, and pouring its melancholy lustre upon the woods and -the old towers of Leixlip, as the young man rode into that ancient -town. How different were his present feelings from those with which he -had last traversed the quiet little village--then his bright hopes and -cheery fancies had tinged every object he looked on with their own warm -and happy colouring; but now, alas! how mournful the reverse. With the -sweet illusions he had so fondly cherished had vanished all the charm -of all he saw; the scene was disenchanted now, and all seemed coloured -in the sombre and chastened hues of his own deep melancholy; the river, -with all its brawling falls and windings, filled his ear with plaintive -harmonies, and all its dancing foam-bells, that chased one another down -its broad eddies, glancing in the dim, discoloured light of the evening -sun, seemed but so many images of the wayward courses and light -illusions of human hope; even the old ivy-mantled towers, as he looked -upon their time-worn front, seemed to have suffered a century's decay -since last he beheld them; every scene that met his eye, and every -sound that floated to his ear on the still air of evening, was alike -charged with sadness. - -At a slow pace, and with a heart oppressed, he passed the little town, -and soon its trees, and humble roofs, and blue curling smoke were left -far behind him. He had proceeded more than a mile when the sun -descended, and the dusky twilight began to deepen. He spurred his -horse, and at a rate more suited to the limited duration of the little -light which remained, he rode at a sharp trot along the uneven way -toward Dublin. He had not proceeded far at this rate when he overtook a -gentleman on horseback, who was listlessly walking his steed in the -same direction, and who, on seeing a cavalier thus wending his way on -the same route, either with a view to secure good company upon the -road, or for some other less obvious purpose, spurred on also, and took -his place by the side of our young friend. O'Connor looked upon his -uninvited companion with a jealous eye, for his night adventure of a -few months since was forcibly recalled to his memory by the -circumstances of his present situation. The person who rode by his side -was, as well as he could descry, a tall, lank man, with a hooked nose, -heavy brows, and sallow complexion, having something grim and ascetic -in the character of his face. After turning slightly twice or thrice -towards O'Connor, as if doubtful whether to address him, the stranger -at length accosted the young man. - -"A fair evening this, sir," said he, "and just cool enough to make a -brisk ride pleasant." - -O'Connor assented drily, and without waiting for a renewal of the -conversation, spurred his horse into a canter, with the intention of -leaving his new companion behind. That personage was not, however, so -easily to be shaken off; he, in turn, put his horse to precisely the -same pace, and remarked composedly,-- - -"I see, sir, you wish to make the most of the light we've left us; dark -riding, they say, is dangerous riding hereabout. I suppose you ride for -the city?" - -O'Connor made no answer. - -"I presume you make Dublin your halting-place?" repeated the man. - -"You are at liberty, sir," replied O'Connor, somewhat sharply, "to -presume what you please; I have good reasons, however, for not caring -to bandy words with strangers. Where I rest for the night cannot -concern anybody but myself." - -"No offence, sir--no offence meant," replied the man, in the same even -tone, "and I hope none taken." - -A silence of some minutes ensued, during which O'Connor suddenly -slackened his horse's pace to a walk. The stranger made a corresponding -alteration in that of his. - -"Your pace, sir, is mine," observed the stranger. "We may as well -breathe our beasts a little." - -Another pause followed, which was at length broken by the stranger's -observing,-- - -"A lucky chance, in truth. A comrade is an important acquisition in -such a ride as ours promises to be." - -"I already have one of my own choosing," replied O'Connor drily; "I -ride attended." - -"And so do I," continued the other, "and doubtless our trusty squires -are just as happy in the rencounter as are their masters." - -A considerable silence ensued, which at length was broken by the -stranger. - -"Your reserve, sir," said he, "as well as the hour at which you travel, -leads me to conjecture that we are both bound on the same errand. Am I -understood?" - -"You must speak more plainly if you would be so," replied O'Connor. - -"Well, then," resumed he, "I half believe that we shall meet -to-night--where it is no sin to speak loyalty." - -"Still, sir, you leave me in the dark as to your meaning," replied -O'Connor. - -"At a certain well of sweet water," said the man with deliberate -significance--"is it not so--eh--am I right?" - -"No, sir," replied O'Connor, "your sagacity is at fault; or else, it -may be, your wit is too subtle, or mine too dull; for, if your -conjectures be correct, I cannot comprehend your meaning--nor indeed is -it very important that I should." - -"Well, sir," replied he, "I am seldom wrong when I hazard a guess of -this kind; but no matter--if we meet we shall be better friends, I -promise you." - -They had now reached the little town of Chapelizod, and darkness had -closed in. At the door of a hovel, from which streamed a strong red -light, the stranger drew his bridle, and called for a cup of water. A -ragged urchin brought it forth. - -"_Pax Domini vobiscum_," said the stranger, restoring the vessel, and -looking upward steadfastly for a minute, as if in mental prayer, he -raised his hat, and in doing so exhibited the monkish tonsure upon his -head; and as he sate there motionless upon his horse, with his sable -cloak wrapped in ample folds about him, and the strong red light from -the hovel door falling upon his thin and well-marked features, bringing -into strong relief the prominences of his form and attire, and shining -full upon the drooping head of the tired steed which he bestrode--this -equestrian figure might have furnished no unworthy study for the pencil -of Schalken. - -In a few minutes they were again riding side by side along the street -of the straggling little town. - -"I perceive, sir," said O'Connor, "that you are a clergyman. Unless -this dim light deceives me, I saw the tonsure when you raised your hat -just now." - -"Your eyes deceived you not--I am one of a religious order," replied -the man, "and perchance not on that account a more acceptable companion -to you." - -"Indeed you wrong me, reverend sir," said O'Connor. "I owe you an -apology for receiving your advances as I have done; but experience has -taught me caution; and until I know something of those whom I encounter -on the highway, I hold with them as little communication as I can well -avoid. So far from being the less acceptable a companion to me by -reason of your sacred office, believe me, you need no better -recommendation. I am myself an humble child of the true Church; and her -ministers have never claimed respect from me in vain." - -The priest looked searchingly at the young man; but the light afforded -but an imperfect scrutiny. - -"You say, sir," rejoined he after a pause, "that you acknowledge our -father of Rome--that you are one of those who eschew heresy, and cling -constantly to the old true faith--that you are free from the mortal -taint of Protestant infidelity." - -"That do I with my whole heart," rejoined O'Connor. - -"Are you, moreover, one of those who still look with a holy confidence -to the return of better days? When the present order of things, this -usurped government and abused authority, shall pass away like a dark -dream, and fly before the glory of returning truth. Do you look for the -restoration of the royal heritage to its rightful owner, and of these -afflicted countries to the bosom of mother Church?" - -"Happy were I to see these things accomplished," rejoined O'Connor; -"but I hold their achievement, except by the intervention of Almighty -Providence, impossible. Methinks we have in Ireland neither the spirit -nor the power to do it. The people are heartbroken; and so far from -coming to the field in this quarrel, they dare not even speak of it -above their breath." - -"Young man, you speak as one without understanding. You know not this -people of Ireland of whom you speak. Believe me, sir, the spirit to -right these things is deep and strong in the bosoms of the people. What -though they do not cry aloud in agony for vengeance, are they therefore -content, and at their heart's ease? - - "'Quamvis tacet Hermogenes, cantor tamen atque, - Optimus est modulator.' - -"Their silence is not dumbness--you shall hear them speak plainly yet." - -"Well, it may be so," rejoined O'Connor; "but be the people ever so -willing, another difficulty arises--where are the men to lead them -on?--who are they?" - -The priest again looked quickly and suspiciously at the speaker; but -the gloom prevented his discerning the features of his companion. He -became silent--perhaps half-repenting his momentary candour, and rode -slowly forward by O'Connor's side, until they had reached the extremity -of the town. The priest then abruptly said,-- - -"I find, sir, I have been wrong in my conjecture. Our paths at this -point diverge, I believe. You pursue your way by the river's side, and -I take mine to the left. Do not follow me. If you be what you represent -yourself, my command will be sufficient to prevent your doing so; if -otherwise, I ride armed, and can enforce what I conceive necessary to -my safety. Farewell." - -And so saying, the priest turned his horse's head in the direction -which he had intimated, rode up the steep ascent which loomed over the -narrow level by the river's side; and his dark form quickly disappeared -beyond the brow of the dusky hill. O'Connor's eyes instinctively -followed the retreating figure of his companion, until it was lost in -the profound darkness; and then looking back for any dim intimation of -the presence of his trusty follower, he beheld nothing but the dark -void. He listened; but no sound of horse's hoofs betokened pursuit. He -shouted--he called upon his squire by name; but all in vain; and at -length, after straining his voice to its utmost pitch for six or ten -minutes without eliciting any other reply than the prolonged barking of -half the village curs in Chapelizod, he turned away, and pursued his -course alone, consoling himself with the reflection that his attendant -was at least as well acquainted with the way as was he himself, and -that he could not fail to reach the "Cock and Anchor" whenever he -pleased to exert himself for the purpose. - - - - -CHAPTER XLII. - -THE SQUIRES. - - -O'Connor had scarcely been joined by the priest, when Larry Toole, who -jogged quietly on, pipe in mouth, behind his master, was accosted by -his reverence's servant, a stout, clean-limbed fellow, arrayed in blue -frieze, who rode a large, ill-made horse, and bumped listlessly along -at that easy swinging jog at which our southern farmers are wont to -ride. The fellow had a shrewd eye, and a pleasant countenance withal to -look upon, and might be in years some five or six and thirty. - -"God save you, neighbour," said he. - -"God save you kindly," rejoined Mr. Toole graciously. - -"A plisint evenin' for a quiet bit iv a smoke," rejoined the stranger. - -"None better," rejoined Larry, scanning the stranger's proportions, to -see whether, in his own phrase, "he liked his cut." The scrutiny -evidently resulted favourably, for Larry removed his pipe, and handing -it to his new acquaintance, observed courteously, "Maybe you'd take a -draw, neighbour." - -"I thank you kindly," said the stranger, as he transferred the utensil -from Larry's mouth to his own. "It's turning cowld, I think. I wish to -the Lord we had a dhrop iv something to warm us," observed he, speaking -out of the unoccupied corner of his mouth. - -"We'll be in Chapelizod, plase God," said Larry Toole, "in half an -hour, an' if ould Tim Delany isn't gone undher the daisies, maybe we -won't have a taste iv his best." - -"Are _you_ follyin' that gintleman?" inquired the stranger, with his -pipe indicating O'Connor, "that gintleman that the masther is talking -to?" - -"I am _so_," rejoined Larry promptly, "an' a good gintleman he is; an' -that's your masther there. What sort is he?" - -"Oh, good enough, as masthers goes--no way surprisin' one way or th' -other." - -"Where are you goin' to?" pursued Larry. - -"I never axed, bedad," rejoined the man, "only to folly on, wherever he -goes--an' divil a hair I care where that is. What way are you two -goin'?" - -"To Dublin, to be sure," rejoined Larry. "I wisht we wor there now. -What the divil makes him ride so unaiqual--sometimes cantherin', and -other times mostly walkin'--it's mighty nansinsical, so it is." - -"By gorra, I don't know, anless fancy alone," rejoined the stranger. - -"Here's your pipe," continued he, after some pause, "an' I thank you -kindly, misther--misther--how's this they call you?" - -"Misther Larry Toole is the name I was christened by," rejoined the -gentleman so interrogated. - -"An' a rale illegant name it is," replied the stranger. "The Tooles is -a royal family, an' may the Lord restore them to their rights." - -"Amen, bedad," rejoined Larry devoutly. - -"My name's Ned Mollowney," continued he, anticipating Larry's -interrogatory, "from the town of Ballydun, the plisintest spot in the -beautiful county iv Tipperary. There isn't it's aquil out for fine men -and purty girls." Larry sighed. - -The conversation then took that romantic turn which best suited the -melancholy chivalry of Larry's mind, after which the current of their -mutual discoursing, by the attraction of irresistible association, led -them, as they approached the little village, once more into suggestive -commentaries upon the bitter cold, and sundry pleasant speculations -respecting the creature comforts which awaited them under Tim Delany's -genial roof-tree. - -"The holy saints be praised," said Ned Mollowney, "we're in the village -at last. The tellin' iv stories is the dhryest work that ever a boy -tuck in hand. My mouth is like a cindher all as one." - -"Tim Delany's is the second house beyant that wind in the street," said -Larry, pointing down the road as they advanced. "We'll jist get down -for a minute or two, an' have somethin' warrum by the fire; we'll -overtake the gintlemen asy enough." - -"I'm agreeable, Mr. Toole," said the accommodating Ned Mollowney. "Let -the gintlemen take care iv themselves. They're come to an age when they -ought to know what they're about." - -"This is it," said Larry, checking his horse before a low thatched -house, from whose doorway the cheerful light was gleaming upon the -bushes opposite. - -The two worthies dismounted, and entered the humble place of -entertainment. Tim Delany's company was singularly fascinating, and his -liquor was, if possible, more so--besides, the evening was chill, and -his hearth blazed with a fire, the very sight of which made the blood -circulate freely, and the finger-tops grow warm. Larry Toole was -prepossessed in favour of Ned Mollowney, and Ned Mollowney had fallen -in love with Larry Toole, so that it is hardly to be wondered at that -the two gentlemen yielded to the combined seduction of their situation, -and seated themselves snugly by the fire, each with his due allowance -of stimulating liquor, and with a very vague and uncertain kind of -belief in the likelihood of their following their masters respectively -until they had made themselves particularly comfortable. It was not -until after nearly two hours of blissful communion with his delectable -companion, that Larry Toole suddenly bethought him of the fact that he -had allowed his master, at the lowest calculation, time enough to have -ridden to and from the "Cock and Anchor" at least half a dozen times. -He, therefore, hurriedly bade good-night, with many a fond vow of -eternal friendship for the two companions of his princely revelry, -mounted his horse with some little difficulty, and becoming every -moment more and more confused, and less and less perpendicular, found -himself at length--with an indistinct remembrance of having had several -hundred falls upon every possible part of his body, and upon every -possible geological substance, from soft alluvial mud up to plain -lime-stone, during the course of his progress--within the brick -precincts of the city. The horse, with an instinctive contempt for Mr. -Toole's judgment, wholly disregarded that gentleman's vehement appeals -to the bridle, and quietly pursued his well-known way to the hostelry -of the "Cock and Anchor." - -Our honest friend had hardly dismounted, which he did with one eye -closed, and a hiccough, and a happy smile which mournfully contrasted -with his filthy and battered condition, when he at once became -absolutely insensible, from which condition he did not recover till -next morning, when he found himself partially in bed, quite undressed, -with the exception of his breeches, boots, and spurs, which he had -forgotten to remove, and which latter, along with his feet, he had -deposited upon the pillow, allowing his head to slope gently downward -towards the foot of the bed. - -As soon as Mr. Toole had ascertained where he was, and begun to -recollect how he came there, he removed his legs from the pillow, and -softly slid upon the floor. His first solicitude was for his clothes, -the spattered and villainous condition of which appalled him; his next -was to endeavour to remember whether or not his master had witnessed -his weakness. Absorbed in this severe effort of memory, he sat upon the -bedside, gazing upon the floor, and scratching his head, when the door -opened, and his friend the groom entered the chamber. - -"I say, old gentleman, you've been having a little bit of a spree," -observed he, gazing pleasantly upon the disconsolate figure of the -little man, who sat in his shirt and jack-boots, staring at him with a -woe-begone and bewildered air. "Why, you had a bushel of mud about your -body when you came in, and no hat at all. Well, you _had_ a pleasant -night of it--there's no denying that." - -"No hat;" said Larry desolately. "It isn't possible I dropped my hat -off my head unknownest. Bloody wars, my hat! is it gone in airnest?" - -"Yes, young gentleman, you came here bareheaded. The hat _is_ gone, and -that's a fact," replied the groom. - -"I thought my coat was bad enough; but--oh! blur-anagers, my hat!" -ejaculated Larry with abandonment. "Bad luck go with the -liquor--tare-an-ouns, my hat!" - -"There's a shoe off the horse," observed the groom; "and the seat is -gone out of your breeches as clean as if it never was in it. Well, but -you _had_ a pleasant evening of it--you had." - -"An' my breeches desthroyed--ruined beyant cure! See, Tom Berry, take a -blundherbuz, will you, and put me out of pain at wonst. My breeches! -Oh, divil go with the liquor! Holy Moses, is it possible?--my -breeches!" - -In an agony of contrition and desperate remorse, Larry Toole clasped -his hands over his eyes and remained for some minutes silent; at length -he said-- - -"An' what did the masther say? Don't be keeping me in pain--out with it -at wonst." - -"What master?" inquired the groom. - -"What masther?" echoed Mr. Toole--"why Mr. O'Connor, to be sure." - -"I'm sure I can't say," replied the man; "I have not seen him this -month." - -"Wasn't he here before me last night?" inquired the little man. - -"No, nor after neither," replied his visitor. - -"Do you mane to tell me that he's not in the house at all?" -interrogated Mr. Toole. - -"Yes," replied he, "Mr. O'Connor is _not_ in the house; the horse did -not cross the yard this month. Will that do you?" - -"Be the hoky," said Larry, "that's exthramely quare. But are you raly -sure and quite sartin?" - -"Yes, I tell you yes," replied he. - -"Well, well," said Mr. Toole, "but that puts me to the divil's rounds -to undherstand it--not come at all. What in the world's gone with -him--not come--where else could he go to? Begorra, the whole iv the -occurrences iv last night is a blaggard mysthery. What the divil's gone -with him--where is he at all?--why couldn't he wait a bit for me an' -I'd iv tuck the best care iv him? but gintlemen is always anruly. What -the divil's keepin' him? I wouldn't be surprised if he made a baste iv -himself in some public-house last night. A man ought never to take a -dhrop more than jist what makes him plisant--bad luck to it. Lend me a -breeches, an' I'll pray for you all the rest of my days. I must go out -at wonst an' look for him; maybe he's at Mr. Audley's lodgings--ay, -sure enough, it's there he is. Bad luck to the liquor. Why the divil -did I let him go alone? Oh! sweet bad luck to it," he continued in -fierce anguish, as he held up the muddy wreck of his favourite coat -before his aching eyes--"my elegant coat--bad luck to it again--an' my -beautiful hat--once more bad luck to it; an' my breeches--oh! it's -fairly past bearin'--my elegant breeches! Bad luck to it for a -threacherous drop--an' the masther lost, and no one knows what's done -with him. Up with that poker, I tell you, and blow my brains out at -once; there's nothing before me in this life but the divil's own -delight--finish me, I tell you, and let me rest in the shade. I'll -never hould up my head again, there's no use in purtendin'. Oh! bad -luck to the dhrink!" - -In this distracted frame of mind did Larry continue for nearly an hour, -after which, with the aid of some contributions from the wardrobe of -honest Tom Berry, he clothed himself, and went forth in quest of his -master. - - - - -CHAPTER XLIII. - -THE WILD WOOD--THE OLD MANSION-HOUSE OF FINISKEA--SECRETS, AND A -SURPRISE. - - -O'Connor pursued his way towards the city, following the broken -horse-track, which then traversed the low grounds which lie upon the -left bank of the Liffey. The Phoenix Park, or, as it was then called, -the Royal Park, was at the time of which we write a much wilder place -than it now is. There were no trim plantations nor stately clumps of -tufted trees, no signs of care or culture. Broad patches of shaggy -thorn spread with little interruption over the grounds, and regular -roads were then unknown. The darkness became momentarily deeper and -more deep as O'Connor pursued his solitary way; and the difficulty of -proceeding grew every instant greater, for the heavy rains had -interrupted his path with deep sloughs and pools, which became at -length so frequent, and so difficult of passage, that he was fain to -turn from the ordinary track, and seek an easier path along the high -grounds which overhang the river. The close screen of the wild gnarled -thorns which covered the upper level on which he now moved, still -further deepened the darkness; and he became at length so entirely -involved in the pitchy gloom, that he dismounted, and taking his horse -by the head, led him forward through the tangled brake, and under the -knotted branches of the old hoary thorns, stumbling among the briers -and the crooked roots, and every moment encountering the sudden -obstruction, either of some stooping branch, or the trunk of one of the -old trees; so that altogether his progress was as tedious and -unpleasant as it well could be. His annoyance became the greater as he -proceeded; for he was so often compelled to turn aside, and change his -course, to avoid these interruptions, that in the utter darkness he -began to grow entirely uncertain whether or not he was moving in the -right direction. The more he paused, and the oftener he reflected, the -more entirely puzzled and bewildered did he become. Glad indeed would -he have been that he had followed the track upon which he had at first -entered, and run the hazard of all the sloughs and pools which crossed -it; but he was now embarked in another route; and even had he desired -it, so perplexed was he, that he could not have effected his retreat. -Fully alive to the ridiculousness, as well as the annoyance of his -situation, he slowly and painfully stumbled forward, conscious that if -only he could move for half an hour or thereabout consistently in the -same direction, he must disengage himself in some quarter or another -from the entanglement in which he was involved. In vain he looked round -him; nothing but entire darkness encountered him. In vain he listened -for any sound which might intimate the neighbourhood of any living -thing. Nothing but the hushed soughing of the evening breeze through -the old boughs was audible; and he was forced to continue his route in -the same troublesome uncertainty. - -At length he saw, or thought he saw, a red light gleaming through the -trees. It disappeared--it came again. He stopped, uncertain whether it -was one of those fitful marsh-fires which but mock the perplexity of -benighted travellers; but no--this light shone clearly, and with a -steady beam, through the branches; and towards it he directed his -steps, losing it now, and again recovering it, till at length, after a -longer probation than he had at first expected, he gained a clear space -of ground, intersected only by a few broken hedges and ditches, but -free from the close wood which had so entirely darkened his advance. In -this position he was enabled to discern that the light which had guided -him streamed from the window of an old shattered house, partially -surrounded by a dilapidated wall, having a few ruinous outhouses -attached to it. In this building he beheld the old mansion-house of -Finiskea, which then occupied the ground on which at present stands the -powder-magazine, and which, by a slight alteration in sound, though -without any analogy in meaning, has given its name to the Phoenix Park. -The light streamed through the diamond panes of a narrow casement; and -still leading his horse, O'Connor made his way over the broken fences -towards the old house. As he approached, he perceived several figures -moving to and fro in the chamber from which the light issued, and -detected, or thought he did so, among them the remarkable form of the -priest who had lately been his companion upon the road. As he advanced, -someone inside drew a curtain across the window, though, as O'Connor -conjectured, wholly unaware of his approach, and thus precluded any -further reconnoitering on his part. - -"At all events," thought he, "they can spare me some one to put me upon -my way. They can hardly complain if I intrude upon such an errand." - -With this reflection, he led his horse round the corner of the building -to the door, which was sheltered by a small porch roofed with tiles. By -the faint light, which in the open space made objects partially -discernible, he perceived two men, as it appeared to him, fast -asleep--half sitting and half lying on the low step of the door. He had -just come near enough to accost them, when, somewhat to his surprise, -he was seized from behind in a powerful grip, and his arms pinioned to -his sides. A single antagonist he would easily have shaken off; but a -reinforcement was at hand. - -"Up, boys--be stirring--open the door," cried the hoarse voice of the -person who held O'Connor. - -The two figures started to their feet; their strength, combined with -the efforts of his first assailant, effectually mastered O'Connor, and -one of them shoved the door open. - -"Pretty watch you keep," said he, as the party hurried their prisoner, -wholly without the power of resistance, into the house. - -Three or four powerful, large-limbed fellows, well armed, were seated -in the hall, and arose on his entrance. O'Connor saw that resistance -against such odds were idle, and resolved patiently to submit to the -issue, whatever it might be. - -"Gentlemen that's caught peeping is sometimes made to see more than -they have a mind to," observed one of O'Connor's conductors. - -Another removed his sword, and having satisfied himself that he had not -any other weapon upon his person, observed,-- - -"You may let his elbows loose; but jist keep him tight by the collar." - -"Let the gentlemen know there's a bird limed," observed the first -speaker; and one of the others passed from the narrow hall to execute -the mission. - -After some little delay, O'Connor, who awaited the result with more of -curiosity and impatience than of alarm, was conducted by two of the -armed men who had secured him through a large passage terminating in a -chamber, which they also traversed, and by a second door at its far -extremity found entrance into a rude but spacious apartment, floored -with tiles, and with a low ceiling of dark plank, supported by -ponderous beams. A large wood fire burned in the hearth, beside which -some half dozen men were congregated; several others were seated by a -massive table, on which were writing materials, with which two or three -of them were busily employed; a number of open letters were also strewn -upon it, and here and there a brace of horse-pistols or a carbine -showed that the party felt neither very secure, nor very much disposed -to surrender without a struggle, should their worst anticipations be -realized, in any attempt to surprise them. - -Most of those who were present bore, in their disordered dress and -mud-soiled boots, the evidence of recent travel. They were lighted -chiefly by the broad, uncertain gleam of the blazing wood fire, in -which the misty flame of two or three wretched candles which burned -upon the table shone pale and dim as the last stars of night in the red -dawn of an autumnal sun. In this strong and ruddy light the groups of -figures, variously attired, some seated by the table, and others -standing with their ample cloaks still folded around them, acquired by -the contrast of broad light and shade a character of picturesqueness -which had in it something wild and imposing. This singular tableau -occupied the further end of the room, which was one of considerable -length, and as the prisoner was led forward to the bar of the tribunal, -those who composed it eyed him sternly and fixedly. - -"Bind his hands fast," said a lean and dark-featured man, with a -singularly forbidding aspect and a deep, stern voice, who sat at the -head of the table with a pile of papers beside him. Spite of O'Connor's -struggles, the order was speedily executed, and with such good-will -that the blood almost started from his nails. - -"Now, sir," continued the same speaker, "who are you, and what may your -errand be?" - -"Before I answer your questions you must satisfy me that you have -authority to ask them," replied O'Connor. "Who, I pray, are you, who -dare to seize the person, and to bind the limbs of a free man? I shall -know this ere one of your questions shall have a reply." - -"I have seen you, young sir, before--scarce an hour since," observed -one of those who stood by the hearth. "Look at me, and say do you -remember my features?" - -"I do," replied O'Connor, who had no difficulty in recognizing those of -the priest who had parted from him so abruptly on that evening--"of -course I recollect your face; we rode side by side from Leixlip -to-day." - -"You recollect my caution too--you cannot have forgotten that," -continued the priest, menacingly. "You know how peremptorily I warned -you against following me, yet you have dogged me here; on your own head -be the consequences--the fool shall perish in his folly." - -"I have _not_ dogged you here, sir," replied O'Connor; "I seek my way -to Dublin. The river banks are so soft that a horse had better swim -than seek to keep them; I therefore took the upper ground, and after -losing myself among the woods, at length saw a light, reached it, and -here I am." - -The priest heard the statement with a sinister smile. - -"A truce to these inventions, sir," said he. "It is indeed _possible_ -that you speak the truth, but it is in the highest degree _probable_ -that you lie; it is, in a word, plain--satisfactorily plain, that you -followed me hither, as I suspected you might have done; you have dogged -me, sir, and you have seen all that you sought to behold; you have seen -my place of destination and my company. I care not with what motive you -have acted--that is between yourself and your Maker. If you are a spy, -which I shrewdly suspect, Providence has defeated your treason, and -punished the traitor; if mere curiosity impelled you, you will remember -that ill-directed curiosity was the sin which brought death upon -mankind, and cease to wonder that its fruits may be bitter to yourself. -What say you, young man?" - -"I have told you plainly how I happened to reach this place," replied -O'Connor; "I have told you once--I will repeat the statement no more; -and once again I ask, on what authority you question me, and dare thus -to bind my hands and keep me here against my will?" - -"Authority sufficient to satisfy our own consciences," rejoined the -priest. "The responsibility rests not upon you; enough it is for you to -know that we have the power to detain you, and that we exercise that -power, as we most probably shall _another_, still less conducive to -your comfort." - -"You have the power to make me captive, I admit," rejoined -O'Connor--"you have the power to murder me, as you threaten, but though -power to keep or kill is all the justification a robber or a bravo -needs, methinks such an argument should hardly satisfy a consecrated -minister of Christ." - -The expression with which the priest regarded the young man grew -blacker and more truculent at this rebuke, and after a silence of a few -seconds he replied,-- - -"We are doubly authorized in what we do--ay, trebly warranted, young -traitor. God Almighty has given us the instinct of self-defence, which -in a righteous cause it is laudable to consult and indulge; the Church, -too, tells us in these times to deal strictly with the malignant -persecutors of God's truth; and lastly, we have a royal warranty--the -authority of the rightful king of these realms, investing us with -powers to deal summarily with rebels and traitors. Let this satisfy -you." - -"I honour the king," rejoined O'Connor, "as truly as any man here, -seeing that _my_ father lost all in the service of his illustrious -sire, but I need some more satisfactory assurance of his delegated -authority than the bare assertion of a violent man, of whom I know -absolutely nothing, and until you show me some instrument empowering -you to act thus, I will not acknowledge your competency to subject me -to an examination, and still resolutely protest against your detaining -me here." - -"You refuse, then, to answer our questions?" said the hard-featured -little person who sat at the far end of the table. - -"Until you show authority to put them, I peremptorily _do_ refuse to -answer them," replied the young man. - -The little person looked expressively at the priest, who appeared to -hold a high influence among the party. He answered the look by -saying,-- - -"His blood be upon his own head." - -"Nay, not so fast, holy father; let us debate upon this matter for a -few minutes, ere we execute sentence," said a singularly noble-looking -man who stood beside the priest. "Remove the prisoner," he added, with -a voice of command, "and keep him strictly guarded." - -"Well, be it so," said he, reluctantly. - -The little man who sat at the head of the table made a gesture to those -who guarded O'Connor, and the order thus given and sanctioned was at -once carried into execution. - - - - -CHAPTER XLIV. - -THE DOOM. - - -The young man was conveyed from the chamber by his two athletic -conductors, the door closed upon the deliberations of the stern -tribunal who were just about to debate upon the question of his life or -death, and he was led round the corner of a lobby, a few steps from the -chamber where his judges sat; a stout door in the wall was pushed open -and he himself thrust through it into a cold, empty apartment, in -perfect darkness, and the door shut and barred behind him. - -Here, in solitude and darkness, the horrors of his situation rushed -upon him with tremendous and overwhelming reality. His life was in the -hands of fierce and relentless men, by whom, he had little doubt, he -was already judged and condemned; bound and helpless, he must await, -without the power of hastening or of deferring his fate by a single -minute, the cold-blooded deliberations of the conclave who sat within. -Unable even to hear the progress of the debate on whose result his life -was suspended, a faint and dizzy sickness came upon him, and the cold -dew burst from every pore; ghastly, shapeless images of horror hurried -with sightless speed across his mind, and his brain throbbed with the -fearful excitement of madness. With a desperate effort he roused his -energies; but what could human ingenuity, even sharpened by the -presence of urgent and terrific danger, suggest or devise? His hands -were firmly bound behind his back; in vain he tugged with all his -strength, in the fruitless hope of disengaging the cords which crushed -them together. He groaned in downright agony as, strength and hope -exhausted, he gave up the desperate attempt; nothing then could be -done; there remained for him no hope--no chance. In this horrible -condition he walked with slow steps to and fro in the dark chamber, in -vain endeavouring to compose his terrible agitation. - -"Were my hands but free," thought he, "I should let the villains know -that against any odds a resolute man may sell his life dearly. But it -is in vain to struggle; they have bound me here but too securely." - - [Illustration: "He made his way to the aperture." - _To face page 223._] - -Thus saying, he leaned himself against the partition, to await, -passively, the event which he knew could not be far distant. The -surface against which he leaned was not that of the wall--it yielded -slightly to his pressure--it was a door. With his knee and shoulder he -easily forced it open, and entered another chamber, at the far-side of -which he distinctly saw a stream of light, which, passing through a -chink, fell upon the opposite wall, and, at the same time, he clearly -heard the muffled sound of voices in debate. He made his way to the -aperture through which the light found entrance, and as he did so, the -sound of the voices fell more and more distinctly upon his ear. A small -square, of about two feet each way, was cut in the wall, affording an -orifice through which, probably, the closet in which he stood was -imperfectly lighted in the daytime. A plank shutter was closed over -this, and barred upon the outside, through the imperfect joints of -which the light had found its way, and O'Connor now scanned the -contents of the outer chamber. It was that in which the assembly, in -whose presence he had, but a few minutes before, been standing, were -congregated. A low, broad-shouldered man, whose dress was that of -mourning, and who wore his own hair, which descended in meagre ringlets -of black upon either side, leaving the bald summit of his head exposed, -and who added to the singularity of his appearance not a little by a -long, thick beard, which covered his chin and upper lip--this man, who -sat nearly opposite to the opening through which O'Connor looked, was -speaking and addressing himself to some person who stood, as it -appeared, divided by little more than the thickness of the wall from -the party whose life he was debating. - -"And against all this," continued the speaker, "what weighs the life of -one man--one life, at best useless to the country, and useless to the -king--at _best_, I say? What came we here for? No light matter to take -in hand, sirs; to be pursued with no small risk; each comes hither, -_cinctus gladio_, in the cause of the king. That cause with our own -lives we are bound to maintain; and why not, if need be, at the cost of -the lives of others? No good can come of sparing this fellow--at the -best, no advantage to the cause: and, on the other hand, should he -prove a traitor, a spy, or even an idle babbler, the heaviest damage -may befall us. Tush, tush, gentlemen, it is ill straining at gnats in -such times. We are here a court-martial, or no court at all. If I find -that such dangerous vacillation as this carries it in your councils, I -shall, for one, henceforward hang my sword over the mantel-piece, and -obey the new laws. What! one life against such a risk--one execution, -to save the cause and secure us all. To us, who have served in the -king's wars, and hanged rebels by the round dozen--even on suspicion of -being so--such indecision seems incredible. There ought not to be two -words about the matter. Put him to death." - -Having thus acquitted himself, this somewhat unattractive personage -applied himself, with much industry and absorption, to the task of -chopping, shredding, rolling up, and otherwise preparing a piece of -tobacco for the bowl of his pipe. - -"I confess," said someone whom O'Connor could not see, "that in -pleading what may be said on behalf of this young man, I have no ground -to go upon beyond a mere instinctive belief in the poor fellow's -honesty, and in the truth of his story." - -"Pardon me, sir," replied one in whose voice O'Connor thought he -recognized that of the priest, "if I say, that to act upon such -fanciful impressions, as if they were grounded upon evidence, were, in -nine cases out of every ten, the most transcendent and mischievous -folly. I repeat my own conviction, upon something like satisfactory -evidence, that he is _not_ honest. I talked with the fellow this -evening--perhaps a little too freely--but in that conference, if he -lied not, I learned that he belonged to that most dangerous class--the -worst with whom we have to contend--the lukewarm, professing, passive -Catholics--the very stuff of which the worst kind of spies and -informers are made. He, no doubt, guessed, from what I said--for, to be -plain with you, I spoke too freely by a great deal, in the belief, I -know not how assumed, that he was one of ourselves--he guessed, I say, -something of the nature of my mission, and tracked me hither--at all -events, by some strange coincidence, hither he came. It is for you to -weigh the question of probabilities." - -"It matters not, in my mind, why or how he came hither," observed the -ill-favoured gentleman, who sate at the head of the table; "he _is_ -here, and he hath seen our meeting, and could identify many of us. This -is too large a confidence to repose in a stranger, and I for one do not -like it, and therefore I say let him be killed without any more parley -or debate." - -The old man paused, and a silence followed. With an agonized attention, -O'Connor listened for one word or movement of dissent; it came not. - -"All agreed?" said the bearded hero, preparing to light his tobacco -pipe at the candle. "Well, so I expected." - -The little man who had spoken before him knocked sharply with the butt -of a pistol upon the table, and O'Connor heard the door of the room -open. The same person beckoned with his hand, and one of the stalwart -men who had assisted in securing him, advanced to the foot of the -board. - -"Let a grave be digged in the orchard," said he, "and when it is ready, -bring the prisoner out and despatch him, Let it be all done and the -grave closed in half an hour." - -The man made a rude obeisance, and left the room in silence. - -Bound as he was, O'Connor traced the four walls of the room, in the -vague hope that he might discover some other outlet from the chamber -than that which he had just entered. But in vain; nothing encountered -him but the hard, cold wall; and even had it been otherwise, thus -helplessly manacled, what would it have availed him? He passed into the -room into which he had been first thrust by the two guards, and in a -state little short of frenzy, he cast himself upon the floor. - -"Oh God!" said he, "it is terrible to see death thus creeping toward -me, and not to have the power to help myself. I am doomed--my life -already devoted, and before another hour I shall lie under the clay, a -corpse. Is there nothing to be done--no hope, no chance? Oh, God! -nothing!" - -As he lay in this strong agony, he heard, or thought he heard, the -clank of the spade upon the stony soil without. The work was begun--the -grave was opened. Madly he strained at the cords--he tugged with more -than human might--but all in vain. Still with horrible monotony he -heard the clank of the iron mattock tinkling and clanking in the -gravelly soil. Oh! that he could have stopped his ears to exclude the -maddening sound. The pulses smote upon his brain like floods of fire. -With closed eyes, and teeth set, and hands desperately clenched, he -drew himself together, in the awful spasms of uncontrollable horror. -Suddenly this fearful paroxysm departed, and a kind of awful calm -supervened. It was no dull insensibility to his real situation, but a -certain collectedness and calm self-possession, which enabled him to -behold the grim adversary of human kind, even arrayed in all the -terrors of his nearest approach, with a steady eye. - -"After all, when all's done, what have I to lose? Life had no more joys -for me--happy I could never more have been. Why should the miserable -dread death, and cling to life like cowards? What is it? A brief -struggle--the agony of a few minutes--the instinctive yearnings of our -nature after life; and this over, comes rest--eternal quiet." - -He then endeavoured, in prayer, earnestly to commend his spirit to its -Maker. While thus employed he heard steps upon the hard tiles of the -passage. His heart swelled as though it would burst. He rightly guessed -their mission. The bolt was slowly drawn; the dusky light of a lantern -streamed into the room, and revealed upon the threshold the forms of -three tall men. - -"Lift him up--rise him, boys," said he who carried the lantern. - -"You must come with us," said one of the two who advanced to O'Connor. - -Resistance was fruitless, and he offered none. A cold, sick, -overwhelming horror unstrung his joints and dimmed his sight. He -suffered them to lead him passively from the room. - - - - -CHAPTER XLV. - -THE MAN IN THE CLOAK--AND HIS BED-CHAMBER. - - -As O'Connor approached the outer door through which he was to pass to -certain and speedy death, it were not easy to describe or analyze his -sensations; every object he beheld in the brief glance he cast around -him as he passed along the hall appeared invested with a strangely -sharp and vivid intensity of distinctness, and had in its aspect -something indefinably spectral and ghastly--like things beheld under -the terrific spell of a waking nightmare. His tremendous situation -seemed to him something unreal, incredible; he walked in an appalling -dream; in vain he strove to fix his thoughts myriads and myriads of -scenes and incidents, never remembered since childhood's days, now with -strange distinctness and wild rapidity whirled through his brain. The -hall-door stood half open, and the fellow who led the way had almost -reached it, when it was on a sudden thrown wide, and a figure, muffled -in a cloak, confronted the funeral procession. - -The foremost man raised the ponderous weapon which he carried, and held -it poised in the air, ready to shiver the head of the intruder should -he venture to advance--the two guards who held O'Connor halted at the -same time. - -"How's this, Cormack!" said the stranger. "Do you lift your weapon -against the life of a friend?--rub your eyes and waken--how is it you -cannot know me?--you've been drinking, sirrah." - -At the sound of the speaker's voice the man at once lowered his hatchet -and withdrew, a little sulkily, like a rebuked mastiff. - -"What means all this?" continued he in the cloak, looking searchingly -at the party in the rear; "whom have we got here?--where made you this -prisoner? So, so--this must be looked to. How were you about to deal -with him, fellow?" he added, addressing himself to him whom he had -first encountered. - -"According to orders, captain," replied the man, doggedly. - -"And how may that have been?" interrogated the gentleman in the cloak. - -"_End_ him," replied he, sulkily. - -"Has he been before the council in the great parlour?" inquired the -stranger. - -"Yes, captain--long enough, too," replied the fellow. - -"And _they_ have ordered this execution?" added the newly arrived. - -"Yes, sir--who else? Come on, boys--bring him out, will you? Time is -running short," he added, addressing his comrades, and himself -approaching the door. - -"Re-conduct the prisoner to the council-board," said the stranger, in a -tone of command. - -Without a moment's hesitation they obeyed the order; and O'Connor, -followed by the muffled figure of the stranger, for the second time -entered the apartment where his relentless judges sate. - -The new-comer strode up the room to the table at which the self-styled -council were seated. - -"God save you, gentlemen," said he, "and prosper the good work ye have -taken in hand;" and thus speaking, he removed and cast upon the table -his hat and cloak, thereby revealing the square-built form and harsh -features of O'Hanlon. - -O'Connor no sooner recognized the traits of his mysterious -acquaintance, than he felt a hope which thrilled with a strange agony -of his heart--a hope--almost a conviction--that he should escape; and -unaccountable though it may appear, in this hope he felt more unmanned -and agitated than he had done but a few moments before, in the apparent -certainty of immediate and inevitable destruction. - -The salutation of O'Hanlon was warmly, almost enthusiastically, -returned, and after this interchange of friendly greeting, and a few -brief questions and answers touching comparatively indifferent matters, -he glanced toward O'Connor, and said,-- - -"I've so far presumed upon my favour with you, gentlemen, as to stay -your orders in respect of that young gentleman, whom, it would appear, -you have judged worthy of death. Death is a matter whose importance -I've never very much insisted upon--that you know--at least, several -among you, gentlemen, well know it, for you have seen me deal it -somewhat unsparingly when the cause required it; but I profess I do not -care in cool blood to take life upon insufficient reason. Life is -lightly taken; but once gone, who can restore it? Therefore, I think it -very meet that patient consideration should be had of all cases, when -such deliberation is possible and convenient, before proceeding to the -last irrevocable extremity. Pray you inform me upon what charges does -this youth stand convicted, that his life should be forfeit?" - -"It is briefly told," replied the priest. "On my way hither I -encountered him; we rode and conversed together; and conjecturing that -he travelled on the same errand as myself, I talked to him more freely -than in all discretion I ought to have done. I discovered my mistake, -and at Chapelizod I turned and left him, telling him with threats _not_ -to follow me; yet scarcely had I been here ten minutes, when this -gentleman is found lurking near the house--and about to enter it. He is -seized, bound, brought in here, and witnesses our assembly and -proceedings. Under these suspicious circumstances, and with the -knowledge of our meeting and its objects, were it wise to let him go? -Surely not so--but the veriest madness." - -"Young man," said O'Hanlon, turning to O'Connor, "what say you to -this?" - -"No more than what I already told these gentlemen--simply, that taking -the upper level to avoid the sloughs by the river side, I became in the -darkness entangled in the dense woods which cover these grounds, and at -length, after groping my way through the trees as best I might, arrived -by the merest chance at this place, and without the slightest -knowledge, or even suspicion, either that I was following the course -taken by that gentleman, or intruding myself upon any secret councils. -I have no more to say--this is the simple truth." - -"Well, gentlemen," said O'Hanlon, "you hear the prisoner's defence. -What think you?" - -"We have decided already, and he has now produced nothing new in his -favour. I see no reason why we should alter our decision," replied the -priest. - -"You would, then, put him to death?" inquired he. - -"Assuredly," replied the priest, calmly. - -"But this shall not be, gentlemen; he shall _not_ die. You shall slay -_me_ first," replied O'Hanlon. "I know this youth; and every word he -has spoken I believe. He is the son of one who risked his life a -hundred times, and lost all for the sake of the king and his -country--one who, throughout the desperate and fruitless struggles of -Irish loyalty, was in the field my constant comrade, and a braver and a -better one none ever need desire. The son of such a man shall not -perish by our hands; and for the risk of his talking elsewhere of this -night's adventure, I will be his surety, with my life, that he mentions -it to no one, and nowhere." - -A silence of some seconds followed this unexpected declaration. - -"Be it so, then," said the priest; "for my part, I offer no -resistance." - -"So say I," added the person who sat with the papers by him at the -extremity of the board. "On you, however, Captain O'Hanlon, rest the -whole responsibility of this act." - -"On me alone. Were there the possibility of treason in that youth, I -would myself perish ere I should move a hand to save him," replied -O'Hanlon. "I gladly take upon myself the whole accountability, and all -the consequences of the act." - -"Your life and liberty are yours, sir," said the priest, addressing -O'Connor; "see that you abuse neither to our prejudice. Unbind and let -the prisoner go." - -"Stay," said O'Hanlon. "Mr. O'Connor, I have one request to make." - -"It is granted ere it is made. What can I return you in exchange for my -life?" replied O'Connor. - -"I wish to speak with you to-night," continued O'Hanlon, "on matters -which concern you nearly. You will remain here--you can have a chamber. -Farewell for the present. Conduct Mr. O'Connor to my apartment," he -added, addressing the attendants, who were employed in loosening the -strained cords which bound his hands; and with this direction, O'Hanlon -mingled with the group at the hearth, and began to converse with them -in a low voice. - -O'Connor followed his guide through a narrow, damp-stained corridor, -with tiled flooring, and up a broad staircase, with heavy oaken -balustrades, and steps whose planks seemed worn by the tread of -centuries; and then along another passage, more cheerless still than -the first--several of the narrow windows, by which in the daytime it -was lighted, had now lost every vestige of glass, and even of the -wooden framework in which it had been fixed, and gave free admission to -the fitful night-wind, as well as to the straggling boughs of ivy which -mantled the old walls and clustered shelteringly about the ruined -casements. Screening the candle which he carried behind the flap of his -coat, to prevent its being extinguished by the gusts which somewhat -rudely swept the narrow passage, the man led O'Connor to a chamber, -which they both entered. It was not quite so cheerless as the desolate -condition of the approach to it might have warranted one in expecting; -a wood-fire, which had been recently replenished, blazed and crackled -briskly upon the hearth, and shed an uncertain but cheerful glow -through the recesses of the chamber. It was a spacious apartment, hung -with stamped leather, in many places stained and rotted by the damp, -and here and there hanging in rags from the wall, and exposing the -bare, mildewed plaster beneath. The furniture was scanty, and in -keeping with the place--old, dark, and crazy; and a wretched bed, with -very spare covering, was, as it seemed, temporarily strewn upon the -floor, near the hearth. The man placed the candle upon a small table, -black with age, and patched and crutched up like a battered pensioner, -and flinging some more wood upon the fire, turned and left the room in -silence. - -Alone, his first employment was to review again and again the strange -events of that night; his next was to conjecture the nature of -O'Hanlon's promised communication. Baffled in these latter -speculations, he applied himself to examine the old chamber in which he -sat, and to endeavour to trace the half-obliterated pattern of the -tattered hangings. These occupations, along with sundry speculations -just as idle, touching the original of a grim old portrait, faded and -torn, which hung over the fireplace, filled up the tedious hours which -preceded his expected interview with his preserver. - -At length the weary interval elapsed, and the anxiously expected moment -arrived. The door opened, and O'Hanlon entered. He approached the young -man, who advanced to meet him, and extending his hand, grasped that of -O'Connor with a warm and friendly pressure. - - - - -CHAPTER XLVI. - -THE DOUBLE CONFERENCE--OLD PAPERS. - - -"When last I saw you," said O'Hanlon, seating himself before the -hearth, and motioning O'Connor to take a chair also, "I told you that -you ought to tame your rash young blood, and gave you thereupon an old -soldier's best advice. It seems, however, that you are wayward and -headlong still. Young soldiers look for danger--old ones are content to -meet it when it comes, knowing well that it will come often enough, -uninvited and unsought; nevertheless, we will pass by this night's -adventure, and turn to other matters. First, however, it were meet and -necessary that you should have somewhat to refresh you; you must needs -be weary and exhausted." - -"If you can give me some wine, it will be very welcome. I care not for -anything more to-night," replied O'Connor. - -"That can I," replied he, "and will myself do you reason." He arose, -and after a few minutes' absence entered with two flasks, whose dust -and cobwebs bespoke their antiquity, and filled two large, long-stemmed -glasses with the generous liquor. - -"Young man," said O'Hanlon, "from the moment I saw you in the inner -room yonder, I know not how or wherefore my heart clave to you; and now -knowing you for the son of my true friend, I feel for you the stronger -love. I will tell you now how matters stand with us. I will hide -nothing from you. I am old enough to have learned the last lesson of -experience--the folly of too much suspicion. I will not distrust the -son of Richard O'Connor. I need hardly tell you that those men whom you -saw below stairs are no friends of the ruling powers, but devoted -entirely to the service and the fortunes of the rightful heir of the -throne of England and of Ireland, met here together not without great -peril." - -"I had conjectured as much from what I myself witnessed," rejoined -O'Connor. - -"Well, then, I tell you this--the cause is not a hopeless one; the -exiled king has warm, zealous, and powerful friends where their -existence is least suspected," continued O'Hanlon. "In the Parliament -of England he has a strong and untiring party undetected--some of them, -too, must soon wield the enormous powers of government, and have -already gotten entire possession of the ear of the Queen; and so soon -as events invite, and the time is ripe for action, a mighty and a -sudden constitutional movement will be made in favour of the prince--a -movement entirely constitutional and in the Parliament. This will, -whether successful or not, raise the intolerant party here into fierce -resistance--the resistance of the firelock and the sword; all the -usurpers, the perjurers, and the plunderers who now possess the wealth -and dignities of this spoiled and oppressed country, will arise in -terror to defend their booty, and unless met and encountered, and -defeated by the party of the young king in this island, will embolden -the malignant rebels of the sister country to imitate their example, -and so overawe the Parliament, and frustrate their beneficent -intentions. To us, therefore, has fallen the humbler but important task -of organizing here, in the heart of this country, and in entire -secrecy, a power sufficient for the occasion. Fain would I have thee -along with us in so great and good a work, but will not urge you now; -think upon it, however--it is not so mad a scheme as you may have -thought, but such a one as looked on calmly, with the cold eye of -reason, seems practicable--ay, sure of success. Ponder the matter, -then; give me no answer now--I will take none--but think well upon it, -and after a week, and not sooner, when you have decided, tell me -whether you will be one of us or not. Meanwhile, I have other matters -to tell you of, in which perhaps your young heart will take a nearer -interest." - -He paused, and having replenished their glasses, and thrown a fresh -supply of wood upon the fire, he continued,-- - -"Are you acquainted with a family named Ashwoode?" - -"Yes," replied O'Connor, quickly, "I have known them long." - -O'Hanlon looked searchingly at the young man, and then continued,-- - -"Yes," said he, "I see it is even so--your face betrays it--you loved -the young lady, Mary Ashwoode--deny it not--I am your friend, and seek -not idly or without purpose thus to question you. What thought you of -Henry Ashwoode, now Sir Henry Ashwoode?" - -"He was latterly much--_entirely_ my friend," replied O'Connor. - -"He so professed himself?" asked O'Hanlon. - -"Ay," replied O'Connor, somewhat surprised at the tone in which the -question was put, "he did so profess himself, and repeatedly." - -"He is a villain--he has betrayed you," said the elder man, sternly. - -"How--what--a villain! Henry Ashwoode deceive me?" said O'Connor, -turning pale as death. - -"Yes--unless I've been strangely practised on--he has villainously -deceived alike you and his own sister--pretending friendship, he has -sowed distrust between you." - -"But have you evidence of what you say?" cried O'Connor. "Gracious -God--what have I done!" - -"I have evidence, and you shall hear and judge of it yourself," replied -O'Hanlon; "you cannot hear it to-night, however, nor I produce it--you -need some rest, and so in truth do I--make use of that poor bed--a -tired brain and weary body need no luxurious couch--I shall see you in -the morning betimes--till then farewell." - -The young man would fain have detained O'Hanlon, and spoken with him, -but in vain. - -"We have talked enough for this night," said the elder man--"I have it -not in my power now to satisfy you--I shall, however, in the morning--I -have taken measures for the purpose--good-night." - -So saying, O'Hanlon left the chamber, and closed the door upon his -young friend, now less than ever disposed to slumber. - -He threw himself upon the pallet, the victim of a thousand harassing -and exciting thoughts--sleep was effectually banished; and at length, -tired of the fruitless attitude of repose which he courted in vain, he -arose and resumed his seat by the hearth, in anxious and weary -expectation of the morning. - -At length the red light of the dawn broke over the smoky city, and with -a dusky glow the foggy sun emerged from the horizon of chimney-tops, -and threw his crimson mantle of ruddy light over the hoary thorn-wood -and the shattered mansion, beneath whose roof had passed the scenes we -have just described. Never did the sick wretch, who in sleepless -anguish has tossed and fretted through the tedious watches of the -night, welcome the return of day with more cordial greeting than did -O'Connor upon this dusky morn. The time which was to satisfy his doubts -could not now be far distant, and every sound which smote upon his ear -seemed to announce the approach of him who was to dispel them all. - -Weary, haggard, and nervous after the fatigues and agitation of the -previous day--unrefreshed by the slumbers he so much required, his -irritation and excitement were perhaps even greater than under other -circumstances they would have been. The torments of suspense were at -length, however, ended--he did hear steps approach the chamber--the -steps evidently of more than one person--the door opened, and O'Hanlon, -followed by Signor Parucci, entered the room. - -"I believe, young gentleman, you have seen this person before?" said -O'Hanlon, addressing O'Connor, while he glanced at the Italian. - -O'Connor assented. - -"Ah! yees," said the Neapolitan, with a winning smile; "he has see me -vary often. Signor O'Connor--he know me vary well. I am so happy to see -him again--vary--oh! vary." - -"Let Mr. O'Connor know briefly and distinctly what you have already -told me," said O'Hanlon. - -"About the letters?" asked the Italian. - -"Yes, be brief," replied O'Hanlon. - -"Ah! did he not guess?" rejoined the Neapolitan; "_per crilla!_ the -deception succeed, then--vary coning faylow was old Sir Richard--bote -not half so coning as his son, Sir Henry. He never suspect--Mr. -O'Connor never doubt, bote took all the letters and read them just so -as Sir Henry said he would. _Malora!_ what great meesfortune." - -"Parucci, speak plainly to the point; I cannot endure this. Say at once -what has he done--_how_ have I been deceived?" cried O'Connor. - -"You remember when the old gentleman--Mr. Audley, I think he is -call--saw Sir Richard--immediately after that some letters passed -between you and Mees Mary Ashwoode." - -"I do remember it--proceed," replied O'Connor. - -"Mees Mary's letters to you were cold and unkind, and make you think -she did not love you any more," added Parucci. - -"Well, well--say on--say on--for God's sake, man--say on," cried -O'Connor, vehemently. - -"Those letters you got were not written by her," continued the Italian, -coolly; "they were all wat you call _forged_--written by another -person, and planned by Sir Henry and Sir Reechard; and the same way on -the other side--the letters you wrote to her were all stopped, and read -by the same two gentlemen, and other letters written in stead, and she -is breaking her heart, because she thinks you 'av betrayed her, and -given her up--_rotta di collo!_ they 'av make nice work!" - -"Prove this to me, prove it," said O'Connor, wildly, while his eye -burned with the kindling fire of fury. - -"I weel prove it," rejoined Parucci, but with an agitated voice and a -troubled face; "bote, _corpo di Plato_, you weel keel me if I -tell--promise--swear--by your honour--you weel not horte me--you weel -not toche me--swear, Signor, and I weel tell." - -"Miserable caitiff--speak, and quickly--you are safe--I swear it," -rejoined he. - -"Well, then," resumed the Italian, with restored calmness, "I will -prove it so that you cannot doubt any more--it was I that wrote the -letters for them--I, myself--and beside, here is the bundle with all of -them written out for me to copy--most of them by Sir Henry--you know -his hand-writing--you weel see the character--_corbezzoli!_ he is a -great rogue--and you will find all the _real_ letters from you and Mees -Mary that were stopped--I have them here." - -He here disengaged from the deep pocket of his coat, a red leathern -case stamped with golden flowers, and opening it presented it to the -young man. - -With shifting colour and eyes almost blinded with agitation, O'Connor -read and re-read these documents. - -"Where is Ashwoode?" at length he cried; "bring me to him--gracious -God, what a monster I must have appeared--will she--_can_ she ever -forgive me?" - -Disregarding in entire contempt the mean agent of Ashwoode's villainy, -and thinking only of the high-born principal, O'Connor, pale as death, -but with perfect deliberateness, arose and took the sword which the -attendant who conducted him to the room had laid by the wall, and -replacing it at his side, said sternly,-- - -"Bring me to Sir Henry Ashwoode--where is he? I must speak with him." - -"I cannot breeng you to him now," replied Parucci, in internal -ecstasies, "for I cannot say where he is; bote I know vary well where -he weel be to-day after dinner time, in the evening, and I weel breeng -you; bote I hope very moche you are not intending any mischiefs; if I -thought so, I would be vary sorry--oh! vary." - -"Well, be it so, if it may not be sooner," said O'Connor, gloomily, -"this evening at all events he shall account with me." - -"Meanwhile," said O'Hanlon, "you may as well remain here; and when the -time arrives which this Italian fellow names, we can start. I will -accompany you, for in such cases the arm of a friend can do you no harm -and may secure you fair play. Hear me, you Italian scoundrel, remain -here until we are ready to depart with you, and that shall be whenever -you think it time to seek Sir Henry Ashwoode; you shall have enough to -eat and drink meanwhile; depart, and relieve us of your company." - -Signor Parucci smiled sweetly from ear to ear, shrugged, and bowed, and -then glided lightly from the room, exulting in the pleasant conviction -that he had commenced operations against his ungrateful patron, by -involving him in a scrape which must inevitably result in somewhat -unpleasant exposures, and which had beside reduced the question of Sir -Henry's life or death to an even chance. - - - - -CHAPTER XLVII. - -"THE JOLLY BOWLERS"--THE DOUBLE FRAY AND THE FLIGHT. - - -At the time of which we write, there lay at the southern extremity of -the city of Dublin, a bowling-green of fashionable resort, well known -as "Cullen's Green." For greater privacy it was enclosed by a brick -wall of considerable height, which again was surrounded by stately rows -of lofty and ancient elms. A few humble dwellings were clustered about -it; and through one of them, a low, tiled public-house, lay the -entrance into this place of pastime. Thitherward O'Connor and O'Hanlon, -having left their horses at the "Cock and Anchor," were led by the wily -Italian. - -"The players you say, will not stop till dusk," said O'Connor; "we can -go in, and I shall wait until the party have broken up, to speak to -Ashwoode; in the interval we can mix with the spectators, and so escape -remark." - -They were now approaching the little tavern embowered in tufted trees, -and as they advanced, they perceived a number of hack carriages and led -horses congregated upon the road about its entrance. - -"Sir Henry is within; that iron-grey is his horse; _sangue dun dua_, -there is no mistake," observed the Neapolitan. - -The little party entered the humble tavern, but here they were -encountered by a new difficulty. - -"You can't get in to-night, gentlemen--sorry to disappint, gentlemen; -but the green's engaged," said mine host, with an air of mysterious -importance; "a private party, engaged two days since for fear of a -disappint." - -"Are they so strictly private, that they would not suffer two gentlemen -to be spectators of their play?" inquired O'Hanlon. - -"My orders is not to let anyone in, good, bad, or indifferent, while -they are playing the match; that's _my_ orders," replied the man; -"sorry to disappint, but can't break my word with the gentlemen, you -know." - -"Is there any other entrance into the bowling-green?" inquired -O'Connor, "except through that door." - -"Divil a one, sir, where would it be?--divil a one, gentlemen," replied -mine host, "no other way in or out." - -"We will rest ourselves here for a time, then," said O'Connor. - -Accordingly the party seated themselves in the low-roofed chamber -through which the bowlers on quitting the ground must necessarily pass; -and calling for some liquor to prevent suspicion, moodily awaited the -appearance of the young baronet and his companions. Many a stern, -impatient glance of expectation did O'Connor direct to the old door -which alone separated him from the traitor and hypocrite who had with -such monstrous fraud practised upon his unsuspecting confidence. At -length he heard gay laughter and the tread of many feet approaching; -the proprietor of "The Jolly Bowlers" opened the door, and several -merry groups passed them by and took their departure, but O'Connor's -eye in vain sought among them the form of young Ashwoode. - -"I see the grey horse still at the door; I know it as well as I know my -own hand," said the Italian; "as sure as I am leeving man, Sir Henry is -there still." - -After an interval so considerable that O'Connor almost despaired of the -appearance of Ashwoode, voices were again audible, and steps -approaching the door-way at a slow pace; the time between the first -approach of those sounds, and the actual appearance of those who caused -them, appeared to the overwrought anxiety of O'Connor all but -interminable. At length, however, two figures entered from the -bowling-green--the one was that of a spare but dignified-looking man, -somewhat advanced in years, but carrying in his countenance a singular -expression of jollity and good humour--the other was that of Sir Henry -Ashwoode. - -"God be thanked," said O'Hanlon, grasping the hilt of his sword, "here -comes the perjured villain Wharton." - -O'Connor had another object, however, and beheld no one existing thing -but only the now hated form of his false friend; both he and O'Hanlon -started to their feet as the two figures entered the small and darksome -room. O'Connor threw himself directly in their path and said,-- - -"Sir Henry Ashwoode, a word with you." - -The appeal was startling and unexpected, and there was in the voice and -attitude of him who uttered it, something of deep, intense, constrained -passion and resolution, which made the two companions involuntarily and -suddenly check their advance. One moment sufficed for Sir Henry to -recognize O'Connor, and another convinced him that his quondam friend -had discovered his treachery, and was there to unmask, perhaps to -punish him. His presence of mind, however, seldom, if ever, forsook him -in such scenes as this--he instantly resolved upon the tone in which to -meet his injured antagonist. - -"Pray, sir," said he, with stern _hauteur_, "upon what ground do you -presume to throw yourself thus menacingly in my way? Move aside and let -me pass, or your rashness shall cost you dearly." - -"Ashwoode--Sir Henry--you well know there is one consideration which -would unstring my arm if lifted against your life--you presume upon the -forbearance which this respect commands," said O'Connor. "Promise but -this--that you will undeceive your sister, whom you have practised upon -as cruelly as you have on me, and I will call you to no further -account, and inflict no further humiliation." - -"Very good, sir, very magnanimous, and exceedingly tragic," rejoined -Ashwoode, scornfully. "Turn aside, sirrah, and leave my path open, or -by the ---- you shall rue it." - -"I will not leave the spot on which I stand but with my life, except on -the conditions I have named," replied O'Connor. - -"Once more, before I _strike_ you, leave the way," cried Ashwoode, -whose constitutional pugnacity began to be thoroughly aroused. "Turn -aside, sirrah! How dare you confront gentlemen--insolent beggar, how -dare you!" - -Yielding to the furious impulse of the moment, Sir Henry Ashwoode drew -his sword, and with the naked blade struck his antagonist twice with no -sparing hand. The passions which O'Connor had, with all his energy, -hitherto striven to master, would now brook restraint no longer; at -this last extremity of insult the blood sprang from his heart in fiery -currents and tingled through every vein; every feeling but the one -deadly sense of outraged pride, of repeated wrong, followed and -consummated by one degrading and intolerable outrage, vanished from his -mind. With the speed of light his sword was drawn and presented at -Ashwoode's breast. Each threw himself into the cautious attitude of -deadly vigilance, and quick as lightning the bright blades crossed and -clashed in the mortal rivalry of cunning fence. Each party was -possessed of consummate skill in the use of the fatal weapon which he -wielded, and several times in the course of the fierce debate, so -evenly were they matched, the two, as by voluntary accommodation, -paused in the conflict to take breath. - -With faces pale as death with rage, and a consciousness of the deadly -issue in which alone the struggle could end, and with eyes that glared -like those of savage beasts at bay, each eyed the other. Thus -alternately they paused and renewed the combat, and for long, with -doubtful fortune. In the position of the antagonists there was, -however, an inequality, and, as it turned out, a decisive one--the door -through which Ashwoode and his companion had entered, and to which his -back was turned, lay open, and the light which it admitted fell full in -O'Connor's eyes. This, as all who have handled the foil can tell, is a -disadvantage quite sufficient to determine even a less nicely balanced -contest than that of which we write. After several pauses in the -combat, and as many desperate renewals of it, Ashwoode, in one quick -lunge, passed his blade through his opponent's sword-arm. Though the -blood flowed plenteously, neither party seemed inclined to abate his -deadly efforts. O'Connor's arm began to grow stiff and weak, and the -energy and quickness of his action impaired; the consequences of this -were soon exhibited. Ashwoode lunged twice or thrice rapidly, and one -of these passes, being imperfectly parried, took effect in his -opponent's breast. O'Connor staggered backward, and his hand and eye -faltered for a moment; but he quickly recovered, and again advanced and -again with the same result. Faint, dizzy, and half blind, but with -resolution and rage, enhanced by defeat, he staggered forward again, -wild and powerless, and was received once more upon the point of his -adversary's sword. He reeled back, stood for a moment, his sword -dropped upon the ground, and he shook his empty hand in fruitless -menace at his triumphant antagonist, and then rolled headlong upon the -pavement, insensible, and weltering in gore--the combat was over. - -Ashwoode and O'Connor had hardly crossed their weapons when O'Hanlon -sprang forward and sternly accosted Lord Wharton, for it was no other, -who accompanied Ashwoode. - -"My lord, you need not interfere," said he, observing a movement on -Lord Wharton's part as if he would have separated the combatants. "This -is a question which all your diplomacy will not arrange--they will -fight it to the end. If you give them not fair play while I secure the -door, I will send my sword through your excellency's body." - -So saying, O'Hanlon drew his weapon, and keeping occasional watch upon -Wharton--who, however, did not exhibit any further disposition to -interfere--he strode to the outer door, which opened upon the public -road, and to prevent interruption from that quarter, drew the bar and -secured it effectually. - -"Now, my lord," said he, returning and resuming his position, "I have -secured this fortunate meeting against intrusion. What think you, while -our friends are thus engaged, were we, for warmth and exercise sake, -likewise to cross our blades? Will your lordship condescend to gratify -a simple gentleman so far?" - -"Out upon you, fellow; know you who I am?" said Wharton, with sturdy -good-humour. - -"I know thee well, Lord Wharton--a wily, selfish, double-dealing -politician; a profligate in morals; an infidel in religion; and a -traitor in politics. I know thee--who doth not?" - -"Landlord," said Wharton, turning toward that personage, who, with -amazement, irresolution, and terror in his face, inspected these -violent proceedings, "landlord, I say, call in a lackey or two; I'll -bring this ruffian to reason quickly. Have you gotten a pump in the -neighbourhood? Landlord, I say, bestir thyself, or, by ----, I'll spur -thee with my sword-point." - -"Stir not, if you would keep your life," said O'Hanlon, in a tone which -the half-stupefied host of "The Jolly Bowlers" dared not disobey. "If -you would not suffer death upon the spot where you stand, do not -attempt to move one step, nor to speak one word. My lord," he -continued, "I am right glad of this rencounter. I would have freely -given half what I possess in the world to have secured it. Believe me, -I will not leave it unimproved. My lord, in plain terms, for ten -thousand reasons I desire your death, and will not leave this place -till I have striven to effect it. Draw your sword, if you be a man; -draw your sword, unless cowardice has come to crown your vices." - -O'Hanlon drew his sword, and allowing Wharton hardly time sufficient to -throw himself into an attitude of defence, he attacked him with deadly -resolution. It was well for the viceroy that he was an expert -swordsman, otherwise his career would undoubtedly have been abruptly -terminated upon the floor of "The Jolly Bowlers." As it was, he -received a thrust right through the shoulder, and staggering back, -stumbled and fell upon the uneven pavement which studded the floor. -This occurred almost at the same moment with O'Connor's fall, and -believing that he had mortally hurt his noble antagonist, O'Hanlon, -without stopping to look about him hastily lifted his fallen and -senseless companion from the pavement and bore him in his arms through -the outer door, which the landlord had at length found resolution -enough to unbar. Fortunately a hackney coach stood there waiting for a -chance job from some of the aristocratic bowlers within, and in this -vehicle he hurriedly deposited his inanimate burden, and desiring the -coachman to drive for his life into the city, sprang into the -conveyance himself. Irishmen are proverbially ready at all times to aid -an escape from the fangs of justice, and without pausing to ask a -question, the coachman, to whom the sight of blood and of the naked -sword, which O'Hanlon still carried, was warrant sufficient, mounted -the box with incredible speed, pressed his hat firmly down upon his -brows, shook the reins, and lashed his horses till they smoked again; -and thus, at a gallop, O'Hanlon and his bleeding companion thundered -onward toward the city. Ashwoode did not interfere to stay the -fugitives, for he was not sorry to be relieved of the embarrassment -which he foresaw in having the body of his victim left, as it were, in -his charge. He therefore gladly witnessed its removal, and addressed -himself to Lord Wharton, who was rising with some difficulty from his -prostrate position. - -"Are you hurt, my lord?" inquired Ashwoode, kneeling by his side and -assisting him to rise. - -"Hush! nothing--a mere scratch. Above all things, make no row about it. -By ----, I would not for worlds that anything were heard of it. -Fortunately, this accident is a trivial one--the blood flows rather -fast, though. Let's get into a coach, if, indeed, the scoundrels have -not run away with the last of them." - -They found one, however, at the door, and getting in with all -convenient dispatch, desired the man to drive slowly toward the castle. - - - - -CHAPTER XLVIII. - -THE STAINED RUFFLES. - - -We must now return for a brief space to Morley Court. The apartment -which lay beneath what had been Sir Richard Ashwoode's bed-chamber, and -in which Mary and her gay cousin, Emily Copland, had been wont to sit -and work, and read and sing together, had grown to be considered, by -long-established usage, the rightful and exclusive property of the -ladies of the family, and had been surrendered up to their private -occupation and absolute control. Around it stood full many a quaint -cabinet of dark old wood, shining like polished jet, little bookcases, -and tall old screens, and music stands, and drawing tables. These, -along with a spinet and a guitar, and countless other quaint and pretty -sundries indicating the habitual presence of feminine refinement and -taste, abundantly furnished the chamber. In the window stood some -choice and fragrant flowers, and the light fell softly upon the carpet -through the clustering bowers of creeping plants which mantled the -outer wall, in sombre rivalry of the full damask curtains, whose -draperies hung around the deep receding casements. - -Here sat Mary Ashwoode, as the evening, whose tragic events we have in -our last chapter described, began to close over the old manor of Morley -Court. Her embroidery had been thrown aside, and lay upon the table, -and a book, which she had been reading, was open before her; but her -eyes now looked pensively through the window upon the fair, sad -landscape, clothed in the warm and melancholy tints of evening. Her -graceful arm leaned upon the table, and her small, white hand supported -her head and mingled in the waving tresses of her dark hair. - -"At what hour did my brother promise to return?" said she, addressing -herself to her maid, who was listlessly arranging some books in the -little book-case. - -"Well, I declare and purtest, I can't rightly remember," rejoined the -maid, cocking her head on one side reflectively, and tapping her -eyebrow to assist her recollection. "I don't think, my lady, he named -any hour precisely; but at any rate, you may be sure he'll not be long -away now." - -"I thought he said seven o'clock," continued Mary; "would he were come! -I feel very solitary to-day; and this evening we might pass happily -together, for that strange man will not return to-night--he said so--my -brother told me so." - -"I believe Mr. Blarden changed his mind, my lady," said the maid; "for -I know he gave orders before he went for a fire in his room to-night." - -Even as she spoke she heard Sir Henry's step upon the stairs, and her -brother entered the room. - -"Harry, Harry, I am so glad to see you," said she, running lightly to -him and throwing her arms around his neck. "Come, come, sit you down -beside me; we shall be happy together at least for this evening. Come, -Harry, come." - -So saying she led him, passive and gloomy, to the fireside, and drew a -chair beside that into which he had thrown himself. - -"Dear brother, the time seemed so very tedious to-day while you were -away," said she. "I thought it would never pass. Why are you so silent -and thoughtful, brother? has anything happened to vex you?" - -"Nothing," said he, glancing at her with a strange expression--"nothing -to vex me--no, nothing--perhaps the contrary." - -"Dear brother, have you heard good news? Come and tell me," said she; -"though I fear from the sadness of your face you do but flatter me. -Have you, Harry--have you heard or seen anything that gave you -comfort?" - -"No, not comfort; I know not what I say. Have you any wine here?" said -Ashwoode, hurriedly; "I am tired and thirsty." - -"No, not here," answered she, somewhat surprised at the oddity of the -question, as well as by the abruptness and abstraction of his manner. - -"Carey," said he, "run down--bring wine quickly; I'm exhausted--quite -wearied. I have played more at bowls this afternoon than I've done for -years," he added, addressing his sister as the maid departed on her -errand. - -"You do look very pale, brother," said she, "and your dress is all -disordered; and, gracious God!--see all the ruffles of this hand are -steeped in blood--brother, brother, for God's sake--are you hurt?" - -"Hurt--I--?" said he hastily, and endeavouring to smile! "no, indeed--I -hurt! far be it from me--this blood is none of mine; one of our party -scratched his hand, and I bound his handkerchief round the wound, and -in so doing contracted these tragic spots that startle you so. No, no, -believe me, when I am hurt I will make no secret of it. Carey, pour -some wine into that glass--fill it--fill it, child--there," and he -drank it off--"fill it again--so two or three more, and I shall be -quite myself again. How snug this room of yours is, Mary." - -"Yes, brother, I am very fond of it; it is a pleasant old room, and one -that has often seen me happier than I shall be again," said she, with a -sigh; "but do you feel better? has the wine refreshed you? You still -look pale," she added, with fears not yet half quieted. - -"Yes, Mary, I am refreshed," he said, with a sudden and reckless burst -of strange merriment that shocked her; "I could play the match through -again--I could leap, and laugh and sing;" and then he added quickly in -an altered voice--"has Blarden returned?" - -"No," said she; "I thought you said he would remain in town to-night." - -"I said wrong if I said so at all," replied Ashwoode; "and if he _did_ -intend to stay in town he has changed his plans--he will be here this -evening; I thought I should have found him here on my return; I expect -him every moment." - -"When, dear brother, is this visit of his to end?" asked the girl -imploringly. - -"Not for weeks--for months, I hope," replied Ashwoode drily and -quickly; "why do you inquire, pray?" - -"Simply because I wish it were ended, brother," answered she sadly; -"but if it vexes you I will ask no more." - -"It _does_ vex me, then," said Ashwoode, sternly; "it _does_, and you -know it"--he accompanied these words with a look even more savage than -the tone in which he had uttered them, and a silence of some minutes -followed. - -Ashwoode desired nothing so much as to speak with his sister -intelligibly upon the subject of Blarden's designs, and of his own -entire approval of them; but, somehow, often as he had resolved upon -it, he had never yet approached the topic, even in imagination, in his -sister's presence, without feeling himself unnerved and abashed. He now -strove to fret himself into a rage, in the instinctive hope that under -the influence of this stimulus he might find nerve to broach the -subject in plain terms; he strode quickly to and fro across the floor, -casting from time to time many an angry glance at the poor girl, and -seeking by every mechanical agency to work himself into a passion. - -"And so it is come to this at last," said he, vehemently, "that I may -not invite my friends to my own house; or that if I dare to do so, they -shall necessarily be exposed to the constant contempt and rudeness of -those who ought to be their entertainers; all their advances towards -acquaintance met with a hoity-toity, repulsive impertinence, and -themselves treated with a marked and insulting avoidance, shunned as -though they had the plague. I tell you now plainly, once for all, _I -will_ be master in my own house; you shall treat my guests with -attention and respect; you must do so; I command you; you shall find -that I am master here." - -"No doubt of it, by ----," ejaculated Nicholas Blarden, himself -entering the room at the termination of Ashwoode's stormy harangue; -"but where the devil is the good of roaring that way? your sister is -not deaf, I suppose? Mistress Mary, your most obedient----" - -Mary did not wait for further conference; but rising with a proud mien -and a burning cheek, she left the room and went quickly to her own -chamber, where she threw herself into a chair, covered her eyes with -her hands, and burst into an agony of weeping. - -"Well, but she _is_ a fine wench," cried Nicholas Blarden, as soon as -she had disappeared. "The tantarums become her better than good -humour;" so saying, he half filled Ashwoode's glass with wine, and -rinsed it into the fireplace; then coolly filled a bumper and quaffed -it off, and then another and another. - -"Sit down here and listen to me," said he to Ashwoode, in that -insolent, domineering tone which he so loved to employ in accosting -him, "sit down here, I say, young man, and listen to me while I give -you a bit of my mind." - -Ashwoode, who knew too well the consequences of even murmuring under -the tyranny of his task-master, in silence did as he was commanded. - -"I tell you what it is," said Blarden, "I don't like the way this -affair is going on; the girl avoids me; I don't know her, by ----, a -curse better to-day than I did the first day I came into the house; -this won't do, you know; it will never do; you had better strike out -some expeditious plan, or it's very possible I may tire of the whole -concern and cut it back, do you mind; you had better sharpen your wits, -my fine fellow." - -"The fault is your own," said Ashwoode gloomily; "if you desire -expedition, you can command it, by yourself speaking to her; you have -not as yet even hinted at your intentions, nor by any one act made her -acquainted with your designs; let her see that you like her; let her -understand you; you have never done so yet." - -"She's infernally proud," said Blarden, "just as proud as yourself: but -we know a knack, don't we, for bringing pride to its senses? Eh? -Nothing, I believe, Sir Henry, like _fear_ in such cases; don't you -think so? I've known it succeed sometimes to a miracle--fear of one -kind or another is the only way we have of working men or women. Mind I -tell you she must be frightened, and well frightened too, or she'll run -rusty. I have a knack with me--a kind of gift--of frightening people -when I have a fancy; and if you're in earnest, as I guess you pretty -well are, between us we'll tame her." - -"It were not advisable to proceed at once to extremities," said -Ashwoode, who, spite of his constitutional selfishness, felt some odd -sensations, and not of the pleasantest kind, while they thus conversed. -"You must begin by showing your wishes in your manner; be attentive to -her; and, in short, let her unequivocally see the nature of your -intentions; _tell_ her that you want to marry her; and when she -refuses, then it is time enough to commence those--those--other -operations at which you hint." - -"Well, d----n me, but there is some sense in what you say," observed -Blarden, filling his glass again. "Umph! perhaps I've been rather -backward; I believe I _have_; she's coy, shy, and a proud little -baggage withal--I like her the better for it--and requires a lot of -wooing before she's won; well, I'll make myself clear on to-morrow. I'm -blessed if she sha'n't understand me beyond the possibility of question -or doubt; and if she won't listen to reason, _then_ we'll see whether -there isn't a way to break her spirit if she was as proud as the -Queen." With these words Blarden arose and drained the flask of wine, -then observed authoritatively,-- - -"Get the cards and follow me to the parlour. I want something to amuse -me; be quick, d'ye hear?" - -And so saying he took his departure, followed by Sir Henry Ashwoode, -whose condition was now more thoroughly abject and degraded than that -of a purchased slave. - - - - -CHAPTER XLIX. - -OLD SONGS--THE UNWELCOME LISTENER--THE BARONET'S PLEDGE. - - -Next day Mary Ashwoode sat alone in the same room in which she had been -so unpleasantly intruded upon on the evening before. The unkindness of -her brother had caused her many a bitter tear during the past night, -and although still entirely in the dark as to Blarden's designs, there -was yet something in his manner during the brief moment of their -yesterday evening's rencontre which alarmed her, and suggested, in a -few hurried and fevered dreams which troubled her broken slumbers of -the night past, his dreaded image in a hundred wild and fantastic -adventures. - -She sat, as we have already said, alone in the self-same room, and as -mechanically she pursued her work, her thoughts were far away, and -wherever they turned still were they clouded with anxiety and sorrow. -Wearied at length with the monotony of an occupation which availed not -even momentarily to draw her attention from the griefs which weighed -upon her, she threw her work aside, and taking the guitar which in -gayer hours had often yielded its light music to her touch, and trying -to forget the consciousness of her changed and lonely existence in the -happier recollections which returned in these once familiar sounds, she -played and sang the simple melodies which had been her favourites long -ago; but while thus her hands strayed over the chords of the -instrument, and the low and silvery cadences of her sweet voice -recalled many a touching remembrance of the past, she was startled and -recalled at once from her momentary forgetfulness of the present by a -voice close behind her which exclaimed,-- - -"Capital--never a better--encore, encore;" and on looking hurriedly -round, her glance at once encountered and recognized the form and -features of Nicholas Blarden. "Go on, go on, do," said that gentleman -in his most engaging way, and with an amorous grin; "do--go on, can't -you--by ----, I'm half sorry I said a word." - -"I--I would rather not," stammered she, rising and colouring; "I have -played and sung enough--too much already." - -"No, no, not at all," continued Blarden, warming as he proceeded; "hang -me, no such thing, you were just going on strong when I came in--come, -come, I won't _let_ you stop." - -Her heart swelled with indignation at the coarse, familiar insolence of -his manner; but she made no other answer than that conveyed by laying -down the instrument, and turning from it and him. - -"Well, rot me, but this is too bad," continued he, playfully; "come, -take it up again--come, you _must_ tip us another stave, young -lady--do--curse me if I heard half your songs, you're a perfect -nightingale." - -So saying he took up the guitar, and followed her with it towards the -fireplace. - -"Come, you won't refuse, eh?--I'm in earnest," he continued; "upon my -soul and oath I want to hear more of it." - -"I have already told you, sir," said Mary Ashwoode, "that I do not wish -to play or sing any more at present. I am sure you are not aware, Mr. -Blarden, that this is my private apartment; no one visits me here -uninvited, and at present I wish to be alone." - -Thus speaking, she resumed her seat and her work, and sat in perfect -silence, her heaving breast and glowing cheeks alone betraying the -strength of her emotions. - -"Ho, ho! rot me, but she's sulky," cried Blarden, with a horse-laugh, -while he flung the guitar carelessly upon the table; "sure you wouldn't -turn me out--that would be very hard usage, and no mistake. Eh! Miss -Mary?" - -Mary continued to ply her silks in silence, and Blarden threw himself -into a chair opposite to her. - -"I like to rise you--hang me, if I don't," said Blarden, -exultingly--"you are always a snug-looking bit of goods, but when your -blood's up, you're a downright beauty--rot me, but you are--why the -devil don't you talk to me--eh?" he added, more roughly than he had yet -spoken. - -Mary Ashwoode began now to feel seriously alarmed at the man's manner, -and as her eyes encountered his gloating gaze, her colour came and went -in quick succession. - -"Confoundedly pretty, sure enough, and well you know it, too," -continued he--"curse me, but you _are_ a fine wench--and I'll tell you -what's more--I'm more than half in love with you at this minute, may -the devil have me but I am." - -Thus speaking, he drew his chair nearer hers. - -"Mr. Blarden--sir--I insist on your leaving me," said Mary, now -thoroughly frightened. - -"And _I_ insist on _not_ leaving you," replied Blarden, with an -insolent chuckle--"so it's a fair trial of strength between us, -eh?--ho, ho, what are you afraid of?--stick up to your fight--do -then--I like you all the better for your spirit--confound me but I do." - -He advanced his chair still nearer to that on which she was seated. - -"Well, but you _do_ look pretty, by Jove," he exclaimed. "I like _you_, -and I am determined to make you like _me_--I am--you _shall_ like me." - -He arose, and approached her with a half amorous, half menacing air. - -Pale as death, Mary Ashwoode arose also, and moved with hurried, -trembling steps towards the door. He made a movement as if to intercept -her exit, but checked the impulse, and contented himself with observing -with a scowl of spite and disappointment, as she passed from the -room,-- - -"Pride will have a fall, my fine lady--you'll be tame enough yet for -all your tantarums, by Jove." - -Breathless with haste and agitation, Mary reached the study, where she -knew her brother was now generally to be found. He was there engaged in -the miserable labour of looking through accounts and letters, in -arranging the complicated records of his own ruin. - -"Brother," said she, running to his side with the earnestness of deep -agitation, "brother, listen to me." - -He raised his eyes, and at a glance easily divined the cause of her -excitement. - -"Well," said he, "speak on--I hear." - -"Brother," she resumed, "that man--that Mr. Blarden, came uninvited -into my study; he was at first very coarse and free in his manner--very -disagreeable and impudent--he refused to leave me when I requested him -to do so, and every moment became more and more insolent--his manner -and language terrified me. Brother, dear brother, you must not expose -me to another such scene as that which has just passed." - -Ashwoode paused for a good while, with the pen still in his fingers, -and his eyes fixed abstractedly upon his sister's pale face. At length -he said,-- - -"Do you wish me to make this a quarrel with Blarden? Was there enough -to warrant a--a duel?" - -He well knew, however, that he was safe in putting the question, and in -anticipating her answer, he calculated rightly the strength of his -sister's affection for him. - -"Oh! no, no, brother--no!" she cried, with imploring terror; "dear -brother, you are everything to me now. No, no; promise that you will -not!" - -"Well, well, I do," said Ashwoode; "but how would you have me act?" - -"Do not ask this man to prolong his visit," replied she; "or if he -must, at least let me go elsewhere while he remains here." - -"You have but one female relative in Ireland with a house to receive -you," rejoined Ashwoode, "and that is Lady Stukely; and I have reason -to think she would not like to have you as a guest just now." - -"Dear Harry--dear brother, think of some place," said she, with earnest -entreaty. "I now feel secure nowhere; that rude man, the very sight of -whom affrights me, will not forbear to intrude upon my privacy; -alone--in my own little room--anywhere in this house--I am equally -liable to his intrusions and his rudeness. Dear brother, take pity on -me--think of some place." - -"Curse that beast Blarden!" muttered Sir Henry Ashwoode, between his -teeth. "Will nothing ever teach the ruffian one particle of tact or -common sense? What good end could he possibly propose to himself by -terrifying the girl?" - -Ashwoode bit his lips and frowned, while he thought the matter over. At -length he said,-- - -"I shall speak to Blarden immediately. I begin to think that the man is -not fit company for civilized people. I think we must get rid of him at -whatever temporary inconvenience, without actual rudeness. Without -anything approaching to a quarrel, I can shorten his visit. He shall -leave this either to-night or before seven o'clock to-morrow morning." - -"And you promise there shall be no quarrel--no violence?" urged she. - -"Yes, Mary, I do promise," rejoined Ashwoode. - -"Dear, dear brother, you have set my heart at rest," cried she. "Yes, -you _are_ my own dear brother--my protector!" And with all the warmth -and enthusiasm of unsuspecting love, she threw her arms around his neck -and kissed her betrayer. - -Mary had scarcely left the room in which Sir Henry Ashwoode was seated, -when he perceived Blarden sauntering among the trees by the window, -with his usual swagger; the young man put on his hat and walked quickly -forth to join him; as soon as he had come up with him, Blarden turned, -and anticipating him, said,-- - -"Well, I _have_ spoken out, and I think she understands me too; at any -rate, if she don't, it's no fault of mine." - -"I wish you had managed it better," said Ashwoode; "there is a way of -doing these things. You have frightened the foolish girl half out of -her wits." - -"Have I, though?" exclaimed Blarden, with a triumphant grin. "She's -just the girl we want--easily cowed. I'm glad to hear it. We'll manage -her--we'll bring her into training before a week--hang me, but we -will." - -"You began a little too soon, though," urged Ashwoode; "you ought to -have tried gentle means first." - -"Devil the morsel of good in them," rejoined Blarden. "I see well -enough how the wind sits--she don't like me; and I haven't time to -waste in wooing. Once we're buckled, she'll be fond enough of me; -matrimony 'll turn out smooth enough--I'll take devilish good care of -that; but the courtship will be the devil's tough business. We must -begin the taming system off-hand; there's no use in shilly shally." - -"I tell you," rejoined Ashwoode, "you have been too precipitate--I -speak, of course, merely in relation to the policy and expediency of -the thing. I don't mean to pretend that constraint may not become -necessary hereafter; but just now, and before our plans are well -considered, and our arrangements made, I think it was injudicious to -frighten her so. She was talking of leaving the house and going to Lady -Stukely's, or, in short, anywhere rather than remain here." - -"Threaten to run away, did she?" cried Blarden, with a whistle of -surprise which passed off into a chuckle. - -"Yes, in plain terms, she said so," rejoined Ashwoode. - -"Then just turn the key upon her at once," replied Blarden--"lock her -up--let her measure her rambles by the four walls of her room! Hang me, -if I can see the difficulty." - -Ashwoode remained silent, and they walked side by side for a time -without exchanging a word. - -"Well, I believe I'm right," cried Blarden, at length; "I think our -game is plain enough, eh? Don't let her budge an inch. Do you act -turnkey, and I'll pay her a visit once a day for fear she'd forget -me--I'll be her father confessor, eh?--ho, ho!--and between us I think -we'll manage to bring her to before long." - -"We must take care before we proceed to this extremity that all our -agents are trustworthy," said Ashwoode. "There is no immediate danger -of her attempting an escape, for I told her that you were leaving this -either to-night or to-morrow morning, and she's now just as sure as if -we had her under lock and key." - -"Well, what do you advise? Can't you speak out? What's all the delay to -lead to?" said Blarden. - -"Merely that we shall have time to adjust our schemes," replied -Ashwoode; "there is more to be done than perhaps you think of. We must -cut off all possibility of correspondence with friends out of doors, -and we must guard against suspicion among the servants; they are all -fond of her, and there is no knowing what mischief might be done even -by the most contemptible agents. Some little preparation before we -employ coercion is absolutely indispensable." - -"Well, then, you'd have me keep out of the way," said Blarden. "But -mind you, I won't leave this; I like to have my own eye upon my own -business." - -"There is no reason why you should leave it," rejoined Ashwoode. "The -weather is now cold and broken, so that Mary will seldom leave the -house; and when she remains in it, she is almost always in the little -drawing-room with her work, and books, and music; with the slightest -precaution you can effectually avoid her for a few days." - -"Well, then, agreed--done and done--a fair go on both sides," replied -Blarden, "but it must not be too long; knock out some scheme that will -wind matters up within a fortnight at furthest; be lively, or she shall -lead apes, and you swing as sure as there's six sides to a die." - - - - -CHAPTER L. - -THE PRESS IN THE WALL. - - -Larry Toole, having visited in vain all his master's usual haunts, -returned in the evening of that day on which we last beheld him, to the -"Cock and Anchor," in a state of extreme depression and desolateness. - -"By the holy man," said Larry, in reply to the inquiries of the groom, -who encountered him at the yard gate, "he's gone as clane as a whistle. -It's dacent thratement, so it is--gone, and laves me behind to rummage -the town for him, and divil a sign of him, good or bad. I'm fairly -burstin' with emotions. Why did he make off with himself? Why the devil -did he desart me? There's no apology for sich minewvers, nor no excuse -in the wide world, anless, indeed, he happened to be dhrounded or -dhrunk. I'm fairly dry with the frettin'. Come in with me, and we'll -have a sorrowful pot iv strong ale together by the kitchen fire; for, -bedad, I want something badly." - -Accordingly the two worthies entered the great old kitchen, and by the -genial blaze of its cheering hearth, they discussed at length the -probabilities of recovering Larry's lost master. - -"Usedn't he to take a run out now and again to Morley Court?" inquired -the groom; "you told me so." - -"By the hokey," exclaimed Larry, with sudden alacrity, "there is some -sinse in what you say--bedad, there is. I don't know how in the world I -didn't think iv going out there to-day. But no matter, I'll do it -to-morrow." - -And in accordance with this resolution, upon the next day, early in the -forenoon, Mr. Toole pursued his route toward the old manor-house. As he -approached the domain, however, he slackened his pace, and, with -extreme hesitation and caution, began to loiter toward the mansion, -screening his approach as much as possible among the thick brushwood -which skirted the rich old timber that clothed the slopes and hollows -of the manor in irregular and stately masses. Sheltered in his post of -observation, Larry lounged about until he beheld Sir Henry emerge from -the hall door and join Nicholas Blarden in the _tête-à-tête_ which we -have in our last chapter described. Our romantic friend no sooner -beheld this occurrence, than he felt all his uneasiness at once -dispelled. He marched rapidly to the hall door, which remained open, -and forthwith entered the house. He had hardly reached the interior of -the hall, when he was encountered by no less a person than the fair -object of his soul's idolatry, the beauteous Mistress Betsy Carey. - -"La, Mr. Laurence," cried she, with an affected start, "you're always -turning up like a ghost, when you're least expected." - -"By the powers of Moll Kelly!" rejoined Larry, with fervour, "it's more -and more beautiful, the Lord be merciful to us, you're growin' every -day you live. What the divil will you come to at last?" - -"Well, Mr. Toole," rejoined she, relaxing into a gracious smile, "but -you do talk more nonsense than any ten beside. I wonder at you, so I -do, Mr. Toole. Why don't you have a discreeterer way of conversation -and discourse?" - -"Och! murdher!--heigho! beautiful Betsy," sighed Larry, rapturously. - -"Did you walk, Mr. Toole?" inquired the maiden. - -"I did so," rejoined Larry. - -"Young master's just gone out," continued the maid. - -"So I seen, jewel," replied Mr. Toole. - -"An' you may as well come into the parlour, an' have some drink and -victuals," added she, with an encouraging smile. - -"Is there no fear of his coming in on me?" inquired Larry, cautiously. - -"Tilly vally, man, who are you afraid of?" exclaimed the handmaiden, -cheerily. "Come, Mr. Toole, you used not to be so easily frightened." - -"I'll never be afraid to folly your lead, most beautiful and -bewildhering iv famales," ejaculated Mr. Toole, gallantly. "So here -goes; folly on, and I'll attind you behind." - -Accordingly, they both entered the great parlour, where the table bore -abundant relics of a plenteous meal, and Mistress Betsy Carey, with her -own fair hands, placed a chair for him at the table, and heaping a -plate with cold beef and bread, laid it before her grateful swain, -along with a foaming tankard of humming ale. The maid was gracious, and -the beef delicious; his ears drank in her accents, and his throat her -ale, and his heart and mouth were equally full. Thus, in a condition as -nearly as human happiness can approach to unalloyed felicity, realizing -the substantial bliss of Mahomet's paradise, Mr. Toole ogled and ate, -and glanced and guzzled in soft rapture, until the force of nature -could no further go on, and laying down his knife and fork, he took one -long last draught of ale, measuring, it is supposed, about three -half-pints, and then, with an easy negligence, wiping the froth from -his mouth with the cuff of his coat, he addressed himself to the fair -dame once more,-- - -"They may say what they like, by the hokey! all the world over; but -divil bellows me, if ever I seen sich another beautiful, fascinating, -flusthrating famale, since I was the size iv that musthard pot--may the -divil bile me if I did," ejaculated Mr. Toole, rapturously throwing -himself into the chair with something between a sigh and a grunt, and -ready to burst with love and repletion. - -The fair maiden endeavoured to look contemptuous; but she smiled in -spite of herself. - -"Well, well, Mr. Toole," she exclaimed, "I see there is no use in -talking; a fool's a fool to the end of his days, and some people's past -cure. But tell me, how's Mr. O'Connor?" - -"Bedad, it's time for me to think iv it," exclaimed Larry, briskly. "Do -you know what brought me here?" - -"How should _I_ know?" responded she, with a careless toss of her head, -and a very conscious look. - -"Well," replied Mr. Toole, "I'll tell you at once. I lost the masther -as clane as a new shilling, an' I'm fairly braking my heart lookin' for -him; an' here I come, trying would I get the chance iv hearing some -soart iv a sketch iv him." - -"Is that all?" inquired the damsel, drily. - -"All!" ejaculated Larry; "begorra. I think it's enough, an' something -to spare. _All!_ why, I tell you the masther's lost, an' anless I get -some news of him here, it's twenty to one the two of us 'ill never meet -in this disappinting world again. _All!_ I think that something." - -"An' pray, what should _I_ know about Mr. O'Connor?" inquired the girl, -tartly. - -"Did you see him, or hear of him, or was he out here at all?" asked he. - -"No, he wasn't. What would bring him?" replied she. - -"Then he _is_ gone in airnest," exclaimed Larry, passionately; "he's -gone entirely! I half guessed it from the first minute. By jabers, my -bitther curse attind that bloody little public. He's lost, an' tin to -one he's _in glory_, for he was always unfortunate. Och! divil fly away -with the liquor." - -"Well, to be sure," ejaculated the lady's maid, with contemptuous -severity, "but it is surprising what fools some people is. Don't you -think your master can go anywhere for a day or two, but he must bring -_you_ along with him, or ask _your_ leave and licence to go where he -pleases forsooth? Marry, come up, it's enough to make a pig laugh only -to listen to you." - -Just at this moment, and when Larry was meditating his reply, steps -were heard in the hall, and voices in debate. They were those of -Nicholas Blarden and of Sir Henry Ashwoode. Larry instantly recognized -the latter, and his companion both of them. - -"They're coming this way," gasped Larry, with agonized alarm. "Tare an' -ouns, evangelical girl, we're done for. Put me somewhere quick, or -begorra it's all over with us." - -"What's to be done, merciful Moses? Where can you go?" ejaculated the -terrified girl, surveying the room with frantic haste. "The press. Oh! -thank God, the press. Come along, quick, quick, Mr. Toole, for gracious -goodness sake." - -So saying, she rushed headlong at a kind of cupboard or press, whose -doors opened in the panelling of the wall, and fumbling with frightful -agitation among her keys, she succeeded at length in unlocking it, and -throwing open its door, exhibited a small orifice of about four feet -and a half by three in the wall. - -"Now, Mr. Toole, into it, as you vally your precious life--quick, -quick, for the love of heaven," ejaculated the maiden. - -Larry was firmly persuaded that the feat was a downright physical -impossibility; yet with a devotion and desperation which love and -terror combined alone could inspire, he mounted a chair, and, supported -by all the muscular strength of his soul's idol, scrambled into the -aperture. A projecting shelf about half way up threw his figure so much -out of equilibrium, that the task of keeping him in his place was no -light one. By main strength, however, the girl succeeded in closing the -door and locking her visitor fairly in, and before her master entered -the chamber, Mr. Toole became a close prisoner, and the key which -confined him was safely deposited in the charming Betsy's pocket. - -Blarden roared lustily to the servants, and with sundry impressive -imprecations, commanded them to remove every vestige of the breakfast -of which the prisoner had just clandestinely partaken. Meanwhile he -continued to walk up and down the room, whistling a lively ditty, and -here and there, at particularly sprightly parts, drumming with his foot -in time upon the floor. - -"Well, that job's done at last," said he. "The room's clean and quiet, -and we can't do better than take a twist at the cards. So let's have a -pack, and play your best, d'ye mind." - -This was addressed to Ashwoode, who, of course, acquiesced. - -"Oh, bloody wars, I'm in for it," murmured Larry, "they'll be playin' -here to no end, and I smothering fast, as it is; I'll never come out iv -this pisition with my life." - -Few situations could indeed be conceived physically more uncomfortable. -A shelf projecting about midway pressed him forward, exerting anything -but a soothing influence upon the backbone, so that his whole weight -rested against the door of his narrow prison, and was chiefly sustained -by his breast-bone and chin. In this very constrained attitude, and -afraid to relieve his fatigue by moving even in the very slightest -degree, lest some accidental noise should excite suspicion and betray -his presence, the ill-starred squire remained; his discomforts still -further enhanced by the pouring of some pickles, which had been -overturned upon an upper shelf, in cool streams of vinegar down his -back. - -"I could not have betther luck," murmured he. "I never discoorsed a -famale yet, but I paid through the nose for it. Didn't I get enough iv -romance, bad luck to it, an' isn't it a plisint pisition I'm in at -last--locked up in an ould cupboard in the wall, an' fairly swimming in -vinegar. Oh, the women, the women. I'd rather than every stitch of -cloth on my back, I walked out clever an' clane to meet the young -masther, and not let myself be boxed up this way, almost dying with the -cramps and the snuffication. Oh, them women, them women!" - -Thus mourned our helpless friend in inarticulate murmurings. Meanwhile -young Ashwoode opened two or three drawers in search of a pack of -cards. - -"There are several, I know, in that locker," said Ashwoode. "I laid -some of them there myself." - -"This one?" inquired Blarden, making the interrogatory by a sharp -application of the head of his cane to the very panel against which -Larry's chin was resting. The shock, the pain, and the exaggerated -loudness of the application caused the inmate of the press, in spite of -himself, to ejaculate,-- - -"Oh, holy Pether!" - -"Did you hear anything queer?" inquired Blarden, with some -consternation. "Anyone calling out?" - -"No," said Ashwoode. - -"Well, see what the nerves is," cried Blarden, "by ----, I'd have bet -ten to one I heard a voice in the wall the minute I hit that locker -door--this ---- weather don't agree with me." - -This sentence he wound up by administering a second knock where he had -given the first; and Larry, with set teeth and a grin, which in a -horse-collar would have won whole pyramids of gingerbread, nevertheless -bore it this time with the silent stoicism of a tortured Indian. - -"The nerves is a ---- quare piece of business," observed Mr. Blarden--a -philosophical remark in which Larry heartily concurred--"but get the -cards, will you--what the ---- is all the delay about?" - -In obedience to Ashwoode's summons, Mistress Betsy Carey entered the -room. - -"Carey," said he, "open that press and take out two or three packs of -cards." - -"I can't open the locker," replied she, readily, "for the young -mistress put the key astray, sir--I'll run and look for it, if you -please, sir." - -"God bless you," murmured Larry, with fervent gratitude. - -"Hand me that bunch of keys from under your apron," said Blarden, "ten -to one we'll find some one among them that'll open it." - -"There's no use in trying, sir," replied the girl, very much alarmed, -"it's a pitiklar soart of a lock, and has a pitiklar key--you'll -ruinate it, sir, if you go for to think to open it with a key that -don't fit it, so you will--I'll run and look for it if you please, -sir." - -"Give me that bunch of keys, young woman; give them, I tell you," -exclaimed Blarden. - -Thus constrained, she reluctantly gave the keys, and among them the -identical one to whose kind offices Mr. O'Toole owed his present -dignified privacy. - -"Come in here, Chancey," said Mr. Blarden, addressing that gentleman, -who happened at that moment to be crossing the hall--"take these keys -here and try if any of them will pick that lock." - -Chancey accordingly took the keys, and mounting languidly upon a chair, -began his operations. - -It were not easy to describe Mr. Toole's emotions as these proceedings -were going forward--some of the keys would not go in at all--others -went in with great difficulty, and came out with as much--some entered -easily, but refused to turn, and during the whole of these various -attempts upon his "dungeon keep," his mental agonies grew momentarily -more and more intense, so much so that he was repeatedly prompted to -precipitate the _dénouement_, by shouting his confession from within. -His heart failed him, however, and his resolution grew momentarily -feebler and more feeble--he would have given worlds at that moment that -he could have shrunk into the pickle-pot, whose contents were then -streaming down his back--gladly would he have compounded for escape at -the price of being metamorphosed for ever into a gherkin. His prayers -were, however, unanswered, and he felt his inevitable fate momentarily -approaching. - -"This one will do it--I declare to God I have it at last," drawled -Chancey, looking lazily at a key which he held in his hand; and then -applying it, it found its way freely into the key-hole. - -"Bravo, Gordy, by ----," cried Blarden, "I never knew you fail -yet--you're as cute as a pet fox, you are." - -Mr. Blarden had hardly finished this flattering eulogium, when Chancey -turned the key in the lock: with astonishing violence the doors burst -open, and Larry Toole, Mr. Chancey, and the chair on which he was -mounted, descended with the force of a thunderbolt on the floor. In -sheer terror, Chancey clutched the interesting stranger by the throat, -and Larry, in self-defence, bit the lawyer's thumb, which had by a -trifling inaccuracy entered his mouth, and at the same time, with both -his hands, dragged his nose in a lateral direction until it had -attained an extraordinary length and breadth. In equal terror and -torment the two combatants rolled breathless along the floor; the -charming Betsy Carey screamed murder, robbery, and fire--while Ashwoode -and Blarden both started to their feet in the extremest amazement. - -"How the devil did you get into that press?" exclaimed Ashwoode, as -soon as the rival athletes had been separated and placed upon their -feet, addressing Larry Toole. - -"Oh! the robbing villain," ejaculated Mistress Betsy Carey--"don't -suffer nor allow him to speak--bring him to the pump, gentlemen--oh! -the lying villain--kick him out, Mr. Chancey--thump him, Sir -Henry--don't spare him, Mr. Blarden--turn him out, gentlemen all--he's -quite aperiently a robber--oh! blessed hour, but it's I that ought to -be thankful--what in the world wide would I do if he came powdering -down on me, the overbearing savage!" - -"Och! murder--the cruelty iv women!" ejaculated Larry, -reproachfully--"oh! murdher, beautiful Betsy." - -"Don't be talking to me, you sneaking, skulking villain," cried -Mistress Carey, vehemently, "you must have stole the key, so you must, -and locked yourself up, you frightful baste. For goodness gracious -sake, gentlemen, don't keep him talking here--he's dangerous--the -Turk." - -"Oh! the villainy iv women!" repeated Larry, with deep pathos. - -A brief cross-examination of Mistress Carey and of Larry Toole sufficed -to convict the fair maiden of her share in concealing the prisoner. - -"Now, Mr. Toole," said Ashwoode, addressing that personage, "you have -been once before turned out of this house for misconduct--I tell you, -that if you do not make good use of your time, and run as fast as your -best exertions will enable you, you shall have abundant reason to -repent it, for in five minutes more I will set the dogs after you; and -if ever I find you here again, I will have you ducked in the horse-pond -for a full hour--depart, sirrah--away--run." - -Larry did not require any more urgent remonstrances to induce him to -expedite his retreat--he made a contrite bow to Sir Henry--cast a look -of melancholy reproach at the beautiful Betsy, who, with a heightened -colour, was withdrawing from the scene, and then with sudden -nimbleness, effected his retreat. - -"The fellow," said Ashwoode, "is a servant of that O'Connor, whom I -mentioned to you. I do not think we shall ever have the pleasure of his -company again. I am glad the thing has happened, for it proves that we -cannot trust Carey." - -"That it does," echoed Blarden, with an oath. - -"Well, then, she shall take her departure hence before a week," -rejoined Ashwoode. "We shall see about her successor without loss of -time. So much for Mistress Carey." - - - - -CHAPTER LI. - -FLORA GUY. - - -"Why, I thought you had done for that fellow, that O'Connor," exclaimed -Blarden, after he had carefully closed the door. "I thought you had -pinked him through and through like a riddle--isn't he dead--didn't you -settle him?" - -"So I thought myself, but some troublesome people have the art of -living through what might have killed a hundred," rejoined Ashwoode; -"and I do not at all like this servant of his privately coming here, to -hold conference with my sister's maid--it looks suspicious; if it be, -however, as I suspect, I have effectually countermined them." - -"Well, then," replied Blarden, with an oath, "at all events we must set -to work now in earnest." - -"The first thing to be done is to find a substitute for the girl whom I -am about to dismiss," said Ashwoode, "we must select carefully, one -whom we can rely upon--do _you_ choose her?" - -"Why, I'm no great judge of such cattle," rejoined Blarden. "But here's -Chancey that understands them. I stake this ring to a sixpence he has -one in his eye this very minute that'll fit our purpose to a hair--what -do you say, Gordy, boy--can you hit on the kind of wench we want--eh, -you old sly boots?" - -Chancey sat sleepily before the fire, and a languid, lazy smile -expanded his sallow sensual face as he gazed at the bars of the grate. - -"Are you tongue-tied, or what?" exclaimed Blarden; "speak out--can you -find us such a one as we want? she must be a regular knowing devil, and -no mistake--as sly as yourself--a dead hand at a scheming game like -this--a deep one." - -"Well, maybe I do," drawled Chancey, "I think I know a girl that would -do, but maybe you'd think her too bad." - -"She can't be too bad for the work we want her for--what the devil do -you mean by BAD?" exclaimed Blarden. - -"Well," continued Chancey, disregarding the last interrogatory, "she's -Flora Guy, she attends in the 'Old Saint Columbkil,' a very arch little -girl--I think she'll do to a nicety." - -"Use your own judgment, I leave it all to you," said Blarden, "only get -one at once, do you mind, you know the sort we want." - -"I suppose she can't come any sooner than to-morrow, she must have -notice," said Chancey, "but I'll go in there to-day if you like, and -talk to her about it; I'll have her out with you here to-morrow to a -certainty, an' I declare to G---- she's a very smart little girl." - -"Do so," said Ashwoode, "and the sooner the better." - -Chancey arose, stuffed his hands into his breeches pockets according to -his wont, and with a long yawn lounged out of the room. - -"Do you keep out of the way after this evening," continued Sir Henry, -addressing himself to Blarden; "I will tell her that you are to leave -us this night, and that your visit ends; this will keep her quiet until -all is ready, and then she must be tractable." - -"Do you run and find her, then," said Blarden, "and tell her that I'm -off for town this evening--tell her at once--and mind, bring me word -what she says--off with you, doctor--ho, ho, ho!--mind, bring me word -what she says--do you hear?" - -With this pleasant charge ringing in his ears, Sir Henry Ashwoode -departed upon his honourable mission. - -Chancey strolled listlessly into town, and after an easy ramble, at -length found himself safe and sound once more beneath the roof of the -'Old Saint Columbkil.' He walked through the dingy deserted benches and -tables of the old tavern, and seating himself near the hearth, called a -greasy waiter who was dozing in a corner. - -"Tim, I'm rayther dry to-day, Timothy," said Mr. Chancey, addressing -the functionary, who shambled up to him more than half asleep; "what -will you recommend, Timothy--what do you think of a pot of light ale?" - -"Pint or quart?" inquired Tim shortly. - -"Well, we'll say a pint to begin with, Timothy," said Chancey, meekly; -"and do you see, Timothy, if Miss Flora Guy is on the tap; I wish she -would bring it to me herself--do you mind, Timothy?" - -Tim nodded and departed, and in a few minutes a brisk step was heard, -and a neat, good-humoured looking wench approached Mr. Chancey, and -planted a pint pot of ale before him. - -"Well, my little girl," said Chancey, with the quiet dignity of a -patron, "would you like to get a fine situation in a baronet's family, -my dear; to be own maid to a baronet's sister, where they eat off of -silver every day in the week, and have more money than you or I could -count in a twelve-month?" - -"Where's the good of liking it, Mr. Chancey?" replied the girl, -laughing; "it's time enough to be thinking of it when I get the offer." - -"Well, you _have_ the offer this minute, my little girl," rejoined -Chancey; "I have an elegant place for you--upon my conscience I -have--up at Morley Court, with Sir Henry Ashwoode; he's a baronet, -dear, and you're to be own maid to Miss Mary Ashwoode." - -"It can't be the truth you're telling me," said the girl, in unfeigned -amazement. - -"I declare to G--d, and upon my soul, it is the plain truth," drawled -Chancey; "Sir Henry Ashwoode, the baronet, asked me to recommend a -tidy, sprightly little girl, to be own maid to his elegant, fine -sister, and I recommended you--I declare to G--d but I did, and I come -in to-day from the baronet's house to hire you, so I did." - -"Well, an' is it in airnest you are?" said the girl. - -"What I'm telling you is the rale truth," rejoined Chancey: "I declare -to G--d upon my soul and conscience, and I wouldn't swear that in a -lie, if you like to take the place you can get it." - -"Well, well, after _that_--why, my fortune's made," cried the girl, in -ecstasies. - -"It is _so_, indeed, my little girl," rejoined Chancey; "your fortune's -made, sure enough." - -"An' my dream's out, too; for I was dreaming of nothing but washing, -and that's a sure sign of a change, all the live-long night," cried -she, "washing linen, and such lots of it, all heaped up; well, I'm a -sharp dreamer--ain't I, though?" - -"You will take it, then?" inquired Chancey. - -"_Will_ I--maybe I won't," rejoined she. - -"Well, come out to-morrow," said Chancey. - -"I can't to-morrow," replied she; "for all the table-cloth is to be -done, an' I would not like to disappoint the master after being with -him so long." - -"Well, can you next day?" - -"I can," replied she; "tell me where it is." - -"Do you know Tony Bligh's public--the old 'Bleeding Horse?'" inquired -he. - -"I do--right well," she rejoined with alacrity. - -"They'll direct you there," said Chancey; "ask for the manor of Morley -Court; it's a great old brick house, you can see it a mile away, and -whole acres of wood round it--it's a wonderful fine place, so it is; -remember it's Sir Henry himself you're to see when you go there; an' do -you mind what I'm saying to you, if I hear that you were talking and -prating about the place here to the chaps that's idling about, or to -old Pottles, or the sluts of maids, or, in short, to anyone at all, -good or bad, you'll be sure to lose the situation; so mind my advice, -like a good little girl, and don't be talking to any of them about -where you're going; for it wouldn't look respectable for a baronet to -be hiring his servants out of a tavern--do you mind me, dear." - -"Oh, never fear me, Mr. Chancey," she rejoined; "I'll not say a word to -a living soul; but I hope there's no fear the place will be taken -before me, by not going to-morrow." - -"Oh! dear me! no fear at all, I'll keep it open for you; now be a good -girl, and remember, don't disappoint." - -So saying he drained his pot of ale to the last drop, and took his -departure in the pleasing conviction that he had secured the services -of a fitting instrument to carry out the infernal schemes of his -employers. - - - - -CHAPTER LII. - -OF MARY ASHWOODE'S WALK TO THE LONESOME WELL--AND OF WHAT SHE SAW -THERE--AND SHOWING HOW SCHEMES OF PERIL BEGAN TO CLOSE AROUND HER. - - -On the following evening, Mary Ashwoode, in the happy conviction that -Nicholas Blarden was far away, and for ever removed from her -neighbourhood, walked forth at the fall of the evening unattended, to -ramble among the sequestered, but now almost leafless woods, which -richly ornamented the old place. Through sloping woodlands, among the -stately trees and wild straggling brushwood, now densely crowded -together, and again opening in broad vistas and showing the level -sward, and then again enclosing her amid the gnarled and hoary trunks -and fantastic boughs, all touched with the mellow golden hue of the -rich lingering light of evening, she wandered on, now treading the -smooth sod among the branching roots, now stepping from mossy stone to -stone across the wayward brook--now pausing on a gentle eminence to -admire the glowing sky and the thin haze of evening, mellowing all the -distant shadowy outlines of the landscape; and by all she saw at every -step beguiled into forgetfulness of the distance to which she had -wandered. - -She now approached what had been once a favourite spot with her. In a -gentle slope, and almost enclosed by wooded banks, was a small clear -well, an ancient lichen-covered arch enclosed it; and all around in -untended wildness grew the rugged thorn and dwarf oak, crowding around -it with a friendly pressure, and embowering its dark clear waters with -their ivy-clothed limbs; close by it stood a tall and graceful ash, and -among its roots was placed a little rustic bench where, in happier -times, Mary had often sat and read through the pleasant summer hours; -and now, alas! there was the little seat and there the gnarled roots -and the hoary stems of the wild trees, and the graceful ivy clusters, -and the time-worn mossy arch that vaulted the clear waters bubbling so -joyously beneath; how could she look on these old familiar friends, and -not feel what all who with changed hearts and altered fortunes revisit -the scenes of happier times are doomed to feel? - -For a moment she paused and stood lost in vain and bitter regrets by -the old well-side. Her reverie was, however, soon and suddenly -interrupted by the sound of something moving among the brittle -brushwood close by; she looked quickly in the direction of the noise, -and though the light had now almost entirely failed, she yet -discovered, too clearly to be mistaken, the head and shoulders of -Nicholas Blarden, as he pushed his way among the bushes toward the very -spot where she stood. With an involuntary cry of terror she turned, and -running at her utmost speed, retraced her steps toward the old mansion; -not daring even to look behind her, she pursued her way among the -deepening shadows of the old trees with the swiftness of terror; and, -as she ran, her fears were momentarily enhanced by the sound of heavy -foot-falls in pursuit, accompanied by the loud short breathing of one -exerting his utmost speed. On--on she flew with dizzy haste; the -distance seemed interminable, and her exhaustion was such that she felt -momentarily tempted to forego the hopeless effort, and surrender -herself to the mercy of her pursuer. At length she approached the old -house--the sounds behind her abated; she thought she heard hoarse -volleys of muttered imprecations, but not hazarding even a look behind, -she still held on her way, and at length, almost wild with fear, -entered the hall and threw herself sobbing into her brother's arms. - -"Oh God! brother; he's here; am I safe?" and she burst into hysterical -sobs. - -As soon as she was a little calmed, he asked her,-- - -"What has alarmed you, Mary; what have you seen to agitate you so?" - -"Oh! brother; have you deceived me; _is_ that fearful man still an -inmate of the house?" she said. - -"No; I tell you no," replied Ashwoode, "he's gone; his visit ended with -yesterday evening; he's fifty miles away by this time; tut--tut--folly, -child; you must not be so fanciful." - -"Well, brother, _he_ has deceived _you_," she rejoined, with the -earnestness of terror; "he is _not_ gone; he is about this place; so -surely as you stand there, I saw him; and, O God! he pursued me, and -had my strength faltered for a moment, or my foot slipped, I should -have been in his power;" she leaned down her head and clasped her hands -across her eyes, as if to exclude some image of horror. - -"This is mere raving, child," said Ashwoode, "the veriest folly; I tell -you the man is gone; you heard, if anything at all, a dog or a hare -springing through the leaves, and your imagination supplied the rest. I -tell you, once for all, that Blarden is threescore good miles away." - -"Brother, as surely as I see you, I saw him this night," she replied. -"I could not be mistaken; I saw him, and for several seconds before I -could move, such was the palsy of terror that struck me. I saw him, and -watched him advancing towards me--gracious heaven! for while I could -reckon ten; and then, as I fled, he still pursued; he was so near that -I actually heard his panting, as well as the tread of his -feet;--brother--brother--there was no mistake; there _could_ be none in -this." - -"Well, be it so, since you will have it," replied Ashwoode, trying to -laugh it off; "you have seen his _fetch_--I think they call it so. I'll -not dispute the matter with you; but this I will aver, that his -corporeal presence is removed some fifty miles from hence at this -moment; take some tea and get you to bed, child; you have got a fit of -the vapours; you'll laugh at your own foolish fancies to-morrow -morning." - - -That night Sir Henry Ashwoode, Nicholas Blarden, and their worthy -confederate, Gordon Chancey, were closeted together in earnest and -secret consultation in the parlour. - -"Why did you act so rashly--what could have possessed you to follow the -girl?" asked Ashwoode, "you have managed one way or another so -thoroughly to frighten the girl, to make her so fear and avoid you, -that I entirely despair, by fair means, of ever inducing her to listen -to your proposals." - -"Well, that does not take me altogether by surprise," said Blarden, -"for I have been suspecting so much this many a day; we must then go to -work in right earnest at once." - -"What measures shall we take?" said Ashwoode. - -"What measures!" echoed Blarden; "well, confound me if I know what to -begin with, there's such a lot of them, and all good--what do you say, -Gordy?" - -"You ought to ask her to marry you off-hand," said Chancey, demurely, -but promptly; "and if she refuses, let her be locked up, and treat her -as if she was _mad_--do you mind; and I'll go to Patrick's-close, and -bring out old Shycock, the clergyman; and the minute she strikes, you -can be coupled; she'll give in very soon, you'll find; little Ebenezer -will do whatever we bid him, and swear whatever we like; we'll all -swear that you and she are man and wife already; and when she denies -it, threaten her with the mad-house; and then we'll see if she won't -come round; and you must first send away the old servants--every -mother's skin of them--and get _new_ ones instead; and that's my -advice." - -"It's not bad, either," said Blarden, knitting his brows twice or -thrice, and setting his teeth. "I like that notion of threatening her -with Bedlam; it's a devilish good idea; and I'll give long odds it will -work wonders; what do you say, Ashwoode?" - -"Choose your own measures," replied the baronet. "I'm incapable of -advising you." - -"Well, then, Gordy, that's the go," said Blarden; "bring out his -reverence whenever I tip you the signal; and he shall have board and -lodging until the job's done; he'll make a tip-top domestic chaplain; I -suppose we'll have family prayers while he stays--eh?--ho, -ho!--devilish good idea, that; and Chancey'll act clerk--eh? won't you, -Gordy?" and, tickled beyond measure at the facetious suggestion, Mr. -Blarden laughed long and lustily. - -"I suppose I may as well keep close until our private chaplain arrives, -and the new waiting-maid," said Blarden; "and as soon as all is ready, -I'll blaze out in style, and I'll tell you what, Ashwoode, a precious -good thought strikes me; turn about you know is fair play; and as I'm -fifty miles away to-day, it occurs to me it would be a deuced good plan -to have _you_ fifty miles away to-morrow--eh?--we could manage matters -better if you were supposed out of the way, and that she knew I had the -whole command of the house, and everything in it; she'd be a cursed -deal more frightened; what do you think?" - -"Yes, I entirely agree with you," said Ashwoode, eagerly catching at a -scheme which would relieve him of all prominent participation in the -infamous proceedings--an exemption which, spite of his utter -selfishness, he gladly snatched at. "I will do so. I will leave the -house in reality." - -"No--no; my tight chap, not so fast," rejoined Blarden, with a savage -chuckle. "I'd rather have my eye on you, if you please; just write her -a letter, dated from Dublin, and say you're obliged to go anywhere you -please for a month or so; she'll not find you out, for we'll not let -her out of her room; and now I think everything is settled to a turn, -and we may as well get under the blankets at once, and be stirring -betimes in the morning." - - - - -CHAPTER LIII. - -THE DOUBLE FAREWELL. - - -Next day Mistress Betsy Carey bustled into her young mistress's chamber -looking very red and excited. - -"Well, ma'am," said she, dropping a short indignant courtesy, "I'm come -to bid you good-bye, ma'am." - -"How--what can you mean, Carey?" said Mary Ashwoode. - -"I hope them as comes after me," continued the handmaiden, vehemently, -"will strive to please you in all pints and manners as well as them -that's going." - -"Going!" echoed Mary; "why, this can't be--there must be some great -mistake here." - -"No mistake at all, ma'am, of any sort or description; the master has -just paid up my wages, and gave me my discharge," rejoined the maid. -"Oh, the ingratitude of some people to their servants is past bearing, -so it is." - -And so saying, Mistress Carey burst into a passion of tears. - -"There _is_ some mistake in all this, my poor Carey," said the young -lady; "I will speak to my brother about it immediately; don't cry so." - -"Oh! my lady, it ain't for myself I'm crying; the blessed saints in -heaven knows it ain't," cried the beautiful Betsy, glancing -devotionally upward through her tears; "not at all and by no means, -ma'am, it's all for other people, so it is, my lady; oh! ma'am, you -don't know the badness and the villainy of people, my lady." - -"Don't cry so, Carey," replied Mary Ashwoode, "but tell me frankly what -fault you have committed--let me know why my brother has discharged -you." - -"Just because he thinks I'm too fond of you, my lady, and too honest -for what's going on," cried she, drying her eyes in her apron with -angry vehemence, and speaking with extraordinary sharpness and -volubility; "because I saw Mr. O'Connor's man yesterday--and found out -that the young gentleman's letters used to be stopped by the old -master, God rest him, and Sir Henry, and all kinds of false letters -written to him and to you by themselves, to breed mischief between you. -I never knew the reason before, why in the world it was the master used -to make me leave every letter that went between you, for a day or more -in his keeping. Heaven be his bed; I was too innocent for them, my -lady; we were both of us too simple; oh dear! oh dear! it's a quare -world, my lady. And that wasn't all--but who do you think I meets -to-day skulking about the house in company with the young master, but -Mr. Blarden, that we all thought, glory be to God, was I don't know how -far off out of the place; and so, my lady, because them things has come -to my knowledge, and because they knowed in their hearts, so they did, -that I'd rayther be crucified than hide as much as the black of my nail -from you, my lady, they put me away, thinking to keep you in the dark. -Oh! but it's a dangerous, bad world, so it is--to put me out of the way -of tellin' you whatever I knowed; and all I'm hoping for is, that them -that's coming in my room won't help the mischief, and try to blind you -to what's going on;" hereupon she again burst into a flood of tears. - -"Good God," said Mary Ashwoode, in the low tones of horror, and with a -face as pale as marble, "_is_ that dreadful man here--have you seen -him?" - -"Yes, my lady, seen and talked with him, my lady, not ten minutes -since," replied the maid, "and he gave me a guinea, and told me not to -let on that I seen him--he did--but he little knew who he was speaking -to--oh! ma'am, but it's a terrible shocking bad world, so it is." - -Mary Ashwoode leaned her head upon her hand in fearful agitation. This -ruffian, who had menaced and insulted and pursued her, a single glance -at whose guilty and frightful aspect was enough to warn and terrify, -was in league and close alliance with her own brother to entrap and -deceive her--Heaven only could know with what horrible intent. - -"Carey, Carey," said the pale and affrighted lady, "for God's sake send -my brother--bring him here--I must see Sir Henry, your master--quickly, -Carey--for God's sake quickly." - -The young lady again leaned her head upon her hand and became silent; -so the lady's maid dried her eyes, and left the room to execute her -mission. - -The apartment in which Mary Ashwoode was now seated, was a small -dressing-room or boudoir, which communicated with her bed-chamber, and -itself opened upon a large wainscotted lobby, surrounded with doors, -and hung with portraits, too dingy and faded to have a place in the -lower rooms. She had thus an opportunity of hearing any step which -ascended the stairs, and waited, in breathless expectation, for the -sounds of her brother's approach. As the interval was prolonged her -impatience increased, and again and again she was tempted to go down -stairs and seek him herself; but the dread of encountering Blarden, and -the terror in which she held him, kept her trembling in her room. At -length she heard two persons approach, and her heart swelled almost to -bursting, as, with excited anticipation, she listened to their advance. - -"Here's the room for you at last," said the voice of an old female -servant, who forthwith turned and departed. - -"I thank you kindly, ma'am," said the second voice, also that of a -female, and the sentence was immediately followed by a low, timid knock -at the chamber door. - -"Come in," said Mary Ashwoode, relieved by the consciousness that her -first fears had been delusive--and a good-looking wench, with rosy -cheeks, and a clear, good-humoured eye, timidly and hesitatingly -entered the room, and dropped a bashful courtesy. - -"Who are you, my good girl, and what do you want with me?" inquired -Mary, gently. - -"I'm the new maid, please your ladyship, that Sir Henry Ashwoode hired, -if it pleases you, ma'am, instead of the young woman that's just gone -away," replied she, her eyes staring wider and wider, and her cheeks -flushing redder and redder every moment, while she made another -courtesy more energetic than the first. - -"And what is your name, my good girl?" inquired Mary. - -"Flora Guy, may it please your ladyship," replied the newcomer, with -another courtesy. - -"Well, Flora," said her new mistress, "have you ever been in service -before?" - -"No, ma'am, if you please," replied she, "unless in the old Saint -Columbkil." - -"The old Saint Columbkil," rejoined Mary. "What is that, my good girl?" - -The ignorance implied in this question was so incredibly absurd, that -spite of all her fears and all her modesty, the girl smiled, and looked -down upon the floor, and then coloured to the eyes at her own -presumption. - -"It's the great wine-tavern and eating-house, ma'am, in Ship Street, if -you please," rejoined she. - -"And who hired you?" inquired Mary, in undisguised surprise. - -"It was Mr. Chancey, ma'am--the lawyer gentleman, please your -ladyship," answered she. - -"Mr. Chancey!--I never heard of him before," said the young lady, more -and more astonished. "Have you seen Sir Henry--my brother?" - -"Oh! yes, my lady, if you please--I saw him and the other gentleman -just before I came upstairs, ma'am," replied the maid. - -"What other gentleman?" inquired Mary, faintly. - -"I think Sir Henry was the young gentleman in the frock suit of -sky-blue and silver, ma'am--a nice young gentleman, ma'am--and there -was another gentleman, my lady, with him; he had a plum-coloured suit -with gold lace; he spoke very loud, and cursed a great deal; a large -gentleman, my lady, with a very red face, and one of his teeth out. I -seen him once in the tap-room. I remembered him the minute I set eyes -on him, but I can't think of his name. He came in, my lady, with that -young lord--I forget _his_ name, too--that was ruined with play and -dicing, my lady; and they had a quart of mulled sack--it was I that -brought it to them--and I remembered the red-faced gentleman very well, -for he was turning round over his shoulder, and putting out his tongue, -making fun of the young lord--because he was tipsy--and winking to his -own friends." - -"What did my brother--Sir Henry--your master--what did he say to you -just now?" inquired Mary, faintly, and scarcely conscious what she -said. - -"He gave me a bit of a note to your ladyship," said the girl, fumbling -in the profundity of her pocket for it, "just as soon as he put the -other girl--her that's gone, my lady--into the chaise--here it is, -ma'am, if you please." - -Mary took the letter, opened it hurriedly, and with eyes unsteady with -agitation, read as follows:-- - - "MY DEAR MARY,--I am compelled to fly as fast as horseflesh can - carry me, to escape arrest and the entire loss of whatever little - chance remains of averting ruin. I don't see you before leaving - this--my doing so were alike painful to us both--perhaps I shall be - here again by the end of a month--at all events, you shall hear of - me some time before I arrive. I have had to discharge Carey for - very ill-conduct I have not time to write fully now. I have hired - in her stead the bearer, Flora Guy, a very respectable, good girl. - I shall have made at least two miles away in my flight before you - read this. Perhaps you had better keep within your own room, for - Mr. Blarden will shortly be here to look after matters in my - absence. I have hardly a moment to scratch this line. - - "Always your attached brother, - - "HENRY ASHWOODE." - -Her eye had hardly glanced through this production when she ran wildly -toward the door; but, checking herself before she reached it, she -turned to the girl, and with an earnestness of agony which thrilled to -her very heart, she cried,-- - -"Is he gone? tell me, as you hope for mercy, is he--_is_ he gone?" - -"Who, who is it, my lady?" inquired the girl, a good deal startled. - -"My brother--my brother: is he gone?" cried she more wildly still. - -"I seen him riding away very fast on a grey horse, my lady," said the -maid, "not five minutes before I came up stairs." - -"Then it's too late. God be merciful to me! I am lost, I have none to -guard me; I have none to help me--don't--don't leave me; for God's sake -don't leave the room for one instant----" - -There was an imploring earnestness of entreaty in the young lady's -accents and manner, and a degree of excited terror in her dilated eyes -and pale face, which absolutely affrighted the attendant. - -"No, my lady," said she, "I won't leave you, I won't indeed, my lady." - -"Oh! my poor girl," said Mary, "you little know the griefs and fears of -her you've come to serve. I fear me you have changed your lot, however -hard before, much for the worst in coming here; never yet did creature -need a friend so much as I; and never was one so friendless before," -and thus speaking, poor Mary Ashwoode leaned forward and wept so -bitterly that the girl was almost constrained to weep too for very -pity. - -"Don't take it to heart so much, my lady; don't cry. I'll do my best, -my lady, to serve you well; indeed I will, my lady, and true and -faithful," said the poor damsel, approaching timidly but kindly to her -young mistress's side. "I'll not leave you, my lady; no one shall harm -you nor hurt a hair of your head; I'll stay with you night and day as -long as you're pleased to keep me, my lady, and don't cry; sure you -won't, my lady?" - -So the poor girl in her own simple way strove to comfort and encourage -her desolate mistress. - -It is a wonderful and a beautiful thing how surely, spite of every -difference of rank and kind and forms of language, the words of -kindness and of sympathy--be they the rudest ever spoken, if only they -flow warm from the heart of a fellow-mortal--will gladden, comfort, and -cheer the sorrow-stricken spirit. Mary felt comforted and assured. - -"Do you be but true to me; stay by my side in this season of my sorest -trouble; and may God reward you as richly as I would my poor means -could," said Mary, with the same intense earnestness of entreaty. -"There is kindness and truth in your face. I am sure you will not -deceive me." - -"Deceive you, my lady! God forbid," said the poor maid, earnestly; "I'd -die before I'd deceive you; only tell me how to serve you, my lady, and -it will be a hard thing that I won't do for you." - -"There is no need to conceal from you what, if you do not already know, -you soon must," said Mary, speaking in a low tone, as if fearful of -being overheard; "that red-faced man you spoke of, that talked so loud -and swore so much, that man I fear--fear him more than ever yet I -dreaded any living thing--more than I thought I _could_ fear anything -earthly--him, this Mr. Blarden, we must avoid." - -"Blarden--Mr. Blarden," said the maid, while a new light dawned upon -her mind. "I could not think of his name--Nicholas Blarden--Tommy, that -is one of the waiters in the 'Columbkil,' my lady, used to call him -'red ruin.' I know it all now, my lady; it's he that owns the great -gaming house near High Street, my lady; and another in Smock Alley; I -heard Mr. Pottles say he could buy and sell half Dublin, he's mighty -rich, but everyone says he's a very bad man: I couldn't think of his -name, and I remember everything about him now; it's all found out. Oh! -dear--dear; then it's all a lie; just what I thought, every bit from -beginning to end--nothing else but a lie. Oh, the villain!" - -"What lie do you speak of?" asked Mary; "tell me." - -"Oh, the villain!" repeated the girl. "I wish to God, my lady, you were -safe out of this house----" - -"What is it?" urged Mary, with fearful eagerness; "what lie did you -speak of? what makes you now think my danger greater?" - -"Oh! my lady, the lies, the horrible lies he told me to-day, when Sir -Henry and himself were hiring me," replied she. "Oh! my lady, I'm sure -you are not safe here----" - -"For God's sake tell me plainly, what did they say?" repeated Mary. - -"Oh, ma'am, what do you think he told me? As sure as you're sitting -there, he told me he was a mad-doctor," replied she; "and he said, my -lady, how that you were not in your right mind, and that he had the -care of you; and, oh, my God, my lady, he told me never to be -frightened if I heard you crying out and screaming when he was alone -with you, for that all mad people was the same way----" - -"And was Sir Henry present when he told you this?" said Mary, scarce -articulately. - -"He was, my lady," replied she, "and I thought he turned pale when the -red-faced man said that; but he did not speak, only kept biting his -lips and saying nothing." - -"Then, indeed, my case is hopeless," said Mary, faintly, while all -expression, save that of vacant terror, faded from her face; "give me -some counsel--advise me, for God's sake, in this terrible hour. What -shall I do?" - -"Ah, my lady, I wish to the blessed saints I could," rejoined the girl; -"haven't you some friends in Dublin; couldn't I go for them?" - -"No--no," said she, hastily, "you must not leave me; but, thank God, -you have advised me well. I have one friend, and indeed only one, in -Dublin, whom I may rely upon, my uncle, Major O'Leary; I will write to -him." - -She sat down, and with cold trembling hands traced the hurried lines -which implored his succour; she then rang the bell. After some delay it -was answered by a strange servant; and, after a few brief inquiries, to -her unutterable horror she learned that all who remained of the old -faithful servants of the family had been dismissed, and persons whose -faces she had never seen before, hired in their stead. - -These were prompt and decisive measures, and ominously portended some -sinister catastrophe; the whole establishment reduced to a few -strangers, and--as she had too much reason to fear--tools and creatures -of the wretch Blarden. Having ascertained these facts, Mary Ashwoode, -without giving the letter to the man, dismissed him with some trivial -direction, and turning to her maid, said,-- - -"You see how it is; I am beset by enemies; may God protect and save me; -what shall I do? my mind--my senses, will forsake me. Merciful heaven! -what will become of me?" - -"Shall I take it myself, my lady?" inquired the maid. - -Mary raised herself eagerly, but with sudden dejection, said,-- - -"No--no; it cannot be; you must not leave me. I could not bear to be -alone here; besides, they must not think you are my friend; no, no, it -cannot be." - -"Well, my lady," said the maid decisively, "we'll leave the house -to-night; they'll not be on their guard against that, and once beyond -the walls, you're safe." - -"It is, I believe, the only chance of safety left me," replied Mary, -distractedly; "and, as such, it shall be tried." - - - - -CHAPTER LIV. - -THE TWO CHANCES--THE BRIBED COURIER. - - -"I don't half like the girl you've picked up," said Nicholas Blarden, -addressing his favourite parasite, Chancey; "she don't look half sharp -enough for our work; she hasn't the cut of a town lass about her; she's -too like a milk-maid, too simple, too soft. I've confounded misgivings -she's no schemer." - -"Well, well--dear me, but you're very suspicious," said Chancey. "I'd -like to know did ever anything honest come out of the 'Old Saint -Columbkil!' there wasn't a sharper little wench in the place than -herself, and I'll tell you that's a big word--no, no; there's not an -inch of the fool about her." - -"Well, she can't do us much mischief anyway," said Blarden; "the three -others are as true as steel--the devil's own chickens; and mind you -don't let the door-keys out of your pocket. Honour's all very fine, and -ought not to be doubted; but there's nothing to my mind like a stiff -bit of a rusty lock." - -Chancey smiled sleepily, and slapped the broad skirt of his coat twice -or thrice, producing therefrom the ringing clank which betoken the -presence of the keys in question. - -"So then we're all caged, by Jove," continued Blarden, rapturously; -"and very different sorts of game we are too: did you ever see the -show-box where the cats and the rats and the little birds are all boxed -up together, higgledy-piggledy, in the same wire cage. I can't but -think of it; it's so devilish like." - -"Well, well--dear me; I declare to God but you're a terrible funny -chap," said Chancey, enjoying a quiet chuckle; "but some way or -another," he continued, significantly, "I'm thinking the cat will have -a claw at the little bird yet." - -"Well, maybe it will;" rejoined Blarden, "you never knew one yet that -was not fond of a tit-bit when he could have it. Eh?" - -Thus playfully they conversed, seasoning their pleasantries with sack -and claret, and whatever else the cellars of Morley Court afforded, -until evening closed, and the darkness of night succeeded. - -Mary Ashwoode and her maid sat prepared for the execution of their -adventurous project; they had early left the outer room in which we saw -them last, and retired into her bedchamber to avoid suspicion; as the -night advanced they extinguished the lights, lest their gleaming -through the windows should betray the lateness of their vigil, and -alarm the fears of their persecutors. Thus, in silence and darkness, -not daring to speak, and almost afraid to breathe, they waited hour -after hour until long past midnight. The well-known sounds of riotous -swearing and horse-laughter, and the heavy trampling of feet, as the -half-drunken revellers staggered to their beds, now reached their ears -in noises faint and muffled by the distance. At length all was again -quiet, and nearly a whole hour of silence passed away ere they ventured -to move, almost to breathe. - -"Now, Flora, open the outer door softly," whispered Mary, "and listen -for any, the faintest sound; take off your shoes, and for your life -move noiselessly." - -"Never fear, my lady," responded the girl in a tone as low; and -slipping off her shoes from her feet, she pressed her hand upon the -young lady's wrist, to intimate silence, and glided into the little -boudoir. With sickening anxiety the young lady heard her cross the -small chamber, now and then stumbling against some pieces of furniture -and cautiously groping her way; at length the door-handle turned, and -then followed a silence. After an interval of a few seconds the girl -returned. - -"Well, Flora," whispered Mary, eagerly, as she approached, "is all -still?" - -"Oh! blessed hour! my lady, the door's locked on the outside," replied -the maid. - -"It can't be," said Mary Ashwoode, while her very heart sank within -her. "Oh! Flora, Flora--girl, don't say that." - -"It is indeed, my lady--as sure as I'm a living soul, it is so," -replied she fearfully; "and it was wide open when I came up. Oh! -blessed hour! my lady, what are we to do?" - -"I will try; I will see; perhaps you are mistaken. God grant you may -be," said the young lady, making her way to the door which opened on to -the lobby. She reached it--turned the handle--pressed it with all her -feeble strength, but in vain; it was indeed securely locked upon the -outside; her project of escape was baffled at the very outset, and with -a heart-sickening sense of terror and dismay--such as she had never -felt before--she returned with her attendant to her chamber. - -A night, sleepless, except for a few brief and fevered slumbers, -crowded with terrors, passed heavily away, and the morning found Mary -Ashwoode, pale, nervous, and feverish. She resolved, at whatever -hazard, to endeavour to induce one of the new servants to convey her -letter to Major O'Leary. The detection of this attempt could at worst -result in nothing worse than to precipitate whatever mischief Blarden -and his confederates had plotted, and which would if not so speedily, -at all events as surely overtake her, were no such attempt made. - -"Flora," said she, "I am resolved to try this chance, I fear me it is -but a poor one; you, however, my poor girl, must not be compromised -should it fail; you must not be exposed by your faithfulness to the -vengeance of these villains; do you go into the next room, and I will -try what may be done." - -So saying, she rang the bell, and in a few minutes it was answered by -the same man who had obeyed her summons on the day before. The man, -although arrayed in livery, had by no means the dapper air of a -professed footman, and possessed rather a villainous countenance than -otherwise; he stood at the door with one hand fumbling at the handle, -while he asked with an air half gruff and half awkward what she wanted. -She sat in silence for a minute like the enchanter whose spells have -been for the first time answered by the appearance of the familiar; too -much agitated and affrighted to utter her mandate; with a violent -effort she mastered her trepidation, and with an appearance of -self-possession and carelessness which she was far from feeling, she -said,-- - -"Can you, my good man, find a trusty messenger to carry a letter for me -to a friend in Dublin?" - -The man remained silent for some seconds, twisted his mouth into -several strange contortions, and looked very hard indeed at her. At -length he said, closing the door at the same time, and speaking in a -low key,-- - -"Well, I don't say but I _might_ find one, but there's a great many -things would make it very costly; maybe you could not afford to pay -him?" - -"I could--I would--see here," and she took a diamond ring from her -finger; "this is a diamond; it is of value--convey but this letter -safely and it is yours." - -The man took the ring from the table where she laid it, and examined it -curiously. - -"It's a pretty ring--it is," said he, removing it a little from his -eye, and turning it in different directions so as to make it flash and -sparkle in the light, "it _is_ a pretty ring, rayther small for my -fingers, though--it's a real diamond?" - -"It is indeed, valuable--worth forty pounds at least," she replied. - -"Well, then, here goes, it's worth a bit of a risk," and so saying he -deposited it carefully in a corner of his waistcoat pocket, "give me -the letter now, ma'am." - -She handed him the letter, and he thrust it into the deepest abyss of -his breeches pocket. - -"Deliver that letter but safely," said she, "and what I have given you -shall be but the earnest of what's to come, it is important--urgent--execute -but the mission truly, and I will not spare rewards." - -The man gave two short nods of huge significance, accompanied with a -slight grunt. - -"I say again, let me but have assurance that the message has been -done," repeated she, "and you shall have abundant reason to rejoice, -above all things dispatch--and--and--_secrecy_." - -The man winked very hard with one eye, and at the same time with his -crooked finger drew his nose so much on one side, that he seemed intent -on removing that feature into exile somewhere about the region of his -ear; and having performed this elegant and expressive pantomime for -several seconds, he stooped forward, and in an emphatic whisper said,-- - -"_Ne-ver fear._" - -He then opened the door and abruptly made his exit, leaving poor Mary -Ashwoode full of agitating hopes. - - - - -CHAPTER LV. - -THE FEARFUL VISITANT. - - -Two or three days had passed, during which Mary had ascertained the -fact that every door affording egress from the house was kept -constantly locked, and that the new servants, as well as Blarden and -his companions, were perpetually on the alert, and traversing the lower -apartments, so that even had the door of the mansion laid open it would -have been impossible to attempt an escape without encountering some one -of those whose chief object was to keep her in close confinement, -perhaps the very man from whose presence her inmost soul shrank in -terror--she felt, therefore, that she was as effectually and as -helplessly a prisoner as if she lay in the dungeons of a gaol. - -Often again had she endeavoured to see the man to whom she had confided -her letter to Major O'Leary, but in vain; her summons was invariably -answered by the others, and fearing to excite suspicion, she, of -course, did not inquire for him, and so, after a time, desisted from -her endeavours. - -Her window commanded a partial view of the old shaded avenue, and hour -after hour would she sit at her casement, watching in vain for the -longed-for appearance of her uncle, and listening, as fruitlessly, for -the clang of his horse's hoofs upon the stony court. - -"Oh! Flora, will he ever come?" she would exclaim, with a voice of -anguish, "will he ever--ever come to deliver me from this horrible -thraldom? I watch in vain, from the light of early dawn till darkness -comes--I watch in vain, for the welcome sight of my friend--in vain--in -vain I listen for the sound of his approach--heaven pity me, where shall -I turn for hope--all--all have forsaken me--all that ever I loved have -fallen from me, and left me desolate in this extremity--has he, too, my -last friend, forsaken me--will they leave me here to misery--oh, that -I might lay me down where head and heart are troubled no more, and be -at rest in the cold grave. He'll never come--no--no--no--never." - -Then she would wring her hands, still gazing from the casement, and -hopelessly sob and weep. - - -She knew not why it was that Nicholas Blarden had suffered her, for a -day or two, to be exempt from the dreaded intrusions of his hated -presence. But this afforded her little comfort; she knew not how -soon--at what moment--the monster might choose to present himself -before her under circumstances of horror so dreadful as those of her -present friendless and forsaken abandonment to his mercy--and when -these imminent fears were for an instant hushed, a thousand agonizing -thoughts, arising from the partial revelations of her late servant, -Carey, occupied her mind. That the correspondence between her and -O'Connor had been falsified--she dreaded, yet she hoped it might be -true--she feared, yet prayed it might be so--and while the thought that -others had wrought their estrangement, and that the coolness of -indifference had not touched the heart of him she so fondly loved -visited her mind, a thousand bright, but momentary hopes, fluttered her -poor heart, and, for an instant, her dangers and her fears were all -forgotten. - -The day had passed, and its broad, clear light had given place to the -red, dusky glow of sunset, when Mary Ashwoode heard the measured tread -of several persons approaching her room. With an instinctive -consciousness of her peril, she started to her feet, while every tinge -of colour fled entirely from her cheeks. - -"Flora--stay by me--oh, God, they are coming!" she said, and the words -had hardly escaped her lips, when the door of the boudoir, in which she -stood, was pushed open, and Nicholas Blarden, followed by Gordon -Chancey, entered the room. There was in the countenance of Blarden none -of his usual affectation of good humour; on the contrary, it wore a -scowl of undisguised and formidable menace, the effect of which was -enhanced by the baleful significance of the malignant glance which he -fixed upon her, and as he stood there biting his lips in ominous -silence, and gazing with savage, gloating eyes, upon the affrighted -girl, it were not easy to imagine an apparition more intimidating and -hideous. Even Chancey seemed a little uneasy in the anticipation of -what was coming, and the sallow face of the barrister looked more than -usually sallow, and his glittering eyes more glossy than ever. - -"Go out of the room, _you_--do you mind," said Blarden, grimly, -addressing Flora Guy, who had placed herself a little in advance of her -young mistress, and who stood mute and thunderstruck, looking upon the -two intruders--"are you palsied, or what--quit the room when I command -you, you brimstone fool;" and he clutched her by the shoulder, and -thrust her headlong out of the chamber, flinging the door to, with a -crash that made the walls ring again. - -"Listen to me and mind me, and weigh my words, or you'll rue it," said -he, with a tremendous oath, addressing himself to the speechless and -terrified lady. "I have a bit of information to give you, and then a -bit of advice after it; you must know it's my intention we shall be -married; mind me, _married_ to-morrow evening; I know you don't like -it; but _I_ do, and that's enough for my purpose; and whenever I make -my mind up to a thing, there is not that power in earth, or heaven, or -hell, to turn me from it. I was always considered a tough sort of a -chap when I was in earnest about anything; and I can tell you I'm -mighty well in earnest here; and now you may as well know how -completely I have you under my thumb; there is not a servant in the -house that does not belong to me; there is not a door in the house but -the key of it is in my keeping; there is not a word spoken in the house -but I hear it, nor a thing done that I don't know of it, and _here's -your letter for you_," he shouted, and flung her letter to Major -O'Leary open before her on the table. "How dare you tamper with my -servant's honesty? how _dare_ you?" thundered he, with a stamp upon the -floor which made the ornaments on the cabinet dance and jingle; "but -mind how you try it again--beware; mind how you offer to bribe them -again; I give you fair warning; you're my property now--to do what I -like with, just as much as my horse or my dog; and if you _won't_ obey -me, why I'll find a way to _make_ you; to-morrow evening I'll have a -parson here, and we'll be buckled; make no rout about it, and it will -be better for you, for whatever you do or say, if I had to get you into -a strait-waistcoat and clap a plaister over your mouth to keep you -quiet, married we shall be; husband and wife, and plenty of witnesses -to vouch for it; do you understand me, and no mistake; and if you're -foolish enough to make a row about it, I'll tell you what I'll do in -such a case," and he fixed his eyes with a still more horrible -expression upon her. "I have a particular friend, do you mind--a very -obliging, particular old friend that's a mad-doctor; do you hear me; -not a very lucky one to be sure, for he has made devilish few cures; a -mad-doctor, do you mind?--and I'll have him to reside here and -superintend your treatment; do you hear me? don't stand gaping there -like an idiot; do you hear me?" - -Blarden during this address had advanced into the room and stood by the -little table, leaning his knuckles upon it, and stooping forward and -advancing his menacing and hideous face, so as to diminish still -further the intervening distance, when, all on a sudden, like a -startled bird, she darted across the room, and ere they had time to -interpose, had opened the door, and was half-way across the lobby; she -passed Flora Guy, who was sobbing at the door with her apron to her -eyes, and at the head of the stairs beheld Sir Henry Ashwoode, no less -confounded at the rencounter than was she herself. - -"My brother! my brother!" she shrieked, and threw herself fainting into -his arms. - -Spite of all that was base in his character, the young man was so -shocked and confounded that he turned pale as death, and speech and -recollection for a moment forsook him. - -Almost at the same instant Chancey and Blarden were at his side. - -"What the devil ails you?" said Blarden, furiously, addressing -Ashwoode, "what do you stand there hugging her for, you white-faced -idiot?" - -Ashwoode's lips moved; but he could not speak, and the senseless burden -still lay in his arms. - -"Let her go, will you, you d----d oaf? take hold of the girl, Chancey, -and you, you idiot, come here and lend a hand; carry her into her room, -and mind, sweet lips, keep the key in your pocket; and if you want help -tatter the bells; get down, will you, you moon-struck fool?" he -continued, addressing Ashwoode; "what do you stand there for, with your -whitewashed face?" - -Ashwoode, scarcely knowing what he did, staggered down the stairs and -made his way to the parlour, where he sat gasping, with his face buried -in his hands. Meanwhile, with many a meek expression of pity, the -lawyer assisted Flora Guy in bearing the inanimate body of her mistress -into the chamber, where, in happy unconsciousness, she lay under the -tender care of her humble friend and servant. Blarden and Chancey -having accomplished the object of their mission, departed to the lower -regions to enjoy whatever good cheer Morley Court afforded. - - - - -CHAPTER LVI. - -EBENEZER SHYCOCK. - - -In pursuance of the arrangements which Mr. Blarden had, on the evening -before, announced to his intended victim, Gordon Chancey was despatched -early the next morning to engage the services of a clergyman for the -occasion. He knew pretty well how to choose his man, and for the most -part, when a plot was to be executed, in theatrical phrase, _cast_ the -parts well. He proceeded leisurely to the city, and sauntering through -the streets, found himself at length in Saint Patrick's Close; beneath -the shadow of the old Cathedral he turned down a narrow and deserted -lane and stopped before a dingy, miserable little shop, over whose -doorway hung a panel with the dusky and faded similitude of two great -keys crossed, now scarcely discernible through the ancient dust and -soot. The shop itself was a chaotic depository of old locks, holdfasts, -chisels, crowbars, and in short, of rusty iron in almost every -conceivable shape. Chancey entered this dusky shop, and accosting a -very grimed and rusty-looking little boy who was, with a file, -industriously employed in converting a kitchen candlestick into a -cannon, inquired,-- - -"I say, my good boy, does the Reverend Doctor Ebenezer Shycock stop -here yet?" - -"Aye, does he," said the youth, inspecting the visitor with a broad and -leisurely stare, while he wiped his forehead with his shirt sleeve. - -"Up the stairs, is it?" demanded Chancey. - -"Aye, the garrets," replied the boy. "And mind the hole in the top -lobby," he shouted after him, as he passed through the little door in -the back of the shop and began to ascend the narrow stairs. - -He did "mind the hole in the top lobby" (a very necessary caution, by -the way, as he might otherwise have been easily engulfed therein and -broken either his neck or his leg, after descending through the lath -and plaster, upon the floor of the landing-place underneath); and -having thus safely reached the garret door, he knocked thereupon with -his knuckles. - -"Come in," answered a female voice, not of the most musical quality, -and Chancey accordingly entered. A dirty, sluttish woman was sitting by -the window, knitting, and as it seemed, she was the only inmate of the -room. - -"Is the Reverend Ebenezer at home, my dear?" inquired the barrister. - -"He is, and he isn't," rejoined the female, oracularly. - -"How's that, my good girl?" inquired Chancey. - -"He's in the house, but he's not good for much," answered she. - -"Has he been throwing up the little finger, my dear?" said Chancey, "he -used to be rayther partial to brandy." - -"Brandy--brandy--who says brandy?" exclaimed a voice briskly from -behind a sheet which hung upon a string so as to screen off one corner -of the chamber. - -"Ay, ay, that's the word that'll waken you," said the woman. "Here's a -gentleman wants to speak with you." - -"The devil there is!" exclaimed the clerical worthy, abruptly, while -with a sudden chuck he dislodged the sheet which had veiled his -presence, and disclosed, by so doing, the form of a stout, short, -bull-necked man, with a mulberry-coloured face and twinkling grey -eyes--one of them in deep mourning. He wore a greasy red night-cap and -a very tattered and sad-coloured shirt, and was sitting upright in a -miserable bed, the covering of which appeared to be a piece of ancient -carpet. With one hand he scratched his head, while in the other he held -the sheet which he had just pulled down. - -"How are you, Parson Shycock?" said Chancey; "how do you find yourself -this morning, doctor?" - -"Tolerably well. But what is it you want with me? out with it, spooney. -Any job in my line, eh?" inquired the clergyman. - -"Yes, indeed, doctor," replied Chancey, "and a very good job; you're -wanted to marry a gentleman and a lady privately, not a mile and a half -out of town, this evening; you'll get five guineas for the job, and I -think that's no trifle." - -The parson mused, and scratched his head again. - -"Well," said he, "you must do a little job for me first. You can't be -ignorant that we members of the Church militant are often hard up; and -whenever I'm in a fix I pop wig, breeches, and gown, and take to my -bed; you'll find the three articles in this lane, corner house--sign, -three golden balls; present this docket--where the devil is it? ay, -here; all right--present this along with two guineas, paid in advance -on account of job: bring me the articles, and I'll get up and go along -with you in a brace of shakes. And stay; didn't I hear some one talking -of brandy? or--or was I dreaming? You may as well get in a half-pint, -for I'm never the thing till I have some little moderate refreshment; -so, dearly beloved, mizzle at once." - -"Dear me, dear me, doctor," said Chancey, "how can you think I'd go for -to bring two guineas along with me?" - -"If you haven't the _rhino_, this is no place for you, my fellow-sinner," -rejoined the couple-beggar; "and if you _have_, off with you and -deliver the togs out of pop. You wouldn't have a clergyman walk the -streets without breeches, eh, dearly beloved cove?" - -"Well, well, but you're a wonderful man," rejoined Chancey, with a -faint smile. "I suppose, then, I must do it; so give me the docket, and -I'll be here again as soon as I can." - -"And do you mind me, you stray sheep, you, don't forget the lush," -added the pastor. "I'm very desirous to wet my whistle; my mums, by the -hokey, is as dry as a Dutch brick. Good-bye to you, and do you mind, be -back here in the twinkling of a brace of bed-posts." - -With this injunction, and bearing the crumpled document, which the -reverend divine had given him, as his credentials with the pawnbroker, -Mr. Chancey cautiously lounged down the crazy stairs. - -"I say, my nutty Nancy," observed the parson, after a long yawn and a -stretch, addressing the female who sat at the window, "that chap's made -of money. I had a pint with him once in Clarke's public--round the -corner there. His name's Chancey, and he does half the bills in town--a -regular Jew chap." - -So saying, the Reverend Ebenezer Shycock, LL.D., unceremoniously rolled -himself out of bed and hobbled to a crazy deal box, in which were -deposited such articles of attire as had not been transmitted to the -obliging proprietor of the neighbouring three golden balls. - -While the reverend divine was kneeling before this box, and, with a -tenderness suited to their frail condition, removing the few scanty -articles of his wardrobe and laying them reverently upon a crazy stool -beside him, Mr. Chancey returned, bearing the liberated decorations of -the doctor's person, as also a small black bottle. - -"Oh, dear me, doctor," said Chancey, "but I'm glad to see you're -stirring. Here's the things." - -"And the--the lush, eh?" inquired the clergyman, peering inquisitively -round Chancey's side to have a peep at the bottle. - -"Yes, and the lush too," said the barrister. - -"Well, give me the breeches," said the doctor, with alacrity, clutching -those essential articles and proceeding to invest his limbs therein. -"And, Nancy, a sup of water and a brace of cups." - -A cracked mug and a battered pewter goblet made their appearance, and, -along with the ruin of a teapot which contained the pure element, were -deposited on a chair--for tables were singularly scarce in the reverend -doctor's establishment. - -"Now, my beloved fellow-sinner, mix like a Trojan!" exclaimed the -divine; "and take care, take care, pogey aqua, don't drown it with -water; chise it, _chise_ it, man, that'll do." - -With these words he grasped the vessel, nodded to Chancey, and -directing his two grey eyes with a greedy squint upon the liquor as it -approached his lips, he quaffed it at a single draught. - -Without waiting for an invitation, which Chancey thought his clerical -acquaintance might possibly forget, the barrister mingled some of the -same beverage for his own private use, and quietly gulped it down; -seeing which, and dreading Mr. Chancey's powers, which he remembered to -have already seen tested at "Clarke's public," the learned divine -abstractedly inverted the brandy bottle into his pewter goblet, and -shedding upon it an almost imperceptible dew from the dilapidated -teapot, he terminated the _symposium_ and proceeded to finish his -toilet. - -This was quickly done, and Mr. Gordon Chancey and the Reverend Ebenezer -Shycock--two illustrious and singularly well-matched ornaments of their -respective professions--proceeded arm in arm, both redolent of grog, to -the nearest coach stand, where they forthwith supplied themselves with -a vehicle; and while Mr. Chancey pretty fully instructed his reverend -companion in the precise nature of the service required of him, and, as -far as was necessary, communicated the circumstances of the whole case, -they traversed the interval which separated Dublin city from the manor -of Morley Court. - - - - -CHAPTER LVII. - -THE CHAPLAIN'S ARRIVAL AT MORLEY COURT--THE KEY--AND THE BOOZE IN THE -BOUDOIR. - - -The hall door was opened to the summons of the two gentlemen by no less -a personage than Nicholas Blarden himself, who, having carefully locked -it again, handed the key to his accomplice, Gordon Chancey. - -"Here, take it, Gordy, boy," exclaimed he, "I make you porter for the -term of the honeymoon. Keep the gates well, old boy, and never let the -keys out of your pocket unless I tell you. And so," continued he, -treating the Reverend Ebenezer Shycock to a stare which took in his -whole person, "you have caught the doctor and landed him fairly. -Doctor--what's your name? no matter--it's a delightful turn-up for a -sinner like me to have the heavenly consolation of your pious company. -Follow me in here; I dare say your reverence would not object to a -short interview with the brandy flask, or something of the kind--even -saints must wet their whistles now and again." - -So saying, Blarden led the way into the parlour. - -"Here, guzzle away, old gentleman, there's plenty of the stuff here," -said Blarden, "only beware how you make a beast of yourself. You -mustn't tie up your red rag, do you mind? We'll want you to stand and -read; and if you just keep senses enough for that, you may do whatever -you like with the rest." - -The clergyman nodded, and with a single sweep of his grey eyes, took in -the contents of the whole table. His shaking hand quickly grasped the -neck of the brandy flask, and he filled out and quaffed a comforting -bumper. - -"Now, take it easy, do, or, by Jove, you'll not _keep_ till evening," -said Blarden. "Chancey, have an eye on the parson, for his mind's so -intent on heaven that he may possibly forget where he is and what he's -doing. After dinner, Ashwoode and I have to go into town--some matters -that must be wound up before the evening's entertainment begins--we'll -be out, however, at eight o'clock or so. And mind this," he continued, -gripping the barrister's shoulder in his hand with an energizing -pressure, and speaking into his ear to secure attention, "you know that -little room upstairs wherein we had the bit of chat with my lady -love--the--the boudoir, I think they call it--now, mind me well--when -the dusk comes on, do you and his reverence there take your pipes and -your brandy, or whatever else you're amusing yourselves with at the -time, and sit in that same room together, so that not a mouse can cross -the floor unknown to you. Don't forget this, for we can't be too sharp. -Do you hear me, old Lucifer?" - -"Never fear, never fear," rejoined Mr. Chancey. "The Reverend Ebenezer -and I will spend the evening there--and, indeed, I declare to God, it's -a very neat little room, so it is, for a quiet pipe and a pot of sack." - -"Well, that's a point settled," rejoined Blarden. "And do you mind me, -don't let that beastly old sot knock himself up before we come home. Do -you hear me, old scarecrow," he continued, poking the reverend doctor -somewhere about the region of the abdomen with the hilt of his sword, -which he was adjusting at his side, and addressing himself to that -gentleman, "if I find you drunk when I return this evening, I'll make -it your last bout--I'll tap the brandy, old tickle pitcher, and stave -the cask, and send you to seek your fortune in the other world. Mind my -words--I'm not given to joking when I have real business on hand; and -faith, you'll find me as ready to _do_ as to promise." - -So saying, he left the room. - -"A rum cove, that, upon my little word," said the Reverend Ebenezer -Shycock, filling out another bumper of his beloved cordial. "Take the -bottle away at once; lock it up, my fellow-worm, lock it up, or I'll be -at it again. Lock it up while I have this glass in my hand, or I must -have another, and that might be--_might_, I say--_possibly_ might--but -d----n it, no, it can't--I will have one more." And so saying, with -desperate resolution, he quaffed what he had already in his hand and -filled out another. - -Chancey did not wait till he had repeated his mandate, but quietly -removed the seductive flask and placed it beyond the reach and the -sight of his clerical friend, who, feeling himself a little pleasant, -sat down before the hearth, and in a voice whose tone nearly resembled -that of a raven labouring under an affection of the chest, he chaunted -through his nose, with many significant winks and grimaces, a ditty at -that time in high acceptance among the votaries of vice and license, -and whose words were such as even the 'Old St. Columbkill' would hardly -have tolerated. This performance over--which, by the way, Chancey -relished in his own quiet way with intense enjoyment--the reverend -gentleman, composed himself for a doze for several hours, from which he -aroused himself to eat and to drink a little more. - -Thus pleasantly the day wore on, until at length the sun descended in -glory behind the far-off blue hills, and the pale twilight began to -herald the approach of night. - -That day Mary Ashwoode appeared to have lost all energy of thought and -feeling; she lay pale and silent upon her bed, seeming scarcely -conscious even of the presence of her faithful attendant. From the -moment of her yesterday's interview with Blarden, and the meeting with -her brother, she had been thus despairing and stupefied. Flora Guy sat -in the window, sometimes watching the pale face of the wretched lady, -and at others looking out upon the old woodlands and the great avenue, -darkened among its double rows of huge old limes. As the day wore on -she suddenly exclaimed,-- - -"Oh, my lady, here's a gentleman coming with Mr. Chancey up the avenue, -I see them between the trees, and the coach driving away." - -"Can it--_can_ it be?" exclaimed Mary, starting wildly up in the -bed--"is it he?" - -"It's a little stout gentleman, with a red pimply face--they're talking -under the window now, my lady; he has a band on, and a black gown -across his arm--as sure as daylight, my lady--he is--blessed hour; he -_is_ a parson." - -Mary Ashwoode did not speak, but the momentary flash of hope faded from -her face, and was succeeded by a paleness so deadly that lips and -cheeks looked bloodless as the marble lineaments of a statue; in dull -and silent despair she sank again where she had lain before. - -"Don't fear them, my lady," said the poor girl, placing herself by the -bedside where, more like a corpse than a living being, her hapless -mistress lay; "I will not leave you, and though they may threaten, they -dare not hurt you--don't fear them, my lady." - -The blanched cheeks and evident excitement of the honest maiden, -however, too clearly belied her words of encouragement. - -Twice or thrice the girl, in the course of the day, locking the door of -her mistress's chamber, according to the orders of Nicholas Blarden and -his confederates, but less in obedience to them than for the sake of -_her_ security, ran downstairs to learn whatever could be gathered from -the servants of the intended movements of the conspirators; each time, -as she descended the stairs, the parlour bell was rung, and a servant -encountered her before she had well reached the hall; and Mr. Chancey, -too, with his hands in his pockets, and his cunning eyes glittering -suspiciously through their half-closed lids, would meet and question -her before she passed: were ever sentinels more vigilant--was ever -_surveillance_ more jealous and complete? - -During these excursions she picked up whatever was to be learned of the -intentions of those in whose power her young mistress now helplessly -and despairingly lay. - -"Sir Henry Ashwoode and Mr. Blarden is gone to town together, my lady," -said the maid, in a whisper, for she felt the vigilance of Chancey and -his creatures might pursue her even to the chamber where she stood; -"they'll not be out till about eight o'clock, my lady, at the soonest, -maybe not till near nine or ten; at any rate it will be dark long -before they come, and God knows what may turn up before then--don't -lose heart, my lady--don't give up." - -In vain, entirely in vain, however, were the words of hope and courage -spoken; they fell cold and dead upon the palsied senses and stricken -heart of despairing terror. Mary Ashwoode scarcely understood, and -seemed not even to have heard them. - -As the evening approached the poor girl made another exploring ramble, -in the almost desperate speculation that she might possibly hit upon -something which might suggest even a hint of some mode of escape. -Having encountered Chancey and one of the serving men, as usual, and -passed her examination, she crossed the large old hall, and without any -definite pre-determination, entered Sir Henry's study, where he and -Blarden had been sitting, and carelessly thrown upon the table a large -key. For a moment she could scarcely believe her eyes, and her heart -bounded high with hope as she grasped it quickly and rolled it in her -apron--"Could it be the key of one of the doors through which alone -liberty was to be regained?" With a deliberate step, which strangely -belied her restless anxiety, she passed the door within which Chancey -was sitting, and ascended to the young lady's chamber. - -"My lady, is this it?" exclaimed she, almost breathless with -excitement, and holding the key before the lady's face. - -Mary Ashwoode with a momentary eagerness glanced at it. - -"No, no," said she, faintly, "I know all the keys of the outer doors; -it was I who brought them to my father every night; but this is none of -them--no, no, no, no." There was a dulness and apathy upon the young -lady, and a seeming insensibility to everything--to hope, to danger--to -all, in short, which had intensely interested every faculty of mind and -feeling but the day before--which frightened and dismayed her humble -friend. - -"Don't, my lady--don't give up--oh, sure you won't lose heart entirely; -see if I won't think of something--never mind, if I don't think of some -way or another yet." - -The red discoloured tints of evening were now fading from the -landscape, and rapidly giving place to the dim twilight--the harbinger -of a night of dangers, terrors, and adventures; and as the poor maiden -sat by the young lady's side, with a heart full of dark and ominous -foreboding, she heard the door of the outer chamber--the little boudoir -which we have often had occasion to mention--opened, and two persons -entered it. - -"They are here--they are come. Oh, God! they are here," exclaimed Mary -Ashwoode, clasping her small hand in terror round the girl's wrist. - -"The door's locked, my lady," said the girl, scarcely less terrified -than her mistress; "they can't come in without letting us know first.' -So saying, she ran to the door and peeped through the keyhole, to -reconnoitre the party, and then stepping on tip-toe to the young lady, -who, more dead than alive, was sitting by the bed-side, she said in a -whisper,-- - -"Who do you think it is, ma'am? blessed hour! my lady, who should it be -but that lawyer gentleman--that Mr. Chancey, and the old parson--they -are settling themselves at the table." - -Mr. Gordon Chancey and the Reverend Ebenezer Shycock were determined to -make themselves comfortable in their new quarters. Accordingly they -heaped wood and turf upon the expiring fire, and compelled the servant -to ply the kitchen bellows, until the hearth crackled and roared again; -then drawing the table to the fire-side--a pretty little work-table of -poor Mary's--now covered with brandy-flasks, pieces of tobacco, pipes, -and the other apparatus of their coarse debauch--the two worthies, -illuminated by a pair of ponderous wax-candles, and by the blaze of a -fire, and having drawn the curtains, sat themselves down and commenced -their jolly vigils. - -Chancey possessed the rare faculty of preserving his characteristic -cunning throughout every phase and stage of intoxication short of -absolute insensibility; on the present occasion, however, he was -resolved not to put this convenient accomplishment to the test. The -goodwill of Nicholas Blarden was too lucrative a possession to be -lightly parted with, and he could not afford to hazard it by too free -an indulgence upon the present important occasion; he therefore -conducted his assaults upon the bottle with a very laudable -abstemiousness. Not so, however, his clerical companion; he, too, had, -in connection with his convivial frailties, a compensating gift of his -own; he possessed, in an eminent degree, the power of recovering his -intellects upon short notice from the influence of brandy, and of -descending almost at a single bound from the loftiest altitude of -drunken inspiration to the dull insipid level of ordinary sobriety; all -he asked was fifteen minutes to bring himself to. He used to say with -becoming pride--"If I could have done it in _ten_, I'd have been a -bishop by this time; but _dis aliter visum_; I had not time one -forenoon; being wapper-eyed, I was five minutes short of my allowance -to get right, consequently officiated oddly--fell on my back on the way -out, and couldn't get up; but what signifies it? I'm better off, as -matters stand, ten to one; so here goes, my fellow-sinner, to it again; -one brimmer more." - -The reverend doctor, therefore, was much less cautious than his -companion, and soon began to exhibit very unequivocal symptoms of a -declension in his intellectual and physical energies, and a more than -corresponding elevation in his hilarious spirits. - -"I say," said Chancey, "my good man, you'd better stop; you have too -much in as it is; they'll be here before half-an-hour, and if Mr. -Blarden finds you this way, I declare to God I think he'll crack your -neck down the staircase." - -"Well, dearly beloved," said the clerical gentleman, "I believe you -_are_ right; I'll bring myself to. I _am_ a little heavy-eyed or so; -all I ask for is a towel and cold water." So saying, with many a screw -of the lips, and many a hiccough, he made an effort to rise, but -tumbled back--with an expression of the most heavenly benevolence--into -his chair, knocking his head with an audible sound upon the back of it, -and at the same time overturning one of the candles. - -"Pull the bell, dearly beloved," said he, with a smile and a -hiccough--"a basin of water and a towel." - -"Devil broil you, for a drunken beast," said Chancey, seriously alarmed -at the condition of the couple-beggar; "he'll never be fit for his work -to-night." - -"Fifteen minutes, neither more nor less," hiccoughed the divine, with -the same celestial smile--"towel, basin of cold water, and fifteen -minutes." - -Chancey did procure the cold water and a napkin, which, being laid -before the clergyman, he proceeded with much deliberation, while -various expressions of stupendous solemnity and beaming benevolence -flitted in beautiful alternations across his expressive countenance, to -prepare them for use. He doffed his wig, and first bathing his head, -face, and temples completely in the cool liquid, saturated the towel -likewise therein, and wound it round his shorn head in the fashion of a -Turkish turban; having accomplished which feat, he leaned back in his -chair, closed his eyes, and became, to all intents and purposes, for -the time being, stone dead. - -Leaving his reverend companion undisturbed to the operation of his own -hydropathic treatment, Gordon Chancey drew his seat near to the fire, -and filling his pipe anew with tobacco, leaned back in the chair, -crossed his legs, and more than half closing his eyes, prepared himself -luxuriously for what he called "a raal elegant draw of particular -pigtail." - - - - -CHAPTER LVIII. - -THE SIGNAL. - - -Flora Guy peeped eagerly through the keyhole of her lady's chamber into -the little apartment in which the two boon companions were seated. -After reconnoitring for a very long time, she moved lightly to her -mistress's side, and said, in a low but distinct tone,-- - -"Now, my lady, you must get up and rouse yourself--for God's sake, -mistress dear, shake off the heaviness that's over you, and we have a -chance left still." - -"Are they not in the next room to us?" inquired Mary. - -"Yes, my lady," replied the maid, "but the parson gentleman is drunk or -asleep, and Mr. Chancey is there alone--and--and has the four keys -beside him on the table; don't be frightened, my lady, do you stay -quite quiet, and I'll go into the room." - -Mary Ashwoode made no answer, but pressed the poor girl's hand in her -cold fingers, and without moving, almost without breathing, awaited the -result. Flora Guy, meanwhile, opened the door, and passed into the -outer apartment, assuming, as she did so, an air of easy and careless -indifference. Chancey turned as she entered the room, fanning the smoke -of his tobacco pipe aside with his hand, and eying her with a jealous -glance. - -"Well, my little girl," said he, "and what makes you leave your young -lady, my dear?" - -"An' is a body never to get an instant minute to themselves?" rejoined -she, with an indignant toss of her head; "why then, I tell you what it -is, Mr. Chancey, I'm tired to death, so I am, sitting in that little -room the whole blessed day, and not a word, good or bad, will the young -lady say--she's gone stupid like." - -"Is the door locked?" said Chancey, suspiciously, and at the same time -rising and approaching the young lady's chamber. - -As he did so, Flora Guy, availing herself instantly of this averted -position, snatched up, without waiting to choose, one of the four great -keys which lay upon the table, and replaced it dexterously with that -which she had but a short time before shown to her mistress; in doing -so, however, spite of all her caution, a slight clank was audible. - -"Well, _is_ it locked?" inquired the damsel, hoping by the loud tone in -which she uttered the question to drown the suspicious sounds which -threatened her schemes with instant detection. - -"Yes, it is locked," rejoined Chancey, glancing quickly at the keys; -"but what do you want there? move off from my place, will you?" and -shambling to the table he hastily gathered the four keys in his grasp, -and thrust them into his deep coat pocket. - -"You're in a mighty quare humour, so you are, Mr. Chancey," said the -girl, affecting a saucy tone, through which, had his ear been listening -for the sound, he might have detected the quaver of extreme agitation, -"you usedn't to be so cross by no means at the Columbkil, but mighty -pleasant, so you used." - -"Well, my little girl," said Chancey, whose suspicions were now -effectually quieted, "I declare to God you're the first that ever said -I was bad tempered, so you are--will you have something to drink?" - -"What have you there, Mr. Chancey?" inquired she. - -"This is brandy, my little girl, and this is sack, dear," rejoined -Chancey, "both of them elegant; you must have whichever you like--which -will you choose, dear?" - -"Well, then, I'll have a little drop of the sack, mulled, I thank you, -Mr. Chancey," replied she. - -"There's nothing to mull it in here, my little girl," objected the -barrister. - -"Oh, but I'll get it in a minute though," replied she, "I'll run down -for a saucepan." - -"Well, dear, run away," replied he, "but don't be long, for Miss -Ashwoode might want you, my little girl, and it wouldn't do if you were -out of the way, you know." - -Without waiting to hear the end of this charge, Flora Guy ran down the -staircase, and speedily returned with the utensil required. - -"Maybe I'd better go in for a minute first, and see if she wants me," -suggested the girl. - -"Very well, my dear," replied Chancey. - -And accordingly, she turned the key in the chamber door, closed it -again, and stood by the young lady's side; such was her agitation that -for three or four seconds she could not speak. - -"My lady," at length she said, "I have one of the keys--when I go in -next I'll leave your room door unlocked, only closed just, and no -more--the lobby door is ajar--I left it that way this very minute; and -when you hear me saying 'the sack's upset!'--do you open your door, and -cross the room as quick as light, and out on the lobby, and stop by the -stairs, my lady, and I'll follow you as fast as I can. Here, my lady," -continued the poor girl, bringing a small box from her mistress's -toilet; "your rings, my lady--they'll be wanted--mind, your rings, my -lady--there is the little case, keep it in your pocket; if we escape, -my lady, they'll be wanted--mind, Mr. Chancey has ears like needle -points. Keep up your heart, my lady, and in the name of God we'll try -this chance." - -"Into His hands I commit myself," said the young lady, with a tone and -air of more firmness and energy than she had shown for days; "my heart -is strengthened, my courage comes again--oh, thank God, I am equal to -this dreadful hour." - -Flora Guy made a gesture of silence, and then, opening the door -briskly, and shutting it again with an ostentatious noise, and drawing -the key from the lock, she crossed the room to where Chancey, who had -watched her entrance, was sitting. - -"Well, my dear," said he, "how is that delicate young lady in there?" - -"Why, she's raythur bad, I'm afraid," rejoined the girl; "she's the -whole day long in a sort of a heavy dulness like--she don't seem to -mind anything." - -"So much the better, my dear," said Chancey, "she'll be the less -inclined to gad, or to be troublesome--come, mix the spices and the -sugar, dear, and settle the liquor in the saucepan--you want some -refreshment, so you do, for I declare to God, I never saw anyone so -pale in all my life as you are this minute." - -"I'll not be long so," said the girl, affecting a tone of briskness, -and proceeding to mingle the ingredients in the little saucepan, "for I -think if I was dead itself, let alone a little bit tired, a cup of -mulled sack would cheer me up again." - -So saying, she placed the little saucepan on the bar. - -"Is the parson asleep?" inquired she. - -"Indeed, my dear, I'm very much afraid it's tipsy he is," drawled -Chancey, demurely, "take care of that clergyman, my dear, for indeed -I'm afraid he has very loose conduct." - -"Will I blacken his nose with a burned cork?" inquired she. - -"Oh! no, my little girl," replied Chancey, with a tranquil chuckle, and -turning his sleepy grey eyes upon the apoplectic visage of the -stupefied drunkard who sat bolt upright before him; "no, no, we don't -know the minute he may be wanted; he'll have to perform the ceremony -very soon, my dear; and Mr. Blarden, if he took the fancy, would think -nothing of braining half a dozen of us. I declare to God he wouldn't." - -"Well, Mr. Chancey, will you mind the little saucepan for one minute," -said she, "while I'm putting a bit of turf or a few sticks under it." - -"Indeed I will," said he, turning his eyes lazily upon the utensil, but -doing nothing more to secure it. Flora Guy accordingly took some wood, -and, pretending to arrange the fire, overturned the wine; the loud hiss -of the boiling liquid, and the sudden cloud of whirling steam and -ashes, ascending toward the ceiling, and puffing into his face, half -confounded the barrister, and at the same instant, Flora Guy, clapping -her hands, and exclaimed with a shrill cry,-- - -"_The sack's upset! the sack's upset!_ lend a hand, Mr. Chancey--Mr. -Chancey, do you hear?" and, while thus conjured, the barrister, in -obedience to her vociferous appeal, made some indistinct passes at the -saucepan with the poker, which he had grasped at the first alarm; the -damsel, without daring to look directly where every feeling would have -riveted her eyes, beheld a dark form glide noiselessly behind Chancey, -and pass from the room. For the moment, so intense was her agony of -anxiety, she felt upon the very point of fainting; in an instant more, -however, she had recovered all her energies, and was bold and -quick-witted as ever; one glance in the direction of the lady's chamber -showed her the door slowly swinging open; fortunately the barrister was -at the moment too much occupied with the extraction of the remainder of -the saucepan from the fire, to have yet perceived the treacherous -accident, one glance at which would have sealed their ruin, and Flora -Guy, running noiselessly to the door, remedied the perilous disclosure -by shutting it softly and quickly; and then, with much clattering of -the key, and a good deal of pushing beside, forcing it open again, she -passed into the room and spoke a little in a low tone, as if to her -mistress; and then, returning, she locked the door of the then -untenanted chamber in real earnest, and, crossing to Chancey, said:--"I -wonder at you, so I do, Mr. Chancey; you frightened the young mistress -half out of her wits; and I'm all over dust and ashes; I must run down -and wash every inch of my face and hands, so I must; and here, Mr. -Chancey, will you keep the key of the bed-room till I come back? afraid -I might drop it; and don't let it out of your hands." - - [Illustration: "Glide noiselessly behind Chancey." - _To face page 293._] - -"I will indeed, dear; but don't be long away," rejoined the barrister, -extending his hand to receive the key of the now vacant chamber. - -So Flora Guy boldly walked forth upon the lobby, and closing the -chamber door behind her, found herself in the vast old gallery, hung -round with grim and antique portraits, and lighted only by the fitful -beams of a clouded moon shining doubtfully through the stained glass of -a solitary window. - -Mary Ashwoode awaited her approach, concealed in a small recess or -niche in the wall, shrined like an image in the narrow enclosure of -carved oak, not daring to stir, and with a heart throbbing as though it -would burst. - -"My lady, are you there?" whispered the maid, scarce audibly; great -nervous excitement renders the sense morbidly acute, and Mary Ashwoode -heard the sound distinctly, faint though it was, and at some distance -from her; she stepped falteringly from her place of concealment, and -took the hand of her conductress in a grasp cold as that of death -itself, and side by side they proceeded down the broad staircase. They -had descended about half-way when a loud and violent ringing from the -bell of the chamber where Chancey was seated made their very hearts -bound with terror; they stood fixed and breathless on the stair where -the fearful peal had first reached their ears. Again the summons came -louder still, and at the same moment the sounds of steps approached -from below, and the gleam of a candle quickly followed; Mary Ashwoode -felt her ears tingle and her head swim with terror; she was on the -point of sinking upon the floor. In this dreadful extremity her -presence of mind did not forsake Flora Guy: disengaging her hand from -that of her terrified mistress, she tripped lightly down the stairs to -meet the person who was approaching--a turn in the staircase confronted -them, and she saw before her the serving man whose treachery had -already defeated Mary Ashwoode's hopes of deliverance. - -"What keeps you such a time answering the bell?" inquired she, saucily, -"you needn't go up now, for I've got your message; bring up clean cups -and a clean saucepan, for everything's destroyed with the dust and dirt -Mr. Chancey's after kicking up; what did he do, do you think, but -upsets the sack into the fire. Now be quick with the things, will you? -the bell won't be easy one minute till they're done." - -"Give me a kiss, sweet lips," exclaimed the man, setting down his -candle, "and I'll not be a brace of shakes about the message; come, you -_must_," he continued, playfully struggling with the affrighted girl. - -"Well, do the message first, at any rate," said she, forcing herself, -with some difficulty, from his grasp, as the bell rang a third time; -"it will be a nice piece of business, so it will, if Mr. Chancey comes -down and catches you here, pulling me about, so it will, you'll look -well, won't you, when he's telling it to Mr. Blarden?--don't be a -fool." - -The reiterated application to the bell had more effect upon the serving -man than all her oratory, and muttering a curse or two, he ran down, -determined, vindictively, to bring up soiled cups, and a dirty -saucepan. The man had hardly departed, when the maid exclaimed, in a -hurried whisper, "Come--come--quick--quick, for your life!" and with -scarcely the interval of three seconds, they found themselves in the -hall. - -"Here's the key, my lady; see which of the doors does it open," -whispered she, exhibiting the key in the dusky and imperfect light. - -"Here--here--this way," said Mary Ashwoode, moving with weak and -stumbling steps through a tiled lobby which opened upon the great hall, -and thence along a narrow passage upon which several doors opened. -"Here, here," she exclaimed, "this door--this--I cannot open it--my -strength is gone--this is it--for God's sake, quickly." - -After two or three trials, Flora Guy succeeded in getting the key into -the lock, and then exerting the whole strength of her two hands, with a -hoarse jarring clang the bolt revolved, the door opened, and they stood -upon the fresh and dewy sward, beneath the shadow of the old -ivy-mantled walls. The girl locked the door upon the outside, fearful -that its lying open should excite suspicion, and flung the key away -into the thick weeds and brushwood. - -"Now, my lady, the shortest way to the high road?" inquired Flora in a -hurried whisper, and supporting, as well as she could, the tottering -steps of her mistress, "how do you feel, my lady? Don't lose heart now, -a few minutes more and you will be safe--courage--courage, my lady." - -"I am better now, Flora," said Mary faintly, "much better--the cool air -refreshes me." As she thus spoke, her strength returned, her step grew -fleeter and firmer, and she led the way round the irregular ivy-clothed -masses of the dark old building and through the stately trees that -stood gathered round it. Over the unequal sward they ran with the light -steps of fear, and under the darksome canopy of the vast and ancient -linden-trees, gliding upon the smooth grass like two ghosts among the -chequered shade and dusky light. On, on they sped, scarcely feeling the -ground beneath their feet as they pursued their terrified flight; they -had now gained the midway distance in the ancient avenue between the -mansion and great gate, and still ran noiselessly and fleetly along, -when the quick ear of Mary Ashwoode caught the distant sounds of -pursuit. - -"Flora--Flora--oh, God! we are followed," gasped the young lady. - -"Stop an instant, my lady," rejoined the maid, "let us listen for a -second." - -They did pause, and distinctly, between them and the old mansion, they -heard, among the dry leaves with which in places the ground was strewn, -the tread of steps pursuing at headlong speed. - -"It is--it is, I hear them," said Mary distractedly. - -"Now, my lady, we must run--run for our lives; if we but reach the road -before them, we may yet be saved; now, my lady, for God's sake don't -falter--don't give up." - -And while the sounds of pursuit grew momentarily louder and more loud, -they still held their onward way with throbbing hearts, and eyes almost -sightless with fatigue and terror. - - - - -CHAPTER LIX. - -HASTE AND PERIL. - - -The rush of feet among the leaves grew every moment closer and closer -upon them, and now they heard the breathing of their pursuer--the -sounds came near--nearer--they approached--they reached them. - -"Oh, God! they are up with us--they are upon us," said Mary, stumbling -blindly onward, and at the same moment she felt something laid heavily -upon her shoulder--she tottered--her strength forsook her, and she fell -helplessly among the branching roots of the old trees. - -"My lady--oh, my lady--thank God, it's only the dog," cried Flora Guy, -clapping her hands in grateful ecstasies; and at the same time, Mary -felt a cold nose thrust under her neck and her chin and cheeks licked -by her old favourite, poor Rover. More dead than alive, she raised -herself again to her feet, and before her sat the great old dog, his -tail sweeping the rustling leaves in wide circles, and his -good-humoured tongue lolling from among his ivory fangs. With many a -frisk and bound the fine dog greeted his long-lost mistress, and seemed -resolved to make himself one of the party. - -"No, no, poor Rover," said Mary, hurriedly--"we have rambled our last -together--home, Rover, home." - -The old dog looked wonderingly in the face of his mistress. - -"Home, Rover--home," repeated she, and the noble dog did credit to his -good training by turning dejectedly, and proceeding at a slow, broken -trot homeward, after stopping, however, and peeping round his shoulder, -as though in the hope of some signal relentingly inviting his return. - -Thus relieved of their immediate fears, the two fugitives, weak, -exhausted, and breathless, reached the great gate, and found themselves -at length upon the high road. Here they ventured to check their speed, -and pursue their way at a pace which enabled them to recover breath and -strength, but still fearfully listening for any sound indicative of -pursuit. - -The moon was high in the heavens, but the dark, drifting scud was -sailing across her misty disc, and giving to her light the character of -ceaseless and ever varying uncertainty. The road on which they walked -was that which led to Dublin city, and from each side was embowered by -tall old trees, and rudely fenced by unequal grassy banks. They had -proceeded nearly half-a-mile without encountering any living being, -when they heard, suddenly, a little way before them, the sharp clang of -horses' hoofs upon the road, and shortly after, the moon shining forth -for a moment, revealed distinctly the forms of two horsemen approaching -at a slow trot. - -"As sure as light, my lady, it's they," said Flora Guy, "I know Sir -Henry's grey horse--don't stop, my lady--don't try to hide--just draw -the hood over your head, and walk on steady with me, and they'll never -mind us, but pass on." - -With a throbbing heart, Mary obeyed her companion, and they walked side -by side by the edge of the grassy bank and under the tall trees--the -distance between them and the two mounted figures momentarily -diminishing. - -"I say he's as lame as a hop-jack," cried the well-known voice of -Nicholas Blarden, as they approached--"hav'n't you an eye in your head, -you mouth, you--look there--another false step, by Jove." - -Just at this moment the girls, looking neither to the right nor left, -and almost sinking with fear, were passing them by. - -"Stop you, one of you, will you?" said Blarden, addressing them, and at -the same time reining in his horse. - -Flora Guy stopped, and making a slight curtsey, awaited his further -pleasure, while Mary Ashwoode, with faltering steps and almost dead -with terror, walked slowly on. - -"Have you light enough to see a stone in a horse's hoof, my dimber -hen?--have you, I say?" - -"Yes, sir," faltered the girl, with another curtsey, and not venturing -to raise her voice, for fear of detection. - -"Well, look into them all in turn, will you?" continued Blarden, "while -I walk the beast a bit. Do you see anything? is there a stone -there?--is there?" - -"No, sir," said she again, with a curtsey. - -"No, sir," echoed he--"but I say 'yes, sir,' and I'll take my oath of -it. D----n it, it can't be a strain. Get down, Ashwoode, I say, and -look to it yourself; these blasted women are fit for nothing but -darning old stockings--get down, I say, Ashwoode." - -Without awaiting for any more formal dismissal, Flora Guy walked -quickly on, and speedily overtook her companion, and side by side they -continued to go at the same moderate pace, until a sudden turn in the -road interposing trees and bushes between them and the two horsemen, -they renewed their flight at the swiftest pace which their exhausted -strength could sustain; and need had they to exert their utmost speed, -for greater dangers than they had yet escaped were still to follow. - -Meanwhile Nicholas Blarden and Sir Henry Ashwoode mended their pace, -and proceeded at a brisk trot toward the manor of Morley Court. Both -rode on more than commonly silent, and whenever Blarden spoke, it was -with something more than his usual savage moroseness. No doubt their -rapid approach to the scene where their hellish cruelty and oppression -were to be completed, did not serve either to exhilarate their spirits -or to soothe the asperities of Blarden's ruffian temper. Now and then, -indeed, he did indulge in a few flashes of savage exulting glee at his -anticipated triumph over the hereditary pride of Sir Henry, against -whom, with all a coward's rancour, he still cherished a "lodged hate," -and in mortifying and insulting whom his kestrel heart delighted and -rioted with joy. As they approached the ancient avenue, as if by mutual -consent, they both drew bridle and reduced their pace to a walk. - -"You shall be present and give her away--do you mind?" said Blarden, -abruptly breaking silence. - -"There's no need for that--surely there is none?" said Ashwoode. - -"Need or no need, it's my humour," replied Blarden. - -"I've suffered enough already in this matter," replied Sir Henry, -bitterly; "there's no use in heaping gratuitous annoyances and -degradation upon me." - -"Ho, ho, running rusty," exclaimed Blarden, with the harsh laugh of -coarse insult--"running rusty, eh? I thought you were broken in by this -time--paces learned and mouth made, eh?--take care, take care." - -"I say," repeated Ashwoode, impetuously, "you can have no object in -compelling my presence, except to torment me." - -"Well, suppose I allow that--what then, eh?--ho, ho!" retorted Blarden. - -Sir Henry did not reply, but a strange fancy crossed his mind. - -"I say," resumed Blarden, "I'll have no argument about it; I choose it, -and what I choose must be done--that's enough." - -The road was silent and deserted; no sound, save the ringing of their -own horses' hoofs upon the stones, disturbed the stillness of the air; -dark, ragged clouds obscured the waning moon, and the shadows were -deepened further by the stooping branches of the tall trees which -guarded the road on either side. Ashwoode's hand rested upon the pommel -of his holster pistol, and by his side moved the wretch whose cunning -and ferocity had dogged and destroyed him--with startling vividness the -suggestion came. His eyes rested upon the dusky form of his companion, -all calculations of consequences faded away from his remembrance, and -yielding to the dark, dreadful influence which was upon him, he -clutched the weapon with a deadly gripe. - -"What are you staring at me for?--am I a stone wall, eh?" exclaimed -Blarden, who instinctively perceived something odd in Ashwoode's air -and attitude, spite of the obscurity in which they rode. - -The spell was broken. Ashwoode felt as if awaking from a dream, and -looked fearfully round, almost expecting to behold the visible presence -of the principle of mischief by his side, so powerful and vivid had -been the satanic impulse of the moment before. - -They turned into the great avenue through which so lately the fugitives -had fearfully sped. - -"We're at home now," cried Blarden; "come, be brisk, will you?" And so -saying, he struck Ashwoode's horse a heavy blow with his whip. The -spirited animal reared and bolted, and finally started at a gallop down -the broad avenue towards the mansion, and at the same pace Nicholas -Blarden also thundered to the hall door. - - - - -CHAPTER LX. - -THE UNTREASURED CHAMBER. - - -Their obstreperous summons at the door was speedily answered, and the -two cavaliers stood in the hall. - -"Well, all's right, I suppose?" inquired Blarden, tossing his gloves -and hat upon the table. - -"Yes, sir," replied the servant, "all but the lady's maid; Mr. -Chancey's been calling for her these five minutes and more, and we -can't find her." - -"How's this--all the doors locked?" inquired Blarden vehemently. - -"Ay, sir, every one of them," replied the man. - -"Who has the keys?" asked Blarden. - -"Mr. Chancey, sir," replied the servant. - -"Did he allow them out of his keeping--did he?" urged Blarden. - -"No, sir--not a moment--for he was saying this very minute," answered -the domestic, "he had them in his pocket, and the key of Miss Mary's -room along with them; he took it from Flora Guy, the maid, scarce a -quarter of an hour ago." - -"Then all _is_ right," said Blarden, while the momentary blackness of -suspicion passed from his face, "the girl's in some hole or corner of -this lumbering old barrack, but here comes Chancey himself, what's all -the fuss about--who's in the upper room--the--the boudoir, eh?" he -continued, addressing the barrister, who was sneaking downstairs with a -candle in his hand, and looking unusually sallow. - -"The Reverend Ebenezer and one of the lads--they're sitting there," -answered Chancey, "but we can't find that little girl, Flora Guy, -anywhere." - -"Have you the keys?" asked Blarden. - -"Ay, dear me, to be sure I have, except the one that I gave to little -Bat there, to let you in this minute. I have the three other keys; dear -me--dear me--what could ail me?" And so saying, Chancey slapped the -skirt of his coat slightly so as to make them jingle in his pocket. - -"The windows are all fast and safe as the wall itself--screwed down," -observed Blarden, "let's see the keys--show them here." - -Chancey accordingly drew them from his pocket, and laid them on the -table. - -"There's the three of them," observed he, calmly. - -"Have you no more?" inquired Blarden, looking rather aghast. - -"No, indeed, the devil a one," replied Chancey, thrusting his arm to -the elbow in his coat pocket. - -"D--n me, but I think this is the key of the cellar," ejaculated -Blarden, in a tone which energized even the apathetic lawyer, "come -here, Ashwoode, what key's this?" - -"It _is_ the cellar key," said Ashwoode, in a faltering voice and -turning very pale. - -"Try your pockets for another, and find it, or ----." The aposiopesis -was alarming, and Blarden's direction was obeyed instantaneously. - -"I declare to God," said Chancey, much alarmed, "I have but the three, -and that in the door makes four." - -"You d----d oaf," said Blarden, between his set teeth, "if you have -botched this business, I'll let you know for what. Ashwoode, which of -the keys is missing?" - -After a moment's hesitation, Ashwoode led the way through the passage -which Mary and her companion had so lately traversed. - -"That's the door," said he, pointing to that through which the escape -had been effected. - -"And what's this?" cried Blarden, shouldering past Sir Henry, and -raising something from the ground, just by the door-post, "a -handkerchief, and marked, too--it's the young lady's own--give me the -key of the lady's chamber," continued he, in a low changed voice, which -had, in the ears of the barrister, something more unpleasant still than -his loudest and harshest tones--"give me the key, and follow me." - -He clutched it, and followed by the terror-stricken barrister, and by -Sir Henry Ashwoode, he retraced his steps, and scaled the stairs with -hurried and lengthy strides. Without stopping to glance at the form of -the still slumbering drunkard, or to question the servant who sat -opposite, on the chair recently occupied by Chancey, he strode directly -to the door of Mary Ashwoode's sleeping apartment, opened it, and stood -in an untenanted chamber. - -For a moment he paused, aghast and motionless; he ran to the bed--still -warm with the recent pressure of his intended victim--the room was, -indeed, deserted. He turned round, absolutely black and speechless with -rage. As he advanced, the wretched barrister--the tool of his worst -schemes--cowered back in terror. Without speaking one word, Blarden -clutched him by the throat, and hurled him with his whole power -backward. With tremendous force he descended with his head upon the bar -of the grate, and thence to the hearthstone; there, breathless, -powerless, and to all outward seeming a livid corpse, lay the devil's -cast-off servant, the red blood trickling fast from ears, nose, and -mouth. Not waiting to see whether Chancey was alive or dead, Mr. -Blarden seized the brandy flask and dashed it in the face of the stupid -drunkard--who, disturbed by the fearful hubbub, was just beginning to -open his eyes--and leaving that reverend personage drenched in blood -and brandy, to take care of his boon companion as best he might, -Blarden strode down the stairs, followed by Ashwoode and the servants. - -"Get horses--horses all," shouted he, "to the stables--by Jove, it was -they we met on the road--the two girls--quick to the stables--whoever -catches them shall have his hat full of crowns." - -Led by Blarden, they all hurried to the stables, where they found the -horses unsaddled. - -"On with the saddles--for your life be quick," cried Blarden, "four -horses--fresh ones." - -While uttering his furious mandates, with many a blasphemous -imprecation, he aided the preparations himself, and with hands that -trembled with eagerness and rage, he drew the girths, and buckled the -bridles, and in almost less than a minute, the four horses were led out -upon the broken pavement of the stable-yard. - -"Mind, boys," cried Blarden, "they are two mad-women--escaped -mad-women--ride for your lives. Ashwoode, do you take the right, and -I'll take the left when we come on the road--do you follow me, -Tony--and Dick, do you go with Sir Henry--and, now, devil take the -hindmost." With these words he plunged the spurs into his horse's -flanks, and with the speed of a thunder blast, they all rode -helter-skelter, in pursuit of their human prey. - - - - -CHAPTER LXI. - -THE CART AND THE STRAW. - - -While this was passing, the two girls continued their flight toward -Dublin city. They had not long passed Ashwoode and Nicholas Blarden, -when Mary's strength entirely failed, and she was forced first to -moderate her pace to a walk, and finally to stop altogether and seat -herself upon the bank which sloped abruptly down to the road. - -"Flora," said she, faintly, "I am quite exhausted--my strength is -entirely gone; I must perforce rest myself and take breath here for a -few minutes, and then, with God's help, I shall again have power to -proceed." - -"Do so, my lady," said Flora, taking her stand beside her mistress, -"and I'll watch and listen here by you. Hish! don't I hear the sound of -a car on the road before us?" - -So, indeed, it seemed, and at no great distance too. The road, however, -just where they had placed themselves, made a sweep which concealed the -vehicle, whatever it might be, effectually from their sight. The girl -clambered to the top of the bank, and thence commanding a view of that -part of the highway which beneath was hidden from sight, she beheld, -two or three hundred yards in advance of them, a horse and cart, the -driver of which was seated upon the shaft, slowly wending along in the -direction of the city. - -"My lady," said she, descending from her post of observation, "if you -have strength to run on for only a few perches more of the road, we'll -be up with a car, and get a lift into town without any more trouble; -try it, my lady." - -Accordingly they again set forth, and after a few minutes' further -exertion, they came up with the vehicle and accosted the driver, a -countryman, with a short pipe in his mouth, who, with folded arms, sat -listlessly upon the shaft. - -"Honest man, God bless you, and give us a bit of a lift," said Flora -Guy; "we've come a long way and very fast, and we are fairly tired to -death." - -The countryman drew the halter which he held, and uttering an -unspellable sound, addressed to his horse, succeeded in bringing him -and the vehicle to a standstill. - -"Never say it twiste," said he; "get up, and welcome. Wait a bit, till -I give the straw a turn for yees; not for it; step on the wheel; don't -be in dread, he won't move." - -So saying, he assisted Mary Ashwoode into the rude vehicle, and not -without wondering curiosity, for the hand which she extended to him was -white and slender, and glittered in the moonlight with jewelled rings. -Flora Guy followed; but before the cart was again in motion, they -distinctly heard the far-off clatter of galloping hoofs upon the road. -Their fears too truly accounted for these sounds. - -"Merciful God! we are pursued," said Mary Ashwoode; and then turning to -the driver, she continued, with an agony of imploring terror--"as you -look for pity at the dreadful hour when all shall need it, do not -betray us. If it be as I suspect, we are pursued--pursued with an -evil--a dreadful purpose. I had rather die a thousand deaths than fall -into the hands of those who are approaching." - -"Never fear," interrupted the man; "lie down flat both of you in the -cart and I'll hide you--never fear." - -They obeyed his directions, and he spread over their prostrate bodies a -covering of straw; not quite so thick, however, as their fears would -have desired; and thus screened, they awaited the approach of those -whom they rightly conjectured to be in hot pursuit of them. The man -resumed his seat upon the shaft, and once more the cart was in motion. - -Meanwhile, the sharp and rapid clang of the hoofs approached, and -before the horsemen had reached them, the voice of Nicholas Blarden was -shouting-- - -"Holloa--holloa, honest fellow--saw you two young women on the road?" - -There was scarcely time allowed for an answer, when the thundering -clang of the iron hoofs resounded beside the conveyance in which the -fugitives were lying, and the horsemen both, with a sudden and violent -exertion, brought their beasts to a halt, and so abruptly, that -although thrown back upon their haunches, the horses slid on for -several yards upon the hard road, by the mere impetus of their former -speed, knocking showers of fire flakes from the stones. - -"I say," repeated Blarden, "did two girls pass you on the road--did you -see them?" - -"Divil a sign of a girl I see," replied the man, carelessly; and to -their infinite relief, the two fugitives heard their pursuer, with a -muttered curse, plunge forward upon his way. This relief, however, was -but momentary, for checking his horse again, Blarden returned. - -"I say, my good chap, I passed you before to-night, not ten minutes -since, on my way out of town, not half-a-mile from this spot--the girls -were running this way, and if they're between this and the gate--they -must have passed you." - -"Devil a girl I seen this---- Oh, begorra! you're right, sure enough," -said the driver, "what the devil was I thinkin' about--two girls--one -of them tall and slim, with rings on her fingers--and the other a -short, active bit of a colleen?" - -"Ay--ay--ay," cried Blarden. - -"Sure enough they did overtake me," said the man, "shortly after I -passed two gentlemen--I suppose you are one of them--and the little one -axed me the direction of Harold's-cross--and when I showed it to them, -bedad they both made no more bones about it, but across the ditch with -them, an' away over the fields--they're half-way there by this time--it -was jist down there by the broken bridge--they were quare-looking -girls." - -"It would be d----d odd if they were not--they're both mad," replied -Blarden; "thank you for your hint." - -And so saying, as he turned his horse's head in the direction -indicated, he chucked a crown piece into the cart. As the conveyance -proceeded, they heard the driver soliloquizing with evident -satisfaction-- - -"Bedad, they'll have a plisint serenade through the fields, the two of -them," observed he, standing upon the shafts, and watching the progress -of the two horsemen--"there they go, begorra--over the ditch with them. -Oh, by the hokey, the sarvint boy's down--the heart's blood iv a -toss--an' oh, bloody wars! see the skelp iv the whip the big chap gives -him--there they go again down the slope--now for it--over the gripe -with them--well done, bedad, and into the green lane--devil take the -bushes, I can't see another sight iv them. Young women," he continued, -again assuming his sitting position, and replacing his pipe in the -corner of his mouth--"all's safe now--they're clean out of sight--you -may get up, miss." - -Accordingly, Mary Ashwoode and Flora Guy raised themselves. - -"Here," said the latter, extending her hand toward the driver, "here's -the silver he threw to you." - -"I wisht I could airn as much every day as aisily," said the man, -securing his prize; "that chap has raal villiany in his face; he looks -so like ould Nick, I'm half afeard to take his money; the crass of -Christ about us, I never seen such a face." - -"You're an honest boy at any rate," said Flora Guy, "you brought us -safe through the danger." - -"An' why wouldn't I--what else 'id I do?" rejoined the countryman; "it -wasn't for to sell you I was goin'." - -"You have earned my gratitude for ever," said Mary Ashwoode; "my -thanks, my prayers; you have saved me; your generosity, and humanity, -and pity, have delivered me from the deadliest peril that ever yet -overtook living creature. God bless you for it." - -She removed a ring from her finger, and added--"Take this; nay, do not -refuse so poor an acknowledgment for services inestimable." - -"No, miss, no," rejoined the countryman, warmly, "I'll not take it; -I'll not have it; do you think I could do anything else but what I did, -and you putting yourself into my hands the way you did, and trusting to -me, and laving yourselves in my power intirely? I'm not a Turk, nor an -unnatural Jew; may the devil have me, body and soul, the hour I take -money, or money's worth, for doin' the like." - -Seeing the man thus resolved, she forbore to irritate him by further -pressing the jewel on his acceptance, and he, probably to put an end to -the controversy, began to shake and chuck the rope halter with -extraordinary vehemence, and at the same time with the heel of his -brogue, to stimulate the lagging jade, accompanying the application -with a sustained hissing; the combined effect of all which was to cause -the animal to break into a kind of hobbling canter; and so they rumbled -and clattered over the stony road, until at length their charioteer -checked the progress of his vehicle before the hospitable door-way of -"The Bleeding Horse"--the little inn to which, in the commencement of -these records, we have already introduced the reader. - -"Hould that, if you plase," said he, placing the end of the halter in -Flora Guy's hand, "an' don't let him loose, or he'll be makin' for the -grass and have you upset in the ditch. I'll not be a minute in here; -and maybe the young lady and yourself 'id take a drop of something; the -evenin's mighty chill entirely." - -They both, of course, declined the hospitable proposal, and their -conductor, leaving them on the cart, entered the little hostelry; -outside the door were two or three cars and horses, whose owners were -boozing within; and feeling some return of confidence in the -consciousness that they were in the neighbourhood of persons who could, -and probably would, protect them, should occasion arise, Mary Ashwoode, -with her light mantle drawn around her, and the hood over her head, sat -along with her faithful companion, awaiting his return, under the -embowering shadow of the old trees. - -"Flora, I am sorely perplexed; I know not whither to go when we have -reached the city," said Mary, addressing her companion in a low tone. -"I have but one female relative residing in Dublin, and she would -believe, and think, and do, just as my brother might wish to make her. -Oh, woeful hour! that it should ever come to this--that I should fear -to trust another because she is my own brother's friend." - -She had hardly ceased to speak when a small man, with his cocked hat -set somewhat rakishly on one side, stepped forth from the little inn -door; he had just lighted his pipe, and was inhaling its smoke with -anxious attention lest the spark which he cherished should expire -before the ignition of the weed became sufficiently general; his walk -was therefore slow and interrupted; the top of his finger tenderly -moved the kindling tobacco, and his two eyes squinted with intense -absorption at the bowl of the pipe; by the time he had reached the back -of the cart in which Mary Ashwoode and her attendant were seated, his -labours were crowned by complete success, as was attested by the dense -volumes of smoke which at regular intervals he puffed forth. He carried -a cutting-whip under his arm, and was directing his steps toward a -horse which, with its bridle thrown over a gate-post, was patiently -awaiting his return. As he passed the rude vehicle in which the two -fugitives were couched, he happened to pause for a moment, and Mary -thought she recognized the figure before her as that of an old -acquaintance. - -"Is that Larry--Larry Toole?" inquired she. - -"It's myself, sure enough," rejoined that identical personage; "an' who -are you--a woman, to be sure, who else 'id be axin' for me?" - -"Larry, don't you know me?" said she. - -"Divil a taste," replied he. "I only see you're a female av coorse, why -wouldn't you, for, by the piper that played before Moses, I'm never out -of one romance till I'm into another." - -"Larry," said she, lowering her voice, "it is Miss Ashwoode who speaks -to you." - -"Don't be funnin' me, can't you?" rejoined Larry, rather pettishly. -"I've got enough iv the thricks iv women latterly; an' too much. I'm a -raal marthyr to famale mineuvers; there's a bump on my head as big as a -goose's egg, glory be to God! an' my bones is fairly aching with what -I've gone through by raison iv confidin' myself to the mercy of women. -Oh thunder----" - -"I tell you, Larry," repeated Mary, "I am, indeed, Miss Ashwoode." - -"No, but who are you, in earnest?" urged Larry Toole; "can't you put me -out iv pain at wonst; upon my sowl I don't know you from Moses this -blessed minute." - -"Well, Larry, although you cannot recognize my voice," said she, -turning back her hood so as to reveal her pale features in the -moonlight, "you have not forgotten my face." - -"Oh, blessed hour! Miss Mary," exclaimed Larry, in unfeigned amazement, -while he hurriedly thrust his pipe into his pocket, and respectfully -doffed his hat. - -"Hush, hush," said Mary, with a gesture of caution. "Put on your hat, -too; I wish to escape observation; put it on, Larry; it is my wish." - -Larry reluctantly complied. - -"Can you tell me where in town my uncle O'Leary is to be found?" -inquired she, eagerly. - -"Bedad, Miss Mary, he isn't in town at all," replied the man; "they say -he married a widdy lady about ten days ago; at any rate he's gone out -of town more than a week; I didn't hear where." - -"I know not whither to turn for help or counsel, Flora," said she, -despairingly, "my best friend is gone." - -"Well," said Larry--who, though entirely ignorant of the exact nature -of the young lady's fears, had yet quite sufficient shrewdness to -perceive that she was, indeed, involved in some emergency of -extraordinary difficulty and peril--"well, miss, maybe if you'd take a -fool's advice for once, it might turn out best," said Larry. "There's -an ould gentleman that knows all about your family; he was out at the -manor, and had a long discourse, himself and Sir Richard--God rest -him--a short time before the ould masther died; the gentleman's name is -Audley; and, though he never seen you but once, he wishes you well, and -'id go a long way to sarve you; an' above all, he's a raal rock iv -sinse. I'm not bad myself, but, begorra, I'm nothin' but a fool beside -him; now do you, Miss Mary, and the young girl that's along with you, -jist come in here; you can have a snug little room to yourselves, and -I'll go into town and have the ould gentleman out with you before you -know what you're about, or where you are; he'll ax no more than the -wind iv the word to bring him here in a brace iv shakes; and my name's -not Larry if he don't give you suparior advice." - -A slight thing determines a mind perplexed and desponding; and Mary -Ashwoode, feeling that whatever objection might well be started against -the plan proposed by Larry Toole, yet felt that, were it rejected, she -had none better to follow in its stead; anything rather than run the -risk of being placed again in her brother's keeping; there was no time -for deliberation, and therefore she at once adopted the suggestion. -Larry, accordingly, conducted them into the little inn, and consigned -them to the care of a haggard, slovenly girl, who, upon a hint from -that gentleman, conducted them to a little chamber, up a flight of -stairs, looking out upon the back yard, where, with a candle and a -scanty fire, she left the two anxious fugitives; and, as she descended, -they heard the clank of the iron shoes, as Larry spurred his horse into -a hard gallop, speeding like the wind upon his mission. - -The receding sounds of his rapid progress had, however, hardly ceased -to be heard, when the fears and anxieties which had been for a moment -forgotten, returned with heavier pressure upon the poor girl's heart, -and she every moment expected to hear the dreaded voices of her -pursuers in the passage beneath, or to see their faces entering at the -door. Thus restlessly and fearfully she awaited the return of her -courier. - - - - -CHAPTER LXII. - -THE COUNCIL--SHOWING WHAT ADVICE MR. AUDLEY GAVE, AND HOW IT WAS TAKEN. - - -Larry Toole was true to his word. Without turning from the direct -course, or pausing on his way for one moment, he accomplished the -service which he had volunteered, and in an incredibly short time -returned to the little inn, bringing Mr. Audley with him in a coach. - -With an air of importance and mystery, suitable to the occasion, the -little gentleman, followed by his attendant, proceeded to the chamber -where Miss Ashwoode and her maid were awaiting his arrival. Mary arose -as he entered the room, and Larry, from behind, ejaculated, in a tone -of pompous exultation, "Here he is, Miss Mary--Mr. Audley himself, an' -no mistake." - -"Tut, tut, Larry," exclaimed the little gentleman, turning impatiently -toward that personage, whose obstreperous announcement had disarranged -his plans of approach; "hold your tongue, Larry, I say--ahem!" - -"Mr. Audley," said Mary, "I hope you will pardon----" - -"Not one word of the kind--excuse the interruption--not a word," -exclaimed the little gentleman, gallantly waving his hand--"only too -much honour--too proud, Miss Ashwoode, I have long known something of -your family, and, strange as it may appear, have felt a peculiar -interest in you--although I had not the honour of your acquaintance--for -the sake of--of other parties. I have ever entertained a warm regard -for your welfare, and although circumstances are much, very much -changed, I cannot forget relations that once subsisted--ahem!" This was -said diplomatically, and he blew his nose with a short decisive twang. -"I understand, my poor young lady," he continued, relapsing into the -cordial manner that was natural to him, "that you are at this moment in -circumstances of difficulty, perhaps of danger, and that you have been -disappointed in this emergency by the absence of your relative, Major -O'Leary, with whose acquaintance, by-the-bye, I am honoured, and a more -worthy, warm-hearted--but no matter--in his absence, then, I venture to -tender my poor services--pray, if it be not too bold a request, tell me -fully and fairly, the nature of your embarrassment; and if zeal, -activity, and the friendliest dispositions can avail to extricate you, -you may command them all--pray, then, let me know what I _can_ do to -serve you." So saying, the old gentleman took the pale and lovely -lady's hand, with a mixture of tenderness and respect which encouraged -and assured her. - -Larry having withdrawn, she told the little gentleman all that she -could communicate, without disclosing her brother's implication in the -conspiracy. Even this reserve, the old gentleman's warm and kindly -manner, and the good-natured simplicity, apparent in all he said and -did, effectually removed, and the whole case, in all its bearings, and -with all its circumstances, was plainly put before him. During the -narrative, the little gentleman was repeatedly so transported with ire -as to slap his thigh, sniff violently, and mutter incoherent -ejaculations between his teeth; and when it was ended, was so far -overcome by his feelings, that he did not trust himself to address the -young lady, until he had a little vented his indignation by marching -and countermarching, at quick time, up and down the room, blowing his -nose with desperate abandonment, and muttering sundry startling -interjections. At length he grew composed, and addressing Mary -Ashwoode, observed,-- - -"You are quite right, my dear young lady--quite right, indeed, in -resolving against putting yourself into the hands of anybody under Sir -Henry's influence--perfectly right and wise. Have you _no_ relatives in -this country, none capable of protecting you, and willing to do so?" - -"I have, indeed, one relative," rejoined she, but----" - -"Who is it?" interrupted Audley. - -"An uncle," replied Mary. - -"His name, my dear--his name?" inquired the old gentleman, impatiently. - -"His name is French--Oliver French," replied she, "but----" - -"Never mind," interrupted Audley again, "where does he live?" - -"He lives in an old place called Ardgillagh," rejoined she, "on the -borders of the county of Limerick." - -"Is it easily found out?--near the high road from Dublin?--near any -town?--easily got at?" inquired he, with extra-ordinary volubility. - -"I've heard my brother say," rejoined she, "that it is not far from the -high road from Dublin; he was there himself. I believe the place is -well known by the peasantry for many miles round; but----" - -"Very good, very good, my dear," interposed Mr. Audley again. "Has he a -family--a wife?" - -"No," rejoined Mary; "he is unmarried, and an old man." - -"Pooh, pooh! why the devil hasn't he a wife? but no matter, you'll be -all the welcomer. That's our ground--all the safer that it's a little -out of the way," exclaimed the old man. "We'll steal a march--they'll -never suspect us; we'll start at once." - -"But I fear," said Mary, dejectedly, "that he will not receive me. -There has long been an estrangement between our family and him; with my -father he had a deadly quarrel while I was yet an infant. He vowed that -neither my father nor any child of his should ever cross his threshold. -I've been told he bitterly resented what he believed to have been my -father's harsh treatment of my mother. I was too young, however, to -know on which side the right of the quarrel was; but I fear there is -little hope of his doing as you expect, for some six or seven years -since my brother was sent down, in the hope of a reconciliation, and in -vain. He returned, reporting that my uncle Oliver had met all his -advances with scorn. No, no, I fear--I greatly fear he will not receive -me." - -"Never believe it--never think so," rejoined old Audley, warmly; "if he -were man enough to resent your mother's wrongs, think you his heart -will have no room for yours? Think you his nature's changed, that he -cannot pity the distressed, and hate tyranny any longer? Never believe -me, if he won't hug you to his heart the minute he sees you. I like the -old chap; he was right to be angry--it was his duty to be in a -confounded passion; he ought to have been kicked if he hadn't done just -as he did--I'd swear he was right. Never trust me, if he'll not take -your part with his whole heart, and make you his pet for as long as you -please to stay with him. Deuce take him, I like the old fellow." - -"You would advise me, then, to apply to him for protection?" asked Mary -Ashwoode, "and I suppose to go down there immediately." - -"Most unquestionably so," replied Mr. Audley, with a short nod of -decision--"most unquestionably--start to-night; we shall go as far as -the town of Naas; I will accompany you. I consider you my ward until -your natural protectors take you under their affectionate charge, and -guard you from grief and danger as they ought. My good girl," he -continued, addressing Flora Guy, "you must come along with your -mistress; I've a coach at the door. We shall go directly into town, and -my landlady shall take you both under her care until I have procured -two chaises, the one for myself, and the other for your mistress and -you. You will find Mrs. Pickley, my landlady, a very kind, excellent -person, and ready to assist you in making your preparations for the -journey." - -The old gentleman then led his young and beautiful charge, with a -mixture of gallantry and pity, by the hand down the little inn stairs, -and in a very brief time Mary Ashwoode and her faithful attendant found -themselves under the hospitable protection of Mrs. Pickley's roof-tree. - - - - -CHAPTER LXIII. - -PARTING--THE SHELTERED VILLAGE, AND THE JOURNEY'S END. - - -Never was little gentleman in such a fuss as Mr. Audley--never were so -many orders issued and countermanded and given again--never were Larry -Toole's energies so severely tried and his intellects so -distracted--impossible tasks and contradictory orders so "huddled on -his back," that he well nigh went mad under the burthen; at length, -however, matters were arranged, two coaches with post-horses were -brought to the door, Mary Ashwoode and her attendant were deposited in -one, along with such extempore appliances for wardrobe and toilet as -Mrs. Pickley, in a hurried excursion, was enabled to collect from the -neighbouring shops and pack up for the journey, and Mr. Audley stood -ready to take his place in the other. - -"Larry," said he, before ascending, "here are ten guineas, which will -keep you in bread and cheese until you hear from me again; don't on any -account leave the 'Cock and Anchor,' your master's horse and luggage -are there, and, no doubt, whenever he returns to Dublin, which I am -very certain must soon occur, he will go directly thither; so be you -sure to meet him there, should he happen during my absence to arrive; -and mark me, be very careful of this letter, give it him the moment you -see him, which, please God, will be very soon indeed; keep it in some -safe place--don't carry it in your breeches pocket, you blockhead, -you'll grind it to powder, booby! indeed, now that I think on't, you -had better give it at once in charge to the innkeeper of the 'Cock and -Anchor;' don't forget, on your life I charge you, and now good-night." - -"Good-night, and good luck, your honour, and may God speed you!" -ejaculated Larry, as the vehicles rumbled away. The charioteers had -received their directions, and Mary Ashwoode and her trusty companion, -confused and bewildered by the rapidity with which events had succeeded -one another during the day, and stunned by the magnitude of the dangers -which they had so narrowly escaped, found themselves, scarcely -crediting the evidence of their senses, rapidly traversing the interval -which separated Dublin city from the little town of Naas. - -It is not our intention to weary our readers with a detailed account of -the occurrences of the journey, nor to present them with a catalogue of -all the mishaps and delays to which Irish posting in those days, and -indeed much later, was liable; it is enough to state that upon the -evening of the fourth day the two carriages clattered into the wretched -little village which occupied the road on which opened the avenue -leading up to the great house of Ardgillagh. The village, though -obviously the abode of little comfort or cheerfulness, was not on that -account the less picturesque; the road wound irregularly where it -stood, and was carried by an old narrow bridge across a wayward -mountain stream which wheeled and foamed in many a sportive eddy within -its devious banks. Close by, the little mill was couched among the -sheltering trees, which, extending in irregular and scattered groups -through the village, and mingling with the stunted bushes and briars of -the hedges, were nearly met from the other side of the narrow street by -the broad branching limbs of the giant trees which skirted the wild -wooded domain of Ardgillagh. Thus occupying a sweeping curve of the -road, and embowered among the shadowy arches of the noble timber, the -little village had at first sight an air of tranquillity, seclusion, -and comfort, which made the traveller pause to contemplate its simple -attractions and to admire how it could be that a few wretched hovels -with crazy walls and thatch overgrown with weeds, thus irregularly -huddled together beneath the rude shelter of the wood, could make a -picture so pleasing to the eye and so soothing to the heart. The -vehicles were drawn up by their drivers before the door of a small -thatched building which, however, stood a whole head and shoulders -higher than the surrounding hovels, exhibiting a second storey with -three narrow windows in front, and over its doorway, from which a large -pig, under the stimulus of a broomstick, was majestically issuing, a -sign-board, the admiration of connoisseurs for miles round, presenting -a half-length portrait of the illustrious Brian Borhome, and admitted -to be a startling likeness. Before this mansion--the only one in the -place which pretended to the character of a house of public -entertainment--the post-boys drew bridle, and brought the vehicles to a -halt. Mr. Audley was upon the road in an instant, and with fussy -gallantry assisting Mary Ashwoode to descend. Their sudden arrival had -astounded the whole household--consternation and curiosity filled the -little establishment. The proprietor, who sat beneath the capacious -chimney, started to his feet, swallowing, in his surprise, a whole -potato, which he was just deliberately commencing, and by a miracle -escaped choking. The landlady dropped a pot, which she was scrubbing, -upon the back of a venerable personage who was in a stooping posture, -lighting his pipe, and inadvertently wiped her face in the pot clout; -everybody did something wrong, and nobody anything right; the dog was -kicked and the cat scalded, and in short, never was known in the little -village of Ardgillagh, within the memory of man, except when Ginckle -marched his troops through the town, such a universal hubbub as that -which welcomed the two chaises and their contents to the door of Pat -Moroney's hospitable mansion. - -Mrs. Moroney, with more lampblack upon her comely features than she was -at that moment precisely aware of, hastened to the door, which she -occupied as completely and exclusively as the corpulent specimen of -Irish royalty over her head did his proper sign-board; all the time -gazing with an admiring grin upon Mr. Audley and the lady whom he -assisted to descend; and at exceedingly short and irregular intervals, -executing sundry slight ducks, intended to testify her exuberant -satisfaction and respect, while all around and about her were thrust -the wondering visages of the less important inmates of the -establishment; many were the murmured criticisms, and many the -ejaculations of admiration and surprise, which accompanied every -movement of the party under observation. - -"Oh! but she's a fine young lady, God bless her!" said one. - -"But isn't she mighty pale, though, entirely?" observed another. - -"That's her father--the little stout gentleman; see how he houlds her -hand for fear she'd thrip comin' out. Oh! but he's a nate man!" -remarked a third. - -"An' her hand as white as milk; an' look at her fine rings," said a -fourth. - -"She's a rale lady; see the grand look of her, and the stately step, -God bless her!" said a fifth. - -"See, see; here's another comin' out; that's her sisther," remarked -another. - -"Hould your tongues, will yees?" ejaculated the landlady, jogging her -elbow at random into somebody's mouth. - -"An' see the little one taking the box in her hand," observed one. - -"Look at the tall lady, how she smiles at her, God bless her! she's a -rale good lady," remarked another. - -"An' now she's linkin' with him, and here they come, by gorra," -exclaimed a third. - -"Back with yees, an' lave the way," exclaimed Mrs. Moroney; "don't you -see the quality comin'?" - -Accordingly, with a palpitating heart, the worthy mistress of King -Brian Borhome prepared to receive her aristocratic guests. With due -state and ceremony she conducted them into the narrow chamber which, -except the kitchen, was the only public apartment in the establishment. -After due attention to his fair charge, Mr. Audley inquired of the -hostess,-- - -"Pray, my good worthy woman, are we not now within a mile or less of -the entrance into the domain of Ardgillagh?" - -"The gate's not two perches down the road, your honour," replied she; -"is it to the great house you want to go, sir?" - -"Yes, my good woman; certainly," replied he. - -"Come here, Shawneen, come, asthore!" cried she, through the half-open -door. "I'll send the little gossoon with you, your honour; he'll show -you the way, and keep the dogs off, for they all knows him up at the -great house. Here, Shawneen; this gintleman wants to be showed the way -up to the great house; and don't let the dogs near him; do you mind? He -hasn't much English," said she, turning to her guest, by way of -apology, and then conveying her directions anew in the mother tongue. - -Under the guidance of this ragged little urchin, Mr. Audley accordingly -set forth upon his adventurous excursion. - -Mrs. Moroney brought in bread, milk, eggs, and in short, the best cheer -which her limited resources could supply; and, although Mary Ashwoode -was far too anxious about the result of Mr. Audley's visit to do more -than taste the tempting bowl of new milk which was courteously placed -before her, Flora Guy, with right good will and hearty appetite, did -ample justice to the viands which the hostess provided. - -After some idle talk between herself and Flora Guy, Mrs. Moroney -observed in reply to an interrogatory from the girl,-- - -"Twenty or thirty years ago there wasn't such a fox-hunter in the -country as Mr. French; but he's this many a year ailing, and winter -after winter, it's worse and worse always he's getting, until at last -he never stirs out at all; and for the most part he keeps his bed." - -"Is anyone living with him?" inquired Flora. - -"No, none of his family," answered she; "no one at all, you may say; -there's no one does anything in his place, an' very seldom anyone sees -him except Mistress Martha and Black M'Guinness; them two has him all -to themselves; and, indeed, there's quare stories goin' about them." - - - - -CHAPTER LXIV. - -MISTRESS MARTHA AND BLACK M'GUINNESS. - - -Mr. Audley, preceded by his little ragged guide, walked thoughtfully on -his way to visit the old gentleman, of whose oddities and strange and -wayward temper the keeper of the place where they had last obtained a -relay of horses had given a marvellous and perhaps somewhat exaggerated -account. Now that he had reached the spot, and that the moment -approached which was to be the crisis of the adventure, he began to -feel far less confident of success than he had been while the issue of -his project was comparatively remote. - -They passed down the irregular street of the village, and beneath the -trees which arched overhead like the vast and airy aisles of some huge -Gothic pile, and after a short walk of some two or three hundred yards, -during which they furnished matter of interesting speculation to half -the village idlers, they reached a rude gate of great dimensions, but -which had obviously seen better days. There was no lodge or gate-house, -and Mr. Audley followed the little conductor over a stile, which -occupied the side of one of the great ivy-mantled stone piers; crossing -this, he found himself in the demesne. A broken and irregular avenue or -bridle track--for in most places it was little more--led onward over -hill and through hollow, along the undulations of the soft green sward, -and under the fantastic boughs of gnarled thorns and oaks and sylvan -birches, which in thick groups, wild and graceful as nature had placed -them, clothed the varied slopes. The rude approach which they followed -led them a wayward course over every variety of ground--now flat and -boggy, again up hill, and over the grey surface of lichen-covered -rocks--again down into deep fern-clothed hollows, and then across the -shallow, brawling stream, without bridge or appliance of any kind, but -simply through its waters, forced, as best they might, to pick their -steps upon the moss-grown stones that peeped above the clear devious -current. Thus they passed along through this wild and extensive -demesne, varied by a thousand inequalities of ground and by the -irregular grouping of the woods, which owed their picturesque -arrangement to the untutored fancies of nature herself, whose dominion -had there never known the intrusions of the axe, or the spade, or the -pruning-hook, but exulted in the unshackled indulgence of all her -wildest revelry. After a walk of more than half-an-hour's duration, -through a long vista among the trees, the grey gable of the old mansion -of Ardgillagh, with its small windows and high and massive chimney -stacks, presented itself. - -There was a depressing air of neglect and desertion about the old -place, which even the unimaginative temperament of Mr. Audley was -obliged to acknowledge. Rank weeds and grass had forced their way -through the pavement of the courtyard, and crowded in patches of -vegetation even to the very door of the house. The same was observable, -in no less a degree, in the great stable-yard, the gate of which, -unhinged, lay wide open, exhibiting a range of out-houses and stables, -which would have afforded lodging for horse and man to a whole regiment -of dragoons. Two men, one of them in livery, were loitering through the -courtyard, apparently not very well knowing what to do with themselves; -and as the visitors approached, a whole squadron of dogs, the little -ones bouncing in front with shrill alarm, and the more formidable, at a -majestic canter and with deep-mouthed note of menace, bringing up the -rear, came snarling, barking, and growling, towards the intruders at -startling speed. - -"Piper, Piper, Toby, Fan, Motheradauna, Boxer, Boxer, Toby!" screamed -the little guide, advancing a few yards before Mr. Audley, who, in -considerable uneasiness, grasped his walking cane with no small energy. -The interposition of the urchin was successful, the dogs recognized -their young friend, the angry clangour was hushed and their pace -abated, and when they reached Mr. Audley and his guide, in compliment -to the latter they suffered the little gentleman to pass on, with no -further question than a few suspicious sniffs, as they applied their -noses to the calves of that gentleman's legs. As they continued to -approach, the men in the court, now alarmed by the vociferous challenge -of the dogs, eyed the little gentleman inquisitively, for a visitor at -Ardgillagh was a thing that had not been heard of for years. As Mr. -Audley's intention became more determinate, and his design appeared -more unequivocally to apply for admission, the servant, who watched his -progress, ran by some hidden passage in the stable-yard into the -mansion and was ready to gratify his curiosity legitimately, by taking -his post in the hall in readiness to answer Mr. Audley's summons, and -to hold parley with him at the door. - -"Is Mr. French at home?" inquired Mr. Audley. - -"Ay, sir, he is at home," rejoined the man, deliberately, to allow -himself time fully to scrutinize the visitor's outward man. - -"Can I see him, pray?" asked the little gentleman. - -"Why, raly, sir, I can't exactly say," observed the man, scratching his -head. "He's upstairs in his own chamber--indeed, for that matter, he's -seldom out of it. If you'll walk into the room there, sir, I'll -inquire." - -Accordingly, Mr. Audley entered the apartment indicated and sat himself -down in the deep recess of the window to take breath. He well knew the -kind of person with whom he had to deal, previously to encountering -Oliver French in person. He had heard quite enough of Mistress Martha -and of Black M'Guinness already, to put him upon his guard, and fill -him with just suspicions as to their character and designs; he -therefore availed himself of the little interval to arrange his plans -of operation in his own mind. He had not waited long, when the door -opened, and a tall, elderly woman, with a bunch of keys at her side, -and arrayed in a rich satin dress, walked demurely into the room. There -was something unpleasant and deceitful in the expression of the -half-closed eyes and thin lips of this lady which inspired Mr. Audley -with instinctive dislike of her--an impression which was rather -heightened than otherwise by the obvious profusion with which her -sunken and sallow cheeks were tinged with rouge. This demure and -painted lady made a courtesy on seeing Mr. Audley, and in a low and -subdued tone which well accorded with her meek exterior, inquired,-- - -"You were asking for Mr. Oliver French, sir?" - -"Yes, madam," replied Mr. Audley, returning the salute with a bow as -formal; "I wish much to see him, if he could afford me half an hour's -chat." - -"Mr. French is very ill--very--very poorly, indeed," said Mistress -Martha, closing her eyes, and shaking her head. "He dislikes talking to -strangers. Are you a relative, pray, sir?" - -"Not I, madam--not at all, madam," rejoined Mr. Audley. - -A silence ensued, during which he looked out for a minute at the view -commanded by the window; and as he did so, he observed with the corner -of his eyes that the lady was studying him with a severe and searching -scrutiny. She was the first to break the silence. - -"I suppose it's about business you want to see him?" inquired she, -still looking at him with the same sharp glance. - -"Just so," rejoined Mr. Audley; "it is indeed upon business." - -"He dislikes transacting business or speaking of it himself," said she. -"He always employs his own man, Mr. M'Guinness. I'll call Mr. -M'Guinness, that you may communicate the matter to him." - -"You must excuse me," said Mr. Audley. "My instructions are to give my -message to Mr. Oliver French in person--though indeed there's no secret -in the matter. The fact is, Madam, my mission is of a kind which ought -to make me welcome. You understand me? I come here to announce a--a--an -acquisition, in short a sudden and, I believe, a most unexpected -acquisition. But perhaps I've said too much; the facts are for his own -ear solely. Such are my instructions; and you know I have no choice. -I've posted all the way from Dublin to execute the message; and between -ourselves, should he suffer this occasion to escape him, he may never -again have an opportunity of making such an addition to--but I must -hold my tongue--I'm prating against orders. In a word, madam, I'm -greatly mistaken, or it will prove the best news that has been told in -this house since its master was christened." - -He accompanied his announcement with a prodigious number of nods and -winks of huge significance, and all designed to beget the belief that -he carried in his pocket the copy of a will, or other instrument, -conveying to the said Oliver French of Ardgillagh the gold mines of -Peru, or some such trifle. - -Mistress Martha paused, looked hard at him, then reflected again. At -length she said, with the air of a woman who has made up her mind,-- - -"I dare to say, sir, it _is_ possible for you to see Mr. French. He is -a little better to-day. You'll promise not to fatigue him--but you must -first see Mr. M'Guinness. He can tell better than I whether his master -is sufficiently well to-day for an interview of the kind." - -So saying, Mrs. Martha sailed, with saint-like dignity, from the room. - -"_She_ rules the roost, I believe," said Mr. Audley within himself. "If -so, all's smooth from this forth. Here comes the gentleman, -however--and, by the laws, a very suitable co-mate for that painted -Jezebel." - -As Mr. Audley concluded this criticism, a small man, with a greasy and -dingy complexion, and in a rusty suit of black, made his appearance. - -This individual was, if possible, more subdued, meek, and -Christian-like than the lady who had just evacuated the room in his -favour. His eyes were, if possible, habitually more nearly closed; his -step was as soft and cat-like to the full; and, in a word, he was in -air, manner, gait, and expression as like his accomplice as a man can -well be to one of the other sex. - -A short explanation having passed between this person and Mr. Audley, -he retired for a few minutes to prepare his master for the visit, and -then returning, conducted the little bachelor upstairs. - - - - -CHAPTER LXV. - -THE CONFERENCE--SHOWING HOW OLIVER FRENCH BURST INTO A RAGE AND FLUNG -HIS CAP ON THE FLOOR. - - -Mr. Audley followed Black M'Guinness as we have said up the stairs, and -was, after an introductory knock at the door, ushered by him into -Oliver French's bed-room. Its arrangements were somewhat singular--a -dressing-table with all the appliances of the most elaborate -cultivation of the graces, and a huge mirror upon it, stood directly -opposite to the door; against the other wall, between the door and this -table, was placed a massive sideboard covered with plate and wine -flasks, cork-screws and cold meat, in the most admired disorder--two -large presses were also visible, one of which lay open, exhibiting -clothes, and papers, and other articles piled together in a highly -original manner--two or three very beautiful pictures hung upon the -walls. At the far end of the room stood the bed, and at one side of it -a table covered with wines and viands, and at the other, a large -iron-bound chest, with a heavy bunch of keys dangling from its lock--a -little shelf, too, occupied the wall beside the invalid, abundantly -stored with tall phials with parchment labels, and pill-boxes and -gallipots innumerable. In the bed, surrounded by the drapery of the -drawn curtains, lay, or rather sat, Oliver French himself, propped up -by the pillows: he was a corpulent man, with a generous double chin; a -good-natured grey eye twinkled under a bushy, grizzled eye-brow, and a -countenance which bore unequivocally the lines of masculine beauty, -although considerably disfigured by the traces of age, as well as of -something very like intemperance and full living: he wore a silk -night-gown and a shirt of snowy whiteness, with lace ruffles, and on -his head was a crimson velvet cap. - -Grotesque as were the arrangements of the room, there was, -nevertheless, about its occupant an air of aristocratic superiority and -ease which at once dispelled any tendency to ridicule. - -"Mr. Audley, I presume," said the invalid. - -Mr. Audley bowed. - -"Pray, sir, take a chair. M'Guinness, place a chair for Mr. Audley, -beside the table here. I am, as you see, sir," continued he, "a -confirmed valetudinarian; I suffer abominably from gout, and have not -been able to remove to my easy chair by the fire for more than a week. -I understand that you have some matters of importance to communicate to -me; but before doing so, let me request of you to take a little wine, -you can have whatever you like best--there's some Madeira at your elbow -there, which I can safely recommend, as I have just tasted it -myself--o-oh! d---- the gout--you'll excuse me, sir--a cursed twinge." - -"Very sorry to see you suffering," responded Mr. Audley--"very, indeed, -sir." - -"It sha'n't, however, prevent my doing you reason, sir," replied he, -with alacrity. "M'Guinness, two glasses. I drink, sir, to our better -acquaintance. Now, M'Guinness, you may leave the room." - -Accordingly Mr. M'Guinness withdrew, and the gentlemen were left -_tête-à-tête_. - -"And now, sir," continued Oliver French, "be so good as to open the -subject of your visit." - -Mr. Audley cleared his voice twice or thrice, in the hope of clearing -his head at the same time, and then, with some force and embarrassment, -observed,-- - -"I am necessarily obliged, Mr. French, to allude to matters which may -possibly revive unpleasant recollections. I trust, indeed, my dear -sir,--I'm sure that you will not suffer yourself to be distressed or -unduly excited, when I tell you that I must recall to your memory a -name which I believe does not sound gratefully to your ear--the name of -Ashwoode." - -"Curse them," was the energetic commentary of the invalid. - -"Well, sir, I dare venture to say that you and I are not very much at -variance in our estimate of the character of the Ashwoodes generally," -said Mr. Audley. "You are aware, I presume, that Sir Richard has been -some time dead." - -"Ha! actually _gone_ to hell?--no, sir, I was not aware of this. Pray, -proceed, sir," responded Oliver French. - -"I am aware, sir, that he treated his lady harshly," resumed Audley. - -"Harshly, _harshly_, sir," cried the old man, with an energy that well -nigh made his companion bounce from his seat--"why, sir, beginning with -neglect and ending with blows--through every stage of savage insult and -injury, his wretched wife, my sister--the most gentle, trusting, lovely -creature that ever yet was born to misery, was dragged by that inhuman -monster, her husband, Sir Richard Ashwoode; he broke her heart--he -killed her, sir--_killed_ her. She was my sister--my only sister; I was -justly proud of her--loved her most dearly, and the inhuman villain -broke her heart." - -Through his clenched teeth he uttered a malediction, and with a -vehemence of hatred which plainly showed that his feelings toward the -family had undergone no favourable change. - -"Well, sir," resumed Mr. Audley, after a considerable interval, "I -cannot wonder at the strength of your feelings in this matter, more -especially at this moment. I myself burn with indignation scarce one -degree less intense than yours against the worthy son of that most -execrable man, and upon grounds, too, very nearly similar." - -He then proceeded to recount to his auditor, waxing warm as he went on, -all the circumstances of Mary Ashwoode's sufferings, and every -particular of the grievous persecution which she had endured at the -hands of her brother, Sir Henry. Oliver French ground his teeth and -clutched the bed-clothes as he listened, and when the narrative was -ended, he whisked the velvet cap from his head, and flung it with all -his force upon the floor. - -"Oh, God Almighty! that I had but the use of my limbs," exclaimed he, -with desperation--"I would give the whole world a lesson in the person -of that despicable scoundrel. I would--but," he added bitterly, "I am -powerless--I am a cripple." - -"You are not powerless, sir, for purposes nobler than revenge," -exclaimed Audley, with eagerness; "you may shelter and protect the -helpless, friendless child of calamity, the story of whose wrongs has -so justly fired you with indignation." - -"Where is she--where?" cried Oliver French, eagerly--"I ought to have -asked you long ago." - -"She is not far away--she even now awaits your decision in the little -village hard by," responded Mr. Audley. - -"Poor child--poor child!" ejaculated Oliver, much agitated. "And did -she--could she doubt my willingness to befriend her--good God--could -she doubt it?--bring her--bring her here at once--I long to see -her--poor bird--poor bird--the world's winter has closed over thee too -soon. Alas! poor child--tell her--tell her, Mr. Audley, that I long to -see her--that she is most welcome--that all which I command is heartily -and entirely at her service. Plead my apology for not going myself to -meet her--as God knows I would fain do; you see I am a poor cripple--a -very worthless, helpless, good-for-nothing old man. Tell her all better -than I can do it now. God bless you, sir--God bless you, for believing -that such an ill-conditioned old fellow as I am had yet heart enough to -feel rightly sometimes. I had rather die a thousand deaths than that -you had not brought the poor outcast child to my roof. Tell her how -glad--how very, very happy--how proud it makes me that she should come -to her old uncle Oliver--tell her this. God bless you, sir!" - -With a cordial pressure, he gripped Audley's hand, and the old -gentleman, with a heart overflowing with exultation and delight, -retraced his steps to the little village, absolutely bursting with -impatience to communicate the triumphant result of his visit. - - - - -CHAPTER LXVI. - -THE BED-CHAMBER. - - -Black M'Guinness and Mistress Martha had listened in vain to catch the -purport of Mr. Audley's communication. Unfortunately for them, their -master's chamber was guarded by a double door, and his companion had -taken especial pains to close both of them before detailing the subject -of his visit. They were, however a good deal astonished by Mr. French's -insisting upon rising forthwith, and having himself clothed and shaved. -This huge, good-natured lump of gout was, accordingly, arrayed in full -suit--one of the handsomest which his wardrobe commanded--his velvet -cap replaced by a flowing peruke--his gouty feet smothered in endless -flannels, and himself deposited in his great easy chair by the fire, -and his lower extremities propped up upon stools and pillows. These -preparations, along with a complete re-arrangement of the furniture, -and other contents of the room, effectually perplexed and somewhat -alarmed his disinterested dependents. - -Mr. Audley returned ere the preparations were well completed, and -handed Mary Ashwoode and her attendant from the chaise. It needs not to -say how the old bachelor of Ardgillagh received her--with, perhaps, the -more warmth and tenderness that, as he protested, with tears in his -eyes, she was so like her poor mother, that he felt as if old times had -come again, and that she stood once more before him, clothed in the -melancholy beauty of her early and ill-fated youth. It were idle to -describe the overflowing kindness of the old man's greeting, and the -depth of gratitude with which his affectionate and hearty welcome was -accepted by the poor grieved girl. He would scarcely, for the whole -evening, allow her to leave him for one moment; and every now and again -renewed his pressing invitation to her and to Mr. Audley to take some -more wine or some new delicacy; he himself enforcing his solicitations -by eating and drinking in almost unbroken continuity during the whole -time. All his habits were those of the most unlimited self-indulgence; -and his chief, if not his sole recreation for years, had consisted in -compounding, during the whole day long, those astounding gastronomic -combinations, which embraced every possible variety of wine and -liqueur, of vegetable, meat, and confection; so that the fact of his -existing at all, under the extraordinary regimen which he had adopted, -was a triumph of the genius of digestion over the demon of dyspepsia, -such as this miserable world has seldom witnessed. Nevertheless, that -he did exist, and that too, apparently, in robust though unwieldy -health, with the exception of his one malady, his constitutional gout, -was a fact which nobody could look upon and dispute. With an -imperiousness which brooked no contradiction, he compelled Mr. Audley -to eat and drink very greatly more than he could conveniently -contain--browbeating the poor little gentleman into submission, and -swearing, in the most impressive manner, that he had not eaten one -ounce weight of food of any kind since his entrance into the house; -although the unhappy little gentleman felt at that moment like a boa -constrictor who has just bolted a buffalo, and pleaded in stifled -accents for quarter; but it would not do. Oliver French, Esq., had not -had his humour crossed, nor one of his fancies contradicted, for the -last forty years, and he was not now to be thwarted or put down by a -little "hop-o'-my-thumb," who, though ravenously hungry, pretended, -through mere perverseness, to be bursting with repletion. Mr. Audley's -labours were every now and again pleasingly relieved by such -applications as these from his merciless entertainer. - -"Now, my good friend--my worthy friend--will you think it too great a -liberty, sir, if I ask you to move the pillow a _leetle_ under this -foot?" - -"None in the world, sir--quite the contrary--I shall have the very -greatest possible pleasure," would poor Mr. Audley reply, preparing for -the task. - -"You are very good, sir, very kind, sir. Just draw it quietly to the -right--a little, a very little--you are very good, indeed, sir. Oh--oh, -O--oh, you--you booby--you'll excuse me, sir--gently--there, -there--gently, gently. O--oh, you d----d handless idiot--pray pardon -me, sir; that will do." - -Such passages as these were of frequent occurrence; but though Mr. -Audley was as choleric as most men at his time of life, yet the -incongruous terms of abuse were so obviously the result of inveterate -and almost unconscious habit, stimulated by the momentary twinges of -acute pain, that he did not suffer this for an instant to disturb the -serenity and goodwill with which he regarded his host, spite of all his -oddities and self-indulgence. - -In the course of the evening Oliver French ordered Mistress Martha to -have beds prepared for the party, and that lady, with rather a vicious -look, withdrew. She soon returned, and asked in her usual low, dulcet -tone, whether the young lady could spare her maid to assist in -arranging the room, and forthwith Flora Guy consigned herself to the -guidance of the sinister-looking Abigail. - -"This is a fine country, isn't it?" inquired Mistress Martha, softly, -when they were quite alone. - -"A very fine country, indeed, ma'am," rejoined Flora, who had heard -enough to inspire her with a certain awe of her conductress, which -inclined her as much as possible to assent to whatever proposition she -might be inclined to advance, without herself hazarding much original -matter. - -"It's a pity you can't see it in the summer time; this is a very fine -place indeed when all the leaves are on the trees," repeated Mistress -Martha. - -"Indeed, so I'd take it to be, ma'am," rejoined the maid. - -"Just passing through this way--hurried like, you can't notice much -about it though," remarked the elderly lady, carelessly. - -"No, ma'am," replied Flora, becoming more reserved, as she detected in -her companion a wish to draw from her all she knew of her mistress's -plans. - -"There are some views that are greatly admired in the -neighbourhood--the glen and the falls of Glashangower. If she could -stay a week she might see everything." - -"Oh! indeed, it's a lovely place," observed Flora, evasively. - -"That old gentleman, that Mr. Audley, your young mistress's father, -or--or uncle, or whatever he is"--Mistress Martha here made a -considerable pause, but Flora did not enlighten her, and she -continued--"whatever he is to her, it's no matter, he seems a very -good-humoured nice old gentleman--he's in a great hurry back to Dublin, -where he came from, I suppose." - -"Well, I really don't know," replied the girl. - -"He looks very comfortable, and everything handsome and nice about -him," observed Mistress Martha again. "I suppose he's well off--plenty -of money--not in want at all." - -"Indeed he seems all that," rejoined the maid. - -"He's cousin, or something or another, to the master, Mr. French; -didn't you tell me so?" asked the painted Abigail. - -"No, ma'am; I didn't tell you; I don't know," replied she. - -"This is a very damp old house, and full of rats; I wish I had known a -week ago that beds would be wanting; but I suppose it was a sudden -thing," said the housekeeper. - -"Indeed, I suppose it just was, ma'am," responded the attendant. - -"Are you going to stay here long?" asked the old lady, more briskly -than she had yet spoken. - -"Raly, ma'am, I don't know," replied Flora. - -The old painted termagant shot a glance at her of no pleasant meaning; -but for the present checked the impulse in which it had its birth, and -repeated softly--"You don't know; why, you are a very innocent, simple -little girl." - -"Pray, ma'am, if it's not making too bold, which is the room, ma'am?" -asked Flora. - -"What's your young lady's name?" asked the matron, directly, and -disregarding the question of the girl. - -Flora Guy hesitated. - -"Do you hear me--what's your young lady's name?" repeated the woman, -softly, but deliberately. - -"Her name, to be sure; her name is Miss Mary," replied she. - -"Mary _what_?" asked Martha. - -"Miss Mary Ashwoode," replied Flora, half afraid as she uttered it. - -Spite of all her efforts, the woman's face exhibited disagreeable -symptoms of emotion at this announcement; she bit her lips and dropped -her eyelids lower than usual, to conceal the expression which gleamed -to her eyes, while her colour shifted even through her rouge. At -length, with a smile infinitely more unpleasant than any expression -which her face had yet worn, she observed,-- - -"Ashwoode, Ashwoode. Oh! dear, to be sure; some of Sir Richard's -family; well, I did not expect to see them darken these doors again. -Dear me! who'd have thought of the Ashwoodes looking after him again? -well, well, but they're a very forgiving family," and she uttered an -ill-omened tittering. - -"Which is the room, ma'am, if you please?" repeated Flora. - -"That's the room," cried the stalwart dame, with astounding vehemence, -and at the same time opening a door and exhibiting a large neglected -bed-chamber, with its bed-clothes and other furniture lying about in -entire disorder, and no vestige of a fire in the grate; "that's the -room, miss, and make the best of it yourself, for you've nothing else -to do." - -In this very uncomfortable predicament Flora Guy applied herself -energetically to reduce the room to something like order, and although -it was very cold and not a little damp, she succeeded, nevertheless, in -giving it an air of tolerable comfort by the time her young mistress -was prepared to retire to it. - -As soon as Mary Ashwoode had entered this chamber her maid proceeded to -narrate the occurrences which had just taken place. - -"Well, Flora," said she, smiling, "I hope the old lady will resume her -good temper by to-morrow, for one night I can easily contrive to rest -with such appliances as we have. I am more sorry, for your sake, my -poor girl, than for mine, however, and wherever I lay me down, my rest -will be, I fear me, very nearly alike." - -"She's the darkest, ill-lookingest old woman, God bless us, that ever I -set my two good-looking eyes upon, my lady," said Flora. "I'll put a -table to the door; for, to tell God's truth, I'm half afeard of her. -She has a nasty look in her, my lady--a bad look entirely." - -Flora had hardly spoken when the door opened, and the subject of their -conversation entered. - -"Good evening to you, Miss Ashwoode," said she, advancing close to the -young lady, and speaking in her usual low soft tone. "I hope you find -everything to your liking. I suppose your own maid has settled -everything according to your fancy. Of course, she knows best how to -please you. I'm very delighted to see you here in Ardgillagh, as I was -telling your innocent maid there--very glad, indeed; because, as I -said, it shows how forgiving you are, after all the master has said and -done, and the way he has always spit on every one of your family that -ever came here looking after his money--though, indeed, I'm sure you're -a great deal too good and too religious to care about money; and I'm -sure and certain it's only for the sake of Christian charity, and out -of a forgiving disposition, and to show that there isn't a bit of pride -of any sort, or kind, or description in your carcase--that you're come -here to make yourself at home in this house, that never belonged to -you, and that never will, and to beg favours of the gentleman that -hates, and despises, and insults everyone that carries your name--so -that the very dogs in the streets would not lick their blood. I like -that, Miss Ashwoode--I _do_ like it," she continued, advancing a little -nearer; "for it shows you don't care what bad people may say or think, -provided you do your Christian duty. They may say you're come here to -try and get the old gentleman's money; they may say that you're eaten -up to the very backbone with meanness, and that you'd bear to be kicked -and spit upon from one year's end to the other for the sake of a few -pounds--they'll call you a sycophant and a schemer--but you don't mind -that--and I admire you for it--they'll say, miss--for they don't -scruple at anything--they'll say you lost your character and fortune in -Dublin, and came down here in the hope of finding them again; but I -tell you what it is," she continued, giving full vent to her fury, and -raising her accents to a tone more resembling the scream of a -screech-owl than the voice of a human being, "I know what you're at, -and I'll blow your schemes, Miss Innocence. I'll make the house too hot -to hold you. Do you think I mind the old bed-ridden cripple, or anyone -else within its four walls? Hoo! I'd make no more of them or of you -than that old glass there;" and so saying, she hurled the candlestick, -with all her force, against the large mirror which depended from the -wall, and dashed it to atoms. - -"Hoo! hoo!" she screamed, "you think I am afraid to do what I -threatened; but wait--wait, I say; and now good-night to you, Miss -Ashwoode, for the first time, and pleasant dreams to you." - -So saying, the fiendish hag, actually quivering with fury, quitted the -room, drawing the door after her with a stunning crash, and leaving -Mary Ashwoode and her servant breathless with astonishment and -consternation. - - - - -CHAPTER LXVII. - -THE EXPULSION. - - -While this scene was going on in Mary Ashwoode's chamber, our friend -Oliver French, having wished Mr. Audley good-night, had summoned to his -presence his confidential servant, Mr. M'Guinness. The corpulent -invalid sat in his capacious chair by the fireside, with his muffled -legs extended upon a pile of pillows, a table loaded with the materials -of his protracted and omnigenous repast at his side. Black M'Guinness -made his appearance, evidently a little intoxicated, and not a little -excited. He proceeded in a serpentine course through the chamber, -overturning, of malice prepense, everything in which he came in -contact. - -"What the devil ails you, sir?" ejaculated Mr. French--"what the plague -do you mean? D--n you, M'Guinness, you're drunk, sir, or mad." - -"Ay, to be sure," ejaculated M'Guinness, grimly. "Why not--oh, do--I've -no objection; d----n away, sir, pray, do." - -"What do you mean by talking that way, you scoundrel?" exclaimed old -French. - -"Scoundrel!" repeated M'Guinness, overturning a small table, and all -thereupon, with a crash upon the floor, and approaching the old -gentleman, while his ugly face grew to a sickly, tallowy white with -rage, "you go for to bring a whole lot of beggarly squatters into the -house to make away with your substance, and to turn you against your -faithful, tried, trusty, and dutiful servants," he continued, shaking -his fist in his master's face. "You do, and to leave them, ten to one, -in their old days unprovided for. Damn ingratitude!--to the devil with -thankless, unnatural vermin! You call me scoundrel. Scoundrel was the -word--by this cross it was." - -While Oliver French, speechless with astonishment and rage, gazed upon -the audacious menial, Mistress Martha herself entered the chamber. - -"Yes, they are, you old dark-hearted hypocrite--they're settled -here--fixed in the house--they are," screamed she; "but they _sha'n't_ -stay long; or, if they do, I'll not leave a whole bone in their skins. -What did _they_ ever do for you, you thankless wretch?" - -"Ay, what did they ever do for you?" shouted M'Guinness. - -"Do you think we're fools--do you? and idiots--do you? not to know what -you're at, you ungrateful miscreant! Turn them out, bag and -baggage--every mother's skin of them, or I'll show them the reason why, -turn them out, I say." - -"You infernal hag, I'd see you in hell or Bedlam first," shouted -Oliver, transported with fury. "You have had your way too long, you -accursed witch--you have." - -"Never mind--oh!--you wretch," shrieked she--"never mind--wait a -bit--and never fear, you old crippled sinner, I'll be revenged on you, -you old devil's limb. Here's your watch for you," screamed she, -snatching a massive, chased gold watch from her side, and hurling it at -his head. It passed close by his ear, and struck the floor behind him, -attesting the force with which it had been thrown, as well as the -solidity of its workmanship, by a deep mark ploughed in the floor. - -Oliver French grasped his crutch and raised it threateningly. - -"You old wretch, I'll not let you strike the woman," cried M'Guinness, -snatching the poker, and preparing to dash it at the old man's head. -What might have been the issue of the strife it were hard to say, had -not Mr. Audley at that moment entered the room. - -"Heyday!" cried that gentleman, "I thought it had been robbers--what's -all this?" - -M'Guinness turned upon him, but observing that he carried a pistol in -each hand, he contented himself with muttering a curse and lowering the -poker which he held in his hand. - -"Why, what the devil--your own servants--your own man and woman!" -exclaimed Mr. Audley. "I beg your pardon, sir--pray excuse me, Mr. -French; perhaps I ought not to have intruded upon you." - -"Pray don't go, Mr. Audley--don't think of going," said Oliver, -eagerly, observing that his visitor was drawing to the door. "These -beasts will murder me if you leave me; I can't help myself--do stay." - -"Pray, madam, you are the amiable and remarkably quiet gentlewoman with -whom I was to-day honoured by an interview? God bless my body and soul, -can it possibly be?" said Mr. Audley, addressing himself to the lady. - -"You vile old swindling schemer," shrieked she, returning--"you -skulking, mean dog--you brandy-faced old reprobate, you--hoo! wait, -wait--wait awhile; I'll master you yet--just wait--never mind--hoo!" -and with something like an Indian war-whoop she dashed out of the room. - -"Get out of this apartment, you ruffian, you--M'Guinness, get out of -the room," cried old French, addressing the fellow, who still stood -grinning and growling there. - -"No, I'll not till I do my business," retorted the man, doggedly; "I'll -put you to bed first. I've a right to do my own business; I'll undress -you and put you to bed first--bellows me, but I will." - -"Mr. Audley, I beg pardon for troubling you," said Oliver, "but will -you pull the bell if you please, like the very devil." - -"Pull away till you are black in the face; _I'll_ not stir," retorted -M'Guinness. - -Mr. Audley pulled the bell with a sustained vehemence which it put Mr. -French into a perspiration even to witness. - -"Pull away, old gentleman--you may pull till you burst--to the devil -with you all. I'll not stir a peg till I choose it myself; I'll do my -business what I was hired for; there's no treason in that. D---- me, if -I stir a peg for you," repeated M'Guinness, doggedly. - -Meanwhile, two half-dressed, scared-looking servants, alarmed by Mr. -Audley's persevering appeals, showed themselves at the door. - -"Thomas--Martin--come in here, you pair of boobies," exclaimed French, -authoritatively; "Martin, do you keep an eye on that scoundrel, and -Thomas, run you down and waken the post-boy and tell him to put his -horses to, and do you assist him, sir, away!" - -With unqualified amazement in their faces, the men proceeded to obey -their orders. - -"So, so," said Oliver, still out of breath with anger, "matters are -come to a pleasant pass, I'm to be brained with my own poker--by my own -servant--in my own house--very pleasant, because forsooth, I dare to do -what I please with my own--highly agreeable, truly! Mr. Audley, may I -trouble you to give me a glass of noyeau--let me recommend that to you, -Mr. Audley, it has the true flavour--nay, nay--I'll hear of no -excuse--I'm absolute in my own room at least--come, my dear sir--I -implore--I insist--nay, I command; come--come--a bumper; very good -health, sir; a pleasant pair of furies!--just give me the legs of that -woodcock while we are waiting." - -Accordingly Mr. Oliver French filled up the brief interval after his -usual fashion, by adding slightly to the contents of his stomach, and -in a little time the servant whom he had dispatched downward, returned -with the post-boy in person. - -"Are your horses under the coach, my good lad?" inquired old French. - -"No, but they're to it, and that's better," responded the charioteer. - -"You'll not have far to go--only to the little village at the end of -the avenue," said Mr. French. "Mr. Audley, may I trouble you to fill a -large glass of Creme de Portugal; thank you; now, my good lad, take -that," continued he, delighted at an opportunity of indulging his -passion for ministering to the stomach of a fellow mortal, "take -it--take it--every drop--good--now Martin, do you and Thomas find that -termagant--fury--Martha Montgomery, and conduct her to the coach--carry -her down if necessary--put her into it, and one of you remain with her, -to prevent her getting out again, and let the other return, and with my -friend the post-boy, do a like good office by my honest comrade Mr. -M'Guinness--mind you go along with them to the village, and let them be -set down at Moroney's public-house; everything belonging to them shall -be sent down to-morrow morning, and if you ever catch either of them -about the place--duck them--whip them--set the dogs on them--that's -all." - -Shrieking as though body and soul were parting, Mrs. Martha was -half-carried, half-dragged from the scene of her long-abused authority; -screaming her threats, curses, and abuse in volleys, she was deposited -safely in the vehicle, and guarded by the footman--who in secret -rejoiced in common with all the rest of the household at the disgrace -of the two insolent favourites--and was forced to sit therein until her -companion in misfortune being placed at her side, they were both, under -a like escort, safely deposited at the door of the little public-house, -scarcely crediting the evidence of their senses for the reality of -their situation. - - -Henceforward Ardgillagh was a tranquil place, and day after day old -Oliver French grew to love the gentle creature, whom a chance wind had -thus carried to his door, more and more fondly. There was an -artlessness and a warmth of affection, and a kindliness about her, -which all, from the master down to the humblest servant, felt and -loved; a grace, and dignity, and a simple beauty in every look and -action, which none could see and not admire. The strange old man, whose -humour had never brooked contradiction, felt for her, he knew not why, -a tenderness and respect such as he never before believed a mortal -creature could inspire; her gentle wish was law to him; to see her -sweet face was his greatest joy--to please her his first ambition; she -grew to be, as it were, his idol. - -It was her chief delight to ramble unattended through the fine old -place. Often, with her faithful follower, Flora Guy, she would visit -the humble dwellings of the poor, wherever grief or sickness was, and -with gentle words of comfort and bounteous pity, cheer and relieve. But -still, from week to week it became too mournfully plain that the sweet, -sad face was growing paler and ever paler, and the graceful form more -delicately slight. In the silent watches of the night often would Flora -Guy hear her loved young mistress weep on for hours, as though her -heart were breaking; yet from her lips there never fell at any time one -word of murmuring, nor any save those of gentle kindness; and often -would she sit by the casement and reverently read the pages of one old -volume, and think and read again, while ever and anon the silent tears, -gathering on the long, dark lashes, would fall one by one upon the -leaf, and then would she rise with such a smile of heavenly comfort -breaking through her tears, that peace, and hope, and glory seemed -beaming in her pale angelic face. - -Thus from day to day, in the old mansion of Ardgillagh, did she, whose -beauty none, even the most stoical, had ever seen unmoved--whose -artless graces and perfections all who had ever beheld her had thought -unmatched, fade slowly and uncomplainingly, but with beauty if possible -enhanced, before the eyes of those who loved her; yet they hoped on, -and strongly hoped--why should they not? She was young--yes, very -young, and why should the young die in the glad season of their early -bloom? - -Mr. Audley became a wondrous favourite with his eccentric entertainer, -who would not hear of his fixing a time for his departure, but partly -by entreaties, partly by bullying, managed to induce him to prolong his -stay from week to week. These concessions were not, however, made -without corresponding conditions imposed by the consenting party, among -the foremost of which was the express stipulation that he should not be -expected, nor by cajolery nor menaces induced or compelled, to eat or -drink at all more than he himself felt prompted by the cravings of his -natural appetite to do. The old gentlemen had much in common upon which -to exercise their sympathies; they were both staunch Tories, both -admirable judges of claret, and no less both extraordinary proficients -in the delectable pastimes of backgammon and draughts, whereat, when -other resources failed, they played with uncommon industry and -perseverance, and sometimes indulged in slight ebullitions of -acrimonious feeling, scarcely exhibited, however, before they were -atoned for by fervent apologies and vehement vows of good behaviour for -the future. - -Leaving this little party to the quiet seclusion of Ardgillagh, it -becomes now our duty to return for a time to very different scenes and -other personages. - - - - -CHAPTER LXVIII. - -THE FRAY. - - -It now becomes our duty to return for a short time to Sir Henry -Ashwoode and Nicholas Blarden, whom we left in hot pursuit of the -trembling fugitives. The night was consumed in vain but restless -search, and yet no satisfactory clue to the direction of their flight -had been discovered; no evidence, not even a hint, by which to guide -their pursuit. Jaded by his fruitless exertions, frantic with rage and -disappointment, Nicholas Blarden at peep of light rode up to the hall -door of Morley Court. - -"No news since?" cried he, fixing his bloodshot eyes upon the man who -took his horse's bridle, "no news since?" - -"No, sir," cried the fellow, shaking his head, "not a word." - -"Is Sir Henry within?" inquired Blarden, throwing himself from the -saddle. - -"No, sir," replied the man. - -"Not returned yet, eh?" asked Nicholas. - -"Yes, sir, he did return, and he left again about ten minutes ago," -responded the groom. - -"And left no message for me, eh?" rejoined Blarden. - -"There's a note, sir, on a scrap of paper, on the table in the hall, I -forgot to mention," replied the man--"he wrote it in a hurry, with a -pencil, sir." - -Blarden strode into the hall, and easily discovered the document--a -hurried scrawl, scarcely legible; it ran as follows:-- - - "Nothing yet--no trace--I half suspect they're lurking in the - neighbourhood of the house. I must return to town--there are two - places which I forgot to try. Meet me, if you can--say in the old - Saint Columbkil; it's a deserted place, in the morning about ten or - eleven o'clock. - - "HENRY ASHWOODE." - -Blarden glanced quickly through this effusion. - -"A precious piece of paper, that!" muttered he, tearing it across, -"worthy of its author--a cursed greenhorn; consume him for a _mouth_, -but no matter--no matter yet. Here, you rake-helly squad, some of you," -shouted he, addressing himself at random to the servants, one of whom -he heard approaching, "here, I say, get me some food and drink, and -don't be long about it either, I can scarce stand." So saying, and -satisfied that his directions would be promptly attended to, he -shambled into one of the sitting-rooms, and flung himself at his full -length upon a sofa; his disordered and bespattered dress and -mud-stained boots contrasted agreeably with the rich crimson damask and -gilded backs and arms of the couch on which he lay. As he applied -himself voraciously to the solid fare and the wines with which he was -speedily supplied, a thousand incoherent schemes, and none of them of -the most amiable kind, busily engaged his thoughts. After many -wandering speculations, he returned again to a subject which had more -than once already presented itself. "And then for the brother, the -fellow that laid his blows on me before a whole play-house full of -people, the vile spawn of insolent beggary, that struck me till his arm -was fairly tired with striking--I'm no fool to forget such things--the -rascally forging ruffian--the mean, swaggering, lying bully--no -matter--he must be served out in style, and so he shall. I'll not hang -him though, I may turn him to account yet, some way or other--no, I'll -not hang him, keep the halter in my hand--the best trump for the last -card--hold the gallows over him, and make him lead a pleasant sort of -life of it, one way or other. I'll not leave a spark of pride in his -body I'll not thrash out of him. I'll make him meeker and sleeker and -humbler than a spaniel; he shall, before the face of all the world, -just bear what I give him, and do what I bid him, like a trained -dog--sink me, but he shall." - -Somewhat comforted by these ruminations, Nicholas Blarden arose from a -substantial meal, and a reverie, which had occupied some hours; and -without caring to remove from his person the traces of his toilsome -exertions of the night past, nor otherwise to render himself one whit a -less slovenly and neglected-looking figure than when he had that -morning dismounted at the hall door, he called for a fresh horse, threw -himself into the saddle, and spurred away for Dublin city. - -He reached the doorway of the old Saint Columbkil, and, under the -shadow of its ancient sign-board, dismounted. He entered the tavern, -but Ashwoode was not there; and, in answer to his inquiries, Mr. -Blarden was informed that Sir Henry Ashwoode had gone over to the "Cock -and Anchor," to have his horse cared for, and that he was momentarily -expected back. - -Blarden consulted his huge gold watch. "It's eleven o'clock now, every -minute of it, and he's not come--hoity toity rather, I should say, all -things considered. I thought he was better up to his game by this -time--but no matter--I'll give him a lesson just now." - -As if for the express purpose of further irritating Mr. Blarden's -already by no means angelic temper, several parties, composed of -second-rate sporting characters, all laughing, swearing, joking, -betting, whistling, and by every device, contriving together to produce -as much clatter and uproar as it was possible to do, successively -entered the place. - -"Well, Nicky, boy, how does the world wag with you?" inquired a dapper -little fellow, approaching Blarden with a kind of brisk, hopping gait, -and coaxingly digging that gentleman's ribs with the butt of his -silver-mounted whip. - -"What the devil brings all these chaps here at this hour?" inquired -Blarden. - -"Soft is your horn, old boy," rejoined his acquaintance, in the same -arch strain of pleasantry; "two regular good mains to be fought -to-day--tough ones, I promise you--Fermanagh Dick against Long -White--fifty birds each--splendid fowls, I'm told--great betting--it -will come off in little more than an hour." - -"I don't care if it never comes off," rejoined Blarden; "I'm waiting -for a chap that ought to have been here half an hour ago. Rot him, I'm -sick waiting." - -"Well, come, I'll tell you how we'll pass the time. I'll toss you for -guineas, as many tosses as you like," rejoined the small gentleman, -accommodatingly. "What do you say--is it a go?" - -"Sit down, then," replied Blarden; "sit down, can't you? and begin." - -Accordingly the two friends proceeded to recreate themselves thus -pleasantly. Mr. Blarden's luck was decidedly bad, and he had been -already "physicked," as his companion playfully remarked, to the amount -of some five-and-twenty guineas, and his temper had become in a -corresponding degree affected, when he observed Sir Henry Ashwoode, -jaded, haggard, and with dress disordered, approaching the place where -he sat. - -"Blarden, we had better leave this place," said Ashwoode, glancing -round at the crowded benches; "there's too much noise here. What say -you?" - -"What do I say?" rejoined Blarden, in his very loudest and most -insolent tone--"I say you have made an appointment and broke it, so -stand there till it's my convenience to talk to you--that's all." - -Ashwoode felt his blood tingling in his veins with fury as he observed -the sneering significant faces of those who, attracted by the loud -tones of Nicholas Blarden, watched the effect of his insolence upon its -object. He heard conversations subside into whispers and titters among -the low scoundrels who enjoyed his humiliation; yet he dared not answer -Blarden as he would have given worlds at that moment to have done, and -with the extremest difficulty restrained himself from rushing among the -vile rabble who exulted in his degradation, and compelling _them_ at -least to respect and fear him. While he stood thus with compressed lips -and a face pale as ashes with rage, irresolute what course to take, one -of the coins for which Blarden played rolled along the table, and -thence along the floor for some distance. - -"Go, fetch that guinea--jump, will you?" cried Blarden, in the same -boisterous and intentionally insolent tone. "What are you standing -there for, like a stick? Pick it up, sir." - -Ashwoode did not move, and an universal titter ran round the -spectators, whose attention was now effectually enlisted. - -"Do what I order you--do it this moment. D---- your audacity, you had -better do it," said Blarden, dashing his clenched fist on the table so -as to make the coin thereon jump and jingle. - -Still Ashwoode remained resolutely fixed, trembling in every joint with -very passion; prudence told him that he ought to leave the place -instantly, but pride and obstinacy, or his evil angel, held him there. - -The sneering whispers of the crowd, who now pressed more nearly round -them in the hope of some amusement, became more and more loud and -distinct, and the words, "white feather," "white liver," "muff," "cur," -and other terms of a like import reached Ashwoode's ear. Furious at the -contumacy of his wretched slave, and determined to overbear and humble -him, Blarden exclaimed in a tone of ferocious menace,-- - -"Do as I bid you, you cursed, insolent upstart--pick up that coin, and -give it to me--or by the laws, you'll shake for it." - -Still Ashwoode moved not. - -"Do as I bid you, you robbing swindler," shouted he, with an oath too -appalling for our pages, and again rising, and stamping on the floor, -"or I'll give you to the crows." - -The titter which followed this menace was unexpectedly interrupted. The -young man's aspect changed; the blood rushed in livid streams to his -face; his dark eyes blazed with deadly fire; and, like the bursting of -a storm, all the gathering rage and vengeance of weeks in one -tremendous moment found vent. With a spring like that of a tiger, he -rushed upon his persecutor, and before the astonished spectators could -interfere, he had planted his clenched fists dozens of times, with -furious strength, in Blarden's face. Utterly destitute of personal -courage, the wretch, though incomparably a more powerful man than his -light-limbed antagonist, shrank back, stunned and affrighted, under the -shower of blows, and stumbled and fell over a wooden stool. With -murderous resolution, Ashwoode instantly drew his sword, and another -moment would have witnessed the last of Blarden's life, had not several -persons thrown themselves between that person and his frantic -assailant. - -"Hold back," cried one. "The man's down--don't murder him." - -"Down with him--he's mad!" cried another; "brain him with the stool." - -"Hold his arm, some of you, or he'll murder the man!" shouted a third, -"hold him, will you?" - -Overpowered by numbers, with his face lacerated and his clothes torn, -and his naked sword still in his hand, Ashwoode struggled and foamed, -and actually howled, to reach his abhorred enemy--glaring like a -baffled beast upon his prey. - -"Send for constables, quick--_quick_, I say," shouted Blarden, with a -frantic imprecation, his face all bleeding under his recent discipline. - -"Let me go--let me go, I tell you, or by the father that made me, I'll -send my sword through half-a-dozen of you," almost shrieked Ashwoode. - -"Hold him--hold him fast--consume you, hold him back!" shouted Blarden; -"he's a forger!--run for constables!" - -Several did run in various directions for peace officers. - -"Wring the sword from his hand, why don't you?" cried one; "cut it out -of his hand with a knife!" - -"Knock him down!--down with him! Hold on!" - -Amid such exclamations, Ashwoode at length succeeded, by several -desperate efforts, in extricating himself from those who held him; and -without hat, and with clothes rent to fragments in the scuffle, and his -face and hands all torn and bleeding, still carrying his naked sword in -his hand, he rushed from the room, and, followed at a respectable -distance by several of those who had witnessed the scuffle, and by his -distracted appearance attracting the wondering gaze of those who -traversed the streets, he ran recklessly onward to the "Cock and -Anchor." - - - - -CHAPTER LXIX. - -THE BOLTED WINDOW. - - -Followed at some distance by a wondering crowd, he entered the -inn-yard, where, for the first time, he checked his flight, and -returned his sword to the scabbard. - -"Here, ostler, groom--quickly, here!" cried Ashwoode. "In the devil's -name, where are you?" - -The ostler presented himself, gazing in unfeigned astonishment at the -distracted, pale, and bleeding figure before him. - -"Where have you put my horse?" said Ashwoode. - -"The boy's whisping him down in the back stable, your honour," replied -he. - -"Have him saddled and bridled in three seconds," said Ashwoode, -striding before the man towards the place indicated. "I'll make it -worth your while. My life--my _life_ depends on it!" - -"Never fear," said the fellow, quickening his pace, "may I never buckle -a strap if I don't." - -With these words, they entered the stable together, but the horse was -not there. - -"Confound them, they brought him to the dark stable, I suppose," said -the groom, impatiently. "Come along, sir." - -"'Sdeath! it will be too late! Quick!--quick, man!--in the fiend's -name, be quick!" said Ashwoode, glaring fearfully towards the entrance -to the inn-yard. - -Their visit to the second stable was not more satisfactory. - -"Where the devil's Sir Henry Ashwoode's horse?" inquired the groom, -addressing a fellow who was seated on an oat-bin, drumming listlessly -with his heels upon its sides, and smoking a pipe the while--"where's -the horse?" repeated he. - -The man first satisfied his curiosity by a leisurely view of Ashwoode's -disordered dress and person, and then removed his pipe deliberately -from his mouth, and spat upon the ground. - -"Where's Sir Henry's horse?" he repeated. "Why, Jim took him out a -quarter of an hour ago, walking down towards the Poddle there. I'm -thinking he'll be back soon now." - -"Saddle a horse--any horse--only let him be sure and fleet," cried -Ashwoode, "and I'll pay you his price thrice over!" - -"Well, it's a bargain," replied the groom, promptly; "I don't like to -see a gentleman caught in a hobble, if I can help him out of it. Take -my advice, though, and duck your head under the water in the trough -there; your face is full of blood and dust, and couldn't but be noticed -wherever you went." - -While the groom was with marvellous celerity preparing the horse which -he selected for the young man's service, Ashwoode, seeing the -reasonableness of his advice, ran to the large trough full of water -which stood before the pump in the inn-yard; but as he reached it, he -perceived the entrance of some four or five persons into the little -quadrangle whom, at a glance, he discovered to be constables. - -"That's him--he's our bird! After him!--there he goes!" cried several -voices. - -Ashwoode sprang up the stairs of the gallery which, as in most old -inns, overhung the yard. He ran along it, and rushed into the first -passage which opened from it. This he traversed with his utmost speed, -and reached a chamber door. It was fastened; but hurling himself -against it with his whole weight, he burst it open, the hoarse voices -of his pursuers, and their heavy tread, ringing in his ears. He ran -directly to the casement; it looked out upon a narrow by-lane. He -strove to open it, that he might leap down upon the pavement, but it -resisted his efforts; and, driven to bay, and hearing the steps at the -very door of the chamber, he turned about and drew his sword. - - [Illustration: "Driven to bay ... he drew his sword." - _To face page 338._] - -"Come, no sparring," cried the foremost, a huge fellow in a great coat, -and with a bludgeon in his hand; "give in quietly; you're regularly -caged." - -As the fellow advanced, Ashwoode met him with a thrust of his sword. -The constable partly threw it up with his hand, but it entered the -fleshy part of his arm, and came out near his shoulder blade. - -"Murder! murder!--help! help!" shouted the man, staggering back, while -two or three more of his companions thrust themselves in at the door. - -Ashwoode had hardly disengaged his sword, when a tremendous blow upon -the knuckles with a bludgeon dashed it from his grasp, and almost at -the same instant, he received a second blow upon the head, which felled -him to the ground, insensible, and weltering in blood, the execrations -and uproar of his assailants still ringing in his ears. - -"Lift him on the bed. Pull off his cravat. By the hoky, he's done for. -Devil a kick in him. Open his vest. Are you hurted, Crotty? Get some -water and spirits, some of yees, an' a towel. Begorra, we just nicked -him. He's an active chap. See, he's opening his mouth and his eyes. -Hould him, Teague, for he's the devil's bird. Never mind it, Crotty. -Devil a fear of you. Tear open the shirt. Bedad, it was close shaving. -Give him a drop iv the brandy. Never a fear of you, old bulldog." - -These and such broken sentences from fifty voices filled the little -chamber where Ashwoode lay in dull and ghastly insensibility after his -recent deadly struggle, while some stuped the wounds of the combatants -with spirits and water, and others applied the same medicaments to -their own interiors, and all talked loud and fast together, as men are -apt to do after scenes of excitement. - - -We need not follow Ashwoode through the dreadful preliminaries which -terminated in his trial. In vain did he implore an interview with -Nicholas Blarden, his relentless prosecutor. It were needless to enter -into the evidence for the prosecution, and that for the defence, -together with the points made arguments, and advanced by the opposing -counsel; it is enough to know that the case was conducted with much -ability on both sides, and that the jury, having deliberated for more -than an hour, at length found the verdict which we shall just now -state. A baronet in the dock was too novel an exhibition to fail in -drawing a full attendance, and the consequence was, that never was -known such a crowd of human beings in a compass so small as that which -packed the court-house upon this memorable occasion. - -Throughout the whole proceedings, Sir Henry Ashwoode, though deadly -pale, conducted himself with singular coolness and self-possession, -frequently suggesting questions to his counsel, and watching the -proceedings apparently with a mind as disengaged from every agitating -consciousness of personal danger as that of any of the indifferent but -curious bystanders who looked on. He was handsomely dressed, and in his -degraded and awful situation preserved, nevertheless, in his outward -mien and attire, the dignity of his rank and former pretensions. As is -invariably the case in Ireland, popular sympathy moved strongly in -favour of the prisoner, a feeling of interest which the grace, beauty, -and evident youth of the accused, as well as his high rank--for the -Irish have ever been an aristocratic race--served much to enhance; and -when the case closed, and the jury retired after an adverse charge from -the learned judge, to consider their verdict, perhaps Ashwoode himself -would have seemed, to the careless observer, the least interested in -the result of all who were assembled in that densely crowded place, to -hear the final adjudication of the law. Those, however, who watched him -more narrowly could observe, in this dreadful interval, that he raised -his handkerchief often to his face, keeping it almost constantly at his -mouth to conceal the nervous twitching of the muscles which he could -not control. The eyes of the eager multitude wandered from the prisoner -to the jury-box, and thence to the impassive parchment countenance of -the old ermined effigy who presided at the harrowing scene, and not one -ventured to speak above his breath. At length, a sound was heard at the -door of the jury-box--the jury was returning. A buzz ran through the -court, and then the prolonged "hish," enjoining silence, while one by -one the jurors entered and resumed their places in the box. The verdict -was--Guilty. - -In reply to the usual interrogatory from the officer of the court, Sir -Henry Ashwoode spoke, and though many there were moved, even to sobs -and tears, yet his manner had recovered its grace and collectedness, -and his voice was unbroken and musical as when it was wont to charm all -hearers in the gay saloons of fashion, and splendour, and heedless -folly, in other times--when he, blasted and ruined as he stood there, -was the admired and courted favourite of the great and gay. - -"My lord," said he, "I have nothing to urge which, in the strict -requirements of the law, avails to abate the solemn sentence which you -are about to pronounce--for my life I care not--something is, however, -due to my character and the name I bear--a name, my lord, never, never -except on this day, never clouded by the shadow of dishonour--a name -which will yet, after I am dead and gone, be surely and entirely -vindicated; vindicated, my lord, in the entire dispersion of the foul -imputations and fatal contrivances under which my fame is darkened and -my life is taken. Far am I from impeaching the verdict that I have just -heard. I will not arraign the jurymen, nor lay to _their_ charge that I -am this day wrongfully condemned, but to the charge of those who, on -that witness table, have sworn my life away--perjurers procured for -money, whose exposure I leave to time, and whose punishment to God. -Knowing that although my body shall ignominiously perish, and though my -fame be tarnished for an hour, yet shall truth and years, with -irresistible power, bring my innocence to light--rescue my character -and restore the name I bear. He who stands in the shadow of death, as I -do, has little to fear in human censure, and little to gather from the -applause of men. My life is forfeited, and I must soon go into the -presence of my Creator, to receive my everlasting doom; and in presence -of that almighty and terrible God before whom I must soon stand, and as -I look for mercy when He shall judge me, I declare, that of this crime, -of which I am pronounced guilty, I am altogether innocent. I am a -victim of a conspiracy, the motives of which my defence hath truly -showed you. I never committed the crime for which I am to suffer. I -repeat that I am innocent, and in witness of the truth of what I say, I -appeal to my Maker and my Judge, the Eternal and Almighty God." - -Having thus spoken, Ashwoode received his sentence, and was forthwith -removed to the condemned cell. - -Ashwoode had many and influential friends, and it required but a small -exercise of their good offices to procure a reprieve. He would not -suffer himself to despond--no, nor for one moment to doubt his final -escape from the fangs of justice. He was first reprieved for a -fortnight, and before that term expired again for six weeks. In the -course of the latter term, however, an event occurred which fearfully -altered his chances of escape, and filled his mind with the justest and -most dreadful apprehensions. This was the recall of Wharton from the -viceroyalty of Ireland. - -The new lord-lieutenant could not see, in the case of the young Whig -baronet, the same extenuating circumstances which had wrought so -effectually upon his predecessor, Wharton. The judge who had tried the -case refused to recommend the prisoner to the mercy of the Crown; and -the viceroy accordingly, in his turn, refused to entertain any -application for the commutation or further suspension of his sentence; -and now, for the first time, Sir Henry Ashwoode felt the tremendous -reality of his situation. The term for which he was reprieved had -nearly expired, and he felt that the hours which separated him from the -deadly offices of the hangman were numbered. Still, in this dreadful -consciousness, there mingled some faint and flickering ray of hope--by -its uncertain mockery rendering the terrors of his situation but the -more intolerable, and by the sleepless agonies of suspense, unnerving -the resolution which he might have otherwise summoned to his aid. - - - - -CHAPTER LXX. - -THE BARONET'S ROOM. - - -Desperately wounded, O'Connor lay between life and death for many weeks -in the dim and secluded apartment whither O'Hanlon had borne him after -his combat with Sir Henry Ashwoode. There, fearing lest his own -encounter with Wharton, and its startling result, should mark them for -pursuit and search, he placed O'Connor under the charge of trusty -creatures of his own--for some time not daring to visit him except -under cover of the night. This alarm, however, soon subsided; and -consequently less precaution was adopted. O'Connor's wounds were, as we -have said, most dangerous, and for fully two months he lay upon the -fiery couch of fever, alternately raving in delirium, and locked in the -dull stupor of entire apathy and exhaustion. Through this season of -pain and peril he was sustained, however, by the energies of a young -and vigorous constitution. The fever, at length, abated, and the -unclouded light of reason returned; still, however, in body he was -weak, so weak that, sorely against his will, he was perforce obliged to -continue the occupant of his narrow bed, in the dingy and secluded -lodgings in which he lay. Impatient to learn something of her who -entirely filled his thoughts, and of the truth of whose love for him he -now felt the revival of more than hope, he chafed and fretted in the -narrow limits of his dark and gloomy chamber. Spite of all the -remonstrances of the old crone who attended him, backed by the more -awful fulminations of his apothecary, O'Connor would not submit any -longer to the confinement of his bed; and, but for the firm and -effectual resistance of O'Hanlon, would have succeeded, weak as he was, -in making his escape from the house, and resuming his ordinary -occupations and pursuits, as though his health had not suffered, nor -his strength become impaired, so as to leave him scarcely the power of -walking a hundred steps, without the extremest exhaustion and -lassitude. To O'Hanlon's expostulations he was forced to yield, and -even pledged his word to him not to attempt a removal from his hated -lodgings, without his consent and approbation. In reply to a message to -his friend Audley, he learned, much to his mortification, that that -gentleman had left town, and as thus full of disquiet and anxiety, one -day O'Connor was seated, pale and languid, in his usual place by the -window, the door of his apartment opened, and O'Hanlon entered. He took -the hand of the invalid and said,-- - -"I commend your patience, young man, you have been my _parole_ prisoner -for many days. When is this durance to end?" - -"I'faith, I believe with my life," rejoined O'Connor, "I never knew -before what weariness and vexation in perfection are--this dusky room -is hateful to me, it grows narrower and narrower every day--and those -old houses opposite--every pane of glass in their windows, and every -brick in their walls I have learned by rote--I am tired to death. But, -seriously, I have other and very different reasons for wishing to be at -liberty again--reasons so urgent as to leave me no rest by night or -day. I chafe and fret here like a caged bird. I have been too long shut -up--my strength will never come again unless I am allowed to breathe -the fresh air--you are all literally killing me with kindness." - -"And yet," rejoined O'Hanlon, "I have never been thought an -over-careful leech, and truth to say, had I suffered you to have your -own way, you would not now have been a living man. I know, as well as -any of them, how to tend a wound, and this I will say, that in all my -practice it never yet has been my lot to meet with so ill-conditioned -and cross-grained a patient as yourself. Why, nothing short of -downright force has kept you in your room--your life is saved in spite -of yourself." - -"If you keep me here much longer," replied O'Connor, "it will prove but -indifferent economy as regards my bodily health, for I shall -undoubtedly cut my throat before another week." - -"There shall be no need, my friend, to find such an escape," replied -O'Hanlon, "for I now absolve you of your promise, hitherto so well -observed; nay, more, _I_ advise you to leave the house to-day. I think -your strength sufficient, and the occasion, moreover, demands that you -should visit an acquaintance immediately." - -"Who is it?" inquired O'Connor, starting to his feet with alacrity, -"thank God I am at length again my own master." - -"When I this day entered the yard of the 'Cock and Anchor'," answered -O'Hanlon, "the inn where you and I first encountered, I found a fellow -inquiring after you most earnestly; he had a letter with which he was -charged. It is from Sir Henry Ashwoode, who lies now in prison, and -under sentence of death. You start, and no wonder--his old associates -have convicted him of forgery." - -"Gracious Heaven, is it possible?" exclaimed O'Connor. - -"Nay, _certain_," continued O'Hanlon, "nor has he any longer a chance -of escape. He has been twice reprieved--but his friend Wharton is -recalled--his reprieve expires in three days' time, and then he will be -inevitably executed." - -"Good God, is this--can it be reality?" exclaimed O'Connor, trembling -with the violence of his agitation, "give me the letter." He broke the -seal, and read as follows:-- - - "EDMOND O'CONNOR,--I know I have wronged you sorely. I have - destroyed your peace and endangered your life. You are more than - avenged. I write this in the condemned cell of the gaol. If you can - bring yourself to confer with me for a few minutes, come here. I - stand on no ceremony, and time presses. Do not fail. If you be - living I shall expect you. - - "HENRY ASHWOODE." - -O'Connor's preparations were speedily made, and leaning upon the arm of -his elder friend, he, with slow and feeble steps, and a head giddy with -his long confinement, and the agitating anticipation of the scene in -which he was just about to be engaged, traversed the streets which -separated his lodging from the old city gaol--a sombre, stern, and -melancholy-looking building, surrounded by crowded and dilapidated -houses, with decayed plaster and patched windows, and a certain -desolate and sickly aspect, as though scared and blasted by the -contagious proximity of that dark receptacle of crime and desperation -which loomed above them. At the gate O'Hanlon parted from him, -appointing to meet him again in the "Cock and Anchor," whither he -repaired. After some questions, O'Connor was admitted. The clanging of -bolts, and bars, and door-chains, smote heavily on his heart--he heard -no other sounds but these and the echoing tread of their own feet, as -they traversed the long, dark, stone-paved passages which led to the -dungeon in which he whom he had last seen in the pride of fashion, and -youth, and strength, was now a condemned felon, and within a few hours -of a public and ignominious death. The turnkey paused at one of the -narrow doors opening from the dusky corridor, and unclosing it, said,-- - -"A gentleman, sir, to see you." - -"Request him to come in," replied a voice, which, though feebler than -it used to be, O'Connor had no difficulty in recognizing. In compliance -with this invitation, he with a throbbing heart entered the -prison-room. It was dimly lighted by a single small window set high in -the wall, and darkened by iron bars. A small deal table, with a few -books carelessly laid upon it, occupied the centre of the cell, and two -heavy stools were placed beside it, on one of which was seated a -figure, with his back to the light, to conceal, with a desperate -tenacity of pride, the ravages which the terrific mental fever of weeks -had wrought in his once bold and handsome face. By the wall was -stretched a wretched pallet; and upon the plaster were written and -scratched, according to the various moods of the miserable and guilty -tenants of the place, a hundred records, some of slang philosophy, some -of desperate drunken defiance, and some again of terror, but all -bearing reference to the dreadful scene to which this was but the -ante-chamber and the passage. Many hieroglyphical emblems of -unmistakable significance had also been traced upon the walls by the -successive occupants of the place, such as coffins, gallows-trees, -skulls and cross-bones; the most striking among which symbols was a -large figure of death upon a horse, sketched with much spirit, by some -moralizing convict, with a piece of burned stick, and to which some -waggish successor had appropriately added, in red chalk, a gigantic -pair of spurs. As soon as O'Connor entered, the turnkey closed the -door, and he and Sir Henry Ashwoode were left alone. A silence of some -minutes, which neither party dared to break, ensued. - - - - -CHAPTER LXXI. - -THE FAREWELL. - - -O'Connor was the first to speak. In a low voice, which trembled with -agitation, he said,-- - -"Sir Henry Ashwoode, I have come here in answer to a note which reached -me but a few minutes since. You desired a conference with me; is there -any commission with which you would wish to charge me?--if so, let me -know it, and it shall be done." - -"None, none, Mr. O'Connor, thank you," rejoined Ashwoode, recovering -his characteristic self-possession, and continuing proudly, "if you add -to your visit a patient audience of a few minutes, you will have -conferred upon me the only favour I desire. Pray, sit down; it is -rather a hard and a homely seat," he added, with a haggard, joyless -smile--"but the only one this place supplies." - -Another silence followed, during which Sir Henry Ashwoode restlessly -shifted his attitude every moment, in evident and uncontrollable -nervous excitement. At length he arose, and walked twice or thrice up -and down the narrow chamber, exhibiting without any longer care for -concealment his pale, wasted face in the full light which streamed in -through the grated window, his sunken eyes and unshorn chin, and worn -and attenuated figure. - -"You hear that sound," said he, abruptly stopping short, and looking -with the same strange smile upon O'Connor; "the clank upon the flags as -I walk up and down--the jingle of the fetters--isn't it strange--isn't -it odd--like a dream--eh?" - -Another silence followed, which Ashwoode again abruptly interrupted. - -"You know all this story?--of course you do--everybody does--how the -wretches have trapped me--isn't it terrible--isn't it dreadful? Oh! you -cannot know what it is to mope about this place alone, when it is -growing dark, as I do every evening, and in the night time. If I had -been another man, I'd have been raving mad by this time. I said -_alone_--did I?" he continued, with increasing excitement; "oh! that it -were!--oh! that it were! He comes there--_there_," he screamed, pointing -to the foot of the bed, "with all those infernal cloths and fringes -about his face, morning and evening. Ah, God! such a thing--half idiot, -half fiend; and still the same, though I curse him till I'm hoarse, he -won't leave it. Can't they wait--can't they wait? for-ever is a long -day. As I'm a living man, he's with me every night--there--there is the -body, gaping and nodding--_there_--_there_--_there_!" - -As he shouted this with frantic and despairing horror, shaking his -clenched hands toward the place of his dreaded nightly visitant, -O'Connor felt a thrill of horror such as he had never known before, and -hardly recovered from this painful feeling, when Sir Henry Ashwoode -turned to the little table on which, among many things, a vessel of -water was placed, and filling some out into a cracked cup, he added to -it drops from a phial, and hastily swallowed the mixture. - -"Laudanum is all the philosophy or religion I can boast; it's well to -have even so much," said he, returning the bottle to his pocket. "It's -a dead secret, though, that I have got any; this is a present from the -doctor they allow me to see, and I'm on honour not--to poison -myself--isn't it comical?--for fear he should get into a scrape; but -I've another game to play--no fear of that--no, no." - -Another silence followed, and Sir Henry Ashwoode said quickly,-- - -"What do the people say about it? Do they think I forged that accursed -bond? Do they think me guilty?" - -O'Connor declared his entire ignorance of public rumour, alleging his -own illness, and consequent close confinement, as the cause of it. - -"They sha'n't believe me guilty, no, they sha'n't. Look ye, sir, I have -one good feeling left," he resumed, vehemently; "I will not let my name -suffer. If the most resolute firmness to the very last, and the most -solemn renunciation of the charges preferred against me, reiterated at -the foot of the gallows, with the halter about my neck--if these can -beget a belief of my innocence, my name shall be clear--my name shall -not suffer; this last outrage I will avert; but oh, my God! is there no -chance yet--must I--_must_ I perish? Will no one save me--will no one -help me? Oh, God! oh, God! is there no pity--no succour; must it come?" - -Thus crying, he threw himself forward upon the table, while every joint -and muscle quivered and heaved with fierce hysterical sobs which, more -like a succession of short convulsive shrieks than actual weeping, -betrayed his agony, while O'Connor looked on with a mixture of horror -and pity, which all that was past could not suppress. - -At length the paroxysm subsided. The wretched man filled out some more -water, and mingling some drops of laudanum in it, he drank it off, and -became comparatively composed. - -"Not a word of this to any living being, I charge you," said he, -clutching O'Connor's arm in his attenuated hand, and fixing his sunken -fiery eyes upon his; "I would not have my folly known; I'm not always -so weak as you have seen me. It _must_ be, that's all--no help for it. -It's rather a novel thing, though, to hang a baronet--ha! ha! You look -scared--you think my wits are unsettled; but you're wrong. I don't -sleep; I hav'n't for some time; and want of rest, you know, makes a -man's manner odd; makes him excitable--nervous. I'm more myself now." - -After a short pause, Sir Henry Ashwoode resumed,-- - -"When we had that affray together, in which would to God you had run me -through the heart, you put a question to me about my sister--poor Mary; -I will answer that now, and more than answer it. That girl loves you -with her whole heart; loves you alone; never loved another. It matters -not to tell how I and my father--the great and accursed first cause of -all our misfortunes and miseries--effected your estrangement. The -Italian miscreant told you truth. The girl is gone I know not whither, -to seek an asylum from me--ay, from _me_. To save my life and honour. I -would have constrained her to marry the wretch who has destroyed me. It -was he--_he_ who urged it, who cajoled me. I joined him, to save my -life and honour! and now--oh! God, where are they?" - -O'Connor rose, and said somewhat sternly,-- - -"May God pardon you, Sir Henry Ashwoode, for all you have done against -the peace of that most noble and generous being, your sister. What I -have suffered at your hands I heartily forgive." - -"I ask forgiveness nowhere," rejoined Ashwoode, stoically; "what's done -is done. It has been a wild and fitful life, and is now over. What -forgiveness can you give me or she that's worth a thought?--folly, -folly!" - -"One word of earnest hope before I leave you; one word of solemn -warning," said O'Connor; "the vanities of this world are fading fast -and for ever from your view; you are going where the applause of men -can reach you no more! I conjure you, then, for the sake of your -eternal peace, if your sentence be a just one, do not insult your -Creator by denying your guilt, and pass into His awful presence with a -lie upon your lips." - -Ashwoode paused for a moment, and then walked suddenly up to O'Connor, -and almost in a whisper said,-- - -"Not a word of that, my course is chosen; not one word more. Observe, -what has passed between us is private; now leave me." So saying, -Ashwoode turned from him, and walked toward the narrow window of his -cell. - -"Farewell, Sir Henry Ashwoode, farewell for ever; and may God have -mercy upon you," said O'Connor, passing out upon the dark and narrow -corridor. - -The turnkey closed the door with a heavy crash upon his prisoner, and -locked it once more, and thus the two young men, who had so often and -so variously encountered in the unequal path of life, were parted never -again to meet in the wayward scenes of this chequered and changeful -existence. Tired and agitated, O'Connor threw himself into the first -coach he met, and was deposited safely in the "Cock and Anchor." It -were vain to attempt to describe the ecstasies and transports of honest -Larry Toole at the unexpected recovery of his long-lost master; we -shall not attempt to do so. It is enough for our purpose to state that -at the "Cock and Anchor" O'Connor received two letters from his old -friend, Mr. Audley, and one conveying a pressing invitation from Oliver -French of Ardgillagh, in compliance with which, early on the next -morning, he mounted his horse, and set forth, followed by his trusty -squire, upon the high road to Naas, resolved to task his strength to -the uttermost, although he knew that even thus he must necessarily -divide his journey into many more stages than his impatience would have -allowed, had more rapid travelling in his weak condition been possible. - - - - -CHAPTER LXXII. - -THE ROPE AND THE RIOT IN GALLOWS GREEN--AND THE WOODS OF ARDGILLAGH BY -MOONLIGHT. - - -At length came that day, that dreadful day, whose evening Sir Henry -Ashwoode was never to see. Noon was the time fixed for the fatal -ceremonial; and long before that hour, the mob, in one dense mass of -thousands, had thronged and choked the streets leading to the old gaol. -Upon this awful day the wretched man acquired, by a strange revulsion, -a kind of stoical composure, which sustained him throughout the -dreadful preparations. With hands cold as clay, and a face white as -ashes, and from which every vestige of animation had vanished, he -proceeded, nevertheless, with a calm and collected demeanour to make -all his predetermined arrangements for the fearful scene. With a minute -elaborateness he finished his toilet, and dressed himself in a grave, -but particularly handsome suit. Could this shrunken, torpid, ghastly -spectre, in reality be the same creature who, a few months since, was -the admiration and envy of half the beaux of Dublin? - -There was little or none of the fitful excitability about him which had -heretofore marked his demeanour during his confinement; on the -contrary, a kind of stupor and apathy had supervened, partly occasioned -by the laudanum which he had taken in unusually large quantities, and -partly by the overwhelming horror of his situation. He seemed to -observe and hear nothing. When the gaoler entered to remove his irons, -shortly before the time of his removal had arrived, he seemed a little -startled, and observing the physician who had attended him among those -who stood at the door of his cell, he beckoned him toward him. - -"Doctor, doctor," said he in a dusky voice, "how much laudanum may I -safely take? I want my head clear to say a few words, to speak to the -people. Don't give me too much; but let me, with that condition, have -whatever I can safely swallow. You know--you understand me; don't -oblige me to speak any more just now." - -The physician felt his pulse, and looked in his face, and then mingled -a little laudanum and water, which he applied to the young man's pale, -dry lips. This dose was hardly swallowed, when one of the gaol -officials entered, and stated that the ordinary was anxious to know -whether the prisoner wished to pray or confer with him in private -before his departure. The question had to be twice repeated ere it -reached Sir Henry. He replied, however, quickly, and in a low tone,-- - -"No, no, not for the world. I can't bear it; don't disturb me--don't, -don't." - -It was now intimated to the prisoner that he must proceed. His arms -were pinioned, and he was conducted along the passages leading to the -entrance of the gaol, where he was received by the sheriff. For a -moment, as he passed out into the broad light and the keen fresh air, -he beheld the vast and eager mob pressing and heaving like a great dark -sea around him, and the mounted escort of dragoons with drawn swords -and gay uniforms; and without attaching any clear or definite meaning -to the spectacle, he beheld the plumes of a hearse, and two or three -fellows engaged in sliding the long black coffin into its place. These -sights, and the strange, gaping faces of the crowd, and the sheriff's -carriage, and the gay liveries, and the crowded fronts and roofs of the -crazy old houses opposite, for one moment danced like the fragment of a -dream across his vision, and in the next he sat in the old-fashioned -coach which was to convey him to the place of execution. - -"Only twenty-seven years, only twenty-seven years, only twenty-seven -years," he muttered, vacantly and mechanically repeating the words -which had reached his ear from those who were curiously reading the -plate upon the coffin as he entered the coach--"only twenty-seven, -twenty-seven." - -The awful procession moved on to the place of its final destination; -the enormous mob rushing along with it--crowding, jostling, swearing, -laughing, whistling, quarrelling, and hustling, as they forced their -way onward, and staring with coarse and eager curiosity whenever they -could into the vehicle in which Ashwoode sat. All the sights--the -haggard, smirched, and eager faces, the prancing horses of the -troopers, the well-known shops and streets, and the crowded -windows--all sailed by his eyes like some unintelligible and -heart-sickening dream. The place of public execution for criminals was -then, and continued to be for long after, a spot significantly -denominated "Gallows Hill," situated in the neighbourhood of St. -Stephen's Green, and not far from the line at present traversed by -Baggot Street. There a permanent gallows was erected, and thither, at -length, amid thousands of crowding spectators, the melancholy -procession came, and proceeded to the centre of area, where the gallows -stood, with the long new rope swinging in the wind, and the cart and -the hangman, with the guard of soldiers, prepared for their reception. -The vehicles drew up, and those who had to play a part in the dreadful -scene descended. The guard took their place, preserving a narrow circle -around the fatal spot, free from the pressure of the crowd. The -carriages were driven a little away, and the coffin was placed close -under the gallows, while Ashwoode, leaning upon the chaplain and upon -one of the sheriffs, proceeded toward the cart, which made the rude -platform on which he was to stand. - -"Sir Henry Ashwoode," observes a contemporary authority, the _Dublin -Journal_, "showed a great deal of calmness and dignity, insomuch that a -great many of the mob, especially among the women, were weeping. His -figure and features were handsome, and he was finely dressed. He prayed -a short time with the ordinary, and then, with little assistance, -mounted the hurdle, whence he spoke to the people, declaring his -innocence with great solemnity. Then the hangman loosened his cravat, -and opened his shirt at the neck, and Sir Henry turning to him, bid -him, as it was understood, to take a ring from his finger, for a token -of forgiveness, which he did, and then the man drew the cap over his -eyes; but he made a sign, and the hangman lifted it up again, and Sir -Henry, looking round at all the multitude, said again, three times, 'In -the presence of God Almighty, I stand here innocent;' and then, a -minute after, 'I forgive all my enemies, and I die innocent;' then he -spoke a word to the hangman, and the cap being pulled down, and the -rope quickly adjusted, the hurdle was moved away, and he swung off, the -people with one consent crying out the while. He struggled for a long -time, and very hard; and not for more than an hour was the body cut -down, and laid in the coffin. He was buried in the night-time. His last -dying words have begot among most people a great opinion of his -innocence, though the lawyers still hold to it that he was guilty. It -was said that Mr. Blarden, the prosecutor, was in a house in Stephen's -Green, to see the hanging, and as soon as the mob heard it, they went -and broke the windows, and, but for the soldiers, would have forced -their way in, and done more violence." - -Thus speaks the _Dublin Journal_, and the extract needs no addition -from us. - - -Gladly do we leave this hateful scene, and turn from the dreadful fate -of him whose follies and vices had wrought so much misery to others, -and ended in such fearful ignominy and destruction to himself. We leave -the smoky town, with all its fashion, vice, and villainy; its princely -equipages; its prodigals; its paupers; its great men and its -sycophants; its mountebanks and mendicants; its riches and its -wretchedness. We leave that old city of strange compounds, where the -sublime and the ridiculous, deep tragedies and most whimsical farces -are ever mingling--where magnificence and squalor rub shoulders day by -day, and beggars sit upon the steps of palaces. How much of what is -wonderful, wild, and awful, has not thy secret history known! How much -of the romance of human act and passion, vicissitude, joy and sorrow, -grandeur and despair, has there not lived, and moved, and perished, age -after age, under thy perennial curtain of solemn smoke! - -Far, far behind, we leave the sickly smoky town--and over the far blue -hills and wooded country--through rocky glens, and by sonorous streams, -and over broad undulating plains, and through the quiet villages, with -their humble thatched roofs from which curls up the light blue smoke -among the sheltering bushes and tall hedge-rows--through ever-changing -scenes of softest rural beauty, in day time and at even-tide, and by -the wan, misty moonlight, we follow the two travellers who ride toward -the old domain of Ardgillagh. - -The fourth day's journey brought them to the little village which -formed one of the boundaries of that old place. But, long ere they -reached it, the sun had gone down behind the distant hills, under his -dusky canopy of crimson clouds, and the pale moon had thrown its broad -light and shadows over the misty landscape. Under the soft splendour of -the moon, chequered by the moving shadows of the tall and ancient -trees, they rode into the humble village--no sound arose to greet them -but the desultory baying of the village dogs, and the soft sighing of -the light breeze through the spreading boughs--and no signal of waking -life was seen, except, few and far between, the red level beam of some -still glowing turf fire, shining through the rude and narrow aperture -that served the simple rustic instead of casement. - -At one of these humble dwellings Larry Toole applied for information, -and with ready courtesy the "man of the house," in person, walked with -them to the entrance of the place, and shoved open one of the valves of -the crazy old gate, and O'Connor rode slowly in, following, with his -best caution, the directions of his guide. His honest squire, Larry, -meanwhile, loitered a little behind, in conference with the courteous -peasant, and with the laudable intention of procuring some trifling -refection, which, however, he determined to swallow without -dismounting, and with all convenient dispatch, bearing in mind a -wholesome remembrance of the disasters which followed his convivial -indulgence in the little town of Chapelizod. While Larry thus loitered, -O'Connor followed the wild winding avenue which formed the only -approach to the old mansion. This rude track led him a devious way over -slopes, and through hollows, and by the broad grey rocks, white as -sheeted phantoms in the moonlight, and the thick weeds and brushwood -glittering with the heavy dew of night, and through the beautiful misty -vistas of the ancient wild wood, now still and solemn as old cathedral -aisles. Thus, under the serene and cloudless light of the sailing moon, -he had reached the bank of the broad and shallow brook whose shadowy -nooks and gleaming eddies were canopied under the gnarled and arching -boughs of the hoary thorn and oak--and here tradition tells a -marvellous tale. - -It is narrated that when O'Connor reached this point, his jaded horse -stopped short, refusing to cross the stream, and when urged by voice -and spur, reared, snorted, and by every indication exhibited the -extremest terror and an obstinate reluctance to pass the brook. The -rider dismounted--took his steed by the head, patted and caressed him, -and by every art endeavoured to induce him to traverse the little -stream, but in vain; while thus fruitlessly employed, his attention was -arrested by the sounds of a female voice, in low and singularly sweet -and plaintive lamentation, and looking across the water, for the first -time he beheld the object which so affrighted his steed. It was a -female figure arrayed in a mantle of dusky red, the hood of which hung -forward so as to hide the face and head: she was seated upon a broad -grey rock by the brook's side, and her head leaned forward so as to -rest upon her knees; her bare arm hung by her side, and the white -fingers played listlessly in the clear waters of the brook, while with -a wild and piteous chaunt, which grew louder and clearer as he gazed, -she still sang on her strange mournful song. Spellbound and entranced, -he knew not why, O'Connor gazed on in speechless and breathless awe, -until at length the tall form arose and disappeared among the old -trees, and the sounds melted away and were lost among the soft chiming -of the brook, and heard no more. He dared not say whether it was -reality or illusion, he felt like one suddenly recalled from a dream, -and a certain awe, and horror, and dismay still hung upon him, for -which he scarcely could account. - -Without further resistance, the horse now crossed the brook; O'Connor -remounted, and followed the shadowy track; but again he was destined to -meet with interruption; the pathway which he followed, embowered among -the branching trees and bushes, at one point wound beneath a low, -ivy-mantled rock; he was turning this point, when his horse, snorting -loudly, checked his pace with a recoil so sudden that he threw himself -back upon his haunches, and remained, except for his violent trembling, -fixed and motionless. O'Connor raised his eyes, and standing upon the -rock which overhung the avenue, he beheld, for a moment, a tall female -form clothed in an ample cloak of dusky red. The arms with the hands -clasped, as if in the extremity of woe, firmly together, were extended -above her head, the face white as the foam of the river, and the eyes -preternaturally large and wild, were raised fixedly toward the broad -bright moon; this phantom, for such it was, for a moment occupied his -gaze, and in the next, with a scream so piercing and appalling that his -very marrow seemed to freeze at the sound, she threw herself forward as -though she would cast herself upon the horse and rider--and, was gone. - - [Illustration: "His horse, snorting loudly, checked his pace." - _To face page 354._] - -The horse started wildly off and galloped at headlong speed up the -broken ascent, and for some time O'Connor had not collectedness to -check his frantic course, or even to think; at length, however, he -succeeded in calming the terrified animal--and, uttering a fervent -prayer, he proceeded, without further adventure, till the tall gable of -the old mansion in the spectral light of the moon among its thick -embowering trees and rich ivy-mantles, with all its tall white chimney -stacks and narrow windows with their thousand glittering panes, arose -before his anxious gaze. - - - - -CHAPTER LXXIII. - -THE LAST LOOK. - - -Time had flowed on smoothly in the quiet old place, with an even -current unbroken and unmarred, except by one event. Sir Henry -Ashwoode's danger was known to old French and Mr. Audley; but with -anxious and effectual care they kept all knowledge of his peril and -disgrace from poor Mary: this pang was spared her. The months that -passed had wrought in her a change so great and so melancholy, that -none could look upon her without sorrowful forebodings, without -misgivings against which they vainly strove. Sore grief had done its -worst: the light and graceful step grew languid and feeble--the young -face wan and wasted--the beautiful eyes grew dim; and now in her sad -and early decline, as in other times, when her smile was sunshine, and -her very step light music, was still with her the same warm and gentle -spirit; and even amid the waste and desolation of decay, still -prevailed the ineffaceable lines of that matchless and touching beauty, -which in other times had wrought such magic. - -It was upon that day, the night of which saw O'Connor's long-deferred -arrival at Ardgillagh, that Flora Guy, vainly striving to restrain her -tears, knocked at Mr. Audley's chamber door. The old gentleman quickly -answered the summons. - -"Ah, sir," said the girl, "she's very bad, sir, if you wish to see her, -come at once." - -"I _do_, indeed, wish to see her, the dear child," said he, while the -tears started to his eyes; "bring me to the room." - -He followed the kind girl to the door, and she first went in, and in a -low voice told her that Mr. Audley wished much to see her, and she, -with her own sweet, sad smile, bade her bring him to her bedside. - -Twice the old man essayed to enter, and twice he stayed to weep -bitterly as a child. At length he commanded composure enough to enter, -and stood by the bedside, and silently and reverently held the hand of -her that was dying. - -"My dear child! my darling!" said he, vainly striving to suppress his -sobs, while the tears fell fast upon the thin small hand he held in -his--"I have sought this interview, to tell you what I would fain have -told you often before now but knew not how to speak of it, I want to -speak to you of one who loved you, and loves you still, as mortal has -seldom loved; of--of my good young friend O'Connor." - -As he said this, he saw, or was it fancy, the faintest flush imaginable -for one moment tinge her pale cheek. He had touched a chord to which -the pulses of her heart, until they had ceased to beat, must tremble; -and silently and slow the tears gathered upon her long dark lashes, and -followed one another down her wan face, unheeded. Thus she listened -while he related how truly O'Connor had loved her, and when the tale -was ended she wept on long and silently. - -"Flora," she said at length, "cut off a lock of my hair." - -The girl did as she was desired, and in her thin and feeble hand her -young mistress took it. - -"Whenever you see him, sir," said she, "will you give him this, and say -that I sent it for a token that to the last I loved him, and to help -him to remember me when I am gone: this is my last message--and poor -Flora, won't you take care of her?" - -"Won't I, won't I!" sobbed the old man, vehemently. "While I have a -shilling in the world she shall never know want--faithful creature"--and -he grasped the honest girl's hand, and shook it, and sobbed and wept -like a child. - -He took the long dark ringlet, which he had promised to give to -O'Connor; and seeing that his presence agitated her, he took a long -last look at the young face he was never more to see in life, and -kissing the small hand again and again, he turned and went out, crying -bitterly. - -Soon after this she grew much fainter, and twice or thrice she spoke as -though her mind was busy with other scenes. - -"Let us go down to the well side," she said, "the primroses and -cowslips are always there the earliest;" and then she said again, "He's -coming, Flora; he'll be here very soon, so come and dress my hair; he -likes to see my hair dressed with flowers--wild flowers." - -Shortly after this she sank into a soft and gentle sleep, and while she -lay thus calmly, there came over her pale face a smile of such a pure -and heavenly light, that angelic hope, and peace, and glory, shone in -its beauty. The smile changed not; but she was dead! The sorrowful -struggle was over--the weary bosom was at rest--the true and gentle -heart was cold for ever--the brief but sorrowful trial was over--the -desolate mourner was gone to the land where the pangs of grief, the -tumults of passion, regrets, and cold neglect are felt no more. - -Her favourite bird, with gay wings, flutters to the casement; the -flowers she planted are sweet upon the evening air; and by their -hearths the poor still talk of her and bless her; but the silvery voice -that spoke, and the gentle hand that tended, and the beautiful smile -that gave an angelic grace to the offices of charity, where are they? - - -The tapers are lighted in the silent chamber, and Flora Guy has laid -early spring flowers on the still cold form that sleeps there in its -serene sad beauty tranquilly and for ever; when in the court-yard are -heard the tramp and clatter of a horse's hoofs--it is he--O'Connor,--he -comes for her--the long lost--the dearly loved--the true-hearted--the -found again. - -'Twere vain to tell of frantic grief--words cannot tell, nor -imagination conceive, the depth--the wildness--the desolation of that -woe. - - - - -CONCLUSION. - - -Some fifteen years ago there was still to be seen in the little ruined -church which occupies a corner in what yet remains of the once -magnificent domain of Ardgillagh, side by side among the tangled weeds, -two gravestones; one recording the death of Mary Ashwoode, at the early -age of twenty-two, in the year of grace 1710; the other, that of Edmond -O'Connor, who fell at Denain, in the year of our Lord 1712. Thus they -were, who in life were separated, laid side by side in death. It is a -still and sequestered spot, and the little ruin clothed in rich ivy, -and sheltered by the great old trees with its solemn and holy quiet, in -such a resting-place as most mortals would fain repose in when their -race is done. - -For the rest our task is quickly done. Mr. Audley and Oliver French had -so much gotten into one another's way of going on, that the former -gentleman from week to week, and from month to month, continued to -prolong his visit, until after a residence of eight years, he died at -length in the mansion of Ardgillagh, at a very advanced age, and -without more than two days' illness, having never experienced before, -in all his life, one hour's sickness of any kind. Honest Oliver French -outlived his boon companion by the space of two years, having just -eaten an omelette and actually called for some woodcock-pie; he -departed suddenly while the servant was raising the crust. Old Audley -left Flora Guy well provided for at his death, but somehow or other -considerably before that event Larry Toole succeeded in prevailing on -the honest handmaiden to marry him, and although, questionless, there -was some disparity in point of years, yet tradition says, and we -believe it, that there never lived a fonder or a happier couple, and it -is a genealogical fact, that half the Tooles who are now to be found in -that quarter of the country, derive their descent from the very -alliance in question. - -Of Major O'Leary we have only to say that the rumour which hinted at -his having united his fortunes with those of the house of Rumble, were -but too well founded. He retired with his buxom bride to a small -property, remote from the dissipation of the capital, and except in the -matter of an occasional cock-fight, whenever it happened to be within -reach, or a tough encounter with the squire, when a new pipe of claret -was to be tasted, one or two occasional indiscretions, he became, as he -himself declared, in all respects an ornament to society. - -Lady Stukely, within a few months after the explosion with young -Ashwoode, vented her indignation by actually marrying young -Pigwiggynne. It was said, indeed, that they were not happy; of this, -however, we cannot be sure; but it is undoubtedly certain that they -used to beat, scratch, and pinch each other in private--whether in play -merely, or with the serious intention of correcting one another's -infirmities of temper, we know not. Several weeks before Lady Stukely's -marriage, Emily Copland succeeded in her long-cherished schemes against -the celibacy of poor Lord Aspenly. His lordship, however, lived on with -a perseverance perfectly spiteful, and his lady, alas and alack-a-day, -tired out, at length committed a _faux pas_--the trial is on record, -and eventuated, it is sufficient to say, in a verdict for the -plaintiff. - -Of Chancey, we have only to say that his fate was as miserable as his -life had been abject and guilty. When he arose after the tremendous -fall which he had received at the hands of his employer, Nicholas -Blarden, upon the memorable night which defeated all their schemes, for -he _did_ arise with life--intellect and remembrance were alike -quenched--he was thenceforward a drivelling idiot. Though none cared to -inquire into the cause and circumstances of his miserable privation, -long was he well known and pointed out in the streets of Dublin, where -he subsisted upon the scanty alms of superstitious charity, until at -length, during the great frost in the year 1739, he was found dead one -morning, in a corner under St. Audoen's Arch, stark and cold, cowering -in his accustomed attitude. - -Nicholas Blarden died upon his feather bed, and if every luxury which -imagination can devise, or prodigal wealth procure, can avail to soothe -the racking torments of the body, and the terrors of the appalled -spirit, he died happy. - -Of the other actors in this drama--with the exception of M'Quirk, who -was publicly whipped for stealing four pounds of sausages from an eating -house in Bride Street, and the Italian, who, we believe, was seen as -groom-porter in Mr. Blarden's hell, for many years after--tradition is -silent. - - - [Illustration: The End.] - - -GILBERT AND RIVINGTON, LD., ST. JOHN'S HOUSE, CLERKENWELL. - - - - - - -End of Project Gutenberg's The Cock and Anchor, by Joseph Sheridan Le Fanu - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE COCK AND ANCHOR *** - -***** This file should be named 40126-8.txt or 40126-8.zip ***** -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: - http://www.gutenberg.org/4/0/1/2/40126/ - -Produced by Suzanne Shell and the Online Distributed -Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was -produced from images generously made available by The -Internet Archive/Canadian Libraries) - - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions -will be renamed. - -Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no -one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation -(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without -permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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Hart was the originator of the Project Gutenberg-tm -concept of a library of electronic works that could be freely shared -with anyone. For forty years, he produced and distributed Project -Gutenberg-tm eBooks with only a loose network of volunteer support. - -Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks are often created from several printed -editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the U.S. -unless a copyright notice is included. Thus, we do not necessarily -keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition. - -Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search facility: - - www.gutenberg.org - -This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm, -including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary -Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to -subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. diff --git a/old/40126-8.zip b/old/40126-8.zip Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index e49a9ba..0000000 --- a/old/40126-8.zip +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/40126.txt b/old/40126.txt deleted file mode 100644 index 1b06a81..0000000 --- a/old/40126.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,17837 +0,0 @@ -Project Gutenberg's The Cock and Anchor, by Joseph Sheridan Le Fanu - -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 Cock and Anchor - -Author: Joseph Sheridan Le Fanu - -Illustrator: Brinsley Le Fanu - -Release Date: July 2, 2012 [EBook #40126] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: ASCII - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE COCK AND ANCHOR *** - - - - -Produced by Suzanne Shell and the Online Distributed -Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was -produced from images generously made available by The -Internet Archive/Canadian Libraries) - - - - - - - [Illustration: "'Farewell, my lord!' said Swift, abruptly." - _Frontispiece_.] - - -The Cock And Anchor - - -By - -Joseph Sheridan Le Fanu - - -Illustrated by -Brinsley Le Fanu - - -Downey & Co. -12 York St. -Covent Garden. - -(1895) - - - - -NOTE. - - -"THE COCK AND ANCHOR: a Chronicle of Old Dublin City," was first -published in Dublin in three volumes in 1845, with the joint imprints -of William Curry, Junior, & Co., Dublin; Longman, Brown, Green & -Longmans, London; and Fraser & Co., Edinburgh. There is no author's -name on the title-page of the original edition. The work has not since -been reprinted under the title of "The Cock and Anchor;" but some years -after its first appearance my father made several alterations (most of -which are adhered to in the present edition) in the story, and it was -re-issued in the Select Library of Fiction under the title of "Morley -Court." - -The novel has been out of print for a long period, and I have decided -to republish it now under its original and proper title. I have made -no changes in such dates as are mentioned here and there in the course -of the narrative, but the reader should bear in mind that this -"Chronicle of Old Dublin City" was written fifty years ago. - -BRINSLEY SHERIDAN LE FANU. - -_London, July, 1895._ - - - - -CONTENTS. - - -CHAPTER PAGE - - I.--THE "COCK AND ANCHOR" 1 - - II.--A BED IN THE "COCK AND ANCHOR" 6 - - III.--THE LITTLE MAN 10 - - IV.--A SCARLET HOOD 14 - - V.--O'CONNOR'S MOONLIGHT WALK 23 - - VI.--THE SOLDIER 28 - - VII.--THREE GRIM FIGURES 36 - - VIII.--THE WARNING 40 - - IX.--THE "BLEEDING HORSE" 44 - - X.--THE MASTER OF MORLEY COURT 51 - - XI.--THE OLD BEECH TREE WALK 62 - - XII.--THE APPOINTED HOUR 72 - - XIII.--THE INTERVIEW 75 - - XIV.--ABOUT A CERTAIN GARDEN AND A DAMSEL 83 - - XV.--THE TRAITOR 88 - - XVI.--SIGNOR PARUCCI ALONE 92 - - XVII.--DUBLIN CASTLE BY NIGHT 99 - - XVIII.--THE TWO COUSINS 106 - - XIX.--THE THEATRE 110 - - XX.--THE LODGING 116 - - XXI.--WHO APPEARED TO MARY ASHWOODE 122 - - XXII.--THE SPINET 125 - - XXIII.--THE DARK ROOM 131 - - XXIV.--A CRITIC 135 - - XXV.--THE COMBAT AND ITS ISSUE 140 - - XXVI.--THE HELL 143 - - XXVII.--THE DEPARTURE OF THE PEER 151 - - XXVIII.--THE THUNDER-STORM 154 - - XXIX.--THE CRONES 157 - - XXX.--SKY-COPPER COURT 163 - - XXXI.--THE USURER AND THE OAKEN BOX 168 - - XXXII.--THE DIABOLIC WHISPER 171 - - XXXIII.--HOW SIR HENRY ASHWOODE PLAYED AND PLOTTED 174 - - XXXIV.--THE "OLD ST. COLUMBKIL" 178 - - XXXV.--THE COUSIN AND THE BLACK CABINET 184 - - XXXVI.--JEWELS, PLATE, HORSES, DOGS 189 - - XXXVII.--THE RECKONING 191 - -XXXVIII.--STRANGE GUESTS AT THE MANOR 196 - - XXXIX.--THE BARGAIN 199 - - XL.--DREAMS 204 - - XLI.--A CERTAIN TRAVELLING ECCLESIASTIC 208 - - XLII.--THE SQUIRES 212 - - XLIII.--THE WILD WOOD 217 - - XLIV.--THE DOOM 222 - - XLV.--THE MAN IN THE CLOAK 226 - - XLVI.--THE DOUBLE CONFERENCE 231 - - XLVII.--THE "JOLLY BOWLERS" 236 - - XLVIII.--THE STAINED RUFFLES 241 - - XLIX.--OLD SONGS 246 - - L.--THE PRESS IN THE WALL 252 - - LI.--FLORA GUY 259 - - LII.--MARY ASHWOODE'S WALK 262 - - LIII.--THE DOUBLE FAREWELL 266 - - LIV.--THE TWO CHANCES 273 - - LV.--THE FEARFUL VISITANT 277 - - LVI.--EBENEZER SHYCOCK 280 - - LVII.--THE CHAPLAIN'S ARRIVAL AT MORLEY COURT 284 - - LVIII.--THE SIGNAL 290 - - LIX.--HASTE AND PERIL 296 - - LX.--THE UNTREASURED CHAMBER 299 - - LXI.--THE CART AND THE STRAW 302 - - LXII.--THE COUNCIL 308 - - LXIII.--PARTING 311 - - LXIV.--MISTRESS MARTHA AND BLACK M'GUINNESS 315 - - LXV.--THE CONFERENCE 319 - - LXVI.--THE BED-CHAMBER 322 - - LXVII.--THE EXPULSION 327 - - LXVIII.--THE FRAY 332 - - LXIX.--THE BOLTED WINDOW 337 - - LXX.--THE BARONET'S ROOM 341 - - LXXI.--THE FAREWELL 345 - - LXXII.--THE ROPE AND THE RIOT 349 - - LXXIII.--THE LAST LOOK 354 - - CONCLUSION 357 - - - - -LIST OF FULL PAGE ILLUSTRATIONS. - - -"Farewell, my lord," said Swift, abruptly _Frontispiece_ - -Threw himself luxuriously into a capacious - leather-bottomed chair _to face page_ 4 - -Again the conqueror crowed the shrill - note of victory " 34 - -Parucci approached the prostrate figure " 156 - -"Painted! varnished!" she screamed hysterically " 188 - -He made his way to the aperture " 223 - -Glide noiselessly behind Chancey " 293 - -Driven to bay ... he drew his sword " 338 - -His horse, snorting loudly, checked his pace " 354 - - - - -THE "COCK AND ANCHOR." - - - - -CHAPTER I. - -THE "COCK AND ANCHOR"--TWO HORSEMEN--AND A SUPPER BY THE INN FIRE. - - -Some time within the first ten years of the last century, there stood -in the fair city of Dublin, and in one of those sinuous and narrow -streets which lay in the immediate vicinity of the Castle, a goodly and -capacious hostelry, snug and sound, and withal carrying in its aspect -something staid and aristocratic, and perhaps in nowise the less -comfortable that it was rated, in point of fashion, somewhat obsolete. -Its structure was quaint and antique; so much so, that had its -counterpart presented itself within the precincts of "the Borough," it -might fairly have passed itself off for the genuine old Tabard of -Geoffry Chaucer. - -The front of the building, facing the street, rested upon a row of -massive wooden blocks, set endwise, at intervals of some six or eight -feet, and running parallel at about the same distance, to the wall of -the lower story of the house, thus forming a kind of rude cloister or -open corridor, running the whole length of the building. - -The spaces between these rude pillars were, by a light frame-work of -timber, converted into a succession of arches; and by an application of -the same ornamental process, the ceiling of this extended porch was -made to carry a clumsy but not unpicturesque imitation of groining. -Upon this open-work of timber, as we have already said, rested the -second story of the building; protruding beyond which again, and -supported upon beams whose projecting ends were carved into the -semblance of heads hideous as the fantastic monsters of heraldry, arose -the third story, presenting a series of tall and fancifully-shaped -gables, decorated, like the rest of the building, with an abundance of -grotesque timber-work. A wide passage, opening under the corridor which -we have described, gave admission into the inn-yard, surrounded partly -by the building itself, and partly by the stables and other offices -connected with it. Viewed from a little distance, the old fabric -presented by no means an unsightly or ungraceful aspect: on the -contrary, its very irregularities and antiquity, however in reality -objectionable, gave to it an air of comfort and almost of dignity to -which many of its more pretending and modern competitors might in vain -have aspired. Whether it was, that from the first the substantial -fabric had asserted a conscious superiority over all the minor -tenements which surrounded it, or that they in modest deference had -gradually conceded to it the prominence which it deserved--whether, in -short, it had always stood foremost, or that the street had slightly -altered its course and gradually receded, leaving it behind, an -immemorial and immovable landmark by which to measure the encroachments -of ages--certain it is, that at the time we speak of, the sturdy -hostelry stood many feet in advance of the line of houses which flanked -it on either side, narrowing the street with a most aristocratic -indifference to the comforts of the pedestrian public, thus forced to -shift for life and limb, as best they might, among the vehicles and -horses which then thronged the city streets--no doubt, too, often by -the very difficulties which it presented, entrapping the over-cautious -passenger, who preferred entering the harbour which its hospitable and -capacious doorway offered, to encountering all the perils involved in -doubling the point. - -Such as we have attempted to describe it, the old building stood more -than a century since; and when the level sunbeams at eventide glinted -brightly on its thousand miniature window panes, and upon the broad -hanging panel, which bore, in the brightest hues and richest gilding, -the portraiture of a Cock and Anchor; and when the warm, discoloured -glow of sunset touched the time-worn front of the old building with a -rich and cheery blush, even the most fastidious would have allowed that -the object was no unpleasing one. - -A dark autumnal night had closed over the old city of Dublin, and the -wind was blustering in hoarse gusts through the crowded -chimney-stacks--careening desolately through the dim streets, and -occasionally whirling some loose tile or fragment of plaster from the -house tops. The streets were silent and deserted, except when -occasionally traversed by some great man's carriage, thundering and -clattering along the broken pavement, and by its passing glare and -rattle making the succeeding darkness and silence but the more dreary. -None stirred abroad who could avoid it; and with the exception of such -rare interruptions as we have mentioned, the storm and darkness held -undisputed possession of the city. Upon this ungenial night, and -somewhat past the hour of ten, a well-mounted traveller rode into the -narrow and sheltered yard of the "Cock and Anchor;" and having bestowed -upon the groom who took the bridle of his steed such minute and anxious -directions as betokened a kind and knightly tenderness for the comforts -of his good beast, he forthwith entered the public room of the inn--a -large and comfortable chamber, having at the far end a huge hearth -overspanned by a broad and lofty mantelpiece of stone, and now sending -forth a warm and ruddy glow, which penetrated in genial streams to -every recess and corner of the room, tinging the dark wainscoting of -the walls, glinting red and brightly upon the burnished tankards and -flagons with which the cupboard was laden, and playing cheerily over -the massive beams which traversed the ceiling. Groups of men, variously -occupied and variously composed, embracing all the usual company of a -well frequented city tavern--from the staid and sober man of business, -who smokes his pipe in peace, to the loud disputatious, half-tipsy town -idler, who calls for more flagons than he can well reckon, and then -quarrels with mine host about the shot--were disposed, some singly, -others in social clusters, in cosy and luxurious ease at the stout oak -tables which occupied the expansive chamber. Among these the stranger -passed leisurely to a vacant table in the neighbourhood of the good -fire, and seating himself thereat, doffed his hat and cloak, thereby -exhibiting a finely proportioned and graceful figure, and a face of -singular nobleness and beauty. He might have seen some thirty -summers--perhaps less--but his dark and expressive features bore a -character of resolution and melancholy which seemed to tell of more -griefs and perils overpast than men so young in the world can generally -count. - -The new-comer, having thrown his hat and gloves upon the table at which -he had placed himself, stretched his stalwart limbs toward the fire in -the full enjoyment of its genial influence, and advancing the heels of -his huge jack boots nearly to the bars, he seemed for a time wholly -lost in the comfortable contemplation of the red embers which -flickered, glowed, and shifted before his eyes. From his quiet reverie -he was soon recalled by mine host in person, who, with all courtesy, -desired to know "whether his honour wished supper and a bed?" Both -questions were promptly answered in the affirmative: and before many -minutes the young horseman was deep in the discussion of a glorious -pasty, flanked by a flagon of claret, such as he had seldom tasted -before. He had scarcely concluded his meal, when another traveller, -cloaked, booted, and spurred, and carrying under his arm a pair of long -horse-pistols, and a heavy whip, entered the apartment, walked straight -up to the fire-place, and having obtained permission of the cavalier -already established there to take share of his table, he deposited -thereon the formidable weapons which he carried, cast his hat, gloves, -and cloak upon the floor, and threw himself luxuriously into a -capacious leather-bottomed chair which confronted the cheery fire. - - [Illustration: "Threw himself luxuriously into a capacious, - leather-bottomed chair." - _To face page 4._] - -"A bleak night, sir, and a dark, for a ride of twenty miles," observed -the stranger, addressing the younger guest. - -"I can the more readily agree with you, sir," replied the latter, -"seeing that I myself have ridden nigh forty, and am but just arrived." - -"Whew! that beats me hollow," cried the other, with a kind of -self-congratulatory shrug. "You see, sir, we never know how to thank -our stars for the luck we _have_ until we come to learn what luck we -might have had. I rode from Wicklow--pray, sir, if it be not too bold a -question, what line did you travel?" - -"The Cork road." - -"Ha! that's an ugly line they say to travel by night. You met with no -interruption?" - -"Troth, but I _did_, sir," replied the young man, "and none of the -pleasantest either. I was stopped, and put in no small peril, too." - -"How! stopped--stopped on the highway! By the mass, you outdo me in -every point! Would you, sir, please to favour me, if 'twere not too -much trouble, with the facts of the adventure--the particulars?" - -"Faith, sir," rejoined the young man, "as far as my knowledge serves -me, you are welcome to them all. When I was still about twelve miles -from this, I was joined from a by-road by a well mounted, and (as far -as I could discern) a respectable-looking traveller, who told me he -rode for Dublin, and asked to join company by the way. I assented; and -we jogged on pleasantly enough for some two or three miles. It was very -dark----" - -"As pitch," ejaculated the stranger, parenthetically. - -"And what little scope of vision I might have had," continued the -younger traveller, "was well nigh altogether obstructed by the constant -flapping of my cloak, blown by the storm over my face and eyes. I -suddenly became conscious that we had been joined by a third horseman, -who, in total silence, rode at my other side." - -"How and when did _he_ come up with you?" - -"I can't say," replied the narrator--"nor did his presence give me the -smallest uneasiness. He who had joined me first, all at once called out -that his stirrup strap was broken, and halloo'd to me to rein in until -he should repair the accident. This I had hardly done, when some -fellow, whom I had not seen, sprang from behind upon my horse, and -clasped my arms so tightly to my body, that so far from making use of -them, I could hardly breathe. The scoundrel who had dismounted caught -my horse by the head and held him firmly, while my hitherto silent -companion clapped a pistol to my ear." - -"The devil!" exclaimed the elder man, "that was checkmate with a -vengeance." - -"Why, in truth, so it turned out," rejoined his companion; "though I -confess my first impulse was to balk the gentlemen of the road at any -hazard; and with this view I plied my spurs rowel deep, but the rascal -who held the bridle was too old a hand to be shaken off by a plunge or -two. He swung with his whole weight to the bit, and literally brought -poor Rowley's nose within an inch of the road. Finding that resistance -was utterly vain, and not caring to squander what little brains I have -upon so paltry an adventure, I acknowledged the jurisdiction of the -gentleman's pistol, and replied to his questions." - -"You proved your sound sense by so doing," observed the other. "But -what was their purpose?" - -"As far as I could gather," replied the younger man, "they were upon -the look-out for some particular person, I cannot say whom; for, either -satisfied by my answers, or having otherwise discovered their mistake, -they released me without taking anything from me but my sword, which, -however, I regret much, for it was my father's; and having blown the -priming from my pistols, they wished me the best of good luck, and so -we parted, without the smallest desire on my part to renew the -intimacy. And now, sir, you know just as much of the matter as I do -myself." - -"And a very serious matter it is, too," observed the stranger, with an -emphatic nod. "Landlord! a pint of mulled claret--and spice it as I -taught you--d'ye mind? A very grave matter--do you think you could -possibly identify those men?" - -"Identify them! how the devil could I?--it was dark as pitch--a cat -could not have seen them." - -"But was there no mark--no peculiarity discernible, even in the dense -obscurity--nothing about any of them, such as you might know again?" - -"Nothing--the very outline was indistinct. I could merely pee that they -were shaped like men." - -"Truly, truly, that is much to be lamented," said the elder gentleman; -"though fifty to one," he added, devoutly, "they'll hang one day or -another--let that console us. Meantime, here comes the claret." - -So saying, the new-comer rose from his seat, coolly removed his black -matted peruke from his shorn head, and replaced it by a dark velvet -cap, which he drew from some mysterious nook in his breeches pocket; -then, hanging the wig upon the back of his chair, he wheeled the seat -round to the table, and for the first time offered to his companion an -opportunity of looking him fairly in the face. If he were a believer in -the influence of first impressions, he had certainly acted wisely in -deferring the exhibition until the acquaintance had made some progress, -for his countenance was, in sober truth, anything but attractive--a -pair of grizzled brows overshadowed eyes of quick and piercing black, -rather small, and unusually restless and vivid--the mouth was wide, and -the jaw so much underhung as to amount almost to a deformity, giving to -the lower part of the face a character of resolute ferocity which was -not at all softened by the keen fiery glance of his eye; a massive -projecting forehead, marked over the brow with a deep scar, and -furrowed by years and thought, added not a little to the stern and -commanding expression of the face. The complexion was swarthy; and -altogether the countenance was one of that sinister and unpleasant kind -which the imagination associates with scenes of cruelty and terror, and -which might appropriately take a prominent place in the foreground of a -feverish dream. The young traveller had seen too many ugly sights, in -the course of a roving life of danger and adventure, to remember for a -moment the impression which his new companion's visage was calculated -to produce. They chatted together freely; and the elder (who, by the -way, exhibited no very strong Irish peculiarities of accent or idiom, -any more than did the other) when he bid his companion good-night, left -him under the impression that, however forbidding his aspect might be, -his physical disadvantages were more than counterbalanced by the -shrewd, quick sagacity, correct judgment, and wide range of experience -of which he appeared possessed. - - - - -CHAPTER II. - -A BED IN THE "COCK AND ANCHOR"--A LANTERN AND AN UGLY VISITOR BY THE -BEDSIDE. - - -Leaving the public room to such as chose to push their revels beyond -the modesty of midnight, our young friend betook himself to his -chamber; where, snugly deposited in one of the snuggest beds which the -"Cock and Anchor" afforded, with the ample tapestry curtains drawn from -post to post, while the rude wind buffeted the casements and moaned -through the antique chimney-tops, he was soon locked in the deep, -dreamless slumber of fatigue. - -How long this sweet oblivion may have lasted it was not easy to say; -some hours, however, had no doubt intervened, when the sleeper was -startled from his repose by a noise at his chamber door. The latch was -raised, and someone bearing a shaded light entered the room and -cautiously closed the door again. In the belief that the intruder was -some guest or domestic of the inn who either mistook the room or was -not aware of its occupation, the young man coughed once or twice -slightly in token of his presence, and observing that his signal had -not the desired effect, he inquired rather sharply,-- - -"Who is there?" - -The only answer returned was a long "Hist!" and forthwith the steps of -the unseasonable visitor were directed to the bedside. The person thus -disturbed had hardly time to raise himself half upright when the -curtains at one side were drawn apart, and by the imperfect light which -forced its way through the horn enclosure of a lantern, he beheld the -bronzed and sinister features of his fireside companion of the previous -evening. The stranger was arrayed for the road, with his cloak and -cocked hat on. Both parties, the visited and the visitor, for a time -remained silent and in the same fixed attitude. - -"Pray, sir," at length inquired the person thus abruptly intruded upon, -"to what special good fortune do I owe this most unlooked-for visit?" - -The elder man made no reply; but deliberately planted the large dingy -lantern which he carried upon the bed in which the young man lay. - -"You have tarried somewhat too long over the wine-cup," continued he, -not a little provoked at the coolness of the intruder. "This, sir, is -not your chamber; seek it elsewhere. I am in no mood to bandy jests. -You will consult your own ease as well as mine by quitting this room -with all dispatch." - -"Young gentleman," replied the elder man in a low, firm tone, "I have -used short ceremony in disturbing you thus. To judge from your face you -are no less frank than hardy. You will not require apologies when you -have heard me. When I last night sate with you I observed about you a -token long since familiar to me as the light--you wear it on your -finger--it is a diamond ring. That ring belonged to a dear friend of -mine--an old comrade and a tried friend in a hundred griefs and perils: -the owner was Richard O'Connor. I have not heard from him for ten years -or more. Can you say how he fares?" - -"The brave soldier and good man you have named was my father," replied -the young man, mournfully. - -"_Was!_" repeated the stranger. "Is he then no more--is he dead?" - -"Even so," replied the young man, sadly. - -"I knew it--I felt it. When I saw that jewel last night something smote -at my heart and told me, that the hand that wore it once was cold. Ah, -me! it was a friendly and a brave hand. Through all the wars of King -James" (and so saying he touched his hat) "we were together, companions -in arms and bosom friends. He was a comely man and a strong; no -hardship tired him, no difficulty dismayed him; and the merriest fellow -he was that ever trod on Irish ground. Poor O'Connor! in exile; away, -far away from the country he loved so well; among foreigners too. Well, -well, wheresoever they have laid thee, there moulders not a truer nor a -braver heart in the fields of all the world!" - -He paused, sighed deeply, and then continued,-- - -"Sorely, sorely are thine old comrades put to it, day by day, and night -by night, for comfort and for safety--sorely vexed and pillaged. -Nevertheless--over-ridden, and despised, and scattered as we are, -mercenaries and beggars abroad, and landless at home--still something -whispers in my ear that there will come at last a retribution, and such -a one as will make this perjured, corrupt, and robbing ascendency a -warning and a wonder to all after times. Is it a common thing, think -you, that all the gentlemen, all the chivalry of a whole country--the -natural leaders and protectors of the people--should be stripped of -their birthright, ay, even of the poor privilege of seeing in this -their native country, strangers possessing the inheritances which are -in _all_ right their own; cast abroad upon the world; soldiers of -fortune, selling their blood for a bare subsistence; many of them dying -of want; and all because for honour and conscience sake they refused to -break the oath which bound them to a ruined prince? Is it a slight -thing, think you, to visit with pains and penalties such as these, men -guilty of no crimes beyond those of fidelity and honour?" - -The stranger said this with an intensity of passion, to which the low -tone in which he spoke but gave an additional impressiveness. After a -short pause he again spoke,-- - -"Young gentleman," said he, "you may have heard your father--whom the -saints receive!--speak, when talking over old recollections, of one -Captain O'Hanlon, who shared with him the most eventful scenes of a -perilous time. He may, I say, have spoken of such a one." - -"He has spoken of him," replied the young man; "often, and kindly too." - -"I am that man," continued the stranger; "your father's old friend and -comrade; and right glad am I, seeing that I can never hope to meet him -more on this side the grave, to renew, after a kind, a friendship which -I much prized, now in the person of his son. Give me your hand, young -gentleman: I pledge you mine in the spirit of a tried and faithful -friendship. I inquire not what has brought you to this unhappy country; -I am sure it can be nothing which lies not within the eye of honour, so -I ask not concerning it; but on the contrary, I will tell you of myself -what may surprise you--what will, at least, show that I am ready to -trust you freely. You were stopped to-night upon the Southern road, -some ten miles from this. It was _I_ who stopped you!" - -O'Connor made a sudden but involuntary movement of menace; but without -regarding it, O'Hanlon continued,-- - -"You are astonished, perhaps shocked--you look so; but mind you, there -is some difference between _stopping_ men on the highway, and _robbing_ -them when you have stopped them. I took you for one who we were -informed would pass that way, and about the same hour--one who carried -letters from a pretended friend--one whom I have long suspected, a -half-faced, cold-hearted friend--carried letters, I say, from such a -one to the Castle here; to that malignant, perjured reprobate and -apostate, the so-called Lord Wharton--as meet an ornament for a gibbet -as ever yet made a feast for the ravens. I was mistaken: here is your -sword; and may you long wear it as well as he from whom it was -inherited." Here he raised the weapon, the blade of which he held in -his hand, and the young man saw it and the hilt flash and glitter in -the dusky light. "And take the advice of an old soldier, young friend," -continued O'Hanlon, "and when you are next, which I hope may not be for -many a long day, overpowered by odds and at their mercy, do not by -fruitless violence tempt them to disable you by a simpler and less -pleasant process than that of merely taking your sword and unpriming -your pistols. Many a good man has thrown away his life by such boyish -foolery. Upon the table by your bed you will in the morning find your -rapier, and God grant that it and you may long prove fortunate -companions!" He was turning to go, but recollecting himself, he added, -"One word before I go. I am known here as Mr. Dwyer--remember the name, -Dwyer--I am generally to be heard of in this place. Should you at any -time during your stay in this city require the assistance of a friend -who has a cheerful willingness to serve you, and who is not perhaps -altogether destitute of power, you have only to leave a billet in the -hand of the keeper of this inn, and if I be above ground it will reach -me--of course address it under the name I have last mentioned--and so, -young gentleman, fare you well." So saying, he grasped the hand of his -new friend, shook it warmly, and then, turning upon his heel, strode -swiftly to the door, and so departed, leaving O'Connor with so much -abruptness as not to allow him time to utter a question or remark on -what had passed. - -The excitement of the interview speedily passed away, the fatigues of -the preceding day were persuasively seconded by the soothing sound of -the now abated wind and by the utter darkness of the chamber, and the -young man was soon deep in the forgetfulness of sleep once more. When -the broad, red light of the morning sun broke cheerily into his room, -streaming through the chinks of the old shutters, and penetrating -through the voluminous folds of the vast curtains of rich, faded damask -which surmounted the huge hearse-like bed in which he lay, so as to -make its inmate aware that the hour of repose was past and that of -action come, O'Connor remembered the circumstances of the interview -which had been so strangely intruded upon him but as a dream; nor was -it until he saw the sword which he had believed irrecoverably lost -lying safely upon the table, that he felt assured that the visit and -its purport were not the creation of his slumbering fancy. In reply to -his questions when he descended, he was informed by mine host of the -"Cock and Anchor," that Mr. Dwyer had left the inn-yard upon his stout -hack, a good hour before daybreak. - - - - -CHAPTER III. - -THE LITTLE MAN IN BLUE AND SILVER. - - -Among the loungers who loitered at the door of the "Cock and Anchor," -as the day wore on, there appeared a personage whom it behoves us to -describe. This was a small man, with a very red face and little grey -eyes--he wore a cloth coat of sky blue, with here and there a piece of -silver lace laid upon it without much regard to symmetry; for the -scissors had evidently displaced far the greater part of the original -decorations, whose primitive distribution might be traced by the -greater freshness of the otherwise faded cloth which they had covered, -as well as by some stray threads, which stood like stubbles here and -there to mark the ravages of the sickle. One hand was buried in the -deep flap pocket of a waistcoat of the same hue and material, and -bearing also, in like manner, the evidences of a very decided -retrenchment in the article of silver lace. These symptoms of economy, -however, in no degree abated the evident admiration with which the -wearer every now and then stole a glance on what remained of its -pristine splendours--a glance which descended not ungraciously upon a -leg in whose fascinations its owner reposed an implicit faith. His -right hand held a tobacco-pipe, which, although its contents were not -ignited, he carried with a luxurious nonchalance ever and anon to the -corner of his mouth, where it afforded him sundry imaginary puffs--a -cheap and fanciful luxury, in which my Irish readers need not be told -their humbler countrymen, for lack of better, are wont to indulge. He -leaned against one of the stout wooden pillars on which the front of -the building was reared, and interlarded his economical pantomime of -pipe-smoking with familiar and easy conversation with certain of the -outdoor servants of the inn--a familiarity which argued not any sense -of superiority proportionate to the pretension of his attire. - -"And so," said the little man, turning with an aristocratic ease -towards a stout fellow in a jerkin, with bluff visage and folded arms, -who stood beside him, and addressing him in a most melodious -brogue--"and so, for sartain, you have but five single gintlemen in the -house--mind, I say _single_ gintlemen--for, divil carry me if ever I -take up with a _family_ again--it doesn't answer--it don't _shoot_ -me--I was never made for a family, nor a family for me--I can't stand -their b----y regularity; and--" with a sigh of profound sentiment, and -lowering his voice, he added--"and, the maid-sarvants--no, devil a -taste--they don't answer--they don't _shoot_. My disposition, Tom, is -tindher--tindher to imbecility--I never see a petticoat but it flutters -my heart--the short and the long of it is, I'm always falling in -love--and sometimes the passion is not retaliated by the object, and -more times it is--but, in both cases, I'm aiqually the victim--for my -intintions is always honourable, and of course nothin' comes of it. My -life was fairly frettin' away in a dhrame of passion among the -housemaids--I felt myself witherin' away like a flower in autumn--I was -losing my relish for everything, from bacon and table-dhrink -upwards--dangers were thickening round me--I had but one way to -execrate myself--I gave notice--I departed, and here I am." - -Having wound up the sentence, the speaker leaned forward and spat -passionately on the ground--a pause ensued, which was at length broken -by the same speaker. - -"Only two out of the five," said he, reflectively, "only two unprovided -with sarvants." - -"And neither of 'em," rejoined Tom, a blunt English groom, "very likely -to want one. The one is a lawyer, with a hack as lean as himself, and -more holes, I warrant, than half-pence in his breeches pocket. He's out -a-looking for lodgings, I take it." - -"He's not exactly what I want," rejoined the little man. "What's -th'other like?" - -"A gentleman, every inch, or _I'm_ no judge," replied the groom. "He -came last night, and as likely a bit of horseflesh under him as ever my -two hands wisped down. He chucked me a crown-piece this morning, as if -it had been no more nor a cockle shell--he did." - -"By gorra, he'll do!" exclaimed the little man energetically. "It's a -bargain--I'm his man." - -"Ay, but you mayn't answer, brother; he mayn't take you," observed Tom. - -"Wait a bit--_jist_ wait a bit, till he sees me," replied he of the -blue coat. - -"Ay, wait a bit," persevered the groom, coolly--"wait a bit, and when -he _does_ see you, it strikes me wery possible he mayn't like your -cut." - -"Not like my cut!" exclaimed the little man, as soon as he had -recovered breath; for the bare supposition of such an occurrence -involved in his opinion so utter and astounding a contradiction of all -the laws by which human antipathies and affections are supposed to be -regulated, that he felt for a moment as if his whole previous existence -had been a dream and an illusion. "Not like my _cut_!" - -"No," rejoined the groom, with perfect imperturbability. - -The little man deigned no other reply than that conveyed in a glance of -the most inexpressible contempt, which, having wandered over the person -and accoutrements of the unconscious Tom, at length settled upon his -own lower extremities, where it gradually softened into a gaze of -melancholy complacency, while he muttered, with a pitying smile, "Not -like my cut--not like it!" and then, turning majestically towards the -groom, he observed, with laconic dignity,-- - -"I humbly consave the gintleman has an eye in his head." - -This rebuke had hardly been administered when the subject of their -conference in person passed from the inn into the street. - -"There he goes," observed Tom. - -"And here _I_ go after him," added the candidate for a place; and in a -moment he was following O'Connor with rapid steps through the narrow -streets of the town, southward. It occurred to him, as he hurried after -his intended master, that it might not be amiss to defer his interview -until they were out of the streets, and in some more quiet place; nor -in all probability would he have disturbed himself at all to follow the -young gentleman, were it not that even in the transient glimpse which -he had had of the person and features of O'Connor, the little man -thought, and by no means incorrectly, that he recognized the form of -one whom he had often seen before. - -"That's Mr. O'Connor, as sure as my name's Larry Toole," muttered the -little man, half out of breath with his exertions--"an' it's himself'll -be proud to get me. I wondher what he's afther now. I'll soon see, at -any rate." - -Thus communing within himself, Larry alternately walked and trotted to -keep the chase in view. He might very easily have come up with the -object of his pursuit, for on reaching St. Patrick's Cathedral, -O'Connor paused, and for some minutes contemplated the old building. -Larry, however, did not care to commence his intended negotiation in -the street; he purposed giving him rope enough, having, in truth, no -peculiar object in following him at that precise moment, beyond the -gratification of an idle curiosity; he therefore hung back until -O'Connor was again in motion, when he once more renewed his pursuit. - -O'Connor had soon passed the smoky precincts of the town, and was now -walking at a slackened pace among the green fields and the trees, all -clothed in the rich melancholy hues of early autumn. The evening sun -was already throwing its mellow tint on all the landscape, and the -lengthening shadows told how far the day was spent. In the transition -from the bustle of a town to the lonely quiet of the country at -eventide, and especially at that season of the year when decay begins -to sadden the beauties of nature, there is something at once soothing -and unutterably melancholy. Leaving behind the glare, and dust, and -hubbub of the town, who has not felt in his inmost heart the still -appeal of nature? The saddened beauty of sear autumn, enhanced by the -rich and subdued light of gorgeous sunset--the filmy mist--the -stretching shadows--the serene quiet, broken only by rural sounds, more -soothing even than silence--all these, contrasted with the sounds and -sights of the close, restless city, speak tenderly and solemnly to the -heart of man of the beauty of creation, of the goodness of God, and, -along with these, of the mournful condition of all nature--change, -decay, and death. Such thoughts and feelings, stealing in succession -upon the heart, touch, one by one, the springs of all our sublimest -sympathies, and fill the mind with the beautiful sense of brotherhood, -under God, with all nature. Under the not unpleasing influence of such -suggestions, O'Connor slackened his pace to a slow irregular walk, -which sorely tried the patience of honest Larry Toole. - -"After all," exclaimed that worthy, "it's nothin' more nor less than an -evening walk he's takin', God bless the mark! What business have I -followin' him? unless--see--sure enough he's takin' the short cut to -the manor. By gorra, this is worth mindin'--I must not folly him, -however--I don't want to meet the family--so here I'll plant myself -until sich times as he's comin' back again." - -So saying, Larry Toole clambered to the top of the grassy embankment -which fenced the road, and seating himself between a pair of aged -hawthorn-trees, he watched young O'Connor as he followed the wanderings -of a wild bridle-road until he was at length fairly hidden from view by -the intervening trees and brushwood. - - - - -CHAPTER IV. - -A SCARLET HOOD AMONG THE OLD TREES--THE MANOR OF MORLEY COURT--AND A -PEEP INTO AN ANTIQUE CHAMBER. - - -The path which O'Connor followed was one of those quiet and pleasant -by-roads which, in defiance of what are called improvements, are still -to be discovered throughout Ireland here and there, in some unsuspected -region, winding their green and sequestered ways through many a varied -scene of rural beauty; and, unless when explored by some chance -fisherman or tourist, unknown to all except the poor peasant to whose -simple conveniences they minister. - -Low and uneven embankments, overgrown by a thousand kinds of weeds and -wild flowers and brushwood, marked the boundaries of this rustic -pathway, but in so friendly a sort, and with so little jealousy or -exclusion, that they seemed designed rather to lend a soft and -sheltered resting-place to the tired traveller than to check the -wayward excursions of the idle rambler into the merry fields and -woodlands through which it wound. On either side the tall, hoary trees, -like time-worn pillars, reared their grey, moss-grown trunks and -arching branches, now but thinly clothed with the discoloured foliage -of autumn, and casting their long shadows in the evening sun far over -the sloping and unequal sward. The scene, the hour, and the loneliness -of the place, would of themselves have been enough to induce a pensive -train of thought; but, beyond the silence and seclusion, and the -falling of the leaves in their eternal farewell, and all the other -touching signs of nature's beautiful decay, there were deep in -O'Connor's breast recollections and passions with which the scene -before him was more nearly associated, than with the ordinary -suggestions of fantastic melancholy. - -At some distance from this road, and half hidden among the trees, there -stood an old and extensive building, chiefly of deep red brick, -presenting many and varied fronts and quaint gables, antique-fashioned -casements, and whole groups of fantastic chimneys, sending up their -thin curl of smoke into the still air, and glinting tall and red in the -declining sun; while the dusky hue of the old bricks was every here and -there concealed under rich mantles of dark, luxuriant ivy, which, in -some parts of the structure, had not only mounted to the summits of the -wall, but clambered, in rich profusion, over the steep roof, and even -to the very chimney tops. This antique building--rambling, massive, and -picturesque in no ordinary degree--might well have attracted the -observation of the passer-by, as it presented in succession, through -the irregular vistas of the rich old timber, now one front, now -another, alternately hidden and revealed as the point of observation -was removed. But the eyes of O'Connor sought this ancient mansion, and -dwelt upon its ever-varying aspects, as he pursued his way, with an -interest more deep and absorbing than that of mere curiosity or -admiration; and as he slowly followed the grass-grown road, a thousand -emotions and remembrances came crowding upon his mind, impetuous, -passionate, and wild, but all tinged with a melancholy which even the -strong and sanguine heart of early manhood could not overcome. As the -path proceeded, it became more closely sheltered by the wild bushes and -trees, and its windings grew more wayward and frequent, when on a -sudden, from behind a screen of old thorns which lay a little in -advance, a noble dog, of the true old Irish wolf breed, came bounding -towards him, with every token of joy and welcome. - -"Rover, Rover--down, boy, down," said the stranger, as the huge animal, -in his boisterous greeting, leaped upon him again and again, flinging -his massive paws upon his shoulders, and thrusting his cold nose into -his bosom--"down, Rover, down." - -The first transport of welcome past, the noble dog waited to receive -from his old friend some marks of recognition in return, and then, -swinging his long tail from side to side, away he sprang, as if to -carry the joyful tidings to the companion of his evening ramble. - -O'Connor knew that some of those whom he should not have chosen to meet -just then or there were probably within a stone's throw of the spot -where he now stood, and for a moment he was strongly tempted to turn, -and, if so it might be, unobserved to retrace his steps. The close -screen of wild trees which overshadowed the road would have rendered -this design easy of achievement; but while he was upon the point of -turning to depart, a few notes of some wild and simple Irish melody, -carelessly lilted by a voice of silvery sweetness, floated to his ear. -Every cadence and vibration of _that_ voice was to him enchantment--he -could not choose but pause. The sweet sounds were interrupted by a -rustling among the withered leaves which strewed the ground. Again the -fine old dog made his appearance, dashing joyously along the path -towards him, and following in his wake, with slow and gentle steps, -came a light and graceful female form. On her shoulders rested a short -mantle of scarlet cloth; the hood was thrown partially backward, so as -to leave the rich dark ringlets to float freely in the light breeze of -evening; the faintest flush imaginable tinged the clear paleness of her -cheek, giving to her exquisitely beautiful features a lustre, whose -richness did not, however, subdue their habitual and tender melancholy. -The moment the full dark eyes of the girl encountered O'Connor, the -song died away upon her lips--the colour fled from her cheeks, and as -instantaneously the sudden paleness was succeeded by a blush of such -depth and brilliancy as threw far into shade even the brightest imagery -of poetic fancy. - -"Edmond!" she exclaimed, in a tone so faint and low as scarcely to -reach his ear, and which yet thrilled to his very heart. - -"Yes, Mary--it is, indeed, Edmond O'Connor," answered he, passionately -and mournfully--"come, after long years of separation, over many a mile -of sea and land--unlooked-for, and, mayhap, unwished-for--come once -more to see you, and, in seeing you, to be happy, were it but for a -moment--come to tell you that he loves you fondly, passionately as -ever--come to ask you, dear, dear Mary, if you, too, are unchanged?" - -As he thus spoke, standing by her side, O'Connor gazed on the sad, -sweet face of her he loved so well, and held that little hand, which he -would have given worlds to call his own. The beautiful girl was too -artless to disguise her agitation. She would have spoken, but the -effort was vain--the tears gathered in her dark eyes, and fell faster -and faster, till at length the fruitless struggle ceased, and she wept -long and bitterly. - -"Oh! Edmond," said she, at length, raising her eyes sorrowfully and -fondly to O'Connor's face--"what has called you hither? We two should -hardly have met now or thus." - -"Dear Mary," answered he, with melancholy fervour, "since last I held -this loved hand, years have passed away--three long years and more--in -which we two have never met--in which you scarce have even heard of me. -Mary, three years bring many changes--changes irreparable. Time--which -has, if it were possible, made you more beautiful even than when I saw -you last--may yet have altered earlier feelings, and turned your heart -from me. Were it so, Mary, I would not seek to blame you. I am not so -vain--your rank--your great attractions--your surpassing beauty, must -have won many admirers--drawn many suitors round you; and I--I, among -all these, may well have been forgotten--I, whose best merit is but in -loving you beyond my life. I will not, then--I will not, Mary, ask if -you love me still: but coming thus unbidden and unlooked-for, am I -forgiven--am I welcome, Mary?" - -The artless girl looked up in his face with such a beautiful smile of -trust and love as told more in one brief moment than language could in -volumes. - -"Yes, Mary," said O'Connor, reading that smile aright, with swelling -heart and proud devotion; "yes, Mary. I am remembered--you are still my -own--my own: true, faithful, unchanged, in spite of years of time and -leagues of separation; in spite of all!--my true-hearted, my adored, my -own!" - -He spoke; and in the fulness of their hearts they were both for a while -silent, each gazing on the other in the rapt tenderness of long-tried -love--in the deep, guileless joy of this chance meeting. - -"Hear me," he whispered, lower almost than the murmur of the breeze -through the arching boughs above them, as if fearful that even a breath -would trouble the still enchantment that held them spell-bound: "hear -me, for I have much to tell. The years that have passed since I spoke -to you before have brought to me their store of good and ill, of sorrow -and of hope. I have many things to tell you, Mary; much that gives me -hope--the cheeriest hope--even that of overcoming Sir Richard's -opposition! Ay, Mary, reasonable hope; and why? Because I am no longer -poor: an old friend of my father's, Mr. Audley, has taken me by the -hand, adopted me, made me his heir--the heir to riches and possessions -which even your father will allow to be considerable--which he well may -think enough to engage his prudence in favour of our union. In this -hope, dearest, I am here. I daily expect the arrival of my generous -friend and benefactor; and with him I will go to your father and urge -my suit once more, and with God's blessing at last prevail--but hark! -some one comes." - -Even while he spoke, the lovers were startled by the sound of voices in -gay colloquy, approaching along the quiet by-road on which they stood. - -"Leave me, Edmond, leave me," said the beautiful girl, with earnest -entreaty; "they must not see you with me now." - -"Farewell then, dearest, since it must be so," replied O'Connor, as he -pressed her hand closely in his own; "but meet me to-morrow -evening--meet me by the old gate in the beech-tree walk, at the hour -when you used to walk there. Nay, refuse me not, Mary. Farewell, -farewell till then!" and so saying, before she had time to frame an -answer, he turned from her, and was quickly lost among the trees and -underwood which skirted the pathway. - -In the speakers who approached, the young lady at once recognized her -brother, Henry Ashwoode, and Emily Copland, her pretty cousin. The -young man was handsome alike in face and figure, slightly made, and -bearing in his carriage that indescribable air of aristocratic birth -and pretension which sits not ungracefully upon a handsome person; his -countenance, too, bore a striking resemblance to that of his sister, -and, allowing for the difference of sex, resembled it as nearly as any -countenance which had never expressed a passion but such as had its aim -and origin alike in _self_, could do. He was dressed in the extreme of -the prevailing fashion; and altogether his outward man was in all -respects such as to justify his acknowledged pretensions to be -considered one of the prettiest men in the then gay city of Dublin. The -young lady who accompanied him was, in all points except in that of -years, as unlike her cousin, Mary Ashwoode, as one pretty girl could -well be to another. She was very fair; had a quick, clear eye, which -carried in its glance something more than mere mirth or vivacity; an -animated face, with, however, something of a bold, and at times even of -a haughty expression. Laughing and chatting in light, careless gaiety, -the youthful pair approached the spot where Mary Ashwoode stood. - -"So, so, fair sister," cried the young man, gaily, "alone and musing, -and doubtless melancholy. Shall we venture to approach her, Emily?" - -Women have keener eyes in small matters than men; and Miss Copland at a -glance perceived her fair cousin's flushed cheek and embarrassed -manner. - -"Angels and ministers of grace defend us!" cried she; "the girl has -certainly seen a ghost or a dragoon officer." - -"Neither, I assure you, cousin," replied Miss Ashwoode, with an effort; -"my evening's ramble has not extended beyond this spot; and as yet I've -seen no monster more alarming than my brother's new periwig." - -The young man bowed. - -"Nay, nay," cried Miss Copland, "but I must hear it. There certainly is -some awful mystery at the bottom of all these conscious looks; but -_apropos_ of awful mysteries," continued she, turning to young -Ashwoode, half in pity for Mary's increasing embarrassment; "where _is_ -Major O'Leary? What has become of your amusing old uncle?" - -"That's more than _I_ can tell," replied the young man; "I wash my -hands of the scapegrace. I know nothing of him. I saw him for a moment -in town this morning, and he promised, with a round dozen of oaths, to -be out to dine with us to-day. Thus much _you_ know, and thus much _I_ -know; for the rest, having sins enough of my own to carry, as I said -before, I wash my hands of him and his." - -"Well, now remember, Henry," continued she, "I make it a point with you -to bring him out here to-morrow. In sober seriousness I can't get on -without him. It is a melancholy and a terrible truth, but still one -which I feel it my duty to speak boldly, that Major O'Leary is the only -gallant and susceptible man in the family." - -"Monstrous assertion?" exclaimed the young man; "why, not to mention -myself, the acknowledged pink and perfection of everything that is -irresistible, have you not the perfect command of my worthy cousin, -Arthur Blake?" - -"Now don't put me in a passion, Henry," exclaimed the girl. "How dare -you mention that wretch--that irreclaimable, unredeemed fox-hunter. He -never talks, nor thinks, nor dreams of anything but dogs and badgers, -foxes and other vermin. I verily believe he never yet was seen off a -horse's back, except sometimes in a stable--he is an absolute Irish -centaur! And then his odious attempts at finery--his elaborate, -perverse vulgarity--the perpetual pinching and mincing of his words! An -off-hand, shameless brogue I can endure--a brogue that revels and -riots, and defies the world like your uncle O'Leary's, I can respect -and even admire--but a brogue in a strait waistcoat----" - -"Well, well," rejoined the young man, laughing, "though you may not -find any sprout of the _family_ tree, excepting Major O'Leary, worthy -to contribute to your laudable requirements; yet surely you have a very -fair catalogue of young and able-bodied gentlemen among our neighbours. -What say you to young Lloyd--he lives within a stone's throw. He is a -most proper, pious, and punctual young gentleman; and would make, I -doubt not, a most devout and exemplary _'Cavalier servente_.'" - -"Worse and worse," cried the young lady despondingly; "the most -domestic, stupid, affectionate, invulnerable wretch. He never flirts -out of his own family, and then, for charity I believe, with the oldest -and ugliest. He is the very person for whose special case the rubric -provided that no man shall marry his grandmother." - -"My fair cousin," replied the young man, laughing, "I see you are hard -to please. Meanwhile, sweet ladies both, let me remind you that the sun -has just set; we must make our way homeward--at least _I_ must. By the -way, can I do anything in town for you this evening, beyond a tender -message to my reverend uncle?" - -"Dear me," exclaimed Miss Copland, "you have not passed an evening at -home this age. What _can_ you want, morning, noon, and night in that -smoky, dirty town?" - -"Why, the fact is," replied the young man, "business must be done; I -positively must attend two routs to-night." - -"Whose routs--what are they?" inquired the young lady. - -"One is Mrs. Tresham's, the other Lady Stukely's." - -"I _guessed_ that ugly old kinswoman of mine was at the bottom of it," -exclaimed the young lady with great vivacity. "Lady Stukely--that -pompous, old, frightful goose!--she has laid herself out to seduce you, -Harry; but don't let that dismay you, for ten to one if you fall, -she'll make an honest man of you in the end and marry you. Only think, -Mary, what a sister you shall have," and the young lady laughed -heartily, and then added, "There are some excellent, worthy, abominable -people, who seem made expressly to put one in a passion--perpetual -appeals to one's virtuous indignation. Now do, Henry, for goodness -sake, if a matrimonial catastrophe must come, choose at least some -nymph with less rouge and wrinkles than poor dear Lady Stukely." - -"Kind cousin, thyself shalt choose for me," answered the young man; -"but pray, suffer me to be at large for a year or two more. I would -fain live and breathe a little, before I go down into the matrimonial -pit and be no more seen. But let us mend our pace, the evening turns -chill." - -Thus chatting carelessly, they moved towards the large brick building -which we have already described, embowered among the trees; where -arrived, the young man forthwith applied himself to prepare for a night -of dissipation, and the young ladies to get through a dull evening as -best they might. - -The two fair cousins sate in a large, old-fashioned drawing-room; the -walls were covered with elaborately-wrought tapestry representing, in a -manner sufficiently grim and alarming, certain scenes from Ovid's -Metamorphoses; a cheerful fire blazed in the capacious hearth; and the -cumbrous mantelpiece was covered with those grotesque and monstrous -china figures, misnamed ornaments, which were then beginning to find -favour in the eyes of fashion. Abundance of richly carved furniture was -disposed variously throughout the room. The young ladies sate by a -small table on which lay some books and materials for work, placed near -the fire. They occupied each one of those huge, high-backed, and -well-stuffed chairs in which it is a mystery how our ancestors could -sit and remain awake. Both were silently occupied with their own busy -reflections; and it was not until the rapid clank of the horse's hoofs -upon the pavement underneath the windows, as young Ashwoode started -upon his night ride to the city, rose sharp and clear, that Miss -Copland, waking from her reverie, exclaimed,-- - -"Well, sweet coz, were ever so woebegone and desolate a pair of -damsels. The only available male creature in the establishment, with -the exception of Sir Richard, who has actually gone to bed, has fairly -turned his back upon us." - -"Dear Emily," replied her cousin, "pray be serious. I wish to tell you -what has passed this evening. You observed my confusion and agitation -when you and Henry overtook me." - -"Why, to be sure I did," replied the young lady; "and now, like an -honest coz, you are going to tell me all about it." She drew her chair -nearer as she spoke. "Come, my dear, tell me everything--what was your -discovery? Come, now, there's a good girl, do confess." So saying she -threw one arm round her cousin's neck and laid the other in her lap, -looking curiously into her face the while. - -"Oh! Emily, I have seen him!" exclaimed Miss Ashwoode, with an effort. - -"Seen _him_!--seen whom?--old Nick, if I may judge from your looks. -Whom _have_ you seen, dear?" eagerly inquired Miss Copland. - -"I have seen Edmond O'Connor," answered she. - -"Edmond O'Connor!" repeated the girl in unfeigned surprise, "why, I -thought he was in France, eating frogs and dancing cotillons. What has -brought him here?--why, he'll be taken for a spy and executed on the -spot. But seriously, can you conceive anything more rash and ill-judged -than his coming over just now?" - -"It is indeed, I greatly fear, very rash," replied the young lady; "he -is resolved to speak with my father once more." - -"And your father in such a precious ill-humour just at this precise -moment," exclaimed Miss Copland. "I never _was_ so much afraid of Sir -Richard as I have been for the last two days; he has been a perfect -bruin--begging your pardon, my dear girl--but even _you_ must admit, -let filial piety and all the cardinal virtues say what they will, that -whenever Sir Richard is recovering from a fit of the gout he is nothing -short of a perfect monster. I wager my diamond cross to a thimble, that -he breaks the poor young man's head the moment he comes within reach of -him. But jesting apart, I fear, my dear cousin, that my uncle is in no -mood just now to listen to heroics." - -A sharp knocking upon the floor immediately above the chamber in which -the young ladies sate, interrupted the conference at this juncture. - -"There is my father's signal--he wants me," exclaimed Miss Ashwoode, -and rising as she spoke, without more ado she ran to render the -required attendance. - -"Strange girl," exclaimed Miss Copland, as her cousin's step was heard -ascending the stairs, "strange girl!--she is the veriest simpleton I -ever yet encountered. All this fuss to marry a fellow who is, in plain -words, little better than a beggarman--a good-looking beggarman, to be -sure, but still a beggar. Oh, Mary, simple Mary! I am very much tempted -to despise you--there is certainly something _wrong_ about you! I hate -to see people without ambition enough even to wish to keep their own -natural position. The girl is full of nonsense; but what's that to me? -she'll _un_learn it all one day; but I'm much afraid, simple cousin, a -little too late." - -Having thus soliloquized, she called her maid, and retired for the -night to her chamber. - - - - -CHAPTER V. - -OF O'CONNOR'S MOONLIGHT WALK TO THE "COCK AND ANCHOR," AND WHAT BEFELL -HIM BY THE WAY. - - -As soon as O'Connor had made some little way from the scene of his -sudden and agitating interview with Miss Ashwoode, he slackened his -pace, and with slow steps began to retrace his way toward the city. So -listless and interrupted was his progress, that the sun had descended, -and twilight was fast melting into darkness before he reached that -point in the road at which diverged the sequestered path which he had -followed. As he approached the spot, he observed a small man, with a -pipe in his mouth, and his person arranged in an attitude of ease and -graceful negligence, admirably calculated to exhibit the symmetry and -perfection of his bodily proportions. This man had planted himself in -the middle of the road, so as completely to command the pass, and, as -our reader need scarcely be informed, was no other than Larry -Toole--the important personage to whom we have already introduced him. - -As O'Connor approached, Larry advanced, with a slow and dignified -motion, to receive him: and removing his pipe from his mouth with a -_nonchalant_ air, he compressed the lighted contents of the bowl with -his finger, and then deposited the utensil in his coat pocket, at the -same time, executing, in a very becoming manner, his most courtly bow. -Somewhat surprised, and by no means pleasantly, at an interruption of -so unlooked-for a kind, O'Connor observed, impatiently, "I have neither -time nor temper, friend, to suffer delay or listen to foolery;" and -observing that Larry was preparing to follow him, he added curtly, "I -desire no company, sirrah, and choose to be alone." - -"An' it's exactly because you wish to be alone, and likes solitude," -observed the little man, "that you and me will shoot, being formed by -the bountiful hand iv nature, barrin' a few small exceptions,"--here he -glanced complacently at his right leg, which was a little in advance of -its companion--"as similiar as two eggs." - -Being in no mood to tolerate, far less to encourage this annoying -intrusion, O'Connor pursued his way at a quickened pace, and in -obstinate silence, and in a little time exhibited a total and very -mortifying forgetfulness of Mr. Toole's bodily proximity. That -gentleman, however, was not so easily to be shaken off--he -perseveringly followed, keeping a pace or two behind. - -"It's parfectly unconthrovertible," pursued that worthy, with -considerable solemnity and emphasis, "and at laste as plain as the nose -on your face, that you haven't the smallest taste of a conciption who -it is you're spakin' too, Mr. O'Connor." - -"And pray who may you be, friend?" inquired he, somewhat surprised at -being thus addressed by name. - -"Who else would I be, your honour," rejoined the persevering -applicant--"who else _could_ I be, if you had but a glimmer iv light to -contemplate my forrum and fatures, but Laurence Toole--called by the -men for the most part _Misthur_ Toole, and (he added in a softened -tone) by the girls most commonly designated Larry." - -"Ha--Larry--Larry Toole!" exclaimed O'Connor, half reconciled to an -intrusion up to that moment so ill endured. "Well, Larry, tell me -briefly how are the family at the manor, yonder?" - -"Why, plase your honour," rejoined Larry, promptly, "the ould masthur, -that's Sir Richard, is much oftener gouty than good-humoured, and -more's the pity. I b'lieve he's breaking down very fast, and small -blame to him, for he lived hard, like a rale honourable gentleman. An' -then, the young masthur, that's Masthur Henry--but you didn't know him -so well--he's getting on at the divil's rate--scatt'ring guineas like -small shot. They say he plays away a power of money; and he and the -masthur himself has often hard words enough between them about the way -things is goin' on; but he ates and dhrinks well, an' the health he -gets is as good as he wants for his purposes." - -"Well--but your young mistress," suggested O'Connor--"you have not told -me yet how Miss Ashwoode has been ever since. How have her health and -spirits been--has she been well?" - -"Mixed middlin', like belly bacon," replied Mr. Toole, with an air of -profound sympathy--"shilly-shally, sir--off an' on, like an April -day--sometimes atin' her victuals, sometimes lavin' them--no sartainty. -I think the ould masthur's gout and crossness, and the young one's -vagaries, is frettin' her; and it's sorry I am to see it. An' there's -Miss Emily--that's Miss Copland--a rale jovial slip iv a young lady. I -think you've seen her once or twice up at the manor; but now, since her -father, the ould General, died, she is stayin' for good with the -family. She's a fine lady, and" (drawing close to O'Connor, and -speaking with very significant emphasis) "she has ten thousand pounds -of her own--do you mind me, ten thousand--it's a good fortune--is not -it, sir?" - -He paused for a moment, and receiving no answer, which he interpreted -as a sign that the announcement was operating as it ought, he added -with a confidential wink-- - -"I thought I might as well put you up to it, you know, for no one knows -where a blessin' may light." - -"Larry," said O'Connor, after a considerable silence, somewhat abruptly -and suddenly recollecting the presence of that little person--"if you -have aught to say to me, speak it quickly. What may your business be?" - -"Why, sir," replied he, "the long and short of it is, I left Sir -Richard more than a week since. Not that I was turned away--no, Mr. -O'Connor," continued Mr. Toole, with edifying majesty, "no sich thing -at all in the wide world. My resignation, sir, was the fruit of my own -solemn convictions--for the five years I was with the family, I had no -comfort, or aise, or pace. I may as well spake plain to you, sir, for -_you_, like myself, is young"--Mr. Toole was certainly at the wrong -side of fifty--"you can aisily understand me, sir, when I say that I'm -the victim iv romance, bad cess to it--romance, sir; my buzzam, sir, -was always open to tindher impressions--impressions, sir, that came -into it as natural as pigs into a pittaty garden. I could not shut them -out--the short and the long iv it is, I was always fallin' in love, -since I was the size iv a quart pot--eternally fallin' in love." Mr. -Toole sighed, and then resumed. "I done my best to smother my emotions, -but passion, sir, young and ardent passion, is impossible to be -suppressed: you might as well be trying to keep strong beer in starred -bottles durin' the pariod iv the dog days. But I never knew rightly -what love was all out, in rale, terrible perfection, antil Mistress -Betsy came to live in the family. I'll not attempt to describe -her--it's enough to say she fixed my affections, and done for myself. -She is own maid to the young mistress. I need not expectorate upon the -progress iv my courtship--it's quite enough to observe, that for a -considherable time my path was strewed with flowers, antil a young -chap--an English bliggard, one Peter Clout--an' it's many's the clout -he got, the Lord be thanked for that same!--a lump iv a chap ten times -as ugly as the divil, and without more shapes about him than a pound of -cruds--an impittant, ignorant, presumptious, bothered, bosthoon--antil -this gentleman--this Misthur Peter Clout, made his b----y appearance; -then all at once the divil's delight began. Betsy--the lovely Betsy -Carey--the lovely, the vartious, the beautiful, and the exalted--began -to play thricks. I know she was in love with me--over head and ears, as -bad as myself--but woman is a mystarious agent, an' bangs Banagher. -Long as I've been larnin', I never could larn why it is they take -delight in tormentin' the tindher-hearted." - -This reflection was uttered in a tone of tender woe, and the speaker -paused for some symptom of assent from his auditor. It is, however, -hardly necessary to say that he paused in vain. O'Connor had enough to -occupy his mind; and so far from listening to his companion's -narrative, he was scarcely conscious that Mr. Toole, in bodily -presence, was walking beside him. That "tindher-hearted" individual -accordingly resumed the thread of his discourse. - -"But, at any rate, she laid herself out to make me jealous of Peter -Clout; and, with the blessin' iv the divil, she succeeded complately. -Things were going on this way--she lettin' on to be mighty fond iv -Peter, an' me gettin' angrier an' angrier, and Mr. Clout more an' more -impittent every day, antill I seen there was no use in purtendin'; so -one mornin' when we were both of us--myself and Mr. Peter -Clout--clainin' up the things in the pantry, I thought I might as well -have a bit iv discourse with him--when I seen, do ye mind, there was no -use in mortifyin' the chap with contempt, for I did not spake to him, -good, bad, or indifferent, for more than a fortnight, an' he was so -ignorant and unmannerly he never noticed the differ. When I seen there -was no use in keepin' him at a distance, says I to him one day in the -panthry--'Mr. Clout,' says I, 'your conduct in regard iv some persons -in this house,' says I, 'is iv a description that may be shuitable to -the English spalpeens,' says I, 'but is about as like the conduct of a -gintleman,' says I, 'as blackin' is to plate powder.' So he turns -round, an' he looks at me as if I was a Pollyphamius. 'Mind your work,' -says I, 'young man, an' don't be lookin' at me as if I was a hathian -godess,' says I. 'It's Mr. Toole that's speakin' to you, an' you -betther mind what he says. The long an' the short iv it is, I don't -like you to be hugger-muggering with a sartain delicate famale in this -establishment; an' if I catch you talkin' any more to Misthress Betsy -Carey, I give you fair notice, it's at your own apparel. Beware of -me--for as sure as you don't behave to my likin', you might as well be -in the one panthry with a hyania,' says I, an' it was thrue for me, an' -it was the same way with my father before me, an' all the Tooles up to -the time of Noah's ark. In pace I'm a turtle-dove all out; but once I'm -riz, I'm a rale tarin' vulture." - -Here Mr. Toole paused to call up a look, and after a grim shake of the -head, he resumed. - -"Things went on aisy enough for a day or two, antill I happened to walk -into the sarvants' hall, an' who should I see but Mr. Clout sittin' on -the same stool with Misthriss Betsy, an' his arm round her waist--so -when I see that, before any iv them could come between us, with the -fair madness I made one jump at him, an' we both had one another by the -windpipe before you'd have time to bless yourself. Well, round an' -round we went, rowlin' with our heads and backs agin the walls, an' -divil a spot of us but was black an' blue, antill we kem to the -chimney; an' sure enough when we did, down we rowled both together, -glory be to God! into the fire, an' upset a kittle iv wather on top iv -us; an' with that there was sich a screechin' among the women, an' -maybe a small taste from ourselves, that the masthur kem in, an' if he -didn't lay on us with his walkin' stick it's no matter; but, at any -rate, as soon as we recovered from the scaldin' an' the bruises. _I_ -retired, an' the English chap was turned away; an' that's the whole -story, an' I tuk my oath that I'll never go into sarvice in a _family_ -again. I can't make any hand of women--they're made for desthroyin' all -sorts iv pace iv mind--they're etarnally triflin' with the most sarious -and sacred emotions. I'll never sarve any but single gentlemen from -this out, if I was to be sacrificed for it--never a bit, by the hokey!" - -So saying, Mr. Toole, having, in the course of his harangue, reproduced -his pipe from his pocket, with a view to flourish it in emphatic -accompaniment with the cadences of his voice, smote the bowl of it upon -the edge of his cocked hat, which he held in his hand, with so much -passion, that the head of the pipe flew across the road, and was for -ever lost among the docks and nettles. One glance he deigned to the -stump which remained in his hand, and then, with an air of romantic -recklessness which laughs at all sacrifices, he flung it disdainfully -from him, clapped his cocked hat upon his head with a vehemence which -brought it nearly to the bridge of his nose, and, planting his hands in -his breeches pockets, he glanced at the stars with a scowl which, if -they take any note of things terrestrial, must have filled them with -alarm. - -Suddenly recollecting himself, Mr. Toole perceived that his intended -master, having walked on, had left him considerably behind; he -therefore put himself into an easy amble, which speedily brought him up -with the chase. - -"Mr. O'Connor, plase your honour," he exclaimed, "sure it's not -possible it's goin' to lave me behind you are, an' me so proud iv your -company; an', moreover, after axin' you for a situation--that is, -always supposin' you want the sarvices iv a rale dashin' young fellow, -that's up to everything, an' willing to sarve you in any incapacity. -An' by gorra, sir," continued he, pathetically, "it's next door to a -charity to take me, for I've but one crown in the wide world left, an' -I must change it to-night; an' once I change money, the shillin's makes -off with themselves like a hat full of sparrows into the elements, the -Lord knows where." - -With a desolate recklessness, he chucked the crown-piece into the air, -caught it in his palm, and walked silently on. - -"Well, well," said O'Connor, "if you choose to make so uncertain an -engagement as for the term of my stay in Dublin, you are welcome to be -my servant for so long." - -"It's a bargain," shouted Mr. Toole--"a bargain, plase your honour, -done and done on both sides. I'm your man--hurra!" - -They had already entered the suburbs, and before many minutes were -involved in the dark and narrow streets, threading their way, as best -they might, toward the genial harbourage of the "Cock and Anchor." - - - - -CHAPTER VI. - -THE SOLDIER--THE NIGHT RAMBLE--AND THE WINDOW THAT LET IN MORE THAN THE -MOONLIGHT. - - -Short as had been O'Connor's sojourn, it nevertheless had been -sufficiently long to satisfy mine host of the "Cock and Anchor," an -acute observer in such particulars, that whatever his object might have -been in avoiding the more fashionably frequented inns of the city, -economy at least had no share in his motive. O'Connor, therefore, had -hardly entered the public room of the inn, when a servant respectfully -informed him that a private chamber was prepared for his reception, if -he desired to occupy it. The proposition suited well with his temper at -the minute, and with all alacrity he followed the waiter, who bowed him -upstairs and through a dingy passage into a room whose claims, if not -to elegance, at least to comfort, could hardly have been equalled, -certainly not excelled, by the more luxurious pretensions of most -modern hotels. - -It was a large, capacious chamber, nearly square, wainscoted with dark -shining wood, and decorated with certain dingy old pictures, which -might have been, for anything to the contrary, appearing in so -uncertain a light, _chefs d'oeuvre_ of the mighty masters of the olden -time: at all events, they looked as warm and comfortable as if they -were. The hearth was broad, deep, and high enough to stable a Kerry -pony, and was surmounted by a massive stone mantelpiece, rudely but -richly carved--abundance of old furniture--tables, at which the saintly -Cromwell might have smoked and boozed, and chairs old enough to have -supported Sir Walter Raleigh himself, were disposed about the room with -a profuseness which argued no niggard hospitality. A pair of wax-lights -burned cheerily upon a table beside the bright crackling fire which -blazed in the huge cavity of the hearth; and O'Connor threw himself -into one of those cumbrons, tall-backed, and well-stuffed chairs, which -are in themselves more potent invitations to the sweet illusive -visitings from the world of fancy and of dreams than all the drugs or -weeds of eastern climes. Thus suffering all his material nature to rest -in absolute repose, he loosed at once the reins of imagination and -memory, and yielded up his mind luxuriously to their mingled realities -and illusions. - -He may have been, perhaps, for two or three hours employed thus -listlessly in chewing the cud of sweet and bitter fancy, when his -meditations were interrupted by a brisk step upon the passage leading -to the apartment in which he sate, instantly succeeded by as brisk a -knocking at the chamber door itself. - -"Is this Mr. O'Connor's chamber?" inquired a voice of peculiar -richness, intonated not unpleasingly with a certain melodious -modification of the brogue, bespeaking a sort of passionate -_devil-may-carishness_ which they say in the good old times wrought -grievous havoc among womankind. The summons was promptly answered by an -invitation to enter; and forthwith the door opened, and a comely man -stepped into the room. The stranger might have seen some fifty or sixty -summers, or even more; for his was one of those joyous, good-humoured, -rubicund visages, upon which time vainly tries to write a wrinkle. His -frame was robust and upright, his stature tall, and there was in his -carriage something not exactly a swagger (for with all his oddities, -the stranger was evidently a gentleman), but a certain rollicking -carelessness, which irresistibly conveyed the character of a reckless, -head-long good-humour and daring, to which nothing could come amiss. In -the hale and jolly features, which many would have pronounced handsome, -were written, in characters which none could mistake, the prevailing -qualities of the man--a gay and sparkling eye, in which lived the very -soul of convivial jollity, harmonized right pleasantly with a smile, no -less of archness than _bonhomie_, and in the brow there was a certain -indescribable cock, which looked half pugnacious and half comic. On the -whole, the stranger, to judge by his outward man, was precisely the -person to take his share in a spree, be the same in joke or earnest--to -tell a good story--finish a good bottle--share his last guinea with -you--or blow your brains out, as the occasion might require. He was -arrayed in a full suit of regimentals, and taken for all in all, one -need hardly have desired a better sample of the dashing, light-hearted, -daredevil Irish soldier of more than a century since. - -"Ah! Major O'Leary," cried O'Connor, starting from his seat, and -grasping the soldier's hand, "I am truly glad to see you; you are the -very man of all others I most require at this moment. I was just about -to have a fit of the blue devils." - -"Blue devils!" exclaimed the major; "don't talk to a youngster like me -of any such infernal beings; but tell me how you are, every inch of -you, and what brings you here?" - -"I never was better; and as to my business," replied O'Connor, "it is -too long and too dull a story to tell you just now; but in the -meantime, let us have a glass of Burgundy; mine host of the 'Cock and -Anchor' boasts a very peculiar cellar." So saying, O'Connor proceeded -to issue the requisite order. - -"That does he, by my soul!" replied the major, with alacrity; "and for -that express reason I invariably make it a point to renew my friendly -intimacy with its contents whenever I visit the metropolis. But I can't -stay more than five minutes, so proceed to operations with all -dispatch." - -"And why all this hurry?" inquired O'Connor. "Where need you go at this -hour?" - -"Faith, I don't precisely know myself," rejoined the soldier; "but I've -a strong impression that my evil genius has contrived a scheme to -inveigle me into a cock-pit not a hundred miles away." - -"I'm sorry for it, with all my heart, Major," replied O'Connor, "since -it robs me of your company." - -"Nay, you must positively come along with me," resumed the major; "I -sip my Burgundy on these express conditions. Don't leave me at these -years without a mentor. I rely upon your prudence and experience; if -you turn me loose upon the town to-night, without a moral guide, upon -my conscience, you have a great deal to answer for. I may be fleeced in -a hell, or milled in a row; and if I fall in with female society, by -the powers of celibacy! I can't answer for the consequences." - -"Sooth to say, Major," rejoined O'Connor, "I'm in no mood for mirth." - -"Come, come! never look so glum," insisted his visitor. "Remember I -have arrived at years of _in_discretion, and must be looked after. -Man's life, my dear fellow, naturally divides itself into three great -stages; the first is that in which the youthful disciple is carefully -instructing his mind, and preparing his moral faculties, in silence, -for all sorts of villainy--this is the season of youth and innocence; -the second is that in which he _practises_ all kinds of rascality--and -this is the flower of manhood, or the prime of life; the third and last -is that in which he strives to make his soul--and this is the period of -dotage. Now, you see, my dear O'Connor, I have unfortunately arrived at -the prime of life, while you are still in the enjoyment of youth and -innocence; I am practising what you are plotting. You are, -unfortunately for yourself, a degree more sober than I; you can -therefore take care that I sin with due discretion--permit me to rob or -murder, without being robbed or murdered in return." - -Here the major filled and quaffed another glass, and then continued,-- - -"In short, I am--to speak in all solemnity and sobriety--so drunk, that -it's a miracle how I mounted these rascally stairs without breaking my -neck. I have no distinct recollection of the passage, except that I -kissed some old hunks instead of the chamber-maid, and pulled his nose -in revenge. I solemnly declare I can neither walk nor think without -assistance; my heels and head are inclined to change places, and I -can't tell the moment the body politic may be capsized. I have no -respect in the world for my intellectual or physical endowments at this -particular crisis; my sight is so infernally acute that I see all -surrounding objects considerably augmented in number; my legs have -asserted their independence, and perform 'Sir Roger de Coverley,' -altogether unsolicited; and my memory and other small mental faculties -have retired for the night. Under those melancholy circumstances, my -dear fellow, you surely won't refuse me the consolation of your -guidance." - -"Had not you better, my dear Major," said O'Connor, "remain with me -quietly here for the night, out of the reach of sharks and sharpers, -male and female? You shall have claret or Burgundy, which you -please--enough to fill a skin!" - -"I can't hold more than a bottle additional," replied the major, -regretfully, "if I can even do that; so you see I'm bereft of domestic -resources, and must look abroad for occupation. The fact is, I expect -to meet one or two fellows whom I want to see, at the place I've named; -so if you can come along with me, and keep me from falling into the -gutters, or any other indiscretion by the way, upon my conscience, you -will confer a serious obligation on me." - -O'Connor plainly perceived that although the major's statement had been -somewhat overcharged, yet that his admissions were not altogether -fanciful; there were in the gallant gentleman's face certain symptoms -of recent conviviality which were not to be mistaken--a perceptible -roll of the eye, and a slight screwing of the lips, which -peculiarities, along with the faintest possible approximation to a -hiccough, and a gentle see-saw vibration of his stalwart person, were -indications highly corroborative of the general veracity of his -confessions. Seeing that, in good earnest, the major was not precisely -in a condition to be trusted with the management of anything pertaining -to himself or others, O'Connor at once resolved to see him, if -possible, safely through his excursion, if after the discussion of the -wine which was now before them, he should persevere in his fancy for a -night ramble. They therefore sate down together in harmonious -fellowship, to discuss the flasks which stood upon the board. - -O'Connor was about to fill his guest's glass for the tenth or twelfth -time, when the major suddenly ejaculated,-- - -"Halt! ground arms! I can no more. Why, you hardened young reprobate, -it's not to make me drunk you're trying? I must keep senses enough to -behave like a Christian at the cock-fight; and, upon my soul! I've very -little rationality to spare at this minute. Put on your hat, and come -without delay, before I'm fairly extinguished." - -O'Connor accordingly donned his hat and cloak, and yielding the major -the double support of his arm on the one side, and of the banisters on -the other, he conducted him safely down the stairs, and with wonderful -steadiness, all things considered, they entered the street, whence, -under the major's direction, they pursued their way. After a silence of -a few minutes, that military functionary exclaimed, with much -gravity,-- - -"I'm a great social philosopher, a great observer, and one who looks -quite through the deeds of men. My dear boy, believe me, this country -is in the process of a great moral reformation; hospitality--which I -take to be the first, and the last, and the only one of all the virtues -of a bishop which is fit for the practice of a gentleman--hospitality, -my dear O'Connor, is rapidly approaching to a climax in this country. I -remember, when I was a little boy, a gentleman might pay a visit of a -week or so to another in the country, and be all the time nothing more -than tipsy--_tipsy_ merely. However, matters gradually improved, and -that stage which philosophers technically term simple drunkenness, -became the standard of hospitality. This passed away, and the sense of -the country, in its silent but irresistible operation, has substituted -_blind_ drunkenness; and in the prophetic spirit of sublime philosophy, -I foresee the arrival of that time when no man can escape the fangs of -hospitality upon any conditions short of brain fever or delirium -tremens." - -As the major delivered this philosophic discourse, he led O'Connor -through several obscure streets and narrow lanes, till at length he -paused in one of the very narrowest and darkest before a dingy brick -house, whose lower windows were secured with heavy bars of iron. The -door, which was so incrusted with dirt and dust that the original paint -was hardly anywhere discernible, stood ajar, and within burned a feeble -and ominous light, so faint and murky, that it seemed fearful of -disclosing the deeds and forms which itself was forced to behold. Into -this dim and suspicious-looking place the major walked, closely -followed by O'Connor. In the hall he was encountered by a huge -savage-looking fellow, who raised his squalid form lazily from a bench -which rested against the wall at the further end, and in a low, gruff -voice, like the incipient growl of a roused watch-dog, inquired what -they wanted there. - -"Why, Mr. Creigan, don't you know Major O'Leary?" inquired that -gentleman. "I and a friend have business here." - -The man muttered something in the way of apology, and opening the dingy -lantern in which burned the wretched tallow candle which half lighted -the place, he snuffed it with his finger and thumb, and while so doing, -desired the major to proceed. Accordingly, with the precision of one -who was familiar with every turn of the place, the gallant officer led -O'Connor through several rooms, lighted in the same dim and shabby way, -into a corridor leading directly to the rearward of the house, and -connecting it with some other detached building. As they threaded this -long passage, the major turned towards O'Connor, who followed him, and -whispered,-- - -"Did you mark that ill-looking fellow in the hall? Poor Creigan!--a -gentleman!--would you think it?--a _gentleman_ by birth, and with a -snug property, too--four hundred good pounds a year, and more--all -gone, like last year's snow, chiefly here in backing mains of his own! -poor dog! I remember him one of the best dressed men on town, and now -he's fain to pick up a few shillings by the week in the place where he -lost his thousands; this is the state of man!" - -As he spoke thus, they had reached the end of the passage. The major -opened the door which terminated the corridor, and thus displayed a -scene which, though commonplace enough in its ingredients, was, -nevertheless, in its _coup d'oeil_, sufficiently striking. In the -centre of a capacious and ill-finished chamber stood a circular -platform, with a high ledge running round it. This arena, some fourteen -feet in diameter, was surrounded by circular benches, which rose one -outside the other, in parallel tiers, to the wall. Upon these seats -were crowded some hundreds of men--a strange mixture; gentlemen of -birth and honour sate side by side with notorious swindlers; noblemen -with coalheavers; simpletons with sharks; the unkempt, greasy locks of -squalid destitution mingled in the curls of the patrician periwig; -aristocratic lace and embroidery were rubbed by the dusty shoulders of -draymen and potboys;--all these gross and glaring contrarieties -reconciled and bound together by one hellish sympathy. All sate locked -in breathless suspense, every countenance fixed in the hard lines of -intense, excited anxiety and vigilance; all leaned forward to gaze upon -the combat whose crisis was on the point of being determined. Those who -occupied the back seats had started up, and pressing forward, almost -crushed those in front of them to death. Every aperture in this living -pile was occupied by some eager, haggard, or ruffian face; and, spite -of all the pushing, and crowding, and bustling, all were silent, as if -the powers of voice and utterance were unknown among them. - -The effect of this scene, so suddenly presented--the crowd of -ill-looking and anxious faces, the startling glare of light, and the -unexpected rush of hot air from the place--all so confounded him, that -O'Connor did not for some moments direct his attention to the object -upon which the gaze of the fascinated multitude was concentrated; when -he did so he beheld a spectacle, abstractedly, very disproportioned in -interest to the passionate anxiety of which it was the subject. Two -game cocks, duly trimmed, and having the long and formidable steel -weapons with which the humane ingenuity of "the fancy" supplies the -natural spur of the poor biped, occupied the centre of the circular -stage which we have described; one of the birds lay upon his back, -beneath the other, which had actually sent his spurs through and -through his opponent's neck. In this posture the wounded animal lay, -with his beak open, and the blood trickling copiously through it upon -the board. The victorious bird crowed loud and clear, and a buzz began -to spread through the spectators, as if the battle were already -determined, and suspense at an end. The "law" had just expired, and the -gentlemen whose business it was to _handle_ the birds were preparing to -withdraw them. - -"Twenty to one on the grey cock," exclaimed a large, ill-looking -fellow, who sat close to the pit, clutching his arms in his brawny -hands, as if actually hugging himself with glee, while he gazed with an -exulting grin upon the combat, whose issue seemed now beyond the reach -of chance. The challenge was, of course, unaccepted. - -"Fifty to one!" exclaimed the same person, still more ecstatically. -"One hundred to one--_two_ hundred to one!" - -"I'll give you one guinea to two hundred," exclaimed perhaps the -coolest gambler in that select assembly, young Henry Ashwoode, who sat -also near the front. - -"Done, Mr. Ashwoode--done with _you_; it's a bet, sir," said the same -ill-looking fellow. - -"Done, sir," replied Ashwoode. - - [Illustration: "Again the conqueror crowed the shrill note of - victory." - _To face page 34_.] - -Again the conqueror crowed the shrill note of victory, and all seemed -over, when, on a sudden, by one of those strange vicissitudes of which -the annals of the cock-pit afford so many examples, the dying bird--it -may be roused by the vaunting challenge of his antagonist--with one -convulsive spasm, struck both his spurs through and through the head of -his opponent, who dropped dead upon the table, while the wounded bird, -springing to his legs, flapped his wings, as if victory had never -hovered, and then as momentarily fell lifeless on the board, by this -last heroic feat winning a main on which many thousands of pounds -depended. A silence for a moment ensued, and then there followed the -loud exulting cheers of some, and the hoarse, bitter blasphemies of -others, clamorous expostulation, hoarse laughter, curses, congratulations, -and invectives--all mingled with the noise occasioned by those who came -in or went out, the shuffling and pounding of feet, in one torrentuous -and stunning volume of sound. - -Young Ashwoode having secured and settled all his bets, shouldered his -way through the crowd, and with some difficulty, reached the door at -which Major O'Leary and O'Connor were standing. - -"How do you do, uncle? Were you in the room when I took the two hundred -to one?" inquired the young man. - -"By my conscience, I was, Hal, and wish you joy with all my heart. It -was a sporting bet on both sides, and as game a fight as the world ever -saw." - -"I must be off," continued the young man. "I promised to look in at -Lady Stukely's to-night; but before I go, you must know they are all -affronted with you at the manor. The girls are positively outrageous, -and desired me to command your presence to-morrow on pain of -excommunication." - -"Give my tender regards to them both," replied the major, "and assure -them that I will be proud to obey them. But don't you know my friend -O'Connor," he added, in a lower tone, "you are old acquaintances, I -believe?" - -"Unless my memory deceives me, I have had the honour of meeting Mr. -O'Connor before," said the young man, with a cold bow, which was -returned by O'Connor with more than equal _hauteur_. "Recollect, uncle, -no excuses," added young Ashwoode, as he retreated from the -chamber--"you have promised to give to-morrow to the girls. Adieu." - -"There goes as finished a specimen of a mad-cap, rake-helly young devil -as ever carried the name of Ashwoode or the blood of the O'Leary's," -observed the uncle; "but come, we must look to the sport." - -So saying, the major, exerting his formidable strength, and -accompanying his turbulent progress with a large distribution of -apologetic and complimentary speeches of the most high-flown kind, -shoved and jostled his way to a vacant place near the front of the -benches, and, seating himself there, began to give and take bets to a -large amount upon the next main. Tired of the noise, and nearly stifled -with the heat of the place, O'Connor, seeing that the major was -resolved to act independently of him, thought that he might as well -consult his own convenience as stay there to be stunned and suffocated -without any prospect of expediting the major's retreat; he therefore -turned about and retraced his steps through the passage which we have -mentioned. The grateful coolness of the air, and the lassitude induced -by the scene in which he had taken a part, though no very prominent -one, induced him to pause in the first room to which the passage, as we -have said, gave access; and happening to espy a bench in one of the -recesses of the windows, he threw himself upon it, thoroughly to -receive the visitings of the cool, hovering air. As he lay listless and -silently upon this rude couch, he was suddenly disturbed by a sound of -someone treading the yard beneath. A figure sprang across toward the -window; and almost instantaneously Larry Toole--for the moonlight -clearly revealed the features of the intruder--was presented at the -aperture, and with an energetic spring, accompanied by a no less -energetic, devotional ejaculation, that worthy vaulted into the -chamber, agitated, excited, and apparently at his wits' end. - - - - -CHAPTER VII. - -THREE GRIM FIGURES IN A LONELY LANE--TWO QUEER GUESTS RIDING TO TONY -BLIGH'S--THE WATCHER IN DANGER--AND THE HIGHWAYMEN. - - -A liberal and unsolicited attention to the affairs of other people, was -one among the many amiable peculiarities of Mr. Laurence Toole: he had -hardly, therefore, seen the major and O'Connor fairly beyond the -threshold of the "Cock and Anchor," when he donned his cocked hat and -followed their steps, allowing, however, an interval sufficiently long -to secure himself against detection. Larry Toole well knew the purposes -to which the squalid mansion which we have described was dedicated, and -having listened for a few moments at the door, to allow his master and -his companion time to reach the inner sanctuary of vice and brutality, -whither it was the will of Major O'Leary to lead his reluctant friend, -this faithful squire entered at the half-open door, and began to -traverse the passage which we have before mentioned. He was not, -however, permitted long to do so undisturbed. The grim sentinel of -these unhallowed regions on a sudden upreared his towering proportions, -heaving his huge shoulders with a very unpleasant appearance of -preparation for an effort, and with two or three formidable strides, -brought himself up with the presumptuous intruder. - -"What do _you_ want here--eh! you d----d scarecrow?" exclaimed the -porter, in a tone which made the very walls to vibrate. - -Larry was too much astounded to reply--he therefore remained mute and -motionless. - -"See, my good cove," observed the gaunt porter, in the same impressive -accents of admonition--"make yourself scarce, d'ye mind; and if you -want to see the pit, go round--we don't let potboys and pickpockets in -at this side--cut and run, or I'll have to give you a lift." - -Larry was no poltroon; but another glance at the colossal frame of the -porter quelled effectually whatever pugnacious movements might have -agitated his soul; and the little man, having deigned one look of -infinite contempt, which told his antagonist, as plainly as any look -could do, that he owed his personal safety solely and exclusively to -the sublime and unmerited pity of Mr. Laurence Toole, that dignified -individual turned on his heel, and withdrew somewhat precipitately -through the door which he had just entered. - -The porter grinned, rolled his quid luxuriously till it made the grand -tour of his mouth, shrugged his square shoulders, and burst into a -harsh chuckle. Such triumphs as the one he had just enjoyed, were the -only sweet drops which mingled in the bitter cup of his savage -existence. Meanwhile, our romantic friend, traversing one or two dark -lanes, made his way easily enough to the more public entrance of this -temple of fortune. The door which our friend Larry now approached lay -at the termination of a long and narrow lane, enclosed on each side -with dead walls of brick--at the far end towered the dark outline of -the building, and over the arched doorway burned a faint and dingy -light, without strength enough to illuminate even the bricks against -which it hung, and serving only in nights of extraordinary darkness as -a dim, solitary star, by which the adventurous night rambler might -shape his course. The moon, however, was now shining broad and clear -into the broken lane, revealing every inequality and pile of rubbish -upon its surface, and throwing one side of the enclosure into black, -impenetrable shadow. Without premeditation or choice, it happened that -our friend Larry was walking at the dark side of the lane, and shrouded -in the deep obscurity he advanced leisurely toward the doorway. As he -proceeded, his attention was arrested by a figure which presented -itself at the entrance of the building, accompanied by two others, as -it appeared, about to pass forth into the lane through which he himself -was moving. They were engaged in animated debate as they -approached--the conversation was conducted in low and earnest -tones--their gestures were passionate and sudden--their progress -interrupted by many halts--and the party evinced certain sinister -indications of uneasy vigilance and caution, which impressed our friend -with a dark suspicion of mischief, which was strengthened by his -recognition of two of the persons composing the little group. His -curiosity was irresistibly piqued, and he instinctively paused, lest -the sound of his advancing steps should disturb the conference, and -more than half in the undefined hope that he might catch the substance -of their conversation before his presence should be detected. In this -object he was perfectly successful. - -In the form which first offered itself, he instantly detected the -well-known proportions and features of young Ashwoode's groom, who had -attended his master into town; and in company with this fellow stood a -person whom Larry had just as little difficulty in recognizing as a -ruffian who had twice escaped the gallows by the critical interposition -of fortune--once by a flaw in the indictment, and again through lack of -sufficient evidence in law--each time having stood his trial on a -charge of murder. It was not very wonderful, then, that this startling -companionship between his old fellow-servant and Will Harris (or, as he -was popularly termed, "Brimstone Bill") should have piqued the -curiosity of so inquisitive a person as Larry Toole. - -In company with these worthies was a third, wrapped in a heavy -riding-coat, and who now and then slightly took part in the -conversation. They all talked in low, earnest whispers, casting many a -stealthy glance backward as they advanced through the dim avenue toward -our curious friend. - -As the party approached, Larry ensconced himself in the recess formed -by the projection of two dilapidated brick piers, between which hung a -crazy door, and in whose front there stood a mound of rubbish some -three feet in height. In such a position he not unreasonably thought -himself perfectly secure. - -"Why, what the devil ails you now, you cursed cowardly ninny," -whispered Brimstone Bill, through his set teeth--"what can happen -_you_, win or lose?--turn up black, or turn up red, is it not all one -to you, you _mouth_, you? _Your_ carcase is safe and sound--then what -do you funk for now? Rouse yourself, you d----d idiot, or I'll drive a -brace of lead pellets through your brains--rouse yourself!" - -Thus speaking, he shook the groom roughly by the collar. - -"Stop, Bill--hands off," muttered the man, sulkily--"I'm not -funking--you know I'm not; but I don't want to see him _finished_--I -don't want to see him murdered when there's no occasion for it--there's -no great harm in that; we want his _ribben_, not his blood; there's no -profit in taking his life." - -"Booby! listen to me," replied the ruffian, in the same tone of intense -impatience. "What do _I_ want with his life any more than you do? -Nothing. Do not I wish to do the thing genteelly as much as you? He -shall not lose a drop of blood, nor his skin have a scratch, if he -knows how to behave and be a good boy. Bah! we need but show him the -_lead towels_, and the job's done. Look you, I and Jack will sit in the -private room of the 'Bleeding Horse.' Old Tony's a trump, and asks no -questions; so, as you pass, give the window a skelp of the whip, and -we'll be out in the snapping of a flint. Leave the rest to us. You have -your instructions, you _kedger_, so act up to them, and the devil -himself can't spoil our sport." - -"You may look out for us, then," said the servant, "in less than two -hours. He never stays late at Lady Stukely's, and he must be home -before two o'clock." - -"Do not forget to grease the hammers," suggested the fellow in the -heavy coat. - -"He doesn't carry pistols to-night," replied the attendant. - -"So much the better--all _my_ luck," exclaimed Brimstone--"I would not -swap luck with the chancellor." - -"The devil's children, they say," observed the gentleman in the large -coat, "have the devil's luck." - -These were the last words Larry Toole could distinguish as the party -moved onward. He ventured, however, although with grievous tremors, to -peep out of his berth to ascertain the movements of the party. They all -stopped at a distance of some twenty or thirty yards from the spot -where he crouched, and for a time appeared again absorbed in earnest -debate. On a sudden, however, the fellow in the riding-coat, having -frequently looked suspiciously up the lane in which they stood, stooped -down, and, picking up a large stone, hurled it with his whole force in -the direction of the embrasure in which Larry was lurking. The missile -struck the projecting pier within a yard of that gentleman's head, with -so much force that the stone burst into fragments and descended in a -shower of splinters about his ears. This astounding salute was -instantly followed by an occurrence still more formidable--for the -ruffian, not satisfied with the test already applied, strode up in -person to the doorway in which Larry had placed himself. It was well -for that person that he was sheltered in front by the mass of rubbish -which we have mentioned: at the foot of this he lay coiled, not daring -even to breathe; every moment expecting to feel the cold point of the -villain's sword poking against his ribs, and half inclined to start -upon his feet and shout for help, although conscious that to do so -would scarcely leave him a chance for his life. The suspicions of the -wretch were, fortunately for Larry, ill-directed. He planted one foot -upon the heap of loose materials which, along with the deep shadow, -constituted poor Mr. Toole's only safeguard; and while the stones which -his weight dislodged rolled over that prostrate person, he pushed open -the door and gazed into the yard, lest any inquisitive ear or eye might -have witnessed more than was consistent with the safety of the -confederates of Brimstone Bill. The fellow was satisfied, and returned -whistling, with affected carelessness, towards his comrades. - -More dead than alive, Larry remained mute and motionless for many -minutes, not daring to peep forth from his hiding-place; when at length -he mustered courage to do so, he saw the two robbers still together, -and again shrunk back into his retreat. Luckily for the poor wight, the -fellow who had looked into the yard left the door unclosed, which, -after a little time perceiving, Larry glided stealthily in on all -fours, and in a twinkling sprang into the window at which his master -lay, as we have already recorded. - - - - -CHAPTER VIII. - -THE WARNING--SHOWING HOW LARRY TOOLE FARED--WHOM HE SAW AND WHAT HE -SAID--AND HOW MUCH GOOD AND HOW LITTLE HE DID--AND MOREOVER RELATING -HOW SOMEBODY WAS LAID IN THE MIRE--AND HOW HENRY ASHWOODE PUT HIS FOOT -IN THE STIRRUP. - - -Flurried and frightened as Larry was, his agitation was not strong -enough to overcome in him the national, instinctive abhorrence of the -character of an informer. To the close interrogatories of his master, -he returned but vague and evasive answers. A few dark hints he threw -out as to the cause of his alarm, but preserved an impenetrable silence -respecting alike its particular nature and the persons of whose -participation in the scheme he was satisfied. - -In language incoherent and nearly unintelligible from excitement, he -implored O'Connor to allow him to absent himself for about one hour, -promising the most important results, in case his request was complied -with, and vowing upon his return to tell him everything about the -matter from beginning to end. - -Seeing the agonized earnestness of the man, though wholly uninformed of -the cause of his uneasiness, which Larry constantly refused to divulge, -O'Connor granted him the permission which he desired, and both left the -building together. O'Connor pursued his way to the "Cock and Anchor," -where, restored to his chamber and to solitude, he abandoned himself -once more to the current of his wayward thoughts. - -Our friend Larry, however, was no sooner disengaged from his master, -than he began, at his utmost speed, to thread the narrow and -complicated lanes and streets which lay between the haunt of profligacy -which we have just described, and the eastern extremity of the city. -After an interrupted run of nearly half an hour through pitchy dark and -narrow streets, he emerged into Stephen's Green; at the eastern side of -which, among other buildings of lesser note, there then stood, and -perhaps (with a new face, and some slight external changes) still -stands, a large and handsome mansion. Toward this building, conspicuous -in the distance by the red glare of dozens of links and torches which -flared and flashed outside, and by the gay light streaming from its -many windows, Larry made his way. Too eager and hurried to pass along -the sides of the square by the common road, he clambered over the -broken wall which surrounded it, plunged through the broad trench, and -ran among the deep grass and rank weeds, now heavy with the dews of -night; over the broad area he pursued his way, startling the quiet -cattle from their midnight slumbers, and hastening rather than abating -his speed, as he drew near to the termination of his hurried mission. -As he approached, the long dark train of carriages, every here and -there lighted by some flaming link still unextinguished, and surrounded -by crowds of idle footmen, sufficiently indicated the scene of Lady -Stukely's hospitalities. In a moment Larry had again crossed the fences -which enclosed the square, and passing the broad road among the -carriages, chairs, and lackeys, he sprang up the steps of the house, -and thundered lustily at the hall-door. It was opened by a gruff and -corpulent porter with a red face and majestic demeanour, who, having -learned from Larry that he had an important message for Mr. Henry -Ashwoode, desired him, in as few words as possible, to step into the -hall. The official then swung the massive door to, rolled himself into -his well-cushioned throne, and having scanned Larry's proportions for a -minute or two with one eye, which he kept half open for such purposes, -he ejaculated-- - -"Mr. Finley, I say, Mr. Finley, here's one with a message upwards." -Having thus delivered himself, he shut down his open eye, screwed his -eyebrows, and became absorbed in abstruse meditation. Meanwhile, Mr. -Finley, in person arrayed in a rich livery, advanced languidly toward -Larry Toole, throwing into his face a dreamy and supercilious -expression, while with one hand he faintly fanned himself with a white -pocket handkerchief. - -"Your most obedient servant to command," drawled the footman, as he -advanced. "What can I do, my good soul, to _obleege_ you?" - -"I only want to see the young master--that's young Mr. Ashwoode," -replied Larry, "for one minute, and that's all." - -The footman gazed upon him for a moment with a languid smile, and -observed in the same sleepy tone, "Absolutely impossible--_amposseeble_, -as they say at the Pallais Royal." - -"But, blur an' agers," exclaimed Larry, "it's a matther iv life an' -death, robbery an' murdher." - -"Bloody murder!" echoed the man in a sweet, low voice, and with a stare -of fashionable abstraction. - -"Well, tear an' 'oun's," cried Larry, almost beside himself with -impatience, "if you won't bring him down to me, will you even as much -as carry him a message?" - -"To say the truth, and upon my honour," replied the man, "I can't -engage to climb up stairs just now, they are so devilish fatiguing. -Don't you find them so?" - -The question was thrown out in that vacant, inattentive way which seems -to dispense with an answer. - -"By my soul!" rejoined Larry, almost crying with vexation, "it's a hard -case. Do you mane to tell me, you'll neither bring him down to me nor -carry him up a message?" - -"You have, my excellent fellow," replied the footman, placidly, -"precisely conveyed my meaning." - -"By the hokey!" cried Larry, "you're fairly breaking my heart. In the -divil's name, can you as much as let me stop here till he's comin' -down?" - -"Absolutely impossible," replied the footman, in the same dulcet and -deliberate tone. "It is indeed _amposseeble_, as the Parisians have it. -You _must_ be aware, my good old soul, that you're in a positive -pickle. You are, pardon me, my excellent friend, very dirty and very -disgusting. You must therefore go out in a few moments into the fresh -air." At any other moment, such a speech would have infallibly provoked -Mr. Toole's righteous and most rigorous vengeance; but he was now too -completely absorbed in the mission which he had undertaken to suffer -personal considerations to have a place in his bosom. - -"Will you, then," he ejaculated desperately, "will you as much as give -him a message yourself, when he's comin' down?" - -"What message?" drawled the lackey. - -"Tell him, for the love of God, to take the _old_ road home, by the -seven sallies," replied Larry. "Will you give him that message, if it -isn't too long?" - -"I have a wretched memory for messages," observed the footman, as he -leisurely opened the door--"a perfect sieve: but should he catch my eye -as he passes, I'll endeavour, upon my honour; good night--adieu!" - -As he thus spoke, Larry had reached the threshold of the door, which -observing, the polished footman, with a _nonchalant_ and easy air, -slammed the hall-door, thereby administering upon Larry's back, -shoulders, and elbows, such a bang as to cause Mr. Toole to descend the -flight of steps at a pace much more marvellous to the spectators than -agreeable to himself. Muttering a bitter curse upon his exquisite -acquaintance, Larry took his stand among the expectants in the street; -there resolved to wait and watch for young Ashwoode, and to give him -the warning which so nearly concerned his safety. - -Meanwhile, Lady Stukely's drawing-rooms were crowded by the gay, the -fashionable, and the frivolous, of all ages. Young Ashwoode stood -behind his wealthy hostess's chair, while she played quadrille, scarce -knowing whether she won or lost, for Henry Ashwoode had never been so -fascinating before. Lady Stukely was a delicate, die-away lady, not -very far from sixty; the natural blush upon her nose outblazoned the -rouge upon her cheeks; several very long teeth--"ivory and ebon -alternately"--peeped roguishly from beneath her upper lip, which her -ladyship had a playful trick of screwing down, to conceal them--a trick -which made her ladyship's smile rather a surprising than an attractive -exhibition. It is but justice, however, to admit that she had a pair of -very tolerable eyes, with which she executed the most masterly -evolutions. For the rest, there having existed a very considerable -disparity in years between herself and her dear deceased, Sir Charles -Stukely, who had expired at the mature age of ninety, more than a year -before, she conceived herself still a very young, artless, and -interesting girl; and under this happy hallucination she was more than -half inclined to return in good earnest the disinterested affection of -Henry Ashwoode. - -There, too, was old Lord Aspenly, who had, but two days before, -solicited and received Sir Richard Ashwoode's permission to pay his -court to his beautiful daughter, Mary. There, jerking and shrugging and -grimacing, he hobbled through the rooms, all wrinkles and rappee; -bandying compliments and repartees, flirting and fooling, and beyond -measure enchanted with himself, while every interval in frivolity and -noise was filled up with images of his approaching nuptials and -intended bride, while she, poor girl, happily unconscious of all their -plans, was spared, for that night, the pangs and struggles which were -hereafter but too severely to try her heart. - -'Twere needless to enumerate noble peers, whose very titles are now -unknown--poets, who alas! were mortal--men of promise, who performed -nothing--clever young men, who grew into stupid old ones--and -millionaires, whose money perished with them; we shall not, therefore, -weary the reader by describing Lady Stukely's guests; let it suffice to -mention that Henry Ashwoode left the rooms with young Pigwiggynne, of -Bolton's regiment of dragoons, and one of Lord Wharton's aides-de-camp. -This circumstance is here recorded because it had an effect in -producing the occurrences which we have to relate by-and-by; for young -Pigwiggynne having partaken somewhat freely of Lady Stukely's wines, -and being unusually exhilarated, came forth from the hall-door to -assist Ashwoode in procuring a chair, which he did with a good deal -more noise and blasphemy than was strictly necessary. Our friend Larry -Toole, who had patiently waited the egress of his _quondam_ young -master, no sooner beheld him than he hastened to accost him, but -Pigwiggynne being, as we have said, in high spirits and unusual good -humour, cut short poor Larry's address by jocularly knocking him on the -head with a heavy walking-cane--a pleasantry which laid that person -senseless upon the pavement. The humorist passed on with an -exhilarating crow, after the manner of a cock; and had not a -matter-of-fact chairman drawn Mr. Toole from among the coach-wheels -where the joke had happened to lay him, we might have been saved the -trouble of recording the subsequent history of that very active member -of society. Meanwhile, young Ashwoode was conveyed in a chair to a -neighbouring fashionable hotel, where, having changed his suit, and -again equipped himself for the road, he mounted his horse, and followed -by his treacherous groom, set out at a brisk pace upon his hazardous, -and as it turned out, eventful night-ride toward the manor of Morley -Court. - - - - -CHAPTER IX. - -THE "BLEEDING HORSE"--HOLLANDS AND PIPES FOR TWO--EVERY BULLET HAS ITS -BILLET. - - -At the time in which the events that we have undertaken to record took -place, there stood at the southern extremity of the city, near the -point at which Camden Street now terminates, a small, old-fashioned -building, something between an ale-house and an inn. It occupied the -roadside by no means unpicturesquely; one gable jutted into the road, -with a projecting window, which stood out from the building like a -glass box held together by a massive frame of wood; and commanded by -this projecting gable, and a few yards in retreat, but facing the road, -was the inn door, over which hung a painted panel, representing a white -horse, out of whose neck there spouted a crimson cascade, and -underneath, in large letters, the traveller was informed that this was -the genuine old "Bleeding Horse." Old enough, in all conscience, it -appeared to be, for the tiled roof, except where the ivy clustered over -it, was crowded with weeds of many kinds, and the boughs of the huge -trees which embowered it had cracked and shattered one of the cumbrous -chimney-stacks, and in many places it was evident that but for the -timely interposition of the saw and the axe, the giant limbs of the old -timber would, in the gradual increase of years, have forced their way -through the roof and the masonry itself--a tendency sufficiently -indicated by sundry indentures and rude repairs in those parts of the -building most exposed to such casualties. Upon the night in which the -events that are recorded in the immediately preceding chapters -occurred, two horsemen rode up to this inn, and leisurely entering the -stable yard, dismounted, and gave their horses in charge to a ragged -boy who acted as hostler, directing him with a few very impressive -figures of rhetoric, on no account to loosen girth or bridle, or to -suffer the beasts to stir one yard from the spot where they stood. This -matter settled, they entered the house. Both were muffled; the one--a -large, shambling fellow--wore a capacious riding-coat; the other--a -small, wiry man--was wrapped in a cloak; both wore their hats pressed -down over their brows, and had drawn their mufflers up, so as to -conceal the lower part of the face. The lesser of the two men, leaving -his companion in the passage, opened a door, within which were a few -fellows drowsily toping, and one or two asleep. In a chair by the fire -sat Tony Bligh, the proprietor of the "Bleeding Horse," a middle-aged -man, rather corpulent, as pale as tallow, and with a sly, ugly squint. -The little man in the cloak merely introduced his head and shoulders, -and beckoned with his thumb. The signal, though scarcely observed by -one other of the occupants of the room, was instantly and in silence -obeyed by the landlord, who, casting one uneasy glance round, glided -across the floor, and was in the passage almost as soon as the -gentleman in the cloak. - -"Here, Tony, boy," whispered the man, as the innkeeper approached, -"fetch us a pint of Hollands, a couple of pipes, and a glim; but first -turn the key in this door here, and come yourself, do ye mind?" - -Tony squeezed the speaker's arm in token of acquiescence, and turning a -key gently in the lock, he noiselessly opened the door which Brimstone -Bill had indicated, and the two cavaliers strode into the dark and -vacant chamber. Brimstone walked to the window, pushed open the -casement, and leaned out. The beautiful moon was shining above the old -and tufted trees which lined the quiet road; he looked up and down the -shaded avenue, but nothing was moving upon it, save the varying shadows -as the night wind swung the branches to and fro. He listened, but no -sound reached his ears, excepting the rustling and moaning of the -boughs, through which the breeze was fitfully soughing. - -Scarcely had he drawn back again into the room, when Tony returned with -the refreshments which the gentleman had ordered, and with a dark -lantern enclosing a lighted candle. - -"Right, old cove," said Bill. "I see you hav'n't forgot the trick of -the trade. Who are your _pals_ inside?" - -"Three of them sleep here to-night," replied Tony. "They're all quiet -coves enough, such as doesn't hear nor see any more than they ought." - -The two fellows filled a pipe each, and lighted them at the lantern. - -"What mischief are you after now, Bill?" inquired the host, with a -peculiar leer. - -"Why should _I_ be after any mischief," replied Brimstone jocularly, -"any more than a sucking dove, eh? Do I look like mischief to-night, -old tickle-pitcher--do I?" - -He accompanied the question with a peculiar grin, which mine host -answered by a prolonged wink of no less peculiar significance. - -"Well, Tony boy," rejoined Bill, "maybe I _am_ and maybe I -_ain't_--that's the way: but mind, you did not see a stim of me, nor of -_him_, to-night (glancing at his comrade), nor ever, for that matter. -But you did see two ill-looking fellows not a bit like us; and I have a -notion that these two chaps will manage to get into a sort of shindy -before an hour's over, and then _mizzle_ at once; and if all goes well, -your hand shall be crossed with gold to-night." - -"Bill, Bill," said the landlord, with a smile of exquisite relish, and -drawing his hand coaxingly over the man's forehead, so as to smooth the -curls of his periwig nearly into his eyes, "you're just the same old -dodger--you are the devil's own bird--you have not cast a feather." - -It is hard to say how long this tender scene might have continued, had -not the other ruffian knocked his knuckles sharply on the table, and -cried-- - -"Hist! brother--_chise_ it--enough fooling--I hear a horse-shoe on the -road." - -All held their breath, and remained motionless for a time. The fellow -was, however, mistaken. Bill again advanced to the window, and gazed -intently through the long vista of trees. - -"There's not a bat stirring," said he, returning to the table, and -filling out successively two glasses of spirits, he emptied them both. -"Meanwhile, Tony," continued he, "get back to your company. Some of the -fellows may be poking their noses into this place. If you don't hear -_from_ me, at all events you'll hear of me before an hour. Hop the -twig, boy, and keep all hard in for a bit--skip." - -With a roguish grin and a shake of the fist, honest Tony, not caring to -dispute the commands of his friend, of whose temper he happened to know -something, stealthily withdrew from the room, where we, too, shall for -a time leave these worthy gentlemen of the road vigilantly awaiting the -approach of their victim. - - -Larry Toole had no sooner recovered his senses--which was in less than -a minute--than he at once betook himself to the "Cock and Anchor," -resolved, as the last resource, to inform O'Connor of the fact that an -attack was meditated. Accordingly, he hastened with very little -ceremony into the presence of his master, told him that young Ashwoode -was to be waylaid upon the road, near the "Bleeding Horse," and -implored him, without the loss of a moment, to ride in that direction, -with a view, if indeed it might not already be too late, to intercept -his passage, and forewarn him of the danger which awaited him. - -Without waiting to ask one useless question, O'Connor, before five -minutes were passed, was mounted on his trusty horse, and riding at a -hard pace through the dark streets towards the point of danger. - -Meanwhile, young Ashwoode, followed by his mounted attendant, proceeded -at a brisk trot in the direction of the manor; his brain filled with a -thousand busy thoughts and schemes, among which, not the least -important, were sundry floating calculations as to the probable and -possible amount of Lady Stukely's jointure, as well as some conjectures -respecting the _maximum_ duration of her ladyship's life. Involved in -these pleasing ruminations, sometimes crossed by no less agreeable -recollections, in which the triumphs of vanity and the successes of the -gaming-table had their share, he had now reached that shadowy and -silent part of the road at which stood the little inn, embowered in the -great old trees, and peeping forth with a sort of humble and friendly -aspect, but ill-according with the dangerous designs it served to -shelter. - -Here the servant, falling somewhat further behind, brought his horse -close under the projecting window of the inn as he passed, and with a -sharp cut of his whip gave the concerted signal. Before sixty seconds -had elapsed, two well-mounted cavaliers were riding at a hard gallop in -their wake. At this headlong pace, the foremost of the two horsemen had -passed Ashwoode by some dozen yards, when, checking his horse so -suddenly as to throw him back upon his haunches, he wheeled him round, -and plunging the spurs deep into his flanks, with two headlong springs, -he dashed him madly upon the young man's steed, hurling the beast and -his rider to the earth. Tremendous as was the fall, young Ashwoode, -remarkable alike for personal courage and activity, was in a moment -upon his feet, with his sword drawn, ready to receive the assault of -the ruffian. - -"Let go your skiver--drop it, you greenhorn," cried the fellow, -hoarsely, as he wheeled round his plunging horse, and drew a pistol -from the holster, "or, by the eternal ----, I'll blow your head into -dust!" - -Young Ashwoode attempted to seize the reins of the fellow's horse, and -made a desperate pass at the rider. - -"Take it, then," cried the fellow, thrusting the muzzle of the pistol -into Ashwoode's face and drawing the trigger. Fortunately for Ashwoode, -the pistol missed fire, and almost at the same moment the rapid clang -of a horse's hoofs, accompanied by the loud shout of menace, broke -startlingly upon his ear. Happy was this interruption for Henry -Ashwoode, for, stunned and dizzy from the shock, he at that moment -tottered, and in the next was prostrate upon the ground. "Blowed, by -----!" cried the villain, furiously, as the unwelcome sounds reached -his ears, and dashing the spurs into his horse, he rode at a furious -gallop down the road towards the country. This scene occupied scarce -six seconds in the acting. Brimstone Bill, who had but a moment before -come up to the succour of his comrade, also heard the rapid approach of -the galloping hoofs upon the road; he knew that before he could count -fifty seconds the new comer would have arrived. A few moments, however, -he thought he could spare--important moments they turned out to be to -one of the party. Bill kept his eye steadily fixed upon the point some -three or four hundred yards distant at which he knew the horseman whose -approach was announced must first appear. - -In that brief moment, the cool-headed villain had rapidly calculated -the danger of the groom's committing his accomplices through want of -coolness and presence of mind, should he himself, as was not unlikely, -become suspected. The groom's pistols were still loaded, and he had -taken no part in the conflict. Brimstone Bill fixed a stern glance upon -his companion while all these and other thoughts flashed like lightning -across his brain. - -"Darby," said he, hurriedly, to the man who sat half-stupefied in the -saddle close beside him, "blaze off the lead towels--crack them off, I -say." - -Bill impatiently leaned forward, and himself drew the pistols from the -groom's saddle-bow; he fired one of them in the air--he cocked the -other. "This dolt will play the devil with us all," thought he, looking -with a peculiar expression at the bewildered servant. With one hand he -grasped him by the collar to steady his aim, and with the other, -suddenly thrusting the pistol to his ear, and drawing the trigger, he -blew the wretched man's head into fragments like a potsherd; and -wheeling his horse's head about, he followed his comrade pell-mell, -beating the sparks in showers from the stony road at every plunge. - -All this occurred in fewer moments than it has taken us lines to -describe it; and before our friend Brimstone Bill had secured the odds -which his safety required, O'Connor was thundering at a furious gallop -within less than a hundred yards of him. Bill saw that his pursuer was -better mounted than he--to escape, therefore, by a fair race was out of -the question. His resolution was quickly taken. By a sudden and -powerful effort he reined in his horse at a single pull, and, with one -rearing wheel, brought him round upon his antagonist; at the same time, -drawing one of the large pistols from the saddle-bow, he rested it -deliberately upon his bridle-arm, and fired at his pursuer, now within -twenty yards of him. The ball passed so close to O'Connor's head that -his ear rang shrilly with the sound of it for hours after. They had now -closed; the highwayman drew his second pistol from the holster, and -each fired at the same instant. O'Connor's shot was well directed--it -struck his opponent in the bridle-arm, a little below the shoulder, -shattering the bone to splinters. With a hoarse shriek of agony, the -fellow, scarce knowing what he did, forced the spurs into his horse's -sides; and the animal reared, wheeled, and bore its rider at a reckless -speed in the direction which his companion had followed. - -It was well for him that the shot, which at the same moment he had -discharged, had not been altogether misdirected. O'Connor, indeed, -escaped unscathed, but the ball struck his horse between the eyes, and -piercing the brain, the poor beast reared upright and fell dead upon -the road. Extricating himself from the saddle, O'Connor returned to the -spot where young Ashwoode and the servant still lay. Stunned and dizzy -with the fall which he had had, the excitement of actual conflict was -no sooner over, than Ashwoode sank back into a state of insensibility. -In this condition O'Connor found him, pale as death, and apparently -lifeless. Raising him against the grassy bank at the roadside, and -having cast some water from a pool close by into his face, he saw him -speedily recover. - -"Mr. O'Connor," said Ashwoode, as soon as he was sufficiently restored, -"you have saved my life--how can I thank you?" - -"Spare your thanks, sir," replied O'Connor, haughtily; "for any man I -would have done as much--for anyone bearing your name I would do much -more. Are you hurt, sir?" - -"O'Connor, I have done you much injustice," said the young man, -betrayed for the moment into something like genuine feeling. "You must -forget and forgive it--I know your feelings respecting others of my -family--henceforward I will be your friend--do not refuse my hand." - -"Henry Ashwoode," replied O'Connor, "I take your hand--gladly -forgetting all past causes of resentment--but I want no vows of -friendship, which to-morrow you may regret. Act with regard to me -henceforward as if this night had not been--for I tell you truly again, -that I would have done as much for the meanest peasant breathing as I -have done to-night for you; and once more I pray you tell me, are you -much hurt?" - -"Nothing, nothing," replied Ashwoode--"merely a fall such as I have had -a thousand times after the hounds. It has made my head swim -confoundedly; but I'll soon be steady. What, in the meantime, has -become of honest Darby? If I mistake not, I see his horse browsing -there by the roadside." - -A few steps showed them what seemed a bundle of clothes lying heaped -upon the road; they approached it--it was the body of the servant. - -"Get up, Darby--get up, man," cried Ashwoode, at the same time pressing -the prostrate figure with his boot. It had been lying with the back -uppermost, and in a half-kneeling attitude; it now, however, rolled -round, and disclosed, in the bright moonlight, the hideous aspect of -the murdered man--the head a mere mass of ragged flesh and bone, -shapeless and blackened, and hollow as a shell. Horror-struck at the -sight, they turned in silence away, and having secured the two horses, -they both mounted and rode together back to the little inn, where, -having procured assistance, the body of the wretched servant was -deposited. Young Ashwoode and O'Connor then parted, each on his -respective way. - - - - -CHAPTER X. - -THE MASTER OF MORLEY COURT AND THE LITTLE GENTLEMAN IN -BOTTLE-GREEN--THE BARONET'S DAUGHTER--AND THE TWO CONSPIRATORS. - - -Encounters such as those described in the last chapter were, it is -needless to say, much more common a hundred and thirty years ago than -they are now. In fact, it was unsafe alike in town and country to stir -abroad after dark in any district affording wealth and aristocracy -sufficient to tempt the enterprise of _professional_ gentlemen. If -London and its environs, with all their protective advantages, were, -nevertheless, so infested with desperadoes as to render its very -streets and most frequented ways perilous to pass through during the -hours of night, it is hardly to be wondered at that Dublin, the capital -of a rebellious and semi-barbarous country--haunted by hungry -adventurers, who had lost everything in the revolutionary wars--with a -most notoriously ineffective police, and a rash and dissolute -aristocracy, with a great deal more money and a great deal less caution -than usually fall to the lot of our gentry of the present day--should -have been pre-eminently the scene of midnight violence and adventure. -The continued frequency of such occurrences had habituated men to think -very lightly of them; and the feeble condition of the civil executive -almost uniformly secured the impunity of the criminal. We shall not, -therefore, weary the reader by inviting his attention to the formal -investigation which was forthwith instituted; it is enough for all -purposes to record that, like most other investigations of the kind at -that period, it ended in--just nothing. - -Instead, then, of attending inquests and reading depositions, we must -here request the gentle reader to accompany us for a brief space into -the dressing-room of Sir Richard Ashwoode, where, upon the morning -following the events which in our last we have detailed, the -aristocratic invalid lay extended upon a well-cushioned sofa, arrayed -in a flowered silk dressing-gown, lined with crimson, and with a velvet -cap upon his head. He was apparently considerably beyond sixty--a -slightly and rather an elegantly made man, with thin, anxious features, -and a sallow complexion: his head rested upon his hand, and his eyes -wandered with an air of discontented abstraction over the fair -landscape which his window commanded. Before him was placed a small -table, with all the appliances of an elegant breakfast; and two or -three books and pamphlets were laid within reach of his hand. A little -way from him sate his beautiful child, Mary Ashwoode, paler than usual, -though not less lovely--for the past night had been to her one of -fevered excitement, griefs, and fears. There she sate, with her work -before her, and while her small hands plied their appointed task, her -soft, dark eyes wandered often with sweet looks of affection toward the -reclining form of that old haughty and selfish man, her father. - -The silence had continued long, for the old man's temper might not, -perhaps, have brooked an interruption of his ruminations, although, if -the sour and spited expression of his face might be trusted, his -thoughts were not the most pleasant in the world. The train of -reflection, whatever it might have been, was interrupted by the -entrance of a servant, bearing in his hand a note, with which he -approached Sir Richard, but with that air of nervous caution with which -one might be supposed to present a sandwich to a tiger. - -"Why the devil, sirrah, do you pound the floor so!" cried Sir Richard, -turning shortly upon the man as he advanced, and speaking in sharp and -bitter accents. "What's that you've got?--a note?--take it back, you -blockhead--I'll not touch it--it's some rascally scrap of dunning -paper--get out of my sight, sirrah." - -"An it please you, sir," replied the man, deferentially, "it comes from -Lord Aspenly." - -"Eh! oh! ah!" exclaimed Sir Richard, raising himself upon the sofa, and -extending his hand with alacrity. "Here, give it to me; so you may go, -sir--but stay, does a messenger wait?--ask particularly from me how his -lordship does, do you mind? and let the man have refreshment; go, -sirrah, go--begone!" - -Sir Richard then took the note, broke the seal, and read the contents -through, evidently with considerable satisfaction. Having completed the -perusal of the note twice over, with a smile of unusual gratification, -tinctured, perhaps, with the faintest possible admixture of ridicule, -Sir Richard turned toward his daughter with more real cheerfulness than -she had seen him exhibit for years before. - -"Mary, my good child," said he, "this note announces the arrival here, -on to-morrow, of my old, or rather, my most _particular_ friend, Lord -Aspenly; he will pass some days with us--days which we must all -endeavour to make as agreeable to him as possible. You look--you _do_ -look extremely well and pretty to-day; come here and kiss me, child." - -Overjoyed at this unwonted manifestation of affection, the girl cast -her work away, and with a beating heart and light step, she ran to her -father's side, threw her arms about his neck, and kissed him again and -again, in happy unconsciousness of all that was passing in the mind of -him she so fondly caressed. - -The door again opened, and the same servant once more presented -himself. - -"What do you come to plague me about _now_?" inquired the master, -sharply; recovering, in an instant, his usual peevish manner--"What's -this you've got?--what _is_ it?" - -"A card, sir," replied the man, at the same time advancing the salver -on which it lay within reach of the languid hand of his master. - -"Mr. Audley--Mr. Audley," repeated Sir Richard, as he read the card; "I -never heard of the man before, in the course of my life; I know nothing -about him--nothing--and care as little. Pray what is _he_ pestering -about?--what does he want here?" - -"He requests permission to see you, sir," replied the man. - -"Tell him, with my compliments, to go to hell!" rejoined the -invalid;--"Or, stay," he added, after a moment's pause--"what does he -look like?--is he well or ill-dressed?--old or young?" - -"A middle-aged man, sir; rather well-dressed," answered the servant. - -"He did not mention his business?" asked Sir Richard. - -"No, sir," replied the man; "but he said that it was very important, -and that you would be glad to see him." - -"Show him up, then," said Sir Richard, decisively. - -The servant accordingly bowed and departed. - -"A stranger!--a gentleman!--and come to me upon important and pleasant -business," muttered the baronet, musingly--"important and -pleasant!--Can my old, cross-grained brother-in-law have made a -favourable disposition of his property, and--and--died!--that were, -indeed, news worth hearing; too much luck to happen me, though--no, no, -it can't be--it can't be." - -Nevertheless, he thought it _might_ be; and thus believing, he awaited -the entrance of his visitor with extreme impatience. This suspense, -however, was not of long duration; the door opened, and the servant -announced Mr. Audley--a dapper little gentleman, in grave habiliments -of bottle-green cloth; in person somewhat short and stout; and in -countenance rather snub-featured and rubicund, but bearing an -expression in which good-humour was largely blended with -self-importance. This little person strutted briskly into the room. - -"Hem!--Sir Richard Ashwoode, I presume?" exclaimed the visitor, with a -profound bow, which threatened to roll his little person up like an -armadillo. - -Sir Richard returned the salute by a slight nod and a gracious wave of -the hand. - -"You will excuse my not rising to receive you, Mr. Audley," said the -baronet, "when I inform you that I am tied here by the gout; pray, sir, -take a chair. Mary, remove your work to the room underneath, and lay -the ebony wand within my reach; I will tap upon the floor when I want -you." - -The girl accordingly glided from the room. - -"We are now alone, sir," continued Sir Richard, after a short pause. "I -fear, sir--I know not why--that your business has relation to my -brother; is he--is he _ill_?" - -"Faith, sir," replied the little man bluntly, "I never heard of the -gentleman before in my life." - -"I breathe again, sir; you have relieved me extremely," said the -baronet, swallowing his disappointment with a ghastly smile; "and now, -sir, that you have thus considerately and expeditiously dispelled what -were, thank heaven! my groundless alarms, may I ask you to what -accident I am indebted for the singular good fortune of making your -acquaintance--in short, sir, I would fain learn the object of your -visit." - -"That you shall, sir--that you shall, in a trice," replied the little -gentleman in green. "I'm a plain man, my dear Sir Richard, and love to -come to the point at once--ahem! The story, to be sure, is a long one, -but don't be afraid, I'll abridge it--I'll abridge it." He drew his -watch from his fob, and laying it upon the table before him, he -continued--"It now wants, my dear sir, precisely seven minutes of -eleven, by London time; I shall limit myself to half-an-hour." - -"I fear, Mr. Audley, you should find me a very unsatisfactory listener -to a narrative of half-an-hour's length," observed Sir Richard, drily; -"in fact, I am not in a condition to make any such exertion; if you -will obligingly condense what you have to say into a few minutes, you -will confer a favour upon me, and lighten your own task considerably." -Sir Richard then indignantly took a pinch of snuff, and muttered, -almost audibly--"A vulgar, audacious, old boor." - -"Well, then, we must try--we must try, my dear sir," replied the little -gentleman, wiping his face with his handkerchief, by way of -preparation--"I'll just sum up the leading points, and leave -particulars for a more favourable opportunity; in fact, I'll hold over -_all_ details to our next merry meeting--our next _tete-a-tete_--when I -hope we shall meet upon a pleasanter _footing_--your gouty toes, you -know--d'ye take me? Ha! ha! excuse the joke--ha! ha! ha!" - -Sir Richard elevated his eyebrows, and looked upon the little gentleman -with a gaze of stern and petrifying severity during this burst of -merriment. - -"Well, my dear sir," continued Mr. Audley, again wiping his face, "to -proceed to business. You have learned my name from my card, but beyond -my name you know nothing about me." - -"_Nothing whatever_, sir," replied Sir Richard, with profound emphasis. - -"Just so; well, then, you _shall_," rejoined the little gentleman. "I -have been a long time settled in France--I brought over every penny I -had in the world there--in short, sir, something more than twelve -thousand pounds. Well, sir, what did I do with it? There's the -question. Your gay young fellows would have thrown it away at the -gaming table, or squandered it on gold lace and velvets--or again, your -prudent, plodding fellow would have lived quietly on the interest and -left the principal to vegetate; but what did I do? Why, sir, not caring -for idleness or show, I threw some of it into the wine trade, and with -the rest I kept hammering at the funds, winning twice for every once I -lost. In fact, sir, I prospered--the money rolled in, sir, and in due -course I became rich, sir--rich--_warm_, as the phrase goes." - -"Very _warm_, indeed, sir," replied Sir Richard, observing that his -visitor again wiped his face--"but allow me to ask, beyond the general -interest which I may be presumed to feel in the prosperity of the whole -human race, how on earth does all this concern _me_?" - -"Ay, ay, there's the question," replied the stranger, looking -unutterably knowing--"that's the puzzle. But all in good time; you -shall hear it in a twinkling. Now, being well to do in the world, you -may ask me, why do not I look out for a wife? I answer you simply, that -having escaped matrimony hitherto, I have no wish to be taken in the -noose at these years; and now, before I go further, what do you take my -age to be--how old do I look?" - -The little man squared himself, cocked his head on one side, and looked -inquisitively at Sir Richard from the corner of his eye. The patience -of the baronet was nigh giving way outright. - -"Sir," replied he, in no very gracious tones, "you may be the -'Wandering Jew,' for anything I either know or see to the contrary." - -"Ha! good," rejoined the little man, with imperturbable good humour, "I -see, Sir Richard, you are a wag--the Wandering Jew--ha, ha! no--not -_that_ quite. The fact is, sir, I am in my sixty-seventh year--you -would not have thought that--eh?" - -Sir Richard made no reply whatever. - -"You'll acknowledge, sir, that _that_ is not exactly the age at which -to talk of hearts and darts, and gay gold rings," continued the -communicative gentleman in the bottle-green. "I know very well that no -young woman, of her own free choice, could take a liking to _me_." - -"Quite impossible," with desperate emphasis, rejoined Sir Richard, upon -whose ear the sentence grated unpleasantly; for Lord Aspenly's letter -(in which "hearts and darts" were profusely noticed) lay before him on -the table; "but once more, sir, may I implore of you to tell me the -drift of all this?" - -"The drift of it--to be sure I will--in due time," replied Mr. Audley. -"You see, then, sir, that having no family of my own, and not having any -intention of taking a wife, I have resolved to leave my money to a fine -young fellow, the son of an old friend; his name is O'Connor--Edmond -O'Connor--a fine, handsome, young dog, and worthy to fill any place in -all the world--a high-spirited, good-hearted, dashing young rascal--you -know something of him, Sir Richard?" - -The baronet nodded a supercilious assent; his attention was now really -enlisted. - -"Well, Sir Richard," continued the visitor, "I have wormed out of -him--for I have a knack of my own of getting at people's secrets, no -matter how close they keep them, d'ye see--that he is over head and -ears in love with your daughter--I believe the young lady who just -left the room on my arrival; and indeed, if such is the case, I -commend the young scoundrel's taste; the lady is truly worthy of all -admiration--and----" - -"Pray, sir, proceed as briefly as may be to the object of your -conversation with me," interrupted Sir Richard, drily. - -"Well, then, to return--I understand, sir," continued Audley, "that -you, suspecting something of the kind, and believing the young fellow -to be penniless, very naturally, and, indeed, I may say, very -prudently, and very sensibly, opposed yourself to the thing from the -commencement, and obliged the sly young dog to discontinue his -visits;--well, sir, matters stood so, until _I_--cunning little -_I_--step in, and change the whole posture of affairs--and how? Marry, -thus, I come hither and ask your daughter's hand for _him_, upon these -terms following--that I undertake to convey to him, at once, lands to -the value of one thousand pounds a year, and that at my death I will -leave him, with the exception of a few small legacies, sole heir to all -I have; and on his wedding-day give him and his lady their choice of -either of two chateaux, the worst of them a worthy residence for a -nobleman." - -"Are these chateaux in Spain?" inquired Sir Richard, sneeringly. - -"No, no, sir," replied the little man, with perfect guilelessness; -"both in Flanders." - -"Well, sir," said Sir Richard Ashwoode, raising himself almost to a -sitting posture, and preluding his observations with two unusually -large pinches of snuff, "I have heard you very patiently throughout a -statement, all of which was fatiguing, and much of which was positively -disagreeable to me: and I trust that what I have now to say will render -it wholly unnecessary for you and me ever again to converse upon the -same topic. Of Mr. O'Connor, whom, in spite of this strange repetition -of an already rejected application, I believe to be a spirited young -man, I shall say nothing more than that, from the bottom of my heart I -wish him every success of every kind, so long as he confines his -aspirations to what is suitable to his own position in society; and, -consequently, conducive to his own comfort and respectability. With -respect to his very flattering vicarious proposal, I must assure you -that I do not suspect Miss Ashwoode of any inclination to descend from -the station to which her birth and fortune entitle her; and if I did -suspect it, I should feel it to be my imperative duty to resist, by -every means in my power, the indulgence of any such wayward caprice; -but lest, after what I have said, any doubt should rest upon your mind -as to the value of these obstacles, it may not be amiss to add that my -daughter, Miss Ashwoode, is actually promised in marriage to a -gentleman of exalted rank and great fortune, and who is, in all -respects, an unexceptionable connection. I have the honour, sir, to -wish you good-morning." - -"The devil!" exclaimed the little gentleman, as soon as his utter -amazement allowed him to take breath. A long pause ensued, during which -he twice inflated his cheeks to their utmost tension, and puffed the -air forth with a prolonged whistle of desolate wonder. Recollecting -himself, however, he hastily arose, wished Sir Richard good-day, and -walked down stairs, and out of the house, all the way muttering, "God -bless my body and soul--a thousand pounds a year--the devil--_can_ it -be?--body o' me--refuse a thousand a year--what the deuce is he looking -for?"--and such other ejaculations; stamping all the while emphatically -upon every stair as he descended, to give vent to his indignation, as -well as impressiveness to his remarks. - -Something like a smile for a moment lit up the withered features of the -old baronet; he leaned back luxuriously upon his sofa, and while he -listened with delighted attention to the stormy descent of his visitor, -he administered to its proper receptacle, with prolonged relish, two -several pinches of rappee. - -"So, so," murmured he, complacently, "I suspect I have seen the last of -honest Mr. Audley--a little surprised and a little angry he does appear -to be--dear me!--he stamps fearfully--what a very strange creature it -is." - -Having made this reflection, Sir Richard continued to listen pleasantly -until the sounds were lost in the distance; he then rang a small -hand-bell which lay upon the table, and a servant entered. - -"Tell Mistress Mary," said the baronet, "that I shall not want her just -now, and desire Mr. Henry to come hither instantly--begone, sirrah." - -The servant disappeared, and in a few moments young Ashwoode, looking -unusually pale and haggard, and dressed in a morning suit, entered the -chamber. Having saluted his father with the formality which the usages -of the time prescribed, and having surveyed himself for a moment at the -large mirror which stood in the room, and having adjusted thereat the -tie of his lace cravat, he inquired,-- - -"Pray, sir, who was that piece of 'too, too solid flesh' that passed me -scarce a minute since upon the stairs, pounding all the way with the -emphasis of a battering ram? As far as I could judge, the thing had -just been discharged from your room." - -"You have happened, for once in your life, to talk with relation to the -subject to which I would call your attention," said Sir Richard. "The -person whom you describe with your wonted facetiousness, has just been -talking with me; his name is Audley; I never saw him till this morning, -and he came coolly to make proposals, in young O'Connor's name, for -your sister's hand, promising to settle some scurvy chateaux, heaven -knows where, upon the happy pair." - -"Well, sir, and what followed?" asked the young man. - -"Why simply, sir," replied his father, "that I gave him the answer -which sent him stamping down stairs, as you saw him. I laughed in his -face, and desired him to go about his business." - -"Very good, indeed, sir," observed young Ashwoode. - -"There is no occasion for commentary, sir," continued Sir Richard. -"Attend to what I have to say: a nobleman of large fortune has -requested my permission to make his suit to your sister--_that_ I have, -of course, granted; he will arrive here to-morrow, to make a stay of -some days. I am resolved the thing _shall_ be concluded. I ought to -mention that the nobleman in question is Lord Aspenly." - -The young man looked for a moment or two the very impersonation of -astonishment, and then, burst into an uncontrollable fit of laughter. - -"Either be silent, sir, or this moment quit the room," said Sir -Richard, in a tone which few would have liked to disobey--"how dare -you--you--you insolent, dependent coxcomb--how dare you, sir, treat me -with this audacious disrespect?" - -The young man hastened to avert the storm, whose violence he had more -than once bitterly felt, by a timely submission. - -"I assure you, sir, nothing was further from my intention than to -offend you," said he--"I am fully alive--as a man of the world, I could -not be otherwise--to the immense advantages of the connection; but Lord -Aspenly I have known so long, and always looked upon as a confirmed old -bachelor, that on hearing his name thus suddenly, something of -incongruity, and--and--and I don't exactly know what--struck me so very -forcibly, that I involuntarily and very thoughtlessly began to laugh. I -assure you, sir, I regret it very much, if it has offended you." - -"You are a weak fool, sir, I am afraid," replied his father, shortly: -"but that conviction has not come upon me by surprise; you _can_, -however, be of some use in this matter, and I am determined you _shall_ -be. Now, sir, mark me: I suspect that this young fellow--this O'Connor, -is not so indifferent to Mary as he should be to a daughter of mine, -and it is more than possible that he may endeavour to maintain his -interest in her affections, imaginary or real, by writing letters, -sending messages, and such manoeuvring. Now, you must call upon the -young man, wherever he is to be found, and either procure from him a -distinct pledge to the effect that he will think no more of her (the -young fellow has a sense of honour, and I would rely upon his promise), -or else you must have him out--in short, make him _fight_ you--you -attend, sir--if _you_ get hurt, we can easily make the country too hot -to hold him; and if, on the other hand, _you_ poke _him_ through the -body, there's an end of the whole difficulty. This step, sir, you -_must_ take--you understand me--I am very much in earnest." - -This was delivered with a cold deliberateness, which young Ashwoode -well understood, when his father used it to imply a fixity of purpose, -such as brooked no question, and halted at no obstacle. - -"Sir," replied Henry Ashwoode, after an embarrassed pause of a few -minutes, "you are not aware of _one_ particular connected with last -night's affray--you have heard that poor Darby, who rode with me, was -actually brained, and that _I_ escaped a like fate by the interposition -of one who, at his own personal risk, saved my life--that one was the -very Edmond O'Connor of whom we speak." - -"What you allude to," observed Sir Richard, with very edifying -coolness, "is, no doubt, very shocking and very horrible. I regret the -destruction of the man, although I neither saw nor knew much about him; -and for your eminently providential escape, I trust I am fully as -thankful as I ought to be; and now, granting all you have said to be -perfectly accurate--which I take it to be--what conclusion do you wish -me to draw from it?" - -"Why, sir, without pretending to any very extraordinary proclivity to -gratitude," replied the young man--"for O'Connor told me plainly that -he did not expect any--I must consider what the world will say, if I -return what it will be pleased to regard as an obligation, by -challenging the person who conferred it." - -"Good, sir--good," said the baronet, calmly: and gazing upon the -ceiling with elevated eyebrows and a bitter smile, he added, -reflectively, "he's afraid--afraid--afraid--ay, afraid--afraid." - -"You wrong me very much, sir," rejoined young Ashwoode, "if you imagine -that fear has anything to do with my reluctance to act as you would -have me; and no less do you wrong me, if you think I would allow any -school-boy sentimentalism to stand in the way of my family's interests. -My _real_ objection to the thing is this--first, that I cannot see any -satisfactory answer to the question, What will the world say of my -conduct, in case I force a duel upon him the day after he has saved my -life?--and again, I think it inevitably damages any young woman in the -matrimonial market, to have low duels fought about her." - -Sir Richard screwed his eyebrows reflectively, and remained silent. - -"But at the same time, sir," continued his son, "I see as clearly as -you could wish me to do, the importance, under present circumstances--or -rather the absolute necessity--of putting a stop to O'Connor's suit; -and, in short, to all communication between him and my sister, and I -will undertake to do this effectually." - -"And how, sir, pray?" inquired the baronet. - -"I shall, as a matter of course, wait upon the young man," replied -Henry Ashwoode--"his services of last night demand that I should do so. -I will explain to him, in a friendly way, the hopelessness of his suit. -I should not hesitate either to throw a little colouring of my own over -the matter. If I can induce O'Connor once to regard me as his -friend--and after all, it is but the part of a friend to put a stop to -this foolish affair--I will stake my existence that the matter shall be -broken off for ever and a day. If, however, the young fellow turn out -foolish and pig-headed, I can easily pick a quarrel with him upon some -other subject, and get him out of the way as you propose; but without -mixing up my sister's name in the dispute, or giving occasion for -gossip. However, I half suspect that it will require neither crafty -stratagem nor shrewd blows to bring this absurd business to an end. I -daresay the parties are beginning to tire heartily of waiting, and -perhaps a little even of one another; and, for my part, I really do not -know that the girl ever cared for him, or gave him the smallest -encouragement." - -"But _I_ know that she _did_," replied Sir Richard. "Carey has shown me -letters from her to him, and from him to her, not six months since. -Carey is a very useful woman, and may do us important service. I did -not choose to mention that I had seen these letters; but I sounded Mary -somewhat sternly, and left her with a caution which I think must have -produced a salutary effect--in short, I told her plainly, that if I had -reason to suspect any correspondence or understanding between her and -O'Connor, I should not scruple to resort to the sternest and most -rigorous interposition of parental authority, to put an end to it -peremptorily. I confess, however, that I have misgivings about this. I -regard it as a very serious obstacle--one, however, which, so sure as I -live, I will entirely annihilate." - -There was a pause for a little while, and Sir Richard continued,-- - -"There is a good deal of sense in what you have suggested. We will talk -it over and arrange operations systematically this evening. I presume -you intend calling upon the fellow to-day; it might not be amiss if you -had him to dine with you once or twice in town: you must get up a kind -of confidential acquaintance with him, a thing which you can easily -terminate, as soon as its object is answered. He is, I believe, what -they call a frank, honest sort of fellow, and is, of course, very -easily led; and--and, in short--made a _fool_ of: as for the girl, I -think I know something of the sex, and very few of them are so romantic -as not to understand the value of a title and ten thousand a year! -Depend upon it, in spite of all her sighs, and vapours, and romance, -the girl will be dazzled so effectually before three weeks, as to be -blind to every other object in the world; but if not, and should she -dare to oppose my wishes, I'll make her cross-grained folly more -terrible to her than she dreams of--but she knows me too well--she -_dares_ not." - -Both parties remained silent and abstracted for a time, and then Sir -Richard, turning sharply to his son, exclaimed, with his usual tart -manner,-- - -"And now, sir, I must admit that I am a good deal tired of your very -agreeable company. Go about your business, if you please, and be in -this room this evening at half-past six o'clock. You had _better_ not -forget to be punctual; and, for the present, get out of my sight." - -With this very affectionate leave-taking, Sir Richard put an end to the -family consultation, and the young man, relieved of the presence of the -only person on earth whom he really feared, gladly closed the door -behind him. - - - - -CHAPTER XI. - -THE OLD BEECH-TREE WALK AND THE IVY-GROWN GATEWAY--THE TRYSTE AND TUE -CRUTCH-HANDLED CANE. - - -In the snug old "Cock and Anchor," the morning after the exciting -scenes in which O'Connor had taken so active a part, that gentleman was -pacing the floor of his sitting-room in no small agitation. On the -result of that interview, which he had resolved no longer to postpone, -depended his happiness for years--it might be for life. Again and again -he applied himself to the task of arranging clearly and concisely, and -withal adroitly and with tact, the substance of what he had to say to -Sir Richard Ashwoode. But, spite of all, his mind would wander to the -pleasant hours he had passed with Mary Ashwoode in the quiet green wood -and by the dark well's side, and through the moss-grown rocks, and by -the chiming current of the wayward brook, long before the cold and -worldly had suspected and repulsed that love which he knew could never -die but when his heart had ceased to beat for ever. Again would he, -banishing with a stoical effort these unbidden visions of memory, seek -to accomplish the important task which he had proposed to himself; but -still all in vain. There was she once more--there was the pale, -pensive, lovely face--there the long, dark, silken tresses--there the -deep, beautiful eyes--and there the smile--the artless, melancholy, -enchanting smile. - -"It boots not trying," exclaimed O'Connor. "I cannot collect my -thoughts; and yet what use in conning over the order and the words of -what, after all, will be judged merely by its meaning? Perhaps it is -better that I should yield myself wholly up to the impulse of the -moment, and so speak but the more directly and the more boldly. No; -even in such a cause I will not accommodate myself to his cramp and -crooked habits of thought and feeling. If I let him know all, it -matters little how he learns it." - -As O'Connor finished this sentence, his meditations were dispelled by -certain sounds, which issued from the passage leading to his room. - -"A young man," exclaimed a voice, interrupted by a good deal of puffing -and blowing, probably caused by the steep ascent, "and a good-looking, -eh?--(puff)--dark eyes, eh?--(puff, puff)--black hair and straight -nose, eh?--(puff, puff)--long-limbed, tall, eh?--(puff)." - -The answers to these interrogatories, whatever they may have been, -were, where O'Connor stood, wholly inaudible; but the cross-examination -was accompanied throughout by a stout, firm, stumping tread upon the -old floor, which, along with the increasing clearness with which the -noise made its way to O'Connor's door, sufficiently indicated that the -speaker was approaching. The accents were familiar to him. He ran to -his door, opened it; and in an instant Hugh Audley, Esquire, very hot -and very much out of breath, pitched himself, with a good deal of -precision, shoulders foremost, against the pit of the young man's -stomach, and, embracing him a little above the hips, hugged him for -some time in silence, swaying him to and fro with extraordinary energy, -as if preparatory to tripping him up, and taking him off his feet -altogether--then giving him a shove straight from him, and holding him -at arm's length, he looked with brimful eyes, and a countenance beaming -with delight, full in O'Connor's face. - -"Confound the dog, how well he looks," exclaimed the old gentleman, -vehemently--"devilish well, curse him!" and he gave O'Connor a shove -with his knuckles, and succeeded in staggering himself--"never saw you -look better in my life, nor anyone else for that matter; and how is -every inch of you, and what have you been doing with yourself? Come, -you young dog, account for yourself." - -O'Connor had now, for the first time, an opportunity of bidding the -kind old gentleman welcome, which he did to the full as cordially, if -not so boisterously. - -"Let me sit down and rest myself: I must take breath for a minute," -exclaimed the old gentleman. "Give me a chair, you undutiful rascal. -What a devil of a staircase that is, to be sure. Well, and what do you -intend doing with yourself to-day?" - -"To say the truth," said the young man, while a swarthier glow crossed -his dark features. "I was just about to start for Morley Court, to see -Sir Richard Ashwoode." - -"About his daughter, I take it?" inquired the old gentleman. - -"Just so, sir," replied the younger man. - -"Then you may spare yourself the pains," rejoined the old gentleman, -briskly. "You are better at home. You have been forestalled." - -"What--how, sir? What do you mean?" asked O'Connor, in great perplexity -and alarm. - -"Just what I say, my boy. You have been forestalled." - -"By whom, sir?" - -"By me." - -"By you?" - -"Ay." - -The old gentleman screwed his brows and pursed up his mouth until it -became a Gordian involution of knots and wrinkles, threw a fierce and -determined expression into his eyes, and wagged his head slightly from -side to side--looking altogether very like a "Cromwell guiltless of his -country's blood." At length he said,-- - -"I'm an old fellow, and ought to know something by this time--think I -_do_, for that matter; and I say deliberately--cut the whole concern -and blow them all." - -Having thus delivered himself, the old gentleman resumed his sternest -expression of countenance, and continued in silence to wag his head -from time to time with an air of infinite defiance, leaving his young -companion, if possible, more perplexed and bewildered than ever. - -"And have you, then, seen Sir Richard Ashwoode?" inquired O'Connor. - -"Have I seen him?" rejoined the old gentleman. "To be sure I have. The -moment the boat touched the quay, and I fairly felt _terra firma_, I -drove to the 'Fox in Breeches,' and donned a handsome suit"--(here the -gentleman glanced cursorily at his bottle-green habiliments)--"I -ordered a hack-coach--got safely to Morley Court--saw Sir Richard, laid -up with the gout, looking just like an old, dried-up, cross-grained -monkey. There was, of course, a long explanation, and all that sort of -thing--a good deal of tact and diplomacy on my side, doubling about, -neat fencing, and circumbendibus; but all would not do--an infernal -_smash_. Sir Richard was all but downright uncivil--would not hear of -it--said plump and plain he would never consent. The fact is, he's a -sour, hard, insolent old scoundrel, and a bitter pill; and I -congratulate you heartily on having escaped all connection with him and -his. Don't look so down in the mouth about the matter; there's as good -fish in the sea as ever was caught; and if the young woman is half such -a shrew as her father is a tartar, you have had an escape to be -thankful for the longest day you live." - -We shall not attempt to describe the feelings with which O'Connor -received this somewhat eccentric communication. He folded his arms upon -the table, and for many minutes leaned his head upon them, without -motion, and without uttering one word. At length he said,-- - -"After all, I ought to have expected this. Sir Richard is a bigoted man -in his own faith--an ambitious and a worldly man, too. It was folly, -mere folly, knowing all this, to look for any other answer from him. He -may indeed delay our union for a little, but he cannot bar it--he -_shall_ not bar it. I could more easily doubt myself than Mary's -constancy; and if she be but firm and true--and she is all loyalty and -all truth--the world cannot part us two. Our separation cannot outlast -his life; nor shall it last so long. I will overcome her scruples, -combat all her doubts, satisfy her reason. She will consent--she will -be mine--my own--through life and until death. No hand shall sunder us -for ever,"--he turned to the old man, and grasped his hand--"My dear, -kind, true friend, how can I ever thank you for all your generous acts -of kindness. I cannot." - -"Never mind, never mind, my dear boy," said the old gentleman, -blubbering in spite of himself--"never mind--what a d----d old fool I -am, to be sure. Come, come, you, shall take a turn with me towards the -country, and get an appetite for dinner. You'll be as well as ever in -half an hour. When all's done, you stand no worse than you did -yesterday; and if the girl's a good girl, as I make no doubt she is, -why, you are sure of her constancy--and the devil himself shall not -part you. Confound me if I don't run away with the girl for you myself -if you make a pother about the matter. Come along, you dog--come along, -I say." - -"Nay, sir," replied O'Connor, "forgive me. I am keenly pained. I am -agitated--confounded at the suddenness of this--this dreadful blow. I -will go alone, pardon me, my kind and dear friend, I must go _alone_. I -may chance to see the lady. I am sure she will not fail me--she will -meet me. Oh! heart and brain, be still--be steady--I need your best -counsels now. Farewell, sir--for a little time, farewell." - -"Well, be it so--since so it _must_ be," said Mr. Audley, who did not -care to combat a resolution, announced with all the wild energy of -despairing passion, "by all means, my dear boy, _alone_ it shall be, -though I scarce think you would be the worse of a staid old fellow's -company in your ramble--but no matter, boys will be boys while the -world goes round." - -The conclusion of this sentence was a soliloquy, for O'Connor had -already descended to the inn yard, where he procured a horse, and was -soon, with troubled mind and swelling heart, making rapid way toward -Morley Court. It was now the afternoon--the sun had made nearly half -his downward course--the air was soft and fresh, and the birds sang -sweetly in the dark nooks and bowers of the tall trees: it seemed -almost as if summer had turned like a departing beauty, with one last -look of loveliness to gladden the scene which she was regretfully -leaving. So sweet and still the air--so full and mellow the thrilling -chorus of merry birds among the rustling leaves, flitting from bough to -bough in the clear and lofty shadow--so cloudless the golden flood of -sunlight. Such was the day--so gladsome the sounds--so serene the -aspect of all nature--as O'Connor, dismounting under the shadow of a -tall, straggling hawthorn hedge, and knotting the bridle in one of its -twisted branches, crossed a low stile, and thus entered the grounds of -Morley Court. He threaded a winding path which led through a neglected -wood of thorn and oak, and found himself after a few minutes in the -spot he sought. The old beech walk had been once the main avenue to the -house. Huge beech-trees flung their mighty boughs high in air across -its long perspective--and bright as was the day, the long lane lay in -shadow deep and solemn as that of some old Gothic aisle. Down this dim -vista did O'Connor pace with hurried steps toward the spot where, about -midway in its length, there stood the half-ruined piers and low walls -of what had once been a gateway. - -"Can it be that she shrinks from this meeting?" thought O'Connor, as -his eye in vain sought the wished-for form of Mary Ashwoode, "will she -disappoint me?--surely she who has walked with me so many lonely hours -in guileless trust need not have feared to meet me here. It was not -generous to deny me this boon--to her so easy--to me so rich--yet -perchance she judges wisely. What boots it that I should see her? Why -see again that matchless beauty--that touching smile--those eyes that -looked so fondly on me? Why see her more--since mayhap we shall never -meet again? She means it kindly. Her nature is all nobleness--all -generosity; and yet--and yet to see her no more--to hear her voice no -more--have we--have we then parted at last for ever? But no--by -heavens--'tis she--Mary!" - -It was indeed Mary Ashwoode, blushing and beautiful as ever. In an -instant O'Connor stood by her side. - -"My own--my true-hearted Mary." - -"Oh! Edmond," said she, after a brief silence, "I fear I have done -wrong--have I?--in meeting you thus. I ought not--indeed I know I ought -not to have come." - -"Nay, Mary, do not speak thus. Dear Mary, have we not been companions -in many a pleasant ramble: in those times--the times, Mary, that will -never come again? Why, then, should you deny me a few minutes' mournful -converse, where in other days we two have passed so many pleasant -hours?" - -There was in the tone in which he spoke something so unutterably -melancholy--and in the recollections which his few simple words called -crowding to her mind, something at once so touching, so dearly -cherished, and so bitterly regretted--that the tears gathered in her -full dark eyes, and fell one by one fast and unheeded. - -"You do not grieve, then, Mary," said he, "that you have come -here--that we have met once more: do you, Mary?" - -"No, no, Edmond--no, indeed," answered she, sobbing. "God knows I do -not, Edmond--no, no." - -"Well, Mary," said he, "I am happy in the belief that you feel toward -me just as you used to do--as happy as one so wretched can hope to be." - -"Edmond, your words affright me," said she, fixing her eyes full upon -him with imploring earnestness: "you look sadder--paler than you did -yesterday; something has happened since then. What--what is it, Edmond? -tell me--ah, tell me!" - -"Yes, Mary, much has happened," answered he, taking her hand between -both of his, and meeting her gaze with a look of passionate sorrow and -tenderness--"yes, Mary, without my knowledge, the friend of whom I told -you had arrived, and this morning saw your father, told him _all_, and -was repulsed with sternness--almost with insult. Sir Richard has -resolved that it shall never be; there is no more hope of bending -him--none--none--none." - -While O'Connor spoke, the colour in Mary's cheeks came and fled in turn -with quick alternations, in answer to every throb and flutter of the -poor heart within. - -"See him--speak to him--yourself, Edmond, yourself. Oh! do not -despair--see him--speak to him," she almost whispered, for agitation -had well-nigh deprived her of voice--"see him, Edmond--yourself--for -God's sake, dear Edmond--yourself--yourself"--and she grasped his arm -in her tiny hand, and gazed in his pale face with such a look of -agonized entreaty as cut him to the very heart. - -"Yes, Mary, if it seems good to you, I will speak to him myself," said -O'Connor, with deep melancholy. "I will, Mary, though my own heart--my -reason--tells me it is all--all utterly in vain; but, Mary," continued -he, suddenly changing his tone to one of more alacrity, "if he should -still reject me--if he shall forbid our ever meeting more--if he shall -declare himself unalterably resolved against our union--Mary, in such a -case, would you, too, tell me to see you no more--would you, too, tell -me to depart without hope, and never come again? or would you, -Mary--could you--dare you--dear, dear Mary, for once--once -only--disobey your stern and haughty father--dare you trust yourself -with me--fly with me to France, and be at last, and after all, my -own--my bride?" - -"No, Edmond," said she, solemnly and sadly, while her eyes again filled -with tears; and though she trembled like the leaf on the tree, yet he -knew by the sound of her sad voice that her purpose could not -alter--"that can never be--never, Edmond--no--no." - -"Then, Mary, can it be," he answered, with an accent so desolate that -despair itself seemed breathing in its tone--"can it be, after all--all -we have passed and proved--all our love and constancy, and all our -bright hopes, so long and fondly cherished--cherished in the midst of -grief and difficulty--when we had no other stay but hope alone--are we, -after all--at last, to part for ever?--is it, indeed, Mary, all--all -over?" - -As the two lovers stood thus in deep and melancholy converse by the -ivy-grown and ruined gateway, beneath the airy shadow of the old -beech-trees, they were recalled to other thoughts by the hurried patter -of footsteps, and the rustling of the branches among the underwood -which skirted the avenue. As fortune willed it, however, the intruder -was no other than the honest dog, Rover, Mary's companion in many a -silent and melancholy ramble; he came sniffing and bounding with -boisterous greeting to hail his young mistress and her companion. The -interruption, harmless as it was, startled Mary Ashwoode. - -"Were my father to find us here, Edmond," said she, "it were fatal to -all our hopes. You know his temper well. Let us then part here. Follow -the by-path leading to the house. Go and see him--speak with him for my -sake--for my sake, Edmond--and so--and so--farewell." - -"And farewell, Mary, since it must be," said O'Connor, with a bitter -struggle. "Farewell, but only for a time--only for a little time, Mary; -and whatever befalls, remember--remember me. Farewell, Mary." - -As he thus spoke, he raised her hand to his lips, and kissed it for the -first time, it might be for the last, in his life. For a moment he -stood, and gazed with sad devotion upon the loved face. Then, with an -effort, he turned abruptly away, and strode rapidly in the direction -she had indicated; and when he turned to look again, she was gone. - -O'Connor followed the narrow path, which, diverging a little from the -broad grass lane, led with many a wayward turn among the tall trees -toward the house. As he thus pursued his way, a few moments of -reflection satisfied him of the desperate nature of the enterprise -which he had undertaken. But if lovers are often upon unreal grounds -desponding, it is likewise true that they are sometimes sanguine when -others would despair; and, spite of all his misgivings--of all the -irresistible conclusions of stern reason--hope still beckoned him on. -Thus agitated, he pursued his way, until, on turning an abrupt angle, -he beheld, scarcely more than a dozen paces in advance, and moving -slowly toward him in the shadowy pathway, a figure, at sight of which, -thus suddenly presented, he recoiled, and stood for a moment fixed as a -statue. He had encountered the object of his search. The form was that -of Sir Richard Ashwoode himself, who, wrapped in his scarlet -roquelaure, and leaning upon the shoulder of his Italian valet, while -he limped forward slowly and painfully, appeared full before him. - -"So, so, so, so," repeated the baronet, at first with unaffected -astonishment, which speedily, however, deepened into intense but -constrained anger--his dark, prominent eyes peering fiercely upon the -young man, while, stooping forward, and clutching his crutch-handled -cane hard in his lean fingers, he limped first one and then another -step nearer. - -"Mr. O'Connor! or my eyes deceive me." - -"Yes, Sir Richard," replied O'Connor, with a haughty bow, and advancing -a little toward him in turn. "I am that Edmond O'Connor whom you once -knew well, and whom it would seem you still know. I ought, doubtless----" - -"Nay, sir, no flowers of rhetoric, if you please," interrupted Sir -Richard, bitterly--"no fustian speeches--to the point--to the point, -sir. If you have ought to say to me, deliver it in six words. Your -business, sir. Be brief." - -"I will not indeed waste words, Sir Richard Ashwoode," replied -O'Connor, firmly. "There is but one subject on which I would seek a -conference with you, and that subject you well may guess." - -"I _do_ guess it," retorted Sir Richard. "You would renew an absurd -proposal--one opened three years since, and repeated this morning by -the old booby, your elected spokesman. To that proposal I have ever -given one answer--no. I have not changed my mind, nor ever shall. Am I -understood, sir? And least of all should I think of changing my purpose -now," continued he, more pointedly, as a suspicion crossed his -mind--"_now_, sir, that you have forfeited by your own act whatever -regard you once seemed to me to merit. You did not seek _me_ here, sir. -I'm not to be fooled, sir. You did not seek me--don't assert it. I -understand your purpose. You came here clandestinely to tamper like a -schemer with my child. Yes, sir, a schemer!" repeated Sir Richard, with -bitter emphasis, while his sharp sallow features grew sharper and more -sallow still; and he struck the point of his cane at every emphatic -word deep into the sod--"a mean, interested, cowardly schemer. How dare -you steal into my place, you thrice-rejected, dishonourable, spiritless -adventurer?" - -The blood rushed to O'Connor's brow as the old man uttered this -insulting invective. The fiery impulse which under other circumstances -would have been uncontrollable, was, however, speedily, though with -difficulty, mastered; and O'Connor replied bitterly,-- - -"You are an old man, Sir Richard, and _her_ father--you are safe, sir. -How much of chivalry or courage is shown in heaping insult upon one who -_will_ not retort upon you, judge for yourself. Alter what has passed, -I feel that I were, indeed, the vile thing you have described, if I -were again to subject myself to your unprovoked insolence: be assured, -I shall never place foot of mine within your boundaries again: relieve -yourself, sir, of all fears upon that score; and for your language, you -know you can appreciate the respect that makes me leave you thus -unanswered and unpunished." - -So saying, he turned, and with long and rapid strides retraced his -steps, his heart swelling with a thousand struggling emotions. Scarce -knowing what he did, O'Connor rode rapidly to the "Cock and Anchor," -and too much stunned and confounded by the scenes in which he had just -borne a part to exchange a word with Mr. Audley, whom he found still -established in his chamber, he threw himself dejectedly into a chair, -and sank into gloomy and obstinate abstraction. The good-natured old -gentleman did not care to interrupt his young friend's ruminations, and -hours might have passed away and found them still undisturbed, were it -not that the door was suddenly thrown open, and the waiter announced -Mr. Ashwoode. There was a spell in the name which instantly recalled -O'Connor to the scene before him. Had a viper sprung up at his feet, he -could not have recoiled with a stronger antipathy. With a mixture of -feelings scarcely tolerable, he awaited his arrival, and after a moment -or two of suspense, Henry Ashwoode entered the room. - -Mr. Audley, having heard the name, scowled fearfully from the centre of -the room upon the young gentleman as he entered, stuffed his hands -half-way to the elbows in his breeches pockets, and turning briskly -upon his heel, marched emphatically to the window, and gazed out into -the inn yard with remarkable perseverance. The obvious coldness with -which he was received did not embarrass young Ashwoode in the least. -With perfect ease and a graceful frankness of demeanour, he advanced to -O'Connor, and after a greeting of extraordinary warmth, inquired how he -had gotten home, and whether he had suffered since any inconvenience -from the fall which he had. He then went on to renew his protestations -of gratitude for O'Connor's services, with so much ardour and apparent -heartiness, that spite of his prejudices, the old man was moved in his -favour; and when Ashwoode expressed in a low voice to O'Connor his wish -to be introduced to his friend, honest Mr. Audley felt his heart quite -softened, and instead of merely bowing to him, absolutely shook him by -the hand. The young man then, spite of O'Connor's evident reluctance, -proceeded to relate to his new acquaintance the details of the -adventures of the preceding night, in doing which, he took occasion to -dwell, in the most glowing terms, upon his obligations to O'Connor. -After sitting with them for nearly half an hour, young Ashwoode took -his leave in the most affectionate manner possible, and withdrew. - -"Well, that _is_ a good-looking young fellow, and a warm-hearted," -exclaimed the old gentleman, as soon as the visitor had -disappeared--"what a pity he should be cursed with such a confounded -old father." - - - - -CHAPTER XII. - -THE APPOINTED HOUR--THE SCHEMERS AND THE PLOT. - - -"And here comes my dear brother," exclaimed Mary Ashwoode, joyously, as -she ran to welcome the young man, now entering her father's room, in -which, for more than an hour previously, she had been sitting. Throwing -her arm round his neck, and looking sweetly in his face, she -continued--"You _will_ stay with us this evening, dear Harry--do, for -my sake--you won't refuse--it is so long since we have had you;" and -though she spoke with a gay look and a gladsome voice, a sense of real -solitariness called a tear to her dark eye. - -"No, Mary--not this evening," said the young man coldly; "I must be in -town again to-night, and before I go must have some conversation upon -business with my father, so that I may not see you again till morning." - -"But, dear Henry," said she, still clinging affectionately to his arm, -"you have been in such danger, and I knew nothing of it until after you -went out this morning: are you quite well, Henry?--you were not -hurt--were you?" - -"No, no--nothing--nothing--I never was better," said he, impatiently. - -"Well, brother--_dear_ brother," she continued imploringly, "come early -home to-night--do not be upon the road late--won't you promise?" - -"There, there, there," said he rudely, "run away--take your work, or -your book, or whatever it may be, down stairs; your father wants to -speak with me alone," and so saying, he turned pettishly from her. - -His habitual coldness and carelessness of manner had never before -seemed so ungracious. The poor girl felt her heart swell within her, as -though it would burst. She had never felt so keenly that in all this -world there lived but one being upon whose love she might rely, and he -separated, it might be for ever, from her: she gathered up her work, -and ran quickly from the room, to hide the tears which she could not -restrain. - -Young Ashwoode was to the full as worldly and as unprincipled a man as -was his father; and whatever reluctance he may have felt as to adopting -Sir Richard's plans respecting O'Connor, the reader would grievously -wrong him in attributing his unwillingness to any visitings of -gratitude, or, indeed, to any other feeling than that which he had -himself avowed. A few hours' reflection had satisfied the young man of -the transcendent importance of securing Lord Aspenly; and by a -corresponding induction he had arrived at the conclusion to which his -father had already come--namely, that it was imperatively necessary by -all means to put an end effectually to his sister's correspondence with -O'Connor. To effect this object both were equally resolved; and with -respect to the means to be employed both were equally unscrupulous. -With Henry Ashwoode courage was constitutional, and art habitual. If, -therefore, either duplicity or daring could ensure success, he felt -that he must triumph; and, at all events, he was sufficiently impressed -with the importance of the object, to resolve to leave nothing untried -for its achievement. - -"You _are_ punctual, sir," said Sir Richard, glancing at his -richly-chased watch; "sit down; I have considered your suggestions of -this morning, and I am inclined to adopt them; it is most probable that -Mary, like the rest of her sex, will be taken by the splendour of the -proposal--fascinated--in short, as I said this morning--dazzled. Now, -whether she be or not--observe me, it shall be our object to make -O'Connor believe that she _is_ so. You will have his ear, and through -her maid, Carey, I can manage their correspondence; not a letter from -either can reach the other, without first meeting my eye. I am very -certain that the young fellow will lose no time in writing to her some -more of those passionate epistles, of which, as I told you, I have seen -a sample. I shall take care to have their letters _re_-written for the -future, before they come to hand; and it shall go hard, or between us -we shall manage to give each a very moderate opinion of the other's -constancy; thus the affair will--or rather must--die a natural -death--after all, the most effectual kind of mortality in such cases." - -"I called to-day upon the fellow," said the young man. "I made him out, -and without approaching the point of nearest interest, I have, -nevertheless, opened operations successfully--so far as a most -auspicious re-commencement of our acquaintance may be so accounted." - -"And, stranger still to say," rejoined the baronet, "I also encountered -him to-day; but only for some dozen seconds." - -"How!--saw O'Connor!" exclaimed young Ashwoode. - -"Yes, sir, O'Connor--Edmond O'Connor," repeated Sir Richard. "He was -coolly walking up to the house to see me, as it would seem; and I do -believe the fellow speaks truth--he _did_ see me, and that is all. I -fancy he will scarcely come here again uninvited; he said so pretty -plainly, and I believe the fellow has spirit enough to feel an -affront." - -"He did not see Mary?" inquired Henry. - -"I did not ask him, and don't choose to ask her; I don't mean to allude -to the subject in her presence," replied Sir Richard, quickly. "I -think--indeed I _know_--I can mar their plans better by appearing never -once to apprehend anything from O'Connor's pretensions. I have reasons, -too, for not wishing to deal harshly with Mary _at present_; we must -have no _scenes_, if possible. Were I to appear suspicious and uneasy, -it would put them on their guard. And now, upon the other point, did -you speak to Craven about the possibility of raising ten thousand -pounds on the Glenvarlogh property?" - -"He says it can be done very easily, if Mary joins you," replied the -young man; "but I have been thinking that if you ask her to sign any -deed, it might as well be one assigning over her interest absolutely to -you. Aspenly does not want a penny with her--in fact, from what fell -from him to-day, when I met him in town, I'm inclined to think he -believes that she has not a penny in the world; so she may as well make -it over to you, and then we can turn it all into money when and how we -please. I desired Craven to work night and day at the deeds, and have -them over by ten o'clock to-morrow morning." - -"You did quite rightly," rejoined the old gentleman. "I hardly expect -any opposition from the girl--at least no more than I can easily -frighten her out of. Should she prove sulky, however, I do not well -know where to turn: as to asking my brother Oliver, I might as well, or -_better_, ask a Jew broker; he hates me and mine with his whole heart; -and to say the truth, there is not much love lost between us. No, no, -there's nothing to be looked for in that quarter. I daresay we'll -manage one way or another--lead or drive to get Mary to sign the deed, -and if so, the ship rights again. Craven comes, you say, at ten -to-morrow?" - -"He engaged to be here at that hour with the deeds," repeated the young -man. - -"Well," said his father, yawning, "you have nothing more to say, nor I -neither--oblige me by withdrawing." So parted these congenial -relations. - -The past day had been an agitating one to Mary Ashwoode. Still suspense -was to be her doom, and the same alternations of hope and of despair -were again to rob her pillow of repose; yet even thus, happy was she in -comparison with what she must have been, had she but known the schemes -of which she was the unconscious subject. At this juncture we shall -leave the actors in this true tale, and conclude the chapter with the -close of day. - - - - -CHAPTER XIII. - -THE INTERVIEW--THE PARCHMENT--AND THE NOBLEMAN'S COACH. - - -Sir Richard Ashwoode had never in the whole course of his life denied -himself the indulgence of any passion or of any whim. From his -childhood upward he had never considered the feelings or comforts of -any living being but himself alone. As he advanced in life, this -selfishness had improved to a degree of hardness and coldness so -intense, that if ever he had felt a kindly impulse at any moment in his -existence, the very remembrance of it had entirely faded from his mind: -so that generosity, compassion, and natural affection were to him not -only unknown, but incredible. To him mankind seemed all either fools, -or such as he himself was. Without one particle of principle of any -kind, he had uniformly maintained in the world the character of an -honourable man. The ordinary rules of honesty and morality he regarded -as so many conventional sentiments, to which every gentleman -subscribed, as a matter of course, in public, but which in private he -had an unquestionable right to dispense with at his own convenience. He -was imperious, fiery, and unforgiving to the uttermost; but when he -conceived it advantageous to do so, he could practise as well as any -man the convenient art of masking malignity, hatred, and inveteracy -behind the pleasantest of all pleasant smiles. Capable of any secret -meanness for the sake of the smallest advantage to be gained by it, he -was yet full of fierce and overbearing pride; and although this world -was all in all to him, yet there never breathed a man who could on the -slightest provocation risk his life in mortal combat with more alacrity -and absolute _sang froid_ than Sir Richard Ashwoode. In his habits he -was unboundedly luxurious--in his expenditure prodigal to recklessness. -His own and his son's extravagance, which he had indulged from a kind -of pride, was now, however, beginning to make itself sorely felt in -formidable and rapidly accumulating pecuniary embarrassments. These had -served to embitter and exasperate a temper which at the best had never -been a very sweet one, and of whose ordinary pitch the reader may form -an estimate, when he hears that in the short glimpses which he has had -of Sir Richard, the baronet happened to be, owing to the circumstances -with which we have acquainted him, in extraordinarily good humour. - -Sir Richard had not married young; and when he did marry it was to pay -his debts. The lady of his choice was beautiful, accomplished, and an -heiress; and, won by his agreeability, and by his well-assumed -devotedness and passion, she yielded to the pressure of his suit. They -were married, and she gave birth successively to a son and a daughter. -Sir Richard's temper, as we have hinted, was not very placid, nor his -habits very domestic; nevertheless, the world thought the match -(putting his money difficulties out of the question) a very suitable -and a very desirable one, and took it for granted that the gay baronet -and his lady were just as happy as a fashionable man and wife ought to -be--and perhaps they were so; but, for all that, it happened that at -the end of some four years the young wife died of a broken heart. Some -strange scenes, it is said, followed between Sir Richard and the -brother of the deceased lady, Oliver French. It is believed that this -gentleman suspected the cause of Lady Ashwoode's death--at all events -he had ascertained that she had not been kindly used, and after one or -two interviews with the baronet, in which bitter words were exchanged, -the matter ended in a fierce and bloodily contested duel, in which the -baronet received three desperate wounds. His recovery was long -doubtful; but life burns strongly in some breasts; and, contrary to the -desponding predictions of his surgeons, the valuable life of Sir -Richard Ashwoode was prolonged to his family and friends. - -Since then, Sir Richard had by different agencies sought to bring about -a reconciliation with his brother-in-law, but without the smallest -success. Oliver French was a bachelor, and a very wealthy one. -Moreover, he had it in his power to dispose of his lands and money just -as he pleased. These circumstances had strongly impressed Sir Richard -with a conviction that quarrels among relations are not only unseemly, -but un-Christian. He was never in a more forgiving and forgetting mood. -He was willing even to make concessions--anything that could be -reasonably asked of him, and even more, he was ready to do--but all in -vain. Oliver was obdurate. He knew his man well. He saw and appreciated -the baronet's motives, and hated and despised him ten thousand times -more than ever. - -Repulsed in his first attempt, Sir Richard resolved to give his -adversary time to cool a little; and accordingly, after a lapse of -twelve or fourteen years, his son Henry being then a handsome lad, he -wrote to his brother-in-law a very long and touching epistle, in which -he proposed to send his son down to Ardgillagh, the place where the -alienated relative resided, with a portrait of his deceased lady, -which, of course, with no object less sacred, and to no relative less -near and respected, could he have induced himself to part. This, too, -was a total failure. Oliver French, Esquire, wrote back a very succinct -epistle, but one very full of unpleasant meaning. He said that the -portrait would be odious to him, inasmuch as it would be necessarily -associated in his mind with a marriage which had killed his sister, and -with persons whom he abhorred--that therefore he would not allow it -into his house. He stated, that to the motives which prompted his -attention he was wide awake--that he was, however, perfectly determined -that no person bearing the name or the blood of Sir Richard Ashwoode -should ever have one penny of his; adding, that the baronet could leave -his son, Mr. Henry Ashwoode, quite enough for a gentleman to live upon -respectably; and that, at all events, in his father's virtues the young -gentleman would inherit a legacy such as would insure him universal -respect, and a general welcome wherever he might happen to go, -excepting only one locality, called Ardgillagh. - -With the failure of this last attempt, of course, disappeared every -hope of success with the rich old bachelor; and the forgiving baronet -was forced to content himself, in the absence of all more substantial -rewards, with the consciousness of having done what was, under all the -circumstances, the most Christian thing he could have done, as well as -played the most knowing game, though unsuccessful, which he could have -played. - -Sir Richard Ashwoode limped downstairs to receive his intended -son-in-law, Lord Aspenly, on the day following the events which we have -detailed in our last and the preceding chapters. That nobleman had -intimated his intention to be with Sir Richard about noon. It was now -little more than ten, and the baronet was, nevertheless, restless and -fidgety. The room he occupied was a large parlour, commanding a view of -the approach to the house. Again and again he consulted his watch, and -as often hobbled over, as well as he could, to the window, where he -gazed in evident discontent down the long, straight avenue, with its -double row of fine old giant lime-trees. - -"Nearly half-past ten," muttered Sir Richard, to himself, for at his -desire he had been left absolutely alone--"ay, fully half-past, and the -fellow not come yet. No less than, two notes since eight this morning, -both of them with gratuitous mendacity renewing the appointment for ten -o'clock; and ten o'clock comes and goes, and half-an-hour more along -with it, and still no sign of Mr. Craven. If I had fixed ten o'clock to -pay his accursed, unconscionable bill of costs, he'd have been prowling -about the grounds from sunrise, and pounced upon me before the last -stroke of the clock had sounded." - -While thus the baronet was engaged in muttering his discontent, and -venting secret imprecations on the whole race of attorneys, a vehicle -rolled up to the hall-door. The bell pealed, and the knocker thundered, -and in a moment a servant entered, and announced Mr. Craven--a -square-built man of low stature, wearing his own long, grizzled hair -instead of a wig--having a florid complexion, hooked nose, beetle -brows, and long-cut, Jewish, black eyes, set close under the bridge of -his nose--who stepped with a velvet tread into the room. An unvarying -smile sate upon his thin lips, and about his whole air and manner there -was a certain indescribable sanctimoniousness, which was rather -enhanced by the puritanical plainness of his attire. - -"Sir Richard, I beg pardon--rather late, I fear," said he, in a dulcet, -insinuating tone--"hard work, nevertheless, I do assure -you--ninety-seven skins--splendidly engrossed--quite a treat--five of -my young men up all night--I have got one of them outside to witness it -along with me. Some reading in the thing, I promise you; but I hope--I -_do_ hope, I am not very late?" - -"Not at all--not at all, my dear Mr. Craven," said Sir Richard, with -his most engaging smile; for, as we have hinted, "dear Mr. Craven" had -not made the science of conveyancing peculiarly cheap in practice to -the baronet, who accordingly owed him more costs than it would have -been quite convenient to pay upon a short notice--"I'll just, with your -assistance, glance through these parchments, though to do so be but a -matter of form. Pray take a chair beside me--there. Now then to -business." - -Accordingly to business they went. Practice, they say, makes perfect, -and the baronet had had, unfortunately for himself, a great deal of it -in such matters during the course of his life. He knew how to read a -deed as well as the most experienced counsel at the Irish bar, and was -able consequently to detect with wonderfully little rummaging and -fumbling in the ninety-seven skins of closely written verbiage, the -seven lines of sense which they enveloped. Little more than -half-an-hour had therefore satisfied Sir Richard that the mass of -parchment before him, after reciting with very considerable accuracy -the deeds and process by which the lands of Glenvarlogh were settled -upon his daughter, went on to state that for and in consideration of -the sum of five shillings, good and lawful money, she, being past the -age of twenty-one, in every possible phrase and by every word which -tautology could accumulate, handed over the said lands, absolutely to -her father, Sir Richard Ashwoode, Bart., of Morley Court, in the county -of Dublin, to have, and to hold, and to make ducks and drakes of, to -the end of time, constantly affirming at the end of every sentence that -she was led to do all this for and in consideration of the sum of five -shillings, good and lawful money. As soon as Sir Richard had seen all -this, which was, as we have said, in little more than half-an-hour, he -pulled the bell, and courteously informing Mr. Craven, the immortal -author of the interesting document which he had just perused, that he -would find chocolate and other refreshments in the library, and -intimating that he would perhaps disturb him in about ten minutes, he -consigned that gentleman to the guidance of the servant, whom he also -directed to summon Miss Ashwoode to his presence. - -"Her signing this deed," thought he, as he awaited her arrival, "will -make her absolutely dependent upon me--it will make rebellion, -resistance, murmuring, impossible; she then _must_ do as I would have -her, or--Ah? my dear child," exclaimed the baronet, as his daughter -entered the room, addressing her in the sweetest imaginable voice, and -instantaneously dismissing the sinister menace which had sat upon his -countenance, and clothing it instead as suddenly with an absolute -radiance of affection, "come here and kiss me and sit down by my -side--are you well to-day? you look pale--you smile--well, well! it -cannot be anything _very_ bad. You shall run out just now with Emily. -But first, I must talk with you for a little, and, strange enough, on -business too." The old gentleman paused for an instant to arrange the -order of his address, and then continued. "Mary, I will tell you -frankly more of my affairs than I have told to almost any person -breathing. In my early days, and indeed _after_ my marriage, I was far, -_far_ too careless in money matters. I involved myself considerably, -and owing to various circumstances, tiresome now to dwell upon, I have -never been able to extricate myself from these difficulties. Henry too, -your brother, is fearfully prodigal--fearfully; and has within the last -three or four years enormously aggravated my embarrassments, and of -course multiplied my anxieties most grievously, most distractingly. I -feel that my spirits are gone, my health declining, and, worse than -all, my temper, yes--my _temper_ soured. You do not know, you cannot -know, how bitterly I feel, with what intense pain, and sorrow, and -contrition, and--and _remorse_, I reflect upon those bursts of -ill-temper, of acrimony, of passion, to which, spite of every -resistance, I am becoming every day more and more prone." Here the -baronet paused to call up a look of compunctious anguish, an effort in -which he was considerably assisted by an acute twinge in his great toe. - -"Yes," he continued, when the pain had subsided, "I am now growing old, -I am breaking very fast, sinking, I feel it--I cannot be very long a -trouble to anybody--embarrassments are closing around me on all -sides--I have not the means of extricating myself--despondency, despair -have come upon me, and with them loss of spirits, loss of health, of -strength, of everything which makes life a blessing; and, all these -privations rendered more horrible, more agonizing, by the reflection -that my ill-humour, my peevish temper, are continually taxing the -patience, wounding the feelings, perhaps alienating the affections of -those who are nearest and dearest to me." - -Here the baronet became _very_ much affected; but, lest his agitation -should be seen, he turned his head away, while he grasped his -daughter's hand convulsively: the poor girl covered his with kisses. He -had wrung her very heart. - -"There is one course," continued he, "by adopting which I might -extricate myself from all my difficulties"--here he raised his eyes -with a haggard expression, and glared wildly along the cornice--"but I -confess I have great hesitation in leaving _you_." - -He wrung her hand very hard, and groaned slightly. - -"Father, dear father," said she, "do not speak thus--do not--you -frighten me." - -"I was wrong, my dear child, to tell you of struggles of which none but -myself ought to have known anything," said the baronet, gloomily. "One -person indeed has the power to assist, I may say, to _save_ me." - -"And who is that person, father?" asked the girl. - -"Yourself," replied Sir Richard, emphatically. - -"How?--I!" said she, turning very pale, for a dreadful suspicion -crossed her mind--"how can _I_ help you, father?" - -The old gentleman explained briefly; and the girl, relieved of her -worst fears, started joyously from her seat, clapped her hands together -with gladness, and, throwing her arms about her father's neck, -exclaimed,-- - -"And is that all?--oh, father; why did you defer telling me so long? -you ought to have known how delighted I would have been to do anything -for you; indeed you ought; tell them to get the papers ready -immediately." - -"They _are_ ready, my dear," said Sir Richard, recovering his -self-possession wonderfully, and ringing the bell with a good deal of -hurry--for he fully acknowledged the wisdom of the old proverb, which -inculcates the expediency of striking while the iron's hot--"your -brother had them prepared yesterday, I believe. Inform Mr. Craven," he -continued, addressing the servant, "that I would be very glad to see -him now, and say he may as well bring in the young gentleman who has -accompanied him." - -Mr. Craven accordingly appeared, and the "young gentleman," who had but -one eye, and a very seedy coat, entered along with him. The latter -personage bustled about a good deal, slapped the deeds very -emphatically down on the table, and rumpled the parchments sonorously, -looked about for pen and ink, set a chair before the document, and then -held one side of the parchment, while Mr. Craven screwed his knuckles -down upon the other, and the parties forthwith signed; whereupon Mr. -Craven and the one-eyed young gentleman both sat down, and began to -sign away with a great deal of scratching and flourishing on the places -allotted for witnesses; after all which, Mr. Craven, raising himself -with a smile, told Miss Ashwoode, facetiously, that the Chancellor -could not have done so much for the deed as she had done; and the -one-eyed young gentleman held his nose contemplatively between his -finger and thumb, and reviewed the signatures with his solitary optic. - -Miss Ashwoode then withdrew, and Mr. Craven and the "young gentleman" -made their bows. Sir Richard beckoned to Mr. Craven, and he glided back -and closed the door, having commanded the "young gentleman" to see if -the coach was ready. - -"You see, Mr. Craven," said Sir Richard, who, spite of all his -philosophy, felt a little ashamed even that the attorney should have -seen the transaction which had just been completed--"you see, sir, I -may as well tell you candidly: my daughter, who has just signed this -deed, is about immediately to be married to Lord Aspenly; _he_ kindly -offered to lend me some fifteen thousand pounds, or thereabouts, and I -converted this offer (which I, of course, accepted), into the -assignment, from his bride, that is to be, of this little property, -giving, of course, to his lordship my personal security for the debt -which I consider as owed to him: this arrangement his lordship -preferred as the most convenient possible. I thought it right, in -strict confidence, of course, to explain the real state of the case to -you, as at first sight the thing looks selfish, and I do not wish to -stand worse in my friends' books than I actually deserve to do." This -was spoken with Sir Richard's most engaging smile, and Mr. Craven -smiled in return, most artlessly--at the same time he mentally -ejaculated, "d----d sly!" "You'll bring this security, my dear Mr. -Craven," continued the baronet, "into the market with all dispatch--do -you think you can manage twenty thousand upon it?" - -"I fear not more than fourteen, or perhaps, sixteen, with an effort. I -do not think Glenvarlogh would carry much more--I fear not; but rely -upon me, Sir Richard; I'll do everything that can be done--at all -events, I'll lose no time about it, depend upon it--I may as well take -this deed along with me--I have the rest; and title is very--_very_ -satisfactory--good-morning, Sir Richard," and the man of parchments -withdrew, leaving Sir Richard in a more benevolent mood than he had -experienced for many a long day. - -The attorney had not been many seconds gone, when a second vehicle -thundered up to the door, and a perfect storm of knocking and ringing -announced the arrival of Lord Aspenly himself. - - - - -CHAPTER XIV. - -ABOUT A CERTAIN GARDEN AND A DAMSEL--AND ALSO CONCERNING A LETTER AND A -RED LEATHERN BOX. - - -Several days passed smoothly away--Lord Aspenly was a perfect paragon -of politeness; but although his manner invariably assumed a peculiar -tenderness whenever he approached Miss Ashwoode, yet that young lady -remained in happy ignorance of his real intentions. She saw before her -a grotesque old fop, who might without any extraordinary parental -precocity have very easily been her grandfather, and in his airs and -graces, his rappee and his rouge (for his lordship condescended to -borrow a few attractions from art), and in the thousand-and-one _et -ceteras_ of foppery which were accumulated, with great exactitude and -precision, on and about his little person, she beheld nothing more than -so many indications of obstinate and inveterate celibacy, and, of -course, interpreted the exquisite attentions which were meant to -enchain her young heart, merely as so much of that formal target -practice in love's archery, in which gallant single gentlemen of -seventy, or thereabout, will sometimes indulge themselves. Emily -Copland, however, at a glance, saw and understood the nature of Lord -Aspenly's attentions, and she saw just as clearly the intended parts -and the real position of the other actors in this somewhat ill-assorted -drama, and thereupon she took counsel with herself, like a wise damsel, -and arrived at the conclusion, that with some little management she -might, very possibly, play her own cards to advantage among them. - -We must here, however, glance for a few minutes at some of the -subordinate agents in our narrative, whose interposition, nevertheless, -deeply, as well as permanently, affected the destinies of more -important personages. - -It was the habit of the beautiful Mistress Betsy Carey, every morning, -weather permitting, to enjoy a ramble in the grounds of Morley Court; -and as chance (of course it was chance) would have it, this early -ramble invariably led her through several quiet fields, and over a -stile, into a prettily-situated, but neglected flower-garden, which was -now, however, undergoing a thorough reform, according to the Dutch -taste, under the presiding inspiration of Tobias Potts. Now Tobias -Potts was a widower, having been in the course of his life twice -disencumbered. The last Mrs. Potts had disappeared some five winters -since, and Tobias was now well stricken in years; he possessed the eyes -of an owl, and the complexion of a turkey-cock, and was, moreover, -extremely hard of hearing, and, withal, a man of few words; he was, -however, hale, upright, and burly--perfectly sound in wind and limb, -and free from vice and children--had a snug domicile, consisting of two -rooms and a loft, enjoyed a comfortable salary, and had, it was -confidently rumoured, put by a good round sum of money somewhere or -other. It therefore struck Mrs. Carey very forcibly, that to be Mrs. -Potts was a position worth attaining; and accordingly, without -incurring any suspicion--for the young women generally regarded Potts -with awe, and the young men with contempt--she began, according to the -expressive phrase in such case made and provided, to set her cap at -Tobias. - -In this, his usual haunt, she discovered the object of her search, -busily employed in superintending the construction of a terrace walk, -and issuing his orders with the brevity, decision, and clearness of a -consummate gardener. - -"Good-morning, Mr. Potts," said the charming Betsy. Mr. Potts did not -hear. "Good-morning, Mr. Potts," repeated the damsel, raising her voice -to a scream. - -Tobias touched his hat with a gruff acknowledgment. - -"Well, but how beautiful you are doing it," shouted the handmaid again, -gazing rapturously upon the red earthen rampart, in which none but the -eye of an artist could have detected the rudiments of a terrace, "it's -wonderful neat, all must allow, and indeed it puzzles my head to think -how you can think of it all; it _is_ now, _raly_ elegant, so it is." - -Tobias did not reply, and the maiden continued, with a sentimental air, -and still hallooing at the top of her voice-- - -"Well, of all the trades that is--and big and little, there's a plenty -of them--there's none I'd choose, if I was a man, before the trade of a -gardener." - -"No, you would not, _I'm_ sure," was the laconic reply. - -"Oh, but I declare and purtest _I would_ though," bawled the young -woman; "for gardeners, old or young, is always so good-humoured, and -pleasant, and fresh-like. Oh, dear, but I would like to be a gardener." - -"Not an _old_ one, howsomever," growled Mr. Potts. - -"Yes, but I would though, I declare and purtest to goodness gracious," -persisted the nymph; "I'd rather of the two perfer to be an _old_ -gardener" (this was a bold stroke of oratory; but Potts did not hear -it); "I'd rather be an _old_ gardener," she screamed a second time; -"I'd rather be an _old_ gardener of the two, so I would." - -"That's more than _I_ would," replied Potts, very abruptly, and with an -air of uncommon asperity, for he silently cherished a lingering belief -in his own juvenility, and not the less obstinately that it was fast -becoming desperate--a peculiarity of which, unfortunately, until that -moment the damsel had never been apprised. This, therefore, was a turn -which a good deal disconcerted the young woman, especially as she -thought she detected a satirical leer upon the countenance of a young -man in crazy inexpressibles, who was trundling a wheelbarrow in the -immediate vicinity; she accordingly exclaimed not loud enough for -Tobias, but quite loud enough for the young man in the infirm breeches -to hear,-- - -"What an old fool. I purtest it's meat and drink to me to tease him--so -it is;" and with a forced giggle she tripped lightly away to retrace -her steps towards the house. - -As she approached the stile we have mentioned, she thought she -distinguished what appeared to be the inarticulate murmurings of some -subterranean voice almost beneath her feet. A good deal startled at so -prodigious a phenomenon, she stopped short, and immediately heard the -following brief apostrophe delivered in a rich brogue:-- - -"Aiqually beautiful and engaging--vartuous Betsy Carey--listen to the -voice of tindher emotion." - -The party addressed looked with some alarm in all directions for any -visible intimation of the speaker's presence, but in vain. At length, -from among an unusually thick and luxuriant tuft of docks and other -weeds, which grew at the edge of a ditch close by, she beheld something -red emerging, which in a few moments she clearly perceived to be the -classical countenance of Larry Toole. - -"The Lord _purtect_ us all, Mr. Toole. Why in the world do you frighten -people this way?" ejaculated the nymph, rather shrilly. - -"Whist! most evangelical iv women," exclaimed Larry in a low key, and -looking round suspiciously--"whisht! or we are ruined." - -"La! Mr. Laurence, what _are_ you after?" rejoined the damsel, with a -good deal of asperity. "I'll have you to know I'm not used to talk with -a man that's squat in a ditch, and his head in a dock plant. That's not -the way for to come up to an honest woman, sir--no more it is." - -"I'd live ten years in a ditch, and die in a dock plant," replied Larry -with enthusiasm, "for one sight iv you." - -"And is that what brought you here?" replied she, with a toss of her -head. "I purtest some people's quite overbearing, so they are, and -knows no bounds." - -"Stop a minute, most beautiful bayin'--for one instant minute pay -attintion," exclaimed Mr. Toole, eagerly, for he perceived that she had -commenced her retreat. "Tare an' owns! divine crature, it's not _goin'_ -you are?" - -"I have no notions, good or bad, Mr. Toole," replied the young lady, -with great volubility and dignity, "and no idaya in the wide world for -to be standing here prating, and talking, and losing my time with such -as you--if my business is neglected, it is not on your back the blame -will light. I have my work, and my duty, and my business to mind, and -if I do not mind them, no one else will do it for me; and I am -astonished and surprised beyant telling, so I am, at the impittence of -some people, thinking that the likes of me has nothing else to be doing -but listening to them discoorsing in a dirty ditch, and more particular -when their conduct has been sich as some people's that is old enough at -any rate to know better." - -The fair handmaiden had now resumed her retreat; so that Larry, having -raised himself from his lowly hiding-place, was obliged to follow for -some twenty yards before he again came up with her. - -"Wait one half second--stop a bit, for the Lord's sake," exclaimed he, -with most earnest energy. - -"Well, wonst for all, Mr. Laurence," exclaimed Mistress Carey severely, -"what _is_ your business with me?" - -"Jist this," rejoined Larry, with a mysterious wink, and lowering his -voice--"a letter to the young mistress from"--here he glanced jealously -round, and then bringing himself close beside her, he whispered in her -ear--"from Mr. O'Connor--whisht--not a word--into her own hand, mind." - -The young woman took the letter, read the superscription, and forthwith -placed it in her bosom, and rearranged her kerchief. - -"Never fear--never fear," said she, "Miss Mary shall have it in half an -hour. And how," added she, maliciously, "_is_ Mr. O'Connor? He is a -lovely gentleman, is not he?" - -"He's uncommonly well in health, the Lord be praised," replied Mr. -Toole, with very unaccountable severity. - -"Well, for my part," continued the girl, "I never seen the man yet to -put beside him--unless, indeed, the young master may be. He's a very -pretty young man--and so shocking agreeable." - -Mr. Toole nodded a pettish assent, coughed, muttered something to -himself, and then inquired when he should come for an answer. - -"I'll have an answer to-morrow morning--maybe this evening," pursued -she; "but do not be coming so close up to the house. Who knows who -might be on our backs in an instant here? I'll walk down whenever I get -it to the two mulberries at the old gate; and I'll go there either in -the morning at this hour, or else a little before supper-time in the -evening." - -Mr. Toole, having gazed rapturously at the object of his tenderest -aspirations during the delivery of this address, was at its termination -so far transported by his feelings, as absolutely to make a kind of -indistinct and flurried attempt to kiss her. - -"Well, I purtest, this is overbearing," exclaimed the virgin; and at -the same time bestowing Mr. Toole a sound box on the ear, she tripped -lightly toward the house, leaving her admirer a prey to what are -usually termed conflicting emotions. - -When Sir Richard returned to his dressing-room at about noon, to -prepare for dinner, he had hardly walked to the toilet, and rung for -his Italian servant, when a knock was heard at his chamber door, and, -in obedience to his summons, Mistress Carey entered. - -"Well, Carey," inquired the baronet, as soon as she had appeared, "do -you bring me any news?" - -The lady's-maid closed the door carefully. - -"News?" she repeated. "Indeed, but I do, Sir Richard--and bad news, I'm -afeard, sir. Mr. O'Connor has written a great long letter to my -mistress, if you please, sir." - -"Have you gotten it?" inquired the baronet, quickly. - -"Yes, sir," rejoined she, "safe and sound here in my breast, Sir -Richard." - -"Your young mistress has not opened it--or read it?" inquired he. - -"Oh, dear! Sir Richard, it is after all you said to me only the other -day," rejoined she, in virtuous horror. "I hope I know my place better -than to be fetching and carrying notes and letters, and all soarts, -unnonst to my master. Don't I know, sir, very well how that you're the -best judge what's fitting and what isn't for the sight of your own -precious child? and wouldn't I be very unnatural, and very hardened and -ungrateful, if I was to be making secrets in the family, and if any -ill-will or misfortunes was to come out of it? I purtest I never--never -would forgive myself--never--no more I ought--never." - -Here Mistress Carey absolutely wept. - -"Give me the letter," said Sir Richard, drily. - -The damsel handed it to him; and he, having glanced at the seal and the -address, deposited the document safely in a small leathern box which -stood upon his toilet, and having locked it safely therein, he turned -to the maid, and patting her on the cheek with a smile, he remarked,-- - -"Be a good girl, Carey, and you shall find you have consulted your -interest best." - -Here Mistress Carey was about to do justice to her own -disinterestedness in a very strong protestation, but the baronet -checked her with an impatient wave of the hand, and continued,-- - -"Say not on any account one word to any person touching this letter, -until you have your directions from me. Stay--this will buy you a -ribbon. Good-bye--be a good girl." - -So saying, the baronet placed a guinea in the girl's hand, which, with -a courtesy, having transferred to her pocket, she withdrew rather -hurriedly, for she heard the valet in the next room. - - - - -CHAPTER XV. - -THE TRAITOR. - - -Upon the day following, O'Connor had not yet received any answer to his -letter. He was, however, not a little surprised instead to receive a -second visit from young Ashwoode. - -"I am very glad, my dear O'Connor," said the young man as he entered, -"to have found you alone. I have been wishing very much for this -opportunity, and was half afraid as I came upstairs that I should again -have been disappointed. The fact is, I wish much to speak to you upon a -subject of great difficulty and delicacy--one in which, however, I -naturally feel so strong an interest, that I may speak to you upon it, -and freely, too, without impertinence. I allude to your attachment to -my sister. Do not imagine, my dear O'Connor, that I am going to lecture -you on prudence and all that; and above all, my dear fellow, do not -think I want to tax your confidence more deeply than you are willing I -should; I know quite enough for all I would suggest; I know the plain -fact that you love my sister--I have long known it, and this is -enough." - -"Well, sir, what follows?" said O'Connor, dejectedly. - -"Do not call me _sir_--call me friend--fellow--fool--anything you -please but that," replied Ashwoode, kindly; and after a brief pause, he -continued: "I need not, and cannot disguise it from you, that I was -much opposed to this, and vexed extremely at the girl's encouragement -of what I considered a most imprudent suit. I have, however, learned to -think differently--very differently. After all my littlenesses and -pettishness, for which you must have, if not abhorred, at least -despised me from your very heart--after all this, I say, your noble -conduct in risking your own life to save my worthless blood is what I -never can enough admire, and honour, and thank." Here he grasped -O'Connor's hand, and shook it warmly. "After this, I tell you, -O'Connor, that were there offered to me, on my sister's behoof, on the -one side the most brilliant alliance in wealth and rank that ever -ambition dreamed of, and upon the other side this hand of yours, I -would, so heaven is my witness, forego every allurement of titles, -rank, and riches, and give my sister to you. I have come here, -O'Connor, frankly to offer you my aid and advice--to prove to you my -sincerity, and, if possible, to realize your wishes." - -O'Connor could hardly believe his senses. Here was the man who, -scarcely six days since, he felt assured, would more readily have -suffered him to thrust him through the body than consent to his -marriage with Mary Ashwoode, now not merely consenting to it, but -offering cordially and spontaneously all the assistance in his power -towards effecting that very object. Had he heard him aright? One look -at his expressive face--the kindly pressure of his hand--everything -assured him that he had justly comprehended all that Ashwoode had -spoken, and a glow of hope, warmer than had visited him for years, -cheered his heart. - -"In the meantime," continued Ashwoode, "I must tell you exactly how -matters stand at Morley Court. The Earl of Aspenly, of whom you may -have heard, is paying his addresses to my sister." - -"The Earl of Aspenly," echoed O'Connor, slightly colouring. "I had not -heard of this before--she did not name him." - -"Yet she has known it a good while," returned Ashwoode, with -well-affected surprise--"a month, I believe, or more. He's now at -Morley Court, and means to make some stay--are you sure she never -mentioned him?" - -"Titled, and, of course, rich," said O'Connor, scarce hearing the -question. "Why should I have heard of this by chance, and from -another--why this reserve--this silence?" - -"Nay, nay," replied Henry, "you must not run away with the matter thus. -Mary may have forgotten it, _or_--or not liked to tell you--not cared -to give you needless uneasiness." - -"I wish she had--I wish she had--I am--I am, indeed, Ashwoode, very, -very unhappy," said O'Connor, with extreme dejection. "Forgive -me--forgive my folly, since folly it seems--I fear I weary you." - -"Well, well, since it seems you have _not_ heard of it," rejoined -Henry, carelessly throwing himself back in his chair, "you may as well -learn it now--not that there is any real cause of alarm in the matter, -as I shall presently show you, but simply that you may understand the -position of the enemy. Lord Aspenly, then, is at present at Morley -Court, where he is received as Mary's lover--observe me, only as her -lover--not yet, and I trust _never_ as her _accepted_ lover." - -"Go on--pray go on," said O'Connor, with suppressed but agonized -anxiety. - -"Now, though my father is very hot about the match," resumed his -visitor, "it may appear strange enough to you that _I_ never was. -There are a few--a very few--advantages in the matter, of course, -viewing it merely in its worldly aspect. But Lord Aspenly's property -is a good deal embarrassed, and he is of violently Whig politics and -connections, the very thing most hated by my old Tory uncle, Oliver -French, whom my father has been anxious to cultivate; besides, the -disparity in years is so very great that it is ridiculous--I might -almost say _indecent_--and this even in point of family standing, and -indeed of reputation, putting aside every better consideration, is -objectionable. I have urged all these things upon my father, and -perhaps we should not find any insurmountable obstacle _there_; but -the fact is, there is another difficulty, one of which until this -morning I never dreamed--the most whimsical difficulty imaginable." -Here the young man raised his eyebrows, and laughed faintly, while he -looked upon the floor, and O'Connor, with increasing earnestness, -implored him to proceed. "It appears so very absurd and perverse an -obstacle," continued Ashwoode, with a very quizzical expression, "that -one does not exactly know how to encounter it--to say the truth, I -think that the girl is a little--perhaps the least imaginable -degree--taken--dazzled--caught by the notion of being a countess; it's -very natural, you know, but then I would have expected better from -her." - -"By heavens, it is impossible!" exclaimed O'Connor, starting to his -feet; "I cannot believe it; you must, indeed, my dear Ashwoode, you -_must_ have been deceived." - -"Well, then," rejoined the young man, "I have lost my skill in reading -young ladies' minds--that's all; but even though I should be right--and -never believe me if I am _not_ right--it does not follow that the giddy -whim won't pass away just as suddenly as it came; her most lasting -impressions--with, I should hope, one exception--were never very -enduring. I have been talking to her for nearly half an hour this -morning--laughing with her about Lord Aspenly's suit, and building -castles in the air about what she will and what she won't do when she's -a countess. But, by the way, how did you let her know that you intend -returning to France at the end of this month, only, as she told me, -however, for a few weeks? She mentioned it yesterday incidentally. -Well, it is a comfort that I hear your secrets, though _you_ won't -entrust them to me. But do not, my dear fellow--_do_ not look so very -black--you very much overrate the firmness of women's minds, and -greatly indeed exaggerate that of my sister's character if you believe -that this vexatious whim which has entered her giddy pate will remain -there longer than a week. The simple fact is that the excitement and -bustle of all this has produced an unusual flow of high spirits, which -will, of course, subside with the novelty of the occasion. Pshaw! why -so cast down?--there is nothing in the matter to surprise one--the -caprice of women knows do rule. I tell you I would almost stake my -reputation as a prophet, that when this giddy excitement passes away, -her feelings will return to their old channel." O'Connor still paced -the room in silence. "Meanwhile," continued the young man, "if anything -occur to you--if I can be useful to you in any way, command me -absolutely, and till you see me next, take heart of grace." He grasped -O'Connor's hand--it was cold as clay; and bidding him farewell, once -more took his departure. - -"Well," thought he, as he threw his leg across his high-bred gelding at -the inn door, "I have shot the first shaft home." - -And so he had, for the heart at which it was directed, unfenced by -suspicion, lay open to his traitorous practices. O'Connor's letter, an -urgent and a touching one, was still unanswered; it never for a moment -crossed his mind that it had not reached the hand for which it was -intended. The maid who had faithfully delivered all the letters which -had passed between them had herself received it; and young Ashwoode had -but the moment before mentioned, from his sister's lips, the subject on -which it was written--his meditated departure for France. This, too, it -appeared, she had spoken of in the midst of gay and light-hearted -trilling, and projects of approaching magnificence and dissipation with -his rich and noble rival. Twice since the delivery of that letter had -his servant seen Miss Ashwoode's maid; and in the communicative -colloquy which had ensued she had told--no doubt according to -well-planned instructions--how gay and unusually merry her mistress -was, and how she passed whole hours at her toilet, and the rest of her -time in the companionship of Lord Aspenly--so that between his -lordship's society, and her own preparations for it, she had scarcely -allowed herself time to read the letter in question, much less to -answer it. - -All these things served to fill O'Connor's mind with vague but -agonizing doubts--doubts which he vainly strove to combat; fears which -had not their birth in an alarmed imagination, but which, alas! were -but too surely approved by reason. The notion of a systematic plot, -embracing so many agents, and conducted with such deep and hellish -hypocrisy, with the sole purpose of destroying affections the most -beautiful, and of alienating hearts the truest, was a thought so -monstrous and unnatural that it never for a second flashed upon his -mind; still his heart struggled strongly against despair. Spite of all -that looked gloomy in what he saw--spite of the boding suggestions of -his worst fears, he would not believe her false to him--that she who -had so long and so well loved and trusted him--she whose gentle heart -he knew unchanged and unchilled by years, and distance, and -misfortunes--that she should, after all, have fallen away from him, and -given up that heart, which once was his, to vanity and the hollow -glitter of the world--this he could hardly bring himself to believe, -yet what was he to think? alas! what? - - - - -CHAPTER XVI. - -SHOWING SIGNOR PARUCCI ALONE WITH THE WIG-BLOCKS--THE BARONET'S -HAND-BELL AND THE ITALIAN'S TASK. - - -Morley Court was a queer old building--very large and very irregular. -The main part of the dwelling, and what appeared to be the original -nucleus, upon which after-additions had grown like fantastic -incrustations, was built of deep-red brick, with many recesses and -projections and gables, and tall and grotesquely-shaped chimneys, and -having broad, jutting, heavily-sashed windows, such as belonged to -Henry the Eighth's time, to which period the origin of the building -was, with sufficient probability, referred. The great avenue, which -extended in a direct line to more than the long half of an Irish mile, -led through double rows of splendid old lime-trees, some thirty paces -apart, and arching in a vast and shadowy groining overhead, to the -front of the building. To the rearward extended the rambling additions -which necessity or caprice had from time to time suggested, as the -place, in the lapse of years, passed into the hands of different -masters. One of these excrescences, a quaint little prominence, with a -fanciful gable and chimney of its own, jutted pleasantly out upon the -green sward, courting the friendly shelter of the wild and graceful -trees, and from its casement commanding through the parting boughs no -views but those of quiet fields, distant woodlands, and the far-off -blue hills. This portion of the building contained in the upper story -one small room, to the full as oddly shaped as the outer casing of -fantastic masonry in which it was inclosed--the door opened upon a back -staircase which led from the lower apartments to Sir Richard's -dressing-room; and partly owing to this convenient arrangement, and -partly perhaps to the comfort and seclusion of the chamber itself, it -had been long appropriated to the exclusive occupation of Signor Jacopo -Parucci, Sir Richard's valet and confidential servant. This man was, as -his name would imply, an Italian. Sir Richard had picked him up, some -thirty years before the period at which we have dated our story, in -Naples, where it was said the baronet had received from him very -important instructions in the inner mysteries of that golden science -which converts chance into certainty--a science in which Sir Richard -was said to have become a masterly proficient; and indeed so loudly had -fame begun to bruit his excellence therein, that he found it at last -necessary, or at least highly advisable, to forego the fascinations of -the gaming-table, and to bid to the worship of fortune an eternal -farewell, just at the moment when the fickle goddess promised with -golden profusion to reward his devotion. - -Whatever his reason was, Sir Richard had been to this man a good -master; he had, it was said, and not without reason, enriched him; and, -moreover, it was a strange fact, that in all his capricious and savage -moods, from whose consequences not only his servants but his own -children had no exemption, he had never once treated this person -otherwise than with the most marked civility. What the man's services -had actually been, and to what secret influence he owed the close and -confidential terms upon which he unquestionably stood with Sir Richard, -these things were mysteries, and, of course, furnished inexhaustible -matter of scandalous speculation among the baronet's dependents and -most intimate friends. - -The room of which we speak was Parucci's snuggery. It contained in a -recess behind the door that gentleman's bed--a plain, low, uncurtained -couch; and variously disposed about the apartment an abundance of -furniture of much better kind; the recess of the window was filled by a -kind of squat press, which was constructed in the lower part, and which -contained, as certain adventurous chambermaids averred, having peeped -into its dim recesses when some precious opportunity presented itself, -among other shadowy shapes, the forms of certain flasks and bottles -with long necks, and several tall glasses of different dimensions. Two -or three tables of various sizes of dark shining wood, with legs after -the fashion of the nether limbs of hippogriffs and fauns, seemed about -to walk from their places, and to stamp and claw at random about the -floor. A large, old press of polished oak, with spiral pillars of the -same flanking it in front, contained the more precious articles of -Signor Parucci's wardrobe. Close beside it, in a small recess, stood a -set of shelves, on which were piled various matters, literary and -otherwise, among which perhaps none were disturbed twice in the year, -with the exception of six or eight packs of cards, with which, for old -associations' sake, Signor Jacopo used to amuse himself now and again -in his solitary hours. - -On one of the tables stood two blocks supporting each a flowing black -peruke, which it was almost the only duty of the tenant of this -interesting sanctuary to tend, and trim, and curl. Upon the dusky -tapestry were pinned several coloured prints, somewhat dimmed by time, -but evidently of very equivocal morality. A birding-piece and a -fragment of a fishing-rod covered with dust, neither of which Signor -Parucci had ever touched for the last twenty years, were suspended over -the mantelpiece; and upon the side of the recess, and fully lighted by -the window, in attestation of his gentler and more refined pursuits, -hung a dingy old guitar apparently still in use, for the strings, -though a good deal cobbled and knotted, were perfect in number. A huge, -high-backed, well-stuffed chair, in which a man might lie as snugly as -a kernel in its shell, was placed at the window, and in it reclined the -presiding genius of the place himself, with his legs elevated so as to -rest upon the broad window-sill, formed by the roof of the mysterious -press which we have already mentioned. The Italian was a little man, -very slight, with long hair, a good deal grizzled, flowing upon his -shoulders; he had a sallow complexion and thin hooked nose, piercing -black eyes, lean cheeks, and sharp chin--and altogether a lank, -attenuated, and somewhat intellectual cast of face, with, however, a -certain expression of malice and cunning about the leer of his eye, as -well as in the character of his thin and colourless lip, which made him -by no means a very pleasant object to look upon. - -"Fine weather--almost Italy," said the little man, lazily pushing open -the casement with his foot. "I am surprise, good, dear, sweet Sir -Richard, his bell is stop so long quiet. Why is it not go ding, ding, -dingeri, dingeri, ding-a-ding, ding, as usual. Damnation! what do I -care he ring de bell and I leesten. We are not always young, and I must -be allow to be a leetle deaf when he is allow to be a leetle gouty. -Gode blace my body, how hot is de sun. Come down here, leer of -Apollo--come to my arm, meestress of my heart--Orpheus' leer, come -queekly." This was addressed to the ancient instrument of music which -we have already mentioned, and the invitation was accompanied by an -appropriate elevation of his two little legs, which he raised until he -gently closed his feet upon the sides of the "leer of Apollo," which, -with a good deal of dexterity, he unhung from its peg, and conveyed -within reach of his hand. He cast a look of fond admiration at its -dingy and time-dried face, and forthwith, his heels still resting upon -the window-sill, he was soon thrumming a tinkling symphony, none of the -most harmonious, and then, with uncommon zeal, he began, to his own -accompaniment, to sing some ditty of Italian love. While engaged in -this refined and touching employment, he espied, with unutterable -indignation, a young urchin, who, attracted by the sounds of his -amorous minstrelsy, and with a view to torment the performer, who was -an extremely unpopular personage, had stationed himself at a little -distance before the casement, and accompanied the vocal performance of -the Italian with the most hideous grimaces, and the most absurd and -insulting gesticulations. - -Signor Parucci would have given a good round sum to have had the -engaging boy by the ears; but this he knew was out of the question; he -therefore (for he was a philosopher) played and sung on without -evincing the smallest consciousness of what was going forward. His -plans of vengeance were, however, speedily devised and no less quickly -executed. There lay upon the window-sill a fragment of biscuit, which -in the course of an ecstatic flourish the little man kicked carelessly -over. The bait had hardly touched the ground beneath the casement when -Jacopo, continuing to play and sing the while, and apparently -unconscious of anything but his own music, to his infinite delight -beheld the boy first abate his exertions, and finally put an end to his -affronting pantomime altogether, and begin to manoeuvre in the -direction of the treacherous windfall. The youth gradually approached -it, and just at the moment when it was within his grasp, Signor -Parucci, with another careless touch of his foot, sent over a large -bow-pot well stored with clay, which stood upon the window-block. The -descent of this ponderous missile was followed by a most heart-stirring -acclamation from below; and good Mr. Parucci, clambering along the -window-sill, and gazing downward, was regaled by the spectacle of the -gesticulating youth stamping about the grass among what appeared to be -the fragments of a hundred flower-pots, writhing and bellowing in -transports of indignation and bodily torment. - -"Povero ragazzo--Carissimo figlio," exclaimed the valet, looking out -with an expression of infinite sweetness, "my dear child and charming -boy, how 'av you broke my flower-pote, and when 'av you come here. Ah! -per Bacco, I think I 'av see you before. Ah! yees, you are that -sweetest leetel boy that was leestening at my music--so charming just -now. How much clay is on your back! a cielo! amiable child, you might -'av keel yourself. Sacro numine, what an escape! Say your prayer, and -thank heaven you are safe, my beautiful, sweetest, leetel boy. God -blace you. Now rone away very fast, for fear you pool the other two -flower-potes on your back, sweetest child. Gode bless you, amiable -boy--they are very large and very heavy." - -The youth took the hint, and having had quite enough of Mr. Parucci's -music for the evening, withdrew under the combined influences of fury -and lumbago. The little man threw himself back in his chair, and hugged -his shins in sheer delight, grinning and chattering like a delirious -monkey, and rolling himself about, and laughing with the most exquisite -relish. At length, after this had gone on for some time, with the air -of a man who has had enough of trifling, and must now apply himself to -matters of graver importance, he arose, hung up his guitar, sent his -chair, which was upon casters, rolling to the far end of the room, and -proceeded to arrange the curls of one of the two magnificent perukes, -on which it was his privilege to operate. After having applied himself -with uncommon attention to this labour of taste for some time in -silence, he retired a few paces to contemplate the effect of his -performance--whereupon he fell into a musing mood, and began after his -fashion to soliloquize with a good deal of energy and volubility in -that dialect which had become more easy to him than his mother tongue. - -"_Corpo di Bacco!_ what thing is life! who would believe thirty years -ago I should be here now in a barbaroose island to curl the wig of an -old gouty blackguard--but what matter. I am a philosopher--damnation--it -is very well as it is--per Bacco! I can go way when I like. I am reech -leetle fellow, and with Sir Richard, good Sir Richard, I do always -whatever I may choose. Good Sir Richard," he continued, addressing the -block on which hung the object of his tasteful labours, as if it had -been the baronet in person--"good Sir Richard, why are you so kind to -me, when you are so cross as the old devil in hell with all the rest -of the world?--why, why, why? Shall I say to you the reason, good, -kind Sir Richard? Well, I weel. It is because you dare not--dare -not--dare not-da-a-a-are not vaix me. I am, you know, dear Sir -Richard, a poor, leetle foreigner, who is depending on your goodness. -I 'ave nothing but your great pity and good charity--oh, no! I am -nothing at all; but still you dare not vaix me--you moste not be -angry--note at all--but very quiet--you moste not go in a passion--oh! -never--weeth me--even if I was to make game of you, and to insult you, -and to pool your nose." - -Here the Italian seized, with the tongs which he had in his hand, upon -that prominence in the wooden block which corresponded in position with -the nose, which at other times the peruke overshadowed, and with a grin -of infinite glee pinched and twisted the iron instrument until the -requirements of his dramatic fancy were satisfied, when he delivered -two or three sharp knocks on the smooth face of the block, and resumed -his address. - -"No, no--you moste not be angry, fore it would be great misfortune--oh, -it would--if you and I should quarrel together; but tell me now, old -_truffatore_--tell me, I say, am I not very quiet, good-nature, -merciful, peetying faylow? Ah, yees--very, very--_Madre di Dio_--very -moche; and dear, good Sir Richard, shall I tell you why I am so very -good-nature? It is because I love you joste as moche as you love me--it -is because, most charitable patron, it is my convenience to go on weeth -you quietly and 'av no fighting yet--bote you are going to get money. -Oh! so coning you are, you think I know nothing--you think I am -asleep--bote I know it--I know it quite well. You think I know nothing -about the land you take from Miss Mary. Ah! you are very coning--oh! -very; but I 'av hear it all, and I tell you--and I swear _per sangue di -D----_, when you get that money I shall, and will, and moste--_mo-ooste_ -'av a very large, comfortable, beeg handful--do you hear me? Oh, you -very coning old rascal; and if you weel not geeve it, oh, my dear Sir -Richard, echellent master, I am so moche afaid we will 'av a fight -between us--a quarrel--that will spoil our love and friendship, and -maybe, helas! horte your reputation--shoking--make the gentlemen spit -on you, and avoid you, and call you all the ogly names--oh! shoking." - -Here he was interrupted by a loud ringing in Sir Richard's chamber. - -"There he is to pool his leetle bell--damnation, what noise. I weel go -up joste now--time enough, dear, good, patient Sir Richard--time -enough--oh, plainty, plainty." - -The little man then leisurely fumbled in his pocket until he brought -forth a bunch of keys, from which, having selected one, he applied it -to the lock of the little press which we have already mentioned, whence -he deliberately produced one of the flasks which we have hinted at, -along with a tall glass with a spiral stem, and filling himself a -bumper of the liquor therein contained, he coolly sipped it to the -bottom, accompanied throughout the performance by the incessant -tinkling of Sir Richard's hand-bell. - -"Ah, very good, most echellent--thank you, Sir Richard, you 'av give me -so moche time and so moche music, I 'av drunk your very good health." - -So saying, he locked up the flask and glass again, and taking the block -which had just represented Sir Richard in the imaginary colloquy in his -hand, he left his own chamber, and ran upstairs to the baronet's -dressing-room. He found his master alone. - -"Ah, Jacopo," exclaimed the baronet, looking somewhat flushed, but -speaking, nevertheless, in a dulcet tone enough, "I have been ringing -for nearly ten minutes; but I suppose you did not hear me." - -"Joste so as you 'av say," replied the man. "Your _signoria_ is very -seldom wrong. I was so charmed with my work I could not hear nothing." - -"Parucci," rejoined Sir Richard, after a slight pause, "you know I keep -no secrets from you." - -"Ah, you flatter me, Signor--you flatter me--indeed you do," said the -valet, with ironical humility. - -His master well understood the tone in which the fellow spoke, but did -not care to notice it. - -"The fact is, Jacopo," continued Sir Richard, "you already know so many -of my secrets, that I have now no motive in excluding you from any." - -"Goode, kind--oh, very kind," ejaculated the valet. - -"In short," continued his master, who felt a little uneasy under the -praises of his attendant--"in short, to speak plainly, I want your -assistance. I know your talents well. You can imitate any handwriting -you please to copy with perfect accuracy. You must copy, in the -handwriting of this manuscript, the draft of a letter which I will hand -you this evening. You require some little time to study the character; -so take the letter with you, and be in my room at ten to-night. I will -then hand you the draft of what I want written. You understand?" - -"Understand! To be sure--most certilly I weel do it," replied the -Italian, "so that the great devil himself will not tell the writing of -the two, _l'un dall' altro_, one from the other. Never fear--geeve me -the letter. I must learn the writing. I weel be here to-night before -you are arrive, and I weel do it very fast, and so like--bote you know -how well I can copy. Ah! yees; you know it, Signor. I need not tell." - -"No more at present," said the baronet, with a gesture of caution. -"Assist me to dress." - -The Italian accordingly was soon deep in the mysteries of his elaborate -functions, where we shall leave him and his master for the present. - - - - -CHAPTER XVII. - -DUBLIN CASTLE BY NIGHT--THE DRAWING-ROOM--LORD WHARTON AND HIS COURT. - - -Sir Richard Ashwoode had set his heart upon having Lord Aspenly for his -son-in-law; and all things considered, his lordship was, perhaps, -according to the standard by which the baronet measured merit, as good -a son-in-law as he had any right to hope for. It was true, Lord Aspenly -was neither very young nor very beautiful. Spite of all the ingenious -arts by which he reinforced his declining graces, it was clear as the -light that his lordship was not very far from seventy; and it was just -as apparent that it was not to any extraordinary supply of bone, -muscle, or flesh that his vitality was attributable. His lordship was a -little, spindle-shanked gentleman, with the complexion of a consumptive -frog, and features as sharp as edged tools. He condescended to borrow -from the artistic talents of his valet the exquisite pencilling of his -eyebrows, as well as the fine black line which gave effect to a set of -imaginary eyelashes, and depth and brilliancy to a pair of eyes which, -although naturally not very singularly effective, had, nevertheless, -nearly as much vivacity in them as they had ever had. His smiles were -perennial and unceasing, very winning and rather ghastly. He used much -gesticulation, and his shrug was absolutely Parisian. To all these -perfections he added a wonderful facility in rounding the periods of a -compliment, and an inexhaustible affluence of something which passed -for conversation. Thus endowed, and having, moreover, the additional -recommendation of a handsome income, a peerage, and an unencumbered -celibacy, it is hardly wonderful that his lordship was unanimously -voted by all prudent and discriminating persons, without exception, the -most fascinating man in all Ireland. Sir Richard Ashwoode was not one -whit more in earnest in desiring the match than was Lord Aspenly -himself. His lordship had for some time begun to suspect that he had -nearly sown his wild oats--that it was time for him to reform--that he -was ripe for the domestic virtues, and ought to renounce scamp-hood. He -therefore, in the laboratory of his secret soul, compounded a virtuous -passion, which he resolved to expend upon the first eligible object who -might present herself. Mary Ashwoode was the fortunate damsel who first -happened to come within the scope and range of his lordship's -premeditated love; and he forthwith in a matrimonial paroxysm applied, -according to the good old custom, not to the lady herself, but to Sir -Richard Ashwoode, and was received with open arms. - -The baronet indeed, as the reader is aware, anticipated many -difficulties in bringing the match about; for he well knew how deeply -his daughter's heart was engaged, and his misgivings were more sombre -and frequent than he cared to acknowledge even to himself. He resolved, -however, that the thing should be; and he was convinced, that if his -lordship only were firm, spite of fate he would effect it. In order -then to inspire Lord Aspenly with this desirable firmness, he not -unwisely believed that his best course was to exhibit him as much as -possible in public places, in the character of the avowed lover of Mary -Ashwoode; a position which, when once unequivocally assumed, afforded -no creditable retreat, except through the gates of matrimony. It was -arranged, therefore, that the young lady, under the protection of Lady -Stukely, and accompanied by Lord Aspenly and Henry Ashwoode, should -attend the first drawing-room at the Castle, a ceremonial which had -been fixed to take place a few days subsequently to the arrival of Lord -Aspenly at Morley Court. Those who have seen the Castle of Dublin only -as it now stands, have beheld but the creation of the last sixty or -seventy years, with the exception only of the wardrobe tower, an old -grey cylinder of masonry, very dingy and dirty, which appears to have -gone into half mourning for its departed companions, and presents -something of the imposing character of an overgrown, mouldy band-box. -At the beginning of the last century, however, matters were very -different. The trim brick buildings, with their spacious windows and -symmetrical regularity of structure, which now complete the quadrangles -of the castle, had not yet appeared; but in their stead masses of -building, constructed with very little attention to architectural -precision, either in their individual formation or in their relative -position, stood ranged together, so as to form two irregular and gloomy -squares. That portion of the building which was set apart for state -occasions and the vice-regal residence, had undergone so many repairs -and modifications, that very little if any of it could have been -recognized by its original builder. Not so, however, with other -portions of the pile: the ponderous old towers, which have since -disappeared, with their narrow loop-holes and iron-studded doors -looming darkly over the less massive fabrics of the place with stern -and gloomy aspect, reminded the passer every moment, that the building -whose courts he trod was not merely the theatre of stately ceremonies, -but a fortress and a prison. - -The viceroyalty of the Earl of Wharton was within a few weeks of its -abrupt termination; the approaching discomfiture of the Whigs was not, -however, sufficiently clearly revealed, to thin the levees and -drawing-rooms of the Whig lord-lieutenant. The castle yards were, -therefore, upon the occasion in question, crowded to excess with the -gorgeous equipages in which the Irish aristocracy of the time -delighted. The night had closed in unusual darkness, and the massive -buildings, whose summits were buried in dense and black obscurity, were -lighted only by the red reflected glow of crowded flambeaux and -links--which, as the respective footmen, who attended the crowding -chairs and coaches flourished them according to the approved fashion, -scattered their wide showers of sparks into the eddying air, and -illumined in a broad and ruddy glare, like that of a bonfire, the -gorgeous equipages with which the square was now thronged, and the -splendid figures which they successively discharged. There were -coaches-and-four--out-riders--running footmen and hanging -footmen--crushing and rushing--jostling and swearing--and burly -coachmen, with inflamed visages, lashing one another's horses and their -own. Lackeys collaring and throttling one another, all "for their -master's honour," in the hot and disorderly dispute for precedence, and -some even threatening an appeal to the swords--which, according to the -barbarous fashion of the day, they carried, to the no small peril of -the public and themselves. Others dragging the reins of strangers' -horses, and backing them to make way for their own--a proceeding which, -of course, involved no small expenditure of blasphemy and vociferation. -On the whole, it would not be easy to exaggerate the scene of riot and -confusion which, under the very eye of the civil and military executive -of the country, was perpetually recurring, and that, too, ostensibly in -honour of the supreme head of the Irish Government. - -Through all this crash, and clatter, and brawling, and vociferation, -the party whom we are bound to follow made their way with some -difficulty and considerable delay. - -The Earl of Wharton with his countess, surrounded by a brilliant staff, -and amid all the pomp and state of vice-regal dignity, received the -distinguished courtiers who thronged the castle chambers. At the time -of which we write, Lord Wharton was in his seventieth year. Few, -however, would have guessed his age at more than sixty, though many -might have supposed it under that. He was rather a spare figure, with -an erect and dignified bearing, and a countenance which combined -vivacity, good-humour, and boldness in an eminent degree. His manners -were, to those who did not know how unreal was everything in them that -bore the promise of good, singularly engaging, and that in spite of a -very strong spice of coarseness, and a very determined addiction to -profane swearing. He had, however, in his whole air and address a kind -of rollicking, good-humoured familiarity, which was very generally -mistaken for the quintessence of candour and good-fellowship, and which -consequently rendered him unboundedly popular among those who were not -aware of the fact that his complimentary speeches meant just nothing, -and were very often followed, the moment the object of them had -withdrawn, by the coarsest ridicule, and even by the grossest abuse. -For the rest, he was undoubtedly an able statesman, and had clearly -discerned and adroitly steered his way through the straits and perils -of troublous and eventful times. He was, moreover, a steady and -uncompromising Whig, upon whom, throughout a long and active life, the -stain of inconsistency had never rested; a thorough partisan, a quick -and ready debater, and an unscrupulous and daring political intriguer. -In private, however, entirely profligate--a sensualist and an infidel, -and in both characters equally without shame. - -Through the rooms there wandered a very wild, madcap boy of some ten or -eleven years, venting his turbulent spirits in all kinds of mischievous -pranks--sometimes planting himself behind Lord Wharton, and mimicking, -with ludicrous exaggeration, which the courtly spectators had enough to -do to resist, the ceremonious gestures and gracious nods of the -viceroy; at other times assuming a staid and manly carriage, and -chatting with his elders with the air of perfect equality, and upon -subjects which one would have thought immeasurably beyond his years, -and this with a sound sense, suavity, and precision which would have -done honour to many grey heads in the room. This strange, bold, -precocious boy of eleven was Philip, afterwards Duke of Wharton, the -wonder and the disgrace of the British peerage. - -"Ah! Mr. Morris," exclaimed his excellency, as a middle-aged gentleman, -with a fluttered air, a round face, and vacant smile, approached, "I am -delighted to see you--by ---- Almighty I am--give me your hand. I have -written across about the matter we wot of: but for these cursed -contrary winds, I make no doubt I should have had a letter before now. -Is the young gentleman himself here?" - -"A--a--not quite, your excellency. That is, not at--all," stammered the -gentleman, in mingled delight and alarm. "He is, my lord, a--a--laid -up. He--a--it is a sore throat. Your excellency is most gracious." - -"Tell him from me," rejoined Wharton, "that he must get well as quickly -as may be. We don't know the moment he may be wanted. You understand -me?" - -"I--a--do indeed," replied Mr. Morris, retiring in graceful confusion. - -"A d----d impudent booby," whispered Wharton to Addison, who stood -beside him, uttering the remark without the change of a single muscle. -"He has made some cursed unconscionable request about his son. I'gad, I -forget what; but we want his vote on Tuesday; and civility, you know, -costs no coin." - -Addison smiled faintly, and shook his head. - -"May the Lord pardon us all," exclaimed a country clergyman in a rusty -gown and ill-dressed wig, with a pale, attenuated, eager face, which -told mournful tales of short commons and hard work; he had been for -some time an intense and a grieved listener to the lord-lieutenant's -conversation, and was now slowly retiring with a companion as humble as -himself from the circle which surrounded his excellency, with simple -horror impressed upon his pale features--"may the Lord preserve us all, -how awful it is to hear one so highly trusted by _Him_, take His name -thus momentarily in vain. Lord Wharton is, I fear me much, an habitual -profane swearer." - -"Believe me, sir, you are very simple," rejoined a young clergyman who -stood close to the position which the speaker now occupied. "His -excellency's object in swearing by the different persons of the Trinity -is to show that he believes in revealed religion--a fact which else -were doubtful; and this being his main object, it is manifestly a -secondary consideration to what particular asseveration or promises his -excellency happens to tack his oaths." - -The lank, pale-faced prebendary looked suddenly and earnestly round -upon the person who had accosted him, with an expression of curiosity -and wonder, evidently in some doubt as to the spirit in which the -observation had been made. He beheld a tall, stalwart man, arrayed in a -clerical costume as rich as that of a churchman who has not attained to -the rank of a dignitary in his profession could well be, and in all -points equipped with the most perfect neatness. In the face he looked -in vain for any indication of jocularity. It was a striking -countenance--striking for the extreme severity of its expression, and -for its stern and handsome outline. The eye which encountered the -inquiring glance of the elder man was of the clearest blue, singularly -penetrating and commanding--the eyebrow dark and shaggy--the lips full -and finely formed, but in their habitual expression bearing a character -of haughty and indomitable determination--the complexion of the face -was dark; and as the country prebendary gazed upon the countenance, -full, as it seemed, of a scornful, stern, merciless energy and -decision, something told him, that he looked upon one born to lead and -to command the people. All this he took in at a glance: and while he -looked, Addison, who had detached himself from the vice-regal coterie, -laid his hand upon the shoulder of the stern-featured young clergyman. - -"Swift," said he, drawing him aside, "we see you too seldom here. His -excellency begins to think and to hope you have reconsidered what I -spoke about when last we met. Believe me, you wrong yourself in not -rendering what service you can to men who are not ungrateful, and who -have the power to reward. You were always a Whig, and a pamphlet were -with you but the work of a few days." - -"Were I to write a pamphlet," rejoined Swift, "it is odds his -excellency would not like it." - -"Have you not always been a Whig?" urged Addison. - -"Sir, I am not to be taken by nicknames," rejoined Swift. "I know -Godolphin, and I know Lord Wharton. I have long distrusted the -government of each. I am no courtier, Mr. Secretary. What I suspect I -will not seem to trust--what I hate I hate entirely, and renounce -openly. I have heard of my Lord Wharton's doing, too. When I refused -before to understand your overtures to me to write a pamphlet for his -friends, he was pleased to say I refused because he would not make me -his chaplain--in saying which he knowingly and malignantly lied; and to -this lie he, after his accustomed fashion, tacked a blasphemous oath. -He is therefore a perjured liar. I renounce him as heartily as I -renounce the devil. I am come here, Mr. Secretary, not to do reverence -to Lord Wharton--God forbid!--but to offer my homage to the majesty of -England, whose brightness is reflected even in that cracked and -battered piece of pinchbeck yonder. Believe me, should his excellency -be rash enough to engage me in talk to-night, I shall take care to let -him know what opinion I have of him." - -"Come, come, you must not be so dogged," rejoined Addison. "You know -Lord Wharton's ways. He says a good deal more than he cares to be -believed--everybody knows _that_--and all take his lordship's -asseverations with a grain of allowance; besides, you ought to consider -that when a man unused to contradiction is crossed by disappointment, -he is apt to be choleric, and to forget his discretion. We all know his -faults; but even you will not deny his merits." - -Thus speaking, he led Swift toward the vice-regal circle, which they -had no sooner reached than Wharton, with his most good-humoured smile, -advanced to meet the young clergyman, exclaiming,-- - -"Swift! so it is, by ----! I am glad to see you--by ---- I am." - -"I am glad, my lord," replied Swift, gravely, "that you take such -frequent occasion to remind this godless company of the presence of the -Almighty." - -"Well, you know," rejoined Wharton, good-humouredly, "the Scripture -saith that the righteous man sweareth to his neighbour." - -"And _disappointeth_ him not," rejoined Swift. - -"And disappointeth him not," repeated Wharton; "and by ----," continued -he, with marked earnestness, and drawing the young politician aside as -he spoke, "in whatsoever I swear to thee there shall be no -disappointment." - -He paused, but Swift remained silent. The lord-lieutenant well knew -that an English preferment was the nearest object of the young -churchman's ambition. He therefore continued,-- - -"On my soul, we want you in England--this is no stage for you. By ---- -you cannot hope to serve either yourself or your friends in this -place." - -"Very few thrive here but scoundrels, my lord," rejoined Swift. - -"Even so," replied Wharton, with perfect equanimity--"it is a nation of -scoundrels--dissent on the one side and popery on the other. The upper -order harpies, and the lower a mere prey--and all equally liars, -rogues, rebels, slaves, and robbers. By ---- some fine day the devil -will carry off the island bodily. For very safety you must get out of -it. By ---- he'll have it." - -"I am not enough in the devil's confidence to speak of his designs with -so much authority as your lordship," rejoined Swift; "but I incline to -think that under your excellency's administration it will answer his -end as well to leave the island where it is." - -"Ah! Swift, you are a wag," rejoined the viceroy; "but by ---- I honour -and respect your spirit. I know we shall agree yet--by ---- I know it. -I respect your independence and honesty all the more that they are -seldom met with in a presence-chamber. By ---- I respect and love you -more and more every day." - -"If your lordship will forego your professions of love, and graciously -confine yourself to the backbiting which must follow, you will do for -me to the full as much as I either expect or desire," rejoined Swift, -with a grave reverence. - -"Well, well," rejoined the viceroy, with the most unruffled -good-humour, "I see, Swift, you are in no mood to play the courtier -just now. Nevertheless, bear in mind what Addison advised you to -attempt; and though we part thus for the present, believe me, I love -you all the better for your honest humour." - -"Farewell, my lord," repeated Swift, abruptly, and with a formal bow he -retired among the common throng. - -"A hungry, ill-conditioned dog," said Wharton, turning to the person -next him, "who, having never a bone to gnaw, whets his teeth on the -shins of the company." - -Having vented this little criticism, the viceroy resumed once more the -formal routine of state hospitality. - -"It is time we were going," suggested Mary Ashwoode to Emily Copland. -"My lord," she continued, turning to Lord Aspenly, whose attentions had -been just as conspicuous and incessant as Sir Richard Ashwoode could -have wished them, "Do you know where Lady Stukely is?" - -Lord Aspenly professed his ignorance. - -"Have _you_ seen her ladyship?" inquired Emily Copland of the gallant -Major O'Leary, who stood near her. - -"Upon my conscience, I have," rejoined the major. "I'm not considered a -poltroon; but I plead guilty to one weakness. I am bothered if I can -stand fire when it appears in the nose of a gentlewoman; so as soon as -I saw her I beat a retreat, and left my valorous young nephew to stand -or fall under the blaze of her artillery. She is at the far end of the -room." - -The major was easily persuaded to undertake the mission, and a word to -young Ashwoode settled the matter. The party accordingly left the -rooms, having, however, previously to their doing so, arranged that -Major O'Leary should pass the next day at Morley Court, and afterwards -accompany them in the evening to the theatre, whither Sir Richard, in -pursuance of his plans, had arranged that they should all repair. - - - - -CHAPTER XVIII. - - -THE TWO COUSINS--THE NEGLECTED JEWELS AND THE BROKEN SEAL. - -It was drawing toward evening when Emily Copland, in high spirits, and -richly and becomingly dressed, ran lightly to the door of her cousin's -chamber. She knocked, but no answer was returned. She knocked again, -but still without any reply. Then opening the door, she entered the -room, and beheld her cousin Mary seated at a small work-table, at which -it was her wont to read. There she lay motionless--her small head -leaned upon her graceful arms, over which flowed all negligently the -dark luxuriant hair. An open letter was on the table before her, and -two or three rich ornaments lay unheeded on the floor beside her, as if -they had fallen from her hand. There was in her attitude such a -passionate abandonment of grief, that she seemed the breathing image of -despair. Spite of all her levity, the young lady was touched at the -sight. She approached her gently, and laying her hand upon her -shoulder, she stooped down and kissed her. - -"Mary, dear Mary, what grieves you?" she said. "Tell me. It's I, -dear--your cousin Emily. There's a good girl--what has happened to vex -you?" - -Mary raised her head, and looked in her cousin's face. Her eye was -wild--she was pale as marble, and in her beautiful face was an -expression so utterly woeful and piteous, that Emily was almost moved. - -"Oh! I have lost him--for ever and ever I have lost him," said she, -despairingly. "Oh! cousin, dear cousin, he is gone from me. God pity -me--I am forsaken." - -"Nay, cousin, do not say so--be cheerful--it cannot be--there, there," -and Emily Copland kissed the poor girl's pale lips. - -"Forsaken--forsaken," continued Mary, for she heard not and heeded not -the voice of vain consolation. "He has thrown me off for ever--for -ever--quite--quite. God pity me, where shall I look for hope?" - -"Mary, dear Mary," said her cousin, "you are ill--do not give way thus. -Be assured it is not as you think. You must be in error." - -"In error! Oh! that I could think so. God knows how gladly I would give -my poor life to think so. No, no--it is real--all real. Oh! cousin, he -has forsaken me." - -"I cannot believe it--I _can_ not," said Emily Copland. "Such folly can -hardly exist. I will not believe it. What reason have you for thinking -him changed?" - -"Read--oh, read it, cousin," replied the girl, motioning toward the -letter, which lay open on the table--"read it once, and you will not -bid me hope any more. Oh! cousin, dear cousin, there is no more joy for -me in this world, turn where I will, do what I may--I am heart-broken." - -Emily Copland glanced through the letter, shook her head, and dropped -the note again where it had been lying. - -"You know, cousin Emily, how I loved him," continued Mary, while for -the first time the tears flowed fast--"you know that day after day, -among all that happened to grieve me, my heart found rest in his -love--in the hope and trust that he would never grow cold; -and--and--oh! God pity me--_now_ where is it all? You see--you know his -love is gone from me--for evermore--gone from me. Oh! how I used to -count the days and hours till the time would come round when I could -see him and speak to him--but this has all gone. Hereafter all days are -to be the same--morning or evening, summer time or winter--no change of -seasons or of hours can bring to me any more hope or gladness, but ever -the same--sorrow and desolate loneliness--for oh! cousin, I am very -desolate, and hopeless, and heart-broken." - -The poor girl threw her arms round her cousin's neck, and sobbed and -wept, and wept and sobbed again, as though her heart would break. Long -and bitterly she wept upon her cousin's neck in silence, unbroken, -except by her sobs. After a time, however, Emily Copland exclaimed,-- - -"Well, Mary, to say the truth, I never much liked the matter; and as he -is a fool, and an _ungrateful_ fool to boot, I am not sorry that he has -shown his character as he has done. Believe me, painful as such -discoveries are when made thus early, they are incomparably more -agonizing when made too late. A little--a very little--time will enable -you quite to forget him." - -"No, cousin," replied Mary--"no, I never will forget him. He is changed -indeed--greatly changed from what he was--bitterly has he disappointed -and betrayed me; but I cannot forget him. There shall indeed never more -pass word or look between us; he shall be to me as one that is dead, -whom I shall hear and see no more; but the memory of what he was--the -memory of what I vainly thought him--shall remain with me while my poor -heart beats." - -"Well, Mary, time will show," said Emily. - -"Yes, time will show--time will show," replied she, mournfully; "be the -time long or short, it will show." - -"You _must_ forget him--you _will_ forget him; a few weeks, and you -will thank your stars you found him out so soon." - -"Ah, cousin," replied Mary, "you do not know how all my thoughts, and -hopes, and recollections--everything I liked to remember, and to look -forward to; you cannot know how all that was happy in my life--but what -boots it, I will keep my troth with him; I will love no other, and wed -with no other; and while this sorrowful life remains I will -never--never--forget him." - -"I can only say, that were the case my own," rejoined Emily, "I would -show the fellow how lightly I held him and his worthless heart, and -marry within a month; but every one has her own way of doing things. -Remember it is nearly time to start for the theatre; the coach will be -at the door in half-an-hour. Surely you will come; it would seem so -very strange were you to change your mind thus suddenly; and you may be -very sure that, by some means or other, the impudent fellow--about -whom, I cannot see why, you care so much--would hear of all your -grieving, and pining, and love-sickness. Pah! I'd rather die than -please the hollow, worthless creature by letting him think he had -caused me a moment's uneasiness; and then, above all, Sir Richard would -be so outrageously angry--why, you would never hear the end of it. -Come, come, be a good girl. After all, it is only holding up your head, -and looking pretty, which you can't help, for an hour or two. You must -come to silence gossip abroad, as well as for the sake of peace at -home--you _must_ come." - -"I would fain stay here at home," said the poor girl; "heart and head -are sick: but if you think my father would be angry with me for staying -at home, I will go. It is indeed, as you say, a small matter to me -where I pass an hour or two; all times, all places--crowds or -solitudes--are henceforward indifferent to me. What care I where they -bring me! Cousin Emily, I will do whatever you think best." - -The poor girl spoke with a voice and look of such utter wretchedness, -that even her light-hearted, worldly, selfish cousin was touched with -pity. - -"Come, then; I will assist you," said she, kissing the pale cheek of -the heart-stricken girl. "Come, Mary, cheer up, you must call up your -good looks it would never do to be seen thus." And so talking on, she -assisted her to dress. - -Gaily and richly arrayed in the gorgeous and by no means unbecoming -style of the times, and sparkling with brilliant jewels, poor Mary -Ashwoode--a changed and stricken creature, scarcely conscious of what -was going on around her--took her place in her father's carriage, and -was borne rapidly toward the theatre. - -The party consisted of the two young ladies, who were respectively -under the protection of Lord Aspenly, who sate beside Mary Ashwoode, -happily too much pleased with his own voluble frivolity to require -anything more from her than her appearing to hear it, and young -Ashwoode, who chatted gaily with his pretty cousin. - -"What has become of my venerable true-love, Major O'Leary?" inquired -Miss Copland. - -"He will follow on horseback," replied Ashwoode. "I beheld him, as I -passed downstairs, admiring himself before the looking-glass in his new -regimentals. He designs tremendous havoc to-night. His coat is a -perfect phenomenon--the investment of a year's pay at least--with more -gold about it than I thought the country could afford, and scarlet -enough to make a whole wardrobe for the lady of Babylon--a coat which, -if left to itself, would storm the hearts of nine girls out of ten, and -which, even with an officer in it, will enthral half the sex." - -"And here comes the coat itself," exclaimed the young lady, as the -major rode up to the coach-window--"I'm half in love with it myself -already." - -"Ladies, your devoted slave: gentlemen, your most obedient," said the -major, raising his three-cornered hat. "I hope to see you before -half-an-hour, under circumstances more favourable to conversation. Miss -Copland, depend upon it, with your permission, I'll pay my homage to -you before half-an-hour, the more especially as I have a scandalous -story to tell you. Meanwhile, I wish you all a safe journey, and a -pleasant one." So saying, the major rode on, at a brisk pace, to the -"Cock and Anchor," there intending to put up his horse, and to exchange -a few words with young O'Connor. - -In the meantime the huge old coach, which contained the rest of the -party, jolted and rumbled on, until at length, amid the confusion and -clatter of crowded vehicles, restive horses, and vociferous coachmen, -with all their accompaniments of swearing and whipping, the clank of -scrambling hoofs, the bumping and hustling of carriages, and the -desperate rushing of chairmen, bolting this way or that, with their -living loads of foppery and fashion--the coach-door was thrown open at -the box-entrance of the Theatre Royal, in Smock Alley. - - - - -CHAPTER XIX. - -THE THEATRE--THE RUFFIAN--THE ASSAULT, AND THE RENCONTRE. - - -Major O'Leary had hardly dismounted in the quadrangle of the "Cock and -Anchor," when O'Connor rode slowly into the inn-yard. - -"How are you, my dear fellow?" exclaimed the man of scarlet and gold; -"I was just asking where you were. Come down off that beast, I want to -have a word in your ear--a bit of news--some fun. Descend, I say, -descend." - -O'Connor accordingly dismounted. - -"Now then--a hearty shake--so. I have great news, and only a minute to -tell it. Jack, run like a shot, and get me a chair. Here, Tim, take a -napkin and an oyster-knife, and do not leave a bit of mud, or the sign -of it, upon my back: take a general survey of the coat and breeches, -and a particular review of the wig. And, Jem, do you give my boots a -harum-scarum shot of a superficial scrub, and touch up the hat--gently, -do you mind--and take care of the lace. So while the fellows are -finishing my toilet, I may as well tell you my morsel of news. Do you -know who is to be at the playhouse to-night?" - -O'Connor expressed his ignorance. - -"Well, then, I'll tell you, and make what use you like of it," resumed -the major. "Miss Mary Ashwoode! There's for you. Take my advice, get -into a decent coat and breeches, and run down to the theatre--it is not -five minutes' walk from this; you'll easily find us, and I'll take care -to make room for you. Why, you do not seem half pleased: what more can -you wish for, unless you expect the girl to put up for the evening at -the "Cock and Anchor"? Rouse yourself. If you feel modest, there is -nothing like a pint or two of Madeira: don't try brandy--it's the -father and mother of all sorts of indiscretions. Now, mind, you have -the hint; it is an opportunity you ought to improve. By the powers, if -I was in your place--but no matter. You may not have an opportunity of -seeing her again these six months; and unless I'm completely mistaken, -you are as much in love with the girl as I am with--several that shall -be nameless. Heigho! next after Burgundy, and the cock-pit, and the -fox-hounds, and two or three more frailties of the kind, there is -nothing in the world I prefer to flirtation, without much minding -whether I'm the principal or the second in the affair. But here comes -the vehicle." - -Accordingly, without waiting to say any more, the major took his seat -in the chair, and was borne by the lusty chairmen, at a swinging pace, -through the narrow streets, and, without let or accident, safely -deposited within the principal entrance of the theatre. - -The theatre of Smock Alley (or, as it was then called, Orange Street) -was not quite what theatres are nowadays. It was a large building of -the kind, as theatres were then rated, and contained three galleries, -one above the other, supported by heavy wooden caryatides, and richly -gilded and painted. The curtain, instead of rising and falling, opened, -according to the old fashion, in the middle, and was drawn sideways -apart, disclosing no triumphs of illusive colouring and perspective, -but a succession of plain tapestry-covered screens, which, from early -habit, the audience accommodatingly accepted for town or country, dry -land or sea, or, in short, for any locality whatsoever, according to -the manager's good will and pleasure. This docility and good faith on -the part of the audience were, perhaps, the more praiseworthy, inasmuch -as a very considerable number of the aristocratic spectators actually -sate in long lines down either side of the stage--a circumstance -involving, by the continuous presence of the same perukes, and the same -embroidered waistcoats, the same set of countenances, and the same set -of legs, in every variety of clime and situation through which the -wayward invention of the playwright hurried his action, a very severe -additional tax upon the imaginative faculties of the audience. But -perhaps the most striking peculiarities of the place were exhibited in -the grim persons of two _bona fide_ sentries, in genuine cocked hats -and scarlet coats, with their enormous muskets shouldered, and the -ball-cartridges dangling in ostentatious rows from their bandoleers, -planted at the front, and facing the audience, one at each side of the -stage--a vivid evidence of the stern vicissitudes and insecurity of the -times. For the rest, the audience of those days, in the brilliant -colours, and glittering lace, and profuse ornament, which the gorgeous -fashion of the time allowed, presented a spectacle of rich and dazzling -magnificence, such as no modern assembly of the kind can even faintly -approach. - -The major had hardly made his way to the box where his party were -seated, when his attention was caught by an object which had for him -all but irresistible attractions: this was the buxom person of Mistress -Jannet Rumble, a plump, good-looking, young widow of five-and-forty, -with a jolly smile, a hearty laugh, and a killing acquaintance with the -language of the eyes. These perfections--for of course her jointure, -which, by the way, was very considerable, could have had nothing to do -with it--were too much for Major O'Leary. He met the widow -accidentally, made a few careless inquiries about her finances, and -fell over head and ears in love with her upon the shortest possible -notice. Our friend had, therefore, hardly caught a glimpse of her, when -Miss Copland, beside whom he was seated, observed that he became -unusually meditative, and at length, after two or three attempts to -enter again into conversation--all resulting in total and incoherent -failure, the major made some blundering excuse, took his departure, and -in a moment had planted himself beside the fascinating Mistress -Rumble--where we shall allow him the protection of a generous -concealment, and suffer him to read the lady's eyes, and insinuate his -soft nonsense, without intruding for a moment upon the sanctity of -lovers' mutual confidences. - -Emily Copland having watched and enjoyed the manoeuvres of her military -friend till she was fairly tired of the amusement, and having in vain -sought to engage Henry Ashwoode, who was unusually moody and absent, in -conversation, at length, as a last desperate resource, turned her -attention to what was passing upon the stage. - -While all this was going forward, young Ashwoode was a good deal -disconcerted at observing among the crowd in the pit a personage with -whom, in the vicious haunts which he frequented, he had made a sort of -ambiguous acquaintance. The man was a bulky, broad-shouldered, -ill-looking fellow, with a large, vulgar, red face, and a coarse, -sensual mouth, whose blue, swollen lips indicated habitual -intemperance, and the nauseous ugliness of which was further enhanced -by the loss of two front teeth, probably by some violent agency, as was -testified by a deep scar across the mouth; the eyes of the man carried -that uncertain expression, half of shame and half of defiance, which -belongs to the coward, bully, and ruffian. The blackness of -habitually-indulged and ferocious passion was upon his countenance; and -the revolting character of the face was the more unequivocally marked -by a sort of smile, or rather sneer, which had in it neither -intellectuality nor gladness--an odious libel on the human smile, with -nothing but brute insolence and scorn, and a sardonic glee in its -baleful light--a smile from which every human sympathy recoiled abashed -and affrighted. Let not the reader imagine that the man and the -character are but the dreams of fiction; the wretch, whose outward -seeming we have imperfectly sketched, lived and moved in the scenes -where we have fixed our narrative--there grew rich--there rioted in the -indulgence of every passion which hell can inspire or to which wealth -can pander--there ministered to his insatiate avarice, by the -destruction and beggary of thousands of the young and thoughtless--and -there at length, in the fulness of his time, died--in the midst of -splendour and infamy: with malignant and triumphant perseverance having -persisted to his latest hour in the prosecution of his Satanic mission; -luring the unwary into the toils of crime and inextricable madness, and -thence into the pit of temporal and eternal ruin. This man, Nicholas -Blarden, Esquire, was the proprietor of one of those places where -fortunes are squandered, time sunk, habits, temper, character, morals, -all, corrupted, blasted, destroyed--one of those places which are set -apart as the especial temples of avarice, in which, year after year, -are for ever recurring the same perennial scenes of mad excess, of -calculating, merciless fraud, of bleak, brain-stricken despair--places -to which has been assigned, in a spirit of fearful truth, the -appellative of "hell." - -The man whom we have mentioned, it had never been young Ashwoode's -misfortune to meet, except in those scenes where his acquaintance was -useful, without being actually discreditable; for it was the fellow's -habit, with the instinctive caution which marks such gentlemen, to -court public observation as little as possible, and to skulk -systematically from the eye of popular scrutiny--seldom embarrassing -his aristocratic acquaintances by claiming the privilege of recognition -at unseasonable times; and confining himself, for the most part, -exclusively to his own coterie. Independently of his unpleasant natural -peculiarities there were other circumstances which tended to make him a -conspicuous object in the crowd--the fellow was extravagantly -over-dressed, and had planted himself in a standing posture upon a -bench, and from this elevated position was, with steady effrontery, -gazing into the box in which young Ashwoode's party were seated, -exchanging whispers and horse-laughs with three or four men who looked -scarcely less villainous than himself, and, as soon became apparent, -directing his marked and exclusive attention to Miss Ashwoode, who was -too deeply absorbed in her own sorrowful reflections to heed what was -passing around her. The young man felt his choler mount, as he beheld -the insolent conduct of the fellow--he saw, however, that Blarden was -evidently not perfectly sober, and hesitated what course he should -take. Strongly as he was tempted to spring at once into the pit, and -put an end to the impertinence by caning the fellow within an inch of -his life, he yet felt that a disreputable conflict of the kind had -better be avoided, and could not well be justified except as a last -resource; he, therefore, made up his mind to bear it as long as human -endurance could. - -Whatever hopes he entertained of escaping a collision with this man -were, however, destined to be disappointed. Nicky Blarden (as his -friends endearingly called him), to the great comfort of that part of -the audience in his immediate neighbourhood, at length descended from -his elevated stand, but not to conceal himself among the less obtrusive -spectators. With an insolent swagger the fellow shouldered his way -among the crowd towards the box where the object of his gaze was -seated; and, having planted himself directly beneath it, he stared -impudently up at young Ashwoode, exclaiming at the same time,-- - -"I say, Ashwoode, how does the world wag with you?--why ain't you -rattling the bones this evening? d----n me, you may as well be off, and -let me take care of the dimber mot up there?" - -"Do you speak to _me_, sir?" inquired young Ashwoode, turning almost -livid with passion, and speaking in that subdued tone, and with that -constrained coolness, which precedes some ungovernable outburst of -fury. - -"Why, ---- me, how great we've got all at once--I say, you don't know -me--Eh! don't you?" exclaimed the fellow, with vulgar scorn, at the -same time rather roughly poking Ashwoode's hand with the hilt of his -sword. - -"I shall show you, sir, when your drunken folly has passed away, by -very sore proofs, that I _do_ know you," replied the young man, -clutching his cane with such a grip as threatened to force his fingers -into it--"be assured, sir, I shall know you, and you me, as long as you -have the power to remember." - -"Whieu, d---- it, don't frighten us," said the fellow, looking round -for the approbation of his companions. "I say, d----n it, don't -frighten the people--come, come, no gammon. I say, Ashwoode, you must -introduce me, or present me, or whatever's the word, to your sister up -there--I say you _must_." - -"Quit this part of the house this instant, sir, or nothing shall -prevent me flogging you until I leave not a whole bone in your -body--this warning is the last--profit by it," rejoined Ashwoode, in a -low tone of bitter rage. - -"Oh, ho! it's there you are--is it?" rejoined the fellow, with a wink -at his comrades, "so you're going to beat the people--why, d----n it, -you're enough to make a horse laugh. I say I want to know your sister, -or your miss, or whatever she is, with the black hair up there, and if -you won't introduce me, d----n it, I must only introduce myself." - -So saying, the fellow made a spring and caught the ledge of the front -of the box, with the intention of vaulting into the place. Lord Aspenly -and the young ladies had arisen in some alarm. - -"My lord," said young Ashwoode, "have the goodness to conduct the -ladies to the lobby--I will join you in a moment." - -This direction was promptly obeyed, and at the same moment the young -man caught the fellow, already half into the box, by the neckcloth, -dragged his body across the wooden parapet, and while he struggled -helplessly to disengage himself--half strangled, and without the power -to get either up or down--with his heavy cane, the young -gentleman--every nerve, sinew, and muscle being strung to tenfold power -by fury--inflicted upon his back and ribs a castigation so prolonged -and tremendous, that before it had ended, the scoundrel was perfectly -insensible, in which state Henry Ashwoode flung him down again into the -pit, amid the obstreperous acclamations of all parts of the house--an -uproar of applause in which the spectators in the pit joined with such -hearty enthusiasm, that at length, touched with a kindred heroism, they -turned upon the associates of the fallen champion, and fairly kicked -and cuffed them out of the house. - -This feat accomplished, the young gentleman went down the stairs to the -street-entrance, and, after considerable delay, succeeded, with the -assistance of the footman who had attended him into the house, in -finding out their carriage, and having it brought to the door--not -judging it expedient that the ladies should return to their places, -where they would, of course, be exposed to the gazing curiosity of the -multitude. He found the party in the lobby quite recovered from -whatever was unpleasant in the excitement of the scene, the more -violent part of which they had not witnessed. Lord Aspenly and Emily -Copland were laughing over the adventure; and Mary, flashed and -agitated, was looking better than she had before upon that night. -Taking his cousin under his own protection, and consigning his sister -to that of Lord Aspenly, young Ashwoode led the way to the carriage. As -they passed slowly along the lobby, the quick eye of Mary Ashwoode -discerned a form, at sight of which her heart swelled and throbbed as -though it would burst--the colour fled from her cheeks, and she felt -for a moment on the point of swooning; the pride of her sex, however, -sustained her; the tingling blood again mounted warmly to her cheeks, -her eye brightened, and she listened, with more apparent interest than -perhaps she ever did before, to Lord Aspenly's remarks--the form was -O'Connor's. As she passed him, she returned his salute with a slight -and haughty bow, and saw, and felt the stern, cold, proud expression -which marked his pale and handsome features. In another moment she was -seated in the carriage; the doors were closed, crack went the whip, and -clatter go the iron hoofs on the pavement--but before they had -traversed a hundred yards on their homeward way, poor Mary Ashwoode -sunk back in her place, and fainted away. - - - - -CHAPTER XX. - -THE LODGING--YOUNG MELANCHOLY AND OLD REMEMBRANCES--AN ADVENTURE AMONG -THE YEW HEDGES OF MORLEY COURT. - - -"There is no more doubt--no more hope"--said O'Connor, as, wrapt in his -cloak, he slowly pursued his way homeward--"the worst _is_ true--she is -quite estranged from me--how deceived--how utterly blind I have -been--yet who could have thought it? Light-hearted, vain, worthless--it -is all, all true--my own eyes have seen it. Well, even this must be -borne--borne as best it may, and with a manly spirit. I have been, -indeed, miserably cheated"--he continued, with bitter vehemence--"and -what remains for me? I've been infatuated--a self-flattered fool, and -waken thus to find _all_ lost--but grief avails not--there lie before -me many paths of honourable toil, and many avenues to honourable -death--the ambition of my life is over--henceforth the world has -nothing to offer me. I will leave this, the country of my ill-fated -birth--leave it for ever, and end my days honourably, and God grant -soon, far away from the only one I ever loved--from her who has -betrayed me." - -Such were the thoughts which darkly and vaguely hurried through -O'Connor's mind as he retraced his steps. Before he had arrived, -however, at the "Cock and Anchor," whitherward he had mechanically -directed his course, he bethought himself, and turned in a different -direction towards the house in which his worthy friend, Mr. -Audley--having an inveterate prejudice against all inns, which, without -exception, he averred to be the especial sanctuaries of damp sheets, -bugs, thieves, and rheumatic fevers--had already established himself as -a weekly lodger. - -"Pooh, pooh! you foolish boy," ejaculated the old bachelor, with -considerable energy, in reply to O'Connor's gloomy and passionate -language; "nonsense, sir, and folly, and absurdity--you'll give me the -vapours if you go on this way--what the devil do you want of foreign -service and foreign graves--do you think, booby, it was for that I came -over here--tilly vally, tilly vally--I know as well as you, or any -other jackanapes, what love is. I tell you, sirrah, _I_ have been in -love, and _I_ have been jilted--_jilted_, sir! and when I _was_ jilted, -I thought the jilting itself quite enough, without improving the matter -by getting myself buried, dead or alive." Here the little gentleman -knocked the table recklessly with his knuckles, buried his hands in his -breeches pockets, and rising from his chair, paced the room with an -impressive tread. "Had you ever seen Letty Bodkin you might, indeed, -have known what love is"--he continued, breathing very hard--"Letty -Bodkin jilted me, and I got over it. I did not ask for razors, or -cannon balls, or foreign interment, sir; but I vented my indignation -like a man of business, in totting up the books, and running up a heavy -arrear in the office accounts--yes, sir, I did more good in the way of -arithmetic and book-keeping during that three weeks of love-sick agony, -than an ordinary man, without the stimulus, would do in a year"--there -was another pause here, and he resumed in a softened tone--"but Letty -Bodkin was no ordinary woman. Oh! you scoundrel, had you seen her, -you'd have been neither to hold nor to bind--there was nothing she -could not do--she embroidered a waistcoat for me--heigho! scarlet -geraniums and parsley sprigs--and she danced like--like a--a spring -board--she'd sail through a minuet like a duck in a pond, and hop and -bounce through 'Sir Roger de Coverley' like a hot chestnut on a -griddle;--and then she sang--oh, her singing!--I've heard turtle-doves -and thrushes, and, in fact, most kind of fowls of all sorts and sizes; -but no nightingale ever came up to her in 'The Captain endearing and -tall,' and 'The Shepherdess dying for love'--there never lived a -man"--continued he, with increasing vehemence--"I don't care when or -where, who could have stood, sate, or walked in her company for -half-an-hour, without making an old fool of himself--she was just my -age, perhaps a year or two more--I wonder whether she is much -changed--heigho!" - -Having thus delivered himself, Mr. Audley lapsed into meditation, and -thence into a faint and rather painful attempt to vocalize his -remembrance of "The Captain endearing and tall," engaged in which -desperate operation of memory, O'Connor left the old gentleman, and -returned to his temporary abode to pass a sleepless night of vain -remembrances, regrets, and despair. - -On the morning subsequent to the somewhat disorderly scene which we -have described as having occurred in the theatre, Mary Ashwoode, as -usual, sate silent and melancholy, in the dressing-room of her father, -Sir Richard. The baronet was not yet sufficiently recovered to venture -downstairs to breakfast, which in those days was a very early meal -indeed. After an unusually prolonged silence, the old man, turning -suddenly to his daughter, abruptly said, "Mary, you have now had some -days to study Lord Aspenly--how do you like him?" - -The girl raised her eyes, not a little surprised at the question, and -doubtful whether she had heard it aright. - -"I say," resumed he, "you ought to have been able by this time to -arrive at a fair judgment as to Lord Aspenly's merits--what do you -think of him--do you like him?" - -"Indeed, father," replied she, "I have observed him very little--he may -be a very estimable man, but I have not seen enough of him to form any -opinion; and indeed, if I had, _my_ opinion must needs be a matter of -the merest indifference to him and everyone else." - -"Your opinion upon this point," replied Sir Richard, tartly, "happens -_not_ to be a matter of indifference." - -A considerable pause again ensued, during which Mary Ashwoode had ample -time to reflect upon the very unpleasant doubts which this brief -speech, and the tone in which it was uttered, were calculated to -inspire. - -"Lord Aspenly's manners are very agreeable, _very_," continued Sir -Richard, meditatively--"I may say, indeed, fascinating--_very_--do you -think so?" he added sharply, turning towards his daughter. - -This was rather a puzzling question. The girl had never thought about -him except as a frivolous old beau; yet it was plain she could not say -so without vexing her father; she therefore adopted the simplest -expedient under such perplexing circumstances, and preserved an -embarrassed silence. - -"The fact is," said Sir Richard, raising himself a little, so as to -look full in his daughter's face, at the same time speaking slowly and -sternly, "the fact is, I had better be explicit on this subject. _I_ am -anxious that you should think well of Lord Aspenly; it is, in short, my -wish and pleasure that you should _like_ him; you understand me--you -had _better_ understand me." This was said with an emphasis not to be -mistaken, and another pause ensued. "For the present," continued he, -"run down and amuse yourself--and--stay--offer to show his lordship the -old terrace garden--do you mind? Now, once more, run away." - -So saying, the old gentleman turned coolly from her, and rang his -hand-bell vehemently. Scarcely knowing what she did, such was her -astonishment at all that had passed, Mary Ashwoode left the room -without any very clear notion as to whither she was going, or what to -do; nor was her confusion much relieved when, on entering the hall, the -first object which encountered her was Lord Aspenly himself, with his -triangular hat under his arm, while he adjusted his deep lace -ruffles--he had never looked so ugly before. As he stood beneath her -while she descended the broad staircase, smiling from ear to ear, and -bowing with the most chivalric profundity, his skinny, lemon-coloured -face, and cold, glittering little eyes raised toward her--she thought -that it was impossible for the human shape so nearly to assume the -outward semblance of a squat, emaciated toad. - -"Miss Ashwoode, as I live!" exclaimed the noble peer, with his most -gracious and fascinating smile. "On what mission of love and mercy does -she move? Shall I hope that her first act of pity may be exercised in -favour of the most devoted of her slaves? I have been looking in vain -for a guide through the intricacies of Sir Richard's yew hedges and -leaden statues; may I hope that my presiding angel has sent me one in -you?" - -Lord Aspenly paused, and grinned wider and wider, but receiving no -answer, he resumed,-- - -"I understand, Miss Ashwoode, that the pleasure-grounds, which surround -us, abound in samples of your exquisite taste; as a votary of Flora, -may I ask, if the request be not too bold, that you will vouchsafe to -lead a bewildered pilgrim to the object of his search? There is--is -there not?--shrined in the centre of these rustic labyrinths, a small -flower-garden which owes its sweet existence to your creative genius; -if it be not too remote, and if you can afford so much leisure, allow -me to implore your guidance." - -As he thus spoke, with a graceful flourish, the little gentleman -extended his hand, and courteously taking hers by the extreme points of -the fingers, he led her forward in a manner, as he thought, so engaging -as to put resistance out of the question. Mary Ashwoode felt far too -little interest in anything but the one ever-present grief which -weighed upon her heart, to deny the old fop his trifling request; -shrouding her graceful limbs, therefore, in a short cloak, and drawing -the hood over her head, she walked forth, with slow steps and an aching -heart, among the trim hedges which fenced the old-fashioned pleasure -walks. - -"Beauty," exclaimed the nobleman, as he walked with an air of romantic -gallantry by her side, and glancing as he spoke at the flowers which -adorned the border of the path--"beauty is nowhere seen to greater -advantage than in spots like this; where nature has amassed whatever is -most beautiful in the inanimate creation, only to prove how unutterably -more exquisite are the charms of _living_ loveliness: these walks, but -this moment to me a wilderness, are now so many paths of magic -pleasure--how can I enough thank the kind enchantress to whom I owe the -transformation?" Here the little gentleman looked unutterable things, -and a silence of some minutes ensued, during which he effected some -dozen very wheezy sighs. Emboldened by Miss Ashwoode's silence, which -he interpreted as a very unequivocal proof of conscious tenderness, he -resolved to put an end to the skirmishing with which he had opened his -attack, and to commence the action in downright earnestness. "This -place breathes an atmosphere of romance; it is a spot consecrated to -the worship of love; it is--it is the shrine of passion, and I--_I_ am -a votary--a worshipper." - -Miss Ashwoode paused in mingled surprise and displeasure, for his -vehemence had become so excessive as, in conjunction with his asthma, -to threaten to choke his lordship outright. When Mary Ashwoode stopped -short, Lord Aspenly took it for granted that the crisis had arrived, -and that the moment for the decisive onset was now come; he therefore -ejaculated with a rapturous croak,-- - -"And you--_you_ are my divinity!" and at the same moment he descended -stiffly upon his two knees, caught her hand in his, and began to mumble -it with unmistakable devotion. - -"My lord--Lord Aspenly!--surely your lordship cannot mean--have done, -my lord," exclaimed the astonished girl, withdrawing her hand -indignantly from his grasp. "Rise, my lord; you cannot mean otherwise -than to mock me by such extravagance. My lord--my lord, you surprise -and shock me beyond expression." - -"Angel of beauty! most exquisite--most perfect of your sex," gasped his -lordship, "I love you--yes, to distraction. Answer me, if you would not -have me expire at your feet--ugh--ugh--tell me that I may -hope--ugh--that I am not indifferent to you--ugh, ugh, ugh,--that--that -you can love me?" Here his lordship was seized with so violent a fit of -coughing, that Miss Ashwoode began to fear that he would expire at her -feet in downright earnest. During the paroxysm, in which, with one hand -pressed upon his side, he supported himself by leaning with the other -upon the ground, Mary had ample time to collect her thoughts, so that -when at length he had recovered his breath, she addressed him with -composure and decision. - -"My lord," she said, "I am grateful for your preference of me; -although, when I consider the shortness of my acquaintance with you, -and how few have been your opportunities of knowing me, I cannot but -wonder very much at its vehemence. For me, your lordship cannot feel -more than an idle fancy, which will, no doubt, pass away just as -lightly as it came; and as for my feelings, I have only to say, that it -is wholly impossible for you ever to establish in them any interest of -the kind you look for. Indeed, indeed, my lord, I hope I have not given -you pain--nothing can be further from my wish than to do so; but it is -my duty to tell you plainly and at once my real feelings. I should -otherwise but trifle with your kindness, for which, although I cannot -return it as you desire, I shall ever be grateful." - -Having thus spoken, she turned from her noble suitor, and began to -retrace her steps rapidly towards the house. - -"Stay, Miss Ashwoode--remain here for a moment--you _must_ hear me!" -exclaimed Lord Aspenly, in a tone so altered, that she involuntarily -paused, while his lordship, with some difficulty, raised himself again -to his feet, and with a flushed and haggard face, in which still -lingered the ghastly phantom of his habitual smile, he hobbled to her -side. "Miss Ashwoode," he exclaimed, in a tone tremulous with emotions -very different from love, "I--I--I am not used to be treated -cavalierly--I--I will not brook it: I am not to be trifled -with--jilted--madam, jilted, and taken in. You have accepted and -encouraged my attentions--attentions which you cannot have mistaken; -and now, madam, when I make you an offer--such as your ambition, your -most presumptuous ambition, dared not have anticipated--the offer of my -hand--and--and a coronet, you coolly tell me you never cared for me. -Why, what on earth do you look for or expect?--a foreign prince or -potentate, an emperor, ha--ha--he--he--ugh--ugh--ugh! I tell you -plainly, Miss Ashwoode, that _my_ feelings _must_ be considered. I have -long made my passion known to you; it has been encouraged; and I have -obtained Sir Richard's--your father's--sanction and approval. You had -better reconsider what you have said. I shall give you an hour; at the -end of that time, unless you see the propriety of avowing feelings -which, you must pardon me when I say it, your encouragement of my -advances has long virtually acknowledged, I must lay the whole case, -including all the painful details of my own ill-usage, before Sir -Richard Ashwoode, and trust to his powers of persuasion to induce you -to act reasonably, and, I _will_ add, _honourably_." - -Here his lordship took several extraordinarily copious pinches of -snuff, after which he bowed very low, conjured up an unusually hideous -smile, in which spite, fury, and triumph were eagerly mingled, and -hobbled away before the astonished girl had time to muster her spirits -sufficiently to answer him. - - - - -CHAPTER XXI. - -WHO APPEARED TO MARY ASHWOODE AS SHE SATE UNDER THE TREES--THE -CHAMPION. - - -With flashing eyes and a swelling heart, struck dumb with unutterable -indignation, the beautiful girl stood fixed in the attitude in which -his last words had reached her, while the enraged and unmanly old fop -hobbled away, with the ease and grace with which a crippled ape might -move over a hot griddle. He had disappeared for some minutes before she -had recovered herself sufficiently to think or speak. - -"If _he_ were by my side," she said, "this noble lord dared not have -used me thus. Edmond would have died a thousand deaths first. But oh! -God look upon me, for _his_ love is gone from me, and I am now a poor, -grieved, desolate creature, with none to help me." - -Thus saying, she sate herself down upon the grass bank, beneath the -tall and antique trees, and wept with all the bitter and devoted -abandonment of hopeless sorrow. From this unrestrained transport of -grief she was at length aroused by the pressure of a hand, gently and -kindly laid upon her shoulder. - -"What vexes you, Mary, my little girl?" inquired Major O'Leary, for he -it was that stood by her. "Come, darling, don't fret, but tell your old -uncle the whole business, and twenty to one, he has wit enough in his -old noddle yet to set matters to rights. So, so, my darling, dry your -pretty eyes--wipe the tears away; why should they wet your young -cheeks, my poor little doat, that you always were. It is too early yet -for sorrow to come on you. Wouldn't I throw myself between my little -pet and all grief and danger? Then trust to me, darling; wipe away the -tears, or by ---- I'll begin to cry myself. Dry your eyes, and see if I -can't help you one way or another." - -The mellow brogue of the old major had never fallen before with such a -tender pathos upon the ear of his beautiful niece, as now that its rich -current bore full upon her heart the unlooked-for words of kindness and -comfort. - -"Were not you always _my_ pet," continued he, with the same tenderness -and pity in his tone, "from the time I first took you upon my knee, my -poor little Mary? And were not you fond of your old rascally uncle -O'Leary? Usedn't I always to take your part, right or wrong; and do you -think I'll desert you now? Then tell it all to me--ain't I your poor -old uncle, the same as ever? Come, then, dry the tears--there's a -darling--wipe them away." - -While thus speaking, the warm-hearted old man took her hand, with a -touching mixture of gallantry, pity, and affection, and kissed it again -and again, with a thousand accompanying expressions of endearment, such -as in the days of her childhood he had been wont to lavish upon his -little favourite. The poor girl, touched by the kindness of her early -friend, whose good-natured sympathy was not to be mistaken, gradually -recovered her composure, and yielding to the urgencies of the major, -who clearly perceived that something extraordinarily distressing must -have occurred to account for her extreme agitation, she at length told -him the immediate cause of her grief and excitement. The major listened -to the narrative with growing indignation, and when it had ended, he -inquired, in a tone, about whose unnatural calmness there was something -infinitely more formidable than in the noisiest clamour of fury,-- - -"Which way, darling, did his lordship go when he left you?" - -The girl looked in his face, and saw his deadly purpose there. - -"Uncle, my own dear uncle," she cried distractedly, "for God's sake do -not follow him--for God's sake--I conjure you, I implore--" She would -have cast herself at his feet, but the major caught her in his arms. - -"Well, well, my darling." he exclaimed, "I'll not _kill_ him, well as -he deserves it--I'll not: you have saved his life. I pledge you my -honour, as a gentleman and a soldier, I'll not harm him for what he has -said or done this day--are you satisfied?" - -"I am, I am! Thank God, thank God!" exclaimed the poor girl, eagerly. - -"But, Mary, I must see him," rejoined the major; "he has threatened to -set Sir Richard upon you--I must see him; you don't object to that, -under the promise I have made? I want to--to _reason_ with him. He -shall not get you into trouble with the baronet; for though Richard and -I came of the same mother, we are not of the same marriage, nor of the -same mould--I would not for a cool hundred that he told his story to -your father." - -"Indeed, indeed, dear uncle," replied the girl, "I fear me there is -little hope of escape or ease for me. My father must know what has -passed; he will learn it inevitably, and then it needs no colouring or -misrepresentation to call down upon me his heaviest displeasure; his -anger I must endure as best I may. God help me. But neither threats nor -violence shall make me retract the answer I have given to Lord Aspenly, -nor ever yield consent to marry _him_--nor any other now." - -"Well, well, little Mary," rejoined the major, "I like your spirit. -Stand to that, and you'll never be sorry for it. In the meantime, I'll -venture to exercise his lordship's conversational powers in a brief -conference of a few minutes, and if I find him as reasonable as I -expect, you'll have no cause to regret my interposition. Don't look so -frightened--haven't I promised, on the honour of a gentleman, that I -will _not_ pink him for anything said or done in his conference with -you? To send a small sword through a bolster or a bailiff," he -continued, meditatively, "is an _indifferent_ action; but to spit such -a poisonous, crawling toad as the respectable old gentleman in -question, would be nothing short of _meritorious_--it is an act that -'ud tickle the fancy of every saint in heaven, and, if there's justice -on earth, would canonize myself. But never mind, I'll let it alone--the -little thing shall escape, since _you_ wish it--Major O'Leary has said -it, so let no doubt disturb you. Good-bye, my little darling, dry your -eyes, and let me see you, before an hour, as merry as in the merriest -days that are gone." - -So saying, Major O'Leary patted her cheek, and taking her hand -affectionately in both his, he added,-- - -"Sure I am, that there is more in all this than you care to tell me, my -little pet. I am sorely afraid there is something beyond my power to -remedy, to change your light-hearted nature so mournfully. What it is, -I will not inquire, but remember, darling, whenever you want a friend, -you'll find a sure one in me." - -Thus having spoken, he turned from her, and strode rapidly down the -walk, until the thick, formal hedges concealed his retreating form -behind their impenetrable screens of darksome verdure. - -Odd as were the manner and style of the major's professions, there was -something tender, something of heartiness, in his speech, which assured -her that she had indeed found a friend in him--rash, volatile, and -violent it might be, but still one on whose truth and energy she might -calculate. That there was one being who felt with her and for her, was -a discovery which touched her heart and moved her generous spirit, and -she now regarded the old major, whose spoiled favourite in childhood -she had been, but whom, before, she had never known capable of a -serious feeling, with emotions of affection and gratitude, stronger and -more ardent than he had ever earned from any other being. Agitated, -grieved, and excited, she hurriedly left the scene of this interview, -and sought relief for her overcharged feelings in the quiet and -seclusion of her chamber. - - - - -CHAPTER XXII. - -THE SPINET. - - -In no very pleasant frame of mind did Lord Aspenly retrace his steps -toward the old house. His lordship had, all his life, been firmly -persuaded that the whole female creation had been sighing and pining -for the possession of his heart and equipage. He knew that among those -with whom his chief experience lay, his fortune and his coronet were -considerations not to be resisted; and he as firmly believed, that even -without such recommendations, few women, certainly none of any taste or -discrimination, could be found with hearts so steeled against the -archery of Cupid, as to resist the fascinations of his manner and -conversation, supported and directed, as both were, by the tact and -experience drawn from a practice of more years than his lordship cared -to count, even to himself. He had, however, smiled, danced, and -chatted, in impregnable celibacy, through more than half a century of -gaiety and frivolity--breaking, as he thought, hearts innumerable, and, -at all events, disappointing very many calculations--until, at length, -his lordship had arrived at that precise period of existence at which -old gentlemen, not unfrequently, become all at once romantic, -disinterested, and indiscreet--nobody exactly knows why--unless it be -for variety, or to spite an heir presumptive, or else that, as a -preliminary to second childhood, nature has ordained a second _boyhood_ -too. Certain, however, it is, that Lord Aspenly was seized, on a -sudden, with a matrimonial frenzy; and, tired of the hackneyed -schemers, in the centre of whose manoeuvres he had stood and smiled so -long in contemptuous security, he resolved that his choice should -honour some simple, unsophisticated beauty, who had never plotted his -matrimony. - -Fired with this benevolent resolution, he almost instantly selected -Mary Ashwoode as the happy companion of his second childhood, -acquainted Sir Richard with his purpose, of course received his consent -and blessing, and forthwith opened his entrenchments with the same -certainty of success with which the great Duke of Marlborough might -have invested a Flanders village. The inexperience of a girl who had -mixed, comparatively, so little in gay society, her consequent openness -to flattery, and susceptibility of being fascinated by the elegance of -his address, and the splendour of his fortune--all these -considerations, accompanied by a clear consciousness of his own -infinite condescension in thinking of her at all, had completely -excluded from all his calculations the very possibility of her doing -anything else than jump into his arms the moment he should open them to -receive her. The result of the interview which had just taken place, -had come upon him with the overwhelming suddenness of a thunderbolt. -Rejected!--Lord Aspenly rejected!--a coronet, and a fortune, and a man -whom all the male world might envy--each and all rejected!--and by -whom?--a chit of a girl, who had no right to look higher than a -half-pay captain with a wooden leg, or a fox-hunting boor, with a few -inaccessible acres of bog and mountain--the daughter of a spendthrift -baronet, who was, as everyone knew, on the high road to ruin. Death and -fury! was it to be endured? - -The little lover, absorbed in such tranquilizing reflections, arrived -at the house, and entered the drawing-room. It was not unoccupied; -seated by a spinet, and with a sheet of music-paper in her lap, and a -pencil in her hand, was the fair Emily Copland. As he entered, she -raised her eyes, started a little, became gracefully confused, and -then, with her archest smile, exclaimed,-- - -"What shall I say, my lord? You have detected me. I have neither -defence nor palliation to offer; you have fairly caught me. Here am I -engaged in perhaps the most presumptuous task that ever silly maiden -undertook--I am wedding your beautiful verses to most unworthy music of -my own. After all, there is nothing like a simple ballad. Such -exquisite lines as these inspire music of themselves. Would that Henry -Purcell had had but a peep at them! To what might they not have -prompted such a genius--to what, indeed?" - -So sublime was the flight of fancy suggested by this interrogatory, -that Miss Copland shook her head slowly in poetic rapture, and gazed -fondly for some seconds upon the carpet, apparently unconscious of Lord -Aspenly's presence. - -"_She_ is a fine creature," half murmured he, with an emphasis upon the -identity which implied a contrast not very favourable to -Mary--"and--and very pretty--nay, she looks almost beautiful, and -so--so lively--so much vivacity. Never was poor poet so much -flattered," continued his lordship, approaching, as he spoke, and -raising his voice, but not above its most mellifluous pitch; "to have -his verses read by _such_ eyes, to have them chanted by such a -minstrel, were honour too high for the noblest bards of the noblest -days of poetry: for me it is a happiness almost too great; yet, if the -request be not a presumptuous one, may I, in all humility, pray that -you will favour me with the music to which you have coupled my most -undeserving--my most favoured lines?" - -The young lady looked modest, glanced coyly at the paper which lay in -her lap, looked modest once more, and then arch again, and at length, -with rather a fluttered air, she threw her hands over the keys of the -instrument, and to a tune, of which we say enough when we state that it -was in no way unworthy of the words, she sang, rather better than young -ladies usually do, the following exquisite stanzas from his lordship's -pen:-- - - "Tho' Chloe slight me when I woo, - And scorn the love of poor Philander; - The shepherd's heart she scorns is true, - His heart is true, his passion tender. - - "But poor Philander sighs in vain, - In vain laments the poor Philander; - Fair Chloe scorns with high disdain, - His love so true and passion tender. - - "And here Philander lays him down, - Here will expire the poor Philander; - The victim of fair Chloe's frown, - Of love so true and passion tender. - - "Ah, well-a-day! the shepherd's dead; - Ay, dead and gone, the poor Philander; - And Dryads crown with flowers his head, - And Cupid mourns his love so tender." - -During this performance, Lord Aspenly, who had now perfectly recovered -his equanimity, marked the time with head and hand, standing the while -beside the fair performer, and every note she sang found its way -through the wide portals of his vanity, directly to his heart. - -"Brava! brava! bravissima!" murmured his lordship, from time to time. -"Beautiful, beautiful air--most appropriate--most simple; not a note -that accords not with the word it carries--beautiful, indeed! A -thousand thanks! I have become quite conceited of lines of which -heretofore I was half ashamed. I am quite elated--at once overpowered -by the characteristic vanity of the poet, and more than recompensed by -the reality of his proudest aspiration--that of seeing his verses -appreciated by a heart of sensibility, and of hearing them sung by the -lips of beauty." - -"I am but too happy if I am _forgiven_," replied Emily Copland, -slightly laughing, and with a heightened colour, while the momentary -overflow of merriment was followed by a sigh, and her eyes sank -pensively upon the ground. - -This little by-play was not lost upon Lord Aspenly. - -"Poor little thing," he inwardly remarked, "she is in a very bad -way--desperate--quite desperate. What a devil of a rascal I am to be -sure! Egad! it's almost a pity--she's a decidedly superior person; she -has an elegant turn of mind--refinement--taste--egad! she is a fine -creature--and so simple. She little knows I see it all; perhaps she -hardly knows herself what ails her--poor, poor little thing!" - -While these thoughts floated rapidly through his mind, he felt, along -with his spite and anger towards Mary Ashwoode, a feeling of contempt, -almost of disgust, engendered by her audacious non-appreciation of his -merits--an impertinence which appeared the more monstrous by the -contrast of Emily Copland's tenderness. _She_ had made it plain enough, -by all the artless signs which simple maidens know not how to hide, -that his fascinations had done their fatal work upon her heart. He had -seen, this for several days, but not with the overwhelming distinctness -with which he now beheld it. - -"Poor, poor little girl!" said his lordship to himself; "I am very, -very sorry, but it cannot be helped; it is no fault of mine. I am -really very, very, confoundedly sorry." - -In saying so to himself, however, he told himself a lie; for, instead -of being grieved, he was pleased beyond measure--a fact which he might -have ascertained by a single glance at the reflection of his wreathed -smiles in the ponderous mirror which hung forward from the pier between -the windows, as if staring down in wondering curiosity upon the -progress of the flirtation. Not caring to disturb a train of thought -which his vanity told him were but riveting the subtle chains which -bound another victim to his conquering chariot-wheels, the Earl of -Aspenly turned, with careless ease, to a table, on which lay some -specimens of that worsted tapestry-work, in which the fair maidens of a -century and a half ago were wont to exercise their taste and skill. - -"Your work is very, very beautiful," said he, after a considerable -pause, and laying down the canvas, upon whose unfinished worsted task -he had been for some time gazing. - -"That is my _cousin's_ work," said Emily, not sorry to turn the -conversation to a subject upon which, for many reasons, she wished to -dwell; "she used to work a great deal with me before she grew -romantic--before she fell in love." - -"In love!--with whom?" inquired Lord Aspenly, with remarkable -quickness. - -"Don't you know, my lord?" inquired Emily Copland, in simple wonder. -"May be I ought not to have told you--I am sure I ought not. Do not ask -me any more. I am the giddiest girl--the most thoughtless!" - -"Nay, nay," said Lord Aspenly, "you need not be afraid to trust _me_--I -never tell tales; and now that I know the fact that she is in love, -there can be no harm in telling me the less important particulars. On -my honour," continued his lordship, with real earnestness, and affected -playfulness--"upon my sacred honour! I shall not breathe one syllable -of it to mortal--I shall be as secret as the tomb. Who is the happy -person in question?" - -"Well, my lord, you'll _promise_ not to betray me," replied she. "I -know very well I ought not to have said a word about it; but as I -_have_ made the blunder, I see no harm in telling you all I know; but -you _will_ be secret?" - -"On my honour--on my life and soul, I swear!" exclaimed his lordship, -with unaffected eagerness. - -"Well, then, the happy man is a Mr. Edmond O'Connor," replied she. - -"O'Connor--O'Connor--I never saw nor heard of the man before," rejoined -the earl, reflectively. "Is he wealthy?" - -"Oh! no; a mere beggarman," replied Emily, "and a Papist to boot!" - -"Ha, ha, ha--he, he, he! a Papist beggar," exclaimed his lordship, with -an hysterical giggle, which was intended for a careless laugh. "Has he -any conversation--any manner--any attraction of _that_ kind?" - -"Oh! none in the world!--both ignorant, and I think, vulgar," replied -Emily. "In short, he is very nearly a stupid boor!" - -"Excellent! Ha, ha--he, he, he!--ugh! ugh!--very capital--excellent! -excellent!" exclaimed his lordship, although he might have found some -difficulty in explaining in what, precisely the peculiar excellence of -the announcement consisted. "Is he--is he--a--a--_handsome_?" - -"Decidedly _not_ what I consider handsome!" replied she; "he is a -large, coarse-looking fellow, with very broad shoulders--very -large--and as they say of oxen, in very great condition--a sort of a -prize man!" - -"Ha, ha!--ugh! ugh!--he, he, he, he, he!--ugh, ugh, -ugh!--de--lightful--quite delightful!" exclaimed the earl, in a tone of -intense chagrin, for he was conscious that his own figure was perhaps a -little too scraggy, and his legs a _leetle_ too nearly approaching the -genus spindle, and being so, there was no trait in the female character -which he so inveterately abhorred and despised as their tendency to -prefer those figures which exhibited a due proportion of thew and -muscle. Under a cloud of rappee, his lordship made a desperate attempt -to look perfectly delighted and amused, and effected a retreat to the -window, where he again indulged in a titter of unutterable spite and -vexation. - -"And what says Sir Richard to the advances of this very desirable -gentleman?" inquired he, after a little time. - -"Sir Richard is, of course, violently against it," replied Emily -Copland. - -"So I should have supposed," returned the little nobleman, briskly. And -turning again to the window, he relapsed into silence, looked out -intently for some minutes, took more snuff, and finally, consulting his -watch, with a few words of apology, and a gracious smile and a bow, -quitted the room. - - - - -CHAPTER XXIII. - -THE DARK ROOM--CONTAINING PLENTY OF SCARS AND BRUISES AND PLANS OF -VENGEANCE. - - -On the same day a very different scene was passing in another quarter, -whither for a few moments we must transport the reader. In a large and -aristocratic-looking brick house, situated near the then fashionable -suburb of Glasnevin, surrounded by stately trees, and within furnished -with the most prodigal splendour, combined with the strictest and most -minute attention to comfort and luxury, and in a large and lofty -chamber, carefully darkened, screened round by the rich and voluminous -folds of the silken curtains, with spider-tables laden with fruits and -wines and phials of medicine, crowded around him, and rather buried -than supported among a luxurious pile of pillows, lay, in sore bodily -torment, with fevered pulse, and heart and brain busy with a thousand -projects of revenge, the identical Nicholas Blarden, whose signal -misadventure in the theatre, upon the preceding evening, we have -already recorded. A decent-looking matron sate in a capacious chair, -near the bed, in the capacity of nurse-tender, while her constrained -and restless manner, as well as the frightened expression with which, -from time to time, she stole a glance at the bloated mass of scars and -bruises, of which she had the care, pretty plainly argued the sweet and -patient resignation with which her charge endured his sufferings. In -the recess of the curtained window sate a little black boy, arrayed -according to the prevailing fashion, in a fancy suit, and with a turban -on his head, and carrying in his awe-struck countenance, as well as in -the immobility of his attitude, a woeful contradiction to the gaiety of -his attire. - -"Drink--drink--where's that d----d hag?--give me drink, I say!" howled -the prostrate gambler. - -The woman started to her feet, and with a step which fell noiselessly -upon the deep-piled carpets which covered the floor, she hastened to -supply him. - -He had hardly swallowed the draught, when a low knock at the door -announced a visitor. - -"Come in, can't you?" shouted Blarden. - -"How do you feel now, Nicky dear?" inquired a female voice--and a -handsome face, with rather a bold expression, and crowned by a small -mob-cap, overlaid with a profusion of the richest lace, peeped into the -room through the half-open door--"how do you feel?" - -"In _hell_--that's all," shouted he. - -"Doctor Mallarde is below, love," added she, without evincing either -surprise or emotion of any kind at the concise announcement which the -patient had just delivered. - -"Let him come up then," was the reply. - -"And a Mr. M'Quirk--a messenger from Mr. Chancey." - -"Let _him_ come up too. But why the hell did not Chancey come -himself?--That will do--pack--be off." - -The lady tossed her head, like one having authority, looked half -inclined to say something sharp, but thought better of it, and -contented herself with shutting the door with more emphasis than Dr. -Mallarde would have recommended. - -The physician of those days was a solemn personage: he would as readily -have appeared without his head, as without his full-bottomed wig; and -his ponderous gold-headed cane was a sort of fifth limb, the -supposition of whose absence involved a contradiction to the laws of -anatomy; his dress was rich and funereal; his step was slow and -pompous; his words very long and very few; his look was mysterious; his -nod awful; and the shake of his head unfathomable: in short, he was in -no respect very much better than a modern charlatan. The science which -he professed was then overgrown with absurdities and mystification. The -temper of the times was superstitious and credulous, the physician, -being wise in his generation, framed his outward man (including his air -and language) accordingly, and the populace swallowed his long words -and his electuaries with equal faith. - -Doctor Mallarde was a doctor-like person, and, in theatrical -phraseology, looked the part well. He was tall and stately, saturnine -and sallow in aspect, had bushy, grizzled brows, and a severe and -prominent dark eye, a thin, hooked nose, and a pair of lips just as -thin as it. Along with these advantages he had a habit of pressing the -gold head of his professional cane against one corner of his mouth, in -a way which produced a sinister and mysterious distortion of that -organ; and by exhibiting the medical baton, the outward and visible -sign of doctorship, in immediate juxtaposition with the fountain of -language, added enormously to the gravity and authority of the words -which from time to time proceeded therefrom. - -In the presence of such a spectre as this--intimately associated with -all that was nauseous and deadly on earth--it is hardly to be wondered -at that even Nicholas Blarden felt himself somewhat uneasy and abashed. -The physician felt his pulse, gazing the while upon the ceiling, and -pressing the gold head of his cane, as usual, to the corner of his -mouth; made him put out his tongue, asked him innumerable questions, -which we forbear to publish, and ended by forbidding his patient the -use of every comfort in which he had hitherto found relief, and by -writing a prescription which might have furnished a country dispensary -with good things for a twelvemonth. He then took his leave and his fee, -with the grisly announcement, that unless the drugs were all swallowed, -and the other matters attended to in a spirit of absolute submission, -he would not answer for the life of the patient. - -"I am d----d glad he's gone at last," exclaimed Blarden, with a kind of -gasp, as if a weight had been removed from his breast. "Curse me, if I -did not feel all the time as if my coffin was in the room. Are you -there, M'Quirk?" - -"Here I am, Mr. Blarden," rejoined the person addressed, whom we may as -well describe, as we shall have more to say about him by-and-by. - -Mr. M'Quirk was a small, wiry man, of fifty years and upwards, arrayed -in that style which is usually described as "shabby genteel." He was -gifted with one of those mean and commonplace countenances which seem -expressly made for the effectual concealment of the thoughts and -feelings of the possessor--an advantage which he further secured by -habitually keeping his eyes as nearly closed as might be, so that, for -any indication afforded by them of the movements of the inward man, -they might as well have been shut up altogether. The peculiarity, if -not the grace, of his appearance, was heightened by a contraction of -the muscles at the nape of the neck, which drew his head backward, and -produced a corresponding elevation of the chin, which, along with a -certain habitual toss of the head, gave to his appearance a kind of -caricatured affectation of superciliousness and _hauteur_, very -impressive to behold. Along with the swing of the head, which we have -before noticed, there was, whenever he spoke, a sort of careless -libration of the whole body, which, together with a certain way of -jerking or twitching the right shoulder from time to time, were the -only approaches to gesticulation in which he indulged. - -"Well, what does your master say?" inquired Blarden--"out with it, -can't you." - -"Master--master--indeed! Cock _him_ up with _master_," echoed the man, -with lofty disdain. - -"Ay! what does he say?" reiterated Blarden, in no very musical tones. -"D---- you, are you choking, or moonstruck? Out with it, can't you?" - -"_Chancey_ says that you had better think the matter over--and that's -his opinion," replied M'Quirk. - -"And a fine opinion it is," rejoined Blarden, furiously. "Why, in -hell's name, what's the matter with him--the--drivelling idiot? What's -law for--what's the courts for? Am I to be trounced and cudgelled in -the face of hundreds, and--and half _murdered_, and nothing for it? I -tell you, I'll be beggared before the scoundrel shall escape. If every -penny I'm worth in the world can buy it, I'll have justice. Tell that -sleepy sot Chancey that I'll _make_ him work. Ho--o--o--oh!" bawled the -wretch, as his anguish all returned a hundredfold in the fruitless -attempt to raise himself in bed. - -"Drink, here--_drink_--I'm choking! Hock and water. D---- you, don't -look so stupid and frightened. I'll not be bamboozled by an old -'pothecary. Quick with it, you fumbling witch." - -He finished the draught, and lay silently for a time. - -"See--mind me, M'Quirk," he said, after a pause, "tell Chancey to come -out himself--tell him to be here before evening, or I'll make him sorry -for it, do you mind; I want to give him directions. Tell him to come at -once, or I'll make him _smoke_ for it, that's all." - -"I understand--all right--very well; and so, as you seem settling for a -snooze, I wish you good-evening, Mr. Blarden, and all sorts of pleasure -and happiness," rejoined the messenger. - -The patient answered by a grin and a stifled howl, and Mr. M'Quirk, -having his head within the curtains, which screened him effectually -from the observation of the two attendants, and observing that Mr. -Blarden's eyes were closely shut in the rigid compression of pain, put -out his tongue, and indulged for a few seconds in an exceedingly ugly -grimace, after which, repeating his farewell in a tone of respectful -sympathy, he took his departure, chuckling inwardly all the way -downstairs, for the little gentleman had a playful turn for mischief. - -When Gordon Chancey, Esquire, barrister-at-law, in obedience to this -summons, arrived at Cherry Hill, for so the residence of the sick -voluptuary was called, he found his loving friend and patron, Nicholas -Blarden, babbling not of green fields, but of green curtains, theatres, -dice-boxes, bright eyes, small-swords, and the shades infernal--in a -word, in a high state of delirium. On calling next day, however, he -beheld him much recovered; and after an extremely animated discussion, -these two well-assorted confederates at length, by their united -ingenuity, succeeded in roughly sketching the outlines of a plan of -terrific vengeance, in all respects worthy of the diabolical council in -which it originated, and of whose progress and development this history -very fully treats. - - - - -CHAPTER XXIV. - -A CRITIC--A CONDITION--AND THE SMALL-SWORDS. - - -Lord Aspenly walked forth among the trim hedges and secluded walks -which surrounded the house, and by alternately taking enormous pinches -of rappee, and humming a favourite air or two, he wonderfully assisted -his philosophy in recovering his equanimity. - -"It matters but little how the affair ends," thought his lordship, "if -in matrimony--the girl is, after all, a very fine girl: but if the -matter is fairly off, in that case I shall--look very foolish," -suggested his conscience faintly, but his lordship dismissed the -thought precipitately--"in that case I shall make it a point to marry -within a fortnight. I should like to know the girl who would refuse -_me_"--"_the only one you ever asked_," suggested his conscience again, -but with no better result--"I should like to see the girl of sense or -discrimination who _could_ refuse me. I shall marry the finest girl in -the country, and _then_ I presume very few will be inclined to call me -fool." - -"Not _I_ for one, my lord," exclaimed a voice close by. Lord Aspenly -started, for he was conscious that in his energy he had uttered the -concluding words of his proud peroration with audible emphasis, and -became instantly aware that the speaker was no other than Major -O'Leary. - -"Not _I_ for one, my lord," repeated the major, with extreme gravity, -"I take it for granted, my lord, that you are no fool." - -"I am obliged to you, Major O'Leary, for your good opinion," replied -his lordship, drily, with a surprised look and a stiff inclination of -his person. - -"Nothing to be grateful for in it," replied the major, returning the -bow with grave politeness: "if years and discretion increase together, -you and I ought to be models of wisdom by this time of day. I'm proud -of my years, my lord, and I would be half as proud again if I could -count as many as your lordship." - -There was something singularly abrupt and uncalled for in all this, -which Lord Aspenly did not very well understand; he therefore stopped -short, and looked in the major's face; but reading in its staid and -formal gravity nothing whatever to furnish a clue to his exact purpose, -he made a kind of short bow, and continued his walk in dignified -silence. There was something exceedingly disagreeable, he thought, in -the manner of his companion--something very near approaching to cool -impertinence--which he could not account for upon any other supposition -than that the major had been prematurely indulging in the joys of -Bacchus. If, however, he thought that by the assumption of the frigid -and lofty dignity with which he met the advances of the major, he was -likely to relieve himself of his company, he was never more lamentably -mistaken. His military companion walked with a careless swagger by his -side, exactly regulating his pace by that of the little nobleman, whose -meditations he had so cruelly interrupted. - -"What on earth is to be done with this brute beast?" muttered his -lordship, taking care, however, that the query should not reach the -subject of it. "I must get rid of him--I must speak with the girl -privately--what the deuce is to be done?" - -They walked on a little further in perfect silence. At length his -lordship stopped short and exclaimed,-- - -"My dear major, I am a very dull companion--quite a bore; there are -times when the mind--the--the--spirits require _solitude_--and these -walks are the very scene for a lonely ramble. I dare venture to aver -that you are courting solitude like myself--your silence betrays -you--then pray do not stand on ceremony--_that_ walk leads down toward -the river--pray no ceremony." - -"Upon my conscience, my lord, I never was less inclined to stand on -ceremony than I am at this moment," replied the major; "so give -yourself no trouble in the world about me. Nothing would annoy me so -much as to have you think I was doing anything but precisely what I -liked best myself." - -Lord Aspenly bowed, took a violent pinch of snuff, and walked on, the -major still keeping by his side. After a long silence his lordship -began to lilt his own sweet verses in a careless sort of a way, which -was intended to convey to his tormentor that he had totally forgotten -his presence:-- - - "Tho' Chloe slight me when I woo, - And scorn the love of poor Philander; - The shepherd's heart she scorns is true, - His heart is true, his passion tender." - -"Passion tender," observed the major--"_passion_ tender--it's a -_nurse_-tender the like of you and me ought to be looking -for--_passion_ tender--upon my conscience, a good joke." - -Lord Aspenly was strongly tempted to give vent to his feelings; but -even at the imminent risk of bursting, he managed to suppress his fury. -The major was certainly (however unaccountable and mysterious the fact -might be) in a perfectly cut-throat frame of mind, and Lord Aspenly had -no desire to present _his_ weasand for the entertainment of his -military friend. - -"Tender--_tender_," continued the inexorable major, "allow me, my lord, -to suggest the word _tough_ as an improvement--_tender_, my lord, is a -term which does not apply to chickens beyond a certain time of life, -and it strikes me as too bold a license of poetry to apply it to a -gentleman of such extreme and venerable old age as your lordship; for I -take it for granted that Philander is another name for yourself." - -As the major uttered this critical remark, Lord Aspenly felt his brain, -as it were, fizz with downright fury; the instinct of self-preservation, -however, triumphed; he mastered his generous indignation, and resumed -his walk in a state of mind nothing short of awful. - -"My lord," inquired the major, with tragic abruptness, and with very -stern emphasis--"I take the liberty of asking, _have you made your -soul_?" - -The precise nature of the major's next proceeding, Lord Aspenly could -not exactly predict; of one thing, however, he felt assured, and that -was, that the designs of his companion were decidedly of a dangerous -character, and as he gazed in mute horror upon the major, confused but -terrific ideas of "homicidal monomania," and coroner's inquests floated -dimly through his distracted brain. - -"My soul?" faltered he, in undisguised trepidation. - -"Yes, my lord," repeated the major, with remarkable coolness, "have you -made your soul?" - -During this conference his lordship's complexion had shifted from its -original lemon-colour to a lively orange, and thence faded gradually -off into a pea-green; at which hue it remained fixed during the -remainder of the interview. - -"I protest--you cannot be serious--I am wholly in the dark. Positively, -Major O'Leary, this is very unaccountable conduct--you really -ought--pray explain." - -"Upon my conscience, I _will_ explain," rejoined the major, "although -the explanation won't make you much more in love with your present -predicament, unless I am very much out. You made my niece, Mary -Ashwoode, an offer of marriage to-day; well, she was much obliged to -you, but she did not _want_ to marry you, and she told you so civilly. -Did you then, like a man and a gentleman, take your answer from her as -you ought to have done, quietly and courteously? No, you did not; you -went to bully the poor girl, and to insult her; because she politely -declined to marry a--a--an ugly bunch of wrinkles, like you; and you -threatened to tell Sir Richard--ay, you _did_--to tell him your pitiful -story, you--you--you--but wait awhile. You want to have the poor girl -frightened and bullied into marrying you. Where's your spirit or your -feeling, my lord? But you don't know what the words mean. If ever you -did, you'd sooner have been racked to death, than have terrified and -insulted a poor friendless girl, as you thought her. But she's _not_ -friendless. I'll teach you she's not. As long as this arm can lift a -small-sword, and while the life is in my body, I'll never see any woman -maltreated by a scoundrel--a _scoundrel_, my lord; but I'll bring him -to his knees for it, or die in the attempt. And holding these opinions, -did you think I'd let you offend my niece? _No_, sir, I'd be blown to -atoms first." - -"Major O'Leary," replied his lordship, as soon as he had collected his -thoughts and recovered breath to speak, "your conduct is exceedingly -violent--very, and, I will add, most hasty and indiscreet. You have -entirely misconceived me, you have mistaken the whole affair. You will -regret this violence--I protest--I know you will, when you understand -the whole matter. At present, knowing the nature of your feelings, I -protest, though I might naturally resent your observations, it is not -in my nature, in my _heart_ to be angry." This was spoken with a very -audible quaver. - -"You _would_, my lord, you _would_ be angry," rejoined the major, -"you'd _dance_ with fury this moment, if you _dared_. You could find it -in your heart to go into a passion with a _girl_; but talking with men -is a different sort of thing. Now, my lord, we are both here, with our -swords; no place can be more secluded, and, I presume, no two men more -willing. Pray draw, my lord, or I'll be apt to spoil your velvet and -gold lace." - -"Major O'Leary, I _will_ be heard!" exclaimed Lord Aspenly, with an -earnestness which the imminent peril of his person inspired--"I _must_ -have a word or two with you, before we put this dispute to so deadly an -arbitrament." - -The major had foreseen and keenly enjoyed the reluctance and the -evident tremors of his antagonist. He returned his half-drawn sword to -its scabbard with an impatient thrust, and, folding his arms, looked -down with supreme contempt upon the little peer. - -"Major O'Leary, you have been misinformed--Miss Ashwoode has mistaken -me. I assure you, I meant no disrespect--none in the world, I protest. -I may have spoken hastily--perhaps I did--but I never intended -disrespect--never for a moment." - -"Well, my lord, suppose that I admit that you did _not_ mean any -disrespect; and suppose that I distinctly assert that I have neither -right nor inclination just now to call you to an account for anything -you may have said, in your interview this morning, offensive to my -niece; I give you leave to suppose it, and, what's more, in supposing -it, I solemnly aver, you suppose neither more nor less than the exact -truth," said the major. - -"Well, then, Major O'Leary," replied Lord Aspenly, "I profess myself -wholly at a loss to understand your conduct. I presume, at all events, -that nothing further need pass between us about the matter." - -"Not so fast, my lord, if you please," rejoined the major; "a great -deal more must pass between us before I have done with your lordship; -although I cannot punish you for the past, I have a perfect right to -restrain you for the future. I have a proposal to make, to which I -expect your lordship's assent--a proposal which, under the -circumstances, I dare say, you will think, however unpleasant, by no -means unreasonable." - -"Pray state it," said Lord Aspenly, considerably reassured on finding -that the debate was beginning to take a diplomatic turn. - -"This is my proposal, then," replied the major: "you shall write a -letter to Sir Richard, renouncing all pretensions to his daughter's -hand, and taking upon yourself the whole responsibility of the measure, -without implicating _her_ directly or indirectly; do you mind: and you -shall leave this place, and go wherever you please, before supper-time -to-night. These are the conditions on which I will consent to spare -you, my lord, and upon no other shall you escape." - -"Why, what can you mean, Major O'Leary?" exclaimed the little coxcomb, -distractedly. "If I did any such thing, I should be run through by Sir -Richard or his rakehelly son; besides, I came here for a wife--my -friends know it; I _cannot_ consent to make a fool of myself. How -_dare_ you presume to propose such conditions to me?" - -The little gentleman as he wound up, had warmed so much, that he placed -his hand on the hilt of his sword. Without one word of commentary, the -major drew his, and with a nod of invitation, threw himself into an -attitude of defence, and resting the point of his weapon upon the -ground, awaited the attack of his adversary. Perhaps Lord Aspenly -regretted the precipitate valour which had prompted him to place his -hand on his sword-hilt, as much as he had ever regretted any act of his -whole life; it was, however, too late to recede, and with the hurried -manner of one who has made up his mind to a disagreeable thing, and -wishes it soon over, he drew his also, and their blades were instantly -crossed in mortal opposition. - - - - -CHAPTER XXV. - -THE COMBAT AND ITS ISSUE. - - -Lord Aspenly made one or two eager passes at his opponent, which were -parried with perfect ease and coolness; and before he had well -recovered his position from the last of those lunges, a single clanging -sweep of the major's sword, taking his adversary's blade from the point -to the hilt with irresistible force, sent his lordship's weapon -whirring through the air some eight or ten yards away. - -"Take your life, my lord," said the major, contemptuously; "I give it -to you freely, only wishing the present were more valuable. What do you -say _now_, my lord, to the terms?" - -"I say, sir--what do _I_ say?" echoed his lordship, not very -coherently. "Major O'Leary, you have disarmed me, sir, and you ask me -what I say to your terms. What do I say? Why, sir, I say again what I -said before, that I cannot and will not subscribe to them." - -Lord Aspenly, having thus delivered himself, looked half astonished and -half frightened at his own valour. - -"Everyone to his taste--your lordship has an uncommon inclination for -slaughter," observed the major coolly, walking to the spot where lay -the little gentleman's sword, raising it, and carelessly presenting it -to him: "take it, my lord, and use it more cautiously than you _have_ -done--defend yourself!" - -Little expecting another encounter, yet ashamed to decline it, his -lordship, with a trembling hand, grasped the weapon once more, and -again their blades were crossed in deadly combat. This time his -lordship prudently forbore to risk his safety by an impetuous attack -upon an adversary so cool and practised as the major, and of whose -skill he had just had so convincing a proof. Major O'Leary, therefore, -began the attack; and pressing his opponent with some slight feints and -passes, followed him closely as he retreated for some twenty yards, and -then, suddenly striking up to the point of his lordship's sword with -his own, he seized the little nobleman's right arm at the wrist with a -grasp like a vice, and once more held his life at his disposal. - -"Take your life for the second and the _last_ time," said the major, -having suffered the wretched little gentleman for a brief pause to -fully taste the bitterness of death; "mind, my lord, for the _last_ -time;" and so saying, he contemptuously flung his lordship from him by -the arm which he grasped. - -"Now, my lord, before we begin for the _last_ time, listen to me," said -the major, with a sternness, which commanded all the attention of the -affrighted peer; "I desire that you should _fully_ understand what I -propose. I would not like to kill you under a mistake--there is nothing -like a clear, mutual understanding during a quarrel. Such an -understanding being once established, bloodshed, if it unfortunately -occurs, can scarcely, even in the most scrupulous bosom, excite the -mildest regret. I wish, my lord, to have nothing whatever to reproach -myself with in the catastrophe which you appear to have resolved shall -overtake you; and, therefore, I'll state the whole case for your dying -consolation in as few words as possible. Don't be in a hurry, my lord, -I'll not detain you more than five minutes in this miserable world. -Now, my lord, you have two strong, indeed I may call them in every -sense _fatal_, objections to my proposal. The first is, that if you -write the letter I propose, you must fight Sir Richard and young Henry -Ashwoode. Now, I pledge myself, my soul, and honour, as a Christian, a -soldier, and a gentleman, that I will stand between you and them--that -_I_ will protect you completely from all responsibility upon that -score--and that if anyone is to fight with either of them, it shall not -be you. Your second objection is, that having been fool enough to tell -the world that you were coming here for a wife, you are ashamed to go -away without one. Now, without meaning to be offensive, I never heard -anything more idiotic in the whole course of my life. But if it _must_ -be so, and that you cannot go away without a wife, why the d----l don't -you ask Emily Copland--a fine girl with some thousands of pounds, I -believe, and at all events dying for love of you, as I am sure you see -yourself? You can't care for one more than the other, and why the deuce -need you trouble your head about their gossip, if anyone wonders at the -change? And now, my lord, mark me, I have said all that is to be said -in the way of commentary or observation upon my proposal, and I must -add a word or two about the consequences of finally rejecting it. I -have spared your life twice, my lord, within these five minutes. If you -refuse the accommodation I have proposed, I will a third time give you -an opportunity of disembarrassing yourself of the whole affair by -running me through the body--in which, if you fail, so sure as you are -this moment alive and breathing before me, you shall, at the end of the -next five, be a corpse. So help me God!" - -Major O'Leary paused, leaving Lord Aspenly in a state of confusion and -horror, scarcely short of distraction. - -There was no mistaking the major's manner, and the old _beau garcon_ -already felt in imagination the cold steel busy with his intestines. - -"But, Major O'Leary," said he, despairingly, "will you engage--can you -pledge yourself that no mischief shall follow from my withdrawing as -you say? not that I would care to avoid a duel when occasion required; -but no one likes to unnecessarily risk himself. Will you indeed prevent -all unpleasantness?" - -"Did I pledge my soul and honour that I would?" inquired the major -sternly. - -"Well, I am satisfied. I do agree," replied his lordship. "But is there -any occasion for me to remove _to-night_?" - -"Every occasion," replied the major, coolly. "You must come directly -with me, and write the letter--and this evening, before supper, you -must leave Morley Court. And, above all things, just remember this, let -there be no trickery or treachery in this matter. So sure as I see the -smallest symptom of anything of the kind, I will bring about such -another piece of work as has not been for many a long day. Am I fully -understood?" - -"Perfectly--perfectly, my dear sir," replied the nobleman. "Clearly -understood. And believe me, Major, when I say that nothing but the fact -that I myself, for private reasons, am not unwilling to break the -matter off, could have induced me to co-operate with you in this -business. Believe me, sir, otherwise I should have fought until one or -other of us had fallen to rise no more." - -"To be sure you would, my lord," rejoined the major, with edifying -gravity. "And in the meantime your lordship will much oblige me by -walking up to the house. There's pen and paper in Sir Richard's study; -and between us we can compose something worthy of the occasion. Now, my -lord, if you please." - -Thus, side by side, walked the two elderly gentlemen, like the very -best friends, towards the old house. And shrewd indeed would have been -that observer who could have gathered from the manner of either -(whatever their flushed faces and somewhat ruffled exterior might have -told), as with formal courtesy they threaded the trim arbours together, -that but a few minutes before each had sought the other's life. - - - - -CHAPTER XXVI. - -THE HELL--GORDON CHANCEY--LUCK--FRENZY AND A RESOLUTION. - - -The night which followed this day found young Henry Ashwoode, his purse -replenished with bank-notes, that day advanced by Craven, to the amount -of one thousand pounds, once more engaged in the delirious prosecution -of his favourite pursuit--gaming. In the neighbourhood of the theatre, -in that narrow street now known as Smock Alley, there stood in those -days a kind of coffee-house, rather of the better sort. From the -public-room, in which actors, politicians, officers, and occasionally a -member of parliament, or madcap Irish peer, chatted, lounged, and -sipped their sack or coffee--the initiated, or, in short, any man with -a good coat on his back and a few pounds in his pocket, on exchanging a -brief whisper with a singularly sleek-looking gentleman, who sate in -the prospective of the background, might find his way through a small, -baize-covered door in the back of the chamber, and through a lobby or -two, and thence upstairs into a suite of rooms, decently hung with -gilded leather, and well lighted with a profusion of wax candles, where -hazard and cards were played for stakes unlimited, except by the -fortunes and the credit of those who gamed. The ceaseless clang of the -dice-box and rattle of the dice upon the table, and the clamorous -challenging and taking of the odds upon the throwing, accompanied by -the ferocious blasphemies of desperate losers, who, with clenched hands -and distracted gestures, poured, unheeded, their frantic railings and -imprecations, as they, in unpitied agony, withdrew from the fatal -table; and now and then the scarcely less hideous interruptions of -brutal quarrels, accusations, and recriminations among the excited and -half-drunken gamblers, were the sounds which greeted the ear of him who -ascended toward this unhallowed scene. The rooms were crowded--the -atmosphere hot and stifling, and the company in birth and pretensions, -if not in outward attire, to the full as mixed and various as the -degrees of fortune, which scattered riches and ruin promiscuously among -them. In the midst of all this riotous uproar, several persons sate and -played at cards as if (as, perhaps, was really the case), perfectly -unconscious of the ceaseless hubbub going on around them. Here you -might see in one place the hare-brained young squire, scarcely three -months launched upon the road to ruin, snoring in drunken slumber, in -his deep-cushioned chair, with his cravat untied, and waistcoat -loosened, and his last cup of mulled sack upset upon the table beside -him, and streaming upon his velvet breeches and silken hose--while his -lightly-won bank notes, stuffed into the loose coat pocket, and peeping -temptingly from the aperture, invited the fingers of the first -_chevalier d'industrie_ who wished to help himself. In another place -you might behold two sharpers fulfilling the conditions of their -partnership, by wheedling a half-tipsy simpleton into a quiet game of -ombre. And again, elsewhere you might descry some bully captain, whose -occupation having ended with the Irish wars, indemnified himself as -best he might by such contributions as he could manage to levy from the -young and reckless in such haunts as this, busily and energetically -engaged in brow-beating a timid greenhorn, who has the presumption to -fancy that he has won something from the captain, which the captain has -forgotten to pay. In another place you may see, unheeded and unheeding, -the wretch who has played and lost his last stake; with white, -unmeaning face and idiotic grin, glaring upon the floor, thought and -feeling palsied, something worse, and more appalling than a maniac. - -The whole character of the assembly bespoke the recklessness and the -selfishness of its ingredients. There was, too, among them a certain -coarse and revolting disregard and defiance of the etiquettes and -conventional decencies of social life. More than half the men were -either drunk or tipsy; some had thrown off their coats and others wore -their hats; altogether the company had more the appearance of a band of -reckless rioters in a public street, than of an assembly of persons -professing to be gentlemen, and congregated in a drawing-room. - -By the fireplace in the first and by far the largest and most crowded -of the three drawing-rooms, there sate a person whose appearance was -somewhat remarkable. He was an ill-made fellow, with long, lank, limber -legs and arms, and an habitual lazy stoop. His face was sallow; his -mouth, heavy and sensual, was continually moistened with the brandy and -water which stood beside him upon a small spider-table, placed there -for his especial use. His eyes were long-cut, and seldom more than half -open, and carrying in their sleepy glitter a singular expression of -treachery and brute cunning. He wore his own lank and grizzled hair, -instead of a peruke, and sate before the fire with a drowsy inattention -to all that was passing in the room; and, except for the occasional -twinkle of his eye as it glanced from the corner of his half-closed -lids, he might have been believed to have been actually asleep. His -attitude was lounging and listless, and all his movements so languid -and heavy, that they seemed to be rather those of a somnambulist than -of a waking man. His dress had little pretension, and less neatness; it -was a suit of threadbare, mulberry-coloured cloth, with steel buttons, -and evidently but little acquainted with the clothes-brush. His linen -was soiled and crumpled, his shoes ill-cleaned, his beard had enjoyed -at least two days' undisturbed growth; and the dingy hue of his face -and hands bespoke altogether the extremest negligence and slovenliness -of person. - -This slovenly and ungainly being, who sate apparently unconscious of -the existence of any other earthly thing than the fire on which he -gazed, and the grog which from time to time he lazily sipped, was -Gordon Chancey, Esquire, of Skycopper Court, Whitefriar Street, in the -city of Dublin, barrister-at-law--a gentleman who had never been known -to do any professional business, but who managed, nevertheless, to -live, and to possess, somehow or other, the command of very -considerable sums of money, which he most advantageously invested by -discounting, at exorbitant interest, short bills and promissory notes -in such places as that in which he now sate--one of his favourite -resorts, by the way. At intervals of from five to ten minutes he slowly -drew from the vast pocket of his clumsy coat a bulky pocket-book, and -sleepily conned over certain memoranda with which its leaves were -charged--then having looked into its well-lined receptacles, to satisfy -himself that no miracle of legerdemain had abstracted the treasure on -which his heart was set, he once more fastened the buckle of the -leathern budget, and deposited it again in his pocket. This procedure, -and his attentions to the spirits and water, which from time to time he -swallowed, succeeded one another with a monotonous regularity -altogether undisturbed by the uproarious scene which surrounded him. - -As the night wore apace, and fortune played her wildest pranks, many an -applicant--some successfully, and some in vain--sought Chancey's -succour. - -"Come, my fine fellow, tip me a cool hundred," exclaimed a -fashionably-dressed young man, flushed with the combined excitement of -wine and the dice, and tapping Chancey on the back impatiently with his -knuckles--"this moment--will you, and be d----" - -"Oh, dear me, dear me, Captain Markham," drawled the barrister in a -low, drowsy tone, as he turned sleepily toward the speaker, "have you -lost the other hundred so soon? Oh, dear!--oh, dear!" - -"Never you mind, old fox. Shell out, if you're going to do it," -rejoined the applicant. "What is it to you?" - -"Oh, dear me, dear me!" murmured Chancey, as he languidly drew the -pocket-book from his pocket. "When shall I make it payable? To-morrow?" - -"D----n to-morrow," replied the captain. "I'll sleep all to-morrow. -Won't a fortnight do, you harpy?" - -"Well, well--sign--sign it here," said the usurer, handing the paper, -with a pen, to the young gentleman, and indicating with his finger the -spot where the name was to be written. - -The _roue_ wrote his name without ever reading the paper; and Chancey -carefully deposited it in his book. - -"The money--the money--d----n you, will you never give it!" exclaimed -the young man, actually stamping with impatience, as if every moment's -absence from the hazard-table cost him a fortune. "Give--give--_give_ -them." - -He seized the notes, and without counting, stuffed them into his -coat-pocket, and plunged in an instant again among the gamblers who -crowded the table. - -"Mr. Chancey--Mr. Chancey," said a slight young man, whose whole -appearance betokened a far progress in the wasting of a mortal decline. -His face was pale as death itself, and glittering with the cold, clammy -dew of weakness and excitement. The eye was bright, wild, and glassy; -and the features of this attenuated face trembled and worked in the -spasms of agonized anxiety and despair--with timid voice, and with the -fearful earnestness of one pleading for his life--with knees half bent, -and head stretched forward, while his thin fingers were clutched and -knotted together in restless feverishness. He still repeated at -intervals in low, supplicating accents--"Mr. Chancey--Mr. Chancey--can -you spare a moment, sir--Mr. Chancey, good sir--Mr. Chancey." - -For many minutes the worthy barrister gazed on apathetically into the -fire, as if wholly unconscious that this piteous spectacle was by his -side, and all but begging his attention. - -"Mr. Chancey, good sir--Mr. Chancey, kind sir--only one moment--one -word--Mr. Chancey." - -This time the wretched young man advanced one of his trembling hands, -and laid it hesitatingly upon Chancey's knee--the seat of mercy, as the -ancients thought; but truly here it was otherwise. The hand was -repulsed with insolent rudeness; and the wretched suppliant stood -trembling in silence before the bill-discounter, who looked upon him -with a scowl of brute ferocity, which the timid advances he had made -could hardly have warranted. - -"Well," growled Chancey, keeping his baleful eyes fixed not very -encouragingly upon the poor young man. - -"I have been unfortunate, sir--I have lost my last shilling--that is, -the last I have about me at present." - -"Well," repeated he. - -"I might win it all back," continued the suppliant, becoming more -voluble as he proceeded. "I might recover it _all_--it has often -happened to me before. Oh, sir, it is possible--_certain_, if I had but -a few pounds to play on." - -"Ay, the old story," rejoined Chancey. - -"Yes, sir, it is indeed--indeed it is, Mr. Chancey," said the young -man, eagerly, catching at this improvement upon his first laconic -address as an indication of some tendency to relent, and making, at the -same time, a most woeful attempt to look pleasant--"it is, sir--the old -story, indeed; but this time it will come out true--indeed it will. -Will you do one little note for me--a _little_ one--twenty pounds?" - -"No, I won't," drawled Chancey, imitating with coarse buffoonery the -intonation of the request--"I won't do a _little_ one for you." - -"Well, for ten pounds--for _ten_ only." - -"No, nor for ten pence," rejoined Chancey, tranquilly. - -"You may keep five out of it for the discount--for friendship--only let -me have five--just _five_," urged the wasted gambler, with an agony of -supplication. - -"No, I won't; _just five_," replied the lawyer. - -"I'll make it payable to-morrow," urged the suppliant. - -"Maybe you'll be dead before that," drawled Chancey, with a sneer; "the -life don't look very tough in you." - -"Ah! Mr. Chancey, dear sir--good Mr. Chancey," said the young man, "you -often told me you'd do me a friendly turn yet. Do not you remember -it?--when I was able to lend you money. For God's sake, lend me five -pounds now, or anything; I'll give you half my winnings. You'll save me -from beggary--ah, sir, for old friendship." - -Mr. Gordon Chancey seemed wondrously tickled by this appeal; he gazed -sleepily at the fire while he raked the embers with the toe of his -shoe, stuffed his hands deep into his breeches pockets, and indulged in -a sort of lazy, comfortable laughter, which lasted for several minutes, -until at length it subsided, leaving him again apparently unconscious -of the presence of his petitioner. Emboldened by the condescension of -his quondam friend, the young man made a piteous effort to join in the -laughter--an attempt, however, which was speedily interrupted by the -hollow cough of consumption. After a pause of a minute or two, during -which Chancey seemed to have forgotten his existence, he once more -addressed that gentleman,-- - -"Well, sir--well, Mr. Chancey?" - -The barrister turned full upon him with an expression of face not to be -mistaken, and in a tone just as unequivocal, he growled,-- - -"I'm d----d if I give you as much as a leaden penny. Be off; there's no -_begging_ allowed here--away with you, you blackguard." - -Having thus delivered himself, Chancey relapsed into his ordinary -dreamy quiet. - -Every muscle in the pale, wasted face of the ruined, dying gamester -quivered with fruitless agony; he opened his mouth to speak, but could -not; he gasped and sobbed, and then, clutching his lank hands over his -eyes and forehead as though he would fain have crushed his head to -pieces, he uttered one low cry of anguish, more despairing and -appalling than the loudest shriek of horror, and passed from the room -unnoticed. - -"Jeffries, can you lend me fifty or a hundred pounds till to-morrow?" -said young Ashwoode, addressing a middle-aged fop who had just reeled -in from an adjoining room. - -"_Cuss_ me, Ashwoode, if the thing is a possibility," replied he, with -a hiccough; "I have just been fairly cleaned out by Snarley and two or -three others--not one guinea left--confound them all. I've this moment -had to beg a crown to pay my chair and link-boy home; but Chancey is -here; I saw him not an hour ago in his old corner." - -"So he is, egad--thank you," and Ashwoode was instantly by the monied -man's side. "Chancey, I want a hundred and fifty--quickly, man, are you -awake?" and so saying, he shook the lawyer roughly by the shoulder. - -"Oh, dear! oh, dear!" exclaimed he, in his usual low, sleepy voice, -"it's Mr. Ashwoode, it is indeed--dear me, dear me; and can I oblige -you, Mr. Ashwoode?" - -"Yes; don't I tell you I want a hundred and fifty--or stay, two -hundred," said Ashwoode, impatiently. "I'll pay you in a week or -less--say to-morrow if you please it." - -"Whatever sum you like, Mr. Ashwoode," rejoined he--"whatever sum or -whatever date you please; I declare to God I'm uncommonly glad to do -it. Oh, dear, but them dice _is_ unruly. Two hundred, you say, and a--a -_week_ we'll say, not to be pressing. Well, well, this money has luck -in it, maybe. That's a long lane that has no turn--fortune changes -sides when it's least expected. Your name here, Mr. Ashwoode." - -The name was signed, the notes taken, and Ashwoode once more at the -table; but alack-a-day! fortune was for once steady, and frowned with -consistent obdurateness upon Henry Ashwoode. Five minutes had hardly -passed, when the two hundred pounds had made themselves wings and -followed the larger sums which he had already lost. Again he had -recourse to Chancey: again he found that gentleman smooth, gracious, -and obliging as he could have wished. Still his luck was adverse: as -fast as he drew the notes from his pocket, they were caught and whirled -away in the eddy of ruin. Once more from the accommodating barrister he -drew a larger sum,--still with a like result. So large and frequent -were his drafts, that Chancey was obliged to go away and replenish his -exhausted treasury; and still again and again, with a terrible monotony -of disaster, young Ashwoode continued to lose. - -At length the grey, cold light of morning streamed drearily through the -chinks of the window-shutters into the hot chamber of destruction and -debauchery. The sounds of daily business began to make themselves heard -from the streets. The wax lights were flaring in the sockets. The floor -strewn with packs of cards, broken glasses, and plates, and fragments -of fowls and bread, and a thousand other disgusting indications of -recent riot and debauchery which need not to be mentioned. Soiled and -jaded, with bloodshot eyes and haggard faces, the gamblers slunk, one -by one, in spiritless exhaustion, from the scene of their distracting -orgies, to rest the brain and refresh the body as best they might. - -With a stunning and indistinct sense of disaster and ruin; a vague, -fevered, dreamy remembrance of overwhelming calamity: a stupefying, -haunting consciousness that all the clatter, and roaring, and stifling -heat, and jostling, and angry words, and smooth, civil speeches of the -night past, had been, somehow or other, to him fraught with fearful and -tremendous agony, and delirium, and ruin--Ashwoode stalked into the -street, and mechanically proceeded to the inn where his horse was -stabled. - -The ostler saw, by the haggard, vacant stare with which Ashwoode -returned his salutation, that something had gone wrong, and, as he held -the stirrup for him, he arrived at the conclusion that the young -gentleman must have gotten at least a dozen duels upon his hands, to be -settled, one and all, before breakfast. - -The young man dashed the spurs into the high-mettled horse, and -traversing the streets at a perilous speed, without well thinking or -knowing whitherward he was proceeding, he found himself at length among -the wild lanes and brushwood of the Royal Park, and was recalled to -himself by finding his horse rearing and floundering up to his sides in -a slough. Having extricated the animal, he dismounted, threw his hat -beside him, and, kneeling down, bathed his head and face again and -again in the water of a little brook, which ran in many a devious -winding through the tangled briars and thorns. The cold, refreshing -ablution, assisted by the sharp air of the morning, soon brought him to -his recollection. - -"The fiend himself must have been by my elbow last night," he muttered, -as he stood bare-headed, in wild disorder, by the brook's side. "I've -lost before, and lost heavily too, but such a run, such an infernal -string of ruinous losses. First, a thousand pounds gone--swallowed up -in little more than an hour; and then the devil knows how much -more--curse me, if I can remember _how_ much I borrowed. I am over head -and ears in Chancey's books. How shall I face my father? and how, in -the fiend's name, am I to meet my engagements? Craven will hand me no -more of the money. Was I mad or drunk, to go on against such an -accursed tide of bad luck?--what fury from hell possessed me? I wish I -had thrust my hand between the bars, and burnt it to the elbow, before -I took the dice-box last night. What's to be done?"--he paused-- -"Yes--I _must_ do it--fate, destiny, circumstances drive me to it. I -_will_ marry the woman; she can't live very long--it's not likely; and -even if she does, what's that to me?--the world is wide enough for us -both, and once married, we need not plague one another much with our -society. I must see Chancey about those d----d bills or notes: curse -me, if I even know when they are payable. My brain swims like a sea. -Lady Stukely, Lady Stukely, you are a happy woman: it's an ill wind -that blows nobody good--I am resolved--my course is taken. First then -for Morley Court, and next for the wealthy widow's. I don't half like -the thing, but, d----n it, what other chance have I? Then away with -hesitation, away with thought; fate has ordained it." - -So saying, the young man donned his hat, caught the bridle of his -well-trained steed, vaulted into the saddle, and was soon far on his -way to Morley Court, where strange and startling tidings awaited his -arrival. - - - - -CHAPTER XXVII. - -THE DEPARTURE OF THE PEER--THE BILLET AND THE SHATTERED MIRROR. - - -Never yet did day pass more disagreeably to mortal man than that whose -early events we have recorded did to Lord Aspenly. His vanity and -importance had suffered more mortification within the last few hours -than he had ever before encountered in all the eight-and-sixty winters -of his previous useful existence. And spite of the major's assurances -to the contrary, he could not help feeling certain very unpleasant -misgivings, as the evening approached, touching the consequences likely -to follow to himself from his meditated retreat. - -He resolved by the major's advice to leave Morley Court without a -formal leave-taking, or, in short, any explanatory interview whatever -with Sir Richard. And for the purpose of taking his departure without -obstruction or annoyance, he determined that the hour of his setting -forth should be that at which the baronet was wont to retire for a time -to his dressing-room, previously to appearing at supper. The note which -was to announce his departure was written and sealed, and deposited in -his waistcoat pocket. He felt that it supplied but a very meagre -explanation of so decided a step as he was constrained to take; -nevertheless it was the only explanation he had to offer. He well knew -that its perusal would be followed by an explosion, and he not unwisely -thought it best, under all the circumstances, to withdraw to a -reasonable distance before springing the mine. - -The evening closed ominously in storm and cloud; the wind was hourly -rising, and distant mutterings of thunder bespoke a night of tempest. -Lord Aspenly had issued his orders with secrecy, and they were -punctually obeyed. At the hour indicated, his own and his servant's -horses were at the door. Lord Aspenly was crossing the hall, cloaked, -booted, and spurred for the road, when he encountered Emily Copland. - -"Dear me, my lord, can it be possible--surely you are not going to -leave us to-night?" - -"Indeed, it is but too true, fair lady," rejoined his lordship, with a -dolorous shrug. "An unlucky _contretemps_ requires my attendance in -town; my precipitate flight," he continued, with an attempt at a -playful smile, "is accounted for in this note, which perhaps you will -kindly deliver to Sir Richard, when next you see him. I trust, Miss -Copland, that fortune will often grant me the privilege of meeting you. -Be assured it is one which I prize above all others. Adieu." - -His lordship gallantly kissed the hand which was extended to receive -the note, and then, with his best bow, withdrew. - -A few petulant questions, which bespoke his inward acerbity, he -addressed to his servant--glanced with a very sour aspect at the -lowering sky--clambered stiffly into the saddle, and then, desiring his -attendant to follow him, rode down the avenue at a speed which seemed -prompted by an instinctive dread of pursuit. - -As the wind howled and the thunder rolled and rumbled nearer and -nearer, Emily Copland could not but wonder more and more what urgent -and peremptory cause could have induced the little peer to adopt this -sudden resolution, and to carry it into effect upon such a night of -storm. Surely that motive must be a strange and urgent one which would -not brook the delay of a few hours, especially during the violence of -such weather as the luxurious little nobleman had perhaps never -voluntarily encountered in the whole course of his life. Curiosity -prompted her to deliver the note which she held in her hand at once; -she therefore ran lightly upstairs, and rapidly threading all the -intervening lobbies and rambling passages, she knocked at her uncle's -door. - -"Come in, come in," cried the peevish voice of Sir Richard Ashwoode. - -The girl entered the room. The Italian was at the toilet, arranging his -master's dressing-case, and the baronet himself in his night-gown and -slippers, and with a pamphlet in his hand, reclined listlessly upon a -sofa. - -"Who is that?--who _is_ it?" inquired he in the same tone, without -turning his eyes from the volume which he read. - -"Per dina!" exclaimed the Neapolitan--"Mees Emily--she is vary seldom -come here. You are wailcome, Mees Emily; weel you seet down?--there is -chair. Sir Richard, it is Mees Emily." - -"What does the young lady want?" inquired he, drily. - -"I have gotten a note for you, uncle," replied she. - -"Well, put it down?--put it there on the table, anywhere; I presume it -will keep till morning," replied he, without removing his eyes from the -pages. - -"It is from Lord Aspenly," urged the girl. - -"Eh! Lord Aspenly. How--give it to me," said the baronet, raising -himself quickly and tossing the pamphlet aside. He broke the seal and -read the note. Whatever its contents were, they produced upon the -baronet an extraordinary effect; he started from the sofa with clenched -hands and frantic gesture. - -"Who--where--stop him, after him--he shall answer me--he shall!" cried, -or rather shrieked, the baronet in the hoarse, choking scream of fury. -"After him all--my sword, my horse. By ----, he'll reckon with me this -night." - -Never did the human form more fearfully embody the passions of hell; he -stood before them absolutely transformed. The quivering face was pale -as ashes; the livid veins, like blue knotted cordage, protruded upon -his forehead; the eye glared and rolled with the light of madness, and -as he shook and raved there before them, no dream ever conjured up a -spectacle more appalling; he spit upon the letter--he tore it into -fragments, and with his gouty feet stamped it into the fire. - -There was no extravagance of frenzy which he did not enact. He tossed -his arms into the air, and dashed his clenched hands upon the table; he -stamped, he stormed, he howled; and as with thick and furious utterance -he volleyed forth his incoherent threats, mandates, and curses, the -foam hung upon his blackened lips. - -"I'll bring him to the dust--to the earth. My very menials shall spurn -him. Almighty, that he should dare--trickster--liar--that he should -dare to practise upon _me_ this outrageous slight. Ay, ay--ay, -ay--laugh, my lord--laugh on; but by the ---- ----, this shall bring -you to your knees, ay, and to your grave; and you--_you_," thundered -he, turning upon the awe-struck and terrified young lady, "you no doubt -had _your_ share in this--ay, you have--you _have_--yes, I know -you--you--you--hollow, lying ----, quit my house--out with you--turn -her out--drive her out--away with her." - -As the horrible figure advanced towards her, the girl by an effort -roused herself from the dreadful fascination, and turning from him, -fled swiftly downstairs, and fell fainting at the parlour door. - -Sir Richard still strode through his chamber with the same frantic -evidences of unabated fury; and the Italian--the only remaining -spectator of the hideous scene--sate calmly in a chair by the toilet, -with his legs crossed, and his countenance composed into a kind of -sanctimonious placidity, which, however, spite of all his efforts, -betrayed at the corners of the mouth, and in the twinkle of the eye, a -certain enjoyment of the spectacle, which was not altogether consistent -with the perfect affection which he professed for his master. - -"Ay, ay, my lord," continued the baronet, madly, "laugh on--laugh while -you may; but by the ---- ----, you shall gnash your teeth for this!" - -"What coning, old gentleman is mi Lord Aspenly--ah! vary, vary," said -the Italian, reflectively. - -"You _shall_, my lord," continued Sir Richard, furiously. "Your -disgrace shall be public--exemplary--the insult shall recoil upon, -yourself--your punishment shall be memorable-public--tremendous." - -"Mi Lord Aspenly and Sir Richard--both so coning," continued the -Italian--"yees--yees--set one thief to catch the other." - -The Neapolitan had, no doubt, bargained for the indulgence of his -pleasant humour, as usual, free of cost; but he was mistaken. With the -quickness of light, Sir Richard grasped a massive glass decanter, full -of water, and hurled it at the head of his valet. Luckily for that -gentleman's brains, it missed its object, and, alighting upon a huge -mirror, it dashed it to fragments with a stunning crash. In the -extremity of his fury, Sir Richard grasped a heavy metal inkstand, and -just as the valet escaped through the private door of his room, hurled -_it_, too, at his head. Two such escapes were quite enough for Signor -Parucci on one evening; and not wishing to tempt his luck further, he -ran nimbly down the stairs, leaped into his own room, and bolted and -double-locked the door; and thence, as the night wore on, he still -heard Sir Richard pacing up and down his chamber, and storming and -raving in dreadful rivalry with the thunder and hurricane without. - - - - -CHAPTER XXVIII. - -THE THUNDER-STORM--THE EBONY STICK--THE UNSEEN VISITANT--TERROR. - - -At length the uproar in Sir Richard's room died away. The hoarse voice -in furious soliloquy, and the rapid tread as he paced the floor, were -no longer audible. In their stead was heard alone the stormy wind -rushing and yelling through the old trees, and at intervals the deep -volleying thunder. In the midst of this hubbub the Italian rubbed his -hands, tripped lightly up and down his room, placed his ear at the -keyhole, and chuckled and rubbed his hands again in a paroxysm of -glee--now and again venting his gratification in brief ejaculations of -intense delight--the very incarnation of the spirit of mischief. - -The sounds in Sir Richard's room had ceased for two hours or more; and -the piping wind and the deep-mouthed thunder still roared and rattled. -The Neapolitan was too much excited to slumber. He continued, -therefore, to pace the floor of his chamber--sometimes gazing through -his window upon the black stormy sky and the blue lightning, which -leaped in blinding flashes across its darkness, revealing for a moment -the ivied walls, and the tossing trees, and the fields and hills, which -were as instantaneously again swallowed in the blackness of the -tempestuous night; and then turning from the casement, he would plant -himself by the door, and listen with eager curiosity for any sound from -Sir Richard's room. - -As we have said before, several hours had passed, and all had long been -silent in the baronet's apartment, when on a sudden Parucci thought he -heard the sharp and well-known knocking of his patron's ebony stick -upon the floor. He ran and listened at his own door. The sound was -repeated with unequivocal and vehement distinctness, and was -instantaneously followed by a prolonged and violent peal from his -master's hand-bell. The summons was so sustained and vehement, that the -Italian at length cautiously withdrew the bolt, unlocked the door, and -stole out upon the lobby. So far from abating, the sound grew louder -and louder. On tip-toe he scaled the stairs, until he reached to about -the midway; and he there paused, for he heard his master's voice -exerted in a tone of terrified entreaty,-- - -"Not now--not now--avaunt--not now. Oh, God!--help," cried the -well-known voice. - -These words were followed by a crash, as of some heavy body springing -from the bed--then a rush upon the floor--then another crash. - -The voice was hushed; but in its stead the wild storm made a long and -plaintive moan, and the listener's heart turned cold. - -"_Malora_--_Corpo di Pluto!_" muttered he between his teeth. "What is -it? Will he reeng again? _Santo gennaro!_--there is something wrong." - -He paused in fearful curiosity; but the summons was not repeated. Five -minutes passed; and yet no sound but the howling and pealing of the -storm. Parucci, with a beating heart, ascended the stairs and knocked -at the door of his patron's chamber. No answer was returned. - -"Sir Richard, Sir Richard," cried the man, "do you want me, Sir -Richard?" - -Still no answer. He pushed open the door and entered. A candle, wasted -to the very socket, stood upon a table beside the huge hearse-like bed, -which, for the convenience of the invalid, had been removed from his -bed-chamber to his dressing-room. The light was dim, and waved -uncertainly in the eddies which found their way through the chinks of -the window, so that the lights and shadows flitted ambiguously across -the objects in the room. At the end of the bed a table had been upset; -and lying near it upon the floor was some-thing--a heap of bed-clothes, -or--could it be?--yes, it _was_ Sir Richard Ashwoode. - -Parncci approached the prostrate figure: it was lying upon its back, -the countenance fixed and livid, the eyes staring and glazed, and the -jaw fallen--he was a corpse. The Italian stooped down and took the hand -of the dead man--it was already cold; he called him by his name and -shook him, but all in vain. There lay the cunning intriguer, the -fierce, fiery prodigal, the impetuous, unrelenting tyrant, the -unbelieving, reckless man of the world, a ghastly lump of clay. - - [Illustration: "Parucci approached the prostate figure." - _To face page 156._] - -With strange emotions the Neapolitan gazed upon the lifeless effigy -from which the evil tenant had been so suddenly and fearfully called to -its eternal and unseen abode. - -"Gone--dead--all over--all past," muttered he, slowly, while he pressed -his foot upon the dead body, as if to satisfy himself that life was -indeed extinct--"quite gone. _Canchero!_ it was ugly death--there was -something with him; what was he speaking with?" - -Parucci walked to the door leading to the great staircase, but found it -bolted as usual. - -"Pshaw! there was nothing," said he, looking fearfully round the room -as he approached the body again, and repeating the negative as if to -reassure himself--"no, no--nothing, nothing." - -He gazed again on the awful spectacle in silence for several minutes. - -"_Corbezzoli_, and so it _is_ over," at length he ejaculated--"the game -is ended. See, see, the breast is bare, and there the two marks of -Aldini's stiletto. Ah! _briccone_, _briccone_, what wild faylow were -you--_panzanera_, for a pretty ankle and a pair of black eyes, you -would dare the devil. _Rotto di collo_, his face is moving!--pshaw! it -is only the light that wavers. _Diamine!_ the face is terrible. What -made him speak? nothing was with him--pshaw! nothing could come to him -here--no, no, nothing." - -As he thus spoke, the wind swept vehemently upon the windows with a -sound as if some great thing had rushed, against them, and was pressing -for admission, and the gust blew out the candle; the blast died away in -a lengthened wail, and then again came rushing and howling up to the -windows, as if the very prince of the powers of the air himself were -thundering at the casement; then again the blue dazzling lightning -glared into the room and gave place to deeper darkness. - -"Pah! that lightning smells like brimstone. _Sangue d'un dua_, I hear -something in the room." - -Yielding to his terrors, Parucci stumbled to the door opening upon the -great lobby, and with cold and trembling fingers drawing the bolt, -sprang to the stairs and shouted for assistance in a tone which -speedily assembled half the household in the chamber of death. - - - - -CHAPTER XXIX. - -THE CRONES--THE CORPSE, AND THE SHARPER. - - -Haggard, exhausted, and in no very pleasant temper, Henry Ashwoode rode -up the avenue of Morley Court. - -"I shall have a blessed conference with my father," thought he, "when -he learns the fate of the thousand pounds I was to have brought him--a -pleasant interview, by ----. How shall I open it? He'll be no better -than a Bedlamite. By ----, a pretty hot kettle of fish this--but -through it I must flounder as best I may--curse it, what am I afraid -of?" - -Thus muttering, he leaped from the saddle, leaving the well-trained -steed to make his way to the stable, and entered at the half open door. -In the hall he encountered a servant, but was too much occupied by his -own busy reflections to observe the earnest, awe-struck countenance of -the old domestic. - -"Mr. Henry--Mr. Henry--stay, sir--stay--one moment," said the man, -following and endeavouring to detain him. - -Ashwoode, however, without heeding the interruption, hastened by him, -and mounted the stairs with long and rapid strides, resolved not -unnecessarily to defer the interview which he believed must come sooner -or later. He opened Sir Richard's door, and entered the chamber. He -looked round the room for the object of his search in vain; but to his -unmeasured astonishment, beheld instead three old shrivelled hags -seated by the hearth, who all rose upon his entrance, except one, who -was warming something in a saucepan upon the fire, and each and all -resumed respectively the visages of woe which best became the occasion. - -"Eh! How is this? What brings you here, nurse?" exclaimed the young -man, in a tone of startled curiosity. - -The old lady whom he addressed thought it advisable to weep, and -instead of returning any answer, covered her face with her apron, -turned away her head, and shook her palsied hand towards him with a -gesture which was meant to express the mute anguish of unutterable -sorrow. - -"What _is_ it?" said Ashwoode. "Are you all tongue-tied? Speak, some of -you." - -"Oh, musha! musha! the crathur," observed the second witch, with a most -lugubrious shake of the head, "but it is _he_ that's to be pitied. Oh, -wisha--wisha--wiristhroo!" - -"What the d----l ails you? Can't you speak out? Where's my father?" -repeated the young man, with impatient perplexity. - -"With the blessed saints in glory," replied the third hag, giving the -saucepan a slight whisk to prevent the contents from burning, "and if -ever there was an angel on earth, _he_ was one. Well, well, he has his -reward--that's one comfort, sure. The crown of glory, with the holy -apostles--it's _he's_ to be envied--up in heaven, though he wint mighty -suddint, surely." - -This was followed by a kind of semi-dolorous shake of the head, in -which the three old women joined. - -With a hurried step, young Ashwoode strode to the bedside, drew the -curtain, and gazed upon the sharp and fixed features of the corpse, as -it leered with unclosed eyes from among the bed-clothes. It would not -have been easy to analyze the feelings with which he looked upon this -spectacle. A kind of incredulous horror sate upon his compressed -features. He touched the hand, which rested stiffly upon the coverlet, -as if doubtful that the old man, whom he had so long feared and obeyed, -was actually _dead_. The cold, dull touch that met his was not to be -mistaken, and he gazed fixedly with that awful curiosity with which in -death the well-known features of a familiar face are looked on. There -lay the being whose fierce passions had been to him from his earliest -days a source of habitual fear--in childhood, even of terror--henceforth -to be no more to him than a thing which had never been. There lay the -scheming, busy head, but what availed all its calculations and its -cunning now! No more thought or power has it than the cushion on which -it stiffly rests. There lies the proud, worldly, unforgiving, violent -man, a senseless effigy of cold clay--a grim, impassive monument of -the recent presence of the unearthly visitant. - -"It's a beautiful corpse, if the eyes were only shut," observed one of -the crones, approaching; "a purty corpse as ever was stretched." - -"The hands is very handsome entirely," observed another of them, "and -so small, like a lady's." - -"It's himself was the good master," observed the old nurse, with a slow -shake of the head; "the likes of him did not thread in shoe leather. -Oh! but my heart's sore for you this day, Misther Harry." - -Thus speaking, with a good deal of screwing and puckering, she -succeeded in squeezing a tear from one eye, like the last drop from an -exhausted lemon, and suffering it to rest upon her cheek, that it might -not escape observation, she looked round with a most pity-moving visage -upon her companions, and an expression of face which said as plainly as -words, "What a faithful, attached, old creature I am, and how well I -deserve any little token of regard which Sir Richard's will may have -bequeathed me." - -"Ah! then, look at him," said the matron of the saucepan, gazing with -the most touching commiseration upon Henry Ashwoode, "see how he looks -at it. Oh, but it's he that adored him! Oh, the crathur, what will he -do this day? Look at him there--he's an orphan now--God help him." - -"Be off with yourselves, and leave me here," said Henry (now Sir Henry) -Ashwoode, turning sharply upon them. "Send me some one that can speak a -word of sense: call Parucci here, and get out of the room every one of -you--away!" - -With abundance of muttering and grumbling, and many an indignant toss -of the head, and many a dignified sniff, the old women hobbled from the -room; and Henry Ashwoode had hardly been left alone, when the small -private door communicating with Parucci's apartment, opened, and the -valet peeped in. - -"Come in--come in, Jacopo," said the young man; "come in, and close the -door. When did this happen?" - -The Neapolitan recounted briefly the events which we have already -recorded. - -"It was a fit--some sudden seizure," said the young man, glancing at -the features of the corpse. - -"Yes, vary like, vary like," said Parucci; "he used to complain -sometimes that his head was sweeming round, and pains and aches; but -there was something more--something more." - -"What do you mean?--don't speak riddles," said Ashwoode. - -"I mean this, then," replied the Italian; "something came to -him--something was in the room when he died." - -"How do you know that?" inquired the young man. - -"I heard him talking loudly with it," replied he--"talking and praying -it to go away from him." - -"Why did you not come into the room yourself?" asked Ashwoode. - -"So I did, _Diamine_, so I did," replied he. - -"Well, what saw you?" - -"Nothing bote Sir Richard, dead--quite dead; and the far door was -bolted inside, just so as he always used to do; and when the candle -went out, the thing was here again. I heard it myself, as sure as I am -leeving man--I heard it--close up with me--by the body." - -"Tut, tut, man; speak sense. Do you mean to say that anyone talked with -you?" said Ashwoode. - -"I mean this, that something was in the chamber with me beside the dead -man," replied the valet, doggedly. "I heard it with my own ears. -_Zucche!_ I moste 'av been deaf, if I did not hear it. It said 'hish,' -and then again, close up to my face, it said it--'hish, hish,' and -laughed below its breath. Pah! the place smelt of brimstone." - -"In plain terms, then, you believe that the devil was in the room; is -that it?" said Ashwoode, with a ghastly smile of contempt. - -"Oh! no," replied the servant, with a sneer as ghastly; "it was an -angel, of course--an angel from heaven." - -"No more of this folly, sirrah," said Ashwoode, sharply. "Your own -d----d cowardice fills your brain with these fancies. Here, give me the -keys, and show me where the papers are laid. I shall first examine the -cabinets here, and then in the library. Now open this one; and do you -hear, Parucci, not one word of this cock-and-bull story of yours to the -servants. Good God! my brain's unsettled. I can scarcely believe my -father dead--dead," and again he stood by the bedside, and looked upon -the still face of the corpse. - -"We must send for Craven at once," said Ashwoode, turning from the bed; -"I must confer with him; he knows better than anyone else how all my -father's affairs stand. There are some d----d bills out, I believe, but -we'll soon know." - -Having despatched an urgent note to Craven, the insinuating attorney, -to whom we have already introduced the reader, Sir Henry Ashwoode -proceeded roughly to examine the contents of boxes, escritoires, and -cabinets filled with dusty papers, and accompanied and directed in his -search by the Italian. - -"You never heard him mention a will, did you?" inquired the young man. - -The Neapolitan shook his head. - -"You did not know of his making one?" he resumed. - -"No, no, I cannot remember," said the Italian, reflectively; "but," he -added quickly, while a peculiar meaning lit up the piercing eyes which -he turned upon the interrogator--"but do you weesh to _find_ one? Maybe -I could help you to find one." - -"Pshaw! folly; what do you take me for?" retorted Ashwoode, slightly -colouring, in spite of his habitual insensibility, for Parucci was too -intimate with his principles for him to assume ignorance of his -meaning. "Why the devil should I wish to find a will, since I inherit -everything without it?" - -"Signor," said the little man, after an interval of silence, during -which he seemed absorbed in deep reflection, "I have moche to say about -what I shall do with myself, and some things to ask from you. I will -begin and end it here and now--it is best over at once. I have served -Sir Richard there for thirty-four years. I have served him well--vary -well. I have taught him great secrets. I have won great abundance of -good moneys for him; if he was not reech it is not my fault. I attend -him through his sickness; and 'av been his companion for the half of a -long life. What else I 'av done for him I need not count up, but most -of it you know well. Sir Richard is there--dead and gone--the service -is ended, and now I 'av resolved I will go back again to Italy--to -Naples--where I was born. You shall never hear of me any more if you -will do for me one little thing." - -"What is it?--speak out. You want to extort money--is it so?" said -Ashwoode, slowly and sternly. - -"I want," continued the man, with equal distinctness and -deliberateness, "I want one thousand pounds. I do not ask a penny more, -and I will not take a penny less; and if you give me that, I will never -trouble you more with word of mine--you will never hear or see honest -Jacopo Parucci any more." - -"Come, come, Jacopo, that were paying a little too dear, even for such -a luxury," replied Ashwoode. "A thousand pounds! Ha! ha! A modest -request, truly. I half suspect your brain is a little crazed." - -"Remember what I have done--all I have done for him." rejoined the -Italian, coolly. "And above all, remember what I have _not_ done for -him. I could have had him hanged up by the neck--hanged like a dog--but -I never did. Oh! no, never--though not a day went by that I might not -'av brought the house full of officers, and have him away to jail and -get him hanged. Remember all that, signor, and say is it in conscience -too moche?--_rotta di collo!_ It is not half--no, nor quarter so moche -as I ought to ask. No, nor as you ought to give, signor, without me to -ask at all." - -"Parucci, you are either mad or drunk, or take me to be so," said -Ashwoode, who could not feel quite comfortable in disputing the claims -of the Italian, nor secure in provoking his anger. "But at all events, -there is ample time to talk about these matters. We can settle it all -more at our ease in a week or so." - -"No, no, signor. I will have my answer now," replied the man, doggedly. -"Mr. Craven has money now--the money of Miss Mary's land that Sir -Richard got from her. But though the money is there _now_, in a week or -leetle more we will not see moche of it, and my pocket weel remain -aimpty--_corbezzoli!_ am I a fool?" - -"I tell you, Parucci, I will give you no promises now," exclaimed the -young man, vehemently. "Why, d---- it, the blood is hardly cold in the -old man's veins, and you begin to pester me for money. Can't you wait -till he's buried?" - -"Ay--yees--yees--wait till he's buried--and then wait till the -mourning's off--and then wait for something more," said the Neapolitan, -with a sneer, "and so wait on till the money's all spent. No, no, -signor--_corpo di Bacco!_ I will have it now. I will have my answer -now, before Mr. Craven comes--_giuro di Dio_, I _will_ have my answer." - -"Don't talk like a madman, Parucci," replied the young man, angrily. "I -have no money here. I will make no promises. And besides, your request -is perfectly ridiculous and unconscionable." - -"I ask for a thousand pounds," replied the valet. "I must have the -promise _now_, signor, and the money to-day. If you do not promise it -here and at once, I will not ask again, and maybe you weel be sorry. I -will take one thousand pounds. I want no more, and I accept no less. -Signor, your answer." - -There was a cool, menacing insolence in the manner of the fellow which -stung the pride of the young baronet to the quick. - -"Scoundrel," said he, "do you think I am to be bullied by your -audacious threats? Do you dream that I am weak enough to suffer a -wretch like you to practise his extortions upon me? By ----, you'll -find to your cost that you have no longer to deal with a master who is -in your power. What care I for your utmost? Do your worst, miscreant--I -defy you. I warn you only to beware of giving an undue license to your -foul, lying tongue--for if I find that you have been spreading your -libellous tales abroad, I'll have you pilloried and whipped." - -"Well, you 'av given me an answer," replied the Italian coolly. "I weel -ask no more; and now, signor, farewell--adieu. I think, perhaps, you -will hear of me again. I will not return here any more after I go out; -and so, for the last time," he continued, approaching the cold form -which lay upon the bed, "farewell to you, Sir Richard Ashwoode. While I -am alive I will never see your face again--perhaps, if holy friars tell -true, we may meet again. Till then--till then--farewell." - -With this strange speech the Neapolitan, having gazed for a brief -space, with a strange expression, in which was a dash of something very -nearly approaching to sorrow, upon the stern, moveless face before him, -and then with an effort, and one long-drawn sigh, having turned away, -deliberately withdrew from the room through the small door which led to -his own apartment. - -"The lazzarone will come to himself in a little," muttered Ashwoode; -"he will think twice before he leaves this place--he'll cool--he'll -cool." - -Thus soliloquizing, the young man locked up the presses and desks which -he had opened, bolted the door after the Italian, and hurried from the -room; for, somehow or other, he felt uneasy and fearful alone in the -chamber with the body. - - - - -CHAPTER XXX. - -SKY-COPPER COURT. - - -Upon the evening of the same day, the Italian having collected together -the few movables which he called his own, and left them ready for -removal in the chamber which he had for so long exclusively occupied, -might have been seen, emerging from the old manor-house, and with a -small parcel in his hand, wending his solitary, moon-lit way across the -broad wooded pasture-lands of Morley Court. Without turning to look -back upon the familiar scene, which he was now for ever leaving--for -all his faculties and feelings, such as they were, had busy occupation -in the measures of revenge which he was keenly pursuing, he crossed the -little stile which terminated the pathway he was following, and -descended upon the public road--shaking from his hat and cloak the -heavy drops, which in his progress the close underwood through which he -brushed had shed upon him. With a quickened pace, and with a stern, -almost a savage countenance, over which from time to time there flitted -a still more ominous smile, and muttering between his teeth many a -short and vehement apostrophe as he went, he held his way directly -toward the city of Dublin; and once within the streets, he was not long -in reaching the ancient, and by this time to the reader, familiar -mansion, over whose portal swung the glittering sign of the "Cock and -Anchor." - -"Now, then," thought Parucci, "let us see whether I have not one card -left, and that a trump. What, because I wear no sword myself, shall you -escape unpunished? Fool--miscreant, I will this night conjure up such -an avenger as will appal even you; I will send him with a thousand -atrocious wrongs upon his head, frantic into your presence--you had -better cope with an actual incarnate demon." - -Such were the exulting thoughts which lighted the features of Parucci -with a fitful smile of singular grimness as he entered the inn yard, -where meeting one of the waiters, he promptly inquired for O'Connor. To -his dismay, however, he learnt that that gentleman had quitted the -"Cock and Anchor" on the day before, and whither he had gone, none -could inform him. As he stood, pondering in bitter disappointment what -step was next to be taken, somebody tapped his shoulder smartly from -behind. He turned, and beheld the square form and swarthy features of -O'Hanlon, whose interview with O'Connor is recorded early in these -pages. After a few brief questions and answers, in which, by a -reference to the portly proprietor of the "Cock and Anchor," who -vouched for the accuracy of his representations, O'Hanlon satisfied the -vindictive foreigner that he might safely communicate the subject of -his intended communication to _him_, as to the sure friend of Mr. -O'Connor. Both personages, Parucci and O'Hanlon--or, as he was there -called, Dwyer--repaired to a private room, where they remained closeted -for fully half an hour. That interview had its consequences--consequences -of which sooner or later the reader shall fully hear, and which were -perhaps somewhat unlike those calculated upon by honest Jacopo. - -It is not necessary to detain the reader with a description of the -ceremonial which conducted the mortal remains of Sir Henry Ashwoode to -the grave. It is enough to say that if pomp and pageantry, lavished -upon the fleeting tenement of clay which it has deserted, can delight -the departed spirit, that of the deceased baronet was happy. The -funeral was an aristocratic procession, well worthy of the rank and -pretensions of the distinguished dead, and in numbers and _eclat_ such -as to satisfy even the exactions of Irish pride. - -Carriages and four were there in abundance, and others of lesser note -without number. Outriders, and footmen, and corpulent coachmen filled -the court and avenue of the manor, and crowded its hall, where -refreshments enough for a garrison were heaped together upon the -tables. The funeral feasting and revelry finished, the enormous mob of -coaches, horses, and lacqueys began to arrange itself, and assume -something like order. The great velvet-covered coffin was carried out -upon the shoulders of six footmen, staggering under the leaden load, -and was laid in the hearse. The high-born company, dressed in the -fantastic trappings of mourning, began to show themselves one by one, -or in groups, at the hall-door, and took their places in their -respective vehicles; and at length the enormous volume began to uncoil, -and gradually passing down the great avenue, and winding along the -road, to proceed toward the city, covering from the coffin to the last -carriage a space of more than a mile in length. - -The body was laid in the aisle of St. Audoen's Church, and a comely -monument, recording in eloquent periods the virtues of the deceased, -was reared by the piety of his son. The aisle, however, in which it -stood, is now a rootless ruin; and this, along with many a more curious -relic, has crumbled into dust from its time-worn wall: so that there -now remains, except in these idle pages, no record to tell posterity -that so important a personage as Sir Richard Ashwoode ever existed at -all. - -Of all who donned "the customary suit of solemn black" upon the death -of Sir Richard Ashwoode, but one human being felt a pang of sorrow. But -there _was_ one whose grief was real and poignant--one who mourned for -him as though he had been all that was fond and tender--who forgot and -forgave all his faults and failings, and remembered only that he had -been her father and she his child, and companion, and gentle, patient -nurse-tender through many an hour of pain and sickness. Mary wept for -his death bitterly for many a day and night; for all that he had ever -done or said to give her pain, her noble nature found entire -forgiveness, and every look, and smile, and word, and tone that had -ever borne the semblance of kindness, were all treasured in her memory, -and all called up again in affectionate and sorrowful review. Seldom -indeed had the hard nature of Sir Richard evinced even such transient -indications of tenderness, and when they did appear they were still -more rarely genuine. But Mary felt that an object of her kindly care -and companionship was gone--a familiar face for ever hidden--one of the -only two who were near to her in the ties of blood, departed to return -no more, and with all the deep, strong yearnings of kindred, she wept -and mourned after her father. - -Emily Copland had left Morley Court and was now residing with her gay -relative, Lady Stukely, so that poor Mary was left almost entirely -alone, and her brother, Sir Henry, was so immersed in business and -papers that she scarcely saw him even for a moment except while he -swallowed his hasty meals; and sooth to say, his thoughts were not much -oftener with her than his person. - -Though, as the reader is no doubt fully aware, Sir Henry's grief for -the loss of his parent was by no means of that violent kind which -refuses to be comforted, yet he was too chary of the world's opinion, -as well as too punctilious an observer of etiquette, to make the -cheerfulness of his resignation under this dispensation startlingly -apparent by any overt act of levity or indifference. Sir Henry, -however, must see Gordon Chancey; he must ascertain how much he owes -him, and when it is all payable--facts of which he has, if any, the -very dimmest and vaguest possible recollection. Therefore, upon the -very day on which the funeral had taken place, as soon as the evening -had closed, and darkness succeeded the twilight, the young baronet -ordered his trusty servant to bring the horses to the door, and then -muffling himself in his cloak, and drawing it about his face, so that -even in the reflection of an accidental link he might not by -possibility be recognized, he threw himself into the saddle, and -telling his servant to follow him, rode rapidly through the dense -obscurity towards the town. - -When he had reached Whitefriar Street, he checked his pace to a walk, -and calling his attendant to his side, directed him to await his return -there; then dismounting, he threw him the bridle, and proceeded upon -his way. Guided by the hazy starlight and by an occasional gleam from a -shop-window or tavern-door, as well as by the dusky glimmer of the -wretched street lamps, the young man directed his course for some way -along the open street, and then turning to the right into a dark -archway which opened from it, he found himself in a small, square -court, surrounded by tall, dingy, half-ruinous houses which loomed -darkly around, deepening the shadows of the night into impenetrable -gloom. From some of these dilapidated tenements issued smothered sounds -of quarrelling, indistinctly mingled with the crying of children and -the shrill accents of angry females; from others the sounds of -discordant singing and riotous carousal; while, as far as the eye could -discern, few places could have been conceived with an aspect more -dreary, forbidding, and cut-throat, and, in all respects, more -depressing and suspicious. - -"This is unquestionably the place," exclaimed Ashwoode, as he stepped -cautiously over the broken pavement; "there is scarcely another like it -in this town or any other; but beshrew me if I remember which is the -house." - -He entered one of them, the hall-door of which stood half open, and -through the chinks of whose parlour-door were issuing faint streams of -light and gruff sounds of talking. At one of these doors he knocked -sharply with his whip-handle, and instantly the voices were hushed. -After a silence of a minute or two, the parties inside resumed their -conversation, and Ashwoode more impatiently repeated his summons. - -"There _is_ someone knocking--I tould you there was," exclaimed a harsh -voice from within. "Open the doore, Corny, and take a squint." - -The door opened cautiously; a great head, covered with shaggy -elf-locks, was thrust through the aperture, and a singularly -ill-looking face, as well as the imperfect light would allow Ashwoode -to judge, was advanced towards his. The fellow just opened the door far -enough to suffer the ray of the candle to fall upon the countenance of -his visitant, and staring suspiciously into his face for some time, -while he held the lock of the door in his hand, he asked,-- - -"Well, neighbour, did you rap at this doore?" - -"Yes, I want to be directed to Mr. Chancey's rooms." replied Ashwoode. - -"Misthur who?" repeated the man. - -"Mr. Chancey--_Chancey_: he lives in this court, and, unless I am -mistaken, in this house, or the next to it," rejoined Ashwoode. - -"_Chancey_: I don't know him," answered the man. "Do _you_ know where -Mr. Chancey lives, Garvey?" - -"Not I, nor don't care," rejoined the person addressed, with a hoarse -growl, and without taking the trouble to turn from the fire, over which -he was cowering, with his back toward the door. "Slap the _doore_ to, -can't you? and don't keep gostherin' there all night." - -"No, he won't slap the doore," exclaimed the shrill voice of a female. -"I'll see the gentleman myself. Well, sir," she cried, presenting a -tall, raw-boned figure, arrayed in tawdry rags, at the door, and -shoving the man with the unkempt locks aside, she eyed Ashwoode with a -leer and a grin that were anything but inviting--"well, sir, is there -anything I can do for you. The chaps here is not used to quality, an' -Pather has a mighty ignorant manner; but they are placible boys, an' -manes no offence. Who is it you're lookin' for, sir?" - -"Mr. Gordon Chancey: he lives in one of these houses. Can you direct me -to him?" - -"No, we can't," said the fellow from the fire, in a savage tone. "I -tould you before. Won't you _take_ your answer--won't you? Slap that -_doore_, Corny, or I'll get up to him myself." - -"Hould your tongue, you gaol bird, won't you?" rejoined the female, in -accents of shrill displeasure. "_Chancey!_ is not he the counsellor -gentleman; he has a yallow face an' a down look, and never has his -hands out of his breeches' pockets?" - -"The very man," replied Ashwoode. - -"Well, sir, _he does_ live in this court: he has the parlour next -doore. The street _doore_ stands open--it's a lodging-house. One doore -further on; you can't miss him." - -"Thank you, thank you," said Ashwoode. "Good-night." And as the door -was closed upon him, he heard the voices of those within raised in hot -debate. - -He stumbled and groped his way into the hall of the house which the -gracious nymph, to whom he had just bidden farewell, indicated, and -knocked stoutly at the parlour-door. It was opened by a sluttish girl, -with bare feet, and a black eye, which had reached the green and yellow -stage of recovery. She had probably been interrupted in the midst of a -spirited altercation with the barrister, for ill humour and excitement -were unequivocally glowing in her face. - -Ashwoode walked in, and found matters as we shall describe them in the -next chapter. - - - - -CHAPTER XXXI. - -THE USURER AND THE OAKEN BOX. - - -The room which Sir Henry Ashwoode entered was one of squalid disorder. -It was a large apartment, originally handsomely wainscoted, but damp -and vermin had made woeful havoc in the broad panels, and the ceiling -was covered with green and black blotches of mildew. No carpet covered -the bare boards, which were strewn with fragments of papers, rags, -splinters of an old chest, which had been partially broken up to light -the fire, and occasionally a potato-skin, a bone, or an old shoe. The -furniture was scant, and no one piece matched the other. Little and bad -as it was, its distribution about the room was more comfortless and -wretched still. All was dreary disorder, dust, and dirt, and damp, and -mildew, and rat-holes. - -By a large grate, scarcely half filled with a pile of ashes and a few -fragments of smouldering turf, sat Gordon Chancey, the master of this -notable establishment; his arm rested upon a dirty deal table, and his -fingers played listlessly with a dull and battered pewter goblet, which -he had just replenished from a two-quart measure of strong beer which -stood upon the table, and whose contents had dabbled that piece of -furniture with sundry mimic lakes and rivers. Unrestrained by the -ungenerous confinement of a fender, the cinders strayed over the -cracked hearthstone, and even wandered to the boards beyond it. Mr. -Gordon Chancey was himself, too, rather in deshabille. He had thrown -off his shoes, and was in his stockings, which were unfortunately -rather imperfect at the extremities. His waistcoat was unbuttoned, and -his cravat lay upon the table, swimming in a sea of beer. As Ashwoode -entered, with ill-suppressed disgust, this loathly den, the object of -his visit languidly turned his head and his sleepy eyes over his -shoulder, in the direction of the door, and without making the smallest -effort to rise, contented himself with extending his hand along the -sloppy table, palm upwards, for Ashwoode to shake, at the same time -exclaiming, with a drawl of gentle placidity,-- - -"Oh, dear--oh, dear me! Mr. Ashwoode, I declare to God I am very glad -to see you. Won't you sit down and have some beer? Eliza, bring a cup -for my friend, Mr. Ashwoode. Will you take a pipe too? I have some -elegant tobacco. Bring _my_ pipe to Mr. Ashwoode, and the little -canister that M'Quirk left here last night." - -"I am much obliged to you," said Ashwoode, with difficulty swallowing -his anger, and speaking with marked _hauteur_, "my visit, though an -unseasonable one, is entirely one of business. I shall not give you the -trouble of providing any refreshment for me; in a word, I have neither -time nor appetite for it. I want to learn exactly how you and I stand: -five minutes will show me the state of the account." - -"Oh, dear--oh, dear! and won't you take any beer, then? it's elegant -beer, from Mr. M'Gin's there, round the corner." - -Ashwoode bit his lips, and remained silent. - -"Eliza, bring a chair for my friend, Sir Henry Ashwoode," continued -Chancey; "he must be very tired--indeed he must, after his long walk; -and here, Eliza, take the key and open the press, and do you see, bring -me the little oak box on the second shelf. She's a very good little -girl, Mr. Ashwoode, I assure you. Eliza is a very sensible, good little -girl. Oh, dear!--oh, dear! but your father's death was very sudden; but -old chaps always goes off that way, on short notice. Oh, dear me!--I -declare to ----, only I had a pain in my--(here he mentioned his lower -stomach somewhat abruptly)--I'd have gone to the funeral this morning. -There was a great lot of coaches, wasn't there?" - -"Pray, Mr. Chancey," said Ashwoode, preserving his temper with an -effort, "let us proceed at once to business. I am pressed for time, and -I shall be glad, with as little delay as possible, to ascertain--what I -suppose there can be no difficulty in learning--the exact state of our -account." - -"Well, I'm very sorry, so I am, Mr. Ashwoode, that you are in such a -hurry--I declare to ---- I am," observed Chancey, supplying big goblet -afresh from the larger measure. "Eliza, have you the box? Well, bring -it here, and put it down on the table, like an elegant little girl." - -The girl shoved a small oaken chest over to Chancey's elbow; and he -forthwith proceeded to unlock it, and to draw forth the identical red -leather pocket-book which had received in its pages the records of -Ashwoode's disasters upon the evening of their last meeting. - -"Here I have them. Captain Markham--no, that is not it," said Chancey, -sleepily turning over the leaves; "but this is it, Mr. Ashwoode--ay, -here; first, two hundred pounds, promissory note--payable one week -after date. Mr. Ashwoode, again, one hundred and fifty--promissory -note--one week. Lord Kilblatters--no--ay, here again--Mr. Ashwoode, two -hundred--promissory note--one week. Mr. Ashwoode, two hundred and -fifty--promissory note--one week. Mr. Ashwoode, one hundred; Mr. -Ashwoode, fifty. Oh, dear me! dear me! Mr. Ashwoode, three hundred." -And so on, till it appeared that Sir Henry Ashwoode stood indebted to -Gordon Chancey, Esq., in the sum of six thousand four hundred and fifty -pounds, for which he had passed promissory notes which would all become -due in two days' time. - -"I suppose," said Ashwoode, "these notes have hardly been negotiated. -Eh?" - -"Oh, dear me! No--oh, no, Mr. Ashwoode," replied Chancey. "They have -not gone out of my desk. I would not put them into the hands of a -stranger for any trifling advantage to myself. Oh, dear me! not at -all." - -"Well, then, I suppose you can renew them for a fortnight or so, or -hold them over--eh?" asked Ashwoode. - -"I'm sure I can," rejoined Chancey. "The bills belong to the old -cripple that lent the money; and _he_ does whatever I bid him. He -trusts it all to me. He gives me the trouble, and takes the profit -himself. Oh! he _does_ confide in me. I have only to say the word, and -it's done. They shall be renewed or held over as often as you wish. -Indeed, I can answer for it. Dear me, it would be very hard if I could -not." - -"Well, then, Mr. Chancey," replied Ashwoode, "I may require it, or I -may not. Craven has the promise of a large sum of money, within two or -three days--part of the loan he has already gotten. Will you favour me -with a call on to-morrow afternoon at Morley Court. I will then have -heard definitely from Craven, and can tell you whether I require time -or not." - -"Very good, sir--very fair, indeed, Mr. Ashwoode. Nothing fairer," -rejoined the lawyer. "But don't give yourself any uneasiness. Oh, dear, -on no account; for I declare to ---- I would hold them over as long as -you like. Oh, dear me--indeed but I would. Well, then, I'll call out at -about four o'clock." - -"Very good, Mr. Chancey," replied Ashwoode. "I shall expect you. -Meanwhile, good-night." So they separated. - -The young baronet reached his ancestral dwelling without adventure of -any kind, and Mr. Gordon Chancey poured out the last drops of beer from -the inverted can into his pewter cup, and draining it calmly, anon -buttoned his waistcoat, shook the wet from his cravat, and tied it on, -thrust his feet into his shoes, and flinging his cocked hat carelessly -upon his head, walked forth in deep thought into the street, whistling -a concerto of his own invention. - - - - -CHAPTER XXXII. - -THE DIABOLIC WHISPER. - - -Gordon Chancey sauntered in his usual lazy, lounging way, with his -hands in his pockets, down the street. After a listless walk of -half-an-hour he found himself at the door of a handsome house, in the -immediate neighbourhood of the Castle. He knocked, and was admitted by -a servant in full livery. - -"Is he in the same room?" inquired Chancey. - -"Yes, sir," replied the man; and without further parley, the learned -counsel proceeded upstairs, and knocked at the drawing-room door, -which, without waiting for any answer, he forthwith opened. - -Nicholas Blarden--with two ugly black plaisters across his face, his -arm in a sling, and his countenance bearing in abundance the livid -marks of his late rencounter--stood with his back to the fire-place; a -table, blazing with wax-lights, and stored with glittering wine-flasks -and other matters, was placed at a little distance before him. As the -man of law entered the room, the countenance of the invalid relaxed -into an ugly grin of welcome. - -"Well, Gordy, boy, how goes the game? Out with your news, old -rat-catcher," said Blarden, in high good humour. - -"Dear me, dear me! but the night is mighty chill, Mr. Blarden," -observed Chancey, filling a glass of wine to the brim, and sipping it -uninvited. "News," he continued, letting himself drop into a -chair--"news; well, there's not much stirring worth telling you." - -"Come, what _is_ it? You're not come here for nothing, old fox," -rejoined Blarden, "I know by the ---- twinkle in the corner of your -eye." - -"Well, _he_ has been with me, just now," drawled Chancey. - -"Ashwoode?" - -"Yes." - -"Well! what does he want--what does he want, eh?" asked Blarden, with -intense excitement. - -"He says he'll want time for the notes," replied Chancey. - -"God be thanked!" ejaculated Blarden, and followed this ejaculation -with a ferocious burst of laughter. "We'll have him, Chancey, boy, if -only we know how to play him--by ----, we'll have him, as sure as -there's heat in hell." - -"Well, maybe we will," rejoined Chancey. - -"Does he say he can't pay them on the day?" asked Blarden, exultingly. - -"No; he says _maybe_ he can't," replied the jackal. - -"That's all one," cried Blarden. "What do you think? Do you think he -can?" - -"I think maybe he can, if we _squeeze_ him," replied Chancey. - -"Then _don't_ squeeze him--he must not get out of our books on any -terms--we'll lose him if he does," said Nicholas. - -"We'll not renew the notes, but hold them over," said Chancey. "He must -not feel them till he _can't_ pay them. We'll make them sit light on -him till then--give him plenty of line for a while--rope enough and a -little patience--and the devil himself can't keep him out of the -noose." - -"You're right--you _are_, Gordy, boy," rejoined Blarden. "Let him get -through the ready money first--eh?--and then into the stone jug with -him--we'll just choose our own time for striking." - -"I tell you what it is, if you are just said and led by me, you'll have -a _quare_ hold on him before three months are past and gone," said -Chancey, lazily--"mind I tell you, you will." - -"Well, Gordy, boy, fill again--fill again--here's success to you." - -Chancey filled, and quaffed his bumper, with, a matter-of-fact, -business-like air. - -"And do you mind me, boy," continued Blarden, "spare _nothing_ in this -business--bring Ashwoode entirely under my knuckle--and, by ----, I'll -make it a great job for you." - -"Indeed--indeed but I will, Mr. Blarden, if I can," rejoined Chancey; -"and I _think_ I can--I think I know a way, so I do, to get a _halter_ -round his neck--do you mind?--and leave the rope's end in your hand, to -hang him or not, as you like." - -"To _hang_ him!" echoed Blarden, like one who hears something too good -to be true. - -"Yes, to hang him by the neck till he's dead--dead--dead," repeated -Chancey, imperturbably. - -"How the blazes will you do it?" demanded the wretch, anxiously. "Pish, -it's all prate and vapour." - -Gordon Chancey stole a suspicious glance round the room from the corner -of his eye, and then suffering his gaze to rest sleepily upon the fire -once more, he stretched out one of his lank arms, and after a little -uncertain groping, succeeding in grasping the collar of his companion's -coat, and drawing his head down toward him. Blarden knew Mr. Chancey's -way, and without a word, lowered his ear to that gentleman's mouth, who -forthwith whispered something into it which produced a marked effect -upon Mr. Blarden. - -"If you do _that_," replied he with ferocious exultation, "by ----, -I'll make your fortune for you at a slap." - -And so saving, he struck his hand with heavy emphasis upon the -barrister's shoulder, like a man who clenches a bargain. - -"Well, Mr. Blarden," replied Chancey, in the same drowsy tone, "as I -said before, I declare it's my opinion I can, so it is--I think I can." - -"And so do _I_ think you can--by ----, I'm _sure_ of it," exclaimed -Blarden triumphantly; "but take some more--more wine, won't you? take -some more, and stay a bit, can't you?" - -Chancey had made his way to the door with his usual drowsy gait; and, -passing out without deigning any answer or word of farewell, stumbled -lazily downstairs. There was nothing odd, however, in this -leave-taking; it was Chancey's way. - -"We'll do it, and easily too," muttered Blarden with a grin of -exultation. "I never knew him fail--that fellow is worth a mine. Ho! -ho! Sir Henry, beware--beware. Egad, you had better keep a bright -look-out. It's rather late for green goslings to look to their necks, -when the fox claps his nose in the poultry-yard." - - - - -CHAPTER XXXIII. - -SHOWING HOW SIR HENRY ASHWOODE PLAYED AND PLOTTED--AND OF THE SUDDEN -SUMMONS OF GORDON CHANCEY. - - -Henry Ashwoode was but too anxious to avail himself of the indulgence -offered by Gordon Chancey. With the immediate urgency of distress, any -thoughts of prudence or retrenchment which may have crossed his mind -vanished, and along with the command of new resources came new wants -and still more extravagant prodigality. His passion for gaming was now -indulged without restraint, and almost without the interruption of a -day. For a time his fortune rallied, and sums, whose amount would -startle credulity, flowed into his hands, only to be lost and -squandered again in dissipation and extravagance, which grew but the -wilder and more reckless, in proportion as the sources which supplied -them were temporarily increased. At length, after some coquetting, the -giddy goddess again deserted him. Night after night brought new and -heavier disasters; and with this reverse of fortune came its invariable -accompaniment--a wilder and more daring recklessness, and a more -unmeasured prodigality in hazarding larger and larger sums; as if the -victims of ill luck sought, by this frantic defiance, to bully and -browbeat their capricious persecutor into subjection. There was -scarcely an available security of any kind which he had not already -turned into money, and now he began to feel, in downright earnest, the -iron gripe of ruin closing upon him. - -He was changed--in spirit and in aspect changed. The unwearied fire of -a secret fever preyed upon his heart and brain; an untold horror robbed -him of his rest, and haunted him night and day. - -"Brother," said Mary Ashwoode, throwing one hand fondly round his neck, -and with the other pressing his, as he sate moodily, with compressed -lips and haggard face, and eyes fixed upon the floor, in the old -parlour of Morley Court--"dear brother, you are greatly changed; you -are ill; some great trouble weighs upon your mind. Why will you keep -all your cares and griefs from me? I would try to comfort you, whatever -your sorrows may be. Then let me know it all, dear brother; why should -your griefs be hidden from me? Are there not now but the two of us in -the wide world to care for each other?" and as she said this her eyes -filled with tears. - -"You would know what grieves me?" said Ashwoode, after a short silence, -and gazing fixedly in her face, with stern, dilated eyes, and pale -features. He remained again silent for a time, and then uttered the -emphatic word--"_Ruin._" - -"How, dear brother, what has befallen you?" asked the poor girl, -pressing her brother's hand more kindly. - -"I say, we are ruined--both of us. I've lost everything. We are little -better than beggars," replied he. "There's nothing I can call my own," -he resumed, abruptly, after a pause, "but that old place, Incharden. -It's worth next to nothing--bog, rocks, brushwood, old stables, and -all--absolutely nothing. We are ruined--beggared--that's all." - -"Oh! brother, I am glad we have still that dear old place. Oh, let us -go down and live there together, among the quiet glens, and the old -green woods; for amongst its pleasant shades I have known happier times -than shall ever come again for me. I would like to ramble there again -in the pleasant summer time, and hear the birds sing, and the sound of -the rustling leaves, and the clear winding brook, as I used to hear -them long ago. _There_ I could think over many things, that it breaks -my heart to think of here; and you and I, brother, would be always -together, and we would soon be as happy as either of us can be in this -sorrowful world." - -She threw her arms around her brother's neck, and while the tears -flowed fast and silently, she kissed his pale and wasted cheeks again -and again. - -"In the meantime," said Ashwoode, starting up abruptly, and looking at his -watch, "I must go into town, and see some of these harpies--usurers--that -have gotten their fangs in me. It is as well to keep out of jail as long -as one can," and, with a very joyless laugh, he strode from the room. - -As he rode into town, his thoughts again and again recurred to his old -scheme respecting Lady Stukely. - -"It is after all my only chance," said he. "I have made my mind up -fifty times to it, but somehow or other, d----n me, if I could ever -bring myself to _do_ it. That woman will live for five-and-twenty years -to come, and she would as easily part with the control of her property -as with her life. While she lives I must be her dependent--her slave: -there is no use in mincing the matter, I shall not have the command of -a shilling, but as she pleases; but patience--patience, Henry Ashwoode, -sooner or later death _will_ come, and then begins your jubilee." - -As these thoughts hurried through his brain, he checked his horse at -Lady Betty Stukely's door. - -As he traversed the capacious hall, and ascended the handsome -staircase--"Well," thought he, "even _with_ her ladyship, this were -better than the jail." - -In the drawing-room he found Lady Stukely, Emily Copland, and Lord -Aspenly. The two latter evidently deep in a very desperate flirtation, -and her ladyship meanwhile very considerately employed in trying a -piece of music on the spinet. - -The entrance of Sir Henry produced a very manifest sensation among the -little party. Lady Stukely looked charmingly conscious and fluttered. -Emily Copland smiled a gracious welcome, for though she and her -handsome cousin perfectly well understood each other, and both well -knew that marriage was out of the question, they had each, what is -called, a fancy for the other; and Emily, with the unreasonable -jealousy of a woman, felt a kind of soreness, secretly and almost -unacknowledged to herself, at Sir Henry's marked devotion to Lady -Stukely, though, at the same time, no feeling of her own heart, beyond -the lightest and the merest vanity, had ever been engaged in favour of -Henry Ashwoode. Of the whole party, Lord Aspenly alone was a good deal -disconcerted, and no wonder, for he had not the smallest notion upon -what kind of terms he and Henry Ashwoode were to meet;--whether that -young gentleman would shake hands with him as usual, or proceed to -throttle him on the spot. Ashwoode was, however, too completely a man -of the world to make any unnecessary fuss about the awkward affair of -Morley Court; he therefore met the little nobleman with cold and easy -politeness; and, turning from him, was soon engaged in an animated and -somewhat tender colloquy with the love-stricken widow, whose last words -to him, as at length he arose to take his leave, were,-- - -"Remember to-morrow evening, Sir Henry, we shall look for you early; -and you have promised not to disappoint your cousin Emily--has not he, -Emily? I shall positively be affronted with you for a week at least if -you are late. I am very absolute, and never forgive an act of -rebellion. I'm quite a little sovereign here, and very despotic; so you -had better not venture to be naughty." - -Here she raised her finger, and shook it in playful menace at her -admirer. - -Lady Stukely had, however, little reason to doubt his punctuality. If -she had but known the true state of the case she would have been aware -that in literal matter-of-fact she had become as necessary to Sir Henry -Ashwoode as his daily bread. - -Accordingly, next evening Sir Henry Ashwoode was one of the gayest of -the guests in Lady Stukely's drawing-rooms. His resolution was taken; -and he now looked round upon the splendid rooms and all their rich -furniture as already his own. Some chatted, some played cards, some -danced the courtly minuet, and some hovered about from group to group, -without any determinate occupation, and sharing by turns in the -frivolities of all. Ashwoode was, of course, devoted exclusively to his -fair hostess. She was all smiles, and sighs, and bashful coyness; he -all tenderness and fire. In short, he felt that all he wanted at that -moment was the opportunity of asking, to ensure his instantaneous -acceptance. While thus agreeably employed, the young baronet was -interrupted by a footman, who, with a solemn bow, presented a silver -salver, on which was placed an exceedingly dirty and crumpled little -note. Ashwoode instantly recognized the hand in which the address was -written, and snatching the filthy billet from its conspicuous position, -he thrust it into his waistcoat pocket. - -"A messenger, sir, waits for an answer," murmured the servant. - -"Where is he?" - -"He waits in the hall, sir." - -"Then I shall see him in a moment--tell him so," said Ashwoode; and -turning to Lady Stukely, he spoke a few sweet words of gallantry, and -with a forced smile, and casting a longing, lingering look behind, he -glided from the room. - -"So, what can this mean?" muttered he, as he placed himself immediately -under a cluster of lights in the lobby, and hastily drew forth the -crumpled note. He read as follows:-- - - "MY DEAR SIR HENRY,--There is bad news--as bad as can be. Wherever - you are, and whatever you are doing, come on receipt of these, on - the moment, to me. If you don't, you'll be done for to-morrow; so - come at once. Bobby M'Quirk will hand you these, and if you follow - him, will bring you where I am now. I am desirous to serve you, and - if the art of man can do it, to keep you out of this pickle. - - "Your obedient, humble servant, - - "GORDON CHANCEY." - - "N.B.--It is about these infernal notes, so come quickly." - -Through this production did Ashwoode glance with no very enviable -feelings; and tearing the note into the very smallest possible pieces, -he ran downstairs to the hall, where he found the aristocratic Mr. -M'Quirk, with his chin as high as ever, marching up and down with a -free and easy swagger, and one arm akimbo, and whistling the while an -air of martial defiance. - -"Did you bring a note to me just now?" inquired Ashwoode. - -"I have had that pleasure," replied M'Quirk, with an aristocratic air. -"I presume I am addressed by Sir Henry Ashwoode, baronet. _I_ am Mr. -M'Quirk--Mr. Robert M'Quirk. Sir Henry, I kiss your hands--proud of the -honour of your acquaintance." - -"Is Mr. Chancey at his own lodging now?" inquired Ashwoode, without -appearing to hear the speeches which M'Quirk thought proper to deliver. - -"Why, no," replied the little gentleman. "Our friend Chancey is just -now swigging his pot of beer, and smoking his pen'orth of pigtail in -the "Old Saint Columbkil," in Ship Street--a comfortable house, Sir -Henry, as any in Dublin, and very cheap--cheap as dirt, sir. A Welsh -rarebit, one penny; a black pudding, and neat cut of bread, and three -leeks, for--how much do you guess?" - -"Have the goodness to conduct me to Mr. Chancey, wherever he is," said -Ashwoode drily. "I will follow--go on, sir." - -"Well, Sir Henry, I'm your man--I'm your man--glad of your company, Sir -Henry," exclaimed the insinuating Bobby M'Quirk; and following his -voluble conductor in obstinate silence, Sir Henry Ashwoode found -himself, after a dark and sloppy walk, for the first, though not for -the last time in his life, under the roof tree of the "Old Saint -Columbkil." - - - - -CHAPTER XXXIV. - -THE "OLD ST. COLUMBKIL"--A TETE-A-TETE IN THE "ROYAL RAM"--THE TEMPTER. - - -The "Old Saint Columbkil" was a sort of low sporting tavern frequented -chiefly by horse-jockeys, cock-fighters, and dog-fanciers; it had its -cock-pits, and its badger-baits, and an unpretending little "hell" of -its own; and, in short, was deficient in none of the attractions most -potent in alluring such company as it was intended to receive. - -As Ashwoode, preceded by his agreeable companion, made his way into the -low-roofed and irregular chamber, his senses were assailed by the thick -fumes of tobacco, the reek of spirits, and the heavy steams of the hot -dainties which ministered to the refined palates of the patrons of the -"Old Saint Columbkil;" and through the hazy atmosphere, seated at a -table by himself, and lighted by a solitary tallow candle with a -portentous snuff, and canopied in the clouds of tobacco smoke which he -himself emitted, Gordon Chancey was dimly discernible. - -"Ah! dear me, dear me. I'm right glad to see you--I declare to ----, I -am, Mr. Ashwoode," said that eminent barrister, when the young -gentleman had reached his side. "Indeed, I was thinking it was maybe -too late to see you to-night, and that things would have to go on. Oh, -dear me, but it's a regular Providence, so it is. You'd have been up in -lavender to-morrow, as sure as eggs is eggs. I'm gladder than a crown -piece, upon my soul, I am." - -"Don't talk of business here; cannot we have some place to ourselves -for five minutes, out of this stifling pig-sty. I can't bear the place; -besides, we shall be overheard," urged Ashwoode. - -"Well, and that's very true," assented Chancey, gently, "very true, so -it is; we'll get a small room above. You'll have to pay an extra -sixpenny bit for it though, but what signifies the matter of that? -M'Quirk, ask old Pottles if 'Noah's Ark' is empty--either that or the -'Royal Ram'--run, Bobby." - -"I have something else to do, Mr. Chancey," replied Mr. M'Quirk, with -_hauteur_. - -"Run, Bobby, run, man," repeated Chancey, tranquilly. - -"Run yourself," retorted M'Quirk, rebelliously. - -Chancey looked at him for a moment to ascertain by his visible aspect -whether he had actually uttered the audacious suggestion, and reading -in the red face of the little gentleman nothing but the most refractory -dispositions, he said with a low, dogged emphasis which experience had -long taught Mr. M'Quirk to respect,-- - -"Are you at your tricks again? D---- you, you blackguard, if you stand -prating there another minute, I'll open your head with this pot--be -off, you scoundrel." - -The learned counsel enforced his eloquence by knocking the pewter pot -with an emphatic clang upon the table. - -All the aristocratic blood of the M'Quirks mounted to the face of the -gentleman thus addressed; he suffered the noble inundation, however, to -subside, and after some hesitation, and one long look of unutterable -contempt, which Chancey bore with wonderful stoicism, he yielded to -prudential considerations, as he had often done before, and proceeded -to execute his orders. - -The effect was instantaneous--Pottles himself appeared. A short, stout, -asthmatic man was Pottles, bearing in his thoughtful countenance an -ennobling consciousness that human society would feel it hard to go on -without him, and carrying in his hand a soiled napkin, or rather clout, -with which he wiped everything that came in his way, his own forehead -and nose included. - -With pompous step and wheezy respiration did Pottles conduct his -honoured guests up the creaking stairs and into the "Royal Ram." He -raked the embers in the fire-place, threw on a piece of turf, and -planting the candle which he carried upon a table covered with slop and -pipe ashes, he wiped the candlestick, and then his own mouth carefully -with his dingy napkin, and asked the gentlemen whether they desired -anything for supper. - -"No, no, we want nothing but to be left to ourselves for ten or fifteen -minutes," said Ashwoode, placing a piece of money upon the table. "Take -this for the use of the room, and leave us." - -The landlord bowed and pocketed the coin, wheezed and bowed again, and -then waddled magnificently out of the room. Ashwoode got up and closed -the door after him, and then returning, drew his chair opposite to -Chancey's, and in a low tone asked,-- - -"Well, what is all this about?" - -"All about them notes, nothing else," replied Chancey, calmly. - -"Go on--what of them?" urged Ashwoode. - -"Can you pay them all to-morrow morning?" inquired Chancey, tranquilly. - -"To-morrow!" exclaimed Ashwoode. "Why, hell and death, man, you -promised to hold them over for three months. To-morrow! By ----, you -must be joking," and as he spoke his face turned pale as ashes. - -"I told you all along, Mr. Ashwoode," said Chancey drowsily, "that the -money was not my own; I'm nothing more than an agent in the matter, and -the notes are in the desk of that old bed-ridden cripple that lent it. -D----n him, he's as full of fumes and fancies as old cheese is of -maggots. He has taken it into his head that your paper is not safe, and -the devil himself won't beat it out of him; and the long and the short -of it is, Mr. Ashwoode, he's going to arrest you to-morrow." - -In vain Ashwoode strove to hide his agitation--he shook like a man in -an ague. - -"Good heavens! and is there no way of preventing this? Make him wait -for a week--for a day," said Ashwoode. - -"Was not I speaking to him ten times to-day--ay, twenty times," replied -Chancey, "trying to make him wait even for one day? Why, I'm hoarse -talking to him, and I might just as well be speaking to Patrick's -tower; so make your mind up to this. As sure as light, you'll be in -gaol before to-morrow's past, unless you either settle it early some -way or other, or take leg bail for it." - -"See, Chancey, I may as well tell you this," said Ashwoode, "before a -fortnight, perhaps before a week, I shall have the means of satisfying -these damned notes beyond the possibility of failure. Won't he hold -them over for so long?" - -"I might as well be asking him to cut out his tongue and give it to me -as to allow us even a day; he has heard of different accidents that has -happened to some of your paper lately--and the long and the short of it -is--he won't hear of it, nor hold them over one hour more than he can -help. I declare to ----, Mr. Ashwoode, I am very sorry for your -distress, so I am--but you say you'll have the money in a week?" - -"Ay, ay, ay, so I shall, _if_ he don't arrest me," replied Ashwoode; -"but if he does, my perdition's sealed; I shall lie in gaol till I rot; -but, curse it, can't the idiot see this?--if he waits a week or so -he'll get his money--every penny back again--but if he won't have -patience, he loses every sixpence to all eternity." - -"You might as well be arguing with an iron box as think to change that -old chap by talk, when he once gets a thing into his head," rejoined -Chancey. Ashwoode walked wildly up and down the dingy, squalid -apartment, exhibiting in his aristocratic form and face, and in the -rich and elegant suit, flashing even in the dim light of that solitary, -unsnuffed candle, with gold lace and jewelled buttons, and with cravat -and ruffles fluttering with rich point lace, a strange and startling -contrast to the slovenly and deserted scene of low debauchery which -surrounded him. - -"Chancey," said he, suddenly stopping and grasping the shoulder of the -sleepy barrister with a fierceness and energy which made him -start--"Chancey, rouse yourself, d---- you. Do you hear? Is there _no_ -way of averting this awful ruin--_is_ there none?" - -As he spoke, Ashwoode held the shoulder of the fellow with a gripe like -that of a vice, and stooping over him, glared in his face with the -aspect of a maniac. - -The lawyer, though by no means of a very excitable temperament, was -startled at the horrible expression which encountered his gaze, and -sate silently looking into his victim's face with a kind of -fascination. - -"Well," said Chancey, turning away his head with an effort--"there's -but one way I can think of." - -"What is it? Do you know anyone that _will_ take my note at a short -date? For God's sake, man, speak out at once, or my brain will turn. -What is it?" said Ashwoode. - -"Why, Mr. Ashwoode, to be plain with you," rejoined Chancey, "I do not -know a soul in Dublin that would discount for you to one-fourth of the -amount you require--but there is another way." - -"In the fiend's name, out with it, then," said Ashwoode, shaking him -fiercely by the shoulder. - -"Well, then, get Mr. Craven to join you in a bond for the amount," said -Chancey, "with a warrant of attorney to confess judgment." - -"Craven! Why, he knows as well as you do how I am dipped. He'd just as -readily thrust his hand into the fire," replied Ashwoode. "Is that your -hopeful scheme?" - -"Why, Mr. Craven might not do so well, after all," said Chancey, -meditatively, and without appearing to hear what the young baronet -said. "Oh! dear, dear, no, he would not do. Old Money-bags knows -him--no, no, that would not do." - -"Can your d----d scheming brain plot no invention to help me? In the -devil's name, where are your wits? Chancey, if you get me out of this -accursed fix, I'll make a man of you." - -"I got a whole lot of bills done for you once by the very same old -gentleman," continued Chancey, "and d----n heavy bills they were too, -but they had Mr. Nicholas Blarden's name across them; would not he lend -it again, if you told him how you stand? If you can come by the money -in a month or so, you may be sure he'll do it." - -"Better and better! Why, Blarden would ask no better fun than to see me -ruined, dead, and damned," rejoined Ashwoode, bitterly. "Cudgel your -brains for another bright thought." - -"Oh! dear me, dear me," said the barrister mildly, "I thought you were -the best of friends. Well, well, it's hard to know. But are you sure he -don't like you?" - -"It's odd if he does," said Ashwoode, "seeing it's scarce a month since -I trounced him almost to death in the theatre. Blarden, indeed!" - -"Well, Mr. Ashwoode, sit down here for a minute, and I'll say all I -have to say; and if you like it, well and good; and if not, there's no -harm done, and things must only take their course. Are you quite sure -of having the means within a month of taking up the notes?" - -"As sure as I am that I see you before me," replied he. - -"Well, then, get Mr. Blarden's name along with your own to your joint -and several bond--the old chap won't have anything more to do with -bills--so, do you mind, your joint and several bond, with warrant of -attorney to confess judgment--and I'll stake my life, he'll take it as -ready as so much cash, the instant I show it to him," said the lawyer -quietly. - -"Are you dreaming or drunk? Have not I told you twenty times over that -Blarden would cut his throat first?" retorted Ashwoode, passionately. - -"Why," said Chancey, fixing his cunning eyes, with a peculiar meaning, -upon the young man, and speaking with a lowered voice and marked -deliberateness, "perhaps if Mr. Blarden knew that his name was wanted -only to satisfy the whim of a fanciful old hunks--if he knew that -judgment should never be entered--if he knew that the bond should never -go outside a strong iron box, under an old bedridden cripple's bed--if -he knew that no questions should be asked as to how he came to write -his name at the foot of it--and if he knew that no mortal should ever -see it until you paid it long before the day it was due--and if he was -quite aware that the whole transaction should be considered so strictly -confidential, that even to _himself_--do you mind--no allusion should -be made to it;--don't you think, in such a case, you could, by some -means or other, manage to get his--_name_?" - -They continued to gaze fixedly at one another in silence, until, at -length, Ashwoode's countenance lighted into a strange, unearthly smile. - -"I see what you mean, Chancey--is it so?" said he, in a voice so low, -as scarcely to be audible. - -"Well, maybe you do," said the barrister, in a tone nearly as low, and -returning the young man's smile with one to the full as sinister. Thus -they remained without speaking for many minutes. - -"There's no danger in it," said Chancey, after a long pause; "I would -not take a part in it if there was. You can pay it eleven months before -it's due. It's a thing I have _known_ done a hundred times over, -without risk; here there _can_ be none. I do _all_ his business myself. -I tell you, that for anything that any living mortal but you and me and -the old badger himself will ever hear, or see, or know of the matter, -the bond might as well be burnt to dust in the back of the fire. I -declare to ---- it's the plain truth I'm telling you--Sir Henry--so it -is." - -There followed another silence of some minutes. At length Ashwoode -said, "I'd rather use any name but Blarden's, if it _must_ be done." - -"What does it matter whose name is on it, if there is no one but -ourselves to read it?" replied Chancey. "I say Blarden's is the best, -because he accepted bills for you before, which were discounted by the -same old codger; and again, because the old fellow knows that the money -was wanted to satisfy gambling debts, and Blarden would seem a very -natural party in a gaming transaction. Blarden's _is_ the name for us. -And, for myself, all I ask is fifty pounds for my share in the -trouble." - -"When must you have the bond?" asked Ashwoode. - -"Set about it _now_," said Chancey; "or stay, your hand shakes too -much, and for both our sakes it must be done neatly; so say to-morrow -morning, early. I'll see the old gentleman to-night, and have the -overdue notes to hand you in the morning. I think that's doing -business." - -"I would not do it--I'd rather blow my brains out--if there was a -single chance of his entering judgment on the bond, or talking of it," -said Ashwoode, in great agitation. - -"A _chance_!" said the barrister. "I tell you there's not a -_possibility_. I manage all his money matters, and I'd burn that bond, -before it should see the outside of his strong box. Why, d----n! do you -think I'd let myself be ruined for fifty pounds? You don't know Gordon -Chancey, indeed you don't, Mr. Ashwoode." - -"Well, Chancey, I'll see you early to-morrow morning," said Ashwoode; -"but are you very--_very_ sure--is there no chance--no _possibility_ -of--of mischief?" - -"I tell you, Mr. Ashwoode," replied Chancey, "unless I chose to betray -_myself_, you can't come by harm. As I told you before, I'm not such a -fool as to ruin myself. Rely on me, Mr. Ashwoode--rely on me. Do you -believe what I say?" - -Ashwoode walked slowly up to him, and fixing his eyes upon the -barrister, with a glance which made Chancey's heart turn chill within -him,-- - -"Yes, Mr. Chancey," he said, "you may be sure I believe you; for if I -did _not_--so help me, God!--you should not quit this room--alive." - -He eyed the caitiff for some minutes in silence, and then returning the -sword, which he had partially drawn, to its scabbard, he abruptly -wished him good-night, and left the room. - - - - -CHAPTER XXXV. - -OF THE COUSIN AND THE BLACK CABINET--AND OF HENRY ASHWOODE'S DECISIVE -INTERVIEW WITH LADY STUKELY. - - -"Well, then," said Ashwoode, a few days after the occurrences which -have just been faithfully recorded, "it behoves me without loss of time -to make provision for this infernal bond; until I see it burned to -dust, I feel as if I stood in the dock. This sha'n't last long--my -stars be thanked, one door of escape lies open to me, and through it I -will pass; the sun shall not go down upon my uncertainty. To be sure, I -shall be--but curse it, it can't be helped now; and let them laugh, and -quiz, and sneer as they please, two-thirds of them would be but too -glad to marry Lady Stukely with half her fortune, were she twice as old -and twice as ugly--if, indeed, either were possible. Pshaw! the laugh -will subside in a week, and in the style in which I shall open, curse -me, if half the world won't lie at my feet. Give me but -money--money--plenty of money, and though I be a paragon of absurdity -and vice, the whole town will vote me a Solomon and a saint; so let's -have no more shivering by the brink, but plunge boldly in at once and -have it over." - -Fortified with these reflections, Sir Henry Ashwoode vaulted lightly -into his saddle, and putting his horse into an easy canter, he found -himself speedily at Lady Stukely's house in Stephen's Green. His -servant held the rein and he dismounted, and, having obtained -admission, summoned all his resolution, lightly mounted the stairs, and -entered the handsome drawing-room. Lady Stukely was not there, but his -cousin, Emily Copland, received him. - -"Lady Betty is not visible, then?" inquired he, after a little chat -upon indifferent subjects. - -"I believe she is out shopping--indeed, you may be very certain she is -not at home," replied Emily, with a malicious smile; "her ladyship is -always visible to you. Now confess, have you ever had much cruelty or -coldness to complain of at dear Lady Stukely's hands?" - -Ashwoode laughed, and perhaps for a moment appeared a little -disconcerted. - -"I _do_ admit, then, as you insist on placing me in the confessional, -that I have always found Lady Betty as kind and polite as I could have -expected or hoped," rejoined Ashwoode, assuming a grave and -particularly proper air; "I were particularly ungrateful if I said -otherwise." - -"Oh, ho! so her ladyship has actually succeeded in inspiring my -platonic cousin with gratitude," continued Emily, in the same tone, -"and gratitude we all know is Cupid's best disguise. Alas, and -alack-a-day, to what vile uses may we come at last--alas, my poor coz." - -"Nay, nay, Emily," replied he, a little piqued, "you need not write my -epitaph yet; I don't see exactly why you should pity me so enormously." - -"Haven't you confessed that you glow with gratitude to Lady Stukely?" -rejoined she. - -"Nonsense! I said nothing about _glowing_; but what if I had?" answered -he. - -"Then you acknowledge that you _do_ glow! Heaven help him, the man -actually _glows_," ejaculated Emily. - -"Pshaw! stuff, nonsense. Emily, don't be a blockhead," said he, -impatiently. - -"Oh! Harry, Harry, Harry, don't deny it," continued she, shaking her -head with intense solemnity, and holding up her fingers in a monitory -manner--"you are then actually in love. Oh, Benedick, poor Benedick! -would thou hadst chosen some Beatrice not quite so well stricken in -years; but what of that?--the beauties of age, if less attractive to -the eye of thoughtless folly than those of youth, are unquestionably -more durable; time may rob the cheek of its bloom, but I defy him to -rob it of its rouge; years--I might say centuries--have no power to -blanche a wig or thin its flowing locks; and though the nymph be blind -with age, what matters it if the swain be blind with love? I make no -doubt you'll be fully as happy together as if she had twice as long to -live." - -Ashwoode poked the fire and blew his nose violently, but nevertheless -answered nothing. - -"The brilliant blush of her cheek and the raven blackness of her wig," -continued the incorrigible Emily, "in close and striking contrast, will -remind you, and I trust usefully, of that _rouge et noir_ which has -been your ruin all your days." - -Still Ashwoode spoke not. - -"The exquisite roundness of her ladyship's figure will remind you that -flesh, if not exactly grass, is at least very little better than bran -and buckram; and her smile will invariably suggest the great truth, -that whenever you do not intend to bite it is better not to show your -teeth, especially when they happen to be like her ladyship's; in short, -you cannot look at her without feeling that in every particular, if -rightly read, she supplied a moral lesson, so that in her presence -every unruly passion of man's nature must entirely subside and sink to -rest. Yes, she will make you happy--eminently happy; every little -attention, every caress, every fond glance she throws at you, will -delightfully assure your affectionate spirit, as it wanders in memory -back to the days of earliest childhood, that she will be to you all -that your beloved grandmother could have been, had she been spared. Oh! -Harry, Harry, this will indeed be too much happiness." - -Another pause ensued, and Emily approached Sir Henry as he stood -sulkily by the mantelpiece, and laying her hand upon his arm, looked -archly up into his face, while shaking her head she slowly said,-- - -"Oh! love, love--oh! Cupid, Cupid, mischievous little boy, what hast -thou done with my poor cousin's heart? - - "''Twas on a widow's jointure land - The archer, Cupid, took his stand.'" - -As she said this, she looked so unutterably mischievous and comical, -that in spite of his vexation and all his efforts to the contrary, he -burst into a long and hearty fit of laughter. - -"Emily," said he, at length, "you are absolutely incorrigible--gravity -in your company is entirely out of the question; but listen to me -seriously for one moment, if you can. I will tell you plainly how I am -circumstanced, and you must promise me in return that you will not quiz -me any more about the matter. But first," he added, cautiously, "let us -guard against eavesdroppers." - -He accordingly walked into the next room, which opened upon that in -which they were, and proceeded to close the far door. Before he had -reached it, however, that in the other room opened, and Lady Stukely -herself entered. The instant she appeared, Emily Copland by a gesture -enjoined silence, nodded towards the door of the next room, from which -Ashwoode's voice, as he carelessly hummed an air, was audible; she then -frowned, nodded, and pointed with vehement repetition toward a dark -recess in the wall, made darker and more secure by the flanking -projection of a huge, black, varnished cabinet. Lady Stukely looked -puzzled, took a step in the direction of the post of concealment -indicated by the girl, then looked puzzled, and hesitated again. More -impatiently Emily repeated her signal, and her ladyship, without any -distinct reason, but with her curiosity all alive, glided behind the -protecting cabinet, with all its army of china ornaments, into the -recess, and there remained entirely concealed. She had hardly effected -this movement, which the deep-piled carpet enabled her to do without -noise, when Ashwoode returned, closed the door of communication between -the two rooms, and then shut that through which Lady Stukely had just -entered, almost brushing against her as he did so, so close was their -proximity. These precautions taken, he returned. - -"Now," said he, in a low and deliberate tone, "the plain facts of the -case are just these. I am dipped over head and ears in debt--debts, -too, of the most urgent kind--debts which threaten me with ruin. Now, -these _must_ be paid--one way or another they _must_ be met. And to -effect this I have but one course--one expedient, and you have guessed -it. No man knows better than I what Lady Stukely is. I can see all that -is ridiculous and repulsive about her just as clearly as anybody else. -She is old enough to be my grandmother, and ugly enough to be the -devil's--and, moreover, painted and varnished over like a signboard. -She may be a fool--she may be a termagant--she may be what you -please--but--_but_ she has money. She has been throwing herself into my -arms this twelvemonth or more--and--but what the deuce is that?" - -This interrogatory was caused by certain choking sounds which proceeded -with fearful suddenness from the place of Lady Stukely's concealment, -and which were instantaneously followed by the appearance of her -ladyship in bodily presence. She opened her mouth, but gave utterance -to nothing but a gasp--drew herself up with such portentous and -swelling magnificence, that Ashwoode almost expected to see her expand -like the spectre of a magic-lantern until her head touched the ceiling. -Forward she came, in her progress sweeping a score of china ornaments -from the cabinet, and strewing the whole floor with the crashing -fragments of monkeys, monsters, and mandarins, breathless, choking, and -almost black with rage, Lady Stukely advanced to Ashwoode, who stood, -for the first time in his life, bereft of every vestige of -self-possession. - -"Painted! varnished!" she screamed hysterically, "ridiculous! -repulsive! Oh, heaven and earth! you--you preternatural monster!" With -these words she uttered two piercing shrieks, and threw herself in -strong hysterics into a chair, holding on her wig distractedly with one -hand, for fear of accidents. - - [Illustration: "'Painted! Varnished!' she screamed, hysterically." - _To face page 188._] - -"Don't--don't ring the bell," said she, with an abrupt accession of -fortitude, observing Emily Copland approach the bell. "Don't, I shall -be better presently." And then, with another shriek, she opened afresh. - -As the hysterics subsided, Ashwoode began a little to recover his -scattered wits, and observing that Lady Stukely had sunk back in -extreme languor and exhaustion, with closed eyes, he ventured to -approach the shrine of his outraged divinity. - -"I feel--indeed I own, Lady Stukely," he said, hesitatingly, "I have -much to explain. I ought to explain--yes, I ought. I will, Lady -Stukely--and--and I can entirely satisfy--completely dispel----" - -He was interrupted here; for Lady Stukely, starting bolt upright in the -chair, exclaimed,-- - -"You wretch! you villain! you perjured, scheming, designing, lying, -paltry, stupid, insignificant, outrageous----" - -Whether it was that her ladyship wanted words to supply a climax, or -that hysterics are usually attended with such results, we cannot -pretend to say, but certain it is that at this precise point the -languishing, fashionable, die-away Lady Stukely actually spat in the -young baronet's face. - -Ashwoode changed colour, as he promptly discharged the ridiculous but -very necessary task of wiping his face. With difficulty he restrained -himself under this provocation, but he did command himself so far as to -say nothing. He turned on his heel and walked downstairs, muttering as -he went,-- - -"An old painted devil!" - -The cool air, as he passed out, speedily dissipated the confusion and -excitement of the scene that had just passed, and all the consequences -of his rupture with Lady Stukely rushed upon his mind with overwhelming -and maddening force. - -"You were right, perfectly right--he _is_ a cheat--a trickster--a -villain!" exclaimed Lady Stukely. "Only to think of him! Oh, heaven and -earth!" And again she was seized with violent hysterics, in which state -she was conducted up to her bedroom by Emily Copland, who had enjoyed -the catastrophe with an intensity of relish which none but a female, -and a mischievous one to boot, can know. - -Loud and repeated were Lady Stukely's thanksgivings for having escaped -the snares of the designing young baronet, and warm and multiplied and -grateful her acknowledgments to Emily Copland--to whom, however, from -that time forth she cherished an intense dislike. - - - - -CHAPTER XXXVI. - -OF JEWELS, PLATE, HORSES, DOGS, AND FAMILY PICTURES--AND CONCERNING THE -APPOINTED HOUR. - - -In a state little, if at all, short of distraction, Sir Henry Ashwoode -threw himself from his horse at Morley Court. That resource which he -had calculated upon with absolute certainty had totally failed him; his -last stake had been played and lost, and ruin in its most hideous -aspect stared him in the face. - -Spattered from heel to head with mud--for he had ridden at a reckless -speed--with a face pale as that of a corpse, and his dress all -disordered, he entered the great old parlour, and scarcely knowing what -he did, dashed the door to with violence and bolted it. His brain swam -so that the floor seemed to heave and rock like a sea; he cast his -laced hat and his splendid peruke (the envy and admiration of half the -_petit maitres_ in Dublin) upon the ground, and stood in the centre of -the room, with his hands clutched upon the temples of his bare, shorn -head, and his teeth set, the breathing image of despair. From this -state he was roused by some one endeavouring to open the door. - -"Who's there?" he shouted, springing backward and drawing his sword, as -if he expected a troop of constables to burst in. - -Whoever the party may have been, the attempt was not repeated. - -"What's the matter with me--am I mad?" said Ashwoode, after a terrible -pause, and hurling his sword to the far end of the room. "Lie there. -I've let the moment pass--I might have done it--cut the Gordian knot, -and there an end of all. What brought me here?" - -He stared about the room, for the first time conscious where he stood. - -"Damn these pictures," he muttered; "they're all alive--everything -moves towards me." He flung himself into a chair and clasped his -fingers over his eyes. "I can't breathe--the place is suffocating. Oh, -God! I shall go mad!" He threw open one of the windows and stood -gasping at it as if he stood at the mouth of a furnace. - -"Everything is hot and strange and maddening--I can't endure -this--brain and heart are bursting--it is HELL." - -In a state of excitement which nearly amounted to downright insanity, -he stood at the open window. It was long before this extravagant -agitation subsided so as to allow room for thought or remembrance. At -length he closed the window, and began to pace the room from end to end -with long and heavy steps. He stopped by a pier-table, on which stood a -china bowl full of flowers, and plunging his hands into it, dashed the -water over his head and face. - -"Let me think--let me think," said he. "I was not wont to be thus -overcome by reverse. Surely I can master as much as will pay that -thrice-accursed bond, if I could but collect my thoughts--there must -yet be the means of meeting it. Let _that_ be but paid, and then, -welcome ruin in any other shape. Let me see. Ay, the furniture; then -the pictures--some of them valuable--_very_ valuable; then the horses -and the dogs; and then--ay, the plate. Why, to be sure--what have I -been dreaming of?--the plate will go half-way to satisfy it; and -then--what else? Let me see. The whole thing is six thousand four -hundred and fifty pounds--what more? Is there _nothing_ more to meet -it? The plate--the furniture--the pictures--ay, idiot that I am, why -did I not think of them an hour since?--my sister's jewels--why, it's -all settled--how the devil came it that I never thought of them before? -It's very well, however, as it is--for if I had, they would have gone -long ago. Come, come, I breathe again--I have gotten my neck out of the -hemp, at all events. I'll send in for Craven this moment. He likes a -bargain, and he shall have one--before to-morrow's sun goes down, that -d----d bond shall be ashes. Mary's jewels are valued at two thousand -pounds. Well, let him take them at one thousand five hundred; and the -pictures, plate, furniture, dogs, and horses for the rest--and he has a -bargain. These jewels have saved me--bribed the hangman. What care I -how or when I die, if I but avert that. Ten to one I blow my brains out -before another month. A short life and a merry one was ever the motto -of the Ashwoodes; and as the mirth is pretty well over with me, I begin -to think it time to retire. _Satis edisti, satis bipisti, satis -lusisti, tempus est tibi abire_--what am I raving about? There's -business to be done now--to it, then--to it like a man--while we _are_ -alive let us _be_ alive." - -Craven liked his bargain, and engaged that the money should be duly -handed at noon next day to Sir Henry Ashwoode, who forthwith bade the -worthy attorney good-night, and wrote the following brief note to -Gordon Chancey, Esq.:-- - - "SIR, - - "I shall call upon you to-morrow at one of the clock, if the hour - suit you, upon particular business, and shall be much obliged by - your having a _certain security_ by you, which I shall then be - prepared to redeem. - - "I remain, sir, your very obedient servant, - - "HENRY ASHWOODE." - -"So," said Sir Henry, with a half shudder, as he folded and sealed this -missive, "I shall, at all events, escape the halter. To-morrow night, -spite of wreck and ruin, I shall sleep soundly. God knows, I want rest. -Since I wrote that name, and gave that accursed bond out of my hands, -my whole existence, waking and sleeping, has been but one abhorred and -ghastly nightmare. I would gladly give a limb to have that d----d scrap -of parchment in my hand this moment; but patience, patience--one night -more--one night only--of fevered agony and hideous dreams--one last -night--and then--once more I am my own master--my character and safety -are again in my own hands--and may I die the death, if ever I risk them -again as I have done--one night more--would--_would_ to God it were -morning!" - - - - -CHAPTER XXXVII. - -THE RECKONING--CHANCEY'S LARGE CAT--AND THE COACH. - - -The morning arrived, and at the appointed hour Sir Henry Ashwoode -dismounted in Whitefriar Street, and gave the bridle of his horse to -the groom who accompanied him. - -"Well," thought he, as he entered the dingy, dilapidated square in -which Chancey's lodgings were situated, "this matter, at all events, is -arranged--I sha'n't hang, though I'm half inclined to allow I deserve -to do so for my infernal folly in trying the thing at all; but no -matter, it has given me a lesson I sha'n't soon forget. As to the rest, -what care I now? Let ruin pounce upon me in any shape but that--luckily -I have still enough to keep body and soul together left." - -He paused to indulge in ruminations of no very pleasant kind, and then -half muttered,-- - -"I have been a fool--I have walked in a dream. Only to think of a man -like me, who has seen something of the world, allowing that d----d hag -to play him such a trick. Well, I believe it _is_ true, after all, that -we cannot have wisdom without paying for it. If my acquisitions bear -any proportion to my outlay, I ought to be a Solomon by this time." - -The door was opened to his summons by Gordon Chancey himself. When -Ashwoode entered, Chancey carefully locked the door on the inside and -placed the key in his pocket. - -"It's as well, Sir Henry, to be on the safe side," observed Chancey, -shuffling towards the table. "Dear me, dear me, there's no such thing -as being too careful--is there, Sir Henry?" - -"Well, well, well, let's to business," said young Ashwoode, hurriedly, -seating himself at the end of a heavy deal table, at which was a chair, -and taking from his pocket a large leathern pocket-book. "You have -the--the security here?" - -"Of course--oh, dear, of course," replied the barrister; "the bond and -warrant of attorney--that d----d forgery--it is in the next room, very -safe--oh, dear me, yes indeed." - -It struck Ashwoode that there was something, he could not exactly say -what, unusual and sinister in the manner of Mr. Chancey, as well as in -his emphasis and language, and he fixed his eye upon him for a moment -with a searching glance. The barrister, however, busied himself with -tumbling over some papers in a drawer. - -"Well, why don't you get it?" asked Ashwoode, impatiently. - -"Never mind, never mind," replied Chancey; "do _you_ reckon your money -over, and be very sure the bond will come time enough. I don't wonder, -though, you're eager to have it fast in your own hands again--but it -will come--it will come." - -Ashwoode proceeded to open the pocket-book and to turn over the notes. - -"They're all right," said he, "they're all right. But, hush!" he added, -slightly changing colour--"I hear something stirring in the next room." - -"Oh, dear, dear, it's nothing but the cat," rejoined Chancey, with an -ugly laugh. - -"Your cat treads very heavily," said Ashwoode, suspiciously. - -"So it does," rejoined Chancey, "it does tread heavy; it's a very large -cat, so it is; it has wonderful great claws; it can see in the dark; -it's a great cat; it never missed a rat yet; and I've seen it lure the -bird off a branch with the mere power of its eye; it's a great cat--but -reckon your money, and I'll go in for the bond." - -This strange speech was uttered in a manner at least as strange, and -Chancey, without waiting for commentary or interruption, passed into -the next room. The step crossed the adjoining chamber, and Ashwoode -heard the rustling of papers; it then returned, the door opened, and -_not_ Gordon Chancey, but Nicholas Blarden entered the room and -confronted Sir Henry Ashwoode. Personal fear in bodily conflict was a -thing unknown to the young baronet, but now all courage, all strength -forsook him, and he stood gazing in vacant horror upon that, to him, -most tremendous apparition, with a face white as ashes, and covered -with the starting dews of terror. - -With that hideous combination, a smile and a scowl, stamped upon his -coarse features, the wretch stood with folded arms, in an attitude of -indescribable exultation, gazing with savage, gloating eyes full upon -his appalled and terror-stricken victim. Fixed as statues they both -remained for several minutes. - -"Ho, ho, ho! you look frightened, young man," exclaimed Blarden, with a -horse laugh; "you look as if you were going to be hanged--you look as -if the hemp were round your neck--you look as if the hangman had you by -the collar, you do--ho, ho, ho!" - -Ashwoode's bloodless lips moved, but utterance was gone. - -"It's hard to get the words out," continued Blarden, with ferocious -glee. "I never knew the man yet could do a last dying speech smooth--a -sort of choking comes on, eh?--the sight of the minister and the -hangman makes a man feel so quare, eh?--and the coffin looks so ugly, -and all the crowd; it's confusing somehow, and puts a man out, eh?--ho, -ho, ho!" - -Ashwoode laid his hand upon his forehead, and gazed on in blank horror. - -"Why, you're not such a great man, by half, as you were in the -play-house the other evening," continued Blarden; "you don't look so -grand, by any manner of means. Some way or other, you look a little -sickish or so. I'm afraid you don't like my company--ho, ho, ho!" - -Still Sir Henry remained locked in the same stupefied silence. - -"Ho, ho! you seem to think your hemp is twisted, and your boards -sawed," resumed Blarden; "you seem to think you're in a fix at -last--and so do I, by ----!" he thundered, "for _I_ have the rope -fairly round your weasand, and, by ---- I'll make you dance upon -nothing, at Gallows Hill, before you're a month older. Do you hear -_that_--do you--you swindler? Eh--you gaol-bird, you common forger, you -robber, you crows' meat--who holds the winning cards now?" - -"Where--where's the bond?" said Ashwoode, scarce audibly. - -"Where's your precious bond, you forger, you gibbet-carrion?" shouted -Blarden, exultingly. "Where's your forged bond--the bond that will -crack your neck for you--where is it, eh? Why, here--here in my -breeches pocket--_that's_ where it is. I hope you think it safe -enough--eh, you gallows-tassle?" - -Yielding to some confused instinctive prompting to recover the fatal -instrument, Ashwoode drew his sword, and would have rushed upon his -brutal and triumphant persecutor; but Blarden was not unprepared even -for this. With the quickness of light, he snatched a pistol from his -coat pocket, recoiling, as he did so, a hurried pace or two, and while -he turned, coward as he was, pale and livid as death, he levelled it at -the young man's breast, and both stood for an instant motionless, in -the attitudes of deadly antagonism. - -"Put up your sword; I have you there, as well as everywhere -else--regularly checkmated, by ----!" shouted Blarden, with the -ferocity of half-desperate cowardice. "Put up your sword, I say, and -don't be a bloody idiot, along with everything else. Don't you see -you're done for?--there's not a chance left you. You're in the cage, -and there's no need to knock yourself to pieces against the -bars--you're done for, I tell you." - -With a mute but expressive gesture of despair, Ashwoode grasped his -sword by the slender, glittering blade, and broke it across. The -fragments dropped from his hands, and he sunk almost lifeless into a -chair--a spectacle so ghastly, that Blarden for a moment thought that -death was about to rescue his victim. - -"Chancey, come out here," exclaimed Blarden; "the fellow has taken the -staggers--come out, will you?" - -"Oh! dear me, dear me," said Chancey, in his own quiet way, "but he -looks very bad." - -"Go over and shake him," said Blarden, still holding the pistol in his -hand. "What are you afraid of? He can't hurt you--he has broken his -bilbo across--the symbol of gentility. By ----! he's a good deal down -in the mouth." - -While they thus debated, Ashwoode rose up, looking more like a corpse -endowed with motion than a living man. - -"Take me away at once," said he, with a sullen wildness--"take me away -to gaol, or where you will--anywhere were better than this place. Take -me away; I am ruined--blasted. Make the most of it--your infernal -scheme has succeeded--take me to prison." - -"Oh, murder! he wants to go to gaol--do you hear him, Chancey?" cried -Blarden--"such an elegant, fine gentleman to think of such a thing: -only to think of a baronet in gaol--and for forgery, too--and the -condemned cell such an ungentlemanly sort of a hole. Why, you'd have to -use perfumes to no end, to make the place fit for the reception of your -aristocratic visitors--my Lord this, and my Lady that--for, of course, -you'll keep none but the best of company--ho, ho, ho! Perhaps the judge -that's to try you may turn out to be an old acquaintance, for your luck -is surprising--isn't it, Chancey?--and he'll pay you a fine compliment, -and express his regret when he's going to pass sentence, eh?--ho, ho, -ho! But, after all, I'd advise you, if the condescension is not too -much to expect from such a very fine gentleman as you, to consort as -much as possible with the turnkey--he's the most useful friend you can -make, under your peculiarly delicate circumstances--ho, ho!--eh? It's -just possible he mayn't like to associate with you, for some of them -fellows are rather stiff, d'ye see, and won't keep company with certain -classes of the coves in quod, such as forgers or pickpockets; but if -he'll allow it, you'd better get intimate with him--ho, ho, ho!--eh?" - -"Take me to the prison, sir," said Ashwoode, sternly--"I suppose you -mean to do so. Let your officers remove me at once--you have, no doubt, -men for the purpose in the next room. Let them call a coach, and I will -go with them--but let it be at once." - -"Well, you're not far out there, by ----!" replied Blarden. "I _have_ a -broad-shouldered acquaintance or two, and a little bit of a -warrant--you understand?--in the next apartment. Grimes, Grimes, come -in here--you're wanted." - -A huge, ill-looking fellow, with his coat buttoned up to his chin, and -a short pipe protruding from the corner of his mouth, swaggered into -the chamber, with that peculiar gait which seems as if contracted by -habitually shouldering and jostling through mobs and all manner of -riotous assemblies. - -"_That's_ the bird?" said the fellow, interrogatively, and pointing -with his pipe carelessly at Ashwoode. "You're my prisoner," he added, -gruffly addressing the unfortunate young man, and at the same time -planting his ponderous hand heavily upon his shoulder, he in the other -exhibited a crumpled warrant. - -"Grimes, go call a coach," said Blarden, "and don't be a brace of -shakes about it, do you mind." - -Grimes departed, and Blarden, after a long pause, suddenly addressing -himself to Ashwoode, resumed, in a somewhat altered tone, but with -intenser sternness still,-- - -"Now, I tell you what it is, my young cove, I have a sort of half a -notion not to send you to gaol at all, do you hear?" - -"Pshaw, pshaw!" said Ashwoode, turning bitterly away. - -"I tell you I'm speaking what I mean," rejoined Blarden; "I'll not send -you there _now_ at any rate. I want to have a bit of chat with you this -evening, and it shall rest with you whether you go there at all or not; -I'll give you the choice fairly. We'll meet, then, at Morley Court this -evening, at eight o'clock; and for fear of accidents in the meantime, -you'll have no objection to our mutual friend, Mr. Chancey, and our -common acquaintance, Mr. Grimes, accompanying you home in the coach, -and just keeping an eye on you till I come, for fear you might be out -walking when I call--you understand me? But here's Grimes. Mr. Grimes, -my particular friend Sir Henry Ashwoode has taken an extraordinary -remarkable fancy to you, and wishes to know whether you'll do him the -favour to take a jaunt with him in a carriage to see his house at -Morley Court, and to spend the day with him and Mr. Chancey, for he -finds that his health requires him to keep at home, and he has a -particular objection to be left alone, even for a minute. Sir Henry, -the coach is at the door. You'd better bundle up your bank-notes, they -may be useful to you. Chancey, tell Sir Henry's groom, as you pass, -that he'll not want his horse any more to-day." - -The party went out; Sir Henry, pale as death, and scarcely able to -support himself on his limbs, walking between Chancey and the herculean -constable. Blarden saw them safely shut up in the vehicle, and giving -the coachman his orders, gazed after them as they drove away in the -direction of Morley Court, with a flushed face and a bounding heart. - - - - -CHAPTER XXXVIII. - -STRANGE GUESTS AT THE MANOR. - - -The coach jingled, jolted, and rumbled on, and Ashwoode lay back in the -crazy conveyance in a kind of stupefied apathy. The scene which had -just closed was, in his mind, a chaos of horrible confusion--a hideous, -stunning dream, whose incidents, as they floated through his passive -memory, seemed like unreal and terrific exaggerations, into whose -reality he wanted energy and power to inquire. Still before him sate a -breathing evidence of the truth of all these confused and horrible -recollections--the stalwart, ruffianly figure of the constable--with -his great red horny hands, and greasy cuffs, and the heavy coat -buttoned up to his unshorn chin--and the short, discoloured pipe, -protruding from the corner of his mouth--lounging back with half-closed -eyes, and the air of a man who had passed the night in wearisome vigils -among strife and riot, and who has acquired the compensating power of -dividing his faculties at all times pretty nearly between sleep and -waking--a kind of sottish, semi-existence--something between that of a -swine and a sloth. Over this figure the eyes of the young man vacantly -wandered, and thence to the cheerful fields and trees visible from the -window, and back again to the burly constable, until every seam and -button in his coat grew familiar to his mind as the oldest tenants of -his memory. Beside him, too, sate Chancey--his artful, cowardly -betrayer. Yet even against him he could not feel anger; all energy of -thought and feeling seemed lost to him; and nothing but a dull -ambiguous incredulity and a scared stupor were there in their stead. -On--on they rolled and rumbled, among pleasant fields and stately -hedge-rows, toward the ancestral dwelling of the miserable prisoner, -who sate like a lifeless effigy, yielding passively to every jolt and -movement of the carriage. - -"I say, Grimes, were you ever out here before?" inquired Mr. Chancey. -"We'll soon be in the manor, driving up to Morley Court. It's a fine -place, I'm given to understand. I never was here but once before, long -as I know Sir Henry; but better late than never. Do you know this -place, Mr. Grimes?" - -A negative grunt and a short nod relieved Mr. Grimes from the painful -necessity of removing his pipe for the purpose of uttering an -articulate answer. - -"Oh, dear me, dear me," resumed Mr. Chancey, "but I'm uncommon hungry -and dry. I wish to God we were safe and sound in Sir Henry's house. -Grimes, are _you_ dry?" - -Mr. Grimes removed his pipe, and spat upon the coach floor. - -"Am I dhry?" said he. "About as dhry as a sprat in a tindher-box, -that's all. Is there much more to go?" - -Chancey stretched his head out of the coach window. - -"I see the old piers of the avenue," said he; "and God knows but it's I -that's glad we're near our journey's end. Now we're passing in--we're -in the avenue." - -Mr. Grimes hereupon uttered a grunt of approbation; and pressing down -the ashes of his pipe with his thumb, he deposited that instrument in -his waistcoat pocket--whence, at the same time, he drew a small plug of -tobacco, which he inserted in his mouth, and rolled it about with his -tongue from time to time during the remainder of their progress. - -"Sir Henry, we're arrived," said Chancey, admonishing the baronet with -his elbow--"we're at the hall-door at Morley Court. Sir Henry--dear me, -dear me, he's very abstracted, so he is. I say, Sir Henry, we're at -Morley Court." - -Ashwoode looked vacantly in Chancey's face, and then upon the stately -door of the old house, and suddenly recollecting himself, he said with -strange alacrity,-- - -"Ay, ay--at Morley Court--so we are. Come, then, gentlemen, let us get -down." - -Accordingly the three companions descended from the conveyance, and -entered the ancient dwelling-house together. - -"Follow me, gentlemen," said Ashwoode, leading the way to a small, -oak-wainscoted parlour. "You shall have refreshments immediately." - -He called the servant to the door, and continued addressing himself to -Chancey, and his no less refined companion. - -"Order what you please, gentlemen--I can't think of these things just -now; and, sirrah, do you hear me, bring a large vessel of water--my -throat is literally scorched." - -"Well, Mr. Chancey, what do you say?" said Grimes. "I'm for a couple of -bottles of sack, and a good pitcher of ale, to begin with, in the way -of liquor." - -"Well, it wouldn't be that bad," said Chancey. "What meat have you on -the spit, my good man?" - -"I don't exactly know, sir," replied the wondering domestic; "but I'll -inquire." - -"And see, my good man," continued Chancey, "ask them whether there -isn't some cold roast beef in the buttery; and if so, bring it up in a -jiffy, for, I declare to G--d I'm uncommon hungry; and let the cook -send up a hot joint directly;--and do you mind, my honest man, light a -bit of a fire here, for it's rather chill, and put plenty of dry -sticks----" - -"Give us the ale and the sack this instant minute, do you see," said -Mr. Grimes. "You may do the rest after." - -"Yes, you may as well," resumed Chancey; "for indeed I'm lost with the -drooth myself." - -"Cut your stick, saucepan," said Mr. Grimes, authoritatively; and the -servant departed in unfeigned astonishment to execute his various -commissions. - -Ashwoode threw himself into a seat, and in silence endeavoured to -collect his thoughts. Faint, sick, and stunned, he nevertheless began -gradually to comprehend every particular of his position more and more -fully--until at length all the ghastly truth stood revealed to his -mind's eye in vivid and glaring distinctness. While Ashwoode was -engaged in his agreeable ruminations, Mr. Chancey and Mr. Grimes were -busily employed in discussing the substantial fare which his larder had -supplied, and pledging one another in copious libations of generous -liquor. - - - - -CHAPTER XXXIX. - -THE BARGAIN, AND THE NEW CONFEDERATES. - - -At length the evening came--darkness closed over the old place, and as -the appointed hour approached, Ashwoode became more and more excited. - -"I must," thought he, "keep every faculty intensely on the stretch, to -detect, if possible, the nature of their schemes. Blarden and Chancey -have unquestionably hatched some other d----d plot, though what worse -can befall me? _I_ am netted as completely as their worst malice can -desire. It is now seven o'clock. Another hour will determine all my -doubts. Hark you, sirrah!" continued he, raising his voice, and -addressing a servant who had entered the chamber, "I expect a gentleman -upon particular business at eight o'clock. On his arrival conduct him -directly to this room." - -He then relapsed into the same train of gloomy and agitated thought. - -Chancey and his burly companion both sat snugly before the fire smoking -their pipes in silent enjoyment, while their miserable host paced the -room from wall to wall in mental torments indescribable. - -At length the weary interval expired, and within a few minutes of the -appointed hour, Nicholas Blarden was admitted by the servant, and -ushered into the chamber in which Ashwoode expected his arrival. - -"Well, Sir Henry," exclaimed Blarden, as he swaggered into the room, -"you seem a little flustered still--eh? Hope you found your company -pleasant. My friends' society is considered uncommon agreeable." - -The visitor here threw himself into a chair, and continued-- - -"By the holy Saint Paul, as I rode up your cursed old dusky avenue, I -began to think the chances were ten to one you had brought your throat -and a razor acquainted before this. I have known men do it under your -circumstances--of course I mean _gentlemen_, with fine friends and -delicate habits, and who could not stand exposure and all that kind of -thing. I say, Mr. Grimes, my sweet fellow, you may leave the room, but -keep within call, do ye mind. Mr. Chancey and I want to have a little -confidential conversation with my friend, Sir Henry. Bundle out, and -the moment you hear me call your name, bolt in again like a shot." - -Mr. Grimes, without answering, rose and lounged out of the room. - -"Chancey, shut that door," continued Blarden. "Shut it tight, as tight -as a drum. There, to your seat again. _Now_ then, Sir Henry, we may as -well to business; but first of all, sit down. I have no objection to -your sitting. Don't be shy." - -Sir Henry Ashwoode _did_ seat himself, and the three members of this -secret council drew their chairs around the table, each with very -different feelings. - -"I take it for granted," said Blarden, planting his elbow upon the -table, and supporting his chin upon his hand, while he fixed his -baleful eyes upon the young man, "I take it for granted, and as a -matter of course, that you have been puzzling your brains all day to -come at the reason why I allow you to be sitting in this house, instead -of clapping your four bones under lock and key, in another place." - -He paused here, as if to allow his exordium to impress itself upon the -memory of his auditory, and then resumed,-- - -"And I take it for granted, moreover, that you are not quite fool -enough to imagine that I care one blast if you were strung up by the -hangman, and carved by the doctors, to-morrow--eh?" - -He paused again. - -"Well, then, it's possible you think I have some end of my own to -serve, by letting the matter stand over this way. And so I _have_, by -----. You think right, if you never thought right before. I _have_ an -object in view, and it lies with you whether it's gained or lost. Do -you mind?" - -"Go on--go on--go on," repeated Ashwoode, gloomily. - -"What a devil of a hurry you're in," observed Blarden, with a scornful -chuckle. "But don't tear yourself; you'll have it all time enough. Now -I'm going to do great things for you--do you mind me? I'm going, in the -first place, to give you your life and your character--such as it is; -and, what's more, I'll not let you go to jail for debt neither. I'll -not let you be ruined; for Nickey Blarden was never the man to do -things by halves. Do you hear all I'm saying?" - -"Yes, yes," said Ashwoode, faintly; "but the condition--come to -that--the condition." - -"Well, I _will_ come to that. I will tell you the terms," rejoined -Blarden. "I suppose you need not be told that I am worth a good penny, -no matter how much. At any rate I'm _rich_--that much you _do_ know. -Well, perhaps you'll think it odd that I have not taken up a little to -live more quiet and orderly; in short, that I have not sown my wild -oats, and settled down, and all that, and become what they call an -ornament to society--eh? You, perhaps, wonder how it comes I have not -taken a rib--why I have not got married--eh? Well, I think myself it -_is_ a wonder, especially for such an admirer of the sex as I am, and I -think it's a pity besides, and so I've made up my mind to mend the -matter, do you see, and to take a wife without loss of time. She must -have family, for I want that, and she must have beauty, for I would not -marry the queen without it--family and beauty. I don't ask money; I -have more of my own than I well know what to do with. Family and beauty -is what I require. And I have settled the thing in my own mind, that -the very article I want, just the thing to a nicety, is your -sister--little, bright-eyed Mary--sporting Molly. I wish to marry her, -and her I'll _have_--and that's the long and the short of the whole -business." - -"You--_you_ marry my sister," exclaimed Ashwoode, returning the -fellow's insolent gaze with a look of indescribable scorn and -astonishment. - -"Yes--I--I myself--I, Nicholas Blarden, with more gold than a man could -count in three lives," shouted Blarden, returning his gaze with a scowl -of defiance--"_I_ condescend to marry the sister of a ruined, beggared -profligate--a common _forger_, who has one foot in the dock at this -minute. Down upon your marrow-bones, and thank me for my -condescension--down, I say." - -Overwhelmed with indignation and disgust, Ashwoode could not answer. -All his self-command was required to resist his vehement internal -impulse to strike the fellow to the ground and trample upon him. This -strong emotion, however, had its spring in no generous source. No -thought or care for Mary's feelings or fate crossed his mind; but only -the sense of insulted pride, for even in the midst of all his misery -and abasement, his hereditary pride of birth survived: that this low, -this entirely blasted, this branded ruffian should dare to propose to -ally himself with the Ashwoodes of Morley Court--a family whose blood -was as pure as centuries of aristocratic transmission, and repeated -commixture with that of nobility, could make it--a family who stood, in -consideration and respect, one of the very highest of the country! -Could flesh and blood endure it? - -"Make your mind up at once--I have no time to spare; and just remember -that the locality of your night's lodging depends upon your decision," -said Blarden, coolly, looking at his watch. "If, unfortunately for -yourself, you should resolve against the connection, then you must have -the goodness to accompany us into town to-night, and the law takes its -course quietly with you, and your neck-bone must only reconcile itself -to an ugly bit of a twist. If otherwise, you're a made man. Run the -matter fairly over in your mind, and see which of us two should desire -the thing most. As for me, I tell you plainly, it's a bit of a -fancy--no more--and may pass off in a day or two, for I don't pretend -to be extraordinarily steady in love affairs, and always had rather a -roving eye; and if I _should_ happen to cool, by ----, you'll be in a -nice hobble. So I think you had best take the ball at the hop--do you -mind--and make no mouths at your good fortune." - -Blarden paused, and looked at his huge chased-gold watch again, and -laid it on the table, as if to measure Ashwoode's deliberation by the -minute. Meanwhile the young baronet had ample time to recollect the -desperate pressure of his circumstances, which outraged pride had for a -moment half obliterated from his mind, and the process of remembrance -was in no small degree assisted by the heavy tread of the constable, -distinctly audible from the hall. - -"Blarden," said Ashwoode, in a voice low and husky with agitation, -"she'll never consent--you can't expect it: she'll never marry you." - -"I'm not talking of the girl's consent just now," replied Blarden: "I'm -asking only for _yours_ in the first place. Am I to understand that -you're agreed?" - -"Yes," replied Ashwoode, sullenly; "what is there left to me, but to -agree?" - -"Then leave me alone to gain _her_ consent," retorted Blarden, with a -brutal smile. "I have a bit of a winning way with me--a knack of my -own--for coming round a girl; and if she don't yield to that, why we -must only try another course. When love is wanting, _obedience_ is the -next best thing: although we can't charm her, she's no girl if we can't -frighten her--eh?" - -Ashwoode was silent. - -"Now mind, I require your active co-operation," continued Blarden; -"there's to be no shamming. I'm no greenhorn, and know a loaded die -from a fair one. It's not safe to try hocus pocus with me, and if I -don't get the girl, of course you're no brother of mine, and must not -expect me to forget the old score that's between us. Do you understand -me? Unless you bring this marriage about, you must only take the -consequences, and I promise you they'll be of the very ugliest possible -description." - -"Agreed, agreed; talk no more of it just now," said Ashwoode, -vehemently--"we understand one another. Tomorrow we may talk of it -again; meanwhile torment me no more!" - -"Well, I have said my say," rejoined Blarden, "and have nothing more to -do but to inform you, that I intend passing the night here, and, in -short, to make a visit of a week or so, for it's right the young lady -should have an opportunity of knowing my geography before she marries -me; and besides, I have heard a great account of old Sir Richard's -cellar. Chancey, do you tell my servant to bring my things up to the -room that Sir Henry will point out. Sir Henry, you'll see about my -room--have a bit of fire in it--see to it yourself, mind; for do you -mind, between ourselves, I think it's on the whole your better course -to be uncommonly civil to me. Stir yourselves, gentlemen. And, Chancey, -hand Grimes his fee, and let him be off. We'll try a jug of your -claret, Sir Henry, and a spatchcock, or some little thing of the kind, -and then to our virtuous beds--eh?" - -After a carousal protracted to nearly three hours, during which Nickey -Blarden treated his two companions to sundry ballads, and other vocal -efforts somewhat more boisterous than elegant, and supplying frequent -allusion, and not of the most delicate kind, to his contemplated change -of condition, that interesting person proceeded somewhat unsteadily -upstairs to his bed-chamber. With a suspicion, which even his tipsiness -could not overcome, he jealously bolted the door upon the inside, and -laid his sword and pistols upon the table by his bed, remembering that -it was just possible that his entertainer might conceive an expeditious -project for relieving himself of all his troubles, or at least the -greater part of them. These pleasant precautions taken, Mr. Blarden -undressed himself with all celerity and threw himself into bed. - -This gentleman's opinion of mankind was by no means exalted, nor at all -complimentary to human nature. Utter, hardened selfishness he believed -to be the master-passion of the human race, and any appeal which -addressed itself to that, he looked upon as irresistible. In applying -this rule to Sir Henry Ashwoode he happened, indeed, to be critically -correct, for the young baronet was in very nearly all points fashioned -precisely according to honest Nickey's standard of humanity. That -gentleman experienced, therefore, no misgivings as to his young -friend's preferring at all hazards to remain at Morley Court, rather -than quit the country, and enter upon a life of vagabond beggary. - -"No, no," thought Blarden, "he'll not take leg bail, just because he -can gain nothing earthly by it now; the only thing I can see that could -serve him at all--that is, supposing him to be against the match--is to -cut my throat; however, I don't think he's wild enough to run that -risk, and if he does try it, by ----, he'll have the worst of the -game." - -Thus, after a day of unclouded triumph, did Mr. Blarden compose himself -to light and happy slumbers. - - - - -CHAPTER XL. - -DREAMS--FIRST IMPRESSIONS--THE MAN IN THE PLUM-COLOURED SUIT. - - -The sun shone cheerily through the casement of the quaint and pretty -little chamber which called Mary Ashwoode its mistress. It was a fresh -and sunny autumn morning; the last leaves rustled on the boughs, and -the thrush and blackbird sang their merry morning lays. Mary sat by the -window, looking sadly forth upon the slopes and woods which caught the -slanting beams of the ruddy sun. - -"I have passed, indeed, a very troubled night--I have been haunted with -strange and fearful dreams. I feel very sorrowful and uneasy--indeed, -indeed I do, Carey." - -"It's only the vapours, my lady," replied the maid; "a glass of -orange-flower water and camphor is the sovereignest thing in the world -for them." - -"Indeed, Carey," continued the young lady, still gazing sadly from the -casement, "I know not why it is so--a foolish dream, wild and most -extravagant, yet still it will not leave me. I cannot shake off this -fear and depression. I will run down stairs and talk with my dear -brother--that may cheer me." - -She arose, ran lightly down the stairs, and entered the parlour. The -first object that met her gaze, standing full before her, was a large -and singularly ill-looking man, arrayed in a suit of plum-coloured -cloth, richly laced. It was Nicholas Blarden. With a vulgar swagger, -half abashed and half impudent, the fellow acknowledged her entrance by -retreating a little and making an awkward bow, while a smile and a -leer, more calculated to frighten than to attract, lighted his coarse -and swollen features. The girl looked at this object with a startled -air, she felt that she had seen that sinister face before, but where or -when--whether waking or in a dream, she strove in vain to remember. - -"I say, Ashwoode, where's your manners?" said Blarden, turning angrily -towards the young baronet, who was scarcely less confounded at her -sudden entrance than was the girl herself. "What do you stand gaping -there for? Don't you see the young lady wants to know who I am?" - -Blarden followed this vehement exhortation with a look which at once -recalled Ashwoode to his senses. - -"Mary," said he, approaching, "this is my particular friend, Mr. -Nicholas Blarden. Mr. Blarden, my sister, Miss Mary Ashwoode." - -"Your most obedient humble servant, Mistress Mary," said Blarden, with -a gallant air. "Wonderful beautiful weather; d---- me, but it's like -the middle of summer. I'm just going out to take a bit of a tramp among -the bushes and lead goddesses," he added, not feeling, spite of all his -effrontery, quite at his ease in the presence of the elegant and -high-born girl; and, more confounded and abashed by the simple dignity -of her artless nature than he ever remembered to have been before, -under any circumstances whatever, he made his exit from the chamber. - -"Who is that man?" said the girl, drawing close to her brother's side, -and clinging timidly to his arm. "His face is familiar to me--I have -seen or dreamed of it before; it has been before me either in some -troubled scene or dream. I feel frightened and oppressed when he is -near me. Who is he, brother?" - -"Pshaw! nonsense, girl," said her brother, in vain attempting to appear -unconstrained and at his ease; "he is a very good, honest fellow, not, -as you see, the most polished in the world, but in essentials an -excellent fellow; you'll easily get over your antipathy--his oddity of -manner and appearance is soon forgotten, and in all other points he is -an admirable fellow. Pshaw! you have too much sense to hate a man for -his face and manner." - -"I do not hate him, brother," said Mary, "how could I? The man has -never wronged me; but there is something in his eye, in his air and -expression, in his whole appearance, sinister and terrible--something -which oppresses and terrifies me. I can scarcely move or breathe in his -presence. I only hope that I may never meet him so near again." - -"Your hope is not likely to be realized, then," replied Ashwoode, -abruptly, "he makes a stay here of a week, or perhaps more." - -A silence followed, during which he revolved the expediency of hinting -at once at the designs of Blarden. As he thus paused, moodily plotting -how best to open the subject, the unconscious girl stood beside him, -and, looking fondly in his face, she said,-- - -"Dear brother, you must not be so sad. When all's done, what have we -lost but some of the wealth which we can spare? We have still enough, -quite enough. You shall live with your poor little sister, and I will -take care of you, and read to you, and sing to you whenever you are -sad; and we will walk together in the old green woods, and be far -happier and merrier than ever we could have been in the midst of cold -and heartless luxury and dissipation. Brother, dear brother, when shall -we go to Incharden?" - -"I can't say; I--I don't know that we shall go there at all," replied -he, shortly. - -Deep disappointment clouded the poor girl's face for a moment, but as -instantly the sweet smile returned, and she laid her hand -affectionately upon her brother's shoulder, and looked in his face. - -"Well, dear brother, wherever you go, there is _my_ home, and there I -will be happy--as happy as being with the only creature that cares for -me now can make me." - -"Perhaps there are others who care for you--ay--even more than I do," -said the young man deliberately, and fixing his eyes upon her -searchingly, as he spoke. - -"How, brother; what do you mean?" said the poor girl, faintly, and -turning pale as death. "Have you seen--have you heard from----" She -paused, trembling violently, and Ashwoode resumed,-- - -"No, no, child; I have neither seen nor heard from anyone whom you know -anything of. Why are you so agitated? Pshaw! nonsense." - -"I know not how it is, brother; I am depressed, and easily agitated -to-day," rejoined she; "perhaps it is that I cannot forget a fearful -dream which troubled me last night." - -"Tut, tut, child," replied he; "I thought you had other matters to -think of." - -"And so I have, God knows, dear brother," resumed she--"so I have; but -this dream haunted me long, and haunts me still; it was about you. I -dreamed that we were walking, lovingly, hand in hand, among the shady -walks in this old place; when, on a sudden, a great savage dog--just -like the old blood-hound you had shot last summer--came, with open jaws -and all its fangs exposed, springing towards us. I threw myself, -terrified, into your arms, but you grasped me, with iron strength, and -held me forth toward the frightful animal. I saw your face; it was -changed and horrible. I struggled--I screamed--and awakened, gasping -with afright." - -"A silly, unmeaning dream," said Ashwoode, slightly changing colour, -and turning from her. "You're not such a child, surely, as to let -_that_ trouble you." - -"No, indeed, brother," replied she, "I do not suffer it to trouble my -mind; but it has fastened somehow upon my imagination, and spite of all -I can do, the impression remains---- There--there--see that horrible -man staring in at us, from behind the evergreens," she added, glancing -at a large, tufted laurel, which partially screened the unprepossessing -form of Nicholas Blarden, who was intently watching the youthful pair -as they conversed. Perhaps conscious that he had been observed, he -quitted his lurking-place, and plunged deeper into the thick screen of -foliage. - -"Dear Henry," said she, turning imploringly toward her brother, "there -is something about that man which frightens me; my heart sickens -whenever I see him. I feel like some poor bird under the eye of a hawk. -I do not feel safe when he is looking at me; there is some evil -influence in his gaze--something bad, satanic, in his look and -presence; I dread him instinctively. For God's sake, dear, dear -brother, do not keep company with him--he will harm you--it cannot lead -to good." - -"This is mere folly--downright raving," said Ashwoode, vehemently, but -with an uneasiness which he could not conceal. "He is my guest, and -will remain so for some weeks. I must be civil to him--_both_ of us -must." - -"Surely, dear brother--after all I have said--you will not ask me to -associate with him during his stay, since stay he must," urged Mary. - -"We ought not to consult our whims at the expense of civility," -retorted the baronet, drily. - -"But surely my presence is not required," urged she. - -"You cannot tell how that may be," replied Ashwoode, abruptly, and then -added, abstractedly, as he walked slowly towards the door: "We often -speak, we know not what; we often stand, we know not where--necessity, -fate, destiny--whatever is, _must_ be. Let this be our philosophy, -Mary." - -Wholly at a loss to comprehend this incoherent speech, his sister -remained silent for some minutes. - -"Well, child, how say you?" exclaimed Ashwoode, turning suddenly round. - -"Dear brother," said she, "I would fain not meet that man any more -while he remains here. You will not ask me to come down." - -"A truce to this folly," exclaimed Ashwoode, with loud and sudden -emphasis. "You must--you _must_, I say, appear at breakfast, at dinner, -and at supper. You must see Blarden, and talk with him--he's _my_ -friend--you _must_ know him." Then checking himself, he added, in a -less vehement tone--"Mary, don't _act_ like a fool--you _are_ none: -these silly fancies must not be indulged--remember, he's _my_ friend. -There, there, be a good girl--no more folly." - -He came over, patted her cheek, and then turned abruptly from her, and -left the room. His parting caress, however, was not sufficient to -obliterate the painful impression which his momentary violence had -left, for in that brief space of angry excitement his countenance had -worn the self-same sinister expression which had appalled her in her -last night's dream. - - - - -CHAPTER XLI. - -OF O'CONNOR AND A CERTAIN TRAVELLING ECCLESIASTIC--AND HOW THE DARKNESS -OVERTOOK THEM. - - -It has become necessary, in order to a clear and chronologically -arranged exposition of events to return for a little while to our -melancholy young friend, Edmond O'Connor, who, with his faithful -squire, Larry Toole, following in close attendance upon his progress, -was now returning from a last visit to the poor fragment of his -patrimony, the wreck of his father's fortunes, and which consisted of a -few hundred acres of wild woodland, surrounding a small square tower -half gone to decay, and bidding fair to become in a few years a mere -roofless ruin. He had seen the few retainers of his family who still -remained, and bidden them a last farewell, and was now far in his -second day's leisurely journey toward the city of Dublin. - -The sun was fast declining among the rich and glowing clouds of an -autumnal evening, and pouring its melancholy lustre upon the woods and -the old towers of Leixlip, as the young man rode into that ancient -town. How different were his present feelings from those with which he -had last traversed the quiet little village--then his bright hopes and -cheery fancies had tinged every object he looked on with their own warm -and happy colouring; but now, alas! how mournful the reverse. With the -sweet illusions he had so fondly cherished had vanished all the charm -of all he saw; the scene was disenchanted now, and all seemed coloured -in the sombre and chastened hues of his own deep melancholy; the river, -with all its brawling falls and windings, filled his ear with plaintive -harmonies, and all its dancing foam-bells, that chased one another down -its broad eddies, glancing in the dim, discoloured light of the evening -sun, seemed but so many images of the wayward courses and light -illusions of human hope; even the old ivy-mantled towers, as he looked -upon their time-worn front, seemed to have suffered a century's decay -since last he beheld them; every scene that met his eye, and every -sound that floated to his ear on the still air of evening, was alike -charged with sadness. - -At a slow pace, and with a heart oppressed, he passed the little town, -and soon its trees, and humble roofs, and blue curling smoke were left -far behind him. He had proceeded more than a mile when the sun -descended, and the dusky twilight began to deepen. He spurred his -horse, and at a rate more suited to the limited duration of the little -light which remained, he rode at a sharp trot along the uneven way -toward Dublin. He had not proceeded far at this rate when he overtook a -gentleman on horseback, who was listlessly walking his steed in the -same direction, and who, on seeing a cavalier thus wending his way on -the same route, either with a view to secure good company upon the -road, or for some other less obvious purpose, spurred on also, and took -his place by the side of our young friend. O'Connor looked upon his -uninvited companion with a jealous eye, for his night adventure of a -few months since was forcibly recalled to his memory by the -circumstances of his present situation. The person who rode by his side -was, as well as he could descry, a tall, lank man, with a hooked nose, -heavy brows, and sallow complexion, having something grim and ascetic -in the character of his face. After turning slightly twice or thrice -towards O'Connor, as if doubtful whether to address him, the stranger -at length accosted the young man. - -"A fair evening this, sir," said he, "and just cool enough to make a -brisk ride pleasant." - -O'Connor assented drily, and without waiting for a renewal of the -conversation, spurred his horse into a canter, with the intention of -leaving his new companion behind. That personage was not, however, so -easily to be shaken off; he, in turn, put his horse to precisely the -same pace, and remarked composedly,-- - -"I see, sir, you wish to make the most of the light we've left us; dark -riding, they say, is dangerous riding hereabout. I suppose you ride for -the city?" - -O'Connor made no answer. - -"I presume you make Dublin your halting-place?" repeated the man. - -"You are at liberty, sir," replied O'Connor, somewhat sharply, "to -presume what you please; I have good reasons, however, for not caring -to bandy words with strangers. Where I rest for the night cannot -concern anybody but myself." - -"No offence, sir--no offence meant," replied the man, in the same even -tone, "and I hope none taken." - -A silence of some minutes ensued, during which O'Connor suddenly -slackened his horse's pace to a walk. The stranger made a corresponding -alteration in that of his. - -"Your pace, sir, is mine," observed the stranger. "We may as well -breathe our beasts a little." - -Another pause followed, which was at length broken by the stranger's -observing,-- - -"A lucky chance, in truth. A comrade is an important acquisition in -such a ride as ours promises to be." - -"I already have one of my own choosing," replied O'Connor drily; "I -ride attended." - -"And so do I," continued the other, "and doubtless our trusty squires -are just as happy in the rencounter as are their masters." - -A considerable silence ensued, which at length was broken by the -stranger. - -"Your reserve, sir," said he, "as well as the hour at which you travel, -leads me to conjecture that we are both bound on the same errand. Am I -understood?" - -"You must speak more plainly if you would be so," replied O'Connor. - -"Well, then," resumed he, "I half believe that we shall meet -to-night--where it is no sin to speak loyalty." - -"Still, sir, you leave me in the dark as to your meaning," replied -O'Connor. - -"At a certain well of sweet water," said the man with deliberate -significance--"is it not so--eh--am I right?" - -"No, sir," replied O'Connor, "your sagacity is at fault; or else, it -may be, your wit is too subtle, or mine too dull; for, if your -conjectures be correct, I cannot comprehend your meaning--nor indeed is -it very important that I should." - -"Well, sir," replied he, "I am seldom wrong when I hazard a guess of -this kind; but no matter--if we meet we shall be better friends, I -promise you." - -They had now reached the little town of Chapelizod, and darkness had -closed in. At the door of a hovel, from which streamed a strong red -light, the stranger drew his bridle, and called for a cup of water. A -ragged urchin brought it forth. - -"_Pax Domini vobiscum_," said the stranger, restoring the vessel, and -looking upward steadfastly for a minute, as if in mental prayer, he -raised his hat, and in doing so exhibited the monkish tonsure upon his -head; and as he sate there motionless upon his horse, with his sable -cloak wrapped in ample folds about him, and the strong red light from -the hovel door falling upon his thin and well-marked features, bringing -into strong relief the prominences of his form and attire, and shining -full upon the drooping head of the tired steed which he bestrode--this -equestrian figure might have furnished no unworthy study for the pencil -of Schalken. - -In a few minutes they were again riding side by side along the street -of the straggling little town. - -"I perceive, sir," said O'Connor, "that you are a clergyman. Unless -this dim light deceives me, I saw the tonsure when you raised your hat -just now." - -"Your eyes deceived you not--I am one of a religious order," replied -the man, "and perchance not on that account a more acceptable companion -to you." - -"Indeed you wrong me, reverend sir," said O'Connor. "I owe you an -apology for receiving your advances as I have done; but experience has -taught me caution; and until I know something of those whom I encounter -on the highway, I hold with them as little communication as I can well -avoid. So far from being the less acceptable a companion to me by -reason of your sacred office, believe me, you need no better -recommendation. I am myself an humble child of the true Church; and her -ministers have never claimed respect from me in vain." - -The priest looked searchingly at the young man; but the light afforded -but an imperfect scrutiny. - -"You say, sir," rejoined he after a pause, "that you acknowledge our -father of Rome--that you are one of those who eschew heresy, and cling -constantly to the old true faith--that you are free from the mortal -taint of Protestant infidelity." - -"That do I with my whole heart," rejoined O'Connor. - -"Are you, moreover, one of those who still look with a holy confidence -to the return of better days? When the present order of things, this -usurped government and abused authority, shall pass away like a dark -dream, and fly before the glory of returning truth. Do you look for the -restoration of the royal heritage to its rightful owner, and of these -afflicted countries to the bosom of mother Church?" - -"Happy were I to see these things accomplished," rejoined O'Connor; -"but I hold their achievement, except by the intervention of Almighty -Providence, impossible. Methinks we have in Ireland neither the spirit -nor the power to do it. The people are heartbroken; and so far from -coming to the field in this quarrel, they dare not even speak of it -above their breath." - -"Young man, you speak as one without understanding. You know not this -people of Ireland of whom you speak. Believe me, sir, the spirit to -right these things is deep and strong in the bosoms of the people. What -though they do not cry aloud in agony for vengeance, are they therefore -content, and at their heart's ease? - - "'Quamvis tacet Hermogenes, cantor tamen atque, - Optimus est modulator.' - -"Their silence is not dumbness--you shall hear them speak plainly yet." - -"Well, it may be so," rejoined O'Connor; "but be the people ever so -willing, another difficulty arises--where are the men to lead them -on?--who are they?" - -The priest again looked quickly and suspiciously at the speaker; but -the gloom prevented his discerning the features of his companion. He -became silent--perhaps half-repenting his momentary candour, and rode -slowly forward by O'Connor's side, until they had reached the extremity -of the town. The priest then abruptly said,-- - -"I find, sir, I have been wrong in my conjecture. Our paths at this -point diverge, I believe. You pursue your way by the river's side, and -I take mine to the left. Do not follow me. If you be what you represent -yourself, my command will be sufficient to prevent your doing so; if -otherwise, I ride armed, and can enforce what I conceive necessary to -my safety. Farewell." - -And so saying, the priest turned his horse's head in the direction -which he had intimated, rode up the steep ascent which loomed over the -narrow level by the river's side; and his dark form quickly disappeared -beyond the brow of the dusky hill. O'Connor's eyes instinctively -followed the retreating figure of his companion, until it was lost in -the profound darkness; and then looking back for any dim intimation of -the presence of his trusty follower, he beheld nothing but the dark -void. He listened; but no sound of horse's hoofs betokened pursuit. He -shouted--he called upon his squire by name; but all in vain; and at -length, after straining his voice to its utmost pitch for six or ten -minutes without eliciting any other reply than the prolonged barking of -half the village curs in Chapelizod, he turned away, and pursued his -course alone, consoling himself with the reflection that his attendant -was at least as well acquainted with the way as was he himself, and -that he could not fail to reach the "Cock and Anchor" whenever he -pleased to exert himself for the purpose. - - - - -CHAPTER XLII. - -THE SQUIRES. - - -O'Connor had scarcely been joined by the priest, when Larry Toole, who -jogged quietly on, pipe in mouth, behind his master, was accosted by -his reverence's servant, a stout, clean-limbed fellow, arrayed in blue -frieze, who rode a large, ill-made horse, and bumped listlessly along -at that easy swinging jog at which our southern farmers are wont to -ride. The fellow had a shrewd eye, and a pleasant countenance withal to -look upon, and might be in years some five or six and thirty. - -"God save you, neighbour," said he. - -"God save you kindly," rejoined Mr. Toole graciously. - -"A plisint evenin' for a quiet bit iv a smoke," rejoined the stranger. - -"None better," rejoined Larry, scanning the stranger's proportions, to -see whether, in his own phrase, "he liked his cut." The scrutiny -evidently resulted favourably, for Larry removed his pipe, and handing -it to his new acquaintance, observed courteously, "Maybe you'd take a -draw, neighbour." - -"I thank you kindly," said the stranger, as he transferred the utensil -from Larry's mouth to his own. "It's turning cowld, I think. I wish to -the Lord we had a dhrop iv something to warm us," observed he, speaking -out of the unoccupied corner of his mouth. - -"We'll be in Chapelizod, plase God," said Larry Toole, "in half an -hour, an' if ould Tim Delany isn't gone undher the daisies, maybe we -won't have a taste iv his best." - -"Are _you_ follyin' that gintleman?" inquired the stranger, with his -pipe indicating O'Connor, "that gintleman that the masther is talking -to?" - -"I am _so_," rejoined Larry promptly, "an' a good gintleman he is; an' -that's your masther there. What sort is he?" - -"Oh, good enough, as masthers goes--no way surprisin' one way or th' -other." - -"Where are you goin' to?" pursued Larry. - -"I never axed, bedad," rejoined the man, "only to folly on, wherever he -goes--an' divil a hair I care where that is. What way are you two -goin'?" - -"To Dublin, to be sure," rejoined Larry. "I wisht we wor there now. -What the divil makes him ride so unaiqual--sometimes cantherin', and -other times mostly walkin'--it's mighty nansinsical, so it is." - -"By gorra, I don't know, anless fancy alone," rejoined the stranger. - -"Here's your pipe," continued he, after some pause, "an' I thank you -kindly, misther--misther--how's this they call you?" - -"Misther Larry Toole is the name I was christened by," rejoined the -gentleman so interrogated. - -"An' a rale illegant name it is," replied the stranger. "The Tooles is -a royal family, an' may the Lord restore them to their rights." - -"Amen, bedad," rejoined Larry devoutly. - -"My name's Ned Mollowney," continued he, anticipating Larry's -interrogatory, "from the town of Ballydun, the plisintest spot in the -beautiful county iv Tipperary. There isn't it's aquil out for fine men -and purty girls." Larry sighed. - -The conversation then took that romantic turn which best suited the -melancholy chivalry of Larry's mind, after which the current of their -mutual discoursing, by the attraction of irresistible association, led -them, as they approached the little village, once more into suggestive -commentaries upon the bitter cold, and sundry pleasant speculations -respecting the creature comforts which awaited them under Tim Delany's -genial roof-tree. - -"The holy saints be praised," said Ned Mollowney, "we're in the village -at last. The tellin' iv stories is the dhryest work that ever a boy -tuck in hand. My mouth is like a cindher all as one." - -"Tim Delany's is the second house beyant that wind in the street," said -Larry, pointing down the road as they advanced. "We'll jist get down -for a minute or two, an' have somethin' warrum by the fire; we'll -overtake the gintlemen asy enough." - -"I'm agreeable, Mr. Toole," said the accommodating Ned Mollowney. "Let -the gintlemen take care iv themselves. They're come to an age when they -ought to know what they're about." - -"This is it," said Larry, checking his horse before a low thatched -house, from whose doorway the cheerful light was gleaming upon the -bushes opposite. - -The two worthies dismounted, and entered the humble place of -entertainment. Tim Delany's company was singularly fascinating, and his -liquor was, if possible, more so--besides, the evening was chill, and -his hearth blazed with a fire, the very sight of which made the blood -circulate freely, and the finger-tops grow warm. Larry Toole was -prepossessed in favour of Ned Mollowney, and Ned Mollowney had fallen -in love with Larry Toole, so that it is hardly to be wondered at that -the two gentlemen yielded to the combined seduction of their situation, -and seated themselves snugly by the fire, each with his due allowance -of stimulating liquor, and with a very vague and uncertain kind of -belief in the likelihood of their following their masters respectively -until they had made themselves particularly comfortable. It was not -until after nearly two hours of blissful communion with his delectable -companion, that Larry Toole suddenly bethought him of the fact that he -had allowed his master, at the lowest calculation, time enough to have -ridden to and from the "Cock and Anchor" at least half a dozen times. -He, therefore, hurriedly bade good-night, with many a fond vow of -eternal friendship for the two companions of his princely revelry, -mounted his horse with some little difficulty, and becoming every -moment more and more confused, and less and less perpendicular, found -himself at length--with an indistinct remembrance of having had several -hundred falls upon every possible part of his body, and upon every -possible geological substance, from soft alluvial mud up to plain -lime-stone, during the course of his progress--within the brick -precincts of the city. The horse, with an instinctive contempt for Mr. -Toole's judgment, wholly disregarded that gentleman's vehement appeals -to the bridle, and quietly pursued his well-known way to the hostelry -of the "Cock and Anchor." - -Our honest friend had hardly dismounted, which he did with one eye -closed, and a hiccough, and a happy smile which mournfully contrasted -with his filthy and battered condition, when he at once became -absolutely insensible, from which condition he did not recover till -next morning, when he found himself partially in bed, quite undressed, -with the exception of his breeches, boots, and spurs, which he had -forgotten to remove, and which latter, along with his feet, he had -deposited upon the pillow, allowing his head to slope gently downward -towards the foot of the bed. - -As soon as Mr. Toole had ascertained where he was, and begun to -recollect how he came there, he removed his legs from the pillow, and -softly slid upon the floor. His first solicitude was for his clothes, -the spattered and villainous condition of which appalled him; his next -was to endeavour to remember whether or not his master had witnessed -his weakness. Absorbed in this severe effort of memory, he sat upon the -bedside, gazing upon the floor, and scratching his head, when the door -opened, and his friend the groom entered the chamber. - -"I say, old gentleman, you've been having a little bit of a spree," -observed he, gazing pleasantly upon the disconsolate figure of the -little man, who sat in his shirt and jack-boots, staring at him with a -woe-begone and bewildered air. "Why, you had a bushel of mud about your -body when you came in, and no hat at all. Well, you _had_ a pleasant -night of it--there's no denying that." - -"No hat;" said Larry desolately. "It isn't possible I dropped my hat -off my head unknownest. Bloody wars, my hat! is it gone in airnest?" - -"Yes, young gentleman, you came here bareheaded. The hat _is_ gone, and -that's a fact," replied the groom. - -"I thought my coat was bad enough; but--oh! blur-anagers, my hat!" -ejaculated Larry with abandonment. "Bad luck go with the -liquor--tare-an-ouns, my hat!" - -"There's a shoe off the horse," observed the groom; "and the seat is -gone out of your breeches as clean as if it never was in it. Well, but -you _had_ a pleasant evening of it--you had." - -"An' my breeches desthroyed--ruined beyant cure! See, Tom Berry, take a -blundherbuz, will you, and put me out of pain at wonst. My breeches! -Oh, divil go with the liquor! Holy Moses, is it possible?--my -breeches!" - -In an agony of contrition and desperate remorse, Larry Toole clasped -his hands over his eyes and remained for some minutes silent; at length -he said-- - -"An' what did the masther say? Don't be keeping me in pain--out with it -at wonst." - -"What master?" inquired the groom. - -"What masther?" echoed Mr. Toole--"why Mr. O'Connor, to be sure." - -"I'm sure I can't say," replied the man; "I have not seen him this -month." - -"Wasn't he here before me last night?" inquired the little man. - -"No, nor after neither," replied his visitor. - -"Do you mane to tell me that he's not in the house at all?" -interrogated Mr. Toole. - -"Yes," replied he, "Mr. O'Connor is _not_ in the house; the horse did -not cross the yard this month. Will that do you?" - -"Be the hoky," said Larry, "that's exthramely quare. But are you raly -sure and quite sartin?" - -"Yes, I tell you yes," replied he. - -"Well, well," said Mr. Toole, "but that puts me to the divil's rounds -to undherstand it--not come at all. What in the world's gone with -him--not come--where else could he go to? Begorra, the whole iv the -occurrences iv last night is a blaggard mysthery. What the divil's gone -with him--where is he at all?--why couldn't he wait a bit for me an' -I'd iv tuck the best care iv him? but gintlemen is always anruly. What -the divil's keepin' him? I wouldn't be surprised if he made a baste iv -himself in some public-house last night. A man ought never to take a -dhrop more than jist what makes him plisant--bad luck to it. Lend me a -breeches, an' I'll pray for you all the rest of my days. I must go out -at wonst an' look for him; maybe he's at Mr. Audley's lodgings--ay, -sure enough, it's there he is. Bad luck to the liquor. Why the divil -did I let him go alone? Oh! sweet bad luck to it," he continued in -fierce anguish, as he held up the muddy wreck of his favourite coat -before his aching eyes--"my elegant coat--bad luck to it again--an' my -beautiful hat--once more bad luck to it; an' my breeches--oh! it's -fairly past bearin'--my elegant breeches! Bad luck to it for a -threacherous drop--an' the masther lost, and no one knows what's done -with him. Up with that poker, I tell you, and blow my brains out at -once; there's nothing before me in this life but the divil's own -delight--finish me, I tell you, and let me rest in the shade. I'll -never hould up my head again, there's no use in purtendin'. Oh! bad -luck to the dhrink!" - -In this distracted frame of mind did Larry continue for nearly an hour, -after which, with the aid of some contributions from the wardrobe of -honest Tom Berry, he clothed himself, and went forth in quest of his -master. - - - - -CHAPTER XLIII. - -THE WILD WOOD--THE OLD MANSION-HOUSE OF FINISKEA--SECRETS, AND A -SURPRISE. - - -O'Connor pursued his way towards the city, following the broken -horse-track, which then traversed the low grounds which lie upon the -left bank of the Liffey. The Phoenix Park, or, as it was then called, -the Royal Park, was at the time of which we write a much wilder place -than it now is. There were no trim plantations nor stately clumps of -tufted trees, no signs of care or culture. Broad patches of shaggy -thorn spread with little interruption over the grounds, and regular -roads were then unknown. The darkness became momentarily deeper and -more deep as O'Connor pursued his solitary way; and the difficulty of -proceeding grew every instant greater, for the heavy rains had -interrupted his path with deep sloughs and pools, which became at -length so frequent, and so difficult of passage, that he was fain to -turn from the ordinary track, and seek an easier path along the high -grounds which overhang the river. The close screen of the wild gnarled -thorns which covered the upper level on which he now moved, still -further deepened the darkness; and he became at length so entirely -involved in the pitchy gloom, that he dismounted, and taking his horse -by the head, led him forward through the tangled brake, and under the -knotted branches of the old hoary thorns, stumbling among the briers -and the crooked roots, and every moment encountering the sudden -obstruction, either of some stooping branch, or the trunk of one of the -old trees; so that altogether his progress was as tedious and -unpleasant as it well could be. His annoyance became the greater as he -proceeded; for he was so often compelled to turn aside, and change his -course, to avoid these interruptions, that in the utter darkness he -began to grow entirely uncertain whether or not he was moving in the -right direction. The more he paused, and the oftener he reflected, the -more entirely puzzled and bewildered did he become. Glad indeed would -he have been that he had followed the track upon which he had at first -entered, and run the hazard of all the sloughs and pools which crossed -it; but he was now embarked in another route; and even had he desired -it, so perplexed was he, that he could not have effected his retreat. -Fully alive to the ridiculousness, as well as the annoyance of his -situation, he slowly and painfully stumbled forward, conscious that if -only he could move for half an hour or thereabout consistently in the -same direction, he must disengage himself in some quarter or another -from the entanglement in which he was involved. In vain he looked round -him; nothing but entire darkness encountered him. In vain he listened -for any sound which might intimate the neighbourhood of any living -thing. Nothing but the hushed soughing of the evening breeze through -the old boughs was audible; and he was forced to continue his route in -the same troublesome uncertainty. - -At length he saw, or thought he saw, a red light gleaming through the -trees. It disappeared--it came again. He stopped, uncertain whether it -was one of those fitful marsh-fires which but mock the perplexity of -benighted travellers; but no--this light shone clearly, and with a -steady beam, through the branches; and towards it he directed his -steps, losing it now, and again recovering it, till at length, after a -longer probation than he had at first expected, he gained a clear space -of ground, intersected only by a few broken hedges and ditches, but -free from the close wood which had so entirely darkened his advance. In -this position he was enabled to discern that the light which had guided -him streamed from the window of an old shattered house, partially -surrounded by a dilapidated wall, having a few ruinous outhouses -attached to it. In this building he beheld the old mansion-house of -Finiskea, which then occupied the ground on which at present stands the -powder-magazine, and which, by a slight alteration in sound, though -without any analogy in meaning, has given its name to the Phoenix Park. -The light streamed through the diamond panes of a narrow casement; and -still leading his horse, O'Connor made his way over the broken fences -towards the old house. As he approached, he perceived several figures -moving to and fro in the chamber from which the light issued, and -detected, or thought he did so, among them the remarkable form of the -priest who had lately been his companion upon the road. As he advanced, -someone inside drew a curtain across the window, though, as O'Connor -conjectured, wholly unaware of his approach, and thus precluded any -further reconnoitering on his part. - -"At all events," thought he, "they can spare me some one to put me upon -my way. They can hardly complain if I intrude upon such an errand." - -With this reflection, he led his horse round the corner of the building -to the door, which was sheltered by a small porch roofed with tiles. By -the faint light, which in the open space made objects partially -discernible, he perceived two men, as it appeared to him, fast -asleep--half sitting and half lying on the low step of the door. He had -just come near enough to accost them, when, somewhat to his surprise, -he was seized from behind in a powerful grip, and his arms pinioned to -his sides. A single antagonist he would easily have shaken off; but a -reinforcement was at hand. - -"Up, boys--be stirring--open the door," cried the hoarse voice of the -person who held O'Connor. - -The two figures started to their feet; their strength, combined with -the efforts of his first assailant, effectually mastered O'Connor, and -one of them shoved the door open. - -"Pretty watch you keep," said he, as the party hurried their prisoner, -wholly without the power of resistance, into the house. - -Three or four powerful, large-limbed fellows, well armed, were seated -in the hall, and arose on his entrance. O'Connor saw that resistance -against such odds were idle, and resolved patiently to submit to the -issue, whatever it might be. - -"Gentlemen that's caught peeping is sometimes made to see more than -they have a mind to," observed one of O'Connor's conductors. - -Another removed his sword, and having satisfied himself that he had not -any other weapon upon his person, observed,-- - -"You may let his elbows loose; but jist keep him tight by the collar." - -"Let the gentlemen know there's a bird limed," observed the first -speaker; and one of the others passed from the narrow hall to execute -the mission. - -After some little delay, O'Connor, who awaited the result with more of -curiosity and impatience than of alarm, was conducted by two of the -armed men who had secured him through a large passage terminating in a -chamber, which they also traversed, and by a second door at its far -extremity found entrance into a rude but spacious apartment, floored -with tiles, and with a low ceiling of dark plank, supported by -ponderous beams. A large wood fire burned in the hearth, beside which -some half dozen men were congregated; several others were seated by a -massive table, on which were writing materials, with which two or three -of them were busily employed; a number of open letters were also strewn -upon it, and here and there a brace of horse-pistols or a carbine -showed that the party felt neither very secure, nor very much disposed -to surrender without a struggle, should their worst anticipations be -realized, in any attempt to surprise them. - -Most of those who were present bore, in their disordered dress and -mud-soiled boots, the evidence of recent travel. They were lighted -chiefly by the broad, uncertain gleam of the blazing wood fire, in -which the misty flame of two or three wretched candles which burned -upon the table shone pale and dim as the last stars of night in the red -dawn of an autumnal sun. In this strong and ruddy light the groups of -figures, variously attired, some seated by the table, and others -standing with their ample cloaks still folded around them, acquired by -the contrast of broad light and shade a character of picturesqueness -which had in it something wild and imposing. This singular tableau -occupied the further end of the room, which was one of considerable -length, and as the prisoner was led forward to the bar of the tribunal, -those who composed it eyed him sternly and fixedly. - -"Bind his hands fast," said a lean and dark-featured man, with a -singularly forbidding aspect and a deep, stern voice, who sat at the -head of the table with a pile of papers beside him. Spite of O'Connor's -struggles, the order was speedily executed, and with such good-will -that the blood almost started from his nails. - -"Now, sir," continued the same speaker, "who are you, and what may your -errand be?" - -"Before I answer your questions you must satisfy me that you have -authority to ask them," replied O'Connor. "Who, I pray, are you, who -dare to seize the person, and to bind the limbs of a free man? I shall -know this ere one of your questions shall have a reply." - -"I have seen you, young sir, before--scarce an hour since," observed -one of those who stood by the hearth. "Look at me, and say do you -remember my features?" - -"I do," replied O'Connor, who had no difficulty in recognizing those of -the priest who had parted from him so abruptly on that evening--"of -course I recollect your face; we rode side by side from Leixlip -to-day." - -"You recollect my caution too--you cannot have forgotten that," -continued the priest, menacingly. "You know how peremptorily I warned -you against following me, yet you have dogged me here; on your own head -be the consequences--the fool shall perish in his folly." - -"I have _not_ dogged you here, sir," replied O'Connor; "I seek my way -to Dublin. The river banks are so soft that a horse had better swim -than seek to keep them; I therefore took the upper ground, and after -losing myself among the woods, at length saw a light, reached it, and -here I am." - -The priest heard the statement with a sinister smile. - -"A truce to these inventions, sir," said he. "It is indeed _possible_ -that you speak the truth, but it is in the highest degree _probable_ -that you lie; it is, in a word, plain--satisfactorily plain, that you -followed me hither, as I suspected you might have done; you have dogged -me, sir, and you have seen all that you sought to behold; you have seen -my place of destination and my company. I care not with what motive you -have acted--that is between yourself and your Maker. If you are a spy, -which I shrewdly suspect, Providence has defeated your treason, and -punished the traitor; if mere curiosity impelled you, you will remember -that ill-directed curiosity was the sin which brought death upon -mankind, and cease to wonder that its fruits may be bitter to yourself. -What say you, young man?" - -"I have told you plainly how I happened to reach this place," replied -O'Connor; "I have told you once--I will repeat the statement no more; -and once again I ask, on what authority you question me, and dare thus -to bind my hands and keep me here against my will?" - -"Authority sufficient to satisfy our own consciences," rejoined the -priest. "The responsibility rests not upon you; enough it is for you to -know that we have the power to detain you, and that we exercise that -power, as we most probably shall _another_, still less conducive to -your comfort." - -"You have the power to make me captive, I admit," rejoined -O'Connor--"you have the power to murder me, as you threaten, but though -power to keep or kill is all the justification a robber or a bravo -needs, methinks such an argument should hardly satisfy a consecrated -minister of Christ." - -The expression with which the priest regarded the young man grew -blacker and more truculent at this rebuke, and after a silence of a few -seconds he replied,-- - -"We are doubly authorized in what we do--ay, trebly warranted, young -traitor. God Almighty has given us the instinct of self-defence, which -in a righteous cause it is laudable to consult and indulge; the Church, -too, tells us in these times to deal strictly with the malignant -persecutors of God's truth; and lastly, we have a royal warranty--the -authority of the rightful king of these realms, investing us with -powers to deal summarily with rebels and traitors. Let this satisfy -you." - -"I honour the king," rejoined O'Connor, "as truly as any man here, -seeing that _my_ father lost all in the service of his illustrious -sire, but I need some more satisfactory assurance of his delegated -authority than the bare assertion of a violent man, of whom I know -absolutely nothing, and until you show me some instrument empowering -you to act thus, I will not acknowledge your competency to subject me -to an examination, and still resolutely protest against your detaining -me here." - -"You refuse, then, to answer our questions?" said the hard-featured -little person who sat at the far end of the table. - -"Until you show authority to put them, I peremptorily _do_ refuse to -answer them," replied the young man. - -The little person looked expressively at the priest, who appeared to -hold a high influence among the party. He answered the look by -saying,-- - -"His blood be upon his own head." - -"Nay, not so fast, holy father; let us debate upon this matter for a -few minutes, ere we execute sentence," said a singularly noble-looking -man who stood beside the priest. "Remove the prisoner," he added, with -a voice of command, "and keep him strictly guarded." - -"Well, be it so," said he, reluctantly. - -The little man who sat at the head of the table made a gesture to those -who guarded O'Connor, and the order thus given and sanctioned was at -once carried into execution. - - - - -CHAPTER XLIV. - -THE DOOM. - - -The young man was conveyed from the chamber by his two athletic -conductors, the door closed upon the deliberations of the stern -tribunal who were just about to debate upon the question of his life or -death, and he was led round the corner of a lobby, a few steps from the -chamber where his judges sat; a stout door in the wall was pushed open -and he himself thrust through it into a cold, empty apartment, in -perfect darkness, and the door shut and barred behind him. - -Here, in solitude and darkness, the horrors of his situation rushed -upon him with tremendous and overwhelming reality. His life was in the -hands of fierce and relentless men, by whom, he had little doubt, he -was already judged and condemned; bound and helpless, he must await, -without the power of hastening or of deferring his fate by a single -minute, the cold-blooded deliberations of the conclave who sat within. -Unable even to hear the progress of the debate on whose result his life -was suspended, a faint and dizzy sickness came upon him, and the cold -dew burst from every pore; ghastly, shapeless images of horror hurried -with sightless speed across his mind, and his brain throbbed with the -fearful excitement of madness. With a desperate effort he roused his -energies; but what could human ingenuity, even sharpened by the -presence of urgent and terrific danger, suggest or devise? His hands -were firmly bound behind his back; in vain he tugged with all his -strength, in the fruitless hope of disengaging the cords which crushed -them together. He groaned in downright agony as, strength and hope -exhausted, he gave up the desperate attempt; nothing then could be -done; there remained for him no hope--no chance. In this horrible -condition he walked with slow steps to and fro in the dark chamber, in -vain endeavouring to compose his terrible agitation. - -"Were my hands but free," thought he, "I should let the villains know -that against any odds a resolute man may sell his life dearly. But it -is in vain to struggle; they have bound me here but too securely." - - [Illustration: "He made his way to the aperture." - _To face page 223._] - -Thus saying, he leaned himself against the partition, to await, -passively, the event which he knew could not be far distant. The -surface against which he leaned was not that of the wall--it yielded -slightly to his pressure--it was a door. With his knee and shoulder he -easily forced it open, and entered another chamber, at the far-side of -which he distinctly saw a stream of light, which, passing through a -chink, fell upon the opposite wall, and, at the same time, he clearly -heard the muffled sound of voices in debate. He made his way to the -aperture through which the light found entrance, and as he did so, the -sound of the voices fell more and more distinctly upon his ear. A small -square, of about two feet each way, was cut in the wall, affording an -orifice through which, probably, the closet in which he stood was -imperfectly lighted in the daytime. A plank shutter was closed over -this, and barred upon the outside, through the imperfect joints of -which the light had found its way, and O'Connor now scanned the -contents of the outer chamber. It was that in which the assembly, in -whose presence he had, but a few minutes before, been standing, were -congregated. A low, broad-shouldered man, whose dress was that of -mourning, and who wore his own hair, which descended in meagre ringlets -of black upon either side, leaving the bald summit of his head exposed, -and who added to the singularity of his appearance not a little by a -long, thick beard, which covered his chin and upper lip--this man, who -sat nearly opposite to the opening through which O'Connor looked, was -speaking and addressing himself to some person who stood, as it -appeared, divided by little more than the thickness of the wall from -the party whose life he was debating. - -"And against all this," continued the speaker, "what weighs the life of -one man--one life, at best useless to the country, and useless to the -king--at _best_, I say? What came we here for? No light matter to take -in hand, sirs; to be pursued with no small risk; each comes hither, -_cinctus gladio_, in the cause of the king. That cause with our own -lives we are bound to maintain; and why not, if need be, at the cost of -the lives of others? No good can come of sparing this fellow--at the -best, no advantage to the cause: and, on the other hand, should he -prove a traitor, a spy, or even an idle babbler, the heaviest damage -may befall us. Tush, tush, gentlemen, it is ill straining at gnats in -such times. We are here a court-martial, or no court at all. If I find -that such dangerous vacillation as this carries it in your councils, I -shall, for one, henceforward hang my sword over the mantel-piece, and -obey the new laws. What! one life against such a risk--one execution, -to save the cause and secure us all. To us, who have served in the -king's wars, and hanged rebels by the round dozen--even on suspicion of -being so--such indecision seems incredible. There ought not to be two -words about the matter. Put him to death." - -Having thus acquitted himself, this somewhat unattractive personage -applied himself, with much industry and absorption, to the task of -chopping, shredding, rolling up, and otherwise preparing a piece of -tobacco for the bowl of his pipe. - -"I confess," said someone whom O'Connor could not see, "that in -pleading what may be said on behalf of this young man, I have no ground -to go upon beyond a mere instinctive belief in the poor fellow's -honesty, and in the truth of his story." - -"Pardon me, sir," replied one in whose voice O'Connor thought he -recognized that of the priest, "if I say, that to act upon such -fanciful impressions, as if they were grounded upon evidence, were, in -nine cases out of every ten, the most transcendent and mischievous -folly. I repeat my own conviction, upon something like satisfactory -evidence, that he is _not_ honest. I talked with the fellow this -evening--perhaps a little too freely--but in that conference, if he -lied not, I learned that he belonged to that most dangerous class--the -worst with whom we have to contend--the lukewarm, professing, passive -Catholics--the very stuff of which the worst kind of spies and -informers are made. He, no doubt, guessed, from what I said--for, to be -plain with you, I spoke too freely by a great deal, in the belief, I -know not how assumed, that he was one of ourselves--he guessed, I say, -something of the nature of my mission, and tracked me hither--at all -events, by some strange coincidence, hither he came. It is for you to -weigh the question of probabilities." - -"It matters not, in my mind, why or how he came hither," observed the -ill-favoured gentleman, who sate at the head of the table; "he _is_ -here, and he hath seen our meeting, and could identify many of us. This -is too large a confidence to repose in a stranger, and I for one do not -like it, and therefore I say let him be killed without any more parley -or debate." - -The old man paused, and a silence followed. With an agonized attention, -O'Connor listened for one word or movement of dissent; it came not. - -"All agreed?" said the bearded hero, preparing to light his tobacco -pipe at the candle. "Well, so I expected." - -The little man who had spoken before him knocked sharply with the butt -of a pistol upon the table, and O'Connor heard the door of the room -open. The same person beckoned with his hand, and one of the stalwart -men who had assisted in securing him, advanced to the foot of the -board. - -"Let a grave be digged in the orchard," said he, "and when it is ready, -bring the prisoner out and despatch him, Let it be all done and the -grave closed in half an hour." - -The man made a rude obeisance, and left the room in silence. - -Bound as he was, O'Connor traced the four walls of the room, in the -vague hope that he might discover some other outlet from the chamber -than that which he had just entered. But in vain; nothing encountered -him but the hard, cold wall; and even had it been otherwise, thus -helplessly manacled, what would it have availed him? He passed into the -room into which he had been first thrust by the two guards, and in a -state little short of frenzy, he cast himself upon the floor. - -"Oh God!" said he, "it is terrible to see death thus creeping toward -me, and not to have the power to help myself. I am doomed--my life -already devoted, and before another hour I shall lie under the clay, a -corpse. Is there nothing to be done--no hope, no chance? Oh, God! -nothing!" - -As he lay in this strong agony, he heard, or thought he heard, the -clank of the spade upon the stony soil without. The work was begun--the -grave was opened. Madly he strained at the cords--he tugged with more -than human might--but all in vain. Still with horrible monotony he -heard the clank of the iron mattock tinkling and clanking in the -gravelly soil. Oh! that he could have stopped his ears to exclude the -maddening sound. The pulses smote upon his brain like floods of fire. -With closed eyes, and teeth set, and hands desperately clenched, he -drew himself together, in the awful spasms of uncontrollable horror. -Suddenly this fearful paroxysm departed, and a kind of awful calm -supervened. It was no dull insensibility to his real situation, but a -certain collectedness and calm self-possession, which enabled him to -behold the grim adversary of human kind, even arrayed in all the -terrors of his nearest approach, with a steady eye. - -"After all, when all's done, what have I to lose? Life had no more joys -for me--happy I could never more have been. Why should the miserable -dread death, and cling to life like cowards? What is it? A brief -struggle--the agony of a few minutes--the instinctive yearnings of our -nature after life; and this over, comes rest--eternal quiet." - -He then endeavoured, in prayer, earnestly to commend his spirit to its -Maker. While thus employed he heard steps upon the hard tiles of the -passage. His heart swelled as though it would burst. He rightly guessed -their mission. The bolt was slowly drawn; the dusky light of a lantern -streamed into the room, and revealed upon the threshold the forms of -three tall men. - -"Lift him up--rise him, boys," said he who carried the lantern. - -"You must come with us," said one of the two who advanced to O'Connor. - -Resistance was fruitless, and he offered none. A cold, sick, -overwhelming horror unstrung his joints and dimmed his sight. He -suffered them to lead him passively from the room. - - - - -CHAPTER XLV. - -THE MAN IN THE CLOAK--AND HIS BED-CHAMBER. - - -As O'Connor approached the outer door through which he was to pass to -certain and speedy death, it were not easy to describe or analyze his -sensations; every object he beheld in the brief glance he cast around -him as he passed along the hall appeared invested with a strangely -sharp and vivid intensity of distinctness, and had in its aspect -something indefinably spectral and ghastly--like things beheld under -the terrific spell of a waking nightmare. His tremendous situation -seemed to him something unreal, incredible; he walked in an appalling -dream; in vain he strove to fix his thoughts myriads and myriads of -scenes and incidents, never remembered since childhood's days, now with -strange distinctness and wild rapidity whirled through his brain. The -hall-door stood half open, and the fellow who led the way had almost -reached it, when it was on a sudden thrown wide, and a figure, muffled -in a cloak, confronted the funeral procession. - -The foremost man raised the ponderous weapon which he carried, and held -it poised in the air, ready to shiver the head of the intruder should -he venture to advance--the two guards who held O'Connor halted at the -same time. - -"How's this, Cormack!" said the stranger. "Do you lift your weapon -against the life of a friend?--rub your eyes and waken--how is it you -cannot know me?--you've been drinking, sirrah." - -At the sound of the speaker's voice the man at once lowered his hatchet -and withdrew, a little sulkily, like a rebuked mastiff. - -"What means all this?" continued he in the cloak, looking searchingly -at the party in the rear; "whom have we got here?--where made you this -prisoner? So, so--this must be looked to. How were you about to deal -with him, fellow?" he added, addressing himself to him whom he had -first encountered. - -"According to orders, captain," replied the man, doggedly. - -"And how may that have been?" interrogated the gentleman in the cloak. - -"_End_ him," replied he, sulkily. - -"Has he been before the council in the great parlour?" inquired the -stranger. - -"Yes, captain--long enough, too," replied the fellow. - -"And _they_ have ordered this execution?" added the newly arrived. - -"Yes, sir--who else? Come on, boys--bring him out, will you? Time is -running short," he added, addressing his comrades, and himself -approaching the door. - -"Re-conduct the prisoner to the council-board," said the stranger, in a -tone of command. - -Without a moment's hesitation they obeyed the order; and O'Connor, -followed by the muffled figure of the stranger, for the second time -entered the apartment where his relentless judges sate. - -The new-comer strode up the room to the table at which the self-styled -council were seated. - -"God save you, gentlemen," said he, "and prosper the good work ye have -taken in hand;" and thus speaking, he removed and cast upon the table -his hat and cloak, thereby revealing the square-built form and harsh -features of O'Hanlon. - -O'Connor no sooner recognized the traits of his mysterious -acquaintance, than he felt a hope which thrilled with a strange agony -of his heart--a hope--almost a conviction--that he should escape; and -unaccountable though it may appear, in this hope he felt more unmanned -and agitated than he had done but a few moments before, in the apparent -certainty of immediate and inevitable destruction. - -The salutation of O'Hanlon was warmly, almost enthusiastically, -returned, and after this interchange of friendly greeting, and a few -brief questions and answers touching comparatively indifferent matters, -he glanced toward O'Connor, and said,-- - -"I've so far presumed upon my favour with you, gentlemen, as to stay -your orders in respect of that young gentleman, whom, it would appear, -you have judged worthy of death. Death is a matter whose importance -I've never very much insisted upon--that you know--at least, several -among you, gentlemen, well know it, for you have seen me deal it -somewhat unsparingly when the cause required it; but I profess I do not -care in cool blood to take life upon insufficient reason. Life is -lightly taken; but once gone, who can restore it? Therefore, I think it -very meet that patient consideration should be had of all cases, when -such deliberation is possible and convenient, before proceeding to the -last irrevocable extremity. Pray you inform me upon what charges does -this youth stand convicted, that his life should be forfeit?" - -"It is briefly told," replied the priest. "On my way hither I -encountered him; we rode and conversed together; and conjecturing that -he travelled on the same errand as myself, I talked to him more freely -than in all discretion I ought to have done. I discovered my mistake, -and at Chapelizod I turned and left him, telling him with threats _not_ -to follow me; yet scarcely had I been here ten minutes, when this -gentleman is found lurking near the house--and about to enter it. He is -seized, bound, brought in here, and witnesses our assembly and -proceedings. Under these suspicious circumstances, and with the -knowledge of our meeting and its objects, were it wise to let him go? -Surely not so--but the veriest madness." - -"Young man," said O'Hanlon, turning to O'Connor, "what say you to -this?" - -"No more than what I already told these gentlemen--simply, that taking -the upper level to avoid the sloughs by the river side, I became in the -darkness entangled in the dense woods which cover these grounds, and at -length, after groping my way through the trees as best I might, arrived -by the merest chance at this place, and without the slightest -knowledge, or even suspicion, either that I was following the course -taken by that gentleman, or intruding myself upon any secret councils. -I have no more to say--this is the simple truth." - -"Well, gentlemen," said O'Hanlon, "you hear the prisoner's defence. -What think you?" - -"We have decided already, and he has now produced nothing new in his -favour. I see no reason why we should alter our decision," replied the -priest. - -"You would, then, put him to death?" inquired he. - -"Assuredly," replied the priest, calmly. - -"But this shall not be, gentlemen; he shall _not_ die. You shall slay -_me_ first," replied O'Hanlon. "I know this youth; and every word he -has spoken I believe. He is the son of one who risked his life a -hundred times, and lost all for the sake of the king and his -country--one who, throughout the desperate and fruitless struggles of -Irish loyalty, was in the field my constant comrade, and a braver and a -better one none ever need desire. The son of such a man shall not -perish by our hands; and for the risk of his talking elsewhere of this -night's adventure, I will be his surety, with my life, that he mentions -it to no one, and nowhere." - -A silence of some seconds followed this unexpected declaration. - -"Be it so, then," said the priest; "for my part, I offer no -resistance." - -"So say I," added the person who sat with the papers by him at the -extremity of the board. "On you, however, Captain O'Hanlon, rest the -whole responsibility of this act." - -"On me alone. Were there the possibility of treason in that youth, I -would myself perish ere I should move a hand to save him," replied -O'Hanlon. "I gladly take upon myself the whole accountability, and all -the consequences of the act." - -"Your life and liberty are yours, sir," said the priest, addressing -O'Connor; "see that you abuse neither to our prejudice. Unbind and let -the prisoner go." - -"Stay," said O'Hanlon. "Mr. O'Connor, I have one request to make." - -"It is granted ere it is made. What can I return you in exchange for my -life?" replied O'Connor. - -"I wish to speak with you to-night," continued O'Hanlon, "on matters -which concern you nearly. You will remain here--you can have a chamber. -Farewell for the present. Conduct Mr. O'Connor to my apartment," he -added, addressing the attendants, who were employed in loosening the -strained cords which bound his hands; and with this direction, O'Hanlon -mingled with the group at the hearth, and began to converse with them -in a low voice. - -O'Connor followed his guide through a narrow, damp-stained corridor, -with tiled flooring, and up a broad staircase, with heavy oaken -balustrades, and steps whose planks seemed worn by the tread of -centuries; and then along another passage, more cheerless still than -the first--several of the narrow windows, by which in the daytime it -was lighted, had now lost every vestige of glass, and even of the -wooden framework in which it had been fixed, and gave free admission to -the fitful night-wind, as well as to the straggling boughs of ivy which -mantled the old walls and clustered shelteringly about the ruined -casements. Screening the candle which he carried behind the flap of his -coat, to prevent its being extinguished by the gusts which somewhat -rudely swept the narrow passage, the man led O'Connor to a chamber, -which they both entered. It was not quite so cheerless as the desolate -condition of the approach to it might have warranted one in expecting; -a wood-fire, which had been recently replenished, blazed and crackled -briskly upon the hearth, and shed an uncertain but cheerful glow -through the recesses of the chamber. It was a spacious apartment, hung -with stamped leather, in many places stained and rotted by the damp, -and here and there hanging in rags from the wall, and exposing the -bare, mildewed plaster beneath. The furniture was scanty, and in -keeping with the place--old, dark, and crazy; and a wretched bed, with -very spare covering, was, as it seemed, temporarily strewn upon the -floor, near the hearth. The man placed the candle upon a small table, -black with age, and patched and crutched up like a battered pensioner, -and flinging some more wood upon the fire, turned and left the room in -silence. - -Alone, his first employment was to review again and again the strange -events of that night; his next was to conjecture the nature of -O'Hanlon's promised communication. Baffled in these latter -speculations, he applied himself to examine the old chamber in which he -sat, and to endeavour to trace the half-obliterated pattern of the -tattered hangings. These occupations, along with sundry speculations -just as idle, touching the original of a grim old portrait, faded and -torn, which hung over the fireplace, filled up the tedious hours which -preceded his expected interview with his preserver. - -At length the weary interval elapsed, and the anxiously expected moment -arrived. The door opened, and O'Hanlon entered. He approached the young -man, who advanced to meet him, and extending his hand, grasped that of -O'Connor with a warm and friendly pressure. - - - - -CHAPTER XLVI. - -THE DOUBLE CONFERENCE--OLD PAPERS. - - -"When last I saw you," said O'Hanlon, seating himself before the -hearth, and motioning O'Connor to take a chair also, "I told you that -you ought to tame your rash young blood, and gave you thereupon an old -soldier's best advice. It seems, however, that you are wayward and -headlong still. Young soldiers look for danger--old ones are content to -meet it when it comes, knowing well that it will come often enough, -uninvited and unsought; nevertheless, we will pass by this night's -adventure, and turn to other matters. First, however, it were meet and -necessary that you should have somewhat to refresh you; you must needs -be weary and exhausted." - -"If you can give me some wine, it will be very welcome. I care not for -anything more to-night," replied O'Connor. - -"That can I," replied he, "and will myself do you reason." He arose, -and after a few minutes' absence entered with two flasks, whose dust -and cobwebs bespoke their antiquity, and filled two large, long-stemmed -glasses with the generous liquor. - -"Young man," said O'Hanlon, "from the moment I saw you in the inner -room yonder, I know not how or wherefore my heart clave to you; and now -knowing you for the son of my true friend, I feel for you the stronger -love. I will tell you now how matters stand with us. I will hide -nothing from you. I am old enough to have learned the last lesson of -experience--the folly of too much suspicion. I will not distrust the -son of Richard O'Connor. I need hardly tell you that those men whom you -saw below stairs are no friends of the ruling powers, but devoted -entirely to the service and the fortunes of the rightful heir of the -throne of England and of Ireland, met here together not without great -peril." - -"I had conjectured as much from what I myself witnessed," rejoined -O'Connor. - -"Well, then, I tell you this--the cause is not a hopeless one; the -exiled king has warm, zealous, and powerful friends where their -existence is least suspected," continued O'Hanlon. "In the Parliament -of England he has a strong and untiring party undetected--some of them, -too, must soon wield the enormous powers of government, and have -already gotten entire possession of the ear of the Queen; and so soon -as events invite, and the time is ripe for action, a mighty and a -sudden constitutional movement will be made in favour of the prince--a -movement entirely constitutional and in the Parliament. This will, -whether successful or not, raise the intolerant party here into fierce -resistance--the resistance of the firelock and the sword; all the -usurpers, the perjurers, and the plunderers who now possess the wealth -and dignities of this spoiled and oppressed country, will arise in -terror to defend their booty, and unless met and encountered, and -defeated by the party of the young king in this island, will embolden -the malignant rebels of the sister country to imitate their example, -and so overawe the Parliament, and frustrate their beneficent -intentions. To us, therefore, has fallen the humbler but important task -of organizing here, in the heart of this country, and in entire -secrecy, a power sufficient for the occasion. Fain would I have thee -along with us in so great and good a work, but will not urge you now; -think upon it, however--it is not so mad a scheme as you may have -thought, but such a one as looked on calmly, with the cold eye of -reason, seems practicable--ay, sure of success. Ponder the matter, -then; give me no answer now--I will take none--but think well upon it, -and after a week, and not sooner, when you have decided, tell me -whether you will be one of us or not. Meanwhile, I have other matters -to tell you of, in which perhaps your young heart will take a nearer -interest." - -He paused, and having replenished their glasses, and thrown a fresh -supply of wood upon the fire, he continued,-- - -"Are you acquainted with a family named Ashwoode?" - -"Yes," replied O'Connor, quickly, "I have known them long." - -O'Hanlon looked searchingly at the young man, and then continued,-- - -"Yes," said he, "I see it is even so--your face betrays it--you loved -the young lady, Mary Ashwoode--deny it not--I am your friend, and seek -not idly or without purpose thus to question you. What thought you of -Henry Ashwoode, now Sir Henry Ashwoode?" - -"He was latterly much--_entirely_ my friend," replied O'Connor. - -"He so professed himself?" asked O'Hanlon. - -"Ay," replied O'Connor, somewhat surprised at the tone in which the -question was put, "he did so profess himself, and repeatedly." - -"He is a villain--he has betrayed you," said the elder man, sternly. - -"How--what--a villain! Henry Ashwoode deceive me?" said O'Connor, -turning pale as death. - -"Yes--unless I've been strangely practised on--he has villainously -deceived alike you and his own sister--pretending friendship, he has -sowed distrust between you." - -"But have you evidence of what you say?" cried O'Connor. "Gracious -God--what have I done!" - -"I have evidence, and you shall hear and judge of it yourself," replied -O'Hanlon; "you cannot hear it to-night, however, nor I produce it--you -need some rest, and so in truth do I--make use of that poor bed--a -tired brain and weary body need no luxurious couch--I shall see you in -the morning betimes--till then farewell." - -The young man would fain have detained O'Hanlon, and spoken with him, -but in vain. - -"We have talked enough for this night," said the elder man--"I have it -not in my power now to satisfy you--I shall, however, in the morning--I -have taken measures for the purpose--good-night." - -So saying, O'Hanlon left the chamber, and closed the door upon his -young friend, now less than ever disposed to slumber. - -He threw himself upon the pallet, the victim of a thousand harassing -and exciting thoughts--sleep was effectually banished; and at length, -tired of the fruitless attitude of repose which he courted in vain, he -arose and resumed his seat by the hearth, in anxious and weary -expectation of the morning. - -At length the red light of the dawn broke over the smoky city, and with -a dusky glow the foggy sun emerged from the horizon of chimney-tops, -and threw his crimson mantle of ruddy light over the hoary thorn-wood -and the shattered mansion, beneath whose roof had passed the scenes we -have just described. Never did the sick wretch, who in sleepless -anguish has tossed and fretted through the tedious watches of the -night, welcome the return of day with more cordial greeting than did -O'Connor upon this dusky morn. The time which was to satisfy his doubts -could not now be far distant, and every sound which smote upon his ear -seemed to announce the approach of him who was to dispel them all. - -Weary, haggard, and nervous after the fatigues and agitation of the -previous day--unrefreshed by the slumbers he so much required, his -irritation and excitement were perhaps even greater than under other -circumstances they would have been. The torments of suspense were at -length, however, ended--he did hear steps approach the chamber--the -steps evidently of more than one person--the door opened, and O'Hanlon, -followed by Signor Parucci, entered the room. - -"I believe, young gentleman, you have seen this person before?" said -O'Hanlon, addressing O'Connor, while he glanced at the Italian. - -O'Connor assented. - -"Ah! yees," said the Neapolitan, with a winning smile; "he has see me -vary often. Signor O'Connor--he know me vary well. I am so happy to see -him again--vary--oh! vary." - -"Let Mr. O'Connor know briefly and distinctly what you have already -told me," said O'Hanlon. - -"About the letters?" asked the Italian. - -"Yes, be brief," replied O'Hanlon. - -"Ah! did he not guess?" rejoined the Neapolitan; "_per crilla!_ the -deception succeed, then--vary coning faylow was old Sir Richard--bote -not half so coning as his son, Sir Henry. He never suspect--Mr. -O'Connor never doubt, bote took all the letters and read them just so -as Sir Henry said he would. _Malora!_ what great meesfortune." - -"Parucci, speak plainly to the point; I cannot endure this. Say at once -what has he done--_how_ have I been deceived?" cried O'Connor. - -"You remember when the old gentleman--Mr. Audley, I think he is -call--saw Sir Richard--immediately after that some letters passed -between you and Mees Mary Ashwoode." - -"I do remember it--proceed," replied O'Connor. - -"Mees Mary's letters to you were cold and unkind, and make you think -she did not love you any more," added Parucci. - -"Well, well--say on--say on--for God's sake, man--say on," cried -O'Connor, vehemently. - -"Those letters you got were not written by her," continued the Italian, -coolly; "they were all wat you call _forged_--written by another -person, and planned by Sir Henry and Sir Reechard; and the same way on -the other side--the letters you wrote to her were all stopped, and read -by the same two gentlemen, and other letters written in stead, and she -is breaking her heart, because she thinks you 'av betrayed her, and -given her up--_rotta di collo!_ they 'av make nice work!" - -"Prove this to me, prove it," said O'Connor, wildly, while his eye -burned with the kindling fire of fury. - -"I weel prove it," rejoined Parucci, but with an agitated voice and a -troubled face; "bote, _corpo di Plato_, you weel keel me if I -tell--promise--swear--by your honour--you weel not horte me--you weel -not toche me--swear, Signor, and I weel tell." - -"Miserable caitiff--speak, and quickly--you are safe--I swear it," -rejoined he. - -"Well, then," resumed the Italian, with restored calmness, "I will -prove it so that you cannot doubt any more--it was I that wrote the -letters for them--I, myself--and beside, here is the bundle with all of -them written out for me to copy--most of them by Sir Henry--you know -his hand-writing--you weel see the character--_corbezzoli!_ he is a -great rogue--and you will find all the _real_ letters from you and Mees -Mary that were stopped--I have them here." - -He here disengaged from the deep pocket of his coat, a red leathern -case stamped with golden flowers, and opening it presented it to the -young man. - -With shifting colour and eyes almost blinded with agitation, O'Connor -read and re-read these documents. - -"Where is Ashwoode?" at length he cried; "bring me to him--gracious -God, what a monster I must have appeared--will she--_can_ she ever -forgive me?" - -Disregarding in entire contempt the mean agent of Ashwoode's villainy, -and thinking only of the high-born principal, O'Connor, pale as death, -but with perfect deliberateness, arose and took the sword which the -attendant who conducted him to the room had laid by the wall, and -replacing it at his side, said sternly,-- - -"Bring me to Sir Henry Ashwoode--where is he? I must speak with him." - -"I cannot breeng you to him now," replied Parucci, in internal -ecstasies, "for I cannot say where he is; bote I know vary well where -he weel be to-day after dinner time, in the evening, and I weel breeng -you; bote I hope very moche you are not intending any mischiefs; if I -thought so, I would be vary sorry--oh! vary." - -"Well, be it so, if it may not be sooner," said O'Connor, gloomily, -"this evening at all events he shall account with me." - -"Meanwhile," said O'Hanlon, "you may as well remain here; and when the -time arrives which this Italian fellow names, we can start. I will -accompany you, for in such cases the arm of a friend can do you no harm -and may secure you fair play. Hear me, you Italian scoundrel, remain -here until we are ready to depart with you, and that shall be whenever -you think it time to seek Sir Henry Ashwoode; you shall have enough to -eat and drink meanwhile; depart, and relieve us of your company." - -Signor Parucci smiled sweetly from ear to ear, shrugged, and bowed, and -then glided lightly from the room, exulting in the pleasant conviction -that he had commenced operations against his ungrateful patron, by -involving him in a scrape which must inevitably result in somewhat -unpleasant exposures, and which had beside reduced the question of Sir -Henry's life or death to an even chance. - - - - -CHAPTER XLVII. - -"THE JOLLY BOWLERS"--THE DOUBLE FRAY AND THE FLIGHT. - - -At the time of which we write, there lay at the southern extremity of -the city of Dublin, a bowling-green of fashionable resort, well known -as "Cullen's Green." For greater privacy it was enclosed by a brick -wall of considerable height, which again was surrounded by stately rows -of lofty and ancient elms. A few humble dwellings were clustered about -it; and through one of them, a low, tiled public-house, lay the -entrance into this place of pastime. Thitherward O'Connor and O'Hanlon, -having left their horses at the "Cock and Anchor," were led by the wily -Italian. - -"The players you say, will not stop till dusk," said O'Connor; "we can -go in, and I shall wait until the party have broken up, to speak to -Ashwoode; in the interval we can mix with the spectators, and so escape -remark." - -They were now approaching the little tavern embowered in tufted trees, -and as they advanced, they perceived a number of hack carriages and led -horses congregated upon the road about its entrance. - -"Sir Henry is within; that iron-grey is his horse; _sangue dun dua_, -there is no mistake," observed the Neapolitan. - -The little party entered the humble tavern, but here they were -encountered by a new difficulty. - -"You can't get in to-night, gentlemen--sorry to disappint, gentlemen; -but the green's engaged," said mine host, with an air of mysterious -importance; "a private party, engaged two days since for fear of a -disappint." - -"Are they so strictly private, that they would not suffer two gentlemen -to be spectators of their play?" inquired O'Hanlon. - -"My orders is not to let anyone in, good, bad, or indifferent, while -they are playing the match; that's _my_ orders," replied the man; -"sorry to disappint, but can't break my word with the gentlemen, you -know." - -"Is there any other entrance into the bowling-green?" inquired -O'Connor, "except through that door." - -"Divil a one, sir, where would it be?--divil a one, gentlemen," replied -mine host, "no other way in or out." - -"We will rest ourselves here for a time, then," said O'Connor. - -Accordingly the party seated themselves in the low-roofed chamber -through which the bowlers on quitting the ground must necessarily pass; -and calling for some liquor to prevent suspicion, moodily awaited the -appearance of the young baronet and his companions. Many a stern, -impatient glance of expectation did O'Connor direct to the old door -which alone separated him from the traitor and hypocrite who had with -such monstrous fraud practised upon his unsuspecting confidence. At -length he heard gay laughter and the tread of many feet approaching; -the proprietor of "The Jolly Bowlers" opened the door, and several -merry groups passed them by and took their departure, but O'Connor's -eye in vain sought among them the form of young Ashwoode. - -"I see the grey horse still at the door; I know it as well as I know my -own hand," said the Italian; "as sure as I am leeving man, Sir Henry is -there still." - -After an interval so considerable that O'Connor almost despaired of the -appearance of Ashwoode, voices were again audible, and steps -approaching the door-way at a slow pace; the time between the first -approach of those sounds, and the actual appearance of those who caused -them, appeared to the overwrought anxiety of O'Connor all but -interminable. At length, however, two figures entered from the -bowling-green--the one was that of a spare but dignified-looking man, -somewhat advanced in years, but carrying in his countenance a singular -expression of jollity and good humour--the other was that of Sir Henry -Ashwoode. - -"God be thanked," said O'Hanlon, grasping the hilt of his sword, "here -comes the perjured villain Wharton." - -O'Connor had another object, however, and beheld no one existing thing -but only the now hated form of his false friend; both he and O'Hanlon -started to their feet as the two figures entered the small and darksome -room. O'Connor threw himself directly in their path and said,-- - -"Sir Henry Ashwoode, a word with you." - -The appeal was startling and unexpected, and there was in the voice and -attitude of him who uttered it, something of deep, intense, constrained -passion and resolution, which made the two companions involuntarily and -suddenly check their advance. One moment sufficed for Sir Henry to -recognize O'Connor, and another convinced him that his quondam friend -had discovered his treachery, and was there to unmask, perhaps to -punish him. His presence of mind, however, seldom, if ever, forsook him -in such scenes as this--he instantly resolved upon the tone in which to -meet his injured antagonist. - -"Pray, sir," said he, with stern _hauteur_, "upon what ground do you -presume to throw yourself thus menacingly in my way? Move aside and let -me pass, or your rashness shall cost you dearly." - -"Ashwoode--Sir Henry--you well know there is one consideration which -would unstring my arm if lifted against your life--you presume upon the -forbearance which this respect commands," said O'Connor. "Promise but -this--that you will undeceive your sister, whom you have practised upon -as cruelly as you have on me, and I will call you to no further -account, and inflict no further humiliation." - -"Very good, sir, very magnanimous, and exceedingly tragic," rejoined -Ashwoode, scornfully. "Turn aside, sirrah, and leave my path open, or -by the ---- you shall rue it." - -"I will not leave the spot on which I stand but with my life, except on -the conditions I have named," replied O'Connor. - -"Once more, before I _strike_ you, leave the way," cried Ashwoode, -whose constitutional pugnacity began to be thoroughly aroused. "Turn -aside, sirrah! How dare you confront gentlemen--insolent beggar, how -dare you!" - -Yielding to the furious impulse of the moment, Sir Henry Ashwoode drew -his sword, and with the naked blade struck his antagonist twice with no -sparing hand. The passions which O'Connor had, with all his energy, -hitherto striven to master, would now brook restraint no longer; at -this last extremity of insult the blood sprang from his heart in fiery -currents and tingled through every vein; every feeling but the one -deadly sense of outraged pride, of repeated wrong, followed and -consummated by one degrading and intolerable outrage, vanished from his -mind. With the speed of light his sword was drawn and presented at -Ashwoode's breast. Each threw himself into the cautious attitude of -deadly vigilance, and quick as lightning the bright blades crossed and -clashed in the mortal rivalry of cunning fence. Each party was -possessed of consummate skill in the use of the fatal weapon which he -wielded, and several times in the course of the fierce debate, so -evenly were they matched, the two, as by voluntary accommodation, -paused in the conflict to take breath. - -With faces pale as death with rage, and a consciousness of the deadly -issue in which alone the struggle could end, and with eyes that glared -like those of savage beasts at bay, each eyed the other. Thus -alternately they paused and renewed the combat, and for long, with -doubtful fortune. In the position of the antagonists there was, -however, an inequality, and, as it turned out, a decisive one--the door -through which Ashwoode and his companion had entered, and to which his -back was turned, lay open, and the light which it admitted fell full in -O'Connor's eyes. This, as all who have handled the foil can tell, is a -disadvantage quite sufficient to determine even a less nicely balanced -contest than that of which we write. After several pauses in the -combat, and as many desperate renewals of it, Ashwoode, in one quick -lunge, passed his blade through his opponent's sword-arm. Though the -blood flowed plenteously, neither party seemed inclined to abate his -deadly efforts. O'Connor's arm began to grow stiff and weak, and the -energy and quickness of his action impaired; the consequences of this -were soon exhibited. Ashwoode lunged twice or thrice rapidly, and one -of these passes, being imperfectly parried, took effect in his -opponent's breast. O'Connor staggered backward, and his hand and eye -faltered for a moment; but he quickly recovered, and again advanced and -again with the same result. Faint, dizzy, and half blind, but with -resolution and rage, enhanced by defeat, he staggered forward again, -wild and powerless, and was received once more upon the point of his -adversary's sword. He reeled back, stood for a moment, his sword -dropped upon the ground, and he shook his empty hand in fruitless -menace at his triumphant antagonist, and then rolled headlong upon the -pavement, insensible, and weltering in gore--the combat was over. - -Ashwoode and O'Connor had hardly crossed their weapons when O'Hanlon -sprang forward and sternly accosted Lord Wharton, for it was no other, -who accompanied Ashwoode. - -"My lord, you need not interfere," said he, observing a movement on -Lord Wharton's part as if he would have separated the combatants. "This -is a question which all your diplomacy will not arrange--they will -fight it to the end. If you give them not fair play while I secure the -door, I will send my sword through your excellency's body." - -So saying, O'Hanlon drew his weapon, and keeping occasional watch upon -Wharton--who, however, did not exhibit any further disposition to -interfere--he strode to the outer door, which opened upon the public -road, and to prevent interruption from that quarter, drew the bar and -secured it effectually. - -"Now, my lord," said he, returning and resuming his position, "I have -secured this fortunate meeting against intrusion. What think you, while -our friends are thus engaged, were we, for warmth and exercise sake, -likewise to cross our blades? Will your lordship condescend to gratify -a simple gentleman so far?" - -"Out upon you, fellow; know you who I am?" said Wharton, with sturdy -good-humour. - -"I know thee well, Lord Wharton--a wily, selfish, double-dealing -politician; a profligate in morals; an infidel in religion; and a -traitor in politics. I know thee--who doth not?" - -"Landlord," said Wharton, turning toward that personage, who, with -amazement, irresolution, and terror in his face, inspected these -violent proceedings, "landlord, I say, call in a lackey or two; I'll -bring this ruffian to reason quickly. Have you gotten a pump in the -neighbourhood? Landlord, I say, bestir thyself, or, by ----, I'll spur -thee with my sword-point." - -"Stir not, if you would keep your life," said O'Hanlon, in a tone which -the half-stupefied host of "The Jolly Bowlers" dared not disobey. "If -you would not suffer death upon the spot where you stand, do not -attempt to move one step, nor to speak one word. My lord," he -continued, "I am right glad of this rencounter. I would have freely -given half what I possess in the world to have secured it. Believe me, -I will not leave it unimproved. My lord, in plain terms, for ten -thousand reasons I desire your death, and will not leave this place -till I have striven to effect it. Draw your sword, if you be a man; -draw your sword, unless cowardice has come to crown your vices." - -O'Hanlon drew his sword, and allowing Wharton hardly time sufficient to -throw himself into an attitude of defence, he attacked him with deadly -resolution. It was well for the viceroy that he was an expert -swordsman, otherwise his career would undoubtedly have been abruptly -terminated upon the floor of "The Jolly Bowlers." As it was, he -received a thrust right through the shoulder, and staggering back, -stumbled and fell upon the uneven pavement which studded the floor. -This occurred almost at the same moment with O'Connor's fall, and -believing that he had mortally hurt his noble antagonist, O'Hanlon, -without stopping to look about him hastily lifted his fallen and -senseless companion from the pavement and bore him in his arms through -the outer door, which the landlord had at length found resolution -enough to unbar. Fortunately a hackney coach stood there waiting for a -chance job from some of the aristocratic bowlers within, and in this -vehicle he hurriedly deposited his inanimate burden, and desiring the -coachman to drive for his life into the city, sprang into the -conveyance himself. Irishmen are proverbially ready at all times to aid -an escape from the fangs of justice, and without pausing to ask a -question, the coachman, to whom the sight of blood and of the naked -sword, which O'Hanlon still carried, was warrant sufficient, mounted -the box with incredible speed, pressed his hat firmly down upon his -brows, shook the reins, and lashed his horses till they smoked again; -and thus, at a gallop, O'Hanlon and his bleeding companion thundered -onward toward the city. Ashwoode did not interfere to stay the -fugitives, for he was not sorry to be relieved of the embarrassment -which he foresaw in having the body of his victim left, as it were, in -his charge. He therefore gladly witnessed its removal, and addressed -himself to Lord Wharton, who was rising with some difficulty from his -prostrate position. - -"Are you hurt, my lord?" inquired Ashwoode, kneeling by his side and -assisting him to rise. - -"Hush! nothing--a mere scratch. Above all things, make no row about it. -By ----, I would not for worlds that anything were heard of it. -Fortunately, this accident is a trivial one--the blood flows rather -fast, though. Let's get into a coach, if, indeed, the scoundrels have -not run away with the last of them." - -They found one, however, at the door, and getting in with all -convenient dispatch, desired the man to drive slowly toward the castle. - - - - -CHAPTER XLVIII. - -THE STAINED RUFFLES. - - -We must now return for a brief space to Morley Court. The apartment -which lay beneath what had been Sir Richard Ashwoode's bed-chamber, and -in which Mary and her gay cousin, Emily Copland, had been wont to sit -and work, and read and sing together, had grown to be considered, by -long-established usage, the rightful and exclusive property of the -ladies of the family, and had been surrendered up to their private -occupation and absolute control. Around it stood full many a quaint -cabinet of dark old wood, shining like polished jet, little bookcases, -and tall old screens, and music stands, and drawing tables. These, -along with a spinet and a guitar, and countless other quaint and pretty -sundries indicating the habitual presence of feminine refinement and -taste, abundantly furnished the chamber. In the window stood some -choice and fragrant flowers, and the light fell softly upon the carpet -through the clustering bowers of creeping plants which mantled the -outer wall, in sombre rivalry of the full damask curtains, whose -draperies hung around the deep receding casements. - -Here sat Mary Ashwoode, as the evening, whose tragic events we have in -our last chapter described, began to close over the old manor of Morley -Court. Her embroidery had been thrown aside, and lay upon the table, -and a book, which she had been reading, was open before her; but her -eyes now looked pensively through the window upon the fair, sad -landscape, clothed in the warm and melancholy tints of evening. Her -graceful arm leaned upon the table, and her small, white hand supported -her head and mingled in the waving tresses of her dark hair. - -"At what hour did my brother promise to return?" said she, addressing -herself to her maid, who was listlessly arranging some books in the -little book-case. - -"Well, I declare and purtest, I can't rightly remember," rejoined the -maid, cocking her head on one side reflectively, and tapping her -eyebrow to assist her recollection. "I don't think, my lady, he named -any hour precisely; but at any rate, you may be sure he'll not be long -away now." - -"I thought he said seven o'clock," continued Mary; "would he were come! -I feel very solitary to-day; and this evening we might pass happily -together, for that strange man will not return to-night--he said so--my -brother told me so." - -"I believe Mr. Blarden changed his mind, my lady," said the maid; "for -I know he gave orders before he went for a fire in his room to-night." - -Even as she spoke she heard Sir Henry's step upon the stairs, and her -brother entered the room. - -"Harry, Harry, I am so glad to see you," said she, running lightly to -him and throwing her arms around his neck. "Come, come, sit you down -beside me; we shall be happy together at least for this evening. Come, -Harry, come." - -So saying she led him, passive and gloomy, to the fireside, and drew a -chair beside that into which he had thrown himself. - -"Dear brother, the time seemed so very tedious to-day while you were -away," said she. "I thought it would never pass. Why are you so silent -and thoughtful, brother? has anything happened to vex you?" - -"Nothing," said he, glancing at her with a strange expression--"nothing -to vex me--no, nothing--perhaps the contrary." - -"Dear brother, have you heard good news? Come and tell me," said she; -"though I fear from the sadness of your face you do but flatter me. -Have you, Harry--have you heard or seen anything that gave you -comfort?" - -"No, not comfort; I know not what I say. Have you any wine here?" said -Ashwoode, hurriedly; "I am tired and thirsty." - -"No, not here," answered she, somewhat surprised at the oddity of the -question, as well as by the abruptness and abstraction of his manner. - -"Carey," said he, "run down--bring wine quickly; I'm exhausted--quite -wearied. I have played more at bowls this afternoon than I've done for -years," he added, addressing his sister as the maid departed on her -errand. - -"You do look very pale, brother," said she, "and your dress is all -disordered; and, gracious God!--see all the ruffles of this hand are -steeped in blood--brother, brother, for God's sake--are you hurt?" - -"Hurt--I--?" said he hastily, and endeavouring to smile! "no, indeed--I -hurt! far be it from me--this blood is none of mine; one of our party -scratched his hand, and I bound his handkerchief round the wound, and -in so doing contracted these tragic spots that startle you so. No, no, -believe me, when I am hurt I will make no secret of it. Carey, pour -some wine into that glass--fill it--fill it, child--there," and he -drank it off--"fill it again--so two or three more, and I shall be -quite myself again. How snug this room of yours is, Mary." - -"Yes, brother, I am very fond of it; it is a pleasant old room, and one -that has often seen me happier than I shall be again," said she, with a -sigh; "but do you feel better? has the wine refreshed you? You still -look pale," she added, with fears not yet half quieted. - -"Yes, Mary, I am refreshed," he said, with a sudden and reckless burst -of strange merriment that shocked her; "I could play the match through -again--I could leap, and laugh and sing;" and then he added quickly in -an altered voice--"has Blarden returned?" - -"No," said she; "I thought you said he would remain in town to-night." - -"I said wrong if I said so at all," replied Ashwoode; "and if he _did_ -intend to stay in town he has changed his plans--he will be here this -evening; I thought I should have found him here on my return; I expect -him every moment." - -"When, dear brother, is this visit of his to end?" asked the girl -imploringly. - -"Not for weeks--for months, I hope," replied Ashwoode drily and -quickly; "why do you inquire, pray?" - -"Simply because I wish it were ended, brother," answered she sadly; -"but if it vexes you I will ask no more." - -"It _does_ vex me, then," said Ashwoode, sternly; "it _does_, and you -know it"--he accompanied these words with a look even more savage than -the tone in which he had uttered them, and a silence of some minutes -followed. - -Ashwoode desired nothing so much as to speak with his sister -intelligibly upon the subject of Blarden's designs, and of his own -entire approval of them; but, somehow, often as he had resolved upon -it, he had never yet approached the topic, even in imagination, in his -sister's presence, without feeling himself unnerved and abashed. He now -strove to fret himself into a rage, in the instinctive hope that under -the influence of this stimulus he might find nerve to broach the -subject in plain terms; he strode quickly to and fro across the floor, -casting from time to time many an angry glance at the poor girl, and -seeking by every mechanical agency to work himself into a passion. - -"And so it is come to this at last," said he, vehemently, "that I may -not invite my friends to my own house; or that if I dare to do so, they -shall necessarily be exposed to the constant contempt and rudeness of -those who ought to be their entertainers; all their advances towards -acquaintance met with a hoity-toity, repulsive impertinence, and -themselves treated with a marked and insulting avoidance, shunned as -though they had the plague. I tell you now plainly, once for all, _I -will_ be master in my own house; you shall treat my guests with -attention and respect; you must do so; I command you; you shall find -that I am master here." - -"No doubt of it, by ----," ejaculated Nicholas Blarden, himself -entering the room at the termination of Ashwoode's stormy harangue; -"but where the devil is the good of roaring that way? your sister is -not deaf, I suppose? Mistress Mary, your most obedient----" - -Mary did not wait for further conference; but rising with a proud mien -and a burning cheek, she left the room and went quickly to her own -chamber, where she threw herself into a chair, covered her eyes with -her hands, and burst into an agony of weeping. - -"Well, but she _is_ a fine wench," cried Nicholas Blarden, as soon as -she had disappeared. "The tantarums become her better than good -humour;" so saying, he half filled Ashwoode's glass with wine, and -rinsed it into the fireplace; then coolly filled a bumper and quaffed -it off, and then another and another. - -"Sit down here and listen to me," said he to Ashwoode, in that -insolent, domineering tone which he so loved to employ in accosting -him, "sit down here, I say, young man, and listen to me while I give -you a bit of my mind." - -Ashwoode, who knew too well the consequences of even murmuring under -the tyranny of his task-master, in silence did as he was commanded. - -"I tell you what it is," said Blarden, "I don't like the way this -affair is going on; the girl avoids me; I don't know her, by ----, a -curse better to-day than I did the first day I came into the house; -this won't do, you know; it will never do; you had better strike out -some expeditious plan, or it's very possible I may tire of the whole -concern and cut it back, do you mind; you had better sharpen your wits, -my fine fellow." - -"The fault is your own," said Ashwoode gloomily; "if you desire -expedition, you can command it, by yourself speaking to her; you have -not as yet even hinted at your intentions, nor by any one act made her -acquainted with your designs; let her see that you like her; let her -understand you; you have never done so yet." - -"She's infernally proud," said Blarden, "just as proud as yourself: but -we know a knack, don't we, for bringing pride to its senses? Eh? -Nothing, I believe, Sir Henry, like _fear_ in such cases; don't you -think so? I've known it succeed sometimes to a miracle--fear of one -kind or another is the only way we have of working men or women. Mind I -tell you she must be frightened, and well frightened too, or she'll run -rusty. I have a knack with me--a kind of gift--of frightening people -when I have a fancy; and if you're in earnest, as I guess you pretty -well are, between us we'll tame her." - -"It were not advisable to proceed at once to extremities," said -Ashwoode, who, spite of his constitutional selfishness, felt some odd -sensations, and not of the pleasantest kind, while they thus conversed. -"You must begin by showing your wishes in your manner; be attentive to -her; and, in short, let her unequivocally see the nature of your -intentions; _tell_ her that you want to marry her; and when she -refuses, then it is time enough to commence those--those--other -operations at which you hint." - -"Well, d----n me, but there is some sense in what you say," observed -Blarden, filling his glass again. "Umph! perhaps I've been rather -backward; I believe I _have_; she's coy, shy, and a proud little -baggage withal--I like her the better for it--and requires a lot of -wooing before she's won; well, I'll make myself clear on to-morrow. I'm -blessed if she sha'n't understand me beyond the possibility of question -or doubt; and if she won't listen to reason, _then_ we'll see whether -there isn't a way to break her spirit if she was as proud as the -Queen." With these words Blarden arose and drained the flask of wine, -then observed authoritatively,-- - -"Get the cards and follow me to the parlour. I want something to amuse -me; be quick, d'ye hear?" - -And so saying he took his departure, followed by Sir Henry Ashwoode, -whose condition was now more thoroughly abject and degraded than that -of a purchased slave. - - - - -CHAPTER XLIX. - -OLD SONGS--THE UNWELCOME LISTENER--THE BARONET'S PLEDGE. - - -Next day Mary Ashwoode sat alone in the same room in which she had been -so unpleasantly intruded upon on the evening before. The unkindness of -her brother had caused her many a bitter tear during the past night, -and although still entirely in the dark as to Blarden's designs, there -was yet something in his manner during the brief moment of their -yesterday evening's rencontre which alarmed her, and suggested, in a -few hurried and fevered dreams which troubled her broken slumbers of -the night past, his dreaded image in a hundred wild and fantastic -adventures. - -She sat, as we have already said, alone in the self-same room, and as -mechanically she pursued her work, her thoughts were far away, and -wherever they turned still were they clouded with anxiety and sorrow. -Wearied at length with the monotony of an occupation which availed not -even momentarily to draw her attention from the griefs which weighed -upon her, she threw her work aside, and taking the guitar which in -gayer hours had often yielded its light music to her touch, and trying -to forget the consciousness of her changed and lonely existence in the -happier recollections which returned in these once familiar sounds, she -played and sang the simple melodies which had been her favourites long -ago; but while thus her hands strayed over the chords of the -instrument, and the low and silvery cadences of her sweet voice -recalled many a touching remembrance of the past, she was startled and -recalled at once from her momentary forgetfulness of the present by a -voice close behind her which exclaimed,-- - -"Capital--never a better--encore, encore;" and on looking hurriedly -round, her glance at once encountered and recognized the form and -features of Nicholas Blarden. "Go on, go on, do," said that gentleman -in his most engaging way, and with an amorous grin; "do--go on, can't -you--by ----, I'm half sorry I said a word." - -"I--I would rather not," stammered she, rising and colouring; "I have -played and sung enough--too much already." - -"No, no, not at all," continued Blarden, warming as he proceeded; "hang -me, no such thing, you were just going on strong when I came in--come, -come, I won't _let_ you stop." - -Her heart swelled with indignation at the coarse, familiar insolence of -his manner; but she made no other answer than that conveyed by laying -down the instrument, and turning from it and him. - -"Well, rot me, but this is too bad," continued he, playfully; "come, -take it up again--come, you _must_ tip us another stave, young -lady--do--curse me if I heard half your songs, you're a perfect -nightingale." - -So saying he took up the guitar, and followed her with it towards the -fireplace. - -"Come, you won't refuse, eh?--I'm in earnest," he continued; "upon my -soul and oath I want to hear more of it." - -"I have already told you, sir," said Mary Ashwoode, "that I do not wish -to play or sing any more at present. I am sure you are not aware, Mr. -Blarden, that this is my private apartment; no one visits me here -uninvited, and at present I wish to be alone." - -Thus speaking, she resumed her seat and her work, and sat in perfect -silence, her heaving breast and glowing cheeks alone betraying the -strength of her emotions. - -"Ho, ho! rot me, but she's sulky," cried Blarden, with a horse-laugh, -while he flung the guitar carelessly upon the table; "sure you wouldn't -turn me out--that would be very hard usage, and no mistake. Eh! Miss -Mary?" - -Mary continued to ply her silks in silence, and Blarden threw himself -into a chair opposite to her. - -"I like to rise you--hang me, if I don't," said Blarden, -exultingly--"you are always a snug-looking bit of goods, but when your -blood's up, you're a downright beauty--rot me, but you are--why the -devil don't you talk to me--eh?" he added, more roughly than he had yet -spoken. - -Mary Ashwoode began now to feel seriously alarmed at the man's manner, -and as her eyes encountered his gloating gaze, her colour came and went -in quick succession. - -"Confoundedly pretty, sure enough, and well you know it, too," -continued he--"curse me, but you _are_ a fine wench--and I'll tell you -what's more--I'm more than half in love with you at this minute, may -the devil have me but I am." - -Thus speaking, he drew his chair nearer hers. - -"Mr. Blarden--sir--I insist on your leaving me," said Mary, now -thoroughly frightened. - -"And _I_ insist on _not_ leaving you," replied Blarden, with an -insolent chuckle--"so it's a fair trial of strength between us, -eh?--ho, ho, what are you afraid of?--stick up to your fight--do -then--I like you all the better for your spirit--confound me but I do." - -He advanced his chair still nearer to that on which she was seated. - -"Well, but you _do_ look pretty, by Jove," he exclaimed. "I like _you_, -and I am determined to make you like _me_--I am--you _shall_ like me." - -He arose, and approached her with a half amorous, half menacing air. - -Pale as death, Mary Ashwoode arose also, and moved with hurried, -trembling steps towards the door. He made a movement as if to intercept -her exit, but checked the impulse, and contented himself with observing -with a scowl of spite and disappointment, as she passed from the -room,-- - -"Pride will have a fall, my fine lady--you'll be tame enough yet for -all your tantarums, by Jove." - -Breathless with haste and agitation, Mary reached the study, where she -knew her brother was now generally to be found. He was there engaged in -the miserable labour of looking through accounts and letters, in -arranging the complicated records of his own ruin. - -"Brother," said she, running to his side with the earnestness of deep -agitation, "brother, listen to me." - -He raised his eyes, and at a glance easily divined the cause of her -excitement. - -"Well," said he, "speak on--I hear." - -"Brother," she resumed, "that man--that Mr. Blarden, came uninvited -into my study; he was at first very coarse and free in his manner--very -disagreeable and impudent--he refused to leave me when I requested him -to do so, and every moment became more and more insolent--his manner -and language terrified me. Brother, dear brother, you must not expose -me to another such scene as that which has just passed." - -Ashwoode paused for a good while, with the pen still in his fingers, -and his eyes fixed abstractedly upon his sister's pale face. At length -he said,-- - -"Do you wish me to make this a quarrel with Blarden? Was there enough -to warrant a--a duel?" - -He well knew, however, that he was safe in putting the question, and in -anticipating her answer, he calculated rightly the strength of his -sister's affection for him. - -"Oh! no, no, brother--no!" she cried, with imploring terror; "dear -brother, you are everything to me now. No, no; promise that you will -not!" - -"Well, well, I do," said Ashwoode; "but how would you have me act?" - -"Do not ask this man to prolong his visit," replied she; "or if he -must, at least let me go elsewhere while he remains here." - -"You have but one female relative in Ireland with a house to receive -you," rejoined Ashwoode, "and that is Lady Stukely; and I have reason -to think she would not like to have you as a guest just now." - -"Dear Harry--dear brother, think of some place," said she, with earnest -entreaty. "I now feel secure nowhere; that rude man, the very sight of -whom affrights me, will not forbear to intrude upon my privacy; -alone--in my own little room--anywhere in this house--I am equally -liable to his intrusions and his rudeness. Dear brother, take pity on -me--think of some place." - -"Curse that beast Blarden!" muttered Sir Henry Ashwoode, between his -teeth. "Will nothing ever teach the ruffian one particle of tact or -common sense? What good end could he possibly propose to himself by -terrifying the girl?" - -Ashwoode bit his lips and frowned, while he thought the matter over. At -length he said,-- - -"I shall speak to Blarden immediately. I begin to think that the man is -not fit company for civilized people. I think we must get rid of him at -whatever temporary inconvenience, without actual rudeness. Without -anything approaching to a quarrel, I can shorten his visit. He shall -leave this either to-night or before seven o'clock to-morrow morning." - -"And you promise there shall be no quarrel--no violence?" urged she. - -"Yes, Mary, I do promise," rejoined Ashwoode. - -"Dear, dear brother, you have set my heart at rest," cried she. "Yes, -you _are_ my own dear brother--my protector!" And with all the warmth -and enthusiasm of unsuspecting love, she threw her arms around his neck -and kissed her betrayer. - -Mary had scarcely left the room in which Sir Henry Ashwoode was seated, -when he perceived Blarden sauntering among the trees by the window, -with his usual swagger; the young man put on his hat and walked quickly -forth to join him; as soon as he had come up with him, Blarden turned, -and anticipating him, said,-- - -"Well, I _have_ spoken out, and I think she understands me too; at any -rate, if she don't, it's no fault of mine." - -"I wish you had managed it better," said Ashwoode; "there is a way of -doing these things. You have frightened the foolish girl half out of -her wits." - -"Have I, though?" exclaimed Blarden, with a triumphant grin. "She's -just the girl we want--easily cowed. I'm glad to hear it. We'll manage -her--we'll bring her into training before a week--hang me, but we -will." - -"You began a little too soon, though," urged Ashwoode; "you ought to -have tried gentle means first." - -"Devil the morsel of good in them," rejoined Blarden. "I see well -enough how the wind sits--she don't like me; and I haven't time to -waste in wooing. Once we're buckled, she'll be fond enough of me; -matrimony 'll turn out smooth enough--I'll take devilish good care of -that; but the courtship will be the devil's tough business. We must -begin the taming system off-hand; there's no use in shilly shally." - -"I tell you," rejoined Ashwoode, "you have been too precipitate--I -speak, of course, merely in relation to the policy and expediency of -the thing. I don't mean to pretend that constraint may not become -necessary hereafter; but just now, and before our plans are well -considered, and our arrangements made, I think it was injudicious to -frighten her so. She was talking of leaving the house and going to Lady -Stukely's, or, in short, anywhere rather than remain here." - -"Threaten to run away, did she?" cried Blarden, with a whistle of -surprise which passed off into a chuckle. - -"Yes, in plain terms, she said so," rejoined Ashwoode. - -"Then just turn the key upon her at once," replied Blarden--"lock her -up--let her measure her rambles by the four walls of her room! Hang me, -if I can see the difficulty." - -Ashwoode remained silent, and they walked side by side for a time -without exchanging a word. - -"Well, I believe I'm right," cried Blarden, at length; "I think our -game is plain enough, eh? Don't let her budge an inch. Do you act -turnkey, and I'll pay her a visit once a day for fear she'd forget -me--I'll be her father confessor, eh?--ho, ho!--and between us I think -we'll manage to bring her to before long." - -"We must take care before we proceed to this extremity that all our -agents are trustworthy," said Ashwoode. "There is no immediate danger -of her attempting an escape, for I told her that you were leaving this -either to-night or to-morrow morning, and she's now just as sure as if -we had her under lock and key." - -"Well, what do you advise? Can't you speak out? What's all the delay to -lead to?" said Blarden. - -"Merely that we shall have time to adjust our schemes," replied -Ashwoode; "there is more to be done than perhaps you think of. We must -cut off all possibility of correspondence with friends out of doors, -and we must guard against suspicion among the servants; they are all -fond of her, and there is no knowing what mischief might be done even -by the most contemptible agents. Some little preparation before we -employ coercion is absolutely indispensable." - -"Well, then, you'd have me keep out of the way," said Blarden. "But -mind you, I won't leave this; I like to have my own eye upon my own -business." - -"There is no reason why you should leave it," rejoined Ashwoode. "The -weather is now cold and broken, so that Mary will seldom leave the -house; and when she remains in it, she is almost always in the little -drawing-room with her work, and books, and music; with the slightest -precaution you can effectually avoid her for a few days." - -"Well, then, agreed--done and done--a fair go on both sides," replied -Blarden, "but it must not be too long; knock out some scheme that will -wind matters up within a fortnight at furthest; be lively, or she shall -lead apes, and you swing as sure as there's six sides to a die." - - - - -CHAPTER L. - -THE PRESS IN THE WALL. - - -Larry Toole, having visited in vain all his master's usual haunts, -returned in the evening of that day on which we last beheld him, to the -"Cock and Anchor," in a state of extreme depression and desolateness. - -"By the holy man," said Larry, in reply to the inquiries of the groom, -who encountered him at the yard gate, "he's gone as clane as a whistle. -It's dacent thratement, so it is--gone, and laves me behind to rummage -the town for him, and divil a sign of him, good or bad. I'm fairly -burstin' with emotions. Why did he make off with himself? Why the devil -did he desart me? There's no apology for sich minewvers, nor no excuse -in the wide world, anless, indeed, he happened to be dhrounded or -dhrunk. I'm fairly dry with the frettin'. Come in with me, and we'll -have a sorrowful pot iv strong ale together by the kitchen fire; for, -bedad, I want something badly." - -Accordingly the two worthies entered the great old kitchen, and by the -genial blaze of its cheering hearth, they discussed at length the -probabilities of recovering Larry's lost master. - -"Usedn't he to take a run out now and again to Morley Court?" inquired -the groom; "you told me so." - -"By the hokey," exclaimed Larry, with sudden alacrity, "there is some -sinse in what you say--bedad, there is. I don't know how in the world I -didn't think iv going out there to-day. But no matter, I'll do it -to-morrow." - -And in accordance with this resolution, upon the next day, early in the -forenoon, Mr. Toole pursued his route toward the old manor-house. As he -approached the domain, however, he slackened his pace, and, with -extreme hesitation and caution, began to loiter toward the mansion, -screening his approach as much as possible among the thick brushwood -which skirted the rich old timber that clothed the slopes and hollows -of the manor in irregular and stately masses. Sheltered in his post of -observation, Larry lounged about until he beheld Sir Henry emerge from -the hall door and join Nicholas Blarden in the _tete-a-tete_ which we -have in our last chapter described. Our romantic friend no sooner -beheld this occurrence, than he felt all his uneasiness at once -dispelled. He marched rapidly to the hall door, which remained open, -and forthwith entered the house. He had hardly reached the interior of -the hall, when he was encountered by no less a person than the fair -object of his soul's idolatry, the beauteous Mistress Betsy Carey. - -"La, Mr. Laurence," cried she, with an affected start, "you're always -turning up like a ghost, when you're least expected." - -"By the powers of Moll Kelly!" rejoined Larry, with fervour, "it's more -and more beautiful, the Lord be merciful to us, you're growin' every -day you live. What the divil will you come to at last?" - -"Well, Mr. Toole," rejoined she, relaxing into a gracious smile, "but -you do talk more nonsense than any ten beside. I wonder at you, so I -do, Mr. Toole. Why don't you have a discreeterer way of conversation -and discourse?" - -"Och! murdher!--heigho! beautiful Betsy," sighed Larry, rapturously. - -"Did you walk, Mr. Toole?" inquired the maiden. - -"I did so," rejoined Larry. - -"Young master's just gone out," continued the maid. - -"So I seen, jewel," replied Mr. Toole. - -"An' you may as well come into the parlour, an' have some drink and -victuals," added she, with an encouraging smile. - -"Is there no fear of his coming in on me?" inquired Larry, cautiously. - -"Tilly vally, man, who are you afraid of?" exclaimed the handmaiden, -cheerily. "Come, Mr. Toole, you used not to be so easily frightened." - -"I'll never be afraid to folly your lead, most beautiful and -bewildhering iv famales," ejaculated Mr. Toole, gallantly. "So here -goes; folly on, and I'll attind you behind." - -Accordingly, they both entered the great parlour, where the table bore -abundant relics of a plenteous meal, and Mistress Betsy Carey, with her -own fair hands, placed a chair for him at the table, and heaping a -plate with cold beef and bread, laid it before her grateful swain, -along with a foaming tankard of humming ale. The maid was gracious, and -the beef delicious; his ears drank in her accents, and his throat her -ale, and his heart and mouth were equally full. Thus, in a condition as -nearly as human happiness can approach to unalloyed felicity, realizing -the substantial bliss of Mahomet's paradise, Mr. Toole ogled and ate, -and glanced and guzzled in soft rapture, until the force of nature -could no further go on, and laying down his knife and fork, he took one -long last draught of ale, measuring, it is supposed, about three -half-pints, and then, with an easy negligence, wiping the froth from -his mouth with the cuff of his coat, he addressed himself to the fair -dame once more,-- - -"They may say what they like, by the hokey! all the world over; but -divil bellows me, if ever I seen sich another beautiful, fascinating, -flusthrating famale, since I was the size iv that musthard pot--may the -divil bile me if I did," ejaculated Mr. Toole, rapturously throwing -himself into the chair with something between a sigh and a grunt, and -ready to burst with love and repletion. - -The fair maiden endeavoured to look contemptuous; but she smiled in -spite of herself. - -"Well, well, Mr. Toole," she exclaimed, "I see there is no use in -talking; a fool's a fool to the end of his days, and some people's past -cure. But tell me, how's Mr. O'Connor?" - -"Bedad, it's time for me to think iv it," exclaimed Larry, briskly. "Do -you know what brought me here?" - -"How should _I_ know?" responded she, with a careless toss of her head, -and a very conscious look. - -"Well," replied Mr. Toole, "I'll tell you at once. I lost the masther -as clane as a new shilling, an' I'm fairly braking my heart lookin' for -him; an' here I come, trying would I get the chance iv hearing some -soart iv a sketch iv him." - -"Is that all?" inquired the damsel, drily. - -"All!" ejaculated Larry; "begorra. I think it's enough, an' something -to spare. _All!_ why, I tell you the masther's lost, an' anless I get -some news of him here, it's twenty to one the two of us 'ill never meet -in this disappinting world again. _All!_ I think that something." - -"An' pray, what should _I_ know about Mr. O'Connor?" inquired the girl, -tartly. - -"Did you see him, or hear of him, or was he out here at all?" asked he. - -"No, he wasn't. What would bring him?" replied she. - -"Then he _is_ gone in airnest," exclaimed Larry, passionately; "he's -gone entirely! I half guessed it from the first minute. By jabers, my -bitther curse attind that bloody little public. He's lost, an' tin to -one he's _in glory_, for he was always unfortunate. Och! divil fly away -with the liquor." - -"Well, to be sure," ejaculated the lady's maid, with contemptuous -severity, "but it is surprising what fools some people is. Don't you -think your master can go anywhere for a day or two, but he must bring -_you_ along with him, or ask _your_ leave and licence to go where he -pleases forsooth? Marry, come up, it's enough to make a pig laugh only -to listen to you." - -Just at this moment, and when Larry was meditating his reply, steps -were heard in the hall, and voices in debate. They were those of -Nicholas Blarden and of Sir Henry Ashwoode. Larry instantly recognized -the latter, and his companion both of them. - -"They're coming this way," gasped Larry, with agonized alarm. "Tare an' -ouns, evangelical girl, we're done for. Put me somewhere quick, or -begorra it's all over with us." - -"What's to be done, merciful Moses? Where can you go?" ejaculated the -terrified girl, surveying the room with frantic haste. "The press. Oh! -thank God, the press. Come along, quick, quick, Mr. Toole, for gracious -goodness sake." - -So saying, she rushed headlong at a kind of cupboard or press, whose -doors opened in the panelling of the wall, and fumbling with frightful -agitation among her keys, she succeeded at length in unlocking it, and -throwing open its door, exhibited a small orifice of about four feet -and a half by three in the wall. - -"Now, Mr. Toole, into it, as you vally your precious life--quick, -quick, for the love of heaven," ejaculated the maiden. - -Larry was firmly persuaded that the feat was a downright physical -impossibility; yet with a devotion and desperation which love and -terror combined alone could inspire, he mounted a chair, and, supported -by all the muscular strength of his soul's idol, scrambled into the -aperture. A projecting shelf about half way up threw his figure so much -out of equilibrium, that the task of keeping him in his place was no -light one. By main strength, however, the girl succeeded in closing the -door and locking her visitor fairly in, and before her master entered -the chamber, Mr. Toole became a close prisoner, and the key which -confined him was safely deposited in the charming Betsy's pocket. - -Blarden roared lustily to the servants, and with sundry impressive -imprecations, commanded them to remove every vestige of the breakfast -of which the prisoner had just clandestinely partaken. Meanwhile he -continued to walk up and down the room, whistling a lively ditty, and -here and there, at particularly sprightly parts, drumming with his foot -in time upon the floor. - -"Well, that job's done at last," said he. "The room's clean and quiet, -and we can't do better than take a twist at the cards. So let's have a -pack, and play your best, d'ye mind." - -This was addressed to Ashwoode, who, of course, acquiesced. - -"Oh, bloody wars, I'm in for it," murmured Larry, "they'll be playin' -here to no end, and I smothering fast, as it is; I'll never come out iv -this pisition with my life." - -Few situations could indeed be conceived physically more uncomfortable. -A shelf projecting about midway pressed him forward, exerting anything -but a soothing influence upon the backbone, so that his whole weight -rested against the door of his narrow prison, and was chiefly sustained -by his breast-bone and chin. In this very constrained attitude, and -afraid to relieve his fatigue by moving even in the very slightest -degree, lest some accidental noise should excite suspicion and betray -his presence, the ill-starred squire remained; his discomforts still -further enhanced by the pouring of some pickles, which had been -overturned upon an upper shelf, in cool streams of vinegar down his -back. - -"I could not have betther luck," murmured he. "I never discoorsed a -famale yet, but I paid through the nose for it. Didn't I get enough iv -romance, bad luck to it, an' isn't it a plisint pisition I'm in at -last--locked up in an ould cupboard in the wall, an' fairly swimming in -vinegar. Oh, the women, the women. I'd rather than every stitch of -cloth on my back, I walked out clever an' clane to meet the young -masther, and not let myself be boxed up this way, almost dying with the -cramps and the snuffication. Oh, them women, them women!" - -Thus mourned our helpless friend in inarticulate murmurings. Meanwhile -young Ashwoode opened two or three drawers in search of a pack of -cards. - -"There are several, I know, in that locker," said Ashwoode. "I laid -some of them there myself." - -"This one?" inquired Blarden, making the interrogatory by a sharp -application of the head of his cane to the very panel against which -Larry's chin was resting. The shock, the pain, and the exaggerated -loudness of the application caused the inmate of the press, in spite of -himself, to ejaculate,-- - -"Oh, holy Pether!" - -"Did you hear anything queer?" inquired Blarden, with some -consternation. "Anyone calling out?" - -"No," said Ashwoode. - -"Well, see what the nerves is," cried Blarden, "by ----, I'd have bet -ten to one I heard a voice in the wall the minute I hit that locker -door--this ---- weather don't agree with me." - -This sentence he wound up by administering a second knock where he had -given the first; and Larry, with set teeth and a grin, which in a -horse-collar would have won whole pyramids of gingerbread, nevertheless -bore it this time with the silent stoicism of a tortured Indian. - -"The nerves is a ---- quare piece of business," observed Mr. Blarden--a -philosophical remark in which Larry heartily concurred--"but get the -cards, will you--what the ---- is all the delay about?" - -In obedience to Ashwoode's summons, Mistress Betsy Carey entered the -room. - -"Carey," said he, "open that press and take out two or three packs of -cards." - -"I can't open the locker," replied she, readily, "for the young -mistress put the key astray, sir--I'll run and look for it, if you -please, sir." - -"God bless you," murmured Larry, with fervent gratitude. - -"Hand me that bunch of keys from under your apron," said Blarden, "ten -to one we'll find some one among them that'll open it." - -"There's no use in trying, sir," replied the girl, very much alarmed, -"it's a pitiklar soart of a lock, and has a pitiklar key--you'll -ruinate it, sir, if you go for to think to open it with a key that -don't fit it, so you will--I'll run and look for it if you please, -sir." - -"Give me that bunch of keys, young woman; give them, I tell you," -exclaimed Blarden. - -Thus constrained, she reluctantly gave the keys, and among them the -identical one to whose kind offices Mr. O'Toole owed his present -dignified privacy. - -"Come in here, Chancey," said Mr. Blarden, addressing that gentleman, -who happened at that moment to be crossing the hall--"take these keys -here and try if any of them will pick that lock." - -Chancey accordingly took the keys, and mounting languidly upon a chair, -began his operations. - -It were not easy to describe Mr. Toole's emotions as these proceedings -were going forward--some of the keys would not go in at all--others -went in with great difficulty, and came out with as much--some entered -easily, but refused to turn, and during the whole of these various -attempts upon his "dungeon keep," his mental agonies grew momentarily -more and more intense, so much so that he was repeatedly prompted to -precipitate the _denouement_, by shouting his confession from within. -His heart failed him, however, and his resolution grew momentarily -feebler and more feeble--he would have given worlds at that moment that -he could have shrunk into the pickle-pot, whose contents were then -streaming down his back--gladly would he have compounded for escape at -the price of being metamorphosed for ever into a gherkin. His prayers -were, however, unanswered, and he felt his inevitable fate momentarily -approaching. - -"This one will do it--I declare to God I have it at last," drawled -Chancey, looking lazily at a key which he held in his hand; and then -applying it, it found its way freely into the key-hole. - -"Bravo, Gordy, by ----," cried Blarden, "I never knew you fail -yet--you're as cute as a pet fox, you are." - -Mr. Blarden had hardly finished this flattering eulogium, when Chancey -turned the key in the lock: with astonishing violence the doors burst -open, and Larry Toole, Mr. Chancey, and the chair on which he was -mounted, descended with the force of a thunderbolt on the floor. In -sheer terror, Chancey clutched the interesting stranger by the throat, -and Larry, in self-defence, bit the lawyer's thumb, which had by a -trifling inaccuracy entered his mouth, and at the same time, with both -his hands, dragged his nose in a lateral direction until it had -attained an extraordinary length and breadth. In equal terror and -torment the two combatants rolled breathless along the floor; the -charming Betsy Carey screamed murder, robbery, and fire--while Ashwoode -and Blarden both started to their feet in the extremest amazement. - -"How the devil did you get into that press?" exclaimed Ashwoode, as -soon as the rival athletes had been separated and placed upon their -feet, addressing Larry Toole. - -"Oh! the robbing villain," ejaculated Mistress Betsy Carey--"don't -suffer nor allow him to speak--bring him to the pump, gentlemen--oh! -the lying villain--kick him out, Mr. Chancey--thump him, Sir -Henry--don't spare him, Mr. Blarden--turn him out, gentlemen all--he's -quite aperiently a robber--oh! blessed hour, but it's I that ought to -be thankful--what in the world wide would I do if he came powdering -down on me, the overbearing savage!" - -"Och! murder--the cruelty iv women!" ejaculated Larry, -reproachfully--"oh! murdher, beautiful Betsy." - -"Don't be talking to me, you sneaking, skulking villain," cried -Mistress Carey, vehemently, "you must have stole the key, so you must, -and locked yourself up, you frightful baste. For goodness gracious -sake, gentlemen, don't keep him talking here--he's dangerous--the -Turk." - -"Oh! the villainy iv women!" repeated Larry, with deep pathos. - -A brief cross-examination of Mistress Carey and of Larry Toole sufficed -to convict the fair maiden of her share in concealing the prisoner. - -"Now, Mr. Toole," said Ashwoode, addressing that personage, "you have -been once before turned out of this house for misconduct--I tell you, -that if you do not make good use of your time, and run as fast as your -best exertions will enable you, you shall have abundant reason to -repent it, for in five minutes more I will set the dogs after you; and -if ever I find you here again, I will have you ducked in the horse-pond -for a full hour--depart, sirrah--away--run." - -Larry did not require any more urgent remonstrances to induce him to -expedite his retreat--he made a contrite bow to Sir Henry--cast a look -of melancholy reproach at the beautiful Betsy, who, with a heightened -colour, was withdrawing from the scene, and then with sudden -nimbleness, effected his retreat. - -"The fellow," said Ashwoode, "is a servant of that O'Connor, whom I -mentioned to you. I do not think we shall ever have the pleasure of his -company again. I am glad the thing has happened, for it proves that we -cannot trust Carey." - -"That it does," echoed Blarden, with an oath. - -"Well, then, she shall take her departure hence before a week," -rejoined Ashwoode. "We shall see about her successor without loss of -time. So much for Mistress Carey." - - - - -CHAPTER LI. - -FLORA GUY. - - -"Why, I thought you had done for that fellow, that O'Connor," exclaimed -Blarden, after he had carefully closed the door. "I thought you had -pinked him through and through like a riddle--isn't he dead--didn't you -settle him?" - -"So I thought myself, but some troublesome people have the art of -living through what might have killed a hundred," rejoined Ashwoode; -"and I do not at all like this servant of his privately coming here, to -hold conference with my sister's maid--it looks suspicious; if it be, -however, as I suspect, I have effectually countermined them." - -"Well, then," replied Blarden, with an oath, "at all events we must set -to work now in earnest." - -"The first thing to be done is to find a substitute for the girl whom I -am about to dismiss," said Ashwoode, "we must select carefully, one -whom we can rely upon--do _you_ choose her?" - -"Why, I'm no great judge of such cattle," rejoined Blarden. "But here's -Chancey that understands them. I stake this ring to a sixpence he has -one in his eye this very minute that'll fit our purpose to a hair--what -do you say, Gordy, boy--can you hit on the kind of wench we want--eh, -you old sly boots?" - -Chancey sat sleepily before the fire, and a languid, lazy smile -expanded his sallow sensual face as he gazed at the bars of the grate. - -"Are you tongue-tied, or what?" exclaimed Blarden; "speak out--can you -find us such a one as we want? she must be a regular knowing devil, and -no mistake--as sly as yourself--a dead hand at a scheming game like -this--a deep one." - -"Well, maybe I do," drawled Chancey, "I think I know a girl that would -do, but maybe you'd think her too bad." - -"She can't be too bad for the work we want her for--what the devil do -you mean by BAD?" exclaimed Blarden. - -"Well," continued Chancey, disregarding the last interrogatory, "she's -Flora Guy, she attends in the 'Old Saint Columbkil,' a very arch little -girl--I think she'll do to a nicety." - -"Use your own judgment, I leave it all to you," said Blarden, "only get -one at once, do you mind, you know the sort we want." - -"I suppose she can't come any sooner than to-morrow, she must have -notice," said Chancey, "but I'll go in there to-day if you like, and -talk to her about it; I'll have her out with you here to-morrow to a -certainty, an' I declare to G---- she's a very smart little girl." - -"Do so," said Ashwoode, "and the sooner the better." - -Chancey arose, stuffed his hands into his breeches pockets according to -his wont, and with a long yawn lounged out of the room. - -"Do you keep out of the way after this evening," continued Sir Henry, -addressing himself to Blarden; "I will tell her that you are to leave -us this night, and that your visit ends; this will keep her quiet until -all is ready, and then she must be tractable." - -"Do you run and find her, then," said Blarden, "and tell her that I'm -off for town this evening--tell her at once--and mind, bring me word -what she says--off with you, doctor--ho, ho, ho!--mind, bring me word -what she says--do you hear?" - -With this pleasant charge ringing in his ears, Sir Henry Ashwoode -departed upon his honourable mission. - -Chancey strolled listlessly into town, and after an easy ramble, at -length found himself safe and sound once more beneath the roof of the -'Old Saint Columbkil.' He walked through the dingy deserted benches and -tables of the old tavern, and seating himself near the hearth, called a -greasy waiter who was dozing in a corner. - -"Tim, I'm rayther dry to-day, Timothy," said Mr. Chancey, addressing -the functionary, who shambled up to him more than half asleep; "what -will you recommend, Timothy--what do you think of a pot of light ale?" - -"Pint or quart?" inquired Tim shortly. - -"Well, we'll say a pint to begin with, Timothy," said Chancey, meekly; -"and do you see, Timothy, if Miss Flora Guy is on the tap; I wish she -would bring it to me herself--do you mind, Timothy?" - -Tim nodded and departed, and in a few minutes a brisk step was heard, -and a neat, good-humoured looking wench approached Mr. Chancey, and -planted a pint pot of ale before him. - -"Well, my little girl," said Chancey, with the quiet dignity of a -patron, "would you like to get a fine situation in a baronet's family, -my dear; to be own maid to a baronet's sister, where they eat off of -silver every day in the week, and have more money than you or I could -count in a twelve-month?" - -"Where's the good of liking it, Mr. Chancey?" replied the girl, -laughing; "it's time enough to be thinking of it when I get the offer." - -"Well, you _have_ the offer this minute, my little girl," rejoined -Chancey; "I have an elegant place for you--upon my conscience I -have--up at Morley Court, with Sir Henry Ashwoode; he's a baronet, -dear, and you're to be own maid to Miss Mary Ashwoode." - -"It can't be the truth you're telling me," said the girl, in unfeigned -amazement. - -"I declare to G--d, and upon my soul, it is the plain truth," drawled -Chancey; "Sir Henry Ashwoode, the baronet, asked me to recommend a -tidy, sprightly little girl, to be own maid to his elegant, fine -sister, and I recommended you--I declare to G--d but I did, and I come -in to-day from the baronet's house to hire you, so I did." - -"Well, an' is it in airnest you are?" said the girl. - -"What I'm telling you is the rale truth," rejoined Chancey: "I declare -to G--d upon my soul and conscience, and I wouldn't swear that in a -lie, if you like to take the place you can get it." - -"Well, well, after _that_--why, my fortune's made," cried the girl, in -ecstasies. - -"It is _so_, indeed, my little girl," rejoined Chancey; "your fortune's -made, sure enough." - -"An' my dream's out, too; for I was dreaming of nothing but washing, -and that's a sure sign of a change, all the live-long night," cried -she, "washing linen, and such lots of it, all heaped up; well, I'm a -sharp dreamer--ain't I, though?" - -"You will take it, then?" inquired Chancey. - -"_Will_ I--maybe I won't," rejoined she. - -"Well, come out to-morrow," said Chancey. - -"I can't to-morrow," replied she; "for all the table-cloth is to be -done, an' I would not like to disappoint the master after being with -him so long." - -"Well, can you next day?" - -"I can," replied she; "tell me where it is." - -"Do you know Tony Bligh's public--the old 'Bleeding Horse?'" inquired -he. - -"I do--right well," she rejoined with alacrity. - -"They'll direct you there," said Chancey; "ask for the manor of Morley -Court; it's a great old brick house, you can see it a mile away, and -whole acres of wood round it--it's a wonderful fine place, so it is; -remember it's Sir Henry himself you're to see when you go there; an' do -you mind what I'm saying to you, if I hear that you were talking and -prating about the place here to the chaps that's idling about, or to -old Pottles, or the sluts of maids, or, in short, to anyone at all, -good or bad, you'll be sure to lose the situation; so mind my advice, -like a good little girl, and don't be talking to any of them about -where you're going; for it wouldn't look respectable for a baronet to -be hiring his servants out of a tavern--do you mind me, dear." - -"Oh, never fear me, Mr. Chancey," she rejoined; "I'll not say a word to -a living soul; but I hope there's no fear the place will be taken -before me, by not going to-morrow." - -"Oh! dear me! no fear at all, I'll keep it open for you; now be a good -girl, and remember, don't disappoint." - -So saying he drained his pot of ale to the last drop, and took his -departure in the pleasing conviction that he had secured the services -of a fitting instrument to carry out the infernal schemes of his -employers. - - - - -CHAPTER LII. - -OF MARY ASHWOODE'S WALK TO THE LONESOME WELL--AND OF WHAT SHE SAW -THERE--AND SHOWING HOW SCHEMES OF PERIL BEGAN TO CLOSE AROUND HER. - - -On the following evening, Mary Ashwoode, in the happy conviction that -Nicholas Blarden was far away, and for ever removed from her -neighbourhood, walked forth at the fall of the evening unattended, to -ramble among the sequestered, but now almost leafless woods, which -richly ornamented the old place. Through sloping woodlands, among the -stately trees and wild straggling brushwood, now densely crowded -together, and again opening in broad vistas and showing the level -sward, and then again enclosing her amid the gnarled and hoary trunks -and fantastic boughs, all touched with the mellow golden hue of the -rich lingering light of evening, she wandered on, now treading the -smooth sod among the branching roots, now stepping from mossy stone to -stone across the wayward brook--now pausing on a gentle eminence to -admire the glowing sky and the thin haze of evening, mellowing all the -distant shadowy outlines of the landscape; and by all she saw at every -step beguiled into forgetfulness of the distance to which she had -wandered. - -She now approached what had been once a favourite spot with her. In a -gentle slope, and almost enclosed by wooded banks, was a small clear -well, an ancient lichen-covered arch enclosed it; and all around in -untended wildness grew the rugged thorn and dwarf oak, crowding around -it with a friendly pressure, and embowering its dark clear waters with -their ivy-clothed limbs; close by it stood a tall and graceful ash, and -among its roots was placed a little rustic bench where, in happier -times, Mary had often sat and read through the pleasant summer hours; -and now, alas! there was the little seat and there the gnarled roots -and the hoary stems of the wild trees, and the graceful ivy clusters, -and the time-worn mossy arch that vaulted the clear waters bubbling so -joyously beneath; how could she look on these old familiar friends, and -not feel what all who with changed hearts and altered fortunes revisit -the scenes of happier times are doomed to feel? - -For a moment she paused and stood lost in vain and bitter regrets by -the old well-side. Her reverie was, however, soon and suddenly -interrupted by the sound of something moving among the brittle -brushwood close by; she looked quickly in the direction of the noise, -and though the light had now almost entirely failed, she yet -discovered, too clearly to be mistaken, the head and shoulders of -Nicholas Blarden, as he pushed his way among the bushes toward the very -spot where she stood. With an involuntary cry of terror she turned, and -running at her utmost speed, retraced her steps toward the old mansion; -not daring even to look behind her, she pursued her way among the -deepening shadows of the old trees with the swiftness of terror; and, -as she ran, her fears were momentarily enhanced by the sound of heavy -foot-falls in pursuit, accompanied by the loud short breathing of one -exerting his utmost speed. On--on she flew with dizzy haste; the -distance seemed interminable, and her exhaustion was such that she felt -momentarily tempted to forego the hopeless effort, and surrender -herself to the mercy of her pursuer. At length she approached the old -house--the sounds behind her abated; she thought she heard hoarse -volleys of muttered imprecations, but not hazarding even a look behind, -she still held on her way, and at length, almost wild with fear, -entered the hall and threw herself sobbing into her brother's arms. - -"Oh God! brother; he's here; am I safe?" and she burst into hysterical -sobs. - -As soon as she was a little calmed, he asked her,-- - -"What has alarmed you, Mary; what have you seen to agitate you so?" - -"Oh! brother; have you deceived me; _is_ that fearful man still an -inmate of the house?" she said. - -"No; I tell you no," replied Ashwoode, "he's gone; his visit ended with -yesterday evening; he's fifty miles away by this time; tut--tut--folly, -child; you must not be so fanciful." - -"Well, brother, _he_ has deceived _you_," she rejoined, with the -earnestness of terror; "he is _not_ gone; he is about this place; so -surely as you stand there, I saw him; and, O God! he pursued me, and -had my strength faltered for a moment, or my foot slipped, I should -have been in his power;" she leaned down her head and clasped her hands -across her eyes, as if to exclude some image of horror. - -"This is mere raving, child," said Ashwoode, "the veriest folly; I tell -you the man is gone; you heard, if anything at all, a dog or a hare -springing through the leaves, and your imagination supplied the rest. I -tell you, once for all, that Blarden is threescore good miles away." - -"Brother, as surely as I see you, I saw him this night," she replied. -"I could not be mistaken; I saw him, and for several seconds before I -could move, such was the palsy of terror that struck me. I saw him, and -watched him advancing towards me--gracious heaven! for while I could -reckon ten; and then, as I fled, he still pursued; he was so near that -I actually heard his panting, as well as the tread of his -feet;--brother--brother--there was no mistake; there _could_ be none in -this." - -"Well, be it so, since you will have it," replied Ashwoode, trying to -laugh it off; "you have seen his _fetch_--I think they call it so. I'll -not dispute the matter with you; but this I will aver, that his -corporeal presence is removed some fifty miles from hence at this -moment; take some tea and get you to bed, child; you have got a fit of -the vapours; you'll laugh at your own foolish fancies to-morrow -morning." - - -That night Sir Henry Ashwoode, Nicholas Blarden, and their worthy -confederate, Gordon Chancey, were closeted together in earnest and -secret consultation in the parlour. - -"Why did you act so rashly--what could have possessed you to follow the -girl?" asked Ashwoode, "you have managed one way or another so -thoroughly to frighten the girl, to make her so fear and avoid you, -that I entirely despair, by fair means, of ever inducing her to listen -to your proposals." - -"Well, that does not take me altogether by surprise," said Blarden, -"for I have been suspecting so much this many a day; we must then go to -work in right earnest at once." - -"What measures shall we take?" said Ashwoode. - -"What measures!" echoed Blarden; "well, confound me if I know what to -begin with, there's such a lot of them, and all good--what do you say, -Gordy?" - -"You ought to ask her to marry you off-hand," said Chancey, demurely, -but promptly; "and if she refuses, let her be locked up, and treat her -as if she was _mad_--do you mind; and I'll go to Patrick's-close, and -bring out old Shycock, the clergyman; and the minute she strikes, you -can be coupled; she'll give in very soon, you'll find; little Ebenezer -will do whatever we bid him, and swear whatever we like; we'll all -swear that you and she are man and wife already; and when she denies -it, threaten her with the mad-house; and then we'll see if she won't -come round; and you must first send away the old servants--every -mother's skin of them--and get _new_ ones instead; and that's my -advice." - -"It's not bad, either," said Blarden, knitting his brows twice or -thrice, and setting his teeth. "I like that notion of threatening her -with Bedlam; it's a devilish good idea; and I'll give long odds it will -work wonders; what do you say, Ashwoode?" - -"Choose your own measures," replied the baronet. "I'm incapable of -advising you." - -"Well, then, Gordy, that's the go," said Blarden; "bring out his -reverence whenever I tip you the signal; and he shall have board and -lodging until the job's done; he'll make a tip-top domestic chaplain; I -suppose we'll have family prayers while he stays--eh?--ho, -ho!--devilish good idea, that; and Chancey'll act clerk--eh? won't you, -Gordy?" and, tickled beyond measure at the facetious suggestion, Mr. -Blarden laughed long and lustily. - -"I suppose I may as well keep close until our private chaplain arrives, -and the new waiting-maid," said Blarden; "and as soon as all is ready, -I'll blaze out in style, and I'll tell you what, Ashwoode, a precious -good thought strikes me; turn about you know is fair play; and as I'm -fifty miles away to-day, it occurs to me it would be a deuced good plan -to have _you_ fifty miles away to-morrow--eh?--we could manage matters -better if you were supposed out of the way, and that she knew I had the -whole command of the house, and everything in it; she'd be a cursed -deal more frightened; what do you think?" - -"Yes, I entirely agree with you," said Ashwoode, eagerly catching at a -scheme which would relieve him of all prominent participation in the -infamous proceedings--an exemption which, spite of his utter -selfishness, he gladly snatched at. "I will do so. I will leave the -house in reality." - -"No--no; my tight chap, not so fast," rejoined Blarden, with a savage -chuckle. "I'd rather have my eye on you, if you please; just write her -a letter, dated from Dublin, and say you're obliged to go anywhere you -please for a month or so; she'll not find you out, for we'll not let -her out of her room; and now I think everything is settled to a turn, -and we may as well get under the blankets at once, and be stirring -betimes in the morning." - - - - -CHAPTER LIII. - -THE DOUBLE FAREWELL. - - -Next day Mistress Betsy Carey bustled into her young mistress's chamber -looking very red and excited. - -"Well, ma'am," said she, dropping a short indignant courtesy, "I'm come -to bid you good-bye, ma'am." - -"How--what can you mean, Carey?" said Mary Ashwoode. - -"I hope them as comes after me," continued the handmaiden, vehemently, -"will strive to please you in all pints and manners as well as them -that's going." - -"Going!" echoed Mary; "why, this can't be--there must be some great -mistake here." - -"No mistake at all, ma'am, of any sort or description; the master has -just paid up my wages, and gave me my discharge," rejoined the maid. -"Oh, the ingratitude of some people to their servants is past bearing, -so it is." - -And so saying, Mistress Carey burst into a passion of tears. - -"There _is_ some mistake in all this, my poor Carey," said the young -lady; "I will speak to my brother about it immediately; don't cry so." - -"Oh! my lady, it ain't for myself I'm crying; the blessed saints in -heaven knows it ain't," cried the beautiful Betsy, glancing -devotionally upward through her tears; "not at all and by no means, -ma'am, it's all for other people, so it is, my lady; oh! ma'am, you -don't know the badness and the villainy of people, my lady." - -"Don't cry so, Carey," replied Mary Ashwoode, "but tell me frankly what -fault you have committed--let me know why my brother has discharged -you." - -"Just because he thinks I'm too fond of you, my lady, and too honest -for what's going on," cried she, drying her eyes in her apron with -angry vehemence, and speaking with extraordinary sharpness and -volubility; "because I saw Mr. O'Connor's man yesterday--and found out -that the young gentleman's letters used to be stopped by the old -master, God rest him, and Sir Henry, and all kinds of false letters -written to him and to you by themselves, to breed mischief between you. -I never knew the reason before, why in the world it was the master used -to make me leave every letter that went between you, for a day or more -in his keeping. Heaven be his bed; I was too innocent for them, my -lady; we were both of us too simple; oh dear! oh dear! it's a quare -world, my lady. And that wasn't all--but who do you think I meets -to-day skulking about the house in company with the young master, but -Mr. Blarden, that we all thought, glory be to God, was I don't know how -far off out of the place; and so, my lady, because them things has come -to my knowledge, and because they knowed in their hearts, so they did, -that I'd rayther be crucified than hide as much as the black of my nail -from you, my lady, they put me away, thinking to keep you in the dark. -Oh! but it's a dangerous, bad world, so it is--to put me out of the way -of tellin' you whatever I knowed; and all I'm hoping for is, that them -that's coming in my room won't help the mischief, and try to blind you -to what's going on;" hereupon she again burst into a flood of tears. - -"Good God," said Mary Ashwoode, in the low tones of horror, and with a -face as pale as marble, "_is_ that dreadful man here--have you seen -him?" - -"Yes, my lady, seen and talked with him, my lady, not ten minutes -since," replied the maid, "and he gave me a guinea, and told me not to -let on that I seen him--he did--but he little knew who he was speaking -to--oh! ma'am, but it's a terrible shocking bad world, so it is." - -Mary Ashwoode leaned her head upon her hand in fearful agitation. This -ruffian, who had menaced and insulted and pursued her, a single glance -at whose guilty and frightful aspect was enough to warn and terrify, -was in league and close alliance with her own brother to entrap and -deceive her--Heaven only could know with what horrible intent. - -"Carey, Carey," said the pale and affrighted lady, "for God's sake send -my brother--bring him here--I must see Sir Henry, your master--quickly, -Carey--for God's sake quickly." - -The young lady again leaned her head upon her hand and became silent; -so the lady's maid dried her eyes, and left the room to execute her -mission. - -The apartment in which Mary Ashwoode was now seated, was a small -dressing-room or boudoir, which communicated with her bed-chamber, and -itself opened upon a large wainscotted lobby, surrounded with doors, -and hung with portraits, too dingy and faded to have a place in the -lower rooms. She had thus an opportunity of hearing any step which -ascended the stairs, and waited, in breathless expectation, for the -sounds of her brother's approach. As the interval was prolonged her -impatience increased, and again and again she was tempted to go down -stairs and seek him herself; but the dread of encountering Blarden, and -the terror in which she held him, kept her trembling in her room. At -length she heard two persons approach, and her heart swelled almost to -bursting, as, with excited anticipation, she listened to their advance. - -"Here's the room for you at last," said the voice of an old female -servant, who forthwith turned and departed. - -"I thank you kindly, ma'am," said the second voice, also that of a -female, and the sentence was immediately followed by a low, timid knock -at the chamber door. - -"Come in," said Mary Ashwoode, relieved by the consciousness that her -first fears had been delusive--and a good-looking wench, with rosy -cheeks, and a clear, good-humoured eye, timidly and hesitatingly -entered the room, and dropped a bashful courtesy. - -"Who are you, my good girl, and what do you want with me?" inquired -Mary, gently. - -"I'm the new maid, please your ladyship, that Sir Henry Ashwoode hired, -if it pleases you, ma'am, instead of the young woman that's just gone -away," replied she, her eyes staring wider and wider, and her cheeks -flushing redder and redder every moment, while she made another -courtesy more energetic than the first. - -"And what is your name, my good girl?" inquired Mary. - -"Flora Guy, may it please your ladyship," replied the newcomer, with -another courtesy. - -"Well, Flora," said her new mistress, "have you ever been in service -before?" - -"No, ma'am, if you please," replied she, "unless in the old Saint -Columbkil." - -"The old Saint Columbkil," rejoined Mary. "What is that, my good girl?" - -The ignorance implied in this question was so incredibly absurd, that -spite of all her fears and all her modesty, the girl smiled, and looked -down upon the floor, and then coloured to the eyes at her own -presumption. - -"It's the great wine-tavern and eating-house, ma'am, in Ship Street, if -you please," rejoined she. - -"And who hired you?" inquired Mary, in undisguised surprise. - -"It was Mr. Chancey, ma'am--the lawyer gentleman, please your -ladyship," answered she. - -"Mr. Chancey!--I never heard of him before," said the young lady, more -and more astonished. "Have you seen Sir Henry--my brother?" - -"Oh! yes, my lady, if you please--I saw him and the other gentleman -just before I came upstairs, ma'am," replied the maid. - -"What other gentleman?" inquired Mary, faintly. - -"I think Sir Henry was the young gentleman in the frock suit of -sky-blue and silver, ma'am--a nice young gentleman, ma'am--and there -was another gentleman, my lady, with him; he had a plum-coloured suit -with gold lace; he spoke very loud, and cursed a great deal; a large -gentleman, my lady, with a very red face, and one of his teeth out. I -seen him once in the tap-room. I remembered him the minute I set eyes -on him, but I can't think of his name. He came in, my lady, with that -young lord--I forget _his_ name, too--that was ruined with play and -dicing, my lady; and they had a quart of mulled sack--it was I that -brought it to them--and I remembered the red-faced gentleman very well, -for he was turning round over his shoulder, and putting out his tongue, -making fun of the young lord--because he was tipsy--and winking to his -own friends." - -"What did my brother--Sir Henry--your master--what did he say to you -just now?" inquired Mary, faintly, and scarcely conscious what she -said. - -"He gave me a bit of a note to your ladyship," said the girl, fumbling -in the profundity of her pocket for it, "just as soon as he put the -other girl--her that's gone, my lady--into the chaise--here it is, -ma'am, if you please." - -Mary took the letter, opened it hurriedly, and with eyes unsteady with -agitation, read as follows:-- - - "MY DEAR MARY,--I am compelled to fly as fast as horseflesh can - carry me, to escape arrest and the entire loss of whatever little - chance remains of averting ruin. I don't see you before leaving - this--my doing so were alike painful to us both--perhaps I shall be - here again by the end of a month--at all events, you shall hear of - me some time before I arrive. I have had to discharge Carey for - very ill-conduct I have not time to write fully now. I have hired - in her stead the bearer, Flora Guy, a very respectable, good girl. - I shall have made at least two miles away in my flight before you - read this. Perhaps you had better keep within your own room, for - Mr. Blarden will shortly be here to look after matters in my - absence. I have hardly a moment to scratch this line. - - "Always your attached brother, - - "HENRY ASHWOODE." - -Her eye had hardly glanced through this production when she ran wildly -toward the door; but, checking herself before she reached it, she -turned to the girl, and with an earnestness of agony which thrilled to -her very heart, she cried,-- - -"Is he gone? tell me, as you hope for mercy, is he--_is_ he gone?" - -"Who, who is it, my lady?" inquired the girl, a good deal startled. - -"My brother--my brother: is he gone?" cried she more wildly still. - -"I seen him riding away very fast on a grey horse, my lady," said the -maid, "not five minutes before I came up stairs." - -"Then it's too late. God be merciful to me! I am lost, I have none to -guard me; I have none to help me--don't--don't leave me; for God's sake -don't leave the room for one instant----" - -There was an imploring earnestness of entreaty in the young lady's -accents and manner, and a degree of excited terror in her dilated eyes -and pale face, which absolutely affrighted the attendant. - -"No, my lady," said she, "I won't leave you, I won't indeed, my lady." - -"Oh! my poor girl," said Mary, "you little know the griefs and fears of -her you've come to serve. I fear me you have changed your lot, however -hard before, much for the worst in coming here; never yet did creature -need a friend so much as I; and never was one so friendless before," -and thus speaking, poor Mary Ashwoode leaned forward and wept so -bitterly that the girl was almost constrained to weep too for very -pity. - -"Don't take it to heart so much, my lady; don't cry. I'll do my best, -my lady, to serve you well; indeed I will, my lady, and true and -faithful," said the poor damsel, approaching timidly but kindly to her -young mistress's side. "I'll not leave you, my lady; no one shall harm -you nor hurt a hair of your head; I'll stay with you night and day as -long as you're pleased to keep me, my lady, and don't cry; sure you -won't, my lady?" - -So the poor girl in her own simple way strove to comfort and encourage -her desolate mistress. - -It is a wonderful and a beautiful thing how surely, spite of every -difference of rank and kind and forms of language, the words of -kindness and of sympathy--be they the rudest ever spoken, if only they -flow warm from the heart of a fellow-mortal--will gladden, comfort, and -cheer the sorrow-stricken spirit. Mary felt comforted and assured. - -"Do you be but true to me; stay by my side in this season of my sorest -trouble; and may God reward you as richly as I would my poor means -could," said Mary, with the same intense earnestness of entreaty. -"There is kindness and truth in your face. I am sure you will not -deceive me." - -"Deceive you, my lady! God forbid," said the poor maid, earnestly; "I'd -die before I'd deceive you; only tell me how to serve you, my lady, and -it will be a hard thing that I won't do for you." - -"There is no need to conceal from you what, if you do not already know, -you soon must," said Mary, speaking in a low tone, as if fearful of -being overheard; "that red-faced man you spoke of, that talked so loud -and swore so much, that man I fear--fear him more than ever yet I -dreaded any living thing--more than I thought I _could_ fear anything -earthly--him, this Mr. Blarden, we must avoid." - -"Blarden--Mr. Blarden," said the maid, while a new light dawned upon -her mind. "I could not think of his name--Nicholas Blarden--Tommy, that -is one of the waiters in the 'Columbkil,' my lady, used to call him -'red ruin.' I know it all now, my lady; it's he that owns the great -gaming house near High Street, my lady; and another in Smock Alley; I -heard Mr. Pottles say he could buy and sell half Dublin, he's mighty -rich, but everyone says he's a very bad man: I couldn't think of his -name, and I remember everything about him now; it's all found out. Oh! -dear--dear; then it's all a lie; just what I thought, every bit from -beginning to end--nothing else but a lie. Oh, the villain!" - -"What lie do you speak of?" asked Mary; "tell me." - -"Oh, the villain!" repeated the girl. "I wish to God, my lady, you were -safe out of this house----" - -"What is it?" urged Mary, with fearful eagerness; "what lie did you -speak of? what makes you now think my danger greater?" - -"Oh! my lady, the lies, the horrible lies he told me to-day, when Sir -Henry and himself were hiring me," replied she. "Oh! my lady, I'm sure -you are not safe here----" - -"For God's sake tell me plainly, what did they say?" repeated Mary. - -"Oh, ma'am, what do you think he told me? As sure as you're sitting -there, he told me he was a mad-doctor," replied she; "and he said, my -lady, how that you were not in your right mind, and that he had the -care of you; and, oh, my God, my lady, he told me never to be -frightened if I heard you crying out and screaming when he was alone -with you, for that all mad people was the same way----" - -"And was Sir Henry present when he told you this?" said Mary, scarce -articulately. - -"He was, my lady," replied she, "and I thought he turned pale when the -red-faced man said that; but he did not speak, only kept biting his -lips and saying nothing." - -"Then, indeed, my case is hopeless," said Mary, faintly, while all -expression, save that of vacant terror, faded from her face; "give me -some counsel--advise me, for God's sake, in this terrible hour. What -shall I do?" - -"Ah, my lady, I wish to the blessed saints I could," rejoined the girl; -"haven't you some friends in Dublin; couldn't I go for them?" - -"No--no," said she, hastily, "you must not leave me; but, thank God, -you have advised me well. I have one friend, and indeed only one, in -Dublin, whom I may rely upon, my uncle, Major O'Leary; I will write to -him." - -She sat down, and with cold trembling hands traced the hurried lines -which implored his succour; she then rang the bell. After some delay it -was answered by a strange servant; and, after a few brief inquiries, to -her unutterable horror she learned that all who remained of the old -faithful servants of the family had been dismissed, and persons whose -faces she had never seen before, hired in their stead. - -These were prompt and decisive measures, and ominously portended some -sinister catastrophe; the whole establishment reduced to a few -strangers, and--as she had too much reason to fear--tools and creatures -of the wretch Blarden. Having ascertained these facts, Mary Ashwoode, -without giving the letter to the man, dismissed him with some trivial -direction, and turning to her maid, said,-- - -"You see how it is; I am beset by enemies; may God protect and save me; -what shall I do? my mind--my senses, will forsake me. Merciful heaven! -what will become of me?" - -"Shall I take it myself, my lady?" inquired the maid. - -Mary raised herself eagerly, but with sudden dejection, said,-- - -"No--no; it cannot be; you must not leave me. I could not bear to be -alone here; besides, they must not think you are my friend; no, no, it -cannot be." - -"Well, my lady," said the maid decisively, "we'll leave the house -to-night; they'll not be on their guard against that, and once beyond -the walls, you're safe." - -"It is, I believe, the only chance of safety left me," replied Mary, -distractedly; "and, as such, it shall be tried." - - - - -CHAPTER LIV. - -THE TWO CHANCES--THE BRIBED COURIER. - - -"I don't half like the girl you've picked up," said Nicholas Blarden, -addressing his favourite parasite, Chancey; "she don't look half sharp -enough for our work; she hasn't the cut of a town lass about her; she's -too like a milk-maid, too simple, too soft. I've confounded misgivings -she's no schemer." - -"Well, well--dear me, but you're very suspicious," said Chancey. "I'd -like to know did ever anything honest come out of the 'Old Saint -Columbkil!' there wasn't a sharper little wench in the place than -herself, and I'll tell you that's a big word--no, no; there's not an -inch of the fool about her." - -"Well, she can't do us much mischief anyway," said Blarden; "the three -others are as true as steel--the devil's own chickens; and mind you -don't let the door-keys out of your pocket. Honour's all very fine, and -ought not to be doubted; but there's nothing to my mind like a stiff -bit of a rusty lock." - -Chancey smiled sleepily, and slapped the broad skirt of his coat twice -or thrice, producing therefrom the ringing clank which betoken the -presence of the keys in question. - -"So then we're all caged, by Jove," continued Blarden, rapturously; -"and very different sorts of game we are too: did you ever see the -show-box where the cats and the rats and the little birds are all boxed -up together, higgledy-piggledy, in the same wire cage. I can't but -think of it; it's so devilish like." - -"Well, well--dear me; I declare to God but you're a terrible funny -chap," said Chancey, enjoying a quiet chuckle; "but some way or -another," he continued, significantly, "I'm thinking the cat will have -a claw at the little bird yet." - -"Well, maybe it will;" rejoined Blarden, "you never knew one yet that -was not fond of a tit-bit when he could have it. Eh?" - -Thus playfully they conversed, seasoning their pleasantries with sack -and claret, and whatever else the cellars of Morley Court afforded, -until evening closed, and the darkness of night succeeded. - -Mary Ashwoode and her maid sat prepared for the execution of their -adventurous project; they had early left the outer room in which we saw -them last, and retired into her bedchamber to avoid suspicion; as the -night advanced they extinguished the lights, lest their gleaming -through the windows should betray the lateness of their vigil, and -alarm the fears of their persecutors. Thus, in silence and darkness, -not daring to speak, and almost afraid to breathe, they waited hour -after hour until long past midnight. The well-known sounds of riotous -swearing and horse-laughter, and the heavy trampling of feet, as the -half-drunken revellers staggered to their beds, now reached their ears -in noises faint and muffled by the distance. At length all was again -quiet, and nearly a whole hour of silence passed away ere they ventured -to move, almost to breathe. - -"Now, Flora, open the outer door softly," whispered Mary, "and listen -for any, the faintest sound; take off your shoes, and for your life -move noiselessly." - -"Never fear, my lady," responded the girl in a tone as low; and -slipping off her shoes from her feet, she pressed her hand upon the -young lady's wrist, to intimate silence, and glided into the little -boudoir. With sickening anxiety the young lady heard her cross the -small chamber, now and then stumbling against some pieces of furniture -and cautiously groping her way; at length the door-handle turned, and -then followed a silence. After an interval of a few seconds the girl -returned. - -"Well, Flora," whispered Mary, eagerly, as she approached, "is all -still?" - -"Oh! blessed hour! my lady, the door's locked on the outside," replied -the maid. - -"It can't be," said Mary Ashwoode, while her very heart sank within -her. "Oh! Flora, Flora--girl, don't say that." - -"It is indeed, my lady--as sure as I'm a living soul, it is so," -replied she fearfully; "and it was wide open when I came up. Oh! -blessed hour! my lady, what are we to do?" - -"I will try; I will see; perhaps you are mistaken. God grant you may -be," said the young lady, making her way to the door which opened on to -the lobby. She reached it--turned the handle--pressed it with all her -feeble strength, but in vain; it was indeed securely locked upon the -outside; her project of escape was baffled at the very outset, and with -a heart-sickening sense of terror and dismay--such as she had never -felt before--she returned with her attendant to her chamber. - -A night, sleepless, except for a few brief and fevered slumbers, -crowded with terrors, passed heavily away, and the morning found Mary -Ashwoode, pale, nervous, and feverish. She resolved, at whatever -hazard, to endeavour to induce one of the new servants to convey her -letter to Major O'Leary. The detection of this attempt could at worst -result in nothing worse than to precipitate whatever mischief Blarden -and his confederates had plotted, and which would if not so speedily, -at all events as surely overtake her, were no such attempt made. - -"Flora," said she, "I am resolved to try this chance, I fear me it is -but a poor one; you, however, my poor girl, must not be compromised -should it fail; you must not be exposed by your faithfulness to the -vengeance of these villains; do you go into the next room, and I will -try what may be done." - -So saying, she rang the bell, and in a few minutes it was answered by -the same man who had obeyed her summons on the day before. The man, -although arrayed in livery, had by no means the dapper air of a -professed footman, and possessed rather a villainous countenance than -otherwise; he stood at the door with one hand fumbling at the handle, -while he asked with an air half gruff and half awkward what she wanted. -She sat in silence for a minute like the enchanter whose spells have -been for the first time answered by the appearance of the familiar; too -much agitated and affrighted to utter her mandate; with a violent -effort she mastered her trepidation, and with an appearance of -self-possession and carelessness which she was far from feeling, she -said,-- - -"Can you, my good man, find a trusty messenger to carry a letter for me -to a friend in Dublin?" - -The man remained silent for some seconds, twisted his mouth into -several strange contortions, and looked very hard indeed at her. At -length he said, closing the door at the same time, and speaking in a -low key,-- - -"Well, I don't say but I _might_ find one, but there's a great many -things would make it very costly; maybe you could not afford to pay -him?" - -"I could--I would--see here," and she took a diamond ring from her -finger; "this is a diamond; it is of value--convey but this letter -safely and it is yours." - -The man took the ring from the table where she laid it, and examined it -curiously. - -"It's a pretty ring--it is," said he, removing it a little from his -eye, and turning it in different directions so as to make it flash and -sparkle in the light, "it _is_ a pretty ring, rayther small for my -fingers, though--it's a real diamond?" - -"It is indeed, valuable--worth forty pounds at least," she replied. - -"Well, then, here goes, it's worth a bit of a risk," and so saying he -deposited it carefully in a corner of his waistcoat pocket, "give me -the letter now, ma'am." - -She handed him the letter, and he thrust it into the deepest abyss of -his breeches pocket. - -"Deliver that letter but safely," said she, "and what I have given you -shall be but the earnest of what's to come, it is important--urgent--execute -but the mission truly, and I will not spare rewards." - -The man gave two short nods of huge significance, accompanied with a -slight grunt. - -"I say again, let me but have assurance that the message has been -done," repeated she, "and you shall have abundant reason to rejoice, -above all things dispatch--and--and--_secrecy_." - -The man winked very hard with one eye, and at the same time with his -crooked finger drew his nose so much on one side, that he seemed intent -on removing that feature into exile somewhere about the region of his -ear; and having performed this elegant and expressive pantomime for -several seconds, he stooped forward, and in an emphatic whisper said,-- - -"_Ne-ver fear._" - -He then opened the door and abruptly made his exit, leaving poor Mary -Ashwoode full of agitating hopes. - - - - -CHAPTER LV. - -THE FEARFUL VISITANT. - - -Two or three days had passed, during which Mary had ascertained the -fact that every door affording egress from the house was kept -constantly locked, and that the new servants, as well as Blarden and -his companions, were perpetually on the alert, and traversing the lower -apartments, so that even had the door of the mansion laid open it would -have been impossible to attempt an escape without encountering some one -of those whose chief object was to keep her in close confinement, -perhaps the very man from whose presence her inmost soul shrank in -terror--she felt, therefore, that she was as effectually and as -helplessly a prisoner as if she lay in the dungeons of a gaol. - -Often again had she endeavoured to see the man to whom she had confided -her letter to Major O'Leary, but in vain; her summons was invariably -answered by the others, and fearing to excite suspicion, she, of -course, did not inquire for him, and so, after a time, desisted from -her endeavours. - -Her window commanded a partial view of the old shaded avenue, and hour -after hour would she sit at her casement, watching in vain for the -longed-for appearance of her uncle, and listening, as fruitlessly, for -the clang of his horse's hoofs upon the stony court. - -"Oh! Flora, will he ever come?" she would exclaim, with a voice of -anguish, "will he ever--ever come to deliver me from this horrible -thraldom? I watch in vain, from the light of early dawn till darkness -comes--I watch in vain, for the welcome sight of my friend--in vain--in -vain I listen for the sound of his approach--heaven pity me, where shall -I turn for hope--all--all have forsaken me--all that ever I loved have -fallen from me, and left me desolate in this extremity--has he, too, my -last friend, forsaken me--will they leave me here to misery--oh, that -I might lay me down where head and heart are troubled no more, and be -at rest in the cold grave. He'll never come--no--no--no--never." - -Then she would wring her hands, still gazing from the casement, and -hopelessly sob and weep. - - -She knew not why it was that Nicholas Blarden had suffered her, for a -day or two, to be exempt from the dreaded intrusions of his hated -presence. But this afforded her little comfort; she knew not how -soon--at what moment--the monster might choose to present himself -before her under circumstances of horror so dreadful as those of her -present friendless and forsaken abandonment to his mercy--and when -these imminent fears were for an instant hushed, a thousand agonizing -thoughts, arising from the partial revelations of her late servant, -Carey, occupied her mind. That the correspondence between her and -O'Connor had been falsified--she dreaded, yet she hoped it might be -true--she feared, yet prayed it might be so--and while the thought that -others had wrought their estrangement, and that the coolness of -indifference had not touched the heart of him she so fondly loved -visited her mind, a thousand bright, but momentary hopes, fluttered her -poor heart, and, for an instant, her dangers and her fears were all -forgotten. - -The day had passed, and its broad, clear light had given place to the -red, dusky glow of sunset, when Mary Ashwoode heard the measured tread -of several persons approaching her room. With an instinctive -consciousness of her peril, she started to her feet, while every tinge -of colour fled entirely from her cheeks. - -"Flora--stay by me--oh, God, they are coming!" she said, and the words -had hardly escaped her lips, when the door of the boudoir, in which she -stood, was pushed open, and Nicholas Blarden, followed by Gordon -Chancey, entered the room. There was in the countenance of Blarden none -of his usual affectation of good humour; on the contrary, it wore a -scowl of undisguised and formidable menace, the effect of which was -enhanced by the baleful significance of the malignant glance which he -fixed upon her, and as he stood there biting his lips in ominous -silence, and gazing with savage, gloating eyes, upon the affrighted -girl, it were not easy to imagine an apparition more intimidating and -hideous. Even Chancey seemed a little uneasy in the anticipation of -what was coming, and the sallow face of the barrister looked more than -usually sallow, and his glittering eyes more glossy than ever. - -"Go out of the room, _you_--do you mind," said Blarden, grimly, -addressing Flora Guy, who had placed herself a little in advance of her -young mistress, and who stood mute and thunderstruck, looking upon the -two intruders--"are you palsied, or what--quit the room when I command -you, you brimstone fool;" and he clutched her by the shoulder, and -thrust her headlong out of the chamber, flinging the door to, with a -crash that made the walls ring again. - -"Listen to me and mind me, and weigh my words, or you'll rue it," said -he, with a tremendous oath, addressing himself to the speechless and -terrified lady. "I have a bit of information to give you, and then a -bit of advice after it; you must know it's my intention we shall be -married; mind me, _married_ to-morrow evening; I know you don't like -it; but _I_ do, and that's enough for my purpose; and whenever I make -my mind up to a thing, there is not that power in earth, or heaven, or -hell, to turn me from it. I was always considered a tough sort of a -chap when I was in earnest about anything; and I can tell you I'm -mighty well in earnest here; and now you may as well know how -completely I have you under my thumb; there is not a servant in the -house that does not belong to me; there is not a door in the house but -the key of it is in my keeping; there is not a word spoken in the house -but I hear it, nor a thing done that I don't know of it, and _here's -your letter for you_," he shouted, and flung her letter to Major -O'Leary open before her on the table. "How dare you tamper with my -servant's honesty? how _dare_ you?" thundered he, with a stamp upon the -floor which made the ornaments on the cabinet dance and jingle; "but -mind how you try it again--beware; mind how you offer to bribe them -again; I give you fair warning; you're my property now--to do what I -like with, just as much as my horse or my dog; and if you _won't_ obey -me, why I'll find a way to _make_ you; to-morrow evening I'll have a -parson here, and we'll be buckled; make no rout about it, and it will -be better for you, for whatever you do or say, if I had to get you into -a strait-waistcoat and clap a plaister over your mouth to keep you -quiet, married we shall be; husband and wife, and plenty of witnesses -to vouch for it; do you understand me, and no mistake; and if you're -foolish enough to make a row about it, I'll tell you what I'll do in -such a case," and he fixed his eyes with a still more horrible -expression upon her. "I have a particular friend, do you mind--a very -obliging, particular old friend that's a mad-doctor; do you hear me; -not a very lucky one to be sure, for he has made devilish few cures; a -mad-doctor, do you mind?--and I'll have him to reside here and -superintend your treatment; do you hear me? don't stand gaping there -like an idiot; do you hear me?" - -Blarden during this address had advanced into the room and stood by the -little table, leaning his knuckles upon it, and stooping forward and -advancing his menacing and hideous face, so as to diminish still -further the intervening distance, when, all on a sudden, like a -startled bird, she darted across the room, and ere they had time to -interpose, had opened the door, and was half-way across the lobby; she -passed Flora Guy, who was sobbing at the door with her apron to her -eyes, and at the head of the stairs beheld Sir Henry Ashwoode, no less -confounded at the rencounter than was she herself. - -"My brother! my brother!" she shrieked, and threw herself fainting into -his arms. - -Spite of all that was base in his character, the young man was so -shocked and confounded that he turned pale as death, and speech and -recollection for a moment forsook him. - -Almost at the same instant Chancey and Blarden were at his side. - -"What the devil ails you?" said Blarden, furiously, addressing -Ashwoode, "what do you stand there hugging her for, you white-faced -idiot?" - -Ashwoode's lips moved; but he could not speak, and the senseless burden -still lay in his arms. - -"Let her go, will you, you d----d oaf? take hold of the girl, Chancey, -and you, you idiot, come here and lend a hand; carry her into her room, -and mind, sweet lips, keep the key in your pocket; and if you want help -tatter the bells; get down, will you, you moon-struck fool?" he -continued, addressing Ashwoode; "what do you stand there for, with your -whitewashed face?" - -Ashwoode, scarcely knowing what he did, staggered down the stairs and -made his way to the parlour, where he sat gasping, with his face buried -in his hands. Meanwhile, with many a meek expression of pity, the -lawyer assisted Flora Guy in bearing the inanimate body of her mistress -into the chamber, where, in happy unconsciousness, she lay under the -tender care of her humble friend and servant. Blarden and Chancey -having accomplished the object of their mission, departed to the lower -regions to enjoy whatever good cheer Morley Court afforded. - - - - -CHAPTER LVI. - -EBENEZER SHYCOCK. - - -In pursuance of the arrangements which Mr. Blarden had, on the evening -before, announced to his intended victim, Gordon Chancey was despatched -early the next morning to engage the services of a clergyman for the -occasion. He knew pretty well how to choose his man, and for the most -part, when a plot was to be executed, in theatrical phrase, _cast_ the -parts well. He proceeded leisurely to the city, and sauntering through -the streets, found himself at length in Saint Patrick's Close; beneath -the shadow of the old Cathedral he turned down a narrow and deserted -lane and stopped before a dingy, miserable little shop, over whose -doorway hung a panel with the dusky and faded similitude of two great -keys crossed, now scarcely discernible through the ancient dust and -soot. The shop itself was a chaotic depository of old locks, holdfasts, -chisels, crowbars, and in short, of rusty iron in almost every -conceivable shape. Chancey entered this dusky shop, and accosting a -very grimed and rusty-looking little boy who was, with a file, -industriously employed in converting a kitchen candlestick into a -cannon, inquired,-- - -"I say, my good boy, does the Reverend Doctor Ebenezer Shycock stop -here yet?" - -"Aye, does he," said the youth, inspecting the visitor with a broad and -leisurely stare, while he wiped his forehead with his shirt sleeve. - -"Up the stairs, is it?" demanded Chancey. - -"Aye, the garrets," replied the boy. "And mind the hole in the top -lobby," he shouted after him, as he passed through the little door in -the back of the shop and began to ascend the narrow stairs. - -He did "mind the hole in the top lobby" (a very necessary caution, by -the way, as he might otherwise have been easily engulfed therein and -broken either his neck or his leg, after descending through the lath -and plaster, upon the floor of the landing-place underneath); and -having thus safely reached the garret door, he knocked thereupon with -his knuckles. - -"Come in," answered a female voice, not of the most musical quality, -and Chancey accordingly entered. A dirty, sluttish woman was sitting by -the window, knitting, and as it seemed, she was the only inmate of the -room. - -"Is the Reverend Ebenezer at home, my dear?" inquired the barrister. - -"He is, and he isn't," rejoined the female, oracularly. - -"How's that, my good girl?" inquired Chancey. - -"He's in the house, but he's not good for much," answered she. - -"Has he been throwing up the little finger, my dear?" said Chancey, "he -used to be rayther partial to brandy." - -"Brandy--brandy--who says brandy?" exclaimed a voice briskly from -behind a sheet which hung upon a string so as to screen off one corner -of the chamber. - -"Ay, ay, that's the word that'll waken you," said the woman. "Here's a -gentleman wants to speak with you." - -"The devil there is!" exclaimed the clerical worthy, abruptly, while -with a sudden chuck he dislodged the sheet which had veiled his -presence, and disclosed, by so doing, the form of a stout, short, -bull-necked man, with a mulberry-coloured face and twinkling grey -eyes--one of them in deep mourning. He wore a greasy red night-cap and -a very tattered and sad-coloured shirt, and was sitting upright in a -miserable bed, the covering of which appeared to be a piece of ancient -carpet. With one hand he scratched his head, while in the other he held -the sheet which he had just pulled down. - -"How are you, Parson Shycock?" said Chancey; "how do you find yourself -this morning, doctor?" - -"Tolerably well. But what is it you want with me? out with it, spooney. -Any job in my line, eh?" inquired the clergyman. - -"Yes, indeed, doctor," replied Chancey, "and a very good job; you're -wanted to marry a gentleman and a lady privately, not a mile and a half -out of town, this evening; you'll get five guineas for the job, and I -think that's no trifle." - -The parson mused, and scratched his head again. - -"Well," said he, "you must do a little job for me first. You can't be -ignorant that we members of the Church militant are often hard up; and -whenever I'm in a fix I pop wig, breeches, and gown, and take to my -bed; you'll find the three articles in this lane, corner house--sign, -three golden balls; present this docket--where the devil is it? ay, -here; all right--present this along with two guineas, paid in advance -on account of job: bring me the articles, and I'll get up and go along -with you in a brace of shakes. And stay; didn't I hear some one talking -of brandy? or--or was I dreaming? You may as well get in a half-pint, -for I'm never the thing till I have some little moderate refreshment; -so, dearly beloved, mizzle at once." - -"Dear me, dear me, doctor," said Chancey, "how can you think I'd go for -to bring two guineas along with me?" - -"If you haven't the _rhino_, this is no place for you, my fellow-sinner," -rejoined the couple-beggar; "and if you _have_, off with you and -deliver the togs out of pop. You wouldn't have a clergyman walk the -streets without breeches, eh, dearly beloved cove?" - -"Well, well, but you're a wonderful man," rejoined Chancey, with a -faint smile. "I suppose, then, I must do it; so give me the docket, and -I'll be here again as soon as I can." - -"And do you mind me, you stray sheep, you, don't forget the lush," -added the pastor. "I'm very desirous to wet my whistle; my mums, by the -hokey, is as dry as a Dutch brick. Good-bye to you, and do you mind, be -back here in the twinkling of a brace of bed-posts." - -With this injunction, and bearing the crumpled document, which the -reverend divine had given him, as his credentials with the pawnbroker, -Mr. Chancey cautiously lounged down the crazy stairs. - -"I say, my nutty Nancy," observed the parson, after a long yawn and a -stretch, addressing the female who sat at the window, "that chap's made -of money. I had a pint with him once in Clarke's public--round the -corner there. His name's Chancey, and he does half the bills in town--a -regular Jew chap." - -So saying, the Reverend Ebenezer Shycock, LL.D., unceremoniously rolled -himself out of bed and hobbled to a crazy deal box, in which were -deposited such articles of attire as had not been transmitted to the -obliging proprietor of the neighbouring three golden balls. - -While the reverend divine was kneeling before this box, and, with a -tenderness suited to their frail condition, removing the few scanty -articles of his wardrobe and laying them reverently upon a crazy stool -beside him, Mr. Chancey returned, bearing the liberated decorations of -the doctor's person, as also a small black bottle. - -"Oh, dear me, doctor," said Chancey, "but I'm glad to see you're -stirring. Here's the things." - -"And the--the lush, eh?" inquired the clergyman, peering inquisitively -round Chancey's side to have a peep at the bottle. - -"Yes, and the lush too," said the barrister. - -"Well, give me the breeches," said the doctor, with alacrity, clutching -those essential articles and proceeding to invest his limbs therein. -"And, Nancy, a sup of water and a brace of cups." - -A cracked mug and a battered pewter goblet made their appearance, and, -along with the ruin of a teapot which contained the pure element, were -deposited on a chair--for tables were singularly scarce in the reverend -doctor's establishment. - -"Now, my beloved fellow-sinner, mix like a Trojan!" exclaimed the -divine; "and take care, take care, pogey aqua, don't drown it with -water; chise it, _chise_ it, man, that'll do." - -With these words he grasped the vessel, nodded to Chancey, and -directing his two grey eyes with a greedy squint upon the liquor as it -approached his lips, he quaffed it at a single draught. - -Without waiting for an invitation, which Chancey thought his clerical -acquaintance might possibly forget, the barrister mingled some of the -same beverage for his own private use, and quietly gulped it down; -seeing which, and dreading Mr. Chancey's powers, which he remembered to -have already seen tested at "Clarke's public," the learned divine -abstractedly inverted the brandy bottle into his pewter goblet, and -shedding upon it an almost imperceptible dew from the dilapidated -teapot, he terminated the _symposium_ and proceeded to finish his -toilet. - -This was quickly done, and Mr. Gordon Chancey and the Reverend Ebenezer -Shycock--two illustrious and singularly well-matched ornaments of their -respective professions--proceeded arm in arm, both redolent of grog, to -the nearest coach stand, where they forthwith supplied themselves with -a vehicle; and while Mr. Chancey pretty fully instructed his reverend -companion in the precise nature of the service required of him, and, as -far as was necessary, communicated the circumstances of the whole case, -they traversed the interval which separated Dublin city from the manor -of Morley Court. - - - - -CHAPTER LVII. - -THE CHAPLAIN'S ARRIVAL AT MORLEY COURT--THE KEY--AND THE BOOZE IN THE -BOUDOIR. - - -The hall door was opened to the summons of the two gentlemen by no less -a personage than Nicholas Blarden himself, who, having carefully locked -it again, handed the key to his accomplice, Gordon Chancey. - -"Here, take it, Gordy, boy," exclaimed he, "I make you porter for the -term of the honeymoon. Keep the gates well, old boy, and never let the -keys out of your pocket unless I tell you. And so," continued he, -treating the Reverend Ebenezer Shycock to a stare which took in his -whole person, "you have caught the doctor and landed him fairly. -Doctor--what's your name? no matter--it's a delightful turn-up for a -sinner like me to have the heavenly consolation of your pious company. -Follow me in here; I dare say your reverence would not object to a -short interview with the brandy flask, or something of the kind--even -saints must wet their whistles now and again." - -So saying, Blarden led the way into the parlour. - -"Here, guzzle away, old gentleman, there's plenty of the stuff here," -said Blarden, "only beware how you make a beast of yourself. You -mustn't tie up your red rag, do you mind? We'll want you to stand and -read; and if you just keep senses enough for that, you may do whatever -you like with the rest." - -The clergyman nodded, and with a single sweep of his grey eyes, took in -the contents of the whole table. His shaking hand quickly grasped the -neck of the brandy flask, and he filled out and quaffed a comforting -bumper. - -"Now, take it easy, do, or, by Jove, you'll not _keep_ till evening," -said Blarden. "Chancey, have an eye on the parson, for his mind's so -intent on heaven that he may possibly forget where he is and what he's -doing. After dinner, Ashwoode and I have to go into town--some matters -that must be wound up before the evening's entertainment begins--we'll -be out, however, at eight o'clock or so. And mind this," he continued, -gripping the barrister's shoulder in his hand with an energizing -pressure, and speaking into his ear to secure attention, "you know that -little room upstairs wherein we had the bit of chat with my lady -love--the--the boudoir, I think they call it--now, mind me well--when -the dusk comes on, do you and his reverence there take your pipes and -your brandy, or whatever else you're amusing yourselves with at the -time, and sit in that same room together, so that not a mouse can cross -the floor unknown to you. Don't forget this, for we can't be too sharp. -Do you hear me, old Lucifer?" - -"Never fear, never fear," rejoined Mr. Chancey. "The Reverend Ebenezer -and I will spend the evening there--and, indeed, I declare to God, it's -a very neat little room, so it is, for a quiet pipe and a pot of sack." - -"Well, that's a point settled," rejoined Blarden. "And do you mind me, -don't let that beastly old sot knock himself up before we come home. Do -you hear me, old scarecrow," he continued, poking the reverend doctor -somewhere about the region of the abdomen with the hilt of his sword, -which he was adjusting at his side, and addressing himself to that -gentleman, "if I find you drunk when I return this evening, I'll make -it your last bout--I'll tap the brandy, old tickle pitcher, and stave -the cask, and send you to seek your fortune in the other world. Mind my -words--I'm not given to joking when I have real business on hand; and -faith, you'll find me as ready to _do_ as to promise." - -So saying, he left the room. - -"A rum cove, that, upon my little word," said the Reverend Ebenezer -Shycock, filling out another bumper of his beloved cordial. "Take the -bottle away at once; lock it up, my fellow-worm, lock it up, or I'll be -at it again. Lock it up while I have this glass in my hand, or I must -have another, and that might be--_might_, I say--_possibly_ might--but -d----n it, no, it can't--I will have one more." And so saying, with -desperate resolution, he quaffed what he had already in his hand and -filled out another. - -Chancey did not wait till he had repeated his mandate, but quietly -removed the seductive flask and placed it beyond the reach and the -sight of his clerical friend, who, feeling himself a little pleasant, -sat down before the hearth, and in a voice whose tone nearly resembled -that of a raven labouring under an affection of the chest, he chaunted -through his nose, with many significant winks and grimaces, a ditty at -that time in high acceptance among the votaries of vice and license, -and whose words were such as even the 'Old St. Columbkill' would hardly -have tolerated. This performance over--which, by the way, Chancey -relished in his own quiet way with intense enjoyment--the reverend -gentleman, composed himself for a doze for several hours, from which he -aroused himself to eat and to drink a little more. - -Thus pleasantly the day wore on, until at length the sun descended in -glory behind the far-off blue hills, and the pale twilight began to -herald the approach of night. - -That day Mary Ashwoode appeared to have lost all energy of thought and -feeling; she lay pale and silent upon her bed, seeming scarcely -conscious even of the presence of her faithful attendant. From the -moment of her yesterday's interview with Blarden, and the meeting with -her brother, she had been thus despairing and stupefied. Flora Guy sat -in the window, sometimes watching the pale face of the wretched lady, -and at others looking out upon the old woodlands and the great avenue, -darkened among its double rows of huge old limes. As the day wore on -she suddenly exclaimed,-- - -"Oh, my lady, here's a gentleman coming with Mr. Chancey up the avenue, -I see them between the trees, and the coach driving away." - -"Can it--_can_ it be?" exclaimed Mary, starting wildly up in the -bed--"is it he?" - -"It's a little stout gentleman, with a red pimply face--they're talking -under the window now, my lady; he has a band on, and a black gown -across his arm--as sure as daylight, my lady--he is--blessed hour; he -_is_ a parson." - -Mary Ashwoode did not speak, but the momentary flash of hope faded from -her face, and was succeeded by a paleness so deadly that lips and -cheeks looked bloodless as the marble lineaments of a statue; in dull -and silent despair she sank again where she had lain before. - -"Don't fear them, my lady," said the poor girl, placing herself by the -bedside where, more like a corpse than a living being, her hapless -mistress lay; "I will not leave you, and though they may threaten, they -dare not hurt you--don't fear them, my lady." - -The blanched cheeks and evident excitement of the honest maiden, -however, too clearly belied her words of encouragement. - -Twice or thrice the girl, in the course of the day, locking the door of -her mistress's chamber, according to the orders of Nicholas Blarden and -his confederates, but less in obedience to them than for the sake of -_her_ security, ran downstairs to learn whatever could be gathered from -the servants of the intended movements of the conspirators; each time, -as she descended the stairs, the parlour bell was rung, and a servant -encountered her before she had well reached the hall; and Mr. Chancey, -too, with his hands in his pockets, and his cunning eyes glittering -suspiciously through their half-closed lids, would meet and question -her before she passed: were ever sentinels more vigilant--was ever -_surveillance_ more jealous and complete? - -During these excursions she picked up whatever was to be learned of the -intentions of those in whose power her young mistress now helplessly -and despairingly lay. - -"Sir Henry Ashwoode and Mr. Blarden is gone to town together, my lady," -said the maid, in a whisper, for she felt the vigilance of Chancey and -his creatures might pursue her even to the chamber where she stood; -"they'll not be out till about eight o'clock, my lady, at the soonest, -maybe not till near nine or ten; at any rate it will be dark long -before they come, and God knows what may turn up before then--don't -lose heart, my lady--don't give up." - -In vain, entirely in vain, however, were the words of hope and courage -spoken; they fell cold and dead upon the palsied senses and stricken -heart of despairing terror. Mary Ashwoode scarcely understood, and -seemed not even to have heard them. - -As the evening approached the poor girl made another exploring ramble, -in the almost desperate speculation that she might possibly hit upon -something which might suggest even a hint of some mode of escape. -Having encountered Chancey and one of the serving men, as usual, and -passed her examination, she crossed the large old hall, and without any -definite pre-determination, entered Sir Henry's study, where he and -Blarden had been sitting, and carelessly thrown upon the table a large -key. For a moment she could scarcely believe her eyes, and her heart -bounded high with hope as she grasped it quickly and rolled it in her -apron--"Could it be the key of one of the doors through which alone -liberty was to be regained?" With a deliberate step, which strangely -belied her restless anxiety, she passed the door within which Chancey -was sitting, and ascended to the young lady's chamber. - -"My lady, is this it?" exclaimed she, almost breathless with -excitement, and holding the key before the lady's face. - -Mary Ashwoode with a momentary eagerness glanced at it. - -"No, no," said she, faintly, "I know all the keys of the outer doors; -it was I who brought them to my father every night; but this is none of -them--no, no, no, no." There was a dulness and apathy upon the young -lady, and a seeming insensibility to everything--to hope, to danger--to -all, in short, which had intensely interested every faculty of mind and -feeling but the day before--which frightened and dismayed her humble -friend. - -"Don't, my lady--don't give up--oh, sure you won't lose heart entirely; -see if I won't think of something--never mind, if I don't think of some -way or another yet." - -The red discoloured tints of evening were now fading from the -landscape, and rapidly giving place to the dim twilight--the harbinger -of a night of dangers, terrors, and adventures; and as the poor maiden -sat by the young lady's side, with a heart full of dark and ominous -foreboding, she heard the door of the outer chamber--the little boudoir -which we have often had occasion to mention--opened, and two persons -entered it. - -"They are here--they are come. Oh, God! they are here," exclaimed Mary -Ashwoode, clasping her small hand in terror round the girl's wrist. - -"The door's locked, my lady," said the girl, scarcely less terrified -than her mistress; "they can't come in without letting us know first.' -So saying, she ran to the door and peeped through the keyhole, to -reconnoitre the party, and then stepping on tip-toe to the young lady, -who, more dead than alive, was sitting by the bed-side, she said in a -whisper,-- - -"Who do you think it is, ma'am? blessed hour! my lady, who should it be -but that lawyer gentleman--that Mr. Chancey, and the old parson--they -are settling themselves at the table." - -Mr. Gordon Chancey and the Reverend Ebenezer Shycock were determined to -make themselves comfortable in their new quarters. Accordingly they -heaped wood and turf upon the expiring fire, and compelled the servant -to ply the kitchen bellows, until the hearth crackled and roared again; -then drawing the table to the fire-side--a pretty little work-table of -poor Mary's--now covered with brandy-flasks, pieces of tobacco, pipes, -and the other apparatus of their coarse debauch--the two worthies, -illuminated by a pair of ponderous wax-candles, and by the blaze of a -fire, and having drawn the curtains, sat themselves down and commenced -their jolly vigils. - -Chancey possessed the rare faculty of preserving his characteristic -cunning throughout every phase and stage of intoxication short of -absolute insensibility; on the present occasion, however, he was -resolved not to put this convenient accomplishment to the test. The -goodwill of Nicholas Blarden was too lucrative a possession to be -lightly parted with, and he could not afford to hazard it by too free -an indulgence upon the present important occasion; he therefore -conducted his assaults upon the bottle with a very laudable -abstemiousness. Not so, however, his clerical companion; he, too, had, -in connection with his convivial frailties, a compensating gift of his -own; he possessed, in an eminent degree, the power of recovering his -intellects upon short notice from the influence of brandy, and of -descending almost at a single bound from the loftiest altitude of -drunken inspiration to the dull insipid level of ordinary sobriety; all -he asked was fifteen minutes to bring himself to. He used to say with -becoming pride--"If I could have done it in _ten_, I'd have been a -bishop by this time; but _dis aliter visum_; I had not time one -forenoon; being wapper-eyed, I was five minutes short of my allowance -to get right, consequently officiated oddly--fell on my back on the way -out, and couldn't get up; but what signifies it? I'm better off, as -matters stand, ten to one; so here goes, my fellow-sinner, to it again; -one brimmer more." - -The reverend doctor, therefore, was much less cautious than his -companion, and soon began to exhibit very unequivocal symptoms of a -declension in his intellectual and physical energies, and a more than -corresponding elevation in his hilarious spirits. - -"I say," said Chancey, "my good man, you'd better stop; you have too -much in as it is; they'll be here before half-an-hour, and if Mr. -Blarden finds you this way, I declare to God I think he'll crack your -neck down the staircase." - -"Well, dearly beloved," said the clerical gentleman, "I believe you -_are_ right; I'll bring myself to. I _am_ a little heavy-eyed or so; -all I ask for is a towel and cold water." So saying, with many a screw -of the lips, and many a hiccough, he made an effort to rise, but -tumbled back--with an expression of the most heavenly benevolence--into -his chair, knocking his head with an audible sound upon the back of it, -and at the same time overturning one of the candles. - -"Pull the bell, dearly beloved," said he, with a smile and a -hiccough--"a basin of water and a towel." - -"Devil broil you, for a drunken beast," said Chancey, seriously alarmed -at the condition of the couple-beggar; "he'll never be fit for his work -to-night." - -"Fifteen minutes, neither more nor less," hiccoughed the divine, with -the same celestial smile--"towel, basin of cold water, and fifteen -minutes." - -Chancey did procure the cold water and a napkin, which, being laid -before the clergyman, he proceeded with much deliberation, while -various expressions of stupendous solemnity and beaming benevolence -flitted in beautiful alternations across his expressive countenance, to -prepare them for use. He doffed his wig, and first bathing his head, -face, and temples completely in the cool liquid, saturated the towel -likewise therein, and wound it round his shorn head in the fashion of a -Turkish turban; having accomplished which feat, he leaned back in his -chair, closed his eyes, and became, to all intents and purposes, for -the time being, stone dead. - -Leaving his reverend companion undisturbed to the operation of his own -hydropathic treatment, Gordon Chancey drew his seat near to the fire, -and filling his pipe anew with tobacco, leaned back in the chair, -crossed his legs, and more than half closing his eyes, prepared himself -luxuriously for what he called "a raal elegant draw of particular -pigtail." - - - - -CHAPTER LVIII. - -THE SIGNAL. - - -Flora Guy peeped eagerly through the keyhole of her lady's chamber into -the little apartment in which the two boon companions were seated. -After reconnoitring for a very long time, she moved lightly to her -mistress's side, and said, in a low but distinct tone,-- - -"Now, my lady, you must get up and rouse yourself--for God's sake, -mistress dear, shake off the heaviness that's over you, and we have a -chance left still." - -"Are they not in the next room to us?" inquired Mary. - -"Yes, my lady," replied the maid, "but the parson gentleman is drunk or -asleep, and Mr. Chancey is there alone--and--and has the four keys -beside him on the table; don't be frightened, my lady, do you stay -quite quiet, and I'll go into the room." - -Mary Ashwoode made no answer, but pressed the poor girl's hand in her -cold fingers, and without moving, almost without breathing, awaited the -result. Flora Guy, meanwhile, opened the door, and passed into the -outer apartment, assuming, as she did so, an air of easy and careless -indifference. Chancey turned as she entered the room, fanning the smoke -of his tobacco pipe aside with his hand, and eying her with a jealous -glance. - -"Well, my little girl," said he, "and what makes you leave your young -lady, my dear?" - -"An' is a body never to get an instant minute to themselves?" rejoined -she, with an indignant toss of her head; "why then, I tell you what it -is, Mr. Chancey, I'm tired to death, so I am, sitting in that little -room the whole blessed day, and not a word, good or bad, will the young -lady say--she's gone stupid like." - -"Is the door locked?" said Chancey, suspiciously, and at the same time -rising and approaching the young lady's chamber. - -As he did so, Flora Guy, availing herself instantly of this averted -position, snatched up, without waiting to choose, one of the four great -keys which lay upon the table, and replaced it dexterously with that -which she had but a short time before shown to her mistress; in doing -so, however, spite of all her caution, a slight clank was audible. - -"Well, _is_ it locked?" inquired the damsel, hoping by the loud tone in -which she uttered the question to drown the suspicious sounds which -threatened her schemes with instant detection. - -"Yes, it is locked," rejoined Chancey, glancing quickly at the keys; -"but what do you want there? move off from my place, will you?" and -shambling to the table he hastily gathered the four keys in his grasp, -and thrust them into his deep coat pocket. - -"You're in a mighty quare humour, so you are, Mr. Chancey," said the -girl, affecting a saucy tone, through which, had his ear been listening -for the sound, he might have detected the quaver of extreme agitation, -"you usedn't to be so cross by no means at the Columbkil, but mighty -pleasant, so you used." - -"Well, my little girl," said Chancey, whose suspicions were now -effectually quieted, "I declare to God you're the first that ever said -I was bad tempered, so you are--will you have something to drink?" - -"What have you there, Mr. Chancey?" inquired she. - -"This is brandy, my little girl, and this is sack, dear," rejoined -Chancey, "both of them elegant; you must have whichever you like--which -will you choose, dear?" - -"Well, then, I'll have a little drop of the sack, mulled, I thank you, -Mr. Chancey," replied she. - -"There's nothing to mull it in here, my little girl," objected the -barrister. - -"Oh, but I'll get it in a minute though," replied she, "I'll run down -for a saucepan." - -"Well, dear, run away," replied he, "but don't be long, for Miss -Ashwoode might want you, my little girl, and it wouldn't do if you were -out of the way, you know." - -Without waiting to hear the end of this charge, Flora Guy ran down the -staircase, and speedily returned with the utensil required. - -"Maybe I'd better go in for a minute first, and see if she wants me," -suggested the girl. - -"Very well, my dear," replied Chancey. - -And accordingly, she turned the key in the chamber door, closed it -again, and stood by the young lady's side; such was her agitation that -for three or four seconds she could not speak. - -"My lady," at length she said, "I have one of the keys--when I go in -next I'll leave your room door unlocked, only closed just, and no -more--the lobby door is ajar--I left it that way this very minute; and -when you hear me saying 'the sack's upset!'--do you open your door, and -cross the room as quick as light, and out on the lobby, and stop by the -stairs, my lady, and I'll follow you as fast as I can. Here, my lady," -continued the poor girl, bringing a small box from her mistress's -toilet; "your rings, my lady--they'll be wanted--mind, your rings, my -lady--there is the little case, keep it in your pocket; if we escape, -my lady, they'll be wanted--mind, Mr. Chancey has ears like needle -points. Keep up your heart, my lady, and in the name of God we'll try -this chance." - -"Into His hands I commit myself," said the young lady, with a tone and -air of more firmness and energy than she had shown for days; "my heart -is strengthened, my courage comes again--oh, thank God, I am equal to -this dreadful hour." - -Flora Guy made a gesture of silence, and then, opening the door -briskly, and shutting it again with an ostentatious noise, and drawing -the key from the lock, she crossed the room to where Chancey, who had -watched her entrance, was sitting. - -"Well, my dear," said he, "how is that delicate young lady in there?" - -"Why, she's raythur bad, I'm afraid," rejoined the girl; "she's the -whole day long in a sort of a heavy dulness like--she don't seem to -mind anything." - -"So much the better, my dear," said Chancey, "she'll be the less -inclined to gad, or to be troublesome--come, mix the spices and the -sugar, dear, and settle the liquor in the saucepan--you want some -refreshment, so you do, for I declare to God, I never saw anyone so -pale in all my life as you are this minute." - -"I'll not be long so," said the girl, affecting a tone of briskness, -and proceeding to mingle the ingredients in the little saucepan, "for I -think if I was dead itself, let alone a little bit tired, a cup of -mulled sack would cheer me up again." - -So saying, she placed the little saucepan on the bar. - -"Is the parson asleep?" inquired she. - -"Indeed, my dear, I'm very much afraid it's tipsy he is," drawled -Chancey, demurely, "take care of that clergyman, my dear, for indeed -I'm afraid he has very loose conduct." - -"Will I blacken his nose with a burned cork?" inquired she. - -"Oh! no, my little girl," replied Chancey, with a tranquil chuckle, and -turning his sleepy grey eyes upon the apoplectic visage of the -stupefied drunkard who sat bolt upright before him; "no, no, we don't -know the minute he may be wanted; he'll have to perform the ceremony -very soon, my dear; and Mr. Blarden, if he took the fancy, would think -nothing of braining half a dozen of us. I declare to God he wouldn't." - -"Well, Mr. Chancey, will you mind the little saucepan for one minute," -said she, "while I'm putting a bit of turf or a few sticks under it." - -"Indeed I will," said he, turning his eyes lazily upon the utensil, but -doing nothing more to secure it. Flora Guy accordingly took some wood, -and, pretending to arrange the fire, overturned the wine; the loud hiss -of the boiling liquid, and the sudden cloud of whirling steam and -ashes, ascending toward the ceiling, and puffing into his face, half -confounded the barrister, and at the same instant, Flora Guy, clapping -her hands, and exclaimed with a shrill cry,-- - -"_The sack's upset! the sack's upset!_ lend a hand, Mr. Chancey--Mr. -Chancey, do you hear?" and, while thus conjured, the barrister, in -obedience to her vociferous appeal, made some indistinct passes at the -saucepan with the poker, which he had grasped at the first alarm; the -damsel, without daring to look directly where every feeling would have -riveted her eyes, beheld a dark form glide noiselessly behind Chancey, -and pass from the room. For the moment, so intense was her agony of -anxiety, she felt upon the very point of fainting; in an instant more, -however, she had recovered all her energies, and was bold and -quick-witted as ever; one glance in the direction of the lady's chamber -showed her the door slowly swinging open; fortunately the barrister was -at the moment too much occupied with the extraction of the remainder of -the saucepan from the fire, to have yet perceived the treacherous -accident, one glance at which would have sealed their ruin, and Flora -Guy, running noiselessly to the door, remedied the perilous disclosure -by shutting it softly and quickly; and then, with much clattering of -the key, and a good deal of pushing beside, forcing it open again, she -passed into the room and spoke a little in a low tone, as if to her -mistress; and then, returning, she locked the door of the then -untenanted chamber in real earnest, and, crossing to Chancey, said:--"I -wonder at you, so I do, Mr. Chancey; you frightened the young mistress -half out of her wits; and I'm all over dust and ashes; I must run down -and wash every inch of my face and hands, so I must; and here, Mr. -Chancey, will you keep the key of the bed-room till I come back? afraid -I might drop it; and don't let it out of your hands." - - [Illustration: "Glide noiselessly behind Chancey." - _To face page 293._] - -"I will indeed, dear; but don't be long away," rejoined the barrister, -extending his hand to receive the key of the now vacant chamber. - -So Flora Guy boldly walked forth upon the lobby, and closing the -chamber door behind her, found herself in the vast old gallery, hung -round with grim and antique portraits, and lighted only by the fitful -beams of a clouded moon shining doubtfully through the stained glass of -a solitary window. - -Mary Ashwoode awaited her approach, concealed in a small recess or -niche in the wall, shrined like an image in the narrow enclosure of -carved oak, not daring to stir, and with a heart throbbing as though it -would burst. - -"My lady, are you there?" whispered the maid, scarce audibly; great -nervous excitement renders the sense morbidly acute, and Mary Ashwoode -heard the sound distinctly, faint though it was, and at some distance -from her; she stepped falteringly from her place of concealment, and -took the hand of her conductress in a grasp cold as that of death -itself, and side by side they proceeded down the broad staircase. They -had descended about half-way when a loud and violent ringing from the -bell of the chamber where Chancey was seated made their very hearts -bound with terror; they stood fixed and breathless on the stair where -the fearful peal had first reached their ears. Again the summons came -louder still, and at the same moment the sounds of steps approached -from below, and the gleam of a candle quickly followed; Mary Ashwoode -felt her ears tingle and her head swim with terror; she was on the -point of sinking upon the floor. In this dreadful extremity her -presence of mind did not forsake Flora Guy: disengaging her hand from -that of her terrified mistress, she tripped lightly down the stairs to -meet the person who was approaching--a turn in the staircase confronted -them, and she saw before her the serving man whose treachery had -already defeated Mary Ashwoode's hopes of deliverance. - -"What keeps you such a time answering the bell?" inquired she, saucily, -"you needn't go up now, for I've got your message; bring up clean cups -and a clean saucepan, for everything's destroyed with the dust and dirt -Mr. Chancey's after kicking up; what did he do, do you think, but -upsets the sack into the fire. Now be quick with the things, will you? -the bell won't be easy one minute till they're done." - -"Give me a kiss, sweet lips," exclaimed the man, setting down his -candle, "and I'll not be a brace of shakes about the message; come, you -_must_," he continued, playfully struggling with the affrighted girl. - -"Well, do the message first, at any rate," said she, forcing herself, -with some difficulty, from his grasp, as the bell rang a third time; -"it will be a nice piece of business, so it will, if Mr. Chancey comes -down and catches you here, pulling me about, so it will, you'll look -well, won't you, when he's telling it to Mr. Blarden?--don't be a -fool." - -The reiterated application to the bell had more effect upon the serving -man than all her oratory, and muttering a curse or two, he ran down, -determined, vindictively, to bring up soiled cups, and a dirty -saucepan. The man had hardly departed, when the maid exclaimed, in a -hurried whisper, "Come--come--quick--quick, for your life!" and with -scarcely the interval of three seconds, they found themselves in the -hall. - -"Here's the key, my lady; see which of the doors does it open," -whispered she, exhibiting the key in the dusky and imperfect light. - -"Here--here--this way," said Mary Ashwoode, moving with weak and -stumbling steps through a tiled lobby which opened upon the great hall, -and thence along a narrow passage upon which several doors opened. -"Here, here," she exclaimed, "this door--this--I cannot open it--my -strength is gone--this is it--for God's sake, quickly." - -After two or three trials, Flora Guy succeeded in getting the key into -the lock, and then exerting the whole strength of her two hands, with a -hoarse jarring clang the bolt revolved, the door opened, and they stood -upon the fresh and dewy sward, beneath the shadow of the old -ivy-mantled walls. The girl locked the door upon the outside, fearful -that its lying open should excite suspicion, and flung the key away -into the thick weeds and brushwood. - -"Now, my lady, the shortest way to the high road?" inquired Flora in a -hurried whisper, and supporting, as well as she could, the tottering -steps of her mistress, "how do you feel, my lady? Don't lose heart now, -a few minutes more and you will be safe--courage--courage, my lady." - -"I am better now, Flora," said Mary faintly, "much better--the cool air -refreshes me." As she thus spoke, her strength returned, her step grew -fleeter and firmer, and she led the way round the irregular ivy-clothed -masses of the dark old building and through the stately trees that -stood gathered round it. Over the unequal sward they ran with the light -steps of fear, and under the darksome canopy of the vast and ancient -linden-trees, gliding upon the smooth grass like two ghosts among the -chequered shade and dusky light. On, on they sped, scarcely feeling the -ground beneath their feet as they pursued their terrified flight; they -had now gained the midway distance in the ancient avenue between the -mansion and great gate, and still ran noiselessly and fleetly along, -when the quick ear of Mary Ashwoode caught the distant sounds of -pursuit. - -"Flora--Flora--oh, God! we are followed," gasped the young lady. - -"Stop an instant, my lady," rejoined the maid, "let us listen for a -second." - -They did pause, and distinctly, between them and the old mansion, they -heard, among the dry leaves with which in places the ground was strewn, -the tread of steps pursuing at headlong speed. - -"It is--it is, I hear them," said Mary distractedly. - -"Now, my lady, we must run--run for our lives; if we but reach the road -before them, we may yet be saved; now, my lady, for God's sake don't -falter--don't give up." - -And while the sounds of pursuit grew momentarily louder and more loud, -they still held their onward way with throbbing hearts, and eyes almost -sightless with fatigue and terror. - - - - -CHAPTER LIX. - -HASTE AND PERIL. - - -The rush of feet among the leaves grew every moment closer and closer -upon them, and now they heard the breathing of their pursuer--the -sounds came near--nearer--they approached--they reached them. - -"Oh, God! they are up with us--they are upon us," said Mary, stumbling -blindly onward, and at the same moment she felt something laid heavily -upon her shoulder--she tottered--her strength forsook her, and she fell -helplessly among the branching roots of the old trees. - -"My lady--oh, my lady--thank God, it's only the dog," cried Flora Guy, -clapping her hands in grateful ecstasies; and at the same time, Mary -felt a cold nose thrust under her neck and her chin and cheeks licked -by her old favourite, poor Rover. More dead than alive, she raised -herself again to her feet, and before her sat the great old dog, his -tail sweeping the rustling leaves in wide circles, and his -good-humoured tongue lolling from among his ivory fangs. With many a -frisk and bound the fine dog greeted his long-lost mistress, and seemed -resolved to make himself one of the party. - -"No, no, poor Rover," said Mary, hurriedly--"we have rambled our last -together--home, Rover, home." - -The old dog looked wonderingly in the face of his mistress. - -"Home, Rover--home," repeated she, and the noble dog did credit to his -good training by turning dejectedly, and proceeding at a slow, broken -trot homeward, after stopping, however, and peeping round his shoulder, -as though in the hope of some signal relentingly inviting his return. - -Thus relieved of their immediate fears, the two fugitives, weak, -exhausted, and breathless, reached the great gate, and found themselves -at length upon the high road. Here they ventured to check their speed, -and pursue their way at a pace which enabled them to recover breath and -strength, but still fearfully listening for any sound indicative of -pursuit. - -The moon was high in the heavens, but the dark, drifting scud was -sailing across her misty disc, and giving to her light the character of -ceaseless and ever varying uncertainty. The road on which they walked -was that which led to Dublin city, and from each side was embowered by -tall old trees, and rudely fenced by unequal grassy banks. They had -proceeded nearly half-a-mile without encountering any living being, -when they heard, suddenly, a little way before them, the sharp clang of -horses' hoofs upon the road, and shortly after, the moon shining forth -for a moment, revealed distinctly the forms of two horsemen approaching -at a slow trot. - -"As sure as light, my lady, it's they," said Flora Guy, "I know Sir -Henry's grey horse--don't stop, my lady--don't try to hide--just draw -the hood over your head, and walk on steady with me, and they'll never -mind us, but pass on." - -With a throbbing heart, Mary obeyed her companion, and they walked side -by side by the edge of the grassy bank and under the tall trees--the -distance between them and the two mounted figures momentarily -diminishing. - -"I say he's as lame as a hop-jack," cried the well-known voice of -Nicholas Blarden, as they approached--"hav'n't you an eye in your head, -you mouth, you--look there--another false step, by Jove." - -Just at this moment the girls, looking neither to the right nor left, -and almost sinking with fear, were passing them by. - -"Stop you, one of you, will you?" said Blarden, addressing them, and at -the same time reining in his horse. - -Flora Guy stopped, and making a slight curtsey, awaited his further -pleasure, while Mary Ashwoode, with faltering steps and almost dead -with terror, walked slowly on. - -"Have you light enough to see a stone in a horse's hoof, my dimber -hen?--have you, I say?" - -"Yes, sir," faltered the girl, with another curtsey, and not venturing -to raise her voice, for fear of detection. - -"Well, look into them all in turn, will you?" continued Blarden, "while -I walk the beast a bit. Do you see anything? is there a stone -there?--is there?" - -"No, sir," said she again, with a curtsey. - -"No, sir," echoed he--"but I say 'yes, sir,' and I'll take my oath of -it. D----n it, it can't be a strain. Get down, Ashwoode, I say, and -look to it yourself; these blasted women are fit for nothing but -darning old stockings--get down, I say, Ashwoode." - -Without awaiting for any more formal dismissal, Flora Guy walked -quickly on, and speedily overtook her companion, and side by side they -continued to go at the same moderate pace, until a sudden turn in the -road interposing trees and bushes between them and the two horsemen, -they renewed their flight at the swiftest pace which their exhausted -strength could sustain; and need had they to exert their utmost speed, -for greater dangers than they had yet escaped were still to follow. - -Meanwhile Nicholas Blarden and Sir Henry Ashwoode mended their pace, -and proceeded at a brisk trot toward the manor of Morley Court. Both -rode on more than commonly silent, and whenever Blarden spoke, it was -with something more than his usual savage moroseness. No doubt their -rapid approach to the scene where their hellish cruelty and oppression -were to be completed, did not serve either to exhilarate their spirits -or to soothe the asperities of Blarden's ruffian temper. Now and then, -indeed, he did indulge in a few flashes of savage exulting glee at his -anticipated triumph over the hereditary pride of Sir Henry, against -whom, with all a coward's rancour, he still cherished a "lodged hate," -and in mortifying and insulting whom his kestrel heart delighted and -rioted with joy. As they approached the ancient avenue, as if by mutual -consent, they both drew bridle and reduced their pace to a walk. - -"You shall be present and give her away--do you mind?" said Blarden, -abruptly breaking silence. - -"There's no need for that--surely there is none?" said Ashwoode. - -"Need or no need, it's my humour," replied Blarden. - -"I've suffered enough already in this matter," replied Sir Henry, -bitterly; "there's no use in heaping gratuitous annoyances and -degradation upon me." - -"Ho, ho, running rusty," exclaimed Blarden, with the harsh laugh of -coarse insult--"running rusty, eh? I thought you were broken in by this -time--paces learned and mouth made, eh?--take care, take care." - -"I say," repeated Ashwoode, impetuously, "you can have no object in -compelling my presence, except to torment me." - -"Well, suppose I allow that--what then, eh?--ho, ho!" retorted Blarden. - -Sir Henry did not reply, but a strange fancy crossed his mind. - -"I say," resumed Blarden, "I'll have no argument about it; I choose it, -and what I choose must be done--that's enough." - -The road was silent and deserted; no sound, save the ringing of their -own horses' hoofs upon the stones, disturbed the stillness of the air; -dark, ragged clouds obscured the waning moon, and the shadows were -deepened further by the stooping branches of the tall trees which -guarded the road on either side. Ashwoode's hand rested upon the pommel -of his holster pistol, and by his side moved the wretch whose cunning -and ferocity had dogged and destroyed him--with startling vividness the -suggestion came. His eyes rested upon the dusky form of his companion, -all calculations of consequences faded away from his remembrance, and -yielding to the dark, dreadful influence which was upon him, he -clutched the weapon with a deadly gripe. - -"What are you staring at me for?--am I a stone wall, eh?" exclaimed -Blarden, who instinctively perceived something odd in Ashwoode's air -and attitude, spite of the obscurity in which they rode. - -The spell was broken. Ashwoode felt as if awaking from a dream, and -looked fearfully round, almost expecting to behold the visible presence -of the principle of mischief by his side, so powerful and vivid had -been the satanic impulse of the moment before. - -They turned into the great avenue through which so lately the fugitives -had fearfully sped. - -"We're at home now," cried Blarden; "come, be brisk, will you?" And so -saying, he struck Ashwoode's horse a heavy blow with his whip. The -spirited animal reared and bolted, and finally started at a gallop down -the broad avenue towards the mansion, and at the same pace Nicholas -Blarden also thundered to the hall door. - - - - -CHAPTER LX. - -THE UNTREASURED CHAMBER. - - -Their obstreperous summons at the door was speedily answered, and the -two cavaliers stood in the hall. - -"Well, all's right, I suppose?" inquired Blarden, tossing his gloves -and hat upon the table. - -"Yes, sir," replied the servant, "all but the lady's maid; Mr. -Chancey's been calling for her these five minutes and more, and we -can't find her." - -"How's this--all the doors locked?" inquired Blarden vehemently. - -"Ay, sir, every one of them," replied the man. - -"Who has the keys?" asked Blarden. - -"Mr. Chancey, sir," replied the servant. - -"Did he allow them out of his keeping--did he?" urged Blarden. - -"No, sir--not a moment--for he was saying this very minute," answered -the domestic, "he had them in his pocket, and the key of Miss Mary's -room along with them; he took it from Flora Guy, the maid, scarce a -quarter of an hour ago." - -"Then all _is_ right," said Blarden, while the momentary blackness of -suspicion passed from his face, "the girl's in some hole or corner of -this lumbering old barrack, but here comes Chancey himself, what's all -the fuss about--who's in the upper room--the--the boudoir, eh?" he -continued, addressing the barrister, who was sneaking downstairs with a -candle in his hand, and looking unusually sallow. - -"The Reverend Ebenezer and one of the lads--they're sitting there," -answered Chancey, "but we can't find that little girl, Flora Guy, -anywhere." - -"Have you the keys?" asked Blarden. - -"Ay, dear me, to be sure I have, except the one that I gave to little -Bat there, to let you in this minute. I have the three other keys; dear -me--dear me--what could ail me?" And so saying, Chancey slapped the -skirt of his coat slightly so as to make them jingle in his pocket. - -"The windows are all fast and safe as the wall itself--screwed down," -observed Blarden, "let's see the keys--show them here." - -Chancey accordingly drew them from his pocket, and laid them on the -table. - -"There's the three of them," observed he, calmly. - -"Have you no more?" inquired Blarden, looking rather aghast. - -"No, indeed, the devil a one," replied Chancey, thrusting his arm to -the elbow in his coat pocket. - -"D--n me, but I think this is the key of the cellar," ejaculated -Blarden, in a tone which energized even the apathetic lawyer, "come -here, Ashwoode, what key's this?" - -"It _is_ the cellar key," said Ashwoode, in a faltering voice and -turning very pale. - -"Try your pockets for another, and find it, or ----." The aposiopesis -was alarming, and Blarden's direction was obeyed instantaneously. - -"I declare to God," said Chancey, much alarmed, "I have but the three, -and that in the door makes four." - -"You d----d oaf," said Blarden, between his set teeth, "if you have -botched this business, I'll let you know for what. Ashwoode, which of -the keys is missing?" - -After a moment's hesitation, Ashwoode led the way through the passage -which Mary and her companion had so lately traversed. - -"That's the door," said he, pointing to that through which the escape -had been effected. - -"And what's this?" cried Blarden, shouldering past Sir Henry, and -raising something from the ground, just by the door-post, "a -handkerchief, and marked, too--it's the young lady's own--give me the -key of the lady's chamber," continued he, in a low changed voice, which -had, in the ears of the barrister, something more unpleasant still than -his loudest and harshest tones--"give me the key, and follow me." - -He clutched it, and followed by the terror-stricken barrister, and by -Sir Henry Ashwoode, he retraced his steps, and scaled the stairs with -hurried and lengthy strides. Without stopping to glance at the form of -the still slumbering drunkard, or to question the servant who sat -opposite, on the chair recently occupied by Chancey, he strode directly -to the door of Mary Ashwoode's sleeping apartment, opened it, and stood -in an untenanted chamber. - -For a moment he paused, aghast and motionless; he ran to the bed--still -warm with the recent pressure of his intended victim--the room was, -indeed, deserted. He turned round, absolutely black and speechless with -rage. As he advanced, the wretched barrister--the tool of his worst -schemes--cowered back in terror. Without speaking one word, Blarden -clutched him by the throat, and hurled him with his whole power -backward. With tremendous force he descended with his head upon the bar -of the grate, and thence to the hearthstone; there, breathless, -powerless, and to all outward seeming a livid corpse, lay the devil's -cast-off servant, the red blood trickling fast from ears, nose, and -mouth. Not waiting to see whether Chancey was alive or dead, Mr. -Blarden seized the brandy flask and dashed it in the face of the stupid -drunkard--who, disturbed by the fearful hubbub, was just beginning to -open his eyes--and leaving that reverend personage drenched in blood -and brandy, to take care of his boon companion as best he might, -Blarden strode down the stairs, followed by Ashwoode and the servants. - -"Get horses--horses all," shouted he, "to the stables--by Jove, it was -they we met on the road--the two girls--quick to the stables--whoever -catches them shall have his hat full of crowns." - -Led by Blarden, they all hurried to the stables, where they found the -horses unsaddled. - -"On with the saddles--for your life be quick," cried Blarden, "four -horses--fresh ones." - -While uttering his furious mandates, with many a blasphemous -imprecation, he aided the preparations himself, and with hands that -trembled with eagerness and rage, he drew the girths, and buckled the -bridles, and in almost less than a minute, the four horses were led out -upon the broken pavement of the stable-yard. - -"Mind, boys," cried Blarden, "they are two mad-women--escaped -mad-women--ride for your lives. Ashwoode, do you take the right, and -I'll take the left when we come on the road--do you follow me, -Tony--and Dick, do you go with Sir Henry--and, now, devil take the -hindmost." With these words he plunged the spurs into his horse's -flanks, and with the speed of a thunder blast, they all rode -helter-skelter, in pursuit of their human prey. - - - - -CHAPTER LXI. - -THE CART AND THE STRAW. - - -While this was passing, the two girls continued their flight toward -Dublin city. They had not long passed Ashwoode and Nicholas Blarden, -when Mary's strength entirely failed, and she was forced first to -moderate her pace to a walk, and finally to stop altogether and seat -herself upon the bank which sloped abruptly down to the road. - -"Flora," said she, faintly, "I am quite exhausted--my strength is -entirely gone; I must perforce rest myself and take breath here for a -few minutes, and then, with God's help, I shall again have power to -proceed." - -"Do so, my lady," said Flora, taking her stand beside her mistress, -"and I'll watch and listen here by you. Hish! don't I hear the sound of -a car on the road before us?" - -So, indeed, it seemed, and at no great distance too. The road, however, -just where they had placed themselves, made a sweep which concealed the -vehicle, whatever it might be, effectually from their sight. The girl -clambered to the top of the bank, and thence commanding a view of that -part of the highway which beneath was hidden from sight, she beheld, -two or three hundred yards in advance of them, a horse and cart, the -driver of which was seated upon the shaft, slowly wending along in the -direction of the city. - -"My lady," said she, descending from her post of observation, "if you -have strength to run on for only a few perches more of the road, we'll -be up with a car, and get a lift into town without any more trouble; -try it, my lady." - -Accordingly they again set forth, and after a few minutes' further -exertion, they came up with the vehicle and accosted the driver, a -countryman, with a short pipe in his mouth, who, with folded arms, sat -listlessly upon the shaft. - -"Honest man, God bless you, and give us a bit of a lift," said Flora -Guy; "we've come a long way and very fast, and we are fairly tired to -death." - -The countryman drew the halter which he held, and uttering an -unspellable sound, addressed to his horse, succeeded in bringing him -and the vehicle to a standstill. - -"Never say it twiste," said he; "get up, and welcome. Wait a bit, till -I give the straw a turn for yees; not for it; step on the wheel; don't -be in dread, he won't move." - -So saying, he assisted Mary Ashwoode into the rude vehicle, and not -without wondering curiosity, for the hand which she extended to him was -white and slender, and glittered in the moonlight with jewelled rings. -Flora Guy followed; but before the cart was again in motion, they -distinctly heard the far-off clatter of galloping hoofs upon the road. -Their fears too truly accounted for these sounds. - -"Merciful God! we are pursued," said Mary Ashwoode; and then turning to -the driver, she continued, with an agony of imploring terror--"as you -look for pity at the dreadful hour when all shall need it, do not -betray us. If it be as I suspect, we are pursued--pursued with an -evil--a dreadful purpose. I had rather die a thousand deaths than fall -into the hands of those who are approaching." - -"Never fear," interrupted the man; "lie down flat both of you in the -cart and I'll hide you--never fear." - -They obeyed his directions, and he spread over their prostrate bodies a -covering of straw; not quite so thick, however, as their fears would -have desired; and thus screened, they awaited the approach of those -whom they rightly conjectured to be in hot pursuit of them. The man -resumed his seat upon the shaft, and once more the cart was in motion. - -Meanwhile, the sharp and rapid clang of the hoofs approached, and -before the horsemen had reached them, the voice of Nicholas Blarden was -shouting-- - -"Holloa--holloa, honest fellow--saw you two young women on the road?" - -There was scarcely time allowed for an answer, when the thundering -clang of the iron hoofs resounded beside the conveyance in which the -fugitives were lying, and the horsemen both, with a sudden and violent -exertion, brought their beasts to a halt, and so abruptly, that -although thrown back upon their haunches, the horses slid on for -several yards upon the hard road, by the mere impetus of their former -speed, knocking showers of fire flakes from the stones. - -"I say," repeated Blarden, "did two girls pass you on the road--did you -see them?" - -"Divil a sign of a girl I see," replied the man, carelessly; and to -their infinite relief, the two fugitives heard their pursuer, with a -muttered curse, plunge forward upon his way. This relief, however, was -but momentary, for checking his horse again, Blarden returned. - -"I say, my good chap, I passed you before to-night, not ten minutes -since, on my way out of town, not half-a-mile from this spot--the girls -were running this way, and if they're between this and the gate--they -must have passed you." - -"Devil a girl I seen this---- Oh, begorra! you're right, sure enough," -said the driver, "what the devil was I thinkin' about--two girls--one -of them tall and slim, with rings on her fingers--and the other a -short, active bit of a colleen?" - -"Ay--ay--ay," cried Blarden. - -"Sure enough they did overtake me," said the man, "shortly after I -passed two gentlemen--I suppose you are one of them--and the little one -axed me the direction of Harold's-cross--and when I showed it to them, -bedad they both made no more bones about it, but across the ditch with -them, an' away over the fields--they're half-way there by this time--it -was jist down there by the broken bridge--they were quare-looking -girls." - -"It would be d----d odd if they were not--they're both mad," replied -Blarden; "thank you for your hint." - -And so saying, as he turned his horse's head in the direction -indicated, he chucked a crown piece into the cart. As the conveyance -proceeded, they heard the driver soliloquizing with evident -satisfaction-- - -"Bedad, they'll have a plisint serenade through the fields, the two of -them," observed he, standing upon the shafts, and watching the progress -of the two horsemen--"there they go, begorra--over the ditch with them. -Oh, by the hokey, the sarvint boy's down--the heart's blood iv a -toss--an' oh, bloody wars! see the skelp iv the whip the big chap gives -him--there they go again down the slope--now for it--over the gripe -with them--well done, bedad, and into the green lane--devil take the -bushes, I can't see another sight iv them. Young women," he continued, -again assuming his sitting position, and replacing his pipe in the -corner of his mouth--"all's safe now--they're clean out of sight--you -may get up, miss." - -Accordingly, Mary Ashwoode and Flora Guy raised themselves. - -"Here," said the latter, extending her hand toward the driver, "here's -the silver he threw to you." - -"I wisht I could airn as much every day as aisily," said the man, -securing his prize; "that chap has raal villiany in his face; he looks -so like ould Nick, I'm half afeard to take his money; the crass of -Christ about us, I never seen such a face." - -"You're an honest boy at any rate," said Flora Guy, "you brought us -safe through the danger." - -"An' why wouldn't I--what else 'id I do?" rejoined the countryman; "it -wasn't for to sell you I was goin'." - -"You have earned my gratitude for ever," said Mary Ashwoode; "my -thanks, my prayers; you have saved me; your generosity, and humanity, -and pity, have delivered me from the deadliest peril that ever yet -overtook living creature. God bless you for it." - -She removed a ring from her finger, and added--"Take this; nay, do not -refuse so poor an acknowledgment for services inestimable." - -"No, miss, no," rejoined the countryman, warmly, "I'll not take it; -I'll not have it; do you think I could do anything else but what I did, -and you putting yourself into my hands the way you did, and trusting to -me, and laving yourselves in my power intirely? I'm not a Turk, nor an -unnatural Jew; may the devil have me, body and soul, the hour I take -money, or money's worth, for doin' the like." - -Seeing the man thus resolved, she forbore to irritate him by further -pressing the jewel on his acceptance, and he, probably to put an end to -the controversy, began to shake and chuck the rope halter with -extraordinary vehemence, and at the same time with the heel of his -brogue, to stimulate the lagging jade, accompanying the application -with a sustained hissing; the combined effect of all which was to cause -the animal to break into a kind of hobbling canter; and so they rumbled -and clattered over the stony road, until at length their charioteer -checked the progress of his vehicle before the hospitable door-way of -"The Bleeding Horse"--the little inn to which, in the commencement of -these records, we have already introduced the reader. - -"Hould that, if you plase," said he, placing the end of the halter in -Flora Guy's hand, "an' don't let him loose, or he'll be makin' for the -grass and have you upset in the ditch. I'll not be a minute in here; -and maybe the young lady and yourself 'id take a drop of something; the -evenin's mighty chill entirely." - -They both, of course, declined the hospitable proposal, and their -conductor, leaving them on the cart, entered the little hostelry; -outside the door were two or three cars and horses, whose owners were -boozing within; and feeling some return of confidence in the -consciousness that they were in the neighbourhood of persons who could, -and probably would, protect them, should occasion arise, Mary Ashwoode, -with her light mantle drawn around her, and the hood over her head, sat -along with her faithful companion, awaiting his return, under the -embowering shadow of the old trees. - -"Flora, I am sorely perplexed; I know not whither to go when we have -reached the city," said Mary, addressing her companion in a low tone. -"I have but one female relative residing in Dublin, and she would -believe, and think, and do, just as my brother might wish to make her. -Oh, woeful hour! that it should ever come to this--that I should fear -to trust another because she is my own brother's friend." - -She had hardly ceased to speak when a small man, with his cocked hat -set somewhat rakishly on one side, stepped forth from the little inn -door; he had just lighted his pipe, and was inhaling its smoke with -anxious attention lest the spark which he cherished should expire -before the ignition of the weed became sufficiently general; his walk -was therefore slow and interrupted; the top of his finger tenderly -moved the kindling tobacco, and his two eyes squinted with intense -absorption at the bowl of the pipe; by the time he had reached the back -of the cart in which Mary Ashwoode and her attendant were seated, his -labours were crowned by complete success, as was attested by the dense -volumes of smoke which at regular intervals he puffed forth. He carried -a cutting-whip under his arm, and was directing his steps toward a -horse which, with its bridle thrown over a gate-post, was patiently -awaiting his return. As he passed the rude vehicle in which the two -fugitives were couched, he happened to pause for a moment, and Mary -thought she recognized the figure before her as that of an old -acquaintance. - -"Is that Larry--Larry Toole?" inquired she. - -"It's myself, sure enough," rejoined that identical personage; "an' who -are you--a woman, to be sure, who else 'id be axin' for me?" - -"Larry, don't you know me?" said she. - -"Divil a taste," replied he. "I only see you're a female av coorse, why -wouldn't you, for, by the piper that played before Moses, I'm never out -of one romance till I'm into another." - -"Larry," said she, lowering her voice, "it is Miss Ashwoode who speaks -to you." - -"Don't be funnin' me, can't you?" rejoined Larry, rather pettishly. -"I've got enough iv the thricks iv women latterly; an' too much. I'm a -raal marthyr to famale mineuvers; there's a bump on my head as big as a -goose's egg, glory be to God! an' my bones is fairly aching with what -I've gone through by raison iv confidin' myself to the mercy of women. -Oh thunder----" - -"I tell you, Larry," repeated Mary, "I am, indeed, Miss Ashwoode." - -"No, but who are you, in earnest?" urged Larry Toole; "can't you put me -out iv pain at wonst; upon my sowl I don't know you from Moses this -blessed minute." - -"Well, Larry, although you cannot recognize my voice," said she, -turning back her hood so as to reveal her pale features in the -moonlight, "you have not forgotten my face." - -"Oh, blessed hour! Miss Mary," exclaimed Larry, in unfeigned amazement, -while he hurriedly thrust his pipe into his pocket, and respectfully -doffed his hat. - -"Hush, hush," said Mary, with a gesture of caution. "Put on your hat, -too; I wish to escape observation; put it on, Larry; it is my wish." - -Larry reluctantly complied. - -"Can you tell me where in town my uncle O'Leary is to be found?" -inquired she, eagerly. - -"Bedad, Miss Mary, he isn't in town at all," replied the man; "they say -he married a widdy lady about ten days ago; at any rate he's gone out -of town more than a week; I didn't hear where." - -"I know not whither to turn for help or counsel, Flora," said she, -despairingly, "my best friend is gone." - -"Well," said Larry--who, though entirely ignorant of the exact nature -of the young lady's fears, had yet quite sufficient shrewdness to -perceive that she was, indeed, involved in some emergency of -extraordinary difficulty and peril--"well, miss, maybe if you'd take a -fool's advice for once, it might turn out best," said Larry. "There's -an ould gentleman that knows all about your family; he was out at the -manor, and had a long discourse, himself and Sir Richard--God rest -him--a short time before the ould masther died; the gentleman's name is -Audley; and, though he never seen you but once, he wishes you well, and -'id go a long way to sarve you; an' above all, he's a raal rock iv -sinse. I'm not bad myself, but, begorra, I'm nothin' but a fool beside -him; now do you, Miss Mary, and the young girl that's along with you, -jist come in here; you can have a snug little room to yourselves, and -I'll go into town and have the ould gentleman out with you before you -know what you're about, or where you are; he'll ax no more than the -wind iv the word to bring him here in a brace iv shakes; and my name's -not Larry if he don't give you suparior advice." - -A slight thing determines a mind perplexed and desponding; and Mary -Ashwoode, feeling that whatever objection might well be started against -the plan proposed by Larry Toole, yet felt that, were it rejected, she -had none better to follow in its stead; anything rather than run the -risk of being placed again in her brother's keeping; there was no time -for deliberation, and therefore she at once adopted the suggestion. -Larry, accordingly, conducted them into the little inn, and consigned -them to the care of a haggard, slovenly girl, who, upon a hint from -that gentleman, conducted them to a little chamber, up a flight of -stairs, looking out upon the back yard, where, with a candle and a -scanty fire, she left the two anxious fugitives; and, as she descended, -they heard the clank of the iron shoes, as Larry spurred his horse into -a hard gallop, speeding like the wind upon his mission. - -The receding sounds of his rapid progress had, however, hardly ceased -to be heard, when the fears and anxieties which had been for a moment -forgotten, returned with heavier pressure upon the poor girl's heart, -and she every moment expected to hear the dreaded voices of her -pursuers in the passage beneath, or to see their faces entering at the -door. Thus restlessly and fearfully she awaited the return of her -courier. - - - - -CHAPTER LXII. - -THE COUNCIL--SHOWING WHAT ADVICE MR. AUDLEY GAVE, AND HOW IT WAS TAKEN. - - -Larry Toole was true to his word. Without turning from the direct -course, or pausing on his way for one moment, he accomplished the -service which he had volunteered, and in an incredibly short time -returned to the little inn, bringing Mr. Audley with him in a coach. - -With an air of importance and mystery, suitable to the occasion, the -little gentleman, followed by his attendant, proceeded to the chamber -where Miss Ashwoode and her maid were awaiting his arrival. Mary arose -as he entered the room, and Larry, from behind, ejaculated, in a tone -of pompous exultation, "Here he is, Miss Mary--Mr. Audley himself, an' -no mistake." - -"Tut, tut, Larry," exclaimed the little gentleman, turning impatiently -toward that personage, whose obstreperous announcement had disarranged -his plans of approach; "hold your tongue, Larry, I say--ahem!" - -"Mr. Audley," said Mary, "I hope you will pardon----" - -"Not one word of the kind--excuse the interruption--not a word," -exclaimed the little gentleman, gallantly waving his hand--"only too -much honour--too proud, Miss Ashwoode, I have long known something of -your family, and, strange as it may appear, have felt a peculiar -interest in you--although I had not the honour of your acquaintance--for -the sake of--of other parties. I have ever entertained a warm regard -for your welfare, and although circumstances are much, very much -changed, I cannot forget relations that once subsisted--ahem!" This was -said diplomatically, and he blew his nose with a short decisive twang. -"I understand, my poor young lady," he continued, relapsing into the -cordial manner that was natural to him, "that you are at this moment in -circumstances of difficulty, perhaps of danger, and that you have been -disappointed in this emergency by the absence of your relative, Major -O'Leary, with whose acquaintance, by-the-bye, I am honoured, and a more -worthy, warm-hearted--but no matter--in his absence, then, I venture to -tender my poor services--pray, if it be not too bold a request, tell me -fully and fairly, the nature of your embarrassment; and if zeal, -activity, and the friendliest dispositions can avail to extricate you, -you may command them all--pray, then, let me know what I _can_ do to -serve you." So saying, the old gentleman took the pale and lovely -lady's hand, with a mixture of tenderness and respect which encouraged -and assured her. - -Larry having withdrawn, she told the little gentleman all that she -could communicate, without disclosing her brother's implication in the -conspiracy. Even this reserve, the old gentleman's warm and kindly -manner, and the good-natured simplicity, apparent in all he said and -did, effectually removed, and the whole case, in all its bearings, and -with all its circumstances, was plainly put before him. During the -narrative, the little gentleman was repeatedly so transported with ire -as to slap his thigh, sniff violently, and mutter incoherent -ejaculations between his teeth; and when it was ended, was so far -overcome by his feelings, that he did not trust himself to address the -young lady, until he had a little vented his indignation by marching -and countermarching, at quick time, up and down the room, blowing his -nose with desperate abandonment, and muttering sundry startling -interjections. At length he grew composed, and addressing Mary -Ashwoode, observed,-- - -"You are quite right, my dear young lady--quite right, indeed, in -resolving against putting yourself into the hands of anybody under Sir -Henry's influence--perfectly right and wise. Have you _no_ relatives in -this country, none capable of protecting you, and willing to do so?" - -"I have, indeed, one relative," rejoined she, but----" - -"Who is it?" interrupted Audley. - -"An uncle," replied Mary. - -"His name, my dear--his name?" inquired the old gentleman, impatiently. - -"His name is French--Oliver French," replied she, "but----" - -"Never mind," interrupted Audley again, "where does he live?" - -"He lives in an old place called Ardgillagh," rejoined she, "on the -borders of the county of Limerick." - -"Is it easily found out?--near the high road from Dublin?--near any -town?--easily got at?" inquired he, with extra-ordinary volubility. - -"I've heard my brother say," rejoined she, "that it is not far from the -high road from Dublin; he was there himself. I believe the place is -well known by the peasantry for many miles round; but----" - -"Very good, very good, my dear," interposed Mr. Audley again. "Has he a -family--a wife?" - -"No," rejoined Mary; "he is unmarried, and an old man." - -"Pooh, pooh! why the devil hasn't he a wife? but no matter, you'll be -all the welcomer. That's our ground--all the safer that it's a little -out of the way," exclaimed the old man. "We'll steal a march--they'll -never suspect us; we'll start at once." - -"But I fear," said Mary, dejectedly, "that he will not receive me. -There has long been an estrangement between our family and him; with my -father he had a deadly quarrel while I was yet an infant. He vowed that -neither my father nor any child of his should ever cross his threshold. -I've been told he bitterly resented what he believed to have been my -father's harsh treatment of my mother. I was too young, however, to -know on which side the right of the quarrel was; but I fear there is -little hope of his doing as you expect, for some six or seven years -since my brother was sent down, in the hope of a reconciliation, and in -vain. He returned, reporting that my uncle Oliver had met all his -advances with scorn. No, no, I fear--I greatly fear he will not receive -me." - -"Never believe it--never think so," rejoined old Audley, warmly; "if he -were man enough to resent your mother's wrongs, think you his heart -will have no room for yours? Think you his nature's changed, that he -cannot pity the distressed, and hate tyranny any longer? Never believe -me, if he won't hug you to his heart the minute he sees you. I like the -old chap; he was right to be angry--it was his duty to be in a -confounded passion; he ought to have been kicked if he hadn't done just -as he did--I'd swear he was right. Never trust me, if he'll not take -your part with his whole heart, and make you his pet for as long as you -please to stay with him. Deuce take him, I like the old fellow." - -"You would advise me, then, to apply to him for protection?" asked Mary -Ashwoode, "and I suppose to go down there immediately." - -"Most unquestionably so," replied Mr. Audley, with a short nod of -decision--"most unquestionably--start to-night; we shall go as far as -the town of Naas; I will accompany you. I consider you my ward until -your natural protectors take you under their affectionate charge, and -guard you from grief and danger as they ought. My good girl," he -continued, addressing Flora Guy, "you must come along with your -mistress; I've a coach at the door. We shall go directly into town, and -my landlady shall take you both under her care until I have procured -two chaises, the one for myself, and the other for your mistress and -you. You will find Mrs. Pickley, my landlady, a very kind, excellent -person, and ready to assist you in making your preparations for the -journey." - -The old gentleman then led his young and beautiful charge, with a -mixture of gallantry and pity, by the hand down the little inn stairs, -and in a very brief time Mary Ashwoode and her faithful attendant found -themselves under the hospitable protection of Mrs. Pickley's roof-tree. - - - - -CHAPTER LXIII. - -PARTING--THE SHELTERED VILLAGE, AND THE JOURNEY'S END. - - -Never was little gentleman in such a fuss as Mr. Audley--never were so -many orders issued and countermanded and given again--never were Larry -Toole's energies so severely tried and his intellects so -distracted--impossible tasks and contradictory orders so "huddled on -his back," that he well nigh went mad under the burthen; at length, -however, matters were arranged, two coaches with post-horses were -brought to the door, Mary Ashwoode and her attendant were deposited in -one, along with such extempore appliances for wardrobe and toilet as -Mrs. Pickley, in a hurried excursion, was enabled to collect from the -neighbouring shops and pack up for the journey, and Mr. Audley stood -ready to take his place in the other. - -"Larry," said he, before ascending, "here are ten guineas, which will -keep you in bread and cheese until you hear from me again; don't on any -account leave the 'Cock and Anchor,' your master's horse and luggage -are there, and, no doubt, whenever he returns to Dublin, which I am -very certain must soon occur, he will go directly thither; so be you -sure to meet him there, should he happen during my absence to arrive; -and mark me, be very careful of this letter, give it him the moment you -see him, which, please God, will be very soon indeed; keep it in some -safe place--don't carry it in your breeches pocket, you blockhead, -you'll grind it to powder, booby! indeed, now that I think on't, you -had better give it at once in charge to the innkeeper of the 'Cock and -Anchor;' don't forget, on your life I charge you, and now good-night." - -"Good-night, and good luck, your honour, and may God speed you!" -ejaculated Larry, as the vehicles rumbled away. The charioteers had -received their directions, and Mary Ashwoode and her trusty companion, -confused and bewildered by the rapidity with which events had succeeded -one another during the day, and stunned by the magnitude of the dangers -which they had so narrowly escaped, found themselves, scarcely -crediting the evidence of their senses, rapidly traversing the interval -which separated Dublin city from the little town of Naas. - -It is not our intention to weary our readers with a detailed account of -the occurrences of the journey, nor to present them with a catalogue of -all the mishaps and delays to which Irish posting in those days, and -indeed much later, was liable; it is enough to state that upon the -evening of the fourth day the two carriages clattered into the wretched -little village which occupied the road on which opened the avenue -leading up to the great house of Ardgillagh. The village, though -obviously the abode of little comfort or cheerfulness, was not on that -account the less picturesque; the road wound irregularly where it -stood, and was carried by an old narrow bridge across a wayward -mountain stream which wheeled and foamed in many a sportive eddy within -its devious banks. Close by, the little mill was couched among the -sheltering trees, which, extending in irregular and scattered groups -through the village, and mingling with the stunted bushes and briars of -the hedges, were nearly met from the other side of the narrow street by -the broad branching limbs of the giant trees which skirted the wild -wooded domain of Ardgillagh. Thus occupying a sweeping curve of the -road, and embowered among the shadowy arches of the noble timber, the -little village had at first sight an air of tranquillity, seclusion, -and comfort, which made the traveller pause to contemplate its simple -attractions and to admire how it could be that a few wretched hovels -with crazy walls and thatch overgrown with weeds, thus irregularly -huddled together beneath the rude shelter of the wood, could make a -picture so pleasing to the eye and so soothing to the heart. The -vehicles were drawn up by their drivers before the door of a small -thatched building which, however, stood a whole head and shoulders -higher than the surrounding hovels, exhibiting a second storey with -three narrow windows in front, and over its doorway, from which a large -pig, under the stimulus of a broomstick, was majestically issuing, a -sign-board, the admiration of connoisseurs for miles round, presenting -a half-length portrait of the illustrious Brian Borhome, and admitted -to be a startling likeness. Before this mansion--the only one in the -place which pretended to the character of a house of public -entertainment--the post-boys drew bridle, and brought the vehicles to a -halt. Mr. Audley was upon the road in an instant, and with fussy -gallantry assisting Mary Ashwoode to descend. Their sudden arrival had -astounded the whole household--consternation and curiosity filled the -little establishment. The proprietor, who sat beneath the capacious -chimney, started to his feet, swallowing, in his surprise, a whole -potato, which he was just deliberately commencing, and by a miracle -escaped choking. The landlady dropped a pot, which she was scrubbing, -upon the back of a venerable personage who was in a stooping posture, -lighting his pipe, and inadvertently wiped her face in the pot clout; -everybody did something wrong, and nobody anything right; the dog was -kicked and the cat scalded, and in short, never was known in the little -village of Ardgillagh, within the memory of man, except when Ginckle -marched his troops through the town, such a universal hubbub as that -which welcomed the two chaises and their contents to the door of Pat -Moroney's hospitable mansion. - -Mrs. Moroney, with more lampblack upon her comely features than she was -at that moment precisely aware of, hastened to the door, which she -occupied as completely and exclusively as the corpulent specimen of -Irish royalty over her head did his proper sign-board; all the time -gazing with an admiring grin upon Mr. Audley and the lady whom he -assisted to descend; and at exceedingly short and irregular intervals, -executing sundry slight ducks, intended to testify her exuberant -satisfaction and respect, while all around and about her were thrust -the wondering visages of the less important inmates of the -establishment; many were the murmured criticisms, and many the -ejaculations of admiration and surprise, which accompanied every -movement of the party under observation. - -"Oh! but she's a fine young lady, God bless her!" said one. - -"But isn't she mighty pale, though, entirely?" observed another. - -"That's her father--the little stout gentleman; see how he houlds her -hand for fear she'd thrip comin' out. Oh! but he's a nate man!" -remarked a third. - -"An' her hand as white as milk; an' look at her fine rings," said a -fourth. - -"She's a rale lady; see the grand look of her, and the stately step, -God bless her!" said a fifth. - -"See, see; here's another comin' out; that's her sisther," remarked -another. - -"Hould your tongues, will yees?" ejaculated the landlady, jogging her -elbow at random into somebody's mouth. - -"An' see the little one taking the box in her hand," observed one. - -"Look at the tall lady, how she smiles at her, God bless her! she's a -rale good lady," remarked another. - -"An' now she's linkin' with him, and here they come, by gorra," -exclaimed a third. - -"Back with yees, an' lave the way," exclaimed Mrs. Moroney; "don't you -see the quality comin'?" - -Accordingly, with a palpitating heart, the worthy mistress of King -Brian Borhome prepared to receive her aristocratic guests. With due -state and ceremony she conducted them into the narrow chamber which, -except the kitchen, was the only public apartment in the establishment. -After due attention to his fair charge, Mr. Audley inquired of the -hostess,-- - -"Pray, my good worthy woman, are we not now within a mile or less of -the entrance into the domain of Ardgillagh?" - -"The gate's not two perches down the road, your honour," replied she; -"is it to the great house you want to go, sir?" - -"Yes, my good woman; certainly," replied he. - -"Come here, Shawneen, come, asthore!" cried she, through the half-open -door. "I'll send the little gossoon with you, your honour; he'll show -you the way, and keep the dogs off, for they all knows him up at the -great house. Here, Shawneen; this gintleman wants to be showed the way -up to the great house; and don't let the dogs near him; do you mind? He -hasn't much English," said she, turning to her guest, by way of -apology, and then conveying her directions anew in the mother tongue. - -Under the guidance of this ragged little urchin, Mr. Audley accordingly -set forth upon his adventurous excursion. - -Mrs. Moroney brought in bread, milk, eggs, and in short, the best cheer -which her limited resources could supply; and, although Mary Ashwoode -was far too anxious about the result of Mr. Audley's visit to do more -than taste the tempting bowl of new milk which was courteously placed -before her, Flora Guy, with right good will and hearty appetite, did -ample justice to the viands which the hostess provided. - -After some idle talk between herself and Flora Guy, Mrs. Moroney -observed in reply to an interrogatory from the girl,-- - -"Twenty or thirty years ago there wasn't such a fox-hunter in the -country as Mr. French; but he's this many a year ailing, and winter -after winter, it's worse and worse always he's getting, until at last -he never stirs out at all; and for the most part he keeps his bed." - -"Is anyone living with him?" inquired Flora. - -"No, none of his family," answered she; "no one at all, you may say; -there's no one does anything in his place, an' very seldom anyone sees -him except Mistress Martha and Black M'Guinness; them two has him all -to themselves; and, indeed, there's quare stories goin' about them." - - - - -CHAPTER LXIV. - -MISTRESS MARTHA AND BLACK M'GUINNESS. - - -Mr. Audley, preceded by his little ragged guide, walked thoughtfully on -his way to visit the old gentleman, of whose oddities and strange and -wayward temper the keeper of the place where they had last obtained a -relay of horses had given a marvellous and perhaps somewhat exaggerated -account. Now that he had reached the spot, and that the moment -approached which was to be the crisis of the adventure, he began to -feel far less confident of success than he had been while the issue of -his project was comparatively remote. - -They passed down the irregular street of the village, and beneath the -trees which arched overhead like the vast and airy aisles of some huge -Gothic pile, and after a short walk of some two or three hundred yards, -during which they furnished matter of interesting speculation to half -the village idlers, they reached a rude gate of great dimensions, but -which had obviously seen better days. There was no lodge or gate-house, -and Mr. Audley followed the little conductor over a stile, which -occupied the side of one of the great ivy-mantled stone piers; crossing -this, he found himself in the demesne. A broken and irregular avenue or -bridle track--for in most places it was little more--led onward over -hill and through hollow, along the undulations of the soft green sward, -and under the fantastic boughs of gnarled thorns and oaks and sylvan -birches, which in thick groups, wild and graceful as nature had placed -them, clothed the varied slopes. The rude approach which they followed -led them a wayward course over every variety of ground--now flat and -boggy, again up hill, and over the grey surface of lichen-covered -rocks--again down into deep fern-clothed hollows, and then across the -shallow, brawling stream, without bridge or appliance of any kind, but -simply through its waters, forced, as best they might, to pick their -steps upon the moss-grown stones that peeped above the clear devious -current. Thus they passed along through this wild and extensive -demesne, varied by a thousand inequalities of ground and by the -irregular grouping of the woods, which owed their picturesque -arrangement to the untutored fancies of nature herself, whose dominion -had there never known the intrusions of the axe, or the spade, or the -pruning-hook, but exulted in the unshackled indulgence of all her -wildest revelry. After a walk of more than half-an-hour's duration, -through a long vista among the trees, the grey gable of the old mansion -of Ardgillagh, with its small windows and high and massive chimney -stacks, presented itself. - -There was a depressing air of neglect and desertion about the old -place, which even the unimaginative temperament of Mr. Audley was -obliged to acknowledge. Rank weeds and grass had forced their way -through the pavement of the courtyard, and crowded in patches of -vegetation even to the very door of the house. The same was observable, -in no less a degree, in the great stable-yard, the gate of which, -unhinged, lay wide open, exhibiting a range of out-houses and stables, -which would have afforded lodging for horse and man to a whole regiment -of dragoons. Two men, one of them in livery, were loitering through the -courtyard, apparently not very well knowing what to do with themselves; -and as the visitors approached, a whole squadron of dogs, the little -ones bouncing in front with shrill alarm, and the more formidable, at a -majestic canter and with deep-mouthed note of menace, bringing up the -rear, came snarling, barking, and growling, towards the intruders at -startling speed. - -"Piper, Piper, Toby, Fan, Motheradauna, Boxer, Boxer, Toby!" screamed -the little guide, advancing a few yards before Mr. Audley, who, in -considerable uneasiness, grasped his walking cane with no small energy. -The interposition of the urchin was successful, the dogs recognized -their young friend, the angry clangour was hushed and their pace -abated, and when they reached Mr. Audley and his guide, in compliment -to the latter they suffered the little gentleman to pass on, with no -further question than a few suspicious sniffs, as they applied their -noses to the calves of that gentleman's legs. As they continued to -approach, the men in the court, now alarmed by the vociferous challenge -of the dogs, eyed the little gentleman inquisitively, for a visitor at -Ardgillagh was a thing that had not been heard of for years. As Mr. -Audley's intention became more determinate, and his design appeared -more unequivocally to apply for admission, the servant, who watched his -progress, ran by some hidden passage in the stable-yard into the -mansion and was ready to gratify his curiosity legitimately, by taking -his post in the hall in readiness to answer Mr. Audley's summons, and -to hold parley with him at the door. - -"Is Mr. French at home?" inquired Mr. Audley. - -"Ay, sir, he is at home," rejoined the man, deliberately, to allow -himself time fully to scrutinize the visitor's outward man. - -"Can I see him, pray?" asked the little gentleman. - -"Why, raly, sir, I can't exactly say," observed the man, scratching his -head. "He's upstairs in his own chamber--indeed, for that matter, he's -seldom out of it. If you'll walk into the room there, sir, I'll -inquire." - -Accordingly, Mr. Audley entered the apartment indicated and sat himself -down in the deep recess of the window to take breath. He well knew the -kind of person with whom he had to deal, previously to encountering -Oliver French in person. He had heard quite enough of Mistress Martha -and of Black M'Guinness already, to put him upon his guard, and fill -him with just suspicions as to their character and designs; he -therefore availed himself of the little interval to arrange his plans -of operation in his own mind. He had not waited long, when the door -opened, and a tall, elderly woman, with a bunch of keys at her side, -and arrayed in a rich satin dress, walked demurely into the room. There -was something unpleasant and deceitful in the expression of the -half-closed eyes and thin lips of this lady which inspired Mr. Audley -with instinctive dislike of her--an impression which was rather -heightened than otherwise by the obvious profusion with which her -sunken and sallow cheeks were tinged with rouge. This demure and -painted lady made a courtesy on seeing Mr. Audley, and in a low and -subdued tone which well accorded with her meek exterior, inquired,-- - -"You were asking for Mr. Oliver French, sir?" - -"Yes, madam," replied Mr. Audley, returning the salute with a bow as -formal; "I wish much to see him, if he could afford me half an hour's -chat." - -"Mr. French is very ill--very--very poorly, indeed," said Mistress -Martha, closing her eyes, and shaking her head. "He dislikes talking to -strangers. Are you a relative, pray, sir?" - -"Not I, madam--not at all, madam," rejoined Mr. Audley. - -A silence ensued, during which he looked out for a minute at the view -commanded by the window; and as he did so, he observed with the corner -of his eyes that the lady was studying him with a severe and searching -scrutiny. She was the first to break the silence. - -"I suppose it's about business you want to see him?" inquired she, -still looking at him with the same sharp glance. - -"Just so," rejoined Mr. Audley; "it is indeed upon business." - -"He dislikes transacting business or speaking of it himself," said she. -"He always employs his own man, Mr. M'Guinness. I'll call Mr. -M'Guinness, that you may communicate the matter to him." - -"You must excuse me," said Mr. Audley. "My instructions are to give my -message to Mr. Oliver French in person--though indeed there's no secret -in the matter. The fact is, Madam, my mission is of a kind which ought -to make me welcome. You understand me? I come here to announce a--a--an -acquisition, in short a sudden and, I believe, a most unexpected -acquisition. But perhaps I've said too much; the facts are for his own -ear solely. Such are my instructions; and you know I have no choice. -I've posted all the way from Dublin to execute the message; and between -ourselves, should he suffer this occasion to escape him, he may never -again have an opportunity of making such an addition to--but I must -hold my tongue--I'm prating against orders. In a word, madam, I'm -greatly mistaken, or it will prove the best news that has been told in -this house since its master was christened." - -He accompanied his announcement with a prodigious number of nods and -winks of huge significance, and all designed to beget the belief that -he carried in his pocket the copy of a will, or other instrument, -conveying to the said Oliver French of Ardgillagh the gold mines of -Peru, or some such trifle. - -Mistress Martha paused, looked hard at him, then reflected again. At -length she said, with the air of a woman who has made up her mind,-- - -"I dare to say, sir, it _is_ possible for you to see Mr. French. He is -a little better to-day. You'll promise not to fatigue him--but you must -first see Mr. M'Guinness. He can tell better than I whether his master -is sufficiently well to-day for an interview of the kind." - -So saying, Mrs. Martha sailed, with saint-like dignity, from the room. - -"_She_ rules the roost, I believe," said Mr. Audley within himself. "If -so, all's smooth from this forth. Here comes the gentleman, -however--and, by the laws, a very suitable co-mate for that painted -Jezebel." - -As Mr. Audley concluded this criticism, a small man, with a greasy and -dingy complexion, and in a rusty suit of black, made his appearance. - -This individual was, if possible, more subdued, meek, and -Christian-like than the lady who had just evacuated the room in his -favour. His eyes were, if possible, habitually more nearly closed; his -step was as soft and cat-like to the full; and, in a word, he was in -air, manner, gait, and expression as like his accomplice as a man can -well be to one of the other sex. - -A short explanation having passed between this person and Mr. Audley, -he retired for a few minutes to prepare his master for the visit, and -then returning, conducted the little bachelor upstairs. - - - - -CHAPTER LXV. - -THE CONFERENCE--SHOWING HOW OLIVER FRENCH BURST INTO A RAGE AND FLUNG -HIS CAP ON THE FLOOR. - - -Mr. Audley followed Black M'Guinness as we have said up the stairs, and -was, after an introductory knock at the door, ushered by him into -Oliver French's bed-room. Its arrangements were somewhat singular--a -dressing-table with all the appliances of the most elaborate -cultivation of the graces, and a huge mirror upon it, stood directly -opposite to the door; against the other wall, between the door and this -table, was placed a massive sideboard covered with plate and wine -flasks, cork-screws and cold meat, in the most admired disorder--two -large presses were also visible, one of which lay open, exhibiting -clothes, and papers, and other articles piled together in a highly -original manner--two or three very beautiful pictures hung upon the -walls. At the far end of the room stood the bed, and at one side of it -a table covered with wines and viands, and at the other, a large -iron-bound chest, with a heavy bunch of keys dangling from its lock--a -little shelf, too, occupied the wall beside the invalid, abundantly -stored with tall phials with parchment labels, and pill-boxes and -gallipots innumerable. In the bed, surrounded by the drapery of the -drawn curtains, lay, or rather sat, Oliver French himself, propped up -by the pillows: he was a corpulent man, with a generous double chin; a -good-natured grey eye twinkled under a bushy, grizzled eye-brow, and a -countenance which bore unequivocally the lines of masculine beauty, -although considerably disfigured by the traces of age, as well as of -something very like intemperance and full living: he wore a silk -night-gown and a shirt of snowy whiteness, with lace ruffles, and on -his head was a crimson velvet cap. - -Grotesque as were the arrangements of the room, there was, -nevertheless, about its occupant an air of aristocratic superiority and -ease which at once dispelled any tendency to ridicule. - -"Mr. Audley, I presume," said the invalid. - -Mr. Audley bowed. - -"Pray, sir, take a chair. M'Guinness, place a chair for Mr. Audley, -beside the table here. I am, as you see, sir," continued he, "a -confirmed valetudinarian; I suffer abominably from gout, and have not -been able to remove to my easy chair by the fire for more than a week. -I understand that you have some matters of importance to communicate to -me; but before doing so, let me request of you to take a little wine, -you can have whatever you like best--there's some Madeira at your elbow -there, which I can safely recommend, as I have just tasted it -myself--o-oh! d---- the gout--you'll excuse me, sir--a cursed twinge." - -"Very sorry to see you suffering," responded Mr. Audley--"very, indeed, -sir." - -"It sha'n't, however, prevent my doing you reason, sir," replied he, -with alacrity. "M'Guinness, two glasses. I drink, sir, to our better -acquaintance. Now, M'Guinness, you may leave the room." - -Accordingly Mr. M'Guinness withdrew, and the gentlemen were left -_tete-a-tete_. - -"And now, sir," continued Oliver French, "be so good as to open the -subject of your visit." - -Mr. Audley cleared his voice twice or thrice, in the hope of clearing -his head at the same time, and then, with some force and embarrassment, -observed,-- - -"I am necessarily obliged, Mr. French, to allude to matters which may -possibly revive unpleasant recollections. I trust, indeed, my dear -sir,--I'm sure that you will not suffer yourself to be distressed or -unduly excited, when I tell you that I must recall to your memory a -name which I believe does not sound gratefully to your ear--the name of -Ashwoode." - -"Curse them," was the energetic commentary of the invalid. - -"Well, sir, I dare venture to say that you and I are not very much at -variance in our estimate of the character of the Ashwoodes generally," -said Mr. Audley. "You are aware, I presume, that Sir Richard has been -some time dead." - -"Ha! actually _gone_ to hell?--no, sir, I was not aware of this. Pray, -proceed, sir," responded Oliver French. - -"I am aware, sir, that he treated his lady harshly," resumed Audley. - -"Harshly, _harshly_, sir," cried the old man, with an energy that well -nigh made his companion bounce from his seat--"why, sir, beginning with -neglect and ending with blows--through every stage of savage insult and -injury, his wretched wife, my sister--the most gentle, trusting, lovely -creature that ever yet was born to misery, was dragged by that inhuman -monster, her husband, Sir Richard Ashwoode; he broke her heart--he -killed her, sir--_killed_ her. She was my sister--my only sister; I was -justly proud of her--loved her most dearly, and the inhuman villain -broke her heart." - -Through his clenched teeth he uttered a malediction, and with a -vehemence of hatred which plainly showed that his feelings toward the -family had undergone no favourable change. - -"Well, sir," resumed Mr. Audley, after a considerable interval, "I -cannot wonder at the strength of your feelings in this matter, more -especially at this moment. I myself burn with indignation scarce one -degree less intense than yours against the worthy son of that most -execrable man, and upon grounds, too, very nearly similar." - -He then proceeded to recount to his auditor, waxing warm as he went on, -all the circumstances of Mary Ashwoode's sufferings, and every -particular of the grievous persecution which she had endured at the -hands of her brother, Sir Henry. Oliver French ground his teeth and -clutched the bed-clothes as he listened, and when the narrative was -ended, he whisked the velvet cap from his head, and flung it with all -his force upon the floor. - -"Oh, God Almighty! that I had but the use of my limbs," exclaimed he, -with desperation--"I would give the whole world a lesson in the person -of that despicable scoundrel. I would--but," he added bitterly, "I am -powerless--I am a cripple." - -"You are not powerless, sir, for purposes nobler than revenge," -exclaimed Audley, with eagerness; "you may shelter and protect the -helpless, friendless child of calamity, the story of whose wrongs has -so justly fired you with indignation." - -"Where is she--where?" cried Oliver French, eagerly--"I ought to have -asked you long ago." - -"She is not far away--she even now awaits your decision in the little -village hard by," responded Mr. Audley. - -"Poor child--poor child!" ejaculated Oliver, much agitated. "And did -she--could she doubt my willingness to befriend her--good God--could -she doubt it?--bring her--bring her here at once--I long to see -her--poor bird--poor bird--the world's winter has closed over thee too -soon. Alas! poor child--tell her--tell her, Mr. Audley, that I long to -see her--that she is most welcome--that all which I command is heartily -and entirely at her service. Plead my apology for not going myself to -meet her--as God knows I would fain do; you see I am a poor cripple--a -very worthless, helpless, good-for-nothing old man. Tell her all better -than I can do it now. God bless you, sir--God bless you, for believing -that such an ill-conditioned old fellow as I am had yet heart enough to -feel rightly sometimes. I had rather die a thousand deaths than that -you had not brought the poor outcast child to my roof. Tell her how -glad--how very, very happy--how proud it makes me that she should come -to her old uncle Oliver--tell her this. God bless you, sir!" - -With a cordial pressure, he gripped Audley's hand, and the old -gentleman, with a heart overflowing with exultation and delight, -retraced his steps to the little village, absolutely bursting with -impatience to communicate the triumphant result of his visit. - - - - -CHAPTER LXVI. - -THE BED-CHAMBER. - - -Black M'Guinness and Mistress Martha had listened in vain to catch the -purport of Mr. Audley's communication. Unfortunately for them, their -master's chamber was guarded by a double door, and his companion had -taken especial pains to close both of them before detailing the subject -of his visit. They were, however a good deal astonished by Mr. French's -insisting upon rising forthwith, and having himself clothed and shaved. -This huge, good-natured lump of gout was, accordingly, arrayed in full -suit--one of the handsomest which his wardrobe commanded--his velvet -cap replaced by a flowing peruke--his gouty feet smothered in endless -flannels, and himself deposited in his great easy chair by the fire, -and his lower extremities propped up upon stools and pillows. These -preparations, along with a complete re-arrangement of the furniture, -and other contents of the room, effectually perplexed and somewhat -alarmed his disinterested dependents. - -Mr. Audley returned ere the preparations were well completed, and -handed Mary Ashwoode and her attendant from the chaise. It needs not to -say how the old bachelor of Ardgillagh received her--with, perhaps, the -more warmth and tenderness that, as he protested, with tears in his -eyes, she was so like her poor mother, that he felt as if old times had -come again, and that she stood once more before him, clothed in the -melancholy beauty of her early and ill-fated youth. It were idle to -describe the overflowing kindness of the old man's greeting, and the -depth of gratitude with which his affectionate and hearty welcome was -accepted by the poor grieved girl. He would scarcely, for the whole -evening, allow her to leave him for one moment; and every now and again -renewed his pressing invitation to her and to Mr. Audley to take some -more wine or some new delicacy; he himself enforcing his solicitations -by eating and drinking in almost unbroken continuity during the whole -time. All his habits were those of the most unlimited self-indulgence; -and his chief, if not his sole recreation for years, had consisted in -compounding, during the whole day long, those astounding gastronomic -combinations, which embraced every possible variety of wine and -liqueur, of vegetable, meat, and confection; so that the fact of his -existing at all, under the extraordinary regimen which he had adopted, -was a triumph of the genius of digestion over the demon of dyspepsia, -such as this miserable world has seldom witnessed. Nevertheless, that -he did exist, and that too, apparently, in robust though unwieldy -health, with the exception of his one malady, his constitutional gout, -was a fact which nobody could look upon and dispute. With an -imperiousness which brooked no contradiction, he compelled Mr. Audley -to eat and drink very greatly more than he could conveniently -contain--browbeating the poor little gentleman into submission, and -swearing, in the most impressive manner, that he had not eaten one -ounce weight of food of any kind since his entrance into the house; -although the unhappy little gentleman felt at that moment like a boa -constrictor who has just bolted a buffalo, and pleaded in stifled -accents for quarter; but it would not do. Oliver French, Esq., had not -had his humour crossed, nor one of his fancies contradicted, for the -last forty years, and he was not now to be thwarted or put down by a -little "hop-o'-my-thumb," who, though ravenously hungry, pretended, -through mere perverseness, to be bursting with repletion. Mr. Audley's -labours were every now and again pleasingly relieved by such -applications as these from his merciless entertainer. - -"Now, my good friend--my worthy friend--will you think it too great a -liberty, sir, if I ask you to move the pillow a _leetle_ under this -foot?" - -"None in the world, sir--quite the contrary--I shall have the very -greatest possible pleasure," would poor Mr. Audley reply, preparing for -the task. - -"You are very good, sir, very kind, sir. Just draw it quietly to the -right--a little, a very little--you are very good, indeed, sir. Oh--oh, -O--oh, you--you booby--you'll excuse me, sir--gently--there, -there--gently, gently. O--oh, you d----d handless idiot--pray pardon -me, sir; that will do." - -Such passages as these were of frequent occurrence; but though Mr. -Audley was as choleric as most men at his time of life, yet the -incongruous terms of abuse were so obviously the result of inveterate -and almost unconscious habit, stimulated by the momentary twinges of -acute pain, that he did not suffer this for an instant to disturb the -serenity and goodwill with which he regarded his host, spite of all his -oddities and self-indulgence. - -In the course of the evening Oliver French ordered Mistress Martha to -have beds prepared for the party, and that lady, with rather a vicious -look, withdrew. She soon returned, and asked in her usual low, dulcet -tone, whether the young lady could spare her maid to assist in -arranging the room, and forthwith Flora Guy consigned herself to the -guidance of the sinister-looking Abigail. - -"This is a fine country, isn't it?" inquired Mistress Martha, softly, -when they were quite alone. - -"A very fine country, indeed, ma'am," rejoined Flora, who had heard -enough to inspire her with a certain awe of her conductress, which -inclined her as much as possible to assent to whatever proposition she -might be inclined to advance, without herself hazarding much original -matter. - -"It's a pity you can't see it in the summer time; this is a very fine -place indeed when all the leaves are on the trees," repeated Mistress -Martha. - -"Indeed, so I'd take it to be, ma'am," rejoined the maid. - -"Just passing through this way--hurried like, you can't notice much -about it though," remarked the elderly lady, carelessly. - -"No, ma'am," replied Flora, becoming more reserved, as she detected in -her companion a wish to draw from her all she knew of her mistress's -plans. - -"There are some views that are greatly admired in the -neighbourhood--the glen and the falls of Glashangower. If she could -stay a week she might see everything." - -"Oh! indeed, it's a lovely place," observed Flora, evasively. - -"That old gentleman, that Mr. Audley, your young mistress's father, -or--or uncle, or whatever he is"--Mistress Martha here made a -considerable pause, but Flora did not enlighten her, and she -continued--"whatever he is to her, it's no matter, he seems a very -good-humoured nice old gentleman--he's in a great hurry back to Dublin, -where he came from, I suppose." - -"Well, I really don't know," replied the girl. - -"He looks very comfortable, and everything handsome and nice about -him," observed Mistress Martha again. "I suppose he's well off--plenty -of money--not in want at all." - -"Indeed he seems all that," rejoined the maid. - -"He's cousin, or something or another, to the master, Mr. French; -didn't you tell me so?" asked the painted Abigail. - -"No, ma'am; I didn't tell you; I don't know," replied she. - -"This is a very damp old house, and full of rats; I wish I had known a -week ago that beds would be wanting; but I suppose it was a sudden -thing," said the housekeeper. - -"Indeed, I suppose it just was, ma'am," responded the attendant. - -"Are you going to stay here long?" asked the old lady, more briskly -than she had yet spoken. - -"Raly, ma'am, I don't know," replied Flora. - -The old painted termagant shot a glance at her of no pleasant meaning; -but for the present checked the impulse in which it had its birth, and -repeated softly--"You don't know; why, you are a very innocent, simple -little girl." - -"Pray, ma'am, if it's not making too bold, which is the room, ma'am?" -asked Flora. - -"What's your young lady's name?" asked the matron, directly, and -disregarding the question of the girl. - -Flora Guy hesitated. - -"Do you hear me--what's your young lady's name?" repeated the woman, -softly, but deliberately. - -"Her name, to be sure; her name is Miss Mary," replied she. - -"Mary _what_?" asked Martha. - -"Miss Mary Ashwoode," replied Flora, half afraid as she uttered it. - -Spite of all her efforts, the woman's face exhibited disagreeable -symptoms of emotion at this announcement; she bit her lips and dropped -her eyelids lower than usual, to conceal the expression which gleamed -to her eyes, while her colour shifted even through her rouge. At -length, with a smile infinitely more unpleasant than any expression -which her face had yet worn, she observed,-- - -"Ashwoode, Ashwoode. Oh! dear, to be sure; some of Sir Richard's -family; well, I did not expect to see them darken these doors again. -Dear me! who'd have thought of the Ashwoodes looking after him again? -well, well, but they're a very forgiving family," and she uttered an -ill-omened tittering. - -"Which is the room, ma'am, if you please?" repeated Flora. - -"That's the room," cried the stalwart dame, with astounding vehemence, -and at the same time opening a door and exhibiting a large neglected -bed-chamber, with its bed-clothes and other furniture lying about in -entire disorder, and no vestige of a fire in the grate; "that's the -room, miss, and make the best of it yourself, for you've nothing else -to do." - -In this very uncomfortable predicament Flora Guy applied herself -energetically to reduce the room to something like order, and although -it was very cold and not a little damp, she succeeded, nevertheless, in -giving it an air of tolerable comfort by the time her young mistress -was prepared to retire to it. - -As soon as Mary Ashwoode had entered this chamber her maid proceeded to -narrate the occurrences which had just taken place. - -"Well, Flora," said she, smiling, "I hope the old lady will resume her -good temper by to-morrow, for one night I can easily contrive to rest -with such appliances as we have. I am more sorry, for your sake, my -poor girl, than for mine, however, and wherever I lay me down, my rest -will be, I fear me, very nearly alike." - -"She's the darkest, ill-lookingest old woman, God bless us, that ever I -set my two good-looking eyes upon, my lady," said Flora. "I'll put a -table to the door; for, to tell God's truth, I'm half afeard of her. -She has a nasty look in her, my lady--a bad look entirely." - -Flora had hardly spoken when the door opened, and the subject of their -conversation entered. - -"Good evening to you, Miss Ashwoode," said she, advancing close to the -young lady, and speaking in her usual low soft tone. "I hope you find -everything to your liking. I suppose your own maid has settled -everything according to your fancy. Of course, she knows best how to -please you. I'm very delighted to see you here in Ardgillagh, as I was -telling your innocent maid there--very glad, indeed; because, as I -said, it shows how forgiving you are, after all the master has said and -done, and the way he has always spit on every one of your family that -ever came here looking after his money--though, indeed, I'm sure you're -a great deal too good and too religious to care about money; and I'm -sure and certain it's only for the sake of Christian charity, and out -of a forgiving disposition, and to show that there isn't a bit of pride -of any sort, or kind, or description in your carcase--that you're come -here to make yourself at home in this house, that never belonged to -you, and that never will, and to beg favours of the gentleman that -hates, and despises, and insults everyone that carries your name--so -that the very dogs in the streets would not lick their blood. I like -that, Miss Ashwoode--I _do_ like it," she continued, advancing a little -nearer; "for it shows you don't care what bad people may say or think, -provided you do your Christian duty. They may say you're come here to -try and get the old gentleman's money; they may say that you're eaten -up to the very backbone with meanness, and that you'd bear to be kicked -and spit upon from one year's end to the other for the sake of a few -pounds--they'll call you a sycophant and a schemer--but you don't mind -that--and I admire you for it--they'll say, miss--for they don't -scruple at anything--they'll say you lost your character and fortune in -Dublin, and came down here in the hope of finding them again; but I -tell you what it is," she continued, giving full vent to her fury, and -raising her accents to a tone more resembling the scream of a -screech-owl than the voice of a human being, "I know what you're at, -and I'll blow your schemes, Miss Innocence. I'll make the house too hot -to hold you. Do you think I mind the old bed-ridden cripple, or anyone -else within its four walls? Hoo! I'd make no more of them or of you -than that old glass there;" and so saying, she hurled the candlestick, -with all her force, against the large mirror which depended from the -wall, and dashed it to atoms. - -"Hoo! hoo!" she screamed, "you think I am afraid to do what I -threatened; but wait--wait, I say; and now good-night to you, Miss -Ashwoode, for the first time, and pleasant dreams to you." - -So saying, the fiendish hag, actually quivering with fury, quitted the -room, drawing the door after her with a stunning crash, and leaving -Mary Ashwoode and her servant breathless with astonishment and -consternation. - - - - -CHAPTER LXVII. - -THE EXPULSION. - - -While this scene was going on in Mary Ashwoode's chamber, our friend -Oliver French, having wished Mr. Audley good-night, had summoned to his -presence his confidential servant, Mr. M'Guinness. The corpulent -invalid sat in his capacious chair by the fireside, with his muffled -legs extended upon a pile of pillows, a table loaded with the materials -of his protracted and omnigenous repast at his side. Black M'Guinness -made his appearance, evidently a little intoxicated, and not a little -excited. He proceeded in a serpentine course through the chamber, -overturning, of malice prepense, everything in which he came in -contact. - -"What the devil ails you, sir?" ejaculated Mr. French--"what the plague -do you mean? D--n you, M'Guinness, you're drunk, sir, or mad." - -"Ay, to be sure," ejaculated M'Guinness, grimly. "Why not--oh, do--I've -no objection; d----n away, sir, pray, do." - -"What do you mean by talking that way, you scoundrel?" exclaimed old -French. - -"Scoundrel!" repeated M'Guinness, overturning a small table, and all -thereupon, with a crash upon the floor, and approaching the old -gentleman, while his ugly face grew to a sickly, tallowy white with -rage, "you go for to bring a whole lot of beggarly squatters into the -house to make away with your substance, and to turn you against your -faithful, tried, trusty, and dutiful servants," he continued, shaking -his fist in his master's face. "You do, and to leave them, ten to one, -in their old days unprovided for. Damn ingratitude!--to the devil with -thankless, unnatural vermin! You call me scoundrel. Scoundrel was the -word--by this cross it was." - -While Oliver French, speechless with astonishment and rage, gazed upon -the audacious menial, Mistress Martha herself entered the chamber. - -"Yes, they are, you old dark-hearted hypocrite--they're settled -here--fixed in the house--they are," screamed she; "but they _sha'n't_ -stay long; or, if they do, I'll not leave a whole bone in their skins. -What did _they_ ever do for you, you thankless wretch?" - -"Ay, what did they ever do for you?" shouted M'Guinness. - -"Do you think we're fools--do you? and idiots--do you? not to know what -you're at, you ungrateful miscreant! Turn them out, bag and -baggage--every mother's skin of them, or I'll show them the reason why, -turn them out, I say." - -"You infernal hag, I'd see you in hell or Bedlam first," shouted -Oliver, transported with fury. "You have had your way too long, you -accursed witch--you have." - -"Never mind--oh!--you wretch," shrieked she--"never mind--wait a -bit--and never fear, you old crippled sinner, I'll be revenged on you, -you old devil's limb. Here's your watch for you," screamed she, -snatching a massive, chased gold watch from her side, and hurling it at -his head. It passed close by his ear, and struck the floor behind him, -attesting the force with which it had been thrown, as well as the -solidity of its workmanship, by a deep mark ploughed in the floor. - -Oliver French grasped his crutch and raised it threateningly. - -"You old wretch, I'll not let you strike the woman," cried M'Guinness, -snatching the poker, and preparing to dash it at the old man's head. -What might have been the issue of the strife it were hard to say, had -not Mr. Audley at that moment entered the room. - -"Heyday!" cried that gentleman, "I thought it had been robbers--what's -all this?" - -M'Guinness turned upon him, but observing that he carried a pistol in -each hand, he contented himself with muttering a curse and lowering the -poker which he held in his hand. - -"Why, what the devil--your own servants--your own man and woman!" -exclaimed Mr. Audley. "I beg your pardon, sir--pray excuse me, Mr. -French; perhaps I ought not to have intruded upon you." - -"Pray don't go, Mr. Audley--don't think of going," said Oliver, -eagerly, observing that his visitor was drawing to the door. "These -beasts will murder me if you leave me; I can't help myself--do stay." - -"Pray, madam, you are the amiable and remarkably quiet gentlewoman with -whom I was to-day honoured by an interview? God bless my body and soul, -can it possibly be?" said Mr. Audley, addressing himself to the lady. - -"You vile old swindling schemer," shrieked she, returning--"you -skulking, mean dog--you brandy-faced old reprobate, you--hoo! wait, -wait--wait awhile; I'll master you yet--just wait--never mind--hoo!" -and with something like an Indian war-whoop she dashed out of the room. - -"Get out of this apartment, you ruffian, you--M'Guinness, get out of -the room," cried old French, addressing the fellow, who still stood -grinning and growling there. - -"No, I'll not till I do my business," retorted the man, doggedly; "I'll -put you to bed first. I've a right to do my own business; I'll undress -you and put you to bed first--bellows me, but I will." - -"Mr. Audley, I beg pardon for troubling you," said Oliver, "but will -you pull the bell if you please, like the very devil." - -"Pull away till you are black in the face; _I'll_ not stir," retorted -M'Guinness. - -Mr. Audley pulled the bell with a sustained vehemence which it put Mr. -French into a perspiration even to witness. - -"Pull away, old gentleman--you may pull till you burst--to the devil -with you all. I'll not stir a peg till I choose it myself; I'll do my -business what I was hired for; there's no treason in that. D---- me, if -I stir a peg for you," repeated M'Guinness, doggedly. - -Meanwhile, two half-dressed, scared-looking servants, alarmed by Mr. -Audley's persevering appeals, showed themselves at the door. - -"Thomas--Martin--come in here, you pair of boobies," exclaimed French, -authoritatively; "Martin, do you keep an eye on that scoundrel, and -Thomas, run you down and waken the post-boy and tell him to put his -horses to, and do you assist him, sir, away!" - -With unqualified amazement in their faces, the men proceeded to obey -their orders. - -"So, so," said Oliver, still out of breath with anger, "matters are -come to a pleasant pass, I'm to be brained with my own poker--by my own -servant--in my own house--very pleasant, because forsooth, I dare to do -what I please with my own--highly agreeable, truly! Mr. Audley, may I -trouble you to give me a glass of noyeau--let me recommend that to you, -Mr. Audley, it has the true flavour--nay, nay--I'll hear of no -excuse--I'm absolute in my own room at least--come, my dear sir--I -implore--I insist--nay, I command; come--come--a bumper; very good -health, sir; a pleasant pair of furies!--just give me the legs of that -woodcock while we are waiting." - -Accordingly Mr. Oliver French filled up the brief interval after his -usual fashion, by adding slightly to the contents of his stomach, and -in a little time the servant whom he had dispatched downward, returned -with the post-boy in person. - -"Are your horses under the coach, my good lad?" inquired old French. - -"No, but they're to it, and that's better," responded the charioteer. - -"You'll not have far to go--only to the little village at the end of -the avenue," said Mr. French. "Mr. Audley, may I trouble you to fill a -large glass of Creme de Portugal; thank you; now, my good lad, take -that," continued he, delighted at an opportunity of indulging his -passion for ministering to the stomach of a fellow mortal, "take -it--take it--every drop--good--now Martin, do you and Thomas find that -termagant--fury--Martha Montgomery, and conduct her to the coach--carry -her down if necessary--put her into it, and one of you remain with her, -to prevent her getting out again, and let the other return, and with my -friend the post-boy, do a like good office by my honest comrade Mr. -M'Guinness--mind you go along with them to the village, and let them be -set down at Moroney's public-house; everything belonging to them shall -be sent down to-morrow morning, and if you ever catch either of them -about the place--duck them--whip them--set the dogs on them--that's -all." - -Shrieking as though body and soul were parting, Mrs. Martha was -half-carried, half-dragged from the scene of her long-abused authority; -screaming her threats, curses, and abuse in volleys, she was deposited -safely in the vehicle, and guarded by the footman--who in secret -rejoiced in common with all the rest of the household at the disgrace -of the two insolent favourites--and was forced to sit therein until her -companion in misfortune being placed at her side, they were both, under -a like escort, safely deposited at the door of the little public-house, -scarcely crediting the evidence of their senses for the reality of -their situation. - - -Henceforward Ardgillagh was a tranquil place, and day after day old -Oliver French grew to love the gentle creature, whom a chance wind had -thus carried to his door, more and more fondly. There was an -artlessness and a warmth of affection, and a kindliness about her, -which all, from the master down to the humblest servant, felt and -loved; a grace, and dignity, and a simple beauty in every look and -action, which none could see and not admire. The strange old man, whose -humour had never brooked contradiction, felt for her, he knew not why, -a tenderness and respect such as he never before believed a mortal -creature could inspire; her gentle wish was law to him; to see her -sweet face was his greatest joy--to please her his first ambition; she -grew to be, as it were, his idol. - -It was her chief delight to ramble unattended through the fine old -place. Often, with her faithful follower, Flora Guy, she would visit -the humble dwellings of the poor, wherever grief or sickness was, and -with gentle words of comfort and bounteous pity, cheer and relieve. But -still, from week to week it became too mournfully plain that the sweet, -sad face was growing paler and ever paler, and the graceful form more -delicately slight. In the silent watches of the night often would Flora -Guy hear her loved young mistress weep on for hours, as though her -heart were breaking; yet from her lips there never fell at any time one -word of murmuring, nor any save those of gentle kindness; and often -would she sit by the casement and reverently read the pages of one old -volume, and think and read again, while ever and anon the silent tears, -gathering on the long, dark lashes, would fall one by one upon the -leaf, and then would she rise with such a smile of heavenly comfort -breaking through her tears, that peace, and hope, and glory seemed -beaming in her pale angelic face. - -Thus from day to day, in the old mansion of Ardgillagh, did she, whose -beauty none, even the most stoical, had ever seen unmoved--whose -artless graces and perfections all who had ever beheld her had thought -unmatched, fade slowly and uncomplainingly, but with beauty if possible -enhanced, before the eyes of those who loved her; yet they hoped on, -and strongly hoped--why should they not? She was young--yes, very -young, and why should the young die in the glad season of their early -bloom? - -Mr. Audley became a wondrous favourite with his eccentric entertainer, -who would not hear of his fixing a time for his departure, but partly -by entreaties, partly by bullying, managed to induce him to prolong his -stay from week to week. These concessions were not, however, made -without corresponding conditions imposed by the consenting party, among -the foremost of which was the express stipulation that he should not be -expected, nor by cajolery nor menaces induced or compelled, to eat or -drink at all more than he himself felt prompted by the cravings of his -natural appetite to do. The old gentlemen had much in common upon which -to exercise their sympathies; they were both staunch Tories, both -admirable judges of claret, and no less both extraordinary proficients -in the delectable pastimes of backgammon and draughts, whereat, when -other resources failed, they played with uncommon industry and -perseverance, and sometimes indulged in slight ebullitions of -acrimonious feeling, scarcely exhibited, however, before they were -atoned for by fervent apologies and vehement vows of good behaviour for -the future. - -Leaving this little party to the quiet seclusion of Ardgillagh, it -becomes now our duty to return for a time to very different scenes and -other personages. - - - - -CHAPTER LXVIII. - -THE FRAY. - - -It now becomes our duty to return for a short time to Sir Henry -Ashwoode and Nicholas Blarden, whom we left in hot pursuit of the -trembling fugitives. The night was consumed in vain but restless -search, and yet no satisfactory clue to the direction of their flight -had been discovered; no evidence, not even a hint, by which to guide -their pursuit. Jaded by his fruitless exertions, frantic with rage and -disappointment, Nicholas Blarden at peep of light rode up to the hall -door of Morley Court. - -"No news since?" cried he, fixing his bloodshot eyes upon the man who -took his horse's bridle, "no news since?" - -"No, sir," cried the fellow, shaking his head, "not a word." - -"Is Sir Henry within?" inquired Blarden, throwing himself from the -saddle. - -"No, sir," replied the man. - -"Not returned yet, eh?" asked Nicholas. - -"Yes, sir, he did return, and he left again about ten minutes ago," -responded the groom. - -"And left no message for me, eh?" rejoined Blarden. - -"There's a note, sir, on a scrap of paper, on the table in the hall, I -forgot to mention," replied the man--"he wrote it in a hurry, with a -pencil, sir." - -Blarden strode into the hall, and easily discovered the document--a -hurried scrawl, scarcely legible; it ran as follows:-- - - "Nothing yet--no trace--I half suspect they're lurking in the - neighbourhood of the house. I must return to town--there are two - places which I forgot to try. Meet me, if you can--say in the old - Saint Columbkil; it's a deserted place, in the morning about ten or - eleven o'clock. - - "HENRY ASHWOODE." - -Blarden glanced quickly through this effusion. - -"A precious piece of paper, that!" muttered he, tearing it across, -"worthy of its author--a cursed greenhorn; consume him for a _mouth_, -but no matter--no matter yet. Here, you rake-helly squad, some of you," -shouted he, addressing himself at random to the servants, one of whom -he heard approaching, "here, I say, get me some food and drink, and -don't be long about it either, I can scarce stand." So saying, and -satisfied that his directions would be promptly attended to, he -shambled into one of the sitting-rooms, and flung himself at his full -length upon a sofa; his disordered and bespattered dress and -mud-stained boots contrasted agreeably with the rich crimson damask and -gilded backs and arms of the couch on which he lay. As he applied -himself voraciously to the solid fare and the wines with which he was -speedily supplied, a thousand incoherent schemes, and none of them of -the most amiable kind, busily engaged his thoughts. After many -wandering speculations, he returned again to a subject which had more -than once already presented itself. "And then for the brother, the -fellow that laid his blows on me before a whole play-house full of -people, the vile spawn of insolent beggary, that struck me till his arm -was fairly tired with striking--I'm no fool to forget such things--the -rascally forging ruffian--the mean, swaggering, lying bully--no -matter--he must be served out in style, and so he shall. I'll not hang -him though, I may turn him to account yet, some way or other--no, I'll -not hang him, keep the halter in my hand--the best trump for the last -card--hold the gallows over him, and make him lead a pleasant sort of -life of it, one way or other. I'll not leave a spark of pride in his -body I'll not thrash out of him. I'll make him meeker and sleeker and -humbler than a spaniel; he shall, before the face of all the world, -just bear what I give him, and do what I bid him, like a trained -dog--sink me, but he shall." - -Somewhat comforted by these ruminations, Nicholas Blarden arose from a -substantial meal, and a reverie, which had occupied some hours; and -without caring to remove from his person the traces of his toilsome -exertions of the night past, nor otherwise to render himself one whit a -less slovenly and neglected-looking figure than when he had that -morning dismounted at the hall door, he called for a fresh horse, threw -himself into the saddle, and spurred away for Dublin city. - -He reached the doorway of the old Saint Columbkil, and, under the -shadow of its ancient sign-board, dismounted. He entered the tavern, -but Ashwoode was not there; and, in answer to his inquiries, Mr. -Blarden was informed that Sir Henry Ashwoode had gone over to the "Cock -and Anchor," to have his horse cared for, and that he was momentarily -expected back. - -Blarden consulted his huge gold watch. "It's eleven o'clock now, every -minute of it, and he's not come--hoity toity rather, I should say, all -things considered. I thought he was better up to his game by this -time--but no matter--I'll give him a lesson just now." - -As if for the express purpose of further irritating Mr. Blarden's -already by no means angelic temper, several parties, composed of -second-rate sporting characters, all laughing, swearing, joking, -betting, whistling, and by every device, contriving together to produce -as much clatter and uproar as it was possible to do, successively -entered the place. - -"Well, Nicky, boy, how does the world wag with you?" inquired a dapper -little fellow, approaching Blarden with a kind of brisk, hopping gait, -and coaxingly digging that gentleman's ribs with the butt of his -silver-mounted whip. - -"What the devil brings all these chaps here at this hour?" inquired -Blarden. - -"Soft is your horn, old boy," rejoined his acquaintance, in the same -arch strain of pleasantry; "two regular good mains to be fought -to-day--tough ones, I promise you--Fermanagh Dick against Long -White--fifty birds each--splendid fowls, I'm told--great betting--it -will come off in little more than an hour." - -"I don't care if it never comes off," rejoined Blarden; "I'm waiting -for a chap that ought to have been here half an hour ago. Rot him, I'm -sick waiting." - -"Well, come, I'll tell you how we'll pass the time. I'll toss you for -guineas, as many tosses as you like," rejoined the small gentleman, -accommodatingly. "What do you say--is it a go?" - -"Sit down, then," replied Blarden; "sit down, can't you? and begin." - -Accordingly the two friends proceeded to recreate themselves thus -pleasantly. Mr. Blarden's luck was decidedly bad, and he had been -already "physicked," as his companion playfully remarked, to the amount -of some five-and-twenty guineas, and his temper had become in a -corresponding degree affected, when he observed Sir Henry Ashwoode, -jaded, haggard, and with dress disordered, approaching the place where -he sat. - -"Blarden, we had better leave this place," said Ashwoode, glancing -round at the crowded benches; "there's too much noise here. What say -you?" - -"What do I say?" rejoined Blarden, in his very loudest and most -insolent tone--"I say you have made an appointment and broke it, so -stand there till it's my convenience to talk to you--that's all." - -Ashwoode felt his blood tingling in his veins with fury as he observed -the sneering significant faces of those who, attracted by the loud -tones of Nicholas Blarden, watched the effect of his insolence upon its -object. He heard conversations subside into whispers and titters among -the low scoundrels who enjoyed his humiliation; yet he dared not answer -Blarden as he would have given worlds at that moment to have done, and -with the extremest difficulty restrained himself from rushing among the -vile rabble who exulted in his degradation, and compelling _them_ at -least to respect and fear him. While he stood thus with compressed lips -and a face pale as ashes with rage, irresolute what course to take, one -of the coins for which Blarden played rolled along the table, and -thence along the floor for some distance. - -"Go, fetch that guinea--jump, will you?" cried Blarden, in the same -boisterous and intentionally insolent tone. "What are you standing -there for, like a stick? Pick it up, sir." - -Ashwoode did not move, and an universal titter ran round the -spectators, whose attention was now effectually enlisted. - -"Do what I order you--do it this moment. D---- your audacity, you had -better do it," said Blarden, dashing his clenched fist on the table so -as to make the coin thereon jump and jingle. - -Still Ashwoode remained resolutely fixed, trembling in every joint with -very passion; prudence told him that he ought to leave the place -instantly, but pride and obstinacy, or his evil angel, held him there. - -The sneering whispers of the crowd, who now pressed more nearly round -them in the hope of some amusement, became more and more loud and -distinct, and the words, "white feather," "white liver," "muff," "cur," -and other terms of a like import reached Ashwoode's ear. Furious at the -contumacy of his wretched slave, and determined to overbear and humble -him, Blarden exclaimed in a tone of ferocious menace,-- - -"Do as I bid you, you cursed, insolent upstart--pick up that coin, and -give it to me--or by the laws, you'll shake for it." - -Still Ashwoode moved not. - -"Do as I bid you, you robbing swindler," shouted he, with an oath too -appalling for our pages, and again rising, and stamping on the floor, -"or I'll give you to the crows." - -The titter which followed this menace was unexpectedly interrupted. The -young man's aspect changed; the blood rushed in livid streams to his -face; his dark eyes blazed with deadly fire; and, like the bursting of -a storm, all the gathering rage and vengeance of weeks in one -tremendous moment found vent. With a spring like that of a tiger, he -rushed upon his persecutor, and before the astonished spectators could -interfere, he had planted his clenched fists dozens of times, with -furious strength, in Blarden's face. Utterly destitute of personal -courage, the wretch, though incomparably a more powerful man than his -light-limbed antagonist, shrank back, stunned and affrighted, under the -shower of blows, and stumbled and fell over a wooden stool. With -murderous resolution, Ashwoode instantly drew his sword, and another -moment would have witnessed the last of Blarden's life, had not several -persons thrown themselves between that person and his frantic -assailant. - -"Hold back," cried one. "The man's down--don't murder him." - -"Down with him--he's mad!" cried another; "brain him with the stool." - -"Hold his arm, some of you, or he'll murder the man!" shouted a third, -"hold him, will you?" - -Overpowered by numbers, with his face lacerated and his clothes torn, -and his naked sword still in his hand, Ashwoode struggled and foamed, -and actually howled, to reach his abhorred enemy--glaring like a -baffled beast upon his prey. - -"Send for constables, quick--_quick_, I say," shouted Blarden, with a -frantic imprecation, his face all bleeding under his recent discipline. - -"Let me go--let me go, I tell you, or by the father that made me, I'll -send my sword through half-a-dozen of you," almost shrieked Ashwoode. - -"Hold him--hold him fast--consume you, hold him back!" shouted Blarden; -"he's a forger!--run for constables!" - -Several did run in various directions for peace officers. - -"Wring the sword from his hand, why don't you?" cried one; "cut it out -of his hand with a knife!" - -"Knock him down!--down with him! Hold on!" - -Amid such exclamations, Ashwoode at length succeeded, by several -desperate efforts, in extricating himself from those who held him; and -without hat, and with clothes rent to fragments in the scuffle, and his -face and hands all torn and bleeding, still carrying his naked sword in -his hand, he rushed from the room, and, followed at a respectable -distance by several of those who had witnessed the scuffle, and by his -distracted appearance attracting the wondering gaze of those who -traversed the streets, he ran recklessly onward to the "Cock and -Anchor." - - - - -CHAPTER LXIX. - -THE BOLTED WINDOW. - - -Followed at some distance by a wondering crowd, he entered the -inn-yard, where, for the first time, he checked his flight, and -returned his sword to the scabbard. - -"Here, ostler, groom--quickly, here!" cried Ashwoode. "In the devil's -name, where are you?" - -The ostler presented himself, gazing in unfeigned astonishment at the -distracted, pale, and bleeding figure before him. - -"Where have you put my horse?" said Ashwoode. - -"The boy's whisping him down in the back stable, your honour," replied -he. - -"Have him saddled and bridled in three seconds," said Ashwoode, -striding before the man towards the place indicated. "I'll make it -worth your while. My life--my _life_ depends on it!" - -"Never fear," said the fellow, quickening his pace, "may I never buckle -a strap if I don't." - -With these words, they entered the stable together, but the horse was -not there. - -"Confound them, they brought him to the dark stable, I suppose," said -the groom, impatiently. "Come along, sir." - -"'Sdeath! it will be too late! Quick!--quick, man!--in the fiend's -name, be quick!" said Ashwoode, glaring fearfully towards the entrance -to the inn-yard. - -Their visit to the second stable was not more satisfactory. - -"Where the devil's Sir Henry Ashwoode's horse?" inquired the groom, -addressing a fellow who was seated on an oat-bin, drumming listlessly -with his heels upon its sides, and smoking a pipe the while--"where's -the horse?" repeated he. - -The man first satisfied his curiosity by a leisurely view of Ashwoode's -disordered dress and person, and then removed his pipe deliberately -from his mouth, and spat upon the ground. - -"Where's Sir Henry's horse?" he repeated. "Why, Jim took him out a -quarter of an hour ago, walking down towards the Poddle there. I'm -thinking he'll be back soon now." - -"Saddle a horse--any horse--only let him be sure and fleet," cried -Ashwoode, "and I'll pay you his price thrice over!" - -"Well, it's a bargain," replied the groom, promptly; "I don't like to -see a gentleman caught in a hobble, if I can help him out of it. Take -my advice, though, and duck your head under the water in the trough -there; your face is full of blood and dust, and couldn't but be noticed -wherever you went." - -While the groom was with marvellous celerity preparing the horse which -he selected for the young man's service, Ashwoode, seeing the -reasonableness of his advice, ran to the large trough full of water -which stood before the pump in the inn-yard; but as he reached it, he -perceived the entrance of some four or five persons into the little -quadrangle whom, at a glance, he discovered to be constables. - -"That's him--he's our bird! After him!--there he goes!" cried several -voices. - -Ashwoode sprang up the stairs of the gallery which, as in most old -inns, overhung the yard. He ran along it, and rushed into the first -passage which opened from it. This he traversed with his utmost speed, -and reached a chamber door. It was fastened; but hurling himself -against it with his whole weight, he burst it open, the hoarse voices -of his pursuers, and their heavy tread, ringing in his ears. He ran -directly to the casement; it looked out upon a narrow by-lane. He -strove to open it, that he might leap down upon the pavement, but it -resisted his efforts; and, driven to bay, and hearing the steps at the -very door of the chamber, he turned about and drew his sword. - - [Illustration: "Driven to bay ... he drew his sword." - _To face page 338._] - -"Come, no sparring," cried the foremost, a huge fellow in a great coat, -and with a bludgeon in his hand; "give in quietly; you're regularly -caged." - -As the fellow advanced, Ashwoode met him with a thrust of his sword. -The constable partly threw it up with his hand, but it entered the -fleshy part of his arm, and came out near his shoulder blade. - -"Murder! murder!--help! help!" shouted the man, staggering back, while -two or three more of his companions thrust themselves in at the door. - -Ashwoode had hardly disengaged his sword, when a tremendous blow upon -the knuckles with a bludgeon dashed it from his grasp, and almost at -the same instant, he received a second blow upon the head, which felled -him to the ground, insensible, and weltering in blood, the execrations -and uproar of his assailants still ringing in his ears. - -"Lift him on the bed. Pull off his cravat. By the hoky, he's done for. -Devil a kick in him. Open his vest. Are you hurted, Crotty? Get some -water and spirits, some of yees, an' a towel. Begorra, we just nicked -him. He's an active chap. See, he's opening his mouth and his eyes. -Hould him, Teague, for he's the devil's bird. Never mind it, Crotty. -Devil a fear of you. Tear open the shirt. Bedad, it was close shaving. -Give him a drop iv the brandy. Never a fear of you, old bulldog." - -These and such broken sentences from fifty voices filled the little -chamber where Ashwoode lay in dull and ghastly insensibility after his -recent deadly struggle, while some stuped the wounds of the combatants -with spirits and water, and others applied the same medicaments to -their own interiors, and all talked loud and fast together, as men are -apt to do after scenes of excitement. - - -We need not follow Ashwoode through the dreadful preliminaries which -terminated in his trial. In vain did he implore an interview with -Nicholas Blarden, his relentless prosecutor. It were needless to enter -into the evidence for the prosecution, and that for the defence, -together with the points made arguments, and advanced by the opposing -counsel; it is enough to know that the case was conducted with much -ability on both sides, and that the jury, having deliberated for more -than an hour, at length found the verdict which we shall just now -state. A baronet in the dock was too novel an exhibition to fail in -drawing a full attendance, and the consequence was, that never was -known such a crowd of human beings in a compass so small as that which -packed the court-house upon this memorable occasion. - -Throughout the whole proceedings, Sir Henry Ashwoode, though deadly -pale, conducted himself with singular coolness and self-possession, -frequently suggesting questions to his counsel, and watching the -proceedings apparently with a mind as disengaged from every agitating -consciousness of personal danger as that of any of the indifferent but -curious bystanders who looked on. He was handsomely dressed, and in his -degraded and awful situation preserved, nevertheless, in his outward -mien and attire, the dignity of his rank and former pretensions. As is -invariably the case in Ireland, popular sympathy moved strongly in -favour of the prisoner, a feeling of interest which the grace, beauty, -and evident youth of the accused, as well as his high rank--for the -Irish have ever been an aristocratic race--served much to enhance; and -when the case closed, and the jury retired after an adverse charge from -the learned judge, to consider their verdict, perhaps Ashwoode himself -would have seemed, to the careless observer, the least interested in -the result of all who were assembled in that densely crowded place, to -hear the final adjudication of the law. Those, however, who watched him -more narrowly could observe, in this dreadful interval, that he raised -his handkerchief often to his face, keeping it almost constantly at his -mouth to conceal the nervous twitching of the muscles which he could -not control. The eyes of the eager multitude wandered from the prisoner -to the jury-box, and thence to the impassive parchment countenance of -the old ermined effigy who presided at the harrowing scene, and not one -ventured to speak above his breath. At length, a sound was heard at the -door of the jury-box--the jury was returning. A buzz ran through the -court, and then the prolonged "hish," enjoining silence, while one by -one the jurors entered and resumed their places in the box. The verdict -was--Guilty. - -In reply to the usual interrogatory from the officer of the court, Sir -Henry Ashwoode spoke, and though many there were moved, even to sobs -and tears, yet his manner had recovered its grace and collectedness, -and his voice was unbroken and musical as when it was wont to charm all -hearers in the gay saloons of fashion, and splendour, and heedless -folly, in other times--when he, blasted and ruined as he stood there, -was the admired and courted favourite of the great and gay. - -"My lord," said he, "I have nothing to urge which, in the strict -requirements of the law, avails to abate the solemn sentence which you -are about to pronounce--for my life I care not--something is, however, -due to my character and the name I bear--a name, my lord, never, never -except on this day, never clouded by the shadow of dishonour--a name -which will yet, after I am dead and gone, be surely and entirely -vindicated; vindicated, my lord, in the entire dispersion of the foul -imputations and fatal contrivances under which my fame is darkened and -my life is taken. Far am I from impeaching the verdict that I have just -heard. I will not arraign the jurymen, nor lay to _their_ charge that I -am this day wrongfully condemned, but to the charge of those who, on -that witness table, have sworn my life away--perjurers procured for -money, whose exposure I leave to time, and whose punishment to God. -Knowing that although my body shall ignominiously perish, and though my -fame be tarnished for an hour, yet shall truth and years, with -irresistible power, bring my innocence to light--rescue my character -and restore the name I bear. He who stands in the shadow of death, as I -do, has little to fear in human censure, and little to gather from the -applause of men. My life is forfeited, and I must soon go into the -presence of my Creator, to receive my everlasting doom; and in presence -of that almighty and terrible God before whom I must soon stand, and as -I look for mercy when He shall judge me, I declare, that of this crime, -of which I am pronounced guilty, I am altogether innocent. I am a -victim of a conspiracy, the motives of which my defence hath truly -showed you. I never committed the crime for which I am to suffer. I -repeat that I am innocent, and in witness of the truth of what I say, I -appeal to my Maker and my Judge, the Eternal and Almighty God." - -Having thus spoken, Ashwoode received his sentence, and was forthwith -removed to the condemned cell. - -Ashwoode had many and influential friends, and it required but a small -exercise of their good offices to procure a reprieve. He would not -suffer himself to despond--no, nor for one moment to doubt his final -escape from the fangs of justice. He was first reprieved for a -fortnight, and before that term expired again for six weeks. In the -course of the latter term, however, an event occurred which fearfully -altered his chances of escape, and filled his mind with the justest and -most dreadful apprehensions. This was the recall of Wharton from the -viceroyalty of Ireland. - -The new lord-lieutenant could not see, in the case of the young Whig -baronet, the same extenuating circumstances which had wrought so -effectually upon his predecessor, Wharton. The judge who had tried the -case refused to recommend the prisoner to the mercy of the Crown; and -the viceroy accordingly, in his turn, refused to entertain any -application for the commutation or further suspension of his sentence; -and now, for the first time, Sir Henry Ashwoode felt the tremendous -reality of his situation. The term for which he was reprieved had -nearly expired, and he felt that the hours which separated him from the -deadly offices of the hangman were numbered. Still, in this dreadful -consciousness, there mingled some faint and flickering ray of hope--by -its uncertain mockery rendering the terrors of his situation but the -more intolerable, and by the sleepless agonies of suspense, unnerving -the resolution which he might have otherwise summoned to his aid. - - - - -CHAPTER LXX. - -THE BARONET'S ROOM. - - -Desperately wounded, O'Connor lay between life and death for many weeks -in the dim and secluded apartment whither O'Hanlon had borne him after -his combat with Sir Henry Ashwoode. There, fearing lest his own -encounter with Wharton, and its startling result, should mark them for -pursuit and search, he placed O'Connor under the charge of trusty -creatures of his own--for some time not daring to visit him except -under cover of the night. This alarm, however, soon subsided; and -consequently less precaution was adopted. O'Connor's wounds were, as we -have said, most dangerous, and for fully two months he lay upon the -fiery couch of fever, alternately raving in delirium, and locked in the -dull stupor of entire apathy and exhaustion. Through this season of -pain and peril he was sustained, however, by the energies of a young -and vigorous constitution. The fever, at length, abated, and the -unclouded light of reason returned; still, however, in body he was -weak, so weak that, sorely against his will, he was perforce obliged to -continue the occupant of his narrow bed, in the dingy and secluded -lodgings in which he lay. Impatient to learn something of her who -entirely filled his thoughts, and of the truth of whose love for him he -now felt the revival of more than hope, he chafed and fretted in the -narrow limits of his dark and gloomy chamber. Spite of all the -remonstrances of the old crone who attended him, backed by the more -awful fulminations of his apothecary, O'Connor would not submit any -longer to the confinement of his bed; and, but for the firm and -effectual resistance of O'Hanlon, would have succeeded, weak as he was, -in making his escape from the house, and resuming his ordinary -occupations and pursuits, as though his health had not suffered, nor -his strength become impaired, so as to leave him scarcely the power of -walking a hundred steps, without the extremest exhaustion and -lassitude. To O'Hanlon's expostulations he was forced to yield, and -even pledged his word to him not to attempt a removal from his hated -lodgings, without his consent and approbation. In reply to a message to -his friend Audley, he learned, much to his mortification, that that -gentleman had left town, and as thus full of disquiet and anxiety, one -day O'Connor was seated, pale and languid, in his usual place by the -window, the door of his apartment opened, and O'Hanlon entered. He took -the hand of the invalid and said,-- - -"I commend your patience, young man, you have been my _parole_ prisoner -for many days. When is this durance to end?" - -"I'faith, I believe with my life," rejoined O'Connor, "I never knew -before what weariness and vexation in perfection are--this dusky room -is hateful to me, it grows narrower and narrower every day--and those -old houses opposite--every pane of glass in their windows, and every -brick in their walls I have learned by rote--I am tired to death. But, -seriously, I have other and very different reasons for wishing to be at -liberty again--reasons so urgent as to leave me no rest by night or -day. I chafe and fret here like a caged bird. I have been too long shut -up--my strength will never come again unless I am allowed to breathe -the fresh air--you are all literally killing me with kindness." - -"And yet," rejoined O'Hanlon, "I have never been thought an -over-careful leech, and truth to say, had I suffered you to have your -own way, you would not now have been a living man. I know, as well as -any of them, how to tend a wound, and this I will say, that in all my -practice it never yet has been my lot to meet with so ill-conditioned -and cross-grained a patient as yourself. Why, nothing short of -downright force has kept you in your room--your life is saved in spite -of yourself." - -"If you keep me here much longer," replied O'Connor, "it will prove but -indifferent economy as regards my bodily health, for I shall -undoubtedly cut my throat before another week." - -"There shall be no need, my friend, to find such an escape," replied -O'Hanlon, "for I now absolve you of your promise, hitherto so well -observed; nay, more, _I_ advise you to leave the house to-day. I think -your strength sufficient, and the occasion, moreover, demands that you -should visit an acquaintance immediately." - -"Who is it?" inquired O'Connor, starting to his feet with alacrity, -"thank God I am at length again my own master." - -"When I this day entered the yard of the 'Cock and Anchor'," answered -O'Hanlon, "the inn where you and I first encountered, I found a fellow -inquiring after you most earnestly; he had a letter with which he was -charged. It is from Sir Henry Ashwoode, who lies now in prison, and -under sentence of death. You start, and no wonder--his old associates -have convicted him of forgery." - -"Gracious Heaven, is it possible?" exclaimed O'Connor. - -"Nay, _certain_," continued O'Hanlon, "nor has he any longer a chance -of escape. He has been twice reprieved--but his friend Wharton is -recalled--his reprieve expires in three days' time, and then he will be -inevitably executed." - -"Good God, is this--can it be reality?" exclaimed O'Connor, trembling -with the violence of his agitation, "give me the letter." He broke the -seal, and read as follows:-- - - "EDMOND O'CONNOR,--I know I have wronged you sorely. I have - destroyed your peace and endangered your life. You are more than - avenged. I write this in the condemned cell of the gaol. If you can - bring yourself to confer with me for a few minutes, come here. I - stand on no ceremony, and time presses. Do not fail. If you be - living I shall expect you. - - "HENRY ASHWOODE." - -O'Connor's preparations were speedily made, and leaning upon the arm of -his elder friend, he, with slow and feeble steps, and a head giddy with -his long confinement, and the agitating anticipation of the scene in -which he was just about to be engaged, traversed the streets which -separated his lodging from the old city gaol--a sombre, stern, and -melancholy-looking building, surrounded by crowded and dilapidated -houses, with decayed plaster and patched windows, and a certain -desolate and sickly aspect, as though scared and blasted by the -contagious proximity of that dark receptacle of crime and desperation -which loomed above them. At the gate O'Hanlon parted from him, -appointing to meet him again in the "Cock and Anchor," whither he -repaired. After some questions, O'Connor was admitted. The clanging of -bolts, and bars, and door-chains, smote heavily on his heart--he heard -no other sounds but these and the echoing tread of their own feet, as -they traversed the long, dark, stone-paved passages which led to the -dungeon in which he whom he had last seen in the pride of fashion, and -youth, and strength, was now a condemned felon, and within a few hours -of a public and ignominious death. The turnkey paused at one of the -narrow doors opening from the dusky corridor, and unclosing it, said,-- - -"A gentleman, sir, to see you." - -"Request him to come in," replied a voice, which, though feebler than -it used to be, O'Connor had no difficulty in recognizing. In compliance -with this invitation, he with a throbbing heart entered the -prison-room. It was dimly lighted by a single small window set high in -the wall, and darkened by iron bars. A small deal table, with a few -books carelessly laid upon it, occupied the centre of the cell, and two -heavy stools were placed beside it, on one of which was seated a -figure, with his back to the light, to conceal, with a desperate -tenacity of pride, the ravages which the terrific mental fever of weeks -had wrought in his once bold and handsome face. By the wall was -stretched a wretched pallet; and upon the plaster were written and -scratched, according to the various moods of the miserable and guilty -tenants of the place, a hundred records, some of slang philosophy, some -of desperate drunken defiance, and some again of terror, but all -bearing reference to the dreadful scene to which this was but the -ante-chamber and the passage. Many hieroglyphical emblems of -unmistakable significance had also been traced upon the walls by the -successive occupants of the place, such as coffins, gallows-trees, -skulls and cross-bones; the most striking among which symbols was a -large figure of death upon a horse, sketched with much spirit, by some -moralizing convict, with a piece of burned stick, and to which some -waggish successor had appropriately added, in red chalk, a gigantic -pair of spurs. As soon as O'Connor entered, the turnkey closed the -door, and he and Sir Henry Ashwoode were left alone. A silence of some -minutes, which neither party dared to break, ensued. - - - - -CHAPTER LXXI. - -THE FAREWELL. - - -O'Connor was the first to speak. In a low voice, which trembled with -agitation, he said,-- - -"Sir Henry Ashwoode, I have come here in answer to a note which reached -me but a few minutes since. You desired a conference with me; is there -any commission with which you would wish to charge me?--if so, let me -know it, and it shall be done." - -"None, none, Mr. O'Connor, thank you," rejoined Ashwoode, recovering -his characteristic self-possession, and continuing proudly, "if you add -to your visit a patient audience of a few minutes, you will have -conferred upon me the only favour I desire. Pray, sit down; it is -rather a hard and a homely seat," he added, with a haggard, joyless -smile--"but the only one this place supplies." - -Another silence followed, during which Sir Henry Ashwoode restlessly -shifted his attitude every moment, in evident and uncontrollable -nervous excitement. At length he arose, and walked twice or thrice up -and down the narrow chamber, exhibiting without any longer care for -concealment his pale, wasted face in the full light which streamed in -through the grated window, his sunken eyes and unshorn chin, and worn -and attenuated figure. - -"You hear that sound," said he, abruptly stopping short, and looking -with the same strange smile upon O'Connor; "the clank upon the flags as -I walk up and down--the jingle of the fetters--isn't it strange--isn't -it odd--like a dream--eh?" - -Another silence followed, which Ashwoode again abruptly interrupted. - -"You know all this story?--of course you do--everybody does--how the -wretches have trapped me--isn't it terrible--isn't it dreadful? Oh! you -cannot know what it is to mope about this place alone, when it is -growing dark, as I do every evening, and in the night time. If I had -been another man, I'd have been raving mad by this time. I said -_alone_--did I?" he continued, with increasing excitement; "oh! that it -were!--oh! that it were! He comes there--_there_," he screamed, pointing -to the foot of the bed, "with all those infernal cloths and fringes -about his face, morning and evening. Ah, God! such a thing--half idiot, -half fiend; and still the same, though I curse him till I'm hoarse, he -won't leave it. Can't they wait--can't they wait? for-ever is a long -day. As I'm a living man, he's with me every night--there--there is the -body, gaping and nodding--_there_--_there_--_there_!" - -As he shouted this with frantic and despairing horror, shaking his -clenched hands toward the place of his dreaded nightly visitant, -O'Connor felt a thrill of horror such as he had never known before, and -hardly recovered from this painful feeling, when Sir Henry Ashwoode -turned to the little table on which, among many things, a vessel of -water was placed, and filling some out into a cracked cup, he added to -it drops from a phial, and hastily swallowed the mixture. - -"Laudanum is all the philosophy or religion I can boast; it's well to -have even so much," said he, returning the bottle to his pocket. "It's -a dead secret, though, that I have got any; this is a present from the -doctor they allow me to see, and I'm on honour not--to poison -myself--isn't it comical?--for fear he should get into a scrape; but -I've another game to play--no fear of that--no, no." - -Another silence followed, and Sir Henry Ashwoode said quickly,-- - -"What do the people say about it? Do they think I forged that accursed -bond? Do they think me guilty?" - -O'Connor declared his entire ignorance of public rumour, alleging his -own illness, and consequent close confinement, as the cause of it. - -"They sha'n't believe me guilty, no, they sha'n't. Look ye, sir, I have -one good feeling left," he resumed, vehemently; "I will not let my name -suffer. If the most resolute firmness to the very last, and the most -solemn renunciation of the charges preferred against me, reiterated at -the foot of the gallows, with the halter about my neck--if these can -beget a belief of my innocence, my name shall be clear--my name shall -not suffer; this last outrage I will avert; but oh, my God! is there no -chance yet--must I--_must_ I perish? Will no one save me--will no one -help me? Oh, God! oh, God! is there no pity--no succour; must it come?" - -Thus crying, he threw himself forward upon the table, while every joint -and muscle quivered and heaved with fierce hysterical sobs which, more -like a succession of short convulsive shrieks than actual weeping, -betrayed his agony, while O'Connor looked on with a mixture of horror -and pity, which all that was past could not suppress. - -At length the paroxysm subsided. The wretched man filled out some more -water, and mingling some drops of laudanum in it, he drank it off, and -became comparatively composed. - -"Not a word of this to any living being, I charge you," said he, -clutching O'Connor's arm in his attenuated hand, and fixing his sunken -fiery eyes upon his; "I would not have my folly known; I'm not always -so weak as you have seen me. It _must_ be, that's all--no help for it. -It's rather a novel thing, though, to hang a baronet--ha! ha! You look -scared--you think my wits are unsettled; but you're wrong. I don't -sleep; I hav'n't for some time; and want of rest, you know, makes a -man's manner odd; makes him excitable--nervous. I'm more myself now." - -After a short pause, Sir Henry Ashwoode resumed,-- - -"When we had that affray together, in which would to God you had run me -through the heart, you put a question to me about my sister--poor Mary; -I will answer that now, and more than answer it. That girl loves you -with her whole heart; loves you alone; never loved another. It matters -not to tell how I and my father--the great and accursed first cause of -all our misfortunes and miseries--effected your estrangement. The -Italian miscreant told you truth. The girl is gone I know not whither, -to seek an asylum from me--ay, from _me_. To save my life and honour. I -would have constrained her to marry the wretch who has destroyed me. It -was he--_he_ who urged it, who cajoled me. I joined him, to save my -life and honour! and now--oh! God, where are they?" - -O'Connor rose, and said somewhat sternly,-- - -"May God pardon you, Sir Henry Ashwoode, for all you have done against -the peace of that most noble and generous being, your sister. What I -have suffered at your hands I heartily forgive." - -"I ask forgiveness nowhere," rejoined Ashwoode, stoically; "what's done -is done. It has been a wild and fitful life, and is now over. What -forgiveness can you give me or she that's worth a thought?--folly, -folly!" - -"One word of earnest hope before I leave you; one word of solemn -warning," said O'Connor; "the vanities of this world are fading fast -and for ever from your view; you are going where the applause of men -can reach you no more! I conjure you, then, for the sake of your -eternal peace, if your sentence be a just one, do not insult your -Creator by denying your guilt, and pass into His awful presence with a -lie upon your lips." - -Ashwoode paused for a moment, and then walked suddenly up to O'Connor, -and almost in a whisper said,-- - -"Not a word of that, my course is chosen; not one word more. Observe, -what has passed between us is private; now leave me." So saying, -Ashwoode turned from him, and walked toward the narrow window of his -cell. - -"Farewell, Sir Henry Ashwoode, farewell for ever; and may God have -mercy upon you," said O'Connor, passing out upon the dark and narrow -corridor. - -The turnkey closed the door with a heavy crash upon his prisoner, and -locked it once more, and thus the two young men, who had so often and -so variously encountered in the unequal path of life, were parted never -again to meet in the wayward scenes of this chequered and changeful -existence. Tired and agitated, O'Connor threw himself into the first -coach he met, and was deposited safely in the "Cock and Anchor." It -were vain to attempt to describe the ecstasies and transports of honest -Larry Toole at the unexpected recovery of his long-lost master; we -shall not attempt to do so. It is enough for our purpose to state that -at the "Cock and Anchor" O'Connor received two letters from his old -friend, Mr. Audley, and one conveying a pressing invitation from Oliver -French of Ardgillagh, in compliance with which, early on the next -morning, he mounted his horse, and set forth, followed by his trusty -squire, upon the high road to Naas, resolved to task his strength to -the uttermost, although he knew that even thus he must necessarily -divide his journey into many more stages than his impatience would have -allowed, had more rapid travelling in his weak condition been possible. - - - - -CHAPTER LXXII. - -THE ROPE AND THE RIOT IN GALLOWS GREEN--AND THE WOODS OF ARDGILLAGH BY -MOONLIGHT. - - -At length came that day, that dreadful day, whose evening Sir Henry -Ashwoode was never to see. Noon was the time fixed for the fatal -ceremonial; and long before that hour, the mob, in one dense mass of -thousands, had thronged and choked the streets leading to the old gaol. -Upon this awful day the wretched man acquired, by a strange revulsion, -a kind of stoical composure, which sustained him throughout the -dreadful preparations. With hands cold as clay, and a face white as -ashes, and from which every vestige of animation had vanished, he -proceeded, nevertheless, with a calm and collected demeanour to make -all his predetermined arrangements for the fearful scene. With a minute -elaborateness he finished his toilet, and dressed himself in a grave, -but particularly handsome suit. Could this shrunken, torpid, ghastly -spectre, in reality be the same creature who, a few months since, was -the admiration and envy of half the beaux of Dublin? - -There was little or none of the fitful excitability about him which had -heretofore marked his demeanour during his confinement; on the -contrary, a kind of stupor and apathy had supervened, partly occasioned -by the laudanum which he had taken in unusually large quantities, and -partly by the overwhelming horror of his situation. He seemed to -observe and hear nothing. When the gaoler entered to remove his irons, -shortly before the time of his removal had arrived, he seemed a little -startled, and observing the physician who had attended him among those -who stood at the door of his cell, he beckoned him toward him. - -"Doctor, doctor," said he in a dusky voice, "how much laudanum may I -safely take? I want my head clear to say a few words, to speak to the -people. Don't give me too much; but let me, with that condition, have -whatever I can safely swallow. You know--you understand me; don't -oblige me to speak any more just now." - -The physician felt his pulse, and looked in his face, and then mingled -a little laudanum and water, which he applied to the young man's pale, -dry lips. This dose was hardly swallowed, when one of the gaol -officials entered, and stated that the ordinary was anxious to know -whether the prisoner wished to pray or confer with him in private -before his departure. The question had to be twice repeated ere it -reached Sir Henry. He replied, however, quickly, and in a low tone,-- - -"No, no, not for the world. I can't bear it; don't disturb me--don't, -don't." - -It was now intimated to the prisoner that he must proceed. His arms -were pinioned, and he was conducted along the passages leading to the -entrance of the gaol, where he was received by the sheriff. For a -moment, as he passed out into the broad light and the keen fresh air, -he beheld the vast and eager mob pressing and heaving like a great dark -sea around him, and the mounted escort of dragoons with drawn swords -and gay uniforms; and without attaching any clear or definite meaning -to the spectacle, he beheld the plumes of a hearse, and two or three -fellows engaged in sliding the long black coffin into its place. These -sights, and the strange, gaping faces of the crowd, and the sheriff's -carriage, and the gay liveries, and the crowded fronts and roofs of the -crazy old houses opposite, for one moment danced like the fragment of a -dream across his vision, and in the next he sat in the old-fashioned -coach which was to convey him to the place of execution. - -"Only twenty-seven years, only twenty-seven years, only twenty-seven -years," he muttered, vacantly and mechanically repeating the words -which had reached his ear from those who were curiously reading the -plate upon the coffin as he entered the coach--"only twenty-seven, -twenty-seven." - -The awful procession moved on to the place of its final destination; -the enormous mob rushing along with it--crowding, jostling, swearing, -laughing, whistling, quarrelling, and hustling, as they forced their -way onward, and staring with coarse and eager curiosity whenever they -could into the vehicle in which Ashwoode sat. All the sights--the -haggard, smirched, and eager faces, the prancing horses of the -troopers, the well-known shops and streets, and the crowded -windows--all sailed by his eyes like some unintelligible and -heart-sickening dream. The place of public execution for criminals was -then, and continued to be for long after, a spot significantly -denominated "Gallows Hill," situated in the neighbourhood of St. -Stephen's Green, and not far from the line at present traversed by -Baggot Street. There a permanent gallows was erected, and thither, at -length, amid thousands of crowding spectators, the melancholy -procession came, and proceeded to the centre of area, where the gallows -stood, with the long new rope swinging in the wind, and the cart and -the hangman, with the guard of soldiers, prepared for their reception. -The vehicles drew up, and those who had to play a part in the dreadful -scene descended. The guard took their place, preserving a narrow circle -around the fatal spot, free from the pressure of the crowd. The -carriages were driven a little away, and the coffin was placed close -under the gallows, while Ashwoode, leaning upon the chaplain and upon -one of the sheriffs, proceeded toward the cart, which made the rude -platform on which he was to stand. - -"Sir Henry Ashwoode," observes a contemporary authority, the _Dublin -Journal_, "showed a great deal of calmness and dignity, insomuch that a -great many of the mob, especially among the women, were weeping. His -figure and features were handsome, and he was finely dressed. He prayed -a short time with the ordinary, and then, with little assistance, -mounted the hurdle, whence he spoke to the people, declaring his -innocence with great solemnity. Then the hangman loosened his cravat, -and opened his shirt at the neck, and Sir Henry turning to him, bid -him, as it was understood, to take a ring from his finger, for a token -of forgiveness, which he did, and then the man drew the cap over his -eyes; but he made a sign, and the hangman lifted it up again, and Sir -Henry, looking round at all the multitude, said again, three times, 'In -the presence of God Almighty, I stand here innocent;' and then, a -minute after, 'I forgive all my enemies, and I die innocent;' then he -spoke a word to the hangman, and the cap being pulled down, and the -rope quickly adjusted, the hurdle was moved away, and he swung off, the -people with one consent crying out the while. He struggled for a long -time, and very hard; and not for more than an hour was the body cut -down, and laid in the coffin. He was buried in the night-time. His last -dying words have begot among most people a great opinion of his -innocence, though the lawyers still hold to it that he was guilty. It -was said that Mr. Blarden, the prosecutor, was in a house in Stephen's -Green, to see the hanging, and as soon as the mob heard it, they went -and broke the windows, and, but for the soldiers, would have forced -their way in, and done more violence." - -Thus speaks the _Dublin Journal_, and the extract needs no addition -from us. - - -Gladly do we leave this hateful scene, and turn from the dreadful fate -of him whose follies and vices had wrought so much misery to others, -and ended in such fearful ignominy and destruction to himself. We leave -the smoky town, with all its fashion, vice, and villainy; its princely -equipages; its prodigals; its paupers; its great men and its -sycophants; its mountebanks and mendicants; its riches and its -wretchedness. We leave that old city of strange compounds, where the -sublime and the ridiculous, deep tragedies and most whimsical farces -are ever mingling--where magnificence and squalor rub shoulders day by -day, and beggars sit upon the steps of palaces. How much of what is -wonderful, wild, and awful, has not thy secret history known! How much -of the romance of human act and passion, vicissitude, joy and sorrow, -grandeur and despair, has there not lived, and moved, and perished, age -after age, under thy perennial curtain of solemn smoke! - -Far, far behind, we leave the sickly smoky town--and over the far blue -hills and wooded country--through rocky glens, and by sonorous streams, -and over broad undulating plains, and through the quiet villages, with -their humble thatched roofs from which curls up the light blue smoke -among the sheltering bushes and tall hedge-rows--through ever-changing -scenes of softest rural beauty, in day time and at even-tide, and by -the wan, misty moonlight, we follow the two travellers who ride toward -the old domain of Ardgillagh. - -The fourth day's journey brought them to the little village which -formed one of the boundaries of that old place. But, long ere they -reached it, the sun had gone down behind the distant hills, under his -dusky canopy of crimson clouds, and the pale moon had thrown its broad -light and shadows over the misty landscape. Under the soft splendour of -the moon, chequered by the moving shadows of the tall and ancient -trees, they rode into the humble village--no sound arose to greet them -but the desultory baying of the village dogs, and the soft sighing of -the light breeze through the spreading boughs--and no signal of waking -life was seen, except, few and far between, the red level beam of some -still glowing turf fire, shining through the rude and narrow aperture -that served the simple rustic instead of casement. - -At one of these humble dwellings Larry Toole applied for information, -and with ready courtesy the "man of the house," in person, walked with -them to the entrance of the place, and shoved open one of the valves of -the crazy old gate, and O'Connor rode slowly in, following, with his -best caution, the directions of his guide. His honest squire, Larry, -meanwhile, loitered a little behind, in conference with the courteous -peasant, and with the laudable intention of procuring some trifling -refection, which, however, he determined to swallow without -dismounting, and with all convenient dispatch, bearing in mind a -wholesome remembrance of the disasters which followed his convivial -indulgence in the little town of Chapelizod. While Larry thus loitered, -O'Connor followed the wild winding avenue which formed the only -approach to the old mansion. This rude track led him a devious way over -slopes, and through hollows, and by the broad grey rocks, white as -sheeted phantoms in the moonlight, and the thick weeds and brushwood -glittering with the heavy dew of night, and through the beautiful misty -vistas of the ancient wild wood, now still and solemn as old cathedral -aisles. Thus, under the serene and cloudless light of the sailing moon, -he had reached the bank of the broad and shallow brook whose shadowy -nooks and gleaming eddies were canopied under the gnarled and arching -boughs of the hoary thorn and oak--and here tradition tells a -marvellous tale. - -It is narrated that when O'Connor reached this point, his jaded horse -stopped short, refusing to cross the stream, and when urged by voice -and spur, reared, snorted, and by every indication exhibited the -extremest terror and an obstinate reluctance to pass the brook. The -rider dismounted--took his steed by the head, patted and caressed him, -and by every art endeavoured to induce him to traverse the little -stream, but in vain; while thus fruitlessly employed, his attention was -arrested by the sounds of a female voice, in low and singularly sweet -and plaintive lamentation, and looking across the water, for the first -time he beheld the object which so affrighted his steed. It was a -female figure arrayed in a mantle of dusky red, the hood of which hung -forward so as to hide the face and head: she was seated upon a broad -grey rock by the brook's side, and her head leaned forward so as to -rest upon her knees; her bare arm hung by her side, and the white -fingers played listlessly in the clear waters of the brook, while with -a wild and piteous chaunt, which grew louder and clearer as he gazed, -she still sang on her strange mournful song. Spellbound and entranced, -he knew not why, O'Connor gazed on in speechless and breathless awe, -until at length the tall form arose and disappeared among the old -trees, and the sounds melted away and were lost among the soft chiming -of the brook, and heard no more. He dared not say whether it was -reality or illusion, he felt like one suddenly recalled from a dream, -and a certain awe, and horror, and dismay still hung upon him, for -which he scarcely could account. - -Without further resistance, the horse now crossed the brook; O'Connor -remounted, and followed the shadowy track; but again he was destined to -meet with interruption; the pathway which he followed, embowered among -the branching trees and bushes, at one point wound beneath a low, -ivy-mantled rock; he was turning this point, when his horse, snorting -loudly, checked his pace with a recoil so sudden that he threw himself -back upon his haunches, and remained, except for his violent trembling, -fixed and motionless. O'Connor raised his eyes, and standing upon the -rock which overhung the avenue, he beheld, for a moment, a tall female -form clothed in an ample cloak of dusky red. The arms with the hands -clasped, as if in the extremity of woe, firmly together, were extended -above her head, the face white as the foam of the river, and the eyes -preternaturally large and wild, were raised fixedly toward the broad -bright moon; this phantom, for such it was, for a moment occupied his -gaze, and in the next, with a scream so piercing and appalling that his -very marrow seemed to freeze at the sound, she threw herself forward as -though she would cast herself upon the horse and rider--and, was gone. - - [Illustration: "His horse, snorting loudly, checked his pace." - _To face page 354._] - -The horse started wildly off and galloped at headlong speed up the -broken ascent, and for some time O'Connor had not collectedness to -check his frantic course, or even to think; at length, however, he -succeeded in calming the terrified animal--and, uttering a fervent -prayer, he proceeded, without further adventure, till the tall gable of -the old mansion in the spectral light of the moon among its thick -embowering trees and rich ivy-mantles, with all its tall white chimney -stacks and narrow windows with their thousand glittering panes, arose -before his anxious gaze. - - - - -CHAPTER LXXIII. - -THE LAST LOOK. - - -Time had flowed on smoothly in the quiet old place, with an even -current unbroken and unmarred, except by one event. Sir Henry -Ashwoode's danger was known to old French and Mr. Audley; but with -anxious and effectual care they kept all knowledge of his peril and -disgrace from poor Mary: this pang was spared her. The months that -passed had wrought in her a change so great and so melancholy, that -none could look upon her without sorrowful forebodings, without -misgivings against which they vainly strove. Sore grief had done its -worst: the light and graceful step grew languid and feeble--the young -face wan and wasted--the beautiful eyes grew dim; and now in her sad -and early decline, as in other times, when her smile was sunshine, and -her very step light music, was still with her the same warm and gentle -spirit; and even amid the waste and desolation of decay, still -prevailed the ineffaceable lines of that matchless and touching beauty, -which in other times had wrought such magic. - -It was upon that day, the night of which saw O'Connor's long-deferred -arrival at Ardgillagh, that Flora Guy, vainly striving to restrain her -tears, knocked at Mr. Audley's chamber door. The old gentleman quickly -answered the summons. - -"Ah, sir," said the girl, "she's very bad, sir, if you wish to see her, -come at once." - -"I _do_, indeed, wish to see her, the dear child," said he, while the -tears started to his eyes; "bring me to the room." - -He followed the kind girl to the door, and she first went in, and in a -low voice told her that Mr. Audley wished much to see her, and she, -with her own sweet, sad smile, bade her bring him to her bedside. - -Twice the old man essayed to enter, and twice he stayed to weep -bitterly as a child. At length he commanded composure enough to enter, -and stood by the bedside, and silently and reverently held the hand of -her that was dying. - -"My dear child! my darling!" said he, vainly striving to suppress his -sobs, while the tears fell fast upon the thin small hand he held in -his--"I have sought this interview, to tell you what I would fain have -told you often before now but knew not how to speak of it, I want to -speak to you of one who loved you, and loves you still, as mortal has -seldom loved; of--of my good young friend O'Connor." - -As he said this, he saw, or was it fancy, the faintest flush imaginable -for one moment tinge her pale cheek. He had touched a chord to which -the pulses of her heart, until they had ceased to beat, must tremble; -and silently and slow the tears gathered upon her long dark lashes, and -followed one another down her wan face, unheeded. Thus she listened -while he related how truly O'Connor had loved her, and when the tale -was ended she wept on long and silently. - -"Flora," she said at length, "cut off a lock of my hair." - -The girl did as she was desired, and in her thin and feeble hand her -young mistress took it. - -"Whenever you see him, sir," said she, "will you give him this, and say -that I sent it for a token that to the last I loved him, and to help -him to remember me when I am gone: this is my last message--and poor -Flora, won't you take care of her?" - -"Won't I, won't I!" sobbed the old man, vehemently. "While I have a -shilling in the world she shall never know want--faithful creature"--and -he grasped the honest girl's hand, and shook it, and sobbed and wept -like a child. - -He took the long dark ringlet, which he had promised to give to -O'Connor; and seeing that his presence agitated her, he took a long -last look at the young face he was never more to see in life, and -kissing the small hand again and again, he turned and went out, crying -bitterly. - -Soon after this she grew much fainter, and twice or thrice she spoke as -though her mind was busy with other scenes. - -"Let us go down to the well side," she said, "the primroses and -cowslips are always there the earliest;" and then she said again, "He's -coming, Flora; he'll be here very soon, so come and dress my hair; he -likes to see my hair dressed with flowers--wild flowers." - -Shortly after this she sank into a soft and gentle sleep, and while she -lay thus calmly, there came over her pale face a smile of such a pure -and heavenly light, that angelic hope, and peace, and glory, shone in -its beauty. The smile changed not; but she was dead! The sorrowful -struggle was over--the weary bosom was at rest--the true and gentle -heart was cold for ever--the brief but sorrowful trial was over--the -desolate mourner was gone to the land where the pangs of grief, the -tumults of passion, regrets, and cold neglect are felt no more. - -Her favourite bird, with gay wings, flutters to the casement; the -flowers she planted are sweet upon the evening air; and by their -hearths the poor still talk of her and bless her; but the silvery voice -that spoke, and the gentle hand that tended, and the beautiful smile -that gave an angelic grace to the offices of charity, where are they? - - -The tapers are lighted in the silent chamber, and Flora Guy has laid -early spring flowers on the still cold form that sleeps there in its -serene sad beauty tranquilly and for ever; when in the court-yard are -heard the tramp and clatter of a horse's hoofs--it is he--O'Connor,--he -comes for her--the long lost--the dearly loved--the true-hearted--the -found again. - -'Twere vain to tell of frantic grief--words cannot tell, nor -imagination conceive, the depth--the wildness--the desolation of that -woe. - - - - -CONCLUSION. - - -Some fifteen years ago there was still to be seen in the little ruined -church which occupies a corner in what yet remains of the once -magnificent domain of Ardgillagh, side by side among the tangled weeds, -two gravestones; one recording the death of Mary Ashwoode, at the early -age of twenty-two, in the year of grace 1710; the other, that of Edmond -O'Connor, who fell at Denain, in the year of our Lord 1712. Thus they -were, who in life were separated, laid side by side in death. It is a -still and sequestered spot, and the little ruin clothed in rich ivy, -and sheltered by the great old trees with its solemn and holy quiet, in -such a resting-place as most mortals would fain repose in when their -race is done. - -For the rest our task is quickly done. Mr. Audley and Oliver French had -so much gotten into one another's way of going on, that the former -gentleman from week to week, and from month to month, continued to -prolong his visit, until after a residence of eight years, he died at -length in the mansion of Ardgillagh, at a very advanced age, and -without more than two days' illness, having never experienced before, -in all his life, one hour's sickness of any kind. Honest Oliver French -outlived his boon companion by the space of two years, having just -eaten an omelette and actually called for some woodcock-pie; he -departed suddenly while the servant was raising the crust. Old Audley -left Flora Guy well provided for at his death, but somehow or other -considerably before that event Larry Toole succeeded in prevailing on -the honest handmaiden to marry him, and although, questionless, there -was some disparity in point of years, yet tradition says, and we -believe it, that there never lived a fonder or a happier couple, and it -is a genealogical fact, that half the Tooles who are now to be found in -that quarter of the country, derive their descent from the very -alliance in question. - -Of Major O'Leary we have only to say that the rumour which hinted at -his having united his fortunes with those of the house of Rumble, were -but too well founded. He retired with his buxom bride to a small -property, remote from the dissipation of the capital, and except in the -matter of an occasional cock-fight, whenever it happened to be within -reach, or a tough encounter with the squire, when a new pipe of claret -was to be tasted, one or two occasional indiscretions, he became, as he -himself declared, in all respects an ornament to society. - -Lady Stukely, within a few months after the explosion with young -Ashwoode, vented her indignation by actually marrying young -Pigwiggynne. It was said, indeed, that they were not happy; of this, -however, we cannot be sure; but it is undoubtedly certain that they -used to beat, scratch, and pinch each other in private--whether in play -merely, or with the serious intention of correcting one another's -infirmities of temper, we know not. Several weeks before Lady Stukely's -marriage, Emily Copland succeeded in her long-cherished schemes against -the celibacy of poor Lord Aspenly. His lordship, however, lived on with -a perseverance perfectly spiteful, and his lady, alas and alack-a-day, -tired out, at length committed a _faux pas_--the trial is on record, -and eventuated, it is sufficient to say, in a verdict for the -plaintiff. - -Of Chancey, we have only to say that his fate was as miserable as his -life had been abject and guilty. When he arose after the tremendous -fall which he had received at the hands of his employer, Nicholas -Blarden, upon the memorable night which defeated all their schemes, for -he _did_ arise with life--intellect and remembrance were alike -quenched--he was thenceforward a drivelling idiot. Though none cared to -inquire into the cause and circumstances of his miserable privation, -long was he well known and pointed out in the streets of Dublin, where -he subsisted upon the scanty alms of superstitious charity, until at -length, during the great frost in the year 1739, he was found dead one -morning, in a corner under St. Audoen's Arch, stark and cold, cowering -in his accustomed attitude. - -Nicholas Blarden died upon his feather bed, and if every luxury which -imagination can devise, or prodigal wealth procure, can avail to soothe -the racking torments of the body, and the terrors of the appalled -spirit, he died happy. - -Of the other actors in this drama--with the exception of M'Quirk, who -was publicly whipped for stealing four pounds of sausages from an eating -house in Bride Street, and the Italian, who, we believe, was seen as -groom-porter in Mr. Blarden's hell, for many years after--tradition is -silent. - - - [Illustration: The End.] - - -GILBERT AND RIVINGTON, LD., ST. JOHN'S HOUSE, CLERKENWELL. - - - - - - -End of Project Gutenberg's The Cock and Anchor, by Joseph Sheridan Le Fanu - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE COCK AND ANCHOR *** - -***** This file should be named 40126.txt or 40126.zip ***** -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: - http://www.gutenberg.org/4/0/1/2/40126/ - -Produced by Suzanne Shell and the Online Distributed -Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was -produced from images generously made available by The -Internet Archive/Canadian Libraries) - - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions -will be renamed. - -Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no -one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation -(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without -permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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